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Date Posted: 19:02:25 03/24/03 Mon
Author: Most characters
Subject: Inside the fortress
In reply to: All characters 's message, "The Challerain Episode" on 19:38:06 03/13/03 Thu

While Hrosmarshal Vidron of Valon, and Prince Igon helped the wounded soldier to a room, they were met halfway by a page with a sleepy healer in tow, nightcap still a-perch his head. But all sleep fled from his eyes as he examined the gash on the warriors arm as they continued. "Vulg bite?" The healer's voice was startled. "Foul news. We must get this warrior to a cot." Steely grey eyes of Vidron glanced at the healer with a look that silently said What does it look like we are doing? The healer continued, "The fever has begun, and we need blankets, hot water, a poultice of gwynthyme, and...." His voice sank into mumbles as he rummaged through his healer's satchel. As they passed pages by, Vidron sent them scurrying to fetch the healer's needs.

Following behind the healer, the Prince, the Kingsgeneral and the soldier, came Adaron. He followed them to a door and into a small round room where there was a divan, (a large couch without a back or arms and is often designed for use as a bed), and a fireplace and several chairs. As Haddon, the soldier, was about to be set onto the divan Adaron removed the warrior's cloak and armor, jerkin and padding were removed as well, and then he was made to lay down, though he protested that he was too grimy for the couch. A page bore in hot water and the healer laved the wound.

Leila and Talar had been following behind the troupe that was caring for the injured soldier. Before they had left the banquet hall she'd had enough grace to remove most of the things that jingled from her body, though there was little to be done about the row of coins sewn on to the bottom of her top and the glass beads that tinkled merrily against each other in her hair. She hugged the great scarlet cloak loosely around her form as it fairly swallowed her whole. Adaron was a good eight to ten inches taller than she, and was of much broader build. Worried eyes glanced to Talar. "Will he be all right?" in a barely audible voice.

At Leila's question Talar stepped close to her, keeping his voice low. "If the gwynthyme arrives quickly enough. It is yet far from dawn, which would also rid his body of the poison. There is a saying, "Vulg's black bite, slays at night." And true it is. Though, as I said before Adon's Ban is a cure to the sickness. Are you warm enough?"

Haddon, now laying on the divan, looked up to the only woman in the room and a small smile came to his lips. "Ah, my Lady, I saw you upon my entering of the Feast Hall. Radiant did you look, and were it other times, I would have wished that I could have witnessed your dance." The soldier's spirits seemed to visibly brighten upon the realization that the beauty who he saw dressed in purple, now cloaked with scarlet, stood in his company.

She sighed softly, watching the felled warrior, pulling the cloak a little tighter against her skin. "I am warm enough," she said quietly. Knowing she was the only female in the room, it was obviously to her the warrior spoke. Leila turned her head then and smiled. A glance to Talar was given before she turned completely and walked to kneel on the side of the divan where there was no one fussing over the man. She took up the soldier's hand in her own then. "I thank you m'lord, and at the end of this war, perhaps I shall dance again, though I will make sure that you are present." Her voice was smooth, almost hypnotic in nature. If nothing else, she could offer comfort to this man that had rode so bravely to his king.

Adaron offered a glance, a small nod and even a hint smile to the gypsy before he backed away from Haddon and turned, whispered a word to Vidron and headed out the door.

Talar, not wishing to sit, turned and moved towards the wall, just what one, cannot be said, for it is a circular room, yet it was a wall near the door. His arms were limp at his sides as he waited silently.

Yet it was Igon would who speak up next before the warrior got a chance to respond to Leila's gracious offering. He stepped up to the soldiers side, gazing down at him. And though he worried, the young Prince did well to hide such, as one of royalty must often do. "Gelan, is he well?" He asked.

"Aye, my Lord," answered Haddon, pride in his voice. "He has the strength of two and the spirit of ten. And cunning he is, clever as a fox, for many a trap of his has the foe sprung to their woe."

