Elendor
The Pretender Chronicles: Answers
Ranger Amrundirn gets the answers he sought, at a cost.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Poros Crossing
Game Date: January 29 3047
IC Time: Midday
Description: Crossing of Poros River, Narakshi Camps
Along the sparsely wooded south bank are a series of tribal camps which extend some distance to either side of the Harad Road. Many pale colored tents and pavillions are grouped in circular clusters. Before most of the pavillions are poles set deeply into the dry earth and upon these are impaled dried up human and orc heads, scalps, and various other kinds of grizly trophies of war.
The Harad road here has become almost impassiable with the herds of loose livestock. They are carefully tended by mounted and armed Narakshi Outriders who watch alertly. Long legged dogs also roam the camps individually or in packs and are quick to give alarm.
To the north the Poros spreads out in its wide banks, forming what looks to be an easy ford. The remains of several wagons jut up out of the water, suggesting otherwise. To the south the thin grassland gives way to desert.
[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Early Afternoon on Sunday, Day 29 of January.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 18:27:39 MDT on Mon Jun 01 2009.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The fords glitter in the midday sun. The air, for the most part still but now and again there is a breeze from the west, bearing with it a much coveted cool freshness, from the sea.
Otherwise, there is little of either.
Laid prostrate on his belly on the sand thither, near to the smoldering remains of watchfire, a figure swathed in earthen hues, hands bound behind the small of his back. He seems asleep, but for his stillness: his chest heaves with each breath, but that is all. Amrundirn this is, not yet recovered, as it would appear.
Ceredir:
Next to the fire, another man in greens and browns, poking at the remains of the fire with a long stick. His attention, though, is split three ways: to the fire, half-heartedly, as if bored to the prone figure of his countryman to the activities in the camp that surrounds the two men and the guards stationed nearby, watching both men.
The sun beats down relentlessly, and Ceredir reaches for the waterskin slung across his back, drawing a long drink. He pauses, cork in hand, then pours a little water into his hand and moves forward on his knees to try to rub some water on the back of the Ranger's neck.
"Amrundirn. Sir..."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
The flap to one of the tents pulls aside, and a somewhat familiar figure (as Haradrim go) steps out. She stands in the warm sun for a minute, just taking in the scenery, then her eyes travel over to where the prisoner lays, and she moves over that way with a slow step. It is Eruphel, Lady of Seaward, and the guards show her respect and honor, but not deference, necessarily. And, despite the rowdiness of the last day or so, she appears to be in fine shape.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Sandstrewn raven hair stirs, as does the sand 'neath his cheek, even as the prisoner comes to jerking his head back at the cool -- though lukewarm is perhaps more likely -- touch. His eyelids flick open for moment, and close quickly under a furrowed brow. His one hand moves and the other follows involuntarily, as if to lift it to his head, perhaps, but it is halted soon enough by the restrains. The Ranger grows still, groaning quietly.
But for only a moment or two. He rolls over to his side, away from Ceredir, and draws a gasping breath. "Who are you?" He voices hoarsely, even on the exhale.
Ceredir:
"Lady.." Ceredir starts to greet Eruphel, even so far as starting to rise, only to be drawn back down again by movement and then a groan from the Ranger. Only a few days ago, his hand had been straying to the hilt of his dagger as he followed behind the man, but now concern and worry washes over the Master Scout's face.
"Ceredir, sir. Ceredir. We.." A brief glance to Eruphel as the woman approaches, his eyes seeking hers, "..we are prisoners, but as we are officers, at the moment they are treating us with courtesy."
"Drink." The waterskin is still uncorked, and now Ceredir brings it around to Amrundirn, offering it to him and moving to try to help lift the Ranger's head slightly to help him drink if the man lets him.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel comes to a stop before the two prisoners, listening to their exchange with curiosity. She raises an eyebrow at Ceredir's explanation about treating them with courtesy, but says nothing about it, or even makes a sound to alert the other prisoner of her presence...yet. Instead, she folds her arms across her chest, and leans more on one leg, her hip jutting out a little.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The Poros basks in the midday sun, with bright gleam on the waters, and sparse wind the air is mostly still otherwise. In the makeshift encampment of the Haradrim there, by the remains of the fire, three figures seem present the catch of yestereve, one of which seem to be helping the other, who is lying down, drink. And Eruphel, watching the pair close by.
