Lost and Found - A Cavalry RP

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Allacan, human, she/her, equipped with a horse with only a halter/lead, a cooking pot, a water skin, a dagger, marshmallows and graham crackers, but no chocolate.

It had been a mistake to head towards the city. The sun was already far past its noon-hour peak when crested a hill and ran upon a patrol, clearly riding a perimeter and tasked with turning back any cavalry riders who ventured towards Edoras. As the riders turned their horses towards her in an intercept course, she waited, but the look of frustration at the impending interaction changed to one of glee as she recognised the commander in the lead of this little troop of riders.

"Aethelwigend Grimthain!" she said, happily, glancing down at the insignia badge that clasped his cloak and spotting with satisfaction that it now sported the green colour of Meduseld, rather than the red of the Westmark Eored. The man waved his soldiers to stand down before even reaching her. He dismounted and passed his reins to one of the Sperewigends under his command, saying a few quiet words to the group who relaxed and eagerly took the offered opportunity to dismount and stretch their legs, allowing their horses a few mouthfuls of grass also.

Grimthain approached Allacan where she waited a little way from the rest of the troop, gripping her arm just below the elbow in a comradely manner, and she returned the warrior handshake with equal enthusiasm.

"Hail, Dryhtguma Allacan. Yes, as you can see, the Marshals requested my transfer, despite the fact that I had not yet requested the same. I heard rumour through the ranks that it had something to do with a recommendation from a certain High Councillor...?" he queried with a sternly raised eyebrow. Allacan feigned a sheepish look, and his face warmed a little with a smile.

"In truth, I thank you." he continued "Were it not for you pushing it before the Marshal's noses I am not sure how I would have found the way to raise the issue with them without tipping my hand regarding the... er... well, you know what." he said in a quiet whisper. He then seemed to recall the pair of soldiers waiting only a little ways off, and spoke in a more commanding tone that they would hear. "Sorry, ma'am. You can't head back to Edoras. You need to find the camp. I've been given my orders, nobody involved in the exercise is to be allowed past."

She nodded in disappointment, and was about to release the grip on his arm, when she realised Grimthain was still gripping it, distracted with something over shoulder. Her face erupted into a smug grin. "Beautiful, isn't she? I can't fathom how or why she came to be entrusted to my care, but I am not one to question a blessing. My only concern is that she has been out in this sun since morn, without any water, and if we must turn back now I fear I will have to entrust her to your care, because I know that I am at least a number of hours' walk from the Snowbourne River and I dare not risk her health out in the exposure of the sun without at least some refreshment."

Grimthain, remembering himself, released her hands. But he was frowning, seemingly unhappy at the choice he was presented of either leaving Allacan's mount in the open plains without water, or relieving her of the assistance it was supposed to offer her on this exercise.

He eyed Allacan also, noting that she too was looking dry-lipped but had spoken nothing of her own thirst or discomfort. He was a stern man, and would follow his orders, but he also understood that Allacan was only concerned for the welfare of her horse - for herself - and would rather lose the advantage having a mount might provide her over allowing the animal to suffer. He glanced over at where his soldiers were distracted, quietly talking among themselves and his face set with resolve. He swiftly removed the laden water-skin from his belt and, taking pity on Allacan, shoved it into her hands. "Here, take this and don't say anything" he whispered. Allacan 's eyes widened a moment, then her face broke into a mischievous grin. "I guess this makes us even." she said, and he nodded with a smile.

She turned back to her horse and the open plains of Rohan as he returned to his troop, commanding them to mount up and move off. As they rode off with a thundering of hooves, Grimthain glanced back over his shoulder and saw Allacan standing rigid, respectfully saluting him as he rode on, before turning back towards the open planes. The Aethelwigend had at least confirmed for her that the distant city was indeed the capital, and so she orientated herself using the sun, and set off on the quickest route she could calculate, aiming straight for where she knew the Snowbourne river would be.

---

It was a few hours later, walking through much higher, thicker grasses, that the monotony of the plains was finally broken. She has been sparse with the water, offering more to the horse than to herself, and had instead sucked on a stone to try and stave off thirst. She had been grateful to find a small pool of water in a particularly deep gap between hills and had encouraged her new equine friend to drink deeply of all that was there, which the mare had. She herself had emptied the water-skin down her throat before re-filling it from the stagnant pool. When she had sipped from the dirty water later through the day, drying her mouth as she had a few of the biscuits to sustain her, it was bitter and grainy to the taste, but she would not disdain any liquid that would stave off dehydration.

She had also allowed herself a couple of the biscuits - not many, she would need to ration them until she found a more steady supply of food, which should not be too difficult once she reached the riverside. She could have mounted the horse and ridden; she would have crossed greater distance that way, but she was reluctant to risk exhausting or overheating the horse until she had a steady supply of water or at the very least some shade. She was also still wary of losing control of the otherwise very agreeable beast by butchering her stirrup-less mount or rusty bareback riding skills.

The first thing that caught her eye between the endless waving grasses was a shadow between hills that did not move with the wind. She halted, and the horse behind her halted also, mimicking her moves companionably. She watched the shadow in the failing light until she realised that yes, this was definitely a person (Éolath). As he stood from his seated position, she trailed them a short distance, the sound of both her footsteps and the horse's muffled by the sound of the wind through the glass, until at last got a good look at the young lad, someone who seemed vaguely familiar, and who was - from his bearing and present state of supplies - probably one of the cavalry recruits also out on this exercise.

After a day in the hot fields with only a horse for company, Allacan was keen for something to break the boring monotony. A mischievous idea formed in her mind. She dropped below the grasses, out of eye-line, pulling the horse down beside her. And waited.

A short while later, she could hear the movement of the young man nearby, even as she was still struggling to encourage the horse to stay put. Each time she had tried to crawl away in an effort to sneak up on the young man - in good jest of course - the horse had crawled after her, no matter how much she had tried to quietly command it to wait. She found herself dearly missing her old horse Beaducyrm in that moment; he had remembered well the few vocal and visual commands she had taught him, and 'Wait here' had been one of his favourites. This horse, however, was either too stupid or too companionable to want to be separated from Allacan, which was proving to be problematic for her mischievous plans.

"Just stay still." she hissed in frustration, only for the horse to whicker loudly at her in response. She froze, wondering if the young man had heard the noise, but not wanting to peek over the top of the grass in case she gave away her location but then temptation overcame her. She tried to get high enough to peer through just the upmost parts of the grass without giving away her position, and the horse took that as the signal they were done with their rolling around in the grass, and stood up!

Allacan bit back the temptation to swear, and crouched back down. The horse seemed to be watching something, and the way it eyed the distance and manner in which it sniffed at the air suggested it was the lad. Fair enough, Allacan could still surprise him by leaping out from underfoot as he drew level with the horse; it wouldn't quite be as frightening a jump as she had hoped, but it would be something. She started to edge forward, still crouched, in a very low walk so that he would not spot her.

And the horse... mimicked her again. At least, it tried. It lowered itself down as much as it could while still standing, legs splayed out to either side, and attempted to shuffle forwards through the grass. Only the top of its head was visible to the young lad as it did so, leading to a somewhat absurd appearance. Allacan was initially unaware that her stealthy approach was being ruined by the enthusiastic and ridiculous imitations of her equine companion, but then she glanced back and spotted it. She dropped onto her bottom in surprise, and the horse decided that this was clearly the cue to duck back beneath the grass, and dropped down onto its rump also, ducking its head beneath the grass.

She heard the exclamation of the boy, and her frustration disappeared as she finally realised how odd this must all look to the young cavalry rider. She clapped one of her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle, and lifted the other out flat towards the horse. The horse watched it. She lifted the hand up, and the horse lifted its head above the grass. She dropped it back down, and the horse dropped beneath the cover again.

Allacan could barely contain her mirth now, and with one hand still clamped over her mouth and the other holding at her ribs, she fell over in subdued giggles, tears peeping out from her eyes as she rolled over onto her back, desperately trying to contain her mirth. The horse, still locked into a game of follow the leader, similarly rolled over onto its back, kicking its hooves into the air in imitation of her waggling her legs as she tried so hard not to release the outpouring of laughter she was barely containing.

She tried to pull herself together with a few deep breaths. She rolled back onto all fours, and the horse did likewise. She raised a hand up to wave it away, more in the manner of trying to tell it to stop being so hilarious than anything else, but the horse mistook this for her earlier signals and once again, bobbed its head above the grass to peer for a moment and the young man, before dropping below the grass-line again.

This time Allacan wrapped both her arms over her face and screwed her eyes closed as her whole body was wracked with subdued laughter, rolling once again onto her side which once again initiated the horse rolling onto its back and kicking its hooves into the air. It took every ounce of her willpower to let no more than a few high-pitched squeaks out between her muffling arms even as tears streamed down her face. She could hear the young man's frightened declarations, and focusing on that she pulled herself together a little. She crawled onto her belly, and started commando crawling towards the boy, trying to drive from her mind the knowledge of what the horse must look like only a few feet behind her, for it too had dropped to its knees and was shuffling slowly forwards through the long grass towards the young rider.

She was just reaching the edge of the tree-line, the absurd horse bobbing its head up again and thankfully drawing the young man's eye a moment, which successfully stopped him from spotting Allacan peering at him through the last of the grass. As she witnessed him lay down a bucket reverently and back away as though it was some offering to the horse, she finally lost all her composure.

She tumbled out of the grasses down towards Éolath, laughing uproariously, clutching at her ribs as tears streamed down her face. The horse rolled around in the dust a little and neighed loudly, attempting to mimic her outburst, which only fuelled her hysterical laughter. She managed only to compose herself long enough to meet eyes with the astounded Éolath and squeak out "I couldn't stop it copying me. Surprise!" before once again creasing up into giggles.

(Many thanks to @Éolath for kindly godmoding my plans while I was unable to post; you made this so much more wonderful than I could ever have imagined on my own).

[Éolath]

Éolath, now startled half to death by Allacan
with a holey bucket and a pair of gloves

Éo stared as the horse-demon disappeared again, then popped up at the edge of the tall prairie grass. He shuddered and stumbled back a few steps, leaving the bucket well between him and the apparition. He kept his focus firmly on the horse, which seemed to still for a moment. It looked astonishingly corporeal, covered in dust and grass stems. He took a half step forward, staring at the beautiful golden head.

And a body tumbled out at his feet.

Shrieking, he threw up his arms and tried to jump backward. A tussock of grass caught his foot, and he found himself falling over on his back. Not that he minded, it was away from the demon and its prey, and he scrabbled back like a crab as the body … giggled.

He goggled. Had to remind himself to close his mouth as he sat up hesitantly. “S-surprise?” he stuttered, passing his hand in front of his eyes. And still the laughter continued, followed by a braying neigh that seemed to mimic the raucous sounds coming from the rolling figure.

Éo rubbed his face again, catching his breath slowly as his hands stopped trembling. Adrenaline still coursed through him, he thought his heart would simply pound out of his chest. But after a moment, he got a good look at the face of his ambusher. Was that…surely not. A respected cavalry rider, a legend, now rolling about in the dust holding her sides and laughter echoing around them. Maybe the stories of his cousin’s madness wasn’t all tales, maybe it was hereditary. On both sides.

“Sir…?” He stood slowly, cautiously approached while keeping a wary eye on the horse. “It is you, Allacan, right?” He hadn’t spoken to her since that dim night in the pub, though he had seen her at a distance. He’d wanted to, but the chance hadn’t appeared. He’d wanted to learn more of his family, though at the moment he wasn’t exactly sure claiming insanity was a good idea. “Are, uhm, you … alright?”

His own giggle surprised him, and he crouched down beside her. “You…that horse…I thought…” her hilarity triggered his own laughter, and he was soon sitting beside her, tears streaming from his eyes as he fought for breath.

[Eldrith]

Aelflad and Eldrith

Mmmm... *She WAS grateful for the dagger. Steel, flint, something to make holes and skin the conies.* At least we will eat well tonight. Well... there are three possibilities: he was lying because he was told to. He was lying because it's amusing to deal with a couple of rookies like us, or he was telling the truth and doing what he was ordered. I don't think it's the second. Not the type of men that usually join the cavalry... So either we were going out of bound and were too close to getting back into a settlement and having us a pint AND.. supplies.. or we were going too far out of the way. I'd say we go with his suggestion and keep our eyes open for surprises.

*Following Aelflad's advice they made their way back towards the hollow to set up a simple camp. She started expertly to skin the connies letting her comrade create the campfire.*
THis might be the smartest thing yet.. If I know anything.. an army marches on it's stomach. Within half an hour of the meat roasting, we may get company of some of the other teams!

[Taethowen]

Taethowen & Walpurga - Settling in for the Night, In the Middle of Nowhere
Reconfigured supplies: A canoe paddle. A dead turkey. Bag of apples (minus a few). A heavy cloak missing a bit at the hem. A small knife. A piece of flint.

Taethowen was not good at casual conversation. She was also becoming easily frustrated with the lack of true clues as to the direction they should be going to find the main camp, and frustration made her less talkative as a matter of habit. She also kept constantly being thrown by uncanny resemblance Walpurga held to her lover. He'd mentioned visiting Rohan in the somewhat distant past, but she had no idea how long ago that had actually been and... surely... surely not. But still, every time Taeth caught sight of those vivid blue eyes paired with black hair... the conundrum was thoroughly distracting.

She did her best to point out some basics as they walked, though. Different types of plants and their purposes, animal tracks, and the frustrating lack of signs of human presence. Or at least recent human presence.

The afternoon took a brighter turn, though, when she heard Walpurga laugh and then call out her name. Taeth turned back to see Walpurga holding up a knife and flint, and she broke out into a wide grin, and answered with a laugh, "Well, it seems as though you and I are having turkey tonight. Have you ever gutted a turkey?"

Walpurga paled, and Taeth tried to give a reassuring smile. "It's all right if you haven't. I can teach you."

Taeth held out her hand for the knife, and Walpurga settled the hilt in her palm. "First things first, we need to pluck the bird. I'll work on that since it's time consuming while you use the flint to start a fire."

Plucking the turkey was tedious, since it had been dead for several hours now, and she hadn't been able to scald it to loosen the feathers. It gave her the opportunity to watch Walpurga, though, observing as the younger woman cleared the space for the fire and started it going. There was precious little wood in the open field, but some brambles and bushes among the tall grasses had offered up enough to at least cook dinner.

Taeth had nearly finished plucking the turkey--she'd been setting aside the best feathers to save for arrow fletchings along the way, as well--when Walpurga spoke up. "Can... can I ask you something?"

Taeth smiled and nodded, pulling the last of the feathers from the turkey's carcass, then setting it on the blade of the canoe paddle, since she didn't have a platter or roasting pan.

"Why did you join the Cavalry?" Walpurga blurted out, and then quickly followed it up with several more questions. "Was it to become a pæth? How long did it take you... to get where you are? Are you happy in the Cavalry?

"How long did it take you to learn those skills? Have you ever been outside of the Riddermark? Have you ever had to kill someone?"

"Will you help me with the turkey again?" Taeth asked. "I will gladly answer all of your questions, but I need a few minutes to gather my thoughts."

Walpurga came over to her, and Taeth directed her to help hold the turkey up by its legs as she neatly sliced through its neck to remove the head. The blood in the carcass had mostly congealed by now, but at least since they'd carried it upside down the whole afternoon, the blood had pooled in the head and neck. Whatever blood would drain out wouldn't take long.

"I joined the Cavalry to get away from some... bad situations, at home," Taeth answered. "I was... perhaps a little younger than you are now, and eager to find my own place in the world. My father had died when I was very young, but he'd left me all the family property. The man my mother married later thought he'd gain control of that land by marrying her, and when he discovered otherwise, he made it his life's mission to make mine miserable."

Taeth looked down at the turkey they held up between them. "I think we can set it back down now," she said. "All the blood that will drain has done so." Taeth directed Walpurga to lay the carcass on its belly. "First, we removed the oil gland at the base of the tail. Otherwise, the meat will be bitter when we cook it." Taeth pointed it out and then carefully sliced it off with the knife, and then she flipped the bird back over. "Then we remove the innards. We'll cut around the vent* and pull all the guts out."

Taeth made quick work of the task as she continued to answer Walpurga's questions. "The thought of being a pæthfindian had never crossed my mind before joining the Cavalry. That was more a matter of figuring out that I had an eye for detail and a talent for sneaking up on people. But I'll answer some of your questions out of order: as for the skills, it took practice, but if you've grown up on a farm and know how to read the land, plan your path by landmarks and compass points, and know your plants already, that helps.

"It took me a few years to make it from Sperewigend to Ærest Pæthfindian. And at least another year after that--which truly was a very short time--to be named Third Marshal." Walpurga's eyes widened there, and Taeth held up a bloodied hand to quiet her. "I am not Third Marshal now, nor even Ærest Pæth, but that is a long, personal story that is not your concern right now."

Taeth paused for a moment to gather up the turkey's innards, setting aside the liver, gizzard, and heart, and walk them some distance from their campsite to discard. It wouldn't do to have them attracting flies where they wanted to sleep.

Walpurga was feeding the fire when she returned. Taeth lifted the knife again, and began to divide the turkey into chunks. It would cook far faster than trying to roast it whole. Daylight was fading quickly, and she wanted to get the butchering done before she had to work only by firelight.

"Am I happy in the Cavalry?" Taeth finally spoke again, having pondered that particular question for a time now. "I was happy in the Cavalry, in the past. And I love the Cavalry, and the friends I've made because of it. Most importantly, I love Rohan, and wish to see it safe. But I will not make the mistake again of living solely for the Cavalry.

"Have I killed someone? The fact that I have fought in battle and lived through it should be answer enough. Now, tell me if there are some decent coals in the fire yet," she said. "It's going to be quite late before this meat is cooked."

When Walpurga answered in the affirmative, Taeth smiled, then carefully carried the cut-up pieces over and began nestling them in the coals around the edge of the fire.

"And yes, I have traveled outside the Mark. I was with the Cavalry in Gondor several years back, when Gondor called for aid again after the War of the Ring. You probably would have been a small child at the time. And since then, I've traveled many places in Middle-earth, from Umbar to Erebor, and even competed in an archery tournament in Imladris."

Taeth couldn't help the hint of a wistful smile that teased at her lips. She'd made so many memories, though Umbar was what lingered in her mind the most, since she was still eagerly awaiting what the conclusion to that chapter of her life might be. It brought her thoughts back to Walpurga, though, with how much she looked like Frost. "What of you, Walpurga? Why have you joined the Cavalry?"

With that, Taeth settled the last piece of turkey into the coals. "Is there enough water for me to rinse my hands? Or do we still have a damp cloth?"

*cloaca

(OOC @Shivased - our last prompt just said we needed to probably set up camp for the night, so that's what we've done.)

[Aethelu]

Dicun, with Elarith, their day now getting weirder

As they remained hidden in the long grass, Dicun tried hard to listen out for the sound once more. But there was nothing but the breeze. A trick of the wind it seemed, or a trick of anxious brains confronted with orcs they couldn't defend themselves from. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Carefully they began to retreat back towards the forest. Dicun stayed low for as long as he could, which was not the easiest task as he dragged the saddle along with him. Eventually he judged they would be far enough away, straightening up with a groan. He was supposed to be a young and fit but being hunched over with the weight of the saddle was enough to give anyone a bad back. He stretched out a little before lifting the saddle back onto his shoulder.

Dicun watched as Elarith took a few swats at the grass with the sword. She seemed frustrated, but he wasn't sure what he could say that might alleviate that. He couldn't deny that it was unfortunate to have made it so close to the river only to have to turn back. Now they were almost back where they started and most of the day was done. When Elarith tensed, hand on sword, he snapped out of his thoughts to look at what she saw. "Not orcs," he replied, squinting against the sun. "Not unless they stolen a horse and cart." Soon an old man with an equally old looking horse, pulled up next to them. The poor horse didn't look too happy about having to pull the man and cart around, but when he mentioned a camp, he found the horse was a less of a concern.

Down by the river he said, which made Dicun groan. Of course, of course it would be near the river when there were orcs in the way. When the old man pointed in the opposite direction to the orcs though he felt a bit more relief. It was the opposite way to the forest though and with the sun setting he wasn't sure he fancied trying to carry on across open ground in the dark. The sudden appearance of a battered old bridle caught him off guard. While Elarith picked it up, Dicun was ready to ask the old man exactly how do you find a horse with just an old bridle, but he was already on his way. In fact, now the horse seemed to be moving a remarkable pace for one so old.

"I hope he was right," he replied as she asked him about the trustworthiness of their fleeting companion. "We don't have much else to go on right now." The breeze suddenly felt chillier, the sun was setting faster than he had realised. "I agree, forest seems like a better idea that the open plain. Let's keep going that way for now."

[Shivased]

Shivased grumbled to herself as she inched along, struggling to make her way in the dark. The ground beneath her feet was uneven and the amount of loose rocks and debris -she really had no clue if they were rocks or something else - was getting to the point she could barely walk. She continued to shuffle on though, moving at the fastest pace she could while mumbling to herself about her stupid decision to follow this path into the cave.

She breathed a brief sigh of relief when the ground started to clear a bit and she could pick up her pace. It seemed the cave was playing with her though, and her relief was short lived. On her next step her foot caught on a larger rock and she tipped forward with a yell as the joint twisted painfully. She briefly scrabbled at the wall with one hand and tried to dig in with the spear in the other but her forward momentum had already begun and she went over fully. The expected fall to the ground didn't happen, though. It appeared she was at the top of an incline so instead of hitting the ground and lying there, she hit the ground and started rolling, bouncing off the debris as she went. The spear went flying out of her hand, and her bag wrapped awkwardly around her right arm, trapping it at her side.

