Outracing the Flames RPG

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Eostre accepted the proferred piece of liver, giving it a thoughtful glance before eating the piece of warm meat. "Thank you greatly." She realized for a moment that she was surprisingly hungry; her stomach grumbled ever so slightly at the smell of the fresh meat from a newly killed rabbit. Eating the piece carefully, she wiped the blood off of her fingers on the edge of her tunic.

There was, for a moment, a hint of a grin there. "Shall we make an attempt to snare one more and keep excess for breakfast, or return to the others?"

She glanced off into the bush, listening for the potential rustle of another creature, but the fresh smell of blood kept them fairly distant, wary in the scent that could only read as death. They wouldn't snag another if they hung around too long.

[Naria]

Wulfham


Incana stood alone as Brand and Dorran left her to find Lady and kill the female cougar. She felt overwhelmed and scared wondering what to do about this big male hiding in front of her; she stood quietly with not a sound nor a breeze to be had in the air around her. She then heard footsteps approaching from behind and thought that one of the men had come back to help. Incana turned her head slightly to the right and saw Vaenosa come into view.

Incana had a sudden thought come to her, she had no idea if it was delerium from the pain or what was going through her head. She whispered to the other woman,"We are the same height so I don't think that the cat saw your approach. I will be the bait so we can lure him out into the open. Then you can take him out with one of your arrows." Incana nodded at Vaenosa and hoped that this other woman was as good as she had boasted. Incana took a deep breath and with a painful shreek dropped to the ground.

[Valier]

Wulfham

Everthing had now becoma a blur to Vaenosa. There were two Cats! How could she have been so stupid! She was sure there was just the female. Now images were flashing through her mind of the group being torn apart because of her lack of vocal warning. She should never have thought she could kill the cat and awaken the group, showing them her great deed. She was ashamed. She would not make a poor decision again. She was going to protect the injured woman even if it meant harm to herself.
She approached the woman from behind and as she neared Incana turned to her and whispered, "We are the same height so I don't think the cat saw your approach." She offered to be the bait, while bravely stating that Vaenosa should fell the beast with an arrow. With a shreek she dropped to the ground.

At that exact moment it was like time had slowed and Vaenosa's mind cleared. She raised her bow, swiftly readying an arrow. Then as if on cue the young male feline sprung with a snarl upon the fallen body of Incana. But Vaenosa was ready.She let the arrow fly. It hit it's mark with a sickening noise, she had pierced its eye.It was all over in the wink of an eye.The cat fell onto the body of the brave fallen maiden like a sack of heavy potatoes.
Without a second thought Vaenosa ran forward and rolled the carcass of the dead cat off of Incana. She began to panic, she was not sure if Incana was breathing. "Incana! Incana!" She screamed shaking the limp body. Then she heard a moan escape the woman's lips. Vaenosa smiled. She would be alright, as long as they tended her wounds soon.

Turning back to the cat Vaenosa took one of her daggers from its sheath. She gave the beast a swift kick in the ribs, then grabbed it by the back of it's head.She used her dagger to pry from it's jaws the fangs that could have been Incana's demise. Wiping her blade she placed it back away and tucked the fangs in her pouch that hung at her side. She turned to face the delema of what to do with the unconcious woman.

Grabbing Incana under the arms, Vaenosa tried to smoothly half drag the woman back towards the now cold fire. She propped Incana's head on her bedroll and covered her with her own. She checked the woman's breathing, then satisfied that she was just asleep, she quickly hurried to the small stream.

Vaenosa washed the blood from her slender fingers and splashed the chilling water on her face, then she cleaned the fangs letting the blood flow away from her with the current. The adrenaline was leaving her and she was beginning to be concerned with where Nay had run to. She walked back to the camp like a person who is sleeping while walking, she had not yet slept and she was almost exhasted from all the emotions that had coursed through her this day. The day seem to never end, like she was going to live these moments forever.
Incana was still as she approached. Vaenosa bent down and opened the womans fingers and placed the fangs in her palm, then closed her fingers about them. They were rightfully hers, she had sarificed herself.

Vaenosa rose, then scanned the area for her horse. She found him leaning against Starlight for comfort like he would his mother, not far from where she was. She lead them back towards the camp, while picking up wood along the way. They would need a roaring fire so the men could find their way back and Incana's wounds could be treated.

Within minutes she had a fire started and began to add larger fuel. All she could do now was heat some water and wait for the men to return. She had only rudimentary knowledge of healing. She hoped one of the men knew more than she did or, Incana could be in trouble if the wound festered. She could clean the wound and keep it covered that was the least she could do.

[Farael]

“I don’t think another rabbit will be necessary, Eostre” Osmod said as he took an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on the bowstring. He then drew the string slowly, aimed at what seemed to be an empty branch on a nearby tree and released the arrow. The arrow missed the snake that was perched on it, but hit the branch hard enough to shake it loose. Osmod grabbed the reptile after it fell to the ground and a cut close to its head finished the struggle. It was by no means a large animal, just over three feet long and two inches thick, but it would do given their need to hurry.

The group agreed to go back to the camp, they had left Fionn alone for too long and Osmod worried the fire might have brought unwanted attention. As they neared the camp, he stopped abruptly. “There are tracks of a single horse going towards the camp. I might be overreacting but I fear we have been followed. We don’t know whether it may be friend or foe, so I’d suggest we prepare for the worst. Ladies, the March Warden would have not let you join us if he thought you were not ready for fighting and I trust his judgement. Let’s approach camp with our weapons ready and our eyes open.” He drew his sword slowly and with a stern look on his face, he walked towards the light of the fire. He was not close enough to see clearly, but it seemed that Fionn was not alone.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


‘Snake!’ Meghan’s mouth was watering as they made their way back to the campsite. The rabbit would have made a mouthful each for them, just enough to take the edge off her hunger. Truth be told, she could most likely have eaten half of it herself. But a nice, fat snake! There would be enough meat to satisfy her grumbling, empty belly. And plenty yet to smoke over the coals for breakfast.

She was last in line as they walked along. Her thoughts drifted from her hungry gut to wondering how her goats were doing. Had Leof remembered to separate the two billies? The younger one already had a barely healed gash from trying to move in on her old fellow as “lord” of the herd.

They had come to a stop and Osmod was talking. His words barely registered as she worried over her problem. ‘. . . prepare for the worst.’ She nodded her head in agreement. There’d be a great deal lost if the young billy was mortally injured. She had planned on splitting her flock; she had enough nannies now, to do that. And with him at the second group’s head, there would be more babies of good stock.

‘Let’s approach camp with our weapons ready and our eyes open.’ That phrase and the slight snick of his blade as it was pulled from its sheath snapped her to full attention. Meghan drew close behind Osmod and followed him into camp. Her bow was at the ready should it be needed against the intruder.

She peeked around Osmod as they entered the camp’s perimeter. How odd, she thought. ‘If he is a danger to us, why does he sit so comfortably by the fire, tending it with a stick?’ she thought to herself.

The man turned his head for a moment as if speaking to someone on the other side of the fire. In the darkness her blood rushed to her cheeks in surprise and in anger.

‘Son of a three-horned ram! I can’t believe Leof would do such a low, stupid thing!’

[Maeggaladiel]

Fionn was about to reply to Raedwald, but an angry voice cut him off abrubtly.

"Son of a three-horned ram! I can’t believe Leof would do such a low, stupid thing!" Startled, Fionn turned and saw Meghan, Osmod and Eostre approaching the camp. Meghan did not look overly pleased to see the newcomer.

Of course. Now it was TWICE that Fionn had been left alone, only to be taken by suprise. Luckily these past two times it had been friends who approached him, not enemies. A dark smile crossed his face. It was a good thing he was nothing but Fion of Bregoware, son of a farmer. He'd be the worst Rider that Rohan had ever known.

"Welcome back," Fionn said to the others. "We have company." He grinned. "He brought potatoes, and he showed up faster than you lot did, so I had to let him in. I was practically starving."

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric

Night had falled, but the moon was shining brightly. As the path was quite familiar, Sythric found no reason to slow down the pace. The earlier he would catch the party, the more hours of sleep he and Thydrë would gain for tomorrows’ ride. That was a simple equation.

After his evening “meal”, he had not passed over to those trance-like memories, he had done during the early evening hours. Most of the time, his head was just blank. But every now and then, thoughts and remembrances sprang into his mind. Especially the words of the old Hugebryth seemed to be recurring: “They sure can ride, and some of them propably can hunt or fend off foxes from their goat herds. But have they ever even seen an orc, or an easterling warrior in full armour, not to talk of confronting one, or ten?”

Sythric was not doubting the bravery of these young riders. Quite on the contrary: all the youngsters he had teached in the arts of war, had been magnificiently ready to go for every possible trouble and danger to just learn more. Now how about in times of a real need? There was no doubt in his mind about that either: Bregowarians were no cowards! He was just doubting their reactions, and their actions, if a real danger would come upon them. What your heart says, and what you actually do, are not simply the same thing. One does not know beforehand, how one reacts in a critical situation, not until the proof of reality shows it to you. You can train yourself over the years - via experience, toil and labour, and basically painful memories of the times when you have failed - to get those two things closer together. But it still is hard, at least for everyone I know, myself included, every time it’s tested.

