RP 🎲 RP 36: Redemption

Eäritila moves between Turig and Herugurth. She looks straight into Herugurth eyes, her gaze is calm and penetrating. She sees a shadow and a wrath within him, and perceives that peril will come of it. But she neither blinks nor wavers, and Herugurth felt that more of his heart was known to her than he had a mind to tell. He felt strangely ashamed, and turned away.

Eäritila walked beside Turig, and spoke gently to him. 'I am sorry you feel this way about my kindred in this land. It is true I know little of the ways of man for I have come only lately from the West and, it may be a surprise to you, but you are the first man that I have ever spoken to. But we too fear the Dark Lord, and are chief amongst his foes, and my folk have fought beside Men against him I hear. Will you not tell me something of this land that lies about us? I know it only from the maps I studied ere I came to this land.'

And she looked ahead at the hills rising about them. Thin silver birches grew in clusters about them, their caterpillars dangling in the sunlight, from a carpet of wild white flowers, as birds danced and sang. The old path they were following at times became choked with tangling brambles and ferns, as it ascended the slopes to the higher places above. Crickets leapt from out of their path. At length, here and there the slopes became craggy and rough, and waterfalls sparkling fell into the thick wiry grasses below. As they climbed higher, and at times Eve was forced to lead Windrider, the trees and bushes grew thinner, and although it was summer and the sun shone, a wind blew in from the sea and chilled them somewhat. The ground beneath their feet was wet and treacherous, at time streams formed silver braids beneath their feet. At last, there was little but moss and grass, and rough wet rock, and low cloud blew about them.

Eäritila remembered their name: the Hills of Evendim.

Herugurth chuckled as he walked past Earitila and grabbed the man's hands and cut the bonds that held him. "You have seen what happens to those who oppose us. We are in need of guides in this unfamiliar country and you are in need of your life first and your freedom later.... if you and your friend agree to help us."

Hendrick slowly opened his eyes and felt his head spinnin and going back and forth in unpredictable movements, reminding him of ocasions in which he tried searching for what he had lost in places where conciousness would not guide him, or at least escape the pain of reality. Moments passed before he could actually take notice of his situation an see things clearly, and he saw Turig walking "free".

- What is going on? Where am I? Put me down. - Said Hendrick with the voice of who had suddenly been awoken from a disturbing dream, only to face a disturbing reality.

Caimare noticed that Henrick was coming around so he called to Eve to stop Windrider. Moving to the horse's side he eased Henrick to the ground where he sat, looking blearily up at his captors. Turig made as though to come to his side but Nildadari prevented him. After a short time Henrick declared himself fit to travel, so Earitila re-dressed his wound and Caimare re-tied his hands and as they set out again, Turig noticed that they were about to enter territory he had known very well in his youth..

They were still high in the hills as the evening grew long. It was summer, but grey and drizzly, so the evening was long but gloomy. They began to look for a place to camp for the night along the way.

Earitila was worried more about food. It had not gone unnoticed to her that the hunt of the previous night had yielded nothing.

Her sharp eyes espied a family of rabbits on a hillside. Motioning everyone else to halt, she made her way towards them stealthily. Then with hands that moved with skill and speed beyond even most of her kind, she fired arrow after arrow, six in all. Then she leapt away, and returned, carrying six rabbits, each skewered on an arrow.

'Who's cooking tonight?' she asked.

Caimarë moved to his horse and started going through the saddlebags.
"I'll cook tonight. I need the practice". This earned him a smile from his sister. "That is, if I've remembered the cooking gear". He turned to Maedhros.
"Should we strike camp here, or move on until nightfall?" He looked around. "Here strikes me as a good a place as any."

I shall trust your feelings Caimarë, we will set camp here. We need to regroup and settle for a path to continue the quest. These lands are foreign to me, yet after all these years I can still feel the works of ages past.
I motioned to Nildadari and Eve to bring me the men we have captured. They are brought to me. I have learned that their names are Henrick and Turig.
As I see them, I remember the last battle. The battle of unnumbered tears. We should have won, we could have dealt Morgoth and fatal blow. Instead we were betrayed by men, men that I chose myself, and it resulted in disaster. Our forces were defeated, my kingdom destroyed, my friend Fingon died. It will not happen again.
I stared at them, I noticed that they cannot stared at me for long. I have seen to many things.
"You, listen to me well. You have attacked my party and retarded our quest. In times past, death or imprisonment would be the punishment."
"My guides are in unfamiliar territory, and I need quick and decisive path. You seem to recognize this land better than we."
"My offer is this: guide us and you will be rewarded and watched for. I will count you as one of us. Betray me, and by Ilúvatar himself, I will hunt you down and kill you."
"Our quest is very difficult yet the rewards are very high."
Thou have heard my offer: What sayest thou?

