Outracing the Flames RPG

[Tevildo]

Staring doggedly at the branches and logs that they had piled up on the far side of camp, the young man squirmed uncomfortably as he tried to pretend he hadn't seen Vaenosa give him a look at the mention of cooking the meat. Frankly, he was sick of the references to his cooking. As someone acquainted with a considerable amount of loss and hurting, he'd already guessed that Vaenosa was angry about something that had happened in her past. Dorran could understand feeling like that. He had no wish to quarrel with her. He only wanted to get along.

The boy shuddered involuntarily and bit his lip as a sharp, unwelcome image of an Orc beating a woman with a heavy wooden cudgel studded with iron nails abruptly crept into his mind. Before his Aunt Raven had passed, she had once confided to the boy that his first few years in Wulfham had not been easy for either her or the other Rohanites. Although barely six at the time, Dorran had been angry and sullen, unwilling to speak about what had happened to his parents or the series of ugly events that had compelled them to flee to Rohan. But over the years, that anger had been crammed back into a tiny space in the depths of his mind, and he liked to keep it that way. It was only when he thought about Orcs that these feelings threatened to burst forth.

Maybe Vaenosa thought about men the same way that he regarded Orcs? Dorran shuddered slightly. He could not imagine being anywhere near an Orc. But he still could not figure out why Vaenosa felt this way about every single human male. And even more importantly, if she did hate all men, why had she wanted to go on this mission? Surely, she recognized how important this venture was for the safety of everyone in the village, including her own family and friends. Squabbling did nothing but get in the way. An unexpected, disturbing question raised its head. What if someday he was in a situation where he'd have to learn to cooperate with Orcs, or imperil the safety of someone he loved? But that would be ridiculous! Such a thing would never happen within his lifetime.

In an attempt to shake off his moodiness, Dorran rose to his feet, limped over to the edge of the encampment, and dragged back several logs and smaller branches, banking up the fire. All the while, he kept thinking how much he missed his sister Criede and her straightforward ways.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan


. . . And Lady Luck who now was lost
She heard a song of beauty most
And answering with her voice, soft
He called the one she thought a ghost
Oh, Oh, Ho! she thought the man had been a ghost

But Mister Fun, who heard her song
And feeling that he must have found
The woman he had longed for long
Towards her voice, he then moved on
Oh, Oh, Ho! towards the one he longed for long

He found her there, standing alone
Pretty she was and he swore on,
The moon and stars that lead him on
To never from her side be gone,
Oh, Oh, Ho! he’d never let her stay alone . . .

‘Well now, that is a pretty little song!’ Meghan lifted her pipe to her lips and played along with the last verse. ‘Who knew,’ she said, grinning impishly at him when the song was done, ‘that someone who spends his time among those great dumb beasts of cows with their out of tune voices, would have such a fair voice himself!’

Her good mood was overshadowed with his next words. ‘I know I’m no longer the leader here . . .’ She watched as he seemed to force a smile to his face and went about the business of getting ready to go.

Despite the fact she would feel better if one of the more seasoned warriors were to take the group in hand, Meghan wondered what sort of resentment this might breed in the group. Forgetting she had laid it upon herself to keep her opinions and questions to herself, she voiced the question that had formed in her mind. Her eyes darted around the group . . .

‘So, who is to be leader, now?’

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Osmod’s words sounded, and resounded in Sythric’s mind. ”I know I’m no longer the leader in here, but should we not get going?” Well, as I so much love these youngsters, and both trust and hope so much on them, this one really makes me disappointed, time after another! Either being the center of everything, or then being the martyr! So strong feelings from such discussable matters! So itchy about the tiniest scars on their self-image! Keeping one’s honour is one thing, being pricky about these kinds of small things is another. Oh, these young people... not that I wasn’t the same, when I was of that age, though. How many times have I told myself to remember that?

Then there were the words of Meghan in the air: "So, who is to be leader, now?"

