Ranger Commons II

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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RANGER COMMONS
The Ranger Commons consists of: Headquarters, Barracks, Armoury, Training Grounds, & Stables

Commons
A large stone building surrounded by a cluster of others is situated on the sixth circle, encompassing a large square courtyard. This is home to the Rangers, who serve and protect both the city of Minas Tirith and the lands around it.

HEADQUARTERS
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The first building to meet the eye is one housing the Headquarters. The unique architectural design of the building gives it the look of a six-pointed star. A heavy oak door protects the way into a spacious hall with a couple of windows opening up towards the street and allowing the light to enter. Next to the door of the Commander’s office is a large notice board with pieces of parchment pinned upon it, telling of roster updates and other important things Rangers should know.

Here, you may:
· Ask to be enlisted in the Rangers
· Have a mentor appointed for you to proceed with training
· Let your Commanders know if you will be away for a lengthy time

How do I train?
1. Sign up to the Rangers with your name, weapons and armor. Your name is your Plaza Identity, your weapons and armor are invented, typically one weapon and one piece of armor to begin with if you wish to bring your own. New recruits and any Rangers who wish may draw a uniform, armor, and basic weaponry from the supply room.
2. Once acknowledged, you may join in the storylines in the Ranger Commons or new campaigns. A mentor may be assigned or requested, with whom you can work on training individually or in the context of a campaign.

Uniform and equipment of the Rangers
The formal uniform is black with the white tree emblazoned on the chest.
Armour is left up to the individual ranger.

Current active Rangers
Name Rank Primary weapon Secondary weapon Healing Scouting/tracking
Pele Alarion Captain Longsword Recurve bow Advanced Intermediate
Arnyn Dealedwen Lieutenant Longsword Shortbow Elementary Advanced
Duinion Tirdinen Ranger Longbow Daggers Intermediary Advanced
Ilisys Azrubêl Ehtyar Ranger Spear Short sword Elementary Intermediate
Karis Ziranphel Cúner Ranger Longbow Shortsword Intermediate Intermediate - advanced
Kaylin Maethyr Hyandaner Ranger Shortsword and shield Knives Elementary Elementary
Abrazimir Dimaethor Ranger Sword and shield Armoured fists Elementary Elementary
Mourgan Alarion Ranger Longsword Bow Elementary Elementary
Thûllir Bregedŷr Ranger Longbow Shortsword Advanced Advanced
Unalmis Raxëlilta Ranger Shortsword Knives Elementary Elementary
Romeran Trainee Axe Bow Elementary Elementary
Amber Recruit TBD TBD TBD TBD
Trastion Leithor Recruit Longsword Shortbow Elementary Elementary
ARMOURY
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Not far from the building containing the living quarters of the Rangers, is located the Armoury. It is a low but very spacious building, and the torches on the walls between racks of weapons give it steady light. The many wooden tables and racks displaying armor and weapons all but create a maze that might bewilder a newcomer, or an overly sleepy soldier.

There is a section with spears and javelins lining up neatly according to their lengths, and next to them is a collection of battle axes. After these is a vast display of swords - lines upon lines of long swords, several lines of short swords, some broadswords and some rapiers. Then there is a section almost as large, but dedicated to bows. The greater part of it consists of longbows, followed by recurves. The tables in the midst of the large room contain pieces of armour, various daggers, helms, belts, scabbards, and various other accessories.

Along one wall, shelves rise almost to the ceiling; the bottom rows are filled with boots, and the garments such as extra cloaks, trousers, and tunics are stacked high on the other shelves.

The back door leads from the armoury into a small forge. The bulk of the weapons and armour are made by the city's blacksmiths; however the smith in this forge works mainly on maintenance. Her hands are full trying to repair all the weapons and chainmail, and whatever else wrought of steel the Rangers bring to her.



BARRACKS
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Living Quarters, Common Room, Mess Hall & Kitchen
Across the courtyard from the headquarters of the Rangers are the barracks - a sturdy four-storey building. The front door opens into an entrance hall. To the left is the Mess, to the right – the Common Room. Two long stairways lead upstairs. Right in front is the Barracks Master's office.

Mess Hall
The mess may be entered both from the entrance hall of the Barracks, and directly from the courtyard. Long tables with the benches run down the middle of the room. The mess can seat 600 people. Along the outside wall are large windows providing more natural light for the large hall. On the inside wall there are big fireplaces. All along the outer wall, under the windows, is a long buffet carved of hardwood. The Rangers can find the available drinks and food set there by the cooks. At both its ends are pumps providing fresh water from a natural spring.

There are also special meals for forces returning from or setting out on a mission. There is a smaller room outside the mess, sometimes referred to as the “little mess”. Here too there is a buffet, and a water pump. This buffet only serves fresh fruit, nuts, bread, honey and similar snacks. However, it remains open all day long.

Kitchens
Every Ranger knows the kitchens: everyone is required to do shifts there, helping with the washing and the cleaning, the unloading of merchandise brought early in the morning, and the bringing of items from the cellar, though never with the cooking. The kitchens take half the ground floor of the South Wing.

Pies are baked in many ovens, stew boils in huge cauldrons, pots and pans stand on the stoves. The bakery provides fresh bread and pastries, in the salad area fresh fruit and vegetables are cut, providing the Rangers with much-needed vitamins. Four big fireplaces are equipped for spit-roasting, but those are only used on special occasions. In the cooler cellars below, there are stores of cheeses, sausages, smoked meats and fish, apples, potatoes, as well as barrels of ale, mead, cider and wine. There's also a cellar filled with pre-packed field rations, ready in case the Rangers need to march with no time for preparation. It's said that even the rats avoid this cellar.

Chief of the kitchen staff is Sergeant Pete. He is a burly man with a mop of grey hair and merry grey eyes, who has been in the service for many years. He runs a tight kitchen and is very proud of the standard of the food he serves. Despite clear orders to the contrary, Sergeant Pete may sometimes allow Rangers into his kingdom to prepare their own food, if they stay out of his way and clean up any mess they make. However, he likes to remind them that this time is an exception and he would kick them out the next time.

Living Quarters
Two stairways lead off from the entrance hall of the barracks: one to the South Wing, and one to the North. The construction of both wings is similar: four floors. On each floor, a long hallway dotted with numerous doors lead away from the stairway. This is where the Rangers have their rooms and may find some necessary rest in between their duties. Each room has four beds, each with a heavy oaken chest at the foot for the storage of personal belongings. Two wardrobes stand on each side of the door, supplying ample room to store garments and even armour. A desk sits near the window, as well as a couple of simple chairs. But surely each occupant of the room adds his or her own personal touch to the room by how they arrange the things they bring along.

The officers live in the central wing, in private rooms a bit more spacious than those of the Rangers.

Common Room
The ground floor of the North Wing is taken by the common room, meant for the Rangers to rest in and enjoy each other's company or solitude - at times. It is spacious and has many large windows letting in the light. Several fireplaces have been built along the inner wall, and some armchairs have been placed before each. There are more armchairs, sofas and low tables around the room. Along one of the walls runs a bookcase filled with books for those who enjoy reading. It has a wide variety of literature beginning with some historical records and books on weaponry and ending with some volumes of poetry and fascinating stories.

Housing

Officer Quarters

Room # Name
Room 1
Room 2 Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Room 3 Captain Pele Alarion
North Wing
Room # Name
Room 1 Amber
Room 4 Ehtyar Ilisys Azrubêl
South Wing
Room # Name
Room 1 Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
Ranger Beren Camlost
Room 2 Recruit Dunulf
Trainee Romeran
Room 3 Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Recruit Trastion Leithor
**Request for a room / changing rooms may be made in the Ranger HQ OOC

STABLES
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A smell of hay, oats and dark cedar meets anyone entering the stables of the Rangers. Even though there is a long line of stalls meant for the four-legged companions of the humans, not too many of those are occupied. There was enough room also for the horses any other Ranger had brought along, though few had any, since the horses were not of much use in the cobbled streets of the city.

Adjacent to the stables was a barn with the stacks of hay and stubble, and the sacks of grain for the horses. There were also tools for any necessary stable work to be performed: wheelbarrows, shovels and rakes, and an assortment of smaller tools for the purposes of grooming the animals. There was a neat stack of the blankets - for the horses, not for lazy stable-hands - and a great many saddles and other equipment needed to prepare the mounts for riding.



Locations (please post in the color indicated for each location)
HQ: standard black
Barracks (blue: #0040BF)
Armoury (grey: #808080)
Training Grounds (green: #008000)
Stables (brown: #804000)

Guidelines for overall thread use:
Always indicate your name, rank, and location at the top of your post.
In character posts only, please.
If you must have an OOC comment, white it out, or even better - post in the HQ OOC thread.
Last edited by Pele Alarion on Fri May 20, 2022 7:04 pm, edited 9 times in total.
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Chief Counsellor of Gondor
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Cont. from the Previous thread …

"A few Rangers needed for a scouting mission in Ithilien. If interested, inquire in the office.
Prince Faramir"


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Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
in the office of Prince Faramir
Headquarters @Pele Alarion


The message on the noticeboard could not be mistaken. Neither could the tone of it’s author, sounding from the aforementioned office, after Unalmis had demonstrated rather too great a feat of enthusiasm …. "Now, it is allowed to enter without knocking the door out of its hinges,"

Taking this to be an invitation, the young Ranger straightened up his shoulders, pushed the abused door aside to safety, and entered .. to marvel at one of his childhood idols. It took a moment before he recalled the wisdom in breathing, and the respect he ought be demonstrating to the Prince of Ithilien.

I know a carpenter who could fix that, if I have done damage, O Prince,” he spoke honestly and, now that he thought about it, as though implying he had done such damage to property before. Since it was too late to retract first impressions, he sought instead to build upon them, for surely he could only do better than he already had. “The intent was not to disturb you, but the message on the noticeboard, .. I felt there might simply be no time to waste. I should like very much to be involved if I may, sir,Nal put in, the understatement of the century reined in so far as he could manage.

Alas my tender age robbed me of chance to serve in Ithilien under your charge, but I did manage to complete training just before the war and was employed then wherever use might be found for me. Many treks I have took in the forest though, before and since, under tutelage of veteran Rangers to become familiar with the terrain. I have trained with armour and arsenal in the training ground, I have been abroad with recent mission outside of the city, but my dream has always been to serve my countrymen in the lands of my fathers. In Ithilien.

The Ranger saw no point in inflating his capabilities save that would only set him up for a fall. He could have spoke more about his preference for obstacle courses, for the ease of climbing, running, anything lively which he had managed to take to as a duck takes to water. He had discovered a talent for those which superseded any long hours he had committed to exploring weaponry. But he doubted that would serve as anything more than bluster at this point. Only one thing mattered.

If there is any doubt in your mind that I would be an asset on your mission, my Lord, I would say just give me opportunity. To do credit to those who have taken me this far in my career, and to improve from any man, or woman, brave enough to lead me further.

Brown eyes followed Faramir’s every motion, hung in suspense for a response. There was a sincerity about those eyes, a hunger to be all that the young Gondorian could be. Dark hair framed the earnest face, full of longing, careless of any sense of pride. He would do anything to take up this chance.

