Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza

Elarith on a hot cobbled street

Elarith's eyes widened as Taeth said about cellar supports burning through. She hadn't even considered that danger. Swinging an empty bucket, she stepped hastily back until the cobbles were cooler underfoot. She was too far away to hurl water on the pub to any effect, and now she was further from the inferno, she used the moment to take a few deep breaths of slightly cooler air.

For all that she'd been to the Æthelmund many ,many, many times, Elarith had no idea where the barrels were rolled in from to the cellars. They could've been zapped in by a wizard for all she knew. It was likelier that there was a trapdoor somewhere nearby. She set off to search, skirting the edge of the cooler areas, though she wasn't entirely certain what she was looking for.

There was also a very faint thought, a sliver of memory that she couldn't shift. She didn't want to say it aloud to Taeth or anyone else, as she wasn't sure if she'd imagined this outright, or it had perhaps been a joke back in the day, that maybe - and Béma, how awful now would it be - the Æthelmund's cellars went all the way to the Dragon Room...

Amethyst Copperpick with a snazzy bandage

Amethyst smiled and gently squeezed Grimthain's hand with her own. She'd been hugged earlier, now she was holding hands with a stranger. What was Rohan doing to her? It wasn't entirely due to the head wound.

She cautiously touched the bandage round her head, wondering if she could fit a hat or something over it later to disguise it if she had to have a white one. Her companion had a sensible explanation as to why white was probably the colour of choice. "Ah, good thinking, Mr Grimthain. And I hadn't seen the seamstress' shop at the market yet. If she is as good as you say then it will be a pleasure to visit," the dwarf said.

When Grimthain spoke of the other fires, Amethyst lowered her voice too, though it was hard given her incredulity. "Two other fires?" she hissed, startling Krystalle again. "Who would be so reckless or intent on harm to do that? Even worse given how dry everything's been lately," she said, looking round again, as if the culprit might be hiding amongst them even now. When she realised that it was unlikely that anyone was about to pop up with a tinderbox and confess, she settled down again to answer the soldier's other questions.

"No, I came here with some other traders bound for Minas Tirith. They only stayed a night before moving on. I thought I'd take the opportunity to look around Edoras, maybe catch them up later. So no - there's only me and Krystalle," she said, smiling at the grey cat. Some people would've found it lonely, but she enjoyed the solitude. "What of you? Do you have family to check upon?" she asked, concerned.

Amhran nodded. "Yes, Beda. My father and mother, and both my brothers and my sister. It was before the War of the Ring, you see, when the orcs of Isengard still ravaged the Westfold. I was away when they attacked my home, or I would have been slain as well." She gave a little half-smile at her companion. "That's why I joined the Cavalry when I came of age - to get my revenge on the orcs. And I got it. But that's another, and a very long, story." She looked up as the city gates rose up before them. "Now, speaking of the Cavalry, the only significant feature outside the walls is the training grounds. Is there any reason your siblings would go there? Or is there somewhere else you can think of to look?"

Thus far Amhran. And what, meanwhile, of Athelstan? He is significantly hampered by the loss of his wagon. Indeed, he is not certain how he will transport his family home when all is said and done. But he will figure that out later. He still has his horses, and he now turns his gaze upon the burning roof of the Dragon Room and the figures toiling to put out the blaze. Now, Athelstan is a man who thinks and works on a grand scale and paints with a broad brush. His general philosophy is that if your first attempt at something didn't work, you require a bigger hammer. He has a large farm, large horses, large shoulders, large boots, a large family, and... well, okay, his wife is on the petite side, but she makes up for it with large tasty meals and a big personality. None of this, of course, enters his head at all; we merely attempt a partial character sketch, which may help explain his subsequent actions on beholding the Dragon Room roof. For as he looks up at Wamba, Shadowfox, Calimir, and others, he snorts softly and mutters "buckets, forsooth," and casts his gaze abroad upon the rubble about him. His eye lands on a collection of barrels, seemingly in good condition, and in the remains of his wagon is a coil of now waterlogged rope. He cuts the rope into lengths, ties an end of each around the mouth of each barrel like a bail, and loops them over his horses' backs like kettledrums. There is a well near the Dragon Room whence the firefighters are getting their water. He drives his horses up to this well and begins filling the barrels with water. This job complete, he sidles his horses up to the wall of the building, inflates his lungs to their fullest, and bellows up to the firefighters on the roof, "Hey, lower a rope, there! Let's douse this thing once and for all!"
He ties the end of a dangling rope lift to one of the rope bails on a barrel and gives it a tug to let them know it's ready to haul up. As he lowers his gaze it lands on a woman, whom he recognizes as the one who was so helpful with the wet blanket down in the lower town. She's still at it, in fact. His attention might have wandered back to the job at hand if it hasn't been arrested by a hacking, wrenching cough from the woman. His brow furrows. That doesn't sound good. Why isn't she in the Infirmary?

He doesn't speak to her, though, because his concentration is drawn away by a series of shouts from the roof, and by one of his horses becoming restive and threatening to dump its precious load.

((OOC: @Eléowyn @Thalionwen Hunigfolm Sounds good. Thanks for letting Amh charge in; she is quite worried about Beda.))

Wandering around toward and outside the city walls (NPC Beda

For a few moments Beda forgot her own troubles as she listened to Amhran's tale. "That must have been very scary," she said. "And very sad. You must be very brave. Did you kill orcs? Were they as frightfully ugly as the tales I have heard?"

They had reached the gates now, and Beda was surprised to see that there had been fire outside the walls as well as within. It looked as if it had been contained mainly to the party tent, which was now destroyed. Surely Almod would not have taken the children there, she prayed.

In response to Amhran's question as to why they would have gone beyond the city walls, Beda shrugged and answered, "I do not know why they would leave the city but I am told they were seen here. But it was a dwarf who told me. Do you think dwarves are trustworthy? I have never met one, though I did get a glimpse of a lady dwarf during the festival."

Beda paused for a moment, then picked something off the ground. "Here, see this," she said, excited now. It was a piece of cloth, twisted and tied into knots. "This belongs to Léohere. He is growing teeth, and is very fussy. Mam says sucking on it makes his gums feel better. He must have dropped it! He will be giving Almod quite a fit now without it!"

@Amhran

Her patient stirred, and it was enough to draw her thoughts out from the introspective melancholy and back to the challenges of the present. As Nymlac rolled over, rubbing his eyes and asked a question of her, she could only cluck her tongue in disapproval of him before she glanced about at the other people moving around in the tent. She reached to snatch at the leg of a passer by who had only time to pause and hesitate and make a halfhearted attempt at an objection before she fixed them with a cold stare that quickly smothered any words they had been about to say, quickly ceding their half-filled water-skin to her before dashing away again on their tasks.

She opened the stopper to sniff, confirmed that it was inoffensive water, and then passed the skin to Nymlac without comment. Then winced a little as the pain in her left arm seemed to refresh at the moment; she pulled the willow bark out of her mouth and considered it, trying to find a patch that might hold some remnants of its painkilling properties, before placing it back in her mouth to chew once more and trying to shift herself into a more comfortable position now she did not need to keep such a vigilant watch over her patient. He seemed awake enough; if he threw up now he would less likely suffocate himself and more likely just make an unpleasant mess.

---

"I must confess I have not visited her store myself, having only recently moved to the city, but I have heard many great things about her skills." He suddenly found himself desperately hoping that the owner of Awesnis gærwe nædleprica was indeed as skilled as he had let this woman believe; he would hate to disappoint her in that regard after everything else. "I have... there is a young man in the city who means a great deal to me, as like to a son as I am ever likely to have. He is a trainee in the cavalry, and I fear he may have been caught in either the After-Party tent fire or in the conflagration that has lit up the skies near the cavalry courtyard." He swallowed hard, trying not to catastrophise about what he would do if Éomund had come to harm. "With all the drama of what has been happening I cannot hope to find him until after all the fires are out, indeed it would be selfish of me to try doing so when my services are put to better use elsewhere. He is a capable lad, he will be fine I am sure." he concluded with faux confidence, willing himself to believe it. Then he realised something as he glanced again across at the covered body and added with cold grimness "And if he is not, then I am perfectly positioned to discover his fate at the earliest possibility."

