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

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

That Abrazimir looked away from her searching gaze, that his shoulders lifted and fell in accordance with his sigh... was telling. When he agreed to abide by the conditions set forth by the King, he spoke in the singular and added a condition on behalf of Thormaetha. If she had not known him as a man on honour, the Lieutenant would have interjected there, about how she expected not only him but also his men to follow these orders, and that he would need to make sure that they would. But Arnyn did know Abrazimir Dimaethor as a man of his word. Therefore, she merely nodded, waiting to see if he would say any more as his eyes returned to look at her.

He confirmed once more to abide by the King's orders, then, speaking not only for himself but also for his warriors. And he made her a promise. The Lieutenant's expression grew serious but also appreciative in recognition of the effort she could see this required of the man in front of her.

Abrazimir's admission that it would be difficult, cast a faint, wry smile over her lips - one that did not reach the eyes. Yes, it would definitely be difficult. In more ways than one. Every aspect of it came with challenges. Some similar to what she knew, some very distinct. The latter ones... made it all the more demanding.

The knight's comment about cooler heads prevailing, made her draw in a slow breath. Would her rangers be able to keep their heads cool? Mourgan? Kaylin? Might even Pele slip at some point perhaps, despite how far she had come? Abrazimir had pinpointed one of the concerns that lay heavy on the Lieutenant's shoulders.

Cooler heads, superior in rank... So many who trusted in the guidance Pele and Arnyn would provide. Thankfully - for without such trust the mission would be doomed before it even began. Unfortunately concerning this particular endeavour, the trust that was being given to her - while Arnyn was one who usually thrived on trust - felt impossible to live up to. Like a weighted blanket pressing her down, threatening to crush every bone in her body.

Not that this should be known or seen by any. As ever, Arnyn was in control. Of thought, emotion and bearing.

And so, the Lieutenant nodded once more. "Several of the Rangers have a past with Umbar or some specific individuals within its borders," she spoke genuinely. "For them, it is a personal matter in case they were to find themselves in the presence of certain people. I believe - and hope - to have a good grasp on which of the enemy might provide a challenge to our own. For I think such knowledge is important for the leadership." She paused. "In your case, clearly Devedir Thormaetha will provide a challenge." That, she had not known. "Is this true for the rest of your crew, as well, Sir? And once we have taken their vessel and these pirates have been dealt with - will there then be anyone else who might tempt that sword on your belt beyond the absolute necessity? For I do know that Keket Halsad would go to great lengths to get his hands on you. I cannot help but wonder if the sentiment is mutual."

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
To Harlond, September 3rd

She filed the information about Unalmis and Domanol away - in case it should ever prove useful. She listened to Duinion's reasoning, nodding every so often. "You make a good point about Pharak," she agreed. The likes of him... would want those two alive. The bruised ego of an evil man begged for revenge. That was as true in the North as it was in the South. But he would not have them, Arnyn told herself stubbornly.

Alive... yes. But would Pharak still want them unharmed? Did he still wish to sacrifice them? Could he even, in this strange and twisted form of worship he had thought out? "Pharak might not mind an incapacitating injury. Unless he has plans for them in the temple, still," she added quietly. "Your points are valid, your arguments reasonable. I would tend to agree with them, if I did not intend to prepare for the worst, as you also said earlier, Duinion. We also need to consider any orders they might have been given regarding anyone who is not Unalmis, Domanol, or someone rather close to them." It would not be unimaginable to think that they were to dispose of anyone who might not be useful. "Rangers can be troublesome prisoners after all - as the Halsads and their accomplices might have noticed."

"Androllius," she replied, offering no more than the other name in response to Duinion's question about Naluthor. She was watching the Tirdinen as she spoke it.

[Hanasian]

#1 Private

(The next part is presented here)

Kin Strife of Gondor ~ The Reign of King Castamir
As told by

Halvarin and Amarwen.

Historical - Gondor - Years 1432-1448 of the Third Age


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Summary:
Of all of Gondor's long history, no chapter matches the tragedy or brutality of the Kin-Strife. This internecine conflict effectively started behind the scenes in the days of King Valacar when he married the Rhovanion princess Vidumavi. Their son Eldacar was the heir-apparent to the throne of Gondor, but with the death of King Valacar in the year 1432 of the Third Age, the subdued discontent erupted into rebellion. Castamir, claiming his pure Númenórean bloodline and a descendant of the Royal line, overthrew Valacar's rightful successor on the grounds that Eldacar was of mixed Gondorian-Rhovanion descent.

This tale is one of many. It tells of some of the people who got caught up in the dark and brutal civil war in Gondor and begins with Castamir claiming the crown of Gondor from the defeated King Eldacar.

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Notes:
The discontent that led to the tragic Kin-Strife in Gondor was caused by the actions of Prince Valacar, son of King Rómendacil II, but the seeds were sown long before this time. In King Rómendacil's reign, there was war with the Easterling warrior clans of Rhûn. He succeeded in developing a strong alliance with the Northmen of Rhovanion who lived to the east of Mirkwood and also suffered at the hands of the Easterlings. With their combined might and leadership, they were able to defeat the Easterlings in battle, and after their great victory, Rómendacil furthered this close friendship between Gondor and Rhovanion by sending his son Valacar to be ambassador to the court of their leader Vidugavia of Rhovanion.

Rómendacil had intended that his son should learn something of the language and culture of the Men of Rhovanion, but he could not know that Valacar would fall in love with Vidumavi, daughter of Vidugavia. They were soon wed and to them a son was born. He was named Vinitharya but was later given the name of Eldacar when Valacar returned to Gondor with him. As the firstborn son of Valacar, Eldacar was the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor. The marriage between Valacar and Vidumavi would be the catalyst that would bring unrest in the future.

In Gondor, it was widely feared that the pure Númenórean blood of the Royal House would be lost with this mingling with the “lesser” men of the north. The men of Rhovanion were strong and fierce, but their lives withered much sooner than those of the Númenórean line and intermingling of Valacar and Vidumavi was seen by many as an unwise act. When Vidumavi died before Valacar became King of Gondor, this “weakness” was confirmed in the minds of many Gondorians of the Rhovanion blood.

Divisions in Gondor began to form, and unrest stirred, mainly in Pelargir and Umbar. The discord was muted under Valacar as king, as many held hope that he would marry again to a high Gondorian woman who would bear him a Númenórean heir. But no other would be named as heir to the throne. Eldacar would secede to the Gondorian kingship as Valacar, his father had wished. So began the Kin Strife of Gondor in 1432...

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The Kin-strife of Gondor
Prologue ~ The Defeat of Eldacar

Seeds of the Kin-Strife of Gondor

In 1432 when King Valacar died, unrest in the southern provinces burst into open rebellion with the coronation of Eldacar as King of Gondor. The powerful Mariner's Guild of Gondor, based in Pelargir and led by Castamir as Master of Ships, fanned the embers of unrest. Castamir was the great grandson of King Calmacil and claimed royal descent through that line. Castamir’s grandfather Calimehtar was the younger brother of Minaltar, later known as King Rómendacil II. Calimehtar had been content to serve his brother as Naval Commander and Master of the Mariners Guild. He maintained Gondor’s great fleet of ships in Pelargir, served as Governor of the province of Harondor, managed the affairs the tributary lands of Harad and the great port of Umbar. Through the line of Calimehtar, the Mariners Guild became a powerful faction and immensely influential within the realm of Gondor.

In later generations, when the line of Rómendacil mingled with the “lesser” blood of the Rhovanions, Castamir put himself forward as the rightful Numenorean heir of undiminished descent. He ignored Gondor's laws of succession and proclaimed himself the true King of Gondor. At Castamir’s proclamation, a rebellion in Pelargir erupted against Eldacar shortly after his coronation and it soon spread through the southern provinces to become a civil war.

For the next four years, a brutal war between Gondor’s people raged, each side convinced of their righteousness. The Governors of the southern provinces of Anfalas, Belfalas, Lebennin, Harondor, and Lossarnarch declared for Castamir, while those of Ithilien, Anorien, Dol Amroth, Edhellond and the rough and hardy men who lived in the western lands of Calenardhon and Enedwaith swore allegiance to Eldacar. Not all within these provinces agreed with who their Governor supported, and the fighting among the citizenry was grim. There were brutal raids and massacres of unarmed civilians by supporters of both sides in most provinces in that first year. After that, most of the dissenters had either been slain or had fled for friendlier lands.

The fighting mostly settled between the opposing armies, quickly stagnating along a line across Ithilien south of Emyn Arnen to the east of the Anduin and along the Erui River to the west of the Anduin. For two years, the ships of Castamir tried relentlessly to break their line by forcing the Anduin River passage with his ships. However, Eldacar held most of the siege engines and had them well placed to fire on the ships from both sides of the river. Also, cross river chains and log barriers were set to impede the ships’ ability to move upstream. Castamir's attempts to thwart his rival were defeated until such time as Castamair amassed enough of a force to mount an attack on three fronts. In the beginning of 1436, Castamir lead his army himself to force his way through the Crossing of the Erui. This came after twelve days of fighting and at great cost, still it was a victory long denied to Castamir.

Eldacar’s army fell back in disarray and were not able to regain a defensive footing until they reached fortifications in the narrows between the east end of the White Mountains, just south of Harlond. Castamir’s army destroyed the siege engines on the west bank of the Anduin and disabled the cross-river defences. At the same time, fierce Haradian mercenaries drove up the eastern bank of the Anduin, driving a wedge between Eldacar’s army and the river. They were able to destroy the siege engines on the east side of the Anduin, but unlike Eldacar’s army on the west side, the Ithilien army was able to regroup and counterattack the Haradrim mercenaries.

Eight relentless days of fighting followed. The Haradians were, for the most part decimated. Those few who remained, most of them the Haradian leaders and Castamir’s officers, fled to the south. It was a pyric victory in Ithilien, for Castamir’s ships were now able to pass freely up the river. In Harlond, the quays were burned, and the riverfront fortified. The few remaining siege engines Eldacar retained control of were used to bombard the approaching ships. After much damage and loss, Castamir’s ships were again forced to retreat downriver. Castamir sought to continue his attack on the west side, but his men were exhausted and had suffered great loss whereas Eldacar’s defense was strong. Thus, his attack foundered, but they did not retreat. the frontlines stagnated for the next year.

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Osgiliath ~ 22 Girithron 1436 III

Eldacar stood beneath the Dome of the Stars, within the Great Library of Osgiliath. He held the Palantir in his gaze, unable to look away from what it might reveal. His position had become tenuous. He had few reserves of men and though a small army had come from Rhovanion to his aid, the best he could hope to mount with all that remained was a defense. He had no capacity to attack the armies of Castamir that amassed south of Minas Anor. His elder son, Ornedil, held the fortress of Minas Anor and the command of his western armies'. His younger son, Aldamir, held Minas Ithil and command of his eastern forces. Still, Gondor's true and loyal strength was fading and with it, his hope to retain Gondor and reunite her peoples. His vision was unclear and the Palantir held nothing he might look to. Stagnant as this war was, a divided Gondor could not hold forever. There had to be a way forward, but he could not see it.

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Minas Anor & Harlond ~ 4 Narvinyë 1437

It was late in the evening a few days after the New Year, and Ornendil was reviewing the defensive lines near Minas Anor. The chill air from the north had laid a thick frost overall and as the steam from his breath swirled about him, he listened closely in the quiet night. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. He waved for his line commander.

“Make sure the men remain watchful this night. Something is amiss.”

The commander nodded and sent a signal down the line, but as the next signaller turned, an arrow hit him in the neck. A cry went up and the Castamirian army began to bellow. A night attack!

Ornendil quickly ordered the archers to ready, but again an arrow took down his signaller. When his second fell and the sound of swords rang all along the front line, Ornendil realised his position was swiftly deteriorating. But how, for he had sent orders for the river and siege engines to be watched.

What Ornedil did not know is that despite his efforts and care, Castamir's spies had still managed to infiltrate his command. Instead of running Ornedil's river boats upstream, smaller boats that carried twelve men were sent along the river banks where Castamir's men could swiftly disembark and ambush the guards at strongpoints. With several of these groups along both sides of the river, the Castamirians caused much disruption and chaos behind Ornendil’s defensive line.

Before Ornendil could assess the situation clearly, his flank on the river was compromised. The larger ships moved upriver and disgorged a larger army into the Harlond itself. In the western end of the line, rugged highlanders of Lebennin managed to take the furthest stronghold which allowed men to pour in unopposed.

When reports managed to find Ornendil, he realised his line of defense was now untenable. Finding a lack of officers around him, Ornendil had to trust to unit leaders to try to organise a withdrawal from the centre of the line. But with his right flank crumbling and his left flank in Harlond already lost, time was not on his side. The assault on his communications was effective to the point that Ornendil could not reliably know if any of his commands had gotten to whom he had them sent to. Likewise, the few messages that he did receive were filled with ill news. For the gates of Minas Anor had fallen without contest to Castamirian raiders.

Castamir's soldiers took cloaks and emblems from dead and captured Eldacarian soldiers and disguised themselves. Their deception worked. At first, acting like they were reinforcements for Eldacar, they were able to walk in the open gates and take control from the unsuspecting city guard. They drew in as many of their men as they could before it became known that the gate had fallen.

At this, Ornendil's hope was shaken. No longer could he look to fend off the usurper from within the city. Gathering men to him, Ornendil had each man pass the word that they needed to assault the gates of Minas Anor. Likewise, the City Guard tried to re-take the gates from the inside, but the attacks were not coordinated, and the raiders were able to fend off both attacks. With the gates held, it was deemed time by Castamir’s sympathisers to take down the guards at the secondary doors and open them to Castamir’s men coming up from Harlond.

After a second attempt to storm the gates foundered, Ornendil saw that the city was lost. With the confusion and chaos of his army on the field, they had no choice but to retreat across the Pelennor Field toward Osgiliath.

Eldacar’s men trapped inside Minas Anor fought on, level by level into the morning, but when they were making a stand at the fourth level, the commander of the naval forces that had come up the river offered terms to Eldacar’s men. After considering the limited options, the ranking commander of Eldacar’s Minas Anor army, surrendered. The surrendering soldiers were herded into the courtyard where those who lived in the city were escorted to their homes. The soldiers who had no families, or were from outside the city, were immediately asked to swear fealty to King Castamir. Those who did were given a chance to prove their loyalty by fighting for Castamir in a penal unit. Those who would not were, along with any Rhovanions, put to death.

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Osgiliath ~ 4 Narvinyë 1437

By the time word came to Osgiliath of the fall of Minas Anor, it was already too late to sway the outcome of the war. Eldacar ordered his elite Royal Guard out to reinforce Ornedil in Minas Anor, but they could not reach him. When the Highladers that broke the west end of Ornedil’s line made contact, the Royal Guard were forced to stand fast, and they set a defensive perimeter a few miles out around the gates of Osgiliath. There they were able to fend off any Castamirians who were so bold to pursue of the remnants of Ornendil’s retreating army. With the Rhovanion Royal Guard on the forefront, the Gondorian Royal Guard aided stragglers from Minas Anor to reach the city.

The first attack toward Osgiliath by the pursuing Castamirians was stopped by the Rhovanions at great cost to both armies. With their strength spent, the Rhovanions retreated to hastily prepared defensive positions around Osgiliath while the Castamirians fell back to Minas Anor. There were still pockets of resistance inside the walls of the city. Against all expectations, Castamir's army had subdued and secured the city by the time morning light came.

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Minas Anor ~ 5 Narvinyë 1437

To have secured Minas Anor was a success beyond all expectations. Castamir expected to have to lay siege to the city, and he determined he had enough strength to stranglehold it while fending off attacks from Osgiliath. Thinking it would likely take many weeks if not months. Now, with the fortress secured, he could plan his move on Osgiliath, Taking the nation’s capital and Eldacar’s seat, would not be easy, but he was able to make his move much sooner than he had dared hope for. Wasting no time, he sent two of the river ships onward without disembarking in hopes they could press their advantage. It was a gamble, but if they could gain East Osgiliath, Eldacar’s eastern army would be cut off and isolated.

Captain Silares took command of this force as they pushed upriver, and trusted Halvarin, his navigator to take them through. The soldiers aboard were itching to disembark at Harlond, but when they heard they were the northern force making an assault on Osgiliath, they settled and grew determined to take their objective. But like the attack on Osgiliath in Pelennor, the two ships full of men were not enough. Though they had nearly achieved surprise, a company of Aldamir’s men in Ithilien spotted the ships in the dark as they passed by.

The commander sent word to Osgiliath by their fastest two runners that an attack was imminent on the city from the river. The company was also able to attack Silares’ lead ship with burning arrows. It did little damage, but it did illuminate the two ships for a time, so the attempt at a surprise landing in East Osgiliath failed. Silares ordered the ships back to Harlond, reluctant to risk both ships and men in an attack on a prepared city.

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Osgiliath ~ Nénimë 1437

It would be a week before Castamir could wage another attack against Osgiliath. It was time that served Eldacar well. The winds warmed and the cold rains made movement hard on the muddy field. Castamir’s attack ended a few days later, his men exhausted. Though the thrust failed to achieve much, it did cause Eldacar to pull his remaining forces back behind the city wall. Castamir’s men closed a ring around West Osgiliath but faced a battle with the elements of winter outside the wall of the city.

It would be another month before Castamir could attack again, for the brief warming had passed and winter fell hard a couple days later. Frigid north winds were relentless through the month of January 1437. The Rhovanions, wearing their traditional furs, managed to withstand the cold better than the Gondorians, but the snows that came with the winds were fierce. Castamir’s men froze in the fields and Eldacar’s men tried their best to stay warm in the city. There would be no fighting while the winter held.

Eldacar used the time to prepare defences, and his son Aldamir sent what men he could spare from the East Watch of Cirith Ungol to Osgiliath to help strengthen the city. Knowing that his southern reach was now untenable with the loss of Minas Anor, Aldamir anticipated Castamir would attack soon. He prepared a defensive line anchored in the east against the spur of Ephel Duath that reached for Minas Ithil, then from the city to the road.

At the crossing of the river, he fortified both sides, and to the west, he set a line along the north bank of the river. To the south he had his elite Ithilien Rangers hold the line to wait for the attack. When it came, they would harass the advancing Castamirians and fall back to Minas Ithil. Aldamir’s leadership gave the men east of the Anduin hope, if not in victory, then in strength. But Aldamir could see the dire position they were in. All he could hope for was to resist Castamir, and plan for the eventual need to flee north to Rhovanion. Eldacar was fortunate that his younger son had the foresight to make even the most rudimentary plans to evacuate.

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Osgiliath ~ Nénimë 1437

Eldacar was solemn, aware that the thaw would mean Castamir's next assault against the city was imminent. The field, still muddy with melting snow, prevented any siege engines to be brought forth. But the sun returned day after day and with-it warm winds from the south. Soon the ground would dry, and the fighting would erupt again. Aldamir had reported their delaying retreat had cost Castamir’s eastern army dearly, but they had gathered now on the line Aldamir had set. There would be no more reinforcements coming from the east. Their only hope was to the north, and any men Rhovanion could send.

Little did Eldacar know that with little if any Gondorian presence in North Ithilien, it fell to the Rhovanions to keep the Easterling clans at bay. Not yet strong enough to launch an attack of any significance, they had increasingly turned to harassing the Rhovanion farmer, not forgetting that they had aided their enemy Gondor in their great defeat years before. Vidugavia sent word to Osgiliath that no further aid could be spared at this time. The messengers had to travel treacherous ways through Dagorlad to North Ithilien to get to East Osgiliath, and word only came late in the month.

Eldacar and his sons stood alone against the rising popularity of the Numenorean-blooded Castamir, even though he officially had no right to the crown. It was he, Eldacar, son of Valacar, son of Rómendacil II, who was rightful king of Gondor, and if he fell fighting for the crown, so be it. He gave his sons the choice of slipping away to the north to dwell with their grandmother’s kin, but each stood tall with their father, preferring death if not victory for their father’s crown. So, the stage was set for the final battle.

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The Fall of Osgiliath ~ 5 Súlimë 1437

The first attack took place in the east. Aldamir’s line held the initial assault, and only gave way slightly to the second one. For five days he held his line and hoped to weather the onslaught. In the west, the heavy engines that Eldacar had used against Castamir’s ships had been repaired and moved to within range of Osgiliath, and Castamir wasted no time in sending both flaming and heavy solid projectiles. Eldacar had little to use to return fire, for most of the engines had been moved south in earlier years. The few he had were aimed at the river where Castamir’s ships would eventually come.

For three days, there was no attack directly on the city. But on the night of the third day, Castamir used the tactic that worked so well in taking Minas Anor and sent small boats of men up both sides of the river. Ornedil would not be fooled so easily a second time. At first sign, he sent the Rhovanion Guard to counter the raiders. Vilmiath led the Rhovanions toward the river. They had caught the raiders not long after they had landed, yet they fought with intense precision.

