Osgiliath: Gondorian Fortification - Main Bunker
        A large and rather stark outpost building build for defense. There are stores of food and arrangements to accomodate large quantities of men for long periods of time, and arrow slits line walls for defense against attack. The stone roof overhead is strong and heavily supported by long wooden beams. Plainly this fort was built for strong defense purposes and little, if any comfort, in an area where attack is immenint. On one wall a small metal ball protrudes. (+inspect ball)
        Presently a great work is underway to rebuild the ruined aspects of the fort, for still in some areas there is evidence of fire and destruction; sentiment to a war in which the fort fell to enemy hands. The many men gathered hither spend their time either resting or aiding in the process of restoration and strengthening of the structure.
 

Boromir steps from the council chamber, Malahir at his heels. Unable to control his excitment he exclaims, "Well down Malahir! I believe you have found the very place we have been searching for. We shall begin the search at once.

Followed by a group of sentries, a tall man, wearing gold and sable colored armor, responds to the Lord Captain in an official tone, "Aye my lord, we must begin with haste. My memory serves me well, so I shall take you strait there without delay. My group and I found the entrance due west of here sir", and he looks to the sentries, "These men were invaluable to my search, I bid you allow me to take them with", he asks politely.

Nikera glances up from where she sits resting against the infirmary's wall. Letting her eyes come to rest on the group as they exit the build, her attention resting more on the two men to the fore of the party
 
Boromir nods his approval saying, "Certainly they shall come with us. Not only am I concerned that we shall once again meet with those cursed Southrons as we have so often during our quest I am worried that somewhere in the maze you described that something or someone might lurk there. These ruins crawl with the denizens from the east. Some orcs or worse might hide inside. Let us go and gather any who might be outside and begin at once." Without waiting for an answer he steps outside the doorway, not noting who follows.
Boromir heads out of the building and into the camp of the Gondorian Guard.
Boromir has left.

Malahir salutes smartly and glances at the remaining soldiers in the room. The acting lieutenant directs them with a motion toward the door, "Fall in men, be prepared for anything, the Lord Captain must be protected at all times", with that, Malahir follows suit and storms out the fort, an entourage of a half dozen men on his heels.

You head out of the building and into the camp of the Gondorian Guard.
Osgiliath: Western Ruins - Gondorian Garrison

        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...

Boromir hurries through the doorway, buckling his cloak about his neck. He says loudly enough to be heard in the courtyard, "Any who are able, I shall require your aid at this time. It seems that we have at last reached the end of our quest thanks to Malahir. Who is with me?"

Carecyn arrives from within the outpost building.
Carecyn has arrived.

Nikera follows the party as it exits the building keeping far to the back as if part of the group but not close enough for those at the rear to be aware of the follower

Malahir salutes smartly and glances at the remaining soldiers in the room. The acting lieutenant directs them with a motion toward the door, "Fall in men, be prepared for anything, the Lord Captain must be protected at all times", with that, Malahir follows suit and storms out the fort, an entourage of a half dozen men on his heels. Hearing the tail end of Boromir's anouncement, the young acting Lieutenant of the silver ship pulls up to Boromir's side and salutes once more "Aye sir, my men and I are ready".

[Arnafel(#29017)] A lone figure sits on a pile of rubble, idly observing the changing of shift of the guards. As the Steward's Son enters the courtyard and speaks, Arnafel rises and strides to his side, bowing once before he takes his place at Boromir's side. He remains silent, and no word passes his lips.

Carecyn stands back away from the group idly rubbing the hilt of his long sword. As Boromir starts to speak to the others the green clad man moves forward quickly and listens intently to what the Lord Captain has to say.

Analdin has arrived.

Torelin follows Arnafel's lead and steps forward, taking a place beside him. He glances around quickly, obviously in search of his other companions.

Elidran has arrived.

Analdin steps out of the fortification casually, as though having just woken up. Glancing about the courtyard, a light brow shoots up as he catches sight of a number of people, many of whom are of his own company. Though the sight caused him to pause in his steps and stop a moment, curiousity spurs him on until he comes to stand near the outside edge where he clears his throat quietly.

Fanathir streches his hands upwards and yawns as his body shivers. His eyes turn red and tiny veins devide his cornea.. grabbing some leaves from the ground next to him he puts it under his laying cloak, and pressing it hardly makes somewhat of a pillow to rest his head upon, "I don't think it will be neccessary, my friend", he mumbles and leans backwards, using his elbow not to fall down, "just alert me if anything urgent happens, g'night Keleir." Saying this last words his head falls down and unto his pillow and Fanathir doesn't say another word.

Boromir nods as the men gather about him, he waits till he judges that enough have then pointing to the west says, "Very well then Malahir, lead on. Show us what you have found."

Malahir looks strait forward at rigid attention, his small squad of guards doing more or less the same behind him. His glance is not warrying like his jittery knees are. He does not show any smugness from having his name announced by the Lord Captain. In his line of sight, he focuses on the soldier that stays on the outside of the group and recognizes him instantly. Visually more nervous now than before and likewise clearing his dry throat, the young officer stands beside the Steward's son, uncomfrotably awaiting the order to move out.
        Being ordered so, Malahir steps forward and says gruffly, "This way sir, to the west".

Boromir wraps his cloak about him, proof against the cold morning air. His step quicking as he follows after Malahir's lead, eager it seems to find at last what he has long sought.

Carecyn stifles a yawn and blinks slightly. Listening to Malahir give the direction Carecyn falls in slowly behind another green clad man greeting him with "Morning brother." After the simple exchange the two walk in unison slowly behind the rest.

Analdin's brow remains raised with curiousity, espicially as Boromir asks Malahir to lead the way.. and catching sight of him in the first place. The young officer makes no move to speak up, only follows behind without a sound but his curiousity rising fast.

Keleir rises quickly with the commotion coming of men arriving out of the garrison, peering amongst them to see what the matter at hand is. The Steward's Son's voice rises above the rest, calling out to those within the bellow of his earshot and the scout steps over to Fanathir and gives him a hard nudge with the toe of his boot, "Wake Fana.. some urgent has come up", he says down to him and turns to gather up his bow and sword laid to rest by his place at the fire. Strapping on the sword and slipping the bow over one shoulder, he makes ready to join those moving out.

Torelin quietly watches the company start to move out, under the direction of Malahir. He falls in step behind the scouts and nods as he passes those he knows.

[Nikera(#23957)] Wrapping a cloak tightly about her, the small woman remains to the rear of the party. Coming to stand amidst a group of squires as they form up to go with the party

[Fanathir(#15042)] Just a slight shake flashes through the body of the sleeping Ranger as he comprehends the reality and jumps up, his elbows behind his back serve as a support, "Urgent Keleir?", he grumbles with rough voice, "Yes, it better be!", he hisses on as he tries to make his way onto his feet. Standing up he grabs his bow, cloak and gauntlets and grabs an unknown pitcher laying not to far away, without even considering it for a second he spills its content over his head..., "Tea!", he screams and phews. His face turning red again he looks around confusingly and glances at Keleir, "Your guide my friend, I'm not all aware of the situation here..", he grumbles.

You move west, further away from the Garrison and the river.
Osgiliath: Western Ruins - Old Merchant Quarter
Once the bustling center of trade in Osgiliath, here at the point that the Great Royal Road first entered the city, there is now naught but broken buildings and a large open trading plaza, covered with scant grass and broken stones. Some of the buildings have crumbled in on themselves, but others are standing and in relatively good condition. It looks as if there has been an effort to keep a clear path leading to the east, and also to the southeast. Perhaps these areas are still in use.

Following the path that has been cleared, Malahir stops the group by raising his hand. Turning and raising his voice so that only the Captain General may hear, "There is a dark tunnel inbetween those walls right there", and he points to a seemingly harmless slab of wall, overgrown and straggled with ivy vines. Moving toward it he places his hands on the wall, "I found this hole that leads underneath this first wall, shall we proceed sir?".

