Edoras Burnt - Firefighting RPG (Open RP)

Where now are the horse and rider? In here, probably.
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Thalionwen
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary


Casting about herself as injured folk converged from all sides in response to her call, Thali took a deep breath.

Time to be that other Thalionwen now--the calm one, the healer. The one who knows what she's doing.

Scanning those who were being brought to her, Thali took stock in an instant. An old woman set down near the steps, obviously capable and in no great pain, given how she set about tending to herself. She could wait. A dwarf, bleeding from an injury to the head. More pressing, but not most serious of all. Worst was the unconscious woman who'd been carried in and left, without even so much as a name.

The dwarf woman was nearest, and Thalionwen reached out to take her hand.

"I'm Thalionwen Hunigfolm," she said, her voice firm and reassuring. "You've been brought here because I'm a healer, and you've had a blow to the head. There are others worse off who I must see to, though. I need you to wait, and to stay awake, but keep absolutely still. Do you understand? No nodding off, and no moving about. I'll send someone to wait with you and ask your name in just a moment."

Without giving the dwarf woman (Amethyst) time to reply, Thali scrambled to her feet and hurried across the little span of her makeshift, open-air infirmary, to where a older man knelt at the side of the unconscious Rohir woman, shouting for help.

"I'm here," Thali assured Grimthain, as she knelt at the stricken woman's side. "You're Cavalry, yes? Grimthain, I think I heard your name was. I'm Thalionwen--I serve as haelend in the Eastmark, though our paths haven't crossed yet. If you're willing to help, Grimthain, I could sorely use the assistance. Do you see the dwarf gentlewoman over there?"

She gestured to where Amethyst still lay, dazed and blinking in the commotion.

"She's had a bad blow to the head," Thali went on. "I need someone to sit and talk with her so she doesn't lose consciousness again, and to keep her from moving at all until I can get back. But you're right in calling for help--this woman needs me first. The sooner you can do as I ask, the better--moments count on nights like this."

Without waiting to see if she'd be obeyed, Thalionwen turned to the woman before her. It wasn't only for the sake of the dwarf-woman that Thali had urged Grimthain to leave--she'd seen patients like this before. Skin gone cold and grey, breath no more than a thread, heart beating fainter than a bird's within them. The look of death, was how Thalionwen thought of it. And the trouble was, if someone died on your watch, they stayed with you forever. They became your burden and your ghost until someday you passed yourself.

Thalionwen of the Eastfold did not let others take on ghosts if she was there to do so. So she urged the old Cavalryman away and fixed her full attention on the nameless woman. All the world faded as Thali took her hand. They were nearly of an age--likely she had family, this unfortunate soul, and when the hell of this night had ended, it would fall to Thali to find them, and inform them of their kinswoman's fate. But for now, there was only this--a cold hand caught in her own, as Thali offered up all the love and warmth and peace she had within her, hoping it would ease the act of passing into whatever lay beyond this life. It didn't much matter to her who a person was, or how they'd lived--every soul deserved someone with them as they passed, and sympathy and kindness at the end.

A breath.

Go gently, now.

A breath.

Just like we all practice each night. Let this be no more than falling into a welcome dream.

A breath.

And take this sorrow of mine with you as you go, my lost one. Bear it out of this life and before whomever turns the tides of our world, so that in witnessing it, they will pity us. Let them be moved to mercy, and look more kindly upon the children of Men because I sit and grieve over your passing.

A breath.

.....stillness.

Reaching out, Thalionwen felt for the beat of a heart she knew had stilled forever. Swallowing back a tightness and a burning in her throat, she got to her feet before the full weight of yet another death could settle in.

There were things to do yet. Thalionwen the healer never had the luxury of grieving in the moment sorrow struck.

Gathering up her skirts, she moved swiftly to where Grimthain sat at the dwarf woman's (Amethyst's) side.

"Now then," Thali said, almost brightly, the perpetual cheer she'd learned to wear masking what had happened. "Let's see about this head wound. Do we have your name yet, milady? Pity about all the blood--this was such a lovely gown and headdress. There will be others though, and other parties, hopefully with a less fiery end than this."

@Elarith @Allafyrefleorhtlig @Eléowyn
Last edited by Thalionwen Hunigfolm on Sun Aug 23, 2020 4:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Bealdorhaelend
Proud member of the Eastmark
Lead Healer, Edoras Infirmary
Shopkeeper, Cwep Ciese

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Residential District
npc: Athelstan

Athelstan and Amhran's wagon of water had not technically been needed to put out the main blaze; that was not the point. Wamba, Calimir, and Malachite had things well in hand before ever they got there, but even latecomers to the party might have some usefulness and the two of them patrolled up and down the fire break with the sopping horse blankets, beating down the small fires that broke out in the piles of rubble, rinsing the blankets in the wagon bed as they became dry and soot-clogged before hauling them out again. The water in the wagon was already tarry, but there was no help for it; anything wet was good enough. The Sulhhandlas' faces were grimy and smudged, and Amhran's skirt had risen six scorched inches when a spark had set her and a pile of shingles alight before her husband extinguished them both with a well-aimed swat of the dripping blanket.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Keep at it.

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Lailyn, After-Party Tent
“Well done, both of you!” Lail exclaimed with immense relief to Laewyn and Shadowfox. “Thanks for the help.” If they could see her beneath the cloth tied around her face, she’d be smiling.

She clapped her friend on the shoulder. “That was quite the dance, Shadowfox...it’s a good thing you have quick feet.”

The immediate problem of the tent fire was solved, but as another rumble of thunder sounded overhead, Lail looked toward the city. Her instinct told her to get to the city as fast as possible, but then she remembered her cousin (Nymlac) passed out somewhere on the ground. She couldn’t just leave him there.

“I’ve got to find my cousin,” she told Shadowfox and set off in search of him. But he was not where she left him. Assuming he’d woken up and stumbled away, she set off for the city, though she felt uneasy not knowing where he'd gone.


Lailyn, onto Residential District
To her horror, houses were on fire. She could only hope that the occupants had safely escaped. When she saw some clever people were hard at work tearing down houses ((Calimir, Wamba, Malachite), she opted to help however she could. She might not have the tools needed to help, but she could move away the wood to prevent more fuel being added and allow them to work more quickly.

She walked up to the dwarf (Malachite). “Keep tearing it down as fast as you can,” she told him. “I’ll clear out the wood as you go!”


(@Aodh Hammerhelm)

Nymlac, Field near After-Party Tent to Pop-Up Infirmary
By the time Nymlac stirred upon the grass where Lailyn had left him, the tent fire had been put out. As he sat up, everything around him spun. Taking up his cane, he pulled himself to standing and took a few wobbling steps around in a circle.

Fighting the dizziness, he promised himself not to drink so much again (one that had been made many times before) and as he finally stood up straight, he saw the fires glowing in the city. He bent over and lost some of the contents of his stomach. Which was mostly whiskey.

It felt as though he reached the city within seconds but when he got there, he stumbled to his knees and nearly landed in a bucket of water. “Am thirsty…” he mumbled. After rinsing the vomit taste from his mouth, he promptly passed out again.

Someone came along and deposited him at the Infirmary obviously unaware his semi-conscious state was completely unrelated to the fires and entirely to do with his own stupidity.

( OOC @Allacan ob Burzum - was not sure what color to make Nymlac since he's being totally useless anyway but I used black for his final destination. @Thalionwen Hunigfolm - do absolutely whatever you want with Nymlac he's at the end of the line for healers! )

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Residential District (NPC Beda)

The embers falling from the sky seemed endless, but Beda dutifully chased each down that she could reach. She felt her part in the firefighting was insignificant compared to the grown-ups toting bucket after bucket of water, or those putting axe to timber to make the fire break. But she was proud nonetheless that she could help in some small way. She could not wait to tell Mam how she had helped.

Her concentration on her task was such that she was not aware of where she was, only what she was doing. Watch the sky, chase the spark. Watch the sky, chase the spark.

For a moment there was a break in the fire raining from the sky, so at last she looked around to get her bearings. To her surprise, she found herself in the row of ramshackle cottages on the edge of Auld Town near the wall. Her home was along this alley!

Her throat tightened and a slow panic began to rise from her chest. As she peered down the dark row, lit only by the fire that illuminated the entire sky over Edoras, she saw smoldering smoke rising from the void where her house should be. She tried to scream, but the air was so thick only a choked whisper came out.

It took only a few seconds to cover the distance to the ruins, but to Beda it felt like she was trying to walk through a wall of thick honey. All of the sounds around her--the screams, the barked orders, the clunk as axe hit wood—were all muted. She heard nothing but the thud as one final timber fell into the smoldering pile.

Then suddenly everything came to life around her again, and she was aware of many people working nearby. Of course, Mam and the bairns would have long left for safety, she told herself. She only needed to find them.

“Hello, anyone!” she called into the air. “Anyone! Has anyone seen my mam, a woman, that is, with five little ones with her? One would have been a babe in arms. Anyone? Please, has anyone seen them?”

(OOC: @Aodh Hammerhelm @Wamba_the_Fool @Calimir @Amhran @Lailorn : Tagging folks working in the area, if you have any info to share with Beda. @Bereth : Not sure if you’ve made it back to this area yet. @Thalionwen Hunigfolm: You made me cry! That was lovely. )

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The Residential District

Cal' wondered if the fire fight would ever end. His body ached and he was very thirsty. The buildings were down though. "Well done lads!" he cheered but now sparks began blowing every which way.

"Brooms! Spades! Anything to smash out those sparks, and some of you start pulling that dry wood and stuff over the road. There's some water troughs there ... Can you see any buckets?"

Cal's brave gang jumped into action again. The lad from Gondor pushed himself hard and started dragging debris out of the way.


@Allacan ob Burzum :) Cal' could use that water down his throat!
man of gondor < Image > heart of rohan

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@Lailorn et al,
(I'm pulling a double shift Sat-Sun night, will get back to you soon as,!)
- he hath not forgotten Image the face of his fathers -

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Residential District

Amhran whipped around at the sound of a youthful voice calling out for any news of her mother and siblings. She touched her husband on his arm and jerked her head toward Beda. He nodded and took the wet blanket from her as she went to aid the girl. Amhran pushed a lock of hair out of her face, leaving a smear of soot across her already grimy, sweaty forehead, and touched Beda gently on the shoulder.

"Hey, sweetheart. I haven't seen your mother or your brothers and sisters, but I promise you this whole area has been evacuated, so they are at least safe. Would you like me to help you find them?"


@Eléowyn

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Elarith

The side of Elarith's body closest to the fire was getting pretty uncomfortable now. She was sure her hair was on the verge of smouldering. She gritted her teeth and tried to concentrate on passing the buckets forward whilst Taeth sent a couple of wigends off to the armoury to see what they could find. Was the fire dying down? It was hard to tell, but she thought it was looking less intense now. There couldn't be much more of the Æthelmund left to burn.

Elarith spared a glance upwards as she heard a loud rumble over the roaring of the flames. It sounded like thunder, but with the fires elsewhere in the city, maybe it was something else going up (or coming down)? She didn't have much time to dwell on this possibility, as Taeth approached with a wigend and a couple of grappling hooks. Her mouth twitched as Taeth asked how her aim was. "S'pose we'll find out. I've never thrown one of these before," she shouted back, taking the long chain and hook from the wigend in exchange for a bucket. She knew the theory... or so she thought. The plan to go for the corners made sense, and she vigorously nodded her agreement.

She crept forward, chain loose in left hand and hook swinging slightly in her right, trying to find a spot where she could hurl the grapple up to catch on the beam so they could haul it downwards. But before Elarith could get as close as she needed, there was another boom, this time definitely from inside the pub. She instinctively ducked and raised her arm against the splinters and smithereens as wreckage was blown outwards. Spikes and shards peppered her arm, but most bounced off - at least, no obvious harm done aside from a few spelks of wood jabbing her. There was another boom but this one not as loud, seeming to come from below ground level. She raised her head. The flames were fiercer than ever, the intensity of the heat had increased and seared her face. She fixed her gaze on the rafter, shimmering through the heat, steeled herself, and took three quick steps forwards before launching the hook up towards it with as much strength as she could muster. Agonisingly she watched as it flew up, chain tearing through her left hand as it span out after it, and dropped to land just over the beam. She turned on her heel and fled, eyes almost blinded by the glare and the heat, cradling her stinging left hand to herself as she used her right to guide the chain back towards the bucket lines. Béma but she was a stupid mare, she thought. All for a plan that might not even work!

She bent over and gulped in some fresher air, then gingerly opened up her left hand to see the damage. It was hard to tell in the firelight, but there was some blood and a gash and it hurt like hell. She closed her fingers over it again, then straightened up, still holding the chain in her right hand. Where was Taeth? Had she managed with her side?

