Elendor
What News?
The Ranger Gurtir returns to Osgiliath and speaks with March Warden Tarachim about the strange lack of orc activity of late, then the two men learn odd news of Rohan from the Scout Ceredir.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Gondor: Osgiliath
IC Time: Afternoon
Description: Osgiliath: Eastern Ruins - Outside the Tumbled Wall
This area, to the east of the walls of Osgiliath, is merely a torn mesh of ground and the occassional broken stones. Once the proud walls stood high to the west, cradling the eastern half of the city protectively. But no more. Now those same walls are a shadow of their former selves broken and scarred beyond repair, their stones lay tumbled over one another like feeble elderly people, to tired to stand. Pieces of them have been strewn far into this area as the architecture was ripped up to serve other means. The grass, only growing in scant clumps, seems sickly and afraid of the open air. It is daytime.
(RP in progress already)
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"None."
Careful still, though trusting the cover of the scouts' bows, the Rangers enter Osgiliath, quickly falling into new covers. Gurtir follows the March Warden, his low whisper picking up conversation. "We bring but hunger and tiredness. How have things been here?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] Tarachim, the March-Warden, snorts softly at the response to his question before he gives his own whispered response. "I do not like that. The Garden has been too quiet for my liking." The March-Warden moves back under cover, a few more hand gestures sending the two bow-armed Scouts to better positions for watching, before he turns his attention once more to Gurtir.
"Osgiliath has largely been quiet, sir... aside from a skirmish or two with a troll. The ruins have, so far, suffered rather little foulness from the East." A grunt comes from the man. "Just makes me all the more cautious and suspicious."
"Sir..if I may?" The words are whispered from behind Tarachim as the scout Ceredir hears the conversation between March-Warden and Ranger. He is not armed with a bow here, but longsword, and so has been spending his time watching and listening. "I have news from my trip to Rohan, if that is helpful. The Ranger Endaerion thought I should report it to command." A muscle in Ceredir's face twitches as he says that ranger's name.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Though the Ranger's eyes still roam about, aware of the surroundings, they take a while to focus upon Tarachim's face as he is done speaking. For some seconds, they examine the man just as attentively as they had been examining the Garden, and Gurtir nods, "I'd expect no less from a hardened officer."
"There's something highly elusive out there. We've met mixed trails, tracks that went on and on and then just disappeared--", his speech falls into silence as the Scout requests attention.
"Let us then move further West. Have you an underling to command this sentinel unit, March Warden?" he looks fully to the Scout, "Be prepared to start it all from the very begining, for it's been long since I last set foot out of the Garden."
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Amlimir." The March-Warden gestures slightly to a Master-Scout a little further on in the ruins, who soon moves to join the small group. "He is well qualified to hold here." He turns his attention, then, to the Master-Scout. "Continue to hold here, Amlimir. I will make sure that two more are sent out this way to keep you up to full strength." The grim-faced Master-Scout simply nods before he moves back to his position.
The March-Warden turns his attention briefly to Ceredir, eyes narrowing at the corners slightly before he nods, glancing to Gurtir briefly. "Let us go, then." With that, he moves off in crouched, almost lopping pace through the ruins, towards the bridge and the garrison beyond.
Osgiliath: Western Ruins - Gondorian Garrison
Amidst the ruins of the former splendour that was Gondor's capital of old is a fully-operational battle camp. At least a dozen tents are scattered around the ruins of the city here, each flying a small pennon of the White Tree on a black field that flaps in the daytime breeze. Guards in similar livery patrol the area here, dressed at all times in shining silver mail and with Halberds on their shoulders.
The guards here seem very uneasy, though they try to hide it...their gazes cannot help but hover eastwards, to the black wall of the Ephel Duath and the dark land that those mountains enclose..
Even on a cloudless, sun-filled day such as this, a dim haze seems to hover over the mountains to the east...a haze that darkens as one's gaze moves further and further into the skies of the black land. Perhaps it is a trick of the eye, but there is a dull red glimmer on the eastern horizon...
