Ithilien, Harondor, The Eastern Fiefdoms (Free RP)

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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Aderic Androllius and Merilda
Late July (next day)
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus, guest chambers


Ric woke feeling much more rested, this time. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he’d felt so exhausted before that he had laid down again to nap. It seemed to be the next day, though he couldn’t tell. All he could be sure of was that it was now morning, and when he’d laid down, it had been evening.

Something had wakened him. A sound, he thought. Leaping out of bed, he ran a hand over his hair, glanced around, and then thought he heard someone in the next room. Anxious to speak with someone, he hurried into the sitting room. The door was open, but in the doorway stood two armed guards. Merilda, Alyssa’s personal handmaid, was carefully setting a tray on the table.

“Merilda!” Ric exclaimed, relieved to see a friendly face.

She jumped with a little gasp, then let out a shaky breath. “Lieutenant, you startled me,” She apologized, dropping her gaze.

“My apologies. What is going on?” he frowned at the guards blocking the doorway, but focused on the young maid. “What news can you tell me?” He asked, knowing how the girl normally liked to chatter and gossip. She would be an excellent source of information.

She glanced toward the guards with a mix of guilt and nervousness as she straightened, then dropped her gaze apologetically. “I’m sorry, sir... but, the master says you’re to remain here, no matter what.” She explained.

Ric let out a long, quiet sigh. “Yes. I.. got that impression.” He glanced past her again, but the guards didn’t seem to be protesting him speaking to the girl. He suspected that if he tried to move for the door, they would react. So, for now, he remained where he was, unwilling to provoke any violence that might cause harm to the maid.

“I’m supposed to clean your rooms, Lieutenant. Is that acceptable?” She asked tentatively.

Ric nodded slowly, feeling a bit concerned. She was not normally so anxious and timid, and he wondered what the reason for it might be. He sat down to eat while she went to tend to the other rooms. Glancing at the guards, Ric spoke to them. “Why am I being held prisoner?”

“Lord Ansellidus has given his orders.” One replied curtly. And he could get nothing else out of them.

Sighing in frustration, he finished his breakfast in silence and then went into the study, where Merilda was dusting. “Tell me, please, Merilda,” Ric spoke softly. “What’s going on out there? What's happened while I've been locked in here?”

She looked up hesitantly, brown eyes wide with worry. She glanced through the open door into the next room, as if checking if those guards were listening, and then kept her voice low as she spoke. “Lieutenant, I’m frightened.” She admitted. “He’s taken Lady Alyssa away, and I’m terribly worried for her. Made her pack up her things the very same day you came here. But she had nothing to do with it!” She was sure to add hastily. “She protested it quite a bit, you know..”

“I'm sure she did,” Ric assured her with a faint smile. Of course, Alyssa had protested. He hadn’t even suspected that she would have been involved in this, but it was nice to hear confirmation of the fact, regardless. “How long has it been since then?” Ric asked, feeling anxious to hear this news.

“Th-three days now.” Merilda answered, frowning. “He took the lady away, and gave strict orders to all the staff that you’re not to be let out no matter what. I thought..” She blinked back tears. “I thought I would be going with Lady Alyssa, but…” She sniffled and wiped her eyes quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright.” Ric spoke gently. “I know, you care very much for her. As do I,” He added more quietly. He was rather worried, wondering where Mar might have taken her, and why. But he felt sure that couldn't be what had Merilda so nervous. “What then? What’s happened to make you so frightened?”

Merilda hesitated, glancing around again before stepping cautiously closer. “There’s been.. a lot of folks dying, all around the castle. Th-the gate guards, the gardeners, and several servants... and so many others." She gave a few names. "I don’t know why, and I’m so afraid.” She explained with wide eyes.

Ric caught his breath, alarmed by this news. He felt he should say something comforting to the young woman, but he could think of nothing to say. His thoughts were racing. Gate guards.. gardeners.. all of those she listed sounded like people whom he had become familiar with, from his previous visits. The thought was unsettling… “How are these deaths occurring?” He wondered, slowly taking a seat at the desk, feeling a bit stunned.

Merilda fidgeted, her hand idly toying with the feathers in her duster. “D-different ways, sir.” She listed a few incidents, and in each of them, Ric could practically see his brother behind it. As usual, there was nothing to prove he had actually done any of it, but his gut was telling him that this was being done with a purpose. But what purpose? He let out a sigh and dropped his face into his hands, elbows propped on the desk. If only he had a better idea of what Mar’s plans were... what he was trying to accomplish, what he had in mind... then perhaps Ric could manage to find some way to stop him.

“We have to get out of here,” He spoke at last, breaking a momentary silence.

Merilda was watching him, eyes wide. "How?" She whispered.

“You must help me, Merilda."

"Help you?" She bit her lip, looking back toward the door, as if fearing the guards would overhear. "But.. what if I get caught?"

"Please?” Ric asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he was feeling, but at the moment, she seemed like his only hope. "If you help me get out of here, I will help you escape, as well." He promised. "You can come with me, and I'll see that you get someplace safe, I promise."

“Oh, I believe you, but.. what could I do?” She asked softly, a little shaky.

Ric sat back, thinking for a moment, and looked around. “Rope..” he muttered. Getting up, he went to the window and looked out. Of course, it was very high. There was a sheer drop down to the ground, several stories high. Below, the ground was rocky and perilous. “If I had some rope, I could get out of here,” he glanced at her. “Could you get me some?”

Merilda bit her lip and glanced toward the door where the guards waited. They couldn’t hear them from in the study, but she looked nervous anyway. “I.. I don’t know. How would I even do that? They’d stop me, for sure.”

Ric tapped a finger thoughtfully on the windowsill, considering. “You bring the laundry, yes? Could you smuggle a length of rope in your basket, under all the linens?”

“Oh… I don’t know..” She frowned, trying to imagine that in her head. “I’m not even sure where I would get rope. And if I get caught trying to help you escape...”

"I know," he nodded. There was no need for her to explain what she believed would happen. Suppressing a sigh, Ric paced in front of the window. While it was frustrating, he realized she was right. She wouldn’t be able to get him anything like that. It would probably make her basket too heavy, too, if she tried to bring him enough to do anything with it. She'd have to get help carrying it, and then that would make someone suspicious.

“Look, I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I have to go.” She whispered after a moment. “They’ll get upset if I take too long. But I’ll come back with your meal tonight.” She promised. "Maybe you'll have thought of something by then?" She added, hopefully. "I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do."

Ric nodded. “Yes, of course.” He didn’t want her to get into trouble, especially if there was a risk of being killed. “Go on. I’ll try to think of something.” He paused. “And, thank you, Merilda.” He added. She didn't know it, but he felt a little glimmer of hope, now that he knew she would be coming by each day. He knew that Alyssa considered her more like a best friend than a servant, and he also knew she could be trusted. He just hoped she wouldn't get in any trouble on account of him... "Stay safe." He added as the girl headed for the door.

After the maid had hurried off to tackle other tasks, Ric paced around, roaming from room to room. At least he had a few in which to pace. He shook his head in slight amazement at the thought that he and his brother had shared an attic for a bedroom, in their small home, growing up. Now, Mar had taken possession of an enormous castle in which even a guest could have a collection of rooms at his disposal. It was all far too big for Ric’s liking, to be honest. He’d rather have a small, cozy little cottage, personally, but he was also perfectly content with his little apartment in the city.

With a sinking feeling, he suddenly thought of his apartment. He wondered how long he might be trapped here. Would the rent he’d paid in advance run out while he was gone? What if he lost the apartment? While that was, honestly, the least of his worries, it would be quite upsetting to lose his home and the few belongings that remained there. Standing at the window, he gazed out as far as he could see. The only consolation in all of this, was that if Mar got caught doing any of his criminal activities, it would be Mar getting arrested, and he couldn't try to pin it on Ric no matter how hard he tried, since Ric was miles away, locked up and unable to go anywhere near the crime scene, even if he wanted to.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 9:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Aderic Androllius and Merilda
End of August
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus, guest chambers



“Good morning, sir. How’re you feeling today?” Merilda asked cheerily, coming in with a tray of breakfast. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and it promised to be a lovely day. Too bad he couldn't go outside and enjoy it. At least Merilda was more like her usual self than she had been nearly a month ago. Though the many deaths had frightened her, she had gradually begun to relax when it stopped, and nothing had happened to her.

Ric forced a smile, having only recently woken up. “I’m alright, thank you Merilda. You needn’t worry; I don't think anything is broken.” He assured her, though he felt too sore to try and get out of bed for at least another day. Having tried to force his way past the guards at his doors a couple of days ago, he had quickly learned that it was not a good idea. Yet, he was getting desperate. Every plan he had come up with so far had failed. He had even tried to get Merilda to bring as many sheets and things as possible, a few at a time, so he could cut them into strips, and tie them together to form a rope. But Merilda couldn’t get him enough, because after a point someone began to notice the things going missing. She had become nervous that they might notice that she was bringing clean sheets into his rooms, and not taking any back out. So, his ‘rope’ only hung about halfway down the wall, and there was still far too much distance to even think about trying to jump the rest of the way down. He had stowed it under his bed for now, and had left it as it was. But he hadn’t yet figured out what to do with it. Perhaps it would be useful for some other plan he had yet to think of.

“And you needn’t call me ‘sir’, by the way.” He added.

“Well, it seems improper to use your name… and you said not to call you lieutenant anymore, although I’m not sure why. Do you not like being a lieutenant?” She wondered, glancing at him in puzzlement. "I thought you were pleased when you got the promotion..."

Ric sighed and remained silent for a moment, while Merilda looked at him curiously. “To be honest,” He began, hesitant, but decided that he might as well own up to the truth. “I am not a lieutenant anymore. Nor was I ever truly one, to begin with.” He admitted.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head, even more puzzled by this.

Ric looked off at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as he found it difficult to speak of this. But, Merilda was really the only one to talk to, these days, and he found that he did sort of want to tell someone. “It was all a trick.” He said softly. “Ademar went behind my back, impersonated me with the captain of the guard, and bribed him to give me the position.” He explained, feeling very upset, betrayed, and confused by this. “I’m honestly not sure what about this is the worst part; that my brother would do such a thing.. or that the captain accepted the bribe and promoted me unjustly.” He sighed.

“Oh… that’s awful.” Merilda frowned to hear this. “I’m sorry. Lady Alyssa said you were very excited when you got the promotion. It must be awful now, knowing this…”

He nodded slightly. That was another thing. He had intended to tell Alyssa about this latest news, but he never had the chance before she was taken away, and he was locked up.

“Do you need anything else?” Merilda asked, looking at him sympathetically.