I am sorry,” he put in, rather belatedly recognising that he had not yet apologised. “But I will beat down any door that is closed upon me, in order to do what I have been waiting for, my whole life.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

Balrog
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Caladcyll Markov (potential recruit), arriving at HQ

He took a deep breath. The building was easier to find than he thought it would be, its edifice roaring up like a wild animal amidst the mundane, tame, repetitive buildings on either side. He had left early this morning from the inn in anticipation of getting lost a few times. He was used to the winding streets and harbors of Pelargir, but he was unused to the wild bustling metropolis that Minas Tirith was. His father had warned him that the city would be overwhelming. His father had been right. Caladcyll had arrived on foot the day before; he planned on exploring the city but had been so overwhelmed by the sheer size of the city that he ended up staying at the inn the entire day, gawking out to window. All his years acting as his father’s courier and messenger in Pelargir had not prepared him for this. There were so many people. So many people. There had been a hum in his hometown, the collection of voices, animals, bells, and ships that he had gotten very used to. Here the sound was almost a roar. He had been certain he received more than a few eye rolls from the population as he moved through them with mouth agape. Likely, he’d look back on this first day and laugh at how much of a bumpkin he was.

He took another deep breath. He stood in front of the Headquarters of the Rangers. He wondered if, when he stepped through the barrier, he would feel different. Crossing from one phase of his life into another. He was surprised by the lack of nerves. He was excited, sure, but he had expected himself to be nervous and anxious the closer he came to the building. He expected butterflies in his stomach but the only thing he felt was an overwhelming sense of the sublime. This moment would be auspicious. He was going to remember this moment for the rest of his life. A smile curved the edges of the Dúnedan’s lips. He checked his sword belt for the hundredth time this morning, adjusting then readjusting then checking once more to make sure it was straight. He ran slender, sun-browned finger through ruddy blonde hair. He’d tied it back in a loose ponytail but in the exertion climbing through levels of the city and walking for leagues, a few stray locks had begun to fall across his face. He tied his hair back, pulling just a little too tight as he wrapped the leather cord around.

He then took that step. He misjudged the distance, too focused on making the moment a memorable one to pay attention to the cobblestone street suddenly rising and tripped. With the grace of a cat, though, he caught himself, slamming his booted feet down hard on the ground and steadying himself with a hand on the stone entrance way.

“Auspicious entrance,” he chided himself, using a perfect imitation of the voice of his father. “Want to somersault in? That’d be just as entertaining.” He grumbled, picking himself back up and dusting off. He, again, checked his sword then, once he was sure no one had seen his near spill, continued inside.

The air was different in here; at least it felt that way to Caldcyll. The place was quieter too. The roar of people and animals was muted until the sound was swallowed up by the stone.

It was beautiful in here, he noted absently. He strayed, trying to take in every nook and cranny of this place. The sounds of his footfalls echoed ahead of him. He tired to move lighter on his feet, but still the scraping sounds bounced and bounced off walls, announcing his arrival. “No sneaking up on anyone today,” he muttered to himself with a half bemused, half annoyed sigh.

He only knew to be here at all because his father had drilled it into him, over and over again. He’d announced to his father that he wanted to join the Rangers when he was barely a teenager and from that point on his father, proud and venerable, began to train him as best he could, giving the undersized, skinny boy a foundation. He drilled him with the virtues the Rangers espoused, testing him at every opportunity and every interval. This was Caladcyll’s dream. He was only a few feet away from it now.

Now is when the butterflies began to flitter.

The commander’s office was thunderingly near. Caladycll could feel his heart beating through his chest.

It was then that much of what his father told him about how to proceed his first time fled his mind. He was suddenly aware that he had no idea what to say or how approach whoever it was supposed to approach. He knew enough not to barge into the commander’s office and interrupt whatever meeting they were having, but he also knew that he could not simply stand out in the hallway and declare to the stones that he wanted to be a ranger.

Approaching cautiously, the young man knocked on the casing and coughed hesitantly. He didn’t dare speak, the fear of interrupting something too great. Instead, he took a step back and stood at attention, just the way his father had shown in over and over again.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

High Warden of Tower
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Faramir
Headquarters, dealing with young Rangers @Ercassie, @The King in Yellow


The young man who entered seemed to be overflowing with eagerness that might explain his way of knocking. Curious, Faramir crossed his arms and walked around the desk to lean against it closer to Unalmis, as he observed him with a small smile.

"So you did read my note and think I should take you along?" he probed, having listened to his account of training. "Was it your father who taught you some of the forest skills? A worthy man." While Faramir did not feel too convinced about Nal's skills and abilities, he had no reason to keep the young man back - after all actual work in the field was necessary to ensure that Rangers knew how to use their skills in a real setting. Besides, he rather supposed that this would be a training mission of sorts, though even those often turned out to be more adventurous than necessary.

"Well... there's no need to break the door or any other furniture," he eventually said after holding Nal in suspense for a few moments. "If you can talk a couple more Rangers into joining and get yourself out of bed to meet me tomorrow before dawn, just outside the Gate, you can come."

Then another knock came at the door, and Faramir supposed it could be another Ranger itching to get out of the city, or perhaps a recruit?

"Enter!" he called out to let whoever it was know that the door was not locked and entrance was permitted.
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Éowyn
Éowyn
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King Aragorn
Ranger Headquarters, at his unfrequently used office
Timeline: One day before the Rangers' return from the Eastern Menace RPG (well before Faramir's RPG)

The reports of the last mission left Aragorn... flummoxed. There was simply no other word for it.

First there had been Commander Amathen's reports, coming in steadily, albeit with the inevitable delay. Neutral or positive reports, not only including mission updates, but also updates on individual Rangers. Some of those individual Ranger updates had been written by Lieutenant Macardil as well - Aragorn could tell by the different handwriting on those pages.

But it were the last few reports that had unsettled him so. The Rangers who'd gone out on the mission would arrive the next day, but the reports had reached the city a bit sooner.

Aragorn rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. Amathen, a valuable veteran commander, and a good man (of few words, admittedly). Gone. Killed during the third and final altercation. At Bagurzlaam's lair. Not just killed, however - murdered.

Stabbed in the back.

By his own Lieutenant. By the man he had handpicked - the man Amathen himself had been so convinced about. Macardil, who hd been taken prisoner by the other Rangers and was being escorted back to Minas Tirith by the very people he had commanded on the way to the south.

The King put the final report down, which had Pele Alarion's signature at the bottom. Sighing, he walked to his office's solitary window. He had only just started the Rangers of Gondor, or so it seemed, and it was all falling apart again.

On the positive side... they had suffered no other casualties. And they had dealt a heavy blow to this Bagurzlaam's forces, that much was clear. The enemy would be licking their wounds for a good while to come, Aragorn imagined. The Ranger unit had proved itself effective - and hard to kill.

His next moves were clear. Once the Rangers arrived back at Minas Tirith, Lieutenant Macardil would have to be imprisoned and questioned. And Aragorn would speak to the Rangers at Headquarters, the moment they would all report in - which was expected when returning from any mission.
Based on the reports, a number of them had earned accolades. Not to mention, he had a Commander spot to fill.



***Calling the Rangers who participated in the Dangerous Threat / Eastern Menace threads to report to HQ after returning to Minas Tirith from said mission, and "disposing" of their Lieutenant in the Dungeons***
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

Chief Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 2 909 
Posts: 1281
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
in the office of Prince Faramir
Headquarters @Pele Alarion

Set before Faramir’s RPG/some time months after the address by King Aragorn
(apologies for the timing of this post)


I would say 'hope', sir, as much as I might 'think',Unalmis met Faramir’s scrutiny without losing any shade of confidence. He might even have been said to bask in the Nobleman’s presence, as a blade of grass bends unto a bow before the glory of a brilliant sun.

I have both my father and some fine family friends to thank,Nal straightened up a little at the Prince’s remark, undoubtedly proud to be able to make such a report. “They took me to the scene of their own experience, and showed me where they’d done their duty, told me how, taught me why, and bid me listen so that I might one day do the same when my time came.

But he had never been deployed to Ithilien so far. After all the training, and during all the errands, duties, anything they could put him to keeping out of trouble, not ever yet the one thing he had been waiting upon, yearning for most of all. It felt very much like having done the examination and never learnt if he made the grade. There was only one way to know for sure if all the learning and the longing had been worth it.

That I can do, absolutely. Sir.” He exploded with a glee that could not be denied. The zealous Ranger ought of course have clarified, whether he meant he was capable .. of breaking all the furniture, or else of seeking further recruits to come upon the venture. One thing was for certain. He could certainly get himself out of bed in time. He likely would not sleep a wink for thinking on it.

Another, far more dignified, knock sounded at the door and the young Gondorian saw himself out, remembering only halfway to the door that he ought commit a hand to heart gesture before the Prince, which he did. The attempt was not so halfhearted as the delay might suggest. If anything, it overcompensated for having forgotten until now. Still, if the smile that Unalmis was wearing as he exited Faramir’s office was any indication at all, then the next young man to enter could suppose no fear in doing so.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

High Warden of Tower
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:58 pm
Ranger Pele Alarion
Reporting to the King Aragorn at HQ after the previous mission


Pele was not all that eager to step into the Headquarters this day; while the mission could be technically counted as a success in terms of beating the enemy, yet... The hidden danger from the inside of their own company had taken her quite by surprise, and she had not seen it coming until it was too late. And there had been nothing that could have been done to save the Commander's life. She felt disheartened, disappointed and angry, besides being incredibly weary from the demanding physical exertion required to complete the mission.

Pausing for a moment with her hand on the handle of the familiar door the Ranger took a deep breath to compose herself, hid what she could of her feelings and tiredness under a professional collected appearance, and then stepped into the Headquarters.

Though she still looked somewhat weary, she strode along the hallway with purpose, shoulders squared and her chin up. Another short pause at the door, a knock, and no undue hesitation to follow it up by entering.

"Sir!" Pele spoke by the way of greeting to the King, along with a crisp salute. "Ranger Alarion reporting as requested."
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Éowyn
Éowyn
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Ranger Kaylin
Reporting to the King Aragorn at HQ after the previous mission


What a ride this had been. Kaylin wasn't sure whether she wanted the mission to continue or whether she was glad it had come to a close.

On the one hand, it had been glorious.

A good bit of travel, by boat, by horse - staying at a fort, on the road, in a village; that had been a fun change of pace. And it had been wonderful to share it all with Thûllir.

Not to mention, Kaylin loved herself a good fight, and she'd definitely gotten plenty of those. There had been the first fight at the village. The second one had taken place right before they'd made their way back from the village to the fort; a nasty ambush, though it had been half expected and they'd been as prepared as they could have been. And, finally, a third one at what had seemed like the base of operations for the one who'd been behind the raidings: Bagurzlaam. That fight had been their revenge against the ambush near the fort. And it had been going well - until...

That was the other side of the coin right there, wasn' t it. The Lieutenant had gone and soured the mission. He had inexplicably withdrawn from the front line, giving Bagurzlaam some space to rally a small part of his troops. And then...

