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

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Gladhron
Riding in the Pelennor, with Lt. Arnyn

Gladhron grinned. Gaeroch sensed a slight shift in his posture as he listened to her explaining about the route. It sounded easy enough; just follow the wall, basically. He nodded, holding Gaeroch back as she was already eager to run. He patted her lightly, smiling. "Just a moment, girl." He told her with amusement, knowing she was ready to go. She was not the best suited horse for riding into rough and rugged terrain, fighting enemies, and so on, but she was a sleek and fast horse, and it wasn't as often that they had a chance to actually put that speed to proper use.

As soon as Celume said 'go', Gaeroch sped off along the path with hardly any encouragement from Gladhron. He shifted so that his weight was balanced, so as to make it easier for the horse to run as fast as she wanted to. As Celume had predicted, it soon became obvious who was going to win. Grinning as they finally drew to a stop, he turned to watch while Celume and Narsule caught up to them, smiling as he let Gaeroch walk around a little to cool off after all that running. "That was fun!" He declared happily as soon as she was in earshot.

Overhearing her comment to Narsule, Gladhron grinned. "I'm sure he could," He agreed, also quietly, as he was aware of their audience not too far away. "Gaeroch doesn't much like orcs. She's not much of a fighter, I'm afraid," He explained with a little shrug as he rubbed her shoulder affectionately, as if to assure her that it was alright if she wasn't a fighter. "Mael is the girl for that sort of thing." That was why he'd been unable to find his own horse, after the incident with that orc ambush, after all, while Mael had stood her ground and then helped him find Gwestion. But he wouldn't trade his beloved Gaeroch for any other horse.

He stayed back slightly while Arnyn spoke with the guards, but maintained a friendly smile throughout. Once that was concluded, he waved in farewell to them as he and Celume turned their horses back toward the city. Along the way, they traded a few more funny stories, and spent the whole trip laughing about this or that, or occasionally a bit of friendly teasing about one thing or another.

"This was definitely fun!" Gladhron declared, smiling as they finally arrived back at the gates. "I'm glad I could join you." He was really happy to have gotten a chance to spend a bit of time with her. Even the more serious, saddening talk had been good, in a way. Sometimes it felt good to let things out and talk to someone, which he tried to tell Gwestion, without success. When they had reached the stable for Gaeroch, Gladhron waved to Celume as she went on to take Narsule up to the sixth level stable. "I'll see you later." He told her in parting, for he assumed he would be seeing her in just a short while, at the training grounds... little did he know, however, he would not be seeing her then. After parting ways, Gladhron spent a while grooming Gaeroch and made sure she had all the food and water she needed before heading for the inn. Already, he was starting to feel a bit of weariness from lack of sleep, but he thought he ought to grab a bite to eat before going off to the training grounds.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

The more Macardil heard, the less he liked it. And the more his patience was wearing thin. That Alyssa was probably not here anymore, was likea blow to the chest, only softened by the hope that Halberion was.

"What are their crimes, Sergeant?" Macardil suddenly demanded of Sergeant Bays. "If Lord Ansellidus has Lord Veranis in his dungeon - if your Lord had his... brother... locked up in the castle... On what grounds did Amardir rob them of their freedom? For it is against the law of the land to do so unless the prisoners have already been judged by the King or the institutions he has founded - or unless they are awaiting such judgment. My wife," Macardil declared, lifting a hand to gallantly indicate Ziran, "is a Cúner of the Rangers of Gondor, as well as the Lady of my House. I am a former Ranger, and a Lord of Belfalas. We are both well trained and well suited to take into our custody any prisoners your Lord was so kind to contain. We are well within our rights to transport them to face the justice they may deserve, in the nearest place where the right courts have been set up."

Macardil looked at the man whose shoulder he was still holding. Loosely - but still. "Your Lord could never rightfully blame you for letting Rangers of Gondor relieve you of your prisoners and bringing them to justice," he remarked. "Or would any of you or your comrades rather risk the wrath of the Ranger Captain and the King, than that of Amardir Ansellidus?" He raised an eyebrow whilst offering an incredulous little smile. "You cannot keep us here. Our whereabouts are known. And I can promise you, we would be very difficult to kill. It seems like I am in the position to offer you a choice."

"You can allow us inside. You can allow us to take Halberion Veranis from the castle dungeons and back with us to Minas Tirith. Anyone who fears that Lord Ansellidus will make good on his threats toward any of you if he finds his prisoners gone upon his return, may join us. They may testify against your Lord's illegal actions in the City of Kings, after which I will personally acquire them a new, suitable position elsewhere."

"Or - you can try and capture us. I cannot say I find your odds of success very reassuring. But even if you do succeed, you will face the consequences of that, very soon. And we will likely already be broken free by my wife's comrades in arms, even before the return of your Lord. After which, you will still succumb to his threats, I imagine. After which, there will be no other position for you, elsewhere. After which, your Lord may choose an altogether different route for you. If I am to believe this man," he indicated 'Andy'.

Macardil looked around, making eye contact with each of the guards in turn, and his gaze finally resting on the Sergeant. "Which option do you choose?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

"What are their crimes, Sergeant?"

Bays stared at the lord, eyes flicking from him to Andy, and back. He looked very uncomfortable, and even more so when the man continued speaking. "I.. uh, well, He was caught impersonating the lord," He motioned to Andy, but hesitated. "I.. couldn't say much about any other prisoners." He frowned, unsure what to think of any of this. Then, his eyes widened a bit at the suggestion of turning the prisoner over to them. "I couldn't do that.." He glanced at the two men who had come with him to apprehend the escaped prisoner and went quiet as Macardil began to speak, laying out his options.

The guard who had been prevented from going to report to Hankins, who still had Macardil's hand on his shoulder, was frowning at the sergeant. The other, in Andy's grasp with his arm behind his back, wasn't looking very pleased, either.

Ignoring the two other guards, Andy watched Bays, trying to guess what the sergeant may reply. He didn't think he was too bad of a guy, just.. following orders. He had seemed friendly enough toward him, before realizing he was the prisoner trying to escape.

Bays looked toward the lady ranger when she was indicated, and back to Macardil. Listening to the options that were laid out for him. Weighing them, considering them. Also considering what Andy had mentioned concerning his predecessor, the last sergeant of the guard. At last, he made up his mind. "I-I'll join you... if you really mean that?" He added anxiously. "I'll have protection? And another position, later?"

"If he said it, then I suspect he means it." Andy spoke up, with a glance toward Macardil. Hoping he was right in putting faith in the man's word. He looked back at Bays. "The question is, can we rely on you to release Lord Veranis to Lord Himhathol?"

Bays hesitated. "That... isn't my call, I'm afraid." He admitted. "The jailor is in charge of.. all that. Any prisoners kept in the dungeon, that is. I'm only in charge of the castle's security."

Right, the jailor. Andy turned to Macardil. "He may accept the same offer," Andy told him quietly, recalling what the man had said to him about how he didn't even want to be a jailor, but he had to do what he was told. "His name is Farchon, and he did not seem enthusiastic about his.. tasks as jailor. I think he would rather not be in the position of jailor. I don't believe he's very happy about any of this, but he's afraid not to follow his orders. I believe the same is true of the steward of the castle, Thinnion." He explained. "But I cannot say what the other guards may do," he added, with a glance to the other two who had not answered. "Some seem to be more reluctant than others, to see good sense." He observed with a pointed look at the two reluctant men.

The guard with Macardil scoffed. "He would absolutely blame us," He retorted. "You don't know Lord Ansellidus. He won't like this a bit, you know. He-"

"He isn't here. And hasn't been here in months." Andy reminded him, frowning. "For all any of us know, he may never return." He looked at Macardil. "I came here with the intention of confronting my brother about some things I suspected he was involved in." He explained, then turned to Lady Himhathol, remembering she was a ranger and therefore, perhaps the person he should tell this to, rather than Lord Himhathol. "I.. meant to bring him back to Minas Tirith to face up to those things, but he must have realized why I had come. I think he's fled, and may be laying low to see what's going to happen, perhaps. My theory is that he kept me locked up so I couldn't go after him.. or, perhaps because he didn't want me to know what he's up to, or.. I don't know." He sighed. "He may also be trying to set things up to frame me for some of the things he's done.. I really don't know." He drew a slow breath, trying not to appear as frustrated about it all as he was. "I don't even know anything that's been happening, while I've been locked up. But I do know some of the things that I've become aware of, while in that castle."

He glanced around at everyone present before continuing, addressing both of the Himhathols. "It's a very large castle, and easy to get turned around and confused, but I did my best to draw a sort of map of the halls I could remember, to try and find my way back to the dungeon to where I found Lord Veranis." He said, before realizing he did not have his pack with him still. "I.. think I must have left my pack in the gatehouse, however." He added apologetically. "I've also kept an account of everything that I learned during my 'stay' here, as well as trying to write down an account of everything I had learned about my brother's doings, before coming here. It's not as much as I had before, but.. it was better than doing nothing." He concluded with a small shrug.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

”Oh no, not the youngest. Around that age, there abouts.” Abrazimir confirmed with his own laugh, agreeing to the much older age of sixteen or so, when he first started his military service. It was a requirement in his family but he could understand the thrill of adventure and comradeship and it’s appeal to young folk like Eryn. He could also understand her father’s hesitance to permit her to join. Rangers wasn’t an easy life, especially with their duties often taking them to the borders of…that land, just over yonder, eastwards. Even with the Great Evil diminished, Abrazimir didn’t want to mention it even in thought.

The two shared a lot of mutual acquaintances, though with varying degrees. All names he was familiar with and it was wrought in his mind that these must be very good people then. ”I almost had my fill of sailing, after that adventure.” Abrazimir shook his head about that particular trek to Umbar. He reached over to pet Hattie’s back. ”How did she end up with you then?” He asked curiously, if the dog belonged to Unalmis.

”We came to Minas Tirith this winter for the Masquerade, hosted by the King and Queen. It was my sister’s first time. I had other business to conduct as well but I figure I could show her and her friend around.” He explained casually about his presence. ”And yourself? How long have you dwelt here? If it was before the War then you must have had quite the reconstruction effort.” Abrazimir said with a look towards the house. The orcs had burned everything on the Pelennor during their assault but the dwelling here seemed sturdy and fresh and everything. Hopefully they hadn’t lost too much in terms of possessions and all.

---

Bows were doled out, according to their stature and size. Gaer’s was a little bigger and wound very tight. The draw weight was formidable and she really had to steel and anchorage herself to make it work. She sure wasn’t going to back down from this challenge though, but it might be exhausting in the long run and that fatigue would affect her efforts. ”I think the one I used was slightly less wound than this one. I can make it work. Only way to get better, right?” Gaer said encouragingly.

Yes, archers killing dragons seemed the preferable route. Don’t want to run up to a fire breathing drake and hit it with a sword or spear or something. But hearing Eryn shot an orc was surprisingly and astonishing, making Gaer’s mouth drop. ”What? When?” She asked in an urgent whisper, careful not to be too loud in case her father heard. ”You have to tell us that story.” Gaer urged alongside Linny. Secrets were their speciality. She had quite a few already in her pocket.

”We saw an orc too. Well, pirates are like orcs, aren’t they?” Gaer added casually to the conversation. No, the pretend orc they saw was a man, but from the stories she heard about orcs…the two were indistinguishable in her mind. Just evil and cruel. And maybe a little ugly but Gaer never liked to judge things based on their appearance.

”Couple months ago. She was a Ranger too.” Gaer nodded to Eryn’s question about having shot before. They knew the basics, but a refresher never hurt, and it would give Eryn a chance to show off her own skills. Every teacher was different. Eryn got to showing them the basic techniques, of notching, drawing, aiming, shooting. Not to mess around with the bowstrings and so forth.

”I heard in some cultures, the women will weave some of their hair into the bowstring, for their menfolk to use. So that their men, husbands or brothers or sons, can have something to remember what they’re fighting for. I think that’s adorable.” Gaer regaled the other two girls at first. ”Okay, I’ll go first. Don’t judge me too harshly.” She laughed nervously, going to the line with the stronger bow Eryn had presented to her. She took an arrow as well and assumed the posture, turning her body sideface, bow in her hand, notching the arrow with her right.

She then drew the arrow and string back together, feeling the tremendous counter-pull in the draw strength, but managing to draw it back fully. She took aim, maybe a few seconds too long, which had her arm shaking a little with the constant pressure, but she let loose the arrow with a powerful and vivid twang, that sounded so satisfying, though not as gratifying as when the arrow hit the target, midway between center and rim. ”I hit it!” Gaer exclaimed happily, though now she wondered if it had truly been skill or just beginner’s luck.

”Okay Linny, you’re younger and less maniac than me, you can get the center!” She encouraged her best friend jokingly, moving back beside Eryn, ready for any critique. But by the stars, her right arm was aching from the tremendous draw strength and she kept on clenching and unclenching her hand.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Macardil noticed the other two guards looked rather reluctant, even though the sergeant was seriously considering his offer. "I mean it," Macardil confirmed, after 'Andy' spoke up. "All you need to do, is help us release Lord Veranis from the dungeons and lend us what aid you can give from this point forward until we reach Minas Tirith. If you mean no one any harm, I give you my word. Protection, and a different position, befitting your skills, elsewhere, if you wish it so." It was a solemnly spoken promise.

"I am giving you the same offer," Lord Himhathol added, frowning slightly at the other two guards. "And you say Lord Ansellidus will definitely blame you, if you do not keep this man and Lord Veranis at the castle. Which is against the law - or it at the very least becomes against the law when the opportunity arises to have such prisoners moved to a place where they can be put on trial, if they have indeed done wrong. What inspires your loyalty to Lord Ansellidus, if it is not your belief in his righteous treatment of his employees, nor your belief in his loyalty to the rule of laws, established by King Elessar?" His muscles tensed a little, as if preparing for a counterreaction. "Fear?" he suggested.

He also considered 'Andy's' words. Retrieving that map would be best - even if the sergeant claimed to be on their side. For possession of that map would not make them dependent on the sergeant, should anything go awry on that front. He gave 'Andy' a nod, to indicate he had heard him.

Growing impatient with the prospect of his long-lost friend being within hand's reach, Macardil made sure to focus on the man whose shoulder he was still holding. "You need not fear Lord Ansellidus, if you come with us. You might do well to fear me, however, if you decide to stand in my way."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

Sergeant Bays listened to the requirements and nodded, somewhat relieved. "This job isn't what it was when I first took it," He sighed. "I'd be happy for a position elsewhere.. if there's a guarantee of protection included." He agreed, still rather nervous about what Lord Ansellidus might do if he found out. But this was definitely the best option on the table. "I'll help if I can, you have my word." He straightened up a bit more, determined to do that.


The guard by Macardil scoffed with derision as the man tried to sway him with the same promises, asking what held his loyalty. As if he had any to these people. He listened with amusement while the guy spoke about laws and righteous employers and a lot of other junk. "Tell you what," He turned to Macardil with a little grin. "If you're willing to pay me more than I'm already getting paid, and I'll happily switch sides." He declared, waiting a moment to see if he had any plans to make any such offers. "Til then, I'm following my orders, as were given to me by the fellow in charge here." He turned to cast a scornful look toward Bays. "The fellow who's really in charge, I mean." He added, pointedly making it clear that Sergeant Bays was not really the one he considered 'in charge', when it came down to it. "And we ain't afraid of you." He added to Macardil, scoffing.


Andy sighed as he listened, then looked at the guard he held with an arm behind his back. The man looked rather defiant, like he agreed with the other guy. Turning to the Himhathols, Andy spoke up. "I suspect these two are not going to cooperate," He mentioned quietly. "Therefore... I have a suggestion." He hesitated slightly before speaking his idea.

"There is a gatehouse just around the curve, at this side of the bridge. There was only one man on duty there, when I was there, earlier," He mentioned, though he was unsure what that man would do, but he suspected he would be of the same mind as these other two. "Inside the gatehouse is a brazier, to allow the men on duty to keep warm. We can tie these two up, and the gatekeeper if necessary, and leave them there without fearing they would be too cold." He mentioned.. he didn't want to be cruel or anything, after all. "Across the bridge is another guardshack, and that is where I left my pack... when Hankins realized who I was and tried to recapture me, I ran." He explained. "Once we've secured the first gatehouse.." He began, before being interrupted by his captive.

"You won't even get through the gate." He scoffed at the very notion of the gate guard simply letting them in, since he knew the fellow and had worked alongside him for a very long time. He was quite confident that the fellow wouldn't just give in and open the gate for these invaders.

Andy paused at hearing this bold declaration, and smiled faintly in amusement. "Oh, yes we will." He answered, quite pleased by something he'd managed to accomplish during his escape. He switched which hand he was using to hold the guy, so that he could use the other to fish out a keyring from his pocket, which contained a few keys. "I.. swiped it from the gate guard while struggling with him, earlier," he explained, as he offered it out to either Macardil or his lady, whichever might be better able to take it.

Looking startled as the key was revealed, the guy standing with Andy suddenly took advantage of the shift in Andy's grip on him and managed to yank his arm free when he noticed a moment of distraction. He pivoted swiftly and shoved Andy so that they both fell down to the road, trying to pin him and get the key away from him.

Caught off guard, Andy fell under him and struggled. He heard Bays shout "watch out!" but he wasn't sure who he was talking to, and was too busy to look around and see.

As soon as he saw his buddy turn to attack Andy, the other fellow decided to finally make a move against Macardil*, who had only been holding him by the shoulder; partly, to keep him from coming to Andy's aid. Drawing a knife, he exclaimed something in a language used in the South as he spun swiftly toward the nobleman with an attempt at stabbing him in the gut, having grown tired of this whole standoff situation. He hoped to catch him off guard and put an end to this annoying Gondorian lord, then deal with the others as necessary. He was definitely not thinking too far ahead of the consequences, by this point.


(*cleared with writer)

---

@Lantaelen

Duinion

Duinion grinned. "Yes, sixteen sounds a bit more likely." He agreed. He indicated his campfire. "Would you like some tea or coffee?" He offered, since he had a pot cooking on the fire. He had some tin mugs about, and if Abrazimir confirmed that he would like some, Duinion would pour them both a cup, listening as the other man spoke of how that adventure had nearly caused him to stop sailing afterward. Apparently, he had not, however.

As for Hattie, Duinion settled back with a little smile. "Well, Unalmis lives at the barracks. He can't keep a dog there, and Addhor couldn't really take care of an energetic little terror like her," He explained. If Abrazimir knew Addhor, he would know why that was. The wooden leg would make it far too easy to trip over an animal, especially one as hyper as Hattie. Not to mention her love of chewing on things. Speaking off.. "Hey, stop that!" Duinion scolded her, when he realized she was trying to chew on Abrazimir's boot. "Sorry," he apologized. "Anyway, Eryn offered to take care of her for him, and she has plenty of space out here, so it worked out quite well for Hattie. Unalmis comes out to visit almost daily, which is fine, since he's a close friend. Both of mine, and of my daughter."

"Ah, the masquerade," Duinion nodded slightly as that was brought up. "There was a lot of talk leading up to that. My sister and her husband considered going, but in the end, they decided to just stay home and enjoy the evening at home." He looked around as his guest asked about how long they'd been here. "Eryn and I have lived here with my sister for.. almost eight years. The farm has been in my brother-in-law's family for a few generations, though." He let out a little sigh at the mention of rebuilding. "Yes. The rebuilding was hard," He agreed. "Thankfully, they were safely in Lossarnach while.. all that was going on. Including the cows, so really, the biggest loss was having to rebuild the house and barn, and the fences." He still remembered the horrors of that time, and would rather not draw the memories up.

"And how is your sister and her friend liking it here, during their stay?" He asked. He could see them still over there, but could not hear their talking except an occasionally louder giggle or snatch of exclamation. But he wasn't trying to listen in, since he figured they were only chatting about girlish things. Nothing at all of interest to the two men.

Dulinneth, with Erynneth
Dec 22 - Pelennor/Dairy Farm
New friends

As she watched Gaer test out her bow, Eryn was trying to decide if it was suitable for her or not. Gaer was older than Eryn, but Eryn had sort of forgotten how much she practiced, so that the 35 lb bow was not that difficult for her. But Gaer said she could make it work, so Eryn didn't argue.

"Pirates?" Eryn made a face, then shook her head. "Orcs are way, way worse than pirates." She assured her friend. "Pirates are just people who commit crimes." She hesitated. "Most of them are bad, but they're just like... bandits with a ship, sorta. I guess. But orcs... they're.. truly fearful." She lowered her voice back to a hushed tone, and proceeded to describe the orcs she had seen with her own eyes, how ugly and completely inhuman they were. "My father fought against them many, many times in his days in Ithilien, and he used to tell me stories about them." She shivered. "Believe me, they're far worse."

"But how'd you end up shooting on?" Linn asked, wide-eyed as she waited to hear that part. "Didn't it get angry? How'd you get away?"

Eryn shook her head slightly with a little laugh at the questions. "Well, I'll tell you the shortened version." She decided, glancing back to make sure the men were far enough away. "My friend and I went to see Ithilien... and I didn't exactly check if my father was alright with it, since he was away with a trainee in the mountains at the time, so... that's one reason I'd rather he didn't find out..."

"Right, we won't tell." Linn promised again.