Boromir steps foward, eager to proceed but pauses as his hand reaches the wall, "Aye, we shall enter in. But I wonder what shall we find inside? Will we all fit? It hardly looks large enough for two men, let alone the score that follow....And who shall lead? I think that we should have one in the fore who can follow and interprete any tracks that might be found inside...."

Malahir stares at the hole, which is hardly bigger than half his width, "And I shall have to take of my armor to even fit through sir. I agree with you my lord. From I saw through the hole at first glance, there isn't much room at first, then it becomes to dark to tell what is awaiting us. It's a perfect place for a trap sir", and he backs away from the wall one step.

Arnafel turns to Torelin with raised eyebrows, and says softly to him, "It seems our quest might be at an end." He glances at the Captain-General as he speaks, then falls silent, waiting for one of the accompanying Scouts or Rangers to volunteer, for surely one of them is called for here.

[Analdin(#4309)] Taking a few steps forward, passing a few men who make room for him to pass, the young Lieutenant Analdin makes his way to stand near enough to Boromir and Malahir to be heard. Pausing a moment as if with uncertainty, he finally speaks up, "If you'll forgive my interruption, m'lord, Malahir, if I may ask what caused the commotion it was out there as woke me from a nice nap?"

Torelin smiles briefly and clasps the knight's shoulder. "I would hope so, my friend. We have been through much to get this far." He continues to keep an amused face, but his eyes are hard and serious.

Elidran moves to Malahir's side, chuckling softly as he listens.

Keleir tarries at the rear of the Captain-General's party, striding alongside Fanathir in the chill of the winter morning. Heavy breaths billow out and trail off behind them and the scout peers curiously ahead as the group comes to a standstill at a slab of wall, and soon Ranger and Scout arrive to join them. "What's this then?", he murmurs under his breath to Fanathir.

[Fanathir(#15042)] "Will you go and take a look for me Keleir, I can still barely stand on my feet", Fanathir whispers and caughs as he talks. Stamping his feet he still tries to wake up.

Boromir looks back toward the rear of the gathered men and spotting Keleir points to him, "You, Keleir...I have heard you can follow a track through a swamp in the rain. Come forward and see what can be seen."

[Araloth(#29956)] Faint galloping is heard in the distance, apparently from the road to the west. A horse and rider appear suddenly, and the rider quickly dismounts. She scans the area quickly, and at finding who she is lookin for, pulls back her hood and approaches him. "Malahir.." Looking around, she frowns slightly, and pulls him aside. "Cousin.. your father requests your presence at the estate.. he says it is urgent."

Keleir spares a short glance at Fanathir, nodding in agreement with him. As he steps forward, winding his way through those that gather around the Captain-General at the wall, "Aye sir.", he says with quick bend of his waist to the imposing figure and then presses on, disappearing into the dark hole of the tunnel.

His shoulder straps released around his broad pecs, the young officer in the lead removes his cloak, his tabard and finally his chain mail body armor, the gold flecks shimmering the sable armor. Shedding the bulky armor reveals a slimmer version of the tall man, his newly shappened stomach being exposed. Looking up to Analdin when he speaks he shakes his head. He is about to speak when a rider approaches. Overhearing his cousin and her message he blushes. Turning to her he mutters, "Cousin, how did you find me here. This is not the time for family quarrels", and he raises his hand to calm the beast she rides.

Analdin casts both Malahir and Boromir an annyoed glance as any information whatsoever is witheld from him. He does lapse back into silent following once more, however, as if trying to puzzle out what is happening once more.

Torelin grabs the arm on his fellow knight and pulls him forward, as it seems to always be their friendship. "Lets get closer and see what is happening."

Arnafel casts an amused look at his comrade and smiles as he follows him. "Lead on, Torelin..."

Boromir scowls at the rider and says, "What ever it is Malahir it can wait till we are done. And now she will have to go with us. I will not leave her outside here alone." He leans forward to the opening and hoarsely whispers, "Keleir! Shall we enter now?"

[Araloth(#29956)] Furrowing her brow the maiden shoots Malahir an annoyed look. "Family quarrels? Nay, it is not so. Your brother.." Looking up at Boromir, she arches an eyebrow. Muttering under her breath, she glances at Malahir again. "Indeed."

[Nials(#29496)] Watching the group in silence, Nials notes the interest in a crack in the wall. Not knowing the relevance of it, he continues to watch without a word said.

Carecyn stands silently starring off toward the eastern horizon. His gaze is stern and unrelenting as he speaks silently with another green clad man next to him. A hushed mutter can be hear not now brother, later as Carecyns gauntleted hand moves to the hilt of his sword again. A look of impatience comes to the rangers face, but is replaced my a smug grin as the rider approaches, he chuckles to the other man "Thus the lives of Nobility in Dol Amroth no?" he chuckles again and coughs humorously.

Torelin arrives at the entrance to the cave to find himself looking up at a young woman, seemingly quite out of place surrounded by men, weapons at the ready. He makes a quizical smile and then turns back to see what is happening.

Malahir, torn between the two, Malahir looks from the Captain General to his cousin, noding to one, while holding out his hand to allow the other to dismount her ride. Still muttering silently, "You don't know the danger my father has placed you in. Come, stay close to me Araloth", and he leads her to Boromir and Analdin.

Keleir arrives back at the entrance of the tunnel, hair drenched and plastered against his forehead. Damp clothes hang from off his frame and he squints against the dim light of the winter morning as he steps directly to Lord Boromir, "M'Lord.. sure this is a maze within.", he says exasparation, shrugging his cloak back into pace, "Many tunnels leading out from one another, seemingly endless. Would you go in?", he asks with a level gaze to the taller man.

[Araloth(#29956)] A sigh escapes the girl's lips and, noticing the man at her side, smiles slightly. "Danger, eh?" She simply shrugs and dismounts by the hand of her cousin. With a slap of the flank and a soft whistle, the horse goes galloping off, towards the direction of the garrison to the east.

Boromir answers by steping forward, his bare hands grasp one of the loose stones and he places a foot on the wall for leverage. With a mighty heave and a grunt of effort he pulls loose one of the lower stones from about the hole in the wall. Nimbly getting his feet out of the way he says with a panted breath, "Aye, and so shall as many of us that can. This should make matters simpler. Now Keleir....if you would be so kind as to lead the way I think we can all fit inside."

[Nials(#29496)] Standing close enough to hear the conversation, Nials waits for those before him to make there way into the opening before moving.

Carecyn moves toward Boromir and bows to the man "If I may M'lord, I suggest that we post a watch on the outside before all enter the caverns." He looks toward the opening "I shall stand watch if it is My Lords will."

Keleir nods and answers quickly, "Aye.. all will find room within, but no more than two men abreast through the first tunnel. Bring torches and take care on the path.. tis a near river at first." Turning, he slips back in through the hole, leading the rest.
Keleir squeezes through the wall.
Keleir has left.

Malahir stares for a moment at Analdin whispers to him, "There is no time to explain my friend, if you are ready, join me in representing our company. It seems my father has reached me from his estate", and he shakes his head. Squeezing Araloth's hand he leads he forward to the crack in the wall, "I'll be right behind you cousin, there are allies on the other side of the wall already", holding his armor in one hand, ready to put in back on in haste.

Torelin moves forward, his axe readied. As he passes by Malahir, he turns his head and smiles brightly, glancing again at the noble-woman by the soldier's side. His voice is calm and joking as he says, "Seems you have a following, Corporal..."

Inside the Walls
You are standing in a thin open area between the two faces of one of Osgiliath's strongest walls. It is quite dark and not so very spacious, and more than three people begins to feel a bit cramped. It is wet here as well, the collected water from the Gondorian rainy season flowing down into this convenient conduit and pouring outwards into the city on its way to the Anduin below. All this serves to make this hidey-hole quite miserable and chilly, yet for lurking in ambush, it cannot be beat.