He got halfway back to the here and now of the real world, and tried to think in a more controlled manner. One thing seemed clear enough. They would have to count on stealth, and if coming up with enemies, then on speed. We would propably be quite good in that. Oh, we will be! At least Swithulf’s children were good last night. And Hunlaf! ... Was is just last night? Not even a full day ago? Was it about this time when the horns were blowing? Maybe a bit later, maybe a bit later...

But then again. Even if that last night’s ride was truly demanding for the youngsters – it was a fast ride in the dark of the night, through paths quite unfamiliar to most of them – it still wasn’t real. It wasn’t real in the sense of, say, easterling light cavalry being after us. One mistake last night didn’t mean brutal and instant death, but just some bruises and the nuisance of being a little more late. There is a certain difference between running for your life for real, practising it, or just generally trying to ride fast, for a reason or another. Sythric grinned amiably at the thought, having his own particular memories about being nauseatingly late, for reason or another.

But had any one of these young people ever really had to scare for their lives? Not just daydreaming about it, but actually feel the energy pushing through the veins: clinging to their lives, feeling it so dear for the first time, so on the edge, so fragile, so here and now? Or how about really felt the after-the-first-shock –feeling in a battle: being kind of an outsider, like in sleep, away from oneself and still being “ me”; in real world, but still somewhere else, not trying anything, not fearing anything, not thinking anything. Just acting and reacting: just a pure instinct, an underlying desire to live, and the vague hope of making the difference. But how to act? After hours and hours of rehersal, a soldier could act instinctively about the right way. How about these youngsters?

As he was just about to fall really deep into his memories, a small correcting move of Thydrë woke him up. They had just leaped over a small ditch, and Thydrë was avoiding the small boulders spread over the grass around a big artifically carved menhir. Wise horse you are, and seemingly worried about me, falling out of this world again. “Thank you my friend”, whispered Sythric aloud, near Thydrë’s ear, patting lightly its neck. Then he rose to his normal riding posture, letting Thydrë know, it was bussiness as usual again. He was awake once more.

Before long, he came to think about his earlier thoughts. Where did I start these mind’s wonderings the last time? It was the youngsters’ ride last night. That was it. Was it?

He remembered Waermund and Waerferth, he remembered Winflaed, he remembered his brother. He remembered Hunlaf. He remembered Cwen, he even remembered Ceolflaed. Sythric had passed the Bregowarian evacuation-caravan readily before the afternoon had turned to a dusk. He had passed them from about a half miles’ distance. He just wasn’t in a mood to any more farewells, or tough enough to meet his childrens eyes one more time, just to let go again. He had indeed recognized Skara-people from the long line of the refugees marching slowly south-west. Then he had spurred Thydrë to change from easy canter to a steady trot. He would not want to see this unhappy sight any more! It was far too personal and humiliating sight to be looked at. Now his mind dwelled in these last sightings of the evacuation: a line stretching over like a snake, made of tiny little bees, crawling slowly forwards, ahead of a fire that would burn... It was already a defeat, before anything had actually happened.

But there was something else, he had been thinking of, before these personal distractions. Oh yes, we would be fast, and rely on stealth. Surely. But what if...? What if we get surprised, what if we are run over off-guard? The thought chilled every bit of him.

He hurried Thydrë to run for it. He was awake now, up to his every cell. The moon lit their way over the grassland.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald


‘Now lass . . .’ Rædwald stood up his arms out to his sides, fingers splayed open. ‘Is that any sort of greeting for an old friend? And here among those I have not had the opportunity to greet properly.’ He took a few steps forward hoping she would not skewer him with an arrow.

He stopped and put his hands on his hips, his teeth flashing in a quick grin at the approaching trio. ‘Rædwald, at your service,’ he said, nodding to Osmod, Eostre, and lastly to Meghan. ‘And yes, Leof has sent me, little mistress. But only to secure the ongoing health of his herds.’

She snorted at his explanation. But he waggled his finger at her saying, ‘Yes, it is true. If you do not make it back, he fears your goats will wither away for the want of you. And so melancholy will they be that his goats will catch the wasting sickness . . . and then the chickens will all go into molt . . . and who knows where the winds of disaster will spread from that.’ He shook his head dolefully and wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. ‘The entire village of Wulfham could be nothing but grieving ghosts if you do not make a safe return, little mistress. And then what good would all this riding to the King be?’

---------------

Meghan


Meghan’s shoulders began to shake; a laugh broke from her though she did not will it. Shoving her arrow back in the quiver at her belt, she slung her bow on her back and ran to give him a quick embrace.

‘I never could stay angry at you, Rædwald. You old dog! I guess you can stay . . . that is if the others will have you.’

---------------

Rædwald


It was the potatoes, he thought, that most likely won them over. That and perhaps the stories he could spin. It had been a long time since he’d had any new ears to hear old stories of campaigns and battles and rides for glory and such. Meghan, of course, had heard most of his tales, but she was as accommodating as ever – laughing at the old jokes urging him to tell another.

The night grew late; the fire was banked. And a watch was set for the first hours of sleep. Osmod volunteered for it and took his position a short ways from camp on a little rise. Before settling down for the night, Rædwald walked out to where the young man sat on a flat rock. He had wanted to offer his pouch of pipeleaf in case Osmod wanted a smoke as he kept vigil.

‘Now, what’s that,’ he said, peering over the man’s shoulder at the design he’d drawn in the dirt. Osmod shrugged off the question, as if to say it was nothing really. A few pleasantries were exchanged, then Rædwald bade him goodnight, asking if he would wake him for the next watch.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric rode towards the fire. Well it’s safe enough here, and really helps me, but is that wise?, he thought, and kept riding. After coming to a distance a shout would cover, he slowed down Thydrë’s pace and continued with easy canter. There was someone, a shadow lit by the fire being on guard. Well, they have a guard. Good thinking, he thought. He saw the shape of the guard rising up and coming to alert position. He then stopped and yelled.

“People of Bregoware! I’m your friend, sent by the council. Don’t be afraid of me, but come forwards!”.

After voicing himself, Sythric leaped off Thydrë and came walking down, some 200 ft. away from the fire. Sythric saw the guard’s shadow moving around, and heard him shouting something back to someone he hadn’t seen yet. Quite soon he saw figures rising up. Just shadows against the dying fire, but still, human beings, rising up and coming towards him.

Sythric walked leniently towards the gathering party, and finally got the glimps of the first man standing in front of him.

“Raedwald! You old war-horse! How come am I seeing you here?”

Sythric let go of the reins of Thydrë, and embraced the other man amiably. They both patted each other to their backs quite heavily. The others had gathered around them by the time the embrace was done with. Sythric and Raedwald both looked to each others’ eyes and seemed happy to see one another. The others’ were standing around, like question-marks in a sentence.

[Arry]

Wulfham


The cat, Dorran’s arrow stuck in the left haunch, leapt at her tormentor. Brand raced toward his companion, a growing fear that he would not come soon enough. His oaken cudgel was held high in his right hand as he reached the now downed Dorran.

The force of the cougar’s leap had knocked the young man down and her jaws sought his throat for the kill. Dorran blocked the cat’s mouth with his bow and his arm as best he could.

Brand swung his club knocking hard against the cat’s left shoulder, driving the sharp teeth from their target. The cat rounded on him, snarling, and he strove to drive it away with the burning brand. It proved only a momentary deterrent.

With one swipe of her mighty paw, she knocked the brand from his hand, her claws raking down his left arm. Brand dropped his club, there was no room to use it; his sword, still in its sheath could not be drawn quickly enough.

And then she was nearly upon him . . .

The razor sharp tips of her left paw cut deep gouges on the right side of his face from temple to chin, missing by only a little his eye and the unprotected place at the side of his neck where the pulse beat rapidly. The cat crouched low, her muscles quivering with deadly intent. She sprang up and toward him, covering the short distance in less than the blink of an eye.

Brand barely had time to draw his knife with his right hand, and set it as a last defense against the cat’s mortal attack. The weight of her drove him backwards; he felt her hot breath upon his face. The knife, held in a near death grip in both his hands, sank deep into the cat’s chest. He felt the warm blood of her rush over his fingers.

She bore him down, pinning him between the unforgiving hardness of the ground and her self. His head struck hard against the dirt and darkness took him . . .

[Tevildo]

Dorran groggily pulled himself up off the forest floor, his head throbbing with pain. The world spun crazily about him. The force of the cat's attack just moments before had sent him sprawling onto the ground. Tentatively stretching out one leg and then the other, he was relieved to discover that he had not been seriously injured. Still, when Dorran attempted to stand and come over to Brand, the young man showed signs of being dazed and disoriented, and had some trouble walking. The wind had been knocked out of him.

