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

*Note - log submitted by Rorgan*

Long Plain

The grassy plains continue in all directions. Here upon a grassy knoll you feel safe as you would be able to see anyone coming from aways away.

Contents:

A Camp of Men(#15235Qae)

Obvious exits:

South leads to Long Plain.

North leads to Along the Slopes of the Misty Mountains.

East leads to Long Plain.

Doing set.

[Dolwyr(#19367)] The sun lightens the camp as it rises more and more above the horizon. Agitation is growing as more and more of the people living in the camp start getting out of their tents. Here and there, servants are running with buckets, backers bring fresh bred, and soldiers enjoy the heat of a cup of tea. Near the fire, a few men and women are assembled. Some might recognize Lady Maeghan, talking to Leif. Behind them stands Dolwyr, holding a bowl, blowing gently on the surface from time to time to cool the liquid. Absorbed by his own thoughts, he says to himslef \"I have the feeling this is going to be a very long day...\"

Tivadar walks out of his tent eyes down to the bright light of the sun, walking over to one of the servents he gets a small cup of tea, scanning the area he looks at all the people taking notice to the man gently blowing into a bowl he nods in his direction and slowly starts to make his way over there.

[Shandor(#27214)] Coming from outside of the camp, a long since injured guard slowly limps back into the camp proper. He glances around as he sees the party begin to wake up and pulls the hood of his cloak up and over his head, slowly limping towards the fire.

It could well turn out to be a long day indeed. Overnight two guards have dissappeared from the pickets surrounding camp, and one of the Gondorian tents was toppled and empty as the sun rose. Rorgan inspects this tent carefully, with two Minas Tirith Guardsmen looking on. He looks up to the men and mutters a one word in affirmation of what the men in the area are already thinking, \"Wargs.\"

One of the guards accompanying Rorgan nods to the man, and some of the other onlookers gather closer to the tent and begin to poke around some. Rorgan singles one out, a private, saying, \"I know that some of Lord Faramir\'s Scouts are about. Fetch me one of them lad, and be quick about it.\" Then turning to another young man, he sends him off in the direction of the Rohirrim camp with another set of instructions, \"Fetch Lord Colinor, lad. He needs to know about this, as well.\"

[Dolwyr(#19367)] The sun lightens the camp as it rises more and more above the horizon. Agitation is growing as more and more of the people living in the camp start getting out of their tents. Here and there, servants are running with buckets, backers bring fresh bred, and soldiers enjoy the heat of a cup of tea. Near the fire, a few men and women are gathered, namely Dolwyr, Tivadar, Maeghan, Leif, Minnar and a few others. Somewhere else in the camp, Rorgan inspects a tent where people have gone missing. The rumour of wargs that have attacked the camp by night is sreading quickly across the field.

[Shandor(#27214)] The guard takes up some of the food sitting near the fire and makes his way into the mass of tents, yawning slightly.

[Maeghan(#29549)] Gathering up a cup of tea, Maeghan says softly, \"I will take this to Rorgan...if you gentlemen will excuse me...\", the lady rises and frowns, also picking up some breakfast. \"He will want to hear the news...this is bad indeed, brave are those evil beasts to attack our camp...\", shaking her head her face grows more grim.

[Colinor(#29577)] He shows, having been roused by the men sent for him by Rorgan, does Colinor, with Aelspeth hand in hand, he stalks towards the tailor, the sleep already having fled his features, for he is growing accustomed once again to a life in the field. \"I came as soon as I could,\" he tells the tailor, drawing short of the man and bowing perfunctorily at the waist, ever so slightly, \"Word is that there are men missing.\"

A nod to the Rohir, half in greeting, half in confirmation, \"Aye, missing they are. No doubt dead by now. I\'ve sent for a tracker, as well. Perhaps we\'ll have some luck finding something this day.\" Rorgan raises his voice and bellows, \"WHERE\'S THAT SCOUT!?!\"

[Dolwyr(#19367)] A young eoscealc, no more than forteen years old, approches the fire and bends over one of his friends ear, whispering \"Have you heard? Some of the guards have dissapeared!\". Dolwyr listen to those words with concern, and turns to Maeghan, nodding as she leaves. He finishes quickly the last sips of his tea, before returning to his horse, a ear turned in the direction of Rorgan and Colinor, trying to hear bribes of the conversation.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Gravity consumes the fineness of her features as Aelspeth moves along beside her husband, turning a darkened scrutiny to the tailor of Gondor as they approach the place where Rorgan stands. Her own greeting is not verbal, though she does incline her head with a liquid grace better suited to some foreign court than the open beauty of the plain. Concerned she is by her expression, or lack of one, and the healer\'s satchel that is ever at her side is more full than usual this morning, hedge against whatever the day might bring. She jumps slightly as the man shouts, but gains her composure quickly, giving a shake of her head. \"We\'d best have more than merely some luck, mi\'lord.\"

\"Move away from there, you, before you spoil the tracks!\" Rorgan growls at a hapless rider across the way. Despite his efforts to keep the dissapearances quiet, a rather large crowd is gathering in the area, and his next instructions are obviously for damage control, \"Stay upcamp of this tent. Don\'t spoil the tracks.\" He singles out yet another guardsman, \"Fetch Lieutenant Galdorim as soon as he\'s available and bring him here as well.\" Dark indeed is the visage of the tailor this morn, as if the men missing were some of his own.

[Mardamir(#27388)] Leaning up against one of the wains is Mardamir, a tall man and broad of shoulder. Between his teeth he clenches a length of leather string as he braids the black hair that drops about his face. While at this simple task, his eyes rove about, seeming to find and linger upon the few fairer members of the camp that pass with the smoothness of step that is their grace. A smile playing upon his lips he finishes the braid to quickly tie the leather string about the end before pushing away from the wain. A few steps forward he takes, the smile changing to a frown at the commotion growing within the camp.

Colinor offers his profile to Aelspeth and Rorgan, who stand nearby, as he looks out over the camp. he notes the fallen tent, making a mental note to ask about that as well, though his mind jumps quickly to other things. He catches sight of a rroup of riders nearby, who are speaking amongst themselves, and they are perhaps taken a bit off guard by the crispness of his tone, \"You! I want all of the riders assembled, accounted for, and on horseback within the next fifteen minutes. There is work to be done!\" Lending, perhaps, some inspiration from Rorgan, he barks his orders, which send the riders--all of them into instant movement, as they strive to obey the orders, which have obviously signalled an official beginning to today\'s movements. That done, Colinor turns his attention to Rorgan, \"We\'ll waste no time then, today. I shall ready Werrebrand, and the lot of us shall begin today\'s hunt.\" He takes a deep breath through flared nostrils. \"It has the feel of fate, this day. The smell of it.\"

[Maeghan(#29549)] Reaching Rorgan, Maeghan gasps, \"Rorgan! The news that I have heard!\", the mug of tea and breakfast half forgotten in her hands, lowering her voice, \"I just heard about those who have disappeared...bold indeed have they become...\", she shakes her head and then nods to Aelspeth and Colinor, \"Aelspeth, Colinor...it is good to see you again...\", remembering the mug, Maeghan hands it to Rorgan, \"I brought you some tea...and some breakfast...\"

Dolwyr moves to his saddle and turns to his horse, at Colinor\'s words \"There we go, Tira, this seems like time for us to help Rohan\" he lifts his saddle and puts it on the back of his mare, adjusting the straps, verifying every buccle, and finally jumping on his horse... he bends over her strong neck and whispers at her hear \"here we go, Tira, this is the time...\"

Tivadar stands from his long silence while eating, only listening to bits and peices of the conversation around him he keeps to himself the thoughts of what may have happened to the guards, walking away from the fire and handing his food tray to a servent while grabbing another cup of tea he scans the people around the site looking for a friendly face.

Upon receipt of the tea and small breakfast, Rorgan offers his intended a thin smile, \"Aye, they have grown bold. According to the map that tracker drew me, we\'re very close to their lair, so they may be growing desparate. The Rohirrim are assembling, and it\'s time to call out the Gondorians, as well.\" He looks to Colinor, \"Leave the current watch upon the camp, Colinor, so that the Wargs can\'t steal in and get at our food.\" He looks down at his biscuit for a moment before taking a bite and a sip of the tea.

Colinor stops, en route to his horse, to turn around a few paces away. He meets Rorgan\'s eyes with his own, \"And what if the Wargs have thoughs liek they did...that day?\" There is no need to mention what that day was...they both know.

Rorgan\'s eyes meet those of Colinor, \"There\'s more than four men in our watches, Colinor. I say keep a guard on the food, and if we need to leave more men behind, then so be it.\"

[Tivadar(#29450)] seeing noone that he really knows around the area Tivadar slowly makes his way over to his horse Deorcsceadu, gently petting the side of it and fixing the saddle, positioning his spear on the side of the black warhorse he mounts it slowly and rides it around the outside of the campsite getting it warmed up.

Minnar frowns as he looks up from where he has been silent so long \"But if we leave men behind will that not hinder our attempts to find and slay the beasts?

Again Rorgan bellows, his voice carrying across the camp, \"Where\'s that scout?!?\" Then he gives an order to one of the nearby men, \"Get the word out, lad, everyone who\'s not a part of the watch is to assemble. We\'re going to go find us some Wargs.\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] From the southern plain comes a baying voice of a hound and the thunder of hooves. A single horsemen and beside him a great hunting hound. Sable he is clad and upon his head is a great winged helm.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] She has been occupied by discussion with some unnamed Rider.. he bearing bandages along his forearm for a warg-unrelated incident. Now Aelspeth returns her attention to the others, offering a smile to Maeghan, that is terse.. but only due to the situation. \"Greetings, mi\'lady.. will you remain behind in wait, or travel ahead to tend the injured upon the field?\" Quietly spoken that, woman to woman, though perhaps those nearby will overhear.

