ROHAN RPG

[Sharkû]

When he knew that the scouts of Rohan were out of sight, Storwolos slowly walked back to his tent, pondering what to do.
The few Dúnlendings, who apparently did not take the mission very serious, were already settling for a prolongued stay in the camp. Some made fires, and most laughed and joked over drink and food and playing dice. Some seemed to be dozing in one of the small brown leather tents the Dúnlendings always carry with them, which can be put up and packed away again with few movements in a glimpse of time.

This leisure behaviour irritated Storwolos, after what he had seen and heard just now. Upon entering his own tent to think out the situation before moving on, he noticed that one of the men was standing alone with his back to a small fire just behind his tent, apparently deep in thought, unlike the others. Storwolos saw that it was Smrtan, in whom he saw a rival in the grace of the leaders, but also one of whom he knew that he could be trusted in a plight, such as this could become.

“What is it you are pondering, soldier Smrtan?”, Storwolos asked, not bothering not to surprise Smrtan, whom he approached from behind. Smrtan did not stir for a while, and only answered after a few moments had passed, slowly turning around: “Nothing. You did not command me to, but I thought at least someone needed to look out. And it gave me time for thinking. Such as, it simply cannot be so easy to walk into Elf ruins and back without any trouble.”

“Noone ever mentioned the word ‘Elf’!”, Storwolos replied sharply, mainly irritated by the sharp thinking of Smrtan. Of course it was Elf ruins to which they were headed, he just did not want any of his men to know, most of all being aware of their inherent distrust and even fear for anything which has to do with this legendary folk.

“Well, you may say what you want”, Smrtan laconically replied.

Storwolos tried to sneer in vain, and bade the soldier to join him in his tent for a conversation. “And we also have to talk about your assumption that I, as the leader here, would not be caring for necessary reconnaissance.”

In reality, Storwolos would have been loath to admit, but he preferred to fell decisions, not to think them out himself. He would try to let the other one do the analysis, then fell a decision, and claim the plan as his own invention. That, and the use of big words, Storwolos saw as the mark of a great leader.

They went into the tent, which was only little bigger than the others, and barely provided enough space for two logs to sit on, and a blanket for the night. Storwolos closed it, and clinged a small torch to the middle staff, lighting the tent with a flickering red, causing shadows to dance on the rough brown hide of it.

Smrtan sat down, and Storwolos in front of him.

“As I said,” he began, “you were not the only one to be wary. What I just saw only a few minutes south of our place, were those same people of the strawheads we fought earlier. I think the strange raven-haired one was there, another one, and also the traitor, Vlkodlak. They are indeed about to follow us. They withdrew, so they will still be a bit behind, but it also means there are still the rest of them. Maybe even more… but what irritated me was another strange person I could see from afar. Tall and cloaked… maybe even one of the rangers the White Hand had warned me about, although they shouldn’t come as far down south as this. However, they seem to know where we are headed, and I thought I could also hear that they were trying to contact the rangers of the north, should they find any at the crossings of the Greyflood. They will be trying to trap us…”

Storwolos paused, and what he wanted to seem like a rhetorical pause was indeed an attempt to have Smrtan utter his thoughts first. Whether he knew that or not, he did not hesitate to answer this time.

“It is clear we cannot let that happen. As far as I see it” – Smrtan was perceivably proud that he already had a clear view of the situation – “we first have to depart immediately, to gain an advantage on them again. We also have to take care to cover our traces as well as possible. Then we will see whether we should try to get to wherever we are headed soon enough to be off again before they come, or try to ambush them in turn, or… whether we may want to let them do the work of finding those ruins. But of course I’m not telling you anything new, am I?”

“Indeed, you are not. What you say is correct, but I only wanted to reassure myself”, Storwolos replied. “Let us command the men to leave at once, and have an eye on those who seem to be careless. We cannot allow us any mistake from here on. Hurry northwards! I know quite clearly where the ruins are, have no fear. You might even have to know as well, so listen closely: 50 leagues from here northward, as the crow flies, between the swamps and the mountains. And now be off, and try to compensate your previous insult with deeds!”

Storwolos was content as he saw Smrtan leaving, and he shouted commands to those near his tent, before he started packing his own things.
At any rate, however it came out in the end, they would not let the enemy deal the first blow.