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@Arnyn
Silently, Duinion studied the marks that Arnyn had pointed out, and nodded as he saw what she had seen. The rain had done a good job of washing away most of the signs of the two horse's passing, but some traces remained, thankfully. He frowned slightly. It did appear that the prints overlapped, but it was blurred and difficult to read, so he couldn't tell at this point which prints were made on top of the other. While he leaned more toward the thought that it was Buttercup's prints that stepped over the other prints, he couldn't tell for certain and so, he didn't say one way or the other. He was glad that it hadn't been a heavier rain, or else there may not have been any traces left to find. He slowly moved in the direction that the trail seemed to be heading, hoping to find another piece. Being careful not to step anywhere without first checking it carefully.

When Kaylin spoke with what sounded like tentative optimism, Duinion made no comment. Yes, it might make him a bit less uncomfortable if that were the case; that Buttercup had come here as a familiar place, and the other horse followed it. But then again, that still left the question; where was Eryn? There were too many unanswered questions that made him uneasy and worried. Another was, why come here, rather than home? Wouldn't that be more familiar to her? He really didn't know much about how horses thought, though, so it was difficult to say. Therefore, he said nothing. He was focused on searching for the next piece to the trail.

There, he saw another faded print in the mud that the rain had blurred. Most of what he could see was the half-circular shape of a horse's hoofprint, but it was enough for him to make out what it was. And close by, he was able to connect the others that should go with it. He moved on, toward the woods, in the direction the tracks had come from. When he was under the trees, he hesitated and frowned. Of course, it would have to be at the time of year when trees were rapidly shedding their leaves, and the ground here was covered by them. It would be difficult for horses to have left any trail at all, he thought with disappointment, but perhaps there would be something. He had to hope for that. He'd tracked orcs and Harad men in the woods of Ithilien before, and hunted deer and other game in these very woods, and woods like this. He could do this.

A few yards further, he spotted something hopeful, and ventured carefully in that direction to have a closer look. He knelt and examined a stick that had broken under the weight of a horse stepping on it. The bark was scuffed, showing that a horse's shoe had done it. He had no doubt there. "Here is another print," He said, remembering the others, and that he was not here alone. After going for a little way further, he crossed the place where he and Kaylin had passed while making their circuit of cabin. He could see that the leaves were disturbed, but aside from that, the ground there was thickly covered in fallen leaves, and there was no sign of the other trail to be found in that particular spot. That made him feel a bit better for having missed it before, but now he was determined to find the next sign to keep them traveling in the right direction.

He kept his eyes glued to the ground in search for more clues, though once or twice he glanced up and around to see if there were any sort of signs on the trees around them. Something caught in the branches perhaps, or a branch broken oddly, or even a cut in the trunks. But, no, he found nothing, and that further confirmed to him that Eryn was not here to begin with. He wondered if she was even in the habit of coming here at all. If she did come here sometimes, she had never mentioned it to him.

After finding a couple more clues to keep them traveling in the correct direction, the trail brought them through an area with a lot of pines and few deciduous trees. The ground was covered in pine needles, moss, and ferns, with hardly any leaves to hide the ground. Duinion became more hopeful. With more of the ground exposed, there were more chances of finding a trail. Furthermore, the evergreens still had most of their needles and so, provided a thicker canopy overhead, which meant less rain had made it to the ground.

Sure enough, before long he discovered some fairly clear prints on the ground between some large, bushy ferns. Among the ferns clustered nearby, some showed that looked as if they'd been stepped on by horses, and these signs all moved in the same direction. He smiled grimly with satisfaction as he crouched down, moving the ferns apart to examine the clearest of the prints he had found so far. The smile faded after a moment, when he saw that the smaller hoofprint, belonging to Buttercup, overlapped the larger horse's print. So much for Kaylin's optimism. He let out a soft sigh.

"Buttercup was following the other horse." He reported quietly, glancing up to the others at last. "Possibly being led after it, or possibly, someone else was riding her and following the man. The mystery girl, perhaps." He glanced again at the print, trying to gauge whether she had been carrying a rider or not. "I would say she was carrying a passenger. But not Eryn," he added, standing upright again. "Since we found no sign of her at the cabin. And I suspect that if she were at all capable of it, she would have tried to leave some sort of sign or mark to help make the trail more visible." He wanted to believe that she would have been capable of it, anyway.

@Rillewen
Once Arnyn had filed away the information that this was where Duinion used to live, and it became clear Duinion's tenacity was leading him - an dthem - further along the trail, Arnyn beckoned over Vorondil. "Get Sarina and the horses," the Lieutenant told him quietly. "We're moving on." She gripped the ranger's arm, making eye contact. "Quickly, Vorondil."
The ranger looked back and nodded. Then he was off.

Arnyn and Kaylin followed Duinion. When they passed their own earlier trail, Kaylin scowled. "I never would have noticed this trail," she remarked, muttering. Even though she was not embarrassed not having noticed it - she knew everyone had different strengths, it still irked her that they had passed right by it.
Arnyn gave her a reassuring smile, also speaking quietly. "And I wouldn't last ten minutes against you with a spear."
That made Kaylin smile.

The Lieutenant also looked for the trail along with Duinion, but so far she hadn't spotted anything worth mentioning that Duinion had clearly not seen himself. Judging from the way he was moving and looking around, it looked like he was now seeing just as much as she was, anyway.

When Duinion said that it looked like Buttercup had been following the other horse, Arnyn moved closer to take a look for herself. Kaylin sighed. "Crap," she muttered. "Sorry."
"I agree," Arnyn said, looking at Duinion. The way Buttercup's hoof had made the clearer print, partially covering the other horse's hoofdprint, made it obvious. "Whether or not the man knew about the cabin being a former residence, he definitely led both horses here."

"If you two are reading all of this right, then Eryn might be found if we follow this trail, though, right?" Kaylin offered. It was blindingly obvious, of course, but maybe simply stating it out loud would at least offer Duinion some hope.

Arnyn nodded. "We will all go."

At that point, Vorondil and Sarina joined them, along with all five horses. Arnyn turned so she could see everyone. "You three can mount your horses. Lead Nársulë and Buttercup as well. Duinion and I will continue on foot." It would allow them to read the faded trail better. "Two sets of eyes are better than one," she added, speaking more quietly and looking at Duinion.
Kaylin, Sarina and Vorondil did as ordered. Duinion and Arnyn followed the trail, starting off in silence. Until they found something specific, there was little need for words, and Arnyn still figured the questions she had, could wait. Since Kaylin had taken up the rear of the group, she was a bit too far removed to spout her questions at Duinion. Besides, she also felt anxious around him, unsure of what she should or shouldn't ask at the moment.

@Arnyn
"That's what I hope," Duinion answered Kaylin's comment quietly. He had to believe that Eryn was on the other end of this trail, and that she wasn't harmed. He couldn't let himself begin to think of what other possibilities may be waiting on the other end, or the anxiety might begin to smother him.

Setting off again once it was evident there was little else to see, the party moved on. Somewhere about an hour's walk from the cabin, they came to the stream where a very young Eryn and her cousin Iuldir had once tried to go for a swim, only to be chased back home by a scary 'swamp monster'. It was evident that the two horses had crossed over a shallow part, as their hoof prints were imprinted into the muddy bank on each side. Duinion thought about that incident, and how easily both children might have been lost to them. He took a deep breath, resolved that he was going to find Eryn no matter what. And he'd better find her safe, or there was going to be some serious payback due to someone.

Eventually, they came out of the woods where Duinion and Idhrenel had, long ago, decided to build their home. The Pelennor stretched on beyond them, broken up into farmlands and fields.
He was focusing on finding the next clue to the trail, when Sarina spoke up.

"I apologize if it's out of line to ask this, but, why would anyone kidnap your daughter?" She frowned, looking confused and concerned. "Vorondil filled me in on all that I missed so far, but I don't understand why anyone would do this. Do you have enemies or something?"

Duinion paused, the question catching him a bit off guard. He continued scanning the ground for a moment, thoughtful. There was no reason he knew of not to answer it, now. So, he was trying to think of the best way to go about it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Not personally, but.. the enemies of my blood-brother, Domanol, are behind this." He explained quietly. "They kidnapped his nephew once, years ago, hoping to lure Dom out of hiding to rescue him." He didn't mention, in front of these other two, who that nephew was. Nor did he mention how badly injured Unalmis had been when they found him. He didn't want to think about that, and figured none of the others did, either. He moved along, searching in the grass for some sign of horse tracks while he spoke.

"Unfortunately, Dom never learned of that, and so he didn't come." Duinion went on. "But.. this time," He frowned, then glanced at the others. "This time, Dom is here in the city. They've known for months that he's here, and they also know far too much for my comfort about those he cares about. I believe the sketch was a message meant for him to see, not me. And that troubles me greatly. Because.. whoever drew that sketch and put it on Buttercup, they know who I am and how close Dom and I are, and I'm sure they were counting on that." He glanced at Arnyn, wondering if she had heard anything about this before. "Because.. well, Dom wasn't able to help his brother's son when he was in this predicament." He frowned, pausing to examine another partial print. "He and I have always been as close as brothers... And he has a daughter of his own, now, so he knows what that's like. And.. furthermore, he knows how much Eryn means to me, and how close she and I are. If he knew anything about the jackal sketch, I believe he would do whatever was necessary to help me get her back. Even if it meant going straight to Umbar to storm the temple and confront that sadistic man himself... which is probably exactly what they were hoping he'd do."

@Rillewen
Kaylin tried to overhear Duinion's reply to Sarina's words, but unfortunately she wasn't getting it all. She pursed her lips. Figuring the Lieutenant hadn't ordered her to guard their back, and that as such she was free to move, she urged the horse forward a little, leveling out with Vorondil and catching Duinion's words from the point onwards he spoke of Dom not being able to help his brother's son. Dom? That was the northern ranger they'd seen yesterday. His nephew.. Unalmis. So, Duinion thought that this Umbarian clan was hoping to ensnare that northern ranger by abducting Eryn? After they had failed doing the same when taking Unalmis?

Geez. She was clearly missing out on more. But it was obviously a sore topic for all those involved. Kaylin bit the inside of her bottom lip.

Meanwhile, Arnyn found the next part of the trail and guided them along without much hesitation. She was listening, but the only bit of news in Duinion's answer, for her anyway, was that apparently Domanol had been in Minas Tirith for months. This surprised her, for Unalmis had not known - unless he was a superb actor - at least not at the time she had spoken with him, Isys and Duinion in mid July, nor when she had met with him and Trevadir on the very last day of July. And while Domanol's own nephew had not known, apparently these Umbarians HAD known. And that... that was unsettling.

"You knew," she suddenly half guessed, half realized, glancing up at Duinion. "Didn't you?" And Duinion had mentioned nothing when they had spoken of Unalmis' uncle in that meeting with Isys and Unalmis - for she was certain he had come up. Arnyn soon looked back to the trail however, not wanting to miss anything, as well as recognizing that it was none of her business. If Domanol and Duinion saw each other as brothers, this was a family matter. She gave a brief wave, as if to indicate he need not elaborate.

"But how did they know?" she muttered, frowning at the trail as the question left her lips. "How do you know for certain that they know?" It was difficult to imagine they had gone out of their way to just let Duinion or Domanol know such a thing... unless they were trying to intimidate them or something.

@Arnyn
Duinion had not let his attention waver too far from the trail, yet it was good to see that Arnyn was also keeping a close eye on it. Her surprise upon realizing that he had known about Domanol.. that would have been amusing at almost any other time. He dipped his head in an affirmative manner. "I knew." he answered. "Since April, though he had already been in town for a little while." He did manage a weak smile. "Directly after Captain Alarion had promoted me to Tirdinen, in fact. As that meeting concluded, Lady Ilisys approached me and asked me to come somewhere with her. I had never met her before, and I had no idea what she wanted. And of course, she made it all very strange and mysterious. But, as it turned out, Domanol had asked her to find me, so when she heard my name during that meeting, she did as he asked and brought me to him." He explained.

He figured, there was little else to do but follow the trail, and so long as he and Arnyn were both paying close enough attention not to miss any clues, he might as well explain what he could of this. Talking might keep him from getting lost in his own thoughts and worries, perhaps. "But, though I was overjoyed to see him again," he took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. "He made me swear not to tell anyone he was here. Not even Unalmis or Addhor.. especially not them, in fact. But, that also meant that I couldn't even tell Eryn," He frowned slightly. "Then I hurt my ankle, and I couldn't get around very well. So, he came by the farm almost every night to keep me company and help me out with different things that I was unable to do, after everyone else had gone to bed. For months, he came regularly, and we talked for hours, catching up on the years we missed apart." He smiled faintly, though he kept his gaze downward at the ground, to make sure he didn't miss anything. The trail was crossing the Pelennor, traveling steadily away from Duinion's old home.

He considered the lieutenant's next inquiry with a little frown. "I don't know how they learned about him." He still found this highly puzzling, as well as troubling. " Yet, someone found out, somehow. The very next day after that, someone sent a message to Dom, claiming to be Unalmis, and asked to meet with him." Duinion frowned as he recalled that incident. "Dom told me about this after he had met with the young man. He was close to the correct age, and he knew enough about Domanol's entire family to be convincing..." He took a slow breath in. "He even knew my name, and how close Dom and I are. Just like Unalmis would know... but it was not Unalmis." Duinion's frown deepened. "We suspect that he was trying to fish for information, but he didn't get any of that from Dom. And according to what Dom told me, he already had quite a bit anyway."

"When he told me about it, Dom already felt suspicious that the young man was not who he claimed, though he didn't have anything solid to go on. Just.. a gut feeling, I guess. He hadn't seen Unalmis since he was three years old, so he had no idea what he would look like. But when I pointed out Unalmis to him, Dom's suspicion was confirmed. And that," he sighed. "made him all the more against to let either of them know he was here. Yet, he couldn't go off into hiding again, without knowing if they were safe. Because obviously, someone already knew who they were, and where they were."

He glanced briefly at Arnyn, wondering whether she might be upset that he had not told any of this before now. Technically, he could see why it might have been good to report the matter to someone like the lieutenant, yet at the same time, it had been Domanol's business, and not hers. "He still wanted me to keep his secret, and made me promise not to tell anyone about him, or anything relating to him being here. So, my hands were tied, you might say." He explained with a little sigh. "Before parting ways during the first meeting, the imposter had asked to meet Dom again, so once he knew that it was definitely not Unalmis, he asked me to help him, and we tried to set a trap for the imposter." He returned his gaze to the ground. "Unfortunately, it didn't work." He refrained from mentioning how it had failed. "And, even more unfortunately, I believe it tipped him off to the fact we were on to him, for there was no further attempts made to contact Domanol after that point."

Of course, looking back, he couldn't help feeling that he should have been expecting something like this, but how could he have known these people would strike at Duinion's family to get to Domanol? That was what Domanol had been worried about for the past several months; that they would make a move against him or his immediate family. After hearing that the imposter knew his name, Duinion initially had been somewhat concerned, but when there was no more contact, it had seemed as if the man gave up, and Duinion had let his attention drift toward other things, like recovering, and having to deal with spending some nights at the barracks...

He paused to find the next clue to lead them onward, before concluding. "Two days ago, Domanol and Addhor finally came face to face with one another, and then yesterday morning, Dom and Unalmis came out to the farm to talk to me and Eryn. She had met him before, under the name Gwandhyra, but that was all he told her." He paused to let that sink in, before glancing at the lieutenant. "But now, finally, Dom released me from keeping his secret, and we told Eryn who he truly is. That was Yesterday." He swallowed after emphasizing that point. "After the four of us had spent the morning together, Unalmis, Dom and I left her to come up to the barracks..." He did not add 'to answer your summons', though he was thinking it. "Dom came along because he wanted to meet you, and arrange for a time to come and talk with you." He explained. "Eryn said she was going to ride around for a while... give Buttercup and Hattie some exercise." He drew in a slightly shaky breath. "And that was the last time I saw her. Aggie said she didn't come home last night... And then that jackal emblem returned in her stead... and..." He struggled to keep his emotions under control. "I just.. find the timing of it all to be far too coincidental."


(all the stuff concerning Raxeliltas has been plotted together in chat with ercassie)

Private with @Rillewen @Pele Alarion


Steel against stone, he was fighting a losing battle. Unalmis paused for long enough to inspect the meagre damage done with a finger to be sure. No hole. Only a small dent in the wall to taunt his crazed efforts. It was going to take longer than they probably would be in here, to break out of here. Hopefully. Wait .. hopefully ? He stalled, confusing himself.

“Here !”
The last word that Cadil tried, broke through; even if it was not heard the way it had been spoken. Still it mattered. You. Here. His friend had told him. You’re here. Is what he heard.


His hand poised to strike again at the wall, fingers clasping tight around the ineffectual blade, Unalmis turned from facing an obstacle he could not fight to find the friend who had found a way to make all of the difference.

“Here,” he agreed, eyes wide as he sought for assurance from his fellow unfortunate. “Here. Not there.” He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before lowering the knife which was still caught up in one hand. That hand was not ready to relinquish it’s weapon but the danger was contented to tremble at his side now.


Slowly the words which his friend had spoken broke through. This voice, not like the other. Not a threat, not a whisper. Plain good solid sense.

There was no promise that “if you call out again, I will block that hole. You’ll be out of air in minutes.” Neither was there any wondering of ‘what will happen, do you think, when the water comes in, and you can’t get out ?” There was no terror come from promises that “You are never ever ever getting out of there”.

There was, instead .. hope. “Save your strength” the voice said, this time. Different voice. “Not that way.” It reasoned. Supposing then, .. that there were other ways available, there were options. And most importantly of all .. “when we are out” ..


“When. When we are out,” Nal recited back slowly, like a child learning to form the words. To accept the fact. And like a child who has managed this first feat, he smiled, albeit feintly. As the memory of how to do so overcame all that had hindered it. Alright, it was alright. They were going to get out. A nod. Brown eyes blinked some more, as the dust which had never really descended between him and the world at hand .. dissipated. Focus cleared. His friend was here, which meant that he was here. Which meant they were in Gondor. Home. And .. that sort of thing just did not happen in Gondor. This wasn’t ..

“Umbar,” he mentioned, and cast an eye almost reluctantly toward the door. “Out there, He ..,” a swallow and he managed to complete the sentence. “He’s from there, not here. He’s Umbar.” As explanations went, it would likely be more than enough. And it made far more sense than handing Cadil the man’s name, which would likely mean nothing to him. “What is he doing here ?”



Leaning back against the wall he could no longer see, Unalmis sprang forth again as though the contact had burned him. He took another deep breath. Sought with squinted eyes to seize and remove the elusive splinter from one palm. Furrowed his brow as he tried .. to think it out. Or think at all. Because thinking threw out thoughts.

“If it were any other Guard out there,” he groaned aloud at their misfortune, at the realisation that ‘Rip’ was exactly the sort of Guard who wouldn’t care who went through his gate, unless it benefitted him somehow, unless he could work it to his own advantage. If they beat up a ruckus and shouted out to him, warned him just who that man was …. ‘Rip’ would no doubt think it some sort of ridiculous ruse to fashion their escape. He’d never believe them, never even entertain the notion that capturing an agent of Umbar would be good for the sake of the city he was meant to protect. Not if it was them telling him that. Guards didn’t have a tendency to believe anything or anyone that was an inconvenience to them.

So ‘Rip’ was not likely to save the day and arrest the Umbarian. Probably would pat the guy on the back for what he’d done … No, no. Nal forced away that disquieting notion. Not even ‘Rip’ would do that. Still. They couldn’t count on the Guard to actually help. To even do his dratted job. If they called out, it might even incite the revealed Umbarian to resort to some desperate chaos, endangering the innocents in the queue … There had been such a tailback of a queue out there. If they did nothing though, ‘Rip’ would just wave Arkadhur off on his merry way ! That realisation sank the young Ranger at both his knees, threatening to take him back down to the floor. Where would Arkadhur be going anyway ? Why was he here !?! Of all the … luck ?


Because of course, the thoughts began to slowly take shape .. if it had been any other Guard out there, then Nal and Cadil might not have ended up in here. They would be in Harlond by now, enjoying some fun, oblivious to re-emerged Umbarians. And they might never have even known that Arkadhur had ever been in Minas Tirith at all. Perhaps then ‘Rip’ stopping them had even done them a favour in the long run. Because now they knew .. (but he didn’t want to know) .. and now they could do something about it (alright, yes. But what really ?).

Alright. So it had worked out this way so they could do something about it. That’s what Ryndir would have said, Nal decided. He could work with that. He felt stupid now, for having lost himself there. Embarrassed that Cadil had seen it. Adamant that he was going to keep it together. He was here now, after all. Not there. Nothing could hurt him here. This was Gondor. This time he was not some stupid kid. And this time the Umbarian was the one in enemy territory. They would get out of here, and they would stop him. Whatever he was doing here.


Edging toward the narrow window, Nal risked a glimpse, and noted that he could not see the two men now. The wagon was still there though. Voices .. He controlled the pulse of adrenaline which wanted to bellow and pound him about the head with the voices. He knew both of those voices, and the very sound of them .. in tandem .. it grated. The Bad and the Evil. There was not much to work with there. The Ranger closed his eyes and tried to listen .. not sure he wanted to hear what they were saying.

“Sorry,” Nal withdrew, moments later, from where he’d stepped up closer to Cadil, and didn’t quite clarify if he was sorry for crowding him, or for .. what he’d let happen just before. “I don’t think he’s come to let us out of here. Did you say you had a plan ?”

@Rillewen
The Lieutenant remained silent while Duinion spoke. And spoke. And continued to speak.

He was sharing more information with her now than she would have expected. More information even than she would have tried to coax out of him - if he had been as cagey as she'd thought he would be. But whatever his reasons, there was no reluctance this time around. The surprise was a pleasant one, in spite of the situation. And in spite of the feeling that Duinion being so forthcoming had nothing at all to do with him warming up to her at least a little - and much more with him wanting her to realize this was not merely him being an overprotective father. Or, possibly, him distracting himself from losing the calm he had left.

So Domanol had been in the City since the spring already... Hiding. And Duinion had known since April, not telling anyone until Domanol had released him from his oath of secrecy - which had been just the day before. It was impressive, really. While Duinion surely must have been itching to tell people like Eryn, Unalmis, Addhor or Aggie about the return of his long-lost friend. She had noticed Duinion's glance right before he'd emphasized his friend making him promise not to tell anyone about his presence. Arnyn wondered what Duinion was trying to figure out, there. Did he think she would not understand? Or disapprove?

"A man is as good as his word," she said quietly, so only Duinion would catch it. "You've proven you can keep yours." They moved along the trail, and her expression was serious when she momentarily looked at the Tirdinen. "Which makes it valuable. I will make sure to remember that."

The rest of what Duinion was telling them, made the wheels in her mind turn. The Jackal picture indicated it involved the Halsads, or someone in league with them. Targeting Domanol... The Lieutenant resisted the urge to glance over at not only Duinion but also the other rangers. Instead, she kept her dark eyes on the trail. Duinion had shared information with her, as well as his thoughts. She would do the same, although Kaylin, Vorondil and Sarina probably wouldn't be able to overhear everything, given the lower volume of her voice.

"The combination of Halsads with Domanol points to Pharak, rather than any of the others. Pharak or one of his agents or servants. I only know of one such agent, and it would make sense for that man to be able to pull off a convincing impersonation of Unalmis." She briefly made eye contact with Duinion. "Since they have known each other since childhood, he would know much about Unalmis and his family."

Her focus returned to the trail. "Of course, it could be someone else still. Someone else sent by Pharak or seeking to please Pharak, somehow. Someone who knows how badly the priest wants to get his hands on your friend Domanol. The other agent could have told them what they needed to know to impersonate Unalmis. Or, there could be several of them, joined by or merely informed by that agent." The Lieutenant was collected as she presented the options as she saw them. "Yet I'd think the man I have in mind would definitely have involved himself if he had a choice in it. From what I've gathered..." she hesitated briefly, but continued nonetheless, "He'd enjoy things like these." She was referring both to impersonating Unalmis and keeping Eryn from her family. By Manwë, did she hope nothing had happened to the girl.

"Do you know of whom I speak?" She would assume so, but assumptions were a dangerous thing.

@Arnyn
The choice to tell the others about all of this to do with Domanol had nothing to do with Duinion trying to let the lieutenant know that he could keep a secret, nor that he could keep his word. He just wanted her to understand that he wasn't just paranoid-ly jumping to conclusions here about what he believed was happening. He actually had good reasons for what he suspected, and so it was a bit of a relief that the lieutenant didn't seem skeptical about it. In fact, she seemed... quite unsurprised, and possibly even more informed than he was!

Duinion was briefly surprised when she specifically mentioned Pharak, but then he recalled that the name had come up during that meeting when she informed them all about the slaver, Relic. He was mildly surprised she would have remembered that detail, however, especially in relation to Domanol, whom she had never met at that point.

But what surprised him even more was when she mentioned knowing of someone in particular who was actually an agent of Pharak! Duinion looked at her, trying not to let his astonishment show too much, but really, how did she know about this? Furthermore, how did she know and not Domanol?! On top of all that, she was also saying that this person had known Unalmis since childhood? Duinion was both stunned and baffled by this news, and he couldn't help staring at Arnyn in wonder as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. It was evident that she knew what she was talking about, and clearly, she was absolutely serious, yet Duinion found it almost unbelievable. How had Arnyn learned about this? How did he not know about it?

