Keleir walks into the camp from the dim east, a light film of dust covering his clothing. Alone, his steps are unhurried and pauses at the edge of the camp, gazing as the watch-fires kindled during the night are slowly extinguished with the growing morning light. A hand rests loosely around the hilt of his sword and, moving forward once more, he weaves his way through the dozens of tents newly erected, making his way towards the bunker.

Analdin stands near the far east end of the camp, just inside ther perimeter. A fire flickers at his back, illuminating his jet cloak as it waves in the slight breeze. Helmless, he looks to the east and up at the cloudy sky. His arms are folded over his chest, and his posture is rigid and straight.

Sanos keeps to his post, a still, shiverous bit in the air, as he keeps a glare towards the east in the early morning. A kind of shivering his seen in his slumped watch, as he looks quite warry and restless.

Malahir sits on an upturned log, mindlessly chewing on a mutton of lamb. His gaze, silently kept, is on the soldier approaching the bunker. He nods to him, swallowing a bite of his meal with the aide of a cup of cider.

Keleir stuffs his left hand deep within the folds of his jacket, hunching his shoulders slightly to bar against the cold wind that blows at his back, nodding curtly to the two men he passes, one at his post, the other seated and breaking his fast. Approaching a third, black clad man of Gondor, he slows once more, nodding and addressing him, "G'day sir.. is the supply house within the building there?", he motions with hand towards the main bunker. "I've been sent back to retrieve a few items, by order of the man whose command I am under.. Goresgal, if you know him.", he adds.

Sanos nods sleepily towards the man passing.

Malahir turns at the mentioning of the supply house at turns to watch the soldier addressing his Lieutenant. He eyes Analdin skeptically, and seems ready to enter the conversation, placing his lamb on a plate by his feet.

Analdin turns silently at the sound of someone approaching, gize gaze flickering past Sanos at his post. Nodding in greeting to Keleir as he walks over, the orange flicker of the fire beside him throws a harsh cast to his sharp features. The look of exhaustion in his eyes is covered by the shadows cast on his face. "Aye, that 'tis the supply house," he replies, his voice soft and quiet, though with a hard and definite tone to it, "If 'tis Goresgal as sent you, as you say, take what you need. I know him well enough."

As tempting another bite from the juicy bone of lambs meat would be, stands up and stretches his arms over his head, yawning as he does. Keeping his eyes on Analdin and the unknown soldier that has somehow entered the camp, he approaches them slowly.

Keleir nods in thanks to the man before him, and about to continue on to the building to tend to his business, but stops himself and turns back to the man, "You have all but newly arrived from the walled city, no?", he asks casually now, "...Sir.", he adds quickly, inclining his head a little to him and catching out of the corner of his eye, he guard that rises and approaches them as he does.

Keleir nods in thanks to the man before him, and about to continue on to the building to tend to his business, but stops himself and turns back to the man, "You have all but newly arrived from the walled city, no?", he asks casually now, "...Sir.", he adds quickly, inclining his head a little to him and catching out of the corner of his eye, he guard that rises and approaches them as he does.

About to enter adulthood, no sign of a beard graces the face of the this young man with smooth, high cheekbones and fine delicate features. Thick, ink black hair is cropped short in an awkward manner, and intense grey eyes hold an intelligent but guarded look in them. Slightly shorter than the average man, he is dressed in a stiff studded leather jerkin, through which a brown shirt woven from a rough material peeks out. Leggings of supple hides clad his long legs and over all this is a warm dark green jacket, cluttered with an assortment of patches in order to stretch its use through the coming winter months. At his side, attached to a loose belt, rests a longsword of plain design and few signs of wear. Holding himself in a noble posture, he moves with a grace uncommon for a young man of his age, smooth and exact at all times.

Sanos stiffles as he eyes the wandering man speak with his Lt. yet, he keeps his watch to the East to a firm glare.

Analdin keeps his gaze steady and his face stern as he gives a sharp nod in reply, "The setting up of camp is just finished," he says, "We have been here that long in the least." Ignoring the younger man's quickly added "sir," he casts a glance to his approaching aide, though returns his gaze to the scout soon enough, "Was there anything else you needed?" he asks, a bit sharply.