A mouthfull, that is all, ere Amrundirn turns his head away.
The assistance lended is used, then, to sit up. His weathered face is worn and weary, and perhaps the scowl on it is temporary rather than a resident feature. His eyes fleet first to Ceredir and away, as if regaing his bearings. They are bloodshot and narrow, but open at least. They pause after a moment, at the feet of Eruphel.
But he speaks to Ceredir all the same. "Then how is it that I am bound and you are not?"
Ceredir:
As Amrundirn shifts to sit up, Ceredir glances at Eruphel, hazarding a small shrug of just one shoulder, his body angled so that the Ranger would have to turn his head to see the movement.
" Because," he replies, capping the waterskin and slinging it across his back once more, " I am known to them--I am branded and they hold my wife hostage. And on account of her life, I did not attack them, but only sought to get the Captain Azradi out of the way. And so..perhaps...they trust me still. If they do not..we have no chance of getting out of here." The words, a long string of them, are spoken in a melodic language.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel takes a step forward, and turns her head to the side to allow Amrundirn's head to be viewed in a more typical up/down pattern, rather than sideways as his posture dictates. Her arms still folded, she squats down next to the prisoner, which brings sudden pressure to her head, and makes her tender flesh throb. She flinches at that and touches it gingerly, then rests her elbows on her knees for balance and stability. At least as Ceredir sits Amrundirn up, she doesn't have to cant her head so. Eruphel listens to the strange, melodic tongue with wonder, then says after a few moments, "I've seen you before, haven't I. We met in battle."
[Azradi(#20135)]
"So forthcoming? I did not expect that Ceredir," comes a woman's voice. The owner strides into view, coming up from behind Eruphel. The tall Corsair examines the Ranger with a critical eye. "He is unbound because I ordered it so. I will not waste a man on your care if he can see to it."
Azradi's grey eyes shift to meet and perhaps hold the Master Scout's. "And he cares for you because he is conflicted."
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"I do not, you mean?"
But Amrundirn does not look away, even at Azradi's answer and his own for Ceredir is not spoken in the language of the stone folk, but westron. His voice is returned in full, it seems, though he speaks quietly without muttering of whispering. All the while his eyes widen little by little. "So we have, though I cannot say when. But I recall your face." He tells Eruphel now, and his glance fleets to her temple.
"Which of you is Azradi?"
Ceredir:
In the midday sun, it's quite clear that Ceredir's face reddens both at Azradi's words and as her eyes meet his. He drops his gaze first.
"Captain," he says quietly. "He is my brother in arms, and such bonds are hard to just break fully. But conflicted..."
"No. I know where my duty lies."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel throws an accusatory thumb over her shoulder at Azradi, then folds her arms back over her knees, still squatting. "What I would like to know is...why did you assault us in such a manner by the river? I vaguely remember you saying you did not wish to fight." All this is in Westron, and her eyes flick toward Ceredir's embarrassment with some interest.
[Azradi(#20135)]
"I am a Southron," Azradi replies to Ceredir. "I know well what it means to be conflicted. A friend today can become an enemy tomorrow. One hopes only to be asked to step aside rather than be the hand that deals death in such situations - I wish neither to kill a friend nor be killed by one."
The Farside lady folds her arms across her chest and shifts her gaze to the Ranger. "Aye, I am Azradi anAzulada, Fleet Master and Captain of Farside."
"And yes," she adds, smiling, "if you are curious - sister to the man who claims Gondor's throne." She falls silent then, waiting for the man to answer Eruphel's question.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"If I wanted to kill you, I would've shot you," Amrundirn answers dryly without answering, gaze rising now to where Eruphel's thumb points to settle on Azradi's face. His red-rimmed eyes narrow lightly at that, and he mutters: "Perhaps I should have."
