Ithilien, Harondor, The Eastern Fiefdoms (Free RP)

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

From his spot in the fallen tree, Duinion watched the young man like a hawk. He couldn't see as well as he would have liked, but he saw when he headed for the door. It seemed more and more likely that he was definitely following Firdaus and company. Duinion frowned, his suspicions increasing. Once the stranger wasn't watching through the window, Duinion eased himself down from his hiding spot, and moved slowly and stealthily after him, keeping himself hidden by trees and underbrush. Even without his suspicious activity inside the inn, seeing the man lurking around the merchant's wagon was enough to vanish any further doubts about the stranger. He was definitely up to no good.

Crouching behind some bushes, the ranger observed the young boy servant set off to find Firdaus, but his attention remained fixed upon the suspect, who had decided to follow the boy. He was now moving in the direction of the rest of the group, where Pele was. Duinion paused briefly, thinking of what he ought to do. Pele ought to have some warning, he thought, though he felt it would be too obvious to find her and get close enough to whisper to her, and relay to her all that he had observed. Instead, he paused to shape his lips in a well-practiced manner, and let out a very bird-like sound that should blend with the other sounds of the outdoors... to all except, hopefully, Pele. He hoped she would recognize that the sound was made by him, not a real bird. After a brief pause, he repeated it, and hoped the ranger Captain would know to be watchful for the stranger.

But where did he go? Duinion paused, scanning the shadowy area where the man had disappeared. It took him a second to spot the man's movement, now by the far corner of the inn. Duinion watched as he started climbing up onto the roof. Why? Duinion's frown deepened, and he decided that was not a good sign. Assassin? It was possible, he thought to himself, with some concern. What sort of people had Firdaus gotten himself involved with?

Careful to keep his movements stealthy, yet with as much haste as he dared, Duinion traversed his way back the way he had come, keeping a few yards into the woods, til he was back at the place where he had hidden earlier. He remembered having noticed a tree there, growing near the inn. With his bow secured to his back, he swiftly climbed up the tree and onto the roof, on the opposite side of the inn from where the stranger had climbed. From there, he took his bow in hand and set off across the roof, his steps soft and careful, avoiding any loose-looking shingles, taking great care not to make any noise as he moved. Peering over the peak of the roof, Duinion spotted the man right about where he had expected, having gotten up to the roof ahead of Duinion. And he had a bow now. It appeared that he was indeed an assassin or something similar, but who was his target?

Regardless of whom he intended to use that bow on, Duinion intended to prevent him from using it. Continuing forward with all stealth, he paused to glance around every couple of steps, to reassure himself there weren't any other enemies lurking around to spring out at him while he was focused on this one. So far, it appeared to be just the one, but he didn't want to rule out the possibility of others. He already had an arrow on his string, ready to draw and fire in one swift motion if necessary, but only if necessary. He moved carefully forward, unsure how close he could get without the man noticing him. He hoped to get within a couple of yards, at least, hoping he would be so focused on those on the ground that he wouldn't hear the ranger coming up behind him. But if the man were to notice him prematurely, Duinion was prepared for that too, and would give the same order either way. "Don't bother grabbing an arrow," He spoke quietly so as not to draw any attention from those down below. "I strongly suggest that you toss that bow off to your right. And the quiver, to the left, out of reach." He added, hoping the man would comply peacefully, rather than trying to rush him and fight, or anything like that.

Duinion was mildly aware that he probably looked a strange sight, with mud, leaves, and moss plastered onto his face, but the bow in his hands, arrow ready on the string, ought to be enough to make the statement he wanted to make; I can definitely fire my arrow before you can get yours out of the quiver. Underneath the mud, a stern frown showed on his face, giving a moment's pause to see how the stranger would react to his words. It would be nice if he could get a few answers as to what he hoped to accomplish with that bow, and who had sent him, and so on.. and preferably without disturbing the merchant's transaction down below.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
Merchant Escort


Dagen

Once the bow was strung, he glanced over the roof and then focused on his targets. His instructions had been clear: if the merchant would not listen to words, then this time the warning would need to be made in blood.

Dagen's hand started to move for his quiver, but then he frowned and looked over his shoulder. The sight of a man with dirt and leaves on his face (Duinion), took him by surprise. The stranger was still a few yards removed, but he had an arrow at the ready - nocked if perhaps not yet fully drawn. A frown settled on Dagen's face. Giving up his bow went against his instincts, yet he remembered the training he'd received and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"And if I choose not to?" he replied in the same quiet tone. His voice was almost eerily calm.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Arnyn
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



The two men took their time to discuss the best price for the fabrics Mardan had brought, until they eventually settled for eighteen pieces of gold. Even though Firdaus felt that he should have been granted a lower price, he saw that it was unlikely and that the other man was ready to withdraw from business if the price was any less. "Fine. Eighteen," he agreed with a deep sigh. "I can buy what you have brought off of you, though we should discuss the terms for future supply."

One of his servants approached then, one of the youngest he had in his service, asking if he wanted anything. "Don't you see that I am in the middle of transaction..." he began scolding the lad, but then reconsidered. He could have asked for wine, but the business was not concluded fully yet, so it was a bit early for celebration. "Bring some flavoured water and cups," he said, supposing that perhaps the others would not mind refreshment to ward off the warmth of the day.

"There can be no talk of discounts for at least the last two resupplies," Mardan set out his terms when Firdaus turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

