Elendor
Word of an Attack
The hunter Dunsten arrives in Edoras after riding hard from the Gap of Rohan, bringing word to Faestred and Caldwine of an attack to the west.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Edoras
Game Date: March 3046
Description:
[Faestred(#31903)]
The afternoon air hangs chill and damp, a somber blanket of grey over the plains of the Mark, just a bare breeze fluttering the highest banners of the King's City. The brown grasses lay flattened still from winter's snows, though there is the faint sweet taint of spring rising from the earth, and beneath the thick net of last year's long dead stems, young shoots rise tender and green. The year's earliest foals frolick alongside their dams in a distant herd of greys, the mares pushing aside the old forage to clip greedily at the new beneath, their breaths misting softly into the air.
Green gaze turned wistfully upon the grazing herd, a man clad in the mail of a Rider of the East rides along the road towards Edoras city's gates. Without helm, his hair of straw gold is seen to be flecked with a tinge of grey, and his face, though handsome, is worn with many a winter. Yet still he sits tall, shoulders ever squared proudly. His long limbed stallion, dappled silver grey, strides lazily, as if there is a reluctance to both the man and horse in returning.
The rhythm of hoofbeats strikes a distinctive note in this peaceful setting, the sound of someone riding steadily, if not hard. Coming down the road from the west, a rider emerges, on a dark horse, cloak streaming behind him.
[Faestred(#31903)]
At the sound of the rapid drumming of hooves, the first man's head turns to mark the oncoming rider. Where the roads meet and them climb to the gates, he draws his steed to a halt, the stallion's sigh sending a puff of mist from each nostril. The weariness of the road, the age that seemed upon his face, is pushed from his features as the rider approaches, and he waits stern and proud upon his sleek grey. A hand is lifted to greet the other man, voice calling out carrying and full, but without yelling, "Hail, Rider of the West-mark!" he greets, marking the man's uniform. "What news brings you to Edoras city in such haste, through such a bitter spring?"
"Hail, kinsman!" the approaching rider lifts his hand, returning the greeting. His horse, which he now slows to a walk, tosses its head and snorts in protest. Though his features are hidden by helm and the hood of his cloak, he lifts a hand to push back the hood as he approaches.
"There is trouble in the West, by the Gap. An attack, and our patrol forced back. I was sent to bring word."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"An attack at the Gap? Do the Dunlendings press there?" Lifting his reins, the man of the East turns his stallion to match walk with the messenger, up the ascent to the gates. The grey's step lifts as the dark horse nears, his neck arching and ears pricking, nostrils flared to catch the other's scent. Brows furrowed, the man glances over at the younger Rider. "Are you the first to bring word of this, or is this trouble already known to the captains in the city?"
"Not known," the rider answers. He reaches over to pat his mount's neck. "I am the first to bring word, thanks to my good steed here. That and I am not a Rider by trade, and so it was deemed that I should go."
"It is the Dunlendings, yes," he continues. "Came at us with several tricks, trying to trap us into investigating a fire in the distance."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Then you should hasten to take word to the Meduseld. I do not know which aethelwigends of the West there are in the city, as I have been away for some weeks, and am but a maegisterwigend of the East. Still, I shall help you seek out one of your captains, that aid can be dispatched as quickly as it may." The man is frowning ahead at the gates, his brow creased and his eyes shadowed at this news. "I am not familiar with the trickery of Dunland, only the cunning of orcs... but a fire, you say? How distant from our borders would you guess? Do they intend to bring fire to the fields of the Westfold?"
"Aye, I hasten there, though my horse and I have traveled hard for two days now. But I thank you for your help--may I know your name? I...a fire, maybe a quarter mile distant from our camp, trying to draw part of our strength off while the rest of their group attack. As for their fires, I am not certain, but our patrol leader bid me seek help and quickly, so perhaps yes." The young man fails to give his own name, distracted by the questions and his task at hand.
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Faestred Maegisterwigend, son of Faldweld, am I." Answers the East-marker promptly with a dip of his head. "The eoscealcs in the stables here are some of the most knowledgable in the Mark they will see that your horse is well tended while we see that word is brought to those who need hear it." He pauses, then casts a glance aside to the young rider. "And who shall the King and his captains thank for bringing this news that the West may be aided?"
