The Second Servant

"...and she came like a Fury, down from the north, and the land quailed at her coming" - Tome VII "The Legends of the Ironfists", Azanulimbar-dum II 2805

As the leader of the homestead makes his decision, his wife leans forward towards Lochan who is half listening for his captain's response and says:
"This man seems lucky to be alive. It's a shame for the others. Have the Goblin's truly passed on or do you think they will stay nearby? Will there be danger for us here?"

The Ranger replies, calming the woman's fears:
"I think the Goblin's have left the area. They were on the move and we were just very unlucky to have run into them." He doesn't want to give any more away to worry these simple people further so hurriedly changes the subject:
"This man's name is Targon. He is a good and just man. I am grateful for your attendance to him."
The woman nods and lowers her head to attend the injured man, apparently satisfied by Lochan's authority on the matter.

Valdo scrutinises the owner of the homestead for a short while, then shrugs.
"I understand your reasoning homesteader and I know that the laws of these lands are for each Freeman to choose his own path. Thus I accept your decision without comment, though I would personally wish it otherwise."

The homesteader seems unsure of the guardcaptain's reasoning and Lochan notices his hold on the great gnarled crook-staff tighten. The Ranger chooses hurriedly to speak up.

Looking across from where he sits he says:
"Master, it is probable that I will track these Night-scum at some point. I have some skill in such a task but I also know some herb lore; though less than this wise lady it seems. If you wish it, I would be glad to seek out some medicinal herbs or assist you in some other manner. Your help is much valued by us and will not be squandered." With this he bows his head briefly out of respect.

"As for our fallen commrades, I understand that they're not your people and so have no place in tarrying here amongst your folk. I expect that we could reach our settlement by noon. I could return and still have enough time to track the scum-breed, though dusk comes early. I realise the risk that comes with the falling of the grey dusk but they could not have holed up far from the ambush site, for the sun was bright and welcome this morn and they left in a fair hurry."

Still watching the mounted man, the homesteader replies over his shoulder to the young Ranger:
"I have said that we shall look after your injured man and for that we ask little in return. I am grateful for your offer but we are quite self sufficient here if those Goblin's will leave us in peace. No greater service you could do for us than find out where those greenskins are headed and inform us upon your return. Perhaps this man, <he indicates Targon>, will be well enough to join you once more when you come past here once more."

Valdo nods. "So be it. I thank you and your folk on behalf of Lord Mahrdhricks of Buhr Criocha for this service and rest assured that his strong arm extends in protection even as far as this habitation. We will hunt down the Goblin scum and wipe them out one and all. That is the word of Valdo MacNeithin."
With this, the guardcaptain wheels his horse about and gesturing to the Ranger, rides out through the gates of the homestead.

<Within a couple of minutes, the cart and horses have all returned to the road and turned to face north once more. Out of sight of the buildings, Valdo calls a halt.>

"Well, I see we have no choice now but to forego our hunting of the greenskins until these men have been given a fitting burial within the walls of their own village. I cannot risk another of my men just yet in heady pursuit of the Goblin's. Let us make good time back to Buhr Criocha and there inform Raigorn of the situation. We should be able to borrow enough men to take out the entire tribe of greenskins in one swift blow!" The guardcaptain grins savagely in anticipation before pulling hard on the reigns of his horse to break into a trot.

"Wait, Sir!" shouts Lochan. "I have received provisions from the good women of the homestead and our wounds need attention. I have clean cloth here and plenty of water to rinse the grime from our skin. At least wait a while until I can fix our own wounds. It should take no longer than five minutes."

<True to his word, the process is complete within the time. Lochan cleans away the ragged cloth of their dark tunics that are clogged with dried blood and makes swift use of the new bandages, binding both his arm and side with strips soaked in water and the white sap of the Arlan plant. Valdo also receives the same treatment and before long, both men take to the road with the cart once more, heading swiftly north.>

Upon the road, somewhat near two hours later...

Valdo, in the lead, raises his hand to signal a halt. "There is something disturbing me. I cannot place what it could be but I have a feeling of foreboding." After a few moments of scanning the nearby countryside, Lochan has to give in. "I cannot see anything Sir. There is nothing out here except us."

"Even still, we should be on our guard from now on." And with that, the two men move on.

A short while later, as the cart ascends a shallow rise towards the summit of a low open hill, Lochan speaks up to the guardcaptain ahead of him. "I too feel that we are in for some sort of trouble but the signs indicate that we remain alone on this trail. I don't know what to make of it Sir."

"Keep on your guard, Ranger," is all that the other replies, staring intently into the hazy sunlight of far ahead.

