Attack and Aftermath

It has been yet another long, hard day of travel, Gondor\'s army moving not at a grueling pace, yet moving steadily and deliberately south. And yet, this host of soldiers, officers, healers, and supply wagons is large, and as such, it is strung out along the road despite all efforts to keep it together. Guards travel with each section, and men of the Company of Ithilien can, at times, be seen along the road, combing through the nearby woods for the enemy.

As the day now draws to a close, though, camp is being set up once more. The last of the wagons and troops make their way toward the designated place, each man most likely thinking of a small fire and some food that might soon be awaiting him.

Eben grumbles as he trudges along with the column of White Tree Infantry. Upon arrival at the camp, the Man-At-Arms lets his pike lean against a wagon as he takes a seat, taking a moment to remove his well-worn shoes to give his feet a nice relaxing massage. \"You think one of those healers is good at rubbing feet? I got so many sores an blisters I don\'t think I\'d make it to the latrine without doubling over.\" he says to a companion, the two chuckling a little, casting leery glances over at a small group of healeresses.

[Coruin(#4309)]

A column of knights accompanies this venture, and with them their attendant squires. As the last of the wagons roll into the camp, as the horses are picketed, as fires are laid and evening stars shine, one of those squires passes through the area inhabited by the Men of Minas Tirith on his way to where the knights make their camp.

Coruin carries an armful of wood for one of those fires, his features smudged with dust and dirt. Eben\'s comment doesn\'t pass him by, and he snickers to hear it. \"Double over too close to the latrines, and someone\'s liable to give you a swift kick in \'em,\" he comments helpfully.

[Thingalad(#32030)] �

Thingalad walks by the man-at-arms busy with his feet and frowns, hissing out, \"If we\'re ambushed, I hope you enjoy fighting barefoot.\" The master scout goes on by on his errand.

Equally foul-tempered, it would appear, is Ceredir, who, from behind the mask that the Master Scout wears, scowls at Coruin. \"That wood had better be from along the road and not from the supply wagons, or I\'ll see to it that your rations are halved for the week.\"

[Bor(#30834)] �

Ambush?

The words are barely off the lips of the Master Scout when a flurry of arrows from both sides of road break through the treeline and descend upon the men and women therein. What accompanies these? The foul echoing cries of orcs.

[Amralin(#28967)]

One woman amongst the healers, a tall and bright-eyed lady, shoots a piercing look at Eben.

\"The healers of Gondor have better thing to do than tend to your sore feet, oh wretched warrior. Watch your eyes, now! I shall have no time to watch them for you.\"

Despite the harsh words some amusement sparkles in Amralin\'s eyes. She turns in Coruin\'s direction and smiles, but the sudden arrows make the entire group of women break into a chaos of shrieks - and healers everywhere dive to the ground!

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"And what if it\'s--\" Coruin begins at Ceredir\'s challenge, his chin tilting upward in challenge of his own, but the shriek of arrows and the cry of orcs stops him mid-sentence. The wood drops to the ground where he stands, and his hand goes to his sword. \"Where are they!\" he calls, diving toward the source of the action rather than away from it. The green cloak he wears -- a deep, forest green -- provides some little protection in the sunset hour. More, at least, than the squire\'s whites he wears beneath it.

[Zaira(#20676)]

Under a table, grey eyes peering everywhere for the source of the deadly rain is a young woman with a dagger in hand. The Healer is known as the Lady Zaira, niece to the Master Healer Laeraelin, daughter of the Lieutenant-General, betrothed of Lord Endaerion... And true to her Ephalkhir blood, she seems ready to fight. Even if there is little a dagger can do against arrows.

Nevertheless, she dives out from under the table and towards a man writhing on the ground with an arrow protuding very close to his throat. \"I need help! This man to the Pavillions now!\" she calls out

[Bor(#30834)] �

\"Come! Come into the forest, white-skins!\" taunt the voices menacingly.

And there comes another volley of arrows upon these words.

Eben grins a little, smirking a bit at the scout, though his eyes flicker over to Amralin, offering the healer a little wink. That wink quickly changes to wide-eyed as an arrow whistles in from outside the camp, striking the side of the wagon he leans against. \"Bugger.\" is about the only word that comes to mind as his boot is replaced. The Hostman stands, snatching up his shield and drawing his sword. He uses the large tower shield to protect himself as best he can, holding it up in the direction of the arrows as he moves to join the others, as it were.