Seeing that Hirilfael had also moved closer, Firdaus let his hand run over the nearest roll of fabric as if he was caressing it. "What do you think, m'lady? Worth the price, yes?"

~~~~~


Pele found that even though they were all outdoors now, she was still quite some distance removed and could not oversee everything, nor hear what the group were talking about. She assumed it was about the goods, though, as she watched the gestures of the two men.

Then, a call reached her; it seemed like a bird's, and yet it somehow did not quite fit into the environment. Pele glanced into the direction she had come from and found that Duinion had not followed her, but neither could she see his last position from here. When the repeated call sounded, she figured it did come from that direction, and it made her frown, as she grew suspicious.

She could not guess whether it meant that there was some sort of danger threatening Firdaus and company, or if their position had been discovered by unfriendly eyes. At any rate, something was holding him back, and that something was serious enough to repeat the warning. Pele looked back at the group and found that one of Firdaus' servants had joined them - yet she could not spot any danger in the fact. Just to make sure, she lowered herself even more, and turned slightly to look around her own immediate environment for any danger before turning back to watch the group. She felt the need to have some weapon in hand in response to the calls, yet she was not sure whether she would need the bow to attack from a distance or something for close quarters as she did not see the source of possible danger.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

The calmness in the stranger's voice told Duinion far more than anything else. Unless he was very wrong, the man was a pro. Though he appeared young, he was clearly well trained in his field. But so was Duinion, in his own field. "I can assure you," he spoke just as calmly, "I can get this arrow into you well before you can get any of yours out of that quiver." His own eyes narrowed slightly, watching for any sudden moves, prepared to shoot if he was forced to. He couldn't be sure of what the stranger might do, but he didn't want to be caught by surprise. And besides, he wanted to be sure he could back up what he'd just said, so he wanted to be alert for anything the man might try.

The thing that puzzled him, really, was who the intended target might be. Was he hoping to shoot Firdaus, or the man Firdaus was talking with? Had the stranger spotted Pele, and had intended to take out the protection Firdaus had hired? Or was the supposed Noble-Lady the target, for some reason he couldn't think of? He didn't want to spend too much time puzzling over all that, though. "I don't know what you intended to do with that bow, but I intend to keep you from accomplishing your goal, whatever it was." He informed the man, keeping the same calm, quiet tone. Whoever the intended target was, he hoped they were safe now.. unless there were others working with him.

The quicker Duinion could get this threat neutralized, the better he'd feel about it, and could keep an eye out for any others. But first he had to deal with him. "Now, toss them aside, and sit down with your hands spread out on the roof behind you," He frowned, trying to convey that he was serious. "Don't make me tell you again." How strange that phrase sounded, being addressed to someone who was not his daughter, he couldn't help thinking inwardly.

[Arnyn]

@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen
Merchant Escort


Kaylin as Hirilfael --- Dagen

Kaylin noted Firdaus was not happy with his servant's question, which she had found a sign of uncanny devotion. Did Firdaus pay that well? Or did the boy simply have such a great sense of responsibility? Or servitude? She shrugged it off right as Firdaus changed his mind and asked for water and cups. Hirilfael nodded with approval at the merchant's decision. It was warm, and her clothes were warm enough due to the layers, despite the summer fabrics. When she was asked for her opinion, she cast a look at the fabrics. Assuming Firdaus knew his trade, and that he would only dish out that much coin for truly splendid wares, she gave a minute nod. "They do look exquisite." She gave Mardan a gauging look, as she was trying to decide whether or not she trusted him. "You are a middle man? You buy them from the makers but are not involved in making them yourself? And if so, how do you know you can vouch for their quality?"

Dagen assessed the man in front of him. He remained composed, unphased by Dagen's question. The man was sure of himself. But so was Dagen. He knew what happened to the people who disappointed his employer. It would be worse than whatever this man would do to him. The dirt-covered man had the look of an official - despite the leaves and the mud on his face. At least, he spoke like one of the good guys. And one of the good guys would not kill him outright. He would shoot to keep Dagen from attaining his goal, perhaps, yes. But not to kill. When a good guy killed, it required explanations... justification.

He was still facing his target, having looked over his shoulder to spot the man coming up behind him. The bow was still at the ready. All he needed was to take an arrow, draw, aim and release. Dagen calculated his odds.
What if he decided to still take his shot? Odds were that the official's arrow would hit him sometime in between reaching for the arrow and aiming. That meant he might still have a window for his release. If he failed, he would be shot, imprisoned most likely, somewhere between here and Minas Tirith, or in the city itself. If word travelled that he had remained loyal to the last, he might be busted out from prison. Or he might be allowed to live in his cell.
If he decided to listen to the official and not take the shot? He would not get hit by an arrow, that is true. Officials were true to their word. But his employer would find out that he abandoned his task. One way or the other, the man would find out. And Dagen would still be imprisoned for his intended crime, he supposed. In which case he would not live. Cell or not. They would find him.

"I won't make you tell me again," he said simply, even as his hand completed its earlier movement to take a bunch of arrows from his quiver and quickly toss them behind him at Duinion. He swiftly moved to grab another, nock it on his bow, aim and...

A muted clattering somewhere behind them, made Kaylin turn around, slightly stressed about what she had missed. Meanwhile, Mardan, who was standing but a few steps away, let out a gasp and a moan. Her grey-blue eyes were travelling back to the man even as Firdaus let out a wail.

MELKOR'S PITS, WHERE WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO LOOK FIRST?

Distressed, she focused on Firdaus first and foremost, and saw him clutching his side. The boy servant had plunged a knife into his master, and was pulling it back with crazy eyes. Kaylin dropped her noble lady act instantly, slid one foot over the ground toward Firdaus and the servant, thanking the Valar she had already approached to be as close as she was, deftly grabbed the boy's wrist right before the knife disappeared back into Firdaus' robes and person, and wrested it from his hand. He was not nearly as strong as she was, nor as versed in combat, so it was surprisingly easy. The only advantages the boy had had, were surprise and speed.

Kaylin twisted the boy's arm behind his back and grabbed his free arm. "Pele!" she called out. "We can use your skills out here!" Firdaus' layers of fat might have shielded him from the worst, and it had looked like a side wound... but she couldn't tell while holding the boy, and she was taking no chances.

Kaylin looked back at Mardan, and was startled to see two arrows sticking out of the man - even more so because the arrows had come from different directions. Mardan was staring at the one just below his ribcage. Kaylin swore loudly as she dragged the boy to a crouching position on the side of the cart where she judged they were safest from the archers (judging from the angles Mardan had been hit). "HOLD!" she yelled out quickly. "DON'T COME OUT!" She couldn't let Pele or Duinion close while there were archers who could pick them off.

"Get over here, you idiots!" she snapped at Mardan as well as Firdaus. She couldn't tell how either of them were doing from her current position, because she didn't want her head to get skewered by another arrow by chancing a look over the cart. Kaylin sighed and slightly shook the boy she was holding in front of her. "What did you just do?! What were you thinking?!" She never liked crime, but she liked it even less when people involved kids. That was just a whole other level of wrong.

Meanwhile, Pele would catch movements in the greenery, not that far to her right...

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

The man tossed a handful of arrows toward him, which was not what Duinion had said to do. And he didn't toss the bow either, as Duinion had told him to do. He frowned at this, hesitating just a second, then saw that he'd grabbed another arrow, putting it onto his string. Just as promised, Duinion's arrow flew from his bow, speeding through the air toward the other man. Duinion had aimed for his right hand, or wrist, hoping to incapacitate him, or at least throw off his aim as much as possible. Hopefully, this would prevent him from firing at all, but if nothing else, it would make him unable to use his hand after this, if Duinion's aim wasn't off, or if the man didn't move suddenly. Since he was trying to take a shot, the man could hardly move without messing up his own aim, however.

The moment Duinion's arrow had left the string, Duinion dropped his own bow and leaped toward the man, closing the gap between them as fast as he could. He heard a slight commotion going on below, and didn't know where the man's arrow might have gone, or if there were more attackers that he had missed, not even if he had hit his own mark. Whatever else happened, he was focused on taking out this threat right now. He reached out to grab.. something, whatever he could; an arm, a shoulder, a collar, even a handful of hair if that's what he caught hold of... but something. At the same time, his other hand drew out one of his daggers, flipping it around while in motion, and aimed a strike toward the man's head with the solid butt end of the handle, in an attempt to render him unconscious.

Duinion was rather annoyed... at himself, for giving the man any chance to try taking a shot in the first place, but also at the man for taking that chance. His blow might have been a bit heavy, as a result, so if it landed, the man was sure to have a headache even if it didn't knock him out. If the first blow didn't do the job, he would strike again, and was prepared for further combat if necessary, but he wanted to get his adversary knocked out quickly, so Duinion could see what else was happening and, hopefully, be of further assistance to his companions. He heard Kaylin yelling to Pele, and then telling her to hold, and not come out. Where did that arrow go? Were there others firing? If there were other attackers, he hoped to keep them from knowing he was up here. He'd have a pretty good vantage point up here, and might be able to take them out before they hurt anyone.. if they hadn't already.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
Merchant Escort


Dagen

He'd abruptly moved a few inches to the left while aiming and before releasing his arrow. Dagen had no way of knowing whether that was the right call, but it was a decision that gave him a chance. And a chance was better than none. He felt an arrow zipping right past him just before his own arrow cleared the bowstring. And then a hand grabbed his right shoulder and pulled at him. It was upsetting his balance and Dagen was just about to whip his bow around, intending to hit the stranger across the head, when something hard painfully slammed into his own head and made his vision blur with thousands of black and then white dots.

Not unconscious, but with his vision blurred, he wasted no more than a heartbeat before he viciously whirled the bow toward where he thought the stranger had to be. He didn't care if the bow got damaged - he had others, and no preference between them. Weapons were tools, not precious belongings.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

His arrow missed, somehow, which was annoying to say the least. It would have been far more satisfying to have maimed the assassin's hand, as a sort of consequence for not doing as he was told, and to ensure he wouldn't be able to use any weapons again for a long time, at least, if ever. As it was, Duinion had no idea where the arrow had gone and could have kicked himself for letting it even leave the enemy's bow. But he didn't take the time to think about any of that, as he was still not completely 'dealt with'. The blow seemed to have stunned him, but Duinion felt the man continuing to struggle.

Trying to finish the job before the stunned-ness wore off, Duinion snaked an arm around the man's throat from behind, and grasped his own wrist, pulling his arm up tight against the other's throat, making sure to put pressure in just the right spot so as to cut off the airway. He'd only need to hold that for a few seconds before the enemy would pass out, but no longer. He wanted to be able to question him later, but also to not have to worry about him causing more trouble. He felt a blow to his side, but it hardly hurt. He'd had worse blows as a child getting into fights with bullies. It certainly wasn't enough to make him break his grip, knowing that if he did that, he'd lose his advantage. Though he was anxious to check on the others and see what damage had been done down there, he didn't dare do that until this threat was neutralized in some way.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Arnyn
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

"No, m'lady, I do not make any fabric myself," Mardan began to answer the questions which he found rather reasonable in this case. "Yet I personally test the quality of all the fabric I accept, and if it doesn't... ahhh!" His explanations had been cut short by an arrow that had struck him right under the ribs, followed a moment later by another striking him on the right side of his chest. He stood, startled and staring at the arrow, and when he finally attempted to move the pain overwhelmed him, and he fell. His hand tried to grasp the side of the cart desperately but failed, and he hit the ground on his back.

Firdaus had intended to turn away from the boy dismissively expecting him to do his bidding right away, and it might have been to his benefit as the knife dug into his side rather than his belly.

"You little piece of filth!" he wailed, clutching at his side and staring at the blood seeping through his clothes and between his fingers. As Hirilfael got straight into action and caught the boy before he could stab again, the fat merchant wondered at her quick reactions and skills, though there was not much time for it presently. He had to save his skin, first and foremost. Ignoring the bit about idiots, he found himself going down on all fours to get out of line of any arrows and crawling over to where the lady and the lad were, leaving bloodied marks behind him from the hand he had pressed over the wound.

When he reached them, he sad down huffing from exertion and rested his back against the cart as he pressed the hand over the wound once again. "You little piece of filth!" he muttered again breathlessly, as he contemplated taking revenge on the boy for this and for all the troubles that were not even his fault.

While Pele had missed the shooting of arrows while she had taken a look around, she could clearly see that some sort of attack had taken place by how the participants of the small meeting had scattered and gone into hiding. She was about to rush forward and provide any assistance necessary, when she almost simultaneously heard Kaylin's second call and saw something move on her right with a corner of her eye.

Remaining as still as possible, she looked into the greenery to try and see whoever was hiding there. It could not be Duinion as he would have let her know that he was nearby. Soundlessly and slowly Pele moved her hand for the dagger avoiding any sudden movements and trying to make sure that the drawn blade would not reflect sunlight. Unwilling to give up her own position in the case whoever was hiding so close to her had not spotted her yet, she watched the suspicious location in hopes of figuring out who it was. Pele's focus was now mainly on the greenery, as she waited and held off from springing into an attack before she could determine whether she was placed next to a foe or a friend. Her body tensed, as she prepared to cross the short distance and take out the possible enemy before they could add to the harm which was already done.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
@Pele Alarion
Merchant Escort


Kaylin as Hirilfael --- Dagen

Before Dagan's vision returned, he felt an arm around his neck. Too late to do anything about it, he knew he only had seconds. With his free right hand, he tried aiming a punch at the stranger's (Duinion's) head - preferably his face - but as his movement began, he already felt himself slipping away into unconsciousness.

Kaylin was annoyed at the way Firdaus was talking to the boy. To be fair, the boy had just stabbed him... Yes, well.
"I will have no more violence between you two," she ordered, looking more to Firdaus than the boy, since she had the boy restrained. Part of her guise returned in her speech pattern, although it wasn't a conscious choice at the moment. It was not as if it was required of her any longer to keep up the charade. "I have him restrained and he can no longer hurt you, at least. I would remind you, Master Firdaus, any act of aggression you might perform now will notbe considered self-defence." She wanted to peer around the cart to get a look at Mardan, but it was difficult whilst keeping a secure grip on the boy. "Mardan!" she called out, wanting to check on him. If the man was still alive. Kaylin glanced at Firdaus. At least he had managed to follow. He would probably be alright, if his wound could be tended to.

Cursing mentally, she thought of whether she had anything to restrain the boy with. They were all too close together for her to want to release the boy, but... Kaylin sighed. "You are not to move," she instructed the boy quietly, next to his ear. He nodded, seemingly overwhelmed by the situation, but Kaylin was prepared for it to be an act. She kept his one arm twisted behind his back, but released his other shoulder to pull up part of her dress and untie a long ribbon around her boot. She then used it to bind the boys hands together behind his back, and gently pushed him to sit with his back against the cart, next to Firdaus. "Do I need to tie your feet, as well?" she threatened, but the boy shook his head with some alarm. That was good. She wanted him to be able to run with them, if need be.

After a lingering look at the boy, Kaylin shifted her eyes to Firdaus. "Let me take a look at that wound - but don't lessen your pressure on it with your hand. I want to get a sense of how bad it is." While she wasn't a pro like Pele, at least she could try and do something. See more clearly where it was located, whether it was just the one or multiple entries, perhaps - everything had happened so fast. Kaylin knew the ribbon around her other boot would not suffice as a bandage. And while they had plenty of fabric available to them on the cart they were hiding behind, she didn't at present want to get up and risk getting pierced by arrows, like Mardan.
"We will need to keep pressure on it, somehow," she told Firdaus. "So you can get your hands free." She pulled a dagger and started ripping into one of Firdaus' fancy clothing layers.

The person in the greenery not far away from Pele, moved. Unaware of the Captain's presence, the woman moved forward a bit, trying to estimate whether her target had been eliminated - or was simply wounded. She hooked her bow onto the quiver on her back, using just one hand and the precision that came from a long habit, and drew the long knife at her hip. Since she could no longer get a clear shot at her target, she might need to finish him off in close proximity.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

He sighed softly in relief as he felt the man sag against him. He waited a second or two, just to be sure he wasn't faking, and then cautiously released the man. Now, what to do with him? He was sure to wake up in a few minutes, and Duinion didn't dare leave the man free to attack him while he was focused elsewhere. After a moment's thought, Duinion checked to see if he had a belt, and smiled to find one. It was long enough for what he needed, and so in no time he had the belt in hand, and his defeated foe rolled onto his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back. Trying to be swift, the ranger bound the man's wrists tightly with his own belt, and took a moment to check him over for any weapons, removing any that he found so that he couldn't somehow cut himself loose.

Once he was satisfied that the assassin should not be able to get free, Duinion retrieved his bow from where he had dropped it, and crouched down low to the roof, inching his way stealthily toward the edge, where he lay down flat, so he could see without being so easily seen, himself. Carefully, he peered down, trying to assess the situation. The mud felt stiff on his face as he frowned, observing that the supplier had been shot twice in the chest. But had one of those arrows come from this guy? They appeared too well-aimed, Duinion thought, and he felt fairly confident that unless he was outstandingly good, the man couldn't have had time to properly aim, even if he hadn't moved suddenly just before taking the shot. Hopefully, that arrow had gone off into the woods, harmless to all but the trees. Otherwise, the level of skill might even surpass his own, which was even more concerning to him.

He couldn't see Pele, but he could hear Kaylin, and could just see Firdaus' feet, which told him they were crouching or sitting behind that cart, but Duinion's angle prevented him from seeing the rest of them. At least he knew where they were, and that they were relatively safe. They were alive, at the very least. With that established, he turned his gaze toward trying to follow the probable trajectory of those arrows, seeking the source. Unfortunately, the man had crumbled to the ground since getting shot, and Duinion hadn't seen the actual shots taking place, being busy with this other guy, so where they had come from was difficult to guess.

And what about Pele? He had heard Kaylin yell for her, but saw no sign of the captain. Either she was staying hidden, or..he didn't want to give thought to any other options. And wherever she was, he realized she might be wondering the same questions about him, seeing as he had sort of disappeared from her. He hesitated, thinking for a moment, before making a decision. Hoping it wasn't a mistake that might draw the enemy's attention rather than Pele's, he gave another birdcall, the same as he had done before, only a little quieter. With any luck, she would hear it and be able to estimate his location, while their enemies wouldn't give the sound any thought. After that, he focused on scanning the depths of the woods, looking for anything that moved, or wasn't part of the forest, such as a person. He kept his bow turned sideways, in such a way that he could be ready to shoot if necessary, and already had an arrow nocked on his string.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn ; @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

Violence? Doing something along those lines was far from Firdaus' mind. Looking down at his bloodied side he thought it was the end of him, and he feared to move beyond the bare necessity, let alone punish the boy no matter how much he wanted to. "I'm going to die!" he kept wailing, and then - as Lady Hirielfael took to cutting up his clothing: "Oh, but my expensive robes!" He fell silent for a while though, realising that his garments were ruined anyway, seeing that the boy's knife had already torn through, and now there was blood on it. A faint groan from Mardan reached them during the brief silence, and Firdaus spoke again: "Think he is not good. But if he dies, I will have no supplier! Oh, my poor business!"

Then his complaints subsided, as he regarded the lady suspiciously: "Who are you though? Really? For you are surely not who you said you are."

In the forest, Pele waited and watched, until the other party moved so that she could now see in part that it was definitely not Duinion. She wondered if the woman had done something to him while he was on the way, but the same bird call she had associated with him reached her and alleviated her concern. The captain looked out from her hiding spot but could not see him; and she definitely could not respond.

After a moment of doubt and waiting for her to put the bow away, she moved swiftly towards the other woman, hoping to use the moment of surprise for her benefit. Pele made to position herself behind the stranger, switching her dagger into her left hand and hoping to wrap her arm around the woman to press the blade against her throat, while she would aim to grab her right wrist to immobilise it.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
@Pele Alarion
Merchant Escort

--- --- ...
Kaylin as Hirilfael --- Dagen --- a woman in the greenery

Kaylin ignored Firdaus' complaints. She was about a minute or two removed from smacking him in the face and telling him to be quiet. She was relieved when his childish wailing stopped and he got suspicious. But the greatest relief came when Mardan groaned from the other side of the cart. At Firdaus' question, she shrugged. "Why should I be anyone else?" she said, amusing herself in an attempt to make light of a serious situation and distract herself. "Hirilfael of House Luinamath, whose noble father taught his daughter valuable life skills?" Never mind that she had dropped the accent from the moment she'd realized Mardan had been shot. Had Firdaus even noticed as much?

"There is no time to check and clean it now," she told him. "But the female Ranger who has accompanied you is a healer. I know she is closeby. Once it is safe enough, she can take better care of you. Now stop your incessant whining and let me tie this around you as some sort of pressure bandage." She looked at his slumped form. "And sit up! Or it will just sag the moment you move." With all of his fat... Kaylin shook her head. And then she would need to assess Mardan's situation. Somehow.

The woman between the trees was slowly stepping forward, not that far removed anymore from the edge of the trees and shrubs, when suddenly she felt movement behind her. Not just behind her - against her - around her neck - on her wrist. She jerked her wrist up in surprise and instantly tried to wedge her left arm, wrist, hand - anything - in between her own neck and whoever's arm that was. Pele grabbed her wrist, aided by the element of surprise, but the woman managed to slip her right forearm in between Pele's off-hand and her own neck, and push the dagger away. Yet she did not have the reflexes to grab at the weapon.

Despite that, however, she turned around to her right, trying to turn her right wrist away and out of Pele's grasp. Her left hand went for the small knife at the belt that kept her quiver tied to her torso. It was a knife meant for practical things rather than a fight, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

On the roof, Dagen was regaining consciousness. He made no sound, having been taught to wake in silence, always. Yet he found his hands were tied , tightly so, and he was on his stomach. Not moving much, he tried to get his bearings first, and located the stranger responsible for his current condition near the edge of the roof.
The urge to try and push the man off, overwhelmed Dagen. He gritted his teeth. Rather than get his revenge for being knocked unconscious, however, he would be better off trying to make a run for it. He tested his hands. Tight indeed. And... Dagen frowned. Leather? He wouldn't get out of that bind fast. And climbing off a roof without hands was, admittedly, beyond him. He could get to the lowest part of the roof, and jump down one floor, though.

Carefully, he watched Duinion, who seemed very busy trying to get an idea of the situation below. Dagen slowly moved onto his side, preparing to get to his feet, and then run.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn ; @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



"It's like... you've always handled situations like this," Firdaus did not relent, though he obeyed and straightened himself up as much as he could, wincing with the pain the movement caused him. "Do all wealthy families know such things in Dol Amroth?" As it were, he was never taught to handle much more than business and merchandise, and even then his negotiations were not always successful no matter how skilled he thought himself to be. But it had never occurred to him that anything like this could ever happen, and he was caught completely unprepared. At any rate, it seemed to him that Hirilfael was the only one capable to handle the matters with great determination.

"But I thought... the Rangers remained back in the centre of the village in search of lunch, didn't they?" he glanced at Hirilfael thoughtfully. He did not take it lightly when people did not carry out his orders and did not run to fulfil his every whim. However, in this case it would perhaps be a good thing, considering his condition.



Pele held on tight to the woman's wrist and turned with her, trying to remain behind her back and as close to her as possible.

"Drop your weapons," she ordered, though expecting that the woman would not do as told. "If you know what's good for you."

While she had not seen the woman shoot an arrow at the 'business meeting', Pele had seen her put it away and assumed that either she had been using it or had been prepared so. For a moment she considered relieving the woman from her bow and arrows, but it would not be an easy feat as she was pressing close and there was little room to use her dagger. Instead, she moved her arm away and down to aim the point of the dagger at the woman's ribs intending to let the point bite enough to be used as incentive to comply with the demands.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
@Pele Alarion
Merchant Escort

--- --- ...
Kaylin as Hirilfael --- Dagen --- a woman in the greenery

"They would have only done that if they were dimwits," Kaylin replied to Firdaus' statement about the Rangers staying in the village. "I surely would not have listened, if I were them," she added.

"No, not all wealthy families know such things," she all but laughed despite the situation. "But we are all a product of our past, are we not?"

She wrapped the long pieces of fabric around him tightly - but not so tight as to cut off circulation. She'd heard both Thûllir and Pele say that, after all. Once she was done, she peered around the back of the cart. The top of Mardan's head was visible, but she could only see his ear. "Mardan!" she said empahtically. "Mardan? Are you still with us?"

Dagen had gotten to a sitting position, quiet as a mouse. It was a pity that the stranger who had tied his hands (Duinion) had a bow and arrow at the ready. Dagen wondered how quickly he would be able to turn around and take a shot at him once he were to notice his attempt at escape.
Slowly, with the silence that came from years of experience in combination with a careful choice of equipment, the assassin got to his feet in a low crouch.

As he took his first steps across the roof, strifing, to the lower part of the building, he kept one eye on Duinion. So far the man had not seen him.

Between the trees still, the markswoman found herself in a bind. Her hand was on the knife belted to her chest, but her assailant's weapon (Pele's)was pressing against her ribs. Quickly, she went over her options. If her mark was still alive, she would not be for long. Whether it would be a matter of days, weeks or months - this client would find out and he would find her. Yet, dying here and now did not seem better. She was an archer, a markswoman - not a close range fighter. Her skill was not the best in that area.

"Who are you?" The question was uneasy.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

He was watching the trees, down below, searching for any sign of movement that might indicate hostile persons, but the motion he eventually spotted was not exactly down in the forest. Something moved, slowly, and he almost dismissed it as a breeze moving the trees. Except, he noticed there was no breeze at that particular moment, and that was the only spot it happened. Duinion blinked, focusing more closely, and realized it was a shadow he was seeing, cast against the tree tops below, and it was hard to detect because it was half-mingled with shadows cast by other trees.

Once he saw what he was looking at, the ranger grew still more focused on it, and realized it could only be coming from someplace above his own location. Which meant.. the roof. Behind him. He caught his breath, thinking fast. The shape wasn't clear, but he could tell it was man-shaped, and so that told him either his subdued foe had somehow gotten free, or there was another man on the roof there.

Keeping his gaze trained at the scene below his position, Duinion did his best to appear, to anyone watching, that he had no clue there was anyone behind him, moving across the roof. He slowly raised himself up to a crouch, as if something down below had caught his attention, and paused, checking that his position would enable him to move around as swiftly as he would need to do, in a moment. He had an arrow already on the string, but he wanted to pinpoint the man's location as closely as he could, before he turned. In the last twenty-something years, he'd spent many long hours practicing being able to shoot from various positions, as well as being able to spot the target, aim, and fire as fast as possible, even if that target was moving. Not only could such skill make the difference when hunting a game bird that had just been startled out of the grass and into the air, or a rabbit that had darted out from a bush.. but also in situations such as this.. with orcs, or men, or whatever enemy he was up against. He drew the arrow, as if he were going to shoot something on the ground, preparing.

Taking a slow breath, Duinion whirled suddenly around, finding his target swiftly. Taking only the briefest pause to assure himself it was an enemy, and not an unexpected friend coming, he let his arrow fly, aiming for the man's leg(particularly, the knee area). He was honestly surprised that the man would have managed to get to his feet at all without the use of his hands, and without rolling off of the roof by accident, all while not making enough sound to alert Duinion to his actions. But this man had already proven he was exceptionally well trained with assassin skills, and perhaps Duinion had underestimated him when he didn't tie his legs as well. He should've tied his bootlaces together, he grumbled in his thoughts. Something he would be sure to do this time, if his arrow didn't somehow miss. In case it did, the ranger immediately readied a second arrow, in case he needed it.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
Merchant Escort


Dagen

When the stranger moved, Dagen slowed to a halt. But when it looked like he would not turn around, instead looking down intently still, Dagen inched further across the roof. He didn't have that far to go anymore, before he could try and jump down. If he would have been taking regular paces, he would have been only a few steps removed from the edge.

Dagen was already switching his gaze from the other man on the roof to the edge and beyond - to check whether he would not land on something unpleasant, when suddenly he felt a stabbing pain in his knee. He lost his balance when his knee buckled under his weight, and Dagen (suddely quite loudly, compared to his previously quiet movements) slumped to the roof. He cursed under his breath, knowing that if the other man knew what he was doing, his window to escape had just closed. Even if the stranger was not as skilled at keeping prisoners, where was he going to go with his hands tied as they were and one knee that could no longer keep him upright?

He looked at the stranger, staring him down almost, despite having fallen on his side. "Now, now," Dagen said sweetly - a strong contrast with his earlier curse. "I think you have me. No need for that second arrow."

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



"I'd say it is a really useful skill under these circumstances," Firdaus admitted, as he did his best not to wince as Lady Hirilfael bandaged him up with his strips of his own clothing. He found it difficult to sit up so straight and would have let his shoulders slouch forward again, but he kept in mind the instructions given and propped himself up with his hands.

He then turned his attention back to the boy who had stabbed him and asked: "What's to become of the lad? Such an ingrate... I always make sure my servants are all well fed and lack nothing, and he repays me with this. Should be brought before judges, for sure!"

Meanwhile Mardan lay motionless where he had slid down by the cart and did not respond to Kaylin's question.



"I suppose I could ask the same question of you," Pele responded, though she did identify herself at least in part: "I am a Ranger."

She considered their situation for a brief moment. "I'd prefer not to be forced to harm you... much, so drop that knife and lift both of your hands up so I can see them," she instructed, unwilling to change her relatively safe position or the hold on the woman's wrist until she was sure it would not put her in danger. She kept the pressure of her own weapon against the woman's side as a reminder to comply, and asked: "How many of you are here? Two, or are there more?"

Pele was not sure the woman would be willing to respond or that her answer could be trusted, yet she guessed that there were several of them, even though she had not spotted anyone else from her hiding place. Kaylin's previous call for her skills was still at the back of her mind, and she wondered when it would be safe to leave the cover and evaluate the situation with the merchant and his company.

[Arnyn]

@Pele Alarion
Merchant Escort

--- ...
Kaylin as Hirilfael --- a woman in the greenery

"You two have to stay here," Kaylin ordered, her tone telling them she expected to be obeyed and that there would be hell to pay if either Firdaus or the boy did not listen. "I have to find out if Mardan is still... with us. If I find either of you in a worse condition than when I left you, I swear to the Valar..." she left the rest of her threat unspoken - the look in her blue-grey eyes finished it for her.

Kaylin swore mentally before risking a low-crouched step to the next side of the cart. There had been no arrow piercing Mardan from this side either, but that did not mean there would not be anyone there ready to fire one. There could be a third archer, or one of the others might have moved positions. But she was the only Ranger here. And she could not let the man die if there was anything she might still do. Her hopes were low, but it was her job to take the risk.

---

The woman huffed when her attacker said she could ask about her identity as well. She was no one of note. No one who mattered. If she did not finish the job, they would find someone else who would.

She laughed quietly at the Ranger's questions. "I have no idea. They do not tell us everything. I knew I was not alone - that was the extent of it. There could be one other. There could be a dozen." Suddenly amused by her own situation, but more so by the knowledge the Ranger needed information that she simply did not have, she twirled the knife in her hand, so she was holding it by the blade and was offering the hilt up to the Ranger. She raised her hands above her shoulders. "Take it," she said. "I can offer you little more."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

"You mean third?" Duinion retorted, keeping his voice hushed. "I shouldn't have needed the second," He nodded toward the one in the man's leg, and kept his bow aimed at him as he moved closer. "On your stomach, now. Unless you'd like a matching hole in the other knee," He waited until the man had done as he said, and then placed a foot firmly on his back to hold him there, in case he got any funny ideas, before putting his arrow away. He didn't trust the man in the least, and felt wary of how easy it had been to subdue him this second time, but he had to put the bow and arrow down for a moment so he could deal with him.

Transitioning from a foot to a knee pressing into the man's back as Duinion knelt to tie him better, he spoke sternly, yet quietly. "As a Ranger of Gondor, I'm placing you under arrest, to stand trial for attempted murder.. or possibly murder, depending on whether that man down there survived." He informed the man. He checked that the belt binding his wrists was secure, then used the man's boot laces to bind his ankles.. tight, but not so much as to cut off circulation. The arrow he left in his knee, to serve as further incentive not to try rolling over or getting up or any such thing. "You can keep the arrow for now," He added with a wry smile. "Until my comrade has a chance to tend to your wound, anyway."

With that, he half-stood and moved in a crouch back toward the edge of the roof, looking back down toward the ground, and toward the group hiding behind the wagon. The other man was still out in the open, and he couldn't tell whether he still lived. About the time Duinion reached the edge of the roof, he saw Kaylin move around the edge of the wagon, into his line of sight. She was going to go for the wounded man, he realized. Risky, since none of them knew how many enemies there were, nor where they were located. Keeping low to the roof, Duinion quietly readied an arrow, scanning the tree line and anywhere else he could see, hoping he would be able to spot any enemies before they had a chance to shoot at her, hoping to provide cover for her while she dragged the man to (relative) safety.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen
@Pele Alarion
Merchant Escort

---
Kaylin as Hirilfael --- Dagen

Dagen laughed quietly. "No, you shouldn't have needed the second." He sounded amused. "If your first arrow had been true." The amusement faded a bit when he was ordered down on his stomach. He complied. At least he had fulfilled his task. If he had been successful, perhaps his employer would let him live. Even break him out. It was all he could hope for at the moment.

The foot and then the knee at his back made him grit his teeth stubbornly, not wanting to show how uncomfortable and borderline painful that was. A Ranger of Gondor? Dagen wanted to snort, but refrained from doing so at the last minute. One of the good guys, indeed. Oh, he would leave the arrow? He raised an eyebrow. "Boohoo," he muttered, decidedly unimpressed. The Ranger's next words made him lift the second eyebrow as well. They would tend to his wound? Haha! No wonder his employer had such a widely spread network. If they took care of even one such as him, they would never dwindle.

---

She had reached Mardan without any arrows zipping past her. That was good. Kaylin looked him over and debated whether or not to pull him to the side of the cart she knew was safe. Thûllir had impressed on her that it was wisest not to move a heavily injured person before their injuries could be assessed at least, and preferably even tended to. "Mardan," she said quietly, trying to see if he would respond. Not getting a reaction, she took a deep breath. The Hyandaner tapped his cheek and spoke more loudly, with more insistence. "Mardan!"

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



Pele frowned unhappy with the response, but for all she knew it might as well be so in which case the organisation was well organised indeed and had a plenty of resources if they could spare a dozen very skilled people to keep an eye on one fat merchant. Besides, conducting any sort of proper interrogation here and now would not be productive even if she had knowledge of appropriate techniques.

"Fine. You are small fry then, expendable, hmm. But you do have a name, don't you? What should I call you?" she said, collecting the knife and securing it behind her belt. "Your bow and quiver too, though," she said, as she reached for the bow, while still not taking any chances and holding a knife to the woman's ribs. What was she to do with this archer though? Tie her to a tree or something? Pele felt some degree of urgency to see what had happened on the main stage, though she did not dare call out to Kaylin to ensure she was all right at least. Pele also assumed that Duinion had possibly spotted another of these people and had gone to deal with it, but then again - if there were more of them hidden elsewhere?



Firdaus said nothing and only eyed Hirilfael in return for her stern words. Now that the situation seemed to have calmed down somewhat he began to be annoyed by her.

"Playing quite a boss, isn't she?" he muttered to the boy in a low voice since he had no one else at hand to complain to. Not that she was not also efficient which was very good in this case. He shifted slightly to find a better position, not used to sitting on hard ground, and also the wound was throbbing and giving him trouble being comfortable. But at least he was in a better position than Mardan, he thought and comforted himself with that idea.