Vilmiath managed to match the raiders, but when Rhinnin was slain before her, she froze as she watched blood gush from Rhinnin’s neck as her head turned, eyes bulging and closing as she fell and bled out. It all seemed to happen so slowly in Vilmiath’s eyes. Of all the battles in the tournaments she had been in and had won, this fight was real, and it was the first death of a close friend she had experienced. The sounds of swords clashing; the yelling and the groaning seemed to pass through her slowly, yet Vilmiath could not take her eyes off Rhinnin. It was the hands of one of her Rhovanion countryman that grabbed her tunic and spun her around…

”Vilmiath! Rhinnin is dead! And we have need of you!”

His beseeching words sliced through Vilmaith's moment of shock. She blinked a few times and saw him staring into her eyes when the sword struck him in the back of the head. His blood splattered over her, and she lunged with her sword, killing the attacker as the Rhovanion man fell toward her and to the ground. As if the spell was broken, Vilmiath turned and deflected a sword aimed at her neck, then pushed forth with some other Rhovanions. The battle raged until sunrise, and the light of day found Vilmiath and the remnants of her Royal Guards victorious. They prevented the raiders from getting a foothold in the city. Just.

On the east side of the river, the raiders fared better. They had managed to defeat the Ithilien Guard that held the confluence of the Anduin and the Morgulduin and managed to breach the line Aldamir had set in place. Their penetration was not far, and losses were heavy for the raiders, but they held their hard-won key ground. It was to be the beginning of the battle of Osgiliath.

The armies of Castamir surged toward the gates of Osgiliath, and as the projectiles of the engines rained down upon the city, they managed to bring a ram to the gates. At the same time, ships led by Silares came upriver from Harlond carrying men who would land on both sides of the river. The engines Eldacar had managed to sink one ship and damage others, but most of the men were able to land on the east side. After three days, East Osgiliath had fallen, dividing Eldacar’s forces.

Aldamir tried to force his way to the city but ended up retreating to Minas Ithil. That same day, the gates of Osgiliath were broken and Castamir’s army poured into the city. After days of bloody fighting in the streets, Ornedil was forced into a pocket in the north of the city along with the Lord of Edhellond and his men. He and the Lord of Edhellond led a counterattack while Eldacar led the evacuation to Rhovanion. The city fell a day later, the crown prince and Edhellond’s Lord captured. In the east, Aldamir fought on, and with a great push against Castamir’s army, he had his Ithilien Rangers cover their withdrawal to the north. With Osgiliath in Castamir’s hands, they were forced to make their way through Dagorlad to east Rhovanion.

Eldacar had tried to get all his Rhovanion Guard out of the city, for he knew there would be no quarter for them. But they were fierce and would not stand down from a fight unless directly ordered. When he took account of his Guard in Rhovanion, too many had been lost. He knew not the whereabouts Vilmiath, or the twins Vilna and Vidnavi, the shieldmaidens of Rhovanion. He had no word of their deaths, nor were they with him in his escape. Eldacar was left now in exile among his mother’s people, and Castamir had forced his kingship over all of Gondor. And if that was not bitter enough, his eldest son was now Castamir’s prisoner and it was unlikely that the usurper would suffer him to live, not with two sons of his own to see to the throne.

Word from Gondor was sparse and chaotic. Confusion reigned in those early days of defeat. Those nobles that remained loyal scrambled north as best they could, harried all the way by Castamir’s forces for the usurper was eager to wither Eldacar’s ranks and supporters however he might. Those that survived told grim tales of vicious pogroms. The slaughter had not ended with Castamir’s victory. His thirst for power merely morphed to a thirst for vengeance. Those further afield stood little chance of escaping the usurper's heavy boot.

And so it came to be that Eldacar was alone, far from Gondor, surrounded by the battered remnants of his royal court, the remains of his loyal Gondorian Royal Guard and army, and the few remaining Rhovanion Royal Guards that had lived.

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List of Canon Characters Involved:

• Valacar
• Eldacar
• Castamir
• Ornedil
• Aldamir
• Vinyarion

List of Original Characters:

• Halvarin
• Amarwen
• Calamir
• Therald
• Alenna
• Vilmiath
• Vilna
• Vidnavi
• Rhinnin
• Silares

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

It seemed the Swan-Knight of Lond Côl was not alone in his personal quest and drive for vengeance. It had been a long and dreadful war, with many acts of aggression taken by both sides. But none had been so devious or cruel as those carried out by Umbar. Their wounds went deep and though there was peace and a King again, those wounds were slow to heal. And even slower to be forgotten. He wondered what other tragic stories there might be out there, though if those that Lond Côl suffered was to be a standard, then they would be terrible indeed. And now it was time to ensure it never happened again to any citizen of Gondor. Or of any land.

He stayed quiet though, standing at the position of attention, hands behind his back and his shoulders squared. He listened to the Lieutenant discuss how it might be a problem, not just in Abrazimir’s case, but others, upon encountering certain individuals. They weren’t like orcs or wicked men, they were not going to Umbar to raid, pillage, kill. Certainly not without good reason or cause. Criminals faced justice in Gondor, not a swift and merciless end, even if that was the most their enemy had once given them.

”My crew will follow orders, mine and any other superior officers. Yours too, if I instructed it to be so.” He assured her of his crew’s loyalty and obedience. Himself, he could accept fault and flaw. But for his men? He was protective of their dignity and honour, as their leader. At the mention of his sword, his hand moved there, grabbing the hilt, thumbing the pommel. There was desire in his hand indeed to utilize it against an enemy of Gondor. It had been so long since they had gotten to strike back, rather than sitting aside and waiting for the enemy. Yeah, he might indeed require some help in not letting his emotions get the better of him. And lashing out at any and all foes.

”Indeed, it is mutual, though mostly out of common sense. I like being free and seeing my family. And Keket Halsad will do anything to bring destruction upon me. It is only reasonable I seek to end him before he ends me, in a most miserable fashion as is his way, whatever his little imagination can conjure.” Abrazimir admitted easily. ”But you said so yourself just prior, that he and others of his kin, will be dealt with outright. Unlike him, I will not play games with my prey, torturing them needlessly. It will be a swift and decisive judgement on my part, if I should encounter him.”

He held up his hand though and gave a small smile. ”Of course, if capture and apprehension is possible, I will endeavour to attempt that first, before any other…more violent course of action, Lieutenant.” He pointed out, remembering the lesson she just gave to him here. Orders were still orders. His duty would have to compete with his desires. But one thing he could not do is sit still and idle here. If there was a mission to be done, he wanted to be on it.

”You will send word when the time has come for this mission, yes? We should discuss a safe and secretive form of communication then, given the interception that had occurred with our letters.” He stated, thinking it would be no trouble at him to send a trusted messenger to deliver a verbal message instead of a written one, as that could not be so easily intercepted by the enemy. Might take longer, but the caution would secure the confidentiality of their objective here.

[Hanasian]

#3 Private

(the Last part of the Kin Strife story is Here))


Kin Strife of Gondor ~ The Reign of King Castamir
As told by

Halvarin and Amarwen.

Historical - Gondor - Years 1432-1448 of the Third Age


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Halvarin's Dilemma - Minas Anor
Víressë to Nárië 1437 III

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Halvarin maintained his silence as he wended his way through the White City’s tiers. With the truth so clouded, and so many dead at the hand of... by the order of the new King, he had been pondering his position at length after what he had witnessed in Osgiliath, and then, what he witnessed in Edhellond. He should have done more, certainly at Edhellond, but what he did not know. He had tried to defend the woman he loved, keep her safe, yet she refused to do what was necessary in these times to survive. Too proud to even pretend at bending her knee.

Their arrival at the chambers the Mariner’s Guild maintained in Minas Anor revealed many grim, if not outright displeased faces at the aftermath of Castamir’s rise to the kingship. Instead of mercy and wisdom, Castamir had responded with a show of force and mercilessness. Unsullied as his descent from mighty Númenor might be, he was set to rule from fear instead of love.

No sooner had their party dismounted did Guild members press in, demanding to know the outcome of Edhellond. A heated discussion sprang up and as it unfolded, Halvarin noted that a number of Guild stalwarts were absent. He stood back, listening closely as his father and other senior mariners traded terse words in hushed tones. When the words were spent, little had changed. The Guild remained steadfast in their determination to support Castamir. These men, who had stared down the might and power of the raging oceans had balked. His stomach twisted at the thought, and later that night as the fine wines began to flow, Halvarin found himself unable to take part. He shook his head at the offer of a glass and that would have been that if his father had not interceded.

He watched his father swoop up a glass of dark wine and hold to him with the admonishment, ”The King is victorious! We all should celebrate!”

Were it not for the flat note of his father’s voice, Halvarin would have missed the sarcasm altogether. Still, for all of that, he appreciated the wisdom of his father’s counsel. The absences in those gathered that night spoke volumes. Dissent was no longer a luxury any could afford in Gondor. Halvarin accepted the wine from his father and followed those present to lift his glass to salute the new King. Yet, he lagged in sipping at his wine, his thoughts again drifting to Edhellond. Amarwen’s pale, stricken face as she witnessed her mother’s death haunted him, her dismay and fear palpable even now. Inwardly, Halvarin mused, ‘To Lady Amarwen, now Lady of Edhellond. May you find your way through this storm to safe harbour.’

As the others finished their drink, Halvarin tipped his glass and took it all down in one gulp. There was a silence in the guild room which was only broken by someone speaking in a low tone. At that, those present in the hall resumed their usual chatter. Halvarin studied the base of his glass, swirled what remained and raised it to his mouth to drain the final drops. With that seen to, he set his glass aside and debated heading for the door as his father seemed set to speak further with the guildsmen.

Calamir paused and turned his head, watching Halvarin for a moment before he turned to one of the senior officers that stood by him. There was never any shortage of men seeking his father’s ear. The new Master of Ships was a very powerful man, especially now with the former Master of Ships sitting upon the throne of Gondor. Aware that his father would likely be talking of him at any moment, Halvarin hoped he would become preoccupied by such other matters for the remainder of the evening.

Unable to find any of his peers present in the hall, Halvarin considered his departure anew and wanted to slip out the door unnoticed. He was determined to find time for his own thoughts before his sour disposition was noted by these senior officers. He paused again with the hearing of the words from the captain of the Foam Cutter as he pounced on Halvarin's father, ”Impolitic to doubt our King now, even no one could possibly have anticipated this state of affairs.”

Calamir nodded, glancing toward Halvarin. ”The Mariners Guild have no role in determining the King’s course.”

Masterful, Halvarin thought, for such a statement could be seen in more than one light. The Foam Cutter’s captain nodded in agreement and with their continued conversation, Halvarin made his break from the Guildhall.

It was not long before he found himself at the White Tree Inn on the first level of the city by the gate. Halvarin ordered a glass of the strongest port wine they had. He knew it was no match for the Dorwinion wine they had been supping at the Guild Hall. Ironic, he realized, that the Mariner’s Guild even now were enjoying the fruits of the Northmen they had repudiated to such an extent that they had overthrown their King. Halvarin drank deeply from the rough wooden mug, his mind careening about. Drinking and thinking, he thought, a dangerous combination in these times. Still, for all of that, he could not pretend that he did not fear. What was happening to his beloved Gondor? His beloved Amarwen?


A few days and nights passed in this fashion before Halvarin received fresh orders. He was assigned to a large ship that would be leaving from Pelargir south to the rumoured woodlands of Far Harad. With these orders in hand, Halvarin felt a sense of profound relief. This he could do. Far better, far preferable, than the orders that had sent him with his father to Edhellond. As he set to readying himself for the river voyage to Pelargir, Halvarin found himself reviewing just how he had come to find himself in this predicament...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
On the road to Harlond

Duinion nodded as the lieutenant pointed out the fact that they should still prepare for the possibility of archers, he couldn't really argue with that logic. "True enough." He answered quietly. He had not intended to dismiss the possibility of being shot at, but he still felt it unlikely these enemies would want to kill them... he recalled what had been told to him about how a whole ship full of sailors were taken captive and sacrificed in that horrific temple. He'd never set eyes on the place, but already despised it. And from what he'd heard, he wouldn't put it past these people to want to capture as many extras as they could, for that same purpose. Yet, he could also understand taking precautions.

When Arnyn answered his question about 'Naluthor', with another name, he frowned as he took a moment to think of why that name rang a bell somewhere in his memory. Then it clicked, once he connected the name with a specific incident that he had heard plenty about, back when it happened. "Androllius..?" He repeated with a somewhat puzzled frown. "The guard?" He couldn't help feeling rather shocked, and a bit incredulous, to hear her connecting him with a man who was supposed to be heavily in league with Pharak. But, then again, now that he had recalled Androllius to his memory, he also couldn't help thinking about various other things that could possibly make sense with this added element included. He began to feel a little stunned by it all. How long had all of this been going on?

That thought led him to further concern as he pondered it. He took in a slow breath, then let it out even more slowly. There was so much racing through his head at the moment, and he needed to sort his thoughts a bit. A moment of silence passed while he was processing, and recalling what he could about... all of that. That incident had been bad enough. The Umbar stuff had been terrible, as well. But now, on top of everything else, this new piece of information.. that the two might actually be connected? It seemed like a lot to take in and fit into the bigger picture somehow.

"Lieutenant..." He spoke softly after a few moments, but loud enough for her to hear. It seemed that she had been watching him, possibly for a reaction, possibly trying to figure out what was troubling him. He didn't know which was the case, but he had made up his mind to tell her something, and hoped he wouldn't regret it. He took another slow breath in preparation. "It seems to me that you have pieces of this puzzle which I do not, and perhaps I have some which you do not. But in any case," He glanced over at her. "I think, perhaps, you ought to know why I made the choice I did, today." He cleared his throat lightly, feeling a bit self-conscious. "As much as I wanted, more than anything, to stay with my daughter right now..." He sighed, focusing his gaze ahead. "It was important.. in fact, necessary.. that I take part in this." He informed her. "You see, I.. I made a vow, several years ago." His eyes scanned the roadsides as they traveled, avoiding looking at her, nor either of the other two. "I vowed that I would do all that I could to ensure that.. Nal would remain safe." He explained quietly with a faint smile at some distant recollection.

He went on after a brief pause, with a faint note of sadness in his voice, "At the time, I did not fully understand the need for such a vow, nor why it was being asked of me. But.. with everything that's happened, and everything I've learned, since that day... and especially today..." he returned his gaze to Arnyn then. "It's becoming more and more certain to me that this is what that vow was all about." He paused for a moment, before adding, "I could be wrong, of course, but it seems far too coincidental, how much everything is beginning to line up and fit together. And it's a bit more.. convoluted and expansive than what I can properly put into words at this time." He cleared his throat again. "I don't know if that helps or clears anything up, or makes it more confusing... but there it is." He shrugged. "Just.. seemed as if it was relevant," He added, feeling a bit strange to be telling someone this, after all these years.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

Her dark brown eyes held his grey gaze as he spoke of his crew, and of Keket Halsad. Arnyn could see no doubt in this man. Mostly, what she could see was a readiness - an eagerness, even, to be a part of this mission. Abrazimir Dimaethor was not merely offering his assistance because she had asked. If she were to suddenly deny him, she felt like he would at the very least protest, and quite likely, go over her head. The Lieutenant smiled faintly. There was no reason not to take up his offer. In fact, she had every reason to hope he would not withdraw it. This meeting had already been good on one count: now she had seen the look in his eyes, the set of his shoulders and his hand on his weapon. She had heard the tone of his voice. He would not be withdrawing from this mission. Not even in case his father might advise against it, part of her mind said. Though the only reason she could see for Lord Zainaben to wish for his son to sit this one out, would be to ensure his heir's survival. The danger, after all, was not to be underestimated.

She slanted her head, her gaze sweeping over the people on the deck below as well as over the docks before returning to the warship's commander. "All types of messages could be intercepted," she continued as they had been conversing - in Sindarin. "Whether it is a written or verbal. The only way to keep the message itself from betraying our plans would be to encode it somehow. Or to already agree on a next meeting, in person, this very day."

"Lord Abrazimir," she began, "Permission was granted to end the life of Keket Halsad outright. And while it is commendable that you would still seek to capture and apprehend even one such as him..." Arnyn frowned as she drew in a deep, slow breath. "I do not seek the same. I have heard too many accounts on the man, coming from people in whom I place my trust. If I were to encounter Keket Halsad, and I were to know it was indeed that man standing before me, I would give him no quarter. Hence, I will not ask nor expect you to do otherwise. And if you and yours capture him and do not end his existence yourselves, either Captain Alarion or myself would. Long before the ship would carry us home."

"Speaking of." The Lieutenant paused to run a hand over the railing next to them. She watched it and then took in some of the vessel's rigging, the sails, the mast... "The King's Rangers are no sailor warriors such as you and yours," she continued a bit more quietly. "Neither am I. Yet we have every benefit of preparing them, of preparing ourselves, as well as we may. Not that we literally need to learn all the ropes," she smiled faintly, some humour shining through despite the gravity of the subject matter, "But it would be wise for us to grow accustomed to being out on open water, to a ship's sleeping accommodations, to the way the vessel moved out on the water. I need to know who will get seasick and be next to useless to us in the first leg of the mission, when we set out to capture the pirates. I would have you and yours teach us how to pull our own weight on a ship. And how to board another vessel." She looked back at the Swan Knight. "Would that be too much to ask of you, Lord?"

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
To Harlond, September 3rd

Duinion looked puzzled and honestly, really surprised. Arnyn could understand that part of it. She, as well, had needed a while to wrap her mind around the idea of a guard being tainted in such a profound way. When he said they might each have pieces of the puzzle the other did not, Arnyn tilted her head. Would she be needing to have yet another conversation about all things Umbar? She did not want to. But it seemed like she would have to.

Needing no more than the soft 'Lieutenant' and the look on Duinion's face, she fell back a little, letting Sarina and Vorondil take the lead. What Duinion told her next, about the vow he made, about ensuring Unalmis would be kept safe, the Lieutenant frowned in thought. She nodded slowly as she processed that this was the reason he had wanted to come here, instead of going back to the city with Erynneth. "It is relevant," she acknowledged quietly. "To whom did you make this vow, Duinion?" she wondered. Who would have asked such a thing from him? Domanol? Unalmis' father? Would they not have shared more information then, on why they had asked such a thing of him? Why would Duinion's best friend, if it had been him, not explain what such a vow was about?
"If I may ask," she added, belatedly realizing it might be too personal.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
On the road to Harlond

Honestly, he was a bit glad that Arnyn fell back slightly, and he did likewise so that the conversation would be a bit more private. While it wasn't exactly a huge secret, he still felt a bit self-conscious just bringing it up at all. He was glad she listened quietly while he said what he needed to say. But then, of course, she did have at least one question to ask by the time he had finished.

He had known she would be asking that. And yet, knowing it would be asked didn't seem to make it any easier when she did ask it. He let his gaze rest downward at the back of Buttercup's neck as he drew in a slow breath and let it out in a soft sigh. The addition she gave a moment later brought a tiny hint of a smile to his face. At least she was considerate enough to recognize that it might be either personal, or secretive. But it was not the latter, and... well, personal or not, he had not brought up the matter just to leave it half-told.

Swallowing down a little lump threatening to swell up in his throat, Duinion blinked a couple of times before he made himself look up and over at her again. There was a sadness lingering in his eyes. "A young man who.. I once trained. He was.." He paused as his words caught briefly in his throat, trying to think of the best way to explain it to someone who was not familiar. "He was as close to me, as I believe Trastion is to you." He felt that should give her some idea to the relationship he had had with this young man. "He.. asked this of me, as he.. died. In my arms." He forced the words out while struggling not to give in to emotion.

He had to take a couple of breaths then, and cleared his throat before continuing. "Eryn told me, before I parted from her earlier, that the man who did all of this.." He motioned in general at the trail and where they were heading, meaning 'this, today', as his jaw tightened and the sorrowful expression shifted to one of anger, "is the same person who killed Ryndir."

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
To Harlond, September 3rd

The vow had been made to a young man who had been as close to Duinion as Trastion was to her? Arnyn glanced at the Tirdinen. Had been? And just how much did he know about what Trastion meant to her, anyway? That this young man had died in Duinion's arms, made her heart clench. And Eryn had told Duinion that her kidnapper had also been responsible for this young man's death...

Ryndir. Wait. Ryndir? Ryn? Cali's brother? So if Arnyn's instincts were right about who this might be, if it was Androllius, then he had murdered the smithy's ranger brother as well?

Arnyn suppressed the urge to rub at her temples. She did already think that Androllius and Arkadhur would know each other, possibly even aid each other from time to time. Or rival each other - you never knew with these Umbarians. They thought so differently. It wasn't at all impossible for the murder weapon to change hands between them.

Focus, she reminded herself. On the task at hand.

