Role Play Log of . . .

This log, recorded by Landromir/Imrahil takes place the night before a battle in Osgiliath against the hated Mordain spawn. This being the first battle in almost an IC year since the ill siege of Pelargir ended when that fair city was put to ruins and nearly extinguished. This too is the second installment recorded concerning the Plot of Ravenwyr and the Court of Denethor. The log was taken on May 31st, 1997.

Osgiliath:

Western Ruins - Gondorian Garrison(#16245Rahnlto)

Amidst the ruins of the former splendour that was Gondor's capital of old is a fully-operational battle camp. At least a dozen tents are scattered around the ruins of the city here, each flying a small pennon of the White Tree on a black field that flaps in the daytime breeze. Guards in similar livery patrol the area here, dressed at all times in shining silver mail and with Halberds on their shoulders.

The guards here seem very uneasy, though they try to hide it...their gazes cannot help but hover eastwards, to the black wall of the Ephel Duath and the dark land that those mountains enclose.. Even on a cloudless, sun-filled day such as this, a dim haze seems to hover over the mountains to the east...a haze that darkens as you look further and further into the skies of the black land. Perhaps it is your imagination, but you fancy you see a dull red glimmer on the eastern horizon...

Contents:

Small Campfire

Group of Scouts(#24931OaeM)

Scout Encampment(#4399OXeM)

Obvious exits:

West leads to Osgiliath: Western Ruins - Old Merchant Quarter.

North leads to Osgiliath: Northern Ruins - Old Residential Area.

Fortification leads to Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification - Main Bunker.

East leads to Osgiliath: The Great Bridge - Western Section.

Johivin has arrived.

Celebhir has arrived.

Celebhir comes out of the tent encampment and looks around.

Johivin steps out of the tent after Celebhir and follows him outside.

Landromir exits the fortification looking about slowly.

Landromir takes a position next to the entrance of the fortification and lays his hand upon his blade.

There seems to be more armored men around the garrison, but no face close enough to see is familiar. Cele sits down at the small campfire near the scouts small section and sits down.

Landromir is quiet as he stares bleakly eastward toward the bridge. Another guard comes and stands next to Landromir he says, "I heard you were at the council yestereve?" Landromir nods, "Aye verily." The guard then asks, "Is it true then? That it shall be the hammer and the anvil?" Landromir nods, "Verily, though the scouts will put themselves in grave estate to lure them hence."

Celebhir listens to the bits of conversation he can hear, as he pokes at the fire. His face is shadowed by the hood, and his expression can not be seen.

Boromir arrives from within the outpost building.

Boromir has arrived.

The other guard then questions, "How do you think they shall lure them then?"

Celebhir listens to the bits of conversation he can hear, as he pokes at the fire. His face is shadowed by the hood, and his expression can not be seen.

Landromir shrugs, "The scouts know the ways of those fell creatures as well as any man might. It might be taunting... or a broken retreat. It is of little to my mind, for they shall do the job. I only desire battle and vengeance for the sins committed to my people." Landromir smiles, "Even so, gladly shall I die for my land."

Boromir steps from the fort, shading his eyes from the clear summer sun which shines high in the sky above, his mail and helm glittering in the light. Behind him come some few officers and men of war, who quickly hasten to disperse amongst the crowded encampment, leaving Boromir alone and unattended for the present.

The guard smiles, "As would I but..." He pauses and says softly, "Peace, the Captain hath come!" Landromir straightens himself not wishing to bother his Lord though he keeps an eye on him to see if he shall be needed.

Landromir shifts a bit uneasily and then moves straitways to Boromir. He kneels before him.

Boromir's eyes drift over those present within the camp, and he nods to some who offer him greeting, never speaking to any. But at last his gaze falls upon Landromir, who has come before him, and he smiles and motions him stand. "Arise my friend, and let us speak. The day holds with it a dark gloom, and I have need of distraction."

Landromir rises and looks troubled, "I fear my mind is gloomy itself and indeed my thoughts are far away from the merry fountain of the citadel where I committed myself to you."

Boromir sighs and nods, "Such is it with war, drawing ever the mind to that which is ill, but here at last I feel at home. My place is ever upon the lines of battle, not the proud walls of Minas Tirith which constrain me."

Elbarad arrives from within the outpost building.

Elbarad has arrived.

Landromir nods and says, "But my own eyes are turned inward behind our lines. And there, oh for pity, I see perhaps something that indeed fills me with doubt and dread."

Boromir stands speaking quietly with Landromir, and no others are near.

Celebhir takes his quiver from his shoulder and starts to check the arrows, their sighting and the feathering.

Elbarad steps out from the interior of the fort. He makes his way amoung some of the younger guardsmen, chatting and joking with them, trying to raise ease their unspoken fears.

Celebhir sits at the campfire by the scouts emcampment, alone for the moment, and using the time to check his weapons.

Boromir blinks at these words and raises a brow to Landromir, "Truly? Then speak further on this, for I would know of this which darkens your spirit and that is here within the borders of Gondor. In these dark days despair stems ever from the East rather than the West."

Landromir leans forward and says in a soft, almost inaudible voice, "Long have I been troubled since my wife and I have settled in the fair city. Yet even so, I fear that there may be some of more questioned loyalty. Indeed I saw it as such even as you counsel yestereve though I tried to blind my eyes."

A burst of laughter erupts from the men El is talking to, it quickly quiets down back to a more normal level as the men continue to talk and trade a few jokes.

Boromir frowns and his face darkens, "Questioned loyalty? Of whom do you speak? This is indeed hard news which you bear."

Celebhir glances up at the laughter, interested for the moment, then turns back to the arrows he is checking.

Landromir takes his hand and runs it through his hair, "My gracious lord, I am not in the place to say... please forgive me and ask not for I dare not shake the towers of the mighty."

Boromir's frown deepens and his face becomes urging, "Speak, I say! Fear not the towers of the mighty, lest you withold that which you know."

Thomas has arrived.

Elbarad's ears catch the sound of Boromir's voice raising but seeing he is talking to Landromir he turns back to say a few more words to the men he's been talking to before moving down to the next gathering of men to see how they're doing.

Celebhir is stilling at the small fire near the scout's camp, checking his arrows one by one.

Ravenwyr has arrived.

