[Archive] Campfire Counsel

Farside War Camp

The war camp of Farside is arrayed in an organised and strategic fashion, with wooden palisades encircling it in preparation for any sudden attacks.

The largest of the tents are gathered at its heart, including the pavilions of the captains and the healers.

***

Stars shine brightly over the desert land of Harondor - nearly from horizon to horizon. Reflected below is a scattered collection of mortal fires as the various camps of Farside forces, Corsairs and Tribes gather to halt the Gondorian crusade to the north. Farsiders and Corsairs are protected within a wooden palisade. In the heart of this camp clusters a number of large tents.

Outside of one bearing the flapping standard of the raven sits Azradi, a Corsair for Farside. She is seated before a campfire. On her leg she balances a wicked looking scimitar.

*snick*snick* she hones the curved blade with a whetstone.

A woman in brightly colored clothing with a scarf tied around her black hair toasts round bread over the fire as she stirs a savory stew pot for the Farside and Corsair camp inhabitants. She cooks expertly, apparently having done this before.

\"Smells good,\" the Corsair says after a long silence she glances up from her work and smiles at the woman. \"Is this your first campaign?\"

\"Nay,\" the round woman says, turning the round breads. \"Nay, \'tis my 10th campaign against those no good, heretical tarks. I\'s the cook see?\"

\"I see,\" responds Azradi with a wry smile. \"You must have a story or two to tell after so many campaigns. What\'s the most unusual thing you\'ve seen?\"

The Corsair turns the sword over and slides the whetstone down the other edge.

\"Aye.\" The rotund woman pauses and holds out a spoonful of the stew for the other woman to taste. \"Well, and there was the time that the Captain of the Variyah, the old captain, he and a tark got into an insult-hurtling contest.\"

Leaning forward, Azradi opens her mouth to receive the proffered spoonful of stew. \"Mmmmm. Very tasty!\" the Corsair pronounces.

\"The old Captain, eh?\" she comments, \"Not Lord Steward Alphros?\"

\"Nay, was the old captain, and wouldn\'t you know, he won the contest? \'bout slit the throat of that old tark too. Would\'ve won if he hadn\'t...\" the round woman nods approvingly at the Corsair. \"Would ye like a bowl of the stew?\"

\"I would,\" Azradi admits. She rises to her feet and sheathes her scimitar. The whetstone is placed in a pouch at her waist and she sits again. Sighing, she stretches her legs out before her. \"I wonder how many more we wait for.\"

The rotund woman ladles some stew into a bowl and holds it out to the woman, flipping a toasted round of bread on top with a practiced hand. \"Ah, as I was saying. The old Captain, \'e had the tark Captain by his throat. And he woulda slit it too, but then this silly wisp of a bow, the sight of the Captain fair made him lose his lunch. And the Captain stepped in it and...\"

The crunch of gravel announces another well before the outline of a figure forms in the shadows, just beyond the stewpot\'s fire\'s reach. A young man, stained the color of clay and dust, approaches the two women. He examines them a moment, his eyes lingering on Azradi, and calls back to one still yet unseen, \"I think you have found your mark.\"

At the very edge of the ring of light surrounding the fire, Su\'ad also steps into view at the newcomers side. She smiles a slight smile and says, \"Indeed so. Though I think it is you who found her. My thanks to you.\" Then she steps forward another few steps. \"Good eve, Azradi.\" She glances toward the round woman Azradi has been conversing with, and nods her greeting silently.

Accepting the stew, Azradi dips the toast into the stew and takes a bite. She nearly spits it out again when the cook tells her story. Struggling to swallow and laugh at the same time, the food goes down the wrong way and she begins to cough hard - each one interspersed with a laugh.

Her eyes are watering when the dust-covered man arrives and she glances him and then at Su\'ud so close behind him. She attempts to return the other Corsair\'s greeting but fails.

The rotund woman\'s eyes sparkle with laughter and mystery. \"Stew anyone?\" She pauses, the ladle going back in. \"Aye, and there was the time the captain\'s boy, he decided to show what he was worth...\"

Su\'ad\'s eyes raise in...alarm? Bemusement? Her expression is mixed as she watches the corsair choke on her stew...or bread. \"Not if its going to do that to me! For me, its death by Tark or nothing.\" But she sits down next to the bunch anyway, nodding toward a bowl in askance.

