Rangers (RPG) Chapter 1: A Growing Threat

[Arnyn]

Kaylin

Arinelle wasn't too keen on the whole... reorganization, let's say - that much was clear to Kaylin as she listened to her friend talk about the letter that was left at her sister's, Laurenel. The way Ari reacted to Arothir, made Kaylin laugh. Oh, how she had missed Ari's presence... A feeling of bubbly excitement whelled up inside of her again as she considered a number of the people in this new Ranger unit. Arinelle, Zev, Mourgan - they might be up for some mischief now and again, if they had stayed true to their nature over time... and Pele could be swayed as well now and again, Kaylin knew. Things were looking well.

The ride to the ship was quick. Before Kaylin good and well knew it, she'd left Cocoa well situated and found herself above deck with the others. The Lieutenant's orders made her wonder for a moment whether the command had done their homework before inviting their 'select group of soldiers', but remembering the many meetings at the Ranger Headquarters, she realized there might be more to it than digging up their most recent service records... Her own record should be representative, yes, but not everyone's would be... She nodded slowly. She would play along without any sass, then.

Ari was quick to take matters into her hands. She wrote down her own information, and probably had already written down Turin's as well. Arinelle was a gem: she was a lot of fun, but had a drive for efficiency that Kaylin sometimes ought to strive for a bit more.

"Well," Kaylin said when Arinelle stopped scratching the quill on the parchment, "under my main weapon you can put shortsword and shield for this mission." The shield wasn't traditionally seen as a weapon, she supposed, but whenever she brought a shortsword and a shield, as she had today, she used them in tandem.

"Secondary weapon..." For a moment, her voice trailed away, in doubt. She had brought a good number of small weapons, so a common denominator would have to do. "... knives. As for healing skills, just basic first aid I'm afraid." She wasn't afraid at all, really, but that wasn't the point. "Some scouting, but I'd say next to no tracking."

Admitting her lack of skills in the last two departments didn't give her pause, concern or shame. Kaylin knew she was more of a weapons specialist. Her years of training had gone to all kinds of swords, the bow and the spear - mastering those was plenty. Not to mention her (albeit brief) training in the arts of deception and interrogation... but that wasn't common knowledge, per se.

"Come on, Arothir and Mourgan!" she spurred on the other two. "Our squad is well under way to being the first to deliver on the Lieutenant's orders!"
Leave it to Kaylin to turn something into a game.

[Isolde Alarion]

Mourgan

They were soon assembled and there was no time wasted in setting off. Although the trip wasn't overly long he used the time to get to know Krow. He liked the horse and found that dispite his size he was smooth and easy to ride. A horse one could spend some time on. He was thankful for that and when they reached the boat he made sure to to see to it that Krow was well cared for. Unsaddled and a quick brush with a handful of straw made his coat shine and when he offered some hay it was received with enthusiasm. Mourgan smiled and pat him on the forehead. After filling his water bucket he gathered some of his own things and headed above deck.

It was a little crazy with everyone finding their groups but they were soon ordered to set their skills to paper. He thought about it a moment as Kaylin told Arinelle her skills. When Kaylin finished and encouraged him forward he nodded. "Well, I don't want to be the reason we're not." He smiled at Kaylin and looked at the quill in Arinelles hand while addressing her.
"Main weapon would be the long sword and I'd have to say my second would be..." he had to think. "bow and for skills I would say basic healing and first aid. Scouted a little, I was just learning before...well, before I left." Looking at what she was writing he didn't seem to have much going on but he figured he knew enough to keep himself alive in a fight, at least so far." Thank you Arinelle." He finished and moved back to let Arothir have a go.

[Eriol]

"Only the medium-sized stones you should keep for practice, son," Berenwas saying to Unalmis, Addhor's boy, who her father referred to as Nal casually, as he taught him how to use a Rhûnian sling. Beren had been raised in Gondor, born and bred, but he acted more like the cattlemen of Bree, Rohirric peasants, and men of the Ithilien backwoods he frequenty associated with than he did a civilized Gondorian. Beren had a son, Mourgan Camlost, who he never had met which was why he finally returned to Gondor. Not having met him, he did meet Addhor's boy and had taking an instant liking to him, deciding to take the youth under his wing. "You may not believe it, kid, but this primitive weapon is powerful in capable hands. I saw one fella bring down a giant of the Misty Mountains with this thing once-" Beren halted his lecture, noticing Aileen waving at him from the porch of the blue and white cottage, petting a lamb which had been darting across the plank floor lost from its mother. Beren put the sling back on the pouch of his belt and motioned for Unalmis to follow him across the farm's lush fertile earth until they reached one of many paved lanes crossing the arable land. This path lead to the wraparound deck of the snug Pelennor home by a silvery rill meandering through the long windblown grass from the highlands down to the Anduin.

"My parents are fortunate Lark Town wasn't attacked when the War of the Ring came to the fields but my aunt and uncle needed to rebuild." Beren looked at him, nodding. "Irin Lirulin, Lark Town in Sindarin." He pointed skyward, tracing his finger through the warm air sweetly redolent of violets to follow the graceful flight of the Pelennor town's symbolic bird. It was melodiously singing, taking wing over the Camlosts' rich pastureland and orchards, a white-edged tail gleaming in the brilliant sun. Beren had always felt at peace here.


"Hey, sweetheart!" hailed Beren happily and drew an arm around Unalmis with a proud paternal ease, a lopsided grin forming on his lips. "Have you met Unalmis yet? He's my new pal, honey."

"You have introduced Unalmis to me twice now, Pa," Aileen informed him, letting the lamb down. She giggled, shakings the hand of Unalmis again. She was a tall as Beren and shapely as her late Umbarian mother. Her flowing luxuriant curls tumbled beyond the curves of her waist, black as a raven's wing. She had changed out of the green velvet gown which Nariel made for her when Aileen lived in Mel Lóna, one of the Wethrin Isles; now she wore a black cotehardie embellished with silver embroidery which Beren had bought for her in the White City market. "If you come over to hear my father's thrilling stories more often, I'm sure we'll no doubt become better acquainted." She embraced Beren and kissed his scruffy cheek. "You have mail, Pa." She touched one of two scrolls atop a glass table beside a rocking chair imported from Archet. "You have a lebethron farm buyer who wants to sell you his place-"

"Varda's stars!" Beren exclaimed. He twirled his daughter then clapped Unalmis on the back. Beren believed owning a business might be an impressive way of wooing Nelladel Alarion, his old flame and the mother of his son. Beren had approached an old lebethron farmer who was selling his supply company in the rose valley of Imloth Melui in Lossarnach; it sold the glistening dark wood to carpenters, the general public, and lords. The money Beren earned with the mines Hadron Mordagnir permitted him to keep on Mel Lóna had made all the difference in the sale.

"This however might be more important news," Aileen observed gravely, handing Beren the other sealed missive.

Beren drew in a sharp intake of breath, standing rigidly, as he read the announcement aloud, glancing at Unalmis. "Special Instructions: To the Receiver of this Missive, you have been selected to join the Rangers of Gondor. Your service records denote that your training and capabilities are of the quality necessary to join the Rangers of Gondor. Furthermore the High Command has noted your service, determining that you will be an asset to the Rangers. This option is entirely voluntary, but should you be interested in joining the Rangers, that option is available to you, one of the select few chosen to serve the Kingdom. Should you decide to join, you will find the necessary information inclosed.”

Beren lowered the letter and gazed at the Anduin solemnly, remembering swimming it during his training with Udan long ago. Memories of fighting Umbarians and Haradrim, Orcs and bandits flickered through his mind's eyes in vivid detail. His strong hand trembled as he recalled his Ranger of the North kinsman, Khallador Galerida, laying mortally wounded in Beren's sore armored arms as they lifted their faces. A giant lightning-crowned cloud stretched out a vast threatening hand toward Elessar's army before a mighty wind blown the fell spirit of Sauron away.

"I swore to never raise a sword again, my dear," Beren uttered, a lone tear rolling over his strong stubbled jaw.

"This world still needs its old guard, Pa." Willowy Aileen, still shorter than Beren, stood on tip-toe to kiss her father's brow. "Your fighting days aren't finished quite yet." Her voice was quieter now, knowing Khallador's death was still a sensitive subject to speak of. "I Never met Uncle Kal but I'm sure he'd want you to protect the Reunited Realm he died to reforge, Pa," Aileen supposed shyly but relaxed when Beren's thumb gently swept over her high cheekbones.

"If I fight, what about the lebethron farm?" Beren asked, beginning to consider the idea. He trusted his daughter and there was a piece of him that wanted to cling to his heroic past, ensuring Elessar's fragile kingdom would survive its birth pains.

"Whenever you can't be in the valley, I'll look after the business," Aileen said with confidence, touching her father's broad shoulder. He had come to trust her with management of the mines on Mel Lóna. She would be a capable superviser of the lebethron acres he was buying. "Your men have come to know me and respect me and listen to their beloved Miss Aileen." Beren's parents didn't mind parting with a few of their hired hands to work their son's farm and they were willing, perhaps more for sweet and lovely Aileen who they wanted to follow as persistently as the Edain guided west by Arien in olden days.

"I didn't expect to leave you so soon, sweet pea," said Beren, wavering and speaking a little stiffly, slightly embarrased in front of Unalmis who knew by now why Beren had been missing for as long as he'd been alive. "I wanted to reconnect with Veowyn and find Nella-"

"I'll find Veowyn and let her know you want to make amends but you're the one who needs to apologize, of course, for all the years of silence," Aileen assured her father and tenderly rubbed one of his muscled arms. He must look worse than he felt. Beren had come back a few years ago but he dragged his feet in guilt and fear, afraid tha Nelladel and Mourgan would hate him. Moriel had made him realized how much he loved the woman he left behind then came the war and dealing with the misery of Khallador's passing. "Don't worry. The way you've talked her up, I'm sure she still loves you. We make mistakes but but we can atone for them, I've come to learn. It's not too late for you to make a change. From what we've heard, my brother needs his father right now. And if you hurry, he can meet you today...."

"I'll be back, doll," he swore to Aileen as he held her in a long, fierce embrace. He pressed his lips firmly against her forehead as a summer breeze gusted through the blue and white poppies nestling the cozy Camlost cottage. Minutes later, putting on his gambeson, Beren decided to honor Khallador's sacrifce in the only way that mattered...being worthy of it.

*

"I must know your opinion of me, Nal, I'm sure you must have heard all kinds of rumors," Beren remarked, loudly raising his voice above the rushing noise of Anduin's rolling sun-dappled waters. Beren and Unalmis had unfurled the black sails of his thirty-foot yacht, Alquamórë, the Dark Swan, emblazoned with Gondor's White Tree and a cabossed bear's head. The sleek vessel was a class forty of the Elluin Line of yachts constructed for pleasure, cruising, and racing in Gondor. The boat was crafted of lebethron and its ebony hull gleamed like shining galvorn. They had ridden their horses from the Pelennor Fields to the haven of Harlond where Beren had the Dark Swan docked and got their mounts stabled in the hold inside the boat. Even now, Brenna, Beren's black mare, was neighing stubbornly to be on solid ground.

"I grew up on a farm in Pelennor, that much is true, but let's discuss some of the many detestable lies about my adventures. I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me, mate. I'm not as roguish as you've been encouraged to believe." Beren eased the wheel, gliding the boat to port, smoothly avoiding a merchant ship coming from the southern fiefs. "I did not kill an Elf and take his sword-" Beren guided the Dark Swan with practiced ease that comes with decades of mastering a boat and nodded at the hilt of his double-edged longsword he girded on the belt of his gambeson. The ancient weapon was held in a Northern Dúnedain scabbard of strange black metal bejewelled with flaming gems. Below the fair Oiolairë hardwood handle was a pommel resembling two claws clasping a disc featuring a bear's paw print. "I found this sword in an old Arnorian mine with my kinsman, Khallador Galerida, lieutenant of Osdolen outpost. The scabbard is made of Angalómë Nightiron, a metal which is only found in one cave of the Weather Hills. Kal and I had to battle trolls so the Rangers would have the mine for themselsves. I killed two of them singlehandedly, a feat I wouldn't have accomplished without Kamion's training. That's right, the esteemed son of Darellon, Nal! One of the finest swordsmen of Gondor taught me how to wield a blade and well. Do you think a talented, respectable soldier like that would hang around a blackguard like I'm reputed to be? Mithrandir's beard!" Beren gave Nal a lopsided grin.

"Yes, I left my girl because I was afraid of marriage and was too ashamed of returning for years," Beren admitted suddenly stoical, bringing the Dark Swan softly to starboard, relaxing his hold on the wheel, to allow a school of laughing river dolphins ahead then he resumed his swift pace. "I was not idle however. I fought Umbarian invaders of House Gameela and collected jewels, chiefly colored diamonds, tourmalines of all hues, and lodes of rare periodot. My son has a grand inheritance waiting for him when I pass on if, I hope, he accepts my generosity." Beren winked at Nal, his dark hair blown astir in the briny air. "Yes, I won this ship in a card game of Gondorian Whirlwind but I didn't cheat the sailor for it. I won the Dark Swan fair and square, son. The Harlond harbourmaster claims I had a card up my sleeve but that King of Bells of the major suit was in my hand the whole time, bud. You've got my word on that."

Once Beren had the Dark Swan berthed at the Pelargir quay, he and Unalmis rode their horses down the gangplank a few harbor prepared for them. Suddenly a small, excited crowd of dockhand lads began circling Beren, asking him all sort of questions like if he really had adventures with King Elessar in the wilds of Eriador. When the assembly dispersed, Beren turned to Unalmis and smiled like a returning hero who just recieved his lordship.

1. Ranger Beren Camlost
2. Primary Weapon: Longsword
3. Secondary weapon: Sling
4.Healing Skills: Sufficient
5. Scouting / Tracking: Legendary

[Ercassie]

Ilisys Azrubêl

‘This is Ilisys’. Pele had explained, as much as could be explained of the stranger to Red, and the woman in question glanced from the one Ranger to the other, watching the exchange without interrupting more than a smile. Until finally “It is, is it not ?” she agreed with the man, that it was nice, and that she agreed with Pele about who she was. “And there I did not think that you would admit to anything,” the woman of Dol Amroth complimented her old friend kindly. But they were due still more company it seemed, just as at least one other was already come upon their small gathering. “Apparently,” Ilisys repeated of Karis, approvingly. “Ziran .. I like it,” she decided to noone in particular; assuming that they might all come to be friends.

