Barad Eithel -- Outer Courtyard
High walls and lofty towers cast their long shadows down into the courtyard below. Troops often train here, learning the skills which will protect them against an implaccable foe always more numerous than they. At times, the whole of the fortress gathers here to hear the words of their commanders or of the High King himself...or to muster for battle.
Ringing the courtyard are the grainaries, armouries, smithies, stables, and other buildings which support and provide for the fortress in peace and in war.
Now, not long after the dawn has burned the mist from the reaches, a small and ragged group reaches the citadel. Their horses are muddy and foamed, and the band rides with weapon in hand, their gear soiled and bloody.
Finrod rides into the courtyard with Almar upon his steed in front of him. The human is badly wounded and the side of his horse is stained with blood.
Teigril looks out from the barracks door..and move quickly into the courtyard..her eyes scanning those returning..
Lomendaur comes into the courtyard, riding behind the unconscious form of Keladar upon horseback, slowing as he enters. The smith calls out, towards a group of dark-clothed elves near the stairway. "Friends! We will need your aid!" With that, he swings his leg over the horse, stepping down slowly, as his own leg can be seen bleeding slightly.
Finrod dismounts Mithlos and holds out his arms to help Almar down.
Andranar drops from his horse, and sends it towards the stables, calling to the watch and the stablehands as he does so.. He gestures towards the barracks for the wounded, and then goes to see that Lalwen is well within the hall.. Soon enough he returns, to look over the others.
Teigril moves nearer..her voice soft with concern, "Where..when did this happen.." but she moves closer to Almar..looking at Keladar as well. "These are the worst?" and she motions towards the barracks door.."My healing things are there..and cots.."
Finrod is only bleeding lightly from the lift shoulder through his mail. He seems more concerned with Almar than he does himself, or even his own guard, strangely.
Almar weakly climbs down accepting Finrod's help and his entire right leg is covered in blood. Standing only with aid from Finrod he looks to the barracks, "I think I need to lay down before I bleed to death." He smiles weakly to Finrod and trys to take the first step in that direction. Seeing Teigril he points to Keladar, "He is far worse than I, I can wait a bit before you check my wounds."
Finrod tells Teigril, "I will start the treatment on him." Finrod helps him to the barracks gently, but with haste.
Teigril nods, "I think..both of you will get my attention..very quickly." but as Almar is awake..she moves nearer the elf.."He is unconsious?" sh asks..
Andranar shakes his head, "I fear this is a poor welcome to Barad Eithel, Nom. But welcome all the same." He looks to see that the healers are tending the wounded, and that there is little left to do now, and goes to see to the party's horses, giving them the same look of concern.
Finrod nods to Andranar and calls to him, "Better a welcome as this than none at all." He moves Almar to the Barracks.
Lomendaur looks to Andranar, with a heavy sigh. "Shall we move this one as well?" His voice is sad, and weary, but his eyes are wide and hopeful. "Perhaps he may awaken soon, if we tend him well enough."
Andranar nods, sending the grooms off with the horses, "Aye." He looks over the fallen elf, "Your people are less suceptible to grave wounds than mine." He smiles, if a bit grimly, and gestures for Lomendaur to lead the proceedings.
Lomendaur sighs again, looking down for a moment. Then, resting his spear nearby, the elf begins to slide the elf off the horse, into his arms. "Quickly, then. And we will be of more use to him." His eyes lower, sadly, and with a soft grunt the elf winds his arms about the unconscious elf's shoulders.
Andranar nods and moves to the horse's side, supporting Keladar's legs as he is slid from his mount. Then he gestures towards the open barracks door.
Lomendaur sidesteps, hefting Keladar towards the infirmary, parallel to Andranar.
Barad Eithel -- Barracks
This is one of several buildings that house the troops which live within Barad Eithel. Made of wood, the walls and beams are carved with figures and designs, no two of which are alike. A peaked roof sheds snow in the winter and provides a place for additional stowage of gear and stores. A few hearths provide warmth and comfort during the chill that often pervades the fortress, even during summer.
Soldiers are usually found here -- working on their armor, attending their duties, resting, or even sleeping: this is their home.
Finrod guides Almar to a cot near the door and tells a guard to fetch some supplies for wound treatment.
Almar moves to a cot and sits for the moment. He removes his helmet and then struggles out of his chainmail. He is covered with wounds both front and back, but the worst is his leg. A deep gash torn in his thigh, and a number of slashes lay open his boot onthe lower calf.
Finrod gingerly removes what is left of the boot, but is more greatly concerned with the large slash. He says, "I am afraid we will need to sew that together if it is to heal correctly." He picks up a clean cloth and starts to wipe away the blood to see the wound.
Teigril notes Finrod's care of Almar..and turns to seek the elf ..looking about, she moves to the door..
Almar nods and lay down now as the loss of blood begins to make his head swim. "What ever you think best, m'lord. I know nothing of the healing arts."