“Besides freedom… no, thank you.” He sat up slowly, trying not to wince as his ribs protested. The guards had their orders, alright.. not to kill him, but to stop him from escaping however was necessary. He let out a sigh, trying not to wince, and then smiled at the girl when she came over to helpfully tuck a pillow behind his back to help prop him up. “Thank you, Merilda.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” She looked down, her shoulders drooping lightly.

“I know, you’ve done all you can.” Ric sighed. He frowned as it occurred to him how trapped Alyssa must have felt for the past few years, and now understood her predicament more fully. If only he’d known more, he might have done more to help her. He felt frustrated and annoyed at himself for not having done anything of the sort. And now, she was taken somewhere far away, where he had no way of knowing where she might be. And he couldn’t help her. He wondered if she was frightened.

“You really ought not provoke the guards, in the future.” Merilda informed him. “I wouldn’t dare try what you did..”

“I had to try.” He answered, then sighed. “I am grateful for your company, even if it is only for a little while each day.” He added. “But I really need to get out of here. I must find my brother as soon as I can.” He scowled at his plate in frustration.

Merilda nodded as she took her time dusting the fireplace, looking thoughtful. “I sure am glad I don’t have a twin,” She decided.

Ric was mildly surprised by that statement, and realized that she must be thinking of how his twin was so horrible. He laughed faintly before wincing. “Not all twins are like this, you know.” He told her. “I knew another pair of twins, growing up.” He said with a touch of sadness. “A brother and sister. They were very close friends with each other. Almost inseparable. They..” He sighed. “they looked out for each other. I always wished I could be in their group of friends, but…” He trailed off.

“But what?” Merilda wondered, intrigued by the thought of two sets of twins in the same place.

“But Ademar made sure that didn’t happen.” He concluded.

“Oh. That’s too bad.” She paused to look around the room, finding nothing else to do for now. “Well… I suppose I’d better go now. But, would you like anything special for supper? I could talk to the cook, you know.” She offered. “Whenever Lady Alyssa was recovering from him putting her in the dungeon, I’d bring her her favorite meal.” She smiled. “And you should see the beautiful cakes and pies that the cook can make, if you ask.” She added, eyes gleaming with excitement. “For Alyssa’s last birthday, she had a lovely cake with layers of creamy stuff, and she let me have some.. it was sooo yummy..” She closed her eyes in happy remembrance of the dish. “Oh, and the cook also sometimes makes this wonderful thing…”

Ric smiled, shaking his head lightly as he let the girl ramble on for a moment about different foods that she had enjoyed. When he finally had a chance to speak again, he took the opportunity. “I’m fine with whatever is prepared.” He finally answered. “But, if you’d like something in particular,” He added, “feel free to claim that the request came from me.”

Merilda’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, really?” She asked, surprised. “Thank you, sir!” She smiled happily. “I’ll see you tonight then.” She turned, then made an effort to tamp down her excitement before going past the guards at the door.

Ric smiled a little, wondering what she would bring in the evening, for it seemed to him that she was hoping for something specific. A favorite dish, certainly, but what might it be?



His ribs improved somewhat as he rested. There was little to do, so he slept a lot, dozing in and out. Eventually, he did get up and slowly walked to the big window in the study to watch the sunset, as had become a habit over the past month. He expected Merilda would be coming with his evening meal in a short while, so he figured he might as well sit in the lounge to eat, now that he felt a little better.

After the sun had sank below the horizon, and the shadows grew darker, he listened for the sounds that usually preceded the girl’s entrance. A brief exchange of voices at the door, the bolt being drawn back, and finally, the door softly creaking on its hinges as the guards opened it to allow her in. Ric moved a little slowly, but he came into the lounge to greet Merilda.

But the person who had come with his food was not Merilda. Ric stopped, frowning slightly to see an older woman who set the tray down with a frown and prepared to turn and leave immediately.

“Wait,” Ric pleaded. “Where is Merilda?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

She turned and frowned at him. “She’s gone. I’m taking over her place now.”

“Gone?” Ric felt his heart sinking with dread at the possible meaning of that. “What do you mean, gone?” he asked softly.

“I mean she’s gone away. That’s all I know. I’ve been told I’m to bring your meals and clean your room from now on. So you’d better not try anything,” She warned, suspicious.

He felt stunned, and hardly processed what the woman had just said. Gone? He slowly sank down onto the sofa. “Will she be back?” He wondered, puzzled and finding this very odd.

“How should I know?” The woman retorted. “All I know is, she’s not here anymore, and I have to do her job now.” She paused, looking at him thoughtfully. “You.. care for her, do you?” She speculated.

Ric looked up, realizing what she was guessing. “No.. of course not. Not like..that,” He assured her. But he was very worried. What could have happened between breakfast and supper? Was she alright? Had she been harmed? While he was definitely not interested in her in a romantic sense, he did care for the girl. In a friend type of way. He wondered if it would be far-fetched to say he thought of her like a sister. Having never had a sister, nor any siblings except for Mar, he wasn’t really sure how he would feel toward one. But, he had seen his classmates with their siblings. And he knew how Alyssa cared for her siblings. He decided that was probably the closest way of describing how he felt toward Merilda… not that he wanted to explain all of that to this woman. “She has been a good friend to me, that’s all.” He said softly. “We have spent much time talking, while she works,” He made sure to add, so it didn’t sound as if the girl had been slacking off. “It gets rather lonely, locked up in here with no one to talk to.” He explained with a faint smile, albeit a somewhat sad one.

“Well, sorry for both of us then.” She shrugged. “Leave your dishes by the door, and knock once, when you're done. The guards will see that they’re delivered back to the kitchen.” She told him, clearly having no intention of sticking around to wait. “I’ve got too much to do, to be standing around talking. I’ll return in the morning with your breakfast.” With that, she walked out briskly and the door was closed behind her.

Ric sat staring at the tray, feeling quite dismal about this change. Suddenly, it also occurred to him that he would have to hide his rope of fabric, because this new maid would probably find it and report it. She seemed like the sort to do something like that, he thought with a small frown. He sighed and stared at the tray for a moment, then stood and went to locate a better hiding spot for his rope. He suddenly didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment, thinking of various things which could have happened to Merilda… and feeling more helpless than ever.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 9:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ademar Androllius(posing as 'Lord Ansellidus') and Merilda
End of August
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus, corridors of the castle
Shortly after Merilda left from Aderic



Merilda was quite excited as she hurried along the corridor, thinking of her favorite dish which Alyssa had once introduced her to. She wanted to tell the cook now what special request had been made for supper, so that if any specific ingredients were required, she could get them for her. Already, she was playing through in her head how she ought to pose her request, so that it wouldn’t be an outright lie, but would seem as if it had come from Aderic, rather than her. Then she turned around the corner, and gasped as she collided with someone. And not just anyone…

“Watch it,” Mar snapped, glaring at the stupid servant girl, shoving her out of his way.

“I..I’m sorry, m’lord,” She hastily backed off, eyes wide as she caught her balance after being shoved. “I’m so sorry.. really, I.. I didn’t expect you, m’lord, I beg your pard-”

He frowned at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing some chore or something?”

“I.. yes sir, I was.. I mean, I.. just came from-”

“Nevermind, just go.” He waved her off. “I’ve got better things to do,” He muttered, turning to continue down the hallway.

Merilda started to hurry on her way, but, against her better judgement, paused. “Uh…M’lord?” She asked, tentatively, biting her lip lightly as she watched him turn.

Mar, a little surprised by the girl’s boldness, stared at her in almost disbelief. “What now?” He asked, holding back a sigh.

Merilda cringed slightly, feeling sure she probably should have kept quiet, but it was too late now. She couldn’t exactly say ‘nevermind’ and go on her way… he’d be more annoyed by that, surely. “Well.. if I may ask… what news of Lady Alyssa?” She asked tentatively, hopeful for some news. “Is she alright? I miss her terribly.. and I worry about her...”

“Nevermind about Alyssa.” He retorted, scowling at her for having the nerve to ask about her. He recalled that she'd been Alyssa's personal handmaid. The two had been very close, so he decided to overlook it, this once. Still, he couldn't let her know she was off the hook that easily. He took a step closer to her, still frowning. Interestingly, he noted that she did not step back as he might have expected. But she looked very nervous, so that was some consolation. He had also recalled that this girl, Merilya? had been assigned to tend to his brother during his captivity... which meant she would know the most about his present condition. “Now, I have a question for you.” He told her. “What news of Aderic? How is he enjoying my.. hospitality?” He smiled in his usual unpleasant way.

Merilda hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her apron while she really just wanted to hurry off and get as far from this scary man as possible. Why did she have to stop him and ask questions? She should have known he wouldn’t answer her. But now, she must answer him, and it had better be satisfactory. “Oh, umm…” She cleared her throat lightly. “He’s.. not happy, m’lord.” She wasn’t entirely sure how to answer this. “I mean, he’s.. um, well, he doesn’t like being locked up. Naturally. He.. um, he tried to push his way out, the other day.” She admitted. “They beat him up…” She dropped her gaze, half expecting him to yell or even hit her if this news angered him, even though it wasn’t her doing.

“Nothing too serious, I trust?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, sir, he’s.. he’ll recover, I’m sure.. just sore ribs, a few bruises…”

“Good, nothing he can’t handle.” He spoke more to himself than to the girl, but then looked at her a bit more closely. Was it his imagination, or was she hiding something? He frowned. “Then, what are you so nervous about?”

“N-nothing, sir.” She dropped her gaze down, still fidgeting slightly. “I only feared..” She swallowed. “I thought you’d be angry, that’s all.”

Mar rolled his eyes. He knew quite well she was afraid of him, and he wasn’t opposed to it, either. He rather enjoyed having people fear him. He was about to turn and go on his way when the girl spoke up again, to his further surprise.

“And… well, he's very lonely..." Merilda ventured, trying to keep her voice from trembling, but wasn’t entirely successful. "More than anything, he’d like to talk to you, m’lord.” She took a deep breath and dared to glance up, nervously. “That’s all he wants, you know.. to talk to you.”

Mar smirked faintly. “Yes… I’m sure he would.” He knew good and well his brother wanted more than just to talk. He was about to tell her to go on her way when he thought of something. A new idea. Perhaps she could be useful to him. He paused, tilting his head at the girl as he considered this, and decided she might be just the right person to aid him. “Marilla, wasn’t it?” He asked, without giving her a chance to reply before he went on, “How would you like to help my brother?” He asked, already suspecting the answer.

Merilda looked up, a little alarmed but trying not to let that show. “H-help him, sir?” She wondered if he could possibly know about her efforts to help him, already.

“That’s what I said.”

“Yes, sir... but, h-how could I help him?” She wondered, slightly uneasy, and too nervous to dare correcting him about her name.

