CHAPTER 7 - The Trail Home

[tomcat]

Cut Scenes:
1) To be done later.
2) To be done later.

Prologue: Month of March - Fornost Erain

The month passed and the signs of spring began to show themselves - birds returned from the south and plants and trees began to bud. The oppressive feel that seemed to hang in the air throughout the winter, like a cold clutching hand, began to ease. It had been a cruel winter coupled with the onset of the plague. But now fields began to change from yellows and browns to greens and other vibrant colors of flowering plants.

In Fornost, there was again great celebration for the return of Camentir and for the successful blow that Dirnhael and his companions had dealt to Angmar. Though many had perished, the campaign was deemed an overall success. Of the Company that Dirnhael had led out, not including his immediate companions, three had returned with him after the long month's travel home. Of Camentir's Third Host, Eradin had ridden into Fornost with twelve companions. Still, the fortress of Eldanar had been overcome and destroyed; the dragon Scatha the Mighty, who could have been a great plague to both Men and Elves, had been driven away; and the Witch-king was delivered a sting that he would not soon forget.

Fengel's heart was filled with pride from completing the task that had been set before he and his comrades, but more so with this motley company of Men, Elf, and Dwarf that he now considered closer than friends, family if you will.

With the onset of spring, the Éothraim began to think about his homeland far away and how the mountain passes would soon be open. He had become a fast friend to Dirnhael and Edrahil and he missed the company of those that were lost Lûnduf and Angbor, but his thoughts ever went back to the lands from which he had come. He thought of his sister Gléowyn.

As he remembered her beauty, his heart fell, "What if she has died of this cursed disease!" he thought. "No, she is to strong, she must have survived."

The time was fast approaching for him to tell his new friends that he must go.

Dirnhael spent the weeks in the company of Ioreth. The noble woman had met him at the gates upon his return and the smile she had given him made Dirnhael rue the weeks that he had spent away from her. She had captured his heart and he knew that the day would come soon when he would ask her for her hand.

One thing that concerned the Dúnadan warrior was Ioreth's father. The nobleman had had Dirnhael escort him about the city and sit with him during court - all for obvious political purpose. Dirnhael was a hero within the realm and affiliation to him most apparently offered clout. Still, Dirnhael endured for Ioreth's sake; her smile and forgiving eyes enough to make it worthwhile. "You honor him, and you honor me," she would say, "For this, I will be eternally grateful."

The sword Andúring, which he bore, now sat in a place of honor within the King's hall until Dirnhael decided what he would do with the shard. To reforge the blade would require the skills of the Elven smiths in Lindon or Rivendell, but Dirnhael wondered if the blade would ever truly be whole again - its broken shard now tormenting the great dragon as a splinter under the skin.

Edrahil had spent a great deal of time away from the others. Long did he work with the healers and loremasters of the realm to help continue in their efforts against the sickness that still claimed lives. Ephanial was now prevalent within the realm, as the King had sent many riders east to Yarë's sanctum to collect the fragrant, bright flowers. With the medicine in hand, the healers were overcoming the plague, but still it had left its mark. Many people had died and the kingdom could not afford much more loss. The Sindar continued to aid as he could with both healing hand and through teaching.

The Elf was beginning to feel the need that he too must be getting back to his homeland. Long had he been on the road, even before he took up with Angbor and Dirnhael and his task had been to glean information for the Lord Cirdan - that task he had achieved. Still, he had grown a strong kinship with his companions and he questioned whether he would serve his lord better by continuing on or coming home.

It was only early spring... he had plenty of time to decide what he would do.

With March nigh over, Fengel stood at the head of the table where he and his friends had just finished a feast. The Éothraim looked to his friends, "I was but a stranger to you all when we met, but now you are my brothers! It pains me to leave you but I must, for I have a sister who has survived the plague and I long to see her once again."

His head lowered, "But first I am going to Lûnduf's people to tell them of his heroic end and honor him in his home land. Nain I do not know your kind, so I would be grateful if you would accompany me. The invitation stands as well to all of you, my brothers." Fengel put a hand on Durgil's shoulder and gave him a smile. Then he spoke, "I am sorry that I was short with you in our travels, you are a strong man and will make a good leader one day. What say you, shall we ride once again to honor our fallen brother!"

Durgil had been sad for his friend that he lost, yet he was buoyed by the fact that their mission was successful, but at a cost that he had hoped could have been avoided. Many men died or were injured, precious few besides the captains returned. This wouldn't bode well for his plans for the elite scout group, but maybe Camentir could help speak to this, so during the road back they discussed the idea of the Ranger.

With so much time spent with Dirnhael and the others, he couldn't bear to see the group break up. Though he was really an outsider, they did what they could to include him. His liking of Dirnhael especially grew over the last campaign and his sister chose well. When Fengel decided to return to his land, Durgil felt he needed to accompany him. Traveling the lands, learning about different realms, and gaining intelligence of the Enemy abroad were just a few of the good reasons for him to go, but, of course, his father would not see the logic in any of it.

As for the others, Edrahil was yet to respond, but Nain too would go. Daelhun would not. The young warrior was back amongst his comrades in the garrison of Fornost. He was delighted to have been a part of the rescue of Camentir and to now be once more under his command. Regretfully, he said his farewells as once again he took to horse and rode out of Fornost to patrol the far reaching realm of Arthedain.

"You're leaving again?! Why is it that you cannot see that your place is here with me and your sister tending to the affairs of the realm?" Durgil's father barked.

"There are many reasons, some you just wouldn't understand... this is one of them!" Taking a calming breath, he continued. "My fate may be tending the duties that you have but the road for me getting there doesn't end here right now. I can serve the kingdom and our people just as well as by going, better even I believe, than by staying here. There is so much to see and learn about. We have lost touch with many allies; even the elves of Rivendell and Mithlond don't travel here like they did in the days of old. There is a great storm coming if what we've encountered of late is any indication."

Turning away from his father, "I do not ask your leave father, as you will not give it, but I ask you to just understand." Walking away, then pausing a moment, Durgil knew that it would be a long time ere he returns and saw his father, if ever again. He continued out the door of his house, his home, in silence without turning his head back.

Durgil's father stood alone in the great room of his home agape and aghast at his son's attitude and actions. It didn't seem so long ago that he had given a similar lecture to his father and now his son had done as well, though he didn't stand up to him as Durgil had.
"Full circle I have come," he thought aloud to no one, "My son, I do understand, but I do not want to lose you and in a foreign land no less where I could not give you a proper farewell."

With a rattling cough and single tear down his cheek, he knew that he would not live to see his son return.

OOC: Some of this stuff is just a reiteration of what you guys gave me in the Conclusions thread. Still, I wanted to organize it into a continuity. Feel free to add any more posts regarding the time spent in Fornost - 1 month - we will officially begin the new Chapter on the 1st of November.

I look forward to it!!

[tomcat]

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