@Taethowen

Amethyst Copperpick

Strong arms had lifted her off the pony and placed her down on a blanket. At least things were now the right way up again - stars above, cobbles below. Amethyst's vision swam, and without lifting her head in case she was sick, she instinctively reached out and clutched her handbag, saved from tent and field. A faint mewing noise came from within it. The dwarf stifled a sob. "Oh Krystalle, my sweetling, don't worry, mummy's here," she said, and stroked the once-beautiful leather.

Her free hand was seized by another, and Amethyst turned slowly towards the owner. It was the woman she had seen earlier, or at least she thought it was. These beardless humans looked all the same to her eyes. She tried to concentrate on what the healer was saying, but with a throbbing pain at the back of her head it was quite difficult. Almost as a reflex, she managed an "Amethyst Copperpick at your service" but it was quietly spoken and Thalionwen had already swept off elsewhere.

Somewhere close by someone was calling for help. She would have liked to help - she was good with a needle and thread after all. Her head said otherwise though, and she was fairly sure that the healer-in-charge had agreed with it and told her not to move. "Well, Krystalle. This has been an eventful evening," she said to her bag.

@Thalionwen Hunigfolm

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Image Laewyn

The Cavalry Muster Field

It was gratifying that the field was currently out of danger. Particularly since the fire was heading for her tent if it had carried on in that direction. The Rohirrim had worked well together to solve that problem, but the dangerous gold echo still lit the sky further west, and that meant Edoras was under threat. She whistled long and loud, and before long the steady hoofbeats of Honey's arrival sounded ever closer.

Laewyn swung herself up into the saddle and galloped off, dropping the scythe over a fence out of the way as she did so. She headed clockwise around the Golden Hall. There was a lot of fire in Auld Town, although it looked like it was mostly smoke now, so she had decided to head for the brighter problem area; she had the thought that maybe battling it from both sides might be useful.


The Empty Campian Arena

She arrived on the scene with nothing to hand to help with and promptly joined a group fielding buckets and refilling them. It was backbreaking work, so she subbed in since she was young and fit, and her Mama would expect nothing less. If they needed her for anything else, someone co-ordinating the efforts would surely tell her.

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Returning to the Residential District

She wasn’t totally surprised at his refusal of her help and for a split second, considered simply tearing the babe out of his arms and commanding him to obey her. But that split second proved too lengthy a hesitation, and he disappeared into the mists that had mushroomed up from the river before she could make herself move again. Tears tracked down to muddy her weary face, and she made a decision she regretted almost immediately. To try to seek them now would only frighten them all the more. She could only hope another kindly soul had more success in aiding them to safety, and swore to find them when this was over!

She doubled in a burst of coughing that left a sticky smear of blood on her hand as she withdrew it from her lips. The soreness in her throat had been easy to ignore until now, but she realized that as she’d galloped after the little ones, she must have gulped down an ember that was just a little too hot and it had burned her. It would heal, mouths healed well and quick, she told herself. But Bema it hurt!

With that, feeling her failure and a loss of precious time, she hiked her ragged skirts and wheeled about to find someplace where she could actually be of better help.

The sight that greeted her as she turned back to Edoras was a tiny bit better than she imagined it would be. Some of the larger fires seemed to have been lessened, although there was still much to do to quench them fully.

Returning to the area around the Horse & Rider Inn, she was a bit disoriented with the loss of landmarks. Then she realized the in had collapsed completely while she’d been away. Hands on her hips, she took a moment to slow her breathing and fought against the horrid coughing that only exacerbated the pain in her throat. Slapping her forehead, she remembered the faded blue square of embroidered cloth she’d had for years, adorned with a cluster of tiny knots in one corner that the woman she bought it from had called “Forget Me Knots” (and had laughed at her play on words) tucked always into a side pocket. It was still soggy, so she tied it around her lower face to avoid further inhalation of unwelcome debris.

Then she spotted a familiar face in the wagon up ahead. How had the couple managed their horses so skillfully in this chaos! She scurried close and hailed Amhran around several spasms of coughing. “You’re a welcome sight! I’ll find more blankets to help batten down the hot spots.” Dodging into a nearby and yet intact home, she silently apologized to the absent owners for taking what was likely a family heirloom, and dashed back out to drench it in the the tub of water in the wagon.

She had set her whole focus into the efforts with the sodden blanket, and only caught a glimpse of Amhran speaking to a young girl, paused to catch her breath while she watched them, the girl’s face vaguely familiar, but felt certain she did t know her. A tiny nibbling grew in her thoughts as she turned back to her work, a sense that something wasn’t right. She frowned and muttered grumpily, “something not right? Ber, little is right when wee ones have to flee away like those ...”

Her head jerked up, taking a second look at the lass, and she moved towards them, overhearing her ask about the ‘babe in arms’ and blanching white at the words. It couldn’t be, there were many with babes, yes? But the tears came again, unbidden.

She couldn’t find her words, just looked at them.


@Amhran @Eléowyn

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Pæthfindian Taethowen
Æthelmund Pub


Taeth ducked, throwing up an arm to shield her face as the Æthelmund seemed to erupt and flare, shooting heat and flames out into the street. She was far enough back that none of the actual flames engulfed her, but the heat, smoke, and burning alcohol fumes made her eyes water and her throat constrict. A little ways in front of her, she heard a scream of pain, but by the time her vision had cleared the person wasn't in sight, and Taeth assumed they'd been retrieved and ushered away to a healer somewhere.

But still, the roof needed to come down, and so Taeth finished her approach to the corner of the pub, lightly spinning the grappling hook in her right hand, the chain draped over her left. As she took aim, she dropped the chain to the ground, then let the hook fly. Bema please, let it catch, she silently prayed, and then nearly collapsed in relief as the hook and chain wrapped around the partially exposed, smoldering rafter.

She picked up the loose end of the chain, and headed back to the bucket line where she saw Elarith wincing as she flexed her hand carefully. Bema damn it, of course the woman was barehanded when she threw the chained grappling hook. Taeth was glad she still wore her own leather gloves, but she didn't have a moment to spare and check on Elarith yet.

"Wigends!" she hollered. "Set aside the buckets. We need to bring the pub down! Half of you each take hold of a chain! Draw them tight to form an X, and you'll pull on my mark! Be ready to jump back, because it will bring the front wall down towards us, but it should collapse the roof into the building!"

Taeth gestured for Elarith to stand aside, and then she took the front of the line on along on of the chains, soldiers falling in line behind her and across from her. As the chains drew taut, Taeth took a deep breath. "On your mark!" she called, honestly a bit amazed that her voice was still holding up as she braced her feet in the dirt. "Pull!"

While it took some strength, Taeth was amazed at how easy it was to bring the front of the building down, a true testament to how quickly the fire had consumed the dry wood, fueled by the alcohol inside the pub. She dropped the chain, leaping back as sparks and embers sprayed across the ground at the impact of the front wall along the street.

"Get your buckets!" Taeth called out again. "Don't try to extinguish the pub itself, but douse the wall we just pulled down into the street!"

Taeth turned back to where Elarith stood then, pulling out the black scarf she'd worn earlier in the evening as she hid in the shadows of the Æthelmund, and reaching for Elarith's hand to inspect it. Taeth grimaced at the gash. "You'll need to get this looked at soon," she said. "Wounds on the palm are finicky."

Taeth unsheathed one of the daggers strapped to her thigh, and cut a strip off the scarf she held. Once she'd re-sheathed the blade, she carefully wrapped the cloth around Elarith's hand and fastened it. "That's not too tight is it?"


@Elarith

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The Residential District: NPC: Malachite Copperstick

Mal , oblivious now to hubbub and heat, stood torn between two choices - saving the city or finding Amethyst, his sister. His eyes found the figure of a young girl (Beda) and followed her progress down the street. Her sudden shouts were like an ice-pick to the forehead and the Dwarf stirred at last.

“Aid this lady, lads!” Mal called to his wrecking-crew and the boys led by the tall fellow (@Calimir). He tipped a salute @Lailorn then tore off toward the ruined abode of the woman he’d tried to save earlier.

Malachite Copperstick at your service,” he said to the young girl and the woman who’d joined her (@Amhran ). Mindful of how ludicrous such formalities were in the midst of wrack and ruin, but hoping to restore some semblance of normality to the situation and help calm the lass, the Dwarf bowed low then placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.

“Easy lass, easy!” he said. “I think your brothers and sisters are out of harm's way… certainly they escaped the house before it took fire and collapsed. They made their way off yonder, towards the town gates and the wide open spaces below the walls. I'm sure they're safe and waiting for you.”

Mal had no knowledge of the fires outside the city, his stature and the tall perimeter walls had prevented him seeing any sign of the chaos upon the fields along the Snowbourn, but he knew with certainty that the lass’s mother was gravely injured.

“Now you must be brave, little sister,” the Dwarf said gently, looking the girl squarely in the eye. “Your Mam is hurt, I sent her to the local hospital not five minutes ago... Perhaps this lady (@Amhran ) can guide you thither?


--
@Eléowyn & @Elarith

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Shadowfox, human, they/them
The now extinguished After-Party Tent and leading a team up to the Residential District

As they hopped away from the now drenched, sooty and thoroughly doused patch of canvas, Shadowfox grinned at Lailyn's compliment and gave a flourished box. A moment later and their friend excused herself even as they regarded their ruined slippers with a little regret. Seconds later a loud whistle and the sound of hooves heralded Leawyn's exit to re-inforce the fire-fighting efforts still going on within the city, and Shadowfox felt instantly remorseful that they had paused to grieve over their scorched and stained footwear while elsewhere people were still battling to save lives, livelihoods and homes.

Glancing around for some sort of direction or instruction, they realised that they were not the only person to have lost some of the motivation and momentum now that the fires in this immediate vicinity had been quenched; a number of the people who had manned the bucket-lines were now milling about, undecided on what to do now. Driven by the need to urge the group towards where they would be needed most, Shadowfox quickly overturned one of the buckets and leapt onto it to gain a little extra height, taking a deep breath and engaging all of their vocal lessons in projection and enunciation to carry over the open field, rooted through their memory for any collection of words that might serve in the moment.


"Friends, Rohir, Countrymen, lend me your ears!" [1] they bellowed in a rich, resonant voice that carried surprisingly well across the field with all the force of a thespian; quite a change of tone to Shadowfox's usually passive, shy voice. As faces turned towards them, they suddenly realised that as helpful as the opening words had been, the next lines on the monologue were hardly appropriate to this situation, and they desperately searched the recessed of their mind for more suitable words to cobble them together into a speech that might rouse the hesitant group to rush to the aid of the rest of the city. "Arise, arise, Riders of Rohan! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter![2] The winds, piping to us in vain, as in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea contagious fogs[3] and have torn it all apart. I'm watching it burn.[4] I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me![5] He which hath no stomach to this fight, let him depart[6] but do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.[7] This day we rescue a world from mysticism and tyranny, and usher in a future brighter than anything we can imagine.[8] Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, riding in the green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in the halls of your fathers, you're already dead. Brothers, what we do in life... echoes in eternity.[9] Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn. Forth, Eorlingas!”[10]

And then, without waiting to see whether the speech had worked, Shadowfox leapt down from their bucket and, hefting it like a weapon, began a shouting charge up the hill towards where the others fires burned, trusting that those who felt honour, duty and pride in their heart would follow after, rallying to the call of their fellow countrymen in need.


[1] Marc Anthony's speech from Shakespeare's Julius Caeser, adjusted to make it relevant for this scenario
[2] Theoden's rallying cry in Tolkien's The Return of the King; The Ride of the Rohirrim, adjusted to make it relevant for this scenario
[3] Oberon's Speech to Titania in Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream
[4] Eliza's song Burn from the musical Hamilton
[5] Aragorn's Speech at the Black Gate from Peter Jackson's Return of the King
[6] The King's St Crispin's Day speech from Shakespeare's Henry V
[7] Extract from Dylan Thomas's poem Do not go gentle into that good night
[8] Dilios's speech to the Greek army in the film 300
[9] Maximus' speech to his men before combat from the film Gladiator, adjusted to make it relevant for this scenario
[10] Theoden's words to Aragorn in Peter Jackson's The Two Towers (couldn't remember if this was also from the book, sorry)



Grimthain, human, he/him
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary with Amethyst Copperpick @Elarith

The healer Thali quickly answered his summons and sent him away to deal with another patient who would, he hoped, be someone he actually knew how to help. Grimthain was an experienced warrior and good at handling the challenges of a combat scenario, but he was less good at dealing with multiple things going on at once if he cannot resolve the issue by killingor neutralise it with a weapon or commanding people to do the same. Now he had found himself in the heart of the medics and the injured he was out of his depth, but he had no intention of fleeing as the two other people who had brought in the injured woman had, not if he could make himself useful in *some* way. So it was that when he was provided with clear, simple in instructions by the hæland he eagerly rushed off to see to her wishes, oblivious that Thali had other motivations for having him out of the way.