He took a deep breath, and looked back to Amethyst with a fresh smile and renewed sparkle in his eye. "Listen to me, grown all droll with such melancholy thoughts in the presence of such a delightful woman. Forgive me, lady Copperpick. How are you feeling now, did the chamomile tea help? If Thali makes it half as well as Amadrhill you may find yourself addicted like me. Maybe if you are feeling well enough, I could see if I can find something for Krystalle, to help settle her nerves, or find somewhere quieter for you both to settle and get some proper rest?"

---

“Hoy, you, up it comes!” The cry was a boon to Shadowfox's ears, momentarily alone with the fire on the rooftop far above the milling bodies below. They laid off their futile smacking with their utterly destroyed slippers, tossing them aside further onto the roof away from the growing conflagration, and turned toward the rope. Before they could move, they jumped in surprise as a bearded face appeared over the top of the ladder, and their expression became one of sincere relief at Malachite's query. "Please, you are stronger than I; man the rope, help hoist the buckets up and then untie them to pass them to me." They shifted their feet beneath them, curling toes over the edging of the lip and pressing bare feet against wood to find greater purchase, before rising to stand precariously on the edge with all the confident poise of a circus acrobat. "I'll make sure the water goes where it is needed."

For a while the team worked together; Wamba's men loading and hoisting the rope, Calimar's group manning the ladder, Malachite's strong muscles and quick hands ensuring effective delivery of each loaded bucket and Shadowfox's nimble skipping and hopping almost recklessly about on the rooftop to deposit the buckets over the fire. It was helping, but it was growing increasingly clear to those on the roof itself that the water still wasn't arriving quickly enough. And then the rope grew extra taught, as Athelstan's payload of barrels began to make its rise. The straining, groaning effort of rope and people made Shadowfox step to the edge, toes curling over the precipice as they gazed down with dizzying disregard for the drop to eye what was being delivered. Their eyes lit up! Yes, that just might do it, but they would need to break the barrels open quickly on arrival to make the inundation of water most effective. "Fetch an axe, we need axes!" They shouted down, unaware that Malachite likely already had one hanging about his belt.

But their lack of observation of Malachite's apparel was fortuitous for the dwarf. His thought-lost family heirloom left in his room at the Horse and Rider Inn had been extracted by one of the citizen's from the wreckage of the inn when its upper floor had collapsed. From there, it had been carried to the Residential District to be offered in aid of the dismantling efforts, and finding its way into the hands of one of Calimir's team-workers, it had them been carried deeper into the city when his forces came to aid the efforts against the Campian arena fire. When those flames were defeated and Wamba commanded more to aid in the Dragon Room efforts, it was lucky that one of those Wamba had commanded to step aside as the second reserve team contained the young woman who was currently carrying the axe. Thus, when Shadowfox's cry went out for a=such a weapon, she was able to swiftly rush forwards and send the Copperstick family heirloom hastily up the ladder to land itself in the young rohir performers hands.

Shadowfox considered the slightly scorched but still sound and finely wrought axe, and for a moment felt like they were merely a player in a scene written in the sagas; this was a dwarf-warrior's weapon, and it should be wielded by such a person. Even as the barrels finally reached the rooftop and their companion had lined up in such a place that a swift blow across their tops would erupt their contents across the smouldering roof and eradicate the foothold the fires had attempted to take there. From their vaulted position they could see that it appeared most of the fires in the city had now been defeated or were on the brink of being subdued. Thus, Shadowfox stepped up to Malachite and reverently presented the axe, before stepping aside out of his way with a slight flourish."The final water-strike and victory await you, master dwarf!"

OOC @Aodh Hammerhelm (Malachite breaking open the barrels on the rooftop will smother all the remaining fires there, but it seemed fitting for the dwarven hero to be able to use the moment to celebrate that against all odds he had been reunited with his beloved axe.)

Wandering Around Toward and Outside the City Walls

Amhran had almost laughed. "I certainly did kill orcs; and yes, Beda, they are every bit as hideous as people say. Remind me to tell you someday about the time they took me captive, and my blood-brother came to rescue me and we fought our way out. But here we are..." They paused outside the walls. Answering her question about the dwarf, "I don't actually know... to tell you the truth, I haven't much experience with dwarves either. But I have heard they are a wise folk, so I see no reason to doubt him." She furrowed her brows. "I guess I didn't frame my question very well; what I meant was, Do you think your siblings would head for the Cavalry training grounds, or were you in the habit of visiting someplace out here where they might have gone?" She sighed. "Pity I was never trained as a paethfindian. What's that?" Beda held up the knotted cloth with her explanation. It would have been soaked in chamomile; Amhran knew that remedy well. "You might make a good paethfindian yourself. Well, maybe we should hope he is pitching a fit, because that will make them easier to find."

@Eléowyn

Rules:-

1) This is an IC thread, ideally role-play posts should be 200 characters or more
2) No godmodding without express prior permission from the relevant player
3) This thread is open to any kingdom, and from the Final Update onwards will be open, free RP without any further TR updates or interventions.
4) No more fires, please! (At least for now)
5) If you wish to roleplay a particular story without being interrupted or others joining in, please mark your post as 'private RP' or 'Invite only'
6) During any investigative actions or clean-up process, please remember the previous rule 6, that absolutely no animals were harmed in this fire, and please refrain from any graphic depictions of people being who were hurt or lost in the flames. The Rohir responded extremely quickly and many of the places that were set alight were evacuated swiftly. So far there is only one confirmed casualty; Gléonild, Beda's mother. If people wish for other characters to have been lost in the fire then that is their choice, however as previously specified no children, horses or animals of any kind were harmed or killed in the fires.
7) Locations of extinguished fires have been listed below and colour-co-ordinated to help differentiate locations but you need not honour these in your posts if you do not want to.

Outside the City Walls (NPC Beda)

Beda’s eyes grew wide. “You were captured by orcs?” she asked. “And escaped?” Her admiration for Amhran grew even more. She became thoughtful for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice, “Did it make you feel better to kill orcs? You know, because they killed your family?”

They walked on a bit farther, scanning those gathered near the now-destroyed party tent for any sign of the children. “No, miss” she replied to Amhran’s question, “there is nowhere out here they would know to go. We never go outside the walls, at least not since Papa died, almost three years ago. The wee ones go almost nowhere at all. Mam stays home with them all day while I sell candles at the shop. She makes the candles, you see, sometimes during the day but sometimes she is too busy with the little ones so she has to work at night.”

“She has been so sad since Papa died, but more so after the birth of Léohere. He’s the baby, he’s eight months old.” Beda made sure her gaze did not meet Amhran’s. “Mam almost never leaves the house, except once in a while she will ask me to stay home with the bairns, and she goes to the market. She puts on a clean dress and apron and almost always comes home looking a little less sad.”

“Those evenings she brushes her hair and makes it look real pretty, like she used to look when Papa was alive. And she goes out again acting happy. But when she comes home, when she thinks we are all asleep, I hear her crying. And the next day she will give me a few coins to buy us all a sweet.”

Beda did not know why she had told the woman so much; she feared now Amhran would think Mam was a bad person. Lifting her chin proudly and with eyes flashing a challenge, she said firmly, “I am not stupid, you know. People think I am but a silly, chatty girl, and I suppose I am. But I know what goes on, I know how babies come to be. But Mam loved us, and she was the best mam she knew how to be.”

The torrent of tears that was about to erupt was stemmed by a sudden torrent of rain. Beda and her companion had been wandering about as they talked, searching for any sign of the children. There had been none, other than the teething cloth found earlier.

“I think they must have gone back through the gates,” Beda shouted over the thunderous pounding of the downpour. “They must be very sleepy by now, and Almod may have gone in search of Sheemie. At least I hope so. Or they have likely taken shelter with a neighbor.” A sudden realization hit her. “Sheemie! Someone needs to tell Sheemie about Mam! And I need to get to the Infirmary. The hæland would not let me see Mam yet, but she should be ready now. I have to go. Almod and the others may even be there! I cannot thank you enough for all your kindness. I hope we meet again!”

Beda did not wait for a response. It had felt good to unburden her heart to her kind companion, but now she was embarrassed. And she needed to see her mother, alone. She ran off toward the Infirmary, following the directions given to her by Thalionwen.


@Amhran (OOC: Feel free to continue the search if you like, or if you prefer, you could go seek out Sheemie, or neither. If you decide to continue the search, you might find, in the direction of the river, a small homemade doll that fell out of Saewyn’s pocket.)

