The Eallníwe Inn

[Eamila Bolger]

@Rillewen @Eldrith

‘No silverware,’ Getale hissed through her teeth.
Aha. Eamila had missed that, arriving too late at the table to hear the whole conversation. It explained the annoyed face at her proposal to serve soup or porridge. Well, she could handle angry faces. Miscommunication happened every now and then. But another grimace crossed Luthor’s face, showing an emotion all too familiar to her.
For the first time this day, a smile almost appeared on hers. The face that Master Luthor made when she talked about porridge... It reminded her of the past, of her sister Daffodil and how disgusted she could look when mother had made porridge. Given the situation, however, she managed to compose herself just in time and keep her face straight.

Their guest was clearly in pain. The left arm hanging still, the right hand that he seemed to be able to use only with difficulty... Would he have been injured on the way? Or was he perhaps coming down with something contagious? She couldn't remember he had looked so bad yesterday. He had just eaten, used cutlery and only complained about his feet. Not about his arms, at least not that she could remember. No, it was certainly good that a healer came to have a look at this.

He wanted tea, and soup from a mug. Eamila nodded and straightened her apron. ‘I will take care of that right away. And as soon as the bread is ready, I will bring you some too.’
She was already turning around, hoping that he would not continue about the other thing. But that hope was in vain. Getale had answered his question about the soft hustled around them somewhat evasively and then walked away. But he wasn’t going to settle for her explanation and asked further.
Alarmed, Eamila looked up. His face was full of ernst and he looked expectantly at her. Did he think she had given that answer instead of Getale?
Ea closed her eyes for a moment, weighing last night's conversations and this morning's information.
‘We don't know the ins and outs of it yet,’ she responded. ‘They are mainly rumours. But our Field Marshal Master Guthbrand may be able to tell you more. You wanted to speak to him anyway, didn't you? About your search for your sister-in-law and the escaped criminal who may have fled to Rohan? I could ask him if he would like to join you at your table.’

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë

The loremaster had been away for hours. For a few hours he settled in the chair with the blanket over his legs, even it was not necessary. His kind physically well equipped against a bit of cold. The deep freeze was something else, but in these windswept lands it was never as cold, as the frozen wastelands in the north could be. He had enjoyed the show of the dusk of the night before. For the dawn and all it’s colours, he had to move to the other side of the house, in the eastern direction. He had seen the days that the sun moved from the other direction. But that change was also long behind him. The people here wouldn’t even know or be aware of it. He knew of the Valar and how they had contact with him. What further in the town happened escaped his attention in full. After that Quennar closed satisfied in his eyes for a few hours. Even in daylight it was easy to take some rest.

Off all the little things that happened in inns or taverns his kind was almost never involved in. The Eldar were more used to weave tapestries in the streams of time, create words in poetry where the beauty was caught as fly in a web, impossible to escape. That a death-song had been presented this night, he could sense something was amiss. A fleeting shadow that lingered, the minds that could not let go of the past. Promises of glory that were rotten flesh left in the ashes to decay further. Some touches had rooted that deep, that the only the only method of erasing it in full, was the total destruction of the land, including the grounds to the earth of the earth. Just as Almaren had been destroyed. The Eldar hadn’t been woken at that time. It had been lands for the Ainur to dwell. But even among them had rattled strong disagreements. Blessed as the name was Almaren in Quenya, so blessed it had never been. Sometimes Quennar had a hint of sarcasm in his mind.

Perhaps today was a good day to visit Fangorn and take Eamila with him? It felt like a good idea, to see the wonder left in this world. If they would there be forever, the future didn’t reveal. What was known the Second Children would find their dominion in this world, but did it leave all of the other kinds? He had to keep recording, write an entry and bundle it together back in Aegliraind. A new chapter to the Rohirrim, past and future. Whatever happened in towns like these, it was the best to let their own official settle their problems themselves. They wouldn’t want elven interference. A certain section of the Edain did learns lots from his kind, but there were more human peoples who never had any interaction with any elf at all, and they had come out fine as well. So the credit the Noldor ever had claimed, was not that fabulous. In their footstep had walked the darkness almost literally everywhere. Beleriand was the sad story of that, and it had been the shortest era of them all.

[Rillewen]

Luthor

Luthor nodded his acknowledgement when she said she'd bring the bread and soup. Hopefully, his arm wouldn't hurt too much to let him lift a mug of liquid. Hopefully, they would find a healer for him soon, because he was getting kind of worried about his arms. And the fever was.. not fun.

As for the killing, it was apparent that the hobbit did not want to talk about it. Luthor, however, had some questions. Like anyone would have, who was missing a relative who may have been with a dangerous criminal, regardless of the reason. It was only natural that he would be concerned and inquisitive. But, it seemed that the one to talk to was the big, bearded man, who turned out to be the field marshal that he needed to talk to anyway. Not the hobbit, who said she knew nothing about it. Mainly rumors, she said. He frowned slightly at this. Rumors? Was it a rumor that someone was killed, or not?

"Yes," Luthor answered with a slow nod. "I do need to speak to him. I had asked her who he was, but she must not have heard me." He nodded toward where Getale had gone away already. Sitting back, he sighed as he glanced toward the bearded fellow, then back at Eamily when she suggested having the feldmarshal join his table. "Would you?" He asked. "I would very much like to talk to him about my search. Especially now, after the.. unfortunate news." He frowned. "I have a feeling the two things may be related." He added more quietly.

[Eamila Bolger]

@Rillewen @Eldrith

'I do not wish to bring unnecessary sorrow upon you', Eamila assured him. 'There are no facts known to me, only the rumors of the street. And yes, the victim seems to have been a woman, this I have heard. But I do not yet know her age, nor if she was from here or not. I am not from here, just like you, and in cases like this I am not the first person people would come to with their stories. But I can understand that under the circumstances, it is important for you to know. Let me speak to Master Guthbrand. I will ask him to come to you.'

She walked over to the Field Marshals table and coughed to get his attention. Quietly she informed him of their guest and his questions.
'We've been meaning to send for you anyway, this morning, Eldrith and I', she said. 'But now that this terrible thing has happened, our guest questions are even more urgent. It is a young woman he is searching for, and he was worried she might have been in the company of a criminal who was on the loose in Gondor. Master Luthor can tell you all about her, I guess. She would have been smaller than most women, and have lots of freckles on her face. Could you please come over to the other table, and talk to our guest. He is worried, as I can understand. And he is ill, so don't feel offended if he doesn't stand up to greet you. His arms are weak and we are sending for a healer since he looks like he is having a fever too.'

[Eldrith]

Eldrith had slipped in through the kitchens, having caught wind of what was happening, and preferring the back door for today, so she could see what was happening. After last night... well.. she was a cautious woman. She tasted Cnith's soup, then peeking into the main room itself saw Guthbrand at the bar. Well, that was one conversation she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid. Still.. she saw Eamila approach him and smiled. Bless her friend. At least the conversation could be a little bit delayed.

Guthbrand

The first bit of information came from a rather unexpected source. Of course he knew Eamila, that is..from seeing and speaking and exchanging pleasantries. She hadn't entered the cavalry but she was well known and had a good reputation. As the hobbit spoke of a visitor, looking for a woman in the company of a criminal, his expression turned distinctly neutral, his eyes going towards Master Luthor. A lead. The first good lead to begin with.
"Thank you, lass. I will speak with him right away" He offered gently to Eamila, before nodding to Getale and heading towards Luthor's table. "I hear you are looking for someone? Who may be in the company of a criminal?"


Getale herself cast a look at the kitchen as if she KNEW Eldrith was hiding there, and a moment later, she too disappeared behind the half curtain that could be used to separate kitchen from public room. "He's in need of a healer. You better send for someone. The man can hardly eat his breakfast. Want to go and see if my sister is available? I hear the new young healer is heading out of town this morning."

[Rillewen]

Luthor

Luthor nodded in acceptance of Eamila's explanation, but the worried look remained on his face. He watched as she went to the bearded fellow and spoke briefly. Quietly, his blue-green eyes assessed the man, watching him curiously from where Luthor sat. In his mind, he reviewed all that he had told the folks at the inn, last night. And he thought about what all he ought to tell him, now.

And almost before he knew it, the man was approaching him. That was fast. Luthor was almost surprised how swiftly he came over, but then he supposed the guy was anxious to hear any sort of lead regarding the murder case, so he couldn't blame him there.

"That's right," He answered, still wearing a concerned look about his face. "I am Luthor. I understand you're the one doing the investigating? That a woman was.. killed?" He hesitated before slowly holding out his right hand. "I hope you'll forgive me for having a poor handshake," He said with an apologetic smile. "I have an injury on my arm, which was given to me by the very person whom I believe is responsible for your victim." He spoke quietly, explaining with a little nod toward his right arm, to explain why he could not offer a proper grip at the moment. But enough about that. He moved on to the real issue, while motioning toward the chair opposite him. "Please, join me?" He invited politely. "I was intending to speak with you today, in fact, regarding my own search. But now... well, in light of what I've just learned, I wish I had come to speak to you sooner." He sighed regretfully.

"I have traveled all the way from Gondor, looking for my wife's little sister. I'm extremely concerned about her, you see. She either ran away, or.. was lured away, I'm not certain which." He explained, frowning. "She disappeared around the same time as a very dangerous criminal managed to escape from the guards of Minas Tirith. She could be a hostage, or..." He trailed off, the possibility that she might have been the victim, was left hanging there, unspoken, but clearly a concern.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

"I am Guthbrand, Feldmarshal of the mark, placed here in Meduseld." That last was added for your benefit, considering everyone at the inn, aside from you and the older man were familiar enough with him. He looked like he could crush your hand, instead as you held it out slowly, he simply enfolded your fingers with his and gave the slightest of squeezes, like a man whose horse didn't need hard yanks on the reigns but merely the slightest impression to give it direction.

"Eldrith informed me this morning you'd wish to speak to me. I would have been here earlier but as you said, we had ill news this morning, for all of us." He listened to your words with the calm of a man for whom blood and the unfairness of the world was nothing new. When you trailed off though he shook his head. "On that at least I can reassure you. The victim was known to us. A young woman named Maerith. She was found under a sign of the eye of Sauron. A sign not seen here since the war. Her family found out before I even did..." He had quieted his voice again. He could thunder on the battlefield, or call out across a drill, but his voice here was remarkably calm and quiet, not wishing to enhance the already different atmosphere that was there.
"Tell me of the criminal?"
It was a request of course, not an order, and yet the way it was phrased meant that the invitation at the very least held some weight. He would expect an answer or a reason. But he sat down at your table, making this at least a more companionable conversation than it could have been.



In the mean time, Eldrith listened and nodded to Getale, then hesitated. "Can you go get your sister? I'll man the bar and make sure Cnith doesn't get overwhelmed. I want to speak to Ea." She entered quietly from behind that curtain into the taproom and moved to Eamila. Her eyes though were half on Guthbrand and Luthor. And there were many more that were very clearly pretending NOT to try and catch word of what was discussed.
"The Loremaster is back." The pubmistress murmured as she reached for a cloth, and moved to stand next to Eamila. "Today would be a good day to go for a journey, wouldn't it?" She said, nodding to the elderly man, who seemed to know so much and sang in words she could not understand but that made her soul ache" I've sent for Getale's sister. It's a rather rotten time for the new healer to be out of town."
And if you were going for a ride, you would be FAR away from whatever violence might be happening here again, at least for a day or so...

@Rillewen @Eamila Bolger @Aikári Salmarinian

[Rillewen]

Luthor

"Pleased to meet you, Feldmarshal Guthbrand," He responded, nodding in acknowledgement of the guy's position. "Alas, that it was not under better circumstances," He added in a regretful tone, then shook his head at the apology. "No, I completely understand. In fact, I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, for I know how busy you must be. Anyway, it would not have done much good for you to come earlier, anyway, for I've not been feeling well all night, and have only just come out of my room to ask for some food and a healer." He explained.

He then sat back and listened with a solemn expression while the man spoke to him about the murder. Hearing the name of the victim was surprising. "Maerith..?" He murmured in mild surprise, frowning slightly upon hearing the name. His expression grew even more grave at the information about the Eye. But not surprised. Not at that part. His gaze fixed on the table for a moment while Guthbrand was finishing, and for a moment after he had asked him to tell about the criminal.

He cleared his throat, then looked up again. "I came here looking for my sister-in-law." He gave a faint, wry smile. "Mary." He added, hoping the other guy would catch the similarity between 'Mary' and 'Maerith'. Which would explain his reaction to hearing the name. "She disappeared around the same time that a dangerous woman escaped from the jail in Minas Tirith." He explained, careful to keep his voice as low as Guthbrand's. "A slave trafficker, who hails from Umbar." He added with gravity.