[Tarachim(#19338)] The group arrives in the Garrison, the March-Warden lowering his hood shortly afterwards helmet and mask are removed as well. Tarachim gestures to two Scouts that he passes, sending them on their way eastwards, while another is sent off to get food for the Rangers. Helmet tucked under his arm, the March-Warden makes his way to one of the small cooking fire pits that are scattered about, sitting on a piece of fallen rubble nearby as he looks to Ceredir.
"So. What news from Rohan?" Soon, the Scout that the March-Warden had sent off for food reappears, carrying a small pot of stew in one hand, and bowls and spoons in the other. These are set down and, with a salute, the Scout goes back to whatever his other duties were.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
The Rangers say no word. They merely sit down besides Tarachim and remove their masks, revealing untended beards and dirty faces, which they wipe as they glance at Ceredir, waiting for his report.
Helmet and mask in hand, Ceredir remains standing, though his eyes flicker hungrily to the food once ere he answers. "I went on a patrol in the marshes..." he starts, then shakes his head, looking to Gurtir for a moment. "To start from the beginning, that is, the Rangers Laeghen and Endaerion had some sort of business with their houses in Rohan. A trade agreement, I think it was--something about House Rovacil, too. Daerien was sent to be their envoy, to negotiate the agreement, and since I had received an invitation previously to go to Rohan, Laeghen allowed me to go along as well. I used the trip to gain a better understanding of the Horse Lords patrol and fighting techniques..."
A smile briefly crosses Ceredir's face, but he blinks it away, continuing. "...and went out on patrol with them to look into some suspected orc activity in the marshes of their borders. We did indeed come on a troop of orcs, but when our bowmen shot at them, they didn't return the volley. We had to dismount to pursue them, but they never fought. They killed their own instead."
[Tarachim(#19338)] A frown comes onto the March-Warden's face as Ceredir speaks, a slightly puzzled glance sent briefly to Gurtir. "Strange behaviour from orcs... not fighting?" A breath is slowly released by the man before he speaks again, looking to Ceredir. "Is there anything you might have seen that could have explained this? Protecting something, or the like?" He pauses briefly before speaking again, a slight smile coming onto his face as he looks to the others.
"They should kill themselves more often saves us the trouble."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Orderly, the Rangers reach out for the food, listening to what Ceredir says. Catching the scout's stare at the food, Gurtir motions for him to seat, "Part bread with us, Brother.", his glance invites Tarachim as well, and he falls silent again, waiting for the Scout's reply to the March-Warden's quesitons.
"Thank you sir," Ceredir nods to the Ranger, but he stays standing where he is for the moment, brow furrowed as he thinks. "No....there was a thick fog, impossible to see through. And the horses couldn't ride into the marshes--that would have been the perfect trap. They were hiding in the trees as it were, and came at us, but then, the head of one got cut off ...from behind."
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden does not move either he hardly gives the food a second glance. The frown, however, remains upon his face. "Most unusual... perhaps our allies in Rohan have something in their marshes they have not told us about that makes orcs turn and flee rather than fight." A brief note of humour enters the man's voice before he shakes his head. "Doubtful, though. So... a group of orcs that flees rather than fight, and kills their own... either they were leading you into a trap, or they had something better to do. Or information to get back." Tarachim shrugs his shoulders slightly.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Gurtir bites his bread, chewing it ravenously as he listens to the men musing. Then he nods slowly, "Most doubtful indeed. What time was it when such event happened?"
He now takes a sip of water, "And what was the Rohirrim description of suspect activity, before you went in the said patrol?"
