Seekers of Truth RPG

[piosenniel]

Crystal Heart’s post

A young woman walked into the Inn; her hood concealed her face. It was the only form of protection because her weapon had been taken from her. She looked around the Inn in interest. It was much different then the other Inns she had been in, but it seemed quaint enough for her liking. She walked swiftly through the maze of chairs and tables to the front desk. She touched her pouch. There was enough coins for a nice meal, a couple of drinks, and a room for the night.

She sat down on a stool. She pulled the hood from her head slowly and shook her hair out from under it. Auburn hair pulled away and lay in soft curls as it always did. Her unusual mixture of brown and green eyes looked around the room. She didn't open her mouth to say a word. This place was so different then she had first realized.

She wasn't afraid or shy of this place. She just liked to be quiet for a while and take it all in. She learned more by just listening to the people around her. She also learned more about the place she was in by how the people acted, talked, and what they ate and drank. Someone had once told her that it was a type of gift of hers, but she had never believed it. It was only just a skill she had acquired over her years of travel.

She had left her home so many years ago that she couldn't remember where that home had been. She had lost several years of her memory. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but it had and she hadn't regained it back. She had a feeling that she didn't want to remember those memories ever again anyway so she wasn't worried about the fact.

She did remember her name, or at least what she thought her name was. She had been under so many aliases that she had started to forget what her own name was, but she remembered it right now. Her name was something wonderful, at least in her opinion. Crystal Lerena Sandrine Heart. A name that she had thought was regal and noble, even though she didn't come from noble or regal blood.

She decided to order a drink at first. She wasn't sure what they sold here.

"Excuse me, but what is a good drink to have around here?" Crystal asked the bartender. The bartender nodded and handed her an ale. Crystal looked up and thanked the Innkeeper. She took a small sip and gave a smile. It was rather good.

Her memory wandered, but there was still places where she still couldn't remember a thing. In her travelings around middle earth she had been in rather rough fight with a drunken man that had mistaken her as his wife. His fists had been wild and hard against the skull of her head. There was only portions of that she actually remembered. She did remember waking up in a place with a woman over her telling her what had happened to her. She couldn't remember many other things after that. Her memory was slowly coming back, but it was so painfully slow that she had stopped trying to actually remember. She wasn't even entirely sure that Crystal was her real name.

She thought back hard against the bearer, but nothing would budge in her mind. There was just a black portion that just sat there, unweilding against her mental pushes. She itched her neck and felt something she hadn't noticed before. She pulled the rough thing away from her and saw a necklace. It was long with a pendant on the end. She read it: SANDRINA SANDRINE Lightheart. Ah, that was her name. It had to be. She couldn't have found it any where else. She smiled. SANDRINA looked up and watched in interest as people sang. She had could not remember anything about songs. There was a barrier against the memories of her childhood. Like most of her memories they seemed to be locked behind doors that she did not carry keys for. She couldn't even remember exactly why she had come in the Inn. There had been a purpose she supposed. She knew she wanted a drink, but there had been something else. She couldn't remember.

The only thing she could remember was that terrible fall. She had been riding with people that she knew were familiar and that she had known at one time, but she couldn't put her finger on who they were. They had been in Gondor then or so she thought. She had toppled off and had hit her head against something hard. When she had awoken she remembered being in the dark with no money, no weapon, and no means of transport home. She remembered that she couldn't remember who she was or where she was from. She hadn't remembered where home was. She still wasn't sure.

She figured that had been at least a year ago. She couldn't recall time anymore. Everything seemed to blurr. Every once in a while she would remember a tidbit of something, but it only made her confused because she didn't know what it meant to her. All of her memories that she had still maintained were pieced together in a makeshift puzzle that really didn't fit together. There was such blackness all through her memory that she had no idea what things were real and what she had made up on her own.

She smiled softly to herself as she recalled what one of the people she had met in similar type Inn had decided to call her. Crystal, like her voice was his reasoning. She had carried it around without a last name, telling everyone that she was Crystal. She remembered someone saying that she had a kind heart and had decided to make that her last name. Other then that she had had no memory of her real name.

Until today. She had been sitting here thinking when she had found the necklace around her neck and remember that her name was Eowyn Lightheart. She had recalled that the heart part of her name had sounded familiar. She couldn't remember when she had had a normal bath last. She usually got very wet in her travels and her and her clothes had ended up clean. Now that she thought about it, she wondered if her accident had really been a year ago after all. Maybe it had only been about three weeks in actuality. Or had it been longer? A month maybe? She had no idea.

She frowned in frustration. There just didn't seem to be any hope for her to remember anything about herself and what she use to be. This was her now, whatever it was she had become. At least she had a real name to fall back on. Maybe if people called her that then she would start remembering more.

As their songs drifted to her ears she wished that they would unlock something in her, something that would make sense to her. She had was sick and tired of guessing about her past and making up theories about what she supposed she knew.

She sipped her ale and wondered if she would be a loner without a home, without a memory, without a purpose for the rest of her miserable life. She hadn't been happy wandering around like an invalid, wondering what and who she truly was. There wasn't a thing that she could do on her own to unlock her vital memories. She put her head in her hand and sighed deeply.

She sat upon that stool when something hit her. A whirlwind of memories that just came to her. There had been something in the air, a smell that she remembered. Memories of her childhood came back. Her mother's name, Eowyn, her father's smile. Her father, Henry. He had had no sons, just her. She was their heir.

And then she realized why the people had left her for dead after she had fallen. She remembered who they where. They were her father's brother's children, her cousins. They had been angry at the fact that everything of the Lightheart's would go to her when her father died. That she would be the heir of their grand family. She would be the one that made decisions and would own the property that they had been blessed with.

She suddenly remembered her home, every small detail of every room. She had lived right here in Rohan.

She looked around the Inn, looking for familiar faces even if she could not recall the names that went along with them. She hoped she could find someone that knew her.

[piosenniel]

Arien's post

“Thank you,” and with that he dropped three coins on the table. The bar keeper scooped them up and turned to the next customer. He lifted the mug and made his way to the table nearest the wall, it was empty; he couldn’t take talking to someone. He needed to collect his thoughts and see where he was in all this.

“Right,” Braedon muttered to himself, setting down his drink and sitting. He leant back for a minute, nursing his hand. He traced a finger over the bandage; he could see blood trying to seep through from the fresh cut. He would have to change the bandage soon. After this he would return to his room, and then set out to see his father.

He was not in Rohan for long this time, only a couple of day and he wanted to see how his father was coping. He knew he had gotten stubborn in his old age, and kept telling Braedon that there were better things to be done with a Rangers time, but Braedon knew he appreciated it. He also needed to visit a friend, rare he knew, but he hadn’t seen her for over 8 months.

Last time they were both here was when he was investigating the disappearance of a landowner’s daughter. It was said that she had been killed, but no trace of her was found. The search had been abandoned 5 months ago when her parents too disappeared, leaving their land and heading deeper into Rohan.

He drew his attention away from his and fumbled with his necklace, vaguely remembering his mother for a second. He shook his head, and reached out for the mug. A soft breeze dance over him as the door to the inn opened, he sipped from his mug and set it down once again. He looked up to the new entrant, but they were cloaked and he could not see their face.

He continued to watch as he saw that the new arrival was a woman, or was she a girl? He could not tell from here, her back was facing towards him. But she did have auburn hair, curly. A distinct memory sparked in his mind. But Braedon did not pick up on it.

"Excuse me, but what is a good drink to have around here?" she asked. Her soft voice was kind, the bar keeper answered and handed her a drink.

Braedon returned to his drink. When he had finished he headed back to his room. Gingerly he peeled the bandage away from his cut. Stupidity was the cause of his injury, he had gambled with a cheat and in a fight he was left with the wound, but his money too. This just proved why he was such a loner; most weren’t to be trusted. He bathed the cut in a basin filled with a mixture he had put together the previous day. It stung, but not too much.

He bandaged it quickly and headed back to the main bar and took his seat. He looked round for the girl, she had something about her... there she was! She was sitting at the same stool. But she seemed confused; she turned her head towards him. That girl. She looked remarkably like the one who had gone missing. Braedon sat up straight. But it couldn’t be could it? Surely not after this long! Braedon walked for the exit. He was probably mistaken, but he couldn’t help it, as much as he disliked talking to stranger, he was curious.

“Excuse me...” the girl turned startled. “May I ask your name, forgive me but you look like a girl I was searching for a time ago. I would dismiss it, but the resemblance in the description and your self is uncanny.”