~~~~~~~
Mardan was drifting in an out of consciousness, overcome with constant pain, and taking shallow, quick breaths. At one point he felt a touch on his cheek and a voice calling his name. In an attempt to respond, he opened his eyes, but the world seemed to spin all around him, and he closed them again.

"Ah..." he attempted to say something, but speaking hurt even more, and he groaned before losing consciousness yet again.

[Arnyn]

Kaylin as Hirilfael --- a woman in the greenery

"Small fry? I suppose I am," the woman shrugged, albeit carefully given Pele's weapon poking at her. "Of course I have a name, but not one I care to share. You can call me Grey." She pointed a finger at her hair, explaining the choice. "It's what I go by in the trade. So it means more than my given name, really."

Grey sighed. "If you want my bow and quiver, you will have to take them. Unless you remove your weapon. I have no intention of losing any of my blood today, Ranger. Now. I gave you my name. It would only be fair if you gave me yours."

--

Kaylin was immensely relieved when she saw Mardan opening his eyes, but instantly concerned when they closed again right away, the man groaned and then seemed to slip away. She cursed and tried to assess the situation. Two arrows, in bad locations. If she'd be able to drag him without any shocking movements, by his feet so she wouldn't shift his torso, she could move him. But that would mean exposing herself even more, for she was positioned at his head now. And she would have to by around the other side of the cart to drag him feet first. Her blue-grey eyes scanned the area. She frowned. She was missing something. Then it hit her. The angle of one of the arrows meant it had come from above. Her eyes flicked up to the rooftop of the inn, and her trained eyes saw a shape keeping low to the roof. Her frown deepened. She couldn't be completely sure, and she hadn't been able to study the man that well, but maybe it was Duinion? In any case, he had not loosed an arrow at her, which increased the odds that it was him. Kaylin's frown deepened. Her gut told her she was right. But could she risk their lived on it?

Then she figured her instincts had not let her down before. She gave a small wave towards the man she thought was Duinion, and took a deep breath. Then she moved to crouch by Mardan's feet and started dragging him as evenly as she could to the side of the cart where Firdaus and the boy were waiting. The long dress wasn't making it any easier to stay relatively low and drag a body with her at the same time, but it was what it was. When she got back to the others, the boy was crying into his hands. "What now?" she mumbled under her breath, feeling very much like a babysitter. Most of her attention, however, was still on Mardan. "I don't think I can do much for him," she said quietly, talking to herself more than to the other two sitting against the cart. She rubbed at her forehead and sighed pensively. "Get out the arrows, make sure no parts stay behind, clean the wounds and stop the bleeding. That is all I could do. Perhaps even all a healer could do." She hit her fist against the ground and swore. She was almost sure that Mardan had no chance of survival. Which also meant there was - sadly - no need to hurry... Clenching her jaw, she turned her attention to the crying boy. "Hey," she said, moving to put a hand on one of his forearms. "Hey. Listen, listen - I know it's overwhelming. But I promise I won't hurt you." The servant was just a kid. "Can you tell me... why you stabbed Master Firdaus?"

The boy shook his head, his face still wet with his tears, but he lowered his hands at least. "No... no, I can't... I'm afraid..."

Kaylin nodded and looked to Firdaus, her expression genuinely concerned. "Master Firdaus... On your wau here, you referred to your regular contacts and how they might not be too happy if you were to branch out. I'll bet you ten to one that you were right: they are not pleased with you making new ones. You let on they weren't exactly... the most understanding. Given the situation we are in... can you tell me who they are?" She saw his hesitation, and her eyes widened slightly with what seemed like anxiety. "You know what we are facing, and I think your servant does as well... but I don't. Don't leave me alone in the dark, please? What is going on?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion

Though the assassin's jibe had irked him somewhat, Duinion chose to ignore it. The man was obviously trying to rile him up, and he had no intention of letting him succeed. He knew his aim had been true; At such a short distance, there was almost no way Duinion could have missed such a shot, but the man had been either very lucky, or else extremely swift, and moved at the last second. So he said nothing, and gave no indication whether he had even heard the remark.

Leaving the assassin where he lay, bound, Duinion periodically glanced back at him this time, to check that he hadn't somehow managed to escape, but gave most of his attention to the surroundings. Kaylin had reached the merchant's contact, and he couldn't tell if the man was alive or not. His eyes scanned the treeline, carefully watching for movement, and wondered if he would even be able to see any other assassins before they struck again. Looking back toward the pair below, he was just in time to catch Kaylin's wave. She must have figured out it was him up here, or else guessed. Unsure whether she would be able to see him very well, he returned a small nod, but also gave a low whistle, sounding much like a bobwhite quail. Hopefully, she would associate the sound with him, for future reference, in case it was needed.

As she began dragging the man away from the open space, Duinion assumed that he must be alive yet. Good. He glanced over his shoulder again, then looked around, only relaxing slightly once he saw that Kaylin and her patient had made it to relative safety behind that wagon. How many other enemies could they expect, he wondered? He doubted it would do any good to ask the man he had subdued, for he would feel skeptical about anything he told Duinion, anyway. But, there was obviously one other besides the man up here on the roof, but was it only those two? And where was Pele.. did she have the other assassin under control, since there had been no further arrows? He didn't like to take a chance on such a thing, and debated whether he ought to remain up here on the roof, which was a great vantage point, or move back down to the ground and search for any more signs of these people. After waiting a little while, and seeing no sign of movement, he began thinking he would have better luck on the ground.

