Elendor
Another Human on the Rim
Keldean meets someone new! And he's not an elf!
Sort Date: no date set
Location: The Rim of the Valley
Description:
There's a lone tent pitched along the rim of the valley. It's elven in make and design, but it's a teenaged human that sits in front of a small fire outside. He's wearing warm woolen shirt and tunic, also of elven make, and has some woven elven blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He's sitting alone, poking at the small blaze with a stick, looking terribly bored as the stars twinkle overhead and a faint elven song drifts up from the Last Homely House far below.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Even as the verdant foliage parts to make way for a figure clad in earthen tones and forest greens, not a sound is made for the art of stealth is heavy upon his mind tonight. What rain may fall is spared from his eyes by the heavy cowl of his cloak drawn down over his face, shadows masking him safe for a jaw rife with stubble and the callousness of the road. He nears the camp and observes it from his hiding place, an elf-tent but no elven lad is the figure he sees there.
Soundless he remains for the moment, watching out of grim-faced curiosity.
Keldean is quite sick of all the rain, and really should have retreated back into the tent.. but it has been small sprinkles off and on, and the teen is drastically sick of the interior of the constructed shelter. He seems quite oblivious to much beyond the hungering flames, and is amusing himself by poking at one of the logs and sending sparks swirling into the air.
The grim figure secluded in the woods steps forth with little fanfare. At one moment there is naught but trees, bushes and long grasses then the next a figure is stepping across the clearing and approaching the flickering flames. He pauses on the outskirts of the light given off by the fire, although still visible beneath the starlight he does not enter the warmth the camp gives just yet. He waits a moment, as though expecting invitation before he requests it outright.
"Would you consider it ill," he asks, voice low and without mirth despite the merry presence of the Last Homely House below, "To share your fire with me a moment so that I might warm myself?"
Keldean doesn't respond because he's so blinded by the bright sparks of the fire in front of him that he never sees the stranger approach. The teen jumps when a voice splits the air, looking up sharply to find the voice that is -not- the lilt of an elven speaker. He studies Morfinion almost accusingly in silence for a long moment, his dark eyes traveling to the sword that the man wears. Finally, the youth gestures towards the fire. "Sure.. go ahead."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Thank you," he replies quietly, taking a seat on the earth with no measure of discomfort and lifting his hands to warm them by the fire. He glances up briefly towards the youth, drawing the hood of his cloak up slightly to shed more light on his features.
"What brings you so far?"
Keldean watches the ranger quietly, a wariness as he studies the man. "I thought to visit someone, but they aren't here anymore." He answers carefully. "What about you? Why don't you have any elves guiding you?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"They are but they thought to venture ahead down into the Valley once evening was upon our company," Morfinion answers, and while there is no truth in what he says he speaks it with no less conviction than would a man speaking the honest truth, "And I am woodsman enough to dwell here on the edge of the wilderness with no fear of meeting dangers so great they could not be overcome."
He holds his hands out towards the fire, warming them and rubbing them together from time to time, "Who is your friend, if I may ask?"
"Oh.. they do not watch you?" Keldean asks, glancing up at the stranger again, suspiciously. Then he looks around at the darkness beyond the firelight, as if expecting elves to pop out of the shadows. But they are not around. At least, within sight. Elathrad is rarely gone for very long. "Not a friend.. so much. He goes by Seeker."
The swiftly brightening sky shows that the sun has risen behind the clouds.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Seeker, you say?"
He considers this a moment and shakes his head, "The name is not familiar to me, nor have I heard it before. But should I hear tell of a 'Seeker' then I shall let them know that you are looking for them. What name do you go by, Elf-Friend?"
"He also is known as Rhifaroth.. That's what the elves call him." Keldean explains, lifting up the stick he was holding earlier and holding the tip in the flames. "My name is Keldean." He glances up expectantly, waiting for the stranger to provide his own.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Keldean," the stranger says, as though committing the name to memory, "Now I know by what two names this acquaintance of your's goes and I shall do my best to let them know that Keldean seeks them should our paths cross before your own."
He contemplates the pause left in which to supply his own name, "Thistlewool I am called."