The girl paused for a moment, still startled. "Crystal."

Braedon dissmissed it, and nodded to the girl. He walked to the exit and took another look at her. He stood for a moment and shook his head, a mistake it couldn't be her, she was dead was she not?

[piosenniel]

starkat’s post

Anora had been in Rohan visiting clients for her family’s trading business. She was due to begin her return journey home tomorrow. Deciding to make a stop overnight to rest her horse was an easy decision to make. She had just come downstairs and had taken a seat when a cloaked figure entered the inn.

Anora watched as the cloaked figure took a seat on a stool and pulled back her hood. The sight of the young woman’s auburn hair brought back some of Anora’s childhood memories. Anora could remember playing with a young girl with similar colour hair. I wonder what happened to Sandrina. Her body was never found.

Shaking off her reverie, Anora ordered food and took a seat. The young woman thought about her trip to Rohan. After taking care of business, she had spent time visiting family friends. She had sent word to her father that she was preparing to return home, when her horse had become lame. Worried that it might get worse if she continued, Anora had made the decision to stop.

She had been relieved to learn that her horse just needed rest. Anora’s attention was brought back to the present as she watched the auburn-haired woman at the counter. She saw a frown cross the young woman’s face. I hope she is alright. I cannot help shake the feeling that I have seen her before.

When Anora saw the young woman put her head on her hand and then sit upright, it struck a cord in her memory. That’s it! She looks like an older version of Sandrina! I wonder who she is. Anora watched as the young woman turned to look around the room.

[piosenniel]

Pippin Pondlily's post

Haven Storms had one foot on the ground and the other perched on the rod connecting the front two legs of the stool. She half sat on the chair and half leaned on the bar counter, tracing the lip of her mug with her index finger. Her grey eyes were fixed sullenly on the shelves of mugs and tumblers behind the counter as she lamented all the minor troubles of her life that were brought into sharp relief and exaggerated by the excessive amounts of alcohol she had consumed.

The inn was an old one inhabited mostly by people who came out of tendency because here had been the eye of revelry in days past. The walls were dark and mildew filled the cracks and seeped through the grain of the rank wood. The ceiling was so full of smoke that Haven, frankly, could not be sure that one was even there. But what put the wry smile on her face and lured her to sit at the bar and buy a drink here was the fact that the people made like this was a modern, lively inn. They sang, laughed and told stories: some true, some ridiculously false. To put a damper on the patrons' happy spirits would be condemnable, which was precisely why she did.

"How long have you been here?" asked a familiarly dramatic voice. Haven cringed and moved so she sat the whole way on the chair. She cupped the mug in her hands.

"Please, leave me alone, Bryian," she said, her voice cold as stone not out of contempt for him but of what he had come to say. He took the empty seat next to her but did not order a drink.

"Why didn't you come back to the stables?" he asked, sounding sincerely anxious.

Haven sighed, began to answer and stopped. She took a drink. She set the mug on the counter and turned to face him, searching for an appropriate answer. "It wasn't my damn fault that horse died," she said bluntly, "the idiot stable boy should have arranged to get his shoe replaced months ago. It just so happened that I was riding it over that ditch when the nail came loose, the shoe came off, the bloody horse tripped and fell into the gully and broke its neck. What was I supposed to have done about it?!" She was shouting but no one seemed to notice it blending in with the songs and talk.

He inhaled deeply. "Haven, you push far too hard and you're merciless." He held up a hand to prevent her intervention. "I understand your ideas, I know your beliefs, the … code," he accentuated the word 'code', "you live by. It follows a steady line of logic and has its advantages but there's a line, Haven, there's a limit to what we as humans and they as horses can do. If you overstep that line, someone is going to get hurt, like today. Is that something you're just willing to risk?"

She didn't answer. Her face was taught and she clenched her teeth, a passion of fury rising up like a wave inside her, threatening to swell and crash, to swarm over him with an anger he shouldn't have to see.

Bryian put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Haven, Rillis Wheed needs you, please, take care of yourself." He paused when she remained silent. "There is only one thing more tragic than the loss of a horse and that is the loss of a man, or, woman, in your case. What would they do without you?"

"To hell with Rillis Wheed and his bloody horses."

"You don't mean that, Haven."

"I do."

"Come on," Bryian said, standing. "I'll take you back to your house." Haven sat rigid.

"No thanks," she said. Her tranquility was noticeably forced. "I'm going to stay here a little longer." He looked at her openly concerned. "I'll be alright," she assured him. He smiled and leant forward, kissing her on the forehead. She stiffened.

After he left, Haven ordered her fifth mug of Dorwinion wine and moved to a table near the fire. She knew it wasn't her fault. She felt no guilt about the horse's death. That belonged entirely to the stable boy in charge of that row of stalls. She had been taking it around the course in sharp turns and sudden jumps forcing the horse to respond to the lightest touch and obey the smallest command. They were jumping the gully when the shoe came off. She was thrown to the side and her body was jolted against the hard dirt and stone. Haven had had just enough time to roll out of the way as the horse kicked its legs frantically, whinnied in excruciating pain and foamed thick at the mouth. She remembered she had come to her knees and watched in horror and disbelief.

Haven hung her head over the mug. She had been so close. That horse was brilliant, born with the gifts of the Mearas though it was not of their blood. He would have made the king proud and Haven was ready to present him in just under two weeks. It would have been the very turning point of her career. She had tasted the glory of having trained one of the king's horses only for it to be snatched away from her in a manner harsher than she thought she deserved. It certainly wasn't what that horse deserved. She didn't want to know what would happen to the stable boy. In her opinion, there was nothing severe enough for him.

Now what was she going to do? How could she continue to train horses and be hopeful when this had happened? It was too much to think about. She wanted to get away from it all if just for a little while…

As she was thinking, Haven hadn't exactly realized what she had been staring at but now she focused and saw that she was studying another patron in the inn. It was a young woman, a rather beautiful woman with thick, curly auburn hair sitting in a green cloak at the bar. Her expression changed as often as a river. First she was comfortable, secure and in control. Then she began to look confused and her expression grew distant, as though she was lost. Out of nowhere she'd smile or frown. Then suddenly she jolted as if hit by a sudden wind or a shudder of the earth. Her face began to shuffle emotions until suddenly they stopped and her eyes were wide and alert and her whole body was tense and aware. She began to look around the inn, apparently searching for someone.

Haven was completely mystified. What sort of loony was this?

[piosenniel]

Hama of the Riddermark's post

Hama sat alone at his table sipping his ale. He was in a pensive mood, and sat there almost motionless, sometimes the mug rested at his lips for more then a few minutes before he set it ack down, having only taken the smalled gulp from it. He saw the woman walk in, but she was well past him when she took off her hood. The hair looked familiar to Hama, but he shook his head. Sandrina was dead. And Dorian's daughter had run away. No, just a passing resemblance, and anyway, what was hair to go on? He had waited in Gondor for months, before receiving word that Sandrina had been killed. The blow had struck him deeply, because he was a good friend with all the Lighthearts. he had taken to moping around the taverns in Edoras of late, except when any opportunity to attack Dunlendings arose. He sighed and returned the tankard to his mouth, this time taking a larger gulp, some spilled onto his beard, and as he moved to wipe it off the woman turned around and caught his eyesight for the briefest of seconds before she turned around again. Hama was astounded. If it wasn't Sandrina, then someone had been blessed with a daughter that looked so much like her....

Again, Hama pushed the thoughts from his head. Sandrina was dead, and there was nothing going to change that. He gulped the last of his ale and called for another one. reclining in his chair as the barkeep bustled over to refill his tankard. He didn't let his eyes wander from Sandrina, something told him that she would vanish if he did. His ale came, and this time he drained it in a single movement, letting the amber liquid flow down his throat. He got up and replaced his shield, spear and bow on his back, attaching the quivver to the leather strap on his shield. Slowly he walked over to the woman at the bar and she looked around again. This time Hama caught a good look at her face. She clearly didn't recognise him as he leaned on the bar next to her. He took a good long look at her face, but when she turned around he tried to make it look like he was armiring the pendant around her neck...the pendant! Hama now did focus his attention on the pendant. It was...it was Sandrina's pendant!

Hama's heart skipped a beat quietly as he tried to form the sentence he wanted to say. Words raced through his mind at an amazing pace, and he discared them at an equally speedy rate. Sandrina turned away to look around the room again. Hama chose this moment to lean forward and whisper in her ear, "Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

[piosenniel]

Himaran's post



It was dark. Rain poured down around him, water splashed against his chest. He scanned the flooded area once more, looking for a trace, the slightest sign that she had been there. And then he saw her, twenty yards away, struggling against the current. He dove in, trying to reach her... but then the wave came, and the woman was gone.

