A Boar Hunt

[Arathis(#30050)]

A fair dawn has begun to pale the Marble City, casting as much as pulling light from its white stone. The skies lessen in their darkness slowly, rumors of life sound from Imrahil\'s haven.

Before the bannered gates gathers the hunting party of the Lord Isilrim. He, a trio of dogs, and his steed, are the first among them, set in waiting against the twilight.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Not long at all for another to join: Sir Menelglir, clad for the hunt, riding a plain brown mare that nonetheless sidesteps this way and then in excited anticipation of the foray. Unlike his steed, the young knight displays no nervous energy outwardly--a fist to his chest greets the Herald, along with words, tone respectful of the hour. \"Hail, Hir Isilrim. The morning shows her fair face well this day.\"

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir is there also, sitting his horse quietly as he rides up behind Menelglir and salutes, but says nothing beyond, \"Good morning, sir.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]

And the palomino mare, just shy of a canter, bounces in. The Lady Calenloth is perched side-saddle, though awkwardly, as if the position upsets her balance, with a basket tied along the saddle. Pulling up upon the reins, the animal slows, and Calenloth leans backward, pulling one knee back over atop the saddle.

\"Menelglir,\" she greets one Knight with a smile, a polite nod to the Herald, and she holds silent.

Nearby, Lominzil sits still on a dappled grey charger, the horse as well-controlled as her rider. The crosstrees of a spear bristle over his back, and a long knife hangs at his belt. He bears no sheen of armor as before beneath his clothing a splint and sling, bound to his chest, replace it.

[Calardan(#30834)]

Calardan joins the hunting party as well, riding in from between the gates of the Prince\'s city. A bow is strapped to his back for the occasion.

\"Brothers,\" he says to the Swansmen among, before tilting his head towards the Nimothan, \"And Lady Calenloth. Today smells a fine day for our purpose.\"

[Arathis(#30050)]

\"Good,\" says Arathis singly to both Menelglir and Calenloth.

He retrieves a spear and points it towards Lominzil, looking between he and his knight. \"Your arm heals quickly then?\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Good morning, Lady, Hir, Squires.\" Menelglir addresses all in one breath. His sword is at his hip as always, but a wrapped bundle that he carries--and quiver--are at the ready for the hunt. \"We travel far, Hir Arathis?\"

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir glances up at Calenloth\'s arrival and nods to her his eyes going beyond to Calardan and Lominzil. And his hair is indeed trimmed, though as always, it refuses neatness. He looks back to Arathis at Menelglir\'s question.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

And a friendly, yet cordial greeting to those arriving behind, Calenloth draws the reins close. Unarmed, it seems, but netting peeks below the rim of the basket. Quiet the woman remains.

\"I am healing, Hir,\" Lominzil answers, his voice subdued, shifting the shoulder that bears his sling. \"And I am ready.\"

Lominzil nods to the new-come, as well.

[Calardan(#30834)]

Hir Calardan allows his Squire to answer as he guides his destrier up next to the Girithlin. He nods to the Herald in confirmation of those words.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The Lord Isilrim gains his saddle, trotting martially across the gathered.

Heeding Menelglir, he announces evenly to all, \"We ride north for boar. Before midday, we shall arrive our quarry is to be our first meal.\"

\"You shall perhaps have advantage in this country,\" he adds lastly to Lominzil. With this, he whistles to his trio of hounds and makes to exit Amroth\'s gates.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Boar..\" Menelglir twists about to eye Calenloth. \"Not something for a lady to fight on foot. Have you a bow with you?\" he asks, conversationally as they ride out.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

Yet Calenloth\'s gaze seems to bore into Conalmir, almost angrily, as if this turn of events could somehow be his fault. \"I have neither bow, nor spear, Menelglir, as I have never handled either.\" The pulled over knee slips slowly to the other side of the mount, hidden by skirts, as the reins tugged lead the woman behind the Herald.

\"It will be a pleasant ride, at least,\" she returns, cheerfully, after a moment of taut lips and darkened eyes. \"Perhaps I can help with preparations.\"

Wordless, though with a glance of question to his own Knight, Lominzil follows the pace set by Hir Arathis.

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"Perhaps we make for Edhellond,\" says Calardan, yet aside Lominzil, before spurring his horse ahead. He comes to ride aside the Lord Isilrim, silent.

...