"You don't have to let him know. It's okay. I think I know where to find him.. " Keldean answers, frowning. "I would rather he didn't know that I'm looking for him." The teen adds, elaborating.
"Thistlewool? Is that a nickname?.." He studies the man, tapping the stick on a log thoughtfully. "Are you a ranger?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Then I shall speak no more of it," 'Thistlewool' commits when Keldean makes mention of not wishing to alert the person he is looking for, "But my eyes shall remain open all the same."
To the question he offers something of a laugh, not a bitter thing but it lacks merriment, "I have come to think the Rangers stuff of legends ... and even if they are not, I am not counted amongst their number."
"Really.. ?" Keldean asks, still gazing at the man. "You look like one. And you have a name like one." He points out. The stick is stuffed deeper into the fire and the teen shifts to sit back more comfortably. "Why are you here?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Oh, like so many I am drawn by a want for council and curiosity," 'Thistlewool' answers with a slight lift and shrug of his shoulders, disregarding the comment that he looks like a Ranger, "I was fortunate enough to meet a Company of Elves along the road ... or should I say they saw fit to make their presence known. By what roads did you come here?"
"I'm.. not sure. The East Road, I guess. I think.." Keldean chews on his lower lip, watching Morfinion closely. "Where are you from? Most people where I'm from barely know anything about the elves.." The teen goes on to ask another question without waiting for a response, "How did you know where to go?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"The truth is that I did not," 'Thistlewool' answers with an honest shrug of his shoulders, the grim tone of his voice lightening a shade, "It was a happy accident that I was met by the Elves when I was or I would still be wandering the Wood. As for knowing much of the manner of elves, I only know what I have seen and heard these last few weeks that I have been in their company. I do know that their music is as fair as they themselves and it does lighten the heart to hear it."
As much as he may speak of fair music lightening his burden, by any account he does not appear to be lighthearted at all.
Keldean looks skeptical by these answers, a heavy does of distrust still on his young face but the skepticism seems to ebb quickly. "So you've never been here before?" He asks in a puzzled tone. "Why are you waiting here, then? Are you not allowed to go down?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I would not say I am banned from venturing down," he says with a shake of his head, turning a grey-eyed gaze towards the Valley below, "But that I felt it best to wait until my hosts saw fit to summon me and offer their hospitality. Until then I am comfortable with dwelling on the edge of the wild."
"Oh.." Keldean mulls this over and seems to accept it, and much of his suspicion eases now. "You didn't say where you're from. You could stay here, if you want. I have a lot of furs and blankets, in the tent." The teen offers, an eagerness in his voice.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Oh, I wouldn't want to encroach too much on your hospitality - I've already shared your fire and questioned you about your journey," Thistlewool says with a shake of his head, carefully skirting around the question of where he comes from.
"But tell me - why do you dwell on the edge of the Valley? Surely the homes of the elves are far more becoming than than the rainy wilderness?"
"I don't mind." Keldean answers quickly, with just the faintest hint of desperation in his voice. The fact that the boy was sitting alone looking bored out of his mind before Thistlewool showed up may account for that. At the question of his being here and not down in the elven home, though, the teen pulls his gaze away from the man. "I.. Well, I'm not allowed. I made a mistake and because of that I can't go in the valley."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"What sort of mistake?"
He knows well the rules of the Valley, although ignorance is feigned for the purposes of the role her plays here. He leans forward slightly, interest creeping onto his grim facade - perhaps wishing to know more so that he might not make the same mistake? Or so it may appear. Again he leaves the question of making camp here, although not dismissing it outright.
"It wasn't really my fault.. I didn't -know-.." The teen begins, sounding frustrated. "One of the elves, a friend of mine, told me I could travel with them here, because at the time we thought Rhifaroth was here. But, I had to get some belongings before I left on the trip, and I told some people where I was going. One of the other elves was really mad that I talked about it to others, and said that because I did that, I wasn't allowed in." He lets out a lofty sigh of disappointment.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Strangely, Thistlewool's voice changes from that of a grim woodsman ignorant of elvish ways to something sterner and less bereft of ancient wisdom, "These lands are secret and remain as such for good reason. When you consider what wicked things lie just beyond its borders."