It felt like an eternity before Shivased managed to stop herself, or rather came to a stop, at what felt like the bottom of the incline. She laid there for a minute catching her breath and getting over the shock of her tumble, staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly. It was a few minutes before she realized she was staring at the ceiling of the cave, could in fact SEE the ceiling of the cave.

Abruptly sitting upright she groaned as the quick movement told her she hadn't escaped the tumble unscathed, but stayed upright and looked around. It was still dim, but she could see! The end of the cave was near! She was buoyed by the thought and struggled to her feet while looking around for her supplies. A sharp pain from her right ankle had her grabbing the wall to prevent herself falling again. She paused then to take stock of herself and noticed that her arm was still tangled in the bag. That she quickly undid and then internally studied the rest of herself, testing limbs and moving to test for injuries. Legs were fine since she was standing....well...one leg was fine. A test of the other ankle and she knew that she wasn't going far if she didn't bandage it. She'd be lucky if it wasn't broken.

It seemed, to her luck, she had escaped the fall mostly fine. Sore and bruised, and limping, but otherwise fine. That she could work with. Next was her supplies. The bag was still there and a quick peek showed the supplies were intact, which was a bit of a surprise given one item was a pot of honey. She looked around and spotted the spear a few feet away. Perfect she said aloud and limped over to get it. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck without a weapon.

The trip out of the cave was slow and painful, but at least the further she went the easier it got to see where she was going, so she was able to avoid the rocks - she could see now they were rocks - all over the ground. She used the spear as a crutch and breathed a sigh of relief when she got to the cave entrance where she flopped down onto a grassy patch of ground and groaned. It felt good to be out in the open air again. Looking down at her ankle she tested it gingerly, hissing at the pain. It needed to be tended but she could feel that it had swelled up and she didn't really want to take the boot off. If she did, she knew from past experience she wasn't getting it back on again, and she needed to have both boots on if she was going to find the camp. Glancing at the healing kit then at her ankle, she decided her boot was the best support possible and left it as it was. As for the scrapes and bruises, well, there wasn't much she could do. She had no water and no way of cleaning the scrapes, so putting honey on them or bandaging would be useless. She would just have to leave everything open to the air and tend it when she found camp.

That done she studied the terrain around her. The sun was beginning to set but she could still see enough to get a good feel of where she was, and her guess that she had been dropped near the Great River solidified in her mind. The small mountain was at her back, and the wide open plain ahead of her. Given it was dark she should probably make camp, but she had gone all day without water and, although she had been in the dark and out of the sun, she was still extremely thirsty and in danger of dehydration. She needed water. If she was where she thought, the Entwade would be in a straight line to the west. That was it then. She'd be walking through the night and hopefully would make water in a couple hours.

Heaving herself to her feet she started forward, picking her way through the boulders and rocks to the open plain, and hopefully water.

[Shivased]

THIRD UPDATE

Gwai and Rowena
Your night passes quietly, though the midges get so overwhelming that you don't get much, if any sleep, and wake in the morning covered in bites. The morning dawns hot and humid and the midges seem to triple in number. The river still moves lazily through the reeds next to you. As you go to check on the boat you notice something on the bank that you hadn't noticed in the fading light. A sword! It is in rough shape and has obviously been sitting there for a long time, but it is still serviceable and might prove useful later! Now comes the choice - do you try the river again, or struggle down the bank?
You found a sword!

Amadhrill and Eomund (Dim)
While one of you takes care of the solider the other heads down the way the soldier came for help. You crest a rise and see the river ahead of you along with a horse and a dead badger. This is clearly the soldier's horse, and a bit of luck for you! A clear path tramped down in the grass shows where the soldier was coming from, so you at least can tell the direction he was travelling and which way camp lies. Gathering the horse and a quick check of the saddle bags shows a small healing kit containing bandages, some sort of salve (you can decide what) and honey. The other saddle bag contains dried meat and a change of clothes. At least you can tend the man and get him to camp!
You found a horse, healing supplies and food!

Dicun (Aethelu) and Elarith
You head back to the forest to make camp for the night. It starts out being a good place for camp, and you even find a spot with a small stream of fresh water and blackberries growing along the bank! Once darkness falls, though, your great camping spot changes. You start hearing groaning and creaking, and hints of large things moving in the shadows out of your sight. The feeling of the forest changes and becomes ominous and dark, and makes sleeping or resting difficult. Add to it that, sometime during the night, you end up with a caterpillar nest falling from the trees above you and leaving you covered in the crawly, squiggly creatures! By the time the sun rises, you have spent quite the night. Do you head towards where the old man said the camp was, or another way?

Shivased
Your walk through the night is uneventful but tiring, and by morning you are feeling the effects of your walk. You do manage to run across a small stream so dehydration isn't such a worry. As the sun rises overhead it beats down on you, making your walk even harder. To top off what must be a miserable time, the ground suddenly gives way under you and you tumble down a small hill into a ditch that had been hidden by the grass. The bottom is mud, probably left from the last rainfall. It looks easy enough to get back out, though it does go north-east so you could follow it and see where it goes. On top of your tumble earlier it seems this exercise is just adding insult to injury.

Allacan and Eólath
Despite your...unusual...introduction, you have now found each other. It might be a good thing, might be a bad, but at least now you can pool supplies, such as they are. You turn out to be closer to the Snowbourn than you think, finding the river before night fully falls. You at least now have water and a good place to make camp! Come morning the sun rises hot and promising another sweltering day. But it is a new day, with a new chance of finding the camp. You also get a surprise. Where the horse was for the night, you now find TWO horses! Somehow, your horse found a friend during the night! That, along with the Aethelwigend's clue about where you are, means you have a much better chance of finding camp before the end of the day!
You have found a horse!

Thalionwen
The orcs have moved off, not caring in the least that you didn't acknowledge their 'gift' of boots. You are left sitting in the middle of the plains alone again, to make camp or continue moving. By morning things are hopefully looking up, because standing near you is a horse wearing a bridle. It is definitely a farm horse and probably got loose from somewhere, but you have a horse! This will make things a LOT easier!
You found a horse!

Taethowen and Walpurga (Frost)
The supplies you found gave you the opportunity for a good dinner and a chance for a good night. The night does go quietly, but in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun starts to rise, you are woken to scraping and shuffling. Your fire has died down through the night and the freshly cooked turkey has attracted some unwanted guests. You find yourself facing off with three wolves, who are clearly hungry for turkey. The largest growls in warning and lunges at you! Looks like you start your day with a fight before you can move on! (Obviously RP the fight, then feel free to move on in your attempt to find camp)

Aelflaed (Fairy) and Eldrith
You choose a good spot to camp for the night, and your time in your camp goes well. The coneys turn out to be a good thing to have and provide a great meal. Chances are you spend a much more enjoyable night than anyone else is. Come morning it is quickly obvious it will be another hot one, so best get going before the sun is too high. You don't get that far before a loud growling breaks the silence and a badger jumps out of the grass! It growls threateningly at you and attacks, all snarling teeth and smelly fur hurtling straight at you! (RP the fight, then feel free to move on in your attempt to find camp.)

GOOD JOB SO FAR EVERYONE! Some of you are close to camp. Some of you are.....well, it's the attempt that counts

[Fairy Nuff]

Aelflaed with Eldrith, leaving camp, fighting a badger

Aelflaed spent a relatively comfortable night tucked out of the wind in a little hollow not far from the river bank, with the sound of rushing water to soothe her to sleep, the warmth of the campfire to keep out the chill and a full belly from Eldrith's expertly prepared coneys, which they had cooked on a spit over the fire in a most genial evening. She very much doubted that other training exercises would work out like this, so made the most of it.

Aelflaed was happy to continue carrying the shield again the next morning as she had grown used to the weight, and now that they no longer had the coneys, she suggested that Eldrith take the dagger. "We may have gone the wrong way at first" she commented "but at least we can make holes in things now" she grinned, sticking her tongue out in cheekiness as she mimicked the words Eldrith had used the night before. It was clear there was much walking ahead of them - all the distance they had already travelled down river, then onwards past their start point, so Aelflaed was determined to be in good spirits.

Good spirits only lasted as long as the first half hour out of their makeshift camp, when suddenly she heard a growling. What was it!? Orcs? Wolves? No. A badger leapt out at them, and made to attack. Quickly she brought the shield up between the badger and herself, and yelled to Eldrith to keep close to her - they would have to share the shield, as there was only one between them, but now they had the dagger at least they could counter attack.

Again the badger lunged for them, and she raised the shield and kicked out, foot connecting with solid flesh. "Geez, these things are all muscle aren't they" she muttered to Eldrith as the badger took a run up for a third attack. "Maybe you can get your dagger in when it rises up to strike, if I lift the shield out of the way at the same time?" she suggested, and counted down 3...2...1 to when she would lift the shield. She let Eldrith get to work with the dagger, trying to provide cover whenever the badger retaliated, until finally the creature succumbed to its wounds.

Aelflaed wiped a hand across her brow and let the shield sink to the floor, her arms shaking with the effort of holding it and lifting it over and over. "The badger must have been rabid, I've never seen one attack like that before. Good job with that dagger!" she said, as she knelt on the river bank and washed her hands and face in the cool water. "I don't think we should hang around too long, badgers den in groups, there could be others" she said, still alert for any sound of a growl.

Giving Eldrith time to also wash if she wanted and sort things out, Aelflaed hefted up the shield as soon as they were both ready, and continued the long walk up river. She lost track of time and perhaps hours passed, but after a while the view of the mountains seemed very familiar. "Wait...do you think we're back at the place we started?" she asked Eldrith, pointing at a particular cleft in the mountains that looked like the ones they had stood in front of the day before. "If so, we've made good time indeed, as there is still plenty of light left, the sun is not long past zenith!" she said jubilantly - if they continued on the right path, maybe they would make camp by night fall!


(OOC @Eldrith I hope that's ok, and I've left enough scope for you to RP your own parts of the battle. If we had more time we could have done a bit of back and forth but I want to keep us moving if we can :) )

[Eldrith]

I am good at making holes in stuff.. *she said dryly. The evening and night had been remarkably uneventful with alternating watches so they each got enough sleep. She's carefully field stripped, then roasted the coneys, wishing she'd had salt for the pelt. At least remaining near the river and the dagger had allowed her to scrape it clean of any remaining blood, so they now had the pelts and some of the bones that she'd kept for.. reasons.

The badger.. was a nasty surprise. Cute, white, stripey.. gnaw your face off badgers. Somehow the camaraderie of the walk had made them a much easier team. Aelflaed took the lead, holding off the badger, but then she expected her to kill the beast. It was on her lips to mutter "I do not wield steel" but it was close enough to what she did in the kitchen for her to make the attempt. The problem was size which forced her to crouch down, putting her at disadvantage to the badgers powerful legs.. as it leaped.. rushed.. closed in.. she managed to lift her hand and stab down harshly right behind the neck,catching a blood vessel at the very least by the sight of blood coloring the fur. AND her. Unfortunately it was not enough for a one stroke kill*
HIT it! HIT it!! Slam that shield on it! *She screamed and the cover provided by some powerful whacks of the heavy shield, along with some more wrestling and ultimately blood loss had them victorious over.. a badger.

She rose and glared at the dead beast, then smiled at Aelfled.* Good job with the shield. I couldn't have handled it by myself. I've refused to serve these things in the pub but I may just change my mind after this. And I'll think of this one every single time I fry some.

8They should move, you were definitely right in that, which meant she took time to wash her hands and her face and whatever she could reach of her neck.. and unfortunately did NOT have time to deal with blood soaked clothes. So they marched on along the river, with hopefully at least the time to wash up a little bit further if they did indeed reach camp.


I think.. that is indeed our starting point. Bema be praised.. and let us keep going! *it was said on a chuckle, and the afterthought that the quicker they found camp, the quicker they would be done. And the quicker they would be done, she would buy you a pint and a good meal at the pub.*

Now.. follow the river but upwards. And with any luck there are no more nasty surprises awaiting us. *Their tempo was high. The night sleep and the food had refreshed them, and the adrenaline of the badger fight had given them a boost of speed. The march pace was high and the spirits mostly so, though the idea that she reeked of blood was not particularly appealing.

[Shivased]

NOTE TO ALL: In response to requests to extend the time between prompts, and because you guys are writing AMAZING stories and 2 days just isn't enough time to get in all people want to, I am extending the time between updates to 4 DAYS.

As a result, the next update will be on FRIDAY

[Éolath]

Éolath with Allacan
with a holey bucket and a pair of gloves

It took a while for both riders to catch their breaths, and longer for Éolath to relax around Allacan, but eventually, they both dusted themselves off and started moving. Éo was grateful to have found (or been found) by his kinswoman, for she knew precisely where they were and assuaged his worry of finding water before nightfall. He hated being lost, but he’d not yet learned to read a map nor did he know the area as well as he would have liked.

They tromped along, bantering ideas back and forth of how best to use their limited supply. A rather serious discussion of riding the horse came up, but neither was particularly comfortable without a saddle. “We could, uhm, braid grass together,” Éo finally said hesitantly, “and make a rope for a girth. I can make a pretty decent rope, and braid in some loops that would at least give us something to hold on with.”

With nothing better to do while they walked, he started braiding the long grasses. It was more difficult to do as they walked, but neither wanted to stop until they reached the river. And the horse, ever loyal to Allacan, followed cheerfully in the woman’s footsteps. They reached the Snowbourn just as the sun glinted its last rays over the plains, and Éolath didn’t try to hide his relief. Setting up camp was easy. Allacan managed to start a fire – he wasn’t sure how, but fully intended to ask her – while he rinsed out her waterskin and refilled it and watered the horse. Out of habit, he groomed the horse with a handful of hay, and led it to a low hollow where the grass grew thick and green.

At the chosen campsite, he scraped two hollows in the ground then filled them with armfuls of dried grass. It could get cold at night, even in the high summer. He wanted to bathe, and stared considering at his companion for a while. Maybe later, he decided, and taking a flat rock began to grind the grass seeds he’d harvested earlier that day. They were too wet to turn to flour, but they mashed nicely and with a bit of water, formed into a nice bannock. “I picked some colt’s foot, down by the river”, he said quietly, holding a few leaves over the fire to burn then sprinkling the ash on the bannocks before setting them to cook. They’d add a salty flavor to the otherwise boring cakes. “Still probably taste like grass,” he muttered to himself, but as his stomach growled he decided he didn’t care.

As predicted, the meal was edible only because he was hungry, but he choked down his share and then snuck down to the river for a quick bath. Stripping to his brais, he scrubbed with sand and rinsed his shirt clean of the dust and sweat. It would dry overnight draped over the grass. Yawning, he crawled into his nest and was asleep as only the exhausted young could do.

Morning came, and with it the bright and glaring sun returned. He stretched, enjoying the scent of fresh hay and early morning dew. Not a bad way to wake up, he decided. The only thing better would be a full, hot breakfast. They didn’t have much in the way of food, he thought, but he was pretty certain he’d seen some herbs that could be used for tea. And despite the hole in the bucket, he thought he might be able to heat some water if he was careful. He stretched again, then stood. Ignoring his shirt for the moment, he went to check on the horse…horses?

Éo rubbed his eyes. The palomino stood in the small protected hollow, grazing contentedly. And nearby, also grazing happily, stood a sturdy liver chestnut with a white offside stocking. Éo rubbed his eyes again, then started backing up slowly.

“Allacan! Your demon horse spawned!” Laughter and disbelief tinged his voice. He still wasn’t entirely certain the palomino was a normal horse, given its odd antics and doglike behavior. And where had the chestnut come from? They hadn’t seen any farms yesterday, nor any herds. Horses didn’t usually just wander by themselves.

The horse, as though it sensed his thoughts, laid its ears back tight against its head as Éo studied it. It gave a loud squeal and pawed the ground when Éolath took another step back, then turned and fully faced him. If it had been a human, Éo would have called the move a challenge. So he took a step forward. Then another. The horse met him halfway, then abruptly put his head against Éolath’s chest and shoved. With a shout, Éolath fell on his rear, startled to stillness as the horse placed huge feet on either side of his hips. Certain he was about to die, he sighed. And the horse snuffled his hair, snorted into it, then, much to Éo’s horror, tasted it.

“Get off!” his voice cracked. He shoved the soft muzzle away, tried to stand. The horse delicately, and very deliberately, stepped on the loose fabric of his trousers. And snuffled his hair again. “Allacan! Help!”

[Dimcairien Luiniel]

Éomund with Amadhrill, trying to save a random soldier's life
Parchment, apples, potatoes, lanturn, waterskin, dried meat, flint, horse

Ama listened as Éomund shared some of his story and she told him that she too had been in Southern Storm and Northern Wind, as a hælend. Éomund was about to ask if she had known his father when they were interrupted by the injured soldier and he fainted at the sight of the mangled arm.

When he came to a few moments later and asked about the camp, Ama told him rather sternly to not think about the camp at the moment. She handed him a waterskin, that apparently had been on the injured soldier's person, and after taking a long, much needed drink, she told him to search the man's pockets for anything that could be useful. Unfortunately, Éomund couldn't find anything that seemed to be of use for the present situation. He was broken out of his hunt by Ama's urgent request for him to press down on the wound.

Éomund swallowed nervously and took a tentative step forward. She showed him how to press down on the wound and that it would slow the bleeding. Again and again, Ama emphasised that he shouldn't look down at the man, but should look up and see if he could spot help. When he placed his hands over the indicated spot on the man's arm, Éomund grimaced in disgust and almost moved his hands away at once in disgust. But then he wondered if this man had a son. Maybe is he was brave enough to press down on a bloody arm, some little boy, or perhaps a little girl, would grow up with their father around. This newfound resolve gave him just enough courage to not remove his hands. The blood was wet and sticky and Éomund hated the feeling of it on his hands. But, he kept them there. He began to slowly count to try and keep his breathing even, a trick he had learned during his childhood that his mother had told him to use whenever he began to panic. He stayed there, as still as he could and counting while Ama used the sword to cut open the man's sleeve. Upon discovery of the injury, she quickly asked Éomund if he still had the blindfold from earlier. "It's in the apple bag," Éomond answered. Ama went to retrieve it and used it to help stanch the blood.

Having done as much as he could in the present moment, Éomund stood up. "I'm going to see if his horse is nearby. Or perhaps one of hi comrades." It was as much as excuse to be helpful as it was to get away from the bloody site for a few minutes. He was relieved he had made it through the incident without fainting again, but if he stuck around too much longer, he was afraid it would happen yet again. Éomund began to make his way in the direction the soldier had come from. As he neared the top of the hill, Éomund sighed in relief at the site of the river. Water! Beside the river stood a horse and close by lay a dead badger. The sight of the dead creature made hims shudder.

Éomund slowly approached the horse from the front and slightly towards the left, knowing that it might be a bit skittish from whatever had occurred. "Hey there," he said gently. Once he was close enough, he slowly extended his hand and stroked the horses shoulder. It let out a low neigh as he continued to stroke the neck. Once he was certain the horse was calm, he took the lead rope, headed towards the river, and knelt down to wash the blood off his hands. The water felt so cool and clean after the heat of the day and it was a huge relief to get all the blood off his hands. The sticky blood now removed, Éomond once again took ahold of the lead rope and led it back down the animal tracks towards Ama, where she hoped she had been able to judge the extensivity of the injury.

"I didn't see anyone, but I found his horse," Éomund said, "how is he?" While waiting for Ama to answer, he began to look through the two saddle bags. One of the first things he pulled out was a small healer's kit, which contained bandages, a salve, and some honey. "Here!" Éomund said, quickly tossing it to Ama. "There might be something helpful in here." The rest of the items in the saddle bags where helpful, though not in the immediate sense that the healer's kit was. Some dried meat and a change of clothes could perhaps prove useful if they were to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere before too much longer.

"How are we going to get to the camp with him?" asked Éomund, pointing to the injured soldier. "I doubt either of us are strong enough to get him back on his horse, even if he wakes up soon."

@Amadhrill (I'll let you handle the details of the injury. I didn't want to get too involved with godmoding, but I assume you treated it as best you could.)

[Thalionwen Hunigfolm]

Thalionwen
On a HORSE

Thali woke at dawn, drenched in dew and freezing in her nightgown. But at least her feet were warm! Scrambling to her feet, she glanced down at the very large, very smelly, very unattractive boots the bewildered-looking orcs had bequeathed upon her.

"I'll have to remember to send them a thank you note, next time I'm in Mordor," she said to herself, before a quiet nicker nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Whirling, she found a horse behind her. And not just any horse, exactly the sort of horse she liked best. A sturdy little draft beast, handy for doing just about anything on a farm, and even-tempered besides.

"Hello!" Thali said delightedly, holding out a hand to the creature. He came readily and lipped at her palm with his velvet muzzle, clearly hoping for a treat.

"I haven't got carrots or apples or oatcakes," Thali told the horse, "but I have got some bread left. Strange those orcs didn't want it in exchange for the boots. Oh well, their loss is your gain, freond min!"

Reaching into her woven bag, Thali broke off a crust of increasingly stale bread and offered it to her new friend. The horse, an elderly grey gelding, took it readily. He wore a bridle which had obviously been crafted with some care, and a child's hair ribbon was still tied to the throat latch.