Thomas steps out of the tent and takes a deep breath testing his recently healed side.

Ravenwyr walks out of the Fortification, in conversation with another Officer from Minas Tirith. Stepping outside the two speak alittle while before the younger man salutes Wyr and turns back to taking care of his orders. Raven shifts his cane slightly as he leans on it, glancing over who is about in the area.

Garrick comes off the bridge which lies to the east.

Garrick has arrived.

Thomas notes Celebhir by the fire and walks over and joins him. He drops to his haunches beside the fire and warms his hands, as he does so he smiles and says, "Greetings Captain, how are your wounds?"

Landromir looks either way and says, "My lord, there is one among the number... a citadel guard, who is high in favor of your father. Yet he gave ill counsel last night, and indeed, he appears as no other man of Gondor but rather of a more swarthy complexion." Landromir pauses and glances to either side again, "And my lord, rumor has had it that this one has been taken to the Dark Tower and escaped? My lord, all the lore shows that ... He who we name not would never allow such a thing without having bend one to his will. Pray you, I fear that Ravenwyr mayhap be a spy or some evil huckster sent amongst us to work the will of the enemy. Look at the strange counsel he gave last night and his most arrogant demenor. Sir. I pray I am wrong and I subject myself to your mercy if I am false for speaking only what you ask of me."

Celebhir begins to put the arrows back in the quiver, except for two." He glances up at Thomas with a smile. "You know very well how it is, for you were my healer. " He nods next to him for Thomas to take a seat. "I am fine, or I would not be out here. How are you then?"

Ravenwyr cocks his dark head, his murky grey-ish eyes having been captured by a man sitting some distance away at what appears to be something of a loose camp aside from the Fort. Wyr blinks, trying to place the man as another walks over to him to exchange words.

Garrick, returning to the camp, looks for a place to rest.

Thomas smiles at Celebhir, "My side is still stiff your the vicious blow of the orcs battle axe but I have trained our other healers well, I should fine once I work the stiffness out."

Boromir nods slowly at these words and his frown deepens, "(Sindarin) Indeed, I know of what you say and it troubles me as well. My father, I fear, holds the man in high regard, though I know not why. I find him woman-like and timid, and ill-suited to command, but I do not gainsay the word of my father, who is Steward of Gondor. Yet what you say opens again old wounds within that I have long sought to heal, and my mind is darkened. Indeed his counsel was ill, as though he knew all to well the devices of the enemy."

With a few lines around his eyes from squinting slightly, Ravenwyr begins to walk over towards the couple of woodsmen sitting by a low burning fire to one side of the cleared space. He goes slowly, still trying to put something together and halts only a very short distance from Thomas and Celebhir. He blinks and frowns, "Celebhir?"

Landromir looks quickly either way, "(Sindarin) My lord, perhaps we are mistaken. Yet I fear now more than ever on the night of such a battle that may look so simple - mayhap the enemy has unravelled its devices in itself with some subterfuge." Landromir sighs and then says, "(Sindarin) Yet I must be wrong, no true man of Gondor would betray us. But ... is he a true man of Gondor has oft come to my mind."

Elbarad emerges from behind the one of the tents belonging to the group of men he is talking to, his face red with anger he kicks one of the poles down that supports it. His voice rising to not quite a shout, he says, "Now set this thing up right this time you bloody fools, if it had rained last night you'd all have been soaked to the skin and come down with the ague! And even worse then that your weapons would have gotten wet!" With a final kick he heads over to the next tent, these men look up warily as he approches but after a quick check of their area they relax as El chats with them in a friendly manner.

Celebhir looks up from the fire at the man with a cane standing nearby. "Wyr? Is that you?" He stands up from the fire, laying the arrow down. "Would you care to join us, here at the fire?"

Boromir's frown deepens and his gaze strays over towards Ravenwyr, and his eyes narrow with suspicion. Turning again to Landromir, he nods his head. "(Sindarin) Aye, often I have wondered what blood runs through his veins. Like a man of the south he is, out of Pelargir or Harondor where few now go, and so he was allowed into Minas Tirith and admitted into the Guard. But still, your words arouse a suspicion within me that has long lay hid."

Thomas nods and Motions with one hand, "Yes please join us and warm yourself."

Ravenwyr nods solemly, "I wasn't even sure if I reccognized you, old friend. I'd be honored." he glances to Thomas, "If I am not interrupting anything?" Hearing the other man he nods again, "Thank you." he steps over carefully and takes a seat on whatever he can find near at hand, looking to Celebhir, studying the man.

Landromir rubs his chin, "(Sindarin) Good Lord, I may be in the wrong yet. Pray allow me to look into this matter and see what I may find out. If it was ill counsel he was to give then that has been averted. I shall keep three eyes on this one and if anything is untoward I shall bring you what I may. We cannot condemn a man just on what we may think."

Celebhir sits back down and grins back at his friend through a face much changed. But the voice is the same. "How fare you, Wyr? Thomas gave me the message you had sent to me, but I feared I would be going in the other direction too soon to be able to even visit."

Thomas looks over at Celebhir and begins to stand, "I shall leave you and your old friend alone, I must see to some of the men at any rate. If you will excuse me."

Boromir nods after gazing long upon Ravenwyr with darkling eyes, "(Sindarin) Very well, but watch him well and let none else know of your suspicions. Forget not that my father holds him in high esteem, which may prove ill for you should such accusations reach the light of day. I too shall watch with my own eyes, and my tounge will be guarded when he stands near."

Landromir sighs, "(Sindarin) It is merely my eager heart to battle that I hold an eye to all enemies. If your wise father so entreats him, then I am probably wrong. But I shall look as you order me."

Ravenwyr listens and smiles at Celeb, then inclines his head to Thomas respectfully, "Then I indeed owe you my thanks, sir." He looks back to Celebhir, leaning forward slightly after setting his cane to one side, elbows on his knees, "Thomas had told me you .... had some rough handling, but I am so glad to see you well now." Wyr smiles alittle again, his face smoothing some, "I do well enough. I can walk again and Lynn does well. I don't even know if you have met Lynnitha. She is my wife."

Boromir laughs aloud now, breaking his quiet discourse with Landromir, and he claps the man warmly on the back and speaking again in the common tounge. "Come my friend. Let us set aside such worries and talk of ligher matters!" And he motions now towards a large log beside a kindling fire, though ever his eyes alight upon Ravenwyr; narrowing slighty before he looks away.