When asked if he knew who Arnyn was talking about, Duinion slowly shook his head. "No idea at all," he replied regretfully, with a hint of confusion in his voice, due to the fact that Arnyn knew this and he didn't. "I didn't properly meet Unalmis until after.." He hesitated and tried not to word it too bluntly, "..after he had recovered from that unpleasant 'adventure'," He explained quietly, frowning slightly. "I've never asked him about any of the friends that he grew up with, though I have heard several of their names.. from someone else." He paused, returning his gaze to scanning the ground. "Unalmis has never mentioned anything to me about anyone he knows having become involved with the Halsads, though." He was a little surprised by that, since Unalmis had told Duinion about the other people who had been involved in his misadventure in Umbar. Like that Arkadhur, and Keket. Those names had come up, but neither of those were people whom Unalmis had grown up with.

"Though, if the person you're thinking of is the same young man that Domanol spoke with," He went on, thoughtfully, "then that means Dom's suspicion was correct. He did wonder if the imposter was working for Pharak, but he had no way to confirm it. He saw the same guy later, in a uniform of the guard... and he learned from another source that the young man who'd impersonated his nephew was actually a very... corrupt guard, if he even is one at all." Duinion wasn't sure whether the source was a hundred percent reliable, but Dom had seemed to find it reliable enough for him.

"How do you know about this agent, when Dom didn't even know it?" He couldn't help wondering, with a glance at the lieutenant. To be honest, he was not sure whether to be impressed or simply baffled.

---

(private)


Merilda was very tired by the time they eventually found the place that Mar seemed to be looking for. Another abandoned house, though this one at least didn't appear to be burned or ruined. She had no idea where they were now. It was beginning to rain, and she was glad to think of being able to spend the night indoors. "Where are we, sir?" She asked tentatively.

Mar sighed as he dismounted, debating for a moment whether to answer the girl. After a moment he figured, why not? “A house long ago abandoned by.. someone."

"Someone you know?" She wondered, unable to help being curious, even if it was a little dangerous with this guy.

"Not personally. But, I’m going to... invite him on an adventure, of sorts.” He smiled in a way that Merilda thought was far from pleasant.

She looked around. “It does look abandoned,” She admitted hesitantly. “But, how do you know it belonged to this person, if you don't know him?” She wondered, confused.

“Because, I’ve done my research." Mar answered shortly, getting a little annoyed.

"Research?" She looked puzzled, trying to imagine how he might have managed such a thing. "Why would you research where someone used to live, whom you don't even know?"

Mar rolled his eyes. "I came across the address for this place in an old guard report at the headquarters a while back, if you must know. You never know when some seemingly useless knowledge might actually become useful. Now quit asking questions.” He snapped, losing patience with her now. "Not that it even matters to you." He grumbled under his breath as he dismounted from his horse. It wasn't like she was ever going to have a chance to repeat any of this, anyway. "Come on, get down.”

She hastened to obey, though it was difficult for her to get down from the horse. She'd told him, when he said she had to ride the stranger's horse, that she didn't know how to ride without a saddle. Getting off of it, she barely managed not to stumble and fall down when her shoes hit the ground.

"Here, take these inside while I put the horses up." Mar demanded, pushing his saddlebags into her arms. "Make yourself useful."

Merilda struggled to carry the heavy bags, but hurried toward the little cabin as ordered. She was a little surprised to find it unlocked, although upon closer inspection, she realized it didn't even have a lock. Rather, it had a little wooden latch inside, which could be opened on the outside by pulling a string that lifted up the latch up on the other side of the door. She was familiar with that sort of thing from the village she called home, and cautiously let herself in and looked around.

While the place had apparently not been lived in for a long time, there was still furniture in each room. Dust-covered sheets covered each piece of furniture, and there were no curtains on the windows. The cabin appeared abandoned, though it also looked as if it had been cleaned only a few weeks ago. She wondered how long ago the people had lived here, and why they had left it, and furthermore, how often they came back to clean. And why? Briefly, she wondered if maybe some the people had died or not. There had been a big war here, after all. After seeing that it wasn't totally abandoned, Merilda decided she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of intruding into a house that belonged to someone else, but she had no say in the matter. She was even less comfortable with spending the night here, now, worrying about if the owner were to come by. She wondered what sort of 'adventure' he was planning for the man who owned the place. And who was he? She sighed, having no further answers, and decided she'd better do as he said, and make herself useful.

While she waited for Mar to come back from stabling his horse, Merilda found a broom in the corner and put it to use. If they were going to stay here, she thought they might as well stay in a clean place, and besides, she had been employed as a maid. Cleaning was her job, not all this strange business that he had dragged her into. It made her feel a bit better to keep busy, although she didn't get to the point of humming while she worked, like she used to do before this miserable adventure began.

When Mar came back in, he stopped in the doorway, surprised to see that Merilda had thoroughly swept and dusted each of the rooms. It had taken him an annoyingly long time to get his horse unsaddled, having to do most of it one handed, and this had given her enough time to do a thorough cleaning by now. Mar had begun to regret sending the girl inside, instead of making her help him. His left arm was hurting considerably by now. Everything he did seemed to hurt, and it was frustrating and made him quite irritable. “Who told you to clean?” He snapped at her. It was raining steadily by now. His clothes were wet from crossing the yard, and he was very unhappy.

Merilda looked up, alarmed. “I.." She began, flustered. "Was I not.. I mean, that’s what I was employed to do, m’lord…” She hastily put down the duster, nervous that she may have made a mistake. "Y-you said to be useful... should I have not done it?" She tensed, unsure whether he would be angry.

Mar scowled and shoved her aside, going to sit at the table in the kitchen. “Whatever.” He grumbled, not even sure if it mattered. “Get over here. I need this bandage changed.” The pain was getting almost unbearable, and he cursed that dumb dog under his breath.

Merilda looked around for something to use, and pulled a sheet from one of the armchairs. She had already dusted it off, so she figured it would work well enough if she cut it into strips. “It’d be better if you let me wash that, sir.” She informed him tentatively, remembering that he had refused to let her take the time to wash it before, when he had her do a quick bandage out of the ruined shirt he'd been wearing.

“Fine. Just do it.” He answered through gritted teeth. He watched her rummage in the cabinet and find a bowl, which she set outside to catch the water.

Before long, she had carefully washed the wound using a bar of soap she’d found in the house, and a bowl of rainwater. Cutting up the sheet into strips, she bandaged the wounds on both his arms more carefully than she had before, and still had quite a bit left from the sheet. After she was done, she cleaned off the table again, so that there were no traces of blood left.

“Put the rest in my bags. We might need it later when it needs changing again.” Mar decided.

"What shall I do with this?" Merilda wondered, looking at the used, makeshift bandage that she'd made from his shirt. It was damp from the rain, stained with blood, and clearly no longer usable as a bandage or anything else.

"Burn it. And, get some food cooking.” He ordered. “You do know how to cook, I hope?”

Merilda nodded slightly. “Yes, m’lord.” She was the eldest of several children at home, and she used to help her mother with all of that sort of thing before coming to work for him, in the hopes of earning extra money to help her family. Taking that job was decision she mostly regretted. “But.. what is there to cook?” She wondered, realizing she had no idea what food supplies they had.

Mar gestured at his saddle bags which he’d brought in. “You’ll find supplies in there.”

Merilda nodded slowly and went to get a fire started in the stove. It hadn’t been used in who knows how long, but there was a small stack of wood beside it, so it was easy enough to get a fire going, and soon she began cooking a simple meal for two.

@Rillewen
Throughout her earlier words Arnyn had noted the changes in the Tirdinen's face. Even though she had only been glancing up at him intermittently, a sudden expression of surprise had made her eyes linger on him. Duinion hid his surprise again rather quickly, but it didn't last long before he gave her another baffled stare, which he then tried to hide again.

Kaylin might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious, but from her viewpoint she couldn't see Duinion's expressions. She was also only catching about half of the conversation between Arnyn and Duinion, but she assumed that once it was relevant enough, Arnyn would inform them all more clearly. Besides, she could always ask questions later, to satisfy her curiosity. Remembering that Duinion feared a trap, she was cautious and most of her attention was still on the area around them. Even if neither Duinion nor Arnyn believed the trap would be on this trail, that didn't mean that it wouldn't be.

Duinion's admission that he did not know whom Arnyn was talking about explained part of the Tirdinen's astonishment. Arnyn was mildly surprised that Unalmis hadn't told Duinion about Trevadir reporting all he knew to her and how it had been a difficult conversation for all three people involved - Trevadir, Unalmis and Arnyn. Didn't Unalmis almost go out to the farm every day? She'd heard someone say that at some point, though she'd forgotten who. Plenty of time had passed. Perhaps Unalmis had simply not wanted to revisit the whole thing. She could imagine the subject of Umbar and all that came along with it wasn't exactly viewed by anyone as relaxing conversation. Dwelling too long or too often on subjects like these... it could pull you down.

This whole thing had threatened Arnyn's own equilibirum a few times. She'd needed all of her inner steel to resist. And Unalmis... he'd lived part of this story. While she hadn't. Mentally, Arnyn shook her head. Focus.

The new information Duinion shared about whom Domanol had met with - the Unalmis impersonator - only confirmed her thoughts. "Yes," she told Duinion, "what you're telling me confirms that the impersonator was the particular individual I already had in mind. The guard." Looking back to the trail, her face darkening, she added: "And he is a guard." Her tone betrayed she was very unhappy with that part, though she did not add her own personal feelings on the matter. This was not the time. Nor had she built the necessary rapport with Duinion to feel comfortable showing those feelings.

"How do you know about this agent, when Dom didn't even know it?"

Duinion's question made Arnyn look up again. Her expression was thoughtful but otherwise neutral. Someone else might have enjoyed Duinion's bafflement, she realized. But she was more focused on the facts and the analysis of the situation as well as the evolving dynamic between the two of them. Duinion... A ranger who did not trust her. Would he find it strange that others did ?

Furthermore, Trevadir had had valid concerns about speaking to her. Concerns about his safetly that did not simply disappear because he had now given the information he had to her. She could not merely use him as a source and then discard him. She would never do such a thing. And if Unalmis had not told Duinion either...

Arnyn's reply to his question therefore took a bit longer than one might expect. But it came nonetheless. "The slave trade in Umbar is a problem," she said a bit more slowly than before, as if she were weighing her words. Because she was. "I have made it my business to learn as much as I can about everything and everyone who plays a major role there. Of course, trying to gather information while staying in Minas Tirith has its limits. So I have far from all the answers, unfortunately."

@Arnyn
Though he didn't know what this information was that Arnyn had been told, it apparently matched up with what he had learned from Domanol. Apparently, this imposter, and the agent she was thinking of, were one and the same. That troubled him, since it proved that Domanol was right in suspecting the imposter was probably sent by Pharak. It seemed that Domanol's fears had been with good reason. And upon hearing that the young man was, in fact, a guard, not just posing as one... Duinion was at a loss for words.

The lieutenant's next explanation made him catch his breath, feeling his heart drop at the words 'slave trade'. So, this agent was not only involved with Pharak, but with all of that, too?! Duinion swallowed. From everything he'd heard from Domanol, and from Unalmis, if Pharak Halsad had Eryn, it could be terrible. He knew she was in very serious danger, and he felt a great urgency to find her as quickly as possible. Every moment that passed was a torment, not knowing if she would even be found at the end of this trail. Perhaps they'd had multiple people involved in her abduction? They could have whisked her off to the temple already, while another pair brought the horses to his old house, and laid a false trail? The knowledge of what that man would do to captives was sickening.

But hearing that the suspected kidnapper was involved in the slave trade as well, Duinion realized that it was also possible that they might have sent the message to make him think she would be found at the temple, but might have actually decided to put her up for sale in some market. She could also end up being sold off to the highest bidder at some auction... finding her then could be nearly impossible. Not to mention the horror stories that he'd heard of how those Umbarian people treat their slaves... he suddenly felt all the more desperate to locate his little girl, before anything terrible happened to her.

With only a tense nod in answer to the lieutenant's comment about how she didn't have all the answers, Duinion kept quiet as he focused his whole attention on finding each piece of the trail. He'd told all he could think of by now, and his thoughts and fears were returning stronger than ever. Just keep following the trail. It was all he could do at this point. The rain had certainly not helped matters, but here and there they could find some indication of a horse passing. He remained quiet for a while as the rangers moved together across the Pelennor, at what felt to Duinion like a painfully slow pace. It felt like the more time that passed, the slimmer Eryn's chances were becoming. There was little else they could do, however, but keep searching for the next sign of the trail to lead them onward.

The two horses had traveled for quite a long way across dry fields, avoiding the roads, as well as any houses or farms that they passed. There hadn't been any rain for several days, so the ground had been rather dry, and therefore hard, until the rain came last night. Leaving tracks in terrain like that was much more difficult than after a fresh rain, and Duinion suspected that was intentional. Probably, only a very skilled tracker would even be able to pick up any signs, so it was a relief that the lieutenant seemed to have the necessary skill level. Between the two of them, they were able to keep moving along, crossing quite a distance. But they had to move on foot, and that slowed them down even more.

---

Eventually, as the morning was wearing away and noon was drawing near, Duinion was beginning to wonder if the trail was going to take them all the way around to the far end of the Pelennor, in a wild goose chase. His ankle was troubling him, but he was determined not to acknowledge it. Eryn needed him, so why should he care about a little pain? He didn't recognize this area of the Pelennor; it seemed somewhat far from the areas he and Dom had explored as a child, and as an adult he had not had any cause to bring him out this way. There were fewer homesteads out this way, and more spread out. Ahead of them was one which had obviously been destroyed during the battle, burned except for the stone walls that still stood. Beyond it, new growth showed a young forest which was trying to recover from the aftermath of the enemy's fires that had ravaged the land only a few years prior.

The trail seemed to lead past the ruins, just as they had done with many other houses dotted across the land, and rather, led straight toward the thicket of untamed new growth beyond. Several charred tree trunks still stood here and there, hints as to the size of the forest that had once been there. Though not as mighty or vast as the land of Ithilien, it had been a sizeable patch of forest there in this corner of the Pelennor, with tall trees that once towered overhead. Now, everything growing there was but a few years old, and none had managed to match his height, yet. If he had not been so focused on finding Eryn, Duinion might have taken a moment to express regret at seeing the sad sight in that these woods had been destroyed. While the thought did register in the back of his mind, the hope that perhaps the tracks there in the forest would be clearer and easier to follow was a more prominent thought in his mind. Another thought that struck him was how easy it would be for assailants to lie hidden in there, hidden by all that thick underbrush. Wordlessly, he glanced at Arnyn, and wondered if she was thinking the same thing as him.

@Ercassie , @Rillewen
Cadil
With Nal, in the guard house at the South Gate
The last day of Autumn (last year)

Cadil watched his friend recover from whatever state of being he had ended up in, trying not to appear too concerned and maintain a composed and slightly relaxed attitude. It did not even enter his mind to tease Nal on what might be perceived as weakness - by their wicked guard. So he decided he should work on making sure there was no trace of despair left in his friend before the man decided to return and see what they were up to.

"Umbar?" he mumbled, inching back a little to let Unalmis have a peek out the window though he now wanted to look out himself. "Up to no good then, I'm sure. Like... a hand and a glove with that guard of ours?"

A frown furrowed Cadil's brow as he looked at Nal thoughtfully. He could not really admit that he had no plans at all except to wait until it pleased Rip to let them out. "Well," he suggested. "I might yell at that guard and inform him that I'm gonna poop all over the room if he ain't gonna let us out. Considering the food and exertion, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume I might get a bad case of runs." Amusement appeared in Cadil's brown eyes. "Wonder if he would care. Breaking the window is also an option of getting attention."

@Rillewen
It was no easy trail. If this had been for leisure, Arnyn would have enjoyed looking for the clues, which only became harder to find as they progressed. She was thankful to have another set of eyes there, eyes that belonged to a ranger who was also advanced at this particular skill. Sometimes it was Duinion who was following the trail, sometimes it was her. Something they saw it together. But always at least one of them saw where the trail was leading back from. Not that the other wouldn't have found it with a bit more time - but time was a precious resource when it came to disappearances and abductions, Arnyn knew.

Kaylin was rather impressed with the Tirdinen and the Lieutenant. She wasn't seeing half of the things they pointed out to each other. Of course, she was on horseback, but... Even when they pointed some of the clues out, she couldn't see understand why they were clearly part of the trail and not... well, just basically what a field would look like anyway? The trail was beyond her skill, that much was obvious. Sometimes, she looked over at Vorondil or Sarina, depending on who she was closest to. At least she'd gotten a few shrugs and headshakes in return. She wasn't alone, then.

As they covered more and more ground, at some point the tracks started getting clearer. Duinion and Arnyn were able to pick up speed, and the other three rangers started seeing the trail in places more clearly as well. "The rain must have been lighter, here," Arnyn murmured, more to herself than to anyone else, although Duinion would have likely been able to overhear. As they approached the burnt out ruins of a house and then passed them by, the trail leading into a young forest, the small trees standing as dwarves to their burned and taller kin, Arnyn frowned pensively as she bit her lips. "If the trail stays this clear," she said slowly, maybe we should mount our horses," she suggested. "If anyone is hiding in that thicket, they will not be able to surprise us as easily. The higher vantage point will work to our advantage." They would also have to stand up to reach them, unless they had hidden spears with them. Meanwhile Kaylin was looking at the burnt out house with an unhappy expression. Her gut seemed to twist looking at it. She'd never liked the idea of a house burning down - the people living there possibly still locked within...

They looked at the start of the trail in the thicket and found it was indeed clear enough to see from atop their horses. Arnyn did not wait to see what Duinion would do, and reclaimed her seat atop Nársulë. After they ventured deeper into the small forest, at some point the trail split. One horse's tracks lead to one tree. The other tracks led to another. There were several yards in between. The Lieutenant dismounted again, frowning at the grassy soil as she crouched down low. It blocked Kaylin's view of the area the Lieutenant was apparently taking a closer look at. "Check the immediate perimeter," Arnyn soon ordered Kaylin and Vorondil. "And check the branches of that and that tree first. Sarina, you stay here and keep your bow at the ready."

"Duinion," the Lieutenant said thoughtfully. "I could use your eyes with this." She gestured at a smushed area of grass. "Someone sat down here. And more importantly..." Her hand indicated an entirely different sort of tracks. She looked up expectantly at Duinion from her crouched position. "Hattie?"

Kaylin cleared her throat from over by one of the trees Arnyn had indicated. "One of the horses might have been tied here for a bit," she said, rather confidently. Thûllir had told her what to look for. "Buttercup's hooves tramples around this area, as if she'd been standing in place. And there are scuff marks on a thicker, lower branch. From tying the reins to it."

Vorondil chimed in after that. "The bigger horse stood here. I don't see anything on the branches, though."

(Private)


Footsteps approached, after what must have been an hour or so. Merilda looked up, slightly alarmed. Seeing that it was Lord Ansellidus(as she knew him), she wasn’t sure whether to relax or remain tensed, as it wasn’t actually all that reassuring to see him coming toward her. Yet, perhaps that meant that her wait was over? She hoped so. She watched him draw nearer, wondering what she should expect. He carried something that looked like a garment of green cloth in one hand, which he tossed across his saddle before turning toward her. Merilda caught her breath in shock as she saw his left arm hanging limply by his side, covered in blood. His sleeve was all ripped up and blood-stained. “What is that on your head?” He stared at the circlet of braided leaves she wore on her head.

Merilda hesitated, a little awkward as she absently rubbed her fingers. “Um.. nothing, I just.. I was keeping occupied, sir.” She mumbled as she quickly dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed for how silly it probably looked. She had only just finished it, and had placed it on her head with a little bit of pride at having completed it. Working with those leaves, with their short stems, had been a bit of a challenge, and now it felt as if she were being reproached. Big surprise. She kept her gaze down, clasping her hands together in her lap. It wasn’t often that she had time to sit and idle away, as she usually spent her time cleaning or helping those more important than herself.

“Well, quit wasting time. I need you to help me search.” He snapped.

“Search?” Merilda asked, confused and nervous. “Search for..what exactly?”

“A cylinder,” He replied impatiently. “Leather.. like for holding a scroll or map in.” He described. “I’ve got to find it quickly, and I don’t even know where to begin to look.”

Merilda blinked in surprise to hear this. “Oh..!” She reached down to the tube that the dog had dropped. It had been hidden from view by the bushes near her, and partially by her skirt. “Is… is this what you want to find, sir?” She asked tentatively.

Mar stared incredulously at the servant girl. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He walked closer and snatched it from her hand, gave her a slightly astonished glance, then quickly opened the cap to look inside. Seeing the rolled up papers inside, he sighed in relief and stuck the cap back on. He looked down at the girl. “Well, how about that… you’ve just saved me a lot of time.” He was both surprised, and a little impressed. “It seems you are somewhat useful. Occasionally.”

Merilda was quite surprised.. was that actually a compliment? She regarded him somewhat warily and rubbed at her temple, where one of the leaves was tickling it.

“Although, that makes me wonder,” He added, frowning slightly. “How did you come by this?”

“Oh.. well, there was a dog,” Merilda answered hesitantly. “She just… showed up, and dropped it. Then she.. took off again.” She decided to leave out the part about her playing with the dog, and petting it.

Mar frowned, nodding, then muttered under his breath. “I knew I should’ve killed that dumb mutt.”

“Killed her?” Merilda’s eyes widened in slight horror. “What for?”

“Nevermind, it’s too late now anyway.” He grumbled. “But forget about that.” He frowned at the girl. “Come on. I have a lot more to do before we’re done here. And I need bandaging,” He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet, without caring that the circlet of leaves on her head slipped off and fell to the ground.

“But.. m’lord, I haven’t got any bandages.” She frowned.

“Then use strips of cloth from your dress, stupid.” He retorted.

Merilda hesitated, reluctant to have to do that. And she didn’t dare ask what happened to his arm. It looked like a dog-bite… and the other was gashed open from a single, clean cut, like from a knife. “What about that, m’lord?” She suggested, with a glance at the green cloth he had brought back.

“No. I’ll need that later.” He shook his head, but then thought better of having her tear up her dress. She still had to come into town, and pass by guards. “Nevermind, this will work..” He decided, realizing there was plenty left of his shirt that could be used. “Help me get out of this shirt.” He ordered.

Merilda struggled not to make a face, and went over to assist him with the shirt, then followed him a little way past his horse, to a charred log lying on the ground that she hadn’t noticed before. She could’ve been sitting on that like a bench, instead of the ground, but oh well. Petting the doggy had been worth it. She didn’t dare ask if she could use a knife to cut the shirt into strips, so instead, she tore it as well as she could. Then she used the water from one of his canteens to rinse as much of the blood from his arm, before wrapping it as well as she could. Once she had finished bandaging both of his arms, she hesitated as she waited for further instructions.

Mar tossed the bloody scraps of shirt under a bushy fern and grabbed Merilda up by the arm. He winced a little, finding that his right arm hurt, too. “Let’s get out of here.” He pushed her toward his horse. "Get on."

“Are we going into the city now?” She wondered, pausing. “What about..” She hesitated and glanced toward the burned house, which she could just barely see from here.

“What about what?” He frowned at her.

“Well… I..I heard a girl, I thought she screamed, or..”

“You didn’t hear anything.” He told her sternly. “Forget whatever you heard.”

“Yes, m’lord..” She mumbled, looking down nervously.

Mar sighed. “Yes, we are going into the city. And you’ll follow my orders exactly, if you don’t want anything to happen to your family.” He reminded her.

“Of course, sir,” She nodded anxiously.

“Good. Now, come on.” He pushed her toward his horse again.

“What..what about that horse?” She wondered, remembering what she had been going to ask.

An idea had already formed concerning that other horse, as Mar had returned from where he had hidden the girl and the dog. Months ago, when he was tasked with impersonating Unalmis to learn what he could about Pharak’s enemy, Mar had taken the time to figure out everything he needed to know about his own enemy, Unalmis, and his family. Without having gained much information from Domanol, he'd expanded his search to include the man’s most trusted friend. Considering the two had once been as close as Nal and Ryn and Trev, he had begun to wonder if he could find a way to put that information to use against Domanol. In fact, he recalled once hearing that the blood brother thing had first been Domanol and Duinion’s idea, which the later generation had copied.

After it became clear that posing as Nal had failed and he wasn’t going to be able to keep that up, he had spent some time digging into whatever he could find that might help him accomplish Pharak's assignment. He knew that Domanol had once been a guard, and that his own father had some grudge against him, so he'd begun looking into old reports, hoping to find something he could use.

It had been a slight surprise when he came across an old file concerning Duinion. A report about him threatening and nearly assaulting a neighbor! The guards had ultimately dismissed the case when it became clear that the neighbor had been trying to take his daughter away to send her to the orphanage, claiming that he was an unfit father. At the time, Mar had wondered if he could make use of the information somehow, but eventually he had decided it was too old to be of any use, the guards had found it an open and shut case, and she was too old now to be taken away on those same grounds. Boring.

Now, he was remembering that file. Not so much the file, but the ranger’s former address. Finding that had made Mar curious, and he had gone out to find the place, to see if it was still there. In fact, he’d half expected to find Domanol hiding out there, figuring that since Duinion didn’t still live there, he might offer to let his ‘brother’ use it for a while. But he had found it empty and abandoned. He’d left it as he found it on that occasion, but now he was thinking of a way he could put that place to good use.

“We’ll be back for the horse,” He informed Merilda. He smiled at her. “You’re going to ride it to the next destination.”