"So, anyway, we were having a nice time exploring around, when these five orcs showed up, and we ended up having to run. My friend stopped to fight them because she was trying to protect me, but then she nearly got killed, so that's when I turned and shot at the orc that was attacking her." She left out quite a lot so not to drag the tale out too much, since she didn't want to risk her dad hearing anything. "Anyway, I had to shoot it twice, but, I killed it." She answered Linn's question about how she got away. "My friend had killed the rest of them, but then she was hurt. And then we got home as fast as we could and got her to the houses of healing," She wrapped her arms around herself. "I started my apprenticeship a few weeks later. I wanted to be able to know what to do, in case I was ever in a situation like that again. It was scary, you know?" She said softly, thinking back to that period of panic when she'd been frantically trying to get Kaylin back to someone who could help her, thinking she was about to die any second...

"Wow.." Linn breathed out softly, wondering how she'd do, if she had to face a scary situation like that.

Clearing her throat, Eryn glanced at her two friends and smiled, trying not to get too serious. "It was almost a year ago, now. Everything worked out alright." She listened with a smile as Gaer spoke of women weaving their hair into a bowstring, and smiled. "My father's bow has a hair ribbon tied on it," She informed them. "It was my mother's," She added softly. "He uses it for gauging the wind direction and stuff, but he also likes having something of hers attached to it, I think." She watched as Gaer attempted to shoot, and clapped for her when she hit the target. "Good job!" She cheered, glad that she had hit the target.

It was Linn's turn next, then. She laughed at Gaer's words as she stepped up with the weaker bow, and readied an arrow on the string, though she had a moment of trying to decide which feather needed to go up, until Eryn helped her briefly. Then she stepped back, and Linn took careful aim. The arrow went a bit wide of the target, however.

"Good job, don't worry about not hitting it at first. It takes a bit of getting used to," Eryn spoke encouragingly, then turned to Gaer, noticing the way she was working her hand, and recalled the trembling in her arm, before. "Right, I think you two should probably share that one," She told her, indicating the bow Linn was using. "It looked like you were really having trouble with mine, and my dad says you shouldn't use a bow that's too strong for you."

Hearing this, Linn held out the other bow to Gaer. "This one's not as hard to pull as the ones we used before." She told her. "You should be able to use it better!"

Eryn smiled slightly. "That's also the bow that I had with me, in Ithilien." She added in a whisper. "That was before I had this one," She added, meaning the stronger one. "And, I was using these practice arrows, since it's all I had." She informed them. She decided she ought to offer some tips on better aiming techniques, next time each of them was going to shoot, so that they would be able to get better.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

”Tea sounds excellent. No sweetener or anything, please.” Abrazimir accepted the proffered request of a drink. The quality of the cups or nature of the brewing didn’t bother him, he had enjoyed tea and other beverages and meals in the most banal and austere of settings. This was actually pleasant. They had a fire, and good company, and the dog was-

The dog was chewing at the leather of his shoe. Abrazimir just laughed and waved his hand at Duinion, letting him know it was no big deal or anything. It was good leather boots he was wearing. ”She’s not the first and won’t be the last.” He said, shaking his head with a grin, and petting Hattie, trying to get her up into his lap and arms. He understood Duinion’s charity though, taking care of Hattie for Unalmis and Addhor, with his leg and all. Definitely needed an equally energetic individual to take care of a dog like this.

More and more throughout the evening, he was convinced these were very good people, having so many mutual acquaintances. Abrazimir and Unalmis had basically almost died together in a few perils and such. As the tea brewed, Duinion talked about their farm and how long it’s been in their – that is, his sister's husband's – family. He nodded understandingly to the building. The orcs had torn down every homestead, the ones they didn’t burn at least, and used the lumber for their fires and reinforcing their siege equipment. Abrazimir glanced back to the City a moment, remembering his position up there, while the orcs had swarmed over this very land like if the void of night had come down to the very earth.

Duinion’s query drew him back though and he seemed startled out of that dark reprieve. ”Oh, yeah, they are very enjoying it. And after the War they only get to see the bright and prosperous side of it. The history and the lore and the pride.” Abrazimir trailed off. ”You have only lived here eight years, huh? Where did you dwell before that? I have only ever lived in Belfalas in one place but I would not mind a second home here. My kinswoman Isys has her own apartment in the upper levels of the City. She seems to enjoy it, though curiously there’s never been a mention of the rent or other costs of lodging.” He said with a short laugh.

---

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

They got their wish alright, with Eryn regaling them with her encounter with the orcs. They were nothing like pirates. At least pirates, being like men, could be comprehended. Evil was taught to them. Orcs were something else. Evil was inherent to them, or so it was said. Both Gaer’s father and brother had fought against them but never boasted or told those tales. Against pirates and on sea, those stories they openly discussed but never against the soldiers of…yonder land, just eastwards. Even thinking about it brought a chill to her.

And it was still a pleasant evening with all the fires and illumination of the yard.

”You went to Ithilien during the War?” Gaer had to gasp, in a hushed, urgent whisper. But that wasn’t an important detail. Gaer had never been across the Great River before and she was paused completely in her shooting to listen to Eryn tell her tale. Just her and a friend…against five foes. Even had they both been trained and veteran, it would have been a tremendous task and challenge to take on. She hung on the tale like the ending was still so uncertain and very real, even if it was obvious just by the fact that Eryn was in front of them that she and her friend prevailed. The orc…not a single arrow could put it down, seeming more powerful than beast or man who might be felled by one shaft. Luckily, both Eryn and her friend survived and they made it back. Now she was trying to wonder…who was the friend? She didn’t know that she had already met the person.

”Wow, indeed.” Gaer said about Linny’s own astonishment. She looked at her best friend a moment, wondering indeed how she might react in a situation. She was older. She was bigger. She would have to make the stand to protect the younger Dulinneth. Her answer and resolve felt so strong in that moment. She would. She could! She had to, she promised herself. But it was easy to make such promises and oaths, in a time of peace and security like this.

Fortunately, Eryn’s explaining of her father’s bow and her mother’s ribbon attached to it was sweet enough to bury those feelings for now. Brother and sister both affected by dark clouds over their spirits. But companionship and friendship was the cure.

Her first shot rang out and Eryn applauded her efforts, Gaer performing a little curtsey in appreciation of the encore, like she was about to be a performer at the ballet or something. She giggled though, at the incredulity of her own gesture though, having pretended to be too formal. Dulinneth was up next and Gaer felt her heart stop with her hopes for her friend to achieve the same if not better result. Linny took aim and loosed, but her shot missed the target completely and skittered somewhere behind. ”Good try!” She praised Linny nonetheless.

Eryn had them share the smaller bow and honestly, Gaer felt her arms would thank her the following day for it. ”I think the first attempt already exerted my arm too much.” Gaer had to agree with Eryn’s assessment. That was a bow for a pro. She took the bow from Linny with a muttered thanks and took an arrow, feeling it notch and draw back much more easily. So this was the bow that killed an orc, huh? Tried, tested, and true. It felt an honour to wield such a thing, even in practice, having been used to protect Gondor and it’s people.

”Ooo.” She hummed at the contrasting difference, the feathered end of the shaft drawn to her cheek, as she took aim. After a few heartbeats of being unsure about her aim, Gaer released the bow, arm raised in a follow through, as the air hummed with the twang of the release and her shaft sped forward. Again, she struck the target, around the outer perimeter.

”Oh, okay. I was still shooting like I was using the stronger bow. You have to adjust for the strength, or something, right?” Gaer inquired of Eryn, seeking guidance on whether her own assessment on her shot was correct or not. A good student always asked questions, right? Use logic to rotate the bad behaviors out and reinforce the good behaviors to slowly get it right. And of course, plenty of practice to perfect the process.

She handed the bow back to Dulinneth. ”Good luck, mellon nín.” She beckoned to Linny sweetly and stood a little beside Eryn, to observe and watch. ”I really love your set up. And it doesn’t seem that complicated. Just need a yard, and some targets, and lighting…and of course the bows and arrows. That is probably the biggest obstacle to having a range of my own.” Gaer pondered aloud, how she and Linny might source this at home and be able to practice, so that maybe on their next return to Minas Tirith, they could impress Eryn with some improvement! Make their teacher proud.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth, with Erynneth
Dec 22 - Pelennor/Dairy Farm
New friends

"During the war?" Eryn shook her head. "No, no, this was only last spring." She assured her. "That's why my friend thought it'd be safe to go, because the war had been over for a few years now." She explained. "So, it was quite surprising to find any of them there." She watched as Gaer went to shoot again. "I should probably mention that my friend is older than I am, and she's also a ranger, and that she reported the issue to the captain immediately after we got back. I believe they've already dealt with it, but I never heard anything more about how they got so close." She added, then paused. "I better not say who my friend is, though." She didn't think they'd go telling anyone about this, since she'd said it was a secret, but she didn't want to risk anything getting out which might bring trouble to Kaylin.

She was glad that the lighter bow was easier for Gaer to use, and felt a little bad that she had not been more mindful about that in the first place. Watching her draw, Eryn gave a little nod to see that she was able to hold it there for long enough to aim. When she took a shot, Eryn thought it was a good shot, but Gaer didn't seem to agree, commenting on having not compensated for the bow being weaker. "You did pretty good!" Eryn told he, impressed. "It takes a lot of practice to get good enough to hit the target every time. That's twice in a row that you've hit it! That's better than I did when I first started shooting." She shrugged, smiling. When Gaer went to hand the bow to Linn, however, Eryn spoke up. "Hold on," She indicated for Gaer to hold onto it, then had her draw again, and gave her a few pointers... on where to point the arrow. She also reminded her to remain relaxed, and praised the fact that she hadn't dropped her arm the moment the arrow left the bow.

She had another suggestion, then. "Maybe, instead of taking turns, since you're both so new to it, perhaps it would be best if you each take a few shots before letting the other shoot? That way, you can get a feel for where you need to aim. It's easier when you shoot one after another, rather than starting fresh each time." She explained. "So, you could take.. say, five shots. The first one, as you see, is too far to one side. So, you know that you need to adjust slightly. Now.. it's harder than just adjusting slightly one way or another, because you have to factor in the wind, and if you might've been holding the string slightly different, and so on. That's why it has that little knot there, see?" She pointed out the little knot, tied near the center of the string. "When I used that bow, I always nocked my arrow just below that, so the knot kept the nock from sliding up or something. It makes sure that my arrow is placed exactly the same way, every single time. And that helps, but it still will take a lot of practice to get good enough that you don't have misses. And even I still miss sometimes, so don't be too hard on yourself if you do." She grinned. Eryn had been working at this, with lengthy, daily practice, since she was at least Dulinneth's age.

"Anyway, when I first started out, my dad gave me a dozen arrows, and I'd go through all of them in one go. Later, when I started refining my aim, I started to cut down on how many shots I got at one time. The first shot is always the hardest, because you're just starting out. If that makes sense. So, anyway. Go ahead and take a few more, then we'll give Linn a turn," She glanced at Linn briefly to make sure she wasn't going to be too disappointed.

Linn smiled and nodded in agreement. "That seems fair, and that makes sense, too!" She answered. "I wonder," She tilted her head thoughtfully, looking around. "We have an archery lane at my house, but my brother doesn't let me join him for practice." She frowned. "I'm not sure if I would be able to use it, but maybe I could set up my own place, in the woods." She had a few places she liked to go to, when she was out riding. Maybe she could set up a small little shooting spot, out there. But she didn't know if Gaer could get a place. "And, well... I don't know what I'd do about a bow, or arrows." She realized, unsure if this would work anyway.

Eryn considered their dilemma, thoughtfully glancing around. "I don't know why your brother wouldn't let you use the lane if he isn't there, but it wouldn't take that much to make your own place, you're right." She said to Linn, thinking a moment. "If I had two bows like that.." She began, then paused. "Well, how close do you two live, anyway?" She asked. "I mean, I don't have much need for that bow anymore. I thought I might give it to Berion when he gets old enough for it, but my dad could also make him one just as easily." She mentioned. "And we definitely have plenty of arrows..." She hesitated. "If you could share the bow, then maybe that could work?" She paused. "I mean, if no one is going to object to you having it..."

---

Duinion

After passing a cup of tea to Abrazimir, Duinion poured one for himself as well. He was glad the guy was good-natured about Hattie's chewing, and grinned back when he laughed it off. "Be glad you're at least sitting down while she's chewing on them." He grinned. "Unalmis often isn't as fortunate."

He was glad to hear that the girls were enjoying their time here, and while he was a bit curious how Eryn had come to meet them, he figured it was probably better to ask her, not Abrazimir. He nodded at the mention that the young ladies only got to see the good and bright side of the city. That was for the best, he thought. After the devastation the orcs had left behind, the destruction had been... horrible. He had been glad his daughter and sister had been away, and had been spared from having to see it all. He would have rather not had to see their home like that.

The question about where he had lived before that made him blink. "Before?" He hesitated. "I.. had a house, elsewhere in the Pelennor." He answered quietly. He cautiously sipped his tea, finding it still just a bit too hot. "When my wife died, I came to live with my sister so that she could take care of my daughter while I was away in Ithilien," He explained more solemnly. It had not been an easy time, trying to adjust to being a single parent, while also being called away on duty so often. It had been a relief to know that Eryn had a home where she would be safe and cared for, even if something were to happen to him.

He paused, thinking a moment after what Abrazimir said concerning Isys. "I was under the impression that Lady Isys had an entire house, not an apartment," he mentioned curiously. "In the fifth level, I believe... and she also has a shop, in the second level." He had been there, of course, but he didn't know which house was hers on the fifth level. "I don't know her all that well, but I have met her, a few times. And Unalmis speaks of her at times, for they often train together." He explained, leaving out the young man's rather annoying attempts at 'fixing them up', or hints that he thought she was interested in him. "If you are interested in getting a place, there are sure to be several empty ones." He mentioned. "But I don't know if you're looking for a place in the city, or outside of it. Perhaps you might ask Isys how she went about purchasing her house?"

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

Last spring! And orcs were still in Ithilien? That was barely…fifty miles away from them! But the Great River shielded them right? Now that was a terrifying prospect. She thought to talk with Abrazimir about it because it seemed like the War was still ongoing. And here they were, being silly and merry and all, when a day or two’s march eastward might see them in conflict again. Insanity! The identity of Eryn’s friend, that could stay secret, for Gaer understood the importance of such, neither revealing hers nor asking about others.

Her second shot was praised but Gaer felt it was more luck than any actual skill on her part. Perhaps it might be because she was older when first learning and could comprehend the mechanics a bit better? She was asked to pause before handing it off to Linny, with Eryn walking her through the posture again. Ready her stance, turned sideways, draw the string back beside her face…and try to relax and not be so tensed! She couldn’t help it! The twang of the bowstring was such a vivid and snapping sound, it frightened her a little. But she was getting used to it.

Eryn then suggested they try a couple of shots each before handing it off. That made more sense. ”Oooh, okay.” Gaer said, absolutely enticed by Eryn’s talk of the string and knot, and using that as a reference point. She was about to urge Linny to go then, taking a handful of shots, but both the other girls nudged her to do it. ”Okay, I’ll try my best, and remember what you told me.” She said, mulling over the explanations in her head, as she readied herself before the target. She was just about to draw up again, while the two girls chatted behind her…

Then Linny mentioned her brother and his severe rules on letting Linny practice with him, and Gaer twitched from emotion and loosed her shot, a little too early, fully missing the target this time as the arrow whizzed behind and clattered against the wall behind. Mention of that rude boy distracted her and upset all her concentration. Gaer huffed, taking a second arrow and putting it to the string, though she didn’t nock it yet. She held it low, pointed at the ground, turning to look at her friends.

”I’ve thought of that too.” She said about sharing a bow or something. ”It’s always…just acquiring one. With some arrows. But yeah…there are some who would object to us keeping it.” She explained, seriously at first, before putting on a little teasing grin. ”Maybe they know, just like you, we might get ahead of ourselves and go on a little adventure. Bad influences and all.” She said, casting Eryn a wink to showcase she was only joking around, before turning back to the range. Gaer could certainly be a bad influence on Linny. Her brother and father disapproved, yet here was Gaer subverting their command by getting the younger girl involved in such activities.

Well, a mouth of sand for that silly boy. Hopefully he’ll learn. In time. Before the…thing…

Gaer readied herself for another shot and this time tried to remember Eryn’s coaching, using the knot in the string to position her arrow, getting used to the stance and posture while aiming. Just like this. Every time. She drew the arrow back and again let loose, this time overshooting the target. She wasn’t discouraged. Girls can do anything that silly boy thought he could do. She took another, and nocked it, and let loose. Again, she hit the target, along the outside. And a fourth followed, hitting the target, but nowhere near the center. She can get it in the right direction, but accuracy was going to take many practices to hone and temper.

”That’s five. Here you go, Linny. You are the youngest so you are the future and you must avenge my terrible performance!” She teased her best friend as she handed off the bow, moving to stand with Eryn.

---

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

Duinion’s past was a tragedy, revealing himself to be a widower, seeking the aid of his sister to provide a maternal role for his daughter. He hummed sympathetically, finding the situation all too relatable. Lots of circumstances like that after the War, where one, or both, parents do not return. His sister had been shipped to the vales of the Ered Nimrais in case her family had been wiped out. One of the sad facts of war. But thankfully, that was all done now. And Eryn seemed to have a rather comfortable and stable life here now.

”House, apartment, it’s all carved out of the rock.” Abrazimir laughed at his own mistake. A City like Minas Tirith was truly something special in Middle Earth, by it’s design and scale. ”Unalmis is very close with the Azrubels. They are truly good people, drawing in such bonds and connections.” He noted at first, sipping his tea. And the other tea, of Duinion and Isys, it was smart to keep that under wraps because Abrazimir would absolutely dine on that bit of gossip for years.

”Ehh,” Abrazimir hummed unsure about acquiring his own apartment or home here in the City. It did seem like a wonderful dream. A fantasy. But that’s all it ever might be for him. ”For myself, with how my responsibilities take me about the Realm and the sea, I don’t think a permanent residence will ever be in the cards. I’ve grown accustomed to treating as home wherever I might lay my sleeping cot. I’m sure as a Ranger you can relate to that.” He gestured to Duinion.

The sound of laughter and the snap of bow strings could be heard on occasion, Abrazimir occasionally peering over in that direction. ”Your daughter is good at that, huh. You ever think she might do what you do?” He inquired of the man, finding his whole status as a single father with a girl to be interesting and strange. Traditionally, childrearing was the duty of women and even with help, Duinion must have had to step up in a variety of ways in some circumstances. What could that be like, Abrazimir had to wonder. Could he do that?

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

'If you're willing to pay me more.' Macardil had to watch himself, as not to scowl. Sellswords. The type that could only be trusted for as far as a bag of coin lasted them. And even then...

While he did not think he would have any trouble actually paying them, Macardil will ill inclined to believe they would not turn around and stab him in the back. Who knew what kind of promises had been made to them, after all? Macardil's gut wrenched, as he thought over what it mean that Alyssa's husband had hired such men. That Alyssa's husband had... imprisoned her father. What kind of man... Macardil frowned, looking back at 'Andy'. Who looked almost exactly like he thought he remembered Lord Ansellidus. Brothers, 'Andy' had said. Who looked very much alike. Andy... Macardil's eyes narrowed as he listened to the man's suggestions.

Right before the latter was thrown to the ground, the guard he'd been securing on top of him. Macardil, who'd already been tensed and ready before, reacted at the same time the guard he was holding by the shoulder responded. The sun flashed off the blade of a knife. The guard was fast. But so was Macardil. Although the Lord had no weapons, he had his hands and his reflexes - which hopefully would prove enough to slam the guard's forearm away from its intended trajectory and subsequently disarm him...

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Alyssa, who they had come for, was away. Lord Ansellidus, this “Andy’s” brother, was also apparently away. There were several unnumbered guards beyond the walls, and Halberion, Macardil’s great friend, in the dungeon. The problem seemed to compound. At least this was no longer a rescue of a well-bred young lady, although subterfuge might still need to play a part. Ziran had watched warily as Andy drug the guard he was holding somewhat in front of her horse so as to address both her and Macardil more directly, although she did not miss that his “asides” could just as easily be heard by the two guards. She wasn’t keen on his positioning, but kept quiet as she watched and listened to the conversation alertly. The tale told was one of strange and terrible intrigue, with brother pitted against brother, prisoners, poison, and escape attempts. Alyssa missing, and many unexplained deaths and disappearances. Her gaze narrowed as she listened, with all traces of her earlier smile fading away.

When Macardil addressed the Sergeant, asking about the men’s crimes, and then indicating her rank and authority to receive prisoners alongside his authority as a Lord, she lifted her chin in acknowledgement, her gaze flicking darkly to Bays with a weighty stare. She assessed each man in turn as Macardil offered them a choice, nodding in agreement to his offer and the reminder that the Rangers knew where they were and would follow-up on any disturbance. The men didn’t seem inclined to listen, despite the Sgt’s more amenable attitude. Her frown deepened in thought as the discussion continued and Andy gave his explanation that he had been attempting to take his brother into custody…alone…when taken captive himself, and that he somehow had a pack and a map left behind. Macardil seemed to trust him, but he seemed both earnestly competent and inept all at once with his extensive preparations that left out key details. This very large castle that required a map was a concern, although she wasn’t sure how the man could discern the extensiveness of its defenses unless he had been there multiple times before.