[Maeghan(#29549)] \"Will they allow you to ride, Rorgan?\", her brows draw together in a faint frown as Maeghan\'s thoughts rest for a moment upon the fact of her betrothed being under guard, then her visage clears and she manages a weak smile of support for the tailor.

Minnar rises quietly from his seat and seeks out his own horse, tightening the straps and checking on his weapon

Tivadar turns his horse to Rorgan he makes a quick gallop for him hearing a call for scouts stopping just short of the man he turns the horse looks down and speaks, \"I heard a call for scouts sir, I am a scout of the Rohirrim what need of me do you seek?\"

Maeghan looking to Aelspeth she says softly, \"I know not...usually I ride to battle with the men, bringing our wounded off the field of battle, but...this is a different situation...what think you on this matter?\", her voice low as well as she councils with the other healess.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Now the rider and hound bound up to the camp, heading straightways for the banners of Gondor.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] A few lithe paces is all it takes to sever the distance betwixt herself and the other woman. \"I am accustomed to riding into the field myself, mi\'lady, and believe in my heart that those who are injured by these fell beasts may not survive the journey back to this camp once the monsters have been found.\" The Rohirric woman pauses, then contines, \"I will go, and Siolfaliht will bear me there.\" Faint smile graces her lips as she reaches out to rest her hand on the Gondorian healer\'s shoulder.

Colinor nods, trusting Rorgan\'s instincts and spinning upon the ball of his foot. \"Make it so...four guards from our men,\" he says to one of the riders who is in the midst of saddling up a brown mare. The tall, blonde heir-apparent to Forensvale walks up to Aelspeth, then, stopping to reach out, laying a gentle hand upon her shoulder, waiting for her to find a break in the conversation for him. \"Love..\" he intones, his voice less insistent with her than it is with the men, touched with the deference bourne of love, \"Will you be riding with us?\"

His eyes flitting from guard to guard, \"If they don\'t want to end up in your care, they will.\" It is not a threat, but Rorgan then smiles, \"I was placed under guard, not under arrest. There\'s a fine distinction, but as far as I know, I should be free to go where e\'er I want, so long as I take these two lads with me.\" In confirmation, Baeden, one of the Minas Tirith Guards assigned to watch the tailor after the rather unfortunate incident with the two Merchant\'s Guild Silver Guardsmen, nods. \"Aye. Them\'s our orders, m\'lady.\"

Rorgan looks up at the sound of hooves approaching from the South and smiles, though among the Gondorian camp, he might be the only one to show such a positive reaction to the arrival of the Lord Bragollach, \"Lord Indilzar and the great wolfhound Huan arrive. You, lad,\" he points to yet another man, \"Go see to the Lord Bragollach and ask him to gather what men we have here.\"

[Mardamir(#27388)] Near enough to the group at which Rorgan seems centre to, Mardamir\'s attention is divided between the conversation and the tall woman among them. While he listens, his unabashed gaze rests in admiration upon the slender beauty with amber hair until he finds himself interrupted by the bellowed request from Rorgan. Turning his gaze away from the woman to Tailor, Mardamir raises a brow and makes a reply, \"If you would give name to the scout, sir, he may yet answer you.\"

\"Set the rest of the men to guard the camp,\" Rorgan instructs a near-by sergeant.

Colinor frowns at another rider, \"Bring me my guitar.\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] Even as Rorgan says and before the lad can do what he would Indilzar comes. He leaps spryly off his horse as Huan bounds with him. He laughs, \"Well Rorgan, well met. What news from the north?\"

[Maeghan(#29549)] Nodding, Maeghan says, \"Then we shall ride together, Firefly will bear me...he has stood steady in the face of many great evils, he will bear me well now..\", the firey hair sways gently as Maeghan nods again and smiles faintly to Aelspeth, \"All our skills will be needed this day if I am not much mistaken...\", she sighs, \"But I am confident that we will triumph in the end...\"

Minnar quickly finishes his inspection and swings up on his mare. As he does she snorts, tossing her head and pawing the ground. With a small smile he settles her and awaits the call to ride out.

A nod from the tailor to the scout, and his attention is shifted momentarily to the Bragollach, \"Dire news, friend.\" He points to the collapsed tent in explanation before returning his gaze to the scout, \"Jolly good answer, friend, but I\'m afraid we haven\'t officially met, have we?\" He begins to extend his hand, then drops it, \"No time for formalities. You know who I am, and if I had your name, scout, I\'d\'ve used it.\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] Huan sniffs the feet of Rorgan and attempts to leap up on him to lick his face.

\"Heel Huan!\" cries Indilzar. He reaches over as the wolf-hound leaps down to the earth, \"Battle shall come soon enough and your wierd shall be complete as the ages of old. For what master, not even Celegorm of old, could deny a hound the hunt?\"

Dolwyr, on the back of Tiracryl, approches Colinor, and says \"All riders are ready, Lord Colinor. Your words shall be our orders, your sword shall be our light. Make it so.\" He smiles, and rests his finger on the neck of her mare, to calm the animal.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar turns his horse to the other Rohirrim rider who just mounted riding up to him he settles his horse next the man smiling he nods and waits for the call to ride.

\"Of course you may ride with me, Maeg,\" Rorgan addresses now his intended, \"Until we\'ve found the Wargs. Then you\'ll do as you always do at the back of whatever lines are drawn and I\'ll do what I do at the front of whatever lines are drawn.\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] Glancing at the tent for a long moment the aristocratic brow of Indilzar arches thinly, \"Has Gabbard been at work?\"

A bark of a laugh now comes from the tailor. Rorgan can\'t help himself. \"Lord Indilzar, from the tracks, this is NOT the work of your squire.\"

Colinor looks over hsi shoulder to Dolwyr as the man addresses him, and a grin finds his face, a flashing of white teeth and dimples that used to belong to a man much softer than he is now. \"My spear, perhaps. You don\'t want to see me wield a sword,\" he jokes. \"Riders, stand ready!\" he calls out, \"We ride with the Gondorians...\"

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar smiles at the man not expecting a response from him, thinking he nods, \"Actually we have but it was for a very short time.\"

Indilzar looks nonplussed and says, \"Very well then. In trackless lands and far from home we must do what we may. Let our hunt begin and let no man shirk of his duty. Are all with spear? Are horses reigned. The hounds led by huan shall cut through our prey as if the very light of dawn cutting the shrouds of Mordor.\"

Minnar swings his horse in behind Colinor beckoning to Tivadar to join him

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar turns his horse and gallops up beside the man, grabbing the spear off the side of the horse he slings it on his back.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Again she has been distracted by one of the men, Aelspeth attending the business of her craft for one who prepares to ride out to new injury. When she turns, the tall healess finds none of her original companions, but it bothers her not, for she gathers the implements of her skill and moves off whistling a soft series of notes. They are night lost in the bustle of departure, but she to whom they were directed hears and comes. With a silvery jingle of tack and a high-stepping grace, Siolfaliht canters up only to stop and nuzzle the woman. A few moments are spent in quiet words and gentle strokes along the mare\'s neck, then Aelspeth mounts up.

[Mardamir(#27388)] Pausing while Rorgan seems to speak in all directions at once, the tall black haired man offer speaks slowly, \"We have not met and I think that I am not the scout you call for. Yet I will offer my name to you. Mardamir it is.\", he says, inclining his head, \"And will you share yours or must I call only your title among men when I have need to speak with you?\", he asks, amusement held within the tone of his question.

One of the men Rorgan sent off now returns, \"The men that will hunt are assembled at the edge of camp, M\'lord. The rest are at the guard posts.\" Rorgan nods to the man, as another man arrives, the stump of his right arm still bandaged at the elbow. This man also speaks, \"Your horse, Master Rorgan.\" The man wears the livery of the Silver Guard, and Rorgan gives the man a nod, taking Ardanne\'s reigns from him, \"Well done, lad. Stay with the camp. We\'ve already lost enough of you to the Wargs.\" Then Rorgan swings up into the saddle and surveys the surrounding scene, spotting the assembled Silver Guardsmen and some few Minas Tirith Guardsmen and Dol Amroth Men at Arms that will be riding with them. The remainder of the Gondorian force is posted at intervals around the camp.

\"Mardamir it is, then, very well. You may call me Rorgan, if that\'s your wont, for that is my name.\" The tailor offers a brief smile, \"Can you follow a trail, Mardamir?\"

Dolwyr nods at every new rider gathering near Colinor, and greats evry one of them with a warm smile. He then directs his clear blue eyes above the crowd to the people around and spots Aelspeth he tries to smile at her, an almost sad, compassionate smile, but isn\'t even sure she noticed him...

Maeghan nods to Rorgan, smiling faintly as he misinterprets her comment, but all she says is, \"I will gather my things, they are at the ready in my tent...I will return within a few moments...\", she turns and before she walks away says, \"Good morn Indililzar...it is a pleasure to see you once more...\", offering the nobleman a faint smile she moves away towards her tent to gather the instruments and herbs of her trade.

Mardamir observes as those around him rise upon their mounts and make ready to depart. He nods to the Tailor, \"That I can, Rorgan, but not so quickly as those of you that ride.\"

Minnar smiles back at Dolwyr before looking back at Rogan eagerly

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar shuffles on the saddle of his horse as it snorts and side steps a bit, petting the mane of the horse he leans forward and whispers in its ear, \"Calm down we will be moving in a second.\"

Rorgan nods to the scout, \"That is well and good, but here\'s what I have in mind: I want that trail traced to the very lair that spawns these beasts. That is a job much better done on foot, I\'d say, and if you know of any of the Scouts who serve with Lord Faramir who are about, take them with you and attempt to find the lair. I\'ve no doubt that this attack is a ploy to draw our main force from the camp, and I want them to pay dearly for the trap we may be about to ride into.\"

Mardamir folds his arms across his chest and lifts one hand to stratch thougtfully at the stubble upon his chin, \"Is it you that commands the men of Faramir, here?\", his calm question more of a silent challenge to the Tailor.