Mar smiled and motioned down the hall toward his study. “I’m in a hurry.. come with me and I’ll tell you what you can do to help him.” he took her arm and left her little choice but to come along. “And if you do your job well enough,” He added as an after-thought, “I may even let you join Alyssa after it’s all over…”
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 772 
Posts: 2745
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
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Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus


Aderic Androllius
(escaping from the guest chambers)
End of December


The ground seemed a dizzying height below him, so he tried very hard not to look down as the frigid wind whistled around him. The stone felt icy to his fingertips as Ric gripped the ledge, using the last bit of strength that he felt he had, to pull himself onto it. This was… quite possibly the riskiest, most dangerous thing he’d ever done. But desperate times call for desperate measures, or so the saying goes. Once he had pulled himself onto the ledge, it was far easier to swing his legs over the balcony railing, and there collapsed onto the balcony, several yards below the one where he had been imprisoned. He’d been through obstacle courses and rigorous training, back when he joined the guards, of course. During his training, years ago. But this… this was a whole other level. Climbing a rope up to the top of a platform, where the only thing awaiting you at the bottom is a mud puddle and a scolding if you should slip… that was far different from climbing a knotted sheet cut into strips, with a sheer drop to the rocky cliffs hundreds of feet below. He hoped he had only imagined it, but he’d thought he heard a slight ripping sound as the fabric threatened to give way, just before he found the ledge.

The sheet-rope was only so long. He’d given up on it for several weeks, tucked it away in his dresser drawer, and layered folded clothing on top of it, in case the new maid should look in and see it. Until, at last, his desperation became strong enough for him to take it out and measure how long it would actually reach. Turns out, it was just about long enough to potentially descend two stories of the castle. But what then? He had a lot more than two to worry about. But, noticing the balcony just below his own, an idea had gradually begun to form. He spent a lot of time out on the balcony of the guest suite, trying to estimate whether he had enough length. And then, when he felt sure enough about that, he still hesitated. Worrying.. what if it wasn’t strong enough to support his weight? Did he really want to trust his entire weight to these thin strips of cloth, tied into knots at intervals? That was a really long fall, spelling out certain death, if it didn’t hold up. But in the end, he decided that he must try it. He couldn’t stay here in this prison forever! However comfortable it was, he needed to find his brother, and bring him in to face his crimes.

Finally, he had made it. After resting for a moment, Ric sat up and untied the end of the ‘rope’ from his waist. This went up to the balcony he had left, wrapped around the railing, and came down where the other end of the rope was tied to the first side, in a loop. So that, while descending, he’d had both sides of the rope, one secured to himself, the other secured to the rope itself. If he had slipped, the rope's loop would slide only as far as the nearest point where the sheets knotted together. He might’ve had a little way to fall, and a rather rough jerk when he reached the end of the rope, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as if the rope end were unsecured. And this way, he could retrieve the entire rope once he had reached his destination. He did that now, loosening the ends of the rope from each other, and pulled one end so that the whole thing eventually lay coiled at his feet. He was relieved that the rope had held.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, the only one he’d had to speak to for months now. "Now.. what?" He cautiously peeked in the windowed door of the balcony he had reached, and was relieved to find that it seemed to be an unused room. It was dark, anyway. The windowpanes were dirty, and he tried the knob to see if it was unlocked. Of course, it would be locked. He knew, from his own balcony, that it opened outward. So, there was no ‘kicking the door in’. And he wouldn’t have a clue how to pick a lock. So, what else could he do?

Hesitating, Ric studied the door for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Desperate measures,” He muttered to himself, then prepared himself. The windowpane closest to the doorknob was the one. He hated to have to do it, but… crash. His elbow smashed through the glass. He winced slightly at the noise. It sounded terribly loud to him, but he paused and waited for a moment to make sure that no one had heard it. Hopefully, if he was very lucky, this part of the castle was abandoned. He knew from Merilda that servants had been being killed off, bit by bit. All of those who knew about Ric, it seemed. This troubled him greatly. He wasn’t sure if those servants were being replaced, or if the castle was practically empty by now. But, even still, there were still a few who remained that did know of him. The guards who watched his door. The maid who came each day. Maybe the cook? He wasn’t sure about that one.

He had chosen the early evening, just after supper, to attempt this. The maid wouldn’t be back to his rooms until morning, which gave him all evening and night to find a way out of the castle. Once he felt sure that no one had heard the glass breaking, he cautiously reached in and winced as some of the jagged pieces of glass scratched his arm. But, he didn’t want to break more of the glass and risk drawing more attention to this room, so he endured it as well as he could. A moment later, he had the door open. Breathing out a soft sigh of relief, Ric withdrew his arm carefully, and stepped inside. It was dark, dusty, and covered in cobwebs. He carried the coiled-up sheet rope inside with him, and tucked it behind a couch. If he got caught, he would at least rather no one found out how he got out of his room. That way, if he had to, maybe he could try the same thing again, eventually. But if anyone found out how he’d escaped, and put him back in there, they might take away the sheets and blankets altogether. With winter in earnest, that would make the nights extremely uncomfortable.

Navigating carefully through the room, Ric winced slightly as he bumped into something, swiftly pivoting so as to catch the item.. a vase.. before it fell over. After carefully righting the vase on the small table, he stood still, breathing slowly for a few inhales and exhales. Then he proceeded on his way, and narrowly avoided stubbing his toe on the leg of a low table he could barely see. But, finally, he made it to the door without too much undue noise. ‘Please, please, please, be unlocked…’ He thought desperately. It was! He breathed out a silent sigh of relief, then cautiously peeked up and down the abandoned hallway. He brushed off his clothes, stepped out into the hall, and then hesitated. Which way?
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 772 
Posts: 2745
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
(Private)

Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus


Aderic Androllius
(Posing as his brother... reluctantly)
End of December

Choosing a direction at random, Ric set off down the hallway, and hoped that the castle would be abandoned enough that he wouldn’t run into anyone. He had only gone a few yards down the corridor, however, when a voice came from behind him, causing Ric to nearly jumped out of his skin.

“My lord? What are you doing here?” The voice of a man sounded surprised.

Instinct would have had Ric immediately correct the man, and inform him that he was not the lord of the estate. But wisdom told him to play along, and so he held his breath as he turned slowly. His heart pounded as he looked at the man who was hurrying toward him from the other end of the hall. All the while, Ric was trying to recall if he had ever seen him before. What was his name? Did he know it? He realized he had better give an answer, or the man might begin to get suspicious. “Why do you think I would be here?” He asked slowly, as he tried to keep his voice from sounded too nervous.

“Forgive me, my lord, but.. I didn't mean it like that," the man hastily explained. "It's just.. I thought you had gone away, and were not expected to return for a very long while?” The man seemed somewhat confused.

Ric thought swiftly, trying to think of how Mar might react. He hardly knew anything about how his brother acted around those who were subject to him, however, and had to simply make a hasty guess. “Yes, I left," He confirmed with a small nod. "And.. then I returned, to get some of my things.” He faced the man, whose name he still did not know. He was certain that if he’d ever known it, he would have remembered. Ric tried to make sure to always remember people’s names. "Is this.. a problem for you?"

“Of course not, my lord.” The man bowed his head slightly in apology. “Is there any way in which I could be of assistance to you in this endeavor?” He asked, anxious.

Ric blinked back at him. It was unexpected how easily the man believed that he was his brother, and he even felt a little bad for deceiving him. But he did not think it wise to ‘fess up’ at this point. He hesitated slightly as he tried to overcome his surprise over the man’s offer to help. Thinking swiftly, the former guard lieutenant let out a slow breath, which may have seemed like a sigh to the other man. He thought the poor fellow looked nervous, and immediately felt bad. But he refrained from apologizing. “I’m on my way to my study, perhaps if you walk with me, you can fill me in on anything important I need to know about, that may have happened in my absence?” Ric suggested, making an effort to not keep his tone to its usual level of politeness.

“Certainly!” The man agreed, nodding to indicate that he should begin walking, then fell in step beside Ric.

Ric had somewhat hoped the other man might lead the way, so it made him a bit nervous when he was expected to lead the way. But he was relieved to find that they seemed to be heading in the right direction, though he noticed the man kept himself about one step behind Ric. At one crossway, the man began moving toward the right-hand branch as if anticipating that turn, so Ric smoothly followed the cue, trying to act as if he knew the way already. Thankfully, this guy did seem to know the way.

“So,” Ric prompted after a moment of walking, “anything I should know about?” He glanced toward the man, still trying to figure out who he might be.

At the prompting, the man began to speak about how the mines were doing while they walked, and briefly brought up some matters of discontent among the miners, though he almost immediately seemed to think better of it. After he swiftly apologized for bringing that matter up, he moved on to the topic of the profits from the mines, instead. Ric listened silently, trying to gain some sort of insight to the goings on here, and trying to get some sort of idea of how he ought to act in order to make the man believe he was Mar. He soon began to suspect that this man must be either some sort of steward who ran the day-to-day things of the Ansellidus estate, or perhaps a foreman of the mines, who reported to Lord Ansellidus on a regular basis. He was leaning toward the former option, however, due to some of the topics he brought up about the servants within the castle, and some of the issues he mentioned which had arisen in the village around the castle.

Ric frowned as he listened to all of this report, without interrupting. It was giving him a good idea of what sort of things were going on around here, at least, but it was a great deal more than he had expected to hear. And it was difficult for him to decide how Mar would react to any of this. It had only been in the last couple of years that Ric's eyes had been opened to the way his brother truly was. Ever before, Mar had always put on an act meant to confuse and convince Ric that he was different than he really was, and he still did not know everything. Ric had very little experience with the way Mar acted toward people when Ric was not there. All he had to go on, for this, was what Alyssa had told him, and the way the servants acted toward their lord. They acted.. afraid of him. And that troubled Ric.

After several corridors, they finally arrived at the study. The steward was tentatively explaining how much it would cost to invest in a few extra safety measures within the mine shafts, and trying to convince him that the cost was worthwhile, and how much more profit could be made, versus how much could be lost if a mine tunnel collapsed and workers were killed, and so forth. Ric took a seat behind the desk. Lacing his fingers together, he rested his elbows on the desk, with his chin on the interlaced fingers, and gazed thoughtfully at the steward fellow as he made his report. It sounded as if he had done this hundreds of times before. He was an older fellow. Not elderly, but at least old enough to be Ric’s father, if not a bit more.

As the man paused for a moment, Ric realized he was waiting for a reply of some sort. He found himself frowning, trying to sort through everything that had been said, and come up with some sort of response that would seem enough like his brother to not draw suspicion. But he had so little knowledge of this side of Mar, he really didn't know what to say. “You think it would bring more profit?” he asked at last, while his mind raced to think. How would Mar answer this guy?