"Does he say when he might return?" Questioned the young Prince as he glanced at the healer who filled a basin with water, exchanging it for the one now tinged red with blood.

"Nay, Prince." Haddon’s brow now beaded with sweat. "He harasses the Horde's flanks, trying to turn their energies aside. Yet there are so many, and he now has less than a hundred in his ranks. We were sent to spy, not to thwart an army, yet I do not think he will flee back to the Keep."

Leila released the warrior and stole one of the cloths from what had been brought to the healer. It was dipped into a basin of water and then rung out. She fanned it beside her until the water turned cool before she folded it long. Her hand lifted and pushed back the soldier's hair that clung to his forehead and then placed the cool rag over the skin, taking his hand once more.

The door opened and in strode Aurion, followed by Adaron. Adaron stepped to the healer's side to speak quietly with him while Aurion pulled a chair to the side of the couch and sat. "How many does Drego send against us?" asked the King, peering into the Haddon's face, now flushed with fever.

Haddon, who had returned his eyes to the woman who held his hand at his bedside, now slowly turned his head so that his dark chocolate eyes could focus upon his King. "Sire, they are without number," answered Haddon, his voice weak and falling toward a whisper. A shudder of chills racked the scout's frame, but his low voice spoke on! "Sire, the Ghola....Ghola ride in their ranks."

Talarin, who had been leaning against the wall suddenly straightened, his eyes wide as he took a step towards the soldier, his lips pinched tightly together.

Adaron, who had been speaking with the healer suddenly turned his attention to the sickened warrior, his own eyes widening. "Ghulka!" His voice came low and his countenance was grim.


Leila slid her thumb over the back of his hand, the other resting upon the cloth on his head, not thrilled that his fever was getting worse. Her hand stroked through his hair and she sighed, glancing then to Talar and Adaron, gauging by their reactions this news was not welcome at all.

It was Vidron now who spoke, and to Leila. "Captain, by your look I feel that you know naught of the Ghola."

She glanced up to him then. "Hrosmarshal, by your tone, I feel that you are going to tell me of them." It didn't sound snippy, she just sounded...tired and probably a little scared.

He nodded once. "Indeed, for you must know what you will be up against. What we all will be up against, for this foe is dreadful." His hand lifted as he stroked his silver beard, thinking deeply. "Man-height they are, with lifeless black eyes and the blanched skin of the dead. Dire in combat, virtually un-killable, they take dreadful wounds without bleeding or falling. Lore has it that in but a few ways can they be slain: a fatal wound by a pure silver blade, wood driven through the heart, fire, beheading or dismemberment, and the Sun. Skilled with weapons they are, and cruel beyond measure, often using tulwars and wickedly barbed spears. They ride to battle mounted upon Helsteeds, horse-like but with cloven hooves and hairless tails." He then fell off into silence, continuing to think, yet he was finished.

Adaron spoke up then, coming over to stand at Vidron's side. "Indeed, yet also they can take damage from 'special' blades."

The healer came with a goblet containing a sleeping draught. "Sire, he must rest, else he will die. And we must sear the wound, for he will fall into foam-flecked madness otherwise. A poultice to draw the poison is needed, lest it run wild through his veins, if it does not so even now.

Leila glanced up at Adaron and Vidron and sighed, "Você começou cagar mim...." (You’ve got to be kidding me.) it didn't sound like it would be very lady-like if they knew what it meant. Her eyes turned then to the healer, and then to the warrior, whose hand she still held.

At a nod from the King, Haddon was held up to drink the potion. The warrior's eyes slowly glazed over, yet he roused long enough to beckon the King unto him. When Aurion had leant down, Haddon whispered faintly to him. Then the soldier closed his eyes and he said no more.

"Sire, what said he?" Asked Igon.

Wearily the King turned to them. "He said, 'Rukha, Lokha, Ogrus."

