Outracing the Flames RPG

[Arry]

Wulfham

Vaenosa led the way to the wooded area. She kept the group at a fair pace, but held back enough that the four had at least some semblance of riding together. Brand continued to ride at the back, his eyes taking note of the area along the way. For the most part, the ground was rocky soil, and seemed undisturbed by the passage of animal or man or other.

Clumps of low growing bushes grew here and there with the occasional shrubby tree. He had heard that in the long gone days this area had been heavily forested, a green and rolling land. There had been no stories he recalled from his parents or those gatherings at the Lord’s hall which explained it fully and Brand wondered what it was that had happened or who had caused it.

The small, forested area must be a remnant of that long gone forest, he thought as they drew near it and rode under the bare trees. Most of their leaves had already fallen, though a few still bore a few, sere remnants that rattled dryly in the little breeze from off the river.

Dorran volunteered to set up for the midday meal while the others gathered wood for their evening camp. Brand hauled out the coil of slender rope he’d packed and asked that the two women come with him.

The trio had been at their task for a good while - gathering the smaller branches, breaking them into arm lengths and binding them into bundles that could be secured to the horses. At one point, Brand drew near where Vaenosa was working and keeping himself at a distance still from her, he began to speak.

‘I’d ask a favor of you, Vaenosa. In this task the March-warden has set us, I’d like to keep my place at the back of the group as we ride. Shepherd as I am, that’s the place I think my skills can best be used. You’re a good rider, as you’ve shown this first day out. If you’ll set the pace, I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for any unusual signs in the areas we pass through that might bode ill for us.’

He turned back to the bundle of wood he’d gathered and crouching down, began to bind it at either end. ‘Oh, and as we must all depend on one another to get through this journey safely,’ he spoke low, almost as an after thought. ‘We should try to stay in sight of each other. Should we be attacked from the rear, I would like to know you would be near enough to ride back and give me aid.’

Brand stood, flexing his back to work the soreness from it. He picked up several of the bundles he’d bound and balanced them on his shoulders. His stomach rumbled loudly, protesting its lack of food. ‘I sure hope Dorran’s dug deep and found us something good to eat. And tea,’ he said his steps taking him in the direction of their small camp. ‘It would be nice to have something hot to drink. The day grows colder . . .’

[Tevildo]

Dorran had managed to get a small fire lit and had pushed two long sticks into the ground, each with a Y-shaped prong at the end; a crosspiece was propped up between them. A small pot with boiling water hung down from the crosspiece. Dorran knelt beside the pot and set a small bag of herbs inside of it, watching it bubble merrily. Unlike some of the other young men he knew, Dorran had always enjoyed cooking. Learning to cook had been a necessity with both his parents gone and needing to care for his younger sister, epecially after their elderly kinswoman had first passed on.

A spot of hot herbal brew would do well at this point, he reflected, as he watched the steam rise from the pot and poured himeself a cup. The weather seemed to be a bit nippier than it had earlier that morning, or perhaps it was only the fact that a cloud or two blocked out the rays of the sun. Dorran was having a harder time finding anything to fix for the meal. He'd stalked around the campsite but could find no evidence of birds or small game nesting anywhere nearby. The absence of such wildlife was mildly upsetting. Usually, you could find such creatures hidden away in thick thatched grass that grew near the edge of a bushy thicket like this. But the ground here was too barren and rocky. He'd found one poor squirrel hiding in a hollow wooden log, but didn't have the heart to kill the only animal in sight, especially when it looked so puny.

In the end he stumbled upon a damp plot of land adjacent to a spring, a plot no bigger than a few feet across, where mushrooms grew in thick clumps. He harvested these and brought them back to make into a simple stew. He was not much on mushrooms, and all of the group still had other food in their packets that Aldwulf had given them. But it was probably wise to try and stretch the provisions they had by gathering things from the bounty of the land or hunting down small animals. They really had no idea how long it would take to reach Edoras, and it was best to be careful. His sister had given him so many biscuits in his satchel that he set these out on a plate to offer to the others. He thought there might be some berries nearby and hoped that someone had managed to find some. He went about his business and wondered when the others would be back in camp so they could sit down and eat.