Not knowing whether Kaylin had any weapons at her disposal, he thought for a moment. He was not in favor of leaving her without something to use in case she needed it. The assassin's bow lay nearby... Duinion had, earlier, considered using its string to bind the man with, but had chosen the belt in favor of that. Now, he was glad for that, as he looked again at the weapon, thoughtful. He'd never attempted to toss a bow from a high location like this before, and wasn't sure if it would cause any damage to the weapon. There was a slight risk of that. But if it didn't damage it, then at least Kaylin might have something to use. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as he'd heard said, or something similar.. right? After locating the quiver with the remaining arrows, Duinion wrapped it and the bow together in a bundle, using his own cloak; he disliked having to sacrifice it, but it was the only thing he could find at hand to use for his purpose. Bundling them together, he thought, would help protect them from the impact, as well as prevent the arrows from falling out in midair or scattering on the ground when the quiver landed.

Peering over the edge again, the ranger took a moment to gauge the distance and estimate how close he could get it to land to where Kaylin and her group were sheltering. He gave another 'bobwhite' call to hopefully get Kaylin's attention, paused to see if she would look, then tossed the bundle down, aiming as close to her location as he could manage, and hoped that it would be within her reach. As soon as he had tossed it, he swiftly withdrew from the edge of the roof and out of sight from any onlookers below, in case the action had drawn the attention of any other enemies hiding in the woods. Now was probably the best time to move locations, he decided, while any enemies were hopefully focused on where he had been. Stopping to check his prisoner's bonds one last time before making his way across the roof, Duinion reassured himself he should not get free, then headed toward the tree he had used to climb up there, but paused to survey the ground around there first, just in case... he would not want to walk into an ambush or trap of any sort.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



Firdaus kept looking around anxiously while Lady Hirilfael was away looking at Mardan and wondered whether more attacks would be incoming. He had been quite confident that he was more useful to them alive rather than dead, yet - if the lad had been made to attack him - perhaps he had overestimated his own value. It seemed that everything was as quiet and calm as it was before the arrows, and knife, had struck, except for the boy's sobbing.

A frown settled on the fat merchant's brow as he tried to clean his bloodied hands on the hem of his now damaged garments. He looked on in silence at seemingly lifeless Mardan and then shook his head at the questions Hirilfael posed to him. The boy had been sent at him, that much was clear, and he was too intimidated to speak. Yet, Firdaus himself did not feel exactly comfortable sharing what knowledge he had, and even if he did - what could be done? Would this lady's family have some influence in the matter?

"It's an organised crime group," he eventually said, relenting. "They cast out their nets and forced me into sharing my hard earned profits with them. All but stealing and restricting my choices." Technically he still had a plenty of income even after paying the requested tribute, but he resented having to share. "The Black Hand. If you ever hear this, don't have any dealings with them if at all possible. They'd snatch an eye out of your forehead by all sorts of nasty means. I don't know much beyond the blackmailing scoundrels visiting my shop at regular intervals..."

When some sort of bundle landed not that far from them, Firdaus ducked his head fearing that it was some sort of missile aimed at them. "What devilry is this?" he muttered. "Don't touch it!"



"Grey it is then, I will call you that if you prefer," Pele said, as she removed the tip of her dagger from the woman's side so she could relieve her from her bow and quiver without causing injuries. "You can call me Pele," she responded using the woman's words, though she did not have a cover name to use. "It seems blood has been spilled already, and I'd rather we come to agreement without adding any more, either yours or mine."

Another faint bird call reached her ears, which Pele assumed was Duinion again rather than a bird, but she did not dare look at what was happening on the scene aware that anything might happen should she lose sight of Grey if even for a moment.

"Right," Pele said, tossing the bow and quiver aside lightly on the soft moss while remaining on high alert and ready to act should the woman decide to reach for some other hidden weapon or attempt to run off. "Suppose you'd be interested in getting to the dungeons in one piece then rather than in several, aye?" the Captain worked free and cut sufficient length of rope from the coil she had secured to her pack, and then poked the woman's back with the tip of her blade lightly to remind her not to resist. "Place your hands behind your back so I can bind you." Somehow the whole matter seemed too easy going for Pele, and she wondered whether Grey knew that someone else was close enough to lend her a hand and rescue her. Suspicious, she cast a look around the greenery, searching for signs of any other assassins.

[Arnyn]

Dagen

He looked up from his prone position lying down on the roof to see the Ranger wrapping his bow and quiver into that cloak and tossing it down.

"Oh?" Dagen asked, his voice sounding interested and slightly mocking. "Have a friend down there who's lost his weapons? Not very rangery, is it? Aren't you guys supposed to be prepared?" The assassin left a pause, then chuckled. "Well. Perhaps not. You're also supposed to be good marksmen." Another stab at this Ranger's ability with the bow, deliberately administrered. If he was to be caught - which he was - he might as well enjoy what part of it he could, right?

He was rather perflexed, however, when the Ranger did not comment, checked his bonds, and then... simply left him. Dagen stared at the tree the man climbed into, and kept staring a while even after he had disappeared from his line of sight. "What...?" he mumbled. Dagen couldn't believe the man had just left him there. As if he were a discarded piece of clothing, or a broken tool. A wry smile appeared on his face when he felt the arrow flashing pain through his knee when he tried to move his leg. Well... In a way, he was that. Yet he couldn't help but look around and try to figure out his options. He wouldn't be able to run or even walk tied up like this and with that arrow in his knee. He could not roll, either. He could move like a catterpillar, but it would be very painful. Not to mention it would look absolutely ridiculous.

Dagen found himself laughing quite heartily at that idea. Well, then there was only one option.

"Disciples and rogues!" he shouted as loudly as he could. "A Finger of the Hand speaks! Help me off this roof and you shall be rewarded!"


Kaylin as Hirilfael

Organized crime. Well yes, that was all but obvious by now. She watched Firdaus with some sympathy as he explained, but when he said the Black Hand her blue-grey eyes went out of focus and her face paled. As he went on to warn her to avoid dealings with them, Kaylin swallowed nothing through her dry throat. No kidding. Unfortunately, it was far too late for that. She and Thûllir had gotten a few of the Hand's minions encarcerated after one of them had targeted one of Kaylin's soldier friends, years ago. They had... not taken it well. She reflexively touched the side of her stomach. The sound of the creaky step near the top of their stairway flashed through her mind, along with the image of a white-haired man tearing through the climbing roses on the front of their house on his way down to the hard stone.
Admittedly, they had been quiet for a while now, but they had been quiet before, and had later shown they had not forgotten as they harrassed her with letters designed to bring her guilt and threats. She supposed she shifted on the Hand's priority list every so often.

The same bird call which had sounded right after she'd waved to the guy she was more sure now was Duinion, pulled her from her memories. A cloaked bundle dropped relatively close by, although she would still have to leave her cover to retrieve it. Kaylin swore. She swore at the news that Firdaus was involved with the Black Hand. She swore at the realization that she herself had somehow gotten roped into Black Hand matters again. She swore at the bundle landing just far enough to risk exposure once more.
Then she heard something coming from the roof of the inn. A man's voice she did not know, calling out loudly. And confirming Firdaus' claim about the Black Hand. A Finger of the Hand... The assassin they'd sent after her had been a Finger of the Hand, she dimly realized. His middle finger had been tattooed profusely, the word 'Third' hardly discernable - but she had seen it in between the twirls and twisting lines of the drawing, when she'd inspected the body. He had not been successful, but he had scared her witless trying. Kaylin's heart was racing as her face formed a snarl. She was so done with this crime group...

"They pay you?" she growled at the boy, who looked so scared a sheet might have more color. He shook his head. "No, no... Well, in a way I guess yes... They... took me in. From the orphanage."
Kaylin cussed again. If that didn't breed loyalty, she didn't know what would. If they treated them right, of course. "Smart," she mumbled, unable to deny the brilliance. Her anger made her throw caution into the wind and she moved for the bundle. While she was quick, it could have gone wrong - but no attack came. She unpacked the contents of the cloak and was surprised to find a bow and a quiver in it. Narrowing her eyes with a frown on her brow, Kaylin tested the draw. It was a heavier draw than she was used to, but since she wouldn't be using it for a lengthy period of time, that would be alright. She could still pull it back to her usual anchor point.

Looking up to the roof, she no longer found Duinion there. So he was either with that Finger of the Hand, further back on the roof, or he had left his position. Kaylin wondered about Pele. A look at Mardan turned it into deep concern. He was breathing still, but so shallow she feared he might stop any minute. There was a slight chance that Pele would know to do something Kaylin did not.. Pele was a Master Healer, after all... Part of her mind rolled her eyes, saying Master Healer wasn't equal to a sorceress. Kaylin winced and looked at Firdaus. "Seems like they really like the coin you bring them," she said. "They are going to great lengths."

Kaylin frowned deeper. She had given up her cover twice now, and there had been no attack - not even an attempt at one. Was it because she was not a target? Or was it because her companions had neutralized the attackers involved? Another look at Mardan. Or perhaps the attackers had simply left, because their objective had been completed?

"Pele!" Kaylin called out, making a decision. "I need your skills!"

Grey

"Ah, Pele. Nice to meet you." Grey sounded unconcerned. She nodded when the Ranger said she would prefer not to spill blood. "I would prefer not to add any of my blood to the pool, either," she agreed, saying nothing however about Pele's. "So one piece is preferable. For sure." Grey held her hands behind her back as per Pele's instructions.

"Do you know who you are dealing with though?" she inquired. "Not me, of course. Small fry and all that. But those who hired me?" She lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. "I wouldn't want to thwart them. Everyone in my business knows you never say no to the Hand."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

Though Duinion heard every mocking word that issued from the assassin's mouth, he deliberately ignored it. He didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken, in fact. There was no point in letting those words rile him up. And he'd had plenty of practice, learning to let insults and hurtful words roll off of him like water, in a manner of speaking. Let the man wonder about why he had dropped the weapons. So long as it was helpful to his fellow ranger, he didn't really care what this lowlife thought about it, nor what he had to say.

As he was busy studying the area around the tree, the ranger paused, hearing a new flood of words come from the Annoyance he had captured. Disciples and rogues? Finger of the Hand? And he was offering a reward to anyone that would help him escape... Duinion's first thought was 'shoot, did I make a mistake?' But then... he paused and thought about it more. He'd managed to gather some information without even having to ask. And then, the realization hit him of what it would take for someone to come to the man's rescue. They would have to get up onto the roof before they could help him. Perhaps this would flush them out into the open, and the rangers could then take them out, one by one. This was perfect. A smile grew onto his face as he swiftly came up with a plan. If he had enough time... he would have to act quickly, but... this almost couldn't have worked out better if he'd planned it.

It didn't take him long to get back down to the ground level. Too bad he'd left most of his gear on his horse, but he would have to make do. He felt annoyed at himself for not having been better prepared, as he tried to always be. But at least he had the things in his pockets. Thankfully, he'd been able to use the assassin's own belt and shoelaces to bind the man, and so he hadn't had to delve into his own resources of string. For, of course, the trapper would never go anywhere without a very usable supply of the stuff, although he wished he had a few more useful items at hand. Regardless, he wouldn't be much good at what he did, and certainly wouldn't have lasted long in Ithilien all those years, if he wasn't able to make good use of the things that he did have at hand, so he got to work eagerly. This was what he was good at. This was the sort of thing he'd learned most eagerly, as a trainee, and had worked at improving his skill ever since. This.. was what had earned him the name Raedor; 'One who catches with traps'. Glancing around carefully to watch for anyone trying to sneak up behind him, Duinion swiftly and expertly worked on rigging up as many little "surprises" for anyone that might attempt to get up on that roof as he could manage in whatever time he had.

Obviously, without much time, or at least not knowing how much he did have, Duinion didn't bother attempting anything elaborate or time-consuming; just a few simple but effective things. And, given the location, an inn with possibly innocent folks within, he was careful that nothing would be deadly, in case any unintended victims were to accidentally fall prey to his traps. A snare, for instance, awaited anyone who attempted to climb the tree, which would leave them dangling upside down and far out of reach of any branches. That was the first he set up, as the tree was the most obvious, and easiest, point to try and gain access to the roof. With the snare carefully concealed and camouflaged.. so well that even Duinion could hardly tell it was there.. he moved off to locate the next most likely spot for someone to try and get up there.

As he moved along, he was continually glancing around carefully, keeping low to the bushes, and moving slowly and stealthily. Duinion felt as if he were in his element now, doing his best to stay out of sight and unobserved as he went about his work. Whoever these folks were, he had a suspicion by the way the captured man had spoken, there might be many of them. Disciples and rogues... whatever that meant. And considering how difficult it had been to incapacitate this 'Finger of the Hand', Duinion was prepared for any others to be just the same. Still, so long as nothing went wrong, and no one interrupted him, the Tirdinen would leave several hidden traps at key locations where someone might attempt to get onto the roof. Using string, sticks, stones, mud, and any other handy resources available, he intended to make that roof unobtainable to anyone but himself, who knew exactly where it was safe to step, grab, or pull... and where it was not.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien



Pele wasted no time tying up Grey's hands, as she replied calmly: "I know of the Hand." Though her knowledge practically did not reach deep, just enough to know that they existed, that they were criminals, and that they were dangerous. Kaylin had made sure to keep her out of the whole thing beyond that. "However, Hand or Foot, or even a Nose... I'm used to being hunted, so nothing new if they try that."

The sudden shout made Pele stop and listen, and then she commented: "Apparently a finger is stuck on the roof. You a rogue or a disciple, Grey?" However, even if the woman was either of those, Pele did not have a mind to let her respond to the call. "Suppose, you two can just entertain each other by yelling encouragements back and forth," she teased, pushing the woman closer to a bigger tree near to them and using the remaining length of rope to tie her to it with her face towards the tree.

Kaylin's call made Pele want to respond to the note of urgency in it, yet she was wondering if there were any more attackers who might pick her off if she did. Snatching up Grey's bow and quiver so that the weapon would not be available should the woman get herself free by some skill or by someone's help, Pele approached the edge of the greenery, and sneaked alongside it to pick the shortest way to reach the wagon and Kaylin. Seeing no suspicious movement, she suddenly left the relative safety of the trees and sprinted across the street to the wagon, and almost stepped on Mardan as she came sharply around the corner.

"For crying out loud..." she jumped over the man on the ground just in time, and then knelt to make use of any cover provided by the cart. "What are the needs? All and in detail?" she asked, first quickly looking over Kaylin for any apparent injuries before turning her attention to Mardan and his condition, leaning closer to him to hear whether he was still breathing.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort
@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen

Grey

"Does it matter?" she replied drily to Pele's question. As she was being tied to the tree, Grey laughed quietly at Pele's jest. "Aye. I suppose we could. The new Third Finger is a young one, though. He can be rash." Grey was unhappy not being able to see much else than the tree after being tied to it as she was, and sighed with annoyance as Pele moved away and left her. Dagen was rash - he had called out. He was probably assuming that, as a Finger of the Hand, he was less likely to be written off than most would be. Than Grey would be. She scowled. She'd need more than a little luck to get out of this one.


Kaylin as Hirilfael

Kaylin was keeping an arrow nocked as she kept scanning the surroundings visible to her. But nothing was to be seen - until Pele sprinted their way and appeared mid-jump over Mardan. It would have been funny, had the situation not been as tense as it was. Pele's question was posed both as a healer and a captain, and Kaylin could do naught but reply to it as well as she could muster. "The boy and I are unhurt. Firdaus has one stab wound in his side; it was bleeding a lot but doesn't seem to have hit anything major given the time that has passed and his current condition. I tied some strips of clothing around him in an attempt to stop or at least slow the bleeding." She looked at Mardan. "This man is why I felt I could not wait. I fear there is little left to be done for him. But cannot be sure. Shot by two arrows, no other injuries I am aware of -" she gestured at the arrows. "I moved him because I feared he might suffer more wounds if I left him where he was. He opened his eyes earlier - but only briefly."