His tone grows firm then, "The choice of claiming Gondor from Umbar is... interesting."
Ceredir:
"I have not been faced with that before, Captain," Ceredir answers, "but I will learn, I suspect, as this unfolds. Many..." he glances to the Ranger briefly, "will object, I'm afraid."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel glances at Ceredir again, but keeps her attention focused on the other prisoner. "Exactly so. A lone arrow, or even a charge across the river is what I would have expected. So why did you attack us in that manner?" Eruphel asks again. "For your answer, we could perhaps...make you more comfortable."
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi smiles when the Ranger threatens her. She unfolds her arms, offering Ceredir only a momentary glance. "Lady Eruphel asked you a question. Why did you come here? What do you seek?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The ranger's glance drops to the sand as he turns his head halfway toward Ceredir at his answer for Azradi.
A snort then, before he looks to the swarthy of the two women.
"Perhaps you would do me the favor of freeing my hands?" he says, and his question in turn is dry. The answer to them both, however, is not. "I came seeking answers."
"I have learned some things to which you are doubtless privy, and guessed at their designs. The answers lay here, so I thought."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"Well, now you have made me curious." Eruphel says, cocking her head just a little. "And if a Gondorian needs his hands to speak, then surely we can accommodate. Azradi?" She glances up now at the lady of Farside in askance.
Ceredir:
"I told you, Amrundirn," Ceredir scowls. "But hear it from them instead." He falls silent, watching the Captain to her response to the Ranger's request.
[Azradi(#20135)]
"Lady Eruphel offered to make you more comfortable in exchange for your story," Azradi says, nodding in agreement to the Seaward Lady. "We are a people of our word, though your kin seem to not believe it."
"Untie his hands, Ceredir," the Farside lady orders.
"To begin with, Gondorian: What is your name?"
Amrundirn(#29212)]
The Ranger in turn quirks a brow at Azradi's command.
"You have left much unsaid, master scout."
To Azradi he says: "Very well. If that is what you would have me believe then I will humor you for the nonce. I am Amrundirn of Mormegil Carmayar, son of Iarthol."
"As for my errand..." He cocks his head lightly towards Ceredir, a movement that he seems to regret the moment after by the frown that fleets across his face. "I would learn of this one's dealings with the pretender."
Ceredir:
Behind Amrundin, untying the Ranger's hands, Ceredir looks up to Azradi. "He guessed much," he says quietly. "The brand. He saw it and then guessed some things."
[<#20109>] Eruphel stretches, working a kink out of the muscles in her neck, and shifting her weight in the low squat to ease some discomfort. She regards the two together and then says in the native, southron tongue, "I think perhaps we should separate them. They both strike me as afraid to speak before the other."
" Eventually," Azradi answers Eruphel, her voice casual. " But there is much to learn by what they do not wish to speak in front of one another and what they do to avoid it. We should return to Umbar soon and take this one with us. As for Ceredir," she glances at the Master Scout a moment as she mentions his name, " I may send him back to Gondor. The longer he is away the more suspicion he arouses."
She smiles then, returning her gaze to the Ranger. In Westron she says: 'Well met, Amrundin. Your friend here recognizes my brother as his rightful King and wishes to see him installed in Minas Tirith - for the betterment of Gondor.'
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
A sigh.
Whilst massaging one wrist each in turn, Amrundirn looks first to Azradi, and then Eruphel throughout their exchange. But he pauses, and his glance toward Azradi turns into a level stare, and the knuckles of the hand presently grasping his other wrist whiten. "Does he indeed?" His voice is quiet now. "And you know this? How?"
But he does not smile.
Ceredir:
"Because I swore my loyalty to Lord Alphros, Ranger," Ceredir says. With the Ranger's hands untied, he stands and walks around to face the man as he speaks. "He is the rightful king of Gondor, and I swore my life and loyalty to him. As should you." Though he may have been wavering and concerned before, Ceredir's expression has now hardened, and his eyes are cold.