He briefly took in the garb of the injured dwarven woman Amethyst and made an acute observation that this was likely a dwarf who identified as female. He had heard rumour that dwarven women had beards and had always imagined them to be coarse, rough things in the manner of his own ragged facial hair, however this dwarven woman's was quite exquisitely groomed and plainted and, he realised with surprise, quite feminine. Despite all the smoke and haze he could even catch a whiff of perfume on the woman as he knelt beside her, and found himself radically re-assessing the status of this individual even as he considered how best to encourage he to remain still and not try to move.

"My lady, my name is Grimthain? Can you speak; may I enquire as your name, ma'am?" The woman did not seem minded to shift from where she had been laid and if anything seemed a little dazed, seemingly unaware of his presence or conscious that he was addressing her. She seemed at least for the moment focussed only on retrieving her handbag, and he could sympathise with seeking out familiar comforts and precious belongings when injured or panicked. He shifted the bag it closer to her so that she could reach it and be comforted, and then jumped and stared at the handbag when it... miaowed at him!

In the space of five minutes he had been slapped in the face by an old mute woman and mewed at by a handbag. He was starting to wonder if had actually taken a blow to his head himself and was suffering some delirium when the dwarven woman spoke to the... handbag and called it Krystalle. He was still questioning his own sanity when Thali appeared and cheerfully started speaking with the woman, who now volunteered her name as Amethyst Copperpick.

He recalled Thali's orders (
"sit and talk with her so she doesn't lose consciousness again, and to keep her from moving at all until I can get back") and continued addressing the woman politely, even if she wasn't fully present enough to engage. "Good Lady Copperpick, and... dear Krystalle" he added as an afterthought, nodding respectfully at the handbag "I am Æthelwigend Grimthain, and I am going to sit with you until you feel better. I would be greatly obliged if you could try and remain still, and if you would kindly stay awake; I am rather honoured to have your acquaintance, and I'd be a little disappointed if you fell asleep on me before we are properly introduced and familiar." He maintained a carefully polite, positive tone, conscious that for all he knew he was speaking with dwarven royalty; some royal lines had a tendency towards insanity, which might explain her talking to handbags and addressing them by name. "You have a very... interesting handbag. Do you mind if I enquire as to where you obtained it? I have been contemplating obtaining a satchel or purse for myself - they do so come in handy for keeping the necessaries close at hand. Pray, where did you obtain this particular one; it has an admirable design?"

He nodded at Thali to let her knew he was comfortable dealing with this woman, with a look that tried to silently communicate that he would watch over her and call if she deteriorated or seemed to need help.
Old Mother Mute (for no-one has yet learned her name), human, she/her
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary with Nymlac @Lailorn
(OOC - Black is probably the right colour, I'll take it into account when I do the tally)

She had managed to coax her one good, shaking hand to wrap bandages firmly around her wrist and ankle; she could not really tie them off and they were not as tight as younger, more dexterous hands might have managed but they would serve all the same, she thought with a satisfied nod. She then fetched out a triangular bandage and carefully tucked it under left arm - careful to not knock her broken wrist too badly and wincing when she caught it a little harsher than she had meant - and then trailed the two corner ends up ready to tie around her neck into a sling, and there she reached an impasse. Even when her fingers had not been crooked with age and weakened with years she would have struggled to manage the reef-knot to secure the sling, but now she was confident that it was beyond her capabilities.

She glanced around at the people about her, looking for someone who might be able to spare 30 seconds to tie the sling in place, and spotted someone deposit an unconscious man (Nymlac) down on one of the nearby make-shift platters and hesitate, looking for a healer. She eyed him, spotted the vomit stains across her shirt, and immediately her healer instincts kicked in as she forgot her own less serious injuries. Shifting the length of willow-bark in her mouth to suck it in another cheek with a look of determination, she began shuffling forwards on her bum toward him, crossing the distance slowly with only one working hand and one uninjured foot and having to carefully tug her blanket with her so as to not expose the entirety of Edoras to her wrinkled naked legs, for she only wore a nightgown underneath. When she arrived at Nymlac's side and the person who had brought him attempted to make a hasty retreat, she pursed her lips and whistled at him as loudly as she could. He stopped, confused by the unexpected behaviour, long enough for her to motion towards the healers bag she had left in her previous resting place with her pipe and buckler. She pointed vehemently at all three items and then at her lap with a pointed frown that made it less of a request and more of a command.

Then she turned back to Nymlac and, shifting the willow bark again to chew a new spot, tried to gather herself together comfortably enough to focus on him, her broken left wrist guarded close by her chest and her sprained right ankle laid out carefully beside her. She first felt his forehead, checked his skull for bumps or cuts that might indicate a head injury, then checked the rest of his body for signs of any serious cuts or wounds. His chest was rising and falling easily enough, which was a good sign. She lent forwards to smell his breath and then recoiled in disgust and rolled her eyes when she smelt the strong whiff of alcohol behind the stench of his stomach's regurgitated contents.

She turned to look for the other man and discovered that he had dumped her requested items beside her and then scarpered before he could command him once again. She rolled her eyes, both at the youthful avoidance and the reckless drunkenness of the person she was tending to. She had no immediate concerns about her patient; if he woke he would need water and lots of it, but given his unresponsiveness to her examination she suspected he would be out of it. But he did need to be rolled off his back and onto his side so that he would not choke on his vomit if his stomach attempted another emergency exit, and she lacked the strength and fitness to achieve that herself. She glanced about, waving and trying to catch the eye of people rushing hither and anon, trying to silently appeal to someone to rock her inebriated patient onto his side and, hopefully, also tie her sling and bandages in place for her also.

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Residential District

Amhran winced at Malachite's words. And I just promised this little girl that her family was safe, she thought. I should have known better than to promise anything of the sort. Her husband had just come up behind her to see what was happening, and she turned to him. "This young lady's mother is hurt and has been taken to the infirmary. Can you manage if I escort her to see her mother?" Athelstan nodded assent, and then, almost as an afterthought, leaned forward and kissed his wife before turning away again to continue beating out the small conflagrations. He passed Bereth on the way; she seemed stunned and close to tears; and though he didn't know who she was or why she looked so devastated, he paused to give her an encouraging smile and a hand on her shoulder. He was grateful for her help.

Meanwhile, Amhran put an arm around Beda's shoulders. "Come along, love. Let's go to the infirmary and see if we can't find your mam."

@Bereth @Eléowyn

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FOURTH UPDATE


Map design by @Aodh Hammerhelm

The smoke rising had already obscured many of the stars overhead, and the moon was only a peeping observer of the antics below. Then was a bright lightning strike flashed, discharging safely on a distant tree to the East of the city, and the rumble of thunder reverberated through the whole city as storm clouds closed overhead, blocking out the last of the sky...


The Aethelmund Tavern
(Text colour #670088)
Post Contribution Total = 10

Elarith and Taethowen's valiant efforts into wrangling rafters with chained grappling hooks and the steady guidance offered to the cavalry forces soon coordinated their efforts towards a controlled collapse of the pubs' upper storey that would allow the gathered fire-fighters to stand well clear and successfully avoid any of the falling debris or the flurry of sparks. Under the heaving strain of the force pulled against its last surviving supports, the building loomed heavily forwards, almost looking for a moment like it would defy gravity in a vengeful assault on those pulling at the chains. Then at last there was a splintering, cracking noise and the beams gave way, the building folding inwards against itself and sloughing out onto the open street. A few more muffled explosions from the cellar below announced that the fire was stiff continuing to burn its way through the alcohol supplies, but these were no longer accompanied by shoots of escaping flames or unexpected explosions of fire. The winds had died down a little, and it appeared that as long as the blaze was managed and not allowed to spread further, now that much of the under layers were being starved of oxygen it was possible that the tavern fire would likely burn itself out, or smothered even earlier still if more aid could be summoned to man the bucket-lines...


The Empty Campian Arena
(Text colour #FF40BF)
Post Contribution Total = 5

By the time Laewyn arrived on her swift steed, the stables-turned-combat arena had been completely overwhelmed. The main issue here appeared to be that the building was too widely spaced to easily target the heart of the fire, and there were currently too few people to launch counter-measures against the fire as it continued to claim the building. The southern wall in particular was a cause for concern; close by the walls of the Cavalry Courtyard it was proving increasingly difficult for Gwai's meagre forces to keep the fencing dry and the thick wooden posts were now steaming each time a bucket was thrown on them. Even more concerning was the threat of a repeat ember fire just as the After-Party tent had attempted; here near the peak of Edoras rise the wind was strongest, and the Campian Arena was tall-sided and perhaps built too closely to its neighbours. Bright sparks of burning debris were being lifted into the sky and carried out of sight into the Cavalry Courtyard, where they might easily land and begin secondary fires on the rooftops of the buildings within the walls. Someone needed to spot the wind-carried burning debris to ensure help could be called if one landed and caught, but the forces on the ground were already outnumbered by the nearby fires and if more help did not arrive soon, the entire vicinity might be claimed by the inferno....


Auld Town Residential District
(Text colour #804000)
Post Contribution Total = 19 (+2 contribution from the Pop-Up Infirmary to put out the last of the fire) THIS FIRE HAS BEEN EXTINGUISHED

Time ticked by, though in the heat and flurry of effort to stop the blaze it was difficult to distinguish minutes from hours. Athelstan and his cart trundled back and forth, back and forth along the front-line fire-break as the inferno burned itself down, the steady horses maintaining impressive calm under his guidance as many made use of the sloshing wagon filled with water to soak blankets and rags to douse embers as they landed on the broken down wood that was once a street of houses. Lailyn and a few others were busy trying to clear the dismantled debris away from the fires so they would not serve as places where a new fire could flourish, leaving the blaze to start dwindling under its finite source of fuel. Calimir's forces, now armed with brooms and spades were dashing about to smother any embers or sparks that were carried by the wind to land nearby, and young Beda was making a similarly valiant effort until she was brought up short realising that she stood in her own neighbourhood, and a few of the fire-fighters (Amhran, Athelstan and Malachite) were distracted trying to console her.

Even as Shadowfox arrived leading a small group of bucket-wielding enthusiasts from the fields below the city, the fire burning through one of the last houses overwhelmed before the dismantling began reached an interior store-room. This particular resident was a fan of baking, and the shelves were thick with flour, sugar and pudding mix that unfortunately had properties that made them extremely volatile once ignited. Luckily for everyone, the resultant explosion just happened to be right beside where Athelstan's cart had moments ago been parked; by some stroke of kindly fates everyone was shielded from the force of the outward eruption which predominantly struck the side of the cart itself. It seemed that prayers had been heard for aid in defeating the fire also, for the damage to the cart caused a crack in the side which conveniently emptied its remaining load directly onto the source of the flash-fire, and the sloshing, running liquids flooded the building and quickly extinguished the last of the flames. All the same, the previously calm horses who had been momentarily abandoned by their calm owner had not been ready for such a flurry of explosive flames at their rear and dashed unexpectedly forwards away from the danger, straight towards Shadowfox, who threw aside their loaded bucket to leap acrobatically aside and away before they were trampled, unaware that in the process of doing so, they inadvertently emptied the entire contents of their bucket straight into Calimir's face.

OOC @Calimir (Careful what you wish for)

Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary
(Text colour #000000)
Post Contribution Total = 8 (-1 to put out the Horse and Rider Inn, -2 to put out the Residential District)

The fire claimed its first casualty in the form of Gléonild who was too badly hurt for the hæland to help but passed peacefully into oblivion under the Thali's gentle watch. But as the old adage spoke true 'no rest for the hæland when others are hurting', the healer had no time to consider the loss as she moved swiftly to Amethyst's side and made an assessment of the injured dwarf even while Grimthain tried to offer assistance and elsewhere Mother Mute started tending to the drunk and unconscious Nymlac.

A wind seemed to shift through the air then, softly whispering past Thali as though answering the prayers for pity she had spoken over Gléonild's fading spirit. A strange sensation of ethereal benevolence washed over the hæland, and should she glance up to the sky to see the last of the stars blotted from sight, she would feel the first, tenuous, intermittent drops of rain land on her skin.

(NOTE:- Posts in this location count towards whichever fire location is closest to meeting its target, to ensure they are included in the most effective manner, but can only be put towards a location where others are actively fighting the fire.)


Other RP Locations where the fire has been extinguished

The Horse and Rider Inn
(Text colour #000080)
Final Post Contribution Total = 10 (+1 contribution from the Pop-Up Infirmary to put out the last of the fire)
(Please note, posts made in these locations will after this update no longer count towards the fire-fighting, but by all means feel free to continue RPing your stories here in this thread if you wish)


The After-Party Tent
(Text colour #008000)
Final Post Contribution Total = 13
(Please note, posts made in these locations will after this update no longer count towards the fire-fighting, but by all means feel free to continue RPing your stories here in this thread; the GM wants to know what happens to those kids! :headshake: )

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Elarith
No sooner had Elarith thought about Taeth than she appeared, shouting instructions for the soldiers. She stepped out of the way, still breathing hard, and watched as they took up the slack. She found herself mumbling prayers as the wigends pulled and pulled until the wall bulged, cracked, then tumbled down, the Æthelmund collapsing in on itself. The fire still burned but it seemed less volatile than before.

