@Arnyn
Tirdinen Duinion Raedor
Sept 3rd - Mid Morning
Following a trail in the Pelennor
The fact that Arnyn's thoughts about the scorched cloth had been more accurate than Duinion's first, panicked thoughts, was actually a relief to him, though he still had no idea what had actually occurred here. Deciding that they probably didn't need the ruined sleeve, he laid it across the log and returned to where Vorondil stood. He looked again at the tracks the other ranger had mentioned. "Yes," He agreed thoughtfully. "Came to his horse.. to get something from his bags, maybe?" He guessed. "Medical supplies, I would guess. Bandages, if he was smart enough to have any with him." It made sense, why he would stop at his horse, then go to someplace he could sit, if his arm was as bad as the sleeve would imply. "He probably couldn't do it alone, so had to ask.." He paused, thinking of how he'd assessed the tracks where the girl was sitting. Hadn't he said it looked like he might have pulled her up, roughly? "or, perhaps
demanded.. the girl to assist." He concluded quietly, with a thoughtful frown.
He was thinking about that as he ventured back toward where Arnyn was. He wished he knew who these people were, and what had actually happened here. Was the girl an accomplice, or possibly an unwilling participant? He sighed softly as he looked down at where she had been sitting. Hattie's tracks were all over this spot, too. Or, a dog's were. Not necessarily Hattie, he reminded himself. It could have been another dog, but he was hoping that it was Hattie, since that might mean they were that much closer to finding Eryn. Or, some sign of her.
When Arnyn located more boot tracks, Duinion looked up, then nodded. "Yes," He replied firmly. "I want to know where he came from, just before arriving
here." He declared. "And how he got that injury, too..." He felt that the answers to those questions must somehow lead them to Eryn. "The dog set off that way, too," He commented, intrigued by that fact, while careful not to label the pawprints as definitely belonging to Hattie. "It was running," He paused. "Of course, that doesn't really mean anything," He acknowledged as he moved alongside the paw print tracks. It could mean the dog had spotted a rabbit or squirrel, and had taken off after it.
The paw print trail crossed the boot prints at one point, and both trails seemed to be moving in the same direction, but not with the exact same destination in mind. And, of course, the boots were coming from somewhere
else to here, while the paw prints were coming from
here to somewhere else.
Considering how much a dog like Hattie was prone to just run around for no particular reason than for fun, Duinion was more interested in the boots, since the person wearing them had clearly had something to do with this whole thing. Probably everything to do with it, in fact. Working alongside Arnyn, Duinion followed the trail as it cut through the young forest and headed straight toward the burned house. He frowned, wondering what they might find, there. His own house had survived the raiding orc party because he had prepared in advance, and made a firebreak all around the woods surrounding his property so that it would be safe unless the enemies specifically set fire to it. But the place had been well enough out of their way that it hadn't been bothered, thankfully. This place had not been so fortunate.
The tracks became a little harder to see as they left the forest and crossed the open ground, which might have once been a plowed field where a farmer grew crops. It was overgrown, and the dirt hadn't been worked in some years so it wasn't as loose or rich as it might have been, but neither was it as hard packed as the average ground. Some prints were visible here and there, and these led them straight toward the ruined structure. And right to... a gaping
hole in the ground, nestled alongside the house's side wall. Stone framed the sides of the hole, forming walls that were swallowed up in darkness below. Crumbling steps, also made of stone, showed a way in and out of the hole, but the doors that had once covered the hole were burned away to nothing.
Duinion abruptly stopped a couple of yards away, when it became clear that the boot tracks had emerged from the depths of this hole. A cellar, actually, not just a hole. A sickening smell of old decay wafted up from the darkness, suddenly overpowering his senses with memories of another cellar he'd tried so hard to forget. Feeling unable to breathe for a moment, he caught his breath while one hand involuntarily came up to cover his nose and mouth. Hazel eyes stared at the opening. There was a growing sense of dread knotting up in his stomach, and he felt his pulse speeding up at the sight and smell before him. His feet were suddenly unwilling to move another step. Why did it have to such a place as
that?
Almost without realizing it, he had taken a step back, though he hadn't even gotten closer than a couple of yards. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the horrible hole. "S-something.. is dead..." He forced the words out with a bit of difficulty. The words were uttered almost too quietly to be heard. What he couldn't find the words to say, was that he couldn't quite bear the thought of who or what was in there, making that awful smell. His greatest dread was that they might have found Eryn.. in the worst possible sense of the word 'found'.
