Nin

Looking For Gunfur

Foothills north of Gladden
The foothills stretch out endlessly to the north, skirting along the eastern side of the Misty Mountains. The rocky terrain seems to increase as you go north; to the south, the land is more fertile, and a line of trees mark the path of the Gladden River a fair distance away. The peaks of the Misties glimmer with snow, and occasionally seem distant and hazy as low lying clouds rise up the mountains. The path has become increasingly rocky, meandering through outcrops of lifted sandstone and granite.
The strong wind rips into your cloths and it is hard to move onwards. The dawn winter air is stinging and freezing.

[Idhrendae(#31338)->Braldor]
Dawn breaks, bringing with it brilliant illumination, even moreso when struck upon the ivory snow that lays all about the land this winter. Indeed, all seems to be within winter's grasp, from the grey sky, heavy with the promise of snow, to the peaks of the mountains, glimmering, shrouded in mist and cloud. And even the sun seems sapped of it's strength, bearing no warmth to the air, to the hidden camp to the south, and the river who's shores they encamp upon.
And even still a band of scouts walk upon the foothill paths, picking their way carefully and quietly, all but hidden in the new light. And to them, it may seem not that the cold is only in the air, for their hearts are worried. One of their travellers has been lost within the night, and such weighs heavily upon the mind of Idhrendae as he walks, eyes darting about, looking for signs of the missing.

[Helegrhofel(#22136)] Indeed, dark is Helegrhofel's face, for an ill foreboding hovers above him. And his eyes slightly shine in the first morNing rays as they roam restlessly, searching for clues. His steps are light, leaving no trace upon the fresh snow on the ground as he walks among the scouts. "I doubt we will find any footprints for this snow is fresh", says Helegrhofel, breaking the silence. He turns to Gondramind and adds, "Mellon, do you see any clues yourself?", but he draws his gaze not to him, going on with his scanNing.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
The Artelenistron Gondramind walks among the scouts, his eyes trained ever on the ground before them, looking for signs... reading them... Snow covers the ground in patches and he bends low, touches the bare frozen earth and mutters a soft curse under his breath as the wind takes his hair and blows strands of it loose from his long fat braid.
"He passed this way..." Gondramind mutters to no one in particular. "A heavy booted step.. but wandering it seemed. Did he think this was an afternoon picnic?" He stands and looks to Idhrendae and Helegrhofel shakes his head. "This Gunfur has been a problem since he joined our party. Hotheaded and rude to others and..." he swallows his words and looks to the dwarves that are with them and visibly controls his face.... then looks again to the ground....

Among the tall Firstborn also go a couple of smaller figures, clad in cloaks and furs. One of them is blue-clad, the other one brown, but their beards leave no mistake: these are dwarves, for only those of that folk would have grown so long a beard. The blue clad dwarf also bends low, reading what little he can from the floor and the surroundings. Braldor listens to Gondramind's words, and a low grunt is all that the dwarf utters. He goes and checks the snow, and nods. "Aye, that fool was here", he says at last. "I wonder whence he went. Fool!", he repeats, as he scans with dark eyes the road ahead.

Silothiel is silent, her eyes as cold as the air about the group of scouts. Her dark green cloak whips about her slender form as the harsh winter winds about the group of scouts. She is worried, though, for in the barren plains covered in snow there are little places to conceal themselves, and her small bag of herbs is runNing low. But she dismisses the thought, as she has been told that it is unlikely that orcs will be about in this country.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
Gondramind turns to Braldor and gazes steadily at his naug companion... aye and friend... and the hardness of his mein softens and he nods toward the Thane. "Fool indeed. But young. And many who are young are fools." He trains his grey, colorless eyes on the ground again and sees something... to the north and west... The bent branch of a hawthorne.... tufted with fur. "Blast," he mutters. "Grey silver fur." He looks to Silothiel and lowers his voice so she will not hear him. "Grey fur. Warg fur."

