Elendor
(Archive) Dunland's Past Haunts and Burns
Tet'Nak, newly returned warrior of Dunland, speaks with I'racil about Dunland's history.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Dunland - Harthunn Fortress Courtyard
Game Date: Day 25 of April
IC Time: Nighttime
Description: Middle-earth time is:
Nighttime on Trewsday, Day 25 of April.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 13:54:20 MDT on Thu Sep 30 2004.
Dunland <> - Harthunn Fortress Courtyard
The thick walls of this place bear witness to its purpose as a border fort. The courtyard contained within is paved with grey stone, and a square tower looms in the background, its solid stone construction making it seem to almost have sprung up from the rocky earth of the area. Several large trees grow in the courtyard, providing shade in the summer, and offsetting the austerity of the place.
In the daylight you notice that the stone blocks are weathered, as if they were the remnants of some older fortress.
Contents:
I'racil
Cortheon
Obvious exits:
Double Doors leads to Main Hall -- Harthunn Fortress <>.
Southern Gate House leads to Old South Road - Dunland <>.
Northern Gate House leads to Old South Road at the Fort.
Stairs leads to Watch Tower -- Harthunn Fortress <>.
The winter has past, and now spring is upon Dunland. Though cold winds blow, mostly the last signs of winter are fading with the melting of snow and the birth of foilage. Seated, cross-legged, is Tet'Nak. His eyes peer out from beneath shaggy brows that are spackled with grey.
Training seems a constant here, and watching is the old warrior recently returned to Dunland from the swamps of Enedwaith, and apparantly a historical death that never was.
His fingers play with a silver piece, currency mostly unknown in Dunland, save to those of true power.
Another figure, not as storied as the first, watches as well, but where the first seems content to watch the second is keen to make his criticism know. "You'll never be a member of the Watch if you don't start showing me something," he bawls in the face of one of the men. "You're slow, weak, and stupid." He just a finger towards a group of men sparring. "Now get out of my face!"
Shaking his head slowly the Commander then turns and let's his eyes roam about the courtyard finally settling his gaze upon the seated Tet'Nak. His expression changes little and he slowly begins making his way in the other's direction.
"Slow, weak, and stupid," repeats Tet'Nak as the Commander approaches. "I think you described them well." Shrugging, the older man stands from his spot, replacing the blade somewhere within the folds of his cloak. "Warriors without experiences are either dead or lucky, eh?"
Tet'Nak crosses his arms over his chest, simply waiting for whomever this figure is that barks at the young and foolish warriors of Dunland's north.
I'racil stops a few paces before the man and crosses his own arms over his chest. "Some of would know more about death than others," he says. "Unless I'm mistaken you would be, Tet'Nak," he says. "Jarrett told me I might run into you." A hand lifts to bat a lock of hair from his eyes. "Seems that all the old stories are coming to life," he says with a soft snort. "First you, now Asher. By Kiern I wouldn't be surprised if the MacMathain's came passing through next."
Nodding, Tet'Nak affirms I'racil's assumption. "Indeed, Tet'Nak I am." He pauses, "Yes ... Asher. My old chieftain. I hear he is a man of Kiern now?" He starts laughing, "How people change. How people change for their own best interests."
"I do not think ol' Robert is alive," Tet'Nak speaks of the old Bear chieftain. He would be very old now, and, I had heard he and his cousin, Hakuna, were both killed in Caerdh years ago."
I'racil gives a soft chuckle at the last words from the man. "Well," he says slowly, "hearing that one is dead does not always make them so. If it did then both you and Asher would be corpses." His dark eyes move over the man before him and chuckles once more. "You seem a bit too solid to be a ghost, and I have not drank enough to be seeing things. So, I must assume that the stories of your death are just that, stories."
With a loud clearing of his throat he turns his head spits to the cobblestones. "What brings you here?" he asks. "I doubt you have come seeking information on the Priesthood and the spiritual wellbeing of Dunland, as Asher has."
Tet'Nak smiles, showing strangely well-kept teeth, "True. Burnt, mangled, whatever. Dunland has a strange way of thinking people dead, only to have them return. A great method to save yourself is to disapear until things have calmed."
The older man waves his arms, "No, not a ghost, although I have been called worse. But I have been gone many years ... and I am afraid I know not who I speak to. I would not want to tell all my most personal secrets to a complete stranger."
I'racil nods. "I'racil. Once Fian of the Bear now Commander of the Stag Watch," he replies with a slight grimace at the mention of the Bear. "I have employed that very method myself in the past," he says grinning slightly, his own teeth splintered and yellowed. "Though trying to convince everyone that I was not a ghost or an imposter quickly grew to be a pain in the arse afterwards."