"Captain." He addresses Azradi, turning to her. "This man was my brother in arms, part of the Company of men I was sworn to protect with my own life. But...all things must pass and this must pass too. He knows too much--he can singlehandedly destroy all that I have been working for on behalf of your brother."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"Hmm...kill him. Or give him to me." Eruphel smiles a mean smile. "Hate to see flesh wasted." Her eyes rove over the man, judging his age and fitness. "Need to stock up on slaves. Should your brother succeed in achieving his throne, I imagine we won't be like to do this anymore."
[Azradi(#20135)]
"Because," Azradi answers Amrundirn after Ceredir himself does, "He says so and more. He returned to us of his own free will - knowing we would want to kill him after his failed attempt on my brother's life. And because that brand you saw was chosen freely as well. We did not force it on him."
"He will not return to Gondor, Ceredir," the Farside lady promises, glancing to the Master Scout and then once more to Eruphel. "Aye, if we do not execute him, we will likely sell him. Though I suppose Alphros might have other ideas."
"Well Amrundirn," she continues, returning her regard to the Ranger, "you know the truth now. Was it worth your life?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Slowly and leaned lightly on one hand, the Ranger comes to his feet.
"So then. I am answered," He does not say as much as he growls it, and when he continues he speaks first to Ceredir with surety, and his gaze on the man is cold. "Know this, betrayer. You will answer for your crimes, in one way or another. I swear it." He turns his head to the Farside Corsair, and his glance in passing Eruphel grows cold, but he tells her nothing. And as he sets eyes on Alphros' sister, his countenance is graced with a stern and grim, and wholly mirthless smile.
"Yes, Azradi of Farside. Yes it was."
Ceredir:
"Swear all you want, old man, call me what you want. I know the truth. I know what my heart tells me, and I follow it. I remain faithful to Gondor and to her King, and many agree with me--and their numbers grow every day," Ceredir says, nearly spitting his words. He draws himself up proudly.
"I am no betrayer."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel rises to stand, her knees complaining after the long strain, and she shakes her legs out just a little. "Its okay. You can look at me, Amrundirn..." she says, then looks about the camp. "Lets get some chains on him, shall we?"
[Azradi(#20135)]
"I am glad, you have found the answers you seek," Azradi replies with a cool smile, her tone a mockery of gracious manners. Though, in truth, there is no malice for the Ranger in her eyes. She looks away. "We have a secure room," He can stay there for the night. I suggest we return to Umbar in the morning," she says to Eruphel.
First taking a moment to gesture for a guard to approach, she then turns to Ceredir. "How long can you be gone before you arouse suspicions? Can you return with us to Umbar for a short time?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"You know the truth?"
The Ranger turns his head to face Ceredir, and the likeness of a smile remains. "It is a great irony, boy, and a sad one. For truth is the one thing you are incapable of."
Azradi recieves no answer save a glance for the duration of her reply.
"Bring your chains," He tells Eruphel then, "Or your swords. I have suffered this cretin long enough."
Ceredir:
"A short while, yes, if you need me, Captain. There was a note I tried to pass to..." Lashing out in sudden anger, Ceredir's fist flies toward the Ranger's face, though, so that he does not finish his thought.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"As you say." the Seaward Lady agrees. She turns toward the camp and whistles once to garner the attention of some guards. They approach as might be expected. "Put him in shackles and place him in the secure room, with two guards." she orders, and then turns just as Ceredir assaults Amrundirn, somewhat surprised. "Break them up!" she shouts to the guards, and tries to step in herself.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Funny enough, the blow is a true one, connecting with the Ranger's temple. He hasn't the time to react. His knees seem to give way underneath him even as he topples forward to the side, ending up motionless on the the ground.
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi nods to the rushing guards and backs away slightly from the fracas. Her expression is one of amusement. "Careful Eruphel," she says to the woman as she tries to intervene.
One of the Farside soldiers grabs Ceredir roughly, seizing his arms to restrain him. Two others crouch down to pick up the unconscious Ranger and carry him back to the garrison's secure room.
