Outracing the Flames RPG

[Valier]

Wulfham

Vaenosa rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up in her bed roll, she had not slept well and her lower back was aching. Brand suggested to the men that they should try their luck at catching some fish. Frowning Vaenosa thought to herself why had he not asked her? Perhaps he thought now that there were three women, she would want to spend her time with them. Vaenosa was unsure as to how to approach the young girl, she felt for her, but crying girls was some thing she really did not know how to handle.

Standing now she searched for Nay. She hoped he was not being to much of a bother. He seemed to take a liking to the dog and was quickly following him and Brand to the waters edge. "Nay! For the last time, you are not a dog!" He turned his head, gave her a nicker then continued on his way. She did not want him splashing and prancing, scaring all the fish away. Hurring towards him she pulled his mane and directed him away from the water.
"Sorry boy, not this time. You will scare the fish!" She gave him a slap on the rump, directing him towards the other horses. "Go bother them for awhile."

Now mulling around, Vaenosa was unsure what to do with herself. She was not keen on conversing with the women and the older man Leod was slightly scary to her. So she decided to see if Brand knew of the way to tickle fish out of the water.

Heading slightly down stream she rolled up her leggings and entered at a shallow part. Her father had taught her this trick. It took a long time to learn, but the satisfaction of catching a fish was worth it. She headed towards a slight over hang where the fish would be lazing in the morning sun, with her fingers dangling in the water. She motioned for Brand to watch and be ready. Painstakingly slow she moved toward a shadow in the water. She odulated her fingers slightly with the current until her fingers touched the underside of the fish. With one quick motion she grabbed it by the gills and tossed it on to the bank, hoping Brand had seen her signal and would fetch it before it found it's way back into the river.

Hopping out of the water she pushed the cold water from her legs and headed towards Brand, who had his foot on the slippery fish." I know it's not as reliable as a line, but it sure is fun and refreshing!" She stated to Brand with a coy smile. " I would not mind helping with the fish,for awhile anyways." She said as she looked to see if the older man was coming towards them yet. " I uummmm can do something else if you think that the men can handle this." "She was beggining to become more familiar with the men at camp, but now there was a new unknown, untrustworthy, older man in their midst that made her uncomfortable.She was slightly embarrassed at the way she let her guard down around Brand, this was unacceptable and would no doubt lead to some mistake on her part.

Thinking again Vaenosa decided she best stay away from the men today in case her temper should flare. "uuummmm actually", she said to Brand. " I think I shall ready the horses and groom them as well, before we head out again." Taking the fish from Brands hands, trying not to touch his skin, she turned away from him quickly, almost like a shy child would and headed back. What did she care what this man thought of her. She hated men....yes that was it! She had no need for companionship, or even love, these were for the beautiful and well spoken women. Not a wretched, ugly woman such as herself. She was only a used up vessel of a woman, with no feelings towards others except distain." This is what you deserve! You need no friends! just remember that!" She muttered to herself as she wrung her hands around the fish tearing the scales from it's back. Looking down at what she'd done, she blushed. Now the fish was ruined and the meat bruised. "Perhaps it is good enough for our men!" Vaenosa said, the distain rising in her voice again. Her head was reeling with the thoughts of someone actually wanting to be her friend, let alone lover. " Perposterous! Stop this nonesense!" With that Vaenosa became quiet again.
She tossed the fish near the fire without looking at the others in camp and almost ran to get away from their questioning looks. She headed towards Nay who did not care who she was, or who she had been...He loved her anyways.

[Tevildo]

Dorran watched in silence as Brand headed down the path that led towards the river. The visit to the ravaged village had shaken the young man to the core. The harsh reality of the Orc raid had brought back harsh memories that Dorran thought he had lain to rest long years before. The night before, he'd sat quiet and alone, eating his meal and making little attempt to converse with anyone. Dorran wished his sister was here. He could have talked with her. Yet, at the same time, he was grateful that she had not seen the disheveled streets and houses with their ugly images of death and destruction.

Hearing Brand's request, Dorran gulped down the rest of his tea and scrambled to his feet, eager to be on his way. It would be better to do something rather than sit here and think about things that could not be changed.

"Leod, are you ready?" he called over to the older man who had just finished sorting through his satchel of herbs.

"Yes, yes, one minute," the latter replied. Stashing his bag under the bedroll, Leod quickly followed Dorran out from camp, both men walking in the direction that Brand had gone just a few minutes before. "I don't even have a pole," grumbled Leod. "I left it back at the cottage. I should have remembered to take it along, but I refuse to go back there."

"Don't worry" Dorran assured him. "I have a string and hook of my own, and Brand will probably have brought something from the supplies. He's very good at preparing things ahead of time."

Leod curtly nodded, and then added a brief question, "How long have you known Vaenosa? She seemed a bit skittish last night. I offered to bandage a small abrasion on her leg, and she gave me a look that would have curdled milk."

Dorran stifled a slight grin, "Not much longer than you have, Leod. Yes, it'll take a while for her to warm up. She's had a tough time in life, at least as far as men go, and I think it's rubbed off on her words and actions. She'll come around. Just give her a chance."

Leod wondered how long this "coming around" might take and just why the woman was so prickly, but then supposed that the whole thing was none of his business. Anyways, he had far more serious things to think about. They needed to replenish their foodstuffs and take off at a good clip to reach Edoras as soon as possible. Rounding the bend in the path, he could see Brand a short distance ahead. The latter had knelt down beside the river and now stood up to beckon to the men.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

It's a shocking feeling to wake up and discover that the sun is already peeking over the horizon when one is accustomed to rising long before the first touches of red begin to taint the upper horizon. It's even more shocking to wake up a cynic and feel a sense of grief at being unnaccepted, unappreciated, and someone scarcely there. Thus far, Eostre thought to herself, Sythric had been the only one to even attempt to speak with her politely...

And that had probably been just because of suspicion.

She rose, rerolling her bedding almost immediately into a tight bundle, and slipping her boots and belt on before stepping off of it. It was a chilly morning, although perhaps made all the more chilly by the overwhelming feeling of death that permated the land from the village beyond the hill.

Was there anyone even left on this side of the hill? No, it seemed only the two elder members of their party out of her sight now, she thought. But if any had taken sleep in easily, she knew no certainty.

It felt so empty here, now.

[Arry]

Wulfham

‘My goodness,’ thought Brand as he watched Vaenosa walk back toward the camp. ‘I’m going to put this down as a day to remember. We actually had a few light-hearted moments together!’ She had seemed relatively at ease as she’d shown him how to catch a fish with her hands. And she'd spoken to him in a companionable way. But now he could almost see her stiffen as she walked away, as if all the old pains and worries had her firm in their grasp again. ‘Well, perhaps tomorrow will be better,’ he said to himself. He was glad she had gone to groom the horses. She had a good way with them. And being with them, especially her own, seemed to bring her some measure of ease and happiness.

He decided it best not to brood over the 'whys' and 'wherefores' of her sudden mood change and went back to sorting out the coils of lines he’d brought. Each had a sharp little curved hook on it, and he was wondering what sort of bait the fish might take this morning. They were fussy little things, these trout, and just as apt to turn their noses up at something as to bite at it.

He heard Leod and Dorran as they crunched down the path toward him and stood up to greet them. He’d been kneeling down to secure his lines to some of the slender tree roots. Once there was suitable bait he could let the lines drift out from the bank, into the deeper pools where the wily fish gathered, resting from the current.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said, hands on hips as he turned to face them. ‘I suppose the fish are the same here as up north, but still, what do you think would be best to use for bait, Leod? Some of those shriveled berries on that bush there? Or would they like a little bit of dried meat on the hook, eh?’ He grinned at the both of them. Or shall we just plunge in and see about netting them?’

[Folwren]

Wulfham

Athwen woke the next morning a little after the sun had risen. She had slept without waking and without dreaming that night - completely worn out from the previous day’s actions and emotions. Every limb felt heavy as she slowly sat up and her head had a dull ache. For some minutes, she was aware of nothing, except the fire, at which she blinked at several times. Then she stirred herself and looked around. The places where everyone else had slept were empty, and no one was around except for Incana - the one who had seemed to take her under her wing the night before. The young woman knelt with a knife in her hand, deftly slitting open a newly caught fish and cleaning it. She raised her eyes briefly as Athwen stirred and gave her a small, half shy smile.

‘Good morning,’ she said quietly, almost testing her ground.

Athwen nodded in reply and answered out of habit, whether it was a good morning or not. ‘Good morning.’ There was a slight pause. Athwen pushed loose hair back from her face. She felt dull and heavy in thought and body and she couldn’t account for it. Incana returned to her work and Athwen watched quietly for a moment before asking, ‘Where is everyone else?’