"I'm not a great tracker, but I've managed to follow Mary's trail all this way. But, along the way, I also encountered a few signs that this trafficker has passed the same way." He drew a slow breath and sighed. "I should have talked to you last night, but I thought it could wait until the morning." He shook his head in regret. "If only I had, perhaps.." He sighed but did not finish the sentence. "I suppose it's no use dwelling on what could have been." He added softly.

"The escaped prisoner," He went on. "I've no doubt that she was the one responsible for this tragedy." He declared. "She's slain others in the exact same manner. They still worship Him, you know. In Umbar." He informed the man. "They do not believe Sauron is truly vanquished, and they still raid our coasts and take our people away as slaves. This woman was captured in the act of trying to kidnap a young woman... and instead of rotting in a cell, she was permitted to slip away from the guards.. somehow." He frowned as if this bothered him greatly, eyes narrowing as if he had some suspicion about it. "And now.. multiple people have died at her hands. If the guards in Minas Tirith had only done their jobs better.." He shook his head and sighed. "I apologize, I should not have said that. I'm only worried about my wife's sister. And now, I am worried about how many other victims this woman will claim before anyone can catch her." He hesitated, thinking back about how he had mentioned his injury had been given to him by this criminal.

"I was attacked by her, shortly after I set out looking for Mary." He informed Guthbrand, letting his gaze drop to his right arm. "She came upon me while I was camping one night. Asked if she could join me for some food, sit by the fire. She seemed harmless enough, and I felt bad for her. It was a cold night, and I had plenty to spare. I didn't know then who she was. It wasn't until she suddenly attacked me with a blade that I realized she was a threat. Fortunately, I was able to fight her off, and she fled into the night. But not before I sustained a deep gash on my arm," He added. "I haven't seen her since, but I've been a lot more wary since that night." He frowned. "I don't know why she would be coming here, but I really need to find Mary and make sure that she is safe. That was why I was planning to come and see you, to ask for aid in my quest. But now.. it seems you have bigger problems to worry about."

[Eamila Bolger]

Suddenly Eldrith was there. Ea hasn't seen her come in, but she was there, and she was taking care of things. She had a brief talk with Getale about bringing in her sister Hilda and peeked at the First Marshal who was now speaking to Master Luthor.
From her place the elderly hobbit tried to listen to their guest's story. She almost dropped the mug she was holding when she heard him speak of... a woman? The criminal walking around was a woman? And her crime was kidnapping another young woman?

'Did you hear that?' she whispered to Eldrith. 'So this criminal is a female, who escaped from the Minas Tirith guards. Quite a woman she must be. I just don't understand... if this Gondorian met her on his journey searching for his wife's sister... how could he have known of the events back home? How could he know there was a female criminal on the loose and that she was this person? And if she had indeed kidnapped Mary, where was Mary at the moment this lady met him at the camp fire?'
She shook her head as if she hoped that would make her understand better.
'Oh well. I should trust our fine First Marshal to find out about that.'

Turning around in order to go back to her kitchen tasks, she was stopped by Eldrith who had a proposal for her.
'To Fangorn? Today? Won't I be needed here?' Eamila looked a bit worried. 'I mean: I would love to set out there with Loremaster Quennar, but... with all that's happening, it feels almost wrong to leave you and all the trouble behind. It's in times like this that we need to stand firm and help each other out, isn't it? I should at least start preparing that tea for Master Luthor, and make sure he gets the soup. And I was helping out Cnith with the bread. Soon it will be noon and I guess more people will be joining us in the hope to learn more about... about...' Ea couldn't say the words. She sighed. All of a sudden it didn't sound so bad to just leave all this sadness and anxiety behind...

@Eldrith @Rillewen

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë

He was not concerned with how the world was shaping itself for the future, or how big the role of mankind was becoming. He walked along the little joys that happened in life, like the butterflies that danced in the early morning light, over the flowers here and there spread along the paths and in the fields. With a big of regret he had seen the fading of the stars when the sun came up. It was not that they really faded, but the light from the sun overpowered their lights. He had to wait for nightfall before their shining returned to watch. But his energy levels had replenished in the night. Yet it was that a mist was coming up, over the fields and in the town, caused by the warm sun that dampened the water from the grass up into the cold air from the night. There was no wind right now, so the mist was good gamechanger to disappear. Fog couldn’t stop him. He had excellent since of what waited from the invisible world. To discover Fangorn in the fog was a thrilling effect, trunks all around and the creatures that spoke unhindered in the tops of the trees. The damp clang to every blade of grass and leaf in the tree and replenished them for the day to come.

He carried Fanyarë on him, a very special sword he had made long ago. It had a shining black blade and beautiful scabbard with it, both interlined with the images of intertwining twigs and leaves of various plants. But it was deep hidden under the dark cloak, just as couple of daggers. He had bow and arrows with him also, but those were not hidden. A great weapon for discouragement. He stood up from the deck chair he had been sitting for a while. Around the back, avoiding any human traffic at the front, he came into the scullery where water could be found. He refilled a few bottles with fresh water and stuck them in his saddlebags. He went into the pantry to see what it held. What humans had with meat, he couldn’t phantom ever to eat that. Instead he took a few apples, what he hadn’t eaten in weeks. From here, all the way through the scullery and annex kitchen, he could hear in flards of conversations in the main room of the inn: a victim, a murderer, troubles in Gondor… worshippers of Sauron… more or less petty problems in his eyes.

Defeat never meant the supporters were gone in full. Lots of people had felt the Dark Lords brought essence to their lives, a solidifying of what power was, might to rule over a tumultuous population. As long economy was stable it viable, improving the basic standard people needed to survive. Lots of these kingdoms had so supported Sauron with ever his forces reaching them. It had been a method for self preservation, but also the fact contributed Gondor had been very weak, boxed and battered by the crushing enemy a stone throw over the river Anduin. What could these kingdoms expect from Gondor at all? Little to nothing. Any form of trade had long seized in the southern lands with Harad. Gondor was ruled by stewards, not kings. For a good millennium. Just as silent as he had entered, his shadow left again and it was just if nobody had been there moments before, only that some fruit had disappeared. On his way he had seen nobody in this part of the inn. With Næxærra it was a good day’s ride to the borders of Lothlorien.

Overheard talk decided often turned possible moments into nothingness. The trouble with the mortal minds was the constant hinder to feel important somewhere, for whatever reason. The Gondorians and the Rohirrim had their own rights to independence, how they carved their own futures. He could not interfere. Quennar documented only what he heard. In these lands the death-song little changed, only that the words grew stronger. It was for the reason the third theme had only been orchestrated by Eru himself and there hadn’t been involvement of any Ainur. His first and second children hadn’t been in the early stages very numeral. Since Cuivienen and Hildorien each kindred had performed their stories on the stage that was called Middle Earth. His kind was able to disappear when they wished, one moment an elda could appear, the other instantly vanished if not having been there at all. Quennar made use of that rising morning mist over the lands of Rohan. With his own magic it thickened out well. Næxærra was an excellent companion, together they were a team to be reckoned with in this temporary morning fog.

********************************************************


Utchuk the wanderer

He operated for many years now as a good bulky man, using perfect prosthetics to indentify him straight to human and not his true kind. What worked were also his natural grey eyes, what was no uncommon in the lands north of the barrier mountains, protecting these lands from the frozen cold. uruk and snowmen lived there together as the cold was so severe, their combined strength and weaknesses made survival possible. He wore heavy clothes, was fully covered and brown fur over his shoulders from a mountain bear. He came from the south and travelled along the river north. A good stop here was okay, a drink, a good juice steak and on the road again. He had developed a good taste for goldenbrown steak. The leg of a pork would do, fill him up to tomorrow. In his homelands lived also a rare wizard, who bobbed along the island west in a boat. He curved the rising fog, what made it all so wet. But as quick the fog had come up, the sun pierced through very quickly. He could bear it, but rather under a cap over his head. He shook himself out as a dog, before entering the inn. He had a good sniff in the air, people were quite riled up, not a good sign.

“Goodmorning to you all!” he said quite loudly and sought a place by the fire. “A good tin of beer and large goldenbrown steak will do for me,” he added coming by a group of people. He had no idea who all was visitor or servant, but the requested order would fall on the right set of ears. He stretched his legs before the fire and filled up the chair complete. A simple Gondorian sword hung by his side, few knives on his back. And the spear stood next of his chair. It was his walking companion on the road. He had seen the south of Gondor and just came from the west through the gap of Rohan. On his travels he left an invisible trail of robbers and cutthroats behind. Their trinkets were good money on the road and paid for good meals and drinks in taverns and inns. He had a full purse. He looked at the fire and enjoyed the sight of it.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

The similarity was.. striking, yet versions of the name were common. There was a steady compassion and resolve both in his eyes as he looked at you. "She was young still. Had her whole life ahead of her. Her family mourns the loss deeply." Death was almost often felt as a tragedy, but this death, this senseless, brutal, needless death to one that never harmed any, seemed so even more deeply. "You speak of a woman, a criminal who may be traveling with your sister in thrall, or who may be following her path as well. What does she look like? The criminal? I will have the description circulated to each Eored and beyond."
It was logical that he would focus on that. And if he could find the criminal, he might also find your sister... though there was a discussion from this morning in his mind, and for a moment he glanced towards Eldrith and Eamila, where they stood talking. Knowing what the slave trader looked like would be a good first step.


Eldrith understood Eamila's hesitation. They were there for one another. They supported one another. But the chance to travel like that, in such company did not come often and she had seen the longing in his eyes. "There is trouble, yes. It doesn't mean other beauty does not remain undimmed. Ask him? If he meant the offer. I can find someone to travel with you if you are.. uneasy. Eamila... you do not HAVE to go. I am not trying to keep you out. You are brave and strong and the best friend I can wish for. But I wish for you to have every chance at every joy that can be there. And I doubt with the Feldmarshal on alert.. anyone would dare attempt anything here at the inn." Or at Aern Freablod, she wanted to say, but then... she didn't add it in words, not wanting to put that picture in your mind. There was a hand on Eamila's shoulder for a moment, a soft squeeze, and then a glance at the Lore master, encouraging.


And then a new customer arrived, and the soft smile she had given her friend, became a warmer and more open one as a new customer arrived, large, covered in fur, and with the bearing of one who made his way in the wilds. It was perhaps a good thing, Luthor had just described the escaped criminal as a woman.
"Welcome to the inn" She offered Utchuk. "I hope your travels have been safe and well. Can I get you something warm and filling?"

@Eamila Bolger @Rillewen @Aikári Salmarinian

[Merewyn]

Merewyn

First Time in Edoras: Pt. I

It had been many years since Merewyn had last set foot in her homeland. After the passing of her family she had wandered into the wilderness, leaving the burnt village of Smoltwaeter in the West-march behind, and for many years she lived a nomadic life. Temporary camps in the shade of tall trees, winters spent in whatever dry cave or covered cliffside she could find, summer days spent riding and hunting. Her teenage years passed and she wound her way North and West, leaving behind the foothills of Dunland and the wide grasslands of the Enedwaith and Minhiriath. Onward her path led until she chanced upon the River Brandywine, and following turning her back to it's rolling water she turned North-east, finding herself after many years alone in the land of Bree. There she settled, for a time, in the eaves of the Chetwood, finding what work she could. When the season was right she would hunt and sell her game to butchers and furriers. At other times she would look for those who needed laborers, repairing fences and thatching roofs. Occasionally she could find employ as a messenger, taking letters from folk of the Bree-land to the Shire and bringing back what letters the Shirefolk might have as well. And sometimes it would chance that her bow was needed, to drive back encroaching wolves or intimidate highway robbers.

The years passed by and Merewyn found a peace of sorts, one she had not looked to find. Contentment was not what she sought when first she ventured into these lands, simply an end to the long wandering of her youth. And life in the Bree-land was kind to her, much kinder than life had been before. She had to work hard and keep busy, as there was always something needing to be done for a neighbor or something in her little dilapidated cottage that needed repaired, so that there was little time to reminiscence about the traumas of the past. But as time went on and life began to settle into a comfortable and steady pace, she found herself with something she had had little of before...time, alone. Strange though it was, as she had been alone for so many years, but those early ones were spent on survival. There was little time to do much else other than look for shelter, hunt for food, and sleep lightly lest she be caught by someone with ill intent. And then when she had moved to the Bree-land, her time was spent much the same. But now, after so long here, she had time to venture into Bree more for drink and tales and merriment.