Lady, who had sprinted boldly out of the thicket when the cougar attacked Dorran, now threaded her way through the bracken to stand beside her master, gently nuzzling his head. Despite the shallow cuts on the horse's flanks and withers, she looked to be in decent shape. The wounds needed cleansing, but that must wait till they returned to camp.

With great effort, Dorran knelt down beside Brand. The young man was not a healer, but he had plenty of experience caring for sick and injured steeds. Dorran reached his hand out to Brand's chest, felt the steady beat of his heart, and then began to examine his body and limbs. His friend had been knocked unconscious by the weight of the falling cat and had suffered a number of injuries. Fortunately, these wounds did not seem to threaten his life. There was little that Dorran could do for Brand since he did not even have water or clean rags. It was unlikely that Brand would wake up immediately. Moreover, Dorran's own wounds, though relatively minor, made it impossible for him to carry Brand on his own. He had no choice but to try and make his way to the main camp and get someone to help him.

Dorran took off his coat and placed it over Brand's upper body, and then dragged the carcass of the cougar well over to the side, beyond the ring of trees, so that no scavenger would bother his friend's fallen body. Dorran thought of trying to mount up on Lady but that did not seem like a practical idea. Glancing about the clearing, he found a stout branch on the ground that he could use as a staff and slowly began to make his way back down the long path as quickly as he could. The distance back seemed infinitely longer than when he'd gone running after the cougar. After what seemed like a very long time, he thought he recognized some familiar sights not too far from their camp. Dorran cried out in the darkness, "Incana, Vaenosa? Anyone there? Can someone help me with Brand?"

[Valier]

Wulfham

Vaenosa sat gazing at the fire waiting for the water to boil. She picked up her pack and rummaged through it, she had brought no first aid supplies. She was sure one of the others had brought some, but she did not want to rummage through their packs, they distrusted her enough already. She instead pulled a wad of fabric that had once been her childhood blanket. When she left, she had to take it....to remind her of her mother.But now it was all she could find that was clean. She took the now boiling water from the fire with two sticks she had fashioned as tongs and placed it aside to cool.

Incana was still unconcious and it had been at least an hour since the attack. Vaenosa lifted the bedroll and sat deciding how to get the woman's pants off. After a second look she saw the horses hoof had ripped them substantially. She pulled out her dagger and slit the woman's trousers from the hem to above the wound. Dipping the blanket in the water and ringing it out Vaenosa began to sponge the wound for a better look.The cut was not too deep but, there would be a painful bruise. She cleaned it as best she could, then trimmed a strip off the hem of the woman's trousers and wound her leg tightly through Incana's moans.Hopefully she would awaken soon.

Vaenosa stood and looked around the camp. It was still fairly dark but, the fire lit a large part of it.She was beginning to wonder what had happened to the men. They had only left Wulfham not one day ago and they were already in trouble. Vaenosa was afraid they would never return and if they did what condition would they be in?

She paced back and forth infront of the fire awhile, until she felt a wet nose on her neck, it was Nay and he needed her to comfort him. Starlight was not far behind. "I am sorry my boy! I forgot this must have terrified you two!" She placed her forhead on his neck, with his neck stretch over her shoulder. Starlight approached and leaned against Vaenosa for comfort. She stood holding them for a long time it seemed. Then tired she sat down again and added more logs to the fire. She leaned back against a log. The exhausted maiden fell asleep.

The figure that bent over her Father stood and faced her...she screamed. The man rushed towards her with a manic smile and picked her up like a rag doll, throwing her over his shoulder. He headed towards the cellar where it was cold and damp. He stumbled down the rickety steps and threw her into a corner.The friendly man who came calling asking for a bed and a warm meal in exchange for some handiwork was gone. All that stood before her was a manic, demon man who had planned this along. He stood panting and gasping before her , his eyes like deep dark black pools. He ripped from her small body the dress she wore and advanced with intent...Then he began to change...He was now becoming the cougar with teeth bared. He sprang for her neck.....

She half- awoke from her nightmare with a strangled scream, clawing the air at an unseen assailant.

[Naria]

Wulfham


Incana found herself moaning as she awoke. She lifted her head and found a fog in her vision. She put her head back down and collected herself before trying to sit up. Incana opened her eyes again with a much clearer sight and noticed that the sky had lifted its blanket of darkness that had plagued them for so long. It must be very early in the morning she thought to herself. She then went to move and was reminded once again of what had happened during the night--with jaws clenched she pulled herself into an upright position. Incana noticed that her right legging had been cut at the seam and found a piece of leather from her hem wrapped around her thigh. Since the men were nowhere to be found she assumed that the woman beside her had done what she could to help.

Incana had thought that she had dreamt of a woman screaming in terror and maybe it was herself but soon realized that it was Vaenosa. She was still muttering and reaching her arms into the air. Incana hobbled over to the other woman and noticed beads of sweat on her brow, she wanted to wake Vaenosa but wasn't sure if she should. While Incana fought with this little dilemma, her ears perked as she heard a familiar voice. It sounded like Dorran and he was just aways outside of camp. She turned her head away from Vaenosa to get a better listen and heard the man bellowing for help.
The woman panicked and all thoughts of not waking Vaenosa were gone. Incana shook Vaenosa quite violently and said, "Vaenosa get up, get up Dorran needs our help!"

Incana was determined to get to Dorran and put forth a valiant effort to do so. She made it past the fire and just to the outskirts of the camp when pain struck her yet again. She tried to push herself but could not go any further. She saw Dorran walking with a staff; with tears coming into her eyes she thought that not only Brand was hurt but so was he.

She was upset with herself and did not want to go back to camp, but she knew that she would be of no help and more a burden than anything if she went. Incana made her way back to camp and slowly laid back down on her bedroll. She looked over at Vaenosa and exclaimed, "Please go to their aid, they need help and I am not able to do so!" Exhausted from her effort Incana offered to stay and keep the fire stoked for Vaenosa's return with Brand and Dorran.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


Megan rolled groggily from her blankets and jamming her feet into her boots had followed the others to where Rædwald stood talking to another old man. She’d brought her bow along, not sure whether it would be needed. There had been no warning call from Rædwald nor sound of scuffling. In fact it was one of the others who’d waked her, shaking her shoulder and saying someone had hailed them from just at the edge of the camp proper.

The fire had burned down to coals and the only light was from the moon and stars. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to make out who it was. Someone sent by the village council, she thought she’d heard him say.

‘Old men are springing up from the damp night earth like mushrooms!’ she muttered, watching them clap each other on the back. ‘Well, perhaps they can keep each other company.’

She glanced over to where Osmod stood. She could not see his face well, and she wondered what he was thinking. He had seemed the natural leader of their little group as they’d started this journey. Now what would happen with two seasoned, if older, Riders, who were sure to have plenty of opinions and suggestions to offer, whether asked or not?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rædwald


‘Come closer, come closer my friends!’ Rædwald motioned them forward with his hand, a grin on his face. ‘This is an old friend of mine, a comrade from my younger days. We were Riders together!’

‘You must excuse them, I think,’ he said quietly to Sythric. ‘It’s quite a lot to have me and then you show up out of the darkness.’ He cocked his head a little to where Osmod stood. ‘From what I’ve gathered talking to the other young fellow, that one there has been their leader so far.’

[Nogrod]

"Well, you still can really brief people up to the point!" Sythric hissed to Raedwald, and smiled openly. "Oh. how I love to see you here, although I have no idea, why it is, that you are here in the first place. Tomorrow we may be wiser about many things, my friend." Then he realized, that they were not more alone.

“Good to see you safe and sound, ladies, gentlemen. I am Sythric, as you probably know, at least some of you will”.

He took a fast glance at Meghan and Osmod, nodding quickly to both of them, smiling a little. Then he looked at both Eostre and Fionn in the eyes, and nodded to them also. “You must be Eostre and Fionn. Good to see you. I know both of your fathers - not well, but enough - and if you be even a little like them, I’m sure, I’m in a good company.”

“Well, I answer your first obvious question right away, if someone didn’t hear it already: I’m here, sent by the March-warden and the council. I came back to Bregoware just after you had left. The council – mainly by Old-Hugebryth’s insistence, had come to second thoughts about your mission. Hugebryth would have wanted ten able and proved soldiers to do this run instead of you.” He glanced around, smiling slightly. “Well, I’m not ten lancers’, but still I’m here, because of the council’s decision. Or maybe they just couldn’t come up with anything more useful for me to do at this time of distress?” He exchanged looks with Raedwald, smiled a bit more openly, and then continued.

“Putting aside the sleep I had this morning, I’ve been on the saddle about two days in a row now. I’m tired, as is Thydrë, my dear fellow and friend. If I’m going to be able to ride with you when the sun rises, I would have to get some sleep quite now. We will have all the time to discuss everything during our ride, when the day comes around... Just please, wake me up, when you feel like going on again. I’m used to this kind of life, as is Raedwald here. Don’t you worry about us, old-timers’ as we seem to you, but believe me, we can manage this kind of a thing. That’s the way we have used to live. But if you allow me now, I would like to tend my friend Thydrë a good meal, and then have some sleep myself.”

