Here There Be Dragons - RPG

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Surinen

Making way for the Gondorians to pass, Surinen stiffened and putting on a formal air as he returned the first mate’s courteous nod, he saw no malice in the tall man’s glance, and so relaxed a little. But the moment the two had disappeared into the tent, he went up to the armed guards as they approached, grilling them in his good-natured way, on the behavior of the northerners. He was a little surprised as well as relieved to find their conduct described as faultless, the guard even going so far as to say that they took direction well under the circumstances.

“They seek to make a good impression!” Surinen pronounced wagging his finger. But attention swiftly turned from the outrider to the tent opening when to the dismay of all, the thick flap descended and was tightly secured by unseen hands. “Ah, what plans might be hatched in there? Only the unlooked for dinner guest might discover that mystery!” Surinen winked at one guard knowingly "I’ll leave you to your work then, Yemnya,” he said turning to leave and almost running into Sorona who waited behind him.

“No Surinen, they should not be disturbed,” the eagle advised. “Unless much has changed Aiwendil is honorable, and he would neither harm your encampment nor encourage others to do so.”

“This from an eagle I met only today,” Surinen sighed. “But a wise eagle no doubt, and one who seems to share the same trust in Aiwendil as Ayar.” But Sorona was looking around as he spoke, seemingly preoccupied with some other matter. “Perhaps both eagles are right, and we should leave them be,” then addressing Sonora he said, “Come friend, I know where there is ample food for us and a good lady who would be glad to share our company at dinner.”

“Thank you Surinen, but no. I would speak as soon as possible with Narika, if you would take me to her tent,” the bird said looking rather crestfallen.

“I would if I could, but I can not fly, you see…and she is far away just now. She should return soon though, for her mother has sent for her. Meanwhile, humor me by being the guest of my family, for we would welcome you heartily.”

“Then I will wait with your family until she arrives,” Sorona said accepting the invitation.

When they arrived back at Fador’s tent, Latah had finished sweeping the hard ground and had already put down the mats unrollingthe mattresses to preparing beds for her guests. Neither Narayad nor Fador had come back since Surinen had left, and their plates still sat, covered with a brightly embroidered cloth, at the edge of the table in anticipation of their return.

“Surinen it is you! I thought that Narayad had returned.”

“No it is only me, and bringing a guest to share in your feast,” he replied smiling. “That is if we are invited, and you have enough for us.”

Latah grinned and stepping up to the eagle said, “My cousin has told me about you Sorona. Please forgive Surinen for not introducing us properly; he is rude by nature and not design. And I believe him to be quite hungry by now! I am Latah and you both are most welcome to share food in my father’s tent. ”

“As for her introduction, my cousin is too modest. I would present to you Latah, an excellent cook and generous hostess, and more a sister to me than cousin, as you can see. You are now in the tent of the elder that is her father, and the one I have neglected to look for,” he said sheepishly turning back to Latah. “I have not seen him at all today,” he shrugged.

“Thank you Latah, for your kindness. It has been a long time since I have shared food with others." Sorona said.

[Ealasaide]

Mithadan and Airefalas arrived at the tent of the elderly istar just as the eagle, Sorona, and one of the tribal outriders, a lean and wiry fellow they had seen around the camp, were departing. Airefalas stepped out of their way as they passed, exchanging a glance with the outrider, who seemed to regard him with suspicion at best. Airefalas met the outrider's eyes with an even gaze and nodded courteously. The outrider responded in kind, but, even so, Airefalas had the distinct impression that this fellow trusted his and Mithadan's motives about as far as he could spit into a strong headwind, which was not far at all.

He supposed such a reaction should be only expected, considering the timing of his and Mithadan's arrival into the Eagle camp. With the tribal leader lying on the brink of death, the victim of an unknown assassin's strike, and the tribe itself poised on the brink of war, Airefalas knew that they were fortunate to have been granted as much hospitality and freedom as they had. The fact that he and Mithadan had been allowed to keep their weapons and wear them openly was tribute to one of two things: either Ráma's good will and considerable influence within the tribe, or the tribe's underlying desire to see Gondor as an ally, even a distant one, until proven otherwise. Either way, as much as being under constant guard chafed at him, Airefalas understood very well that their reception could have been much worse. He only hoped that it would not take too much time to win the trust of the tribespeople, but he knew better than to be overly optimistic. In difficult times, trust could be very hard won.

Accompanying Mithadan into the istar's tent, he noticed both that the guard that had accompanied him and Mithadan over from their own tent had been left outside, and that the heavy tent flap had been secured tightly behind them once they had gone inside. To Airefalas, this was a good sign. Perhaps some of the questions and secrets that had tantalized them since their arrival would finally be addressed. Following Mithadan's example, he took a seat on one of the many cushions that graced the floor of the tent and waited as the istar and his younger companion joined them. As Mithadan and Aiwendil made the required introductions of himself and Rôg, he bowed politely when appropriate and thanked his hosts for their hospitality. Then, he fell into silence, watching and listening as Aiwendil and Mithadan entered into a friendly conversation about the terms of their prior acquaintance, Mithadan's wife, and so on, while Rôg busied himself with the food.

Finally, catching Rôg's eye, Airefalas leaned forward. "I notice, Rôg, that you and your companion, while not being of the Eagle tribe, are not held under guard either," he said in a friendly tone. "Do you share a long acquaintance with the Eagles?"