Merilda glanced at the horse, and back to him. “M’lord, I..don’t know how to ride without a saddle..” She informed him, nervous.

“It’s simple enough. You just sit on the horse and don’t fall off. I’ll lead it.” He rolled his eyes, and motioned toward his horse. “Get on. First we’ll be going to the city, anyway.” Having grown up here in the Pelennor, he knew the way to the city and he knew every farm and homestead between here and the gates. He also knew of places not too far from the city where he could hide his horse and walk the rest of the way to the gate. That would save him a lot of time, and time was something he was getting a bit short on by now.

---

@Arnyn
The lieutenant's suggestion to mount the horses again caught him a little by surprise. Duinion saw the sense in it, once she had explained her thinking, but they had been on foot for so long by now, he'd nearly forgotten that he and Arnyn even had horses with them. He looked ahead to the thicket, then nodded to himself as he took hold of Buttercup. At the farm when he mounted, he'd taken no time to think, had been in a rush, and had not been on his feet for hours. He experienced slightly more difficulty this time, as he slowly pulled himself up without the benefit of momentum to help him spring up onto the horse. But he managed. His ankle was glad for the rest. It was mostly healed by now, but that had been a lengthy walk, and it was hurting.

He was grateful that the rain had not hit as heavily here. And in the thicket of young growth, there was much more than just tall grass for the horses to have passed through. There were more signs to follow, as a result. The thickness of the small, dense trees and bushes also meant that less of the rain had made it to the ground, thus preserving more of the signs that the rangers were looking for. The sun had climbed higher by now, and dried off most of the moisture left over from the night's rainfall. All of that combined meant that the tracks weren't as difficult to see here.

He expected the tracks to cut straight through the woods, just as they had done with everything else they'd passed so far. But to his surprise, it wasn't long before they reached a place where the trees grew less densely, and the trail.. stopped. At last, some sort of progress! Duinion slid down again, ignoring his ankle's protests as he found himself on his feet once more. While Kaylin and Vorondil went to investigate the trees the lieutenant had pointed out, Duinion was surveying the ground attentively. What had happened here?

The plants grew densely, but it was obvious that someone had lingered here. They hadn't just passed through. The horses had been here for some time, though it was hard to say exactly how much time. On the first, he avoided moving around so not to disturb any of the tracks. He wanted to see everything that he could, before taking a single step. After he'd taken in all of what he could see from where he stood, Duinion slowly moved around the edges of the tracks, and crouched near where Arnyn was. His hopes rose despite his attempts to keep them firmly locked away. Dog prints! "I.. think so, yes," He murmured, trying not to get too excited. These paw prints could belong to another dog of a similar size, of course, but... he wanted to believe it was Hattie. He gazed thoughtfully at the ground, his gaze following the paw prints. "It looks like she came from that way, ran up to whoever was sitting here.. then rolled around on the ground, there." He pointed out. "Someone sitting here was giving her attention, if I had to guess," He smiled faintly at the thought. Could it have been Eryn? "Then," he turned, following the prints. "she ran that way." he considered for a moment. "Could mean nothing.. she might have seen a squirrel, or smelled something curious, or just.. anything." He sighed as he thought about how easily distracted Hattie could be, and returned his attention to the grass where the person had been sitting.

His gaze moved to a circlet of leaves that had tumbled to the ground, but he made sure not to touch it. "I'd guess it was a girl sitting here," That seemed like the sort of thing a girl would do, as he couldn't really imagine many boys sitting and braiding leaf stems together to make something to adorn their heads. Besides, a girl would match up with the shoeprints they had found at his own house. But why those leaves? He frowned, his gaze shifting then to a boot print pressed into the ground. "The man was here, too." He mentioned darkly. He considered the print, the way the weight looked like it was mostly in the ball of foot and toes. "Leaned forward, maybe.. to pull her upright?" He tried to guess, thinking of the proximity. Without venturing so close as to mess up the tracks, he stood in the same position and mimicked as if he were reaching down to pull someone up from a seated position. "Probably roughly, I would guess," He motioned to the braided circlet of leaves that was discarded nearby. "I'd guess the girl who was seated here had put that on her head. It looks like the right size for a head, doesn't it? Unless she tossed it down, herself.. but it looks to me more as if it fell haphazardly." He shrugged, having no proof for this theory, but it made sense to him.

"However," he sighed. "It was not Eryn." He was certain of that, after seeing the leaves braided together. "She would know better than to touch poison ivy." Trying to keep his disappointment from showing too much, he looked around thoughtfully. "It looks like they went this way," He mentioned, moving toward where the bigger horse had been tied.

Private with @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Casting eyes about the room was a quiet cocktail of looking for inspiration, while avoiding his friend’s expression. Nal tightened and loosened his fingers around the knife in one hand, opened and closed his fist of the other, as though flexing the muscle would somehow work the splinter out. He could feel it in there still, a nagging, present .. nuisance. Like their current situation ..

A hand and a glove, the Guard and the Umbarian, it was an apt observation that Cadil had voiced. And a situation which they would have to try and separate. The consequent outline of his plan however .. caught the Ranger offguard and he stared outright at the other young man, before suddenly emitting a burst of laughter. It might have been a nervous outpouring of energy, but still Cadil's suggestion of even claiming such a ‘mess’ at all broke the tension somewhat. And Nal’s face relaxed from the wall of frozen thought into a small smile. He shook his head, and was more glad than he could say that he was not facing this alone.


“Alright, alright .. so ..” he began, as though considering the merits of the ‘poop’ plan. Leaning forward, the Ranger brought each hand against contact with one of his knees, as though he was going to vomit. But did not. In a small amount of time, he realised this was not quite a kind assignment of the small space which they both were sharing. So he slowly took his turn at sitting down on the chair Cadil had vacated before.

“If we break the window, he will have a real charge of damage to city property that he can add to his allegations,” he deliberated, raising up the thumb of his empty hand to chew upon it’s end. “Which he absolutely will not hesitate to write us up for. Threats of our discomfort in here probably won’t move him ..." His thoughtful contemplation broke anew at Cadil's poop idea. "You’re right though, we do need to get his attention somehow; to make him think we’re doing something he really wouldn’t want us to be doing. So much that he has to come and open the door to stop us.” Brown eyes raked over the wanted posters which he’d scanned and dismissed when first he had come into the gatehouse. “Maybe we can risk breaking the window, like you say, given the urgency of .. things ?" Nal revisited Cadil's less amusing suggestion. Though with rather little acknowledgement of how unusually fast he was personally talking. "At the worst, he couldn't deny that it was broken before he'd locked us in here, not if it's broken from the inside. It leaves evidence that he was a jerk without cause. And maybe we will be able to hear better what they're saying. If the noise disturbs their conversation, we can certainly be better heard through a broken window, if we want to start shouting things that will make him rush over to quiet us."


If you make too much noise, they will cover the hole ..

Nal managed a long blink, as he sought to put the pressing memory to some use. Using the knife then, to try to dig out the splinter from his hand, might not have been the wisest courses of action, particularly in the poor light. But it helped Unalmis to focus, and removed a distraction finally, when he had separated enough of his palm skin with the sharp blade, to prise the small sliver of wood out. Holding it up between two fingers, he beheld it as though the tiny irritant was the answer to all questions. Which was sadly not the case at all.

But did they want to risk attracting Arkadhur's attention ? He'd have to let Cadil do the yelling, or otherwise risk Arkadhur recognise his voice. There was no problem there of course. His friend had certainly proving that he was quite capable of getting under the Guard's skin ..


“I wish I knew how to pick a lock,” he idled then, rather randomly, stowing the flimsy splinter in a pocket all the same. Anything could be made use of. Always. “The door opens outwards,” he remembered, as though his erratic train of thought might be self evident, which was unlikely. “If we can get him to come over and open it, then we can hold on to the door from this side when he tries to pull it and then we let it go suddenly, so the impetus will have it strike him, hopefully hard, and give us an advantage to break past.” He stood up and then sat back down again as though he’d risen too fast. His gaze raked over the wallpaper of wanted posters, and the logbook which was still hanging on it's string from the small shelf.

"What if we start throwing a bunch of paper out of the window, if we give him the impression that it's something important which he wouldn't want blowing all over the Pelennor ...?" he proposed. Not the wanted posters then. They'd just be doing the Guard's job for him, by spreading that. But the log book ... "If we can find some ink to scribble on some of the blank pages, we tear them out of the back of this book and 'Rip might believe that we're actually flinging his office's directions and updates out of the window for all the world to see .. ?"

Private with @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

“I agree,” the driver pulled up his wagon to a stall, and met Ademar’s good mood with a firm decision not to let that rattle him. The Gondorian seemed to be manning the South Gate, this final obstacle to fleeing Minas Tirith proper, all by himself. Which, to an optimistic person, meant that the City Guards who must be seeking for Shamara had hopefully been led to congregate their efforts in another direction. Rather than, what a pessimistic person might suspect, that there were guards even now laying in wait someplace here out of sight, ready to seize him as an accomplice as soon as the gatekeeper pointed him out.

Arkadhur was not an optimistic person. He had of course meant to make use of the recent ‘Widow’ Lowendir to ensure just that sort of a distraction, somewhere abouts in the opposite direction to the one he would be taking. If officials were looking for Shamara by now, as by rights they ought to have been, then odds are they would have been quick to investigate a suspicious assault on a local woman who, he would have made sure would have been rendered long past able to tell who was really responsible. But that particular option had been closed to him when what was left of his captive had not been found where he’d left her. Being the one who tended to 'tidy up' the mess after others, it was a new experience to have found all trace of his own mess thus .. vanished, without his having orchestrated it. The loss of control was not something that he appreciated. It was like carrying a large basket of fruit and only finding that they'd all tumbled out and been lost through a hole, when you'd reached your destination and had no supper to show for the trek.

“Call me greedy, but even good days leave room for improvement,” he replied thus, as light about his tone as the other had been. He could certainly think of a few ways that his circumstances might be improved today. But for now he had to keep his wits about him, and not assume that escape was even at this point, guaranteed. He had already learnt the hard way that he could not even count on what he'd started with, even if he had been provided with a 'substitute'.


Arkadhur was not used to carrying a dagger, for all that he had kept the weapon visible when hoping to intimidate his more recent pair of captives. But it would not do to be seen wielding such a thing here, in a queue close by a busy gate. Instead of intimidation, he would evoke only unwanted attention, far more of it than he was likely to be able to throw off. So for all the threats he had shared with Cali, the Umbarian was not fool enough to have the weapon on his person now. If it came down to it, he was far more adept with other means of self preservation than any kind of physical combat. And though he surpassed Ademar in height, still he suspected that the Gondorian could take him down in a fight if it came to that. The stupid smith girl had even managed to get a blow in, after all. Subconsciously he wiped the low of his nose, as he had done far too often since he'd wiped away the blood. Somehow he could still taste the metallic tang and imagined it might appear somehow as apparent to anyone who had no way of knowing, as it did to him in his concern.

It was certainly not the first injury he'd sustained in his life, nor likely to have any lasting impact. But it had been another unwelcome surprise. Keket had never been fool enough to teach Arkadhur how to fight back, or to fight at all. That was not what was required of him. And there was no way that a man like Ademar either would have handed him a weapon, not without an ulterior motive. He must have known the Umbarian was not exactly adept with them. The remains of the Widow Lowendir’s now-stumped fingers could attest to that much. Arkadhur lacked the precise surgical aptitude that Keket had practiced, primed, for exactly that sort of a recreation. His mind was sharp, keen, but his hands were used to baser works.


“You know how it goes,” the Umbarian remarked then, his voice dropping to a further hush as he mirrored the Guard’s example and met him at the rearside of the wagon. “You win some, you lose some.” he met Mar’s eye with a meaning that man should find hard to miss. “These little beauties will be missed though,” Drawing himself up onto the back of the wagon, Arkadhur tapped one of the empty barrels, which sounded back an empty echo and faint splash. Then he tapped the flat of his hand against a second barrel, flanked further in. The sound was undisputably not the same. “If I don’t get them to where they can be safely unloaded before they spoil,” he made clear his understanding.

“Care to put in an eye ?” Arkadhur invited the ‘Guard’ to join him on the wagon and see what sort of a bribe was on offer. What he had to offer was not of course what the Gondorian had asked for. But the Umbarian believed he could still sell it all the same. Umbar was the capital of haggling, and everything had it's price. If Ademar was going to try and sell Arkadhur downriver, here, then the emergence of two young women who would never ever believe their old foe's innocence in the matter was as much a boon as any plan B could provide. And he had plans as far at least as far as H already. At the very least ..

@Rillewen
"So we might assume this was the girl whose shoeprints we saw at your old house," Arnyn surmised, following Duinion's line of thought. "If his bootprints go to the bigger horse, and end there, we can assume that is where he mounted. And that they then made their way to your cabin." She almost supposed without looking that there would also be signs of the girl moving toward Buttercup. Unless there were clear prints saying something very different, that assumption would likely stay with the Lieutenant. That meant they knew what had happened from here. But what about before ?

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by Vorondil. "There are several tracks coming and going here, I think. The man definitely came up to the horse more than once. I think he might have come here, doubled back..." He gestured back toward where Arnyn was positioned. "And then later the bootprints return? And seem to... end?" He didn't sound entirely sure and shrugged lightly. "The return doesn't come along the same path though... or at least that's what it looks like to me, anyway. I think the girl was with him, maybe."

Arnyn did not approach, since Duinion already was. She narrowed her eyes, thinking. The horses and the girl clearly spent time here. Whether the man had spent much time here was a question mark. There were no signs of it anywhere near where the girl was sitting. The Lieutenant circled outward, carefully - in order not to disturb the existing tracks. She could see no signs of a man sitting or lying down anywhere near here. Perhaps Duinion would find something further off. Arnyn stared at the prints. "If the horses waited here, with the girl... Perhaps the man stepped away. And if Hattie was here... but not Eryn... Perhaps the man was with Eryn while the other girl was waiting. We need to see if his bootprints lead away from here," she thought out loud.

@Arnyn
Duinion took a careful moment to study the imprints of the boot in the ground, where Vorondil said that they were most frequent. The man had indeed come to his horse at least twice, and at least one time it looked as if the girl had been there, too. It did look as if they had both mounted the bigger horse from this point. That didn't quite make sense, considering the trail that brought the rangers here had been made by both horses, but perhaps there was an explanation. Although the prints were a little jumbled, the horse had been tied in a spot where the ground was more exposed, which showed the prints nicely. And, since it had not rained as much here, Duinion was able to read these prints much better than anything they might have found at his house, at least, from before the rain. He considered everything after the rain to have been mainly for show, intended to lead them where this man wanted them to go.

"His prints aren't very deep," Duinion mentioned, hopeful. "Which seems to imply to me, that he was carrying no extra weight when he came here." He had worried that the man might have carried Eryn slung across the saddle, but he suspected that these prints would have sunk deeper than this, if he had been carrying another person. Even Hattie.

Silently, he followed the tracks beyond where the big horse had been tied, where Vorondil said the tracks had seemed to end. Indeed, the forest did a good job of swallowing up any further sign of the man's passage, but this concerned Duinion. What if it was important? He ventured another step further, letting his eyes scan the area. There must be something. Why would he go this way and then stop and come back? He considered a few possibilities, dismissing each systematically, until his gaze landed on a thick, charred log lying on the ground; all that was left of what might have once been a mighty oak. Duinion wondered, could he have stepped up onto this, and walked down its length, attempting to hide his tracks from anyone who might come here looking for them?

On a hunch, Duinion moved closer to the log, while Arnyn began circling around in search of any tracks that might show where the man had been before reuniting with his accomplice here in the woods. He examined the surface for any scuff marks, or other indications that someone might have climbed up and walked along it, like a bridge over the thick underbrush. It was a bit of a long shot, he knew, but he was hoping to find a trail that might lead them to Eryn.

Instead, he caught a glimpse of something that didn't quite belong there. Crouching, he pushed back the fronds of a bushy fern, and frowned as he realized what it was he had found. A chunk of cloth had been carelessly tossed aside. It was ripped up and bloodstained, and it matched the cloth he had found partially burned in the stove. Duinion managed to maintain a calmer expression this time as he took it by one edge and lifted it up so they could all have a look at his find, as he turned back to face them.

"I think you may have been right, Lieutenant," He commented thoughtfully. "This must have belonged to the man," He looked over to catch her eye. "The cloth certainly doesn't match any clothing Eryn owns, yet it looks like a sleeve off of a garment. A shirt, most likely, but a bigger size than what Eryn wears. And look," He couldn't help a faint smile as he pointed out the way the cloth was ripped, "something rather unpleasant happened to whomever was wearing it." He wondered if Eryn had anything to do with that.

@Ercassie @Pele Alarion
The shenanigans of the evening before had rather annoyed Mar. He had expected Arkadhur to play his part in the plan, rather than sending some other fellow in his place. He was still not pleased with him, and really, the only reason Mar had gone through with it all, was because he'd already invested time and effort into getting as far as he did, before finding out he'd been left to do it himself. Also the fact that having the umbarian woman loose would indeed prove a useful distraction.

It wasn't as if he needed Arkadhur's help in breaking Shamara out, as he had clearly proven, but the fact is, he would've rather known exactly where the man was, and what he was doing. Seeing him show up here again, as if nothing had happened, all of those thoughts flashed through his mind again. But he buried it down deep. Let him believe Mar wasn't upset. He could act. Mar could put on just as good a performance here as he did back there in the dungeon, or any of the many times he'd impersonated his brother. He wore a casual smile as he nodded in answer to Arkadhur's comment about how the day could always be improved. "Indeed," he answered cordially. "I felt the same way yesterday evening," He added pointedly, raising an eyebrow slightly. Would he catch that hint?

Mar's interest was piqued a moment later, when the Umbarian mentioned 'these little beauties'. These beauties? That would imply more than one of something.. possibly girls? The eyebrow came up again, only slightly, but this time for a different reason. Hearing the difference in sound as the man tapped different barrels, Mar regarded him curiously before taking a thoughtful look at his load. So, some were empty, but others.. were not. And he was inviting Mar to take a look inside?

A thought struck him suddenly, and he gave the man a rather stern look. "I should warn you, sir, that no illegal contraband is allowed through these gates, in or out." He informed Arkadhur, in a similar tone to that which Ric might use. He didn't raise his voice, but he did keep it at a normal speaking volume. "I do hope that whatever is in these barrels follows those regulations. We are very strict about those sorts of things, here, sir." He watched for his reaction, briefly. "It is the policy to inspect every container which passes through this gate, of course." He added matter-of-factly, in answer to the remark about taking a look inside.

"I will have to inspect your cargo, sir." He said, in case his prior comment wasn't clear enough. Of course, he was dying to know what was in there, but for one thing, he had to play so that everyone else in the line would be able to see him 'doing his job'. But also, because he wanted to make Arkadhur sweat a little. It served him right, after ditching him to have to work with that other guy in the dungeon. The one who had immediately fled the moment they were out of the dungeon, like an idiot. Not to mention, Ark hadn't even used the code word just now, to make sure that Mar was, in fact, Mar, so.. yes. Let him sweat a bit and wonder if he'd made a mistake.

Climbing up onto the wagon, he indicated the barrel that had not sounded empty. "So. Let's have a look inside, shall we?" Acting as a guard who would definitely not approve of what Arkadhur had implied was in those barrels, he indicated for Arkadhur to do whatever was needed to enable him to inspect his cargo, then waited for Arkadhur to comply with the order. He really did want to take a look into the barrel... and see what sort of 'gift' the man had brought to him.

@Rillewen
She looked over when Duinion spoke. He was saying it looked like she'd been right? Some tiny and deeply hidden part of her mind vaguely wondered whether saying such a thing might physically hurt the man. Arnyn assessed the cloth. She frowned. Lots of rips. Plenty of blood. "So," she instantly jumped to the next conclusion, "He went from his horse to the girl, then back towards his horse to go to the log...to rip that off? And probably take a look at the wounds on his arm. Then he and the girl returned to his horse, yes? The tracks match that idea?" Vorondil half nodded, half shrugged. Arnyn briefly shared a look with Duinion. He seemed to accept the hypothesis.

Her attention returned to what she'd been doing. Her circles were growing, until something caught her eye and she halted. The Lieutenant took a deep breath and let it back out with a little sigh as she crouched down, moving over a small twig and a leaf. "Boots," she mumbled, eyes narrowing on the faint impressions into the grass and soil of the young forest around them. "We should back-track him," she mumbled. "I want to know where he was while the girl waited." Standing once more, she looked back at Duinion. "You are her father. Do you agree on this?"

@Arnyn
The fact that Arnyn's thoughts about the scorched cloth had been more accurate than Duinion's first, panicked thoughts, was actually a relief to him, though he still had no idea what had actually occurred here. Deciding that they probably didn't need the ruined sleeve, he laid it across the log and returned to where Vorondil stood. He looked again at the tracks the other ranger had mentioned. "Yes," He agreed thoughtfully. "Came to his horse.. to get something from his bags, maybe?" He guessed. "Medical supplies, I would guess. Bandages, if he was smart enough to have any with him." It made sense, why he would stop at his horse, then go to someplace he could sit, if his arm was as bad as the sleeve would imply. "He probably couldn't do it alone, so had to ask.." He paused, thinking of how he'd assessed the tracks where the girl was sitting. Hadn't he said it looked like he might have pulled her up, roughly? "or, perhaps demanded.. the girl to assist." He concluded quietly, with a thoughtful frown.

He was thinking about that as he ventured back toward where Arnyn was. He wished he knew who these people were, and what had actually happened here. Was the girl an accomplice, or possibly an unwilling participant? He sighed softly as he looked down at where she had been sitting. Hattie's tracks were all over this spot, too. Or, a dog's were. Not necessarily Hattie, he reminded himself. It could have been another dog, but he was hoping that it was Hattie, since that might mean they were that much closer to finding Eryn. Or, some sign of her.

When Arnyn located more boot tracks, Duinion looked up, then nodded. "Yes," He replied firmly. "I want to know where he came from, just before arriving here." He declared. "And how he got that injury, too..." He felt that the answers to those questions must somehow lead them to Eryn. "The dog set off that way, too," He commented, intrigued by that fact, while careful not to label the pawprints as definitely belonging to Hattie. "It was running," He paused. "Of course, that doesn't really mean anything," He acknowledged as he moved alongside the paw print tracks. It could mean the dog had spotted a rabbit or squirrel, and had taken off after it.

The paw print trail crossed the boot prints at one point, and both trails seemed to be moving in the same direction, but not with the exact same destination in mind. And, of course, the boots were coming from somewhere else to here, while the paw prints were coming from here to somewhere else.

Considering how much a dog like Hattie was prone to just run around for no particular reason than for fun, Duinion was more interested in the boots, since the person wearing them had clearly had something to do with this whole thing. Probably everything to do with it, in fact. Working alongside Arnyn, Duinion followed the trail as it cut through the young forest and headed straight toward the burned house. He frowned, wondering what they might find, there. His own house had survived the raiding orc party because he had prepared in advance, and made a firebreak all around the woods surrounding his property so that it would be safe unless the enemies specifically set fire to it. But the place had been well enough out of their way that it hadn't been bothered, thankfully. This place had not been so fortunate.

The tracks became a little harder to see as they left the forest and crossed the open ground, which might have once been a plowed field where a farmer grew crops. It was overgrown, and the dirt hadn't been worked in some years so it wasn't as loose or rich as it might have been, but neither was it as hard packed as the average ground. Some prints were visible here and there, and these led them straight toward the ruined structure. And right to... a gaping hole in the ground, nestled alongside the house's side wall. Stone framed the sides of the hole, forming walls that were swallowed up in darkness below. Crumbling steps, also made of stone, showed a way in and out of the hole, but the doors that had once covered the hole were burned away to nothing.

Duinion abruptly stopped a couple of yards away, when it became clear that the boot tracks had emerged from the depths of this hole. A cellar, actually, not just a hole. A sickening smell of old decay wafted up from the darkness, suddenly overpowering his senses with memories of another cellar he'd tried so hard to forget. Feeling unable to breathe for a moment, he caught his breath while one hand involuntarily came up to cover his nose and mouth. Hazel eyes stared at the opening. There was a growing sense of dread knotting up in his stomach, and he felt his pulse speeding up at the sight and smell before him. His feet were suddenly unwilling to move another step. Why did it have to such a place as that?

Almost without realizing it, he had taken a step back, though he hadn't even gotten closer than a couple of yards. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the horrible hole. "S-something.. is dead..." He forced the words out with a bit of difficulty. The words were uttered almost too quietly to be heard. What he couldn't find the words to say, was that he couldn't quite bear the thought of who or what was in there, making that awful smell. His greatest dread was that they might have found Eryn.. in the worst possible sense of the word 'found'.

---

Private - solo post



“Thank you so much for letting me sleep here.” Trastion winced as he leaned down to put his bedroll on the ground, near the campfire that was burning low. Duinion's outdoor living area surprised him slightly, and yet he thought it seemed like an excellent set up. When the suggestion was made that he ought to see about joining Duinion for the duration of his banishment from the Barracks, Trastion had realized the sense in this, and was very grateful to the Tirdinen for agreeing to it.

Duinion nodded, hiding a little smile. “No problem. I heard you’ve had a rough couple of days. And, I figure it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra watchman around here, after.. everything.” He shrugged slightly. It was a reasonable enough excuse, if the lieutenant had any sort of protest about him letting Trastion sleep here until he was allowed back at the barracks. He couldn’t see any reason why she would object, though.