She liked the prospect of sailing also; it was something of familiar despite the new situation and she had no doubts of her horse’s ease below. The notion of boobytrapping Kaylin’s horse quarters would have to wait though until she had identified Kaylin’s horse, so until then there was the summons to deck. The woman of Dol Amroth had never governed a ship herself, but she had sailed countless times and found her way about with ease. As before, the same two earlybirds of her group were already gathered together and the Lieutenant’s request was in motion. There was no sign of the Commander, Isys noted, coming up behind Pele and Red to join them.

“That is me,” she pointed to where Pele had already listed her name on the parchment. “Primary,” .. she exhibited the spear which she of course had kept to hand. Whereas “Secondary ..” Ilisys retrieved the pair of knives from about her belt and brandished them in a dangerous manner, before stowing them again in safety. The blades were both long and hardy but overall flexible, not in form, but in function. Priorities at home were placed on cavalry and melee, but she had of course partaken of some mandatory archery to defend her estate from Corsairs. There had also been much time dedicated to falconry also and a merlin could and had been employed with a similar accuracy to a bow or other ‘ranged’ weapon. She had brought neither a bow or bird of prey to this adventure, sure that either knives or at need her spear could be a peril from some distance. Multifunction was the word of the day, and her competency was stronger in the arms which she had selected anyway.

Healing though, her finger drew across the word and stalled as she observed Pele’s finger. Ilisys had assisted of course and attended to some basic injuries in the field. Training maladies mostly, or during a competition, that she or her squire had endured and learnt to handle on their own, for the sake of dismissing swooning chaperones. Where it came to recognising herbs though she could not have claimed great confidence. She did her best with what she could find available and nobody had died as yet. “Occasional” she shrugged, as a dictation for their scribe.

And finally, scouting and tracking .. the question took her back to hunting parties, meaning hunting animals, not Orcs. Or was there a difference ? For certain this venture would tell. But long journeys also, between tournaments, had sometimes even required surviving outside of a long series of inns, where shooting or trapping a rabbit might soothe a grumbling stomach under a starry canopy for the night. Seeking them out was thus not just a needless recreation. And where it came to scouting, .. well, she did have previous in sneaking around a hostile city, tailing those who did not know they were under observation, observing the body language of fastidious nobles at a ball, and implementing subtle gestures with an elegant hand fan, to communicate with her mother, or friends .. there were arts that existed within the ornate halls and grand parties of Dol Amroth which she deemed might not be useless in more rural climates.

“Some” she concluded, with a nod. Her experiences might be altered slightly from the Forests which she assumed most Rangers here were accustomed to. But who knew what they would be actually facing, and there was no harm in spreading the diversity of skills their company all brought together as a whole. Nor was she afraid to learn and adopt new wonders from her talented new comrades in arms.

[Burnt Toast]

Zev grinned widely at Arnyn’s compliment about his earrings. “Thanks! I like yours, too.” He gave his head a shake, and the gold loops clinked together. “I’ve missed them. I also heard we’ll be on the water soon. Isn’t that excellent?”

Another Ranger joined them then, and introduced herself as Durien. Morwen was glad of any distraction from Kamion, and quickly shook the offered hand. “Morwen,” she said, offering her hand in return. Zev leaped forward to introduce himself, and started into a spirited tale about battle on the high seas that he had probably made up. She tuned him out, trying to subtly watch Kamion.

When the announcement came about groups, he nodded at Morwen, “Well, looks like we’re being separated; I’ll catch you later, Mor!” And took off. Morwen was tempted to roll her eyes at him, but she was too busy schooling her face to stillness in front of Kamion. He hadn’t said much, and thankfully it seemed that they were all being sorted into groups. She gave him a simple nod, and tried to walk away at an even pace. It took everything in her to stop herself from dashing away around the corner and out of his sight.

***

Morwen saw most of her group had gathered by the time she joined them, and said, “Morwen,” as she moved to stand near them. She gave a curt nod to Pele. It looked like they were stuck together for the time being. She didn’t want to speak to her now, and luckily a welcome interruption was provided by the orders to move out. She mounted smoothly, and imagined Zev was having a less than pleasant time with his horse. It turned out she didn’t need to imagine it, since she could hear him shouting for Apple to calm down. No doubt the horse was standing as calmly as ever, and waiting for his rider to chill out.

***

When they arrived at the ship, it was Morwen’s turn to be uncomfortable. She had never liked ships, or water, and especially not the two combined. She focused on Andreth, and getting the bay settled. Her stomach still seemed to be cooperating when she made her way up to the main deck, where they were being asked to list out their skills. Pele had taken point for their group, and she was asking if they would like her to write for them. Red and Ilisys had taken her up on it, but Morwen moved forward and took down her own information without another word. Part of this was due to her ongoing frustration at Pele. Another part of this was that she was barely keeping her food down, and they hadn’t even set sail yet.


1. Ranger Morwen Daegomir
2. Primary: Longsword
3. Secondary: Bow
4. Healing: Intermediate (She had Pele and her time making amends in the Houses of Healing to thank for that. She pushed the thought away.)
5. Scouting/Tracking: Minimal

This done, she left the group, though whether out of a desire to get space from Pele or a place to vomit was anyone’s best guess.

***

Zev was ecstatic to be back on a ship again. But he contained his excitement for now. First he had to deal with his demon horse. Apple looked at him and snorted, and he flinched. Yes. This horse was certainly out to get him. Nonetheless, he had to make sure the creature was stabled and cared for. He did this as quickly as he could, then headed to the main deck where the groups were being asked to list their names and a list of other information for each member.

“I’ll start!” He volunteered, and leaped forward to scrawl his information, barely legibly, on the parchment. He was writing so enthusiastically that a few scratches in, he broke the quill tip, and ink splattered up into his face. Swiftly drawing a knife, he sliced the tip to shape it again, and went back to writing.

1.Name: Zevarion Grey
2. Primary: sword and dagger
3. Secondary: Throwing knives
4. Healing: Basic
5. Scouting and Tracking: Proficient

“All right, who’s next?” He asked, looking around for his group. Wait, they were here, right? Ah, well. He had more important things to do. Like climbing the rigging!

He set the quill back down, and headed off in search of mischief. There would be plenty of time for seriousness later.

[Moriel]

“I suppose that’s me!” Kamion said in response to Zev’s questioning of who would be next, and he stepped forward to take the quill from the ink-splattered young man.

Back at the stables, Morwen’s response to his attempt at levity made it clear that she did not wish to discuss their previous meeting, so he had instead introduced himself to Arnyn and grasped her proffered arm, and the same to Durien as the black haired woman arrived to join them. He had been about to make some admiring comment about her horse, when Captain Amathen spoke up, announcing their departure. Kamion nodded in acknowledgement of Thûllir’s introduction as he listened. Before they knew it, they were mounted up and riding out from the city. Faran put on his usual display of ill-temperedness, but at the same time threw his legs out and pranced outrageously, as he always did when Kamion rode out with a group. “You fool,” the Dúnadan muttered affectionately, rubbing the gelding’s heavy neck. Faran flicked his ears, as if to say he hadn’t the faintest idea what his master was talking about.

Once at Harlond, Kamion let Faran onto the ship as swiftly as possible, hoping the horse might not realize where they were going as it had been some time since their last adventure at sea. But the ugly bay was not to be fooled, and Kamion’s left buttock still smarted where he had received a hearty nip when he gathered with the rest of his squad to hear Lieutenant Macardil speak. Taking up the quill, he wrote below Zev’s spattered scratches, in a strong, unruly hand:

Ranger Kamion
Longsword
Dagger, bow when needed
Basic healing, competent in emergencies when no healer is available
Expert scout and tracker

Kamion’s brow furrowed slightly as he wrote the last line. He hated saying things that felt like bragging, but it was also only right to tell the truth. He looked up from the page, glancing to his fellow rangers who had not yet listed their skills (Arnyn, Durien, Thûllir). “Next? I am happy to scribe and deliver our notes.”

[Arnyn]

Watching the people in her squad more than the others for now, as she wanted to get to know the people who'd have her back and whose back she would have in turn, Arnyn surmized that as much as Zev looked to be a fan of water, he was afraid of horses and riding. Arnyn watched him with an easy smile as he made a fuss around his horse. He'd be a good addition; an excellent reminder of why they were all here and what they were protecting.

It was Zev who jumped forward as the first person in their squad to write down their information. When the quill tip broke, Arnyn almost laughed - not to mock him, but purely because it was such a funny sight - however, Zev fixed the quill so quickly that her laugh manifested itself in a faint smile and a twinkle in the eye, instead.
Once Kamion had also stepped forward, the man lingered at the barrel and offered to write for the rest of their squad, as well. Thoughtfully, Arnyn looped her golden braid through a ring made with her thumb and index finger. She nodded and stepped forward.

"I'll go next and gladly accept your offer, Kamion. My primary weapon is a longsword, my secondary would be a shortbow." There was no need to list back-ups like her throwing knives and her dagger - that hadn't been the question. "Basic healing, advanced scouting and tracking." Her eyes fell on the wording used by Zev and Kamion, and she smiled. "Somewhere in between the two of you, I'd say."

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

When Red agreed for her to write down his info, Pele swiftly did so, making sure her handwriting was very clear and readable and that the ink drops did not fall anywhere.

"Sure," she replied to him with a smile. "You can do the message-delivering part if you rather would." She was not about to rob him of the opportunity, and liked the idea of cooperation even in such a simple task as this.

Ilysis was ready to provide - or rather obviously show - her details next. Pele raised an eyebrow at the rather warrior-like display of knives, and would have wielded the quill as a defensive weapon, if she were in a mood for silly, but now only a raised eye-brow had to do. Besides, she was not about to spoil the neat parchment with blots of ink which would fly everywhere, should she enact that fleeting idea that passed her mind.

She had just finished writing down Ilysis' information, when Morwen approached. Pele willingly gave up the quill for the woman to write, and did not break the wordless moment, though she looked after Morwen with concern. She thought the woman did not look that well, but perhaps it was only sea-sickness, though they had not left the port just yet.

"Karis?" Pele then asked, retrieving the quill and prepared to either write or hand it over, as needed.

[Arothir]

Arothir joined the others on the ship, having listened quietly began listening, though grinning at Kaylin's enthusiasm. He then comments, "My name is Ranger Arothir Angranc. My own primary weapon is the spear, my secondary is the sword." He had to think a bit on those, "Though I grant that I am a bit torn on them. Used the spear about as often as the sword in my career, just have to make a call here." He then ponders a little and says, "For healing I know basic healing, but that is about it, I can bind wounds, apply a tourniquet, but I cannot set a broken bone or deal with poison." The ranger thinks a little more and says, "But for tracking and woodcraft I know a little more, but it is more focused on working in the mountains. Scouting is not my strongest suit," he looks at his larger frame, "I am not the most subtle in that regard, but my eyes are good and I can hopefully be of use in such a capacity if needed."

[Arnyn]

"Excellent!" Kaylin exclaimed, clapping her hands. Everyone in their squad had told Arinelle what the Lieutenant wanted to know, and Kaylin was eager to usher her friend off into Macardil's direction. "Best if you do the honors, Ari. You wrote it all down, after all!"

Looking for something to do, she spotted one white-haired Zev wandering off. Kaylin patted her chin, thinking as she watched. She wanted to follow him - she thought he might prove good fun on a ship, based on what she already knew of him. Then again, the Lieutenant must have divided them for a reason, and Zev wasn't in her squad. Her nose scrunched up a little in dislike. Rules were troublesome to begin with, especially so if she didn't see any need for them. She wasn't sure whether the Lieutenant intended them to stay in their squads at the moment, but suppose he did - then what would be the point?

It wasn't like they were exploring terrain, or fighting or doing anything soldiery or rangery at the moment, right? What use were squads on a ship?

No no, the Lieutenant must not have meant the squads to carry much importance already. Kaylin poked Ari as she passed her. "If you're in for a little fun, come find me!"
Then she hurried after Zev, giving him a mischievous grin once she caught up with him. "So," she said. "What are we up to?"

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr

It didn’t take long for them all to be on the road south from the city once the Commander appeared, as he had just mounted and led off. Thûllir was quick to follow suit and fall in with the column as they made their way down to Harlond. It was a pleasant enough day, and a nice change of pace to be riding this stretch instead of running or walking it. It also gave a little time for him and Bregil to get to know one another. There were only a few attempts at bouncing side steps before that understanding was reached, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm with the rest.
In Harlond the task of boarding the ship with their horses and settling them in the stables went swiftly for some and a bit longer for others. Bregil had taken a bit of time to settle down, but Thûllir had still been able to reach the deck in time to hear the Lieutenant’s instructions. As one given to quiet spaces, the lean Ranger let others take the initiative in taking up quill and ink. He listened with interest to Arnyn’s description of her skills, being the one he knew least about, and watched Kamion’s scribing. Although his own writing was often neatly elegant, a skill his father had insisted on, Thûllir did not mind at all that another was doing the writing.

When Arnyn finished speaking, he cleared his throat lightly. “I suppose I will go next, and am happy for you to do the honors as scribe. My primary weapon is the longbow, although I can use other bows almost equally well.” He touched the pommel of the short sword that peeked over his shoulder. “My secondary is generally my sword for close combat, although I also carry other blades.” Thûllir paused a moment so that the information could be taken down before continuing. “I am proficient in field medicine, although my herb lore is somewhat limited. I am also very proficient in scouting and tracking, as those were my main tasks in Ithilien.” Nodding to indicate his thanks to Kamion, he glanced around to see what the others were up to, and whether the sailors needed any assistance. He was not an expert at sailing, but had learned to work the rigging on a few other voyages.


Karis Ziranphel

Ziran smiled quietly at Pele and gently took the quill and parchment. “Thank you Pele, but I am fine writing. It is not a skill I have used as often of late, and I best not grow rusty.” The details were simple when she bent to the task, and it didn’t take her long to write. Not much had changed over the years in that department.