Ziran admired that Macardil continued with his attempts at diplomatic persuasion, as the Sgt was open to it, but the expressions of the two lightly restrained guards didn’t seem convinced in the least. She wanted to ask about how many guards were stationed throughout the castle, but the questions could wait. What was that accent she had caught earlier? She listened more closely as the one with Macardil scoffed at his words and argued back that he didn’t follow the Sgt’s orders and had no fear of them. Who did he fear then? Her gaze flicked back to Andy as he began to lay out his plans quietly, and it sharpened as he continued. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword as she listened, unsure of his confident tone.

Despite her wariness, she wasn’t able to react swiftly when events spun out of control, hampered as she was by the position of Andy as he stepped towards her and Macardil with keys outstretched and away from the guard in his grip, who immediately wrenched away and tackled him to the ground. Her attention was momentarily caught by the struggle, with the indecision about whether she could safely use her sword prominent in her mind even as she lifted it once more to readiness.

Hearing the Sgt’s call of warning as movement and the flash of a knife registered, her head swung to see the other guard, attacking her husband with a shout of his own. Her eyes widened as she registered the language he used, even as Macardil moved swiftly to block and hopefully disarm him. “Umbarians!” The word was a low but emphatic exclamation of disbelief. Umbarians here!
She didn’t have time to parse through the implications yet of Ansellidus employing men of Umbar as trusted guards. Anger laced her tone and blazed from her dark eyes as she leaned from the saddle and swung her sword tip down with controlled force to halt it at the neck of the guard struggling with Andy. “Freeze or die!” It would be up to him to halt his movement enough to comply without injury.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Duinion

He merely shrugged when the other man commented that 'it was all carved out of rock'. Duinion did not feel like going into the differences between a house versus an apartment, and therefore he did not. While he could understand people only being able to afford a small apartment, paying rent by the month and so on, he would never feel comfortable living in such a place himself.

He nodded in understanding, however, when Abrazimir mentioned that he was used to sleeping wherever he put his cot. Grinning, Duinion motioned to his campsite. "Same." He agreed. "I feel more at home in the outdoors than indoors, to be honest."

Looking toward the girls, when his attention was directed there, Duinion let out a soft sigh. "She will." He answered, almost gloomily. There was no doubt about it in his mind. "That is her plan, and intent, though I have made it clear that I would rather she found a safer path for her life." He took a sip of his tea, but when he lowered the cup, he was smiling faintly. "And yes. She is good at it," He added, a note of pride in his tone, now. "She will be an excellent ranger, of that, I have no doubt. Though there is far less danger to the job now, I just.. worry. I can't help it." He shrugged.

"When Eryn first learned to shoot, she was a bit younger than miss.. Dulinneth, was it?" He believed that was the name Eryn had said for the younger girl. "I initially agreed to teach her because of the threat from.. yonder," He nodded toward the East, where the Shadow had dwelt for some time. "and the inevitable war approaching us." He mentioned. "A friend pointed out that it would be better if she were prepared, and could defend herself in some small way, from afar, than if she had no idea what to do." He cupped his mug between his palms, warming them. "I preferred the idea of her being able to fight from afar, without the enemy getting close enough to harm her." he mentioned more quietly. "Though, now, she has begun taking up blades as well." He sighed but shook his head, reaching to pet Hattie. He changed topics slightly, to focus on Abrazimir more. "So, your sister has interest in archery, then?"

---

Dulinneth, with Erynneth
Dec 22 - Pelennor/Dairy Farm
New friends

Eryn smiled as she watched Gaer take a few more shots. "You got this." She said encouragingly. The bow was a recurve, and therefore it did have a sharper twang than her father's longbow would have, but at his advice, she had wound small strips of a rabbit pelt around the string, one near the top, and another near the bottom, so that it looked like two small furballs clinging to the bowstring. These served to dampen the noise of the string fairly well, and yet there was still a quiet twang that could not be altogether silenced. This bow, her first bow, was less effectively silenced than her new one, too.

Watching as Gaer's hand jerked slightly, throwing off her shot, Eryn tilted her head thoughtfully. "Remember to stay relaxed, and breathe," She reminded her softly. She frowned thoughtfully at the mention of there being some who would object. "Well..." She hesitated. "I don't mind letting you have this one, but if anyone tells you that you can't keep it, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble. Nor would I want to think of the bow getting thrown out or something," She frowned, then laughed at the joke about her being a bad influence. "Maybe I am," She grinned. "But I blame that on the people who were a 'bad influence' on me, before." She giggled, knowing exactly who those people would be...

"I just had an idea!" Dulinneth spoke up, keeping her exclamation hushed. "I know where there's a bow I might be able to use." She whispered. "The one my brother.. my oldest brother.. first learned with." She hesitated, unsure if anyone at home would object if they knew she took Aearonor's first bow. All of his things were still kept in his room, gathering dust, and no one ever went in there, except Linn on occasion. She had seen it dozens of time, sitting there in its case, but she hadn't ever dared to try and take anything from the room. "If Eryn really doesn't mind letting you keep this one, then we'd both have one." She glanced hopefully at their new friend.

"Not at all!" Eryn assured her, smiling. That was perfect then. They could each have a bow of their own to use and practice with. "Just make sure it isn't too strong for you," She warned. "You don't want to end up injuring yourself, trying to use too strong of a bow. That's something you need to build up to."

"I'll check it," Linn nodded. "I know I heard before that he was a bit younger than I am, now, when he started to learn. So, I think it shouldn't be too much, hopefully." Once Gaer had taken her five shots, Linn took the bow happily and went to the line, picking up an arrow. "Do you think we might be allowed to come back another day to practice with Eryn, before we have to go back home?" She asked Gaer, though she also glanced toward Eryn to check what she might think of that.

Eryn smiled as Linn readied her arrow and began to take her first shot. "I'm here every evening, about this time," She answered. When Linn took her shot, it went a little low. "Make sure you draw back all the way, and 'anchor' your hand to some point. Like your chin, or your jaw, or some people use their nose or ear.. just whatever it is, make sure it's comfortable for you, and that you do the same thing every time. If you're constantly changing how you shoot, your aim is going to constantly change too." She explained.

Linn nodded and tried again, this time making sure she drew the string back all the way. This time, the arrow thudded into the target, though it was near the edge. Linn squealed happily and jumped up and down a couple of times. "I did it!" She cheered, before calming herself. "Let's see if I can do it again!" She tried the next arrow, and it went off to the other side of the target. The last one skimmed just over the top, but it looked like it would have been closer to the center. Linn happily passed the bow to Gaer again, quite pleased with her success. "Oh, but let's not forget Eryn. You take a turn!" She insisted.

Eryn smiled, taking her own bow in hand. "I'm not as good as my dad, of course, but, I'm trying to get there." She shrugged and stepped up. She usually shot from further away than this, so this would be much easier for her. She took her five shots one after the other, taking barely a pause in between, since she was trying to get to the point of being able to aim instinctively, like her dad did. Her arrows were clustered satisfactorily close together, but not in the exact center of the target. She smiled. "Alright. Shall we retrieve our arrows and start again?"

---

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

Things happened very fast. Andy probably would have managed to maintain his footing, if not for a patch of ice that he slipped on when his guy turned on him. He hit the ground and briefly, had the air knocked out, as the guy jammed his knee into his chest. Fortunately for him, the guard armor he was wearing had protected him from getting hurt from the fall, but he was still stunned, although only very briefly. He did not know what else was going on, for a moment, and was for the moment, solely focused on regaining his grip on the guy and getting him pinned, but alas, he had not had any practice at this sort of thing in far too long.

“Freeze or die!”

The words were sharp, and were backed up with an even sharper sword point, which was thankfully not pointed at Andy. However, it was pointed at the man who was on top of him, so he was glad that he heard her words and saw the sword, for he otherwise might have pushed the fellow off of him and right into the sword. He did not want to hurt the man, after all, if it could be helped. Instead of continuing to try to pin the guy, Andy went still and let him make his own choice, while mentally praying he did not choose to die, for he would not like to have bloodshed, if it were possible to avoid it. Especially with the guy sitting on top of him.


The guy tensed and turned his head, enough to see the sword pointed at his neck. For a moment, he looked as if he was considering whether he could overpower her, maybe get the sword away from her. But then he changed his mind and reluctantly raised his hands, scowling. "Drornan ain't gonna like this." He muttered. Though he had surrendered, (for now, at least) he was still pinning Andy on the ground, having his weight resting on the other's chest. This guy did not share the same accent, nor looks, as the one struggling with Macardil, however.


The second guy, with darker hair and eyes than his companion, yet fair enough skin to not stand out in Gondor, had his hopes dashed when his foe reacted faster than he had anticipated. Before he knew what happened, he was forcibly doubled over, with his arm pinned straight out at an awkward angle, the knife now controlled by the enemy he had meant to slay with it*. Growling in frustration, the guard, now having revealed that he was Umbarian, could do nothing but attempt to cast a dark glare at his foe. This was not how he had imagined his day going when he got up this morning!


*as discussed with Macardil's writer

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

Abrazimir could comprehend the other man’s worry about his daughter going into that sort of work. But perhaps, hopefully, with the need for war and conflict now becoming less of a pressing need, there might not be such a large demand and requirement for so many warriors. A safer path might seem more likely. Or the role of warriors whether they be mariners or rangers might simply become ceremonial in these days of peace. Maybe it wouldn’t come to danger and risk with his daughter becoming a Ranger in the near-future. It wouldn’t be so down to the wire, the final defeat and annihilation that had plagued their generation and those before.

He nodded to confirm Duinion had pronounced young Lady Talven’s name correctly. Teaching Eryn had been a necessity with the closeness of the danger. His sister Azraindil and her friend Dulinneth had been spared even that, but even with the threat abated, they still wanted to learn. Just in case. ”It takes a special kind of case to want to get up close and personal with the servants of evil. Nut cases, more like.” He joked at first, being one of those cases, who made his profession of engaging face to face with the enemy. ”Further from the enemy is safest, especially for the inexperienced and the innocent. A combat with an orc is not something you readily forget. Every bit of preparation can make all the difference.” He spoke from his own experience. He still remembered his first fight, and slaying, of an orc. It had been a most vicious struggle. And that was just against one.

He looked towards where the girls and their ruckus was coming from, pondering where this interest in archery came from. He shrugged and sipped his tea. ”My sister has always had an…active imagination.” He gave a little laugh. He was almost jealous, never having that kind of freedom to explore other activities besides the defense of the realm. ”I imagine she would have an interest in literally every activity known to man, if it’s shown to her. I suppose archery is healthier than some other hobbies one might pick up at that age. And it’s something she can do with her friends. It’s kind of you to let them expel their excess energies here, under safety and a watchful eye, then somewhere out there, I suppose.” Abrazimir expressed his gratitude towards Duinion again for hosting them.

---

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

She giggled lightheartedly when Eryn joined in the joking about her potentially being a bad influence on the noblewomen. It was not meant seriously but it was good to see they all had a relatively easy view on things. Not like Gaer was planning to do anything drastic or intense, even if she became a master archer tomorrow. More like ten or twenty years from now to reach that stage, if ever.

Though, as Linny chimed in about a potential bow in her arsenal, and cited it once belonged to…her oldest brother, Gaer felt a dark cloud beginning to return again. She continued to wear her smile and stood by as Linny was positioned to shoot, but deep within she was plagued by the pang of sad memories, of what was, and what could have been. That poor boy, with what tragedy befell him, just as she was starting to get to know him. And then the other one, with his sad state of affairs going on. It seemed like such a distant and strange thing to her in the past. But as she grew to the maturity of young adulthood, Gaer was starting to reflect on these things more. And how life altering they could have been for her, had things gone otherwise.

She realized quickly she was wandering in her mind and snapped back to the present, blinking rapidly and finding Eryn and Linny in a conversation about possessing a bow each. ”I’m happy to pay you too for it, if even a loan price, and not a full on acquisition.” Gaer offered quickly, to make it seem like she had been paying attention and not off in her head about…other things. She especially didn’t want to draw Linny’s mood towards all that, focusing now on her shooting, asking if they might have time for another session with Eryn before the long voyage home.

”Umm,” Gaer mused, wishing she paid more attention to her parent’s talk and all the itineraries they planned for each day here, ”I think maybe one more? After the ballet.” She answered but she wasn’t too sure on that. Evening time was the most difficult for them, since being young ladies of noble houses, they were expected to adhere to reasonable curfews, even with a chaperone. And Abrazimir might not be available to chaperone them again. And they weren’t going to ask Linny’s brother to step up.

Linny made her five shots, her first hitting low, but Gaer still applauding the determined effort all the same. Her next one, she hit the target and Gaer despite being older still bounced in place, clapping her gloved hands. ”Well done!” She cheered Linny and even did one of those mock bow and salutes that a stage performer would do, twirling her hand above her head and then extending it out to Linny as a gesture of respect and appreciation. Yes, it felt good to just be silly and unwind a little. Her next shots were just as valiant in effort and soon the bow was passed back, this time Linny gesturing for Eryn to have a try.

”Yes, show us how a master does it.” Gaer also encouraged, with Eryn of course being all humble and modest. Gaer wanted to tease the other girl by calling out her bluff but as Eryn got into position, she stayed silent instead. Eryn was so much more masterful than they were, firing five in rapid succession, and not the arduous drawing and aiming process the noblewomen had. All her arrows struck the target, all in the same place, and Gaer…well, her mouth was agape in total astonishment and surprise. She had to grab Linny’s arm, that had been so…decisive and formidable.

”By the Valar,” Gaer said, rarely pious but that had been so remarkable to witness. ”You must have some elf-blood up your line somewhere.” She joked and complimented, walking with the others to retrieve their arrows, those that hit the target and those that went flying far beyond. There should be fifteen, right? All the arrows were claimed and they returned to their shooting line.

”Can I try while wearing the quiver?” Gaer asked, having seen archers who could shoot just as masterfully while bogged down or impeded by the weight of the quiver and all. Some wore it on their backs, others at their hips. To a trained warrior, the weight was negligible but for Gaer it was rather hefty. ”Okay, never mind, I’m not as strong as I think I am.” She chuckled at herself and did not stick with that. She took her practice bow and walked to the line and tried to remember all that Eryn had taught.

But whereas she started the day strong, it was not something she was about to repeat with the successful hits, which may have been beginner’s luck or not. She only deteriorated, perhaps the day’s fatigue catching up with her, and her arms growing sore from the exertion of the previous bow. None of her next five shots hit the target. The first three fell short, right at the base of the target, while her final two overshot it completely, Gaer struggling to find that center zone between the two. Still, her mood was not lessened and she did a mock curtsey at the end of her shots and stood aside to let Linny try again.

It was growing late. ”What do you think the boys are talking about?” Gaer mused as a way of conversation. And yes she referred to Abrazimir and Duinion as boys. The males. The menfolk. Segregated upbringing made it sometimes seem like the men were having much more interesting things going on. ”I am trying to think of a way we might smuggle the bows home without arousing suspicion. Perhaps among our dresses? Or should I just walk into dinner with my parents, wearing the bow and quiver on my back, and just accept the storm that comes next?” She mused in a dry, morbid fashion to Linny. What would her parents say? What would Gaer’s say? The looks on their faces might make it all worthwhile though.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Duinion

Duinion laughed at Abrazimir's comment. "I know a few like that," he grinned. Kaylin, for one, was very much into 'up close and personal' with her fighting style. He nodded then at the mention of it being safest to keep far away. "I was very young when I joined the rangers, and being able to stay far away from the 'scary monsters' was a contributing factor in my choice in the bow as a primary weapon," He admitted. "Of course, not the only one, but as time went on, it wasn't so much about being able to keep my distance for my own sake, as simply the fact that I find it more effective to be able to kill more orcs that way." he shrugged. "A whole group of orcs might be stopped by a single, skilled archer, whereas a group of men armed with melee weapons can too easily be overcome by the same orcs." He had been in situations like that, personally, and could speak from his own experience. But he would rather not get into that topic.

Instead, he listened with a little smile as Abrazimir spoke of his sister having an active imagination. "It seems that she wants to go beyond imagining, to doing." Duinion commented with a nod toward the practice of archery. "I don't mind them practicing here." He assured him, smiling. "In fact, I sometimes have a few trainees out here to practice, even though there is a training ground that they can use." He sipped his tea. "Eryn has helped with teaching those trainees archery, too. She knows what she's doing, so you needn't worry about that." He paused, looking over at the girls. "I'm glad she is finally starting to make a few friends who are not rangers, to be honest."

---

Dulinneth, with Erynneth
Dec 22 - Pelennor/Dairy Farm
New friends

Eryn glanced at Gaer, surprised by the offer to pay for the bow. "There's no need for that. I was offering it, since it will be a few years until my cousin, Berion, is old enough to use that one." She told her, then thought for a moment. "Although, if you would like one made personally for you, my father happens to be very good at that sort of thing." She mentioned thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how much he would charge for that, though... he's been selling arrows at this place in town, but not bows." She shrugged. "If you're interested, you could ask him?" Knowing that her father was trying to save up money for something, and still needed a lot, she figured every little bit he could earn would help. Then, if Gaer felt uncomfortable keeping the bow that Eryn was offering to her, then she could send it back once she got her own.

One more day, Gaer thought. Linn nodded, hoping they could actually come and practice again. This was fun! She watched, impressed, while Eryn shot her arrows, grinning at Gaer calling her a 'master'. "Wow, you may not be as good as you say your father is, but you're very good!" Linn declared. She wondered if she might even be better at it than Togg, but Linn had not had very much chance to see him shoot, nor Eryn. It would be funny if they were to compete, and she beat Togg. The look on his face would be satisfying enough to be worth putting up with him for a while, she thought.

Eryn felt a little blush at their praise. "It wasn't that good," She insisted. "I was trying for the center of the target... and my grouping could be tighter together." She grinned. "You should see Dad shoot, if you think that's impressive." She added. "He can put the arrows exactly where he wants them, just about every time." She said proudly. "I've seen him actually make smiley faces with the arrows sticking out of the target," She giggled at the memory.

As for the elf blood comment, Eryn made no reply, and they went to retrieve their arrows. "Don't forget the ones you both shot, before the five." She reminded them. Once all the arrows had been located and retrieved, they returned to the shooting line. Eryn was a little surprised when Gaer asked to try wearing her quiver. "Sure." She had a leather one that she wore at her back, held on by a strap that went over one shoulder. She helped Gaer put it on, but then took it back with a little smile when Gaer decided it was too heavy for her. She didn't really see where it was all that heavy, really. Nowhere near as heavy as a pack that she might wear if she was going off into the woods or something. But she didn't comment.

After a few rounds of shooting, it seemed as if her friends were tiring. And it was understandable, for they were not used to it. "Oh, probably war and fighting stuff." Eryn shrugged, taking a guess since they were both into that topic. "It's probably almost dinner time, maybe we should go get cleaned up? And we can find out what they're talking about." She grinned.

Linn laughed a little at the image of Gaer walking into dinner with a bow and quiver and announcing her new hobby to her parents. "I don't think that'd be smart," She told her regretfully. "They might take it away, and then you couldn't practice at all." She said, frowning.

Eryn looked thoughtfully at Gaer and Linn, then turned to Gaer. "Well... would your brother help?" She asked. "If he would not object, perhaps he could keep it in with his things? Oh.." She added. "I should show you how to string and un-string it." She realized. She took the bow that they had been using, and showed them how to carefully remove one end of the string. Then, how to put it back. "Some people do a thing where they step through and use their hip to help bend it, but after a long time of doing that repeatedly, that can somehow cause the bow to end up warping and then it doesn't shoot straight." She explained. "So, I recommend doing it this way, even though it's a bit harder." After going through this with them both a few times, she offered the bow to them. It was a recurve, and a smaller one. Even unstrung, it wasn't as tall as Linn, and therefore would be easier to hide than Duinion's longbow, for instance.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Once Macardil was certain the guard in his grip was not going anywhere, the Umbarian's knife now in Macardil's hand, and once the guard pinning down 'Andy' had seemingly surrendered to Ziran's blade, the lord let out a long breath. "Alright," he said calmly, and just loud enough for the others to hear. "Sergeant. Our coachman can retrieve some rope. If you would, please?" he inquired of Bays. "I believe it is time to restrain your fellows."

Macardil tucked the knife in the back of his belt. Out of the way. "I would be careful," he told the other guard, who was still sitting on Andy. "My wife is not as patient as I." One corner of his mouth lifted with a hint of amusement, while he lowered his voice to speak to the one he was holding until the Sergeant returned with the rope. "You are lucky you did not try this on her."

"Then I suggest we put these two in the wagon. And approach the first gate as we were. With Sergeant Bays holding onto you, Andy." That would at least give the impression that the Sergeant had captured their run-away. And might be a confusing enough sight for the gatekeeper not to sound some sort of alarm before they could subdue him.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Once the two men had ceased their struggles, Ziran could see the moment of internal debate while the guard eyed the sword that she had placed just under the curve of his jaw. Why men always thought that it was even an option was beyond her, as she had every advantage of height and skill behind her. Wisely, rather than testing the speed of her reflexes and her restraint, the man scowled and raised his hands away from Andy. She could tell by her peripheral vision that Macardil had subdued his attacker, and felt a wave of relief under the blaze of her anger, but didn’t let any hint of it cross her face.
“Who is Drornan that I should care what he likes or dislikes? Get up! Slowly.” She added the last as a warning with a nudge while maintaining a light but persistent pressure under his jaw with the tip of her sword to remind him she wasn’t afraid to use the edge that grazed his skin. “My husband speaks the truth.” Her hand was steady, and she didn’t shift her gaze from his face.