\"I hold no rank other than that of an advisor, Mardamir. Talk it over with your captain Mablung, if that is your desire. I would hope he finds this counsel wise.\" Rorgan offers the man a level gaze, with very little in the way of apology.

[Maeghan(#29549)] Returning with her bags of healing strapped to her waist, Maeghan says, \"I am ready to leave...\", after her words she goes silent, awaiting any further instruction.

Minnar shifts impatently in his saddle as the power struggle between Rorgan and the othe other man continues.

[Maeghan(#29549)] An aide leads the bronze warhorse over to Maeghan, handing her the reins. The healess nods with a smile, \"I thank you....\", she gently pats the neck of the stallion, she murmers to him softly and lets him rest his head upon her shoulder.

Mardamir chuckles inwardly at Rorgan\'s answer and then replies, \"I might consult with Mablung as my Captain if he were that and not what he is: a companion.\", he says, making it clearer to the man, \"And I might speak with him as my fellow, if he were here, but he is not.\", he adds and drops his hands down to his belt to adjust the sword belt there, \"But if you\'ve need for those who can read the marks, then that we will do.\"

Rorgan nods to the man, \"That need does exist, friend Mardamir, and you and the help of \'your companions\' is appreciated.\"

[Colinor(#29577)] Werrebrand prances excitedly, Colinor handling his reins tight and reaching down with a free hand, gloved in dark brown leather, to scritch the beast\'s mane. He watches the discussion going on between Rorgan and Mardamir, emerald eyes intent. Finally, he rides up beside the tailor, looking over at Marmadir and inclining his golden-locked head. A question is in that nod, or a statement. The tracker or trackers are needed, and waiting only reduces the chance of survival for those who have disappeared. \"Methinks the beasts shall not wait all day for us,\" he says, his tone offhand.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar shuffles in his saddle as Deorcsceadu gets rather impatiant of standing around.

Minnar lets out a small laugh at Colinor\'s statement and nods in agreement

Dolwyr lays his fingers on the neck of his mare, and whispers are her hooves pawns the ground with excitation \"Shh, now, Tira, stay calm, stay calm...\" he then stands straight and takes a circular look at the crowd gathered. His eyes lay upon the Hound of Indalzar, that may be causing part of the nervousness of his horse. At Colinor words, he grabs the reins firmly by small pulls on the hackamore. He stands still, waiting for the call...

[Indilzar(#10108)] Bragollach, who was standing nigh now pats the head of Huan and says to Rorgan, \"Mardamir. Valiant you may be but this is a strange land. If you decide this course then I bid you go forth with the Hounds of Amroth who can smell a danger ere it strikes.\"

Aelspeth, for her part, merely waits, displaying some of the seemingly endless patience which she is usually wont to exhibit. There is, however, a flashing in her gaze as it shifts to track Colinor\'s progress and his words can be heard from where she sits. Siolfaliht is opposed in temperment to her mistress, tensed and eager to be on with it, a delicate hoof stamping more than once against the resilient earth.

All the other horses impatience begins to catch even the patient steed Ardanne, and as the horse turns a tight semi-circle, Rorgan raises his arm, addressing all present, \"I have it upon reliable sources that we are both very near to the lair and that the pack leader of these wargs is at least intelegent enough to learn some of the languages of man. There is no reason for that to alarm you, though, for we are strong in numbers and we know that the attack in the night was a ploy to draw us from the camp. We are going to have our revenge, Rider and Gondorian alike, because we know more about these beasts than they know of us. The time has come to ride for the hunt. Ride well, for every warg we slay this day will be one less we must slay in the lair when it is finally uncovered.\"

\"Now, RIDE!\" Rorgan cries as he lowers his hand and spurrs his mount forward.

[Mardamir(#27388)] The approaching thud of hooves on hard ground lift Mardamir\'s gaze up to another man, \"No they shall not.\", his short reply to Colinor, and then cries a name over the din of the camp, \"Halvorn!\" Two green gauntlets are tucked into the Ranger\'s belt which he draws out and pulls over his scarred hands while looking to yet another man. Indilzar. Tossing his chin at the hound at his feet, he says, \"That will do well, but what name does it go by and will it obey another\'s command?\"

[Maeghan(#29549)] Lightly, the healess possessed of the molten hair climbs astride her much taller steed. Holding the reins, she gives the eager stallion his head and he leaps forward, keeping pace easily with Rorgan\'s mount. Maeghan lowers herself against his neck, streamlining the rider and horse. She says nothing, instead focusing upon the ride.

Indilzar glances up at Rorgan and smiles lightly for a moment and then turns to Mardamir, \"The Hound is named Huan, after Huan of Valinor of old and he knows the speech of Men.\" He then turns and calls, \"HUAN! Come hither!\"

Minnar\'s head snaps up at the sudden call and he lets out a loud cheer as he watches Rorgan\'s horse leap forward. Almost as quickly he spurs his mare forward into a gallop and follows.

[Indilzar(#10108)] The great hound bounds up, tongue wagging. He comes before his master and sniffs the boots of Mardamir.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar quickly reaches for the reigns of his horse and spurs it forward, suddenly the large warhorse of the Rohirrim moves forward at amazing speed following Minnar.

[Colinor(#29577)] At Rorgan\'s words, Colinor lets Werrebrand loose just a tad, though he must discourage the dappled gray stallion from bolting on ahead, so excited is the beast, smelling the tension in the air, sensing that the end of the hunt is near. He keeps firmly to the right hand side of the tailor, signalling for the Riders of the Mark to form up behind him, which they do in short order.

Aelspeth need not spur anyone, Siolfaliht has leapt into the air to race the wind as a swan sets forth upon the waters. Grace and speed combine themselves as one in the silvery-coated mare, and in the passage of heartbeats, she bears her rider onward, through the camp and beyond.. though the healess keeps the mare to her place within the Rohirric line of the column, using but the shifting of her slight wait and the lowness of a spoken word.

And as Rorgan moves into the group of Silver Guardsmen, the tow Minas Trith Guardsmen who also escort him joining the ranks as well, the Gondorians surge forward, heading toward the North under a wide conglomeration of banners and at the beat of a young man banging a drum from where he sits aback of Azragath Khozadan\'s horse, under the watchful eye of the commander of the Silver Guard.

You leave North.

Along the Slopes of the Misty Mountains

You stand on the lower flanks of the Misty Mountains, where the lightly forested slopes level off to meet a long plain comprised of small copses and grasses hovering between life and the withering heat of the summer. Gazing far to the east across the afternoon plain, you can barely make out the line of the river Anduin. A rough path leads up and northwards along the range.

Contents:

Obvious exits:

A mountain path leads to A path along the flanks of the Misty Mountains.

South leads to Long Plain.

[Colinor(#29577)] They ride on, does the war party, assembled of men and women and beasts from the sister lands of Rohan and Gondor both, combined here, now, to set the land free from the curse of darkness which has befallen it in the form of the spawn of evil. Colinor, once so unlikely a person to ride at the head of such a party, does so now, along with Rorgan of Gondor. The columns of Gondorians and Rohirrim number nearly seventy in all, neat rows arranged behind the men, banners streaming in the midmorning wind which whips cloaks and blows hair and makes those who are here feel...alive. It is a cooler morn than many here, near the mountains, though the heat will come with day, this much is certain. There is an air of electricity amongst the men. Wariness....readiness. The knowledge that, perhaps, the day shall end not only with the extinction of the hellspawn, but with the lessening of their own ranks.

[Spot(#23437)] The summer\'s breeze causes grass to dance, trees to wave, and a good cooling for the animals who live here in the foothills of the Misty Mountains. A few dark shapes can be seen here and there, shadows from the copses of trees that dot the landscape. And inside those shadows are darker shapes, harder to see, of animals resting in the shade\'s protection.

Minnar rides well back in the host his, spear hanging from his saddle. He is in his armor which glints in the afternoon sun

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Siolfaliht has picked a nimble path amongst the other riders, bringing Aelspeth to ride beside her husband as the hunting party moves further with the aging morn. The slender woman\'s features are set, and her attention seems given to the terrain that flows by to either side, though her gaze oft rests ahead, touching upon what serves as a horizon. As one with her mare, their journey is effortless, leaving the lady the focus to remain aware and alert.

Dolwyr rides right behind Lord Colinor, his eyes scrutinizing the plain, noticing now and then some eerie silhouettes moving around... with his right hand, he holds firmly on his staff, and with his left hand, he maintains a strong hold on his reins, pulling from time to time on the hackamore, to keep control over his gray horse, excited by the sight and smell rising over the field...

[Blegn(#13946)] Grazing around the slope of the misty mountain, the mighty warg Blegn, one of the larger wargs of the group, begins his decent of the slope, watching along the various paths as he moves. His ears listening closely for any signs of movement, a hopeful dinner perhaps. His movements are far from graceful, as his hind legs nearly trip his front legs as he walks. His large high shoulders steping over the rocks of the path as he makes as he seems to care not how much sound he makes, growling as he sniffs the air every five feet he moves.

[Maeghan(#29549)] Riding near Rorgan is the firey haired healess, the one called Maeghan. She sits astride a tall bronze warhorse. She says not a word, instead looking about her intently.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar rides forward next to Minnar and a little behind Dolwyr.