"I understand." It was only a short sentence. Two words. But the weight of her tone conveyed she did not speak them lightly. The Lieutenant looked at the ranger next to her. Eryn, as well, had understood, hadn't she? That was why she had not fought her father on his decision at all. He had to be here. Not just for Eryn, or even just for Unalmis. But for Ryndir, as well. "Given this dimension," she spoke slowly, "will you be able to keep a level head? If you were to see the man responsible for the danger your daughter was in, and knowing that he was also the one responsible for Ryndir's fate?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
On the road to Harlond

Despite the few amount of words the lieutenant gave in reply, Duinion felt that she did, indeed, understand. He'd worked with Trastion plenty of times by now, and had heard the way the Recruit.. or, Trainee, rather.. talked about Arnyn. It was evident that he had developed a close bond with the lieutenant, and that was something Duinion understood, even if he didn't share the young man's enthusiasm for the woman riding next to him.

When she asked a question to follow up, Duinion wasn't entirely surprised. That was, in fact, the very reason he had hesitated so much to even mention this at all. But there was no way he was staying out of this. In that regard, he felt a little bad for keeping Unalmis and Domanol out of it, too. But he also hoped, by explaining about this vow, that perhaps Arnyn would also realized his reasons for ensuring that Nal would not be here to be put in any danger that might even be intended specifically for him.

"I will." He answered with a slow nod, his hazel gaze meeting with Arnyn's, for a moment. "I just thought it might be good for you to know that piece. I don't know how Eryn learned this information, but she would not say it lightly. Ryndir was a friend of hers.. in fact, practically family. She said she was sure, and I believe her on that. Which makes me wonder if this fellow might have said something to Ryndir before killing him.. something which made Ryndir worry that Unalmis was next." He frowned. "That.. would explain why he asked me to be sure that Nal was safe." He added with a thoughtful look. "I always did wonder about that. Unalmis wasn't even in the rangers, then."

He took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. "I am angry, lieutenant.. don't get me wrong. This man killed a good friend of mine; a young man who had.. so much of his life ahead of him." He paused, swallowing down the emotion as well as he could. "Now, he dares to kidnap my daughter? And he has plans to do.. who knows what else.." He took a slow breath to regain the appearance of calm. "But, I want answers more than anything, right now. You don't have to worry about me losing my head and going berserk on him, if we find him." He offered a grim smile. "Though if we do, and he tries to run, I can't guarantee he won't end up with an arrow in his leg."

The harbor was not far off now, and the different sounds of a harbor were already audible. Duinion was keeping an eye out for the chandlery, which he had never seen before. But, he had heard enough to recall that it was somewhere by the harbor, and that there was a dock at the back, for loading cargo onto ships.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

At the switch back to the elven tongue, Abrazimir could feel a finality fast approaching this conversation and discussion. To the notion of encoding messages or just plotting out their next steps here, he nodded in agreement to the suggestion. Though, they did live rather far apart and a lot could develop in that time, that could change the foundation of any plan left here. And then, would a message suffice, at the risk of interception? It could go any number of ways. Abrazimir was committed though. They would find a way.

He had tried not to be too zealous in his feelings towards Halsad. Often, in the pursuit and destruction of orcs and wicked men, it was not unheard of for a virtuous man to fall prey to the same hateful features that defined those evil folk. Hearing the Lieutenant express her own hatred and desire for Halsad’s end was rather comforting. ”As you say, ma’am. How it shall all play out reminds to be seen, but I will remember your logic and wisdom here, if such a scene should play out between myself, my people, and this enemy.” He informed her, before the Lieutenant changed to another topic.

She spoke of the inexperience of Rangers upon the water, which was to be expected. A good military had units and formations for every contingency. Abrazimir and his men, while veteran mariners, would fare poorly in a mountain battle or desert skirmish. He grinned and looked aside for a moment, trying not to laugh at her witty pun about her folk not needing to learn all the ropes, of which there were many on a vessel. He was quick to return his gaze attentively to her. Her statements though had a strong sense of pragmatism to it and he was already shaking his head to refute the notion that it might be an extra bother to teach and tutor the Lieutenant’s warriors in seaborne warfare.

”When I first learned to sail in my youth, seasickness was common even for me. But I learned, through repeat exercise and drill upon ships how to steady oneself and grow accustom to it. I believe yours will be quick to learn, as I was. It will be no bother at all to teach the contrasting details of warfare conducted upon the sea.” He nodded to Arnyn. ”I would suggest at least picking men and women who already know how to swim. And I know from my brief time in the Rangers that they are lightly armoured and equipped, as befits their form of warfare. It is similar for mariners, as you can no doubt see, if a heavily armoured warrior such as I were to fall overboard, we would sink faster than any stone. Being able to swim back to safety, to remain alive, is the first priority. To defeat the enemy, that can be learned after.” He said, keeping in line with their earlier talk about preserving lives, of his people and hers. A brief snippet of how he would conduct this training, starting with that. Staying alive.

”When would you like to begin this training? Normally it would take years to make an experienced seadog and veteran, but I see we do not have that sort of time. Do you have a roster of willing men and women, soldiers and officers, ready to go?” He inquired of her, looking and feeling ready to begin such a task right then and there, if necessary. ”A week or two, at open sea, without sight of land, that could be a great way to dive into the training.” He mused aloud, making his own pun, though not as witty or casual as hers was.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

Her lips quirked at Abrazimir's own pun. It had been obvious before that he had caught her earlier one, given his grin - even though he'd glanced away at the time. But that he now made one in return, reinforced that he appreciated the humor, or was even possibly looking for some rapport with her. Her brown eyes lit with warmth even as she considered his question. When would she like to begin this training?

"My heart would say: as soon as we may," she said genuinely. She was concerned for her rangers and had a strong desire to prepare them as well as she could. "But my mind corrects me, I fear. I cannot make all the arrangements in the absence of my Captain. I am to finetune the plans, not in the least aided by this meeting with you. Once the plans have taken shape, the Captain and I will put the mission to our Rangers and see who will come with us." Given the King's orders, as she had made clear already, only those who were willing to go, could go at all. "Autumn is already upon us, and the winter soon will be. Which months, would you say, are suited for such training? To be out there?" she inquired, referring to the open sea, as he had. And part of her wondered if it would be beautiful.

---

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

The Lieutenant tilted her chin up slightly at Duinion's words, her eyes returning to the street. "Same," she said simply, after Duinion claimed he couldn't guarantee their adversary wouldn't end up with an arrow in his leg. After a few breaths, her gaze found Duinion's. "I do not intend to let anyone involved in this, to run and get away."

She led them toward the street where Trevadir had explained to her that this store would be located. Since she'd been meaning to come and take a look at it, anyway, but also had still been looking for a way to do so without dropping a clue to anyone involved that the King's Rangers knew about it, this gave her a good excuse.

"Duinion," she spoke quietly, to get the Tirdinen's attention again as they neared the street where the chandlery should be. "Thank you for telling me." After breathing in and out again, she added: "You said I need not worry about you losing your head." Arnyn nodded at him. "I now trust you will not."

Speaking louder, she addressed all three of the other Rangers, now. "We're coming up on the right street. To the right, behind that corner."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - Arriving at the Chandlery

Duinion gave a tiny nod in reply to the lieutenant's words. He was glad they were in agreement about that; he had no intention of letting anyone get away. The fewer people working for Halsad that there were out there, the fewer there were who could hurt the people he cared about. Dom, Eryn, Unalmis.. all of them.

He quietly followed Arnyn's lead, as she seemed to have a better idea about where to go than he did. Then, as she addressed him again in a quiet tone, he looked toward her again and gave a small nod. He realized that this would be the first time that he and Arnyn had actually worked together in any situation, so he understood that she would not know what to expect with him.

As they neared the chandlery, Duinion kept his senses alert, looking around carefully. He scanned rooftops and alleys, and anywhere else that he could think of where someone might hide to ambush them. "Should we split up, and search the outside of the building, or stay together?" He asked quietly. Looking at it from the street showed an ordinary, two story building, a bit dilapidated-looking. The sign on the front, announcing it to be a chandlery, was faded and the paint was peeling. The windows were dusty and boarded up, and all in all, the place looked as if it had been shut up for at about five or six years.

There was a tall, wooden fence stretching out from each side of the building, wrapping around toward the back and enclosing the entire property to deter trespassers. Tall, overgrown grass, weeds, and brush grew up against the wooden boards of the fence, which were placed too close together to peek through any gaps. It seemed quite evident that there had been no maintenance upkeep on either the building or the property in some time. It was almost perfect for what the rumors claimed it was used for; the building was set a little further apart from the other businesses in the area, with the back of the building situated near the edge of a small cliff, overlooking the water.

The only drawback for the claim that smugglers had taken over the business, was that there was no apparent access from ships, and any vessel which came close to the cliff would be too obviously seen there by the port authorities. So, it would appear to be difficult to smuggle anything in or out of this business without drawing too much attention.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

Abrazimir felt like he could have guessed the answer. As soon as we may. Like him, the Lieutenant seemed to share an eagerness for getting into the groundwork of any operation or scheme. Feet first, into the mud, so to speak. Or in this case, diving headfirst into the problem. He could appreciate that. But before he could get ahead of himself with the infectious enthusiasm, the Lieutenant drew them both back with some cold, undeniable logic. Organizing any body of men and women was no milk run. And there were other details to settle first. He nodded in agreement with her statements, not offering up any resistance, though his heart sank at the delay. What was he supposed to do for the next half-year with this dreadful anticipation now?

”The winter months brings storms over the high seas. Shifting, icy cold winds create swells and squalls that can be extremely dangerous and fatal to survive. The delay is prudent. It will have to be spring and throughout the summer, when the ocean is tranquil and in the embrace of our Lady Uinen.” Abrazimir said, not normally superstitious, but having seen the ocean, in all seasons and months, he knew summertime would forever be the kindest to the race of sailors and mariners, of any species.

”Though, if you think your group of volunteers is hardy enough to dare the winter seas, there would be no better occasion to learn all the ins and outs of the profession. But, it might be costly, in more ways than one, Lieutenant.” Abrazimir also stated, knowing it would be a challenge, even for his sea-captaincy talents. But if that’s what it took to prepare for a successful assault against the pirates, who themselves have and could survive in the high seas during the winter, the Gondorians had to do equal or better if need be.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

Even though it was expected, the confirmation of her suspicions was still irksome. She did not like it. While she did not dream of setting sail to capture pirates in winter, she would prefer not to wait to prepare the King's Rangers until spring. If they waited that long to prepare, who knew when the actual mission could take place? Silence reigned as Arnyn listened to Abrazimir's words, to then mull them over in her mind as her gaze drifted back to the knight's sailor warriors.

"I will request of Captain Alarion to start preparing the Rangers in winter," the Lieutenant finally said as her dark eyes flicked back at the ship's commander. "So that we may embark on the mission sometime in the spring." She raised one hand, as if to forestall a response from him. "I do not know whether she will approve of it. As you say, delay would be prudent. Then again, if we train in the rougher winter seas... then it stands to expectations that we will do all the better in the calmer waters brought by the spring. And I do like that thought."

"As I said earlier, the plan is to start with Devedir and his crew. To find and to neutralize them, first. One way to engage the pirates could be, if you manage to find and salvage that flag, to use that same flag Thormaetha flies in order to get a ship of our side close enough to them so that we may board their own. Overcome them that way."

"However... There are also means open to us, here in Harlond, to lure Thormaetha's attention to us. If we parade interesting supplies past the right location, past the right person - speaking loudly enough of where those supplies are heading... Then the pirates might just come to us".

She was pretty sure she knew what the best option was. "I have my own idea about which plan is likely to work better." Not to mention that the first plan was moot anyway, if the flag could not be found. "For when you are looking for a predator in order to end their killing, you do not try and make it think you are a friend. You lure it in, and you have it thinking you are an easy meal. Before revealing your own claws."

Arnyn watched the knight's expression attentively. "I have been advised to involve you in both the preparation and execution of any plans. Tell me, Lord Abrazimir, what are your thoughts on this matter? You have dealt with this man in the past. Which would be the better option in your opinion? To try and pass ourselves off as some Umbarian ally, or to present ourselves as too much of an interesting quarry to let sail away?"

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

After having said his piece, Abrazimir moved both his hands behind his back in an informal style of being at attention. His eyes observed back cooly as the Lieutenant fixed him back with her own stare, musing over her options. It all depended on how Captain Alarion might respond to this information too, to which he was about to suggest that he could meet with her as well if necessary, though the Lieutenant halted him before he could say anything, thinking a winter training session would prove more fruitful.

In any case, beyond the training, would be the operation. And how shall they begin it? With some sort of assault upon the smugglers and pirates already within the bounds of Gondor. That would be prudent, removing a potential stream of information about Gondor’s activities from reaching back to Umbar. And while it seemed a good idea to strike first at that thrice-cursed Devedir Thormaetha, there was the problem of actually finding him and luring him into such an ambush. The Lieutenant had some ideas, which included offering some sort of bait to draw the pirate in. Something bountiful and rich. He hummed thoughtfully in agreement, having some ideas, but waited for the Lieutenant to relay all her thoughts first, as was proper.

”You have my full involvement, for all stages of this, Lieutenant. You know that.” Abrazimir declared first. ”The two options are effective and yet full of holes in their own way. It is the methodology of this particular pirate to use disguises and falsehoods, to sneak in among our lines and cause havoc and chaos. And always, as he expects and we do without fail, we reacted brashly and strong-handed, rushing in. It might be a dramatic irony to use this same tactic against them. Though, it is also equally possible he might see the telltale signs of a trap, having done so many times before, that it’s second nature to him.” He concluded with a frown, gazing off towards the south, where the Anduin stretched down past Harlond, towards Pelargir and then to the sea. And thus to Umbar.

”What if…” Abrazimir began, wondering if this next idea might be wiser, or more dangerous, ”yes, I have encountered him many times. We have lost and caused losses to one another. If we are to offer an easy meal…why not me and my men? The desire for revenge could be a powerful motivator and if we could, say, present my ship in some false sense of disrepair and seemingly immobilized, he might take the chance to fall upon me to finish me off, or worse.” Enslave him for humiliation and torture and who knows what else. But that wouldn’t be anything new in his experience. He had been there a few times before, at the near-risk of becoming servile to their cruel enemies. He knew what to expect by now.

”We know the pirate has the capability to intercept our messages. I could pretend to scuttle my ship near the mouths of the Anduin, send a missive requesting aid to salvage the ship. The message may be intercepted and lure Devedir and his ilk to my position, where we can lay an ambush.” This presented two problems however. One, the message may not be intercepted at all and Abrazimir might end up waiting for a long time in some deserted coastline for nothing. Or secondly, it did lure Devedir into assaulting his immobilized vessel, to which Abrazimir and his men would be the first line of defense, to take the bulk of the pirate assault, while the Lieutenant and Captain brought their own Ranger forces in to conduct an encirclement and trap. That would take time. And in that time, many lives could be lost. Including his own.

But…he was ready. He was always ready. He knew it would only end one way between himself and Devedir. And he would rather get it over with.

”Or, if not my battleship, then a merchantman, that we can exchange letters stating contains a very sensitive shipment, to which I will personally oversee. The pirate might feel bolder to assault a less defended merchant vessel than a battleship. But instead of precious cargo in the hold, we stack as many armed and eager warriors as we can, so when the pirate unhinges his jaw to take a bite, he’ll get more than he bargained for.” He suggested as a possible improvement to his plan. What would the pirate be more eager to take? Revenge on a hated foe and the removal of a powerful naval asset? Or give in to his greed and strike a lucrative cargo on a more vulnerable ship? He looked back to the Lieutenant finally, after gazing out along the Great River, having concluded his initial thoughts. What did she think of that?

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

"If they would be looking to capture you or Unalmis, they would probably be inside, other than perhaps a sentry," Arnyn thought out loud, her eyes focused and thoughtful as she took in everything around them as inconspicuously as she could. "Four of us," she added, still thinking out loud. "One building and one outside area. But if it is set up as an uncreative trap in the sense of it just being multiple people who would be trying to get at us, it would be best to stay together. If the trap is more intricate, smarter - then it could be good to split up so the pair who walks into the trap can be aided by the pair still untrapped."

The Lieutenant fell silent for a moment, considering the advantages and disadvantages of each approach in silence. "We're expected," she finally said, coolly and calmly, as she looked over at Duinion. "And we're expected to act rashly." Given that the man had been trying to lead them here in the first place. "But we have also taken longer, perhaps, than expected. It's a gamble either way. But I think I would prefer for us to stick together in this scenario."

"What are everyone's thoughts on this?" she asked all three of them.

Vorondil looked unsure, and he made a bit of a face to emphasize that. He gave a little shrug. "I don't know, Lieutenant. Like you say, it depends on what might be waiting for us. There might just be one or two people in there. There might not be anyone at all. But if some sort of trap is sprung without people present to attack us, I think we should be smart enough to get out of it, right? So in case there are people waiting for us... yeah, I think I'd like to stick together."

Sarina frowned. "I'd prefer to keep more of a distance and back you lot up if need be. But if you three were to go inside, there wouldn't be much to do for me from the outside. Other than be a look out. And even then... what could I do? I couldn't shoot people just for entering a building. Not enough due cause, right?" Her eyes found Arnyn's, who gave a reluctant nod. "Right," Sarina continued. "So I'll go in if that's the consensus."

Arnyn's brown eyes now rested on Duinion. "Raedor?"

---

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

As she listened to the knight's ideas, her intial reaction was no more than a pensive frown as she looked from Abrazimir to their surroundings, nodding every so often to show he still had her full attention. She was merely mulling over everything as he was presenting it all to her.

By the time he finished, however, her frown had faded to an expression of focused interest. And her lips even bore a smile that hinted of slyness when she returned her gaze to the warship's commander. A smile that would tell him she liked at least one of his suggestions. Her eyes glinted with something that was difficult to pinpoint. Perhaps it was satisfaction at the way his suggestions showed his commitment. Perhaps it was pleasure in how they could exchange ideas and possibly arrive to a better plan together than they might have alone. Perhaps it was both.

"We cannot rely on the possibility of a message being intercepted," she began, "for it might waste too much time, and time is of value to us." The smile and the glint in her eyes, however, already told him she was not about to discard all of his ideas. Not in the slightest. "A merchant ship, with a cargo that would be both very valuable to the pirate and that would also make sense for you to oversee it in person," she repeated - agreed. "We will have to think of what exactly that cargo should be," she reminded him, probably unnecessarily. "If word reached Thormaetha, it would be too much for him to resist. Value in goods and value in his desire for revenge against you."

"Luckily, we need not rely on the interception of a message. I know just the person, or perhaps even people, in Harlond who need to hear about this merchant's ship that is in need of aid and repairs. We drop the information, the bait - and all we need to do is wait for word to reach the pirate. With such an irresistible combination... Why would he not come, if he had the chance? Then let him ruin his teeth on our blades." Arnyn intently watched Abrazimir's eyes for his reaction. What would he think of this adjustment to the plan? With the knight's idea about combining the lure of money with revenge, and her knowledge about Devedir's contacts in Harlond, they could set a near perfect trap. Couldn't they?

[Rillewen]

(private)

|
September 3rd - midmorning
Harlond - The Chandlery

Mar yelped and yanked his arm back when Merilda poured some alcohol on the wound, then with the other arm, backhanded her, so that she fell out of her seat and onto the floor. “Easy with that stuff!” He growled, before wincing as he realized he’d caused his other arm to hurt a bit.


They had sneaked into a supposedly disused building, and once there, he had ordered Merilda to stay put for a moment while he went to secure the door behind them. She looked around the front room. It had apparently once been the sales room; there were shelves where candles had once been displayed for sale all along the walls, with some other display tables in the center of the room. There was a counter where the clerk would have waited on customers and made the transactions. The single window at the back of the room was thick in dust, and she stood absently scratching around her ears and forehead while trying to resist the temptation to wipe the dust off of the panes, so as to allow more light into the room.

After making sure the door was secure behind them, Mar ordered her to come along with him. Behind the counter was a door which opened to a set of stairs. Up the stairs they went, and found an abandoned living area up there. Pausing at a cabinet, Mar took out a bottle of liquor from a surprisingly well-stocked cabinet, as well as some rolls of bandages from another shelf. Merilda was surprised, watching him gather these supplies. She had no idea why such things were here in a candle-making place, nor who would have left them there. It actually looked like someone kept the place well stocked of such things, but why?

They continued toward a front room, which was probably the room where a family would have gathered for the evening, to spend time together. Now, however, there was only a simple table with four chairs around it. A deck of cards rested on the windowsill, along with stacks of checker pieces and some dice and other things of that sort. It seemed as if there were a few options for games to be played, as if to allow someone ways to pass the time. She thought that a little bit odd, and wondered who these were for. Before she could think any more about it, however, Mar shoved the bottle and a roll of bandages at her and ordered her to tend to his arms. She didn’t really know what else to do; who was she to question the orders of her liege?


It seemed that, while he seemed to delight in dishing out pain to others, he did not take it very well, himself. While Merilda cowered down, sniffling and holding the side of her face after being struck, she was alarmed to notice several men burst into the room bearing weapons. She gasped and looked up, wide-eyed as she sat up swiftly in surprise. She had not heard them ascending the rickety old stairs. Were they guards, coming to help her? One of them was dressed as a guard, and she almost dared to hope for a second, until that hope was snatched away.

