Life in the Mark II (Free RP)

Where now are the horse and rider? In here, probably.
Dúnadan
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South bank of the Snowbourn river@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @WRONG LEVER KRONK!

The lad from Gondor helped Beda up from the ground and stepped in front of her. The filthy crow was dead at least. Where the others had gone or if they would come back was something they would have to deal with later. He was relieved to hear Beda ask Sheemie to take her dead brother back to Edoras, but he was less pleased with the way the tall Rider (Sighard) had spoken to him. The man was not much older than Cal' and of course he was from Rohan, so Cal saw how he would want to take charge of things, especially as the man seemed to be one of Rohan's cavalry.

The problem was that Sheemie and Bambu would be leaving. Maybe Mr Bells (Wamba) too? That would leave Sighard leading a search with Beda and no trackers or back up if they found themselves in danger. That was likely if what the man was trying to imply had happened. He seemed to think something had happened to Lida and the other children that wasnt because of the flood. Was he thinking someone had done something to the children?

It was a quite confusing and Cal was getting tired of all the arguing. "Bambu!" he called to the Wildman. "Will you not stay and help us? We need someone who can look for tracks and things. I promise I will repay you. I have spoken to the nurses at the infirmary and asked them to get medicine ready for your chief's sick son!"

While Cal waited for the Wildman to answer he knelt on the grown by Almod. He made sure his body was between the dead boy and Beda and took off the green cloak and folded it. Cal took off his own sable cloak and covered Almod gently with it. The metal clasp flashed brightly in the sun. Cal' undid the clasp - the white tree of Gondor - and pinned it on his shirt.

"Sheemie, you can take Nuthatch if you need her. I think searching on foot will be better." Calimir, took Beda's hand and turned to Sighard and Mr Bells (Wamba). He held out the green cloak to Sighard = "I wish you had more of the cavalry out to help. What has become of the famous Riders of Rohan? Their trackers would be really useful now."
man of gondor < Image > heart of rohan

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Lailyn with Æric
“You should have your kitchen back by tonight.” Three days ago she would have been glad to hear those words. She'd been so eager to get it started the day she walked into his shop...somehow in those three short days, the faint spark she felt when she met him outside his shop had become something more. And no matter how she tried to put it aside, it seemed to be growing instead of fading away.

“Good,” she replied but it lacked enthusiasm. Hoping not to offend him with her tone, she continued, more warmly this time. “You’ve worked so hard, I never thought it would be done so soon...I do appreciate it. And- and all the things you did that you didn’t have to do...” She trailed off, suddenly feeling like she was stumbling over her words again.

She stole a furtive glance at him while they walked and wondered...if she could pluck up the courage to invite him again, what would he say? They were nearing the house with every step and she slowed her pace without noticing, wishing it wasn’t so close. When she looked at the house framed by the pair of trees, she remembered one small thing that was enough to lighten her heart.

Pausing abruptly in her steps, she turned toward him with a bright expression. “Whenever you come back to fix the hole in the wall, maybe we could have lunch again and I could make up for almost ruining it today.” She paused and bit her lip. “Unless of course you only eat with customers who have broken kitchens." A playful grin crossed her face and her hazel eyes glimmered with amusement as she gave him a curious look, hoping she hadn’t taken a step too far.

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Ærn Anhyrne, Eastfold

"I won't forget," Taeth promised. "And I will write, even if Ceadda has to read the letters to you."

The women pulled apart then, and when Trewyn handed her the bag of food, then hugged her again. "You really shouldn't have," Taeth whispered. "But thank you."

Ceadda had already wandered off to take care of whatever he'd put on his agenda for the day --Taeth couldn't quite remember, but she'd been impressed with his diligence in the short time here she had worked directly with him, and knew that the estate was in good hands--but the girls were smiling and giggling as she mounted Gefyrst, and Taeth couldn't help but laugh as she rode away, the girls running alongside the mare for a few brief moments before they could no longer keep up.

Just before she crested the nearest hill, Taeth turned back briefly and returned their farewell wave.

Her heart still grieved, and she knew that it would be like that for a while, but she didn't feel quite as hopeless as she had when she'd arrived.

Horse Trainer of The Mark
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w/Sigrid
Éo couldn’t help the wide, amused grin at her smile. He rather hoped he never got used to the jumping in his belly at the happy look on her face. And her promise eased the tension in his shoulders. The lack of experience was nice in that he was able to learn from her and there was no awkward history or distant emotions to cloud now, but the same lack made him nervous. He didn’t want to hurt or pressure her into something she was uncomfortable with. And he wasn’t entirely sure where those lines were. But she would tell him, and he had no reason to doubt her promise.

So, he kissed her as she requested. With an absent thought to their rather precarious position in the tree, he wrapped his legs firmly around the branch before pulling her closer to him. He liked the feel of her against his chest, her hair on his fingers. And he really liked kissing her. Éo let his thoughts drift, just focusing on how she felt, and let her pull away finally.

“Sometimes I feel like duty is overrated,” he said, mostly joking. “But I suppose we should go. I need to have time to get the chores done before dinner, and I expect that no one has cut wood since the last time I did. And Hild will have a bunch of questions for you,” he grinned at her as he shifted away on the branch. “She thinks I’m still a lad in need of a keeper, I think.” He laughed, glanced down for the best route to the ground.

They weren’t terribly high and this tree had been his playhouse as a boy. With another boyish laugh, he tipped himself off the branch, slowed his fall with his hands on another and touched down neatly onto the lawn below. “Are you coming?”

Black Númenórean
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Who's Your Daddy?
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Private with Frost)

Her story tumbled out in an unrestrained deluge of words, the tale of a deeply unhappy young woman; mistreated, alone, confused, and lost. Bergljót came by the table as Walpurga was speaking, to deliver the requested food and drink, but Kamion merely gave her a polite nod and a smile, and the innkeeper bustled away again, bristling with her curiosity. The Dúnadan listened intently to Walpurga as she ranged from uncertainty to sadness to anger and self doubt, and back through the gamut again. As her voice trailed away, he dug into a pocket ad produced an unlikely object for the figure he presented: a handkerchief, old and worn, but clean and soft, its hem neartly repaired in several places. Kamion reached across the table to hand it to Walpurga wordlessly, then retracted his arm and considered her for a long moment.

“Maybe you were wrong,” he said carefully, “but that doesn’t mean you were wrong to try, or that you made a bad choice. You know who I think was wrong? Your mother.” Kamion voice was calm and level, but his brow creased, the only outward sign of his outrage at the woman’s treatment of her daughter. “You took that book because you wanted to learn to read. You wanted to better yourself, and there is no crime in that. Literacy is one of the greatest gifts a person can give themselves, and everyone deserves the chance to learn. Maybe she was jealous, or maybe she hated that the book reminded her of your father- who knows what drove her to say such terrible things to you. But you chose to try something new rather than endure it any longer.” his voice did not grow any louder, but it increased in earnest intensity as the Dúnadan went on, and he rested his folded arms on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Walpurga, we’ve barely met and I am so proud of you for leaving Benton. No one deserves to endure that kind of treatment from anyone, much less their parent. And maybe Edoras isn’t the right choice for you, but now you know that. Cities… cities can be hard. Sometimes it feels as though a city could swallow you whole and no one would notice or care. And military life is similarly hard- I’ve been a soldier all my life, and it isn’t for everyone. Maybe the Cavalry isn’t for you either. It sounds exciting and romantic and patriotic to serve, but the reality, as you’ve discovered, can be far grimmer.”

Kamion gave a slight sigh and sat back, assuming a more relaxed posture again. “You’re right. I can’t give you all the answers you’re looking for, but I can offer a bit of understanding. I never knew my mother, you see,” his smile was a bit wistful as he spoke; Kamion could not remember the last time he had spoken of his mother. “She vanished when I was scarcely more than an infant, and I know little more of her than you do of your father. All I have of her is her name, and her eyes.” He tapped one finger against his temple, and his smile crinkled the corners of his cobalt eyes. “Much like your father, I know not whether she lives, though it seems much more likely that she perished long ago. I always carry a faint hope that she might still live. But when someone has never been part of your life, is it wrong to not be sad at the thought they might have passed on? I don’t think so.” Kamion rubbed one hand up and down on the back of his neck for a moment, wondering if he might have said too much. But it was too late for that now, and he plunged on. “It’s alright not to know what you want. It’s alright not to know who you are. And it’s alright to realize you’ve made a mistake and need to move on. You may not feel you can go back to Benton, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay here.”
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

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Æric with Lailyn

Why was the trip back always quicker? Or more importantly why was he hoping for it to last longer when it was clear that Lailyn was not interested? Or most importantly, why was he concerned whether she was interested or not? Brows knotted and eyes staring off into the distance, he only half paid attention to the praise of his work, briefly wondering what all the extra stuff he had done was.

He had taken a couple of steps before he realised Lailyn had stopped and he turned to see why when she caught him off guard with the invitation. For a moment his eyebrows twitched together in confusion as she sure did give a lot of invites for someone who was not that interested. Again, why was that important to him? So many questions and confused emotions were cluttering his mind that it took him a moment too long to catch the joke. Should he laugh? No, he had missed the window on that one, damn what then? He couldn't just stand there like some imbecile, that was sure to make her regret her invitation. Coughing to clear his throat and delay a second more he instead gave her a smile. He felt lame that it was all he could think of, but it was at least genuine.

"I think that would be nice and I guess just this once I can ignore that you won't have a broken kitchen. But only because you have a broken wall." Feeling silly for what he said, he gave another smile, the gratitude evident in his eyes. Yes it did matter to him, he realised as he looked down at her. Even if it never went past a friendship, it was really really nice to have a friend. An adult to talk to. Sprits lifted now that she made it clear that she did not mind having him around he kept the smile and extended his hand towards the house.

"Shall we?"

***

Sigrid with Éo

The kiss was over far too quick, the moment so fleeting that it almost hurt. She took a moment to picture everything in her mind, remembering every single detail of this precious moment and locking it into her heart. She did not have many fond memories, but now that she was with Éo, there was definitely a chance of making several of them and she was going to make sure that all of them were treasured too. She also realised just how much she liked hugs. While kissing was of course wonderful and breathtaking, there was something so comforting and secure about having someone wrap their arms around you and pull you in close, bodies touching. She definitely wanted more of those. And the kisses.

Her mood became a little more solemn when he mentioned his sister, unable to not worry whether the woman would even like her or not. For some reason it was important to her that she did. Though hopefully his sister did not see her as a bad match for him. True she had no money whatsoever, or a house of her own. But she had a job as a healer. Surely that would be enough, right?

Gasping she snapped from her quiet reverie as Éo suddenly titled forward and sprang off the tree, almost losing her balance as she tried to reach out for him. Only then did she hear his laughter and let out a nervous chuckle to hide her fear. Before he could catch that she had been afraid, she too took the exact same path down as he had, agilely swinging off the same branch and landing right next to him. Breathless at what she had just done, she looked up at him with a huge grin, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

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South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPCs ~ Sheemie Rheus & Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

Sheemie stood cradling Almod’s cloak-shrouded body in his brawny arms, as he waited to see what his Beda-sweoster planned to do next. He was surprised at how heavy the dead lad felt. It was only last winter he’d piggy-backed the bairn, and lifted him into the climbing tree down by the river orchards. Almod had been light as a feather then, now he was cumbersome, like a big sack of turnips or ‘taters.

“I go with, yes!” Bambu said at last to Calimir. “I see you ride river at Tub Race - you good man, brave and true. Tell tall Forgoil (Sighard) to follow and no speak. Sangoma-man, he go with Moon-face. Rustman-daughter she come with us! We go same-same where Bambu walk before. Look good while we go. See if no more sign of lost nganis. We go dead-child-tree first… After to tree and loud stones where Bambu find hair and torn dress.”

