Rangers: Barracks & Stables

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Room 3 - South Wing Barracks
Late evening - Day of the Midsummer Festivities

Feeling as if he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, Trastion's head continued to pound. He had no idea how much time passed before other noises came to his ears, though it was difficult to distinguish what he was hearing. In any case, it sounded like someone was in the room with him now. Was that good or bad? He tried to speak, to ask who it was, but only an unintelligible mumble came out, which he didn't even hear himself. And then, he was roughly grabbed, and forced to sit upright. The change in position did not help his head at all. "Owwwww..my head...ohhh.." The groan was soft, but filled with pain. His vision was still blurred, though it wasn't as dark now as it had been. Some source of light had been placed nearby. "Aeron...whas goin' on?" He mumbled, the throbbing in his head making him forget for a moment where he was, and when.

A voice was speaking, and it took great effort to focus on what it was saying, through the waves of pain radiating around his head. Wake up? That's exactly what he wanted to do, to escape this miserable dream. "M..tryin'...wake'p." Trastion mumbled, confused. Only it seemed easier said than done. Unless he was already awake, and this was real. It was seeming more and more real by the moment. Some distant thought from somewhere deep in his mind pointed out that you didn't actually feel pain in dreams. So yes. This must be real. He felt worried by this revelation. Why did his head hurt so much? The strike to his face didn't help things either. Wincing, he blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but without success. He tried to make his eyes focus on the person who had struck him, fearing what sort of terrible predicament he might have fallen into. But the face before him was not any of those he had feared might have been there. Was that his roommate? Squinting to try and force his eyes to see the face as one whole face, rather than two split ones, he determined that yes, that was him.

"Mourgan.." Trastion was relieved that it was someone that could possibly help him, rather than an enemy who wanted him dead. "M'head's kill'n me," He wanted more than anything to climb under the covers and go back to sleep until this awful pain had gone away. "Whas th'time?" He wondered, as it dimly occurred to him he might be trying to wake Trastion up for breakfast or supper.. supper was the next meal, right? Or was it breakfast? He caught sight of the window beyond his roommate, and even though his vision wasn't as clear as it ought to be, he could tell that it was dark outside. So yes, supper. But that didn't add up. Why was he waking up from sleep if it was night time? He didn't even remember going to bed. A confused expression found its way onto his face as he tried to work out this puzzle.

[Arnyn]

Barracks - Mess hall


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Two weeks and 3 days after Midsummer
~ The day Duinion chose bi-weekly stays in the City (the day after Lt. Brian encountered Eryn and Duinion in Unalmis' room)
~ Just before lunchtime

Her shift at headquarters today had come to an end, but Arnyn's duties were far from over when she entered the mess around midday. Yesterday, someone had asked her whether she was enjoying the summer slump. Arnyn had blinked at the ranger. Then she'd laughed. She'd kept walking without any additional response, leaving the ranger behind with a bit of an anxious expression on his face.

In truth, Lieutenant Brian's report had been very amusing. The man had a gift for painting a scene with words that made his professional outrage jump off the page. Not that Arnyn would never tell him as much. Yet... the report had landed on the desk on her time at headquarters. And Pele had told her that she had learned to respond in some way to all of Brian's reports. If she didn't, it ended up draining more energy later.
Arnyn sighed. While it had been a pleasure to read, it was dreadful to have to think of a reply.

Honestly. Lieutenant Brian also had a gift for turning a musquito into a Mumakil. And she'd have a hard time not telling him that much.

She had written two versions of a reply at headquarters. One had turned out painfully sarcastic and therefore utterly useless. The second had read as professional but the lack of confirmed action on her part had been glaringly obvious. It had become clear Arnyn could not deliver her reply with the written word. If she were going to botch it, best she do so verbally. Without lingering proof of it to be confronted with at a later date, in Pele's presence.

And so she had ended up at the barracks, a bit on the early side for the midday meal. The plan had been to go to Lieutenant Brian first, get the business over with, and then eat. However, now Arnyn was here... she had to admit she was considering postponing her trip to the Barracks Master's office. With a tinge of guilt, she entered the mess.

Only to see Lieutenant Brian filling up a plate.

Okay.

So the Valar punished immediately.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion with @Arnyn
Officer Quarters, Room 3
Evening, a few weeks after Midsummer

Pele was quiet for a few moments, considering Arnyn's words, and sat down on her bed as if the change in posture would aid in thinking.

"I'm afraid it won't be just a day's matter, no," she eventually admitted. "I doubt Relic would just walk into any trap so easily. It would likely take time for her to see that her presence has effect, and well... she is likely to choose her own timing for any attacks either way, so we'd have to be constantly prepared for the unexpected. Somehow."

Even though her words seemed to suggest enough uncertainties, Pele's blue eyes showed determination and decisiveness, when she met Arnyn's gaze. "I am capable to handle her even if she manages to catch me on my own - unless she makes use of some thing or other to her advantage despite me looking weak and in no need of special measures to be overcome. It would be much better to make this happen sooner rather than later. Before she feels she can do damage everywhere without being caught, and before it does get to me eventually, and I end up in a place where I don't even need to pretend being weak."