He nodded a little hesitantly. "Yes, my lord, I believe it would increase.. in the long run. Morale would be higher if the miners feel safer to work, and therefore.. there will be more digging.. and more productivity."

"Then see to it." Ric answered, and hoped that was a good enough response, because honestly, Ric had gotten rather lost amid all the business talk. But safer work conditions for his subjects, and more profit as a result.. well, Mar surely couldn't protest to that, right? He knew nothing about mining, or about managing an estate, or any of that, and so he figured it wisest to simply trust in the steward's suggestion.

Thankfully, the answer seemed to satisfy the man. The man gave a small head bow. “Yes, m’lord.” He answered, looking marginally surprised, but also relieved. “Uh.. are you well, my lord? Do you need anything? Food? Drink?”

Ric hesitated again, wondering if he had messed up. Why else would the man have asked if he was well? "I'm fine," he answered slowly. "Although.. I am rather hungry?" He added as an afterthought. Mainly, he just wanted the guy to leave so he could search the office for any clues about Mar's whereabouts. But, he was rather hungry.

"Of course, I'll see to that personally." The steward assured him.

Ric nearly replied, ‘thank you’ but somehow, he felt that Mar would not. So, he did not, though he had to bite the inside of his lip lightly as he nodded. Once the steward had bowed and left the room, he concluded, in a whisper, "Thank you." Because he just couldn’t stand to not say it at all.

Once the steward was gone, Ric let out a little sigh of relief, then swiftly began to search through the papers on the desk. He went through the files in the desk drawer, through the papers on the desk, in the cabinets at the sides of the room.. everywhere he could think of. He even checked the desk for secret compartments, but there did not seem to be any. There must be something here. There must be! Some sort of clue to tell him where to find Mar, or perhaps some sort of evidence that could prove the sort of nefarious activities going on around here. It seemed obvious to him that servants were being killed off, simply for knowing about Ric's existence, and that was both upsetting, and highly unsettling. But how could he prove it? He hadn't seen anything happening. He had only Merilda's word for it.. and she was gone now.

Though the thought saddened him, it also spurred him to try harder to find something. He would find a way to get justice for those who had been murdered. For Merilda, who had become like a sister to him. There were so many crimes happening all around him.. all leading back to Mar. If he could just prove it.. but at the same time, he had to also find Mar, and prove to others that Mar was the guilty one, not Ric! He certainly didn't want to end up in the same predicament that had caused him to flee from Minas Tirith with such haste. But he needed to find something.. and fast. The steward would be back at any moment, and Ric had a feeling that if he learned that he was not his brother, he would not be so.. helpful.

And, furthermore.. Ric had not forgotten that he had until morning before the maid would return to bring his breakfast, and would then discover that he was not in his chambers. It was only a matter of time before he was caught, and he wanted to be well away from the castle by that time...
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 772 
Posts: 2745
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
(Private)

Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus


Aderic Androllius
(Posing as his brother... reluctantly)
End of December

At length, a knock on the door alerted him to the steward returning. Ric swiftly returned to the chair and pretended to be studying some documents in front of him. He had no idea what it was about, but he looked up and hesitated, then spoke calmly, “Enter.”

The steward entered with a tray of food on a cart. “My apologies for taking so long, my lord... The cook has already left for the evening... I’m afraid no one was expecting you, sir.”

Ric fought his instinctive reply, ‘that’s quite alright’. He gave a slow nod. “Alright,” He answered slowly, instead.

“My lord,” The man spoke up tentatively as Ric took a piece of bread, and some sliced meat and cheese, intending to make a sandwich. “There.. is another matter which I think I ought to inquire about.”

Looking up, Ric waited for him to continue.

“I was just wondering, what do you intend to do with.. the prisoner?”

Ric certainly did not expect that question. He had been about to take a bite of his sandwich, but he lowered it as he stared at the man. He was asking about.. himself!? Ric took a slow, measured breath. “What do you mean?” He asked, trying to gather more insight to what the man was actually asking.

“Well.. I only wondered, if you plan on keeping him alive..?”

Ric blinked, setting down the sandwich as he stared at the man. Trying to recover from the surprise of that question. “My brother?” Ric frowned, a little shocked by the question. “Certainly, keep him alive!” He insisted, heart racing. He couldn’t help wondering.. would Mar have replied the same? “Indeed, my brother must remain alive, no matter what.” He declared, inwardly a little shaken by the thought that had just occurred to him.

The steward blinked. “Oh.. yes, of course, m’lord. We haven’t forgotten your orders to that effect. I mean.. he is rather discontent with his present situation, but we have endeavored to make his… stay... as comfortable as we can, given the.. circumstances..” He shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable to have that topic brought up. “But, actually, sir, I was referring to the other prisoner?” He explained. “The.. one in the dungeon?”

Ric stared dumbly at him, too stunned by this news to even think of how to react for a moment. Another prisoner! He wanted to ask who it was, but then just as quickly, realized that of course, Mar would already know that. “Right... Him,” he muttered, more reminding himself that the man had said ‘him’, than anything. So, it wasn’t a lady, which meant it could not be Alyssa, nor her sister, whom he knew Mar was after. Why, he did not know. But, if it could not be them, then... who could it be? He realized that he should probably give some answer, and thought quickly. He blinked, trying not to appear as stunned as he felt. “I’ve had so much on my mind lately, I forgot about him,” He ‘confessed’, frowning slowly.

“Understandable, my lord.. you have been incredibly busy,” The steward agreed, like a trained puppet. He paused, then tentatively repeated, “Uh.. what should be done about him..?”

“Oh.. Yes.” Ric remembered the question. “Indeed, I do still have need of him,” He answered. “Tell me.. how is he faring?” He asked a moment later, unsure whether this was something his brother might ask about or not.

“Faring? Uh.. I am told he is.. not so near to death as to require a healer...” The man replied slowly, hesitant. “In compliance with your orders, my lord, no one but the jailor and yourself has seen the man. But, as your steward, I receive reports periodically. I have been informed that, although it has been many days since he was last fed, he is given water regularly, and he is...” He cleared his throat. “Well, he lives, but remains in a state of discomfort, as you know. There seems to be no danger of him.. expiring prematurely…”

Ric listened with growing dismay, his heart sinking as he heard of the condition of this poor unfortunate person. Who could this be? He gave a small nod while fighting a feeling of disgust. Disgust with his brother, above all. He drew in a slow breath and let it out again even slower. Suddenly, he didn’t feel right eating the sandwich that his gaze had landed on as he dropped his eyes downward. He was silent for a moment, thinking swiftly, then looked up. “I will go see the prisoner now.” He decided, determined to learn who this man was, and whether it might be possible to release him from his prison. "Might as well take care of my business with him, now." He added, seeing a flicker of surprise cross the steward's face.

"You will?" He asked, making Ric wonder if this was an unusual occurrence for Mar to go and visit the prisoner. Considering he hadn't once come to see Ric in the months he'd kept him imprisoned, he supposed maybe it wasn't very usual of him. But, he’d had no luck with the papers strewn about the desk, nor anything else in the office. The only thing of any remote interest was something that looked like a bill of sale for some property. He’d like to check that out, but he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to get out of this castle, yet. So, for now, he wanted to investigate the prisoner who was treated so poorly, and see what he could do for him.

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?" He asked, rising from the desk as he looked at the steward.

"No, m'lord, of course not."

Taking leave of the office, Ric motioned for the steward to walk along with him.. while privately hoping he would be able to guide the way for Ric. His luck seemed to be holding, for now. The man set off walking with him, though he looked a bit nervous. Ric kept his pace matched with the steward’s, and together they traveled down the hallways of the extensive castle, gradually moving downward until it was evident they were nearing the dungeons.



After turning down many hallways, the steward paused outside of a heavily fortified door, and fidgeted. “I.. I have never gone beyond this point, m’lord. Please.. allow me to return to my duties? Farchon is a far better choice to tell you what you want to know,” He added, bowing as he inched backward a bit.

Ric gave a small nod. “Go on then,” He released him, and held back a sigh, not sure whether to be relieved or more uneasy. He had no idea how to find his way back out of the depths of the castle, and he wasn’t sure who this 'Farchon' was, either. The jailor, perhaps? He had no idea how long he could keep this act going, and he began to worry that he was going to slip up. Perhaps, though, it was a good thing to switch to a new person. He ventured onward slowly, feeling uncomfortable about this. The dungeon here seemed far worse than the ones in Minas Tirith. It certainly smelled worse. He wandered about the halls for a while, feeling lost and out of place, and very uneasy. After exploring a few empty cell blocks, he was startled by a voice calling out.

“Hey! Who’re you? What business have you got down here?”

The harsh call made Ric's heart nearly jump out of his chest, but he somehow managed to suppress the instinctive ‘jumping’ reaction so that it wasn’t noticeable to anyone looking at him. Turning, Ric spotted a man at the end of the corridor. His heart was pounding, but he somehow pulled his face into a stern, frowning expression.

The new man had a torch, thankfully. When Ric turned, and the torchlight illuminated his face, the man’s eyes widened in shock. “Ah, my apologies, Lord Ansellidus! I didn’t realize it was you.” He explained hastily.

“Understandable,” Ric answered, approaching slowly down the hallway. “Your vigilance of the dungeon is commendable.” He hesitated, wondering if that seemed like something Mar would say, but figured it was too late now anyway. “I was looking for you,” He added, guessing this must be the jailor.

“Is something wrong?” Farchon asked, a little hesitant.

Ric paused, wondering just how much fear his brother had evoked into people. And why? “No..” He answered slowly. “I only want to see the prisoner,” He explained. “But.. I haven’t got my keys on me. Assuming you have yours, perhaps you would walk with me?” He explained, hoping that was the right thing to say. Mar would have a key to the place, right? Surely…

“Ah.. of course.” The man nodded, looking a bit relieved. He motioned for Ric to come, and set off down the corridors, deeper into the dungeon.

Down a darker set of stairs they went, deeper and deeper. Ric continued feeling more and more uncomfortable, but he kept trying to tell himself to act confident.. act like he owned the place. Because, through whatever scam Mar had pulled to become Lord Ansellidus.. he did own the place.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 772 
Posts: 2745
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
(Private)

Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus


Aderic Androllius
(Posing as his brother... reluctantly)
End of December

‘How deep does this dungeon go? And how far down is this prisoner?’ Ric wondered, glancing around at the stone-lined walls that made up the corridor. Moss grew on the lower parts of the stone, evidence of the dampness lurking there, and he could only guess at how far down they had gone by now. He had acquired a torch of his own along the way, and used the light of it to try and keep track of their progress. A right turn here. Another right, then a left... He still felt quite lost, however, and soon lost track. The place smelled so awful, it was difficult to make himself keep going.