‘The men are gone fishing,’ Incana answered, motioning towards the river with her knife, ‘and Vaenosa is over there with the horses.’

‘Leod is with the other two?’ Athwen asked.

‘Yes, he is. They all went down as soon as getting up.’ Athwen paused a moment, and her eyes rested on the fish. Her stomach turned with uncommon sickness at the sight and she drew back involuntarily. What was it? The sight of the entrails, perhaps. . .but it had never bothered her before. . .before yesterday. Incana noticed the slight reaction and she put down her knife quickly and wiped her hands on the grass. ‘Can I get you something to eat or drink? I think Brand made tea this morning and it’s still hot.’

‘Oh. . . no. . . but thank you. You are busy and I don’t really need anything right now.’ She got up quickly and brushed the stray grasses from her skirt. ‘I’m going to go look for him. Leod, I mean,’ she said. ‘Where are they again?’

‘They’re over by the river. A little down stream, I think, but I’m not positive. Haven’t left camp this morning yet and that was only the general direction they went in.’

‘Thanks. I’ll be able to find them now.’ She turned and walked slowly away. As she went, she absently combed the tangles and foreign objects from her long hair with her fingers. A natural, girlish thought rose in her jumbled mind and she snorted in disgust as she looked at a handful of the golden locks. ‘My hair is a mess,’ she grumbled aloud. With a slight sigh, she pushed it back over her shoulder and continued on.

In a few minutes, she reached the river side. She climbed down the slight embankment to the sandy edge and looked up and then down river in search of the three fishermen. In a moment she caught sight of them and she quickly made her way towards them, following the river, but being careful that she did not touch the water and cause some sort of nuisance.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

As people had gathered around the fire to wait for the tea, Sythric addressed them all. “It’s nice to see we have all slept well last night, at least somewhat”. With that he looked joyously at Meghan and Osmod, and then to Raedwald. “we had quite a day yesterday, and I think we all feel it in our muscles still. But I have slept very well last night indeed. I don’t know why, but I have. It’s kind of a mystery to myself too.” He looked over all the others before continuing.

“I’m sorry, if I was a bit detached or melancholic yesterday. I was just tired and sore about all this going on. But now I think I could be of some help to us all, if you wish. I have my vices, but they could turn out to be my virtues this morning. I’ve dropped the habit of a morning-tea a long time ago. I prefer a sip of wine to wake me up. When you ride with a border-watch, you normally don’t have time or courage to make a fire, so some wine will have to do. And the effect is similar as it too warms you from the inside.” He smiled heartily, mostly to Raedwald, but to the others too.

“I could take a quick look at the Scyffold and what’s left of it. Just to have some idea, what has happened there, and more importantly, when it has happened? We still might have to bring these stories to the king, and just looking at the near future for ourselves, I would very much like to know, whether there could be an army of orcs within a day’s length of us, or just further away.” That last thought seemed to have silenced the others, at least they didn’t comment. So Sythric rose up.

“I could pack Thydrë just now. I would be leaving as the sun properly rises, and would give me some light to see around there. It’s up to you then to decide, whether you want to come in and have a look yourselves, or would you prefer to ride past those horrors and evil sights. If I don’t see you at the village center by the time sun climbs over those hills there”, Sythric pointed to the hills east from where they were sitting, “then I’ll be seeing you at the south-west corner of the village? That would give you something like an hour, or a bit less, to have your teas, to pack and get going. Would that suit you?”. He looked at Osmod, who had just received a steaming hot cup of tea. As Osmod seemed to be collecting his ideas, Sythric continued a bit more still: “Don’t you worry about me. I have seen enough corpses – friends and foes – that I can handle this one. It will not be a nice view to be had down there.” He made a pitiful try to smile with this last one, but managed to wink his eye towards Raedwald without others seeing it.

I hope this will work. It's always better to acquaintance yourself first with a dead orc, rather than one that's all alive and intending to kill you. Sythric thought to himself. Seeing some horror today would prepare them, and they would have seen, what the orcs generally look like, in reality, not just from the imagery of the tales and as visualized by wild imagination (which always seemed to underestimate the horror of real bad things in the end)... Hopefully Raedwald saw my intention in me kind of boasting my toughness, as a challenge to these young people? I'll count on him.

[Farael]

Sythric left the camp early and made his way down towards the burned village. Osmod had noticed the old man was thinking more than what he was saying, but could not figure out what it was. Surely he was not eager to go into that village, no-one would. Yet the village was on their way and so Osmod packed his things up and lead the group downhill. Sythric had given them plenty of time to get there and so they would have time to go around the burned houses and the dead orcs. ”Why? I have seen them once, and that is once too many times. Those wretched creatures deserve no better than to become food for any stray animal that will want to stomach them. If any ever do. He looked up to where Fion was riding and waited until the man looked at him before speaking ”I won’t be staying in the village today. We must not forget our mission and someone has to scout ahead. I know I did the same thing yesterday, but if you want to stay in the village and wait for Sythric I’ll just get ahead by myself. Let me warn you, it is not a pretty sight”

The group rode on, mostly in silence. The horses picked their way down the slope carefully, each of them feeling restless as they smelt the decayed bodies and torched houses. Not to mention burnt flesh. The riders also grew restless, their most primitive instincts blaring warnings their minds tried to put to rest. In Osmod’s case, it was to no avail.

At last, they reached the outskirts of the town. A big orc awaited them, with a defiant look on his face. He was leaning against what seemed to be the only wall left standing of what had been a small cottage, his sword was lying on the ground within easy reach of his hand. Osmod’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword before he realized that it would not be necessary. The orc was dead, an arrow lodged on his neck. Shuddering with disgust, Osmod wheeled around and looked at the rest of the group. ”I’ve made up my mind. Things look very different under the sun light, but not any better. I will ride through the town and out on the south side and get ahead while at least some of us wait for Sythric. I don’t want to ride alone, not now that these beasts may be are nearby. Would any of you like to join me?” He looked at their stern faces. They were all brave, there was no doubt about it. Osmod hoped he would not fail them, as he felt they would never fail him.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric packed Thydrë with care and precision of someone, who had done that a thousand times. He talked to her quietly, pacifyingly, for he knew, what they were up to. If humans didn’t like corpses, neither did horses. He knew that all too well. Thydrë was indeed his fifth horse by now, almost the most longlived companion of his. That meant not counting the brave Gillsfang, the horse of his life, from his last days back with the riders and sometime back home too. She surely was the horse of the horses – at least to what Sythric knew of them! They really had been friends, not just a man and a horse, which was to say quite a lot with Rohan people, but they really were friends. But Thydrë here, was also the one to have seen the least of the bad things he had shared with his earlier horses. So he tried to be as gentle with her as he could, but still thought, she would have to do this, for her own sake, and for his. "Maybe there are bad times to come. You should acquaintance yourself with it, for one day, both of our lives may depend on it....", he whispered to her, quietly.

After mounting her, he waved to the others, that were just getting up from the fireplace, and left it to Thydrë to pick up the path downwards. He was even kind of teasing her to to make all the fun out of it. And she galloped, she surely did! Sythric had to really put his best to keep himself in the saddle. He laughed, and Thydrë seemed to be enjoying this one as well. But as they eventually reached the level ground, she also knew, what they were up to – and he knew, that she knew. He pulled her to a gait, and they entered the burnt village with a slow pace, Sythric leaning forwards, whispering to her all the comforting things he could come up with (strangely, it was an age-old tune he had not heard in ages that came to his mind, and which he hummed to her in the end).

As they reached the center of the village, Sythric left Thydrë to a place that was under the wind, so that she wouldn’t have to face the worst stinking of the beginning-to-rot orc-bodies. For a while, he thought of covering his own face with a linen, but then decided not to start to unravel Thydrë’s packages at this moment.

He went to the remains of the funerary pyre. It was still warm! If these good people had just piled and lighted this pyre, they still would be less than a day’s ride – or walk – away... and if they watched for the pyre to consume itself, they would be very near indeed! Even though Sythric was thinking about “the good people” , he realized instinctually to have stood a bit more upright, looking and listening for any signs from the envirovement, his hand touching the hilt of his sword. There was no movement, no sound anywhere, but that of the crows and other scavenger birds picking up to gather for their feast. No dogs either... That sent some gloomy ideas into his head, but he soon dropped them off.

These good people couldn’t be the people from Aernanaes. This was not on their path, as they seemed to be camping much more north-west from us. Were there any other villages, that would be nearby? Thingland indeed, but that was so much further south, that the people from that town would have nothing to do here, at least in times like these! And anyhow, the remains of the fire were quite modest, even if there clearly seemed to have been lots of souls to be freed with it. A whole village, paying honour to their fellows, would have had a more outstanding fire. That one would burn even now... But maybe there are some survivors? It would just fit. But where are they now, and should we go looking after them? Sythric looked around, in vain, to see for any movement even farther away, at any direction. It was just still – the crows notwithstanding. We have a mission, but then again, we could at least direct them to the nearest refugee-parties, and anyhow help them in someway: give them food, first-aid, anything. Who knows in what situation they are in?