Elbarad turns and says a few last words of encouragement to his men before he turns and begins to make his way back towards the main fortification. As he walks he pulls his pipe from inside his tunic and fills it. Stoping at a lit tourch he lites a small taper and puffs until he has a coal going. After he does this he continues walking back towards the fort.

Landromir nods and walks slowly toward the log as he takes a seat, "My lord, I must say I am eager for battle. My heart feels constrained that I may not go forth to war and avenge our folk." He smiles softly, "So many mighty warriors, alas. Gondor must have indeed been mighty in the days of the Kings."

Celebhir picks up one of the arrows left out and picks it up, his eye on Wyr as his finger smooth out the feathering. "I regret I was unable to be here for your wedding. And no, I have met neither Mother or daugther. When next I come back this way, I will try to stop in to see you."

Elbarad looks up as Thomas speaks to him, although he gives a small start of surprise he quickly grins. Taking his pipe out of his mouth so he can fiddle with it while he talks he says, "Thomas! Good to see you my friend. I'd heard you were here but I'm sorry to say I haven't had time to seek you out. I also heard that you've been promoted.... congratulations."

Boromir too sits upon the log, beside Landromir, and he takes a stick from the ground and slowly prods the smoldering logs. And he sighs as Landromir speaks, and his eyes drift off to another time perhaps, yet plainly his mind be on matters not pertaining to the present. "Aye my friend, mighty she was and strong, as a bastion of stone set amid a tumultous sea. Would that I had lived in those times past, before we did wane with slow turn of ages. The enemies of Gondor did fear us indeed, and they did come near to our borders only in great strength of arms and men; fearing our wrath. And ever they were defeated by proud Kings, and words did spread into lands afar of our glory, and our borders stretched even South to city of Umbar. But those times are past, and the days are grown dark."

With a nod and a shy smile, Raven looks off across the open space, "Yes, Nithwyn. And another child on the way... hopefully a son, though with Rhiforath in our fostering as well, he's quite enough of a handful." He chuckles, then looks back to Celehbir, "But how fair you? I assume you are still a bachleor in that Deadly Garden, eh?"

Thomas nods, "Thank you my friend, I guess. A promotion means much responsibility, I hope I am up to the challange. So many lives in my hands, it makes my knees shake sometimes, and I do not shake easily." Thomas shakes his head slowly.

Landromir looks warily aside, "Umbar? I have heard tales of that dread town. A cursed people are the southrons, twisted and evil. Indeed, my heart burns in anger at those men, who are worse than orcs, for they have fallen from what they should or might have been. If only we had such strength to show them that Gondor was yet in sway." Landromir now laughs, "But they shall, this I know. Gondor shall never die, for we are proud, though grim. Merry, yet sad." Landromir pauses and says, "Oh how I yearn for battle."

Celebhir smiles slightly. "I still can move to the dance of the forest. And what else would I do? This has been my life, all I have ever done."

Elbarad nods sympathetically, "Aye, the burdens of leadership can be high at times.... it just get's worse when you start losing men.... men you've seen go from boys who don't know one end of a blade from another to men you could trust with your life... Still...,' he grins, '...I'd rather be ordering men to peel potatoes then being ordered to do it."

Boromir nods ferevently and spits into the fire, the wetness sizzling and hissing upon the burning logs, "Aye, curse the Southrons! Forsooth they claim kinship to us, we of Gondor who are proud and above such petty fools. Long ago they fell beneath His will, and ever they are ready to recieve His word. I would crush them under foot if I may, but we are too few for such a march, and the East must ever be guarded."

Ravenwyr sits listening to Celebhir and nods in agreement, his own voice low, "Yes, and until Lynn swayed me, I had very few thoughts except for the Guard. Certainly though, she has kept me there. I have no regrets in that in any way." Hearing something spoken among other men at another fire a short distance away, Wyr glances up towards Landromir and his Lord, distracted for a moment.

Thomas nods and smiles wryly, "Aye, my friend as would I. And I have seen many good men that were under my command die at the hands of foul orc blades. It infuriates me that such good and noble men should be so cruelly killed by evil creatures from the nameless land."

Landromir nods, "Aye, alas for our weakness. Here we sit in what was once the center of a mighty city, and now ruins staring paly eyed back at us as if we were ghosts. So are the Southrons. Ghosts of men, corrupted by the black hand as all who feel its power are corrupted, save those true men of Numenor who yet hold on alone in the world."

Celebhir glances around the garrison ground first, looking at the the small or large groupings, before looking back to Wyr. "It sounds like you have finally settled down, friend. You have a more of a calmness about you than when last I saw you. Are you content now?"

Boromir sighs and shakes his head, "Such was it ever with the men of Numenor who sailed across the sea. Kings among men they were, and revered by the lesser men of Middle-earth. But their folly was great, and that noble isle was lost, so say the olden tales. And sayers of lore will tell of men of Numenor who remained in Umbar, a chief haven of Westernesse, and they too fell beneath His will and grew apt to his hand. Evil are they, all the more becuse their blood is high and likened to our own."

Elbarad turns and points with the stem of his pipe at the men he chided earlier who are still resetting up their tent, "Aye, although you and your men face the risks on a more daily basis we in the guard know our share as well. Those lads there shouldn't be out here on mission like this but.... after Pelargir when our losses were so many they are forced to make due. I worry that in the upcoming battle we will lose many men if the orcs have brought reinforcements." He drops his voice and says quietly, "Are you at liberty to tell me about the results of any scouting missions today? Have the foes' numbers grown this day?"

Landromir sighs, "Alas. Yet my good Lord I would most wish to think in the present. The men seem at ease. Indeed perhaps too much. Look at that yon officer chewing on a piece of wood looking strangely as if the fires of Barad-dur were coming from his mouth. Perhaps it may be time to work them through?"

For a moment, Ravenwyr seems not to hear Celebhir, instead trying to pick up snatches of a conversation he can barely hear. He blinks, a commen habbit for him if he's surprised or misses something, "Eh... " recalling what he was just asked, Raven shrugs with another hint of a smile, though less than before, "I would like to think so. Surely I have found something I had only longed for in a family." He picks a stalk of tall grass and begins to strip it of it's leaves as he speaks, watching his own dark hands working, several parts of his fingers missing, one completely gone from frostbite the year before, "I have less desire to return to things I've known. Cities were never home to me before." Ravenwyr's head comes up at the mention of some place he overhears again. It disturbs him and he looses track of what he was talking about.

