Elendor
Braldor Speaks with his Huskarl
Braldor pays a visit to Ranol and has his own take on this orc, Grishnakh.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Northern Village - Infirmary
IC Time: Night
Description: It's evening and the infirmary is very quiet. The window is open, letting in some warm air from outside, and with it drifts occasional sounds of laughter from the tavern down the way. Ranol is still sleeping ninety percent of his days away, but at the moment he's awake, half propped up against a few pillows with his eyes staring off at nothing in particular.
The huskarl is feverish. There's a light sheen of sweat on his face and a flush to his color. He's in no condition to get up and move about so he has little recourse other than to sit limp in the bed, hot and uncomfortable with his mind wandering.
[Braldor(#30149)] There is a sound of a door opening, albeit hushed, as if it was being opened with great care. Boots sound on the wooden floor, hushed also, as if whoever it is treads with great caution. Thane Bundazanul peers inside Ranol's room, his dark eyes fixing quickly on the prone figure of the Huskarl. He moves towards him, yet no word is uttered.
Ranol looks over at the sound of footsteps, his blue eyes searching through the dark room. It's a dwarf, that much he can determine immediately, but it's a few steps before he recognizes who comes to visit. "Lord Braldor." Almost on reflex, he pushes against the pillows in an attempt to sit up straighter, more respectfully, but his strength is low and that small movement is painful.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Aye, lad", comes Braldor's voice, low and soothing. "Do not try to get up... the healers say yer been very battered... ye shouldn't move", he adds, putting a hand lightly on Ranol's chest to prevent the Huskarl from rising. "Truth is, if ye try to sit up and a healer saw ye, I'd probably be chased away", he adds with a slight chuckle. "Speakin' o' healers...", he adds, as he looks around, as if searching for someone or something.
Ranol has thick bandages around his chest and midsection, fairly obvious beneath the loose shirt he's wearing. He eases back under Braldor's touch, sinking into the pillows again. "I don't know where the others are. I only woke a bit ago.. It's too hot in here." He runs a hand back through his sweat dampened hair to illustrate the point. "My lord.. I'm sorry for getting into this mess. I .. was foolish and reckless."
[Braldor(#30149)] "Never mind, Huskarl", comes Braldor's reply. "That could have happened to any of us... and I doubt many would have faced the attack in suchy a corageous way as ye", he adds. Then, under his breath, he mutters, "Where are the healers here? And where in hell is Thari?"
[Thari(#31038)]
As if called into being, the door pushes open to admit Thari. She rubs at her moustache while looking down the cots toward Ranol and Braldor. She frows and quickly crosses the room toward them.
"Are.. you.. not feeling well, my lord?" Ranol asks in a hesitant tone. Why else would Braldor be searching for the healers? The huskarl looks a bit confused.
[Braldor(#30149)] "I'm feeling well, never mind ye a bout me lad", Braldor replies. As Thari appears, Braldor seems to relax a bit. "Ah good... one of our won. I think that the Neornming are alright, but nthing like a dwarf healer to put ye back on yer feet in no time", he adds, nodding to Thari in silent greeting.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Braldor," Thari answers briskly while walking. She seats herself on the far side of Ranol's bed, across from the Thane. As she passes, there is a faint scent of honey and alcohol and, it must be admitted, she is slightly flushed. "Where is everyone, Ranol? I thought you were being looked after." She touches his brow and frowns. "You're hot, lad."
"It's hot in here." Ranol points out, as if not only is that obvious, but the reason he's so warm. "There's no reason for someone to sit here and watch me sleep. I'd rather be left alone.." Then he remembers that his Thane is standing right there, "That is.. ahh.. lord Braldor, I need to tell you about this orc."
[Braldor(#30149)] Braldor looks at Thari and as the smell of honey and alcohol makes the Thane frown slightly. But soon his eyes go back to Ranol. "Tell me lad... that is, if ye can. If not, per'aps we can talk later on, when ye feel better".
[Thari(#31038)]
"Yes, and the minute you're left alone you're off trying to ride ponies I warrant." Thari's grumbling eases off and the lass stands, making her way toward a small table as the men talk.
"He called himself Grishnakh. Grishnakh the Great." Ranol normally might have rolled his eyes at that, but he's lying in a hospital bed and has no ground to stand on. "He's smart. He had me, my lord, and there was nothing that I could do. He stayed his blade because he -wanted- me to come back and speak of him."