Ceredir wheels about, pulling the bow he carries on his back to the front and stringing it. An arrow is notched to the bowstring, but the fading light and the trees offer little help for targeting the enemy. Rather than risk hitting any of the Company of Ithilien who might be in the woods, the Master Scout drops the bow and draws his sword. \"In the trees!\" he calls. \"Drive them toward the road!\"

[Thingalad(#32030)] �

Thingalad charges out of the trees a moment later as he chases a lone orc with a hacking weapon. The master scout holds high his maul hammer for a killing strike he has streaks of orcish gore upon him and his hammer is covered in brains from a few well placed strikes in his brief attack. The sector just cleared by him and his troop is clear... For the moment.

[Zaira(#20676)]

Thunk-thunk-thunk... The hail continues to fall while Zaira snatches up the fallen man\'s shield, seeking to use it to provide cover for herself and the man she attends to already. Using her dagger, she cuts the length of the arrow off, using her shoulder to keep the shield upright.

But a squire hurrying the horses out of fire doesn\'t seem to notice the little duo on the ground, and a horse\'s hoof strikes the shield, sending it and the woman flying. One of the second tier of arrows strikes the girl\'s back, lodging itself in the muscles near the side.

[Coruin(#4309)]

The squire\'s sword flies into his hand, though his charge slows until the others catch up with him. Brave he may be, but not stupid: it\'s best not to charge a company of orcs alone. \"Scum of darkness!\" he cries, but it seems he\'ll not have much a chance to employ it if the road\'s cleared of them already.

He looks a touch disappointed at that.

[Amralin(#28967)]

Amralin\'s eyes widen at an arrow that quivers in the ground, a few inches from her face. Then she rises and strides through the crowd of crying healers and novices, shouting: \"Take cover behind the wagons! Do not get in the way of the fighters! /You/ there, unpack the emergency herbs and prepare for the wounded.\"

The Bragollach swiftly crouches by Zaira\'s side, hands running over her injury.

Eben follows with a small company of infantry as they rise up from the ground. Burdened with armor, tabards, shields and other weapons, they aren\'t the fastest folk in the fray, but they are steady. The group begin heading across the small open space, heading for the forest and the orcs within, Eben in the lead for now.

[Bor(#30834)] �

There is silence from the trees for a moment.

And then a line of orcs appear on the road, running full tilt towards not the soldiers, but the women they protect. No arrows herald their arrival.

[Zaira(#20676)]

Zaira\'s eyes are wide in shock at the pain and her hands clench and unclench for a moment before she points at the line of charging orchs she was attending. \"Yrch,\" she finally manages to gasp out, tears begining to fill her eyes.

As Thingalad clears the forest directly in front of them, Ceredir turns, scanning right and left. \"There!\" he yells, spotting the orcs heading for the women. He points with his sword but doesn\'t head that way--other soldiers are much closer than he. Instead, the Master Scout plunges into the forest, following a group of other men of the Company of Ithilien.

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"Amralin!\" Coruin cries as the orcs charge along the road toward the women, and he swiftly backpedals almost bumping into a soldier who\'s been following behind him in the process. He\'s far enough away that, even running fast as he can, he\'ll meet up with the orcs about the same time they meet up with the women.

[Amralin(#28967)]

Amralin\'s eyes narrow at Zaira\'s words, and instead of looking in the direction pointed out by the woman she guides her hands to the injury.

\"Press here, to stop the flow of blood,\" the Bragollach says. \"I will return shortly, you will be fine.\"

Only then does she rise and faces the orcs, stepping forward without hesitation to stand with her back to the group of healers. She draws a dagger with a long blade, poises the tip at the charging creatures, and waits.

[Eben(#29900)]

�������� A cry from the wagons calls the attention of Eben, \"Blast...\" he grunts, seeing the orcs emerging to head for the wagons, \"Get them! Protect the wagons!\" he shouts, not being one for words it would seem. The hosts turn, moving to return to the wagons, doing their best to form up and block the advance of the orcs.

[Thingalad(#32030)] �

Thingalad breathes hard through his mask as he looks to the trees and scans them with great attention, surveying them for movement. Just then, the cries of the healers draw his attention and he moves along the skirmish line in that direction to assist.