‘What if this is all a trap?’ A tiny part of his mind whispered. His pulse raced at the suggestion, and he glanced subtly to the man walking beside him. Had they figured him out? Were they now leading him, obliviously, into a deeper prison from which escape would be impossible? Was there even really another prisoner?

“Here we are,” Falchon announced, startling Ric out of his nervous thoughts. His timing couldn't have been better.

Looking at the door, Ric could see nothing that would tell him whether there was really a prisoner on the other side. It was a solid wooden door, with a small square cut out near the top. This was covered with a sliding shutter, so that if anyone was inside, Ric could not see them, and they could not see out. A hefty iron bolt went across the door, holding it securely closed. He wondered why this prisoner was locked up so securely, but of course, he couldn’t ask such a question. He gave a small nod in reply to the man. “I see that.” He answered, figuring his brother would have no difficulty knowing that they had arrived at the correct cell.

The jailor unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly. It creaked on rusty hinges, making Ric want to cringe. “He’s all yours, m’lord.” Falchon held the torch out so that they could both see into the dark, stone room. And there he was. The prisoner was seated in a chair with his head dropped down to his chest, as if sleeping. Hopefully, that was all, for he looked extremely thin, obviously malnourished, and pale, as if he had not been outdoors in far too long. His hair and beard looked as if they hadn’t been trimmed in months, and with him sitting there unmoving, it would be easy to assume that he had died.

Ric started to step in, then paused, recalling his concerns about it being a trap. It could still be that, he realized, feeling very on-edge about this whole thing. He had never in his life attempted to impersonate Mar before, and he had no idea what he was really like when Ric was not around. For all he knew, the servants may have already figured out he was not really their lord, and may have been playing along so as to catch him and lock him up in here with this guy!

“Leave me your keys,” He requested, though it would sound more like a demand to the man, since Ric stopped himself from adding ‘please’. He held out a hand. “I’ll return them when I’m finished here.”

Falchon hesitated, but handed them over. “As you wish, m’lord. Shall I send Duk’ran here.. to assist?” he asked, glancing toward the prisoner.

Another name Ric did not recognize, but he thought that one sounded strangely… foreign. Though he couldn't quite place where it might originate. He paused to consider the question, but shook his head. “No.. not today.” He decided, worried he was making another out-of-character choice. These people knew Mar better than Ric did, apparently, and that concerned him.

“Very well.” The man bowed. “If you require anything, you know where to find me, sir.”

Ric gave him a small nod of dismissal, although he really did not know where to find him. But he didn’t think it mattered anyway, unless it was to avoid him later. He waited while Falchon set off down the hall. Only when the light of his torch had been swallowed by the darkness down the hall did Ric deem it safe to step into the cell. He braced himself for the smell, as well as whatever he would discover inside, then took a cautious step in, holding his own torch aloft. He hesitated, glancing around briefly. Spotting something that ought to work for what he had thought of, he picked up a few small pieces of loose gravel from a corner, and crammed those into the hole in the doorway, where the bolt would slide into the wall and hold the door secure. He had no idea whether that was enough to keep it from fully latching, but just in case.. it seemed like a good precaution.

When he turned back to the prisoner, expecting to have to examine him more closely to look for any signs of life.. Ric was surprised to find that the man had raised his head and was watching Ric with suspicion glinting in his eyes. Those, at least, looked surprisingly sharp and alert. After taking another look around, Ric put the torch into a holder on the wall, and moved toward him. As he neared, he was further dismayed to notice iron bands going across his wrists, holding them to the armrests, and more bands holding his ankles to the legs of the chair.

“No torturer, today?” The prisoner commented with mock surprise. “Going to do it yourself, then.” He guessed. “You do enjoy a rather sadistic form of entertainment.” His voice held a strong tone of bitterness with that statement. Despite sounding weak from his current condition, he did not sound dispirited.

Ric blinked, stopping in surprise. Torturer? The name Duk’ran returned to mind, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that might be who that person was. “No...” He answered softly, a little stunned at the realization that the man was anticipating torture from him. The thought that his brother would do such a thing.. that he would even have a torturer in his employ, made his stomach turn. The added comment about him enjoying it.. that made it all that much worse. Swallowing dryly, Ric ventured closer. “I’m not going to harm you,” He assured the man, barely above a whisper. Whether it was due to his mouth feeling dry, or the fear of being overheard, even Ric couldn’t have said. The look of skepticism on the other’s face told him that he didn’t believe it. “I know,” he sighed, “I look like.. him, and I realize you have every reason to disbelieve what I’m telling you. But, I’m not him.” Ric insisted quietly.

“Sure, you’re not.” The man answered in an unconvinced tone. “If you haven’t come to cause me more pain, and you haven’t brought my daughter to visit, then why have you come?”

Through the unkempt beard on the man’s face, Ric could see he was scowling at him. He was a bit taken aback by that inquiry, while also surprised.. both by the mention of a daughter, as well as the defiance present in his tone. Perhaps, a bit impressed by the latter. That, after whatever he must have endured, the man seemed undaunted, and unintimidated by whatever he was expecting would happen to him.

“Your daughter?” Ric asked, swiftly wondering who that might be, but he tried to put that aside for now, shaking his head in answer to the rest. “No, listen.. I really am not the one who did this to you. I.. don’t know whether I can help you, but I’d like to try, if I can.” He explained, then remembered what the steward had said about him not having been fed. “I… well, someone mentioned you had not eaten in a.. long while,” He mentioned tentatively, and pulled out the sandwich he had tucked under his outer layer of clothes, and held it toward the less fortunate man. “I brought this for you.”

Light brown eyes stared at the sandwich for a few seconds before he spoke faintly, as if with some difficulty, “And now.. you’re taunting me again.”

“No, I’m serious.” Ric insisted. “It sickens me to learn what my brother has done, and I intend to undo whatever I can of it. Please, I want to help you.”

It seemed to take great willpower for the man to tear his gaze away from the sandwich, but he looked up at Ric with suspicion still lurking in his eyes. “If that’s true, then prove it.” He suggested, with a nod down to the bonds. “You have the jailor’s keys, don’t you? I heard you talking outside the door.”

Realizing he’d forgotten all about the keys he’d gotten from the jailor, Ric looked at the ring of keys in his hand, and could have smacked himself. Of course, he could free the guy with these! “Of course. I’ll see if I can find the right key,” he answered, relieved to not be entirely helpless to do anything. After setting the sandwich carefully on the man’s lap, he kneeled down beside the chair. Not knowing which key it was, he would have to try them all until he found the right one. “Why are you here, anyway?” He asked, frowning as he tried the first key. It didn’t fit. “I mean.. why are you locked up and bound so securely? One would think you were a highly dangerous criminal…”

This comment was met with a weak scoff from the man. “You’re either very good at putting on an act..” he paused, taking a look at Ric. “which, I know he is…” he added, before going on, “or, you really aren’t him.” Having nothing else that he could do just now, the man studied Ric while he searched for the right key.

“I promise you, I am not,” Ric said again, fighting a sigh. “He is my brother.. my twin.” He explained regretfully as he tried another key. “We are identical… unfortunately.” He frowned, then glanced up. “In appearance, anyway. As it turns out, our looks are as far as the similarities go.” He sighed and returned his attention to the keys. “I’ve learned recently that he’s been impersonating me, committing all manner of crimes.. in my name! And now I’m a fugitive, apparently, while he's going around freely, using his new identity..” A little frustration crept into his tone as he explained a little more than he'd meant to before stopping himself. He’d had no one to talk to in months, and it had slipped out before he meant to say it.

The man watched him silently for a moment while Ric spoke, giving a slow nod. He was evidently considering this information, taking a long moment to think about it before he spoke again. “Are you… Ric?” He asked unexpectedly.

Surprised, Ric looked up from the key ring. “Indeed, I am. But.. how did you know that?” He was quite sure he'd never seen this man before in his life, and he was also couldn't think of any reason why Mar would have told him about him.

“My daughter has told me of a young man named Ric,” The prisoner said quietly, “who is the brother to that.. orc she’s married to.” He explained with a frown, as his jaw clenched briefly. “She says that the brother is good and kind.. the exact opposite of her husband.”

Sitting back, Ric stared at him, his eyes widening. He made no protest to hearing his brother called an orc; it seemed rather fitting, actually, given what he'd learned about him. But his focus was entirely on the other part of what he’d said. “Your daughter is Alyssa?!” He swiftly glanced toward the door as soon as the soft exclamation had burst out of him, and hoped that no one had heard it. He leaned a little closer to him, still wide-eyed, and kept his voice to a whisper. “You’re her father? Lord Veranis? But I thought.. I mean, everyone thought.. that you were dead!”
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 772 
Posts: 2745
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
(Private)
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus

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Aderic Androllius, with Lord Halberion Veranis
End of December

“Of course they did,” The man -Lord Veranis- smiled wryly. “Your brother made sure people would think that, I suppose.” He dropped his head down with a little sigh, as if it was wearisome just to keep his head lifted. “You might try.. a rusty, small one, toward the middle,” He suggested, with a glance toward the key ring.

Ric paused, then nodded slowly as he searched for a key matching that description, though he still felt stunned to realize that this was Alyssa’s father. Though, now that he had revealed that information, Ric realized.. yes. Alyssa had her father’s eyes, he could see it now. “How do you know which key it is?” He asked distractedly.

“I’ve paid attention, during the times when they move me to.. the other room.” Veranis answered quietly.

Ric frowned at this, while still keeping his focus on the keys as he searched for the one the man had described. There were a lot of keys on the ring, and he began worrying about how much time he had. “Other room..?” he questioned, wondering why they would move him from one room to another.

Veranis nodded slightly toward the keys. “That one,” He said as Ric came to the key in question. “The other room..” Veranis explained quietly. “is his torture room. Fortunately, I have not been there in a while, but I can assure you, it is most unpleasant.”

Ric stopped and looked at him, then took a slow breath in as he tried not to feel so sickened. Right… that. He looked down at the key, instead. It did match the description. He tried it in the lock, and was relieved that it worked! Veranis’ first wrist was now free. “Why keep you locked up like this, anyway?” Ric asked, confused. It seemed rather excessive, he thought. “The door is so secure.. and it's so deep down in this maze-like dungeon.. he surely doesn’t think you’d manage to escape?”

Veranis managed a weak smile. “If you don’t know that.. then I do feel inclined to believe you are not him,” He muttered, half to himself. When Ric glanced up questioningly at him, he explained, “If I were free to move about in this cell, he wouldn't be able to enter it without taking quite a risk." Hal sighed. "This way.. I am vulnerable.”

