The States of the Dwarves

[Thari(#31038)]

The dwarven camp has been moved despite the masses of injuries, moved away from where the dwarves knew the enemy was. For some reason a knoll where an old dwarven grave was seemed... friendler, as if the memory of the fallen would protect those who still live.

Low lanterns burn, just enough to give a hint of light in the darkness. Thari\'s arm has been splinted and bandaged, but the healer\'s breathing is still rough, bubbling. Despite this, the shorter dwarf is trying to climb out of a wagon.

[Lithiugelir(#27282)]

The tall, dark haired harper has been very quiet since the battle. He looks to Ranol mostly for directions on how to be of greatest assistance. Gathering wood, washing and boiling bandages, drying and rolling them, crushing herbs, whatever needs doing. Lithiugelir is trying to be helpful.

But also, the man is only lightly hurt. So it falls to him and a few others to keep a wary watch on the world around them. The Dunadan is at such a watch now, leaning very lightly against his long bow. He looks out into the darkness, listening.

Ranol has been run ragged trying to help his injured companions and stay on top of his normal duties as Huskarl. Next to Eirdis, he\'s one of the only dwarves that isn\'t badly hurt with any medical training (and barely any at that). He\'s going through the camp, making sure the guards are where they\'re supposed to be, when he spies his cousin struggling to step out of the wagon. \"Thari! What are you doing??\" He demands as he rushes over.

[Gunnarr(#24380)] Gunnarr\'s body is in a wagon along with two of his comrads. The young warder is still unconscious, his breathing only a little less ragged than before. There is a thick and somewhat clumsily done bandage on his right shin and a heavy amount of bandageing in addition to a splint on his left foot. His head is also bound with bandages. His forehead is a nasty shade of purple and his jaw appears to be broken. All in all he is a mess. Despite the bandages, it is apparent that he hasn\'t totally stoped bleading from his head. It is probably a blessing the this dwarf is still unconscience for all the pain he would be in.

Mobeorn has, at last, returned to the camp, having been missing since before the start of the battle the previous night. He seems to be unhurt as he approaches, nodding to the harper as he heads that man\'s way.

The huge black bear that fought the previous night is nowhere to be found.

[Thari(#31038)]

\"Who\'ve been looking after the men?\" Thari snaps, and the healer\'s voice is rough and sickly, and despite the spirit the dwarf sounds tired. \"Help me, Ranol, let me look at them.\" A stumbling step to the ground and Thari leans against the side of the wagon.

[Immin(#32030)]

Old Forkedbeard himself, otherwise known as Immin, appears amid the group of dwarves. The warder looks quite resilient and undamaged by events, though his dwarf eyes glower like coals waiting to be breathed upon and brought to life once more. He holds in the crook of his arm a war axe, still stained black with the blood of his deceased enemies.

\"Eirdis has.. You need to rest.\" Ranol answers, but moves over to the stumbling healer to offer aid. \"Everyone has been looked after.\" True.. but have they been -well- looked after?

[Lithiugelir(#27282)]

Lithiugelir inclines his head in greeting to Mobeorn as that man returns. Pale grey eyes slip over the Beorning critically, seeking evidence of wounds... \"Welcome back, friend.\" The harper greets quietly.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari leans against Ranol, breathing wetly. The rasping in-and-out of breath grates on the ears. \"Let me look at them. Tie my sling a bit higher, bring a lantern, and take me to the worst injured, please.\" The little healer sounds determined.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin pats his axe and then fingers the blade to see if it retains its edge. His fingers brush over a small notch and he hisses, remembering the exact moment when he notched the axe, cutting an orc in two and hitting a rock beneath. He frowns and shrugs before stepping forward to assist in the helping of the wounded along with Thari and Ranol.

Ranol frowns, considering refusing the request. He stares at Thari for a long moment, blue eyes trying to judge whether the risk is worth it. Finally, he sighs. \"Fine.\" First the huskarl attends to the sling, retying it, then he leaves Thari for the moment to go collect a lantern, nodding to Immin as he passes.

[Mobeorn(#22365)] If there is a wound on the Beorning man, it\'s not to be seen. His dark brown eyes scan the camp, lingering on the wounded and especially on Thari. \"The dwarf is up,\" Mobeorn murmurs, then looks to the harper. \"Dark things last night. Cold and dark and blinding, piercing the heart with fear. I\'m surprised any are alive at all.\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari leans against the wagon again, head on the soothing wooden boards. Grey eyes follow Ranol and linger for a moment on Immin. The healer gives him a weak smile, a bit of blood painting lips red.