[Zaira(#20676)]

It\'s hard to keep real pressure on an injury one can barely reach, and as this one was on her back, Zaira\'s hand can do little more but touch the arrow protruding from her torso. Helplessly, she struggles to her knees, crying out sharply at the pain as she grabs for her dagger once more. Her face is white, but there is a blazing fire behind her eyes as she fights to stand and face her attackers.

From the woods, there is the sound of steel clashing on steel, and shouts, but now men\'s voices mingle with the taunts and curses of orcs. Here and there, flashes of green and brown can be seen.

[Coruin(#4309)]

Coruin reaches the healers\' sides just a few moments before the orcs do -- long enough to look over Amralin and make sure she\'s not injured -- yet -- and to flash her a bright smile. \"Amralin! There\'s orcs attacking!\" he explains with delight, sword at the ready as they make their assault.

[Amralin(#28967)]

\"I see them!\"

The Bragollach takes her eyes off the charging mass of monsters, smiling at Coruin. The healer spends a moment looking between her own dagger and her brother\'s sword -- wrinkling her nose as the the former, perhaps, suddenly seems less capable than the Squire\'s weapon.

\"Some day you must make good your promise to teach me the arrow and bow,\" she yells.

Eben takes a little step back with one foot to brace himself against the charge of the orcs. His shield up and at the ready, he shudders as a foul-smelling beast slams against it, nearly driving the breath from his lungs. Gritting his teeth, he brings his longsword up, thrusting it between his shield and the shield of the man next to him, hardly caring when he meets fleshy resistance, simply driving the sword in as deep as he can.

[Thingalad(#32030)] �

Thingalad is diverted from his purpose by more orcs charging his way. Slewing one, the master scout and his men find themselves in pitched battle again as they attempt to relieve the healers. Slowly, the battle shifts into the trees and the group is lost from sight.

[Coruin(#4309)]

One of the orcs makes it all the way to the healers, but Coruin hops in front before they reach Amralin. \"I will!\" he calls back as he ducks the orc\'s blow, getting under its reach to plant his blade in the foul thing\'s stomach. The stench of it wrinkles his nose, though, and he coughs to clear it as he draws back.

[Zaira(#20676)]

There is a loud thud behind Amralin. A look behind her would reveal the pale and bleeding form of Zaira having passed out from either pain or blood loss. In either case, she\'s now cut her brow on a rock and is bleeding there too. Yet, she still clings tightly to her dagger in her blacked out world.

Orcs now spill out of the forest and onto the road. But they are wounded, bleeding, shot through with arrows or sliced by sword cuts. Ceredir and the men with him bound out after the orcs, hacking and slashing their way through the enemy. Any orcs that escape the men of Ithilien are easily picked off by other armed men of Gondor.

[Amralin(#28967)]

\"How am I supposed to slay the Yrch if you are in my way?\"

Amralin\'s lively voice is loud at Coruin, but most at all concerned. When the creature doubles over from the youth\'s attack, she firmly stabs it in the face. The thud catches the healer\'s attention, though, and she turns to lift up Zaira the best she can!

\"Be careful, little brother,\" she murmurs, starting to work on getting the fainted woman to the healer\'s tents.

Eben withdraws his blade, now slick with black orcish blood. He dosen\'t dwell on the gore though, using his shield to push away the slumping form as he parries an incoming scimitar, thrusting with the hilt of his sword to give the wicked face infront of him a prompt thrashing.

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"You can slay the next one if you like!\" Coruin offers, grinning with delight as the orc crumples before him and getting in the way, too, of the next one. He doesn\'t make good on that promise, though, and leaves Amralin to carrying the wounded away while he tries to hold back a pair of orcs with the help of another who\'s come to the healers\' aid.

\"Take that!\" he exclaims as he stabs in, \"And that!\" That he manages not to get killed himself might well be chalked up to beginner\'s luck.

As the last of the orcs fall to the men of Gondor, there is a sudden, shocking quiet that descends on the woods. This is broken only by the calls of birds--or at least seemingly birds--and then slowly, men of the Company of Ithilien emerge from the forest. All are bloodied and some are being half carried out.

[Coruin(#4309)]

One, two, the orcs who were attacking the healers are laid low, one by Coruin\'s blade, the other by that of his companion at arms. \"Hah!\" Coruin crows as they fall, grin snaking across his features despite the silence and the wounded carried back into the camp.