And then the tone lightens just as quickly, "But, you are young and perhaps they will pardon your mistake."
Keldean shifts his eyes back to the man, not missing the change in demeanor. He's quiet, the guarded attitude returning. "I know. They told me.. after. That's why I'm out here... In the rain." He mutters, but there's not much real ire in the tone, and he goes on to say. "I don't think they'll pardon the mistake. They haven't yet. What kind of wicked things?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Thieves, brigands and bandits, no doubt," Thistlewool says with a glance over his shoulder towards the line of trees, "Men with no taste for fine things and the mind only to covet and destroy. But elves are ancient, I am told, and do not age ... so perhaps a decision takes a great deal of time to come to?"
"They're really old. But, I think they would have let me in by now if they were going to. It's okay. I got to meet lots of elves, and I can hear the music. It's very nice." Keldean muses for a long time, then turns a sharp eye on the man. "So.. your name is Thistlewool? What's your first name?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I know not the whole of your name, Keldean," Thistlewool says, eyebrows raising and he does not at all does he wither even under a keen stare, "And you would ask the whole of mine? Very well, I shall tell you but only to win trust that so evidently does not come easily to you - Frederic. Frederic Thistlewool. Although you would do best to use my family name for scarcely do I go by the name that was given me."
He stands up now and rolls his shoulders beneath the traveling cloak he wears, rain running in rivulets through the creases in the cloth.
Keldean draws back, surprised as the man challenges his ability to trust. "Pinewick.. It's Pinewick. Are you are from near Bree?" When Thistlewool begins to stand the teen jumps to his feet. "Wait! I'm sorry.. Don't go. You can stay here.. really!" He has a pleading expression on his face, "I won't ask any more questions." He adds, as if that might be a reason the man is ready to move on.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Do not call out so much," Thistlewool points out, "Or the elves below shall hear and think I have done you injury. I shall stay."
Once again he settles upon the ground, cloak drawn about him as he does so, "And yes, I am from near Bree although I live not in a proper town. On the outskirts of Chetwood ... "
Keldean looks relieved when the man agrees to stay, smiling and dropping to sit again. He lifts a hand and shakes the rain from his auburn curls, then pulls the blanket up around his shoulders more thickly. "A farm?.. My family is on a farm." He comments, as if answering his own question.. the questions he just promised to stop asking. "You're tall."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"It runs in my family," Thistlewool answers the last statement with, at last, a hint of truth, "And no ... not so much a farm as a hunting lodge. Although scarcely am I needed there anymore save to manage certain troubles that arise."
"Is that why you have a sword?" Keldean asks, then grins in embarrassment. "Nevermind.. Sorry." It occurs to him finally that in a way he's acting the host. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some food.." He jumps to his feet again, moving to enter the tent.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Indeed that is why," Thistlewool admits with a nod of his head, patting the hilt of the sword, pondering the question, "I could eat something if you have food to spare for me, yes."
Keldean disappears inside the tent and returns after a few moments with a half full wineskin and some fresh-baked bread that one of the elves brought by in the morning. "I don't have much else.. Just waybread, but.. that stuff gets old really fast. This is better." He offers it to the man, then moves to sit down again. "What do you want to ask the elves for council about?
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Yet another question from he who promised to ask no more," Thistlewool answers, although despite his grim facade a slight rumble of laughter creeps into his voice, "But I shall answer all the same."
He takes the bread and tears some free, eating it and feigning surprise although he knows quite well the skill of elvish cooking, "I wish to journey eastward from here and see distant lands. I would ask the elves by which road to go."
"Sorry.." Keldean murmurs, pulling the blanket up again to keep from getting too wet by the rain. If the man knows anything about Bree he might not find the endless curiosity so out of place. "Wh-.. Someday, I want to go east. I want to go see Lonely Mountain. I know some dwarves that live there. I want to visit them, and see where the dragon scorched their halls."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Dragons and dwarves," Thistlewool says thoughtfully, "I have known some dwarves as well and I too would like to visit their halls in the east. But such things are not easy ... I hear tales of evils more foul than mere thieves."