As they reach the crest of the slope, Valdo suddenly pulls up sharply as he spies movement ahead. About eight hundred metres ahead, a stand of storm blasted, dead trees mark the way. Beneath them stand a group of horses with riders. They appear dressed in strange garb, and many dark plumes of horse-hair are strung out from the top of their conical helmets by the stiff breeze which blows from the east. Most of the men have spears and a penant flies from one, although the motif cannot be seen clearly. The group appear to number at least ten although it looks like they are part of a larger band as other spears can be seen just above the level of the slope beyond them. There appear to be no outriders and the group appear to be watching the approach of someone or something out of sight of the two watchers.
Quietly, Valdo swears:
"Szreldor!"

*******

"Dont' try and kid a kidder, your Ambassadorship!" replies Meraina sarcastically. She lets go of the one she's holding and pushes him toward his friend. "I will be going now, don't try and follow me or I will not be so kind again. I am not in the habit of doing the job of the local militia for them, so I'm letting you go. But I warn you... if you aided those raiders, you will no longer be welcome in Buhr Criocha.

Meraina begins to back away, ready if either of the two halflings try anything. They don't, but eye her warily as she slinks into the gloom beneath the trees and disappears.

Billy makes very sure that the woman has left the area and listens very carefully for any unusual sounds before he finally relaxes.
"Raddish, we need to get further away from the town. I don't like being attacked like this. Let's see if we can find a more secure place to stay."

After a moment of contemplation he also remarks:
"I really would like to go to a safe place, what do you say to going over to one of the other villages nearby and stay there for a while?"

Raddish thinks back to what he knows of the surrounding area, before replying:
"The nearest settlement is Buhr Lusraig to the east, but if it has been attacked as this village has we may have nearly as many problems there as we have here. Anyway, it's a long way - about two days of walking up and over those hills. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

Billy exclaims tiredly:
"We'll have to walk a long way to get to a relatively safe place by the look of it anyway so what do you want to do Raddish?"

"I too want to find a safe place, but I don't know if there is one within easy reach around here. Any settlement would be nice but I don't know of any others."

Billy digs in his backpack while his companion is speaking, to check the ammount of food he has, and if it's even possible for him to walk the two days with the food he carries. "Hmm...," he says. "I've enough food but I'd prefer not to have to use my reserve; dried jerky is real unappetising after the first few chews," he grumbles.

"It is mighty cold!" confirms Raddish, shivering as a gust of wind makes the dew on the tips of pine needles twinkle and fall onto his hair. He searches in his own travel pack.
"I don't know Billy. I think we have had a lot of luck in this attack. Maybe we should think about what is going on before leaving for good. Maybe we have some information about the Szreldor which would be of some use. Thinking about it, who do you think was the old man who showed us the door, anyway?"

Billy yawns and dreams of a nice soft bed in town, but a spark of interest is lit when Raddish mentions the old man:
"Hmmm... That man sure was very interesting. I really wonder who he was? Perhaps we should stick around just for a few more hours and see what this day brings for us?"
Thinking to their recent flight, he adds, muttering:
"...and at a safe distance from those soldiers too."

"Agreed. We'll stick around for some time... no jokes, no daring moves. Let's try and keep some distance from the guards and gather some more information. I trust in you, Billy. Stealth is your trade. Gathering information from people is mine."

With these words, Raddish winks at Billy and starts packing his possessions, commenting with a half smile, half grin on his face as he does so, "If all goes wrong, at least we have a better chance to find some more food for the travel!"

"I agree." says Billy thoughtfully, wondering what will happen next during this quite eventful day.

<In fact, as Billy's words are spoken, both Hobbits become aware of how silent the forest has become. Apart from the rattling of the pines above them in the breeze and the twittering of small birds, the forest seems once more at peace. Can the Szreldor have truly gone?>

They get up from the fallen logs and, looking over their shoulders for signs of any more female attackers, head back quietly to the edge of the wood and the smoking settlement beyond.>

*******

Coru tries to rise as Relg makes for the door to the house, but falls back as pain lances up his from his stomach. He falls back onto the bed, his shout of "Wait!" being lost in a faint gasp.

"You see," chides the woman sitting beside him. "I am no miracle worker. You will have to aid yourself if you wish to be fit once more for your leader. Impressing him can wait at least a short while."

Coru stares at her, angry, but knowing that she speaks the truth.
"Well, lady. You seem to know a lot about me already," he says agitated. "Do you not fear the look of wild warriors like myself and Relg? We look much like the enemy that has attacked this town and could be as vicious and uncaring if we wished."

"Surely, you look like one of them - on the outside," she says, once more with a cryptic twist to her melodic voice. "But there is a difference - upon the inside. A man may appear how he will but his spirit will always shine through, to those interested in looking."