Their coachman had been dutifully staying at his station on the driving seat, holding the horses of the carriage steady through all the carrying on and confusion, with a watchful eye and listening ear for direction. Hearing Macardil’s mention of rope, he looped the reins over his arm and retrieved a good length of the sturdy light rope he kept for emergency harness repair from a leather pouch under his seat and held it in readiness to toss down to the sergeant when he came close.

Ziran agreed quietly with Macardil’s proposed plan to the group, listening to him lay it out. It would give them the best chance of using subterfuge and distraction rather than overt violence to enter. It would also require the guards to make no noise, but she wasn’t going to mention gagging them until they were securely bound.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

At Macardil's comment, the guy sitting on Andy frowned, first toward Macardil, then Karis. Slowly, he stood up, according to her demand. But when asked who Drornan was, he smirked. "He's the fellow in charge, aside from the Lord, who ain't here." He still eyed the sword but decided he didn't like how close to his jaw it was, and Macardil's words made him a bit more cautious.

Once the guy, whom Bays called Grorn, had gotten off of him, Andy took a moment to locate the key that had fallen onto the road when he was knocked down. Then, he got to his feet with a little nod of gratitude to the lady. "Thank you," He said quietly. If he'd had to, he probably could've fought the guy off of him, but he'd already had to fight his way out of the castle and was weary of having to fight them. Hearing lord Himhathol's plan, Andy gave a little nod to show his acceptance of it. That did sound like a good plan. But, hearing the emphasis that he put on his own name, he let his gaze linger a moment longer on the other man, wondering what that meant. He had a guess that the lord suspected that Andy was not his name. Well, technically, it was sort of was, at least part of his name. Close enough, anyway. He made no comment, but nodded in reply to the plan. Yet, he hoped he would not have to be bound in order to convince the other guards.

Bays gave his own answer to the question of Drornan as he went to get rope from the driver. "Drornan is another one of the guards. I'm officially supposed to be his superior, but he always seems to think it's the other way around." He said with a frown, while he looked from one fellow to the other, debating which to tie first, and finally went with the one held at Karis' sword point, since the other was at least restrained. "He and Grorn here, and a handful of others, arrived together a couple of years ago, hired by Lord Ansellidus to fill the position of castle guards." He sighed while tying the Grorn's hands behind his back. "They seem to follow Drornan's orders, more than they do mine."

Andy waited while Sergeant Bays tied the first guy, then went to tie the other. He frowned as he looked at the fellow, recalling the lady saying that the man was Umbarian, and yet the guy did not look obviously like he had come from that place. He would not have guessed it, himself, but then he had rarely seen any of those people. "How is it my brother has an Umbarian in his employ, sergeant?" He asked, frowning, and thought of that name he'd heard while exploring the dungeon, before.

Bays hesitated. "I did not know they were Umbarians," He admitted. "But Hukrim," He nodded to the guy he was tying now, "and a few others, they came in a bit before the others. They all arrived by ship one day, along with Lord Ansellidus, when he returned from one of his voyages." He explained. "He said that they'd all recently lost their previous jobs and that he'd hired them, as he was in need of guards for the castle." He frowned. "I have no idea why the lord would be going there, though." He said in puzzlement.

Andy brought his hands up to cover his face, trying not to sigh in frustration at this news. What had his brother gotten into? He breathed out slowly and lowered his hands, wondering how he was going to go about locating him. Then, he looked around and saw that Bays had finished securing both of the guards. "I am ready, whenever the rest of you are." He said quietly, taking a deep breath. "I will try to look as if I have surrendered." He did not really want to be tied, even if it was only a false pretense.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Pelennor Fields, Gondor

A late dinner sounded nice. It had been quite a fancy day for meals, first eating on the battlements, then here with Eryn’s family. Every time with new friends. It truly was a wonderful day but unfortunately, daylight had run out, and night was now in full. Time to rejoin the boys. War and fighting, Gaer had heard enough of. After the glorious victory during the War of the Ring, it’s all anyone could talk about. And for someone who never participated, it seemed so overexaggerated and dull.

Gaer had joked about boldly going with a new bow and quiver to her parents. They would think she had gone mad and seized it from her. They already had one troublemaker in Abrazimir, with what he almost caused in Pelargir with his unbridled weapon usage. They certainly did not need another. But…could Abrazimir help in getting a bow home? Once at home, Gaer had her own hiding spots and places she could practice in secret. Not along the Sea-Walls anymore but perhaps further inland, in the forests. Eryn had a point and Gaer needed a moment to ponder it in full.

”That…could work.” Gaer said and stood by as Eryn quickly showed them to how to remove the string and put it back on. It was not a very complicated process and Gaer soon had it committed to memory, more than the posturing of shooting. Then she got to try. ”Your father would be okay with us having it?” She inquired of Eryn, as she practiced with slow deliberation the stringing of the bow, doing it exactly as Eryn had done. ”Also…can we leave them here while we have dinner? I need to ask and clear it with my brother first.” She asked, a small thing she hoped, as she didn’t want to approach her brother and then get rejected.

Once she was done stringing and unstringing, she let Linny try and when Linny had it down pat, the three girls could finally make their way up to where the menfolk were seated, Abrazimir and Duinion, along with Hattie, around the fire. They were just finishing up their conversation as well and it was exactly as Eryn predicted. About war and fighting. ”…if one does intend to pick up that profession, they do need all the training they can get, day and night.” Abrazimir was agreeing to something Duinion had said, about practicing as much as possible. ”Best way to learn too is to teach others. Makes me think about picking up my own squire one of these days.” He nodded and sipped his tea, eyes peering over the rim as the trio of girls came into their presence.

They were done practicing and it was time for dinner! And after that it was definitely home time. Before they went in, Gaer pulled Abrazimir aside and told him about the bows and her desire to acquire one and take it home. Despite their parents obvious objections. Abrazimir was uneasy, but he consented, and would permit the bow to be smuggled among his things. It would arouse less suspicion, for a Captain of mariners, to possess bows, as ship-to-ship warfare involved the exchange of projectiles and missiles. The bow was a tad bit small, he would say it was for one of the younger, shorter men in his crew. And purchased at a great price.

And with that settled, they could enter the home and have a wonderful dinner with Eryn and her family. Getting home afterwards seemed a tremendous chore then, being so full and satisfied, but Abrazimir roused them an hour after dinner was served to finally take their leave and thank their gracious hosts with bows and polite words. Then they could get out to the Pelennor and make their way along the lamp illuminated roads to their own rented estate.

Father and mother of course had questions for why they were so late but Abrazimir, who was much more trustworthy as a responsible individual, talked them through the day’s events and where they had been. Touring, shopping, and visiting old friends. Once again, the good brother, he lied and explained Duinion was an old friend from the War and he had taken the girls there to visit with their family, rather than the two meeting strange girls on the streets and going to their houses off barely knowing one another. He was smart like that. The girls would definitely have gotten themselves in trouble had they been allowed to tell their truths.

Now, be quiet and get in bed.

Tomorrow was another day, with promise as being as exciting as this day had been. Linny had been given permission to sleep over with the Dimaethors. Not an uncommon occurrence. In the morning, after a heartily breakfast they could dress and be off. It was another pleasant December day, that despite the snow, there was no wind, and no clouds either, allowing the Sun to smile down brightly on the City of the Men of Gondor and it’s surroundings. Abrazimir once again played chaperone and they were going to spend another morning and perhaps the noon in the City again, there being so much to see! Before they took Linny back to her own family.

Exit to Minas Tirith Streets and Levels

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

He did not much care to know about this Drornan individual. Drornan could be whoever he liked - be he a proper guard, a sellsword, a lord, a Gondorian, an Umbarian, or whatever else - he was certainly not about to keep Macardil from reaching Halberion. Or at least, that was the lord's thinking on the matter. Who was in charge, made no difference. It was unfortunate, of course, that the Sergeant who saw reason and was willing to help them, would not be able to order compliance from the others. However, they would find solutions as they proceeded. They must.

Macardil was the one to put first Grorn, then Hukrim, into the wagon. He tied them to the seats, so the idea of attempting to break out of the wagon at the most inopportune of timings, would not be able to avail them, even if it were to reach their minds. If they said anything, he ignored it completely, his expression mostly unimpressed. All he did say to them, once they were secured inside of the wagon, was this: "Should we gag you, or render the two of you unconscious?" Macardil glanced behind him, toward ZIran and Andy. "Both, perhaps?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

While Grorn merely glared sullenly while he was bound to the seat, Hukrim muttered in annoyance under his breath. Macardil's question, however, made both tense a bit. "You wouldn't hit a man who's bound..?" Grorn protested hopefully.

"Yeah.. you won't hit a man who can't defend himself." Hukrim sneered. "You Tarks and your 'honor' and 'noble ways', and all that junk." He looked smug, confident that they needn't worry about the man carrying out that threat.


Somewhat relieved to have his pursuers bound where they could no longer threaten to lock him up again, and there they should not be able to cause trouble, Andy waited quietly while Lord Himhathol secured the men into the carriage. He frowned slightly at the Umbarian's comment, then glanced at Macardil. Would he actually do that?

When Macardil glanced back at him and the lady, Andy hesitated, inwardly debating if the 'both' question had been aimed solely at Lady Himhathol, or if his own opinion were being asked as well. After a second, he decided on the latter, and spoke in a quiet tone. "I agree that to hit them, whilst they are bound, would be a bit.. excessive," He began hesitantly. "However, I feel that these two may attempt to cause trouble if they are awake. Even gagged, a person may make enough noise to draw attention." He added, frowning a little. "If the guards at the gates are much like them, they will not want to cooperate, and would surely prove allies to those two. Personally, I would prefer to avoid any violence, nor bring any harm to any of these men, if we can avoid it." He added, hoping the other two agreed. And if they were to avoid such a thing, it would help to not give these two any chance to stir up a hornet's nest.

Andy hesitated before going on. "That being said, there are ways to render a person unconscious, that do not require a blow at all." He mentioned. He looked at the ground for a moment, thinking. "Some years ago, a friend of mine showed me a few such techniques, but... I don't know if I still remember how to apply it." He admitted, glancing up. "Perhaps you know of something of the sort, lord?" He asked, hopeful.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

It was good that the man did not resist her directions and got up slowly, so that Ziran could maintain consistent pressure under the edge of his jaw by just changing the angle of her wrist to a stronger position. His actions would determine whether his skin remained unblemished or marred by the slice of her blade so close to his jugular as to cause terror in a sane man’s heart. She nodded acknowledgement of Andy’s thanks, but didn’t move her gaze from the man at the end of her blade until rope had been retrieved and wrists bound by Sergeant Bays. Hearing that the name Drornan belonged to the one really in charge while the Lord of the castle was away was useful information, although it seemed to give the guard an inordinate amount of pleasure to mention it. Lifting her sword away once the guard was secured, Ziran rested it across her lap as she straightened in the saddle, and let her arm muscles relax and recover inconspicuously.


Ziran’s eyebrows drew together in a frown of concern when she processed the Sergeant’s explanation of how the Umbarian guards had actually arrived before the others, and after a voyage. That didn’t sound right to her, adding to tilting the scales even further into the territory of something being truly wrong with the Lord here, Andy’s brother. This area was much closer to the heart of Gondor than she had been when captured by those friendly to Umbar many years ago, and even closer than the bandits the others had dealt with just over a month ago in the northern vales that fed the Gilrain. She couldn’t think of any good reason for a man of Ansellidus’ status to be going to Umbar to hire men, and plenty of bad ones. She shut down that train of thought before it led to far down rabbit trails of unknowns. They needed to gather facts, not suppositions. Conclusions could be reached when they had all the pieces of the puzzle.


Watching as Macardil took charge of the bound men and didn’t brook any resistance when muscling them into the carriage and then securing them to the relatively comfortable bench seat despite their mutterings, a small smile finally eased her earlier frown away. Sheathing her sword in its scabbard, she gathered the reins in her left hand and dismounted, leading her mare a few paces so as to stretch her legs. That many hours in the saddle had left her slightly stiff, and she wanted to loosen up before they got to the castle. She heard Macardil’s question and Andy’s rather long response that included ways to knock the men unconscious as she paced up and down with the horse once before halting and replying. “Gag them, certainly, but the carriage is padded and worth the expense. I don’t think it is necessary to give them a blow to the head except as a last resort.” She ran the reins through her hands. “We have enough rope to bind their feet to keep from kicking, and once the doors are closed they will not be visible with the drapes drawn as they are.” Amusement lightly laced her words, just enough for Macardil to recognize it. “I am happy to lend my blade as an incentive for them to not kick you in the teeth while being bound.”

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Macardil offered no response when the bound guards delivered their protest, calling upon his 'honor' while also trying to warp it into an insult, somehow. A very peculiar thing to do, in his mind - but strangely, not uncommon with such types.

He was rather interested in Andy's response. At first, it seemed like his answer would be neither here nor there. Then the man offered up something along the lines of what Macardil would have chosen to employ himself. That... was unexpected. Most people did not think about that sort of thing.

Ziran's response caused a grin to flicker across his features. "Very kind of you, my Lady," he replied, taking the time to walk over to her and briefly touch her waist on the side she had turned toward the horse. "I will bind their feet," he agreed. "Perhaps you should be the one to gage them, however. I do enjoy it when you leave other men speechless," he told her for her ears alone as he leaned toward her a little bit. Soon enough, he returned to the wagon and shifted his attention to Andy. "There is one very easy way to render them both unconscious. Without a need for violence. However, it is more difficult to apply now they are already bound to the inside of the wagon," he told the man pensively.

They started with binding their feet and gagging them, at least. Macardil was not fully at ease with them still being awake, though. They had disliked the idea of being unconscious too much. If he were being honest, he was expecting some kind of ruckus from them, once they approached the castle. "One moment," he requested, before he stepped into the wagon. "I only need one minute," he promised, to Ziran more than anyone else. His eyes met hers, wordlessly asking her to trust him. He closed the door to the wagon.

About 20 seconds later, there seemed to be a small commotion inside of the wagon. Another twenty-something seconds after that, however, the door opened again and Macardil stepped out. Behind him, both guards seemed fast asleep. He closed the door. "We may venture onward," he stated, returning to Nightshade. "Ready, Sergeant? And.. Andy?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

On the road and then bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

After having spoken his own thoughts about the matter, Andy listened in silence while Lady Himhathol spoke her own, which contradicted his own opinion. Still, mentally, he held to his own opinion. Especially now that he knew where at least one of those men hailed. He still wondered about that, but he decided to worry about that later. Once he had recovered his sack full of things - which he regretted having dropped - he would have his new journal back. Later, he could write that information down in there, and try to make sense of it later.

For now, they still had to get back in the castle... and in such a way that they would be able to get back out, later. Andy remained quiet during the interaction between the couple. Though he couldn't hear everything that was said between them, it was clear that there was love and respect there between them.. nothing at all like the way his own parents had been with each other. Therefore, he fully expected Lord Himhathol to take his wife's suggestion concerning whether to knock the men out or not, so when he did not, the young guard was rather surprised.

Soon, it seemed that they were ready to proceed. Again, the way the lord paused before asking if he was ready, made Andy pause and give him a glance. But he took a slow breath, bracing himself for the possibility that he might be walking right back into the trap he had just escaped from. He didn't want to go back in there, and the thought of possibly getting locked up in there again made his pulse race. Even though his prison had been comfortable, and he'd had regular meals, he had begun to think he might go nuts if he had to go much longer without anyone to talk to. If he got trapped in there again, he might never be able to get back out, for he was pretty sure that he had exhausted all options he was going to get for escape.

Still, thinking of how his prison had been reminded him of the prisoner who was worse off than him. The one he had vowed to do whatever he could to help. Taking another slow breath to push down his anxiety, Andy gave a little nod. "I'm ready." He answered quietly. He'd been trapped for months, but the other had been locked away for years.. and he had been treated cruelly, while Andy had not. He would brave the castle once again for his sake.

Sergeant Bays took his arm and held it loosely behind his back, as if he had captured the escaped prisoner, but not so as to hurt him. He looked at the Himhathol couple again. "The fellow working the first gate that we'll come to, he's one of them that came back with the lord, from that voyage." He warned them. "Hankins is one of those that came with Drornan's group, he's on the inner gate."

With all of that done, they started off toward the gate at last. Bays led the way with his 'prisoner' in tow. He figured it would be better if he was in front, so he could announce the arrival of the guests and, hopefully, to convince the other guards to open the gate for them.

When they reached the wrought iron gate barring the way across the bridge, another guard came out of the small gatehouse and frowned through the bars, first at the 'prisoner', then he looked past them to the others. "What is this?" He asked the sergeant, frowning.

"Open up," Bays ordered. "I need to get this prisoner back where he belongs. And Lord Ansellidus has guests," He added. "Arrived sooner than expected."

Andy kept his head down, looking defeated and downcast.

The guard looked for a moment at him, then at the others, and back to Bays. "He's got my key, remember?"

"And you've got mine, remember?" Bays scowled. "Open up, or I'll write you up. If this guy escapes again, it'll be your fault. Besides, we don't want to keep our guests waiting in the cold. I'm sure Lord Ansellidus would want to know that Lord and Lady Himhathol were treated with all possible courtesy and respect."

The guard gave a quiet snort as if he found that funny, but he went into the gatehouse for a moment and returned with a key. He unlocked the gate and pulled it open wide enough for the carriage and horses to pass through, though he gave 'Andy' a dark look as he passed near him. "Need some restraints, Serg?" The man asked, noticing that he had him only with an arm twisted up behind his back slightly.

"No.. I don't think that will be necessary, he's given his word that he won't attempt another escape." Bays answered while giving Andy a hard look, for show. Then, the sergeant glanced toward Macardil for guidance on what to do now, since the plan past this point had not really been discussed. What were they to do with this guard? Leave him on post? Or have him join the first two?

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Ziran grinned at Macardil’s quiet quip and shook her head in amusement, but she readily followed him to the carriage and was not at all averse to gagging both men with simple but secure gags made out of handkerchiefs. They exited the carriage, but after a brief pause Macardil turned back to open the door once more. When her husband asked for a minute before stepping back through the opening, Ziran nodded silently as she met his gaze, and took a step away as he closed the door. She didn’t feel the need to ask exactly what he was going to do, having a sense as to his intent, and she trusted his judgement.
She noted, but ignored, the brief commotion. Her dark eyes scanned Macardil first when he stepped out again, and smiled when she saw him unharmed. Ziran noticed the apparent sleep of the incapacitated guards, but didn’t comment on them as she returned to her bay and mounted once more. Tapping her heel against the horse’s side as she lifted the reins and laid them over slightly, they moved back to their previous station to the right side of the road and a length ahead of the carriage. It was good that the way was longer than it was steep, or the walkers would have had to exert themselves greatly to maintain pace ahead of the horses once they set out. Andy seemed to need to summon the strength or fortitude to face the journey back before he assented that he was ready to begin again.

Ziran found it curious to see the wrought iron gates once they came into view, and she studied them with unconcealed wonder, dropping the wariness from her expression. Internally she marveled that such an ornamental rather than practical gate was used as the first defense of a castle, while outwardly she appeared to be admiring the fine craftsmanship. It would serve wonderfully for a decorative location, but could be shot through or climbed with sufficient incentive. In an aside to Macardil as the Sergeant was speaking with the gate warden, she commented in a way that seemed quiet but carried. “I say, M’Lord Husband, I have never seen such intricate gates. Is this the fashion of the Prince’s high lords? Perhaps we should inquire where Lord Ansellidus had them forged?” Her demeanor and posture had softened in the space between their previous confrontation and the bridge, belying to any observer the likelihood that she knew more than a rudimentary use of the weapons that adorned her saddle. It stood to reason that she would also defer speech except with her equals as she swept her gaze over the guard’s head once again to examine and hum over the gate as it was swung wide for their passage. Was the next the same or more practical in its design? Could she see the next guard or was he hidden from view? In her mind that would determine much of their immediate strategy.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

The Sergeant and Andy went in first. Macardil looked over his shoulder toward the wagon's driver, and gave him a small nod. At Ziran's question, Macardil found it most difficult not to smile. And after a heartbeat, he decided that smiling might in fact not be out of place at all. And so he did, amusement tugging at his lips as his gaze travelled to his wife. He understood the role she was assuming, which entertained him - but no one else need know that was the reason for her amusement, rather than her so-called lack of knowledge on the matter. "Oh, no, my lady," he replied smoothly. "This is no particular Belfalasian fashion, although I do appreciate the craftsmanship. No doubt, Lord Ansellidus enjoys to impress his guests. While I cannot admit to his success, as of yet, he is off to a good start." Macardil urged Nightshade to pass the gate, making sure that Ziran and her horse were maintaining pace alongside him.

