War footing

[tomcat]

Dirnhael's eyes opened.

Confusion was his first thought, but then he remembered the long night before and all that had occurred. He was stretched out on a cushioned couch, which was quite accomodating, and he noticed that his visible wounds had been bound. Across from him, Fengel also slept on an identical bedding and he too looked as if he had been tended in the night.

The Dúnadan sat up and immediately regretted it as his still bruised body shot wracking pain throughout. He let out a groan and Fengel stirred from the noise. Dirnhael forced himself to his feet and went about finding out how Edrahil was doing.

The Sindar was also awake and looking far better than he had the night (or earlier morning) prior. He smiled as his friends entered the bed chamber where he had been treated, "Dirnhael, Fengel, you are well!" Edrahil's voice was happy but somewhat weak.

Durgil was wakened by a soldier of Ilanin. "Lord of Arthedain, my captain has sent word for you to awaken and come see."

The two men rushed out of the garrison and to the battlements of Ulvanin. Once he had crested the stair, Durgil looked out towards the east. Where the Sagath encampment had been the night before, there was now only a few men milling about packing the final remnants of pavillion poles and tents into a few wagons. Smoke came from piles of rubbish and other unknowns, blowing east with the wind. Durgil quickly looked south and east where the staging area of Harizän's wains were the night prior, and save for the few skeletons of burnt wagons, it too had emptied.

Harizän had started his march west - to war.

Galudir felt a touch of apprehension. The past week he had spent with the Éothraim outriders, ranging the prairies west of Ilanin trying to locate the Sagath army that may be coming their way.

One of the horsemen scouts lay on the ground listening. He lifted his head, "It is a great number of moving men, wagons and beasts... two-hundred at the minimum."

Their job was to find the Easterlings, harry them and lead them back to Thuidmar and the Éothraim host. The rogue did not mind the riding about, but war was not his bailiwick. He always preferred the more subtle approach.

The unit commander spoke, "Saddle back up... be ready - all of you. Let's lead the fly into our trap!"



[OOC:] Courage and health points have been taken care of on your character sheets for the new day and the rest and first aid given.

[Palandil]

Fengel was glad to see their elf friend was alive and, though not his usual self, doing well.  He grabbed his friend by the hand and gave a careful shake, "You had us worried Edrahil."  With that he turned to Dirnhael, "I must see what plans have been made in our absence.  I fear for the lives of my kin that remained in the Easterling camp."

[tomcat]

[OOC:] Hey Paul, what does Fengel want to do? Cross the river? Just go to the river to see what is going on in the remnants of the Sagath camp? Let me know either with an OOC or via story narrative and dialogue.

[Palandil]

OOC: Fengel is first going to find Patrel and see what they were planning.  Then he will make his plea for aid to go to the camp.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Soldier, see that any who are coming to fight are made ready for swift riding.  The enemy is abroad and has a considerable start on us."  May the winds of the West be at our backs, he thinks in silence, a prayer oft given by the sailors of Numenor long lost.  Pondering only a moment longer on the sight before him, he turned to go meet with the captains of Ilanin would go to fight and maybe this Patrel he'd heard of.

[tomcat]

Fengel found Patrel and his men, re-dressed in more common clothing, and readying to leave their hideout. Patrel looked to the Éothraim, "I am off to the mayoral manse. I go to seek audience with the captain of the guard there and find out what plans he makes to stop the Sagath."

Dirnhael, along with a slow-moving Edrahil, also came into the room. Patrel turned his attention to the newcomers, "Take care of your friend. We will bring news."

It was unnecessary for Durgil to go anywhere, for as he turned, Reyvold came up the stairs. "Good! You are awake Lord Durgil." The Dúnadan noticed that the captain had taken to using the honorifics towards him. "It appears our enemy has left us in the night. It is unfortunate, but there would have been no way to rally our guard in time to waylay them. When you are ready, I have gathered my council and we request your presence."

[Palandil]

Fengel grabbed Patrel by the hand, and looked deep into his eyes as he made his plea.  "I have seen the way Harizan's men break camp and I beg you to lend me aid.  There were still some of my people left alive across the river, but if I don't go to them they will be murdered and their bodies desecrated."

[tomcat]

"Then let us all journey there first, Fengel," said Patrel. "I would not see anymore pains to your people within the region of my city, if I can help it. Our hands have been idle for too long!"

The Éothraim could see Patrel's face twist into a visage of embarrassment and guilt. The man had sworn an oath to preserve his city, but within it he had allowed some of the worst atrocities by his inaction.

"Come, we shall go there now. Dirnhael, see to your other friend and if possible, get him to Ulvanin. The healers there will be able to help him even more."

That said, Patrel and a troop of men led Fengel from the house where they had spent the night. The small company ran to the main river crossing and stood on the shores looking across at the smoking emptiness of what once was the Sagath encampment. Patrel called for a bargeman to ferry the group.