"Cool your heals, Ceredir. The Southron sun has gotten to you," she says to the Master Scout. "We return to Umbar tomorrow by ship. There you can give your reports in person. I will return you as close to Gondor as I dare to hasten your journey home."
The Master Scout is dragged away easily enough: As soon as Amrundirn drops to the ground, the fight and anger drain away, and Ceredir looks pale and shaken again--perhaps the realization of what he is really in for has hit him.
"Yes, Captain," he answers a bit shakily, then lets the Farside guides lead him to the garrison.
Along the sparsely wooded south bank are a series of tribal camps which extend some distance to either side of the Harad Road. Many pale colored tents and pavillions are grouped in circular clusters. Before most of the pavillions are poles set deeply into the dry earth and upon these are impaled dried up human and orc heads, scalps, and various other kinds of grizly trophies of war.
The Harad road here has become almost impassiable with the herds of loose livestock. They are carefully tended by mounted and armed Narakshi Outriders who watch alertly. Long legged dogs also roam the camps individually or in packs and are quick to give alarm.
To the north the Poros spreads out in its wide banks, forming what looks to be an easy ford. The remains of several wagons jut up out of the water, suggesting otherwise. To the south the thin grassland gives way to desert.
[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Early Afternoon on Sunday, Day 29 of January.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 18:27:39 MDT on Mon Jun 01 2009.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The fords glitter in the midday sun. The air, for the most part still but now and again there is a breeze from the west, bearing with it a much coveted cool freshness, from the sea.
Otherwise, there is little of either.
Laid prostrate on his belly on the sand thither, near to the smoldering remains of watchfire, a figure swathed in earthen hues, hands bound behind the small of his back. He seems asleep, but for his stillness: his chest heaves with each breath, but that is all. Amrundirn this is, not yet recovered, as it would appear.
Ceredir:
Next to the fire, another man in greens and browns, poking at the remains of the fire with a long stick. His attention, though, is split three ways: to the fire, half-heartedly, as if bored to the prone figure of his countryman to the activities in the camp that surrounds the two men and the guards stationed nearby, watching both men.
The sun beats down relentlessly, and Ceredir reaches for the waterskin slung across his back, drawing a long drink. He pauses, cork in hand, then pours a little water into his hand and moves forward on his knees to try to rub some water on the back of the Ranger's neck.
"Amrundirn. Sir..."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
The flap to one of the tents pulls aside, and a somewhat familiar figure (as Haradrim go) steps out. She stands in the warm sun for a minute, just taking in the scenery, then her eyes travel over to where the prisoner lays, and she moves over that way with a slow step. It is Eruphel, Lady of Seaward, and the guards show her respect and honor, but not deference, necessarily. And, despite the rowdiness of the last day or so, she appears to be in fine shape.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Sandstrewn raven hair stirs, as does the sand 'neath his cheek, even as the prisoner comes to jerking his head back at the cool -- though lukewarm is perhaps more likely -- touch. His eyelids flick open for moment, and close quickly under a furrowed brow. His one hand moves and the other follows involuntarily, as if to lift it to his head, perhaps, but it is halted soon enough by the restrains. The Ranger grows still, groaning quietly.
But for only a moment or two. He rolls over to his side, away from Ceredir, and draws a gasping breath. "Who are you?" He voices hoarsely, even on the exhale.
Ceredir:
"Lady.." Ceredir starts to greet Eruphel, even so far as starting to rise, only to be drawn back down again by movement and then a groan from the Ranger. Only a few days ago, his hand had been straying to the hilt of his dagger as he followed behind the man, but now concern and worry washes over the Master Scout's face.
"Ceredir, sir. Ceredir. We.." A brief glance to Eruphel as the woman approaches, his eyes seeking hers, "..we are prisoners, but as we are officers, at the moment they are treating us with courtesy."