"Oh dear," Thalionwen sighed. "You've got loose from some farm, haven't you? Where it seems you've been spending your retirement as a giant, well-loved pet."

Putting her head to one side, Thali thought hard. She was meant to be finding the Cavalry camp--that was her current directive. But the Cavalry's overarching directive was to serve the people of Rohan. And it would hardly serve a family well if she absconded with their pet and rode off on a wild goose chase with him.

Handily mounting the stray horse, Thali tapped her heels to his sides.

"Let's get you home then," she said. "I'm sure you know the way."

The creature ambled amiably westward, heading directly opposite of the way the orcs had indicated might lead to the Cavalry camp.

"Oh well," Thali said, in her soaked nightgown and orc boots, straw-wicker bag still slung over one shoulder and broom-spear resting across her lap. "At least it's sunny! And it's only been one day, so I've got another full day or so before dehydration sets in. Hope you don't live too far off, Horse."

[Elarith]

Elarith and Dicun, having an uncomfortable night

Now the sun was setting it was becoming rather pleasant to walk, but with Dicun in agreement Elarith was keen to get to the forest and make camp. Maybe they would have a better day in the morning. "So, are you having second thoughts about joining the Cavalry? Bet you didn't expect to be hauling a saddle over fields and getting bridles thrown at you," she said to Dicun. He'd certainly had an odd introduction to the military.

They made it into the trees with the sun still in the sky. Their luck held when not far into the woods the sounds of running water came on the breeze. "That's promising," Elarith said cheerily. They soon found a pleasant-looking glade with the stream flowing through it and brambles laden with blackberries. "This'll do for me," she said, dropping the bridle and arrows down, glad to be able to put her burden down. She rolled her shoulders. "I'll find us some firewood if you want to make a start on picking some berries?"

Before long she was back with a bundle of various bits of wood and set them down in a clear spot. She instinctively went for her pocket, and was momentarily puzzled that it was empty of her tinderbox before she remembered being stripped of all her possessions. Elarith groaned and pinched the top of her nose. "Don't suppose you're any good at making a fire without a flint are you?" she asked Dicun. She sighed and put her hand in her other pocket - and rediscovered the bow string. "A ha! Maybe this can help?" She found a stick with a bit of bend to it, and clumsily hacked a couple of notches in each end with the sword. Looping the string round to make a very crude bow, the Rider used it to twist a thin stick back and forth until a small ember caught on a piece of dry moss.

As the last rays of the sun filtered through the canopy, they had a small fire going. Elarith sat close, popping blackberries in her mouth and enjoying their tart taste. “So is there just you and your sister then?” she asked Dicun, between mouthfuls. She was always curious (nosy, some might say) about other people’s lives and circumstances.

[Aethelu]

Dicun and Elarith, at the start of a bad night

The sky had turned the most beautiful shade of orange, bathing the land in a warm glow that soothed Dicun's nerves. He had always loved to watch the sunset, as well as the sunrise. He could often be found on the farm sat up on top of the barn to watch the sun disappear from the horizon. He smiled as he walked towards the forest, all they needed to do was find a nice place to lay down for the night and it would all be fine. "I don't mind it, it's an adventure isn't it?" He replied to Elarith with a grin.

As they entered the forest, it didn't take long to spot something that would be a relief to them both. There was a little stream flowing its way through the forest. Dicun wanted nothing more than to have a drink and wash his face, but he was wary. Surely their luck couldn't be this good after the orcs? Carefully, he laid down the saddle and peered at the water. It looked clean, he couldn't smell anything strange, and nothing about it caused alarm. He turned to Elarith. "I'll taste it, better if only one of us goes down sick I guess." Scooping up the cool water in his hands, he took a sip. It tasted like nothing but clean, fresh water. He waited a moment to see if his stomach began to recoil. Nothing. He grinned at his companion, "I think we might be okay!"

With a nod he happily set about picking blackberries while Elarith went to find firewood. He couldn't resist taking a few for himself as he worked, his stomach had been rumbling terribly. When she returned with the firewood he watched for a moment as she set them down ready to start a fire. Then there was the problem. How do you start a fire when you've got no flint? "Sorry," he shrugged. "Starting fires isn't really one of my skills." Thankfully, Elarith had an idea. Now they had both a crude bow and a basic firestarter.

They sat close together by their little fire, munching away on their blackberries. "My parents are still on the farm, my sister is in Edoras running a shop. What about your family?"

[Amadhrill]

Éomund and Amadhrill

She spoke softly, explaining all the time what she did to distract Éomund. Her eyes went regularly to the trainee, watching him for signs that he should faint again. He did well, kept his focus away from the wound. She used the sword to cut open the sleeve, finding mostly scratches and claw marks in adition to the much larger bite mark that Éomund covered.

She drank deeply from the water skin, reminded that she had not eaten much or drunk throughout the day. The last water she carefully poured over the arm and bite. Ama found the blind folds and tied them firmly around the wound, letting Éomund release his grip. "Do that" she answered to his suggestion. Then she tossed the empty waterskin after him "Fill this when you can too."

She bent down over the injured man again, before quickly calling after the trainee. "Well done, trainee!" She continued looking over the soldier, he was still unconscious which worried her. A badger attack could be a serious thing, even cost someone their life. She searched the soldier's body for other injuries, but she could not find any obvious cause for the lack of consiousness, so for now she would settle on blood loss.

She looked up at the sound of a horse, and smiled a little relieved at Éomund. "Still unconscious. And with what I have there is nothing more to be done at the moment."

A tired smile crept into the hælend's face as Éomund tossed her a small healer's kit. She quickly opened it and removed the two small jars and the bandage. She opened the jars, smelling the sweet honey in one and sniffing the other a few times, taking a tiny taste of it. "Hmm" she said softly to herself. She smiled a little wider as the twillight advanced, it would be night soon, but at least she had more to work with.

"Did you bring the water and the badger?" She asked Éomund as she opened the makeshift bandages around the biggest wound, where the badger had bitten the soldier. The bleeding had stopped, but she made sure to apply much of the honey and the salve containing plantain, marigold, and garlic. She used about half of the two jars to cover the bite, but also the deeper claw marks. Then she carefully wrapped the arm in bandages. "Well done catching the horse, lad!"

She looked carefully at the trainee as he doubted their abiloty to get the soldier unto the horse, trying to judge his strength in the growing darkness. "We will find a way to transport him or something tomorrow. When we have slept, had some water and food, we will come up with something then."

She was feeling the strain of the day taking its toll on her, lack of food and water and an early start and a long walk. The darkness grew deeper as the night advanced, the temperature would soon drop. "Well, Éomund, we have the lantern, and flint and a sword. Perhaps we can manage to get a little light in the lantern. Maybe risk a fire and roast some potatoes? Care to give it a try while I wash off as best as I can? Maybe the parchment we got can help get the fire started?"

Ama handed the sword to Éomund, tossed him the roll of parchment that she had just remembered, and grabbed the waterskin that was now filled up. She used the water sparingly, Éomund and herself were still in danger of dehydration after a day in the sun with no water except from the apples. Then she drank deeply. "Did you drink at the river? You should drink more water, unless you want to become dehydrate, and I really have enough with one patient here." She smiled and put down the waterskin closer to him.

"Okay, so we need to get some rest, but also keep guard and watch over the soldier. The temperature will drop, and our patient has lost a lot of blood too. I propose that we take turn in trying to get some rest while also lying close to the dryht so we can keep him as warm as possible. We'll put the extra tunic over him and ourselves as best as we can." She grabbed a handfull of dried meat and ate it slowly, then she added softly. "I can take the first turn, and then I will wake you when I get too tired"

OOC: @Shivased can you give us a promt as to if the soldier regains consiousness

[The Good Hunter]

Taethowen and Walpurga
Settling in for a definitely pleasant night

“What of you, Walpurga? Why have you joined the Cavalry?"

It was a simple enough question, but there were so many reasons behind her decision to join the Cavalry, some of them even Walpurga didn’t understand fully. She took a drip of her boot water, swished it around in her mouth, frowning a little at the taste. “I think,” she paused and chewed her words. “I’ve always wanted to be in the Cavalry. It’s been a wish of mine as long as I can remember. I come from a small village, barely a blip on the map compared to Edoras. We were attacked by wargs one summer when I was barely ten years old. We would have all been killed and worse… but suddenly like a thunderbolt from the clear sky, a woman rides up on the most majestic horse I’ve ever seen. She kills three of the wargs with arrows before they realize she’s there. She cuts them rest of them down with her sword, like slicing through silk. She saved us all that day, but instead of darting off, she stays the night with us and tells us all her stories. She wasn’t bragging. She was earnest and honest. She told about how difficult life in the Cavalry could be, but how rewarding it could be too. I saw the light in her eyes when she talked about the people she saved, she told us so many stories that night of the people, not of the enemies she killed. I knew then I wanted that too, I knew that that was what the yearning in my heart was. I wanted to count the people I saved, the people I helped, not the enemies I killed.

“I began riding my mother’s old pony, Primrose she called her, the very next day. I learned to ride, I learned to fight. But I was always missing something. I didn’t just want to be a fighter and a warrior. I loved those things, but I didn’t want one single thing to define who I am. I found a book in my mother’s bedroom chest once. I learned to read from that book “The Lives of the Gondorian Kings”. I asked my mom once were she got the book from but she wouldn’t tell me. I figure she got it from,” suddenly she realized she was about to say too much and her face reddened, “I can’t remember what I was about to say. Anyway, the book made me want to visit the White City someday. I want to see what it’s all about. I want to see the world, see what it has to offer and what I have to offer in return. ”

She passed her boot, now about two thirds gone, to Taethowen and realized as she did so, how tired she was and how much her feet ached. Sleep, once it came, was going to be glorious tonight.

[Gwai]

Gwai & Rowena, Spending the Night on the Riverbank, Attacked by Midges, Who are Winning

How were there so many midges out here? Gwai wondered, slapping her neck for what felt to be the hundredth time in the last five minutes as she wandered the riverbank looking for dinner. What did they eat when they couldn't get Rohir?

Fortunately it was blackberry season, and they grew in an abundance on the banks of the river, enjoying the moist soil. She carefully tried to avoid getting poked by the sharp needles, with fair success. Only blackberries would make an adequate yet unsatisfying dinner, and Gwai hoped Rowena was fairing better in the quest for food.

Fortunately it was summer and the night was warm, no hint of rain, and Gwai felt no need to struggle getting a fire going. She likely could, if she put her mind to it, but it would probably take hours, and they did not need the heat, and they had nothing to cook on a fire anyway. Do midges like fire, or does the smoke scare them away? Gwai wondered absentmindedly to herself.

She moved a nearby log so she could keep her back to the river and keep a lookout the other directions. “I’ll take first watch!” she offered cheerfully to Rowena, tossing her the other bedroll. Gwai soon settled down with her own bedroll, her back against the log, and staring up at the stars, picking out Valacirca, her favorite constellation, before again slapping at midges using her as an all-you-can-eat-Rider-buffet.

___________

The morning dawned clear, and Gwai stretched as she rose to her feet. She had spent many nights out in the open, lying on the ground, and she was grateful to at least have had a bedroll in this situation. Still, it did make her appreciate her bed at home.

A few more blackberries for breakfast, and she was ready to break what little camp there was. Gwai carefully rolled up her bedroll, threw the rock filled sock in the boat, and looked skeptically at the cowbell in which Rowena had put bugs when they were still in the forest. “Are they still in there?” Gwai asked skeptically, wondering if really they needed to bring them as well.

Gwai had just begun pushing the boat into the water when something mostly buried in nearby mud gleamed dully in the early sunlight. Excited at the prospect of a new tool, Gwai kneeled next to the object, pushing the mud out of the way with her hands. She stopped briefly, when she realized what it was. A sword! Thank Bema, Gwai thought, immensely excited at the prospect of having a weapon, digging the rest of the mud off. It was dull after likely many years in the sun, and likely would do little damage, but it was better than the clubs she had fashioned. She didn't care to ponder the fate of the one who had left a sword behind.

She carefully washed the mud off the sword, and stowed it in the rowboat as well. “Let’s leave these midges behind while we still have a little blood left!” she only halfway joked to Rowena, as she pushed the rowboat out into the water, knowing she would likely have to either use one of the sticks as a pole, or possibly get out in the water and drag or swim with it, depending on how deep the water was. Hopefully the current would pick up quickly.

[Elarith]

Elarith and Dicun, about to have a bad time

Elarith nearly choked on her berries when Dicun said his sister was in Edoras running a shop. "Oh, snap! Which shop does she run? I have the butcher's - well, it's my brother's now really, I'm back helping out to earn my keep," she said excitedly. She hadn't managed to explore as much of the Riddermarket as she wanted to yet, time and money being at a premium at present, so it was unlikely she'd run into his sister, but you never knew.

"My mother is still on the sheepholding, but she's getting on now, and my eldest brother Wulfric has it with his children and his new wife. Then there's my second oldest brother, Léofric, who was a pæthfindian for many years, then Ælfric who's the butcher, then me, then my brother Guthbrand who is a bard, and last we heard was in Mundberg at their libraries," she explained, counting them off on her berry-stained fingers. "Don't worry, I'll not test you on that later."

Having eaten probably more berries than she should, Elarith went to wash her hands and face in the stream before returning to their little fire. She was quite exhausted after all their trekking around, and made to turn in, wishing Dicun a good night. She was pleased she had a companion in this strange adventure.

Night deepened, and Elarith made herself as comfortable as she could to get some sleep, pulling her cloak over her. The trees nearby were creaking and moaning as if a strong wind was blowing through them, yet the air remained still. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to put it out of her mind, a figment of her imagination, and huddled closer to Dicun and the low-burning fire. But the uneasiness was too much, and she lay awake, watching the shadows, with her hand on the sword hilt. “Is this... the Entwood?” she whispered to the other dryhtguma. If the river was the Entwash it was entirely possible they had strayed into the eaves of Fangorn, and that meant Bad News.

Something twitched on her arm, and she brushed it off. Then something fuzzy was on her face, and she jerked upright, flailing at whatever it was. Now there was something in her hair. “For Béma’s sake!” Elarith hissed, holding up a wriggly thing to the faint glow of the fire. It was a fat caterpillar, and there were more all over her cloak. She shook them off as best she could, then retreated to sit with her back against a tree, sword by her side, for the remains of the night.

Dawn took an agonisingly long time to arrive and she was bone weary when it did. The forest had made them most unwelcome, and she would be pleased to quit it. She splashed some water on her face from the stream and checked their water skin was full. When Dicun was ready, they left the trees, Elarith glaring back and shaking her fist at it. "So, which way did the old man point again?"

[Aethelu]

Dicun and Elarith, wishing they had a tent (or a hut)

Dicun hadn't quite expected Elarith's excited reply when he mentioned his sister's shop. "She runs Pen and Ink, sells all sorts of things for writing. She learned it when she was travelling, used to teach kids to earn her keep." He had been so excited to hear all about her adventures when she'd come home at last. It had been almost disappointing to hear that a lot of them were really quite ordinary, singing songs and teaching letters. Still, it had spurred him on to get out into the world and find his own adventure. He listened intently as Elarith listed off all her family, they were certainly a large one, and laughed as she promised not to test him later. "It must be nice to have so many siblings," he mused with a yawn.

As Elarith went off to the stream, Dicun began to search around for a comfortable looking place to sleep. Or at least, as comfortable as you could be sleeping on the ground. In the end he picked a spot close to one of the trees, his head resting near the branches. He pulled the saddle over to rest at his back so at least he would know where it was, or at the very least to act as a windbreak. Bidding her a goodnight it didn't take long for sleep to overtake him

Creak.

Dicun wakened with a start. He lay still for a moment listening hard for the noise once more.

Groan.

He sat bolt upright, his heart pounding. What had that noise been? Were the orcs back? Was that strange voice they'd heard on the wind coming for them? It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark, the moonlight filtering through the leaves as the last embers of fire glowed at his feet. The forest looked different in the dark. Shadows seemed to flit at the edge of his vision, but when he looked directly at them, they were gone. The creaks and groans seemed so loud to be almost deafening. He took deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate, trying to calm his mind. The sounds were strange but surely it was just the forest. They would be fine, it was just his mind playing tricks on them in the night.

Beside him, Elarith had woken too and was whispering as she moved closer. "I hope we haven't ended up in Fangorn, that would be just our luck," he whispered back. He tried to settle back down but something felt odd as he lay back down to sleep. There was something touching his leg. He gave his leg a shake to try and dislodge it. There was something touching his arm too. Both arms. Groaning, Dicun sat up again and waited for eyes to adjust to the faint glow of fire and moon. There were caterpillars on his arms and legs. He hated caterpillars.

With a yelp, he jumped up and tried to brush off the little bugs that were now crawling over him. He could feel them under his shirt, so he pulled it off and began to shake it. He was desperate to be rid of these little creatures. It was like he was doing a strange dance as he tried to shake off the bugs from his body and clothes. He could only hope that Elarith was faring better than him and didn't think any less of him while he frantically danced. At last, he was pretty sure he had gotten rid of them all, or at least most of them. He pulled his shirt back on and shuffled away from the fallen nest. There was no way he was going to sleep there anymore. Now he was exhausted, he took a few more steps and flopped down on the forest floor. He began to drift off to sleep once more.

The birds were calling, dawn was coming. Dicun swore under his breath. With bleary eyes he sat up once more. The forest looked so calm and pretty in the dawn light. He hated it. He stumbled to the stream and shoved his whole head in, desperately hoping it would wake him up. With a great deal more effort than it should have taken, he hoisted the saddle back on his shoulder. "It was that way," he replied, his voice raspier than he had expected, pointing the way the old man had offered them. "He had better have been telling the truth.

[Shivased]

Shivased paused in her slow walk across the plains for the fiftieth time, leaning heavily on the spear and lifting her sore ankle off the ground. Seriously, where was a horse when you needed one? Not like I'm not in the land of the Horse Lords, home of the Mearas or anything she shouted to the sky, her frustration and pain boiling over a bit. She was sore, thirsty, hungry and tired. This exercise was not supposed to be like this. Drop them all in the wild to find the camp. Simple, easy. But it looked like someone had played with the plan and changed things up. And she wasn't happy about it.

She continued on for another hour or so, her thirst growing. She was just reaching the point of stopping when she caught the sound of water bubbling over rocks. Her pace picked up a bit until she found the small stream winding it's way through the plain. It wasn't much, but it was water. She immediately dropped down to the edge of it and stuck her face in the water, sucking up the clear water. It took some effort not to gulp as much as she could, having gone a full day without water so far. She forced herself to only drink a moderate amount and then sat down beside the stream, relaxing. Every few minutes she drank a small amount, until she felt some relief from her dehydration and used the time between sips to wash off her scrapes as best she could. After debating the situation she even opened the pot of honey in the healing kit and ate half of it. The scrapes she had didn't truly need honey or bandaging, so eating it and getting the energy it would give her was the best idea. It also filled her empty stomach at least a little. A rock beside her made for a good place to elevate her foot a bit, and she laid back, relaxing a bit and savouring the feeling of quenching her thirst.

She must have dozed off because when she was aware again the sun was just beginning to rise. It had been just before dawn when she found the stream, so she hadn't lost much time. She took another long drink from the stream and pondered it sadly. She couldn't stay here, she had to keep moving. But leaving the water source yesterday had been a bad idea, and she was loathe to do it again. Hopefully she found the camp soon.

With one last drink, filling up on as much water as she could, she struggled to her feet and continued on in the direction she hoped the Entwash was. She had only gone a couple hours past dawn when she stumbled forward unexpectedly. The ground seemed to give way beneath her and she found herself tumbling forward for the second time since this whole disaster started. The spear went flying and she reached out her hands to grasp onto something to stop her fall but there was nothing there. Instead her hands grasped open air as she tumbled down a hill and came to rest face-first in something wet and earthy.

Groaning she rolled over and opened her eyes, grimacing at the squelching noise she made in the mud. She couldn't believe it. First a cave and tumbling down a hill, and now mud. Would it never end? Wiping the mud from her face she sat up and looked around. She was in a ravine of some sort. Looked like she would have been able to climb out if she were in better condition, but given her ankle, the sides of the ravine might as well have been a mountain. And speaking of her ankle, it was screaming at her anew. It had twisted again as she fell or landed, she wasn't sure which. It definitely wasn't her day.

Studying her ankle she hissed when trying to move it and sighed. She couldn't sit here, but it was not going to be fun to continue. Not that she had much choice. She looked around and spotted the spear sticking out of the mud. It seemed intact still, which was handy. Grasping for it she used it to pull herself to her feet with a lot of slipping and struggling and mud splashing everywhere.

Once on her feet she looked down at her body in disgust. She was covered in mud. Everywhere. Her uniform, her cloak....it was in her hair, her boots...in other places mud should not be. She dug into the healing kit still hanging from her and groaned. Everything in there was covered in mud too. She did manage to find one bandage roll that was somewhat clean and used it to wipe her face as best she could, but that was it. The rest was going to have to stay, and it was already itching.

I swear he's fired. I don't care what anyone else says, the Quartermaster is fired. Simple as that. This is ridiculous, and these supplies are pointless. This is not what I planned. I'm done, he's fired. He can be a kitchen boy or clean the slop buckets or night pots or something. I don't care, as long as he pays for this.