Adaron who had moved to stand near the fire now was walking away from it to Haddon, a glowing dagger in his hand from the fire.

Talarin hurriedly stepped up behind Leila and gently eased her up from the stone floor, backing her away from the messenger.

Leila released the soldier's hand then and stood up, smoothing the folds of her pants. The cloak was drawn around her again tightly and she turned away from the warrior because she would not be able to bare watching that hot knife sear the man's flesh.

There came a cry and the sound and smell of searing flesh as Adaron set the ruddy dagger to the Vulg wound, while the healer prepared a gwynthyme poultice.

Green and gold eyes closed tightly, her fists clenching so tightly that her nails bit into her flesh, blood seemed from between her fingers and fell in heavy drops upon the floor. She felt so horrible for the brave knight and would have taken his pain herself if she'd had the option. He didn't deserve that pain.

A quick glance and unspoken words were passed between Adaron and Talarin. Talar stepped up to Leila and gently place an arm about her and guided her towards the door. Reaching it, he stepped to the side and clutched the ring, pulling the door open for her, before gently urging her out, he behind her to shut the door upon his exit. "Do not fear for him Elendil."

She exited as he guided her and then wiped her eyes with the back of her hands so she didn't bloody her face. Finally, the young gypsy turned to look up at Talar. "I do not fear so much as I ache. I would gladly take his pain if I could. He has been so brave and true to his cause, he does not deserve to suffer so." And even as she spoke she was unable to catch the tears that fell before they had already slid down her cheeks.

The oaken door behind Leila opened and out stepped King Aurion, followed by Igon, Vidron, and Adaron. As the King passed a hand was set to the woman’s shoulder. As Igon passed a small reassuring smile was given, appearing to be the possible exact likeness of his father when he was Igon's age. As Adaron passed Leila his eyes first passed over Talar. Then as he came to Talar's side his ocean gaze shifted to the weeping elendil. Time seemed to slow as a long stride carried him behind his Kith. Never did his gaze leave that of the woman’s, his face void of all expression and emotion. Then with a slow blink his head was turned, his gaze shifting to the corridor before him, as he moved along in the group. Vidron passed, and steel eyes appeared to be deep in thought as fingers lifted to run along his silver beard at his jaw line.

She sighed softly once they had all left. "And then he breaks my heart even moreso," said softly as she glanced up to Talar. "I have been so foolish. Maybe I should not go to the war council. I know naught of war, only how to fight. And this..." she held up her finger after she had collected a tear from her cheek. "What is this weakness that is so freely shown? How have I come to this? I have stared death in the face without shedding a tear and now I crumble at the thought of..." she shook her head, pushing the beads out of her face. "...losing him. I fear not for me, Talarin, but for everyone else. My life is worth nothing, and yet all these brave warriors are going to die, and High Adon help me if something were to happen to you, or to..." another shake of her head. "And here I go again. When did this happen? When did I start caring about everything?" She threw her hands in the air in defeat. "Bah! I am going to change. I am not going to show up at the war council meeting wearing this. Captains do not wear frilly, translucent pants." But hadn't she just said she wasn't going? She turned then to stalk off to the barracks. Such giant emotions for such a small person.

She would not get off so easily. With an easy leap forward Talarin caught up her arm and spun her about. His expression was not to be mistaken for anger, but intent. He stared at her for a long moment, before taking a step back, his head shaking thrice in empathy. "Do not mistake compassion as a weakness, elendil. And when the Horde comes to Challerain Keep, do not fight without hope. For if you are to do just that, it is better that you accompany Lady Astariel on the wagon train. You are a light among the Men here, and for you, one of such bright and melodic spirits, to despair; would only spread that plague among them." He paused for a moment, taking a slow breath. "You are hear for a reason, my friend. If naught for your skill, then for morale. I will be honest with you. I do not pretend to know why King Aurion has allowed you to stay. There are other women of your skill but he must see something in you, as did Vidron...." He stepped close to her then, his voice lowering, intensifying yet surprisingly soothing. "as do all that dwell in Eldamar." A light smirk now fell upon his lips as he took a step back, gazing at the one nearly drowning in a scarlet Elven cloak. "Go change. Yet take heed..." And the smirk seemed to grow, spreading from ear to ear though he tried to mask it in a futile effort. "the council is not to meet until the marrow." For he knew she was worried that it was tonight.