"Perhaps..." she then added thoughtfully. "Perhaps she'd be more willing to take the bait if she were ignored in all possible ways. I'm sure she'd hate that. Say... no additional tasks for her, no training, no attention. However, I still can't predict the results of that, of course." Pele looked at her Lieutenant questioningly to see her response, though it was clear to her that her friend did not like this sort of approach.

~~~~~
Barracks courtyard/training area
Mid August
@Isolde Alarion and any other interested parties

The ring Relic had 'gifted' her with was always in Pele's pocket as a reminder to never be careless, not even when she thought she was alone, and it reminded her to keep up the pretense of getting worse every day, as she patiently acted out the role she had set for herself. Yet, she was never sure whether it even worked and if it did not rather support her enemy's game plan. She kept going at it nonetheless, waiting. And hoping.

It was still early, before breakfast, at the time she assumed that most others were at the mess hall eagerly waiting for food, when she walked out into the small training area of the barracks yard having ensured that she'd have additional protection by means of the chainmail shirt Cali had fixed for her under a simple grey tunic that fit loosely over it. A blunted training longsword was in her hand as Pele walked across the yard to a lone wooden pole which would serve as her training partner. However, she was armed with more than a training sword, a dagger at her belt, and a smaller knife tucked away in her boot. Ordering her guard to give her a plenty of space, she proceeded to swing the sword in a negligent and distracted manner, which in itself was an effort as she would much rather go at it wholeheartedly and work her frustration out in a proper sweaty training session.

Having swung the sword around for some time, she then stopped as if suddenly out of breath, swayed slightly and went down on one knee, digging the end of the training weapon in the ground and supporting herself on it to avoid going down on the ground face first.

"No! Leave me alone!" she called out to the guard angrily, when he made to rush in and offer his assistance. "I can manage!"

[Arnyn]

Barracks - Mess hall


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
&
Lieutenant Brian
Two weeks and 3 days after Midsummer
~ The day after Lt. Brian encountered Eryn and Duinion in Unalmis' room
~ Just before lunchtime

While Arnyn would never have just turned around and left, it still displeased her to see that the Barracks Master took note of her presence almost instantly. He saw her on his way to one of the tables. He took a seat and eyed her expectantly. They were nearly alone at the mess, on account of it being so early.

Arnyn sighed mentally. She made herself a plate. And even though her gut was screaming at her not to do it, she took a seat opposite the Barracks Master. Two Lieutenants, each on their own side of the table. Arnyn could appreciate the symbolic irony.

"Lieutenant Dealedwen," Brian started, his tone all business.

"Lieutenant Brian," Arnyn responded, her tone deadpan.

"Did you and the Captain receive my report?" He had actually put down his utensils, crossing his forearms over the table, to ask her the question.

Arnyn held back a sigh. They were not friends, but could he not try and be a bit less Brianesque from time to time? "I did, yes. In fact, it was your report that prompted me to come to the barracks in order to talk to you."

He seemed surprised - as if he couldn't believe she had taken him seriously - but only for a moment. "Excellent." His surprise was still audible. "I can count on you to discipline Ranger Raxëlilta, then." He lifted his glass of water.

Arnyn looked up from her plate, her brown eyes resting on Brian's face for a moment. She put a forkfull of omelet in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then waved her fork slightly. "Did your own attempts at discipline improve on his behaviour, Lieutenant?"

A flush crept up Brian's neck and he put down his glass of water with a heavy thud. Part of the drink slushed over the edge, onto the wooden table. "You cannot possibly be thinking of letting this matter be," he said, his voice lowered to a yet very forceful whisper as a few more rangers entered the mess behind Arnyn. "At least he has stopped flinging knives at the walls!" He could not help but defend the way he ran his territory.

Arnyn nodded. "And to that I say: well done, sir. But what is it that you wish for the Captain or myself to do now?"

Brian was almost bristling, even though he took care to keep his voice down. "Get through to him! Call him in and..." he gestured in front of him.

"Figure out a way to do that which you have failed to do yourself?" Arnyn finished his sentence quietly.

The Barracks Master's face reddened as he stared at her.

Arnyn put down her fork and gave him a calm look. She sipped her glass of water without looking away from him. Only once she'd put her glass back down on the table, in a way so that all of the water stayed neatly contained within, did she continue. "As you like to remind the Rangers, Lieutenant Brian, the Barracks are your domain. If you find one of the rangers living here behaving in a manner that is not in line with the barracks code of conduct, it is your duty and privilege to discipline them where necessary and to ensure they do not repeat the offense in question." Her voice was low, and it did not travel.

"You did not have any qualms about intervening during my inspection of room 3," Brian argued, forgetting in his defense that others might overhear. "Ranger Alarion and Ranger Leithor."

Arnyn nodded slowly. "There is a difference between an intervention of my choosing and a demand on your part," she pointed out, speaking a bit louder than before as well, although not as loudly as the barracks master had just done. "Unless you mean to say that, beside the King himself, you are also in a position to make demands of the first and second in command of His Rangers."

This time, Lieutenant Brian's face grew pale. "Lieutenant, no. I-"

"You - need not elaborate further." This time it was Arnyn who put down her utensils to cross her forearms on the table in front of her. Her voice was once again low and quiet. "Your report spoke unambiguously of your demands, Lieutenant. A transgression which I do believe, if one of the Rangers had acted it out on you, you would not let go with merely a stern conversation. You may revel in my generosity to leave it at that. As a sign of good faith, however, I will speak with Ranger Raxëlilta concerning the presence of civilians in the barracks. As long as we are clear on what I no longer wish to see crossing my desk."

It seemed that Lieutenant Brian either did not have the words to reply, or did not trust himself with the words he did have. He said nothing for a while. But Arnyn kept her scrutinizing eyes on him, and he realized she expected him to speak. He could not believe that this woman, this former barracks menace, this blonde young thing, was spelling out a lesson to him. Yet he could not write a report about her to the Captain. That would be in bad taste, never mind the extreme likelihood of it being badly received by Captain Alarion, who had taking an ununderstandable liking to Arnyn a long time ago.
"Yes, Lieutenant."

Arnyn looked at him a moment longer and then rose to her feet. "Good." She picked up her plate and glass of water as she stepped sideways over the bench. "I am glad we had this talk. Good day, Lieutenant." To avoid any awkwardness, she headed for the little mess. A certain windowsill would prove an excellent place to finish her lunch, she thought.

**Whether or not any of the involved Rangers (@Ercassie @Isolde Alarion @Rillewen) hear of this conversation, I leave entirely up to their writers. It might get back to them through one of the Rangers present at the mess at the time, if these Rangers present were curious and straining to listen in. Such word would travel fast indeed! Or it might not get back to them at all, if the Rangers present decided not to risk the ire of either or both of the Lieutenants in question by eavesdropping.**

[Arnyn]

Barracks - South Wing - Room 1
Late afternoon on the day Lieutenant Brian encountered Eryn and Duinion in Unalmis' room
@Ercassie

A runner from headquarters - with specific leave to enter the barracks - swiftly made his way to the South Wing, and to the first room on the first floor. He hoped Unalmis Raxëlilta would be present. Lieutenant Dealedwen had been adamant. She'd insisted he deliver her orders in person. So either he would find Unalmis in his room now, or he would wait until the Ranger's return to hand over the rolled up piece of paper.

He hadn't read it, but he might if Unalmis was not present. To kill a minute of the time he would have to wait. Regardless, it would tell him little to nothing. Once he would hand over the orders, he was free to leave - and so he would.

Upon reading the piece of paper, Unalmis would find the following, writting in a practical yet gracefully fluent hand:

Ranger Unalmis,

I have a need for clarification. Due to circimstances it is inopportune to acquire it at headquarters or the barracks.
Please report outside of the Wayfarer's Inn at the Second Circle tomorrow, by the fourth bell after midday.
I have checked your schedule and this should not interfere with any of your duties.
Former Ranger Lieutenant Macardil will leave the inn when it is time for you to enter.

Until then.

Sincerely,
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

[Arnyn]

Barracks - one of the rooftops


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

She had never made an intentional point about not being seen on her way up here. She did make an exception for Lieutenant Brian of course, but she preferred to be seen as little as possible by the Barracks Master, and that had less to do with where she was going and more with the mismatch between their personalities. Other than him, it wouldn't have mattered who saw her climbing out of the window of the second floor of the North Wing and pulling herself up to the roof. She did prefer not doing in front of anyone - but usually that wasn't a problem. Especially because she mostly went up there to watch the sunrise, and the second floor of the North Wing was sparsely used. It was going back inside that was more likely to have a spectator, but she'd never noticed anyone. No, that was not true. There had been a staff member once. A few weeks ago. She had first startled, then laughed, as the Lieutenant fluidly dropped in through the window, right next to the small cart with her cleaning supplies.

She'd come here on and off since joining the King's Rangers. The view the roof offered was infinitely better than the old ERC roof view down in the First Circle. It was difficult to resist. Because... well, one of the things the roof provided was solitude. Besides, there was a nice feeling about the start of a new day. Sunrise had always felt better to Arnyn than sunset. And the view over the city, the Pelennor and the Anduin spoke to her heart.

In summer, the temperature was lovely even this early. She still had a lightweight cloak with her in case of any wind, for the Sixth Circle rooftop could draw quite a bit of it. But there was hardly any wind this day. Only the slightest breeze, lifting the shorter strands of hair that framed her face. Arnyn had greatly enjoyed the sunrise this day. In fact, she had lingered longer than she usually did, despite the ranger who was practicing on one of the poles in the courtyard below. The Lieutenant was even considering skipping breakfast at the mess altogether. She was sitting, or perhaps one would even call it lying down, her legs stretched out in front of her, leaning back onto her elbows with her face lifted toward the sky as she soaked in the sun, eyes closed.

Maybe tomorrow she should bring a drink and a snack.

Shouting from below distracted her from her solitary bliss. Arnyn frowned, her eyes still closed. Why would anyone be shouting so angrily on such a lovely morning? To boot, it was definitely not the Barracks Master's voice, whom Arnyn deemed perfectly capable of shouting the loveliness of the morning away. Her dark brown eyes opened swiftly when she realized it was Pele. Where had it come from?

The Lieutenant moved into a crouch. Keeping low to the roof, she walked over to the edge and peered into the courtyard and training area. Yes, it was the Captain. She appeared to be alone with her guard. Kneeling down in front of one of the training poles, rather winded. Arnyn sighed, troubled as she crouched near the edge of the rooftop. Part of her friend's idea to draw out Relic, probably. Or perhaps Pele really had spent too long hitting the pole. But it was unlikely she would make such a show of herself if it wasn't for Relic's benefit.

Withdrawing back to her previous position, she wondered whether her mind would manage to find that place of peace again, which she had been enjoying so much just moments before.

[Ercassie]

Ranger Unalmis Raxëlilta
Returning to Room 1, South Wing.
Barracks Building. Before “The Sleepover”
@Rillewen @Arnyn

Duinion had asked where Unalmis had gotten all of the water. The answer of course was the kitchens. The less obvious query was where had he obtained all of the bottles. The young man had frequented quite a number of pubs in the city, from an early age, .. not drinking, it ought to be pointed out, but rather waiting for his father to be done with that. And being on such terms with publicans, and having many empty bottles laid around the house, Unalmis had found fun and great support from Trevadir when they were young, in playing with the bottles. The discovery that filling them with various amounts of water, and blowing over the rim softly, like for a flute, .. music could be created. And was. Although that was not what their grandmothers had described it as, back then.

Thankfully Sergeant Pete was a far more agreeable man than Lieutenant Brian and so the Kitchen manager had not further deflated the young Ranger’s mood during his visit. Every single bottle from Room 1 had been delivered to the kitchens, as ordered. Quite what the kitchen master would do with them all was anybody’s guess, but a brief account of how musical the collection could prove served enough to satisfy the Sergeant’s curiosity.


Nal returned to his room later that afternoon, come to fetch some herbal tea for Duinion, who had declined a second climb up the staircase on crutches just to fetch it. The Tirdinen was awaiting down in the Mess hall, hopefully, for some well deserved refreshment to be brewed. But his irrepressible host first had to learn the repercussions of leaving one’s door always open.

A stranger was stood in Room 1, when Unalmis arrived there. Thankfully not a second visit from the Barracks Master. Instead, an equally unexpected but far more welcome .. well, .. messenger. Who looked to be upon the cusp of reading the message himself out of boredom since who knew how long he had been stood there ? Recognising the young Man as the inhabitant and intended recipient, the errand was completed. And Unalmis was distracted from all thought of seeking out herbs, in favour of wondering why he was being sought himself.


His immediate reaction upon noting the author of this summons was that Lieutenant Brian had called his bluff and indeed, written him up to the Command, for misdemeanours quite blown out of all proportion. But having skimmed the words and made no sense of them, Unalmis sat down on his bed and tried a second time to interpret the message.

A 'clarification' ? That could mean absolutely anything. Perhaps an admission of guilt ? A chance to defend himself against the Barracks Masters allegations. But why then not on Ranger grounds ? The Second Circle was a distance to go, unless .. was this something that Lieutenant Brian ought not to discover ? That made a lot more sense, in explaining the location. But much less as to the cause of anything occurring. The Inn .. did she somehow know where he had been obtaining his bottles ? Unalmis frowned over the few sentences. This was the sort of thing he had come to expect from Isys. It was far too enigmatic for him to have expected it of Arnyn. Despite him not knowing the Second in Command scarcely at all.


Her rank made his confusion a moot point, regardless. He could not refuse an order from the Captain’s Second In Command. The reference to the Former Ranger Lieutenant though, only ascertained that the entire thing made even less sense. Which at least matched almost any fact he held in mind about Macardil. None of any thing about the man had made sense. Then. Now. It was all extremely strange.

One piece of the content he could find no fault in though. The following day he had stable training in the morning, with the Ehtyar. He would be finished easily before mid day, and long before he was expected to report. Four hours was more than enough time to clean up, change, have something to eat and then select a suitable site out in the Second Circle, to observe the Lieutenant and maybe her predecessor, before they ever arrived at their destination. There was no law to say that he could not arrive early after all. His superior could hardly fault him for practicing a little scouting mission.


At the very least, a visit to the Wayfarer meant he could bring back some new bottles. The Barracks Master had, after all, only outlawed the ones he had already found in the room thus far. There were always ways and means. Might even be that he could now further occupy Duinion's troubled mind by distracting the Tirdinen with asking advice on reconnaissance this afternoon ...

[Arnyn]

Barracks - Room 3


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
evening - a few weeks after Midsummer (mid-July)
@Pele Alarion

"If she doesn't make use of some thing or other to her advantage, Pele, I don't think she will make a move at all," Arnyn spoke honestly. "Whether she believes your weak facade or not, I don't think she will simply come up to you without an ace up her sleeve. And if she is a sorceress..." The Lieutenant shrugged. "It has never been one of my strengths to deal with sorcery or anticipate on it. I have had very little experience going up against it. It has never been aimed at me directly. You are the one who has seen what she is capable of. You tell me what she might do to get to you?"

Pele's thoughts about ignoring her, made Arnyn frown in thought. "So you mean, you want Kaylin and myself to continue not to make contact with Amber, since we suspect she is Relic in disguise?" It was still difficult to think the girl was probably in reality a red-haired crystal-eyed woman. Arnyn had never seen any such distortion of reality before. But Pele has had her suspicions from the start. And after the things they had learned in the meantime... "No training?" The Lieutenant was not sure whether she was relieved or concerned at this.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Common room,
Late afternoon, early evening (late July/early August, about a month after Midsummer)
Open RP (@Arnyn , @Rillewen )

A mischievous spark twinkled in Pele's eyes at the mention of food fights; while she usually did not like the idea of wasting good food resources, she was known for getting carried away with it in certain circumstances. She cleared her throat and blinked before feigning a shrug of indifference.