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
Idhrendae shakes his head. "Probably had too much of that ale, Hirdan," he says, quietly, while his eyes still trace the ground. He looks sharply up as Gondramind's words sound, however, a sense of foreboding falling upon him. His steps lead him across the snow to the fur, where he again shakes his head, far more slowly this time.

[Helegrhofel(#22136)] Taking a look at the footprint found by Gondramind, Helegrhofel returns to his own search. But now he stays where he is, searching for a fairly tall tree around. And soon the Cunir makes his choice, a tall pine tree on a somewhat higher part of the ground. Immediately he moves towards that, without saying anything.
Filled with thoughts, Helegrhofel is obsessed with the search. He grabs a lower branch and quickly, using his elven dexterity and agility, his innate skill at climbing, he gets upon that branch. In a few moments he climbs even higher, yet he risks not his safety. From that height the archer places a hand above his sharp eyes and scans the fairly open area around them, trying to spot any clues.

Another low grunt escapes from Braldor's thraot, and his mien turns dark. "Warg", he spats the word with disgust, but also in a low tone so that none other than Gondramind can listen. "This is no good news. For if a warg was here, a pack is near too". His dark eyes keep looking down, trying to find more evidence of Gunfur's whereabouts.

[Silothiel(#21466)] Despite Gondramind's efforts to conceal the frighteNing discovery from her, Silothiel's eyes fall upon the bit of fur on the branch. She does not speak for a while, but she utters a slight gasp. TurNing to the Hirdan and her friend, she asks quietly, "Gondramind...you don't think that it's still.../here/, do you?"

Duinlas lets out a soft sigh as he follows close behind Gondramind, but careful of his step, and always staying behind, not daring to mistep upon a track. His gaze fans left and right, taking no note of anything, although he shares the same worry as Silothiel.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
Gondramind nods wordlessly to Braldor, looking to the horizon, scanNing it as far as his eyes will allow. "Aye, friend Braldor," he mutters for the naug's ears only. "A pack. We should find your Gunfur. And quickly." He turns then to Silothiel as she speaks, and puts on a thin smile. "It seems to be gon, Silothiel. But we should not wander. Stick close." His gaze flicks then to Heleghrofel, up in the tree, and he calls out, "Helegrhofel mellon. What can you see of the land from that height?" He looks to the west and scans the mountains, then rests his gaze finally on Idhrendae, worry writ large on his brow. He whistles an odd combination of trills and the Ethiriath scouts with them slowly pull in to tighter formation.

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
Idhrendae glances once to the tree where Helegrhofel sits, and then back to the bush. He steps slightly away, leaving only light markings in the snow where he does step. His gaze traces the snow and bushes that abound in the area, but he finds nothing, though the Artellenistron may fare better. And finally catching the Hirdan's look, of worry that so clearly stains his face to those who know him, he speaks in a murmur. "I see no further sign of either of them, Gondramind. Whether this bodes ill or well, I know not." He glances quickly to the trees, finding the reassuring sight of the guard.

[Helegrhofel(#22136)] The cunir's elven eyes may be keen but still it is difficult to see much in a distance. He tries to gather some information before replying to Gondramind. "I can see no Wargs around and there is not place around here where the could have hidden themselves", he calls to the Artellenistron, having overheard part of their talk about the wolves. "Neither sign of the dwarf", he says after a few moments.

He sighs and then turns his gaze to the sky, as if moved by a greater power. "But Lo! Vultures are soaring in the distance, a kilometer or even less in the north!", he then says and directs his gaze to that place below them. "Unfortunately, I cannot discern anything on the ground", he finishes. "Let's hope this has nothing to do with our companion", he says in a lower tone and his face darkens for a moment.

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
Then Idhrendae turns to Glasiel, a hint of worry upon his face. "What do you see, mellon? Do you find any further trace of the warg, or Gunfur?"

"Indeed, Gondramind", Braldor replies, "we should find him... Vultures?", Braldor asks, as he turns his gaze to Helegrhofel. He then gazes to the North, and indeed he now sees dark specs circling... circling... "No!", is all that escapes from the dwarf's lips. Without stopping to think of his actions, nor if anyone goes with him, Braldor starts walking North with all haste that he can muster, his short legs pumping up and down furiously.
Ethiriath Squad moves slowly inward after Gondramind's whistled call, surrounding the group now in a ring of protection.