Private - solo post
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Duinion &
Trastion
Daisy Dairy farm
September 9th, evening
“Thank you so much for letting me sleep here.” Trastion winced as he leaned down to put his bedroll on the ground, near the campfire that was burning low. Duinion's outdoor living area surprised him slightly, and yet he thought it seemed like an excellent set up. When the suggestion was made that he ought to see about joining Duinion for the duration of his banishment from the Barracks, Trastion had realized the sense in this, and was very grateful to the Tirdinen for agreeing to it.
Duinion nodded, hiding a little smile. “No problem. I heard you’ve had a rough couple of days. And, I figure it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra watchman around here, after.. everything.” He shrugged slightly. It was a reasonable enough excuse, if the lieutenant had any sort of protest about him letting Trastion sleep here until he was allowed back at the barracks. He couldn’t see any reason why she would object, though.
As for himself, Duinion felt more at ease, knowing the young man was sleeping someplace safe and that he was at least getting regular meals, and keeping warm enough at night. Even though he'd been camping in the Training ground's woods, Duinion still preferred to be able to know he wasn't out there by himself. Especially seeing what a difficult time he was having just moving around. While he didn't expect there to be any enemies out there, there were other factors to consider. If he was too exhausted to bother lighting a fire, for example, and the temperature dropped overnight, he might have hypothermia before he realized it was a problem. Or, he might light a fire and then fall asleep, and it could get out of control while he was too weary to wake up and notice... there were just so many ways that even an experienced woodsman could get into danger when they were as weary and overworked as Trastion appeared to be.
Trastion groaned, lowering himself down to the ground. “The worst.” He agreed. He couldn’t even bring himself to unroll the bedroll, yet. They had just arrived from retrieving his gear from his camp in the training grounds, and he was extra grateful to Duinion for having gone along to help him carry it all. “
And I have to be back again tomorrow.” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’d be any good as a watchman, but I’ll try my best.”
Duinion couldn’t help feeling rather sympathetic to the young man, but was careful not to let that show. “At least, staying here, you don’t have to worry about catching your own food, or starting a fire. Or cooking it.” He mentioned quietly. “What time do you have to be back tomorrow?”
“Dawn.” Trastion felt he could hardly move. His arms, legs, stomach... everything was aching. even muscles he'd never even thought about. “This is…” He shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know. I didn’t quite expect it to be this intense.”
“Is this part of your punishment?” Duinion asked with a slightly puzzled frown. “I heard about.. the incident.” He explained. Most likely,
everyone had heard about that.
Trastion blinked up at the sky, hesitating briefly. “No, it’s just part of my training.” He answered, feeling too sore and stiff to even think about trying to sit up again, now that he was down.
Duinion frowned to hear this. It didn’t sound right to him. He thought for a moment. “How long have you been at this?”
“Two days.” Trastion mumbled.
“And your.. incident was two days ago.” Duinion raised an eyebrow. It didn’t
sound unrelated to him. The timing seemed rather coincidental. “Hmm.” He considered this briefly. “Are you
sure?” He wondered, finding it very hard to believe that it wasn’t.
Trastion glanced over at him. “Well, I asked her,” He answered, a little puzzled. “I specifically asked whether the training would’ve been this intense, regardless of the incident at the barracks, and she said it would’ve. She wouldn’t lie about that.” He had no doubt about that. “But,” He went on, “even if it was,” He sighed stared up at the darkening sky. “I figure I probably deserve it.”
“Oh?” Duinion frowned slightly, hearing this. “What makes you think you
deserve such misery and pain and discomfort?”
Trastion sighed, pausing, and glanced at Duinion. “I said something horrible. I still can’t believe I said it.. and I can never undo what I said. I.. don’t even know how to
begin trying to make up for it, and.. I just feel so bad.” He frowned, closing his eyes. The memory of that idiotic mistake would probably stick with him forever. As well it should, he decided. So, he wouldn't repeat that mistake in the future.
Duinion considered Trastion's words for a moment, and shook his head slightly. Regrets were very difficult to live down, as he knew well from personal experience. Quietly, he got up and went to his shelter, dug around among the jars of stuff he kept out there, and finally returned and set one of the jars near Trastion. “Rub that on wherever you’re hurting, and it ought to help.” He told him. “But, first I would advise you test a small area. Just a little patch of skin, like your arm, to make sure it isn't going to be too.. intense.”
Trastion turned his head and tried to get a look at what was in the jar, curious. “What's in it?” he asked, partly to make sure it didn’t contain any alcohol, but also partly to satisfy his curiosity.
