Of Fish and Men

[Arashen(#24692)]

Another starless and moonless night has passed its zenith. There are still hours of darkness ahead and the unease and battle it brings to those still hale enough to patrol. The ever thinning Gondorian forces are now pushed to the old gates of Osgiliath fallen - the edge of Pelannor is but a few hours march away.

Joining hunger, fatigue and the foul beasts of the east is another enemy of these valiant men - cold. Autumn is advancing and the nights grow colder. No fires can be lit in the night.

The camp, such as it is at this hour, consists mainly of a few wounded and what paltry supplies still exist. A few men guard these scant treasures companions and goods, both. In the distance, hideous howls pierce the night air as well as the occasional clash of steel whether between the men of Gondor and their enemies or between the every quarrelsome foes themselves, is unknown.

Huddled near a jumble of fallen masonry - Arashen uses the ruins to break the wind. His wounded leg is stretched out before him and his watchful eyes rest vigilantly upon the rubble to the east.

Long distance to Gurtir: Ceredir grins. I tend to piss people off because I reallyd o push it

Leaning on rubble but standing, Ceredir is some paces away from the Squire, though close enough to talk quietly. The Scout squints into the darkness, trying to track the sounds with his eyes, though the expression on his face clearly indicates his frustration in doing so. \"Another cursed night,\" he sighs quietly. \"How many more?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

A Ranger comes towards the centre of this that is being called the camp of the resistance, a pair of men with him. Gurtir. They are weary and grim, wounded even. But still watching the perimeter.

\"Faramir will come.\" he replies to Ceredir, the tired tone in his voice balanced by the hopeful glint of his eyes, \"Remember that when we left the city, he was going to Lord Boromir. We must but endure a little longer...\"

\"How is your leg, Arashen?\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"It heals, sir as well as it can.\" Arashen replies. He lifts his left arm and rotates his shoulder carefully - wincing slightly, but completing the circle. \"I think I\'ll be able to hold a shield again in another day or two.\"

\"Sir, I have a request.\"

\"Evening, sir.\" Ceredir half turns to the Ranger, the Scout reluctant to tear his gaze from the horizon. He does look away, though, first to Gurtir and then to Arashen.

\"I cannot boil water to get the wounded clean bandages,\" he notes quietly. \"Not without a fire...and fires will drw the enemy.\" The words are simply a statement, though, and Ceredir instead now looks to Arashen.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The Ranger nods, examining the squire\'s movimentation carefully, \"I have been keeping an eye out for the herbs that ease pain during patrols, but they do not grow this side of the river at this time of the year, unfortunatedly. But speak your piece.\"

Then he turns to Ceredir, \"What do you propose?\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"I want to be put on simple sentry duty during the day,\" Arashen says. \"I know I can\'t fight yet, my leg won\'t hold my weight and while the enemy has attacked during the day before, it is less frequent. I want to be put on sentry duty during the day so another man can rest. My eyes are still sharp and I don\'t need to run to alert the camp should I see anything.\"

Ceredir holds his answer to the Ranger until Arashen speaks. \"I could do that as well, sir,\" he offers. \"It doesn\'t involve breaking the Captain\'s ban and I would be relieving wounded soldiers.\"

\"As to the bandages...if they are not changed, then infection will set in, and...\" The Scout leaves that unsaid. \"Two things, then: A fire at midday, watched carefully so as not to smoke. Or...if a party can make it out to the river to fish, a fire there to boil the bandages.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

For a long while, the Ranger looks down on the Squire, listening to his request, \"I see some sense in this you ask, but I disagree. You would have to run from your sentry position if indeed there was an attack or you would be the first to be caught by an approaching force.\"

To Ceredir then, \"I like the fishing idea. Two problems solved with one measure. Even better if that fire is started at midday as well and watched carefully, as you said. I will see that you be scorted by two men... for any eventuality.\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

The squire slumps a bit against his rock, clearly disappointed. \"Yes, sir,\" he says, his voice tired.

He shifts uncomfortably, and falls silent as the Ranger and scout work out a plan for fish and fire.

\"Yes sir,\" Ceredir answers, the Scout\'s gaze turning inward as he starts working out the details of this already. In the weeks they have been here, the ban on fighting has at least allowed Ceredir to develop something of a talent for organizing and making do with what little they have.

The Scout then looks up to Gurtir with a wry grin. \"THe same fire will have to serve to cook whatever fish we catch. Unless you would like raw fish?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The disappointment in the Squire\'s face does not go unnoticed by the Ranger, who speaks while waiting for Ceredir, \"I did not forbid you. I merely point out the flaw in your planning. If your offer, even bordering sacrifice in case of attack, still stands, I will acquiese and bow my head at you.\"

Ceredir\'s words bring but a weary grin to Gurtir\'s lips, \"Cook what you can, bring the rest as you may. Beggars can\'t be choosers.\"

\"How is Sir Bor?\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"Thank you, sir,\" Arashen replies, solemnly. The squire glances to the sleeping Knight ere answering the Ranger. \"He is alive, but no well. He slips in and out of a delirious fever. He needs a proper healer.\"

\"I will go at first light, then\" Ceredir answers to the Ranger, \"with the men you choose. As for Sir Bor....\" Ceredir glances toward the center of camp, then shakes his head.

\"He fares poorly, sir,\" he says, agreeing with the Squire. Though he was actually in somewhat of a strange mood when I spoke with him last. Actually joked with me, of all people, which is out of character for him.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"If he is in fever, see to it that wet clothes be put on his forehead to help lowering the temperature. It might just buy him some time.\", Gurtir answers to both men, an unwavering certainty in his eyes, though to such an extent mixed with tiredness that perhaps its glint bears even some fanatic quality, \"Until Faramir comes. We must but endure. We have held so long... just a little more so our sacrifices don\'t be wasted.\"

He sighs, regarding Arashen with a last respectful glance, \"Good luck, Arashen.\", then, turning on his heels, \"I will pick your men, Ceredir.\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

Arashen simply inclines his head to the Ranger before he departs, and watches until the man disappears into the night.

Turning to Ceredir, he asks: \"Why is it strange Sir Bor made a jest with you? Do you know one another?\"

\"Not strange at all,\" Ceredir says. He has turned back to watch the perimeter again, shifting to lean against the rubble. \"You could say we have met. And we do not like each other. For whatever reasons.\" The Scout shrugs, then rubs his neck, a glint of something silver about it very briefly.

[Arashen(#24692)]

Laughing mirthlessly, Arashen shifts and begins the process of rising. \"I suspect that is a common response where Sir Bor is concerned,\" he says, lowering his voice.

Leaning against the pile of rubble, the squire favors his injured leg. \"Will you see if you can find me a walking stick at the river, Ceredir?\"

\"Makes you wonder, no? Why the man is so...\" Ceredir frowns, though, trying to pick out the right descriptor and failing. \"Bor-ish,\" he settles for. Then the Scout pushes away from the rubble. \"I will, Arashen. But I\'d better get things together now if I\'m to be ready by dawn.\" Turning, he walks now toward the center of this makeshift camp.