Outside the City Walls

Amhran briefly considered following Beda at least back to the Infirmary tent, but then thought better of it. Beda wasn't charging off willy-nilly this time; she knew where she was headed and would be taken care of there. And her desire for solitude was understandable.

In truth, she was not sorry to be spared from having to answer the question about killing orcs, because to be honest, that was a good question, and one she had never really thought about. Had it made her feel better? She could not regret avenging her family, but did she feel better? These were comparatively small matters, though, for introspection and examination at another time - Beda's story drove out all other concerns. Amhran did not think less of Mam; no, her disgust was directed more toward the circumstances that had reduced her to use such measures just to provide for her family.

The rain was coming down loud and hard, and she was so lost in thought as she wandered aimlessly, keeping an abstracted eye out for Beda's siblings, that she didn't hear hoofbeats, and when a hand was placed on her shoulder she jumped. She turned and saw her husband, with both horses in tow. "Athelstan!" she cried out in relief.

He grinned down at her, water dripping from his nose and beard. "All the fires are out. I asked at the Infirmary and they said you were outside the city walls with Beda." He looked around, squinting through the sheeting rain. "Where is she?"

"Gone back to the Infirmary. She wanted to be alone with her mother for a while. I can respect that." He nodded, and she told him briefly what Beda had told her, about her family background and the indigence that had driven her mother to measures that no woman should have to use, finishing up indignantly, "It's a howling injustice, that's what it is, why didn't anyone know or care about this poor family? Why couldn't someone have told the king? Isn't there any provision for widows and orphans in Rohan?"

Athelstan's face was grim. "There's supposed to be. In our village there would of course be a collection taken and the elders would see to it that a widow was provided for, perhaps even help her find a new husband. But I imagine in a city this size it's easy for one poor woman and her children to get lost in the crowds. I don't know what we can do for them now, but I will look into it."

"We at least have to find the other children and make sure they are all safe. The haelend said they had space and..."

"About that." Athelstan looked uncomfortable. He knew his wife; that any danger to children drove her nearly frantic, especially since the loss of two of her own babies. In her mind, no parent should have to outlive their child, nor should any child be without someone who loved them. She wanted to save all of them. "You know we can't stay much longer, even if Beda's brothers and sisters aren't found yet. My father's friend can't watch our children for long, and they need you even more than Beda does."

"But they're safe, and Beda isn't. Doesn't that take priority?"

"Amhran, my dear, you weren't the only one looking out for her, you know. There was Haelend Thalionwen, and that dwarf, and Lady Bereth, and once word gets around I can almost guarantee you the entire town and the Cavalry will be keeping an eye on her and looking out for her siblings. You do have your duties at home, and so do I, and leaving Beda here with the haelends isn't abandoning her to the wolves. You aren't responsible for any of this, and what responsibility you did take, out of the goodness of your heart, you have discharged well and can now hand it off to others who can actually do a better job than you."

Amhran writhed internally but had to admit he was right. She took a couple deep, shaky breaths, and her husband held her close for a moment. "All right now?" he asked. She nodded against his chest and he released her and helped her up onto Landan's rain-soaked back. "We'll head back up the river to pick up the children, and beg the use of one of Father's friend's carts to get the children home. Our cart is a total loss, I'm afraid."

"But it's harvest time. Can he spare one?"

"Yes, he's a horse breeder and raises no crops, so he doesn't use it much. I'll return it to him as soon as we can get Baldric the Wainwright to make us a new one."

"Oh, I see. So what happened to the cart?"

He told the story of the heroic fate of the cart, and from there of his adventures with the barrels and the Dragon Room roof, and she laughed and was proud of him. But her smile suddenly faded as they approached the river and she saw, as she passed, something in the grass. Reining Landan in, she jumped down and retrieved it. It was a child's doll. "Athelstan... the children. Beda's siblings. At least one of them came this way."

And as Bema was their witness, they didn't know what to do.

((OOC:@Eléowyn I don't know what your plan is for Beda's siblings, so I've kinda left it open-ended here and will follow your lead. Or you can send my folks on their merry way, if that's how the plot goes.))

Finally the pub fire was out, and while there was a good bit of collapsed ground that would have to be dealt with, Taeth's strength was quickly waning and there were still other things she had to tend to. She'd lost sight of Elarith in the crowd now swarming through to the Cavalry grounds. She issued a few more orders to nearby 'wigends, instructing them to put up barriers so no one fell into the collapsed tunnel, and making sure that the remaining smoldering embers would stay under control.

Then Taeth looked around, checking to make sure everything else nearby that had caught on fire was under control, and sighed with relief when it became apparent that they all were. She slipped out of the crowd herself, returning to the brush where she'd hidden her bow and quiver earlier. Both were there, safe and un-burnt, and she tucked the bow inside its slot in the quiver, and then strapped the case to her back again.

When she returned to the street, Taeth heard talk of an infirmary that had been set up, but also concerning rumors of another fire at the inn. She caught sight of Gwai, a 'wigend attempting to usher her away from the Courtyard, and the other pæth was clearly resisting, despite having to stop and cough every few steps. Taeth stepped over, pulling out her own pæthfindian insignia to show the 'wigend, and asked, "What's going on?"

"I'm supposed to be escorting her to the hælend," the 'wigend answered. "Someone's set up an infirmary between Meduseld and the Riddermarket, and I'm trying to take her there."

"Ah," Taeth stated, understanding Gwai's reluctance, but seeing the other woman clearly needed to have her throat and maybe even her lungs checked, felt it would be wise for a visit to the hælend. "I'll take her, 'wigend. You go back to your duties."

"Come now," Taeth laid a gentle hand on Gwai's arm. "Let's go. With all luck, it'll be Thalionwen there, and she'll almost certainly have something to soothe your throat--don't try to talk, and don't refuse. I'll pull rank on you as a former Marshal if I have to."

Pulling rank would probably do little good in this situation, but at least it seemed to convince Gwai to comply, and the two women walked side by side, past the burnt out Campian and Æthelmund, then through the dark but crowded Riddermarket streets, until at least the came to the clearing between it and Meduseld.


Thali's Pop-up Infirmary

The two women step inside the tent just as the skies opened with a long roll of thunder, and Taeth flinched, startled by the sudden din. She shook it off, though, and directed Gwai to an empty cot, looking around for Thalionwen. When she found her, Taeth waited until it seemed she was between patients.

She caught her friend's attention, and felt a pang in her heart as she noticed a quiet, silent grief hiding behind the hælend's eyes, then noticed a sheet-covered form tucked away further in the tent. Oh Thali... she thought, but didn't dare speak it. She didn't want to break her friend's composure.

"I've brought Gwai," Taeth stated simply. "She's coughing something awful and can barely seem to stop. I'm all right though, just tired."

She hesitated just a moment, and then asked, "And Frost? You have him somewhere safe?"

Thali answered then, though it was hard to catch what she said as the hælend motioned for Taeth to follow as she continued her rounds, and the rain pounding on the tent was quite loud. Thali pointed in one direction, said something about a new infirmary, and that Frost was in the north shed there. Taeth couldn't help but gape for a moment, as it sank in that Thali had said she was running a new infirmary, and Taeth could have sworn that just a few days ago Thali said she was leaving Rohan. But no matter, for now. Thali had already gone back to her patients, and now that Taeth knew where Frost was, she was finished here.

With a final glance over at Gwai--who seemed to have curled up to try and rest, despite the coughing--as she waited, Taethowen stepped out into the rain. She needed rest, but she knew she wouldn't be able to until she checked on him.

(Minor godmodding with permission from @Gwai. @Thalionwen Hunigfolm, my apologies for brushing over our interaction here. I based it on what we'd already done in the Infirmary though. I just need to make a quick exit from this thread for my sanity. )

Nymlac, Infirmary
Mother Mute may have only clucked her tongue at him, but he still got the point. He was about to give her a snappy response when she handed him a water skin, from which he took a generous chug. Ah, that was much better...

The woman seemed to communicate with hand gestures and non-verbal cues. He couldn't believe his luck! Of all the people to wake up to, here was someone who apparently could not verbally berate him. "What a night, eh?" he asked her. "Did you see those fires? Reckon they've been put out yet?" He sat up, rubbing his head and thinking longingly of his bed at home. Passing out on the ground was all well and good but it was nothing compared to a nice pillow and blanket.

