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Aduchil stod in the stables, tending to Palan's mane. Even if there were stableboys to do this job he preferred to do it himself. He had been the owner of Palan for several years now, and ever since he became a Roquen had the horse served as his steed and mount in the few battles he had fought. He touched its head affectionally, smiling as the horse snorted. When he was satisfied with its condition, he checked once more that it had water and hay and then left the stables, heading for the barracks.
He wore no armour, having removed it upon their arrival. They had been dismissed to give them time to adjust to their new surroundings before they became on duty. Yet his sword hung as usual by his waist, and he laid his left hand upon it, the familiar feeling of the hilt of the sword comforting him. A few children ran past him laughing and playing with a ball, and he caught the eyes of a few maidens, yet he took no heed but went straight to the barracks that lay next to the stables.
Once he arrived there he sat down, bringing forth some food that he had taken with him. The ride had been long and the sun hot, and so he refreshed himself, eating first and then afterwards walking outside to the well. After he had had some water and washed the dust of the road away from his face, he decided to take a look at the town. Walking down the main street he almost cleaved the human sea, standing taller than most. He did not attract any curious gazes though, most guessing from the sword he wore that he was a soldier that had just arrived in town. His pouch was full of coins and he bought an apple from an old woman, eating it slowly as he came to the outskirts of the settlement.
He saw a few soldiers and nodded to them in greeting when they like the townsfolk realised he was a soldier like them. So this was the place he was to defend with his life. It was quite different from his home of Pelargir, though the area was akin to that he had lived in when fighting in the border skirmishes against Haradrim. This time though the conditions were better, though the foes were the same. He was not as anxious to wield his sword as he had been in the skirmishes, though, for he realised that this time the lives of others were at stake; not just soldiers whose duty it was to fight, but also commoners who should not be involved in war.
He turned around and walked back to the barracks, finding his bed and lying down. He was not tired, yet did not know what else to do, and the warmth of the sun made him feel sleepy. He reckoned it would be best to be in his best shape when he was to be on duty, and no harm in preparing for that even if he did not yet know when that time was.
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