(Archive) The Strange Adventures of Numandil, Naerdil, and Huan 9

Elendor - Monday, April 17, 2000, 11:21 PM

Elendor time is: Late Afternoon on Mersday of Winter - February 3, 3020

Out leads to Great Bear Inn - Entrance Hall.

Tinidril looks around the dining room. Not much has changed here...it is almost deserted.

[Tinidril(#27663)] she tries to decide where to sit.

[Dalbeorn(#26812)] As the light streams in through the windows only a few people occupy the dinning room. Used mostly as a haven from the loudness of the rest of the tavern, the dining room has only one waitress wandering between kitchen, tavern and dining room. In the far corner, opposite the door, a few small trees and a variety of bushes grow in their pots and boxes of soil. Almost hidden in this corner and most definitely alone is Dalbeorn, sitting with a mug of his usual drink, water, in front of him and untouched.. also as normal.

Tinidril swiftly crosses the room and settles herself near the big stranger, not at his table, but close enough that a conversation may strike up if wanted. It seemed the proper thing to do.

The footsteps of Naerdil echo loudly in the dining room as he strides through the door and into the much quieter area. A smile tips the corners of his mouth as he glances around the room and notes the homey atmosphere of the room. The waitress speaks up as he enters, \"Take any seat that you wish, sir\" and he pulls forth a chair when his eyes fall upon the familiar form of Dalbeorn. Pushing the chair back to the table with a loud creak of carven wood he walks to where the older man sits and nods his head, \"How fare thee today Dalbeorn? Would you care for some company as you sip your...\", glancing down at the cup in front of the man and then back up he says, \"water?\", in a questioning voice.

Dalbeorn chuckles and looks up Tinidril moves close to him and settles herself down. He offers her a smile and looks down at his water then back to the guide and starts to speak but his attention is changed and he chuckles to Naerdil, \"Aye it\'s water as it often is. Either this or tea is all that ye\'ll find entering my body.\" Motioning toward a chair across from him he nods, \"Take a seat. I am well enough, much is on my mind not the least of which is trying to be a chieftan when I have no idea why Grimbeorn has chosen me for the position.\"

Tinidril smiles at the two men.

[Tinidril(#27663)] Her mouth opens as if to speak, then she changes her mind, and concentrates on the plateful of food the serving girl set before her.par

Giving Tinidril as polite nod of his head and a smile, Naerdil turns his attention back to the Beorning man and pulls out the chair across from his. Settling his large frame into the carven wood chair, he sprawls back comfortably and lays his ever present journal on the table in front of him. Again a polite smile is given to the waitress as she comes to take his order, \"I should like a cup of hot tea with a dollop of honey. Thank you miss.\"

Curiosity fills his silvery eyes as he glances back to Dalbeorn, \"Chieftain? Do tell me more please. I know so little of your land and am so eager to learn more. You did say Grimbeorn was......\", flipping back through his journal he says, \"Your cousin, correct?\"

Tinidril listens with keen interest as the story-telling once more begins. She picks at her food, leaning her left elbow on the table, and cupping her chin with her left hand, becoming more and more engrossed.

Dalbeorn offers Tinidril another smile and inviting nod then turns his attention to Naerdil. \"Aye, Grimbeorn is my cousin, he is also the Laird, chief, of all the men of our valley. He is much like the, warden I belive you called him of your own land. I myself am Chief of this village and there is a chief of the woodsmen, the folk that make their living outside the village like guides and foresters.\" Sipping slightly at his water he smiles, \"Grimbeorn and his kin have ruled the valley for many many ages.\"

[Tinidril(#27663)] The bothersome serving girl returns under the pretext of filling Tinidril\'s mug with water, but the young girl suspects it is only to bat her eyelashes again at Naerdil. Tinidril \'s suspicion is confirmed. The serving girl flutters about the men\'s table and casts many a smile at the young chronicler.

