Outracing the Flames RPG

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald


‘Edoras,’ sighed Rædwald. ‘It lies at the very feet of the White Mountains. And before it spreads out the waving seas of grass, all green and lush upon which the great herds of the King’s horses run.’ He nodded, looking into the heart of the fire. ‘And when the sun shines, its rays strike the golden roof of the King’s Hall and are thrown out like a beacon of hope and glory for all to see.’ He took his stick and turned the potatoes in the hot ashes. ‘The banners of the King snap proudly in the breezes. You can hear them before you even reach the gates of the city.’ He looked at Fionn, his eyes shining with the memories of the first time he had seen the city. ‘A great pride swells up in you . . . seeing the white horse upon its field of green. You know the King is within and his authority holds sway over his lands.’

‘It’s an honorable dream, you know,’ he said softly. He kept his eyes focused on the potatoes as if they were the most important things in the world. Despite his joking attitude, the young man seemed to pay close attention to his words. ‘My family were goatherders. I, myself, have taken up that honorable profession now. ‘But in between those two points in this man’s life, there was the dream lived.’ He looked over at Fionn.

‘How old are you, lad?’ he asked, giving the young man an appraising look. ‘I had just seen my sixteenth year through when I left to ride in the ranks of the Riders. It was, as I said, not in the King’s own company. But it was in the eored of a Lord whose land abutted up against Edoras.’

‘Well, now, those days are over for me, eh? But you look a likely enough man to learn to ride and wield the lance . . .’ He gave Fionn a conspiratorial grin. 'That is, unless your chickens will not let you go!'

[Arry]

Wulfham

‘What I wish, Vaenosa,’ hissed Brand through clenched teeth, ‘is that you had never come with us.’ He was fed up with her insufferable attitude and her inability to act together with the other of her companions as a team. He was angrier with her than he had ever been at anyone else. He could not fathom someone who was so self-centered and grudging.

‘You’re a danger to us, woman. A selfish, grudging snake of a companion. I can’t trust you to have our best interests at heart. You’d as soon sink your fangs into us than act with us as a team. Your need to put yourself first, prove yourself better than any of us, makes me sick.’

The muscles at Brand’s temples pulsed with his irritation. A near blood lust had risen in him. He was done being nice to her. He had himself and the others to look out for. His eyes narrowed and glinted dangerously at her. ‘Keep your counsel to yourself, woman. I’ll have no more of your acid tongue. It cuts us as hard and deep as any foul Orc blade.’ The fingers of his right hand flexed about the handle of his sword. ‘I swear on my Father’s good name - if you act in such a manner again, I’ll have you bound hand and foot and take you back to Lord Aldwulf myself.’

As his hand dropped away from his weapon, he heard the horses begin to neigh and stamp in panic again. He turned from Vaenosa, and began running toward where Incana stood near the dying fire. One of the horses . . . no his horse! Lady! She had broken free from Incana’s grip and galloped from the camp, the big cat in close pursuit.

His first impulse was to sprint after Lady, or at least to mount one of the other horses and go after her. He had no real hope of killing the cat, but he could at least drive her away with his club or sword.

But then, he caught sight of the other cat creeping in toward Incana from the opposite side of the fire. Much as he wished to save Lady, his thoughts were now on his wounded companion.

‘Incana!’ he shouted, running quickly to get to her side. ‘Let go the horses! Another demon cat is stalking you . . . there!’

[Naria]

Wulfham


Incana had had enough of the squabbling between the three riders and wanted to put an end to it. She looked over at the two men who were clearly showing anger towards Vaenosa and said, "Please try not to be so upset towards Vaenosa for surely there is something that is driving this woman to be like this. Brand I would ask you to give her another chance for as Dorran said, Lord Aldwulf would have not chosen her to take this journey if she had nothing to offer." She then spoke to Vaenosa, "If there is something that has happened to you that you would like to talk about some time, I am here for you. But in the meantime could you try to hold your tongue and keep some amount of peace between us."

