Meeting Filled (Three Horses and an Ass TP)

Old South Road - Gap of Rohan

The old south road is very faint here, running in a more or less east-west direction. The grass is high and has encroached on the once-proud road, its stones worn away and seamed with grass grown in the cracks. To the north and the south the foothills and rising peaks of the mountains, the Grey and the White, can be seen. The road turns northwards eventually, towards the wild hills and fells of Dunland and the barren regions beyond, but eastwards the road runs to the rich plains of Rohan.

Contents:

Menelglir

Arathis

Gondorian Wagon(#2030OXen)

Obvious exits:

NorthWest leads to Old South Road - Dunland and the Gap of Rohan.

East leads to Old South Road - Gap of Rohan.

[Arathis]

The dirts of the Gap of Rohan have hardened beneath a favonian chill. Hooves produce here no more than a shallow cadence, adding to a silence about the travelers unbefitting the viatic wont. Indeed, save for the breath of their steeds, a dullness has ruled much of the trek past the Isen.

Suddenly, as if without prompt, the men of Gondor and Rohan halt, and commotion remains slight as the travelers take recourse to brief meal. The Knight Arathis, yet atop his destrier aside the wagon, seems however to refrain.

[Menelglir(#1394)]

Unlike the Knight that commands him, Menelglir does not have the luxury of simply staying put in the wagon he is driving. There is food to be made and eaten, but first the horse that pulls his wagon to be tended to. Menelglir fetches water for the horse from a nearby creek, sees to the beast\'s food and comfort and then before he himself eats, hurries off toward the creek again, likely to take care of nature\'s needs. Except he goes a bit further along the creek than before, so that he disappears behind a dip in the land as the creek curves.

Minutes pass. Still no sign of the Squire. Perhaps in the business of taking their meals, noone notices yet.

[Arathis]

A vacant gaze follows the departure of the squire.

Without word, Arathis retrieves a stockfish from a sack upon his saddle, and consumes it unobserving.

Then he bids his mount forward, loose reins left to traipse after the squire.

((OOC Note: At this time, another RP is to have occurred between Menelglir and the Dunlander Bledrann [http://elendor.closetgamers.com/site/logs.html?sobi2Task=sobi2Details&sobi2Id=1336]))

[Menelglir(#1394)]

At least a quarter of an hour must have passed, but no sooner does Arathis move forward than the White Squire reappears, heading back at a trot toward the makeshift campsight. \"There were men, sir, darkish sort of. On a hill. And one on a horse,\" he says, breathless as he nears the Knight. \"He spoke to me.\"

The Lord Isilrim, donned of grim raven mail atop a warhorse of similar ilk, scouts down upon Menelglir. He neither moves nor speaks to the boy. All that is given is a mute gesture: his gauntlets roll to a fist, calling him forward.

[Menelglir(#1394)]

Obedience is unquestionable, but there is a hiccup of hesitation as Menelglir comes forward, swallowing hard. He has two buckets with him that he took to bring water back, but they are only half full at best. He sets them down and approaches.

[Arathis]

The same hand bends downwards, squaring upon the knight’s bone baton.

So he barks, his bass unkind, “Speak.”

[Menelglir(#1394)]

\"Sir.\" A deep frown grows on the White Squire\'s forehead as he speaks. He points in the direction from which he came. \"I went to get water and wash my face from the road and...there is a small hill just over there. There were men on it, darker than us, dark haired. With spears and bows. And a man in mail who rode up to me and asked who I was and what I was doing here.\"

[Arathis]

“So we are shadowed.”

Bending in his saddle, the Lord Isilrim releases his baton, and twists to better assess the frame of the squire. His gaze lightens: “You are unhurt?”

[Menelglir(#1394)]

\"No, sir,\" Menelglir shakes his head. \"They knew I was not..a Forgoil..?\" he tries the word tentatively. \"Though the man on horseback--he gave his name as Bledrann Faol, said that strangers could only cross their land at a price.\" He grimaces. \"A head of a Forgoil--a Rohirrim--is what he demands from us.\"

[Arathis]

Some amusement takes to the features of the Dunadan, winning a smirk of macabre note. It is unhidden, albeit unfound in his bass: “What else was said?

“What did you say? From greeting to departure.”

