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***Mithadan*** · 12-26-2002, 02:41 PM

As the group had travelled towards Tharbad, a great deal of animated discussion had taken place concerning the Castle and its inhabitants. Yet Nardol ever held himself aloof from conversation. Indeed, few spoke to or even approached him as they continued down the Old South Road, save Bethberry who tended his wound from time to time. Even she had few words for him; his gruffness and unfriendly demeanor deflected her few attempts at conversation. Even the other Elves avoided him, though this was to his satisfaction as he understood them to be of Galadriel and Thranduil's people and he was not fond of either the Lady of the Golden Wood or the Lord of Wood Elves.

They suffered no further mishaps along the road and made relatively good time considering the injuries sustained by several members of the group. Perhaps two days away from the Castle, they made camp on the south side of the road in a small clearing. Nardol dismounted and limped about attempting to stretch his wounded leg. Even as he lowered his pack to the ground, he noticed one of the Half-Men approaching Rustal slowly. Do they not learn? He stalked forward, but halted as the Halfling whistled quietly, then turned toward him and said, "His left foreleg is injured. May I examine it?" Nardol considered the short Man for a moment, then nodded curtly. He murmured a few words to the horse who stilled as the Hobbit examined the Stallion's leg.

"Here," said Olo. "A thorn has torn his skin and lodged in just by the joint. It is irritated but it is not infected. May I care for him?" Nardol nodded again and watched as the Hobbit carefully extracted the thorn, washed the scratch and applied a balm to the injury.

Olo smiled broadly. "A fine beast," he said. "He's taken no harm and will be well on the morrow." Nardol nodded again and stood as an awkward silence fell. Olo's friendly face began to fall into a frown. "Maybe Elves do things different but where I come from..." the Hobbit began. The Elf interrupted. "Thank you," he said simply. Then he turned and walked back to his pack. Olo shook his head. "A fine piece of work he is..."

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

12-26-2002, 02:41 PM	#210
*Mithadan* Spirit of Mist Join Date: Jul 2000 Location: Tol Eressea Posts: 3,397	As the group had travelled towards Tharbad, a great deal of animated discussion had taken place concerning the Castle and its inhabitants. Yet Nardol ever held himself aloof from conversation. Indeed, few spoke to or even approached him as they continued down the Old South Road, save Bethberry who tended his wound from time to time. Even she had few words for him; his gruffness and unfriendly demeanor deflected her few attempts at conversation. Even the other Elves avoided him, though this was to his satisfaction as he understood them to be of Galadriel and Thranduil's people and he was not fond of either the Lady of the Golden Wood or the Lord of Wood Elves. They suffered no further mishaps along the road and made relatively good time considering the injuries sustained by several members of the group. Perhaps two days away from the Castle, they made camp on the south side of the road in a small clearing. Nardol dismounted and limped about attempting to stretch his wounded leg. Even as he lowered his pack to the ground, he noticed one of the Half-Men approaching Rustal slowly. Do they not learn? He stalked forward, but halted as the Halfling whistled quietly, then turned toward him and said, "His left foreleg is injured. May I examine it?" Nardol considered the short Man for a moment, then nodded curtly. He murmured a few words to the horse who stilled as the Hobbit examined the Stallion's leg. "Here," said Olo. "A thorn has torn his skin and lodged in just by the joint. It is irritated but it is not infected. May I care for him?" Nardol nodded again and watched as the Hobbit carefully extracted the thorn, washed the scratch and applied a balm to the injury. Olo smiled broadly. "A fine beast," he said. "He's taken no harm and will be well on the morrow." Nardol nodded again and stood as an awkward silence fell. Olo's friendly face began to fall into a frown. "Maybe Elves do things different but where I come from..." the Hobbit began. The Elf interrupted. "Thank you," he said simply. Then he turned and walked back to his pack. Olo shook his head. "A fine piece of work he is..." [ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ] __________________ Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land.