Tet'Nak shakes his head, "Bear and Stag? That is strange. Perhaps you will have to explain that to me." He looks around, as if searching for anyone watching, "I have been back in Dunland much longer than anyone knows. In disguise, making sure it was safe for my return. I deemed it so, and here I am, openly myself walking amongst the people of Dunland that I have long ... tried to protect."
I'racil gives a light shrug of his shoulders. "One could say it as almost as strange as being Stag and Wulf," he replies with a raised brow. "Sometimes we need take what shelter is offered, as I am sure you are well aware." The Commander then raises a hand to his chin and scratches lightly at his beard. "What exactly is it that you deem we need protected against?" he asks. "The orcs are held back for now and the thrice damned forgoil have made little problem for us. Is there some other threat that only you know of?"
"There are threats everywhere," Tet'Nak says with a frown. "Always, through war, or more more subtle ambitions." Tet'Nak points to the south, "Do you truly think Dunland is safe? The Forgoil have are orgainzed calvarymen that make most of Dunlending solider's look like toddlers on the tit." He sighs, "If the had a notion to /invade/, Dunland would be crushed. The orcs? Yes, Dunland keeps them at bay, but only because they are not organized and only look for resources, sheep, and the lot, and not conquest."
"Then of course there are those spies always roaming our lands. Those that I battled in the old days, Caermin, Bronwyn, and Aselwyn."
I'racil turns to look fully upon Tet'Nak and raises a brow. "And Giric...." he adds to the list of names the other states. Then he gives a soft sigh and nods. "If the forgoil chose to invade Dunland we would have no hope to stand against them. I have known this for many years. What more can we do than we already have?" he asks. "The Chieftain's are too caught up in their own struggles for power to unite and we do not have the men or the equipment to face the forgoil head on." Another shrug of his shoulders, "We can only continue to train and hope that our luck holds out."
"And Giric," repeats Tet'Nak, "But Giric was more mislead to Bronwyn's will than anything else. It was through Giric's protection that she was left to haunt Dunland." He spits, "Her hair was even blond!" Shaking his head, "But Giric's death caused much chaos throughout Dunland, and I indeed had to leave, until now."
"Our luck will hold, until our raids anger them so much that they decide to simply wipe us out. Complete annihalation." He waves a hand over the ground, "Our land? They care not, for what fertile patches of livable land we have is few and far between. That is one thing that has held our luck. It is the very thing we hate, being outcast here, that has saved us for hundreds of years."
I'racil grunts softly and waves away the man's comments concerning Giric. "You need not convince me that Giric needed to die," he says. "I know the man only from tales I have heard, but if he were half as great as the Stag claim he would have made something more of the clan than he did."
His eyes then fall to the ground and he digs at the soil with the toe of one boot as his brow furrows in thought. "We need to conduct those raids to survive," he says. "As you said we don't have the land to support the people who live in Dunland now. Without the food and livestock taken on those raids . . ." he shakes his head and allows his words to trail off. "If you have an answer as to how we can survive without raiding the forgoil, or better yet know how we can defeat them once for all, I would like to hear it."
Tet'Nak laughs for a short moment, "I am but one, old, man." He stretches his arms out, yawning as he does so. "We must continue to raid, indeed, or become befriended by the Forgoil." He starts laughing, "And we know that will never happen, not from Rohan or Dunland."
"I have no answer, I have only questions. There are certainly wiser than I, but few that has seen more. Plague, war, civil war, and plenty of other things ... I am here to protect Dunland, and that I will do, but to win back the lands we once held? We would need much aid from allies we do not have."
I'racil gives a soft snort. "Who will we turn to for allies?" he asks. "The only land nearby we do not fight with is Bree and I doubt they would last long in a fight." He jerks his head back towards the training Watch. "The best of what Bree has would fall short of the worst of these." The Commander shakes his head and sighs softly. "You see the problems the same as I do, but with no answers nothing will change." He gives a chuckle and then grins. "Perhaps we should all become more like Asher and look to Kiern to save us."
"Bree?" Tet'Nak starts laughing again, "Yes, halfling and half-wits are not exactly what I was talking about." He takes a deep breath, "You are right. There are few allies, very few that would help us in our plight. Kiern? Well, we have not won our lands back in hundreds of years, what says he will show us favor now or in the future?" Shaking his head, "The whole of Dunland thought Kiern's avatar was sent to guide us, that Bear, Sivern. And what was he, either mad, a spy, or both. It matters little, we will do what we must." His head nods, "If you would excuse me, I have business with the local armorer."
I'racil nods softly as Tet'Nak asks to be excused. With a soft chuckle he calls after the man, "Just play nice. I've heard you have a tendency to remove the heads of smiths." The smile fades though and the Commander's brow furrows in thought once more as he muses over the words of the man.
