(Archive) Rorgan and the Wolf\'s Fleece Part VIII

October 14, 1999

*Note - log submitted by Rorgan*

It is a cool August afternoon on the long plain, the grasses waving in the breezes. The breezes carry the scent of impending fall and even the faint tinge of winter as they come down off the Misty Mountains. The combined camp of Gondorians and Rohirrim bristles with readiness, even the men of the lowest rank know it will be soon, very soon, when the Warg lair is discovered and attacked. But in the camp, there are those who will not fight in the upcoming battle.

Many of the noncombatants were born to other fates -- healers, womenfolk, and supply masters -- and some have become too wounded in the recent fighting and continuing skirmishes to continue to be of use in the field. One such person is Rorgan, son of Yerl, the sometimes tailor from Minas Tirith. His left leg was nearly consumed in the only open battle with the great beasts thus far, but still, it is said that the dire leader of the creatures fell at his hand, fulfilling the quest that had fuled his insistance on following out the present course of action. Rorgan\'s left shoulder also bears the marks of battle, though it is covered only in a light wrapping these days. On a cot in the healing tent, Rorgan sits, back propped up with pillows, as he reads from an aging book whose cover was once tan, but now grows brown with age. His fingers hold the tome steady in front of him, as he sips from the ever-present cup of healing tea that rests upon a small stand by his cot when it is not being used.

[Colinor(#29577)] Death.

Tis a sobering thing, that. A sobering thing which pulls with it the grayness, the cool chill of stark reality. A thing which makes a man realize the fact that he, too, will someday cease to live.

Colinor is currently havign such thoughs.

He sits beside the cot of a man who he once called friend. Jorl was his name, and he had been a good man. A rder of the mark, Jorl had come here following -him-. Following him to help wipe out the basts which had been plaguing Forensvale and beyond. And now....he was dead.

It had taken days and days since the last fight with the beasts for Jorl to succumb to the infections, the creeping rot which had taken him. But, despite the best work of the healers, he had been lost. And now Colinor sits beside the body of yet another man who had ben close to him. Another friend from Forensvale. Another friend to bury.

His head is bowed, pressed against the wood which lines the edge of the cot. He is sitting cross-legged, his harp case sitting in his lap, fingers stroking absently the battered, black leather.

His leg is bandaged, still bhurt rather badly, though he has been running about, evading his wife\'s sharp tongue for days now. Trying his damndest to, somehow, help the men who are still whole. Rumor has it that he was planning on riding this morning, before Aelspeth herself got wind of that word, and somehow drugged him, kept him asleep as the men left. That could be only rumor, though. One never knows.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] The long fingers of the descending sun\'s rays reach into the confines of the healer\'s tent as a woman\'s slender hand pushes open the flap and the rest of her body enters. Aelspeth\'s features are touched with the shadow of weariness, for there is much for those of her calling to tend in the camp of late, and concern in her heart for those close to it.

The air of hushed restfullness that ever pervades this place does not dim the bustle of the women that here tend the injured. Several younger, and older, women offer low greeting to the Master Healer of Rohan.. greetings that are returned around the curve of a smile that is terse.

Then she is within and moving to test the brews abubble upon the hearth before continuing in her chosen path.. a path that takes her directly toward her husband, whose cot is also next to the tailor of Gondor\'s. At its foot does she pause, sharp eyes snapping over Colinor\'s frame as a hand finds rest upon one supple hip. \"My lord, you needs be resting.\" So sweet that voice, it only bodes trouble for the man she now addresses.

[Galdorim(#22020)] Pushing aside the flap after many healers inthe this tent occupied by the wounded is the Gondorian Camp Commander, Lieutenant Galdorim. He stands at the enterances as he surverys the occupants of this tent. He looks to be looking for a particular healer, but when he does not see her, his face visabally hardens with the looks of disappointment. His deep bass voice mutters to himself softly as he shakes his head. The deep scratches of his face that he had recieved from his warg hunt are beginning to heal nicely as weill as the wounds on his long arm and thick thighs.

