[Ransom]

Because of the inherent instability of weather, Thagon and Leena had chosen a large building bordering the town square to set up camp. From the old, weather beaten sign leaning against the side the wall, it had probably been once been a store. While the furniture, floor, walls, and roof had disappeared long ago, four stonewalls still provided a degree of protection against the elements. The pair of Gondorians soon turned the empty ruin into a decent campsite. Their tent had been pitched against the back wall and their bedrolls spread on the ground. The dark yellow and red light from a campfire cast its light around the clearing, illuminating a neatly stacked pile of firewood and a whistling knight who had just completed the long and arduous task of cleaning his armor.

Thagon stretched, feeling the cool night breeze seeping into the thick leather clothing he wore under his armor. It served a double purpose, providing another line of defense against missile weapons as well as preventing the armor from chafing against the skin. Leena had run off after dinner, no doubt to wash in the nearest body of water. Of course, this had left him to complete the nightly chores himself. He grabbed his bastard sword and secured the leather sheath over his back. Compared to his plate mail, the sword seemed to weigh next to nothing. Glancing around again to make sure that everything was in place, he walked through the gap where the door had once been. Passing the trio of tethered horses, he slowly made his way toward the broken fountain. Thagon hadn’t gone stargazing for quite a long time.

***

Leena had always felt that she had problem staying clean. It wasn’t that she was negligent when it came to her body. Indeed, she had often been warned by well meaning friends about the dangers of bathing too much. The problem wasn’t in her surroundings or her habits. Thagon had always teased her because of her fanatical aversion to dust and grime. No, it was the fact that she always felt hot and sweaty. She had always had that particular problem, even when she was running in the streets of Pelargir. The extended amount of traveling only aggravated the condition. In addition to the fact that she could not bathe as often as she wanted, she also had to contend with the pungent odor that kept her chain mail shirt rust free.

The Gondorian let her damp hair blow in the soft breeze as she quietly padded across the meadows just outside the town, trusting nature instead of a towel to dry her hair. After dinner, she had slipped out of camp with a towel and a bar of soap to bathe in a swimming hole just inside the forest. Thagon would undoubtedly complain that she hadn’t helped with the dishes when she returned, but she could live with that. It was a small price to pay for staying clean. Meanwhile, she was enjoying one of her rare periods of good humor by searching for wildflowers. Placing some of the better smelling flowers in or near her armor greatly helped in masking the odor.

Laurel’s prayer and subsequent conversation caught her by surprise, making her jump and drop the small bouquet of wildflowers she had gathered. Leena silently berated herself for being taken off guard but listening closely to her words. She recognized the words from an old text she had picked up during a snowstorm, but the Gondorian wasn’t close enough to make the words up. Shrugging, she bent over and continued to search for flowers. Laurel was entitled to her privacy, and there would be more than enough time to speak with her later.

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]