"I do worry, Sergeant," he continued, raising his voice a little, "that your prisoner might break free against his word. I would feel better about my lady wife's safety if you did indeed accept your man's offer to restrain him." Hopefully, Bays and Andy would have the brains about them that Macardil did not mean for Andy to be restrained at all. Rather, he meant for the guard to approach them, so they might restrain the guard, rather than Andy. That only seemed prudent. Did it not?

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

The bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

While the lord and lady spoke about the gate, Andy kept quiet and maintained a look of submissiveness. Though, inwardly, he wasn't really sure what to make of their comments concerning the gate. He did not know either of them very well, so he couldn't really make much of a guess.

When Lord Himhathol called out to the sergeant with concerns about him breaking his word, Andy had to remind himself that it was an act. Even knowing it was all feigned, he had to fight the instinctive worry that sprang to his mind upon hearing the suggestion that he be put into restraints. While he had begun coming to expect trickery from the people in this castle, he reminded himself that Lord Himhathol was a friend of Lord Veranis, and therefore, his interests would lie in rescuing his friend. And 'Andy' was trying to help in achieving the same goal. So, it stood to reason that he was suggesting something else.

While these thoughts were racing through Andy's mind, Bays glanced at the Lord, then gave a little nod. "Very well, m'lord." He agreed, though with a little confusion. The gate guard looked a bit smug as he approached Andy, wrist shackles in hand. He grabbed Andy's free wrist, at the same moment that Andy pulled his right arm from Bay's loose grip. With a quick twist of his left arm, Andy had the guard's arm pinned behind his back and took the restraints from him with his other. While Andy put the restraints on him, Bays took a look down the length of the bridge to make sure that they weren't about to have unwelcome company.

"Shall I have him join his companions?" Andy asked, glancing at Macardil. "Or, perhaps, put all of them in there?" He motioned to the gatehouse, which had a heater inside to ensure whoever was on duty would be able to stay warm during their shift.

"As for the gate, my lady," Bays mentioned, now that he could speak more freely. "It is very old, and mostly for decoration, and was put here long ago, while there were few enemies to worry about in these parts. The real defense is in the bridge itself, for it can be raised if necessary, to keep enemies out, thus making the castle inaccessible except for by the stairs below." He explained. "Let's hope Hankins hasn't noticed anything to cause alarm, for if he should have the bridge raised, and it would be... nearly impossible for us to enter."

"Which group does Hankins fall into?" Andy wondered, after pulling the guard up to his feet, to do with him whatever the lord and lady decided. "The Umbarians, or the other?"

"The other." Bays answered. "That group seems to be of mixed nationalities, mostly from areas in the North, from what I can understand."

"And this fellow?" He indicated the guard he'd just restrained, who was looking around at them in silence, listening and scowling as he understood that he had been fooled.

"Umbar, I think." Bays frowned.

"How many of them are from there?" Andy asked, feeling like that might be good information to know.

Bays hesitated, then took a moment to take count. "There are nine men currently on duty... Him, myself, Hankins, Grorn and Hukrim," He paused, glancing at Andy. "Two were supposed to be guarding you.. and there should be one more patrolman around someplace inside the castle..."

"Ah.. we'll should find him in a closet not far from where you found me wandering around, sergeant. I put him there after I.. borrowed.. his uniform." Andy admitted, with a glance at the clothes and armor that he was wearing.

Bays nodded. "Well, let's hope he's still there. He's one of Drornan's guys." He took another moment to think. "Grorn and Hukrim were posted on patrol duty outside the castle. The other half of the men should be asleep at this time of day. They're scheduled for the night shift, which doesn't begin for a few more hours. Most of them are from the Umbar group." He realized with a frown. "Only three the men are actually local, not counting myself. The rest are either from Umbar or in Drornan's group." He sighed. "They've been gradually being replaced." He realized, not sure how he had not seen that before now. The sergeant shook his head, then looked up at Macardil. "What do you wish us to do from here, sir? Shall we proceed to the main guardhouse?"

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Satisfied that Andy had seemed to grasp his intent, Macardil was all business once the guard at the first gatehouse had been restrained. One step at a time.

"My preference would entail relocating all three to this gatehouse, and securing them inside." His tone and movements spoke of a man experienced with taking command. "Provided, of course, that there is no way for them to signal the second gatehouse." Lord Himhathol looked to Sergeant Bays, waiting for any information on that particular aspect. "If there is a way to signal the other gate from here - can it be disabled or might we otherwise ensure the three guards will not be able to use it?"

"We should also close the gate. Ensure that the key is with us." Obviously. However, it was probably best to mention his thoughts out loud. He had no experience working with this Andy, after all.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

The bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

"I agree," Andy spoke his own opinion about the matter. "If we come across others that need apprehending, it would be preferable not to have a full carriage." At least, while they were still outside. Once they'd moved inside, the carriage would not be much use to them.

"Ah, the signal is easily dealt with." Bays declared in reply to Macardil. There was a bell hung on the corner of the building, with a string that could be pulled, so that various signals could be conveyed across the bridge without the need to shout. He removed the string without much trouble, and then collected his key from the gate keeper who was now bound. "That should do it." He declared.

"I still have the other key," Andy mentioned. "Are there any others?"

"Only Lord Ansellidus' copy," Bays replied, hesitating a little.

"I don't think he means to come back, at least not until he's sure that no one is after him." Andy replied quietly. "If he learns that I have escaped, then he will probably know that I will be searching for him, and I will not be so easily fooled or detained, again." He added with determination, while Bays closed the gate, following Macardil's advice.

He picked up the helmet and sword that he'd lost earlier. They had been brought into the gatehouse after he'd managed to get past the gate. Since he was still playing the role of the recaptured prisoner, he offered them to Bays to carry. He hoped that perhaps, after getting past the second gatehouse, he could don them and pose as a guard, rather than a prisoner. For now, it would look better for the sergeant to have the items, as if he had taken them from him. "I am at your mercy once again, Sergeant." He said quietly.

Bays used the bell to convey the signal that all was well before they started across. The trip across the bridge was uneventful, although those on foot had to be wary of slipping on slippery patches. The bridge could be raised to form a rather solid barrier to prevent anyone from entering if they were not welcome. And, when the bridge was lowered, there was still a large, wooden *door, braced with iron to get past, as well as a portcullis. The latter was up at the moment, though the door was closed.

The gatehouse was at the far end of the drawbridge, just outside the entrance to the castle's courtyard, but off to the side of the door. It was more like a small room built partially into the wall, as a sheltered place for the guards to stand watch. If the first gatekeeper signaled that someone approaching was welcome, then this guard would be ready to open the gate and direct them in. If the signal was otherwise, then he could have the portcullis dropped and be ready to deny entry to whomever was approaching, if they got past the first gate.

Since the signal had been 'all well', Hankins stepped outside to watch them approach. His eyes narrowed slightly at sight of the strangers, but when they drew nearer, he focused his gaze on Andy, looking a bit smug as he saw that the sergeant had apprehended him. "Well, well. Recruit Rollus. Back so soon?" He asked with a little smirk. "Or, should I call you-"

'Andy' caught his breath and tensed slightly in alarm. That was unexpected, and he wasn't sure how to react. But before he had time to even glance up, Bays abruptly interrupted.

"Hankins, do you have some wrist restraints I can use on him?" He asked, hoping to pull off the same trick again.

"Sure," He grabbed a set of restraints from his belt while he glanced curiously past Bays, at the folks on horses, and the carriage. "Did no one warn these people about the plague?" He asked, frowning. "They shouldn't have been allowed-"

"They are Lord and Lady Himhathol." Bays interrupted him before he could go off on some spiel about the fictional sickness, and quarantine. "They are expected, and are to be treated with upmost courtesy and respect."

Hankins nodded slowly, though he looked a bit skeptical about that. But he didn't argue. "Alright." He shrugged, and moved as if to toss the restraints toward Bays.

"Can't you see my hands are full?" Bays scowled, somewhat glad that was, in fact, the case. "Come over here. I'll hold the prisoner while you put the restraints on him."

Hankins frowned, grumbling slightly under his breath as he moved closer, clearly reluctant to move too far away from his post. "You're too much trouble, you know." He informed the 'prisoner' with a frown as he took hold of his arm.

However, when 'Andy' attempted the same move on him as he had used on the other gatekeeper, Hankins was a bit better prepared for it, being already a bit wary. When he pulled his arm free from Bay's grip and tried to twist Hankins' around on him, he found that he was already expecting some sort of attempt like that. Hankins swiftly tried to turn the tables on him, and then the two were struggling with each other, trying to pin the other and get the restraints on him.

But they only struggled briefly. Hankins was tough and had a reputation as something of a 'fighter' among his peers, but he had never been friends with someone who had taught him clever defensive maneuvers. In a few short moments, 'Andy' had the man pinned on the ground using a move he had once learned from the only friend he'd ever had.

Bays watched until he saw that Hankins was subdued. He paused, then came forward and took the restraints from Hankins, and put them on him. "Now what?" He asked as he stepped back, looking at Lord and Lady Himhathol for further instructions.



*(something similar to this, wide enough for a carriage or wagon to pass through. And with the gatehouse on the side)

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

He thought it was peculiar. Very peculiar - how neither the guard at the first gate, nor this Hankins, had asked about the other two guards who had been chasing after their escaped prisoner alongside the Sergeant. Did they not care what happened to their fellow guards?

When Hankins called Andy 'recruit Rollus', Macardil's expression grew thoughtful. Andy did not sound like a real name to him. Rollus, apparently, was another one that the young man had apparently offered. Andy. Rollus. Why was that tugging at his mind?

The matter was distracting him enough to delay his reaction to Hankins and Andy's brief stuggle. Macardil leaned forward to loosen the axe from where it was strapped to Nightshade, while he was keeping an eye on the two who were interlocked with one another. Interestingly enough, Bays... simply did not involve himself. Macardil's eyes widened minutely when he saw Andy using a rather specific defensive technique, which allowed him to both foil Hankils' attempt to overpower him and to pin him. That technique...

Andy. Rollus. Who had a brother who looked an awful lot like him. Who had just used a technique which Macardil knew all too well himself.

The lord fluidly dismounted from his black mare, his axe in one hand. He took a few steps toward the others, before halting. "Who taught you that?" he demanded of Andy, ignoring Bays' question at present.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

The bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

Sergeant Bays had really expected the second time around to go as smoothly as the first, so when Hankins put up a fight, he had been unsure what to do. He was at a bad angle to try and grab for Hankins, and before he'd had time to see an opening to help Andy, the struggle was over, and Hankins was restrained.

The gate keeper was quite upset with the sergeant for not coming to his aid, but soon he began to realize that he and the sergeant were no longer on the same side. He glared at Bays when he came over and took over from Andy, and began demanding answers.


Having taken a glancing blow to the vicinity of his chin/mouth during the struggle, the escaped prisoner pressed a hand lightly to the place and glanced at it to briefly check if his lip was bleeding as he stepped back after turning Hankins over to Bays. He turned at the question from Macardil, hesitating slightly. Who taught him that move? He looked questioningly at the lord, wondering why it mattered. It didn't escape his notice that the man had a weapon in hand, now. "A friend... why?" He answered slowly, lowering his hand from his face as his gaze traveled up from the ax to his face.

This vague answer did not seem to satisfy Lord Himhathol, however*. When a name was demanded, he let out a sighing breath, a sad look in his eyes. "Reilly." He answered quietly. "Veranis.. The son of the man held captive in there," Andy nodded toward the castle with a solemn expression. "He is my friend." He added, then frowned slightly. "But, that isn't relevant to any of this... is it?" He asked, somewhat uncertain now if he had done wrong by not mentioning this friendship before now.


*as discussed in private chat

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

A friend. Macardil's face remained impassive. "Which friend?" he asked, calmly but with an edge to his tone. "What was his name?" Assuming the answer already, he had used the past tense. Whether that would give anything away to the others, however, was anyone's guess.

The answer came - and even though Macardil had already been assuming what the answer was likely to be, it still came as an invisible blow to the chest. Reilly Veranis. The son of the man still held captive within the castle. Macardil swallowed. Andy. Rollus. Who had a brother who looked just like him. And who had been friends with Reilly Veranis. Macardil knew who this man was, now.

The odds... were... unbelievably small. And yet, here he was.

Another realization came, then, belatedly. The younger man before him could still be two people. Trevadir had told him there had only been one man, but with two faces. Arnyn had told him thatthe likelihood that there were two brothers was very high. So this was either one brother... or the other. And at least one of them was under investigation. It was... an intricate situation.

If anything, however, this situation already proved that there were in fact two brothers. Did it not? Macardil frowned slightly, thinking it over. Meanwhile, the other man's question remained and was only met with a thoughtful silence.

The guards, including Bays, had pretended at first that the young man in front of him was Lord Ansellidus. But later, Bays had dropped that act. All three of the initial guards had. So - whoever one of the two this one was, it was the other brother who had somehow managed to become a lord.

Macardil also realized that 'Andy' had used the present tense while speaking of Reilly.

"It is very relevant," he disagreed, finally starting to answer. "For Reilly Veranis is presumed dead. Missing, at best. And he was to fall under my care, should anything ever happen to Halberion or Amelina. And it appears that it was either you, or your brother, who might be responsible for his disappearance." His voice was calm. Too calm. "How am I to decide which one of the two you might be?" he questioned, tilting his head ever so slightly, a dangerous look in his eyes.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

The bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

His question was met with silence, at first. 'Andy' was confused, unsure what to do, or what was going on with the man before him. His gaze flicked toward the lady, but returned to the lord when he finally answered, that yes, this was very relevant.

He frowned, not sure why his friendship with Reilly should have any bearing on them rescuing his father from the dungeon, nor why Lord Himhathol would feel the need to discuss this now, while lord Veranis was still in need of rescuing. When he brought up that Reilly was presumed dead, Andy swallowed down the pang of sorrow that swelled up. But he said nothing, only taking a slow breath in. Then let it out slowly, as Macardil went on.

But when he heard the man say that it appeared that it was either him, or his brother, who was responsible for Reilly's disappearance, Andy's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" The word burst out before he could think to stop it, and he stared at Macardil. How could anyone think that he was responsible for that!? Or that his brother was, for that matter. His surprise gave way to further confusion as he tried to understand how anyone could come to that conclusion. "No... no, that isn't possible." He frowned, shaking his head, denying the possibility. "I don't know who told you that, but my brother and I both spent a lot of time searching for Reilly, after he disappeared." He frowned, finding this accusation troubling. "He.." He paused as he realized that he had no idea where his brother had been during that time, and so.. he could not supply any alibi for him. But.. he couldn't have been responsible for it. He just couldn't... right? "Mar took up the search in my stead, because I couldn't keep taking days off from my job," he explained, frowning as he tried to convince.. either Macardil, or himself. He wasn't even sure by this point, which he was trying. "He was also a friend of Reilly's." He frowned, growing further troubled by the possibility that had been suggested. "Why do you think that either of us may have been involved?"

And he also found it very disappointing that, apparently, he was going to have to prove himself.. again? Hadn't they already been through this? He sighed, struggled not to let his frustration take over. "I.. don't know how to convince you." He acknowledged, disappointment flooding into his heart. It was the same thing that always happened, wasn't it? And this time, he thought he had actually found someone who believed him. He stared at the ground for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I can only tell you what I know. What happened." He said quietly, looking up again. "Reilly and I were roommates. He was not happy to be sent away, for he had just asked his girlfriend to marry him. I'm certain he didn't just run away." He insisted. "I saw the transfer orders myself, but no one would believe me. And.. I spent a great deal of time in the Linhir area, searching for my friend. I spent my every day off, traveling there when I could, searching the woods, trying to find some sort of clue... for weeks after he disappeared. After I found his horse abandoned out there, I insisted to the captain that something was wrong, and that he was really missing. Between myself, and Reilly's fiancé, we kept pestering the captain and lieutenant until we convince them to contact his family."

He frowned, drawing a shaky breath as he tried to recenter himself. "You say that he is presumed dead," He swallowed with a little difficulty. "But I.. can't accept that. He was my only friend.. ever. And I won't use past tense in referring to him, for I continue to hope, against all odds, that maybe.. he is alive somewhere." He looked down in sorrow. "I've probably lost our apartment by now, but.. until I had to leave town.. I even kept his room just the way he left it, for when he returned."

He looked up at Macardil again, taking a slow breath as he recalled one possible way that he might convince him that he was being truthful. "Lord Veranis believed I was myself, rather than my brother.." He reminded him, with a glimmer of hope that all was not lost. "Else.. he would not have told me the things he told me." He pointed out. Surely, if Lord Himhathol wouldn't believe him on his own merit, he would believe lord Veranis, right? Right? His eyes strayed to the ax in the other man's hand, and he suddenly wondered if he had cause to be nervous.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Lord Himhathol was ready to lose his patience. He could feel it - the warning bells. The way his hand was tightening around the handle of his axe. The way his anger was swelling in his chest. And he knew what a danger anger could be. It was an emotion that blocked reason. Which was why Macardil was so careful with it, whenever he felt its surge.

Nothing of what the young man in front of him was saying, however, held much meaning to him. A decent actor would know how to act surprised, and if this man was responsible for Reilly's disappearance then he would have acted like the best of them, indeed. It also did not help his case that he claimed both himself and his brother had spent a lot of time 'honestly' searching for Reilly. Nor did he like how the young man seemed to question who had told him about this. Someone he put much more faith in, than in a young man he did not know.

He knew what Reilly's roommate had done, or had supposedly done, after Reilly's disappearance. He knew that his roommate had brought back Reilly's horse. But what did that even prove? He had never suspected Androllius, not until Arnyn had spoken with him, sharing some of her findings and thoughts. And even though she had not literally stated that she suspected Androllius, or Androllius' brother, it had been blatantly obvious to Macardil that she did. And Macardil knew that Arnyn was driven by a combination of reason and instinct that he had not seen often.

The only aspect that resonated with him, was what the young man said last. Lord Veranis chose to believe him. That much... was true. Or indeed, Halberion would not have told him what he did. Macardil's eyes sharpened, thinking. This Lord Ansellidus, whether it was Aderic or his brother, however, had clearly been involved with Halberion's capture and imprisonment.

"Do you still believe it is not possible for your brother to have been involved in Reilly's disappearance, even though you know he is involved in Lord Veranis' incarceration? You have not given me much detail - but you did say that the man desperately needs help." His blue eyes darkened dangerously. "Desperately needs help. That you hope it is not too late." Macardil had not verbally reacted to the words - but they had most certainly registered. "If your brother is responsible for that, why would it be so unthinkable he was involved in Reilly's disappearance?" Macardil demanded.

He shook his head curtly, taking a deep breath. "It stands to reason to believe that the brother involved in Halberion's current situation, would also be the one responsible for Reilly's," he said, his voice still tight with restrained emotion. "What am I to call you now, Androllius? Aderic? Or are you the other?"

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 46



Dolûzor Solis*, and Unalmis Raxëlilta.
With Cadil. Riding the Harbour Guard Wagon.
Approaching Harlond. The last day of Autumn (last year)

“You have saved us,” Unalmis grinned, as he leaned forward to accept the offered nail. It was absolutely long enough and strong enough .. a coffin nail for certain. “Wait, no pocket mending kit ?” he marvelled, as Cadil ran through all the non-eatable options which he had brought in his bag. The rope, Nal had known about of course. The fire starting kit .. interesting. But the dagger … So they had both been armed, and still neither had been searched, and yet somehow had been ‘arrested’ under suspicion. Clearly ‘Rip’ didn’t need a reason, although the liar had proposed a good many ridiculous options. That nonsense about aiding and assisting pirates .. ? As if !

“I’m not exactly sure,” Nal admitted though, when his friend asked how Cali’s broach had ended up at the South Gate. “But this is definitely her broach, and that was definitely an Umbarian,” he recalled what pieces of the puzzle he was sure of. No doubt the rest of the puzzle would make sense as it all came together. That was what puzzles did, after all. Noone could tell what the picture was when they only had the border in place. Still, the chance that the broach was simply a bait, and he had just fallen again for a falsehood ? That would be extremely poor judgement. But could they afford to not even find out ? He’d already lost Ryn. There was no way he could let something happen to Cali as well. And they were wary this time. They were trained this time. It would not be the same outcome as last time.


“If we let this ride take us all the way to Harlond before we hop out, we may not have to run at all,” he tried to encourage his friend, who had seemed reluctant though determined all at once. “It will have to slow down once it’s in main streets rather than out on a road like now, and there should be more chance of people about for us to blend in. Running will draw attention. Though it would be foolish to rule it out entirely,” he could not deny.

“See if you can loosen any of those chains,” he suggested then. “We could maybe take them to use as projectiles, or like a flail, if we need to.” The fact that this could be termed vandalism of a harbour guard property was rather beside the point. After the already broken window at the gatehouse, and what Unalmis intended to do to the door of the wagon itself ..


Their ride was certainly more rough than smooth, but he’d played at balance with ease since the days that their group used to dare each other to walk the length of high walls. So reaching the barred door, the fingers of his free hand felt swiftly to be assured of the barrel hinge. There were two, and each of them was made up of two pieces, one attached to the door itself, and the other attached to the frame. A strong pin had been secured through the hollow of both pieces, at both hinges, but the coffin nail was exactly the right size and strength to push that out the top. Then the door would only hang by the lock they could not open on the other side. It might drop, or even drag behind the wagon along the road so he’d have to be ready to catch it, just in case.