[Undómë]

Bregoware


Meghan

‘Sounds a fair enough plan to me,’ said Meghan, urging her mount a few steps away from Osmod’s, giving his horse room to move about. She looked at the man curiously. There was a sense of unease about him, as if he were unsure of himself. Now isn’t that interesting, she thought. Her first thoughts about the rich man’s son were that he would most likely be overbearing, eager to gather what glory there might be to himself, make all decisions according to his whims. She pursed her lips, considering she might have been hasty in her judgment of him.

Fionn pulled up alongside Meghan. His horse was a spirited one and pranced about in a circle as his rider tried to rein him in. Meghan nodded to him, moving her horse again lest she be mashed between the two men’s mounts.

‘So, how about we get moving on,’ Meghan called out as she kicked Ash lightly in the flanks and set her moving westward. ‘We can talk more about our plans for when we’re across the river while were filling our bellies.’ She shrugged her shoulders, shaking off a feeling of apprehension. ‘I’ve never been across the river. Never saw the need to. Have any of you?’

[Eowyn Skywalker]

The words swirled around her, it seemed, lost to her ears and yet not to her mind. Eostre forced herself to focus on what was being said, distrusting of the people around her (for what would one expect of a woman unmarried by choice?). Osmond's eyes seemed to linger on hers for a far longer length of time than the other riders, though his words were hardly directed to anyone in particular.

"...Our mission is indeed urgent but we need to spend our energy wisely, it will not do to push ourselves harder than what we can manage... I would advise we get going at sunrise so that we get to the rafts and cross the river by noon tomorrow..."

Waiting until the other girl had finalized her reply, Eostre spoke up in a vaguely tired tone. "It would, yes, be better if we were off far earlier in the morrow. Time is of essence, but I doubt any of our group wishes to die of exhaustion rather than the sword." An ignominous fate that would be, she thought to herself. But what had left the other girl to abandon conversation that fast? Was she untrusted by more than just their leader as his lingering eye contact seemed to suggest?

"I crossed the river once before," she said in response to Meghan's remark. "But it was a few years back now. 'Tisn't hard, if that's what you fear."

[Undómë]

Bregoware


Rædwald

Líss walked along at a fair pace, but one that would not be hurried. She cared not that the man who rode her often nudged her with his heels, nor that he clucked at her with his tongue to get her to move faster. She came to a full stop, in fact, at one point, and swung round her head to give him a baleful look. Shaking her mane, she snorted, then stomped a fore hoof as if in comment on his irksome attempts. Her tale twitched in agitation, stinging him slightly as it slapped hard against his thighs. He noted though she was not vexed as yet to the point of turning round to nip him on the leg. Preceding that action would be the laying back of her ears and the drawing back of her great lips from those big teeth. Nay, he thought to himself, we have not got to that impasse yet.

‘Go on, then you great beast,’ he spoke to her, in an as authoritative a tone as he dared. ‘Set your own pace, you mis-named hunk of horseflesh. And I hope as when the Orcs and other beasties come near, you might be so gracious as to pick up your speed a bit then.’ Rædwald kicked at her flanks again, and was rewarded with a resumption of forward movement.

‘What was I thinking when I named you ‘Líss’,’ he spoke aloud. ‘You are no more gracious, sweet, kind, or peaceful than is a prickly, sticker bush.’ Líss nodded her head up and down as if to agree. ‘Your mother now . . . she was sweet as honey, and fast as a quick west wind.’ He leaned over and patted the horse on the neck. ‘And she had good manners, mind you, and always listened to what I wanted.’ The dun mare snorted at the listing of her mother’s attributes.

‘Ah, well . . . at least let’s try to get to their campsite before the fires gone out and the hot water for tea gone cold.’ He flicked the reins lightly, all the while speaking in his most encouraging voice. ‘There’ll be a measure of oats in your nosebag, my sweet, if we get there then.’

The pace picked up, if only a little, at the mention of oats. Rædwald drew his cloak closer about him. The brightness of the sun in the clear sky was belied by the chill autumn breezes.

[Farael]

They rode in an uncomfortable silence for the best part of an hour, until Fionn who had ran ahead to find a good place to stop came back with news that there was a small forest less than five minutes away. It might have been a forest a long time ago, yet this place had been cleared for the most part and not very recently. Moss grew on the withering stubs of what may have been great trees generations before. Osmod wondered absentmindedly if the rafts they were going to take had consumed this forest. It was not a pleasant thought but rafts were necessary, even more so for his quest.