An Aspirant

He'd joined on the mission as a mere observer to learn what he might. Those who wished to become important to the Hand, needed certain experience. And while he had some skills already, he knew he was still lacking. Therefore he had told himself he would not be an active participant.

But then... The Third called out what he did. And the Aspirant knew that, if he managed to help Dagen, it would save him years of trouble. He would get easier access to quality instruction, perhaps even from the Third himself. This... was an opportunity.

After minutes of inner debate and weighing the pro's against the cons, the Aspirant moved for the tree to the roof. He had not seen the green-clad Gondorian (Duinion) nearby for a while. This could be his chance. He made his way to the tree, started to climb it, and suddenly felt his hopes of advancing in the organisation pulled out from under him, just like his legs were... He stifled the need to cry out a word of surprise, and instead covered his face with his hand as he dangled from the tree, head down. This was... downright embarrassing... And then he realized it was more than simply that. He might have just turned his incredible opportunity into his premature end.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen

Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

and

"Right. Two of you all well, a stab wound, and two arrows," Pele repeated, and glanced over at Firdaus to get a quick view of his condition. The fat merchant's clothing was heavily stained with blood, and he looked somewhat paler than usual, but it did not appear that he would pass out any time soon.

"A bird in the forest informed me that it is the third finger that is sore," Pele remarked in a tone as if she was simply making small talk, just in case the bit of information would mean anything to Kaylin. "I tried to make sure the bird would not fly off immediately before I came here."

Pele shifted at Mardan's side so she could examine him and work on him better. She did not touch the arrows just yet, and instead reached out to place her fingers against the side of his neck to feel the pulse. "Well, I don't know. He's hanging in there by a thread, and I will do what I can, but the arrows are... well placed. I might not be able to save him," she sighed after a quiet moment. "Who is he and what is his name? Is it known where he has come from, relatives, family?"

Firdaus curiously observed interactions between Lady Hirilfael and Pele, noting the seeming ease with which they communicated. For a fleeting moment he felt that he was missing out on something by not caring enough to even find out the names of Rangers who had come with him, but now there were other more pressing matters.

"Look... Pele. He's as good as dead anyway," the merchant said, returning to his somewhat whining tone. "Why bother with him. I'd rather prefer you to look at my injury since I would not like to die any time soon and join him."

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort


Kaylin - not really posing as Hirilfael anymore in anything else but appearance

"A bird in the forest informed me that it is the third finger that is sore." A cold shiver ran down her back. Darudian's replacement was on that roof.

She nodded at Pele's summary of the situation. "Correct, Captain." Pele's brief assessment confirmed what she had thought earlier. Arrows deep into the torso were difficult to deal with almost as a rule. Too much important stuff was packed in there. She shrugged at Pele's question. "I know nothing about him apart from the name he chose to deal with Firdaus: Mardan."

Kaylin turned to Firdaus at his words, still holding the bow and nocked arrow. She half pointed it at him. "If I hear much more whining from you, Master Firdaus, we not have need of the Hand for you to suffer an arrow to the chest," she threatened in a low voice. "And then you 'd better hope there will be no fat narcissist to convince the healer to ignore your wound."

Something gnawed at her gut, even through the concern for Mardan's life and her extreme annoyance with Firdaus, however. Pele's comment about the Third Finger still bothered her. "Pele, do you know where Duinion is?" Even if this replacement was half as good as the previous owner of that title, he would be very skilled. Tenacious. And very dangerous.


Dagen

After waiting long enough to his liking, he decided to take matters in his own hands. It was clear that the Ranger who had tied his hands behind his back as well as tying his shoes together, was no longer within his line of sight. Dagen sighed mentally, and gave the arrow in his left knee a long look. He rolled onto his right side and brought up his knees. He grimaced in pain at the movement. If he wanted to be able to do anything other than lie here, the arrow needed to go. Or at least the part sticking out of the front of his knee had to go. Dagen would need to lean on his knees to get to his feet. And he intended to do just that. He would find a way to get the laces around his boots cut; there was bound to be something in this roof he could use for that. The belt around his wrists was hopeless. But the laces... that had to be feasible.

He tried to reach for the arrow with his mouth, but came an inch short. He frowned. Well. He probably wouldn't have been able to break off that arrow shaft by clenching it between his teeth and twisting from this angle anyway. Then that left... leveraging it against the roof itself.

It would hurt. It would hurt a lot. And there was also a good chance he wouldn't even be successful. But you didn't get to be the Third if you were afraid of pain or lacked ambition.

He prepared himself. Then he rolled quickly from his left side to his right side, fully intending to continue rolling to his belly and snapping the arrow off as close to the entry wound as he could.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

Moving along under the side of the inn, Duinion paused frequently to look around, then to look up at the roof, trying to gauge whether he would find it too difficult to attempt climbing up there, if he had a need or desire to get up there. He found most of the places would be impractical to try, being so high up. But other spots would be more ideal for such a climb. He focused on these, setting a snare here and there. It was a little different, setting traps for humans, versus setting a trap for prey animals. The only bait was the promise from "The Finger" of some sort of reward. But he hoped it was 'bait' enough for these people. Still, he could only place his traps in the most likely spots for someone to step, and hope for the best.

Pausing among some bushes growing along a low edge of the roof, unsure whether there were more enemies around, Duinion took a look around to look for anyone that might be watching him. All seemed clear. He reached up, standing on tiptoe, and felt the roof with his fingertips, smiling faintly to himself as he worked by touch alone, loosening some of the shingles all along the edge as far as he could reach, to the point that if someone tried to grab onto them, they would slip off and any attempt at pulling themselves up there would be quickly thwarted. With that completed, he focused his attention on the ground now, hoping to lay a few surprises, for when they fell. He was pleased to find a deserted-looking animal burrow just where he had in mind to place a trap, where it looked like the easiest spot to try to jump up and grab the overhanging roof. The hole looked like it had come from a groundhog, and was about the right size around for a person to step into it by mistake.

He looked around again before pulling out his knife, and quickly cut several sticks from some of the nearby bushes, not much bigger around than a pencil. It took very little time to shape the ends into points, and used a nearby stone to drive the spikes securely into the sides of the hole, pointing slightly downward and carefully arranged. Four down lower, then another four, alternating with the first four, a few inches above that. Once his foot trap was completed, he touched up the points with his knife, then covered the hole loosely with fallen leaves and other debris so it would be concealed.

Moving onward a few paces, he looked around again and considered whether a person could maybe try to climb here. It wouldn't be impossible. So, kneeling, he employed his string again, setting up a snare that would, with any luck, yank some unlucky person off their feet and entangle them in a nearby bush. Trying to envision what would happen if his trap were successful, Duinion felt fairly confident it would be difficult for the caught person to reach the string to cut it or loosen the loop around their ankle. And the more they struggled, the more likely that bush would get them further tangled. That was his hope, anyway. As he went along, the height of the roof rose sharply, and Duinion took a moment to study it. If he were going to try to get up to the roof, he would certainly not try here, rather than the lower parts where the climbing would be easier. With limited string at his disposal, he decided to conserve it since that area of the roof would be difficult to climb up, when only a short distance away, the lower area promised to be much easier to climb.

Figuring the side of the inn where Kaylin and her group were hiding might be under more surveillance from enemies, Duinion avoided that, and backtracked carefully around the inn, moving slowly to avoid drawing any undue attention to himself, trying to be stealthy. As he rounded the corner where the tree was located, he stopped in surprise to see that his trap had already proven effective. A small smile tugged at his mouth, but just as quickly, he thought of the possibility of danger lurking. Suppose more of these assassins were waiting around for someone to free him. Keeping still, half hidden by a bush there, the ranger looked around and watched for any movement.

After a moment with nothing but the Aspirant's movements, hanging upside down from the tree, Duinion turned his gaze toward him. Who was this guy? He waited a moment longer before approaching, keeping his steps as quiet as possible. "Nice day for a climb, isn't it?" The ranger's soft, but slightly amused, voice spoke from behind the man, hoping to startle him, taking hold of him to steady him. He had purposely waited until the dangling man was turned away from him, so he wouldn't see him approach. "Since I don't think you're a squirrel... tell me, just where do you fit into all this, hm?" He wondered as he took a moment to check his person for any weapons, removing any that he found.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort

An Aspirant

He'd just been about to try and reach for his feet when an amused voice came from behind him all of a sudden. And then someone took hold of him by the belt under his back and stopped his gentle swaying to and fro the tree. The Aspirant clenched his jaw. He had his his interrogation training. He would not speak!

A clearly stifled cry came from the roof. The Aspirant recognized it instantly as the Third's, and stretched his neck to look in the roof's direction. What was happening up there? Was another one of these Gondorians torturing Dagen? No, that couldn't be. That was not the way of the law-abiding good guys. Then what was the Third doing, exactly? Perhaps he was working on something.

The Aspirant decided to distract the Gondorian behind him. Then at least this man would be one less man to stop Dagen from whatever he was doing.
"I'm no squirrel, no," the Aspirant said gruffly. "Are you? You are sneaky enough to be. I don't fit into anything. Do you?"


Dagen

Blinding pain shot through his knee and he cried out through pursed lips, then gritted teeth - applying pressure until the arrow snapped. Dagen's eyes misted over and involuntary tears dripped down his cheeks. He took a moment to breathe and recover, looked down at his knee - and smiled.

The smile momentarily warped into a pleased grin. He didn't care about the tears - nor the pain.

Now, he had options.

He breathed in and out a few more times to prepare himself, then rolled onto his side and brought up his boots toward his hands, bound on his back. He reached up with his feet and down with his hands, until his fingers could fumble at his boots. The pain in his knee was so excruciating that his head swam. The Ranger had pulled out his laces to tie his ankles together, and he had checked him for weapons - but he had not checked inside of his boots. The Third managed to pull open one of his boots to retrieve a small knife. He moved very slowly and carefully, so as not to drop it between the shingles of the roof. Some of his leg muscles protested against his position, but he hardly registered it compared to the pain in his knee, which was of course still holding part of the arrow. After retrieving the knife, he took a break. It lasted only for a few heartbeats. Then he assumed his previous position again, to cut through the laces.

When they came apart, he slowly changed the position of his legs and closed his eyes to work through the zinging pain in his knee. Now it was a question of whether he could get his knee to work with him at all. He tried several ways to get up, but they all failed. Looking to the edge of the roof, which he had been so close to when the Ranger had shot him, gave him an idea.

He squirmed over to the edge, feet first, and moved further until his lower legs were clear of the roof and the edge right under his knees. He could sit up then, legs dangling from the roof. He had chosen this side because it was only one floor away from the ground. He could jump down. His injured knee would give way instantly, he knew. But perhaps... perhaps he would be able to move away somehow. Get to the greenery not that far away. Not be found right away. It was a gamble, and odds of success were small. Yet small odds were better than accepting the fate that would be his if he simply stayed put.

The Third inhaled. Deeply. Slowly. Upon exhale, he used his bound hands and legs to push him off the roof.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Arnyn



Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

Finding himself at the receiving end of Kaylin's anger, Firdaus ducked his head and fell silent - only for a few moments.

"I hired Rangers to keep me safe, and look what happened," he dared again, though not so boldly and more quietly.

The words made Pele look up from where she was kneeling by Mardan and removing her healer's bag to have it within easy reach. "Sure, just don't forget who told us to stay put in the village," she responded more sharply than she first intended and then turned her attention back to Mardan, placing her hand on his forehead as she called his name out several times to see if he would respond.

"Duinion did not follow me when I moved closer," Pele explained a few moments later when Kaylin asked of his whereabouts. "I guessed his approximate location from those bird calls of his: first from near our previous positions, and then from somewhere above, perhaps on the same roof. I hope he will turn up sooner rather than later though; I don't like not knowing where exactly he is and what he is doing."

While she talked, her hands were constantly busy, using the dagger with utmost care to cut away the layers of clothing from Mardan's upper body. It took her a while as she worked around the arrows, yet eventually she could get a full view of the injuries. "Those arrows have gone in deep," she sighed. She knew that removing the arrows might cause even further damage, yet it had to be done somehow. While she was visually inspecting the injuries and thinking on how best to go about it, she noticed that Mardan's chest did not move with breathing. "Mardan!" she called again, first placing her hand near his mouth and nose to feel for breath, and then leaned in with her cheek instead.

Pele waited, and waited some more, and eventually sat up straight again. "There's nothing I can do for him - he has managed to slip away quietly while I worked on his clothing," she said with a heavy sigh and covered him up with the garments she had worked so hard to remove. "A pity there is no detailed information on where he came from so that his relatives would know." She looked over at Firdaus with some hope, but the merchant just shook the head, though he managed to refrain from urging Pele to tend to him now that Mardan was dead.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

Duinion's gaze flicked upward toward the roof, wondering what his captive was up to now. Probably trying to get loose. And that arrow would cause considerable pain if he was trying to get it out of his knee. But did that mean he had gotten himself untied? Duinion hesitated, trying to decide now what to do. He was not used to taking captives at all. He was used to fighting orcs, out in Ithilien. Quick kills, before they could do any further damage. Orcs did not get taken captive. Occasionally, there was an encounter with bandits or other criminals hiding in the forest who would then be arrested and taken to the gaol, but that was less common and Duinion could only remember a handful of times he had been involved in making such an arrest. Now, he had two captives, one of them seemingly a dangerous and skilled assassin. This other... he wasn't willing to take any chances. He might be just as skilled, for all Duinion knew.

The assassin on the roof was bound, and practically stranded up there on the roof, Duinion reminded himself, although with slight uncertainty. If he did get himself loose, and get the arrow out, he'd have to take a minute to get down from the roof, right? Surely, that wound would slow him down. So, first he needed to deal with this other guy. "Squirrels aren't very sneaky," he answered with a little snort of amusement. "If I were a squirrel you'd have heard me coming some time ago." Hoping he wasn't making a mistake in not checking on his other captive first, the ranger searched for any weapons on his new catch, first feeling around the inside top of his boots, then checked his legs, then waist and torso, down to his arms, trying to think of everywhere a person could hide a weapon. Once any weapons he found were removed, Duinion took the man's belt from around his waist, forming the belt into a makeshift shackle so he could more easily put it on his wrists. "I'm going to bind your hands. If you resist, I'll leave you hanging like this," he warned him, before reaching to pull the man's hands together, behind his back. He'd rather not do that, because he hoped to reset the trap. Also, he didn't want any other enemies to see him hanging there and come to free him.

Once he had his wrists bound securely behind his back, with or without his resistance, Duinion took hold of the branch the string was tied to, and pulled it slowly toward them, until the man's shoulders and upper back rested on the ground, then leaned his ankles against a lower branch to support them while he worked. After securing the limb under his arm, Duinion took a moment to loosen the snare loop from around his ankles. "I wouldn't advise trying to run," He mentioned, hoping to leave the man wondering what might happen if he did, so it might make him think twice before trying it. Once he had his captive's feet free, Duinion quickly reset the trap so that it would be ready to catch anyone else attempting to climb the tree. That only took him a couple of seconds, luckily. Then, he helped the man upright and onto his feet, keeping a tight grip on the belt around his wrists.