--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Wamba_the_Fool @WRONG LEVER KRONK!
--

Four leagues downriver of Edoras: A hut, north of the Snowbourn: NPCs ~Bran Wænnfót & Symond Beorma

The child's fall had robbed Bran of the moment onkel Symond left the world. The lad lifted Lida from the floor and laid her, head back, upon the table. The drop of sleeping tincture, or bumped nose, had glazed her eyes and she moaned softly.

Bran cursed his luck, and haste. He'd not meant to plunge the lass back into unconsciousness; the next part of his plan required her to be compliant, but mobile. When he was sure that she was breathing normally, he tilted her shorn head toward the table surface. A rill of blood from her right nostril soaked into the dry pine planks.

Bran scurried over to his Symond's chair, it creaked ominously as he knelt and rocked it forward. He placed a palm under his uncle's slack jaw and tilted the old sot's head against the headrest. He leaned in close, feeling for a pulse, and peered into Symond’s vacant eyes.

The lad growled as a mixture of anger and disappointment burned like acid in the pit of his belly. His right hand fell onto the handle of the slim knife at his waist. He snarled now in frustration, clasping his slender hands together, as he quelled the urge to pop his uncle's eyes from their sockets with the honed steel of his specimen blade.

Careful, now! a silky voice seemed to whisper in his head. You have to use your illusion, sonny-jim. Don't ruin what you've laid out so cunningly with puling and tantrums!

As a wee boy, and from the time he was old enough to reason, Bran had wished Symond dead. Every night, and especially after another unwarranted thrashing, he lay imagining all the ways he’d be free of the old beggar. Life on the river was a perilous one, after all. Surely the drunken bum would one day fall prey to misadventure?

But, of course, his wish never came to pass, and as the days became months, and then years, Bran began to plan his uncle’s demise.

His schemes had been crude in their infancy, and liable to place him at risk of discovery and punishment. He could not smother his uncle, or pinion him through the chest with naked steel, as he did with the wee woodland creatures and insects he so avidly collected.

His burgeoning knowledge of plants had provided the answer, and two in particular. He’d mastered, mixed and distilled a killing draught of belladonna and mandrake in the last month, and it had served its purpose admirably.

But the old sot had cheated him!

Onkel Symo' had slipped away into oblivion while Bran’s attention was diverted, and robbed him of his revenge: the chance to lean in close, and watch with glee, the last remaining light in the old beggar’s eyes. Oh, how he’d longed to marvel at the guttering flicker, between the living world and the void, as he roared into Symond's writhing face: “I killed you, onkel!”

There’d be other times to see life flee human eyes, of course - times aplenty. But they would never be as sweet as the first time he’d committed murder, and could never match the sending off of his hated kinsman.

Bran leapt afoot suddenly. He had work still to do, and do quickly. He took up Symond's boots, crossed the room and gathered Lida into his arms, then stepped out of the cottage. He loped off downhill, and found himself whistling cheerfully as he neared the eaves of the darkling wood.

--
@Eléowyn

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Eldrith, human/ she/ her
In a quiet part of Edoras with Allecan


Had she been dangerous in the campian with a sword in her hand? It seemed she was more dangerous here and now, with the quiet observations, the wind playing with her skirts and the words without heat as she dismantled what lay between them to the essence. First there was the shield, the unreadable expression as she explained. But then that shield broke.. oh it didn't shatter like glass under a blow, but those who fought knew the dangers of the hairline fracture, where pressure was all that was needed. The words of your reply before rolled like swift streaming water in a mountain brook, trying to find a place to rest, trying to explain. Oh she knew what you were feeling. The anger at promises not kept. The hollow emptiness of glory. The legends on which you were weaned washed out in the blood of comrades and the screaming of men and horses. And then.. worse would have come when the battle was over. You had given, but the story that your life wrote was not what it should have been. Not the epic of the old heroes. The glory in battle faded in the pain, the fatigue and the truth visible to too many old soldiers eyes: blood makes the grass grow.. but the men and women who gave their life, who died in battle, lived only now in the hollow echo of remembrance. Perhaps because she was not.. rohirrim.. perhaps that's why she understood

And then.. she applied that pressure on the fracture in one simple question. Were you a threat? Was it coincidence or skillfully done? Whatever it was, it was enough to get through the defenses.. something within you.. broke. Enough for honesty, she thought. Enough for her to thrust that the raw emotion she saw was real. She had let you speak, uninterrupted, like the grain on the fields that bow under the storm but do not break. There didn't seem surprise at the confession that you had tried to take your own life, and the dark eyes flickered down at your hands for just a moment as if to confirm their emptiness. Only at that last did she cant her head. It seemed as if her face showed.. fatigue, and the words when they came, came slowly.*

You believe me capable of ending your life. Either in honorable combat, or simply by taking my knife and slitting your throat like cattle, when you do not offer resistance...

*The words fell into the silence, now only disturbed by your own ragged breath. There had been something underlying your words. No fear. But more. A plea. You wanted it to end, if not your life then at least the duality within that tore more apart than anyone would have guessed. There was weight to that silence, just as there was to every breath you took, and the way her eyes searched your face until finally she seemed to make a decision.

Her hand moved, but instead of towards the knife, it went to the satchel she carried. And then she sat down, right there, on the grassy ground and pulled out a bottle from that satchel and two small cups. They were the scarred metal that were taken by travelers and warriors alike, battered and without much beauty in them, but serviceable to get water from a stream, soup from the camp kitchen set up for the night and ale or mead if it was shared around the fire. She poured a small amount of golden liquid in each of them, corked the bottle and handed over a cup.8


Westu, Allacan Hal..
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Kill-Stealing Skirt Wench
When others ride out to win renown, let me chosen to tend the house.

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Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
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Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras


Sighard was growing weary. The only reason he'd taken charge, of a sort, was because he'd been the first one to investigate anything, but he was willing to defer to more experienced elders if they were actually going to do anything. Instead, he was having to play some odd tug of war between Calimir and Bambu--who'd essentially kidnapped the baby in the first place--all while children's lives hung in the balance. And for some reason, everyone seemed to think it was his fault.

As Beda asked Sheemie to take Almod's body back to Edoras, and Sighard couldn't deny the small amount of relief he felt when Bambu said he'd go with Sheemie, though his mouth settled into a thin line at the Dunlending's comment about harsh words and hard eyes. If he thought courtesy meant not questioning anything, then Sighard was glad Bambu was leaving of his own free will. He'd not been harsh, simply looking for more alternatives than merely assuming all the children were drowned.

He scowled a little when Calimir asked Bambu to stay, and Bambu agreed, but asked that Sighard keep his mouth shut, and that was utterly ridiculous.

But Calimir, fortunately, addressed him directly, asking about the Cavalry, and Sighard thought it was far past time to put matters straight.

"There is no other Cavalry involved because I was on my way into Edoras from the Aldburg when I heard an infant crying along the river. I came to investigate, and that was when I found Almod deceased, and then shortly after met up with Wamba. He was going to help me look for any other children when the babe started wailing again, and we found that Bambu had taken him, for whatever Bema-damned purpose. Any of you could have asked for aid of the Cavalry long before I was even in the area."

Here Sighard cringed slightly, giving an apologetic look at Beda for his language.

"We'd barely come upon Bambu when the rest of you arrived, so you know precious little less than I do, and probably more. Bambu insists that the river has taken the rest of the children, based only on the lack of tracks--which could have easily been washed away by rain--and a scrap of nightgown, and some hair. Hair that, to me, looks to have been cut rather than torn from a child's scalp.

"The only reason I have taken charge of any of this is because I am Cavalry and I'm oath- and duty-bound to protect the Mark and all of its citizens, and because I was the first one to stumble across any of this and actually do something. Bambu may have found the infant first, but despite clear signs that there were more children involved, he simply took the baby away for his own purposes."

Sighard turned to Bambu then, and if the Dunlending thought Sighard had been harsh and hard before, then the man was soft. "I will follow and defer to those who know more than I do, but I will not be silent. If the river truly has swept away these children, then we may never find them. So if there is any chance that they are not in the river, it should be pursued. Furthermore, I have no reason to trust you. I've been courteous from the start, never assuming you meant the child harm, nor anyone else in the Mark. But you have been prideful and haughty, not willing to hear consider an opinion that contradicts your own. I don't care how what I say or do makes you feel: the priority is the children."

Sighard turned back to the girl then, and his eyes softened a little. He knew what it was to be an orphan, all too well. But he'd never known what it was to have a family. "I am sorry, miss Beda," he spoke. "For taking up precious time, and for any additional hardship I've caused you, however inadvertently, so far."

Sighard motioned back upriver, toward the tree where he'd first found signs of the children. "When I arrived here this morning, led by the infant's cries, I found two articles of clothing--a dirty, discarded diaper, and a soiled shirt that had been its replacement, and that was when I realized there were at least two children out here. I followed the Snowbourne downriver until I found Almod's body--lacking a shirt--and Wamba happened upon me just after I'd pulled the boy from the river.

"This is why I question Bambu and his intentions now, about the assumption that the other children may have been swept away. Because he didn't check to see if there were others in need of aid before making off with the baby."

@Eléowyn @Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Wamba_the_Fool

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Lailyn with Æric
Despite the ease with which she spoke, she had doubted herself right away and waiting for his response somehow felt like a lifetime and no time at all. As she studied him, anticipating another evasive response, she caught the slight furrow in his brow before it smoothed into a smile. She wondered again if he thought her too familiar or too earnest.

But his answer pleasantly surprised her and she felt her worries fall away. Lailyn released a quiet laugh, both relieved and glad that he had agreed to something. Even if it involved another repair.

Maybe one day she wouldn’t need the excuse of work to see him again. There were so many reasons she shouldn’t hope for it, knowing she couldn’t trust herself but she felt sure she could at least trust him. It wasn’t that she planned to do anything wrong but she also knew very well she might not remember her good sense if she got lost in a moment. And a moment was all it took to cross the line of friendship. If she could call it that.

“Then I don't mind having a broken wall if it means I can enjoy your company again,” she admitted with a relaxed smile to match his own. After bringing up such painful memories, she was glad she might have lightened his mood some. “Though I have to say the hole does let in a nice breeze this time of year," she joked.

It was nice to see him at ease, smiling again, and she felt her own steps lighten as they approached the house. Inside, it felt cooler sheltered from the bright sun and a pleasant breeze drifted in through the windows. Holding the door open for him, she surveyed the house with a satisfied expression. Soon it would be a real house and it would sink in that it was all her own.

“Well, I will let you get back to work…” She began with a glance in his direction. “I should do the same if I want my bees to survive this winter. I suppose it will be here before we know it.”

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South bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda

Beda took the tattered cloth from Sheemie and looked it over carefully. It was indeed Lida's nightdress, but the hair could still have been Saewyn's. That both were found in the river was not a good sign, but Beda was not prepared to give up hope. She nodded silently in agreement that the cloth was from Lida's gown, the catch in her throat preventing her from speaking for a moment.

The men were still arguing, and Beda was close to simply walking off on her own while they frittered the day away. But at last they seemed to have come to some sort of understanding as to their next move. Beda swallowed hard and blinked back the ever-present tears, then addressed Sighard first.

"I did not ask the cavalry for help" she said, "because I thought the children were simply wandering around somewhere near the gate. Or had been taken in by someone in the confusion." She was trying hard to hold herself together, but all of her mistakes just seemed to keep piling up. She felt like throwing herself in the river in atonement, but for the fact she was now needed, more than ever.