Lailyn, arriving at Infirmary
Lailyn had appreciated Calimir's offer to leave four of his helpers with her, but she'd been too keen to find her cousin to take much notice. Unable to find him in the streets, she trudged up toward the Infirmary in the rain to see if there was any way she could help.

By the time she arrived, she was soaked and cold and feeling altogether quite tired. She thought she saw Taethowen pass her on her way out, and she was glad to see she was safe but now was not the time for idle chatter. She took in the scene in the tent, including the blanket overlying a body and knew the work was only just beginning.

But when she saw her cousin, she rushed forward and peeled the cloth from her face. "Nym!" she said with relief. "I'm so glad I found you."

"Oh, Lail! Where've you been?" he asked in quite an inappropriately cheerful voice.

Her lips thinned. "Fighting fires. And you've been here all this time?" Before he could reply, she turned to Mother Mute. "Have you been watching over him?" she asked with a furrowed brow. "You are too kind. Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe some more willowbark?"

Dragon Room —> Pop Up Infirmary

“I’m fine,” Gwai tried to protest to Shadowfox, although she was having trouble getting out the words. Wamba soon came over, and in the nicest possible way sent her on her way to the infirmary. Gwai smiled and nodded, but as soon as the wigend came over, she resisted. She was not about to go to the infirmary when there was work to be done, smoke inhalation or not.

Thanks to the heroic efforts of quite a few, the fire finally was suppressed. Gwai tried to argue with the wigend, who didn’t seem to understand her as she was coughing after every other word.

The wigend looked confused, and Gwai didn’t blame him, and she felt she had just about convinced him to let her leave, when Taeth walked up, smudged with soot, but appearing uninjured. Gwai sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable. She might be able to scare off the wigend, but she would have no chance with Taeth, who even threatened to pull rank.

“If Thali tries to make me drink something disgusting I’m…,” she stopped, interrupted by a coughing fit, which was just as well as she didn’t know what she would do. She’d learned a long time ago there was no point in arguing with haelends.

She followed Taeth toward the infirmary tent, grateful the fires at least seemed to be well controlled and most completely extinguished. A bolt of lightning split the sky followed by a roll of thunder and an immediate downpour or rain. Taeth sent her to a nearby empty cot, and Gwai complied, knowing to pick her battles. She curled up and held her ribs, sore from coughing, lightheaded from the smoke, but not wanting to take anyone’s attention since there were those who were much sicker than she. Hopefully she could sneak home at some point without anyone noticing her. She was covered in soot and no doubt would smell like smoke for days.

Elarith

After a quick look around, Elarith still had no clue where the cellar opening for the Æthelmund was. The wreckage from the burning pub obscured some of the ground, and she couldn't get too close because of the heat underfoot, so she gave it up as a bad job and returned to the other Cavalry members. She'd barely been back two minutes when there was a rumbling noise, and as she watched the ground by the pub open up, the paving buckling and tipping into the new hole. She tried not to gawp too much as those quicker on their feet moved in to finish the fire off. With a sigh, she sagged on to the steps of a mounting block. Finally, it was out. The Æthelmund was a charred and twisted shell once again.

The rain at first was a welcome relief, and Elarith revelled in it, as it ran down her face and soaked into her hair. But after a while she was pretty wet through, and getting chilly, and her hand reminded her that it was still injured, and her head that she was still tired, and her stomach that she was ravenous now. And she needed to get back to Old Town, to see if Ælfric and the family were all right. She levered herself from the step, and hurried off, dodging from doorway to overhanging thatch out of the downpour.

Amethyst Copperpick, supping tea

Amethyst sipped on her tea, enjoying blowing the tendrils of steam. She would have to add the tailor shop to her list of places to visit before leaving town, whenever that would now be. The dwarf listened with interest as Grimthain spoke of his concern for his adopted son. She patted his hand again. "Ah, I'm sure he's fine. Young people are remarkably resilient, almost annoyingly so, and any Cavalry training he's had will stand him in good stead. I bet he's helping put the fires out even now. I say, he's not one of these folk assembling the tent walls are they?" she asked, spotting some people in uniforms with canvas and long poles. It would be a shame to block out the stars but she thought she'd felt a spot of rain earlier so it was perhaps for the best.

Amethyst took another sip of tea. It was warming down to her toes, and was disappointingly half gone already. Grimthain had maybe noticed how much she was enjoying it. "Much better, less woozy, thank you. This tea is wonderful. I'm not really used to it - it's all ale, ale, ale back at Erebor, very little variety," she answered. She realised that she hadn't given much thought to where she would stay. She had assumed she'd go back to the inn she'd been lodging at, but if the fires had spread... "I'm happy to go back to The Three Horseshoes, over in the New Town, if it's still standing. If not I'll take any room I can get," she said, trying not to think of her luggage going up in flames. As much of a wrench as it would be, she had gotten off lightly in some respects. And they would want her spot in the infirmary for one of those worse off people before too long.

Outside the Dragon Room

As the heavens opened and water began to pour down, Éomund let out a sigh of relief. He watched as the last flickering flames on the roof of the Dragon Room petered out. The bucket he was holding slipped from his fingers and the water splashed out across the floor. He could feel the rain soaking into his clothes, hair, and into every fibre of his being. The fires were out. The city would be okay. He stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

There were several other people in the vicinity of the Courtyard, but no one he knew. The woman who had brought him over to the courtyard was being forcibly taken in what he heard was the hæland tent. Everyone else seemed to be getting ready to disperse. Éomund had been tired when the fires had started and by now he was utterly exhausted. He wiped his forehead and when he removed his hand he noticed a few pink sequins stuck to it. Bema! How did he still have those horrors on his face? Hopefully it had been too dark and busy for anyone to have noticed. He did not want to gain a reputation in the Cavalry for the embarrassment of the musical number.

Finally straightening all the way up, Éomund glanced around. The air still smelled extremely smokey, despite the summer storm that was currently soaking him. And then he suddenly remembered. "Fædera!" he shouted to himself. If he knew his uncle in any capacity, the man would have been in the thick of it somewhere. He recalled seeing a blaze close to the city gates and wondered if Grimthain had been caught up in that fire. If anything had happened to him … Éomund quickly shook his head. He couldn't think like that. It only led to worse things happening.

By now his clothing was soaked through. He knew he should go dry off somewhere, but he was too worried about making sure Grimthain was okay to even think about going back to the barracks. He gripped the medallion around his neck, picked up the now empty bucket, and hurried in the direction of the hæland tent. If anyone would know where his uncle was, surely someone there would.

Pop-up Infirmary

As Éomund pushed open the tent flap to enter inside, he noticed a rather subdued crowd. There were a handful of folk moving about, but his eyes were first drawn to the covered figure. He gasped, knowing instinctively what that meant, but before he had time to think about it, he noticed Grimthain sitting next to a dwarf? He blinked rapidly to see if he was seeing things, but apparently his vision was true. Éomund hurried over to the older man and threw his arms around his shoulders. Immediately afterwards he half pulled back, realising that his soaking garments were likely to get his uncle wet and he doubted that such an action would be appreciated.

"You're okay," he sighed, sinking to the ground next to his uncle and the dwarf.

@Allacan ob Burzum

With the arrival of the tent and reinforcements, the willpower that had kept Thali going throughout the night began to falter. Cavalry haelends bustled about, and she was clearly not much needed anymore. But this place was only temporary--she hadn't meant it to serve as more than a quick stopping place, or a recourse in case of emergency. Those who needed further help would soon be arriving at the place she'd built on the outskirts of Edoras, cobbling it together over the last two days. She should be there now, instead of here. For the moment, her work in the city was done.

Gathering up her satchel and slipping away quietly, Thali stopped short near the tent's entrance. A familiar figure lay on one of the cots, coughing painfully and looking worn out.

"Westu Gwai hal," Thali said kindly. "No, don't answer. You need to be sitting up, lying prone like that won't help your cough."

Reaching for a bundle of blankets, Thali helped Gwai sit forward and propped them behind her, so that she might rest easy. Settling Gwai back in, Thali turned to one of the Cavalry haelends bustling about.

