Frarin wakes

The Chetwood
There is a large clearing in the trees here, a few hundred meters on each side. The clearing is in the shape of a rough oval, longer in the east-west direction than it is north-south. At the eastern side, the surrounding pines and thickets are thin enough that a faint trail can be made out. On all other sides the plant life appears to be impassable. The clearing is very large, a few hundred meters on a side. It appears to be a rough oval, long in the east-west direction, and thin in the north-south. At the east, the surrounding pines and thicket are thin enough that a trail can be made out, but on all other sides, the plant life is impassable. The clearing itself is home to a host of wildflowers, and many more insects. The very same insects produce quite a lot of noise despite their diminutive size. For the most part, the grasses and flowers remain knee deep for a human, or waist deep for a hobbit.
Contents:
Gandalf
Elladan
Thari
Ered-Luin Encampment
Kellan
Rhifaroth
Dwarven Camp
Obvious exits:
North, East, and West


[Thari(#31038)] The day is opressively hot, enough so that, despite how dry it is, the air seems thick and smothering. The injured do not get an easy sleep because of this, and the healthy must coax their cohorts to drink.

Thari has clean bandages strung out to dry along bushes at the edge of the clearing. These are often given posessive glances, but for now, the healer is sitting in the sun mending red cloth. In deference to the heat, the dwarf's hair and beard are both tightly braided.

Kellan groans from inside his tent. The high-warder appears slowly. He is sweating he wipes his brow on his forehead with his good arm. His other in a sling from the encounter with the troll he moves a little better now but ever slightly. "A fine day." he says kind of sarcastically to the healer he is in a bit of a foul mood since being thwaped, and losing a dwarf of the camp.

[Frarin] Little has changed for the silver merchant Frarin since the night before. His location has changed none, though he lies now on his back instead of his side. Still, though, his skin is cold and clammy despite the heat and he is covered by several blankets. At his side, his left arm is bound in a makeshift sling, but the broken limb has been carefully placed so as not to touch the dwarf's chest. Indeed, now that he lies upon his back, the shallowness of his chest is increasingly evident where bones should create a round, there seems instead a depression.

Perhaps the one improvement is that Frarin no longer spits blood alone. Harsh coughs continue to ripple through his broken form every few minutes, but now there are only flecks of red when spittle flies. His sleep, however, is no better. Again his unconscious prevents the painful rolling of his body, but his head lolls back and forth in his sleep.

At his side is a small flask, but it does not appear to have moved since its placement the night before.

Thari looks up from her mending and frowns. Down she looks and takes another stitch. Then up. She stands, walks over to Frarin with hardly a limp anymore, then sits on the ground beside him with a thump. The mending is settled in her lap and a hand goes to feel the merchant's brow. "You're stronger than this," she says quietly. "Fight it."

[Rhifaroth(#27282)] 
    Yes, it is a hot summer's day. The Ranger's camp is now entirely deserted and their fire from the night before is out cold. Even the injured Rhifaroth has wandered off now that he has managed to finish making his crutch, for he is now where to be seen.

From afar, Thari should research this healing time more, but oddly I seem to spend all of my research time on my schooling.

[Frarin] There is also perhaps one other perceptible difference in Frarin's condition. Although he is still restless in sleep, the occasional grunt or groan is no longer accompanied by a grimace. His coughing fits continue to draw shadows around his face and mouth, but small movements or noises seem to have been numbed by the strange, bitter medicine administered the night before.

Thari's touch brings a flutter of eyelids from the silver merchant and his restlessness ceases for a moment, mouth opening as she speaks to him. Then the moment is gone and a grunt follows another violent jerk of his head to the side. What does Frarin dream that brings him such trouble?

[Thari(#31038)] "Frarin, Frarin!" Thari's hand goes to the side of his head to try to stop this violent jerk. Her touch is withdrawn as she pulls her waterskin out, setting her mending aside. A hand is placed behind his head to lift it as the opening of the skin is put to his mouth. "Drink this. The more that you drink, the sooner this'll all be over, I daresay."

[Rhifaroth(#27282)] 
    From the west, there is a stirring, a faint sound as something comes along the trail towards the clearing. It is in dappled shadow of the wood, but then a man's tall form becomes visible, moving awkwardly.

    Just before entering the clearing, Rhifaroth pauses. He leans on his new crutch, taking a breather from his shuffling about. His grey cloak is folded up and laid around the strap of his small pack, it just being too hot to wear the Ranger's garb. The man is wet, his hair dripping onto his wet shirt, though his pants and other things are still dry.

    It would appear that he had found a creek and washed up, cooling off. But the baking sun out in the clearing, that is not inviting at all.