[Colinor(#29577)] Up does Colinor\'s gaze move, his head. Eyes open, bloodshot and sleep-deprived...and those which have seen tears, though there are no more tears left to weep this day. Too many of his friends dead. Too many he has seen fall, all because of the cursed dogs. All because of honor, and strength, and...

He banishes those thoughts from his mind. Banishes the bitterness which causes him to question all of it. In its place, a bone-weary sort of apathy sets in. Not an all-consuming apathy, but he has a go at it. When you ignore the pain, you see, it doesn\'t hurt quite so much.

\"Hello, my wife,\" he croaks, normally beautiful baritone of a voice nothing like that now. He angles his head to look upon her, eyes lingering, perhaps a second overlong, upon the ripeness of her form, distracted by the oddest of thoughts. \"You know...we never did get to finish that honeymoon..\" he murmurs absently, before his eyes find hers, and perhaps she cans ee the man beneath. He is there. \"We\'ll kill the rest of the dogs on the morrow, my love, and then I\'ll give you a proper honeymoon.\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Her response is subtle.. but would indeed speak many volumes to those familiar with the tall healess who once did hail from the Eastmark rather than West. Aelspeth\'s smile is liquid lovliness, honey and cream and innocence. It is a very, very dangerous thing, and well matches the intense focus that has crept into her gaze, which scans again the form of her husband where he sits upon his bed.

\"I do not believe that is accurate, my lord.\" Steps closer does she, skirts asway about her ankles as she moves near enough to brush her fingertips across Colinor\'s brow and to check the level of medicinal teas left in the cup upon a nearby stand.

The barest flicker of recognition, not enough to pull the tailor from his book, Rorgan spares the healer who saved his leg. The appendage that he still will not look upon, now nearly three weeks after the fact. That brief nod in the woman\'s direction, heeded or not, and he takes another sip of the tea at his side and turns the page, squinting slightly at a particularly smudged piece of scribe-work.

Finally, with a small grunt, he is past the marred passage and on down the page, the only puase in his reading caused by his reaching out again for the healing tea, all in the tent know the one -- it is the pain-relieving tea that so many take in small quantities before recieving the care of the halers, but for Rorgan, it is now a part of his sustenance.

Another small nod is spared at the entrance of the lieutenant, and then a page is turned and a little more tea is consumed. The bitterness of the brew is usually sufficient to deter most from taking it longer than needed, but the tailor continues to imbibe, seemingly heedless of the taste it leaves behind in his mouth. One of the apprentice healers attempted a substitute not a day gone by, and the man\'s quick lapse into incoherent curses in mixed languages was satisfaction enough for those who doubted the tailor\'s need of continued pain relief.

At the croak of Colinor\'s voice, the tailor looks over from his book, noting the weariness that has settled itself upon the much younger man. He shakes his head without comment, and still more of that infernal tea flows down into his gullet ere his eyes return to the book he reads.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] As if the healess\' deft eyes would miss such an obvious thing, Aelspeth does not shift anything but those violet-hued orbs, staring them intently for a moment upon Rorgan. \"You are enjoying the bitter brew, mi\'lord?\" Carefully spoken that, low and even, and betraying absolutely nothing as to her opinion of the observation she\'s just voiced.

[Galdorim(#22020)] As the blue eyes that are full of dispare and hurt looks over the room again, Galdorim sees his friend Rorgan nod towards him and go back to his studies. He frowns with his deep sorrow and turns to leave. He runs into a younf assistant to the healers and causes her to fall with her pile of freshly cleaned bandages. The tall officer looks down at her and shakes his head. \"My appologies, M\'lady.\" He reaches a hand out to help her up.