"Well, suppose food fights are not exactly the desirable result of storytelling. You are right, Arnyn, better not present an option of sharing the sort of fun stories with food at hand," she stated without coming to any certain conclusion about when and where such activities should be held. A grin had settled on her face though, as she sat and thought of a few stories she would be able to share; certainly there was more to life than just endless difficulties though sometimes it did look like a continuous struggle uphill with no rest point in sight.

"And in the case there are no stories to tell, there's always books to resort to; however... real stories from real people, in a relaxed setting might outmatch any story written down in books. Or not," she chuckled giving Duinion a sideways glance, and then checked the status of her hair finding that the additional warmth of the fire was assisting in drying it off quickly.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks, Officer Quarters, Room 3
Evening, a few weeks after Midsummer
@Arnyn

"You are right, Arnyn," Pele admitted with a sigh. "She might be prompted to a direct attack only if she is tired of waiting or gets extremely annoyed if she doesn't manage to make things go her way. And even then it might be difficult to predict what she would do, but something must be done, soon. I really want to find a way to get her to come after me in hopes she'd leave everyone else alone." No matter how simple it sounded, the Captain was not sure any specific plans of baiting Relic would be sure to work as intended.

Pele took the time to think, and then added: "I know she is capable of sorcery, yet she has not really used that power against me in full; mostly guilt tripping and physical torment. Yet, I think I've spent enough time with her to be able to sense her presence even when she poses as someone else. It is hard to explain... Mere instinct, perhaps. So even if she approaches as someone else, I might be able to detect her and she would not take me by surprise. I would not exclude blackmail, or any sort of emotional and mental pressure, against me, or against others while she runs around here. What I fear the most is that she would start killing people."

"So..." her voice was hesitant and uncertain, as she looked at Arnyn seemingly in search of ideas or questions to help with processing the matter. "Yes, hold back the training for now. While I would relish the view of her doing a muddy obstacle course, I would not want her to turn against you in anger. Besides..." Pele left the thought unfinished, and set along a different path. "Perhaps Kaylin would have something to add in this matter. Or her and Thullir both. I am not good at setting stealthy traps and playing roles, and they might have suggestions."

[Arnyn]

Barracks - Room 3


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
evening - a few weeks after Midsummer (mid-July)
@Pele Alarion

"She might get angry if we do not train her as well," Arnyn responded quietly. "It is a gamble one way or the other," Arnyn acknowledged. "I would gamble differently, I think. But since neither of us knows what will happen either way..." She made a vague gesture to show she would go along with Pele's wishes.

Pele's unfinished thought would have been deemed irksome by Arnyn if she had recognized it as such, but the Lieutenant assumed her friend had only decided to change her turn of phrase before continuing. Given the direction Pele's thoughts were heading into, Arnyn nodded slowly. This, at least, no amount of logic or even happenstance could argue with. "Yes, they might. I assume this means it would be best to fill in some more of the details for Thûllir sooner rather than later." It was a request for confirmation of what they had agreed on moments before, as well as for permission. "I was to meet with Kaylin tomorrow. If he is at home..." It would be efficient. "And then I can put the matter to them, as well." Arnyn did not like to sit around and wait. At least this was a way for her to make some progress, in some way.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks, Officer Quarters, Room 3
Evening, a few weeks after Midsummer
@Arnyn

"She might indeed," Pele could not deny the fact. She felt that no matter what they did, the Umbarian would still manage to turn the game for her own benefit and act in unpredictable ways. But in her mind it was worth trying out some ways to get her to show herself.

Pele sighed in resignation and looked at Arnyn with a small smile as she confirmed her surrender of holding everything at a highly secretive level. "I figure it would surely do no harm, or even be of benefit if Thûllir knew of these things. In more detail, too." She saw no need to object to the fact that it would be done so soon, so she added: "If you find them both at home tomorrow, that seems very good. See if they have anything to say."

"I must admit," she then said more quietly. "While I might know Relic and guess some at her actions and what would work against her, I might as well be so focused on one thing due to my experiences that I fail to see the overall picture and might miss some other things. You are definitely right... More openness might work for the best."

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Barracks Courtyard/Training Area

A shout drew her attention. She was naturally drawn to screams of pain and anguish but this one was different yet familiar. She’d heard it before, in Umbar. Thick dirt walls, chains and the same shouting voice came to mind. It was the Alarion.
Her interest raised she made her way closer to the source yet kept to the shadows. She stopped when the woman came into view. A guard, her constant guard, was offering assistance but she refused him.

Amber eyes narrowed in observance of the scene before her. The Alarion, seemingly struggling? She found it intriguing. She knew the woman to be resilient and resourceful. Had the ring she’d left had an ill effect on her? The thought sent a satisfied upturn to the corners of her lips. Good. Seeing her in such a state, vulnerable, made her think to attack her while she kneel there. Her guard out of arms reach, he would be useless to defend her if she struck fast.

She could feel her muscles tense in anticipation of the kill, much like a cat focusing in on attacking a mouse. She could do it. Have her satisfaction then be out of here, away from this place.

Her eyes narrowed as she slowly wrapped her fingers around the dagger at her waist. She could picture the attack, feel the blade sink deep into her and feel the sticky warmth of her blood. Her eyes moved along the imaginary track she would take to reach her. From the wall she stood by to the pillar along the roofs shadows…

The shadows. Something stilled her focus as it caught her attention. It wasn’t the straight shadowed line of the roof, something was there. Someone was there! On the roof! Her amber gaze flicked upwards to what was causing the disturbance of the mornings light. Crouching on the edge was the Lieutenant.

Amber moved deeper into the walls shadow. A trap?! She watched the Lieutenant leave then her gaze went back to the Alarion. Was it a ruse?! Playing games with her was she?! Did she think she could pull her so easily into a trap? Now more angry with herself, her stay here had caused her to relax. No, she wouldn’t be so easily distracted from now on.
She’d come all this way for a reason and it was time to see to it. Two could play at this game. She stilled her anger. Took a deep breath to calm herself and closed her eyes. The fire in her chest slowed to a steady heart beat and when she opened her eyes again they appeared wide and doe like.

Out of the shadow she stepped, her features molded into concern and care. “Captain?” She moved closer to approach her. “Are you alright?” Her voice tinged with innocence. “Did you hurt yourself? I thought I heard you yell.” She momentarily slowed in her approach with a glance to the guard, asking silent permission to continue to help the Captain if she needed it. Surely the Captain wouldn’t refuse the aid of one of her own.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks courtyard/training area
Mid August
@Isolde Alarion , @Arnyn

Pele spent a few moments on the ground, seemingly recovering, and was about to rise eventually and go for some breakfast, when she heard the approaching footsteps and a kind voice addressing her. Even when nothing spoke of immediate danger, she could still feel the familiar sensation take a hold of her, sending a shiver down her spine. Amber. Her head still down, she took a deep breath and decided to keep up the pretense.

"Away from me, I said!" she growled again at the guard who still looked as if he was wanting to give her a hand, and then struggled back to her feet, turning to face Amber. Her blue eyes looked the young woman up and down with earnest ice cold and added annoyance at being caught in a weak moment.

"I hurt myself? What even is that?" she continued in the same raised voice she had used against the guard. Normally, she would never raise her voice at any of her Rangers unless it was a life and death situation and she needed them to hear her, and aiming unjust anger at any of them was out of question. Usually. However, she had decided to stick to her game, and seemingly lose her usual cool. "And don't you stare at me that way!" she huffed in indignation and pointed the practice sword at Amber, as she continued her tirade. "Have you not yet trained to the point of utter exhaustion, Recruit? Answer me! If not, I'll make sure you get a taste! I won't have any of the Rangers slacking off, not even when they have just recently joined and can't tell their sword from their spoon!"

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Barracks room 3 w/ Recruit Trastion

“Mmm ya, I bet your head is killing you with all you drank.” He half answered his groggy roomie. “What’s the time? Why? You have a date?” He half teased him out of irritation but then pity took over, why? He didn’t know. “I dunno, late.” He answered him as he tried to straighten his shirt. The stain reminded him of his lost drink.

“You shouldn’t be drinking if you can’t handle it. Maybe start with something a little less stout? That stuff will put hair on your chest.” He motioned towards his empty flask as he moved to sit on Trastions bunk since his was occupied.

He could see his roomie was having a hard time with being awake, he sighed. “Tell you what, go back to sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning.” For a moment it looked as if Trastion was going to try to get up off his bed, Mourgan laid his large hand over his chest to stop him. He gently pushed him to lay down. “Stay there, I’ll take your bunk for the night.” Not that he would have slept in the mess Trastion had made. He scratched at his head. Man he was a sloppy drunk he thought to himself. He did however trade him pillows.Luckily the alcohol hadn’t spilled too much on it, he simply turned it over.

“Go to sleep.” He ordered him as he kicked off his boots then reclined on the bed. “We’ll clean it up in the morning.” He was tired and just wanted to put an end to the day. He lay his arm over his eyes and just tried to think of something pleasant to distract from the smell of the room. The first and last thing to enter into his mind was a certain Smithy.

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Barracks courtyard/training area
Mid August
@Pele Alarion

Amber paused in her approach as she watched the Alarion rise after once again yelling at her guard. The cold blue appraisal she received caused a tense momentary grinding of her teeth as the Alarion then continued to dress her down ending with the wooden sword being pointed at her while she threatened to train her to the point of exhaustion then claiming she didn’t know her sword from a spoon.

Silence hung between them for a moment. Amber could feel the shadows filling up with curious onlookers just as the yelling had drawn her forward. What had caused their Captain to yell at a recruit so?

The way she seen it she had two choices.

1. Give into the rage and indignation she felt at the moment, it rest like a caged beast behind this thin mirage. How dare an escaped slave address her in such away!! SHE was the one robbed of her property. Betrayed by her own house slave! In Umbar she would have had her her head on a pike before she could have time to regret her words! KILL HER!! She seemed to wince, one would think it was from the Captains cruel words but it was from the voice screaming in her ears, echoing against her skull. KILL HER!!

2. Feed the beast.

Her amber eyes met the icy blue of the Alarions. “I have not Captain.” She wanted to scream it back at her but she kept her voice calm for those listening. “I was only concerned but..I can see you’re fine. I’ll leave you be.” She ducked her chin to dismiss herself and turned on her heel.

The beast was more than fed, it was engorged. Turning her back to the Captain her features slipped into the rage she felt within. Now this felt more familiar, more herself. Her mirage was being held together by a thin thread of reason and the knowledge that others were looking.

They may have seen a young woman upset from the tongue lashing received from their Captain but within, her mind was lashing out, throwing itself against the the bars of its enclosure. Snarling behind gnashing teeth. She slipped the lock and swung wide the door, welcoming its release with a sinister smile.

Into the shadows she stepped and with a look over her shoulder at the Captain there was, for the flicker of a heartbeat, a glint of swirling crystal before she turned away and melted into the small crowd.

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Room 3 - South Wing Barracks
Same night as the Midsummer Festivities, through to the next morning

His head felt heavy, in addition to the increased pounding. His head clearly didn't like the sitting up position. But Trastion was a bit more concerned by the fact that he heard a steady ringing noise that drowned out much of what Mourgan said. He found it hard to focus. The words he could make out didn't quite make sense at first. How much he drank? A date? Shouldn't be drinking.. and something about his chest. Now that that was mentioned, Trastion became more aware of a slight burning sensation on the skin of his chest and shoulders, but the throbbing head overshadowed that by far, so he ignored it for now. He wanted to hold his head in his hands, as if that might cease the pounding, splitting sensation and make it easier to concentrate, but couldn't really do that right now.

His eyes closed for a moment, trying to fight the overpowering desire to sleep, and instead process what Mourgan had said. Drinking. Slowly, the dim realization formed in his mind, gradually connecting the smell he'd noticed upon waking with a source. Alcohol. Trastion forced his eyes open again with some effort. He'd smelled that before.. when? When he was cleaning up the ink? That seemed about right. "No.." He mumbled faintly, halfway beginning to realize what Mourgan must think. "m'nodrunk," He tried to explain, unsure if Mourgan could even hear him. It sounded like he spoke too softly, but then it was hard to hear anything over that annoying ringing sound that wouldn't go away. He couldn't be drunk.. he wouldn't have been drinking... and yet, there was alcohol somewhere near. He could smell it strongly, especially now that he'd identified what it was. That revelation sparked a flicker of panic inside him, yet for the moment, he was having difficulty in making the connections to why this was a very bad thing.

Some little voice in the back of his throbbing head told him that he should do something about this. But what? He felt that there was some sort of danger, but couldn't put his finger on it. Still, a sense of urgency grew in him, and Trastion made a feeble effort to get to his feet, though he had no idea what he meant to do once he managed this. Get help? He wasn't sure, but before he could succeed, Mourgan was pushing him back down. Trastion reached out trying to catch Mourgan's arm in an attempt to stop him, meaning to ask him for help, to beg his roommate to believe him. But apparently he grabbed for the wrong arm out of the two he was seeing (due to the blurred double vision) and couldn't seem to make the words happen. Then he was falling backward. Falling.. Like in a distant memory, as if in slow motion, he could feel himself falling, knowing that he was going to hit his head on the hard stone floor. Again. But instead of the horrible, jarring impact, he fell back onto pillows. Still, the sensation of falling stayed with him, and he closed his eyes tight, trying to wait for the feeling to pass, and soon sleep overcame him, despite his intention to stay awake.

Over an hour later, Trastion opened his eyes again with a great effort, with no idea how long he had laid there with his eyes closed. It felt like only a few minutes, but the lamp that Mourgan had brought into the room with him was extinguished by now, leaving the room in darkness, and he had the impression someone..probably Mourgan.. was somewhere not far off, asleep. Trastion felt like going back to that blissful land of sleep, too. Sleepiness clung to his mind, but he strove to fight it off, feeling a nagging sense that he shouldn't. His head was still pounding. He groaned softly, but immediately decided against any noise since it only made things worse. He had been trying to think of something, just a minute ago, hadn't he? Trastion lay very still, staring into the darkness, trying to think of what it was. Help. He'd been wanting to get help, because... why? His thoughts felt like they were floating, dreamlike, just out of grasp. It took a while before he remembered his fear from before. Right. Someone trying to kill him, maybe? He struggled to shift positions, but that made his head hurt more, and he gave up, wincing. Something was definitely not as it should be. The smell of alcohol invaded his nose again. It was as if he couldn't get rid of it. He felt as if he'd been poisoned. And then the frightening thought returned.. had they found him? Had his stepfather done this, meaning for him to die? It wouldn't look like a murder.. that seemed like just how he wanted it. Trastion would need help, but how? Was Mourgan still here?

"Ughhh.. help...please.." Trastion tried to call, but couldn't seem to make himself speak up beyond a low mumble. If Mourgan was asleep, as he probably was, there was no way that quiet mumble would wake him. Trastion felt the panic starting to rise a little. What if he died before anyone realized he was in danger? Another thought nagged at him. Something that he should remember. Something that seemed important. Arnyn.. something to do with her, or something she had given him... something that might help? Something to do with...poison, yes! As soon as the thought came to him, he began to feel a faint glimmer of hope. He moved his hand, feeling for the edge of his pocket where he had stuffed the little bag she'd told him to carry at all times. Surely, this was just the sort of occasion she had meant. It seemed to take forever for him to actually locate the little bag of beans, and then it took even more effort to get it out of his pocket. He took an unplanned break, resting for 'just a moment'.

Trastion's awareness of the passing time was almost non-existent in his present condition. A few hours later, he became aware of his hand resting on his chest, clutching the small leather pouch. What..? Groggy and confused, he took a few moments to remember what he had been doing. Then, half-panicked, his fingers feeling clumsy and awkward, he began fumbling with the drawstring, but couldn't get the ties undone. He continued trying for a few minutes, feeling more and more anxious with each passing moment. After a bit, he tried to raise his head to look at it. Perhaps if he could see what he was doing, it would help. But alas, he couldn't see; it was too dark and also his vision was too blurred. It did, however, make his head swim so hard he felt like he might just float away from him, and the pounding grew a little stronger. Wincing, he dropped his head back against the pillow, hand closed tight around the pouch as he tried to wait out the pain. Before long, he had slipped off to sleep once more, and by the time he was aware of anything again, the faint glow of dawn was creeping into the room.