They found a comfortable place, nearing the woods and yet with a few stubs they could sit on. The horses were unsaddled and set free to find some food for themselves, while the riders discussed their plans.

“I am concerned about Miss Eostre’s last comment. I did not think that making for the rafts before noon tomorrow would be much haste, but I’m not used to ride with other people’s company. Maybe you are not used to the same pace I am. I think we should all have a say on the pace of our group, we will do what ever most of us want to. Once that is settled maybe we could collect some wood for our meal. Soon it might be too dangerous to light a fire, but I think we are still safe enough.”

Having said that, Osmod grabbed a short branch that was laying nearby and drew a small pattern on the ground as the others considered their response. Whether the drawing was a name, a rune or a picture the riders could not tell. As the silence seemed to go on, Osmod looked up at them, finally making up his mind.

“Perhaps I am not the right person to lead us all. Miss Eostre, you seem to believe you know better while I doubt myself. I could not expect others to trust me when I have not the experience of being a leader. Maybe you should lead us.”

[Valier]

Wulfham


Vaenosa finished tying the last bundle of wood to take with them on their trip, she would wait till the last possible time to put them on Nay's back. He hated things on him for too long, which could be a problem on their journey.

Brand asked her if she would care to ride up front, and slyly hinted that she should stay with the group. Vaenosa was one who could not pass at the chance to pick fun of men so she said coyly and quietly. " Oh but good gentleman, that is how I would prefer it, me up front or rather...up wind.... from any foul wafting. I understand my sprint gave you all a fright, but I assure you I know what I'm doing. Piling the bundles in her arms she turned her back and walked away.

She pluncked the bundles not far away, but she did not head to the fire and the warm tea just yet. She had been here before and thought she was pretty close to a spot where there might still be berries clinging to the branches. She headed down a small rock path that lead to a slightly misshapen tree, left and just through a large earth overhang ,there was a large thorny bush of wild berries. Vaenosa pulled out her riding gloves from her belt, these would come in handy with those pesky thorns.

Vaenosa literally emerged from the bush half an hour later, with scratches to prove it. She had a broad smile upon her face, she had folded her tunic to cradle the heavy load she had produced. These berries were still fairly plump and juicy, the birds had not dared to venture that far into the thorny lair. She made her way back down the path that led to the small circle of people and horses.

She strode into the camp and made her way to Dorran. "Mistress Dorran, could you possibly find some use for these?" As she tipped her tunic slightly to show the young man the berries. "I will put them here" she said after reaching up and pulling a few leaves from a tree, she motioned towards a patch of grass, where she laid the leaves with the berries cradled on top.

All of a sudden she heard a squeal from where the horses were, wheeling around she saw Nay nipping one of the other horses, a female in the haunches chasing her around a nearby tree." Nay! you insufferable lout leave that Mare alone!" She started head long for her horse when she nearly ran right into Incana who was running to save her horse from the rambunctious colt.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


‘Now, lass, I’ve been thinking . . .’

They had traveled in companionable silence for a while, letting the miles slip by without comment. Meghan had leaned over Ash’s neck and murmured a few sweet words to her. The March-warden’s wife had chosen well; the horse was a gentle ride and seemed attuned to what her rider needed. ‘A measure of oats for you, my dearie, when we reach our campsite for the night,’ Meghan had said to her.

Rædwald’s words broke in upon her thoughts of what her family might be doing now. Did they have all the belongings loaded on the hay wagons? Had they gotten one of the neighbor lads to help herd the goats along? The herd would probably number two score and ten or so now with the addition of Rædwald’s goats.

‘And what have you been thinking, Rædy?’ she asked, focusing her full attention on him now.

He was only a few more sentences into his thoughts when she pulled her horse to a stop and looked at him in a horrified manner. He was going on about the bargain he had made with her brother Leof, and she was aghast at what he was saying.