She now looked each of the men in the eye, in turn. "I thank you, all of you, for helping, in whatever way you can. Can we please now follow Bambu," she pleaded, "and find my sisters and brother? Sheemie, if Wamba will accompany you, I will find you later in the city. If not, you should wait here and guard Almod from those nasty crows, should they return. You cannot bear Almod alone all the way to the gate."


@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Resistance is Futile @Wamba_the_Fool

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Wamba the Fool

"Come, Sheemie," the Fool offered the lad, "Almod shall have Esol to bear him. We shall go slow and easy, and you can keep him secure on the way."

Wamba removed the saddle and adjusted the blanket that had been underneath. With the saddle over his back in one hand and Esol's lead in the other, he waited patiently for Sheemie to be ready to depart.

((@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Resistance is Futile @Calimir OOC: Apologies for the absence folks, hope it hasn't made the story too whack.))

Knight of The Mark
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(OOC: @Wamba_the_Fool Not at all, we all have wonky schedules these days. Glad to see you back.)

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Æric with Lailyn

This time he managed a chuckle at the right time, a small sparkle lighting his eyes. It was nice to joke around again, he had not done that in.. ages. Come to think of it, Kara had not really been much of a joker and he had therefore never really done it either and before that he had been alone for years. The smile remained as he followed her into the coolness of the house, grateful that he would not be working outside in the late autumn sun, that could still get quite hot.

When she mentioned her bees again, his gaze flicked towards the back garden, still both fascinated and curious about them. He could not quite understand the attraction to them. To him they were just insects and nasty ones at that when they stung. Though he had to be fair to them, it was likely more wasps that he had been stung by and the bees that had got him had been accidents. Still. Stingers.

His thoughts quickly returned to her as she lingered, feeling his stomach jump a little. For a moment he softly chuckled to himself as he could not recall it doing that since he was a teenager. Though unlike her he did not have anything he needed to get done before the winter came. Just having a shop instead of a house and fields made sure that this year he could just focus on saving up, the little shop would be fine for the winter. Then hopefully one day he could once again give Edda a home.

Giving Lailyn another smile, he set the remains of the picnic on the table and then grabbed another board and set to work. However this time the smile remained as he got down on to the floor to hammer the board into place.

OOC Feel free to jump to the end of the day if you like!

Thain of The Mark
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“You believe me capable of ending your life. Either in honorable combat, or simply by taking my knife and slitting your throat like cattle, when you do not offer resistance...”

‘I’m counting on it’ a part of her replied, but the words never made it out past her own ragged breathing and simply resounded in her head. Only the part that had good wishes towards Rohan believed it; the other more sinister fragment of her identity had been slumbering and was now beginning to rouse as it sensed some shadow of a threat. That selfish, cruel facet was ever ready to defend itself, which was part of her problem. She had wheedled past its defenses once only to be waylaid by a third party; it would not that mistake again, so now she was at the mercy of others to facilitate her defeat. She waited, not daring to hope, her every ragged breath a weighted plea, every muscle in her body instinctively readied to take the blow as she tried to not consciously acknowledge the truth of the request, lest she betray herself.

She watched Eldrith’s hands move not towards a hidden blade but into her bag, and felt the tense beast within shift uncomfortably before eventually subduing into wariness as it saw her making no threatening movement. At the sound of her name she flinched, looking for just an instant like a wild creature poised between flight and fight. Her eyes dropped to glance at the memorial, and beneath her breath she whispered that other title she had borne for a while
“Dulug ob Burzum.” Speaking it aloud, even if barely audibly, seemed to appease the beast within and she felt some semblance of balance and order return. She looked back at the woman seated on the grass who then offering her a drink.

She didn’t immediately approach to take it, but instead reached into her sleeve, paused to show she was taking the item secreted there between fingertips only, and drew out a knife to drop it onto the grass at her feet. She did the same a few more times, retrieving cleverly hidden weapons from both boots, her small of her back and even somewhere near her shoulder blades. All of these were dropped on the floor in an almost ceremonial manner. Each time one landed amongst the grass, she straightened a touch more, like a burden was being lifted. At last, fully disarmed and confident that her ability to harm this woman was muted, she stepped forward and say cross legged before her, accepting the cup with a quiet
“Westu Eldrith hal.”

As soon as she was seated with the glass in her hand, she felt it. There was a magic here; not the powerful influence of a istari or the ingerited mysticism of the elves. This magic was both more subtle and indirect, and yet somehow innate, instinctive and natural. It was the magic of the Tavern-master, the art of equipping someone with a drink and sitting with them, that somehow compelled them to reveal their deepest, darkest desires and internal torments. It was the magic that might otherwise be harnessed by confidantes and counsellors, that every torturer needed but most often overlooked, a skill that few could master as capable as Eldrith.

She almost gave in to its enchanting draw, confessing her desires, her belief that she had not yet broken any specific oath (having subtly bypassed the cavalry oath this time around). Her self-belief that she still retained some aspect of morality and honour. To share her considerations around identity and the ability of people to change, sometimes so much that they should not be beholden to their earlier vows, especially when those changes were facilitated by martyrdom, torture, amnesia, forced reprogramming and reflective reconsideration.

But she resisted, just, with a rueful smile at herself that an insightful character like Eldrith would not miss, though whether she would interpret it correctly she would likely never know. Instead, she sipped the drink and allowed the quiet to rest for a moment. Then at last she summoned the courage to ask
“So, where do we go from here?”

Ent Ancient
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Lailyn's house with Æric
Seeing his face further relax as he let out soft laughter under his breath, she felt herself warm again. He seemed so serious when she first met him, this side of him was a pleasant surprise. Well...meeting him in general had been a pleasant surprise. Despite her conflicting feelings.

She still felt lighter than she had earlier in the day as she stepped out the backdoor into the garden. When she knelt down to start working, she looked back toward the house and smiled to herself. Maybe there was also a chance for something more...the thought could not be helped even though she tried not to let it take root. She had felt a flicker pass between them, just for a moment, when she’d stood there with her hand in his.

By the time the afternoon sun had climbed soaring into the sky, she was beginning to feel done in for the day. She had made more progress already than she ever expected she would, having filled in more flowers in place of weeds and even managed to sow a few rows of vegetable seeds. Her muscles ached and twinged as she stood up. She stretched her arms in front of her to release some tension and then wiped her brow.

Her hands, like her skirt, were smudged beneath specks of dirt and green smudges though she tried to wipe them clean. This time, she approached the back door with a measure of trepidation. Some of the awkward tension between them might have eased some, but she had a sneaking feeling it might return if she happened upon him bare-chested yet again. She had decided it was not quite fair how many times that had happened already.

After she walked back inside, she gasped as she took in the new repairs. “It looks like a real house,” she beamed. “I have to say, I was afraid when you came by to see it, you’d tell me it wasn’t worth fixing and I should never have bought the place…but I won’t have any excuse not to finish unpacking now.”

She looked down at the floor, once a rotting hole and now restored, and though she smiled appreciatively, she also felt a strange upwelling of emotion. To see something broken and ruined become new and whole again. Perhaps that was what she really wanted for herself and no one could do that but her, one step at a time, toward a new life.

“I’ll just get your payment and I’ll be back,” she said quietly before slipping away to her room. When she returned, she held a pouch of money she’d counted up ahead of time and grabbed the packet of honeycakes off the table so he wouldn’t forget them. When he seemed to have finished and gathered his things, she held them out to him with a smile. “Thank you, Æric. It was nice meeting you…and Edda. I’ll see you again when I’m ready to have the wall fixed,” she said, then with a touch of hope added, “if not before.”

---

Lailyn, Taethowen’s house, Edoras
A few weeks after the fires and the market-stabbing and the stress of moving, life in the city had settled down some. With the house unpacked and the kitchen repaired, Lailyn felt the house was starting to feel like a home. Her days had taken on a rhythm, though she enjoyed the freedom of knowing that aside from her shifts at the Cavalry’s marketplace office, she could keep her own schedule as she pleased.

A basket sat on the kitchen table which she’d slowly been filling with food. Once she had the last of it packed, Lailyn slid in a few bottles of mead and was ready to go. With a peek out the window, she spied gathering clouds in the distance and grabbed a light cloak on her way out. Basket of food in hand and her cloak strewn over one arm, she set off into the gathering dusk for Taethowen’s house.

Twilight painted the clouds pink and the darkening sky was cast beneath a blanket of orange and gold. The streets were quieter than during the day but a few folk ambled about on their way to and fro and seeing them go about their lives was a comfort to her. The evening felt calm and the feeling bled into her as she made her way west toward Auld Town.

As she neared her old friend’s house, Edoras felt more and more like the city she knew. The back of her neck prickled though it was not from the dying daylight. It was that feeling again. The streets here were familiar and yet strange; she had lived in Auld Town with her mother so many years ago. The beginning had been hard in the wake of her father’s death but it had grown easier with each passing day. Maybe she just needed more time to adjust now, too. Though she could not help wonder what her mother would think of her now, refused to let the thought cloud her mind.

Even though she was eager to reconnect with a friend from the past, she felt a small bubble of nervousness when the house came into view. She had known Taethowen when she was young, a soldier, stronger, different from the person she was now. For a moment, she hovered outside just looking at the house, but then shook her head. Maybe it would be good to talk to someone from her old life.

Lailyn stepped up to Taethowen’s two-storey house and knocked on the door.

Master Torturer
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Æric with Lailyn

He had only just finished with the floor moments before Lailyn came back in. He had indeed worked most of the hot afternoon without a shirt on, but had donned it again as he was tidying up and was giving the new floor a final sweep. For a brief moment he looked down at his work, pleased with what he had accomplished. It felt good to repair things, there was a certain satisfaction in creating something new, but there was certainly also a satisfaction in repairing something old and broken and restoring it to it's former glory. His whole body was aching from craawling around on the floor all day, but it was a good kind of ache gotten from a good days work.

Fortunately he had been able to put all his confused emotions and thoughts aside as he worked as it would likely have resulted in a less positive outcome had he let them distract him as much as they could have. Not to say that might still not happen over the next few days, but at least he had finished his job satisfactorily and to the standard that he put on himself. He was a perfectionist at heart and would even redo the whole thing if he felt that it did not live up to his expectations, but fortunately that was not the case now. The floor was smooth and even, sanded so smoothe it could be walked on with bare feet if needed. Should she ever want to stain the boards, all they would need was a wash and they would be good to go.

As Lailyn came in the jump in his stomach returned, sending mixed emotions and thoughts through his mind once again, though he genuinely smiled at her outburst, pleased that she liked the floor. He nodded and stepped aside as she headed to the back to get his payment, suddenly feeling quite awkward about receiving it. He could not declined it, he truly did need the payment, but it still felt odd to take it from her when she returned with the coins. With slightly warmed cheeks he gave her an appreciative nod and pushed the coin bag deep into his pocket, almost as if embarassed to have taken them from her. The cakes he gratefully stuffed in his pack, knowing Edda would love to have one.

"Likewise.." He had been avoiding looking at her as the money exchanged hands, but now that that was over he looked up at her. Seeing the slight smudge of dirt on her cheek, he smiled and paused as his breath caught in his throat. He almost instinctively reached out to remove it when he realised what he was about to do and instead gave a small cough.

Heart racing he gave another nod and gathered his stuff, hands shaking slightly. What was wrong with him!? Throat tight, he turned towards her as he paused in the open door. "Feel free to come by any time, I am sure Edda would love the company." And me too, though he left that unspoken as he gave her a smile and headed out the door. It only took him a minute to gather his belongings in the cart and turning it around he headed home as the sun set.