She grumbled on to the empty air as she limped down the ravine, hoping it led her somewhere helpful or useful or...well, not where she was, scratching at the drying mud as she went.

[Taethowen]

Taethowen & Walpurga - Through the Night, in the Middle of Nowhere
Reconfigured supplies: A canoe paddle, part of a cooked turkey, bag of apples (minus a few). A heavy cloak missing a bit at the hem. A small knife. A piece of flint.

As she watched over the split turkey cooking in the coals, Taeth found herself entranced by Walpurga's story. Studying the young woman, Taeth realizes that there was a chance the soldier she described may have been someone she served with during her first stint in the Cavalry. While she cannot place the story itself in her memories--whether because she never knew it, or because of that Bema-damned illness--if she was at least a decade older than Walpurga, which was what she suspected, then that incident would have almost certainly happened around the time of her previous service.

When Walpurga passed her water-boot over, Taethowen smiled. "I too learned to read from a Gondorian book," she said. "Technically, I'm half-Gondorian, as my mother was from Gondor, but she never spoke of her family there, and I've... lost contact with her in recent years, so I don't know if I'll ever find out anything else."

Looking down at the partially-filled water boot, Taeth frowned. She was worried about their wanderings, and was still uncertain that leaving the river had been wise. As she carefully dumped water into her palm and scrubbed the turkey's gore from the knife and her hands as best she could before splashing a bit more water to rinse the last of it away. She tucked the knife blade into some of the coals to burn away any blood and flesh that remained, but made sure not to leave it for too long. What she wouldn't give for a pan to heat some water in!

"It'll be a while yet before the turkey's cooked enough to eat," Taeth said. "I can keep watch for a while if you'd like to rest your eyes."

Taeth walked a little ways out of the circle of light cast by the fire, then, turning her face to the sky. It had been a long while since she'd gazed at the stars from Rohan, and she began quietly picking out familiar constellations to orient herself. Navigating the compass points by where the sun stood in the sky was simple, but there was only so much it could do to reveal one's true location. The stars were far better for that.
As she observed, though, there were little things that were... off. And during one moment while she want to turn the turkey meat to help it roast more evenly, she realized why.

"Bema's horn," she muttered. "We're much further east than I thought. Fredegar."

She finished flipping over the turkey pieces, and then returned to her stargazing, and began to plot their course for the morning.

We need a horse or two, and water skins. Somehow. Taeth thought. There's... too far to go, even assuming we just need to get back to Edoras, and ignoring where the main camp might be. I wonder if we're closer to the Anhyrne estate than we are to Edoras, honestly. But we'd have to go south instead of west.

Taeth continued to figure out what they would need to do in the morning for a while longer, before returning to the fire. "The turkey's finally ready, or at least some of it is," she said to Walpurga, and retrieved a piece for herself.

Once she'd eaten and licked the juices off her fingers, then pulled the rest of the meat off the fire to rest on the canoe paddle's blade, Taeth retrieved the heavy cloak and rolled it up into a long log-like pillow. "You can use one end, and I'll use the other," she told Walpurga. She settled it down close to the fire.

Taethowen had spent enough nights outdoors in her travels that she drifted into sleep easily enough, though the hours till morning passed far too quickly to truly be restful.

The first light of dawn was just beginning to rouse her when a quiet growl brought her to full alertness. Without stirring, Taethowen opened her eyes. Across the now-barely smouldering fire, she could see wolves--three, so far as she could tell, and she truly hoped it was only three--had found the turkey meat remaining from the night before.

"Walpurga!" Taeth hissed. "Are you awake?"

Taeth didn't get a chance to hear a response before one of the wolves turned to face them, and eyes latching onto her as it snarled. There was no more time. Taeth moved quickly, reaching for the knife she'd left by the campfire, before leaping back, attempting to draw the wolves away from Walpurga. She needed to buy at least enough time for the other woman to wake up.

Taeth swore as one of the wolves lunged at her.

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Allacan, human, she/her, with Éolath

All in all, despite the lack of hearty food and somewhat rough sleeping, it had been an exceedingly pleasant night. After she had finally overcome her hysterics she had waved away Éolath's concerns with regards her sanity and his apparent concern that her horse was in fact some sort of demon spirit. She gathered up her own supplies and took the mare by the halter (she really was a gorgeous creature) and led the little group down towards lower ground. They talked while they walked, each of them confessing similar trepidation about riding bareback, although she was impressed by the young rider's idea to use braided grass to create a girth. She had walked through the long grasses all day and hadn't for a moment thought to make use of them, and confessed as much to Éolath which seemed to boost his confidence a little. She followed her instincts as they walked, eager to find a good resting spot before the dark closed in and the temperature dropped. She scanned the horizon, watching for tell-tale signs of the river while also allowing the steed to guide her a little - horses were often better at finding sources of water than people - and consciously aiming for lower ground where water might pool and run. It was not long before they were rewarded with the sound of running water and, cresting the next hilltop, finally caught sight of the Snowbourne River only a little way below them.

She was tired, but also relieved and exhilarated that they had at last found somewhere that should provide them with what they needed to survive more comfortably. She was also still grinning with the relief that her travel companion wasn't one of the more stuffy, serious warriors that she had dreaded being left with in the wilderness with, a little excited at having a horse again, and perhaps a little cracked from the heat. So it was that as soon as she spied the rushing water and the little copse of trees around it, she grinned mischievously across at Éolath and declared loudly "Race you!". Then she took off at a mad sprint, her palomino mare chasing after her and eventually overtaking her, the length of its lead rope whipping along behind it like a flag as it ran for the water and on reaching its shores, reared and neighed joyously. Allacan, arriving a short time later, berated the mount. "You cheated! I only have two legs and you have four" then laughing aloud as the horse eyed its legs curiously, as though wondering what exactly it could have done about it.

By the time Éolath had joined them, Allacan had already set about gathering the kindling and to build a fire; a fire might not help with their empty stomachs but it would work wonders for morale. She was lucky and found a small sliver of flint washed up by the river, and with this and her knife she soon enough had a small ball of kindling smoking. It took her two or three attempts before she was able to coerce smokey kindling into burning flame, but eventually she managed to convince flame to settle on small slivers of wood she whittled from sticks with her knife, and soon enough they had a small campfire going. The copse had enough dead wood scattered about that they would not struggle for fuel, and Allacan therefore turned her attention to picking some of the new shoots from the trees to chop away and start whittling at; some smaller ones that could be used to hold food over the fire, and a few larger ones that - she intended - would eventually become throwing spears, of a sort.

Meanwhile Éolath had busied himself brushing down the horse and resupplying their water, and had even managed to muster up some passable fair of a meal; ground grain with colt’s foot leaves which mixed with some of the crackers to feed them. It tasted bland, but all the same Allacan was grateful she had found someone so capable and willing to contribute. She confessed as much to Éolath, seeing once again his confidence boosted by her proclamation. As the last of the sun disappeared from the sky, she surprised him with the marshmallows, handing him one of the already whittled green-sticks so that he could toast his half over the fire, and they sat companionably, enjoying the sweetness of sugar on the tongue as it washed away the taste of their makeshift meal and

She woke the next morning with a full bladder and, hurrying out of the make-shift nest Éolath had made for her the night before, ran a little ways downstream and into the trees so that she could relieve herself out of sight. She was re-belting her trews and kicking dirt over her make-shift toilet when her nose caught a familiar scent. She turned a few times, trying to pinpoint the source. Now the sun was up, they could forage the little copse properly, and if her nose was right there was something edible only a short distance away. She headed a little way towards the river until at last she saw the familiar cluster of leaves growing against the nearside embankment; wild-garlic! She promptly lkicked off her boots, unbuttoned her trews again and dropped them so that she could wade into the water and pick a number of leaves from their otherwise inaccessible position, already pondering the best way to prepare them so as to make them more palatable.

She heard Éolath's voice, but didn't quite make out his words. With hands full of wild-garlic, she stepped back up the bank so there was less earth and plant-life between her and the boy. His next words were much clearer, and abandoning her handfuls of garlic with her boots and trousers on the embankment she took off at a full sprint. As she passed through the camp, she snatched up the dagger and one of the crude spears she had whittled the night before, hefting them ready for a fight and completely oblivious that it was only her undergarments and the length of her shirt that covered her lower parts. She came bursting out of the trees in such a manner, expectant of some threat or aggressor, so much so that the chestnut horse withdrew a few steps defensively and liberated Éolath from under its hooves.

She laughed, the same hearty, care-free laugh she had engaged in the day before, and turned in greeting to the new horse. "Well hello there, good..." she paused, bending down in an attempt to catch a glimpse under the horse's legs to determine its gender but her efforts being thwarted as the horse side-stepped, clearly disgruntled at being interrupted in its tormenting of Éolath. "Looks like you made a friend!" She said towards Éolath as he turned and spotted her.

Allacan was not body shy; if anything she was quite proud of her lithe athletic body, and wasn't one to encourage any level of embarrassment, shame or disgust at everyday nudity of any kind, even if she was respectful to anyone else who sought privacy. And so she stood there with a knife in one hand and sharpened length of wood in the other as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her legs and feet to be bare. "Well don't just stand there, offer it some food or something;" she said, stepping forward towards both horse and rider "It already likes you, that much is clear" she commented, despite all evidence to the contrary. "So just show it you aren't afraid of it and can give it ear-scritches and you'll have a friend for life." She seemed not the least intimidated by the wild creature, although the weapons in her hands and her currently very obviously athletic physique might have helped with that.

She stood a while, providing support while the young lad ingratiated himself with his new mount; Allacan was now firmly of the opinion that the new trend of horse-choosing in Rohan was to just wander around in the wilderness and wait for a horse to pick you, in the manner of the legendary Maeras. These two steeds might not be of that direct lineage, but it was possible they at least had some Maeras blood within them, so you should never assume the worst. At last seeing that Éolath now seemed to be getting along better with the new horse, she returned to the fire and prioritised completing the make-shift spears by cutting cross-lines into the opposite end to the spiked point, and threading large leaves in in place of flights. She made a few test-throws, satisfied that they now balanced better in the air and would serve at least as passable weapons over short distances, apparently still completely uncaring of the fact that she was still almost naked from the waist down and making quite a display of herself as she made practice tosses with the spears.

At last she spotted that Éolath had returned and laughed at the discomfort on his face at seeing her thus un-trousered, her legs still glistening with wet from the river. She broke his awkwardness by passing him one of the make-shift spears. "While I'm glad that you were only being assaulted by an over-friendly horse, you did remind me that these hills and plains can house much fouler folk, and we should be prepared in case of attack. These will work over short distances of up to 30 feet, and I've fashioned us two apiece from the best wood I could find, so if we discover ourselves in a fight its best to hold onto them until you have a clear shot. The leaves will wilt and should be replaced; they'll be much more unwieldy to throw without flights." She said, for the first time since meeting him the day before an edge of sobriety and authority creeping into her voice, obviously sobered a little by her earlier concern for his welfare. "We'll follow the river-flow; I have procured intelligence to suggest that the camp we are seeking might be near the Entwade so we can follow the Snowbourne to where it converges with the Entwash and then follow the latter upriver. We could do with collecting fire-wood and kindling from here to take with us in case we don't find trees for a while, and we can scavenge food as we go. The riverbed is sure to offer us a number of edible morsels; I already found some wild-garlic nearby and I wouldn't be surprised if we don't also see some wildlife around the water that we can hopefully now spear if we are quick." The normality and sensibility of the conversation was somewhat juxtaposed by the fact she was still standing there without any trousers on. "I suspect we may find some mushrooms among the undergrowth or by the river also, but my haeland skills are somewhat rusty so I wouldn't be able to confidently assess if they were edible or poisonous, so I wouldn't opt to risk it unless we had no other choice. We could gather them though, and engage in some good old-fashioned taste-testing." She was peering away into the woodland thoughtfully, hands on her hips and feet shoulder-length apart, unaware that she was standing in a manner that only accentuated her half-nudity. "If you can think of a way to use the cooking pot I have to the best use then by all means, help yourself to it. But I recommend you and I both practice with our make-shift spears as we go; they aren't the most accurate of tools and we want to be fresh to react to any wildlife we might flush out as we travel; I don't know about you but I would quite fancy a coney and garlic stew!" she finished with a grin, before taking up her own pair of spears and turning back towards a woodland. "I'll be back with wild-garlic as soon as I've had a proper wash. If you don't mind boiling us some water that would be amazing."

Equipped with a horse with only a halter/lead, a cooking pot, a water skin, a dagger, a sliver of flint, two make-shift throwing spears, only a few remaining graham crackers, but no chocolate and no marshmallows.

[The Good Hunter]

Taethowen & Walpurga - In the Middle of Nowhere, Beset by Lupine Assailants

The turkey tasted delicious. The grease was hot and burned her tongue but the meat was juicy and succulent. There were no spices between them to flavor the turkey, but the meal was still satisfying. Walpurga took to watching the stars after they ate. Her mother had taught her the constellations when she was little. They would watch the stars wheel and dance overhead on long winter nights, huddle together under an assortment of thick woolen blankets. She drifted slowly to sleep, listening to Taethowen’s soft, even breaths on the other side of the cloak/pillow.

Suddenly, she was awake. The sky was grey dawn, faint wisps of cloud flittered across her vision as it cleared. She didn’t move. There was something wrong. The hair on the back of her neck tingled. Walpurga closed her eyes and focused on her hearing. She heard a low growl to one side, then an answering growl a few feet away. Then another sound, that of tearing flesh even closer. She sniffed the air. It smelled of heat, wild and feral.

While she was unsure where they were exactly, there was only thing that sounded and smelled like that: wolves. At least three of them. She felt Taethowen stir across from her. Two against three. They had a knife and a canoe paddle between them. The odds were not great, but these wolves hadn’t realized something: Walpurga was not afraid of wolves.

She heard the pæthfindian’s voice. Good, she was awake, and she knew the situation.

“Aye, I’m awake.” she whispered.

She wasn’t sure if Taethowen heard her. There was a flash of movement and Walpurga felt the cloak move.

In a flash, Walpurga was up. There were only three wolves, but those were more than enough. Taethowen had the knife, which left the canoe paddle to her. However, one of the wolves was already dragging it away (the paddle being connected to the turkey). She lunged at the dragging piece of wood and yanked it back to her. She must have caught the wolf off guard because instead of pulling back on it, the wolf dropped it and started snarling at her.

She flipped the paddle around, going for a pike form grip. She dragged the oar along the ground as she built momentum, running at the wolf until she was in striking distance. She brought spear up, whirling it around over her head the back around to slam into the wolf’s head in an explosion of teeth and blood. The wolf yipped and snarled. It recovered remarkably fast and before she could bring the oar back around to a defensive stance, the wolf was pouncing on her. It barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. She was only just able to bring the oar between them to keep the wolf from crushing her. It was enormous, the shaggy fur was thick with burrs and flecks of grass, up close it smelled like stalking death. Walpurga held her breath and pushed as hard as she could to push the wolf back. It was so heavy though, she could feel the oar beginning to crack under the weight of the beast. She howled with rage, pent up emotions that suddenly burst out of her. She had no idea where that strength had come from, but she used it. She threw the wolf back and, pointing the oar forward, slammed it into the side of the wolf’s face. She heard, and felt, the crunch of breaking bones. It was a satisfying sound to her in that moment.

The wolf wasn’t done yet though. It was wounded, but it was angry too. It lunged at her again, monstrous jaws snapping like a iron bear trap. She sidestepped the beast though, dragging her feet to the right as the lounged. In the same movement, she twisted around, bringing the oar up and over her head and slammed the wood into the middle back of her opponent. It went limp and fell like a stone. She didn’t waste time being smug, before it had a chance to recover, Walpurga slammed the oar blade between the eyes of the wolf as hard as she could. She channeled all her anger into the blow, crushing the wolf’s skull beneath her.

She wasn’t done yet.

Taethowen had the knife, she could hold her own for the moment. Walpurga wasn’t worked about the Cavalry veteran. She was however, worried about the third wolf. It hadn’t attacked her while she was engaged with the other wolf. Where was it? She whirled around, horror gripping her belly as she watched it coming up behind Taethowen. Without thinking, Walpurga ran forward. The gap would be close, but she could stop it before it reached the pæthefindian’s unprotected flank if she was fast enough. She felt like she was moving through a bog. Each step seemed to take longer than it should have. She could see the wolf close the gap, she could see the massive canines glistening with saliva. She could see the savage, atavistic hunger in the wolf’s eyes. The muscles coiled to leap.

But Walpurga launched herself first. She hit the wolf full in the chest with her shoulder, knocking the beast off its trajectory. They both tumbled to the ground, falling in a heap of limbs, fur, and rage.

Walpurga was up first though. She had dropped the paddle in the collision but before the wolf could recover she was on it with her bare hands. The savagery of battle was on her, she moved instinctively. She punched the wolf, jabbing a finger in its eye before wrapping her arms around the wolf’s neck. She wasn’t heavy enough to snap the neck, but she could keep it down. She kicked savagely, her bare feet finding purchase on the wolf’s wobbling leg.

She released the wolf momentarily, adjusting her grip. In a final, instinctive act, Walpurga grabbed the jaws of the wolf and pulled in different directions. The wolf tried to yank itself free but her grip held. She pulled as hard as she could, screaming as she do so. The wolf howled, whimpered, whined, and snarled. It tried whipping it’s head back and forth but Walpurga’s grip was too strong, too angry, the be ripped free.

The was a loud POP followed by the sound or ripping muscles and the movement of the wolf ceased. The weight collapsed as she ripped the jaws apart. She fell back, panting heavily. Her hands were cut, blood flowed copiously from a jagged line on her palm. But for now, she couldn’t feel it. Rapidly becoming exhausted, she whirled around, kicking the paddle into her hands, and resumed a defensive stance, ready to defend Taethowen if need be.

[Éolath]

Eolath with Allacan
Horse, holey bucket, gloves, randomly gathered foodstuffs
His rescue came quickly, though definitely not clad as he expected. He rolled out from under the horse as footsteps approached, but couldn’t get himself to his feet (or his mouth to close) as he gaped at the sight of his comrade, bare legs flashing in the morning sun. He studied her briefly, then looked away. Despite her careless attitude to her state of dress, he suspected he shouldn’t really admire the shapely legs blatantly.

The horse, snorting at her, stepped over him once more. Definitely a male, he thought, sighing. “I don’t think he wants to be my friend, Allacan,” he said hesitantly. “I think he’d rather eat me.” But he struggled to his feet. The horse seemed to find it a game, and he spent the morning being shoved when he least expected it. He tried all he could think of. Firm and stern, soft and cajoling, quiet, loud. The horse would stare at him, then knock him to the ground. Then, finally, he nuzzled Éo’s chest and sighed softly. He felt his heart melt, and stroked a hand over the arched crest. “You’re a fine one, aren’t you. I suppose you’ll want to come with us.”

After a few more caresses, Éo returned to the camp. Stopped short and stared again. She still wasn’t dressed. She’d been dressed before the horse came, he’d seen her heading for the river. But…now she just…wasn’t. He almost missed her words about the spears, but the somber tone of her voice had him dragging his attention back.
“Yes, sir,” he said softly and took the spears. “I’ll keep my eyes out for anything I recognize as edible. I know what not to eat, usually, but not always what tastes good. I’m pretty good with mushrooms though, we used to trade them when I worked in Gondor.” His eyes drifted down her legs again, and he lost track of his thoughts. Dragged his eyes to focus over his head.

“Uhm…what? Boiling water, oh. Yes, of course. Uhm…you’ll put on some pants before we…practice, right? There might be … nettles or something. And you’re distracting.” He stuttered, flushed bright red and clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m s-sorry. I’ll go …water…something.”
Mortified, he dashed off to the river. Managed to get a bucket of water and set it over the fire. “That was dumb,” he muttered to himself. “I should have just…ignored it or something.” It wasn’t like he was particularly modest. But it was just so unexpected. Women always kept covered. Why was that, he mused. It didn’t seem fair. He’d apologize again.

With that thought, he set to exploring a little. Grinned sheepishly when she joined him again. “I walked a bit down the bank,” he said after a bit. “I didn’t find any coneys, but I found some mushrooms that I know are not poisonous. We used to sell these,” he held out a handful of tiny mushrooms, “they’re actually pretty expensive so I’ve never tried them. The trader we sold them to said they’re very strong and a person shouldn’t eat more than one or two at a time. And I found these,” he pointed at another pile, “they’re good fried with onions. I bet they’d go good with garlic and coneys, too.”

Éolath shifted, offered her one of the smaller mushrooms. “We can collect grain, too, as we go. I don’t know how much time we should spend hunting, or if we should just try to find the camp.” He nibbled a mushroom, frowned at the strange taste. It almost burned his tongue, but the taste wasn’t that bad. “I also finished braiding the grass girths. We can try riding.” He grinned, took another bite. It was better this time and he felt his ears tingle. “Or falling, depending on our balance.”

[Taethowen]

Taethowen & Walpurga - In the Middle of Nowhere, Surviving a Wolf Attack
Reconfigured supplies: A canoe paddle, bag of apples (minus a few). A heavy cloak missing a bit at the hem. A small knife. A piece of flint. Three wolf pelts.

Taeth saw Walpurga leap into action, but wasn't able to actually watch the battle, as she realized that there was not only the wolf lunging at her from her front, but the third one had also come around and flanked her. There was no way she could take both wolves at once with a just a small knife, and she darted to the side to try and get both of them in view.