Thomas nods and takes Elbarad by the elbow and leads him to the side of one of the tents out of site of the men and says quitely, "Aye, me friend I can tell you. They number in the hundreds perhaps five to six hundred of them if not more. I hope our munbers are great enough to stop them. There is one orc in particular that I have a score to settle with. He gave me this," Thomas points to the newly stichted armour, "I fear dark days of fighting are ahead of us."

Boromir chuckles softly to himself and runs a hand along his chin, looking to the man Landromir has pointed out. "His mettle, and all those hither, shall be tested soon enough, but fear not for the men of Gondor. They are ready, drilled time and again for such trials of arms, and many have fought long upon these borders; knowing will the devices of the enemy. Nay, they seem idle now for that is the wont of all men before a battle, the lull before the storm, when the mind turns ever towards dark thoughts."

Elbarad allows Thomas to take him off to the side, as Thomas relates the numbers of the foe he raises an eyebrow. Speaking in a hushed tone he says, "Five or Six hundreds you say? Only yesterday we were told they numbered no more then 3 hundreds..... their numbers have doubled in only one day. I'm sure this has been reported to our captains. I wonder though if this has changed our plans for the morrow."

Landromir sighs, "You are right lord. I shall go prepare myself for the moment with your leave?"

Celebhir looks at Wyr shrewedly, the one grey eye missing nothing. He speaks back to Wyr quietly. "I think I understand more about you than when we were first friends." He looks at his own hands holding the arrow. "Sometimes you need to lose things, to understand what the rest of if all means." He put the arrow into the quiver, then picks up the last one. "Are you here for the battle then, Wyr? I would have thought you would sit one out. You deserve it."

Ravenwyr makes himself look back to Celebhir.

Boromir nods though he does not look up from the fire, "My leave you have. Go now and make what preparations as you will."

Landromir rises and bows deepfully, "Thank you Lord."

Landromir turns on his heels and enters the garrison... even as he passes in another figure emerges.

Imrahil has arrived emerging from the garrison.

Thomas shakes his head, "They may not be quite that many, they may like number no more then 350 to 400. I begin to wonder at the skill of some of my younger scouts. I'm sure you have heard of what the foolish Guntor did I'm sure?"

Imrahil looks about slowly, his own face filled with some worries.

Relkin emerges from the group of scouts. He looks on with a frown on his face, but makes no comment for the moment.

Imrahil discerns the visage of Boromir alone by the fire. Taking long strides he approaches him, "Again I come to you as when I saw you with heavy eye in the Great City. What be on your mind that makes you look into the fire as if it were a very soul?"

Raising a black brow at the woodsmen, Raven takes a moment to redirect his thoughts. He sighs, "Maybe." He skips on to the man's second comment, "I came... with Lynn's protest. I missed speaking to my Captain-General about coming, so I made excuses and came anyway." He frowns, looking at the ground and not at the forgotten stalk of grass in hand, "Guess I miss being out in the field, even as ugly as it tends to be. With the men... walls still hamper, close in sometimes." He forces a thin smile, "Maybe I'm scared of growing old."

Elbarad chuckles softly at the mention of Guntor, "Yes.... I was in the courtyard when that patrol returned. I didn't quite hear what he did to recieve such rough rebuke but it most have been most aggregious for even Lord Boromir to have words with him. What exactly did he do?"

Boromir looks up to Imrahil now and he motions the man sit beside him. "Then is your mind not heavy with dark thoughts this day? Or do the folk of Amroth feel not the worries of a battle to come?"

Thomas shakes his head, "The younge fool risked the security of the noblest of the Lords of Gondor. When he was supposed to be stealthy he charged into battle." Thomas shakes his head, "And he thought the dressing down he got from Lord Boromir was bad, wait until I have words with him."

Relkin approaches Thomas slowly, his eyes glancing to the east frequently.

Thomas does not entially notice Relkin's approach so intent is he in his talk with Elbarad.

Imrahil takes a seat, "Say not that our minds are not heavy. Say rather that we choose to think of battle only when it comes. Indeed, if it were otherwise the hearts of my thanes may drop into the very sink of fear for when the time comes they shall be verily in the midst of danger with their position." Imrahil sighs, "My Marshall's plan is sound though I fear for some last minute flaw. If only the scouts shall do their duty."

Relkin gives a nod to Elbarad as he approaches the two men. The frown on his face deepens as he catches the end up what Thomas is saying.

Elbarad laughs almost too loud, "You're the second officer who has told me that. My friend Gorsegal also told me that he too would speak in earnest with the youth." As Relkin approches El turns his head and gives a friendly nod of greeting to a man he recognizes but does not know well.

Thomas nods at Relkins a deep frown on his face, "Greetings brother, I'm sure you can figure out about whom we speak." Thomas shakes his head in disgust.

Boromir sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Alas, but I have little to fear. We are many and they are few, and even would be outnumbered one of our men stands as match for three of the enemy. Nay, we shall emerge victorious I am certain, but still doubt lingers ever upon my mind, betraying the hope I hold."

Relkin shrugs his shoulders, "I've not heard the whole story, but I'm sure Goresgal and yourself will give him plenty to think about without my help." He glances nervously to the east once more, his hand straying to his bow.

Celebhir shakes he head slightly as his fingers uncurl and straighten the feathering on the arrow. He turns his eye on his friend again, then looks around the grounds again. His voice is quiet, and the look on his face troubled. "There is a feeling in the air tonight, some tension. I will be well satisfied to help drive them back closer to their own home. The scouts will stay behind them, and the orcs will flee before us."

Imrahil pauses at the word betrayal and then says, "Come my sister-son. Be not so! Ever do Captains of men hold their folk with responsible heart. Yet if you run your hands through your hair once more you shall be bald ere you grey!" Imrahil now sighs, "I hear you, but now let us think of other thoughts, perhaps we should go among the men and see how they fare on the eve of this royal battle?"