Raen awoke with a start. He lay still for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. There was no flooded forest, no woman, just a comfortable room inside a Rohanian tavern. The recurring nightmare had haunted him for several days, ever since he the stopped searching the wilderness a week before. The general search effort had ended months ago, but the ranger was hardly satisfied by the results. It was as though he was being punished for giving up, and Raen would have speculated further upon that theory; if common sense but had a smaller presence within his mind. Sitting up, he pushed with thick sheets aside and dressed slowly. After sleeping in the forest for so long, even the smallest figment of civilized life was a luxory. The man yawned, trying to feel comfortable; for in truth he was a stranger to these civilized surroundings. Snatching up a long, slender knife from the table (out of pure habit), Raen locked the room and headed downstairs.

Taking a seat at the bar, the ranger ordered a light breakfast and a hot drink. Even after several days at the establishment, it all seemed surreal. Nothing came naturely; Raen stared at the utensils before him for several moments before attacking the sliced ham with a vengence. He felt silly to have forgotten such simple behaviors, but knew it would all come back eventually. After all, it had been a while. The man watched as commoners and soldiers came and went, chatting and dining and arguing. Their lives were so simple; waking, working, and eventually passing from the world. Can I become a part of this calm, routine life? It was a question Raen had been asking himself ever since returning from his unsuccessful hunt.

Then a single man caught his attention. It was a ranger, (Raen was certain of that), but he seemed vaguely familier. There had been several of Raen's bloodline on the hunt for Sandrina; perhaps this was one of them. But that had been over five months back, surely they had not stayed in Rohan. Most went back to Eriador or Gondor, working for King Aragorn. He did look familier, though, and Raen started towards him; determined to find at least one of the answers that constantedly bothered him. The man immediately stopped, however, when the ranger began speaking with young woman who clearly resembled the one he had so desperately sought to find...

[piosenniel]

Firefoot’s post

Harold wandered through one of the two aisles of a small store in the village near his home. Usually he would have sent one of his sons or workers to get supplies, but today he had decided to go himself and get a break from his business. His business. It still gave him pleasure to think how he had finally outsmarted his brother and gotten the Lightheart inheritance.

Other than Harold, there were only two other people in this small building. A man, and the storekeeper who he was talking to. Harold realized that they probably didn’t know he was there when he heard what they were saying.

“Do you remember Sandrina? You know, the daughter of Henry Lightheart?” the one man was saying. Harold stiffened at the names of his dead niece and brother. He wondered what news there could possibly be concerning her. Unless... “I heard she’s alive,” said the man. Harold could feel the rage rising up in him, and he stalked out of the store without buying anything or waiting to hear any more. He mounted his horse and heeled him into a gallop, heedless of anything but his own angry thoughts. Those sons of mine will be hearing it from me. They said she was dead! And now... Harold realized that he had to do something. It wasn’t the girl he was afraid of - far from it - it was her father. Henry would come after him to kill him; Harold had little doubt of that. I would be a fool to stay here. However, his pride warred with the thought of leaving. Only cowards flee, and I am certainly no coward.

Harold’s sense and his pride battled within him the entire way back to his property. The bay horse was lathered with sweat from the long gallop, but Harold had finally decided that, pride or no pride, he would rather be a live coward than a dead fool. Harold handed his horse off to a groom and saw his son Arthur crossing the yard.

“Get Samuel and come to my study,” said Harold thickly, not bothering to hide his anger. “But first spread word to my men that they are to meet and wait for me behind the house as soon as possible.” Harold knew that his son would know which men he meant; they were the select few that he had informed of their plans of Sandrina. He had not told them all at once, for then they might have told Henry. Rather, he had fed them the information bit by bit so that by the time they knew the whole plan, not only was it too late to save Sandrina, but it was also too late for them, because if they had gone to Henry they would have been every bit as guilty as Harold and his sons. Arthur hurried to do as Harold had said, and Harold made his way to the study to wait for them, every minute causing him to be more and more upset.

When his sons finally made their way to his study, Harold exploded. “Sandrina is alive. How hard could it have been to kill a weak, foolish girl? And yet you two seem incapable of even that task! Do you realize what this will cost us? Your error is forcing us to flee the property, because if we stay, Henry will come and kill us. That girl that you could have killed - should have been killed - is alive, and when she makes her way back to Henry he will come after us. No more Lightheart business for us! We won’t even be working here anymore! Instead we are forced to flee like cowards. Now, go and join my men behind the house. If you have something to say to me, you can say it there. I will be there shortly.” Harold was so mad that he was quivering slightly. He sat for a moment to calm down a bit and collect his thoughts. Then he got up and followed his sons outside.

Samuel and Arthur stood a little apart from the rest. Harold ran his cold blue eyes over everyone, silently making sure everyone was there, each one shifting uneasily when his gaze rested on him. When he was satisfied, he began to speak, his voice quieter than it had been for his boys, but holding no less intensity or anger. “In case you have not heard, Sandrina is alive.” This news brought murmurs from the group. “We can no longer stay here, or else Henry will come back, and do not expect him to have any mercy on any of you! We must leave, but before we go we are going to carry off everything that we can possibly take from this estate.” Harold wasn’t sure where that had come from, but he rather liked the idea. “The other thing that needs to happen is someone needs to get rid of Sandrina once and for all. Someone more capable than my sons seemingly are,” said Harold with a pointed glare at Arthur and Samuel. “One or two of you should suffice. Now, does anyone have any ideas, thoughts, or opinions?”

[piosenniel]

The Perky Ent's post

Arthur began the day as he normally did after his father owned the Lightheart Estate. He smoked a pipe on a hillside. With the money his father had given him, plus the extra money Arthur had acquired from selling the crystal from his sword, he was a rich man. Rich enough to get Old Toby shipped in every month. Thanks to King Éomer Éadig’s friendship with hobbits of the Shire, he learned of the many fabulous pipe-weeds and began importing them. Arthur, being a wealthy man, could import it from Edoras to the Lightheart Estate. For this morning, the Toby was particularly good.

“Ah! I’ve been missing out on the good life all these years! This is truly heaven!” Arthur said, putting the pipe down to watch the view. Under the hill, he saw two young boys fighting. “This should be interesting!” Arthur said, as he laughed down the hill.

Coming down the hill, he saw two boys fighting over a coin. “It’s mine!” one said. “No, it’s mine! I won it!” the other said. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?” the first boy said, who was slightly large than the other. “What’s funny is that your fighting over something you don’t even have!” Arthur said, flexing his muscles. “It’s none of yours! It’s mine!” Arthur said, snatching the coin from the boys.

“Hey! Give that back!” “It’s ours!” the boys said, but Arthur was already halfway up the hill. “Survival of the fittest!’ Arthur shouted down at them, flipping the coin with his thumbs, and putting his pipe away. “Time to put this one with the rest of em!” Arthur said, heading for his house.

On the way, he had to cross his father’s house. He couldn’t really call it a house. It was more of a small mansion. Being the sole owner of the land had been very good to him. While crossing the yard, he saw Harold rush over on his horse, which seems as if it was going to collapse. “Get Samuel and come to my study,” said Harold thickly, not bothering to hide his anger. “But first spread word to my men that they are to meet and wait for me behind the house as soon as possible.” Arthur did not hesitate.

Arthur ran to the stables, which were nearby, and grabbed a horse. Riding down the grass, Arthur rode several miles until he reached a very small tavern run by friends of the Lighthearts. Inside the tavern, Arthur walked past the entrance and the main room, to a small room in the back of the building. In the room, there were twelve men gambling, all shady characters. “My father has requested an early meeting!” Get your horses and meet him behind his house. Something bad has happened.” Instantly, the men gathered their money, their cards, and their loaded dice, and rode out to Harold’s house.

“Now where are you, brother?” Arthur said, riding to Samuel’s house. Avoiding being polite by knocking on the door, Arthur kicked the door open. Inside, he saw Samuel resting. “Get up brother!” Arthur said, hitting Samuel very hard on the shoulder. “Father brings tidings of bad news!” Immediately, they both got their horses and set back for Harold’s house.