[Braldor(#30149)] Braldor grunts, and his brow furrows as his eyes sparkle dangerously. "He ain't intelligent... he just set a death sentence on himself. Now every dwarf that comes around this Grishnak will kill him, as surely as our forebears killed Azog in Azanulbizar... cursed be their names!", he adds, as he spits on the floor. "So never mind about this Grishnakh... he's as good as dead".
[Thari(#31038)]
"He's right about that, Ranol, he's as good as dead," Thari calls from the other side of the room. She returns now with a bowl and a cloth. She sits beside the injured Ranol and begins to bathe his brow with cool water.
Ranol shakes his head quickly, ignoring Thari's ministrations in his need to be heard. "No, my lord. It's a trap. He -wants- us to go after him and said as much. He's goading us out. He wasn't alone, there were others with him and it was still very much daylight out when they ambushed me." The huskarl sounds more insistant, fearing now that his Thane might rush out to try and catch this powerful orc. "I say.. this goblin is smart, my lord."
[Braldor(#30149)] "Smart as he may be, this will not go unpunished. I won't allow it", Braldor replies, and even if his voice is calm, his face is another matter completely. "I shall inform Lord Gimli of this, and we shall seek out this foul goblin and teach him a very /pointed/ lesson in manners", he adds. "His face on a pole will serve as warning to other about trying to attack dwarves again".
[Frarin(#31050)] Well, it seems that visiting Ranol is once again the place to be this evening. Following several minutes behind Thari is Frarin, the silversmith having enjoyed a few hours at the Mad Dog Tavern as well. The door of the infirmiry opens wide enough to admit him, accompanied with that distinct smokey smell of travernns, though the same smell of honey and alcohol as follow Thari seem also to cling to Frarin. Overall, he seems unusually at ease and is humming to himself as he comes into the room.
That is, until he spots Thane Braldor. He pauses, suddenly frowning. The expression seems somehow slightly exaggerrated. "Aha," he says, smiling with forced politeness. "I see you already have a visitor, cousin." Indeed, more than one, for it does not take long for Frarin's eyes to find Thari. This significantly brightens his mood. "Evening, Thari," he says, fair grinning. Braldor is forgotten for the moment.
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's a terrible idea, Braldor!" Thari suddenly argues, hand pausing on Ranol's head. "Ranol said it was a trap! He means for you to do that! Don't be playing into the beast's hand!" She glowers a bit, then suddenly brightens at Frarin's voice. "Good Evening, lad!" she calls, cheerful as anything.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Bah! A trap is only good when you know not about it", Braldor replies to Thari, making a dimissive gesture with his hand. "Anyway, there will be Lord Gimli there, and the only one I've seen mightier than him with an axe is the King himself... this Grishnakh has his days counted, as far as I'm concerned. And I know Lord Gimli will be of the same mind", he adds.
"Then, lord, please wait until I am well enough to go with you." Ranol pushes himself to try and sit up again, determination in his voice. "It is a trap.. He -wants- you to know. He said he knew you would come and he would be waiting. This was no foolish goblin, I swear it!" He continues, the fever touching his tone of voice, "Wait until I am able to go, if you must seek him out. Please!" The huskarl had wrestled with sharing the news at all, out of fear that this may happen.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Yer devotion to yer duty is commendable, Huskarl", Braldor says, yet this seems to be a matter that I must settle myself. I have battled many times before, even the dark forces of the Shadow of the East... goblins, and orcs, and trolls, and even evil Men... and I shall have Lord Gimli and the Narag to boot! Not even the Dark One who sits in his throne in the East will be able to hold us!", he adds, his voice full of surety. "We shall have that orc's head soon, never you mind. And as I said, we know it's a trap. We shall go with open eyes and ready axes to meet this goblin".
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is still smiling at Thari as she greets him and it would perhaps be quite fortunate that Braldor has not even acknowledged Frarin - would, of course, being the operative word, for though Frarin is not spoken to by the Thane, he nevertheless overhears the topic of conversation. He starts to come towards Thari. "That's ridiculous," he grunts without being invited into the conversation. A few mugs of mead, it seems, have made Frarin even bolder than before.