Sythric got back from the pyre and started to inspect the charred remains of the house nearest to him. Not more than two days ago, maybe less? He scratched the ash from one of the logs to find, that it was somewhat warm still from inside. Glimmering ash, like a very new one, and warm wood inside. Should be yesterday morning, very early, or something... Lastly he took to see some of the orc corpses left around. They had the distinctive stink of an orc, but also the sweet and appalling scent of a body starting to decay. But that was not so bad, maybe two days, at most?

So what could he make out from this? The sun seemed to have risen to just climb over the hills he had shown the others as a mark. He would just wait for a little while, and if the others wouldn’t turn out, he would ride to the South-West corner of the town. He went to appease Thydrë, and thought.

Then he heard the familiar voices: chickens! It was not far away. He mounted Thydrë in an instant and took her to the direction of the voices. Thydrë seemed to have felt both the ease of getting a bit away, and the tension of Sythric. She really made a run for it. They found the couple of chicken quite easily. There were four of them. Sythric broke their necks quickly. Soon the chicken were tied together by their broken necks, on a small string. After that Sythric went on after the eggs. There should be some here, because it would be at least one day before this murder and plundering. He managed to find six eggs. Then he realized, he should be back, to meet the others.

[Arry]

Wulfham

Brand knelt down by the water's edge, a large leather pouch open by his side. He’d gathered some moss and was dipping it into the cold river and then wringing out what extra moisture he could. He began to layer it in the pouch with the first of the fish they’d caught. Dorran and Leod were further down from him, checking the lines.

From behind him, he heard the soft crunch of boot-steps against the sandy, pebbly shore. ‘Done with the horses so soon?’ he called, still intent on the covering the last layer of trout. ‘Grab the net, why don’t you,’ he went on. ‘We’ll give the big pool a try . . .’ He stood up, wiping his wet hand on his thighs, and turned round. A look of surprise crossed his face.

‘Oh! Sorry! I thought you were Vaenosa, come back to help.’ A smile lightened his features. ‘Can I do something for you, Athwen?’

[Folwren]

Wulfham

Athwen returned the smile and bent to pick up the net he had demanded. 'No. But apparently I can help you.' She handed it to him. 'I was actually coming to look for Leod. Is he anywhere about?' Brand opened his mouth to respond as he turned and motioned with his hand, but Athwen caught sight of the two others almost as soon as she asked the question. 'Oh, never mind, I see them,' she said quickly. 'Are you. . .' she paused uncomfortably. 'You are Dorran? No, Brand, right?'

He smiled again and nodded encouragingly. 'Yes, that's right. Dorran's my companion there.' Athwen nodded, biting her lip slightly, a rather old and unconcious habit of hers when she didn't know quite what to say next. Leod and Dorran were in the middle of the river and there was really no way she could reach them conveniently. She decided to wait for them to come back, and until then, to speak with Brand.

'I. . .should thank you for asking me to come with you,' she began again, dropping her eyes and looked at her feet for a moment. Glancing up briefly at intervals, she continued in a moment. 'I can't remember much of what you told me yesterday, though. You were going to Edoras, if I recall. What for exactly?'

[Maeggaladiel]

"I'll join you," Fion said to Osmod. He had no desire to remain in that charred village any longer than he needed to. And he had no desire to look weak and hesitant in front of Raedwald, Meghan, and Eostre. Fion suspected that most of them-- Eostre and Raedwald in particular-- saw him as nothing more than a foolish child. That morning, while he was trying to feign sleep for a little while longer, he had caught a soft and humorous exchange between Meghan and Raedwald: "If it hadn’t been for young Fionn, tossing and turning in his blankets, I would have slept right through ‘til daybreak!"

Young Fionn can't handle the horrors of war. Young Fionn should just go home and tend his chickens, as Young Fionn is just as silly and featherbrained as they are. That was pure angry exaggerating on Fionn's part, to be sure, but Raedwald's comment had hit a nerve.

Fionn thought Raedwald had been sincere when he asked him about joining the Riders. But now, he could see that it had all been a jest. And the joke was on him. They were all laughing at him, or shaking their heads in pity behind his back. Poor little Fionn thinks he can take on the world.

Were they laughing at him, or was it just his imagination? Fionn didn't dare look over at their faces. What did they really think of him? He had his own ideas about Eostre's opinion, and one or two new outlooks on Raedwald's, but what about Meghan and Osmod?

Fionn wasn't sure what he should do, but he did know that he'd be better off with Osmod while he thought about it.

[Arry]

Wulfham

‘Let’s get some use out of this net while we talk, eh?’ Brand pointed to a fair sized eddy pool just upriver. ‘My grandfather taught me this. He’d been down to The River’s bay, and saw some of the lesser folk fishing in this way.’ He held up the round net with its little iron weight-pieces tied all about the edge. It was nearly his height, its weighted edge just off the ground above his bare feet.

Athwen had crept to the pools edge and noted where the school of trout lay in the slow moving currents. Brand looped the retriever cord about his right wrist and gathered up half the net in practiced folds. With a smooth motion he threw the net out towards the water, aiming for the place Athwen had indicated. They both watched as it hung in the air for the briefest of moments then dropped to the river’s bed.

‘Here! Catch hold of the line!’ He motioned her nearer and showed her where to place her hands, near his. They pulled the retrieval cord steadily and were soon rewarded with a goodly number of fish.

‘Now, to answer your question . . .’ He crouched down opening the net to retrieve the wriggling trout. ‘We are bound for Edoras, to the King’s Hall, actually.' His dark blue eyes regarded her gravely. ‘Our March-warden, Lord Aldwulf of Wulfham, received news that bands of Orcs and Easterlings were raiding closer and closer in toward the borders. We four are sent to the King with letters asking that he send some Riders out to secure our village as we make the slow march toward Edoras and safety.’ He shook his head, looking out over the broad width of the river. ‘Lord Aldwulf did not know the foe had already passed the borders.’ His face was a mixture of great sadness and banked anger. ‘Your own village . . . its fate at the hands of the Orcs . . . has brought this fact, what was only grim words in tales told us, all too much to reality for us. The flames of war lick at our heels now, it seems. Once we have replenished our foods; then we must ride hard toward the Golden Hall.’

Brand looked up at her, his gaze taking in her slender frame, noting how young she looked. He wondered how well she would do on the ride. In the end, though, it made no difference, he supposed. She and Leod could not be left to fend for themselves. We men of the Mark cannot leave our own people behind.

He snorted quietly, his eyes narrowing. Now look at you Brand, son of Aidan . . . what’s come over you? Man of the Mark,eh? ‘Twill be some larger boots to fill. He gave a half smile, thinking perhaps this new thought might soon feel comfortable enough.

‘Best we stow these fish in the pack here before they flop themselves back to the water,’ he said aloud, grabbing for the wriggling forms.

[Folwren]

Athwen was quite aware that she was being sized up as Brand finished telling her what their business was. More likely than not, he found her wanting, though his face didn't betray such thoughts.

'Best we stow these fish back in the pack here before they flop themselves back to the water,' he said, looking down at their catch.

'Oh,' Athwen said, somewhat surprised. 'I thought. . .aren't you going to cook them first? I mean. . .' She blundered rather miserably over her words and Brand looked up. 'My brother and I used to alwayst put them on a sharpened stick to carry them home. Stuck it through the gill and then through the mouth. You don't?' She looked rather quizically at him.

But before he could answer her, they were hailed by Leod and Dorran who were returning. Athwen looked up and took a few steps away from Brand. 'Good morning,' she said, nodding to Dorran and giving Leod a faint smile. 'Brand just caught a whole net full of fish and we were about to go back to the fire. I guess you are coming, too?' Of course they were. But there was still the question of the fish. 'Leod. . .he's about to stick these raw fish, still alive, in that pack of his. That can't be right. Can it?'

[Tevildo]

Leod thought for a moment and then reassured her, "Either way will do. I think we'll be fine with the fish in the satchel. It's only a short walk to camp. We can clean and gut them as soon as we arrive. Now going back to our village is another matter because the walk is so much longer. I can remember many a time that I warned the Crawford twins not to stash the fish in their bags." There was genuine enthusiasm in Leod's voice as he continued his explanation, "Usually, I carry my fish from the river in a bucket of water to make sure they're nice and fresh. I have a small table in my yard where I clean and dress them. Then I gather some of the fallen branches from the oaks that grow at the far edge of Old Granny's land and...."