Ranger Karis Ziranphel
Primary weapon: Longbow
Secondary weapon: Shortsword
Healing skills: Some field medicine.
Scouting and Tracking: Trained as a scout, decent tracker.

Lifting the quill again from the parchment, Ziran looked it over. Not elegant, but neat all the same. She blew on the ink to dry it, and then returned the quill to its stand on the barrel, and the short list of details to Red. “Thank you both. I think I will be going to find some place to sit and enjoy this short cruise now that the Lieutenant is done with us. We likely won’t have such moments of peace again in the near future.”

[Durien]

Durien smiled and greeted each one in turn as the others in her group introduced themselves. The one called Zev launched into a story and Durien listened carefully, although, being a lady of few words, she didn't say much in return. About the time he finished, Commander Amathen appeared and immediately all the rangers gathered rode out. With her lower legs, Durien gently guided Théa into the file, in the last two-thirds of the procession. She wanted to test the young mare's ability to ride in the middle of a pack. With her long legs and longer strides, she wondered if they would spend most of the deployment trying not to ride up on the horse in front of them. She was pleased when the smoke gray mare with black points simply altered her stride and fell into place without any ado. It didn't take long for her rider to realize the mare was both extremely intelligent and very willing to go along with whatever her rider needed. Eru forbid they ever disagreed on a course of action though, Durien thought to herself as they rode along. The ride to Harlond was fairly quick and relatively uneventful, and she enjoyed it. Often, she wandered the far reaches of Middle Earth alone, and it was nice to have the company, although she was silent the whole ride.

Immediately upon boarding, each ranger took care of his or her own horse, and she was no exception. She settled Théa into the makeshift stall below deck. Tossing a good amount of hay in, Durien paused, considered, and added some more. She wasn't sure how well the mare traveled on water, and she didn't want to give her any grain, when the stress and strain of adapting to the rolling ship could cause her to colic. She also didn't want to waste any hay, but it was always difficult to keep weight on horses during any campaign, as it was difficult to bring large quantities of the heavy feed needed to sustain a horse in work, and the continuous movement of the rangers would make it difficult for the mare to get the necessary nutrition from grazing, as they wouldn't be stopped long enough for the mare to both rest and take in sufficient calories. Therefore, she need to get the mare to eat as much as she could, as safely as she could, while they still had the opportunity. She would also need to frequently check the mare's water buckets, as the rolling of the ships could cause spillage of buckets filled too far, but the mare would drain them quickly as she consumed the hay.

Before rejoining her group, Durien took the time to clean her tack thoroughly. Although it hadn't been a far ride, and she had carefully worked conditioner into the leather until it shone before they left, she was in the habit of always wiping down the leather after every ride. She also took the time to check her girth and saddle pad for any dirt or debris. It wouldn't do to make the mare sore this early into the trip. Or at any time during the trip, she thought as she tucked everything carefully away. Checking on the mare one last time and giving her a final scratch behind the ears, Durien made her way up to the deck. Breathing in deeply, she sighed, an almost wistful note echoing through her heart. She loved to sail, whether rivers, lakes or oceans. Not as much as her grandfather, but still more than most. He had spent long stretches of time at sea, and she had taken to it as though born to it. Like so many things, her time with him had been ripped from her without much warning, and since then, she sailed only occasionally. It made her feel both sad and loved to be on the water; like wandering through the empty home where one once grew up, the memories of family tugging at the heart, creating both joy and sorrow in equal measure. She blinked her emerald eyes as if to recover her inner balance and strode off in search of her group.

Durien found Kamion at work writing down the information their Lieutenant required. Arnyn was giving him her information. She waited until the woman was finished, then spoke up. "Thank you for offering to scribe for us all". She smiled at him. "Would you please add my information as well?" She gave him the following information slowly, giving him time to write as she spoke.

Ranger Durien
Primary Weapon: Bow
Secondary Weapon: Long Knives
Healing: Proficient; has experience as a healer in the Houses of Healing
Scouting/Tracking: Very adept at scouting, moderately skilled at tracking.

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta of Minas Tirith

The Fields of the Pelennor sprawled about the feet of the White city, a mismatched quilt of colour ranging from the prolific farmsteads to the abundant orchards. Unalmis had always felt a sense of great euphoria, escaping through the Great Gate into the wide world beyond. It was sobering to muse that where he stood now, struck by sunlight, blood had spilt and lives had been lost. Long enough ago that the telltale signs were begun to fade, but not so long ago that the memories were like to. The people he had spoken with today wore the stamps of their experience across their faces. Efforts to track down a man whose business could aide his father’s, and vice versa had been relentlessly hampered by the well-meaning reunions stirred up in meeting so many old friends. And speaking of old friends .. The young man had not expected Beren Camlost of all people, to answer the door ! The Veteran might as well have been the legend of that name from the first age, sweeping in his young guest and painting him an account of all the adventures and all the exciting life he had led. Soon Nal had plain forgot why he’d come calling at all until finally his host received a pair of letters. The first recalled Unalmis to what he had been about before his father’s old friend had distracted him. The lebethron. The second recalled another mission, something else he had forgotten as it turned out.

As Beren read the contents of the King’s decree aloud, Nal recalled receiving just such a letter himself. Not that he had the likes of his new friend’s storied experience to justify it, but still he had undergone enough training by the cusp of the war, that he had been entrusted with many varied and random tasks at need during the dark days which had followed. Safeguarding the women, children and infirm on their venture safely from the city was but one of those and it was not exactly what he had prepared for, but he had been glad to play his part and it seemed that word had carried. Either that or this was now a ruse to get him to return the sword which he still carried, which he’d signed out from the armoury .. But no, Beren too had been summoned. When his new friend reached what Nal believed to be the end of the invitation, the veteran found a second piece of paper, one which Unalmis must have missed in his own version of the same correspondence. It outlined where and when anyone with mind and heart to step up should enlist. And they were already late !


At Pelargir, upon the Docks, awaiting the Rangers Group arrival

The entire journey and, even now, it’s culmination at the docks felt as though a blurried tapestry which sailed past him and could not be properly blamed on seasickness. The young man was not so fond of sailing these days as he had once imagined he would be. But there had been no hesitation in Camlost’s obtaining them horses, and the use of a boat, which of course he also owned. Nal had been reintroduced to riding messages as they hastened toward the HQ and learnt where they might convene with the group already left. Throwing those things closest to hand in a bag might not be conducive to good planning, but he had always been instructed to not rely too much on what you could lose. He did often lose things after all. It was more about what you could make use of from what you found at hand. Rangers were prepared but they were not packhorses, his father had always said.

The scorrred bone-handle of his knife was ever close to hand where it hung like a comfort from the young man’s belt. It was in fact his father’s belt, his father’s knife. The rest of his get up was though his, apart from the short sword which officially was army property. His brown leather armour rested easy over an olive green shirt, betraying his initial desire to join the Rangers of Ithilien, following the footsteps of his forefathers. His strides were darker brown, drenching into the darker still boots which he had worn in all too well. All supplied by the military, now that he thought about it. It was about time he offered something back. The crossbow was not quite standard equipment, and old. Very old. Unalmis had been gifted it during his unconventional introduction to service, by another veteran who could no longer grasp the bolts with trembling fingers. The weapon still worked, and it's grateful inheritor hoped he would be allowed to bear it, or that some replacement might be offered, were he not. That said, he would be lucky not to face a lecture for failing to report on time ! He was very glad that he would not be the only one. And with such an accomplice as he had, how could their arrival possibly be viewed with anything but a smile.

Brown eyes watched the fanbase even now mobbing Beren and he shook his dark head. He had not been able to get much of a word in, as Beren coloured their journey with further entertaining confessions. He had laughed a plenty though, and arrived in high spirits, keen for opportunity to see the legends of Gondor firsthand, and he amongst them ! Finally.



Ranger Unalmis Raxelilta
Primary Weapon : Shortsword
Secondary Weapon : Crossbow
Healing : Elementary
Scouting/Tracking : Elementary.

[Galastel]

Arinelle

Arinelle wrote, and made mental notes. Turin was a swordsman like her. Kaylin, her friend, an expert with all kinds of blades. Mourgan, again sword and bow. Finally polite Arothir turned out to be as good with a spear as he was with a sword, if not better. That was useful - good to have a variety of skills in the squad. Not one of them much of a healer or a tracker though. That - less good. Lieutenant Macardil would perhaps do some switching around to have squads that are more balanced, maybe once they reached the fort - they weren't going to separate or to see combat before that anyway. Or perhaps not, if he didn't think it was necessary. Still useful to know their strengths and weaknesses as a team.

Kaylin hurried off after a white-haired man with large golden earrings (Zev). The earrings attracted Arinelle's attention earlier, when they all gathered in the stables - such adornments were not uncommon among men of the sea, but few landlubber guys wore them. She caught that thought, and all but laughed at herself - 'landlubbers', indeed. Her own feet have hardly left the shore for years now.
She did not know the man, but Kaylin plainly did. And judging by her reaction, he was up to no good. Arinelle's eyes twinkled. She was definitely in for a little fun. "Catch up with you in a moment." She handed the info sheet to the Lieutenant, asked him if there'd be anything else, sir - that was what one had to do, Arinelle was a soldier after all; and then she was free.

Kaylin with her bright red hair, and the earring-guy with his white were easy to find. "Permission to join mischief?" she asked with a grin. "Name's Arin," she extended her hand to Zev.

[Almarëa Mordollwen]

Jaena
Linhir, Dor-en-Ernil

Jaena was mucking out a stall when the letter arrived; she very much doubted the messenger was impressed with either her attire or her smell. Nonetheless, she thanked him for delivering it, and tried not to smudge dirt all over the paper. A few moments later, she took it inside and put it down, before washing up and sitting down to read it over properly.

She was not entirely surprised by the contents. The Dark Lord might have been defeated, but somewhere in the back of her mind she had always believed the shadow would return, in some form. Living in peace for the rest of her life had seemed implausible, almost unimaginable to one who had grown up constantly moving and constantly on guard. She had been raised in Arnor, amongst the Dúnedain; both of her parents had been Rangers, and she still carried her father's blade. But she had come south during the War of the Ring, and had essentially never left.

After the march on the Black Gate, Jaena had moved to Pelargir, and served with the Gondorian army for a time, before coming to the quick conclusion that big cities did not suit her. She had considered returning north, but the leader she had always served was now on a throne in Minas Tirith, not in Eriador, and so for a while she had found herself at loose ends. What do you do as a warrior, when there is no longer a war to fight? Linhir was beautiful, and smaller, and nestled close enough to both the sea and the mountains that it did not feel as oppressive or cramped as the larger cities. (Minas Tirith was beautiful too, but it was big, and for someone used to wandering the trackless paths of wild and rugged wastelands, Minas Tirith and Pelargir were both occasionally overwhelming.) So she had taken work where she could find it (she was good with horses, after all, and she could write, and take notes, and keep books) and wondered what she ought to do with her life. Most women her age were married and tending to children; Jaena had emphatically never wanted that sort of life for herself. But she had not yet managed to work out what she did want.

So when the letter arrived, she did not hesitate. If Gondor called once again for aid, she would answer. It took a few days to sort out her affairs in Linhir, and then she headed east, along the road that lead back to Pelargir. She would meet the Company there.

Pelargir, near the Docks
Several days later

She had travelled light, and her horse was swift; it had not taken her long to reach the great port city. As she rode up to the docks, she could see a few others gathered around, and soon spied Beren Camlost – technically a very distant relation, although she would not say she knew him well. She raised an eyebrow at the excited crowd gathered around him, and steered well clear. Looking about the docks, she spotted a young man (Unalmis), well-armoured and wearing a green shirt reminiscent of the Rangers of Ithilien, and armed with a short sword.

She headed over, and held out a hand. "Hello, I'm Jaena. Are you here to join the new Rangers as well?"

_________________
Jaena (Jay to her friends)
Primary weapon: Longsword
Secondary weapon: Bow
Healing skills: Elementary (basic first aid only)
Scouting and Tracking: Advanced (highly skilled)

[Burnt Toast]

Zev was wandering the decks, eyeing the rigging, and pondering what Morwen’s deal was with Kamion when a voice startled him. It was Kaylin, asking what he was up to. Correction, she said we, implying heavily that she was in for whatever mischief he had come up with.

‘Well,” he began, gesturing to the glorious ropes that made up the massive layers of rigging on the ship, “I was about to go for a climb. But it works best unencumbered.” He quickly began shedding extra layers, first boots and socks, then rolling up his pant legs, and then began pulling his tunic off, revealing the sinuous tattoos that spread across his back and chest, and all the way down his arms.

He was halfway out of his tunic, with the fabric still wrapped around his head, when he heard someone introducing themselves. “Ah, Arin,” he began, his voice muffled inside the shirt, and bent at the torso, so he could bring his arm down (since they were still trapped above his head in the tunic), to shake her hand, “Great to meet you! I’m Zev.”

He finally managed to pull the shirt off the rest of the way, and tossed it aside. He cut quite a strange sight, his gold loops glinting in his ears, barefoot, tattooed, and green eyes twinkling with excitement.

“And you never need permission to join mischief.” He winked, then launched himself at the rigging, scrambling up the first half a dozen feet, clearly in his element. “Well, are you two coming?”

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr

“Why bless me da’s beard it is you! And a Ranger to boot if you are with this lot.” The gruff voice emanated from a wizened sailor of indeterminate years who had paused his rope coiling to peer at Thûllir closely. “So you weren’t lyin’.” Thûllir’s attention was drawn away from the rigging, and he laughed when he heard the man’s words. “No, I wasn’t lying. Good to see you Aeth.” He had met the sailor several years before when traveling to Linhir on a different ship, and had seen him a few times since, but as sailors were want, ribbing of friends and acquaintances was part of the package. They had taught him to sail after he had proven he could run the rigging almost as fast as the best of them, and amused them by learning how to use the lines to drop to the deck.

Aethel thrust his bearded chin at the taut ropes that Thûllir had been inspecting. “Still remember how to climb forest-boy?” At the flat look and raised eyebrow in response, he continued. “I bet the cook that I could get at least one of you to touch the pennant, and he bet me nay. If I win I get an extra cup of grog. If no one takes the challenge I have to help with dishes and no grog to wash down the ‘tack.” He looked at Thûllir hopefully. “I’ll split the grog with you? Whadda ya say?”