Incana was feeling rather nauseous by this point and had started feeling the chills come over her. She was thinking about sitting down when Lady jerked hard and Incana lost her grip of the horse's lead. She tightened her grip of the other two horses straps in her hands and turned around to see Lady running full stride away from camp. She knew with a predator around that the horses would want to be free to defend themselves but she kept them close anyway. Incana had thought that that was what Lady had wanted but why so suddenly. She quickly got her answer out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the female. The cat had come into full view passing by the fire and the camp she was picking up speed as she went after the mare.

"Brand, Brand Lady has taken flight. The beast in the shadows is after her!" Incana wanted to get onto her horse and take after Lady but every time she moved the searing pain was a reminder of the injury she had. She turned her head to see Brand running towards her and thought that he was after his horse when she heard him scream, "Let go of the horses! Another demon cat is stalking you...there!" His arm outstretched pointing towards some long grass on the other side of the fire. Incana immediately had a feeling of panic well in her. She dropped the leads of the two horses; made a stern click with her tongue slapped both of them and watched them turn and run.

Her attention then focused on the stalking cat that wanted a quick meal. Her mind became a blurr all she could think of was to freeze and don't run. Her father had taught her this when she was a young girl. 'Incana if you find yourself in direct conflict with an animal, don't run! They will think you to be prey that they normally eat and find the chase exhilarating.' There were many other teachings that her father had given her, but right at that moment none came to Incana.

She kept her head straight at the rustling grass and only moved her eyes to watch the approaching Brand. Incana had her knife in her hand, but she wasn't sure of her strength if she could take on such a big animal. To spite her inner turmoil, she readied herself as Brand came to her side.

[Arry]

Wulfham


Brand could see that Vaenosa would soon be in position to help Incana from her dangerous predicament. The younger cat had slowed his approach, but had not given it up altogether. His eyes were still on the wounded woman and his tail twitched in anticipation of taking her as his prey.

Backing away slowly from Incana, Brand motioned for Dorran to follow. ‘Can you call back your horse?’ he asked the young man. ‘I don’t think we can get to Lady on foot.’ Brand’s expression was grim, and a certain level of panic had crept into his voice as he spoke of his horse.

Under Dorran’s soft encouragement and gentling hands, his horse returned and allowed the two men to mount. Brand could feel the nervous excitement running beneath the animal’s skin, and he was glad of Dorran’s skill in handling the frightened horse. They urged Dorran's mount to a fast pace, the horse growing increasingly nervous as they came near the cat.

Dismounting, the two pressed forward on foot. In his hand, Brand still bore the flaming brand; at his belt hung his sword. He’d managed, too, to secure his stout oaken club from his shoulder by the thick leather strap loop at its handle end.

‘Let’s follow the trampled bushes and dried grass,’ Brand said, holding the brand to throw a flickering area of light upon the dark ground. ‘She’ll run and fight as long as she can hold out . . . she’s done it once before with a wolf.’ He looked hard into the enveloping night. ‘We must hurry, Dorran . . . please. I can’t bear to think of losing her.’

[Tevildo]

Dorran raced madly forward, his bow clenched tightly in his right hand and his quiver of arrows slung over his back. The boy was smaller and lighter than Brand and managed to overtake him, keeping a short distance ahead on the path. As Brand had thought, Lady had run a considerable distance from the camp. Relentlessly sprinting forward, Dorran covered nearly half a mile when he finally heard the hideous sounds of two animals braced in mortal combat.

Dorran scrambled over a fallen log and pushed through a thicket of bramble bushes, finding himself in the middle of a small clearing with large oak trees circling about on all sides. At the far end of the glade, he could see Lady pushed back against one of the trees. The horse was rearing up on her hind legs, with her forelegs striking out against her attacker. The cat was snarling and opening her mouth wide, her eyes flaming bright with hunger and rage. Now and again, the cougar raced forward, low to the ground, and tried to pounce on Lady's flanks, while attempting to avoid the horse's sharp, flying hooves.