Turig and Henrick stood facing the elf-lord, shifting uncomfortably before his burning gaze. They spoke together in signs and whispers as was their wont when they wished their counsel to remain between themselves.
'Captain...' Turig whispered. 'The elf speaks sense, we could gain much by an alliance with his crew - our freedom not the least. Our band is scattered or else slain - there is nowhere left for us to go but forward...'
Henrick looked closely at Turig, something had been burning inside his young friend for days now, ever since they had entered this land. It was not like Turig to urge any course of action; a willing follower he had always been - even in the darkest of deeds - but never once had Henrick heard Turig give his voice one way or the other. Turig took a step forward to address the elf - Henrick almost gasped - what had gotten in to Turig?
'Lord Maedhros, I will follow you - in exchange for my freedom and the return of my weapons. I know the these parts well, and I fancy my sword arm will serve you well before your quest is run. My captain must answer for himself - but I accept your offer...'

As suprised as he was by Turig's acceptance of the offer, Henrick knew he didn't have any other option at the time. He was still hurt and without Turig he was alone. It had been some years since he had ost his family, and Turig was the only loyal companion he had had since. Henrick then thought to himself: "If I follows these Elves, I can have my wounds completely healed, I can watch and learn to fight better and Turig and I may even stumble across anything of value. And I'll, sooner or later, find a chance to get even with that nasty one called Herugurth".

So Henrick looked deep into Turig's eyes and then said to the Elves: "I accept your offer, but with two conditions. That you take care of my wounded arm as if it was your wounded arm and that you give me back my sword. Tell me, what are your plans for now?"

Caimarë stepped in front of Henrick. "You dare make demands of us, Human? Remember who is at whose mercy here". There was such a light in his eyes that Henrick stepped back and even Turig flinched. Seeing the humans cowed, the Elf continued more gently. "However, your request is not unreasonable. If you are to be of any use to us then certainly your arm should be healed. There is no way you could be fast enough to harm even the least of us, even with your sword; remember that."
Maedhros nodded agreement. After a moment, Caimarë added, "If you were to try something, of course, I am sure Herugurth will be most happy to teach you the error of your ways." At this Herugurth chuckled darkly and cracked his knuckles.
"As for our plans:Maedhros, does this Atan need to know of our plans? Tell him as much as you see fit."

Eäritila stood listening, as the smoke from their campfire mingled with the grey evening air high in the hills. She looked in vain for a star.

She sighed, knowing there was much in the mind of the two men that they did not tell. She looked closely, seeing two that were like fire-flies doomed to burn out within a short span of time, while she would continue through the long years. Surely they should be merry indeed, free in this wild land and so young? But she saw it was not so, and many hurts of the world lay upon them. It was painful to her to behold: it seemed that they were as wounded children, scarred and full to overflowing with a bitter wisdom from many beatings. And she knew their lives would be gone soon, only to be replaced by more again.

And she heard the disdain in the voice of Caimarë, and did not share it. She sighed again, and then straightened herself.

'Come!' she smiled brightly to Henrick. 'I will tend your arm. Better than I would my own, for my own arm would heal faster.'

And when she knew Caimarë was out of earshot Eäritila murmured to him: 'Fear not! I will not let any injustice befall you. Have but the strength in thy heart to remain true to your word, for I perceive your danger. But also your courage.' And she smiled gently.

Henrick did not like the words spoken by Caimarë, and he felt anger building inside his heart. More than anger, he felt diminished. Those Elves had it all, strength, wisdom and time. Henrick could live to have the two first, but he would never live to find the time the Elves to.

It was in with perfect timming that Eäritila came to aid Henrick. Her smile was something very intriguing, although it was just a smile, it seemed to be much more. - Thanks Eärtila - said Henrick in reply, although he did not know how to correctly pronounce her name. Henrick considered saying more, but he took a quick look at Turig and decided that silence would be their best ally for the time being.

That night passed slowly for it was hard to keep the chill of the night air out so high in the mountains. The men slept fitfully, but the elves sat and shared tales, or sang softly. Windrider swished his tail moodily, and steam came from his nostrils. Eäritila found an apple from her pack and fed him.

The night passed at last, and earlier than it seemed, for the nights are short in the northlands in summer time. They set off again after a brief breakfast, and continued westwards.

Now their path was easier, descending more than climbing, as the highest hills were behind them. Then they passed the brow of one they climbed a rough dry stone wall, long fallen into disrepair as though shepherds from times past had long abandoned these parts. A steep slope and crag lay on the other side, and Windrider could not pass. So they kicked the stones out to make a way through for the horse and continued, knowing that the homes of men had once been nigh. Perhaps some yet lived in these lands?