She only vaguely realized that there was yelling coming from where Walpurga fought.

The initial wolf crouched low then, its eyes locking with her own. Taeth tried to keep track of where the second wolf was by sound, not daring to look away. Taeth made sure her grip on the knife was secure, and then as soon as she saw the wolf's muscles tense to leap, she ducked, throwing her hand up to slash at the wolf as it flew over her.

Blood dripped down her hand, but the wolf hadn't been incapacitated, and it turned on her again, angrier than before. Taeth's heart raced, and she once more watched for the tell-tale tense of muscles.

This time, though, she didn't duck, but rather stepped to the side as the wolf pounced where she had stood. With a speed that stunned herself--fueled by adrenaline, and a desperate will to survive because Bema-dammit she had too much to live for now--she leapt onto the wolf's back, grabbed the scruff of its neck with her left hand, and then slit its throat with the knife in her right hand.

When she looked up, Walpurga stood before her, splattered with gore and blood, but seemed to be unharmed. Then Taeth caught sight of the woman's hands.

The wolf beneath her had stopped struggling, and Taeth dropped her hold on it and the knife, then strode over to Walpurga, yanking her hands up. "Did you get bitten?" Horror washed through Taeth. These wolves had been willing to attack humans, in daylight, for a turkey carcass. At a time of year when wildlife should have been abundant for hunting, the fact that these wolves were clearly starving was concerning. And she'd heard of terrible diseases that could spread by bites from oddly-acting animals.

When Walpurga explained how she'd killed the final wolf, Taeth's concern didn't exactly lessen. Walpurga still had open wounds on her hands that had come in contact with the wolf's spit and blood. What Taeth wouldn't give for a hælend to show up.

"Wash well. Use as much water as you need to, and make sure that the scrapes and cuts on your hands have bled some, to wash anything out," Taeth instructed. "We should stumble across a spring somewhere along the way.

"Make sure the fire is out when you've finished tending to your hands. I'll skin the wolves--no use in letting them go to complete waste--and then we'll need to set out. I did some figuring last night, and we're much further east than I thought. Forget finding the camp, we've got a full day, maybe even two days, just to make it back to Edoras on foot."

Cursing the quartermaster that had given them such inadequate supplies for a training mission like this, Taeth set to work skinning the wolves. Walpurga had done a real number to their heads, so Taeth didn't bother to try and save their feet or tails either. But the rest of the wolves' fur would make for some lovely lining in boots or hats, or for some trim on a winter cloak.

The sun was far higher in the sky than she would have liked by the time she finished on the skinning the wolves and carefully folding the pelts to keep the inner sides moist, and wrapping them in what remained of the cloak.

She did her best to wash her hands, again, with the minimal amount of water she could, then turned to Walpurga. "Grab yourself an apple, and let's be off," Taeth said. "We've a long ways to go before nightfall."

[Shivased]

FOURTH UPDATE

Gwai
As Gwai get in the boat it seems to be caught by what little current there is, and floats away. Unfortunately it is too fast for Rowena to catch it, and given you have no proper paddle, it's almost impossible to stop or steer. You float away from your partner, heading downstream. As you go, you realize the current is getting faster and within a short time you've picked up enough speed you're sailing along at a good clip. It doesn't take long to figure out exactly why the current picked up so much, as a roaring sound starts to build. You're headed towards a waterfall!
You have been separated from your partner!

Rowena
Unfortunately your partner has been swept away from you and is gone downriver in your boat. You are left on the bank alone, but at least you have the cowbell full of bugs. It looks like you're on your own. What do you do?
You have been separated from your partner!

Amadhrill and Eomund (Dim)
The night passes quietly, with the soldier sleeping through most of it. He wakes slightly at times, mumbling nonsense and then falling back to sleep. When dawn comes he seems to wake more, and with some prompting is able to come fully awake. Thank you, he tells you after looking around and seeing his tended injury and horse. You saved my life. He seems to consider you for a minute. Can you help me get to camp? I'm not sure where we are, but camp lies along the eastern bank of the Entwade. I was riding towards it when I was attacked. I'm sure the marshals won't mind if I told you, circumstances what they are.

Dicun (Aethelu) and Elarith
It doesn't take you long to get out of the forest and you find yourself on the plains again. Heading the way the old man pointed you you find yourself on the bank of a river. If you're right and you were in Fangorn, then this would probably be the Entwash. After a bit of walking down the river you come upon a rowboat. It seems to be abandoned and looks like it's been there for a while, but might be water-worthy? You could try it, maybe the river would be faster. Or you can continue your walk.

Shivased
You follow the ravine and find the going gets easier the longer you walk. The muddy ground dries up and turns flat and even, and the banks of the ravine shield you from the sun somewhat. For a while you have an easy walk, relatively speaking when you consider your injuries. By noon, however, the ravine has become shallower and shallower, and you are back in the open plain with the sun beating down on you. And, without warning, you stumble across two badgers in the long grass! They seem as surprised as you probably are, and you stare at each other for a minute. It could go either way but unfortunately for you, the badgers choose to attack!

Allacan and Eólath
You turn out to be much closer to where the Snowbourn converges with the Entwash than you thought, and you find yourself there within a couple hours of walking (or just an hour of riding if you try that). You turn and follow the Entwash, and by noon you can see what might be the Entwade in the distance, though you're still a little far off to tell. And it looks like you aren't going to be finding out right away. A stand of trees is ahead along the bank of the river. As you get close to it three men step out. They are roughly dressed and carrying swords, and immediately move to block your path. You want past, you gotta pay us a toll, the one in the middle states. That nice lookin' golden horse will do. And any coin you've got. We'll take that too. They raise their swords threateningly. It doesn't look like they're going to let you pass without a fight.

Thalionwen
You and the horse make good time across the plains. After an hour or so you spot a farm in the distance. A farmer stands in the yard, watching your approach. As you reach the farm however, you run into a Cavalry patrol. The Aethelwigend stares at you and your...odd...attire. Sorry, Ma'am, but you can't go any further, he tells you sternly, though he seems wary that you are even part of the exercise. I have orders, and you're not allowed out of the designated area. He talks before you or the farmer can say anything, and points in the opposite direction. He glances between you and the horse and the farmer, assessing the situation. If the horse belongs to this farmer, return it and be on your way.

Taethowen and Walpurga (Frost)
The battle with the wolves over and the carcasses skinned, you continue on your way. Luck is with you and you run across a clear-flowing stream, bubbling over rocks, not a couple hours into your walk. The water is cool and refreshing and must come from some sort of fresh spring. You have time to drink, clean your wounds and take a break if you want. And on the other side of the stream, visible in the sunlight, are clear wagon-tracks leading away from where you are in the direction you've been travelling. An experienced Paeth might notice the footprints around the stream, clearly made by Cavalry-issue boots. Looks like you're heading in the right direction! In addition to this, you notice a bag lying in a bush. It was probably dropped by someone. What do you find in it?
(You get to decide what's in the bag!)

Aelflaed (Fairy) and Eldrith
Your success with the badger is amazing! The adrenalin it provides speeds you up, and by noon you see something in the distance. Closer you see it is a small camp on the edge of the river at a crossing. You've reached the Entwade, the fording of the river Entwash! So now you at least know where you are! There are two cavalry riders there, keeping lookout. One grins at you. You two look like you've had a rough go. You aren't injured are you? That's a lot of blood on you. He holds out some supplies. A water skin and sword. I'm supposed to give this to whoever made it this far. His voice lowers Not supposed ta' tell ya', but keep walking up river.
You found a Water Skin and a Sword!

One more update to go! On the next update you'll either find camp, be horribly lost, or a Cavalry patrol will come find you and take you to camp! Good luck!

[Amadhrill]

Amadhrill and Éomund

The night passed quietly, the trainee and the hælend taking turns in sleeping and keeping watch. The moon and the stars had given what light they had, the summer night keeping them from freezing too much. As the new dawn comes and brings light, Amadhrill stands up, doing a few squats and jumps and stretches to warm up the tired and slightly cold body. «I will follow your track and get some more water and wash off the worst grime before breakfast.»

Her voice is rough from a night of little sleep and the still early dawn. She makes her way down the animal trail and quickly finds the river. The water is nice and cool as she washes away the remaining blood, sweat, and grime of the previous day as quickly as she can. For a moment she lets her thoughts return to her home in Edoras, her husband and children waiting there, while her hands cleans away the worst of the blood from the blind folds, after they have dried in the sun they will have to serve as bandages. Then she bends down and drinks as much water as she can before filling up the waterskin.

Her steps are lighter as she returns to their «camp», well, as close as they came to making one. She looks at it, shaking her head a little at the sorry sight. «Well, Éomund, we can be grateful for an easy night. This sure is the most sorry excuse for a camp I've seen in my days of the cavalry, not so much as a fire.» She laughs a little. «Here, drink up!» She hands him the water skin and take a piece of dried meat.

«Make sure you eat some of the dried meat as well, we need the salt from it to balance the water and lack of it from yesterday. And how is our patient?» Ama gently strokes the soldier's face and hands. «Good morning, wigend.» She says gently, but getting no reaction she starts to rub the inside of his palm, it worked to wake up sleeping babies, why should it not work on adults? Her voice goes from gentle to rather loud as she sees the soldier struggling to wake up. «Come on now, lad, time to wake up. We need to find camp and get you better cared for then what little I could do now.»

Eventually the soldier wakes up, and with a little help is even able to sit up with their support without getting dizzy. Ama smiles at the soldier as he thanks them. «I hope we did save your life, soldier, but you still need more care to get the wounds healing properly.» She ponders for a moment on whether or not she should open the bandages and check the wounds, maybe apply some more honey or salve. However, she has no clean bandages, only the still wet blindfolds and her head scarf. She listens as the soldier asks for help to get to camp and smile a little as he seems to worry slightly about what the marshals will say. «We will run the risk of the marshals wrath. Now, can we offer you some water, apples, dried meat or maybe an uncooked potato?»

Her eyes glitter with laughter at her own joke, uncooked potato. But as the soldier shakes his head, refusing food, the green eyes grow stern and she hands him an apple and some dried meat. «You have lost a good deal of water and Éomund, cavalry trainee on his first day, have done more than he wanted to in order to save your life, so you better eat your share and not let it be wasted! I will tend to your wounds when the blindfolds we got have dried, then we can wash the bandages you wear in the river and let them dry as we make our way towards camp.»

She smiled towards the soldier and the trainee, her face not betraying that she prayed hard for them to reach camp the same day. For one, she was anxious to reach a camp where they would have access to clean bandages, needles and thread, the necessary salves and herbs and all she, as a hælend, needed to look after a wound properly. And then, of course, it was food, what they had was quickly diminishing, soon all that was left were the uncooked potatoes.

«How are you Éomund? I think, the three of us together can manage to get you» Ama looked at the soldier «up on your horse, then the two of us can walk.» She looked around herself at the various items they had gotten hold of during the previous day, «I think we will put everything but the sword on the horse, what do you say?»

[Thalionwen Hunigfolm]

Thalionwen
At a Farm

"You're very rude," Thalionwen said the Aethelwigend, narrowing her eyes. "And I don't like this Cavalry exercise. I think it's silly, and a bad idea, and that's saying a lot, coming from me."

Turning to the farmer--a stolid, honest-faced older woman--she handed over her horse friend's lead rope.

"Here you are," she said. "This fellow and I found each other wandering. That was a piece of luck for him, but apparently NOT FOR ME."

She raised her voice on the last few words, and directed them pointedly at the stern Aethelwigend.

"That's kind of you," the farmer said. "My grandchildren are very fond of the old boy. Is there anything you need, before the soldier there sends you on your way?"

"Water," Thali said quickly, holding out her waterskin. "And something to cork that with. THE CAVALRY'S GOING TO HAVE CAUSED AN AWFUL LOT OF DANGEROUS DEHYDRATION AT THE RATE THEY'RE GOING."

Another jibe at the Aethelwigend, who stared straight ahead and refused to look at Thali, though she saw his mouth twitch.

Returning with the satisfyingly full waterskin and a cup as well, the farmer looked Thali up and down doubtfully.

"Can I get you something to wear?" she asked. "It might not fit just right, but--"

"No," Thali said firmly, before she could finish. "It's very kind of you to offer, but if the Cavalry sees fit to dump me in the middle of nowhere in a nightdress, then that's how I'm getting back to them. THEY CAN VERY WELL REAP WHAT THEY'VE SOWN."

The Aethelwigend relented, turning to Thalionwen with a longsuffering look.

"I didn't make the rules," he pointed out. "None of this is my doing. Don't shoot the messenger, and so on and so forth."

"You're certain there's nothing else I can give her?" the farmer asked him. "Doesn't seem right, someone from the Cavalry wandering about Rohan all on her own and that...under-equipped."

"She can take whatever she can carry," the Aethelwigend answered. "That's all, though."

The seed of an idea was forming in Thalionwen's admittedly somewhat addled mind.

"Give me your word on that?" Thali asked easily. "I can take whatever I can carry?"

"On my honor," the Aethewigend said. "Anything you can carry."

With a fond look of regret, Thali dropped her makeshift broom-and-letter-opener spear. She slipped the woven grass bag from her shoulder, and slung the waterskin in its place. Then she walked over to the Aethelwigend, who stood a head taller than her and was easily twice as broad at the shoulders, and squinted up at him.

"Give me your hand," Thali said.

After a moment's hesitation, the Aethelwigend held a hand out to her.

"Not that one," Thali scolded. "The other one."

Taking his hand, she sidled herself closer. There was a brief confusion during which the Aethelwigend sputtered useless protests, and then Thalionwen had him slung over her back, hands on one side, feet on the other.

"Goodbye," Thali said brightly, if a little breathlessly, to the farmer, who stood gaping. "I didn't want you to worry about me being on my own, but I can only take what I can carry, so I'm bringing this. Let's see what the Cavalry makes of that."

"I have a name," the Aethelwigend sighed, sounding defeated. "I'm Grimm."

"You are, aren't you?" Thali answered, walking steadily away and regretting all of her life choices instantly as the Aethelwigend's full weight settled on her. If only he was smaller.

"No, that's my name. Grimm. My name is Grimm."

"How unfortunate for you," Thali said. "Now shut up, Grimm, I'm trying to walk, and you're too big. Just unreasonably large. Normally I like large creatures--I mean, men--so I'm sure I'd appreciate it if I weren't lugging you across the plains."

Silence fell between them for awhile.

"You know, we could have brought my horse," Grimm said eventually. "This would have gone a lot faster."

"I can't carry a horse," Thali pointed out. "And I'm not the one who made up the 'whatever you can carry' rule. So here we are, and I'd say it's your fault."

"I didn't say how long you had to carry what you took," Grimm offered. "So the new rule is, you can put me down, and I'll still come with you."

"Well thank goodness for that," Thali said, dumping him off her back at once and flopping into the long grass. "Here," she tossed the waterskin at Grimm, "you can be the beast of burden now."

He took a long draft of water and stared uncertainly down at Thali.

"Who are you?" Grimm asked suspiciously. "You're not--"

"I'm Thalionwen Hunigfolm!" Thali said, beaming up at him as he did a very poor job of stifling a groan.

"Of course you are," Grimm said. "They warned m--I mean, they told me about you."

"Oh really?" Thali smiled, obviously quite pleased with herself. "Well, isn't that nice? Alright, Grimm my new manservant, help me up and take me to camp so we can get this over with."

For a moment, he only stared at her, a look of consternation on his face.

"What?" Thali asked. "Is there a spider on me?"

"No. But I have no idea where the camp is. They posted me out here in the middle of nowhere, and said to tell anyone in the exercise who turned up to head...that way."

He gestured vaguely to the horizon.

"That way?" Thali scoffed. "They didn't even give you a proper direction?"

"No," Grimm said. "I'm afraid not."

"Well then. I suppose there's nothing for it. We'll just have to go..."

"That way," they both said in unison, and began to walk again.

"Isn't this fun!" Thali said presently. "You thought you'd have a boring few days of guard duty, and now you're on an adventure!"

Grimm judiciously chose not to answer.

[Dimcairien Luiniel]

Éomund and Amadhril

The night passed rather quietly, if not a bit cold, but it was nice to rest. Ama wakened Éomund mid-way through the night for him to watch out for any creatures, as well as to keep an eye on the soldier, who was still fast asleep. Even though it wasn't terribly cold, Éomund was extremely stiff when the sun finally poked its rays over the horizon. He noticed Ama doing a series of jumps and squats to loosen up after spending a night on the ground and he imitated them to the best of his ability, even though it did involve almost falling flat on his face due to his uncooperative stiff knees that morning.

Once mostly awake, and after Ama had returned from washing at the stream, he too went down to the water, splashed some cold water on his face to finish waking himself up, and took a long, slow drink from the delicious water. Who knew water could be so tasty.

Ama apologised for the lack of a camp. Éomund smiled sadly and said, "I've slept in worse conditions," but didn't care to elaborate more. He wasn't entirely certain if sleeping on the floor in front of a fire that consisted of one or two smouldering coals in a house that had so many holes the winter winds blew in as "worse conditions" but they certainly weren't any better. And, the summer winds had prevented them from getting anywhere close to freezing.

The two proceeded to eat a few bites of the dried meat. Éomund looked at the nearly empty bag in concern. They would soon be out of provisions. Hopefully they would be able to find the camp soon, before the ran out of food and starved to death in the middle of the Rohan wilderness.

Somehow Ama managed to get the soldier to awaken and he sat up. After eating a few bites, that were nearly forced on him by the kindly hælend, he told them the general direction in which camp lay, though was a little uncertain of what the Marshals would think. At least, he didn't really know what to think about the Marshals, not after the incident with the Third Marshal in the Dragon Room. He still went red whenever he thought about it and tried to block it from his mind.

When Ama mentioned something about eating uncooked potatoes, Éomund looked up horrified. "You do know eating raw potato is dangerous!" he exclaimed. Anybody who had grown up with potatoes as the main food knew that eating raw potatoes could lead to severe stomach problems or even death!

Once all had breakfasted, it was time to try and head towards the camp, which they now knew lay on eastern bank of the Entwade. The information didn't entirely help Éomund as he had only been in Edoras once or twice before, and he could barely remember as he couldn't have been much more than three or four when he and his mother had travelled to Edoras for his father's funeral.

When Ama asked if she thought they could help the soldier onto his horse, Éomund nodded eagerly, and addressed the soldier a bit nervously, "Sir, if you think you can manage some of getting back on your horse, we should be able to help with the rest."

There was some scuffling, and a good deal of panting from both the soldier, Éomund, and Ama, but soon the soldier was atop his horse. Éomund filled the saddlebags with the items they had been carrying, apart from the sword of course, that was still best kept in Ama's possession, and slung them across the saddle. Taking the lead rope, he made sure the soldier was sitting tight, and then began to follow the trail the soldier had said led towards camp and hopefully hot food.

[Gwai]

Gwai, in the Rowboat, Tired of Berries

As Gwai clambered into the rowboat, it found a small bit of current and hurtled downstream, knocking Gwai backward, as she landed with a thud on her backside. Were padded bumflaps a thing? she wondered as she clambered up, to see her partner still on the bank. "Rowena!" Gwai called helplessly, no way to stop the boat as she had only a stick, and no paddle.

They were separated, the current spinning the small boat downstream, and Gwai soon couldn't see her anymore past a bend in the river. She attempted to steer using the stick as a rudder, with some success. The current was brisk, and Gwai was making fairly good progress down the river. It inspired her to break into song, but she quickly decided even birds and animals did not really want to hear her singing, so she settled for humming the song stuck in her head.

It was the middle of summer, and despite being in the water with a bit of a breeze, Gwai still felt overheated. She removed her socks and boots, and keeping a hand on the side of the small rowboat, jumped into the river, enjoying floating along in the cooler water. It was easier to steer the boat this way, also, as she was a fair swimmer, and the boat was small.

An all too familiar vague noise soon drove all thoughts of relaxation out of her head. The noise soon became a dull roar, and Gwai knew it had to be a large rapid, or even a waterfall. Her back still hurt from the last waterfall she had encountered, and that was with paddles, and an experienced partner. As she had no idea where Shivased was, it seemed the safer course to paddle over to the side of the river, scout ahead, and likely go around the waterfall rather than over it.

Still holding onto the side of the rowboat, Gwai paddled with her other hand to reach the shore, glad the boat was fairly small. This wouldn’t have worked with the Minnow. Her feet soon touched the ground, and she pulled the boat through the shallower water, and up onto the bank.

She felt no particular rush, and sat down next to the boat, the sun feeling much more pleasant now that she was wet. This was why she had worn linen, as it dried quickly. She debated about looking into finding something else to eat, as she did not particularly want to subsist on only berries for however much longer she was looking for the camp, but the idea of trying to spear a fish or fashion a snare held little appeal when blackberries were growing plentifully along the shore. She decided she would revisit the idea of looking for variety tomorrow if she hadn’t found the camp yet.

A bit drier, Gwai tugged her boots back on and set off downriver to investigate the waterfall. It was a fair size, dropping probably ten feet into a pleasant looking pool below. If she had a real paddle she would attempt it, but as she did not, and she particularly did not want to get her bedroll soaked, she decided to drag the boat around the waterfall. It would probably take her a half hour or so, as there were rocks on the bank and she would need to be careful, but it would not take all day.