"Morning, actually," Ceredir answers, grinning briefly at Tarachim's attempt at humor. "I suppose you could count their horses. They are weapons in and of themselves, but not a secret, of course." The Scout shifts nervously at Gurtir's query, giving the Ranger a quick sideways glance and reaching for a piece of bread. "Birds. Sir."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"Pray elaborate.", Gurtir says simply inbetween two mouthfuls of bread, a light frown crowining him as he exchanges glances with the other Rangers, "And you, March Warden, I rather like your guessing. Though what information?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Birds?" An eyebrow is arched briefly by the March-Warden before he glances to Gurtir, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Patrol timing, strengths and weaknesses of certain areas, martial readiness, vulnerable towns and other similar such things. Useful things that are good to know if you're going to attack."
"The Rider Faestred--he said that they don't patrol those marshes much, because it would be hard for the enemy to make its way through there, save by small boats. That and their horses can't maneuver in the muck. Yet the orcs we came upon seem to be a well ordered trooop," Ceredir says, tearing off a piece of bread and hastily eating it between his words.
He eyes Gurtir again, not blinking. "Birds, sir. Their...well...their scop. A man named Hraefengar. He sees things in dreams, things that turn out to be true..." The scout frowns as his attention briefly turns inward. "Though in this case, he spotted flocks of birds, disturbed, in flight in the direction of the marshes. And their king sent a patrol to check it out."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Eyes fixed upon Tarachim: "You then believe they might be planning an attack on Rohan?". Gurtir turns to Ceredir, contemplating the latest informations, "It is strange that the birds would fly to the marshes, rather than from the marshes... how are the Rohirrim crops, their horse herds, Scout?"
The Ranger then pauses, as one who has remembered an important thing, "I haven't heard your names yet, Brothers. I am Gurtir and these are Gaerwen, Azrathel and Ninoeron."
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden shrugs his shoulders slightly. "I would not complete discount such an occurance, but I could not say that it was a sure thing. It would seem to be a viable theory, however, considering they were fleeing without fighting if they had to carry such information." The man falls silent for a few moments before he speaks again. "Tarachim of the Carmayar."
"No sir, they were marsh birds, disturbed in their roosts in the swamps and circling over the area in a way that they usually do not," the Scout answers, adding after a small pause, "I am Ceredir. Son of Elenur of Bragollach." Those words contain more than a hint of anger and bitterness, but it is gone as he continues. "I am not sure, sir. I wasn't there long enough, though I did get invited to return there and train with them. One of their riders...I think saved a Lady of Gondor, and he requested that I name him personally to Laeghen and make the request." Ceredir shrugs, as if he doesn't expect that request to be met.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Gurtir ponders about what is said in silence, before asking as he motions to get some stew in a bowl, "And what was Endaerion's judgement of the matter?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden falls silent, an eyebrow arched slightly as he looks to Ceredir. A slight grunt is all he gives in the way of his thoughts for the moment, frown upon his face once more as he awaits the answer to the Ranger's question.
Ceredir's eyes go cold. "He said to report it to Command. And that was it, sir," his tone cold, as well. Again a short pause and he continues, only thoughtful now. "If things are quiet here and the orcs seem to be scouting Rohan...why not send a small group further east than usual and try to see what the enemy is organizing?"
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"I would have you, Ceredir, repeat this strange tale to Lord Captain, so that little be lost of its truth, as it certainly would if told again by another, as well intentioned as he could be." Gurtir tells the Scout and turns to the March Warden, "Meanwhile, Tarachim, what say you of Ceredir's suggestion? It would do us great good, gathering some men and seeing what news can be brought from Northern Ithilien, if any strange movement can be spotted and so on."
Falling silent to listen as his superiors talk, Ceredir helps himself to some stew and continues to listen.
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Further than we normally go? I would not recommend it it could be a trap to lure us to do exactly that and then deliver the heavy end of the hammer." A slight scowl comes upon the March-Warden's face for a few moments. "Yet, I will organize some patrols into Ithilien and will coordinate with Cair Andros in the matter, as well."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"Very well then. The matter is in your hands until further notice, Tarachim. Raise the scouts you need, speak to the Rangers you must.", says Gurtir, standing up, "Send messengers frequently to keep us informed so that we may the best decide how to act."