They rounded the crag, and as they did so the sun peeped through the cloud that was now thinning, and shone an beam far across the land at them, and it seemed to dance upon a wide expanse of water that lay ahead. Dark grey and mysterious its tree-line waters seemed to them, nestling in the bowl of the hills, but beautiful too glimmering now in the light. These were the waters of Nenuial, or Lake Evendim in the common tongue. The sun warmed them through as they made their way down the steep slope, and then into the woodlands bordering the lake. Willows stretched out over the waters, and other small trees scrambled up the banks to their right. A clearer path led their feet now as they made their way more cheerfully and swiftly along the level ground, as they made their way along the southern shore. It was a long route today, but at the end of it was Annuminas, which they meant to reach by nightfall.

Eäritila walked in the front of the company, as they sang softly to themselves. But suddenly, they all stopped, and listened intently. There was no noise, not a bird rustling in the trees, not a dear running through the grasses, not a fish on the lake. Herugurth reached his hand down, slowly, to check that his blade was clear in his scabbard. His hand was inches away when a voice echoed through the silence. "Halt, Elf!" Herugurth stopped, and looked around in amazement. Whoever this person was, he had gotten past their elven senses with ease, or so it seemed. The figure dropped from a tree, and landed flat on the path. He looked the company over for a good second, and then blew a great horn that hung from his waist. Another answered in the distance. "Tulie an si men!" shouted the figure on the path. A small blow of the distant horn came in response. The figure on the path turned back to the company. "Do any of you speak the common tounge?" Suddenly Maedhros came out from behind Herugurth, and the man's eyes grew in shock. The rest of the company looked from the tall man to the great elf, there was something there, something similar-although none could quite make it out.

'Verily all here speak the common tongue,' replied Eäritila, though slightly hesitantly as one who does not use it by choice. 'Who are ye who jump from the trees? It is said that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dwelt awhiles by this lake after the ruin of Beleriand and still stone and tree and water remember them and sing their names. Do you live in trees like the Galadhrim?'

Turig had slipped into the shadows as soon as the Dunedain had appeared. Over the years Henrick's band had lost many men to the Rangers of the North. They claimed lordship over this desolate land - and for the most part were as arrogant as those damnable elves. The brigand had little love for them. He could hear their leader talking to the company - always thick as thieves the Elves and the Dunedain. Turig began to fear that the elves would give them away to the Rangers in return for safe passage - it would be just like them. Hells of Iron! He'd do the same in their position...

Turig sank down into the shadows and waited...

"Nay, I am a ranger of the north. I am decendent of the Numenorians, the elf friends of old. I am skilled in moving through the trees unseen and unheard. But nay, the Lady of which you speak is rumoured to live in an inchanted wood down by the great river Anduin. And, indeed she does. I have seen her there. It is said she began dwelling there as a defence against Sauron, but he is gone now... She works now on the problem of the Necromancer of Mirkwood, whos shadow grows every day...." He looked around, his eyes looked strange to be set in the face of the man. They seemed rather elven... "It is the duty of the Rangers to protect the forgotten peoples of the north realm, and to one day deliver the heir of Isildur to the throne of Gondor. I must ask you all, what is your buisness here, and from where have you come. Until then I may not let you pass, by the laws of the Dunedian."

Nildadari had seen Turig slip away, apparently unnoticed by the others. Surreptitiously, she kept an eye on him, though she couldn't understand why a Man should be wary of other Men.

She looked at the Ranger with interest. Though dressed in rough clothing there was nothing in any way frightening about him, rather he seemed have about him almost an Elvish air. She was intrigued.

Turig watched the Ranger with growing unease. Suddenly he felt the edge of a sword against his throat.
"Is this man a member of your company?" A tall, lean man completely covered in a black cloak had emerged silently from the trees. His sword glinted red in the sunlight as he held it steadily against Turig's throat. His stony grey eyes, barely visible underneath his hood singled out Maedhros and gazed steadily at him without fear. "Know you of what kind this man is? I have sworn to rid this land of all such brigands, who value no lives save their own and plunder any house left unguarded. I wonder what would cause High Elves to allow such a foul man to journey with them. Unless you give me good reason, I will not stay my sword."
Although his eyes and hand were steady, his speech revealed his contempt and hatred of Turig and his kind.

Eäritila looked at the ranger steadily: 'This man is part of our company, and therefore under our protection, though he and his friend are merely chance companions, guiding us on the road. A brigand you name him, and so I must ask if he is known to you and has committed some crime. Or do you judge by looks alone? As for our journey, we merely seek passage through to the East, where we seek news of two Grey Elves, kinsmen of mine indeed. Imladris we are making for, and then over the Hithaeglir.'