This time Sythric’s light grin was just an inward one. Simultaneosly, he was hardly pondering about his words, to get this imminent leadership-problem solved the best way he could see. Why didn’t I come up with the topic with Raedwald when we were smoking under the tree during the night? I already asked Meghan the thing. Well obviously she was there too. So charming young lady, but could we have discussed this thing in her presence, in all earnest, anyhow? We would probably just have raised more problems, with others thinking, there is a some sort of a clique of latecomers’, with Meghan inside it, making decisions about leadership-issues, and what-not? Some of the others probably thought that way already... Youth sure is heroic, and paranoid, at the same time. As Raedwald’s expression seemed as baffled as his, Sythric decided just to go for it, and make his best.

“Please, Osmod! Wait a moment!”, he called back to Osmod. Osmod had already almost reached his packings, but when called, he turned around, and took a few steps towards the others, still clinging next to the fire. Sythric rose up and addressed him again, now with a more talkative tone.

“I heard last night, from my young friend Meghan here, that you have been the leader of the party. Then I believe, you must be the one to whom the March-warden gave the letter for the king? Things being that way, I really do think, that you should come forwards with your stature. You have been relied on this, you have been chosen as the leader. Now you just have to act like it! I believe, that I also speak with the mouth of my old friend Raedwald now: we two were sent here to help you, not to lead you. Rest assured, we will be giving you all the counsel we can, and we will be putting ourselves at risk as the first one’s to go. But you have been chosen, so take the lead!” He looked Osmod into the eyes quite seriously. Then nodded to everyone else, took the lamb and the wineskin, and took to packing his things.

Sythric felt that Raedwald was walking just behind him, to get his own gear in order. He turned lightly and addressed Raedwald. “Even if we might be in dead-dangerous situatiuons over the following days, we could make him, and his father, a service by helping to bring out the man from this youth. We’ll see, how this turns out. I’m sure, you will be helping in this. I quess all we would have to help him. As I told you during the night, he’s a good lad, even if as this morning’s show didn’t immediately raise such thoughts in you. I know, he is more than a whining teenager. Just trust me on this. And without someone of them rising to a rank, there will be just bad feelings and disruptions. I quess Osmod is the horse to bet on now. Let's try to encourage the others at their time?”

[Maeggaladiel]

Fionn finished eating his breakfast quietly. Once more, things were getting awkward among his party. What had started as a simple party of four had escalated into a troop of six literally overnight. Meghan seemed fine with this: apparently she knew the two newcomers well. Osmod, however... Well, he wasn't exactly sure how Osmod felt about this. The morning had begun happily enough; he had seemed more cheerful than Fionn had ever seen him. But then, just as quickly, he had shown hints of discomfort. Now he was all but certain he had been demoted.

And what of this newcomer, this Sythric? Fionn recognized him somewhat; he could picture him speaking with his father on several occasions, but he himself had no reason to be aquainted with him until now.

Sythric was hiding his true feelings well, but Fionn had the sense that he lacked faith in them, at least to a minor degree. He probably throught they were too young and foolhardy for such an important mission. (Well, that's what Fionn's father would probably say, anyway.) But was it true? Fionn mused on this for a while as he rose, dreamlike, and absent-mindedly packed his belongings.

The thought hadn't really occured to him prior to this; yesterday he had the utmost faith in himself and his fellow messengers, and had assumed that the rest of Bregoware shared his opinion. But now, it seemed as though Bregoware was regretting their decision. Perhaps they had sent them merely out of desperation. Perhaps he and his new party WERE unfit for the task. Were they being sent to their deaths?

No, Fionn thought fiercely. It didn't matter what Bregoware or Edoras or Sythric or Raedwald or the March-Warden or ANYONE thought. Farmers or not, they were doing an important job, and they would not fail. After all, they were just going to Edoras.... Right?

A thought occurred to him. He looked over at the others. He had no idea how well any of them could fight. He had been absent during the hunting party, so he didn't know who was a good shot and who wasn't. He assumed that Raedwald and Sythric were adequate fighters, being Ex-Riders, but they were retired. And anyway, even if they were excellent with the spear, that would mean nothing if no one else could fight their own battle. They'd be around to protect Miss Meghan, though; that WAS the reason why Raedwald had come. Osmod probably knew what he was doing, and Miss Eostre... Fionn grinned wryly. Miss Eostre was fierce. He'd never seen her fight, but she could probably frighten away any approaching danger on her own. He'd never tell her that to her face, though, as he valued his life too much.