“Nâluthor?” Dev spoke in surprise, stepping in front of the group. He had not expected to find the temple acolyte here, at the Chandlery. He waved to the other men in a ‘stand down’ sort of fashion.

“Ah, Dev.” Mar replied, actually pleased to see him here. “Good to see you.” He remarked with a little smirk. He had not reacted with startlement when they entered, but had merely looked up as if he'd almost been expecting the intrusion.

Merilda’s spirits sank yet again, and she wished for the thousandth time that she had stayed at the castle and continued to tend to Aderic. She really couldn’t see how any of this was helping him at all. She looked at these new men hesitantly, wondering who they might be, and how Mar knew them. They looked scary, and none of them looked very nice.

“The lookout told me a couple had sneaked in,” Dev smirked and glanced at the guy dressed as a guard. “Seems like you might have investigated a bit more, before raising the alarm.” He told the guy with an eyeroll. He folded his arms as he looked at the scene before him. Mar’s arm had apparently been chewed up pretty badly, by a dog, if he was right. He had it resting on the table, and it seemed as if the girl, who now sat on the floor, had been bandaging it before she.. fell? Doubtful. More likely, was knocked to the floor, judging by the red mark on her face. “Looks like you need a proper healer.” Dev commented, returning his gaze to Mar.

“Well, yes, that would be preferable than this..” Mar motioned to the girl, and followed with a word in some other language that Merilda didn’t understand, although if she had understood, she would have known that it was a language of Umbar, and that it was an insulting way to reference a female.

“What.. exactly are you doing here?” Dev wondered, tilting his head.

“Well,” Mar made an effort to pull out of his ill-temper. “Looking for passage to Lond Col, at the moment. But I needed to get this bandaged, first. In fact,” He paused, looking at Dev, and at his men. “I wouldn’t mind a favor, if you would give it.”

Dev smiled in a not-so-pleasant way. “I don’t do favors, Nâluthor.”

“It’s for Pharak.” Mar told him, narrowing his eyes. “I’m sure you’d want to stay on his good side, wouldn’t you?”

Dev’s smile faded, but wasn’t quite a frown. More of a neutral expression as he folded his arms. “I’m listening.”

Mar swiftly debated how much he wanted to tell the pirate. “Firstly, I need to get a message to him. Quickly.” He explained. “But also..” he paused, thinking. “I want to make some arrangements for a couple of rangers to become a..guest.. of Pharak’s.” He raised an eyebrow. “Interested?”

Dev tilted his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps. Why don’t you manage it yourself? Like you did before, with Unalmis?”

Mar smiled, though he didn't correct the man in the fact that that incident was mainly Pharak's doing. “Oh, I would. Believe me, I’d love to be able to handle this personally. But.. I have somewhere else I need to be, as soon as possible. Oh, and.. speaking of Unalmis, he may very well be one of the ones to come here.” He added. “I’m hoping, at least.”

Dev rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering this. Unalmis meant a lot to Trevadir, he recalled. As far as he knew, they were still friends, despite all of Dev's efforts to turn the boy against his friend and forget him. Perhaps.. he could use that somehow. “Well, perhaps we can work something out. But it’ll cost you.” He warned. He was well aware of the fortune that Mar had managed to take over for himself. Why not get a little of that for himself?

Mar refrained from rolling his eyes. He had plenty of money, but didn’t like having to part with it if he didn’t have to. “What do you want?”

---

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd - several hours later
Harlond - At the Chandlery

Listening quietly, Duinion thought over all of what the others said. He privately agreed with Sarina's thoughts, about how she would prefer to keep distance and provide backup. Mainly, he preferred being able to use his bow. But he also agreed with her conclusion; they couldn't just shoot people randomly, and they also couldn't do much from out here if the threat was inside. And they couldn't really find out what the threat was, exactly, until they got inside.

He considered Vorondil's words, too. If there was a trap set up inside, he hoped he would be able to spot it, but there was always the chance he might not. But the lieutenant had made an excellent point about the fact they were expected, and they were likely expected to act rashly. If anyone was waiting inside.. and he had a hunch there were.. then they probably would be expecting him to be coming, demanding his daughter, or at least half-panicked, seeking for any trace of her. They wouldn't know that they had already found Eryn, and that she was safe.

He nodded slightly to the lieutenant when she asked his opinion. "I agree. Though, I'd like to a check of the property, and find out how many entry points there might be," He added thoughtfully, frowning. "If there's a back door, for instance, or a side door.. I think I'd feel better entering a less likely door than the front one, since that's probably where they're expecting us, don't you think?" He suggested, and glanced at the building.

"Besides, if we get involved in a fight, and there are doorways we haven't secured, the enemy might manage to surprise us somehow in an unfavorable way. Suppose they slip out and bring in reinforcements that are waiting somewhere nearby.. or someone could simply escape if the fight seems to be going our way, or.. whatever." He shrugged, unsure what exactly to expect. "But, I will follow your lead," he concluded quietly, still looking at the lieutenant.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

Abrazimir could see that at first, he was losing the interest of the Lieutenant, though it seemed the offer of utilizing a crashed merchantman might be preferable to a battleship. The pirate was a greedy one and if there was anything Abrazimir knew was a constant in this world, it was trusting in the self-interests of individuals. A pirate was going to do what a pirate does. Looting and pillaging. That was something they might prey on.

He had a few ideas of what cargo they might employ, both materialistic…and sentient. But he would have to speak with them first.

The Lieutenant had her own plan about how to get word out. A counter-intelligence operation, right here in Harlond! Abrazimir had to smile approvingly at that. It was no small thing to reveal, even to an ally and comrade, and he appreciated Lieutenant Dealedwen’s trust in him. ”We’ll ruin more than just his teeth.” He promised in the elven tongue. ”Though, I ask that you give me another cycle to lay out my preparations – with diligence. Let me check back with my people on what may be risked for such a scheme and I will once more report to you here, in person. No letters or written correspondence, for obvious reasons. You think that can be done? I believe I have an idea, on how to increase the value of the cargo we might present for our query.”

Abrazimir knew it was not materialistic goods or trinkets that most enticed the pirate Thormaetha. No, it was certain persons that did so. So much so that the pirate risked even coming to Abrazimir’s home to lay claim to this prize, risking all the dangers possible in the home base of the Dimaethor power. If Thormaetha might be that bold, then the bait they would lay out must surely be appealing. Abrazimir had two names in mind, but he would have to persuade them, either both or one of them. At great personal risk to themselves as well. He didn’t want to tell the Lieutenant this, in case he couldn’t get dedication and commitment from these individuals though.

But treasures and precious cargo would have to do, if not.

”By this time next year, we should have the vulture in chains. Or better.” Abrazimir mused with some hope and optimism. In another month or less, he could have his bait prepared and ready to spring the trap, at the Lieutenant’s command. Hopefully done by next spring, they could then conduct their ocean-going exercising and training during the summer or the following cold months. Within the decade, they could be taking the war to their enemies instead of fighting it on their soil. The seeds lain this day were proving to be his most favourite.

”What else needs to be done?” He asked the Lieutenant, once more standing tall and at full attention, ready to serve and be useful.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

"Agreed, as well," she said matter-of-factly when Duinion was done speaking. "We'll need a place for the horses," she said, looking around thoughtfully. "If we're not using one of Harlond's official stables, we can secure them somewhere in the street. But that might cause people to get confused and try to take them to such a place," Arnyn knew. "We might take longer in there than we think."

Sarina tsk'ed. "I'm not staying behind with them again," she announced.

"No, you're not," the Lieutenant confirmed. "There is a stable, owned by an inn, around the corner. We will settle them in there." It was kind of annoying that she hadn't thought of that earlier, but it was too late now. Once the horses were stabled, they returned to the street of the chandlery. Arnyn eyed the fence and the building. From the way the stones were jutting out in several places, she could probably climb the building itself. But getting over the fence with the others would be best. She wasn't about to change her mind about them sticking together. "Who needs a push?" she asked, tilting her head toward the fence.

---

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

"I think that is all, for now," she replied, noting the way the knight was standing at attention. "Is it not enough, Lord Dimaethor?" she asked with a tilt to her lips which displayed her amusement at her question - despite the topic. For they had not discussed small matters. Preparations and plans to ensnare pirates. Training in order not to present an easy target if they were boarded on the way to Umbar or in the harbour... Actually going to Umbar with joined forces, using what they could of Abrazimir's trophies. To put an end to the Halsads. To put an end to the danger Umbar posed to the shores of Gondor.

"We will have to meet again, then," she recalled earlier statements to that effect. "Will midwinter draw you to the White City?" she asked. "It might be best if we utilize at least one unrelated occasion to meet. If you and your family were planning on attending midwinter festivities in Minas Tirith, no one interested enough to watch out for more meetings between us would be the wiser," she explained her reasoning. "We could simply meet then. You could relay your own progress, and I could relay mine."

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

They had plotted and planned enough, as much as could be done with what little they had or knew. And who knows how solid it would remain, possibly falling apart or getting into contingencies the moment it came into play with the enemy involved. Abrazimir nodded and remained in a rigid position of attention, hands folded behind his back and shoulders squared, eyeing the Lieutenant back as she mused over another time to meet later in the season.

”They will have plans now.” He said about his family possibly coming for midwinter festivities in Minas Tirith. They usually made a journey in the summers, since the War ended. Never during the cold months. He should be able to harangue one or two of them into making an appearance and they could use that as cover for his and the Lieutenant’s more clandestine arrangements of this forthcoming operation.

”In the meanwhile, I will check on what we discussed. First, I will sail to where we scuttled the Corsair vessel, see if anything can be scavenged for our mission. And secondly, I will make the arrangements for a precious cargo to be prepared for our trap.” He reiterated, to ensure he was on the same page as her. Afterwards, they could discuss preparation for their ocean-farthing training mission, teaching her Rangers how to conduct sea-borne military operations.

”You still require these? My men can move and deliver these items wherever you need them.” He then gestured to the trophies he had brought, the Umbarin banner and the armour, as well as the great head of the battering ram, which the men would be all too glad to get rid of.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Harlond - Autumn

The hint of a smile touched her face at the sentence 'They will have plans now.'

She nodded at the knight's summary of the taks that awaited him. "And for my part, I will update the Captain and the King. As well as petition the Rangers to see who will risk joining us in these endeavours." As Abrazimir drew her attention to what had been arrayed on the deck below, Arnyn's expression grew more serious. More thoughtful. "The armour will be useful. As well as the banner. If we are to disguise ourselves as corsairs at some point, we will all need the appropriate armour." Her business-like gaze returned to the man at her side. "I will make the necessary arrangements to ensure that. Will your sailor-warriors be needing the same?" she inquired. "If so, I shall see it done." Even if she might have to petition the King for the required budget.

Her gaze returned to the head of the battering ram. "While I would imagine your men would like to be rid of... that," she said slowly, nodding toward the ram, "I can think of no practical use for it as of now. However, I could take it off your hands if you would prefer to... unload it. As a sign of gratitude for your cooperation."

Turning toward the knight, Arnyn briefly put a gloved hand on his arm. "Tol alagos, Abrazimir," she said quietly. (A wind-storm is coming.) In reference to what lay ahead.

Her hand soon fell away again so she might clasp her hands behind her back, as he had. Quite an unexpected smile mastered her features next. However, none of them would have to face it alone. "Ach lacho calad. Ar drego morn." (But may light flare. And may darkness flee.)

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

It didn't take long before the horses were stowed in a stable, and the rangers reconvened outside the chandlery. Duinion gazed at the place thoughtfully. There was an upper floor, but the windows were dark. Was there someone up there? It was difficult to tell from the street, with the sun shining at it. He wasn't happy about that; he would have rather been able to see whether anyone was watching them from the window.

Over the fence it was, then. Duinion considered the lieutenant's question, hesitating. He could normally climb a fence like that without any trouble. But with his ankle bothering him... he inwardly debated. "We'll see," He decided after a moment's thought. In fact, looking at the fence, he had to wonder.. "Hang on a moment," He suggested, to stall the others' attempts at climbing. Moving along the fence, he tested the boards carefully until, several yards from where they would have climbed over, he felt where one of the boards was loose. He tried the one next to it, and found that the nails had rusted or something, enough that it pulled away easily. With two boards loose, next to one another, this provided a gap that even the largest of their group could squeeze through. With a little smile, he waved the others to come. "It seems they have not maintained the property too well," He mentioned, somewhat pleased about this.

Soon, they were all inside the fence. The grass was grown up high in the yard. Absently, he hoped there weren't any ticks or other pests lurking in the tall grass, but at least they all had long pants and boots to cover their legs. The yard wasn't very large, however, and the back wall of the building was only a couple of yards from the edge of the cliff. There was no back door, but there was a window there, offering a view of the sea in the distance to anyone who may be inside. Originally, it was probably meant for the customers and employees of the chandlery to have light during the daytime hours. This was not boarded up, though it was dusty and covered in grime.

Coming to the edge of the window, Duinion paused and pressed his back against the wall beside it, then slowly inched his head around, trying to cautiously peer through the window to see what he could make out, inside. He was fairly sure he could see a few figures moving around, but he didn't dare linger too long looking in. With the afternoon drawing toward evening, the sun would soon be shining in through the window, and he feared he may cast a shadow that would draw their attention to him.

He turned and sought the lieutenant's gaze. "People inside," He spoke so softly it would be easy to miss, if she was not listening closely. He held up four fingers to indicate he'd counted at least four, then added the fifth with an uncertain shrug. He hadn't gotten a long enough look, and the window was too dirty to see well. He waited for her to indicate what they ought to do next. They still had the other half of the building's outer perimeter to investigate.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Commanding the Bregolalph, docking at Harlond for an important meeting.
Autumn months, Fourth Age, after the joust in Lond Côl

The armour and the banner could be made useful, to that Abrazimir nodded. As for the ram, well…the Rangers didn’t have any battleships, so what use would it do? Maybe it could be melted down, made into something useful for the betterment of the Realm. Or, being woven with spells of evil and ruin, it should just be forgotten. Buried or sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Not even worthwhile as a war trophy.

”My mariners will make do with what we have. As for the ram…it can be unloaded. Present it to the King even, say it is a gift from my father and House Dimaethor, as a token of our loyalty and desire to do service by Him.” Abrazimir said, though it was probably a far shot. But if the King really be Captain Thorongil of old, then He might recall the name Dimaethor, as Abrazimir’s father as a young man had been on that courageous expedition to Umbar, back in the year twenty-nine eighty of the Third Age. But it was a long, long shot of that happening.

The Lieutenant beckoned a farewell, touching his arm briefly while citing a forboding of what was to come. Darkness was always present, but wind and light would drive away the evil airs. Abrazimir nodded, having believed in such things since the day he was born. ”Farewell, Lieutenant. May the stars light our path to a better future.” He nodded back, taking a step backwards as well to give her a bow out of courtesy and respect to her rank and status. Many of the mariners about, seeing the Lieutenant about to depart, paused in their tasks to bow as well, in salute to the rank.

The day has finally come, when Gondor might finally begin to defend itself against the ancient enemies who plagued them for centuries. Abrazimir could not wait to behold the newfound peace they would make.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem – Part 35



Unalmis Raxëlilta. The last day of Autumn (last year)
In the Guardhouse of the South Gate. With Cadil.

A knife was a most useful tool for many many purposes, but this was clearly not what it had been designed for. Unalmis though had little else to do and so it might have been stubborn determination as much as any sort of skill which eventually accomplished his goal. Stabbing and splitting the wooden shelf around the nail slowly was weakening the planting of the thing and, with enough time, the young man was able to twist the metal in it’s loosened anchor and eventually ease it free.

“Looks like a coffin nail,” he remarked, turning the sliver of iron in one hand. Why the Guard would have elected to use such a thing he had no idea. Perhaps it had simply been the only type at hand when they needed one. “I’ve heard stories that they can be used for dark sorcery, if took from an actual occupied grave that is. I don’t think it counts if it was only wedged into a shelf.”


Whether the thing was an instrument of dark sorcery or no, Unalmis tapped Cadil on the shoulder and presented his meagre prize. “Do you think it will work ?” he asked, with no conception at all how one went about picking a lock. “If I have to work this knife through the whole door else, it is going to take us years.”

The prospect was not exactly cheering. “Better than a belt buckle pin, anyway,” he shrugged and handed over the nail. It was certainly longer, and stronger. Though perhaps a more slender piece of metal would be better for such a delicate operation. Cadil had said he was not exactly ‘proficient’ in picking locks. But what choice did they have exactly ? There had been a time when even a belt buckle pin had seemed like a source of potential, when Nal had possessed no other ‘tool’. How he had managed to lose it, in so small a place he still could not quite fathom. Except that there’d been little space to even conduct a search once it had slipped from numbed fingers. Not this time. This nail was far more hardy. It was going to work. It had to.


But that was up to his friend now. And so Nal’s thoughts turned toward what his friend had been able to identify, of what was outside the gatehouse. Besides an Umbarian and an Ass.

Barrels, Cadil had said, on the back of a wagon. And if they were visible from their small window then likely it was an open-backed wagon. So, even if they did not get out of here until after Arkadhur had gone .. wherever he was going .. then they could look out for an open backed wagon, with barrels. Maybe if whatever was in those barrels was heavy enough, then there would be a good trail rent into the path. In fact if the cargo were very heavy, then they might be able to catch the Umbarian up ..


“You said the Guard is inspecting the barrels ? Maybe we shall soon see what is in them ..” he recalled, prompting a hope that Cadil was better placed to see if anything was drawn from them. He hated to keep bothering his ally, but with the other young man working at the door, the Ranger was restricted from a fair view through the window. There were just the walls on either side. Slowly he sat back down onto the chair. ‘Apples or wine’, Cadil had guessed then, of the barrels. Nal’s glance fell back toward the log book that was now simply on the shelf, no longer hung by that string from the nail.

“Maybe an escaped Umbarian prisoner ?” he wondered aloud as the thought occurred to him. The book had stated after all for Guards to be on the look out for a woman Umbarian prisoner who had escaped the dungeon just last night. And here was a known Umbarian taking barrels out of the Pelennor ? Brown eyes narrowed. It would certainly explain what Arkadhur was doing in town. And it certainly made the young Ranger ever more keen to hamper whatever it was that the man was up to.


Maybe the Guard would find the escaped woman, and arrest both of the Umbarians. Then he’d have to let the others out of the gatehouse ! There was certainly no room for four in here ! And the Guard himself was clearly shortstaffed because of the autumn festival. There were usually two guards at each gate. 'Rip' had insisted that Unalmis and Cadil were forbidden from leaving through the South Gate. But perhaps .. perhaps they could convince him to let them out, and run back for reinforcements from the city. It would mean an end to any thoughts of their day out in Harlond. But if it meant putting not one but two Umbarians behind bars ? It would be worth it ! Even if it left 'Rip' looking like the hero of the day ...

The only problem was of course, that 'Rip' was the only Guard out there, conducting the search. The same fly in the ointment who had decided to confine them just because he was bored, probably. And an ass. If it had been any other guard at hand except for ‘Rip’, then the discovery of an escaped enemy in those barrels would have solved everything. Of course, if it had been any guard at hand except for ‘Rip’, then the two of them would not have likely ended up locked in a gatehouse to begin with ! Nal could certainly not pin any sort of hope on this guard. Of course, there may only be apples and wine in the barrels anyway. But why .. and what else would Arkadhur be doing here ? Now ? An Umbarian in Minas Tirith, just after another Umbarian had escaped the city dungeon ? He had to be messed up in that somehow !


“How is that lock coming, Cadil” he asked, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt. It was taking a time. Was that normal to take this long ? Maybe he should not have kept distracting Cadil. Maybe the nail was not as much use as they had hoped. But what else did they have ?

Sandwiches, his friend had brought, and rope. Nal had only a knife and an empty water flask. There was no cause to carry a hundred things when you could nearly always fashion what you needed out of what you had to hand. That’s what he’d been taught. So what else was at hand ?


The logbook. Idly tearing blank pages of parchment off the hard-wood backing that they were bound to, he picked up the ink and quill at hand and decided to write down his own ‘observations’ for the Guards.

‘Trouble. At the South Gate. Send Guard reinforcements.’

And then as an afterthought he added, ‘URGENT’ in all capital letters.


Squinting to read the message it looked as though it was legible, and so he laid the page out on the shelf and repeated the motion. Until he had no less than eight pieces of parchment with an identical message. Fanning them each carefully in one hand, he blew over the fresh ink and took a moment to ask for whatever help the Valar might offer those who do their best with all they have to hand.

“There’s a really thin gap at the bottom of the door,” he remarked, recalling the dash of light there, to Cadil, and then offered up the pieces of parchment. “Don’t fold them, but see if you can slip these underneath and out. If we are lucky some breeze may take them. At the very least, and even if ‘Rip’ sees them, he won’t know what is written on them and will have to catch them all to find out.”