Kaylin was aware of her deepening frown as she entered Headquarters, but even her quick wash at home hadn't succeeded in ridding her of it. She'd seen it happen with her own eyes. Lieutenant Macardil had drawn his knife, and he'd plunged it into Commander Amathen's upper back, at the base of his neck. A few of the other Rangers had seen it as well, although not all of them - but the reactions of those who had, had drawn the attention of all soon enough.

Bagurzlaam had escaped with a small retinue of his best fighters.
After their initial shock, part of the Rangers had disposed of their remaining enemies, while another part of them had restrained the Lieutenant and had examined the Commander. By the time they'd gotten to Amathen, however, life had left him.

As for Macardil, he hadn"t put up a fight as they tied his hands. He had hardly spoken since the event, and had simply followed their instructions. All the way back to the White City. Some of the Rangers had tired asking him questions, but he had never answered.
They would have to sort it out at some point, however. What was to happen with Macardil now?

Did they even have anyone who qualified as a commanding officer now?

She supposed that was part of why the King was the one receiving them today. Honestly, this part was kind of exciting. She'd seen Aragorn before, but never up close!
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

New Soul
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:30 am
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Beren Camlost, reporting to King Elessar at HQ after the previous mission

"I can't say the mission was a total waste," Beren assured Isys and Nal while they entered headquarters. Beren remained unscathed the entire quest save for a cut across his his cheek which had been bandaged. "I healed Isys," he remarked, beginning to count off his fingers all the glorious things he had accomplished. "I finally met my son and forged a friendship with him," Beren continued, sounding happier. "I arrested Macardil, too." The Lieutenant had proven to be a traitor, aiding Bagurzlaam and murdering Commander Amarthen. Beren had seen him kill the officer as did Kaylin, two of the few witnesses; some Rangers had not seen this happen.

It was the astonished reactions - such as like Beren's vociferous cursing - of those who saw which alerted plenty to the Lieutenant's unexpected treason. Beren dispatched the surviving enemies with fellow Rangers. As weapons were drawn at Macardil, Beren tied his hands with the hithlain rope Nenmallen had given him years ago which he still often packed on journeys. Macardil didn't resist when he was bound. "You are under arrest for treachery against the Reunited Realm," Beren had told him him coldly than smacked the Lieutenant with a vicious blow of his strong hand. "That's for being a fleeging arse," Beren muttered before the Rangers led him back to the White City.

Beren entered Aragorn's office and stood next to Pele Alarion whom he smiled at and hoped would be the next commanding officer. He restrained a broad grin when facing His Majesty, maintaining his military bearing. "Stri...King Elessar," Beren spoke formally, hand over heart. He almost called Aragorn by the monicker he habitually used Arnor; Beren had often visited his northern kin years ago and had adventures following the Dúnedain Chieftain in Eriador's perilous wilds. Beren had come to Mordor with Halbarad's Grey Company to serve Aragorn in the War of the Ring. "Reporting as ordered, sir."
Last edited by Eriol on Sun Jan 17, 2021 6:34 pm, edited 4 times in total.
"Eriol... 'One who dreams alone.' ” - Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales I

Balrog
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Caladcyll Markov (potential recruit), HQ

The voice from within the room told him to enter. Butterflies and nerves reached a crescendo in Caladcyll’s stomach. For a long moment, he was frozen with indecision. Part of him wanted to bolt, run out of the room, down the street, and all the way back to Pelargir. It was a small portion of his mind, not persuasive, but very loud. What was it his father had taught him once? Create a void within yourself, feed all your emotions, fears, misgivings, and worries into until there’s nothing left but calm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t have long, mere moments before whoever was in the office came out looking for him to see if he had in fact run off like a misbegotten child. Calm. Serenity. Placidity. Awareness. He opened his eyes, and the butterflies fled. His hands and fingers tingled with potential energy, radiant and ready for action. He was still nervous, he had not yet perfected his void the way his father had, but his nerves were no longer going to dictate his actions or color his thoughts. Boldly, the young perspective ranger stepped forward, opened the door to the office, and stepped through.

For half a heartbeat, Caladcyll didn’t recognize the man sitting behind the desk. Then the stories his father told about Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien, all came back to him. The portrait his father often pointed out in their favorite waterfront restaurant did not do the man justice. He was older than the portrait now, of course, but instead of lines of age and hardship, the young man saw strength, intelligence, and temperance. His nerves crept up, threatening to seize him again but he pushed them down.

He wasn’t sure what the procedure was supposed to be here, what the ceremony or ritual was meant to be. His father, in all his tales about being a Ranger, had never told his son about his actual moment of joining. Were there words he needed to say, salutes he needed to perform? An instant of blind panic grabbed him.

“I’m, my name is Caladcyll Markov, son of Rakunion Markov, retired Ranger. I would like to formally submit my request to join the Rangers, if it please you, Prince Faramir.”

He let out a breath he had been unconsciously holding, his eyes began to wander at all the ornamentation (or lack thereof) within the Prince’s chambers. That was it. The die was cast, he’d crossed the Poros. There was no going back. A strong sense of calm washed over Caldcyll.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
HQ – Reporting to King Aragorn Elessar, after the previous mission.


The young Ranger shifted on his feet as they approached the Headquarters, feeling quite unqualified to enter and unsure what manner of reception their throng might receive. An officer murdered, not by their recognised foe, but by his own subordinate. Unalmis was still troubled in understanding how that might have happened. His face had asked the question that his lips would not raise voice to. Had it been an accident ? In the heat of battle, had the Lieutenant turned, overswift, an Orc stealing ground abruptly out of reach so that .. some terrible mistake perhaps could account for .... For, it could not have been purposeful. Nal simply could not shape that into sense, no matter how many times Beren and Kaylin assured all it was so.

He had no cause to doubt them, any more than he had cause of course, to have ever doubted the lieutenant’s motive. They had all followed the man, obeyed him, put their lives into his hands, and the notion of betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow. So denial fought it’s way to the forefront of all conclusions. They had gone abroad to better know and terminate a threat. Now the truth was that a threat had been amongst their own.

Any other day of any other week, month, year, the prospect of meeting the King, The Returned King, would have conjured cheer out of the deepest gloom. But to present before that King under such circumstances, even Unalmis could not raise a smile. Tomorrow perhaps, when he reflected that they were for the most part, survived and safe. But the King’s decision would today set the tone for how tomorrow now may look.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Faramir
Headquarters @Ercassie, @The King in Yellow


It seemed to Faramir that Unalmis might have acquired quite some skill, and that he took pride in having learned it from his family members. At any rate he would observe him in action and would surely take note of anything worthwhile to report back in terms of his abilities. The same would surely apply to anyone else joining in.

"Go on then, Ranger," he said, returning the salute which Unalmis had nearly forgotten; not that Faramir would run after him and scold him if he forgot. "I trust that you will do what I've asked, and see you tomorrow." He watched the young man leave and waited a while for the next person to enter, and even considered whether he should call out yet again that they could come in. It turned out to be yet another young man, apparently seeking admission into the Rangers.