[Colinor(#29577)] The cup--which is beside Colinor\'s bed, unlike the young heir to Forensvale --his back is to the bed, but he grieves over the body of a fallen comrade. Another fallen comrade. He rises now, after Aelspeth has touched him, nodding brusquely at her words, \"Let Emmengrim and all the rest of them say I am but a boy after -tomorrow-,\" he murmurs, before he casts one last glance at his fallen friend, and forces his eyes away. \"Can somebody see to this brave man?\" he demands loudly enough to be heard, still, somehow, mindful of the others who recuperate in the tent. \"He was a brave man, and died with honor. Prepare his body to be carried home as such.\"

Eyes never leaving the book upon his belly, Rorgan\'s response is just as carefully measured. It is the calm quiet voice that has inhabited the tailor\'s body since his arrival at the healer\'s tents after the battle. The voice that neither seems to rise or fall, but far from monotone, it simply is. This voice answers, \"It is not a taste that is easily acquired, Lady Aelspeth.\" The page is turned and another sip of the brew is taken. Long moments pass before Rorgan again speaks, still in that unmarked and unmarred voice, \"I don\'t believe I /have/ acquired it yet, either.\" The smallest emotion, a slight wrinkle of his nose, accompanies this statement.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] But the ladies of the tent are already upon it.. and cloth has been brought from the private area at the back of the structure in which to bedrape the men who have fallen for the final time. Two young blodmaegdens move now to tend the dead, understanding in their eyes, but a grim efficiency to their gesture.

The healess before Galdorim flashes him and easy grin and pushes a twist of loosened hair from out of her eyes before shaking her head. \"Think you nothing of it, mi\'lord.\"

\"I should hope not, mi\'lord Rorgan. It is a worse dilemma than once was the state of your leg.\" Serious now, though not patronizing, Aelspeth glances away from the Gondorian man and turns her eyes to her husband instead. \"Colinor, you are not well enough to tromp off through field and plain searching for those beasts in your condition.\"

\"Lieutenant, I see you there, and would like a word, if you\'ve the time,\" again the calm, the quiet voice, but it carries well when needed. The book is now placed face down upon Rorgan\'s good leg.

Galdorimhelps the young assistant to her feet with his large hand. He then helps her witht he fallens bandage. He looks towards her with a hopefull look. \"Might you of see the healer, Lady Aearwen lately?\" He looks over at Rorgan with pained irratated look. \"Yes, my friend. I will come over in a minute.\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Maegwyn, that is the young healess\' name, and she is just as bright and fresh as is it. Her smile widens and there comes a knowing glint into the uptilted blue of her eyes as she considers Galdorim, gathering her bandages back unto her breast and holding them tight. \"Nay, I have not, mi\'lord, not in several days. I should be glad to tell her, though, that you have been seeking her.\"

[Colinor(#29577)] Perhaps a bit overdramatic is Colinor, but he is what hsi blood dictates...a man of deep passions and slow-healing wounds of the soul. He nods politely to the healers who have moved to see to the body, and pointedly turns his back upon the scene, then. He shall remember his kinsman alive, not...like this. He has folded arms across his broad chest, and looks upon Aelspeth\'s gaze levelly now. He is a touch taller than she, and the two do make an impressive pair indeed. Whatever he is capable of hiding, it is not, in any way, his love for her. \"What shall I do, than, love?\" he asks, his voice softer now, \"We are so close to the end.\"

He lets the question hang there for pregnant seconds, does Colinor, before he turns his eyes to Rorgan. One of his hands has disentangled itself from the other folded arm, and it seeks that of Alspeth. \"Rorgan...\" he says, as if seeing the man for the first time in days, \"How do you feel?\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Oh slender fingers do twine within those of her husband as Aelspeth considers him coolly from beneath the yet-arched brow. \"You shall take to your bed and there keep yourself until I deem you well enough, my lord.\" Level her voice, not harsh.. but definitely touched with a shadow of command, as if she is used to issuing commands upon her own fields of battle and being heeded in them. But she does not interrupt again, angling her slender self that her eyes might return anew to Rorgan in his bed.

[Koribeorne(#14354)] A sound can be heard from a curtained off area as Koribeorne wakes. She brought herself to the healers and she now wakes to find the pain that they had told her might happen. From behind the curain a growl can be heard, it sounds less human and more like that of an animal.

Letting the lieutenant work out his own time to approach his cot, Rorgan\'s eyes now turn toward Colinor, \"I would think I\'m doing quite well, all things considered.\" His voice remains calm and reflective, but his eyes reflect his uncertainty with the answer back upon the man\'s wife, the Master Healer of Rohan.