"Then I shall save changing for later. He is not getting his cloak back just yet," she said with a laugh and then snuggled down in it. "It is far too warm and comforting for me to be willing to give it up just yet." And then to address the rest of the conversation. "If so many see something in me that I do not see, I can only pray that I do not disappoint them." A shy smile then. "Was it so obvious that I almost kissed him?" shifting her weight so that the beads in her hair chimed merrily.

He turned her then, along with himself and began to walk with her in the opposite direction that the others had gone. This was the corridor that would take them from the Old Fortress to cross the Kingsgrounds to come to the barracks. "It appeared to others, I am sure, as part of the dance."

"But you knew better?" as she was escorted along.

"I suspected as much. Yet now I am sure of it, for you have just told me so." He gave a sidelong glance to her, flashing a teasing grin.

She just laughed. "Do you think he knew it?" Making a bit of a wider step so that she could bump into him with her hip, which wasn't all so hard; it had already been made obvious that she could do several things with her hips that seemed far from...natural.

Talar was hardly thrown off balance, as the Elves possessed extreme grace. Yet at her nudge a clear ringing laughter came from his parted lips. "I am positive that he knew. Our kind has a way of sensing such strong emotions." He was jesting, of course, yet he said it with amazing seriousness.

She stopped in her tracks. "Please tell me that you are not serious. I would absolutely die if he ever found out. That is one of those things I intend to take to my grave with me!" She had paled considerably for someone of such dark coloration. "Those men were right about one thing, an elf would never feel such for a human, I can never let him know my heart, Talarin. Surely you understand that. I could not take the heartbreak that would bring." She blushed a bit then. "He is...everything to me. And I am...nothing to him. It just..." she laughed softly. "It is asinine this love I possess, but still, it is mine, and I embrace it."

He stopped as well, his head turned so that he may look at her, being a few steps in front of her as he was. He turned about. "I am not serious." He informed her simply. "Those men were not right about even one thing. There have been times that an Elf has felt such for a edainme. Yet, Elves often tell their offspring to never do such, for ever after, they shall live with heartache and grief after their loved one passes. Though that has not stopped a few, and now they live with that loss and emptiness."

She tipped her head and looked at him. "I would never wish that upon him. He is so proud and beautiful, Talarin, I could not be the one to break his heart." A light smile given before she skipped up a few steps and tapped him. "You, my friend, are it!" and with that she took off running the rest of the way to the barracks, whether he followed or not, she didn't care, and it was quite amusing to watch her run with that cape billowing behind her. It probably slowed her down, though she was a quick little sprite.

"I am what?" A confused look fell upon his face as he watched her dart away? His voice lifted as he called to her, taking up a jog. "What do you mean? What am I?" He did have to grin as black locks and scarlet streamed before him. He picked up the pace, the door was near, and would easily catch her before she opened it or even reached it.

"You are it...that means you have to either catch me, or make someone else...it." Giggling. But alas, she ducked not into the barracks, but into another building, slipping in and pulling the door quickly shut behind her. Breathing heavily green-gold eyes adjusted to the low light. There were stairs going up, stairs going down, and then a corridor. She chose to go down...wherever that would lead.

"Who made up that rule?" He called to her as she disappeared around a corner. Silently he jogged forward, coming to a halt outside the door that she had sneaked into. Silently he stood, listening. Well, he could hear nothing, so resorted to looking down to see her tracks head into the building. His gaze lifted then, skyward. She had made her way back into the Old Fortress. The door opened and he stepped through the portal, tugging it shut behind him. Again he listened while eyes drifted to the ground. Wet boots had recently traveled into this hall and gone downwards. He followed.

