Archive: Rhiforath is Assigned to the Rangers of Ithilien

Febuary 16th, 2001 (Real Life Log Date)  Stables, Minas Tirith, Gondor - Early Morning

A curious aroma, an admixture of manure, straw, and the warm and earthy smell of horses, permeates the air here. The structure is itself encased in aging wood of a motley quality--some planks are new and almost green, others grey with the years. A long hallway runs in an east-west direction, with individual stalls lying to the north, where the various horses are housed. It is noted that the smell of the area becomes particularly vehement in these stalls.

Warm darkness smothers these stables, the inky black broken only by wan pools of yellow-gold lamplight spaced every few paces--sooty lamps which do little to alleviate the overall gloom. But the cloying darkness feels comforting, not ill it is filled with the sounds of horses sleeping, shifting, and munching oats.

[Rhiforath(#28737)] It is late night... or early morning depending on your shift, and a storm is blowing itself out at this hour. Wind rushes and moans through the streets, rain sleets the old stables without, but is soon to die. The late summer season promises the few storms to be brief lived, if violent.

Within the old stable the sound of the storm is muffled. A few of the old windows are still open, admitting bursts of blessedly cooler and fresher air. One of the sections of standing stalls so situated carries a light within as a man stands singly, grooming his pale mare. The desert bred beast seems nervous, ears continously pricking forward, then laying back again as she stamps her feet and frets at her cross ties. The young man with her, still dressed in the uniform of his service, clucks to her and runs a soft brush around her face. Rhiforath speaks quietly to the mare as he calms her, \"Now Fatima, shhh... easy girl. That\'s a good girl.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

One of the stable doors opens with a loud crash, and soon after, it is dragged shut again by a black-cloaked man, water streaming down from his cloak. Eyes under the hood then scan the interrior of the stables before the hood is pulled back, revealing the greying-blonde features of Rorgan.

A face looks up quickly at the sudden crash, the face belonging to Runadan. He is sitting by himself upon a barrel in one of the gloomy corners of the stable. In his hand, a mug steaming with some hot dark liquid. Several feet in front of him, maps are spread out upon a table, left from an earlier strategy counsel. Runadan stands to greet the Captain as he enters, though remains silent.

[Belahir(#21014)] Another crash follows the first as the doors on the other side of the stable are pulled open to admit the ragged form of young Belahir. The scout wears his cloak tightly about him, though he is drenched in spite of the hood that covers his head and face. The hood is pulled down and water is wiped from his eyes. He glances about and first notices Rhiforath. With a grin he walks over to the man and pats him on the back. \"Well, I\'ll be damned. How are you Harad?\"

[Rhiforath(#28737)] The gust of damp air that rushes through the stables at the black cloacked figure\'s entrance sets the few resting and quiet horses to raising their heads and shifting about in their stalls. Those picketed in long lines without their own box stalls actually seem the least disturbed and continue standing asleep. The hot blooded little desert mare in the back is startled and throws up her head. Rhiforath glances back with annoyance and shushes her again, laying his tattooed hand over her near eye and taking a hold of her ear, \"Shhh... it\'s alright. Nobody is going to eat you yet.\" He chuckles and straightens the mare\'s forlock before tossing the brush aside and bending to run his hands over her near front leg. For the moment he shows no sign of noticing who has arrived.

Rhiforath straightens up suddenly, surprised to hear and then see Belahir - the noise of the first door must have covered the sound of the second. The Man-at-Arms momentarily is taken off balance and seems slightly embarassed about something but recovers quickly with thick sarcasm. He snaps,\"Don\'t call me that.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

The cloak is removed from the shoulders of the Captain, and cast aside, over the rail of one of the stables. He takes another glance around the stables and announces, \"Man-at-Arms Rhiforath. Scout Runadan. Scout Belahir. So nice to see that you aren\'t brawling on the floor. I would have a word with the three of you.\"

Turning away, Runadan sets the mug upon the barrel which he has just vacated. He looks at Belahir as he enters, and nods to the man. He walks over to the Captain, still remaining silent.

Belahir smiles and looks as if he was about to reply to Rhif, but when his attention is snapped to the Captain, whom he had not noticed before, his smile fades and whatever he was about to say is kept to himself. Belahir nods to Runadan as he slowly walks over to Rorgan. Somehow the young scout manages a look of innocence as he asks, \"Yes sir?\" as if he had know idea what was coming.

[Rhiforath(#28737)] Patting his mare on the shoulder once more, Rhiforath tarries a moment longer to secure her haynet where the mare can reach it to give her something to do while he is engaged elsewhere. Taking up a wet cloth to wipe the dirt from his hands, he walks over to join the others. When he has come close enough behind Belahir to see Rorgan and his \'on duty\' tone, Rhiforath salutes the other, \"Captain, sir.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Looking directly at Rhiforath, Rorgan asks, \"Why do you take exception to being called a Southron, lad?\"

Runadan turns to watch Rhiforath\'s response, the question taking the scout slightly off guard.