[Frarin] Frarin does indeed stop jerking at Thari's touch, and again his eyelids flutter weakly. Her hand reaches behind him and lifts his head forward and this, perhaps more than anything, is responsible for what happens next. The actual movement of his head seems to affect Frarin more than the concerned touches from before. For as his head is tipped forward, the silver merchant's eyelids flicker again, then slowly part. Heavy and groggy, the dark eyes half open.

There is still the same distracted look behind them, but they seem at least somewhat more focused. Instead of passing like glass over Thari's face, they linger there, darting about as if Frarin is unable to keep them still. He blinds sleepily several times and, for the moment, seems entirely unaware of the waterskin pressed to his closed lips.

[Thari(#31038)] "Good lad," Thari says encouragingly. "Open your mouth now and drink. Don't think I'm above threatening you again." The healer gives the merchant's open eyes a half-smile, and that same half-smile is given upon glancing up and spying Rhifaroth.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)] 
    There is a long pause while the man rests, or considers whether or not to enter into the blazing sunlight. But finally, the tattooed Southerner begins to ease out int the clearing. Movement is awkward with the crutch, but far better than not being mobile at all. He uses it on his left side, keeping his weight off of that leg and moving it around as little as he may.

    It takes him a little time, but eventually the Dunadan makes his way over towards where Thari is yet again seeing to Frarin. Is that the smell of soap?

    Rhifaroth stops fairly close and looks at Frarin, then gives Thari an inclination of his head, "Thari... how does he fair? Any better?"

[Frarin] A gurgle begins low in Frarin's throat and soon translates to a wracking cough that causes the dwarf to clench his eyes shut in pain. But unlike before, they open again after this pained instinct passes. Still groggy and drugged, his darting gaze goes again to Thari. With the barest tip of his head forward, Frarin accepts the contents of the waterskin. Swallowing seems an effort, but he does so sleepily and silently.

His eyes narrow to a squint as a tall form descends upon him and Thari, as if looking towards the hot summer sky is too bright for him. The silver merchant's chin rises a fraction of an inch as Rhifaroth speaks to the healer and his lips part, but again no sound is forthcoming.

[Combat Function Library(#15)] Thari tends to the injuries on Frarin.
HEALING: Thari attempts to treat your wounds...

[Thari(#31038)] "Better, of course he's better." Thari answers stoutly. Frarin's head is settled again on the ground, and as he squints, the healer's hand is flattened in the air to cast shadows above his eyes. The waterbag is removed from the merchant's lips. "Honestly, I'm about ready for this whole business to be over with. Soon I think. Surely." For a moment the healer's eyes are bleak while looking up at the man.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)] 
    Leaning on his crutch, Rhifaroth thins his lips into a hard line as he listens to Thari and watches the Dwarf try to shield Frarin's eyes, "Don't you have a shelter, a tarp or tent you could errect to give him some protection from this heat?" The man gestures towards the trees, "Some of this brush could be cleared to open up access into the shade of the trees, as well."

    After a moment, looking at Frarin, Rhifaroth adds in a lower voice, "If he'll stabilize, maybe you should send him back to Bree. A bed at the Pony might do him well."

[Frarin] Frarin blinks sleepily again as Thari removes the waterskin from his mouth. Still squinting up at the standing man, his mouth opens again and again there is no sound. There is, however, a very slight rise in his brows at Rhifaroth's mention of Bree and a much more noticeable sudden coughing fit. A gurgle somewhat akin to a growl rumbles through Frarin's chest.

Kellan is moving only slightly easier very tender ribs and his arm still in a sling. He looks around a bit spotting the healer a smile comes over his bearded face. He makes his way over. "Sorry to bother, but is there any way you'd be able to change these bandages? Afraid the heat and wounds aren't mixing so well." the dwarf gives a hearty laugh and a wince.

[Thari(#31038)] "Don't you say things like that!" Thari snaps at Rhifaroth. "Send him straight beyond, talk like that will. You don't go and tell dwarves like him that you're leaving them off somewhere like that! And you!" The healer points down at Frarin's nose. "You calm down. There's no need for you getting all worked up and choking yourself."

"I can't move him, but aye, somebody needs to give him a tent. With all of the lazy--" Thari's tirade is interrupted by Kellan and the healer looks up with fire in the silvery-grey eyes. "Yes, yes, fine," comes the grumble. Up the healer jumps while reaching for Kellan's bandages.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)] 
    Still standing, leaning on his crutch, the man arches a black brow at the Dwarf's outburst at his own suggestion. Rhifaroth's scarred and tattooed face frowns faintly, "I do not understand your objection, but it's none of my affair. Do as you think best."

    Giving Frarin a last look, and only a passing glance at Kellan, the tall man begins to turn to head back to the cooler shade of the trees - rather than to linger out here in the clearing under the summer sun.