Eben is breathing heavily, sweat coursing on his brow from exertion. He takes a moment to regain himself, before looking back to the wagons. Using an orcish corpse to wipe his blade, he sheathes it, \"See to it that the wounded are brought to the healers.\" he instructs a slightly more junior Hostman, before moving over towards the healers, it seems he took a little cut to the arm in the recent scuffle.

The injured are taken to healers, dead orcs dragged off the road and away from the camp so that no stench of them will be detectable this night. And then Ceredir, bloodied but unhurt, stoops, picking up several pieces of fallen firewood, and walking toward Coruin.

\"You dropped this.\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

Coruin takes a step back from the ruin he\'s helped to cause amid the trio of orcs, no little satisfaction on his features. \"Huh?\" he asks as Ceredur approaches him, barely casting a look aside at the man. \"Oh. Yes, that\'s mine,\" he replies, though it\'s a moment before he figures out the best way to carry it along with his orc-blooded sword. That, he pauses to clean off by sticking it in the dirt and drawing it out before sheathing it, and then he holds his arms out for that wood. \"Kind of you,\" he comments.

Ceredir laughs, shaking his head and setting the wood down rather than handing it to Coruin. \"You need help with this mess? And are you injured?\" He indicates the dead orcs around the man.

[Coruin(#4309)]

Coruin glances around at the orcs around him, and his cheeks take on a hint of color. \"Oh,\" he decides after a moment. \"Should probably get rid of them, huh? Else camp\'ll smell something awful. What do you do with them when they\'re dead?\"

Eben listens to Coruin speak as he makes his way towards the healing tents, \"Burn them.\" he says with a little bit of a shrug, \"The aftermath of every battlefield is heralded by the funeral pyres of each army.\"

\"Take them to the woods and conceal them,\" Ceredir answers, shaking his head to Eben. \"Not that an army this size can move in secret, but....I\'ve been told that nor are we to announce our presence.\" He lifts a hand, waving over a few Scouts, who begin clearing the bodies away. \"We\'ll do it. You folk aren\'t allowed off the road.\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"Why not?\" Coruin asks, this young squire (and young he is, even to be wearing a squire\'s whites) seeming full of questions this evening. \"Why can\'t we leave the road, anyway? I can take more orcs. I killed two. Two!\"

Ceredir is masked, so his face does not give away his age or expression, but his eyes, grey, turn icy cold. The Master Scout pokes a black-gauntleted hand toward the young Squire.

\"Do you want to live to see another day and kill more orc? Do you want to fight for Gondor, earn the praise of her Captains? One day become a Knight yourself?\"

\"Or perhaps you want to die today, here and now, for being an idiot and violating the Ban of Ithilien?\" he hisses.

Eben raises an eyebrow, \"Ban of Ithilien?\" he inquires. While not as young as Coruin, he isn\'t all that knowledgeable on subjects outside of Minas Tirith it would seem.

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"Oh.\" Coruin\'s answer is accompanied by a wrinkle of his nose and a look out at the woods. \"We\'re in Ithilien now? We\'ve got woods in Lamedon,\" he points out. \"And anyone can go into them. It\'s silly to have a ban just because they\'re woods. It means no one can go in them,\" he explains to Eben -- that much, at least, this youngster knows. \"On the Lord Steward\'s order. Except certain people. It\'s still silly, though. We\'re all fighting for Gondor.\"

\"The Ban of Ithilien,\" Ceredir repeats, his tone now incredulous -and- icy. \"Only Rangers and those men of the Company of Ithilien may set foot past the Eastern shore of the Anduin. Those who are not men of the Company of Ithilien and who violate the ban are considered to be breaking their oath--be they in the military or not. The punishment is execution. Immediate execution.\"

The Master Scout glares at Eben, then nods to Coruin. \"It is not silly. It is for your own protection. Or perhaps you\'d like to wander the woods and have the servants of the enemy roast you for dinner? Or worse, take you prisoner and torment you until you scream for your own death?\"

Ceredir continues, \"because we travel south, the Lord Steward has granted that those not of the Company of Ithilien can travel through this land for this purpose. But...you are to stay on the road and only on the road.\"

\"Unless you wish to die today and by my hand?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

Coruin considers the options presented by Ceredir and then, with a shrug, he shakes his head. \"Not particularly. I\'ve glorious deeds to do, first. _You_ can cart off corpses of dead orcs instead, then, if you like.\" His smile takes a sly turn. \"I don\'t mind it _that_ much if someone else gets to do the dirty work because of the Steward\'s orders.\"

Eben shrugs, \"Seems a little silly.... what happens if Lord Denethor wants to send out an army? We\'ll have a bunch of you rangers standing on the other side to shoot us down?\" he muses, a few more chucklings echoing amongst the other hosts.