Catching the glance that Dalbeorn gives to the only other occupant in the room Naerdil turns in his chair and waves his hand in the direction of the chair beside him, \"Would you care to join us M\'Lady?\", a slight blush colours his cheeks as the serving girl eyes him a little too long as she refills the woman\'s drink. Chuckling gruffly as the serving girl sets his hot tea down before him and sashays away, turning as she gets to the kitchen and gives him a brassy wink.

Coughing into his hand to try and hide the laugh that escapes, the tea is brought to his lips as amused eyes glance at Dalbeorn, turning more serious as the cup is replaced and he asks, \'What is the primary source of income here in your land? Do you have guards and a tax structure such as Gondor has?\"

Tinidril \'s eyes light up at the invitation. She hadn\'t wanted to seem too forward. She gets up a little too quickly in her eagerness and causes her chair to scrape loudly against the floor. Her cheeks tinged a bright red, she walks to the other table and drops into a seat.

Dalbeorn coughs lightly and smiles, \"We do not need as much income as your lands. Our dress is simple, most of what we use comes from the woods and our food is all baked at home or in taverns such as here. So I guess trade is our main income, wagons from the short dwarves and men from the Dale often come through and we have our own bartering system. The woodsmen cut the wood, trade it for food or weapons so smiths or inns have wood for the fire. Fishermen trade their catch for what they need. I myself treat people in the infirmary with my betrothed, Azurine and the other healers. Though we do gather herbs and other such goods that we need to trade.\" Smiling to Tinidril he chuckles softly, \"How are ye today, Tinidril?\" He asks as if knowing to woman, though he is indeed the chieftan of the Anduin village and as such knows most everyone as do they know him.

[Tinidril(#27663)] Confused, Tinidril looks up. How did this man know her name? She hasn\'t told anyone in the valley her name as yet, except for that dull-witted bartender- that must be it! Clearing her throat, she answers in a clear sweet voice, \"I am very well today. You are the chieftain here, are you not?\" She looks over at Naerdil, and smiles, \"How are you today, sir?\" She clasps her hands tightly in her lap, hoping that the men do not think her too bothersome.

The scratch of the charcoal pencil sounds in the quiet of the room as Naerdil makes more entries into his journal, pushing the tea aside for a moment as he works. Looking up at Dalbeorn he questions What do the short dwarves bring in their wagons and where are they from? And men from Dale? What do they bring and what land is that? Can you tell me which direction both of those places lie?\" Laughter booms out as he says, \"Never let it be said that I am at a loss for questions. My last words will probably be a question of some sort.\" Twinkling eyes turn to Tinidril, although not introduced, her lovely name spoken by the Chieftain of this village, \"Good day M\'lady. Tis always a pleasure to have a lovely face to brighten the room.\"

Tinidril blushes happily, enraptured by the handsome man before her. She remembers Dalbeorn, however, and stops herself short of staring. As the men continue to converse, she listens, totally enthralled, as she looks from one face to the next, still sneaking sly peeks at Naerdil, hoping to see that beautiful smile again.

Dalbeorn\'s eyes widen with all the questions and he tries to answer them in turn, \"The short folk bring coal, weapons and anything else they can pile in their wagons. Yet they are rare enough compared to th emen of Dale who bring anything and everything they think we may trade for. More often than not it is weapons. Though they know not to bring furs or leather armour. Grimbeorn can tell ye of where they come, I myself do not often go far and when I do it is not something that stays in my memory long.\" Wincing slightly as if a difficult memory has struck him he shrugs it off, \"And Azurine would hang me from the infirmary if I leave on a journey again.\" Nodding to Tinidril he smiles, \"Aye, I\'m the chieftan of the village.\"

From afar, Dalbeorn grins and think that pose speaks for your ability to play a man

Long distance to Dalbeorn: Naerdil laughs, \"its really hard to be one for an extended period like this, but man, I am enjoying this quest.\"

Tinidril looks up in annoyance as the pesky serving girl returns once more. \"Can I get you anything?\" she says, so clearly to Naerdil, that Tinidril must stifle a laugh. Does the poor girl think no one sees through her? To throw her off, Tinidril speaks up, \"I\'d like some more water, please.\" Flustered, the serving girl rushes off to the kitchen to get the pitcher, but forgets to bring it. It does not matter, as Tinidril was not very thirsty at all.