Rorgan rides in the midst of the Silver Guard who have accompanied him on the hunt in their full strength of just over a score of men. The two Minas Tirith Guardsmen set to watch the tailor for his actions in the camp ride there as well, and Rorgan pulls this knot of men closer to Colinor\'s position among the hunting riders, calling out, \"Can your scouts make out the trail left by the raiders, Lord Colinor?\"

[Mardamir(#27388)] Apart from the group of riders travels together a small group of men on foot through the waving grass. Under the shadow of the mountains they moves swiftly, accompanied by several large hounds. Their progress is steady, but they halt now and then, casting their eyes to the ground beneath their feet.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Huan howls and about him the lesser hounds bay anxiously, as if they have found something.

[Spot(#23437)] A few more pairs of lupine ears poke above the grass, perked up by the sound and smell of approaching horses. One animal stands abruptly, stretching on long forlegs. A white circle rings his eye, bright it is, the sunlight shining off of it. He raises his snout and lets out a long howling call. More howls break the air, and suddenly, a mass of animals breaks out of the plain, becomes visible, eyeing the riders. And before long, one begins to run, then a second, until a great number of these beasts are racing towards the assembeled riders, thoughts of lunch and blood heavy in their minds.

[Orrius(#21690)]

As the sun beats down on the grassy ground, the wargs happily in the shade seem to be content for the moment. One in particular seems to be at his attention, however, as though he feels he should be on his toes or something. He looks about the area for a bit, but doesn\'t seem to find anything out of the ordinary. He turns back and sits down, leaning over to stratch himself with his back left leg.

\"Wargs!\" exclaims Rorgan, strange grin beginning to form on his features as he studies each of the beasts as it appears, calling out to Colinor, \"Let\'s get our revenge today, friend!\"

Minnar looks starled at the sudden sound of howls and looks around quickly. He gasps as he sees the huge beasts break from their hiding places and thunder toward the gathered host.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar quickly tightens his grip on his spear at the call of wargs and scans the uncomming group.

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar shifts forward on Deorcsceadu and rides up to the flank of Colinor again looking out at the incoming wargs.

Minnar snaps his spear up to a defenive postion and falls in behind Colinor. He adjust his helmet and armor, glaring at the oncoming wargs.

[Blegn(#13946)] Glancing up, a low growl is heard from the form of Blegn. His ears perk up, and his nostrils take a large inhale of the stale air, stale with the scent of humans. He makes a howl loud enough to alert the wargs around him, and his teeth stand at bear, before his large form charges at the humans. The warg is stupid, but not stupid enough to try and fight at range. This particular warg seems to be the warg of a great warrior, as he wears armor to guard from head attacks. His charge in increased as he looks for a first victim.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Instinctively, the healess drops back, lending a sharper command to the mare that would fly forward rather than in the opposite direction. Aelspeth\'s staff comes to her hands, drawn from its strapping to her saddle, all without a conscious thought. Her face is masked with tension, and a coiled readiness lies upon her, but her hands are better geared to healing than to dealing blows in the conflict that approaches.. its front a black tide bearing across the plain, midnight staining the land at morning.

[Mardamir(#27388)] The long howling cry brings the men on foot to an abrupt halt as they search the grassy slopes for the beast that makes the chilling sound. Keen grey eyes catch the movement of the wargs and they too raise cries of warning to the mounted riders as more than one of the wargs bounds toward them. Swords are drawn and Mardamir, his expression grim, brings out his own with a swift motion of his long arm, to race with his companions toward the beasts they have all come to hunt.

Raising his freshly-drawn sword on high, Rorgan forms the men of the Silver Guard into ranks, their spears held at the ready as he prepares to give them the order that will send them crashing into the onrushing wargs at full charge. He glances over his shoulder, fully expecting more of the creatures to materialize behind them as quickly as those to the fore have, and still hoping, still searching the onrushing forms for the glint of silver that would mark the one described to him as long ago and as far away as Caldur.

Dolwyr quickly controls his neighing horse by a short but strong pull on the reins from his left hand. He takes a look at the men assembled, and then directs his eyes to the charging beasts. He turns to Minnar, and says \"Hope we will meet after the battle, friend\" before making his horse make a few steps sideways toward Aelspeth \"We shall not get through this alone, milady. I\'ll help as much as I can...\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] Among the wolves a great howl as if spawned from a devil\'s heart awakens from the slavering throat of a great wolf. Upon his neck there is a silver collar. He is great and his wolf-thains gather about him like flies.

Minnar calls out to Dolwyr almost cheerfuly \"We shall friend, have no doubt abound that!

[Spot(#23437)]

The creaures are swift, by no means slow beasts, and as they rush towards the horsemen, their speed is accelerated by thoughts of battle, blood, and food. Soon enough, the ones at the fore of the attack are clashing with the human force, furry shoulders meeting armor, claws and teath against blades. A recognizable warg, for that is what they are, the young one with the white circle around his eye, is perhaps the most suicidal, and the first to attack, baring his teeth as he leaps up at the horseman they call Colinor...

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Were she not of Rohirric blood, it is a questionable thing as to whether or not Aelspeth\'s gentle hands would keep her pracing mount in place. But she is, and Siolfaliht does her bidding, though the mare makes not attempt to hide her displeasure at being left to the rear of the host. There is a slight rise in the land not ten paces to her right, and the healess pauses to reply to Dolwyr before heading in that direction. \"Your help will be more than sufficient, mi\'lord, and the hands of our companions skilled enough to silence forever this evil horde.\" The first meeting of men and beast occurs as she finds a place atop the rise.. overlooking well the field of battle.

Minnar looks back in time to see the warg leap for Colinor. The cheer dies from his face as he curses softly and flings his horse in to action as he heads toward Colinor

Not doing a good job suppressing a shudder at this newest howl, the source does draw Rorgan\'s eyes to that which he seeks, \"There! The wolf with the silver collar!\" The cry of triumph is as instructions to his own men, who begin to move toward that mass of wargs, picking up speed as they ride, spears lowered, \"That one is MINE!\" He roars and points the long blade of his sword directly at the great warg with the silver collar. \"For Isilrim!\" he urges his horse forward, both he and the animal growing impatient with the slower pace of the Silver Guards\' steeds, but holding their place in the formation nonetheless.

From Werrebrand, bearing Colinor, White-eye rushes Colinor, and the young heir-apparent to Forensvale meets the beast head on with a head-bowed charge upon his mighty gray steed. Werrebrand is not a beast who is without defenses himself, and the two move as one, Rohirric blood, the bond which these two share, highlighted now, for they are not two at this moment...they are one. A battlecry erupts from his lips, though he\'d be hard pressed, after the battle, to ever remember unleashing it, as he lashes levels his spear for the vicious hellspawn...

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar watches as Minnar rides quickly past hit heading to Colinor, glancing over he sees the warg leaping for him, quickly turning his horse he follows Minnar closly in the assisting of Colinor.

[Indilzar(#10108)] But no fear does the wolf Gruthroth have and as Rorgan comes the great hound Huan follows him. Maybe the devil\'s heart wakes in the wolf, but he draws back as the lesser wolves about him run toward the Gondorians.

Colinor attacks Spot with his Spear, but he misses by a hair.

Minnar swings his spear around and urges his horse even close to Colinor. He sees the rider attack the leaping warg and miss. With a shout he also attacks Spot thrusting his spear toward it\'s ribs

Minnar attacks Spot with his Spear, but he misses by a handspan.

Mardamir and his companions are hard pressed to keep with Huan and the other hounds that bound effortlessly past to join the mounted riders that now clash with the warg pack. The distance still great between them, Mardamir and his men slow to slip round the great bows they carry at their backs, nocking arrows to them with swift ease and setting their iron tips upon the tough hides of the wargs. A volley of green fletched arrows are released upon great wolves that come just behind the leaders, and the hiss of their brief flight sounds in the air.

[Indilzar(#10108)] A great bay lets up among the rocks as the Hound Huan and his followers meet the van of Gruthroth, and great are their cries for they echo among the stones to fury.

The Silver Guard lock with the onrusing Wargs, curses mingling with growls and shrieks on all sides, but Rorgan\'s eyes are locked upon one creature, the great warg Gruthroth, and to him the sometimes tailor seeks to go.

[Spot(#23437)] The spot-eyed warg changes the direction of his leap as first Colinor\'s, then Minnar\'s spears come at him, for he is not a stupid beast. Instead of attacking, he lands with a roll on his shoulder at the feet of their horses. He also manages to avoid the attacks of the horses by quickly drawing back. While other animals move around him, he pauses and stares up at the horsed men for a moment before making another attack, snarling as he leaps up at Colinor\'s leg...

From Deorcsceadu, bearing Tivadar, Tivadar rides getting closer to Colinor attacking the warg with his spear as he rides by.

Spot attacks Colinor ferociously!

Spot badly wounds him!

Colinor leads with his spear, missing the warg, which elicits a curse from the rider. The attack had been true, but the beast--certainly more intelligent than a mere wolf--had dodged it. And just at that moment, the bloody warg leaps at him! Colinor, for his part, is not nearly as fast as the beast, and takes claws to the leg, which draw blood aplenty. He growls in pain, his normally fair face contorted into an unamused half-snarl, teeth gritting as he holds back curses which would not do his bride\'s ears the justice they are worth, and he sweeps his spear to the left...

Colinor attacks Spot with his Spear, but he misses by a handspan.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] There is little enough that she might do, at least for now. Aelspeth retains her position on the high ground, calming her mare as eyes of shadowed violet search the twisted clustered of man and beast for signs of those who have been wounded.

Minnar looks suprised as the Warg cleverly rolls to dodge the attacks of the men and then manages to escape from the hooves of their horses. He pulls his horse back in time to avoid the attack of a second warg before despatching it with a strong blow from his spear. Then turning back to Spot she lunges at him swinging her spear.