"Are you the only one bold enough, or perhaps desperate enough, to attempt to rescue this.. 'Finger' fellow?" He wondered, although at the same time, wondered if others might have come from another side of the roof while he was busy with this guy. Suppose that was the reason for the cry of pain he'd heard... suppose someone had decided to finish off the guy on the roof so he couldn't talk? A few thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to decide what to do. With two captives now, he wondered if it would be best to seek out the captain at this point, and learn what she would have him do with them. But first, he'd like to reset this trap, in case any others decided to try rescuing their 'Finger'. Whatever that was supposed to mean, he had no idea. But for now he nudged his prisoner to walk with him along the side of the inn, keeping himself on the side closest to the wall, both to keep him from accidentally stepping in one of Duinion's other traps, and also to serve as a shield in case any of his buddies tried to take a shot at them.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort
@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen


Kaylin - not really posing as Hirilfael anymore in anything else but appearance

She decided it would be better for everyone if she simply ignored the merchant for the time being. Pele's reply to his words was rather satisfying, so maybe she could manage to keep it up for a while.

Considering Pele's reply to her earlier question, she figured that... if the Third was stuck on the roof.. and Duinion had been on the roof throwing her that bow... which she could tell was not his own... then that meant Duinion was the one who had trapped the Third. That was good. That was excellent. Now the Third just needed to stay trapped. She wanted to go check out the roof.

Pele distracted her momentarily with the news that Mardan had passed away. Kaylin sighed, and gave a slow nod. She'd feared as much. Her blue-grey eyes flicked to Firdaus. "Suppose he is up next, then," she said, almost begrudgingly. But then her thoughts swiftly returned to the Third Finger, the roof, and wherever Duinion was at the moment.

"I'm going to check out the roof," Kaylin said. With Mardan's confirmed passing, Pele would only have Firdaus and the boy to watch. "I don't think anyone else is watching, or at least not trying to get at us. I have been exposed a few times and was never targeted. With permission, Captain?" While she waited for Pele to reply, she looked at Firdaus with a bit of a grin. Would he figure it out now, finally?


Dagen

As he pushed himself forward and off the roof, he could feel some of the shingles coming along with him. It would make more noise, but not that much more luckily. After all, the ground here was rammed earth, not paved. When his feet hit the earth, however, the shock that reverberated through his knee made his vision flash white. Somehow, he managed not to cry out in pain. That was good. However, the white blurring his vision then started fading to black. That was bad, he knew.

He had taken a gamble. The only path which had seemed open to him. And he had lost this roll of the dice.

He lost consciousness. His only hope could be it would not be for long.

An Aspirant

The Gondorian discovered several weapons about his person. The Aspirant gritted his teeth, displeased. Now he had a view of the man, as he worked to loosen his ankles and reset the trap, the Aspirant decided he had to be a Ranger. One of Faramir's? They didn't usually venture out this far anymore, but once in a while... It was possible.

He wasn't sure how much of a threat the man's threat was. He could try to run, but he was alone, he figured. At the moment, anyway. He was at a disadvantage, especially with the Third seemingly stuck on that roof. Once the Ranger had helped him upright - another affront to the Aspirant's fragile ego - another question came. He held back a snort of the term 'Finger' fellow. The Ranger had it all wrong. Dagen was the Third. Not just 'some fellow'. Yet the Aspirant had been drilled not to give anything about the organisation away. He merely tilted his chin, intending to avoid any and all answers, until he remembered he was trying to distract the Ranger in case the Third needed a bit more time to make his escape.

"Surely not," he almost laughed. "Many I know would jump at the chance. And, unfortunately for you, you have no way of knowing how many we are."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

Duinion hadn't really expected to get any answers out of the man. He gave a vague smile at his response, however. "Perhaps not. But fortunately for us, you people have no way of knowing how many we are." He replied, curious how the man might react to that. Did they already know how many rangers had come along to escort Firdaus? They would be surprised by Kaylin, of course, but even if they knew there were only a few, he hoped that his words might present the idea that there were more of them here than they thought. After all, they'd have no way of knowing whether Pele had another company coming along in their wake, as backup.

Nudging his prisoner to move, Duinion made his way along the wall of the inn, and soon turned the corner. This was where the low edge of the roof was, where he had put the most traps, and he had in mind to pause and scan the view here before proceeding, in case there was anyone lurking around with thoughts of trying to get up on that roof, and also to take a look at whether his traps had caught anything yet. To his surprise, however, Duinion was just in time to watch his roof captive jump from the edge. He tensed, wondering if he would need to chase him (which shouldn't be difficult, given the man's injury) but when he landed, there was no sound or movement from him. Had he landed on one of the traps? Casting a swift glance around, Duinion nudged his other captive onward, and moved swiftly toward the prone man on the ground. Unconscious, apparently. But he wasn't about to trust that he really was... he'd already proven to be sly and cunning, as well as tenacious. His hands were still bound, at least, but his feet were cut loose, and there was a small knife in his hand. Duinion frowned, nudging him with one foot to see if there was a reaction, then placed a boot on the man's back, lightly, but with enough pressure to keep him pinned. Keeping a tight grip on the other man's wrists, he leaned down and took the knife from his fingers. Hmm, interesting...

"Looks like he's saved me the trouble of getting him down." Duinion mentioned wryly. Since he had intended to deliver the first man to Pele, then go back for the 'Finger', he decided to wait until he regained consciousness, and deliver them both at once. But, just in case there were other dangerous folks around, he kept his conscious prisoner between himself and the line of fire, should anyone be hiding in the treeline where he couldn't see. Hopefully things were still going alright over there with the others. Since he had left his position on the roof, he had no idea how things were going for them, he realized, and felt a bit anxious about returning to check. He wasn't even sure if Kaylin had managed to get the bow he'd dropped for her, or if Pele had made it over to Kaylin and the others.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Arnyn

Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

"All right," Pele responded to Kaylin's suggestion. "Just be careful, though I'm sure you already know this. It might be quiet before the storm, for all I know. If you find Duinion, make sure, between the both of you, to check on the woman I left tied up to a tree over there. She said she's called Grey," She pointed out the general direction with her thumb. "We might end up with quite a cargo to transport back to the city, it seems," the Captain added more quietly, and not too happy at the option. Considering the skills of their captives, it might take considerable effort to keep them from escaping, and killing everyone off in the process.

Pele then turned her attention back to Firdaus and found herself rather amused by the look on his face - it seemed that his eyes were about to pop out of his forehead and he was about to protest, most likely about all the acting Kaylin had put up for him.

"I don't want to hear another word, Master Firdaus," Pele said to stop him from speaking and tossed a willow stick to him. "Bite down on this while I work on your wound. It will hurt." Gathering up the supplies to move from one spot to another, Pele spared a look at the boy sitting bound and making himself look even smaller than he was by curling up.

"I did not pay you to..." Firdaus began one of his complaints, as Pele moved to kneel at his side, but did not get any further and quickly bit into the stick she had provided when the healer unceremoniously cut through the make-shift bandages and part of his clothing to get to his wound. It was still bleeding, though not much, and Pele proceeded to wash the wound out thoroughly to inspect how bad it was and that it did not hold any dirt. "You could pay nothing, for all I care, Firdaus. And stop slouching, for goodness' sake," Pele instructed with her hands constantly busy. "Unless you prefer to bleed out here, since the wound bleeds worse when you keel over like a candle melting in the middle."

She suspected the wound was quite deep, yet there was not much to stitch as it did not go far lengthwise, and she preferred leaving the wounds unstitched if it was an option. She applied some of the yarrow ointment over the puncture wound to stop the bleeding and promote healing, and then looked through the bandages for longer ones that would fit around the man's considerable girth.

"So... did you do the stabbing, lad?" Pele asked just to check, glancing at the boy for a moment, and then turned back to the task at hand, ignoring the unintelligible mumbling from Firdaus as he tried to speak through the double hindrance of clenched teeth and the willow stick.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort
@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen

-
Kaylin / Hirilfael - Dagen

The look on Firdaus' face was so priceless, it would last her for a good while whenever she needed a pick-me-up. Having closed herself off to the fact that Mardan had passed on, she kept the grin as Pele gave her both permission and additional orders. After a quick nod, she moved around the cart while surveying the roof as well as the treeline.

She moved from the cart to the building, staying close to the wall and keeping an arrow nocked and ready, although the bowstring was not drawn. Mentally she thanked Thûllir for the many lessons over the years, which now made her feel comfortable and confident enough to rely on the bow and arrow in her hands. As she first peered around the corner, she startled slightly to see a cluster of three people. But as she took a second glance, she noted that Duinion looked to have a good grasp on the situation. Bow and arrow still at the ready, she rounded the corner and gave a low whistle to alert her fellow Ranger to her presence.

Once she had gotten closer, she indicated the treeline. "The Captain said she had another tied up somewhere over there. If you are good here, I can go retrieve her." She briefly eyed the Aspirant. He seemed like a meek one. He looked away just a few seconds after she'd fixed her gaze on him. He couldn't possibly be the Third. Her eyes moved to the man on the ground. She frowned. "This one is younger," she mumbled. Darudian had been older than her by a decade or so if she had to guess, whereas this man seemed even a few years younger than Kaylin. She looked at Duinion next. He looked in control; any warnings about how dangerous the Third could be, were likely unnecessary.
"I have no experience with this one, but I had a few meetings with his predecessor," Kaylin shared neutrally. "We might have to resort to keeping him unconscious from time to time if we are to take him back to the White City." She swallowed, hiding her slight uneasiness. "I should be back soon."

As Kaylin moved off into the greenery, Dagen stirred. He groaned quietly at the pressure of the boot on his back. Slowly, the realization hit that he'd lost consciousness due to the pain in his knee upon jumping from the roof. "Ranger," he growled. "Trying to push me into the dirt until I disappear?" Even though the pressure was not hard, he could not help the quip. After all, what else was there for him to do? He no longer had the knife in hand. Surely he would be bound even better this time around, once they had placed him where they intended him to go. Wherever that would be.

Meanwhile, a short laugh came from the greenery.

Grey was amused at the noble-looking lady with the serious expression and the bow she had at the ready. Yet Grey's amusement was soon diluted after Kaylin had untied her from the tree, when the Hyandaner cut the long rope Pele had used in two, retied Grey's hands deftly behind her back, and looped the other part of the rope around her ankles. Kaylin left enough slack for small steps, but too little to actually run - unless Grey wanted to land face-down in the dirt. "Move," Kaylin ordered, aiming the arrow at Grey's back. "To the inn."

The two of them re-emerged quickly enough, Grey first, followed by Kaylin. "Pele is looking at the merchant's wounds," the latter then told Duinion. "I figure she will bring Firdaus and his servant this way next. We need to alert the inn about..." she'd been about to say 'the body', and had to remind herself that 'the body' had been 'a man' just moments before. "About Mardan. The merchant's contact. He didn't make it."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

As he was waiting on the assassin to wake up, a whistle caught Duinion's attention, from near the corner of the building. Glancing up sharply, Duinion relaxed when he saw that it was only Kaylin, the ranger in disguise whom he had yet to meet. He was glad to see that she had grabbed the bow he'd dropped down for her, and gave her a small nod of greeting as she approached. At one point, he saw that she was near one of the traps, but as he opened his mouth to warn her, he saw that she would step clear of it. He relaxed slightly, but decided he'd better warn her about those once she got closer.

"I'd keep a little distance away from the wall there, if I were you," he mentioned as she approached. "I haven't set any lethal traps around the inn, but I suspect that you'd rather not end up in a snare like the squirrel here did," He told her with a nod toward the Aspirant, and a vague smirk. The man had looked away, and didn't see it. A little more serious, he listened to the lady mention another captive tied up in the woods. He nodded, glad that Pele had been able to have some success in that as well. "I was on my way to take these captives to her," he answered Kaylin. "Waiting on this one to wake up... He decided to jump off the roof, with one of my arrowheads in his knee." He added with a shake of his head, like one who is disappointed in a wayward child.

He listened with some curiosity as she spoke of the one man being younger. He wasn't sure what she meant, until she spoke a little more about it. He nodded as she mentioned having encountered the assassin's predecessor. Perhaps he'd get a chance to ask her later about that, since none of this 'hand' stuff made any sense to him. "Be careful," he warned Kaylin, as she prepared to leave to go find that other captive. He wondered if they had secured the area yet, or if there was still a question about whether there were more of these people around. Just in case, it wouldn't hurt for her to be wary.

Once she was gone, he glanced at both of his captives. The one was being... almost deceptively cooperative. The other awakened shortly after Kaylin had departed. His little quip merely brought an eye-roll from Duinion. "You can count yourself lucky you didn't land in a trap." He informed him. In fact, he noticed that Dagen had landed quite close to the foot trap, which would have been pretty painful for him if he'd stepped into it. Keeping a tight grip on the Aspirant's belt-shackles, he stashed the dagger away for later inspection, and then leaned down to grab the belt around Dagen's wrists. "Come on, up on your feet." He was beginning to lose patience with him, and so he wasn't all that gentle as he pulled on his arms, so that if Dagen didn't comply and get to his feet, he'd find his arms being pulled uncomfortably upward behind his back.

Before long, Kaylin had returned with her own captive held at arrow-point. With two captives to keep control of, Duinion had his bow positioned across his body, the string across his chest, with the bow across his back. It wasn't very comfortable, but left his hands free. "Is that all of them? Just three?" Duinion couldn't help feeling a little skeptical about that. He didn't like not knowing for sure. Then, she mentioned that Pele was tending to the merchant's wounds. Duinion was slightly surprised to hear that. Firdaus had been injured? He knew that the other man had been injured, but he hadn't been able to see Firdaus after the shots were fired... so how did that happen? And then.. the news got worse. The merchant's contact didn't make it. Briefly closing his eyes, Duinion dropped his head slightly, sorrowful at this news. He had failed in stopping the assassin, and now... a man was dead. He sighed, resisting the urge to kick the one responsible. "Let's get these three better secured." He suggested quietly as he looked back up at his fellow ranger, uneasy about how tenacious the one guy was about getting free. He didn't trust any of the three, and also wanted to be able to go check on Pele without worrying about the captives getting loose.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Arnyn

Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

It did not take Pele too much time to get Firdaus sorted, since she had decided to wait with any stitching. Everything done, she collected what remained of her supplies and put it away in her bag, before turning back to Firdaus. Considering the man's constant complaints and haughty attitude she almost wished she could make him keep the stick in his mouth for much longer to keep him from talking, but she needed an answer.

"Right. I assume you can walk," she addressed him. "We can't stay here forever, and it might be safer indoors. And I am surely not going to carry you." No more attacks had followed, and she wondered if all baddies had been rounded up or were some number of them still lying in wait somewhere. Yet, she'd want to get all of them out of here, and then sum up the whole situation to see what needed done.

"I can't walk! I am injured!" Firdaus whined, having gotten rid of the willow stick.

Pele did not respond to him and took the boy by the arm. "On your feet, lad. At least you have no trouble moving, aye?" While still holding him, though not too tightly, she finally responded to Firdaus. "Well, if you can't move, you'll just have to remain here while we ride off comfortably in your fancy wagons. Up, I said! It'll hurt, but it won't kill you to walk to the inn. Support yourself against the cart and pull yourself up."

With endless moaning and groaning the fat merchant eventually got himself upright, and with both him and the boy before her Pele got them moving towards the entrance of the inn while she constantly surveyed the surroundings prepared to counter any attacks.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort
@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen


Dagen

Dagen refused to groan when Duinion pulled him up by his bound hands. It seemed like he had little to no credit left with this particular Ranger. That could prove unfortunate, but Dagen thought it was unlikely that this one Ranger would remain his guard the whole way back to Minas Tirith... if that was where they were going, at least.
"Yes, very lucky," he said lightly, despite the crippling pain in his knee as he rose to his feet which only translated to a slight strain in his voice.