As for himself, Duinion felt more at ease, knowing the young man was sleeping someplace safe and that he was at least getting regular meals, and keeping warm enough at night. Even though he'd been camping in the Training ground's woods, Duinion still preferred to be able to know he wasn't out there by himself. Especially seeing what a difficult time he was having just moving around. While he didn't expect there to be any enemies out there, there were other factors to consider. If he was too exhausted to bother lighting a fire, for example, and the temperature dropped overnight, he might have hypothermia before he realized it was a problem. Or, he might light a fire and then fall asleep, and it could get out of control while he was too weary to wake up and notice... there were just so many ways that even an experienced woodsman could get into danger when they were as weary and overworked as Trastion appeared to be.



Trastion groaned, lowering himself down to the ground. “The worst.” He agreed. He couldn’t even bring himself to unroll the bedroll, yet. They had just arrived from retrieving his gear from his camp in the training grounds, and he was extra grateful to Duinion for having gone along to help him carry it all. “And I have to be back again tomorrow.” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’d be any good as a watchman, but I’ll try my best.”

Duinion couldn’t help feeling rather sympathetic to the young man, but was careful not to let that show. “At least, staying here, you don’t have to worry about catching your own food, or starting a fire. Or cooking it.” He mentioned quietly. “What time do you have to be back tomorrow?”

“Dawn.” Trastion felt he could hardly move. His arms, legs, stomach... everything was aching. even muscles he'd never even thought about. “This is…” He shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know. I didn’t quite expect it to be this intense.”

“Is this part of your punishment?” Duinion asked with a slightly puzzled frown. “I heard about.. the incident.” He explained. Most likely, everyone had heard about that.

Trastion blinked up at the sky, hesitating briefly. “No, it’s just part of my training.” He answered, feeling too sore and stiff to even think about trying to sit up again, now that he was down.

Duinion frowned to hear this. It didn’t sound right to him. He thought for a moment. “How long have you been at this?”

“Two days.” Trastion mumbled.

“And your.. incident was two days ago.” Duinion raised an eyebrow. It didn’t sound unrelated to him. The timing seemed rather coincidental. “Hmm.” He considered this briefly. “Are you sure?” He wondered, finding it very hard to believe that it wasn’t.

Trastion glanced over at him. “Well, I asked her,” He answered, a little puzzled. “I specifically asked whether the training would’ve been this intense, regardless of the incident at the barracks, and she said it would’ve. She wouldn’t lie about that.” He had no doubt about that. “But,” He went on, “even if it was,” He sighed stared up at the darkening sky. “I figure I probably deserve it.”

“Oh?” Duinion frowned slightly, hearing this. “What makes you think you deserve such misery and pain and discomfort?”

Trastion sighed, pausing, and glanced at Duinion. “I said something horrible. I still can’t believe I said it.. and I can never undo what I said. I.. don’t even know how to begin trying to make up for it, and.. I just feel so bad.” He frowned, closing his eyes. The memory of that idiotic mistake would probably stick with him forever. As well it should, he decided. So, he wouldn't repeat that mistake in the future.

Duinion considered Trastion's words for a moment, and shook his head slightly. Regrets were very difficult to live down, as he knew well from personal experience. Quietly, he got up and went to his shelter, dug around among the jars of stuff he kept out there, and finally returned and set one of the jars near Trastion. “Rub that on wherever you’re hurting, and it ought to help.” He told him. “But, first I would advise you test a small area. Just a little patch of skin, like your arm, to make sure it isn't going to be too.. intense.”

Trastion turned his head and tried to get a look at what was in the jar, curious. “What's in it?” he asked, partly to make sure it didn’t contain any alcohol, but also partly to satisfy his curiosity.

Duinion smiled faintly. “A special kind of pepper, ground up very fine, and mixed with olive oil. You’ll want to make sure you wash your hands well after you touch it, and make sure you don't touch your face.. and especially not your eyes.. before you've washed your hands.” He warned. “But it usually helps with muscle soreness, like what you’re experiencing. It gives a sort of.. soothing heat that helps relax the achy muscles.”

Trastion considered that for a moment, then reluctantly sat up, wincing with a groan as his stomach muscles protested the action. But he managed to get into an upright position. “Right.” He picked it up and looked at the stuff curiously before rubbing a small amount on his upper arm.

“So, this is really just part of your training?” Duinion asked again, a bit skeptically, as he watched the trainee.

Trastion nodded without taking his eyes off of his arm, waiting to decide whether it was doing anything useful.

“I don’t recall Romeran having to do such intense workout,” Duinion commented. “Nor Unalmis. Nor myself…”

Trastion glanced at him. “What, you really think it is part of the punishment?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. Just seems a little.. intense. And the timing is.. awfully coincidental? If it’s only training.” Duinion replied with a shrug, watching Trastion begin to rub more of the stuff on his arms, once he seemed satisfied that it might actually help.

Trastion considered that as he worked on rubbing the salve in. He could feel the heat seeping into his muscles, and hoped that would be a good thing. “Well,” He said a bit hesitantly. “I did sorta ask for it.”

Duinion looked puzzled. “You asked for this?”

“Well,” Trastion grinned slightly. “Not this,” he nodded toward himself, meaning his sore muscles. “But, well, I said I wanted to learn Arnyn’s style of fighting, and she warned me it would be intense. I just didn’t realize how intense.” He explained. “She told me I might regret it...”

“I see…” Duinion wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, and wondered if the boy was crazy to have asked for such a thing. “And.. do you?” He wondered curiously.

Trastion paused, thinking about how much he was hurting, and the fact that he had to go back again tomorrow and do all of this over again. He really dreaded that. But thinking back on the duel he had witnessed, and how gracefully and, apparently effortlessly, Arnyn had defeated Kaylin, who was quite well known around the city as being an excellent swordswoman… he shook his head slowly. “No. I think it’ll be worth it.” He decided after a moment’s pause. "Eventually." He smiled faintly as he added that part.

“Hmm.” Duinion nodded slightly, but didn’t press the matter. As sore as Trastion seemed to be, he wondered how the lieutenant could possibly expect him to train again tomorrow. And according to Trastion, they were going to do this every day? That seemed like far too much to him. But, he didn’t really have much say in those things. He was only training him in woodsmanship skills, not fighting skills. “Are you going to join us for supper, or are you too sore to get up?” He asked with a little smile.

Trastion groaned at the thought of getting up, but he was starving. He sighed. “Yeah, I’ll come.” He wasn’t looking forward to having to do any more walking, though, after two days of running up all six levels of the city... in full gear.

“It’ll be easier on your legs, later on, if you walk around a bit now.” Duinion pointed out, knowing how much easier it would be on the muscles if he moved around a bit.

“Yeah, alright.” Trastion agreed with a sigh. Still, he didn’t try to get up just yet, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Duinion stood up, then held a hand down to help the young man to his feet. While he could have went in and brought something back out to Trastion, and let him eat by the campfire where they were already sitting, he thought it would be better for him if he came inside and joined the rest of them at the table.

Surprised by the gesture, Trastion smiled and let him help. He winced as his legs protested the upright position, and his abs weren’t happy with the movement either. “Ughhhhhhh. I don’t think there’s enough of the salve for everything that hurts,” he mentioned with a groan.

Shaking his head slightly in a mix of sympathy and amusement, Duinion walked along with Trastion toward the house. He figured Aggie was probably nearly done with supper by now, and figured they might as well come in. Maybe Aggie would put Trastion to work setting the table or something, and they could relay to Arnyn that he had been being helpful. "Perhaps Aggie will have something that will help, too. Seems like she keeps a few things on hand in the pantry that might help with aches." He figured he would ask her what she had on hand, anyway.

"Anything that can help would be welcome." Trastion agreed, curious what sort of remedies Duinion's sister would have, and wondered if Eryn might have been practicing at making salves and things like that for her healer training. As he walked, he wondered how a homecooked meal would differ from the meals at the barracks, but regardless, he was just glad to be able to get a good, solid meal and not have to worry about going to bed still feeling hungry.

@Rillewen
The tracks led back to the burned house. And to a cellar. As Arnyn came up behind Duinion, her nose wrinkled when she caught the smell, but Duinion had taken a step back. He seemed frozen, his eyes staring at the hole in the ground. Slowly stepping next to him, she caught his words and nodded. Realizing what his panicked mind might be thinking, or fearing - Arnyn started thinking about the timing. Hadn't someone - whether it had been Aggie or Duinion, she couldn't recall - told her that when Duinion had left, Eryn had still been at the farm? That meant she had only set off in the afternoon. She glanced up at the sun. It was not yet noon.

"Duinion..." Her voice was quiet as she lightly touched Duinion's shoulder. "It cannot be Eryn. She has not been missing long enough." Even if someone had killed her here in the early afternoon, a dead body did not smell this badly when not even a full day had passed.

"We need to go in there," she prompted gently. "Will you come?"

Kaylin, Vorondil and Sarina waited behind them with the horses. Kaylin, however, dismounted and quietly came over to stand with Duinion and Arnyn. "Ugh," she said spontaneously at the smell coming from the cellar. Not having heard the exchange between the other two, she stepped past them and bent over the hole a little. "Anyone in there?" she called out. After all, they were looking for someone. "Eryn?"

Arnyn frowned at Kaylin's choice of action, but didn't berate the Hyandaner. If no one alive was in there, calling out wouldn't matter. And if someone was lying in wait to set some sort of trap, then they would be heard going down the stairs anyway, sooner or later. The Lieutenant looked over her shoulder at Sarina, tapping her own bow. The other ranger needed no more words and prepared her ranged weapon, repositioning herself to get the best view of both the cellar's entrance as well as the rest of the burned ruins. Arnyn's gaze flicked to Vorondil and he drew his sword, although he remained mounted. If they had any runners, they would be well equipped to deal with them.

@Rillewen


Domanol could not help noting that the younger man was something of a people pleaser. The observation surprised him, since it ought by rights to have been the Uncle placating, and trying to win over his nephew. Not the other way around. And yet Unalmis veered without hesitation first on one approach and then the almost opposite in his responses, so that his elder was unable to gain any real sense of what his kinsman hoped to gain out of this whole conversation.

To meet with this estranged relative, doubtless. To warn him too, apparently. But that was the very odd thing. Because almost in the same breath that the young man was claiming he’d developed a sense of caution after past reckless behaviour … Unalmis was now throwing himself forward to risk his life once again .. on a man he scarcely knew. He had railed keenly against any chance that Dom should dare to infuriate Addhor, even as he leapt at the chance to aide him on an adventure which surely would put paid to any chance of reconciliation with his brother for ever. Every offering made sense on it’s own standing, but then stood in direct contradiction to all else that had been said.


Too long he had been paranoid. It had kept him alive. Too long he had sought first and foremost for the moment when his worst fears would be proved right, and the one he was tasked with putting faith in .. was revealed as some foe. Had it become such a hard habit to break ? He had thought he was making progress, after buddying up with those brothers in the North. He had trusted his return to Anardil and Isys. Was he finding issues now where there were none in truth ? Was he merely unable to believe that his nephew would be this excited and enthralled to see him ? After all that had happened ..

He was less astonished, of course, to note rather more interest from the young man in the sword than about the lad’s still missing mother. And certainly there had come far more reciting of old rumours, than enquiries about the truth of that little matter. Domanol did not have any answers for his nephew about what had become of Luisa, but the young man could not know that. It was almost as though Unalmis was deliberately trying to incite shame in his Uncle, letting him know all that he had suffered from bullies and taunting about the state of his broken family .. while still perpetrating a façade that he did not hold the elder responsible. There was absolutely some undercurrent of a grudge there.


So the young man was supposedly ‘done’ with Trevadir, because that friend had up and left him, and he did not seem either very interested in learning about the mother who had similarly abandoned him. But the Uncle .. who had abandoned them all the same .. Unalmis was keen to know .. him ? Domanol was beginning to suspect that this was all an elaborate dream, conceived by his own subconscious after weeks of Duinion encouraging him to just go and speak to his brother and nephew. He was hearing only what he wanted to hear. And after years of .. very much the opposite, he was slow to accept this could be true. Maybe that was all it was.


“Duinion was the one who told you where to find me ?” he presented the question as the almost obvious answer. For the young man had finally revealed that he knew about Domanol’s longest friend. It was surprising then, that he did not count the man an ‘uncle’. Or maybe playing ‘favourites’ was simply another try at the his nephew’s current audience.

“Of course he did, and of course you must play a part in what is to come.” The older man’s brown eyes drank of the younger’s infectious zeal. Now that .. he did believe. “Lets just say that this time, we have something of the Burned Man’s that he will want returned. And we shall have to ensure that he learns about that, shan’t we ?” he winked.


As the man posing as Unalmis leaned in, and glanced away almost immediately after, Domanol pondered whether there were doubts, or whether the young man simply could not look him straight in the eye. .. And there, at this proximity, he could see at last what had been bugging him this whole time. The truth that he had suspected but had no cause to believe.

“Come back here in two days time. I have to get back before the Guard changes at the Gate, and Thorley can not see us walk back in together. He will tell your father. But think, if you can, what to tell your Captain so you do not get in trouble for absconding. You don’t want to be a chip off that old block, after all.”


There was no chance of that, as it turned out. For the Unalmis before him bore eyes of a sea-green hue. And there was no way that Domanol could ever forget, his nephew had brown eyes. The same as Addhor and of Domanol himself. Their suspicious Mother had made a point of it, on a particularly memorable occasion years before, when she had accused Luisa of sleeping around. The eyes of the small child had made their case back then, that Unalmis could not be anyone but his father’s son. Domanol knew for certain after all, that the boy could not have been his own.

Who exactly this young man before him now, claiming to be Unalmis, might actually be .. was a whole other question. But not one he required answering today. After all, there was a most essential part that even a servant of his enemy would have to play. If they wanted the plan for vengeance to work better than the Burned Man’s had.


With a cheerful whistle then, Domanol departed back in the direction of the Great Gate, before the other could prise any information of him that he did not wish to give. The guard at the gate really would be changing soon. And the Ranger of the North was not sure if he could hold off from showing the now-proven imposter a far closer inspection of the legendary sword than any man would want to experience.

@Arnyn
"It cannot be Eryn. She has not been missing long enough."

The lieutenant's sensible words cut through his panic, and he nodded slowly. Of course, she was right. He gave a small nod in acknowledgement of her words, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the dark opening. When Kaylin walked up and peered down, calling out to Eryn, Duinion blinked and took in a slow breath. Not very deep, though, for the smell wasn't very pleasant. He looked at the lieutenant and registered that she had asked him whether he would come. Then looked back toward the hole where Kaylin was standing, and swallowed quietly.

How necessary was it, he wondered, if Eryn was not there? There was no reply from within the hole, which made him think that it must be empty of all living. But... what if... Just because what they smelled couldn't be Eryn, did not mean that Eryn was not there.. but if none were living down there... he couldn't bear to entertain the thought.

If that was the case, he didn't know if he could endure the discovery. Almost subconsciously, he began shaking his head slightly. The thought of going down into that dark hole was bad enough, but the thought of what might be waiting there...

"I..I'll.. look for tracks, out here," He decided, instead. Maybe there would be something. Maybe.. hopefully.. he could learn something that would prove his fears to be incorrect. Hopefully, there would be something to show him more about what happened, but more importantly, where his daughter was now. And he hoped more than anything that she was not down there in that cellar that reeked of death.

---

Private with @Ercassie

Mar smiled slightly when the man asked whether Duinion had told him anything. Of course, there was a slim chance that Ranger Raedor had told the real Nal something, but Mar had no way of knowing whether he did, or would, do such a thing. But he did know that Domanol could check with Duinion about whether he had done so. "You really have to ask?" He asked with a little smile, while not really answering the question at all. Domanol himself confirmed his belief that his friend had revealed his secret, but Mar neither confirmed nor denied it. He hardly even had a chance to, for now the other had revealed something of interest to him. Something of Pharak's? What could he have of Pharak's? And what's more, something that he would be willing to return?

Just as he was thinking of how to ask for more information while keeping 'in character', Domanol suggested they adjourn this first meeting, with a promise for a second. He was a little surprised by the abrupt end, but gave a slow nod in answer to the suggestion that he speak to his captain. No need for that, of course, but he didn't say that aloud. "Of course," He agreed, still a little surprised by how abruptly the meeting was ending. Not only could he not let Thorley see them together, for he would know Mar as Lieutenant Androllius, but also, if he really was who he pretended to be, he would need to get time away cleared.. from the ranger captain, not the guard captain. "Farewell, Uncle. Until then." He called after him with a smile.

Almost before he could think anymore about it, Domanol was on his way back toward the gate, whistling. Mar stared after him, thoughtful. He seemed cheerful, anyway. Glad about having spoken with his nephew, perhaps? Pleased with himself because of his clever plan of revenge? Mar stood leaning against the tree for some time longer, replaying the conversation in his mind so as to consider everything that they had each said, all that he had learned, and all that he had so far, failed to learn. He needed to learn the rest of the ranger's plan, but for now, he decided it was time to get word to Pharak about how today's meeting went. With that in mind, he set off with purposeful strides toward where he had left his horse.

---

(Private)

The soft crunch of boots stepping onto last years’ fallen leaves made Toby look down from his lofty perch. He had been sitting high up in his favorite spot in the oak for several minutes now. Just as he did nearly every day; Looking out across the Pelennor, hoping that he might catch a glimpse of his brother on his way home. Hearing the steps of someone approaching, Toby’s heart leaped with hope. Could that be Trev, coming to the tree in hopes that there might be messages for him there? But when Toby looked down, his heart sank again. That wasn’t Trev. Though he hadn’t seen Trev in years, and the person approaching did look oddly familiar, he felt sure that his brother did not look like that.

In fact, just as Toby was preparing to shift and call down to greet the stranger who had not seen him, Tobedir realized why the young man’s face seemed familiar. Toby froze, brown eyes going wide in shock. That was no stranger. In fact, it was about the last person in the world that Toby wanted to see… especially here. One of them, anyway. He swallowed, and decided to remain perfectly still and quiet. What was he doing here, though? Though Toby hadn’t had to deal with Trevadir’s childhood nemesis in several years, he would never forget that bully. He used to pick on Trev all the time, and he had even picked on Toby, though he had been so much smaller. He remembered Trev getting his friends together to face the bully, and telling him to leave Toby alone, on those few occasions.

The appearance of him here, now, seemed odd. Tobedir remembered how happy all of them had been when Rip had moved away or whatever, but then he’d come back after far too short a time. He had seen the guy patrolling the streets. As a guard. He still couldn’t believe the guy had become a guard, after all the stuff he used to do. Weren’t guards supposed to stop bullies from doing that sort of thing?

Once Rip had taken a position under the tree, Toby couldn’t see him anymore. How long was he going to be there? Would Toby be stuck up here for a long time? He sure didn’t want to let the guy know he was up here, but he also didn’t want to end up being late for supper. Grammy might be upset, and she wouldn’t understand why he couldn't just climb down, just because someone was at the base of the tree.

Even as Toby waited for him to go away, yet another man joined him. Toby had to hold back a sigh. How many more people were going to show up here? This man, though, he wasn't able to see through all the leaves. He had come from another angle than Rip, and Toby only knew he was there because of the sound of his footsteps, and then his voice. Who could this be? Toby's curiosity was shattered a moment later, and replaced with surprise, when the bully addressed the newcomer, with something like eagerness in his voice, as Uncle. Uncle! Toby couldn’t believe his ears. He hadn’t known that Rip had an uncle, much less that he lived anywhere around here. Was the uncle like his nephew? He remembered hearing something once that his father used to push people around, or something like that. Maybe the whole family was mean and hateful to everyone around them, picking on others just because they can. If that was the case, then Toby didn’t dare let either of them know he was there. He held his breath, scared to move even a finger, lest they hear him. Thankfully, the tree was plentiful in leaves, which hid both eavesdropper, and the eavesdropped party, from one another.

As their ‘reunion’ went on, Toby’s confusion returned tenfold. The things that each were saying to each other… it didn’t make a bit of sense. For a long moment, Toby was giving the tree limb in front of him the most baffled expression, while he tried to work out why the bully was saying things that didn’t match up with himself. In fact, the more he listened, the more Toby began to realize that the things he was saying, actually matched up more with Nal, his brother’s best friend. Toby slowly turned his head downward to see whether he could catch a glimpse of either, but they were too well hidden by the leaves. And now he was talking as if GrammyO was his grandmother? She had been a nice, sweet old lady, just like a third grandmother to him, but he was fairly sure that Rip had never once even met her. Except perhaps on that awful day when everyone was being told to pack up and leave the city... the day she'd died. Toby scowled to hear that jerk talking as if she were his grandmother. How dare he?! Still, he bit his lip to keep himself quiet. But what was going on here? Why was that creep trying to pretend…

Suddenly the revelation hit Tobedir, and it became clear to him that the bully was pretending to be Unalmis. So, that meant.. the man who was there was not Rip’s uncle, but Nal’s?! Toby’s eyes widened as he made the connection, and it was all he could do not to gasp in shock. He’d heard about that missing uncle for ages. He’d gone off years ago, way before Toby was even born, but he’d heard so much about him, he almost felt as if it was his own uncle who’d gone off. In fact, his grandmother once told him that Toby’s mother had been really close friends with Nal’s father and uncle. To realize that the man, a close friend of Toby’s mother, was standing so close, just below him.. and he couldn’t say anything… it was quite a trial for Tobedir. He had supposedly died, right? But yet, apparently he hadn’t, for he stood right there… too bad Toby couldn’t get a look at him, though.

And what was all that Rip was saying, about his.. or rather, Nal’s.. father? Would he really kill his own brother? Toby frowned, confused and alarmed by this news. Was that something the bully had made up, or did he really know what he was talking about? While Toby wanted to be skeptical about what he was hearing, he also couldn't help thinking of all those awful tales Nal and Trev used to tell him about Addhor going around chopping legs off of people in their sleep. But how would Rip know anything about what Nal’s father planned to do? And why was he pretending to be Nal, anyway? Why would he even want to? From everything Toby had seen and heard, the two absolutely hated each other. It was strange, and Toby found the whole thing very confusing. Was this something to do with their being enemies? Maybe he was trying to do something mean to get back at Nal or something...

Hearing his brother’s name suddenly brought up, Toby caught his breath and listened more attentively. Ah… he remembered that stupid joke the bully had made so many years ago, about Trev and Toby’s father running off with Nal’s mother. But he had it all wrong. Toby frowned, hearing how he spoke as if 'Nal' had been really bothered by that rumor. In fact, thanks to Ryn's suggestion, Trev and Nal had turned that into a joke, claiming that it made them brothers, and the two intended ‘victims’ of that joke had thenafter went around claiming they really were brothers. Toby remembered that very well, because he had felt rather left out, thinking Trev was saying he was disowning Toby as his brother, and have Nal for a brother in his stead. He'd been very upset and nearly cried about it, until Ryn pointed out that if Trev and Nal were brothers, then that also meant Toby and Nal were brothers. He had smiled then, and found it very exciting to think of having two big brothers. And he’d always liked Nal, so it had been fun for Toby to pretend that Nal was his brother, too.

But why was the Bully now saying that Trev used to be his friend? That he was done with being his friend? The real Nal would never say that, Toby was sure of it. And Trev would never have said that of Nal, either. He was sure of that, too! Frowning harder, Toby tuned back into their conversation which was still about his family. If he hadn’t already known that Trev had run off to join their father, he might have been stunned by these words, as well as the news that his father was a pirate. As it was, he’d known that for a few years now, so it wasn’t any sort of surprise. But, he couldn't help wondering how Rip knew it. Toby had never shared that information with anyone, not even his Grammy. The only one he had ever spoken about that with, was Nal himself, who already knew it. And he was as sure as he could be sure of anything, that Nal would not have told that to Rip.

“His mother was as good as a sister to me, to the both of us, back when,”

The words from Unalmis' long lost uncle, uttered about the mother of both Trevadir and Tobedir, brought a mist of tears to Toby’s eyes. He smiled faintly, deciding already that he liked this man. Nal’s uncle. And perhaps, if he could find him again, he might ask him for tales about his mother. Suddenly, it occurred to him, that if she was ‘as good as a sister’ to him, then.. did that mean he was practically an uncle to Toby, too? And then it would seem as if the pretend game that Trev and Nal used to play, and let Toby be part of, was real. That they were all brothers.. family. The only one missing, of course, was.. Trev.

Fighting back a wave of sorrow at the missing link in their brotherhood, Toby was careful not to sniffle as he listened to the new turn of topic. Something about enemies, and revenge, and stuff Toby didn’t quite understand. But he did understand that the man, Domanol, he recalled was his name, did not seem to realize that he was speaking to the wrong ‘nephew’. Toby felt concerned by that, wondering what he could do about it. Was there anything he could do? He bit his lip, anxiously listening as they continued to talk for a moment longer. While Toby didn't really understand much of what their conversation was about now, he figured that whatever reason the bully had for his deception, it couldn’t be good. And now it seemed like Domanol was saying stuff that was only meant for Nal’s ears, and Toby figured he probably shouldn’t even be overhearing it.. much less Rip…

“Come back here in two days time."

Domanol suddenly sounded as if he was taking his leave. Toby listened closely to the reply, and let those words roll over and over in his head. Two days. They planned to meet again here, the day after tomorrow, and it sounded as if Domanol was going to tell Rip even more stuff he shouldn't tell him. Toby bit his lip, wishing he dared speak up right now and tell him that he wasn't talking to the right person. But then Rip would know he'd been listening. And maybe Domanol would be upset, too. Toby didn't really know him, of course.. he only knew a little bit of what he'd heard from other people. But, he felt it would be better not to let him continue being deceived.