\"The reading helps me keep my mind off it for the most part, I must confess, Lord Colinor.\" The animalistic growl from behind the curtained off area draws a bit of a frown from the tailor, but sympathy more than anger is reflected in his face.

Galdorim shakes his head ot the yound apprentice healer. \"No, she will just think less of me if thought I was looking for her.\' His voice gets a bitter tone to it as he shakes his head of black curly hair. He turns and walks away as he heads towards Rorgan\'s cot. As he makes his way over he hears the animalistic growl of Koribeorne an he stops and looks over to the curtained off area. His deep voice calls throught he curtain. \"Are you alright, Koribeorne?\"

[<#14354>] Koribeorne lets out another softer noise and then answers Galdorim softly, \"\" Her words come out in a strange tongue. Only moments after she speaks, she steps from behind the curtain, her cloak pulled firmly around herself. She looks at Galdorim with a bit of panic in her eyes, \'I think, perhaps I will walk.\' She seems very flustered.

Galdorim \'s pained eyes looks yo Koribeorne and sighs softly. \"Could you please let a healer look at your arms. I have filled your request that I promised the other day,\" He looks around as if he is trying to spot a healer that is free at the moment. \"Before we take yout here, I would feel better if you are looked at.\"

Koribeorne hangs her head slightly and nods, \"As you wish.\" She speaks softly but seems distracted, although her fever from the night before seems to have broken. She looks up again and her eyes focus on Rorgan and she bites her lip. She seems momentairly stilled from the panic that she had been feeling, \"How are you, Sir?\"

Rorgan mutters, \"So many secrets.\" Then he simply shakes his head and once again eyes the book, apparently convinced that the giant woman holds more of his friend\'s attention than he does.

A long moment passes before Rorgan realizes that the question from the giant woman was intended for him, and again his eyes look toward the Master Healer of Rohan as if he questions his answer, \"Well enough, all things considered, Lady Koribeorne.\" His hand reaches out for the cup of tea and another sip is taken.

Aelspeth speaks nothing to contrary, though it may be noted that a great deal of her attention goes into surrepticious study of the man from Gondor. Not all though, for her eyes slip sidelong, coming to rest upon Koribeorne, and they soften slightly, accompanied by a slight smile that does not ease the tension from her body. \"You are looking much better this day, I believe.\"

[Koribeorne(#14354)] The large woman nods her head as she keeps her gaze on Rorgan, anyone closely inspecting her would see that her nose twitches slightly as she does so. She seems to study him carefully for a moment before she winces with pain and looks around to see if there is a healer present. Her eyes flutter to Galdorim for a moment and then move quickly away. She looks back to Rorgan, \"I am glad to hear this.\"

Galdorim looks from Koribeorne to Lady Aelspeth. His deep voice adresses the master healer of Rohan. \"M\'lady Aelspeth, If you have time, could you looks at Koribeorne\'s arms?\" He waits for the lady\'s responce and moves closer to Rorgan. \"You needed me, my friend?\"

Colinor nods to Aelspeth, taking a step back from her and releasing his fingers from hers, as if to indicate that he understand that she has work to do. He looks towards the tent flap, pointedly not at her, and that takes her ability to glower him back into his bed away..

[Aelspeth(#20246)] And there is a healer present.. several healers in truth, though it is Aelspeth who moves from her place at the side of her husband. Dropping Colinor\'s fingers after a careful squeeze, she moves toward the central hearth and begins pouring out a measure of various teas. The smile with which she answers Galdorim comes from over a shoulder as she rises. \"Indeed, I shall, mi\'lord.\" Then back to Koribeorns does she sweep, moving quietly and assuming an innately soothing presence. \"Mi\'lady.. you should find this brew will ease your ache.\" The cup is held in both her hands, and her eyes skim over the other woman, noting various things within a moment\'s passage.

