(Archive) Delios and Icarus

Elendor - Sunday, April 30, 2000, 10:19 PM

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Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification, War Room

The damages of war and fire have been repaired in this room, though still some scars are visable. However, one is hard pressed to find reminders of the ruins. A large table stands as the most prominant feature of the room. Strudily crafted, yet crude and unadorned, one is reminded that here is a land of hard and bitter struggle in which luxuries serve no purpose. The walls bear no device or ornamentation save a large and detailed map of Osgiliath and the lands surrounding, and in one corner there is set a small table well laden with glass and decanters containing a variety of drink. A single window there is, facing outwards into the inner courtyard of the fortress, and it is heavily paned with thick shutters that may be pulled down for privacy.

Contents:

Rorgan

Obvious exits:

Out

[Rorgan(#19834)] Sitting at a table littered with maps is Commander Rorgan, his head in his hands, and a cold cup of tea beside him. The chair on which he sits groans uncomfortably, as it has definitely seen better days. Outside the fortress, the Spring has arrived with a vengeance. Thunder rolls across the ruins, threatening to topple still more of the failing structures with its vibration, and the flashes of lightening even filter dimly into this room, lighted only with the unsteady flickering of a single candle.

Laying on the floor are three lieutenants and a handfull of sergeants, long outdone by the stamina of the half-Rohir, Rorgan, yet loth to leave the planning area, lest the Commander come up with yet another brilliant strategy for dealing swift and deadly with the Enemy, and they be less than the first to hear of it. Indeed, two such ideas have been had by the Commander in recent days, each crushed successively by the arrival of the Spring rains, for soon the roads became too muddy for wagons to pass with ease, and now, even the wide wheels of a catapault would be mired in what would normally be the firmest of ground.

Stifling a yawn as she enters the war room, Lady Aearwen rubs her eyes as the light from the lantern upon the desk blinds her after the darkness of the storm. The white shawl around the delicate shoulders of the woman is casually draped and hanging loosely. A shake of her head, irritation flitting across her features as she finds Rorgan, still awake, obviously the enter night spent in strategic planning.

Following closely upon her heels is one of the assistant healers, a tray of food and brimming hot tea carried in her hands. The aroma of food quickly dispels the stench of the tightly closed room as Aearwen motions for the woman to set the tray upon the old desk. Raising one eyebrow, as if daring her friend to speak against the intrusion, she takes a seat across from him and reaches for the pot of tea, \"Honey or plain?\", a hint of mischevious laughter glints from her sea blue eyes as they peer up at Rorgan.

[Delios(#29016)] The doors to the war room open slowly, a chilly gust of air blowing in from the connecting room. Through the swinging door steps a solitary man, his cloak drenched and muddy, his boots equaly so. Covered is this man in the evidence of war, the cloak torn about his side and arm, and around each tear, the blood of either him or another. A tired hand half hidden by the baggy sleaved cloak, reaches up to brush away the hood from atop his head. Soaked and darkened masses of golden hair fall out and upon his shoulder, heavy from the rains of the storm. Delios is at last revieled in the dim light of the War Room, one hand upon the hilt of his sword, the other carrying in it a finely carved bow.

Opening his cloak to reveal the tatered remaints of leather armor and wollen shirt, the scout moves into the depths of the war room. His boots tap quietly upon the stone deck, his eyes scanning the room with a keen glance newly awakened by nescesity. Rorgan and Aearwen, those keen eyes finaly rest upon. And how fortunate, for both he had longed to speak with for a while. Stepping up towards the table, Delios feigns a smile to the Lady Aearwen, his head bowing low to her. \"M\'lady...\'tis a pleasure to see you safe,\" but his words to her are brief, turning now to Rorgan with a deep sigh, \"Commander, I bring report.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)] Looking up and blinking his bloodshot eyes as he looks upon the healers entering, the Commander watches with a look of growing amusement upon his face. Finally, he says quietly, \"Plain, thank you.\"

Rising from the complaining chair, he stands to his full height, and then stretching his lean body and twisting his head from side to side, he offers the woman a smile, \"That smells... delicious.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)] Looking past the healers as another enters the room, Rorgan greets the scout with a simple nod, sharing a look with the lady, to his brief amusement. Then at the words spoken by the young man, he returns his attention thither.