Toby waited for what felt like ages. Why wasn't Rip leaving? He held back a sigh, becoming a little cramped here in the tree. He couldn't reposition at all, for fear of making noise. Why wasn't he leaving? Toby had thought maybe he could climb down and hurry after Domanol, but by now he would be long gone, and Toby had no idea what he even looked like. All he had to go on was a voice, and how was he going to locate him by that alone, in a huge city full of people?

At last, Rip set off, but where he was going, Toby couldn't tell. He waited until he felt it safe to move, then he carefully climbed a little higher until he had a better view of the fields, though the branches were a bit precarious. Curiously, he noticed Rip riding southward on a white horse. It seemed odd to Toby. White didn't really seem to suit him, in Toby's opinion. But, whatever. He was gone now. Toby breathed out a sigh of relief, then climbed down from the tree, glad to be able to stretch his legs at last.

Once on the ground, he stood for a moment, thoughtful. If he couldn't find Domanol in the city, then the only other option was to come back here, in two days, and hope that Domanol got here first. Then, maybe he'd have a chance to warn him about Rip, before Nal's uncle told him something he shouldn't. But what if Rip came first? Toby bit his lip, thinking for a moment, but decided it was a risk he would have to take. Whatever they'd been talking about sounded serious, and really secret-like. Stuff that Rip shouldn't be knowing about. He took a deep breath, then nodded as he made up his mind, then set off toward the city.

(Private)

The tree stood like some sort of monument, all by itself in the middle of the field. Having somehow survived the destruction wrought by the war, it reached its mighty arms up to the sky as if in celebration for the abundant growth that it proudly displayed upon its limbs. The mighty oak almost seemed like some indestructible entity which not even the hosts of the Dark Lord had been able to slay.

More than likely, it had simply not been noticed by all of those evil armies, else they would surely have chopped it down. And the fire had not harmed it because.. well, Toby couldn’t think of any reason to explain that, but there probably was a perfectly logical one that some more knowledgeable person could offer. Toby stood looking at it from afar, admiring how tall, strong and tough it was, like a symbol of all that he wished he was. Everything, he felt, that his brother was.

His brother… Trevadir. A small frown tugged at Tobedir’s face as he slowly wandered closer to the oak where his brother, and Trev’s friends, used to meet at times. Another meeting, which had taken place only two days ago, had brought up his brother’s name, quite unexpectedly. Toby was still rather confused by that whole matter. He had not meant to eavesdrop, of course, but when he was up in the tree, he hadn’t realized how well concealed he was, until it was too late to make himself known.

Given the fact that it all seemed so very secret and clandestine, Toby felt uncomfortable telling anyone about what happened. Not even Grammy. And, well… that about summed up everyone in his life that he could talk to, at least here in Minas Tirith. Because he had no idea how to even find Nal, these days, since he lived up in the sixth and was always busy doing ranger things. Besides, somehow.. it felt wrong to tell him that his uncle was here, and had met with Rip, thinking he was Nal. He imagined how he might feel if it was the other way around, and learned that Trev had been there, and met with someone pretending to be Toby. It would be… weird, at best.

So, hearing their plan had been to meet again today to discuss the further details of Domanol’s secret plan of revenge, Toby had come. Though he had no idea why Rip would pretend to be Nal, he felt that it was best if Domanol knew he was an imposter. He could only hope that Domanol would be the first to arrive, this time. He didn’t know Domanol, and he'd never had a chance to get to know his mother... but he figured any friend of her must be alright. And he didn’t want the guy to be fooled by the bully’s trick, whatever it was. Besides that, if Trev happened to come along, he wanted to warn him that Rip was around, and that he was trying to pull some sort of trick like this.

But what was that? A bright white something caught his eye, fluttering in the breeze from the tree's branches. Toby frowned, curious. He looked around, then drew closer to the lonesome tree. There was a paper, a note of some sort, perhaps? caught in one of the branches. Intrigued, Toby tilted his head and wondered about that. Could this be something from Domanol? Or, better yet, from Trev? The former seemed most likely, yet.. Toby couldn’t help but hope. He longed for any sort of news of his brother, any indication that he was even still alive would have been received with great joy and relief.

Drawn toward the fluttering piece of paper which was tied just above his reach, Toby looked up and considered it. He was sure that he had only to jump up a little so that he could reach it, and then he could learn who it was from, and what they had to say. There seemed no reason why he shouldn't take a look, and so he took a couple of running steps forward, leaped upward, and reached for the paper.

His confidence was rewarded; he caught the note easily and pulled it from where it was loosely tied onto the bough. But the landing was not quite what he expected. No sooner had his feet reunited with the earth, than they were swiftly parted once more. Toby let out a startled yelp as one foot was abruptly swept out from under him, and the world inverted. His upper back only briefly grazed the earth before he found his head at least a yard above the ground, swinging wildly in the air with one foot dangling free, the other held fast by a loop which had closed around his ankle.

His heart pounded fiercely in a wild race of panic, and he flailed his arms around in an attempt to reach the ground, but without success. “Help!” He shouted, confused and alarmed. What was going on? What just happened? Twisting frantically this way and that, he tried to figure out why he was suddenly hanging upside down, and could only just see the rope closed around his ankle. The rest of it stretched upward, disappearing among the leaves. A rope? Some sort of trap? Why would that be here?! He tried in vain to bend up and reach his ankle, but ended up swinging all the more violently at the end of the cord when he was forced to drop his upper body back down. “Ughhhhh! Someone let me out, please?” He begged, wondering if some hunter had placed the trap there, thinking to catch some sort of animal. Maybe they were lurking nearby? But no one answered his calls.

After a few moments of silence, Toby’s heart began to slow, as he recovered from the unexpectedness of the situation. He glanced up..or down? at the paper he still clutched in one hand. There was nothing else to do, so he opened it and looked at the note. His incredulity increased upon seeing the brief message printed there.


He couldn’t believe this. This was intentional then? Had they somehow known he was up in the tree the other day, and guessed he might come back? Was this all just to trap him? He looked around, slightly panicked. What were they going to do to him? The note fell to the ground as Toby hastily tried to swing himself up to grab his leg, but all he could catch onto was the back of his knee before falling back again. “I don’t like this,” He groaned, wishing someone would come along.

He shouldn’t have wished that. How many times had he been told to ‘be careful what you wish for’? Toby hadn’t been waiting but about five minutes before he began to hear footsteps approaching. He couldn’t see who it was, and couldn’t twist around enough to get a look. “Who’s there?” he wondered, a little frightened. “Can you help me, please?” He was close to tears but struggling very hard to hold it back.

The steps stopped for a moment, then continued toward him. “Hello? Who are you?” Toby asked. “Please, let me down, whoever you are.” Toby begged. “I don’t like this. I didn’t do anything, I just wanted to see if my brother had been here.. really!”

The person took hold of the back of his belt and steadied him from the slow, idle spin he was unable to stop. Thank the Valar, whoever it was, they were going to get him down!

Instead, he heard an all-too familiar voice beginning to laugh, long and low as he was slowly turned to face a pair of legs. Toby’s eyes shut. Not him. Before he had a chance to think anything more about his great misfortune, the guy spun him, then kept spinning him, faster and faster. “Nooo! Stoooop, please!” Toby begged. He was starting to feel a bit sick now, and he tried very hard to keep his lunch from spilling out. The hanging upside down thing definitely didn’t help in that regard. The spinning made it even worse.


At last, the bully stopped him abruptly, catching onto Toby’s sides to keep him still. Toby was so dizzy, the ground above his head still felt like it was spinning. Rip crouched down so that he was almost eye level with Toby. He was grinning smugly. “Well, if it isn’t little Tobaby.” He commented. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” He poked Toby roughly in the stomach.

“Ow.. Please.. don’t do that.” Toby requested, a little queasy. It would’ve served Rip right if he’d ended up throwing up at him, but he managed not to. “Please.. let me down,” He asked quietly. “Please, Aderic? I never did anything to you.” He even made sure to ask nicely, and even use his proper name instead of the one Trev and his friends always used for him. “I really… really don’t feel good,” He added, hoping maybe, by some miracle, the bully would actually have grown up enough to not torment him any further. He was a guard, for goodness sake!

“What’re you doing here, Tobaby?” Mar demanded, uncaring how bad the kid felt.

“Nothing! Really, I was just walking along, and saw the note,” He looked for it on the ground, and pointed with one hand. “And I was curious, so I came to look. Will you please let me down?”

Mar frowned. Keeping his grip on the kid’s belt with one hand, he reached to pick up the note from the ground with the other. He opened it, read it, then dropped it again. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he glanced around, taking in the situation. He realized, swiftly, that this trap had been meant for him. He had no idea how Tobedir had gotten caught in it, but turned to glare at him, nonetheless. “You shouldn’t meddle in things that don’t concern you.” He snapped. “You came to spy, didn’t you?” He accused the boy.

“What?” Toby widened his eyes, alarmed. How could he know that Toby had been spying, before? Belatedly, he added, “N-no, of course not!” That was true, actually. He wasn’t planning to spy... this time. He was planning to warn Domanol that this guy wasn’t who he said he was. But he really didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Ric that. In fact, it wasn’t a good idea to let him know that Toby knew anything about the previous meeting.

“Then what were you doing here?” Mar demanded.

“Just what I said!” Toby insisted, deciding it was also not wise to let Rip know that Trev and his friends had used to use this tree to leave one another messages. Nor that he hoped to find Trev here, someday. “Please, let me down, my foot's going numb. And I think I might throw up… please, just let me down?” He was fighting tears even harder, now.

Mar narrowed his eyes, then leaned in closer. “No, I’m not going to let you down. I think I’ll let you hang here until someone else comes along. You can take the time to think about why you shouldn’t spy on people, hm? And.. if someone does come to let you down, you aren’t going to tell them that I was here. Understand?”

Toby looked at him, dismayed to hear that he would actually leave him here. “Why would you think I was spying?” He asked, genuinely confused. The guy hadn’t known he was there… had he?

“You aren’t going to tell anyone. Are you?” Mar repeated insistently. He grabbed the boy’s shirt, which was all bunched up by his chin, and drew him closer. “Because if you breathe a word to anyone about me being here, you’re going to wish this rope had been around your neck. Is that clear, Tobaby?” He spoke the words in low, menacing voice.

Toby stared at him, stunned and frightened. He had known that he was a bully, but he’d never heard him make such a fearsome threat as that, before. Silently, he nodded, and for a moment, frightened, brown eyes remained locked with the other’s glaring, sea-green. They were cold and hard, and he felt sure that the guy wasn’t just bluffing.

“Alright then.” Mar stood, still holding onto Toby’s belt to keep him steady. “Now that we’re clear on that matter,” He smirked with amusement. “Have fun pretending you’re a bat.” He let go, giving a little spin to get him started, and stood back while the rope, which had gotten wound up tightly when he spun him before, began to unwind itself.

Toby cried out as he began spinning again, the other way, faster and faster. He caught only a few glimpses of Rip walking away, and then he was spinning too fast to even see that much. He had no idea which way the evil guard went, and the queasiness was returning in renewed force. Groaning, Toby closed his eyes tightly and struggled to keep his stomach from turning out its contents. Eventually, he slowed to a stop, and just as he began to feel hopeful that it was over… he began going back the other way. Back and forth, the rope twisted, each time slightly less. Until, at last, it came to a slow halt.

Reminded slightly of the times when he used to watch Trev and his friends play on the swing, twisting up the swing’s ropes until it couldn’t twist any more, they would then let it go and laugh in enjoyment as they got a very dizzying ride. But they weren’t upside down, caught by one ankle in a loop that refused to let go. They could just stop the swing and get off anytime they wanted, if it got to be too much. Toby had no idea how long he might be up here, and unfortunately, no one else knew he was here.

(Private)

A long while passed, but he wasn't sure how long it was. Tobedir was getting very bored, and beginning to worry about getting home late. What would his grandmother think? Would she send out people to look for him? She'd had people looking for Trev for a long time before she learned that he had run away. But would she think to have anyone look out here, in the Pelennor, for Toby? He hadn’t told her, or anyone, that he was coming out here. He had a headache by now, and still didn’t feel any less queasy. Another thing also occurred to him. What if he was up here all night? It got pretty cold at nights this time of year, and he really didn’t want to sleep out here, upside down, and furthermore… what if he was out here for just a few more hours? Eventually, he’d have to answer a call of nature.. and he really didn’t want to wet his pants. That would just be really embarrassing. Far more embarrassing than being caught in some trap.

Eventually, he heard soft footsteps approaching again, though it was stealthier than before. He tensed. No.. not him again. Toby held back a groan, fearing that he was in for another unpleasant spinning session. ‘No, please don’t spin me again,’ He thought, fighting tears that sprang up in his eyes.

“Uh.. what happened?” A man asked, in a surprised voice as he caught Toby, just as Rip had done earlier. His voice didn't sound familiar.

Toby opened his eyes, blinking at the stranger. “Please, sir, can you get me down?” He asked, pleadingly, hopeful that the stranger might be kinder than the bully guard.

“Yeah, of course, just give me a moment.” The stranger assured him. He reached up and took hold of Toby’s trapped leg, gently pulling down until he could reach the rope attached to his ankle. Once he had a grip on the rope, he pulled down slowly and gently until Toby’s upper back rested on the ground. “Just hold still, I’ll have you out of there in no time.”

The stranger worked for a moment, then gently eased Toby’s foot out of the loop, and carefully lowered him down to the ground. He maintained a firm grip on the rope the entire time, and once the boy was lying on the ground, free of the snare, he carefully tugged the rope in such a way that the knot forming a loop came out, and then he carefully let go of the end of the rope, keeping himself clear as it whipped upward through the air the second the tension on the branch was released.

The man then kneeled by Toby. “How long have you been hanging there?” He asked with a concerned frown.

“Ages,” Toby gasped, breathing in deep breath of relief. He placed a hand over his unsettled stomach, eyes closed for a moment as he focused on taking slow, deep breaths. “Feels like hours, at least. Maybe just one, though… I’m not sure.”

“Do you need to go to a healer?” The stranger inquired, quietly pocketing the note while Toby's eyes were closed.

“Uh.. no, I… I just feel sorta.. ugh.” Toby was content to just lie on the ground for a little while, feeling very relieved to actually be touching the ground again. He took slow, deep breaths for a moment while the man took a moment to take the rope down from the tree branch.

“What’s your name?” The man asked, waiting patiently while Toby recovered.

“Tobedir, sir.” He answered quietly. He didn't think of asking for a name in return, and the stranger didn't offer one.

“How’d you get caught in that, anyway?”

Toby slowly sat up a little, propped on his elbows behind him. “I… well, I was going to go climb the tree. I was looking for my brother, and I was hoping I might be able to see him from there, if he came this way.” He admitted. “Anyway, I saw this.. note,” He looked around but didn’t see it. Figuring he was probably lying on top of it, he gave up searching. “I just wanted to see what it said.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed. “Thought it could’ve been from my brother, maybe.”

The stranger rubbed a hand over his beard, glancing down briefly, then nodded. “I see.. well, it’s a good thing you weren’t hurt.” He commented quietly. “You aren’t, are you?” he added in a hopeful tone.

“I.. I don’t think so.” Toby agreed. “But I think my foot’s gone to sleep. And my stomach’s not real happy. I..” He hesitated. “I couldn’t stop spinning for a while.” He explained, keeping his gaze down. He didn’t say anything about Rip.

“Just sit still for a little bit, alright, Tobedir?” He smiled kindly. “I’ll look around and make sure there are no more traps. And.. I’ll also make sure there are none here, in the future.” He added in a firm tone.

Toby frowned slightly. “How could you make sure of that, sir?” He wondered, looking up at him.

The stranger paused, then smiled slightly. “Well, I’m a ranger. Ensuring the safety of citizens is part of my job. Don’t worry. I’ll see to it that there are never any traps placed here again. Uh.. are you sure your foot’s only asleep?” he added, looking worried.

Toby looked down and rotated his ankle slowly in a circle. The uncomfortable pins and needles feeling was starting to bother him, and he nodded with an expression of discomfort. “Yeah, feels.. prickly.” He answered.

“Hmm. Keep rotating it like that, as much as you can endure. I’ll take a look around.”

The ranger disappeared around behind the tree for a little while, as Toby tried to push himself to keep moving his foot. Soon, it was way too uncomfortable to move his foot even the slightest bit, so he just waited. Every tiny little movement made it worse, until at last the circulation began to return. He breathed a little sigh of relief once he was able to move his foot without discomfort.

The Ranger returned after a moment. “Nothing else to worry about,” He assured Toby with a smile. “How is your foot, Tobedir?”

“Better.” Toby began to get up slowly, cautiously testing his weight on the foot.

“Good. And your stomach?”

“Um, still a little.. funny.” Toby made a face. “But I’ll be alright. Thank you, sir. I was starting to think no one was ever going to come get me down.” He added sincerely.

The ranger smiled faintly. “No need to thank me.” He answered quietly. “Perhaps you’d best run along, now. Your family must be getting worried.”

Toby smiled sadly, a little disappointed that he hadn't managed to accomplish his goal, and now it seemed unlikely that he'd get a chance again. He was certain that the man who had freed him didn't have the same voice as Domanol. But he nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you for freeing me.” He brushed off his clothes, then waved as he headed toward the city with a little sigh. He forgot to look and see whether the note had been underneath of him, but then, it didn’t seem all that important anymore. He was just eager to get home and lie down for a while.

@Rillewen
Arnyn watched Duinion as he seemed to consider her question. The shake of his head was a slight disappointment. At his reply, which confirmed he would not venture into the cellar, she schooled herself not to allow the slight frown she wanted to adopt. "Are you sure?" the Lieutenant asked, instead, still rather gentle.
When he nodded that he was sure, Arnyn only nodded in return. She gestured toward Kaylin. "Let's go," Arnyn told her abruptly.

Kaylin had been giving Arnyn and Duinion an inquisitive look, and her eyes once again shifted from Arnyn to Duinion and back. "Got it, Lieutenant," she said, pulling out a knife. It was close quarters in a cellar, and she wasn't about to take any chances. Kaylin carefully put her foot on the first step. Meanwhile, Arnyn readied a dagger. She waited for Kaylin to be about five steps down before she followed.

There wasn't much light down there, but there was some. Kaylin let her eyes adjust to the increased darkness while she descended, slowly but surely. She wanted to ask again whether anyone was in here, but the smell was getting worse - much worse - and it took any inclination to open her mouth away. Yet, she was still forced to - breathing through the nose was not an option. Even breathing through her mouth left a strange kind of taste on her tongue. Disgusting. Kaylin stepped into the cellar.

Arnyn reached the end of the steps and took in what she could see of the dirt floor. Someone had been here - other than Kaylin passing by just now. And.. paw prints, too. Could it have been Hattie? Arnyn didn't believe in coincidence much. Yet it was possible it could have been another dog.

"Lieutenant?" Kaylin's voice was slightly muffled as she was holding her hand in front of her mouth. "Found the source of the smell."

Arnyn frowned against the dark and the smell, taking note of where Kaylin was. "First we need to make sure no one else is here." The two of them made quick work of searching the place, which wasn't too big. They were careful, given the lack of light throughout the basement, but they still worked fast together. Both of them finally directed their gaze toward the body.

Kaylin shook her head. "That one has been there for many months," she told Arnyn. "And honestly I'd like to get out of here before the smell seeps into my clothes. And my hair."
Arnyn nodded, though she still crouched by the body to try and take a closer look. A woman. Missing fingers. Bandages around the hands, the head. The woman was bound. It didn't take a genius to determine this was murder through heavy injury followed by intentional abandonment. The Lieutenant rose again. "Up," she said, and Kaylin was quick to oblige. She went up the steps far more quickly than she had descended. So did Arnyn, for that matter.

"Nothing," Kaylin declared swiftly once she was back topside, before taking a grateful and deep breath of fresh air. "Other than a corpse that's been rotting for a long time."

"Anything new up here?" Arnyn asked Duinion.

@Ercassie , @Rillewen
Cadil
With Nal, in the guard house at the South Gate
The last day of Autumn (last year)

For a few moments Cadil looked very seriously at Nal and then joined the laugh.

"Yeah, suppose he wouldn't care much about our condition in here, or even be satisfied if it was bad. Right?" he turned to the small window again and tried to see as much as he could, twisting this way and that. All he could see was a line of people waiting to get through.

"Perhaps the punishment for a broken window would not be too bad if we managed to get out by using it to our advantage," he then got on all fours and began to inspect the door closely, even running his hand over the rough surface.

"Or... if I could find some nail, I could try and pick that lock. I'm not proficient at it, but perhaps could do something in a pinch. Wonder if I have something in my bag that I could use..." Cadil continued to think on ideas offered by Nal. "By the way, has he written something interesting in those papers that we could use against him?"

@Arnyn
Watching the two women venture down into the cellar, braving what he could not, Duinion turned his gaze down to the ground, holding back a sigh of disappointment.. in himself. He tried to tell himself there was no need for all of them to go down there, and in fact, it was better that he check for tracks around the ground while they checked down here. And that, if some horrible thing had happened to his daughter, he didn't want to be the one to find.. such a scene that may await them down there. But, still, he couldn't deny to himself that a big part of it was more about the hole that the two of them were now descending into, and the fact that he couldn't bring himself to go in there. And that upset him, thinking of Eryn.

Trying to push those thoughts out of his mind, he forced himself to at least take a few steps nearer to the dreadful hole. The ground around the steps, which thankfully hadn't been too disturbed by either of the two women, showed prints around the top step. Thankfully, these hadn't been disturbed because both Kaylin and Arnyn had approached the cellar from the side, rather than from the front. The steps, being made of stone, obviously wouldn't show much, but from the top step, there was once a footpath that probably led around to the door of the house. While it was no longer as worn down and clear as it had probably once been, the spot in front of the steps was wider and still worn down to mostly just a patch of dry dirt. There were tracks here, which even the light sprinkle of rain hadn't managed to obscure.

Duinion kneeled down to examine them, while trying his best to block out the smell from below. That was the most difficult part, and it made it difficult to concentrate on what he was seeing, but he was able to make out a few clear prints. And one of these made his heart leap with hope. A bare foot had stepped here, and it looked exactly like one of Eryn's, which he was so used to seeing around the farm. Eryn had been here! He scanned the ground swiftly to see what else he could make out. She had come and gone in and out a couple of times, by the look of things. The dog, which must be Hattie, had also been here, and had come in and out of the cellar. And... so had the boot prints. This brought a frown to his face, and he also saw one of Eryn's freshest tracks had been overlapped by one of these boot prints.

Moving carefully up the path, he spotted a few more prints. These concerned him; it looked as if both Eryn and her attacker had been running; first her, with him behind. He moved along the path, following these, but soon Eryn's trail seemed to disappear, although he thought it looked like the man continued on toward the house. He frowned, but before he could pick up any more tracks, Arnyn and Kaylin returned. In answer to the lieutenant's question, Duinion motioned toward the house. "Found a trail," he let them know, thoughtful. "Eryn was here," he added, but frowned as he went on, "And I believe the man was chasing her."

He pointed out the tracks he had found, so that Arnyn could take a look for herself, then without another word, he set off to follow the boot tracks. Maybe Eryn had managed to conceal her tracks, as she had learned to do from him, or maybe the boot tracks just covered hers, but he felt that if the man was heading this way, and he was running after her, then logically, if he kept following his tracks, he might eventually find more of Eryn's. Since, it seemed, the booted man had caught up to her. That troubled Duinion, knowing that Eryn was a fast runner, but he also didn't know, yet, what might have happened here.

The tracks led inside the burned house. The roof was burned away, leaving many charred beams lying everywhere, and only charred stone walls still stood, some parts of them broken down, others just crumbling from exposure to the elements. It reminded him sharply of the walls that he and the other rangers had, only yesterday, spent some time smashing and tearing down. What was once a floor was now covered in a thick layer of dust and ash, which made it very easy to find more footprints. Spotting another set of Eryn's, Duinion knelt, swallowing past a lump of emotion in his throat. "She stood here, back to the wall, it looks like," he muttered, either to himself, or the others if they had come along. "Then.." Trailing off, he followed her tracks, slowly, through the house. Down a hallway. "I think.. she was hiding," He murmured softly, noticing the way her prints showed her movements, as if she had darted from one place to another, seeking cover. He took a look at the booted prints, which seemed to confirm his thoughts; the man seemed as if he was searching each room. He frowned, upset to think of her being pursued, hunted, and forced to hide. Who was this fellow, anyway?

With renewed determination now that he had finally found tracks he was certain belonged to his daughter, Duinion followed these down the hall as it seemed Eryn was moving in a stealthy manner; walking on the balls of her feet, keeping her steps to spots that would make the least amount of noise as possible, just like he had taught her. He couldn't help a faint smile of pride to see that. He stopped when the trail ended at a large portion of the wall which had burned and crumbled away, leaving an opening... just big enough for a girl about her size to slip through. It was definitely too small for him to be able to fit through there.

He took a moment to examine the edges of the gap. She had definitely climbed through here, and in fact, there was a nail sticking out of the wall which confirmed it. Duinion reached out and carefully pulled off a tiny shred of cloth that had gotten stuck on the rusted nail. It matched the dress he remembered Eryn was wearing, yesterday. He imagined her climbing hastily through this hole, getting caught on the nail, and yanking herself free... and he hoped that the nail hadn't cut her in her haste to get through.