[Lithiugelir(#27282)]

Shifting his weight slightly, the harper nods once, \"Aye.\" But he says nothing to elaborate on ... well, some of it shouldn\'t be mentioned out loud too readily anyway, perhaps. Not while still in this cursed wood. Lith turns his head to glance back at the dwarves whom he has been trying to assist. The back of his right shoulder is still bloody, though now dried. His harpcase and quiver case took most of Grot\'s ferocious blow.

\"They are very hardy, tough folk. Rather amazing.\"

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin slings his large war axe to his back and walks forward to the healer. \"You require assistance? Others can see to themselves in this time of danger.\"

Ranol returns after a few moments, distracted by someone asking him a question. The bobbing lantern light marks his return and rubs his eyes for a moment, then looks around with a stressed expression. \"Frarin is bad, but you should see to Gunnarr first. He is.. very poor. He hasn\'t woken since last night. I don\'t know what to do, Eirdis was unsure.\" The Huskarl of Bundazanul looks to Immin, \"Can you hold this, and I will help Thari move?\" He holds out the lantern, and if Immin agrees he\'ll move to support the healer again.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin accepts the lantern and holds it high over his head to provide light as he is able.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari tilts against Ranol. The healer\'s face is still dark with dried blood and the nose is swollen wide, but has at least been set, it looks like. \"Frarin still bleeding?\" the shorter dwarf asks while allowing Ranol to guide toward Gunnarr, walking unsteadily. \"Fevered?\"

\"Fevered? Ahh.. I\'m not sure. I didn\'t think to-..\" Ranol sighs again, shaking his head. He hasn\'t slept since the battle and it\'s beginning to show. With so many injured and such a real threat still out there, it would be a wonder if any have managed any rest. He guides Thari to where the warder lays, still unconscious.

[Mobeorn(#22365)] Another glance around the camp--Mobeorn\'s expression is grim. \"Rest a while if you\'d like,\" he tells Lith. \"I\'ll keep watch on the perimeter for now. And later, if you like, we can talk about the High Pass.\" He turns, meaning to head out into the surrounding forest.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari leans against the side of the wagon where Gunnarr lies now. The healer weakly attempts to climb in and then doubles over, wheezing louder. A coughing fit hits, making Thari grip Ranol\'s tunic hard. Blood spats against the road.

\"Ranol,\" gasps the short healer. \"Immin. Lift me up lads.\"

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin sets aside the lantern and positions himself behind Thari. He puts a hand under Thari\'s arm and one at his bottom and prepares to lift with all the agility of a dwarf who has seen his share of time at the anvil or in the mining shafts of his home.

Ranol\'s eyes widen when Thari doubles over and the huskarl hurries to offer extra support. \"You shouldn\'t be out of bed..\" He says in a tone heavy with concern. Then Ranol moves to heft the smaller dwarf up on the other side. \"Slowly, Immin.. Gently..\" He cautions.

[Lithiugelir(#27282)]

Lithiugelir nods to Mobeorn yet again, very tired himself. He smiles a little, and turns indeed to go over towards the dwarves to see what they are up to and if he might be of any help. But he pauses, watching Ranol and another assisting one of their own and ... rather busy with Thari.

The tall man frowns but says nothing to interrupt, concerned.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin displays his doughty determination as he delivers with deliberate dexterity Thari to the level of the wagon.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari lands half-across Gunnarr\'s feet with a thick whimper of pain which is quickly turned into a less-humilating grunt. A little while is spent there, breathing quickly and wetly, eyes squeezed shut, skin blanched against the hurt. And then the healer begins to crawl up, to be beside the gravely-wounded warder. \"Mahal.\"

[Gunnarr(#24380)] Gunnarr stirrs a little as the shorter dwarf lands against his already crumpled foot. His eyes flick open briefly but shut almost as soon as they open. A low, soft moan can possibly be heard if someone is just near the warder. Suddenly there is a brief bubleing at the mouth and then a choak as a river of blood flows from his lips.