And then there was himself. He was a decent shot with a bow, although his experience with orcs and Eastern Men was severely limited. He hoped he could hold his own.

He was suddenly aware that a vote was going on. He looked up.

"Oh," he said, almost apologetically. "Well, I agree that Osmod continue as our leader. He's done well so far, wouldn't you say?"

[Nogrod]

Bregoware

Hearing Fionn's remark, Sythric smiled slightly to Raedwald.

"Well: some unity and comradeship beginning to appear. Now is it, or am I just dreaming the things I hear? It's a good sign, and a winning horse..."

He smiled more openly and turned to pack his lamb and wine, calling Thydrë with his low whistle. Time to go, and we'll make this!, he thought.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald


Meghan was a little aways from the rest of the group, securing the last of her few possessions to the back of her saddle. His horse already loaded and ready to go, Rædwald walked up along side her and helped her with the last of her knots. ‘I’m only here to see to your well being, little mistress. As your brother asked. I hope the others will not think I’ve come to take over the group itself.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Of course, if keeping you whole means keeping them whole, that will simply be a side benefit for them.’

She frowned at him and he tried to pull his face into a more contrite expression. ‘Just fooling around a bit!’ he offered as an excuse. ‘Give an old Rider turned goat herder some leeway won’t you?’

He glanced up toward the rest of the group. Some had mounted up and it seemed as if they were proceeding forward, though they were bunched together and he could not see who had led off.

Rædwald took the reins of Meghan’s horse and held her steady for the woman to mount up. He handed up the last small leather bag for Meghan to secure to the front of her saddle, within easy reach. Then he mounted up himself and tsk’d to his horse, urging him on. With one last look at the 'door for luck' as Osmod had called his drawing in the dirt, he sent up a silent little request to what powers might be that luck indeed would ride with them.

He kept pace beside Meghan sharing a few words her brother had spoken to him when he’d gone. It would be a considerable ride to the ford as he recalled, settling himself into the pace of the other riders.

[Farael]

Was it the comment or the song what had irked them? It mattered not, whatever it had been, he had been ‘rewarded’ with a renewed vote of confidence for his leader role. He sighed and tried to look serious, but deep inside he recalled his dreams and could not help it to smile. They were hardly an eodred, but they were brave enough.

After everyone had saddled up, Osmod nodded his head towards the road and with a silent prayer he started riding again. A moment later he turned around and asked Sythric to ride by his side. “It gets too lonely here ahead of the rest, Master Sythric, and I thought you could entertain me with some good talk. Maybe a story or two, I’m sure riders like yourself must have many of those.” He offered his olive branch without making much fuzz and hoped the rider would take it. Sythric seemed to be a good man after all and his best bet at learning how to defend himself. His newly found desire to be a great, famous commander had nothing to do with it. Not at all.

[Maeggaladiel]

The horse's chesnut ears swiveled backwards as Fionn approached her with the saddle. Apparently she hadn't planned on carrying him for another whole day.

"I'm riding you. Get used to it," Fionn told her, plopping the saddle down on her back. "We have a long way to go yet, you old nag." He scratched her at the withers and then patted her on the neck as he went to work. He pulled on the girth strap that wrapped around her stomach and held the saddle in place. The horse did not protest.

After several moments, Fionn tightened the girth strap once more. As he expected, it was already loose. She had held her breath when he first put it on. Had he tried to sit in it, it might have slid sideways and thrown him off. He grinned.

"Hah," he told the horse, waggling a finger in her face. "I'm not that dense, you mule. Thought you were going to dump me as soon as we broke into a trot, didn't you? Didn't you?" The mare avoided eye contact. "You'll keep me on my toes for the entire journey, won't you madam? Just remember who it is who'll be grooming and watering you."

This ongoing battle of horsey and human wits had lifted his spirits significantly since this morning's occurrences. It really wasn't much to brag that you had outwitted a stubborn animal, but it kept him focused on the task at hand, always expecting some mutinous maneuver from the beast he was now mounting. She started to walk sideways as he climbed into the saddle, but he grabbed her reigns and held her steady.