When Arthur and Samuel finally made their way to Harold’s study, Harold exploded. “Sandrina is alive. How hard could it have been to kill a weak, foolish girl? And yet you two seem incapable of even that task! Do you realize what this will cost us? Your error is forcing us to flee the property, because if we stay, Henry will come and kill us. That girl that you could have killed - should have been killed - is alive, and when she makes her way back to Henry he will come after us. No more Lightheart business for us! We won’t even be working here anymore! Instead we are forced to flee like cowards. Now, go and join my men behind the house. If you have something to say to me, you can say it there. I will be there shortly.” Harold was so mad that he was quivering slightly. He sat for a moment to calm down a bit and collect his thoughts. Then he got up and followed his sons outside.

Samuel and Arthur stood a little apart from the rest. Harold ran his cold blue eyes over everyone; silently making sure everyone was there, each one shifting uneasily when his gaze rested on him. When he was satisfied, he began to speak, his voice quieter than it had been for his boys, but holding no less intensity or anger. “In case you have not heard, Sandrina is alive.” This news brought murmurs from the group. “We can no longer stay here, or else Henry will come back, and do not expect him to have any mercy on any of you! We must leave, but before we go we are going to carry off everything that we can possibly take from this estate.” “The other thing that needs to happen is someone needs to get rid of Sandrina once and for all. Someone more capable than my sons seemingly are,” said Harold with a pointed glare at Arthur and Samuel. “One or two of you should suffice. Now, does anyone have any ideas, thoughts, or opinions?”

Arthur thought for a moment, and then said, “The girl did slip through our grasps, but it won’t happen again. We know what we need to do. I beat her, instead of stabbing her. I gave her that, as my cousin. A favor, which I will not give again! We’ll ambush her, and stab her. She won’t get away.” Arthur thought very proudly of the statement, until Harold interjected, “You think she’ll just be wandering alone. She’s probably having a guard with her! There’s probably going to be five people with her, helping her get home! Not to mention Henry! Think before you open your mouth!”


Arthur pounded his fist in his hand, and then said, “What about mercenaries? If they do come for us, why not prepare a trap? What if we hire mercenaries to fight them?”

[piosenniel]

Morsul the Dark's post

First Post:

Sam looked at his brother "Really? Mercenaries to fight mercenaries, they don't fight to the death, and surely we would be more suspicious. Simply call it a mistake should it come to it. Even the finest undertaker can not tell if one is dead sometimes." Sam looked at his brother. His brother had a glint in his eye as if he was in deep thought. Sam pulled out his pipe and filled it with longbottom, the finest imported weed in the land. It had always been his custom to do so when plotting.

Finally Sam looked up, "Perhaps Mercenaries aren't a bad idea. However we need a plan that will clear us of suspicion. Let us blame it on greedy peasants, commoners looking for a quick penny-cent of gold." He took his last puff then put out his pipe. He expertly cleaned it and placed it upon the table. He took his knife and began to cut the pig flesh on the plate in front of him. As he did he stopped he could only think of what he had done. 'No' He boldly thought himself 'It was our inheritance she had no right to it.' He looked up at his brother and waited for him to to tell his plan, his brother was, after all, the master of the plan.

[starkat]

Anora reeled in her seat when she heard the man address the woman at the bar. “Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

It can’t be! All the reports said she was dead! But she looks so much like Sandrina… Anora’s thoughts trailed off as she made up her mind. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the bar and took a closer look at the woman. When she saw the pendent around the woman’s neck, Anora knew.

She came up beside the man. “Excuse me. I heard you call her Sandrina Lightheart?” When the man nodded, Anora turned to the woman. “I have been watching you since you came in.” Her voice broke and for a moment her emotions got the best of her. She brushed some loose strands of hair out of her face. “You are Sandrina aren’t you? The pendent you are wearing, I recognize it.”

Anora watched the woman’s face for a moment. “I am Anora. Do you remember me?” Hope built as she waited for a reply.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina looked up at the man and woman that stood before her. They knew her name.

"You know me? I've been missing nine months? Oh, my head hurts so." She asked, a smile forming upon her soft lips at the thought of being recognized, of finally knowing that she was in the correct spot. Every where she had travelled no one recognized her. Except here. And they knew her name! Yet, she couldn't remember these people. She couldn't remember being in this Inn ever. She couldn't recall why their voices, or at least the woman's, seemed so familiar.

She watched as they nodded, looks of confusion on both of their faces.

"I was riding to somewhere, a place of trade I think. I can not remember. My cousins were with me. The horse got scared. I fell. That's all I remember. I had nasty brusies all over me and I could barely walk. My horse was dead beside me. Who are two? I have no idea what is going on anymore."

Sandrina put her head into her hands, hoping that this headache that had came with all her thinking about trying to remember would go away. Every second made it harder for her think and she just wanted it all to stop. She wanted to be home. Home. She jolted upward. She had a home. She had a family. Where these two people her family? As much as she wanted to believe they were, something in her heart told her that they weren't. She swallowed hard and tried to keep the smallest sliver of the memory of home inside her mind, but it slipped back behind the dark barrier that concealed almost everything from her.

"I can't remember anything. All of memories are gone. Except for a few. I just found out my own name a couple of minutes ago," Sandrina whispered in dispair, tears slipping from her eyes and down her face like sorrow filled rivers.

[Firefoot]

Harold had gotten his emotions under control, at least to the point where his face was cold, hard, and expressionless. The undercurrents of the room were tense, though, tense and uneasy. He was still furious, but he had learned through experience that the first step to getting an advantage over someone was to not let them know your feelings and motives.

Harold surveyed his sons. The option of mercenaries they had brought up was an interesting one, if not entirely sound. Mercenaries would fight for money, but a larger sum would just as easily turn them to the other side. They would need someone to keep them on task, someone like his men. He nodded very slightly to himself. That would work well.

“Mercenaries,” he said gruffly. “They might work for part of the plan. They won’t do it on their own. You there.” He swung his head to the six men standing to the other side. They had remained silent before, clearly not wanting to be on the wrong side of his anger. “You will stay at this house and set a trap for Sandrina when she comes, and she will come with others, mark my words. I’ll hire out some mercenaries, and you will be in charge of them. Make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.” Harold didn’t like putting that kind of trust in anyone, but sometimes trust had to be given. He turned back to Arthur and Samuel. “We three are leaving, by tomorrow at the latest. I have no idea when Sandrina will show up here, but I want to be long gone by then.” He noticed that Samuel looked to Arthur before showing his approval. Samuel had always been too soft for Harold’s taste, as much as he had tried to harden him. Harold knew he preferred the nickname Sam, and to Harold this was another sign of his weakness, and insisted on calling him by his given name. Arthur was more to his liking, but he had still failed in what leadership Harold had given him.

Harold supposed that his sons dared not dispute his plan, and if they did Harold would not let them hear the end of it. He ran his cold blue eyes over Samuel and Arthur, daring them to disagree with him.

[Arien]

“Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

Braedon stopped, his hand on the door. Sandrina... Lightheart?... He turned; the man had addressed the woman. Crystal. Or was it Sandrina? He moved to the bar, listening to the conversation between the two. Then another woman approached.

She too addressed her as Sandrina. Two people? Surely they couldn’t have got it wrong! This had to be the one that they had searched for, and given up on. He shook his head, how could they have thought her to be dead?

Braedon waited, and listened to Sandrina as she talked to the two. “I can't remember anything. All of memories are gone. Except for a few. I just found out my own name a couple of minutes ago” She spoke softly, as tears filled her eyes. So she could not remember, this would explain her behaviour; this would perhaps explain why none could find her.

He turned around and leant on the bar, Sandrina looked a little too overwhelmed with everything at the moment. He eyes searched the Inn, could it be possible that someone else here recognised the girl? It did not take him long to see the Ranger at the other end of the bar, his eyes were intent upon the woman. He looked somewhat familiar...

...Yes that was it, he was also on the search for this woman. Braedon made his way towards him.

“Its her...” the Ranger whispered as Braedon approached.

“I believe it is. It is the name she remembers and those two beside her seem to know her.”

“Well this was unexpected.” He replied tearing his eyes off her, turning to face Braedon, “Raen.”

“Raen, yes now I remember. I am Braedon.”

“Of course, what may I ask are you doing in these parts? I am sure that most returned to Gondor and Eriador when the search was ended.”

“If what you ask is if I knew she would be here. I did not. It is just by chance that I should see her. I was in Rohan on quite a different errand, but I believe that my plans may have to be changed for now.”

“I agree. But her parents, no one know where they are. They moved deeper into Rohan when we abandoned the search.” Raen looked back to Sandrina, and took a sip from his mug.

