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Old 03-16-2011, 08:13 AM   #56
Formendacil
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Formendacil is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Formendacil is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Formendacil is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Formendacil is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
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Amdír practically sprang into action once Brinn gave her assent to Aldarion's plan. In large groups like the Players he was not prone to lead when problems arose, but would follow orders once given regardless of the difficulty. It was the legacy of his time as a soldier, of twenty years service to great lords, but more than anything else, it was the result of having two older sisters and an older brother. The brother had died in the War, and one of the sisters had died from a winter ailment two years back, having passed her sixty-fifth year. His last sister still lived in Lamedon with her husband and children.

Funny that he should be thinking of his siblings, Amdír thought as he struck out down the streets. The last time he'd met one of them had been his now-deceased sister, who had also moved to Minas Anor in the years following the War. Her eldest daughter had since taken over the family household, and Amdír was invited over to dinner once a fortnight. He and his brother-in-law were both widowers now, and easier in each other's company than they had been in most years past.

It was Brinn's request for a healer that had Amdír thinking of his family, for they had not summoned one for his sister until it was too late to help her. Since then, he had not had cause to think of healers.

It was too far up the city to fetch help from the great Houses of Healing in the sixth circle. That was probably where Coldan would have gone, or been directed had he asked for directions, but Amdír knew that one of the healers from that house lived not far away, still in the first circle, with her great-aunt Ioreth, who had once been a healer there. She had been one of those who cared for him in the House during the War. She must have been quite ancient now--as old as they said King Elessar war, but of course the King was a very different case with his Elven blood and northern lineage--like a great Númenórean of old--though, it was said, he was also a great healer. Perhaps healers were simply better at taking care of themselves?

In any case, it was no more than a ten minute trot for Amdír to reach the healer's house. Mistress Inbeth came to the door shortly after he began pounding on it, moving with a quickness that surprised one, when you considered her years. She was nearly sixty, the grand-daughter of Ioreth's eldest sister (and theirs had been a large family), a large, grandmotherly woman whose steely-grey hair did not betray her age so well as the laughlines that crinkled her face.

"Amdír the carpenter, of Master Hallas' household, isn't it?" she asked. "What can I do for you?"

"There's a young lass with a broken ankle who could use your assistance, Mistress Inbeth," said Amdír. "She's one of the King's Players, just arrived in the city."
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