"I am Dunsten, Hunta, son of Forstwine and brother of Caldwine," the younger man answers, his chest puffing out with some pride as he does so. "And I may seek out my brother first, for the King...well, my brother is wiser in these matters. But well met to you, sir."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Aaah," A thin smile pulls Faestred's lips. "Your brother is not unknown to me. Well met to you also, Forstwineson. Come," he adds then, gently nudging his stallion forward, who still seems a little put off at the prospect of entering the city. "Let us delay not in bringing our mounts to the stables, then we shall seek out your brother." The great grey steps up into a light jog. As the pair pass the gates, Faestred lifts a hand in greeting to the guards, who though watchful, do not bar their passage.
"Seems that way with most I meet in regard to the long shadows cast by my brother and father..." Dunsten speaks plainly enough, though his expression bears the trace of a slight scowl. But there is a task at hand to be done, and perhaps a reason for the young man to prove himself, so he says no more and instead follows Faestred's lead.
*******************************
[Caldwine(#31345)] It is not unusual on chilly, damp afternoons to find the people of Edoras finding their ways into the taverns of the city. Thus it is not all that surprising that a small party of Riders exit the Sleeping Stallion Inn, looking more well-fed than drunk... unlike some others that occasionally come out. But, then, it is only the afternoon...
The leader of the four Riders is a Maegisterwigend particularly, it is Caldwine Maegisterwigend of Boar Patrol. Carrying on with some discussion or another with one of his men, his eyes briefly sweep the Square before he continues on his way.
In the square this afternoon is a man of similar looks to the Maegisterwigend, though considerably younger. Hood down, helm tucked under his arm, hair matted with sweat, Dunsten seems to be in a hurry as he strides through the city quickly--though he also seems to be scanning the faces of those passing him by. Unfortunately, though, he is not turned toward Caldwine, and misses the man entirely as he sweeps through the square.
[Caldwine(#31345)] "It is not all that difficult, Daegmund it is just a matter of hitting the target correctly and having the strength to follow through. It is as much about finesse as strength, like many other things: fix your mind upon the target, make the initial strike and then the follow through. Strike so he does not get back up, then move on," The voice belongs to Caldwine, speaking to a Rider from his Patrol. "Do not let the charge bog down into a duel hit your target and on the next section of the charge, find yourself another one. Only when the battle is bogged down and we can no longer charge should you focus on one target."
Dunsten may be in a rush--but how many times has he heard that lecture or a similar one given by his brother or father? Likely more times than he can count, for now, as the young man is about to leave the Square, he stops suddenly, blinks, then turns. "Caldwine!" The shout cuts across the noise of the square, and Dunsten rushes toward the Rider.
[Caldwine(#31345)] Whatever else the Maegisterwigend might be able to say to the Rider he's giving the lecture to is cutoff by the shout of Dunsten. The man turns, a slightly quizical look upon his face before he sees his brother, a grin flashing on his face. "Ah, Dunsten! I trust any venison you have set your eye to has not escaped your skill?"
"Venison, aye, but Dunlendings, nay, I am sorry to report. Caldwine," Dunsten says breathlessly, as if he has been running--and there is sweat glistening on his brow and matting down his hair--"there is trouble in the West and I am sent to bring word. To the King. Will you bring it for me? I...well, I open my mouth and my foot appears in it."
[Caldwine(#31345)] The good humour disappears from the Maegisterwigend's face at the mention of 'Dunlendings' and 'trouble'. A frown comes onto the man's face before he lets out a slow breath. "I see. What is the trouble, Dunsten?" An eyebrow is briefly arched before he shakes his head slightly. "It is not my news to bring, brother. I can, however, give you some advice: when speaking to those of rank or deserved of respect, stick to the facts and do not let any negative feelings show. And, I shall go with you if I am able, but it is you that needs to bear the news."
"This I will do," Dunsten says, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. "I rode with Coenred to west, hunting along the way and learning whatever he could teach me. We were camped near the Gap..a cold night, and we had fires going, when in the distance, perhaps a quarter mile from us, a field caught on fire. But it was a trap, and men came at us in the dark, with spears and swords. We mounted and formed up, but they were in the woods around us. I fought, Caldwine!" Dunsten says, unable to suppress a grin. "Nearly got killed, but I bested the man. And then..well, we retreated. There were too many of them, and we drew back. Coenred sent me to get aid, and I have ridden for two days, wearing my horse near dead, I fear."