He ended his monologue with a questioning look at his eyes, and as no-one replied immediately, he turned around, heading towards Thydrë.

[Farael]

It seemed he had just closed his eyes when someone’s voice woke Osmod up. It sounded like someone yelling and, worried that they might be in trouble, he reached for his sword. Cursing himself, he realized he had left the sword too far to reach, but by the time he looked around, he saw a lone rider walking towards them. Rædwald did not look too concerned and so he put his boots on and walked to meet the stranger. The other stranger, he reminded himself. What other surprises would this mission have in store?

The next surprise did not take too long, as the stranger looked very familiar. It was an acquaintance of his father, a former soldier. Sythric he said was his name and he had been sent by the March Warden to help them. So it was not only Meghan’s brother who did not trust them, the March Warden himself had his doubts! Well, it had only been one day but he had done a good job, hadn’t he? No, they all had, not just him. He looked around to the young faces of Fionn, Eostre and Meghan. Meghan seemed to be looking back at him and so he smiled. He had never wanted the responsibility anyway. And they knew what they were doing better than him.

The old man (he seemed even older than Rædwald) had been talking yet only the last words registered on Osmod’s mind. The stiffness on his legs reminded him that he should get some more sleep, and so stretching and yawning, Osmod told his fellow riders he would follow Sythric’s advice and get some sleep. He made it to his bedroll without looking back, then he realized the others might think that odd. “Let them think then,” he thought “I took the first watch, I am tired. It has nothing to do with the two old men”. Sleep came to him as soon as his set his head on the makeshift pillow. In his dreams, he found himself leading a brave eored in a valiant charge against an army of orcs.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Shoved awake, Eostre found herself tying her boots back up and standing up to examine the newcomers critically. So. They weren't trusted. Well, which one of them was the traitor, then? She innerly snorted. Did the marchwarden believe that desperately that they were unable to handle a mission with more than one experienced person to take the lead?

What was it now? She let herself mentally take the tally... Meghan's brother, and now one sent by the marchwarden himself, or so t'was said. She held silent through the tangle of words, language spoken, and seeming greetings.

Well, said some sadistic part of her mind, at least Meghan's brother is good looking.

She frowned and silenced that thought near to immediately. But already awake, she had a strong desire to follow after this... Sythric... and interrogate him. Why was he here? What was the council's suspicions that they would insist on sending them off... but she restrained herself, returning to sit back down on her bedroll. Perhaps I could take the next watch...

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald


Rædwald felt the tiredness of a long day’s ride creeping on him, too. He motioned for one of the others to take the watch and waited as they retrieved what weapon and other things they might need to pass the time.

‘Wake us at first light, if you will,’ he asked. 'The sooner we’re to the ford and cross it, the sooner we’re heading down the river and toward Edoras.'

[Nogrod]

Sythric freed Thydrë from all the load she was carrying, gave her a quick brushing and tended her some oats. "Now try to rest my friend. We have miles to make when the sun rises. Good girl." He patted Thydrë's side and took his own bedroll. As he saw Raedwald also turning to sleep, he bade him good night and made a bed for himself, just some ten feet away from the other old man. When was it that they had camped together the last time? Sythric felt like asking, but was too tired to exactly go for it. Tomorrow, maybe, he thought, and fell asleep.

Even in his dreams, he was still riding.

[Valier]

Wulfham

Vaenosa awoke to Incana shaking her violently. "Vaenosa get up, get up Dorran needs our help!" Vaenosa's first reaction was to stike out at whom ever was shaking her. But her head cleared and she suddenly remembered where she was. She was not at home in her comfy down bed, she was lying on the hard ground in a clearing not far from the road. The sun was beginning to illuminate the sky, morning was approaching.

Vaenosa jumped up, her head was whirling. The men were back and they were hurt? what is going on? Vaenosa saw Incana attempting to make her way towards the lone figure that was hobbiling towards them. Incana stopped, turned and slowly made her way back towards Vaenosa and sat down, defeated on to her bedroll."Please go to their aid, they need help and I am not able to do so!" Vaenosa stood for a long second, then made her way silently to Dorran.

She came along his right side and motioned for him to lean heavily on to her. He obliged and they slowly made their way back to the camp. Vaenosa stayed quiet on the trip to the fire, but it was not strained. She did not want these particular young men to be injured or die, even at those times she had been bold and mocking towards them, she found them both intriguing and wanted to see how far she could push them. She knew at some point they would snap on her,as all men usually did, but she was always curious to see how long it would take them. She brought Dorran to Incana who was waiting anxiously.

"Where is Brand? Is he greatly injured?" Vaenosa asked. Dorran pointed towards the direction to where they had gone. "I left him a distance from here in a small clearing, he is covered in my coat. He is injured! Please hurry!" Vaenosa whistled for Nay, leapt upon his back and headed down the path Dorran had indicated. She found him not too far, lying beneath Dorran's coat. His face was bloodied, as was the ground around him. She slid from Nay's back and rushed to the fallen man.

She was unsure of what all his injurys were and was insure how to get him back without causing farther injury. "Nay my boy, I need you again. Come here." She motioned Nay to lay down and she tried to move Brand. She used all her strength and rolled him onto Nay in a sitting position. She did not want him to fall or injure himself even more on the ride back. Before she left, she scanned the area. She picked up Dorran's bloodied coat and a knife she found on the ground. As she looked to see where they had put the cat, she noticed a large Willow tree growing not far off from the dead feline. She knew that the inner bark was an analgesic or painkiller. Seeing as they would definately need some pain relief she gathered some with her dagger. She again went to the feline, grabbed it by the scruff and dug the fangs from the jaw bone. She wiped her hands on her slacks, pocketed the teeth and started back with Nay in tow.

She had to stop a few times to readjust Brand's position,and now when she pushed him back into place he let out a moan. They were approaching quickly and Vaenosa could see the fire. She motioned again for Nay to come to Brand's bedroll. She positioned Brand over her shoulder, for the quickest decent off the horse. She laid him down without to much strain and turned to face the two concious people.

"Here I found these." Vaenosa said handing Dorran his coat and the knife. "Also I brought back some Willow bark. It will help with the pain. Steep it with some tea and see if you can get him to drink some. You two should have some as well. I will be back shortly, I need to wash the blood from Nay now before he attracts any more predators." Vaenosa turned wearily towards the stream leading Nay behind her.

[Maeggaladiel]

"I'd take the next watch," Fionn began, "but people tend to show up unannounced whenever I'm left in charge. I'm too tired to make any more introductions. We'll end up with an army a thousand strong if I keep this up." He lay down on his bedroll and closed his eyes. A moment later, his eyes reopened.

"Which would apparently suit the March-Warden just fine," he added, quietly and not without some ire.

He held no grudges against either Raedwald or the newcomer Sythric; he had always admired those who rode in the Mark. But it was quite disturbing to think that the council, all of whom had seemed perfectly happy to send the small party out to Edoras, was now doubting their abilities.

Why did Bregoware send a retired Rider out as "aid?" Did they think they needed a babysitter? Were they regretting their choice in messengers? Did they expect his party to be hopelessly lost and crying like children right about now?

Fionn forced his eyes closed once more, and sleep descended upon him.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

The easterling cavalry was closing in, riding ever tighter around the perimeter of the refugee camp. They sent their lethal arrows one at the time, at least fifty arrows in the air simultaneosly. It was pure slaughter. The children were crying out in panic, their mothers wailing in agony. The men and the women were trying to find a shelter from the wagons, some of them trying to shoot back. Two or three of the wagons had already been lit by the flame-arrows, that a few of the easterlings used. The darkness of the night and the brightness of the flames made a stark contrast. Then there were those blood-chilling screams that came from the onfalling orc-army. It had emerged from nowhere, and was upon the people before they could come to grips with this new danger. Cwen was running towards her mother, face turned to despair, when the orc appeared from behind her, and swang its sword...

Sythric woke up, sweating, hearing his own heart bumping heavily and fast. It was quiet, and the stars shined calmly over the skies. He rubbed his forehead to ease the tension, but that didn’t seem to help. Slowly he rose up to sitting position and tried to relax. Nothing seemed to help: he was still shaking all over. Maybe it was just too little sleep or something...

As he seemed not to be able to get those images out from his head, he rose up, and thought of having a little walk. Maybe a chat with the guard, whoever he or she was, could release him from these dark visions. He would just have to occupy himself with something else. Sythric saw a figure standing, leaning towards a tree, some thirty feet away from him. He started to approach the figure carefully: not to make too much noise, but no to be perceived as stalking either. He would just need to have some company, not a third alarm for this party today.

[Arry]

Wulfham


Brand was barely aware as someone leveraged him up from his blankets to a sitting position and spoke to him. He could barely make out the words at first, but they were spoken in a soft voice, and he was very glad of that. His head was pounding from the fall he’d taken when the cougar landed on him. Brand struggled to open his eyes and he groaned as he raised his fingers to the back of his head, to the large knot there.