[Arathis(#30050)]

The forests flanking the party\'s path condense as they ride deeper into the Girithlin countryside. There is a queerness to its trees, feigning joint to their boughs and knuckles to their leaves for though the cedars stand tall and fair, and the sweet aroma of crushed pine thickens the forest\'s floor, unwelcoming creaks whisper this arbor\'s far elven past.

Untroubled, the Lord Isilrim raises the back of his spear to rest at his shoulder. The head of the instrument is hefty and crowned, two large wings extending behind the weapon\'s point.

At length, he remarks to the group behind, \"It seems that I am to soon away again. The Lord Steward calls Amroth to answer for Caldur.

\"Our Order shall however be left in proper care for hail, Hir Calardan is your Marshall.\" A smile marks the end of his announcement.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Out before the party, a fawn passes.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Then you shall share mine and I will show you how to use it--as long as the danger is not upon us,\" says Menelglir, answering Calenloth\'s complaint of lack of appropriate weaponry as they ride onward.

\"My congratulations, then, Hir,\" is his answer upon the announcement of Arathis.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

Calenloth nods to share the congratulations offered by Menelglir, yet as she looks towards him for explanation, the movement of the spotted creature catches her eye. She watches it step, its leaps awkward and ricketting, then slowly twists to the direction of its path, scanning between the brush for the doe.

\"Thank you,\" she replies softly, eyes still drawn ahead.

Lominzil has ridden in silence, shadows flying over his face beneath the forests of his home. His eyes, upon the announcement, sharpen upon Calardan.

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"Thank you,\" says Hir Calardan with a nod to first Arathis and then Menelglir. \"But let us be done with it. There is a task at hand this day.\"

He then points out at the fawn, \"And hark! Nature stirs.\"

[Arathis(#30050)]

One Dunadan knight turns to the other, \"Yet I am gladdened to learn it. Soon, Hir, we must begin to speak as hands clasp. For I have called the Lords, and I know not if they shall assemble before I return from Denethor\'s grasp.\"

The Herald\'s horse is bid then to quicken, tracking the rush of the hounds after and then behind the passing fawn, probing its exit from the opposing path-side. Arathis there dismounts.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

And, too, does Menelglir dismount, coming up after Arathis and immediately setting to string his bow. This weapon he hands toward Calenloth, while a long spear he chooses for his own.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

\"By foot?\" Calenloth asks, taking the weapon from the standing Knight. A shrug of the shoulders, she too, moves to dismount.

The free trot of Lominzil\'s horse stills, and he, too, dismounts, his expression tightening momentarily as his feet hit the ground.

[Calardan(#30834)]

Before stepping from his horse, the Marshall says to Arathis, \"They shall be entertained until you are released by the Steward our cause must appear at its fullest strength ere the Lords make any decision of import.\"

Then, Hir Calardan dismounts. He asks his Squire, \"Lominzil, have you knowledge of these lands?\" while too stringing a finely crafted bow.

[Arathis(#30050)]

\"Aye,\" answers Arathis before he speeds to his hounds, \"it is quick, if the Prince has told you already of the Dragonslayer\'s festival, and the staying of the Lords.

Dismounted, the topic is forgotten: \"Ye Lancers have brought bow? But we weave the trees,\" the Isilrim laughs, taking his spear again to his shoulder, \"then to each an eye, if your marks are true.\"

As the hounds, pressed by the new footmen, continue in question down the fawn\'s departed path, another fell creaking works upon the forest: rustles arise frequently, and the canopy dims even the midday\'s sun. Even so, Arathis follows their scent.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"And that,\" Menelglir says quietly in answer to Calenloth, \"is why boar hunting is so dangerous. On foot. And boar are extremely dangerous and ferocious,\" he says, tugging on his helm and adjusting his tabard. \"Did you think to wear your leather armor, ill fitting though it may be?\"

The conversation of the Knight Officers captures his attention: Menelglir hesitates, forehead creasing a moment. \"If it is not too presumptous, my lords, may I ask for what purpose the Lords have been called?\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]

\"Yes!\" The girl falls to the ground, first one foot, then the other placed, hands grasped firmly upon the horn. Reaching up to the basket, she pulls two larger leather pieces tucked below the nets.

Armor fastened, helm tugged over, she tucks the bow below her arm and moves forward, reins in hand to lead her horse.

\"My brother is the better hunter, sir,\" Lominzil answers Calardan, lifting his gaze to the thick canopy. \"But these are ancient woods, and we do not frequent them. Nevertheless, the brush is thick, and the land suitable for building lairs, which the wild boar favor during the day.\"

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"I suppose I have heard one too many things since holding court with the Prince. I must have simply forgotten. Of course,\" answers Calardan.