"Drink." The waterskin is still uncorked, and now Ceredir brings it around to Amrundirn, offering it to him and moving to try to help lift the Ranger's head slightly to help him drink if the man lets him.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel comes to a stop before the two prisoners, listening to their exchange with curiosity. She raises an eyebrow at Ceredir's explanation about treating them with courtesy, but says nothing about it, or even makes a sound to alert the other prisoner of her presence...yet. Instead, she folds her arms across her chest, and leans more on one leg, her hip jutting out a little.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The Poros basks in the midday sun, with bright gleam on the waters, and sparse wind the air is mostly still otherwise. In the makeshift encampment of the Haradrim there, by the remains of the fire, three figures seem present the catch of yestereve, one of which seem to be helping the other, who is lying down, drink. And Eruphel, watching the pair close by.
A mouthfull, that is all, ere Amrundirn turns his head away.
The assistance lended is used, then, to sit up. His weathered face is worn and weary, and perhaps the scowl on it is temporary rather than a resident feature. His eyes fleet first to Ceredir and away, as if regaing his bearings. They are bloodshot and narrow, but open at least. They pause after a moment, at the feet of Eruphel.
But he speaks to Ceredir all the same. "Then how is it that I am bound and you are not?"
Ceredir:
As Amrundirn shifts to sit up, Ceredir glances at Eruphel, hazarding a small shrug of just one shoulder, his body angled so that the Ranger would have to turn his head to see the movement.
"
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel takes a step forward, and turns her head to the side to allow Amrundirn's head to be viewed in a more typical up/down pattern, rather than sideways as his posture dictates. Her arms still folded, she squats down next to the prisoner, which brings sudden pressure to her head, and makes her tender flesh throb. She flinches at that and touches it gingerly, then rests her elbows on her knees for balance and stability. At least as Ceredir sits Amrundirn up, she doesn't have to cant her head so. Eruphel listens to the strange, melodic tongue with wonder, then says after a few moments, "I've seen you before, haven't I. We met in battle."
[Azradi(#20135)]
"So forthcoming? I did not expect that Ceredir," comes a woman's voice. The owner strides into view, coming up from behind Eruphel. The tall Corsair examines the Ranger with a critical eye. "He is unbound because I ordered it so. I will not waste a man on your care if he can see to it."
Azradi's grey eyes shift to meet and perhaps hold the Master Scout's. "And he cares for you because he is conflicted."
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"I do not, you mean?"
But Amrundirn does not look away, even at Azradi's answer and his own for Ceredir is not spoken in the language of the stone folk, but westron. His voice is returned in full, it seems, though he speaks quietly without muttering of whispering. All the while his eyes widen little by little. "So we have, though I cannot say when. But I recall your face." He tells Eruphel now, and his glance fleets to her temple.
"Which of you is Azradi?"
Ceredir:
In the midday sun, it's quite clear that Ceredir's face reddens both at Azradi's words and as her eyes meet his. He drops his gaze first.
"Captain," he says quietly. "He is my brother in arms, and such bonds are hard to just break fully. But conflicted..."
"No. I know where my duty lies."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel throws an accusatory thumb over her shoulder at Azradi, then folds her arms back over her knees, still squatting. "What I would like to know is...why did you assault us in such a manner by the river? I vaguely remember you saying you did not wish to fight." All this is in Westron, and her eyes flick toward Ceredir's embarrassment with some interest.
[Azradi(#20135)]
"I am a Southron," Azradi replies to Ceredir. "I know well what it means to be conflicted. A friend today can become an enemy tomorrow. One hopes only to be asked to step aside rather than be the hand that deals death in such situations - I wish neither to kill a friend nor be killed by one."
The Farside lady folds her arms across her chest and shifts her gaze to the Ranger. "Aye, I am Azradi anAzulada, Fleet Master and Captain of Farside."
"And yes," she adds, smiling, "if you are curious - sister to the man who claims Gondor's throne." She falls silent then, waiting for the man to answer Eruphel's question.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"If I wanted to kill you, I would've shot you," Amrundirn answers dryly without answering, gaze rising now to where Eruphel's thumb points to settle on Azradi's face. His red-rimmed eyes narrow lightly at that, and he mutters: "Perhaps I should have."
His tone grows firm then, "The choice of claiming Gondor from Umbar is... interesting."