She returned to the small rowboat, mentally thanked Bema it was small, and decided to cut a strip off her bedroll to use as a rope. The old sword she had found outside of Fangorn served this purpose, and although she would win no points for making the length of cloth even, it would work. She looped it through the small ring in the front of the rowboat normally used for a dockline, slung the ends over her shoulder, and began walking. She made a wider berth around the river than she needed to, in an effort to avoid extra rocks.

She whistled as she hiked, for at least five minutes before she began wishing she had risked her luck and taken the boat straight down the waterfall instead. Her hair was still damp, but it was quite hot out. It took closer to an hour for the detour, putting her in a grumpy mood, as she circled back to the river on the other side of the waterfall, looking forward to jumping back in.

[Aethelu]

Dicun and Elarith, messing about in boats

It didn't take long for them to find themselves back on the plains. After the night they had had, Dicun was glad to put the forest behind him. He was exhausted and achy, he had barely slept and when he had, he had been so tensed up on solid ground his whole body seemed to hurt. He could only hope the walk would start to stretch things out. As they walked, he kept looking around to see if he could see the camp somewhere in the distance, but so far there was nothing. For a while, they walked in a comfortable silence. Dicun had found Elarith to be a pleasant companion and he didn't entirely want to ruin it by saying or doing something stupid. At least, not more stupid than waving himself around trying to get caterpillars off him.

"So," he said at last. "how long have you been in the cavalry now? What made you join up?" He hoped she wouldn't find him rude asking personal questions as they walked. Now they had spent some time together, he felt more relaxed around her. He wasn't totally sure about things like ranks or seniority, she had been in the cavalry longer than him he knew that, but that seemed to be the only major difference between them. "Also," he began before she could answer, "how normal is this kind of exercise because I'll be honest, this is not at all what I was expecting when I finished my training!"

After a while they were heading towards the river once more. Dicun kept himself alert, trying his best to look in all directions to see if the orcs were nearby. He couldn't see anything so far, but that was not to say they wouldn't reappear. Hopefully they had kept on their march through the night and were now many a mile away from the them. Reaching the river bank, he put down the saddle and stretched out his back and arms. "I hope we're getting close," he said, rolling his shoulders forward and backward. "Or I hope we find a horse."

While there wasn't a horse in sight, there did appear to be a boat sitting on the edge of the river. From a distance he couldn't tell much about it. Moving closer...he still couldn't tell much about it. It was a boat, he was a farm boy. "Erm...you know anything about boats?" He looked across to Elarith, hoping she had more experience in this area. "The old man said the camp was near the river, downstream from how he was pointing, so maybe we could get there faster with this." Looking between the boat and the river, he took a moment to assess the situation. The boat looked big enough to carry them both, and the saddle. He couldn't see any obvious holes, and it had gotten this far on the river it seemed. There was the small fact that he wasn't the strongest swimmer Rohan had ever seen, but he would deal with that if he needed to. And he hoped he wouldn't need to. "What do you think?"

[Shivased]

At first struggling along the ravine was hellish. The mud that covered her weighed down her skirts, making it hard to walk regularly, never mind while injured. And using the spear as a crutch was even harder when with each step it sank into the mud. She cursed over and over as she struggled along, continuing to mutter under her breath about idiotic quartermasters and what in Bema's name was the king thinking? This was crazy! She genuinely hoped the rest of the Cavalry was having a better time than she was!

Giving up after about 30 feet she found a large rock and sat down out of the mud and contemplated her situation. She couldn't go on like this, her skirts were just too heavy and it was weighing her down so much she was struggling to walk. She had nails, she could pin the skirts up? They'd still be heavy, but at least would be out of her way. That might work. She tugged the bandage-wrapped mud ball that was the nails out of her mud-covered bag and began attempting to pin the skirts up. Halfway through she gave up and pulled it all out with a growl of frustration. That wasn't going to work. Short of taking off her dress and going naked, she wasn't quite sure what to do.

She was just considering actually going naked when her eyes fell on the spear and an idea came to her. Grabbing the weapon near the pointy end she poked it into a small hole in her skirt and tugged. The satisfied rip as the fabric separated made her grin. She moved the spear again, hacking the skirt off at just above the knee in a semi-straight line. The equally mud-covered shift under her skirts went next and soon her legs in the soft boots she was wearing were visible. So was the purple bruising creeping up her calf and the clear swelling protruding from her boot, but the relief she felt cancelled that out for a minute. It felt immediately better having the weight of all that mud and fabric gone, and she sighed in pleasure.

She revelled in the lost weight a minute more before standing up. The skirts fell to the ground and she limped away from them without a care. It wasn't like she was keeping the dress or skirts after this, the thing could stay there. Then, on second thought, she scooped it up and threw it over her shoulder. She had little enough supplies. If she ran across water she could wash the cloth, or use it as a blanket or covering from the sun. Whatever reason it might be useful.

Thankfully as she continued down the length of the ravine the mud dried up and she found herself on flatter, even ground that made walking much easier. And after a while she found the walls of the ravine growing shorter, until she came out at the end back in the open plain. She wasn't quite sure where she was, but it was better than where she had been. Or she was going to continue to tell herself that.

She was just about to find somewhere comfortable to sit to take a break and had walked a couple feet off to the side when the end of the spear hit something hard that hissed and growled at her! Jumping back she hissed herself when her bad foot impacted the ground, but had to ignore it and raise the spear defensively when two badgers popped out of the grass. Just great. Because what else could go wrong? Any orcs in the area? Host of wargs? she muttered and took another step back, forcing herself to move as evenly and slowly as possible. If she didn't appear threatening, the badgers would hopefully go away.

Sadly that wasn't to be, because of course it would go her way. With a growl the bigger of the two badgers charged, it's claws up for an attack. Moving quickly Shivased used the spear to deflect the claws before the badger could get close to her and threw it off balance so it stumbled to the side. The other badger attacked a second later. Realizing she still had the skirts on her shoulder she whipped the fabric off and threw it at the second badger even as she leapt back.

Unfortunately she'd temporarily forgotten her ankle and howled when the joint buckled under her and sent her reeling sideways. She slammed the end of the spear into the ground in an attempt to stay on her feet and felt it splinter with a loud ~CRACK~ and tumbled sideways. She kept hold of the weapon end of the spear and landed on her back just in time to deflect the first badger again, using the spear to catch it in the stomach and toss it a few yards through the air. Scrambling to her feet she saw the first one was struggling with the heavy muddy skirts and took the opportunity to skewer it, heaving the broken spear with all her might downward into it's body. It let out a screech and went still.

It was difficult to get the spear back out and Shivased struggled for a minute that, unfortunately for her, was a minute too long. She heard a growl behind her just as she got the spear out and whirled around, and felt a fiery slash of pain across her right leg. She fell on her back even as she brought the spear up again. By some miracle she got the spear up just as the badger leapt at her and stabbed it straight in the chest. The creature let out a scream similar to it's friend and fell forward. The animal was too big to catch or stop it's forward momentum so she found herself with a dead badger landing right on top of her.

The creature hit hard, causing her to grunt out the breath she had in a rush and send stars across her vision. Once her breath was back she tried to push at it, but the broken end of the spear had embedded in the soft ground next to her ear and the badger was weighing it down enough she couldn't budge it, even if she did have a better angle, which she didn't. She pushed ineffectively and even tried kicking her legs, ignoring the pain in her right one, before flopping back down with a grunt.

She tried again, pushing and kicking with her legs, then again, to no effect. If anyone was watching it would probably look as ridiculous as she suspected, her feet appearing over the grass, kicking around in the air and disappearing again. Very dignified for the First Marshal, to be sure.

Flopping down after the final try she gave in and accepted she wasn't moving. If the king wanted her, he would have to come find her. YOU HEAR THAT YOUR MAJESTY!? She screamed angrily into the air. YOU WANT YOUR FIRST MARSHAL, YOU CAN COME GET ME OUT FROM UNDER THIS STUPID, STINKY PILE OF FUR YOURSELF! She slammed her fist into the dead badger for emphasis. She was done with this. First falling and hurting her ankle, then having to walk across the plains, then the mud, and now these stupid badgers. And in one of her favourite dresses, that was now ruined, and without supplies! IF I DIE OUT HERE I'M COMING BACK TO HAUNT YOU!

[Thalionwen Hunigfolm]

Thalionwen and Grimm
BEST FRIENDS FOREVER

Thali was pleased. Her newly acquired Personal Aethelwigend Grimm made excellent company, as he mostly just held his tongue and listened as she prattled on about herbs and healing and the best way to saw off a leg and the difficulties of trying to simultaneously live in Rohan and Mor--Minas Tirith. He'd even let her braid his hair when they stopped briefly at midday. All in all, he was shaping up to be a perfect Best Friend #97.

The landscape had changed, becoming rock-strewn and uneven, and around midafternoon, they stopped once more, to sit briefly in the shade behind a boulder. Ahead of them, the earth sloped down into a ravine.

"So then you take the bundle of herbs and shove it up their--" Thali was saying, when she stopped abruptly and held up a hand. "Grimm! Sshh!"

Grimm, who had not said a word in four hours, continued on in the same vein.

But there was very definitely a faint sound of shouting rising up from the ravine. Putting her head on one side to listen, Thali's eyes went wide as saucers.

"That's MY MARSHAL!" she sputtered. "That's Shivased, and they've dumped her in the middle of nowhere too and now she's in trouble! I knew I kidnapped you for a reason, Grimm--come on, we've got an officer to save!"

For the first time since leaving the farm, Grimm looking marginally enthusiastic as he hurried along in Thalionwen's wake. The haelend gathered up the filthy skirts of her nightgown and pelted down the ravine, moving with remarkable dexterity for someone whose boots were three sizes too large. Rounding a rocky bend, she stopped short at the sight of Shivased, pinned beneath two very dead badgers and bellowing abuse to the sky.

Approaching, Thalionwen squinted down at Shiva.

"Westu...First Marshal...hal?" she said, somewhat uncertainly. "Do you need help? I've found a very large and useful Aethelwigend who could get those badgers off you, and I could get that boot off your foot, because by the looks of things, if it swells much more you'll NEVER get out of it."

[Eldrith]

With Aelflaed following the river


Ohh there speed had been amazing. The fight with the badger had been amazing. And by now the smell, a mixture of sweat and blood that could only be found either on battlefields or in kitchens before the actual cooking started and when the butchering was just done.

There was relief as they spied the camp, though at the inquiry of injury she shook her head.*

I am not, mostly thanks to Aelflad.. *because of the shield, her companion wasn't covered in blood as she was, though there definitely were some spatters on her shoes and legs.*
We encountered some dangerous enemies, lots of growling and hissing. And then an attack. It's a miracle we survived...
*She said it on a chuckle to make sure they were not worried. Accepting the supplies though, made her feel much better. A waterskin was one of the first things she always put in every outfitting when she was marching before. The sword however she left for Aelflad to take. With a nod of gratitude she said her farewells, and indeed followed downriver but stopped as soon as they were out of sight to discuss*

"Not supposed to say this" "not supposed to give us that" I am not sure, what do you think? It sounds.. somewhat suspicious. Then again.. what would they want us to learn on a training exercise? TO trust our brethren? Or to double check all information? Or to simply do as we are told without second guessing every bit of luck that comes our way as I tend to do?

((OOC@Fairy Nuff : hope you don't mind, you slayed that beaver!!))

[Amadhrill]

Éomund and Amadhrill and a wounded soldier

Ama laughed at the horrified look of Éomund, then did her best to stop so he would not think she made fun of him. «It was a joke, lad, I promise not to feed anyone raw potatoes.»

Somehow, after a lot of work, the soldier had managed to get on top of his horse, Éomund took hold of the lead rope and she walked by the side so as she would hopefully be able to see it before he grew faint. She could see that even the gentle movement of the walking horse gave the soldier pain as they moved towards the river, and her eyes glanced often up to see how he was doing. When they came down to the river she quickly fills the water skin again, for now the path was easy, but it could get rocky before they arrived at the camp, and a full water skin was always useful.

«What is your name and rank, soldier?» She asks gently.

«Dryhtguma Osbert at your service, hælend!» The soldier answers proudly, but with a tired note.

«And this is the direction you were heading in, correct?» Her head indicates the direction they are already moving in, she is pleased to see that Éomund seems confident about the direction. The dryht nods. «We can't have you falling off the horse and getting more injured, so if you feel the least faint you must tell us and we will do what we can to help you... Ah, there is the badger that attacked you...» She stops and pokes the dead animal with the sword, considering if it is worth bringing it along to eat it if necessary. Stooping down she lifts it up by the tail. Then she speaks higher, so that Éomund is sure to hear her over the river and sounds of the horse and their own feet on the grass.

«I think we should bring it with us, it hasn't gone bad and after all, food is food... Do you want to gut it or should I. We can use the sword, not ideal, but we should be able to cut it open and wash it, I guess.» She wasn't good at gutting animals, or cutting it in the right parts, it had never been her strength. But she could do a good enough job for them to have some fresh meat in the evening. «If we haven't found the camp when the sun starts to set, we should find what fire wood we can and then I am sure we can make a fire and get some grilled badger and roasted potatoes. And there are berries and herbs and edible roots all around here, if you know what to look for. We'll have a regular little feast, or at least eat... You or me, Éomund?» She held the sword in one hand and the badger in the other hand slightly towards him.

((OOC: @Dimcairien Luiniel I totally had to google to check if eating raw potatoes are dangerous, because when we were kid we used to eat the tiny potatoes raw when we went potato picking and no one told us it wasn't a good idea... good thing I survived, now I have to teach my kids NOT to eat raw potatoes.

[Elarith]

Elarith and Dicun, goin’ a-boatin’

“Yes, I hope that old man was right,” Elarith said to Dicun as they started walking. “If he’s not I have half a mind to hunt him down and throw those caterpillars on him. But I’d need about a week’s worth of sleep first.”

After such a rough night, Elarith was happy just to walk away from the forest without much talking. Her mind was foggy from lack of sleep so more in-depth discussions would’ve been beyond her. But Dicun asked about her Cavalry service, which didn’t take too much thinking about, so she was happy to answer. She barked a laugh when he asked if this was a normal Cavalry activity. “I mean, there were some interesting times back when, but I would say being stranded in the wilderness, running from orcs, having tack thrown at you by elderly men then a night of terror in the trees is all pretty new. Maybe this is why Cavalry numbers have been so low they’ve had to call on old hacks like me in the first place,” she said, wondering aloud.

“As for how long I’ve been in the Cavalry... “ Elarith paused and counted on her fingers. “Joined first off when I was maybe a few years older than you, then served about six years? So not as much as some. And I’ve only just come back after about ten years’ absence because circumstances finally allowed it. I’ve missed it,” she said, smiling. “I joined because my second brother joined and he used to come back and tell us all these tales that made me so envious. It just seemed like the greatest thing ever. It got to the stage where I wasn’t really needed around the homestead either, so I was free to enlist, and off I went. A familiar story, isn’t it?” she said, glancing over at the young lad with a grin. The tale he had told the previous day of his own reasons for joining the Cavalry had held similarities.

By the time Elarith had reeled all this off, they were alongside a river again. Was it the same river as before? It looked a little different but she was no watercourse expert. Dicun set the saddle down and commented about finding either the camp or a horse. “Either of those would be fantastic. Given our luck so far I’m not sure it’ll happen though,” she said, taking a drink from the waterskin to try to help shift her headache. She looked up and down the river as she drank, hoping they were well away from the orcs they’d encountered the last time. Slightly down-stream, on the bank, was a rowing boat. Dicun had spotted it too, and they went to investigate.

There was no one around, and it looked like the boat hadn’t been touched in a while. Elarith checked it over. It was old, but the wood still looked strong enough, and there were a couple of oars in the bottom. “Used to prat about a bit on the stream near home sometimes as a youngster, but it’s been a while,” she replied when Dicun asked if she knew anything about boats. She straightened up. “I think it’s sound enough. And I’ve had enough of walking. Let’s give it a go.”

[Fairy Nuff]

Aelflaed with Eldrith, continuing to follow the river

Aelflaed felt her heart soar as they rounded a turn in the river and saw a small camp - the Entwade - and the guards. Maybe they weren't far away! She watched Eldrith eagerly accept the water skin - well it would make it much easier if they had to leave the river. For her own part she tentatively accepted the sword, trying to unobtrusively test its weight and balance. Satisfied with the sword, she then began to puzzle over how she would carry both that and the shield..it would leave no hands free. She grinned at the rider and gave her thanks, then followed Eldrith further along the river.

They stopped to discuss. "I don't know what to think! You're right, and I think a rider who questions what is in front of them makes a good leader, but a rider who follows orders, makes a good soldier. I do think it odd to get a water skin at this point, if we have to follow the river still. If we stick to the river, the water skin is no more useful now than it was at the start. Heh, and I wonder why we need a sword now! It makes me a bit nervous about what is coming next!" she thought for a moment, "Why don't we carry on along the river for a bit, and see if we see any paths leading off? Any direction leading to somewhere like the camp will had horses travel over it both on the way to drop us off, and on the way back, and so there should be tracks. If we leave the river now there's nothing else to guide us."

She started off, hoping Eldrith would call her back if she wanted to go in a different direction. She suddenly felt antsy, like they were so close now and standing still felt wrong. She tried to spend some of that nervous energy by doing a few exercises with the sword.

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Allacan, Dryhtguma of the Eastmark, with @Éolath

It took a while after Éolath abrupt exit for Allacan to realise the source of his discomfort. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter so that he would not hear and become even more embarrassed, and dutifully beaded back along the river to collect the wild-garlic. And her trousers and boots, which she dutifully redressed herself with before she emerged once again from the tree-line.

When he returned with yet more provisions she congratulated him enthusiastically for his discovery, so focused on trying to make him feel comfortable that she did not properly heed the words he said about his recollection that a trader has once recommended these particularly rare mushrooms be consumed only one at a time. If her Hælend skills were less rusty, she might have recognised those instructions for the warning they should have been. But no-one was perfect, least of all her. In the last few years away from the cavalry in the far reaches of the Eastemnet her focus had been maintaining her fitness, dexterity and scouting skills, and there had been little use for apothecary and herbalism skills, let alone foraging of rare mushrooms not common near The Fold. So she willingly nibbled on a couple of the mushrooms - not a fan of the flavour but knowing the importance of breakfast in the wilderness, with a couple of washed leaves of garlic.

She pondered his concerns about wasting time on practicing with the makeshift throwing spears. “Oh we don’t have to wait around to do that. We can hunt while we go, so we are ready and armed at any moment something edible and moving might appear” she added, scratching her right cheek which had started to feel oddly numb. “It’ll be a good test of the horses’ nerves too; if they balk at a few spears thrown down the road ahead of them they’ll never make solid cavalry horses, and we likely don’t want to try riding them bareback if they are easily spooked. If they react well and we manage to flush out some food for midday meal, we can maybe try riding in the afternoon. It’ll be fun to ride pretty horses into camp” she finished with an oddly dreamy expression on her face.

An idea struck her as she smothered the fire. “Oh, here!” She said, running her fingers through the ash and then dragging them across her now surprisingly numb cheeks. “How do I look? Wild as a Dunlanding?” She laughed, before offering to paint Éolath face in a similar manner. “We’ll make a grand entrance into camp, see if we can’t convince some of our comrades that we aren’t wild people of the woods come out to haunt them.” She giggles with a mischievous air.

This decided, she stood up to go about gathering their supplies to leave and was overcome with sudden dizziness. “Woooo! Musta stood up too fast” she said, a little more foolishly than was necessary in the circumstances. Was she slurring? She thought she sounded like she’d been slurring, but her slowly growing sluggish brain confidently declared that she had not been drinking and therefore she must be mistaken. “I’ll gettus the fiyur wud” she said, most definitely not slurring and only drawling her words in the manner of someone who is only maintaining the faintest pretence of sobriety through sheer, pig-headed denial of the absolutely obvious. With an over-exaggerated half-wave/half-point at Éolath she spun on her heels and tried to walk away.

Unfortunately, her feet it seemed had other ideas, which might suggest it was an impressive manoeuvre for appendages that lacked an independent brain. However the obvious truth of the matter was that the one, functioning brain present in this particular body was sending increasingly absurd signals to its limbs, getting itself confused in its attempts to distinguish one extremity from the other. As a result, it appeared for a moment like she was waving her hands in the air in an attempt to walk herself forwards before her brain caught onto its error and redirected the command, lurching her feet forward suddenly.

She bounced off a trunk and swayed on her feet, considering the tree. “Thssss’tree accosstd me!” She said, turning to face said offending flora. “It salted... soleteded... ‘ssaulted me!”

She faced up to the unresponsive column of bark. “Amma... eyema... I’mma Drg.... drugghg... drygagu...drit... gumma... Amma... soldier of th curvery. Calvry. Carvery. Cavver... Amma soljrrr ‘ffthe rohan army, ‘lav you know! We don’t take no... no... wedontakeno... Éolath?! What we take none of? ‘sit tuppunce? Snot tuppunce. Worrisit ‘gen? Oh yeah, ah ‘member. Nunsense! Thassawon! We dun’t take no nunsense. So just you... go... leaf. leaf us alone. Hehehehe, djah gerrit? Leaf. Issa tree! Leaf it alone!”

She laughed, losing her balance in the process, and fell face first against the trunk, propped unsteadily against it with feet still planted on the ground, arms dangling uselessly from her slumped shoulders.