Both animals showed the effects of their fight. There were deep scratches on Lady's flanks and withers. The cat had suffered an even more serious blow to her left side; blood had begun to ooze out onto her tawny coat and drip down to the forest floor.

Almost instantaneously, Dorran let out a shriek to let Brand know where he was and quickly cocked an arrow to his bow. He hesitated, afraid to let it fly, because the cat and horse were so close intertwined that it was impossible to aim at the one without endangering the other. He waited until the cougar slunk backwards to avoid Lady's flailing hooves and then let his arrow loose. It sped forward straight and true towards the cat's breast, but at the last minute the animal swerved abruptly, twisting her body to the right. With a thud, the arrow struck the cat's left haunch. As stinging pain registered on her crazed mind, she turned about from Lady and, howling in madness, leapt at Dorran.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Eostre accepted the proferred piece of liver, giving it a thoughtful glance before eating the piece of warm meat. "Thank you greatly." She realized for a moment that she was surprisingly hungry; her stomach grumbled ever so slightly at the smell of the fresh meat from a newly killed rabbit. Eating the piece carefully, she wiped the blood off of her fingers on the edge of her tunic.

There was, for a moment, a hint of a grin there. "Shall we make an attempt to snare one more and keep excess for breakfast, or return to the others?"

She glanced off into the bush, listening for the potential rustle of another creature, but the fresh smell of blood kept them fairly distant, wary in the scent that could only read as death. They wouldn't snag another if they hung around too long.

[Naria]

Wulfham


Incana stood alone as Brand and Dorran left her to find Lady and kill the female cougar. She felt overwhelmed and scared wondering what to do about this big male hiding in front of her; she stood quietly with not a sound nor a breeze to be had in the air around her. She then heard footsteps approaching from behind and thought that one of the men had come back to help. Incana turned her head slightly to the right and saw Vaenosa come into view.

Incana had a sudden thought come to her, she had no idea if it was delerium from the pain or what was going through her head. She whispered to the other woman,"We are the same height so I don't think that the cat saw your approach. I will be the bait so we can lure him out into the open. Then you can take him out with one of your arrows." Incana nodded at Vaenosa and hoped that this other woman was as good as she had boasted. Incana took a deep breath and with a painful shreek dropped to the ground.

[Maeggaladiel]

Fionn was about to reply to Raedwald, but an angry voice cut him off abrubtly.

"Son of a three-horned ram! I can’t believe Leof would do such a low, stupid thing!" Startled, Fionn turned and saw Meghan, Osmod and Eostre approaching the camp. Meghan did not look overly pleased to see the newcomer.

Of course. Now it was TWICE that Fionn had been left alone, only to be taken by suprise. Luckily these past two times it had been friends who approached him, not enemies. A dark smile crossed his face. It was a good thing he was nothing but Fion of Bregoware, son of a farmer. He'd be the worst Rider that Rohan had ever known.

"Welcome back," Fionn said to the others. "We have company." He grinned. "He brought potatoes, and he showed up faster than you lot did, so I had to let him in. I was practically starving."

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Sythric

Night had falled, but the moon was shining brightly. As the path was quite familiar, Sythric found no reason to slow down the pace. The earlier he would catch the party, the more hours of sleep he and Thydrë would gain for tomorrows’ ride. That was a simple equation.

After his evening “meal”, he had not passed over to those trance-like memories, he had done during the early evening hours. Most of the time, his head was just blank. But every now and then, thoughts and remembrances sprang into his mind. Especially the words of the old Hugebryth seemed to be recurring: “They sure can ride, and some of them propably can hunt or fend off foxes from their goat herds. But have they ever even seen an orc, or an easterling warrior in full armour, not to talk of confronting one, or ten?”