Malahir smiles to the man next to his Lieutenant and salutes Analdin smartly before interupting, "I heard the supply house was mentioned. Could I be of any assistance, I helped the supply officer with the stores yesterday",

Keleir's face remains expressionless, untroubled by the man's stern manner, "No, 'tis all.", he replies shortly with a final quick bow of his head to the man. To the second man, he simply shrugs, "If you will.", and leaves with long purposeful strides towards the building, not waiting to see if the man joins him or not.

Malahir shrugs as he looks at the departing soldier, "I did review the work orders for those new supplies, I checked them off with the wares we recieved. Only a case of tea leaves were missing. I filed them in your pending orders pack, sir. I can go get them for you. Those tea leaves will be much appreciated by the men", turning back to search the young officer's face.

Analdin tilts his head in farewell, watching the proceeding form of the younger man as he heads for the storehouse. A light shrug touches his shoulders, and he falls silent, slightly turning back to observe the empty sky and the east. But, as Malahir begins speaking, his gaze falls on him, "They certainly will be, Malahir." he replies, not allowing his stiff posture and hard features to relax one bit.

Malahir raises one brow, and inquizatively stares into the blue eyes that refuse to direct their attention to him. Sighing lightly he starts his way back toward his morning meal.

Keleir enters the building, slipping through the heavy wooden doors and disappearing inside for quite sometime. When he reappears, it is with a leather sack, full and the not yet drawn closed and as he returns to the two men, he drops it to the ground, bending to look within it. Muttering to himself in what sounds to be the northern tongue, he counts off the supplies, ensuring he has what was required of him and finally drawing the leather flaps closed. Straightening himself, he hefts the sack's single thick strap up over his shoulder to rest across his cross-wise across his chest and makes ready to depart, "My thanks.", he nods shortly to the Lieutenant and the other. "Good day."

Analdin turns back to his contemplation of the general eastern direction, ignoring the sigh of the younger man, and allowing a light one of his own to escape him. However, he unfolds his arms, and changes position, clasping them behind him as he watches. As Keleir reappears, he nods once more, "Not at all," he replies, voice low and cold as the air.

Malahir has turned his back on the activity, but swing around at the muttering he over hears. He eyes the soldier, attempting not appear too curious. "Excuse me. Were you talking to me soldier?".

Keleir frowns somewhat at the man, "Nay.. simply checking the wares I've collected.", he answers, patting a hand on the sack he carries. "And now that my task has been completed, I shall not trouble you more.", he nods to the two.

Malahir takes the arm of the soldier and pulls him aside. Glaring at him he says impatiently, "What is it you just said sir? If I hear correctly, you speak in foriegn tongue that my mother uses to say things she doesn't want me to know. I suspect that you do not mean to deceive the Lieutenant, but I believe it is my right to know what you hath spoken".

Analdin ignores Keleir's last statements, having already turnes back to his silent contemplation. Yet, as Malahir yanks the man aside, he spins on his heel, glaring daggers at the two of them, "He is one of Goresgal's me, Malahir," he says, voice quiet and irrated, "And I doubt he intends any harm whatsoever. That speech sounds familiar to myself as well, but I doubt 'tis your right to pull a man from his buisness and demand knowledge of his tongue."

Keleir's frown grows deeper as the man takes hold of him, his eyes straying down to the hand that rests on his arm. "Remove your hand from me, sir.", he says darkly, adding nothing more as the the man's Lieutenant reprimands him for the action.

Malahir releases his tight grip on the man's forearm and shakes his head, "Lieutenant sir, if I may be so abliged to converse with this man in private, I would greatly appreciate your latitude in the matter", turning back to the man he politely apoligizes, "I'm sorry friend of Goresgal, I only wish to know if the language you speak. It is very important for me to know", staring pleadingly into his eyes.

Sanos ignores the comotion to the rear of his post, as he drags his head, waiting, and always keepin eye to the east.