"You're going there? To Dale?" Keldean's eyes widen with excitement. "Tales of what? They killed the dragon. Thieves don't bother me any, I don't have anything for them to steal." He says frankly, shrugging.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"You have a life," Thistlewool points out, "And that is enough for many cruel men. As for whither I go, I do not know. Dale? Perhaps. I am, as yet, uncertain."
"But.. if you do go to Dale, you could use someone. A person to keep watch while you sleep. I have a horse, too." Keldean says, further thoughts or questions cut off by a heavy yawn. Why Morfinion would want to take this skinny teenager anywhere is anyone's guess.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Such things I will keep in my thoughts," the man who calls himself Thistlewool promises, although a part of him knows that he will not make this dangerous journey with Kildean he does not rob the lad of all hope.
"But it seems you should sleep, ere the elves return with good tidings of your pardon."
Keldean snorts, shaking his head. "They won't. I've been here long enough to know that by now." He says with no delusion of hearing otherwise. "I'm not that tired and it doesn't matter. I'll have nothing to do tomorrow." Nothing at all. "I've traveled, I could be helpful. And I do know some dwarves, truly."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I have already promised to lend thought to these matters," Thistlewool nods his head, "But ask no more for such roads are dangerous and it is not an agreement I will enter into lightly."
Keldean looks as if he might press the issue further, but he grows silent instead and nods. The teen seems to have run out of questions finally, or is struggling to hold to his promise of not asking any more, because it's quiet now. His eyes are on the sword again, studying the weapon that Thistlewool wears intently.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Thistlewool rises to his feet, giving Keldean a keen look that seems as though it could not be that of a simple hunter from the borders of Chetwood, "I go now to hear news of my company that has traveled here with me. But will return soon ... "
Keldean yawns a second time, and climbs to his feet again. "Okay." He's more tired than he's letting on and it's catching up to him. He looks at the tent, and then back to the traveler. "I'll put some blankets for you, there's lots of room. I think I'll sleep.." The boy moves into the tent to turn in for the night, but does clear a space near the entrance, leaving a few blankets for Morfinion. If the man returns, he'll find the teen curled up in a heap of furs and blankets near the back of the shelter, fast asleep.
There's a lone tent pitched along the rim of the valley. It's elven in make and design, but it's a teenaged human that sits in front of a small fire outside. He's wearing warm woolen shirt and tunic, also of elven make, and has some woven elven blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He's sitting alone, poking at the small blaze with a stick, looking terribly bored as the stars twinkle overhead and a faint elven song drifts up from the Last Homely House far below.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Even as the verdant foliage parts to make way for a figure clad in earthen tones and forest greens, not a sound is made for the art of stealth is heavy upon his mind tonight. What rain may fall is spared from his eyes by the heavy cowl of his cloak drawn down over his face, shadows masking him safe for a jaw rife with stubble and the callousness of the road. He nears the camp and observes it from his hiding place, an elf-tent but no elven lad is the figure he sees there.
Soundless he remains for the moment, watching out of grim-faced curiosity.
Keldean is quite sick of all the rain, and really should have retreated back into the tent.. but it has been small sprinkles off and on, and the teen is drastically sick of the interior of the constructed shelter. He seems quite oblivious to much beyond the hungering flames, and is amusing himself by poking at one of the logs and sending sparks swirling into the air.
The grim figure secluded in the woods steps forth with little fanfare. At one moment there is naught but trees, bushes and long grasses then the next a figure is stepping across the clearing and approaching the flickering flames. He pauses on the outskirts of the light given off by the fire, although still visible beneath the starlight he does not enter the warmth the camp gives just yet. He waits a moment, as though expecting invitation before he requests it outright.
"Would you consider it ill," he asks, voice low and without mirth despite the merry presence of the Last Homely House below, "To share your fire with me a moment so that I might warm myself?"
Keldean doesn't respond because he's so blinded by the bright sparks of the fire in front of him that he never sees the stranger approach. The teen jumps when a voice splits the air, looking up sharply to find the voice that is -not- the lilt of an elven speaker. He studies Morfinion almost accusingly in silence for a long moment, his dark eyes traveling to the sword that the man wears. Finally, the youth gestures towards the fire. "Sure.. go ahead."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Thank you," he replies quietly, taking a seat on the earth with no measure of discomfort and lifting his hands to warm them by the fire. He glances up briefly towards the youth, drawing the hood of his cloak up slightly to shed more light on his features.