Thain of The Mark
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Taethowen's House, Auld Town, Edoras

Taeth returned to Edoras shortly before midday, almost a month after she left. She'd briefly gone by her house first and dropped some things off there, then tended to Gefyrst at the stable. When she returned to the house, Eldreda was there for lunch, the banked fire stoked back into a cheerful blaze.

"I saw your things." Eldreda smiled as Taeth stepped in the door. "I've drawn water for a bath for you. It's heating right now."

"Bema bless you," Taeth sighed as she hung up her cloak and sat down at the table to slip off her boots. A bath in her own home sounded heavenly. "How are things at the shop?"

"Busy." Eldreda began pulling bread and cheese out of the larder. "There have been several Mettare gown commissions in the last few days, including from Meduseld. Do you need lunch?"

"I haven't eaten since breakfast," Taeth answered, pulling off her socks at last and turning to warm her feet at the fire.

"I'll grab some leftover ham from the root cellar too, then," Eldreda smiled. "Oh, and you have a letter too. It's on the desk by the door."

Curious, Taeth stood and went to check it. Was it from Thali? Or, possibly... from him? As she opened it and read the contents, she was a little disappointed that it wasn't from either of them, but she still smiled. Lail. She'd only briefly interacted with her a few times since her return to Edoras, and more than half of it had been on Cavalry business, but she was a connection to the past, and Taeth desperately needed a friend right now.

She sat down and wrote out a quick reply to mail after lunch.

"Taeth?" Eldreda called from the kitchen just as she sealed the note. "Food's ready!"

"Coming!" She returned to the table, letter in hand. "Could you post this on your way back to the shop?"

Eldreda plucked it from Taeth's hand and slid it into her pocket. "Of course!" She slid a plate of buttered toast, sliced cheese, and cold ham across the table to Taeth. "Are things at the estate settled for winter?"

Taeth nodded as she popped a bite of cheese into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Barring any true disasters, they should be fine until I can make it back out there again next spring."

"And..." Eldreda hesitated for a moment, eyeing Taeth is a strange, scrutinizing intensity. "Your husband?"

Taeth set down the toast she'd been just about to take a bite of. "Ah. He... um. I haven't seen him. I haven't... heard from him. In at least four years. I actually had an audience with the king, and he granted me a letter of dissolution. So I... technically don't have a husband anymore."

Taeth bit her lip and quietly glanced down at her lap. Or a lover. But this isn't the time for that.

"Taeth..." Eldreda's voice was tinged with sadness, and she glanced back up at her cousin, blinking back tears.

"It's all right, Eldra. It just wasn't meant to be."

She wasn't sure which man she was talking about, or if it was both.


The next day, at dusk

Taeth felt a little guilty that Eldreda was working late, without help. Things had fallen through with both of her potential apprentices, apparently, and while Eldreda was searching for help for the shop, there hadn't been any permanent takers yet. She'd debated canceling her visit with Lail and going to help her, but Eldreda had said that she should not, under any circumstances, do so. She only had a few days before she had to leave for the Hornburg, and Taeth was not to waste them in the shop.

So she was here, at home, stoking the fire. She'd already pulled out dishes and cups, and since Lail was bringing the food and drink, there wasn't much else she could do but... wait.

She caught a glimpse of a brilliant sunset out the window just as a knock sounded at the door.

Taeth answered it with a smile. "Lail! Please, come in."

She took the basket and cloak from the other woman as she stepped inside, hanging the cloak on the hooks by the door, and ushering Lail further into the house to the table in front of the fireplace.

"How are you?" Taeth asked as she began to pull the foodstuffs out of the basket.

@Little Bird Lail

Chieftain of The Mark
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South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPCs ~ Sheemie Rheus & Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

The morning was growing warm, and humid after the heavy rain, and Sheemie nodded eager agreement at his Beda-sweoster. He didn’t want to be left standing guard over poor Almod, all dead and broked - not with those awful crows lurking somewhere nearby. But it was a long walk back to Edoras on foot!

Sheemie hoped all the arguing was done now, and that Master Bell-head (Wamba) would agree to his sweoster’s appeal. He needed no further bidding once the Fool had quothed his assent. The brawny lad stepped over to the fellow's shaggy steed, waited for the saddle to be removed, then draped Almod gently over the animal’s back. Sheemie placed a hand on the dead boy, and nodded Wamba on.

“Good luck!” he called to Beda, Cal’, Bambu and Sighard. “Sheemie will see youse by the hospital.”


Bambu chose not to answer the tall Forgoil [Sighard]. True, he had not looked for other ngani; his thoughts had been clouded by the sickness of his chieftain’s son.

Perhaps he had missed clues that would speak of the fate of the missing children? He would not admit it though, not yet. His eyes would look afresh at the trail, and see if the Strawhead had spoken true.

The Wildman signalled to the remainder of the group, and made off slowly down the path towards the distant rapids. He’d missed nothing on his initial foray, and he marked no new signs as he bent low to the ground.

“That tree where I find piece of child dress,” he said to the search party, before moving on. “No spoer here… no tracks left by feet small or big.”

The four hunters came at length to a set of rapids. The flotsam of the flood was piled high upon the head of the cascade, and Bambu made his way gingerly out onto the slippery stones. He studied the rocks where he’d found the tress of hair, before making his way back toward the riverbank.

“No flesh or blood on stones… no other signs to read!” he called out above the steady rumble of the rapids. “But what that? Down there in broken trees and reeds!”

The Wildman’s stubby finger pointed out over the churning pool below the rapids. Further evidence of the night’s storm, and the Snowbourn’s abrupt fury, lay heaped upon the far shore.

“Bambu see things in wreckage down below!” he shouted. “Maybe more Forgoil clothing? Something blue, it flaps in wind… Something light too, same colour as Strawheads’ hair. Go you three, path take you down to pool. Broken trees very high, you maybe not see what Bambu see when you get on low shore. Bambu stay here… he direct you.”

The Dunlending waited for the searchers to negotiate the path, and focused on the tangled barrier of the flood’s cast off. Below the fluttering pieces of blue and yellow fabric he espied something which made his heart sink.

He could not be sure, not at this distance, but instinct told him one, or more, dead things lay twisted and snarled in the wreckage of the storm.

--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool
- he hath not forgotten Image the face of his fathers -

Ent Ancient
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Lailyn, Taethowen’s house
Lifting the skirts of her green dress in one hand, Lailyn smiled and stepped into her friend’s house. It was warm and tidy, a welcoming fire cast a flickering glow across the room. “Taeth, it’s so good to see you!” she greeted her.

While Taethowen unpacked the food, Lailyn stood near the table, itching to lend a hand but not wanting to be in the way. Crisp baked pastries filled with egg and seasonal autumn vegetables sat beside sliced potatoes dusted with herbs and half a loaf of thick-crusted bread. Last was a bowl of apple crisp, the layer of oats drizzled with honey on top.

“I might have made too much but it’s so dull cooking for myself.” She let out a self-conscious laugh. “I like living alone most of the time until it comes time to make food. And I’ve got more apples than I know what to do with... I’m going to need some new recipes soon.”

At Taeth’s inquiry, she gave her friend a nod and smile. "I am doing well despite some of the things I wrote in my letter.” Her smile faded a touch and she let out a soft sigh. “It can still be strange to be in old familiar places but I think I'm starting to settle in after everything… I finally finished unpacking, my house is liveable now that it's been repaired and my bees are happy." She shrugged as if to say ‘what more could I ask for?’. "I do have a lot to be thankful for.”

"And yourself?" She asked, offering Taeth a bottle of mead. "I imagine you must still be tired from your travels… was your leave restful or did you have very far to go?" It did seem to her that Taeth looked a little weary even after her time off. Of course, she had no idea what tragic news precipitated the trip.

@Taethowen

Dúnadan
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Looking for the missing children, south bank of the river Snowbourn:

Cal' waved to Sheemie and the man known as Wamba. He watched until they had disappeared into the tall reeds with Wamba's ass carrying Beda's dead brother. When he turned around Bambu was heading off up the path. Sighard of Rohan also seemed ready to resume the search.

"Beda," the lad from Gondor said to his brave friend. "Would you like to ride on Nuthatch? I'm happy to walk for a few miles. I'm not sure if I'll be any at good tracking, I'm an errand-rider not a Ranger, unfortunately."

Cal' wasn't sure if Beda would take up his offer. He hadn't known her long. But he knew very quickly that she was headstrong and determined.

He looked down the path and saw that the Wildman had stopped. He was shouting something about a tree as he searched the ground. Nuthatch neighed in Cal's ear. The Gondorian saw Bambu was on the move again.

"Easy, fellow," Cal' said to his horse. "We'll catch him up when Beda's ready.
man of gondor < Image > heart of rohan

Thain of The Mark
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Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
Image

Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras


As Beda confessed that she'd seen no need to request help from the Cavalry, Sighard felt a bit of shame. He'd been frustrated with the others and their remarks, as if he singlehandedly commanded the Cavalry, and he'd lost his temper.

Sheemie and Wamba departed, then, and Sighard almost wished that he was going with them, but his sense of duty demanded that he see this through, no matter what the others might say about or to him. Calimir had offered Beda his horse to ride, but he didn't watch further to see if she would accept it as Bambu began to lead them further downriver.

Sighard followed silently, leading Háwena behind him. He glanced back at Beda, occasionally, noting that the girl seemed exhausted and distraught. When Bambu directed them to take the path down to the pool below the rapids, Sighard carefully led his mare along the noisy, churning river, and once he'd reached the bank, he looked back up to where the Dunlending waited, waving his hand to let Bambu know he was ready for his directions.

@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Calimir

Thain of The Mark
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Taethowen's House, Auld Town, Edoras

"Lail, this all looks incredible!" Taeth was awed by the spread her friend had brought. "Have you considered opening a restaurant? I think I have some cream in the larder, too. I always love my apple crisp with a drizzle of cream on top."

She gestured for Lail to sit, took the bottle of mead, then retrieved a little more cutlery to serve the food. Taeth was relieved that Lail seemed to be settling back into life in Rohan, even if she was having some hard moments. She wished she could say the same for herself. "I wouldn't call my leave restful in the slightest, honestly. I had to travel to my estate in the Eastfold to help the steward prepare for winter. And... just before I left, my cousin arrived, and..."

Taeth hesitated for a moment. She didn't want to dampen the evening so soon with tragic news, but she was desperate for someone to confide in. Trewyn had been a great comfort at her estate, but in some ways the woman was... more distant. She was both older, and the mother of her steward, but Lail... Lail was someone she'd known years before. Someone who'd been a friend once, and could perhaps be a friend again.

Taeth took a deep breath, occupying her hands for a few moments with serving up the food--all but the apple crisp, at least--onto their plates, then continued speaking as she sat. "I lost contact with my family during my travels, you see, except for my cousin. And Eldreda... Eldreda informed me, when she arrived, that they'd all been killed. In a fire. At an inn in Gondor, a few years ago. So I also traveled into Anorien, to visit their graves."

She took a moment to compose herself again as she opened the bottle of mead, and filled each of their glasses. She smiled at Lail, though her eyes were still a little sad, as she picked up a fork, debating which food to start with.

"I hope I can come see your house sometime. I'm sure that making a new place into your home has helped. For me... coming back here, to this house, was like walking into the ghost of the past. My... ah, my husband hadn't changed anything at all, before he left, apparently."