Nighttime on Trewsday, Day 25 of April.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 13:54:20 MDT on Thu Sep 30 2004.
Dunland <> - Harthunn Fortress Courtyard
The thick walls of this place bear witness to its purpose as a border fort. The courtyard contained within is paved with grey stone, and a square tower looms in the background, its solid stone construction making it seem to almost have sprung up from the rocky earth of the area. Several large trees grow in the courtyard, providing shade in the summer, and offsetting the austerity of the place.
In the daylight you notice that the stone blocks are weathered, as if they were the remnants of some older fortress.
Contents:
I'racil
Cortheon
Obvious exits:
Double Doors leads to Main Hall -- Harthunn Fortress <>.
Southern Gate House leads to Old South Road - Dunland <>.
Northern Gate House leads to Old South Road at the Fort.
Stairs leads to Watch Tower -- Harthunn Fortress <>.
The winter has past, and now spring is upon Dunland. Though cold winds blow, mostly the last signs of winter are fading with the melting of snow and the birth of foilage. Seated, cross-legged, is Tet'Nak. His eyes peer out from beneath shaggy brows that are spackled with grey.
Training seems a constant here, and watching is the old warrior recently returned to Dunland from the swamps of Enedwaith, and apparantly a historical death that never was.
His fingers play with a silver piece, currency mostly unknown in Dunland, save to those of true power.
Another figure, not as storied as the first, watches as well, but where the first seems content to watch the second is keen to make his criticism know. "You'll never be a member of the Watch if you don't start showing me something," he bawls in the face of one of the men. "You're slow, weak, and stupid." He just a finger towards a group of men sparring. "Now get out of my face!"
Shaking his head slowly the Commander then turns and let's his eyes roam about the courtyard finally settling his gaze upon the seated Tet'Nak. His expression changes little and he slowly begins making his way in the other's direction.
"Slow, weak, and stupid," repeats Tet'Nak as the Commander approaches. "I think you described them well." Shrugging, the older man stands from his spot, replacing the blade somewhere within the folds of his cloak. "Warriors without experiences are either dead or lucky, eh?"
Tet'Nak crosses his arms over his chest, simply waiting for whomever this figure is that barks at the young and foolish warriors of Dunland's north.
I'racil stops a few paces before the man and crosses his own arms over his chest. "Some of would know more about death than others," he says. "Unless I'm mistaken you would be, Tet'Nak," he says. "Jarrett told me I might run into you." A hand lifts to bat a lock of hair from his eyes. "Seems that all the old stories are coming to life," he says with a soft snort. "First you, now Asher. By Kiern I wouldn't be surprised if the MacMathain's came passing through next."
Nodding, Tet'Nak affirms I'racil's assumption. "Indeed, Tet'Nak I am." He pauses, "Yes ... Asher. My old chieftain. I hear he is a man of Kiern now?" He starts laughing, "How people change. How people change for their own best interests."
"I do not think ol' Robert is alive," Tet'Nak speaks of the old Bear chieftain. He would be very old now, and, I had heard he and his cousin, Hakuna, were both killed in Caerdh years ago."
I'racil gives a soft chuckle at the last words from the man. "Well," he says slowly, "hearing that one is dead does not always make them so. If it did then both you and Asher would be corpses." His dark eyes move over the man before him and chuckles once more. "You seem a bit too solid to be a ghost, and I have not drank enough to be seeing things. So, I must assume that the stories of your death are just that, stories."
With a loud clearing of his throat he turns his head spits to the cobblestones. "What brings you here?" he asks. "I doubt you have come seeking information on the Priesthood and the spiritual wellbeing of Dunland, as Asher has."
Tet'Nak smiles, showing strangely well-kept teeth, "True. Burnt, mangled, whatever. Dunland has a strange way of thinking people dead, only to have them return. A great method to save yourself is to disapear until things have calmed."
The older man waves his arms, "No, not a ghost, although I have been called worse. But I have been gone many years ... and I am afraid I know not who I speak to. I would not want to tell all my most personal secrets to a complete stranger."
I'racil nods. "I'racil. Once Fian of the Bear now Commander of the Stag Watch," he replies with a slight grimace at the mention of the Bear. "I have employed that very method myself in the past," he says grinning slightly, his own teeth splintered and yellowed. "Though trying to convince everyone that I was not a ghost or an imposter quickly grew to be a pain in the arse afterwards."
Tet'Nak shakes his head, "Bear and Stag? That is strange. Perhaps you will have to explain that to me." He looks around, as if searching for anyone watching, "I have been back in Dunland much longer than anyone knows. In disguise, making sure it was safe for my return. I deemed it so, and here I am, openly myself walking amongst the people of Dunland that I have long ... tried to protect."