\"You are with Captain Gurtir\'s company?\" Ceredir questions Eben. \"He can surely do a better job of explaining it than I can. I only know that the Lord Steward has his reasons for enforcing the ban and that it has been at least partially lifted for the duration of this campaign. With the restriction that you stay on the road. Whether or not that is practical or will result in all our deaths...\" Ceredir shrugs. \"I am not a tactician, just a supply officer, when it comes down to it.\"

But the Master Scout\'s eyes are cold again when he turns to Coruin. \"What is your name and to whom do you report?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

The chill in the Master Scout\'s eyes does little to cool the brightness in Coruin\'s own, and his smile remains -- a touch cocky at that -- as he lifts his chin at the question. \"Coruin Telamarth,\" he answers, not a little proud of that name. \"And I report to...\"

To whom? He pauses there a moment, smile fading a touch as he scours memory. \"...to a knight. One of the Bragollach ones.\"

\"Bragollach?!\" Ceredir isn\'t particularly intimidating, being on the shorter side for a man of Gondor and tending toward the scrawny side. But his eyes stare at Coruin, cold, calculating.

\"Sir Bor Bragollach?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"Hir Bor! Yes! That one!\" The name jogs Coruin\'s memory, and he brightens as he shares it with Ceredir. \"I report to him. He\'s my knight. I\'m a squire, you see.\"

And that\'s obvious enough. The cold, calculating look? It doesn\'t phase this youngster.

\"I see....\" Ceredir rubs at his chin and watches as the last of the dead orcs are dragged away. \"If you are a squire of Sir Bor...\" he looks at the youth...\"why have I not seen you here before? And...\"

With a smirk, Ceredir looks down to the pieces of wood. \"I do not think that Sir Bor will be pleased to learn that one of his Squires \'acquired\' extra wood, either by taking it from the supply wagons or by wandering off the road, thereby violating the ban of Ithilien.\"

\"What do you think?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

The wood does rather have the shape more of discarded, dried out branches than of the chopped logs carried along by the supplies carts. Coruin glances down at the wood then back up at Ceredir, a considering look crossing his features. \"It was on the road,\" he decides then, smile bolstering once more. \"Dead wood. On the road. I didn\'t even go off it at all. That\'d be violating the Ban, you know, and my mother\'d cry herself to sleep if I caught my death that way.\"

As to why he\'s not been seen before? He lets that question slide, following up on his chipper comments with a bright enough, \"And who are you?\"

The Master Scout is not apparently without some humor, though, for he laughs quietly at that answer, shaking his head. Pulling off his right gauntlet, he rubs the back of his neck, pausing to exhale and smirk a bit as he looks at the boy before him.

\"That is a good answer. An acceptable answer, and I will not press you further on it, in fact. Just be sure that any further wood you pick up is along the side of the road. Not in the woods, because...\"

Ceredir glances over his shoulder, then whispers. \"Squire of Sir Bor or not, if you are caught in the woods, nothing will save you. Nothing.\" His eyes are steely on the boy for a moment, then he relaxes.

\"I am the Deputy Quartermaster and it\'s my job to keep track of every last branch of wood this army burns. Why haven\'t I seen you around before, if you are Sir Bor\'s squire? Why weren\'t you in Osgiliath with him all this time?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

The Deputy Quartermaster\'s laughter draws Coruin\'s grin all the easier -- it takes a bit of a cheeky quality -- and his chin lifts a touch. \"You won\'t find _me_ in the woods. No, sir,\" he agrees readily on the heels of that caution. \"Just picking up dead wood along the road, mind -- to keep hir\'s fire warm of a night, you know. I\'m new,\" he adds to that explanation, rubbing at the back of his neck a moment -- almost in subtle mimicry of the other\'s movements. \"A new squire. White, you know. That means I\'m new.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

It is ever needful when healing must be done that there be water boiled. And water that needs boiling requires someone to tend and carry it. So it is that the few novices on this expedition are, in essence, idling about waiting for the newest water poured into the cauldron to boil.

�

It is neither a large cauldron nor a large fire, so the novices are taking turns carrying when carrying is needed. Otherwise, Morwen and her cohort a relegated to poking up the fire now and again and simply waiting.