"You know it's a trap, but what sort of trap? Unless you know specifically what rock they're going to be hiding behind, then tramping off into the Wilderland with what remains of the Narag will only bring trouble. If they are waiting, then knowing they are waiting and not knowing /where/ will be of no use. Listen to your huskarl."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well naturally Lord Gimli is indeed strong and bold and wise, but this is foolish talk!" Thari protests. She goes back to bathing Ranol's face, nodding firmly as Frarin speaks. "Talk like this is what lost us half of our men before. You just ask any one of our mothers back home and they'll tell you!"
[Braldor(#30149)] "Bah, we shall see what Lord Gimli has to say... clearly, he will show much more sense than people who get left behind and then get snatched by a troll", he says to Ranol, although clearly he's not referring to the Huskarl.
Ranol would certainly never speak to Braldor in such a fashion, but he strongly believes that -not- running off to meet this challenge is the better choice right now. "My lord.. please.. Speak with the beornings first. I told this to Mobeorn and he seemed to find the behavior of this Grishnakh very out of the ordinary. He -let- me live. That alone is bizarre in itself." Ranol is growing agitated, obviously in pain.
[Frarin(#31050)] "Oh for Durin's sake," Frarin grumbles, pausing a few feet from the end of Ranol's bed and crossing his arms. "With any luck, he will show more sense than certain people who let their clan biases get in the way as well." The silversmith, unlike Braldor, does not seem to be making any effort to pretend he is talking to anyone. He seems to be making the statement at large. But he does point suddenly at Braldor's back. "And before you start up on that again, might I suggest you get your bloody facts straight, my lord? Clarifying, for example, that we were in fact /camped/ at the time and there was no lingering behind whatsoever."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Our food was bad, Braldor!" Thari protests, slopping the rag back into the bowl and spilling a bit on her trousers. "I can't help it if I'm smaller than the others and it got to me first!"
[Braldor(#30149)] The Thane gets up and his eyes remain on Ranol. "Worry not, lad. I shall soeak to Mobeorn and the Beornings, who know these lands even better than the goblins. Then we shalld ecide what we'll do. All ye need now is to obey Thari and the healers, so that ye're back on yer feet as soon as possible. Rest now, Huskarl of Bundazanul, and know that yer name is now among the great of our clan", he adds. He starts to leave, as he shoorts a look at Thari (Frarin seems to be non-existant to the Thane), as he adds, "No excuses! We shall talk later, you and I". And with that Braldor leaves, leaving Ranol under the care of Thari.
Ohhh, the raised voices again. For a place of quiet rest, two nights now have seen anything but. Ranol is too worried about the orc for his fevered mind to sort out everything that's being said. Braldor's reassurances ease his stress some, and he eases back. That expression of worry is still upon his face, though. There's no chance for him to say anything as the Thane leaves, and the huskarl falls into a brooding silence.
[Frarin(#31050)] Despite being diligently ignored by the Thane, Frarin's temper seems not to be in the mood for rising this evening. Perhaps it is the enjoyable few hours he has spent at the tavern, but he simply rolls his eyes with no effort to conceal his disrespect as Braldor takes his leave. The Thane's departure seems to remove an invisible barrier and Frarin comes closer, seating himself on the bed beside Ranol.
"Rushing off into the wild unknown, yes that's very clever. Oh but wait, we /know/ it's a trap so all's well." His speech is very slightly slurred. But he holds up a hand before Ranol can say anything. "Don't worry, no disloyalty charges for you. I'll stop there and hold my damn tongue."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Papa would be a better Thane," Thari declares, hand to her hip as she stands. The bowl sloshes a bit over the edge again as she walks to put it back on the table. It must be admitted that she is swaying slightly. "Ooh, Durin, don't tell him that," she gasps suddenly, hand to her mouth. "I'm not supposed to say that in front of people."
Being denied the option of walking away from the conversation, Ranol simply tries to keep the scowl from touching his features, but doesn't completely succeed. It doesn't last long though as his worry crushes his annoyance. "I hope they don't make a mistake.. He'll talk to the Beornings. He will.."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin gives Thari a sarcastic smile, his eyes a bit dull. "He wouldn't believe me if I told him and somehow I doubt Ranol will tell him. Of course he'll talk to the Beornings," he snorts, sitting somehow vacantly hunched forward. "He isn't stupid, after all. That's right, bet you didn't think you'd ever hear that coming from me."