He nods at his comrade Rangers- one still eats, the other likewise rises- and then bows his head, "Until we speak again, Brothers."
This area, to the east of the walls of Osgiliath, is merely a torn mesh of ground and the occassional broken stones. Once the proud walls stood high to the west, cradling the eastern half of the city protectively. But no more. Now those same walls are a shadow of their former selves broken and scarred beyond repair, their stones lay tumbled over one another like feeble elderly people, to tired to stand. Pieces of them have been strewn far into this area as the architecture was ripped up to serve other means. The grass, only growing in scant clumps, seems sickly and afraid of the open air. It is daytime.
(RP in progress already)
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"None."
Careful still, though trusting the cover of the scouts' bows, the Rangers enter Osgiliath, quickly falling into new covers. Gurtir follows the March Warden, his low whisper picking up conversation. "We bring but hunger and tiredness. How have things been here?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] Tarachim, the March-Warden, snorts softly at the response to his question before he gives his own whispered response. "I do not like that. The Garden has been too quiet for my liking." The March-Warden moves back under cover, a few more hand gestures sending the two bow-armed Scouts to better positions for watching, before he turns his attention once more to Gurtir.
"Osgiliath has largely been quiet, sir... aside from a skirmish or two with a troll. The ruins have, so far, suffered rather little foulness from the East." A grunt comes from the man. "Just makes me all the more cautious and suspicious."
"Sir..if I may?" The words are whispered from behind Tarachim as the scout Ceredir hears the conversation between March-Warden and Ranger. He is not armed with a bow here, but longsword, and so has been spending his time watching and listening. "I have news from my trip to Rohan, if that is helpful. The Ranger Endaerion thought I should report it to command." A muscle in Ceredir's face twitches as he says that ranger's name.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Though the Ranger's eyes still roam about, aware of the surroundings, they take a while to focus upon Tarachim's face as he is done speaking. For some seconds, they examine the man just as attentively as they had been examining the Garden, and Gurtir nods, "I'd expect no less from a hardened officer."
"There's something highly elusive out there. We've met mixed trails, tracks that went on and on and then just disappeared--", his speech falls into silence as the Scout requests attention.
"Let us then move further West. Have you an underling to command this sentinel unit, March Warden?" he looks fully to the Scout, "Be prepared to start it all from the very begining, for it's been long since I last set foot out of the Garden."
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Amlimir." The March-Warden gestures slightly to a Master-Scout a little further on in the ruins, who soon moves to join the small group. "He is well qualified to hold here." He turns his attention, then, to the Master-Scout. "Continue to hold here, Amlimir. I will make sure that two more are sent out this way to keep you up to full strength." The grim-faced Master-Scout simply nods before he moves back to his position.
The March-Warden turns his attention briefly to Ceredir, eyes narrowing at the corners slightly before he nods, glancing to Gurtir briefly. "Let us go, then." With that, he moves off in crouched, almost lopping pace through the ruins, towards the bridge and the garrison beyond.
Osgiliath: Western Ruins - Gondorian Garrison
Amidst the ruins of the former splendour that was Gondor's capital of old is a fully-operational battle camp. At least a dozen tents are scattered around the ruins of the city here, each flying a small pennon of the White Tree on a black field that flaps in the daytime breeze. Guards in similar livery patrol the area here, dressed at all times in shining silver mail and with Halberds on their shoulders.
The guards here seem very uneasy, though they try to hide it...their gazes cannot help but hover eastwards, to the black wall of the Ephel Duath and the dark land that those mountains enclose..
Even on a cloudless, sun-filled day such as this, a dim haze seems to hover over the mountains to the east...a haze that darkens as one's gaze moves further and further into the skies of the black land. Perhaps it is a trick of the eye, but there is a dull red glimmer on the eastern horizon...
[Tarachim(#19338)] The group arrives in the Garrison, the March-Warden lowering his hood shortly afterwards helmet and mask are removed as well. Tarachim gestures to two Scouts that he passes, sending them on their way eastwards, while another is sent off to get food for the Rangers. Helmet tucked under his arm, the March-Warden makes his way to one of the small cooking fire pits that are scattered about, sitting on a piece of fallen rubble nearby as he looks to Ceredir.