Belahir turns his head towards the Man-at-Arms and observes his face as if trying to gauge the man\'s reaction.

Rhiforath tenses at the unexpected question from this man who is more or less a stranger to him, but not entirely. One might easily imagine the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising as his grey eyes flash with a glint of sudden anger. With only very slight effort, Rhif keeps his voice civil, \"Because, sir, I am -not- Haradrim, or any other kind of Southron. Tattoos and lots of browning in the sun don\'t change my blood.\"  With a jerk of his right hand, he tosses the damp cloth back towards where his horse\'s things are neatly stacked.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

The Captain nods, \"Very well, then. What /are/ you?\"

Runadan turns his face away for a moment, glancing instead at his horse in the corner of the stable.

[Rhiforath(#28737)] Growing annoyed, but keeping his anger in check - used to being baited for years- Rhiforath\'s face smooths slightly as he distances himself and answers automatically, \"-Who- I am is Rhiforath, Man-at-Arms, adopted son of the

late Citadel Commander Ravenwyr of -Gondor-.  My sire was Dunirk Seregon, and my mother the Lady Annaduial, both of House Telumehtar.\" For a breath he looks like he will ask a sarcastic question right back, but he bites down on the thought and watches the other carefully. Absently, he rubs at the thick scars about his wrists.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Gentlemen,\" says Rorgan to the other two, \"/That/ is sufficient for me. Why is it not for you?\"

Rhiforath can\'t help but glance at the other two, and although unasked and risking a berating, he quickly answers, \"Sir, it is also enough for them. We are friends, sir. There was no harm intended - it was just a friendly match, sir.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"That\'s not what word got \'round to me,\" says the Captain, still looking toward the other two men.

Belahir chuckles softly before he can stifle it. He then rubs his nose as if in remembered pain before he answers, \"It is more than sufficient for me, m\'lord. In truth the fight had nothing to do with the man\'s tattooed hide. That question had already been solved. \'Twas a friendly match.\" He replies the same time as Rhiforath.

Runadan turns back to face Rorgan as he is addressed. \"Those that stumbled upon the scene found only the tail end of what occured. Although they were fighting, it was a matter of respect, not anger.\" Belahir looks at the captain directly as he says, \"Sir, there was another man involved. The scene truly did not turn ugly until the end of the fight, when this man attacked Man-at-Arms Rhiforath. Until that time, the match was to relieve the tension of the day. An orc had been killed in

the camp earlier, and most men were ready for some kind of break.\"

Rhiforath stands quietly, saying nothing more and having placed his own hands behind his back to stand at a relaxed but alert pose of attention as he listens to the others. Only his eyes bely his following the conversation as he glances at each man and waits.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"I see...\" says Rorgan thoughtfully. \"Insomuch as it is good to see you men sticking together, I intend to insure that your words are true to the oaths you have spoken.\"

\"Man-at-Arms Rhiforath, your tattoos do not allow you the luxury of any laxness in your service to the Steward. This includes participating in any fisticuffs outside the designated sparring areas and under the supervision of your superriors. Since this matter seems also to have grown outside the scope of a fight for respect rather than a wanton brawl in the camp of the army of the Steward, this is the doom that I decree upon the three of you:\"

\"Man-at-Arms Rhiforath is to be taken in with your unit, Runadan, and taught

your ways. He will be my ear in the desert, as you shall be my eyes. Is this understood?\"

[Rhiforath(#28737)] The Man-at-Arms discussed seems slightly ... perplexed and uneasy. He glances at Runadan, and for the moment, continues to hold his tongue in silence. Rhif looks to Belahir\'s face to see if either of them give away any information to enlighten him.

Runadan looks from to the Captain to Rhiforath, and back. \"Understood, Sir.\" He looks confused as well, but speaks nothing of it.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"As for you two scouts, I have no further authority in your punishment at the hands of Faramir, other than to speak your side of the story with you. This I will do for you, if Man-at-Arms Rhiforath leaves the desert on his feet,\" the Captain adds in but another moment.

Belahir raises an eyebrow in surprise, but his features betray little else. He nods slowly as the Captain promises to speak to Faramir. He looks slightly relieved.

\"This I will guarantee you Captain, both for my sake and for Rhiforath\'s,\" answers the Master Scout.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

As if to explain to the confused men standing before him, the

Captain pushes up his own sleeves, revealing the same thick shackle-scars that are borne by Rhiforath. He says, \"Captives generally learn the language of their captors.\"

[Rhiforath(#28737)] As the conversation continues, Rhiforath now can hold his question no longer, \"Desert, sir? You are -not- going to send me back, are you sir? The Narakshi... eh, some of that tribe are likely still holding something personal against me, sir.\" And then of more import he adds, \"I\'m not being transfered to the Scouts, am I sir?\" However, as Rorgan himself raises his hands and pushes up his own sleeves, the questions die on the young man\'s lips. He instead glances uneasily back at the blond officer\'s face and studies him again.