Before he can answer once more, she offers him a bowl of steaming liquid and tells him to drink. It smells pleasant but sharp. Coru frowns and looks up at her but she just smiles and he accepts the bowl, drinking the hot liquid down. Within a few moments, a lethargic stupour slowly takes hold and the young Gargath cannot help but give in to the feeling of lightness and rest. Coru's mind begins to wander and he dreams...

******

Carefully checking both ends of the road, Relg leaves the low-roofed building and closes the door behind him. The morning sun is not yet strong enough to fight the cool air of the night but at least the darkness has retreated in favour of the new day. Relg puts his shield on his back and takes the bow into his left hand. Before starting to move towards the Inn he stays still for a few seconds, listening and sniffing the air.

Satisfied that no fighting is nearby, he heads onto the main street and slowly descends through the hushed settlement. Sticking to the middle of the road and carefully watching both sides, doors as well as windows, Relg's bow remains half drawn, very much aware that to the locals and militia, he is almost identical to one of the Szreldor himself.

He thinks back to the strange woman, Lorrelinde, glad that she is looking after Coru. After nine months of almost constant fighting, the warband has lost many of its good men in battle, but they have killed a far larger number of the Szreldor dogs.
~These Szreldor won't go far any more! With only a few more men I could hunt them down and make them pay, not only for what they did to my people but also for the losses and death they brought to this village,~ he thinks, venom against the enemy still raging through his thoughts.

******

Arekhel vaguely acknowledges the Dwarves introducing themselves. She still carries on looking as if in a semi-dream, and seems strangely fatigued. When Heladil speaks up she comes more into focus and listens to their words, adding:
"Well spoken, friends! We should find out why the Szreldor are doing this!" when Gwalchmai suggests investigation.

Spotting Heladil's obvious limp she asks:
"Are you all right? You're limping?! Did any of those arrows wound you?"

With a rueful shake of his head and a hand to his face, Heladil answers the Elven-woman:
"No my lady, the only wounds I suffered today were these scratches on my face from a near miss. I suffered an injury to my leg a short time ago when I was attacked by wolves."

Just at that moment Saelvach suddenly slumps into a chair clearly, finding it hard to speak or perhaps to breath. Arekhel, who is near to the man, turns towards him and tries to help. She reaches quickly for the collar of his tunic aiming to free it from his throat.
"How do you feel? Oppressed? Were you wounded earlier? Tell me, I can try to help!"
Then suddenly she notices her actions and stops, wondering: "What on earth is going on with all of them?"
Shaking her head, she mutters in her native tongue:
"Why on earth did I choose to come here!?...saving people everywhere...all my provisions of herbs will get used up in no time!"

As the Elven woman stops, halfway to loosening the high collar of his coat, Saelvach gently lays his hand on her's, and carefully, yet firmly, pulls it away from his neck. Still holding it he turns to face her:
"Thank you," he says in the common tongue. Then in a voice too low for any but her to hear, he adds something in Elvish. Not even Heladil nearby can catch the words but Arekhel pulls away from him a little hastily. Quickly refastening the top buttons of his coat, as if eager to hide what lies beneath, Saelvach rises from his seat as Boldor notices that suddenly his beer tankard is empty. "Hey!" he slurs staring after the man who is already beyond his reach.

Just at that moment a beffudled Balneg comes back into the main room from the rear, rubbing his chin and blinking. His wife is with him.
"Er-hum. Your all still here I see. And...um, so is my tavern. Well...that's good anyway. What's going on?" He looks at Saelvach who is the nearest to him, taking another stool that is out of reach of the drunken Dwarf. The latter, realising that he can't see too clearly sways on his own chair, and clutches the bartop, muttering: "Bloody damn wierdy for'ners. Too many of 'em 'round for my like-<hick>-ing. Can't I get a damned drink 'rund 'ere??"

Balneg seems to be mostly embarrassed of his earlier outburst and particularly avoids the looks of Gwalchmai and Arekhel.

The gambler appears to have regained his composure, either from having drained Boldor's ale or through something that occurred during his exchange with the elven woman. Absently his right hand runs up and down the bow he has with him, as if caressing a lover. His eyes are half shut and he appears to be deep in contemplation. Absorbed in his own thoughts, he snaps back to life when Balneg suddenly addresses him. With a resigned sigh he rises from the tall stool and surveys the others in the inn as the tavern owner, not waiting for a direct response, bustles across the room towards the shutters, flinging each set open to admit bright daylight.

From his position upon a nearby table, Gwalchmai stubs the haft of his spear into a hole in the floorboards while he replies to Froin:
"Maybe you should try to have your audience with that Lord, if he is still around and alive. We might be able to get some information on what has happened from him. Or, we may track and follow the Szeldor troops, to see where they are going!"