“I see..” Ric answered, though he really didn’t see. Risk? He decided not to press the issue, and concluded that the lord was simply boasting of his former abilities at fighting. While Lord Veranis flexed and clenched his hand a few times, and tested his elbow's maneuverability, Ric moved to the other side and unlocked his other wrist. “Do you think you can walk, Lord Veranis?” he asked, glancing uncertainly at the thin, underfed man.

“Not likely.. not at first.” The man reported regretfully. “I’ll need to rebuild my muscles a bit, although I haven't let them go completely lax.” He added, then carefully brought the sandwich up to take a small bite. First, food.

His arm was so thin, Ric couldn't help wondering if just lifting the sandwich was an effort for him. After unlocking his ankles, Ric stood up again. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For all that my brother has done to you, I am truly sorry.” He knew the words didn’t actually do anything to help, but he wanted to express how sorrowful he felt about it all. To make sure that he knew that Ric was not like his brother at all.

The comment was met with silence for a moment, but there was a thoughtful look in Lord Veranis’ eyes while he chewed the small bite he had taken. “If you really want to make it up to me,” He said finally, after swallowing, “you’ll help me get out of here.”

Ric nodded without hesitation. “Of course. I’ll do what I can for you, but.." He hesitated. "Well, I should let you know that.. I’m a prisoner here as well, actually.” He admitted, and sighed. “My own brother locked me up because I got too close to stopping him.” He explained with a frown. “I’ve been trapped in this castle for months, and I’ve only just managed to escape from my own prison.. but, unfortunately, I can't find my way out of the place.” He looked down at the keys in his hand, and frowned unhappily. “I’ve been forced to pose as my brother, but I don’t really know how to do that and I fear they’re going to figure it out at any moment…”

“You don’t know how to act like your brother?” Veranis asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

Ric smiled wryly. “Not the way he acts toward these people. He’s always acted much differently, whenever I was around. I’ve only recently begun to learn what he’s truly like… and it’s sickening.”

With a slow nod, Hal quietly agreed. “It is. And you’re right; he does act differently in front of those he wants to deceive.” He knew all too well about that. After waiting a moment, he took another bite before lowering the sandwich to rest on his lap.

“I would have thought you’d gobble that up in about two seconds,” Ric commented with some surprise, quite impressed by the man’s self-control, as hungry as he obviously must be.

Veranis gave a wan smile while he flexed his feet slowly, testing out the muscles in his legs. Straightening and bending his knees a few times. “My stomach has shrunk so much, if I ate it too quickly, it might be too much for me, and I may throw it right back up,” he pointed out. “I have no wish to lose the only food I’ve been given in days.. it may be days more still before the jailor decides to give me anything else.”

Ric nodded silently, feeling worse and worse for the man. “I wish I could have brought more, but.. I didn’t want them to see me sneaking food down here,” he explained.

“I’m grateful for the sandwich; they seem only concerned with giving me just enough to keep me alive.” He paused, looking at Ric with some concern lingering in his gaze. “Tell me… where is Alyssa? Why has she not come to visit me in so long?”

Ric blinked in surprise. “Alyssa knows you’re alive?” He asked, finding this quite a shock. “But.. she never said anything.. she never mentioned anything about you…”

“Yes, well.. that’s the whole reason he’s kept me here,” Veranis explained, his frown returning. “To keep her quiet and obedient.” His hands clenched into fists briefly, but he relaxed them. “Yes, she knows I’m here. For the past few years, she has come down here, once a month, to spend time with me.. what time he allowed, anyway.” He explained with a sad look in his eyes. A faint smile touched his face though. “She kept my hair and beard trimmed, told me the news, kept me sane..” He trailed off and looked down. “But she has not come in.. a very long time. I’ve lost track, actually.” He sighed heavily, then looked up at Ric worriedly. “Where has she gone? Is she alright?”

Ric breathed out slowly, trying not to let the ache in his heart overwhelm him. “I wish I knew.” He answered softly. “It was July when I came to the castle looking for my brother, and she met me in the parlor. We spoke briefly, and she insisted I have a meal and get some rest. But..” He looked down, feeling a little ashamed to admit to having been trapped so easily. "When I awakened, I was locked in the guest room. Her maid, Merilda, came and told me that my brother had done it, and that he had taken her away.” He looked up again. “I have not heard any news of her since.. and it is nearing the end of December, now.” He explained. His heart grew heavier as he went on, “Merilda has also vanished, along with any hope of me getting any further news.”

This news did not seem to offer much comfort to Lord Veranis, but he merely gave a small nod. He remained silent for a while, focusing on eating one bite at a time, then pausing to make sure his stomach wouldn’t reject it.

Ric remained silent while he let the man eat, moving near the door as he kept his ears open for anyone coming.

When the sandwich was nearly half gone, Hal put it down and looked up at Ric. “Will you help me? I think it’s time to see if I can manage a few steps. But I know I won't be able to manage alone.. yet.”

Turning back to look at him, Ric noticed a look of determination in his eyes. He nodded and came closer to Lord Veranis, but he felt very skeptical about the starved man having the ability to even stand. He really couldn’t imagine anyone being denied the use of their limbs for years, without a chance to exercise them at all. He imagined that it he would be like a baby; he’d have to relearn how to stand, then walk… would they have enough time for all of that? Mentally, he began trying to estimate how well he’d be able to carry him, if he must. But he said none of these thoughts. Instead, Ric carefully slid an arm around his torso, under his arms, and helped him to rise out of the chair, leaned on Ric’s shoulder while he supported him almost fully.

As weak as Veranis was, Ric didn’t even expect him to be able to stand, even with his support. So, he was surprised when he did manage it, though he still suspected that if he took away his arm and stepped away, he would fall over. “Can you lift your right foot and take a small step?” He asked, and was further surprised at how readily he lifted his leg. “You're doing surprisingly well,” He remarked encouragingly.

Hal gave another faint smile. “I didn't give up just because my arms and legs were strapped down.” He mentioned. "Just trying to lift my arm, or leg, for instance, even though the bonds kept me from doing so.. it engages the muscles. That keeps me from losing them entirely.

Nodding slightly in understanding, Ric paused briefly as he thought about how chilly it felt down here in this dungeon cell. While he was wearing a few layers, since he had expected to get very cold while he was climbing out of the window, Lord Veranis only wore one layer of tattered and torn garments. Without letting go of him, Rice unfastened the cloak he was wearing, and wrapped it around Lord Veranis.

Hal paused, looked down at the cloak, then up at Ric. He seemed genuinely surprised by this action. He swayed as he stood there, still having to rely heavily on Ric’s support. “Now, that takes away much of my doubt that you are, indeed, Ric.. and not the other.” He commented thoughtfully. “I find it very hard to believe he would have done that, even to try and trick me...” He said thoughtfully, though he didn't say that he was entirely convinced.

Regardless, Ric gave a small smile in return. “Well.. At least someone believes me,” He sighed softly. "Back home in Minas Tirith, he's got everyone convinced that he has no twin, and that he's me..." He explained. "And now.. he's committed crimes.. in my name, making everyone think that I'm guilty of all these crimes.. some of which I don't even know about..." He shook his head sadly. "That's why I came here, actually. I was going to bring him back with me, and make him face his crimes and prove my own innocence," He added softly. "Unfortunately, that didn't work out.. but I'm going to get out of here and find him." He shrugged, then gave an encouraging nod. “Let’s try a few more steps. You’ll have to get re-familiarized with the actions of walking before we can have any hope of escaping this place… and I don’t intend to leave you behind.”
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Steward of Gondor
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Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus

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Aderic Androllius, with Lord Halberion Veranis
End of December

Before Lord Veranis had a chance to reply, a voice called out unexpectedly from out in the corridor. “My lord!” It was the jailor! He called out with an urgent sound to his voice.

Ric froze, tensing as his gaze snapped toward the door. He looked at Veranis with eyes widened in alarm, then back to the doorway. What should he do? He had not expected the man to come back, since he’d said something about Ric finding him when he was done. But now.. this posed a problem. “What do I do?” Ric whispered nervously, hastily seeking counsel from the older man.

“You might start with answering him?” Hal suggested in a quiet tone. "Before he comes in here to check why you aren't responding."

Ric nodded, realizing of course, that was the most logical thing to do. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination that Veranis's comment seemed to hold an almost sarcastic hint to it.

“My lord?” The call repeated a moment later.

Ric took a slow breath and helped Lord Veranis take hold of the back of the chair he had previously been strapped to. “I’ll try to get rid of him,” He muttered, then stepped out into the hallway. “What is it?” He asked, frowning slightly.

Falchon was standing back a couple of yards, as if afraid to intrude into whatever his lord was doing to the prisoner. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but an urgent matter has come up, and Steward Thinnion has asked for you to come immediately.”

Ric stared at him for a second, then glanced back toward the open cell door, and back. He really did not want to leave yet. “Can it not wait?” He frowned. “Can.. Thinnion not handle it on his own?”

Falchon shook his head. “I’m sorry, he says he needs you, right away. It’s extremely important.”

Ric hesitated, turning his head to look into the cell. He didn’t like this at all. But he couldn’t think of anything else to do. He looked back at Falchon and let out a little sigh.. which seemed reasonable for Mar, given the interruption. “Give me a moment.” He requested. “I’ll catch up to you at the end of this hall after I've secured the prisoner again,” He added, hoping that would give him some options.

Falchon hesitated, but nodded and started down the hall. He glanced back once, but then hastened on to the end of the hall to wait.

Once he had seen him set off, Ric returned to the cell and looked at Veranis unhappily. “Now what do we do?” He frowned. “What could possibly be so urgent as to need him right away?” He asked, confused about that.

“You’re right,” Hal said with a faint smile, shaking his head slightly. When Ric looked slightly confused, he elaborated, “You do a terrible job impersonating him.” Unless, of course, it was all part of an elaborate act meant to deceive him for some purpose.

Ric had not quite expected that comment, and he wasn’t really sure whether to take it as a compliment, or a criticism. He decided that it could be both. “How so?” He inquired, moving back to help support him as he looked very unsteady trying to support himself on his own.

“Hmm, well he’s.. harsher. More demanding,” Hal shrugged slightly. “Acts like everyone should jump if he so much as looks at them. He snaps at people for nothing, and he doesn’t bother with politeness... treats his servants more like they're slaves.. and some may even be, actually.” He frowned at that thought.