But once he got far enough down, he would find the steps had disappeared in mid-step...where had she gone? There was only one answer--up. If he did remember when they first met she often took to the trees and now was no different. She had hauled herself onto a narrow support beam and followed it elsewhere to escape him, the only problem was, where? She had dropped down behind another wall, though was well regretting it once she had. There was barely enough light for her to see there and she had to leave a hand upon the wall as she crept though the dimly lit corridor.

His gaze had drifted up and a light laugh sounded. "Elendil...I am returning to the barracks. Rest is needed for the days ahead and I would hope that you would do the same." He turned and began to make his way back up the stairs towards the door, calling out in a singsong voice. "Namaarie...." He was met by an oncoming Elf and the Elvish language continued to flow as the two made their way out of the Old Fortress, Talar, explaining in Elven who he was talking to and this ridiculous game that Edain played.

~*~


Talarin was just mad because he was it. She was convinced. Either way, she was not going to say anything back and finally ventured from dim to completely dark. It was cold, which told her she was going further into the fortress. Perhaps though she was coming closer to the outside? She sniffed the air to see if she could smell water, or fresh air. Nothing, so she turned and continued in another direction once she'd thoroughly spooked herself by kicking a rock which bounced off the walls and echoed against the stone walls.

The stone walls of the Old Fortress repelled all sound that threatened to pass through the barriers. In the dark her hand would come to brush from stone to wood, indicating a door that led from the seldom used passage way. It was a heavy door but the only one that led out of the passage, for five feet further up there was the end of the passage, another stone wall, water trickling down its face.

She cursed softly in her native language before she traveled back to that door and pushed it open with all her might, and it took quite a bit to move the heavy door that was so rarely used. The hinges creaked and groaned but finally the door gave way and led her...where? Into more darkness. She could not go back, there was no way out of the passage. Nothing for her to pull herself up to get to that rafter that had led her here, so into the darkness she plunged, pulling the scarlet cloak tightly around her. In the silence each of her steps seemed heavy, the roar of her blood pulsing in her ears. She did not like the dark. The beads in her hair chinked together every now and then, causing her to jump when they struck suddenly. Leila was blind here, her hand resting against the wall as she walked onward, unsure on if she were moving up or down.

High pitched squeaks often sounded before her. And one of the furry vocalists was too stubborn to move out of the way of a foot that came crashing down upon him. A loud squeak erupted as the little beast was nearly crushed to death.

"Gah!" she hopped backwards and gave a full body shudder. "Sorry little guy..." It was best not to anger the rats, they had feelings too you know. And so she continued on, though was a bit more shaken up. She wanted out of there and heaven help her if she ran into anything bigger than rats.

Probably cursing in his little rat language at the fat giant, the creature hurried off to nurse his wounded body. She would come to another door, though the corridor still continued on. Unlike the stone walls, the doors did less to hide voices and if one listened silently, their ear to the door, one would be able to hear the clear, enchanting, almost haunting sound of a crystal voice in song on the other side of the door. The passage way she was in was originally intended as an escape passage out of the Fortress to the Kingsground and the world without for the Royals. With Gelan residing currently in the Everdark, High King Aurion had placed Adaron in Gelan's chambers, keeping him close at hand should he need him.

And she paused there, crouching down beside the door to listen to his song. It was easy for her to recognize his voice. Her back rested against the stone wall and her eyes closed in the pitch black darkness, blocking out everything but the sound of his voice. She was terrified to even breathe less he hear that she was there. It was a shame that there was no conversation of importance to hear, but his singing was well worth the chill setting into her bones.