When Kaylin and Grey appeared, Dagen's eyes flicked over the grey-haired woman - he knew her, and she did not interest him - to the dark-haired woman behind her. He assessed her once again, this time with careful consideration. So she was not what she seemed. Not something he had picked up on earlier, which made her interesting.

She spoke of Firdaus and his servant, and the merchant having wounds. A faint smile settled on his lips. Then the boy had delivered. Good. Although Dagen would never admit to it openly, he was glad that the Hand had no reason to punish the lad.
The smile faded when the woman confirmed that Mardan had died, to make way for a professional and neutral expression. He had expected it, but confirmation was always good. Then his arrow, or Grey's, had proved true. He looked over to her, and gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

He remained silent. Death required no words, let alone quips.


Kaylin / Hirilfael

She felt the Third's eyes on her, but intentionally ignored them and chose not to return his gaze. Duinion suggested to secure their prisoners better. Kaylin frowned slightly as she looked more closely at how they were bound. Duinion had used their belts to tie their hands behind their backs. Effective. But when it came to the Third... not nearly enough, she thought. Then again, Duinion had mentioned earlier that the assassin had suffered an arrow to the knee, and that was a comforting thoughts. He should not be running or kicking anytime soon.

"Do you have any rope or string?" she asked Duinion. She only had one ribbon left, tied to one of her boots.

"You," she addressed Grey, "against the wall. And do try to avoid the traps," she said drily, not caring much whether the woman succeeded or not, given Mardan's passing. Once Grey had her back against the wall, Kaylin crouched down and put down the bow and arrow, her eyes staying on Grey as she untied the second and last ribbon around one of her boots. Quickly enough, she picked up the bow and arrow again and straightened. She knew that some people were adept at escaping hand ties, and would not put it past any of the Hand's servants to do so, least of all the Third.

"We should replace the belts with bindings that can go on tighter, with their wrists crossed behind their back and the bindings crossing across and in between their wrists as well as down their hands." Kaylin knew that made it impossible to escape the bindings without having a weapon or tool to cut through them. "We could also tie their ankles together. Makes it hard for them to run. Especially if one of them has a wound to the knee."

That is when Pele rounded the corner with Firdaus and his servant. Kaylin couldn't help but roll her eyes at the man's huffing and puffing, which was clearly visible even from a distance.

Once Pele got closer, Kaylin spoke up. "What's the plan, Captain? Duinion or I could do a quick tour of the immediate surroundings, if we want to be more confident there are no others? I think it should probably be you who informs the people at the inn about Mardan... Given you have the Captain's badge and they will be more likely to believe what happened if you flash it to them."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Pele Alarion

Merchant Escort

Tirdinen Duinion Raedor

"I have only a little string left, unless I go back to my horse." Duinion answered. "The rest is.. around here awaiting anyone bold enough to attempt to climb onto that roof. In case there are any others lurking around who heard his offer of reward, and haven't yet learned that he made it down on his own." He explained. "I'll disarm the traps when we're sure there are no more of these people around here." He listened as Kaylin suggested how better to tie them, and nodded. "If you'd like to do that, I'll secure them while you work." He offered, since she seemed to know plenty about tying prisoners. "The wound to the knee hasn't seemed to hinder him all that much, so it's probably a good idea to bind him as securely as possible." He frowned. "I had his ankles bound before, but I apparently missed a knife when I searched him, before."

As Pele appeared with the other two, Duinion was glad to see that Pele appeared unharmed. Kaylin spoke up, mentioning his name briefly, and Duinion let his gaze briefly rest on the merchant, wondering if he had noticed or would recognize the name, or if he had completely forgotten about the young orphan who had worked at his store so long ago. The ranger was mostly sorry to see that the man they'd been supposed to guard had been injured, although a tiny part of him couldn't resist thinking it served him right. Pushing that little voice away, deep in the back of his mind, Duinion's gaze moved next to the young man, noticing he looked about the same age as he had been when he had worked for Firdaus and his father so long ago.

"Is this another captive, or..?" He noticed how Pele had the boy in front of her, as if he were in custody, and wondered about him. Surely, he wasn't one of these Hand people? He was so young to have gotten mixed up in these murderers. He gave Pele an inquisitive look, wondering whether they would need to tie him up as well.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen
Merchant Escort
A village in South Ithilien

Pele took her time to observe the current situation - she already knew of Grey, but it was with some additional interest that she looked over Dagen. She deducted that he must be the Third Finger.

"Right..." she eventually said after having evaluated the circumstances and turning to Kaylin. "First we better make sure every one of these are well secured. Including the boy," Pele looked at Duinion briefly. Even though the boy had done a misdeed and had to be held to account, yet she wondered how much he was involved in it all and if it was possible to pull him out so that he would have a better life.

"A look around wouldn't hurt either, just to make sure we are not attacked when we least expect it," the Captain outlined further details. "Mardan does need to be taken care of, so I'll see that inn owners ensure some sort of burial for him. And then let's load up our live cargo and head back to the city without undue delay. And you, Firdaus, don't even think of any meals here, get yourself ready to leave."

Once more Pele's eyes returned to Dagen, evaluating the condition of his leg as far as she could see without a close-up inspection. "Suppose this one could do with a bandage before being loaded in the cart," she concluded.

She was eager to return to the city and hand over the investigation to the city guard since it seemed to deal more with local crimes even though complex in essence unless some other aspects became known which would still leave it as a matter to be settled by Rangers. All in all, she hoped that they would be able to settle the matter of aftermath of the encounter and leave within an hour to head back home.

[Arnyn]

Merchant Escort
@Pele Alarion
@Rillewen


Kaylin / Hirilfael

In the end, Kaylin was the one to secure the prisoners: Dagen, Grey, the Aspirant and the servant boy. She tied them as securely as she knew how, and in the case of the Third she also tied his bound hands with a long sash that she looped around his neck. If he were to pull his hands down his back too much, it would be... uncomfortable. There was no way he was going to try and reach anything this time.

As Kaylin did this and Pele kept a careful watch, Duinion did a thorough sweep of the surroundings. He came back finding nothing, after which he took to disarming the traps he had set earlier while Kaylin kept an eye on the prisoners. The Captain dealt with matters at the inn. It took longer than Kaylin would have preferred, but she supposed that the news Pele was bringing was not easy to digest for the owner.

Upon Pele's return, she took a look at the Third's knee. Their arrival at Firdaus' wagon was met with gasps from his other servants, especially at seeing one of their own bound among dangerous-looking criminals. Firdaus threw another fit when it became clear that the prisoners would be riding his comfortable wagon and he would be taking the boy's place. Duinion and Pele had their horses and Kaylin drove the wagon. It was time to go home.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Ranger Thûllir Bregedýr
Solo Scouting Mission - Ithilien
Early Spring.

There were many memories of both long boredom and empty night watches amongst these hills, and desperate chases that led to close fought skirmishes and anxious moments. It was still so strange to be able to walk openly in these lands rather than needing to be absolutely hidden, yet Thûllir found himself as watchful as in former days. Traveling and scouting alone meant that he had to have more of a care for safety, and thus secrecy, than in the protection of company. He had heard some of the tales the king had told of his years traversing the lands here and to the north, always alone, and had been impressed. It was easier to remain concealed when alone, but more difficult when encountering the enemy.

He’d had to use his snowshoes to get out beyond the drifts that would have exhausted him to wade through without the support of the sinew laced willow hoops. But then the fickle weather changed again to bring warm sunshine and a breath of green-scented air from the south that had the snow quickly melting away and brought the sound of trickling water all around. Fog rose as Thûllir pushed his way up to a narrow track along the mountain side and shifted to a swift half-run traveling north along the steep slopes while remaining vigilant for signs of passage along the trail ahead and to the sides. The fog hid his movement, but it also hid the terrain from his sight. A mountain goat had crossed the trail there by the mark of narrowly pointed cloven hooves. Further along the path started to turn north-east, and he could look down at the road in the distance, and the fields beyond that where in long years past the wainriders had been defeated by Eärnil. Thûllir found a rock to rest behind as he surveyed the distances. Nothing moved on the plain or across the road other than an occasional animal.

He stayed there several hours, keeping watch on the road and examining the folds of the land from the heights. Once the shadows started to grow long he made a simple camp once more, although this night he only made a small enough shelter to cover his bedroll and crawl into. It was still chilly, but he would stay dry. It was always better to start the day with dry gear. There were many days he had not had that small luxury.

The next three days he spent out on those plains, investigating the folds in the land and areas of brush that would have served as cover for anyone hiding from watchers on the hills. There were occasional signs of passage, but nothing new, and no signs of large groups outside of the normal campsites that were frequented by traders near the road. He did catch sight of one wagon train on the third day, but they were well organized and carried the banner of one of the trade guilds, and he didn’t approach them. It would be for the border guards or those at Osgiliath to check their credentials.

Thûllir ranged as far north as the border of the Dead marshes before turning south once more and winding his way swiftly down to the River and the crossing at Cair Andros. It had been a long solitary trip, and he was glad to see familiar faces again. His legs were weary from pushing his pace the last several days, but he had made it just in time to not be considered missing.
He spent a day at the fort there, discussing his observations with those stationed there and enjoying the warmth of shelter and good food, before setting off the next day to cross the river the rest of the way and head home. It had thankfully been a mostly uneventful trip for once, but he was glad to be going home.

***wrapping up this mission***

[Ercassie]

Domanol Raxëlilta
If you Go Down to the Woods Today - Part 2
with Duinion Raedor @Rillewen
North Ithilien, approx. 20 years ago
Post 1 is HERE. And Rill's last Reply is HERE

“Yahh !” Domanol shouted, right along with the man who had leapt out at him. He had instinctively fallen back a pace or two in as much surprise as thought to put space between him and … Duinion ?! His arms were both raised, the City Guard noted belatedly and feeling rather foolish as he slowly lowered them with a whistle. Ever so more foolish it must have looked, when he realised he brandished naught but the little blue flower in his fingers, and had naturally bruised the stem in his panic so that the small colourful head now had bent over.

His friend was equally doubled over although he had succumbed to amusement rather than alarm.


The elder of the two threw his smile sideways even as his blood-brother bade him not to turn his back upon the forest. Something big brother had said. Naturally. Domanol rolled brown eyes skyward.

“Well now that we are two, we can look more ways at once,” he celebrated. “As for never knowing what might spring out of the shadows … I dare say I know you well enough by now.” He grasped the younger man’s hand and without even hesitating he spat in his other hand, before dropping it onto their already clasp shake. Dragging the hands down with that added weight, he then pushed both up again and released the young Ranger entirely. The suggestion of a laugh escaped him without properly breaking out into full force.


Before he could even ask why or rather how Duinion had snuck away from the Ranger Patrol, his friend explained that away. He was to be his escort. “Hah ! I found you lot, didn’t I ?” he pushed his friend away, goodnaturedly with a light shove to the upper arm. And refrained from mentioning that he’d gotten fair directions from the causeway guards as to which route the patrol was taking. To be fair, it had looked as though the Rangers had known full well he was following their trek. Had no doubt heard him tripping and pushing through the forest with enough time to set up their little trap. They’d looked very much like they were expecting him.

“You’re right though. They don’t know with any certainty how lost a silly city guard might get out here. I don’t think they’ll be expecting me back … for aaaaaaaaages . I might have gotten soooo lost ! Of course it was expected that I would be bringing my brother back with me. But clearly he doesn’t even care about … oh, Luisa had the baby. I’m an uncle. You too. You know.”

Luisa was naturally going to be furious that he was returning to her empty-handed. Either his mother or his sister in law were usually furious and most usually with one another. Clearly each thought that they were the woman of the house. But arguing over keeping the plates in one cupboard or the other would see them taking turns to switch them back and forth in some kind of petty territorial war. Domanol was not surprised his brother spent so much time out here. It was just so unfair that he could not come as well.

Of course, he was here … now …

“So come on then, what is so appealing out here that would even keep a father from his newborn babe ? You’re going to have to show me. Maybe something over … there ….” he dashed off sideways into the woods. It was not as though his ‘escort’ could abandon him to his any whim out here in the ‘danger zone’ after all !

The small blue flower lay forgotten on the path behind.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

|

Aderic Androllius with Lady Alyssa 'Ansellidus'
Late July
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus
(Continued from here)

The white mare stepped wearily after her owner as he led her up the path, stopping before the gates. Said owner was far wearier than his horse, despite the fact one would think it the other way around.

“Lord Ansellidus,” The castle's gate guard stood at attention as the visitor approached, looking somewhat nervous, as if he expected a rebuke of some sort.

Ric held back a sigh as the man not only spoke his brother’s false name and title, but mistook him for the false Lord. He still had no idea how Mar had pulled that deception off without raising any eyebrows, but he felt sure it was not the way that he had claimed to have acquired all of this, when Ric inquired how he came to be lord of the Ansellidus estate. “Nay, I am not he.” he corrected the man, as usual. "I have come here looking for my brother, however. Have you seen him, or had any news of his whereabouts?"

"Nay, sir." The guard relaxed marginally. "It's possible he may have arrived during the previous watch, however." He mentioned, and allowed Ric to pass through. He had come here often enough, with that same reason for coming, that the guard saw no reason to deny him access.

After leaving Lady with a groom, Ric continued on his way to the house, entrusting his treasured steed to the care of the stableman, without even staying to see to her care himself, as he normally would. This was no pleasure visit. His business was urgent, and he hoped very much to find his brother at home, despite knowing it would be unpleasant business.

A servant had preceded him to the house in order to declare his arrival to the Lord and Lady of the castle. Ric did not try to stop them. The more ‘normal’ his visit seemed, the less likely Mar would suspect the reason for it. Ric was ushered into the lavishly decorated parlor, to await his host, or hostess. While he preferred the latter, he was hoping for the former, in this case. He took a deep breath and waited, trying his best to steel his nerves. Trying to remind himself why this was the right thing to do. The best thing to do. The only thing to do.

The soft rustle of cloth preceded her entrance, mingled with a trace of the apple blossom scent. Her perfume. Ric’s heart leaped slightly as he turned to see Alyssa enter the parlor. He fought to keep a smile at bay, as he bowed politely to Lady ‘Ansellidus’. “My lady, always a delight to see you.” He spoke softly, yet genuinely.

“Aderic, lovely to see you as well.” She answered, with a warm and genuine smile. “It's a lovely day for a walk in the garden, if you would like?” She offered, which was their usual custom for their visits; walking together, in plain view of the various staff around the grounds, accompanied by Merilda, so that no one could accuse either of them of doing anything scandalous.

Ric gave a sad shake of his head. “I’m afraid not this time,” he answered, moving a step closer. “I must speak with my brother. Is he here?”

Alyssa paused then, taking in the way that he looked. Anxious. Weary. Troubled. “No,” She answered slowly, part of her glad that was the case, but the other part curious and concerned. “Ric,” She dropped her voice even as she dropped the formalities a bit. “You look exhausted and troubled. What’s wrong?”

Glancing away from her, Ric passed a hand over his face, sighing. “I am troubled. But I don’t wish to burden you with this matter. Are you expecting him anytime soon?”

“I never know when to expect him.” She answered with the faintest hint of resentfulness in her voice. And the longer he was away, the happier she would be. Though she didn't say as much, it was easily readable in her hazel eyes. Easily for him, anyway.

Ric paused, giving a small nod of understanding to her frustration, and wondered if the average person would have even detected that note, or been able to read between the lines. Still, he let out a little sigh of his own frustration and tried to think of what else to do. “It’s quite urgent. I don’t suppose you know where else I might find him? Or would you know of anyone else who might know?”