About to shake his head in denial, Thûllir caught sight of the small group by the other rail getting ready to climb themselves. Might as well if others were also going to be on the rigging. He looked up again to make sure there was nothing in progress that a run to the top pendant would interfere with, and then looked back at Aethel. “I don’t need your grog, but I understand wanting to get out of dish duty. I can use a good stretch anyway. It’s a deal.” At Aethel’s hiss of glee, Thûllir’s eyes lit with a smile, and he clasped the man’s scarred hand.
He double checked that the bow was strapped securely and the cover loop on his quiver was secure, and then hopped up to the rail on the windward side of the main mast. “Touch the pennant you said?” “Aye.” “Better go call the cook to witness then.”

The pennant cracked in the breeze almost tauntingly as Thûllir started off slowly at first and then picked up speed as his hands and feet remembered the feel of the strong ropes. Hands move thus. Shift the weight thus to stay with the movement of the ship; angle the boot thus to not slip. It came back rapidly, and he didn’t look down as he gained height, pausing only to shift past the different spars and crosstrees, until he gained the shrouds below the royal yard. There the easy ropes ran out, and his experience shimming up trees stood him in good stead climbing the last distance to the top of the mast, where he could hook his arm around the lifts and stand secure despite the sway of the ship as he reached fingers up to touch the black and silver pennant that flew there.

A dip and jerk of the vessel as it hit a rough spot in the current gave him a moment, but he returned his hand to the lift in time to catch himself, and then gave a wave down to Aethel far below. Mission accomplished for his friend. Now to get back down. Going up was always easier than down in many ways. It was tempting to slide down one of the stays, but that was a good way to burn his hands when he wasn't used to it, and he figured such a display would not go over well. This wasn’t a race, so he made his way down much more slowly than he had gained the top, and finally looked around at the scenery sliding by and the other figures on the rigging.

[Arnyn]

It was kind of funny to see how her voice surprised Zev and made him jump the tiniest bit - as if someone had caught him doing something wrong, when he had simply been looking around. He'd probably been planning mischief and was reacting to that beforehand. Kaylin grinned at him.

Go for a climb? Up there? She blinked at the ropes, the doubt evident on her face. She knew it could be done, of course, it's just that she'd never done so herself. Meanwhile, Zev was kicking off his boots and removing his socks. Kaylin couldn't help but frown a little when she saw he started pulling off his shirt, too. All of this prep... Thûllir could do it with all of that on.

Speaking of, when her eyes darted around, she couldn't spot him anywhere on deck. Maybe he'd gone back below to find his hor-- She chuckled when she spotted her Ranger already up high in the rigging, closer to where the others were all still clustered around the Lieutenant and the barrels. It was as if Thûllir had heard her thoughts and had been trying to prove her true. Her grin returned as she watched him, but her attention was diverted when Ari joined Zev and her and introduced herself. Kaylin laughed out loud at the way Zev shook her friend's hand. She was glad Arinelle had decided to join them. They would make an interesting threesome, Kaylin thought.

When the removal of Zev's shirt showcased a plethora of tattoos, Kaylin nodded in understanding and rolled her eyes at the same time. THAT was probably why he wanted to get rid of the clothing. A bit of showcasing, hm?
At his invitation, Kaylin looked at Arinelle with a shrug and a grin. "Definitely, right?" She tried her hand (and feet) at climbing another rope. She managed to climb to the same height Zev was at, although it ook her more time and care. "But I for one will be giving it a go with my shirt ON..."

[Galastel]

Arinelle

Without his shirt, Zev looked good. Elaborate tattoos over rippling muscles - Arinelle gave him an unashamed appreciative look. And more than ever she wondered if he'd been at sea before. The tattoos, the ease with which he moved in the rigging - they were what she would have expected from a seaman. Even stripping down to the barest minimum - clothes that could get caught in the rigging were a bad idea, and as for shoes - sailors often walked barefoot on board. The last had as much to do with leather soles being slippery on a wet deck, as with the very particular smell wet shoes tended to develop after a while, and the actual danger of wet feet stuck inside wet boots for prolonged periods of time. Following Kaylin's gaze, Arinelle caught sight of Thullir also climbing the rigging, in full gear. That one - not a seaman. The weather was clear though, and the boat wasn't exactly a seagoing carrack. He wasn't putting himself in excessive danger.

Kaylin grinned at Arinelle: "Definitely, right?"
"You have to ask?" Arinelle grinned back, pulling off her boots.
The shrouds felt comfortable and familiar in her hands, her feet were steady on the ratlines. She climbed easily. "You thinking of manning the yards?" she called to Zev. She definitely wanted to - to stand up there, feel the wind, see the distant horizon. She would have climbed on ahead, but they were high enough already that the shrouds were too near each other for her to comfortably pass Kaylin and Zev.
At the same time, she was a little worried about Kaylin. Of the three of them, Kaylin had the least experience with rigging, and Arinelle thought she had seen a look of apprehension on her friend's face before they began the climb. She knew too how peer pressure could push one out of one's comfort zone. That could have dangerous consequences. There was nothing she could say, not in front of Zev, but she kept her eyes open, and purposely stayed on Kaylin's side of the shrouds. That way, if they did go for the yards, she'd be closer to the footropes, leading the way if Kaylin let her, and getting farther from the mast. The shrouds - these were easy to climb. Passing from the shrouds to the footropes or other parts of the rigging required some skill. And working on the yards - you'd better have a good head for heights.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shrouds - the fixed lines that hold the mast up from side to side.
Ratlines - thin lines strung between the shrouds to form a ladder.
Yards - the spars on the mast from which the sails are set. The footrope, formerly named the horse, is what one stands on while setting or stowing the sails. 'Manning the yards' means for men to spread along the yard (standing on the footropes), normally used as a way of rendering honours.
Nerd - that would be me.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

With Karis choosing to write down her own details, Pele considered her task done: at any rate everyone had written or stated their information, and Red had volunteered to bring it to Lieutenant for their group. It also seemed that nothing else was required of them, and some people had already gone off, in search of on-board adventure or anything else.

Pele lingered for a while, trying to decide between the habit she had formed lately of isolating herself from everyone and the desire to reconnect with some of the comrades and friends. She missed friendships and meaningful interactions sorely, and yet the habit of self-imposed solitude was still very strong, and she gave in to it, without a word to anyone making her way back under the deck where the horses were stationed. She had not properly taken care of her mount, had she?

And there was her four-legged companion for this journey, standing calmly and munching on some hay. "Here, Autumn," Pele said, fishing out of her pack another apple, cutting it in half and sharing one with the horse. She herself took a good bite of the other half of the fruit, as she looked for the set of a few horse care items she had borrowed from the stables.

Unfolding the cloth which contained curry comb, soft brush, mane comb and hoof pick, the Ranger picked up the curry comb and with small circular motions began to work her way down the horse's neck. At any rate, Pele now felt that she had found a good reason for spending at least some more time with the horse instead of joining any story-telling activities, jokes and such.

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta,
at Pelargir.


The air was charged and the atmosphere about the dock felt something like a storm already broken. Folk amassed in every direction, as though unseen paths or the instinct of practice led them where they needed to go. Unalmis did his best to avoid being buffeted about by the waves of people, but he was neither tall enough or holding of enough importance to insist they mind him. He did harbour hopes for a short time that the horse would serve him as some anchor at least but ‘Brown’, as he was apparently dubbed, was no more familiar with Unalmis than any other face close by, and oft looked toward ranging if the young man did not halt him. The entire experience felt akin to being pulled by undercurrents, whilst clinging desperately to a wayward raft. A brief notion took him to the height of resuming his ride, and he gained a better view then, safe from being crushed. From even this vantage, the thick of the crowds still seemed entirely endless and diverse, save for any clear quota of Rangers. Their little party had either arrived early, or utterly too late.

None of this seemed to have fazed Beren, who was yet bolstering his courage courtesy of loud support from strangers. Not for the first time that day his young companion put thought to whether the Veteran had sought to accomplish quite so much, and was adamant that folk were aware of it, all because he was in fact quite nervous, that his absence must, MUST, be justified to the only opinions that it seemed Camlost truly cared for. Unalmis was aware that he had been but a rehearsal to the intended audience, as were all, but a most attentive ear was the only payment he could offer for the passage that his new friend had generously allowed. That debt paid, the young man found it calmer on the borders of the throng, and had no qualms about leaving his friend to his showcase. It would have been greedy to hog the celebrity's attention after all, when he was so in demand !

Finding his own feet down to the street once more, now that it was safe to do so, Nal was pondering if there might even be time to find a nice inn and cool drink. That was when a woman chanced close by him, seeming just as level headed as he had never managed himself. Besides escorting a horse of her own, the newcomer was possibly the only other person there who wasn’t gathered to hear Beren’s tales. Which intrigued him. Possibly of course, she had adventures of her own that satisfied her zeal, and naturally intrigued his.

“Glad to meet you Jaena,” the young man accepted her hand with a firm shake, before returning it politely. “I am late, I mean, I’m Nal. And, yes.” He wondered how she had known, before he realised, belatedly, .. the sword, the armour. The horse even .. For sure he did not resemble a sailor. The fact of being recognised as a Ranger was new and encouraged an easy smile. “It is all rather exciting, isn’t it ?” his tone betrayed an innocence that the second-hand sword and dust-ridden garb might have otherwise disguised with their experience, outweighing his own. ”For a moment I thought we had missed the boat, so to speak !” A careless glance back to check, hoped he was wrong. “Or do you think this is part of the task ? To track down the rest of the group ?” His laughter seemed sincere, although ended in some doubt that such a jest was in fact true.

[Oro]

Commander Amathen

After meeting at the dock, the troops had boarded a large river boat and had made the journey down to Pelargir. The trip went rather smoothly. Amathen had spent some time wandering the deck, keeping to himself. This was the most important phase for him to keep his hands out of the developing relationships. At first when a soldier joined a new squad, it was always difficult to mix personalities especially when these were soldiers who may or may not have emotional baggage coming along with them from previous wars. The Commander knew that he as well had lots of baggage, and that is why I found it so difficult to connect with those around him. Standing at the edge of the boat, he watched as the Lieutenant organized the Rangers and began to develop a working knowledge of their strengths. This was something they had discussed before the voyage, that Macardil would be the main face of the organization. He wanted to let the young Lieutenant stand out and make his own way in the corp.

Standing now on the edge of the bow of the ship, he looked out over the peaceful waters. There was much going on in his stormy mind, but the world around him was at peace. He had seen many things in his time serving Gondor, and he had promised himself that he would retire and end his career, but the King had personally requested his return and had promised that the forming of this Ranger corp would be his legacy, and that it was Amathen’s final duty to the crown to ensure that the organization functioned through at least its first campaign before he stepped down. He put his hand up to his mustache and stroked it gently at first, but as his mind stormed he yanked at is own hair. Shaking his head he turned back around to look at the rangers, learning each other and communicating.

A small man, long shaggy brown hair and a belly that came from too much beer approached the Commander, “Sir, the boat will be arriving the city within the hour”. “Thank you, Giron. And thank you for the hospitality.” He smiled at his old friend and then turned and stepped up to the rangers “Alright everyone.” He raised is hands for attention, “We arrive at Pelargir as dusk arrives. We have rooms in one of the old militia barracks and then we will ride at dawn.” He turned and looked at the approaching city, “We will ride half the distance to the fort the first night, camp for a night, and then finish the ride the next day. Our fort is located at the crossing of the Poros. Once there we will set up the fort as a headquarters for this campaign. The next day we begin scouting and intelligence gathering. Understood?”

Turning to his Lieutenant he spoke, “Let’s ensure everyone gets a good nights rest, there will not be much rest from now on out.”

The new Rangers of Gondor made their way swiftly to Pelargir by boat, and then on horseback over multiple days of travel, found their way to the Tri-Road Fort, an old defensive fortification at the meetings of the road from Pelargir, Harondor, and Ithilien. The Rangers approached and found that their new headquarters was a small stone fortress designed for a garrison of forty to fifty men, inside they found it to be sparsely decorated but serviceable with all the basic amenities that a militia would need. A small armory with basic blacksmithing capabilities, a large stable, and a large multi level barracks with sleeping quarters for all the rangers. The Lord of Pelargir had twelve men stationed here awaiting the arrival of the Rangers, basic cooks and stewards of the fortress, they had gone ahead of the Rangers and stocked the fortification with food and basic supplies. Amathen led the Rangers into the fortress and then released the soldiers to begin preparations for the campaign, tomorrow the real work would begin.

GM Notes:
Begin posting your arrival at the Headquarters for this campaign
Tonight you can either socialize, find something to fix up in the headquarters, feel free to be creative.
Sorry for my AFK, work has been busy (12-14 hour days, 1 night off a week, and I have been exhausted)

[Burnt Toast]

It didn’t go unnoticed to Zev that he was being checked out by Arin. He did an extra showy move as he began climbing again; since he was far ahead of them; he hooked his feet in, and released his hands, dangling upside down and calling down to the two following him, “Come on, slow pokes!” But as he did so, he noticed that Arin was staying near Kaylin, and that Kaylin was a bit hesitant on the ropes. Arin definitely seemed to know her way around, but he was suddenly a bit embarrassed he had let the sea air go to his head this way. Reaching below him, he grabbed hold of the ropes and unhooked his feet, letting them fall back below his hands, and landing another body length lower on the ropes, and near the other two.

“Sorry,” he began a bit sheepishly, “I let myself get carried away. I spent a lot of years on the ropes, but I shouldn’t have been so flippant. I just… I’ve missed this.”
In response to Arin’s question about manning the yards, he added, “Aye, it’s one of the best spots on a ship! You seem like you’ve spent a good deal of time on the water yourself.”

<> <> <>

Morwen had been utterly relieved to get off of the ship and onto horseback. She had managed to keep all of her food down on the water, but it had been a close call. It took her awhile to lose the pale green tinge, but after a few hours back on land, her stomach had settled. She kept thinking of seeking out Pele, but, well, her stomach had barely settled. She wasn’t ready to face that situation yet.