[Caldwine(#31345)] A quiet laugh comes from the Maegisterwigend and he nods his head. "Very good, Dunsten! It matters not that you nearly got killed he is dead and you are not. Take to heart your mistakes and learn from them, and you will no doubt become the skilled fighter." Another grin is flashed by Caldwine before he nods. "The right decision it is no use fighting outnumbered in the woods, particularly if it is an ambush. It is the stuff tales are made of sure but they are rarely told by the participants..."
The man falls silent for a few moments before he nods. "The news is rather disturbing. I shall have Boar formed up and ready to ride when the King sends reinforcements and you, my brother, shall come with us. I trust you are resting your horse?"
"But I had him! We had them! We almost had the day!" Dunsten protests, obviously frustrated by the outcome. "Though he got my spear..."
"But yes," the young man brightens, "my mount is being well cared for, as Faestred Faldweldson advised me he would be. But...I will ride with you and the Boar patrol and be well pleased by it. I will not disappoint you, Caldwine, I promise."
Then, dismayed, the youth looks down at his travel and sweat-stained garb. "I see the King in this state? The news seems fairly urgent.."
[Caldwine(#31345)] "Any time the enemy choses the battlefield, Dunsten, you do not know if he has more than he is showing upon the field. What if there had been hundreds of Dunelendings just waiting for the patrol to take the bait of such an action? And while their numbers could have been as you seen them... it is better to fight your way clear than let the enemy control your actions."
The Maegisterwigend falls silent for a few moments before he nods. "I do not doubt it, Dunsten. And, yes... I have met Faestred. He and I exchanged blows in a spar to determine who would accompany the King upon his circuit. We both won, as did members of our Patrols..." A slow grin comes onto the man's face before he chuckles. "Ah. One might say that would better reinforce the urgency of the matter... but, clean yourself up. Quickly. Then we shall seek the King."
"Then let me use your quarters to do so, but with haste. And a fresh shirt if I can borrow one, for though my horse is a swift and sure mount, I have no desire to go before the King stinking of two days of horse and man sweat. I must reek like a barn or worse by now," Dunsten grins quickly.
Not waiting for the other's reply, he turns to head that way. "You will teach me more of these things? Sparring is one thing, actual battle quite different, and I have had little practice. Coenred obliged me by allowing me to ride with him, but...I fear he sent me back as messenger because I was more hindrance than help."
[Caldwine(#31345)] "Yes, by all means I should have a shirt or two you are able to wear. As for that, I will instruct you as much as I can after we see the King before, if there is some delay. And on the ride there, you will learn much. At the end of it, we shall see if you can stand your own better this time."
The Maegisterwigend flashes a grin before he glances to his Riders. "Find the other men assemble them and explain the situation. Hopefully, there shall be little delay and the message shall be sent to the King and we shall know his will. Quickly now!" That said, the other Riders hurry off to carry out the Maegisterwigend's orders.
"Oh, I am certain you will have lots to say. Two days of riding, and many things to say," Dunsten says, rolling his eyes, but grinning nonetheless. "And are your shirts clean? You found a pretty woman here to launder them yet? Mayhaps you can instruct me in how to go about finding that, as well."
Despite the bantering, though, the younger man waits impatiently to accompany Caldwine to his quarters. "Will this help me in the eyes of the King? Erase some of the scorn I gained?"
[Caldwine(#31345)] Once the men are off, the Maegisterwigend begins to make his way to his own place of residence in the city. "They are clean, yes I always have spares ready in case anything should happen. Like getting ale spilt on me in a tavern. And... perhaps." The man shrugs slightly before he chuckles to himself. "Every man has his own approach to that, Dunsten, and not every man's manner will work for another. Myself, I rely on my charm." Another grin is briefly flashed before he shrugs slightly once more. "Perhaps that is my hope. Delivering the news yourself, I mean, rather than cleaned up and in clean clothes. Two days hard riding, stopping only for sleep and to make yourself presentable... it would be looked upon favourably by many, I would think you are dedicated to delivering your message."
"Then I will go in these clothes," Dunsten says, changing his mind abruptly. "Let not the King have cause to scorn me for taking more care of my appearance than for the lives of my kinsmen. For, as you say, who knows what the Dunlendings were planning or are planning, indeed? Coenred and the rest of his Riders may already be hard pressed or worse, and every minute I stop to fuss like a woman over my dress is one more that our foes might be using against us. No.." he turns to head back the other direction. "Come with me now and wait while I beg an audience with the King. Or find me another horse to ride? For mine is too worn out for a hard ride west again so soon. I will seek you in the stables when I am through?"