‘Drink this!’ he heard the voice urge him. It was a sharp taste on his tongue as he took a swallow of the warm tea. Willow bark! ‘Good!’ he said, his own voice barely above a whisper; the loudness of it as it rattled about his head made him wince again.

He took the cup in his hands, sipping at the brew. There was a bulky bandage of sorts on his left forearm he noted, and then recalled how the cat had clawed him. The gouges stung beneath the strips of cloth and he wondered if they would leave scars. Worse yet was his face. The right side of it felt on fire and the eye was swollen shut. Brand fingered the bandage that had been secure there. It seemed a little west, and drawing his finger tips away from it he noted they were stained with dark blood.

A grim laugh escaped him, causing him to groan again at the movement of his face. A bit of dark humor in the midst of present pain. Seeing as how he would most likely be scarred, perhaps his sisters would give up their quest to find a suitable wife for him. ‘Now that I am no longer suitable,’ he said to himself, ‘perhaps they will leave me be!’

He asked after Lady. And being told she seemed to have fared better than he, he heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Wake me at first light, then,’ he said. ‘We should get an early start.’ His voice trailed off as he lay back down; soon he was asleep.

-----

Next day . . .

He felt warm as he threw off his blankets. Opening his eyes, he could see the sun was shining brightly and already stood at the mid-day position. Brand raised himself up on one elbow and yelled out, ‘Hey!’ He was about to chastise his companions for letting him sleep when his head began to throb and his wounds ache. Brand lowered his voice and waved to someone on the other side of the fire. ‘Any of that willow bark tea left?’ he asked instead. ‘And am I still dreaming or do I smell something roasting over the fire?’

His belly rumbled hungrily with no accompanying wave of nausea. A good sign, he thought . . .

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan

In the end it was Meghan who took the last watch ‘til morning. It was not an unfamiliar thing for her to do, for often in the summer when her goats pastured far from home, it was she and her dog who shared the watches. She’d brought her small skin of water and her worn leather case with its cherrywood pipe her brother had carved for her, and the sweet pipeweed that came from far off Bree.

She sat a little ways away from the banked fire and the bodies in their blankets. She could hear Rædwald’s soft snore and she chuckled to herself. They often shared pastures for their small herds, and he would swear up and down he did not snore though she teased him good-naturedly about it often. Some of her present companions slept like logs, barely moving, and some, she noted tossed and turned as if demons from the dark forests of the north pursued them in their dreams. And perhaps they did . . . who could know, save the dreamer . . .

It grew colder as the night waned and she was glad she’d brought her brother's woolen socks and his thick wool breeches to wear. The layers of clothes hid her slender body, and about them all she’d draped a heavy wool cloak. She looked much like a small woolen mountain when she was sitting on the ground, a volcano of sorts, with her little pipe lit and the pipeweed tamped in it giving off a bright orange glow. Her herding pole lay at her side; her bow and arrows near to hand.

Outside the snores and rustling blankets, there was only the occasional soft scurrying of some small animal making its way across the frosty ground to break the night’s natural silence. And so to keep herself awake, she would rise from her sitting position and stamp her feet a bit to bring back the warmth to them and walk about a bit.

She was just thinking of resuming her seat after one such walk-about when her eye caught a hulking figure back lit by the fire’s little glow coming toward her. Her eyes darted to the quilt wrapped figures about the fire, naming each of them. There was one place where the blankets were empty.

‘Sythric! Is that you?’ she called out softly as the tall man approached. Her thick wooden pole she grasped firmly in her hand, as she always did when on guard with her goats. ‘Come closer, man,’ she said, the starlight now making his features more recognizable. ‘Was it you I saw having the bad dream? You tossed and turned like a leaf on a rushing stream. Come sit and talk and smoke a while with me. I’ll have to admit I’m tired and it would be good to hear the sound of another voice to keep me from dropping off.’

[Tevildo]

Dorran leapt to his feet, raced over to where Brand was sitting, and held out a steaming mug of willow bark tea.

"You're alright?" Dorran's voice was tentative and strained. Obvious guilt was written over his face. "Can I get you something? Anything at all. I still have some of my sister's biscuits. Or maybe you are cold? You can borrow my blanket." The young man went over to retrieve his pack, fumbled around inside, and pulled out a heavy woolen blanket, despite the fact that the day was warm and the sun shone brightly overhead.

Dorran pushed the blanket towards Brand and then confided in a lower voice, "It's my fault, you know. You wouldn't be in this mess, if I'd managed to get out of the way of that cat. I'm sorry....really sorry. I won't forget how you've helped me."

The boy ploughed ahead without waiting for an answer. "I feel so silly. I was angry at Vaenosa for making herself a nuisance, but now I've gone and done something even worse."

"Anyways, I thought I should tell you something. Vaenosa was a real help last night. Without her, we would have been in serious trouble. She brought you back to camp single handed, stoked up the fire, tended the horses, and made all of us a healing potion. Incana and I were too weak and wounded to be much help, although I'm feelng better this morning."

Dorran pointed down to his bandaged ankle and then looked around to make sure that the woman was not nearby, "I wanted to speak with her and thank her. But, truthfully, she still scares me a bit. Once or twice, I tried to say something, but she glared and I ran away." Dorran privately promised himself that, sometime in the next day or two, he would try and approach the young woman again. Out loud to Brand, he merely said, "I guess we'll wait here for today? And maybe tomorrow too? It looks as if you could stand some rest."

Before Brand could respond, Dorran added, "Oh, yes, one other thing. Do you remember those traps you laid yesterday? I haven't checked all of them, but I did find this in one." Dorran held up a good sized hare. "Would you like some stew for lunch? I found a patch of thyme and turnips just a short distance away." Dorran had resolved to plug his ears and cook the lunch, even if Vaenosa called him names.

[Nogrod]

Sythric recognized the soft voice. It was she. Well, that was a relief. Someone he knew. He had so many questions to ask her, but then kind of refrained on them. He truly was happy to see her here on guard at this moment!

"Good night my friend", he said in a low voice, "Well, it surely was me having terrible nightmares. I just had to get away from them". He looked at Meghan with a smile. "I don't know why Raedwald is here, but I do believe, that Leof was overhasty: you seem to be doing fine."

He was silent for a moment, looking at Meghan. She offered the pipe to him, and he took it.

"Then again, I 'm not sure whether I would have to say being happy to see you here or not. I just don't know, which one is the safer place: ours' here, or being with the refugees behind us. You may deduct, that my nightmares concerned those who were left behind. I really do fear for our people".

Sythric sighed, and leaned to the tree, watching Meghan intensively, pulling the pipe towards his mouth.

"But how has your ride been? Everythings' allright? I surely think, both of us "old timers" appearing from nowhere must have begged the question. But remember, that we are two more guys to wield the sword, if it comes to that. I know your father, and Raedwald is my friend. How should we go forwards? I don't have any idea, about how have you declared yourselves during the first day. So who is the leader, which are the tensions?"

He looked at Meghan, quite amiably this time. Took an easy inhaling from the pipe and puffed some semi-fine rings fron it.

[Arry]

Wulfham

Words tumbled out of Dorran like a spring freshet after a sudden thaw. Brand could not help but smile, and doing so, immediately regretted the action. ‘By the Burning Briar!’ he swore holding his hand to his face. ‘The tea, Dorran. Hand me the mug!’

When the sharp onset of pain had diminished, Brand took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘No need for “sorrys” and such,’ he told the young man. ‘You got the fiend away from Lady, and for that I’m very glad.’ He clapped the young man on the shoulder. ‘She was a beast of a cat, now, wasn’t she? We came away from it still breathing and her and her murdering get done for. There’s glad enough in that, isn’t there? And won’t it be a grand tale to tell family and friends when we get back!’ He was about to chuckle, when he thought better of it and simply nodded his head, eyes glinting mischievously. ‘Of course, we’ll have to agree on a few details, so as to back each other up. But a little fancy embroidery, as my gran used to say, always livens up a plain piece of cloth, don’t you think?’

‘Here . . . give me the hare, why don’t you. I’ll skin it out and disjoint it for us, if you’ll get the turnips and thyme you spied out.’ He took up his knife and pointed to the pot and the waterskins. ‘I can just get the meat going if you bring those to me. I’d get up myself, but things seems to swim if I move too fast.’

He settled himself in, humming a little as he worked over the hare. Dorran had gone off to gather the turnips and herbs. He’d left Brand one of his sister’s biscuits. Dipped in his tea, Brand savored the soggy snack.

It was a nice, fat hare and he could almost taste it as he put the pieces into the pot and covered it with a bit of water – cooked long enough, it would be tender enough for him to chew on. He pulled his pack over to him and fished about in one of the side pockets. There was a little leather pouch there his mother had sent along. Several large pieces of rock salt. Brand crushed a bit of it and sprinkled it over the pieces of meat.

By scooting himself carefully across the ground and pushing the pot ahead of him, Brand got up close to the fire without sending his head throbbing. He positioned the pot on some rocks right on the fire’s edge where it would soon grow hot enough to bubble and simmer.