He sighs suddenly as if abruptly bored with the conversation and he claps his hands down on his knees. "Well, I've managed to disturb your sleep once again, Ranol. And here I thought I would simply peek in and see how you were doing. Well then." He stands as if preparing to leave.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'll talk to him, Ranol," Thari says firmly. "I can talk sense into Braldor. And even Lord Gimli." She sounds absolutely certain of herself as she walks toward the silversmith.
"Good night, Frarin dear," she says comfortably, leaning over to kiss his cheek even though Ranol is near and could see. "I'm going to sleep here tonight so I can be near Ranol. You should go straight to bed. You drink too much." She says this all quite cheerfully, her own eyes just a bit glassy too.
Ranol still looks deeply concerned, most of the words spoken barely registering. He's going over the conversation with Braldor, trying to remember everything that was said. There's nothing he can do now.. well, except worry. Thari speaks of convincing the Thane, but the huskarl only frowns in response, his blue gaze drifting away from the two. He's looking more feverish again, so perhaps his mind is wandering against his will. "I should have convinced him." He murmurs quietly, his tone angry.
[Frarin(#31050)] "As if he would have listened," Frarin mutters without any irritation at all, replying to Ranol. "Well, he'll figure it out at some point or another. Durin knows my trying to convince him won't do an ounce of good, I will leave that joyeous task up to you too."
His eyes close with a smile as Thari comes over and kisses his cheek and he says happily, "Yes dear. Straight to bed." A wink is given Ranol as if the huskarl is somehow a co-conspirator in some very amusing game. Who knows what funny little thoughts are going on the silversmith's head. Then he offers an exaggerrated bow to the two of them and turns.
And all the way to the door, he muttering entirely contentedly to himself. "I drink too much. Ah yes, very likely. But play the fiddle better that way, bet she doesn't know that. Smoke too much too, I imagine. But there you are, what's to be done--" And so on until the door clicks shut behind him and the infirmiry is left behind.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pats Frarin's cheek cheerfully as he agrees with her and turns away. She walks to Ranol with her rag and touches his brow again. "Stop worrying about it and go to sleep or I will drug you," she threatens, climbing into the next cot over with her boots still on.
"I'll sleep soon.. " Ranol responds, but he doesn't relax. Not right away. He stresses for quite some time, until weariness finally drags him to slumber, almost an hour later. The fever continues to burn at him, perhaps growing a bit worse, but he simply throws the sheets off and sleeps on. There's little more he can do.
The huskarl is feverish. There's a light sheen of sweat on his face and a flush to his color. He's in no condition to get up and move about so he has little recourse other than to sit limp in the bed, hot and uncomfortable with his mind wandering.
[Braldor(#30149)] There is a sound of a door opening, albeit hushed, as if it was being opened with great care. Boots sound on the wooden floor, hushed also, as if whoever it is treads with great caution. Thane Bundazanul peers inside Ranol's room, his dark eyes fixing quickly on the prone figure of the Huskarl. He moves towards him, yet no word is uttered.
Ranol looks over at the sound of footsteps, his blue eyes searching through the dark room. It's a dwarf, that much he can determine immediately, but it's a few steps before he recognizes who comes to visit. "Lord Braldor." Almost on reflex, he pushes against the pillows in an attempt to sit up straighter, more respectfully, but his strength is low and that small movement is painful.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Aye, lad", comes Braldor's voice, low and soothing. "Do not try to get up... the healers say yer been very battered... ye shouldn't move", he adds, putting a hand lightly on Ranol's chest to prevent the Huskarl from rising. "Truth is, if ye try to sit up and a healer saw ye, I'd probably be chased away", he adds with a slight chuckle. "Speakin' o' healers...", he adds, as he looks around, as if searching for someone or something.
Ranol has thick bandages around his chest and midsection, fairly obvious beneath the loose shirt he's wearing. He eases back under Braldor's touch, sinking into the pillows again. "I don't know where the others are. I only woke a bit ago.. It's too hot in here." He runs a hand back through his sweat dampened hair to illustrate the point. "My lord.. I'm sorry for getting into this mess. I .. was foolish and reckless."
[Braldor(#30149)] "Never mind, Huskarl", comes Braldor's reply. "That could have happened to any of us... and I doubt many would have faced the attack in suchy a corageous way as ye", he adds. Then, under his breath, he mutters, "Where are the healers here? And where in hell is Thari?"