Maybe one of the messages would manage to get them some help. Unalmis had ink now on one hand, of course. In the dim light it looked like blood. He shook the thought out of his head, and crushed both sets of fingers together. Loath to bother Cadil from his own efforts yet again. If the Guard did not come back furiously to their door, then the young man armed with only a coffin nail would have to work his own sort of sorcery to get them out.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem – Part 36



Arkadhur / ”Lowendir” . Undergoing an inspection of his ‘Goods’
Outside the South Gate, with ‘Lieutenant’ Ademar

The Guard’s tone was friendly, although he did make a mention of ‘yesterday evening’, and the both of them knew what had happened then. Arkadhur had not been present in the dungeon of course, but he’d caught up with the real Lowendir afterwards. He’d learnt the truth and then made certain that the actor did not share that truth with anybody else. But the dead could rest assured that, just as he’d once proclaimed as his ambition, the name ‘Lowendir’ would be remembered. The Umbarian would make good sure of that.

Ademar was evidently intrigued, albeit that he was playing the role of sentry with almost as much gusto as the now dead performer had his role. Arkadhur raised a lone eyebrow of his own to hear the man call him ‘sir’. It was meant with not even a modicum of respect, he was not fool to believe otherwise. Still, he enjoyed hearing it, from this fool.


“But of course,” the Umbarian made way so that the Guard could go about his planned inspection. “It’s a good thing, you checking,” his accent had changed. No longer Umbarian, or Belfalasian. The liar sounded almost as native to Minas Tirith as the man before him. “I heard tales,” he confided in the Guardsman, “Whilst waiting in the queue. About folks stealing away into wagons and having themselves an easy ride through the gate.” The tall man smiled. “People posing as cargo ? I wouldn’t want to be thought of anyway involved in anything like that.”

And now if the man intended to throw him to the lions, upon finding what was in his barrels, there was plainly stated what Arkadhur meant to, and could, claim in his defence.


“But what is it they say ? One man’s rubbish is another man’s treasure. An event like this, means that a means of disposing of the mess made is .. essential. My cargo is the waste of the festival,” he lied easily. “Can’t be discarding waste all over the Pelennor after all. I suppose some of it may have technically spoiled. But you go ahead, sir. Take a good long look, up close like. Knock yourself out.”

It had to be said that this last suggestion was made with an undercurrent of sincerity tied to it. Though none other than the knowledgeable Guard would ever guess so from the friendly timbre of the Umbarian’s voice.

[Arnyn]

Little Jewel
Somewhere out on the Pelennor - years ago

Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. Her clothes were wet from the rain. The cold was seeping in through her leathers.

But she had to learn. Maren had told her that she had to get through this, in order to live. She would have to steel herself, make herself forget she felt like she was freezing. Was it pain, or discomfort? Perhaps she could convince herself it was the latter.

She had been tasked with her first... well, assignment would not be the correct term. She had performed assignments before. A shiver ran down her spine as she swallowed, seated against the brick wall of an outbuilding to a farmstead. Not that assignments were preferable. Those... those had begun a few years ago. Where, at first, she had thought her guardian had turned her into his personal plaything, she had been mistaken. And Jewel was not sure what or whom she preferred. None of them were exactly gentle with her.

But now... Apparently, the age of sixteen was some sort of rite of passage. This time, she had been given a challenge, and a contract. She had to prove herself worthy of being admitted to the Hand's organisation. He had not given her a choice. As his ward, he had said, she had to be more than a 'companion'. She had to be strong. Lethal. It would help her, he had promised. It would help her navigate her other assignments. And in case any clients would prove dangerous, she would be able to handle herself - and handle them.

Being away from genuine warmth and affection for so long, even that warped way of caring about what might happen to her was enough. Enough to touch her. Enough to make her think he really did care for her.

While she had been training for this under the guidance of several agents, Jewel still found the reality to be much more taxing than any exercise she had been given before this. Her body was not strong enough, she now knew. She would have to train harder if she was going to have to do things like this. Even if it would only be once or twice a year. That, at least, he had promised.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Forcing herself to take a back seat after asking her question, Arnyn waited for the others to take point. Duinion asked for a moment, and as the other three waited he found a loose board in the fence. It didn't take long before he had created a hole for them all to step through. Careful not to rip anything on any rough-edged wood or possible nails sticking out, the Lieutenant slipped through as the last one of their little squad. When Duinion commented that whoever was managing the property hadn't conducted proper maintenance, Arnyn hummed a short note of agreement. "We might be able to use that more than you already just did." Lowering a hand into the tall grass, she looked at the others. "The tall grass can be a last hiding result, if need be." Not that she thought it would be necessary to remind rangers of something so basic.

They did not come across any entry points on their way to the back of the building. With a frown, she noted the cliff's edge nearby. If this place was used for smuggling, as Trevadir had told her... then they had to have a way down to the water. Clearly, there was no route here. While Duinion was trying to check the window, the Lieutenant's frown deepened as the wheels of her mind turned. It would be impractical, really, lowering stuff down that far. No. They would need another way to get smuggled goods - and people - from the building down to the river. And if this location had proved so successful, they would not have taken to the streets. If she had to make an educated guess... there was a tunnel of sorts between the building and the river. The smuggling route would be underground.

Duinion’s whispered words barely reached her, but they drew her gaze. His hand signal was easy enough to interpret. Four, maybe five people inside. That he had seen. The weight of his unspoken question hung in the air. Sarina and Vorondil were also looking her way. Well, alright then. "Duinion, you stay here and keep an eye on that window. If they move, I need to know immediately." She looked at Vorondil and Sarina. "The three of us are checking the remaining perimeter for any other entry points."

As they moved around the building, the tall grass whispered against their boots, muffling their steps. Every sense was on high alert as the other side of the building was inspected and no other door was to be found. The three moved back to Duinion's location. "No change?" Arnyn asked him, her voice barely above a whisper. When he shook his head, she nodded. "No back door," she informed him. "So we take the front. I don't suppose it will be open. Can anyone think of a feasible distraction that will actually keep them distracted if we need to force our way in through the front?"

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem

Ademar Androllius (wearing uniform of Lt. of the Guard)
Pelennor - Southern Gate - Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)
With Arkadhur

They could play at this game all day, he knew. And the folks behind Arkadhur were getting impatient. He, too, was growing ever more curious what the man had stashed in the barrels. His words, providing himself an 'out' in case Mar should turn out to be his brother, nearly brought a smile. He managed to refrain, however, and kept his amusement to himself. So, there was someone in there, if he was understanding Arkadhur's hinting properly. His interest was piqued, and so, suppressing an eyeroll at the man's evident hope that he 'knock himself out'.. literally.. the false guard ventured toward the nearest of the barrels.

The first proved to be empty, as he had suspected. Except for some stagnant water which smelled awful. Knowing the protocol for the guard logs required him to write down what he'd found whenever a search was performed, he carried a notepad along so that he could fill it out appropriately. He had to make a good showing of actually looking into every barrel, after all, especially knowing who might be watching. When he reached the first one that was not empty, one which the man had previously knocked upon, he couldn't help letting his gaze stray toward Arkadhur as he unlatched the lid. Quietly, he watched to see whether he might object to him looking inside.

Raising the lid just enough to take a peek at the contents, Mar was hard-pressed not to react in any way upon recognizing the unconscious, dark haired young woman crammed inside. Tear stains streaked her otherwise pale face. He blinked, put the lid back on, and drew in a breath slowly as he forced himself to carefully maintain the same composure as he had with the other barrels. "One barrel full of bones," He commented as if reporting what he'd found inside, speaking mostly to himself in a 'bored' tone. He latched the lid down again. The next was empty. But the one after that doubled his inner glee, making it so difficult not to smile that he put the lid down and covered his nose and mouth with the hand holding his notepad, coughing as if he had encountered a bad smell(Well, it did smell, but that was easily ignored), when in fact, it was a ruse to recover himself from the excitement that surged through him. "And a barrel full of useless, wet coal."

"Trash indeed," He commented as he turned to Arkadhur, struggling to keep a smile at bay. He shrugged as he finished his inspection, and wrote down the number of barrels, reporting that they all contained trash. "I suppose some people may find these things valuable, however." He seemed to agree with Arkadhur's words about one man's trash being another's treasure. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to come back later and haul off some of our trash as well?" He asked with a lightly jesting tone, referring to the gatehouse. "You wouldn't believe the sort of useless junk that ends up in there. Although, to someone, it could be valuable.. if one's willing to sacrifice a bit of time and effort to collect it, and find a use for it. Who knows.. might even be worth more than this trash you've got here." He glanced at the barrels of 'bones' and 'coal'. "Then again, depends on what a person's in the market for, I suppose." With a little smile and shrug, he hopped down from the wagon.

"Well, I see no reason to keep you." He declared. "Everything looks to be in order. Good luck with your.. recycling project." Opening the gate to allow him through, he added one last comment. "Unless you've got some candles aboard that wagon, you'd better get on your way, before it gets dark." With that said, he waved him through, waiting until he had passed through the gate before turning to the next group in line. He still had several hours left of his shift, but he was quite happy now. It seemed this day couldn't get any better for him.

---

Carpe Diem - Barrels into Bond

Calithildis Dringolben
Quite uncomfortable in her barrel
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Voices. Cali felt as if she were drifting in and out of a daze. Sometimes, they seemed further away, sometimes closer. But it wasn't just the kidnapper's voice she was hearing. And it wasn't just his voice that was distressing her. It was the other voice that kept persisting nearby. Rip. She struggled to focus, trying to keep alert. What was he doing here? What was he saying? Why was he talking to the kidnapper?

The wagon dipped slightly, as if someone had climbed onto the back of it. Cali realized that it had come to a stop. She rested her head against the inside of the barrel wall, trying to breathe slowly. It was stifling in here, and she wanted to call out and beg for someone to rescue her. The gag in her mouth was not the only thing that kept her from dong so, however. She remembered the threat he had made against Iole.

"Barrel full of bones,"

The words reached her as if through time. Her mind drifted slightly into one of many incidents in the playground.

"Look at the skinny bag of bones," The boy laughed as he pushed Iole so that she fell down into a puddle. "Too weak to even stay standing, aren't you, Bones?" He taunted her as her eyes welled up with tears.

"Leave her alone!" Cali demanded as she abandoned her nearby hiding spot and rushed to her friend's defense. Forget hide and seek for now. She wasn't sure where the boys had gotten off to when Iole began counting, but she wasn't about to let this bully pick on her friend. Not if she could help it.

"And what're you gonna do.. Coal-i?" He smirked as he rounded on her, employing a different pronounciation of her name to ridicule her for the fact she often hung around her father's forge, and got soot on her from the coal that he used. "Oh, you aren't going to put some of your soot on me, are you? I'm sooo scared." He put his hands up in mock terror, as if to ward off an attack.

Cali quickly debated calling for her brother, and the other boys, to come to their rescue. But why call them over when she was sure she could handle this herself? Almost without thinking, she brought her foot up and kicked.

Rip yelped in pain as he took the impact in the one place he had not been 'shielding'. By raising his hands, he had left his lower regions undefended..

As Rip curled up on the ground, whimpering slightly, Cali stuck out her tongue as she walked around him and went to help Iole up. "Don't listen to him," She told her friend, frowning over at him as she put her arms around Iole. "You're perfect just the way you are, Iole." Smiling, she suggested a productive activity to distract her from the bully's mean words. "Let's go to the fountain and get that mud cleaned off of you, and then we'll go find the boys, together."


The memory flashed through her mind in the space of a couple seconds. She'd been.. maybe nine? Ten? Still.. the creep had called Iole 'bones' and 'wraith' for years, even after they were grown and should have moved past such childish habits.

"And a barrel full of useless, wet coal."

He had also maintained his 'name' for Cali, all those years. She blinked against the brightness that had flooded her barrel for the briefest of seconds. It had been too fast, and too bright, for her to look up and try to see who had lifted the lid, but she knew it was him; Rip. It had to be him, for who else would it have been? He wouldn't have said that about the coal if he hadn't noticed her stuffed into the barrel. Right? Still, she was a bit stunned by that. While she couldn't actually see herself to know how she looked at the moment, she knew there was no possible way she looked like she was here by choice. Cali almost couldn't believe that even Rip would be so awful as to actually look into the barrel, see her tied up in there, and simply.. put the lid back on and go on chatting merrily with the kidnapper. He was a guard, for crying out loud!

It wasn't long before they were moving again. Cali felt her anxiety rising. He was just letting the man go!? She had come to the realization that they must be at one of the gate checkpoints. That's what that had been about; the wagon had been searched, right? And now, he was getting through. Some good the search did. No one except Rip knew that the kidnapper was smuggling her and Iole out of the Pelennor, and all he was worried about was whether he could get the guy to take away some of his own trash? Cali thought swiftly, trying to figure out what she could do. She couldn't simply sit here and wait for whatever would happen. She had to let someone know that they were in here! Maybe... if she could do some sort of signal? Make a noise... No, she couldn't make any noises, the kidnapper would hear. And he had threatened her about that. So, what could she do to get someone's attention? His threats would be voided if someone could rescue them, but how could she let anyone know that there were people in the barrels, without the kidnapper realizing?

'Think, Cali,' She told herself frantically. Her arm was throbbing. She felt weak and shaky. The wagon jostled as it rolled out through the gate. She had to hurry, or they'd be on the road, moving further away from the people clustered at the gate: too far for anyone to see anything. She struggled to muffle a cry of pain as the wagon's wheel hit a pothole, jostling her sharply into the barrel's side. But as it did, the lid bounced slightly up. Cali blinked, briefly blinded by the bright light that flooded her small space, and then she looked up at it. A slim wedge of light remained between the rim of the barrel, and its lid. Had they forgotten to latch it? Was she to have a bit of luck, after all?

Trying to stand up was out of the question. She was cramped up in here, and she would have needed both hands to reach up to either side, and pull herself out of the barrel. In fact, she felt a bit stuck in here, and doubted she could have gotten out of here on her own even if her arm wasn't damaged. As she tried to think of how she could make use of this opportunity, the sunlight glinted lightly off of the object she held in her hands. Turning her brown gaze downward, she stared at the small pin that her brother had made for her, so many years ago. It was one of her most cherished possessions. It was also the only thing she had which might stand a chance at alerting people that someone was in here. She bit down on the gag, taking a slow breath to brace herself, because she knew this was going to hurt: both physically and emotionally. Painstakingly, she raised her bound arms up until she found the lid of the barrel. Her arm was in agony, but she persisted. The lid bounced up slightly, then came back down and struck her joined hands. A muffled cry escaped her at the pain this brought her. She tried again, breathing in gasps now. She got the lid moved!

Wishing she could see what was around her, and where she was aiming, Cali sent up a prayer to any Valar that might care enough to help her and make it land in a place where the right person would find it. Then with a flick of her good wrist, she sent the pin off into oblivion, hoping against all odds that it would somehow bring them salvation. As the pin spun into the air and hit the tail of the wagon, bouncing off onto the side of the road, Cali let her arms rest down in her lap again. One of them was, indeed, streaked with blood; she could see that now. Her breathing was a bit ragged. Her eyes drifted closed as she let her head hang, lolling limply against the side of the barrel. She was as good as unconscious for a good while after that, while wave after wave of intense pain shot through her arm. 'Please, someone find that. Someone who will help.' She thought dimly as the wagon continued along the road, taking her and Iole further and further from any hope of safety.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

With a brief nod, Duinion agreed to the lieutenant's words. Whether it was a command or suggestion, he remained where he was and kept an eye on the window. He was thinking the whole time that the other three were gone. The men he could see inside were not moving much. They seemed to be bored, some pacing around, others leaning against the counter, chatting. He could not hear any of what was said, but it was evident that they were waiting. Waiting for them, he assumed.

When the lieutenant returned, he shook his head in reply to her question. Moving back slightly from the window, he whispered, "It looks like they're waiting. And I thought I saw one of them saying something to someone out of my line of sight, so there are probably more."

He nodded at the news that there was no back door. So that left them very few options. So, a distraction would be needed. "I've thought of a few options," Duinion mentioned, listing each idea that had occurred to him. Without knowing for certain how many of the enemy were waiting inside, they did not like the possibility of getting outnumbered and cornered inside the building. The possibility of getting outnumbered and surrounded was also present with drawing them outside, but there would be more space, and bows would be more easily managed, as would longswords and such. After a bit of debate among the four, it was agreed that it would be best if they could manage to draw a few of the men out so they could take out a few before the others became wise to the ranger's presence. Still without killing, if possible.

Duinion and Sarina ducked down into the tall grass, doing the best they could to camouflage themselves with the stuff. Meanwhile, Arnyn and Vorondil moved into position on either side of the window, preparing to cause a diversion when all were ready. In fact, Duinion even wondered if their bows would be needed. It occurred to him that if the enemy came outside to investigate a noise, for instance, and came around the corner, either Arnyn or Vorondil might be better positioned to deal with them in a silent manner. But only time would tell how this was all going to work out.


(plans discussed in advance with Arnyn's writer)

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

At Arnyn's signal, Vorondil tapped the pommel of his sword against the outer wall right next to the window. Once. A pause. Then two more times, before another pause. And one more time after that. Arnyn gave him a nod, and they both waited and listened. They could not hear much of what was happening inside, and did not dare look through the window. With another signal, the Lieutenant indicated Vorondil to tap again, two times, then wait. They lowered themselves into the grass as well. Vorondil had his sword ready, but Arnyn had left all her weapons sheathed. Any bandits who would reach them, they would both try and immobilize them as quietly as possible.

Duinion and Sarina had been ordered to shoot whenever they thought necessary, and to avoid killing if at all possible. That did limit their options and made the choice to shoot or hold back a difficult balancing exercise. For if they were not shooting to kill, the bandits would probably make a lot of noise, to draw out more help from their own...

[Arnyn]

Little Jewel
Somewhere out on the Pelennor - years ago

It was done. One more secret, to add to the many. More images she wouldn't be able to blink away in the middle of night. Jewel swallowed, but she couldn't swallow the lump in her throat. She couldn't outrun him. She couldn't get away from him. She could either bend, or break.

What was the point in resisting? What was the point in rebelling? She remembered another girl who had tried, a few years ago. And that girl could rebel or resist no longer. She was gone. And so was her assignment - her target. Another had taken him out.

There was always another. The Hand always found another. Another target. But also another agent. The end result for the victim was always the same. But the girl - she might have lived. If she had complied.

Jewel intended to live. However twisted a life it might be. It was hers. And she wasn't about to give it up for nothing.

[Rillewen]

(The following few posts are a combination of efforts between Arnyn and Rillewen)

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

Strange tapping sounds caused their quiet chatting to pause. The men inside the chandlery glanced at one another, each wondering what that might have been. Just as they were about to shrug it off, the sound came again. And again. One man signaled to two others, silently motioning them to go outside and investigate. The idea was to check it out, stealthily, and report back what they had found. One man wore red and black, which more or less matched the clothing worn by more than half of the other men in the chandlery. He drew a scimitar. The other seemed to be dressed in whatever he happened to have come across that fit him; he pulled a hand ax from his belt and set off outside with the other. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the front of the yard, they split up, one went to the right, the other to the left, and they set off in silence to investigate toward the back, intending to meet at the middle where the window was.

The subtle and short bird call came from Sarina. Not that the bandits would notice. Arnyn nodded at Vorondil. They were coming. She could feel the adrenaline running through her, suffusing her as they waited in absolute silence. It felt as if the beating of her own heart was the loudest noise in her vicinity. Until she heard the steps of someone moving through the tall grass, from around the corner. Trying to judge how far away, or rather how close, this individual was getting, was difficult. Arnyn signalled Vorondil that she had one incoming. He signalled the same in return. Well. Alright then.

Looking at Vorondil, she raised her hand and counted down from five fingers to a fist. Then the two of them turned round the corner, immediately faced with the two strangers who’d been sent out of the chandlery. Arnyn was facing the man in red and black, with the scimitar, and she quickly moved into his guard to try and disarm him now she had the element of surprise still.

Vorondil engaged the man with the hand ax, using the additional range provided by his sword to keep the weapon at bay.

As he watched Arnyn engage with the fellow in red and black, Duinion prepped an arrow on his string, just in case. The enemy was clearly caught by surprise by the woman leaping in front of him, and he lost his sword, very quickly, from her disarming move, although he immediately lunged toward her in an attempt to grab her. He had a tattoo on his arm of a jackal, which was easily visible when he raised his arm to grab her.

At the sound of weapons clashing together, Duinion’s gaze darted from her to Vorondil, who was further away, and fighting with the other man. This fellow had swung his ax, which clashed against Vorondil’s sword as the ranger blocked. The noise made Duinion wince slightly, and he briefly debated inwardly whether to make use of his bow to end that fight more quickly, so as to keep this quieter. There were only two of the men… so far. But he knew that there were more of them inside, and he switched his gaze back toward the front of the building, watching for any more that might emerge.


Inside the building, the remaining men heard the sound of steel on steel. One moved to the window and tried to see what was happening, but he could see nothing. Meanwhile another guy grabbed the remaining two men and ordered them to go outside and aid the others. He then hurried upstairs to warn the men up there that they might have the company they’ve been waiting for. With luck, they would now earn the trust that their captains had placed in them.