\"New.\" Ceredir tries out that word, then nods. \"All right. Not my business, is it?\" he grins to the boy. \"But just how new are you to Sir Bor\'s retinue? Recruited specifically for this campaign?\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"New,\" Coruin confirms with that same cheeky smile as he lowers himself to a knee and begins to collect the dropped wood from the ground around him. \"Relatively new. He squired me in Minas Tirith before the campaign -- I lived there with my mother, you see, and my father knew his father way back a very long time ago.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � Quick strides carry the Seven Stones Captain from the depths of the camp, a deep frown upon his face and terrible look within his eyes as he surveys his surroundings.

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

The two novice healers stay close to their fire, their eyes wide and dark and a little fearful as they dart gazes around the camp.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � Passing by the fire where his cousin sits, Gurtir stops on his walk to glance down at the novice... the tempest within his eyes still not unleashed as he speaks, concerned yet attempting at kindness.

�� � \"Morwen. Were you harmed?\"

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

\"Gurtir,\" Morwen says in a voice of enormous relief. \"No, was not harmed. We all hid inside the healing pavilion, beneath the cots, as we were told to do. Nothing came too near to us.\"

�

She pauses, then looks up at him with wide grey eyes. \"I was very frightened, though,\" she says in a soft voice, as if afraid to speak the words aloud.

[Bor(#30834)] �

And soon after the Seven Stone\'s Captain\'s emergence from within those same camps come the Knight-Captain to survey the damage. Impenetrable of gaze, he stands in the midst of the area, speaking out above the din of fright.

\"How many have we lost?\" asks of any who would answer.

\"Then you are favored indeed. If...\" Ceredir peers icily at Coruin from behind his mask...\"if, that is, it\'s your wish to become a soldier.\" But the Master Scout\'s attention is soon grabbed by the approach of Gurtir and Bor, and he shrugs to the boy. \"I have duties to finish here. Probably as do you, since here is your Knight-Captain.\" With that he moves closer toward Gurtir and Morwenn, though it is only a few steps away.

\"I am glad to hear you are safe, Morwenn. Sir. But Zaira is injured. An arrow in her back.\"

\"As for lost...three, sir. Many more injured, mostly arrows.\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"One of the healers got shot,\" Coruin volunteers, without the concern that such an action ought perhaps to elicit, and he gestures toward that pavillion. \"And a couple of others, too. There were arrows. But I killed two!\" Two! He pushes to his feet with his arms full of wood, then, and a satisfied look across his features.

\"A soldier?\" he scoffs at Ceredir\'s words, smile turning toward a smirk. \"I don\'t. I want to be a _knight_.\" And oh, there\'s a world of difference, there.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � \"This is Ithilien, young cousin.\"

�� � Bitter, grim, Gurtir repeats the words. \"This is Ithilien.\" Then, as if waving off the ghost of brooding with a shake of head, he forces a smile at the lass. \"Your fear is well explained... Yet I heard a healer got injured? I was afraid it might have been you.\" he turns to recieve Ceredir\'s words.

�� � \"Why on earth had we no warning of them coming? To be caught utterly unprepared? A healer hurt?!\", the Captain explodes, eyes turning to Bor briefly.

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

\"Yes, I know,\" Morwen says quietly to Ceredir, her face pale. \"But they say she will be all right in time.\"

�

She watches her kinsman, standing perhaps nearer to him than she needs to for the protection he represents. \"She left hiding to help another who had been hurt. It was not... it was brave, but she oughtn\'t have done it. Now we are without her skill.\"

�

She shoots a glance at Bor then, an unreadable expression that looks something like relief.

A sideways look is given to Coruin at his reponse, but only briefly, as Ceredir is focused on Gurtir and Morwenn, not appearing to have time to talk more with the youth.

\"I was with the supply wagons, sir--my watch was not in the trees surrounding the road, from whence the attackers came. They were on us with arrows, with no word of warning at all. It...perhaps the patrol responsible has more to say. If they live still.\"

[Bor(#30834)] �

\"Come here, Coruin,\" says the Knight-Captain, his words nearing a sigh.

\"Three dead, a few injured,\" he then says to Gurtir. \"Those numbers I can live with. This is only a sign that we must move faster.\"

[Coruin(#4309)]

Ceredir\'s sideways look meets only a cocky smile from Coruin, who adjusts his grip on the wood in his arms -- not enough to fill them, but enough to require the aid of both -- before, summoned, he trots toward the Knight-Captain. \"I killed two, Hir Bor,\" he informs that man with the same confident grin.