And, too, he is left to wonder at his choice of armament.

Yet the Marshall trudges on sportingly and even draws an arrow. He leaves Menelglir\'s question for the Herald\'s regard rather than his own.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Arathis instructs his squire to don the lady his buckler, and adds to her, \"Nay, our mounts remain here. The trees befit them not and their guards against tusks are the lesser.

\"But we shall not allow a beast to near ye, Lady,\" he assures offhand, considering Menelglir and forgoing his question, \"be just ready with thy shield.\"

The hound trio halts quickly at an indistinct twang, say akin to a curious twig or a woodman\'s bow, ere one among them dashes sharply to the left, barking loudly behind him.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"I have already sworn once to protect the Lady,\" Menelglir says in answer, putting a hand out to help Calenloth adjust the loaned shield on her arm should she wish it. \"The oath still holds and my shield is ready.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]

A smile from Calenloth in remembrance and she holds forth her arm to let Menelglir turn the buckler properly. \"I thank you, Sir,\" to Arathis, \"And will heed your warnings.\"

Glancing toward the charging hound, she notes the foliage underfoot, listening to the words of Lominzil.

Lominzil halts, listening keenly with his eyes closed. \"I do not think,\" he ventures slowly, \"that is a boar...\"

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"Perhaps it is an elf,\" muses Calardan, following the hounds\' direction.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The advanced hound then takes an unnatural leap. For it is not a boar but three that leap outward from the forest recklessly, one\'s tusks striking the dog\'s midsection. Thus rushes Arathis forward in attack, meaning to draw the beast to a planted spear.

A readying glance flutters to mark the bowmen, as the remaining two boars hurry their boned fangs towards them -- one marking for Lominzil, and the other darting towards Calenloth.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

After readying Calenloth\'s shield, Menelglir stepped a few paces away to secure his own arms and armor, then followed into the dense undergrowth. THus he is more than a few paces behind when the boars rush.

\"Calenloth!\" The name is yelled, cracking through the forest. \"Shield! Use your shield\" Menelglir is at a run behind, spear ready to throw at the beast if he can only get into position in time.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

Calenloth holds for a seemingly endless moment as the beast charges, staring towards it almost trancelike. But the flash of tusk and stank of urine snaps toward reality, and her nimble feet dance sideways, the hog lunging forward to catch only a flash of material. Tearing against the pull, the fabric pulls free, but a crash of shield against temple gives advantage to the girl, slowing the beast, if only for now.

\"Or perhaps boars in rutting season,\" Lominzil says to his Knight, and then takes a knee, bracing the spear in his uninjured arm. Without a second hand to steady the shaft, the spearhead slices wide, scratching the boar\'s shoulder and winning a porcine bellow.

The animal charges wide, however, its tusks tearing into the Squire\'s unprotected side, and as he stumbles, readying himself once more, so does the boar.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Calenloth\'s dodge to the side is enough to give Menelglir room to aim. Aim he does, time seemingly suspended as the boar pounds ahead and toward him now, trailing bits of material with it. At what seems to be the last second, Menelglir releases his spear, a mighty throw that sticks the weapon in the animal\'s shoulder, though, as it veers at the last moment.

Bleeding, roaring, spear clattering against trees, the boar turns back in renewed fury toward Calenloth.

Menelglir draws his sword and gives chase.

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"Damned!\" curses the Knight-Marshall under his breath. One boar is quite enough for a party of their size, but three? A dire situation, indeed.

As the boar nearest to him turns to renew his charge, Calardan nocks an arrow, raises the bow, draws it back and fires at the beast.

It is a hit, but the arrow does not fell the boar. It only serves to infuriate the wildling more where before its path was set to Lominzil, it is now to the Knight-Marshall that the beast charges!

[Calenloth(#27998)]

The squeal deafening, the woman winces as the octave screams into her ears. Her arm aching from the edges of the shield as it pounded against her narrow arm, she shakes the buckler forward despite the dull throb, her only protection from the sharp tusk.

The bow useless at this range, this she knows, despite her lack of training, and she instead wields the one sharp blade she does carry. An ornate dagger tucked into her sleeve, revealed and she stands, knees bent, ready to pounce away from the impending charge. Which comes, and she twists away, driving the small weapon into the other shoulder sharply. Rage pours from the boar, and she looks to Menelglir, hoping the Knight runs forward in time.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Arathis impales his boar as it hurtles itself onto the spear. The knight is balanced the sudden weight of the beast is caught upon the wings of his spear. So falls the beast, taking too the Herald\'s spear.