@Little Bird Lail

Ent Ancient
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Lailyn, Taethowen’s house
At her friend’s praise, she merely mumbled her thanks. She enjoyed the time spent putting it together knowing someone else would enjoy the food but did not go to such effort for herself. Taking a seat, she quietly watched Taeth serve the food while she listened. The hesitation after admitting her leave had not been relaxing and the way the other woman focused intently on the food hinted that something troubled her.

And how awful it was, not only to lose her family but in such a frightful way, to find out after losing touch with them after so long. It all sounded overwhelming. Lailyn was not sure how Taeth managed to be so calm in spite of everything she said.

“Oh, Taeth, I’m so sorry,” she uttered, setting down her fork and reaching out to touch Taeth’s arm for what little comfort it might provide. She knew there was really nothing you could do or say in this situation. “That’s terrible…” Except for the odd occasion that rekindled it, the pain of losing her own family had faded with time. She had not lost them all at once, but could still remember the crushing grief with each loss that made her wonder how life could go on.

Her brows pinched together. “I had no idea that was why you left...I hope it brought you some peace to see their graves,” she said softly.

“Of course you can come by my house anytime you like,” she offered warmly with an assuring nod. “It does help to make it my own and being in New Town feels different.” She paused and picked up her fork again though the news had sullied her appetite some. “It feels, well, less haunted by ghosts there, like you said...but I still know what you mean by that.” Her voice grew quiet as she trailed off, her mind briefly wandering to those ghosts that remained nonetheless. But Taethowen had lost her husband, her family and she probably needed someone to be there, wholly there, not half lost in their own troubles.

Lailyn let out a soft breath to re-frame her focus before speaking again. “I wondered...when I saw you with Frost,” she admitted tentatively, not wanting to upset her further. “I assumed something must have happened with your husband and I’m sorry to hear that...but you seemed so happy the night of the festival.” How different she looked now than she had that night; the brightness and ease had disappeared from her face. “Did he go with you?” she asked, hoping to know at least Taethowen did not have to go through all this alone.

@Taethowen

Esquire of The Mark
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*There was not a flicker in her eyes as you slowly laid off your weapons until you were fully unarmed, or at least seemed to be. If there was anyone who full well knew how deceptive appearances could be, it had to be Eldrith. And yet.. she'd put herself in an extremely vulnerable position if she had realized you were armed still. Yet considering your words.. how could she have thought otherwise? Yet perhaps, despite the weapons she had felt safe, had counted on something more than Mordor still fighting within you.

As you offered back the toast, she leaned back slightly, allowing the last of the sun that lingered through dusk to caress her body in it's relaxation. There was a breath released and something of a smile as they sat together.* Where we go will depend on a lot of things. Your wishes. Decisions. I made.. a foolish mistake in the Campian but .. I believe.. that might be restored. I have had well near a decade in the mark.. and hopefully those years will count for something.
*Her voice was slow and easy, like it would be if she was leaning over the counter at the pub. A simple rhythm of confidence and comfort. You were right of the ease of that spell, yet it was no magic. It was the familiarity, the idea of being known, that was so seductive.

Nevertheless it was strange to go from such tension to seeming complete relaxation. Yet that was what was slowly spreading over the conversation. Her own words low.. easy, in the tone not of a bard but of friends offering quiet tales around the fire, when the fatigue after a fight settles in, the body is aching and the slow release of tension after battle is making itself known. That release.. that ease.. that fatigue.. would slide in slowly, naturally.

It would be hard to realize exactly when muscles relaxed or eyelids became more droopy. No, it was not magic. It was someone who knew her craft. A craft that went beyond the pub, and beyond the blade.*

There are options of course, for you as well.. choices you can make. Choices you want to make. But not tonight... It has been a long day.. for all of us. Especially if you've been on a chase...
Image
Kill-Stealing Skirt Wench
When others ride out to win renown, let me chosen to tend the house.

Horse Trainer of The Mark
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w/ Sigrid
@Winddancer
Éo couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up as she joined him on the ground, and he didn’t resist the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulder as they walked to the horses. It wasn’t often a girl, erm, woman would tumble out of a tree like he did. And her smile just turned his knees to jelly. It was with great reluctance that he let her go once they got to the horses, swinging up once she had gained the saddle.

“It’s not very far, just over that hill a bit,” he said, pointing and turning his horse. It was a short ride, and he was torn between being happy that they’d soon be there, and being sad that he’d soon have to share her attention.

(I’m just moving this forward, since I’ve been so lax in posting :D)

The farmyard was busy with hens and ducks clucking, and the wail of an angry toddler in the background. Éo shot a rueful glance towards Sigrid, muttering to her as he slid from the saddle. “No one has seen us yet, we could run away.” Despite his words, he came around the horse to lift her down again. “That caterwauling you hear is young Éo, who probably is protesting his nap. Which means that my sister is…”

His brows furrowed as a figure came out of the barn, turned to face them. “In the barn,” he said, finishing his statement and gripping Sigrid’s hand. He tugged her forward, his cheeks slowly turning pink as his sister strode towards them. “That’s Hild,” he said, probably unnecessarily. “She’s nice,” he continued lamely, then grinned nervously.

“Hild,” his voice was cheerful now, “I’m on my way to the Deep but my friend, uhm, Sigrid is a healer and I thought we could stop here for the night and she could see if she can help Folca and I can help with the chores and…” he squeezed Sigrid’s hand, bit his tongue against the nervous babble.

Hild
She heard the approaching horses and sighed. Finishing up the wrap on the leg of the horse only took a moment, but the distraction was not what she needed right now. It was bad enough to leave the children with Folca while she tried to keep the farm running, and now visitors. The sun had her squinting, which made her already hard face seem angry and she sighed again when she saw her younger brother. That boy...she shook her head, walked out to meet him. He was a good boy, a hard worker no doubt, but she didn’t have time for whatever was on his mind today.

She met them in the yard, studying the young woman as her brother yammered at her. A healer, hmm? Her gaze sharpened as she ignored his chatter. “Not just a healer,” she said when he paused. She hadn’t missed the color in his cheeks or the way he held her hand. “About time. Sigrid, is it? I’m Hild. Why don’t you come inside? Éo can see that the horses are stabled and such. I need to see why Folca hasn’t put our son to bed yet. Would you like a cup of tea?”

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Taethowen's House, Auld Town, Edoras

Taeth ducked her head, biting her lip as her eyes started to burn a little, as Lail reached over and touched her arm gently.

"It brought some closure, however slight, I think," Taeth answered. She hated visiting graves, was never sure exactly what one was supposed to do at them, but since she hadn't been there to bury her family at all, she'd felt she needed to go at least once.

As Lail spoke again, Taeth found herself playing with her fork, but not actually eating any of the food. It looked delicious. She wanted to eat it, especially after the amount of travel food she'd had lately. But the conversation had turned to... difficult things a bit sooner than she'd expected, and she didn't want to associate this selection of delicious offerings with... the memories that were beginning to flood through her again.

There was a lull, and then Taeth had to keep herself from flinching as Lail brought up Frost. Inevitably, her eyes were drawn to the shadowed corner where that... creature had made its appearance from and summoned her lover away.

"He didn't," Taeth whispered, her voice faltering. "He had to leave before my cousin arrived, and I... honestly don't know if I'll ever see him again."

The past few weeks had been... so difficult. Finding out about her family right on the heels of his departure. Wrestling with missing him, and missing them, and feeling guilty about missing him more than she missed them. All while trying to take care of her estate, and the worries about the Cavalry issues pressing in the back of her mind.

Mead. That was what she needed more than anything else on the table. She grabbed her cup, and forced herself to sip at it rather than draining the whole cup and refilling it right away.

"I think I need to be drunk for this conversation," she confessed. She'd... barely hinted at some of this even with the weeks at her estate that she spent getting to know Trewyn. It was one thing to confide in the other woman about losing her family, but... an affair with a smuggler from Umbar was another matter entirely. She'd not even told Thali, so much as Thali had figured it out on her own eventually. And... she hadn't heard from--or seen--Thali since she left for her estate. She hadn't answered her letter.

"Please," Taeth looked up at Lail with just a little desperation on her face, "I want to talk about anything other than my family or Frost for a while. Tell me about you. What have you been doing these days?"


@Little Bird Lail

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With Éolath

His laughter made her heart skip and she silently vowed to herself to make sure to make him laugh a lot more. As he wrapped his arm around her, she smiled happily up at him as a warm feeling filled her body. She was loving this closeness, the touches. Again she mused about how she did not realise just how much human touch actually meant to her and how she had longed for it even though she did not know that it was that she was longing for. As they reached the horses she had to bite back a childish whine, sad that this time alone was coming to an end. Though while she would have stayed here forever in a heartbeat had he asked, she knew she needed to get to his brother-in-law and make sure he was alright, though that did not lessen the ache in her heart as he removed his arm from her shoulders.

As promised the ride was short and Sigrid took in the view of the small farm as they crested the hill. A small smile crept to her lips as she took it all in. As they got even closer she could see hens and ducks moving freely about, though the sudden wail almost had her jumping in her seat until she realised it came from a child. Wow that kid had a good set of lungs she mused with a small chuckle. The chuckle bubbled into a soft laugh at Éo's suggestion of running away and she shook her head at him as he helped her off her horse.

She barely had a chance to think how sweet it was that the child had been named after Éo before he nervously took her hand into his and tugged her forward. The amused smile remained on her lips for quite a while as he lead her over to his sister. As he started his nervous babbling her heart went out to him, though she remained close to him and held his hand tighter in hopes it would ease his nerves. Though as his sister stared her down, she gripped his hand in hopes he would ease her nerves.

"Yes, Sigrid." She managed, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded even though her insides were quivering with nervousness. "Uh.. thank you, sure.." she added, even though she was reluctant to leave Éo and be with Hild by herself. But she was a grown woman, she could deal with Hild, right? Swallowing hard, she gave Éo's hand a squeeze and gave him a reassuring smile before she let his hand go and followed after his sister. "I would love a cup if tea." She said as she looked back at Éo one more time before heading into the house. "Do you need any help making it?" She offered, not wanting to just stand by idly.

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w/ Sigrid

Hild
Hild glanced back in time to see the reluctant parting of hands, and she fought to hide a grin. Éo, she thought to herself, was looking as though he’d drag his feet like a child if she let him. She raised an eyebrow, nodding as he took the horses to the barn. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about barn chores tonight. Instead, she led the way into the kitchen and pushed the kettle back over the fire.

“Hmm? Help? Oh, no. You’re a guest,” at least for now, she thought and took a moment to stir the pot of pease on the hearth. She’d add some of the root vegetables to stretch it a bit, and fry up the bit of ham left over from the morning with some eggs. Éo always ate enthusiastically. She sighed as a wail echoed from the back room, then poured tea leaves into the pot.

“Mint, if you have no objection, and some rosehips,” she said absently, then smiled. “I’d apologize for the mess, but it is what it is.” She poured the water over the leaves, set cups on the table. “Please, sit. How long have you and my brother been courting?”

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With Éo

Sigrid's keen blue eyes immediately darted around the kitchen taking it all in. The room looked well used and slightly messy as if the occupants had other things to worry about. Her eyes immediately looked towards the other door, wondering if Éo's brother-in-law was back there. But Hild had been told she was a healer and she was not going to demand to see the man, sure Hild would be taking her to him if it was serious. Well sure enough at least.

As Hild moved over to stir the pot Sigrid remained by the door, her hands clutching each other nervously. The sudden wail startled her and made her jump given the loudness being closer to the source. "Uh.. no, of course not.." she replied to the question of the adding of the rosehips and immediately shook her head and waved off the comment about the mess.