Cutting his eyes to where Tinidril sits, the man from the Stone City captures a quick glance of the blushing maid before he quickly turns his attention back to his journal and still his silvery orbs can be seen shifting back to the young woman in between lines written in the journal. As he logs this information about the short dwarves and men from Dale he looks up at Dalbeorn in question, \"Why would they not bring furs or leather armor? Do your men not wear leather armor during battle?\" Cocking his head to one side he absentmindedly rests his chin on his upturned palm as his considers this for a minute, \"Even the lowest of guards in Minas Tirith are outfitted with some sort of armor before they are sent into their first battle\" Sighing deeply at the reminder of home and the ever present war there. The brilliance in his eyes quickly fading to a distant nostalgia.

Dalbeorn frowns, \"Of course our men go out in armour. It is a blend of wood and other material that I will not speak of. We hunt only when needed and to kill an animal for it\'s skin is not in our beliefs. I protect the animals of the valley, care and tend to them. Any whom seek to harm the animals shall face many angered folk of the village.\" Giving Tinidril and the serving maid a few glances he chuckles softly, \"Our men do not go into battle either, for our only enemy are the goblins from the mountain and we may send groups of men to raid their camps, but we do not move in large numbers.\"

[Tinidril(#27663)] She is cast out of her reverie when Naerdil sighs. He sounds so wistful and mournful, that Tinidril looks up sharply. What could possibly be bothering this man? She studies him closely, looking for clues.

Distracted from his nostalgic wanderings, Naerdil jumps at the sound of Dalbeorn\'s voice, quickly his eyes rush back to the face of the man, surprised to see a frown there, he listens carefully to his words and then asks, \"To hunt and kill an animal for just its hide would be a waste of the beauty of our land, would it not? There are many uses for every part of most animals. I, myself, have knowledge of healing and herbs and oft use the marrow and fat of animals to blend with plants to make medicinal salves and potions.\"

A deep sigh sounds as he tries to explain the land from which he comes, \"Oft we are plagued by the enemies to the East and South of us, time after time our men are gathered to fight against the evil that threatens our very existance. This is one of the reasons for this quest, to determine if there are other allies here and to hopefully gain treaties with those that would ride along with us.\"

Dalbeorn sighs and frowns again, \"It is still many animals that are being killed in their own lands for the main reason of using their hide and then the rest is merely an addition. We can find what we need to survive without living off the creatures of the woods. There are many protectors of the forest and the creatures that live within. I gather herbs for healing nothing is needed from the animals unless that animal is already suffering.\" A deeper scowl crosses his face, \"Ride along, to harness the beasts of burden and ignore their worth as a companion. I figure you force the horses into the wars as well?\"

[Tinidril(#27663)] Realization dawns upon Tinidril. These men are seeking alliance! This conversation was more important than she had thought. She looks at Dalbeorn carefully, wondering what his next words will be.

Dalbeorn sighs and frowns again, \"It is still many animals that are being killed in their own lands for the main reason of using their hide and then the rest is merely an addition. We can find what we need to survive without living off the creatures of the woods. There are many protectors of the forest and the creatures that live within. I gather herbs for healing nothing is needed from the animals unless that animal is already suffering.\" A deeper scowl crosses his face, \"Ride along, to harness the beasts of burden and ignore their worth as a companion. I figure you force the horses into the wars as well?\"

Tinidril \'s head jerks up at the chieftain\'s angry tone. She nervously hopes Naerdil does not say anything foolish enough to invoke this great man\'s wrath.

Returning a scowl of his own back to the man seated across from him Naerdil asks in astonishment, \"Force the horses into the wars as well? Have you no idea of the bloodshed the Corsairs of the South have wrecked upon our land? Not to mention the goblins that creep along our borders.\" Shaking his head as his fingers rake through his raven locks in frustration and agitation. \"The blood of those that would have fallen save for the strength and courage of their steeds....\", his voice falls to almost a whisper, \"I cannot even bring myself to think of the lives that would have been lost.\" Almost in embarassment he turns to the young woman and flashes her a smile of apology, \"Please forgive the manner of conversation oft spoken between men, tis so many times not suitable for the delicate ears of one such as yourself.\'

Tinidril smiles a wobbly smile at Naerdil, but shrinks back into her seat, hoping against hope that Dalbeorn\'s anger will not be lit further.

