September 20, 2001

Warden Encampment
Various low tents and temporary shelters have been arrayed here between trunks and concealing foliage, well hidden amidst the dense press of trees here near the northwestern corner of Brethil's woods. The area is watched by silent Haladin guardsmen who patrol mostly unseen and unheard through the trees, as well as by archers perched high above in the branches.

Dawn is just beginning to spread across the sky and down through the trees beneath which the camp is set. Though summer approaches, the wind is strong through the canopy, bending the trees and along with the sullen grey clouds, warns that spring is not yet finished with the land. Kneeling upon the ground before the spot where her tent once stood, Finnabair finishes rolling it up into a tight bundle and secures it round with heavy leather strings, leaving it aside a small pack. Rising, she turns and watches as several others go about completing similar tasks or else spend the last few minutes partaking of the early meal before the journey back to Amon Obel begins.

Her own pack already tied up and lying on the ground beside her, Leana finishes tugging on her boots with some difficulty and then rises to her feet, absently brushing bits of twigs and half-decomposed leaves off her clothing that gathered there while she was sitting on the ground. Taking up a half-eaten crust of bread she had laid atop her pack while putting on her footwear, Leana glances about the assembly, looking somewhat aimless and lost as she thoughtfully chews the rest of her morning meal.

At the edge of the encampment, Aldawin waits, having little to burden herself with upon the journey back. A satchel and knapsack are slung lazily upon her left shoulder, and she leans against one of the silver-barked birches while she tugs absently at a drooping collection of leaves from the selfsame tree. Every now and then she turns to see who else is gathering for the trek, and in one of those glances sees Finnabair rolling up and securing a bundle. Folding her arms before her, the Beorian healer makes steps over towards her. "Good morn, Finnabair," she offers, catching sight of the smithy's apprentice some paces away.

Raising a hand to push back her hair against the wind, Finnabair turns toward the Aldawin's call, "Good morrow.", she says, returning the greeting as the healer approaches her, "We are all nearly ready to go.", she mentions with a glance about the camp before she bends down to gather up the belongings at her feet. Slipping the thin strap of her pack over one shoulder, then the axe so that it rests upon her back and finally reaching to take in hand her longbow, she too spies Leana nearby and calls to her, "Gather your things, Leana and we three will walk out together."

Taking up her pack, Leana slides it onto her back and goes to join Finnabair and Aldawin. "Good day," she greets both Beorians, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears and glancing back at the camp. "Will others be coming along, or will it be just us three?" she asks, the inflection of her words clearly indicating that she would rather if it were just the three.

Watching as Finnabair secures the axe at her back, Aldawin rests her own right hand upon the sword sheathed at her side as she greets Leana with the smithy's approach. Morning's rays cut some of the chill as they sift through the leafy canopy overhead, and Aldawin looks to the leaves sent shifting by the breezes. "I know not how many will accompany us, but you can wager there will be many eyes upon us in our travels." Her mouth is curved to a smile, and she chuckles softly. "How long a journey is it?" she then wonders, her gaze still lifted to the boughs of the oaks and birches enclosing.

"Some have already left and the others will follow and not be far behind us.", Finnabair adds to Aldawin's answer, smiling slightly, "We need not all go out together. We can enjoy the day and if we make good time we should make it upon the hill as the sun sets. Just in time for the evening meal!", she says with hope. "Shall we?", she asks the two of them, making a last few adjustments to her gear. Around them men and women too are gathering their things, heading for the trees to the southeast.

Adjusting her knapsack so the weight is better held upon both straps, Aldawin falls into step behind Finnabair, glancing back once more at the encampment. "Aye, then. I would as soon travel in a smaller group, myself," she says. "I've need to find a good tanner and leatherworker when we return to Amon Obel. I have been cautioned upon wearing a longsword at my side in this manner." For a moment, she sets her gaze to the sheathed weapon at her right side. "Does the Lady Emeldir know that we are making the return to the Hill?"

Finnabair shakes her head and shrugs a shoulder, "I do not know if the Lady Emeldir knows of our return but she will once we do. Come, let us be off.", she says, starting to walk toward the trees. Above them the sun climbs higher, slipping in and out of the clouds that are chased across the sky by a strong, damp wind. "Why have you been cautioned against carrying a sword this way, Aldawin?", she asks, furrowing her brows at the weapon down at the healer's side.

"Aye," Lee says, getting into step with the others. "Let us travel speedily, then, a real meal would be a welcome change from the guards' fare." She then falls silent, simply walking with the other two and listening idly on their conversation as she turns her head to gaze at the trees and scenery that they pass by.

Reclasping the neck of her cloak, Aldawin follows in close step behind Finnabair, grinning at Leana upon her assessment of the camp's meals. "Aye, there are some things that cannot be found in a woodland camp. Besides, my mother shall be glad to hear of my return. Her last letter all but chided me for being out among the scouts." Looking to the Beorian ranger next, Aldawin taps the sheath at her side. "Istadris has been training me in this weapon, and cautioned that it should be strapped to my back, rather than at my side, for ease of movement in the undergrowth."

Finnabair looks over at Aldawin out of the corner of her eye and quirks a brow, "Oh? Do you expect to be crawling through the brush much, Aldawin?", she asks, turning to Leana with hearty agreement, "Indeed! I have had more than my share of dried meats and stale bread.", she chuckles, beginning to push past the trees to forest beyond with its secret paths. "Leana, do the Haladin celebrate the turn of the seasons?", she queries aloud, holding aside a press of branches to allow the two women to pass by.