One night she was sitting in the Prancing Pony, the chief establishment of all of Bree, surrounded by the men and women and Halflings she had come to know, and found herself thinking back to her childhood. She recalled watching her grandfather tell the stories of the great heroes and Kings of Rohan. She remembered watching her mother and aunts dance together by the fires. She thought back to her father, returning from a trip to deliver horses to some other town, and how he would describe in great detail the villages and beautiful places of her homeland. The Bree-land was lovely, in its own way, and its people had come to accept her as one of their own. But for the first time in many, many years, Merewyn longed for her own folk. To be surrounded by kith and kin, to hear songs sung in her native tongue, to gallop on her horse across the fields and fen of Rohan. Long she sat in thought, tucked away in a corner of the inn's common room, before she made up her mind. At first she thought to go, then and there, and make her way South immediately. But a voice in her head stopped her. For many years this had been her home and she counted many of the citizens her friends. It would not do to disappear into the night and say nothing.

So, she returned home and began the process of leaving. It was not as quick as she hoped, as many of her friends tried to get her to stay. Only by promising to return someday could she assuage the most persistent of them into allowing her their leave to go. Weeks passed as she sold what possessions she had attained over the years but did not want to take with her. She spent an entire week out hunting, to bring back as much meat and fur as she could to sell to ensure she had some coin in her pockets when she left. And she sold her little cottage, though admittedly for less than it was worth, to the daughter and son-in-law of one of her neighbors, Thalia. They were newlywed and expecting a child within the next few months, but there was not enough room for them all in Thalia's home. It saddened Merewyn to turn the keys over to them, but knowing that the little home would be cared for and in the hands of her friend's child helped ease her mind.

A little more than two months had passed since she had made up her mind to go, and the day was fast approaching for her departure. She had double and triple checked that she had packed everything she needed into her rucksack, the saddlebags of her horse, and the little satchels she wore at her belt. She had made sure to have her old sword sharpened, as she had not had use of it in many years, and the shield she owned repaired too. Her quiver was full of freshly fletched arrows and her bow polished and unstrung, tucked into her saddle resting beneath a blanket. And in a pouch on her hip, all the coins she had managed to save over the years, added to by the sale of her home and possessions. She had one last night of drink and food and tales at the Prancing Pony, sleeping her last night for a long time in a comfortable straw bed, and in the early morn departed from Bree Southwards along the Greenway.

The journey South was far easier than the journey North, all those years ago. In that time, there was no King in the land of Gondor nor in the former kingdom of Arnor. But a great victory had been won while she lived in Bree. A Halfling, it was said, had helped destroy the Great Enemy, and all kingdoms of Elves, Dwarves, and Men had fought His armies and defeated them. In Minas Tirith, far, far away, King Theoden and the forces of Rohan had aided Gondor in ending the siege of Gondor's capital city, though it cost him his life. And his nephew, the new King Éomer, had marched with what remained of their forces to assault the very gates of the Enemy's lands. Or, so the stories were told. She did not doubt their truth, but she was sure many details were lost as the story traveled North. Regardless, the roads were safer than when she first traveled upon them. Indeed, many were now restored, and on her way South she encountered more than one band of travelers.

Little need be said of her travels to Rohan, as they were largely uneventfuL. She traveled at a leisurely pace, stopping and resting whenever the mood caught her or her horse needed it. She occasionally encountered others, some who greeted her and offered her a chance of respite and to sit with them. She traded stories and meat for news and ale and to pass an evening in the security of numbers. And with time she found her way back to the borders of her homeland. She had intended at first to return to the village of her birth, to see if any of it remained. Or perhaps to try and find relatives who may still have lived in other towns or villages nearby. But after thinking it over for some time, she decided against it. She would have time to do so later, but for now she purposed to continue Eastward to Edoras, the capital of Rohan. She had wasted her youth living wildly, alone, bitter and angry at the fortunes that fate had handed her. And much of her twenties she had spent in a land not her own, with no purpose other than to live to the next day and see the sun rising once more. It was time to do something...more. Something...different, at the very least.

The journey to Edoras did not take as long as her journey to the borders of Rohan from Bree, though now she did stop and rest in villages when she had the chance to instead of sleeping under the stars. And many months after first setting out, in the early hours of the morning, she rode upon a hill and saw the city far off. Rising on an outcropping hill of the White Mountains was the city of the King of Rohan. And there atop it, gleaming in the first rays of the sun was the Hall she had heard so many tales of in her youth...Meduseld, the Golden Hall. A smile crossed her lips and her eyes widened at the site, as she urged her horse onward to reach the city as soon as they could. The gate was open as she approached, though guarded by strong men with tall spears. When asked who she was and what brought her there, she said at first, in the common tongue, "I am Merewyn. I come from the North, from the Bree-land, to see the lands of Rohan and seek my fortunes." A moment passed and she paused, before shaking her head and saying, this time in Rohirric, Verily, Merewyn is my name. But I am not of the Bree-land, though I have lived there for many years. I was once a daughter of the West-march, until my family was slain. This was many years ago, during the reign of King Theoden. I left our homeland and found my way North, but now return, a daughter of this land. I am on a journey of my own, to seek family, to serve my country, and to rekindle the bonds I have lost."

The guards allowed her passage, with one even pointing her in the direction of a few places she could go to seek news, drink, or to serve. Though all interested her, after so long on the road, she needed a proper rest and a full mug of ale, mead, wine, or anything of the sort. She steered her horse in the direction of the Eallníwe Inn, as it was called, and upon arriving hitched her horse to a nearby post. She patted him on the head, giving his nose a kiss, and said, "I'll return soon. I'm going to see about getting you stabled somewhere, with fresh hay or grains to eat, and a roof over your head. Would you like that, silly old bear?" He reared his head and neighed, which she took as an affirmation. She patted him once more before turning away to enter the inn. It was mid-day by this point, and the inn seemed lively enough. There were many there, drinking or eating or engaged in conversation. She dusted the dirt off from her tunic and cloak as she entered, looking for an innkeeper or attendant. After a moment she espied a young man, a little younger than her she guessed, making his way around the Inn delivering drink and food. She found a place to sit, away from the door but not all the way in the back of the Inn, and waved to the man as he passed by her.

When you have a moment, I would like to talk to you or someone who is employed here about food and bedding, for myself and my horse. Take your time though, I am in no rush!" She said in Rohirric, though the words came slower to her now than the common tongue. It would take some time for her to feel truly comfortable again speaking her mother language, as it had been many years since she had spoken it aloud.

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Luthor

He took a glance toward the kitchen, wondering how much longer he'd have to wait on the soup. About that time, someone new came in, and Luthor took a moment to look him over, taking note of the knives and sword before he turned his attention back to Guthbrand. "Yes, it truly is tragic." He responded with a small nod of understanding. "The family must be devastated. I can certainly imagine what they must be going through."

Another person entered then, a woman this time. Luthor was wondering if that might be the healer they were supposed to be sending for. But he couldn't tell what she was saying, and she took a seat at one of the tables. Not likely a healer looking for a patient, then. He leaned back in his seat, feeling unpleasantly shaky. His arms were hurting more than ever, especially the left one, but even the right one wasn't feeling well, and he was growing a little impatient for the healer to arrive. But he made an effort to focus on what the feldmarshal was asking him. More information about the criminal, right. "She is an Umbar woman who was arrested a while back for slave trafficking," He explained. "I was shocked when I heard she'd escaped," He shook his head slightly, wearing a troubled look on his face. "And my little sister-in-law was missing the very next day... so I set out after her, due to my wife's pleading."

He cleared his throat slightly. "I had never seen the woman before at that time, so when she walked into my camp that night, I had no idea who she was. But later, after she attacked me, after I'd fended her off, and she disappeared into the night... I realized who she must have been. And I.. felt rather foolish for nearly becoming her next victim." He explained, taking a moment longer to think about her description. "As for what she looks like... all I really noticed about her was her hair," He admitted. "It was bright red," he added. "But, well, it was dark out, and my campfire was mostly embers by that time, so I didn't get a good look at her." Luthor looked down at his right arm. "After she cut my arm, I was more focused on trying to stop the bleeding, and so I was relieved that she fled instead of persisting in her attack."

He looked up at the man. "As I told the lady proprietor last night," He added, meaning Eldrith, "I told my wife I would find her sister, and I told her that there was nothing for her to worry about. That Mary's probably just run off to try being independent for a while, and that she wouldn't get caught up with any criminals." He took a breath, letting it out in a sigh. "But it concerns me that the more I follow Mary's trail, the more I find this murderer's victims strewn along it. I don't think Mary is involved with any of it, but I am getting more and more worried about her safety. It's.. almost as if this woman is pursuing her, and I don't know why. I'm worried. She is a smart girl though, and she has some skill at surviving in the woods, so she may be aware that some dangerous person is after her, and maybe that's why I'm having such trouble locating her." He sighed, shaking his head. "Or, maybe she is being held as a hostage." He added quietly. "It's hard to be sure of anything at this point."

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

Umbar.. *There was a look of darkness on the Feldmarshall's face for a moment. No wonder you were worried. If she had escaped from jail in Minas Tirith and seemed to follow the same path as the woman you were looking for. And if all of those were true, then they would have the likely culprit who'd slain Maerith. That weighed heavy on him. On the whole of Meduseld. It hung in the air like a scent, even though all was being cleaned away. Then again, there was the conversation he'd had this morning. He glanced up at Eldrith who had been greeting the new guest when another came in.

"I can keep a look out for your wife's sister, of course" he offered. If you were speaking truth."I hate to ask but.. are you sure she is still alive and has not fallen victim to that criminal you speak of?" Your description had been vague at best. Red hair but when seen illuminated by the embers of the fire that could be blond or light brown even. It wasn't much. But at least it wasn't likely that they would look among their own for such a horrible deed. That at least was some comfort, though he'd hardly have believed it of his own kin.

And then another guest came in. A woman this time. And one he did not know. Her clothes did not look as if they belonged here, and he allowed his gaze to rest on her, fully. She moved to a table and spoke to Cnith as he handed round the next plates to people. His hand went to Luthor's shoulder. A gentle touch perhaps but enough to put his direction towards the woman. The question in there clear. Could she be the woman you had described? And as Eldrith moved forward, he held up a hand to stop her. There was.. surprise in the pub mistress eyes, but she did indeed halt her approach.


In the meantime, Getale had come forward with the soup for Luthor, simply placing it on the table with a "I would let it cool just a mite. We're looking for Hilda right now. If not I can see if we have someone else. One of our healers just departed this morning to Minas Tirith. Oh if you need a message sent home, we can probably still catch them on the road and ask them to take it with them."

@Rillewen @Merewyn

[Merewyn]

First Time in Edoras: Pt. II

Some time passed before the young man came back. While she waited, Merewyn took in her surroundings. It had been some twenty or so years since she had even been in Rohan, let alone in a Rohirrim village. But this was no mere village, it was Edoras, the home of the King of Rohan. The quality of the buildings, the care with which they were crafted, was far beyond anything she had seen growing up in Smoltwaeter. Though she was sure the Inn was of good quality, she wondered what the other buildings looked like. She imagined the stables were probably covered in carvings and elegant woodwork, the homes filled tapestries detailing family histories, the garrison stocked with gleaming spears and polished leather armor. And Meduseld, the Golden Hall, well...her imagination could not quite picture what that would look like. Gold, she assumed, and more wealth than she could fathom, but beyond that her imagination fell short.

But the Inn was pleasant, in its own way. Her eyes strayed to and fro, watching the movements of the young man and woman who were serving tables and fetching food and ale. She thought she caught their names from other patrons, what sounded to be Cnith and Getale respectively. They moved with a practiced pace, deftly weaving their path through the tables, behind the bar, into the kitchen, and back out again, repeating the process as they gathered vittles and drink for the Inn's patrons. The Inn had an interesting mix of folk. Most, she assumed, were citizens of Edoras and the bulk of those seated around her were men and women of Rohan. But there were a few in the Inn that did not look like Rohirrim to her.

There looked to be an Elf, a Halfling woman, a spattering of Gondorians, and a...man, who she briefly locked eyes with. He had the look of a warrior about him, some man of rank or note in the armies of Rohan, she assumed. He seemed to be gazing back at her, but she couldn't quite make out the expression on his face, though she certainly felt...something, coming from him. She looked back for a moment longer, but averted her gaze and continued to look around at all the others in the Inn. Before long Cnith reappeared at her table. "Ah, hello again! Cnith, right? I thought I heard someone refer to you as that." The young man nodded his head in affirmation. "Wonderful, glad that I got that right. My name is Merewyn. This is my first time here, at the Inn and in Edoras. I was hoping to find somewhere for my horse and I to stay, as well as food and drink for us both. And, if you can point me in the direction of someone who might have work for me, that would be great too."