"What brings you so far?"
Keldean watches the ranger quietly, a wariness as he studies the man. "I thought to visit someone, but they aren't here anymore." He answers carefully. "What about you? Why don't you have any elves guiding you?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"They are but they thought to venture ahead down into the Valley once evening was upon our company," Morfinion answers, and while there is no truth in what he says he speaks it with no less conviction than would a man speaking the honest truth, "And I am woodsman enough to dwell here on the edge of the wilderness with no fear of meeting dangers so great they could not be overcome."
He holds his hands out towards the fire, warming them and rubbing them together from time to time, "Who is your friend, if I may ask?"
"Oh.. they do not watch you?" Keldean asks, glancing up at the stranger again, suspiciously. Then he looks around at the darkness beyond the firelight, as if expecting elves to pop out of the shadows. But they are not around. At least, within sight. Elathrad is rarely gone for very long. "Not a friend.. so much. He goes by Seeker."
The swiftly brightening sky shows that the sun has risen behind the clouds.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Seeker, you say?"
He considers this a moment and shakes his head, "The name is not familiar to me, nor have I heard it before. But should I hear tell of a 'Seeker' then I shall let them know that you are looking for them. What name do you go by, Elf-Friend?"
"He also is known as Rhifaroth.. That's what the elves call him." Keldean explains, lifting up the stick he was holding earlier and holding the tip in the flames. "My name is Keldean." He glances up expectantly, waiting for the stranger to provide his own.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Keldean," the stranger says, as though committing the name to memory, "Now I know by what two names this acquaintance of your's goes and I shall do my best to let them know that Keldean seeks them should our paths cross before your own."
He contemplates the pause left in which to supply his own name, "Thistlewool I am called."
"You don't have to let him know. It's okay. I think I know where to find him.. " Keldean answers, frowning. "I would rather he didn't know that I'm looking for him." The teen adds, elaborating.
"Thistlewool? Is that a nickname?.." He studies the man, tapping the stick on a log thoughtfully. "Are you a ranger?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Then I shall speak no more of it," 'Thistlewool' commits when Keldean makes mention of not wishing to alert the person he is looking for, "But my eyes shall remain open all the same."
To the question he offers something of a laugh, not a bitter thing but it lacks merriment, "I have come to think the Rangers stuff of legends ... and even if they are not, I am not counted amongst their number."
"Really.. ?" Keldean asks, still gazing at the man. "You look like one. And you have a name like one." He points out. The stick is stuffed deeper into the fire and the teen shifts to sit back more comfortably. "Why are you here?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Oh, like so many I am drawn by a want for council and curiosity," 'Thistlewool' answers with a slight lift and shrug of his shoulders, disregarding the comment that he looks like a Ranger, "I was fortunate enough to meet a Company of Elves along the road ... or should I say they saw fit to make their presence known. By what roads did you come here?"
"I'm.. not sure. The East Road, I guess. I think.." Keldean chews on his lower lip, watching Morfinion closely. "Where are you from? Most people where I'm from barely know anything about the elves.." The teen goes on to ask another question without waiting for a response, "How did you know where to go?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"The truth is that I did not," 'Thistlewool' answers with an honest shrug of his shoulders, the grim tone of his voice lightening a shade, "It was a happy accident that I was met by the Elves when I was or I would still be wandering the Wood. As for knowing much of the manner of elves, I only know what I have seen and heard these last few weeks that I have been in their company. I do know that their music is as fair as they themselves and it does lighten the heart to hear it."
As much as he may speak of fair music lightening his burden, by any account he does not appear to be lighthearted at all.
Keldean looks skeptical by these answers, a heavy does of distrust still on his young face but the skepticism seems to ebb quickly. "So you've never been here before?" He asks in a puzzled tone. "Why are you waiting here, then? Are you not allowed to go down?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I would not say I am banned from venturing down," he says with a shake of his head, turning a grey-eyed gaze towards the Valley below, "But that I felt it best to wait until my hosts saw fit to summon me and offer their hospitality. Until then I am comfortable with dwelling on the edge of the wild."