"Tea, I think--" she began, but before she could finish, the other haelend pressed a warm mug into her hand. The warm, comforting smell of honey, ginger and thyme wafted from the mug, and Thali turned back to Gwai.

"There you are then," she said, offering the cup. "Sip that slowly and try to get some rest, freond min. You've done good work tonight, and all of Edoras is in your debt. I'd stay if I could, but duty calls me elsewhere. If that cough hasn't let up in a day or two, just come find me--out on the south side of the city, beyond the walls. If I don't see you, I'll assume things are better."

Thali shook off the temptation to linger. There were other things that needed her attention. Parting ways with Gwai, she found an Aethelwigend and gestured toward the back of the tent.

"Do you see that bundle over there?" Thali said, her voice low and soft. "That's a woman who lost her life in the fires. I need you to bring her out and settle her in my cart, so I can see she's tended to properly."

The Aethelwigend did as he'd been told and Thalionwen stood for a moment on the threshold of the tent, looking back at the little haven she'd built up in the midst of chaos. With a sad smile, she ducked out into the slackening rain, and a cheerless grey dawn.

She nodded in satisfaction as the man took the water-skin and drank heartily of its contents. She opted not to try and excuse her lack of response to Nymlac's comments, and instead shifted a little way towards a chest of healing supplies that had been brought in, hoping she might be able to rest her back against it and get some relief from holding herself up in a sitting position, even as she glanced around eager for one of the newcomers to relieve her of her patient.

Relief came in the form of Lailyn who approached the drunken man with an air of familiarity and concern that made it clear to the old woman that they were well acquainted and that she could be trusted to see him cared for. She paused however when the woman turned and spoke to her. She nodded an affirmative at Lail's question as to whether she had been tending to the man she had called 'Nym', then her eyes opened in wonder as the woman offered to help her and even suggested some more willow-bark. Was this woman a healer herself, or simply aware of the bark-s painkilling properties? Then she reflected that it was probably no surprise the woman wanted to help her, given her current regalia; her simple night-dress was barely covering her legs and the crocheted blanket pulled over her shoulders like a shawl was clearly the only thing staving off shivers. Her left wrist wrapped in bandages was visibly held close to her body in a sling, her right ankle similarly bound with cloth had meant she had been forced to hold the leg held out awkwardly at an angle as she had tried to bum-shuffle herself to a more comfortable position. She sighed at the sight that she must appear, it did not sit well with her pride and stubbornly independent nature.

Recovering her composure, she nodded gratefully to Lail's offer and gestured between herself and the chest by way of requesting help moving there, and eagerly accepted some willowbark when it was proffered to her. Soon enough she had settled herself in her chosen position with such comfortable ownership and grace that she somehow managed to make it appear like she was positioned to oversee the activities in the tent. Indeed, it was not long before she was authoritatively clicking her fingers at passing cavalry soldiers, waggling fingers at them and waving them over to the aid of those healers who needed them most; commanding people about with a pointed finger and a stern look that few were impervious too. She seemed quite comfortable in her supervisory status, and she happily waved away any more of Lail's concerns and instead made motions that she usher Nymlac out of the tent and home before she returned once again to conducting and co-ordinating those milling around the tent with the steady self-assurance of a woman who was used to being heeded. In true officious form, she would continue to oversee the activities until all and sundry had been properly seen to and discharged, and only then employ the assistance of one unfortunate Æthelwigend Grimm to transport her in style to the Edoras Infirmary a short distance from the city, where she would finally find comfort and rest.

---

He smiled, comforted by her assurances that the young were resilient. "Aye, you are probably right Lady Copperpick, and in any event worrying never served any purpose when ignorance abounds." He laughed at her lamenting of dwarven beverage choices (or lack thereof), his chuckles were deep and rich. Then he sighed with relief when he heard that she was not staying at the Inn that he knew had been caught in the conflagration, and gratefully replied "Given where the fires were positioned and how much time they had to spread, I am very hopeful that The Three Horseshoes Inn, and indeed all of New Town if we are lucky, has been spared from the fires. Given these heavy rains and the lull in cries without, I suspect that it will not be long before all three blazes have been subdued. In fact..." He paused as one particularly loud and boisterous individual passed by the outside of the tent shouting to all and sundry that the last of the fires in the courtyard had been smothered. "...it sounds as though that is the all clear. Excuse me one moment ma'am."

He stood up and stepped away from the dwarven lady for a moment, shouting "Hail, young missy!" at the passer-by as she crossed the tent opening. The young woman paused, looking around for him, and he shouted his query aloud to both pose his question and simultaneously draw her attention to him. "Were you at the most southern fires? And if so, which buildings were damaged in the fray, was New Town spared from the fires and...?" he lowered his voice to a quieter tone, forcing himself not to glance over at the blanket-covered body only a short distance away "...were there any casualties?"

She stepped into the tent, responding to him in a voice loud enough that many in the tent might hear it. "The old cavalry tavern, called Ethelsomething-or-other, and the Campian arena were destroyed, but both were seemingly empty when they were overcome, or at least emptied shortly after the fires started. I know of no casualties. There was also shouting about a fire on the Dragon Room roof; I didn't see it myself good sir, but it didn't seem to have time to spread any further than the roof before it the rains started and people started saying it was out, and there was no call for a medic or any panic that would suggest anyone was injured in the handling of that fire either, though I admittedly stayed outside the courtyard walls so I cannot confirm that with any certainty." He thanked her for the news and gave her a dismissive nod before quickly returning to Amethyst's side with a genuine smile on his face. "Did you hear that, Lady Copperpick? It sounds like yours and Krystalle's lodgings are safe, and you should be able to return there as soon as you are deemed well enough by the healers. Maybe once this rain has stopped, if hæland Thalionwen would permit it, I could escort you across the city and see you settled there?" He glanced around, realising then that Thali had left the tent and instead hoping to catch the attention of one of the other (NPC) healers who had recently arrived "You seem much returned to yourself Lady Copperpick, and I suspect you will feel infinitely better if you were surrounded by your belongings and resting in a comfortable bed and not a make-shift cot in a tent." he hesitated a moment as a healer wandered over to check how the dwarven woman was faring, before adding "That is, if you would permit me to be your chaperone for what remains of the evening?"

Her response was interrupted by the abrupt entry of Éomund into the scene as the younger man temporarily wrapped an arm around him and then just as suddenly withdrew. On turning and recognising him, Grimthain's reaction was instant. Without a moment's hesitation or any shred of concern for his potentially inappropriate lack of etiquette before a woman he still believed might be dwarven royalty, he knelt on the hard ground and swept Éomund up into a hearty bear-hug, pressing his face into the younger man's soaked hair with no care for how drenched he might be, his eyes suddenly misty with emotion as a bubble of concern and fear he had been forcibly subduing since he first saw the fires finally popped. "Deor Nefa min! Thank Bema you are safe" He held the young man close, both of them relaxing into the heart-felt and rare embrace, until the front of Grimthain's clothes were well and truly soaked and his heart had stopped racing with adrenaline.

Then he temporarily withdrew, but only long enough to properly assess his ward's well-being, wiping wet hair from out of Éomund face to consider the clear look in his vision and noting the smokey smudges across his cheeks and forehead. "I was terrified you would go and do something reckless and heroic." he declared, allowing an inkling of concern to show through before his face erupted into a relieved grin "I would have expected nothing less of the son of Éodred than to be in the thick of things; oh I am *so* glad you are safe!" he confessed again, pulling the young man into another less frantic but no less passionate embrace, kissing the lad's head as he held him close before half-turning back to Amethyst while still keeping one arm wrapped around his sword-brother-son. "My sincere apologies for my ill manners, Lady Copperpick, I do beg your forgiveness. May I please introduce you to my ward, Éomund son of Éodred. Nefa, this is Lady Amethyst Copperpick and her feline companion *inside* the handbag is Krystalle" he declared politely, glancing sideways at Éomund in the hopes that the younger man would pick up on the formality of his tone and behave accordingly.

@Elarith (Grimthain is happy to escort Amethyst back to her inn and if necessary offering to stay and watch over her if required by the healer, but Shadowfox is also heading that way and happy with a blanket over an armchair or a comfy corner, so Amethyst will have a choice of company if you prefer the NPC healer to require it, or at the least can have either of her two new friends close at hand for her comfort if she wishes it.)