At the offer to sit, Sigrid made her way over to the table and was halfway seated when Hild followed the offer up with a question. Pausing, her cheeks immediately went a darker shade of red and clearing her throat she slowly sat down. "Um.. he asked this morning." Answering, her features softened as a smile lifted her lips, her eyes staring off for a long second as she recalled Éo asking and the first kiss.

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w/ Sigrid
Hild
Her attention focused on pouring the tea, Hild nonetheless did not miss the sudden blush on the girl’s cheeks. Hild held back a smile, put the teacup in front of Sigrid and slid the honey pot closer. “He’s always been an impulsive boy,” she said softly, lifting her own cup and blowing off the steam, “but he’s never brought a girl home before, or even showed real interest in one.”

The smallest hint of a smile touched her lips as she watched the dreamy expression cross Sigrid’s face. “And he didn’t mention you before, though I’ve given him some grief about settling down. He’ll be opening the house, I suppose, or will you go with him to the Deep?” She frowned at that reminder, setting her cup down. She did not like the idea of him going to that fortress, of being so far away from his home and family. And yet, he’d proven he could survive without them. “It would be nice to see that house turned into a home again, but …” she trailed off, sighing at the wail that interrupted once again.

“I guess you haven’t gotten that far, I’m rushing things. I tend to, rush plans that is. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I should go check on my screaming child and see what trouble Freawen has found. My husband is...well, as you know, he’s unwell. His fever is back, but he said he could tend the children while I did the chores. I suspect he’s overdone it again.” Hild stood, glanced around at the messy kitchen and shook her head. “Unless you know a cure for a fever?”

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With Hild

Sigrid blinked and refocused as Hild put the teacup in front of her. A soft smile spread across her lips at Hild's words, her head nodding slowly in agreement. But she could only love that about him as she would not be here right now if he wasn't. Sigrid raised her eyes and looked at Hild feeling an odd sense of relief that Éo had never brought another girl home. He was a grown man, with a wonderfully loving nature and it would not have surprised her if he had courted many over the years. She would have cared for him just as much as she did now if he had, but yet she still felt relieved.

Having taken a spoonful of honey, she was slowly stirring it into her tea as the woman before her spoke, grinning slightly at the comment of not being mentioned. Things had gone a little quick she had to admit, but she knew in her gut that it was the right thing and there was no going back now. But just as the thought of Éo heading off to the Deep upset his sister, so did it Sigrid, her smile slowly fading. Maybe she could go there too?

The wail brought her out of her reverie, turning her head in it's direction before her eyes returned to Hild as she blushed again. No, they had not gotten that far, though she had at least seen his house. But she was a practical person and she was not going to dream of living there with him until he actually asked. As Hild stood, Sigrid set her cup down and again looked in the direction of the back rooms, getting up as soon as the woman mentioned her husbands fever.

"I can try." She said with experienced determination. Instead of following Hild she made for the door. "I will get my bag and come and join you." It only took moments to reach the barn, calling out to alert Éo of her arrival. Stepping over to Dash, she picked up her saddlebag that had been placed next to the stall.

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w/ Sigrid

Hild watched as the woman stood quickly and turned for the door, her brows knit together. Healers were different, she decided, both amused and satisfied at the change from blushing youngling to determined woman. She wondered if Éo knew just what he was getting himself into, and rather hoped he didn’t. The boy deserved to be befuddled by this woman. She only hoped that the boy had grown into a man worthy of her.

With that thought, she took her tea into the cramped back room where Folca was sitting in front of a fire. Their son, young Éo, was struggling against his father’s hold and reached wailing for her as she came in. Folca, his cheeks and eyes bright with fever, only glanced away as she took the boy and set the tea on the table. She kissed both foreheads, then knelt at the foot of the chair as Éo turned his face into her tunic. He’d want to nurse, of course, and she simply sighed. She’d need to really start transitioning him to solid food soon, she wasn’t able to keep up with his growing needs.

Éolath
Éo turned in surprise from grooming Dash as Sigrid came in, his eyes worried even as he smiled at her. “Sigrid! I … is everything alright? Did Hild say anything…she can be brusque …” He stepped forward automatically to take the saddlebag from her, he knew just how heavy it was. “We don’t have to stay here if she’s upset you.”

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With Hild and Éo

She was slightly startled as Éo popped out from behind Dash, the horse swishing it's tail almost as if in amusement. "Oh! I didn't see you there." She chuckled, though pulled the bag away so that he could not take it from her. Swinging it up over her shoulder, she used her free hand to reach out and touch his cheek as she looked up at him with a smile. "Everything is fine with Hild, your sister has been very nice. I am just getting my herbs so I can see to her husband."

Leaning up she gave him a quick kiss followed by a smile. "Now stop fretting, from what I can see your sister needs some help and we are not leaving until we get things back in order for her." To soften the dermination in her voice, she gave him another quick kiss as she reached out and squeezed his hand. She knew he would know what to get tucked into, he was more familiar with this place than she was afterall, so she left out any requests and left him to it as she gave another smile and quickly headed back to the house.

She let herself back into the kitchen and hung her heavy saddle bags over the back of one chair as she refilled the pot with more water and put it back over the fire. She gave the food cooking a stir so it did not burn, noting the meagre portion within and frowned. There was no way this food would be enough. If Hild's husband had a fever, then he needed some kind of meat and if she guessed correctly that Hild was still nursing, then she too needed more sustenance that what this could provide.

But more important things first. As the water boiled, Sigrid pulled it off of the fire and and quickly found a big mug. In it she put some dried willow bark, chamomile and a healthy dollop of honey and then again swung her bags over her shoulder before picking the mug and a spoon up. With that she headed towards the back, knocking on the door to let them know she was coming in. "Hello?"

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w/ Sigrid

Éo smiled back at her, the worry fading from his eyes. He hadn’t quite realized how important it was to him that Sigrid and Hild got along, and the relief that they seemed to nearly made him giddy. Or maybe that was the kisses, so cheerful and casually given. He could only grin and nod at her, not that he’d argue the decision to help his family. And so he watched her carry her bag back inside, lost in a daydream until Dash nudged him firmly in the back with his nose. “Sorry, love,” he muttered to the horse and turned to resume grooming. “That lady is a bit distracting, you know.”

Hild
Hild glanced up from her seat at Folca’s feet at the knock and quiet greeting. Éo’s sleepy blue eyes popped open, and he beat his pudgy fist against her chest as he eyed the stranger. But a stranger was no competition for the comfort of the breast and sleepy milk dreams, and he quieted again quickly in her arms. Hild shifted slightly, her voice soft so as to not startle the child.

“Ah, Sigrid, do come in. I’ll get out of the way,” she shifted again, stood slowly and moved to the edge of the bed. Frëawyn, bless her, was curled up under the heavy quilt, a rag doll and wooden horse clutched against her chest, her face peaceful with dreams. “Folca, this is Sigrid. She’s come from Edoras with my brother, and is a healer. Don’t snarl at her or I won’t make warm bricks for the bed tonight.” Though she smiled at the words, her eyes were shadowed with worry.

Folca, for his part, only turned fever bright eyes on the young woman in the doorway. His lip curled slightly at the mug in her hand but his pride was too spent to tell her he’d be fine. Instead, he tugged the blanket tighter around his shoulders, licked his cracked lips and cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse, but audible. “I’d stand up to welcome you properly, but quite frankly, I’d probably fall over and embarrass myself. Please, be welcome in my home.”

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With Éo, Hild and Folca

Her keen eyes quickly took in the scene before her, the small family bundled closely together on the bed. She had been right about the nursing and made a mental note to deal with that after, though her eyes quickly moved to Folca, seeing his feverish eyes and pale complexion. Giving him a nod and an encouraging smile, she stepped further into the room. She was here for a reason and her natural shyness was immediately pushed aside for her more professional and experienced demeanor. She softly set her saddlebags down on the floor near the bed so as to not wake the children and set the mug on the small table next to the bed before she took a seat on the edge and raised a hand as if to touch him.

"May I?" She would likely have done it regardless, however it paid to be polite and she did not give him time to say no before she lifted her hand to feel his forhead. She could of course see he had a fever, though she often felt the skin to see just how high it was. There was nothing in her expression that could tell him if she was surprised when she felt his hot skin, though some of the tension in her body eased as he was not in need of a cold bath. A flash of having dunked Éo in one of those brought a soft glint to her eyes for just a moment. She wracked her brain as she tried to figure out how long he had been sick, wondering if Èo had shared that with her and instead chose the easy option and asked,

"Please tell me, how long have you been sick and what are your symptoms?"

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w/ Sigrid
Folca and Hild

At the pointed look from his wife, Folca merely nodded slightly as Sigrid moved closer to touch his forehead. Her hand was startlingly cool against his skin and a small shiver worked its way up his back. The glint in her eyes worried him, he’d seen that look in Hild’s eyes before she dumped cold water on him or pushed him in the pond. He’d tolerated it then, sweaty and hot from working. Now, when his bones already ached, a cold bath would probably kill him.

He watched her warily, glanced at Hild then back to the healer at her question. “How long? I…I’m not sure. Since late winter, I think, at least four moons? I got sick after cleaning out the shed,” he tipped his head, thinking. “Hild probably knows more, the days have run together. I was cleaning out the shed, we were going to increase our flock and I was going to build more nesting boxes. I got bit by something, or scratched or something. They puffed up, like wounds gone bad but they’ve healed now. I had a fever, a bit of a rash, then it would go away.” He sighed, pulled his blanket over his chest.

“The fever broke,” Hild said softly, “but it comes back. He’s losing weight and strength, and the fever just won’t stay away. It gets better, and he is able to eat and help and then…then it just comes back. Each time, he is weaker.”

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Lailyn, Taethowen’s house
“Oh…” she murmured, her voice dripping with disappointment. “I’m sorry.” She wondered why he had left and why Taeth seemed so certain she would not see him again. Clearly, something had happened but it was not for her to pry, knowing every relationship came with intricacies only those involved could know and understand.

For a moment, she tried to reconcile the sight of them that night, the closeness she’d seen, and the knowledge that he was now gone. She’d only shared a few quiet yet meaningful words with Frost, it was enough for her to gain respect for him. Lailyn frowned and gazed down at her plate. It seemed Taeth was not sharing even a fraction of the pain and loss she must be feeling. Her chest squeezed tight, understanding, thinking of all the things she held inside.

"I think I need to be drunk for this conversation.” Lailyn glanced back up to see Taethowen holding her glass.

The corner of Lailyn’s lip curled up slightly. “Yes. I know the feeling...I did say I needed a drink or two myself, didn’t I?” she replied, attempting levity. Lailyn took her glass and lifted it to her lips, sipping more than a little mead.

The request to change the subject pulled at her heart. How well she knew the things she did not want to discuss. And here was one more story of heartache she seemed to be collecting lately while giving little back to those who shared.

“Tell me about you. What have you been doing these days?" Taethowen's question was innocent enough but felt fraught with the possibility of more difficult conversations. She took another sip of mead, letting it warm her before pausing for a moment to consider what, and how much, to say.

“Well...I didn’t intend to come home when I did,” she admitted, “but...certain circumstances led me back.” Feeling her fist clench, she forced herself to relax and clasped her hands in her lap instead, trying to ignore the rough edges of the scar on her palm. “I…” she paused, cleared her throat, “I was involved with someone I met in Lake-town. He wasn’t a good person. And I knew it. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she confessed, her eyes downcast. “It didn’t end well so I left…”

She released a short breath and felt a small piece of tension ebb away before she looked back at her friend. Could Taeth see there was more to the story than she was telling? She couldn’t tell her, knowing Taethowen had been married. What would she think?