Keleir strides forward, footsteps splashing through water and echoing off the two massive walls that make up the narrow tunnel. With a glance backwards, he sees Boromir following steadily behind and he turns back to go forward through the damp chasm. "M'lord.. the tunnel widens further ahead and has a number of chambers and tunnels breaking away from it.", he calls back, the words echoing loudly back to him and the others that follow.

The maiden climbs nimbly through the crack in the wall, having no apparent trouble with the wet floor. Glancing back as Malahir scrambles through the opening behind her, she offers a hand for him to balance on.

Boromir steps up close to Keleir, his body not a foot apart. Looking down the tunnel he says, "It does indeed seem to widen. Though you have bravely entered the tunnel before all at this time I think it best that you stay behind, guarding our retreat with the bow you wielded so well that night at the crossroads. Carecyn shall lead from here." His hand motions the ranger forward, his words echoing down the hallway loudly enough to be heard by all though he had intended them to be quietly spoken.

Malahir takes his cousins hand and stretches through the wall, pausing to see if Analdin follows. Muttering under his breath to Araloth, "I'm glad I decided to loss some of this baby fat", as he begins to pile on the armor one at a time.

Though he follows not too far behind Malahir, Analdin casts the messanger woman a glare, something he does all to often it would seem, as she offers his aide a hand. He catches the Acting Lieutenant's mumbled words and the glaring look is replaced by a very slight smile. His attention, however, does remain on the ground before him.

Following Analdin, Nials carefully chooses his footing when he enters. Finding a level spot to place his boot, the squire nimbly climbs through the opening only to find the room growing cramped. Still saying nothing, Nials holds one of the torches that Kelier asked for.

Carecyn steps forward brushing against the wall as he passes Boromir. Nodding he looks to the captain and shrugs "As Keleir said, the way is through the chasm where it seems to become wider, I know not about these passages though. I shall lead my best M'lord." With that said he steps through the chasm his cloak soaked at the bottom.

Keleir nods wordlessly to the Captain-General, pressing himself back against the damp wall to allow him and the others to pass onward. The wet staff of his bow slips easily into his hand and he waits until the others have moved ahead before drawing out an arrow from the case on his back. Setting himself in the middle of the path, he keeps a steady eye back towards the entrance of the tunnel, guarding the party's rear.

Torelin stands just in front of Malahir, his back to the corporal. As he waits for Boromir and the scouts to decide on how to progress and as they begin to move forward, he looks over his shoulder and makes another smile. "It has been awhile since we have marched together, has it not?"

Boromir follows after the Ranger, ducking into the small opening.

You are standing in a thin open area between the two faces of one of Osgiliath's strongest walls. It is quite dark and not so very spacious, and more than three people begins to feel a bit cramped. It is wet here as well, the collected water from the Gondorian rainy season flowing down into this convenient conduit and pouring outwards into the city on its way to the Anduin below. All this serves to make this hidey-hole quite miserable and chilly, yet for lurking in ambush, it cannot be beat.

You grab a small rock and a larger area moves aside, allowing you to squeeze through a small space.

Narrow Tunnel:
The small tunnel seems to have been carved out long ago as a secret passage and has come into disrepair durring the ages it has been abandoned.

Allowing Analdin to pass as he dons his armor, Malahir motions his cousin forward, "Stay inbetween the Lieutenant and I", and he continues down the slippery path, now picking up the rear of the line as he nods to the archer he passes.

Carecyn runs his hand a long the edge of the wall and squints into the murky gloom of the cavern. He glances back and shouts out to a squire carrying a torch. "Nials, move up front, we can use that light here." Even as the lad moves forward with the light the ranger runs a gauntlet along the wall and heads down the tunnel.

Carecyn squeezes his way through the tunnel and steps out into a larger space.
Carecyn has left.

Worming his way through the mass of people between he and the front, Nials holds the torch high allowing the orange light to illuminate the corridor. His steps follow those of the rangers down the corridor.

Boromir lets Nials pass him then follows the ranger as he makes his way through the larger tunnel.

Torelin moves forward, past the Lieutenant and his corporal's unusual charge, in so doing he bows his head to the woman and enters the tunnel

Glancing about after Torelin enters, Analdin makes his way after the young knight.

Larger tunnel
A large tunnel where four stout Men may stand abreast. It delves deep into the Earth and none may know what lay hidden into its many chambers and tunnels. Beware oh wary traveller, for this does not seem to be a path for the light-hearted, step with a care!

Araloth squints in the darkness, keeping between Analdin and her cousin Malahir. Looking back again to Malahir, she queries, in a +whisper, "... ... ... ...?"

Carecyn stands before the two other openings and one door. With the light of the torch helping he looks back to Boromir "My Lord, the sound of a river runs from that direction", he points toward the steady soft rumble emerging from one of the passages. "And a door lies there, rotten to its core from the moisture." He then points to the second tunnel "That, I do not know what lies ahead through there, or the door Mlord. Do you care to enter through the door while we are here?"

Standing silently by the Ranger, Nials patiently for the directions of Lord Boromir.

Malahir moves forward to take a look at more of the tunnel, it being illuminated by the knights ahead of them. Shivering at the cold he removes his cloak, "Hush cousin, please take this cloak", and he adds with an afterthought after he looks back down the dark tunnel, "and do not be frightened my cousin".

Boromir looks about in the flickering torchlight, seeing many choices available. Pointing towards the rotted door he says, "Analdin, take a torch and check out the inside of that doorway. Carecyn, you take the way towards the river. Torelin....try the other tunnel. The rest shall wait here. If any of you spots anything or runs into danger do not hesitate to call out."

Torelin glances behind him as Malahir's voice rings out but he turns back quickly to get instructions. Wasting little time he moves forward, his axe alive in his hands and quickly disappears down the tunnel.

Carecyn nods and scurries off toward the sounds of flowing water, without turning back. He pulls his hood low over his face and draws his sword.

Carecyn wields Aegis-fang.

Malahir's words bring a questioning look to the young Lieutenant's face, but he keeps silence, his attention required on the floor and people before him to speak. However, at Boromir's words, Analdin nods quietly and draws his blade, taking a torch from his belt and lights it on Nials's before venturing through the door.

Boromir looks about in the flickering torchlight, seeing many choices available. Pointing towards the rotted door he says, "Analdin, take a torch and check out the inside of that doorway. Carecyn, you take the way towards the river. Torelin....try the other tunnel. The rest shall wait here. If any of you spots anything or runs into danger do not hesitate to call out."

After only a few long minutes, the light of Analdin's torch once more returns to the passage. He shakes his head and speaks to the Captain-General, yet loud enough that most should be able to hear, "Nothing there, M'lord. Used to be a passage in there, it looks like, but it has been cut off by fallen rock.. nothing we would be able to move at all quickly. Only some empty and rotting barrels otherwise."

Torelin returns back, breathless. His face is drawn and he quickly runs to Boromir. "My lord, I think I have found something!"

Carecyn returns soaking wet, his cloak clinging to his body, not a piece of his clothing is dry. The ranger curses under his breath then looks up to Boromir as he approaches he stops his cursing and looks at the man. "A pool of water with moss as slick as ice Sir, then a ladder leading to the basement of a dead man. If ye care for wine and rats thus the way is through the river." His comment said with almost no sarcasm.

Boromir waits as the men begin to return from their orders. He listens to Analdin's report and nods his head, silent. The same goes for Carecyn's reply. But then Torelin rushes back shouting. Stepping ahead, his hand falling to Angring's hilt he calls, "What have you found Torelin?"

Sensing rebelion from the younger lass, Malahir gathers up his cloak and places it on her, "Araloth, do not cross me. Your father would have my hide if he knew the danger you are in right now. Just stay close to me, we will be safe in this part of the tunnel", motioning to the soldiers surrounding them in a circle that equals the torchlight.

Torelin looks at Boromir with wide eyes. "A creature. A snake of sort sort...it was huge, my lord. I only caught a glimpse of it as I opened the door. And I think I saw treasure there...but maybe my eyes play tricks."