It was impossible to tell whether Cadil was having any luck with freeing any of the chains, because the noise was constant. Between the rumble of the old wheels and the swaying of the chains, there was no chance that anybody would hear either of the young men’s exertions. The evening outside was dark enough that hopefully nobody would notice what Nal was doing at the back door of their ride, for the barred door hid his efforts not at all from sight. Thankfully the Harbour Guard* was driving the horses, up front. And thankfully thankfully thankfully … the apparent Sergeant* had elected to keep up the pretence of playing ‘nice’ and not chain them in, as per the transport’s main design. Else they would have had to come up with a whole other idea.


The sight beyond the bars was maddeningly motivating. The young Ranger could feel the fresh air, could see the road falling away like time, and opportunity. Still he could not panic. Seeing it, feeling the outside, it was an absolute game changer from the cloistered gatehouse. Slowly, steadfastly, the nail worked each of the pins out of their respective tiny hinge barrels, and as the second one came free in his hand, like a fish breaking the surface of the sea, Unalmis caught out with his other hand, at the other side of the door, just in case the lock there was not strong enough to keep the door upright now on it’s own. The door swung slowly, satisfyingly outward from the now useless hinge pieces, and he watched the road that sang to his want for freedom. The wagon was slowing down already, not enough to stop, but just enough to signify that they were coming to the port where traffic had to mind out for pedestrians. This was it. He’d managed it just in time.

Managing to sit the coffin nail and both hinge pins into his untorn pocket, Nal glanced back over his shoulder, to see how Cadil had fared, and if he was ready. “It’s time,” he shared, in as loud a whisper as he dared to be heard above the rumble and jangling noise. “You go first, I’ll hold it,” he proposed, and indicated with a tilt of his head the now opened door. “Once you get to ground, get out of the middle of the road quick as you can, but try to do so that it looks natural.”


The chances that some passerby would observe their escape in this obscuring dusk was not entirely impossible. But this was the best chance they were going to get. There was no way that they could afford to wait until the wagon reached it’s destination.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 47



Iole Ishen, in the Underground dock, beneath the Chandlery, in Harlond.
With some unscrupulous pirates (and an unconscious Cali)
On the last day of Autumn Festival, last year.

She could feel his eyes, as though they were bugs, crawling all over every exposed inch of her. And in the chill of the .. cave ? .. it was more than cold that cloaked her skin. Leaning her head forward, dark hair did it’s best to cowl her shoulders. She had dressed for summer, for the field and flowers and fun. This was the furthest she could imagine being from any of that. As the man who had been assigned to ‘watch’ them (Rurik) moved to fuss with her unconscious friend, Iole caught her breath and readied to … fall on him ? Not sure quite what she might have done, it was fortunate that she was able to see his blurry shape just adjust the bonnet over the prone young woman, because the last thing Iole wanted to do at this point was let on that she’d managed to wet her own bonnet to some transparency. He’d only fix that too, and she was hoping it might prove useful at some point still. But quite how, she did not know.

Her heart was beating by now so loud that she did not register the roll of approaching barrels until the pirates had already arrived. The young woman counted .. two men, and the Captain who began questioning their guard. So .. four. That was far too many to try and outrun, especially in their current disadvantaged situation. If only Cali was awake ! If only she had not been hurt ! How exactly or how badly, the uninjured woman could not tell. But the men had said it, damaged. And now they fell to more of the same conversation.


Even if she had not recognised Devedir’s voice, the fact that these men had ‘recognised’ her … was enough to fill the young woman with dread. Taking deep breaths was not wise with such a shroud over her face, because the thin material sucked in with each gasp. But still she jerked her closest shoulder away from the sound of their voices, the memory of being grabbed, held, passed around as they had tried to decide last time what to do with her … it was … it could not .. be happening again ???!!!

Hope was slight when the Captain heard more from his men about who had brought the two young women and their barrels into his hands. He seemed to know ‘Lowendir’ merely from a brief description, which was so not good ! But when he asked where the man was now .. Iole hoped very much that he would punish their abductor for ‘damaging’ Cali so. None of them seemed very happy about her having been injured, which was a strange thing for the young captive to feel mutual to the villains, but still. If bad men wanted to punish a bad man for something bad that he had done, .. then she was certainly not going to protest. As if she even could. Still she hoped he got in trouble for it. At the very least, from his own comrades, if not justice or the law.


When the blurry shapes of men loaded the empty barrels into a .. sort of small boat that was gathered near, Iole tried to get up, not to help them out, and not that it helped her much anyway. Cali was hauled out of reach before she could think how to stop them .. with hands tied before her, and her face covered .. When one of their number lifted her in turn, Iole screamed with all of her might, sucked cloth be damned, and as much out of surprise and fear from the unexpected grasp as any real plan to call for aid.

The shrill noise echoed briefly throughout the cavernous dock, but did the young woman no good, as a barrel lid closed down all sound as surely as though she had been stomped into silence. The shifting of their boat along it’s hasty passage to the ship kept her from focusing on anything but how much she could not even make purchase or hold fast within her small confines. And then before she could even grow used to such uncouth handling, there was air about her, as the barrel and she were hoisted up and to the next stage of their journey.


No way to contact or check on Cali now, and no hope of getting out. She had missed her chance, and hot tears began to run channels down her face, further wetting the ridiculous bonnet that covered it. As if anybody who was about here to see would care to note her distress. Furiously, she struggled with her bound hands and tugged at the cotton bonnet until it was gathered around her chin, her face exposed once more. But in the dim light of inside a barrel, and aboard a ship bound for who knew where now .. what difference would it make ? The pearled skin of a scar on her one hand gave her an answer. For there was but one person she could hope now, his voice to hear.

"Please Trev, please please please," she prayed silently, sewing her fingers together. He had made the difference last time. But would he wish to intervene again ? He had after all decided to stay with the pirates, with his father, rather than come home with her last time. And this time the safety of the shore was already behind them.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

The bridge leading to castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

While Macardil was speaking to 'Andy', Sergeant Bays stood aside with Hankins in his grip, looking a little unsure what to do. It looked like things were suddenly turning hostile between those he had thought were allies, and the sergeant was a bit confused. And so, decided to just stay out of it. Hankins, however, watched with a bit of amusement.


The questions being asked by Lord Himhathol made him stare in stunned silence. Although he had heard about the tragic deaths of the Veranis family, but that had been months after Reilly. He'd never actually considered any sort of connection. Neither he nor Mar had ever met Reilly's family, after all. The suggestion, now, that there was a connection, left his mind reeling.

He had thought, after the events of July, that he would be used to having rugs yanked out from under him. But this.. topped all. Mar and Reilly had been friends.. right? Why would he do anything to Reilly? Why? Why? The question kept returning like it was on a loop.

The events of July flitted through again. The accusations.. that he had killed Ryndir. That he'd tried to have the others kidnapped. Those accusations had been shocking enough. But it did at least make some semblance of sense. The Five had always been against them. There was enmity between them, and while it was hard to accept that his brother may have killed someone, he had come to accept that Mar may have done something to Ryn, someone he disliked. But Reilly? Reilly was their friend.

He swallowed as Macardil repeated back his own words regarding Lord Veranis, and asked him if it was not so unthinkable that Mar might have been responsible for Reilly. But why? He felt like he needed to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit. Instead, he found himself leaning against the wall of the gatehouse, feeling like he needed some sort of support. He held onto the corner of the building with one hand as a multitude of thoughts came flooding into his mind now. The fact that Reilly had gone missing not long after Ryndir had died. And Mar... he had been in Pelargir not long after that. He remembered the way he had tried to convince Ric that he needn't worry about Reilly. How he had offered to look for their missing friend.. to make Ric feel better.

The memory flashed through his mind, now. “Don’t worry, Ric. Everything will be just fine.” Mar promised as he put an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Just go back home and stop worrying. I’ll keep you informed if I find anything.” But he never had 'found anything'. Every time Ric asked if he'd learned anything new, Mar had nothing much to tell. Could it be.. that he had only wanted to get Ric to stop looking? But.. again, the question returned; why? Why, why, why?

Feeling a little dazed, he blinked at the question about his name. Did that even matter? If there was some chance that Mar had done something to Reilly... Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he struggled to get his thoughts straight, and focus on the questions being asked of him. He opened them again. "Aderic." He answered, though his mouth felt dry. He swallowed. "Though.. my brother answers to my name as easily as I do, so.. it hardly matters." He added faintly.

He looked at Macardil, noting the look in his eyes. While Ric had hoped that someone might actually believe him for once.. that someone might actually give him a chance, he realized now that such a thing was not likely to happen. He shouldn't be surprised. And while Mar definitely had a lot to answer for, Ric realized that he would have to give some answers of his own, right now. He drew a shaky breath. "I never imagine it could be connected. It never seemed.. I mean, Reilly went missing months before.. the.. whatever happened, with the rest of them." He frowned. All he had ever heard about that incident had been vague and general, and Alyssa had never wanted to talk about it, so he had not asked her much. Alyssa... who had married his brother not long after that tragedy. But.. that had been orcs. Right? Yet, that didn't explain how Lord Veranis had ended up here...

"I.. I don't know anything, anymore, apparently." The young man declared softly, with much regret. "I never even considered that he.. I mean, I can't even think of what reason he'd have to do anything to Reilly.. like you're suggesting." He frowned, confused and upset by the thought of it. "But.. I've come to realize that I don't really know my brother as well as I thought I did." He looked down and stared at the ground. "I don't seem to know him at all, as it turns out." While he had known this for a while now, it was the first time he had acknowledged it out loud, and it troubled him. Still, he tried to put all of that to the back of his mind for now, and instead tried to focus on the matter of lord Veranis.

"Do you wish for details, lord Himhathol?" He asked quietly with a heavy sigh, looking up at him again as he returned to what the lord had said a moment ago, about how he had not given him any details about Lord Veranis' captivity. He held back from mentioning that this was delaying the rescue of the other lord, but he did wonder why it could not wait until after Lord Veranis was safe. "I will answer whatever I can, if it will help to convince you that I am sincere."

---

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem

Devedir, with Nikulas, a members of his crew
Inside the Chandlery
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)[/i]

After hastening up the steps, Dev paused at the top to check that all was clear before emerging into the chandlery. He took a look around, then went up to the upstairs 'living quarters' and found Nik stooping to gather cards up from the floor, where they seemed to have gotten blown or knocked off the table, due to the open window. "Alright, so where is he?" Dev demanded.

Nik turned from the window to look at his captain. "Um... which 'he'?"

"The fellow who brought the girls, dummy." Dev rolled his eyes. "Who else would I be asking about?"

"I thought you could've meant Doluzor," The pirate shrugged.

Dev looked around, frowning as his attention was drawn to the fact that Uhta's man was no longer here, either. "Well, I wasn't asking about him, but I am now. Where is he?"

Nik appeared far too relieved for Dev's liking, when he switched to asking about him. "He went off to get another load of them 'special barrels'," He answered with a very pleased grin. "Them first two was only a sample, I guess."

"I see," Dev nodded slowly, thinking. "And I suppose the other fellow went along with him?" He asked, watching the other man.

"Uh.. yeah!" Nik brightened at realizing he could claim that instead of the truth, and thus not get into any trouble. "He and Dol went off to get them, cause.. he needed an extra set of hands to lift them all, you know." He nodded as if that would help to confirm his tale.

Dev's eyes narrowed as he watched his crewman lie to him. And very poorly. His gaze went to the window, and back to Nik. "And, I suppose you were just getting a bit of fresh air while you waited for them to return?"

Nik hesitated. "Right, captain."

Dev gave him a withering look and then motioned toward the street outside, where a few guards were roaming around like they were looking for something. "Any idea what that's all about?" He asked.

Nik glanced to the window, then back to the captain. "Oh, sure. Dol went off in a guard wagon," He said with an amused grin. "Dressed up as a guard and all."

"And the other fellow... is posing as a prisoner?"

"Uh, right." Nik agreed with a trace of nervousness in his voice.

Dev nodded slowly, strolling casually over to join his crewman at the window. Abruptly, his hand shot out and grabbed the man by a handful of hair, next to his ear. And also grabbed part of his ear. Before Nik knew quite what was happening, he was pushed backward awkwardly, his back hovering over the table, with a blade pressed to his throat while Dev's grip pulled his head back to better expose his throat. Dev's gaze burned with icy anger, leaning in close to him. "Tell me, Nikulas," He hissed. "Is the word 'stupid' written across my forehead?"

"N-no captain.." Nik gasped, alarmed by the very uncomfortable situation he found himself in. He managed to get his forearms under him on the table, to at least support himself a bit, but he still couldn't get the knife away from his throat. It made swallowing very.. uncomfortable.

"Good. Now, here's a bit of advice, one man to another," Dev continued with an edge to his voice as sharp as his blade. "If you ever decide to lie about something again, at least don't make it so insultingly blatant that you're lying." He stared at Nik for a few seconds until the other man gave a tiny nod. Dev eased back slightly, but only slightly. "Even better advice from your captain; don't ever try lying to me again. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes captain." Nik answered nervously.

And like that, Dev backed off and let go of him. His knife disappeared into his clothes again. "Good, I'm glad." He waited while Nik straightened up from the table. "So. Let's try this again, shall we?" Dev raised an eyebrow. "Where is Netor?"

Nik swallowed, touching the spot on his throat where the blade had been pressed. "H-he said he'd stay and keep watch while I took the girls down, but..." He cleared his throat nervously.

"And he was gone when you returned." Dev finished, arms folded as he leaned against the wall, watching as Nik nodded. "So, then you decided to lie about it, because..?"

Nik fidgeted, rubbing his throat lightly. "Well.. I.. I thought you'd be upset about it." He mumbled.

Dev let the fingers of his top hand tap against the other arm, thoughtful as he looked at his crewman thoughtfully. "I see."

"Am I in trouble, captain?" Nik dared to ask.

Dev held back a sigh. "Well, you did leave your post." He mentioned. "Though, I do recall your reasons for doing so," He admitted. Because he didn't trust the other crewmates with the girls. And he'd wanted to be sure Dev knew who the one girl was. Because she was rather important, in a way. Perhaps more important than Nik even realized. "Still," Dev went on, thoughtful. "I don't like all those guards roaming around out there. What if they'd come in here and found out about our whole operation, because you left your post?" Dev's voice regained a bit of the edge from before. "So. I will speak to the bo'sun when we get back to the ship." He declared. "And he will decide your punishment."

"Aye, captain." Nik replied in a resigned tone. Little did he know, he would only get a light punishment.

"Now, about Netor," Dev returned to the topic he was really curious about. "Did he give any reason why he brought us that... gift?" He asked, then listened to everything Nik could tell him about how the man had come rolling up in a wagon laden with barrels, and everything he could remember about what had been spoken between them all.

By the time Dev returned down below to the secret warehouse, the tide had risen, and the window for getting back to the ship had passed. He found that the majority of his crew were still there, since he had not given the order to leave yet. The boats laden with goods had all been sent off to the ship, but the crew waited for Dev, figuring that if he didn't come before the tunnel was underwater, they could always just walk the long way around to where the ship was anchored.

But the captain's plans had changed now, having heard that there was a very profitable cargo on its way, and would not be here for a few more hours. "We'll wait for the next low tide," he declared. "In the meanwhile, let's gather a couple more boatloads of these goods. Then we can all have a bit of downtime while we wait." He ordered. It would be several hours to wait, but if the rest of the load was anything like the 'sample' Arkadhur had brought, then Dev figured it would be worthwhile to wait for Doluzor to return with his load.

---

Carpe Diem

Trevadir
Wingolost, anchored out of sight from Harlond
End of Autumn, same day as the kidnapping

"Another load coming up!" One of the crew called out. Trev let out a sigh, pushing off from the wall and went to help unload. This boat, as all the others, was laden with boxes and barrels. While he approached, the men who had come in with the boat pulled Scar aside and whispered with him briefly. Trev glanced at them, curiously, before moving to grab one of the barrels.

"Leave the barrels." Scar ordered, turning to Trev. "You ain't got enough muscle for that anyway," He snickered. "Grab one of those crates instead, leave the heavy stuff for the grown-ups."

Trev paused and frowned at him, but he sighed and moved over to grab one of the crates instead. After hoisting it up onto his shoulder, he took another glance back, somewhat curious about whatever they had been whispering about. But he saw nothing that would give him any clue about whatever secrets they had between them, so he went on his way to the cargo hold.

When Trev returned for another crate, he paused as he looked at the load. A couple other crewmen had brought some other crates and things down to the hold with him, but no one had brought any barrels down. And yet, two of the barrels were missing. Maybe it was food supplies for the galley? But two barrels? He shrugged slightly to himself, taking another crate down to add to the rest of the cargo, while wondering about those two barrels. And why the others hadn't wanted him to try and move them... it was a bit strange, so maybe he shouldn't dismiss it so easily?

---

Cali, with Iole and some pirates
On the pirate ship

Once Trev was out of sight, Scar motioned hastily to his crewmate. "Come on, let's get these two barrels down to the brig, now." He ordered. "Captain sent orders along, instructing us to make sure Trev doesn't get near this particular.. cargo. He's not to know what's in here." They lifted the first barrel out of the boat, then the second, and between them they brought them down to the ship's brig. "What is in here, anyway?" Grisly asked, intrigued by all the secrecy.

"Let's find out." Scar grabbed a crowbar to pry off the barrel's lid.

After opening up the first barrel, he let out a whistle as he beheld the young woman stuffed inside. "No wonder captain wanted this kept secret." He grinned as he reached in to help her out. "Looks like this trip might be a bit more fun than usual!"

"Don't be an idiot," Grisly scoffed, grabbing her by one arm to pull her away from his crewmate. "Captain said to put them down here, he didn't say we could have any fun with 'em."

"But he didn't say we couldn't, right?" Scar pouted.

"You know captain's rules. 'Til he says it's alright, we don't touch them." Grisly reminded him, though he did take a regretful look at the girl as he opened the barred door. He pushed the tearful girl inside and closed the door again, giving her another look. "Too bad."

"Let's open the other one." Scar grinned. "Ten coins says it's another pretty girl."

They removed the lid and Scar gave a little cheer when he was proven right. He reached in and grabbed her and pulled her up out of the barrel, tossing the crowbar aside.

Stirring out of her dazed state, Cali feebly tried to push away the grabbing hands.

"Hey, this one's hurt," Scar frowned. "Should we get Noru?" He pulled the bonnet from her bruised face as he held her upright, while Grisly held a lantern up to get a better look at her.

She tried to turn away, moaning softly. Her arm was in such pain! Why couldn't they leave her alone? A light came closer to her face, too bright after being confined in that barrel, with a bonnet covering her face, for so long. She turned her face away, but a rough hand grabbed her around the chin and turned her face back toward the light. She mumbled something, trying to tell them to leave her alone.

"Let's wait and see what the captain says, when he gets aboard." Grisly decided. "For now, just stick her in there with the other, and we'd best make sure the brat don't get near 'em, or you know what he'll want to do." He scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

"Dunno why the captain keeps him around," Scar muttered in annoyance as he dragged the wounded girl into the cell while his partner held the door, watching to make sure the other girl didn't try anything. Scar left Cali on the floor, ignoring her faint protests, and then stepped out, letting Grisly lock the door. "You'd best see if Captain Dev's back yet, and find out what to do about them. I'll guard the brig." Grisly declared. Just outside the entrance to the brig, the two fell into an argument about who should stand guard and who should go look for the captain...

Meanwhile, Cali struggled to bring herself back to some form of alertness, but for the moment she only seemed able to lay on the floor, moaning softly in pain after having her arm jostled around a bit. There was a single lantern hanging on a wall across from the cell, which kept them from being in total darkness at least. But she felt like she could slip off into sleep far too easily, and she didn't even know where she was, nor who these other men were. And what had happened to Iole?

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Ziran noted the tension and Macardil’s growing disquiet with the situation with concern as she pieced together the tales with what she had heard previously. She had gone along with the chosen course of action since it did not fit with her selected persona to speak out, even if it had begun to look like they would need to eventually call a local guard troop to secure the castle and guard the many prisoners until the “lord” returned. But that was a future concern as yet, with many potential enemies standing between them and their goal of freeing Macardil’s great friend.

Remembering the tale Macardil had shared with her seemingly just a few days before this trip, she could understand his concerns about their guide’s identity, although she hadn’t caught exactly what it was about “Andy’s” method of speedily subduing the guard that had sparked this questioning. Her gaze flitted between the two men and the observing Sergeant and bound guard as Macardil asked for “Andy’s” proper name with an unusual tightness in his voice. With a quiet chirrup to her horse, she siddled it up beside him so her left stirrup brushed his and her knee bumped his right knee briefly. Not wanting to interrupt verbally, she listened to the twin share his story of confusion and his name. Aderic.

Voice quiet so as to only reach her husband, she murmured to him, “Herven,” hoping she wouldn’t need to say anything else to help him focus. She was usually the more direct of the two of them. “Let us go find Veranis and have him help us sort all this out afterwards as much as he is able. I’d rather not stand in the open for a curious patrol, but will abide by your judgement in this matter.”

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

"It matters. If you continue to prove yourself, and if you help me save my friend from what your brother has done to him... It matters that I am aware which of the brothers you are - and which of you he is," Macardil insisted. He did not really have much headspace for Aderic's emotional difficulties at the moment, however, since his own were rather prevalent.