Zev was sad the moment they stepped off the ship. He had run about barefoot for the length of the voyage, and replaced his boots begrudgingly, though he left his shirt packed away. He could cling to the vestiges of the sea for a bit longer.

His horse, Apple, had other things in mind. Well, at least he thought the buckskin did. The creature was going to be the death of him, he was certain of it. He wanted to speak to Kamion on the road, but he was too busy concentrating on riding, which unfortunately was a skill that never seemed to sink in with him, no matter how often he did it. He felt like Morwen had looked on the ship a few hours back.

<> <>

Arriving at Campaign HQ

Zev was relieved when they arrived at the campaign headquarters, and took care to settle Apple in and brush him down, trying to make amends with the beast for his terrible riding. “Sorry about that. Thanks for not tossing me into some underbrush somewhere,” he murmured to the horse. He still wasn’t a fan, but at least he was starting to trust Apple a bit more, after a couple days of riding.

His next priority was finding Kamion. He wanted to get to the bottom of this odd business with Morwen. Giving Apple a wave goodbye, he meandered out to find him.

Galastel OOC: Thanks so much for posting that information! It was super useful. We'll have to take our two out on a ship sometime again.

[Turin Ringhûn]

After he'd given his skill overview, Turin watched as the rest of th squad did the same. It seemed they were fairly evenly matched with each other. Though Kaylin peaked his interest in the fact she used a shield. In his youth, he'd tried using one himself, but he felt too restricted in his own movement to continue to do so. So instead, he taught himself how to fight with either hand, and eventually to dual wield. Most of the squad used a sword like him. Though there was a spear user as well, technically he too used a spear, but his main was the spear. It looked like the group was primed for close combat.

Having previously been an officer, he stayed off to the side and contemplated how the groups were to be used. Thinking back to the original report they'd received, it seemed they would need to scout out the area, and when they've found the enemy confront them. Based on what he heard listening to the members of squad three, they didn't fit the bill of an all out scouting crew. So what would they be doing while one of the other groups were out scouting? It didn't make any sense. If it were up to him, he'd have already sent scouts out and then brought in the combat forces to review the report and go attack. But then again, he was not in charge. After what happened during his last mission, he didn't feel he deserved to be in a leadership position. At least, not until he proved himself worthy of such a position again.

While he stayed off to the side, he saw Kaylin run off to have some fun. A few other people joined in as well. Turin just shook his head. He just stayed where he was, off to the side of the group of people. He felt more at ease away from the middle of the group. That way he could keep an eye on his surroundings. He may not have kept up his tracking or scouting skills, but his decades of training as a swordsman who didn't use a shield, it was imperative to develop the ability to be aware of surroundings at all times. This point was driven in further in that last mission. But now was not the time to get paranoid. He just wanted to study everyone and see if he could better learn how he and his squad would work together.

Eventually they arrived in Pelargir. They'd taken the ship there. They then horseback for the rest of the way to the fort they were using as the headquarters for this mission. It was a small stone fortress fit for a good fifty or so men.

"Huh. Not bad." Turin said dismounting his horse. The fort was hardly decorated, but then again, it wasn't really needed. Decorations could be distracting from the purpose on hand. He led Canya to the stables and into a pen. He removed the saddle and other riding equipment, and began to rub the horse down.

"Yes sir. That's a good boy." he said brushing the sweaty black horse. "You get some rest, and enjoy this food." He spent the next near half hour pampering the horse then left the stables. It felt like a good time to survey his surroundings and get a lay of the land.

He could here grinding, and hammers and anvils, so he concluded a weapon and blacksmith was present. Of course there would be a kitchen to be able to feed the troops. He saw a few lights in what appeared to be the barracks. He stood outside the stables for several moments trying to decide where to head first. He was tired, and would loved to get some sleep, but ... He drew his longsword from his hip. He hadn't used Mela Mecalne in some time. The blued blade with his and his wife's names engraved on either side of the blade. He remembered getting it commissioned from some dwarves years prior. It had some nicks and could use a serious polishing and oiling.

With his mind made up, he made his way to the weaponsmith. The smiths appeared to be busy making and repairing weapons. Off to the corner was a polishing wheel that needed to be setup. "Can I get this setup for you guys?"

He only received a shrug. Taking that as not an order to refrain from the action, he approached and pulled the contraption out of the corner and made sure the gears were in working order. He used the pedal to get the wheel going and began to work.

[Arnyn]

When everyone had shared their skill sets, it sounded like the squad she was in was filled with skilled scouts and trackers. Zev might be able to learn another thing or two, but that was a good thing. Nothing like a campaign to learn new skills and consolidate them. Arnyn threw a suspicious look the Lieutenant's way. Had he estimated their skills based on the reports he'd gotten? It was clear that the speople in her squad would be used as the frontrunners, and there wasn't a golden hair on her head that doubted Macardil had planned it just so.

She watched Zev running off and boasting in front of Kaylin and Arinelle. They seemed to be the rambunctious threesome of the entire unit. Arnyn could see them pulling excellent barracks pranks. She might have to keep a close eye on them once they reached more permanent accommodations. She grinned as she remembered the prank wars, years ago. She'd led several hits on other wings then, perhaps surprising her division at the time. She'd made a serious officer when necessary, but she'd been able to let loose when possible. However, there was still a big difference between her and the three daredevils further down the deck. They were much more carefree than Arnyn would ever be. She might envy it, even, though she would never bedrudge them such a quality. Making sure as many people as possible maintained such qualities was the reason for her service to begin with.

Thûllir moved away as well, engaging in conversation with a sailor he seemed to know. It were the little things that gave it away; the look of recognition on the sailor's face, the easy laugh coming from the usually quiet Ranger. The bowman easily made his way up the rigging. Arnyn made a mental note: he made an excellent climber.

Kamion and Durien hung back, like Arnyn did. She quietly enjoyed their company as they settled into a companiable silence, with a few words spoken here and there, some smiles shared. She could see them working together well, sharing a similar wavelength and a likeminded temperament.

Her brown eyes looked for Pele when they were nearing Pelargir, but she didn't spot her firiend anywhere. Perhaps she'd gone below deck, but Arnyn thought it would be better to stay with Durien and Kamion for now, so she refrained from exploring. There would be more time to speak with Pele later.

***

Lieutenant Macardil

He gladly accepted the three lists from Arinelle, Red and Kamion, thanking each in turn as they came up to him. Studying the lists for a moment, he rubbed his chin. The squad he'd envisioned would make a good vanguard proved true enough, but it seemed that he had misjudged the third squad's skills a bit. He'd thought there would be at least someone with intermediate to advanced healing and also tracking skills in each squad, but that didn't prove to be the case.

Taking his time to ponder how he might rearrange the second and third squads, the Lieutenant stayed visible and near the Rangers on deck, with brief intermissions where he checked in on his bay. He saw four of the Rangers climbing the rigging, and grinned at their restlessness. Active. He liked that. "That bodes well," he mumbled under his breath.

At Commander Amathen's information, he nodded. "Understood, Commander." Since they were already out on a campaign, a salute was not necessary at this point.

At the harbor, three more interested parties joined them. Commander Amathen waved them along to the Lieutenant, so it was Macardil who welcomed Beren, Unalmis and Jaena.
"Welcome to all three of you. We're glad to have you. I will assign each of you to a squad on the road tomorrow, or at the latest when we arrive at our destination." He gave them a brief summary of what they had missed at headquarters (OOC: please check the first posts of the thread, if you haven't already) and asked for their weapons information, healing, tracking and scouting skills. That way he could ponder about the squads more with their latest additions in mind, as well.

Upon arriving at the militia barracks, he gave the Rangers their bunk assignments. The redhead, Kaylin, didn't seem overly pleased with the sleeping arrangements, and for a moment the Lieutenant thought she might even step up and voice whatever was bothering her, but she managed to hold back in the end. The Lieutenant was grateful; he didn't want to start the campaign on bad terms with any of them, but if Ranger Kaylin had protested, he probably would have had to assert his authority as second in command. Thankfully, the conflict hadn't presented itself.

The next day, they got an early start and made good time, yet they had to camp out in the open once before reaching the fort. The Lieutenant set out a four-point watch with shifts, allowing everyone to get enough sleep. While there should be little trouble in the area, he still didn't want to risk it. There was a reason they were here, after all. And situations could change quickly.

Their second day of traveling by horse was when they arrived at the fort at the crossing of the river Poros. Commander Amathen was the one who helped them get situated, and both Amathen and Macardil left the Rangers to figure out their own sleeping arrangements at the fort proper. This would be their base of operations for perhaps a while, so they wanted everyone to be content, and there weren't so many of them that they needed to be told exactly who would be sleeping where.

"Karis and Mourgan," the Lieutenant took them apart for a moment. "Given everyone's skill sets, I'm forced to make a change in the squad setup. I'm switching the two of you. That means that Karis will be joining Turin, Arinelle, Kaylin and Arothir - and Mourgan, you will be joining Pele, Red, Morwen and Ilisys. I hope neither of you already got to attached to your squad mates.If it is of a comfort, no squad will ever be permanent. Squad compositions might change still during this campaign as well, and surely will not be the same in the next." His blue eyes smiled, and he put a hand on each of their shoulders. "We have much need for flexibility. I am sure you two are capable of it." He removed his hands and nodded. "Dismissed. Send Jaena, Unalmis and Beren to me, please."

When the three latecomers reported to him, the Lieutenant wasted no time in assigning them.
"Jaena, you'll be part of the scouting squad, along with Kamion, Zev, Arnyn, Thûllir and Durien."
"Unalmis, you'll be assigned to the squad with Pele, Red, Morwen, Ilysis and Mourgan."
"Beren, you will join Turin, Arinelle, Kaylin, Arothir and Karis."

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan
Aboard Ship

Mourgan watched as Kaylin went off to find adventure. He smiled to himself remembering her antics. Someday he just might join her but for now he thought he would stay out of the main fray and he walked over the railing, content to watch as others approached the ship then came aboard. He leaned on the rail. It was an interesting mix of people that were joining them but it was the sudden squeeling of woman that caught his attention. For a moment he thought something was wrong but it didn't take long for him to realize there was a gathering of excited women and children. Such a thick gathering in fact he couldn't see who they were gathering around but the commotion held his attention for awhile.
The crowd was moving on so he turned and leaned his elbows on the railing. He wasn't sure how he would take to ship travel. He'd had very little of it and then only when he was young. He only hoped if it didn't agree with him he wouldn't disgrace himself like the poor folks that were already turning green. He grimaced and turned away from that unpleasent sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The journey down river went well for him. He spent his time visiting with a few but mainly keeping to himself and checking on Krow. The horse was taking it all in stride and eagerly ate the offered apples he gave him. When they docked it was once more a madhouse of activity but they were soon on their way and he enjoyed the time although at times it was hot and dusty.
That night he slept well and in the morning they were back in the saddle early till they reached the fort. Once more it was a beehive of activity and he seen to Krow. They were given sleeping arraingments but he was soon taken aside by the Lieutenant along with Karis. It seemed they were to be reassigned. He nodded his understanding. He didn't mind. The Lieutenant knew what was best for them so he took his reassignment in stride. "Yes Sir." When they were asked to send Jaena, Unalmis and Beren to him he nodded trying to remember their names since he'd never met either of them but it was the last name, Beren, that caused him to blink.
Was it the same Beren? His father? What were the chances? Of all the times to finally meet his father it had to be now? That was silly, it had to be a different Beren.
He nodded his understanding then looked at Karis. "If you'll round up Beren I'll find Unalmis and Jaena." Once agreed upon he set out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Although his brown eyes sought out what he thought his father would like he wasn't entirely sure of it. Asking around he found Jaena. "Excuse me, I'm Mourgan. If your Jaena the Lieutenant wishes to speak to you." He left her with a nod and continued looking for Unalmis. It was hard to find people you didn't know in such a crowd but with some asking around he was sure he had the right man. "Pardon me, are you Unalmis? If so the Lietenant wishes to see you." He motioned in the direction of where he'd left him. "I believe we'll be in the same group. " He offered his hand. "I'm Mourgan Alarion. Well met."

[Arnyn]

It seemed like she was out of her depth with these two! A wry grin made its way to Kaylin's face when she realized Arinelle was keeping an eye on her and probably climbing slowlier than she otherwise would have. The confrontation with her limits was sobering, but she loved her friend for wanting to look out for her.

At least Arinelle hadn't commented on it. When Zev dropped down a ways on the ropes and apologized for getting carried away, Kaylin knew it was only in reference to her, and she gritted her teeth. She knew he was probably sincerely sorry and the words were coming from a good place, but they still stung. Mentally she scolded herself for being prickly. She wasn't usually this short-tempered. When Zev and Arinelle got excited about the yards, she latched onto their excitement to help tone down her annoyance at her own ineptitude on the rigging. That worked, and she was able to let out a laugh. "Looks like I'm in the presence of two pseudosailors! I'm more of a swimmer than a seafarer myself!"

***

In Pelargir, three newscomers joined them. Kaylin greeted them with a smile and a little wave, but when the command told them they would all be staying in the militia barracks, she scowled. They were in the middle of a port town and their mission hadn't even really started - and they weren't allowed to choose an inn and pay for their own chambers? A displeased expression settled on her face and her emotional objections didn't dissipate in the barracks. As the Lieutenant was showing them their bunks, Kaylin debated talking to him on the matter, but when she played out the scene in her head, she cringed. Waywardness at this point couldn't lead to a constructive place, and it might ruin her professional relationship with the Lieutenant.
She couldn't ban her irked expression, but she managed to maintain her thoughts to herself at least. She shrugged at Thûllir when he gave her a questioning look. He should be able to figure out her qualms, and she wasn't about to talk about it in front of the others.

***

The next night, during her watch shift, she stared out into the darkness with a little frown. It was nice to be on a mission again, with familiar faces and even Thûllir - she had never set out on a campaign with him before. Together from start to finish, that is. So far, Kaylin found it both satisfying and difficult. She couldn't behave around him as she usually did. She wasn't sure where the lines were and when she'd cross them, so to be on the safe side she was probably erring on the side of caution. She wondered he was feeling about it, but relief from watch duty came quicklier than she'd have thought, and after a whole day on horseback it didn't take long at all to sink away into a deep sleep.