Ric nodded slowly, frowning. “I will try to keep that in mind, as it seems I will have to keep up this act for a little bit longer.” He sighed. “Will you be alright, sir? I really don’t want to leave you, but.. I don’t know what else to do…”

Hal looked at Ric for a moment, as if thinking hard. After a moment, he gave a small nod, seeming to reach a decision. “You should get out of here, and bring back help for me.” He suggested. He sounded weary. Or, perhaps, disappointed. “I’m grateful for this chance to stand and stretch, and exercise my legs.. and I’m further grateful for the food.” He sighed, and motioned for Ric to help him move around a bit, again. “But, we both know you couldn’t possibly sneak me out of here without someone realizing you’re not your brother. But,” He went on before Ric could protest, “if you keep up the act, you may be able to escape. If you do..” he looked long and hard at Ric. “Then, you can come back with help for me.” He paused, then smiled faintly. “Just.. don’t wait too long, hm?”

Ric frowned, his shoulders drooping a bit as he helped him take a few steps. He started shaking his head when the man suggested leaving him behind.. that was out of the question! But, the more he spoke, the more Ric realized that he was right. It was possibly simplest solution. Ric certainly didn’t have any better ideas, though it made his heart sink to think of leaving this place without the man who so desperately needed rescuing. “What about you?” he asked softly. “Will you be alright?”

“I’ll do my best to be.” Hal answered with a vague smile, then nodded toward the door. “If you intend to keep up your act, then you had best go now. Bring back someone who can help get me out of here. That's the best thing you can do to help me.”

“I don’t know of anyone who could help,” Ric lamented, thinking of his own present situation as a fugitive. He had no friends, no one who would believe his story.. and no one he could turn to for help, even for himself. Even if he did get out of here, how could he convince anyone that he wasn't just trying to lead them into the same trap he'd fallen into, by coming here?

Lord Veranis, with Ric's help, eased himself down to sit on the floor, as all the standing and walking had become too taxing by now. He looked up at Ric. “You might try the Himhathol estate... Even with Macardil stuck in his own prison, Amarthon ought to remember what good friends he and I always were." He suggested, not having heard the latest news about Macardil's being freed and pardoned. "Or perhaps the Dimathors,” He muttered thoughtfully. “Zainaben Dimaethor was a good friend of my father’s before he died, they fought in a few battles together.” He sighed, leaning his head on the stone wall. "There are plenty of folks who would come to help me, if you just tell them of my situation."

Ric nodded slowly, making a mental note of these names, but he still felt lousy just leaving him here. The jailor would probably come back soon enough, and he'd lock Veranis back in the chair. He glanced at it with a frown. The shackles required a key to both lock and unlock them. So, without a key, he couldn’t be locked back up, right? He swiftly took that key off of the keyring, and put it into Lord Veranis’ hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He promised, then stepped into the hall, letting him do what he would with the key.



Closing the cell door, Ric left it unbolted. Perhaps, if Lord Veranis could manage it, he might manage to escape from it. Of course, he wouldn't likely get far, but he felt somewhat hopeful, anyway. Trying to think of what more he could do for him, Ric strode briskly down the hall to catch up to Falchon. His heart raced as he tried to remember everything Veranis had suggested, as far as being more convincing as Ademar. Holding out the keys to the jailor, he only hoped the guy wouldn’t notice the one small one that was missing. There were enough keys on the ring that Ric couldn't tell the difference, so hopefully it wasn't noticeable. “So, what is so important? Where is Thinnion?”

“He’s waiting for you in your meeting room, sir." Falchon replied. "I’ll walk with you.. he’s asked for me as well.” He explained, clipping the keyring on to his belt once again. Motioning for Ric to follow, he set off through the dungeon’s corridors, leading the way back upward.

Ric frowned, somewhat confused and a little unsure what to expect, but he followed. As he went, he tried to pay closer attention to the different turns that they took, so he could find his way back later. At last, they emerged from the dungeon levels and into the lower level of the castle. He took in a deep breath, grateful to have cleaner air to breathe after the awful smell down below. Still, he felt bad for Lord Veranis, being stuck down there. He hoped he would be alright until Ric returned.

The further they went, the more lost Ric felt, and was very glad that Falchon had come along, so he could rely on him to lead the way. Ric really couldn’t understand why Mar would even want to live in such an enormous castle. How did he find his way around? A person could get lost in here for days, he thought with amazement. He’d much rather stick to his small apartment in the city. Except.. he suddenly realized with a sinking heart, that his six months’ rent was nearly over. If he didn’t get out of here soon… he might lose the place. Though it was just an apartment, the thought saddened him, remembering all that he had left behind there, including his best friend’s room and belongings.

He was growing tired of all the walking by the time they turned down yet another hallway. He wondered, did Mar do this much walking through the halls of the castle all the time? Surely, this was an exception. As they passed by a couple of guards standing on duty at the end of a hallway, Ric frowned. Something suddenly didn’t feel right. As they passed, the guards left their posts and fell in behind Ric and Falchon. Ric didn’t know where this meeting room was, but he suddenly thought that this hallway seemed strangely familiar. Still, he couldn’t place exactly why. And then, suddenly, he understood why. Falchon stopped and opened a door and motioned for him to precede him inside. “Here we are, sir.” He declared. Ric froze, staying tensely where he was. He recognized the interior of it when the door opened. Turning, he looked at the two guards who had closed in behind him, and then saw that they were the same ones who had been standing guard outside his rooms every day for the past six months.

Thinnion, the steward, appeared from the other end of the hallway, flanked by two more guards. They approached with a no-nonsense sort of air about them.

Ric glanced from one side to the other, and finally his gaze settled on Falchon and Thinnion, as the latter came to stand by the former. “Well? What is this urgent matter that could not wait?” He asked, trying to inflect some impatience into his tone, rather than nervousness. He had a growing suspicion he knew what was happening, but he had to give it one last try.

“You haven’t figured it out already?” Thinnion asked, folding his arms. “Considering the fact that Lord Ansellidus’ meeting room is in the other wing of the castle?”

Ric looked at him quietly for a second before dropping his gaze, realizing there was no denying that he’d been caught. “Was it that obvious?” He asked softly, sighing.

“There were a number of things that made us suspicious.” Falchon answered, motioning to the guards to move in a bit closer. “For instance, you wanted to see the prisoner, but you had no keys? Very unusual, for Ansellidus. He would not have come to the dungeon without them. Your mannerisms are.. different, as well...”

“I, for one, found it highly unusual that Lord Ansellidus would so readily agree to the mine upgrades I suggested earlier,” Thinnion added. “I’ve been asking him to approve those for months, and his reply has always been the same. Until.. today.”

Ric inwardly cringed at his carelessness and held back a sigh. "I see..."

“So, after I left you at the entrance to the dungeon, I went to check whether you were still here, where you ought to have been.” Thinnion explained. “And.. I found that you were not. And then, I found a length of sheets tied into a long strip, in the room directly below yours.." He explained. "So, I went back to the dungeon and spoke with Falchon. We compared our suspicions, and devised a plan to test whether you were truly Lord Ansellidus, or.. his brother.”

“He would have known the way to his meeting room,” Falchon added. "Yet, you obviously had no idea where I was leading you just this moment."

“Sir, if you will step inside calmly, we can avoid any unpleasantness..” Thinnion requested.

Ric looked up at the steward, then the jailor, and back to the steward. “You seem like a good fellow, at heart,” he said quietly. “You cared enough about those miners to plead for safer work conditions for them.. even at the risk of my brother’s anger being directed at you. Yet, you continued to present it to him repeatedly, from what you’re saying.” He glanced at the others, and back to Thinnion. “Please.. just let me go. You can’t possibly be satisfied with how he runs this place.. you surely don't agree with keeping people prisoner simply because he says so...”

“I’m afraid I have no choice, sir.” Thinnion answered regretfully. “If I, or Falchon, were to allow you to escape..” He shook his head. “It would not end well for either of us.”

Falchon nodded his agreement. “You ought to be glad your prison is here, instead of in the dungeon.” He suggested. “You know, now, how much worse it could be…”

Ric turned to him, a frown on his face. “Indeed, I do.” He answered a little heatedly, then hesitated, catching a glimpse of the four guards surrounding him. He focused again on Falchon. “If I must be imprisoned again, then at least grant me one request.” He begged.

“If it is possible…”

“The prisoner in the dungeon,” Ric said quietly. “Give him at least one meal a day from now on. Is that too much to ask?” He pleaded.

Falchon hesitated, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I.. I have my orders, sir..” He explained awkwardly.

“Oh? And just what are your orders?” Ric demanded, feeling highly frustrated with this whole situation.

“He is to be given only enough food to keep him alive, and one cup of water per day, kept in such a state as to be unable to move his limbs..”

“Those orders are rather vague, don’t you think?” Ric retorted, feeling his blood boil with suppressed anger at all of this. “It sounds to me like you can judge for yourself the amount of food he is given. And yet, you choose to keep him on the very brink of starvation, even when your ‘lord’ isn’t at home.” He scoffed and cast a disgusted glance toward the steward, then back to the jailor. “Imagine yourself in his place, and think about what you might consider ‘enough to stay alive’,” He suggested hotly, stepping closer to Falchon with a glare. Unknowingly, for a moment he looked a lot more like what these two were used to seeing his brother look like.

Falchon stepped back a half step, looking very uneasy. "Sir, I.."

Ric continued without letting him speak. His temper had been roused, and he wasn't done saying what needed to be said. “Let me tell you one thing, Jailor,” he pointed a finger at him angrily. “one of these days, the King is going to hear all about what’s been going on here." He warned. "And when he does, you might want to think how it’ll look for you.. that you followed orders of a clearly corrupt man who demanded that you keep a prisoner so close to starving that he could easily die at any moment.. compared to how it will look on you if he hears that you bent the rule just a bit, and gave him at least one small meal a day. Does my brother keep such close tabs on what such things, that you couldn’t manage to do that? Can you not use your own judgement about this? Don’t you have a conscience, man?” Having said all that he could think of, Ric made an effort to rein in his temper. He had done his best to appeal to the whatever sympathy and basic human goodness that the two men may possess, and now he stood waiting in silence for a moment after.

Falchon shifted uncomfortably. “Please.. I don’t want to be cruel..” He said hesitantly, after a long silence. “I didn't even want to be a jailor, to be honest. I’m only doing as I was ordered.. I have a family to think of, you must understand. Please, sir. For all our sakes, just go into your room and do not try any further escape attempts. Let the matter drop.”

Ric frowned at him for a long moment. He knew they could force him into the room, of course. There were six of them, and he was unarmed. They were asking nicely, and he realized maybe they were hoping not to have to harm him. He appreciated that, at least. “I will go into the room,” He agreed quietly. “On one condition. You give Lord Veranis more frequent meals. In fact.. I will refuse my own meals until I hear that such changes have been implemented,” He declared with determination. "I will not let this drop."

Falchon’s eyes widened at hearing this, and he glanced at Thinnion briefly. After a moment of thinking, he cleared his throat. “I.. suppose I could make a few slight changes.. But.. if Lord Ansellidus returns and disapproves, I will have to abide by what he says.” He warned.