This time, the bird call came from Duinion as he spotted two more men in red and black, moving together toward Arnyn’s location. It was immediately repeated so she would hear it twice in a row and hopefully get the message.

The first man in red and black tried to grab Arnyn, but she moved away from his arm even as she stepped in toward and next to him, turning as she stepped and pulling him forward by the arm that had been trying to make a grab for her, effectively making the man lose his balance since she wasn’t where he’d anticipated her to be. Her knee pushed into the back of his own knee, making him stumble forward. She immediately wrapped her arm around his neck and head, using the other arm to lock it and make him lose consciousness.

The two bird calls, which came in quick succession, made her whip her head around toward them. She lowered the first man into the tall grass. His scimitar was around somewhere, but she couldn’t spot it. That was alright, though. If she couldn’t see it, then neither could they. Arnyn turned toward the two men who were approaching more swiftly now. Her expression was focused as she took note of their weapons.

Vorondil had not been fighting as quietly as his lieutenant, even though the only sounds coming from his fight was the occasional sound of steel against steel. He was wrestling the guy into the tall grass by the time Arnyn engaged her next two opponents. She drew a dagger from the back of her belt and swiped it over one of the men’s upper legs as she darted between them and behind the other man, quickly jabbing the heel of her hand into his kidney area. It seemed that his armour was decent enough for it not to incapacitate him, though, for all he did was groan and turn toward her. She evaded his slash, stepping to the left, grabbed his sword arm with her free hand as she pivoted slightly and once again pushed him forward along with his momentum. As he stumbled forward and away from her, the other guy almost bumped into him. Arnyn kicked the stumbling man away from her, keeping them both off balance, and then moved in to grab the other man’s main arm whilst kicking sharply at one of his knees. The man who’d stumbled had meanwhile recovered, but the Lieutenant was aware of him to her right, and ducked under the other man’s arm, twisting his arm along with her as she did so and putting her dagger at his throat as he went to his knees from the unexpected pain. “No,” she ordered the other man. “Not another move.”


While she was putting the second guy into an armlock, the third guy to her right swiftly assessed the situation. His buddy was pinned with a knife to his throat, and he could see another guy in the grass, possibly dead? He assumed so, since that’s what his group of people would do unless they had orders not to.. like now. He figured the best way to deal with this woman was to outnumber her, and she was busy holding onto his comrade, so that would make it harder for her to fight him. He only hesitated a second before moving forward to attack her again, although he did remember the captain’s orders to take them alive. Therefore, his attack was going to be a strike to the head or neck from the hilt of his scimitar. His attack abruptly halted, however, as a cry of pain escaped him. He faltered, stumbling down to the grass, and then looked down to find an arrow protruding from his knee.

Duinion had found it very limiting, having to keep from killing these guys. He had refrained from shooting for as long as he could bear, waiting anxiously to see whether Arnyn could handle all three of them. And, he had been reluctant to do any shooting before they engaged in fighting, lest he reveal the presence of archers prematurely. But he finally deemed it best to stop the fellow’s attack before Arnyn was forced to release the other guy. Now, the biggest concern was that they might call out and draw out the rest of the men. He had no idea whether there might be more of them than the rangers could handle. As long as they kept sending them out in pairs, however, that was easily manageable.

After Vorondil had subdued his opponent, he heard a cry of pain coming from behind the other corner. It wasn’t Arnyn, that was easy to tell, but a quick glance around him made it clear there were no more enemies to fight here. But there might be at the Lieutenant’s position. The ranger quickly moved past the window and rounded the corner, sword in hand. Upon the sight before him, he didn’t waste a single moment in raising the pommel of his sword. Making solid contact between the weighted end of his sword and the head of the guy whose leg had just been skewered with an arrow. The guy dropped down into the grass. Vorondil offered a shrug and a little grin at Arnyn’s frown.

The Lieutenant finally nodded and tilted her head, and Vorondil pulled out some leather ties to secure the guy she had forced down to his knees.

---

(private)

|
September 3rd - midmorning
Harlond - The Chandlery
(several hours before the rangers arrived)

“What do you want?” Mar asked.

Dev stepped around the girl sprawled on the floor. She was looking back and forth between the two of them with big, round eyes. He ignored her and took a seat opposite from Mar, folding his hands on the tabletop. “Before I tell you my terms, tell me, what exactly do you want of me?” He wanted to know what to set a price for, after all.

Mar kept a cloth pressed to his arm, and snapped at Merilda. “Are you going to bandage this or not?”

She jumped at the reproach, and hastened to get up from the floor. “Sorry, m’lord,” She mumbled, hurriedly getting back to work on the bandage, moving into another available chair. She occasionally cast swift, nervous glances at the other man, wondering who this guy might be.

Mar turned back to Dev. “I need passage to Lond Col, as quickly as I can manage. The timing is very important,” He wanted to make sure the timing was perfect; that he would arrive too late for it to be possible that anyone could travel from Lossarnach to Lond Col in that time, to leave no doubt that he must have come by carriage and not ship, but not so late as to leave any possible chance that he might have been in Minas Tirith around the time that the evidence was planted. Oh, and also, when that girl was kidnapped. In case anyone were to spot him and make any accusations trying to connect him with those matters, he wanted to have his alibi established and unquestionable.

Dev was inwardly surprised to hear the name Lond Col brought up. And, that the false nobleman wanted to go there. He hid a smile; that was exactly where he was about to go, himself. “That might be manageable,” He spoke slowly, as if uncertain.

“Could you arrange for anyone following me here, to get information that will draw them to Pharak?”

“I don’t see why not.” Dev could speak with the harbor master about making it happen… it definitely helped to have someone under the pirate’s control, so they could make him to do as they ordered. With the man’s family threatened, he was very cooperative. “Any other demands?” Dev wondered dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Only one. I need to get a message to Pharak, so he knows to expect these.. guests.” Mar frowned, glancing at his right arm. It would be a bit hard to hold a quill. “But I’ll need you to write it.”

“Why me? Why not her?” Dev nodded toward the girl.

Mar glanced at Merilda and frowned. He had no idea if she could write such a message.

Slowly, she glanced up from tying the bandage, and realized they were talking to or about her. She blinked, hastily thinking back to recall what they’d asked about. “Oh.. no, m’lords,” She answered hastily, a bit flustered. “No, I don’t know how to read or write. Well, I can read a few little words, if I really study at it.." She rambled nervously. "What I mean to say is that I was learning from Lady Al-” She trailed off as Mar made a motion for her to shut up. She dropped her gaze and bit back an apology.

“So, you see, it’ll have to be you.” Mar went on. “Unless you have anyone on your crew you’d rather delegate the task to.” He shrugged.

“Fine. And how do you intend to get this message to him?”

“Same as before. Your bird. The falcon. You do still have it?”

Dev frowned slightly. “I do,” He answered slowly. “But to send her to Umbar, then for her to fly back to me…” His frown deepened. “And we’re going to Lond Col, which means she would have even further to fly, to find me again..” He tapped his fingers on the table and shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

Mar let out a sigh of impatience. “Well, it’s necessary. Otherwise, how is Pharak going to know to expect the gift I’m sending? They could surprise him, and then.. the tables might be turned.” He frowned. “I don’t want to risk that. Do you?”

Dev tapped the table thoughtfully with one finger for a moment. “I have a better idea.” He decided. This young fellow still had much to learn, Dev thought, but didn’t say so out loud. “I’ll send a message to Uhta. He’s just up the coast a little way. I saw his ship only a couple of days ago. I’ll tell him to wait at the chandlery with enough men to ensure a victory… how many rangers are you expecting?”

“I’m not certain of the number,” Mar answered thoughtfully. It crossed his mind that Dev may try to take the credit for this plan. Between him and Uhta, suppose they claimed that they were behind the whole thing, and tried to cut Mar out entirely? Well, that wouldn’t work, he thought smugly. Because, what they didn’t know, was that Mar had Eryn stashed away somewhere, and after he was finished at the joust at Lond Col, he would return to get her. And when he showed up with her at the temple in a few weeks, Pharak would know that this whole thing was Mar’s scheme.

Then again, he thought… if Dev and Uhta did try that, and something went very wrong with the whole plan… it would make it that much easier for Mar to shed any ‘credit’ for any negative results that might come of it. He was fine with that. He nodded his agreement to this plan. “I’d estimate at least three. But I’d plan for at least twice that, if not more.” He cautioned. “These rangers..” He shook his head. “It’s hard to say what they’ll do.” He felt sure that the girl’s father would certainly come after her. And Domanol was sure to barge his way in as well, because he and that ‘blood brother’ of his were close. Just like Trev and Nal and Ryn had always been. And then there was Nal. He would definitely come, right? Eryn was a good friend of his. He would tag along no matter how hard they tried to stop him.

But Mar was not sure whether those three would think to stop and get any help from their fellow rangers. He hoped, based on what he had learned of all three, that they would all rush off without any further assistance. Possibly, and hopefully, without even telling anyone where they were going. That would be great. Whatever the case, he felt good about Uhta leaving a large number of his crew waiting to ambush them.

“So, maybe six.” Dev repeated thoughtfully. “We’d better leave at least twice that. If I leave a few of my men, and Uhta sends some of his, we should be able to handle them without any trouble.” He decided, smiling at the thought of taking out a few rangers.

“That should work,” Mar agreed.

“Now that that’s settled,” Dev leaned back. “You said you need to get to Lond Col. Is that all?”

“Well, I’ll need to be let off at a certain point, so I can meet with a carriage that I’ve sent on ahead of me.” Mar mentioned.

“That can be arranged, I’m sure. Though, if there are any dangers involved toward myself or my ship, my price will be doubled.” He warned.

“Hmm, I expect so. But this should be relatively safe. And you might be interested to know that most of the swan knights are going to be at a Jousting Tournament, so you should have a nice, clear run of the coast. Still.. be more wary around Lond Col.” He added.

Dev nodded, the joust being no surprise to him, but he said nothing. “Well, since you’re in such a hurry,” He mentioned, “Why don’t we come aboard the ship, and we can discuss the particulars there, in more comfort than this dusty old place can provide?” He motioned to Mar’s arm. “And I can have my healer finish that up. He actually knows what he’s doing.”

Merilda hesitated with a tiny wince, recognizing that it was meant as an insult to her bandaging abilities.

Mar smiled as he stood up. “That sounds like an excellent plan.” He pushed the bandaging supplies at Merilda. “Bring these along,” He ordered her.

“Come on then.” Dev stood up and led the way back downstairs to the sales floor.

The other men closed in behind them. As Merilda was made to follow along close to Mar, she felt rather surrounded and trapped by all of these rough looking men. She was feeling more and more nervous about this whole endeavor, and wished more than ever that she had stayed home in Lossarnach.

[Arnyn]

(joint writing post with Rillewen)

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Inside the chandlery, the man standing by the window caught a glimpse of someone darting past it. And it wasn’t one of their people. There was only a soft cry of pain from outside, and then all seemed silent. Was that one of their people making that cry, or one of the enemy? He waited for a bit until the other man, the ‘elected leader’ of their group, came back downstairs. They spoke softly together, figuring out what to do. None of the others had yet returned, which did not seem good. How many were out there? Were their people taking care of them, or had they been taken care of?

Ultimately, they decided to stay put and wait, and in fact, the guy who was ‘in charge’ called down three more of the guys who were upstairs, so there would be more of them waiting. But the others remained upstairs, watching. Waiting for the right moment to surprise the enemy. They abandoned the card game they’d been absorbed in up until that point, and one of them moved to the window to see if he could observe anything going on from the upstairs window, but it was not the right angle to let him get a view of anything going on.


In the grass, Duinion was relieved to see Arnyn and Vorondil work together to finish the two. Well, along with his arrow. Soon, those three were successfully apprehended, and he assumed a fourth was also tied up somewhere, or else Vorondil would not have come over here to aid Arnyn. So, was that all of them? He didn’t think so, but after waiting a long while, he didn’t see or hear any other sign of them. He glanced upward, and tried to see whether anything was going on upstairs. Was that a figure he saw, standing there in the window? Were they being observed? He frowned, looking toward Arnyn to see if she had any ideas about what to do now, since it seemed they weren’t getting any more easy pickings.

Meanwhile, the Lieutenant tasked Vorondil with tying the four guys’ ankles all together. With their hands bound behind their backs, and their ankles all tied together, no one would be loosening anyone else’s bounds. Not unless they were contortionists. Considering what their next move might be, since it appeared no one else was being sent outside, she looked over to where she knew Duinion was hiding. Then Sarina. Vorondil and she remained close to the walls of the building.
Using hand signals, Arnyn checked with Sarina. Visual? The woman signaled back a negative.
Duinion, though, signaled back: upward.
After a moment, Arnyn blinked and looked up at the building. Roof? She signaled. Window?
Window, he signaled back, as well as he could without making too much movement that might draw attention toward his spot. After a moment’s thought, he also signaled to indicate he did not have a clear line of sight to the window.

Arnyn nodded slowly, going over the options in her mind. If she and Vorondil moved inside, what good were Duinion and Sarina out here, if someone was watching to instantly betray their position once the two archers had a need to move? If Duinion and Sarina moved, though, Vorondil and she could remain undetected. Arnyn took in a deep breath. Her first instinct, earlier, had told her not to separate from each other. Should they all go in? There was no way of knowing how many opponents were still inside. Downstairs, upstairs… But odds were, once they heard noises downstairs, anyone still located upstairs would come rushing down. And then there was the option of traps inside.

Decisions.

Front door, she signaled to both Duinion and Sarina. Together. She waited for the two rangers to join Vorondil and herself. Then the four of them approached the entrance as a group.

Nodding briefly, Duinion moved through the grass as stealthily as he could manage to get to Arnyn’s side. He could see Sarina coming to join them too, from the other side. “What now?” He whispered, wondering if she had a plan in mind yet or not. “I’m sure there’s more of them, but I could only partially see the window. There’s a glare on it from the sun, so I’m not certain, but I think there was a man standing there looking out of it, upstairs.” He kept his voice very low, so it didn’t carry further than where they were standing. He paused for a moment. “They probably know we’re here by now.” He was trying to imagine what he might do if he was in their place, but it was difficult to say, without knowing how many there were.

“Now we go in,” Arnyn said with a determined tone. “We don’t know what is waiting for us in there, but we can be sure that they are, in fact, waiting. Personally I wouldn’t advise the use of bows in a smaller building like this, but you can all make your own decision on the matter.” Everyone here was an experienced ranger. She trusted their own assessment. “Duinion and I go first. Sarina and Vorondil will follow. The duo’s will stick together, in the same room - always. So everyone always has someone watching their back. Between the two duo’s, ideally we should be within line of sight of each other, or at the very least close hearing distance. Depending on the actual layout of the place. If there are multiple storeys, we all move together from one storey to another.” She looked at everyone’s faces to make sure they had understood. “Any questions or additional suggestions?”

Vorondil shrugged and shook his head. Sarina remained silent.

Duinion gave a single nod as the lieutenant explained what her plan was. He debated whether he should leave his bow behind, if they weren’t likely to be using them. But he also didn’t like the idea of leaving it anywhere. Then, it occurred to him, also, that if they were not intending to kill any of these guys, he might be better off to use it as a non-lethal kind of weapon. “Just a moment.” He requested when the lieutenant asked if they had any questions or suggestions. “If we’re not killing them..” He took a moment to unstring his bow. He carefully wound the string up, and put it into a pocket. “There. Ready.” He nodded to the lieutenant as he held his bow now as if it were a staff with just a slight curve to it. It was thick and sturdy, and yet flexible and strong enough to use without too much risk of it breaking on impact.

In fact, he had purposely made this new bow with this intention in mind, so this was an excellent chance to try it out and see whether it was going to work out as he’d hoped. He intended to leave his daggers in their sheaths, if possible. While daggers would have been better for the close quarters he was expecting, he was determined to take these guys alive, if possible. Which meant he would be best not to use any lethal weapons. He waited for Arnyn to start toward the door, and kept close to her.

“We’re trying not to kill them,” Arnyn confirmed Duinion’s words. “If it is you or them, however, make the call.” She drew her sword and unsheathed her dagger, and led the other three rangers to the door. If the space was too narrow, she’d need a shorter blade. If there was room though, she’d be better off with the longer weapon. She sort of wished she’d brought a shortsword. But she hadn’t known that their path would lead them to a building in Harlond, of all places…


Inside the chandlery, the pirates had guessed that the rangers had arrived. The one in charge had two of his men hidden behind some floor display racks near the window, while another two waited on either side of the front door. The other three waited at the top of the stairs, ready to run down to aid their friends if needed. The leader ducked down behind the sales counter, waiting to jump out to the other’s aid and surprise their company with more numbers than they initially would have thought. He reminded them all of their instructions; to take the rangers alive. The corsairs readied an assortment of weapons, ranging from brass knuckles to wooden clubs and things of that sort. And then.. they waited.


“Stay out of sight,” Arnyn ordered the others, and waited for them to get out of line of sight from the doorway. Mentally, she sighed. Outwardly, she nodded, before gritting her teeth and kicking forcefully at the door. It opened with a bang. And a cry. From behind the door. Arnyn held up her hand carrying the dagger, to hold the others back. To see if anyone would come out now. It would be preferable to fight in the open. Although, now she could look inside, it looked like the door opened into a spacious room. She’d be able to use her longsword in there just fine. “Are we playing hide and seek?” she asked into the doorway. Despite her level tone, she was ready to move at a moment’s notice. Even if they saw her, though, they wouldn’t see the others at least. Not at the moment. And then... then things happened very fast...

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

The corsairs had been expecting the rangers to come in.. But they weren’t quite expecting them to enter like that. Though the corsairs outnumbered the rangers, it didn’t take very long before the first two were put out of commission. The others, from by the window, leaped out from hiding, rushing to join the fight about the time the other guy leaped from behind the counter. A fourth came from upstairs, and between the four of them, there was a brief moment that it seemed like Arnyn and Duinion would be outnumbered. But then Sarina and Vorondil joined in the fight, and those four were soon on the floor with their buddies. For the moment, it seemed as if they had dealt with all of the foes. However.. Hearing a soft creak from the floorboards above, Duinion glanced upward, then looked to catch Arnyn’s eye, with a nod toward the stairs and a questioning glance. Should they check the upstairs now?

Arnyn made a minute movement with her head. “Cover the stairs,” she ordered.

Giving a small nod, Duinion kept his gaze trained on the stairs, ready to fight off any more who came down. He moved behind the counter to stand beside of the stairway so that he would not be seen as easily from anyone coming down. Sarina took position on the other side of the doorway, and they waited silently.

Arnyn, meanwhile, chose one of the corsairs who was still conscious to grab by the collar. “How do you get down to the water?” she asked levelly. First, she wanted to know where that exit was. For an exit could also be an entrance. And she wasn’t about to lead three other rangers upstairs when who knows how many adversaries could be entering the place through there. Furthermore, they didn’t know how many were still upstairs. Waiting for them here would give them an advantage. Here, they had an open space, whereas those descending the stairs would have to come through the narrow corridor of the stairwell. They could take out many opponents using that bottleneck.

The corsair stared back at Arnyn with a look that was hard to determine.. perhaps smugness, perhaps something else. Instead of answering her question, he said something in a Harad language, which none of the rangers present could understand.

Arnyn ignored the comment, which was easy since she couldn’t understand what the man was saying. Even if his words were probably derogatory, based on his tone and facial expression. “Right,” she said noncommittally, letting go of him.

A few seconds later, Duinion saw something tossed down from the stairs, and before he could even properly identify what it was, a bottle, with smoke streaming out of it, shattered against the floor, causing smoke to spread quickly as the contents were scattered. It filled the room quickly, obscuring their vision so that it was difficult to see much. Hearing a pair of footsteps a couple of seconds later, as the men upstairs tried to take advantage of the ranger’s clouded vision, Duinion swiftly stuck his bow/staff low across the second-to-last step, horizontally. Moments later, two men cried out in surprise, one after the other, as they tripped and tumbled to the floor, one on top of the other. Duinion and Sarina swiftly grabbed one apiece, and got their hands bound before the men could recover. Trying not to cough from the smoke, Duinion then crouched near the base of the stairs, waiting in case there were more of them, but no more seemed to be forthcoming.

Being nearest to the front door, Vorondil swiftly opened it to let the smoke dissipate more swiftly, while Sarina stamped out anything still burning. The smoke began to clear after a few seconds.

The smoke blurred their vision for a while, but otherwise did not seem to aid their adversaries much. Only two had come downstairs, two men who were quickly bound. The Rangers waited for the smoke to clear.

“Keep the prisoners apart enough so they can’t get it in their heads to help each other,” Arnyn told the others, but her focus was clearly on the room. Shelves, tables, only one door beside the entrance to the building. And that door led to the stairway. If they had a way down to the water… it would either be through a basement, or some kind of way or tunnel would have to start somewhere on this floor. But she could see nothing of the sort. What else was in here?

