[Carrûn]

Awrygan nodded his head slightly as she introduced herself and her background; not bothering to ask how one of Rohan came to live in the forest of Mirkwood. His ammusement at the words "master of disguise" was hidden only by his grim smile. "I had excellent instructors," he remarked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Strict did not begin to describe the manner of his father and those who had left the main camp with him. Many nights alone in the woods playing the game of hunter and hunted, finally turning the tables on them after several years and gaining their acceptence; a normal rite of passage for the guardians of the North.

He walked to where a bag lay on the ground that he had aqquired. From it he produced a dark black cloak with a hood, and a weather stained tunic. As he shook them out a breeze caught them and the billowed in the sudden guest. He held them out to Rochelle. "You might want to work these into your wardrobe in some form or another." She hesistated and he gave her a wry look. "Worry not, their former owner will have no more use of them. He beckoned towards a small pile of stones on a distant hilltop. "These will not fit me and they are about as clean as you could find at the nearest establishment."

Walking over towards his drawings in the sandy dirt near the base of a tree the man paused by the dozing horse. Drawing out a sugar cube he held it out to the stallion. Quellë looked briefly at it, and proceeded to bit down gently but firmly on the entire outstretched hand containing the cube. Both eyed eachother for a few moments until, giving a genuine smile, the man relaxed his hand and the horse allowed the man's hand (cube removed) to slide out. Quellë gave a semi-friendly snort and proceeded to return to his rest. Awrygan squatted next to the outline in the ground and picked up a sharpened stick. Gesturing towards his companion he began to discuss entry points and city details.

"Obviously it would be less than wise to enter through the main gate as we are not akin to those now in power. Several smaller gates are spread out around the city but they are bound to be watched, and regardless the number the less confrontations the better. Here and here are several drainage outlets. One of them, if I remember correctly, enters a closet in a local Inn." He grinned. "That was useful for a quick exit after a card game turned hide and seek. Drunkerds are swift to feel cheated even if it is by their own stupidity. If the keeper is not dead he is a friend of mine as they come and go and may be able to give us a better idea for our next step. Or I can convince him to do so if need be. If, on the other hand, he is dead it will give us a relatively safe place to move out from."

He moved the stick some ways over. "As far as the query..." He noticed a slight, involuntary twitch of Rochelle's hand. "The children," he continued carefuly, "could be in a wide variety of places, Dol Amroth is no small village. However, if all of the captives are grouped together they will most likely be in one of the large warehouses; they are the most appealing for this purpose, being both large and easy to guard. If those you speak of are being singled out for some especially delightful and tactful purpose they could be anywhere and we may end up going door to door like a baker throughout the whole city."

He frowned as if remembering a detail he had not considered before. "I have forgotten your sharp-hoofed compatriot over there. Doubtless he is loyal but he will not fit in a pipe or a closet. Yet he would be a great asset in the event things go to...go poorly or we are forced to make a swift exit." He allowed the issue to pass to a back corner of his mind, hoping something would come up that would prevent the need for futher consideration of it. He turned to Rochelle. "Have you knowledge of boats? Or experience before with those who will undoubtedly try to make our search somewhat difficult? It would be easier if we could talk our way out of some corners instead of fighting."

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]