“But I’m glad I came home,” she added in a hurry and she was. “I didn’t plan on any of this, buying a house here or starting a business...I sort of just decided during the festival.” Thanks in part to Shadowfox. Lailyn spoke with more confidence now, fueled by the conviction of her words.

“I think I found what I want now. To make this place home again...and I’m trying. I've been working hard. I just have to be patient.” She shrugged and her voice softened. “Some days are easier than others and some days... I still feel like a stranger.” In truth, some days and some moments in particular, she barely recognised herself. With that thought tumbling in her mind, she washed it down with another sip of golden sweetness.

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With Hild and Folca

Her brows knit together with both concern and conentration as she took in the symptoms. It always worried her to hear of people not readily having access to healers. She was not going to chastise them for not paying for a healer to come out as she knew some healers charged extortionate amounts, disgusted by their practises. Her eyes had dropped to his hands as if she could see the bite still, though what it could be was already running through her mind, most of them quickly discarded as they did not match up with what he had been going through and especially not the length of time. Four moons. No wonder they both looked so exhausted.

"I think I know what it could be" she said confidently as she reached out a hand and gave his blanket covered hand a sympathetic soft squeeze. "I think you may have been bitten by a rat and gotten rat-bite fever." Leaning down to her bags she pulled out a small container and set it on the table and began scooping the willowbark and chamomile out of the tea she had prepared, meticulously trying to get it all out so he would not choke on any of it. As she worked on the tea she continued on,

"Unfornately I do not have an immediate cure for it, but if we treat the symptoms and you start eating more meals packed with meat, then I am sure you will recover from this. But this is not a quick one I am afraid, you will have to follow my instructions or it will get worse and you will become too weak to fight it." At that she gave them both a pointed look, her eyes conveying the seriousness of her words.

Done with fishing out the herbs, she handed the drink to him and lifted one eyebrow as she said "All of it." She made sure that he was able to hold the mug before she got up from the bed. "I will just get some water so we can use some washcloths to cool your forehead." Giving them both a reassuring smile she headed back to the kitched and got a bucket of water, immediately returning back to them. Dunking a washcloth from her saddlebag into the cool water, she wrung it out loosely and after giving Folca a look to convey her intention, she placed it on his forehead.

"So, why have you two not been eating a lot of meat? Is it because you do not have it? Or you do not have time to prepare it?"

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Looking for the missing children, south bank of the river Snowbourn:

@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn @Taethowen

Beda didn't climb up onto Nuthatch and she didn't start walking either. Cal' guessed she was a little scared of what lay ahead. And he didn't blame her. His friend had seen her mother and oldest brother this morning and both were dead, what if the other children had also perished in the storm and flood?

Cal' had lost sight of Bambu but he could see Sighard moving down the path. The Rider was tall and on horseback, so he was visible above the reeds and tall grass. At last he also disappeared though.

"Beda," Cal' said kindly to his friend. "You don't have to go on. You know that, don't you? You can wait here if you like, with Nuthatch. I'll come back with news if we find anything."

The lad from Gondor felt bad about leaving his friend. But maybe she needed a bit of time alone to think things trhough, and make a decision. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "We won't be far off, Beda... just down the path if you need us. You look after Nuthatch and if you decide to follow he will be happy to carry you!"

With a final quick glance at his friend, Cal' hurried off along the path. After a while he came to some rapids. Bambu was standing on the rocks looking down onto a wide pool. Sighard was sitting on his horse on the edge of the pool. Behind him was a jumble of ruined trees and flood damage.

Cal' followed the path to the pool and soon stood beside the Rohir and his horse.
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South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

The tall Forgoil, Sighard, signalled to the Wildman from his horse beside the pool. The strips of coloured cloth, blue and yellow, hung suspended just behind the Strawhead, but before Bambu began shouting instructions the other hunter, the friend of Rustman's daughter, Calimir, appeared on the strand.

The Dunlending drew in a deep breath and called out over the clamour of the rapids. "Behind head, Sighard... there in broken tree, Bambu see pieces of clothing. They bright colours - like sun and sky - you no miss them!"

Drawing his eye from the tall Rider, Bambu looked towards Calimir: "Something trapped in flood wreck, Stonehouse-fellow. It white and bloated - something dead, Wildman think. Maybe it ngani? Maybe dead sheep, pig or other creature? I come help you... Stand where you are! Dead thing deep in smashed bush... Bambu try to reach it."

The Wildman hurried across the exposed rocks, leapt onto the bank and made his way down the path to the pool. As he walked he prayed to the Old Ones, prayed that the dead thing was animal not human.

--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen @Wamba_the_Fool
- he hath not forgotten Image the face of his fathers -

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Looking for the missing children, south bank of the river Snowbourn:
@Aodh Hammerhelm @Eléowyn and @Taethowen

The lad from Gondor waved at the Wildman to let him know he'd stand and mark the position. The thought of something dead caught up in the storm damage made Cal's stomach feel a little sick. He stood firmly though and squared his shoulders while he tried to chase out thoughts of what the dead thing looked like. He hoped it really wasn't something dead, that Bambu was mistaken. But if it was that it wasn't a human, dwarf, elf and especially not one (OR MORE!) of Beda's family.

It seemed like a long while to him before Bambu arrived. The moment was made longer by Sighard sitting quietly on his horse, and the buzzing of flies coming from the mangled trees and bush behind Cal'. The buzzing was a maddening sound and he could hear it above the steady roar of the rapids. Hurry up, Bambu! he thought to himself, kicking a stone into the water. Please hurry up!
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Taethowen's House, Auld Town, Edoras
"He wasn't a good person. And I knew it."

Lail's words almost made Taeth flinch again, though it sounded like her friend's relationship had ended far worse than hers with Frost. At first, she hadn't want to think that it had ended. But... he'd not contacted her since. He'd said he wished they'd had more time. He'd said goodbye, even if he hadn't given her a chance to say it herself, and she kind of hated him a little for it at times. Even as much as she missed him.

Taeth slowly sipped at the mead as Lail continued to speak. She picked at the food a little as she pondered the things her friend said, wondering if there was truly anything she could contribute other than a comforting ear.

"I'm glad you came home as well." Taeth's smile was genuine. In the wake of... everything, if she hadn't had a single familiar face left to her, she wasn't sure how she would have survived returning to Edoras after the last few harrowing weeks. Culfinwen had disappeared just after the Summer Festival, and Taeth was sure she had a life of her own, but Thali... Taeth wasn't sure what to make of her sudden silence.

"It's good to have a place that you can call your own, whether it's a permanent place, or just in passing. And I'm glad you've found that you want the Mark to be home again."

Taeth's smile faded away then, and in her time on the road recently, she'd come to some realizations about herself. About some of the choices she'd made since returning to the Mark.

"Like you, I spent quite some time away," Taeth said. "Though it wasn't intentional... at least at first. And when I returned, it was mostly with the intent if finding out what was going on with my husband, because he hadn't responded to my letters in more than a few years. And I had some unfinished business with the Cavalry as well, because I wasn't sure if I'd actually left on good terms or just... disappeared.

"But then I ran into you, and Culfy, and Thali... and I thought maybe, just maybe, it was time to come home. But the longer I'm here, the more of a stranger I feel. The days aren't becoming easier, they're becoming harder. I think I changed more than I realized while I was away. Perhaps too much for the Mark to ever really be home again, and my feet are itching to wander again, and... with Frost's departure, and then learning of my family's deaths... it just doesn't seem like there's anything here for me anymore..."

Taeth sighed again. She was tired of being this weary--emotionally, anyway. She felt numb more often than not, and when she wasn't numb, all she wanted to do was cry.

"I came back to Rohan to settle a few lingering matters, but somehow I found myself trying to wedge myself back into the shape of my old life, but it doesn't fit anymore. So I don't know that I have any words of wisdom to offer you about settling back in. In truth, I envy that you only have some days where you feel like a stranger. All my days are like that right now."

@Lailyn

Horse Trainer of The Mark
Points: 306 
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w/ Sigrid
Folca and Hild

Both pairs of eyes focused intently as Sigrid spoke confidently, and Folca blinked dumbfounded at the gentle squeeze she gave his hand. He continued to watch her in mute surprise as she fished around in the cup, then placed it in his hands. He met her eyes for a moment before obediently lifting the tea to his mouth and took a cautious sip. Hild, meanwhile, watched him like a hawk. He was not known for obeying anyone, especially when it came to medicine. Doubly so when the medicine did not involve a cup of ale or dram of whiskey.

“I feel that damnable bad, love,” he said softly to her as the healer stepped out. “And this doesn’t taste as bad as some healer’s brews.” Folca reached out a wan hand to his wife, and she took it then sat on the arm of his chair. “And … the wounds did look like bites of some sort. There were plenty of rats and mice in the shed last winter, it’s why we didn’t store the grain there, remember? I didn’t think much of it at the time, since they healed up without much trouble.”

Folca drank more of the pale tea, staring down into the cup even as Sigrid returned to their room. He suppressed a shiver as she placed the cloth over his forehead, closing his eyes as his headache slowly started to ebb. Her next question startled him, and he opened his eyes to stare at Hild. Hild, in turn, felt heat creeping into her cheeks and looked away. For a moment, the relationship between her and Éo was very clear in the shape of their faces and blushes.

“I haven’t felt like eating,” Folca said slowly, still watching Hild. “It takes too much energy. Hild--”

She patted his hand, then glanced sheepishly at the younger woman. “I … it’s complicated. I’ve had my hands full with the horses and the children, and butchering takes time. Even just a chicken is extra work that I rarely have time for. And…” she looked away, chewed on her lip. “I didn’t want to worry you, Folca, since I know how weary you’ve been. The swine are still in the woods down near the creek, and we’ve nearly ran out of the smoked meat you and Éo put in this spring. I’m no hunter,” she said, looking at Sigrid again, “and I can’t take the children with me to herd the pigs, it’s much too dangerous. So, I put a bit of ham in the pease when I remember or a bit of fish if I have time in the afternoons. The children love to play in the water, so I can sometimes get a couple of trout before their naps.”

She smiled slightly in the direction of the slumbering children. “I will probably need to transition Éo to more solid foods soon, I fear that I don’t provide enough milk for him anymore. So, long answer short,” her smile was unsure but very similar to her brother’s, “it’s both. I don’t have time to cook and I don’t have any to cook.”

Knight of The Mark
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South bank of the Snowbourn: NPC Beda

Beda stood as if rooted to the ground. Hunger, exhaustion, and grief were taking their toll and she felt paralysed, unable to make any sort of decision. The roaring of the river only added to her confusion, and she barely took note when Calimir said he was going down the path and leaving Huthatch behind for her.

The burden of responsibility at last steeled her for what she must do. Mam was counting on her, she was now head of the family and had to do whatever she must to find her siblings. Nuthatch stood by, lazily chomping on grass and low-hanging leaves. Beda had never ridden on her own, and she was not about to start now, going down what could be a treacherous path to the pool below. She made sure the reins were secured to a branch, placed her lips on the horse's velvety muzzle and gave a kiss of gratitude for carrying her thus far.

The path was not so difficult after all, and Beda was able to easily navigate over the small stones and tree roots and mud slicks. At last she was at the bottom, where she joined the others at pool's edge.

"What is it?" she demanded. "What is it that you see? Do not try to hide it from me. It is better to know than to guess."


@Calimir @Aodh Hammerhelm @Taethowen

Master Torturer
Points: 2 588 
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:22 am
With Hild and Folca

It wasn't until she had asked the question that she realised that it had perhaps been a bit too forward. But despite putting them both on the spot, it had been necessary. It was absolutely vital that they introduce more meat into their meals, the sooner the better. A tiny smile crinkled at the corner of her eyes at Hild's blushing cheeks and rambling answer, seeing the ressemblance to Éo in her. Even the brief thought of him was enough to make her stomach flip and she had to swallow the sudden tightness in her throat. For a brief second she longed to be back in his strong arms, to look up into his eyes and then kiss him.