"Well met, Caladcyll Markov, son of Rakunion," he responded calmly, clasping his hands on top of the desk, and then proceeded with a couple of questions right away. "Why would you like to choose the Rangers as your way of life? Also, do you know how to handle any weapons already?"

~~~~~~~~~~

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Reporting after the mission


The other Rangers began to arrive, one after another, and Pele made a brief eye contact with each as a way of silent greeting. While she honestly wished she could be cheerful, Pele could not help but have the sinking feeling that they had failed as a unit. They had not been able to protect their Commander; and she wasn't altogether sure that being engaged with battling off the enemy qualified as means of any excuse.

While the ensuing chaos had created the opportunity for some of the enemies to get away, Pele wasn't sure that Macardil was in league with them; his orders up to that point had been legitimate and reasonable. Could he have been motivated by some personal grudge? At any rate, there had been nothing that she could do to save Amathen's life when she was finally able to attend - the attack had been well-aimed and deadly. All that was left to do was to report and describe the details of what happened as precisely as possible, and she had taken this unpleasant task upon herself.

Besides the big picture of things, Pele had concerns of a more private nature. She wondered if reports of her own physical condition had reached the city, and whether the King would see it fit to lock her up in the Houses of Healing as a patient, or maybe even deem her unfit for duty no matter how well she had done afterwards? And perhaps, the whole set of experiences behind her loss of fitness would disqualify her should she disclose it more openly?

At any rate, she had arrived at the Headquarters with many unanswered questions and concerns in her mind, with many unknowns of how things would now turn out for her, and for the Rangers in general. Shifting slightly to stand at ease with her hands clasped behind her back, Pele remained silent, choosing not to speak with her comrades and rather simply wait and see whether any answers would soon become clear.
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Caladcyll Markov, at HQ

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel the nerves rising in his gut and the fingers on his right hand twitched intermittently, a telltale sign of his nerves for anyone that knew him. Another deep breath, clasping his hand together to keep them from moving, and he was ready. “Being a Ranger has been something I’ve wanted for years,” he began, a little too breathlessly. “My father was a Ranger for years and he told me all about the missions that he went on and, more importantly, why he did it. He told me there was nothing wrong with seeking glory and renown, but being a Ranger was more than just having stories told about you. My father told me that the real reason he joined, and the reason I’ve taken up as well, is so that people will be around to tell those stories, so they can tell stories of the fish they caught, of the deer they hunted, of the house they built. The Markov’s fight so that all the stories that can be told, will be told.” He hoped the response didn’t sound too rehearsed. He knew he’d be asked that question, knew for years, and thusly had spent years trying to come up with a reason, a purpose. His father had helped him along the way, but was firm in his insistence that Caladcyll come up with his reason on his own. He resented the lack of assistance in the beginning, but now, as he was standing before the Prince of Ithilien, he was glad his father had made him work on his own. He felt good, saying his reason for wanting to join the Rangers out loud. He’d practiced in front of mirrors, as a way to occupy his mind on long trips, or when he was having trouble sleeping. It paid off. Slowly, almost sheepishly, Caladcyll smiled.

“As to the weapon,” he said, bring himself back to the present. “I was taught the sword, but I wouldn’t call my skill anything noteworthy, I can at least wield it without cutting my own head off.” He ventured a small chuckle and smile before swallowing and continuing. “And I’m passable with the boarding axe, growing up in Pelargir it’s hard for anyone not to know how to use them. However,” he looked down instinctively to his belt and tapped the well worn hilt. “I only own an arming sword though, the boarding axes were my father’s.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Faramir
Headquarters, with Caladcyll


Even if Faramir noticed Caladcyll's nervousness he did not let it show; instead he simply observed and listened intently to the reasoning the young man provided.

"That is a worthy reason," he agreed, a slight nod of head and a smile to reflect Caladcyll's supporting his words. "People who live their daily lives may continue doing so if there are people protecting them from hostile forces." The Prince could have spoken of such times when protection would come too late, of losses, of desperation. There would be time later for such things.

"Well, you have some skill to start off with at any rate then," he concluded in relation of the weapons handling. "If you do decide to continue your pursuit of joining the Rangers, you will be able to find uniform and weapons at the armoury. Do you undertake and swear to be faithful to Gondor; to protect it with all your strength, health and life; do you undertake to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities, and to obey the orders given to you?"
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King Aragorn
Ranger Headquarters, at his unfrequently used office
Timeline: One day before the Rangers' return from the Eastern Menace RPG (well before Faramir's RPG)

Not surprisingly, probably, Ranger Pele Alarion was the first to report in. Pele had a long track record of service, in different forms of the Gondorian forces, and was a known face to all. Aragorn noted, however, that she did not seem to happy to be in his office. Perhaps this was because of the events she had described to him in the last report. Or perhaps, it was due to one of the reports he'd received beforehand, concerning her condition. The King didn't let anything other than a friendly yet official demeanour shine through his expression at the moment. He gave her a nod. "Greetings, Ranger Pele."

He was just about to say he hoped the others would be there soon, when Ranger Kaylin Maethyr entered. He acknowledged her like he had done with the first arrival. Kaylin saluted - there was a twinkle in her eye. This one didn't seem too affected by the happenings on the mission then. Or, at least, she had found a way to compartmentalize it. Kaylin had an excellent state of service within the old Gondorian military.

Ranger Beren Camlost was the third to arrive. This one the King knew from his past. "Ranger Beren Camlost," he replied to the man's greeting. He had helped one of the Rangers with her injuries after one of the fights, Aragorn remembered from the reports. He'd also be one of the Rangers to restrain the Lieutenant after his act of treason.

As more and more Rangers were filing in, Aragorn waited patiently. He ordered them out into the main room of HQ soon, however, since the office was soon getting too crowded.

When the group was complete, or at least nearly complete, Aragorn called them to attention.

"You've all returned from a mission that resembles a one-edged blade. On the one hand, you were successful in driving the enemy from our southern lands. On the other, you were cut - by the loss of your Commander."

"Commander Amathen was a man of few words, but one of the most capable men I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You've suffered a great loss."

"As for Lieutenant Macardil. Has he been encarcerated?"



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Ranger Arnyn
Reporting to King Aragorn Elessar after the mission


Arnyn arrived just after the King had ordered the already present Rangers out into the main area of Headquarters. Part of her was glad that she had been one to volunteer to deliver the Lieutenant to the dungeons, because the last time she'd seen the King had been years ago, when she'd handed in her resignation as Commander. Even though she figured he couldn't be too displeased with her, since she'd been invited to this new form of the Rangers, it still felt bizarre.
She entered just behind Thûllir and Ziran, who'd been the other two Rangers who'd been part of the Lieutenant's escort.

It was a reaction of pure instinct, instantly replying the King.

"Yes, Sir. Ranger Karis, Thûllir and myself saw him to the dungeons and left only once he had been locked behind bars. A brief report was filed with the Dungeon Master to make sure they know the extent of his crime, and explains why we three reported in on the later side."

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King Aragorn

"Excellent, Ranger Arnyn, as well as Rangers Karis and Thûllir."

"None of you are to refer to him as Lieutenant any longer. I strip him of all rank - he is now simply Macardil, a citizen of Gondor who had committed treason to the Reunited Kingdom." He paused as his grey eyes flitted over those of the gathered Rangers. "He will need to be interrogated. I don't think anyone in your ranks was part of his treason, but if any other Gondorian is involved, we need to find out. We WILL find out."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"Furthermore, I would like to thank you all for heeding my call and your service in this mission. Each one of you was crucial to its success, and driving Barguzlaam away from our people. At least for the time being," he added.

"Based on the reports I received from your late Commander, I have a few announcements.

Please step forward, Rangers Ilisys Azrubêl (@Ercassie), Karis Ziranphel (@Karis Ziranphel ), Azdiur (@Azdiur), Kaylin Maethyr, Hirluin (@Nen), Morwen Daegomir, Zevarion Grey (@Burnt Toast), Arnyn Dealedwen and Pele Alarion (@Pele Alarion).
"
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

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Caladcyll Markov, Recruit at HQ

Unconsciously, Caladcyll’s chest swelled with pride. He knew that being a Ranger was more than doing heroic things, that sometimes being a Ranger was a terrible burden because all that had to be done, and all that couldn’t be done. He was idealistic yes, but his father had made sure that he was aware of the pitfalls and dangers of being a Ranger that did not include falling off a horse or getting stabbed. Yet still, the desire to join was strong. Indeed it had never been stronger. He’d imagined this moment in his head at least half a hundred times, standing before a commander (never in his wildest imaginings did he think he would be speaking with Prince Faramir of all people!) and being asked if he was willing to serve. Despite the solemn moment, the young man could not help but allow a small smile across his lips.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up and looked forward with as much formality as he could muster. “I swear to be faithful to Gondor, to protect it with all my strength, health, and life if necessary. I swear to fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities and obey the orders given to me.”

Despite merely repeating the words Prince Faramir spoke, Caladcyll felt the gravity and seriousness of the oath. The words came easy to his lips and hung in the air, suspended like snowflakes drifting down from the welkin. The act of speaking those words transformed him. Caladcyll felt different after speaking them, as if he’d grown older or matured in the space of a deep breath. The weight of his words hung on his shoulders, the seriousness and dedication required to uphold the oath he’d spoken.

“By your leave, Prince Faramir,” he bowed his head respectfully. “I will make for the armory straight away to be fitted for the uniform.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Ranger Ilisys Azrubêl
attending the King's address, Headquarters



She had wandered in with the rest of the Rangers, even as the King commandeered the greater Headquarters space to accommodate his gathering. Ilisys looked about her, about their weary crowd, aware that something grand was going on, but without the proper faculties to appreciate the details of it. The last thing she recalled with any clarity was letting that brute of an Orc escape her at the first assault, back at the village. All was a painful and confusing blur since then, and though much had been circulated and whispered and theorised since, Isys clung to the last thing she knew with any certainty.

When she heard her name, small steps took her from obscurity near the back of the room, to face what she assumed must be some reproach from the handsome man at the front of the room. She really ought not to have let that Orc get away.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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]Faramir
Headquarters with Caladcyll
@The King in Yellow

Faramir watched Caladcyll intently as the man repeated the words of oath and surmised that he appeared earnest in what he undertook by it. Rising from his seat, he took a step out from behind the desk.

"Welcome into the Rangers, Caladcyll! I will write your details in the roster and notify the command," the Prince said. "Go on, get the uniform, some weapons, you can also request a room at the barracks if you are in need of accommodations."

He paused and was ready to dismiss the new recruit, and then added: "If you are willing to do some training on the go and if you are ready to start your duties right away, you can join me tomorrow before dawn, just outside the Gates. I'm gathering a few Rangers for an assignment in Ithilien. Otherwise, feel free to go and get yourself sorted."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters; with the King and other Rangers after the mission


There was nothing in the King's greeting and attitude that would help Pele determine what she should expect as a result of this meeting, and did nothing to make her more comfortable. Only time would tell, she supposed, and waited patiently as more Rangers arrived and began to fill up the room.

Soon they had to move into a bigger space, and the King spoke to them about their leaders. Once again Pele felt unhappy that she had not been able to do anything to save Amathen, but then again there was only that much that any human could achieve in such matters.

When Arnyn reported on having handed Macardil over to the dungeons; and Aragorn's further words about his treason made Pele realise that she had not really considered a possibility of a well-planned scheme with involvement of several people, and who knew - perhaps even organisations. This definitely would pose a problem, and should be investigated; if only Macardil was willing to speak.

A few of them were then called forward, and Pele found herself hesitating for a moment, her thoughts called back to the present from trying to conjure all the possible implications of Macardil's traitorous behaviour.

She then followed Ilisys forward, inspecting her friend with a concerned look. The injuries she had received had all but made her unable to wield any weapons for the time being, and she meant to ensure that the woman was well tended at the Houses of Healing. Once satisfied that Ilisys was not about to faint right away, Pele turned her attention back to the King.
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Headquarters