“We must at least approach her. Let her know what she needs to.” Raen nodded, he rose and the two headed over to the three.

[The Perky Ent]

"Pack?" Arthur shouted at Harold. "How far will we tread from the estate?" he said, as he collected things from Harold's house for him to pack later. "We leaving this place all together! At least, until that wretched girl is killed. You heard the plan. We leave our men here, we'll get some mercinaries, leave them here. Our lives or at stake! Better leave the fighting to them!" Harold began going through a pile of cloths on the floor, and putting them on a table. "I know! I know! It's just...these men have as much to fear as we do. They aren't exactly Sandrina's best friends! What if they run too! Sandrina will bring her father and reclaim her land. We'll loose everything! And as for the mercinaries, they're getting harder to find every day! Without orcs, their need has decreased. There's so many risks!"

Harold was silent. Arthur knew that rage was building up. "You're right! Of course, you're right! The plan won't work. We'll just draw our swords and meet them when they come. Sure, we'll be outnumbered three to one, but that doesn't matter! Right? It's better just to stay here!" Harold said in a sarcastic, yet fatherly tone.

"Really?" Arthur said inquisitivly. "No! Idiot child! Have I taught you nothing? What is in that thick skull of yours? Because it obviously isn't brains! I've had it up to hear with you! I'm not going to wait here to die. We have little choice, but I'd rather be a living coward than a brave corpse!" Arthur blushed, nodded his head slowly, and left the room. Getting his horse, Arthur road with his brother through the estate.

"Do you think the plan will work, brother?" Samuel said to Arthur as they galloped across a vast plain of short grass. "Honestly? I don't trust father's friends. They're about as brave as he is. While we're gone, they could loot the whole estate and run. No doubt they'll run to Gondor. They'll be safe there. King Elessar isn't big on death. I don't really like him very much, or any ruler for that matter. As far as I'm concerned, they should keep their fat noses out of other peoples business! The less government, the easier it is!" "Well, King Eomer is good for one thing" Sam said. "And what's that?" Arthur asked his brother calmly. "Pipeweed"

After a long ride, they reached the old well. It had marked the divider between Arthur and Samuel's land since their father re-established the Lightheart estate. "Well, I'll be seeing you, brother" Samuel said to Arthur, riding off into the horizon. "Well," Arthur said, taking a deep breath, "Time to pack!"

[Himaran]

The two rangers moved through the inn slowly, not wanting to rush up to Sandrina while she was clearly upset. Raen watched carefully as she wiped her eyes and began speaking to the man and woman that obviously were past friends. Any doubt he had previously harbored was gone; it was her, and after all those months in the wildnerness he was stunned. Where had she been? The ranger had scoured every inch of the surrounding forests but had found no trace of the supposedly "dead lady." And here she was, alive and apparently unharmed... physically, at least.

Sandrina turned, seeing them approach. "Excuse me, Miss," said Raen, trying to act calm. "My companion and believe we have seen you before. Perhaps you could shed some light on our suspicion."

"Perhaps, your name is not Chrystal," added Braedon; who had spoken to her before. The woman looked at them, then back at the others, as if realizing that they really did recognize her.

"No. Its Sandrina." She paused. "At at least I think it is."

"Who are you two," said the man beside her, although not in an unfriendly voice.

"I am Raen. This is Braedon. We were among those who searched for Sandrina, although the search ended half a year ago. It seems now, however, that it was not entirely unsuccesful."

The man's rigid features softened. "Hama, a friend of the Lighthearts. Thank you both for looking. But it seems that Sandrina has rendered it all unnecessary." The four turned to her, waiting anxiously for conformation that their soaring hopes were well-founded.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam went off towards his house, "I do not plan to pack," he thought to himself. "If they plan to run let them. I will not go just to please father. Father can go to the ends of the world he will still go to Morgoth's halls in the end, as I and my brother. Perhaps if I give up this way of llife now I will be spared." but then the thought of the money came to him. "So much money I could buy a new horse a new house and as much pipeweed as could be grown in a year."

Sam dismounted near a tree and sat down he began to smoke. His mind cleared and he concentrated. Would he flee or stay? Either way there was a chance of death. One slow and lonely, running away gave that. Or staying and fight, death by sword. Or the last option that just occured to him, If he stayed and surrendered perhaps he would be spared. But then he would have to give up his brother, that he did not want. It was a difficult decision.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina watched the men and listened to their conversations. Even though the man, called Hama, claimed to be a family friend she did not recognize him.

"Do any of you know my parents or where I lived before, before the fall. Before everything. The only suspects in this case are my cousins who left me for dead. I'm sorry I can not offer more. An old healer claimed I have permanet memory loss. I fear it is so. Please tell me everything you know about me. It may be the key to unlocking my memories." Sandrina begged the men and the lady that stood around her.

Her eyes looked up at Hama. His face seemed so familiar. That strength. She knew that she had seen it many times before, but at the same time it looked so much like every other stranger's face. She had learned in, how long had they said she was gone, the nine months of her travels that looks could be deceiving but she didn't have much of a choice. She had to trust these people. They all seemed to know who she was and had been searching for her. They could help her. She hoped they could. Life was bleak without memories or anyone else to travel with let alone be around. Everyone she had met believed that she was some sort of lunatic because she didn't know her own name and was filled with such confusion most of the time. She only hoped that these people would understand.

"I'll give you all money rewards if you help me. Please."

[starkat]

Anora had stood their listening as the Rangers came up to them. Her emotions were running wild as she listened to Sandrina’s tale. Saddness over Sandrina’s lost memories washed over her. I hope we can help her. I wish I knew where her parents are.

When her childhood friend begged for their help and offered money, Anora sat down next to her. “I won’t take your money. I would be glad to help.” Pulling a worn envelope out of her pocket she handed it over to Sandrina.

“Because of my family's business, we didn't get to see each other often. In fact the last time was a few years ago. To keep in touch, we wrote letters back and forth all the time. This envelope contains the last letter I ever received from you.” Anora watched as Sandrina fingered the envelope. Hama leaned over to look at the address.

After a moment Anora continued. “I remember the letter you sent me just after you got your necklace. You drew a picture of it so I could know what it looked like.” That brought a small smile to Sandrina’s face.

“When you disappeared I never truly believed that you were dead. Since all that had been found was your sword, I always held out hope.” Anora’s voice trembled. “You were on your way to Gondor when you disappeared. I was to meet you there.”

Anora stopped there. Everyone was watching her. Momentarily shy, Anora looked to the man who had introduced himself as Hama.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina looked at the piece of parchment that Anora was holding out in front of her. There on the paper just as she had said, there was a sketch of the necklace that hung around her neck. The words that she had written were scribbled with a small slant as if the writer was excited.

A memory stirred. A memory of sitting at the oak desk and writing furiously, happily to her friend about the amazing gift her parents had made for her before the trip.

Sandrina looked up and smiled, a bright and cheerful smile that was filled with hope.

"I remember that. I remember doing that!" Sandrina exclaimed, her heart racing, "That was before, before my cousins..."

Sandrina stopped, her eyes gazed far away in thought. The memories of the fall made her head throb in pain. She rubbed her right temple, trying to ease it.

"I was beaten," Sandrina whispered as realizations of what truly happened came to her mind. She could only see a fragment of her memories in her minds eye, but she could see it all the same. Their clubs came swiftly down upon her in anger. Yes, she had been beaten and left for dead.

She looked up at the small group that formed. She looked each of them in the eyes, hoping to find something of realization in them as well. She saw shock within them.

"Where are they?" Sandrina asked, her small, delicate hands clenching in anger.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam looked up as a light rain began to fall. It was as if the rain washed away the clouds in his mind. He would stay in hopes of forgiveness. It did not matter how much money the inheritance was worth he would see her every time he spent it. It wasn't worth it, whether by the slow decay of time or through guilt he would go insane.

Sam walked towards the stable guiding his horse. as he entered a mouse scurried past his feet, he pursued it for a moment then let it go. "No, I will not fall prey to primal instincts. I am a man and I have sinned, I must face what comes." He said aloud. He began to take off his sword then thought better of it. "What if they don't forgive me?" He quietly whispered. "I will be forced to fight." With that he tied his horse then went off towards the estate.