@Rillewen
Kaylin wasn't sure what to say. Duinion must both be extremely relieved to have finally found prints he knew belonged to Eryn, as well as almost going crazy because the man had been following her. They all felt it couldn't have been a good thing that she was followed. Carefully, the Hyandaner looked to Vorondil and Sarina, who both seemed equally uncomfortable. Finally, Kaylin's gaze shifted to her Lieutenant.

Arnyn nodded and quickly took control of the situation when Duinion set off after the tracks he pointed out. "Kaylin, stay with Duinion." She left it unsaid to watch his back if necessary, but Kaylin understood the need for that without words. He was a father searching for his daughter. He might not be as careful as he otherwise would be. "Vorondil", Arnyn continued, "stay with the horses and stick close to Sarina. Sarina, I want you to circle around the ruins as we follow the trail. Follow your own best judgment until further orders." Then she was off as well, after Duinion and Kaylin, keeping an eye on the boot prints.

She caught up with Duinion and Kaylin as they were following Eryn's tracks down what looked like had been a hallway. While Duinion stopped by a gap in the wall, Arnyn noticed the booted prints turned to the side, into another room. Those were the prints she followed. There was a back door in this room. Arnyn went through the opening in the stone ruins, following the boot prints just off to the side of the gap through which she could still see Duinion and Kaylin.

"Anything?" Kaylin asked from behind Duinion.

"Hmm." Arnyn took a closer look at the prints in front of her. "Looks like the man caught up with Eryn here, Duinion. Her footprints turn from one direction to another, more or less in the same place. Like she turned around. Or was turned around." Frowning, the Lieutenant crouched down. "The dog prints join Eryn's and the man's here too." It looked like there had been a scuffle here. She looked back up, finding Duinion's face through the gap. "There is a doorway out here through the room on your right. Come see."

Private with @Rillewen @Pele Alarion


Watching Cadil inspect the door, Unalmis leaned back in the seat and slowed his breathing as he began to calm down. It was just a puzzle. They would work it out. They were going to get out. When his friend suggested a nail however, the Ranger retrieved the small splinter from his pocket, tested it’s strength against his thumb and frowned as the tiny piece of wood bent over in half. With a sigh, he flicked it away. So much for that idea. Still he was impressed to hear that the other young man had some experience in picking locks. Or at least the smarts enough to offer hope in that direction.

“I’ll check the bag,” he volunteered, rather than properly asking permission to look into Cadil’s treasured sack of wonders. It was enough to alert the owner though, if he should have any objection, rather than simply assuming it would be no issue. A small smile eased it’s way through concentration as Nal plunged his hand into Cadil’s bag and began to sift about for what he might recognise in there.

Countless nights of idle play, even on the Poros mission, when excitement had kept him from rest, the Ranger had sought to practice identifying and retrieving certain objects from his bag in utter darkness. And finally .. finally the practice had proved it's worth. Albeit that this was not his own bag, and identifying objects was much harder when one didn’t know what was in there. The rope of course he recognised easily enough from earlier, and then .. something that felt like it might be food ..


“Would the knife be any help to pick a lock ?” he ventured, largely oblivious of the art, as he rose to inspect the log book which Cadil had asked about. “I don’t think this is his diary or anything,” Nal’s mouth dropped into a line as he squinted against the light of the small window. “Seems like a collection of observations .. all in different handwriting. I guess that all the Guards use it when they’re posted here.” Flipping back the pages, from the blank ones which he’d torn out, ready, to those written in toward the front of the book, Unalmis suddenly froze as the letters of a very recent entry became defined enough to identify. “Apparently a prisoner has escaped from the city dungeon,” he shared the news with his friend, glancing up to gauge Cadil’s reaction. “Says an Umbarian … oh, no. But it’s a woman ..”

Letting the book fall slack in his hand, the Ranger paused for thought and found a very different line than he’d been hoping to flag down. “There’s the shelf here,” he realised aloud, one finger strumming over the hole in the small book, through which a slender rope passed, and held in place with a small knot. “The book is hung from a string that’s caught around a .. ” Brown eyes glanced up. “Did you say you needed a nail ?” he asked, one eyebrow rising in pursuit of the suggestion.

That was something which the knife could manage. Particularly damaged as it was. The tip had blunted somewhat by the determined blows against the wall before. Part had even broken off, and Nal might have cursed at any other time to notice. His father was going to kill him ! But first, first they would have to get out of here. Adjusting his stance in the cramped space, so he could come at it from a more advantageous angle, Unalmis set to work at prising the nail out of the shelf.

“Are they still out there ?” he asked, without turning. And really it was rather rude to assume that his friend would stop what he was doing. But Cadil was by the door. He was better aligned to look out of the window, and if he couldn’t do anything until he had a nail .. or something ..

“If your belt has a buckle, you could break off the pin, if this doesn’t come out,” he mentioned. And then randomly back on topic of another topic .. thoughts were spilling in like a room filling with water, from a dozen holes. “Really we might take note of what the wagon looks like too. How many horses are pulling it, the size of the wheels .. is there anything stored on it .. can you see ?” Nal spewed out sentences as he worked, incapable of keeping them to himself. They could not see the two men any more .. but the wagon betrayed their presence still at hand. And, after all, chances were that the Umbarian would be gone by the time they were capable of following him. Their chances of following him then, were greatly improved by knowing what they would be looking for when they did get out.


Because they were going to get out. Nal returned focus on the stubborn nail, tugging at intervals upon the string tied to it, as though he could heave the thing right out of the wood it was embedded in. A more sturdy 'splinter' this time, and hopefully one which would be of use. In a way it already was. For whether Cadil would manage to perform an escape with the nail or no; it felt good to be managing something even remotely productive. They were not done yet. They had options, ideas. They were going to get out. Together.

@Arnyn
After taking a moment to examine the nail, and the scrap of cloth on it, Duinion gazed ahead, and noticed that the young forest could be seen through the gap. In fact, he could almost imagine that he was looking at the very spot where they had found the horse's tracks. While he couldn't confirm this without going over there and checking, he thought it looked about right. He frowned slightly, thinking about that, imagining what Eryn must have seen when she was here. Could she see her horse? Was she trying to get to Buttercup? And what would have happened if she had made it there? What would the girl who was waiting have done?

He was considering these things when Arnyn appeared through the gap. He thought at first that she must have gone around, and figured he ought to do the same. He definitely couldn't fit through this gap. His attention was drawn to the signs Arnyn had pointed out, and peered through the hole to try and get a look, but it was difficult to see very much from here. Hearing that Eryn may have been forcibly turned from where she wanted to go, his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to keep his anger at bay. If this man had harmed Eryn in any way... he was definitely going to regret it.

He needed to get out there and see the tracks for himself, he decided. Just as he was thinking of that, Arnyn mentioned there was a doorway just in the next room. He was a bit surprised, and backed away from the hole to find it. It only took seconds before he had joined the lieutenant on the other side of the wall, and frowned as he examined the tracks for himself. Inwardly, he was struggling not to panic too much, but the more they were discovering, the more difficult it was to keep calm. He needed to keep his head clear, but his thoughts were crowding in and flooding his mind, making it a little harder to focus on what he needed to focus on. He took a slow, slightly shaky breath.

"Yes," He agreed with a slow nod. "Looks like they struggled," He rubbed his forehead with one hand, frowning unhappily at the signs that showed some sort of fight. The grass here didn't show things as clearly as he would have liked, but he could tell that there was a struggle, that Hattie had been involved, and... he swallowed as he kneeled down, spotting a small amount of blood on a couple of blades of grass, which the rain hadn't managed to wash away. It took a lot to remind himself that the man had apparently been injured enough to need bandaging, or so he believed. He remembered the sleeve he had found, and how ripped up it had been. "This might be where the man was injured." He mentioned, hoping that was the case, and not Eryn's blood he was seeing.

With his gaze locked on the signs before him, he finally ventured to ask something which had been troubling him for the past several minutes. "You said there was a corpse in the cellar," He ventured quietly, then cleared his throat. "Murdered?" He guessed, slowly looking up at Arnyn, while he put forth his best effort to keep from showing how anxious he was feeling. He managed not to show it too much, though it wouldn't be hard to guess he was upset and worried. "How bad was it?" He asked quietly, before explaining his reason for asking, "Because.. Eryn was down there... she must have seen..." He stood upright again, his brow creased in worry. "And.. she must have caught the murderer here, doing.. something." he realized, troubled by that thought. "And then he chased her.. And.." He dropped his gaze back to the ground before them, taking in the signs of a struggle once again. He suddenly felt desperate to find some sign that Eryn had been alive after this struggle. He swallowed. He needed to find her, right away.

@Rillewen
She nodded when Duinion suggested this might have been where the man got injured. "By Eryn... or Hattie. Would Hattie not be vexed if she encountered Eryn struggling against someone?" Arnyn asked Duinion. "Dog's teeth and jaws can do a lot of damage," she mumbled.

Duinion's subject switch to the corpse in the cellar, surprised Arnyn. She returned his look thoughtfully. "I would say so," she replied to his question about murder. When the Tirdinen explained his reasoning, she frowned. "If the murderer came back here, surely it would not be for the corpse,' she mused, processing her thoughts out loud. "If the murderer came back here, he must have had some other reason." That bothered her.

And then suddenly she got hit in the face by what was bothering Duinion. Of course. "Focus on finding Eryn's tracks," she ordered him resolutely. Not that he would not have done so, anyway. But she needed to channel his thoughts to something useful, rather than panicked speculation. "They led us here. They should lead us elsewhere."

Kaylin came up behind them, not wanting to circle around and possibly disturb any tracks. "You think the murderer is using these ruins as some kind of home base?" she asked dubiously. "There is nothing here."

The Lieutenant frowned as her eyes scoured the grass. "Nothing that we have been able to tell," she replied distractedly.

@Arnyn
As Arnyn confirmed that the corpse in the cellar was murdered, Duinion forced himself to take a slow, steady breath. Or, as steady as he could manage. The thought of Eryn being chased and attacked by a murderer was not a comforting one at all. If he had killed before, then...

Focus on finding Eryn's tracks. Yes. With his jaw set determinedly, he nodded slowly, but he couldn't shake the dreadful thought. Especially when Kaylin asked if they thought the murderer had, perhaps, used this place as a home base. So far, Duinion had seen no sign to indicate that the man had been living here or even staying here more than the time it took him to chase and attack Eryn, but his thoughts flitted to the cabin. That had looked as if someone had at least spent the night there. Could it be a coincidence? He found it doubtful, but he tried not to disregard the possibility. If the killer had come here, expecting it to be abandoned but livable, he might have been surprised to find it burned down, and then he might have sought out some other place to stay while he did.. whatever he had come to do. If he had come across Duinion's abandoned former home, Duinion could see why it would seem like a good spot to take over, but it still felt extremely unlikely for such a thing to have happened purely by chance.

Eryn's tracks were the only thing he could really rely on, at the moment. The only thing that were likely to lead him to finding her. He looked around the area where the scuffle had occured, hoping to see some indication of what direction they had gone from here. His frown deepened as he noticed a little patch of grass that had been slightly flattened, as if a small body had laid there. He crouched and examined this spot, his face intent with concentration as he determined not to jump to conclusions that would only upset him. It was too small to have been Eryn, and there had been no signs of any young children present. Therefore, he could only conclude that it was Hattie who had been lying here. And that made him uneasy in his gut. What if the dog had attacked the man, and what if she had been killed as a result?

His thoughts jumped back to the ripped up sleeve, and thought that Arnyn's suggestion made sense; the rips and shreds in the cloth would match up with a dog's teeth biting and slashing through flesh. He knew that Hattie did like to chew things, and he had seen her get her teeth into something, and then she would shake her head viciously, and try her best to rip the thing to shreds. The only thing that really surprised him, was that she had apparently gone for the man's arm, rather than his boots. He swallowed down his fears, not letting the words come out. No jumping to premature conclusions, he reminded himself.

Just at that moment, Sarina called to them from where she and Vorondil were working their way around the ruins. "There's some more tracks over here!"

Duinion looked toward them. At first, he thought maybe they had merely spotted the same tracks that they had followed from the forest to the burned house, but then he noticed that they were standing in a different location, and although these other tracks were close, they seemed to veer so as to enter the forest at a different point, further away from the house. Eager for a fresh clue, Duinion hastened over to see for himself, although careful not to step on any tracks that might lie between the house and the other two rangers. The freshly rained-upon grass did a good job of hiding any of those, but a few signs were visible, here and there.

As he approached Sarina and Vorondil, he saw where she was pointing, and nodded as a quick check showed that the tracks seemed to come from where they had just been. And, yes, thank goodness, Eryn's tracks were there. It showed that she had been walking alongside the man, which troubled him, but at least she was walking, and not being carried.

Slowly inhaling, then exhaling even slower, Duinion examined both tracks, and followed as they entered the forest at a further point than where the horses and the other girl had waited. Duinion frowned slightly, wondering why that was, but then, the man must have had some plan in mind. Duinion just didn't know exactly what it was. "Let's see where he took her from this point," He muttered, trying his best to smother down the anger he felt at the thought of this man taking Eryn anywhere. He was only glad that, at this point, she had still been on her own feet.

@Rillewen
Arnyn held Kaylin back a little as Duinion moved quickly to inspect the tracks Sarina had found. The Lieutenant spoke quietly to the Hyandaner. "If we find Eryn, and something has happened to her..." she lifted a hand to stall any protest - "If, Kaylin. If. I do not know how Duinion will respond. I think you might be the one here who has the best understanding with him - out of the four of us," she continued, referring to Vorondil, Sarina, Kaylin and herself. "But Eryn is also your friend. Would you be able to stand it?"

Kaylin's expression darkened. "Of course I would not be able to stand it, Lieutenant. But I'd deal with it, if that's what you mean."

Arnyn nodded, her eyes fixed on Kaylin. "All I mean is - he's her father, Kaylin." She emphasized the word.

Kaylin frowned, crossing her arms. She knew that. "I know, Lieutenant," she mumbled defiantly. But when Arnyn did not look away, Kaylin nodded begrudgingly. "Don't worry," she finally said, and sighed. "But I choose to believe she's fine."

The Lieutenant started off after Duinion and the others. "So do I," she stated firmly. "But it's my job to prepare for the worst, as well."

Reaching the edge of the forest just when Duinion had entered (Arnyn had not needed to follow any tracks, only the other rangers, after all), she ordered Sarina to stay put and watch. "Vorondil, come with us for now. Once Sarina becomes impossible to see, tell me." With no more than a tilt of her head to Kaylin, Arnyn followed Duinion.

@Arnyn
A few yards into the forest, he began to worry that the tracks may become harder to read, for though the woods were young and almost all of the trees were still only saplings, still they had a few years' growth already, as well as a couple of autumn's worth of leaf-fall already accumulated to blanket the ground. But then, just as he was beginning to fear he would lose the trail, a slow smile broke out on his face as he noticed a slight disturbance in the fallen leaves, as if someone had scuffed the ground ever so slightly with a heel. Another step or two onward, the same thing occurred, and soon there was a steady trail of these to show him the way. "Eryn," He murmured under his breath, as he felt certain it was not the kidnapper's doing.

Here and there, a stick or pebble was scuffed out of place, and a couple of times, he could see where a ball of a foot had twisted into the ground as they walked along. "That's my girl," He commented to himself, after checking a couple of things that verified to him that the tracks were made by a barefooted person. He looked up, about the time that Kaylin and Arnyn were rejoining him. "Eryn's left us a trail." He said with a faint smile, feeling somewhat hopeful as he pointed it out. He added with a touch of pride, "I'm not surprised, for that is exactly the sort of thing that was lacking with those other tracks... but I am relieved." It was indeed a relief to know she had been clear-headed enough to think of leaving a trail, and that she'd been walking on her own feet so that she was able to do this. Furthermore, it seemed to him as if the kidnapper had intentionally laid that other trail that would lead them elsewhere, following the girl who was not Eryn. So, he likely expected them to follow that, rather than persist on backtracking until they arrived at this place. Duinion wondered if the man had any idea Eryn had done this, and if he would be upset if he found out. Hopefully, it had not brought any punishment down on her.

While he had not forgotten his own concerns about this being a trap, he felt that it was very unlikely it the man had intended on the rangers ever finding this place, so it seemed logical to Duinion that his trap would not be here. Therefore, he was far more focused on tracking down where he had taken Eryn. Perhaps it was careless, but he was growing more and more anxious about her safety, and it was beginning to feel almost like a race against time, as if she could be in grave peril and if he didn't find her in time, it would be too late. He couldn't help but feel like he needed to hurry and find her.

After following the trail for a while, he stopped and frowned as signs of of another struggle appeared, and he tried to make sense of it. He glanced around, then crouched down to examine the signs thoughtfully. "I'm not sure what happened here," He stood and stepped back, tilting his head as he tried to take in the whole picture. "Perhaps.. she tripped on this branch," He made a guess, motioning to a branch crossing the path that they had been taking thus far. It appeared to have been moved as if kicked, and just beyond that, it looked as if someone had hit the ground on their knees. Based on the size of the knee-impressions in the ground, he guessed it was Eryn, but the other person had also hit the ground, nearby, probably on their side or back, if he was right. Some of the signs around the spot were unclear, and it didn't make a lot of sense to him. "Lieutenant?" He wondered what she might make of this, finding it a bit puzzling.

---

(Private)



Heart hammering in her chest, Eryn took the first few steps, forced to rely on the man for guidance, and hating every bit of it. There must be something she could do about this. She couldn’t see where they were going, but she could feel the uneven ground beneath her feet. She focused on her other senses, the best she could. First, they crossed the meadow, and she believed they were heading east-ish, judging by the angle of the afternoon sun’s warmth shining on her. But after a while, it felt different, and the ground felt more like a forest underfoot. She heard sounds that seemed to confirm this, though it didn’t feel like a very old or tall forest. It didn't have the right sort of smell for an old forest, and the trees didn't seem to come up high enough to block the sun entirely, and the growth felt as if it was clustering together tightly. She wished she could see where they were, as it would make it much easier for her to try and break free from him. But, of course, that was the idea, she supposed.

She had a terrible feeling that he was up to something very bad. The fact that he was planning to use her somehow was unsettling. The fact that he knew exactly who she was made her more uncomfortable.. it was frightening, even. And the fact there was a decaying corpse in the cellar, and he didn’t seem phased by it, terrified her even more. He must have already known about that dead woman, then. Most likely, he was the cause for her being there. What was he going to do with Eryn? And where was he taking her? They were so isolated out here that no one had found that woman, though she must have been there for months, if not longer than a year. Therefore, it seemed equally unlikely that anyone would find Eryn if he killed her here. Anyone…except an expert tracker, she amended her thoughts. An expert tracker.. like her father. But what if there was no trail to follow? She had very little experience in that sort of thing, herself, but she tried to think swiftly. It would be easier for him to find her if he had a few signs to follow. With that in mind, she purposely stumbled a bit, making sure that her foot scuffed the ground slightly.

“Watch your step,” He snapped, jerking on her arm.

“I can’t, Stupid.” Eryn retorted, slightly annoyed by his choice of words, after he had blindfolded her. “Shoulda’ thought of that before you blindfolded me, maybe?” She added, and would have rolled her eyes but couldn’t. “And, do you have to grip my arm so tight?”

Mar scowled and tightened his grip a little more. “Can’t risk you running off. Now come on.” He jerked her arm roughly to make her keep walking.

Eryn winced, but also, to her surprise, felt as if the ropes binding her wrists had loosened somewhat. She was quite surprised by this, and tried to keep him distracted while she tested to see if she could work it any looser. “Blindfolded, really? Do you think I’m an idiot?” She asked with a huff of incredulity.

“Debatable. You’re friends with Anal-mess,” He snickered softly to himself. “I question the intelligence of anyone who’d be friendly with him.”

Eryn paused, annoyed to hear him use that same pronunciation as earlier. There was no mistaking it, this time. She would have glared at him, if her face hadn’t been covered. Staggering forward as he yanked her arm, she had little choice but to walk forward. She had no luck in working the ropes loose, but at least it wasn’t digging in so much, now. As she walked, Eryn let her toes dig into the ground a little bit for the next few steps as she was forced to keep up with him, hoping the ground was soft enough to leave some tracks. Hoping, at least, that it would be enough for him to find and see that she had been walking here. “I don’t know who you are, but don’t like you talking that way about my friend.” She scowled, though he couldn’t see her face.

“Am I supposed to care how you feel about it?” He laughed. “Just shut up and keep walking.”

Eryn frowned and went quiet, quietly letting her heels skim the ground every few steps, as might happen naturally if one didn’t lift their feet up quite enough. All the while, she was subtly trying to work her wrists loose from the rope. Without success, unfortunately. They walked on for a while. Every few paces, she gave her foot a little twist into the ground as she stepped, trying to make sure there was a little sign left for her dad to find. She continued to try and leave a track now and then, hoping that it was actually working, since she couldn’t see whether it was. She believed her dad would be able to spot even the tiniest little scuff or bent blade of grass, but still, she would like to leave something a little more obvious, if possible. Make it easier on him.

She felt as if they walked for a long way. But then, for all she knew, they could be walking in circles, since she couldn't see. That was frustrating but she couldn't do anything about it. Feeling a small stone underfoot, she tried to quickly work it loose with her toes, in the time it took to take the next step and move on. Soon after, she tripped on a stick or branch that was lying across her path, and let out a little grunt of pain as she tumbled down to her knees.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He grumbled. “Get up,” He grabbed her arm again, and dragged her upright.

Thinking swiftly as the opportunity presented itself, Eryn hooked her leg around his and, using a technique she had learned recently, managed to throw him off balance so that he was thrown to the ground. She had no particular plan in mind, but just reacted to the situation, and hoped for the best. As he grunted in surprise, she heard the thud as he hit the ground. Despite the blindfold that kept her from seeing where she was going, Eryn set off into a random direction; left. While she didn't quite expect to get away from him for good, she was hoping to accomplish something, at least. Even if it was only to leave some better sort of clue for her dad to find. Or, perhaps, buy herself some time to get her wrists free. If she could stall long enough to get to the knife in her belt, she could cut the ropes. If she could free her wrists, it would be easy enough to get rid of the blindfold, and then she'd have a chance at escaping him entirely. With any luck, the man would be stunned and it might take him a moment to get back up…

@Rillewen
"You've taught her well," Arnyn smiled faintly as Duinion pointed out the intentional marks Eryn had been leaving behind. As Kaylin and Arnyn were following Duinion, Arnyn was keeping an eye on Eryn's trail. The man was walking beside her, it seemed. When Duinion slowed to a halt, the two women both looked around with focused frowns. "Tripped?" Arnyn mumbled questioningly. "She would have seen the branch, usually. She may have been blindfolded then."

Kaylin tilted her head, almost defiantly. "Or," the redhead suggested with some sass, "she could see just fine and she tripped intentionally. It could have given her an opportunity, you know." She looked at Arnyn. "Come on, Lieutenant. You're into hand-to-hand, too, right?"

Arnyn's frown deepened as she looked at the tracks. "Kaylin might have a point." She pointed at the knee prints beyond the branch. "If Eryn fell..." She gestured at the bootprints right next to them. "The man turned here. Maybe to pull her up after falling. The toes of his boots are turned more sideways here, it would fit. She might have used an opening to make him fall... which would explain that," she added, pointing at a larger area of flattened grass. "Where do the prints go from here?" she mused out loud, focusing on Eryn's foot prints.

Kaylin grinned. "I think she bolted. That-away." The redhead pointed left. "I think I can see some distinctive 'toe-prints' over here."

@Ercassie , @Rillewen
Cadil
With Nal, in the guard house at the South Gate
The last day of Autumn (last year)

Cadil was still mostly just groping around the door with his hands rather than looking at it, but he stopped and sat back unto his heels when he heard all the various ideas and questions coming from his friend. That was Unalmis as he knew him, hundreds of thoughts spouting forth. A grin formed on Cadil's face, though he was still facing the door - and perhaps it was for the good.

"I'm not sure I have a nail in that bag, but you can look," he responded. "Just don't squish my sandwiches too much, if they aren't already from all that tossing my bag has been through today. And no, I ain't damaging my belt to let you see what colour my knickers are, and not to Rip especially, when he sees us escaping. The man's gotta protect his pride, y'know."

He frowned at the information of an escaped Umbarian - the guards apparently did not do their work hard enough; but he wondered briefly if it might be someone he had come to know about from his adventures. And then he gave up studying the door though and pressed his face against the window to try and see as good a look as he could.

"Suppose they are still there somewhere, I hear voices. The wagon with... barrels, I think. Can't see the horses. Ah, they appeared, think our guard is inspecting the barrels or something," he commented on what he could see. "Did you get that nail out, Nal? I wonder what's in them barrels, though... Apples? Wine?"

@Arnyn
"Or," Duinion added another possibility to the theories presented, "it was already dark when these tracks were made." He shrugged. If it was dark, then it would account for Eryn having not seen something in her path. By this point, it would be difficult to pinpoint the exact hour that these tracks had been left. At best, he could tell it was sometime before the rain, but not much before. He wasn't sure exactly when the rain had started, though, since he and Domanol had been busy building that silly pillow fort most of the evening, but wasn't it right around dark that he remembered hearing rain on the roof? Still, a part of him liked the idea that Eryn had been able to see exactly what she was doing, and that she'd purposely tripped in order to create an opportunity to escape.

As Kaylin pointed out the tracks leading off to the left of where they stood, Duinion ventured closer to take a look. It was definitely Eryn's tracks, he was sure of that. Unfortunately, it looked as if the boots came after her. But not running. That seemed a bit odd, but he focused on the footprints first.