Belahir smiles then, percieving the Captain\'s intent and the usefulness of it. Though Rorgan has little need of it, Belahir nods his approval and says, \"Wise indeed sir. He will prove invaluable to us in the desert.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Your goal is to learn the /ways/ of the scouts, Rhiforath,\" says the Captain. \"It is not my intent to transfer you out of my

command so easily. Rather, I would make use of your full talents. And if the tribesmen are holding something against you, then I guess you\'ll have to work all the harder with the scouts here, at learning to remain unseen.\"

To calm the sun darkened man, Runadan answers \"Fear not Rhiforath, we shall be able to keep you well hidden from the Southrons, even deep in their own territory. In exchange, you will help us where my knowledge fails me.\"

Rhiforath licks his thin lips and glances at the others, then back to the Captain, \"Sir, actually, because of these tattoos, I can pass among the Narakshi as one of them. But... there is one particular sub chieftain it would be best to avoid. May I inquire -where- we would be going, or is that prudent to ask at this time?\" Runadan\'s supportive comment doesn\'t seem to make much difference in Rhiforath\'s concern, but he does flash the other man a faint smile to reassure that man not to be worried on his behalf.

Belahir nods in agreement with Runadan, \"Indeed, the Southrons will be hard pressed to find you when you are in our care. But if my bruised jaw is any indication, I doubt we will be needing to ward you much.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Not so far South as you might think, Rhiforath, but near the Crossings of the Poros lies our goal,\" replies the Captain. \"By the South Road shall our men go, and we shall build there a fortress for the Prince Imrahil to use to watch over the Southern marches of our lands.\"

[Rhiforath(#28737)] Listening, but not eager to reveal too much, Rhiforath is silent a long moment at this information. Then he glances at the others and then back to the officer, \"Captain, is this a good place

to speak frankly? I think there is something you, and the Prince, should know about the Poros Crossing that could save you alot of trouble and effort, not to mention lives.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Speak, then,\" says Rorgan, \"For I have already entrusted you three with my life.\"

Belahir raises an eyebrow towards the man-at-arms but says nothing.

Runadan listens to Rhiforath patiently, though his face shows some irritation at the southener\'s questioning of his skills.

[Rhiforath(#28737)] Distinctly not pleased at the prospect of speaking freely here, in a stable, but mindful that it is an obscenely early morning hour during a storm, Rhiforath turns and paces a few steps as  he struggles to gather his thoughts. He glances time and again at the others, attempting to weight what he should or should not say. Finally he stops and looks at

Rorgan levelly, \"Have you considered approaching the Chieftain of the Narakshi tribe to speak with him? The man is known to me... as well as others of his kinfolk. He has no love for Umbar and far less for Mordor. I think that this man -could- potentially be a powerful and useful allie that has, up to now, been wasted and ignored. He has helped Gondor before in the past... and he is a very powerful man of Harad.\"

Runadan\'s jaw actually drops at Rhiforath\'s suggestion. Trying to remain silent, he fails at the attempt, nearly shouting \"You want us to keep you hidden and you would suggest _Talking_ with the enemy?\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"I had suggested the same strategy to the Prince,\" says the Captain, \"though without the inteligence to back it up, he did not agree that it would be a useful tactic. Myself, I believe that even if peace were to be but a ploy on the part of the chieftan to save some of his own hide, and it gives us time to complete works there, then it is a useful tool. You shall come with me when I breach this subject with him again.\"

Belahir, who knows little of the inner workings and structure of the Harad, tenses slightly at the mention of an alliance. However, he knows enough to know that when he is ignorant on a subject he should keep his mouth shut, and that is just what he does.

Rhiforath stops and looks back at Runadan cooly, and is about to answer, when the Captain speaks. The tattooed Man-at-Arms listens carefully but is still tense with the subject at hand. Then Rhiforath nods his head slightly and speaks in a low voice to Rorgan, \"I would be pleased to do so, Sir. I know I can speak with the man, though he is dangerous. I do not believe that he would support any structure at the Poros river where he own people summer, but... there are wide grasslands north of that river that almost no one ever travels. As to Leuthyn himself, I do not doubt that he would be eager to gain any benefit for his own, but keep in mind that his own sire was a Dunadane Ranger of Ithilien. He would be more willing to treat honestly with you, if you treat him with honesty and respect, than he would with most in Umbar or any in Mordor.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"If the East has no friend in him, then perhaps he can be swayed,\" says Rorgan. \"But we need speak no more of this now, or here. Get yourself cleaned up and presentable. All of you. We go to speak to the Prince.\"

Runadan calms as Rorgan speaks, though he shakes his head still. He lets the matter drop, turning from Rhiforath to gather his own supplies and find some dry clothes.

[Rhiforath(#28737)] Still tense and uncomfortable, and perhaps more so with the turn of events as concerns the Prince of Dol Amroth in the imediate future, Rhiforath nods almost absently and turns vaguely back to his mare. With thoughts far from this place, he turns back and salutes the Captain, then purposefully goes back to the Narakshi horse to put his things away. Picking up his pack, he sets it upright and begins to dig about for clean cloth to wash with.