Abruptly, Leod stopped and stared down at the ground, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. There was an awful moment of silence. He had said too much. There was no village anymore. Both Old Granny and the twins had been killed, like all their other friends and neighbors. The last thing this young woman or the others wanted to hear was how wonderful it had been in the good old days before the Orcs had come.

Uncertain what to do or say to compensate for his blunder, inwardly seething with frustration, Leod snapped at Athwen in a peevish voice, "Enough of that nonsense. We've got more things to think about than fish. Let's just get back to camp quickly so we can get out of here as soon as possible. This whole place gives me the willies."

The group plodded down the path, with no one brave or foolhardy enough to try and start another conversation. As they finally reached the camp, Dorran grabbed the pack and curtly offered to clean and cook the fish. The young man seemed just as distraught as Leod. He knelt down a short distance from the fire and jerked out his knife, removing the heads and tails and then cutting and deboning the fish with a few swift hacks of his blade.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Now remaining to wait for Sythric, Eostre mindlessly found that she had to count the heads of those in their party waiting before she was able to slip into the dull, yet somehow demeaning stare she ordinarily wore. Three. Meghan, her (her being Meghan) brother's friend—or at least ally, and herself. A hint of a snort crossed her face. Meghan, who dispised her, and someone who surely wore the same contempt...

But just perhaps her view had altered the smallest bit over Fionn. He made himself out to be naive, from what she had saw of him. Naive, unable to handle the terrors war would surely throw at him.

He only went with Osmod to prove a point. To prove that he was more than a farmboy, she thought to herself. Perhaps to show off for Meghan—faugh, who doesn't love Meghan? Osmod seems to show some degree of facination with her, she seems to share that, or perhaps direct it towards little Fionn...

Eostre rubbed her fingers mindlessly over her mount's ears, beginning to feel the chill of winter setting in distantly, even in warm clothing. It would be a cold ride to Edoras, if they made it that far. If there wasn't an ambush staring them in the face.

It was the cynic in her that caused her to glance back, to make certain that her baggage was still on her horse, tightly strapped where the wind wouldn't blow it away. Perhaps it's not that I'm hated, simply that I'm feared. That's going to kill us if it comes to life or death...

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


‘Why exactly are we waiting here?’ Meghan readjusted the battered leather pack that held the most of her belongings, lashing it more securely to the back of her saddle. Let’s ride out and meet him.’ She mounted up and rode toward the center of the village, not caring who or if anyone followed after. She’d already seen the burned bodies in the moonlight and there had been no Orcs about then – even less chance that they would be a problem now. But just in case, hung her bow at the front of her saddle, close at hand, and nearby was her quiver of arrows.

Sythric had said he would be at the southwest corner of the town. ‘No need to go near the main square,’ she said as they entered the town proper. ‘Unless of course, you want to see where the dead were put afire.’

‘If not, then let’s head directly to where Sythric said he would meet us.’ Meghan kicked her mount lightly in the flanks and urged her on.

[Folwren]

Wulfham

Athwen went to where she had slept when they arrived at the camp. Having nothing to fill her hands with, she stood with them clasped behind her back, looking out across the gently waving grass. Unconciously her eyes were drawn in the direction that the village had once stood and in a moment, she became aware of it, and a wave of grief passed over her suddenly, catching her unaware. She caught her breath against sudden tears and clamped her mouth shut firmly.

Abruptly, she turned away, dropping her eyes and bowing her head as she did. A moment of perfect misery passed over her as she struggled hard not to break down under the utter feeling of loss and sorrow. It was over in a minute, but it left a shadow that she could not shake. She looked up and walked to Leod. Laying her hand on his arm, she asked quietly, though not quite in his ear as she was several inches too short:

'Where are the horses? I would like to check on mine.'

He glanced at her briefly and she knew by the expression in his eyes that he saw right through her feelings. But he didn't keep the gaze for long. He looked up and to his right. 'Over there, lass,' he answered, nodding in that direction. A brief, shadow of a smile crossed her face.

'Thank you,' and without another word she let go his arm and walked quickly towards them. In a moment she caught sight of one horse's hindquarters and tail behind some bushes and rounding them, she came upon the entire group. Her horse gave a low nicker when he saw her and walked rather lazily to her at once.

'Sorry, my little fellow,' she said, extending her hand as he sniffed at it eagerly. 'I don't have anything today. Do they treat ye well, lad?' And as she put the question to him she began to run her small, expert hands quickly over his body and legs.

Anything to keep my mind off it all, she told herself, pursing her lips as she felt his knee and then slipped down to the hock. Anything. But even as she thought it, she leaned forward into his shoulder, screwing up her face and begining to cry softly.

[Naria]

Wulfham


"Wonderful," she said as the group of fishermen approached camp, "this shall surely tide us over for a few days to come." Incana still wanted to put her rock thrower to use, so she and Vaenosa agreed that they would mount up and test their hunting skills. Incana brought her right leg over Starlight's back and settled into the saddle that was made to fit specifically for her by her father. While the mare's feet shuffled anxiously side-to-side, Incana declared "Vaenosa and I are off to test our skills. We will return before you could even begin to miss us!" She gave a squeal of delight and leaned into Starlight giving way to a full out run.

The wind in her hair and biting at her cheeks, it was all so exhilarating. Incana caught Nay out of the corner of her eye and slapped the reins against Starlight's neck advancing the couple into the lead once more. The two women did this kind of playful exchange for a little while longer until they felt that the horses had had enough. Incana brought her horse to a trot and then slowed to a walk. The woman was completely out of breath, this had always begged the question:Why am I out of breath? It is my horse that has done all of the work whilst carrying me.

Vaenosa and Incana were riding slowly beside each-other with only the sound of their horses hooves crushing the dry grass under them. Incana kept her eyes and her ears open with a regular turn of her head to scan in all directions for possible prey. She suddenly picked up a different sound, it wasn't in tune with the horses hoof beats, it was something smaller and quicker. Incana motioned to Vaenosa that she had heard something behind them. She brought Starlight to a halt and quietly pulled out her rock thrower readying herself for whatever was following them. The sound of rustling grass was drawing ever near and closer still, until out came none other than the dog. The dog was no longer the colour that he was back in the village, he actually had a very light colour to his coat; almost the same colour as the wheat fields back home. "Well hello there, you have followed us a long way my friend. You must have found that little stream a bit to tantalizing and decided to take a swim." He needed a name, but that thought would have to be set to the back of her mind for the time being.

The dog kept two strides ahead of the horses not wanting to get behind them for fear of receiving a rear kick, one that he surely would have got earlier if he hadn't been so noisy with his approach. Just then the dog gave a sharp yip and Incana immediately saw what he had flushed out. The woman glanced over at Vaenosa with a look in her eye as to say 'ready, let's go.' It appeared to Incana that it was a smaller deer, not a baby for it had already lost it's white spots, no it was an adult just smaller than she had known them to be.

Incana held her rock thrower in her right hand and Starlight's reins in the other and gave chase. She kept her horse in a straight line as the deer dodged back and forth across her path. As soon as Incana noticed that the deer was tiring she let go of the reins altogether and steadied herself in the saddle. She reached into the satchel that was used only for rocks and put one of them into the leather hammock of the thrower. Incana twirled the crude weapon in the air above her head and just when it looked like it was a sure kill, she snapped the wooden handle back to stop the motion and watched as the rock flew threw the air and hit its mark. The deer collapsed in a swirl of dust and grass. The two women got off of their horses and took measures to ensure the animal was completely dead. They were in the process of bleeding out the deer when Starlight and Nay began to whinny like they had seen or smelt one of their own. Incana lifted her head and looked in the same direction that the two horses were looking, "this grass is too tall for me to see through." She stood up and put her hand over her brow to block the sun and what she saw was frightening and panic immediately set in.
Incana felt the blood drain from her face and turned to Vaenosa, "We--we have to go Vae-no-sa, we have to g--go now!" She didn't wait for Vaenosa she just leaped onto Starlight's back and gave a loud "Ye-Ya" and headed for the camp as fast as her horse would run.

The dog arrived first and did not stop yipping and barking until Incana came into view. She barreled around the corner of some trees, bringing the mare to a dead stop. Incana jumped off and ran towards Brand, Dorran, Leod and Athwen. Trying desperately to catch her breath so they could understand what she was about to say, she inhaled deeply and said, "There are people out there in the grass--no, no riding through the grass" she paused to collect her thoughts. "While Vaenosa and I were bleeding out the deer we killed, I saw people off in the distance from where we were. It looked like there were two riders, but they could have others with them that we didn't see. I couldn't make out what they looked like, whether they were human or not!"