Nodding to the lieutenant, Rorgan intones, \"How goes your investigation, Lieutenant?\" He tilts his head, as if there is yet more to ask, but he waits for the man\'s response to this before he will continue.

Koribeorne looks to Aelspeth and smiles at her slightly. She moves her cloak aside so that her arms can be seen. Both of them are bandaged and her left hand trembles despite her efforts to hold it steady. She turns her back to Rorgan and Galdorim and focuses her attention on the healer....\"Nay, no more tea for me.\" She chuckles, \"Perhaps a good stiff drink\" She bites her lip slightly and holds her arms forward...\"It is not much, just discomfort.\"

Galdorim \'s pained face offers the tailor a smile. \"I did talk to Eowyn the other night. You are cleared of charges and the Silver Guard that were responcible are bound and await my punishment.\" His gaze looks to Koribeorne and Aelspeth to make sure the tall beoring is being taken care of. He then looks to Rorgan and shakes his head. \"I hate to be responsible for more death, but they will most likely be executed.\"

Aelspeth\'s smile quirks slightly to the side as she moves to draw a stool to a position beside Koribeorne\'s cot.. and then gracefully assumes a seat. \"Discomfort is better than pain, mi\'lady.. though both are things not to be sought.\" Her head tilts slightly, and she lifts a slim, capable hand.. pausing with it half held toward the other woman. \"Might I?\" is her query, matched with a questioning look at the bandages.

Koribeorne nods slightly as her eyes flicker between her own arms and the face of the healer, \"Aye, do what ye wish.\" She seems to have accepted the fate that she is to let the humans try to help.

A bit of a smile now crosses the tailor\'s face, \"Aye, but deservedly so, Galdorim. I would have saved you the trouble, but I thought it would be seen as more than was needed, and that, or more properly, you\'re reaction to that, was what irked them with you in the first place.\" Then after only a brief pause, he asks, \"And of the map? Has the lair been found with it?\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Her hands are more gentle than most would believe, and more efficient as well. Aelspeth merely nods to Koribeorne, and then begins carefully unwrapping the bandages that bind the other lady\'s arm. One of the younger woman of the tent is there immediately to carry away the soiled linen and to provide the Master Healer with a basin of cool, boiled water and her satchel. \"This will heal with little scar I hope, mi\'lady,\" speaks the low-voiced healess as she laves the wound with water and then delves around in her bag for a particular jar of thin-spun blue glass. It is filled with a creamy salve scented vaguely of flowers, and this does she slather into the wounds. Cool it is.. and possessed of many properties, one of which is the ability to numb an injury.. hence the reason it is used.

Galdorim shakes his head as he looks down. \"It does me good to have both our names cleared up, but...\" He shakes his head and looks at his Friend. \"No, it has not been found, but your Sergeant is keeping it safe....from everyone.\" He grumbles the last couple words. His gaze looks over to Koribearne and Aelspeth and back at Rorgan.

[Koribeorne(#14354)] As the bandages clear from the wounds on the beornings arms, the bite marks that appear look more healed then the day before. They seem to heal quickly, suprisingly so, but there is still much blood on the bandages. Most of the wounds were well cleaned, but where blood marks the bandages, there are still traces of fur. The one wound that shows no sign of healing is the reopening of the scar on her left wrist. She moves her arm slightly, raising it upwards and then stops herself and places it back down with a shake of her head.

[Colinor(#29577)] With Aelspeth\'s attention conveniently distracted, Colinor bends over, takes the cup of foul tea from his bedside, pours it into a nearby flowerpot (or anything else convenient, like Rorgan\'s shoe), and deftly...sneaks out of the tent, and away from the healers...

