Correcting the dwarf...

[tomcat]

OOC:
The beginning part of this post (in italics) is from previous posts by you guys, I just wanted to re-address the time of the scene.

***

Back at the main camp, the rest of the Host relaxed and healed. With the coming of morning, it was time to start making some plans. How to assault a castle (built by the Dúnedain) with only the meager force that they had?

Dirnhael took a stick and dragged it through the snow-covered ground. He had not seen Barad Eldanar before so it was difficult to plan any type of move on the fortress. He called over his stone mason and began to question him, he needed some answers.

"You're going to assault a castle with this motley bunch? Humph. I'm beginning to think that I'd be better off with my brother. You're cracked!" Looking around, Nain ponders the attack. "If the Castle had been built by the Dwarves at least there'd be escape tunnels that we could use to get in without alerting the whole garrison."

"Since this was once the Castle of your King did he perhaps send with you a Map? Or are we to guess where this point might be?"

Nain appreciated the man listening to his thought, but still didn't have too much confidence in his ability to lead them anywhere other than their doom. At his young age he'd probably only seen a few battles. A dwarf would barely have broken in his first suit of armor at that age.

The statement jarred Dirnhael out of his reverie. "My friend, you may have something there," he said while stroking his stubbled chin. Though most Dúnedain fortresses were nigh impenetrable, there was always the possibility that some egress point would be more vulnerable. The key, of course, was finding one.

The stonemason that stood on the outskirts of the conversation looked at the dwarf and corrected him, "The castle Eldanar was built in the early part of the Third Age. It was one of the first official landgrants given by Elendil to Eldanar, one of his faithful followers. It became the center of the northernmost county of Arnor, and unfortunately, it was the first to fall into the hands of the Angmarim... in 1325 T.A., as I have been told. Needless to say, the King in Fornost knows very little about the castle and even the heirs to Eldanar who live within Fornost, in 'exile' from their family lands, have little recollection of the castle's layout. In short, we do not know what we will be approaching... the walls and any tunnels may have been altered or closed off."

As he finished speaking, a warning call rang out in the morning air, "Riders! Riders approach from the north!"

Dirnhael and Fengel stood up and craned their necks to look off in the direction warned of and saw four horses trotting in. Two men of unusual colorations and garb were riding before two other horsemen that appeared to be Daelhun and Durgil. As the quartet came closer, it became apparent that the two scouts were in tail of two... prisoners?

A group of four Dúnedain horsemen rode out to meet the incoming riders and follow them in. Dirnhael could see by their expressions and the apparent accolades that they gave to their comrades that Durgil and Daelhun must have come upon a great find. He strode out to meet them as they came into the camp... Edrahil, Fengel, Lûnduf and Nain in tow behind him.

"What have we here?" asked the commander of the Arthedain Host.

With a large, but tired grin, Durgil responded, "I bring you two prisoners my Captain! And behold..." and with that said, Durgil and Daelhun held up three rolled parchments, each had a waxed seal that kept them closed. "It would appear that these men were messengers, but what message they carried we do not yet know."

The two Easterlings were forcibly removed from their steeds and then all of their items were collected and brought to the Host's main fire. There the commanders of the Host began to root through the captured booty to find what they could. Daelhun and Durgil, though tired from their all night trek, still sat and watched with excited expectation.

Dirnhael snapped the first waxed seal and unfolded the parchment; the disappointment on his face became immediately apparent. The letters were written in a language he did not understand...

***

OOC:

The notes are in the language of the Angmarim (actually in that of the Easterlings from Harad). Easterling soldiers were sent to the north by command of the Necromancer (Sauron still working in secret from Dol Guldur) to serve as the elite troops for the Witch-king. The Easterlings, the Northmen and orcs make up his forces.

You guys will need to figure out a way to either decipher the script of the letters or to interrogate the prisoners.

Also, Carl is joining us as Fengel. He has been a long time buddy of mine from Florida and has played a long time at my 'table'. That makes each of our main characters now a PC instead of an NPC... and there was great rejoicing! :lol:  (Monty Python bit...)