Thomas nods, "Aye, brother the younge fool made a mistake that was almost tragic, but we must not malign him too badly." Thomas smiles at the end of the statement.

Boromir laughs and stands to his feet, laying a hand upon Imrahil's shoulder. "Wise are you lord of the South, so my father has told me often, though seldom have we spoken since I am grown to manhood. Aye, let us go amongst the men, hiding our fears from them."

Relkin allows his face to relax into a smile for a moment before thoughts of the Enemy cloud his eyes once more. He places a hand on Thomas' shoulder and says, "I'm sure we did things almost as rash."

Listening to Celehbir, Wyr nods but makes no comment. The suns slowly slips farther and farther westerly towards it's coming rest. He sits quiet, the sounds of the camp washing over him, bringing snippets of words to him as his thoughts wander to places and memories best left untrod. Finally Raven sighs, "Tension. Yes, I can feel that, among other less definable things." he glances over his shoulder to the east and the bridge there painted in greys, golds and pale lavendors of the new sunset, "Seeing that damn bridge again sure brings back things."

Thomas nods and smiles again, "Aye, I'm sure we did. We old soldiers must remeber our mistakes as well."

Imrahil rises and then says, "Let us see how well they are set. Shall we align them or merely settle to wander amongst their idle hearts?"

Elbarad takes another few puffs from his small pipe before turning it over and knocking the dottle loose and onto the ground where he grinds it out under his boot. Setting his pipe back into his pouch inside his tunic he says, "The courage of youth is not something that we want to totally discourage. But the man must be taught caution as well. Something that is easy to talk about but difficult to act upon properly. I'm certain that this will be a lesson he will learn well after today."

Goresgal pushes aside the tent flap and walks out, he stands tall and looks over the site, his gaze holds for a moment on the men of Gondor that he calls his 'brothers'. He lets the hood of his cloak fall onto his shoulders and heads to join his fellows...

Boromir shakes his head as me moves towards a gathering of men, "Nay, let us not rouse them from what distractions hold their minds. 'Tis enough that we come before them as Captains of war, though showing no fear for what is to come. Mayhap they shall be emboldened by this. Come."

Relkin stands close to Thomas and Elbarad, conversing quietly. Thomas nods to Elbarad, "It will if I have to beat it into his young head with my fist. But I will be as kind to the use as possible, I may have to personally give him some lessons, or I may let our brother Goresgal do that." Thomas smiles at the thought.

Elbarad, having matched blades with Gorsegal in training before smiles at the thought, "You scouts have a hard duty that is certain. Almost I would think you would be glad for a battle to rear it's head for it allows you to meet with your fellow brothers in arms. I know that I am glad to see friends that I usually don't get to see often. "

Imrahil leads the way with Boromir heading to Elbarad, Relkin and Thomas. He pauses in front of them for a moment.

Thomas nods again, "Aye, if battle has one plus, it tis that."

Elbarad looks up as the Prince and the Captain General approach. Offering a respectful bow he says, "Good eve m'lords. Is there ought you require of us at this time?"

Ravenwyr screws his face up, looking back to Celebhir, "I've kind of been out of the loop a while. Can you tell me anything about how bad this situation is?"

The sun sets and leaves the night in a deep gloom as the smoke from the east covers up any sign of the stars.

Thomas bows slowly and awkwardly at the waist and remains silent letting Elbarad speak.

Imrahil smiles, "Merely we wish to know your mood, and what think you of the days ahead. Speak, and be not shy officer, this is not a time to be of blushed cheek."

Goresgal walks away from the circle of tents and eventually stops alongside the scouts Thomas and Relkin, "Lieutenant .. Sergeant " he nods to the two then looks to Elbarad, "How far thee O Elbarad?"

Celebhir's smile turns a shade peculiar. "Aye, many things bring back reminders. I fought the orc the captured me not that long ago." His smile changes again, but not to a more comfortable one to look on. "Oh yes, many things indeed. "

Relkin glances over at the sound of people approaching. He lowers his head respectfully to Boromir, and does the same for Imrahil a moment later.

Ravenwyr nods, listening to Celebhir.

Relkin gives a quick nod in response to Goresgal's greeting.

Celebhir glances up again at Wyr, his face sober. "Have you been told nothing? I know of some parts, but not all. It has been by great cost that we hold them from coming no further than this."

Thomas nods to the Lord Imrahil and Lord Boromir, "Our mood my lord's is forboding. This waiting is the bane of all soldier, but also their duty. I itch to strike back at our foul enemies." Goresgal watches as the Prince's make they way toward the circle of men, then lifts his gaze skyward abd east as the last of the sunlight fades into blackness, he comments to himself, "With night comes thy servants.."

Holding the stripped stalk of grass, still heavy with a ripening head, in his hands, Ravenwyr shrugs, "I have been told some things but I only just arrived a day or so ago and have only heard one briefing. I wanted to see if you had anything to say. I rather trust your more experienced opinion than some southern Lord's appraisal that I don't know." He looks annoyed.

Elbarad gives a slight sigh and purses his lips as he thinks about his reply before he speaks, finally he says, "Amoungst the more experienced men the spirits are high m'lords. Most are cautiously optimistic that the battle will turn out as well as can be expected. But....,' he shrugs, 'many of our men will face battle for the first time tomorrow. These men are a little nervous as is understandable. Just a few minutes ago I made my way amoung some of them to judge their readyness. I deem they shall do well enough. Although... as I was just saying to Thomas here.... I would rather that some of these men had a longer period of training into them before taking them to battle., But.... we must make do as best we can and I am sure they will do well."

Overhearing some man speak of the night and it's servants, Wyr gets a shiver and stiffens, glancing over his back.

Imrahil smiles and then he pulls himself up tall allowing his sea grey eyes to fall fully on the men before him, "Fear not the darkness. Fear not foes. We are men of Gondor, remnant of Numenor the proud. Ever shall we stand to hold at bay that evil before us. Together we shall ride! And if to die - for a proud cause and ever shall our names be sung. And if to live - the greater share of honor - I pray thee wish not one man more. Brothers, for you indeed I will claim as my brothers as we shall fight together on the morrow. Brothers, when the day is done, we shall fill our cup and rejoice, for we will have done our part for our country. Let us be happy and content for we will go as brethren on the morrow!"