\"Tell me what you need, cousin.. We will get it.\" Ranol answers, leaning against the wagon with a weariness to him. \"We tried to get water in him, but.. \" He scrubs his hand through his short-cropped hair, at a loss.

Another dwarf approaches, Gimal, one of the guards of Bundazanul, \"Captain.. we must speak.\" He says in a low voice, and Ranol looks to Immin, \"Can you help Thari?\" the huskarl requests, then moves off to speak with Gimal.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin nods and fetches the lantern. He slides it into the wagon so there is light for Thari to see and then he slides in after the other dwarf to assist him in treating the injured one. \"What do you need?\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari rubs a sleeve against Gunnarr\'s mouth. \"His wounds need binding.\" The healer\'s rasping words are succinct and weary. \"Water to wash him and...\" a glance over the dwarf. \"Splints. These are in the second cupboard to the left in my wagon. Also elf-wine to wash him with. Small bottle remaining.\"

[Lithiugelir(#27282)]

Mostly ignored by the dwarves, the Dunadan moves on from his watching. There is little or nothing he can do to assist with healer\'s concerns. But he can collect more wood, keep the fire going, fetch water, tend to the ponies, and keep watch.

But for now, perhaps it is best that he get some rest himself. Mobeorn is out there keeping watch now.

The harper finds a place to sit down and settle himself. He leans his bow against a tree and begins to remove his harpcase, quiver, small pack, etc. Another glance at the dwarves. He would play his harp to try and ease the pain of those who are wounded, but for now, the man is just too tired. Perhaps a little rest, first.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin fetches all these things and returns swiftly.

[Thari(#31038)]

When Immin returns, Thari is laying on the floor of the wagon besides Gunnarr, just trying to breathe. \"Can\'t do it,\" she says. \"Straighten his leg and bind it, Immin. Wash him, bandage him. Do your best.\"

Ranol returns, a grim expression on his face. He looks in at what\'s being done, the concern returning. \"Is there anything to be done for him?\" He asks, rubbing at the edge of a bandage tightly wrapping his right hand.

[Voland(#24011)]

A loud *clank* can be heard as Voland jumps off of the wagon he was resting on and lands his legs, one metal and one meat, onto a largish stone. He stretches his arms and yawns loudly, and smiles his strange, crooced-silly grin. He starts to walk, twords the helears, for no particualar reason and starts singing a silly song. He continues like until he abruptly stops, suddenly seeing/remembering the condition of the camp.

\"Oh, that was quite Ungood of me... or double-ungood I should say\" mutters the oddball dwarf, his grin suddenly dissapearing

[Immin(#32030)]

\"Uhhhh. I\'ve bound some books. Binding a leg, how different can that be?\" Immin shrugs and sets to work.

[Gunnarr(#24380)] Gunnarr\'s head turns back and forth and lets out a fresh set of weak moans. His head feels like it has been split open. The dwarf is too weak to form words and his vision remains so blurrey that he can\'t see anything. His eyes remain open however though he seems on the brink of losing consciousness at any moment. The moans grow slightly louder as Immin takes hold of his leg and there is a pitiful attempt at resisting the dwarf manipulating his leg. He coughs, issuing forth anouther fountain of blood.

[<#32030>]

Immin curses under his breath, barely audible, \" Damn, she has to pass out /now/... Mahal! This one\'s going to limb for sure...\"

\"Cousin..\" Ranol says in a sudden warning tone, his blue eyes looking around sharply, checking to see who is near. \"We share our camp with Beornings.. watch what you speak. Do you need help with that?\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari\'s eyes suddenly snap open and the girl\'s head lifts a bit. \"Ranol? Ranol, his mouth... \" she nods toward Gunnarr, where he recently coughed up a river of blood.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin frowns. \"He must be bled. His humors are upset.\"

[Voland(#24011)]

glad that his blundering went unnoticed, Voland walks slowly over to the company. \"Oh dear\" says he \"this certainly does not look well at all! Is there-may I-helping?\"

Ranol pulls himself up onto the wagon, moving gingerly among the two wounded to see what Thari speaks of. When he spots all the blood that Gunnarr is coughing up, he reaches down to tilt the dwarf a bit on his side so that he won\'t choke. \"What do I do?\" He asks, eyes seeking Thari\'s. Then Immin speaks and he glances at the other in confusion.