A grunt or a chuckle could both describe the sound that Rorgan makes at this comment, \"It was but a copy, Galdorim. I have the original in an even safer place...\" He trails off momentarily, \"It\'s just that I don\'t trust the mapmaker. I mean, why *should* we trust him? What has he done to prove himself? If it wasn\'t for the presence of Grufaroth in the battle, and his head, hide, and collar now in my possession, I would doubt that we were even near such a foul place as he claims to have located. Then there\'s that. How could *one man* locate such a place all by himself?\" Rorgan shakes his head, pausing for another sip of the tea, \"There is much more to this man than meets the eye, friend.\"

Aelspeth doesn\'t frown.. but her lips do purse in concentration, one palm coming to rest flat down upon Koribeorne\'s forearm as the lady moves it. The smile curves slightly upward as the healer\'s eyes seek out those of her patient in silent understanding, then back to the task does she go. A pouch, bound up with a twist of azure and saffron yarns is next selected, and a thin line of well-ground herb poured in a trail into each of the woman\'s wounds. Then come the bandages, fresh linen rewound with a deft skill that moves so quickly the task is completed almost before it\'s begun.

Koribeorne smiles at the healer, \"Thank ye Lady, you do your craft well, your hands are guided by the Bear.\" Koribeorne speaks softly and thinks carefully about her words. It seems odd that she has greater pain when she is not being touched by the healers then when she is. There is a great strain in her body however as each muscle remains tense.

Aelspeth shakes her head, and gathers her things before rising to smile at the woman beside her in the bed. \"I am honoured that you believe so, mi\'lady. I do urge you to take some of our teas, they will ease your body\'s strain and in relaxation.\" Amusement is in her eyes as she lowers her voice slightly, \"And for those such as you, I oft flavor their bitterness with honey.\"

[Koribeorne(#14354)] As the healer speaks this last sentance, Koribeorne stands, almost knocking over a near by stool. She takes a step back, her eyes wide as she looks at the woman. Her eyes flash towards Galdorim, once again the panic returning and then she looks back to Aelspeth, \"Nay, I wish no tea.\" She begins to make her way towards the door, her long strides taking her there quickly.

Galdorim smirks at Rorgan and shrugs his shoulders. \"THere is much more to any man that meets the eye.\" He points to an injured guardsman on a cot. \"take Naerdon here. He is the father of four children. He love his wife more than life itself, yet he joins us on this trip.\" he looks to Rorgan \"did you know that, my friend?\" He looks to Koribeorne as he tries to go. He calls out towards her. \"Koribeorne, Would you like ot see what I arranged for you?!\"

Aelspeth is startled enough to move backward, eyes widening as Koribeorne all but leaps upward from her bed. Then following after is the healer, coming to the door hot upon the heels of the other woman. \"Nay.. you mustn\'t go, lady. Take no teas if you do not want them, but take your rest here.\" Back to the door, the slender woman intersperces herself between her patient and escape.

[Koribeorne(#14354)] With the healer now in the way of her exit, Koribeorne steps backwards towards Galdorim. She seems very frightened, her eyes wide. Her fingers clench and unclench which only seems to bring her greater pain. She looks to Galdorim and then away from him again. Her actions are almost that of a cornered animal as she steps around putting Galdorim between herself and the healer.

Fingering the book upon his leg absently, Rorgan looks up to the Lieutenant, awaiting some form of response to his queries into the trustworthiness of Amrindor. The faded embossing of the letters that form the title is traced, \'History of Numenore\' but the author\'s name has faded to indistinguishability with time. Then he nods to the words of the lieutenant.

\"Aye, and what about that wine merchant in Osgiliath? Or the woman who accosted me in Caldur? Were they not both proven to be spies and traitors?\" Again the head of Rorgan shakes from side to side, \"I have an evil premonition of breaching the lair, friend. I tried to send Azragath to do this thing, for the men of the Silver Guard are strong yet, and are not in great need so long as I am cooped up here. If I could but walk, I would lead what hearty men there are to be found in the camp to the place the map describes and see for myself if it is a trap or a truth.\"

Aelspeth isn\'t dull, she does not pursue Koribeorne, she merely keeps her ground, straightening at the mouth of the tent. Watching the other woman she, nevertheless, speaks to someone else, addressing her voice to he who seems to be her friend. \"Mi\'lord Galdorim, if you would please speak to mi\'lady and lead her to understand that none here will enforce treatment upon her.\" Her gaze shifts, to the man to whom she speaks. \"It is important that she rest several more days before moving so freely about, or being released from the care of the healers.\"