Celebhir looks down at the fire before answering. "If we can push them back to Ithilien, then they may stay there for some time, at least. If we do not, then will come more and more again."

Boromir looks over the men before him, his eyes lingering upon Ravenwyr longer than the rest, and a frown briefly passing his lips, but soon he looks away ands nods to the words of Elbarad. "Indeed it is to be expected, for when men come first to battle they are afeared, as is common. But know that all of Gondor stands beside them in this endeavour, as in all times of war, and the people who live in the lands west of this place do look to them with honour and respect, for their homesteads are defended and their lives spared. No greater honour in all the land is there."

Relkin's face takes on a look of derision at Boromir's words, but he quickly turns to look away, hiding his face until he can put on a plain countenance once more.

Goresgal listens a moment to the high and mighty words of the lord's of the land, then his mind wanders off, further east and to the darkest reaches of Ithilien and the horrors brought there by the nameless one and his foulest servants, a slight tremor runs through his spine and he shakes away the thoughts, then returns his attention to the talk..

Ravenwyr runs a hand over his face at Celebhir's words, "Ah, things move in circles... when I'd wish so fervantly that they do so not again." He rolls his shoulders, trying to loose the chill and his tension, "Atleast it isn't winter... yet. I have thanks for that." He scowls, dropping his voice and looking at the smoldering embers as he drops the stalk of grass into them, "I won't go through that again, not for anything."

Thomas nods his face still dark having had intimate experience with the dark fold. He remains quite his face unreadable and his thoughts dark seeing the fears of the great men as easily as he sees the fear of the not so great, but just as brave.

Goresgal steps close to Relkin, he leans over his shoulder and speaks softly, "... ... ... have ... ... Relkin? ... ... ... this last ... we can't ... ... ... ... ..."

Elbarad nods as the two lords speak words of encouragment to him and the other men. Daring a slight smile he says somewhat plainly, "I'm sure that most of the men are not thinking much about what others think of them right now.... especially those peoples that sometimes seem to forget that we are the bulwark against the darkness. But... as you say... I will remind them of this next time I take my rounds to speak to the men as I try to judge their readiness."

Celebhir's eye stares at the fire for long moments, at memories to new to have lost their pain. Then he takes his bow from beside him and starts to work on the string, checking it, so there will be at least one thing else to think about.

Boromir lays a hand upon Elbarad's shoulder from where he stands, "Aye, and say to them that Boromir of Gondor fears not for their readiness. Little doubt have I that they shall march forth as befitting men of Gondor, the remnant of Numenor fair."

Relkin replies to Goresgal's question in the same quiet voice, "About a score of men is all that remain."

Imrahil nods, "Nor does Imrahil son of Adrahil fear the darkness, though we must be wary of it."

Goresgal sighs and looks east, the upcoming battle plaguing his mind with worry, "Then swift we must be, else the last of us shall fall and then who will ..." he glances to the lord's present and bites his lip before saying more than he should.. "Keep them well informed, no surprises"

Elbarad's voice rings clear into the evening as he says with gladness, "Now *THAT* my lord is something that will raise mens hearts! To hear that you have every confidence in them will surely embolden even the most fearful of men. I thank you m'lord for your confidence in the men. When I tell them of this they will be very sure to not let your confidence in them be misplaced."

Boromir turns now to Goresgal and approaches the man, "Have thy men scoured the lands east as yet? I would have little doubt as to the numbers we face, and I fear more shall arrive to bolster their strength."

Perhaps growing restless with the coming of the darkness in this haunted place, Ravenwyr stands stiffly and takes up his cane, a raven's silver head on the tip of the handle with backstretched wings over a carving of other beasts. He wraps both hands on the black wood, looking into the night, "I hate waiting though. I've never been good at it." He turns his head, hearing Elbarad's clear voice rise above the others.

Imrahil takes a step forward, "Why must our hearts be raised? Should we be uplifted enough knowing that our cause is just and our swords sharp? We may be grim of heart but know you for who you are Officer, man of Gondor, true of heart noble of mind, rich of the high blood of old." Imrahil pulls himself upward and the fire casts a long shadow in front of him long and threatening, his cape is far behind him and his jewelled hilt sparkles almost as keenly as his eyes.

Goresgal looks up to the prince, his eyes appraise him, "Aye a constant watch as needed my Lord.." he looks too Relkin and Thomas, "Soon there would be need again I believe"

Celebhir listens to Elbarad's words with no change of expression. He glances at Goregal, a questioning look, the looks to Wyr again. "Are you leaving then, friend? If so, I will see you in your home some day soon."

Thomas returns Goresgal's glance but remains silent.

Relkin nods his head and replies quietly, "Aye, we should check their position."

Boromir's eyes narrow shrewdly and he presses Goresgal further, "And what of their numbers? Have they grown in strength as we fear, or do they remain but three hundred strong?"

Elbarad's eyes glance at Imrahil in surprise at this sudden rebuke. Momentarily he appears ready to accept this but on a sudden his eyes change. Speaking carefully and in an even tone he says to Imrahil, "Perhaps you misheard me my lord. I was merely speaking of our young men who face battle for the first time. Surely your knights need not to have their hearts lifted but what of your untested squires? Do not their hearts sometimes know doubts?"

Goresgal nods, "Aye O Boromir, they have stayed in number, at several occasions some have taken to the east, but only to return a few days later" he glances east in thought, "I believe nought will join their numbers"

Celebhir stands up to from the fire, gathering bow and quiver together, as he hears the questions being asked.

Ravenwyr's eyes, dark with his face turned away from the fire's dim glow, watches Prince Imrahil, standing slim and tall, something in the way that man is like carven stone but made of blood and bone. Wyr presses his lips into a thin line, but whatever thought was on his mind is displaced by Celebhir's words, "No, I've no where to go unless ordered, or unless something happens. I just needed to stretch." He waves a hand to indicate ignoring something. He sits back down, "I do hope that you might come to our home sometime and meet my family. So few of my friends still live to share them with." Seeing Celebhir now stand, Wyr glances up incase he missed something.

Boromir too gazes away east, and he strokes his chin as though with some measure of doubt. "Troubled am I with this news, for it shows little wisdom. The servants of the Nameless One be witless fools, but He who guides them has ever shown skill in the ways of war, a threat to us always. Strange that He would send but three hundred strong to camp upon our borders, knowing well they be doomed to defeat at our hand. A trap this may be, or mayhap a test of our will and strength. I know not, but let us be wary."