[Mardamir(#27388)] The mass of men, warg and hound is too tangled for Mardamir and his men to send out another flight of arrows upon the enemy beasts with any sure success. Greatbows are cast into the grass, hopefully to be reclaimed by their owners, and swords are drawn from their sheathes to glint in the day that brightens upon the plain. Into the fray the men on foot take themselves, wordless cries of battle issuing from their lips in brave challenge.

[Spot(#23437)]

Though his attack works, the warg with the spotted eye perhaps spends too much time gloating over the sight of blood on Colinor\'s leg than he really should. Such things happen with the young and proud. For as he stands there, before the sense to move enters his head, two spears come at him at once, one from Colinor, the other from Minnar, and both connect... The first glances off the warg\'s shoulder sending him into movement, and the other scrapes his side. The wounds only anger him, and he attacks once more, this time his teeth bared as he leaps at Minnar...

[Indilzar(#10108)] At last Huan and his hounds burst through and now the warg-leader joins the fray, taking a hound by the neck and snapping it in a single bite.

The men of the Silver Guard faire probably little better than they did the day the Drihten of Forensvale fell, but somehow it seems the odds on that front remain even enough, and Rorgan finally breaks through with a small knot of men following him as he makes his way toward the warg-leader Gruthroth.

Minnar pulls his horse back so sharply that she rears back. This is enhough to prevent Minnar from being bit, but the claws of the warg dig into the belly and leg of the horse causing her to whinny and thrash in pain. Minnar snarles at Spot as he calms his horse down \"You\'ll die for that!\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] The warg Gruthroth charges forward with his wolves as the battle now widens. Savage teeth and slavering mouths searching for flesh to devour.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] The inevitable ever must take place.. and where she has staked her own ground to the right side of the engagement, Aelspeth receives the first trickle of the wounded. Only two or three, for the rest of the company are duly engaged in further bloodshed. The healess has dismounted, dragging her pack along with her and opening it along the way. The first young Rohirrim is beyond her mercies though, his spirit has passed clean away through the shredded tatters of his chest. There are no tears from the woman.. there is only a grimness of heart that keeps her ready, and a shadow which cascades down to dim the beauty of her face. Always there will be another to tend, and she moves to the next less-hopeless case, forgetting the horror about her in the process.

And Rorgan is there to meet that charging beast, a grim smile pasted across his lips as they close... and meet, the tailor\'s bright blade flashing downward toward the snout that holds that slavering mouth.

You attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Gruthroth dodges your attack.

Colinor takes the initiative, taking advantage of the Warg\'s divided attention, he grits his teeth and leaps from Werrebrand\'s saddle, linging down at the side of the great beast with every iota of his might...

[Indilzar(#10108)] Gruthroth turns and with a wild snap launches himself at Rorgan, the man\'s blade going wide from the wolf. His white fangs look for his outstretched arm.

[Melethron(#29496)] Through the light of day comes the sight of a man and steed charging headlong towards the fray at full gallop, towards the sound of fighting, the cry of beast, the ringing of steel, the shouts of people, forward he charges.

Passing finally through the back lines of the gathered Rohir and Gondorians, Melethron continues to charge forward, his sword appearing in hand as if by magic, yet it is with some regret that the Swan-Knight slows his pace to scan the field for a moment before his eyes are drawn to a familiar figure, Rorgan, and with a nod he is moving again, spurs sending his night hued stallion forward once more.

Gruthroth attacks Rorgan with a furious snarl, fangs and claws flashing!

..and you block her attack with your shield!

Rorgan swings his shield around to meet the jaws snapping for his other arm, and as he twists in the saddle, so does Ardanne react to the pressure on his side, swinging around and stamping his hooves toward the paws of the animal as Rorgan again lets the bright blade fall toward the head of Gruthroth.

You attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Gruthroth dodges your attack.

[Spot(#23437)]

The spot-eyed warg perhaps has the luck, or more likely, the speed of youth, for he leaps out of the way of Colinor\'s blow just quickly enough that the spear misses his vital organs. Instead, the spear his his flank, causing him to howl fericiously -- and painfully -- as he turns back on his attacker with claws and fangs alike even as the blood begins to seep from his wound.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Gruthroth turns and again dashes about the blade of the hunter and the teeth of the hounds. He now leaps in the air making great height for the neck of Rorgan.

Gruthroth attacks Rorgan with a furious snarl, fangs and claws flashing!

..and she hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 19 hp\'s by Gruthroth\'s attack...

..you have 61 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Mardamir(#27388)] On the edge of the battle, Mardamir and another come upon one of the lesser wargs, attacking it with fierce strokes of their swords. Their efforts are hardgoing, producing but small wounds and cuts upon the thickly furred and muscled hide of the beast that snaps its jaws and slashes at them with a wide sweep of its large clawed paws. \"Ware!\", cries Mardamir in warning to his companion, though too late. The claws rake high and deep across the man\'s throat and chest, and he slumps to the ground without a final breath.

Minnar smiles grimly as Colinor\'s spear goes home in the wargs side. Unfortantly Minnars next blow, aimed for the beasts neck goes wide. With a curse he swings his horse around in an attempt to get another blow

[Colinor(#29577)] Colinor has managed, somehow, to find his feet, though his bad leg--injured by the warg\'s previous attack--gives way, and he is forced to drop to one knee, spinning the spear over in hsi hands to parry once with the butt of the weapon. The warg is strong...very strong, and the blow sends Colinor to his side, and it is all he can do to come to his feet again. He ignores the burning pain of his leg, ignores the blood which he is losing, to fight on, grim determination in his features as he combats the fiendish thing. \"Worldess he is, leading by example, though bravery, perhaps more than martial skill, is the example he best gives. He waits for an opening..any opening...before linging forward again, gleaming blade coated with blood seeking the heart of the beast..

[Melethron(#29496)] With a smooth motion of one long practiced at the arts of horsemanship, the Knight draws to a near halt, the beast below him moving with unconscious signals from the rider to draw away from any attack that might be launched at the pair, yet even as his legs steer the steed Melethron\'s sword arm leaps forth, lashing out at the silver collared warg even as he yells something to his friend, \"I told you I would see you married to Maeghan,\" his words both promise and jest.

Melethron attacks Gruthroth with his Longsword and mildly wounds her!

The great leap of the beast easily removes Rorgan from the saddle, knocking him to the ground even as the warg\'s teeth sink into the man\'s left shoulder, piercing the mail under his shirt as Rorgan lands flat upon his back, shout of pain cut short by the expellation of the breath in his lungs. His sword, though, remains in his hand, and he wrythes on the ground, twisting away from the warg.

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

You forego your chance to attack.

[Indilzar(#10108)] The foul breath of the Great Hound Gruthroth falls over Rorgan in his doom but on a sudden Melethron\'s strike makes the warg yelp. He turns on a sudden anger and then leaps at Melethron, jaw snapping!

Gruthroth attacks Melethron with a furious snarl, fangs and claws flashing!

Gruthroth badly wounds him!

[Spot(#23437)]

Two spears coming at him at once frighten the spot-eyed beast, and he bounds away from the lunging weapons, panting a few feet away from both of his attackers. Yet he does not make to attack either of them, only growling, snarling, and staring for a moment.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Now Huan comes dashing up and engages Gruthroth with a howl dislodging him momentarily from the battle.

The moment\'s distraction is enough for Rorgan to regain his feet and something resembling his wits, and as the beast leaps at the knight, Rorgan\'s own blade reaches out in a feeble attempt to hamstring it. Though this blow falls short, it is less than two breaths later when Rorgan\'s sword is again ready to strike the beast, and he moves into position in that moment that the Warg\'s mind is occupied by the hound, striking at the flank of Gruthroth.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Most of the fallen in this nightmare battle are too badly injured to move in her direction.. or have already passed beyond her skill in aiding. Aelspeth finds herself with few to tend, her bloodied hands having dealt with less than seven men. It is then, only then, that the healess lifts her gaze to the fray, momentarily left alone by the whirling currents of the conflict. Her eyes seek one figure, darting with open worry this way and that.. until they find him, standing. The slim woman\'s relief is almost palpable, should any glance her way.

You attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Your attack against Gruthroth severely wounds her!

Minnar presses his advantige and urges his horse forward, intent on ridding the world of this monster. He brings the spear down towards Spots head, the point glinting wickedly

[Indilzar(#10108)] The warg turns as a wide gash is opened up on its side. Then in a devil\'s fury he leaps now on this new foe... far from any help or hope.

Gruthroth attacks Rorgan with a furious snarl, fangs and claws flashing!

..and she hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 15 hp\'s by Gruthroth\'s attack...

..you have 46 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Melethron(#29496)] A flash of grey so fast the rider cannot steer clear of the blow sends both Melethron and his stallion to the ground, the impact of the warg\'s flying body tumbling the Knight from his saddle even as the horse falls.

Adrenaline and pride are all the keep the man moving, even though the fall knocked the wind from his and the feeling of warm blood, his blood, comes from his shoulder, yet in the moment when his doom seems apparent, the collared warg retreats under the attack of Huan and Rorgan.

Rising to his feet, shakily, the Knight takes a split second to clear his mind before setting his body into motion once more, albeit slower that the first, still the sword arm moves, blade glittering in the light of the sun as it streaks for the body of the gray hued beast.

Melethron attacks Gruthroth with his Longsword and severely wounds her!

[Indilzar(#10108)] Now the wolf is hit again and leaps as the sword catches it in the leg. It howls horribly and Huan now siezes the wolf by the throat and holds it to the ground.