They exchanged a few words, the typical negotiation of prices for bed and breakfast, soup and ale, hay for her horse, and the information she sought. She pulled a few coins from her side pouch saying, "I don't have any coin from Rohan, but do you accept these? They are the currency used in the Bree-land and the Shire, in the North-west. It may not be from here, but I assume silver spends the same no matter where you are," she said, laughing at her own little joke. She handed him the coins, about an eighth of what she had to her name and sent him on his way to procure her food and drink for her. He had spoken highly of the soup that was available, though he also shared that he was the one who made it, so she took his words with a grain of salt. She hoped for the best, but she knew what braggards men could be, whether it was about feats of strength, fish they caught, or soup that they made.

As Cnith departed for the kitchen, Merewyn chanced a glance back at the man who had stared her down. He didn't seem to be looking in her direction anymore, but he seemed to be involved in an intense conversation. Something about the man perturbed her, likely the animosity she felt in his gaze, which caused her to steel herself and be on guard. Beneath her woolen cloak she felt for her sword, then cursed herself for leaving it tied to her saddle. She had a small hunting knife tucked into her belt, but by the looks of the man she didn't feel it would do much good if needed. At least she had something. She looked around again, evaluating the room. She was closer to the door than him, if trouble started. But he had companions. As the young man returned with a mug of ale, a loaf of bread, and a truly scintillating smelling soup, Merewyn allowed herself to turn her eyes away from the man and his companions. She began to eat and drink, quenching her parched throat and rumbling stomach, though she ate and drank with only her right hand. Beneath her cloak her left hand rested, on the handle of her knife.

[Eamila Bolger]

Two new guests had entered the Inn. A rather tall and loud voiced man from... well, where could he be from? Eamila couldn't quite make up her mind about Utchuk. Eldrith however was quick, and asked him what he wished to order. Eamila grinned. This man looked like he wouldn't settle for a bowl of soup. He was more like a large chunk of meat person. Quickly she went over the list of supplies she had purchased yesterday. Yes, Cnith would be able to prepare something nice for a hungry traveler. In the mean time she would make sure she had their biggest mug for ale ready.

The second guest was a woman, who looked as if she had been traveling for quite a while. At least she was eating like someone who had been on the road for quite a while. Eamila walked over to her and greeted her with a smile and a nod of her head.
'Welcome in the Eallníwe Inn. My name is Eamila Bolger, of Shire origin. Do you find everything to your liking?' I overheard you speaking to Cnith, just now. I'll make sure your horse is tended to. We have a young boy doing errands for us, and he really likes to help out in the stables too. At this moment he is on his way to find a healer for...'
She realized that she probably shouldn't mention private things of paying customers. 'For someone who needs it', she concluded. 'But as soon as he returns I'll ask him to help out. We have a nice stable for the horses of our guests. Is your horse in there already, or did you leave it outside?'
She could always check on the horse for this young woman, and have a look at where the Loremaster was in the mean time. She hoped he hadn't left yet...

NPC Hilda

The door opened again, but this time it was the back door. Unseen by any of the guests, a tall, blonde woman entered the kitchen. Her blond hair was braided in a simple way. Her hands were weathered, but looked strong. She carried a basket full of herbs and bandages with her.
'Cnith', she nodded to the hard working cook, who was just taking a wonderfully smelling bread from the oven. 'Good to see you. Where is my little sister?'
The little sister at that same moment rushed in from the taproom.
'Hilda!' Her face lit up. 'You are most wanted and welcome.'
Hilda gave her sister a hug. 'It's a sad day. Haleth told me about what happened last night.'
Getale sighed and shook her head. 'It's a sad day indeed. That poor girl... and her family... One can only hope that her pain was short, but the pain her parents and sibling feel will last a life time. And in the mean time we're having quite a busy day in the Inn. Many came here to discuss the events... So if you don't mind, I'll just bring you to inside. No, wait...' Getale paused.

'I guess I should fill you in first. The man who's requested a healer is a Gondorian who arrived yesterday. His name is Luthor and he complained about painful feet, which wasn't very surprising since he had lost his horse, so he's been walking quite a distance before coming here. But this morning he really looks ill. He might have a fever, but it's his hands or arms that seem to bother him most. He can barely hold a fork or spoon to eat. He's got me worried, for sure. And the pain seems to make him sort of grumpy. Completely understandable of course, but you better be prepared.'
Hida nodded. 'That's valuable information, thank you. I just hope I have enough supplies with me to help him. Is his room still available in case he would rather be treated in private.'
Getales head jerked up. 'If you don't mind, I'd rather come with you if he does want to be taken to his room to be treated in private. I can be your assistant, or something like that.'
Hilda raised her eyebrows. 'My assistant?'
'Jus let me, will you? There's something about him. Something Eldrith said, earlier this morning. I don't know. Just let me be your assistant. Alright?'
Hilda narrowed her eyes. 'Well, it's always good to have some extra help. Let's get in there and meet the patient.'
The two opened the curtain and walked into the taproom. 'That's him over there, talking to the First Marshal', Getale said. 'I am not sure if we can disturb them. But Guthbrand will call you when he is finished, I think. I'll keep an eye on you and I'll be around when you need me.'

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Luthor

"I.. don't actually know it," Luthor answered with a small frown. "I simply.. hope. I've found a few bodies along the way, but none of them were her." He explained. "I appreciate you keeping an eye out for her." He added. "I don't know how I could ever tell my wife if anything happened to her." He added quietly, looking down at the table with a little sigh.

Then he looked up questioningly at the Feldmarshal when he put a hand on his shoulder. Luthor directed his gaze toward the woman who had come in, after following Guthbrand's line of sight. He looked at the woman who had entered long enough to get a proper look at her, then shook his head as he turned back to the man. "I told you, she has red hair. Fiery red." He spoke quietly enough that only the other man at the table should be able to hear him. "Even if she has managed to dye it... no, that is not her."

A moment later, the waitress brought his soup. Luthor gave a small smile. "Thank you." He answered, in reply to both the warning about the soup, and about their sending for a healer. But, he was surprised by the news about the healer leaving. For Minas Tirith. What? Why would one of their healers be going to Minas Tirith? The fact that this happened, literally the morning after he had arrived, was... uncanny. He wondered if he had any reason to be concerned by that. "Oh, well, that would have been convenient, I'm sure. But I stopped at your post office to send a letter to my superior yesterday, before I came to the inn." He explained. "So, there is no need to send anyone after your traveling healer." He assured the woman.

As Getale returned to the kitchen, Luthor tentatively wrapped his right hand around the mug, testing how hot it felt to his hand. He decided to wait a moment or two before attempting a sip, and rested his hand on the table beside it, instead. He turned back to Guthbrand. "Is there any other information I can offer to help in your investigation, feldmarshal?" He asked, trying to think if he had anything further to offer.

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Utchuk the wanderer

All of his life he had eaten meat, ripe from the bone, roasted over fires and spiced. In the great north the summer were short but sweet, the rest of the annual year was barren, cold and white. Uruk and human had adapted to that cold, learned to fight the white dragons and these beasts saw everything as potential meal. Their breaths turned people in a single iceblock than being usurped by fire, as those southern dragons could. A woman approached him who was quite good looking and appeared to be one of the serving maids (Eldrith). The owner perhaps? An employee? Utchuk knew little of these lands. He nodded: “Thanks, large goldenbrown steak is good for me, and big pint of beer with it. Knife, fork and napkin too.” He hadn’t eaten since the day before. He could do without for a few days, but not really more than that. By then he had to look for food. Watery substances he never liked. The rest of the folk here were humans and a smaller version looked around. He didn’t know all species in Middle Earth. The fire was burning good and he closed his eyes in the meanwhile for the moment. It was good to wait for food, of which the smells came from the kitchen. He hadn’t shared his name, but that was not important. A friendly word was enough. He was here for a decent meal, some rest and then he was on the road again, going back to the lands of his birth. The people here was a mix of men and women. Something of a guard was around as well, talking with the group. He didn’t know any of them, nor the faces and even not their names. The road was always paved with surprises. On his way inside the village he had seen people riding out on horses. A gaze was enough to tell them going to western, southern and eastern directions. Windswept grassland this all was. But inside here, it was quite good.


@ Eamila

[Merewyn]

First Time in Edoras: Pt. III

The young man Cnith had just walked away from Merewyn's table, when a Halfling woman came up to her. Her appearance startled Merewyn, but only because she had not thought to see one of the Shire-folk, or Bree-folk, as might be more likely, in Rohan. The woman introduced herself as one Eamila Bolger, from the Shire. At hearing the surname Merewyn was sure she was from the Shire, even before she confirmed it. She had delivered more than one letter or package to a Bolger in the East and Southfarthings, and was familiar with at least a score of lettered Bolgers. She would have to mention that to Eamila, if the conversation turned that way.

As she spoke, Merewyn studied her and listened. She looked much as one would expect, with a cheery smile, plump cheeks, and the distinct, somewhat matronly look of a Hobbitess with some authority. Merewyn nodded her head as she listened and, when it came time to respond, said, "Thank you, Eamila Bolger, for the welcome. I appreciate it greatly. I had not looked to see one of the Shire-folk here, but you are a most welcome sight after a long journey. I have actually come down from the North, from the Bree-land, though I was in the Shire for work not but a few months ago." She took a sip from her mug and mulled the mead around in her mouth, taking in its excellent flavor before swallowing.

"Ah, good mead. I've missed this. The Bree-folk make worthy drink, especially at The Prancing Pony, but one longs for the comforts of their home after so long away." Her thoughts flashed back to her long years in the wilderness, clinging to memories of an old upbringing in Rohan. They flittered away to thoughts of her life in the Bree-land, making her home amongst a new, strange culture of Men and Halflings, and the struggle to adjust and fit in after so many years alone. Despite her joy at returning to Rohan, there was a pang of regret and longing for the Bree-land in her heart. But she would return some day, of that, she was sure. She had promised after all. The moment of thoughts was brief, and her attentioned snapped back to the Halfling in front of her.

"Everything tastes wonderful. The bread is pleasant, the mead excellent, and the soup is by far the best thing I have tasted in a long time. My compliments to whoever made all of these. My horse is tied up outside, your folk won't be able to miss him. He's an older horse, golden-brown in color, whose name is..," her voice faltered for a moment and she looked around before continuing. She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Eamila and, in almost a whisper said, "His name is Éomer, but for the moment would you mind keeping that between us? I was not the one who named him, my father did many years ago. I never thought anything of the name until news came to my ears about King Theodeon's death and the succession of King Éomer to the throne. I would rather not have anyone else know my horse's name, at least until I am known a little more by the folk of Edoras. I do not want anyone thinking any offense is meant by the name, if you take my meaning."

[Eamila Bolger]

'From the Bree-land?' Eamila echoed. 'Then for sure I must be an unexpected sight. Just as much as it is unexpected to be reminded of a place so close to home...' For a short moment memories of family, friends and Shire living overwhelmed her. 'But this is home now, for me. Although I do desire to return to the Shire one day to visit all those I left.' Ea sighed. 'Oh, I'd love to hear all your stories about Bree, and how your life was there. Today might not be the best day for it. But since you might be staying here over night, we might find some time for talking, if you like? I'd love to hear some news from those parts of Middle Earth. And perhaps I can share some news from here, or at least help you find connections to get settled back here.'

She nodded towards the kitchen. 'I'll give your compliment to our cook Cnith, his mead is what you are tasting. But the soup is mine', she smiled without the least of arrogance. 'It's the recipe my grandmother taught me. Good to stay healthy in these winter days. There is going to be fresh bread too, any minute now. Just let Getale now if you want some.'

After Merewyn mentioned the name of her horse, Eamila grinned. 'I will only whisper that name in his ears', she promised. 'Although it's always better, when in Rohan, to grant your horse a noble name instead of your dog, or pig. Right? But I'll make sure Haleth gives him a good grooming, and hay and fresh water. I will go and find that boy right now, for he seems to have returned.' She glanced at Hilda who was patiently waiting for Luthor and Guthbrand to finish their conversation.
'Enjoy your meal, and I will see you later!', she said to Merewyn.

On her way to the kitchen, she passed Luthor's table. She had no idea if their guest knew the healer had arrived.
'Excuse me', she said. 'I don't want to interrupt your conversation, but I'd just like to let you know that our healer miss Hilda has arrived. She will not disturb you until you are ready for her. She sits over there.' The hobbit nodded towards the counter where Getale and Hilda were having a hushed conversation.
'If you need anything else to eat or drink, please let Getale know. She will wait on you.'

With a small bow she left the table and walked over to the counter.
'Welcome Hilda', she said with a low voice. 'I've informed our guest that you have arrived. I will be off to the stables now to see if Haleth is still there, so he can help with our new guest's horse.'