Eryn's tracks seemed odd to him. He frowned, noticing she did not seem to go in a straight line, but weaved and stumbled, like a drunk person might walk. Since he knew that she would not have been drunk, there were only a few possible explanations he could think of. One he did not like, was that perhaps she'd been forced to drink something that messed with her coordination, but that wouldn't make sense if the man was making her walk to their destination alongside him. Perhaps it had been too dark for her to see where she was going? That seemed to him like the most logical. He contemplated this for a moment while as he noticed some broken twigs on some thick underbrush. It was as if she had forced her way through the brush, instead of going around, which would have been easier and not very far out of the way. It appeared like she had kept going for a few yards, and then just stopped short. His frown deepened as he looked at where the ground was scuffed, as if she had stopped abruptly. He glanced around, but the man's tracks didn't come near this particular spot. What could have stopped her? A threat, perhaps? But she didn't seem to turn and go back toward him, for which he was glad. But why did she stop at all?

He went to inspect the boot tracks, and found it more puzzling that the man had apparently stood up from where he fell, and then walked after Eryn. His steps did not look hurried, like a captor chasing an escaped captive. "Strange," He muttered, puzzled, and worried, about whatever had occurred here. "She broke free, then just stopped. Why?" he spoke mostly to himself, but if anyone else was near enough to hear, they were welcome to offer input. "Did she hear something that made her stop? Did he threaten her somehow?" He tried to puzzle out the possible reasons behind this, thinking out loud. "Perhaps.. she was trying to listen to her surroundings, to determine if he was pursuing..?" He muttered under his breath, glancing back toward where they had both fallen. "No way of knowing how long he was on the ground before he got back up," He pointed out, still mostly to himself. He considered whether maybe Eryn had started running, then, hearing no sound of pursuit, paused to listen. Perhaps the man was knocked unconscious when he fell down?

But still.. why would she stop so abruptly? "Makes no sense," He frowned as he held out his hands slightly on either side of him, in a puzzled sort of gesture, unable to come up with any logical reason for this. Another thing that didn't make sense; why did the man not seem in a hurry to recapture her? Had he been knocked out, and then went searching when he awakened? Or, was it because he believed she could not go far and felt no need to hurry? That would seem to support Arnyn's suggestion that she had been blindfolded, but it seemed odd to Duinion that she would try and run off in a forest at all, with a blindfold on. For it to be dark would make more sense; then, there was hope of using whatever moon or star light there was, to see by. With no way of knowing the answers to these questions, Duinion turned his gaze downward and scanned the ground thoughtfully, trying to locate something that might offer some insight to this riddle.

As her tracks seemed to vanish at this point, he raised his eyes up to the charred tree trunks dotted around the young forest, all that was left of the original trees. It had occurred to him that perhaps she'd managed to climb into a tree, but none showed any indication of having been climbed, nor were any very tall, nor suitable for climbing. Just a lot of scorched stumps rising up amid the young growth. He let out a sigh and turned his gaze back to the ground, seeking some clue. "What were you doing, Eryn?" He wondered, speaking under his breath. "Where did you go?" Without much else to go on, it seemed he would only find the answer to this riddle when he had found her, and asked her this, himself. So, he needed to find where her tracks resumed.

Going back to where Eryn had stopped, he looked around some more, and began slowly circling outward from that point. After a little bit, he stopped and bent down to examine a twig that had broken in two. It looked as if it'd been stepped on, and that gave him some hope. Was she trying to sneak, then? Was that why her trail practically vanished so suddenly? Perhaps she had realized she was making too much noise running, and stopped swiftly so she could move more stealthily, and confuse or hide from her captor. That made sense, at least. Mentally, Duinion drew an imaginary line from the place where she'd stopped, to the broken twig, and then traveled slowly in that direction until he came to a sudden stop, himself.

He had come to the top of a rock overhang. Below him was a short drop to the ground. The dirt at the top was disturbed, and he frowned in slight dismay, seeing evidence that showed that someone had slid and tumbled down from here. He could only guess that it was Eryn, which is what troubled him, but at least it didn't appear to be a very long fall. Barely more than her height, he estimated. Still, if she couldn't see where she was going, she could have been hurt upon landing. He hoped she was alright.

Mindful of his own ankle(which was bothering him a little, despite him ignoring it) he walked down one side to get to the base of the overhang, and frowned as he found a cluster of prints there. The boot prints had landed heavily here, as if the man had hopped down from the top. The leaves were disturbed in such a way, he could only guess that was where Eryn had fallen. "Looks like he jumped down here, and landed beside her," He commented, to anyone who had followed him this far. He stood back, gazing at the tracks that he saw there with a thoughtful little frown before noticing something of interest. Beneath where the rock hung over the earth, the ground was bare and dry. The prints were very clear, and no rain had managed to disturb the prints there. He could make out clear prints that showed Eryn had stood there, her back to the rock, with the man facing her (threatening her, he guessed, which was upsetting but he tried to put that from his mind). But that was not what had caught his interest. Rather, it was the writing in the dirt just behind Eryn's prints that intrigued him most.

Crouching near the spot, Duinion tried to make sense of the two numbers written there. "Eighty-eight?" He tilted his head, trying to think of what this message could mean. He felt sure that it was Eryn who had written it; her footprints showed that she had stood there, lifted one foot and then put it back down. And the writing, positioned just behind her heels, was somewhat sloppy, as if written blindly. His guess was that she had used her toe to write the message swiftly, then put her foot back down to cover it. And that made him wonder if maybe it wasn't too dark to see, since otherwise, why would she need to hide the message from her captor? But what he really wanted to know, was what in Arda '88' was supposed to mean?

---

(Private)



She really had no idea what she meant to do. Maybe she just wanted to feel as if she’d at least made an
attempt at escaping. And she hoped, somehow, to get her hands free. If she could do that, then she could pull off the blindfold, and then she'd had much better chances of getting away from him. As she went, she was thinking rapidly. What was he planning to do with her, anyway? What could he want with her, that he would bring her out in some forest, which was apparently even more isolated than that remote place where they had been previously? She recalled him saying that he was going to 'help him' somehow. With what? And he'd said all she would be doing is 'staying put'. What would that accomplish?

As she bumped her shoulder against what she could only assume was a tree, her thoughts were racing. He wanted her to stay put.. somewhere. Which meant... of course. He didn't want her to go home. Why? What could he gain by keeping her from going home? Aside from the fact that it meant she couldn't tell anyone what she'd seen and found... No, that couldn't be it. If he only wanted to keep her quiet, then he could have just killed her. He clearly had no problem killing people. Besides, he'd said he needed her alive, she recalled. But why? Not that she wasn't glad for that, but the fact that he specifically said he intended to use her for some purpose that involved her staying somewhere.. but not killing her... that was worrying as well as confusing. So what was his game? What would he gain by her not coming home?

If she didn't come home, then her family would worry. Her dad would definitely come looking for her. This guy must know that. And then it hit her; what if that was what he wanted? But why would he want Duinion to come after him? That was just asking for trouble, right? Unless... if he was expecting her father to come looking for her.. then he must have some reason for it. She remembered that he had known exactly who she was, and who her father was, so he must be some enemy of her dad's, right? And that meant... oh, of course. He was planning to use her as some sort of bait! He was making a trap... for her father? And she'd been leaving a trail for him to follow. Would that lead him right into this trap? What if the man had been aware all along that she was leaving a trail, and let her do it so he could use it for his trap! Maybe she shouldn't have done that, then. Her dad might be walking into some danger because of her! She had to get away from this guy, and maybe find some way to warn her dad, but she couldn't think of any way to do that just yet.

Tripping over a bush, Eryn let out a little grunt of discomfort as she hit the ground. But she didn’t let that deter her; up she got quickly, and on she went. Until…

“You’re about to fall off the cliff!” The man’s voice called out with a hint of amusement. He sounded as if he had not moved from where he'd fallen.

Eryn skidded to a halt in alarm. Was there really a cliff? Frustration welled up inside her. She couldn’t get her hands free, so she couldn’t get this stupid blindfold off, and therefore, she couldn’t see whether there was any danger or not! But she couldn't just stand here, either. She had to get away from him, somehow. Cautiously, she reached one foot out as far as she could, tentatively tapping the ground ahead of her with one foot until she deemed it solid enough. She shifted her weight forward, then repeated the process with the other foot as she took one cautious step after another. Why hadn’t he come after her, she wondered? She tested another step, and moved forward. “There’s no cliff,” She muttered to herself.

No sooner had she uttered the words, than she moved forward onto what had felt like solid ground to her probing foot, but the moment she shifted her weight onto that foot… the ground seemed to slide abruptly out from beneath her foot. Eryn gasped in fright as she pitched forward. Terror suddenly seized her as she fell with a startled little shriek. He wasn't lying; there was a cliff after all!

As she hit the ground seconds later, Eryn heard him laughting from nearby. Her wrists hurt from that jostling impact, her knee felt a bit scraped from hitting a rock or something as she slid, and she was a little sore on her side from hitting the ground. But, despite feeling a little stunned from the landing, she realized it couldn’t have been a very long drop. More than anything, she was angry and frustrated, and she wanted to kick him in the mouth or something for laughing at her. But before she could try and get up on her own, she heard the man hop down to join her at the base of the 'cliff', and then he dragged her upright, pushing her back against something solid. Like a very large rock, perhaps. He was not very gentle with doing so, either. She let out a little ‘umph’ from the impact.

“Guess you are an idiot after all, huh?" He was laughing quite hard and took a moment to calm his amusement. "What is it with you red-haired girls?” He wondered incredulously. “Does that fiery colored hair automatically mean a fiery temperament to go along with it? That you feel compelled to 'fight to the very end', or some nonsense like that?” She could almost hear the eye-rolling going on, but couldn't see him. He lost his mirth suddenly, as one arm pressed like a bar against her collarbone, pushing her into the rock and dirt behind her upper back, so that she was forced to bend slightly backward awkwardly. “You try anything like that again,” He snarled, close to her ear, “and I’ll cut off your hands and send one to your daddy, and one to Unalmis. Got it?”

Eryn froze, remembering the corpse who had been missing fingers, and nodded slowly, unsure what else to do. She couldn’t see to fight him, and she couldn’t get to her hidden knife without him seeing and getting it away from her. She had no doubt that this man would do what he was threatening, too. He'd obviously done similar to that poor unknown woman in the cellar, after all...

Despite that, Eryn wasn't just standing there in terror of the murderer. While he was focused on threatening her, Eryn noticed what felt like loose, dry dirt under her feet. Bringing one foot behind her slightly, she used her toe to write a hasty message in the dirt, hoping her father would see it and catch on to what she was trying to tell him. She also hoped it was clear enough to read it, since she couldn't see what she was doing. The message was only two symbols: 'B8'

Once she had nodded, he backed off. "Good. Now come on, I don't have all day." He pulled her away from the rock and made her walk along with him again, only pausing for a moment once they had climbed up a short slope. She thought he seemed to pick up something somewhat heavy, but she had no idea what that might be, and soon they were walking onward again.

@Rillewen
Vorondil had stopped a while back, and Arnyn had indicated for him to go back to Sarina. Meanwhile, Kaylin narrowed her eyes when Duinion said Eryn had just stopped at some point. There could have been so many reasons why Eryn had stopped. She'd seen something - if she hadn't been blindfolded - or she'd heard something, or she'd realized something. "Doesn't really matter why she stopped, does it?" Kaylin said thoughtfully. "As long as it wasn't due to injury, I mean."

Arnyn nodded slowly. "Nothing indicates injury at least." She was more interested in the contrast between Eryn's prints and the man's. "The man was in no hurry," she observed. "He clearly didn't think Eryn would get far."

They followed Duinion to the rock overhang. Arnyn and Kaylin waited on the top while Duinion was analysing the tracks. So Eryn had fallen and the man had jumped. Arnyn's lips twitched. She moved away a few paces, off to the side, so she definitely wouldn't disturb the tracks, and then jumped down herself. Kaylin just went round, like Duinion had.

The news that Eryn had written eighty-eight in the ground, made both the female rangers frown with a lack of understanding. "Eighty-eight?" Arnyn repeated in a mumble. That made no sense. She approached to take a look herself. "Hmm. Eighty-eight. That doesn't seem right. It's not some sort of code you two thought of when she was a small child?" The Lieutenant tried, grasping at anything that might be of help. "Or it's not about the actual number, but rather the way it sounds, maybe? Ate-ee-ate?" Arnyn's frown deepened. "No, that's not it, either," she mumbled, replying to her own question.

Kaylin cleared her throat and Arnyn moved out of the way a little. "You two got eighty-eight from this?"

Arnyn looked puzzled. "Maybe she didn't want to write eighty-eight at all. But it's just.. How it came out."

The redheaded Hyandaner crouched down and let her finger follow the course of the writing - with a very light touch, as not to disturb anything. "This..." She paused. "That first 8. I don't think it's an 8 at all. I think it's the letter B. The left side is much too straight. Eryn could have written BB. Though it looks more like the letter B and then the number 8, to me." She shrugged. "I don't know. Still doesn't make any sense."

"B8," Arnyn tested out loud, and the coin suddenly dropped for both Arnyn and Kaylin. Their heads turned at the same time, to look at Duinion. Arnyn almost smiled faintly. "She was warning you."

@Arnyn
The puzzlement shared by the other two was both a mild disappointment, that they could not shed any light on the matter, as well a vague relief, that he was not the only one in confusion here. But Eryn must have written it for a reason. He shook his head slightly when she asked about a code from Eryn's childhood. He briefly wondered if it might be some sort of code thing that she and Unalmis had created together.. maybe she had expected him to be there with Duinion?

Could it be something to do with steps? Like, perhaps she had been counting her steps.. he knew that Unalmis had a habit of trying to navigate his way around the barracks and other areas in the dark, as if he were blind. Had he been teaching Eryn the same sort of thing? But how could that be helpful? He found it very difficult to believe she would have gone to this much trouble to get a chance to write something, to leave a message for someone to find, and it not hold some great importance.

Just as he was beginning to stretch his imagination toward the thought that maybe she had been trying to share with him some sort of important number that they would need to know further on, Kaylin pointed out a detail that he had overlooked. Perhaps, if he had taken more time to inspect the writing, he would have caught this himself, but he was glad that Kaylin had noticed it, anyway. Even if he would have figured it out, it might not have been as quick. And every moment counted, he felt.

"B..?" He muttered, mildly surprised as well as still a little confused. So, it was a B and an eight, but that still didn't mean much to him. Swiftly in his mind, he was racing through all possibilities. Someone with the name B? But then what did the eight mean? Perhaps it was actually two B's? Or, eight of something that started with B? Staring at the message his daughter had left him, Duinion felt somewhat baffled as well as anxious, and felt as if the answer was probably staring him in the face, like with a tricky riddle. He must be overthinking it, right? He held back a frustrated sigh, and instead frowned as he stared intently at the two figures scratched into the dirt. B8... 'Bee eight'? Be... ate?

As Arnyn spoke the letter and number out loud, the realization struck Duinion just about the same time as it hit the two women. Of course. "Bait..." The word slipped out softly under his breath as he realized. He let out a faint laugh, not so much from amusement but in relief that he knew what her message meant, now. "Oh, Eryn," He murmured softly, and blinked back a light mist in his eyes as he thought of how hard Eryn must have fought to give him this warning. He already knew it was a trap, but this made him wonder if she knew exactly where and how the trap was to be set. Obviously, she knew that she was the bait. Too bad she couldn't have told them more, but he understood why she couldn't.

Running a hand over his face, he paused for a moment to regain his composure, then gave a small nod. "Right. So, she knew by this point why she was being abducted," He spoke thoughtfully as he tried to figure out what that might mean to Eryn, while also struggling to keep his emotions in check. He frowned, trying to think of how she might react to this information. The most likely idea he came up with made his heart sink a little. "It might be harder to find her trail after this." He mentioned regretfully, with a glance at Arnyn. If that was the case, they might have to work together again. Or spread out and search, as they'd done at the cabin. "We'll see." He took a look around the area, and found that there was clear evidence of both Eryn and her captor coming up the slope to return to the top of the overhanging rock. They had gone to the other side than where Duinion had come down, so he was glad he hadn't messed up their tracks.

At the top again, he frowned as he looked around for some indication of what direction they had gone from here. Unfortunately, he couldn't yet see any trace of where they might have gone, thanks to the leaves covering the ground. Mentally, he begged Eryn to have left a trail, but saw no sign that she had done so. That was what he'd feared; she'd warned him of the trap, then stopped leaving a trail so not to lead him into it. He sighed softly, shaking his head a tiny bit as he began to slowly circle outward in search of another clue. While it was a bit of a setback, and a delay he didn't like, it certainly wasn't going to stop him from finding his daughter.

---

(Private)



Eryn felt torn about leaving a trail. On the one hand, she wanted her dad to find her and save her. The sooner the better. But on the other hand... if it meant he was walking into a trap and would be in danger, she wanted to keep him far away. Was she safe, she wondered? Would he keep her alive even if her dad didn't show up when he expected him to? What would he do to her, if her dad didn't come within the time he was expecting?

Then again, she knew her dad was familiar with things like this. It was his business, dealing with people like this. He'd faced orcs and Haradrim and all sorts of hostile invaders for longer than Eryn had been alive. He was also exceptional at setting traps himself, she knew, so he surely knew how to get around someone else's, right? But she didn't know what this guy had in mind, nor how good he might be at stuff like that. Maybe he had a lot of experience, too. She had no idea what sort of plan he had in mind here. Maybe he'd put her in some place where her dad would have to make himself vulnerable just to rescue her. Maybe he'd have it so that it looked perfectly safe until he got to her, then the man would spring the trap and her dad would be outnumbered or something. She wished he would have already let her start training at stuff like that, so she'd know more about what her options were and what sort of things she could do, as well as what he could do. It was frustrating that she could only guess at the sort of things her dad was capable of, based on stories she'd heard over the years. She wasn't really sure what to do, anymore.


They walked for a while, during which time Eryn did not leave any more intentional marks, yet neither did she make any attempt at hiding her trail (as if she could do anything blindfolded, anyway). But she could tell they were walking on the forest, not on any trail. There were dead leaves under her feet, and she assumed that would probably hide a lot of their tracks. Finally, after what felt like they had been following a winding trail, the man stopped her. She heard something drop to the ground, but couldn't tell what it might be. Then the man grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around several times before he gave her a rough push so that she fell down on the ground. “Don’t move.” He ordered.

Eryn felt too dizzy at the moment to think of trying to get up, and after a moment she heard flint striking steel. She wondered why he was lighting a fire. Was it getting too dark for him to see, already? She tried to guess how much time had passed since he blindfolded her. Perhaps it was as far as he was going today, and he was making camp?

After a moment, however, she sniffed, noticing a familiar smell. Was that wax melting? He'd lit a candle? He carried candles around with him? She found that a little strange, but didn't have a chance to try and learn more before he pulled her upright again. “Alright, move.” He ordered, escorting her onward.

Eryn scowled, mostly for the sake of not letting him just push her around like that. “Make up your mind,” She grumbled. “Don’t move, move.. which is it?”

“Cute.” He retorted. “Now come on.” He pushed her so that she stumbled forward. “And don’t even think about trying to get away again.” He added menacingly. “There’s some real cliffs around here, not just a little rock overhang. And next time, I won't warn you before you go over the edge.” With that, he pulled her along as he strode forward, keeping a secure grip on Eryn's arm as he guided her along beside him.

@Rillewen
The Lieutenant nodded when Duinion said it might be harder to follow Eryn's tracks now. That made sense. If Eryn figured she was bait, and she wanted to warn her father... After a brief look at Kaylin, Arnyn joined Duinion in the search for tracks. "She may have stopped leaving behind intentional tracks to protect you," Arnyn said thoughtfully, "But we are trained to find unintentional tracks as well, Duinion. It will take longer. But we will find them. After all, even if Eryn's bare feet are more difficult to find now - the man's boot prints work against him. Leaves or no leaves." She sounded calm, confident. As she must. Even if she had no way of knowing they would find the trail at all.

For as they searched, it became obvious that the task ahead of them indeed had grown much more difficult. It took a while, but Arnyn finally found a yard or two where she thought she could discern the man's bootprints. She crouched low, eying the leaves ahead of her, judging the space between prints. "Duinion, Kaylin," she called out softly. "Some of these leaves are torn. Others, dented. I think they came through here. I haven't seen any other spots with such signs of passage, at least." She narrowed her eyes, rose and moved forward a few paces, next to the signs she'd found. Arnyn crouched back down, brushing at one of the leaves. "And I think this is the edge of a heel print, in the earth next to this leaf here." She looked up at Duinion. "What do you think?" Because experience or not, two sets of eyes always saw more than one. The tracks were difficult to discern. She could use a second opinion.

@Rillewen
This was the be the morning of their third session, after Arnyn had given Trastion two days off to recover from the first two sessions she had... Put him through? Inflicted upon him? Mentally, she snorted as she remembered one of the rangers asking her whether she'd be putting Trastion through the ringer like that if he hadn't pulled his stunt with Lieutenant Brian. With some satisfaction, she remembered the way the man had started to squirm a little under her silent, assessing gaze. But the truth was she would have demanded the same exercises from him even if he had not made a fool of himself at the barracks a few nights ago. If he was to learn everything she knew - if he was to learn her own specific style of swordfighting - he would have to work hard. He would have to commit. His arrival at headquarters two days ago, while he could hardly lift his arm, at least proved he had the perseverance he would require. The perseverance she would demand. Now the main thing was for Trastion to hold onto it.

She was not one to offer such a mentorship often. Usually, she was more of an advocate of everyone finding their own way, their own style. There was just something about the young man she wanted to guide, though. She got the feeling that he needed her. And she also got the feeling that she needed this. A little smile worked its way to her eyes and lips. Life was funny, sometimes.

The Lieutenant arrived at the dairy farm in a light jog, making for the place she remembered Duinion had his outdoor camp set up, and hoping it was still in the same place. Trastion had told her he had moved from the forest in the training grounds to camping with Duinion at the farm. And he had known to wait for her here this morning. She wondered if he had made good use of the past two days to recover, but she also wondered whether he had heeded her advice and kept his muscles supple enough. When she was within hearing distance, she let out a low whistle to announce her arrival, so they wouldn't startle. It was still dark, after all. Not slowing down until she was only a few yards away from Duinion's camp, Arnyn finally reduced her jog to a long stride. "Morning," she greeted whoever was awake to greet her back. "And may I call it a good one?"

@Arnyn
Nestled in view of Minas Tirith, the port of Harlond was a bustling trade center supplying the center of the Realm of Gondor with all it’s maritime needs. Arriving aboard his familial warship, the Bregolalph, Abrazimir Dimaethor was directed to an available quay, allowing his ship to dock. He had some very important items for Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen, as discussed in their brief exchange of letters earlier this year. What he had was several captured Corsair items, taken as trophies. They consisted of a battle standard of Umbar, some outfits and armaments, and the chief prize of all.

A bronze-crafted battering ram.

Attached to the fore of warships, these rams smote and could render asunder an entire vessel if struck amidship. The ram, detached from the captured pirate ship, was to be displayed as a trophy, though the circumstances in which it had been acquired weren’t exactly the noblest. They had stolen it. And moreover, it was a ram that evoked a measure of darkness. It was crafted in the shape of a hideous beast, displaying its sinister countenance, as it would strike and destroy Gondorian craft. It was said spells of ruin and death to Gondor were woven about it and into it. The superstitious sailors had covered it with a thick blanket, as if it’s very gaze might draw calamity to them.

In truth, it might come as a relief to be rid of it, or to hand it into the care of others. For Abrazimir too, it was a chance to get a little revenge. Such thoughts, he knew, were not always found or achieved through the virtuous arts. But those whom he and the Lieutenant seemed to hold in contempt had crossed him especially. If the delivery of these artifacts might bring that closer to his grasp, he was willing. And so, he arrived in Harlond, to meet Lieutenant Dealedwen, and discuss a strategy. He arrived on the appointed day. He disembarked, alone without guard or escort, to search for her among the docks and within Harlond itself.

@Lantaelen
It was an unusual task, to say the least. To go down to Harlond and scour the harbour for a specific ship and a specific person. The strange nature of the task the Lieutenant had required of him, had led her to offer him an explanation, even though Vorondil figured she owed him none.

"Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor is supposed to be arriving in Harlond one of these days," Arnyn had told him. "We are supposed to meet there. I was expecting a letter of confirmation, but it never arrived." It had been needless to say that the Lieutenant had no time to go out to Harlond on a whim. Let alone for possibly nothing. Vorondil had nodded, awaiting further instructions. "Since it's unlikely he has forgotten, and unthinkable he has intentionally returned on his word, I am sending a different ranger down to the docks daily, to verify whether or not he has arrived." She had not mentioned any concern over the matter, nor had it shown in her body language, but he knew Arnyn well enough to know, regardless.

"And today is my turn, Lieutenant?" he'd finished her instructions for her.

She'd smiled faintly. "Indeed. You know what Abrazimir looks like. You've been on missions with the man, just as I. If you find him, double back at once. We agreed I would come to Harlond. And so I shall, if he has indeed arrived."

Vorondil had snapped a fist-to-heart salute. "Yes, Axinecelume."

The combination of a frown and a smile had met him, then. A brief silence. "Don't start," she'd mumbled.

Vorondil had merely flashed her a grin on his way to the door. "Once a Hyandaner," he had told her on his way out, not finishing the sentence.