“I’m sorry,” She answered sympathetically. “I wish I could help you further. But come,” She changed her tone slightly, not commanding, but invitingly, “you clearly need food and rest. There are plenty of guest rooms here, and I would not be such a poor hostess as to see a guest leave here without at least being properly fed. Especially one who is family.”

Ric managed a smile at her kindness, feeling almost as if he were rejuvenated merely from hearing her words. “I assure you, my lady, it is unnecessary…” he protested.

But she would hear no protests and requested for one of the servants to get a meal ready for the guest. “Merilda, please see that the guest quarters are made ready for the lieutenant,” Alyssa instructed her handmaid, passing this task on to her personal handmaid, the only servant she fully trusted.

Ric bowed his head slightly, feeling a little pang at the word 'lieutenant', but he could not bring himself to mention that particular detail to Alyssa... that he didn't think he was still a lieutenant at all. It stung, and he couldn't really bring that up without bringing up everything else that he wished to keep to himself for now.

"Yes, m'lady," Merilda bobbed a little curtsy and hurried off to see to her task, though it was clear the young woman was disappointed to miss out on hearing about whatever was going on.

Conversation was limited while Ric ate. Alyssa sat across from him at the table, mostly to keep him company, since she had already eaten not long ago. She did not press him with any further questions, allowing him to eat while only making a few small comments here and there to keep the room from being awkwardly quiet.

Despite feeling famished, Ric maintained his manners even if he failed to maintain any sort of conversation. A little bit of small talk was all they managed, and when Merilda popped back in to report that the guest chambers were ready, he was finishing his plate. "Thank you," he said to the servant who came to take the plate away. Turning to Alyssa, he began to explain, "I have not stopped to rest or eat since I set out from the city..."

“Nevermind," Alyssa stopped him gently. "Go now, and rest. Anything you wish to say to me, it can wait until after you’ve slept.” She insisted.

Ric rose and bowed politely to the lady of the castle. “My humble thanks for your hospitality, my lady.” He answered quietly, then paused before adding, “Please, if.. if Ademar comes, tell him that I am here, and that I desperately need to speak with him." He asked.

"I will," She promised, though with a slight look of unease in her expression.

"It’s very important, but that’s all that I can say right now. And..” Ric hesitated, catching her hand lightly. “Be careful of him, Alyssa.” He whispered, and lightly squeezed her hand.

Turning before he felt tempted to kiss the hand that belonged to another, he followed the bubbly maidservant, who could not stop chatting the entire time she led him to the chambers. He was so tired he hardly heard a word Merilda said, and was glad to fall into bed and sleep for the first time since he had left Minas Tirith in such haste.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Ademar Androllius (aka, ‘Lord Ansellidus’)
with his wife, Lady Alyssa 'Ansellidus'
Late July
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus

“What did he want?” Ademar’s voice, coming from the doorway behind her, startled Alyssa.

Whirling around, she let out a little gasp, then tried to relax a little. “Ademar, you startled me. I didn’t know you were home,” She admitted, confused. “Your brother is here, asking for you. He needs to-”

“I know he’s here, that’s why I asked what he wanted.” Mar retorted, stepping closer. “What does he want with me?”

“I.. don’t know,” She frowned, confused. “He didn’t say. But he said it’s urgent. If you hurry, you ought to be able to catch him before he goes to sleep.”

“I have no intention of 'catching him'. I want to know why he’s here.” Mar declared, and smirked. “Besides, I doubt he’ll be awake enough to talk about anything for quite some time.” He held up an empty vial and smiled at Alyssa.

She tensed, feeling alarmed by this sight. “What.. what is that? What have you done to him?” She asked, fearing that her husband might have put something in Ric’s food, though she had no idea why he would.

Mar laughed, seeing the look on Alyssa’s face. “What, you think I might have poisoned him?” He asked with amusement.

“Well, then.. what did you do to him?” Alyssa demanded, frightened, but more for Ric than for herself. “What did that vial contain?” She looked worriedly at it, her stomach clenching up in knots.

“Just a little something to make him sleep. He’ll wake up in… a day or two, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry. Why are you so concerned, anyway?”

Alyssa frowned, hiding her relief that he would be alright. But she was upset, regardless. “He came to talk to you. Why would you do that to him?”

Mar rolled his eyes and tossed the vial onto the table. “It won’t hurt him. I just needed him out of my way for a little while. You don’t actually think I’d kill my own brother, do you?”

“You killed my brother.” She retorted softly, looking down in her grief.

Mar scoffed. “Your brother was a nuisance. I was glad to get rid of him.”

“Reilly was your friend.” Alyssa replied, frowning at him, still unable to believe how he could say these things.

“No, he was Ric’s friend.” Mar scowled and turned away from her. “Stealing my brother away, turning him against me...” He huffed. “I should’ve kept him suffering longer.” He muttered under his breath, then turned back to Alyssa. “Ric came directly from Minas Tirith, didn’t he?”

She hesitated, remembering to be careful with her responses. “That is what he said, yes.”

Mar thought for a moment, resting his hand against his jaw thoughtfully. “Urgent business, wouldn’t say what it's about… he no longer wears his lieutenant badge…" he muttered thoughtfully, then his frown deepened. "I have a feeling I know why he’s come here.”

Alyssa was somewhat startled to hear that about the badge, and realized she hadn’t even noticed.

“Yes.. of course, he’s been arrested…” Mar muttered to himself, sighing.

“Arrested?” Alyssa repeated, alarmed. “Ric?” She felt her heart leap into her throat, fearing what might have happened to cause him to be arrested. He would never commit any crime, she was certain of that!

Mar blinked at her, staring at her as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, of course not Ric. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s here, isn’t he?” he rolled his eyes, as if she were stupid for asking such a thing. He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and frowned. “Still, with Arkadhur arrested…” He shook his head slightly. “This means… trouble.” He scowled before walking out of the room abruptly.

Alyssa hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit confused and uneasy. She wanted to go and see whether Ric really was alright, and see if she might find out more from him, but she also thought she should find out what Mar was doing. Perhaps he would tell her more? She doubted it, but still thought it was worth a try. Tentatively, she followed him down the hallway. “Who is Arkadhur?” She wondered, frowning as she trailed along after him.

Ademar sighed, turning back to her. “You don’t know him. Don’t worry about who he is. And don’t repeat that name to anyone, either.” he warned, realizing he ought not have spoken that out loud. At least it was only to her. He could make sure she kept quiet.

Alyssa stopped, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity, concern, and unease. He actually looked… almost worried. For perhaps the first time that she could recall, he looked like he didn’t know what to do. It was unsettling, since he always seemed to have his plans laid out very carefully and never seemed to let himself be caught by surprise. At least, as far as she could tell.

“Alyssa,” He turned to her after standing for a moment in thought. “Go and pack your things.”

She looked back at him in shock. “Pack?”

“You heard me!” he retorted. “Don’t argue. Just go and get your things together.”

Alyssa stared at him, wondering if she’d heard him right, but didn’t dare argue. “We..we’re going somewhere then? For… how long?”

“Nevermind that.” He grabbed her arm roughly and marched her down the hallway. “We need to go. I have no idea what he might have told them, but whatever he said, it was enough to bring Ric here asking questions. And he must've been stripped of his rank, and I don’t intend to stick around and see if he’s got a whole troop of guards on his tail, leading them straight to me. Now go and pack!” He pushed her toward the hallway leading to her chambers. “Quickly!”

Alyssa stumbled forward a few steps, glanced back at him nervously, wondering if she ought not push her luck asking questions. But then, remembering her sister… her bold, defiant, brave little sister, who had stood her ground against this terrifying man, despite all he did to their family. Alyssa kept her in mind as she took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Why must I go too?” She asked, trying not to let a tremor enter her voice.

Mar stopped and frowned at her, having been about to set off toward his own chambers. “Because I said so.”

Alyssa was careful not to cringe. “You are the one fleeing from the guards, not me.” She answered. “Why must you drag me along? Would I not slow you down?”

Mar walked back toward her, annoyance obvious in his darkened expression. “As if I would trust you to stay here, with all you could tell about me?” He sneered. “And I wouldn’t put it past you to free Ric the moment he wakes, either.” He shook his head. “No, you’re coming with me, where you can't do anything I wouldn't like.” He brushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “You get your things together and be ready to leave in an hour.” He then grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, then pushed her to get her started. “Alyssa,” He called after her. “You wouldn’t want your father to suffer any further… would you?”

As her despicable husband reminded her of the threat which he continually hung over her head, about what he would do to her beloved father if she didn’t obey his orders, Alyssa dared not push her luck any further. Glancing back at him, she let out a shaky breath. "I'll pack my things." She answered quietly, but she couldn't help giving him a loathing look before she turned away.

Hastening down the hallway toward her chambers, her mind raced as she fled to the rooms that she had lived in since becoming his wife. She had never seen him quite like this before, preparing to leave all of this and flee.. to where, she couldn’t say. It made her feel anxious, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes, but refused to let them fall. She must be strong, for her father, and her sister. And for Ric. She had no idea what might happen to him, but she hoped that he would be alright, regardless of whatever was happening.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Aderic Androllius
Late July (approx. 2 days later)
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus, guest chambers

Ric woke up feeling very groggy, and not entirely sure if he was awake or not. With a quiet groan, he rolled over and drifted off again, unwilling to be awake just yet. Some half-conscious thought tugged at his brain, trying to remind him there was a reason he should wake up. But he had to struggle to remember what it was. He drifted somewhere between waking and sleeping for several more hours.

It was a long while before he began thinking a little more clearly. Slowly, the events began to return to the front of his mind, though it still felt a bit hazy. The witnesses presenting their accusations. The missing records. The prisoner, Arkadhur, accusing him of everything. The meeting with the captain. Learning that his lieutenant rank had all been a scam, given only because of a bribe. Sea-green eyes opened slowly, staring off to his side, at an unfamiliar wall and bedside table. Both were far more elaborate and luxurious than any he was used to. A few more memories came flooding back. His hasty exodus from the city. Arriving at Mar’s castle. Alyssa. He had been famished and exhausted. How long had he slept? A glance out of a nearby window revealed that it appeared to be late in the evening, yet he was certain he had arrived in the late afternoon. Had he slept only a couple of hours, or.. far longer than he expected?

Slowly sitting up in the bed, in a room which was furnished more lavishly than any he’d ever personally occupied, Ric rubbed his still-weary eyes and looked around. He hardly remembered coming to this room at all. In fact, the last thing he really remembered, was bidding Alyssa farewell, and warning her to be careful of Mar. Yes. Mar... it was urgent that he find his brother. He needed to get up, no matter how comfortable it was to remain in bed. No matter how much he still wanted to sleep.

Stretching out his arms and legs, he was marginally embarrassed to realize he had forgotten to even take off his uniform, which was now a bit wrinkled from him sleeping on it. He sighed in frustration as he looked down, disappointed in himself for that. He always strove to keep his uniform in the neatest possible condition. He always tried to look his best… but then, he might not even be in the guard anymore. After swinging his feet (still booted!) down to the floor, he put his forehead in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees, and sighed. He still felt exhausted, and suspected he had only had a brief nap. Still, he couldn’t linger here overlong. He had a job to do. The sooner he brought Mar back to face his crimes, the sooner Ric would be cleared… hopefully. He had no idea how it was going to turn out. But he was determined he would not return to Minas Tirith without his brother in tow. At least then, there was a chance that he would get a fair trial. People would at least finally realize that they were twins, and then… well, he didn’t want to try and think too far ahead of all the potential outcomes.

Standing slowly, Ric took a moment to look around the room. The suite, rather, he corrected himself, as he noticed that there were other rooms branching off from the bedroom. The guest chambers of Mar’s castle were larger than his own apartment back in Minas Tirith! With a lingering feeling of sleepiness, Ric began exploring these guest chambers, and found a washroom connected to the side of the bedroom, complete with a bathtub and changing area, a wardrobe and chest of drawers. There was even a fresh set of clothing, simple but of good quality, laid out on the top of a chest of drawers, as if someone (Alyssa, perhaps?) had anticipated that he would need a change of clothes when he awakened. Smiling faintly at the thought behind this kindness, he took the opportunity to wash up and get dressed.

After returning to the bedroom in new clothes provided by someone, Ric investigated another door leading off from the bedchamber. He found a sitting room containing upholstered chairs and couches, a large bookshelf full of books, and other items to provide the room’s occupant with entertainment. An unlit fireplace was situated on the wall shared with the bedroom, and he remembered seeing the other side of it in the bedroom.

Through another open doorway, he could see a room set up as a small study, with a writing desk and more shelves with more books, paper, and writing instruments, and probably other things as well, but he didn’t go explore that. Focusing his attention back to the sitting room, he was intrigued to find a covered tray left on the coffee table near the couch. Lifting the cover, he was further surprised to find an assortment of food left there, and it appeared as if it had been prepared not long ago. He hesitated. He was in a hurry to find out whether Mar had come back or not, and if not, to go looking for him. But, he was also quite hungry. And he half-assumed that Alyssa was to thank for this, and he would not like for her kind intentions to be wasted. He sat down to eat.

It was then that he noticed a note, folded once and stood beside the plate, like a little paper tent, with his name written on the side which would be facing him when he lifted the cover. Curious, he picked it up, expecting it to be from Alyssa. Hoping, perhaps, anyway. But he was surprised to find his brother’s handwriting, instead.

Dear Ric,
I’m sorry that I missed a chance to chat with you, but I’m afraid I couldn’t wait for you to awaken. You see, I don’t intend to let you destroy my life and take over all that I have. I know that’s what you planned to do. You have always been far too predictable. I also know what you intended to ask of me. But I am not a fool. I refuse to lie for you about these crimes of yours, and I certainly don’t intend to let you frame me for them! If you actually thought you could pin it all off on someone else, you’re sadly mistaken.

As for the rooms, I do hope they are to your liking. I know you’re probably upset, but don’t hold a grudge against me for this; it is for your own protection as well as mine. While I don’t intend to take the fall for your underhanded and questionable deeds, it doesn’t mean I want to see you executed for these horrendous crimes, no matter what you’ve done. So forgive me for my ‘enforced hospitality’, if you will. Perhaps we will meet again someday in better circumstances. In the meanwhile, I suggest you take this time to reflect on your poor choices, and make the most of this opportunity. It may take a long time before you’re able to show your face anywhere without persecution. Someday, perhaps you’ll even thank me.

Best of luck,
M

P.S. The servants will see to your needs, but the guards have their orders. Do not try to trick them.

Confused by what he had read, Ric read through the note again, and a worrying suspicion began to gnaw at him. A sense of apprehension began to settle in his stomach. Swiftly leaping up from the couch, he tossed the note down as he hastened to the main door of the chambers, which should lead to the hallway, and tried to open it. His heart sank as his suspicion became hard fact. The door was locked securely from the outside. Perhaps even bolted. No! He tried again, shaking the door, as if that might help something. It didn’t. Feeling a bit desperate, he pounded his fist on the door. “Hello?” He called, but no one answered him. “Let me out!” He demanded in frustration. “MAR!” He yelled, one of the few times he had ever raised his voice so loud. After waiting a moment and hearing nothing, he tried the knob yet again, though he wasn’t sure why. Did he actually expect it to be unlocked if he tried it a third time? When it failed to open, he stepped back, staring in dismay. He sank onto the couch again, burying his face in his hands. How could his brother do this to him? And that note…

Picking it up, he scanned it once again. Mar had written it as if… as if trying to implicate that Ric was the guilty one. He clenched his jaw as a wave of anger swept through him, and crumpled the paper in his fist. He flung it across the room and let out a heavy sigh as he dropped his face in his hands again, struggling not to give in to despair. He was stuck, cut off from the world… imprisoned by his own brother.