Analdin lets out an angry breath, and shakes his head slowly, "Privacy is all yours, Malahir, if you wil take your questions away from here and allow me some quiet." With a hard and warning look at his aide, he turns his back on the two, adding over his shoulder, "And if you will report to my tent at noon today." That said, and an uncaring look on his face, he returns to his brooding glaring towards the east.

Keleir shakes arm away from the man as he releases his grasp upon him, taking a step away from him at the same time and casting his eyes from the man's booted heels to his crown in one long gaze of consideration, "I spoke but a few harmless words of the men of the Mark. They are of little importance and they should be no concern of yours."

Malahir eyes the man in front of him with a hurt look, "it is I that mean you no harm sir. I'm sorry I grabed you so suddenly, but my memory flashed to where I've heard like words", offering a hand to shake, "My name is Malahir, son of master Cuthlir of the house Rovacil. And if you'd care to meet with me after your duty with Goresgal, maybe I can tell you how the men of the Mark are more than an idle concern to me", speaking this without ever once acknowledging his superior's words.

Keleir breaths deeply once, releasing it slowly with eyes half shut before meeting the man's gaze steadily, "Your apology is accepted, but it would do you well to consider such an action more fully in the future. As a soldier of Gondor, I am like your kin and willing to overlook such a thing.. but others may not.", he warns. "And whether the Eorlings are concerns of yours or not, surely my few words have little to do with them."

Analdin mutters something about the speech of the Rohirrim and his brother as Malahir's words reach him over the light breeze. Yet, as he said he would not interrupt, he simply remains at his self-assigned post glaring off into the distance.

Sanos stands from his post with a low head and heavy lids as he approches Analdin. He loosly salutes and replies with a slow tone, "Sir, may I have some breakfast, then return to watch?" He trails off with a slight shiver and nod of the head.

Malahir looks from his outheld hand to the man in front of him and nods, retracting his hand back to his side. "All right sir, point taken. It is not that you know the ancient language that disturbs me into barking at you like that, taking a step closer toward the one that speaks the foreign tongue, "How

Analdin gives Sanos a quick nod, "Go ahead, soldier." he says sharply, "I can hold your watch for a few minutes, but I expect you to be back shortly..." With a sharp look to the younger man, he adds, "And I expect you to eat before coming on duty, is that clear?" Anger shines through his eyes, and he looks hard at the guardsman.

Sanos nods, almost to not heed the words of his Lt. as he slowly walks with a drooped head to the food quarters. But before he reaches his point he turns and says, "But Sir, please understand I was on watch since early yesterday eveining and hadn't eaten at all till now, ah well." He then turns drowsily back and grabs an avaliable plate.

Keleir gives Malahir a sidelong glance, "Well enough.", he answers, growing disturbed by the man's continued questioning of him. Sighing, he sends an impatient look to the east, "Sir, is there something you need of me? A translation or some other legitimate business?"

With a hard shake of his head, Analdin calls back to Sanos, "As soon as you get your meal, report here, Sanos." His sharp tone leaves no room for argument, and the growing agitation shines dangerously in his eyes. His eyes are dark, darker than midnight, so unlike the normal clear blue.

Malahir grows impatient himself, shaking his head, "You're a little to late for a translation, I needed that quite a while ago. However, I guess I know that you may help me in that matter should the need arise again", half turning to take his leave, before stopping the man with another request, "In the future, I may not have any 'friends' around to help me translate. And it is very imperative that I am able to recognize the language to at least the conversational level. I am an able student, and if you don't mind meeting me on your off duty hours, I would greatly appreciate a lesson. That is if you don't mind?"

Sanos nods to Analdin, while he is far into his breakfast by now. "I will be there soon Sir!"

Sanos quickly gobbles his hard meat and cider, as he grumbles back to his post, putting his eyes to the familare east once more.

Analdin clears his throat rather loudly, eyes narrowing as he looks at Sanos returning to his post, "Sanos!" he says sharply, voice cold and sharp as the blade in his scabbard, "Did I not say report here?" He motions to where he stands, a good number of yards from where the young man stands guard.