"You're no match for Fionn of Bregoware," he said with a grin. "You and your kind are beneath me." He looked down at the horse he was straddling and grinned larger. "Literally, in this case."

[Naria]

Wulfham


She was walking into camp with Brand at her heels when she saw Vaenosa come through some trees and into view. She had something heavy and big on her back. Incana hurried her pace to see what the young woman had brought them. Incana was thrilled to see that Vaenosa's surprise was meat. She thought to herself that this amount of wild boar should last them a few days and immediately began to think of ways to prepare the animal.

As if her mother's voice was reading aloud a recipe in her head, Incana remembered, To roast wild game you will need to have a very hot fire; after you have made sure of this dig a shallow pit in the centre of the hot coals. Then you would find flat rocks and line the bottom of the pit with them and place the meat on top of the rocks covering the meat with the remaining flat rocks and coal. Incana remembered also that the hot coals and the fire will heat the rocks thus cooking the meat inside.

This of course would take all day to cook the wild boar but Incana started preparations towards getting the animal ready for their supper. After Brand had skinned the animal Incana took over, once again thinking that she hasn't done much to help the group so far, she used her knife and made a swift upwards stroke and opened the pig's belly. Its innards spilled onto the ground, the blood quickly absorbed by the dry soil. She was sure that her mother had taught her another recipe on how to prepare and cook an animal's stomach, but she couldn't remember. It would come to her eventually that was one meal Incana enjoyed eating. She finished separating the different parts of the animal and placed what she could fit into the fiery grave. Not knowing what to do with the remaining pieces of meat she asked Dorran, "Do you know a way in which to dry meat? There is still some wild boar left here." He nodded at her question and Incana could tell, by the quizzical look on his face, that the young man had something in mind.

After Incana had rinsed her hands and blade of blood with water she took some lunch and sat down next to Brand. She ate her last spoonful of stew and rinsed it down with tea that Dorran always kept fresh and hot for them. Incana then made a bold move and started a conversation with the man sitting next to her. She was nervous and hesitant to do what she was about to do, but after a period of uncomfortable silence she spoke to Brand. "Since Vaenosa is asleep and will probably be this way for awhile I thought I should let you know as to why she is acting the way that she has been lately." Incana paused to clear her head and brushed some stray hairs out of her face with her fingers and continued, "You see my mother and her mother knew eachother through their different duties they had and spoke quite often in the village market. My mother would bring in clothing that she had made or mended for certain villagers and Vaenosa's mother would bring in fresh vegetables to the market. There were a lot of people in the village that both of our mothers knew and in turn they knew of us. When we were younger I never talked or played with Vaenosa, she always seemed to be in her own world most of the time. I was close with my mother at that age, but Vaenosa was very close with hers and panicked it she lost sight of her. I never understood why she acted that way and it bothered me for many years." Incana took another sip of her tea and went on. "My mother had talked to me on several occasions about Vaenosa, but I had a feeling that she never was telling me the whole story. I finally got the whole story the night we returned to our homes after I volunteered for this journey. She had recognized Vaenosa in the village square that night and wanted me to know the truth before we set off." Incana swallowed hard and with a slight quiver in her voice she proceeded to go into Vaenosa's past.

"Vaenosa's father had taken in a stranger that was in need of a place to stay for awhile before moving on. One night the stranger went mad with rage and killed her father, beat her mother and with no one around to help her he took advantage of a very young Vaenosa. So, do you see why she would act the way that she has been?" Incana went on, "I have talked with her in passing when we see eachother in the village market however, it has been at least two years since our last encounter and that is why I wasn't sure if I had recognized the right person at the beginning of our trek." She thought to herself and said, "I think it was the way that she rushed into camp, so bold and angered. It is a behavior that she has shown me before in the village, it has been a couple of years now but it hasn't left my mind. This is why I have tried to defend her actions and why I have tried to talk with her since that night." Incana paused and picked up the twig that she had earlier and pushed some dirt with it, then softly peered into Brand's eyes and said "I know she means well bringing back a gift of food shows this. Maybe she will let her guard down with the group, I will talk to her when we are on our way again." She smiled at the man feeling a weight lift off of her shoulders.