Yildirim frowns at the joviality at the fire but moves closer still. He crouches near the blaze, shaking his head to the offer of stew. Rubbing the warmth into his hands, or perhaps the dirt from them, he only comments, \"I prefer nothing,\" and manages a small grin with it.

*cough* \"The stew is fine,\" Azradi manages to say in a strained voice. *cough* \"I heartedly recommend it.\" *cough*

Thumping her chest, she coughs again and pauses. No more coughing seems imminent, so she turns to the other Corsair and the man. \"You made it, Su\'ud. Who is your companion?\"

\"Aye and \'twas my story what made her laugh and cough, not the stew. Good stew it is, and bread,\" the rotund woman says. \"I was just telling her stories of the Old Captain and my 10 campaigns.\"

\"I am but a new sword for Umbar on not his tenth, but his first campaign against the North,\" he begins, \"I was named at birth Yildirim, and my aim is to return to Umbar with tales such as the cook\'s here for those that would hear tales of the Farside. And if luck and fate should have it, return too with my life.\"

Su\'ad\'s mouth fell open to say some mutter\'d answer, but the response is given for her. \"I was just looking for someone who knew how to find you, actually. We\'ve finally set camp, and the men are looking forward to a quiet rest.\" She rolls her shoulders and turns her head in a funny way, stretching. \"By all under Umbar, I am sore.\"

There is a rustling and the sound of movement at the edge of the camp the sound of challenges being called, and answers being made. No blows or cries are forthcoming, so it can be assumed that the one who approaches Farside\'s encampment is welcomed rather than turned away or slain by warding arrows.

Eventually the light of the campfire is shed on the dusty features of a handful of men -- Haradrim trackers, a couple of Farside warriors, and their lord Alphros. The veiled man nods to his companions, and they disperse as he approaches the campfire alone.

Stirring the stew again, the rotund woman nods. \"Aye and you should with this Captain. A good one \'e is. A tark head each to boot, I\'d imagine. You\'re sure and you don\'t want any stew?\"

Clearing her throat, Azradi nods and replies to Su\'ud first \"Aye, we force marched here from Caldur this morning.\"

\"You are in good company, Yildirim,\" the Corsair says, turning to the man. \"For this is my first campaign as well - of this sort, at least.\"

Catching site of the Lord Steward approaching, she nods her head to him and smiles. Slowly she turns her attention back Yildirim though. \"Are you sworn to Farside, then?\"

Ladling stew into a bowl and then flipping a piece of bread on top, the rotund woman holds out a bowl to Su\'ad.

Almost right away, once the Lord Steward is recognized, Su\'ad is getting back on her feet out of deference, sore though she may be. As she rises, she takes the cooking woman\'s stew and bread, and just holds it for now. \"My Lord Steward.\" she murmurs.

\"I,\" Yildirim clears his throat, \"I had not the time before the campaign was announced and off. My work for my family kept me from having a meeting and well,\" another sigh, \"I have not, no.\"

\"I had hoped when Su\'ad spoke of finding you, it would lead me closer to...\" his words pause at Su\'ad’s words. He stands and turns towards the Steward, mimicking her movements.

Azradi digs into her stew and then pauses, looking at her companions as they rise. With a quiet grunt, she too gets to her feet and turns to face the Steward. Perhaps it\'s merely imagination, but her lips seem to twitch slightly.

Alphros nods to those present, his eyes passing over Azradi, Su\'ad, and the cook and the Corsair unknown to him. \"Greetings,\" he half-mumbles to the group. \"By all accounts of the tribes\' scouts, confirmed with my own eyes, the Gondorians have set up camp to the north, where the Narakshi once had their village. There was a sortie no more than a few hours ago, with the Prince who leads them no less.\"

\"I am glad to see that you have arrived here as agreed, Su\'ad,\" he adds to the Corsair woman.

\"Can I offer the Lord Steward some refreshment, humble though it is?\" the rotund woman asks, some of the broadness leaving her voice, with difficulty.