She grabbed her scarf and opened the back door. The stables were on the side of the Inn, so she went there first to find the boy.
'Haleth? Are you there?'
Before she could call again, she saw his head appear from behind the compost heap.
'Ah, there you are! Do you think you can help me out with the horse of a guest? It's standing in front of the Inn, but it will stay with us for at least one night and day. So if you can bring it here and give it some care?'
It seemed like the boy wasn't hearing her. He stood still and watched the entrance of the stables.
'My goodness boy, what is wrong?'
He looked her way now, with big eyes.
'There's an Elf in the stables.' He said it with awe.
Eamila chuckled. Elves were not common, but she had met quite a few in here life. Here in Rohan though, not many people had ever seen Elves.
'That's one of our other guests. A Loremaster, who goes by the wonderful name of Quennar Tarcelmë. You can talk to him if you want to? But if you'd be so kind to get the horse first, I'd be very grateful. In the mean time I'll go inside to speak to him right now.'
Haleth sprinted off. He loved horses and didn't mind caring for them a bit.

Eamila smiled. She loved the boy as if he were her own. And even if he was already almost taller than she was, she still loved to hug him every now and then. The smile was still on her face as she entered the stable. The stables were warmer than it was outside, and the smell of hay made her sneeze once. Her eyes needed some time to get used to the darker area. But then she saw the Loremaster.
Still smiling she walked up to him.
'I hope you had a good night, master Quennar Tarcelmë? Do you need any breakfast, or is there anything else I could do for you?'
She hoped he would mention the earlier discussed trip to Fangorn, but she didn't want to rush anything. Behind her she already heard the sound of hooves and the slightly off tone whistle of Haleth.

@Eldrith @Rillewen @Merewyn @Aikári Salmarinian

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

As Luthor shook his head, there was a hint of disappointment and at the same time a slight relaxation of Guthbrand's shoulders. It likely was not a good thing to have to corner the miscreant here at the inn in front of everyone, where the chance existed that she would take hostages. "Glow of fire might have made it look more red at night" He said, but you were certain it wasn't her, and he allowed that certainty to weight through.

Merewyn might notice that the stance of the Feldmarshall had considerably relaxed and if she looked in his direction, this time there would be a polite smile and nod to a guest of the inn, who was likely NOT the murderer that had slaughtered a young woman this morning. After all, it would be rather unlikely that they would have TWO murderers running around. Murder was uncommon. Brawls, yes. The occasional theft, but Meduseld was tightly interwoven with family and trade relationships. Most of the more severe crime came from outside, at least he liked to think so.

"I will send a message to Minas Tirith for a description from the guards, though I am afraid it will be weeks before an answer arrives. And I will make sure a description of your wife's sister is sent to all the Eored's in the mean time."

Eldrith in the mean time danced the dance of hospitality and after a nod to Utchuck and a smile, she disappeared into the kitchen, just in time to see Eamila cross through. "May your journey be blessed, freond mine" she murmured.

Seeing Hilda and overhearing Getale offering to be her assistant she gave a nod of approval while she went to get the requested food. "A very good idea" She murmured to Getale as she made her way to Cnith to get the food and allowed herself just a moment to breath. She'd been up very early this morning.

It didn't last long though, before Cnith slid the goldenbrown steak unto a plate for her and sent her a look. She shook her head, then brought the smile back forth and headed into the taproom to hand out the steak and beer, with a good napkin as well as a knife and fork. and a small bowl to the side. "Caldreda turnips. On the house." She said easily, trying to assess what was going on. And to send up a quiet hope that she hadn't sent Eamila into an adventure.

@Eamila Bolger @Rillewen @Merewyn @Aikári Salmarinian

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

Luthor gave a little smile in reply to Guthbrand's suggestion that the fire may have made the woman's hair appear red. Shaking his head slightly, he insisted, "It's red." After a small hesitation, he explained, "During the struggle, I ended up pulling her hair. I discovered the next morning that some strands were left behind, caught on the button on my sleeve-cuff. So I know for a fact that her hair is red." It was a reasonable explanation, and he could think of no reason why anyone should disbelieve it.

At that moment, the hobbit lady stopped by, politely letting him know that the healer had arrived. About time, he thought irritably. He looked where she had indicated, and gave a little nod. Restraint. He had to keep suppressing himself from his natural inclinations. His illness was not making it any easier, either. He gave a weak smile. "Thank you." He was going to ask her to let the woman know that he was ready right now, but the halfling hurried off too quickly.

Annoyed, Luthor turned back to Guthbrand, as the man declared that he would send messages to Minas TIrith. He considered that briefly. He frowned slightly as he wrapped his right hand around his mug, carefully lifting it with a slightly shaky hand to take a sip of the soup. It had cooled enough now that he could do so without burning himself, yet still plenty warm enough.

After lowering his mug again, he took a moment to appreciate the fact that he'd managed not to turn his arm at the angle that caused it to hurt intensely. "I would.. use caution, in any contact you make with the guards in the city," He advised the man quietly. "I regret to say this," Here, he leaned a little closer. "I'm only telling this to warn you, but.. some of the guards, in particular some of the high-ranking guards... are under suspicion of being corrupt." He informed him in a low voice. "The captain, a lieutenant.." He shook his head with a little sigh. "Last I heard, there were investigations going on, but it's very possible that they were behind the escape of this criminal in the first place. I certainly don't trust them, and I would advise you to be.. wary in any dealings you have with them."

Sitting back again. he hoped that this would discourage the man from making any contact with the guards in Minas Tirith. And, also, perhaps it would also sow some seeds of distrust between the two nations. But as for giving out a description of his sister-in-law, he had no objection, there. "Thank you, I'm sure that would help." He answered gratefully. "Is there anything else, Feld marshal?" He glanced over at the woman who had been pointed out to him. " There is a healer waiting to check on my injuries," He explained, feeling far from well at the moment.

[Eamila Bolger]

Hilda - healer of Rohan
In the Inn waiting for Luthor

From where she was seated, Hilda carefully observed the guest her sister had pointed to. She noticed his discomfort, the careful way he tried to eat and his complexion that was rather pale. Hilda also saw how he looked at her, during his conversation.

She had not been called for yet, but she felt she was needed anyway. There was no rush as she stepped forward and approached him. Just calmness and determination.
"Westu hál" didn't seem like the right way to greet someone who obviously wasn't feeling well. So she just waited a few steps away from the table for him to address her first. She was close enough to be called upon, and yet far enough to be polite and not break in to the conversation Luthor had with Guthbrand.

Eamila Bolger
In the stables with Haleth and Quennar Tarcelmë

Meanwhile Eamila stood still in the stables, watching Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë and waiting for him to answer her question about breakfast and traveling for Fangorn today. She patted Éomer on his side - as high as she could reach - while Haleth was grooming the horse. The boy whistled a song and the horse was happily munching some hay. The peace in the stables somehow comforted her. Eamila smiled and sighed. Slowly the tension of earlier that day seemed to lessen.

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë

Manipulating the mist was fun for him, but when the wind stuck up again, it vanished. And so was his source of fun. With his stuff he had found a way into the stables earlier. Næxærra’s white fur made him into a normal looking horse, but still very beautiful. Quennar’s own horse was here too. He saw a stable boy walking around, grooming and feeding the other horse. But Quennar paid no attention to him. It would possibly reported back into the inn, he was here. Not long after the Hobbit girl appeared. “Hello Eamila, maybe you should take something for yourself on the way? What you like to have?” he answered her instead. He didn’t need anything, he had provided food for himself. But what nourished him enough to get on for days, for the smaller kinds this was different. His night was okay, but he would not elaborate about it. What had happened, she wouldn’t understand at all, nor anyone around.


Utchuk the wanderer

He was perfectly skilled to be human in appearance. The maiden (Eldrith) who had taken his order came back with the steak and beer, napkin, fork and knife also. Some red vegetable was on the menu as well, but he was not sure if he really liked the taste of that. “Ah alright, sounds good. Thanks for the meal,” he said with a careful nod. Table manners he had learned along the way. It had been all worth to overcome all primal instincts from childhood. Against the frost dragons only the use of fire worked. People from two sides had come together since the banishing of the biggest overlord ever and the northern region had turned into a quite tranquil place, where live could thrive with excellent adaptations. He carefully cut a piece of the steak and stuffed it with his fork into his mouth. The taste was a bit strange, probably the herbs used, but it was good. The juicy effects would do him well. He needed quick forms of energy. He burned off a lot with a strong size. He tried one of the turnips. He tried a half one first. A slight frown he tasted it to see if his digestive system would agree with it. He did chew it away and swallowed it, waiting how his stomach would react. But there were no pins or pains after a few moments and he ate the steak further. He drank something of the beer.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

"I can help you to your room so you may receive the healer's attentions." It was offered with the open helpfulness that seemed to characterize many in Rohan. They may not be scholars, but theirs was a hard and honest life, in which ties of blood, kinship and friendship helped them to survive and thrive. He held out an arm, allowing you to decide how to find support that would not hurt, yet as he did, he asked his questions none the less. "How may I describe your wife's sister?" He did not ask further questions of Minas Tirith officers, though he knew the First Marshall at least had connections enough with reliable people there. If necessary a bit of information might be had...

Even as he offered help to Luthor, Guthbrand half turned to offer a warmer smile to Hilda. Healers were in short supply at the moment. And her services most appreciated. "Shall I help him to his rooms for you?" Was there a certain curiosity as to the man's wounds, yes. But so far nothing was said or done that would make him entitled to ask any questions, and he knew better than to press a healer for anything.

"You are most welcome." Edrith offered Utchuck. She simply accepted him for what he was, a patron at the inn. A LARGE patron at the inn. Large strangers always bore watching, but so far he'd been nothing but polite. And she appreciated manners. With a grin, she moved to the next table, inquiring if things were well, and if they needed anything, then moved to the table that Eamila had just left and offered a smile.
"I hope the food is well. You had a long journey today? Forgive me, my friend had to leave on.. urgent business." Her friend had a chance of an adventure of the less harsh sort, and she would want her to have that chane, but she'd not leave you unattended.

@Rillewen @Eamila Bolger @Aikári Salmarinian@Merewyn

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

Luthor looked at the feldmarshal questioningly when the man offered to help him. He thought of declining, for his arms were the affliction. But he had complained of his feet hurting him yesterday, so he supposed the man must have heard about that. And he had nothing in his room to hide. And besides, he did still need to give a description of 'Mary', so he offered a wan smile. "Thank you, that's very kind of you." He wanted to have his arm treated, and soon. So the less delays, the better. It felt hot, while he felt chilled throughout the rest of his body. He had rarely ever been sick in his life, even as a child, so it was not enjoyable to feel sick now when he had things to do. Either his arm was getting bad, or he was coming down with something, and he suspected the former.

"You must be the healer," He added, addressing Hilda as the woman approached. The Rohirrim words were strange to him, and he had no interest in learning them so he continued to use Common. But he also continued to speak politely. "Thank you for coming. I'm Luthor." He informed her. "I hope you've brought something for treating a possibly infected wound." He mentioned with concern, while gesturing toward the room where he had been assigned upon his arrival. "They put me in the last room on the left. I'd prefer to be treated in private, if you don't mind.. I thought I could keep it from being too noticeable, but it began bothering me a lot during the night, and I could hardly sleep. I woke feeling a little fevered, and I'm not very well versed in treating wounds." In fact, it had never really occurred to him to learn much about treating wounds.. only how to inflict them upon his enemies.

[Eamila Bolger]

Hilda was prepared.
Cnith would have boiled the requested kettle of hot water for her by now, so that she could wash out the wound. She nodded in answer to the question whether she had enough with her to take care of a possibly inflamed wound. She had a bag full of herbs and ointment with her. But also sharp tools for cutting where necessary.

"Of course, I understand," she nodded again when the Gondorian indicated that he preferred to be treated in his room. 'From a hygiene point of view, I think that's a good plan too.' Moreover, she could imagine that most guests would prefer to eat their food without witnessing a medical treatment.

She listened to the description of Luthor's complaints. 'Fever, even when it’s only mild, could certainly be consistent with an inflamed wound. As well as redness of the wound, loss of function and swelling. And pain, of course. And I may be able to do something about that too, if desired. That will depend on your plans for the next few days, I suspect.’
She knew enough Rohirrim who didn't want pain relief so as not to lose their sharpness.

'But let's walk to the room first. Do you mainly suffer from your arm, or both arms?' It sounded like a question, because he hadn't mentioned it. She had observed him 'though, and the arms seemed to be his biggest source of pain from what she could tell.
'Walking will be fine? If you don’t mind, someone from the staff is going to assist me. She’ll bring some hot water and can help me when I need an extra hand. Don’t worry: she may be working in the Inn, but she was raised by one of the greatest healers Rohan has ever seen. As was I.’