Froin looks over at Gwalchmai then at Tewo, slamming his mug down on the table making Boldor jump. "Why didn't I think of that. All this time I have been trying to see the Lord Mahrdhricks and now this happens...His schedule is no doubt ruined because of this, and he might even be looking for people other than his own men to figure this out. This might allow me to see him and talk with him, for business and for information." Froin quickly gets off his barstool and goes to gather what few belongings he has with him. Walking towards the door, Froin looks back at Tewo and the others...then continues to walk out the door and up the hill towards the Lord's house.

"If you don't mind, I'll come with you," says Gwalchmai, retrieving his packs and weapons from the floor. "I am keen to listen to what the Lord will say about all this!"

Spotting Balneg still at work trying to restore some order to his establishment, Saelvach comes to a decision and approaches him. The man gives a small start as the tall Gambler looms over him, engrossed as he is in his cleaning work and not hearing the man's quiet footfalls. Saelvach gives a slight smile of reassurance. In his soft voice he says:
"I'm glad you're well my friend. A shame your fine alehouse has seen better days....Perhaps this might help persuade a passing carpenter to set his tools to work on your roof." With this he pulls his hand from the folds of his coat and presses a coin into the man's hand. Balneg stares at the golden shine of it for a moment before hurriedly buffing it against his leather apron. Laying his other hand gently on the man's shoulder, Saelvach smiles at his surprise then continues:
"I need the benefit of your knowledge in return, however. I seek Valdo, the guardcaptain. I am told he was heading for Diona Dail with a wagon and a handful of men. Which path do you think it likely he took?"

"Well, he was heading south Sir, so I guess the only sensible way would be to take the south road, alongside the river and then over the hills towards Beinn Diomir. Well, when I say it's a road it's just a path really...with wagon ruts and some of it has been...", he trails off thinking hard then blurts out:
"But then if he was on patrol, he would probably turn off that route at some point and then... whose to know where they go?"

"Thank you my friend." Saelvach nods to Balneg, before the tavern owner can think any further and just as Arekhel approaches him from across the room.

"Why do you seek the guardcaptain?"

"I do not see the merits in running off after the Szreldor in our present condition. There are too many, they are well armed and we are few and poorly prepared. Those odds I don't like. But I find it hard to conceive that they will kill their prisoners immediately having risked so much to take them, so we have a little time I think. We need a man who has some experience in military matters to guide us - Valdo."

"But why not speak to the Watch-commander, Raigorn? Surely he is in charge, or if not him then Mahrdhricks?"

"Ah, but I believe Valdo has the young tracker Lochan with him. Not that I imagine it will be difficult to follow the Szreldor path but a man skilled in the ways of the wilderness will aid us greatly. Our advantage now is knowledge of the terrain and surprise; with Valdo and Lochan I'll wager our chances to be a deal better in this endeavour, and I prefer to have the odds as much in my favour as possible..."

"Besides," steps in Heladil, "Raigorn will no doubt have a lot on his plate with all the wounded and dead within these village walls, to have time for such a chancy endeavour."

Gwalchmai has stopped to listen on his way out, then adds a comment:
"Well, that is what I intend to find out right now." And with this, he leaves.

"Hmm. Well, either way I'm going to rescue my horse that someone around here seems to have freed." The tall Gambler strides purposefully past the assembled group and out of the backdoor.

<As both Gwalchmai and Froin step outside the Inn into the dawn air, they see a man coming down the street towards them. He carries a half cocked bow and appears ready to use it but what is most striking about him is his clothing.>

Gwalchmai reacts immediately by raising his axe shouting for those nearby: "He's a Szreldor!"

Froin reacts differently and quickly tries to grab ahold of the great Northman.
"Stop...there has been enough blood shed this day. If there is a way to keep more from being drawn then I will...put your weapon down and let us see what happens. A Szreldor wouldn't be walking these streets after what happened...Let us wait."
Looking down to make sure his crossbow is still ready, Froin looks up at the Szreldor. "But be ready..." he adds, continuing to walk slwoly towards the man.

When the two of them are within six metres, Froin stops and speaks to the Szreldor before him: "It is not wise to be walking around town in that garb after what has happened today. Speak your business...and pray that you speak truthfully."

The man, with his left arm, lowers his bow slowly and raises his right hand with the fingers wide apart, the sign of peace among his people. "Peace, brave warriors! My name is Relg of the Fist and I am here to fight the Szreldor. My business is nothing else but to destroy the warband who raided your village. I am here to seek men who can't accept this senseless murder either. Can I assume I have found two?"