Dalbeorn snorts softly, \"No, a horse is smarter than that. They would flee the bloodshed, flee the hatred of men.\" Sighing softly he turns the gold ring upon his chest over and over. \"They stay because of courage and because they are loyal to the men that have abused them such.\" The skin-changer takes in a deep breath and seems more strained now that it is night and the topic has turned to the goblins that foul everything. His eyes are more animal like that before and his voice almost raspy, \"Your kind have no care for creatures, other than to use them for their own advantage.\" Taking a drink of the water he forces a smile and leans back in his chair.

Tinidril places both hands palm down on the table and rises quickly. Glancing apologetically at Naerdil, she hurriedly says, \"Your company has been a pleasure, but by your leave, sirs, i shall be going my way now.\" The argument had been clearly growing more heated, and she preferred to leave before it got out of hand.

A clenching of muscles can be seen in the square jaw of Naerdil, a tick of sorts as his lips thin and eyes grow as cold as the snow that lies on the Misty Mountains. Drumming long, slender fingers on the table in front of him, he considers the man across from him for a long period of time before he brings voice to any more words. Then finally, a deep breath is taken and he speaks, \"Loyal to the men that abuse them?\", his head shakes, one raven lock curling on his forehead as he says, \"Granted, there are a few, I would daresay a handful of men that perhaps do not care for their steed as ...as part of their own person. But they are few and far between. The bond between a man and his horse is close, each sensing and knowing what the other intends to do.\" Flushing a bit he laughs a soft laugh of embarassment, \"Now I sound like one of the Horse Lords from Rohan. But I -feel- \", shrugging his shoulders he changes the subject.

\"Goblins\"....his voice quickly loses all manner of politeness at the mention of the foul disgusting creatures. \"They are the most..\", stopping as the lovely Tinidril rises to leaves. Jumping to his feet he quickly bows to the woman and offers an apology, \"Do please forgive me. Would you care to have dinner before I leave your fair land?\", a smile of warmth is given to the woman as his eyes silently plead for an affirmative answer

[Tinidril(#27663)] Blushing furiously, Tinidril murmurs something about not being previously engaged, then blushes even more at the ridiculousness of her answer. Calming herself she says, \"I would be pleased,\" and smiles.

Dalbeorn\'s hands latch onto the table as the man speaks, the wood quite obviously stressed almost to th epoint of breaking from the pressure of the man\'s grasp. \"No man has claim to know what his steed thinks, or speaks. Only few can do that and I know the whim of the animals about. Pride would be the only factor keeping your men\'s steeds loyal. I would trust a horse long before giving my word to a man not of the valley. Strange ways often follow strange men.\" Glancing to Tinidril as she stands he offers her a nod and a wish of a good night. Breathing deeply he relaxes himself and completely avoids the topic of golblins. \"Tell me, do your folk have any of which spend their time in the forests? Or are all of your villages large cities?\"

[Tinidril(#27663)] Smiling softly to herself, Tinidril bids both men farewell once more and walks away. It has been a long day, and she is tired.

Tipping his head to the young woman, Naerdil crosses his right arm across his chest and bows from the waist, \"Until we meet again M\'lady.\" With that he retakes his seat, an uncertain look in his eyes as he leans forward in earnest to ask, \"Not of the valley? Why would you be so presumptuous to think that only men of this valley could sense the nature of their steeds? I mean no disrespect in this question, only a burning curiosity to discover the meaning behind your words.\"When riding my steed, I -feel- his energy, the movement of his muscle beneath my body. Oft times sensing his nervousness in a given situation or even excitement...say for instance, when riding across the plains, allowing him full rein to gallop like the wind thrown the tall grasses. The movement of his muscles flexing and carrying us.\" His shoulders shrug as he picks up the cup of tea for another sip and then says, \"Perhaps I sound like one addled by too much time alone, its just a feeling.\"