It wasn't until now that she addressed the Field Marshal. She was one of the few who actually called him by name, a habitude that had its origin somewhere in their childhood.
''Thank you for your offer, Guthbrand. If it's his arms that hurt most, it might be best to stay around to help when help is needed, but let's see if he can walk by himself first. That way you won't have to hold him by his already painful arms.''

@Eldrith @Rillewen

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

"I can walk well enough to get to my room. I came out here on my own, didn't I?" Luthor asked, struggling not to get irritated. The longer he had to endure this pain, the harder it was becoming to keep a polite tone. He'd only managed to eat soup from a mug, which meant he wasn't able to get very much to eat. They still hadn't even brought the bread, either. Perhaps they'd bring it to his room, once it finished baking? He still had a slight limp as he walked, but he did not need any aid, starting toward his room while he talked with those accompanying him.

He drew a slow breath, reminding himself that he needed the healer to be willing to treat his wounds. And she was far less likely to do that if he didn't mind his manners. "Sorry," He apologized. "I've really been in pain, and I suppose it's made me a little short. For that, I apologize. And no, I don't mind you having someone assist," He added. "I just want my arms to stop hurting," He sighed.

He was glad that the healer understood, and even agreed, that it was best to treat him in a private room. He couldn't care less about the other guests' comfort, or the hygiene of the wound being treated in a place where people eat. He only really cared about not having a lot of people staring and seeing his injuries. "It is both arms," He answered, frowning. "I'd rather not talk about that out in the public room, however."

As for Guthbrand, he still had to give him a description of the girl. So, he had little doubt that the man would follow, especially when the healer even asked him about helping. Therefore, Luthor started down the hall toward the room that was his, while thinking about what he wanted to tell and what he did not. He reached the door to his room, fumbling with the key a little before letting them in. His pack of belongings was all he had brought, and it rested in the corner. His cloak hung on the hook, clean, thanks to Eamila.

"Shall I sit down?" he asked the healer, unsure if that would make things easier for her. It would certainly be easier for him. "As for what you asked," He added to Guthbrand, "My wife's sister is teenaged. She's rather short, though. She could be mistaken for a child," He explained. "She dresses like a boy, as well, and she may be disguising herself," He sighed. "Personally, I believe she's run away so she can explore the world. I don't think she is willingly involved with this murderess. She's likely in danger, so, it's possible that she may have disguised herself." He explained. "All I can tell you then, is the features she cannot change. She has many freckles, for instance. And green eyes." He shrugged. "She may be frightened if she thinks that dangerous woman is after her, so I don't know how well she'd trust anyone saying they're trying to help her. Her name is Mary, but she may not answer to it."

[Eldrith]

GuthbrandIn a private room at the inn

He did indeed follow. He'd noted the outburst of temper but also the apology and he'd seen wounded or recuperating cavalry members curse out healers with a certain amount of regularity, only to appear apologetic and meek as lambs after the pain was gone, or the restrictions that stopped them from riding were lifted.

He waited to see if you needed assistance to walk and Eldrith stopped by and pushed some bread in a bowl in his hand while you fumbled with the key. It was already cut in smaller strips, easy to hold, easy to eat. As they went in, he set it down and listened, then summarized.

"A young teenage girl, with freckles and green eyes. Possibly could be looking like a young teenage boy with freckles and green eyes. Hair color uncertain. And short enough to look like child still. I will let the word spread. Her shortness is likely the most obvious feature as unknown children are not likely to roam without parents or others."

Sure, children would roam the street of their hometown, going on errands, having fun, playing or working. But unknown children, without any one near would at least draw greetings, and easy questions.

In the inns' public space

After handing off the bread to the Feldmarshal, which had led to a 'look' she moved back in the main room. Utchuck had been given his steak, families were moving in and around and she moved towards the woman who Eamila had been talking to.

"Busy say." She said with easy cheer, nodding around. "We've been doing good business of late. Would you be wanting a room for the night or are you staying with family?"

@Merewyn @Aikári Salmarinian @Eamila Bolger @Rillewen

[Eamila Bolger]

In the stables with Loremaster Quennar

Food for on the road. Such good thinking. Eamila wondered why she hadn't thought of this herself.
'I will be back!', she said, and she hurried off to the kitchen, where Cnith without even blinking, shoved a package to her. She raised her eyebrows, only to meet the biggest grin she had ever seen from him.
'You didn't think I forgot about your traveling, did you?' he said. 'I saved you some slices of the bread I just baked. Have great fun, dear friend. And think of me if you see any fresh herbs that are ready to pick. We are in dire need of some provision, now winter is coming to its end.'
Eamila grinned back. 'I will, dear Cnith. And thank you. Let me see... what goes well with bread...'
It was a rhetorical question really. Was there anything that did NOT taste with bread? But it helped her focus. She filled her traveling bag with some old cheese, dried meat, oatmeal cookies, three apples (one for the horse for sure) and a water bag.

'That should do,' she decided. 'Send my love to Eldrith, I guess she is somewhere else tending to our guests. I do hope this day won't be too busy, with me gone. But you never know, I might bring back stories to tell that will fill up the Inn for several nights!'
She left the kitchen and walked back to the stables.
'Here I am!', were her simple words. But inside she was full of emotion. Longing, excitement, a little bit of fear... but most of all, gratitude for this opportunity. She waited for Quennar to get his horse and mount it. Surely he would help her up that big animal without any effort. She was ready!


In Luthor's room

Guthbrand and Luthor seemed to have finished their conversation. And if not, they could surely continue while she was doing her job. Looking at the Gondorian, Hilda didn't feel like waiting much longer.
'Forgive me,' she said. 'But let's have a look at those wounds now, master. Please, do sit down. It would make it easier for the both of us.'
She pointed at the small table in the room, picked up the chair that was standing next to the bed and placed it next to the table.
'If you just sit down here, you can let your arms rest on the table. Now, if you could roll up your sleeves for me? Or is that to painful and should I do it for you?'

@Rillewen @Eldrith @Aikári Salmarinian

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

Luthor took a seat at the table as indicated by the healer. "Thank you," He answered the feld marshal, when the man assured him that he'd spread the word about Mary. He had given Guthbrand enough of the description to possibly be able to find her, but not enough to connect any details that might be inconvenient for Luthor. "I only hope she's alright," He sighed, then focused on the bread that had been brought in. Good, he had been waiting a while on it.

He resisted taking a piece yet, however, as the healer requested that he roll up his sleeves. He would have to do more than that, however. His right hand fumbled with trying to roll up the sleeve of his left arm, wincing slightly here and there. "This one is the worst injury. Better treat it first." He explained. Beneath the sleeve was a bandage, many days old and stained in places where the wound had bled through and then dried. "I don't think I can take off the bandage on my own," He added with a little cringe. "That's why I haven't changed it, even though I know it needed it.. besides the fact I had nothing to use as a new bandage."

He had also been reluctant to let anyone know of his injury, for he hated having his arm weakened and barely useable. He held out his arm to allow the healer to do that part. Only then did he take a piece of the bread, so he could eat some while the healer worked.

He realized, of course, that when the bandage was removed, those present would see how badly his arm had been messed up by that stupid animal. He decided to give forewarning to the feld marshal so he wouldn't think he had caught the Gondorian in a lie, "This happened after that woman attacked me." He informed him with a nod to his arm. "An animal bit me.. I didn't see what it was. Maybe a coyote, or.. I don't know. It happened during the night... it must have smelled the blood from my wound. I woke up and this vicious animal was there, trying to eat my arm, so I had to fight the thing off. It messed up my arm pretty badly." He frowned, clearly unhappy about this.

"I saw a healer in the first village I passed along my way. He did the best he could for me." He added, to explain why there would be obvious signs that his injury had been treated over a week ago. "I was.. hesitant to let anyone know that I had been bitten," He added, as surely they could understand the sort of worry and panic something like that could cause.

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë

So much was going on. But in the stables it was quiet. Quennar jumped lightly in the saddle. He sat on the borrowed fellow, who could fly over the land without much effort. But any strangeness was hidden in plain sight. Næxærra looked as any other horse. The Onodhrim could recognise the horse perhaps, but that was a worry about then. The hobbit girl Eamila returned to the kitchens and the Elda smiled. Each race had particular tastes and Hobbits were notorious for their many meals in a day. Eamila would not be an exception. When she appeared and announced she was here, Quennar lifted her easy off the ground and placed her before him. Her legs could never reach the stirrups. He held an arm around the middle to keep her in place. The horse was beautifully white at this hour of the day. “You’re sitting alright?” asked Quennar for confirmation. “We are soon off to Fangorn. It is a short ride over the plains.” On front the girl would see everything. Behind him she would not. He had sturdy in the saddle. It was also possible to ride without. Mearas were whirlwind wonders. He tapped on the neck of the horse to go, which was enough to leave the stable in a quiet trot.


Utchuk the wanderer

The lady Edrith offered her most welcome and left him alone. He was always watched for some reason, but he was used to it and paid no attention. Long ago he had learned to pay no regard. People couldn’t keep staring all the time, it strained their necks painfully. He ate the steak as breakfast. The turnips… well by halves they were worked away. In combination with the steak, as it dampened the quite sweet taste. It taught him something how these people ate this kind of food. Over the years he had collected a good library of such details in his mind. These roots would be high-priced delicacy all up in the frozen north. The beer was okay. He kept his attention to his elaborate meal and for now he wasn’t done. He didn’t talk with anybody, nor was anyone approaching him. The occupation at the table for himself fitted perfectly. He ate with fork and knife and let this all happen around him. The wounded man (Luthor) was away to somewhere private and all hassle was gone for now. He liked the steak, it was good.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

Seeing that Guthbrand had followed into the room, Getale had decided she wasn't actually needed to keep an eye on things. She'd dare the man to try anything with the feldmarshal watching. Having exchanged a glance with the man, she'd gone back to the public spaces, just conveniently leaving the door open just a tiny bit behind her. Guthbrand merely nodded and kept his face impassive as the wound was uncovered. He wasn't looking for lies here. He had no reason to. And clearly.. something had bit you. He looked at Hilda and merely asked one thing. "Wound fever?"
Wound fever was what brought down many of those that had actually survived the battle and with the wound old and the bandage crusted in, there was a rather nasty chance of it. Your good fortune was likely that you'd seen a healer earlier. If it had been cleaned well...

She WAS always looking. Not staring, or at least she hadn't intended to, but even on a normal day, she kept her eyes open. What she mostly spied were a pair of brothers who were having a dispute that was threatening to spill over, a couple of apprentices out for mischief or other mundane things. But this day, there was a Gondorian in her pub who was possibly, maybe involved in something. There had been a murder this past night, and there were other... smaller problems brewing. Right now, she was talking to the woman who had returned to Rohan after many years, but she kept a close eye on where everyone was, at all times. Almost as if she was.. used to keeping people out of trouble.


@Eamila Bolger @Aikári Salmarinian @Rillewen @Merewyn

[Eamila Bolger]

With focus Hilda listened to Luthor's description of both the wound and how it had happened. A wild animal... she hoped the wound had been cleaned well by the healer in that village. And even if it had, there was a chance some kind of infection could appear from whatever the animal had been carrying itself.
She nodded in understanding as Luthor explained why he hadn't tended the wounds himself.
So she poured some of the hot water in an empty bowl and washed her hands with soap first. She then placed a clean cloth on the table underneath the arm, and carefully started to loosen the bandage.

If it had been clean before, there was no way of knowing anymore. She hoped that the smell coming from it, was indeed coming from the dirty bandage, but she feared that it was what was under that bandage that smelled so bad instead.
The healer nodded at Guthbrand's remark about the wound fever. 'Aye, that certainly is a possibility,' she said. Another part of the bandage came off, and the smell became more penetrating.
''Perhaps you could open a window?' It wasn't really a question to the Feld Marshal, but more an order disguised as a suggestion. This was her work area. She was in charge here, no matter how high his rank might be in the cavalry.

Fortunately the fire in the room was burning. When all the bandages were peeled off, Hilda threw them in the fire. Then she washed her hands again and returned to her patient.
'Well. I won't say I haven't seen worse than this before, for I have. But I must say, it doesn't look good.'
She covered her right hand in a white cloth and very gently pushed the skin around the wound. It was swollen alright, and obviously tender. The skin was a lot darker than it should have been, apart from a few yellow spots with dirty crust. She held the arm up, but there was no sign of sepsis. Yet. No red streaks going from the wound up to the arm pit. At least that was good news, for now.

She paused for a moment, and took time to think. 'Well'. She looked Luthor in the eyes. 'This is badly infected alright, but I am not surprised considering your pain and fever. I suspect that there is pus under some parts of this wound. Before I can do anything else, I'll have to clean it and that will include opening it a bit wider than it is right now, to make sure it is cleaned well. After that, I'll apply a compress with herbs that cure infection and speed up recovery. It's not an option to stitch you up, because if there is more filth in there, your body should be able to get rid of it.'