A guard brings a basket with supplies and Finrod tells him to prepare a suture for the wound. He takes a pre-mixed salve and applies it to the slash. It stings a bit but stops the flow of blood. He leans over Almar and looks into his eyes. Finrod's are ever-filled with stars and light. He says, "I will give you my strength." He places his hand on Almar's forehead and fills him with a golden warmth that draws the pain away for a while. It also conjures up those memories within him that are the most pleasant as well as visions of things the human has never seen. Strange, beautifully glowing stones, odd animals and ships shaped like white swans.
Lomendaur steps slowly into the barracks, holding up Keladar's upper body, as Andranar supports the man's legs.
Finrod is treating Almar, though at the moment, he is bent over him with his hand upon his forehead, looking into his eyes. A guard is threading a needle for the wounds.
Teigril moves quickly forward..motioning to a cot.."Lay him there..this does not look like orc work..what did he meet?" as she sets her healer's trunk on a nearby table..
Almar smiles as the visions flash in his mind, and the pain slips away. He looses himself in them and trys to commit them to memory. He does not see the others in the room at this moment, instead watching the images the others can not see.
Finrod moves down to Almar's leg and holds his hand out for the needle. He starts to sew, carefully and with nimble fingers. He ties the knots swiftly and neatly, making sure the wound will heal properly.
Finrod moves to look at the wounds on the calf and decides to sew them up as well as a precaution. The guard already has a new needle ready and the king sets to work on those as well while Almar is still under the affects of his magic.
Andranar and Lomendaur carry the unconscious Keladar to an empty cot. Andranar steps back from cot, and now watches the proceedings with concern.
Teigril kneels beside the cot where Keladar is laid. "Andrarnar..could you help me with the armor?" she says, her hand going to the straps.. "I will need to see how deep.." her eyes worried as the red stain spreads..
Finrod works in the same manner on the lower part of the leg. When he is finished, he ties both wounds with firm bandages to curtail any internal bleeding and bruising. The king then moves to the more minor wounds on the chest and arms, but with the same tenderness, carefully salving and bandaging each one.
Finrod stands and covers the human with a light blanket, as if putting a son to bed, and walks away to let him sleep. He moves to where his guard lays, his face showing equal concern, even if his heart draws him to the humans first. He does not speak, he only watches and provides help if needed.
Finrod looks at his guard in dismay and places his hand on his forehead. He closes his eyes and concentrates while the humans tend to his bodily injuries.
Andranar nods. He kneels by the bedside and begins to unfasten the straps that hold the armor, until it is loose enough to be removed with care.
Teigril helps to gently take the armor of..handing it to Andranar, she carefully lays back the shirt..exposing a gash that runs from shoulder to hip.. white bone shows beneath the blood ..she frowns,taking a clean cloth from the basket on the table..she begins to sop the blood ..seeking to see the depth.. a basin of water nearby, soon she reaches for a clean cloth..and dips it in the water.. wringing it quickly..then cleanses the actual cut..
Finrod says to Andranar, his sing-song voice dismayed, "No human could survive this..." as if he questions Keladar's chances to survive. He says as an aside, "I only hope my powers can help pull him through..."
Andranar takes the armor, setting it aside to be cleaned and repaired later. He takes the bowl of rags and water and holds it close at hand now, though leaving the actual cleansing to Teigril. "You might be surprised at what the hildor can sustain, Nom. But we do not do so so cleanly or so often as your kind. Between your care, I have hope for him. Though it may fall to his will in the end."
Finrod sighs and says, "I hope his will pulls him through..." The stain on Finrod's left shoulder becomes slightly larger, but still not great. He has expended his energy on healing others, not himself.
Teigril nods, sighing as she dries the deep gash.. white bone shows in several places..a few sharp shards piercing the muscle.."Broken ribs..and the deep gash, seem to be the worst.." she reaches for a small packet in her trunk..the leaves she slides into her hand are deep green, almost as though fresh..but as she crumble them finely..lettin them fall into the deeper parts of the slash..they brighten even more.. "This will keep any infection from taking hold..for I would draw the edges close." she says, looking up at the king.."You are skilled at that..sewing tissue..and he is of your kind? I will gladly..."
Finrod says with some surprise, "Me? Well, yes, if you like, but you will both have to pull the muscle together for me until I am done..." He takes a needle from a helper. The skin of Keladar is much finer than that of Almar, and without heavy hair to interfere. He motions to the two to each push one side of the wound toward the other.
Andranar looks to Finrod, "You are not unharmed yourself, Nom!" He gestures a little, and then says almost diplomatically, "If you would allow our healers to look to that wound, I would be more easy." Then he moves to hold the edge of Keladar's wound.
Finrod kneels down beside the cot and soothes Andranar, "Worry not about my shoulder. It is only superficial compared to the others. Only a scratch. I will tend to it after this." It does not seem to be bothering him. He is either ignoring any pain, or it is truly not bad. Probably some of both.
Teigril rests her hands along Keladar's side..fingers spread..and puts her weight against the ribs..watching as the edges near.."I think is as close as it will come, M'lord.." she says..looking up ..
Finrod nods and begins to make neat stitches along the length of the wound, making them deep and sure. He sews them near to each other to ensure the wound will not rip open. He must change threads often for the wound is long, but the assistant has them prepared. His face is grim and pale and if an elf his age could appear old, he does now.