The teapot in Lady Aearwen\'s hand pauses in midair as the door to the war room is opened and a gust of cold wind blows through. Shivering, she reaches up with her free hand and pulls the shawl a little closer around her neck and then pours tea into two cups, the steam rising in a cloud. Glancing up Delios with a cursory nod of her head, the noblewoman remains silent as she reaches the cup of tea to Rorgan. Noting the bloodshot eyes as he moves to take the cup, she gives him a look of censure unseen by Delios.

[Rorgan(#19834)] Bloodshot or no, the eyes of Rorgan are an open book to his long-time friend. Volumes could be passed between the two with nary a word, \'twould seem, from the looks passed between them. And yet the Commander does wait to hear the report of the scout ere he speaks again.

[Delios(#29016)] Delios sighs slightly, his cool voice dampened by the constant battles and skirmishes that rage on. His eyes flicker to Rorgan, then to the healer, and back once more. Ever dreary has Delios become, but in his eyes, there still hides some of that mirth, that ever present levity of which he shall never let go. Bowing again to Rorgan, Delios continues in soft tone, \"Sir, a small party of scouts, led by Mardimar, had made way towards the Uruk encampment. Close did we approach, but not within range of the centries bows. From their, we could see no change in either defense, nor advance of the Mordian forces...and this is important for a latter report.

ro Withdrawing again, I took post upon the eastern wall of Osgiliath, it was there that a rider of a black steed came, calling himself by a name I had not heard before...and I am sorry to say, I would be hard to repeat. It was in Rohiric fashion, and that is the same language and country to which he claimed. However, his position was strange,\" he pauses, letting the information sink in. Delios had not meant to continue on this long, but he makes no sign of stopping yet, \"He gave report that he must pass on, for he came FROM the east, Commander, and that he must return to report to a higher echelon than myself. It was then, that he gave report of the Mordian forces withdrawing. Yet, as I had said myself, the encampment showed no sign of change. So strange was his report, that I could not believe him or his claims, and told him to seek differant passage of the Anduin, for ours was not open to any traveler save that of our guard. I know not if my actions were just, but I saw no truth behind his words.\"

[Icarus(#30063)] The powerfull sound of thunder echoes through the air, as the rain contiues falling upon the Gondorian fortification. The over-used war room illuminates as a bolt of lightning rips from the sky towards the turmoiled land. Lightly sleeping, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, is a young sergeant, heavy bandages covering his right shoulder. As the loud sound is heard, Icarus suddenly wakes up, knocking his injured arm against the wall and letting a faint cry, almost unheard, trying to swallow the small but sharp pain that runs through his arm. A grimace appears on his face, mixed with confusion for a second, as he tries to figure out where he is.

Holding the glance of Rorgan, the eyes of the noblewoman speak volumes as they narrow and squint, eyebrows raising and lowering, all without a word. Not breaking the stare, Aearwen reaches for her cup and the expression on her face would best be described as beligerent as she finally lowers eyes to take notice of the cup and sip a few drinks as she listens to the words of Delios, Idly, Aearwen brushes a piece of lint from her skirt and then leans forward in her chair to pick up a small plate and place a few items upon it, a slice of cheese, a chuck of bread smeared with butter and one shirveled, puny apple.

[Rorgan(#19834)] Suddenly more interested at the mention of a Rohirrim passing FROM the East, the Commander turns his full attention toward the scout, murmering a curse in the tongue spoken by his mother\'s people, \" ********* *******!\". And then again, \" ********* *******!\" as he shakes his head. Then thinking to himself, rapidly, Rorgan says, \'\'My own brother has been lost for some time, Delios. Was perhaps this rider\'s name Fiordor?\'\' Raising a brow as he waits but briefly for the scout to reply, \'\'Or perhaps one of his men? Tell me what you recall of this man from the very beginning, lad. Each and every detail that you can remember.\'\'

Then, too, as if instructed to do so by the facial gestures of the lady healer, Rorgan also picks up his appointed cup of tea and sips, waiting on the scout to speak yet again after he says this last bit, \'\'You shall let him through, lad, and send him straight to me. If he be a spy of the Enemy, none present shall better be able to know it than shall I, for I alone have lived among the Rohirrim, and that for a goodly portion of my life. I know her places and towns, yes, and even some of her people quite well.\'\'

[Delios(#29016)] Nodding slowly, Delios\' begins to speak again, though he leans tiredly upon the table before him. \"Commander, the man that I spoke of spoke with an educated tint. His laugh was, menacing, if you take my meaning sir. For when I challenged him, he did not draw back cloak or hood...meerly, he extended a dagger to meet me. A cut was upon his stomach, though, fresh if my eyes did not fail.\" He swallows again, his voice growing softer with each sentance. \"Not once did he let me see his face, nor his eyes for that matter. His steps were heavy...but he was quick to mount his horse when I approached. No other weapon did he appear to have, save the dagger.\"