With a softer voice now, she continued. 'I'll also leave some other herbs to make a medicinal tea to bring down your fever and help the body cure. I have no idea what your plans are, and whether you are able to stay here. I recommend that you do, so I can come back twice a day to change the bandage and check that wound. If that doesn't fit your schedule, I will do the best I can right now. But I would urge you not to travel again before you see some improvement. If you go back on the road after just one treatment, well. Then I cannot guarantee what the outcome will be. There is no blood poisoning yet, but if this wound stays infected, you might get it after all. And if that happens somewhere out there...'
She looked through the window and nodded towards the hills. 'Then death will come. Slowly. And painfully. It's your choice though. As long as you realize that there's no simple patching up here. There's more needed to recover from this.'

@Rillewen @Eldrith '

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

It had been a while now since he left from Lond Col, and Luthor knew that he had been negligent in caring for the wound. He had not really thought it was as serious as all that, but also, he couldn't exactly deal with it on his own. And he was too proud to have admitted to Gerard that his arms were injured and that he was weakened. He'd done all he could to hide the fact from the man. And then that fight with the girl, in the cave, had certainly not done him any good.

As the healer worked at unwrapping it, Luthor clenched his teeth and tried, unsuccessfully, not to wince. There were places where the wounds had bled through, then the blood had dried and therefore stuck to his arm when it was being unwrapped. That did not feel good. It also did not feel good when she started poking and prodding into the wound, and he let out a little hiss through his teeth whenever her prodding was too painful. It was all he could do not to snap at her. The woman was lucky she wasn't his servant, like Merilda had been.

He tried to distract himself with eating another piece of the bread that had been brought in there. At least it kept his mouth busy, so he didn't snap or curse at the woman. Sure, she was here to help him, but did she have to hurt him in the process? He wanted to grumble, but he refrained.

And then, after concluding her inspection of his wound, she spoke some very sobering words. Luthor caught his breath as she informed him how very serious this was. It wasn't just a matter of putting it off and letting the wound heal more slowly than it might. He swallowed, and gave a slow, serious nod. Right... he very much did not want to die. And especially, not like she described. He still had plenty of things to do. The woman had no reason to lie to him, he figured. So... any plans he had would have to wait. Much to his regret, he would have to stay right here. For now. He let out a slow breath.

"It'll scar, won't it?" He guessed, frowning. He'd suspected all along that it was going to leave a scar. "I'll stay here," He agreed, though with reluctance. He had not wanted to stay in one place for too long. He wanted to track down the girl again. And he needed to contact his mentor, too. And there were other things... he also should be getting back to his estate, to make sure plans were going well there. But.. it looked like all his plans would have to be on hold for now.

But as long as he was here, he thought of a few things he might be able to get answers to. While the healer began on the next step of cleaning his wound, Luthor remained quiet for a moment while thinking about his wording, then asked something that had been on his mind. "Ms.. healer," he realized he had not been told her name, "You might be able to answer something for me, if you don't mind." He paused to allow a moment for her reply before proceeding with his question. "If a person endured something very.. frightening, or horrible, is it possible they might forget about it, later on?" He asked with a small frown. "Or, perhaps.. even join with the person who had done those things, as an accomplice? Say, they began as a hostage, and ended up as a partner in crime, for instance. Is that possible, if it goes against how they were raised? And is it possible that they might come to forget their family, and the values they were taught?" He paused before adding, "I'm only asking out of concern for my young sister-in-law. I'm sure that the girl I know would never do those things.. I believe she's merely running away and being pursued by the criminal, but I also want to be aware of all possibilities, just in case." He explained, as a way of disguising what he was really trying to find out.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

He didn't salute, but he did bend his head in a quick bow of respect, before going to do the healer's bidding and opening a window. He knew better than to protest of even to hesitate to do what a healer says. Of course it had sounded like a question, a polite one even. Maybe just.. a suggestion. But he recognized an order. It made him smile. In one way, healers outranked all of us, as he'd said to Shivased that very morning. He was disciplined enough not to suck in his breath at Hilda's dire prediction in case Luthor went back out there, before that wound was cleaned and healed. That wasn't just a prediction, it was a warning.

He remained near the window while Hilda worked to give at least some privacy but at the same time to remain available as well in case strong hands were needed. Sometimes.. those wounded needed to be held down when treatment was painful enough where instinctive reactions overcame the knowledge that what was done, was done for the best. He took a single step closer as Luthor addressed him.

"I do not know." That was the answer he gave, after a pause and it was an honest one. "I know of a few cases of men who have forgotten being in battle or even their names. Usually they were wounded in the head. And of course there are those who are under.. other influences." The fact that the murder had had the eye near said enough. There were those around who still worshipped evil. And perhaps they practiced dark arts as well. He wouldn't put it past any.


Eldrith trusted that what was happening in the private room was done for the best, and she was grateful that there were no screams rising up. Screams would upset the patrons. And she couldn't have THAT happening! At least the visitor seemed to enjoy his meal. Strangers were always welcome though today perhaps they were looked at by some with a bit more worry. She remained close enough in case he would signal for the plates to be removed, but did not remove them without that signal because it might seem as if she was hurrying him along, and it was custom to be able to linger, over a meal or company or just the coziness of the fire.


@Eamila Bolger @Rillewen @Aikári Salmarinian

[Eamila Bolger]

Hilda chose to ignore the suppressed hiss. Had this been a child, she would have spoken reassuring words. But with an adult man, the best tactic was usually to work with full focus and not pay attention to expressions of pain. Not because she didn’t feel sorry for them, but because she knew that some men found this a sign of weakness. A suppressed cry or soft moan that escaped the lips of a wounded man in spite of everything, therefore gave her no reason to express pity. At most she would utter an apology for the pain she caused.

The healer listened to Guthbrand answer Luthor's question, and nodded in agreement. 'I've also heard that this can happen,' she added. 'I remember one specific case in which a boy was taken at a very young age by a group of robbers from Dunland. When he returned on a raid fifteen years later, he no longer recognized his family, and neither did his family recognize him. But then, when he was confronted with the past that he was not aware of, he began to dream strangely. He no longer felt at home with the Dunlending and decided to return to Rohan. There we discovered who he really was. He was never quite able to find his place again, but the memories did come back. I think he went back to live on the farm with his parents.'

For a moment, Hilda was distracted. The memory of the inconsolably crying mother made her shiver. She shook her head. "But given the fact that your wife's daughter has only been gone for a short time, I don't think that will happen so quickly."
She immediately realized that this was an assumption. Luthor had not told her how long the girl had been missing. But she couldn't imagine that he would have started his search only years after her disappearance.

Everything was now ready for further treatment of the wound. "This is going to hurt," she warned when she started cleaning. 'Do you want a piece of wood to bite on? Or perhaps a sip of liquor to relieve the pain a little?'



Outside the Inn the beautiful elven horse started moving. Eamila felt a mixture of joy, expectation and excitement go through her. She grabbed the saddle tightly and looked behind her, at Quennar Tarcelmë. The adventure could begin.

@Aikári Salmarinian @Rillewen @Eldrith

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

Luthor turned his gaze toward Guthbrand, when he answered the question before the healer lady had a chance. Her response, which came just after, was less interesting than his. "Wounded in the head?" He repeated, thoughtful. People forgetting their own name.. that could be the same kind of thing as a person forgetting their own family, too. And of course, he didn't have to ask what he meant about 'other influences'. But he knew that wasn't the case with her.

The healer's story about the boy wasn't really the same thing, so he wasn't as interested in hearing about a child taken at a young age and not ever knowing his family. He had asked about someone being older, and forgetting things after a traumatic event. But whatever, he thought he might have gotten an answer from what Guthbrand told him. For now, gave a small smile in reply when she assured him that did not seem likely to happen with the girl he sought. "No, not likely." He agreed. "My sister-in-law is plenty old enough to remember." Which is exactly why he was confused why she did not seem to.

For now, though, he let the healer focus on her task instead of asking more questions. When warned that it was going to hurt, he drew a slow breath to brace himself. He knew it was going to hurt, of course. He'd been through it before, with the last healer, back in Lond Col. Now, he had to endure this again, thanks to that girl. He thought of a few curses to throw her way, but then swiftly reminded himself that he must maintain a polite persona, here. "I'll take a drink, please. Thank you." He decided, though he declined having something to stick in his teeth. He'd never seen much point to that, personally. If he wanted to clench his teeth, he'd do that. Having something to clench them onto wouldn't make much difference, other than maybe preventing him from shouting anything he oughtn't, but he felt mostly confident in his self-control. He'd kept up this charade for most of his life. He could do it now, even when in much pain.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

*Considering he had seen men break their teeth when the healer did their worst, or their best, depending on the perspective, he'd have taken something to bite on. But he didn't speak up. That was between the healer and the man. His worries about his sister in law though were another matter. If she had forgotten. If she could do things that went against all the values she had been taught.. was the man worried that the girl he described could have performed the attack?

"Everything she was brought up to believe in... you think your sister in law is capable of great evil?"

He threw the question out like one would throw out a stone in the pond. There was something there, something he couldn't put his finger up. It combined with the worry that Eldrith had pointed out. The comparison between the young woman this man sought and the one who had helped out Xyler years ago. Adding the murder in made matters even more frought

"Need me to hold him down for you, Hilda? Or want me to get the liquor first?" He asked, considering there always was the chance of a patient lashing out in pain without really intending to. It wasn't the first time a healer ended up as the one bruised after a treatment. Not that it deterred any of them. Quietly he made the resolve to send to Minas Tirith for more information on the escaped convict. He was somewhat surprised no messages had been sent yet if such a murderer had escaped and was suspected to make their way into Rohan's lands. Usually the courtesies were observed.



@Eamila Bolger @Rillewen
OOC @Aikári Salmarinian I figured I'd let Eldrith's post stand like it was in previous if you wanted to include both

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Utchuk the wanderer

The meal was finished for him. The knife and fork were on the plate. Was there more to eat or was this for the first meal of the day? He had no idea what kind of currency he needed, but he left some good coins from Gondor on the table. If it was worth he guessed so, perhaps it was too much. Human affairs were not that familiar with him. Economics were not expected from him. But leave without giving something for their work was not fair either. He raised his hand toward the waitress (Eldrith). “Here are some goldcoin from Gondor for the good meal. I hope it is enough,” he said. “You have something for later on the road?” It was quiet around this hour, with not much happening. All commotion had died down for now. What happened inside the other room was not his concern. He had pulled it off in great success to be human. At markets, at inns, in the field, with shopping and watching games.

His ancestors came from the destroyed lands of Anfauglith, Dorthonion and Lothlann. The Thangorodhrim were a set of vulcanoes, where his ancestors had among lived. Since the destruction of it all and the banishing of the overlord, his people had known freedom above the Ered Engrin, lands of the everlasting cold. Today that cold north was home to all sorts of wildlife, boreal forests had spread over the grounds, and it become home to both humans and uruks. The rugged landscape asked hardened peoples. There were no kings or overlords, it was just tribal country, thinly populated. Most people dwelt by the bay or more inland, in the forests. They lived together in rugged bondships to fight off the white dragons, that lived also in those lands. Utchuk lived a life in freedom, with a good promise to raise a family of his own one day.

***********

Loremaster Quennar Tarcelmë

Eamila sat well before him, so they left the stables on route towards the forests. It was a downward trip toward the gates of the town. Much could not said about it. The Hobbits had fancier home than this lot. But these wooden houses were built to withstand the strength of the forcing plain winds. But today it was pretty good weather to head out. So much could be said who the Onodhrim were. He had seen them often enough. The ride would take some hours, but it was good outside and the horse walked in a quiet trod.

Continued >>here<<

[Eamila Bolger]

'I think that we are good for now', Hilda replied to Guthbrand's question. She had a feeling that somehow Luthor wouldn't need being held down. There was something about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she had the idea he was capable of enduring a lot. 'I have some liquor in my basket here', she continued. After washing her hands again, she took the bottle and poured some of it in a mug that she found on the table.
'This should at least help a bit', she said. Then she addressed Guthbrand again.
'If you could ask for a clean bowl of warm water, that would be nice. This one can be thrown out for now.'

After she gave Luthor the drink, she started her work on the arm.
'Would you like us to send out word to Gondor to your wife about your situation and the possible delay in your search?', she asked. 'Or do you perhaps not want to worry her?'

(@Rillewen A short post to keep things going, I was wondering whether you want this part (the cleaning of and caring for the wounds) to be described, or just continue by saying all is done pretty soon?)