Lee fixes Aldawin with a strange sort of look, apparently baffled by the idea of receiving correspondance from family members. Nonetheless, she simply shrugs it off, keeping her gaze focused downwards so as to easily navigate the rough ground, crossed as it is by stones and thick roots. As Finnabair addresses her, she ducks through the press of branches and furrows her brow thoughtfully. "We have a feast at harvest time, and we sometimes have small gatherings in early spring just to celebrate the end of winter, but nothing formal or ritual, really," the young smith says slowly. "We prefer to enjoy the changes in the forest in solitude, as we can."

Aldawin is, in fact, eyeing the thickly-grown underbrush that lines both sides of the narrow footpath they travel upon as Finnabair inquires of the same. The healer chuckles, shrugging her backpack higher upon her shoulders before answering. "I suppose I could find myself crawling through the brush," she considers. "I have done it on occasion before. But I had asked Istadris to teach me more of stealth in moving through the forest, and of tracking, so perhaps that is why he mentioned it." Her next thoughts are turned to the Haladin's words. "There was the feast held at the start of spring, there in Brethil Hall. Would they have such feasts in the forest as well? I suppose that it is a rather isolated way of living.."

Finnabair follows after the women, pausing to reach behind and tuck her bow in amongst the straps of her gear and leave it there to rest as she walks along with them, "Perhaps we could hold our own small summer celebration. Just among ourselves.", she suggests quietly, "I think that might please Lady Emeldir." Stepping over a jutting root, her footsteps pad silently over the soft flooring of the forest, "You will be glad to return to your forge, Leana?", she asks. The Sun rises red over the rim of the distant Blue Mountains.

"It is," Leana agrees with Aldawin. "To hold a feast in the forest would be a good deal of work, getting everybody to leave their homes and gather in one place. It's just as simple for those who can to go up to Amon Obel, if they wish to celebrate. We're content enough without such events, really." As Finnabair addresses her, she twists around to look briefly in her direction as she walks. "Aye, I will be. I have not had a chance to get my hands about any decent work at all here ... just little repairs and what arrowheads I could pound out. Couldn't get anything hot enough, either, I've gotten blacksmith's arm again, with having to pound harder."

The breezes are still insistent as they rustle the leaves and coax the branches of pine, birch and oak to waving overhead. Aldawin reaches up to grab her hair into a clasp, tucking it between tunic and collar as she, too, avoids the same jutting root that crosses the pathway before her. "I wonder how the Lady has been?" the healer speaks of Emeldir. "Her babe will have grown some by now." And she smiles with the thought. "But what has been said of the yrch, Finnabair?" is questioned in a lowered tone. "It was towards the Brithiach that Istadris and the other went, was it not? Has any word been sent since their departure?"

Finnabair laughs at Leana's last, pointedly taking a few steps away from her, "Remind me never to anger you Leana, at least not while I am within arm's reach. Nor will I ever challenge you in a bout of arm wrestling." Sobering though when Aldawin adds to the conversation, she says, "I have not even see Emeldir's child.", she notes, sounding surprised herself, "And I have not heard word of or from Istadris.", she adds simply. "Perhaps he will have sent to Amon Obel, if he has not already returned there himself."

Lee's hair whips into her face, though it is cropped too short for her to pull back, and instead she simply pushes it out of her eyes every now and then. She grins at Finnabair's jest, laughing but also wincing and rubbing briefly at her right elbow. "Well, just because I have built up some arm strength pounding at iron doesn't mean you probably couldn't thrash me," she says with unusual frankness. "I only get into fist fights with my cousins when I'm angry, I've learned at least the manners not to do it with anyone else." She pauses, interested in the conversation about Emeldir, but having nothing to add to it.

Though the healer only nods at Finnabair's answer, her gaze lowering to thoughtfullness for a moment, Aldawin cannot help but grin at the smithy, shaking her head as she says, "I have seen how your cousins run for fear of your wrath." By its tone and the soft laughter accompanying it, it is clearly a jest, though the next offered is in sincerity. "I may have a salve that would help with the soreness of your arm. Though nothing will help as much as giving yourself a rest between such poundings.... Perhaps getting a drink at the tavern? Now that I shall look forward to," she says with gentle laughter.

Finnabair smiles broadly to herself, "Do not worry, Leana, if I have need to thrash you, I can and will.", she says quiet simply, winking over at Aldawin who teases the girl too. "Whenever you wish to stop for a rest.", she advises them, moving ahead of the two slightly. Travelling on silently through the unevenly lit forest, making their way diligently toward the centre of the forest, Finnabair strides with her pack bouncing against her back, now and then leaving the pair to investigate something in the trees beyond where the walk.

"Remind me to get that salve from you, then," Lee notes to Aldawin, grinning slightly at the teasing. "And I will take more rest, too. A drink at the tavern ... not something I've really missed out here, as I know too many of the lads who hang about there." Leana turns her head to peer after the ranger whenever she parts their company, but continues striding sturdily along. She does not go very fast, yet neither does she seem to tire easily, despite her somewhat heavy pack.

"Perhaps there is just something about a Tavern," Aldawin muses in turn to Leana's comment. "The conversations and the hearthside. A campsite has not the same feel about it, though one may hear the most interesting things among scouts who do not think their voices can be heard." She grins, then shrugs, moving along under the mottled light as the shafts of the sun's rays play amidst the breeze-beckoned leaves. "There..." she points to a tri-gouged marking upon the rough bark of a pine's trunk. "Bear?" she wonders, slowing her pace just a little to get a closer look.

"Mayhap," Lee says, eyes flickering briefly over the mark in the bark. "I can think of no other animal that makes that mark." Shrugging it off, the apprentice smith continues on her way, not content to be long delayed on the way to Amon Obel.