Goresgal looks back to Boromir with intentness, "Aye indeed word words are wise as those of your brother good Boromir, little have mine eyes laid upon the servants that can't be seen ...prehaps it is those that guide these rabble into greater strength?..nor the Olog that renders stone and limps from men" he shrugs .

Celebhir stands still next to the fires, quiver now over his shoulder and longbow as well. He continues to listen to what questions his brothers are being asked.

Boromir shakes his head, "Nay, I speak not of His servants, but the Nameless One himself, who sits in malice in the land East which we do not name. Think not that his servants move by designs not His own, and for this reason I am troubled."

Ravenwyr sits fingering his cane, listening to his Lords speaking nearby to the woodsmen... his own talk with Celebhir having trailed off with the darker tidings.

Goresgal frowns he ponders moreso, "Long has it been since the great crossroads were set upon by those servants. This is the first time the enemy has returned in strength.. prehaps a test as you say?"

Imrahil smiles, "Indeed we know fear and doubt good Officer, but ever are ever proud. Remember! The blood of our folk, spilt in unmarked graves. Remember, the sword forged of ages past to be wielded now at a latter day! Remember, brave Officer and mark you well, that we come not as ones filled with folly, but rather, a folk filled with strength that marks our proud heritage! Oh hear me and listen! For now we stand amidst the husked ruins of a fallen city. Yet stand we still, and know this now, that we are here for a purpose. Doubt and death remove from your mind, but rather, think of who we are and who we shall be. For even those who have fallen and lay upon these abandoned streets are yet remembered and sung of, for we shall never give thanks enough to those folk who fought and died with us. Gladly. Yea, with great joy will I give my life for that which I hold most dear: To hold our land for our children and for our wives and for our descendants who may live merrily. Have no doubt in our cause, for we are just and ever the light will shine where even it seems the darkest. Hast not history taught us so good Officer? That together we shall strive sword and sword, mind and mind, to hold onto our joy here. And if we should pass, it would be to let others live and to that I would yield that even the least man of Gondor may linger and hold us true if we be but hold true to who we are!"

Boromir nods at this, "Such are my own thoughts, yes, for little else stands as reason for such actions. He who sends three hundred to die merely to test the strength of his foe has indeed a mighty host behind him."

Relkin eyes Imrahil for a moment, then turns his back. He looks to Goresgal and Thomas, "Shall we see to the enemy?"

Thomas nods to Relkin glad for something to do A hard rain begins to fall as night creeps upon the land.

Celebhir listens to the Prince's words, yet something about them bother him, too. He shrugs, then lookds to Goresgal and the others, as though waiting.

Goresgal shifts slightly, uneasy at these thoughts, "Aye mighty in numbers indeed, though not without hidden strengths, and so wary we must be these long days and nights and so we are." he looks to the other scouts, "Aye let us be viligant, fetch thy Captain and off we shall be"

Standing again with restless tension, Ravenwyr turns his back on the fire and leans lightly upon his cane, looking out at the dark night while the others speak. His eyes search the ruins beyond them for any signs of movement, any noise out there that is unnatural even though there are watchers aplenty around the camp.

Thomas rests his hand on Elbarad's shoulder in silent farwell not wishing to disturb his conversation with the Prince Imrahil.

Boromir looks to Thomas and Relkin, and again to Goresgal. "Go you now to scout the position of the enemy? That is well." Clasping his cloak about his shoulders to ward off the falling rain, he motions to the sky, "The weather shall mask they movements, yet still take care and go with haste. I would not have you lost whilst acting as my eyes. Go carefully, and return as swift as you may!"

Imrahil sighs and says merely, "Tommorrow." Imrahil turns now to Boromir, "How many scouts shall we be sending for the lure?"

Goresgal nods, "And so we shall, many of our number have fallen and little more can we lose, this troubles me moreso than much that has transpired my Lord" he lifts his hood to ward off the rain and pulls his cloak tightly about him.

Garen arrives from within the outpost building.

Garen has arrived.

Boromir's attention is drawn now to Imrahil, and he shakes his head. "I know not the numbers, but we must send all that we may if our ruse is to succeed."

Celebhir looks to Wyr and reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder. "I will see you again, Wyr, at the least when I come back this way again. Take care of yourself and your family." He starts to move towards the others getting ready to leave and pulls his hood up even higher.

Ravenwyr perks up to listen as Prince Imrahil lights on a subject of interest to him. He does not turn though, his eyes finally beginning to recover from the light and gain some night vision in the late twilight rain. He ignores the wet, plastering his longish hair over his shoulders and neck.

Elbarad's jaw muscles clench and unclench slightly as the Prince launches into his speach. His eyes glint as he boldly looks the prince squarely in the eye. He says, "Noble prince, since that night many years ago when I was but an untried youth standing duty at the Great Gate of the city, when you came and ordered me to follow you into the fields outside the city to investigate a sound and rumor of war, I have considered myself a brave man. That night I meet for the first time a foe that I will not mention here. Although I was quaking in my boots I still did my best. That night you saved my life. You and the knights with you all displayed a bravery that is not present in lesser men. But I say to you now, it is not for myself that I worry, or in fact for any of the men in our precense now. It is for the young men under my command. I fear not that they will do well. They are better then they know. I meerly suggest that a word of encouragement from an officer would do them well."

Garen comes out of the fort, his eyes wide with youthful exuberance as he takes in all those gathered around him.

Goresgal turns to Celebhir and leans in close, "(Sindarin) ... my ... ... ... ... ... of ... number of *****" Thomas moves away seeming a meer shadow in the gloomy weather.

Ravenwyr turns, startled by Celebhir's touch, "What? Oh, thank you... and the same to you my friend." He almost reaches out to touch the other man's sleave in return but Celebhir has already turned away. He sighs and does not say anything more.

Goresgal slips his bow from his shoulder and holds it firmly in his right hand.

Goresgal takes the Longbow from off his back, he holds it easyily with one hand and hangs it by his side.

Celebhir shakes his head, his hands checking his armor and tightening here or there. "(Sindarin) Aye, I am ready. As for others, no, only a few more."