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

He did not really like the thought of being held down, so he was glad when the healer said it wouldn't be necessary. Luthor didn't really know what the drink was that she poured into a mug, but for this occasion, he didn't really care. He drank the contents of the mug, bracing himself for the pain that he knew would come from the healer's efforts.

As she got started cleaning the wound, Luthor had to just keep thinking over and over, 'be nice, be nice, be nice...' His free hand gripped the arm of the chair as well as he could, partly to make sure that he kept himself from lashing out. It was indeed a test of his self-control. He usually did not have to restrain himself this much, especially not while undergoing a painful ordeal. But, he managed, with minimal reaction. For him. He grit his teeth, and noises of pain escaped despite all his efforts. He was used to doling out pain to others, not receiving it to himself. But he did not lash out and strike her, nor did he utter curses, or anything else. His face was beaded with sweat by the time the healer had finished cleansing the infected wounds, but he had somehow made himself behave nice and proper, just like his brother would have done.

He was breathing a little shakily from the effort of holding back, but he made himself focus on something else. The healer's question, for starters. He took a moment to think about that, and to think about how difficult it might be to manage such a letter to someone that he did want to get a message to, but he thought it might be difficult to make that work, without being able to write very well. "I'm not sure," Luthor admitted, honestly. He would need to give that some thought, and would come back to it when he was thinking a bit more clearly. "I'll think on it. Thank you."

He stared toward the window while the healer worked on his arm, as he realized very quickly after the bandage had come off, that he did not want to see his arm in that condition. While watching the window, he was a little intrigued to see the elf woman riding off with that elf guy who had been there, last night. "Is the halfling woman going on a journey, or has the elf there decided to steal her?" He asked with a half-joking manner, although also with curiosity in his tone. An elf, taking a hobbit off into the wild? Strange indeed. Almost suspicious, one might even say. Except, of course, these people probably viewed the elves in some revered, awed manner. Many of his own people had the same opinions, but he didn't comment on his own thoughts regarding that matter.

"Or is it even the same one I met last night?" He added with more confusion, as he hadn't really had a good look at either of them as they passed in the distance, on horseback. "Are there a lot of halflings around these parts? I've never seen one, even in Gondor." He mentioned. Of course, if it sounded a bit like he was rambling, it could easily be attributed to the liquor he'd consumed earlier, taking affect.

---

Another horse rode up to the inn, not long after the other rode away. Amy and Wildfire approached from the other direction, however, and therefore did not pass the window of the room where Luthor was staying. She stopped her black and white paint horse just in front of the stable, and dismounted. Glancing around for a moment, she patted his shoulder lightly before tying his reins loosely to a post at the front of the building. "You just wait here for a moment. I'll be back soon." She promised him, scratching him under the chin as he liked.

The last village she'd been in had certainly been different, and she had not expected to encounter a sickness there, but she was glad she had been able to help the people, at least as well as she could. After leaving there, she had stayed out in the prairie for a couple of weeks, separated from any people, to make sure that she didn't bring any lingering traces of the sickness with her wherever she went. Now, she was returning, in need of supplies and to be honest, a little socialization.

Leaving Wildfire there in front of the inn, Amy stepped inside and glanced around, blinking from the change in lighting, transitioning from outside to in. Then she started toward the bar counter, figuring that would be the quickest way to find whoever was in charge here so she could make inquiries about a room and a meal, and the same for Wildfire.

[Drífa]

Alf & Duf

It took some time, but the two dwarves, having departed Khazad-dûm when the snow was still deep, finally arrived at Meduseld in Rohan and the Inn that Drífa instructed them to find. The cart and the two ponies that made the journey with them needed some attention (repairs and a roof over the creatures' heads), but neither was too badly off for all that the group had been through. Such adventures as they had would take an ale or two to recount. Alf and Duf were not the most vocal of dwarves, keeping mostly to themselves. But like most, a few drinks, good company and cheer usually loosen the tongue. For now, determined to find the Pubmistress of the Ealniwe Inn and settle into their lodgings, Alf and Duf, young dwarves still (being only two years away from turning 40), looked forward to some challenging tasks that did not involve solely trying to stay warm and struggling with their flint and tinder.

They left the ponies and cart tethered and entered the Inn. Blinking in unison, they looked about them, hoping that someone would notice them before too long.

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

He inclined his head in a respectful nod to Hilda and left without further word. The man didn't seem in a condition to make any trouble for the healer, intended or not. He detoured to the taproom to speak a few words to Eldrith, then he went on into the kitchen and asked Cnith for a bowl of fresh warm water for Hilda. The man WAS clearly wounded and the wounds were older than last night...




Eldrith nodded to the Feldmarshal. Their guest was in good and reliable hands, and if she still had her worries about the man, she would for now, leave him in Hilda's hands. Apparently he would not be up to any troublemaking soon, whether he wanted to or not. Just as Guthbrand moved back to the kitchen, she noticed someone else coming in and moved towards the counter. Another traveler. Not surprising of course, early spring opened the passages each year, when snow and rain made the journey harder during winter.

"Welcome to the Aeldsell Inn" she offered the woman, while looking around to make certain everything was well in her domain. "How can we help you today?"
She had barely finished the words when the door opened again and brought in two dwarves. Two dwarves. TWO DWARVES, oh now this, this finally was good news, she hoped. If Cnith would get his new set up in the kitchen things would be going so much more smoothly.

"And welcome to you both as well." She addressed the dwarves that were looking around. Of course they might feel something of the 'atmosphere' in the pub. There always was some talk, but right now it seemed everyone was talking about something in a most determined whisper except for the pubmisstress.
"I am Eldrith, what can I do for you?" And oh, she hoped they were who she hoped they were. They had improvised ever since the fires, adding a little bit at a time until they had a fully functioning inn again, but right now they kitchens desperately needed to be caught up.

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Amy offered a small smile to the lady who welcomed her. "Hello," She greeted her in return, then glanced back toward the door when it opened. To the young woman's amazement, two dwarves entered. She had never seen any before, but she was careful not to look too long, so she wouldn't appear to be staring. She turned back to the innkeeper lady, instead.

"I'd like a room, please, and a stall for my horse. He's outside. And, we'd both like a meal please." She requested. "Also.. I wondered if I could ask a few questions. But it can wait."

[Eamila Bolger]

Hilda worked concentrated on cleaning the wound. Her patient kept himself admirably calm, although she noticed that it took him a lot of energy to restrain himself. She tried to work quickly and thoroughly.
For a moment though, she was distracted by Luthor's question.

Eamila? On the road with the elf who arrived here yesterday?
A small smile appeared on her face as she looked out of the window, seeing only the back of the horse as it left.
‘Knowing our hobbit friend, she won't just let herself be taken against her will. So, I suspect that this is an agreed trip. It is strange though. I don't remember her planning to go on a journey. Rohan is her home now. And at the same time... she remains a Hobbit, and one with adventurous blood. Who knows where they are headed.’
Returning to her task, she muttered: ‘I will ask her to inform me next time she plans to travel. I like to supplement my stock of herbs with plants from outside our own area.’

After the wound was completely cleaned, the healer carefully placed a compress of plantain, marigold and honey on it. She applied a loose bandage over the arm.
‘These herbs are good against inflammation, prevent infection and ensure speedy healing of the wound,’ she informed Luthor. 'It is important to let them do their work without haste. In addition, I will ask my sister Getale to make tea from these herbs.’
She nodded to her basket, which contained several bags of fragrant herbs.

‘In any case, rest is very important, for your whole body. Especially now that the inflammation is causing imbalance. I can imagine that you want to travel further as soon as possible, but I would advise you to rest as long as possible, eat and drink well and only get back on the road when you have recovered sufficiently. And what sufficient is, in this case...’
She shrugged. ‘That remains to be seen. Well, I’m done on this side. As soon as Guthbrand is back with clean water, I will start on the other arm. How’s the pain? Is that liquor doing its job?’

@Rillewen @Eldrith

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Utchuk the wanderer

He had made it so far without any form of suspicion. That was good. It allowed him to see things of life otherwise was not possible. He had eaten everything that had been offered, the plate was empty, the fork and knife precisely placed on it they could not fall off when being picked up. His grey eyes had seen many things. He hoped that the kitchen had something bulky for the road. He had left his home at a moment there were no maidens to unite with, form a bond. So he had chosen adventures, many years ago. He had left the icedragons behind, vicious creatures that had no eye for their food, anything was good. The mortals in his land had ice in their veins, not blood. They were rugged people, a hundred times worse than the folks in this place. In his land roamed also wizard around who spoke a tongue he never had been able to decipher and he had since a few years a little one. He wore the same pelts the humans used to keep themselves warm. A young woman came in (Amy) who went for the bar and inquired something there. A pair of dwarves followed. It was always difficult to tell if they were male or female. But female dwarves stood out by their finer features and the care they put in their hair and beards. If you knew where to look for the differences, you knew. Utchuk was a soon leaving guest. But he waited quietly for the waitress (Eldrith) until she had brought the bill. The golden coins could be too much. He observed slight what happened around, but not to a degree that others took notice.

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith @Eamila Bolger

Luthor

It helped somewhat, to distract himself with something besides the pain from his wounds. So Luthor took a moment to think about what little he did know, or had heard, about hobbits. And then continued to inquire, "I thought that halflings did not like adventures," He frowned as he tried to recall where he had heard something like that. "Except, of course, those ones who.. are hailed as heroes in my land." He concluded. "But I had always been led to believe that they were an exception."

He watched while she added a poultice to his wound, and began to wrap it in a fresh bandage. "Where do those folk come from, anyway?" He wondered. "Is it far from Rohan? You say that this is her home now, so I wondered if there are others like her, here? Or did she travel very far to get here?" He paused, and nodded when she suggested that he rest after this. Then she asked if the liquor was doing its job. "About as much as it can, I suppose. It hurts." He answered, honestly. "Asking questions helps to distract myself from that," He added with a weak smile. "And I am curious about.. hobbits?" He asked, as if trying out the word, "In my land they are.. well, sort of revered I guess you might say. And yet, I have never seen one before yesterday." He explained. "I don't know anything about where they come from or how they live, but tales in Gondor speak of these people most highly. I wonder how much of it is exaggerated, though."

[Eldrith]

Guthbrand

*He knocked on the door before entering again, using his elbow as his hands held a half filled basin with warm water, and a clean towel had been draped over his arm by Cnith, with a certain amount of amusement. From Feld Marshall to errand boy it seemed. Then again, all of them had learned to do what the healers told them to do. After battle it was usually a matter of life and death and somehow it carried over in daily life. In a strange sort of dance, after knocking he opened the door with his knee, and entered offering the bowl back to Hilda. You were asking a lot of questions. To distract fromt he pain as you said or...*


Eldrith in the meanwhile was almost in her element, thought that feeling of strangeness had not left. She pushed it away, or to the back of her mind, while she did what was her life now: serving people, welcoming them.. Lots of people entering, lots of people ordering. Some of the earlier patrons had paid and left, no doubt to go talk with neighbors and friends about the horrible news.

"And all of those will be gladly provided." She offered Amy. "The stables are behind the inn, and there will be feed as well for any traveler's horse as well as brushes if you don''t have your own with you." She was.. friendly, but there was something within the way you spoke that made her create a distance mentally despite the friendliness. Gondorian. Really? Was there an invasion that no one had bothered to tell her about? "if you want I can have a lad take care of your horse unless you want to do it yourself. I'll have a meal ready for you soon enough and there's three rooms still free so you are in luck!" Her voice was hearty and easy and hospitable, despite herself. Not the first and not the last Gondorians to come through the inn in all these years. And you were young. That spoke to your advantage.

She smiled over at Utchuck, and after excusing herself from the new arrival headed to the table to remove the last of the dishes. "I hope you enjoyed the meal and your time here. Do you need a room for the night? Frogive me if you already said.. it's been a busy day."
A busy day that had started with murder. Not something they were used to.

@Eamila Bolger @Rillewen @Aikári Salmarinian

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

"Thank you." Amy smiled in relief when she was given the option of tending to her horse, herself, or letting the stableboy handle it. She would go, herself. She preferred to personally take care of her beloved horse, even though she didn't doubt that a stableboy in Rohan of all places, would surely know how to care for a horse well. But he didn't know Wildfire like Amy knew him. And they had a bond that no other person can have with their horse.

"I will take a room, and I think I'll tend to my horse while I'm waiting for the food." She decided. "However, I would also like to ask.. and you might be the best person to tell me this.. is there by any chance any work available in these parts, for a partially-trained healer?" She asked hopefully. "I do have money for the room and all," She hastened to add, "I just hoped to take a job, temporarily, until I figure out where I'm going from here. Also, I like to keep my knowledge sharp, and add more, whenever I can." She explained.