---

The dwarves axe fell sharp and true, and Shadowfox' cheered aloud as the barrels spewed their contents over the smouldering roof and swiftly smothered what little embers remained there. They were just about to thank the dwarf for joining them on the rooftop when the skies suddenly opened, and heavy droplets of rain fell down across the entire city, turning the horizon into a haze and muting the sounds of the city below. Instinctively they dropped to their hands and knees to ensure a firmer grip on the dark rooftop below them, knowing well the dangers of water making surfaces and hand-holds slippery at such a height "Be careful as you descend, hook your arms through the ladder and grab the rungs from the opposite side so that you will stay on even if your fingers slip." They shouted down to Calimir's team, who were now trying to retreat down the ladder and onto the ground. Shadowfox took extra care to ensure that all the remnants of the barrels were placed into or attached to the empty buckets and lowered down - it wouldn't be good to have a wind drop the rungs and boards onto someone's head - and clearing the rooftop as best they could even while the heavy water droplets soaked through their flimsy summer dress.

Then, fingers shivering a little by then but taking extra caution not to lose a three-point connection on the rooftop at any time, they endeavoured to ensure everyone had made it safely down, even offering the no longer needed bucket-hauling rope to lower Malachite's axe to the ground or alternatively fasten it securely to his person so he could keep both hands free for the descent, before eventually quitting the vaulted rooftop themselves. Despite their usual apathy towards heights, they were all the same grateful to feel their feet firmly back on the ground, and when they did so they felt a sudden unexpected weight of fatigue from all the numerous events of the long day suddenly weight upon them.

They had intended to continue the clear-up, or offer assistance where necessary, but all around them people were rushing for cover or seeking their own homes and beds in respite from the night's activities. They had lost sight of the heroic dwarf - and indeed the organised bell-bedecked man and the inspiring Gondorian - in the deluge, and they had no idea what had happened to the scythe-wielding woman from the cavalry muster-fields. With a sigh they accepted that their personal thanks and gratitude to these people for their brave endeavours would have to wait for another day to express, if they were so lucky. For now, they realised that they served no-one at all by standing around and getting cold and wet, and as tired as they suddenly felt it seemed unwise to try and attempt to aid with the efforts that were sure to be required now until they had at least had a little sleep. So they set off in the direction of an inn they had seen in New Town, one they recalled seeing with a sign displaying three-interlocked horseshoes hanging over its door. They had not been staying at an Inn previously, being too short of coin to do so prior to today, but after the events of the night they decided that roughing it in a stable had lost all appeal and they settled to use what little coin they had been donated after their Mx Meduseld performance to negotiate a warm corner of one of the Inn's rooms and mayhap a warm blanket and the leftover's of the nights food, if they were lucky. It would be a long walk via the empty stall of the Rohirric stables where they had hidden their few belongings, but with the promise of warmth and shelter in mind they moved hurriedly thought the now dark city, just another one of the many people rushing around its streets after the bedlam of the fires.

@Aodh Hammerhelm (Pray good sir, neither Shadowfox nor their player know the tongue of the dwarven folk; might I request a translation of your mighty words that the winds carried over Edoras rise as the bearded hero felled his fiery foe?)

@Allacan ob Burzum

("Bark Ugmil-adad! Danakh-mizim ai-mênu!” - Axe of my grandfather! The Green-Jewel* is upon you!

* No word for Malachite in any online Khuzdul could I find! Not sure either if cobbling words I did uncover are a true representation of the secret tongue)

Much to his surprise, Grimthain joined Éomund on the ground. The older man pulled him into a tight hug and Éomund's face was buried in his uncle's chest. He felt his tense body relax at the unexpected comfort and length of this embrace. For awhile, Éomund lost all sense of time and when the embrace was released and Grimthian brushed some hair out of his face, Éomund realised just how exhausted he was now that the excitement was over and how wet his uncle was.

"I-I don't know what came over me," he murmured into Grimthain's shoulder, as once again he was pulled into a hug, "But I know everyone should help when there's a fire." He tried to smile when his uncle mentioned that he knew he would have been in the thick of things, but all Éomund could do at the moment was to try and not think about how terrified he had been. "I'm glad we're both safe," he sighed.

At last, Grimthain turned, and keeping one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, apologised for his ill manners, and introduced him to the dwarf, who apparently was called Lady Copperpick. Éomund narrowed his eyes in confusion as feminine terms were used. The person sitting there had a beard! The idea of female dwarves had never cross his mind, but logic told him that they existed. During the introduction, he stole a glance at Grimthain. By the tone his uncle was using, he could tell that he was treating this woman with greater formality than he normally used.

"G-good evening," he stuttered, bowing his head slightly. He had no idea what to say to strangers during the best of times, but now, he was standing in an infirmary tent, exhausted, dripping wet, covered in bits of soot, and in front of a female dwarf. But before he could say another word, he felt a tickle in his nose. Just as he managed to get one arm in front of his face, a loud sneeze escaped. "ACHOO!"

Pop Up Infirmary
Lailyn with Nymlac and Mother Mute

At the old woman’s nod, Lailyn searched around for willowbark and managed to find some more without much trouble. Having noticed not only the woman’s bandages but also her outfit, she fetched another blanket and insisted Old Mother Mute take it. Even if it was too warm, at least she could roll it up and use it as a pillow.

She handed the woman the willowbark and helped move her toward the chest as gently as she could to save her any pain from her injuries. Despite her age and apparent lack of ability to speak, the woman seemed alert and held herself with a kind of pride and resilience Lailyn respected. She was just about to ask what else she needed or if there was anything else she could do or if there was family she could find when the woman gestured at her to take Nymlac away.

Lail bit back a grin and spoke to the woman in a low voice. “Yes, I’d want him gone if I were you, too,” she joked. “Take care of yourself,” she told her with a very gentle squeeze on the woman’s bony shoulder.

Satisfied she was in good hands with the other healers, Lail turned to Nymlac and barely managed to hold back a sigh. “Come on,” she said as she put an arm around him to help him stand. “I’ll walk you home.”

He swayed on his feet at first but between her and his cane, he managed to remain upright. “I’ve been...wand’ring the streets,” he slurred his words, “like this for years...wi’out you.”

That was precisely what worried her. She’d heard rumors about his exploits. He overindulged in their youth, but who hadn’t every once in a while especially given the pressures of life in the Cavalry? But now he was older; he should know better. “I know. But I’m here now so let me do this.”

As she made ready to leave, she turned to see Old Mother Mute silently bossing around Cavalry soldiers, some more than twice her size. It gave her the distinct impression that this woman had perhaps been a soldier herself once especially given the way she seemed averse to the ministrations of others. With her cousin in tow, Lailyn left the Infirmary behind and re-emerged into the smoky darkness and the broken streets of Auld Town.

Amethyst Copperpick (is heading back to the pub)

Amethyst drained the last of her tea with a satisfied sigh. "Good tea. I might have to seek some out to take back with me," she said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief (fine cotton, monogrammed, naturally). Grimthain seemed encouraged that the fires had missed The Three Horseshoes, and after a short confirmation with a loud young woman, had it confirmed that the inn had been spared. "Oh, that is good news. The thought of having to replace my entire travelling wardrobe, and the luggage itself..." She shook her head, lost for the words to express such a tragedy. It was just as well she was lying down.

Before the dwarf could reply to Grimthain, a younger man came rushing in, soaked through. There was a tender reunion - this must be the lad he had spoken of, the almost-son, who had clearly been just as worried. As subtly as she could, she dabbed at a tiny tear at the corner of her eye. She waved away the older man's apologies. "Pleased to meet you Éomund son of Éodred. Amethyst Copperpick at your service, and your family's," she replied. She twisted herself to sit on the edge of the cot, carefully stood up, and gave a short bow.

"Well. I have drunk my tea and had my head seen to and all being well the landlord has not given away my room, so I think I shall head back to the inn," said Amethyst, checking that she had all her possessions together and that her bandage was still snug on her head. "I appreciate your offer to come with me, Mr [/b]Grimthain[/b], my darling, but I think you had best get yourself and Éomund clean and dry. And maybe some of that hot tea," she added, hearing the young man sneeze loudly.

She tucked her hand bag in the crook of her arm. "Thank you once again for your care. You know where to find me," she said, then suddenly remembered something and thrust a hand into her bag. "Oh! And take one of these," she said, pressing a business card each upon Grimthain and Éomund. "For all your fashion and jewellery needs. Of course since we are friends now there will be a discount involved." She gave an exaggerated wink.