“Nowsee ear” she said, her words somewhat hindered by the fact she had half her face pressed firmly up against the trunk. “Thissss. Thisssere is ‘n’ carvery sectecide... exerise, sexerise-oops” she giggled like a child, then tried to compose herself and draw herself to her most intimidating height, which might have been impressive if she weren’t leaning at a harsh angle face first against a tree trunk. “This ‘ere is ‘n’ calvery mishun. So outta maway!”

She teetered, slowly losing balance, to fall sideways off the trunk and onto her back in the leafy under grown beneath the tree. “Thankoo” she declared happily to the tree.

“Djoo see me, Éol... Éolilly... Éolaaaaah! Ah showed im, dinta? Taught’m a f’rget they won’t lessonina hurry.”

Then her eyes caught sight of the beams of sunlight peeking through the foliage above and catching against the dust and pollen in the air. It cascades down like beams of fluid light, lighting up slowly dancing motes that shifted in the still morning air like gently circling dancers, quite hypnotic in her current delirious state. “Ooooooohhhhh” she cooed in wonder, awestruck. She tried to open her mouth to express to her comrade how beautiful and delightful the scene was, that he might be able to enjoy the spectacle himself. But she only managed to muster an even more enthusiastic “OooooOOOOooooh!” and lift her hands up in a futile attempt to grasp at the beams of light. And that, it turned out, was about all she was able to contribute for quite some time...

[Éolath]

Probably shouldn't have eaten the mushrooms with Allacan

“You’re too pretty to be Dunlending,” Éo muttered, chewing on his mushroom. His ears felt like they were burning. Would his entire head burst into flames, he wondered with a smile. Now that would scare the rest of the cavalry. “Soot, I need soot too if I’m on fire.” He turned his face up for Allacan to mark him as well, then popped another mushroom into his mouth. Chewed. It wasn’t nearly as bitter this time, it almost tasted good.

He turned as Allacan stood slowly, swayed. He frowned at her, then smiled. His face was moving, he could feel the muscles sliding under his skin. It tickled and he giggled. From a distance he heard Allacan’s voice, and he stood. So fast, up he shot until his feet hovered inches above the ground. He spun, floating until he could see his companion. She appeared to be having a discussion with an Ent. A heated one. Perhaps he could set the Ent on fire with his touch. Éo lurched forward, stumbled over a fallen log. How could he stumble if he wasn’t on the ground?

By the time he was able to find his feet his companion had fallen over. Clearly, she’d lost her battle and he needed to rescue her this time. “Horse! Horse!” He shouted dreamily. Where was that beautiful chestnut that would carry him to glorious battle? He spun again, the world kept spinning and he laughed. It was like a snowstorm, but all green and gold and …hot. Why on earth was it so hot? It shouldn’t be hot in a snowstorm. He was wearing too many clothes, that was the problem. And he was a wild man from the wood, they didn’t wear shirts. So he stripped his off, glanced down at his chest.

Too … boring, he decided. He was on fire! Stumbling, he found the fire pit, now nothing more than ash and blackened sticks. He coated both hands, smeared the resulting mess over his chest and belly. Much better. “Look, horsssh! I am on ffffire. I…will…burn…no’ yous. C’mer, horssh, we gots t’finisshh the miss…misshun. Gots to find…hey!”

He swung his leg over the horse, settled firmly into his saddle. “Whersh my ssword and spear?” He looked around, felt his head spin in a full circle. “Th’is. Got it.” He grabbed up his spear, dug his heels into his horse’s hard ribs. “C’mon, Dansher. Let’s fly.” They had to fly to rescue his friend and cousin. Where was his cousin? He spun around again, distracted by the gold and green swirls. “Don’t fall off, Dansher…I can’t catch you…” He wrapped his arms around the neck of his horse, smiled dreamily. “But you can’t fall off, Dansher, cuz I can fly. Oh, look. A bug. Look at all its legs…” Such a pretty bug, the light sparkling over its shell. Somewhere, so very distant, he heard a long “ooooooh”. He slipped to one side, kept his arm and leg over his horse and laid his head on soft grass. It would all burn, but for now he’d watch the bug.

[Dimcairien Luiniel]

Éomund and Amadhrill and a wounded soldier

Éomund sighed in relief when it was evident that Ama was only joking about the raw potatoes. He might not know much, but knew a little bit about growing basic food.

As they began to head down the animal trail, Ama asked the soldier his name and he introduced himself as Dryhtguma Osbert, though it was clear he was still tired. Éomund too was tired, but he hadn't nearly lost an arm, so he kept quiet."Do you think we'll find the camp today?" he asked the hælend. His entry into the Cavalry had been so rough. He wanted to get back to camp and then to Edoras so he could complain to his uncle about how ridiculous the Cavalry and how it was nothing like the glorious tales he had been told as a child.

They approached the place where Éomund had found the horse, they spotted the dead badger on the ground. Once again, Éomund shuddered at the sight of it. As Ama proceeded to poke it with the sword, she looked up and asked if they should take it with them. As much as he was tempted to shout "no!" (the thing looked gross), the growl in his stomach gave a different answer. Ama picked up the dead badger and held it in one hand with the sword in the other. She then asked who should be the one to gut the dead creature.

Éomund swallowed nervously. He had gutted small animals on the odd occasion, mostly when his mother had had the means to procure a small rabbit on special days, but nothing as large as this vicious creature. "I … I can try," he stuttered, though he had absolutely no idea how to do it with a sword. He truly had no desire to do anything to the badger, but it was time to try and do something for himself during this training event. His uncle was always encouraging him to stand up for himself and maybe this was something he could do to prove his worth to his father and the Cavalry. He grabbed the apple bag from the saddle bag and emptied the few remaining apples back into the saddle bag. The empty bag would probably be useful as he had no desire to carry raw, skinned meat anywhere.

Handing the lead rope to Ama, and placing the now empty apple bag over his shoulder, he gingerly took the badger and sword from her. The sword felt heavy in his hand and he realised that this was the first time he had ever held one, aside from a brief attempt to pick up his uncle's sword, which is mum had immediately stopped. Holding the badger by the tail, he walked down towards the river. Laying the badger on its back, he picked up the sword and began to carefully cut the skin off. Using a sword was far harder than using a knife due to its immense length, but for the most part he could manage, albeit very awkwardly. A long slit cut down the length of the badger, he pulled the skin to the side, revealing the innards and turned it over as the blood streamed out onto the ground. Éomund gagged at the sight, but somehow didn't faint this time, which was probably because it was an expected sight that he was prepared for. Blood drained, he began to finish cutting away the skin and transfer the usable meat to the bag. The sword proved to be unwieldy and it was all he could do to keep it in control. But right at the end when he was removing the skin from the final bits, his hand slipped and he felt the blade slice into his left palm. Biting his lip to keep from screaming out, Éomund clenched his hand into a fist as blood dripped out from between his fingers. He dropped the sword on the ground and stumbled towards the river, shoving his hand into the cool water. He watched as the water began to turn red near his hand. He began to breathe heavily and tried to remember to count as a way to calm down.

After a minute he came to his senses and realised that it wouldn't do him any good to lie here by the river watching his hand bleed into the water. He pulled it out, clenched it back into the fist, and picked up the bag of meat with his right hand, leaving the last piece on the floor. The sword too needed to be left for the moment.

Arriving back at the horse, he dropped the bag of meat, and with his hand still clenched, approached Ama. Hanging his head a bit he said, "I …I cut my hand on the sword." He held his arm out so the hælend could take a better look at it and bandage it up.

OOC: @Amadhrill (I think it's only in large quantities that potatoes can be dangerous raw. I don't know much about it, but recall being told to always make sure potatoes were thoroughly cooked. And the wound isn't a deep one, you've already put up with the kid enough, but he's clumsy, so naturally he would slice his hand open on a sword. I kind of want it to scar a little bit though.)

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Allacan, Dryhtguma of the Eastmark, with @Éolath

Allacan woke. At least, that was the closest descriptor she could think of for her sudden revival to alertness some time later. As an experience, it was lacking in the steady emergence back to sensibility one associated with sobering up from drink, so she could only describe herself as having awoken. She certainly felt like she had been dreaming something about liquid sunshine that washed over her like warm, comforting lava, which inclined her to believe she had been sleeping, but her eyes were red and sore and she had the distinct impression that if her stuporous state could be described as sleep, that she achieved it with her eyes wide open.

She tried to ignore her own pounding head and considered the lad, topless, chest coated in sweat-sticky ash. He lay in a more traditional looking sleep state (eyes definitely closed, even snoring a little, restful in a way that caused no alarm to the one-time-Hælend) beside a fallen log, one arm and a leg still sprawled half over it. He had moss stuck to his face that suggested at some point he might have tried kissing it. Or eating it maybe. She had long known the poor lad was in dire need of some humour and hilarity in his life, and it was an important lesson to learn that even the most lauded commander and hero could still suffer humility and vice. But she suddenly got the feeling that perhaps this time it had gotten a little too far out of hand. She truly hoped her foster-mother Firimar did not get wind of this particular incident!

Now she was thinking sensibly, she knew without a doubt their experience was due to the mushrooms; the littler ones that Éolath had identified as being an expensive rarity. She felt a wave of remorse that she had not recognised them earlier; she recalled now her time as Bealdorhælend reading notes left by Feawen regarding their intoxicating, delirium-producing qualities, but it had been so long ago that she had simply forgotten all about that. Right up until she experienced them for herself. Now she knew them without a doubt and was grateful she had only ingested a couple, although their given name still eluded her so she mentally nicknamed them ‘mischief mushrooms’. She also recognised the other mushrooms Éolath had gathered as much more innocent wood blewit, which would have been far more appropriate a breakfast in the circumstances.

She removed her boot and took off a sock, carefully gathered up the tiny mischief mushrooms (counting as she went, eleven remained) and placed them inside the sock. She tied the leg of the sock around her belt in a make-shift pouch and then washed her hands with water in the river before doing anything else. She started out by drinking deeply, which helped to soothe her pounding head. At her best estimation of how many remained compared to how many she recalled Éolath presenting last night, she approximated that he had ingested four, maybe five himself. Not enough to be dangerous to his health, according to Feawen’s notes, but certainly enough that he would not be waking any time soon.

They’d both bathed before breakfast, but it seemed the benefits from that had been somewhat muted by their drug-induced antics. Allacan wavered between leaving Éolath where he was to sleep off the mushrooms, or attempting to bathe and wake him. In the end, it was the foreknowledge of his impending embarrassment that settled her on leaving his to sleep it off and rouse naturally. She adjusted his sleeping position carefully to make him more comfortable and ensure he would not roll onto his back, extricated the log and moss from off his form, but settled for the less intrusive (and infinitely less likely to wake him) approach of laying his shirt over him like a blanket to protect him from the beams of sun that managed to break through the woodland canopy above. Then she left him there, with the water skin and the leftover graham crackers in close reach for when he woke.

She then made good use of the time available to her before he woke engaged in a number is tasks, regularly stepped away from her activities to check on Éolath and sometimes dripping a few drops of liquid onto his lips to stave off the worst of the dry-mouth he might otherwise wake with.

She began by gathering together and make a mental inventory of their supplies. She discovered Éolath’s gloves but left them with the lad, inspected his holey bucket and decided it was still sound enough to carry their gathered food supplies so the less damaged cooking-pot was free to carry extra water. She stuffed her pockets with dried grass and the detritus from her evening whittling to use as kindling, gathered a decent bundle of fire-wood. She cut some lengthy branches of supple greenwood down and stripped out the core to use as make-shift rope to tie the wood into a heftable bundle; it would hold some structural stability at least until the green-wood bindings dried out and became brittle, when they would likely snap. She checked on the horses, gave them a fresh brush down with dried grass and provided them with river-water with the pot. She tried singing a soothing song to them and discovered the other unfortunate side-effect of the mischief mushrooms; they temporarily robbed a person of the ability to speak in the immediate few hours after the delirium wore off - well *that* was going to be problematic!

She practiced throwing all four of the home-made spears, making minor adjustments to the leaf flights and whittled points to make them more effective. After both horses exhibited steady calm and slightly a curious interest in her spear-throwing she grew more confident in their potential as riding horses. She therefore gathered the grass-weaved ropes made by Éolath and equipped the horses with one each as a girth strap. She attached the ends of the lead rope to each side of the palomino’s halter and tossed it back behind her ears as short, make-shift reins and then led the horse to a nearby tree-stump where she started out adding weight to the horse’s back cautiously to test whether she was familiar with the feel of a rider, before progressing to mounting and dismounting. She eventually mustered to courage to ride the palomino in a few circuits of the flattened grasses the horses had grazed through while they rested, initially bouncing and wobbling uncomfortably on the mare’s back but growing more steady in her seat with each rotation. On her last ride around she flushed out a rabbit from the long grasses, but as too slow with her spear throw to catch it before it disappeared underground. Still, thanks to the notorious breeding of the creatures she could be confident that where there was one, there would be many more.

Emboldened by her unexpected success at bare-back riding and near-miss with a more tasty meal, she dismounted from the un-stealthy horse and sat a while in the quiet. With the four spears close beside her, she busied her hands making an attempt to mimic Éolath’s grass-rope weaving to try and design some sort of halter for the chestnut but lacked the technique and dexterity of the younger rider’s fingers. She failed to produce anything bordering on useful rope, but in truth her senses were focussed on the world around her, drinking in the peaceful summer day, listening for the sounds of Éolath stirring from his slumber and hoping for another chance at a coney or two.

The pair’s inventory;
- Two horses, both with grass-braided girth ropes but only one equipped with a halter and lead-reins
- A cooking pot
- A full water skin
- A holey bucket containing wild garlic and wood blewit mushrooms
- A dagger
- A sliver of flint
- Four make-shift throwing spears made from sticks and leaves
- A bundle of firewood tenuously held together by green-wood straps
- A sock-pouch containing 11 tiny mischief mushrooms (with Allacan)
- A pair of gloves (with Éolath)

[Shivased]

Shivased had stopped screaming and was instead lying under the badger muttering angrily to herself when she caught the sound of something moving towards her in the grass. Or away...or...well, it was something moving. That she knew. From her position she couldn't figure out much past that. She listened, but couldn't figure out much more, but given the sound was getting closer she assumed they were indeed moving towards her.The movement stopped and she sent a quick prayer they weren't coming any closer. Probably orcs. Or this badger's friends. That would fit my luck right now, she muttered to herself, then fell quiet and laid still. If she was lucky whatever or whoever it was would see the badger, decide she was dead, and move on. Then she could get herself out of this mess and go murder the king.

She was rather shocked when a familiar voice politely greeted her and asked if she needed help, explaining she had found a very useful aethelwigend. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at an uncertain looking Thali and a very confused looking Aethelwigend she recognized but didn't know the name of. She blinked and tried to reach a hand up to rub at her eyes but of course the badger was in the way. So she blinked again, then a third time for good measure. Yup, still there. Unless she had taken a hit to the head she didn't know about and was hallucinating and these were actually orcs....but they weren't eating her so they must be real.

Umm...yes, I'd like help. Please. she replied equally as politely as Thali, unsure how else to respond. If they were close enough to find her, they'd probably been close enough to hear her screaming about haunting the king. I...umm...had a bit of bad luck, she added as an afterthought.

Once the badger was off her she pulled herself to a sitting position, nodded her thanks to the Aethelwigend and gave the dead creatures a sour look. Now I'm going to stink of badger. She complained before looking down at her ankle then at Thali, some of her ill-humour returning as she contemplated how much it was going to hurt to have the boot removed. We really don't have to take the boot off. I'm fine the way it is. It's actually providing some nice support and preventing the swelling from getting too bad. I have some healing supplies. You can just bandage the claw marks and help me up, and we'll continue to camp. She found the bag still hanging on her shoulder and pulled out the supplies. The bandages and packet of needle and thread were still covered in half-dried mud and the pot of honey was cracked, but she hoped they would be enough.

She was waiting for Thalil to reply, most likely to insist the boot came of, when she noted Thali's clothes...or lack thereof... and something occurred to her. Where did you "FIND" an Aethelwigend? You look like you had even less luck than me and didn't get much in the way of supplies. Where does one "find" aethelwigneds? Also, where are your clothes?

[Amadhrill]

Éomund, Amadhrill, and Osbert (NPC)

«Do you think we'll find the camp today?» Éomund's words were her thoughts aloud. Ama glanced up at Osbert, who made as if to shrug, flinching from the pain in his arm.

«We have less then a day's ride left» Osbert answered between gritted teeth.

«I hope we do, but I will prepare and act as not. Should we not find camp before the sun starts dipping, we must prepare ourselves for another night in the open and make sure we have enough food and water for it, and preferably some better shelter then we had tonight. Less then a day's ride might still mean a few day's of walking...» Her voice was gentle, she meant not to frighten the trainee, but she needed to be realistic as well. What on Arda had the marshals thought, sending an untrained kid, young man she corrected herself, to survive on the Rohirrim plains without training. Had they even had a talk with him, seen if he had any skills that would aid him in this?! She would certainly have a talk with them, but after a good night's sleep and on a full stomach, then she could ask them politly and respectably, she would be hard pressed to do that now.

She was a little surprised that Éomund took the sword and the badger, yet inwardly he smiled, the man took responsibility when called to it. And there was a purpose in his way of moving about when he had the decided to gut the badger, the stutter had betrayed his unwillingness, yet the movements had purpose. Ama took the rope, «Thank you.» she added silently, grateful that he would do the dirty work. As she had expected, using the sword seemed to make it more difficult, but he did a reasonable good job. She glanced up at Osbert, who also seemed to follow Éomund.

Did the blade slide and cut him? She couldn't see as he shoved his hand into the river. Was it his blood or bood from the badger? Then he straighened himself, the left hand clenched, blood dripping from it, the other picking up the bag filled with meat. She slowly drew her breath, so it was his blood then, but it did not look to serious from his look. His head hung as he held out his left hand. The tired, sleep deprived part of her brain wanted to shout at him for not being careful, had it been her children at home she would have yelled. But here she was the hælend, remembering well her position even if the ranks and insignias had been removed when she was sat down in the middle of nowhere with a blindfold.

She took the lead rope under her arm, her face neutral as she took his hand and opened the fist. It did not look too deep, but was still bleeding quite a lot, and the water still dripping from his hand did nothing to help the impression of lots of blood. Ama took off her head scarf, and pressed it towards the cut. «Hold it firmly, you did well in rinsing it in water, Éomund.»

She went through the saddle bags and quickly found the half-empty containers of the left-over honey and salve. She opened up the salve, for now she would save the honey, the sugar in it might be useful to keep up the blood sugar if they did not reach the camp tonight, and the salve was also good for healing. Gently she lifted up the head scarf and could examine it better with much of the blood soaked up, it was a flesh wound, he had been lucky, even if quite a slice had been cut off, there was no apparent damage other than that. «This will sting.» She warned softly as she lightly dabbed the salve on the flesh wound, then she bound the head scarf tightly around his hand to stop the blood flowing.

«It will heal in time, you might get a scar, it is hard to say at the moment, but no lasting damage is done to the use of your hand.» She removed the lead rope from under her arm and gave it back to Éomund. Then she bent down and took up the bag of meat, waying it in her hand, before puting it in the saddle bag. «I'll fetch the sword. Well done carving up the meat.»

There was a faint note of tiredness in her voice, but she gave him an encouraging smile, as she passed him and found the sword. She took up the sword and carefully rinsed off the blood, drying it off afterwards with her tunic. When she returned, only the dark cirles around her eyes betrayed that she was tired, her steps light. «Let us move on. And no more accidents or wounds. Next one will loose their undershirt to bandages!» Her words were spoken half in jest, though there was a true worry in her words. «Do you know any edibles growing in this kind of terrain, Éomund? If you find anything edible, speak up and pick it up, we need to gather enough food to feed us.»

OOC: Poor Ama, she's got her hands full

[Taethowen]

Taethowen & Walpurga - In the Middle of Nowhere, About to Find Some Hope
Reconfigured supplies: A canoe paddle, bag of apples (minus a few). A heavy cloak missing a bit at the hem. A small knife. A piece of flint. Three wolf pelts.

Fortunately, the early morning was cool, and picking up their pace was easy compared to the challenge of maintaining their pace in the afternoon heat the day before. Taeth was pleased with the distance she and Walpurga were managing to cover, even if the pace meant they weren't able to converse much.

Not even two hours in, though, a welcome sound teased at Taeth's ears, and she stopped in her tracks. She holds up her hand, almost instinctively making the pæth signs for halt. hold. before she realized that Walpurga would have no idea what they meant, and so she just held up her hand. After a moment, she turns back to face Walpurga, a gleeful smile spreading across her lips.

"Do you hear that?" Taeth laughed. "There's water! Come!"

Taeth led the way, and while she was disappointed at the lack of anything taller than some berry bushes sprawling around the banks of the stream, she was grateful to have found clear, running water at all.

Quickly, the pæthfindian walks along the near side of the stream, observing what plants are nearby, and what creatures might have frequented recently. The stream appears to be about waist-deep, and she dips her fingers in. It's cool--unseasonably so--and she deduces that it must be spring-fed. Then, on the far side of the stream, she spots wagon wheel tracks, and lets out a whoop!

"We're headed the right way, Walpurga!" Taeth pointed out the wheel tracks to her companion, then sat down and pulled her boots and socks off. She stood again, and grateful that the Cavalry-issued tunic fell to her mid-thighs, she slid her trousers and underpants off. It wasn't much different than wear a dress, truly. "Walking around with wet pants is not fun," Taeth explained. "I'm going to cross the stream and see what I can find on the other side."