"So. What news from Rohan?" Soon, the Scout that the March-Warden had sent off for food reappears, carrying a small pot of stew in one hand, and bowls and spoons in the other. These are set down and, with a salute, the Scout goes back to whatever his other duties were.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
The Rangers say no word. They merely sit down besides Tarachim and remove their masks, revealing untended beards and dirty faces, which they wipe as they glance at Ceredir, waiting for his report.
Helmet and mask in hand, Ceredir remains standing, though his eyes flicker hungrily to the food once ere he answers. "I went on a patrol in the marshes..." he starts, then shakes his head, looking to Gurtir for a moment. "To start from the beginning, that is, the Rangers Laeghen and Endaerion had some sort of business with their houses in Rohan. A trade agreement, I think it was--something about House Rovacil, too. Daerien was sent to be their envoy, to negotiate the agreement, and since I had received an invitation previously to go to Rohan, Laeghen allowed me to go along as well. I used the trip to gain a better understanding of the Horse Lords patrol and fighting techniques..."
A smile briefly crosses Ceredir's face, but he blinks it away, continuing. "...and went out on patrol with them to look into some suspected orc activity in the marshes of their borders. We did indeed come on a troop of orcs, but when our bowmen shot at them, they didn't return the volley. We had to dismount to pursue them, but they never fought. They killed their own instead."
[Tarachim(#19338)] A frown comes onto the March-Warden's face as Ceredir speaks, a slightly puzzled glance sent briefly to Gurtir. "Strange behaviour from orcs... not fighting?" A breath is slowly released by the man before he speaks again, looking to Ceredir. "Is there anything you might have seen that could have explained this? Protecting something, or the like?" He pauses briefly before speaking again, a slight smile coming onto his face as he looks to the others.
"They should kill themselves more often saves us the trouble."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Orderly, the Rangers reach out for the food, listening to what Ceredir says. Catching the scout's stare at the food, Gurtir motions for him to seat, "Part bread with us, Brother.", his glance invites Tarachim as well, and he falls silent again, waiting for the Scout's reply to the March-Warden's quesitons.
"Thank you sir," Ceredir nods to the Ranger, but he stays standing where he is for the moment, brow furrowed as he thinks. "No....there was a thick fog, impossible to see through. And the horses couldn't ride into the marshes--that would have been the perfect trap. They were hiding in the trees as it were, and came at us, but then, the head of one got cut off ...from behind."
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden does not move either he hardly gives the food a second glance. The frown, however, remains upon his face. "Most unusual... perhaps our allies in Rohan have something in their marshes they have not told us about that makes orcs turn and flee rather than fight." A brief note of humour enters the man's voice before he shakes his head. "Doubtful, though. So... a group of orcs that flees rather than fight, and kills their own... either they were leading you into a trap, or they had something better to do. Or information to get back." Tarachim shrugs his shoulders slightly.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Gurtir bites his bread, chewing it ravenously as he listens to the men musing. Then he nods slowly, "Most doubtful indeed. What time was it when such event happened?"
He now takes a sip of water, "And what was the Rohirrim description of suspect activity, before you went in the said patrol?"
"Morning, actually," Ceredir answers, grinning briefly at Tarachim's attempt at humor. "I suppose you could count their horses. They are weapons in and of themselves, but not a secret, of course." The Scout shifts nervously at Gurtir's query, giving the Ranger a quick sideways glance and reaching for a piece of bread. "Birds. Sir."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"Pray elaborate.", Gurtir says simply inbetween two mouthfuls of bread, a light frown crowining him as he exchanges glances with the other Rangers, "And you, March Warden, I rather like your guessing. Though what information?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Birds?" An eyebrow is arched briefly by the March-Warden before he glances to Gurtir, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Patrol timing, strengths and weaknesses of certain areas, martial readiness, vulnerable towns and other similar such things. Useful things that are good to know if you're going to attack."