[Faestred(#31903)]
The afternoon air hangs chill and damp, a somber blanket of grey over the plains of the Mark, just a bare breeze fluttering the highest banners of the King's City. The brown grasses lay flattened still from winter's snows, though there is the faint sweet taint of spring rising from the earth, and beneath the thick net of last year's long dead stems, young shoots rise tender and green. The year's earliest foals frolick alongside their dams in a distant herd of greys, the mares pushing aside the old forage to clip greedily at the new beneath, their breaths misting softly into the air.
Green gaze turned wistfully upon the grazing herd, a man clad in the mail of a Rider of the East rides along the road towards Edoras city's gates. Without helm, his hair of straw gold is seen to be flecked with a tinge of grey, and his face, though handsome, is worn with many a winter. Yet still he sits tall, shoulders ever squared proudly. His long limbed stallion, dappled silver grey, strides lazily, as if there is a reluctance to both the man and horse in returning.
The rhythm of hoofbeats strikes a distinctive note in this peaceful setting, the sound of someone riding steadily, if not hard. Coming down the road from the west, a rider emerges, on a dark horse, cloak streaming behind him.
[Faestred(#31903)]
At the sound of the rapid drumming of hooves, the first man's head turns to mark the oncoming rider. Where the roads meet and them climb to the gates, he draws his steed to a halt, the stallion's sigh sending a puff of mist from each nostril. The weariness of the road, the age that seemed upon his face, is pushed from his features as the rider approaches, and he waits stern and proud upon his sleek grey. A hand is lifted to greet the other man, voice calling out carrying and full, but without yelling, "Hail, Rider of the West-mark!" he greets, marking the man's uniform. "What news brings you to Edoras city in such haste, through such a bitter spring?"
"Hail, kinsman!" the approaching rider lifts his hand, returning the greeting. His horse, which he now slows to a walk, tosses its head and snorts in protest. Though his features are hidden by helm and the hood of his cloak, he lifts a hand to push back the hood as he approaches.
"There is trouble in the West, by the Gap. An attack, and our patrol forced back. I was sent to bring word."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"An attack at the Gap? Do the Dunlendings press there?" Lifting his reins, the man of the East turns his stallion to match walk with the messenger, up the ascent to the gates. The grey's step lifts as the dark horse nears, his neck arching and ears pricking, nostrils flared to catch the other's scent. Brows furrowed, the man glances over at the younger Rider. "Are you the first to bring word of this, or is this trouble already known to the captains in the city?"
"Not known," the rider answers. He reaches over to pat his mount's neck. "I am the first to bring word, thanks to my good steed here. That and I am not a Rider by trade, and so it was deemed that I should go."
"It is the Dunlendings, yes," he continues. "Came at us with several tricks, trying to trap us into investigating a fire in the distance."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Then you should hasten to take word to the Meduseld. I do not know which aethelwigends of the West there are in the city, as I have been away for some weeks, and am but a maegisterwigend of the East. Still, I shall help you seek out one of your captains, that aid can be dispatched as quickly as it may." The man is frowning ahead at the gates, his brow creased and his eyes shadowed at this news. "I am not familiar with the trickery of Dunland, only the cunning of orcs... but a fire, you say? How distant from our borders would you guess? Do they intend to bring fire to the fields of the Westfold?"
"Aye, I hasten there, though my horse and I have traveled hard for two days now. But I thank you for your help--may I know your name? I...a fire, maybe a quarter mile distant from our camp, trying to draw part of our strength off while the rest of their group attack. As for their fires, I am not certain, but our patrol leader bid me seek help and quickly, so perhaps yes." The young man fails to give his own name, distracted by the questions and his task at hand.
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Faestred Maegisterwigend, son of Faldweld, am I." Answers the East-marker promptly with a dip of his head. "The eoscealcs in the stables here are some of the most knowledgable in the Mark they will see that your horse is well tended while we see that word is brought to those who need hear it." He pauses, then casts a glance aside to the young rider. "And who shall the King and his captains thank for bringing this news that the West may be aided?"
"I am Dunsten, Hunta, son of Forstwine and brother of Caldwine," the younger man answers, his chest puffing out with some pride as he does so. "And I may seek out my brother first, for the King...well, my brother is wiser in these matters. But well met to you, sir."