‘What do you mean . . . When you die?’ she said in a loud voice. ‘You’re giving me your goats should you not make it through to the end of this journey. And what store of coins are left from days as a Rider for their keep!’ She fumed and spluttered, her cheeks turning bright red in anger and disbelief. ‘Don’t even think on it! You’re going back just as I will, hale and well. And if we’re lucky our two herds will have increased by several more with the interbreeding. But that’s it . . . And don’t say another word about your being killed. I won’t hear of it!’

But go on, he did . . . his helm and mail shirt, the thick leather vest for padding beneath it, and his oaken lance with the sharp iron tip . . . well, they, he hoped, she would save for her first-born son as a present from his late Uncle Rædwald. And yes, he knew they looked a bit worse for wear at the present. But he’d brought his oil and polishing cloth and at the first opportunity would set them to gleaming once again.

Meghan choked and coughed as he finished his list for her. He’d brought his horse up close to hers and pounded her lightly between the shoulder blades with one hand as he offered her a drink from his waterskin with the other.

‘First-born son!’ she squeaked, her brows inching up toward her hairline. ‘Are you mad! That would require a husband to be got and I don’t see one in my near future nor farther down the road, either . . .’

‘Now lass, I’ve been giving that some thought, too,’ he said, nodding his thoughtfully at her. And with that began a litany of various eligible males from the village that she ought to seriously be considering.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath letting it out slowly. Perhaps the earth will open up and swallow me whole! But no, there he was, ticking off the good points of Gareth, Grindan’s son, the one who farmed near the eastern edge of the village proper.

Oh, this will be a long, long ride to the river . . .

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric answered Osmod’s call and rode to his side. Then he turned to Osmod and said. “Riding with some company is always preferable to riding alone, that’s my opinion too. Riding alone you easily fall to idle fantasies or soul-wavering nightmares.” He looked at Osmod with a smile, but then got more serious: “To begin with, I’ll tell you here and now, that I do trust you. Do not be doubtful of that. And because of my trust, I think we have some things to talk. Come!” With that he spurred Thydrë to a somewhat faster pace. After making a little headway to others, and feeling Osmod coming beside him, Sythric turned to him again.

“Well my friend. You know me. I’ve been with the riders from younger years than you are now, and I have taught young people, almost as the age of you, in the skills of arms and riding for almost ten years. I’m not boasting with this, don’t misunderstand me here. But I’m just trying to give you my reasons, why I said the things I said, back there at the fire. And why I feel it to be so urgent, that you’ll take the lead here.” He glanced rapidly behind them, happily noting, that the others were following them, not too far away, but not too close either. He cleared his throat, and continued:

“So, I know something about what it is to ride in a party with a mission, and I know a lot about, how young people can behave. Now the party of young riders is just off to a dangerous and important mission, and within a day, there are two old war-horses to help them. Now how does this feel? How does this affect you? It surely takes down your self-confidence, more with someone, less with others. Now how do you vent that out? Basically you either start to pick on others, or then you wrap yourself out from others, feeling more insecure every hour, whichever option you choose. Then you start to grumble, to accuse others, to whine, and at the end you don’t trust anymore. The party is not a team then. It’s just bunch of detached individuals. And if that kind of bunch faces trouble, it won’t work as a team, and the chances of failing rise too high.” He paused for a while, waiting for Osmod’s nod to continue, as if the things said had been followed.

“So we have to do everything to heal this possible wound, before it gets sour. And the best way I can see to attain it, is for someone of you growing some stature here. Showing the others, that you people are as well suited to this job as we oldtimers are. And to show, that we oldies’ are accepting the lead of the one of you. And I thought that you were the obvious one, as I don’t know very much about Eostre or Fionn, and as I know Meghan enough.” At that last remark he grinned joyously to Osmod, and winked his eye merrily.

“Don’t take me wrong with my last remark. She’s a lovely young lady, and I really understand why Raedwald is so attached to her. The world would be a better place with more people like her around. But surely, she is no war-band or scout-party leader, as you must know. And you had been the leader anyhow, before we got here.” Sythric looked, now quite seriously, straight into Osmod’s eyes for a second. Then he turned his head forwards, giving Osmod time to think about the things he’d just said.

After a while he turned back to Osmod again, and said: “You probably remember, I have allways called you a boy or a lad – as we have met at your father’s house, or at the village festivities. Now I say, that I truly believe you will be a good Man, a man worth of your mission. Do not let me down on my trust!”