[Wiseman]

The night was drawing on him and there was a weariness that he felt all the way to his bones.  "My friends, it would seem that perhaps we should just get the information from these two the old fashioned way."  Daelhun's mind had been drifting all night back to the battle against the Easterlings on the road, and he felt near rage towards these two.

Daelhun sat there, glaring at the two captives, he had better just be quiet, and let calmer heads prevail and come up with a method to get the information they needed.

[Lunduf]

"So anyone know what the messege said or will we have to try to get a translation from the captives ourselves?"

[sdrotar]

Dirnhael had no wish to torture anyone for information, but if it came to that... "No," he thought. They would cross that bridge when and if they came to it.

He had hoped that Edrahil in all his long years may have come to understand this script, or if not his Elven friend, perhaps someone in the party that traveled with them had any such knowledge. If they did not... then they may have to do what he wished to avoid.

He had to know what messages they carried, and what Durgil and Daelhun had intercepted. Perhaps they had bought them all some time - and they couldn't let such an opportunity go to waste.

[cbl62]

Fengel could see his Captain's hesitation in what to do with their new captives, and there was honor in not wanting to shed blood for blood's sake. But Daelhun had a point...were this home, Fengel and his clan would also have ways of retrieving information if it pertained to survival of the whole. He approached Dirnhael and said softly...

"My Lord, I understand your concerns, but our friend may not be wrong here. Even the most willfull of stallions will break if their master finds the right approach. Perhaps a few days without food or water may help our new 'friends' loosen their tongues to translate for us. A full stomach may be worth much more than information after a while...."

[sdrotar]

"My Lord, I understand your concerns, but our friend may not be wrong here. Even the most willfull of stallions will break if their master finds the right approach. Perhaps a few days without food or water may help our new 'friends' loosen their tongues to translate for us. A full stomach may be worth much more than information after a while...."

Dirnhael nodded and looked towards the snow-covered ground at his friend's suggestion.

The two were much alike.
Brothers-in-arms, they were at the start, when they met on the road from Tharbad. Fengel supported him as much as Edrahil had as Dirnhael grew over the long, arduous months from the appointed protector of the doomed Angbor into the leader of men he had since become.

Fengel knew that Dirnhael never sought the position he now held - rather it had been thrust upon him - and he knew better than most of these men how he struggled on occasion with his newfound responsibilities.
Fengel's fierce loyalty to Dirnhael was one of the Dunedain's greatest honours, and he treated it as such when he gifted Cerduil, Angbor's ancestral blade, to the Eothraim instead of keeping it as his own.

He trusted this man to do what was right and noble... and if needed, what was necessary.

Nodding again, he spoke softly, resigned.
"Do what you must. We must know what doom they carry."

[Stefan]

Speaking quietly where the easterlings cannot hear his voice Nain brings up a point.

"A word of caution.  Those easterlings are barely better than orcs themselves.  They'd be as likely to stab their mothers as their enemies. They might have a price but they'd be more likely to lie to us than not no matter how we intend to retrieve the information from them.  I suggest that you keep them seperated until you have a translation from each to make sure they match and they weren't able to make up the same story before you believe anything they say."  

Having said his piece Nain heads back to the campfire and sits.  He pulls out an oilcloth and begins cleaning and polishing his axe.

[sdrotar]

Speaking quietly where the easterlings cannot hear his voice Nain brings up a point.

"A word of caution.  Those easterlings are barely better than orcs themselves.  They'd be as likely to stab their mothers as their enemies. They might have a price but they'd be more likely to lie to us than not no matter how we intend to retrieve the information from them.  I suggest that you keep them seperated until you have a translation from each to make sure they match and they weren't able to make up the same story before you believe anything they say."  

Having said his piece Nain heads back to the campfire and sits.  He pulls out an oilcloth and begins cleaning and polishing his axe.

"That is sensible," said Dirnhael.
"I will be sure to tell Fengel to make it so. Thank you."

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Dirnhael, I'm afraid I'm at a loss here.  I know not much concerning how to deal with captives as I've never taken any before now.  As for this language, my only experience with it is hearing it spoke on rare occasion and that is all," says Durgil.