He unleashes his sword then, darting forward for Calenloth\'s attacker, loudening himself in distraction.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Menelglir is hard on the heels of the boar so that in the momentary chaos of Calenloth stabbing it, he slams is sword blade down into the beast\'s back, half severing front end and back. The stink of blood is now added to the stink of wild beast. But the boar, still dangerous in its death throes, thrashes about its deadly tusks.

\"Back!! Get back!\" the Telpekhor\'s voice cuts through the noises pouring forth from the boar as he yells at Calenloth for all the world as if she is some Squire under his command and not at all a noble lady.

Lominzil sways crazily as he rises to his feet, darkness quickly spreading in the shadow beneath his sling. The remaining boar is already far away, its target diverted. The Squire does without thinking all that is left to do.

He throws the spear, heavy and broad-bladed and not meant to be thrown, toward the rump and back of the running beast.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"So. Much. Blood,\" Calenloth gasps, the words in short spurts as she jerks backward, pulling the dagger from the stiff and thrashing flesh. But little room to retreat is left for her, thick brush behind her cutting off the rear, and a raging beast writhing in front.

But promise to heed twists heavily upon her mind and so over and up it is, small foot clapping over the rump of the pig as she springs over, torn dress caught between her feet and toppling to her knees.

The broad-bladed spear sticks in the hamstring of the last beast, causing it to spin in rage. It limps, much slower now, back towards its original target, Lominzil.

The Blue Squire leans upon the trunk of a fir, and waits with his longsword pointed forward in one blood-sticky hand.

[Calardan(#30834)]

With enough time to nock anew an arrow, Calardan rears back and aims at the hobbled beast. The arrow flies and drives itself deeply into one of the boar\'s legs, forcing it to ground well before it reaches Lominzil.

The mighty boar\'s stomach rises and falls, rises and falls.

\"Squire, it is in pain. Finish the job,\" says the Knight-Marshall.

Without words, Lominzil walks with effort to the downed beast.

He stoops near the heaving chest, the shuddering tusks, and draws the longsword across its throat.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Calenloth\'s offending boar is slain, collapsing at the Telpekhor\'s hard blow. Yet the beast squeals harshly at its death, writing its legs. Arathis, with a point of his blade, invites Menelglir to finish the beast.

Even so, he returns to the boar pitched upon his spear, and makes casually to remove and ready it. A brief glance regards the moments of Lominzil\'s final beast, ere he returns studiously to his task.

\"Come,\" the Isilrim says then, \"let us clean them quickly and return to our horses, lest we famish ere nightfall.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]  But although Calenloth\'s stumble threw her to the ground for a moment, she follows the momentum of her roll, head over shoulders, and back to her knees, quickly scrambling back to her feet. The dagger, coated in blood, she looks down upon it, and bends forward to wipe the blade upon the forest ground. The beast stilled, though writhing, the immediate danger averted.

A sigh of relief, she waits to approach any closer.

[Menelglir(#17324)] Silver blade of the Silver Knight makes short work of the boar\'s end, but Menelglir, ignoring the Herald\'s orders to dress the beast, first looks instead toward where Calenloth had fallen. \"You are unhurt?\" he calls to her--and it will only be after receiving her assurance that she is well that he will dress the dead boar.

[Calardan(#30834)]

Calardan moves to join Lominzil by their fallen boar. He looks intently at his Squire before he says, \"Leave your sword with me. I shall prepare the beast.\" Swinging the longbow upon his back, the Hlorithain holds out a hand.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

Calenloth brushes the twigs from her hair, as it untwists and falls down one shoulder, loosened by the roll, shaking her skirts and considering the tear along the side. A shrug, as there is little one can do to attend to this state here, and she replies \"Yes, I am unhurt, Menelglir.\" A small smile meant only for reassurance, she finally steps closer, life gone from her attacker.

\"Can I help?\" she asks, calmly, tucking the dagger back into her sleeve and readjusting the straps of the shield still afixed to her arm.

[Conalmir(#31396)] From behind, Conalmir comes forward offering to help dress out one of the boars.