Suddenly the song was cut short as a rapping came at the chamber door. Silence ensued. Then the opening of a door. Elvish words were passed back and forth and it seemed as though the voices grew in strength, and perhaps the one at the door entered. The other voice was easy to recognize. The Elf that had met up with Talarin was actually looking for him. Yet what was said it not known, for the words came quickly and fluidly from the mouths of the Elvish veterans.

Well, this is fun, she thought to herself. She really needed to brush up on her Elvish. What good did it do her to eavesdrop when she couldn't understand a word of what was being said?!

For long moments did the Elvish language come yet for reasons unbeknownst to any listening... Talarin switched over to the common tongue in mid conversation. "What is that you remove from your hair?"

Adaron’s voice followed, yet still speaking in Elvish.

"Ah, so you saw her then? Is she reluctant to leave?"

She could have groaned right then. Now she knew exactly who they were talking about. Leila was not a stupid, nor unobservant human. She had seen the way Astariel had acted around Adaron and had been none too pleased about it. Perhaps now some questions would be answered if she were patient...

Talarin responded in Elvish and more conversation passed between the two companions for a few minutes before the common came once more.

It was Adaron who spoke. "I will return it to her after this dark time if I do not have the chance to pass it on to Lord Mallorn."

"I am sure that it would have gone to him had he been here," Talarin replied.

Leila was nothing short of utterly confused. Maybe Adaron wasn't courting the elven princess? She could only hope that was not the case, but had no reason to think otherwise. They spoke not of her. Wiggling her toes she realized she couldn't really feel them. That probably wasn't good, but she wasn't done listening.

They two within the room were quiet for a moment before Talarin suddenly spoke up, chuckling as he did so. "Leila attempted to play a game with me. She tapped me on the shoulder and said I was it. What it is, I am not quite sure. But apparently I was supposed to chase her then and tap her and call her it."

Another chuckle could be heard, this one coming from Adaron, and it seemed that he was just on the other side of the door. "Mayhap it is the pursuer." There sounded a light scuffing at the bottom of the door.

She froze. Oh for Ancient's sake! He was going to find her here. It couldn't happen, oh no. She didn't know where to stay perfectly put and hold her breath or try to sneak away. She knew if she moved he would hear her steps so she didn't move, didn't breathe...maybe he was just standing by the door and had no intention of opening it.

Again the scuffing sounded, though moving downwards for he had been leaning against the door, his foot upon it and now he moved away from his, his voice growing further away bit by bit. "The young Prince's party was enjoyable."

A slow leaking of air from her lips, for she feared giving a relieved sigh. Enjoyable, mm? Curious now as to what was more enjoyable, the princess telling him how handsome he was, or the fact that she'd almost kissed him. Her cheeks flamed at the very memory. Stupid stupid girl, she could not believe she had come so close to...a mental shudder. There was much to be said for self-control.

"Ah, indeed. Was not Leila's dance wonderful?" Asked Steel-Ring.

Adaron had nodded, but that was obviously not seen. "She should be proud of who she is. Of the Edain, hers is one of the more beautiful dances I have seen." He then continued to speak on whatever he wished in Elvish, whether it was the topic of the dancing gypsy, or else, is not known.

Mental mutter. One of these days she was going to be fluent in Elvish and they would rue the day! She pushed herself oh so slowly into a standing position then and wrapped the cloak tighter around her. 'twas almost time to move on and find her way out of here less she be so sick by morning that she could not move from her bed.

Talar was now speaking and seemed to be heading out towards the way he had come in. Adaron’s voice joining in here and there as they spoke between them. Then the door shut, and there was silence. Not a sound came from within the room.

She waited for the space of probably five minutes, all of her joints aching from the cold, and still no sound came from within the room. Her palm rested on the door and she pulled it back towards her and slipped within. The hood of the scarlet cloak had been pulled over her head to hold her beads in place. The door carefully shut behind her and then she turned to face the room with a heavy sigh of relief as the warmth of the room rushed around her...

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