Ceredir:
"I have not been faced with that before, Captain," Ceredir answers, "but I will learn, I suspect, as this unfolds. Many..." he glances to the Ranger briefly, "will object, I'm afraid."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel glances at Ceredir again, but keeps her attention focused on the other prisoner. "Exactly so. A lone arrow, or even a charge across the river is what I would have expected. So why did you attack us in that manner?" Eruphel asks again. "For your answer, we could perhaps...make you more comfortable."
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi smiles when the Ranger threatens her. She unfolds her arms, offering Ceredir only a momentary glance. "Lady Eruphel asked you a question. Why did you come here? What do you seek?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
The ranger's glance drops to the sand as he turns his head halfway toward Ceredir at his answer for Azradi.
A snort then, before he looks to the swarthy of the two women.
"Perhaps you would do me the favor of freeing my hands?" he says, and his question in turn is dry. The answer to them both, however, is not. "I came seeking answers."
"I have learned some things to which you are doubtless privy, and guessed at their designs. The answers lay here, so I thought."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"Well, now you have made me curious." Eruphel says, cocking her head just a little. "And if a Gondorian needs his hands to speak, then surely we can accommodate. Azradi?" She glances up now at the lady of Farside in askance.
Ceredir:
"I told you, Amrundirn," Ceredir scowls. "But hear it from them instead." He falls silent, watching the Captain to her response to the Ranger's request.
[Azradi(#20135)]
"Lady Eruphel offered to make you more comfortable in exchange for your story," Azradi says, nodding in agreement to the Seaward Lady. "We are a people of our word, though your kin seem to not believe it."
"Untie his hands, Ceredir," the Farside lady orders.
"To begin with, Gondorian: What is your name?"
Amrundirn(#29212)]
The Ranger in turn quirks a brow at Azradi's command.
"You have left much unsaid, master scout."
To Azradi he says: "Very well. If that is what you would have me believe then I will humor you for the nonce. I am Amrundirn of Mormegil Carmayar, son of Iarthol."
"As for my errand..." He cocks his head lightly towards Ceredir, a movement that he seems to regret the moment after by the frown that fleets across his face. "I would learn of this one's dealings with the pretender."
Ceredir:
Behind Amrundin, untying the Ranger's hands, Ceredir looks up to Azradi. "He guessed much," he says quietly. "The brand. He saw it and then guessed some things."
[<#20109>] Eruphel stretches, working a kink out of the muscles in her neck, and shifting her weight in the low squat to ease some discomfort. She regards the two together and then says in the native, southron tongue,
"
She smiles then, returning her gaze to the Ranger. In Westron she says: 'Well met, Amrundin. Your friend here recognizes my brother as his rightful King and wishes to see him installed in Minas Tirith - for the betterment of Gondor.'
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
A sigh.
Whilst massaging one wrist each in turn, Amrundirn looks first to Azradi, and then Eruphel throughout their exchange. But he pauses, and his glance toward Azradi turns into a level stare, and the knuckles of the hand presently grasping his other wrist whiten. "Does he indeed?" His voice is quiet now. "And you know this? How?"
But he does not smile.
Ceredir:
"Because I swore my loyalty to Lord Alphros, Ranger," Ceredir says. With the Ranger's hands untied, he stands and walks around to face the man as he speaks. "He is the rightful king of Gondor, and I swore my life and loyalty to him. As should you." Though he may have been wavering and concerned before, Ceredir's expression has now hardened, and his eyes are cold.
"Captain." He addresses Azradi, turning to her. "This man was my brother in arms, part of the Company of men I was sworn to protect with my own life. But...all things must pass and this must pass too. He knows too much--he can singlehandedly destroy all that I have been working for on behalf of your brother."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"Hmm...kill him. Or give him to me." Eruphel smiles a mean smile. "Hate to see flesh wasted." Her eyes rove over the man, judging his age and fitness. "Need to stock up on slaves. Should your brother succeed in achieving his throne, I imagine we won't be like to do this anymore."