The light was very unwelcome. Trastion, half asleep, groaned softly as it invaded his rest. He turned his head away, but it was like he could still see the light through his eyelids, growing gradually brighter, making his head throb worse than before. With some effort, he rolled onto his side, away from it, and tried to cover his head with whatever was available, a blanket or pillow. He was vaguely aware that he had something still in his hand, but too drowsy to bother trying to remember what it might be, for now.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks courtyard/training area
Mid August

Pele used the silence to study Amber carefully, her muscles tensing up in readiness to fight, yet she did her best to make it look that it was all due to pent-up anger. However, the attack never came. She knew her opponent was far from the epitome of patience, yet now she only saw surprising self-control. Somewhat surprised, she considered the fact. Well, the setting was definitely far from perfect, in full view of people, but then again she had not really expected Amber to come right up to her either.

She watched the Recruit leave, and for a moment thought of calling her back, but the shortest glint of true colours as Amber glanced back at her, stopped her from it. She took it as a clear sign of warning. The provocation had worked, and yet not exactly the way she had wanted it to work. No direct attack was forthcoming, and it could only mean one thing - Relic would take it out elsewhere.

"Drat..." Pele muttered under her breath, and then turned quickly to her guard handing him the practice weapon. "Here, take this, and give me my sword. Quick," she said, her voice urgent, but no longer angry and loud. As fast as she could, she fastened the sword belt, and strode after Amber, though she supposed the woman would be long gone within the halls of the barracks before she could catch up. She should at least find Arnyn or someone else in the know to warn of the possible 'storm' coming. It was not easy to form battle plans with an elusive enemy, yet she thought of a few options of what could be done to cut the losses.

[Arnyn]

Barracks - one of the rooftops


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

More yelling from Pele. Arnyn frowned, eyes still closed as her face was fully turned into the sun. This was really interrupting her alone time out in the sun. At the word word 'Recruit', her eyes popped open and she shifted back into a crouch as cold fingers seemed to close around her heart.

Only two recruits were around at the moment. And Arnyn couldn't imagine Pele yelling at Trastion like that; while he definitely had things to work on, he could certainly tell his sword from his spoon. Which left Amber. Or was she being paranoid?

Another look down at the courtyard proved that Arnyn was no such thing. The Lieutenant wanted to lower herself down onto the roof to her left, which was one story lower, from where she could easily drop into the courtyard without breaking any bones. Arnyn approached the lower roof, keeping an eye on the scene below. Yet Amber's voice was calm. And then she turned to leave. And actually left.

Arnyn immediately remembered Pele sharing with her that she feared Relic might lash out against people if they angered her. It was one of the reasons why the Captain didn't want Kaylin or Arnyn to train Amber. Surely this kind of yelling risked angering her greatly.
When the Lieutenant saw Pele's fast movements and heard the urgency in her tone of voice, Arnyn quickly moved to the other side of the roof and climbed down the far wall on the outside of the barracks. Once her boots reached the pavement, she sought out the right shadows to hide in until someone possibly emerged from the building.

Someone on her way to Manwë knew where. To do Tulkas knew what. And if Pele couldn't follow... Arnyn would try.

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Barracks Area
Mid August
@Pele Alarion @Arnyn

She made her way through the small crowd, ignoring those that might have watched her. She had places to go and no time to care about them, they would find themselves busy soon enough.

She pushed her way through the crowd and through the door leading into the entrance hall. From there her pace didn’t slow as she walked through the hall to the set of stairways that led to the barracks, North and South Wings.

She paused momentarily and looked over her shoulder to gage the whereabouts of the Alarion. She knew she would be coming for her. Let her come! Quickly she turned back and made her way up the large set of stair that came to end at the Barracks Masters room. If he was there she paid him no mind as turned to head into the woman’s barracks, the North Wing.

Upon entering she was met with mostly quiet, a few noises from those getting ready. She made her way to her room and shut the door behind her. Once inside she grabbed for the item above the door in the small niche. Her fingers curled around it and she brought it down. The flask. She stuffed it into her pocket, she would be needing the potent liquid before this day were over.

With it secure she reached over and grabbed the small oil lamp that was used to light the room normally. She went back to the closed door and cracked it open, listening for the sound of hurried bootsteps but she heard nothing more then the quiet morning sounds she’d heard earlier. She slipped out the door and stood in the hallway that led to the rooms.

Her amber eyes caught the flicker of a wall lamp that was used to light the small hall during the night. It hadn’t been extinguished yet, lucky her. She reached up to her right and took it from the hook that had it secured. “Who needs a spoon?” A cold whisper slipped across her lips before they turned upwards into a crooked smile.

She took her small room oil lamp and with a bit of force she tossed it down the hall, it’s ceramic form busted as it skidded across the smooth floor, pouring it contents out as it went. Finally it came to a stop over half the length of the hall.

Her smile turned into a full blown grin as she took the flaming wall lamp and tossed it to land where the lamp had broke. With a whoosh the line of oil instantly caught on fire causing a long, black billow of smoke and flames to quickly encompass the hall! There was no scream of fire to warn those still in their rooms, their bunks. Just the flickering reflection of the scene in a pair of amber eyes.

With an icy calmness she turned on her heel, she wasn’t done yet.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks
Mid August

She wasted no time and walked towards the barracks in a determined step, her guard keeping up with her. A couple focused questions to the Rangers still lingering around provided her with what she needed to know of the direction the 'Recruit' had headed off to.

Pele ran up the steps two at a time and came to the main landing of the stairs just in time to see Amber emerging from the women's wing - followed by some black smoke. "Hey you!" she called out to see if the woman would stop, and then looked into the hallway to find it wrapped in flames as far as eye could see. Indecisive only for a split second, Pele then turned to her guard. "Go back down, raise the alarm! See if you can find the Barracks Master or Lieutenant Dealedwen - tell them there's a fire in the North Wing. Make sure someone takes charge and organises fire extinguishing, if not - do this task yourself. Get people to help," she raised her hand to stop his objections. "There's no time to argue. Get back to me when you are sure someone is in charge. Go!!!"

The Captain pushed her guard to make him move, and then took a couple steps into the hall. "Fire! Fire!" she shouted as loudly as she could to alert any who were still in their rooms. "Out if you can! If doors hot - stay inside!"

Having alerted any possible residents of the burning floor, she retraced her steps and ran in the direction she had seen Amber go to catch up with her.

[Rillewen]

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

It seemed like any ordinary day when he woke up. Trastion was expecting to follow his usual routine. Training and all that. Maybe a trek through the woods out in the training grounds. He enjoyed those, but he needed to check if he had any particular duties for the day. He was thinking of what else he might do today, as he got dressed and went to splash some water on his face, to help him wake up a bit more. As hot as it was, he didn't mind being sloppy with this task, as the damp shirt would help to cool him off a bit, until it dried. His hair was pleasantly damp as well from the same splashing as he returned to the dorm.

There, he took a moment to fix up the bed. He'd had a lot of practice at that by now, and although the daily room inspections had ended by now, he'd heard that the lieutenant did occasionally conduct surprise inspections, as if hoping to catch the rangers off guard. Furthermore, Trastion had even heard a rumor that the man was even more inclined to doing this to these he disliked the most. Trastion had plenty of reason to suspect that he might have made it on the top of that list, starting with day one and just about every time he'd encountered the lieutenant since then. Therefore, he tried his best to give the lieutenant nothing to find wrong with the state of his and Mourgan's room.

Once satisfied, Trastion left the dorm to head down to breakfast. He slowed a bit as he came toward the stairs, frowning as he sniffed the air. Was something burning? Did Sergeant Pete get distracted and leave the bacon unattended or something? He started down, frowning more and more. That didn't smell like bacon burning. He paused halfway down the stairs, coughing a little as a few puffs of smoke assailed his nose, making his eyes begin to sting a little. That wasn't coming from the kitchen, but rather from somewhere up the stairs going to the lady's side of the barracks. His eyes widened at this realization, which immediately began to water from the smoke stinging them. A bit of smoke had crept down those stairs, and was making its way up the others, toward the men's side. That seemed like a lot of smoke! The barracks building was stone, but there were some wooden parts that could burn, such as the roof, and doors..windows.. beds... Did people here know how to deal with fires, given how much of the city was built out of stone? He wasn't sure but he couldn't help worrying they might not be prepared to deal with a serious fire.

Worried, he pulled the front of his (thankfully damp) shirt up over his nose and mouth, then rushed down the rest of the stairs, only to crash into someone just as he was starting toward the other staircase, with the thought in mind that he might be able to assist with the fire. "Sorry--" He exclaimed automatically, then froze for a second, realizing whom he had collided with. But there was no time to fret about anything that had transpired between the two of them in the recent past. "How bad is the fire? I can help!" Trastion insisted, everything about him quite serious, and wasting no words in light of the urgent, and potentially life-threatening, situation for those living in the north wing.

@Arnyn

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Brian, Barracks Master
Barracks
The Fire

Pele's guard had found the Barracks Master right below the stairs to the North Wing. Brian had been sniffing the air when the guard came running down, followed by tendrils of grey smoke.

No! his mind thought in sudden alarm. Not AGAIN!

The guard was easily recognizable as Pele's - because he was wearing the livery of Aragorn's guards and he was here. By the time the man came into earshot, Brian hardly needed to hear his explanations. "Fire?" Brian called out quickly, not wasting any time.

"Yes, Sir!" the guard replied.

The Barracks Master nodded gravely and pointed back at the stairs. "If you left Captain Alarion up there, return to her at once! Get her out of there! She is your charge - the barracks are my own!"

Just as the man turned to head back to Pele, someone vehemently bumped into the Lieutenant. Trastion Leithor. Brian frowned with annoyance, although he didn't care much at the moment. "No time for protocol, Recruit-" he said swiftly. "I still need to see the fire for myself. But we need to assume the worst. Go - go; look for something to douse the fire and gather everyone you find to put them to work on this!"

Then the Lieutenant bounded up the steps just as fast as the youngest of the Rangers might - the danger to his beloved barracks suddenly changed his bearing in a way that he appeared twice the man he usually did.

Only one look at the flaming floor of the hallway made up his mind. He could not see the lamp, which was too far into the fire to be spotted - but he did see the way the flames seemed to be the wildest and the hottest in a recognisable pattern. Those flames were too vehement. ANd parts of the barracks had burned so many times by now, he knew what this was when he saw it. "Captain!" he called out, though he had a hard time seeing anyone, either Pele or her guard, with the smoke stinging at his eyes. "If you can hear me - get out, now! There is too much smoke!" They would have to slowly work their way along the hallway. And they'd need something to protect their lungs and their eyes.. Recruit Leithor had already drawn up his shirt over his mouth, he vaguely remembered.

On his way back down, someone rushed by him, on their way up, with a bucket of water. "NO!" Brian roared, fear gripping his heart. "NO water! This is no ordinary fire, and water will make it blast your face ff - do you HEAR me? You are in charge of making sure no one tries water, am I understood!? Tell people to soak some cloth into this instead, wring it out and breathe through it. If there are thick blankets and towels at hand, dunk them, wring them out meticulously and you can try to use them on the edges of the fire or where it burns less fiercely. NOT wet! DAMP!"

Uncharacteristically, the Lieutenant swore loudly, not caring who heard.

[Rillewen]

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

"Go - go; look for something to douse the fire and gather everyone you find to put them to work on this!"

Trastion nodded, one hand keeping his shirt up over his nose. He glanced quickly up the stairs, pausing for a few seconds to try to get some idea what they would be up against. He thought it smelled like something besides wood burning. He knew the smell of wood burning, and thought swiftly as he tried to place that other odor. Then it hit him. Right.. oil! That was why he'd first thought it was bacon. You don't douse a fire like that, he recalled. You smother it. Sand was best; in years past, they'd used tons of sand to create fire breaks at strategic intervals in the forest of his family's estate, in case of a natural fire, or one set by enemies. But if you didn't have sand... salt was a great alternative, as he remembered someone having imparted to him long ago. As that thought clicked in his mind, Trastion turned and ran straight for the kitchen, swiftly thinking of a variety of things he'd learned from a very young age.

"Fire in the barracks!" He yelled as he passed through, addressing anyone that happened to be in there. "Brian needs help in the North wing... NO water!" He added, before plowing into the kitchen, ignoring any protest that might come from the kitchen staff at this intrusion into their territory. "Salt! Where is the salt kept?" He asked someone there. "I need it, quick!"

Startled by this unexpected request, the person hastily snatched the small little salt cellar used for daily use and held it out to him.

Trastion shook his head, speaking with urgency, "No, no... I need a LOT. There must be a few barrels full somewhere.. 8 or 10 pounds per person for a year's supply, something like that, right?" He wasn't sure how much it was exactly, but he remembered that it was ideal to keep several pounds of salt on hand for each person under one's roof.. he couldn't remember if he'd learned that from hanging around the kitchens as a child, begging for treats, or during those endlessly dull lessons on how to run an estate; knowledge he never expected to need to know. Wherever he'd learned it, he was glad for it now.

Remembering some barrels he'd seen in the pantry during one of the times he had duties here, Trastion ran past the person to the pantry without waiting for a reply. And there they were, a few barrels stood in a cluster in the corner. He pulled the lids off, checking that they were in fact filled with salt. The one in front had been started on, being a little bit emptier than the rest. Maybe it wouldn't be too heavy for him. Grabbing it by the sides, Trastion tilted it on one edge and began rocking it first one way, then the other, moving it along steadily. But this was taking too long. He needed some help with the barrel, or else a better plan of getting the salt upstairs. He could fill a sack, maybe? He glanced around, letting the barrel drop back to its upright position as he grabbed a nearby sack of potatoes and dumped them out, then began hastily scooping salt into the sack in their place. The more he could bring upstairs at a time, the better. And the quicker he could get back up there, the better still.



@Isolde Alarion

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Barracks
Mid August - Early Morning

He’d taken his clothes to the laundry and was headed back up to the barracks when he first heard then saw the commotion that was happening in the entrance hall. Smoke was coming from the North Wing while people were running everywhere to either help or get out of the fires way.

He wasn’t sure what to do at first but then he caught sight of Trastion headed for the mess hall. He took off after him, trying his best to get by those going the opposite of him.

By the time he’d made it to to kitchen he’d lost track of Trastion but he noticed some of the kitchen staff looking towards the pantry. He must have gone in there. So with that reason he heading into the pantry and once inside he took a moment to stop and look around.

He saw his roomie seemingly filling bags with salt. “Trastion!” He called as he walked over to him. He could see he was trying to get as much salt as he could. Mourgan looked from the bag to the barrel and back. “That’ll take you forever, here, let me help.” He lightly moved his friend out of the way and leaned over to grab the barrel.

He groaned a bit at the weight of the barrel with its awkward shape, his fingers gripped the bottom then braced to lift it. Once he had it up he shifted it slightly to settle it. “Not sure what you need this for but..”He motioned toward the door. “Lead the way.”

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

Trastion looked up at the sound of his name, and was glad to see Mourgan there. Possibly the best person who could have come along to help! Trastion didn't need any further convincing to step out of the way as his much stronger roommate took over and actually lifted the barrel. "Thanks," He said, relieved. "We need it upstairs, as quick as possible." He ran ahead to hold open the pantry door for him so Mourgan could get out with the heavy load. "The North wing is on fire," He paused in the kitchen to grab a cloth napkin off of a stack of them. There was a pitcher of water nearby, and Trastion hastily dunked the napkin into it, then wrung it out. "Hang on a second, you'll need this." Trastion hastily came around behind Mourgan and tied the cloth around to shield his nose and mouth. "It won't keep the smoke out completely, but it'll help."