***

Once they had each taken care of their horses - stabling them, providing feed for them and brushing them down properly - the Rangers were "set loose", as Kaylin thought of it, at the fort. Only a few had to stay with the Lieutenant for a bit longer, which was fine by her!
Once the Commander was out of sight and the Lieutenant occupied himself with the Rangers he needed to talk to, she let out a relaxed sigh.

Putting her hands on her hips, she took a look around with an eager look in her grey-blue eyes. "Alright! Who wants to go exploring with me?!" It was always more fun doing things together.

[Burnt Toast]

Well, Zev still hadn’t caught sight of Kamion anywhere, and decided he was probably still setting up, or something. Morwen was likewise nowhere to be found, and he wondered for a moment if they were together somewhere. He laughed out loud at the thought. Not after the way she had reacted. Besides, she was probably still recovering from being seasick.

He didn’t see anyone near him; perhaps they were all settling into the barracks area and hunkering down after a long day of travel. He was about to give up on his plans for mischief when he caught sight of Kaylin. She was announcing her desire to go exploring. Zev didn’t need to be asked twice.

“I’m in!” He called out. “Wait for me!” And dashed over to her. “All right. Let’s do this.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, unable to shake Morwen’s odd behavior from his mind, “Hey, what do you know about that Ranger Kamion?” He asked.

[Lantaelen]

Abrazimir Dimaethor
Tri-Road Fort

The sweltering heat of South Ithilien was no less scathing upon his back as it had been upon his face as he rode in to the Fort assigned to the new Ranger corps. Though Abrazimir be equivalent in longitude to his own home at Lond Côl in Belfalas, it was remarkably much hotter upon this side of the Anduin. Wiping sweat from his brow, he presented his credentials to the gate guards who admitted him into the Fort proper, from which he was designated to report to Lieutenant Marcardil directly. Following a trail but a few hours fresh, he was late to joining with the others whom had already departed from Pelagir, coming down from the North. He was hard pressed to catch up, but motivated by the drive of duty and ambition for his new King.

Dismounting his horse, Bruidal, at the stables, he left the Dol Amrothian charger and inquired as to the direction of the Lieutenant’s headquarters. He did not feel too comfortable in his new Ranger attire. It was more sombre, less bright (though he understood it was necessary for concealment), and felt much more exposed than his old armour, now collecting dust upon his familial estate. His hair was knotted in a firm bun behind his head, though a few locks blew lazily in the breeze, often lapping at his face. His grey eyes took a moment to examine the hustle of the newly christened Ranger fortification. Were those familiar voices he heard? Like the corner of some dream, some memory summoned unbidden from the depths of his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he strode into the Fort headquarters to meet with the Lieutenant. It was only a small measure of anxiety that he hesitated. He thought he left war and battle behind, but upon receiving the missive of the King, he knew those violent tendencies had not forgotten him. He was here to serve, faithfully and obediently. He spotted the man who must evidently be the Lieutenant and felt another sting of anxiety at having to interrupt a man so embedded with important work in order for Abrazimir to give his report, but it must be done. When he spotted a moment, he approached the Lieutenant and offered up a salute, arm across his chest, fist over his heart.

”Sir, Abrazimir Dimaethor reporting for duty.” He declared and introduced himself. ”I was directed here by the Fort stewards. I apologize for my tardiness.” Next, he produced the scrolled missive that a messenger had deposited at his family home some days ago, proof that he was supposed to be here, if the Lieutenant needed to see it.

”I have my information transcribed here as well, Sir.” He added, producing another piece of parchment with his neat handwriting upon it. And then he stood back, in the position of attention, awaiting further orders and instructions.

Abrazimir Dimaethor,
Primary Weapon: Sword and shield.
Secondary Weapon: Armoured fists.
Healing: Elementary.
Scouting/Tracking: Elementary.

[Pele Alarion]

Ranger Pele Alarion

Their travel had been very well-organised and without any delays, mostly just allowing them enough time for sleep between various legs of travel. At any rate, they had gained a few more comrades in Pelargir, increasing their numbers and adding to their skills (or so it should be thought as it was unlikely that the commanders would have chosen people that still required basic training).

All throughout their travel towards the fort, Pele had maintained a friendly attitude towards the comrades and engaged in the necessary everyday interactions; however, she had avoided all deeper conversations, lest she be forced to explain some of her past experiences. She was not ready for such a thing, not yet.

Once at the fort, she made sure to settle in the horse first and provide for its needs, and then ventured in search of some corner that would be suitable for her own sleeping necessities. Setting down her belongings in an orderly manner, she then decided to take a look around the fort and become acquainted with its layout. There was not much to see though, very basic and yet sufficient accommodations, some protection - good enough for a mission they were on. Having made a round through the premises, she was about to return to the space she had selected for herself, when she caught sight of Arnyn.

For a while she held an internal debate of whether she should exchange a few words with her friend; who knew - there might not be time later when they set about accomplishing their respective tasks, especially since they were in different squads. Decision made, Pele followed her friend into the mess hall and kitchen area, though she was not that interested in food at the moment.

"Nyn," she called when she had caught up, a quiet smile settling on her face. "I doubt we will have much time to talk when the actual fulfillment of assignment starts, and it has really been a long time..."

[Moriel]

Kamion had finished noting down the others’ skills, and with a nod went to deliver them to the Lieutenant, in time to head Commander Amathen’s words about their impending arrival to Pelargir, and how the journey would proceed from there. And it had been just as he said- without incident, the company had arrived and disembarked at Perlargir. Without incident, that is, apart from Kamion spending much of his time belowdecks with the horses. As predicted, Faran had kicked up a terrible fuss, and one unsettled horse could upset the whole lot. It took all his skill (and no small amount of bribery, the gelding was going to get quite fat off treats if they weren’t careful) to keep Faran calm over the voyage. “You great fool,” Kamion muttered as he led the recalcitrant horse down the gangplank onto the docks below, “you’re going to get us reprimanded if you keep behaving like this. There, land, eh? Happy now?” Faran snorted and ignored him. The Dúnadan picked a final stray bit of hay from his own hair and flicked it into the water before mounting up with the rest.

Their travel on horseback was uninterrupted by any troubles, or an overburdened amount of rest. The stone garrison to which they arrived was plain but serviceable, a monument to the efficiency of those who had constructed it. The company had been large enough that as they swiftly traveled, Kamion had not yet had the opportunity to take time to converse with all those he wished- in particular the young Zev, and that rascal Beren. What was he doing this far south, in any case? He had taken a brief scout around the exterior of the fort, and so it was that he arrived at the stables after several of the others, and as they were leaving. ”Who wants to go exploring with me?” he heard in a voice he recognized as Kaylin’s, followed quickly by Zev’s: ”I’m in! The conversation continued, but Kamion was too far away now to hear what the young man said next- and after all, he still had Faran to take care of. The stalls were roomy and well kept, already laid with good beds of straw.

Kamion turned Faran into an empty stall near the center of the stables, farthest from the draft at either end. As he was preparing to enter, a newcomer came in (Abrazimir) came in, and he gave him a friendly nod. Kamion overheard the man asking another for directions to the Lieutenant- this must be another latecomer. It seemed that rangers were drifting in from all over the southern lands. He entered the stall after Faran, and untacked swiftly, setting both saddle and bridle on the stall door. Then, he set to the one activity that the ill-tempered horse would stand still for without persuasion: a good, thorough grooming after a long day’s ride. They hadn’t been pushed too hard, but it had still been a full day of travel, and the dirt and sweat of the road had built up on the gelding. Kamion’s firm, gentle hands worked the brushes over Faran’s coat, first in rough circles, then long, flicking strokes, the softer flicks with the fine brush, and then with pick and comb to sort the tangles out of mane and tail. And finally, with great care, he wove the upper part of Faran’s tail into a firm plait, bringing the rough mass under control. “There now,” he murmured, “that’s better, isn’t it?”

Faran snorted. Kamion laughed, and went to fetch hay, grain, and water. His horse thus supplied, the Dúnadan seated himself on a mounting block outside the stall door to clean his tack. Out came the cleaning kit from his saddlebag, and the familiar scents of saddlesoap and oil. It was a meditative task, and Kamion was scarcely aware of the time that passed as he worked. His thoughts wandered in man directions, none of which he invested in particularly much. This night was the calm before whatever storm they were headed into, and a clear head would be essential.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr

It seemed a dream in many ways, to be not just in the same organization but the same unit as his wife. Thûllir found himself letting his gaze stray to her in idle moments to reassure himself that it was real, and a faint smile settled on his lips when he caught himself doing so again at the fort as she headed off to explore. The two days of travel and many miles were helping him adjust so that her presence was not a distraction when he needed to focus, but the change was so pronounced that it had taken that time. While it was true that he was following the call of the King in joining this group, so often before the call of service to the kingdom had required weeks and months of separation far from Kaylin, where either he or she headed into danger. They had only rarely served in some proximity to each other, or seen the other in combat. Thus, this was the main personal reason that he had answered the call and transferred to the King’s Rangers.

It was good. Good to see her interacting with friends and comrades, and he knew from experience it would also be good to see her in her element on the field of battle, however fleeting those glimpses might be. There was an unconscious awareness of her presence even when they were in different parts of the column that grounded him in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. It was a good adjustment. He knew that their roles in the unit were likely to be very different, so these short couple of days before they split off were ones to be savored.

She wasn’t the only one he paid attention to of course. He had been watching and listening a good deal, as was his wont, and sizing up what he could see of the character of the other Rangers. So far he was pleased, but he would withhold judgement until seeing how they each acted under adversity.

Thûllir shook himself from his momentary musing and moved on to do his own exploration. He had joined the others in the courtyard to receive instructions from the Lieutenant, and then unencumbered his horse, fed and groomed it, and stowed his gear in a corner of the barracks hall before doing a brief reconnaissance of the grounds. Now he was most interested in what food could be obtained from the cooks, as a properly cooked meal would be quite welcome, and also in finding a good spot on the battlements for a view of the surrounding area. He needed to stretch and limber up after all that riding, as well as adjust to seeing the countryside down here so that his eyes could learn to filter the information quickly.

[Arnyn]

Upon arrival at the fort and after learning the Lieutenant had no immediate orders for them, Arnyn had spent a while with Narsúlë. She removed the saddlebags, his saddle and tack. The horse had enjoyed being on the road with her, but it looked like he needed a good gallop before he could really be at peace in the stables. "Late this afternoon, boy," she promised him as she gave him a quick rub down, "I'll come back for you and we'll tire you out well and good. Agreed?" The stallion moved to push his head against her shoulder, and Arnyn smiled at him. They had reached an accord. After making sure he had plenty of food and water, and the door of his stall was well shut, she left to look for some food of her own.

Her stomach was growling and aching for a good meal instead of packed provisions. Not yet interested in where she'd sleep - did it matter? - she immediately sought out the kitchens. It was always a good thing to know the cooks and be on a first name basis with them. Always.

So, with her pack still slung over her shoulder, and by means of a few questions and smiles, she found her way to the mess and kitchen quickly enough. Two of the fort's stewards were running to and fro - she assumed they were likely in charge of the midday meal. "If you need any help, I'm available," Arnyn offered. "The name's Arnyn and I'm no cook, but I can peel potatoes like the best of them." She'd had plenty of practice - spearheading division wars in the barracks got you kitchen duty even when you were an officer. A smile spread across her face. Not anymore. She was simply Ranger Arnyn now. And she was enjoying it. No planning and coordinating for her now - no, she could do whatever she wanted at the moment. She raised an eyebrow at herself, realizing she had just offered her free time up for kitchen duty.

Luckily, the two kitchen stewards only thanked her kindly and declined. They could handle things on their end, they said, but they appreciated the offer and introduced themselves in turn: Liza, a middle aged woman who clearly had all the experience, and Warren, a younger man who was her assistant. Warren even told her to go ahead and sit down, and that he'd bring her a little something if she was hungry already. Arnyn thanked him profusely, and right when he hurried off she heard a voice coming from behind her.

"Nyn." Pele. Arnyn hadn't heard that shorthand since she'd left the White City, and only a few of her close comrades had ever called her as such. Pele was one of those few.

Arnyn turned on her heels and approached her friend with a smile in her eyes and on her lips. "I am glad you found me!" Not asking, she pulled her friend into a hug - a longer one than the brief moment they had shared back in the city. They had been at work then more than they were now, since they were enjoying leisure time - and Arnyn saw no reason to temper her quiet joy at seeing Pele anymore. "I think we should enjoy whatever time is given to us," she said before pulling back from the hug, although she left her hands on Pele's shoulders. "I really cannot tell you how good it is to see you again. You must tell me what you have been up to since..." Arnyn sighed. Part of her still felt guilty over it, even though it had been the right and only choice for her at the time. "Since I left." Her right hand squeezed Pele's left shoulder slightly. "Come, let us take a seat at one of these tables. I expect Warren will be bringing out some bread soon. We can share it."

Unsurpringly, it was Zev who reacted right away. Kaylin grinned at him. When he inquired about Kamion, Kaylin raised her eyebrows at him. "A few things. Why?" she laughed, not lowering her voice all that much since her answer wouldn't give anything away - and lowered voices tended to draw more attention somehow. "Any special interest in the man over the rest of us?" She would wait for a bit more information before actually replying anything else.

"I need to unload my shield somewhere first," she added, looking around. "Probably should find the sleeping hall or whatever passes for it in this place. That'd be a good place to drop our stuff, right? What do you think?" she asked the white-haired young man. "We can explore from there."

[Burnt Toast]

When Kaylin asked why he wanted to know about Kamion, Zev was at a bit of a loss. He wasn't exactly sure how to denote the relationship, (or lack thereof?) betwixt Morwen and the Ranger. Partly, though, he thought he seemed rather interesting, and would like to get to know him.

"Well, I, er..." he began, trying to put his thoughts into words. He decided to not mention Morwen right away. If she found out he was spreading her name around or asking questions, she would be... grumpy. "He just seems really interesting. Is he super old? He looks young, but, I heard he was older than he looks."