But now was definitely not the time. Clearing her throat, she nodded slowly as Hild finished. "Well.. we will just have to help you build a storage of meat then. I am sure between me and Éo we can round up some of the pigs and chickens and get them prepped. That should be enough to last you through until Éo can return to help again. I know he needs to be at Helms Deep soon." The mere thought of not being with him cut deeply and for a second she could not speak as her throat seized up. Clearing it once more she managed to continue.

"I will need to get back to work as well, though mine is not as pressing as Éo's. So we will get you sorted before we go." She gave them both a look that almost dared them to try and argue with her. "There is no need to argue with me, I will not budge on this. Healers orders." While her voice sounded stern and resolute, there was a softness in her eyes as she gave them both another look.

Rising from her seat, she gathered her things back into her bags and headed for the door. As she opened it softly so as to not wake the little ones, she turned back towards them. "Get some rest, both of you. I will bring in some food for you in a while. Healers orders." Giving Hild a pointed look to make sure she knew she meant her too, she winked and left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was closed, she let out a ragged breath, waiting to see if Hild was going to defy her orders and come storming out. It was one thing to be told you needed to eat more meat, but something completely different to be told to rest while a stranger had the run of your house.

Thain of The Mark
Points: 1 271 
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Joined: Wed May 20, 2020 9:40 pm
Allacan with Eldrith in a quiet part of Edoras.

The spell settled over her, or so she believed, or perhaps chose to believe; relaxation in the company of an ally, nay, a friend. She smiled and shook her head casually at her companion's words, and she seemed so like her old self for a moment, casually confident and at peace in the late evening sun. "Nay, freond, the truth is never a mistake. And it is not for us to restore ignorance and deceit; far better to let them rest where they will and learn to adapt." she lifted the cup to her lips and forced her mind away from the liquid and averting her eyes to where Eldrith's weapon was still hidden as she took another, intentionally long draught, swallowing it down before she could think on the taste too much. "As for my wishes, well..." her smile faded a touch, and she forced her will once more to focus on the light, the smile, the warmth and ponder not too long on matters of import and intrigue. Something shifted uncomfortably within her, but without anything malicious or threatening to focus upon it could only lie restless and unsettled.

She stretched then and smothered a yawn - the sun setting often had that effect on tired people, nothing abnormal in that - and re-settled herself lying on her side, her head propped against one arm and her body now supine rather than sitting. Again, the creature coiled and squirmed, but she allowed it to drop her gaze over Eldrith in a calculating fashion, recognising no significant advantage to the other woman's position that could not yet be easily over-balanced by the right twisting manoeuvre.
"Wishes are so often irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things. As is hope, and courage. At the end of the day what difference does it make if you die fleeing or die making your last stand; you die all the same."

Her mind followed the assessment of her companion, trying to remain focussed on it and not acknowledging the slowing of her breath, the quietening of her heart, the lowering of her lids. She was forcefully, actively unaware as the muscles in her body eased and telling herself it was a ploy to make the other woman think she was unarmed and weak, to make her show her hand. Both gaze and thought stayed so solidly intent on the simplicity of watching for Eldrith's tell that she was unaware of the moment the cup slipped out of her hand.
"And if you are lucky, your death will be the end, and that will be that" her words were slurred now, and had lost their cunning eloquence. Finally she slumped, limp and unfeeling to the floor as the world swam and sank away.

As her vision finally dimmed to darkness, she allowed herself one tiny, infinitesimal shred of humanity, honestly wishing only to leave Eldrith unburdened of guilt as the shadows rose up to claim her. As she exhaled her last waking breath, she allowed them to form the whispered words
"Thank you".

Mercy was her mistake.

As her eyes finally closed and her head dropped, her body limp and unmoving, breath so shallow as to almost not be breathing; something inhuman, amorphous, malicious. It took a few moments for the corruption to recognise what had happened to its host, and longer still to connect the dots between the desperate request and the offered drink, and the host's reckless acceptance of it.

But finally realisation landed and it recognised not just the agent that had neutralised its host, but also the willingness with which she had succumbed to its wiles; the betrayal of the self once again more vile and bitter than any action given by another.
'I gave you life' it whispered in sibilant tones in the deep recesses of her unconscious mind. 'I reformed you and reforged you into a being more powerful than you could have ever hoped to be'

('I didn't want you' a tiny voice answered, but went unheeded)

It raged within her form, and in much the same manner as it had forced blood through veins and air into lungs all those long years ago, it rent its unnatural black magic on her body again now, forcing muscles into action and form into movement

The eyes snapped open and her body bolted upright, throwing itself at Eldrith with a hissing snarl. Where moments ago flesh had been flush with life, now the greyness of death hung oddly over her complexion. Both iris and whites of the eyes had gone; spheres of jet black emptiness stared out of her skull now, evil as cold fingers grasped for Eldrith's throat with inhuman speed. The breath that was exhaled from its mouth was misting with cold and stank with the stench of death and decay. Like a creature of nightmares it clawed for a moment at Eldrith and then... faltered.

The eyes blinked and were blue for a moment, the breath no longer like frosted ice in the air, and Allacan's expression was simultaneously horror, remorse, fear and... rebellion.
"Run Eldrith!" She gasped as though with great effort. "Please... run... I can't..." and with another blink the colour was gone, the blackness of corruption returned, and with another hiss the beast that had possessed Allacan threw itself once again at the ex-pubmistress...

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
Posts: 1830
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Lailyn, Taethowen’s house
Questions brimmed in the back of her mind about Taethowen’s time away. There seemed to be much hidden in her words, a thing Lailyn was all too familiar with, this skirting around details she’d rather not delve into too deeply. What happened to make her feel this way, even before Taethowen’s recent losses, of which there were many? It was enough to make anyone crumble.

“I’m sorry you feel this way...I wish there was some way I could help.” Lailyn frowned, hoping she hadn’t made Taeth feel worse with her words. Yes, each day had certainly gotten easier but there was so much she breezed over in her effort to remain optimistic. Perhaps she shouldn’t have tried to make everything sound fine.

“I think it would be hard under any circumstances to take up your old life again,” she offered her understanding in a soft voice. “And given...everything that’s happened just recently, I imagine that does not make it any easier.” She attempted an encouraging smile. “That's why I haven't tried. I've just distanced myself from the past as best I can to start over.” Her thoughts flickered to everything mounting up that she hadn't dealt with yet, from her cousin's obvious problems to the dishonor she felt for leaving the Cavalry among other things. She could only ignore these things for so long.

“I don’t know that I can offer you any advice, either. Only this.” She leaned forward and met Taethowen’s gaze with a solemn expression and lowered her voice. “Don’t let yourself feel beholden to your past. I think you should follow wherever your heart leads you. Not back to your old life or to what anyone else expects of you. At least...that is all I’ve tried to do.” Her shoulders relaxed as she sat back again but her brow remained furrowed. She didn’t know if it was the right thing to say but it was all she could give besides a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen.

“Forgive me if this is too forward...you may be a Marshal now,” she tipped her head in respectful acknowledgement, ”but in the end, you have only yourself to answer to. This is your life to choose, Taethowen, no one else’s.” If it was seen as faithless to the Cavalry to tell a Marshal this, so be it, it was her honest opinion and she was no longer bound to them by any oath after all.

@Taethowen

Chieftain of The Mark
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Joined: Fri May 15, 2020 10:53 am
South bank of the Snowbourn, down river of Edoras: NPC ~ Bambu, clansman of Kalumba

Bambu quickened his pace as the girl he thought of as Rustman-daughter made her way down the path to the pool. He was not in time to stay Beda’s anguished shout, but he placed a hand on the lass’s shoulder as her plaintive cry was lost in the din of the rapids.

"Be strong, nkozasana, Bambu go look-see," he said dropping into a hunker that placed his eyes square with the girl's. "Maybe nothing… I go see!"

It was not nothing, he thought, fixing Calimir and Sighard with an anxious look. No, not nothing - something! His quivering nostrils were filled with the smell of death. If the Old Ones were kind, the scent would not lead him to members of the girl's clan.

The Dunlending tucked his loin cloth firmly about his upper legs and waist and crawled into the tangled vegetation. The Forgoils believed Wildmen were born with the skin of forest pigs. That was not true, of course, but the boar-fat smeared on Bambu's body, to stave of sunburn and the night's chill, had hardened. And glad he was of this veneered armour now, for sharp sticks and jagged debris sought his naked skin eagerly.

The smell of putrefaction grew stronger as he edged carefully on into the wall of flood wrack. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he took hold of a pale thin limb. The foot of the dead thing was cloven and horny, not soft and five toed. The Wildman peered into the gloom beyond the decaying lamb. When he was satisfied that no children lay caught within the flotsam, he began the difficult business of exiting rear first.

“Dead sheep!” he said as he emerged onto the strand. “No nganis! What we do now? Entwash not far. Bambu know river from Tub Race. Below pool there wide slow water, and old big house were Forgoils cut trees for timber long ago. There islands after – three islands – then big beach before Snow River go into Entwash. After that no crossing to other bank for many miles!

What we do now..? ”

The Wildman stood considering his companions and the options open to them. In truth he held no hope that the missing children would be found, dead or alive. If the river had taken the nganis they were beyond help… The chance that the small ones had wandered on alone as far as the Entwash was also slim. Still, he owed it to Rustman’s ngani (and the stern, tall Forgoil!) to keep up the search.

“We not look far bank yet,” Bambu said at last. “Wildman think this: him and tall Forgoil go down river, to islands and Entwash. Bambu can swim and search islands, Forgoil can look for signs on track to Entwash.

Nkozasana Beda and Stonehouse fellow go back to were baby found. Cross river and look on far shore. Maybe signs there? Go careful and look… Bambu and Forgoil find you later.”

Turning his attention to Sighard, the Wildman pointed into the tumbled wreckage. “You get cloths out? If, yes… show Rustman-daughter before we go…”


--
@Calimir @Eléowyn @Taethowen

Thain of The Mark
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Image
Sighard
Eastmark Dryhtguma
Image

Traveling along the Snowbourn, away from Edoras


Sighard waited silently, observing the pool, until Calimir came up beside him. Then Bambu began to shout instructions. He spotted the tree the Dunlending pointed out, and carefully guided Háwena through the water to the tree. It was a bit of a stretch to retrieve the bits of cloth--blue and yellow scraps, nearly torn to shreds by their journey through the waters--but he managed.

When he returned to the pool's bank, Bambu had come down and Beda was there as well. Sighard watched as Bambu braved the waters himself, and soon came back shouting, "Dead sheep!"

Sighard listened as Bambu proposed the next steps to take, and while he didn't relish the thought of dealing with the Dunlending on his own, it was clear that the party needed to split up. There was simply too much ground to cover, too many things that might have happened and led the children in different directions.

He could see a hint of what he was beginning to suspect in the Dunlending's eyes--that the children were lost, for good. Whether the river had taken them or not, there were too many perils out here in the plains, especially at night, that could have overtaken them. But now was not the time to bring up such woe in front of Beda.

"You get cloths out?" Bambu's voice intruded on his thoughts. "If yes... show Rustman-daughter before we go..."

Silently, Sighard dismounted Háwena and held out the shredded blue and yellow fabric to Beda. "Do you recognize any of this?" he asked.

@Aodh Hammerhelm @Calimir @Eléowyn

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