[Gunnarr(#24380)] As if in response to Immin\'s request a large pool of blood starts appearing on Gunnarr\'s chest. The dwarf spurts a little more blood out of his mouth and groans, this time his groan sounds slightly louder and stronger than before. His eyes stay open and he seems to be trying to speak.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin props up Gunnarr in a valiant effort to keep his fellow dwarf from choking on his own blood.

[Thari(#31038)]

\"Don\'t touch his humors,\" Thari snaps, then coughs hard in payment for her showing of spirit. The healer-dwarf doubles over beside Gunnarr and finally wheezes, \"Just wash him, Durin!\" Her eyes are rolling as if trying not to pass out. \"Voland! Water!\"

Ranol\'s just looking up to see if Voland is listening, but the cooky dwarf has wandered off before hearing Thari. \"I\'ll get it.\" The huskarl says, climbing out of the wagon again carefully and going to collect water and clean bandages.

[Frarin(#31050)] Propped up again the side of the wagon is Frarin and he is awake. He is swathed in bandages, bulky about his right shoulder and arm, and right leg, and the right side of his face. He holds his right hand cradled against his chest. Indeed, half of the silversmith seems fully bandaged, but his left side is almost entirely untouched. And he is awake. His head is pressed against the wood behind him and he looks sleepy, but he watches the goings on almost pensively, either too tired or too out of it to make any comment as of yet.

As he\'s returning with the supplies, Ranol pauses for a moment by Frarin when he notices the silversmith is awake. \"Do you need anything?\" He asks, then adds quickly, \"Thari is no worse than before.. I cannot say if she is better, but I believe so.\"

[Gunnarr(#24380)]

\"...Hus.....ere?\" comes so faintly that none can most likely here it. Gunnarr coughs up blood again though much less this time. The dwaf\'s eyes dart around though he is still so out of it that he cannot make out any of the blurry shapes around him. His leg starts to shake a little along with his arms. His breathing starts to become faster and more ragged.

[Immin(#32030)]

Immin finishes his work and crawls out of the wagon, his clothing soaked in blood and gore.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin blinks sluggishly at Ranol for a second, then shakes his head, waving the huskarl away with his good left hand. But he seems to reconsider. \"R-Roll...\" The silversmith makes a rolling motion with his left hand, then points weakly at Gunnarr, dark eyes only tired as they watch the critically injured warder. \"Him.\" The left hand gestures towards his throat. \"Ch-choke...He\'ll...choke.\" He taps his lips, as if to imitate the blood coughing up from Gunnarr\'s mouth.

\"P-put...arm...under...\" Frarin makes more gestures, indicating as best he can the recovery position, though it might be difficult to interpret, given his one-handed gestures and ragged breaths between speech. \"Open...\" Tapping the throat. \"Th-the...air...way.\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari, who has been lying on the wagon-bed near Gunnarr and who seems to be passed out again, opens eyes as Frarin speaks. The healer\'s head turns to the other side, nose swollen, looking surprised. Breathing still sounds rough and bubbling.

\"Aye, Frarin.. Immin has.. it.. \" Ranol realizes that Immin has left, probably to fetch something else for Thari. He leaves Frarin and goes to assist Gunnarr. First he turns him better, to be sure the blood he\'s coughing up won\'t drown him. Then the huskarl dips one of the towels into the small bucket of water he brought and begins washing the blood away.

[Gunnarr(#24380)] Gunnarr can\'t make out anything that is being said around him, though he does realize that he is being moved. He can breath a bit easier. Some blood that was trapped in his mouth begins to ooze out of the the side of his mouth, but he does not cough again. Aside from his headach and the pains from his foot he is numbed by the medicine given to him the day before to the pains of his other injuries. The pool at his chest is still expanding however where spike splinters are still imbedded in his flesh under his tunic and armor.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin nods weakly and blinks slowly again, turning away. But his sluggish gaze meets Thari\'s and his eyes open wider. He almost looks to be forcing himself into focusing. \"Th-Thar...i.\" His fingers crawl across the wagon floor towards Thari, but he is some distance yet from the healer and he settles for that vaguely stretched out arm, though he does manage, even in his condition, to maintain a fraction of his former manner.