[Thari(#31038)]
As if called into being, the door pushes open to admit Thari. She rubs at her moustache while looking down the cots toward Ranol and Braldor. She frows and quickly crosses the room toward them.
"Are.. you.. not feeling well, my lord?" Ranol asks in a hesitant tone. Why else would Braldor be searching for the healers? The huskarl looks a bit confused.
[Braldor(#30149)] "I'm feeling well, never mind ye a bout me lad", Braldor replies. As Thari appears, Braldor seems to relax a bit. "Ah good... one of our won. I think that the Neornming are alright, but nthing like a dwarf healer to put ye back on yer feet in no time", he adds, nodding to Thari in silent greeting.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Braldor," Thari answers briskly while walking. She seats herself on the far side of Ranol's bed, across from the Thane. As she passes, there is a faint scent of honey and alcohol and, it must be admitted, she is slightly flushed. "Where is everyone, Ranol? I thought you were being looked after." She touches his brow and frowns. "You're hot, lad."
"It's hot in here." Ranol points out, as if not only is that obvious, but the reason he's so warm. "There's no reason for someone to sit here and watch me sleep. I'd rather be left alone.." Then he remembers that his Thane is standing right there, "That is.. ahh.. lord Braldor, I need to tell you about this orc."
[Braldor(#30149)] Braldor looks at Thari and as the smell of honey and alcohol makes the Thane frown slightly. But soon his eyes go back to Ranol. "Tell me lad... that is, if ye can. If not, per'aps we can talk later on, when ye feel better".
[Thari(#31038)]
"Yes, and the minute you're left alone you're off trying to ride ponies I warrant." Thari's grumbling eases off and the lass stands, making her way toward a small table as the men talk.
"He called himself Grishnakh. Grishnakh the Great." Ranol normally might have rolled his eyes at that, but he's lying in a hospital bed and has no ground to stand on. "He's smart. He had me, my lord, and there was nothing that I could do. He stayed his blade because he -wanted- me to come back and speak of him."
[Braldor(#30149)] Braldor grunts, and his brow furrows as his eyes sparkle dangerously. "He ain't intelligent... he just set a death sentence on himself. Now every dwarf that comes around this Grishnak will kill him, as surely as our forebears killed Azog in Azanulbizar... cursed be their names!", he adds, as he spits on the floor. "So never mind about this Grishnakh... he's as good as dead".
[Thari(#31038)]
"He's right about that, Ranol, he's as good as dead," Thari calls from the other side of the room. She returns now with a bowl and a cloth. She sits beside the injured Ranol and begins to bathe his brow with cool water.
Ranol shakes his head quickly, ignoring Thari's ministrations in his need to be heard. "No, my lord. It's a trap. He -wants- us to go after him and said as much. He's goading us out. He wasn't alone, there were others with him and it was still very much daylight out when they ambushed me." The huskarl sounds more insistant, fearing now that his Thane might rush out to try and catch this powerful orc. "I say.. this goblin is smart, my lord."
[Braldor(#30149)] "Smart as he may be, this will not go unpunished. I won't allow it", Braldor replies, and even if his voice is calm, his face is another matter completely. "I shall inform Lord Gimli of this, and we shall seek out this foul goblin and teach him a very /pointed/ lesson in manners", he adds. "His face on a pole will serve as warning to other about trying to attack dwarves again".
[Frarin(#31050)] Well, it seems that visiting Ranol is once again the place to be this evening. Following several minutes behind Thari is Frarin, the silversmith having enjoyed a few hours at the Mad Dog Tavern as well. The door of the infirmiry opens wide enough to admit him, accompanied with that distinct smokey smell of travernns, though the same smell of honey and alcohol as follow Thari seem also to cling to Frarin. Overall, he seems unusually at ease and is humming to himself as he comes into the room.
That is, until he spots Thane Braldor. He pauses, suddenly frowning. The expression seems somehow slightly exaggerrated. "Aha," he says, smiling with forced politeness. "I see you already have a visitor, cousin." Indeed, more than one, for it does not take long for Frarin's eyes to find Thari. This significantly brightens his mood. "Evening, Thari," he says, fair grinning. Braldor is forgotten for the moment.