"Oh.." Keldean mulls this over and seems to accept it, and much of his suspicion eases now. "You didn't say where you're from. You could stay here, if you want. I have a lot of furs and blankets, in the tent." The teen offers, an eagerness in his voice.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Oh, I wouldn't want to encroach too much on your hospitality - I've already shared your fire and questioned you about your journey," Thistlewool says with a shake of his head, carefully skirting around the question of where he comes from.
"But tell me - why do you dwell on the edge of the Valley? Surely the homes of the elves are far more becoming than than the rainy wilderness?"
"I don't mind." Keldean answers quickly, with just the faintest hint of desperation in his voice. The fact that the boy was sitting alone looking bored out of his mind before Thistlewool showed up may account for that. At the question of his being here and not down in the elven home, though, the teen pulls his gaze away from the man. "I.. Well, I'm not allowed. I made a mistake and because of that I can't go in the valley."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"What sort of mistake?"
He knows well the rules of the Valley, although ignorance is feigned for the purposes of the role her plays here. He leans forward slightly, interest creeping onto his grim facade - perhaps wishing to know more so that he might not make the same mistake? Or so it may appear. Again he leaves the question of making camp here, although not dismissing it outright.
"It wasn't really my fault.. I didn't -know-.." The teen begins, sounding frustrated. "One of the elves, a friend of mine, told me I could travel with them here, because at the time we thought Rhifaroth was here. But, I had to get some belongings before I left on the trip, and I told some people where I was going. One of the other elves was really mad that I talked about it to others, and said that because I did that, I wasn't allowed in." He lets out a lofty sigh of disappointment.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Strangely, Thistlewool's voice changes from that of a grim woodsman ignorant of elvish ways to something sterner and less bereft of ancient wisdom, "These lands are secret and remain as such for good reason. When you consider what wicked things lie just beyond its borders."
And then the tone lightens just as quickly, "But, you are young and perhaps they will pardon your mistake."
Keldean shifts his eyes back to the man, not missing the change in demeanor. He's quiet, the guarded attitude returning. "I know. They told me.. after. That's why I'm out here... In the rain." He mutters, but there's not much real ire in the tone, and he goes on to say. "I don't think they'll pardon the mistake. They haven't yet. What kind of wicked things?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Thieves, brigands and bandits, no doubt," Thistlewool says with a glance over his shoulder towards the line of trees, "Men with no taste for fine things and the mind only to covet and destroy. But elves are ancient, I am told, and do not age ... so perhaps a decision takes a great deal of time to come to?"
"They're really old. But, I think they would have let me in by now if they were going to. It's okay. I got to meet lots of elves, and I can hear the music. It's very nice." Keldean muses for a long time, then turns a sharp eye on the man. "So.. your name is Thistlewool? What's your first name?"
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I know not the whole of your name, Keldean," Thistlewool says, eyebrows raising and he does not at all does he wither even under a keen stare, "And you would ask the whole of mine? Very well, I shall tell you but only to win trust that so evidently does not come easily to you - Frederic. Frederic Thistlewool. Although you would do best to use my family name for scarcely do I go by the name that was given me."
He stands up now and rolls his shoulders beneath the traveling cloak he wears, rain running in rivulets through the creases in the cloth.
Keldean draws back, surprised as the man challenges his ability to trust. "Pinewick.. It's Pinewick. Are you are from near Bree?" When Thistlewool begins to stand the teen jumps to his feet. "Wait! I'm sorry.. Don't go. You can stay here.. really!" He has a pleading expression on his face, "I won't ask any more questions." He adds, as if that might be a reason the man is ready to move on.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Do not call out so much," Thistlewool points out, "Or the elves below shall hear and think I have done you injury. I shall stay."
Once again he settles upon the ground, cloak drawn about him as he does so, "And yes, I am from near Bree although I live not in a proper town. On the outskirts of Chetwood ... "
Keldean looks relieved when the man agrees to stay, smiling and dropping to sit again. He lifts a hand and shakes the rain from his auburn curls, then pulls the blanket up around his shoulders more thickly. "A farm?.. My family is on a farm." He comments, as if answering his own question.. the questions he just promised to stop asking. "You're tall."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"It runs in my family," Thistlewool answers the last statement with, at last, a hint of truth, "And no ... not so much a farm as a hunting lodge. Although scarcely am I needed there anymore save to manage certain troubles that arise."