As an after thought, he grabbed the rest of the stack and dunked them all, and began wringing them out as he passed through the kitchen, thinking there might be others who would need them. "I don't know how bad the fire is, but we gotta pour salt over the flames.. trust me, it works like sand. It'll smother the flames quickly." He explained as they moved toward the stairs. "I helped put out a few forest fires during the war.. and I grew up in a house made of wood," He added, to give Mourgan a bit more reason to believe him, just in case there was any skepticism. "Do you need some help with that?" Trastion wondered, knowing from his own attempt at moving it that it was quite heavy. "I could probably get one side of it, if that'd be easier?" He asked, wondering if that might make it easier getting it up the stairs, as it looked awkward, and he'd really hate for Mourgan to end up falling down the stairs with the barrel and all.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Barracks
Mid August

She had not gone far, when the guard had already caught up to her with his long strides. Pele slowed to look at him and make sure he had done as he had been told.

"Barracks Master," the guard said in response to her questioning look, and as if to confirm his words, Lt. Brian's voice sounded from the entrance to the North Wing, calling for her. Pele rolled her eyes slightly, halting. She wanted to rush right after Amber where she had seen her last round a corner, but it would be merciless to leave the Barracks Master wondering if she had perished in the fire.

Reluctantly, Pele retraced her steps just far enough to see Lt. Brian where he stood. "I'm here, Lieutenant, safe and sound!" she called to him. "There might be people in the rooms, though I warned them of fire."

When Pele turned to search for the culprit yet again, the guard reached out for her arm. "We should leave the building, Captain. There's fire."

"Well, I am not blind," she grumbled at him. "And we need to catch that woman before she starts more fires. We cannot just leave her running around freely." She shook off the guard's hold and set off hastily in the intended direction, up the stairs towards where she had seen Amber turn off.

Seeing that he would not be able to dissuade her, and the only way would be to carry her out over his shoulder, kicking and screaming, the guard relented. The fire was still restricted to one hallway, and people were about to contain it already, so he did not press the point, yet hastened ahead of her with the words: "Let me take the point then at least." To that she agreed, though she warned him - "Be careful, she's not an untrained recruit."

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Barracks
Mid August - Early Morning
@Pele Alarion

“Hey You!” The voice simply made her pause a moment and her head swiveled to the left, leveling an amber gaze on Pele. Her lips curled into a malicious smile only matched by the swirls of dark smoke in her wake. She used the moment of Peles distraction to head up the stairs to the next floor of the barracks. Reaching the top of the steps she came to a quick stop next to a large desk.

Leaning over her hand snaked behind it. When it withdrew it held something wrapped. She wasted no time and continued her steps, unwrapping the dagger as she walked. She clinched it in her hand, her fingers almost twitching with anticipation as she moved into an alcove, her back pressed against the cold wall.

She waited, her breathing deep and calm as she lay in wait. After a moment she could hear footsteps coming down the hall. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment before her attack. This would put an end to the Alarion and she would have her revenge.

The steps came closer and became more clear. She took a breath and held it in as a slow smile spread over her lips. Her body tensed in anticipation, the steps were nearly even with the alcove. Slowly she opened her eyes as the steps were within striking distance.

Her left hand struck out first with the dagger firmly in her grip. It found purchase and when she turned to follow she was momentarily surprised not to find the Alarion as expected but her ever present guard. He looked surprised as she did. Both seemingly froze in place but for a moment.

She took the few seconds he stood looking at her and pulled her dagger from his shoulder and quickly pulled it across the only other vulnerable place she could see. His neck. She quickly stepped back as a river of crimson flowed, his fingers grasping at it before he hit his knees. The sound of armor clattered as it hit the floor with him in it at her feet but it didn’t distract her as she looked beyond and there stood the Alarion.

“Men have a habit of dying around you.” She spoke coldly as she slowly knelt to grab the guards sword in her right hand. “Surrender to me and all this will end.” Her fingers tightened on the sword as she spoke. She paused a moment. “No?” She already knew the answer and so a smile turned her lips that never reached her eyes. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

Meanwhile….

Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Helping Trastion put out the fire…
@Rillewen

Mourgan carried the heavy salt barrel and was watching his steps as Trastion held the pantry door for him. Hearing the North Wing was on fire he felt a sudden sense of urgency but he had to wait a moment as a cloth was tied around his nose and mouth. He nodded his understanding as they continued.

He was trying to concentrate on carrying the barrel as Trastion explained how he knew about the salt then Mourgan stopped at the base of the stairs when help was offered. “I think that would be best.” He shifted the barrel to let Trastion get a grip on it. Honestly he was relieved to have the help. “Here, get a good grip.” He instructed as he moved his hands.

With Trastions help it seemed things did move faster and they managed to make it up the stairs to the landing. Now they had to take it to the North Wing. Dark smoke was billowing from the hall. “I hope you’re right about this.” He spoke through his clothe.

He took a deep breath and looked at Trastion. He nodded his readiness. Right or wrong they were going to do this. His eyes were starting to sting but he waited for his friends instructions.

[Arnyn]

Barracks
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

A tumult of shouting and screaming broke from the entrance to the barracks when the door opened. Yet it was not a woman by Amber's of Relic's description who came from the door. It was a panicked looking Ranger. Yet Arnyn had learned that appearances could be deceiving, and waited. When another came from the door with a great rush, and the first Ranger returned with a bucket of something she couldn't discern from her position, running as fast as he could, Arnyn approached. "What is going on?"

The first Ranger simply answered with one word on his way back in. "Fire!" The second could spare a few more words for the Lieutenant, although not many, and his speech was swift. "It's the women's wing, Lieutenant. The Barracks Master is present - he says not to use water."

Arnyn frowned in thought.
A fire. A diversion?
No water. A grease fire? Oil, maybe?

She gritted her teeth. This, she could not ignore. If Relic had started the fire to get away... she would get away. "Well, go!" she urged the other Ranger. "If you cannot use water, we need things like sand - or dirt. The patch of grass and flowers next to the barracks has plenty of dirt. But avoid grass and flowers. Soil only. You can smother the fire by throwing it on." She'd face Brian's wrath about his meticulously maintained lawn later. Though she assumed that even he would not be able to fault her for this decision. "Get others to help you. Be swift!"

Suddenly the Lieutenant realized there was still an open window in the North Wing - by her doing. The window was a ways off the door rooms, and possibly no one would have realized or seen it was open. And depending on where the fire was... She possibly couldn't get to it by the stairs. There was no time to check. Others were handling things from the stairway. She needed to check that window. The fire shouldn't get a continuous flow of air to feed it.

Returning to where she had climbed down the barracks wall, the Lieutenant made her way back up. Luckily, up was always easier than down, and she made swift progress. Soon, she was back up on the roof, and then the higher roof on top of the North Wing. Arnyn rushed to the side of the window. There was smoke coming through, and the Lieutenant mentally berated herself for not thinking to prepare for smoke. She did the best she could, wrapping part of the light cloak around her neck, mouth and nose - enough so she could still breathe yet so it would keep out part of the smoke. She knew the first problem would become her eyes, however. Yet there was nothing to be done. She could not close the window from the outside. She would have to enter, close the window and then figure out her escape route. If there was none, she'd be forced to go back out through the very same window perhaps - but then at least she would have tried. Maybe she could even check whether there was anyone stuck inside still.

Arnyn drew a deep breath and smoothly lowered herself through the window - the usual way, making minimal noise if any. She heard an unfamiliar voice though she wasn't close enough to make out the words, and focused her eyes through the thing haze of smoke that filled the hallway. The smoke wasn't too bad - not yet, although she knew that could change in a matter of a few heartbeats. There was the shape of a woman a few yards away, her back to Arnyn, and the shape of someone else lying before her feet. The red pool of blood was unmistakable, smoke or not.

Ice gripped Arnyn's heart. Relic had not intended to run at all? Relic had purposefully remained, to kill off whoever she could find in the resulting panic? The Lieutenant had not considered this option yet, until this very moment. The woman ahead was holding a weapon - whether it was a long dagger or a short sword she could not tell, but that did not matter. The woman had not yet turned, not even to cast a look over her shoulder.

Did this mean the woman did not know Arnyn was there? Was it Relic, though? It was hard to see. Yet it was clear from the blood dripping from the woman's blade, that she had killed the person lying there on the floor. There was no panic in her bearing, no concern. If anything, there was malice that radiated from this person.

Slowly - quietly - Arnyn approached. One step, two - and then, beyond the woman, she saw another figure. Standing further down the hall. Good. If this was Relic... the Lieutenant would need the back-up.

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

Setting the things in his hands on top of the barrel, Trastion grabbed hold of the underside with one hand, and the top with the other, to help steady it. The barrel was heavy, but between Trastion and Mourgan, they managed well enough. If he'd had to carry it on his own, he was sure he wouldn't have been able, but thankfully that wasn't the case. "Don't worry, it'll work. Trust me." He assured his roommate, hoping he might have earned enough credibility for Mourgan to believe him, this time. Maneuvering the big barrel up the stairs was easier with one of them on each side of the barrel, and there was less risk of losing their balance and falling down the steps. Though his fingers, gripping the bottom of the heavy barrel, began to ache at the weight, he hung on. He told himself it was like climbing a steep cliff with his fingers clinging to a narrow handhold, supporting his weight, and that of all his gear. Something he'd done plenty of times simply for the enjoyment of reaching the top of such a cliff. He could certainly manage this short climb.

Once at the top of the stairs, Trastion paused to glance around quickly. He didn't see Lt. Brian around right away, but was sure he must be there somewhere. The smoke was much worse there, stinging his eyes and making it difficult to see much. Flames danced across the floor of the hallway, reaching upward toward the ceiling, as if trying to reach the level above. Trastion was glad he had left his shirt damp earlier. Though it was difficult to breathe through, it helped to filter out the smoke. But the heat from the fire might soon dry it, so that was another reason to be quick about this. But should they set the barrel down and scoop the salt out, or tilt the barrel and pour? He hesitated for a second, thinking quickly, before deciding. "Set it down," He answered Mourgan. After they'd done that, he grabbed one of the big mixing bowls he had borrowed from the kitchen, and handed it to Mourgan. "Anywhere there's flames, dump it on as thick as you have to!"

Glancing around, he was glad to see some people had gotten some towels and blankets damp and were slapping at the fire with them, under instructions from the Lieutenant. But was there anyone still in the dorms? How many people might be trapped? Was the smoke getting to them? "Is anyone still inside the rooms?" He called out, to anyone who might know the answer. He really hoped not, but given the early hour, it seemed likely. But then, he wasn't sure how many people actually lived in this wing. Coughing from the smoke, he took a moment to fix his shirt as it tried to slip down from his nose. "I've got damp napkins if anyone needs breathing protection," He called out, in case anyone didn't have something to cover their faces. Grabbing another large bowl from the top of the barrel, he started scooping salt onto the flames as quickly as he could. With enough people working, it shouldn't take long to deplete the contents of the barrel, but luckily there were a couple more still down in the pantry. Using the bowl like a shovel, he scooped up as much salt as he could with it and then flung it onto the nearest flames, over and over until that spot was extinguished.

Gradually moving deeper as he worked, he leaped aside as one of the doors beside him suddenly caught fire, the blaze rapidly and eagerly spreading upward. "Need some help here!" He called out to the nearest person with one of those damp blankets, his throat feeling a little raw from all the smoke. The shirt wasn't the best option, but it was better than nothing. Pointing to the newly blazing door, Trastion hurried to refill his bowl to put out the flames at the base of it. They were making progress, at least, but it seemed the oil stretched at least half the length of the hallway, and the flames were eager to devour anything they could.. wooden doors, floorboards, tapestries..

As he was returning to throw another bowlful of salt on the base of the door, one of the oil lamps hanging on the wall near him suddenly exploded, the ceramic shards bursting outward from the pressure buildup inside. Dropping the bowl, Trastion ducked down swiftly with a startled yell, not even quite sure what had happened for a moment. His arms had come up instinctively to shield his face, and now he glanced around in brief confusion. As his gaze landed on the space where the lamp had been, he glanced around and saw remnants of it scattered nearby. At least one shard was sticking in his arm, but he was more concerned about how much oil might have been added to the hallway, and whether any had gotten on him. "Keep away from any lamps!" He called out to warn others, pretty sure there were a couple more of them hanging at various intervals along the hall. He grabbed up the bowl and emptied whatever salt was left in it onto a fresh patch of oil, then ran back toward the barrel to get more, eyes burning.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
North Wing, third (top) floor
Mid August
@Arnyn , @Isolde Alarion

"Get.. back..." Pele reached for the guard when she saw the dagger flash forward from the hiding, but she was too late - it only took mere moments for Amber-Relic to overcome the initial astonishment and slash the guard's throat. She considered calling out for help but it seemed that the guard was already beyond it and she did not wish for others to come here and get harmed. Instead she drew her dagger.

"Surrender? Don't be silly," the Captain replied with a scornful laugh, and instead of raising her chin and planting her feet to back her words up with attitude, she simply switched the dagger to her left hand and reached for the sword with her right to adapt her weaponry when Relic picked up the fallen guard's sword.

The smoke was already reaching them from below and through the door from the stairway, and Pele found her eyes stinging and watering. Yet she could make out someone emerging from one of the rooms further down the hallway.

"Suppose you should stop sticking your nose in my business, Relic," she said, slowly sidestepping the unfortunate guard to get closer to her enemy. "This is my ground. And... Death will reach you too, sooner or later. Innocent blood will be avenged."

Pele could not be sure but the shape of the other person in the hallway looked much like Arnyn to her. This was certainly an advantage, since the Umbarian was now caught between the two of them. Another quick step or two to cover the distance, and without a warning the Captain lunged forward with a thrust of her sword for Relic's face in hopes of making her retreat should the attack fail, the dagger in her other hand poised for defence.

[Arnyn]

Barracks - North Wing, Third floor
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

A few steps closer and she recognized the livery of the guards of the Citadel. Amber, Relic... had disposed of one of them so easily? Arnyn had not been there, but it seemed almost unreal. Ice snaked around her heart, in a vague hint of fear and mostly forboding. There was danger here. She needed to tread lightly.

Not having her bow now was possibly Arnyn's deepest regret since she'd realized she'd wanted to tell the Rangers more about this whole situation. The latter had been righted, in the meantime. But not having her bow now, was a fact that she would never be able to change. All she had was her dagger, and three throwing knives. Her resolve deepened. And her hands. Her arms. Her feet, her legs. Everything else she could think to use, if it were needed. Most importantly, though - she had her head. And she had her heart.

The ice around it was joined by tendrils of hot flame, as she heard and saw it was Pele who was approaching Amber/Relic. Here the Lieutenant was seeing two women who had become, if anything, mortal enemies.

Relic - a slaver of Umbar, a stealer of their Gondorian kin and countryfolk. Relic - a ruthless criminal, a sadistic sorceress. Relic - the closest thing to the bane of Pele's existence. Relic - the reason for Pele's confusion, her doubts, her hurts - both physical and emotional.

And then there was Pele. Pele - the eager, motivated young woman Arnyn remembered, when Pele had joined Gondor's armed forces all those years ago. Pele - the responsible ranger who cared so deeply for those around her. Pele - one of Arnyn's most trusted officers when they had worked together years ago in the Hyandaner division as well as later when Arnyn had become part of the higher command. Pele - her sword sister. Pele - her fellow Hyandaner - always. Pele - now her Captain.