[Glasiel(#31797)]
The Olvaristdil's eyes have ever been scanNing the traces remaiNing... her face is drawn into worried lines as she shakes her head in reply to Idhrendae. "This bodes not well, mellyn. Much do I dislike this circumstance... there will be naught found this day, of happy import."

From the elleth's fea, a song of foreboding wraps itself around the entire party, though the sound seems to emerge from within each heart, rather than being heard aloud.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
Gondramind inlcines his head toward Idhrendae and nods, flicking his grey gaze to Glasiel befor returNing it again to the ground before them. "Aye Braldor, and soon..." Heleghrofel's alert stops him short and without thinking he jogs forward, Glasiel's words ringing in his ears... her inner song filling him with a dread he tries to shake, angry at it, tired by it. Tired of much... "Come on!" he calls behind him. "Don't stand in awe of fate. Confront it. We shall find what we shall find."

[Duinlas(#27187)]
Duinlas steps lightly over the snow, following Gondramind's lead, watching the back of his head carefully. As if he could read the elder edhel's thoughts by merely concentrating hard enough. Yet none are forthcoming.

Silothiel shivers as Glasiel's song penetrates her fea, confirming the foreboding that she has been feeling all along but has tried to suppress. But she cannot just stand there while the others are moving on. Somewhat reluctantly, she flollows Gondramind with her eyes to the frost-covered ground.

Braldor doesn't his run, but as he reaches the site that helegrhofel had spotted, his breath comes in short gasps. As he approaches, he sees nothing, and his hopes rise... just to come crashing, as he stops dead on his tracks. For here the snow is not white... but red.

Braldor now steps cautiously, and he soon sees a set of mail lying on the ground, near some bones. A mace is thrown somewhere nearby, also bloodied. The scene is a complete mess, and Braldor's eyes brim with tears still unshed. He looks frantically about, trying to deny what he sees... the remains of the warder Gunfur.

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
Idhrendae's mein grows solemn as the song is felt, more than heard, and he follows the gathering. His foreboding is justified, it seems, as Braldor suddenly stops, and sharp elven eyes discern the change in his bearing. More cautious is his approach, now, but soon he too has come upon the remains. The Herunnur flicks a glance to Braldor, eye full of sympathy, but his focus is on the snow, trying to determine how long ago the murderous event passed.

[Helegrhofel(#22136)] Seeing Braldor runNing, Helegrhofel quickly gets down of that tree, "Wait!", he cries, "Don't go alone darn you!", the cunir adds and he runs behind Braldor, stepping lightly on the snow. Before he even tries to speak he faces himself the terrible, bloody scene. He does not know what to say and only places his hand upon Braldor's shoulder as he inspects the surroundings for any danger.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
But the dwarf is not alone. Standing next to Braldor, the Artellenistron Gondramind looks on the stain with a cool, distant regard. And so it is. As he'd perhaps thought. As Glasiel's song had foretold. And as he gazes at the blood stained snow a look of profound wearyness comes over his face for a moment, making him look as ancient as the moutains that surround them. He rests a hand on Braldor's shoulder as one and then another of their party join them. "So. Let us find something of him. For his family. I am sorry my friend."

[Duinlas(#27187)] Duinlas remains still as they reach the site. His eyes gazing over the ample evidence. He is silent for a moment, his eyes looking to Gondramind first, but then to his friend Braldor. He steps forward, pausing near Gondramind as he looks over the scene. Then hearing the words he moves to obey, speaking quietly to Braldor, "Mellon. Do you gather the weapons and reinment of the fallen?" He is halfway to moving toward those just now. *repose*

Silothiel rushes onto the scene as she see's Braldor stop, and she comes to the sight of the carnage. She stares at the horror of the bloody snow, the bloody mail and weapons. "So he is...dead..." she says after a long pause. "Never before have I seen such horror. Such...blood..." She shuts her eyes tight, as if trying to shut the sight out, but when she opens her eyes, it is still there.
Now, she turns to Braldor. "I'm sorry, my friend. I know not the pain you must feel. Let me know if htere is anything I can do to help you." She tries to meet the eyes of the dwarf, to try to encourage him, but it is in vain, as she herself is shaken.