"Is that why you have a sword?" Keldean asks, then grins in embarrassment. "Nevermind.. Sorry." It occurs to him finally that in a way he's acting the host. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some food.." He jumps to his feet again, moving to enter the tent.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Indeed that is why," Thistlewool admits with a nod of his head, patting the hilt of the sword, pondering the question, "I could eat something if you have food to spare for me, yes."
Keldean disappears inside the tent and returns after a few moments with a half full wineskin and some fresh-baked bread that one of the elves brought by in the morning. "I don't have much else.. Just waybread, but.. that stuff gets old really fast. This is better." He offers it to the man, then moves to sit down again. "What do you want to ask the elves for council about?
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Yet another question from he who promised to ask no more," Thistlewool answers, although despite his grim facade a slight rumble of laughter creeps into his voice, "But I shall answer all the same."
He takes the bread and tears some free, eating it and feigning surprise although he knows quite well the skill of elvish cooking, "I wish to journey eastward from here and see distant lands. I would ask the elves by which road to go."
"Sorry.." Keldean murmurs, pulling the blanket up again to keep from getting too wet by the rain. If the man knows anything about Bree he might not find the endless curiosity so out of place. "Wh-.. Someday, I want to go east. I want to go see Lonely Mountain. I know some dwarves that live there. I want to visit them, and see where the dragon scorched their halls."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Dragons and dwarves," Thistlewool says thoughtfully, "I have known some dwarves as well and I too would like to visit their halls in the east. But such things are not easy ... I hear tales of evils more foul than mere thieves."
"You're going there? To Dale?" Keldean's eyes widen with excitement. "Tales of what? They killed the dragon. Thieves don't bother me any, I don't have anything for them to steal." He says frankly, shrugging.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"You have a life," Thistlewool points out, "And that is enough for many cruel men. As for whither I go, I do not know. Dale? Perhaps. I am, as yet, uncertain."
"But.. if you do go to Dale, you could use someone. A person to keep watch while you sleep. I have a horse, too." Keldean says, further thoughts or questions cut off by a heavy yawn. Why Morfinion would want to take this skinny teenager anywhere is anyone's guess.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"Such things I will keep in my thoughts," the man who calls himself Thistlewool promises, although a part of him knows that he will not make this dangerous journey with Kildean he does not rob the lad of all hope.
"But it seems you should sleep, ere the elves return with good tidings of your pardon."
Keldean snorts, shaking his head. "They won't. I've been here long enough to know that by now." He says with no delusion of hearing otherwise. "I'm not that tired and it doesn't matter. I'll have nothing to do tomorrow." Nothing at all. "I've traveled, I could be helpful. And I do know some dwarves, truly."
[Morfinion(#26663)]
"I have already promised to lend thought to these matters," Thistlewool nods his head, "But ask no more for such roads are dangerous and it is not an agreement I will enter into lightly."
Keldean looks as if he might press the issue further, but he grows silent instead and nods. The teen seems to have run out of questions finally, or is struggling to hold to his promise of not asking any more, because it's quiet now. His eyes are on the sword again, studying the weapon that Thistlewool wears intently.
[Morfinion(#26663)]
Thistlewool rises to his feet, giving Keldean a keen look that seems as though it could not be that of a simple hunter from the borders of Chetwood, "I go now to hear news of my company that has traveled here with me. But will return soon ... "
Keldean yawns a second time, and climbs to his feet again. "Okay." He's more tired than he's letting on and it's catching up to him. He looks at the tent, and then back to the traveler. "I'll put some blankets for you, there's lots of room. I think I'll sleep.." The boy moves into the tent to turn in for the night, but does clear a space near the entrance, leaving a few blankets for Morfinion. If the man returns, he'll find the teen curled up in a heap of furs and blankets near the back of the shelter, fast asleep.
Players: Keldean, Morfinion, Thistlewool