Arnyn's most important reason for being an officer had always been to serve those she fought with. If Arnyn had one objective, as she used her advanced skills in stealth upon her approach in that hallway - it was this: To keep Pele safe. Safe from this woman who wanted her to suffer, and likely to die.
And Arnyn would do whatever it took to reach that objective.

She slowly unsheathed her dagger while Pele spoke and stepped past the dying or already dead guard on the floorboards. A decade of experience and training told her she might need it if for some reason Relic were to turn around and target the Lieutenant. For their enemy held two blades, and it would be foolish not to have even one. And Arnyn was closing the distance between them now.

When Pele moved in on Relic with her sword, aimed high, Arnyn went low, to avoid any and all possibility of getting caught up in Pele's blade if Relic managed to evade it. Instead, Arnyn aimed a kick at the back of Relic's knee - and no further, to hopefully imbalance the sorceress. Her next move, regardless of success of not with this kick, would be to move even closer and slash at the tendons at the back of the Umbarian's knee.

***
Barracks
@Rillewen

Lieutenant Brian, Barracks Master
The Fire

Much could be said for Lieutenant Brian. That he was a stick in the mud. That he was too detail-oriented. Too strict. Lacking of some human understanding. But after this day, different things would be said as well. At least for a while. For such was his plight: his qualities were all too easily forgotten.

While the Barracks Master never joined the Rangers on a mission, he had now positioned himself on a different front line. He stood nearest to the flames of them all, just as close as or closer even than the boldest Rangers who were fighting the fire with him. All the flame and smoke might make it harder for new arrivals to spot him at first, for once the orders were given, he saw few reasons to invite the smoke more easily into his lungs. He'd tied a damp piece of cloth around his nose and mouth, breathing in only through the nose and out through the mouth, through barely parted lips.

He heard Recruit Leithor's voice through everything else going on around him, and made a mental note that the kid held his head about him in a crisis. At least, in this crisis. The Lieutenant was just stomping down on a damp towel over some of the flames when the lamp near Trastion exploded. Distracted, he stopped moving for a second to look and verify no one was hurt badly enough to be ordered to leave and get help. "If you are badly injured - don't be a hero and seek help. If not, keep up the good work!" the barracks master shouted. They had made progress on the fire, which meant they were on the right track. If only they could make quicker progress...

A look down at his boots made Brian move quickly. Part of the leather seemed to be melting. He'd been standing on the damp towel for too long, the heat from the floorboards drenched in oil moved through the towel, not enough to light it aflame but enough to affect the integrity of the outside of his boots.

The lamps were a problem. His gaze trailed past the walls, which he could hardly see now - but the Barracks Master knew exactly where they were placed without being able to actually see them. One of the Rangers was stuffing a damp towel at the base of one of the wooden doors right next to one. "You!" Brian called out to him - or her. "Move away from there!" But the Ranger did not realize who the Lieutenant was yelling at. Brian rushed toward them, clinging to the wall as flames licked at his boots and his trousers. He positioned himself between the Ranger and the lamp. "MOOOOOOOVE!" he yelled, angrily, and placed a heavy hand on the Ranger's shoulder to move her - and himself - back away from the lamp.

They had only taken one step when the lamp in question suffered the same explosive fate as the one near Trastion had. Lieutenant Brian dimly felt some of the shards penetrating the skin and the flesh of his upper back and shoulders, through the summer cloth of his uniform. The adrenaline dulled the pain, and his eyes honestly felt worse at the moment. When the Ranger was back with the others, he told everyone: "Stay together and do not venture further into the hallway by yourself! We tackle this as a team. One foot at a time!"

Seeing Trastion and Mourgan working with what looked like salt from a barrel, he felt reassured. "Help them!" He ordered the others, and he removed the top black layer of the uniform to put the deed to his own words and use the black dress shirt as a container to transport the salt.

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Mid August - Early morning
Helping put out the fire
@Rillewen

He nodded at Trastions instructions to spread the salt anywhere the fire was. He took the offered bowl and dipped into the salt, scooping it nearly full. He then turned and tossed it at the closest burning thing he could, a patch of oil that was lingering near a door trying to catch it on fire. He was pleasantly surprised to see the flames being doused by the salt! It worked!

Encouraged by this he hurried back to get another bowl of salt. It was during this that one of the wall lamps exploded and he quickly looked over to see Trastion duck down. Momentarily he was concerned for him till he saw his friend moving. He yelled to keep clear of the lamps causing Mourgan to try to find them on the wall down the hall but it was useless. The smoke and flames made it impossible to see far, he wiped at his watering eyes.

He got another scoop of salt and made his way past who he thought was Lieutenant Brian who was also helping and once more threw it on the flames. One foot at a time as the Lieutenant said, it seemed to be working but the smoke was really starting to burn his eyes and his throat by now. He wiped at it with the back of his wrist and continued on.

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Barracks
Mid August - Early morning
@Pele Alarion @Arnyn

Amber matched the Alarions slow progression with a slow back step as she spoke, watching her intently. “You are my business!” She growled back at her. “Innocent blood will be spilled you mean.” She retorted. It was then that the Alarion quick stepped and thrust her sword at her.

She went to step back but quickly found a kick to her knee which prevented her from fully moving out of the way and although she avoided a sword to her face the sword did find a bit of purchase to her cheek. It sliced enough she could feel the sting of the swords edge against her skin. She didn’t have time to worry about it as the kick sent her off balance and she had to half hop and twist to regain her footing.

After the twist she found herself turned half ways facing two opponents, a weapon pointed at both of them. She also found her back to a door. She kicked backwards at the door to see if would open and to her surprise it did! She hated to leave the Alarion but knew her chances of fighting off both her and the Lieutenant and being caught between the two were fools odds.

She quickly ducked into the room and slammed the door.. once inside the small room she looked around and seen a chair. Grabbing it she jammed it against the door. It wouldn’t hold forever but she didn’t need forever. The dagger she tucked into her waist belt and the sword she found useless so she tossed it aside.

Now she had to get out of the room, the window! She jumped up on the desk and opened the window. First she looked up, she could climb it. Always easier to climb. She made her way to the roof and once there she came to stand and look over the area for a moment, smoke was wafting from the lower windows.

It was then that she ran her hand over her cheek and the cut. She looked at the blood and smiled. She had to give the Alarion credit, she didn’t bleed easily. Her eyes narrowed on that thought. If it weren’t for that Lieutenant she wouldn’t be bleeding now at all!!

Speaking of which. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the flask she’d hidden there. Uncorking it she wasted no time in drinking deeply from it. The liquid once more curled around her insides like a hot snake and she had to close her eyes at it. It was intoxicating to be honest.

Upon opening them she wiped once more at her cheek. The blood wiped away to show no sign of the previous cut from the sword, she smiled. She felt invigorated. Rested. She corked the flask and returned it to her pocket as she looked over towards the other roof. Having seen the Lieutenant atop the roof earlier she knew there must be a way down from the higher roof of the North wing.

She cast a glance back to the side of the building, she hated beating a hasty retreat but it had to be done..now, she looked back to the expanse of roof and thought of where to go next. The Alarion would pay for the blood on her cheek, pay with the blood of the only thing she knew she loved. The Rangers.

Time to spill some of that innocent blood. A look of satisfaction crossed her features. It was good to have a goal.

She took off across the roof…

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion @Arnyn

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

Trastion had brought a stack of bowls from the kitchen. He'd quickly grabbed as many large ones as he could find while he was passing through, though they were not all the same size. Though it probably wasn't enough for everyone who was there to help, it would help their efforts greatly. As he made another trip to the barrel, he paused to look at his arm. The shard of ceramic didn't look all that big, and he doubted it was a serious wound, but he left it in for now. He figured if he pulled it out, then he'd start bleeding more. Better to wait and deal with that later.

The salt barrel would probably be depleted more quickly once Lt Brian had ordered several others to help with the spread of salt, and so Trastion tried to keep attentive to how quickly it was emptying, so as to get an idea when he and Mourgan ought to go for another. It already looked like they'd need to get more soon. It was over half empty already. Refilling his bowl, he went toward the nearest flames, having to dodge around a few other people who were also assisting in the firefighting efforts. Emptying his bowl onto some near flames, Trastion turned to make his way back to the salt barrel. As he turned, he frowned, noticing another ranger..someone he didn't know.. pausing to lean against a wall, doubled over coughing. Trastion ran over, and grabbed his arm. "Come on," He dragged the other along with him back toward the stairs. "Keep down," he told the other, who didn't have anything over his face to protect from the smoke. "You need to get to the houses of healing, you breathed too much smoke."

Rubbing his eyes, Trastion wondered how many of them would end up in the houses of healing before the day was over. The smoke was stinging, making it hard to see, but they still had a ways to go before the fire was out. This was bringing back a few memories, but it was also different than any fires he'd faced before. As he and the other were moving away from the fire, he, slipped a bit on the loose salt and dirt now covering this part of the hallway. Trastion didn't think much about it and started to keep going, but something caught his eye, barely. It was hard to see much in all the smoke, but there was something there in the dirt that didn't match the rest. Even still, he nearly disregarded that, except... some instinct told him to look.

With one hand pressing his damp shirt up against his face, Trastion did a double-take before reaching down swiftly, grabbing a handful of the dirt. The smoke made his eyes burn, but when he saw what was in his hand, Trastion was grinning. At last, one of his missing items! He shook most of the excess dirt off of the little hand-sewn trinket before stuffing it in his pocket. Then, feeling much more joyful despite the circumstances, he continued onward, making sure that the other ranger set off down the stairs. "We'll need more salt soon," Trastion said to Mourgan as he passed with another bowlful, noticing that with several others now scooping salt out, it was indeed emptying much more rapidly.

Yet, there seemed like too many people now hurrying back and forth between the barrel and the flames. Between them, and the ones still battling the flames licking at doors and tapestries and other decor with damp blankets, it was difficult to navigate the hallway without bumping into people who were also trying to help. Lt Brian's words from just a moment ago seemed to echo in his head. We tackle this as a team. Indeed.. teamwork it should be, but this.. everyone was now getting in everyone else's way. He thought back to some of the times he had aided in fire control, back home, with folks who had a lot of practice at putting out forest fires. Depositing his load of salt on another patch of flames, he turned toward the nearby barrack's master, catching the man's arm to get his attention through the haze of smoke. "Sir," Trastion's voice was a little hoarse by now. "it's too hard to keep at this, too many people bumping into each other... maybe we outta try a different way?" He suggested, thinking of an idea that would make it easier and more efficient. "A line of people perhaps, passing the salt steadily along to the fire?" He passed the thought on to the lieutenant, assuming folks would take the order better from him than they would from a recruit, and even half-expected the lieutenant to bark back at him for having the audacity to speak up with an idea.. this was the lieutenant's domain after all, and he wasn't on the best of terms with the man.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
North Wing, third (top) floor
Mid August
@Arnyn , @Isolde Alarion

"You will regret this business, Relic," Pele growled, as the edge of her sword grazed the woman's cheek. The feeling brought a strange taste of satisfaction to her, yet not enough, and if her icy glare could kill, it surely would. Arnyn had unbalanced their enemy somewhat, yet their combined efforts did not seem to have sufficient results. Pele drew her sword back and over her shoulder to deliver another attack, yet before she could commit to it, Relic disappeared behind the door, slamming it in their faces.

"Lightning strike that woman!" Pele exclaimed and kicked at the door, only to find that it gave just a tiny bit before closing again; Relic had apparently found a way to block it. The Captain turned to look at Arnyn. "We need to get through and not let her escape," she stated what seemed to be obvious either way. Sheathing her weapons, Pele planted her shoulder against the door and pushed against it before the cough made her stop the effort. The smoke was getting to her.

Her eyes then went to the guard - while catching Relic was highly important, she could not just leave him lying there, could she? "I need to check on my guard," she then said to Arnyn. "I fear he is dead, but perhaps... and should see if someone could bring him down from here at some point. But... the door must be opened one way or another." She did not relish the thought of explaining to the King the loss of the man, and possibly taking on the duty to inform his family. Guilt tugged at her heart again, yet she redirected it to feed the anger against Relic instead, and she slammed against the door once more.

[Arnyn]

Barracks - North Wing, Third floor
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

Her kick found the back of Relic's knee. Their adversary was unbalanced, but - to her credit - did not fall. Arnyn noted the blood on the woman's cheek. Pele. But most of her attention went to the weapons the Umbarian pointed at them. Arnyn was just about to make a move when Relic kicked at the door behind her. She had to stop her own momentum not to attack the door.

Pele did not hold back, and kicked angrily at the door. Arnyn's dark eyes, discontented, first surveryed the door for a split second. Then they shifted to Pele. Not let her escape. Yes. Get through the door? Not necessarily. She was about to say something about Pele's efforts at the door when her Captain coughed and stopped pushing at the wood. It seemed that Pele's thoughts were all over the place, and that caused her to focus on that closed door more than anything else...

Arnyn put her free hand on Pele's arm that was closest to her, and not the one slamming into the door. "Pele," she said, and when it seemed like that was not getting her Captain's attention, she repeated her friend's name - louder. "Pele. Stop. Listen." She half-dragged the woman a few paces away from the door. "You are angry. So am I." Truly, she was. If Pele stopped to look, she would be able to tell from the dark look in the Lieutenant's eyes and the tension in her arms, neck and shoulders.

"We must keep our heads about us." The Lieutenant paused briefly, to let that sink in. "Relic barred the door. Either she is staying put until she leaves this way herself. Or she will use the other exit. The window." Jumping down from the third floor would be folly. There was no way down from this side. That left one option, other than this hallway. The roof.

"Keep an eye on this door. Check the condition of your guard. DO NOT keep barging at the door. You'll fill your lungs with smoke. I will check the roof. I will call if I see her. If not, she's still in there. We can watch both exits until she leaves." Then Arnyn wasted not another second and ran for the window she had used to many times. She sheathed her dagger on the way and pulled herself up and through the window with practiced ease and precision. Her fingers curled over the edge of the roof. As she pulled herself up more cautiously, she saw Relic right away, drinking something.

The Lieutenant partially lowered herself to yell through the window. "Pele!" It would be enough to alert her friend, she knew.

She pulled herself back up and climbed onto the roof just when Relic was taking off across the roof. The Lieutenant soundlessly set off after her, not waiting for Pele. Regardless, Pele should be right behind her, and they had no time to lose. They could not risk Relic getting away and doing who knew what. Arnyn left her dagger where it was, but readied one of her throwing knives. Once she got within a five yard range, she flicked the knife at Relic.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
North Wing, third floor - roof
Mid August
@Arnyn , @Isolde Alarion

Held back from any further futile attempts at breaking down the door, Pele took a few breaths, as deep as the smoke allowed, and looked into Arnyn's words while she suggested a different and more effective approach to the situation.

"You are right," she agreed. "Let's do this."

While Arnyn took off to the same place by which she had entered, Pele quickly knelt by her guard paying no mind to the fact that she ended up staining herself with his blood while she checked for any signs of life. There were none. Arnyn's call caught her attention, and she swiftly stood.

A split second of indecision, and then she shouted towards the staircase: "A man down! Third floor. North wing!" There was little hope that anyone could be spared from the efforts of putting out the fire; yet perhaps someone would come here and tend to the body before she was able to get back and do so herself. With that she turned and ran for the room Arnyn had entered. She closed the door behind her to keep the flow of air to the minimum, and in a couple long strides crossed the room to the window. She was slower and more careful as she climbed up on the roof, mindful of being encumbered by her longsword. When Pele finally looked over the edge, she did so in time to see the two some distance away already and Arnyn going for one of her throwing knives. The situation seemed relatively in control, yet she pulled herself up onto the roof as fast as she could and set off after the two in an attempt to catch up.