The bucket lines reformed, and now she'd had a moment to recover Elarith was keen to be of use again. She looked round for a bucket, only to find Taeth approaching with a length of dark material. Obediently she held her left hand out - the paethfindian must've spotted it was hurting from the way she had been holding it. "My own fault, should've dropped the chain altogether," she said, trying not to flinch. The wound was throbbing now.

Elarith nodded when Taeth said about getting it looked at. Once she would've run a mile from the haelends, but these days, though still suspicious of some of the nasty-smelling potions, she saw the sense in visiting them when necessary. And this did look like it might turn into something worse if she just left it. "When this is done with I'll find a haelend somewhere," she said, as Taeth sliced a strip from her scarf and wrapped it over her palm. "Thanks, it feels all right. Good enough to last til I can get it seen to at any rate. I'm sorry about the scarf though," she said, hoping she hadn't been too attached to the newly chopped garment.

With her left hand bound up, Elarith picked up a bucket with her right and went to fill it. If they could get the Æthelmund out, or at least under control enough, they could see what was going on over at the Campian. Flames were visible in that direction, and there were plenty more Cavalry buildings it could spread to if the sparring arena went up.


@Taethowen

Amethyst Copperpick is quite confusing but that's head injuries for you

After Thali had gone, a deeper voice took over speaking. At first Amethyst didn't pay much attention to the words, just enjoying the sounds and intonation whilst she thought about... well, very little. But then she realised she was being addressed again. She looked over to the new speaker, who did at least have a beard. Was he a healer as well? "Amethyst Copperpick at your service, Mr Grimthain," she replied. "I would bow but it's rather awkward to do when one is prostrate, so you will have to wait, if it is full and formal introductions you're after." She knew the Rohirrim liked a bit of tradition but this was hardly the time or place for describing ancestral lines and hereditary titles.

Amethyst had caught his eyes straying towards her bag, and in due course Grimthain asked about it at length. She raised an eyebrow, surprised to find such genuine interest. "Oh, I had the leather-workers in Dale craft this for me a couple of years ago, to my very particular design. Most bags suffer from lack of pockets and compartments, especially if they are also designed for fancy occasions. I still have the pattern somewhere, and can forward it on to you. I think," she said, giving him a critical once-up-and-down look, "that something along similar lines may suit you, actually. Perhaps we could leave off some of the rhinestones - unless you want to be particularly dazzling." A whole new line of business opportunities hovered tantalisingly in view. Perhaps she could supply the entire Cavalry with new handbags? Ones with a little hook to keep them attached to the saddle?

Another soft mew interrupted her handbag empire reverie. Poor Krystalle was probably starving. Amethyst looked across at Grimthain. "Tell me, darling, would you happen to have some tasty provisions upon you? A little duck pâté, perhaps? Or some fish?"

@Allacan ob Burzum

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Image Laewyn

The Empty Campian Arena


Laewyn worked for maybe half an hour on the bucket-line, which was frenzied and frantic and frenetic, but eventually someone came to relieve her when she got tired, and she began to take a step back and assess what was going on with the fire in this area.

The main problem was the lack of people, really, but there were things that needed to be done and if the wind picking up was any clue, then they were going to have another conflagration on the other side, into the cavalry courtyard and maybe heading into New Town too. That was not acceptable. Hopefully more folk would smell the smoke, see the fire and hear the alarm, and come to defend Edoras from this windy menace. In the meantime ...

Laewyn went a-searching through the cavalry gear for something fireproof. She found nothing of that nature, but was delighted to find a couple of new army blankets - pure new wool would be wonderful at soaking up water, and the blanket would make excellent douses should an ember decide to land arbitrarily on another roof. She dunked them both in the horses' water trough until they were submerged, and then looked around, judging the wind direction and the most safe position for a ladder. If she was going to dance around on rooftops, she'd rather it was as safe as possible. She wasn't a fan of heights.

A ladder was found without fanfare and she laid it against the closest of the buildings, then, heaving one soaking blanket out, Laewyn hoisted it over her shoulder and climbed the ladder, leaving the blanket in a wep heap at one end of the building before going back for the other blanket. She thought she was ready, but what if the wind was stronger? What if the embers flew beyond? She would be unlikely to get down off this building, rush across to the other side and climb again before it was ablaze ... maybe she could shout and warn people. Yes. She could most definitely do that.
Last edited by Lirimaer on Wed Aug 26, 2020 9:58 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Lailyn, Residential District

Barely after the dwarf (Mal) said the words “Aid this lady, lads!” Lail began hauling as much material out of the way as she could. She heard a voice, a child (Beda), calling if anyone had seen her mother and while she paused and searched for the source of the voice amid the smoke, she saw someone else approach the girl to help.

Lail felt a squeezing in her chest as she thought of the children, mothers and families who had to escape the flames and were displaced and parted in the panic. She tried to bury her feelings inside a space where she could assess them later just like she’d done years ago on the battlefield. But she was out of practice and tears pricked her eyes that had nothing to do with the smoke.

Still, she kept moving the housing material until she felt like she could carry no more. And with help from others, they soon had the material cleared away. Her arms ached from hauling buckets and lifting the wreckage and her throat felt dry and rough despite the cloth that covered her face. But she knew the emotional scars inflicted this night would last far longer than any physical pain.

When the explosion blasted and she felt it still low and thrumming in her ears, some more of her strength sapped away. But the fire was out at last. She blinked tears from her eyes and saw then that there was yet another fire raging near the Cavalry Courtyard. But she had neither the strength nor the heart to rush onward and keep fighting. Not without a moment of rest first.


Nymlac, Infirmary Tent, being an unconscious bum
Nymlac remained unconscious while Mother Mute tended to him. She was far kinder than he deserved. But at least his cousin would appreciate him being placed in rescue position.

(OOC @Eléowyn @Thalionwen Hunigfolm you are breaking my heart both of you but your writing is beautiful. :cry: @Allacan ob Burzum he does not deserve Mother Mute tending him with her injury!)

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Image
Thalionwen, at the Pop-Up Infirmary
with Grimthain and Amethyst


"Well you sound quite chipper," Thalionwen said to Amethyst with false brightness, willing herself not to glance over at where she'd left the body of the woman who'd just passed. She'd covered the poor soul with a blanket, and would have to make arrangements for her to be brought down to the Infirmary, so Thali could clean her up and dress her, and arrange funeral rites. But for now, there were the living to attend.

"No duck, and no fish," Thalionwen warned Amethyst sternly. "You can have this."

Fishing through one of her nearby saddlebags, Thali extracted a flask and set it into the dwarf woman's hand. "That's chamomile tea with honey. It should still be warm. But before you sit up, let me just have a look at your neck and that head wound, shall I?"

With practiced hands, Thali gently disentangled what was left of Amethyst's headdress from her hair, and set it aside. Then she felt along her spine, up to the base of the skull. Everything sound. And the head injury had stopped bleeding already, and clotted over. Satisfied, Thali nodded.

"You can sit up," she told Amethyst. "Here, take my arm and let me help. That's right, just like that. Yes, you'll be a bit dizzy. Sip that tea while I clean your wound."

With a linen rag and her bucket of clean water, Thali tended to the injury, ensuring it was entirely clean. The cut itself was quite small--head wounds always bled more than they had any right to, and likely it was only the force of being bowled over that had stolen Amethyst's wits.

"I'm going to bandage this for you now," Thali said. "It won't even need stitches--the wound is quite small, and should heal nicely on its own. But you must keep it clean, and change the bandage every day for a week. If you'll wait here while I tend to others who've come in, we can try to find any travel companions you might have, or make arrangements for someone to stay with you for the next day, to ensure there are no complications from that blow to the head you had. I'm so sorry I can't wait with you myself, I've got to be carrying on. Grimthain, would you stay with Amethyst? And just keep her awake by having a chat?"

Turning away, Thalionwen moved swiftly to where Nymlac and Mother Mute waited.

with Nymlac and Mother Mute


"Westu Ealdramoder hal," Thali said politely, approaching the old woman with her clumsily-bandaged ankle and ineffective sling. She took over easily, rolling Nymlac into the recovery position and wrinkling her nose at the alcohol fumes wafting from him. "This one smells like a brewery, doesn't he? No mistaking what his trouble is. May I help you with your bandages? It's difficult to tend to your own injuries, I know, but you've done a credible job of it. And I see you had willow bark on hand. Were you a haelend at some point?"

Taking the elderly woman's nod to her question about the bandages as permission, Thali set about to righting the wrappings as she spoke. She'd no time to determine if the injuries beneath them were breaks or sprains, not with voices approaching down several nearby alleys. Instead, she bound the old woman's ankle efficiently and tidily, did the same for her wrist, and tied up the sagging sling.

"That's better!" Thali said, beginning to notice the woman's silence. "I'd like it if you could come down to my Infirmary on the outskirts of the city so I can look those over more thoroughly, though. I've got a better stock of herbs there, and a nice cold well. Some cool cloths would help the swelling on that ankle. I don't know how you fared in the fires, either--there'll be plenty left homeless, and I've got places for folk to stay. Nothing luxurious, mind, just a lot of sheds and outbuildings, but there's a pond to wash in, and fresh hay for people and creatures alike to bed down on. You'd be welcome there, if you need shelter. And I'm sorry I haven't asked yet, Ealdramoder--what's your name? I'm Thalionwen Hunigfolm, a haelend with the Cavalry, and on my own time as well."

The chatter and busyness were helping to distract Thali--losing a patient always rested heavy on her, and the last few times, it had taken days to shake off the lassitude that followed a death she'd been unable to prevent. But she couldn't afford that now. There was too much to be done.
Image
Bealdorhaelend
Proud member of the Eastmark
Lead Healer, Edoras Infirmary
Shopkeeper, Cwep Ciese

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Residential District

People were talking to her, and though she heard their words, Beda could only take in bits and pieces. She heard someone (@Amhran ) say her family must be safe. But then a man, a dwarf (@Aodh Hammerhelm ) she realized, told her that Mam was hurt, though the bairns were safe. Beda struggled to hold back tears, though her lip was trembling. She turned and stared at the charred ruins of what had been her home, thankful that at least she need not search there.

This cannot be real, this cannot be real, kept running through her head. I am only twelve, I do not know what I should do. Do I go to Mam, or do I find Almod and the others? I do not know what to do!

A gentle arm about her shoulder and a kind voice made the decision for her. Beda turned grateful eyes to the woman (Amhran). “Yes, of course,” she replied, with little inflection in her voice. “I must go to Mam. She will know what to do next.”

A sudden explosion knocked her momentarily to the ground. When she rose, she could see the flames in Auld Town were all but extinguished. She had been reluctant to accept the woman’s offer of help, knowing that would take her away from the firefight; but now, she gratefully replied, in a small, shaky voice, “I would very much appreciate it if you could help me find my way to the infirmary tent. You are very kind, and I am sure my mam will be ever so grateful as well.”

As Beda prepared to follow the woman to the hæland’s tent, the thought suddenly came to her: Tomorrow is my birthday. Mam was going to make a cake. She hoped the woman did not notice as she wiped the back of her sleeve across her eyes.

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"Well done, well done!" shouted Wamba the Fool as things cooled down in the Residential District. Maybe too "well-done," ha, he kept to himself after the last explosion was over.
He was turning around to thank the Gondorian missive-carrier, especially, and there was a dwarf who had gone like blazes, too, but - a spark shewed against the darkling clouds, and then another. The Fool didn't wait for a third; it had looked like it was from Meduseld itself.

 "No rest for the weary, my lads," Wamba was saying again. "Well, maybe for you, ealdfæder," he winked at a Rider particularly advanced in years who was already sitting down and didn't look to be moving again for a bit. The old man waved a hand and mumbled something about still being able to carry more buckets than all the rest of them put together. 

"There's more work to be done, and we've got to go uphill to do it!" Wamba the Fool addressed the firefighting gangs. "Buckets, axes, pikes, brooms, stout hearts, and good cheer! Upward now - Forth Eorlingas!"

Wamba the Fool was relieved to see Meduseld unburned - it was just a trick of distance and angle that had worried him. The Æthelmund was a sorry sight but under control; the Campian was completely overwhelmed.
Time for directions...

 "One gang to the fence; keep the water going, but if it lights off take it down and make sure the neighboring fencing doesn't burn!" 
"One gang stand by to react to falling cinders in the Cavalry Courtyard; listen for the calls, don't weary yourselves needlessly." 
"You lot, spread out in the Cavalry Courtyard and watch those cinders falling; if they start something, call for the reaction force!" 