[Firefoot]

Harold watched Arthur gallop off through a window. Samuel had slipped off with him, and his other men had beat a hasty retreat as soon as the meeting was over. If he had been in control of his emotions only a little while ago, Arthur’s outburst had put him over the top again. He looked around for something to vent his anger on, and seeing nothing, unsheathed his belt knife. He hurled it as hard as he could at the wooden door across the room, and smiled grimly when it went so that only a few inches of the blade were left open. If he could admit it to himself, he was actually quite pleased that Arthur had been strong enough to stand up to him; it made him feel that he hadn’t completely failed in rasing his boys. He left the knife buried in the door for now, and headed outside to the stables.

It was only a short walk, and once there he wasted no time in finding what he needed. He was relieved to find that the bay horse he had ridden so hard from town was recovering. It would be sound to ride tomorrow. That was his best horse. As he walked down the aisle he calculated how many horses they would need and whether to take a wagon or not. He wanted speed, but certainly they would be able to bring more things if they took the wagon. Harold decided that if he and his sons each brought an extra mount those horses could also be used for pack animals, and a cart would not be needed. He retrieved some saddlebags for packing, and returned to the house as it began to drizzle.

Harold collected all the money and things of value that he had in the house. There was quite a bit; the Lightheart estate was a very successful one. The valuables would be buried nearby for when he returned; they were too heavy to be brought. The clothes he had stacked up on the table before were all that he would need for garments, and he placed those in the saddlebags along with the money. All of the important records and agreements followed those. He figured it would not be wise to leave all of those for Sandrina to find when she got here, though what she would do with them he could not fathom. There was still a little bit more room, and he mused on what else might be needed. My knife, Harold remembered. He returned to the kitchen, and it took some effort to pull the weapon out of the door despite his strength. He belted on his sword as well, figuring it would not be wise to go without it until Sandrina and likely Henry were dead. He thought, and hoped, that he would not meet Henry again anytime soon, because the new house his brother had settled in was a couple days’ hard ride from here.

Harold looked around. He didn’t want to leave, but it really was his only choice. He didn’t think there was much more to do, other than hire some mercenaries. He supposed four or five would work; that would leave ten men here. Ten would do. Everything was coming together nicely, and yet he could not shake the feeling of foreboding that had been building in him ever since he had heard that Sandrina was alive.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam came upon the house and looked at it. It seemed to lean towards him, it seemed to know his secret. Sam was glad to hear is father rummaging around inside. Sam gave himself all the confidence as he could and walked in. There was the large figure that was his father. "Father," Sam started weakly, then louder more boldly, "Father, I have something to tell you, I am going to stay here I am not running away with you and Arthur I must face what I have done. Hang me they may, but Id rather get my illbegotten fate than live as guilt takes my mind." Sam looked for a reaction from his father his father seemed worried as well.

Sam remembered as a little child Harold had been rather rough but caring one of the best lessons was when he and father had gone camping alone Arthur stayed home to look after the servants, a wolf had come upon them and Harold killed it using his dagger. 'Look my boy,' he had said showing sam the wolf's face. 'You see that? It's fear, never show someone you're afraid itg makes you weak.'

How did this man, who had killed countless foes in battle, fought a wolf and cared for a family show fear? Sam took it as weakness something he did not see in his father. "I'm staying," he repeated. He then waited for his father to speak.

[Crystal Heart]

Hama took a deep breath. He could see that Sandrina was absolutely enraged by what had happened. He didn't blame her. He would be too if it had happened to him.

"Your father and mother gave him the Lightheart estate. He and his sons are living there. I pledge to you that justice will prevail. Do you wish to go there? To set things right?" Hama asked her, hoping that she did. At this point he would kill anyone else that harmed the young woman. She had the kindest heart that he had ever known. He had met her a couple of times and each time she had been fascinated by what he did and who he was. She never treated him any differently then she would any one else. Sure, she was his junior by five years but he had come to have a deep connection to the young woman. He wouldn't define it as love. No, it was a brother sister type love he believed. She looked up to him. She had looked to him for help and protection. Now he would provide it. Even if it meant his life.

"Yes, I want justice. I want to go there, but do we not need more people to accompany us?" Sandrina asked, looking at the small band of a couple of men and women. "We are very few at this point."

[Himaran]

Raen could see the pain on Sandrina's face, along with the fierce anger, and it was more than he could bear. She had been beaten in the wildnerness and supposed dead, but her Sandrina was. It was time for her attackers to pay. "Few, yes. But I will go with you as well; they left you for dead, and I have no intention of letting them finish the job." Not after a year and half combing every forest within five miles of the last area she was seen, at any rate. There would, of course, be complications. Sandrina's enemies would not simply abandon the estate... without a fight, at least.

"We must go to the family home, you are right, Hama. But they will not surrender it with no resistance. We have to be prepared. If we simply walk in the front door you, Sandrina, as well as the rest of us will not survive. These are killers, and they must be treated as such."

"I agree," said Braedon. "If we are to take back your home, information must be gathered... along with weapons for those of you that have none." The rangers waited, hoping that Sandrina would not shun their services.

[Firefoot]

“I’m staying.” Samuel was clearly waiting for him to speak, which was precisely why Harold said nothing. Most people were uncomfortable with silence, Harold had found, and if a person was uncomfortable he could more easily win them over to his side. Samuel began to fidget a little bit. Just as I suspected, thought Harold. He isn’t as confident as he would like me to believe. That gave Harold a good idea of where to start; if Samuel wasn’t completely confident, then he might be brought around to the other side. Harold let the quiet stretch on for a while longer, and when he spoke his voice could have been called mild, except for the unsaid message that lay beneath his words.

“So your conscience is niggling at you, eh? You want to do ‘the right thing’? Now tell me something. How would staying here help anything? You look for mercy. If there is none, what then? Do you plan to fight? Fighting means killing people. How would that clear your conscience? Let’s say they don’t kill you. Do you think they’re going to give you your job here at the estate back? I don’t think that’s what you really want. Working underneath someone, and having them in charge of your pay, which would in fact be considerably less than what you have been getting. Let the mercenaries finish off the job, and we can come back to wealth and comfort. It’s a mighty gamble you take, one that risks your very life. Come with, and I promise you that you will make it out alive. Think about it. Do you really want to stay?” finished Harold. He thought nothing of the promise he had made. He could guarantee no such thing, but the trick was making Samuel believe that he could. Harold felt that he had done a pretty good job on all accounts. Inwardly he smiled at the look of confusion on Samuel’s face, undoubtedly from his calm tone of voice.

“I’m staying,” said Samuel, though he sounded uncertain. It wasn’t the result Harold had hoped for, but it was close enough. Samuel was no longer solid in his standing, and Harold decided that it was now time to threaten. He took a step closer to Samuel and drew himself up to his full height. He had had plenty of practice making himself look intimidating.

“Listen, boy,” he said, mild no longer. The words were cutting, sharper than any knife. “You are coming, even if I have to knock you over the head and tie you to a horse. I would advise you to come of your own free will. I have known Henry a great deal longer than you have, and let me tell you something: you will receive no mercy. Do you hear me? Now get packing. Do you hear me? Go!”

[Morsul the Dark]

Harold seemed to tower over Sam as he finished his speech. Sam feared his father but he feared death more. Sam slumped down in a chair a tear running down his cheek, "I'll go," He said trying not to let his fear show or be heard. He began to walk back to his house.

As he walked, Harold's words filled his head, 'there would be no mercy.' He was right and Sam knew it. Sam went into his living room and packed his pipeweed, some provisions, and two changes of clothes. He went out to the stable and put his pack on its back and mounted the steed.

Sam looked back at the Estate, "I will never be able to return here," Sam said sadly. He decided to ride off the his brother's house. He wiped the remaining tears from his face. Then he saw his father riding ot from the estate, "May you burn in Morgoth's Halls," Sam whispered in a deathly cold voice.

[Pippin Pondlily]

Haven, who had been listening intently to the discourse between the five people crowding the bar, let out a low, long whistle. She was very familiar with Henry Lightheart and his brother Harold. She had trained Henry's family's horses for the past five years, and Harold's now for the past seven or so months. She had been very fond of Henry and his wife, never having actually met Sandrina, and was very sore to hear what had happened to their daughter. And when the Lighthearts packed up and moved, leaving their estate to Harold and his two bitter sons, Haven was gravely disappointed. Dealing with Harold Lightheart was like sticking ones teeth into a cold, bitter lemon. Even so, she was quite appalled to learn that Arthur and Samuel may have had something to do with the young woman's condition.