Amethyst began to head towards the tent entrance, taking her time to maintain her balance. After a few steps she stopped, dwarven honesty compelling her to address a matter that had been niggling at her. "Also, Mr Grimthain, though I must admit to enjoying being addressed as such, I am not really a lady lady - one with a title, that is. My family before me held no rank, being as they were civil engineers for the most part. They built the latrine system in Erebor. Someone had to." With that, she resumed her steady progress out of the tent.

((@Allacan ob Burzum Happy to have either but if you want Grimthain & Éomund to sort themselves out then maybe send Shadowfox by?))

NPC Almod and siblings
Beyond sight of the party tent

The thunderous clap and sharp streak of lightning had sent the younger siblings scattering, but for Léohere who was in Almod’s arms. The eldest brother's pursuit of them was hindered by his burden, and so it was that they were far into the darkness beyond the fires before he caught up to them. Had they not all been dressed in light clothing, he might never have found them in the dark night.

The sky had opened up just as they were reunited, and now they all huddled together against the deluge in a copse of trees. Almod could hear the roar of the Snowbourn growing louder as it swelled with the rain. The shower had extinguished any remaining fire in and around Edoras; other than the sound of the river, there was nothing to mark where they were. Almod was now lost.

He was trying to remember what direction the river had been from town; it had been years since Papa had brought them outside the walls to explore, and he had been very young then. The little ones were beginning to cry, and he himself was scared. Where was Mam? Or Beda? Could they even find them in the dark?

“Hush up now,” he admonished his brothers and sisters. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it appeared, and thankfully it was a warm evening. “We are going to play a game. We are going to go to sleep right here under these trees, and see how long it takes for Mam to find us.” He found a mossy spot that was not too wet and laid out the small blanket that Leoflida had dragged along as they fled their cottage. He had just arranged and quieted them all when Saewyn began bellowing afresh. “My dolly is gone!” she cried. Almod put his head in his hands and wondered how he would make it through the night.

The errand rider lodge, Edoras

Cal' fell fast asleep when he got to his room. Luckily the fires hadn't come to this part of the Auld Town. He was exhausted, and thought he would sleep for at least a day. But he didn't. Five hours later he was up and standing watching dawn come over the hills in the distance. The rain had stopped and he was hungry. The whole town smelled smoky and there were people wandering about looking lost and confused. The lad from Gondor went towards the Riddermarket hoping to find a shop to buy bread and cheese. The kitchen at the errand-rider lodge only opened at 8 o clock.

His focus shifted keenly as Éomund sneezed, and he re-evaluated the younger man held close beside him who was likely losing heat fast in his wet clothes and would need to change shortly or risk falling ill himself. For a moment, Grimthain appeared torn between his duty to his dwarven patient and his concern for his nephew. Amethyst herself seemed keen to return to her lodgings and took advantage of his distraction. She handed both of the men a business card and while they were considering these, quickly gathered her things and headed for the exit, politely declining his offer to be her chaperone in much the manner of a courteous dismissal. She was near to the exit when Grimthain's sense of duty soon had him rushing after her, gesturing for Éomund to follow after.

"You may deny the honorific by tithe or title, however I have yet to meet a woman who was more worthy of being called a lady; you are certainly that word in manner, grace and demeanour. Call me an old, traditionalist fool, but with your permission I will continue to treat you as no less than the same as a sign of my own high regard for you." He bowed a little graciously, although he had visibly relaxed in the knowledge she lacked the power to demand his head on a platter if he spoke out of turn. "Additionally, speaking as someone who has lived his whole life with nothing better than a chamber pot to relieve himself within, any family who developed a latrine system that was more sophisticated than burying it in the ground or tossing it down a stream are - as far as I am concerned - among the greatest citizens of the century." He winked at the potentially coarse manner of subject to take some of the grotesqueness from his inferences.

He wasn't exactly how comfortable with leaving either his sword-brother-son or this lovely lady alone, but he could see little merit in imposing his company on the dwarven woman longer than she wished, especially given she seemed much recovered from her stunned state. All the same... "From where we are presently, New Town and the Cavalry Courtyard are in the same direction. Mi'lady, at least allow myself and Éomund the honour of walking with you until our paths diverge. I have few enough friends in this city that I would deeply regret not at least seeing you safely that far." He smiled at her as he offered his arm, enjoying the idea that he had a pleasant acquaintance outside the military for what was probably the first time in many years, and pleased that it was someone so pleasant and polite. She could hardly argue with his logic, although he had no idea yet what he intended to do when he reached the point where they would part, because he was still reluctant to leave her alone.

The rains had mercilessly halted by the time they all three exited the tent with a borrowed blanket for Éomund and the instructions of a healand still echoing in their ears; warnings that Amethyst should be checked on regularly and a list of concussive symptoms for her to beware of and seek aid for if they started; headaches, dizziness, nausea and the like. Unsurprisingly, Éomund had grown shy and quiet in the presence of the stranger, but Grimthain was happy to walk the still damp streets in relative quiet while he pondered how exactly to convince Amethyst to allow him to at least escort her to her door. His concerns, however, were unnecessary, as a joyous cry of "Amethyst!" heralded the appearance of a young person dressed in a skirt but obviously sporting the youthful growth of a beard (Shadowfox).

"You know this woman?" He asked of the newcomer, who had rushed up to them expressing relief at discovering the dwarven woman was well, looking unexpectedly taken aback by his defensive questioning.

"Of course I do; she was a competitor with me in the M Meduseld competition, and the most beautiful attendee at the After-Party. We are friends." Shadowfox responded, their courage fuelled a little with the adrenaline rush of having discovered one of their only friends in the world safe. They turned to Amethyst to enquire politely "Are you lodged at The Three Horseshoes? I was just headed that way myself."

Grimthain was unfortunately a man overly familiar with the respectful tone with which young soldiers addressed their superior officers, and what's more in the last decade he had had little interaction with people outside the cavalry beyond prisoners and military families. He was therefore sadly ignorant of many things, often unaware of his completely unintentional bias towards traditionalist perspectives. Additionally, he was exhausted and not thinking clearly. Thus it was he responded poorly to this - from his perspective - impolite young man clothed absurdly in a dress. Before Amethyst could answer Shadowfox's question, with all the best intentions poorly delivered, he took it upon himself to take an authoritative approach to the situation, mostly because he was overly focused on ensuring Amethyst was cared for and had no real knowledge of what it meant to be non-binary.

"Excellent; this lady is headed in that direction, and she would benefit from the escort of a fine young gentleman such as yourself." Shadowfox's expression immediately became coldly neutral, but Grimthain continued on entirely ignorant to his social blunder in (mis-)gendering Shadowfox. Had he realised his error. he would have been utterly mortified and apologetic, but late in a very long day Shadowfox clearly had no wish to engage in such an awkward discussion and shook their head subtly at the others should they realise Grimthain's error.

"She has taken a blow to the head and the Inn staff should be warned to check on her regularly to ensure her condition has not deteriorated. I trust you will see her safely delivered to her destination, there's a good lad now." Shadowfox simply gave a deferential bow of agreement, but opted not to verbally respond as Grimthain (who was clearly used to having his orders followed). The soldier in any event had already shifted his focus to give Amethyst a stern look that showed he would clearly brook no argument from her about this allocated escort. The cavalry officer bowed low before the dwarven lady, taking her hand to kiss it gently. "Mi'lady, I will take my leave safe in the knowledge you will be well cared for." He threw a wink companionably in Shadowfox's direction, uncharacteristically ignorant to the young person's dislike of his attittude, before stepping back to Éomund. "As for you, Nefa, let's get you back to the barracks and into some dry pyjamas and a nice warm bed..." he said warmly as the cavalry pair headed away.

Shadowfox took a long, deep breath - letting the moment go as they had so many moments before - then turned to Amethyst with a refreshed smile. "I *am* so glad you are safe, and it is very good to see you. If *you* wish it, I will certainly walk with you to the The Three Horseshoes Inn, but only if that is what you desire. I doubt such an independent soul as yourself needs someone like me to look after them, but it would be nice to have some company tonight after everything that has happened. Also..." they added in a quieter, shy manner. "I must confess I lack the coin for a room, but I was rather hoping after everything else that has taken place today that I could beg a blanket and a quiet corner of the Inn-keeper. If you would be willing to vouch for my character to them, I would be much obliged."