[piosenniel]

Rôg

‘It is Aiwendil who has no guard, actually,’ returned Rôg, kneeling down near Airefalas, a tray in his hands. With an economy of motion he poured a small cup of fragrant wine for the man and passed it to him, then did the same for Mithadan and the old man. Mithadan nodded at him, then returned to some reminiscence about a certain journal. Aiwendil’s face softened as the captain spoke on, his head nodding thoughtfully.

Taking a cup of wine for himself, Rôg sat down on a cushion near Airefalas. ‘And if you look closely when I’m out and about, I do have a guard. Though a rather lackadaisical one at most. I fear he feels slighted that I have not proven to be more dangerous.’ He picked up a small tray of savories he had brought in earlier and offered them to Airefalas; then placed them on a low table near Aiwendal and Mithadan. ‘In fact, I heard him grumble to one of his friends that he felt like some old Granny herding a grandchild about.’ Rôg laughed and pointed to Airefalas’ blade. ‘Perhaps I should borrow your sword and saunter about a little outside the tent. My guard could then think of himself with the same level of esteem as your guards.’ Rôg sipped at his wine, His eyes sliding every so often to where Aiwendil sat. The old man’s head was inclined near Mithadan’s, his voice pitched low.

Rôg drew his attention back to the younger man sitting near him. ‘It was only by chance that we came to the Eagle camp. We were on our way to the city in Umbar, actually. To get supplies for a birding expedition, actually.’ At the frown on Airefalas’ face he explained they had come south so that he could show the old fellow the different sorts of bird life found here. ‘A set of unfortunate circumstances set the course that ended here . . . with us as “guests” of the Eagles.’ He refilled Airefalas’ cup as well as his. ‘To be honest, I do have some acquaintance with the Eagle Clan, but only in passing, and many years ago when I was only a child. I’ve been away a number of years. Many things have changed . . .’

Rôg colored slightly, realizing he had been the one doing most of the talking.

‘Please, excuse my rudeness,’ he offered as an apology. ‘Here you are, Aiwendil’s guest, and I have let you say little . . . won’t you tell me a little of yourself? How is it that you find yourself in the Eagle camp?’ He raised a brow at Airefalas. ‘It will be interesting to hear the real story.’ He laughed again. ‘You would not believe the tales that I’ve heard at the well early in the mornings . . . colorful rumors - flying thickly among the women . . .’

[Ealasaide]

Airefalas chuckled at the mental image of this small, rather scholarly-looking fellow strutting about before the mouth of the tent bristling with weapons for the benefit of his guard, but sobered quickly. If Airefalas had learned anything about the friends of his captain it was that while they may not carry a weapon so obvious as a sword, they were no doubt well-armed in other respects. At the mention of the other man's "birding expedition," however, he frowned slightly. Mithadan was on a "birding expedition" of his own, as it turned out. Knowing now the connection between Mithadan and the elderly istar, he wondered if the two were not actually on a related expedition, both of them searching for the same mysterious, but specific, Bird. It was certainly a possibility, but, Airefalas decided, that was Mithadan's business, not his own. What concerned him more was the rumor of dragons that Mithadan had confirmed, and the related threat to Gondor. Mithadan had already suggested that the two of them throw whatever support they could offer to the Eagles in defeating Wyrma and her followers, and Airefalas had agreed. What he wondered now was how and where Aiwendil and Rôg fit into the picture. His gut instinct told him that they were on the side of the Eagles, but he couldn’t help doubting that their presence was purely a matter of accident or serendipitous timing. He took a sip of wine and let his thoughts return to the ongoing conversation.

“....How is it that you find yourself in the Eagle camp?” asked Rôg, raising one eyebrow. “It will be interesting to hear the real story,” He added with a laugh. “You would not believe the tales that I’ve heard at the well early in the mornings, colorful rumors - flying thickly among the women . . .”

Airefalas grinned. “So, we’ve set the women abuzz, have we?” He laughed. “Actually it is a pretty colorful story.” He went on to relate how he and Mithadan happened to be in Umbar on a trading mission, their imprisonment in Falasmir’s palace and their subsequent escape. When he got to the part about torching the docks, he saw Rôg smile and nod, apparently having heard that part of it already. As he drew to the conclusion of the tale with his and Mithadan’s arrival at the Eagle encampment, he realized that he had omitted two significant details, both involving himself and Ráma. The first was the circumstances of his and Ráma’s first meeting, which was frankly embarrassing, what with him jumping at her like a lunatic when she had come to help them. The second was the incident with the sand viper at the oasis. He had not yet determined whether his actions had had any bearing on her subsequent change of heart regarding sending him and Mithadan north with the caravan, or if she had simply changed her mind for other reasons. As far as he could see, both details were rather incidental to the overall story, so he left them out. He could always fill in the blanks later if it became necessary.

As he concluded, Airefalas cast a glance in the direction of Mithadan and saw that he was still in deep conversation with Aiwendil, both of them speaking softly, their heads held close together. Not wishing to disturb them, he turned his attention back to Rôg.

“And so, my friend,” he said with a smile. “That is how we ended up here. But what I am wondering now is what we are going to do next.”

“Next we eat,” answered Rôg with a smile of his own. He picked up a set of plates and began to serve up the meal of stewed hen and flatbread, first serving Mithadan and Aiwendil, then Airefalas, and finally himself.

Airefalas waited for him to finish and sit down again before continuing the conversation with a slight change of subject. “You mentioned that you have had a past acquaintance with the Eagle clan as a child. Please pardon me if I am prying, but does this mean that you share their ability to change shapes?” He hesitated, then added. “You see, until I met Ráma-” he colored slightly “- I had no idea that shapechangers truly existed. Naturally, I am a bit curious.”