[Delios(#29016)] Delios shakes his head again, eyes flitting from the woman to Rorgan, heavier does he lean upon the table, but his eyes remain strong from beneath the dirtied locks. \"No, I am affraid. His steed was to fast for my feet, and the tracks about the area to jumbled to follow. Though, when he did ride off, Sir, it _was_ to the east. Not North or South along the Anduin, as one might suspect.\"

The ringing clatter of a plate sounds loudly in the room as Lady Aearwen pointedly sets the item down in front of Rorgan, her eyes snapping with irritation. Frowning as the familiar name is spoken, she looks upon Rorgan and asks, \"Fiordor has been missing for how long? I had not heard speak of him since we stayed at his home in Rohan.\"

Settling back in the carven chair, her tea cup rests in both hands as she sips quietly, listening to the talk of war and strangers in the area. Glancing over both Icarus and Delios she doth inquire, right in the middle of conversation, \"Have the two of you been seen by the healers?\"

[Delios(#29016)] Delios stands taller now, his eyes flitting to Aearwen with a sigh. Blood still resides upon his uniform, bandages dirty, but in all his health is good. A quiet smile curves across his lips as he prepairs to answer, his head bobbing in an affirmative response. \"Aye M\'lady. But old wounds still may leak. Your work is heavy with the other wounded, do not trouble yourself with me.\" Delios smiles again, though, feigned it may be. Not pain, but exhaution now overtake the young scout. For skirmish after skirmish has he been in, and wound upon wound he has taken. Not the least, the back of his head, so freshly stitched and wrapped.

[Icarus(#30063)] Slowly standing up, Icarus walks towards the table and taking a sit on a nearby chair. Carefully he listens to the report of the scout, intriguiged by the arrival of this stranger. Hearing the question of the healess, he turns his head towards her, \"Aye my Lady, my wound was taken care by one of the skillfull healers...although it seems that they do not like me right now.\"he finishes a wide smile upon his face.

Satisfied that both men have been seen to by the healing contingent, Aearwen adds, \"I would see you both there by the end of the day for a checking of those wounds. When seepage is noticed upon bandages, tis time to have the leeches look at you or face the possibility of gangrene and loss of limb.\" Her look is stern as she glances from one to the other, \"Your duty to Gondor will be restrained by the healing staff if we feel you are a threat to yourself and a liability to the company.\" Glancing back to Rorgan, -that- look is again passed between the two friends as a narrowing of lips is seen.

[Delios(#29016)] Bowing his head in quick submission, Delios emits from his own worn lips an easy and cool, \"As you wish, M\'lady.\" Before he finds a chair for which to sit upon. His eyes do not leave her though, wandering away only to secure his position. \"If you wish, I might take care of that duty now? I have had no finer healer stitch a wound than the one before me. Though, I wish not to impose.\"

[Icarus(#30063)] \"My wound is healing fine, my lady and no need to keep me here would you or any of your staff have. But if you wish to see it for yourself I will report to the infirmary by the end of the day...if my duties permit me to.\" Icarus says in a clear voice

[Rorgan(#19834)] \"Do not cross Lady Aearwen, Icarus, if you intend to return to duty after you finish scrubbing all her bedpans this day,\" says Rorgan, and then, muttering something about needing some sleep so he can deal with a spy, he heads out the door and begins hunting an empty cot.

A smile doth curve the sweet pink lips of the lady as she looks upon Icarus, standing so brave and fearless in the face of her wrath. A laugh of amusement tinkles out as she says, \"Yes. I do wish it. I will not allow any man in the service of Gondor to suffer unnecessarily.

Your wounds may not be troubling you, but I will make sure there are no signs of blood poisoning before you are released for duty.\" Her glaze then turns to Dury, \"And the same goes for you, healing and injuries are a very serious duty and I will broach no question.\" With that said she rises from the carven chair and places her cup upon the long forgotten tray.

A look of amusement is shot to Rorgan as he threatens Icarus with the duty of bedpans and the healer gives her friend a look of concern and something more as he heads out to rest.Turning to the two soldiers she says, \"Both of you, in the infirmary before the sun has set on this day.\" With that, her shoes click sharply on the stone floor as she strides to the door, a gust of wind whipping her skirts as she opens the door and exits the room.