Analdin's eyes widen slightly, and he studies Torelin's face, "A serpent?" he questions softly, as if to himself.

"Very well," the messenger sighs. "If it is your wish." Hearing Torelin's cries, she turns and peers quizically at him. The mention of a huge creature -- a snake, possibly -- as well as treasure widens her eyes. Grinning to herself, she falls back next to Malahir. "A surprise he came out alive.."

Boromir draws his blade as the young knight describes briefly the huge serpent inside. Quickly ordering some of the men to stay back saying, "Half of you stay behind, there's likely not room for all of us to fight inside and I wand Araloth kept safe. The rest of you follow me!" His voice rising into a shout as the words come forth and then, heedless of waiting to see if his orders are folloowed he rushes past the knight and into the passage.

Carecyn stays in the cavern, with the half that stays behind.

Allowing no time to be left behind, blade already drawn, Analdin almost jogs behind Boromir.

The Beginning of the Catacombs
Strange is the ways of fortune. For now you have come upon what can only be catacombs. Long and winding, many rows disappear into the gloom. The bones of the desecrated tombs litter the floor, dust crinkling upon their ivory like sheen. A most inhospitable place.

Nials follows the Son of Denethor holding his light shedding torch.

Torelin stops and looks about him. He studies the walls and turns back to Boromir with a look of slight confusion. "It is hard to see in these tunnels but I believe we must to the left tunnel, my lord."

Boromir stops himself from heading towards the right and presses forward past the others into the indicated passage.

Holding his torch high to join Nials's in bringing light to the cavern, Analdin remains in the rear of that half of the company who followed Boromir, sword drawn against a possible attack from the back.

The Ancient Chapel
You have come upon what can only be described as a ruined chapel. The altar, once set in honour of Illuvatar, has been cast down and smashed into the rubble that lays under your feet. Pews, of wood, are now withered and only the fragments of their rotting corpses remain to be seen. There are two doors here, a Ancient door, wrought of steel and seemingly still strong, and then other doors, beaten doors of heavy stone now mingling in the rubble.

Torelin moves past the Captain to examine the doors. He touches the stone door and quietly says, "this is the one."

Nials steps into the ruins of the chappel taking care not to slip on the rubble lining the floor. His eyes search about the room, but then his gaze finds the stone doors indicated by the Knight.

Boromir nods, drawing a deep breath before taking the doorway as pointed out by Torelin, his eyes pass over those brave enough to have followed him into the dark pit. He says, "Take care now, if the serpent is half what Torelin described his poison could kill us all. Now...follow me." He then turns and enters the doorway.

The Treasuries of Osgiliath
You have come into a wide room. This place is vaulted into the gloom above by many furlongs and racks and stone shelves line the walls. For those travellers who know some things about such places as this, then they would know that this is indeed the treasury of Osgiliath. Yet. There is nothing here. This place was plundered long ago in the deep days by orcs and other enemies of Gondor. There is nothing save rubble, and wait. There, up upon the high wall, too great a distance to touch but somehow there is an etching there, made of red dye, or is it long dried blood, preserved in the dry air of this ancient place.

The Etching on the Wall:
This etching, made of blood depicts a great helm shaped into the likeness of a dragon. Even in blood, it is amazing how well represented it is. Underneath, scrawled are the words: Barad Castamir.

You hear a long and deadly hiss, come from the darkness. At length, a cold and creeping thing finds its way to wan light. With gleaming eyes it looks outward. And then... slowly, a hissing sort of half chortle laugh, coming from the evil spirit imbibed in the creature. And then, to the wonder of all... a voice:

WHO COMES TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER???

With cold malicious eyes, this serpant with long fangs is at least 20 feet long. Colored of crimson, it hisses as you intrude its den.

Boromir, like the others is shocked to hear the serpent speak as if a man. Fully expecting a sudden attack he is so surprised he takes a step backwards. But drawing upon his bottomless courage he says, "It is I, Boromir, son of Denethor. I have come to claim the helm of my ancestors. Any who seek to stay me shall feel the bite of my blade. And who are you, he who speaks from darkness?"

Torelin stands beside Boromir, his axe and shield hardly ready as he stares in awe and fear at the unearthly creature before them.

Stepping through the doorway just behind the Son of Denethor, Nials looks about the room for signes of this giant serpant Torelin has described. Only the voice is heard though, cold and rasping, chilling the bone. Fighting the fear that wells within him, Nials tosses the edge of his cloak over his shoulder and makes ready the hilt of his blade.

Stepping into the large room, Analdin shoulders his way past the Squire to stand on the other side of Boromir from Torelin. At the sound of the voice, he holds his torch a bit hight, and grips his blade tighter.

The hiss begins again, and then laughter:

SO! BOROMIR SON OF DENETHOR, KNOW YOU STAND BEFORE SOTH SERPANT OF THE SPAWN OF WYRMS! IF COME YOU FOR MY TREASURE, THEN YOU SHALL DIE AS A THIEF. YOU AND ALL YOUR VAGABONDS!

Strangely, the beast may speak of treasure, but there is little here save for some crumbling rocks. Perhaps the serpent is deranged?

Elidran grimaces at the loudness.

Keeping silent, letting the Son of Denethor do the talking, Analdin keeps his blade up and at the ready should the serpent decide to attack too suddenly. His eyes stray to the darker corners of the room, those the light of the torches does not reach, just as much as on the large snake.

Boromir draws himself up to his full heigth saying, "Then you keep the emmisary of the Steward from his rights. For this you shall die." Waving the rest forward he bellows, 'Slay me this serpent and the helm is ours!" His actions no less forceful then his words he leaps to the attack!

Torelin finds himself again as the snake speaks and readies his axe that has served him so well. He takes a step forward and does not have to wait long for the command to attack. He follows right behind the the lord, a grim expression on his face.

Elidran slips his sword stealthily from it's sheath, his eyes narrowing as he moves towards the others.

Suddenly, the serpant lunges forward leaping with a cold snapping jaw at Boromir!

Carecyn emerges from the stone doors his sword drawn. He makes no sound and cast little shadow in the flickering light. What he sees in front of him slows him not but obvious surprise lies upon his face as he slings his shield over his body and onto his arm. He speaks naught and moves to Torelin side behind Lord Boromir.

Analdin is not long behind Boromir, for as soon as the Steward's son leaps to attack the beast, the Guardsman brings his blade up and makes to attack the serpent.

Having little experience with fighting snakes, Torelin decides his best bet is to just hack at the creature. Aiming for any part of the serpents body he drives his axe downward...

Nials draws his blade, Silme-Raana from it's sheathe with a steely ring filling the air as the blade is wielded.

With a grim look Nials tosses his torch to the far corner of the room for more illumination. After this, the squire reaches down and draws his blade from it's sheathe. But for a moment he watches the serpents movements before moving to attack. As the serpent lunges, Nials breaks into a run aiming his sword at the beast head using the same manuever he used againt the trolls. His strides quickly place him infront of the beast lunge, his blade aimed at it.

Raising his sword finally, after adjusting his grip some to account for the unusual opponent, Analdin finally brings the blade down in a cut that would slice the serpent's neck... supposing the attack works as it should.

Attacking yourself? Seek therapy, not combat. Or try using +SUICIDE.

The Serpent screams, the voice, strangely and altogether evil: DIE NOW AND CURSE IN VAIN!

The creature's scaley armor sways back and forth, a wyrm of evil mind and power.

Boromir had moved to attack the serpent but Nials' quickness finds him unable to get close to the beast that coils about itself.

Elidran attacks A Large Serpent with his Longsword and badly wounds him!

Sirion looks on, the blade of Inalantadil pale in his hands. But yet his eyes linger about in the ruins, searching.

Carecyn moves away from the light in the corner of the tunnel, his gray eyes glittering in the dim torch light. As the others attack he watches and waits patiently. As Analdin blocks the snakes bite with his sword Carecyn takes his chance and thrusts down at the body of the serpent.