"No," he replied to Aderic's question, wondering what had been unclear about his statement that it seemed logical that the brother respsonisble for Halberion's captivity would also be the one to be held accountable for his son's disappearance. That was when Ziran lightly made contact with him. It seemed that his response was giving her cause for concern about his focus, as well. Macardil pressed his teeth together, a way to try and release his frustration in a way which would be unnoticeable to anyone watching him.

"No details, at present." The words Androllius had used earlier, were enough. While he was imagining a very unpleasant situation for his friend, Macardil feared that the reality would be even worse. Hence, that reality could wait until he met it face to face.

"Let us pass through the gate," he spoke more quietly, feeling a bit disconnected from everyone around him. Halberion was here, who knew in which condition exactly. Alyssa was not, however, which probably meant she was with the other Androllius brother - who had captured her father and had pressure her into who knew what. It seemed very likely, now, that her marriage to the other brother had been forced. Why else would Androllius... Ansellidus... keep Halberion as a prisoner, if not as some means of pressure? On the inside, Macardil was seething. On the outside, his body language was tight, tense - but he maintained his composure.

He returned to his mare, mounting Nightshade once more in preparation of riding through the gate. He was not sure what to expect on the other side. Honestly, it was difficult to think about much else than the situation of several people belonging to the Veranis family. The family he had been so close to. The family whom he had presumed dead - from the first to the last. Perhaps... perhaps Reilly was still alive? Both Alyssa and Halberion had turned out to be alive, after all. perhaps more of them were.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

Aderic
Castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

Macardil's response helped him to understand better, why he was asking for his name. While Ric still felt that it wouldn't be all that helpful to know his name, since Mar used it so often, he was also somewhat hopeful of a chance to at least attempt redeeming his own name. Which was why he had come here in the first place, wasn't it? He gave a little nod, relieved that it seemed that he would be given a chance. "I am Aderic." He repeated then, and gave a little sigh.

"Alas, that name has gained a rather unpleasant reputation back home, thanks to my brother. There are far too many people whom I have encountered who are unwilling to give me any sort of chance to prove that reputation is wrong." He offered an explanation apologetically. "Thus, I thought it best not to offer that name, when you asked, for I didn't know where you were from, nor what you might have heard concerning my name." It was probably not something anyone else could fully understand, he figured, but he did want the lord to know why he had not given his rightful name to begin with. Not to mention he wasn't really sure what his status might be, back in Minas Tirith. Still... he was glad to be able to use his true name again, for using the other had felt a bit less than honest, even if he did justify it with being a shortened version of his last name.

Watching as the lady rode up, Ric could not hear whatever she said to the lord, but it seemed to have some effect on him, for he seemed to decide to continue onward, without hearing any further details about Lord Veranis' condition. Yet. Ric noted the addition 'at present' and assumed that meant there would be more inquiries, at a later time. He gave a little nod of acknowledgement to that. Now, it seemed they were ready to pass through into the castle's courtyard.

"Oh.. one moment, please?" Ric asked, and indicated the gatehouse, with a little glance at the ax.. he was not sure whether he had been planning to use it on Ric or not, but he noticed that he had not put it away. Therefore, he thought that it might be best to be clear about his intention. "I would like to retrieve my things first, if I may." He didn't know what might happen next, but he did not like the idea of his things being left for anyone to look through them.

Once he had some indication that it was alright*, it didn't take long at all for him to step into the gatehouse, grab the pillowcase which his things were stuffed into, and return, pulling out a few papers on which he had drawn a very rough sketch of the castle's layout. "The.. map that I made." He explained, holding it up to show them, though a little embarrassed by his lack of drawing skills, and how little of the castle was actually marked, since he didn't know much of it. "The castle is very old and rather large. It spreads out across the mountaintop, and branches off into four wings, each with a few levels." He added, unsure how many, since he had not seen every bit of the place. "I was told once that it's made to be in the shape of a four-pointed star. While I'm sure it was an impressive bit of architecture at the time of its building... I found it a bit too easy to get turned around and confused, while trying to find my way around the place. So, I've done my best to mark the route that I followed as well as I could remember it, from the day that I came across Lord Veranis." He explained as Bays went to open the gate for them. "I wasn't sure whether I would have to find my way back there by myself, or not, so I didn't want to get lost on the way. I'm.. really very unfamiliar with this place, you see, and I haven't had any chance to actually explore and learn the rooms and hallways at all."

Bays gave a little smile then. "I know it pretty well." He spoke up while the others were passing through the gate. "Been working as a guard here for many years, so I can at least help with that. But as for the dungeon.. I've never been down that far." He frowned. "I'd always heard that there was a dungeon below the castle, that was made when the place was first built. But it had been sealed off for many years, as none of the previous lords for the last several generations had any use for a dungeon. Apparently, Lord Amardir had it opened again after old Lord Alagion passed away." He frowned.

"Amardir?" Ric repeated questioningly, his tone a mix of surprise and confusion, for that was the first he had heard that name. Was he referring to his brother? Or did he mean someone else? He wasn't entirely sure if he might have been referring to some other lord. Regardless, Ric had spoken so quietly that Bays, standing over by the gate, did not hear him, and Ric did not press the matter.

Once the group had gone through the gate, they came into the courtyard. Off to one side was a stable large enough to house several horses, with an area for carriages to be parked. Ric's gaze straight toward the stable, then he looked at the lord and lady. "Should we go to the stable first?" He asked, wondering if they'd want to put their horses there before venturing inside the castle. If they did, then he felt hopeful that he might be able to find out if his own horse was still there.


(The castle is based on this image]
*checked with writer[/color)

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Torniel
Harlond Harbour - January

A promise had been made. Hence, in between assignments, she had started on a project of her own. As far as the Hand knew, she was setting up a front that might be helpful for his business at some point. He liked the way her mind worked, and so he had sanctioned and even funded it all, himself. Without demanding to ever even so much as set foot in the place.

That suited her just fine. And allowed her to leave a message with the Harbour Master of Harlond, as she had told a certain knight she would.

"This is for the Captain of the Bregolalph," she had told the Harbour Master.

The man had not been surprised by a message being left with him, so much as that he had been surprised by the person who was leaving it. He rarely saw such a lovely lady as this one in his office by the docks. With such hair, such eyes... such lips. Such hips. After he had recovered from the mild shock, however, he had accepted it. "Urgent?" he had checked.

"I would appreciate it if he received it upon arrival at the harbour," came the reply. For if he did not, there might be little to no time left for him to come and find her. And it will have been the better part of the month since they had seen each other last, by the time of his return. While she hated to admit it, she was not keen on missing him for any longer than that.

The note was very obviously hers, since she had signed it with the name he had given her. It would lead Dauntless to an address on the Third Circle of the City, where Torniel had prepared an office at the ground level, as well as a living area on the floor above. She had actually started staying there, as well, which allowed her to add some personal touches that she otherwise would not have thought of.

She did wonder, at some point, whether this was going too far to simply accommodate a... dalliance. A tryst. An escape. Or whatever else this was... or might turn out to be.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 48



Iole Ishen, boarding the ‘Wingolost’
In the company of some unscrupulous pirates (and an unconscious Cali)
On the last day of Autumn Festival, last year.

There passed a short time when she believed that her barrel had been hurled into the water. For the sensation of being tossed about by rollicking waves was the closest she could make sense of, until the grunting and the groans betrayed the men who bore her as their burden, none too gently, aboard the ‘Wingolost’. From an unseen and somewhat unbalanced shoulder she shuddered to a rest at last upon a lurching, creaking ground. A creak and a small crack sounded from above and then the sky brightened anew, and ever more so now that her blindfold was loose under her chin by this point. It was not the actual sky of course, and as blue eyes adapted to the shock of sight .. proper sight .. again, the dimly lit brig came into definition. Complete with it’s swinging lantern, burly men and barred divide.

There was little point in resisting as Scar helped her out of her stinking confines, not least because she did not wish to be in there ! Still, loosed unto the open room, the young woman staggered, more from all the pulling and pushing that the men were employing, than any lack of sea legs. In no time at all, they had shoved her behind the bars and secured the iron door. But despite the new cage, Iole eyed the new obstacle between her and the men as a good thing. She stumbled slightly back as far as she could go and sank to the floor, leaning from fatigue and nearly faintfulness against the furthest wall away from them.


When the pair unloaded the other barrel though, the young woman rose up upon her knees and her lips parted as she recognised her friend. Cali was less herded and more so dropped rather unceremoniously within their new little pen, and as soon as the strong door was locked between them, Iole shuffled across the floor to huddle close enough to examine the wounded smith. Her friend was certainly hurt.

“I’m here,” she whispered quietly, as the men obliviously fell to bickering between them. “Stay with me. Please ..” Blue eyes filled, despite her best effort to hold onto anger, rather than upset.

---

Arkadhur Halsad, aka Erud Hantus
In Harlond, after leaving the Chandlery
On the last day of Autumn Festival, last year.

The change in his appearance was subtle, but the change in his demeanour might have thought him an entirely altered person. For since making his unobserved departure out of the chandlery window, Arkadhur had made his way in quite the opposite direction than he had sent Doluzor off in. This was not the first time the conman had been in Harlond, it was merely the first time he had managed to get back this far since the war. And on that last occasion the mark scorred into the back of his right shoulder had served his alibi for not the first time. Lord Hollin Menilzir II had, after all, been ‘thrown off a corsair ship by his captors, withevery intention to serve as a distraction to the Swan Knights who set after them'. So the telltale marks of a brutal existence as an oarslave had been sculpted carefully into his skin. And he had sworn even as he sat through the ordeal with patience grinding his teeth, that he would pay back Khalsim for managing that ‘desguise’. The permanency of the thing was not his preference at all. But as the Captain of the ‘Sea Scythe’ was long since made dead now, and so Khalsim was one name that his 'associate' could cross off his list. Still Arkadhur could not deny that the same mark had served him on a second occasion when he was mistaken for a freed slave by the Rangers who commandeered those Corsair ships in Pelargir during the war. When they had vowed to see the ‘rescued man’ safely to the Houses of Healing, he had not seen any sense in arguing. And it had been too easy to then slip away amidst all the many authentic oarslaves who truly needed the Gondorians’ assistance. The healers were spared a needless examination and he was delivered into a besieged mountain fort city.

The Umbarian had not expected though that he would spend the next several years stuck squatting and stealing within the White City, nor that he would be forced to leave before he ever gained an opportunity to encounter her there. The manipulations of Lowendir had been a way to pass the time, to fetch whatever the Umbarian needed and learn whatever else he wanted, without Ark ever having to risk doing it himself. Time spent as a ‘lord’ in Dol Amroth had taught him the habit of delegation. And not simply in the way that most ‘noblemen’ relied on their staff. But now that Ademar knew he was in Minas Tirith, … leaving had been essential. And though he would not need to manage the ‘escaped oarslave’ disguise this day, there was another persona which would work well. And allow him all that he required, time to work out his next move.


The barrels from the farm he had unloaded at the Chandlery, but the wagon he had led off, to block the Harbour Guard Headquarters. The horses he had unleashed then and taken to the self same livery where he altered his attire with the aid of straw and a flat hat that somebody had left lying about. Mistaken for a member of the staff there, he had rented out those same horses to the first person who came looking for a means to ride their entrance up into Minas Tirith. The proceeds of that sale allowed him the means to noticeably weigh his pocket and make business in a shop on the next street, where he purported to be a servant, collecting a reserved suit for his employer. When this reserved suit could (obviously) not be found (as he had just now lied it into existence), a reduction in price was agreed for the suit he ended up leaving the store with. For the name of his 'employer' was not one which the store wished to, in any way, offend.

One bracing wash later in the water underneath the dock (a venture which was not without it’s perils but of course he had known far worse in his time) left the Umbarian refreshed, clean and although damp .. with his dark hair now slicked back. He concealed the unique knife he had picked up back at the Pelennor, about his person now, dressed himself in the new suit and bound his dirty clothes up in the wrappings of the new, as though they would serve as a fair replacement. Having tied the tail of his hair back neatly at the nape of his neck, the man took a jaunty stroll along the street and offered a boy who he found sitting there, begging for food, a bright shiny coin, to carry his ‘package’ for him. Halfway up the next street he picked up a lady’s handkerchief which had fallen from her sleeve onto the cobbled street as she hastened out of her carriage. And they two then took up with polite conversation as the Umbarian accompanied her and her chaperone into the Inn she had (by the end of their short sojourn) just finished regaling with him about. What a delightful surprise it was for her to learn then that he was staying at that same one himself !

Greeting the neat member of staff at the reception, now as a clearly known associate of the young lady he had courteously allowed to speak first, the liar watched the maidens leave without his any pursuit, calmly introduced himself as Erud Hantus, and paid off the helpful youth who’d followed him in to solidify the alibi of ‘luggage’ with a suggestion that the urchin should come find him outside this inn on the morrow. If he wanted to earn more.


The Umbarian’s face was not easily recalled in Harlond, not outside the chandlery, but the name of Erud Hantus was. A silent partner in a prosperous company who was wisely invested in the flax trade from an inland Dor-en-Ernil estate; the newly arrived gentleman’s reputation was already suitably rich and owing of respect, thanks to his chosen investment being a significant resource for cattle grain, and foodstores, and herbal remedies, as well as a key component in the creation of linens. Quite why the conman had taken on so many names throughout the various fiefdoms of Gondor was only conjecture and suspicion by those who had heard a mere one or two of their number, but none could deny the man knew an investment when he saw one. There was a tidy profit building from his secret shares even now, at the bank under the Hantus name. And anybody watching the streets for a lone man, dressed in the worn clothes that he’d stolen months back from the White Tree Theatre costumes .. would not think to suspect the finely dressed gentleman, walking in no hurry with a pair of respectable women and what looked like a servant hastening behind him, with his ‘things’.

It was only once he’d found and checked the very nice room that his alias had earned him, that Arkadhur pulled the curtains, changed back into his worse clothes and slipped out of the ‘Wily Heron’ Inn through a back window which he duly left open for his return. Arkadhur then as, appearing just he had been dressed on his arrival with the barrels, rushed with a lot of glancing about him back toward the ‘Siren’s Embrace’, and told enough lies that the man there gave him a room. Which he knew that the innkeeper there would easily sell as information to anybody looking for this shifty stranger, if the man did not provide payment. The ‘Siren' after all was far more open to finding ways to get their lodgers to pay what they owed. Which was exactly why the Umbarian did not intend to stay there. Though he did wish to maintain the appearance that he was ...

Once Arkadhur had found his room at this far less fancy inn, and taken a moment to acknowledge the difference of where he had come from compared to where he had climbed his way up to … socially speaking, the Umbarian slipped back out, and more clandestinely returned to his nice stay at the ‘Heron’. Collapsing into a chair in his far nicer room, he sat behind one side of curtains, with a perfect view from the window to spy on both the room ‘he’ was known to be at, in the Siren’, and also the road which lead with perfect view back down toward the Chandlery. There were harbour guards pouring about the darkening streets now, looking for their stolen wagon, and so Erud Hantus snuffed out the lantern in his room, and changed under the cloak of darkness back into the guise who ought be found where he was, and could not be tied to any ill doing about the port at all. Then he fell back easily into his chair, and watched, and waited. With the same anticipation as a child who sets up a row of playing cards, eager for the moment where the tapping of just one card would see it fall down, taking down all others in it’s intricate design. The best things worth waiting for were worth the trouble they took to work up to. Or so he had found. He was a man who could absolutely wait for what he knew that he was owed. Whether or not the world at large agreed with that 'justice' or not.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem

Cali, with Iole
On the pirate ship, Wingolost
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Only half of her battered face was really visible, due to the bonnet tied around her mouth to hold in the wad of cloth that the man had shoved into her mouth. The half that was visible, however, displayed bruises from having been slammed into the inner wall of the barrel, near the beginning of their unintended trip. Blood had streaked down from her nose to stain the clothing she wore. The apron, at least, had the majority of the blood on it, so the only bit of her own clothing that had blood on it, was her sleeves. But, after being cramped up inside the barrel for longer than her friend, her arms had acquired a lot of blood on them after bumping against her face repeatedly and encouraging more blood to flow from her nose.

Her wrists were still bound together, causing her pain with every jolt and bump. A whimper escaped her as she was dropped onto the floor. What was even going on? She had lost track of everything. Whose voices were those that she could hear? Taking shallow, shuddering breaths, Cali felt as if the strange voices were drifting away, as if she were in a dream and they were not really there. She tried to ask someone to untie her, but her mouth didn't seem to work anymore.

Then another voice broke in. One that also sounded like a dream, but she recognized this one. Iole? Where were they? Was she in some sort of dream? She dimly remembered some of the events, but they seemed far off, as if it had not really happened. But it had happened, hadn't it? She closed her eyes tightly, clinging to the last thing she remembered before she'd lost awareness. Rip's voice. Where were they, now? What sort of nightmare was this?

---

Trevadir
On the Wingolost, anchored out of sight from Harlond
End of Autumn, same day as the kidnapping

What was in those barrels? The question burned in Trev's mind, even though he tried to dismiss it, telling himself it was only food stuff going to the galley. But once all the crates and things had been loaded into the hold, there was no sign of those two barrels. Something in his gut told him that something was up. The rebellious member of the crew made his way to the galley, to snoop around. No new barrels. Next, he checked a few other places, but he couldn't find any trace of those barrels. It was like they had just vanished.

Trev found that very suspicious, remembering how they had all but ordered him not to touch them. It seemed clear that there was something his crewmates didn't want him to know about. He knew this crew pretty well by now, and therefore he knew that if there was something they didn't want him to know about, then it was probably something he should find out about. So, instead of giving up his search, he increased it.

He was growing more and more perplexed, until he went into the crew quarters, just to make sure he'd searched everywhere. And as he passed near the door that led through to the brig, he paused as he heard Scar and Grisly's voices, arguing. Trev paused and moved to stand by the wall next to the door, listening. He frowned as he got the gist of what the argument was about; there was someone in the Brig that they both felt needed guarding, and neither wanted to go take care of other work and leave the other here alone. That was... interesting.

Suspicion grew in his mind, having an uneasy feeling about what it was they were guarding. There was only one thing the crew would not want him to find out they were transporting, for every time in the past that he'd known about such a particular 'cargo', he had done his very best to free it and foil the pirate's plans. People. And not just people, either. For there was only one reason Trev could think of that these two would both want to remain on guard duty, rather than check out whatever other new things had been brought on board. Women.

Closing his eyes, Trev took a slow breath to calm himself. This was bad. And right here in Harlond, too! He clenched his hands down by his sides, trying to think of a plan. At last, the two reached an agreement. Judging from their talk, it seemed the purpose they had in mind was to make sure that Trev didn't happen to find these poor captives. They must know he would try to help them, he thought with a wry smile.

But this made things difficult. How could he get past them? Scar would be determined not to leave, if there were really women in there. And he would probably not leave them alone if he was left alone with them. Which was bad for the poor women, but also would make it nearly impossible for Trev to get them out.

As for Grisly, if he was to be believed, he had gotten his nickname because he had once wrestled a grizzly bear, which apparently were very large and vicious bears found in northern areas. Trev had never seen one, but the stories his crewmate told about the creatures were rather frightening. But in truth, Trev thought the name actually came from his last name, which he'd heard once to be something like Gresley, or similar.

Regardless of the man's name origin, he was a big guy, and he wasn't going to just let Trev slip past him. But neither of them were very smart, either, Trev knew. He listened as they reached an agreement, realizing that anyone who wanted to reach the brig would have to pass through the crew quarters, they went there to wait and pass the time. Trev hastily backed away, then left the room and waited, pressing his ear to the door. After he heard them settle in for a game of cards, waited until it sounded like they were well into the game, before coming in. "There you are," Trev said breathlessly. "Dev's been looking for you two," He reported. "He's not happy, I think you'd better go report for duty."

They two exchanged glances, looking a bit torn. "Dev's on board?" Scar asked, surprised. "I thought..."

"Look, all I know is, Dev wants to see you both, and he's mad. I don't have time to stand around talking, I have to report to the galley." Trev hurried out, going to the galley. A few seconds later, he heard them both hurrying out behind him, and he smiled. He did go to the galley, just to make sure they believed that he really was going there. But only to grab a couple of things. Then he doubled back and returned to find the room satisfactorily unguarded.

The brig was situated behind the crew's quarters so that any prisoner held there would be guarded by the entire crew. Trev quietly slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind himself, then turned to see if his guess had been correct. But when he got a look at who was there, the stunned look on his face revealed how unexpected this reunion was for him. "Iole..?!" He gasped softly, eyes wide in shock, having not gotten a look at the other yet.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 49



Iole Ishen, aboard the ‘Wingolost’. Finding Trevadir
In the company of some unscrupulous pirates (and an unconscious Cali)
On the last day of Autumn Festival, last year.

It should not have been such a surprise, because Iole had heard the men say that her friend was ‘hurt’. But to actually see it ? The first thing was that there was clearly quite a lot of blood, although it seemed more like the stain of it rather than a massive bleed which now required stemming. If the latter had been true, the injured young woman would surely have bled to death in the barrel already. Cali had looked nothing like this bad though at the time her friend had last seen her. This was more than getting shaken about in the barrel. Iole did not know quite what it was, but neither did she properly wish to, if she were being honest. To learn how much hurt had been done to Cali .. would be hard to bear. But still, how could she help if she did not at least investigate what she was working with ?