Garen looks around the gathering and stays near the entrance to the fort until he can take in the situation then slides along the perimiter of the group and comes up to Ravenwyr, "Sir."

Celebhir pulls free his bow and strings it in one fluid motion. He draws an arrow out and nocks it.

Ravenwyr turns, rather jumpy it seems and glares a breath at young Garen before skimming a hand through his rain slicked hair and thinking a flash about going in and getting dry like anyone with half a brain would. Instead he forces a cival tone, "Yes?"

Two knights come now up to Imrahil and flank him. Imrahil now looks upon Elbarad with a stern gaze and his sea grey eyes look upon him deeply. Then suddenly he laughs and his face seems pale and luminous - indeed the name Imrahil the Fair is not given to him idly, "Ah Officer, such is our lot! When we who command must ever give every idle moment to the folk who we command. How many battles have I past? How many ill chances and treacherous twists of fate have come to this land ere my late father died and the lordship of Belfalas came to me." Imrahil sighs and then looks to Elbarad with a noble eye, "Indeed command is a heavy orison on the heart that weighs one down as if a black tide with no abatement." Imrahil now places his hands on his hips and casts back his cape revealing Umbardacil, his sword wrought of old, "But even so, we may stand idly thinking of our men. Not a moment goes by when I wonder what fate may happen to them. Yet be confident good officer, aye... verily be it so, that Gondor shall live on and through it the blood and steel of our countrymen shall preserve us. Say that doubt never presses us, rather - we of Gondor seek to conquer doubt itself and wish to put in its its place, valor, honor and love - those very virtues that we of the Realm have held true both here and indeed, those of the Faithful held for us in long sundered Numenor which now lay beneath the sea." Imrahil now says softly, "Speak thy name officer and let me relieve your doubt, and think not of your men for they are well provided as you and our plan is sound and our hearts are true. We merely do as we were meant to do - but this I deem is our duty and nothing more. Tell me your name, and we shall comfort eachother for this is our fate."

Garen smiles at Ravenwyr with that awkward lopsided grin that can only come from youth, "Just reporting to you to let you know I am here, sir. After all, I am your aid."

Boromir turns about now, his eyes weary and his hair shodden from the falling rain. "I go where the air is dry and a fire to warm my bones!" Laying a hand upon Imrahil's shoulder briefly, he inclines his head to the man, "Fare well, Prince of Dol Amroth, until the morrow when battle comes." And then he passes quickly through the pooling water, muddied and brown, and quickly he is within the fort.

Boromir is admitted through the gate and into the main bunker of the fort.

Boromir has left.

Goresgal looks to the other scouts then gestures east over the bridge, "Come now, shall we go?"

Ravenwyr does an almost comical look up at the sky as if to say, 'Valar, why me?', then he nods, "Yes, ofcourse... but I'll not bother to begin that while we are out here. We can set that up when we get back." Wyr licks his lips as if to moisten them, even in the damnable rain, "I can't beleive we are all out here in the rain." He chuckles as it strikes him funny.

Thomas stands some distance away act as the point waiting for his brother to come his way.

Goresgal glances about as the men begin to gather and fall into a group beside Thomas, he then starts his way east to join them..

Celebhir glances towards Imrahil, and listens with an impassive face, but is quite eager to leave when Goresgal suggests it. "You lead, I take the rear?"

Garen smiles at Ravenwyr's words, "Well spoken. I think one of my first duties should be to see to it that you are someplace warm and dry as soon as possible."

Celebhir nods to Thomas, then looks at Goresgal. "Had you something else in mind, brother?"

Goresgal nods, "But without those men to strengthen the last line of defense, Gondor would not be the land it is today, let us worry on the enemy for now think thee not?"

Elbarad listens to the Prince's words at first with a touch of fire in his eyes, but as his speach continues his ire quickly drains away as the tides of the sea. Nodding his head low he says, "My name oh Prince is Elbarad, of the Guards of the Citidel. And whether you intend it or not I must say that your words bring comfort to me. To know that you too, a leader that all respect, sometimes shares these feelings of worry for your folk puts my mind to rest. For although I can not completely forget my anxieties at the least I will not let them worry me to the extent that I lose my confidence in myself and my men for I deem that that would be ill done."

Ravenwyr smiles at the lad, "I do think a warm cup would do me some good... " He looks about the camp and the men loitering in the night's rain, waiting to fight and trying to boy each other's spirits, "Let us go in and rest while we can."

Imrahil lays his hand upon Elbarad, "Then I wish thee well, and we shall fight together and be brothers."

Thomas nods, "Aye, but they have not the knowledge that of our enemy that we have." Thomas frowns and shakes his head.

Goresgal grins, "Long as they smite them one by one they know all that needs be, come now we have little time and much ground to cover, almost a league I gather"

Garen gives Ravenwyr a small bow with a flourish, "Then step inside and I shall prepare some coffee for thee. If I remember correctly, that is what my father said was a staple of yours."

Thomas nods his face still dark, but less dark then before. He starts off at an easy trot taking the point of the small scouting group.

Celebhir sighs and the answer is quiet. "Would you wish that they did? We have chosen what we are doing. WE were not forced into it. Goresgal, had you though of a better plan than the usual scouting formation, with twice the stealth?"

Elbarad inclines his head, "You do me honor my lord. If you ever have need of me I shall be at your call save only if your request were to conflict with a presworn duty."

Thomas stops a slight distance away awaiting orders to procede.

Ravenwyr sets his cane tip to the muddy ground and turns the rest of the way to face the Fortification. He casts a glance in Elbarad's direction, not at all envious that his friend has the undivided attention of the Prince and only glad that he does not. He smiles thinly at Garen as the young Private speaks of his favorite drink, "Yes, though these days I have been drinking too much brandy." He smiles alittle and begins walking back.

Ravenwyr is admitted through the gate and into the main bunker of the fort.

Ravenwyr has left.

Imrahil bows his head, "Then verily we shall draw swords together. Until then, let us prepare."

Garen wipes stray and wet hair from his face as he continues to grin. He then hurries forward and follows Wyr into the fort.

Garen is admitted through the gate and into the main bunker of the fort.

Garen has left.

Celebhir moves close to Goregal. "Will you take point, or rear guard?"

Imrahil inclines his head and turns on his heels entering the garrison.

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