Su\'ad smiles a broad smile, both proud and bemused. She answers, \"And what else would I do?\" Unsaid words seem to hang on the air. \"We came with a small host, my Lord, ready to remember what it means to be a corsair.\" She doesn\'t wait for his leave to sit back down though, and tries to start her stew hurriedly.

Blinking as Su\'ad sits, Yildirim decides to remain standing for now, moving to the side to allow Alphros a path to the fire.

\"How many survive?\" Azradi asks, re-taking her seat. She glances at the now silent Yildirim. \"That\'s the man you want to speak to if you are interested in being counted among the Farsiders,\" she urges.

Alphros waves away the cook\'s offer with a polite gesture, drawing the dirt-stained cloak from his shoulders as he comes nearer to the fire.

\"Excellent,\" is all he says in answer to Su\'ad for the moment, though he seems pleased indeed. \"I will have the camp\'s master-at-arms estimate our numbers now. The Gondorians still retain the greater part of their strength,\" he adds in answer to Azradi, \"Though they have lost the more favourable ground to the south.\"

The boy hesitates, allowing Alphros to speak, then answers Azradi, \"Oath or no, my allegiance has already been given and my blade with support it. I would not bother the Lord Steward with such trifles at the end of his day with his mind is on tactics and the goals necessary to attain our victory.\"

\"Then, with your Honor\'s permission, I\'ll go and see if anyone else wants stew,\" the rotund woman says, holding her ladle and half-turning to go.

Su\'ad keeps at her stew, eating it quickly but not commenting as she listens to the words spoken. Her eyes rove though to each as he or she speaks.

\"Go ahead,\" Azradi says off-handedly to the boy, \"You may not get another chance soon.\" She dips into her stew and takes a bite.

Overhearing the exchange concerning himself, Alphros turns to Yildirim, looking between the young man the other Corsairs. \"Azradi speaks the truth. And it is among the first and truest laws of great Corsairs, that they will always swear their allegiance with their own tongue to their Captain or their Lord, rather than work merely through proxy. Take pride in yourself, if you deem yourself worthy to join these others.\"

\"Then I swear to you, my Lord and Captain, Alphros, that though my skill with this blade,\" he hand goes to his side, resting on the pommel, \"Is untested, it will serve you. My allegiance to you, so too untested, will never falter. The culmination of the few years of my life I have lived, I pledge now to put towards fulfilling these oaths to you.\" A pause. \"I swear it.\"

His eyes, fixed on Alphros, do not waver as he finishes, \"Is there more you would have me give oath on?\"

Munching on the last of her toast, Azradi idly watches the boy give his oath to the Steward.

\"That will do for now, Corsair,\" Alphros answers in satisfaction, \"And you may now consider yourself to have the protection of Farside. I have only one thing to ask: your name?\"

The Steward seats himself by the fire, the crimson light playing across the thin fabric of his veil. A handful of camp labourers move past behind him, bearing a large secure chest with the sigil of Farside on it. \"We will test the Gondorians with battle come the right time, very soon... Though I would soon after share words with them, too, when they are fully aware of the seriousness of our expedition. What say you all, for how we next step forward here?\" he asks, looking at those gathered about.

Su\'ad watches the exchange with interest. There is always a...a sort of magic to such ceremony, and it is always riveting. But once the oath is made, and accepted, she stands up quite suddenly and announces, \"Well, I think I had better get some rest. We\'ve had a hard journey....\" But as the Steward also sits, and starts talking about war plans, she thinks better of it, and sits back down. \"I would imagine they know we have a force...but do you think they know about our newly joined forces, my Lord?\"

\"Yildirim is my name,\" the boy replies, \"And to your question,\" now he takes a moment and crouches down near the flames again, \"I would add to Su-ad\'s words and first ask what is our goal? This land is barren, yes? It is of little value to hold, I would think. And certainly there are easier ways to cut short the lives of those who protect the lands of Gondor?\"

\"Whether they know or not,\" Azradi begins for her part, setting her empty bowl aside, \"We should strike quickly either in surprise or before they can properly defend against our swelling numbers.\"

\"Do we know whether or not they have sent for reinforcements of their own?\"