[A_tiny_troll(#9802)] Hey! It's the Chetwood, right? It's near Bree and we all know Bree is home to some very strange creatures. Speaking of which, an odd shadowy form moves through the trees on hands and knees, busily digging away at the dirt and not paying much attention to anything else.

[Frarin] The sleepy look passes over Frarin face again, even as Thari berates his coughing fit. He even gives a small yawn, the drug earlier administered preventing a grimace as his chest rises shallow. The silver merchant, for the time however, seems content to curb his opinion. Not he has a great deal of choice in the matter. Instead of look skyward to the hot, bright day, his eyes begin to close again.

Thari feels Kellan over and adjusts the sling, the whole while looking as if she'd like to murder someone, hopefully him. "Nothing I can do about rib wounds. They heal on their own. Don't move your arm. You'll be fine."

Thari sits down then again beside Frarin and rubs her forehead with her hand. There's even a sigh.

[Combat Function Library(#15)] Thari tends to the injuries on Kellan.

Thari's head slowly lifts and the healer looks to the side while tugging at a braid-beard. Suddenly all motions are halted. "What's that?" Thari asks no one and everyone, pointing at the digging creature.

[Frarin] The silver merchant's tired eyes flip half-open again as Thari resettles next to him. Even with his eyes unable to focus on one point, a frown pulls at the corners of his mouth as Thari rubs at her forehead. Is that frustration? Irritation? Weariness? And as the healer looks down and lets out a sigh, Frarin groggily opens his mouth.

His voice is not even a whisper. It might be a whisper if the sound did not catch in the back of his throat and cut off the single uttered word before it is even entirely out of his mouth. But that little bit that makes it out is practically wheezed. "Thar-" There is perhaps a question behind his utterance, but it is so brief that it might go entirely unheard, especially as Thari's attention seems suddenly gripped by something beyond Frarin's view.

A_tiny_troll daintily severs some earth born delicacy, gives it a dusting off with a corner of her cloak, and pops it in her mouth. As she chews she sits back on her rump to serenly survey her surroundings. A mostly unseen frown grows as she discovers she isn't alone. What causes the forwnmay be in what she sees, dwarves, or her not taking notice of them while pursuing that particularly wily fungus. Continuing to chew, she gives a cautious little wave with a loam and mud covered hand.

Thari hears Frarin's half-word. A quick and searching glance is given to the merchant, and then the healer's hand is laid on his good shoulder. "Peace."

Then up again to the distant form. "What IS that?" Thari asks again. "If it's an orc I'm killing it right now." The healer rocks forward as if to stand, then pauses, agape. "It's wavin' at me! I've never seen an orc do that unless its wavin' its bottom. What are you?" That last sentence is a noisy shout.

[A_tiny_troll(#9802)] The cloaked figure quickly turns it's head to look behind her. The head then shakes as all she sees is trees and a dwarf would certainly know what they were. She casts looks about a bit more but the gloom reveals nothing else. Shrugging, she turns back to observe the dwarves again. A thought occurs to her and she gets to her feet, swinging her sack onto her back. The thought that maybe these dwarves are out of sorts, or even downright unfriendly.

[Frarin] Frarin falls silent as Thari bids him be at peace, but the lines around his mouth and eyes contort into a look of both frustration and confusion, almost like a child's. The shock of his attack may be waining, but certainly Frarin does not seem mentally back to normal just yet. His eyes unfocus as he blinks slowly. Even the alarm in Thari's voice does not seem enough to rouse him from his gradual sink back into unconsciousness.
Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.

[Thari(#31038)] "I think it's just a crazy Breefolk woman." Thari settles back on heels and gives Frarin another look and a frown. "You go back to sleep. Is that what's troubling you? I'll sort this out and we'll get you a tent or something." The healer starts to stand.

A_tiny_troll gets to her feet, casting her hood back as she stands up straight. At once she presents a paradox. That certain something of the dignity and grace of the elves manages to show. Manages to show through months, possibly years of dirt and grime and not having seen a hair brush or washbasin. She offers a small discreet curtsy, a tiny smile, then takes a large bite from something she holds before offering a softly spoken "Goofg efenng!"

[Frarin] Frarin's mouth opens again, but only a gurgle and a spat of coughing follows, this time not brought on by an objection. Indeed, the silver merchant seems to agree with the healer's commands without issue. Whatever the strange thing that grips Thari's attention is, Frarin seems either too tired or confident that she will Deal With It to worry too much. The tension in his face loosens, then relaxes entirely as sleep overcomes him. Less restless is this sleep, though by no means entirely without trouble. And with Thari's medicine still circulating through his body, pain is, at least for the time, dispelled.