[Nerindel]

Sorlas was making his way to Islist's tent when Grod's Company arrived back at the camp, he watched as the riders ground to a sudden halt at the healing tent, they dismounted carrying someone to the tent, he couldn't see who it was over the other rangers. He was just wondering who it could be when he saw Islist rushing over to the tent. A look of concern spread across his face as he realised he hadn't seen Grod in the group.

He stopped one of the rangers that were now passing him to warm themselves at the fire, "What has happened" he asked, The older Ranger looked at him and seeing his expression he smiled weakly and said " Grod was injured, but not seriously." looking at the man he could see and smell the orc blood that was splattered across his clothes, "It went well other wise" he asked wrinkling his nose at the smell. The ranger Laughed noting his look and looking at his own blood stained clothes, "indeed it did, we kill the lot o' those stinking creatures" he boasted. Sorlas shared in the rangers mirth until he excused himself wishing to wash and change.

Sorlas turned to go look for Elleraden to find out why they were being summoned, but as he turned he saw Tarannon heading towards him leading his granite coloured horse, the two had become good friends during their stay at the camp. Sorlas had noted that Tarannon preferred to stay outside the camp most of the time seeking solitude, so he was surprised to see him and even more surprised to see him packed "are you leaving us" he enquired raising an eyebrow. Tarannon looked at him puzzled, then realising that he didn't yet know of the letter he proceeded to tell him about it.

"So we are to aid lord Aragorn" sorlas said swelling with pride "it shall be a great honour."

Just then Islist strode passed them saying "follow me", they followed and as they did he notice other of Islist's company followed also, some of them he knew and others he did not. He listened intently as Islist spoke to them, then he went round them handing out mugs of dwarven ale. Sorlas sipped at his gingerly remembering the day he had first arrived at the camp, Elrond had given him a message to give to Grod when he arrived, what was in the message he knew not, Grod had assigned him too his son's company, that night Islist had opened a barrel of dwarven ale to welcome him to the camp, but that is all he can remember of that night for the ale had quite a kick, of course he had heard the usual stories of what he had done but he would not believe any of it.

Sorlas then decided he would prepare and pack and his horse before he drank anymore. He found Telpëtal (Silver-Foot) grazing near his tent, as he drew nearer Telpëtal nuzzled him looking for a treat " sorry boy I have nothing for you tonight" the horse snorted and went back to eating the grass. Sorlas packed then repacked making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, once satisfied he decided to rejoin the group.

"More ale" he cried, forgetting his reservations.

[ May 27, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]