\"I will help, sir,\" Lominzil protests, his voice thick with shame. He bleeds, and after moment\'s hesitation hands over the longer blade.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The gut to the Herald\'s boar is split and its innards removed. \"Squire,\" says Arathis to Conalmir, \"bind the legs for carry.\"

As midday comes to evening, the shadows of the forest deepen, both bush and the bark obscuring one another. The Lord Isilrim makes more haste to depart. \"Come, let us go.\"

[Conalmir(#31396)] \"Yes, sir.\" Conalmir kneels, bringing some leather strings from his belt pouch and tying the boar\'s legs together. He glances up at Lominzil\'s voice, and frowns slightly. \"You\'re hurt.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Bloody work, but if you like, yes,\" Menelglir says, nodding to Calenloth. He makes swift work of gutitng the boar, tying up its legs up, then stands, stretching.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

\"Perhaps not, then,\" she replies, lips curling back slightly. \"Ah,\" she glances, the fallen helmet a few steps aside, moving to collect her armor.

[Calardan(#30834)]

Calardan opens the last of the boars up and cleans out the organs. They are left for whatever wild animal comes upon them next. The Knight-Marshall himself then binds the legs of the beast, properly preparing it for transport.

[Arathis(#30050)]

A sharp twang and shrill neigh shoots down from the path, followed by a swift flurry of hooves away and northward from the hunting group.

Looking back to Conalmir, Arathis bellows, \"Fetch he hounds!,\" ere forsaking his speared boar and rushing towards the horses.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conal\'s head comes up and he leaps to his feet, running for the two uninjured dogs. A moment to call them to his side, and he is after Arathis.

Tearing his cloak with his teeth, Lominzil fashions a crude bandage about his waist. The cry of the horses brings a spark to his eye, and he looks that way, but does not yet lift himself from his seat.

[Calardan(#30834)]

With Conalmir and Arathis off on a chase and his boar already bound and tied, the Hlorithain Knight goes over to retrieve the wounded hound.

He picks it up against his chest even as it yelps. Calardan looks from the hound to Lominzil, then says, \"Come. You are not fit for pursuit.\"

\"Edhellond is not far.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]

The chaos echoing the gravity of the situation, Calenloth takes the moment to pull the studded helmet back over her head. With a glance towards Menelglir, she steps forward. \"I will stay with Lominzil,\" she declares.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Yes--stay with Lominzil and Sir Calardan,\" Menelglir says, looking glad, at least for an instant, that Calenloth has been the one to suggest it. Sword in hand, he takes off at a run after Arathis.

[Arathis(#30050)]

At the path, a cruel scene is beheld: the company\'s mounts are disappeared, save Lady Calenloth\'s, standing there yet, and the Hlorithain Marshall\'s, slain down by arrow.

A grief takes to Arathis, and he calls out to those about him, \"We must go to Edhellond and speak to the Girithlin\'s sentries.\"

\"It is cold,\" says Lominzil quietly, dragging himself up by the crosstrees of his reclaimed spear, and begins to walk.

\"The shadows grow long. I will take you to my home, and speak to my family.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Stepping forward into the clearly, Menelglir takes Calenloth\'s horse by the bridle, leading it away from the other dead horse, speaking to it and calming it as he does so. \"Is it far to walk? Lominzil--you are injured and should ride. I can tend your wound...but not here.\"

[Conalmir(#31396)] The dogs whine, staring down the path after the horses, but remaining obediently at Conal\'s side. \"Can we not go after them, sir?\" he asks of Arathis.

[Calenloth(#27998)]

The sight, though tragic, almost relieving, as Calenloth runs to her mare, pulling open the larger basket to find a smaller basket tucked within. Pulling this basket to her chest, she too insists, \"Lominzil, yes, please. I can walk. And if the journey grows long, she can bear us both.\"

The lid pulled from the basket, she peers inside, comforted.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The arrow is of immaculate craft.

[Calardan(#30834)]

\"We must go now. This hound is badly hurt,\" says Calardan to Lominzil, little focus paid to the fate of his horse. \"Lead, if you can.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)]

And so forward they step, for once, Calenloth offering the Squire a lift onto the horse. But she too, pauses, to glance one more about the site, horses missing, horses felled, and yet her horse only standing.

\"Did you not say... the Elves... they are here?\" she asks, curiously, yet warily.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The Herald fetches the arrow and then retrieves a mumak\'s horn from his baldric, charging a bellow through it thrice.

\"It will be two hours by foot,\" he says, turning to his party, \"but the Girithlin will come before that.

\"Remain on guard.\"

Lominzil mounts, sitting uncomfortably astride the side-saddle. \"The Elves?\" he answers Calenloth. \"If they remain, no one can tell.\"

\"But if they were true, they would not do such,\" he says, gesturing to the death all about.

He guides the mare forward at a trot.