I'racil gives a light shrug of his shoulders. "One could say it as almost as strange as being Stag and Wulf," he replies with a raised brow. "Sometimes we need take what shelter is offered, as I am sure you are well aware." The Commander then raises a hand to his chin and scratches lightly at his beard. "What exactly is it that you deem we need protected against?" he asks. "The orcs are held back for now and the thrice damned forgoil have made little problem for us. Is there some other threat that only you know of?"
"There are threats everywhere," Tet'Nak says with a frown. "Always, through war, or more more subtle ambitions." Tet'Nak points to the south, "Do you truly think Dunland is safe? The Forgoil have are orgainzed calvarymen that make most of Dunlending solider's look like toddlers on the tit." He sighs, "If the had a notion to /invade/, Dunland would be crushed. The orcs? Yes, Dunland keeps them at bay, but only because they are not organized and only look for resources, sheep, and the lot, and not conquest."
"Then of course there are those spies always roaming our lands. Those that I battled in the old days, Caermin, Bronwyn, and Aselwyn."
I'racil turns to look fully upon Tet'Nak and raises a brow. "And Giric...." he adds to the list of names the other states. Then he gives a soft sigh and nods. "If the forgoil chose to invade Dunland we would have no hope to stand against them. I have known this for many years. What more can we do than we already have?" he asks. "The Chieftain's are too caught up in their own struggles for power to unite and we do not have the men or the equipment to face the forgoil head on." Another shrug of his shoulders, "We can only continue to train and hope that our luck holds out."
"And Giric," repeats Tet'Nak, "But Giric was more mislead to Bronwyn's will than anything else. It was through Giric's protection that she was left to haunt Dunland." He spits, "Her hair was even blond!" Shaking his head, "But Giric's death caused much chaos throughout Dunland, and I indeed had to leave, until now."
"Our luck will hold, until our raids anger them so much that they decide to simply wipe us out. Complete annihalation." He waves a hand over the ground, "Our land? They care not, for what fertile patches of livable land we have is few and far between. That is one thing that has held our luck. It is the very thing we hate, being outcast here, that has saved us for hundreds of years."
I'racil grunts softly and waves away the man's comments concerning Giric. "You need not convince me that Giric needed to die," he says. "I know the man only from tales I have heard, but if he were half as great as the Stag claim he would have made something more of the clan than he did."
His eyes then fall to the ground and he digs at the soil with the toe of one boot as his brow furrows in thought. "We need to conduct those raids to survive," he says. "As you said we don't have the land to support the people who live in Dunland now. Without the food and livestock taken on those raids . . ." he shakes his head and allows his words to trail off. "If you have an answer as to how we can survive without raiding the forgoil, or better yet know how we can defeat them once for all, I would like to hear it."
Tet'Nak laughs for a short moment, "I am but one, old, man." He stretches his arms out, yawning as he does so. "We must continue to raid, indeed, or become befriended by the Forgoil." He starts laughing, "And we know that will never happen, not from Rohan or Dunland."
"I have no answer, I have only questions. There are certainly wiser than I, but few that has seen more. Plague, war, civil war, and plenty of other things ... I am here to protect Dunland, and that I will do, but to win back the lands we once held? We would need much aid from allies we do not have."
I'racil gives a soft snort. "Who will we turn to for allies?" he asks. "The only land nearby we do not fight with is Bree and I doubt they would last long in a fight." He jerks his head back towards the training Watch. "The best of what Bree has would fall short of the worst of these." The Commander shakes his head and sighs softly. "You see the problems the same as I do, but with no answers nothing will change." He gives a chuckle and then grins. "Perhaps we should all become more like Asher and look to Kiern to save us."
"Bree?" Tet'Nak starts laughing again, "Yes, halfling and half-wits are not exactly what I was talking about." He takes a deep breath, "You are right. There are few allies, very few that would help us in our plight. Kiern? Well, we have not won our lands back in hundreds of years, what says he will show us favor now or in the future?" Shaking his head, "The whole of Dunland thought Kiern's avatar was sent to guide us, that Bear, Sivern. And what was he, either mad, a spy, or both. It matters little, we will do what we must." His head nods, "If you would excuse me, I have business with the local armorer."
I'racil nods softly as Tet'Nak asks to be excused. With a soft chuckle he calls after the man, "Just play nice. I've heard you have a tendency to remove the heads of smiths." The smile fades though and the Commander's brow furrows in thought once more as he muses over the words of the man.
Players: Tet'Nak, I'racil
Located in: Dunlending
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