Prisoner or Guest (Three Horses and an Ass TP)
Old South Road - Gap of Rohan
The old south road is very faint here, running in a more or less east-west direction. The grass is high and has encroached on the once-proud road, its stones worn away and seamed with grass grown in the cracks. To the north and the south the foothills and rising peaks of the mountains, the Grey and the White, can be seen. The road turns northwards eventually, towards the wild hills and fells of Dunland and the barren regions beyond, but eastwards the road runs to the rich plains of Rohan.
Contents:
Tet’Nak
Arathis
Menelglir
Gondorian Wagon(#2030OXen)
Obvious exits:
NorthWest leads to Old South Road - Dunland and the Gap of Rohan.
East leads to Old South Road - Gap of Rohan.
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] The sky is clear, but the snow is falling, wet and powdery. The sun shines brightly, reducing some of the impact of the snow on the ground, but this is February near Dunland, and the weather is seldom tranquil.
In the camp just south of Dunland, in the Gap of Rohan, sits the outsider, the visiter, warming his hands by the fire that gives off warmth to the entire camp this day.
[Menelglir(#1394)]
Following the instructions of "Hir Turion," Menelglir has ensured that the stranger is never left alone. At the moment, this informal guard consists of the young squire standing nearby, alternately watching the man and the horizon. At last he turns back to the fire, coming over to sit on a small rock near the fire so as to warm his hands. "How would you plan to get us through Dunland?" he asks Ian quietly, with no further greeting or small talk.
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] Ian cranes his neck, looking over his shoulder at the boy. "What use would I be if I told you all my secrets?" he asks, "But, the gist of it is simple, keep you from being noticed. That is quite a bit more difficult with twenty Rohirrim, as I confesed yesterday. I think I would be completely successfull with you, and your people, but the Rohir ..." He shakes his head, "It is a risky proposition, and one I do not know if I would like to be apart of."
[Menelglir(#1394)]
The youth pulls his cloak closer about him, then picks up a stick to poke at the fire. "If you don't tell us -some- of your plans, we will have nothing with which to judge whether we should trust you or not, no?" Menelglir grimaces. "Why not just...hide their hair somehow? Hoods? Helms?" he struggles.
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] Ian frowns, "Well, I am afraid I do not think it would work very well." He sighs, "I would be afraid for many reasons, they are all vastly pale in compared to the Dunlendings, even with their hair covered. Blue eyes are as rare as blond hair. And no offense to our Rohir friends, I am not sure they could keep the peace. Getting into a fight, or what have you, would doom your goal. I could take you /far/ around Dunland, into Enedwaith, but you do not want to add a month to your trip, I suspect."
[Arathis]
A gait determined carries Arathis of Calembel, monikered as Turion of Cardolan, before the twain of visitor and squire. His footfall appears burdened by haste: speech flows from him even before he has halted, its tambre rough in manner.
“Tell me of these forts: their location and their material.”
A silken map of Dunland is revealed, unfolded nimbly besides the visitor.
[Menelglir(#1394)]
"A month..." Menelglir pokes the fire further with the stick. "How many weeks to get to Bree, if we go through Dunland unhindered? And tis not my decision, you understand," the 16-year-old smiles, as if that needs to be stated at all. But he springs to his feet at the approach of Arathis, not waiting for an answer from the stranger. "Sir." The crisp greeting is given to the Knight.
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] "They are along the road," Ian answers, looking at the map. "How old is this?" he quips, looking up, then over to the youth. "Perhaps a month, it depends upon the weather. As you might have guessed," he says, looking up into the snow filled sky, "This is not the quickest time of the year to travel through Dunland." He does not give Turion the answers he seeks specifically, simply turning back to the fire and warming his hands.
[Arathis]
Impatience marks the arrived: his eyes narrow, and he folds inwards upon the visitor. So he grates, his tone at once both quiet and imperial:
“I am Arathis, Lord of Calembel and Dolwinion, of the Isilrim descended of Beor the Old, and Herald to the Prince of Dol Amroth.
“You shall begin the journey through Dunland as my prisoner. You shall end it as a wealthy man.
“Now, show me the location of the forts along the road, and tell me their material.”
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] Standing, slowly, Ian looks over at Arathis. "Prisoner?" He frowns, "What gives you the right of such?" His face turns into a scowl, "I came here with an offer of my services. I came here as a friend, and this is how I am repaid." He waves a hand to this Lord of Calembel. "You are in Dunland, or very nearly so, none of your titles give you any rights here."
[Menelglir(#1394)]
Already standing, Menelglir's eyes widen in surprise as Arathis now uses his true name. He moves to form the third side of a square between the two men and, frowning at Ian's objections, addresses the Knight, the tone of his words placating. "
[Arathis]
“You are alone in my camp, among my peoples, under my guard. Thus my rights find basis beyond my titles,” answers the Dunadan Lord, rising to the full of his stature. Scouting coldly down upon the visitor, as if to assess him, he continues:
“The agents of our Enemy come first heavy with services, and as unfound friends.” His features tighten.
“You will be barred from free travel, and will live under guard. But you will be well fed and protected. In this sense you are my prisoner. But the end of your stay with me is passage through Dunland, at which you shall be rewarded by a southern lord. In this sense you are not.
“It is a regretful situation, but you have introduced yourself as learned thus you may understand it.”
Turning to the squire, he remarks flatly, “
“Now, the forts.”
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] Ian smiles, and sits back down, warming his hands by the fire. "What forts?" he asks, rolling his shoulders as he seems to be attempting to get comfortable. The old man pulls his hood over his head, protecting his grey hair from the pure white snow that falls from the heavens.
[Menelglir(#1394)]
"Yes, sir," Menelglir notes in the common language. "Except he does not seem to be so amenable to this agreement, sir," he says plainly, glancing at the old man.
[Arathis]
The response from the visitor prompts a smirk upon the otherwise fair visage of Arathis. It is asymmetric, bending curiously more to one side.
His gaze slowly switches between the pair before him and, words escaping from his smirk, he states, “Let him not forget that his amenities during his stay lie at my hand.”
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] "I am an old man, I have traveled through Dunland in this weather many times, do you think I am not used to hardship?" Ian chortles, "Dunland has not these amenities that Gondorians do. I think you will find my life has been hard enough that such threats will not sway me." He shakes his head, "I had heard about Gondorian righteousness and Gondorian selfishness and ego. I now see which is the truth." Ian pulls his hands away from the fire and tuck them into his cloak, "If you wish my aid, I shall give it, under my own free will."
[Arathis]
A nod is given to the man of Dunland, and the Lord Isilrim momentarily glances upwards to the heavens. At length, he speaks, riveted still skywards:
“You will find during your stay that I am not too unkind a man. And perhaps also that the men of Gondor have sacrificed much and not for their own ends.”
Pausing, he turns as to leave. “Our scouts shall discover any forts. It would be better for you and your reward to inform us of them. Thus I shall come to you in the morning, again with my map.
“You are permitted to carry your blade. Should you decide it worthwhile to attempt to overcome your guards and forfeit your reward, you may. But I would advise against it.”
With this, and a gesture to assign a pair more men to the body of the visitor, he departs.
[Menelglir(#1394)]
Menelglir watches the departure of the Knight in silence, then turns to the old man without a word.
[Tet'Nak(#6174)] Ian shakes his head, he does not appear intent on using his blade, "Fool," he grumbles to himself, perhaps speaking about the Gondorian Lord, or perhaps himself.