Aragorn's office after the mission

Kamion was late. It was one of his least favorite things to be, but at times it couldn’t be helped. And when Faran took it into his head to start tearing the stable apart, there was nothing for it but for Kamion to intervene and calm the temperamental horse, murmuring to him in soothing tones about how lucky he was that he was such an excellent campaigner, or he would have been dogmeat long ago. Once the stables were no longer in danger of destruction by an army of one gelding, Kamion hastened to the commons, where those who had taken part in the latest ill-fated mission, the first of the King’s new force, had been summoned by Aragorn to his chamber in the headquarters- to account, perhaps, though the Dúnadan knew Pele had written an exhaustive report on the events that had so unexpectedly occurred. Kamion’s mind continued to churn over them, as it had since Macardil had plunged his blade into Amathen. There had been nothing to be done for the Commander, and Kamion had held his fellow veteran’s hand as the life drained from his eyes. Over fifty years in service, and it never got easier. With a silence that belied his size, Kamion slipped into King Elessar’s office, in time to hear Arnyn inform Aragorn that Macardil had been incarcerated without incident. Upon hearing the King’s assertion that the former Lieutenant would need to be interrogated, Kamion nodded, his jaw set in the only outward sign of his anger at the man’s betrayal- that, and a brief flash in his cobalt eyes. At the back of the group, the Dúnadan watched as his fellows, summoned by Aragorn, stepped forward.
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Éowyn
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King Aragorn
At Ranger HQ - after the last mission

When the called upon Rangers had stepped forward and lined up, Aragorn took a small pouch from the back of his belt and opened it. He approached Isys first.

"Ranger Ilisys Azrubêl," he greeted her personally as he retrieved a badge from the pouch. "Being wounded has no impact on witnessed skill with your weapon. As was Commander Amathen's wish." A slight smile. "I hereby grant you the Ehtyar specialization." He pinned the badge on the front of her shoulder.

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"Ranger Karis Ziranphel," the King said as he moved along the line and took out a different badge. "Your arrows were true this mission, and it did not go unnoticed. You have earned the Cúner specialization." After pinning it on her shoulder, he gave her a nod.

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"Ranger Azdiur." Again, a different type of badge was in order. Once he found the Yantyar sigil, Aragorn locked eyes with the man. "New to Minas Tirith ranks, but you've proven invaluable. Congratulations, Yantyar." It looked right on the man's shoulder.

"Ranger Pele Alarion." The same badge, this time, albeit for a different reason. "The skill of a healer is just as invaluable; you were the one who brought that to this mission, more than any other. You've earned the Yantyar specialization." Once he'd pinned the badge on Pele, he gave her a pensive nod.

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"Ranger Kaylin Maethyr." His pouch was still heavy with a number of badges to bestow. "Still an enthusiastic presence in battle, I've been told. I grant you the Hyandaner specialization." Her eyes shone brighter than the badge on her shoulder, the King thought to himself.

"Ranger Hirluin. Your skill with a blade caught the eye of your commander. Congratulations, Hyandaner." The Hyandaner badge suited him.

"Ranger Morwen Daegomir. You caught the eye of your commander as well. You did well, and I hope you will not leave our ranks any time soon." He pinned the Hyandaner badge on her shoulder.

"Ranger Zevarion Grey. He is more skilled than he looks, I believe one of the Commander's reports noted." The King smiled. "I've always thought outward appearances aren't all they're chalked up to be. Well done, Hyandaner." Soon, the badge gleamed on Zev's shoulder.

"Ranger Arnyn Dealedwen. I am certain you will be pleased to have this back, even if just in title. After all, you never did hand in your Hyandaner badge when you resigned. I gladly grant you the Hyandaner specialization." With a slight smile, Aragorn pinned a new badge on her shoulder.

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Once he'd handed out the specializations, the King took a step back, to give them a moment.

Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters, after the last mission


It seemed that the commanders had written a plenty of reports back home, and it was all very good, as apparently some good came of it as well in a form of badges.

"Thank you, my King," Pele responded when her turn came, briefly meeting Aragorn's eyes. "I am honoured to serve." While her words sounded serious, there was a glint of joy in her eyes, as her fingers lightly traced the badge for a brief moment.

Yes, she would have been happy to be among the Hyandaner, yet it was better to always play to the current strengths; and she could do the healing even if she were not that good at wielding a sword for the time being. There was definitely a time and place for each skill. Besides, this achievement, the badge in a way provided her a sort of an anchor, another building block for the foundation she was setting to rebuild the life, even her own self, that seemed to have been shattered to pieces.

And yet, the King must have also heard that she could not perform as well in some other areas. Pele did not quite feel let off the hook yet and wondered if something less pleasant would follow. Even so, she was determined to get herself back into the best shape in all aspects, without a formal reprimand or strict orders from the King. There was work to be done; but presently, a moment to savour.

Once everyone had received their specialisations and badges, Pele turned around to look at the others. "A nice variety of skills represented," she said to everyone in general, while trying to decide which one of the comrades she should attack with congratulations first.
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Turin Ringhûn, reporting to King Elessar at HQ after the previous mission


“I have no idea why I even am going to this." Turin thought as he walked toward the headquarters. He was practically utterly useless in that quest. Even though time had passed, he still had no memory of leaving the fort. And after he woke, finding himself in a tent and told he was done for the mission and was told he was not cleared to continue fighting, he felt like an utter failure. He’d heard that his old friend Beren had arrested Macardil for betraying the group. “The Lieutenant was found to be a traitor, and had aided Bagurzlaam, not to mention murdered Commander Amarthen.” Turin thought to himself. None of it made sense. The two officers had seemed like decent folks. But then again, you could never tell about people.

Thankfully, Turin was able to return to the White City under his own power and was not in need of a litter. He’d been given orders from Pele to take things easy for a while, but he did not see himself following those orders. He’d tried getting information as to what had happened to him during the time he had no memory of. It seemed that while in the town he’d gone with the Lieutenant with, and was ambushed. While fighting against some orcs, he mis stepped and received a bad blow to the head. There was some other minor wounds as well, but the one to his head was the concerning one.

Turin entered Aragorn's office and stood at the back of the room. He lightly shook his head. An utter failure he was. And all that boasting he’d claimed about being the former captain of the swordsman. But then again, he’d had mentioned to his wife, and others the, saying, ‘pride comes before the fall.’ And a further saying, ‘hubris guarantees disaster.’

“My Lord King Elessar," Turin said formally, hand over his heart. "Reporting as ordered, sir." He then watched as the King went down the line awarding other Rangers for their deeds.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

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Headquarters
Aragorn's office

Kamion beamed as Ilisys was awarded her Ehtyar badge- no less than she deserved! She was a woman to be watched an a warrior or formidable skill. It seemed that the King was intending to retain some elements of the old army after all, at least when it came to specializations, if not full divisions. Aragorn moved down the line of those he had called, naming the deeds of each and bestowing their badges upon them. The Dúnadan nodded or smiled with each award; the reports to the King of each ranger’s performance on the ultimately ill fated mission had not gone amiss, and there was no award which Kamion thought undeserved. But, an unlooked-for and unwanted twinge made itself known in his belly. Ever since he had been old enough to serve- years before any of those who now stood proudly with badges gleaming upon their shoulders had been born- Kamion has served the White City in its ranks steadily and in good faith, performing his duty to the best of his ability and in whatever manner had been asked of him. He had come to service fully trained in the sword, and spent long years as a sergeant training others in addition to ordinary martial duties, never seeking fame or promotion, content to lead from within the ranks rather than at their front, fulfilling what he felt was his calling as an ordinary man.

Humbleness and devotion to duty were virtues which his father had instilled in Kamion from his earliest days. And yet, he thought uncomfortably, striving to push down the twinge in his gut, had he known that specializations were being handed out today, he would have expected to be returned to the ranks of the Hyandaner. Had he done something wrong? Did Aragorn have some other plan for him? Or was it simply not yet his turn for the King to decide what to do with him? Insecurity had never been much of a presence in Kamion’s life, but the end of the war and the disbanding of the army had left plenty of people awash in a sea of uncertainty, and he felt it now lapping about his ankles. Still, one thing had not changed: he would serve the City, and its King, however was asked of him, and without complaint. Whatever plan, or lack thereof, there was for him, would become clear in time. The Dúnadan stepped forward to join the rest in their congratulations of the honorees, and let his hand fall on Zev’s shoulder in a comradely clap.

“Well done,” he said, the corners of his cobalt eyes crinkling in a smile, “Well done, and well deserved.” Kamion nodded to Morwen, and then to Pele. “A change for you, but an earned one. Someone has to keep us in one piece!”
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Headquarters
Mourgan Alarion
reporting to the King after the last mission


He knew he was late and he inwardly berated himself as he approached the door. Entering with as little noise as he could muster since it seemed the King was speaking and handing out badges and words of praise, he didn't wish to draw attention to himself nor inturrupt the proceedings.
He took his place at the back of the gathering. Listening to the Kings words and nodding inwardly his approval he simply took it all in.

His thoughts did slightly wander to the missions events and the shocking happening. You could never tell about people, he had held the Lieutenant in high regard up until that point. The return seemed to him to be a blur, lost in his thoughts of the happening. He'd also come out the other end of the battle with little damage. The usual scraps, cuts and bruises but nothing he thought needed to bother a healer for, they had their hands full as it was.

His brown eyes moved back to the moment at hand and he moved forward to congratulate Pele and the others. "Well deserved Pele." He smiled at her. He was proud of his Aunt and knew how hard she worked to keep them all on their feet.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters, with the King after the mission


"A little bit unusual, yes," Pele responded to Kamion, "but I really don't mind making sure you are all fit and cared for." Yet, she could not help but think that it was rather ironic that she could take care of others and yet was not very good at keeping track of her own wellbeing. Apparently she needed someone to look after her as well, to help with her with weaknesses she had not been too keen to deal with even when identified.

"Thank you, Mourgan," she said to him with a small smile. "So now I have official grounds to chase you around with some bandages and ointments, yes?"

"Azdiur," the Ranger then turned to the comrade who had earned the same specialization as her though for showing skills that would cause her great difficulties if she were required to use those. "Very well deserved!"

Then she stepped over to Karis: "I never even thought of doubting that you could wield a bow with excellence, so this recognition is no surprise."

"Isys, I hope the badge give you at least some satisfaction for that effort and some comfort for being on the receiving end of that orc's weapons," she said to the newly appointed Ehtyar, and then leaned in to say more quietly: "Do check in with the Houses of Healing after, at least there is medical stuff available that might we might not have on the field."

Having reached the nearest end of the line, Pele turned back to head in the opposite direction and came to stand with Kaylin. "Well... who would've thought that you could be deadly with blades," she told the redhead, glint in her eyes and a faint grin adding a considerable amount of humour to the words. "In addition to coming up with mischief and... having an excellent ability to win the dice games. There should be a specialization for that too!" Pele was sure her friend would know exactly what she meant, that she was proud of Kaylin's achievements.
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Ranger Ilisys Azrubêl - Ehtyar
attending the King's address, Headquarters



She closed her eyes, lowered her head in a subtle incline, during the small time that the King, Elessar held them in anticipation. A slow return to the world around her found the man himself, stood within reach, and in the moment when Isys felt she might expect some remonstration, there was only reassurance. There was also commendation, in the same breath as there was condolence. Her suggestion of a smile softened into somber understanding.

You are my King,” was her only response, as though it might be all that she could manage to comprehend, with a flutter of barely caught breath. Or that in fact he was the cause for her actions. The greater respect owed to the monarch even at the point of her own recognition, for it was come from his hallowed lips. If she had been anything else, he made a new truth; she was Ehtyar. And her words were her own truth. He was her King. She was His Ehtyar. “For Gondor,” she awaited until his hands left her shoulder, before dropping in a curtsey of unspoken gratitude.

Isys stayed low as he carried out the remainder of his accolades, and if there were any who suspected this was just the latest example of Belfalasian theatrics, they were too kind or distracted by the ongoing ceremony to laugh. Pele though was kind enough to lean in and suggest further medical treatment. The Ehtyar could not ignore such suggestion made the new Yantnar, and her closest grasping hand ascended the height of her spear, proving yet how flexible and useful her favourite tool could prove, on reclaiming her full height. Hopefully it might aid her all the rest of the way to the Houses of Healing. For she had no wish to be inconvenienced by injury for any longer than she needed to.



Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
attending the King's address, Headquarters



The scene transposed with thrilling speed from apprehension toward celebration and the young man wasted no time in his own relief at the change. For all the respect which was referenced for their late Commander, the emergence of new hope took precedence. A thing all ought perhaps to have expected from such a leader as their King. Nal observed the recognitions with a growing want to fling some thing into the air in excitement yet, having only weapons to hand, the plan was wisely discarded. Also there still was, yes, the matter of the Lieutenant, and the passing of his victim. Maybe best to stifle some exuberance then. Some only.

It did not halt him from smiling as Pele spoke with her friends, with jovial threats of healing attention. “I should have known it would take you only seconds to make good use of this advancement,” he laughed, and offered a nod of respect to those others who had gained achievement in their fields. Noting that Isys’s face though was white as a sheet, he helped her back toward the back of the room, where they (and any unexpected swoon) might not be forefront of the scene, should the King wish to continue his oration.
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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters, King's address

"Well, it is not like this is something new," Pele chuckled softly at Unalmis. "The badge only confirms what I've done all along, but now I can do it with more intensity, perhaps." And she fully meant to do this, when they were dismissed, and make sure that everyone was well.

Then she turned to congratulate the remaining comrades, beginning with Hirluin. While she did not know the man much, Pele had seen his skill and ability and acknowledged it with a respectful nod.

"You two... always sticking together it seems. Pretty effective though!" she said to the unlikely team of Zev and Morwen. Quite by habit, her blue eyes looked them both over for any possible injuries they might be hiding from her, no matter how hard she tried not to go all out healer here, as this was not the place and the time for it.

"Arnyn," she came last to her friend, grasped her arm, and then pulled her in for a careful hug. "I don't think I can imagine you as not being a Hyandaner, ever. So this is most fitting and proper."

Stepping back, she aimed to find a place somewhere at the back until such time as they would be dismissed; mostly to keep in a quiet out-of-the-way place, as well as keep an eye on Isys.
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Ranger Pele Alarion
Mess Hall (some early morning...)


Two hours or so were still left until breakfast would be officially served, yet Pele found herself wandering out of her room and towards mess hall in search of something edible. She had woken up early and found it difficult to fall back asleep, so there was no use wasting time and trying to force herself to sleep.

Since it was early and she assumed that most folk would still be enjoying what rest they could, Pele did not care much for appearances and ventured out dressed in simple leggings and a shirt which was rather too big for her and rather looked like a short dress - it had been Maldir's, and now it was one of the few things she had kept of his belongings. There had been times when she had snatched the same shirt and had been playfully scolded by him when he looked for it. A small smile touched the Ranger's lips at the cherished memory, and her feet, conveniently dressed in soft woolen socks, soundlessly took her down the hallway and into the mess hall.

Acting out of habit formed by many years spent in and around these premises, Pele added some more water to a kettle and placed it above barely smoldering embers in the fireplace. These she nudged back to life with a poker and added a few pieces of firewood. She waited to see that the fire revived properly, and then returned to the tables in search for something edible. There was not much to be found, but she managed to collect two slices of slightly dried bread which she generously covered with a layer of honey.

With bread on the plate, she returned to the fireplace and sat down with her legs stretched out towards it. Biting off a morsel of bread, she munched on it slowly, while watching the flames weave their dance around the firewood. Perhaps this cozy atmosphere would bring the sleep back to her, and she could still get back to bed for a couple more hours. And then again maybe not. At any rate she did not feel inclined to go to the training grounds this early today, though sometimes she would do just that.
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Barracks
Room 3
Mourgan Alarion


He slowly came awake dispite his best effort to resist. He even rolled over in his bunk causing the bed to creak under his weight, on his back his right arm came to rest over his eyes. Go back to sleep.. he told himself, it was too early to be awake. He tossed, turned, growled in frustration before he slung off the blanket and sat up. His feet hit the floor as his eyes opened, he ran a hand through his brown hair then to scratch at the scruff on his chin. "Bemas arse." a low grumbling curse slipped through his lips before he reached for the familiar flask that sat on the small bedside table.
With practiced ease he uncorked it and pressed it to his lips, tipped his head back and let the liquid quinch his thirst. His eyes closed he savored the rich flavor as he slowly replaced the cork. With a bob of his adams apple it left a fiery trail all the way to his belly where it curled up like a content cat.

Standing, he put the flask back and stretched slightly before reaching for his britches and tunic. Within moments he was tucking in the tunic and finished getting dressed which also included tucking away his flask. Hastily he made his bunk and grabbed his weapons. By now the fiery liquid had ignited his hunger. He was looking forward to a good breakfast, nothing chased a hangover away like a good meal.
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Unalmis Raxëlilta, Ranger
Barracks – Room 1, South Wing


The standard Rangers’ rooms were all designed to accommodate four people, and this one certainly held up the charade, although there was in fact only the one inhabitant at the moment. Unalmis had begun his tenancy here with a room-mate and fellow recruit named Elugail, the son of a botanist, who’d aspired to become a great military strategist. He had been very short, owned a library’s worth of books, and spent a good portion of every night reading, or writing, or both. There had been no sign of Elugail when Nal returned to Minas Tirith, and he had asked around but no one seemed to know what had become of him. A single book was his only legacy and the proof that he was more than a figment of Nal’s imagination. That single book though had turned out to be an extremely useful inheritance as it happened. Unalmis used it to prop open the window which, else, had a habit of slamming closed without warning.

There was no need to employ an assigned door stopper, for there was generally always something on the floor to keep the door from closing. It was not even the case that Unalmis had a surplus of property. He simply forsook the traditional ‘find everything in it’s designated place’ system for his own ‘everything is out and easy to see with immediacy, so there is no need to look.’

Clothes and gear, in various states of cleanliness, some half-made traps he was constructing, and some rather ‘interesting’ things that he had found outside, and brought in, to make the inside more ‘interesting’ .. rocks, souvenirs, a dog ..

Ah yes, the dog. The point of this entire description. Unalmis and Beren had come by the dog during an attempt for the latter to help the former improve his swimming, in a river at the Pelennor Fields. Everyone had seen it around here or there by now, but Beren like many Rangers these days lived with his family at home. That family already had a dog in that home. Unalmis had returned after the Siege of Minas Tirith to find his home destroyed. It has since been rebuilt of course, but it did not even look like the home he recalled, and it had been sold anyway. His grandmother had died, his father lived for convenience sake over his new shop in the Marketplace. There was no means that the young man could afford a home of his own, and so to the barracks had he come. With all that he called ‘his’. Which now included the dog.

Hattie had been content for a day or two to stay overnight in the room with Unalmis. Mostly because he was prone to staying up late and only sleeping out of sheer exhaustion, a schedule that she could emulate herself. But dogs have more energy than sleep-deprived Rangers and exhausted young men that have grown used to sleeping outdoors, are less accustomed than might be wise to closing doors behind them. For the most part this had not been a concern, for there were so few Rangers currently staying in the barracks. Still, chance would have it that on this particular day, and for no particular reason, Hattie the patterdale pup woke up, tired of failing to wake up her exhausted new two-legged friend, and had trotted out through the open door, intent on exploring her new home.

Entirely oblivious to this, Unalmis loitered in the throes of well-owed slumber, until the words “ROOM INSPECTION !” were announced, rather loudly from the opened entrance to his lair. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he was amazed and relieved to find that it was not in fact the Barracks Master - who had actually threatened him (countless times) with a surprise room inspection. He was rather less relieved, though he ought not to have been amazed, that there had been, when he went to sleep, a dog in his room. And now .. there was not.



*Memories/mention of Elugail are credited to that character’s creator, @The Elf Imperishable
Last edited by Ercassie on Sun Jan 23, 2022 10:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
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Mourgan Alarion, Ranger
Mess Hall


Entering the mess hall he found it to be, well, quiet. There was no clattering of pots or the usual hum of voices discussing the days events. It was actually, peaceful. It was the crackling of the fire that drew his attention but what kept it was a single figure. He had to narrow his eyes to see who it was clearly and with the recognition he half grinned to himself.

It was obvious she wasn't in her usual attire, she looked warm and content eating the slice of bread. He momentarily thought about retracing his steps and leaving, giving her awhile longer to savor her moment of peace before the demands of her day pulled her in several directions at once. It was too late to retreat though so he opted to find something to eat. He glanced over to the tables. There wasn't much.

For a large guy he could walk quietly if he chose and he did. He took a plate of bread with some honey, an apple and a boiled egg still in it's shell. He opted for a mug of hot tea to wash it all down. Turning back to the room with a mug of tea in one hand and a plate in the other he opted to join her.

Approaching her he spoke. " Mind if I join you?" It was more of a formality then a question since he didn't wait for an invitation. "You're up early Aunt Pele." He took a seat near her and came to rest his plate on his right knee. " I couldn't sleep either." He sipped his tea briefly. "I hope all is well with you." He side glanced at her, if she wished to share anything with him it was an open invitation without being blatently nosy.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Mess Hall


Even though she became vaguely aware of Mourgan's presence when he entered the room, she did not react in any way and continued to bask in the comfort she had found by means of feeling rather cozy, fire, tea, honey, and all. Unwilling she was to let the feeling slip away, though she knew she should not linger here overly long so that cooks and hungry folk would not enter here en masse and catch her wholly unprepared to face the day.

So it was that she answered Mourgan's question only with a wave of her hand, as she still chewed on a morsel of bread - or rather honey, since there was more honey than bread in that particular bite. Once she was able to talk, having swallowed the delicious piece of food, Pele said: "Well, it seems that occasionally it is well worth it to be awake earlier just to enjoy this homely feeling, no? Wouldn't get this during the day."

While she felt very much at ease, though still a bit sleepy, it seemed to Pele that Mourgan might not be too happy with his own early start. "I think I have formed a habit of being up early," she shrugged, "But you do look like you might want another hour or two worth of snores. What's up with that?"

Pele turned slightly to give him a professional look-over with a raised eyebrow, though a small grin played on her lips. She did not feel like talking of serious and painful matters, as this was the morning when she actually felt rather good, but she was prepared to let Mourgan vent should he want to.

"You know... I was thinking to go back to bed for a bit, but then again it seems that I am pretty much awake, so might as well just enjoy a bit of early breakfast before getting properly ready for the day," she said light-heartedly, wiggling the toes inside the woolen socks. "Wouldn't mind a proper breakfast though, but have to wait till then. Don't think you'll be satisfied with yours either, hmm?"
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@The Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters
Reporting for duty after a leave of absence

Being inside the walls of the city gave some a sense of comfort, and security, a feeling of being sheltered. Duinion always just felt closed in, as if the gates would remain forever shut behind him and keep him prisoner inside. It was only his imagination, of course, but he hated being in the city. The sooner he could be back out in the forest, the better he'd like it. The air was nicer there. Fresh, clean.. open and fragrant with the smell of trees and nature. Here, the daily hustle of city life filled the air, with all the smells to accompany it. He didn't care for it.

It had been wonderful, being away for so long, out on an adventure with his old friend Addhor. It had been even nicer that he was able to bring Erynneth along, for he rarely had much time to spend with his daughter. It was hard to believe she was already nearing her fifteenth year. He'd seen to it that she ought never have to spend her life trapped in such a place, unless she so chose to when she was old enough to make her own decisions. But Erynneth had confided, during this recent trip, her plans for when she reached that age, and it troubled him as much as it delighted him. She wanted to be a ranger, like her father. He was pleased that she wanted to follow in his footsteps, but also worried, for he knew it was a dangerous life. Addhor could tell her better than Duinion, what sort of dangers were involved, but the girl had her father's determination. He knew that nothing would stop her, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that yet. He wondered whether he might feel differently if she were a son, rather than a daughter, and had briefly questioned Addhor on how he felt about his son being in the rangers.