They were a motley crew that had trotted up behind him, but they were brave, and still on their feet, for now.


((OOC: Edit to tag in some folk who would likely notice the movement: @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Bereth @Allacan ob Burzum ))
((OOC: Edit deux to tag in the Campian folk: @Lirimaer, @Dimcairien Luiniel, @Gwai ))
Last edited by Wamba_the_Fool on Tue Aug 25, 2020 4:11 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Joined: Sat Jun 13, 2020 2:09 pm
Residential District, then Infirmary

Athelstan hadn't even turned away from Bereth when an explosion rocked the street and he whirled to see a flaming house go out in a hiss and an almighty jet of smoke from the water spilling out of his wagon - which was being rapidly borne away by his panicked horses. With an unmuffled oath, he chased off after them, catching up to them only when they slowed slightly to avoid trampling Shadowfox. Seizing the near hand one by the bridle he brought them to a halt, rubbing their noses and soothing their ruffled feelings. He tutted when he saw the damage to his wagon: one side completely caved in and the wheel close to coming off entirely. Well, if it had to go, thought Athelstan, at least it went heroically.

Amhran had only paused to make sure her husband had the situation in hand before guiding her young charge away. It wasn't far to go but it took longer than she expected because they kept having to take the long way 'round to avoid the piles of rubble and the smouldering wreckage of homes and stables. Keeping her arm around Beda's shoulders, in hope that it would give her some measure of security, she pushed her way through the flap of the Infirmary tent and looked around for Thalionwen, whom she knew by sight but had never spoken to. Thali was busy with a couple patients but as soon as it looked like she had a moment, Amhran approached her with Beda. "Excuse me, ma'am, this young lady is looking for her mother. The Dwarf, Malachite, said she was hurt and he brought her here. May we see her?"

@Eléowyn @Thalionwen Hunigfolm
Last edited by Amhran on Tue Aug 25, 2020 4:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Thalionwen
the Infirmary


Turning away from the voiceless Ealdramoder, Thali joined Amhran and Beda with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The young girl, little more than a child, was wide-eyed and unhappy-looking, and the sight of her cut Thali to the quick.

"I'm Thalionwen Hunigfolm, a haelend with the Cavalry, and a healer outside that as well," Thali said gently to the girl. "What's your name, child? Can you tell me what your mother looks like? And can I ask you something else, my love? Have you got a father in the city? Or grandparents? Aunts and uncles, perhaps? Even an older brother or sister?"

She smiled encouragingly at the girl, and forced herself not to think of what lay behind her in the shadows against the Riddermarket wall--the sad, lifeless body of the woman who'd been brought to her, and who'd died on her watch.

@@Eléowyn @Amhran
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Bealdorhaelend
Proud member of the Eastmark
Lead Healer, Edoras Infirmary
Shopkeeper, Cwep Ciese

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The Infirmary (NPC Beda)

Beda had followed the woman (@Amhran) wordlessly as they wound their way through people, debris, and charred ruins until at last she could see a tent that she was sure had not been there before. The hæland tent, she realized.

She had managed to keep her mind strictly on watching her step as they made their way to the infirmary. Now, staring at the flap that marked the opening into the tent, Beda was afraid. Up until this very moment, she had imagined walking into the tent and seeing Mam sitting up, perhaps with a bandage about her head, looking as if she were expecting Beda any minute.

But now she was not so sure. She felt an emptiness inside—not the empty feeling of hunger, but something deeper, something she did not understand. The kind lady guided her through the opening, then waited just inside.

Beda looked around the tent while they waited, hoping to see a glimpse of her mother, perhaps stretched out sleeping on one of the make-shift cots. There was a dwarf, an old lady, and several others, but she did not see Mam. Perhaps she had been treated and released and was even now looking for me, Beda conjectured hopefully.

Shortly, another woman (@Thalionwen Hunigfolm) approached, introduced herself as the hæland, and started questioning Beda. “My name is Beda, miss,” Beda replied, trying to remember her manners. “My mother is Gléonild, and she, well, she looks a lot like you, if I were to try to say what she looks like.” It occurred to Beda for the first time in her short life that she had never really looked at Mam, not in the way that one would if trying to describe someone. She was, well, just Mam, and though Beda had always thought her beautiful, she now realized that Mam’s face had lines where this lady’s did not, and dark circles under her eyes. And her face was almost always sad.

“She is perhaps about your age,” Beda continued. “With golden hair, but not as shiny as yours.” Her eyes darted about the tent as she spoke, still hoping for a glimpse of her mother.

“There is no one else, not older at least. Well, there is a Sheemie. We are not really related but he calls me sweoster. I have five younger brothers and sisters, but I am told they are safe somewhere outside the walls. The eldest is only nine so I need to go find them soon. But can I see Mam first, please? Our home is burned down, and she can tell me where I should take them.”

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Gwai
Campian


She had a bad feeling the Campian was a lost cause. Sparks were beginning to fly toward the Courtyard, which would bring a whole other set of problems. Gwai hoped desperately the other fires were under better control than this.

Laewyn had gone up a roof, and would have a good view of where the fire may be spreading. From the direction of the wind, however, it looked as if it would be heading toward the Courtyard, and she thought she could see some embers heading that way. Hopefully the wigends had evacuated the stable.

She turned to the young man (Éomund) who had come over with her from the old Æthel, and Ama. “We need to go to the Courtyard,” she said hoarsely in between coughs, feeling so exhausted she wasn’t sure how they would accomplish saving it by themselves, while still trying to keep the Campian under some sort of control. Fortunately, reinforcements were arriving (Wamba). Hopefully they would be able to keep the blaze from spreading, and she stumbled off toward the Courtyard, feeling dizzy and wondering if smoke inhalation damage was permanent.


@Lirimaer @Dimcairien Luiniel @Amadhrill
@Wamba_the_Fool
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The Residential District

Cal' began dragging broken planks and other debris across the street. His brave lads were batting sparks left, right and centre. "Westu!" He called to a woman (Lailyn @Lailorn ) who was piling broken wood out if the way of any possible fires."We're doing well , I just wish it would rain now.Then we could rest for a bit." he said to her.

Cal' heard what sounded like thunder but he realised it was cartwheels coming up the road. The cart was full of people with buckets. He turned to carry on gathering when a loud bang shook the night.

"Wha..." he yelled and turned to see the cart lying on its side. Before he could run to help stop stampeding horses a fellow(?) (Shadowfox @Allacan ob Burzum almost knocked him over. Water from the Rohir's bucket splashed into Cal's face. He was cool at last but also blind for a moment.

Last edited by Calimir on Thu Aug 27, 2020 8:04 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Pæthfindian Taethowen
Æthelmund Pub


"It's no matter," Taeth answered after Elarith apologized about the scarf. "I can always make another."

Elarith retrieved a bucket then, and Taeth nodded as the woman stepped away, and then turned to survey the Æthelmund. Finally, it seemed like getting that blaze under control was actually possible. There was heat pounding at her back, though, and she twisted to look over her shoulder, grimacing at the sight of the Campian ablaze.

Even then, though, reinforcements were beginning to arrive at the Campian (Wamba). Taeth motioned for half of the Cavalry soldiers currently helping on the bucket line at the Æthelmund to split off. "Go work help get the Campian fire under control. It's dangerously close to the Cavalry courtyard, and we don't need quite as many working on the Æthelmund anymore."

Then, following Elarith's lead, Taeth retrieved a bucket and rejoined the line working to control the Æthelmund fire.

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Éomund
Campain


Éomund paused for a brief second in his bucket brigade running to look up at the Campain. Sparks were flying high and the wind was carrying them a great distance. For now, they were flickering out before they landed on any flammable surfaces, but unless the wind died down, the sparks could easy fly a great distance. The woman (Gwai) he had followed from the other burning building told him to go to the courtyard. Éomund nodded. "Try and wet things?" he asked, coughing a bit. The smoke was starting to burn his throat and eyes a bit.

Without waiting for a definitive answer, Éomund hurried over to where another man (Wamba) seemed to be in charge and joined in the group trying to keep the nearby surfaces wet. The red glows throughout the city seemed to be lessening, but the inferno of the area next to the courtyard was extremely worrying. The large Campain building appeared to be beyond saving at this point and the team had moved on to damage control. Hopefully they could prevent the fire from spreading deeper into the Courtyard

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Image Laewyn

The No-Longer Empty Campian Arena


"The westerly building," she cried, pointing at the larger building directly past hers, where the wind was sending golden embers.

There were many hands now, fighting the blaze and watching the falling cinders too. Laewyn didn't feel quite so much pressure now, which was good because she was tiring, and the smoke, which she had dodged down below was causing her some problems every now and then, for the wind was picking its moments and sending smoke directly at her occasionally. She could feel the harshness of it in the back of her throat, though she had managed to keep from inhaling too much, she thought. She had managed to keep the small building free of fire, so far - stamping or smothering the fire with one of the wet blankets, but she was vulnerable up here and she'd heard someone say at least twice, "Don't go getting yourself injured, you'll only make more work for others!" It was rather a tall order, since this fire was a freaking menace but she understood the sentiment at least.

She spread the wet blankets over the most likely areas of the roof to get bombarded, and climbed down the ladder again. She was desperate for a drink, and the little kitchen in the building provided a cordial which coated her throat and made her feel somewhat normal again. She ran outside again, taking the cordial with her in a satchel, and joined the ground troops fighting the fire from a safer position.

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The Residential District: NPC: Malachite Copperstick

Mal
watched the child (Beda) make her way down the street with the woman (@Amhran) who’d offered to help find her mother. The Dwarf’s face writhed with indecision. He should go with the wee bairn! She was in for a nasty shock when she reached the infirmary and, if his intuition proved true, would need all the comfort she could find.

But such a journey might go ill for him too… What if he found the shrouded body of his sister in the hospital? What if Amethyst had been mortally injured somewhere in the city?

The rumble of cartwheels and neighing of horses pulled the Dwarf from his musing, and he stepped from the road as a heavily laden wain drew up alongside a row of shops and houses.

An abrupt flash of white light and rolling boom filled the night. The shock-wave from the exploding bakery struck Mal in the chest and midriff, driving him across the pavement. The lip of a drinking trough struck him hard in the thighs and knees and tipped him backward.

The Dwarf surfaced with a splutter and lay on his back a-time, relishing the cool water, as he weighed up his next course of action.

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Shadowfox, human, they/them (non-binary)
The now extinguished Residential District,
following Wamba to Campian

The explosion and suddenly charging horses had taken Shadowfox completely by surprise and it was only thanks to their trained acrobatic skills and the horses' careful training not to harm another that had them diving aside dexterously enough that the pair of equines were able to pull up short of trampling them. They stood back up and dusted themselves off, waving away anyone who came to check they were ok, and glanced about for where there bucket had gone in the peril of the moment. Then they spotted the still dripping Calimir with their bucket at his heels and blushed profusely, mortified. "Oh I am so sorry about that, good sir. I didn't look where I was throwing it, that is, I just turned and saw the horses and..." They reached into a small pocket of their skirt (yes, Rohan has dresses with skirts, huzzah!) and pulled out a dainty pink handkerchief to offer to the Gondorian, nervously scratching at their own fine beard while they did so. [/i]"Please accept my sincere apologies."

Right then, their attention was drawn to where Wamba was calling out "There's more work to be done, and we've got to go uphill to do it!... Buckets, axes, pikes, brooms, stout hearts, and good cheer! Upward now - Forth Eorlingas!" They hastily retrieved their bucket from Calimir's feet with a respectful half bow/half curtsy, before running to join the crowd that followed the bell-bedecked man to the still burning fires deeper within the city.


When they reached the burning arena and Wamba ordered the group to split into three, Shadowfox found themselves impressed and privately embarrassed to witness the group quickly divide themselves to the task as they themselves hesitated with indecision, not sure where they personally should go. Then they spotted a face through the smoke, someone they recognised from the Mx Meduseld competition, and instinctively found themselves drawn toward familiarity. Even as Gwai turned to head away to the Cavalry Courtyard with Éomund and Amadhrill, Shadowfox followed after a few steps behind, empty bucket still tightly gripped in hand and eager for some direction.



Grimthain, human, he/him
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary with Amethyst Copperpick @Elarith

The dwarven woman seemed quite keen on engaging in the discussion regarding her handbag, and he was relieved that the stereotype he had heard rumours of was at least in this case holding true. Grimthain had no personal experience with purses and handbags really, although now he came to think on it they did seem to be extremely practical things and he pondered why he had not considered getting one before. He still wasn't entirely certain he needed his to be quite so *flamboyant* as this woman's; he had no objection to such flair and floweriness, and had quite a good deal of respect and admiration for people who were so outspoken and brash in their statements of self, but they just weren't really his style. And he thought he would draw the line on naming his bags and talking to them or, Bema forbid, feeling it duck and fish treats, no matter how handsome or pretty they may be, although he opted not to say as much out loud.