[Azradi(#20135)]
"Because," Azradi answers Amrundirn after Ceredir himself does, "He says so and more. He returned to us of his own free will - knowing we would want to kill him after his failed attempt on my brother's life. And because that brand you saw was chosen freely as well. We did not force it on him."
"He will not return to Gondor, Ceredir," the Farside lady promises, glancing to the Master Scout and then once more to Eruphel. "Aye, if we do not execute him, we will likely sell him. Though I suppose Alphros might have other ideas."
"Well Amrundirn," she continues, returning her regard to the Ranger, "you know the truth now. Was it worth your life?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Slowly and leaned lightly on one hand, the Ranger comes to his feet.
"So then. I am answered," He does not say as much as he growls it, and when he continues he speaks first to Ceredir with surety, and his gaze on the man is cold. "Know this, betrayer. You will answer for your crimes, in one way or another. I swear it." He turns his head to the Farside Corsair, and his glance in passing Eruphel grows cold, but he tells her nothing. And as he sets eyes on Alphros' sister, his countenance is graced with a stern and grim, and wholly mirthless smile.
"Yes, Azradi of Farside. Yes it was."
Ceredir:
"Swear all you want, old man, call me what you want. I know the truth. I know what my heart tells me, and I follow it. I remain faithful to Gondor and to her King, and many agree with me--and their numbers grow every day," Ceredir says, nearly spitting his words. He draws himself up proudly.
"I am no betrayer."
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel rises to stand, her knees complaining after the long strain, and she shakes her legs out just a little. "Its okay. You can look at me, Amrundirn..." she says, then looks about the camp. "Lets get some chains on him, shall we?"
[Azradi(#20135)]
"I am glad, you have found the answers you seek," Azradi replies with a cool smile, her tone a mockery of gracious manners. Though, in truth, there is no malice for the Ranger in her eyes. She looks away. "We have a secure room," He can stay there for the night. I suggest we return to Umbar in the morning," she says to Eruphel.
First taking a moment to gesture for a guard to approach, she then turns to Ceredir. "How long can you be gone before you arouse suspicions? Can you return with us to Umbar for a short time?"
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
"You know the truth?"
The Ranger turns his head to face Ceredir, and the likeness of a smile remains. "It is a great irony, boy, and a sad one. For truth is the one thing you are incapable of."
Azradi recieves no answer save a glance for the duration of her reply.
"Bring your chains," He tells Eruphel then, "Or your swords. I have suffered this cretin long enough."
Ceredir:
"A short while, yes, if you need me, Captain. There was a note I tried to pass to..." Lashing out in sudden anger, Ceredir's fist flies toward the Ranger's face, though, so that he does not finish his thought.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
"As you say." the Seaward Lady agrees. She turns toward the camp and whistles once to garner the attention of some guards. They approach as might be expected. "Put him in shackles and place him in the secure room, with two guards." she orders, and then turns just as Ceredir assaults Amrundirn, somewhat surprised. "Break them up!" she shouts to the guards, and tries to step in herself.
[Amrundirn(#29212)]
Funny enough, the blow is a true one, connecting with the Ranger's temple. He hasn't the time to react. His knees seem to give way underneath him even as he topples forward to the side, ending up motionless on the the ground.
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi nods to the rushing guards and backs away slightly from the fracas. Her expression is one of amusement. "Careful Eruphel," she says to the woman as she tries to intervene.
One of the Farside soldiers grabs Ceredir roughly, seizing his arms to restrain him. Two others crouch down to pick up the unconscious Ranger and carry him back to the garrison's secure room.
"Cool your heals, Ceredir. The Southron sun has gotten to you," she says to the Master Scout. "We return to Umbar tomorrow by ship. There you can give your reports in person. I will return you as close to Gondor as I dare to hasten your journey home."
The Master Scout is dragged away easily enough: As soon as Amrundirn drops to the ground, the fight and anger drain away, and Ceredir looks pale and shaken again--perhaps the realization of what he is really in for has hit him.
"Yes, Captain," he answers a bit shakily, then lets the Farside guides lead him to the garrison.
Players: Amrundirn,Ceredir,Eruphel,Azradi