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's a terrible idea, Braldor!" Thari suddenly argues, hand pausing on Ranol's head. "Ranol said it was a trap! He means for you to do that! Don't be playing into the beast's hand!" She glowers a bit, then suddenly brightens at Frarin's voice. "Good Evening, lad!" she calls, cheerful as anything.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Bah! A trap is only good when you know not about it", Braldor replies to Thari, making a dimissive gesture with his hand. "Anyway, there will be Lord Gimli there, and the only one I've seen mightier than him with an axe is the King himself... this Grishnakh has his days counted, as far as I'm concerned. And I know Lord Gimli will be of the same mind", he adds.
"Then, lord, please wait until I am well enough to go with you." Ranol pushes himself to try and sit up again, determination in his voice. "It is a trap.. He -wants- you to know. He said he knew you would come and he would be waiting. This was no foolish goblin, I swear it!" He continues, the fever touching his tone of voice, "Wait until I am able to go, if you must seek him out. Please!" The huskarl had wrestled with sharing the news at all, out of fear that this may happen.
[Braldor(#30149)] "Yer devotion to yer duty is commendable, Huskarl", Braldor says, yet this seems to be a matter that I must settle myself. I have battled many times before, even the dark forces of the Shadow of the East... goblins, and orcs, and trolls, and even evil Men... and I shall have Lord Gimli and the Narag to boot! Not even the Dark One who sits in his throne in the East will be able to hold us!", he adds, his voice full of surety. "We shall have that orc's head soon, never you mind. And as I said, we know it's a trap. We shall go with open eyes and ready axes to meet this goblin".
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is still smiling at Thari as she greets him and it would perhaps be quite fortunate that Braldor has not even acknowledged Frarin - would, of course, being the operative word, for though Frarin is not spoken to by the Thane, he nevertheless overhears the topic of conversation. He starts to come towards Thari. "That's ridiculous," he grunts without being invited into the conversation. A few mugs of mead, it seems, have made Frarin even bolder than before.
"You know it's a trap, but what sort of trap? Unless you know specifically what rock they're going to be hiding behind, then tramping off into the Wilderland with what remains of the Narag will only bring trouble. If they are waiting, then knowing they are waiting and not knowing /where/ will be of no use. Listen to your huskarl."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well naturally Lord Gimli is indeed strong and bold and wise, but this is foolish talk!" Thari protests. She goes back to bathing Ranol's face, nodding firmly as Frarin speaks. "Talk like this is what lost us half of our men before. You just ask any one of our mothers back home and they'll tell you!"
[Braldor(#30149)] "Bah, we shall see what Lord Gimli has to say... clearly, he will show much more sense than people who get left behind and then get snatched by a troll", he says to Ranol, although clearly he's not referring to the Huskarl.
Ranol would certainly never speak to Braldor in such a fashion, but he strongly believes that -not- running off to meet this challenge is the better choice right now. "My lord.. please.. Speak with the beornings first. I told this to Mobeorn and he seemed to find the behavior of this Grishnakh very out of the ordinary. He -let- me live. That alone is bizarre in itself." Ranol is growing agitated, obviously in pain.
[Frarin(#31050)] "Oh for Durin's sake," Frarin grumbles, pausing a few feet from the end of Ranol's bed and crossing his arms. "With any luck, he will show more sense than certain people who let their clan biases get in the way as well." The silversmith, unlike Braldor, does not seem to be making any effort to pretend he is talking to anyone. He seems to be making the statement at large. But he does point suddenly at Braldor's back. "And before you start up on that again, might I suggest you get your bloody facts straight, my lord? Clarifying, for example, that we were in fact /camped/ at the time and there was no lingering behind whatsoever."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Our food was bad, Braldor!" Thari protests, slopping the rag back into the bowl and spilling a bit on her trousers. "I can't help it if I'm smaller than the others and it got to me first!"
[Braldor(#30149)] The Thane gets up and his eyes remain on Ranol. "Worry not, lad. I shall soeak to Mobeorn and the Beornings, who know these lands even better than the goblins. Then we shalld ecide what we'll do. All ye need now is to obey Thari and the healers, so that ye're back on yer feet as soon as possible. Rest now, Huskarl of Bundazanul, and know that yer name is now among the great of our clan", he adds. He starts to leave, as he shoorts a look at Thari (Frarin seems to be non-existant to the Thane), as he adds, "No excuses! We shall talk later, you and I". And with that Braldor leaves, leaving Ranol under the care of Thari.