Brand looked about the little camp, Vaenosa and Incana were nowhere to be seen. He wondered if they had gone off hunting. Picking up a long thick stick from the pile of wood they’d brought, he stirred the stewing meat a bit and readjusted the nearness of the stewpot to the fire. The effort of just that little work surprised him with how tiring it had been. He gave the meat one more stir and then leaned back against an old stump. Soon, the warmth of the afternoon and the tea he’d drunk had him drifting off to sleep.

[Naria]

Wulfham


It felt good as she opened her eyes; the sun was warm on her face. While she was having a stretch and a yawn she smelt something on the fire. Bending down she opened the lid of the pot that was positioned slightly off of the direct heat. Incana inhaled deeply, the water in the pot had just begun to boil and the rabbit inside made it smell irresistible. She wanted to take her mind off of food, just thinking about a nice hare stew was making her mouth water.

Incana wanted to see the damage her horse had left on her thigh. She unravelled the hemming and noticed a massive bruise that had already begun to change it's distinct colour and right in the middle was a perfect hoof print. It still hurt but Incana was no-worse-for-wear, so she decided to take a walk. She had not seen her horse since the onslot of the cats and wondered where Starlight was. She gave a sharp whistle and she slowly came plodding out of the bush. Incana once again greeted the mare with arms wrapped around her neck and Starlight returned the affection by nuzzling the woman's head.

Incana found Brand sleeping at camp in his bedroll and noticed Dorran picking something out of the ground; maybe for the stew she thought. She looked for Vaenosa next and remembered that she had gone to the river to wash herself and Nay after she had brought Brand to the safety of the camp the night before. Incana clicked her tongue for Starlight to follow and proceeded to find the other woman. She didn't have to look to long, Vaenosa was almost at the same spot that Incana had found the deer tracks. Incana approached the woman with caution, not sure of the mood in which Vaenosa was in that day.

Incana stood with Starlight beside her and cleared her throat to announce her presence. "Ermm, how are you today? Have you received any wounds from the events of last night?" Incana wanted to ask more, but thought better to wait and see how Vaenosa reacted to her query. The one thing that was on Incana's mind since very early in the morning was Vaenosa's terrible dream, she would need to wait and ask about it some other time.

She desperately wanted to talk with someone about the cats of last night or just nothing at all. Her family often did this, they would gather by the fireplace at night and converse about how that day had went and how the next day should go. Incana felt a sudden pang of loss and loneliness for her family and walked away from Vaenosa not wanting to wait there for a response. She had not gone too far from where the other woman was and found a big Elder tree and sat down. Incana felt tears come to her, partly an overwhelming response to the cat fight the night before but mostly to do with the isolation that she felt at that moment. She put her face in her hands and began to sob.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan

Perhaps it was the easy way in which he spoke to her, or perhaps it was just that fact that she was tired. Meghan lifted the ban she’d put on her tongue and began to speak with Sythric as if his questions were meant to be answered and not just polite convention. She took a long draw on the pipe he’d handed back to her and let the sweet smoke out slowly, as if considering where she might begin.

‘Well, Fionn is companionable enough, save that he seems so young. Now I know he and I are of an equal age, but he seems such an innocent. Were he my younger brother I would feel quite protective of him. And to be truthful, I do. I’ve never met an Orc or an Eastern man, but I think they won’t be half won over by his sweet, ingenuous smile or his guileless shrug. He is a dear . . . boy . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she looked to where Fionn slept soundly beneath his blankets.

‘And Osmod . . . hmmmm. Well, he seems our reluctant leader. That is, until you two old badgers showed up.’ She winked at Sythric, a glint in her eye. She was enjoying having someone to talk to, even though she knew he would sift through them and use what grains of truth he thought might be useful. ‘He seemed fairly sure of himself when we started out . . . but really, he’s a little too accommodating, if you ask me. Which you did, didn’t you? If I were as accommodating as him with my little herd of goats, then they would all have run willy-nilly the very first summer out to the far pastures and been picked off by the wolves.’ She raised her brows at Sythric, half expecting a reaction at her harsh assessment. But the old soldier simply puffed on the pipe she’d given back to him, nodding for her to go on. ‘I think sometimes he doesn’t want to offend anyone. That he wants everyone to like him, or if not like him, then at least not to rely on him too much.’

Meghan stamped her feet a little and rocked back and forth on them, trying to warm them. She’d stood in one place too long and the cold had crept in. ‘Come walk a bit,’ she said. ‘I need to get my blood flowing.’

They took a turn about the little camp, their eyes flicking here and there into the shadows and beyond. There was nothing untoward they could see, nothing suspicious. ‘I suppose you want to hear about us women, too, eh? The gentler sex as those story-tellers who sometime come to the Lord’s hall call us.’ She snorted and bit back too loud a laugh, looking guiltily about lest she had waked one of the others.

‘Well, we are . . . awful! Yes, quite alarming and appalling, really. Me, because I really did not want to come. It was a mistake I was chosen. I rue every foot step that takes me away from my family and my herd. And yet, it is my family’s honor that binds me to this task . . . that and my sincere wish for their safety and the safety of the village.’ She spit on the ground as if clearing her mouth of the bad taste of those words that voiced her unwanted obligation. ‘Aye, I’ll see it through . . . and then be glad at the end when I’m quit of it.’

She looped her arm through his in a moment’s act of innocent familiarity and ease, much as a daughter would do with her father. ‘I’m very glad you and dear old Rædy have come. I will feel safer with you two among us. And, no I’m not ashamed to say so.’ She scuffed a pebble out of her path with the toe of her boot.’ ‘It’s one thing to shepherd a flock of goats, dog by my side, make decisions of life and death as need be for them and for me. But . . . they are little things, really, in the light of what we are supposed to be doing here. I’m out of my depth.’ She dropped her arm from his and turned to look at him. ‘I’m glad to have someone to place my trust in.’

She walked along beside him, quiet for a while, caught in her own thoughts. He had to repeat his question twice before his words got through to her.

‘. . . the other?’ Her cheeks crimsoned and she was glad he could not see them in the dark. ‘Ah, yes . . . Well, I admitted to being awful, didn’t I. And I’ll take my part of burden for that. But Eostre . . .’ She grimaced slightly wondering if she should go on.

‘Well, the woman’s a sharp tongued witch and prickly as a cornered porcupine. I can scarce stand to be around her; and she, I think would be just as happy to see the ground open up and swallow me whole. We’ve only been out a day now, and my whole plan for surviving this little expedition has narrowed down to keeping to myself, keeping out of her way and keeping my mouth shut.’ She laughed softly and shook her head. ‘Which I haven’t done so successfully, now, have I? The keeping my mouth shut, that is.’

The two had come round to the place from which they’d started. Meghan sat down, drawing her cloak close around her. ‘I’ve talked your ear off, haven’t I? I wouldn’t be surprised you and Rædy hauled us all back to the village and told the March-warden he’d best pick out another group . . .’

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald

‘I knew it! Close my eyes for a few moments of well deserved rest and you two are talking about me!’ Rædwald came walking up to where Sythric and Meghan were sitting. He reached into the pocket of his breeches and pulled out a well broke-in pipe. ‘I smelled your smoke in my dreams, little missy. Reminded me of summers out in the eastern pastures.’

He grinned and reached out a hand. ‘Come now, hand it over to your old friend. Just a bowlful will do for me now.’ He tamped in the pipeweed and lit it with a strike from his little flint box. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said between puffs on the pipe, ‘I’ll break out my pouch and we’ll share it around.’

‘So Sythric, what’s got you up from your bedroll? Anything of interest?’ He grinned toward Meghan and then back to his old friend. ‘Or have you been letting the little lady talk your ear off.’ He stepped out of reach of her swing. ‘She chatters like a magpie if you’ll let her . . . her brother and I will attest to that.’

[Nogrod]

"Well, just bad dreams and fear. I wouldn't like to go back to them right now. But this young lady has been just as charming as I remembered her being. And most informative too." He glanced at Meghan and winked his eye to her conspirationally, smiling heartily. Then he patted her shoulder lightly. "We sure would do with some more sparrows like you during these gloomy days".

Then Sythric got to a more serious mood, addressing Raedwald. "So, what's your view of the situation? I do trust our sparrow here, as I count on Osmod. He's a good lad. His father is a friend of my brother and we've met a couple of times. Honest and hard-working boy he is. His father has taken good care not to spoil him. But how about the others? Fionn's father is a stern man I quite appreciate, so I'll have all the confidence on his offspring. But this Eostre-girl? I don't have a very clear picture of her family. I kind of think knowing her father, if he is the man I think he is. And isn't this Eostre living with her uncle or something? Meghan here told me nasty things about their relations. The one thing we can't afford, is us jumping on each other."