[Maeggaladiel]

The horse was, for the moment, willing to obey commands. She had calmed considerably during the short time they had ridden, once Fionn had established that yes, she was going to carry him and no, she couldn't stop every five minutes to nibble at the grass. She now seemed perfectly happy to follow his orders to the letter. That made Fionn rather suspicious, but he decided to give the mare a chance.

Clicking his tongue and touching a heel to her flank, Fionn urged the horse faster to catch up with Osmod and Sythric. The prospect of being near others of her species seemed to please the mare. Fionn personally would have preferred to take their family's horse on this trip, but he was needed for their evacuation. So Fionn was left with this nag. Oh well; make do with what you have.

He brought her alongside Osmod's horse and slowed her to match his pace. He seemed to be coming in on the middle of a conversation between Osmod and Sythric, so he gave them a polite distance so not to interrupt.

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric and Osmod both noticed that someone had rode alongside them. It was Fionn. Before Osmod had time to answer anything, that Sythric had kind of just thrown to his face, Sythric was greeting Fionn heartily. “Master Fionn, do join us with the ride. I would really like to hear, how you are feeling today, and what do you think about the mission we have”.

Hastily Sythric hissed to Osmod, so that Fionn could not have heard it: “You have something to say over the things I just talked you, let's have them later”.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan eyed the men, or that is the majority of the men as Rædwald still rode by her, who were now clumped together like ticks on a dog. There were two of them, at first, Osmod and Sythric. With Sythric talking quite seriously to the younger man. And then up came Fionn. She rather liked him; he was still boyish enough to make her smile with his ingenuous manner. Still, he was a male, and soon he would be sucked into that great brotherhood of males around which she might only stand quite prettily and quite demurely staring in.

And then of course, there was Eostre. And sometimes she almost envied the woman her fierceness. Meghan dug deep in herself and could not find an answering strain. Sure, she shepherded her little herd about and kept them safe as she could. But who was she fooling with her thinking that she could ride with such . . .

She looked hard at the group of men, her brow furrowing, searching for an image on which to pin her thoughts. Eagles. That was it. Great birds of war, all big and majestic, clear eyed and so sure of themselves.

And what was it that Rædwald and Sythric had called her. Ah, yes . . . magpie, and sparrow. Bothersome birds, the both of them. And who would think to put such a small creature among heroes. Certainly none of the tales told about the fire she’d heard had ever featured such.

‘Ash,’ she whispered, leaning low over her mount’s neck, ‘you should have nipped me hard on the leg the moment I mounted you. Woken me from this dream that I might indeed be equal to the task.’ You’ve been a fool, Meghan! she chided herself, straightening up in the saddle. Better to make the right decision now, before the river is crossed, before you become nothing more than a liability.

Rædwald’s horse nickered and bumped lightly against her boot. Meghan flicked her eyes toward Rædwald, noting with a certain irritated alarm that he seemed to be scrutinizing her. She cocked her head at those riding at the front of their little group. ‘Shouldn’t you be up there? Discussing strategy and such?’ she asked in a somewhat peevish manner. She waved him away from her, slapping his horse on the hindquarters to drive him off. ‘Go talk of plans and important matters with your fellows. I’ll hear no more of suitable husbands and first borns. My head is aching already from your idle chatter.’

She stopped her horse completely, watching as he and the others drew further ahead.

[Arry]

Wulfham

‘I thank you for your telling of Vaenosa’s story.’ Brand was quiet for a while, his face thoughtful, as he absorbed the horrid details Incana had told him. ‘It explains quite a lot about her actions.’ He put his cup aside and stood up. It was his habit when he was faced with something of a serious matter to walk about a bit. His thoughts were more easily collected and viewed as he paced, he’d found. And this was certainly something of a serious matter.

‘Someone should let Dorran know these things.’ He crouched down to where Incana still sat. ‘Will you do this? It would come better from you as her friend, I think.’

Brand raised his hand to his face, rubbing at the bandage over his wound. He stood back up again, excusing himself from her company as he did so. ‘I’ll be back before nightfall,’ he said, picking up his cloak from the ground where he’d been sitting. ‘I need to walk for a while. I have some things to think on.’

He pulled his cloak about him and nodded to her, then let his steps take him away from the camp.