[Mardamir(#27388)] The warg Maradmir battles forces him back as it steps over the slaughtered figure of his companion. Desperate strokes from his sword keep the creature at bay until he makes a sudden leap forward, trying to bring himself within the embrace of the great wolf. The point of Mardamir\'s sword is aimed for the place where the heart lies, if a heart the thing has, and he drives it hard forward and back swift in one clean motion that warms and reddens his blade. Thinking the mark found and death dealt to it, Mardamir escapes a final swipe of the warg\'s claws and presses on to join the others.

[Colinor(#29577)] Aye, Colinor is standing, and doing a darned fine job of ignoring the fairly serious wound to his leg. There will be time for noticing one\'s own wounds when the wargs are dead. Or, perhaps, there shall be time enough to be buried then. Whatever the case, Colinor is committed. He makes a sign to Minnar to circle around to the other side of the beast. Stay divided, sense tells him. Box him in. Takign heed of his thoughts, it seems, two more riders find the heir-apparent to Forensvale, they still on their mounts. It seems as if spot has one way to go, and that is through Colinor..and his set spear. That is...if Minnar does indeed circle around to the other side of the beast.

The old campaigner allows the Warg to have a bit of his leg, but it is a ruse, and though those sharp teeth close mightily against the already-lame appendage with a crushing blow, the sword of Rorgan was poised to drive itself into the brain of Gruthroth with a mighty thrust, fueled even by the pain of the jaws closing about his own leg.

You attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Your attack against Gruthroth terribly wounds her!

[Indilzar(#10108)] Gruthroth howls in terror and tries to shake the grip of Huan, but he cannot. At this time, Indilzar comes riding up to see how his hound fares and calls to Rorgan, \"Now!\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] The warg cries and then slowly and strangely, from its mouth comes the speech of Men strangled, \"Strike son of Yerl, and let the curse of my race fall upon you.\"

[Spot(#23437)]

Spot does not appreciate being caged in, and he bares his fangs in a deep snarl. Teeth clench upon the spear\'s handle as it is lunges past his quickly-turned head, twisting with all the strength of his jaws to hold on or to break it.

ARB: Gruthroth has \"passed\" on her turn to attack.

Minnar spins his horse around as he sees Colinor signal. Once one the other side of the warg he makes sure that Colinor is ready for another attack

\"And what curse would that be?\" Rorgan asks almost as an aside, for as the words come, mingled with the pain that has driven the tailor to one knee, so does the blade of Rorgan reach out under the chin of the mighty beast and draw itself in a line across the beast\'s throat.

You recklessly attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Your attack against Gruthroth moderately wounds her!

[Melethron(#29496)] With death in his eyes, blood on his shoulder, Melethron raises his sword as if to strike the beast down, yet in that moment the battle lust clears within his mind enough to see the wounds of the beast are enough so that another blow will kill it. Rasing his head, with a smile on his lips, however forced that might be, Melethron says, \"Finish this.\"

Tivadar rides in from the north his leg hurt bad and a cut across his arm he stops a good distance from the main battle and speaks in a load clear voice, \"Be there any healers here? we are in desperate need of them near the camp.\"

Minnar curses loudly as the wargs teeth bite deeply into the shaft of his spear. Droping the reins of his horse he puts both hands on the spear in anattemp to yank it out of Spot\'s mouth. At this moment another warg sees its chance and lunges at Minnar knocking him from his saddle.

ARB: Gruthroth has \"passed\" on her turn to attack.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Gruthroth snarls, \"Is that all you have BIG BAD Human?\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Aye.. there is one healer here, and she is caught within the battle, kneeling at its edge and tending those wounded that crawl in her direction. Aelspeth has risen at times, darting forward to drag the bleeding out and lay them on the hillock she has chosen to claim for her own. No fell beast has dared its circle, perhaps held back by the power of the Lady to which all healers of this land lay claim. She does not hear the uplifted cries for those her craft.. for the sounds of conflict steal Tivadar\'s voice clear away.

[Indilzar(#10108)] Huan whimpers with lack of patience.

[Colinor(#29577)] Colinor\'s senses come together with an almost audible snap in his mind, and time seems to slow as the warg turns its back upon him. Nary a second of hesitation does he have, before he lunges at the beast, spear in both hands, charging forward to bury the weapon deep in its side. A heart shot, this, for it draws blood in prodigious amounts...

[Galdorim(#22020)] Riding from the south is Galdorim. His shield arm no longer bear his shield and is blood soaked, but he rides forth with his axe in hand. He surveys the area as others come fromt he south with the tall Lieutenant.

[Melethron(#29496)] As the blow of his friend fails to kill the beast, Melethron rolls his eyes impatiently, the wound on his shoulder causeing him to loose grip upon the temper that is something bred into the line of his family, yet still he waits taking but a moment to assess the rest of the field and the status of the men.

Tivadar glances around the battle field watching the battle he sees a women kneeling and tending to the wounded quickly he rides up next to her and speaks in some pain as more blood trickles down his leg and the cut on his arm begins bleeding a bit more fierce, \"M\'lady you are needed desperatly near the camp.\"

[Brown_Bear(#14354)] Following closely behind Galdorim is a strange sight, that of a massive bear. Its feet beat the terrain as it keeps pase with his mount.

[Spot(#23437)]

The spot-eyed beast turns suddenly as the spear enters his side, opening his mouth for the attack, but only blood comes out... He falls slowly to his side, twitching, grunting, until he finally lies still and very dead. Slick blood pools around him, and a warg nearby ceases his attack momentarily to howl.

With a growl of his own, Rorgan pushes himself back to both feet, eyeing the beast that has spoken in his own language, \"It\'s a shame your entire race is such a waste, for you, indeed were a mighty warrior once, Grufaroth. Ah, indeed,\" the tailor smiles, \"I know thy name, and the vengeance of Isilrim is upon you, foul creature!\" The exclamation mark of the last sentence is a thrust of Rorgan\'s blade into the body of the warg, all his weight behind it as he strives to pierce that blackest of hearts that seems to refuse to quit beating.

You recklessly attack Gruthroth with your Longsword...

[Combat(#13388)->Rorgan]

Your attack against Gruthroth badly wounds her!

Gruthroth growls at Rorgan and trying to break the grip of Huan he snaps at him.

Gruthroth attacks Rorgan with a furious snarl, fangs and claws flashing!

..and she hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 21 hp\'s by Gruthroth\'s attack...

..you have 25 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Siolfaliht startles, even if Aelspeth does not, the healess enrapt for a moment in the binding of a noble warrior\'s leg. A man of Gondor, whose eyes roll up in unconsciousness as she finishes the knot, deft fingers lifting as she whirls to tip her chin up and face Tivadar. \"As am I here.. should I split myself in twain, mi\'lord?\" Her eyes close then, and she pushes back escaped hair from off her face, shaking her head. \"Forgive me.. the fallen are everywhere and I cannot tend them all.\" But a moment, but a breath, and the healess glances round, \"Can the need there be greater than that here?\"

[Melethron(#29496)] As the beast strikes, breaking free of the grip the wolf-hound has placed upon him, Melethron moves, his motions smooth as the sword lashes out for the beast neck, nothing fancy just a solid slash of the blade.

Gruthroth collapses to the ground, defeated by Melethron!

[Indilzar(#10108)] It is finally the wheeling blow of the knight that gives the hound its long doomed death. It crumbles into a ghastly and quite dreadful ball of fur.

Rorgan\'s overconfidence is his undoing, and the giant jaws snap down upon him once again, shredding the thigh of the man as he falls backwards, trying to twist away from the warg, once again, the tailor lands upon his back. This time he does not even attempt to rise, but remains on the ground merely staring at the sky.

Tivadar looks at the women smiles the best he can in the battle, sighs and speaks more clearly, \"Yes m\'lady the need is a bit more, one of are men has fallen to a warg in the south and he needs aid as soon as it can be recieved.\"

[Brown_Bear(#14354)] With a burst of speed, the bear overtakes the horse and passes it, as one beast falls. She makes her way quickly towards the depth of the action, teeth bared. She pants as she reaches the scene by her nostrils flare and her eyes dance with excitiment.

[Melethron(#29496)] Wiping clean his blade, Melethron moves over to Rorgan, kneeling beside him, \"Well...\" he says, \"It\'s done...,\" then his hand is offered the man, \"Come, let us see you to a healer... or at least upon your feet once more.\"

Minnar staggers to his feet at Colinor\'s spear hits home and the beast takes it\'s last breath. He pulls his spear out from under it and moves over to Colinor to help him

Finally does Rorgan push himself into a sitting position, and though his words are tinged with the agony of the movement, he orders, \"That beast is to be skinned, and the head preserved with it. *This* is the reason that brought me here, and without this I shall not leave the field satisfied.\"

[Indilzar(#10108)] Huan comes to Rorgan and lays his head in the lap of Rorgan.

[Colinor(#29577)] Colinor has no time to worry about his own wounds, however. He has seen Rorgan fall, and makes his way over to the man, stopping to reach out a hand to the fellow, and when he is given it, promptly lifting him up over a shoulder. A strong man is Colinor, as are many who have lived a life in the saddle. \"To the healers with you,\" he says, looking about for Werrebrand.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Great is her indrawn breath, though Aelspeth gives a short nod to Tivadar this time.. the gesture curt from situation rather than intent. \"Then shall I come, though will bear the rue of those I might have here aided who do not return to the camp afterwards.\" An extended hand draws the skittish mare to her side, and the woman takes but a moment to lace her supplies into place and mount up. \"See that these injured are gathered and returned as well when we return, for you are coming with me. Mi\'lord..\" there is a man nearby, bloodied with gore that is not his own. \"Ware you these until others come.\" With that, her weights shifts and Siolfaliht pivots in place as her mistress seeks again the form of one. \"Be you well, my husband.\" And after one last moment in which her gaze rests upon Colinor, she gives her mount free reign and gallops off to the south.