"It will be 12 coppers, for you and yer men," said the barge owner. The lieutenant quickly replied, "Sir! You will prepare this barge for crossing my men and you will do it by order of the mayor!" Patrel pulled back his leather jerkin to reveal his colors of station. Though he was on forced leave, the bargeman did not know that, and he quickly pardoned himself and ushered the group aboard.

Once on the other shore, the view was grim. The Easterlings had left the encampment, but the uncovered pavillion frames and posts looked like great skeletons of long dead beasts, and the smoke from burning rubish made the landscape look torn and raped from war. The few remaining workers looked to the newcomers and fear crossed their faces - some went for weapons.

[sdrotar]

"Dirnhael, see to your other friend and if possible, get him to Ulvanin. The healers there will be able to help him even more."

Dirnhael nodded - though he wished to accompany Fengel, his aching body made it clear that he was in no position to argue. He needed to be hale by the time they caught up with Harizan and his men, and he hoped that Edrahil would be able to join him, for Dirnhael relied heavily on his Elven friend's sage counsel.

He clasped hands with both Fengel and Patrel and bid them farewell, then went to thank the healers in the guard station who had done them all a service. After he had done so, he wrapped his arm around Edrahil's shoulders, and the two of them made their way to the fortress of Ulvanin.

To many observers during their short trip, it was often difficult to tell if the Man was holding up the Elf, or the other way 'round...

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil flushed a little at the title of 'lord'; a title to his mind he had not yet earned.  'Of course, lead on and I shall follow.'

[tomcat]

In the garrison, Durgil learned what the town of Ilanin had as far as resources - seventy-five hired soldiers, and a militia, three-hundred strong, that could be mustered in times of imminent danger to the city.

As he and Reyvold discussed numbers and dispositions, another soldier of rank entered the chamber. "So what is going on here, Reyvold?" he asked sharply. "I come back from leave and find that you have suborned yourself to the mayor and town officials... that you have also restricted any sentry to answer to Lord Palagard! And who is this?"

The last question was like a hiss from his tongue. Durgil saw Reyvold straighten a little at the new man's presence and realized that the one outranked the other. The young Dúnadan hoped that Reyvold's will was greater and that he would stick to his oath made the night before.

Outside the garrison, at the main gates of Ulvanin, Edrahil and Dirnhael, along with the remainder of Patrel's men, entered the keep. Other soldiers ran up at first to deter, but then in recognition of their fellow soldiers, gave aid to the two companions that still suffered from their wounds.



[OOC:] I will update Fengel and Patrel once Paul has a chance to post.

[Palandil]

Once on the other shore, the view was grim. The Easterlings had left the encampment, but the uncovered pavillion frames and posts looked like great skeletons of long dead beasts, and the smoke from burning rubish made the landscape look torn and raped from war. The few remaining workers looked to the newcomers and fear crossed their faces - some went for weapons.

"Stay your weapons or you will die!" Fengel barked at those that threatened action.  "What have you done with my kin!" Fengel snapped as he stomped toward the nearest easterling that looked a threat, Cerduil drawn and ready.

[tomcat]

The gathered Sagath were not warriors. They were thin and malnourished, and did not have the heart for a fight with professional soldiers - left here to perform utilitarian functions. They quickly lowered their weapons and then with hesitant motions, pointed to the corral where Durgil and Fengel had found the prisoners two days prior.

Fengel and Patrel ran to the stockade and looked within. Still tied to posts in the sweltering heat of summer, were the few remaining prisoners of Harizän the Easterling. Some were definitely of Éothraim descent, while others looked to be natives of both Dorwinion and other lands east. The Sagath did not discriminate.

Hands were blue from the tight leather thongs that held them and from blood-loss, having been tied above the captives' heads. Lips were cracked from lack of water and those that could, let out whimpers that pleaded for release - be it from their bondage of the Sagath or the hell on earth that they endured.

Once again, Fengel's stomach turned to a ball of ice.

As Dirnhael walked the few yards remaining to the garrison house, he heard a voice call out from the walls above, "OY! Looks like we have people on the other shore now! Might be Patrel and his lads!"

The Dúnadan knew the man was correct in his assumption and he gave a silent prayer for his friend that he not get hurt, but also that he did not lose himself from what he might find.

[GandalfOfBorg]

OOC: Sorry for the absence, the flooding here in Cedar Rapids has been a bit distracting.

"I am Durgil of Arthedain," he said standing tall.  "The men have been summoned here to repel the Sagath invasion, and Reyvold, here, has defied the Lord Mayor in effort to deal with the danger that threatens all the lands this side of the river to the mountains and maybe beyond."

[sdrotar]

OOC: Sorry for the absence, the flooding here in Cedar Rapids has been a bit distracting.

OOC: Holy cow... everything OK?