[Arnyn]

Barracks
@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion

Lieutenant Brian, Barracks Master
The Fire

Someone caught his arm. Brian looked over to find Trastion. The young Ranger's suggestion seemed to take a second or two to sink in. Not because the Lieutenant did not like it. Not because he did not understand it. But because it was so logical a course, so obvious a thing - his mind seemed to grasp at the answer to the question why he had not already passed out such orders.

"Agreed," the barracks master said, nodding at Trastion. Then his voice boomed through the hallway, even carrying down the staircase. "Make a line between the fire and the barrel," he shouted. He made his way through the rangers running back and forth and grabbed a number of them by the arm or shoulder. "You - you - you -... First go dunk the cloth in front of your face in the water again." He pointed in the direction of the stairs, on top of which the bucket had been desposited, off to the side into a small corner made by the bannister. "Then - the line. NOW! Listen to Recruit Trastion." He put both hands on Trastion's shoulders to point him out to the rangers in question, in case they did not yet know him. "He's in charge of the salt."

Once those rangers had done so, he ordered the others to go rinse out the cloth they were breathing through. Then he grabbed Mourgan by the arm. "Get two more rangers to help you and bring up another barrel of salt from the kitchens. SALT - nothing else. Go, go!"

[Arnyn]

Barracks


Hyandaner Kaylin Maethyr
The Fire

The smoke was visible from a ways off. Kaylin was coming down the lane and could see the columns coming from the barracks clearly enough. "What the -" she whispered, before bursting off into a sprint toward the building. When she got close, she noticed a few Rangers digging up Brian's beloved, landscaped patch of grass (calling it a garden would be too generous, despite the pride the barracks master took in it). If she wasn't so perturbed by the smoke, she might have started laughing.

"What is going on?" she called out to the nearest woman. The Ranger recognized her and shoved a bucket of soil into Kaylin's hands. "North Wing!" she ordered, even though she held no rank over Kaylin. "Fast!"

With her military history, Kaylin had no qualms at shutting up and taking orders. She rushed into the barracks, bucket at the ready. She didn't ask any questions, for it was not necessary. The smoke was worse here. Someone pushed a wet cloth into her face, so she put down the bucket and tied it around her mouth and nose. Kaylin ran straight up the stairs where most of the activity was going on, and found the barracks master barking orders at Mourgan. Then he turned toward her. "Hyandaner Kaylin!" His eyes fell on the bucket. "On with it, then!"

She hurried past line were bowls were being passed back and forth, until she was nearest the fire. Another ranger held out his hands for the bucket. "Hand it to me," he said. "Get more." And so she did. Before she knew it, she was running back out to get more dirt to smother the fire.

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
FIRE! FEAR! FOES! AWAKE!

Trastion was quite relieved when the lieutenant actually agreed with his thoughts. He was further surprised to hear that he was in charge of the salt. He hadn't actually expected, or asked, to be in charge of anything, but he didn't argue or protest. Mourgan was sent off to get salt, so it was a relief that that issue was covered. Surely, between Mourgan and two others, they could manage to bring up another barrel. Now, Trastion only had to focus on keeping the salt flowing, as it were. He gave a nod to the barrack's master and made his way swiftly to the barrel. He still had the bowl he had started with, but wouldn't for long.

As some people went to rinse their face-cloths, others began to fall into an orderly line. Trastion figured his shirt probably needed re-dampening but he had to wait for a few others to finish first. In the meanwhile, he dug his bowl into the salt. "Here, take this," He said as he passed it to whoever was closest to the barrel. "Where's an empty one?" He glanced around before grabbing an empty one that someone handed him. He scooped salt into it, then handed it back. "Take this, pass me another." He told the ranger nearest him, until the others in the line were catching on. He sent a few more bowls, then noticed that the bucket of water had no one standing at it now. Motioning for the ranger who was next to the barrel to take over for a moment, he stepped away from the barrel just long enough to splash the front of his shirt and get it damp again, then hastened back.

It didn't take long to develop a rhythm of sorts. Scoop, pass the bowl. Grab another bowl, repeat. With other rangers passing the full bowls down the line to be poured onto the salt, and simultaneously passing empty bowls back to the barrel, it soon became monotonous. But it was efficient. But, it also meant the salt was depleting quite steadily. With his eyes stinging and watering so much, it was difficult to see very well, but he was doing his best to keep track of how much salt was left. Hopefully, Mourgan would return soon with a fresh barrel, because before long Trastion would have to turn the barrel on its side to get to the stuff in the bottom.

[Isolde Alarion]

Recruit Amber
Rooftops ~ Mid August
@Pele Alarion @Arnyn

She’d just taken off again and hadn’t gotten far when she felt the biting sting of something sharp hitting her right shoulder. It was enough to make her catch herself and she grabbed at the area, her fingers grasping the throwing knife as she momentarily spun on her assailant.

Pulling the throwing knife from her shoulder she showed no sign of pain from the action only deep hate registered on her features. Her gaze narrowed on the Lieutenant. Two could play at that game. The same knife that had bitten deep into her shoulder was now being thrown back. She aimed for the Lieutenants torso and the moment the blade was let loose she turned on her heel and once more ran for the edge of the roof to the lower levers.

Only now she had limited use of her right arm so when she went to jump off the roof when she landed she had to brace herself with her left hand only. She cursed its uselessness under her breath. She didn’t curse for long before she ran for the edge of the barracks building where she could see below her the chaotic scene of smoke and people running around and shouting. Amber eyes cast around for a good place to slip into the crowd. She watched as three men came from the barracks and were headed somewhere away from the fire and the chaos.

Meanwhile…

Mourgan was doing his best to beat back the flames by throwing salt anywhere he saw it. He coughed behind the cloth he wore to protect his nose and mouth and help him breathe only now it was beginning to dry out and the smoke was making it’s way in. He felt someone grab his arm and turned to the Lieutenant Brian. When ordered to take two men and bring more barrels of salt he nodded in understanding. He handed his bowl off to the next in line and grabbed the next two larger men he came across.

They left the fire behind and once stepped out into the main area Mourgan lifted his clothe to take in a large breath of fresh air and clear his lungs, with the wave of his hand he suggested the other two also take the time they had to get some air.

“Come this way, the salts in the cellar.” He instructed the men as they quickened their pace to follow him towards the kitchen. “Mourgan! Wait up!” Shouted one of the men, he didn’t want to lose him…

Up on the rooftop..

She watched the men and was going to wait for them to pass till once spoke up. His words caught her attention and her eyes narrowed in interest. That name. The one he called the other name, it was familiar. She grit her teeth as she recalled where she’d heard that name before. “Mourgan.” It hissed across her lips like a curse. The night she’d went into the Alarion office and went through her files she came across his file, another Alarion.

Well, well. If she couldn’t kill one Alarion she could aim for another, at least then her time here wouldn’t have been a complete waste. With her target in sight she grabbed the edge of the roof and slipped over the side and lowered herself to the ground.

She took a moment to reach for her flask, uncorked it and drank the contents till the last of it slipped down her throat. She would need all its healing powers now. She tossed the empty flask to the ground. She watched the men enter the mess hall. Closing her eyes she whispered her dark words and a fire built within the wound in her shoulder. It burned more than the simple cut from the blade on her thumb but then there was more repair to be done. She let it heal as she ducked into an alcove in the wall.

She had another reason to pause. She needed a new look and she had just the one in mind. Once more she closed her eyes and spoke under her breath. When done she didn’t open them immediately. She could feel the change in her, her body making adjustments to its new form.

Upon opening them she looked down at herself, her left hand reaching up to touch the hair. She could see the new colored strands and smiled. She stepped out of the alcove feeling better than she had in awhile, at least this form was useful.

She wasted no time in following where the three men had disappeared into the mess hall, she could see them close now. They were returning with a couple large barrels of something, two of the men carried one of the barrels and Mourgan seemed to be doing his best to bring up the rear with a barrel of his own. The first man seemed relieved when he spotted the woman entering the mess hall.

“Glad you’re here! Mourgan could use a hand with that barrel.” He nearly smiled with relief along with his barrel mate. “I’ll give you a hand boys.” The smile on her oval face didn’t reach her dark brown eyes. She moved closer to them but instead of reaching out to help she pulled the dagger from her waist and dispatched the pair hauling the first barrel.

The large salt barrel hit the floor about the time the two men did which left Mourgan disbelieving his eyes as he let the barrel he was holding fall. He quickly went to the closest man and put his hand over the bleeding wound on his neck.

“Help me!!” He called both at the woman before him who looked down at him with no remorse to be found in her brown eyes and for anyone who might hear him. Mourgan tried to stop the bleeding but it was soon apparent it was hopeless, he was gone.

Mourgan rest on his knees with blood on his hands, he couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why would she do this?! She wouldn’t, he knew she wouldn’t. His mind was connecting pieces of conversations, information, a woman…yes, a woman. Relic. This had to be her, somehow.

He began to stand, slowly to gauge her reaction. “You’re not the Lieutenant.” He tried to keep his tone even but his anger was rising. She first smiled then a laugh made its way from her throat. “Can’t fool you can I? Mourgan.” She paused to see how knowing his name would affect him but he seemed unfazed by it. “You know, I might just keep this look.” She pulled the long blonde braid over her shoulder and admired the athletic build of the tall woman.

“If that’s how you want to die that’s fine with me.” Mourgan spoke but watched the woman closely, and he was right to do so. She pulled a dagger from her waist nearly too fast for him to see it but he caught the movement just in time to take a step backward and lean back. Instead of his throat it cut a line through his tunic and across his chest.

He rebounded by grabbing both her wrist and he pulled her close then twisted her around to where her arms were crossed in front of her with his grip holding her tight against him. “Help! Someone help!” He yelled uncaring against her ear to anyone with in earshot. He had a good grip on her but she surprised him with her strength and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold her like this.

Just then to his relief a young Ranger stepped in the door. “Help me restrain her!” Mourgan ordered him but he didn’t move, he looked surprised.

“No, help me! He’s lost his mind. Look!” She turned her chin to the two dead men on the floor. “He killed them and now he wants to kill me!” Lieutenant Arnyn cried out. The young man looked confused as he looked from her to the blood on Mourgans hands.

“Let the Lieutenant go Ranger Mourgan!” He was reaching for his sword. “She’s not the Lieutenant!” Mourgan answered and shook his head. “I can’t let her go!” He growled with frustration as he watched him pulling his sword.
“Get the Captain!” Mourgan ordered him but she countered the young rangers move to get the Captain by letting out her best pathetic cry. “No..don’t leave me! He wants me dead! Help me! Please!” She sobbed. Mourgan could see the indecision in the young rangers face.

Which by the way seemed a bit hazy to him and he did a hard blink and a slight head shake to clear his vision. Relic noticed it and smiled behind her pitiful facade. The poisoned blade was having its effects on the young Alarion. All she had to do was carry on a few more minutes and he’d be fighting imaginary foes as his heart beat out of his chest. Then he would drop like a tree, a dead tree that is. She just had buy enough time for it to weaken his grip.

[Rillewen]

Cali Dringolben
Investigating smoke

It was still pretty early, shortly after sunrise. Cali usually arrived earlier than the sun rose to begin her work. And so, as she had begun doing ever since the Midsummer incident, the smith took the first half hour or so just checking through everything to make sure nothing was missing. About the time she was finishing, though, she stopped and sniffed the air. Smoke? She caught her breath, whirling to look toward the forge. Smoke..? How? Instantly, her mind raced, hurrying to investigate the forge as her mind swiftly went over her actions the night before when she closed up the forge. Did she forget to put out the fire? No. Did an ember somehow get missed?

As her mind was racing over the possible ways she might have caused this, Cali came to a skidding halt in front of the forge, nearly panicked at the thought that the forge and armory, and possibly headquarters, might soon be fully on fire. But there was no fire here. She frowned in confusion. Then, she hurried back through the armory, past all the rows of weapons and armor, all the way to the door, to try and find out what was going on. Cautiously opening it, her eyes widened in shock to see smoke pouring out of the building across from her. The barracks. Instantly, her mind flashed to everyone she knew who resided there. Cali had no idea where each of those people lived in the barracks.. having only been to the mess hall once, she wasn't even sure which side was which(for men and women) but whatever the case, a fire was definitely not good.

Running across to the other building, she intended to offer her assistance in some way, frantically thinking of certain people. Unalmis especially, but also Mourgan, whom she'd become friendly with. She had her leather apron on, and gloves. That would provide some protection at least. About the time she stepped into the barracks building, her attention was drawn toward the sound of a thud. She could hear voices upstairs, and she started toward the stairs.

"Help me restrain her!"

The call stopped Cali in her tracks, and she frowned. Was that Mourgan's voice? Trying to wave smoke from her eyes, Cali hurried through the doors into what she knew was the mess hall, all the while hearing what sounded like an argument and some sort of commotion. Then she stopped in shock at the scene before her. Two dead people (neither were familiar to her, thank goodness) lay on the floor, while Mourgan was struggling with.. Lieutenant Arnyn? And another ranger, also unknown to her, was approaching with a sword drawn. Cali blinked to clear smoke from her stinging eyes, trying to make sure she was seeing this properly. Trying to wrap her head around this whole thing. She had only met Arnyn briefly, but.. she had gotten to know Mourgan some since he first came to the armory. And she found this entire situation.. strange. Even stranger was the fact that Arnyn was...crying. Sobbing, even. That struck her as oddest of all.

Cali had no idea what was going on, but she had felt that she'd gotten a fair estimate of Arnyn's personality even from the brief two meetings in the armory just after Midsummer. A caring and kind person, yet one with a lot of inner strength. Cali had felt that there was at least a little bit of similarity between them, in that Arnyn did not strike her as the type of woman to become hysterical in a crisis. Much less break down sobbing and pleading. Cali may not be a ranger but she could make a few observations, just the same. "Listen to Mourgan," She spoke up, addressing the ranger with the sword with a frown. "He says that isn't the lieutenant... and strange though this is.. I believe him. Think about it, have you ever known of your lieutenant to break down into a hysterical fit?" She tried to convince him to look past the surface of how this looked. "And look!" She pointed to the bloodied dagger still in Arnyn's hand. "There is blood on her dagger! A dagger which was stolen from my armory.." The smith added, anger burning in her eyes at the recognition of the missing blade.

"Do as he says! Get the captain, right away!" She told the ranger whose name she didn't know. Despite knowing she really had no authority to give orders or anything, she hoped he would listen to her. "I don't know what's going on but I think we should listen to Mourgan." Cali declared, remembering how Arnyn had reacted upon hearing about the missing weapons. "But it doesn't matter what you or I think, it's for the captain to judge. So get her, now!" She urged him, swiftly thinking back to a few things. In fact.. she had been too weary and sleep-deprived at the time to really take much notice, but she recalled a few other things now, which didn't quite make sense but seemed to give her the impression there was something going on that Arnyn and Mourgan both knew about. And then there were those beans Mourgan had given her, and the things he'd said just before Arnyn came along.. something about someone who had infiltrated the rangers, and who wanted to harm them. Someone had harmed at least two already.. and it looked like Mourgan would have been killed too if he hadn't managed to trap her first. Cali could only conclude that either the Lieutenant was not as she appeared to be, or she had been posing all this time and was secretly the one who had infiltrated them.. either way, she chose Mourgan's side of this matter.

The other ranger hesitated a moment longer, considering what Cali had pointed out. She was relieved when he lowered his sword and nodded, then ran to look for the captain. Still standing back a little ways and keeping a seemingly safe distance, Cali let out a shaky breath and turned back to the other two, still quite baffled by it all. "Mourgan.. what's going on?"

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan w/ a tiger by the tail
& Cali
@Rillewen

Mourgan was hoping for some help but the person to answer his call was the last person he’d expect to see here and the last person he wanted here.

Relic could feel him tense behind her, she took it as a sign of concern. She could use that. He was relieved when the young Ranger took off to find the Captain but then Cali asked what was going on. He felt he should tell her all, there was no use hiding anything from her anymore. Ignorance could only get her killed at this point.