[Spot(#23437)]

Many wargs have died this day, and not a few humans as well, but the beasts took the heavier blow. Those remaining, seeing how their leaders have been cut down, begin to hesitate, and some even now turn and scurry off.

Minnar finds his horse and leads her over to Colinor and Rorgen to see if they need any help.

Galdorim rides behind the mighty bear. He makes his way toward the other evil warg with his blood stained axe in hand. He looks over at his falled friend and smiles as he sees that he is well taken care of. He then moves to help the men and women against the last beasts.

[Brown_Bear(#14354)] With her quickened pace, the massive bear does not hesitate and makes a dash for a warg who does not run. She puts all of her weight and power behind her run as she reaches the battle ground and cuts the beast off from retreat.

The voice of the tailor is at first raised in a shout of pain as he is shouldered, but then his words come, \" By Helm, lad, be careful where ya put your hands!\" Rorgan shakes his head and then mutters something more, but quietly this time, for the ears of the heir of the Drihten, \" Thank you.\"

[Brown_Bear(#14354)] With a flash, the massive bear slams its body into it\'s victim becoming a tumbling ball of fur, claws and teeth. The bear tears into the creature with unencombered venom.

[Spot(#23437)]

As their numbers are only further reduced, the wargs begin to turn and run. Only the most stupid and stubborn of their numbers remain, and the majority of those even are already dead.

Colinor is a stubborn man in many ways, for he is of Rohirric blood, and at the moment, he refuses to acknowledge his own wound. As Minnar approaches. and he sees that the man is unharmed, a pale smile touches his face, relief evident there. \"Thank you for fighting at my side, my friend. You quite possibly saved my life...\" And with that, he casts eyes about for Werrebrand, who trots up just on cue. \"And you are quite welcome,\" he says, lifting the tailor up and placing him in the saddle before he follows. \"Now, for once, put thine ego away and hold on tight,\" he says, joking perhaps to assuage any worry he may have over the man\'s condition. And, that said, he pulls up the reins and gallops off to the south, seeking the healers..

Galdorim smiles as he sees the bear dispatch the last of the wargs he the rides to where Rorgan lies. He slips from his mount and kneels next to his friend. \"You did it, my friend. You helped slay the quest beast!\" He looks Rorgan over to see how badly he is hurt. His deep voice barks an order. \"Someone get a healer over here!\"

With a grimace, Rorgan replies, \"I can hold on well enough. Just get this over with. And make sure I get what\'s mine!\"

Minnar smiles, pleased at Colinor\'s words. He seems to have gotten away with only cuts and bruses. Swinging up on his horse he follows after Colinor and Rorgsn

[Brown_Bear(#14354)] After a suprisingly short tussle with the massive bear, the warg finds itself in the company with man of its mates as the bear tears the throat out of the beast with her sharp teeth. She raises her head, flesh hangs from her mouth and blood drips to the ground. She heads over towards Rorgan and upon reaching him she drops the driping flesh at his feet.

Colinor throws words over his shoulder at the remaining men. \"Riders! You be certain that Rorgan\'s men get the collar, the head...everything from the leader! By my honor!\"

Tivadar rides hard from the south and to Rorgan, stoping next to the man blood still trickles down Tivadars leg as he speaks to him, \"An request from the Healess Sir Rorgan, take all wounded to the healers tent as soon as possible.\" Then tivadar turns his horse to the south but dosn\'t ride yet waiting for a response.

[Mardamir(#27388)] Having been drawn a distance away from the others, Mardamir still battles against one of the wargs that still lingers upon the plain. The broadside of his sword slaps against the haunch of the beast, sending it chasing after its fellows with a yelp. Exhaustion immediately sets in and Maradmir drops into the tall grass heaving for breath and with no will or wish to move from the spot.

[Melethron(#29496)] After seeing to his friend and seeing others taking care of him, Melethron rises once more, his sword still in hand searching for a place where he might fall into the fray once more. It is then that his eyes fall upon a scene of confusion, a giant bear attacking one of the last remaining daemon dogs, curious indeed is he and forward does he begin to move, a walk at first, then a trot which flows into a run.

Yet he doesn\'t go very far before the warg lies dead and the bear has turned in the direction of Rorgan. Confused by this, Melethron raises his blade to keep the beast at bay, \"Halt..\" he commands of the beast.

As Rorgan is placed across the back of Collinor\'s horse, he lifts a hand to his friend, \"Galdorim, just see to it that the others are taken care of. And get these bloody guards away from me.\" Indeed the two Minas Tirith Guardsmen have rejoined the tailor now, and he smiles thinly toward the man, \"You\'ve an investigation to conduct, Galdorim.\"

Brown_Bear looks up at Melethron, her eyes wide with what appears to be amusement. She shakes her head slightly at the man and sits on her haunches, waiting to see what Melethron intends to do.

And the horse of Colinor carries the tailor to the south, back toward the camp and the waiting healers.

You head back to the Plains.

Long Plain

The grassy plains continue in all directions. Here upon a grassy knoll you feel safe as you would be able to see anyone coming from aways away.

Contents:

A Camp of Men

Obvious exits:

South leads to Long Plain.

North leads to Along the Slopes of the Misty Mountains.

East leads to Long Plain.

You pass between the guards and enter the campsite.

A Camp of Men(#15235Qae)

Many tents are gathered here, many makes and shapes and sizes, but long before one draws near to the tents, one must pass a ring of well-spaced and well-armed sentries. A picket if you will, surrounding the grazing horses and conglomeration of tents.

Near enough and the great variety of standards can be recognized -- standards for just about every clan and drihten of Rohan and a good representation of Gondorian flags as well.

Untold numbers of men could inhabit such a camp, and come running at the first sign of trouble from one of the pickets.

Contents:

Healer\'s Tent

Grey Tent(#22913)

You leave the protection of the campsite.

You enter the Healer\'s Tent

Healer\'s Tent

The atmosphere within the light walled tent is surprisingly cozy. Neatly made cots smothered in blankets and bedding line one wall with enough space in between to offer easy access to their occupants. A small, sturdy looking table with a few camp chairs surrounding it is against the other, with a large chest to one side. Strewn across the table, in an oddly neat display of disarray are bandages of many sizes, and several healing concoctions in various states of preparation. A small fire crackles soothingly in the cleared center of the floor, a pot of water aboil constantly over it. To the rear of the structure, a hanging of blankets sections off a small room behind with some privacy, and overall, the tang of herbs is in the air.

leads Outside

Contents:

Tivadar sighs and nods to the healess remembering his last incounter with wargs and never went to a healess, but instead of resisting he walks to the cot she pointed to the blood on the self made rag that he wraped around his arm is obvious and blood trickles thick down his right leg.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Poor Tivadar.. he is in the hands of a Rohirric healer, a place few men of that land ever relish the thought of being. But Aelspeth is surprisingly gentle as she unbinds the man\'s injuries and examines them with the deft intensity of a master. Her lips purse, and she pushes him back upon the pillow before moving to gather up several things.

Colinor enters the tent, followed by two riders who have followed him here to see him safely. Rorgan is unconscious, and thrown over a shoulder. However Colinor ignores the horrid-looking wound to his leg is anyone\'s guess, but he speaks of it not as he sets the tailor down upon a cot and looks to Aelspeth. \"My love...Rorgan needs help. He was wounded badly in the fight.\"

Tivadar lays back as the lady pushes him, looking over as Colinor enters he gives the best smile he can and a nod, \"Hail sir, how did the battle in the north go? I was only there giving messages and didn\'t have time to scan the whole field.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Ah.. too busy is she, but Aelspeth looks up from where she has come to kneel beside Tivadar\'s bed. So focused is she that little can scatter her composure, not even the seeping mess that is her husband\'s leg. \"Over there, love. Now.. set him down. Maegwyn..\" her eyes dart about the tent until they locate the named apprentice. \"Heat more water.. bring me extra bandages, and lead these two to empty beds.\" A quick gesture encompasses Colinor. \"I shall be there in moments. Get undressed.\" And oddly enough, there\'s not a touch of seduction in that voice for him.. just business. Then back she goes to her task, slathering the wound in her patient\'s leg with a numbing cream, and then following suit to the man\'s shoulder.

Tivadar twitches a little as she touches his wounds, looking over at the unconcious body he shakes his head and speaks to her in a low calm voice, \"M\'lady take care of the more seriously wounded then I, for I have been worse off by myself and will survive till you get around to me.\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] She doesn\'t wait for anything.. trained fingers flying in a pavanne of graceful skill, aided by those with less experience. \"Nay.. I am near finished, and wounds that even seem less may prove worse in the ending. Lay you still, mi\'lord..\" That to Tivadar as she threads a needle and takes to stitching up the gash in his arm.. in and out even stitches that bind muscle to muscle and skin to skin. He will feel little, her medications already having numbed the area. Then down to his thigh, trickier work this.. though she utters no complaint and sets to her task as if treating the king of Rohan. \"There..\" A faint smile for him as she rises, leaving Morrigan to wrap the injuries as she moves to wash her hands and heads.. without looking anywhere else toward Rorgan.