[Faestred(#31903)]
"Aaah," A thin smile pulls Faestred's lips. "Your brother is not unknown to me. Well met to you also, Forstwineson. Come," he adds then, gently nudging his stallion forward, who still seems a little put off at the prospect of entering the city. "Let us delay not in bringing our mounts to the stables, then we shall seek out your brother." The great grey steps up into a light jog. As the pair pass the gates, Faestred lifts a hand in greeting to the guards, who though watchful, do not bar their passage.
"Seems that way with most I meet in regard to the long shadows cast by my brother and father..." Dunsten speaks plainly enough, though his expression bears the trace of a slight scowl. But there is a task at hand to be done, and perhaps a reason for the young man to prove himself, so he says no more and instead follows Faestred's lead.
*******************************
[Caldwine(#31345)] It is not unusual on chilly, damp afternoons to find the people of Edoras finding their ways into the taverns of the city. Thus it is not all that surprising that a small party of Riders exit the Sleeping Stallion Inn, looking more well-fed than drunk... unlike some others that occasionally come out. But, then, it is only the afternoon...
The leader of the four Riders is a Maegisterwigend particularly, it is Caldwine Maegisterwigend of Boar Patrol. Carrying on with some discussion or another with one of his men, his eyes briefly sweep the Square before he continues on his way.
In the square this afternoon is a man of similar looks to the Maegisterwigend, though considerably younger. Hood down, helm tucked under his arm, hair matted with sweat, Dunsten seems to be in a hurry as he strides through the city quickly--though he also seems to be scanning the faces of those passing him by. Unfortunately, though, he is not turned toward Caldwine, and misses the man entirely as he sweeps through the square.
[Caldwine(#31345)] "It is not all that difficult, Daegmund it is just a matter of hitting the target correctly and having the strength to follow through. It is as much about finesse as strength, like many other things: fix your mind upon the target, make the initial strike and then the follow through. Strike so he does not get back up, then move on," The voice belongs to Caldwine, speaking to a Rider from his Patrol. "Do not let the charge bog down into a duel hit your target and on the next section of the charge, find yourself another one. Only when the battle is bogged down and we can no longer charge should you focus on one target."
Dunsten may be in a rush--but how many times has he heard that lecture or a similar one given by his brother or father? Likely more times than he can count, for now, as the young man is about to leave the Square, he stops suddenly, blinks, then turns. "Caldwine!" The shout cuts across the noise of the square, and Dunsten rushes toward the Rider.
[Caldwine(#31345)] Whatever else the Maegisterwigend might be able to say to the Rider he's giving the lecture to is cutoff by the shout of Dunsten. The man turns, a slightly quizical look upon his face before he sees his brother, a grin flashing on his face. "Ah, Dunsten! I trust any venison you have set your eye to has not escaped your skill?"
"Venison, aye, but Dunlendings, nay, I am sorry to report. Caldwine," Dunsten says breathlessly, as if he has been running--and there is sweat glistening on his brow and matting down his hair--"there is trouble in the West and I am sent to bring word. To the King. Will you bring it for me? I...well, I open my mouth and my foot appears in it."
[Caldwine(#31345)] The good humour disappears from the Maegisterwigend's face at the mention of 'Dunlendings' and 'trouble'. A frown comes onto the man's face before he lets out a slow breath. "I see. What is the trouble, Dunsten?" An eyebrow is briefly arched before he shakes his head slightly. "It is not my news to bring, brother. I can, however, give you some advice: when speaking to those of rank or deserved of respect, stick to the facts and do not let any negative feelings show. And, I shall go with you if I am able, but it is you that needs to bear the news."
"This I will do," Dunsten says, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. "I rode with Coenred to west, hunting along the way and learning whatever he could teach me. We were camped near the Gap..a cold night, and we had fires going, when in the distance, perhaps a quarter mile from us, a field caught on fire. But it was a trap, and men came at us in the dark, with spears and swords. We mounted and formed up, but they were in the woods around us. I fought, Caldwine!" Dunsten says, unable to suppress a grin. "Nearly got killed, but I bested the man. And then..well, we retreated. There were too many of them, and we drew back. Coenred sent me to get aid, and I have ridden for two days, wearing my horse near dead, I fear."
[Caldwine(#31345)] A quiet laugh comes from the Maegisterwigend and he nods his head. "Very good, Dunsten! It matters not that you nearly got killed he is dead and you are not. Take to heart your mistakes and learn from them, and you will no doubt become the skilled fighter." Another grin is flashed by Caldwine before he nods. "The right decision it is no use fighting outnumbered in the woods, particularly if it is an ambush. It is the stuff tales are made of sure but they are rarely told by the participants..."