She glanced at Walpurga's blood and gore splattered clothing. "You might want to clean up while we have the chance," she suggested as she folded the clothing she'd removed and set them atop the bundle of wolf pelts, then balanced her boots on top of the stack. "And make sure to wash your hands thoroughly. I'm still worried about those scratches from the wolf's teeth. But I think we can rest and refresh for a while after that."

Taeth retrieved her bundled pile and clutched it to her chest as she stepped into the water, hissing at the cool bite of it. She was glad to find that she had, indeed, estimated the depth of the stream correctly, though she shivered as it nipped at her waist.

Once she reached the far bank, she set down her bundle, dried her feet off with her trousers, and slipped her socks and boots back off. She didn't want to explore with her feet unprotected. Taeth headed towards the wheel tracks, and then smiled as she realized there were also boot tracks, and that their treads matched what the Cavalry normally issued. Finally! she thought, and then turned back to the spring-fed stream. Then, something caught her eye in one of the nearby bushes.

Upon further investigation, it turned out to be a leather bag, and when Taeth opened it, it seemed as though the fate was smiling on them. It contained several things inside, but what was on top caught her attention.

"Oh blessed Bema!" Taeth exclaimed. "There's a comb in here!" She'd been trying to decide if she wanted to take a dip in the stream and clean off, but hadn't wanted to deal with the mess her hair would be afterward. But now... now it would be happening. Smiling, she snatched the wooden comb in hand, then held the bag up and shouted to Walpurga, "I found goods!"

[Éolath]

With Allacan

He woke slowly from the most absurdly vivid dreams he’d ever had. Colors, brighter than he’d ever seen before, had flashed in his mind, teased his eyes. He definitely didn’t feel rested and wondered momentarily if he’d been ill with a fever. Stretching, his fingers bumped into a rough, bark covered log and he opened his eyes with a start. This wasn’t his bed. He looked around wildly, calming a little as he recognized the small clearing. Éo rubbed his face, winced as his head started to throb. His mouth tasted sticky and bitter, and he took a drink from the waterskin lying near him.

What had happened? He gazed around in confusion. He’d eaten breakfast and then…flashes of fantastic and terrifying memory. Looking down, he stared at the soot on his chest, the bits of bark and moss on his trousers. He’d…dreamed?...of riding a flying horse while on fire. A thought crossed his mind. Those mushrooms, the expensive ones. Ha they caused this? Not expensive because they were so tasty and hard to find, but because they made you feel so … weird?

“Allacan?” He tried to call for his companion but no sound came out. He grabbed his throat, jumped to his feet and tried to shout. Nothing. Was he still dreaming? But no, she sat there, braiding a rope…silently. Scrabbling towards her, he shook her shoulder, tried futilely to speak. Eyes wide with panic, he waved his arms in the air.

Her smile calmed him a little, until she pointed to her own throat and shook her head. “NO!” he tried to hell, but again, nothing. Gulping, he paced off, waved his arms again then kicked the log that had been his flying steed only a few hours before. When he turned again, Allacan was leading her horse out and pointing towards the river. He scowled, looked around the camp. Clearly, she had recovered faster that he had and had set most of the camp to rights.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. Mimed something about rinsing off and stomped down to the river’s edge to rinse away the sweat and some of the ash from his chest. His shirt was filthy, streaked with soot and grass stains, but he put it on anyway. Back at camp, he gathered up his spears and studied the chestnut horse. He didn’t really want to walk, his head hurt too much. But he also didn’t want to fall off, that would hurt more. Grumbling, he braided up a quick halter and leading rope, watched as Allacan mounted her palomino and smiled. Leading the horse over to the log, he slid his leg over slowly. When the horse only stood quietly he let out a relieved breath.

He walked around the camp a couple times, tucking his feet into the girth for balance then dismounted. Éo braided another length of grass, tied the bucket and cooking pot to it, then slung it over the horse’s shoulders. Glanced around to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, then mounted again. Allacan led the way, and despite his worry over his lack of voice, he followed her willingly.

The lack of conversation was odd to him. It was easy to get lost in his own thoughts, lulled by the thumping hoofbeats and birdsong around him. Even alone, he mused, he generally always chattered. He’d talk to his horse, or the project he was working on, or just to himself. The lack of voices made him nervous, and yet…the silence was not entirely silent. It was almost nice.

The rabbit that jumped out startled him, nearly had him flailing off his horse. The chestnut stopped still, glared balefully at him over his shoulder. Éolath squeaked in surprise, the first human sound either of them had made since the morning. Allacan, more alert, stunned the rabbit with a cast spear and was able to catch and kill it before Éo realized what happened. He grinned sheepishly at her, gave her a thumbs up as she led the horse forward to find a place to remount.

Éo pointed towards a copse of trees in the distance. Surely there would be a tree down there that Allacan could use. It wasn’t all that far off, they were making good time today. The horse was the warning of an ambush, throwing up his head and snorting. When humans, armed and grubby, stepped out instead of rabbits, Éo froze.

“You want past, you gotta pay us a toll,” the one in the middle stated. “That nice lookin' golden horse will do. And any coin you've got. We'll take that too.”

Éo scowled. Tolls? There were no tolls in the Mark. He shook his head. Allacan stepped up beside him, and both lifted their spears as the men hefted swords.

“What’s the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue?” The shortest one sneered. Éo made a face at him, sticking out his tongue. He didn’t realize that his face was still smeared with ash, and that the face he made had him looking more than a little deranged. The other man looked at Allacan, considered. “Leave the horse, and any coins and we wont hurt you. Though what a pretty lady like yourself is doing with a freak like that is beyond me. You could join us…”

Éo slipped off the horse, scowling. Held his spear out like he’d been taught and shook his head. Pointed at Allacan’s horse, shook his head. From the corner of his eye, he could see her doing the same. Then, with a grin, he pointed to the sock tied to Allacan’s belt. She followed his gaze, shook her head firmly. He nodded, pointed to the men then at the sock full of mushrooms.

“No.” He could read the word on her lips, but no sound came. He grinned again, turned towards the men. Raised his hands to his lips like he was eating, then smiled hugely and rubbed his belly. Pointed at the sock. Then pointed at the palomino, scowled and shook his head. Pointed at a bruise on his forearm, then the horse and mimed biting himself.

“He’s moon-mad,” one of the men said. But the middle one tilted his head curiously. “I don’t want a biting horse,” he muttered. “And they don’t look like they have a stitch of coin between them, and we do need food. Let’s just kill them and take the …whatever is in that bag.”

Éo squeaked, shook his head. And with a surprising speed, snatched the sock from Allacan’s belt with a triumphant grin. He shook it, mimed eating again and rolled his eyes in apparent ecstasy. Then he offered the bag to the leader of the bandits. Pointed at him, then at his mouth, nodding happily. Warily the man stepped forwards, took the sock with a look of disgust. Opened it and glanced in.

“Mushrooms,” he reported to his companions. “Probably poisonous.” Both Éo and Allacan shook their heads. Éo reached for a tiny one, popped it into his mouth and pretended to chew. The men watched him for a minute, then split the remaining mushrooms between themselves. Éo turned to pet the chestnut, managed to spit out the mushroom without the bandits seeing it. He didn’t need to start flying again. He tucked it into a fold of his shirt, then turned to watch.

It didn’t take long. First their eyes went soft, then dreamy. Éo’s tongue tingled, and he hastily rinsed his mouth with water from the skin. The bandits dropped their swords, holding their hands out as if they’d never seen fingers before. One wandered towards the woods, stopping to stare at a piece of grass. Another fell flat on his back, waving his feet in the air. The third walked towards the horses, and the big chestnut knocked him over and stood on his shirt.

Éo looked at Allacan, put his hands together as though they were tied then pointed at the attackers. Raised a questioning eyebrow. She shook her head and he shrugged. He was going to get one of the swords, at least.

The pair’s inventory;
- Two horses, both with grass-braided girth ropes but only one equipped with a halter and lead-reins
- A cooking pot
- A full water skin
- A holey bucket containing wild garlic and wood blewit mushrooms
- A dagger
- A sliver of flint
- Four make-shift throwing spears made from sticks and leaves
- A bundle of firewood tenuously held together by green-wood straps
- A sock-pouch containing 1 tiny mischief mushrooms (with Allacan)
- A pair of gloves (with Éolath)
-Scavaged items from the bandits

[The Good Hunter]

Taethowen & Walpurga – Getting Closer to the Edges of Nowhere

The going was quiet, but it was good. Much like the day before, Walpurga and Taethowen were setting a good pace (despite Walpurga’s lack of boots) in the early morning. Indeed, since breaking camp, the two had made even better time than the day before. Taethowen took the lead, using her pæthfindian skills to keep them from going in a giant circle and getting even more lost. As time wore on, Walpurga began to suspect that Taethowen knew where they were, perhaps not an exact pinpoint, but she was much more familiar with the area now. Her movements seemed much more confident and surefooted from Walpurga’s perspective. She smiled inwardly. She had been given an amazing partner in this training exercise.

A few paces ahead of her, Taethowen stopped and made some gestures that Walpurga couldn’t interpret. Worry seized her, were there enemies about? Her fists tightened and raised to her chest. They hurt from the wolf attack, but she could still use them. The moment passed though. Walpurga heard the sound a heartbeat before Taethowen shouted to her. Water! The bubbly sound was like a balm to her sore feet (in truth Walpurga was far more worried about her feet than she was about her hands). She ran to the little stream and, though her partner seemed a disappointed by the foliage, immediate stuck her feet in the water, cloth and all. She let an audible sigh of relief as the icy water rushed over her tired, aching feet. It felt so good! The waters washed away the exhaustion and the soreness, numbing her feet as she dipped them in and out of the water. Taethowen, for her part, did not immediately jump in the water and start splashing around (though the image did dance around in Walpurga’s mind for more than half a second). From Walpurga’s vantage point, the pæthfindian seemed to be scouting ahead. Didn’t she ever take a break? She sat on the water’s edge for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling her feet out and rewrapping them with an exaggerated sigh. If her partner wasn’t going to sit down and enjoy the stream then apparently neither was she. Walpurga would not have it said that she lazed about playing in a stream while Taethowen was actually completing her tasks.

She was up and ready to… do something, Walpurga realized she had no idea what the pæthfindian was doing and there was very little she could do to help. Even back home, Walpurga was hopeless when it came to finding things trackers found with ease, indeed she once went chasing after one of her mother’s pigs and get lots for half a day trying to find her way back. She was very, very glad she was not on this training exercise alone. She would have ended up in the Shire if left to her own devices.

It was in this bit of day dreaming that Walpurga completely lost what Taethowen was saying and turned to see the woman without her pants! Walpurga blushed crimson and turned suddenly, hiding the tiniest smile.

“Yeah,” she coughed over her shoulder and looking down at her own blood stained clothes. Her hands mind have been the worse for wear, but her clothes looked like she had been through at least half a bloodbath. “Yeah I’ll, ah, I’ll see what I can do about that.” She hastily followed Taethowen across the stream, though not having the Cavalry issued tunic, she elected to keep her pants on, despite the difficulty she might have later in walking.

She did wash her hands in the stream. The ice cold water did not feel as good on her hands as it had on her feet. The cold numbed her hands but she could still feel the cuts from the wolf teeth. She doubted any infection, but it did not hurt to be careful and of course, she had to obey her commander.

On the other side of the stream, Taethowen seemed to have found something of great import, if her shout of glee and acclamation were anything to go by. Walpurga trudged across, dragging herself through the cold water until she reached the other side.

“What have we got here?” She tilted her head to side, her thick mane of black hair tumbling to one side as she did. “Someone leave that for us you think?” She looked with mild suspicion at the bag. It was Bema-sent, or at least it looked that way. But Walpurga was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Taethowen found a comb, to which she seemed very amenable too, for her part she knew her own hair must look like a rabid badger’s den but she was willing to let it sit or a little longer.

When she dug through the bag, she found a clean shirt and a few water skins she could refill (thank the Mearas she could wear her boots again). She hurried pulled it out and, as quickly as she could, removed her blood soaked shirt and exchanged it for the clean one. It was a bit smaller than her shirt, but it was better than something caked in wolf blood. She filled the water skins, emptied her boots of the last bit of water and fit them on, and returned to Taethowen’s side.

“I’m sure there’s more in that bag, but I think we can look as we walk, what do you say?”

[Taethowen]

Taethowen & Walpurga - At a Spring-fed Stream, though still in the Middle of Nowhere

"Perhaps we were supposed to have it all along," Taeth replied. "Maybe it fell out of the wagon as we were transported."

Taeth shook her head as Walpurga's black hair slid to one side, once more eerily reminiscent of Frost in both action and... appearance. Walpurga dug a clean shirt and some water skins out of the bag, and Taeth tried not to stare too much as her thoughts started whirling again.

Walpurga handed the bag back to her, and Taeth took it with a smile which turned somewhat pinched in appearance. She followed slowly behind the younger woman, clutching the bag to her chest, eyes falling to the ground as she pondered things. Surely not. I must be mistaken.

However, it all kept coming back to the fact that she knew entirely too little about Frost, for as much more as she knew she knew about him compared to nearly everyone else.

Walpurga's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "I'm sure there's more in that bag, but I think we can look as we walk, what do you say?"

Taeth looked at the sky. "Hm, we have some time before--hours, really--before high noon, since we got started so quickly after dawn. Let's rest a bit. I'd like to comb and re-braid my hair, and look through the bag. There might be something useful in there before we head out again."

She returned to the stream, then, and found a spot where she could dip her feet without sitting in a puddle of cool water. She gave a wistful sigh, and hoped that she could convince Frost to give her another foot massage when they finally got back to Edoras. Surely he could manage that much, even with sore ribs.

Then she set the leather bag in her lap and started going through the contents. It seemed that the shirt Walpurga had swapped out was the only clothing item, but that was fine. The three water skins had taken pu the most space, apparently, but tucked inside a pocket, Taeth spied a leather-wrapped bundle. Curiously, she pulled it out and opened it, and smiled when she saw it was a hælend's kit, if a bit sparse. But there was ointment, at least, and when she opened it, it smelled of yarrow. "Walpurga!" Taeth called as she replaced the lid, then tossed the tin to her companion. "Rub that all over your hands!"

Then she retrieved the comb, set the bag aside, and began to work through the gnarled mess of her hair. Less than an hour later, after working the knots out, rebraiding her hair, and redressing fully, she checked to see that Walpurga was ready, and the two continued on their way. They were a bit more heavily laden than when they'd started--well, if you didn't count the turkey--but their bodies were refreshed, and judging from the wagon tracks and boot prints they now followed, it seemed they were finally heading in the right direction.

Reconfigured supplies:
a canoe paddle
a bag of apples (minus a few)
a heavy cloak now missing a bit at the hem
a small knife
a piece of flint
three wolf pelts
a leather bag
a wooden comb
a few water skins
a clean shirt
a very basic hælend's kit

[Shivased]

FIFTH UPDATE

Gwai
Your trip around the waterfall, while hard and time-consuming, saves you from serious injury or death. Once back in the water the current picks you up again, and you are soon floating down the river. In just a couple hours, near mid-day, the sound of voices and horses and smell of campfire reach you. A shout from the shore catches your attention. There is a Dryhtguma there, and once he sees he has your attention, throws a rope out to you! Congratulations, you've reached camp! If you can catch the rope, he can pull you into shore. Otherwise you can paddle in yourself. There, you will find bedrolls, haelends, food, water, and possibly other people who have found their way as well. (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

Rowena
You remain on the shore, having not made any progress. After a while, the sound of hoofbeats signals the arrival of a Cavalry patrol. "Hail, ma'am. I'm here to take you to camp!" The Dryhtguma leading the patrol seems confused. "You didn't make it far, so we have quite the ride ahead of us." he tells you. "I'm not sure we'll make camp tonight." He gestures to a horse held by a member of the patrol. "We're ready when you are."

Amadhrill and Eomund (Dim)
Despite your troubles with the sword and the difficulty of keeping a wounded man on a horse, you travel fairly well and quickly and by mid-afternoon you can smell the scent of wood smoke. You've found camp! You arrive to find a fully set camp with a haelend's tent, two campfires, bedrolls and food. The wagons that transported everyone and several horses are tied to a picket line. As you arrive you are approached by an Aethelwigend. "Welcome to camp!" he tells you, then stops when he gets a good look at you. "The haelend tent is set up, there are supplies and we brought some assistant healers if you want, ma'am" he says to Ama. "There is food and drink for both of you, and perhaps the trainee would like to clean up at the river or get some rest?" he adds to Eomund. (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

Dicun (Aethelu) and Elarith
You hop in the boat and sail down the river. The current is constant and easy, and you make good time. You even spot another boat in the distance! It looks like you aren't the only one cruising the river right now! As you catch the scents and smells of an encampment ahead you hear a shout and a Dryhtguma waves from the bank. You found camp! The Dryht throws you a rope that, if you catch, can haul you into shore. Otherwise you'll have to make your own way in. Once in camp, you find the other boat is also ashore, and contained Gwai. You are greeted in camp with haelends, food, water, bedrolls and supplies. (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

Allacan and Eólath
Your creativity in dealing with the bandits works spectacularly and not only do you get a sword off one, but you see horses with saddles standing in the trees. You can continue on bareback if you want, or take their saddles. From there, your journey is relatively easy as you ride down the river and by late afternoon you find yourselves at camp! True, you're on the opposite bank so you'll have to cross, but the river runs smooth and not too deep here, so it should be an easy swim for the horses. Once at camp you're greeted by an Aethelwigend, who informs you that there are haelends, bedrolls, food, water and that some of the others in the exercise have arrived. (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

Thalionwen and Shivased
You have minimal supplies to deal with injuries, and still a considerable way to camp. Just when things seem impossible you hear the pounding of hooves and a Cavalry Patrol arrives! "Greetings, ma'am!" The Aethel in charge declares, though he wilts a bit at the sight of the First Marshal injured, a haelend in a nightdress, and an aethelwigend he knows was leading a patrol now with them. "Umm....I'm here to make sure you get to camp, but I have to go round up the others, if I can find them. I'd give you a horse but we have none to spare." He tries to sound optimistic. "You're almost there. Another hour or two of walking towards the river, and you'll come right to it!" He swallows nervously, then holds out a pack. "Water, and some clean bandages. It's all I have, I'd give you more if I could!" Without another word he spurs his horse and the patrol rides away, leaving you there alone. At least you know where the camp is now...( you have a bit of a ride, but assume you find camp! Congrats!)

Taethowen and Walpurga (Frost)
Hopefully refreshed by what you have found in the bag and your short rest, you continue on and soon hear the sounds of an encampment. A patrol is just riding out and pulls up as they reach you. "We were just heading out to find people!" the Dryhtguma leading the patrol tells you. "You've found us though, so head on into camp!" He points to where the sounds of camp are coming from. "There's food, water, and some others have made it. We'll bring in the ones who haven't!" (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

Aelflaed (Fairy) and Eldrith
You choose to follow the "not supposed to tell you this" directions you are given at the Entwade and they turn out to be correct! By mid-afternoon you find yourself arriving in camp! You are greeted by an Aethelwigend who waves you in. "Good job finding us! I hope you didn't have too hard a trip?" he enquires. "There is a haelend if you require, food, bedrolls, water....you can relax now that you're here. We're just waiting for the rest on the exercise to arrive, though some have already!" (You've found camp! RP your arrival and what you do now that you're here! Note: you cannot leave camp unless given permission by a marshal)

CONGRATULATIONS! Everyone has arrived at camp! EVEN THOSE WHO WERE...STRUGGLING....HAVE MANAGED! From here, we're breaking into a bit of a free RP for a bit. There will be updates in a couple days with what is happening, but enjoy reaching the end of your ordeal. Eat something, get water, rest on the bedrolls, bathe in the river, or see the haelends if you need to. Enjoy being in camp!

[Eldrith]

Thank Bema... *she muttered as they were greeted by an Aethelwigend and offered a welcome. She actually cut him a look when he offered food, bedrolls and water. Was that a barb to the fact that she stank of beaver blood. Well... Taking a breath she realized it really wasn't. It was a welcome and a kind one at that. So instead she offered him her gratitude before walking past. She smiled at Aelflad, then chuckled and then... actually laughed as they walked into the camp, shaking her head at the state of her and the fact that they had actually DONE it.*

Well.. that was an.. adventure wasn't it? I am not sure if I am going to sign up for more if I can avoid it. And I hope to not see a badger for quite a while. Thank you.

*that, definitely was heartfelt. She wasn't sure how she'd handled the badger by herself with just a knife, and your shieldwork had definitely helped her out when she was in a rather difficult position. If they hadn't been so pressed for time, and preferred NOT to carry along a bleeding beaver carcass, she might have brought it along to have a hat or a stole made from it in the riddermarket. Some scavengers would have no doubt found an easy meal from it by now.*

Now ehm.. let's go find some of that water? And preferably some soap as well. This isn't a good look for the quartermaster. People are going to wonder what I will put in my pots..

*She looked around to see if others had arrived, not quite sure who had all been part of the training exercise and somehow.. still somewhat suspicious. Especially at the admonition not to leave camp. Leaning closer to Aelflad she murmured underneath her breath*

I am going to give you that knife to keep close. And quite possibly we should be seeing if we can get something more.. just.. in case.