Her brown eyes settled on the sales counter. And she remembered something from an old Tower Guard mission from many years ago. The Lieutenant eyed it for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “Vorondil,” she addressed the Hyandaner. “Lend me a hand.” She walked over to the sales counter, grabbing onto its edges.. “See if you and I can move this, will you?”

While Vorondil went to assist the lieutenant, Duinion remained where he was for now. He heard nothing more upstairs, and finally turned his attention elsewhere. The counter was not budging, despite how much strength the two rangers applied to it. His gaze swept over the floor, and frowned thoughtfully as he noticed that, despite how much had been disturbed during their fight earlier, there was enough dust on the floor over here that he could make out some tracks. "Lieutenant," He straightened and followed these, keeping off to one side of the tracks so that he could inspect them.

He crouched at the base of a large display table. It was completely bare, except for a brass candelabra situated in the center of the top tier. There were no candles in it, and it seemed a bit out of place. Duinion's focus, at the moment, was on the floor, where he could see that a group of people had walked right up to this point... and then stopped. Seemingly. Only there were no tracks walking away from it. Among them.. he saw the shoeprints of the young woman who had been in the forest, and the boots of the fellow who had grabbed Eryn. "They went this way," He declared quietly, although he had no idea how to access this secret way.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Arnyn was looking for a kind of lever on the sales counter, since it wasn't budging when trying to move it manually. But when Duinion drew her attention and walked up to a table with a wide floor base, saying that 'they went this way', Arnyn put her palms flat on the sales counter and laughed briefly and quietly. "Right. Can you pull that candle holder, Duinion?" she asked, as her eyes flicked attentively between the captured men. "Or push, whichever..."

Duinion did as she asked and found the candelabra didn't fall over when he pulled or pushed it. After a few attempts, the candle holder moved sideways until they heard a soft but audible click. Arnyn nodded to herself as the middle and upper part of the display table swiveled to the side, away from the Tirdinen. The base of the display table remained where it was, now framing what was clearly exactly what Arnyn had expected: a hole in the floor. She ignored the captured men as she walked by a few of them to stand next to Duinion. They both looked down at a deep, dark hole, steps leading down into the blackness below.

The Lieutenant pointedly looked over her shoulder to the corsair she'd picked out to ask her question to, earlier. A little smile played around her lips. Didn't need you after all, the smile said. She looked back at the hole. "We will have to go down there. But I do not want to risk anyone closing this up behind us. Besides, we need someone watching the prisoners. Two go down there, two stay up here." She glanced at Duinion, next to her. "Your choice first, Raedor." He was the only one among them who would have to face his fears going down there. It had been an eventful day already, and he had ventured down another dark narrow space already.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

(private)

|
September 3rd - midmorning
Harlond - The Chandlery
(several hours before the rangers arrived)

Merilda stared in surprise as the pirate captian, Dev, moved a candelabra on top of an empty display table, and whole thing swung open to reveal a secret stairway beneath it, going down further. Her eyes widened as she followed Mar down this other flight of stairs, looking around in awe.

They went down and down, much further than she would have expected. Torches lit the way periodically, but after a point, she began to realize that the walls were made of stone. They were descending into a cave! She never would have guessed, by looking at the outside of the Chandlery, that there was a cave hidden underneath. The stairs turned, and down they went further, until at last, the tunnel opened out into a wide cavern.

Looking around in wonder, Merilda nearly stopped in astonishment as she took in the hidden ‘basement’ of the place. It was huge.. and filled with shelves and shelves of all sorts of things. Crates and boxes of all manner of goods, stored away in secret… and yet, all of the boxes were marked as containing candles. She found this confusing. Why mark things as candles when they weren’t candles? She had no idea that this was a hub for smuggling activity, or she might have come to the realization that just about everything in here was stolen goods, probably even illegal in Gondor. Looking around, she even saw cages.. like a small cellblock for prisoners, though it was empty at the moment. But why was it here? What could they possibly keep in those cells.. this wasn’t the gaol, right?

The men surrounding her seemed uninterested in these sights, and they pushed her to keep moving. Merilda saw many more men working, carrying crates toward a large rowboat that they were loading with boxes.

“We’ve got some guests,” Dev announced. “Hurry up and load the rest of this stuff, we need to leave as soon as possible. And we had better not miss the tide, else we’re stuck here another half a day.” He looked around to make sure everyone had heard him. The cave offered enough acoustics to help his voice carry to all of the crew, and their reply carried back to him, ‘Aye, captain!’

“This one’s loaded enough,” Dev decided, indicating the boat that they had been working on. “Start on the next, we’ve only got about half an hour.” He ordered whoever was leading the workers. He turned to Mar. “We’ll take this one to the ship. Get in.”

Mar nodded and nudged Merilda toward the boat.

She looked at him with wide eyes, then at the boat, and back to the men. “B-but, m'lord, I.. I don’t know how to swim,” She stammered softly.

“No one’s asking you to swim,” Dev retorted, rolling his eyes. “Get in the boat, girl.”

“Unless you’d rather be pushed into the boat, I suggest you get in and stop wasting our time.” Mar ordered, an ominous sound to his voice.

Merilda hesitated, but swallowed nervously and nodded. She tentatively stepped one foot in, then gasped in alarm as the boat tilted from her weight. She was about to crouch down and try to climb in carefully, when Mar put a foot to her backside and pushed her the rest of the way in, so that she tumbled down to the bottom of the boat with a little cry of alarm.

Several of the men laughed, watching her sprawl onto the bottom of the boat, and she hastily sat up and tried to fight tears, clutching onto the sides of the boat as she tried to fight a queasy feeling. She did not like the rocking of the boat as Mar, Dev, and a couple of other men got into the boat with them.

The tunnel felt long, and the men rowed swiftly. Merilda held her breath and shut her eyes for part of the trip, but she could hear and sense them rowing, sending the boat surging forward with as much speed as possible. After a while, she began to feel a little more used to the feeling, and she finally opened her eyes. She saw a narrow circle of light ahead. Frowning in curiosity, she watched them move toward it rapidly, and soon, the boat burst out of the dark tunnel and into.. not full daylight, but there was filtered daylight coming from an opening concealed by a curtain of hanging vines and moss and stuff. Ahead, a beautiful ship, shaped like an elegant swan, rested near a dock. She looked around. They seemed to be at a harbor, but they were still underground. This ship was hidden inside a huge cavern. She looked back at the ship, curious as she watched them row toward it. It wasn’t far from the hidden tunnel.

Soon, they were alongside the ship, and the men who had been rowing swiftly climbed up some ropes dangling down the side of the ship. After they had climbed up, Dev secured the ends of these ropes to the sides of the rowboat, then looked at Mar and Merilda. “Stay still and there won’t be too much rocking as they lift it.” He warned them.

Merilda closed her eyes again, gripping the boat on each side as the men up above began to draw it up, hauling on the ropes to pull the load up, using pulleys. Eventually, the entire boat was swung over the railing and set down on the deck. She was glad to follow Mar out of the boat, and stood looking around wide-eyed and curious at her new surroundings. She had never been on a ship before, and it was fascinating to her.

“Jay, would you see about finding suitable lodgings for the young lady? She is a servant of our guest.” Dev requested of his first mate with a little nod to indicate Mar, while the other men worked on unloading crates and barrels from the boat, taking them down into the cargo hold.

Jay had been supervising this work, but he was one of the few men on the ship that Dev would trust with such a task. While Jay led Merilda toward a guest cabin, Dev called a few other men forward and gave orders that they were to wait at the chandlery, and filled them in on their task.

As they set off to do as their captain instructed, Mar turned to Dev. “So, what sort of price are we talking?” Mar wondered, curious what sort of demands to expect from the pirate captain.

“Let’s get you to Norui, and we’ll talk afterward.” Dev said, setting off toward the ship’s infirmary, where the healer resided.

---

Warning for anyone squeamish; there will be death and blood near the end of this post, as instructed by the generous writer who loaned me the use of some of her corsair crew



Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

The candelabra seemed as if it was stuck to the top of the surface. Either that.. or secured down. But when it slid sideways, his eyebrows rose slightly. When the base of the table swung out away from him, Duinion stepped back and swallowed. That was.. a very deep. dark. hole. Duinion steeled himself to keep from making any noticeable expressions to give away his apprehension about it. The enemies were still watching, after all. So were his fellow rangers.. and the lieutenant. He took another small step back and drew in a slow breath.


The corsair that Arnyn looked at stared back at her with a dark look of hate burning in his gaze. He was clearly not pleased to have failed in his job, and not only that, but now the smuggler's secret entrance had been discovered! And now.. there seemed only one thing to do. But he would wait for the right moment, when all his comrades were together. He looked to his nearest shipmate and they exchanged a look.


When Arnyn spoke of needing someone to watch the prisoners, Duinion's first thought was to jump to volunteer for that. He refrained, however, forcing himself to take a moment and sort out all of the 'to dos' that lay before them. And take everything into account. He stared at the dark hole leading into a musty-smelling basement, then turned away deliberately. He could think clearer without looking at that.

"Before we do anything," He spoke slowly at first. "Perhaps we ought to bring the other four captives inside, so whoever remains behind can keep an eye on all of them?" He suggested. He didn't exactly like the way that corsair was staring at them, although he was confident that they could not get out of their bonds. Still, he was glad when the lieutenant agreed with his suggestion. He didn't like the idea that they couldn't see what was going on with the captives outside. Suppose someone came along and freed them?

Soon enough, all of the captives had been brought inside, and the front door had been barred to prevent anyone else from bursting into the chandlery. Now, the only thing left was to decide who would stay and who would go on, down into the deep, dark pit.

While they had been bringing the other captives inside, Duinion had some time to think about the options. Remembering why he had chosen to come along with Arnyn and the others, instead of going back with Eryn. She was safe.. for now. But as long as these people were still loose, they might try to use her to get to Dom or Nal or even Duinion, again. Then there was Dom.. he couldn't leave this threat to his brother roaming free. His brother had been gone for too long for him to lose him again. He'd already dealt with the grief of losing him once.. he didn't want to endure that again if he could help it.

Then there was Unalmis, and his vow to keep him safe. That was another part of why he had come. And then.. there was Ryn. The one he had made that vow to. Duinion struggled to renew the determination he had felt, back there in that burned forest when Eryn told him that the man who did this was the one who killed him. The anger rekindled, and he conjured up the image in his mind. Of Ryn. Remembering how he had looked as he died. He had to find this guy and make him pay for that. And even if they didn't catch up to that guy, today, they might be able to capture someone who could give them the information they needed to put a stop to all of these enemies. One could only hope... but anyway, he wanted to be a part of that. He needed to be a part of that, in order to fulfil his oath.

"I.. I think.. I'll.. go along," He answered Arnyn with a little difficulty. He was going to say more, when a new, unexpected commotion began. The corsair who had spoken earlier began to speak again. Still in an unknown language, but not the same one, it seemed. Duinion frowned, wondering if they ought to put a gag in his mouth, in case he was trying to warn someone down in the basement about them. Actually, it almost sounded chant-ish, but he wasn't sure what to think about that. A certain word was repeated frequently throughout his chant; Zigur.

Duinion glanced at the others with a frown, thinking to go over and stuff something in his mouth, but before anyone could make a move toward him, the guy gave a shout ending with that odd word before clenching his teeth. Duinion started toward him intending to try and quiet him, but before he got there, the man began to convulse. "Lieutenant?" Duinion stared, confused, alarmed, and.. unsure what to do or think. To his shock, as the convulsions grew more violent, twin streams of blood began to seep from the man's eyes, oozing down his cheeks, which made him appear to be weeping red tears.

Around the room, all of the men wearing red and black had, as one, joined in with that shout if they were able. Those who were gagged had tried, though the sound was muffled. All begun to display the same symptoms. It all happened quickly, and it wasn't long before they went still, even those who had gags in their mouths, though it seemed to take a bit longer for them.

Duinion stared in sickened horror at this sight. Out of the whole group of captured enemies, the only men who remained alive were the ones who were not dressed in red and black. They looked just as shocked and horrified as Duinion felt. They also seemed quite terrified by the spectacle.

Duinion turned away and looked toward the lieutenant, hoping for some sort of.. answers.. or guidance, perhaps? "What..now?" He asked softly. Did this change any of the plan, he wondered? This was.. not at all what he had expected to happen. In all the years he had fought invading forces from Harad and other hostile lands trying to attack Ithilien, he had never encountered any of them doing anything like this. And while he didn't relish the idea of going down into the pit beyond.. he also didn't really like the thought of staying here looking at these bloody-eyed corpses.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting Duinion to decide. Him choosing to stay would have been a disappointment, albeit an acceptable one. Him choosing to go down those steps, though... was interesting. Arnyn dearly hoped Duinion would manage himself well enough down there. That way, she could rest assured that he had his progress on the matter well in hand, and that he could be trusted to handle it by himself - along with the support of whomever he chose. Rather than by having to intervene herself.

Pulled from these thoughts by one of the corsairs, dressed in red and black, whom started rhythmically speaking words she did not know, the Lieutenant turned away from the uncovered hole to look at the captive, who was repeating the word 'Zigur' on and off. Zigur... she knew that word. Sorcerer. A possible alias for Sauron. Were they speaking in Adunaic? Arnyn frowned as she remembered the jackal tattoo visible on one of the other men in red and black. The Halsad mark. And Pharak was a Blood Priest in a cult devoted to Sauron. Her frown deepened when Duinion moved toward the man, but halted in his tracks when the corsair began to convulse. The frown disappeared from the Lieutenant's face as she looked on while the other captives in red and black all attempted to shout 'Zigur' - with varying success - and all started convulsing.

"Lieutenant?" Duinion's address of her was questioning. Arnyn calmly shook her head. She had seen something similar before. There was nothing they could do at this point. The tears of blood, granted, were a sight she had never seen before. But she took it in with a kind of unshakable composure. Seemingly unimpressed.

When Duinion asked "What now?", Arnyn let out a sigh. "Now... we have less prisoners," she said, her tone non-committal

Vorondil looked uncomfortable, but this wasn't the first time he'd known something like this to happen either. Sarina's face was white as a sheet. Even if she'd seen battle, even if she wasn't squeamish about blood... this was different. "How can you be so calm?" she asked Arnyn in a whisper.

Arnyn looked at her. "Those men made their decision. There is no interfering between a zealot and their beliefs or ideals. I've seen something similar before. They were told or taught to do this when captured. There was nothing we could have done," she tried to reassure Sarina, Duinion and Vorondil. "The important thing is not to let it shake you. Focus on the task at hand. Duinion and I will go down the steps, into the hole, or tunnel, or whatever that is. Sarina, Vorondil - watch the remaining prisoners. As well as the front door. I don't want anyone sneaking up on us while we're down there. Shout if something goes amiss. Duinion and I will do the same. If you shoot - we will turn back. If we shout - you come and join us. Understood?"

Sarina was still staring at one of the corsairs in red and black. Arnyn approached her and put a hand on her forearm. "Sarina. Do you need to go down there in my stead?"
But the woman blinked, looked up at Arnyn and shook her head resolutely. "No. No, Lieutenant. I'll be fine."
"Yes, you will," Arnyn agreed, her tone confident, before turning prompty and heading toward the steps leading into the hole. There seemed to be a flicker of light just within sight. After drawing her sword again, the Lieutenant started her descent. She assumed that Duinion would follow without having to be told.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

The sight was very unsettling, and Duinion felt bad for ranger Sarina. Like her, he marveled at the lieutenant's ability to not appear affected by it. His gaze briefly rested on each of the men who remained alive. He thought that they all looked quite uneasy as they stared at the bodies of the men who had been their comrades. Apparently, they had not seen this coming, either. At least, it seemed that they were not intending to kill themselves any time soon. All of those who were now dead, he had noted, seemed to have the same tattoo somewhere on them; forearms, biceps, shoulder, one even had it on the side of his neck. Each one pictured a jackal. Evidently, the mark of the Halsad's cult. He had no idea who the other men were, but they did not seem to be members of that group.

As Arnyn started toward the hole, Duinion turned to her. "Lieutenant," He asked, hesitantly. "What if we encounter more of those.. zealots?" He asked softly. Perhaps, a small part of him wished to delay going down the hole just yet, but it seemed like a reasonable question. "I mean," he glanced toward the room, then back to her as he kept his voice down. "If they're going to kill themselves anyway, should we just shoot to kill, or keep with the plan to try and capture them alive?" He wondered, frowning. In a way, he almost felt it might be better to kill them before they could give themselves such a horrendous death. And, he wouldn't be surprised if that was their goal; to die so horribly that it was meant to send a message to their foes, or at least unsettle their foes. To 'rob' them of sacrificing their lives to their cause might be a good idea. Although he would prefer to get a few answers.. it seemed very unlikely they were going to get any such answers out of those fellows. Besides, they might not realize how awful the death would be, and to spare them from such a thing might be merciful.

Whatever her response, he nodded to acknowledge that he would do as instructed, then took a slow breath before he carefully climbed over the frame around the hole. He paused after a few steps down, staring into the depths. There was a light, somewhere ahead. It seemed too far away for his liking. He wished they had some sort of candle... ironically, there were none to be found in the chandlery. "Don't suppose we still have that torch from the cave..?" He muttered, mostly rhetorically.

Drawing on the resolve from earlier, while mentally picturing those that he loved, Duinion descended, step after step, until he felt as if the darkness had swallowed the two of them up in the stairway. His hand gripped his bow tightly. String or no string, it served as an excellent weapon either way. And his daggers were at his sides, if he should need them. Periodically, he looked up, just to check and make sure the opening was still open. It was. He tried to hold onto that. They could come back up anytime, so long as that stayed open.

He was grateful when they came across a torch, mounted on a sconce in the stone wall. He took it so they could better see the steps as they descended. There was another one a bit further on. "Long stairs," He muttered, glancing up again. Once they had turned around a landing, he struggled not to let himself feel dismayed by the fact he could no longer look up and see the light from the opening. It was still there, he told himself. But it was so far down, he wasn't sure whether they would be able to hear Sarina or Vorondil if they yelled, or vice versa.

It seemed like forever before the stairs finally ended. Duinion felt like he was way too far underground, but he tried very hard not to think about it. The scene before them was unexpected. It looked almost as if a huge warehouse had somehow been swallowed up by the earth. Boxes and barrels and crates, all marked 'candles', were stashed away. From what he could see of them, these were all filled with anything but candles. He frowned and glanced at the lieutenant, curious what to do now. "There could be men hiding around here," He whispered. "Or, if there is anyone else down here.. they might not realize we're down here. Maybe we should hide?" He wasn't quite sure what to do, but it seemed possible that they might still have the element of surprise on their side.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Rillewen
Cadil with Nal and guard outside etc
Guardhouse at the South Gate

"A coffin nail?" Cadil mused, taking the nail from Nal and lifting it towards the window as he inspected it. "Wouldn't mind if it held some magic about it."

He then took to prodding the lock with the nail as best as he could in all directions, though it appeared that the thing was too big and was more likely to get stuck in there rather than help with getting out. The young man was not in the mood to give up though and kept at the activity for quite a while.

"What? An Umbarian prisoner has escaped?" he straightened up to look at his friend and rest for a bit. "Well, who knows - barrels might hold anything and anyone after all. You know..." He was about to tell Nal that it looked like there was no chance of him unlocking the door but he reconsidered remembering the former despair he had seen.

He took one of the parchments from Nal and glanced at it before he got down on all fours and tried to push it under the door. It seemed to work at least, even though the gap between the floor and the door was tiny. He pushed through a few more sheets and then got up.

"You know," he said again, and then on a whim struck the small window with the sharp end of the nail before he could think that causing damage to the guardhouse might land them in even more trouble.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Carpe Diem – Part 37



Unalmis Raxëlilta. The last day of Autumn (last year)
In the Guardhouse of the South Gate. With Cadil.

Cadil’s efforts at picking the lock, now that he had the tool he’d asked for, still seemed to be taking longer than this sort of thing ought to take. Although, with no real concept how to pick a lock himself, the impatience and concern might have easily come from a place of Nal’s slowly unravelling panic. Just as the time spent may have been more indicative of his friend’s reluctance to give up, than any hope of eventual success.

“Says so, on their duty record thing here,” the Ranger indicated the pad of parchment he’d torn his stack from. As though Cadil was not facing the other direction anyway. “All guards to be on particular lookout for ..” he recited and then halted. At the utter irony. That the Guard outside the gatehouse was meant to be n the lookout for escaped Umbarian prisoners. And he was out there, conversing merrily away with a rogue Umbarian … Unalmis blew air out of one side of his mouth, as Cadil straightened up from where he’d been working and their eyes met over a moment of slow breathing silence.


When his friend considered that people could be hid in barrels .. Nal managed a faint “Yeh ..” in response to the “You know ..”
He knew. All too well. He was fairly sure that the other young man knew more than he shared openly about it all as well.