The man falls silent for a few moments before he nods. "The news is rather disturbing. I shall have Boar formed up and ready to ride when the King sends reinforcements and you, my brother, shall come with us. I trust you are resting your horse?"
"But I had him! We had them! We almost had the day!" Dunsten protests, obviously frustrated by the outcome. "Though he got my spear..."
"But yes," the young man brightens, "my mount is being well cared for, as Faestred Faldweldson advised me he would be. But...I will ride with you and the Boar patrol and be well pleased by it. I will not disappoint you, Caldwine, I promise."
Then, dismayed, the youth looks down at his travel and sweat-stained garb. "I see the King in this state? The news seems fairly urgent.."
[Caldwine(#31345)] "Any time the enemy choses the battlefield, Dunsten, you do not know if he has more than he is showing upon the field. What if there had been hundreds of Dunelendings just waiting for the patrol to take the bait of such an action? And while their numbers could have been as you seen them... it is better to fight your way clear than let the enemy control your actions."
The Maegisterwigend falls silent for a few moments before he nods. "I do not doubt it, Dunsten. And, yes... I have met Faestred. He and I exchanged blows in a spar to determine who would accompany the King upon his circuit. We both won, as did members of our Patrols..." A slow grin comes onto the man's face before he chuckles. "Ah. One might say that would better reinforce the urgency of the matter... but, clean yourself up. Quickly. Then we shall seek the King."
"Then let me use your quarters to do so, but with haste. And a fresh shirt if I can borrow one, for though my horse is a swift and sure mount, I have no desire to go before the King stinking of two days of horse and man sweat. I must reek like a barn or worse by now," Dunsten grins quickly.
Not waiting for the other's reply, he turns to head that way. "You will teach me more of these things? Sparring is one thing, actual battle quite different, and I have had little practice. Coenred obliged me by allowing me to ride with him, but...I fear he sent me back as messenger because I was more hindrance than help."
[Caldwine(#31345)] "Yes, by all means I should have a shirt or two you are able to wear. As for that, I will instruct you as much as I can after we see the King before, if there is some delay. And on the ride there, you will learn much. At the end of it, we shall see if you can stand your own better this time."
The Maegisterwigend flashes a grin before he glances to his Riders. "Find the other men assemble them and explain the situation. Hopefully, there shall be little delay and the message shall be sent to the King and we shall know his will. Quickly now!" That said, the other Riders hurry off to carry out the Maegisterwigend's orders.
"Oh, I am certain you will have lots to say. Two days of riding, and many things to say," Dunsten says, rolling his eyes, but grinning nonetheless. "And are your shirts clean? You found a pretty woman here to launder them yet? Mayhaps you can instruct me in how to go about finding that, as well."
Despite the bantering, though, the younger man waits impatiently to accompany Caldwine to his quarters. "Will this help me in the eyes of the King? Erase some of the scorn I gained?"
[Caldwine(#31345)] Once the men are off, the Maegisterwigend begins to make his way to his own place of residence in the city. "They are clean, yes I always have spares ready in case anything should happen. Like getting ale spilt on me in a tavern. And... perhaps." The man shrugs slightly before he chuckles to himself. "Every man has his own approach to that, Dunsten, and not every man's manner will work for another. Myself, I rely on my charm." Another grin is briefly flashed before he shrugs slightly once more. "Perhaps that is my hope. Delivering the news yourself, I mean, rather than cleaned up and in clean clothes. Two days hard riding, stopping only for sleep and to make yourself presentable... it would be looked upon favourably by many, I would think you are dedicated to delivering your message."
"Then I will go in these clothes," Dunsten says, changing his mind abruptly. "Let not the King have cause to scorn me for taking more care of my appearance than for the lives of my kinsmen. For, as you say, who knows what the Dunlendings were planning or are planning, indeed? Coenred and the rest of his Riders may already be hard pressed or worse, and every minute I stop to fuss like a woman over my dress is one more that our foes might be using against us. No.." he turns to head back the other direction. "Come with me now and wait while I beg an audience with the King. Or find me another horse to ride? For mine is too worn out for a hard ride west again so soon. I will seek you in the stables when I am through?"
Players: Faestred,Caldwine,Dunsten
Located in: Rohirrim