Galdorim seems to not hear Rorgan\'s inquiries and worries of traitors and such. He looks at Koribeorne with concern. \"Are you alright? Lady Aelspeth is a good healer.\" He looks up to the tall beoring and places a comforting hand on her cheek. \"Be calm, my friend. Do you wish to leave? I will take yout o a place you can be alone.\"

[<#14354>] With the touch of the man\'s hand on her cheek, Koribeorne seems to relax slightly, her gaze falling on him for another moment before her eyes return to scanning the room. She speaks very softly to him, \"... ... ...?\" She seems very concerned, although some of her fear fades as she looks once again to Galdorim. \"... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ...\"

Aelspeth also calms, though does not move to unbar the only visible exit from the tent. Standing there, she swings her eyes across those being tended, over Rorgan and an empty cot then to a man whose head is smothered in bandages. Then.. then back to the empty cot. That produces a frown, a frown that speaks of purpose as the healer beckons over one of the ever-present assistants. Quiet words are exchanged, and the Master Healer\'s expression darkens considerably as she shakes her head.

The tailor falls to grumbling with himself as he picks the book back up and begins to read again, or seemingly so, but his eyes bely the fact that he is, indeed, watching what passes between his friend and the giant woman. A sigh, and Rorgan reaches for the tea at his bedside, taking a long draught, another possible distraction from the scene unfolding in front of him.

Galdorim nods and looks at the miffed Rorgan. He smiles at him. \"I shall be back, my friend.\" He pats his shoulder and then looks to Koribeorne. \"No, none know.\" He says very softly. His voice picks up. \"Let me take you to a place where you can rest and have solitude.\"

Koribeorne looks to Rorgan as his grumbles penetrate her concentration on egress. She then nods to Galdorim and says, \"Thank you.\" Once again her eyes turn to Rorgan, \"I will not keep him long, he has more imporant business then me.\" She tries to give Rorgan a bit of a smile as she says this, \"Perhaps, in time, when you are healed, I might speak with you?\"

Aelspeth watches.. and though she does not seemed pleased with the resolution of this problem, a preoccupation is upon the lady now. Satisfied that Galdorim will well see to the care of the lady who has run from her own, she gives to the man a calm nod, managing to convey the importance of her prior words to him in regard to Koribeorne\'s condition. It is not life threatening, or she would retain her ground and give up none.. but cautions must yet be taken. As it is, the lady must now have some extremely pressing business, for she turns and moves out of the tent with a look of grimness stealing her calm expression, and her eyes alight with focus.

Rorgan\'s voice lowers, now, for only the lieutenant to hear as he is patted upon the shoulder, \"More than likely, Gald, she is exactly what you need right now.\" He smiles faintly, then addresses the question of the giant woman, \'\'My progress in healing has little to do with my ability to speak, Lady Koribeorne, or to listen. The opportunity to speak with you would be much appreciated.\'\'

Koribeorne nods once more to Rorgan, \"It would seem that it would do us well to speak, but I must speak in private, or perhaps with Galdorim, if his time is his own for such matters.\" With that said, she falls silent, her eyes on her heads.

Galdorim quirks an eyesbrow with confusion as if he does not understand what Rorgan whispered to him. He then looks to the beutiful tall beoring. \"Where I am taking you, you will have privacy. I do have time to talk, if that is what you with, m\'lady.\"

Koribeorne looks up at Galdorim and a smile appears on her lips, all be it ever so slight. She places her hand gently on his arm for a moment and says, \"Ah, to rest first would do me well, you should return to your friend. Once I have rested, then we will talk.\"

Only now do Rorgan\'s eyes return fully to the book he has been reading, and he mutters a faint farewell for his friend and the giant woman even as he scans the page to find the place where he last left off. This is his routine of late, and he will remain propped up on his cot reading until the healesses come round and help him lay down just before they douse most of the lanterns for the night.

Galdorim mods and pats his friend\'s shoulder. he looks to Koribeorne and smiles faintly. \"Shall we go then?\" he starts to stride across the enterance towards the exit.