Rather than break into any of that, Cadil duly accepted the papers which Nal had written upon. And began to stuff them under the door, as suggested. It was the clearest means of admitting that the lock situation had not improved regardless of all the work that had gone into picking it. Unalmis had just sunk back down onto the seat, and begun to think he ought to ask Cadil, if he would like to switch places a while .. when another “You know” erupted.

And although Unalmis had not known .. what his friend was about to resort to, he smiled all the same, in spite of himself. The window did not immediately shatter, although it demonstrably cracked. A jagged fracture crept out along the glass from the point of impact. It felt like a strike back against their stubborn circumstances. And Nal wet his lips as though he anticipated the gatehouse might fall apart around them. It did not.


Still. It was something. Even if the nail did not break the glass instantly, it was making more of an impression than anything had done upon the lock. Or the wooden door itself.

“Yes,” he responded again. This time, almost encouraging.

---

Arkadhur / ”Lowendir” . Undergoing an inspection of his ‘Goods’
Outside the South Gate, with ‘Lieutenant’ Ademar

As Ademar turned his attention toward checking in the barrels, Arkadhur subconsciously rubbed the back of his hand along the bottom of his nose, and sniffed. It was a long shot of a hope of course, that the dratted girl who’d walloped him in the face already, might manage to get in a blow against the smug Gondorian as well. But no one got knocked out. Unless the contents of the barrels already had managed to succumb to that themselves.

The Umbarian did his very best not to glance back to the forefront of the wagon, where he’d stowed the knife out of sight. Any guard who carried out a proper search of his transportation might have found the weapon. But the contents of the barrels were affording all of this guard’s interest. Just as he had known they would. In his mind, a count was carried out. How many steps would it take, if he required to get to the blade swiftly ? How many seconds would it take him ? How long would it take his nemesis to move toward thwarting him in the act ?


Arkadhur glanced up, calmly, as Ademar began remarking on what cargo he had identified. Bones, and coal .. the meaning of the petty namecalling and history was lost upon the man of Umbar. Still, he held taut to his will as the other liar went through the required motions. The two of them were of course aware that this was all a performance, and nobody else at hand was any the wiser. Nobody conscious anyway. Even the more defiant barrel rider was all quiet, so her captor released his breath, through his nose to be more subtle about his relief. The threat had worked then. Else she’d given up and gotten worn down by it all by now. It was working ..

The guard’s lighthearted suggestion though sent the foreigner toward a meagre slight of head. The gesture toward the nearby gatehouse was a clear indication that there was more ‘cargo’, awaiting transportation. And from the cloaked reference to ‘sacrifice’ and ‘worth’ .. there was little doubt what the Gondorian was implying.


It was tempting to instruct the Guard to hold his breath until Arkadhur chose to come back and take what he wished … but instead the Umbarian smiled disarmingly. “Really ? I mean, you strike me as the sort of fellow who could haul off a thing yourself, before ever I could come back for it,” he sidled, meaningfully. Whatever had happened to the now widow of the real Lowendir, .. maybe she was locked up in the gatehouse right in front of them .. it was clear that Ademar had taken the pains to amuse himself by relocating her. The man just could not help shifting the power of their play back into his corner .. no doubt in direct response to Arkadhur’s no-show at the dungeon the night before. The Umbarian watched the Guard jump down off the wagon’s back, and clear it.

Would he rise to it ? With this audience ? Had that comment been a push too far ?


“Unless you’ve got some candles aboard that wagon, you’d better get on your way, before it gets dark ..” The Guard’s suggestion was rather odd, but of course only half inaudible to anyone else who might have overheard it, as Ademar swung open the heavy South Gate. Arkadhur easily heard this final, pointed remark from where he was stood and he entirely understood it, of course. For the road, and the escape that it promised .. beckoned just beyond that gate. Brown eyes glanced in that direction almost greedily. And then the Umbarian climbed back up into his seat, waiting until he was properly through the gate, out of the Pelennor Fields, before he calmly lowered a hand to check for the knife bebeath his seat. Still in place.

Didn’t hurt to check ..


Arkadhur had not however heard the sharp knock which Cadil made with the nail, from the inside of the gatehouse window. He did not notice the pieces of parchment which had recently been urged under the very thin gap below the gatehouse door. He did not have a cause to turn and note the faint glimmer of the broach which Cali had thrust out of her barrel. The latter having managed to bounce carelessly off the back of the open wagon, and since then .. settled in the dust that the wheels kicked up.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Vorondil caught Duinion's question and gave a subtle cough. If Duinion had looked over to the Hyandaner then, the former would have noted the latter shaking his head minutely, to make it clear to his comrade that that was not the sort of question he should be asking this particular officer.

For her part, the Lieutenant seemed to ignore him as she had already taken the first few steps down before replying. In truth, Arnyn was not ignoring Duinion. She was frowning faintly, wondering at the reasons that had prompted Duinion's question. If she hadn't just seen nine men taking their own life, all at once, under the influence of a madman's brainwashing, she might have asked him. She might have asked him whether it was practicality, desensitization, mercy or a need for vengeance that prompted his question - or even something else. And he probably would have answered that a combination of several factored into his query. People were layered, shaped by their own experiences and their ideals - though the latter could suffer under overwhelming pressure of the former. She knew this - all too well.

"If we encounter more of them," she finally told Duinion quietly but firmly, "you will not kill them unless you need to. My orders have not changed." She halted on the steps, the light of the first torch now between them and flickering across her face as she looked back at the Tirdinen descending behind her. "Incapacitate." Her eyes met his for a moment, then she looked ahead of her again and continued down the steps. "We can discuss the why of it later." If he absolutely had to know. Though it might not be a bad thing for those rangers who didn't really know her that well yet, to learn what she thought of such things. The reason why the King had reacted the way he had, knowing her general stance on the matter, when she had asked for a few specific kill orders. They went entirely against everything she stood for. Pressure, indeed.

There was more light when they reached the end of the stairs. Arnyn's eyes widened when she saw endless shelves filled with boxes and crates, and stack upon stack of barrels. She hadn't been sure what to expect. This, however, took her aback. This operation was much larger than she would have guessed, based on Trevadir's information. She rubbed her free left hand over the lower part of her face.
"We stay together," was her response to his statement that there could be others down here. Seeing all of this, she would well expect there to be, yes. Her voice was low, hardly above a whisper as she motioned him towards a more shadowy area. "Think of it as using stealth when scouting," she tried to explain her expectations. "Reconnaissance - only... in a warehouse cave... instead of a forest."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

Duinion did glance toward Vorondil, but still thought it was a valid question. But the lieutenant's reply was clear enough and he gave no argument. "Yes, lieutenant." He agreed quietly, while following her down the stairs. He had no need to question further into the why. If she didn't feel the need to ask him why he asked, then why should he question her reply? They were all still learning about one another, at this point. Personally, Duinion would've rather taken these men alive for questioning, but since they would rather suffer a horrible death that looked tremendously painful.. then that was their choice, he supposed. Though it did leave him a bit frustrated that only those who were not dressed in the red and black clothing could be questioned. Yet, so far, it seemed that none of those men spoke the common tongue.

He gave a tiny nod when she said they should stay together. He quite agreed about that. As for moving into a shadowy area, he gave a tiny nod as he adjusted his grip on the string-less bow he carried. As they moved along in the shadow of a row of shelves holding crates filled with goods. He kept his ears alert, to compensate for the lack of light. About halfway along that aisle, he heard footsteps of someone walking along, just on the other side of the shelves. Duinion cautiously peered through the gap between some crates, and saw a man walking along, a few paces behind where they were.

He glanced back toward Arnyn, thinking fast. They had no idea how many others were here, nor how close they might be. So, it was best to try and knock this guy out without making a noise that could alert them. Duinion cautiously moved forward, timing his steps so that he would come around the corner of the shelving unit around the time the other man reached the end of it. As the man came into view, oblivious to the ranger's presence, Duinion swiftly hooked his 'staff' over his head and pulled it tight against his windpipe, gripping the bow on either side of the man's neck, so that he couldn't breathe. He waited until the man sagged against him, plus one more second, before releasing the pressure and lowering him silently to the ground. He was glad to see this guy was not in red and black, which he hoped meant he wasn't one of the crazy zealots.

Once they had secured the man and hid him where he wouldn't easily be found, Duinion and Arnyn moved further in, occasionally encountering other men, each of whom were knocked out or incapacitated in silence and stealth. By the time they had deemed the warehouse/cave cleared of foes, they ended up with six more red/black guys, and three of the others. He frowned at what appeared to be a holding cell at one corner of the warehouse, like a cage where criminals might be locked up. He debated asking whether they ought to lock up their prisoners there, but decided it might not be received well even as a joke. Besides, they didn't know where the key to the door might be. But it did trouble him to see such a device existing here, given what he knew of this operation. This was a place where people were trafficked out of Gondor.. and that seemed like proof.

After moving further into the warehouse while they explored, they came across a dock built at the edge of what appeared to be an underground pool that filled a portion at the far side of the cave. There were a couple of rowboats moored there. Duinion looked around, able to see by the light of lanterns hanging from posts at various intervals, obviously meant to create enough light for the men to work by. He could see to the far wall of the cave, but he could not see any way for the boats to exit.

"Strange," He muttered, wondering how they were supposed to get the cargo out. There had to be a way, right? He couldn't see anywhere for the boats to go, however.. because at the moment, the tide was high, and therefore, the tunnel that the smugglers used was covered by the water level. "What now?" He asked, turning to the lieutenant.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Arnyn appreciated the way Duinion took out the first man they encountered. As they explored the cave, as they explored the warehouse, the Lieutenant had once again sheathed her sword. It could not be used in stealth.

The two of them took down several others. The only moment the Lieutenant was genuinely startled was when one of the men in red and black suddenly appeared right in front of her - as if materializing through thin air, although in reality he had simply walked through an opening between the shelves that she had not spotted. He had moved as silently as Duinion and she were moving, and for a moment two sets of dark eyes widened in surprise as they locked on one another.

Quick as a cat, Arnyn slipped forward. She struck the side of the man's neck with her hand, slightly behind the jaw. Her arm was relaxed, the strike fuelled by the way she used her legs and hips to lend it the power needed to short-circuit his circulatory system. His lights went out and he collapsed. She couldn't quite catch him completely before he had partially fallen down already, causing minimal noise - but it was still sound. Arnyn and Duinion froze, listening for any sounds in return. But none came.

They worked well together as they moved through the space - quietly and undiscovered. The dock was interesting. The body of water didn't seem to be going anywhere. Arnyn peered at the walls, as if her stare might suddenly pierce through the walls by sheer force of her will. "Agreed," she mumbled, in reply to Duinion's muttered 'Strange'.
"There has to be a way out, though," she said stubbornly. It was only logical. "We just can't see it." And even though that frustrated her, the knowledge that there was a way - there had to be - was enough for her, for now. Maybe. At the Tirdinen's question of what to do next, the Lieutenant first responded only with silence, still staring at the walls around the water. They had tied up their adversaries down here, as well, with rope they had found on one of the shelves. A warehouse was convenient, in that regard. She wondered if the men in red and black would still off themselves if they could not see one another. She went over the options. They couldn't simply leave them here. Or they would either be set free or starve. And if the rangers took them, they would likely kill themselves once they realized what their comrades upstairs had done. If they did, though - that was their decision. Arnyn frowned.

The bigger question, though... was what to do with this entire place. Before coming here, she'd have been planning to leave it be, to somehow use it when the time came to draw the pirates to their trap. But at the time, she hadn't known the extent of this operation. She hadn't seen those cages. The Lieutenant briefly pinched the bridge of her nose. "What would you do now, Raedor?" she asked, gesturing around them. It would give her a glimpse into his thoughts, while she could arrange her own.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

"What would you do now, Raedor?"

The fact that she used that name brought a wry little smile to his face. He wondered if she knew the history of that becoming his second name. He somewhat doubted it, or she probably would not have asked that question. He still didn't see a way out, but turned his attention toward the lieutenant now. "I would turn this trap meant for us.. into a trap for them." He answered with a little shrug. Obviously, at least to his thinking.

"They meant to capture us, so surely they had somewhere in mind that they would have taken us after they managed it. Their ship, most likely.. I doubt this is the entire crew," He glanced around, his gaze landing on the last few red/black guys they had taken out. "Those tattoos indicate their ties with the Halsads. Dom told me he once encountered one of their ships, out in the North." He frowned thoughtfully, letting his memory go back to that story. "It was a large ship.. I don't know the exact number of their crew, but probably about fifty to sixty, I'd guess. Dom and another ranger sneaked aboard in disguise, dressed as the corsairs." He looked thoughtfully at the guy in red and black at that point. "Dressed.. much like that, in fact, from what he described. He was able to take out.. quite a few of them before they discovered him on board, I don't remember the number he said, but more than a dozen. And they still had more than enough men left to overwhelm him and.. well, if it hadn't been for the other ranger..." He swallowed, not wanting to go there.

"Anyway. Point is, there's more of these guys somewhere. And when these guys don't meet them at the appointed time, they might come here to see what's keeping them. Or, maybe, they've already got plans to meet here to collect the 'prize' these guys were supposed to secure." He considered the water again. "So, I think we ought to set up some sort of trap to capture the next ones to come here. Whether they're part of these guy's crew," He indicated the nearby unconscious red/black fellow, "or the other ones... the fewer of them roaming freely, the better. Right?"

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

A trap. But how would he mean to rig this trap? Wouldn't that either mean they would need to stay until the trap was sprung - or at the very least return here before even more of these people arrived?

"They could have held us here for days," she mumbled, thinking about the cages they saw. But it was true that those on the ship, wherever it was, would be expecting their fellows at a certain time and day. And if they did not come... The idea that they would have been taken alive and transported onto a Halsad ship, made ice claw down her spine. Vorondil. Sarina. Duinion. Arnyn gritted her teeth. A cool head, she told herself.

If it was a Halsad ship... and it couldn't be Keket's, since that one had been sent to the depths, then it would either be Uhta's... or Matsu's, if he was still alive and around once more. Did Pharak have one? She couldn't quite remember if she knew, at the moment. The Lieutenant drew a slow, deep breath into her lungs.

"I do agree," she nodded. "But how long should we wait here?" she pondered out loud, not bothering to think in silence. "Sarina and Vorondil still have live prisoners up there. We have others down here. There is an entrance up there - with a risk of more of them coming in that way." Her eyes returned to the water. "And there is an entrance down here. How would you set up this trap? I don't want the four of us to get caught in between two fronts, so to speak."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor with Lt Arnyn
and Rangers Vorondil & Sarina
September 3rd
Harlond - At the Chandlery

The lieutenant's mumbled words were not the most welcome. Duinion closed his eyes as he drew in a deep breath, trying his best to shut out the thought those words had invoked. Trapped for days.. down here. In the dark. He swallowed and let out his breath slowly, forcing himself to think about traps, and how to manage one in a place such as this.

Finding the tools and materials to make something shouldn't be a problem, given all the stuff around the warehouse. He hadn't taken an extensive look around, but he figured there was just about anything they could want, here. And many things they didn't want here. Black market type things, he figured. Stolen goods. Illegal stuff.

When she asked how he would go about setting up this trap, Duinion didn't immediately have an answer to that. But he did know one thing... "It should be the type that doesn't require babysitting," He muttered. Because he was most definitely not willing to wait around here for an unknown amount of time, just in case someone actually came. Which would mean that someone would need to regularly check on it, he realized. But then, for all he knew, it could be days or even months before anyone fell into the trap.. whatever it was.

Then there was that. How could they do this? "Hard to say, without knowing how they get in and out.." He rubbed a hand over his face, staring around. Perhaps there was a false portion of wall? It all looked like stone to him, but.. who knows? He walked as far as he could go on the dock, as far as some steps at the far end that disappeared into the water, trying to see across to the farthest walls. He couldn't detect anything that looked like a fake wall. Maybe the boats here were just a red herring? He turned his attention elsewhere. There were handcarts for loading the barrels and crates, which the workers would presumably use to load/unload the goods from wherever they came from. Duinion went to where the wooden dock met with the dirt 'road' going up to where the shelves of goods. There were tracks from wheels and a mixture of men's shoes, like he would expect to see. Theirs overlaid them, but it was evident that this was where they had done their loading and unloading. So.. what were they missing?

Duinion couldn't help wondering if maybe he was just not thinking clearly, due to the.. particular surroundings he was in. He was not very comfortable, with the dim light and all. But it was helpful to have someone else there.. plus, the lanterns made it easier. But he was still acutely aware that they were very far underground, and that.. if the shelf thing at the top of the stairs were to close, he'd have no idea until he tried to leave. And he was not finding another way out.. which was making him feel a bit anxious.

Suddenly, one part of the puzzle clicked. "First," He turned to Arnyn, "We could disable the mechanism that activates that shelf thing up there," he mentioned. "If I take a look at it, I'm sure I could figure out how to do that.. that would sever their access to the place, one way or another." He mentioned. "If they come from the chandlery, trying to get down here, they wouldn't be able to. So then they would have to go in through the other access.. whatever that is." He shrugged.

"Like.. when you're laying a trap for an animal or something in the woods, you create obstacles on either side of the path to channel them in the way you want them to go, so that they have to approach your trap the way you want them to, if they want to get the bait that you put there. Right? So, if we prevent these corsairs from getting down here from up there," He pointed up, "then they'd have to come from.." He vaguely motioned toward the boats. "However they get in here from the water." There were pieces of the plan missing still, but he paused there to see how she thought of the plan so far.. or if he was missing something obvious.

[Rillewen]

(private)

|
September 3rd - midmorning
Harlond - Dev's ship, sailing away from the Chandlery
(several hours before the rangers arrived in Harlond)

After getting Mar’s arms bandaged, the two had set off to conduct their discussion in Dev’s quarters while the crew got the ship underway. It took some time, but they eventually settled on arrangements that worked for them both. Dev took out a quill and ink and wrote a note to Uhta, which he attached to Ningaear’s leg, and then sent her to find Uhta and deliver this message. The bird flew off dutifully. Dev watched her for a moment before turning back to Mar.

“There is one more thing, Naluthor.” Dev mentioned. “I think you’ll agree to these terms..” He smiled.

“What, more?” Mar’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve recently received word that my son will be in Lond Col. Apparently, he’s attending the very same joust tournament which you mentioned. It’s rather big news all about the kingdom.”

“Indeed… it is.” Mar frowned. “Wait. Which one?”

“Which do you think?”

Mar stared at him with a frown for a moment. “Not..Trevadir?”

“The very same.”

“He’s not still with you?” Mar asked, surprised by this news.

“No. Not for nearly a year now.” Dev scowled. “But I plan to remedy that as soon as possible. And that’s what I want your aid for.”

Mar frowned slightly. “He’d recognize me a mile away. And he’d never trust me for any sort of deception.” He laughed. “Just what do you expect me to do?”

“Well, perhaps you and I can put our heads together to think of some way to bring him to me. But whatever happens, I want him back.” Dev insisted. “I don’t care how it happens, but I need him. Alive.” He added the last part emphatically.

Mar let out a long sigh. “Alive is always the tricky part.” He muttered, annoyed. “And what exactly do you need him for? I thought you’d given up on the sacrifice idea? I was so very fond of that plan, too.” He added remorsefully, nearly sulking about it.

“I have.” Dev waved a hand dismissively. “But I’ve found another use for him. Except.. well, for it to work, I need him alive. At least, until his usefulness is over.”

“Well,” Mar leaned against the wall near him. “Will it at least involve his suffering, eventually?”

Dev shrugged. “I suppose it will. Eventually. I don’t really care what happens to him once I have what I need. I figured on giving the rest of him to Keket.”

Mar considered the man thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded with a slow smile. “Well, in that case,” He grinned. “I would be happy to help you, captain.”

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
With Tirdinen Duinion Raedor & Rangers Vorondil and Sarina
Harlond, September 3rd

Just like her, Duinion seemed to be thinking out loud. That was good. Maybe they could help each other along.

Even with a trap that wouldn't require someone to stay down here, though, it would still require a group to investigate daily. And that was not an extra task she really wanted to take onto the rest of her duties. On the other hand, she knew she would not want to unburden it onto others completely, either. Mentally, Arnyn sighed as her eyes watched the water. Maybe Tercen was right when he said I needed to learn to let things go, sometimes.

Listening to Duinion's idea, Arnyn frowned slightly. "If the entrance through the chandlery were to become unusable, that also means that we would have to come in here to check on the trap through the other entrance," she thought along, out loud as well. "Depending on how that entrance works... that would might present logistical difficulties." How far around would they need to go? How much time would it take? Would it even be possible for her to tag along with a daily group to come and investigate this trap, if it would take a long time to only just get in and get out again?

The play of light on the water within the cave was mesmerizing, in a way.

"Would disabling the mechanism really keep someone out who is stubborn - and violent - enough? Couldn't someone hack through that display table with an axe?"

She breathed out with sudden disbelief. "Ulmo's crown," she muttered as her eyes locked on something. "Duinion..." After getting his attention, she gestured toward the wall of uneven rock that held her stare. Where an opening was starting to stand out. Her words still came in low. "The tide..." How had neither of them considered that?