[Valier]

Wulfham

Vaenosa had enjoyed the race with Incana and Starlight.She had, had no childhood friends to race with, they all thought her odd and avoided her at all cost. She had always raced with just Nay. It was almost nice to think for a moment that she might find a friend in Incana. She was almost sure she recognized her now from Wulfham. She was one of the children who never teased her, but had ignored her all the same.She was almost too nice to her sometimes and it made Vaenosa a little uncomfortable. Why would she want a friend like me? But it the back of her mind Vaenosa longed for a friend who would like her no matter what her attitude may be. She had been very impressed with the weapon Incana had used to bring down the deer. It was effective with a small deer, but what other capabilities did it have? She would perhaps ask Incana later, if she could see it to examine it.

Suddenly Incana was speaking to her, but her mind was on the deer and the weapon, she had not heard what she said. Standing, clearing her mind she asked, "Huh? I did not catch that?" But Incana had mounted her horse and was speeding towards the camp. Confused Vaenosa muttered, "What have I done now? Great ! That is all I need another emotional woman in camp! Fine I care not!" She said plunging back to skinning the deer. Then she heard it.It was an unusual sound. This must have been what Incana was warning her about. Slapping her palm against her forehead Vaenosa felt foolish for not paying attention. She parted the grass and peered over the tops. There not far off, were two figures on horse-back. Vaenosa's first thought was to reach towards Nay for the large blade she had found in the village,I shall wait here in the grass, then when they approach..Wham! but she hesitated. There could be more of them. She decided against her rash plan, but she would not let the deer be wasted. Pulling Nay's riding blanket from his back, Vaenosa covered the carcass of the deer, they would have to come back for it later.

Hopping quickly on Nay's back she rode back to camp. When she arrived everyone was present as Incana told them of the men. "It is true!" Vaenosa piped up. " I have seen them as well. I say we surround them on horse back and ummm question them." I covered your deer Incana, we can go back for it later. What say you all?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Eostre followed silently, perhaps a bit reluctantly after their now decided leader. Though she supposed to herself it didn't matter, perhaps it was better if Meghan took momentary lead. She had no desire to, after all. At least, not through the village. It was a place unfamiliar, partly destroyed, if only for the emotions that trickled through the empty houses.

It could be destroyed, she thought to herself. It could be different. And Bregoware could be just like it...

She had no desire to see where the bodies had been burnt. They were just a reminder of what had gone on. "I have no great desire to see the location," Eostre said; voice a murmur, but not the sort of respectful murmur grieving the dead—the tone of grief was there, but overwhelmed by the simple need to remain quiet if she had to be. "Lead on, then."

It would be better, the sooner they reached Sythric and could carry on...

[Tevildo]

Dorran's heart thudded dully against his chest as he listened to the report that Incana and Vaenosa brought. Could this all be happening again? And so far from the smoking mountain? Did the hand of darkness extend out even over his beloved Rohan? How many slaves would it take to fill the plantations of Mordor?

Alarmed to hear about the men who were now in the vicinity of the village, Dorran had pressed the women with questions, trying to get a better idea of what the strangers looked like and how many there actually were. Unfortunately, neither Vaenosa or Incana were able to supply any more details, and Dorran felt he had little option but to speak out and say what he knew.

The young man glanced over at Brand, wondering if he should pull his friend to the side, but then decided it would be better to share his ideas with the whole group. Clearing his throat, he began speaking in a calm voice, "I must tell you. I am afraid. I lived once in those same lands from which these Orcs come. A great lord dwells there, one whose name is never spoken but whose soldiers bear the insignia of the eye, an eye shaped just like the ones we have seen in that village. My parents told me stories....."

Dorran hesitated, uncertain how to continue. He did not want to talk about what had happened to him. He would try to explain the real danger they were in but leave out the parts that had to do with his own village and family. Choosing his words with care, Dorran continued, "My parents told me stories they had heard. They knew these stories were true. This dark lord would send out bands of roving Orcs to bring havoc and death to the villages that lay to the south and east. Not a day behind them would come raidiing parties, plundering men who would strip away any remaining wealth from the town and drag off those few who were still alive. I think these human raiders were called Easterlings. The poor wretches they found were, were ...." He shook his head, stared pointedly at the ground, and lowered his voice. "They were sent to work as slaves in the great plantations along the far fringes of Mordor. I don't know who these men are that Incana and Vaenosa saw, but I am very afraid."

"I hope I am wrong. But I felt compelled to say something. I could not just keep this to myself."

[Arry]

Wulfham

Incana and Vaenosa had both been certain that they had seen only two riders coming towards them. ‘I’m worried though that if they did not see Incana flying back the camp, did they see you, Vaenosa, as you headed this way.’ He shook his head. ‘And how far behind them are others of their foul Easterling sort?’

What Dorran had said about the men who took other men back to the Dark Lord’s land to work as slaves made his skin crawl. It was one thing to kill an enemy, but to take another man into captivity and deliver him to be a thrall was quite another. Slaves to be worked to death if needed or beaten at their master’s whim . . . the thought sickened him.

‘They will surely have seen our fire and be coming this way already.’ He glanced to where the fish were spitted and cooking near the fire. ‘Let’s draw them in and ambush them; then ride like the wind away from here. Get your packs on your horses. Leave the fish by the fire.’

‘Incana’s good with her rock thrower and Vaenosa’s an able archer.’ He held up his net and his stout oaken club. ‘What say we three take our horses and position ourselves on the perimeter of the camp . . . say you two on one side and a ways from each other; I’ll take the other side. We can take cover behind those rocky outcroppings, there and there, and there. We should be hidden well enough by the tangles of bushes.’

‘It’s most likely they’ll come in over there . . . see our fire and what will look like a hasty retreat.’ He looked toward where Leod and Dorran stood. ‘And we’ll need some of you to make it look as if we are fleeing from them. It will keep their attention on you as a target and let us take them by surprise. Can you two do that? Be riding away from camp and let them sight you?’

It was a hastily devised plan, but they hadn’t much time before the two Easterlings would be upon them. He asked if any had comments or further suggestions.

Brand frowned as he finished speaking. He looked about, realizing the other woman was not there with them. ‘Where’s Athwen? I think she should be with the decoy group.’

[Folwren]

Wulfham

Having finished her short cry, Athwen roused herself sufficiently to set about completing her task of running her hands and eyes over her horse to make certain that nothing was out of place and that he was completely well. Her next thought was to attempt to hide all signs of having cried, and she quickly made her way down to the river.

There, she had hardly finished rinsing her face when she heard hoofbeats of a galloping horse. Athwen turned, hastily drying her eyes on her sleeve, and looked towards camp. She watched as Dorran grasped Incana's bridle rein and the woman swing easily from her horse. Where Athwen stood, she could not see clearly their faces, nor hear the words spoken, but a strange aggitation seemed to push its way into the small group. A few moments later, Vaenosa cantered up in haste. She dismounted quickly.

'Strange,' Athwen muttered to herself. 'I though they'd gone to hunt, or something. But they didn't bring anything back.' She shrugged slightly. 'Had better go and see what's up. . .' She bent and used the hem of her skirt to finish drying her face. She snorted at disgust with herself as she dropped it. 'Completely unlady like. If Mum saw you. . .well, yes. Go and see what's going on.'

She quickly trotted up the slight embankment and walked towards the others. As she drew nearer, she could finally begin to hear what they were saying, though it didn't make sense to her. Brand was speaking of some sort of ambush, she thought. She wondered what good an ambush would do with hunting. She had never taken much interest in that sort of work, but she hadn't thought that it had to do with ambushing. But then he asked where she was and she hurried forward the last several yards.

'Here I am. What do you need a decoy for?'

[Farael]

Fion joined Osmod and they quickly left the village. It was a terrible sight and both men were shaken, even if they had not stayed there long. They rode in silence, barely exchanging quick comments about the best road to take. Sythric had told them they should keep moving south, trying to stay close to the river but not following it directly.

After a while, Osmod started to feel better. The fresh air and wide open spaces quickly erased the gloom and horror of the burnt town. Looking at Fion who had fallen a little behind, he was surprised to see him looking sad. He assumed it was the village what kept him worried. After all, Osmod had had the whole night to come to terms with the cruelty and horror of it all. Not enough time, not nearly so, but at least enough so that it would not hold him back from the task at hand.

”You know, Fion… I understand how you feel. It is not easy, and I also fear that others will laugh at me if I talk about my feelings. I mean, look at me… I am supposed to be the leader and sometimes I just don’t know what I’m leading you all into. How would you all feel if on top of that I started to talk about my fears?” He chuckled, although it sounded forced, fake ”I even dreamt about it last night, my friend. The orcs and the fighting… and still I did not feel brave, I was scared. We are all scared, my friend… but it will do you no good to keep your fears bottled up inside you” Osmod slowed his horse down, almost to a stop ”Are you preoccupied because of what I think you are?”