Entering the room, Malahir stumbles over a rock and lands in a heap nearly two meters from a gigantic serpent's tail. As the serpent is being attacked by the other parties along it's scaly body, it manages to swing its coiled body outward, and reveal the grotesquely sharpened spiked tail at the prone guard. Malahir swiftly removes his blade and raises it in defense.

The serpent screams again, blood gushing from its skin, deadly blows granted to it. Yet it snaps in a wild frenzy at the foolhardy.

Elidran backs away, clutching his side, grimacing in pain.

Torelin feels the weight on the snake's body fall on his shield. He quickly gains some confidence over his fear and lunges forward again, letting his axe blade fall again on the serpents scales.

Analdin fends off the snake's bite, his longsword scraping against the large fangs. It requires a bit of footwork, but thanks to Elidran's attack on the beast, he escapes injury. He attacks once more the scaly skin of the snake's long body, plunging his sword into its side.

His blade sliding neatly into the side of the beast face does little to stop the beast lunge which connects solidly with with the squires body. The enormous fang bite into the man, to which a scream of pain is release as Nials is casually tossed aside by the beast.

The Serpent snaps its jaws, a gurgling from its throat.

Elidran lunges at the beast, slashing with his sword!

Carecyn watches the serpent as it is able to quickly recoil and attack then attack again. As he watches the serpent he waits for a time when its uncoiled and swings his sword down and brings his shield in front of his body.

Malahir blocks the blow of the serpents tail with his sword, the menacing scales on his tail acting like blades of their own. He struggles against them and crawls out from underneath. Taking his hilt with both hands he chops down at the tail like he had an axe.

Though his first attack suceeded without injury to the man, the second time he attacks the serpent its retaliation catches a not-quite-prepared Analdin. The other end of the small dragon, it's tail, while swishing back to hit Mlahir, manahes to knock the young officer almost off his balance. Regaining his feet, Analdin once more attacks the beast.

Being tossed aside like a rag doll does little to stop the squire from attacking again. Picking himself up from the ground, hold the wound with his free hand, Nials draws close once again to attack the minature dragon. This time staying away from the things head.

Torelin feels the sting of fangs graze across his left shoulder. He grimaces and lashes out again, letting his size enter his blow. As he swings he calls out to Carecyn, "Aim for old wounds! We'll make it bleed to death!"

Sirion says quietly, "The eyes."

Elidran lunges at the beast again, swinging his sword over his head.

Boromir finally forces his way into rang of the dragon, his fury rising as the his men are struck again and again. Raising his shield above his head to protect from the return strike he lashes his blade at the creatures neck.

Elidran staggers back, clutching himself. He leans against the wall, pale and in pain, dropping his sword, "cursed monster. I can fight no more..."

A Large Serpent collapses to the ground, defeated by Boromir!

Carecyn steps asaide the attack of the serpent and again moves back watching it with care. As the serpent lunges forward yet again Carecyn swings his sword horizantaly at the serpents front.

A Large Serpent collapses to the ground, defeated by Carecyn!

The serpent screams once more and then collapses on the ground dead. The sword of the son of Denethor was too much for him.

Analdin's blade glances off the serpent's scaly hide, and it once more retaliates for the small stings of the men's attacks by bringing its fangs to bear on the young Lieutenant, who blocks the blow with his shield, pausing a few moments before attacking once more... Only to find the beast dead from Boromir's blade.

As the blade passes through the serpents neck Boromir shouts exaultently, "Thus shall all fall who stand between the men of Numenor and that which is their right!"

Sirion looks at Boromir amazed, "You are a worthy Man son of Denethor. But I fear this may be in vain, for I see naught here but ruin and rubble."

Missing his swing, but also dodging the beast counter, Nials moves to stand near Lt. Analdin and Lord Boromir again. As soon as he is ready for the beast next attack, falling to the blade of Lord Boromir.

Malahir plumets his sword into the serpents tail, losing his blade in the flesh of the scaly monster. In it's final death blows, as the whole party strikes it down, it's tail lands almost on top of Malahir, scrapping by his shoulder and opeing up a small wound.

Torelin lowers his shield as the dragon drops to the ground. He raises his axe and cries out, "Lord Boromir!"

Analdin pulls out a cloth and quickly wipes the serpent's blood from the blade of his sword before lowering it and stepping to stand once more beside Boromir. He speaks not, but rather his eyes search over the small party, searching for those who appear injured.

Boromir pauses in his joy at seeing the beast dead. He hears well the words of the knight Sirion and glances about the ruined room. He says, "You speak truely....I see no treasure here...."

Torelin turns to Sirion and kicks the dragon once. "What is this thing, my lord?"

Elidran grimaces, and watches with concern, too weak still to move as he leans against a wall, looking infuriated at his own wounds.

Sirion replies, "We must search the room. But we must be careful, there are pits and cracks everywhere. Such as what became of the mighty treasury of Osgiliath." Sirion then turns to Torelin turning his old eyes upon him, "I do not know," replies the knight, "But there are many powers in the world for good or evil. Some of which I hope we never meet."

Malahir doesn't register the blow, but merely removes his sword from the dragon, using his boot as counter weight on his scaly hide. He idly wipes the venomous blood from his blade on a dead soldiers cloak, "poor creature", he mutters. Staring at the soldeir, but possibly refering to the dragon.

Sirion says as he looks upon the room trying to discern something, anything, "Lord Boromir, perhaps we may take this creature's carcass. It's hide is as strong as chain. Perhaps we may fashion a weapon or armor from its dragon-horn?"

Sighing with relief at the death of the beast, Nials wipes his blade off then replaces it in the sheathe at his side. Limping over to the corner to regain his torch. Lifting the light up, the squire spots a glint of red on the stone walls to which his curiosity draws him too. "Lords," the squire says in a loud tone, "There is something here upon the wall."

Nials sheathes his blade, Silme-Raana once again at his side.

Sirion glances at Boromir then Torelin and with curious steps approaches Nials.

Boromir kneels beside the wounded guardsman, Elidran. His unskilled hands gingerly touch the wounds, he looks at those around and says, "We must make a beir and take this man to a healer. He has been sorely wounded. And then we must search the room. Raise high the torches and see what we can find.

Nodding at Sirion's words, Analdin picks up the torch he so carelessly dropped in the heat of combat, which had rolled nearby and managed to remain lit. He holds it up, shedding a bit more light upon the room, though makes no immediate move to begin searching... Yet, as Nials's speaks, he moves the torch so the light shines a bit more on the wall where the red markins show.

Sirion narrows his eyes, "Lord Boromir! A moment!"

Boromir looks up from the wounded man at Sirion's words, "Have you found it Sirion?"

Carecyn steps forawrd and speaks clearly to Boromir while heading toward Elidran "My Lord, I am a healer, trained by my fellow brothers." He speaks not openlly of the rangers around such men of other areas but moves to Elidrans side, he sheaths his sword and remves his shield.

Malahir walks casually up to Boromir and Elidran and says in a gruff voice, "He is my man, I shall be responsible for him my Lord", and he offers the wounded guard his hand, "Elidran, you fought bravely".

Sirion says softly, "My lord, there is an etching upon the wall. An words, though they are of an ancient mode. That speech which the High Men of Numenor once used. I may be able to translate it. Come Boromir, can you read the words?"

Hearing Malahir's words behind him, Analdin turns, "You have a wound which needs to be taken care of as it is, Malahir. Let the healer, for I believe he is as he says, take care of Elidran. Your eyes may be needed, if your shoulder is not too injured."

Torelin stares at the etching before them and sighs, his background not lending itself to the pursuit of language. He looks about him and sees if he is needed anywhere else.

Stepping out of the Lords' way, Nials still hovers near his discovery shedding light upon it for the two leaders to read. Holding his side, the young squire watches silently.

Carecyn rips a strand off of his green cloak and then another. He looks at Malahir "He is your man sir? Do ye wish not for I to attempt to lessen his pain and improve his ability to fight in the future?" His gray eyes still flicker in the fire light, and no sarcasim or resentment shows in those eyes.