Returning to Minas Tirith, the ranger was deep in thought, winding his way up through the circles. He stopped briefly in front of the orphanage as he passed by. It looked the same as ever, and many memories flooded his mind as he gazed at it. None were pleasant, least of all the familiar ache of wondering who his parents might have been, wondering... but there was no point in dwelling on such things, as Idrenhel used to tell him. It was she who had helped him understand that he mustn't dwell on the past, and things which weren't that important, which he may never know about. It was important only to focus on the present, and the future. Sadly, their future had not included her. He moved on, quickening his steps to put distance between himself and his childhood 'home', anxious as ever to get away from there, and arrive at the ranger headquarters quickly.

Now, the ranger finally entered the headquarters in search of a superior to whom he could report, and hoped there might be some reason to leave the city again as quickly as possible. Perhaps there was a mission out in the forest he could go on. Anything that might take him out of these walls and into the forest he already missed. Though he had just arrived back after a trip, he was eager to go back into the forest, and be far away from the city.



reason for edit: adjusting things according to developments which came about since it was originally posted
Last edited by Rillewen on Thu Aug 18, 2022 1:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger (Acting Commander) Pele Alarion
Headquarters, finding Duinion
@Purrmonster of Doom


While out and about on some other business, Pele had managed to preserve her appearance and uniform impeccable, though there were still a plenty of opportunities to change that, especially is she decided to go down to the training grounds for some muddy and sweaty obstacle course run.

As she briskly stepped inside, she nearly bumped into Duinion, just about managing to swerve around him and turn around to look at him - from the front instead of his back.

"Well, there is a sight that I haven't seen for a while," she commented, indicating his absence. "Are you returning to duty then, Duinion?"

While Pele was capable enough of engaging in nonsensical small talk, she much preferred getting right to the heart of the matter, as she kept in mind why she had come here in the first place.

"Look, I think I don't have your details in the list," so she said right away. "Want to come with me and fill in the blanks?"
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters
Reporting for duty after a leave of absence

Duinion hastily stepped out of the way as someone came up behind him, and he smiled to be greeted by Pele, someone to whom he could report. "Hello.. yes, indeed I am." he replied, pleased to be back even though the trip had been rather nice. He didn't get nearly enough time to spend with his daughter, so that alone had been nice. Then of course, traveling along with his old comrade and friend had made the trip even nicer, recalling old times and everything, while making new memories.

"Come with you?" He wasn't entirely sure where she was headed but he had no objection. It looked like she might be heading for the training grounds, actually. "Alright, that sounds fine. What blanks shall I fill in?" He asked with a smile, falling in step alongside her. As he walked, he considered what he knew of Pele.. she was a very capable ranger, and had achieved a high ranking position, even. Perhaps she could give some advice, concerning Erynneth, but he wasn't sure how to go about asking. Thinking on that, he kept quiet and waited for Pele's questions, to fill in those blanks she spoke of.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters/Commander's Office

@Rillewen

It looked to her that Duinion was prepared to go somewhere far, and a small grin played on Pele's lips, as she explained: "Just in the office, I'm sorting through the documents there and must make sure that all details are duly noted." With that she unlocked the door to the mentioned office to let them both in.

After much work she had gone through most documentation held within the office, and had slightly reorganised everything, though she was quite sure that whoever would inhabit the office next would make their own order. For now she simply made sure she could find things quickly when needed. And so she took a couple steps to reach the desk and took out the list with details of Rangers from the top drawer.

"Well, you just tell me what is your primary and secondary weapon," she instructed, sitting down so that writing would be easier and handwriting would be legible. "Also, what would you say your healing skills and scouting/tracking skills are like? I'm sure the latter must be advanced, no? Though I don't know whether you are a proficient healer."

She looked up at Duinion to see what he would say, and then with a corner of her eye spotted a letter on the top of the small pile of books. She did not remember having it there, so it must have been brought in recently, and she made a mental note to inspect it immediately after he had Duinion's details noted.
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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters
Reporting for duty after a leave of absence

Duinion was mildly disappointed that the trip was only to the office. He held back a sigh though, and nodded as he followed Pele there. Looking around, he noticed a few changes since the last time he'd been in here, which, to be honest, was some time ago. He avoided coming into the city at all if he could help it, and only when it was required for one reason or another. His home was out in the Pelennor, when he wasn't in the forest. Although, since Idhrenel died, he hadn't really frequented their home, but rather the place he had secured his daughter in. Home wasn't the building, it was where the people you love are, his late wife once told him. Where your heart is. How would things change, if and when Erynneth did join the rangers? He wondered about that as he took a look around the office.

"My weapons," He paused, considering that, and turned back to Pele after looking to find a window. "I mostly use a bow, so I suppose that would be primary. I have daggers for backup, when I need to get close. So that would be secondary. At need, I can also use a sword though I'm not the most proficient in that. Then again... at need, I can also make a stick into a weapon, or just about anything." He grinned. "And you would guess correctly in that regard. Not to be boastful, of course. But I am quite good at scouting and tracking, as well as setting traps. So much so that my comrades in my early years awarded me with the name Raedor, in reference to those skills." he shrugged.

"As for my healing skills?" He paused. "I suppose those are good enough. I've managed to keep a few comrades alive long enough to get to the healers.." He paused, a little sorrow passing through his heart. "Though, not all." He added as he remembered a young man he had failed to help.. but that was really because his wounds were too bad for anyone to do anything. "I brush up on my healing skills regularly," he assured Pele. "And I have taken some lessons both from experience, and from the healers, during the years I've been a ranger." After being helpless to provide any aid to that young man, he had made it a point to learn as much as he could in the hope he might prevent that same thing in the future, though they had assured him that boy's case was one where no one could have done anything.

"Is there anything else you need to know?" He wondered, somewhat feeling that this was rather unnecessary, but he wasn't about to say as much out loud. They had certain procedures that must be done, he supposed, even if he thought it was a waste of time. Time that could be spent out in the forest, with him showing what he's good at, rather than telling of them.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger (Acting Commander) Pele Alarion
Headquarters

@Rillewen

Satisfied that Duinion provided the information she needed to keep the records up to date, she wrote down the details neatly and legibly so that anyone who needed it could read her handwriting.

"Right. Bow and daggers it is then," Pele said, glancing up at him with a small smile. "Besides, if I came across a Ranger who wouldn't be able to think on his feet and use anything as a weapon when needed, I'd sent him right back to the training grounds."

When Duinion described his healing experience, Pele's blue eyes lost the spark of merriment, as she listened. "Unfortunately, not even the best of healers can save all wounded," her tone conveyed something of the regrets she had from the times when she had not been able to save people who were wounded or ill beyond anything she could have ever done to aid them. She had had to accept that life and death were not really for her to deal out as she saw fit, even when she could make things better or worse with her choices and actions.

With a deep sigh she then glanced over the notes she had taken:

"Primary weapon: Bow
Secondary weapon: Daggers
Healing: Intermediary
Scouting/tracking: Advanced.

Confirm whether this is right,"
she awaited Duinion's response, as she turned her attention to the letter. First she inspected the seal carefully, before breaking it to get to the contents. A frown appeared on her brow, as she placed the letter down and once again regarded the Ranger before her.

"Some trader has reported an attack from robbers on the southern road beyond Emyn Arnen and now wants someone to accompany him back to some village or other," she said, quite aware that Duinion did not seem too comfortable here in the office, or probably in the city as such and wondering whether she could assign him to go and perhaps bring those robbers down if found. Then again she might also join in herself just to do something else besides the normal duties, pushing papers and such. The frown deepened, as she thought over the options.
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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters
Reporting for duty after a leave of absence

Duinion managed a little smile at the joke Pele made about the weapon training. "As would I, in fact." He agreed, having done his share of training some of the new recruits. He wouldn't let any new ranger get through their training period without insisting they learn such skills, and even that wasn't always good enough, sadly.

The fact that not even the best of healers could save everyone was not a new idea to Duinion, but he nodded in reply to this. He couldn't help remembering the young man, having only been with them a short while, lying there dying. He had been a big part of training that one, and had become close to the boy. It had been quite a blow to lose him, though not as much of a blow to the young man's family, he was sure.

Trying to push that thought out of his head, he took a look at what she had written concerning him, and nodded. "Looks right enough. Unless you'd like to add a note about third-ary weapons, being 'anything at hand'?" He made a little joke of his own. Seeing the notes about himself put down like that made him feel a little strange, like the information about himself, who he was, what he did, all boiled down to just a few short lines. Like a school report, listing his grades and whether he was prone to getting in trouble, or well-behaved... like those files they used to keep at the orphanage..

Shaking his head slightly to get out of those thoughts, he looked up and noticed Pele was looking at a letter. A frown creased his brow as he heard the news about the robbers. "May I volunteer to investigate?" he asked swiftly, anxious for any excuse to get back out in the open, outside this restrictive city. "I'm plenty rested from my journey, and I can leave right away," He added, hoping to convince her, in case she needed convincing. "It'd only take me..five minutes, maybe ten, to gather my things and set off?" He stopped himself short of adding Please, please, please? but the longing to get out and do something was certainly showing, in his eyes, if not in his face.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger (Acting Commander) Pele Alarion
Headquarters

@Rillewen

Pele leaned back in her chair and watched the expression on Duinion's face with a small curl of a smile on her lips. She could see the eagerness clearly displayed, even if he had not said anything to confirm it. And yet she did not answer right away, as she put away the updated list and then scanned through the letter once more.

"The guy thinks Rangers have nothing better to do than escort pompous tradesmen back and forth," Pele said, pushing the letter aside. "So I guess you can have enough time to prepare. I figure that protecting him and investigating can easily go hand in hand, and he has stated that he will be leaving tomorrow noon. Still in?"

She stood and moved the chair neatly back near the desk, ensuring that the workspace looked tidy, and then placed the letter into the drawer so as not to leave it lying around.

"I might go along and see what is it all about, and perhaps check in how the local healers are doing and whether they need any help," Pele said, as she already set about planning how to join all the things that might have to be done beyond the river. It was technically not her domain, but forming good links and improving contacts was always good.

"Shall we meet up in the market tomorrow then?" she asked. "Also, if you are in need of a horse, you can always borrow one from those kept for the Rangers, unless you mean to run alongside the wagon all the way, or ride in it."
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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters
Reporting for duty after a leave of absence

Duinion waited, a little anxiously, as Pele took her time in giving an answer. As if purposely making him wait. Keeping him in suspense, perhaps deciding whether to let him have this mission. He told himself he was being ridiculous.. he was acting just like some new recruit eager to be assigned to his first mission or something.. it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been on hundreds of missions over the years. Perhaps it was simply because he had been gone on leave for some time, and he was eager to jump back into things.

At last, as she spoke again, he smiled slightly to hear her mention that he would have plenty of time to pack up his things.. that meant yes! He nodded as she asked if he was still in. “Indeed, I am.” He answered with a smile. That would be plenty of time.. to gather up his gear, spend another evening with his daughter, and say goodbye to her in the morning. He liked that plan better than setting off right away.

Still, there was a part of the plan that left him feeling a bit disappointed.. not to hear that Pele would come along.. he didn’t mind that at all.. but that he would have to return to the city to meet with her and the merchant. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that perhaps they might meet elsewhere, such as outside the city gates. But he held that back, deciding it might be better to simply endure another trip into the city, and hope it wouldn’t be too busy at the time. It was worse when there were more people active.