Sythric took the pipe that Meghan offered her again, nodded to her and puffed a fragile ring that ascended to the darkness surrounding the three of them.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald

‘Hmmm . . .’ Rædwald chewed on the mouthpiece of his pipe. There was a soft clacking sound as he moved it from one side of his mouth to the other and then back again; the stem of it sliding over the tips of his teeth as it slipped along. ‘Other than Meghan, here, whom I’ve known since she was a wee little chicklet, the only one I’ve more or less spoken with has been Fionn. Good boy, I think. Heart’s in the right place.’ He looked over at Sythric and grinned. ‘Wants to be a Rider, you know.’ He nodded his head as if considering Fionn for a moment. ‘Thought maybe once we get to Edoras I’d recommend him to one of the outer march-wardens . . . to be trained up to ride in their company.’

‘The other two, I just don’t know well enough to make comment,’ he went on, flicking his gaze for a moment toward Meghan. ‘Tis hard to be thrown together, to accomplish some task or order, with people with whom you have no natural or long term bonds. Save of course the fact that we are all from the same threatened village.’ His glance swept round to take in the group by the fire. ‘War makes strange bedfellows,’ he murmured, half to himself. Then reconsidering who was included in his statement, he added, ‘In the least offensive sense of the word, that is. And meaning no discourtesy to the ladies, of course.’

- * -

Meghan

They sat companionably, in silence, for a while; the smoke from their pipes rising in thin streamers in the cold night air. Soon, the moon set and that curious hour just before the sun’s rising was heralded in by the few birds left who had not yet flown south to warmer climes.

Meghan rose and stretched, throwing off what weariness she could. It would be a long ride yet to the river. And then there would be the crossing of it. Meghan shivered at the thought of doing that. The Great River had been the western boundary of all her short life, and the biggest piece of water she had ever seen. She’d heard many stories of its deep currents and fierce moods. ‘I’ll just stay in the middle of the raft,’ she thought to herself, not trusting her slight skills at lake swimming to be enough for an accidental dunk in the river’s water.

Rædwald had gone back to the fire and was coaxing the flames up with his offerings of wood. Sythric, too, had ambled back to where his pack lay and had begun to roll up his bedroll. There were stirrings among the sleepers as the morning noises began to intrude on their dreams.

Taking her little reed pipe from an inside pocket of her cape, Meghan played a lively little melody to welcome the new day. Her belly growled, adding its own chorus of hunger to her song. She walked back toward the fire, where Rædwald handed her a crispy piece of snake meat that had been smoking over the banked fire. ‘Eat up and see to your things and your horse,’ he directed her. He looked to the east where the first pale rays of dawn were now creeping across the land.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

After Meghan’s song, everyone was awake. The melody was catchy, and quite soon Sythric noted humming it by himself, whilst tending for Thydrë. He packed his things, but did not just yet load them on his friend. “Remember, I promised you a good night’s sleep this night, and I surely keep that promise. Just this day to carry on.” He whispered to her. Then he raised his voice a bit “Come to drink my friend!”, simultaneously he pulled gently from her reins and started walking towards the little stream that was running nearby. Thydrë followed him.

After Sythric had drank enough, he patted Thydrë to show her, that it was her own choice now, what to do next. They were ready, and they both knew that. They had been riding together for six years now, and had started to understand each others’ ways little by little, as it happens. Thydrë stayed by the stream, watching the other horses curiously.

Sythric came to the fire relit by Raedwald. Just as he was addressing the people around the fire a good morning, he saw a drawing in the sand, next to the fireplace. He stopped and studied the picture for a while. He smiled a little, and then, as he had just got an idea, walked briskly to his packings. He unpacked some of his stuff, and then came back to the fireside.

“Well. In the riding-parties, there is this old custom, that the newcomer will have to offer a meal with drinks to the seniors. So taste this dried lamb here: it’s straight from March-warden’s cellars! Carve as much you will.” He offered the lamb to Raedwald, who was sitting nearest to him. Then he produced his wineskin, offering it to Meghan sitting by the fire. “And the drink too. It’s not the best wine there is, but warms your blood a little after a cold night. I’m sorry, I can’t make offerings more lavish than these, for this seems to be the rate of splendour I have with me.”

He looked at everyone around the fire and smiled lightly. “It’s going to be a fine day, the gloom of our ride notwithstanding.”

[Arry]

Wulfham

He was sleeping soundly, a pleasant dream just running at the edges of his consciousness. There was music playing of some sort, a happy tune. He tried to catch onto it, wanting to follow where it led. But beneath the pleasant sound was one of sorrow. Someone, at a distance, was sobbing.

Brand pulled himself up from the depths of sleep, until he was completely awake. The nap and the willow bark tea had done much to take his headache away. He sat up carefully, and smiled just a little, noting that the place where the cat had clawed his face was not throbbing. Nor did he feel in the least dizzy.

The sobbing continued, and he stood up, orienting on the source. It was coming from somewhere on the river-side of the camp. Brand stood up and walked toward the water. To his right as he neared it were two or three elm trees and behind them some low growing bushes. He could see Incana’s horse, Starlight standing near one of the trees, her head bent down occasionally nudging a form huddled at the trees base. It was Incana . . . and she was the one who was crying.

Brand tred softly up to her and lowered himself to the ground so that he was sitting quite near her. She seemed so sad and so lonely.

‘What’s the matter, Incana?’ he asked softly. He extended his fingers tentatively and touched her lightly on the arm. ‘What can I do for you?’

[Naria]

Wulfham


Starlight was getting worried about her human friend and began nudging Incana. She had done this often when the woman was having a particularly hard day back home. Starlight did this as a form of comfort, not only to herself but also to Incana.
After several minutes of this Incana finally lifted her head and looked directly into the eyes of her persistent horse, "I know you love me Starlight, but leave me alone you are not quite what I am looking for right now." She gave the mare a shove and turned her head away.

Incana was about to to get wrapped up in her thoughts again when she felt a hand gently touch her arm, she heard a voice ask if there was anything that he could do for her. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that it was Brand. Sniffing back some tears she sighed and said, "I am sorry that my tears have awoken you." She paused to clear her head, "I am without family here, as so are you, but I couldn't hold back my emotions any longer when I thought of them. You see I look to you, Dorran and Vaenosa to fill this void that I have in my heart, but this didn't seem to be happening. I am not sure as to what you can do for me right now."

It seemed to Incana that Brand's presence and thoughtfulness was enough. She had stopped crying and stood to meet Brand. Incana took his hand in hers and said, "Thank you. You are truly a good man." She smiled sheepishly and started towards the camp.

[Farael]

The morning came and Osmod opened his eyes. He looked around and could see that Meghan, Rædwald and Sythric were up already, but Eostre and Fionn had not woken up just yet. He enjoyed a few more minutes in his bed-roll and slowly got up. He had gotten a good night of sleep and felt happy and good to go. He stretched and waved happily at Meghan and Rædwald who were around. Sythric was no-where to be seen, until he came back from the river. Someone had already taken the horses there to let them drink and they all followed Sythric and Thydrë back into the camp. Good horses they were, strong and smart.

By the time Sythric sat down by the fire, Eostre and Fionn started showing signs of life and finally woke up. Lucky for them, Osmod thought, that they woke up just when Sythric offered some food and drink. After a good breakfast, Osmod thanked Sythric and could not refuse to answer when he repeated his question about the drawing on the ground.

“My friends,” he said looking at them all gathered around the fire “you will think me crazy, and after too many a night slept under the stars, I might just be. But when I was little my grandmother taught me everything there is to know about camping, or so she said. She always reminded me that if I ever set camp close to a forest there were two things I had to do. One was to draw a ‘door’ for good luck and fun times to come into my camp. That door is the drawing you have seen. The other, was to sing a song to bid them welcome. I am not as good a singer as Meghan here but I hope my voice will do.”

He smiled at Meghan, and then stood up. As he sang, he paced around the fire, giving a quick glance to one of his fellow campers, a pat in the shoulder to another, just to jump ahead and sit for a moment next to yet another of them.

I now must tell, to you my friend
A story that concerns us men,
‘tis not for elves nor dwarves nor ent,
but rather ladies and us gent
Oh, Oh, Ho! ‘tis for good ladies and good men

It was one night, when Mister Fun
Tired of wasting time around
He walked into where trees abound
To spent the night upon the ground
Oh, Oh, Ho! to spend the night upon the ground

Then Lady Luck, who felt alone
And even though the moon light shone
Into the forest she walked on,
and soon enough from sight was gone
Oh, Oh, Ho! And soon enough from sight was gone

The man was searching, right and left
For a good place to get his rest
Sang to himself as he did best
For singing often helped him rest
Oh, Oh, Ho! he sang his best to get his rest

And Lady Luck who now was lost
She heard a song of beauty most
and answering with her voice, soft
she called the one she thought a ghost
Oh, Oh, Ho! she thought the man had been a ghost

But Mister Fun, who heard her song
And feeling that he must have found
The woman he had longed for long
Towards her voice, he then moved on
Oh, Oh, Ho! towards the one he longed for long

He found her there, standing alone
Pretty she was and he swore on,
The moon and stars that lead him on
To never from her side be gone,
Oh, Oh, Ho! he’d never let her stay alone

Taking a deep breath and slowing the pace of the song a little, he sang the last part looking into their eyes. Eostre came first, then Rædwald, Fionn was sitting next to him and Sythric second to last. He finally smiled at Meghan again as he sang the last line of his song

And why I tell you this, my friend…

‘cos Luck and Fun will come to them…

Who sing their song and do it well…

For they remind them of them-selves….