"There is no need to bow or concern yourself with such formalities in my presence, good lady Copperpick, I am but a humble cavalry soldier who would by far prefer to keep you comfortable." He continued to try and keep her engaged in the discussion by following her enthusiastic lead. "You are correct that so many bags lack all the pocket and compartments that make them useful; I am rather fold of my saddle-bags for that reason, but even a mule-faced man like me would struggle to pull of lugging around a saddle-bag everywhere I go. It is a relief to discover that there is another option available on the market. Your offer of a pattern is very kind; I am still a novice when it comes to seamstressing and leatherworking, my own skills only really having been tested on basic repairs and upkeep, but mayhap with your guidance I can develop my repertoire? Perhaps with less rhinestones though, I agree. I am honestly quite impressed that you yourself designed the bag; is it your craft and art that designed your outfit today as well? For that is just as impressive, even to my untrained eye, if I dare say so myself." He wiggled a finger in his ear again, that weird squeaking noise was back; perhaps his hearing was the problem.

Then Thali appeared and took over, offering her a flask of tea.
"Chamomile tea from the cavalry is simply the best, hæland Amadhrill taught me that!" he commented as an enthusiastic aside while Thali removed the headdress carefully from Amethyst's head and laying it carefully to one side. Grimthain instinctively went to pick up the delicate piece for fear that someone might stand on it in the mayhem. He looked around for a moment for somewhere to put it safely, and then chastised himself for so foolishly disregarding the woman's own handbag as the most obvious location to store it. He hesitated for a moment before handling her likely very precious belonging, but she seemed temporarily distracted by Thali's ministrations. All the same, in deference and respect for the woman he attempted to address the bag as best he could while he reached to put the headdress within it.

"I... er... I'm sorry to bother you.. er, Krystalle. But I'm just going to... if I may.. put this safely, oh!" He blinked in surprise at the little face that blinked up at him from the confines of the bag, wide, terrified eyes, little triangle nose, two pointed ears. "Oh!" He said, in sudden comprehension, and then more pitifully, "Oh you poor thing, you must be terrified." He knew better than to reach into the bag towards the frightened little cat within; it was a miracle that the creature had not fled already, and he had no intention of routing it from its dark hidey-hole or letting it feel its safe-space was being threatened. He knew cats, and they seemed for the most part comfortable with him; he had never been able to keep one of his own, living at the barracks as he did, but he had gone out of his way to befriend many of the local strays and pets that had lurked around Helm's Deep. He laid the bag gently back down and blinked slowly at the scared creature, keeping his eyes closed for a while in a feline display of trust and calm, while he kept his voice soft and smooth and as purr-like as possible. "Its ok, your mummy is here and you can see her in a moment." He said, then when he saw the creature looking a little less like it was about to bolt in fright, he carefully re-closed the bag's lid, wanting to keep the cat safely tucked inside so it would not be frighted from its hiding place and lost amid all the mayhem and bedlam.

By the time he turned back the dwarven lady was seated upright, and Thali was bandaging the woman's head. Coupled with her slightly tousled elaborate hairdo and stained dress it made her look quite the picture, but he carefully kept his expression friendly and compassionate as he placed himself beside the dwarf in a position where he could catch her and stop her whacking her head again if she should suddenly turn woozy again. He felt a little guilty that he had thought the woman was a little mad, although he had to admit he had never heard of anyone carrying an animal around in a handbag before, so it would still be fair to call Amethyst eccentric.
"It would be my honour and privilege to stay with her, sir" he responded to Thali when she said she would need to help others, and then he calmly lifted up the handbag and gently placed it in Amethyst's lap. He spoke in a quieter, more confidential tone once the healer had gone. "I think someone would appreciate a bit of a stroke and a cuddle, Lady Copperpick" he said, pointedly looking at the handbag to avoid any misunderstanding "though I would advise about lifting her out of the bag until we have found you both somewhere less manic to rest in. Were you guested at one of the Inns here in the city? I daresay a couple are no longer habitable..." he said, the understatement of the year "But should you need somewhere to rest and recover I can see about finding you some safe and pleasant lodgings until you are recovered, and ensure you have company to help you tend to your injuries. Should I be sending word or seeking out anyone in particular?"

Old Mother Mute (for no-one has yet learned her name), human, she/her
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary with Nymlac @Lailorn

Thankfully a very capable and composed woman (Thali) came to her rescue, and soon had her patient resting in the recovery position. She nodded and rolled her eyes at her comment that he smelled like a brewery, considered her enquiry as to whether she had once been a healer herself. She ponderer the question, then shrugged and nodded in clear affirmation, her hesitation mostly being due to her dislike of the term 'used to be' when she was still continuing to eek out a humble living as a local healer and herbalist, with a little baking on the side. She might appear fragile and elderly, plus incapable of speaking, but she still had all her wits about her. She shifted so as to let Thali assess and correct her bandages, sighing with relief when she was at last able to relax her left arm and let the injured wrist settle into the sling. She listened with interest to the description of the Infirmary, smiling and clearly tempted by the invitation. When the woman started asking questions more difficult to answer questions of her, such as asking for her name, she made her hand into a puppet-mouth gesture and made a mimicry of it talking, then tapped her lips and shook her head in indication that she could not respond with words, and then shrugged in indication that she had no way of giving her name. She had nearly 30 years of perfecting communicating with looks, gestures, whistles and tongue-clicks and. when the situation required it, slapping people; she had learned to get by well enough without speech, but sadly due to her lack of literacy skills, communicating her name was not something she had ever effectively achieved, and most of those who would remember her as anything other than 'Old Mother Mute' were either long dead or far from the city. She seemed not in the slightest bothered by the lack of name, however, as she patted the unconscious Nymlac a little possessively in indication that she would remain to keep a eye on him while Thali saw to other, more pressing matters.

She watched with perceptive, curious eyes as Thali approached the young girl (Beda) and pondered for a moment the subtle change in demeanour that had appeared in the hæland. Then she glanced across at the covered body only a short distance away, then back at the circle of worried faces around the young girl and, putting two and two together, felt her old heart clench a little for the youngster and the loss that she was likely about to discover. Too young, Mother Mute thought to herself as she shook her head and clucked her tongue, turning back to Nymlac to check him to offer the group some privacy; too young to lose a parent, but hopefully the girl would be strong enough to endure it.


OOC @Lailorn (Maybe when he learns that he was tended to by a battered old homeless widow, he will learn a little remorse and respect for others?)

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From the Residential District to the Campian Arena area

What the kindly touch on her shoulder hadn’t stirred in her, the explosion surely furthered her full and sharp focus back on the fire fighting efforts. The unexpected concussion of a blast very nearly knocked her off her feet as she was making her way, and she banged against the flower box of a nearby home, grabbing it to steady herself a moment. She took the chance to discretely lift her facecloth and bow beneath the box to clear the bloody phlegm from her aching throat.

Clutching the pilfered blanket close, which she swore an oath to replace, she caught the commands being shouted by the Fool, and decided to take the second option. There was a grind and shifting in her feelings towards him, thought she didn’t take one extra second to figure out why. Coughing now and then, she wound her way up the hill, hoping there would be other sources to soak the now-filthy blanket to swat at sparks and embers. She knew that even if she couldn’t keep it dampened, just pounding hot spots down would be better than nothing.

After a time, she stood upright stiffly, forcing herself to breathe in measured rhythm to minimize the coughing, she began to wonder if she would be of more use at the Infirmary. For now, she would remain here, at least until the worst of it was contained. But as soon as she could, she would locate it and offer what small help she could give.

Back to the beating, she realized that the song that was usually and always a background in her head was fading.

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FIFTH UPDATE


Map design by @Aodh Hammerhelm

The scene is lit with bright light for a second as lightning forks across the sky directly above the city, the Golden Hall gleaming momentarily in the light with an almost immediate rumble of thunder. Large, heavy drops of rain start to drop intermittently, threatening a heavy downpour in a matter of minutes...


The Aethelmund Tavern
(Text colour #670088)
Post Contribution Total = 12

Elarith and Taeth, supported by half the gathered cavalry troops (NPCs), have remained behind to keep watch over the collapsed, smouldering tavern, and it is a good job also for it seems that the generous supplies of alcoholic drinks stored in the buried cellar below are sustaining the sputtering flames even despite the lack of clear air. Smoke continues to billow from the wreckage, and clearly the fire is managing to draw air from somewhere to keep it sustained, but where? Even while the busy work-groups finally began to get the Campian blaze under control, the two cavalry woman can feel that even the ground beneath them is starting to feel heated to the touch as they keep their vigil; it seems that they have to cut off wherever is providing the supply of air to the cellar. Does the tavern have an extra exit or secret tunnel somewhere?


The Empty Campian Arena
(Text colour #FF40BF)
Post Contribution Total = 12/16 (+4 from the Infirmary to put out the last of the fire) = THIS FIRE HAS BEEN EXTINGUISHED

The veritable army of fire-fighters who suddenly descend on the Campian training, commanded into military order by both Taeth and Wamba, aided in their efforts by Eomund and Bereth who are later joined by Leawyn, soon the advance of the spreading blaze is slowed, then beaten back until the inferno is broken down into separate pockets of manageable fire that are encircled by groups. Each team co-ordinate their efforts to launch bucket after bucket against the fires still spitting embers into the dark night sky, finally and after great effort starting to smother the pockets of flame one by one, a large patch of the neighbouring dampened cavalry fencing left black and smoked but undamaged.

Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary
(Text colour #000000)
Post Contribution Total = 15 (-1 to put out the Horse and Rider Inn, -2 to put out the Residential District, -4 to put out Campian arena) = 8 remaining

While Amethyst is left being tended by Grimthain, and the drunk Nymlac is being watched over by Old Mother Mute, Amhran has arrived with Beda who is querying after her missing mother brought only a short time ago. Poor Thali, already rushed off her feet single-handedly managing the care of numerous patients and still reeling from Gléonild's death herself, must now face the terrible task of breaking her passing to her loved ones.
(NOTE:- Posts in this location count towards whichever fire location is closest to meeting its target, to ensure they are included in the most effective manner, but can only be put towards a location where others are actively fighting the fire.)


NEW LOCATION!

The Dragon Room Roof
(Text colour #FF8000)
Post Contribution Total = 0

Thanks to Laewyn's forward thinking the sparks that land on the near-most building in the Cavalry Courtyard (the cavalry infirmary) find no place to catch as they land on sodden blankets placed on its roof by the Rohir. The winds are still strong however, and Wamba's established watch crews are soon enough shouting up a cry of "Fire! Fire on the Dragon Room roof! Fire!" At least at present the flames are minimal as they try to find solid purchase on the building's roof even as the first spattering of rain threatens a downpour, but if they are allowed the chance to establish themselves too closely and the winds carry the rain onwards yet another building might be in danger of being claimed by the inferno.


Other RP Locations where the fire has been extinguished

The Horse and Rider Inn
(Text colour #000080)
Final Post Contribution Total = 10/11 (+1 contribution from the Pop-Up Infirmary to put out the last of the fire)
(Please note, posts made in these locations will after this update no longer count towards the fire-fighting, but by all means feel free to continue RPing your stories here in this thread if you wish)


The After-Party Tent
(Text colour #008000)
Final Post Contribution Total = 13/11
(Please note, posts made in these locations will after this update no longer count towards the fire-fighting, but by all means feel free to continue RPing your stories here in this thread if you wish)


Auld Town Residential District
(Text colour #804000)
Final Post Contribution Total = 24/21 (+2 contribution from the Pop-Up Infirmary to put out the last of the fire)
(Please note, posts made in these locations will after this update no longer count towards the fire-fighting, but by all means feel free to continue RPing your stories here in this thread if you wish)

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Elarith

Now that the building was largely collapsed, Elarith had thought that the fire would be out sooner rather than later. She watched a group of soldiers head off to the Campian buildings, followed by a gaggle of civilians heading from the north, and the flames over that way began to die down then finally stop altogether. Yet the Æthelmund was still burning. Bucket after bucket had been passed up but it still would not be extinguished. Despite many incidents of being burnt to the ground in the past, this was The Pub That Refused to Die.

She could feel the soles of her boots heating up. Not sure if this was weariness setting in and making her confused or something else, Elarith called over to Taeth again. "Is it me or is the ground itself warm now?" Then, after another thought, "How far do the cellars under the Æthelmund stretch?"

@Taethowen

Amethyst Copperpick plus handbag

Amethyst inclined her head at Grimthain. "With the proper application, Mr Grimthain, of course you could create a fine bag. All your Cavalry friends would be very jealous too, darling, I'm sure."

She plucked at her scorched and blackened sleeve. "Oh, this! My awards ceremony outfit. I don't get to wear it as much as I would like... Though sometimes I put it on whilst I do a bit of ironing, just to give it an airing." And pretend to be accepting all kinds of medals and prizes, but no one needed to know about that.