Keleir shrugs back, "I suppose.", he offers without committment. "But I am not of your company.. and I am new to my position and do not expect to have many off duty hours for some time. And at this moment, you are delaying me further, sir." Shifting the pack he carries to a more comfortable position before he departs eastward, he glances at the man a moment longer, "But here is your first lesson then...", he begins. "Learn this and repeat it often...."

Keleir continues in a clear and slow voice, "<UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH>" Nodding one last time, he steps quickly past the man and heads back in the direction he arrived in, steady purposed strides carrying him away in the distance.

Sanos nods his head still stooped, "Oh, hmmmumm, yes Sir, sorry." He thens closes in to where Analdin stands.

Malahir nods and listens to the foriegn words spoken intently, saying them to himself, and then speaking them more loudly back to the busy teacher with a assured smile and he pats the man on the shoulder, "I am in your debt good sir. If there is anything I can do for you, I am at your service. Name's Malahir. And I'll see what I can do about arranging off duty hours for you, yes?"

Analdin watches Sanos hurry over to his position with a narrowed eye, and waits patiently for the young man to reach him, though his booted foot taps the ground rhythmically.

Sanos takes his position assigned and replies with a slight shiver, as a hagard look passes his face, "Sir, you wanted me here?"

Keleir walks east and onto the bridge.
Keleir has left.

Analdin gives a sharp nod, and says quietly, "I wanted to speak with you, soldier," he replies, "How long did you say you have been on duty?" The tone of his voice is much more soft from his previous commanding tone yet not any less dangerous.

Sanos nods, his head slouching, and his lids heavy, "Since early last evening Sir." He then lets out an aimless mutter to himself as he looks very warry.

Sanos +whispers to himself, "This ... ... ... shift."

Analdin claps his hand down on Sanos's shoulder, "Straighten up, soldier." he says, voice again gaining the sharpness to it, "How long has it been?" he demands, his strong smith's grip leaving no room for the young guardsman to move except as he is ordered.

Sanos looks up, suprised in the harshness of Analdin, "Oh I am sorry Sir, since early evening yesterday, or should I say, not a long enough shift, and I can take more?" He adds with a look into his Lt's eyes.

Analdin lightens in his grip on Sanos's shoulder, and he looks into the other's eyes, his own still dark. Totally letting go, he takes a step back, and says softly and dangerously, "I want to see you at attention, Sanos, by the time I finish talking. Now, how long have you been on duty? Give me hours, soldier. Time. And if you want to say it's not been long enough, well, I can certainly make it much longer than you'd wish."

Sanos nods and steps back himself putting himself to full attention, with a fearfull look deep in his eyes he replies, "Yes Sir! 17 hours Sir! since 6 last evening." He ends with a sterner voice and a renewed sense.

Analdin gives an approving nod at Sanos's straightened state, and looks the man up and down, as if in inspection. "Only seventeen hours, soldier?" he asks, looking daggers at the young man, "Think it has been long enough? Is there a reason you have been on duty seventeen hours, or did you just feel like pulling extra duty?"

Sanos slowly replies, "I lost track of time while on watch, I was writting a letter back home and it became as big as a book, as I added all since I left home, Sir."

Analdin allows an eyebrow to rise a bit, "Writing a letter home while on watch? I could put you easily on report for that, soldier..." he trails off, letting his sentence hang. Yet, folding his arms in front of him, he adds, "I care not if it has been since you left home that you have spoken with your family... but in my company, being on duty means keeping watch, not writing. Is that understood?"

Sanos nods and speaks a word in argument then, respectfully shuts his mouth and nods once more.
Sanos says, "May I go back to watch now Sir?"

Analdin nods once, solidly and finally, "Good." he says, in response to the positive reply. Yet, his eyes lighten just a bit, and he shakes his head softly, quite a contrast to his previous nod, "No, Sanos, actually you may not." Beckoning to a guard walking past, he adds, "Consider yourself relieved of duty. When you reach the camp, send Mathirion out here to take over." With that, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the ruins and the approaching soldier.