Nodding his head in answer to the question by Dalbeorn he says, \"There are many of our men that live in forests, as one with nature, so to speak. I know of one man that comes in from the wilds from time to time.\'

Dalbeorn smiles at Naerdil\'s words. \"You are feeling what the horses wills you to feel. Why, if a horse or any animal were to keep their emotions to themselves it would be as a human walking without speaking or showing emotion. However, to understand an animal, to communicate with them and know their thoughts, not just what they show in their ways that is to know the nature of the animal.\"

A smile crosses his face and he glances outside as a howl emits from a wolf not far from the village. \"But as you spoke of when we first met, only rumours spread of men who once spoke with the animals.\" The smile remains and the look in his eye perhaps reveals more than he knows, more that he understands the animals a secret hidden within him. \"Ah, so there are foresters of sort then. Tis good to know that the lands are cared for and not all time is spent within walls.\"

An expression of deep thought rests upon the countenance of Naerdil as he considers the words of the Chieftain, a smile then plays across his lips as he admits, \"That line of thought I can follow with little effort, every living being has a -soul- that needs expression of some sort. Although I have heard of those that can talk to the animals I have never witnessed...\", his words die as sea grey eyes rivet on the man across from him and he questions, \"Grimbeorn was speaking to Huan and my steed upon our arrival, wasnt he?\" Aghast he rests his forehead in both hands as his voice is slightly muffled, \"The incident in the outpost had me a little unnerved and I had quite forgotten those sounds he made shortly after we arrived.\"

Glancing out the window at the sound of a wolf howling he remarks, \"That sound is perhaps one of the most lonely sounds one can hear in the still of the night. Seen at a distance with the moon illuminating their body and head tilted back, its an eerie sound and yet oft times I have noticed it to be one of comfort.\" The young man of Gondor raises his eyes again to the man across from him and says, \"Not all time is spent within walls, at least for those with the freedom to travel.\" A sly smile haunts his face as he says, \"Many things have I learned on this journey...\", silent for a moment he continues, \"being self-sufficient and enjoying the beauty of the land before us far from the least learned.\"

Dalbeorn nods his head and smiles, \"Aye, Grimbeorn had a small conversation with the animals. It has been rumoured that the line of Beorn can understand and talk with the creatures.\" Laughing deeply he smiles, \"Or perhaps my cousin meerly cleared his throat.\" Standing he forces a yawn though his eyes seem more alive than ever and every muscle in his body seems tense as the night grows. \"Perhaps it is time for us to call it a night. Do keep stay within the tavern though, the wolves bay is a lovely sound but also one of a hunter.\" A soft growl emits from the skin-changer and he coughs, \"And wolves are not all solitary, nor alone in our woods though there are those that protect the woods at night.\"

I greatly appreciate your time.\" Picking up the journal from the table he glances up again and says, \"Oh! I had almost forgotten. My uncle and I are looking for two men to hire, to be our guides through Mirkwood. Would you perhaps know anyone in your village that would be interested in earning a few coins for their trouble?\" A visible shiver goes through the man as the sound of the wolf sounds again, this time a bit closer, this time the brows of Naerdil frown as he recalls Dalbeorn\'s warning.

Dalbeorn smiles, \"Many guides occupy the Mad Dog tavern, though many a brawl also gets them tossed onto the street. I am sure that you may find one there or if none are to be hired I\'ll help ye as much as I can and perhaps guide ye. I am chief of the village and as such should not travel too far though.\"

A smile once again rests upon the face of Naerdil as he speaks, long gone are the harsh words of earlier as he says, \"I bid you good night then Dalbeorn. Rest well and I hope to see you again before we leave your land.\" Snapping his fingers together he says, \"I must remember to ask about the statue of the bear in the village crossroads when next I speak to someone.\" Waving his hand as if to wipe away the weariness, now evident he smiles and bows gallantly, \"Until next time. Goodnight.\"