Then the healer-in-charge was back. Amethyst opened her mouth to explain that the duck and fish weren't for her, although she wouldn't have said no to some, but Thali had already thrust a cup of tea in her hands and started examining her head. She thought it was best not to interrupt someone prodding fingers around wounds, so she quietly sipped it whilst trying to ignore the nausea that sitting upright again brought on. She hadn't realised how parched she was, and she enjoyed the soothing warmth as it trickled down her throat. The dwarf was relieved when the healer said her head wound wasn't too bad and would just need a bandage. For all she was well practised with needles, she had never liked them being stuck in her.

A thought struck her as Thali approached with the linen strip. "I hesitate to ask, but I don't suppose you have a bandage in a nice shade of dark blue? Only it would hide any blood better, and blue is so 'in' right now..." she trailed off. Maybe not - this was only a make-shift healing station, she could hardly expect a rainbow of bandages to pick from. (Maybe this was an idea that could be developed upon though for future business. She tried very hard to lodge it in her memory banks).

"Thank you, Thalionwen Hunigfolm, for your care," she said, reaching out to touch the woman's hand in gratitude before she had to leave. "And thank you too, Mr Grimthain, for sitting and chatting with me."

Grimthain drew her attention back to her handbag. "Oh poor Krystalle, she'd had such a trying time even before the fire broke out," she said, then opened the bag up and reached in to stroke the kitten's head. Krystalle looked sorrowful, but then that was Krystalle's default expression unless she was eating something or clawing something. "There, there, my precious little flumfkin, you stay nice and tucked up," Amethyst cooed. The kitten remained sorrowful.

Grimthain mentioned lodgings, and part of his comment made her snap her head round so fast that her vision swam again. She put a hand to her forehead for a moment until it passed. "What? What d'you mean, some of the inns won't be habitable?" she asked him. For the first time, she really looked round, noticing the walking wounded, the shroud-covered body, the soot and strong stench of smoke. This was far, far worse than a small blaze in a tent ought to be. "Is all this from the After-Party tent?"

The scale of the damage outside began to dawn on her. "And I've been sitting here twittering on about bags, for Mahal's sake!" she said, exasperated with herself. She looked Grimthain in the eye. "Do you need to be going off and doing heroic things? I'll be all right here, I'm sure, there are plenty of people around, and I have a bandage and tea now."

@Thalionwen Hunigfolm @Allacan ob Burzum

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Grimthain, human, he/him
Thali's Pop-Up Infirmary with Amethyst Copperpick @Elarith

"You've been sitting here keeping me company and stopping me from being afraid." He said earnestly, and in a moment of unexpected intimacy he took the dwarven lady's hand. He meant those words; it was a rare declaration of weakness for the old veteran. He had taken her own distraction as an opportunity to look around, and had similarly caught sight of the covered body. He had knelt there only a short time ago; could it possibly be the same woman whose terribly burned back he had witnessed and had nothing more to offer to her but than to call for help. He did not look around the tent for her face, he didn't really need the confirmation. He wasn't entirely sure why he had believed that if a healer could reach her all would be well, but he had just presumed - or perhaps preferred to pretend - that Thali could achieve the impossible. Now that he thought about it, the hæland had returned so fast from tending her that the woman had probably not been far from death when he reached her side. For a moment, guilt tried to sink its teeth into him, but he shook his head and let it go. If Thali had not been able to do anything for the woman, then a clumsy non-medically trained oaf like him would never have stood a chance. Still, he was silently grateful to the Eastmark hæland for saving him from that particular trauma, and marvelled at the courage of the woman who even know was putting her own feelings aside to speak with what might very well be the woman's child.

He shook himself back to his duty; focus on the living, he chastised himself mentally, turning back to Amethyst.
"I can only surmise the bandages are white so it is easier for the hælands to see if any bleeding has stopped; I'm sure that once the wound is properly scabbed you can wear any colour you like as a fashion statement; I hear there is an excellent seamstress' shop in the Riddermarket who do a wide array of colours, mayhap we can visit it together when you feel better so you can get some elegant headbands, and you can recommend a colour for the lining of my new bag?" He could see that his pleasant tone wasn't managing to distract her from the horror of the situation around them, and sighed a little before answering her later question in a quieter, softer tone. "This is not all from the After-Party fire, no. For some inexplicable reason there were two other fires that broke out elsewhere in the city around the same time; I dread to think that it was arson, but it seems to close in time too simply be co-incidence." He opted not to go into detail about where exactly the fires had been located as he did not want to distress this woman too badly until he knew more about her own circumstances; the last thing she needed to learn was that a building that may have held her own loved ones had been caught in the fires when they had yet to ascertain how many victims had fallen to the flames. "Please, mi'lady, do you have friends or travelling companions in the city? Is there anyone we could send for?"

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Thalionwen
The Infirmary

Steeling her courage, Thalionwen reached out and took Beda's hand in her own. She'd learned how to let the words she sometimes had to speak wash over her as if she were an immovable stone, even as her heart broke within her chest. It was a useful skill for a haelend, who must not be the one to fall apart. Any news, no matter how dire, must be delivered with composure, and with reassurance.

Composure, and reassurance.

"Beda, I have something very hard to tell you," Thalionwen said softly. "Your mother was brought here to me. She was hurt beyond help, and I sat with her as she died. I can't--I don't want you to see her just yet. Let me look after her, on behalf of you and your brothers and sisters. I'll bring her down to my Infirmary on the outskirts of the city. We've been safe from fire there and I have a place on a hill where we could lay your mother to rest. You can see her then, and say goodbye. I know it's so much to think of just now, and I promise you--I promise you, Beda--you won't have to manage alone. I'll make the arrangements and you needn't think of anything, besides keeping your family together. Even there, I can help. I have places to stay, at the Infirmary, not just for the sick and injured, but for those who have nowhere else to go. It isn't much, but there's hot food twice a day and animals to take the littlest ones' minds off things. You could stay as long as you like, and if this friend you mentioned, Sheemie, has lost anything in the fire--well, he could come too. You should be with those you love and who love you right now, my heart, but you shouldn't have to worry about any of this yourself. Please let me help. Please let me take care of things for you."

Waiting for her words to register, Thali swallowed back tears and willed herself into calm. Into the perfect model of a kind and untouchable haelend, who was enough for all life's troubles--a firm friend who could be leaned upon in tragedy, as well as in hurt or illness.

@Eléowyn
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Lailyn, Residential District

Lailyn wiped the sweat and tears from her face with a sleeve and nodded at one of the men who'd been tearing the houses apart (Calimir). "I'd say good evening, but it isn't really is it?" she asked. "Some rain would be a blessing right now," she admitted. "Will we be so lucky?" she wondered aloud.

Another man (Wamba) rallied them to continue onward to fight the fire she could see in the distance near the Cavalry Courtyard and Meduseld itself, but now that the immediate threat passed, she remembered Nymlac unconscious on the field and then gone...and she felt a nervous twist in her stomach. He lived in Auld Town. What if he'd gone home, fallen unconscious again and died in the fires?

It was hard to tell in the night, amid the smoke, if the fires had burned near his home. Fear dogged her steps as she walked the streets toward his home, hoping she would find his house still standing. Despite his appalling attitude, she knew there was another side to him that he didn't often show, and he was a friend as well as family.

When she reached his house, she released a long breath of relief to see it still standing. She marched up and knocked on the door. Was he home? Would he wake? She waited for a while and even peered through the windows, but there did not seem to be anyone home. What if he'd similarly passed out in the streets somewhere and been lost?

There was nothing more she could do now, so she marched on and left Auld Town behind.


Nymlac, Infirmary Tent, stirring...
Nymlac was completely unaware of the ministrations of the injured old woman in the darkness of sweet oblivion. He was blissfully unaware that anyone worried about him, cared for him or that his cousin was desperately searching for him at that very moment. But his escape soon ended as his eyelids fluttered open and he found himself very much not in the kind of place he preferred to wake up.

He groaned. His mouth was dry and his throat burned a little from his earlier episode of being sick. Which he did not remember at all, by the way. Of course being drunk often expelled the worst memories from your mind. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. The first person he saw was Mother Mute at his side. He rubbed his eyes with one fist, then narrowed them. "Where'm I?" he mumbled at her.

(OOC @Allacan ob Burzum - Wouldn't it be nice? But probably not likely...apologies to Mother Mute on the author's behalf. )

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Pæthfindian Taethowen
Æthelmund Pub


Taeth thought the bottoms of her feet were hot because she'd been on them for hours. Until Elarith spoke up, and Taeth paled. She crouched down and held her palm to the earth and swore as heat seeped through her glove.

"I have no idea how far they stretch," Taeth answered Elarith when she stood, turning to survey the crowd around her. A nagging thought in the back of her mind sent a chill spiraling through her stomach. "But if they're burning, then the supports are burning too, and the ground might cave in.

"We need to figure out the boundaries, and get everyone outside of where the heat is rising from. Hopefully there's an entrance, but I suspect it's too close to the pub. We wouldn't want to open it anyway, it would likely just fuel the fire more. We need to find a way to block it."

Taeth took a few steps away from the pub, and crouched down to test the ground's temperature again. Still warm. Bema damn it, how far out did this cellar extend? She took a few more steps away from the pub, and checked the temperature of the ground again. Cool now, thankfully.

"Cavalry!" she hollered as she stood again. "The cellar beneath the Æthelmund is still burning. Check the temperature of the ground you're standing on! If it's warm or hot, move! Keep checking the ground until it's cool beneath your touch. You don't want to be standing there when the supports burn away!"

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Dragon Room

“Not the Dragon Room!” Gwai thought to herself desperately as Wamba's scouts called the dire news. Fortunately there was water available in the Courtyard, and the bucket brigade soon started up again. The roof was trying to catch on fire, but so far had not yet turned into a true blaze.

Gwai glanced behind and saw Shadowfox, holding a bucket. “Shadowfox!” she said hoarsely, glad to see a familiar face. She was unable to stop her cough, and stumbled over and grabbing them by the shoulder. “If the Dragon Room catches fire the whole Courtyard could go up! Help me find a ladder so we can get the water up toward the roof quicker!” she said, so dizzy from the smoke she had breathed in the Æthelmund she worried she might fall off ladder, but they had to do something.
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Meduseld Éored

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The Infirmary (NPC Beda)

Beda heard the words, she understood their meaning, but she could not accept them. “No, that cannot be right,” she said, her voice shaking. “The dwarf, he said she was hurt, but he did not say dead. Are you certain? Maybe she is only sleeping really hard?”

But Beda did not need the hæland to answer. She could see the sorrow in the woman’s eyes, and the pity. The tent felt suddenly very small, and stifling, and Beda was afraid she might throw up. She swallowed hard and asked if she might have a sip of water.

She drank a little of the quickly offered cup, trying hard to gather her thoughts, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not focus. Somewhere in that tent, she surmised, lay Mam, and she was glad the hæland did not want her to see her yet. Until she saw her, cold and without breath, Beda could pretend it was not true.

The cup was now empty and the nausea had passed. “I thank you for your kindness,” she said at last, doing her best to act in a way she knew Mam would approve of. “I … I have to go find my brothers and sisters. I will bring them to your infirmary. I … I do not know how to tell them. Except for Almod, he is nine, I do not think they will understand.”

She felt a tightening in her throat, and her eyes were filling with tears. She did not want to break down and cry, not yet. The bairns were out there waiting for her somewhere.

“I will be back come morning,” she said, rushing her words now to get them all out. “Thank you, thank you both,” she finished, with a nod to the woman who had led her to the tent. Then she hurried out into the night, glad for a task to occupy her thoughts.

@Thalionwen Hunigfolm @Amhran

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Hurrying to the Dragon Room

Cal' wiped his eyes clear. "There's no need to say sorry" he said to the strange Rohir (Shadowfox@Allacan ob Burzum)"Crazy things happen in crazy times."

The lad from Gondor saw they had got the fire out and under control in the street. But there was no time to rest. He could hear shouts from up the hill.

"Come on boys!" he yelled to his gang as he ran after Shadowfox. "Four of my lads will stay with you," said to Lailyn@Lailorn as he jogged by her. "Just in case the fire starts here again.. "

Cal' realised he didn't know the names of his gang. He would introduce himself to them properly when all this was over. Soon he could see another burning building. Cal' saw they had come to a place visitors normally didn't see. He was in the Cavalry part of town and a large building was in danger.

He joined a bucket brigade and began the whole weary job of moving water to the roof. Sonewhere he could hear a voice he recognised (@Wamba_the_Fool) and the sound of merry tinkling bells.
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Campian, pivoting to the Dragon Room Roof

Wamba the Fool was right pleased with the way the Riders reacted so swiftly. From the first cries of "Fire on the Dragon Room roof! Fire!" the centrally-stationed reaction force moved out with a will and a quickness enough to make any Marshal proud. Combining forces with the other Riders who'd been coming from other areas now under control, the Fool was sorely tempted to throw everything at this last conflagration -- anything to get this day over! -- but something held him back.