Duinion smiled faintly. “A special kind of pepper, ground up very fine, and mixed with olive oil. You’ll want to make sure you wash your hands well after you touch it, and make sure you don't touch your face.. and especially not your eyes.. before you've washed your hands.” He warned. “But it usually helps with muscle soreness, like what you’re experiencing. It gives a sort of.. soothing heat that helps relax the achy muscles.”
Trastion considered that for a moment, then reluctantly sat up, wincing with a groan as his stomach muscles protested the action. But he managed to get into an upright position. “Right.” He picked it up and looked at the stuff curiously before rubbing a small amount on his upper arm.
“So, this is really just part of your training?” Duinion asked again, a bit skeptically, as he watched the trainee.
Trastion nodded without taking his eyes off of his arm, waiting to decide whether it was doing anything useful.
“I don’t recall Romeran having to do such intense workout,” Duinion commented. “Nor Unalmis. Nor myself…”
Trastion glanced at him. “What, you
really think it is part of the punishment?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Just seems a little.. intense. And the timing is.. awfully coincidental? If it’s only training.” Duinion replied with a shrug, watching Trastion begin to rub more of the stuff on his arms, once he seemed satisfied that it might actually help.
Trastion considered that as he worked on rubbing the salve in. He could feel the heat seeping into his muscles, and hoped that would be a good thing. “Well,” He said a bit hesitantly. “I did sorta ask for it.”
Duinion looked puzzled. “You
asked for this?”
“Well,” Trastion grinned slightly. “Not
this,” he nodded toward himself, meaning his sore muscles. “But, well, I said I wanted to learn Arnyn’s style of fighting, and she warned me it would be intense. I just didn’t realize
how intense.” He explained. “She told me I might regret it...”
“I see…” Duinion wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, and wondered if the boy was crazy to have asked for such a thing. “And.. do you?” He wondered curiously.
Trastion paused, thinking about how much he was hurting, and the fact that he had to go back again tomorrow and do all of this over again. He really dreaded that. But thinking back on the duel he had witnessed, and how gracefully and, apparently effortlessly, Arnyn had defeated Kaylin, who was quite well known around the city as being an excellent swordswoman… he shook his head slowly. “No. I think it’ll be worth it.” He decided after a moment’s pause. "Eventually." He smiled faintly as he added that part.
“Hmm.” Duinion nodded slightly, but didn’t press the matter. As sore as Trastion seemed to be, he wondered how the lieutenant could possibly expect him to train again tomorrow. And according to Trastion, they were going to do this every day? That seemed like far too much to him. But, he didn’t really have much say in those things. He was only training him in woodsmanship skills, not fighting skills. “Are you going to join us for supper, or are you too sore to get up?” He asked with a little smile.
Trastion groaned at the thought of getting up, but he was starving. He sighed. “Yeah, I’ll come.” He wasn’t looking forward to having to do any more walking, though, after two days of running up all six levels of the city... in full gear.
“It’ll be easier on your legs, later on, if you walk around a bit now.” Duinion pointed out, knowing how much easier it would be on the muscles if he moved around a bit.
“Yeah, alright.” Trastion agreed with a sigh. Still, he didn’t try to get up just yet, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible.
Duinion stood up, then held a hand down to help the young man to his feet. While he could have went in and brought something back out to Trastion, and let him eat by the campfire where they were already sitting, he thought it would be better for him if he came inside and joined the rest of them at the table.
Surprised by the gesture, Trastion smiled and let him help. He winced as his legs protested the upright position, and his abs weren’t happy with the movement either. “Ughhhhhhh. I don’t think there’s enough of the salve for everything that hurts,” he mentioned with a groan.
Shaking his head slightly in a mix of sympathy and amusement, Duinion walked along with Trastion toward the house. He figured Aggie was probably nearly done with supper by now, and figured they might as well come in. Maybe Aggie would put Trastion to work setting the table or something, and they could relay to Arnyn that he had been being helpful. "Perhaps Aggie will have something that will help, too. Seems like she keeps a few things on hand in the pantry that might help with aches." He figured he would ask her what she had on hand, anyway.
"Anything that can help would be welcome." Trastion agreed, curious what sort of remedies Duinion's sister would have, and wondered if Eryn might have been practicing at making salves and things like that for her healer training. As he walked, he wondered how a homecooked meal would differ from the meals at the barracks, but regardless, he was just glad to be able to get a good, solid meal and not have to worry about going to bed still feeling hungry.