Boromir rises from Elidran's side as Carecyn kneels to see what can be done. He approches the etching and through the flickering light says, "I can see the helm, and the word Barad is there...that much is obvious....'Tower' That much I know. And I take it that Castimar...is that not the Traitor that cause this once great city to lie now in ruins?"

Malahir looks down at the healer at his feet and shakes his head earnestly, "I so not wish to interfer, proceed with what you need to do", turning to his commander, a young officer with blond disheaveled hair falling from under his helm, "As for me Analdin, my shoulder will be fine as it is. I have had worse on the training grounds".

Sirion nods and says, "Verily. The Usurper of the Kinstrife who took many of our folk to Umbar, thence they became one with the Black Numenoreans. Yet they speak of the Tower of Castimir. Barad Castimir. And look, there below it, a picture. Verily, it is the same one of the scroll of Curunir. An image of the Dragon-Helm." He turns and looks at the company.

Carecyn starts to apply the bandages to the obvious areas and unbuckles the mans armour, moving it over his head gently. Squinting in the light he applies the remains of his cloak to the wounds and then ties the makeshift bandages tightly about the man.

Torelin moves closer, now interested as the older knight explains the drawings in more detail. He looks to Sirion and Boromir to explain what this all means.

Analdin casts Malahir one of those 'we'll speak later' looks, though he does place a hand on the Acting Lieutenant's not injured shoulder and says quietly, "I am glad, then, but now do as you're needed to." Finally turning to Sirion, the young Guardsman asks finally, "Do you know what those etchings mean, then? Translated and put together? I am no student of history..." he trails off with a shrug, a questioning look to his face.

Boromir curses softly as the elder lord brings up the history of their common ancestors. He says, "But where would the tower be? In Umbar? "

Sirion closes his eyes and then says, "Fate smiled on me that I was learned in lore at Edhellond among the knights in the days of the sovereignty of Adrahil the Prince. For if I remember aright, Barad Castimir is an old fortress in that land of debate: South Gondor tis called. Perhaps this helm was brought thither." Sirion then says, "Nothing plainer is said, but perhaps when Castimir removed the throne to Pelargir he took this trove of Numenor with him, and deposited it thence. It is a chance, a slight one and a brief one, and tenuous, and perhaps perilous. Yet still we may find the Helm of Hador in those ruins. I fear that I am bound now by my oath and honour to seek out perhaps this deadly end." Sirion seems to pale.

Malahir bends down by his acting corporal and the healer and asks plaintively, "Is there anything I can do to help sir?", he reaches out to hold the ad hoc bandage Carecyn places on one of Elidran's wounds.

Silently the squire stands, similar to a statue, as he watches the exchange between Boromir and Sirion. Only moving his arm slightly as he holds the light shedding torch, otherwise there is no movement from Nials. But at the Knight's words, he speaks, "I will accompany thee then my Lord Sirion." his voices says in loyalty.

Torelin lets his bloodied axe fall into his belt and he listens to Sirion's always honest words. "We are both bound Lord Sirion, but perhaps this is good fortune to find such clues today, for it seems we are close to the end of our quest."

Boromir takes his cloak and wipes clean the blood of the serpent from his blade, setting it then in it's sheath. Looking to Sirion he says, "I of course shall continue onward to see the quest to the bitter end. But now, let us take our leave of this place and see to the wounded. We shall leave for this tower as soon as those who can mend quickly are able."

Nials draws his blade, Silme-Raana from it's sheathe with a steely ring filling the air as the blade is wielded.

Sirion looks to Boromir, "Lord Boromir, I would have begged of you to leave me. No man's valour is as great in Gondor as your own. Aye, let us leave this place, but we should return, for perhaps the smiths may take the hide of this beast and transform it into a tool that may be useful in our need."

Carecyn shakes his head toward Malahir "The best now is to let him rest and keep him off his feet." He shrugs "That is all."

Analdin nods quietly, keeping his own silence, though from the stern look to his face it is apparent that this officer doesn't plan to be left behind when it comes to the rest of the quest.

(Note: Not too long after that, a couple of us are still making our way out of the place)

The Ancient Chapel
You have come upon what can only be described as a ruined chapel. The altar, once set in honour of Illuvatar, has been cast down and smashed into the rubble that lays under your feet. Pews, of wood, are now withered and only the fragments of their rotting corpses remain to be seen. There are two doors here, a Ancient door, wrought of steel and seemingly still strong, and then other doors, beaten doors of heavy stone now mingling in the rubble.

Resting on the edge of what was once the pulpit of this ancient chapel, Nials leans against the solid stone wall holding his side. The torch he had carried all this time rest now in one of the many iron rings made for it's holding. His eyes search the room, but are also lost in thought and a grim look is upon his face again.

After the long battle with the serpent, then the discovery of the runes upon the wall, the small band begins to make its way out of the passages. They do not all go together, however, straggling out in twos and threes. Analdin comes as one of the last, long after Boromir and Sirion have left. Once the rest of the men are out of the cavern which held the serpent, the young officer almost collapses in the chapel outside the door from what appears to be.. exhauston.

Malahir walks from the other direction, coming from the winding tunnels. His voice can be heard calling out a name, "Araloth!", long before his shadow fills the ancient chapel antechamber. Exhausted as well from the fight with the serpents deadly tail and now the searching for his lost cousin, Malahir collapses on a rock nearby some others, not aware of his surroundings.

Not a word is uttered from the squire as he watches his friend plop down on the ground. His eyes still looking about the room in wonder, and upon closer inspection pain. The torce illuminates the long dark room, showin onlookers the long state of disrepair. This once great chapel has long ago succumbed to the passing of time. Again nothing is muttered when Malahir enters calling for his cousin. The torchlight shines down on the resting squire hiding his face in the shadows but giving light to his sea blue eyes.

Finding a nearby stone, the young officer of the Guard sits not too far from Malahir, though doesn't seem to take notice. He leans back against the wall, ringed eyes skimming the room. Letting out a long sigh, he lays his sword across his knees and, pulling a rag from inside his talbard somewhere, beings to work off the blood stains.

"It all seems so useless," comes the squires voice from his seat on the pulpit, "We fight but find nothing, but then we keep fighting and then find nothing again." Turning to look at the Lt., Nials sighes loudly, "We face Trolls, dragons, Harads for what. . .to find a drawing on a wall?"

Elidran frowns, "I'm sure there's more to it."

Malahir overhears the conversation, but keep silent. He rubs his shoulder, which is stained red, but heals naturally. He looks to the lieutnenant for a reply, his interest sparked now that he is apart of the quest.

Analdin heaves a heavy sigh, letting the rag fall upon his sword as he closes his eyes with exhaustion a moment, "Not so bad as that, Nials. 'Tis the way of questing, if I remember my history rightly. Never easy, requires a lot of work, even more failure, and oft times the quest is never finished." Pausing a moment as if to regain unusually short breath, he adds, "I do hope our case does not end up as the latter. For all this effort, finding this helm would be a great reward."

Elidran shrugs, wincing as the gesture causes him pain, "Quests can go well, or badly. One never knows till the end, huh?"

Analdin nods to Elidran's words, "Exactly."

Malahir coughs, making his presence known to all, "I agree with the lieutenant, what we have found is another piece of the puzzle. It's like when I found this crack in the wall, who knew it would lead to this. Now we have found another. We follow where it leads us", and he mentions silently, "to glory I pray".

Elidran smiles, "I for one am willing to take the risk, or I'd not be here."

"Every day we are told that we draw closer to it," Nials starts his temper flaring slightly, "but yet we never do, we chase ghost and fairty tale myths. We place our lives in the most dangerous situations imaginable, and come away with nothing to show for it cept more scares." Pausing for a breathe, Nials draws his hand away from his side. His eyes find there way to the form of Malahir, "You speak of glory, but yet you have just joined this 'quest'," he spits the word from his mouth, "I mean you no offense, Malahir, but pray you find what we have been through before you go off on ideas of glory and honor."