Haven finished off her wine in one gulp and approached the bar. She slid her mug across the counter and acknowledged the bartender, who had one ear turned towards the little reunion's conversation. Something caught in Haven's mind. If she could hear their conversation others certainly could as well, others who knew the Harold Lightheart. She decided to intervene and lightly touched the arm of one of the rangers closest to her. The group fell suddenly silent and looked at her.

"Sorry to intrude," she said, looking about the room, "but this may not be the best place to carry on your little…meeting. May I propose a smaller room to be of a more private, therefore, safer nature?" The rangers by instinct stiffened and lowered their hands to their sheaths, casting a glance towards the patrons who suddenly were quite suspicious, and almost sinister in appearance. The other young woman placed a hand on Sandrina's elbow and led her off of her stool. Haven smiled formally and motioned to a door on the back wall. "A private dining room," she explained. The original five walked ahead of her and she laid a silver penny on the counter and pointed towards the room. The bartender nodded and pocketed the coin.

Raen remained standing near the door after Haven entered. She caught his meaning and took a seat at the table, allowing him to lock and secure the room.

"No, offense…" the woman who was not Sandrina began but Haven interrupted.

"Of course. I'm Haven Storms," she looked quickly at all the faces, wondering if any of them would recognize her. "I work for Rillis Wheed, the horse trainer." To her surprise and relief they all seemed to have some sort of recognition of her name, or at least of her employer's. "I've traded with your father, Sandrina, and your uncle recently--but two weeks ago. I overheard your conversation and it occurred to me that perhaps I was not the only nosy eavesdropper in the room. I don't mean to be rude I only thought it might be safer for you all talk elsewhere. I understand that in the surprise of finding Miss Lightheart alive the thought of immediate security may have eluded some of you who otherwise would be right on top of such matters…" They were relatively silent, hanging on her words, and most likely suspicious of her exact intentions. She lifted her brows, looking openly at the others around her, "Have I acted inappropriately?"

[The Perky Ent]

Arthur's estate wasn't crowded with many buildings. In fact, besides Arthur's house, there were no major buildings at all. Just a wide plain of fields, and hills. Being such a beautiful location, many people would enter without permission, but Arthur took care of it. Apart from the land, there was a large pond, plentiful with fish. Realizing the opportunity, Arthur would charge people to fish in the pond. Presently, there was nobody there, with the exception of of Gimbrol, the man Arthur hired to keep track of the money people paid to fish in the pond. "Grimbrol, I'm calling you in! What's today's profit? Where's my money?" Arthur asked, dismounting from his horse.

"Oh, Arthur!" the startled Grimbrol said. "I didn't expect you to visit here today! What brings you here? Something wrong?" "Where's the money?" Arthur said, closing in on Grimbrol. "Uh...what money? There is no money! There's been no one here all day! No one!" Grimbrol said, his checks blushing. Arthur walked around the edge of the pond, looking for clues. Arthur didn't trust Grimbrol for one second, but went along with it anyway. "You're right, there's been no one here all day. I'll just go home." Arthur said, walking back to his horse. "Yes, go home and get some sleep! I daresay you need it. You're been working hard lately. Take a break. Go home." Grimbrol said, giving a subtle exhale. "Oh, by the way, Grimbrol! I talked to Peter Hollums today. You know him don't you? He runs the pub? Well, he was thanking me today for my generocity for letting him use my pond. He says he cought seven fish, and paid you well for it!"

In an instant, Arthur pulled out his sword, and landed it on Grimbrol's throat. "Trecherous little worm! All this time, you've been slowly robbing me! I should cut your throat! You don't deserve life! But I'll give you one chance! Where's my money?" The veins were popping in Arthur's nect as he held his sword firm. "Here! Here! Take it! Just don't kill me!" Grimbrol said, throwing a leather bag filled with gold. Arthur was still for a moment, but then put his sword back. Pausing, he then grtabbed his club, and hit Grimbrol's horse very strongly. Running after it, Grimbrol sprinted into the horizon. Grabbing the money, Arthur got back on his horse, and road back to his house.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam rode off towards his brother's house. He did not want to show his brother he was sad so he began to hum to himself to cheer up. As he rode he saw a horse galloping in his direction it had a man hanging onto its tale. Sam jumped off his horse and stood and as the horse neared it slowed to a trot. Sam took the reigns and stopped the wild beast. He looked at the man bloody and hurt by the dragging. "You there who are you?"

"Grimbrol, good sir," The man said through short gasps. "I work for Arthur, or I did at any rate. I keep his pond you see and he payed me so little that I stole from him and he felt need to punish me for feeding my family."

"Grimbol?" Sam muttered, "Ah yes! Grimbol your the father of Gorgona and Grinbo?"

"Yes, why you must be Samuel Lightheart, my children are very fond of you!" Grimbol stated smiling for the first time.

"And I of them," Sam stated then he looked Grimbol up and down. Why was Arthur so cruel sometimes? this poor man had a family and he had just wanted to feed then and Arthur had robbed him of dignity pride, and food. "Here," Sam said as he handed Grimbol a small bag of gold. "I am sorry I can not give more, tell your children that I will be gone for a bit and not to come looking for me."

Grimbol nodded and walked off then turned back, "They will ask where have you gone?"

"I do not know,"Sam said sadly with that he mounted and continued to Arthur's house.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina was grateful that someone believed that it would be a good idea to not allow her presence known to the people that were trying to protect her.

"I thank you all for your help. I do need it. Without my memories I am lost. I can feel some of these memories are already slippiing from my grasp. We will need to go to the estate, I am sure they would not have fled from what they have taken from me and my family. We will need weapons, or at least I do. I was stripped of
everything when I was beaten," Sandrina said, her eyes looking far away.

She never had believed that her own family would be so cruel towards her. Well, maybe she had at one time, but she couldn't remember if she had ever thought that way. She had lived, what the last nine months, believing she was someone else.

She only hoped that these people would help her and that she wasn't walking into a trap of deceit.

[starkat]

Anora had been surprised by the move into the private dining room. She was a little suspicious of the woman who had hustled them in there. When Haven introduced herself, Anora’s suspicions eased somewhat.

When Haven asked if she had behaved inappropriately, Anora took the opportunity to make introductions. “Thank you for your concern. You were right we should not have been standing out in the open like that. I am Anora.” She introduced each member of the company and then turned to the rangers.

“I need to find another horse for our journey. My own came up lame yesterday. That was why I stayed at the inn. He would probably be alright, but I would rather not risk him any further.”

One of the rangers nodded and went to see about it. Anora turned to Sandrina, “While I was here in Rohan, one of my stops was to a sword smith because my blade needed to be seen to. I purchased a second weapon. Would you like to use it?”

[Pippin Pondlily]

"If your party should be short on horses," Haven said, before the ranger left the room entirely, "I should have no trouble in acquiring some for your uses." The group turned to look at her. "It may even be a good idea to get fresh horses if you all have been traveling for some time from the looks of things."

Haven was beginning to feel a sort of obligation to these people to help as much as she could. Call it her citizen duty or what you please, she had a feeling that she was jumping feet first into something that could have a great impact on her life.

[Himaran]

Raen stopped at the door and returned to the group after Haven offered to procure horses. He was new in Rohan himself, and steeds (particularly the act of renting or purchasing them) had never been his calling anyway. But, feeling a strong urging to contribute, the ranger reluctantly pulled one of the long, slender knives out of his belt and extended it (handle first) towards Sandrina. "Perhaps, Miss, you would like use one of these? Deadly from afar, and in close, of course." The woman thanked him and slid it into her belt gingerly. He turned away and walked towards the open window, suddenly accosted by the need for fresh air. It was stuffy in the small room, and the cool breeze was quite comfortable.

Glancing down at the cobbled road, Raen noticed a lone rider trot his horse past the establishment and then gallop out of sight. Travelers were rare in these parts of Rohan, and the man had not appeared to be a soldier. The ranger knew that he was overly paranoid, but this was no coincidence. The messenger had to be headed for the estate, there was no doubt in his mind. How to explain it to the others, however, was another matter. Perhaps, this time, his worries should be kept private. At the expense of Sandrina? No, this was too serious a matter to worry about sounding foolish. Still, he decided to approach Braedon first with his suspicions.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina gave a nod of thanks and watched as the man hurried out of the room, his face flushed. She wondered why he was acting the way he was.

"Fresh horse might be a good idea. I have been travelling on foot myself, thus I have no horse. If it is alright with the rest of you. Excuse me for a moment," Sandrina said, following the man named Raen out.