Osmod smiled at Fion, trying his best not to look condescend. The burnt town had scared him greatly and he had had nightmares about it during the night. He felt as if he would never manage to forget the feeling of despair that overcame him when he saw all that needless death. It was not like the stories he had heard his grandfather tell.

Before Fion had a chance to speak up, Osmod turned sharply to his right. There had been the slightest of sounds, something he had heard so many times before that his brain was telling him to ignore it yet…. “Hooves!! That’s a horse and running away from us quite fast. Let’s go Fion, we need to get to those orcs before they reach their camp.”

Without looking back, Osmod sent his horse on a gallop towards where the sound was coming from. He had a lot of ground to make up for, but his only hope was to reach them before they managed to alert the rest. Whoever it had been, they could not be trusted.

[Maeggaladiel]

Osmod knew what he was feeling? Did Osmod too feel as though he was looked down upon? Or was he talking about the village?

"You say you feel the same?" he asked. "About what? I am... fine." He looked away, unable to complete the lie. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I have no right to complain. I am sorry if my mood is bringing everyone down..."

But he was interrupted as Osmod heard a sound. Orcs, the elder man said. Coming to finish what they had started?

All the shame and depression and fear that had been building up within Fion turned to anger as Osmod heard the orcs. It was their fault, he realized. If not for those hellish creatures, that village would be alive! Bregoware would be safe! He would be back home with his family, where he at least felt useful.

He had never faced an orc before. This was the moment he had been dreading. But at least he wouldn't be with Raedwald and Sythric, Megan and Eostre... Bah! He didn't CARE!

Baring his teeth, he urged the horse forward. He didn't CARE what they thought! He was going to avenge this village or die trying!

"Aye!" he yelled to Osmod. "Let's catch these fiends!"

[Arry]

Wulfham


While the others scurried about, getting their gear together, Brand took Athwen aside and explained what Incana and Vaenosa had seen. At the first mention of Orcs, her eyes had gone wide. He reached out and put his hand on her arm to reassure her, though he wondered how to frame what Dorran had said about the men who sometimes followed after the raiding Orcs . . . the Easterlings.

‘Not Orcs, Athwen. They’re just men, like us.’ He was about to tell her the whole of what Dorran had told them, then thought better of it. ‘We’ll take care of them.’ He pointed to where the likely place was that they would enter the camp. ‘I’d like you and Dorran and Leod to let them keep you in sight. So that they think you’re the ones they saw. You three will head out of camp going that way. And while you’re luring them after you, Incana, Vaenosa, and I will be the ones to ambush them.’ He rubbed his left thumb unconsciously along the left side of his jaw, a nervous habit. ‘It will all work out fine. All you have to do is your part, and leave the rest to us.’

[Undómë]

Bregoware

They found Sythric at last. A little beyond the southern edge of the village. And it seemed he had had a successful hunt. There were four chickens, dead, hung from a string from his saddle. ‘Good!’ she thought to herself. ‘At least we won’t be having any dried meat stews tonight!’

‘Where’s Osmod, Sythric?’ Rædwald asked, riding up along side Meghan. Sythric could give them no information; he had not seen either of the two men.

‘Perhaps we should try to catch up to them.’ Meghan looked from one to the other of the three. ‘The went south, didn’t they? Wouldn’t our greater number be more helpful against any foes they might encounter?’ She turned her mount southward. ‘They may already be in some sort of trouble; we really don’t know, do we.’ She kicked her horse lightly in the flanks and took off at a good pace.

[Valier]

Wulfhamers meet some unaware Bregowares

After giving a few seconds to go over Brands plan in her mind, Vaenosa turned to the others."I shall emerge first from the bush, after these strangers enter our camp. This will give you time Brand to come from behind and trap one with your net. Try for the one that looks in charge. Incana you stay hidden until Brand begins to move, then if you can stay your throw, render the other unconscious.It will be easier to question one not two people. The three of you decoys wait until the last possible moment to flee, we need these men to be almost in the middle of the camp before I step out and threaten them with my bow. We do not want them to fly and warn others of our presence here." The others looked at each other in silence, then nodded their agreements to Vaenosa's plan.

Everyone quickly mounted their horses and got into position.The tension in the camp was almost visible. They all sat quietly and the waiting began.

Then came the familiar sound of hoove beats drawing nearer. Vaenosa nodded to Dorran and the others, letting them know to wait patiently. Looking across the camp Vaenosa could make out Brand preparing his net. To her right side not far off knelt Incana, she was ridgid, but she gave an incouraging smile before she readied her stone.

The men where approaching quickly now, they had caught sight of the decoys."Hey there you! Stop where you are!" One of the strangers shouted.Vaenosa watched as the decoys began to turn and look towards the men. That's it...slowly now...not to fast.....come on....
When the men had entered into the heart of the camp Dorran, Leod and the young Athwen, sped from the camp. It was now or never.

Vaenosa nodded to Incana and stepped from her hiding spot into the open. Her bow readied she said, "You there! Who are you and what is your business?" She shouted loudly and with more confidence then she felt at the moment. The men seemed startled at her appearance and turned towards her.At the moment they turned Brand was out of hiding and gave the net a heavy heave, it landed over the man that had shouted earlier, with ease. Before Brand had secured the net a blur flew through the air. With a knock the stone hit the other rider square in the forehead, just as they had planned the man fell from his mount unconsious. Without a pause Vaenosa ran for the unconsious man and nudged him with her foot. Brand had secured the net and was breathing hard as he looked down at the man he had captured.

Moving towards Nay, Vaenosa pulled from his back her large knife. Grabbing the unconsious man by his hair Vaenosa drug him towards the man in the net, who was shouting and cursing.The moment he saw Vaenosa with the young man he became quiet. She got close enough so the man could see her face. She thrust the large blade towards the netted man. "You see this here blade?" She asked with a twisted smile. Proping the unconsious man up she placed the blade to his throat. " I shall cut his throat and make you watch him bleed to death before I turn this blade on you. You will tell us your business here and to whom you swear alligence! Hurry! My hand cannot be stayed forever!"

[Farael]

"Aye! Let's catch these fiends!"

That was all encouragement Osmod needed. He set his horse to a quick trot, then a gallop and riding hard he went after the lone figure that he could see ahead in the distance. Here and there trees obscured his sight, but it took some time for Osmod to realize he would never catch the enemy like that. They too had horses and had gained too much of an advantage. He reined his horse down to a trot and indicated Fion to do the same. Going more slowly, they could follow the other rider’s tracks. Soon they lost both sight and sound of the rider they were going after, but kept their horses moving as fast as they could manage, hoping to scout the enemy encampment and then go back to warn the others.

The trees and shrubs started to thin out. Ahead stood what seemed to be a wide clearing. At first a clump of trees obstructed his sight, but then he saw some riders fleeing what seemed to be a makeshift camp. "Hey there you! Stop where you are!” bellowed Osmod, as he hurried his horse back into a full gallop. He knew Fion was close behind him and this time he would not let the enemy go away. It seemed to be a small scouting party, maybe three of them. They were not orcs, that was clear, but maybe the enemy in his fiendish cunning had hired men to do his dirty work. ”Traitors,” he muttered ”I shall make sure they pay for their betrayal. Hurry Fion, For Rohan!!!” Yet his cry was cut short. Something heavy landed upon him and threw Osmod off his mount. As he struggled with the net, he saw Fion falling of his horse as well, while the enemy swarmed around the place. They had fallen straight into an ambush. He had lead Fion straight into it. He kicked and tossed under the net, trying to free himself enough to draw his sword and cuts his way out, but his efforts were short lived. A monster of a woman, her face contorted by anger and exertion was holding Fion and threatening his friend’s life.

”You will tell us your business here and to whom you swear allegiance! Hurry! My hand cannot be stayed forever!" She screamed. Then Osmod laughed. It was not a merry sound. It seemed to tear through his throat and out of his mouth. It was the laugh of those who know they are going to die and have given up hope.

”Why should I tell you, fiend of the nameless one?” Osmod spat at her feet, forgetting what her mother would say at such ungallantly behaviour. ”You will kill us anyway, as the monsters you work for did to the villagers. But I fear not, I know my death shall be avenged. Theoden King will never let his people die, his Riders will find you and you shall be defeated.” He let out another sour laugh. ”You will not be able to ambush the Riders of Rohan! It surprises me not to see such coward behaviour from the enemy. An ambush! Be a man, I say” He screamed, turning as much as the net allowed him to face the man who was holding him down ”Be a man and let me loose, I shall take a few of you down with me, for my King and for Bregoware!”