\"S-stop...Stop...\" he murmurs towards Thari, weakly shaking a finger at her. His voice is still rough and very low. \"You\'re...t-tired. Lay...lay...d-down. B-by...D-D-Dur...in.\"

\"Easy there.. \" Ranol says softly, methodically wiping the blood away even as it dribbles from Gunnarr\'s mouth. Finally he notices the blood soaking the warder\'s chest and the huskarl reaches to draw a small knife from his belt. He cuts away the shirt, sucking in a breath when he sees the wound. How did they miss that the night before?

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari smiles at last, lips stained slightly bloody. She looks back to Ranol. \"Thank you, cousin,\" she rasps, trying to pull herself up to her knees. Her eyes linger on Gunnarr\'s chest. \"Bind it.\" She is still succinct, every word seeming a pain to her. \"Wash, sew.\"

Thari edges closer to Frarin, toward his hand. She touches the bandages on his head, his cheek. \"I can\'t do anything,\" she whispers, a lower breath coming easier to her. She coughs wetly and lies down on the wagon bed again. \"So many hurt, Frarin.\" She sounds miserable.

[Gunnarr(#24380)] Gunnarr\'s close once the chest is opened and a new wave of pain pushes accrosse his body. He cannot help but groan again as he feels the affects of Ranol washing and stitching his wound. Nausea soon returns and this time he vomits a nasty mixture of bile and blood. His eyes shut and he succombs to the pain and loses conscienceness.

Ranol nods at Thari\'s instructions. He dunks the towel into the bucket of already discolored water, and then he carefully washes the seeping blood on Gunnarr\'s chest. It\'s too dim to see metal splinters in the dwarf\'s skin but he tries his best to stitch up what he can. Then he thoroughly looks Gunnarr over for any other wounds that might have been missed, tired but determined to do what he can.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"N-no...body...will...get...b-better...if you...\" Frarin takes a shaky breath, clearing his throat. \"P-p-pass...out.\" He glances around at Gunnarr, blinking sluggishly at the warder, then lolling his head back towards Thari. He winces at her touch, for beneath the bandages around his head the skin is ragged and torn by the violent pressure of Frarin\'s chain mail coif the night before.

But he reaches out, not even pausing for propriety, and fingers the blood beginning to stain Thari\'s lips. Despite his weariness, a light of concern comes into his eyes. \"Y-you...inside...\" He gestures vaguely towards his stomach. \"You..are...b-bleeding?\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari\'s head drops to the boards of the wagon, her eyes drooping for a moment. \"Ribs,\" she rasps. \"Like you.\" Her eyes open again and her hand goes to test other bandages, caring not for propriety as she weakly tugs and prods. \"Ranol?\"

Ranol looks up from wiping up the excess blood on the wagon floor. \"Yes?\" He asks, his tone weary.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"Breathe,\" Frarin orders Thari abruptly, though the gutteral voice he uses is hardly commanding. He gives her an urging gesture. \"Bre-breathe.\" He looks very tired now, as if talking is too much of an effort, but he watches Thari intently, even through half closed eyes.

[Thari(#31038)]

\"Ranol?\" Thari says, exhausted now. \"Sorry. Frarin?\" Each word is a breath, a pained one. \"Can... you see to him...?\" Her lashes wet again, darker shadows in the night, and her hand rests against his unhurt cheek as she starts to go limp-- that hand a hot coal.

\"Yes.. I\'ll look at his wounds, just rest.\" Poor dwarves. It\'s sad that Ranol is the best they have for doctoring right now. He finishes up with the floorboards, then slides over next to the silversmith and begins checking the various bandages that hide rather sloppy stitches. He doesn\'t have the gentlest touch, since he\'s working with his off-hand, but he tries not to cause Frarin any more pain than he has to.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"Y--y--you...\" Frarin is weakly shaking his finger at Thari again and seems to be forming a thought, but he doesn\'t seem to be able to manage. He shakes his head sluggishly at Ranol and waves as if there is something in front of his face. He looks almost as if drunk. \"\'M...f-fine. L-leave...off. R--r--est.\" His muttering is becoming worse and and his head is sagging, eyes flickering closed.

He jerks up, growling as Ranol obliges Thari and begins to check the sloppy bandages and stitches. But Frarin is only muttering to himself, eyes closed, head hanging down, as if vastly tired. When the gruesome shoulder wound is checked, the silversmith does give a weak \"Stop!\" and jerks again, but then he has fallen asleep completely, all worry about being fussed over and about worrying over Thari forgotten to sleep.