Sythric was not doubting the bravery of these young riders. Quite on the contrary: all the youngsters he had teached in the arts of war, had been magnificiently ready to go for every possible trouble and danger to just learn more. Now how about in times of a real need? There was no doubt in his mind about that either: Bregowarians were no cowards! He was just doubting their reactions, and their actions, if a real danger would come upon them. What your heart says, and what you actually do, are not simply the same thing. One does not know beforehand, how one reacts in a critical situation, not until the proof of reality shows it to you. You can train yourself over the years - via experience, toil and labour, and basically painful memories of the times when you have failed - to get those two things closer together. But it still is hard, at least for everyone I know, myself included, every time it’s tested.

He got halfway back to the here and now of the real world, and tried to think in a more controlled manner. One thing seemed clear enough. They would have to count on stealth, and if coming up with enemies, then on speed. We would propably be quite good in that. Oh, we will be! At least Swithulf’s children were good last night. And Hunlaf! ... Was is just last night? Not even a full day ago? Was it about this time when the horns were blowing? Maybe a bit later, maybe a bit later...

But then again. Even if that last night’s ride was truly demanding for the youngsters – it was a fast ride in the dark of the night, through paths quite unfamiliar to most of them – it still wasn’t real. It wasn’t real in the sense of, say, easterling light cavalry being after us. One mistake last night didn’t mean brutal and instant death, but just some bruises and the nuisance of being a little more late. There is a certain difference between running for your life for real, practising it, or just generally trying to ride fast, for a reason or another. Sythric grinned amiably at the thought, having his own particular memories about being nauseatingly late, for reason or another.

But had any one of these young people ever really had to scare for their lives? Not just daydreaming about it, but actually feel the energy pushing through the veins: clinging to their lives, feeling it so dear for the first time, so on the edge, so fragile, so here and now? Or how about really felt the after-the-first-shock –feeling in a battle: being kind of an outsider, like in sleep, away from oneself and still being “ me”; in real world, but still somewhere else, not trying anything, not fearing anything, not thinking anything. Just acting and reacting: just a pure instinct, an underlying desire to live, and the vague hope of making the difference. But how to act? After hours and hours of rehersal, a soldier could act instinctively about the right way. How about these youngsters?

As he was just about to fall really deep into his memories, a small correcting move of Thydrë woke him up. They had just leaped over a small ditch, and Thydrë was avoiding the small boulders spread over the grass around a big artifically carved menhir. Wise horse you are, and seemingly worried about me, falling out of this world again. “Thank you my friend”, whispered Sythric aloud, near Thydrë’s ear, patting lightly its neck. Then he rose to his normal riding posture, letting Thydrë know, it was bussiness as usual again. He was awake once more.

Before long, he came to think about his earlier thoughts. Where did I start these mind’s wonderings the last time? It was the youngsters’ ride last night. That was it. Was it?

He remembered Waermund and Waerferth, he remembered Winflaed, he remembered his brother. He remembered Hunlaf. He remembered Cwen, he even remembered Ceolflaed. Sythric had passed the Bregowarian evacuation-caravan readily before the afternoon had turned to a dusk. He had passed them from about a half miles’ distance. He just wasn’t in a mood to any more farewells, or tough enough to meet his childrens eyes one more time, just to let go again. He had indeed recognized Skara-people from the long line of the refugees marching slowly south-west. Then he had spurred Thydrë to change from easy canter to a steady trot. He would not want to see this unhappy sight any more! It was far too personal and humiliating sight to be looked at. Now his mind dwelled in these last sightings of the evacuation: a line stretching over like a snake, made of tiny little bees, crawling slowly forwards, ahead of a fire that would burn... It was already a defeat, before anything had actually happened.

But there was something else, he had been thinking of, before these personal distractions. Oh yes, we would be fast, and rely on stealth. Surely. But what if...? What if we get surprised, what if we are run over off-guard? The thought chilled every bit of him.

He hurried Thydrë to run for it. He was awake now, up to his every cell. The moon lit their way over the grassland.