\"These words are wisdom too, I think,\" Yildirim comments, \"Certainly, our first cut must be our deepest for they are closer to support than we. I cannot say how we would do it, but we should take care with our numbers.\"

Su\'ad\'s eyes flick to Azradi, and she nods. \"I am in agreement there. But if we think they do not know, we should attack with the main force that has been here, with the new forces held back. Then the main force should fail and fall back, drawing them into an ambush...\" She glances at the faces around the fire. \"Or at least advance so we flank them and then crush them in our vice.\"

\"The Narakshi\'s outriders are ensuring that they do not get close enough to guess at our true strength, especially now that reinforcements have arrived,\" Alphros answers Su\'ad before turning to Yildirim. \"This is a barren land, Corsair, but then those who live by the sea\'s rule might hardly guess at what it represents... the freedom of Umbar from the reign of the Gondorian Kings and their petty Stewards. The diminishment of their strength and the greatening of ours. For years now the Gondorian Prince and his forces have driven Umbar\'s forces out of here through crusade and sword, and set the Haradrim who call it home -- even the Narakshi -- into flight. But now we will draw the line in the sand, most truly, with a counter-crusade of our own, till the swords are once more at their borders, not ours. And then to the sea we will go to reestablish our strength also.\"

The Steward turns a coin in his hands, and then flicks it to Yildirim, and then another to Su\'ad. They are foreign coins bearing the sigil of Aglarrama. \"You are right, Azradi,\" he adds to the Corsair, \"As are you all. We will strike quickly. The tactic you propose,\" he adds to Su\'ad, \"Is not so different to those sometimes used by the Corsairs, is it not? We shall draw them into this ambush of which you speak, before their own reinforcements arrive. The Gondorians are not fools. They cannot afford to be.\"

\"Thank you, my Lord.\" Su\'ad responds at Alphros\' compliment. Her face is grim, though. \"You honor me. I would ask though...what terrain have they lost in the south, that you call favorable?\"

\"If you wish to parlay with them after the first engagement,\" Azradi says, her eyes shifting now to Alphros. \"The greater the first blow, the stronger your bargaining position - if bargaining is what you have in mind, lord Steward.\"

Nodding to Azradi, \"They are not fools, but they are arrogant and prideful, or so the stories told claim,\" Yildirim replies, catching his coin, \"Their strengths are many, but we can trap them in with their flaws,\" he finishes with another nod.

Alphros nods to Azradi, his lips growing into a toothy smile. \"You have just exactly right, Azradi. We shall strike them a fell but not fatal blow, and then grant them the opportunity to consider my offer with clear and unprideful eyes, for all their arrogance they know too well the death knell of their weak and dying kingdom, so misruled by its weak and untrue lords.\"

Looking at Su\'ad he adds, \"The lands near to the Poros have always been difficult to control, which is why the line between Gondor and Harondor has always been drawn at the river proper. Only the Naraski managed to secure our riverbank. But further to the south they might more easily defend against our conventional assault. Fortunately the surprise ensured by our alliance with the tribes has rid them of that advantage.\"

Su\'ad seems...dissatisfied with this answer. \"I should perhaps consult the maps.\" she says. \"How long do we have, do you think, before the Gondorians learn we are all here?\"

\"I think I will leave these details to minds more experienced than my own,\" Yildirim says, taking to his feet, \"If what is foretold here comes to pass, soon I will need my strength and thus, my rest.\"

He nods to Alphros, \"Lord Steward, until I have the honor again,\" and then to rest, \"And until next time to you both.\"

Snorting, Azradi tosses her chin towards the north. \"Clear eyes perhaps, but that lot is unlikely to be lacking pride even in defeat.\"

\"They wane and yet continue to throw themselves against the Harondor with little to gain\"

She pauses in her speech and looks up to the departing boy. \"Good night, Yildirim.\"

Alphros rises and nods. \"Farewell, to all of you. Su\'ad, Azradi... We shall meet upon the morrow to discuss our attack with the captains of the armsmen and mercenaries.\" And then the Steward turns and disappears into his tent.

\"They have the right of it, Su\'ud,\" Azradi says, rising and yawning. \"The day was long.\"

\"Good night, I will see you on the morrow.\"

Then she too makes her way to her tent.