When Kaylin suggested unloading their gear, he agreed. "All right, let's do that first. Meet back here as soon as we've finished? Also, do you think Kamion would want to go exploring with us?"

It seemed like a good idea. He could get to know the man, and maybe glean something about the situation with Morwen from him. Without waiting for a response, he impulsively took off, shouting for the tall Ranger.

"Kamion! Kamion! Has anyone seen Kamion?" He kept it up as he headed off to find a place to drop his gear.

[Moriel]

Hay, grain, dung, and horse: the comforting scents of the stable surrounded Kamion as he worked, and he thought as he had occasionally done over the years that had he not taken to the sword, he would quite like to have become a horseman. He was adept and skillful, sure, but horses were not his life as they were to some. “You know, Faran,” the Dúnadan chuckled quietly as he stood from his position on the block, and settled the now-clean saddle onto the post for its storage outside the stall, “I sometimes think horses are better than people.” Faran snorted his agreement. Kamion had lifted the bridle onto a peg next to the saddle and was examining it closely, trying to scrape off one last stubborn but of crusted on, thoroughly masticated grass with his thumbnail, which a sudden should jerked his head up. ”Kamion! Kamion! Has anyone seen Kamion?” If he wasn’t much mistaken, the shouting voice belonged to Zev- what on earth was he crying out like that for? Kamion caught up the baldric that held his sword in ts scabbard from where it had stood propped against the stall, and pointed a finger briefly at Faran and said, “Behave yourself,” a sentiment which was completely ignored by the horse. At a swift trot, Kamion ran out of the stable, alert and ready for whatever the problem might be. As he exited the building, he saw the young man headed towards him and called out, “Zev! What is it? What’s going on?”

[Pele Alarion]

Ranger Pele Alarion

Yet again Pele's body tensed at the touch regardless of her wishes, but this time the embrace was long enough for the first automatic reaction to wear off, so she could return the gesture in a comfortable and relaxed manner. At the same time it seemed to heal some of the brokenness in her heart and soul, though it would probably take many more hugs and quite a long time to complete the healing. Yet this was already good, and Pele found herself smiling brightly at Arnyn, when the woman stepped back.

"I've rather missed you," Pele admitted, and then added: "And have often wondered how you were doing." She took her friend's hesitation and sigh as a sign that not all might have gone very well.

"What have I been up to?" she then repeated, and a shadow of grief appeared instead of a smile, though she tried to chase it away as soon as possible. "Do you really want to hear all the good, the bad and the ugly?" Pele wondered how much she should really tell, and whether that would affect their friendship, but eventually she decided that honesty was the best course of action. "It has been mostly the latter two, and I am not sure I should burden you with those; there has been some occasional good too, though."

She then moved to one of the nearby tables and slipped into a seat. "Are you hungry already?" she asked Arnyn, when she mentioned bread.

[Ercassie]

Ilisys Azrubêl, travelling the Anduin

Meandering like clouds, the group dispersed with no need to decide upon it. Ilisys had watched the diligence which Karis allotted to her penmanship, and the haste of Morwen, who was beginning to boast a rather worrying complexion. The spearmaiden then glanced after this latter, pondering if she should share some consolation, such as they were not out at sea, but a mere River Cruise down the Anduin. Somehow she could not shake the feeling that this would be little comfort. With Red gone to deliver their scribblings up to the Lieutenant, Pele also withdrew, and seemed as she might require some time to herself. Ilisys was not daunted by that concept and leaned where she might have the best view of the changing landscape. It had not been so very long before that she had travelled up this same route to the White City, and she idled in a happy observation of the rolling tapestry, unleashing small snatches of a good many songs that she knew, none of them trilled to completion, and a good many meshed in together in a medley that her mother would roll eyes at. And so the journey passed.


Unalmis Raxëlilta, at Pelargir

When there was some hesitation for the woman to respond, Unalmis saw why; the arrival of the main Ranger party. Such an intriguing procession filed off their craft that he almost forgot he was here to join them, and shook from a mesmerised state in the crowd. The Man who was clearly in charge (Amathen) waved their latecoming contingent toward his Second, which did not bode well at all. Save that the Lieutenant Macardil was most welcoming, and briefed their small group as to what they’d missed. By the laughter and grins that some of the Rangers wore, they seemed a fair bunch. A few grim expressions but he’d never been put off by the likes of those before now. Offering a rather too loud “Sir !” followed by a sheepish account of his meagre skillset, Nal fled from the officer almost as though he had snuck among their number without cause.

That first night he found sleep elusive, for the excitement and the anticipation marked him all too well a relative newcomer to the military, compared to the likes of most. Food and drink had been creatively toyed with as the young man found himself guessing the stories of the Veterans around him. He wondered how many imaginings would prove true.



Both, the Long Ride

Whatever could be said for his youth and the inexperience of real war, Unalmis at least proved that he could stay up all night and be apparently no worse for it the next day. Whether this run of adrenaline would last another day remained to be seen. He made good work of a fair breakfast that first morn, more than compensating for the distraction of the eve before. An apple stowed up one sleeve ensured that Brown remained accommodating at the least. There was naught more that the Ranger would have liked than to break free of their line and ride. Really ride. The steady course of their passage from the city was an astounding reflection of his long ride out of Minas Tirith, so it turned out that had been some valid preparation after all. The company was remarkably less troublesome however and there were no squabbles about leaving burdensome things behind, or losing anyone who had gone to answer the call of nature .. All in all, the ride was remarkably without anything to mark it whatsoever.

Ilisys found him that night or rather, he tripped over her, in seeking out a space to settle down. “You are .. not your cousin,” she recalled, and he laughed, figuring it was far more important she knew that, than knew his name. Which of course he had told her but she showed no signs of accepting. Their reunion saw both to the setting of the sun, and there as Ilisys settled down to conversation with her horse instead, Unalmis relaxed. This was the best part of the entire adventure so far, at least for him. The night air was refreshing, the call of wild things a game of identifying them, and even the uneven ground was very welcome after a sore day of sitting far too still for his liking.


Arrival at the Fort

Arrival at the Fort meant a brief separation, as Nal waited for Ilisys to return from settling her steed, only to discover she must have been far more efficient about it, and disappeared without him. Calls from a red-haired woman to ‘explore’ piqued his interest then, in the very moment that he was summoned by a voice behind him. Turning, the young man puzzled for half a moment, as it seemed quite eerily apparent that this Mourgan was the son Beren was hoping to connect with. There could be no doubt in their similarity, and he had to shake himself to sense before accepting Mourgan’s hand. His smile died in the second that he acknowledged “the lieutenant wishes to see you .. incited panic. What could he have possible done wrong already ?

“Well met it is,” he agreed, although utterly distractedly. “I think our fathers may have served together in Ithilien .. some thousand years ago, or something. .. Looking forward to it,” Unalmis pursued the shocking revelation with a genuine excitement before .. “Really. I’d better ..” A glance caught the sight of Macardil, and a very reluctant Ranger went that way, instead of toward all the adventure. Mourgan must have been possessed of inside information though, for he was right. Unalmis was being allotted to the same group, and he recognised at least half of the other names in that squad.
“Sir,” he was starting to recall the practice of respect until an all too honest “You will not regret this,” let him down ever so slightly.

Meantime, drawn by all the interest in Kamion, Ilisys followed the noise and found him with the line-flyer. Zevarion. “Distinctive,” she remarked upon joining them. For when had she ever waited on invitation ? Distinctive certainly was a true description of the Man’s hair, and possibly the rest of him. She waited to observe what he and Kamion made of each other.

[Arnyn]

The stiffness in Pele's hug wore off after a moment this time - that was reassuring, as was Pele's bright smile. When her friend said she'd missed her, Arnyn nodded and something about Pele's tone of voice made her want to hug her again. She refrained, however, simply squeezing Pele's shoulder a second time. "Likewise."

The way Pele's face darkened momentarily at her question, gave Arnyn some concern. Her friend's reply told her that the past few years hadn't been kind to Pele. While, in Arnyn's case, her time away from the White City had been rather... empty... - the situation seemed to be very different for Pele. Worse. Much worse. It pained her to see Pele this way. She was carrying something with her, that was obvious. "If you cannot burden me with them, Pele, then..." Arnyn shook her head, not finishing her sentence. Pele had probably made many friends in her absence. Who knew what had happened in Pele's personal life? Odds were that she had shared her trouble with the people closest to her. An old friend and former Captain who hadn't been in touch for years was probably not too high on Pele's list of confidants.

"Well..." Arnyn gave Pele an honest look. "All I'm saying is that I'm here for you, if you would still like someone to talk to or even simply to listen to your troubles."

She wanted to wave Pele's question about hunger away, but it was then that Warren rushed by them with a wooden tray with some bread and cheese on it. "Here you go, ladies." Arnyn thanked him kindly and watched him hurry off again for a moment. She picked a piece of bread off the platter and held it out to Pele, taking another piece with her other hand for herself. "What do you think? Some food for the soul?"

She was kind of amused when Zev tried to explain why he wanted to know more about Kamion. Still, there had to be more to it than what he was saying. Zev was being like a dog with a bone, even going in search of Kamion, like a little boy looking for one of his parents. Interesting. Was this just Zev being Zev? Or was there more to his fascination?

When Kamion ran out of the stable, scabbarded sword in hand, Kaylin had to grin. The former Sergeant might well think there was trouble, the way Zev was hollering. Oh, and Isys! Kaylin joined the little group, appearing at Ilisys' side. "Long time, no dung," she greeted the Dol Amrothian with a mischievous grin. "How've you been? Plotting your revenge, I hope?" She was looking forward to that.

[Pele Alarion]

Ranger Pele Alarion

"If you say so..." Pele responded vaguely, mostly in relation to bread, and accepted it. At any rate real bread did taste better than travel rations, and she needed to sustain some strength, lest she be sent back as unfit to continue. Munching slowly on a morsel she had just bitten off to savour the taste, she looked thoughtfully at Arnyn.

"I could burden you, but would it even be fair... instead of simply enjoying seeing each other after so long?" she said doubtfully, playing with the bread.

Casting a cautious look around to ensure no one was near them, Pele then made an attempt at sharing at least something so that her friend would understand the drastic changes: "For a while it was all good and well, but then... I had a 'forced vacation' south of here, was all but picked off the streets," she tried to explain the events without naming specific places and without spelling things out too literally. "My hosts found it necessary to break me inside and out..." her voice trailed away, as she studied the table with much diligence to hide the rising sense of despair.

"Not that they gained any useful knowledge out of me," she hastened to assure her friend, raising her blue eyes to her. "However, I'm afraid that I'd be excluded from duties if it became known where I was." In fact, Pele wondered whether the command already knew; at any rate she had not been asked to explain herself, and she preferred to keep it that way for now.

She ate some more of the bread, as she thought, and then continued: "So my world has all but fallen apart. I've lost much: lost my husband, lost my health, lost my identity... And not sure how to rebuild everything. At any rate I've done all I can to recover physically to take up duties again in hopes of finding myself." Pele studied Arnyn closely, as she asked quietly: "Still care to be my friend after hearing this?"

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel
The trip had been uneventful and calm thus far, and Ziran settled into the travel from Pelargir easily. She enjoyed the riding, even though she had not been riding that long in many months. It was good to be part of this group, with both new acquaintances and old, and she found it interesting to watch the interactions as the unit got to know one another, assessed each other, and adjusted. It was also pleasant to be able to somewhat relax while traveling, and not be one of those making decisions. Freeing. Yes, that was the word. She had needed the break, but it was good to be back and traveling toward unknown dangers, as crazy as that sounded. Each of them must thrive on it in some fashion, or at least be willing to face them for various reasons, or they wouldn’t be here.
Such thoughts and others occupied her until they reached the area near the Poros, when she started focusing more on the fort and its surroundings. Things could change rapidly over the years, and although she had been there before, Ziran noted many subtle changes. Signs of neglect, and recent attempts at setting things to rights.
When they reached the fort, they were all dismissed save for herself and Mourgan. Ziran stepped aside with some curiosity to hear what the Lieutenant had to say. Given the new additions to the group, she was not surprised to hear that they were both being reassigned. She nodded in tandem with the young Ranger when she heard her new squad list. "Will do sir." She glanced sideways at Mourgan when he went still at the names of the newcomers. Ah...Beren. It was clear enough from his choosing to go find the others instead that there was something about Beren that made him uncomfortable, but Ziran wasn't sure what it was. Nodding her agreement to his proposal, she let the matter slide, and set off to locate her target.
She was vaguely aware of who Beren was, but had never interacted much with him in years past. Still, it wasn't that difficult to locate him since she had made her acquaintance with the others on the unit already. "Beren is it? Lieutenant wants to talk to you." She gestured over her shoulder towards the officer before taking her leave to find a place to rest.

[Arnyn]

Arnyn was glad when Pele accepted the bread; she was looking much skinnier than Arnyn remembered, as if she'd lost a good bit of muscle. Worry started gnawing at the corners of Arnyn's mind, and she probably wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Pele, since the two of them were in different squads. Maybe she could ask Red... but he would probably see the same thing she did and wouldn't need a request to watch out for Pele. Something to ponder on, perhaps.

She'd been nibbling the bread, but her movements stilled as she listened to Pele, her hand holding the bread slowly lowering to the table, the chewing stopping. A forced vacation. Picked off the streets. Someone or some group tried to get information out of her. That could only mean one thing. Pele had been captures and she'd suffered through a lot of pain. Arnyn wanted to reach out to her friend again, but she was afraid Pele might fall silent if she did, and she wanted to hear more. She wanted to protest when Pele said she was afraid she'd be dismissed if it became known what she'd been through, but stayed her response, watching Pele with increasingly sad eyes. Her husband, lost. Mentally, Arnyn cringed. Health, identity... Arnyn shifted in her seat then. If Pele had lost her sense of self... Arnyn would just have to help her reclaim it, somehow.

Pele's question gave her an important opening. Arnyn put the bread down and took Pele's free hand in hers. "I would be a wretched person indeed if I were to turn away from you when you need me the most. I would never abandon you for cruel things that happened through no fault of your own." Pele was one of the kindest people she knew. "There is no question, Pelepele: when you need me, I am here. We are family."