[Menelglir(#1394)]

Another hard swallow accompanies the nod given to this command. \"I called out, when I saw the men, asking who they were, but I don\'t think they spoke the common tongue. And then the two spearmen nearest seemed to be having an argument--the one aiming his spear at me and the other knocking it away and arguing, pointing to me. Then the horseman arrived and demanded to know who I was, what I was doing here, how many were with me.\"

\"I told him I was Menelglir Telpekhor of Gondor, and that the party of my countrymen consisted of only 5 and that we desired to go north. At which he laughed, saying there was a mountain in the way and his countrymen blocked passage through their lands to most strangers, and only gave way at a price.\"

\"He asked why we wanted to go north and I said that the purpose of my journey was not for me to know--that the lord I served asked and I obeyed and that was all, but that I was willing to carry a message back to my master. At which point he told me of his demand, then scoffed and rode away. He ordered the other men back, too, and they obeyed him.\"

[Arathis]

“You have given much information freely,” charges Arathis, his stare narrowed and riveted upon the addressed squire, “for it is better unknown that men of Gondor have reason now to trek Eriador.

“It shall not yet do us harm, as the men of Dunland are lame in nature. Pray but that the word shall not find wind to others. Orthanc is not far, and we have had no embassy with its Master for many years.”

Pausing, Arathis straightens to regard the location of the meeting. A singular nod then, and he speaks decidedly: “Very well. Return the water to the camp, and then ready yourself with the most regal of armors. After I alert the men of the Mark, I shall ride with you, as escort and advisor, to inform these boors that we accept their demands.

“We shall bring twenty heads of Rohan, and beneath them twenty blades.”

With this, Arathis circles his destrier towards the southern caravan, and motions for Menelglir to follow him.

[Menelglir(#1394)]

\"But....why...?\" The question is off the White Squire\'s lips just as soon as Arathis\'s narrowed eyes look elsewhere. \"Why would any care that men of Gondor ride north and why the worry about Orthanc...and...if the only way to wherever it is that we go is through the land of these dark folk, then are we to fight our way all the way through? Can 5 of us, or 25 if the horselords are with us, possibly safetly traverse an entire land of people who wish to bar our way? We cannot take the heads of our allies to these people, of course, but it seems to me that if we fight here, there will be blood and fighting the rest of the way and we will have no chance to keep whatever desperate errand calls us north.\"

\"Sir.\" This is added with a sigh as Menelglir drops his eyes and makes to follow.

[Arathis]

Without shifting his head backwards to the squire, Arathis answers, his bass carried loudly, “We travel northwest, not north. And their lands, should they fancy them such, do not reach the road, passage upon which is all the same right to the kingdoms of the Dunedain. If they shall not let us pass freely, then we shall claim our right otherwise.

“That is all, Menelglir. You shall better understand our errand and my decision once you have given me answer to my question, which I yet await.”

[Menelglir(#1394)]

\"Sir?\" Menelglir stoops to pick up the water buckets, but hurries along behind the Knight as best he can. \"If..the aim is to free a single man, then as the scop said in Edoras, perhaps outright war is not appropriate? But a small force? Unless a larger diversion is needed to hide the actions of a small force? Otherwise, you\'ll forgive me sir, but I don\'t understand the question, obviously.\"

[Arathis]

“You have thought little, for your conclusions are the same.”

The judgment earns at first nothing else from the Lord Isilrim. Again, he prompts his destrier forth unlooking.

“All men,” he then calls out, an air of command issuing his tongue, “possess quality beyond the quantity of their person for their acts shall produce effects, which themselves shall gear history forward. Whether it is by order of the fates or by their own understanding, some men carry this quality greatly and the fibers of the earth, and the tale of its end, lay in part at their will.

“The Order of Dol Amroth, of which you are an aspirant, understands that there is a world beyond their Princedom by the Sea. Thus their oaths are sworn not only to their own honor, but to Ulmo, Lord of Water, from which all life springs.

“The Prince Imrahil is, more than a great man, a good man and to lose him would not only afflict other good men, upon whose courage the tides of our world depend, but too the Free Peoples, for which Dol Amroth stands as the only southern bastion.”

[Menelglir(#1394)]

\"But...\" Menelglir protests, \"I\'m certain that I -did- say something to that effect on your first questioning. It was obvious you refer to the Prince, and I said something about how he is important to our world...did I not, sir?\" he says, sounding uncertain about the matter. \"Not with the same words and not referring to Ulmo or the other things. I don\'t have your way with words and never will, I\'m afraid. I speak more plainly and...there\'s much I do not know or do not put together as meaningful,\" he sighs. \"But...that is the basis of our errand? What would travel northwest have to do with that, then?\"

[Arathis]

“The Prince,” begins Arathis in reply, his steed halted as if to better serve his words, “was not referred to alone. For let us consider the King Theoden: has he not pit twenty of his Riders to potential death along Dunland for the sake of a few men of Gondor and have not these twenty Riders sworn allegiance to the word of one man?

“My question was so one of the basis of service, to which you answered then and even now with logistics. But the answer is instead that no man lives alone.

“If you have understood this, you shall be glad to carry water.”

Pulling his reins, the Lord Isilrim redirects his destrier into a swifter trot campwise. No answer is given to the squire’s final query.