At least the men did not protest when she moved toward assisting her friend. In fact it could be argued that they did not even register the fact. And once they’d seemed to come to a checkmate and retreat together from guarding either of them, Iole released a breath. She might have hoped to ask them for some water or the like, but doubtless they would have refused anyway. So .. out of sight was not exactly out of mind. But it gave the two friends a brief respite anyway.


Gnawing at the rope about her wrists, she soon learnt it would not be easily loosened. At least her hands had been bound in front of her, which was different to how she had last known it, before the barrels. But who knew what that man had been thinking ? Cali’s wrists were no more easily released, although she tried. But the ropes binding both of the girls’ wrists were so tight, they might have to find something sharp to cut free. Luckily they were not so tight as to numb her fingers or she would have nothing to work with at all ! At any rate, she was able to untie the bonnet that was still obscuring her friend’s face. And realising that there was something which had been forced into the other girl’s mouth, Iole did her best to ease it out of there.

Her friend did not seem to be rightfully aware of what was going on. And all that could be managed was a nervous “Shh .. shhh”, in some vain effort to soothe her. There was little point in stating that they’d ‘be alright’ or they were ‘safe now’, as both these assumptions would be entirely premature. But as her fingers managed to unshrug the bonnet which was now wrapped by it’s ties under her chin, Iole found that, like her friend’s, was easier to untie. So the young woman pulled it away from her with all the distaste it had earned. Thankfully it was still a little damp from where she’d put wet hands to it at the dock, rather than the dampness of their toes which were more from the still water at the foot of the barrels. In the dim light, Iole did her best to dab her damp bonnet gently about Cali’s face to see off the worst of the blood, and at least determine the source of it rather than see all where it had spread.


She had been busy about this when she heard a voice from the direction where the men had disappeared. She knew that voice, and it was not one of the pirates. Well .. not entirely. Iole heard their friend relay some message to the two brutes, and then they sounded to grump off, rather unhappily. She was working up the courage to see if she dared call out to Trev, when he emerged regardless in the doorway. The years had changed him some, as they had all of them. But it seemed that this day was fated to be full of reunions. And even if she had not known his face, or recognised the boy she had once played with, in the pirate who stood there before them, he spoke her name. He knew her and she was sure. Startled, but not entirely sorry to see her. There was not really time enough to process much, when those others might come back at any moment.

“Trev” she confirmed with no energy to even fake a smile. For blue eyes fell with great lashes from the shock of finding him, to note the one amongst them whose hurts she could not unsee. “Cali’s hurt,” Iole relayed the most important thing she could say at that moment. “I can’t tell yet how bad it is. I didn’t see what he did to her.”


She had after all, only managed less than six months in the Houses of Healing, and since her interest had lain in learning to care for her bedridden mother, she had trained more with nurses in making beds and cleaning wounds, than actually treating anything too serious. Perhaps that learning would have come later. Except that this was later already arrived, and she did not know what to do.

She had fainted dead away when that man had produced his bloodied rope and knife, back at the farm. And whatever had occurred before she came to in the chandlery, her friend had been already reported as ‘damaged’ by the men who received them there. The only one who might tell what had happened to Cali, was Cali. And at the moment, that did not look likely.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem

Cali, with Iole
On the pirate ship, Wingolost
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

The obstruction in her mouth was removed, at last. Cali's mouth felt horribly dry by now, and she longed for some water to moisten it. "Rip.. the gate..." The murmured words were spoken with distress. A moment later, her eyes dimly registered Iole leaning over her, and she tried to offer a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," She mumbled faintly. "Ryn'll protect us." Lost in some far-off memory, Cali closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the pain in her arm.

Then, feeling something cold and wet on her face, she whimpered as she felt the faint sting of salt water, which had dampened the bonnet being used to dab her face. Roused from her drowsiness, Cali opened her eyes and saw Iole again, looking quite concerned.

"M-my arm..." She murmured, feeling like her own voice came back to her from some far away place. "Is.. it still.. there?" Cali asked faintly, her voice shaky, bordering on panicked. She thought it hurt enough to be there, but somewhere dimly in her memory, she remembered hearing tales about people losing limbs and feeling like they were still there... missing limbs having phantom pains, and so forth. Considering one of the members of their circle of friends had a father who had endured that very thing, Cali was honestly questioning whether her arm had actually been broken off. She remembered seeing a lot of blood on her sleeve, after all, and didn't know that that blood had all come from her nose. She struggled not to start sobbing as another distressing realization set in. "I'll.. I'll never be able to hold a hammer again, will I?" On the border of panicking, she tried to shift for an attempt at sitting up, but she didn't get far before collapsing with a cry of pain.

---

Trevadir
On the Wingolost, anchored out of sight from Harlond
End of Autumn, same day as the kidnapping

"What are you.." Before he had a chance to finish that question, Iole's response shifted his attention to something more important; the other girl in the cell, whom he had not yet gotten a look at. "Cali too?" He said in despair, dread gnawing at his gut at the thought of his two sisters being here, in such a despicable place. And if it wasn't bad enough to find them both here, of all horrible places, Cali was hurt! Hurrying forward, he crouched at the bars to see for himself. His anxiety shot through the roof upon seeing blood, but as Iole said, it was hard to tell how bad it was. "Who did this?" He asked, frowning as he belatedly registered her phrasing; 'I didn’t see what he did to her'.

"Here, let me untie you," He suggested hastily, reaching in to undo the bonds about his sister's wrists, or cut them if necessary. "How did.. no, nevermind that," He decided that if he was going to get any sort of explanation for how they came to be here, it could wait until they were safe. "What about you? Are you hurt?" He asked Iole, glancing her over briefly, then turned his gaze back to Cali. "Do you need anything?" He asked, thinking frantically about what sort of supplies he might be able to slip down here to them. "I could get bandages.. water.. herbs? Whatever you need, just tell me.. if I can get it, I will." He knew he had only a short window of time in which he could slip out and back in.. and no idea how long that window would last. Which meant, if he was going to bring anything, he would have to be quick about it.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Carpe Diem - Part 50



Iole Ishen, aboard the ‘Wingolost’. Finding Trevadir
In the company of some unscrupulous pirates (and a semi-conscious Cali)
Docks of Harlond harbour. On the last day of Autumn Festival, last year.

Iole smiled back, though faintly when her friend began to mumble about ‘Rip’ and a gate .. which made no sense at all. And when mention came that ‘Ryn would save them’ .. she concluded that the injured young woman was lost in a memory of several years ago now. For it would have been at least that long ago that Ryndir was even still alive. The thought caught her at quite the wrong moment and a panicked gasp escaped. But no, no ! She would not let his twin die as well ! She wasn’t quite sure how she might prevent it, but .. first first first. Her mind chased off the flurry of upset, as she might have shaken the dust out of a large bed sheet. What first ?

The nonsense that her friend was muttering about might well imply a head injury, and practical sense kicked into gear. But .. she could not exactly check with her hands as they were. So there was hatched a frown. Persevering with the scarcely damp enough bonnet managed to see off the worst of the bloodied mess that had covered Cali’s face. Alas that it seemed there were yet bruises beneath that to keep the pallid skin marked up.


She smiled nonetheless and far more heartily as Cali’s brown eyes flickered open, and she seemed to see the friend at hand. Really see her. But ‘Marm ?’ What did that mean ? And she wasn’t sure what was not there that was supposed to be there, until the lament came about never holding a hammer again. Of course. ‘Marm’. She had meant ‘my arm’.

“It’s there, I promise. It’s still there,” she confirmed, as convincingly as she could manage. For it was true of course. And this was not the first time that a friend had come to, and begun to freak out about a missing arm. Thankfully in both cases, the fear had been irrational. Although Iole couldn’t have known that the very same person was to blame for both the injuries that incited that terror.


She had barely managed to keep Cali from striking her head against the floor as her bloodied friend lost balance, Iole losing grip on the damp bonnet as she did so, when Trev moved from shock to assist them. “A man ..” was the most she could offer, when their blood brother asked who in fact had done this. “He said his name was Lowendir” she relayed, in case Trev might know him. In case he was somewhere else on this ship even now ! “Your father went to talk to him,” she relayed, as the young man worked on releasing her wrists. She kept her eyes on him, as he worked, wondering what reaction this pointed reminder .. of his father ... of this .. might conjure up.

Once freedom had been managed though, somehow the urge to well up again threatened on the horizon. The liberation should have been a joy, but emotions utterly overwhelmed. “I’m ..” she began, but could not even speak the words that she was ‘fine’. She was so far from ‘fine’ right now that no word could have given an accurate description. “A few bumps and bruises, elbows, knees, nothing like ..” The young woman began to report and then broke off as she turned back to consider her friend.


“Thank you,” she managed, quietly, as the estranged ‘sibling’ freed Cali’s wrists also. “She’s worried about her arm. And I think she might have hit her head,” the observations became ever more quiet, as though Iole could somehow pass the information to Trev, without Cali hearing. Of course, she realised a moment later, that Cali didn’t seem entirely aware of what was going on. Which only reinforced suspicion of a head injury.

“Water, please,” she answered, meekly, as offer was made for resources. “I feel a little dizzy. And I’m sure she does too. You can feel dizzy and headache-y from dehydration,” she had learned and now recited, if a little vacantly. In any case, the water would help clean them up a little more. For a moment, Iole brought a hand up to her face and was about to ask Trev if she looked as frightful a state as Cali had. But then she recalled the damp bonnet. Her’s had not bloodied at all.


“It looks like it was a nose bleed,” she realised then, observing the crusted blood about her friend’s nostrils. That would certainly suggest a blow to the front of the head. “I’m going to have to check her arm, and she might pass out if it’s hurting her already. We will need water to rouse her. I don’t know ..” she dropped her hands a moment in her lap and sniffed forlornly as she admitted the sorry fact. Blue eyes pierced about the young man’s features as though he could provide any sort of explanation. How had a day at the fayre turned into … this ? What had even happened ? She couldn’t remember rightly .. not anything between the bloodied ropes and .. teetering woozily, Iole caught the palm of her unscarred hand against the floor. They were on a ship, she recalled. It wasn’t her. It was the boat which was swaying ..

“Will they come back ?” she did not want to know but could not ask. With a glance toward the door to the next cabin. That was the most important worry of course. Whether this was even over yet, or merely intermission.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Carpe Diem
|
Trev & Cali,
with Iole
On the pirate ship, Wingolost, anchored out of sight from Harlond
Last day of Autumn Fayre (last year)

Cali could hear two familiar voices, and somehow the one did not quite fit with what she thought was right. Because Trev was gone, away at sea. No one had heard from him, as far as Cali knew, and so she must be imagining things. But Iole was talking with him, and everything felt normal. In fact, if she'd heard Nal and Ryn talking together in the background, she hardly would have been surprised. It was like some of the times when they'd camp out in one of their backyards, or hang out together in the tree house. Or whatever. If not for the pain in her arm, she might have rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. As it was, she only closed her eyes and lay still, rather than turning over.

"Lowendir..." Trev repeated, frowning. His frown shifted into a scowl when she mentioned 'his father'. He clenched his jaw and managed to refrain from correcting her, since that was not really important at this time. What was important was getting Cali tended to, and figuring out a way to get them both out of here to safety.

He was relieved to hear that Iole was not injured beyond a few minor bruises, at least. But as he reached through the bars to help with Cali's ropes, he could see that there was something definitely wrong with her right arm, and it seemed to cause her pain. Now that her wrists were no longer bound together, it was easier to see the way it was bent at a weird way at the elbow. His frown took on a much more concerned tone. "I'd guess it wasn't her that hit her head, but someone else," He muttered, angered at the thought of one of his crewmates striking her. Or anyone, for that matter. "Her arm does look bad." He acknowledged when Iole mentioned that Cali was worried about it.

He gave a nod when she asked for water. "Of course." He answered, relieved that that, at least, was something he could get easily enough. "Yeah, that's true," He agreed, recalling from personal experience when she mentioned dehydration causing headaches and such. He moved for the door going into the crew quarters, and glanced around carefully to make sure it was still empty. Then he hurried over to his own sleeping area and grabbed a canteen that he kept tucked away, and hastened back to his spot outside the door. "Here." He passed it through the bars to Iole. "I just filled it this morning." He told her, glad he had done so.

Then, as Iole began listing off what she needed to do, and then stopped with 'I don't know...', Trev reached through to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort his sister, especially when he noticed her eyes welling up, and she seemed a bit unsteady. "Hey. It'll be alright." He said quietly. "I don't know how you two ended up here, but I'm going to do whatever I can to help you get away from here." He promised. He had helped others before. He could help them. He had to help them.

“Will they come back ?”

Trev hesitated at that question. But he wasn't going to lie to her. He nodded regretfully. "They will," He answered. "But I have an idea to keep them away from you. Don't worry." He smiled as reassuringly as he could. "I'll need to get back to the galley before those two come back," He said regretfully, a bit anxious to avoid getting caught in here. "But I'll grab some bandages and stuff, and I'll come back first chance I get. I'll try to make it quick." He promised, then paused before adding, "I don't know if I can manage to get the key, but I'll try." Because, although he'd had a few very basic 'lessons' in lockpicking, he had never quite managed to figure out how to pick the lock on this door, try as he might.

"Also," He added as he prepared to take off for his next 'mission', and motioned to one corner, which was padded with hay. "There's a little bit of food tucked away in that corner, if you're hungry." Having been locked up in here so many times, often for long periods without food, he had learned to keep a bit of a stash, tucked away in a box that would keep rats from getting into it. It was nothing very great, just the type of things that would keep for a while, but it was better than nothing.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Near the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

"Amardir Ansellidus," Macardil supplied at Aderic's question. "Which is the name your brother goes by in noble circles. How did he come by such a name, and such an inheritance, if his name is, in truth, Androllius?" Macardil suddenly wondered for the first time, even as he took a look at the maheshift map that Aderic had drawn of his route from the dungeons.

Now through the gate, Macardil narrowed his eyes at the stables. "Perhaps the coachman should stay here, with the wagon, and the horses," he suggested to Ziranphel. "What do you reckon, Ziran?" he inquired after her opinion.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

Aderic
Castle Ansellidus
Late Dec

Frowning, he listened to the lord's question and took a moment to think back to when he had asked a similar question, himself. Trying to recall exactly what his brother had told him. He shook his head slowly. "His name is Ademar, not Amardir," He explained, frowning in confusion. "In fact, that is the first that I've ever heard that name. Everyone here has always referred to him as Lord Ansellidus, in my hearing at least. And to me, he is always just 'Mar'." He hesitated. "Even Alyssa has only ever used that shortened form of his name, at least that I have heard. Which, of course, could be short for Amardir as well..." He realized. "But I assure you, Amardir is not my brother's name."

Ric drew a slow breath and tried not to let it out in a sigh, but it was getting more and more difficult. "As for the last name, I asked him the same question myself, when I first learned that he had.. inherited this estate and title and... all that." He frowned. "It seemed very strange to me that he should suddenly be a rich lord of a large castle, for we grew up in poverty on a farm that barely managed to sustain itself year to year. Our family could barely afford for even one of us to attend school, though my mother insisted we get an education, in hopes that at least one of us would do well in life." He stared down at the ground, a bit awkward to be speaking of that situation, and wondered when he'd gotten to be so free with his words. He cleared his throat and brought himself back on topic.

"When I asked Mar how in Arda he'd become lord of some big estate, he said that our great-uncle Alagion, whom we'd never met, had managed to track him down. He was, apparently, growing old in years and had no heir, and had been seeking for his nearest kin for some time. When his servants had confirmed that Mar was indeed his nearest relative, Alagion asked him to come and live at his estate and be his heir. As it turns out, our uncle was a Lord... he was the late Lord Alagion Ansellidus. Mar is technically the elder between us two, so.. I guess if Lord Alagion knew of me, he had less interest in me as an heir. Or that is what Mar guessed at, when I commented on it." He frowned as he thought back to that conversation, years ago."

Ric looked up then. "Even at the time that Mar told me all of this, I thought it seemed strange and surprising, but I had no cause to question that he would lie to me and make up such an incredible tale. After all, we do have a great uncle Alagion. I'd never heard much about him, however. Our parents would never speak of him. It was as if there was something they didn't want us to know." He frowned. "Mar told me that was the secret. That they didn't want us to know that our great-uncle was a rich lord, and that we needn't have grown up in such poverty.. he said that our uncle would have sent us gifts and things over the years if he had known where to find us, but that our parents had some grudge against him and had kept him from knowing where we lived, and so on." Ric shrugged. He had no idea whether any of that were true. "When I asked Mar why he was now using a last name that was not our own, he said something about how he had chosen to change his name to use his uncle's instead, because Lord Alagion had adopted him as his heir, and they wished to eliminate any undue confusion concerning the lordship."

Ric paused. "Oddly enough, my brother never thought to invite me to meet this uncle of ours, and by the time I learned anything about... any of this, Lord Alagion had passed away, and I had no opportunity to meet him. I always thought the entire thing seemed... unusual and curious, at best." He hesitated. "But, I know nothing of the ways of Nobility, and so I had no idea whether this might be a common thing among them. For the ways of higher-born folk have always seemed somewhat foreign to me. No offense, sir, ma'am." He dipped his head respectfully to the lord and lady who were at hand, hoping that his words would not upset them.

Looking up again, Ric continued quietly, "Furthermore, there was no one that I knew well enough, of whom I could ask such questions. For Reilly was.. no longer around." He added sadly. "Now, with everything that's happened in the past few months, added to everything I've been learning about my brother for the past year, my skepticism has grown into severe doubts and suspicion, and I have a feeling my brother has lied to me about it. Yet, what the truth of it all might be, I wouldn't know. And I have no idea how to prove any of it." He sighed, dropping his head in dismay at what seemed an overwhelming number of things to try to prove, somehow, with no idea how to actually prove any of them.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn , @Rillewen

Karis Ziranphel, Lady Himhathol
On the road to the Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

Let us pass through the gate. Ziran dipped her head in acknowledgement as she noted Macardil’s quiet tone in response. Her gaze rested on him in contemplation a moment as he moved to mount Nightshade, and then lifted to scan the parapets once again while the newly revealed Aderic retrieved his things from the guardhouse.

It didn’t take them long to proceed within the walls of the castle, and Ziran glanced around with some surprise at the quiet air of the place that was in contrast to the usual bustle of servants and guards that were frequently seen when visiting strongholds. She had been listening to the description of the castle layout and felt some concern about the reopened dungeons where they were most likely to encounter resistance. Bays would be a valuable resource if they needed directions, and perhaps that piece of paper Aderic was waving around would be helpful in finding the dungeon, although she couldn’t be sure without examining it.

When Macardil suggested that the coachman should stay with their horses after Aderic mentioned looking in the stable, Ziran nodded curtly before swinging down from her mount. “Aye, Macardil, although I would rather keep them at the ready and not stable them.” She shifted her attention to their coach driver as she withdrew her scabbarded sword from its bindings under the saddle skirt and began the process of belting it around her waist. “If you would inquire after grain and water and see to the horses needs, but otherwise keep them ready for our return journey, I would be grateful. If the situation changes and we are able to stay, we will let you know.” She wasn’t sure what he would think, but the man had seemed rather unflappable, and had the air of one who could take care of himself.

Ziran caught part of Aderic’s long-winded explanation to Macardil about the history of his brother’s name and his understanding of how he had become lord of this place, but she stayed silent as she removed her canteen for a long drink of water before replacing it and retrieving her bow and quiver to sling across her body instead, the drawstring that kept the arrows from shifting remaining in place for the time being. Inwardly, she marveled at the man’s loquaciousness, but knew that everyone responded to imprisonment and freedom differently. Adjusting her gloves, she replied quietly. “Thank you for sharing some of the history. How about we worry about further proof later and you show us the way to these dungeons first, unless we need to take a roundabout way for some reason? I don’t like standing in the open when there is any likelihood of opposition.” It made her spine crawl to be so exposed, but it didn’t show on her face.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Ansellidus estate in Lossarnach - Late December

"Regardless of his actual first name, he still goes by Amardir in Belfalas," Macardil pointed out stubbornly. When Aderic said that the ways of the nobility had always seemed 'somewhat foreign' to him, Macardil had to raise an eyebrow. He could understand that much. He was often not a big fan of those ways, himself. Aderic had worded it rather diplomatically.

Ziran's reply to his question made perfect sense to him, and he nodded his agreement to it, first toward his wife and then toward the coachman even as Ziran was speaking to him.

After that, she asked Aderic to show them the way to the dungeons. Macardil felt a kind of rush welling up inside of him, and he wanted nothing more than to agree and see with his own eyes whether or not Halberion was truly here. For even if all the signs were pointing to it that his best friend was here - it still felt surreal.

"As I understand it; from the guards who are currently on duty," Macardil wished to first create some clarity, "we have three men locked up in the gatehouse, Hankins here, and you are with us, Sergeant," he added with a nod at Bays. "That makes five. Where did you say the others who are currently awake, should be? There were four more of them, you mentioned earlier? And where would those be who are now asleep?" He glanced at Ziran. "I do not wish for any surprises, if we can avoid them," he explained.