She burst out into the cold night air and walked over to Raen just in time to see a dark sillouetted figure running away. She looked at Raen's face. She had never seen a man look so pale.

"Who was that? Why do you look so pale? Please, kind sir tell me," Sandrina begged, shivering in the cold. Her insides felt like ice and for the first time since she had wandered she felt truly scared for her life and for the others that accompanied her.

"He is going to tell them isn't he?" Sandrina asked, her voice shaking.

Memories of her beating flooded her mind. She cried out and fell to the ground, shaking and crying as the memories increased in intensity. A single word escaped her lips.

"Help."

[Arien]

Braedon watched Sandrina followed Raen out, and so he too followed. The others were capable by themselves at the moment and they seemed to have an adequate amount of control over the planning for the while. He had preferred to stay quiet during their planning, he was relatively sure that they were all able of supplying themselves with sufficient weapons.

They were, all in all an capable group, but Braedon knew that they would need to be more than just capable if they were expecting to do what was being suggested, or at least what he thought was being suggested.

He went after Sandrina, as she came to a stop next to Raen he slowed his step. His eyes cast down the down the road to where the two were staring and where a dark figure was fading into the distance. Sandrina looked a back to Raen, her face full of confusion.

"Who was that? Why do you look so pale? Please, kind sir tell me," she begged him, but Raen said nothing. Neither did Braedon. He stood behind the two watching silently; they were unaware of his presence. Quietly he watched as Sandrina’s confusion turned to fear. "He is going to tell them isn't he?" She was shaking now.

Still Raen did not answer; he cast his eyes down to the floor and the up to her as she fell to the floor, tears falling from her eyes.

“Help,” she whispered. Raen looked to Braedon. They both knew that that messenger was heading. They had to try and get going as soon as possible. Braedon looked to Sandrina, he pitied her, and it was surely a difficult thing to deal with.

He wished perhaps he could offer his sympathy or words of comfort to help her, but it was not in his nature. He did not even know how too! Anything he could think of sounded foolish and too naïve considering the circumstances.

Instead Raen broke the silence in-between Sandrina’s quiet weeping. “We will help you. We both will.”

She looked to Braedon; he nodded trying to give an encouraging look. It was hopeless.

“We all will.” Raen said helping her to her feet. The others now had taken notice of Sandrina and the other two.

Anora approached Sandrina, and grasped her hands. “You are shaking, what is wrong Sandrina?” Sandrina withdrew her hands from her friends and crossed them across her chest, rubbing her arms.

“They know...” she said quietly.

“Who knows?” Hama said, coming forward to stand next to Anora.

“A messenger, perhaps.” Braedon spoke up.

“Perhaps?!” Anora said, a little vexed at the situation. “It must be more than that if Sandrina...” she looked to her friend.

“What he means is it is likely, and we should be prepared for the worse. It is almost certain that if this messenger is heading to Sandrina’s Uncle we cannot expect this undertaking to be and easy one. We must be prepared.”

The group nodded.

[The Perky Ent]

"That tresonous Grimbrol!" Arthur shouted, riding back to his house. "Why didn't I just kill him! I would have sent a message to all who have tried to rob me! You'd think that after finding that farmer under the boulder they'd get the hint! But no! They try it again! When I get back, if there's been anything taken, everybody dies!" Across large green pastures Arthur rode, each mile a short gallop. Then, after a short ride, Arthur approached his house. Just the way he left it. "Home sweet home!" Arthur said, getting off his horse. The horse knew what to do now. It ran through the fields until it came to a fence on the horizon. There, a old man opened the gate and let the horse in. He would be safe for the night.

"What's this?" Arthur said as he observed the house. The door was opened a jar. "That's it! This one's gonna pay! I'm pushed over the line. It's a simple system. On my land, you do what I say, or else! I see no problem in the system. Why should they need to steal! Do they think I'm so rich because I rob?" Arthur said as he grabbed his sword and walked into the house.

Inside it was dark, but Arthur smelled something. Pipeweed. Someone had broken into his statch of Old Toby. Arthur was about to bring light into the room, but suddenly a light kindled itself in the back of the room. "No brother, you're rich because you gamble" Samuel had walked into the light to greet his brother. Instantly, Arthur put his sword away, and exhaled greatly. "Sam! There's no need to hide! What's the problem? Has father sent you? What's the matter?"

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama walked out of the doors of the inn, following Sandrina with interest more than concern. He saw her fall to her knees, and looked at Braedon. By Eru that man looked pale...He followed his gaze and saw the man running down the street. He swore silently under his breath and unstrapped his bow, fitted an arrow to it and fired roughly in the direction of the running man. Sandrina jumped at the sound, the others whirled around, looking at Hama who was standing, looking intently after his arrow.

It thudded to the ground in front of the man, who screeched to a halt for a moment, then looked over his shoulder and laughed and turned back to continue his running. Hama swore loudly, causing Sandrina to jump even more, and everyone else to raise at least one of their eyebrows. Hama knelt down on one knee in front of Sandrina, quickly replacing his bow as he did so, and took her head in both her hands, tilting it up so that she was looking at him. "Sandrina, if you need fresh horses, or weapons, or anything else from the Rohan armoury. You need only to ask. I can secure them from King Eomer. You will be perfectly safe as long as I am around to protect you. These men, your uncle and cousins, they will be punished so severely that it will make what happened to you look like a light fall." Hama smiled kindly as he said this, hoping that Sandrina would smile back, when she didn't he added, "You will have justice, I promise you that."

[Firefoot]

Harold had watched passively and coldly when Samuel left the room, a single tear falling down his face. He always preferred persuading people to breaking them to his will, but sometimes people needed to be broken. Harold only did what needed doing. If Samuel had been stronger willed he wouldn’t have come in here complaining that he could not leave with a clear conscience. It never occurred to Harold that perhaps if Samuel had been stronger willed he would not have given in to going. He did not dwell on it, and returned to business.

He was packed up, except for perishable food supplies. Those could be gotten together in the morning, or later that night. The next thing that needed doing was the hiring of mercenaries. He was resigned to needing to pay them, and then trust them to do their job. He wouldn’t trust them, really, but he had to leave them. There was an inn a few miles up the road. Harold knew that sometimes mercenaries without work stayed there. The day was passing to mid-afternoon already, but Harold thought that he could be there and back before full dark.

For the third time that day, Harold headed out to the stables. It had stopped drizzling, but clouds were gathering again; he figured on more rain coming soon. He selected a chestnut mare for his ride into town. She was a speedy horse, but she would not be taken when they left because of her bad ankles. As he rode out, he saw Samuel headed for Arthur’s estates. Harold called out, “You may tell Arthur that I am headed into town to hire some mercenaries.” Then he passed out of earshot.

Harold made it to the inn in reasonable time. He had not pushed the mare beyond a steady canter, ground-eating but not too tiring. He tied her outside the inn and went inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he realized that there were not many people inside the common room yet, due to the early hour. He did find what he had been looking for, however: a small group of men standing to the side, marked by their swords and bearing to be soldiers. Harold nodded once to himself. They should work. He walked over there.

“Good day to you,” he said. “I have a proposition...”

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina smiled up at Hama. She knew deep down in her heart that he was speaking the truth. That everything about him was true and that he would never betray her. She knew that he would never do anything to harm her and with that knowledge in her mind she felt much better about the situation.

Sandrina searched her memory in vain for a thread of him there. She wanted to remember him. There was something so pure and honest about him. Something that she deeply liked about him. Something that she was sure she had been around before.

"Whatever you can provide us, dear Hama. I trust you with my life. Do tell, have you ever been in my life before this night?" Sandrina asked softly, placing a hand upon his forearm that still held her face in his strong hands.

[starkat]

Anora stood next to her friend as Sandrina spoke to Hama. Lost in her own thoughts about the messenger, Anora gave a quick shake of her head when she realized that time was slipping away.

She turned to the group. "I am sorry for interrupting, but we should probably gather our things."

Raen and Braedon both nodded. Raen spoke up. "Haven, if you will see to the horses the rest of us will gather our things." Haven walked off conferring with each other about various places to get the horses that the group would need.

Hama and Anora exchanged worried glances. They stepped aside for a moment to talk. “I do not think she should be left alone right now. Maybe she should come with one of us while we gather our things.”

Anora bowed to Hama’s wisdom in this matter. “That sounds like a good idea. I will ask her and leave the choice up to her.”

Anora looked over at her friend. Sandrina was leaning against a chair. "Sandrina, where is your room? Do you want one of us to go with you?"