[Maernus(#17520)] \"Will Gabbard live?\" Asks a now stirring Maernus. He stands, moving from the corner of the tent. He looks around the room and pulls his cloak around the front of himself tighter now. He looks towards the entrance and then looks around at the various people in the room.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] It is not the Master Healer who replies to Maernus, it is Maegwyn.. the young woman\'s silvery-blonde hair loosed from her plaits and trailing down her spine. She is a pretty thing, though is laden with stress to the point of breaking. Pausing in her hasty steps, she glances toward a bed near the tent\'s center, nodding solemnly. \"He is dangerously near the edge, mi\'lord.. but I believe my Lady thinks that he will live.\"

The limp form of Rorgan has been placed in a cot, the quick thinking of Colinor placing a tournequette on the man\'s upper left thigh has probably saved his life, but the leg would seem doubtful, from the shards of muscle hanging from it and the exposure of the bone to the air. This will be a long piece of work indeed, for many healers, but graciously, Rorgan has already succombed to unconsciousness and remains still upon the cot. Another wound upon his left shoulder gives a perfect impression of the teeth of the great Warg that finally felled him.

[Galdorim(#22020)] The Healers\' flap opens as Galdorim strides in. His left arm is covered with his own blood, but he does not seem to payin it any heed. He has a Minas Tirith guardsman over his shoulder as he brings him to a cot. He sets him down as gently as he can and then looks over at the wounded. He shakes his head and sighs deeply. His deep voice call out softly. \"How are Gabbard and Rorgan?!\"

[Aelspeth(#20246)] So vicious an injury causes even Aelspeth pause.. she who is supposed to embody the healing body of the Riddermark. The slender woman stops dead in her place, staring.. staring from two feet away before gliding closer to the bed. A stool has been put there and she takes it, quick hands moving with a gentle regard few would believe could be gotten from a healess. Bits of fabric and wargish hair are plucked from Rorgan\'s leg, and she is left with the rent mess of bone and tissue that holds to no particular shape it is so damaged. Not indecision.. no, not at all, just calculation passes through her gaze before she turns and begins her orders. \"Aeslyn, see to those other injured that are brought in and disturb me not save for those night unto death. Maegwyn,\" up lift her eyes, finding the young woman. \"Tend you my lord.. and keep him well enough until my own hands bind fast his leg.\" That is all, she rises herself to quickly gather the supplies that are required, not loosing the tournequette yet.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Into an immense vat of water which has been brought, does Aelspeth drop in a handful of dried deerberry, drawn from a leather envelope in her satchel. It is an odd scent.. tangy and soft, and with infinite patience.. and yet speed, the healer rinses Rorgan\'s vast injury clean, ignoring his shoulder for now. The antiseptic properties of the herb might not be known as such to her, but the results clearly are. Only then.. after precious moments of study, she moves anew, not bothering with anything to numb the pain. In quick succession powders of yarrow and woundwort are opened and sprinkled directly into the ruined mass of muscle and bone. Her hands find the solution of deerberry, then they follow, skilled fingers replacing bone into its original shape, the slim woman refusing to succumb to hopelessness.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Apprentices know their job, two of them loom over Rohan\'s Master Healer, silent sentinels fraught with concern, ready to keep Rorgan still should he rouse into movement. But he doesn\'t.. and Aelspeth works on, bending lover over her patient and shifting around bone to her satisfaction. When it is set into place, then she moves to the tournequette, loosening, but not removing it, restoring a modicum of bloodflow to the ruined limb. Enough to let it live. More yarrow is applied then, to coagulate the leakage before she bends and takes up a needle already threaded by an assistant.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] So meticulous is she that the world might end without her realizing it. Tiny, dainty stitches designed to be placed but once and hold does Aelspeth lay in to the first layer of muscle she eases back together as cushion for those few veins and arteries that remain intact. It must be enough.. she breathes that to herself, perhaps heard, perhaps not as her fingers move with precise skill in the gash. Heads are shaken behind her, those of the craft knowing well when a limb is beyond repair, a fact that seems lost on their Mistress as she applies herself with the blind dedication which is her badge. Painstakingly knitting back ruined tissue, she rebuilds what is left to be rebuilt of Rorgan\'s leg, layer.. upon layer.. eyes narrowed and back cramped.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Small eternities pass until she is finished.. placing the last line of stitches over skin so damaged it can hardly hold them in. But Aelspeth is not finished.. her task has merely begun, and weary of it or not, she persists until it is done. Though much time has passed, the tournequette is once again loosed.. the littlest bit, permitting shredded veins the chance to take to bloodflow once again. Her eyes warily watch for seepage.. and she is ready when it comes, with linen and woundwort, and a salve mixed by her own hand.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Perhaps it aids him now in his healing that Rorgan must have lost vast quantities of his life\'s blood.. for there is less pressure to pulse against tissues that cannot withstand much. In slow increments, Aelspeth patiently works until the tournequette has been removed entirely from Rorgan. Several times she has had to pause, and work frantically to repair unseen damage. But in the end, her needlework holds, and the man is left with a limb that resembles indeed a leg. It is swollen though, grotesquely, and crimson with abuse and ache. Using strips of clean bandage, she gently laves her disinfectant solution upon the entire thigh and further down.. then applies a topical cream in a thick layer before bandaging the injury with her own hands.

And still the tailor known as Rorgan does not stir. The desire to live still shows itself in the strong, steady beats of his heart, and he will most certainly pull through whether or not the leg remains. The heroic effort on the part of the healess will be well-noted by this man\'s intended, though, when she has finished tending the Gondorian wounded and comes to this place in search of Rorgan.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] In such instances, bandaging is important.. the tension needs be carefully balanced between the lax and the tight. Aelspeth\'s singular concentration does not fail once as her deft hands wrap gently.. assuming the proper tension as she smothers the tailor\'s thigh and knee with a swathe of pristine, linen bandages.

There comes a moment then in which she draws a pure breath and looks up to the man\'s face. Grief is in her gaze.. a flicker, a haunted shadow, then is gone.. squelched beneath her will as she renews her efforts to keep him safe, striding about the bed to tend his shoulder.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Already has the man\'s shirt been removed, and the injury that faces the healer here is more a known quantity than the other. There is little hesitation, nor conscious thought necessary.. her hands know their tasks and they tend them. More of the deerberry solution cleanses the injury, and a thick concoction of herbs and base is drawn by her fingers from a squat, brown jar, to be slathered into the slash. The injury is carefully searched.. lest any partical of fell claw or tooth be left within it. And only when she is certain there is not, does the lady move to begin the steady, delicate process of sewing the wound.. layer by layer, until she\'s knitting together the skin.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] Even that is a precise process, for it is still a concern that the injury leaves the least possible trace of scarring. If Rorgan would not care, surely Maeghan would.. though Aelspeth\'s mind moves in a natural path, and does not encompass that thought at the moment. Oddly enough, it is a mixture of dried and powered chamomile, arnica and boneset that she places in a poultice, setting it against the injury as she will upon the leg when she is certain the limb will be saved. A layer or crushed moneywort to aid in intimate closure, and then she finds herself bandaging again.

Now the waiting game begins. Rorgan is, indeed, alive and more hale than his terribly scarred body might imply. Even the eyes of an experienced healer might be taken aback from the sight that awaits under the man\'s shirt -- evidence of torture and previous injuries at least as life-threatening as this are rife on the man\'s torso. Certainly this man has already survived as much many times over, but it will still be hours before he stirs from his current position and days or even weeks before anyone will know for sure whether or not his leg will heal as it is or will simply rot away from within. Certainly the skills of the healer who managed to save such a mangled piece of flesh for even that short a time would not be called into question. Perhaps when the man wakes more will be seen and known.

[Aelspeth(#20246)] This familiar task passes quickly enough.. and it is not long before the healess realizes that her fingers are tying off the last knot and tucking its ends neatly into the folds of linen that shroud Rorgan\'s shoulder. Aelspeth sits there for several long moments.. just staring at her handiwork, seeing none of it as adrenaline begins to ebb in her breast and her bones.

She shivers as she moves then, looking upon the tailor more intently, reaching out with bloodied hand before remembering to wash it.. then check the Gondorian\'s pulse.. to check his breathing. That is all.. all she might do. She rises then, others already cleaning up the mess left from such treatments. Fresh water is drawn.. cool water.. and the sound of droplets comes as she wrings out a cloth and wipes his brow with a gentleness that might.. should fever come into his mind and he wander in dream, be reminiscent of his own love. Quiet words are given.. treatments scheduled. Then even she must move on, to tend the others poised upon their deathbeds.. and to heal her own husband.

�

Hours pass. The sun sets. And still there are those who keep vigil on the tailor. Not the least of these is a very young Silver Guardsman, and suddenly, as things have calmed down just enough that many are retiring for the evening, the young man lets out a small noise, but the joy of the noise can not be disguised, and as one of the apprentice healers looks to the man with a sharp eye, he quietly explains in hurried tones, \"He moved! The tailor bloody well moved!\"

Indeed the tailor did move, for Rorgan\'s right hand does now rest upon his chest and his head lists toward his injured shoulder. Within moments, the man\'s eyes open as well and he lets out a faint groan.

�

. then check the Gondorian\'s pulse.. to check his breathing. That is all.. all she might do. She rises then, others already cleaning up the mess left from such treatments. Fresh water is drawn.. cool water.. and the sound of droplets comes as she wrings out a cloth and wipes his brow with a gentleness that might.. should fever come into his mind and he wander in dream, be reminiscent of his own love. Quiet words are given.. treatments scheduled. Then even she must move on, to tend the others poised upon their deathbeds.. and to heal her own husband.

�

�

Hours pass. The sun sets. And still there are those who keep vigil on the tailor. Not the least of these is a very young Silver Guardsman, and suddenly, as things have calmed down just enough that many are retiring for the evening, the young man lets out a small noise, but the joy of the noise can not be disguised, and as one of the apprentice healers looks to the man with a sharp eye, he quietly explains in hurried tones, \"He moved! The tailor bloody well moved!\"

Indeed the tailor did move, for Rorgan\'s right hand does now rest upon his chest and his head lists toward his injured shoulder. Within moments, the man\'s eyes open as well and he lets out a faint groan.