Ric smiled faintly. “Somehow, I have a feeling that he isn’t coming back.. at least not anytime soon.” He imparted to the two, then sighed heavily as he stepped into the room. His own cushioned prison. He turned back toward Thinnion. “If you would..” He hesitated. “please keep me informed about Lord Veranis’ condition?”

“I suppose that wouldn’t do any harm,” Thinnion decided. “Thank you for not making this more difficult.” He added. “I'm sorry that it must be this way."

"May I ask for one more favor?" Ric requested quietly.

"What is it?"

Ric looked at Falchon. "When you bring Lord Veranis his meal," he spoke as if there was no question that this would be done, "will you let him know that I have been imprisoned again?"

Falchon blinked. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to me." Ric frowned. "I promised him that I would return. I would not have him think that I abandoned him, or that I was deceiving him. Please?"

Falchon nodded slowly. "Alright. I will tell him, though it may bring him further despair to know it." He shrugged and motioned for the guards to take their posts on either side of the door, as usual.

The door was closed, and Ric heard the lock turn. He sighed and dropped his head onto his chest as frustration, helplessness, and despair threatened to engulf him. After a moment, he went to the couch and lay down, sighing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't give up though. It wasn't just himself he had to worry about, now. He had made a promise to Lord Veranis, and he intended to keep it. He just had to figure out some way of getting a message out, to get them both some help. The question was.. how?
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus - Dungeon


Lord Halberion Veranis
End of December

The dungeon had grown quiet, though not dark. The young man had left his torch, which was another small thing to be thankful for. He had also left his cloak around Hal's shoulders, and that was another blessing. He hoped to be permitted to keep it, since it tended to get chilly down here.

Hal still felt frustratingly weak, but he had light to see by, and he was unbound. After watching Ric (if it really was Ric) leave, he stayed very still, with his head leaned against the wall. Listening. The footsteps faded after a minute. Now, he was sure that he had truly gone, and that he was not merely pretending to leave so as to catch Hal in something. Given his experience with the other brother, Hal wouldn't put anything past that one, but he still wasn't sure whether to believe that this was the one he said he was.

He had not yet gained enough strength in his limbs to try walking, or he would have fled the cell with all possible speed. The bolt was even still undone! He stared at it longingly, tried to drag himself to up to his feet, but he quickly sank back down, the result of legs which had not the strength to support him. He let out a quiet sigh, feeling a little like a baby learning to walk again.

Shaking his head slightly to dispel the thought, Hal looked at the key in his hand. Well, if he couldn’t escape the cell, then at least he could make sure he wouldn’t be locked into that awful chair ever again. A simple toss took care of that; the small metal object struck the stone floor and skidded toward where a small, narrow drain led into the sewer system beneath the dungeon. Unfortunately, this drainage hole was too small for a person to crawl through, or it might prove a potential escape route. But he smiled faintly in satisfaction to hear the key strike the metal grate, then the slight clanking noise as it slid through the grate and into the depths of the sewer. Lost forever.

With a satisfied nod, Hal rested back against the wall. The chair was not the only way they had of keeping him immobile, but at least he had taken it out of the options, now. Of course, now, he realized that he had another problem. The jailor was sure to return before long, even if Ric did get out of the castle and find help. He frowned, his gaze finding the remaining half of the sandwich that he had left on the arm of the chair. He did not want to be deprived of the rest of it. Had enough time passed, that he might be able to finish it?

He waited as long as he could before finally dragging himself over there. It would certainly help him build up strength again. As the time passed, Hal wondered when to expect the jailor to return. While he wasn’t in any hurry for the man to come, he would have thought the man would have come by now to check that Hal was secured. Unless.. he frowned thoughtfully as he chewed the last bite of his sandwich. What if this was all a trick, to lure Hal out into an attempted escape? Well, if the sadistic trickster was trying to tempt Hal into making a break for it, he was going to be disappointed. Hal couldn't even get up on his own, yet.

More time had passed before he heard footsteps approaching. The jailor; he knew those footsteps well enough. He’d heard them every day for.. what was it, five years? six? He had begun losing count of the years by now.

When Falchon entered, he paused and frowned as he found the door left unbolted, and huffed in annoyance. “As if I wouldn’t notice that,” he muttered to himself. He stepped inside, and when his gaze landed on the empty chair, he tensed. It took him a couple of seconds to look past it, and see Hal sitting calmly on the floor in the corner, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching Falchon. “You realize you’ll have to go back into the chair,” He informed the prisoner.

Hal refrained from smiling. “If you insist.” He answered, almost casually. This seemed to catch the jailor by surprise. Hal didn’t make a move to try and comply with the unspoken demand, however.

With a sigh at the effort it was going to require of him, Falchon went over and grabbed one of Hal’s arms, pulling it around his shoulders to heave the underweight man to his feet, though he sagged somewhat against Falchon's side.

For a brief moment, Hal was tempted to try a headlock move that would, ordinarily, have been capable of rendering the jailor unconscious. But what would it achieve, even if he had the strength to make it work? He couldn’t flee, and would likely be crawling along the dungeon corridors, still seeking a way out, by the time the man awakened. Instead, he contented himself with the knowledge that he could not strap Hal to the chair anymore. He allowed himself to be pushed into the seat he despised so much, and with a calm gaze which had almost a hint of amusement, watched Falchon fumble with his keyring.

Falchon grew puzzled, then worried. “Where is it?” He asked, looking up at Hal, finally.

“Where is what?”

“You know what. Where’s the key?”

Hal tilted his head, feigning an innocent look. “Have you misplaced it, jailor?”

“It was here, and now it’s gone. What did he do with it?” Falchon demanded.

Hal did smile, then. Faintly. “Even if I knew where your key was, why would I tell you? So you can lock me in this ridiculous contraption again, for the next five years?” He raised an eyebrow slightly.

Falchon’s eyes narrowed, but he realized that the man was right. There was nothing to motivate him to tell where the key was. “Fine.” He let out a heavy sigh, taking a moment to think. “Alright. There’s other ways of keeping you immobile.. I just hope I don't get into trouble,” He muttered. With a little nod to himself, the jailor hauled his prisoner back out of the chair and toward another wall, where some shackles hung on chains. They were set at just the height that, if he sat on the floor, his arms would be held slightly above his head, and if he stood, they would be held down by his waist. Right about the same level as a doorknob, in fact. There was another set attached to the floor, for the ankles. They didn't have a very long length of chain attaching them to the wall, but it was enough to allow some slight movement.

Hal remained quiet while the jailor did his job, trying to be understanding of the fact that the guy was, in fact, only trying to follow his orders. He knew who was behind it all, and he put the blame for it entirely on that imposter ‘lord Ansellidus’. Before long, he was secured according to the jailor’s satisfaction. He kept his gaze focused on the man while he worked, privately resisting the temptation to test his range of movement.

“There,” Falchon stepped back, brushing his hands off. “Now that that’s done.. I was actually coming for another reason. First.. don't your hopes up about any sort of rescue.” He warned. “And don’t expect to see that fellow returning for you, either. He won’t be. And he won't be getting anyone else to help you, either.”

Hal blinked, keeping his expression as blank as he could manage, although his heart sank at these words. “Oh?”

“Yes.. you see, that young man who was here earlier,” Falchon explained, “he’s an imposter. Tried to fool us into thinking he was Lord Ansellidus, but he most certainly is not. He’s been captured and locked up again.”

“An imposter,” Hal muttered thoughtfully. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.” The rest, however… not so good to hear. He frowned. “Why are you telling me this?” He had to wonder... was it some sort of trick? Or perhaps the jailor was telling him this to take away what little hope he'd begun to have?

Falchon sighed. “I didn’t want to. But the fellow practically begged me to tell you. Said it mattered to him that you knew he would not be returning, and he wanted you to know why. I told him it’d probably only add to your despair, and I thought it best not to, but he insisted.”

“Hmm.." Hal considered this and recognized the young man's motive for that. "Thank you for telling me.” Hal said quietly, genuinely grateful. He would much rather know the reason why, than to be left continuously wondering. Or drawing his own conclusions. “Is that all?”

“Actually..” Falchon hesitated. “This must be your lucky day.” He shrugged. “From now on.. at least, until Lord Ansellidus returns, you’re to receive one meal a day. Sir Aderic insisted,” He explained.

Hal blinked in surprise at this news, and tilted his head curiously. “You’re following his orders?” He asked, mildly suspicious, or at least confused.

“Says he won’t eat his own meals unless you’re getting one as well.” The jailor explained with a shrug. “And.. well, we’ve been instructed to ensure that he remains in good health.” he added, a bit awkwardly.

“I see,” Hal nodded slowly, curious. “Orders from.. his brother?” He guessed, refusing to refer to him as ‘Lord Ansellidus’.

“That’s right, lord Ansellidus wants his brother confined, but kept healthy.” Falchon stepped outside for a moment. When he came in, he handed Hal a bowl of vegetable soup, lukewarm now.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” Hal couldn’t help remarking, with a little smile. “One brother impersonating a lord, the other impersonating the impersonator..”

Falchon frowned at this. “Do not speak of Lord Ansellidus like that. He is the rightful lord of this land, and should not be ill-spoken of.”

“You really believe that?” Hal shook his head slightly. The jailor helped him sip the broth, since his hands were bound, and he could not do it himself. It was a practice they were both accustomed to, since Hal was to be kept in a state of immobility.

“It is the truth. There is no denying it,” Falchon insisted. "Just eat, and let me get on with my other duties."

There was no point in trying to convince the man, as he was so obviously determined to believe the lie, so Hal kept quiet while he ate the much-appreciated soup. It was only a small portion, and he stopped when he felt that his stomach would hold no more. The jailor left soon after, but not before he discovered the gravel jammed into the doorframe. With a frown, he dug out each piece, and cast a disapproving look toward the cell’s occupant before closing the door. He was good enough to leave the torch, though it would probably burn out before very long.

Hal heard the familiar sound of the bolt sliding into place, and he knew the door was secured. But a slow smile spread on his face in the absence of the jailor. He slowly moved his arms to see how much he could do so, then tested his feet’s range of motion. Yes, this was certainly an improvement. He could do more to exercise his limbs, now. In time, if he worked at it, he might even be able to stand up and sit down. It would likely take a few weeks to build up the muscles in his legs and arms to be able to do that, but he was certainly willing to put in the time. And besides, what else did he have to do with his time? Having a meal each day would help tremendously in rebuilding his muscles, too.

Mentally, Hal thanked the visitor, Ric, who had come earlier. Thanks to him, things were starting to look a bit more positive for Hal, for the first time in years.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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