So here he was. Sitting atop one of the horses from the ranger stables as they slowly moved through the people walking and bustling around on the docks. Vorondil knew that Abrazimir Dimaethor would have arrived on a warship, so he was keeping an eye out for those. Even though he had no idea of the specific look of the ship in question, a warship was recognizable enough. It might even draw other people's attention.

When he spotted such a ship, he also saw a handful of people slowing down in their passage. Wondering what such a ship was doing here. The colors it flew were not local, and they breathed Belfalas. Vorondil sped up the horse's pace, and noted Abrazimir just as the latter was disembarking his own ship. He wasted no time in his approach.

"Hûl, Abrazimir Dimaethor!" Vorondil greeted him, wearing his usual easy smile on his face as he slid off the horse. "The Lieutenant sent me to see whether you had yet arrived. Apparently she never received a letter detailing when you would. But she's nothing if not thorough," he immediately explained, unabashed. He'd always had a penchant for efficiency, after all. "Greetings!" He held out his arm. "I am to return to headquarters at once now I've found you. Arnyn said something about how the two of you had agreed to meet here, so she seems adamant on doing just that." It seemed more effective to him that Abrazimir would join him to headquarters instead, but Vorondil knew how Arnyn could get about previously made arrangements. Therefore, he surely wasn't about to suggest anything else.

@Arnyn
Duinion quietly nodded in answer to Arnyn's words, having to take a slow breath to keep calm. He hadn't really doubted that he would be able to pick up the trail, but it would have been much quicker and easier if Eryn had continued as she had been. Now, seeing that she had stopped leaving him a deliberate trail, it would take more time to locate it. But that certainly wouldn't stop him.

It was a relief when Arnyn discovered something. Having been searching a couple of yards away, Duinion moved closer to take a look for himself, studying the ground closely. He slowly nodded, feeling a bit of relief to see it. "Yes," He murmured, confirming that he agreed, when she asked what he thought.

The trail wasn't going to be easy to follow, but he had tracked other enemies in similar conditions, sometimes even when the persons being tracked were trying to be stealthy and conceal their tracks. Between he and Arnyn, they began to pick out the trail here and there. After a bit, he began to suspect that Eryn hadn't been trying to conceal her steps, but just hadn't been purposely leaving a trail. He wondered, privately, if she had been a little conflicted about what to do at this point, since he knew that she could have done better than this if she really wanted to conceal her trail. Of course.. if she couldn't see, as Arnyn had suggested, then maybe she hadn't been able to do much anyway. Not that any of it really mattered, he realized. He dismissed the thought and focused entirely on finding the next part of the trail.

After a point, it became more difficult, and it began taking a little longer to spot the pieces of the trail. The rangers split up to widen the search, but kept close enough to call to one another. The more time that passed, the more Duinion had to struggle to fight off the anxious feeling gnawing at his gut. Feeling like the situation called for more urgency, he found it difficult at times to fight off the impatient desire to rush. There was only so much they could do without a proper trail to follow, and running around frantically searching for one would likely do more harm than anything, potentially destroying any trail that might have been found. So, he had to constantly fight a battle inside, to maintain some semblance of patience, while he scanned the ground, circling slowly in search for another trace of prints.

As instructed by Arnyn, Kaylin stayed close to him, which was convenient, for it allowed him to keep the majority of his focus on the ground, while she kept him covered from any possible ambush attacks. None of these came, however. Nor was he finding any tracks. He was beginning to doubt that there were any in this portion of the forest, and expected at any moment to hear Arnyn or one of the others call or signal to let them know they had found something, when.. something caught his eye.

It was not footprints, either booted or bare, but there was a mark on the ground, like a branch or something had once lain there, and had been removed recently. Frowning, he held up a hand to signal Kaylin to wait a moment, and went to inspect this more closely. Not knowing yet whether it meant anything, or if it was unrelated to their search, he decided not to signal the others yet, and examined the ground thoughtfully. It was possible that there could have been someone traveling through these woods, perhaps hunting or camping, who had gathered firewood, but what were the chances anyone else would have been out here as recently as these tracks seemed to indicate? He considered the chances, frowning.

When he was a kid, he had never realized there were any sections of forest out in the Pelennor; they were called the Pelennor Fields, after all, so he had always assumed that was all there was. Until he and Domanol got old enough to wander out here exploring, and the pair had discovered many such places of wonder. He didn't dismiss the possibility that some children or forest-loving folks such as himself could have ventured to this area for a hike or simply to hunt for food, but he felt some instinct telling him to investigate this a little more. Still, he'd hate to call the others away from their own search until he was sure... "I don't know if this was done by our booted quarry, or not," He mentioned to Kaylin. "I want to check it a little and be sure, before we call the others over. It might be nothing," He explained, unsure whether she might think they ought to signal the others that they'd found something. Because, well it did look promising, but he figured if it was a false alarm, they'd have all abandoned their potentially useful searching to go after a wild goose chase, and may miss something they would otherwise have found.

Not far away, there were signs indicating that parts of the branch had lightly dragged the ground, disturbing leaves. It was as if the person had lifted the branch and held it up for several yards, then let it drop and drag as they went along. Interesting. He recalled that the man had an injured arm, and wondered if this could be his doing, due to the arm being painful? But the leaves on the ground didn't allow for any prints to show. He ventured a short distance along this trail just to see what it might turn up, and paused as he looked ahead and spotted a pile of brush and branches against a larger rock section of rock. They seemed to be near the base of the mountain, he realized, which explained why the area was filled with so many large rocks and boulders. As he drew nearer, he could tell that most of the pile of brush and deadwood had been deliberately placed here at the base of this huge rock, as if to camouflage... something. But what?

Suspicious of this, he pulled a couple of them away, cautiously. Whoever had done it was not as experienced as himself, that was obvious, or it would never have caught his eye as it did. As he moved a branch away, he caught his breath when a musty, moldy sort of smell wafted out to greet his nostrils. With a little cough, he steeled himself not to grimace at the 'underground' sort of odor.. one which was among the top three that he despised most in the world, and determinedly dragged a large branch away from the opening. A cave. Someone had covered up the mouth of a cave... he could only think of one reason for that, at the moment. There were probably others, but his mind was very one-track at the moment. He slowly drew in a breath, swallowed down his discomfort, and dropped his eyes to the ground. If someone had taken that much trouble to cover the entrance.. there must be something inside that they wanted to hide. And the only one he could think of who'd have anything to hide in such a remote location.. was the person in boots whom they had been trailing all morning.

Sure enough, he saw what he was looking for. Tracks. Very clear and easy to read in the dry, loose dirt just inside the cave's entrance. The ground inside the cave had been sheltered from the rain, and not even the wind had managed to get to it, thanks to the branches covering it up. And these weren't just any tracks; it was the ones he had been seeking. While his heart leapt with hope at the signs showing him that Eryn and her captor had come here, it also sank at the realization that it meant he would have to go inside the cave to find her. Of course, it would be a cave.

Remembering that Kaylin was waiting a couple of yards away, and probably couldn't see what he had discovered, he turned back toward her. "There's a cave, with some tracks going in," He let her know, after a slightly shaky breath. "Eryn's, and his. Will you signal the others? I'm going to take a better look." Hoping she would not argue (since he didn't know her very well) he then turned back toward the yawning orifice of dread, and pulled a few more branches out of the way, so that more light could enter the cave, thus enabling him to get a better look at the prints in the dust. The story was fairly easy to read, here, he realized, once the light came in and revealed all that could be seen. There was a mixture of tracks in one spot, where it looked as if Eryn had turned around many times; not by choice, he guessed, judging from the man's prints next to her. It looked as if she'd fallen down then. And then they both ventured deeper into the cave. Only the man's tracks seemed to come out. That settled it then. He would have to go in there.

@Arnyn

The morning had not yet dawned, and not even those in the house were stirring quite yet. Since Trastion had told him that Arnyn planned to join him here, today, and run up to the sixth circle together, Duinion was prepared for that. He also knew that they would be likely set off before Aggie had begun breakfast for the family, so when he deemed the timing about right, he put on some water and started some breakfast cooking. When it was about half done, he woke Trastion.

Having two days off had been nice. Trastion's muscles were still sore, but tremendously better than before. Even walking the walls yesterday hadn't been as bad as he'd feared. It had also helped that Ms Aggie had been nice enough to get him a bath ready. She'd put some lavender in it and said that would really help the muscle soreness, and it turned out, she was right. He suspected that the lavender bath was also a devious plot the lady had come up with to get him to bathe after several days without access to the barrack's washrooms, but he appreciated it, nonetheless. He stretched with only a little groan, and glanced up at the sky as he sat up. "Already?" He mumbled sleepily.

"The lieutenant should be arriving soon," Duinion told him. "I suggest you get ready, unless you'd rather her come to find you still dressed for sleep," He smiled in vague amusement. He watched as the trainee nodded and grabbed a clean set of clothes (which Aggie had washed for him, taking pity on the young man) and went off to get changed. While he was gone, Duinion checked on the breakfast. It was about that time when he heard the whistle. He looked up from the pot, and although it was a bit earlier than he would have expected, he could only assume that was Arnyn arriving. He made a whip-or-will sound in reply.

As she came into sight, he lifted a hand in greeting. "Morning, lieutenant." He answered, and smiled slightly in mild amusement at the second part. "It's a bit early to know whether it's good or not, isn't it?" he pointed out. "So far so good, I suppose. No trouble during the night, anyway." He shrugged, and motioned to a section of log positioned across from where he was sitting on another, like a bench. There were a total of four of these, forming a circle around the fire. This was a new change from when she had last been there. "Trastion should be back shortly, he just went to get dressed. Will you join us for breakfast?" He asked, a little unsure whether she'd like what he had fixed, but he'd made enough for at least four to enjoy, on the off chance that she might accept the offer.

@Rillewen
Duinion and Arnyn spread out a little, as if by an unspoken agreement, looking for the continuation of the trail. Yet Arnyn wordlessly signed for Kaylin to stay with Duinion, rather than with her. The man had too much on his mind. Better that he had someone watching his back than she did, right now. It was frustrating not to be able to go ahead and guess the trail. It seemed to be winding a bit, and so they could not guess the path this man and Eryn had taken and look for signs along the way, as was more usual when tracking.

Kaylin stayed about two to three yards behind Duinion, watching the young forest around them more than the ground, since she now found the tracks basically unreadable. Thûllir's instructions or not, this was beyond her skills. When Duinion held out a hand, Kaylin slowed to a halt, hoping dearly he had found something else. She was beginning to fear they wouldn't pick the trail up again, even with Duinion's and Arnyn's skills. Kaylin peered around for Arnyn, found her soon enough, and then looked back to the Tirdinen in front of her. What had he found? He mentioned not being sure whether it was really anything yet, and she nodded quietly, deferring to his judgment. Plus, it didn't seem like much to her, anyway, and she also did not want to call the Lieutenant over for nothing. As Duinion led them to the base of a large rock, Kaylin's eyes were drawn by a pile of greenery and wood. Seemingly... set up - against the rock. She frowned thoughtfully, but before she could say or do anything, Duinion was there, pulling and shoving.

When an opening appeared, Kaylin's lips parted with surprise. Duinion was blocking most of the gap, so she couldn't see much. And since the atmosphere was tense, she managed to shut up while he took a closer look. Finally, he turned to her and told her what was going on. Her eyes widened minutely at this words. Eryn's tracks... and the man's... When he said he was going to take a better look, part of her wanted to stop him, tell him to be careful... but there was something in the man's eyes that silenced that part, and simply made her nod to his request. Desperation, a voice deep inside her said. Kaylin swallowed and let out a specific whistle that sounded a bit like a bird.

Arnyn looked up and her dark eyes found Kaylin, waving her over. The Lieutenant made her way over, and as she got closer, caught some more signals from Kaylin - saying they'd found what they were looking for. Arnyn frowned and let out a series of whistles that would tell Vorondil to make his way over here. With the new trees growing as low as they did, that wouldn't be much of a problem. When the cave opening came into view, with Duinion in front of it, Arnyn slowed down for the final few yards. Her eyes settled on Duinion's back rather than on the opening in the rock.

The Lieutenant wanted to know what Duinion would do now. If they had found the tracks, and they went into the cave - she needed to know whether or not the Ranger would go in. Arnyn had been disappointed back at the cellar. Very much so. She hadto know whether he would not at least go in this time. Because - if not for his daughter, when he feared for her life... then was there really much hope for improvement at all?

@Rillewen
"It is early," she agreed, with a glance at the dark sky above them, but she was glad to hear that it had been good - so far. "Well. Consider it an expressed wish as well, then," she said, sitting down on the log he'd indicated, across from the Tirdinen. Her eyes searched the little camp, seeing evidence of Trastion's presence - but not actually seeing Trastion himself. She supposed he was getting ready. Another glance at the sky told her she was on the early side. She had made good progress down the circles and over the fields from the main gate to the farm. That meant she really was having a good morning. Excellent.

Assuming she would likely have to pull some conversation from the man in front of her, Duinion surprised her by speaking up first. The Lieutenant nodded at the information about Trastion, but the easy reply that would have followed, stilled momentarily when Duinion invited her to join them for breakfast. Her eyes fell to the pot over the fire. She hadn't missed the smell, of course. And it was a darned good smell. Eggs, meat, some vegetables. She had not eaten breakfast yet this morning, not when it was this early - because it was early, even for her.

Besides, she had arrived earlier than she'd expected. If she'd been a bit later, as she'd assumed she would be, and as the two men probably assumed she would be, Trastion would have already had his breakfast. They could have simply left right away. But, this was not the case. She'd arrived earlier. And Trastion would need to eat. Before running all the way up and training with her. It would be mean to deny him breakfast. She was used to a handful of nuts here and there, which she'd stashed away in her gear. But Trastion...

Telling herself she was not a mean mentor, and that Duinion had offered politely, in a friendly manner perhaps even, Arnyn cleared her throat and nodded. "If you have enough," she replied politely. "And if it is truly no intrusion." That addition was a careful one.

@Arnyn

Duinion shook his head a bit in reply to Arnyn's concern. "I wasn't sure if you would have eaten, nor if you would come before Trastion had," He explained. "So I made more than enough for the two of us, in case you did wish to join us. There's also some water boiling.. if you'd like some tea, or coffee?" He wasn't much of a coffee drinker himself but would occasionally have a cup, and he kept some on hand for certain guests who did enjoy it.

Once the lieutenant decided to join them, he pulled out a few tin dishes that, if he was going off on a mission, would be packed in with his gear. "Should be finished cooking soon," He assured her. He went quiet for the next few moments, having nothing more to say, but depending on whether she would ask for tea or coffee, or nothing, he would react accordingly with whatever she chose; either to get tea or coffee ready.

Trastion returned after a moment, dressed for the day, and looking more awake and alert now. "Morning, lieutenant," He greeted her in mild surprise to find her there already. He was sure he hadn't taken that long getting ready. He handed Duinion a bottle of milk that Aggie had left out last night, for his and Duinion's use. Next he went to his pack and put the things he had changed out of, into the pack, then went to claim one of the log seats. "We get to eat before we leave..right?" He asked hopefully.

Duinion hid a grin, unable to resist a little teasing since the opportunity presented itself. "Sorry, you took too long getting awake and dressed," He told the trainee regretfully. "Looks like you'll have to skip breakfast this morning."

"Oh.." Trastion frowned, glancing at him, then Arnyn, and lastly the food cooking which smelled very good, while trying to hide disappointment.

Duinion soon laughed. "I'm only teasing," He assured him before Trastion got too disappointed. "Lieutenant Dealedwen has agreed to join us."

"Oh, good!" Trastion smiled, relieved that it was only a joke. He shook his head slightly in amusement. "You had me worried for a moment, Duinion." He laughed.

(Private)


Frustrated, Eryn had no choice but to follow along with him, trying to navigate alongside him without being able to see. It was difficult. Since she couldn’t see, she tried to pay attention to her other senses. Underfoot, it felt like the ground was loose, dry dirt, on top of what might have been stone. A few pebbles scattered here and there. It felt cooler here, and continued to grow cooler as she went, as if night were closing in around them and abruptly taking away all of the daylight’s warmth. She smelled a musty odor, with a hint of… the same smell from the cellar. Death. She swallowed dryly, fearing what lay ahead. She tried to breathe more shallowly, and listened. There was a sort of echo-y sound all around her, and somewhere far off, she heard dripping.

She frowned to herself. A cave? She’d never been inside a cave before, but she couldn’t think of any other explanation for what she was hearing, smelling, and feeling. Then, recalling her father’s description of his encounter in the mountains, she suddenly had a terrible thought. What if he had brought her to a troll’s cave? She banished that thought from her mind almost immediately, recalling that there was no way they could have left the Pelennor, and there was also no way a troll could have remained hidden in the Pelennor since the battle here.

Their path seemed to wind and turn a few times. After a while, her captor stopped her with a tug on her arm. “Now then. You’re going to wait here until..” He paused, and smirked. “Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin any surprises.” He tried to hide his amusement.

“You realize that my father is going to come looking for me,” She commented, frowning.

“I’m counting on that.” He replied with a little laugh. "But he won't find you here." He added with a smug sound to his voice as he pulled her hood down, and then removed her cloak from her shoulders. He didn’t untie the blindfold, though.

“Don't touch me,” Eryn scowled with a swift twist of her torso to try and get away from him, while she tried to take a step back. He hastily caught her and kept her from doing so.

“Careful,” He grinned in amusement. “I’ve got so many more plans for you… it’d be a shame for you to die prematurely.”

“Let go of me!” Eryn demanded, her heart racing as she felt more and more uneasy.

He smirked. “Isn’t it a shame how Anal-mess hasn’t even noticed how grown up you are?”

“You keep your hands off of me,” She ordered, though she knew she had no way to make him listen. “And don’t call him that!”

“Fine," He said, then shoved her abruptly away from him.

With a yelp, Eryn toppled backward, and found that she was falling down some pit. Instinctively, she curled up the best she could, and before long she hit the ground, rolling a little until she came to rest against a pile of stones, feeling a little bruised. She lay still, winded. Her wrists hurt from the rope binding them behind her back, and she wondered how badly the rope had cut into her. She coughed, trying to clear her throat of the dry dust that had stirred up when she landed. “What’s wrong with you!?” She yelled, frightened, but also angry that he had done that. She could have been killed! He could have at least untied her hands, first, or even removed the blindfold. What a jerk!

All she heard was his laughter as he started to walk away.

“Wait.. what about Hattie?” Eryn called, feeling panicked suddenly that he was going to go kill the dog. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt her!” She listened, holding her breath as listened for some reply.

Mar paused, reminded suddenly of the dog. So, he had promised. Not that he cared about keeping his promises, but he had a better idea than going back on what he’d said. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.” He answered with a little smirk. “As you so helpfully pointed out, I need the stupid mutt to find those papers.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But I don’t know when it’ll wake up.” he muttered. He also had no idea how he was going to force the dog to do what he wanted. It clearly only wanted to bite him. His arm was hurting badly enough already. Perhaps he could search around and see if he could find the papers on his own, and if he still needed the dog, he could come back and get it. If not, well.. the mutt wouldn’t cause him any trouble in the pit with the girl. He picked up the dog and tossed it down into the hole with her. That done, he turned and walked away, leaving the girl to wonder what he was planning to do.

Before long, all had gone silent. The sound of his footsteps faded, and the only other sound was that of her own breathing, thankfully. Eryn continued to lay still for a little while though. She suddenly wondered what might be in this pit with her. Snakes? Orcs? Some sort of terrible monster that was going to eat her?! ‘No.. keep calm, Eryn,’ She told herself firmly, drawing in a deep breath. Slowly, she shifted so that she was sitting up on her knees. Eryn then paused to listen. Hearing nothing, she began to work on sliding her belt around with the buckle at the back, so she could reach the buckle. The belt really served no purpose other than to give Eryn a place to hide her knife that Kaylin had given her. It seemed to take a while, but at last, she had shifted the buckle around enough that she could reach the knife’s handle with one hand. Careful not to drop it, she pulled the knife out, and then it was a little tricky, getting the blade turned at the right angle. But once she got it, she began sawing at the rope.

She winced a couple of times as the blade nicked her skin, but it wasn’t deep, and she kept at it. Soon, the rope fell off and she breathed a sigh of relief as she massaged her wrists. In seconds, she had the blindfold off. And then wondered if she had actually lost her sight entirely. It was pitch dark in here. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again. Yeah… very, very dark. She frowned, and moved her belt back to the front. After replacing the knife, she put her hands out and felt around her, cautiously. She felt rocks and dirt, and nothing else, really. Slowly, she stood, and felt her way around the space. It wasn’t very large, and she could feel stone all around her. The ground felt like a lot of thick, loose dirt with many little pebbles. Carefully, she felt her way all around, and found no openings. How high were the walls? She reached up as high as she could, made another circle around, and found that none were low enough for her to feel the top of them.

After a few minutes, Eryn began to notice that she could see a little bit. She blinked looked around and saw that she was in a pit, with the walls being about twice as high as she was tall. Above, there was a faint, flickering glow of light, slowly getting brighter. Eryn looked up as the man reappeared at the top of the small cliff above her. She saw that he was carrying Hattie under one arm, the one she had cut, rather than the one that Hattie had torn up. She hadn’t been aware that he had brought her along from the burned house, but now she realized that he must have carried her all this way. But Hattie still didn’t seem to be moving, and that worried her.

He set his candle on the flattened top of a stalagmite, then frowned down at Eryn. “How did you get untied?” He demanded when he saw how quickly she’d gotten her hands free.

Eryn looked up and glared at him. “What’d you do to Hattie?”

“You saw what I did to the mutt. Now answer my question.” He demanded, returning the glare, and narrowed his eyes. “You’d be a lot more cooperative if you knew what I can do.” He informed her.

Eryn folded her arms and kept quiet, considering whether she wanted to tell him. She recalled how the knot had slipped a little once, and suspected that, due to his arm being so hurt from Hattie’s jaws, he must not have been able to tie the knots very well, though it had still held up enough to keep her from getting out of it. But he didn’t have to know that…

“Did it occur to you, miss Raedor, that since I know who you are and who your father is.. that I also know where you live?” Though he spoke softly, the menacing tone was unmistakable.

Eryn felt a little shiver go down her back, but she kept quiet for a moment, looking up at him.

“Even a ranger has to sleep sometimes.” He mentioned darkly. “And then there’s your aunt… and those two little children.. your new little cousins, right? It’d be a shame if anything happened to them, wouldn’t it? How quickly do you think Aggie would get over their deaths? Orrr, maybe it would be more amusing if they became orphans a second time…” He sounded as if he were trying to decide.

“Are you serious?” Eryn asked in a slightly stunned whisper, a little shaken by that. “You'd do something to my family, just to make me answer your dumb question?”

“I really have no interest in your family.” He seemed to shrug, but she might have imagined it. “But, if you refuse to answer me, I think it’s only fair you know the consequences.”

“You’re crazy!” Eryn yelled. She wanted to hit him, or kick him, or something. “You didn’t tie the knots well enough, idiot.” She retorted angrily. “You’d better not touch any of my family.”

He laughed softly. “Or what? You’ll come after me, and get revenge?” He looked around at her prison. “The ladder is up here, with me.” He pointed out. “Now. I’m going to go look for those papers, and if I don’t find what I’m looking for, I’ll be back.” He informed her.

“You better not’ve hurt Hattie, either.” Eryn warned, though what could she really do about it? She had no idea, but she was determined.

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s fine.” With a little grin, he flung the dog down into the pit at her.

Hastily, Eryn reached out and tried her best to catch the motionless dog, and they both tumbled down to the ground. She quickly checked Hattie to make sure she was alive, and relaxed slightly. Only unconscious, it seemed.

“There, see? I didn’t kill the dog.” Mar called down with a laugh. “Although you might rather I had killed her, before long.”

“Why would I want that?” Eryn demanded, putting her arms protectively around the unconscious dog, frowning as she pulled Hattie into her lap.

“Oh… I just wonder… which one of you will become hungry enough to eat the other, first?” He let the question hanging in the air for a moment, watching her with amusement.

The question was a bit jarring, leaving Eryn a bit stunned. She stared up at the top of the pit, astonished he would be so horrible as to say such a thing. No.. it wouldn’t come to that. She told herself firmly that it wouldn’t. Her dad would find her first. And Hattie would never attack her, she was sure of that. And she knew that she, herself, would never do anything so sickening as he was suggesting.

“You know, I’ve heard a knock to the head can drastically alter a dog’s personality.” The man pointed out. “Make a friendly dog suddenly turn hostile…” he shrugged and started to walk away, before turning back. “Oh. Yeah, here.” he took off a small waterskin that had been hanging at his side, and tossed that down to her. “You’ll want to make that last as long as you can..” He warned. “There’s no telling how long it may be before I can come back. But when I do…” He smiled darkly. “We're going to go on a trip, and that'll be a lot of fun.” He promised with a smirk, then grabbed his candle and set off again, his laughter echoing down the cave as he departed, leaving them in complete darkness.

Trembling slightly, Eryn took a deep breath and stroked the Hattie's head gently, worried about whether she might be badly hurt. She remembered helping treat Trastion for a concussion, which he’d gotten from getting hit on the head. What if Hattie had a concussion? How would she find out? How would she treat her, down here in this cave? Surely, that was only empty words meant to frighten her, about the altered personality. Eryn hugged Hattie close to her and took a shaky breath, trying to be strong for them both. “It’s alright, Hattie. Daddy’ll come find us.” She whispered into the darkness.