He realized she was reminding him about the horses that were kept for rangers’ use, and nodded. “Thank you, I will certainly make use of that,” He answered. “I haven’t got a horse of my own, so that is a good suggestion.” He used to have a horse, but that was long ago, and he only used these horses when necessary.

“Is there anything else, ma’am, before I go?”
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger (Acting Commander) Pele Alarion
Headquarters

@Rillewen

"Well..." she thought briefly over the sudden excursion at hand, "I don't think there's much else. You are too experienced to tell you the details of how to prepare for an outing like this." Pele laughed quietly, and her blue eyes danced with mirth. "Be sure to take along quite a bit of patience though; I don't know how arrogant and posh this merchant is - I know of a few like that, and then again some are very nice to build friendships with." She shrugged; tomorrow would surely show.

She lingered by her desk, for a moment indecisive of whether she should go and do a bit of training, or perhaps head back to her room and collect a few things - most were already within easy reach so it wouldn't even take that much time. She would have to make sure that at least someone knew where she was about to go... For her own safety, as well as in case any other eager Ranger wanted to join in, when hearing of it.

"Suppose I have nothing else to add," she concluded, and finally headed for the door. "I'll manage a few things; and suppose you will have a bit more time to see your family, yes?" Pele halted for a while in the hallway, thinking whether she should just inform the clerk of her whereabouts, or maybe leave a note on the notice board for other interested parties to find.
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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Headquarters

Duinion grinned. "I'll be sure and pack my backup supply of patience, in that case." He answered. "I've been storing it back for a rainy day, just in case." He hoped, very much, that the merchant would not be tiresome. He didn't particularly like to have his patience pushed to the limit, though he figured he could handle it, for the most part. One did not raise a child without having at least a little patience, after all. It often came in handy when one is part of a marriage, as well; he had discovered this back when his wife still lived. But before having a wife and child to test his patience, the ranger had learned the most patience when setting traps and tracking one's quarry through the forest, among other things.

Preparing to take his leave of Pele, Duinion nodded in answer to her question. "Yes, a little time. Enough, I suppose, to tell my daughter what's going on, and where I'll be." He wondered if she worried about him often. Probably. He felt bad for that, but there was nothing else in life he'd rather do than what he did; being a ranger. He knew that Erynneth understood that, too. "Well, then I shall see you at the appointed time." He concluded with a nod, resigned to having to return to the city later. With a final nod of respect to his superior, he exited headquarters, anxious to get out of the city and home to his daughter, so that he might tell her the news.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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@Pele Alarion

Romeran hadn't slept for 20 hours. When he had been only a half-day’s march from Minas Tirith, he had decided to push on instead of camp for the night, too excited to settle down. He was regretting the decision now, as he marched past the gates towards the Ranger Headquarters. How was he going to give a good first impression if he could barely keep his eyes open?

Romeran glanced down at his dust-covered attire, he hadn’t changed since he left Lossarnach, not that he had much else to change into in the first place. His grandfather’s brigandine had been comfortable at first, but was beginning to rub at his sides, clearly Romeran was larger even than his grandfather. He scratched at his beard, something he had only recently been able to grow, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell from looking at him that he was only nineteen. Romeran tried to neaten his black hair, tying it back with a piece of scrap leather to keep it from his face — which was mostly hidden already behind a thick beard.

Romeran pushed the door open to the Ranger Headquarters and looked around. He soon realized that in all this time he hadn’t put much thought into what he was going to do when he actually arrived at the building. He felt intimidated by the rangers going about their business, they all seemed to know what they were doing and Romeran couldn’t have felt more the opposite.

A sudden urge to turn around and return to his uncle’s farm overwhelmed him, at least he knew what to do there. He took a step back towards the door and hesitated. No. He said to himself, he had come all this way, he was going to at least try. Romeran opened his mouth momentarily as if to announce himself publicly, but then realized he was far too nervous to do something so gregarious and so he decided to wander haplessly looking as if he wanted to get someone's attention…

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters

@Romeran

Pele
had slept in late, undisturbed, which was a rather unusual feat, and yet she regretted nothing. Apart from the struggle of staying asleep as such she usually had days so full that it required early rising anyway; somehow today was different, and she had set out for the headquarters only after a slow morning routines and a hearty and leisurely meal at the mess hall.

Since there was no immediate need to rush down to the training grounds or do anything else requiring much action, she decided to check in at the headquarters to see if there was anything new there that she should be aware of, perhaps fresh orders, or more paperwork to deal with. She had sorted through most things in the commander's office, and yet there were probably new reports and what not.

Entering through the familiar door, she nodded to the clerk at the desk, and then spotted someone who looked like he did not quite belong here. Curious, Pele headed straight for Romeran to see what was it all about.

"Hello," she said simply. "Is there any way I could help you? You look... like a fish out of water." The rather unceremonious description escaped from her along with a lopsided grin, and she hoped that it would not make the young man more uncomfortable than he already looked.
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@Pele Alarion

Romeran was startled by a voice behind him saying hello, but, with all his might, he managed to suppress his surprise and not look like a jumpy fool. "Hello" he managed in a voice far too deep for his age. He bowed his head awkwardly and then cursed himself internally. Romeran cracked a smile at Pele's remark about being a fish out of water and the smile broke his dour visage, revealing a kind face and youthful eyes. "Yes uh," he hesitated "you could say that..." Romeran found his eyes wandering to Pele's feet but he snapped himself to attention -- what would his grandfather had said at this meek display?

Romeran stood, almost too suddenly, to full attention snapping his hands to his sides. His right hand wavered briefly at his side as he hesitated as to whether or not to salute -- did he even know how to salute? Do rangers even salute? He was slowly realizing that, despite being the son of a ranger, he had no idea of what it actually meant to be a ranger, his father having died when he was an infant. With a force of will, Romeran drove his pessimistic thoughts from his mind and cleared his throat.

"I'm here to join the rangers", he said as confidently as he could muster, standing at full attention. His chest was held high and his armor, what looked big enough already to fit a giant of a man, was practically bursting at the seams. His forearms were bare and his olive skin was covered in dust and scars, his calloused farm hands were gripped tensely at his side, "if you'll have me..." he added, somewhat less confidently and easing the tension in his fists.

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Ranger Pele Alarion
Headquarters

@Romeran

The sudden move of Romeran snapping to attention - as if he had practiced it countless times - took Pele slightly by surprise, her eyebrows rose for a moment, and then the smile broadened, as she took a step back to scrutinise him.

She could not help but wonder about his age; the beard suggested a reasonable maturity, but the actions were those of an eager and slightly confused and nervous youth. At any rate, his appearance suggested not only that he was simply large, but that he was not afraid of hard work, which was definitely a good trait.

"Join the rangers, hmm?" she repeated his words, and then nodded and said: "At ease! And come with me."

Pele walked over to the commander's office, unlocked it and left the door open for Romeran to follow. Turning around to face the would-be recruit, she finally made the introductions: "I am Ranger Pele Alarion; currently handling stuff related to enrolment and such. So... tell me your name, a bit about yourself and your family, your reasons for wanting to join? Do you have any weapons skills whatsoever? Maybe tracking - if you hunt?"

Realising that she had posed quite a good many questions all at once, she settled down in the chair and found the current roster in the drawer, just in case this young man would not suddenly back out and can be added to the listed Rangers.
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@Pele Alarion

A wave of relief washed over Romeran as he was commanded to ease, he'd done it, well the first step at least, he'd asked to be a ranger and he was being considered! Almost as soon as the relief came to him a well of dread balled up in the pit of his stomach, what if he wasn't good enough? What if they sent him back home to his aunt and uncle. Romeran was glad that Pele had already turned towards the office and so did not see the sudden fear in his face. He followed quickly after her.

Romeran nervously closed the door part way, leaving it ajar, not entirely sure if he was supposed to close it or leave it open -- a fact he had realized half way into closing the door. He hoped Pele wouldn't say anything. He felt somewhat more relaxed without other rangers potentially watching him. He wasn't used to cities like Minas Tirith and suddenly being around so many people was disconcerting. "My name is Romeran, although most people call me Rome" he said, the ease slowly returning to his voice. "Named after my father, he was a ranger." Romeran continued "but I never met him. He died when I was an infant" Romeran finished, looking down with the last statement. It wasn't that he missed his father, it's hard to mourn a parent that you never remember meeting, but he was sad that he was never able to learn form him. Romeran tried to cheer up a bit as he continued.

"I was raised on a farm in Lossarnach by my mother, her brother and his wife" he explained "My mother, she passed." Romeran struggled with the last statement, a glimmer of a tear came across his eyes, the wound was clearly recent. "The farmer's life is not for me. I want to defend those who cannot defend themselves, like my father." Romeran finished. He took in a deep breath, trying not to let the shadows of the past darken the present.

He patted the head of a bearded axe at his side. "I can wield an axe as well as any..." Romeran started but then soon amended "well at least for chopping wood..." he continued, realizing perhaps this wasn't the most compelling argument. "Aye, I can hunt and track a game, and I'm a reasonable shot with a bow." At this point Romeran was beginning to realize how little he truly knew about being a ranger and the skills he would need to acquire.

"I may not be the most experienced hand, Ranger Pele" Romeran was now beginning to feel that he would be rejected "but I'm eager to learn, and I'm a quick study, when I put my mind to it." he added the last part quickly, recalling what his mother used to say when Romeran was too distracted daydreaming about fighting fictional orcs in the woods with the other children rather than studying. "And you won't find a harder working recruit in all of Gondor, I swear it!" Romeran said, at this point determined to convince Ranger Pele, even if he had to beg on his knees.

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Ranger Pele Alarion
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@Romeran

Pele took up the quill prepared to take notes, but then again set it down, instead giving Romeran her full attention when he spoke.

"I am sorry to hear of your loss," she said gently, not a stranger to losing loved people, or unknown when beyond any of her skills to prevent such loss. She did not say anything else for a while, simply listening to him and watching his face, his movements.

"Lossarnach! I wonder if my parents would know your family," a small smile played in the corners of her lips when she stood. "Let me take a look at your axe." She intended to check for how well it was kept, if there were any dents, and whether it was sharp: it would tell her where he stood in the matter of taking care of his things.

Looking up at Romeran, she smiled more heartily, and aimed a few words to encourage him: "I never said I expected you to be a perfectly trained Ranger who would be able to tackle all the evil at once, did I? You seem teachable and ready to commit, and that is what counts; everything else can be learned in the process. So... you would intend to keep axe as your primary weapon and learn to use it for more than just wood chopping, right?"
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@Pele Alarion

A smile came across his now rather tense face as Pele mentioned possibly knowing his family. Lossarnach was a relatively large fief -- inflated by refugees during the war -- but it was still small, especially compared to Minas Tirith, Romeran made a mental not to ask about this again some time. He reached for his axe and hefted it from the loop at his belt and handed it to Pele.

The axe* was small enough to be used in one hand (around two-feet in total length). It was of a hybrid-style, neither the hefty near-hammer like nature of a wood splitting 'maul' axe, nor the long-shafted, thin-bladed style of a proper battle-axe. The blade was highly bearded, a style developed to save iron in manufacture while preserving a useful cutting edge and lightening the axe head, making it a useful weapon as well as woodworking tool. The axe blade was sharp, sharper than any wood-splitting axe needed to be. The head of the axe was highly scratched from use and had clearly been sharpened many times. The handle was not the original one, which likely wore away from use, but it still showed great wear especially at hand grip locations which were worn to a smooth finish.

Romeran felt relief as Pele clarified that he wasn't, in fact, expected to be a fully competent ranger, and that he would have the opportunity to learn. He nodded to her "Aye, I've never held a sword or spear before," he said "not that I'm against learning" he added quickly "but I think the axe and bow suit me well enough." He certainly looked like a suitable candidate for an axe fighter for he was built like a dwarf but at a man's height. "I am ready and eager to serve" he said, bowing his head slightly.

*https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0226/ ... 1575594677

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