“This isn’t the Lieutenant Cali, it’s Relic. She killed them and tried to kill me too.” He only hoped she believed him. “Please Cali, you have to get out of here. I know it sounds unbelievable.” His vision once more went blurry and he blinked to clear it and made a point to tighten his grip since he felt his arms getting heavy. Relic smiled inside, the woman and all her talking was going to give her the time she needed for her poison to work. It was already effecting his grip on her but he’d quickly grabbed her tighter. It wouldn’t be long now she just needed a few more minutes.

“I must commend you on your blade work Smithy.” Fake Arnyn finally spoke up. “How will you feel knowing I killed this Alarion with your own handiwork?” She was trying to distract Cali as Mourgan called her. “Shut up!” Mourgan growled at her to which she only laughed.

Mourgan was starting to struggle. Between the heaviness in his arms and the blood on his hands he was losing his grip on Relic. “Go Cali. I can’t….much longer.” It was only his will to protect Cali that kept him hanging onto her and that was slipping out of his hands, literally.

“So sweet.” Relic mocked. “Just know, first I’m going to kill him and then little Smithy you will feel the bite of your own blade. Poetic don’t you think?” She quirked a brow at Cali. “Leave her alone.” He bit out between clenched teeth, her voice was wearing on him. She could feel him shaking, one of the side effects of the poison. She turned her head just enough to see what she could of him. His brow was sweaty. The corner of her lips curled up in amusement as she turned around.

“What’s so amusing?” He growled at her. “Your death of course.” Her matter of fact answer irritated him but he didn’t have long to think on it when she thrust her head back and cracked him in the mouth taking him by surprise.
He was stunned just enough by the hit that Relic took the opportunity to jerk her right hand loose, the one holding the dagger.

She turned on him and he found himself now on the defensive as she stabbed him in quick succession. She dug the blade deep into his left shoulder, then high on his left pectoral and then just above the clavical before he did the only thing he could think of and the only thing his body could do at this point. He lunged at her, tackling her to the floor. He put his full size into taking her down but who knew how long this could last.

[Rillewen]

@Isolde Alarion

Cali Dringolben - Armorsmith
Mess hall - during the fire

Cali blinked at what Mourgan said. Relic? She had no idea what that meant, and her expression probably announced as much. Was that a name? This woman sure looked like Arnyn, and it didn't make sense, but then she had observed that this person seemed different than what she'd believed Arnyn to be.. or maybe he was saying that Arnyn was actually an enemy who had deceived them all? Had she been acting all this time, or was this an impostor? It was confusing but Cali merely nodded slowly, deciding to trust Mourgan's word for it, at least until she had any reason to doubt him. "Well, then you'll need some help in restraining her." She decided, ignoring his plea for her to leave. The woman was struggling and it looked like he was having trouble hanging onto her. And..something in his voice made her concerned for him.

It was obvious something was wrong with him. He was looking ill, and rapidly seemed to be getting worse. Cali narrowed her eyes and frowned at the woman, annoyed by her taunting comments. But she didn't bother to reply because she knew that was exactly what it was meant to be; taunts. And her words only fueled a desire for Cali to help stop her. She shook her head at Mourgan as he begged her to go. They needed to get her bound before he lost his grip, and then she could check whether he was alright. "You won't be able to keep holding her on your own, and Ranger What's His Name hasn't returned with the Captain yet, so there's no way I'm leaving you to handle this alone." Taking a quick glance around the area around them, Cali saw nothing to use to help the situation. But she remembered the braided belt of cord she was wearing, under the leather apron that covered her dress. That would work perfectly. She started untying it from around her waist while moving closer to them.

And then... suddenly things went wrong. Very wrong. The woman broke free. Cali's eyes widened. She saw her moving, turning, and forgot about her belt. Cali lunged forward to close the distance between them without hesitating. But she wasn't quick enough. "NO!" She wasn't near enough to grab her arm, to stop her from stabbing him as she wanted to do. "HELP! Someone help!" She yelled as loud as she could, hoping to draw attention from anyone else that might be able to help. Cali's memory flashed to another ranger who had been stabbed to death. Her brother. She hadn't been there to do anything about his murder.. which still had never been solved. But maybe there was a chance to stop this one. Still, before Cali could get to them, they both fell to the ground, Mourgan doing his best to pin the woman, though from the looks of it he was struggling and looked as if he might pass out any second. Recalling his words about poison, she felt a dread that he might not survive this even if his wounds were treated in time.

Desperate to do something to help him, to at least distract the murderess from finishing him off, Cali grabbed the closest weapon to hand; salt from the barrels that had been dropped. With her hands full of the stuff, Cali flung both handfuls into the woman's face, knowing how intensely that would burn her eyes. Maybe that would blind her for a moment, if nothing else. As swiftly as she had emptied the salt from her hands, Cali made an attempt to grab the woman's right wrist, hoping to wrest the dagger away from her, or at least hinder her from using it on Mourgan again. All the while yelling for help, and hoping someone would come along soon to take over this fight, because Cali knew she was definitely not the best person to get involved in this fight... but for now she was the only person there to help.

[Arnyn]

Barracks
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

The knife hit Relic in the back of the shoulder. The right one - hopefully her main hand. The sorceress spun around. The hate in those amber eyes made Arnyn pause. So pure. One knife was pulled out while the woman handling it narrowed her eyes at the other, whowidened them while readying a new knife of her own, preparing for whatever was to come. They were close. Not close enough to reach out and grab each other, but close enough so that it would only take a few steps to close the gap. Both blades were flung. One neutralized the other.

Arnyn bent down to retrieve them, noting the blood on one of them. There wouldn't have been time for poison - and even as the thought flicked through her mind she returned the two knives to her belt. Pele came up behind her. The Lieutenant halted her Captain. For just a moment. "Calm, Pele," Arnyn warned. "She's not going anywhere. Together, remember?" The two officers made their way down, in pursuit of their quarry, halting at the lowest roof to look where Relic was going.

For a while, they did not see anything. When they did, they did not see Amber. Instead, they saw... Arnyn raised her eyebrows. Herself?

Next to her, Pele looked from the Arnyn on the ground to the Arnyn beside her. "Relic," the Captain spoke in a near hiss, before jumping down to the ground almost perilously and dashing after her enemy. Arnyn would have cursed if she were the type to do so, as worry for her friend gripped her heart. Would Pele be able to keep her head cool in a confrontation with this sorceress? The Lieutenant doubted it very much. And hot heads tended to get hurt faster than cool ones.

She followed Pele, swift and quiet, coming up at her heels as a young ranger, sword out, nearly ran into them. "Captain!" he breathed in relief upon seeing Pele, although confusion took over instantly when he saw Arnyn. "Lieu... Lieutenant? But you're in there!"

Arnyn grabbed Pele's arm to keep her from running off instantly (if that was what Pele might be thinking). It might anger Pele that Arnyn would do this, but they needed to - stay - calm. "And what am I doing in there?" Arnyn simply asked the ranger.

He blinked at her and then seemed to jolt out of a little haze. "You're being restrained by ranger Mourgan, sir... ma'am..."

"Where exactly?" She had to work to keep her voice calm, but she managed somehow.

"Um... But... The mess..."

Arnyn let go of Pele at the same time they both started off toward the mess. Their urgency was giving them wings.
"Keep people away from the mess!" Arnyn yelled over her shoulder. They didn't need anyone else in their as potential victims, and if Relic kept Arnyn's form then they might get confused to boot. At least Arnyn had told many of the Rangers what was going on by now, and the young man they left behind, baffled, was working through his confusion and putting two and two together - finally. "The sorceress," he mumbled with some understanding. He paled before heading off after the two officers. He would do his best to keep others from going down into the cellar. It had been the real Lieutenant's command, after all, and the Captain had heard it and had not countermanded it.

Arnyn could hear laughter coming from the mess as she and Pele closed in. Her own laughter. A chill ran down Arnyn's spine. She wanted to tell Pele again to stay calm and keep her head about her, but there was only so many times you could say something before it lost all its meaning.

When they entered the mess hall, Arnyn took in the scene in front of them with a quick sweep of her dark eyes. Mourgan was lying down... Cali was next to him, kneeling, holding onto the hand of... Arnyn. Not-Arnyn. Underneath Mourgan, who was struggling to keep her down. It was jarring to see herself yards away, but what jarred the Lieutenant much more were the bodies of two rangers, surrounded by their own blood.

"No..." Arnyn whispered sadly, taking a step toward them already after the initial shock of seeing their bodies and blood on the floor of the mess hall. "Danthor! Minluzir!" Their lives appeared lost, completely lost, and yet her first instinct was to go check on them. Even if by some miracle they, or just one of them, still drew breath... Her gaze returned to Mourgan, afraid what state he was in if his comrades were already lost.

Then she realized that Not-Arnyn was still holding that dagger. A, highly likely, poisoned dagger. She wanted to yell at Cali to stay away from it, but then the dagger might hurt Mourgan. Arnyn gritted her teeth and ran for the three people still drawing breath, even as she felt Pele next to her moving forward at the same time.

"Hold her hand, Cali!" Arnyn ordered the smith, contrary to her first instinct. "Don't let go!"

Arnyn unfurled the light summer cloak from around her neck - where she had left it after using it earlier to guard her against the smoke - as she moved towards the three on the floor. She twisted it around and around and slid down near her mirror image's head, who was squeezing her eyes shut against white grains of.. salt?... all over her face.

The Lieutenant planned on wrapping the cloak around Not-Arnyn's neck and pulling it back, hard. Cali had one of her hands, after all, Mourgan was still pinning her down. "Mourgan, any wounds?" Arnyn asked him, not looking at him but at her-not-self as she tried to wrap the cloak around that neck. There was blood all over him, that was clear even without giving him a good look, but whose was it?

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Cali Dringolben - Armorsmith
Mess hall - during the fire

The situation was feeling more and more dire to Cali. Mourgan was bleeding badly, but she couldn’t do anything about it without letting go of this woman who was intent on killing him. And he might die if she couldn't do something soon! But yet, it was his weight pinning the enemy down which prevented her from killing Cali... quite a quandary. Neither could do much without the woman getting free of their grip. And Mourgan wouldn't last much longer without help. She feared he was too far gone already.

Suddenly a new voice startled her. Cali already had been doing her best to prevent the woman.. whom Mourgan called Relic.. from doing anything else with that dagger. Looking up, she was startled to see another Arnyn coming toward them. Cali was struggling not to panic, her eyes were brimming with tears. They widened upon seeing the lieutenant, but she quickly realized that this had to be the true Arnyn. She was acting just as Cali would expect her to, based on the couple of times she'd spoken with her.

"He's been stabbed.. three times.." She answered for Mourgan hastily, desperate to get him help as soon as possible. Her voice was shaky from near-panic. "I think there's poison..." Despite how much she wanted to help him, she felt helpless to do so with her hands full with trying to hold the dagger away from him. "I have some of those beans in my pocket.. but.. I can't.." Unable to finish the sentence, she nodded toward Relic's arm, indicating that she couldn't get the beans to Mourgan without letting go. "He needs help, quickly, or.." Cali stopped, unwilling to think of that possibility. "Please.. help him if you can.. please.. please don't let him die too.." She whispered shakily, fighting back tears.

[Arnyn]

Barracks
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

"He's been stabbed.. three times.."

The words were chilling. According to Pele, the poison worked fast. Mourgan was a big man, though, and that had probably helped.

The analysis went swiftly. They needed to keep Relic restrained, Cali safe and help Mourgan. But Pele and Arnyn were only two people. Cali would have to help, despite the risk to herself. And as for focusing on Mourgan or on Relic, that was not even a question. Mourgan should be their priority. Keeping their own alive should always be the priority. It was decided.

"Keep her hand down, Cali!" Arnyn told the smith in a determined voice.

She looked up at Pele. "Pele! Mourgan needs your help!" Thus the Lieutenant implored her friend and Captain, hoping Pele would choose life and healing, not death and revenge.

[Pele Alarion]

Captain Pele Alarion
Hunting through the Barracks
@Isolde Alarion , @Arnyn , @Rillewen

The brief exchange of knife throwing on the roof caused Pele to hold her breath for a moment, but at least there was no harm done. However, it was more than clear that Relic would not stop now. There was one single purpose in Pele's mind now. Catch her. Catch her before it was too late.

The longer the whole pursuit took, the more Pele found Arnyn's constant reminders to stay calm annoying, and when her friend took a hold of her arm to keep her from following up on the information provided by the flustered Ranger who had nearly run them through with his sword, she tried to pull her arm away impatiently. It did not give her instant freedom to run off, and she had enough presence of mind not to put up a scene, and instead did her best to focus on what she was hearing. "Mourgan? In there? With her?" she muttered, and finding herself released, ran for the mess hall barely aware of Arnyn next to her.

Once they were through the door, Pele quickly assessed the situation and counted the losses. Her guard killed. Two Rangers severely wounded, or dead. Mourgan... stabbed? With a poisoned knife? These losses together with all the pain she herself had endured caused Pele's anger to boil over. In one fluid motion she unsheathed her dagger and took a couple heavy steps to stand over the people now huddled on the floor. If Mourgan would not block her target... The Captain's eyes glared with unbridled fury. She could just push him off, and it would only take one well aimed stab into Relic's chest to pay her for all the pain, to get rid of her forever. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the hilt of the dagger much more than necessary.

Yet, Arnyn's words finally filtered through and reached the depths of her heart. For a few heartbeats she locked eyes with her friend, took a deep breath in, and then slowly released it while looking at the whole scene from a different view. Darkness had passed, and the healer in her had won.

"Cali. Listen to the Lieutenant and do exactly what she tells you!" she spoke to the distressed smith with new determination. Just as smoothly as the dagger had been retrieved, it now slid back into its sheath, as Pele reached for the small pouch at her belt and quickly stepped over Mourgan to kneel on the opposite side from where Cali was. Turning his head towards her she saw that the poison was taking him over, and quickly popped the three retrieved beans into his mouth. "Mourgan! Take these and chew them up well before swallowing. Do you hear me?" she urged him.

This would take care of the poison, but then there were the stab wounds, and it would not do to counter the poison and yet have him die due to blood loss.

"Arnyn, I'll need to move him to get to the wounds. Can you handle Relic without his added weight on her?"

[Arnyn]

Barracks
@Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Rillewen


Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen

Hope. Hope paid off.

Despite the tension of the situation, the adrenaline coursing through Arnyn's veins, the difficult and precarious situation they were in and whatever might still befall them in the moments to come - Arnyn's relief at Pele's decision was enormous. This was it. Pele had won. Whatever Relic had done to her, whatever emotional and mental scars the sorceress had successfully branded Pele with... Relic had not managed to change who Pele was. At her core, Pele was a healer. A protector of life. Not an avenger.

Pele had given priority to Mourgan's life. Even when faced with a chance at revenge at the one person who had hurt her the most in this world.

And for that, Arnyn would be grateful forever. This proved more than anything that Pele would make it out of this. The scars would heal. She was still her own self.

It was not all the Lieutenant was grateful for. Mourgan had been stabbed three times, Cali had said. Sure, Arnyn was well versed at first aid, but Pele was Mourgan's best chance all the same. Mourgan had to live. They could not lose another... The Lieutenant's eyes swept past the bodies of Minluzir and Danthor again, although she could not spare them more than a split second at present. Meanwhile Pele fed the beans to Mourgan. Arnyn was glad to see Pele was giving him all three right away. She would have done the same.

"Yes, go - go!" Arnyn said without hesitation at the Captain's question. She had no idea what Relic.. Not-Arnyn... might have up her sleeve the moment Mourgan's weight stopped pinning her down. The Lieutenant shifted around, ready to put her own weight on Relic in a tight hold the moment Pele managed to move Mourgan.

Cali had momentarily blinded the sorceress. Relic's dagger hand was pinned. Arnyn was good at groundwork, holds and submissions. She could handle this, as long as Relic didn't throw any sorcery at her. Still, she was glad for the leather layers she was wearing. At the very least it made her easily discernable from the Not-Arnyn.

Seeing an opponent with her own face and body was still beyond the bizarre - but at least it wasn't making Arnyn freeze. Ever since she'd learned about Relic impersonating Trastion, she'd tried to mentally prepare for running into Relic, disguised as anyone. Even as Arnyn herself. That helped, now.