Ohhh, the raised voices again. For a place of quiet rest, two nights now have seen anything but. Ranol is too worried about the orc for his fevered mind to sort out everything that's being said. Braldor's reassurances ease his stress some, and he eases back. That expression of worry is still upon his face, though. There's no chance for him to say anything as the Thane leaves, and the huskarl falls into a brooding silence.
[Frarin(#31050)] Despite being diligently ignored by the Thane, Frarin's temper seems not to be in the mood for rising this evening. Perhaps it is the enjoyable few hours he has spent at the tavern, but he simply rolls his eyes with no effort to conceal his disrespect as Braldor takes his leave. The Thane's departure seems to remove an invisible barrier and Frarin comes closer, seating himself on the bed beside Ranol.
"Rushing off into the wild unknown, yes that's very clever. Oh but wait, we /know/ it's a trap so all's well." His speech is very slightly slurred. But he holds up a hand before Ranol can say anything. "Don't worry, no disloyalty charges for you. I'll stop there and hold my damn tongue."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Papa would be a better Thane," Thari declares, hand to her hip as she stands. The bowl sloshes a bit over the edge again as she walks to put it back on the table. It must be admitted that she is swaying slightly. "Ooh, Durin, don't tell him that," she gasps suddenly, hand to her mouth. "I'm not supposed to say that in front of people."
Being denied the option of walking away from the conversation, Ranol simply tries to keep the scowl from touching his features, but doesn't completely succeed. It doesn't last long though as his worry crushes his annoyance. "I hope they don't make a mistake.. He'll talk to the Beornings. He will.."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin gives Thari a sarcastic smile, his eyes a bit dull. "He wouldn't believe me if I told him and somehow I doubt Ranol will tell him. Of course he'll talk to the Beornings," he snorts, sitting somehow vacantly hunched forward. "He isn't stupid, after all. That's right, bet you didn't think you'd ever hear that coming from me."
He sighs suddenly as if abruptly bored with the conversation and he claps his hands down on his knees. "Well, I've managed to disturb your sleep once again, Ranol. And here I thought I would simply peek in and see how you were doing. Well then." He stands as if preparing to leave.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'll talk to him, Ranol," Thari says firmly. "I can talk sense into Braldor. And even Lord Gimli." She sounds absolutely certain of herself as she walks toward the silversmith.
"Good night, Frarin dear," she says comfortably, leaning over to kiss his cheek even though Ranol is near and could see. "I'm going to sleep here tonight so I can be near Ranol. You should go straight to bed. You drink too much." She says this all quite cheerfully, her own eyes just a bit glassy too.
Ranol still looks deeply concerned, most of the words spoken barely registering. He's going over the conversation with Braldor, trying to remember everything that was said. There's nothing he can do now.. well, except worry. Thari speaks of convincing the Thane, but the huskarl only frowns in response, his blue gaze drifting away from the two. He's looking more feverish again, so perhaps his mind is wandering against his will. "I should have convinced him." He murmurs quietly, his tone angry.
[Frarin(#31050)] "As if he would have listened," Frarin mutters without any irritation at all, replying to Ranol. "Well, he'll figure it out at some point or another. Durin knows my trying to convince him won't do an ounce of good, I will leave that joyeous task up to you too."
His eyes close with a smile as Thari comes over and kisses his cheek and he says happily, "Yes dear. Straight to bed." A wink is given Ranol as if the huskarl is somehow a co-conspirator in some very amusing game. Who knows what funny little thoughts are going on the silversmith's head. Then he offers an exaggerrated bow to the two of them and turns.
And all the way to the door, he muttering entirely contentedly to himself. "I drink too much. Ah yes, very likely. But play the fiddle better that way, bet she doesn't know that. Smoke too much too, I imagine. But there you are, what's to be done--" And so on until the door clicks shut behind him and the infirmiry is left behind.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pats Frarin's cheek cheerfully as he agrees with her and turns away. She walks to Ranol with her rag and touches his brow again. "Stop worrying about it and go to sleep or I will drug you," she threatens, climbing into the next cot over with her boots still on.
"I'll sleep soon.. " Ranol responds, but he doesn't relax. Not right away. He stresses for quite some time, until weariness finally drags him to slumber, almost an hour later. The fever continues to burn at him, perhaps growing a bit worse, but he simply throws the sheets off and sleeps on. There's little more he can do.
Players: Ranol, Braldor, Thari, Frarin
Located in: Erebor