@Elarith and @Dimcairien Luiniel (Apologies for the minor manipulation of the scene but I hope that allows for a diplomatic exit for all parties without pushing them too harshly beyond their characteristics. Poor Grimthain has a lot to learn, the silly old fool, but thankfully Shadowfox knows it was all unintended and will hold no grudge)

Amethyst Copperpick, into the night

The darkness outside the tent hid the blush that had crept into Amethyst's cheeks. "Oh, away with you!" she mumbled, when Grimthain said he still considered her a lady. She had accepted the offered arm - she was still a little wobbly, and unsure of where the inn was in relation to where the infirmary tent had been set up. The cobbles were slick from the earlier rain, and the dwarf had to pay extra attention to her footing as they headed into the night.

Amethyst thought she heard someone call her name, and looked up to see a thin figure heading towards them. She squinted in the dim light, and it was only when they were fairly close that she realised she did know this person. "Oh, Shadowfox! I'm so pleased you're all right," she said, as Grimthain took over with his orders. She was too weary to countermand him, and it was probably a good idea to have someone take her all the way back to the tavern. She gave him a bow as he took his leave and left with Éomund. "Farewell, Mr Grimthain! And you too, Éomund, you two look after each other," she called after them.

As Shadowfox asked her if she was happy for them to walk her back to The Three Horseshoes, Amethyst smiled. "Of course, darling, I would be delighted. Not least because I'm not sure how to get there from... wherever we are now," she said, waving with her handbag at the street around them. Her smile soon faded as Shadowfox said they were trying to blag somewhere to sleep. "Oh but you can stay in my room! There is a little truckle bed in there, that'll be more comfortable than a chair or a stable or whatever. And they went on and on back in the healers' tent about how I shouldn't be left alone, even though I'm sure I will be perfectly fine, so this will keep them happy too," she told them. She suddenly remembered the abandoned luggage and clothes scattered about. Hopefully Shadowfox didn't have very high standards.

@Allacan ob Burzum

When he sneezed, both the dwarf and Grimthian turned to look at him in concern. Éomund looked down at his clothes, which were still dripping wet, despite the fact that he had been inside the tent for several minutes. The dwarf got up from the cot and handed both of them a business card. Éomund looked at it curiously before sticking it in his sodden pocket.

When Grimthain offered to walk her back to her room at the inn, which thankfully had not been close to any of the fires, she shook her head and explained that she would be alright. Lady Copperpick eyed his wet clothing and suggested that he should get himself home and have a cup of hot tea. Éomund briefly closed his eyes. A cup of hot tea and going to bed sounded downright wonderful at the moment. All the aderlinine of the fires was beginning to vanish from his system and he realised just how tired he was. He would likely fall asleep on his feet were it not for the fact that Grimthian was holding on to him.

As she headed for the exit, she turned and told Grimthain that she was not of any highborn dwarven families and explained that her family had simply built latrine systems. Éomund grimaced slightly as his uncle casually mentioned that latrine systems were far more sophisticated than chamber pots. While the statement was entirely true, it didn't seem to be appropriate conversation for mixed company.

Of course, his uncle was honourable to a fault and still insisted on walking the woman back to the inn, or at least as far as the barracks. A moment later, they stepped out of the tent, (thankfully it had stopped raining by now) Éomund wrapped in a dry blanket, which he promised to return as soon as possible. He walked about a pace or two behind his uncle and the dwarven woman, staying silent. He had no clue if it was still the same day or the next morning, but whatever day it was, the last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of the unexpected. He had requested to join the Cavalry, got roped into a dance, injured someone doing said dance, and managed to get himself involved in putting out a fire. "At least I did something worthwhile," he muttered under his breath.

The group hadn't gone very far when a slight figure in a dress approached them (Shadowfox) and greeted the dwarf Amethyst quite cheerfully. They seemed to know each other and the individual offered to walk Amethyst the rest of the way to the inn. When Grimthain referred to the individual as a "gentlemen" Éomund noticed a strange shift in how they carried themself, but put it off as being exhausted. It had been a wild night, so a man wearing a dress, if that was the case, was not something that bothered him at the moment, though he was curious about this person. Perhaps another day they would be able to meet, but right now all he wanted to do was to get out of his wet clothes, drink some hot tea, and go to sleep. Hopefully this nightmare of a day would be over when he woke up.

Once the pair were on their way towards the inn, Grimthain placed an arm around his shoulder and they began to head off to the barracks. Amethyst called a farewell over her shoulder, but Éomund was too exhausted and shy to try to respond. Hopefully she wouldn't take it too badly.

Before long, they arrived in Éomund's assigned area of the barracks and Grimthain pulled out some dry clothes. After instructing him to completely dry off before putting the new clothes on, he headed to the Mess Hall to prepare a cup of hot tea. Éomund had no sooner finished drying off and putting the fresh pyjamas on, when his uncle returned with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. For a moment, Éomund held the cup in his hands, letting the heat warm his hands and then he slowly took a sip. He had barely finished half the cup when he yawned and placed the cup on the chest. "Thank you, Fædera," he murmured. "Is Edoras always this exciting?" He wasn't quite sure if that was the word he was looking for, but it would have to do for now. He pulled his feet up on to the bed and flopped down, completely exhausted. He was asleep within seconds, unaware if his uncle answered his question or simply left to let him sleep.

@Allacan ob Burzum (Hope you're okay with the slight godmoding. I know you're trying to wrap things up in this thread (as am I), and I figured it would be IC of Grimthain to go and make some tea. I think this set-up allows you to either respond or simply make a quiet exit. Also, Éomund hasn't officially met Shadowfox yet, so has no idea what to think of them.)

Shadowfox sighed with visible relief at Amethyst's kind offer. "Oh thank you! That is very generous; I swear you will hardly know I am there and I will be sure to keep close by in case you need anything, and will answer to any healers who wish to interrogate me on your well-being tomorrow." The two companionably headed for to get what rest they could in the few hours remaining of the night, and true to their word Shadowfox was at all times courteous and respectful to Amethyst's privacy while also checking in with her periodically through the night to check that her health had not deteriorated. The younger performer's presence was only really notable by their soft snores in the early hours of the morning. By the time Amethyst woke the next day, she would find the truckle bed empty and neatly made, her own belongings respectfully folded and hung out of the way so as to avoid any creases or stains in the fabric, and a small plate of breakfast and a fresh pot of tea placed on her bedside table; with a small napkin skilfully folded in the shape of a fox's head adorning the tray as a thank you note from a friend.

---

He wrapped an arm companionably, and a little protectively, around his ward as they parted from the dwarf and the strange figure in a dress. His sense of duty now in overdrive, he escorted the young cavalry trainee to his barracks dorm and assumed the air of a father figure; searching through Éomund's chest (neatly folded and sorted, unlike his father's would have been; good lad!) until he found a pair of dry pyjamas (hmm, those seams could do with a re-stitch, I'll have to buy him a needle and thread) and instructing the boy to dry himself thoroughly before dressing. Then he excused himself to the mess hall briefly to fetch tea; confident that an Aethelwigend would be less harried by the kitchen staff for helping himself to such supplies, especially on a night like tonight. He returned with a steaming cup for Éomund - neglecting himself in his duty, but intending to return to warmth and comfort himself as soon as he had seen his sword-brother-son well tended.

The younger man had stopped shivering, and the warm cup seemed to do its job of easing him towards sleep. Grimthain smiled at his innocent query, and gave a small wink. "I wouldn't know, nefa, I'm a Westmark boy, or at least I was until recently. This is as new to me as it is to you." He replied as he tucked the covers about Éomund, realising only then that the lad had already been claimed by slumber. He brushed a loose lock of hair out of the boy's face and considered him a moment; so like his father in so many ways, and yet in other ways, so much more like his warden. "Sleep well, Éomund son of Éodred. Today you did your father... both of your fathers... proud" he said quietly with gentle love tinged with the smallest pang of regret. Then he lifted the nearby lantern, and quietly exited the barracks towards his own rest.

@Dimcairien Luiniel (Perfectly happy with the godmodding, I actually greatly appreciate you offering me an exit the way you did )