[Bor(#30834)] �

\"Are you injured?\" the Knight-Captain asks, appraising his Squire. He seems to altogether dismiss the boy\'s confident boasting. \"Anywhere at all?\"

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

With the men distracted, Morwen glances at her fellow novice, then steps away to retrieve a few sticks of wood for the fire from a pile nearby. \"The fire is not hot enough to boil it, and they need it as soon as may be,\" they murmur together.

\"Zaira was injured when she went to the aid of a man with an arrow in his throat,\" Ceredir offers, looking between Gurtir and Bor. \"And perhaps your Squire could give some of the wood he collected.....along the side of the road... to the healers? To heat the fire they need to boil water for the injured?\" The Master-Scout smiles just a little behind his mask as he says those words, particularly emphasizing the bit about the road. His eyes do not show a smile, just ice.

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"Nowhere,\" Coruin boasts all the more, grin brightening, though it fades a moment as he admits, \"I had help. Amralin stabbed one in the face, too.\"

The words from Ceredir draw his attention to the healers and their water-warming fire. \"Do they need wood? I suppose they can have it.\"

[Bor(#30834)] �

\"Lady Amralin is here?\" asks the Swansman, quirking a brow. But he dismisses whatever comes from that question with a pass of his hand.

\"Go, Coruin. See to needs of the healers. You came out of this scrape unscathed, but you will not always be so lucky,\" adds the Bragollach sternly.

\"And calm your tongue about your exploits. It is unbecoming to your station.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)] �

A breeze skirls through the camp, making Morwen shiver as she pokes her sticks into the fire. \"I think that might do it,\" she says to her partner, apparently unaware of the discussion going on behind her. Then she turns her attention to gathering up the buckets needed to carry the water into the pavilions.

[Coruin(#4309)]

\"She\'s with the healers,\" Coruin answers even as Bor dismisses the response. That doesn\'t phase young Coruin, who turns his steps to deliver his wood to the healers on the heels of his knight\'s stern words. And the last? They draw a laugh from him. \"Yes, Hir Bor!\" he answers cheerfully. Perhaps, he even will.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � \"I would like to see the patrol responsible. Least they were all slaughetered, this is not acceptable. And healers hurrying mid-battle to heal people? How does that makes us look like?\"

�� � Gurtir turns to face Bor. \"It is not an outrageous number. But it is a number nonetheless. I agree on moving faster...\" he looks at Ceredir, \"How many there were?\"

\"I will have them report to you, sir. Or the March-Warden will,\" Ceredir nods, watching Bor and Coruin take their leave. \"I don\'t believe they were all killed, but I cannot explain why we had no warning of this attack. Someone was remiss on their duty, it would seem....\"

As for how many came against us...I estimated two dozen sir, or at least two dozen killed. The rest retreated, but likely they will dog our steps now. We must double our watches.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � \"Indeed, Master Scout. I believe this falls down to you and your...brother? As many patrols as we can spare. I will tell my own men to go further in the road both north and south.\"

�� � The Captain thus speaks, shaking his head still, ere glancing around at what still needs to be done at the camp.

\"Thingalad and I? How so, sir? Our patrols should be out there? Thingalad already is, but I can put together a patrol of men and give chase, sir. If that is what you intend?\"

Ceredir now leans down and grabs a handful of dirt, using it to clean off his sword, which is still bloodied and unsheathed.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � \"Yes, whip them out if you can, so word won\'t reach their main camp. Or at least set proper lines of defense and information up!\" Gurtir says, \"I will see that this mess here is cleaned... and tomorrow we move again.\"

\"Aye, sir, I will and right away, sir. Let me get word to the Quatermaster that I will be gone for...as long as it takes, and then find men who are fit to go.\" Ceredir tuns on his heels, getting ready to go, then looks back to Gurtir. \"Sir...your conversation with my brother? Any...progress?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

�� � A sharp nod recieves Ceredir\'s words.

�� � The Scout\'s last question, however, has for answer a headshake from Gurtir. \"No. The endeavour has little chance of success, but we will see how far Thingalad can get...\", he shrugs.

�� � \"We will speak more after you return.\"

�� � Turning then away from the Scout, he beckons a Master at Arms, swift orders passed and swifter actions taking place.