Once more picking up the rag with tired hands, Analdin begins to rub hard on one particular stain which refuses to come off the blade's steal. Mumbling something about reforging, he continues on to another one, a red streak that comes off with little effort. As Nials speaks louder, a bit faster, and obviously with some frusteration at the direction the quest has taken, the young officer holds up a hand, his face a bit more pale than normal. "Speak not so violently, my friend. We have a long and arduous task behind us, coming so far, but perhaps more so before us as we draw nearer to our goal. Glory matters not so much as survival and success." He stops, as if there were something mroe, but his breath was too short or he was too tired to continue.

Malahir turns to Elidran and nods tipping his helm to his forehead. He then turns to wear the disgruntled knight sits, his shadowy form becoming omninous to the guard's eyes, he speaks, "I take no offense sir knight. I can only imagine how your travels faired. But join with the exhuberants of the newcomers on your quest, we shall prevail my friends, we shall if we keep our spirits up".

"Aye that my friend," Nials says to Analdin, "And being the fool I am, I shall continue with you on this adventure." His words ring out, this time not in anger but in sorrow, "For each of us quest for different reasons. Lord Boromir and Lord Sirion for the glory and honor of Gondor, Lord Torelin and Arnafel for their own personal glory and honor, you I know not," he proclaims, his voice dropping to near whisper at the last few words, "As for me, I care for neither the honor nor glory that comes with it, I do this for the love of my wife for that is the one thing I care for in this life. I fight to know that she will be safe."

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

A wan smile touches Analdin's face at Nials's words, "'Tis a good thing to be fighting for, if any." He pauses a moment before continuing.. yet when he opens his mouth to continue, no words come out, and he closes it once more, closing his eyes in silence and slowly tucking the rag away in his talbard. Picking up the sword across his knees, he makes to place it in its scabard, yet it seems that he... drops it back to his knees? For fall back it does, and he once more leans back against the wall with apparent exhaustion.

Malahir breaks off into a reverie at the mention of wives. He remains silent as the room falls silent for a moment as well. Malahir seems to have the life poured back into him all at once, "Excuse me sirs, have you seen my cousin, the one lass that accompanied us into the tunnel?".

Raising the hand that had been clutching his side, Nials points to the door. "She went that way," he says, but as he looks at his hand, all he can see is blood as it drips from it.

Malahir stares at the man from Dol Amroth and stands, "I thank you good sir. Honor comes in many forms young squire. Would you like to have that injury looked at?", he questions frankly, meaning nothing but concern.

Analdin shakes his head, "I've not seen her, Malahir... Cousin, you say?" He takes a few long, deep breaths, then once more lifts his sword to slide it into the talbard, yet can't seem to summon the strength... a strange feat for this son of a blacksmith.

"If you wish," Nials says, "But I warn you now that it is quite ghastly."

Turning on his side the squire reveals what looks to be an enormous bite mark on his side. Parts of his armor are missing and there are large teeth marks all in his side. Blood slowly flows from the wound, though not at an alarming rate.

Elidran grimaces, "That /is/ a nasty wound."

Malahir, alittle apprehensive at first, strides over to the injured man. Only going by the field experience he's picked up over the years, he lifts the man's blood soaked sleave of his tabard and reveals a gash below his ribs, that even now gushes with blood like a warm spring from the cool Earth. He grimaces, "Lieutenant, we must take this man to see a healer, let's try to stop the bleeding entirely first tho", looking at the squire, "do you mind?".

Nials laughes weakly, "Mind if you stop me from leaking?" With another weak laugh, Nials looks at the man with a pale face, "No I most certainly do not mind."

Nials's wound doesn't seem to phase the young Lieutenant as it may others, for he hardly seems to see it. Nodding numbly at Malahir's wounds, he motions with a weak wave to Elidran, "The Private is wounded badly as well. And you have something of a scrape yourself, Malahir." Finally getting the sword put away by taking off his sword belt, setting the sheath over his knees, and sliding the blade into it before rebuckling his belt around his waist, Analdin places a strong hand on a large rock nearby and begins to stand...

Only to sit once more, breathing hard.

Malahir chuckles nervously, "You have your sense of humor left, at least the quest didn't take that away", and he busies himself with making a bandage for the wound, tearing his cloak into strips, "Don't watch this, it's my first time", he winks.

"I'll remember that," Nials says lightly, then turning away from Malahir the squire watches Analdin for a moment, "You seem to be haveing trouble my friend, did that over grown lizard take too much out of you?"

Malahir places his hand upon the wound and presses hard, keeping the two sides of his flesh firmly together to they may heal properly, with little scarring. He winds the man's rib cage with the rest of his black cloak, holding the bandages in place. He stands up, only to be knocked back down by that invisible demon, called fatigue.

Analdin's eyes snap up from the stone floor as Nials speaks to him, and he shakes his head a bit too sharply, "No, Squire. Simply done too much in the last day or so. The commotion Malahir here brought just outside my quarters woke me up all too soon after I had gotten to sleep. Too much strenuous work and battle after too little sleep never helped a man." Yet his fatigue, that which could rob even this strong man of his strength, seems to be more than that. And he does not make another move towards standing, just sitting on the rock and breathing heavily from his first try and his long speech.

Grunting slightly in pain as Malahir treats his wounds, Nials lets out a quick breath then looks again at Analdin. "I find it strange that you, The Lieutenant of the Minas Tirith Guards could be so worn out for lack of one nights complete sleep. I myself have seen you stand guard all night then march out the next morning keeping pace with the rest of us."

A slight, tired smile tuoches Analdin's face, "This quest has taken a lot out of me, my friend. I have not had a decent night's rest in many a night, for all the worry over my men. 'Tis no easy task to be a commander so far from one's commandees.. Even with so able a replacement." With those last words, his ringed and sparkle-less eyes turn to Malahir.

"As you say my friend," Nials says laying his head back on the wall. Then struggling to rise, the squire limps to the door of the room, "Speaking of rest, I urn to be out of this place now." With that, the man steps through the doorway out into the catacombs, his torch shining in the darkness untill he is far down the winding tunnel.

Malahir turns to Analdin, a smile resplendent on his face. "The Lieutenant deserves some rest, you both do", he offers his commander his hand, "shall we make for camp before nightfall?".

Analdin nods quietly as Nials leaves, making to rise and see him off but having a hard time of it... so hard that he simply slides back down to the stone and breathes once more. "Aye, we ought to," he almost mumbles in response to Malahir's question, and, taking the taller man's hand with his own large one, he puts a good bit of weight on the Acting Lieutenant's arm before actually making it to his feet. Once up, however, it seems he exherted himself a bit more than expected, and has to lean heavily against the nearby stone wall for support, his breath coming to him shortly.

Malahir hefts the large build man up with the arm of his wounded shoulder. The wound being so slight, his armor taking the worst of the glancing blow, the effort doesn't phase the guard. He does breath heavily, the fight and the long days search of the ruined city for the secret passangway taking a toll on the young man's strength. He calls out for others in the room, "We must find the strength to move on, a creature like that may have kin, and as soon as they find the dead carcass, we'll be outmatched. Use a partner to walk if you have to", and he eyes Analdin questionably, "how are you sir?".

Analdin shakes his head, "I shall make it well enough. Just need... time... to breath." With those last words, he nearly collapses against the wall, struggling to get his feet underneath him, and taking a few steps towards the door... very unsteady steps. For the first time a long rip in his talbard can be seen, as well as his shirt beneath. Why, it almost seems that his very chain armor has been ripped, for a long gash in the Lieutenant's stomach can be seen as he moves while standing up. It looks quite deep to match its length, though is not bleeding to badly... once he is standing, you can see how blood-crusted the fabric of his tunic is. "I'm quite well, Malahir," he finally says, short of breath and near the door.