"The Rider Faestred--he said that they don't patrol those marshes much, because it would be hard for the enemy to make its way through there, save by small boats. That and their horses can't maneuver in the muck. Yet the orcs we came upon seem to be a well ordered trooop," Ceredir says, tearing off a piece of bread and hastily eating it between his words.
He eyes Gurtir again, not blinking. "Birds, sir. Their...well...their scop. A man named Hraefengar. He sees things in dreams, things that turn out to be true..." The scout frowns as his attention briefly turns inward. "Though in this case, he spotted flocks of birds, disturbed, in flight in the direction of the marshes. And their king sent a patrol to check it out."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Eyes fixed upon Tarachim: "You then believe they might be planning an attack on Rohan?". Gurtir turns to Ceredir, contemplating the latest informations, "It is strange that the birds would fly to the marshes, rather than from the marshes... how are the Rohirrim crops, their horse herds, Scout?"
The Ranger then pauses, as one who has remembered an important thing, "I haven't heard your names yet, Brothers. I am Gurtir and these are Gaerwen, Azrathel and Ninoeron."
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden shrugs his shoulders slightly. "I would not complete discount such an occurance, but I could not say that it was a sure thing. It would seem to be a viable theory, however, considering they were fleeing without fighting if they had to carry such information." The man falls silent for a few moments before he speaks again. "Tarachim of the Carmayar."
"No sir, they were marsh birds, disturbed in their roosts in the swamps and circling over the area in a way that they usually do not," the Scout answers, adding after a small pause, "I am Ceredir. Son of Elenur of Bragollach." Those words contain more than a hint of anger and bitterness, but it is gone as he continues. "I am not sure, sir. I wasn't there long enough, though I did get invited to return there and train with them. One of their riders...I think saved a Lady of Gondor, and he requested that I name him personally to Laeghen and make the request." Ceredir shrugs, as if he doesn't expect that request to be met.
[Gurtir(#30678)]
Gurtir ponders about what is said in silence, before asking as he motions to get some stew in a bowl, "And what was Endaerion's judgement of the matter?"
[Tarachim(#19338)] The March-Warden falls silent, an eyebrow arched slightly as he looks to Ceredir. A slight grunt is all he gives in the way of his thoughts for the moment, frown upon his face once more as he awaits the answer to the Ranger's question.
Ceredir's eyes go cold. "He said to report it to Command. And that was it, sir," his tone cold, as well. Again a short pause and he continues, only thoughtful now. "If things are quiet here and the orcs seem to be scouting Rohan...why not send a small group further east than usual and try to see what the enemy is organizing?"
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"I would have you, Ceredir, repeat this strange tale to Lord Captain, so that little be lost of its truth, as it certainly would if told again by another, as well intentioned as he could be." Gurtir tells the Scout and turns to the March Warden, "Meanwhile, Tarachim, what say you of Ceredir's suggestion? It would do us great good, gathering some men and seeing what news can be brought from Northern Ithilien, if any strange movement can be spotted and so on."
Falling silent to listen as his superiors talk, Ceredir helps himself to some stew and continues to listen.
[Tarachim(#19338)] "Further than we normally go? I would not recommend it it could be a trap to lure us to do exactly that and then deliver the heavy end of the hammer." A slight scowl comes upon the March-Warden's face for a few moments. "Yet, I will organize some patrols into Ithilien and will coordinate with Cair Andros in the matter, as well."
[Gurtir(#30678)]
"Very well then. The matter is in your hands until further notice, Tarachim. Raise the scouts you need, speak to the Rangers you must.", says Gurtir, standing up, "Send messengers frequently to keep us informed so that we may the best decide how to act."
He nods at his comrade Rangers- one still eats, the other likewise rises- and then bows his head, "Until we speak again, Brothers."
Players: Gurtir,Tarachim,Ceredir