[Folwren]

When she heard shouts from behind her, Athwen pulled her horse to a stop and wheeled about. She did not go back, however, until Dorran rushed past her. She looked over her shoulder at Leod who was about to follow and she urged her horse forward.

They came to the camp in a moment and Dorran dismounted and took the strangers’ horses in hand. The animals were spooked and skiddish. Athwen stopped her gelding and dismounted quickly, too, though her eyes and attention were fixed firmly on the two prisoners. Out of habit, but done absently, she reached for her horse’s rein and held him.

The situation was uglier than she had expected. One man, half sat up, struggled vainly in Brand’s net, and the other, looking no older than twenty, lay completely unconscious, his head held up by a handful of hair in Vaenosa’s hand, and in her other, Athwen recoiled to see a knife.

‘You will tell us your business here and to whom you swear allegiance! Hurry! My hand can not be stayed forever!’ Vaenosa was serious in her threat and Athwen shuddered and shrank back against her horse’s neck.

There was a harsh laugh from the netted man and he gave another struggle, but Brand was at his side, now, and held him back from reaching either sword or knife, if he had one. ‘Why should I tell you, fiend of the nameless one? You will kill us anyway, as the monsters you work for did to the villagers. But I fear not, I know my death shall be avenged. Theoden King will never let his people die, his Riders will find you shall be defeated.’ He laughed again and Athwen stepped forward. He had mentioned her village, she knew that’s what he talked about. And he called on the king’s name. He couldn’t be - ‘You will not be able to ambush the Riders of Rohan!’ he went on furiously. ‘It surprises me not to see such coward behavior from the enemy. An ambush! Be a man, I say! Be a man and let me loose, I shall take a few of you down with me, for my King and for Bregoware!’

‘No!’ Athwen cried out, unable to contain herself any longer. Vaenosa had made a threatening move with that blade and Athwen wasn’t prepared for more bloodshed. ‘Don’t! For heaven’s sake, keep your hand away. Did you hear him? He’s not against us after all! Brand, tell her so!’ She looked desperately at him and took several more, hasty steps forward, leaving her horse to stand alone.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

As sythric saw the approaching companions, he smiled widely, pointing out the four chicken with his left hand, and came to meet them halfway. Raedwald was asking about Osmod and Fion, and Meghan seemed to be worried. She seemed to be so worried indeed, that she spurred herself to a good pace. All the others followed, Sythric remaining by the side of Raedwald and Eostre coming just behind them. Is that girl just worried about her companions, or is there something more in it?, he thought to himself, smiling lightly, feeling quite happy about this possible love-affair he was about to see taking root here. There's always hope and love, even in the ugliest of times! But soon, after gotten to some other thoughts, Sythric pulled himself a bit aside from the group – keeping the pace – and addressed the others.

“I think Osmod and Fion have gone forwards scouting ahead. Didn’t they mention anything like that to you? It’s kind of a risk for a scout to get into a trouble, but that’s, in a sense, the meaning of sending scouts to begin with. And I don’t kind of like this idea of two scouts, and will thence back Meghan's idea of hurrying a bit. We should have a scout, I agree, but one will suffice. We just can’t afford losing two people at the same time, if there is some trouble. One should lead the way and check it for us others to be safe, but two is too much. At least that’s the way the riders have it, and I can see that making sense. Or what do you think Raedwald?” After Raedwald nodded to this common rider-practise, Sythric spurred Thydrë to a swifter gallop, still letting Meghan to be the first on the now line they hade made.

As they rode forwards, Sythric slowed a bit, getting beside Raedwald, and said to him: “The real fight has taken place at most two days ago, possibly yesterday morning, or more probably the night before it. The ash was still a bit warm. But the villagers have been burnt just recently: yesterday evening quite probably. Now who do you think these good people might be? Would they be around, and should we look for them? There haven’t been too many of them as the fire has been quite modest. I know we have a mission, and that’s our main task, but I would hate to leave any survivors without some food, medicare and even a direction to head on – we know, people from Arnanaes are a bit north-west from us. They should know it, now shouldn’t they?”

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Eostre sighed, staying at a steady pace behind the others until Sythric fell in behind her. Meghan seemed in an abnormal hurry; simply fear for their other companions, she wondered to herself? She glanced back at the village for a moment, the burning ashes of bodies far behind them, yet the smell still seemed to taint the air.

And who's young Meghan falling in love with? she wondered softly. Fion or Osmod? She seems to have quite an attachment to the latter...

But Eostre quickly corrected her thoughts before they ran off on a possessive tangent. She had no reason to be falling in love, not in the midst of a frantic mission, not with the possibility of orcs hiding around the nearest corner... though of course orcs hadn't burnt the villagers. That was folly in its purest form. No orc would have that much heart; at the most they might borrow a few of the bodies for their next meal and burn the bones.

And, at any rate, Sythric's too old for you, Fion's scared of you, and Osmod seems to appreciate Meghan far too much for her own well-being.

She sighed, listening in to the conversation between the two older men almost mindlessly. Not as if it mattered. It was simply another conversation, another curiosity, another... just another. Glancing ahead, Meghan led the procession. The girl's growing up.

[Undómë]

Rædwald


‘I don’t think we should take time to look for them, Sythric.’ Rædwald’s gaze darted from Meghan’s position at the front of the line to the country side right and left of their group. ‘I know it sounds callous, but I think we should remember our first duty is to our Lord and our village. There will be a number of other villages, I should think, which will have heard the news of the increasing Orc raids and be heading toward the safety of the King and his Riders. Perhaps it was scouts of theirs who tended to this unfortunate place’s dead.’

‘One thing that does worry me, were the tales of the Eastern men coming along with or following after the Orcs.’ He turned in his saddle to look directly at Sythric. ‘It’s one thing to have the Orcs doing their foul deeds – they’re hardly more than savage beasts themselves. But those Eastern men – By Helm’s Hammer! They are counted as Men, and that makes their deeds seem all the more abominable.’

‘I remember stories of them raiding a village and taking the people off to be slaves, in the service of that black-hearted Lord of Mordor. And not just slaves. There were some terrible stories of how they’d use men for the making of more Orcs. As if they were just beasts for breeding.’ A shiver of disgust wound its way up his spine, and he twitched his shoulders in an effort to throw it off.

‘Whoa-up, Meghan! Come back here, lass.’ Rædwald’s voice boomed out as his eyes trailed over the ground in front of him, and then caught something on the ground to his right.

He motioned for Sythric to take a look, too. ‘Those two paused here for a brief moment; then went on. Fion’s horse has a small nick in the right front hoof. See there. I noticed that as we rode south, down the river.’ He pointed to where the two riders had been almost parallel in position. ‘Then, for some reason, Osmod’s horse took a sharp right turn and hurried off. See how his horse’s strides lengthen? Fion followed after him. They were in a great hurry.’

‘We need to be careful, now, I think. We don’t know what they were chasing or what they saw. And they haven’t come back to tell us. It worries me that perhaps the reason for that is because they can't. They could be hurt.’

He pulled up closer to Meghan, and motioned for Eostre to draw nearer also. ‘Let’s follow their tracks. And it might be best if we kept near each other. Just in case . . .’

[Arry]

The immediacy of the skirmish was fading; the press of emotions settling down into a space where he could think more clearly. Brand twitched his shoulders, throwing off some of the tightness and the welling hatred for the Orcs and Easterlings that had fueled his thoughts and actions for the past moments of the assault. Hatred . . . and fear, too. He could not deny that. Even as he’d thrown his net, he’d wondered would he die. And this time he’d mastered the thought and met what might have proved a fatal task with some degree of success.

But now, hearing the man’s words as he struggled in the net, Brand wondered if perhaps he should have used his head more and his gut-feelings less.

‘. . . fiend of the nameless one,’ the fellow had shouted out. ‘. . . enemy . . . Riders of Rohan . . . King Theoden . . . Bregoware . . .’

‘Did you hear him?’ Athwen had asked. And now Dorran came up whispering hurriedly that he didn’t think these two looked like the Eastern men he’d heard of.

Brand’s shoulder’s slumped, a sickening feeling washing over him. The little haze of battle had cleared completely from his eyes. And now he took in the two figures. They looked like . . . him . . .

‘’Vaenosa, stay your hand, please. I ask you. Lest we be like the Orcs and other fiendish creatures of the Shadow and kill our own.’

He turned to the netted man and laid down his cudgel. Crouching down beside him he looked him in the eye, words of apology and explanation spilling from his lips. ‘We are men . . . and of the Mark,’ he began. ‘We are sorry our actions have brought you harm. Like you we thought you were the enemy finishing up that gruesome task the Orcs had begun. Worse actually, we thought you were Eastern men come to take us into slavery for your Dark Lord.’ He began to loosen the cords that held the net tight, hoping the man was not so overtaken by his own anger that he would rise up and kill him.