Braldor remains speechless for a moment, eyes wide, looking the scene in front of him. Pieces of grayish fur lie about... Gunfur had battled till the end with the warg. He looks Gondramind's and Helegrhofel's hand reach to him, but he is numb. Again someone had died under his command... like so many in the siege of Sarn Goriwing. Braldor's jaw clenches, as do his hand into fists. If there was an enemy nearby, Braldor would smite him with his bare hands, if he had no weapon ready. But all he can feel now is sorrow... and regret. "So young... so young", he says at last, as a single tear rolls down his cheek and gets lost in his beard. "Aye... his gear and weapon must not fall to our enemies", he says at last, answering Duinlas. His dark eyes turn to Silothiel, all cheerfulness gone from them. "There is nothing ye could do Silothiel... nothing anyone can do to fill the void that I feel inside of me. I... I have failed. I do not deserve to command anyone!", he says, as he turns his eyes away and lowers his head in shame.

Duinlas nods in understanding, moving swiftly, but carefully about the blood-stained carpet of snow. He bends occasionally to sieze a weapon, or a piece of armor. Not mentioNing how little armor there actually is. He looks up from a squat at Gondramind, "Hirdan. I hope I have not spoilt much of the scene. But can you read if there was perhaps a larger presense than just two here?"

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
A feather light glance settles upon each member of the group in turn, Idhrendae gauging the effect of the horror before them on his companions. Eyes narrow as they at last fall upon Gondramind, and inquisitive they are as well. Yet no words does the cook speak, turNing to the final companion, now slain before his feet, as Braldor's word fall heavily upon him. "Do you think that the best commanders never lose one under their command, friend Braldor? Nay, I fear there was naught you may have done, to prevent this." He raises his head from the carnage, to look upon the Dwarf.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
A sharp dark brow raised at Braldor's words. "You do not deserve to command you say?" Gondramind's voice is deep and rumbling with a note of... something. Perhaps warNing. Perhaps impatience for self pity... Perhaps intense sympathy for what has happened... His eyes grow deep with memory and in them he sees the pack of wargs, the elf child and the man both dead....

Idhrendae's words pulll Gondramind back to himself and he flicks his gaze to the Bathron before looking again at Braldor. "You see. The Herrunur possesses wisdom. You are in command. In a dangerous place. It is not a quiestion of what you want or perceive or deem. You command. And must. So let us find Gunfur's armor. And then go back to camp and move out of here. Quickly."

Silothiel pays no attention to the assessment of the scene, but to her ailing dwarven friend. She begins to speak, but her mouth snaps shut as she sees the look on Gondramind's face.

[Helegrhofel(#22136)] "My friend. You deserve a lot. Do not let a failure disappoint you. Please", Helegrhofel says, worried about the dwarf. "Many fell under the command of great captains. But they are still great captains", he says then and softly pats him on the back as he kneels down to come face to face to the dwarf. He looks into Braldor's eyes and puts both his hands on his shoulders. "Do not blame yourself. Do not blame anyone. For each matter, however small, helps to the plan of Illuvatar. Everything works for his will, even actions like this one", he says, trying to calm him, "Alright, my friend?"
Helegrhofel travels to the South East, heading down to the more stable, flat terrain of the fields before the Anduin river.

Ethiriath Squad fans out and begins to search the surrounding area for Gunfur's armor. But their eyes and ears are now pricked, too, for any sound, any motion.... The wind in the trees goes not unnoticed. All ears strain for the sound of warg... padded footsteps or rough breath or the snap of a twig or the distant howl......