Teigril watches carefully as the elfin king places the stitches.. "I would recommend regular compresses..hot and herbed to aid in the circulation..and keep the swelling down..Would you do otherwise? I am more practiced on adan than elf..though I have treated them..on the battlefield or when your healers were not near.." She looks up, questioning..but her hands keep even pressure..
Finrod says as he finishes, "We rarely infect, we of the Firstborn. I wanted strong stitches, for muscles so practiced and tight will tend to rip apart again." He cuts the last thread and motions for the two to release the pressure slowly.
Andranar does not move much, save to reposition his fingers to make way for the stitches. "It looks to be mostly a wound in the skin and bone, and not deeper.. But it is bad enough.. He will be sore and stiff after he awakes.." He predicts, now easing his pressure slowly, and rising.
Finrod removes his helmet, finally, his fair hair matted down with sweat.
Finrod nods to Andranar, "The assistant can bandage this tightly. I will tend to my shoulder now and rest before heading back to Tol Sirion on the morrow." He works at loosening the stays of his mail, but his fingers begin to fail him after, riding, fighting and healing. Even an elf runs out of energy at some point.
Teigril sets back on her heels.."The stitches will hold well, and when he wakes..I have teas for strength and pain..' She eases her hands back..then leans forward..looking at the elf's face.."He seems young. Has he served you long, M'lord?" and looks across to Andranar, "He is lucky it was not deeper..the armor..and the bone up high ..deflected ..whatever it was that made this.."
Finrod says, "Long enough. I do not want to lose anyone. And a great bat-creature made that. I wounded it and it flew away, however." He still fumbles with the leather ties on his mail, his fingers trembling.
Andranar looks from the unconscious elf to Finrod, "I do not think your attendant will be ready to ride by tomorrow, even as quickly as your kind heal. If you'd go so soon, someone should go in his stead til he is healed." Seeing Finrods weary state, he adds, "And maybe we can save you tending yourself." He moves now to take Finrod's cloak.
Finrod nods to Andranar, "He will need to remain here until he can ride, but I must return. Oh, thank you..." as the man helps him with his cloak.
Teigril looks at the King, for the first time realizing ..the blood that stains his shoulder.."M'lord..I did not see..YOU are injured as well.." and she rises quickly, moving near Finrod.."Your attendant will rest a few moments..ere he needs more care. If I might look.." And she stands..hands poised before his shoulder..
Finrod nods, giving up on the leather knots. Blood slowly seeps from between the silver mail rings.
Finrod manages to struggle out of the mail. His undershirt is torn at the shoulder revealing three short, but deep scratches, also made by the bat-creature.
Andranar glances towards Keladar's rent armor, and then Finrod's. "Your mail has served you well this last night. The smiths here will repair it." he states. Then he goes to one of the hearths to set another kettle of water to heat. Returning he finds a seat on a nearby bench, to watch..
Finrod nods and unties the front of the shirt to pull it off his shoulder, "That should be sufficient. It is a flying creature. This was caused by one of its hands or wings or whatever... No, it is not a bite." His silvery-crimson blood trickles down his muscular arm. Perhaps there is a mild poison to prevent the clotting of blood.
Andranar nods, from where he sits. "A newer enemy, though one that has been rumored of.. A great bat, as the gwaur are as to wolves.." He shakes his head, "She has powers beyond the werewolves though.."
Teigril shakes her head..holding a heavy pad of cloth against the wound..'I think perhaps some herbs..to aid the clotting." she says, almost to herself.."I shall lay the leaves on the bandage..that they shall stop this loss.." Teig takes another small packet from the trunk.. and gently removes a lacy leaf..and then another..laying them carefully on a clean square of cloth.. She lifts the compress and quickly replaces it with the poulticed dressing.. bandaging it in place..
Andranar frowns, "I cannot say.. Some evil spirit sent against us by the Dark One. Though I do not think they are numerous, whatever they are.." he says, a little brighter. "She said it had a name, though she did not give it." he adds.
Finrod sits patiently while Teigril bandages his left shoulder. He shows neither comfort nor discomfort at the treatment. He answers Andranar, "A dangerous beast indeed, to fell my guard in such a manner. Its attack style is not something I am used to either. I was fortunate to get a good blow on the creature before it flew away."
Teigril ties the ends of the bandage..her fingers running over it one last time..to smooth and be sure it's firm. "A strange creature it sounds..and I wonder if it poisons as well?" She smiles, "Tis the best that I can do for you..M'lord..it will be a bit stiff, but it should heal leaving no mark.." and nods as he rises.
Finrod stands after receiving treatment and says, "I should get some rest before heading back to the tower. Thank you for your ministrations." He nods to Teigril and offers her a tired, but dazzingly white smile. He than puts his hand on Andranar's shoulder and tells him, "Thank you for keeping my kin safe. It was a joy to see you again, Andranar of Dor-Lomin. I hope next we meet we might partake in more pleasurable activities such as dining and hunting. You are welcome in my tower anytime you wish, of course." He glances at Almar and says to no one in particular, "Please tell him I am sorry to depart with such haste." This was the man he married to Maegwyn not long ago. He heads out the door.
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