 "You all stand by here," he addressed the gang that had successfully extinguished the fence, "You're the reaction force now. Get some rest, get some water, but be ready."
He grinned ruefully. "I'd tell you we're almost done, but Bema only knows what else this night may bring. I'll tell you this however - you've handled yourselves as well as King Eomer or anyone else could ever ask. Continue to do so!"

 His eye was caught by Bereth coughing and he approached her with concern in his voice and words.
"You've done much, Lady. Get you now to the hælend's tent, I pray - whether or not your own hurt is eased, I doubt not you'll find a way to ease others'."
"Bolster!" he motioned one of the young lads who'd been keeping watch over to her side.
"Go with the Lady Freablod and help her however she needs." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "This is a great honor ye've been given, lad; a chance to prove your mettle. Go on now!"

((OOC @BerethBolster is a good lad; play him howe'er you need.))

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The Dragon Room roof? Laewyn thought dazedly, stumbling a little, but following the shouts and sounds of the more seasoned cavalry folks. Was it that round building? It was hard to know what all these cavalry places were called since there weren't signs helpfully placed outside the buildings. Perhaps it was a secret that only the cavalry were permitted to know? If it was the round building, it wasn't the building she'd shouted about - perhaps it hadn't caught the way it looked like it was going to ... she would have to check. She'd never forgive herself if she didn't.

Slightly disoriented, but heading back around the building she'd climbed down from, Laewyn went to discover if it had avoided the sparks she'd seen heading its way or not. On the way, she took another drink from her flask. Her throat was raw.

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Infirmary, then out into the town

Amhran startled as if out of a brief reverie, nodded to the haelend and told her "I'll be back later", and strode out after Beda. She knew she was running the risk of seeming officious, but in the time it had taken for Thali to explain to Beda that her mother was dead, Amhran had remembered with all the suppressed horror of the last twenty-three years how it had felt the day she had come back from a half-day's ride of pleasure and found her homestead burned, her parents slain, and the mark of the White Hand on the charred remains of the barn door. She, at least, had had her father's relatives to take her in; this little girl, by her own admission, had no one. Amhran felt a niggling sense of responsibility. She was not, of course, by any legal or social sense bound to the child, but she had taken her for the time being under her wing and maternal instinct forbade her to allow Beda to shoulder such a burden on her own. She would therefore stay with her, at least until she could be released to the care of someone with more resources to help than Amhran currently possessed... if such a person existed. If not... well, they could deal with that if it came up later.

Amhran caught up to the girl. "Beda, I know you probably want to be alone right now. I remember what it's like to lose your mother. But I have children of my own and if their father and I died, I know I would want someone to look after them. Would you let me stay with you, at least long enough to find your brothers and sisters and see you back to the haelend? I promise I won't talk if you don't feel like it." A pause - then she remembered something else. Beda didn't know who she was. "Oh - my name is Amhran. If you need anything, I'm here."

@Eléowyn

((OOC: I don't actually remember Amhran's original backstory, but judging by the sort of writing I did back in 2002, "family killed by orcs" sounds par for the course.))
Last edited by Amhran on Thu Aug 27, 2020 3:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Shadowfox, human, they/them (non-binary)
Dragon Room

When Gwai approached and sputtered out some words between coughs, they did not immediately react to her suggestions. They recognised the sound of an overstrained, injured throat; all properly trained stage performers knew such dangers. Instead, they glanced around and spotted the man-with-bells-on (Wamba) ordering others to take a short rest and sending a woman who looked more exhausted than the rest Bereth towards the infirmary.

They lay a hand on Gwai’s shoulder, so she could not slip out of sight, and shouted over at Wamba as they led her that way.
“Sir Fool, mister, sir!” it felt absurd to address someone as such, but it seemed the easiest way to get his attention among all the milling bodies. “This woman is exhausted and needs to rest; she has just been hacking and coughing so badly she could barely get her words out, I fear the smoke has damaged her lungs.” They pointedly kept their face turned away from Gwai, downright terrified of her disapproval or anger, but not willing to see her put herself at risk when she was clearly in a poor state. A cry went up that a ladder had been found, and Shadowfox glanced away but did not yet let up their grip on Gwai until Wamba had acknowledged their request. “Please, I have to go help; I trust you will see that she starts looking after herself?” And then they dashed away, fuelled a little extra by the fear of the possible outcome of pitting two clearly commanding people against each other; they dearly hoped Gwai would not be angry at them, but did not look bad to check.

There was little time for anxiety and fear; the response team had laid the ladder against the building a safe distance from the fire and someone - a wigend - was already preparing to head up with a bucket clumsily tucked over their shoulder, sloshing water down their back, promising that there would be little left by the time they reached the roof.
“No!” They barked, their voice uncharacteristically confident in the peril of the moment. “Let me go, I’m the fastest. Fetch a rope, quickly, we don’t have much time.”

Perhaps it was the self-assured tone in their voice, or perhaps it was the nervousness of any non-acrobat to climb so high, but they ceded the ladder to Shadowfox. Taking the skirt of their dress - so lovingly and carefully adorned earlier that eve - roughly in hand, they bundled it together out of the way, baring their legs with little shame. Then, alleviating Calimar of a water-filled bucket without recognising him in their hyper-focus, they skilfully knotted it’s handle around the proffered rope before looping the cord around their waist, so that the bucket dangled behind them below their buttocks. Then, looping the remaining coils of rope around their shoulders, leaving both hands free to climb, without waiting for another moment they set hands and feet to the rungs.

The pace Shadowfox set as they scaled the ladder would have been impressive at the best of times, but it was the less obvious smoothness of their motions that was most worthy of credit. It stopped the bucket from sloshing and losing its precious contents. After years of training in acrobatics with a travelling performance troupe, followed by years of hiding from cruelty and discrimination among beams, bannisters, parapets and rafters, they were exceptionally dexterous and skilled in climbing, well suited to the task. They reached the roof quicker than expected and wasted no time tossing the contents of their bucket over the growing fire only a short distance further along the thatch; many of the flames sputtered and went out, but the embers still kindled and threatened to re-ignite.

They extricated themselves from the ladder and seated themselves on the roof itself with legs dangling off as though uncaring of the drop below them. Then, removing the rest of the rope they tied its ends together like a long loop, bucket caught midway along. Looping one end of the loop over their head - the length furthest from the knotted bucket - they hollered out to those below with the booming projection of a thespian;
“Mind your heads, bucket incoming!” Then they dropped the empty bucket over the side, feeding the excess rope out in their hand to slow it as it neared the floor so it wouldn’t clock anyone on the head. Once the bucket had been caught, they hooked the end of the looped rope still with them over one of the horse-head decorative posts on the roof itself, so that the rope could be used by those below to haul loaded buckets up to whoever was above.

This done, they glanced back at the roof fire and frowned; despite their racers’ pace and a bucket of water, it had already rekindled and was looking ready to spread, and currently they had nothing to hand to fight it with as they faced it alone on the rooftop. They tried to breath calmly, waiting for reinforcements via either the empty ladder, or the bucket-lift-rope.

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Room Roof

Ber narrowed her eyes at the ground as Wamba spoke to her, and indignation flared unreasonably, though she did her best to not frame her thoughts into words. ‘He is sending me away again! Again. If he hadn’t the first time, I would not have ...’ But she was already beginning to lay the foundations to wall off those faces, those sweet, terrified, innocent young faces. She had such a dreadful premonition.

With a chill calm, she would not meet his eyes, but mutely permitted the young fellow, Bolster, to lead her towards the Infirmary. At least around the outer perimeter of the Dragon Room building, rapidly trying to think of a ruse to dislodge herself from his escort. But within moments, a perfect excuse presented itself as they both looked up in awe at the impossibly agile figure seemingly glide to the roof of the Dragon Room roof and begin a hurried vertical bucket brigade upwards.

Placing both hands on his left shoulder, she employed her most forceful, commanding tone, garbled as it were, “Go! Your able help is far more needful here. I’m quite certain the Belled One would not disagree.” She could not continue her argument, voice spent.

Mercifully, his sense of honor must have been in agreement, and he turned to lend his youthful strength to filling the roped bucket. Strong muscles knotted, fueled by the urgency of the situation, he easily filled it, pulling with a steadiness that sloshed out as little as possible, and calling up to the one perched on the roof edge to warn of its rise.

“Hoy, you, up it comes!”

Ber watched for a few breaths, and then skirted around the corner to continue putting the lovely blanket to its newly christened use. Still, she was slowing down, spitting blood and ignoring the desperate yearning for a cool drink. Fighting against the truth that the the Fool was probably right, she would not last long at this pace.

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The Dragon Room: NPC: Malachite Copperstick

Mal emerged from his trough as fresh shouts rent the night. He stood head cocked, water pooling around his sodden boots, as his eyes flicked over the surrounding buildings. The signs of another fire winked hatefully in sky behind the Golden Hall. The Dwarf growled his displeasure, tightened his belt and took up the Rohirric axe once more.

The streets were quieter now, no longer crammed with harried rescuers or fleeing citizens, but running in soaked clothing was not an option. Mal’s toes rubbed uncomfortably against sodden leather as he puffed uphill toward Meduseld. There’d be hell to pay in the morning – chafes and blisters aplenty, he thought unhappily, freeing the seam of his wet trousers from the cleft of his 'hind for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

At last, and with much discomfort, he found the site of the latest conflagration, a large building which stood at the centre of Edoras’s military complex. There were bucket wielders aplenty, but few folk attending the smouldering roof of the building.

Mal hobbled forward seeking a way to the rooftop, then, agile as an ape from the South, he hurtled up a ladder held in place by two stocky Rohir. “Hoy, good folk!” the Dwarf yelled, as he sprang onto the roof. “What can I do to help?”


--
@Allacan ob Burzum * @Bereth * @Calimir * @Gwai & @Wamba_the_Fool

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[Environs of] The Dragon Room

Wamba the Fool wrote off the sense of chilliness he perceived from the Lady Freablod as him being an attentive student of human nature and not anything ridiculous like having once been an attentive student of her nature. She was a wise lady, she'd make the right choice.
She can be as stubborn as a mountain mule when she wants to be, the thought presented itself to his conscious mind, and was ignored. There was no category for how the Fool would know that, and thus that information must not exist.

His attention was captured by Shadowfox's presentation of a wigend from the standing Cavalry. He flashed a quick, tired smile at Gwai and offered her an arm to lean on.
"Pæthfindian, isn't it? This is your territory, so there's certainly no ordering going on here, but the hælend's tent sounds like where you need to be. Can I have someone show you there? Ah, just in time!"

A wigend from Gwai's eored approached, perhaps concerned as to why some fool was accosting his Pæthfindian, but more concerned with the coughing that wouldn't stop. The Fool swiftly turned his attention to him and spoke quickly.
"Sperewigend, this Pæthfindian has been rendered such that her location of duty is now the Hælend's tent; please escort her there, as you see fit."

Wamba winced internally, hoping that his shortness would be interpreted as urgency and not condescending imperiosity. He really didn't like the sound of that cough...

@Gwai

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Just outside the Pop-up Infirmary (NPC Beda)

Beda had not gone far when she heard someone call out to her. She thought of hurrying on as if she had not heard, but instead she stopped, wiped a sleeve across her wet, sooty face, then turned. It was the woman who had led her to the hælend’s tent, and her voice sounded so kind that Beda decided to wait for her.

“Is that true, miss,” she asked, “that your parents are dead also?” She knew that grown-ups sometimes said things to get children to talk to them, and she hoped this was not the case. The last thing she needed right now was untruths. But this woman had no air of falsehood or deceit about her, so Beda decided to trust her.

“I was told that my brothers and sisters went outside the city walls. I was going there now to look for them. If you would, that is if you are not needed to help with the fires, maybe you could go with me?” Mam had always drilled into the children that you never took what you could not pay back in some way. Beda did not know how she could pay back this kind lady, but she thought that perhaps Mam would have forgiven her because it meant maybe finding the children quicker. After all, two sets of eyes were better than one.

(OOC: @Amhran : I am going to be posting in the Infirmary thread, which is running on a timeline of being the morning after. I will continue here as well, doing as so many others are currently doing—playing fast and loose with time. As you will see when that post goes up, Beda will be going to the Infirmary alone, but I will leave behind a possible task or two for you, should you wish to undertake one. :smile: )

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(OOC: @Amhran and @Eléowyn As far as the Infirmary thread goes, I have to get in there to make one more post dealing with a few things, but as soon as I do we can assume the Infirmary has moved on to afternoon on the day after the fire, if that's helpful. I plan to make a note to that effect in the post I'll be putting up in a couple hours)
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