Braldor is unable to move, unable to tear his gaze from the carnage that lies in front of his eyes. The bloodied armor, the bloodied weapon, the bloodied snow. All these bore a deep gash in the dwarf's very soul, reopeNing the wounds of the disaster of Sarn Goriwing. "It may be as ye say", the dwarf says at last, answering to Idhrendae. "But I must have been here, battling the fell beast with him... he shouldn't have been alone", the dwarf adds in a pined voice. however, he seems to be shaken out of his self-pity by Gondramind's words... at least a bit. "Aye, this is a dangerous place. May Gunfur's bones guard it against the evil that made /this/", he adds. "Actions like this", he says, as he shakes his head, "can only be contrieved by the Enemy. And now another loss...", he says, as he keeps shaking his head. But suddenly he remembers a scene like this, with Lord Gelbard of Esgaroth, and the words the two exchanged. "Nay!", he says, as some of his usual defiance returns to his voices... even if feigned a little. "I wuill not let despair conquer me... I refuse to do it!", he roars at the vast expanse of white snow that extends in front of him. "May ye rot in the Void that awaits ye, and all yer smelly kin!", he adds.

[Gondramind(#32156)]
Gondramind nods at Braldor's words. "Then take what remains you have here. The scout will look for what they can find. We must go back. Now. And move the camp." His grey eyes scan the rocky terrain, look up to the Ruined Fortress and back again to the company of scouts. For a long moment his gaze rests on his nos-mate Duinlas and he shakes his head subtley. When he speaks again, his tone is kinder."Come. Onward to camp. If there is a ceremony your people perform over the dead, it can be done there, friend Braldor. We should go back now."

[Idhrendae(#31338)]
Idhrendae spares a short glance for the Ethiriath, before his argent eyes seek to catch those of the Hirdan, sending a knowing look in their direction, and sympathy as well. Yet only a look it is, as he turns about, towards Braldor. "It is not your fault, mellon." His voice sounds quietly, sternly, for the wild is not the place to grieve. "Yes, let us go. There is no more to be done here. Gunfur would not wish his companions caught, merely for this."
Silothiel arrives from the southeast, looking a little worse for wear. The trek is difficult around these patches.

"Aye, let's leave this place", Braldor replies, as he finally tears his eyes from Gunfur's remains. "And there is no need to tarry near here either. What needs to be done, will be done once we return to Erebor". Braldor then goes and retrieves Gunfur's mace, and carefully looks at it. "This I will keep, to... to do what needs to be done", he says. "Let us go", he says, as he turns his back and starts making his way back to camp.

Duinlas stands and moves forward, his hands firmly grasping the mace as well as a piece of armor that either covered an arm or leg. Neither are given much of a glance from Duinlas, as he already saw they had blood on them, and to focus on it is much too painful. He casts a long look between Gondramind and Braldor, and he nods to himself, seeing the similarity between the two.

Silothiel gives Braldor a solemn nod, and places a hand on his hsoulder. "Yes, Braldor. Let's get away from this awful place..." She opens and closes her mouth a few times, but no other words come out as she can find nothing ot say to both dwarf and friend, as she turns away from the bloody scene to go back to the camp.

Gondramind feels the pressure of Idhrendae's eyes upon him and he slides his gaze to the Herrunur and holds the yonger elf's eyes with his for a moment, his expression and mein as readable as a cliff wall. He turns then and watches Braldor pick up Gunfur's mace, meets Duinlas gaze with a cool understanding, a distance of eons.

"Is that all you wish to take Braldor? Then so be it." Gondramind motions to the the Ethiriath guard as Silothiel utters her words of sympathy and the scouts pull in from their search to loosely surround the others. "Camp. We shall move quickly now. With warg behind us... we /must/ scout the pass. I fear we will be caught in a pincer." And with that he strides forward, toward the southeast and camp.

Idhrendae holds the Hirdan's gaze for a moment, before nodding once, turNing to the path and back to camp. His thoughts, however, still linger about the scene recently left, and upon the look he was delivered, as he walks slowly back, though his eyes search the trees, wary of attack.