Though the lighting of a single torch does not offer much, Malahir can plainly see that the lieutenant is being stubborn, and is not fairing well. Not knowing the extent of his fatigue, nor the injury from the fight, he waits till the others in the room empty out. Walking them to the entryway to the steel door. Now alone in the room we walks to Analdin, "Sir, you can drop the masquerade, I am your friend. Do not lie to me", he looks into his eyes, "Do you need my help to walk?".

Analdin shakes his head once more, "There are others who need your help more than myself, Malahir. I'll make it out of here on..." he trails off, gasping and clutching his stomach, hnd coming away red with blood. "On my own." he gasps out. Though the pain and exhaustion are now all too evident in his eyes, the officer still refuses aid. "Help the others, Lieutenant. Consider it an order..." yet even as he says that, he realises that Malahir has already given the wounded Elidran over to another and is free of any burden, as well as the room being emptied. This realization causes the proud young man to only shake his head again.

"Consider this a friendly offer Analdin", he offers his unbloodied shoulder and has his hand out, "The others have been taken care of. Let's drop the formalities and get out of this wretched place", adding a "sir" out of habit.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Analdin allows himself to lean on Malahir's shoulder, "Nothing formal about it, Malahir. As it should be... Men ought be taken care of before I let myself be dragged away." After a moment, however, theActing Lieutenant's words register. "And Acting Lieutenant or no, Malahir, I'm still your commanding officer and will be addressed as such. Is that under-" he breaks off his 'understood' and clutches his stomach once more, gasping.

Malahir begins to help his commanding officer out, but has difficulty keeping him upright as he doubles over in pain. He eyes his stomach that he clutches closely and mutters, "By Valar, you're hurt sir. I'm taking you a healer immediately", and he bends to left the man that is almost as big as himself. But mustering some strength from deep inside, the newly toned guard, as tall and strong as any in his ranks, lefts the lieutenant is his arms and with the added weight, attempts to make his way through the winding tunnels. Without his cloak, and his tabard riped, the chiling winds bite to the bone.

Though he is not quite conscious, flickering between a painless oblivion and wakefulness, the officer of the Guard finds himself picked up and carred out of the room. "Let me down, you big monster of a nobleman! I have no need to be carried from battle like a babe!" His rantings are only half delerious, and it's quite obvious that he knows what he is saying. "You're going to get yourself hurt, carrying me like this. If you don't set me down, I swear by my oath, I'll have you reported to Lord Boromir himself for insuobrdinarion and refusal to obey orders."

The Beginning of the Catacombs
Strange is the ways of fortune. For now you have come upon what can only be catacombs. Long and winding, many rows disappear into the gloom. The bones of the desecrated tombs litter the floor, dust crinkling upon their ivory like sheen. A most inhospitable place.

Malahir continues to struggle with the weight of the wounded man, but not with his decission to keep carrying him, "Perhaps your pride is more wounded that your stomach, but I will not take that chance. We need you back and healthy sir", he says in short choppy speach, catching his breath nearly a dozen times.

Elidran blinks sleepily, "Malahir," He grunts, "Let me /walk/."

Analdin makes to cuff the Acting Lieutenant about the ears, "Let me down, soldier!" he says once more, though the raving does sap what little strength he has. "I'll be back and healthy, aye, having walked out of this forsaken place on my own two feet! I swear, a demotion is in line if you don't set me down now, Lieutenant. You remember what it's like to sleep in the barracks and pull double duty as a Private?"

Winding Tunnel
The dark presses ever around down this narrow path which descends deeper and deeper into the ruins of Osgiliath. Oh how many Men may have passed here in the days of old, none may say, but none have trodden hither in many long years. Here, the passage opens revealing many choices. With tunnels all about, and only dark for company, the lonely adventurer may be pressed to choose wisely.

Malahir continues resolutely, and now ignores his commander, concentrating on finding his way out of the winding tunnels. Only once does he stammer, but his pace is beginning to slacken as well.

Finally, for all his wriggling and writhing in Malahir's arms, the young officer manages to escape his aide's grip and vault himself to the ground - which immediatly has him laying flat out on the floor, breathing deeply and raggedly as he stares angrily up at Malahir. "You try that again, Private, and I'll see you not only return to Minas Tirith with the rest of the company, but have double duty for a month... As messanger, from the Gates to the Citadel if needs be."

Malahir looks down regretfully at the man at his feet, shrugging in resigned apathy he walks past Analdin, "do what you have to do sir", and he doesn't care to look back.

Analdin struggles up to a sitting position, anger still bright in his eyes, though he blinks a few times as he realizes what he just said. Lowering his head into his hands, the officer breathes slowly to regain his breath, and makes no move to call out to his friend.. Nay, he makes no move to do anythign whatsoever. Even the ragged sound of his breathing seems to stop, as if he were completly motionless as only death can make a man.

The sounds of footsteps begins to get father and father away. Soon, only the drops of limestone precipatants falling from the slick sides of the tunnel and into the puddles on the ground can be heard, ticking with the rhythm of a clock.

Even as the sound of footsteps retreat, Analdin remains motionless on the ground, as if in death. Or perhaps a deep sleep, as he tries to regain his strength... and if it be the latter, with a wound such as his and the cold night setting in, he will be the former before morning.

Forming from the deep clicks of the dripping water, you can begin to distinguish a seperate set of sounds. It's the far off sounds of boots pounding wet stone, when the sound barely touches your ears. In a cavern such as this, with tunnels this tight, that distance can be quite far. Within a minute thought, the footfalls become loud and a shadow of a tall man moves across the wall. Malahir rejoins Analdin and stops before him, shaking his head sadly.

Eyes open, yet staring off into space, almost glassy, the Lieutenat propped against the wall makes no movement at all, even as Malahir returns. The blood from the slash in his gut is still bleeding, and the blood mixes with the dampness of the stones beneath him, creating a pinkish puddle which continually grows more crimson.

Malahir bends down and doesn't say a word. Inspecting the wound he addresses it with the rest of his tattered talbard. After fully closing the bleeding, he lifts the Lieutenant up gingerly, hoping not to stir him. With the wounded Analdin in tow, Malahir begins to walk once more toward the secret entryway, which he knows is just around a few more turns in the tunnel.

Larger tunnel
A large tunnel where four stout Men may stand abreast. It delves deep into the Earth and none may know what lay hidden into its many chambers and tunnels. Beware oh wary traveller, for this does not seem to be a path for the light-hearted, step with a care!

Analdin stirs ever so softly. Though he is almost as tall as Malahir, not near as large save for the smith's frame he seems to have inherited, he seems to be a bit more than the Acting Lieutenant can carry in one load... A large enough man to be a threat on the battlefield, and definitly to be a problem for one man. As he stirs some, he cries out softly, the wound obviously being more than he has made of it. His words, or word as it may be, are soft, and all that can be heard is a bit of mumbling and a name - Dric.

Malahir walks into the antechamber of the larger tunnels, where many other tunnels splinter off. Looking only at the ground as he hefts the huge soldier, he finds his cousin lying on the floor. Dropping to his knees, he unloads Analdin and scurries to Araloth's side, shaking her, "Cousin, wake up. Please, are you alright?".

Groaning as he's dropped on the floor, rand rising to rub the back of his head, the Lieutenant regains consciousness and looks groggily about. Seeing Malahir shaking something, he stutters as he asks, "You alright, Malahir? I think we need to get you out of here... I'll go get someone to assist you." With that he trails off, standing as best he can and leaning against the stone wall once more. "Oh, and, Lieutenant.. report to me when we are once more safe and out, will you? Preferably after some sleep.. for myself as well." That said, he stumbles off, literally, and manages to at least make it around the bend in the passage without falling down once more.

The motionless figure of Araloth is shaken (not stirred), and continues to stay that way: motionless. Her limp form is sprawled out along one of the walls, and to some it would appear she were sleeping. A face pale as the moon peers out from beneath a large hood, and her green eyes are hidden by her lids.