Oh, Oh, Ho… they bless all those who sing as well

Osmod sat down where he had began singing, his face beaming with a big smile. “Of course this is just a myth, and it mentions so many creatures that no longer exist among us. But I thought that we would need all the luck we could muster and well… having fun is always a good thing”

Still, having mentioned their quest seemed to dampen his spirits a little, and grabbing some more lamb to chew on he offered ”I know I’m no longer the leader in here, but should we not get going? I would like to be on the other side of the river well before the sun sets in the horizon”

Lead by example, he always thought, and forcing a smile on his face, he stood up again and started packing his things.

[Valier]

Wulfham

Vaenosa stood with her head bent. She was observing some footprints she spied that overlapped the Deer tracks from the day before. They were familiar to her. Her Father had shown her some just like these when she was young. He called them Warthogs. They could be visious if provoked, but they were good to eat. Vaenosa bent down and touched one of the prints, her eyes followed their direction. They led towards some underbrush.
Vaenosa was deep in thought when she hear Incana ask if she was unhurt from the day before. But before Vaenosa could answer, she was gone. A little puzzled Vaenosa figured she must have returned to camp. Looking again at the tracks, Vaenosa began to follow them. Not far into the bush Vaenosa spied what she thought she would find. A burrow, tucked under an overhang of earth. There were fresh marks around the hole. A plan was forming in her mind as she hurried back to the camp.

She hurried to her pack and pulled from it a length of rope. She was almost too occupied to notice the others. She saw Incana and Brand approaching from the direction of the stream. I better let them know I will be gone for awhile. I will keep all the details of my little plan to myself for now. The others could use a little surprise today after all that blood shed yesterday. " Incana, Brand! I would let you know that I will be gone for awhile. You should not worry, I will be not gone long and I will not be far. But could either of you keep an eye out for Nay? I don't want him following me. Without waiting for a response she gave them a sheepish smile and nod. Then she headed off without another look back.

Vaenosa stopped at the waters edge in search of a long slender stick.Peering around a fallen tree she found what she was looking for. She sat on the tree and produced her dagger, It had never seen such use. She twirled the stick in her hand, then began to shave the one side into a cruel point. Her dagger was sharp making it quick work. Taking the rope from the pouch at her side she said outloud. "Well here goes! I hope this works!" She headed back to the Burrow.

After about ten minutes had lapsed Vaenosa had fashioned her rope to a branch that hung over the entrance hole. At the other end she had a loop that stood head height for a Warthog. She crouched down in a clump off grass atop the burrow, with spear in hand. She took from her pouch some berries from the day before, squishing them in her hand she threw them in front of the noose. Then she waited...........

Even before the womans legs could cramp she heared snuffling from below her. She looked over and down to see two large tusks emerge. The beast sniffed the air, caught a whiff of the berries and headed towards them, pulling the rope taunt around his neck. He began to flail and squeel, panicking as his actions pulled it tighter. He was jumping into the air and with every leap Vaenosa was sure he would escape. She acted, Jumping down from her hiding place she thrust her spear into the animals neck. He thrashed and bit at the rope even as his life spilt forth onto the ground. He fell heaving his last breath as Vaenosa pulled the spear from his neck. She stood over the beast,her hair wild,cheeks red and heart racing....

She let out a Whoop! It had worked! Her plan worked! The squeels of the animal still ringing in her ears Vaenosa pulled the rope from it's neck and bound it's hind legs.She was covered in his blood so she heaved the animal onto her back, abondoning her make shift spear and headed back to camp with her surprise.

Walking back she could not wait to see the look on her fellow travellers faces. She had brought them food. They could count on her to provide for them even if their brave men could not. Approaching the fire Vaenosa called out. " Well I say I have a surprise for all of you! I caught us dinner and breakfastl! I would like to cook it as well, for in my family the women cook. She said looking towards Dorran. But you see this was just luck that brought me this kill and I have not sleep since I left my home, but for a brief fitful sleep last night. I will sleep now if one of you doesn't mind cleaning and preparing this feast. I shall awaken in awhile to cook it myself or to take over if you decide to start it......Well okay then." Vaenosa said after a little discomfort with the whole thing, she would rather do it herself but exhastion was threatening to take over. She turned toward her bedroll, she climbed in and passed out....

[Arry]

Wulfham

What a curious breed are human females! He found Incana’s reaction to his offer of comfort disquieting. She’d held his hand and thanked him, then turned from him with an embarrassed smile and walked away. Now, Brand had older sisters, but none of them were in the least shy or perhaps the word, ‘delicate’, would be closer to the point. And Incana seemed delicate, like a flower almost. He shook his head wondering what he should do, if anything. And decided in the end just to catch up to her.

Not too far away, he could see Vaenosa exerting some effort to haul an animal into camp. ‘Now what’s she got there?’ he asked, pointing to the largish animal that lay on the ground in front of her as she stopped to talk to Dorran. ‘We’d better go see,’ he said to Incana, giving her a quick smile. ‘Looks to me she might need help skinning it out.’

When they got closer, Brand could see the displeasure with which Dorran listened to Vaenosa as she spoke to him. Taking a deep breath, he simply shrugged it off.

His eyes went appraisingly to the boar. It was a large one and would give them much meat for the days ahead. He drew his knife and wiping the blade on his trousers' leg he went over to it and began to peel back the skin.

Someone might want to build up the fire,' he called out, intent on the task at hand, there will be a lot of meat to cook here . . .'

[Tevildo]

Staring doggedly at the branches and logs that they had piled up on the far side of camp, the young man squirmed uncomfortably as he tried to pretend he hadn't seen Vaenosa give him a look at the mention of cooking the meat. Frankly, he was sick of the references to his cooking. As someone acquainted with a considerable amount of loss and hurting, he'd already guessed that Vaenosa was angry about something that had happened in her past. Dorran could understand feeling like that. He had no wish to quarrel with her. He only wanted to get along.

The boy shuddered involuntarily and bit his lip as a sharp, unwelcome image of an Orc beating a woman with a heavy wooden cudgel studded with iron nails abruptly crept into his mind. Before his Aunt Raven had passed, she had once confided to the boy that his first few years in Wulfham had not been easy for either her or the other Rohanites. Although barely six at the time, Dorran had been angry and sullen, unwilling to speak about what had happened to his parents or the series of ugly events that had compelled them to flee to Rohan. But over the years, that anger had been crammed back into a tiny space in the depths of his mind, and he liked to keep it that way. It was only when he thought about Orcs that these feelings threatened to burst forth.

Maybe Vaenosa thought about men the same way that he regarded Orcs? Dorran shuddered slightly. He could not imagine being anywhere near an Orc. But he still could not figure out why Vaenosa felt this way about every single human male. And even more importantly, if she did hate all men, why had she wanted to go on this mission? Surely, she recognized how important this venture was for the safety of everyone in the village, including her own family and friends. Squabbling did nothing but get in the way. An unexpected, disturbing question raised its head. What if someday he was in a situation where he'd have to learn to cooperate with Orcs, or imperil the safety of someone he loved? But that would be ridiculous! Such a thing would never happen within his lifetime.

In an attempt to shake off his moodiness, Dorran rose to his feet, limped over to the edge of the encampment, and dragged back several logs and smaller branches, banking up the fire. All the while, he kept thinking how much he missed his sister Criede and her straightforward ways.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


. . . And Lady Luck who now was lost
She heard a song of beauty most
And answering with her voice, soft
He called the one she thought a ghost
Oh, Oh, Ho! she thought the man had been a ghost

But Mister Fun, who heard her song
And feeling that he must have found
The woman he had longed for long
Towards her voice, he then moved on
Oh, Oh, Ho! towards the one he longed for long

He found her there, standing alone
Pretty she was and he swore on,
The moon and stars that lead him on
To never from her side be gone,
Oh, Oh, Ho! he’d never let her stay alone . . .

‘Well now, that is a pretty little song!’ Meghan lifted her pipe to her lips and played along with the last verse. ‘Who knew,’ she said, grinning impishly at him when the song was done, ‘that someone who spends his time among those great dumb beasts of cows with their out of tune voices, would have such a fair voice himself!’

Her good mood was overshadowed with his next words. ‘I know I’m no longer the leader here . . .’ She watched as he seemed to force a smile to his face and went about the business of getting ready to go.

Despite the fact she would feel better if one of the more seasoned warriors were to take the group in hand, Meghan wondered what sort of resentment this might breed in the group. Forgetting she had laid it upon herself to keep her opinions and questions to herself, she voiced the question that had formed in her mind. Her eyes darted around the group . . .

‘So, who is to be leader, now?’