Lieutenant Macardil

Mourgan and Karis took well to their reassignments, which was pleasing. So far none of these Rangers seemed to have a chip on their shoulder, nor did they seem to protest against having to answer to him: a man just nearing his mid-thirties, whom most of them didn't even know.

Another man approached and saluted him. Macardil frowned ever so slightly as he sized the man up. Who would this be, from the people who were left and had been invited to join with them? When the man introduced himself, the Lieutenant nodded in recognition of the name.

"Good to see you decided to answer your King's call, Abrazimir." He raised a hand in response to the man's apology and accepted the second piece of parchment the man offered to him. "No matter. You arrived in time; the work starts tomorrow." Reading through Abrazimir's information, the Lieutenant decided quickly. Another shield. They could use one of those in the second squad, to round them out some more. "Good. You will join Mourgan, Morwen, Ilysis, Red and Pele. You are free to move around the fort as you please until sunrise tomorrow. Dismissed."

[Burnt Toast]

Zev was startled when he actually received a response to his shouting. He had just finished dropping off his gear, and was still careening about the place shouting, when a tall Ranger came into view, sword in hand. Zev skidded to a halt. Oops. He hadn't meant to cause alarm.

The tattooed young man shifted from foot to foot a bit, almost akin to when he had been a youth caught in the act of mischief. "Er, I.. Nothing's the matter, that is." he began awkwardly. "No need for swords and the like," He looked around them, realizing that a few Rangers had gathered nearby, perhaps drawn by the sounds. Or maybe by the way he stood out like a sore thumb with his bare feet and bare chest, tattoos revealed to all the world. He tugged at a gold ear loop, and gave an embarrassed bob of his head. "I, erm, get a bit overexcited sometimes. I was just hoping to, er, chat with you." He turned to the nearby Rangers, one of whom he didn't recognize yet. (Ilisys) "I'm Zev!" He exclaimed, hoping the introduction might distract from his own foolhardiness. Unlikely, but worth a try.

<> <> <> <>

Morwen had heard Zev go careening through the fort, but hadn't made out what he was shouting, something about camping? She hadn't paid him much mind, he was always up to something. She had stabled her horse, and set up a sleeping spot, and was now taking a bit of a walk through the area, just stretching her legs from all the riding they had done.

And so, lost in thought as she was, it wasn't until she was all but directly on top of Arnyn and Pele that she realized they were there. She came to an abrupt halt, and realized they were in the midst of what seemed a serious conversation. Or maybe Pele just always looked that somber now. It made her heart ache, but she wasn't sure what to say. Part of her was still angry, though she knew that was selfish. Her old friend had clearly suffered. She knew that haunted look all too well.

"Forgive me, Rangers," she managed to keep her tone mostly even, sticking with formal titles. Otherwise she might not be able to make it through the next words. "I didn't mean to intrude. I... hope you're well." She wanted to say so much more, but not only did she not know what to say, she was unsure if Pele wanted to talk to her. "I'll...leave you two in peace." She hesitated, perhaps hoping one of them would ask her to stay. Perhaps hoping they would let her leave.

[Ercassie]

Ilisys Azrubêl

The arrival of Kaylin managed to surprise her, and Ilisys was more practiced in surprising others. Still she knew from grand experience that this particular Gondorian had got the drop on her before now. And doubtless was more practiced in that art than many in the city she called home. The woman of Dol Amroth smiled quite disarmingly, as she glanced about the bladeswoman's hair, suddenly distracted. As though there might be something strange amongst that fine red mane which Kaylin had not yet observed, and which of course there was not. But the ruse had been amusing at the expense of others before and it did not harm to set a friend forever alert. "Why else would I have come ?" she put the matter to debate, asking the air of where no other stood on her other side. And if any knew her at all then they might suppose it was utterly possible that she had enlisted solely for the chance, for revenge.

The strange man (Zev) fell toward explaining, or at least making some attempt at explaining, until Ilisys at least was more convinced she knew less as to what was going on now, than she had known before coming over. She circled the Man slowly, scrutinising his garb, or lack thereof, and concluded she had never seen his like. "Chat can be very exciting of course," she agreed, with a serious nod. "But, when all is said and dung … at least where I come from, a man who calls another out is looking for a duel ..?" she dared. Or not. Already she was glancing back at Kaylins's hair again. Almost as though there was certainly something there to grab attention. Except that there still, most certainly, was not.

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Macardil

After the welcomes and initial reassignments, he had more work to do. He visited the bay mare that would be his companion, to properly care for her first, which took a good while. Then he spoke to the fort's head steward. He found everything is order; Commander Amathen had been very precise with his instructions. ALl the Lieutenant could do was inform the steward of their exact number, and ask if there was anything else he needed to know. Turned out that wasn't the case. Good. Then it looked like he had some free time himself.

Well, if you could call it that, since he needed - and wanted - to stay available and visible, in case any of the Rangers needed him. Since the weather was nice, and he preferred the outdoors to an old fort, Macardil settled on a grassy spot in the courtyard. He detached the lognbow from his back and carefully laid it on the grass. After removing his gloves, he took out his small oil flask. It was a systematic and therapeutic task for him, one that allowed his brain to quiet down and just focus on the main weapon that kept him alive. As his fingers rubbed the oil into the wood of his bow, any tension that would have found its way into his expression and bright blue eyes faded away. This was a peaceful moment for the Lieutenant.

When he was done with his bow, he would proceed to the bow strings he carried, to check if any needed waxing. He had checked everything before the meeting at HQ a few days earlier as well, but he wanted no surprises that he could avoid tomorrow.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

Admitting even in so few words what had happened to her had come with much difficulty for Pele, as she had been led to believe that her reputation was forever ruined in Gondor, that people knew she had been in Umbar, and that they had been told that she had betrayed Gondor, though she had not. This was the very reason she had not dared to return as soon as possible, all but isolating herself, and she had only come back when she realised she needed additional help from the Houses of Healing.

It seemed though that perhaps she should not have believed what she had been told, but it had been so difficult when robbed of almost everything and left barely hanging on for life. The realisation that she still had friends that the enemy had not poisoned against her was almost too wonderful to accept, and Pele felt her throat tighten. She found herself fighting back the tears when Arnyn took her hand. She was longing for friendship like a desert land longing for rain, and now it no longer seemed like something unattainable.

And then there was Morwen, looking like she had wandered around aimlessly and only noticed them at the last moment. Feeling somewhat embarrassed to be caught on the verge of crying, Pele did not know how to react at first, but then she set down the bit of bread and tapped the chair next to her lightly. "If you like to stay..." she managed to say, and then motioned to the bread and cheese Warren had brought in case Morwen wanted something to snack on.

[Burnt Toast]

Morwen Daegomir

Morwen was still unsure of whether she would rather stay or leave, but Pele's words decided it. The words the woman spoke clearly took a good deal of effort, however much she was good at hiding it. Morwen hoped that the invitation was not made out of a sense of obligation, but, she was here now, and it looked like she had decided to stay. She moved stiffly to the chair next to Pele, and sat down, trying to relax and appear at ease. The golden-eyed woman suspected it did not fool anyone. Pele and Arnyn were to sharp for that sort of thing.

She tried not to look too hard at Pele's face, recognizing the barely held back emotion there. She reached out toward the platter and took a hunk of bread and cheese at Pele's gesture. "Thank you," she said softly, before taking a bite. She was grateful for the distraction of food to eat, because the silence pressed on her uncomfortably now. She didn't know what to say.

She almost snorted out loud as a thought occurred to her. Where was Zev when you needed him?

[Arnyn]

At Isys' disarming smile, Kaylin return a smile of amusement in return. When the Dol Amrothian gave a weird look at her hair, Kaylin sighed mentally. Was Ilisys going to play the redhead card? That was disappointing; it had been overdone while Kaylin was growing up, and she'd become quite immune to both subtle and less subtle jabs about her haircolor. She would have thought the woman would have better ideas than that old bit. "I do hope you think of something better than my hair, then," Kaylin told Ilysis, rather disappointed.

Luckily, Zev's awkwardness was entertaining enough to bring another grin to her face. "Yes, Kamion," she interjected. "Zev here seems quite taken with you. I think he's targeted you as his next best friend." Based off her previous interactions with Zev, he'd be able to take a little light-hearted banter.

Morwen was suddenly upon them. Arnyn nodded welcome at her, but also regretted that the woman hadn't waited just five minutes longer. She wanted to hear what was bothering Pele so badly, in full. She wanted to help. And now they had company, Arnyn wasn't so sure whether Pele would still share. It all depended on the relationship she shared with Morwen, most likely. Though it was always easier to share delicate stories with one person than with two. And there was another thing...

Pele had said earlier that she'd lost her health. Arnyn needed to know to what extent. Could Pele still take care of herself? How long could she hold her own in a heated fight? If what the Lieutenant had told them was true, the orcs they were chasing weren't allowed to be stupid, nor were they bad fighters.

Morwen sat next to Pele at her invitation, but stayed silent. Not understanding at all what had happened between Pele and Morwen to make this interaction so... wordless... Arnyn cleared her throat and smiled at the two women. "Well. I think we all have things in our past we would like to stay there," she said slowly. "Perhaps we can all agree on moving forward from here. Unless there is something I am missing that happened between the two of you. If that's the case, I'd be willing to sit elsewhere so you two can try and talk it through."

[Turin Ringhûn]

Turin finished polishing his blade sword. While polishing it, he'd also setup the sharpening wheel. He normally sharpened his blade with a whet stone, but since he was at the smithy, he figured he'd use their equipment to take care of his gear. He also went ahead and checked his arrows and the string for his bow. It was still in good shape.

He nodded to the smithies and left the stall. He looked around. His stomach growled, so he decided to take care of that problem next. Following his nose, he eventually found the kitchen and took a cup of water, a roll, and a piece of dried meat. In the back of his mind, he could hear both his mom and his wife saying he should have some veggies, but with a smirk on his face, he walked away. Finding a table away from others, he sat and enjoyed the meal. While eating, he thought back to his time farming. He grew tomatoes, corn, beans, potatoes. A couple times he grew squash as well, but he was not much of a fan of that vegetable.

With that 'problem' taken care of, he actually looked around. He saw Pele, Arnyn, and someone else together. They seemed to be in a serious conversation already, so he simply nodded in their direction. Whether they noticed him or not, it didn't really matter. The next item on the agenda for Turin was to get some sleep. Though he managed to hide it, the riding of the horses to the ship, then from Pelargir to the fort was really wearing on him. It had been quite some time since he'd ridden so much, so his body was far from used to it now. He wanted rest. He knew it was very likely going to be an early morning, so getting to bed now would help in the long run.

He asked about the barracks, was pointed in the direction. He found an empty bed, and was out five minutes after laying down.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

"Oh, I wish moving forward and leaving past behind would be just a bit easier," Pele sighed in response to Arnyn's words, and then quickly ate the last bit of bread she still had, as she took a while to calm down and avoid embarrassing herself by weeping in view of her friends. "You don't have to go away, Arnyn, as I owe Morwen some explanations anyway along the lines of what I have been telling you."

She glanced at Morwen, thinking over the best choice of words. "Do not think that I left you because I wanted to get rid of you. I would not have gone if I could have helped it," she tried to explain the circumstances and make the golden-eyed woman understand the reasons, as well as perhaps provide more details to Arnyn. Even though Pele felt somewhat cornered and put in the spotlight, she thought this was as good a time as any to share what had happened, and perhaps strengthen the cooperation before they were off into a battle (or before she was sent away).

"It's a long story... But... I was rendered unconscious by means of poisoning and taken to Umbar against my will," Pele ran her hand over the eyes as if to chase off dark memories. "Don't make me tell you too many details... The Umbarian hospitality nearly killed me, not even sure how I managed to get out of there alive," she glanced at Arnyn, hoping for understanding and encouragement. "Felt like there was no place on my body that had not been cut, burned, broken or otherwise harmed."

The more she thought of the past experiences, the more despair she felt rising in her heart, so she hastened to continue: "At first I simply could not return because I was too weak; and later I was afraid that my enemies had spread foul rumour of me in the City to turn everyone against me, so I did not dare come back... until recently. I am still afraid... afraid of rejection, afraid of being labelled a traitor, afraid of being denied a chance to return properly and find hope for future," Pele's voice fell almost to whisper at the last sentence, as she studied her hands, painfully aware of the missing left pinky, instead of facing whatever reactions her friends might have.

She wanted to rebuild her life, make it as normal as possible, yet she was not that sure if she had enough strength to achieve this goal; she was very much aware that she still needed some physical healing, mostly with a focus on recovering strength - which she mostly knew how to deal with, but she was not sure how to manage the mental and emotional wounds captivity had caused, nor did she know where to look for aid, or if she even should.

[Arnyn]

She watched Pele carefully as she spoke, trying to determine whether her old friend was trying to say something more than the actual words that were crossing her lips. Arnyn was somewhat relieved when Pele said she needn't leave. When Pele glanced at Morwen, adressing her, and then spoke of being taken to Umbar, Arnyn cringed mentally. She understood better now what Pele had been saying earlier. There would be commanders who might no longer trust her, perhaps, yes. Then the question was whether Amathen and Macardil would be among such commanders... they didn't know Pele the way many of the Rangers present here did, however, and that might work against her.

When Pele glanced at her, Arnyn nodded, hoping she would continue. Sometimes, talking about wounds was the only way to help them heal. She felt like Pele was starting to rush her words a bit, and frowned slightly. Unease? Or was her friend having a hard time reliving the memories? Or perhaps it was simply challenging to speak of her thoughts and emotions out loud? Any and all were a possibility.

"Pele..." Arnyn began softly, but loud enough for both Pele and Morwen to hear, "I would say none who know you would deem such rumors as possibly true." She slid a bit closer to Pele on the bench so she could place an arm around her friend's shoulders, giving her a sideways hug. "I know I wouldn't consider such talk for even a moment. I think you'd die before giving up anything useful." Arnyn shook her head. "I am so sorry this happened to you. But I am also very glad that you lived to tell the tale. And that you would confide in me..." She gave Morwen a nod. "In us." Trust was important. It meant they hadn't broken Pele's spirit in all the ways they had surely wanted to.