‘My name is Brand,’ he said as his fingers loosed the fetters. ‘My companions and I are from Wulfham, two days north of the great ford. We are bound to the King’s Hall to ask aid for our village.’

He loosed the last knot, letting the net fall free. Brand stood up quickly and took a step back from the man. Then, thinking better of his actions, he stepped forward once again and extended the man a hand up . . .

[Nogrod]

“I agree with being careful, and I agree with keeping nearer to each other. But I would insist us to keep a fair pace anyhow. At least now, there seems to be plenty of open land in the direction those two have hurried to. Maybe we slow down a bit before those woods over there – if they are maintaining their direction, and we eventually end up there.” Sythric answered, looking at all the three others, trying to hide his suspicions and fears that had immediately started to pile up in his head.

“I propose Raedwald goes in front, for he’s a real wizard when it comes to tracking. Either of you, Meghan or Eostre, if you have any of those skills, ride beside him. I’ll leap first somewhat to the left flank of you three, just to be able to see, if there is anything nearer the river to be worth noticing. I’ll be back at your side in no time.” Sythric glanced at Radwald, who nodded in agreement.

Sythric took to full speed, riding towards the river, heading a bit backwards. Then, approaching the shoreline, he started slowing down a bit, turning little by little southwards. As he rode forwards, he studied the undergrowth and the surroundings with watchful eyes for any mark of an ambush being prepared from there. So it seems they were not running away from something then. Well, that’s the good news. And what might be the bad news then...If not away from, then after something? Soon he ended up riding at somewhat parallel line with the others – a little behind, some hundred yards from them, quite near the sparse trees and bushes by the side of the river. There seemed to be nothing of interest there. If not away from, then after something?So what could it be?What on Middle-Earth could they be running after then?He had been so sure to find tracks beside the river, some mop-up group trying to ambush the last survivors or scouts. But no, that clearly wasn’t the case. But they wouldn’t have rushed themselves over a whole orc-party either, they wouldn’t be such fools, even angered or depressed. Had they seen orcs, or easterlings, they would have turned back. Surely they would. Osmod would have turned. Fion would.

He started to increase his pace and to angle towards the others, encouraging Thydrë to make all the fun out of it. When she was not tired, she really loved to make some speed. And now she really made some.

[Naria]

Riders of Rohan reverberated through her head back and forth like an echo....

The group and herself were so caught up in catching one of those wicked fiends that Dorran had described that capturing a fellow man did not even enter their minds. After her heart had ceased its thud against her chest and her breathing slowed, Incana realized only then what they had done. She felt just in their final decision, afterall they couldn't have known what or whom these people were. It still was no comfort to her.

Incana noticed Brand offering a hand to the conscious man, in turn letting the others know that they could now let their guards down. The woman could not but help feel horrible and guilt ridden for the attack. Her gaze immediately left the one man now standing and went to the still unconscious man on the ground. Incana knelt down and brushed some dirt and leaves off of his face and saw what she had done to him. The rock that she threw had hit him squarely in the forehead and left a substantial lump and bruising.

Incana stood up and walked over to her horse and took the strap of her water skin off of the saddle horn and went back to him. She knelt down once again and tilting his head she let the water drizzle down the man's throat. She looked up at Vaenosa, "This man is going to need some of that medicinal herb you found earlier. We will make some into tea, for her will surely need it when he awakens."
Incana then looked the other way and addressed the man beside Brand, "Am I safe to assume that your Lord would not send just the two of you?"

[Valier]

Vaenosa had stayed her hand and dropped the unconcious man to the ground. They were from Rohan as well? How could they be sure? She decided to drop the subject and leave it to the others, she was afraid her temper would get the best of her and thought she would keep her mouth shut for now.

She was now unsure as to how she felt about having two more men in their camp. She had threatened them both and the one man had laughed..laughed!. She was certain he would hold a grudge against her, how could he not? Vaenosa moved towards Incana who suggested that she get some willowbark for tea. Vaenosa nodded and headed towards her horse who was chewing at the bark on a nearby tree. Vaenosa's head was whirling after all the excitment. She had been afraid, but the thought of being a slave to some evil over came any fears she may have had. She had just acted and she was still unsure...Should they trust these men so blindly?

Giving Nay a push gently from the side, she pulled out the willowbark she had saved from earlier in their trip, from his saddle bag. She decided she would leave the blade with Nay as well, but she made sure her trusty daggers were at her sides. She left nay to his bark, as she brought her bark to the fire and started the water boiling.

At this moment she decided to put on a bit of a sour look hoping noone would speak to her. She planned on being quiet and watchful. She would not be caught at unawares.

[Undómë]

Raedwald


Rædwald’s eyes narrowed as the group approached a wide grassy area. It was the end of autumn, but still the tall clumps of brown stalks and ragged yellowed leaves stood, like little sentinels waving their torn banners in the breeze. He raised a hand to halt the other riders and motioned them forward.

‘There,’ he said, pointing toward a space in the field before them where something large lay lumped beneath a blanket.

‘They passed here, Fion and Osmod. Osmod’s horse a little in the lead. And the tracks lead near the thing that lies covered in the grasses.’ He loosed his lance from the saddle holder and held it firmly in his right hand. The heft of it against his palm brought a flood of old sensations. And while they were familiar, not all of them were pleasantly recalled.

‘Loose your weapons and have them at the ready,’ he instructed the two women.

Sythric had by this time caught up to them. He drew up alongside Rædwald and perused the little scene before them. It was decided they would ride slowly across the field to where the blanket covered thing lay.

[Folwren]

Farael's post

Osmod


Osmod hesitantly took Brand’s hand and stood up. The man seemed to be speaking the truth. ”Master Brand, I hope you forgive me if I’m not too pleased, even now that our misunderstanding has been cleared” He regarded the man with cold eyes. Then, he looked at Fion who was now being helped one of the women. At least they all seemed to be truly concerned. ”Is there a healer among you? My friend may need a little help after your warm welcome.” He shook his head, ”But I forget my modals, I’m Osmod from Bregoware. When we left, our village still stood a day’s ride from the river. After seeing what happened in the village to the north us, I fear the worse for my people” Then a light of understanding shone in his eyes ”You know what I’m talking about. You were there before us.” Osmod could see it in Brand’s eyes. He could not find any words to say, but he knew none would be necessary.

One of the women was helping Fion. She asked, almost casually, something about how many of them had left towards Edoras. Osmod was about to answer, when he realized it could be a cunning attempt at trying to milk information off him. Rather than answering, he walked over to Fion, who was still unresponsive, and asked the woman for help to move him closer to the fire. The violent woman, the one that had threatened his friend’s life seemed to be preparing some sort of tea. Judging by the look on her face, she was not about to apologise. ”Well,” Osmod thought ”I will not the first to talk. She almost killed Fion, I am not going to make friends just because her other companions seem to be sorry. I don’t even know if they are truly sorry or just better deceivers than her”

Still, he silenced his doubts for the moment. He could not take on the six of them anyway, and the rest of the Bregowares would probably follow his tracks. Sythric and Raedwald would know what to do.

[Farael]

Folwren's post

Athwen


The excitement seemed to be over. Tea was being made and the men who had been given a rather cold welcome were now being made more comfortable and a few questions were beginning to be asked. Athwen found herself trembling. She couldn't exactly say why, it was a strange, uncommon feeling for her. She felt sick at her stomach and her heart beat hard against her ribs.

Silently she turned away from the others and stepped to her horse. Without speaking to anyone, she gathered up the reins, mounted him in a single swift, agile movement, and turned his head about. A light kick with her heels sent him into a long, slow lope and she cantered away from them.

For the second time that day, she found herself blinking back hot, stinging tears. The wind in her face almost dried them as they escaped from her blinking lids, but it didn't clear her eyesight and she went blindly on, her horse finding his own path through the grass.

After some time, she pulled him to a stop. He slowed quickly and came to a stand still. She bent forward until her forehead rested on his black mane and she slowly caught her breath and composure again. 'You're a sight, Athwen,' she told herself aloud in a quiet murmur. The horse's ears swiveled about and he turned his head towards her slightly. 'It doesn't make much sense, does it?' the girl went on, shaking her head slowly. 'Why were you so frightened, so over come just then? Nothing terrible happened, no one was really hurt.' She struggled with a choking sob, but she pushed it back down, blinked back new tears and sat up. Gently, she turned her horse back around and started towards camp at a slow walk. She didn't understand, and somehow she thought she never would, after what happened yesterday. Life woudln't ever be the same, and neither would her emotions and reactions to things that happened. But she would like to understand. . .at least some.

'And yet maybe not yet,' she told the wind. 'Maybe. . .maybe I will, someday.'