[IC] In the starving time

Stirring gently, Gisela's eyelids flutter under the unwelcome glare of the morning sun flickering across her face.

"... Hrm, no no dear. Leave the curtains, we can wait..."

Gisela's eyes focus, their attention drawn to the open sky visible from what shelter within these hills the party had managed to find the night before. Time to start another morning of her new life, to shake off the memories and habits formed over many years.

The Rabbits Foot is long behind you Gisela. But that doesn't mean you don't have patrons to attend to...

Stretching out her arms and legs while audibly smacking her lips together, Gisela lifts herself up and begins to stretch our her old, creaking form. Looking over at her compatriots she smiles warmly, her face a picture of a life well lived with few regrets. While her age may have left her small even for a Halfling, Gisela wastes no time warming up with morning exercises and is quickly back to her usual self - well kept and spry for a woman her age.

"I think, dearies, we had best discuss our next move. A path walked without a plan is as good as a blind stroll into a hole, as they say! Perhaps we could plan out where to next? I think we all agree these hills just won't do..."

Gisela's eyes focus on the surrounding areas, her mind clearly setting to work.

"Maybe a trip to the west and south through the forests below? Come along, let's everyone put forward some thoughts and then I'll see what I can gather and whip us up for breakfast... Think of it as a reward for putting our minds to work so early, hmm?!"

Eldar returns from an early first watch to see Gisela already awake. As usual his monk elven steps are as silent as a breeze in the countryside, so he clears his voice before speaking as not to startle anyone.
"Morning Gisela, slept well?"
He closes in the shelter.
"I saw nobody in the paths around our shelter, and it seems that the weather will be nice on us today and tomorrow. Not too cold, not to warm, not too cloudy. I may even hunt something later."
Eldar always thought that this hills, as protected as they were by the mountains around, could also become a trap if attacked by stronger foes with bigger armies. Of course, a good place to defend if we had such big army, but we don't.
He refreshed his face with some cold water, and opened his map on a big rock to evaluate a route for the travel ahead.

The Northman, Ulfheddin stood silent vigil over the room. Green gold eyes unblinking observed passively as Gisela went about her morning routine. He said nothing, she didn't pay him to talk. He had already cleaned much of the site. Stoked the fire, added some softwood as fuel. Checked the knots, leaned the sheets. Even set himself to beating dust out of the laundry before his apathy set in. He never asked what needed done, for that was how he earned his keep. He just did what he saw needed doing.

He nodded along with the treatise of strategy regarding their encampment, it wasn't an ideal place to hide. But it wasn't a hiding place they were looking to be. Anyone's port in the storm. Ulfheddin would have said as much if he thought it made a difference. Eldarenth was well meaning, that is what mattered. The presence of another fighting man gave him a great deal of comfort.

Ulfheddin had been on the losing side of the war of succession. He was Druzhinnik, companion to a dead monarch. Exiled and never to return home. But he held himself with unimpeachable pride and dignity regardless of this. When Gisela mentioned a time to plan Ulfheddin nodded his agreement. She didn't pay him to talk.

Talayan rolls out of her bed and up on her feet. She stretches and enjoys the satisfying crack of her joints. Then she rubs the sleep from her brown eyes and scratches her chin, setting the braided strands of beard swinging. A lock of dark blond hair falls into her eyes and she pushes it away.

"Morning all." She walks over and leans in to look at the map laid out before Eldarenth. "Aye. I won't be missing these hills, though I'll be sorry to see those majestic mountains disappear from sight."

She points a grubby finger to the forest and then taps on the town sandwiched between the forest and the hills. Something is written there. "What does it say?" She spells it out, the letters swimming a little bit. "C A W T H E R… cow there?" She smacks her lips as if tasting the word. Then she shrugs. The name doesn’t ring a bell. "It would offer shelter for a bit, wouldn’t it?"

She slips her hammer into her belt and the knife into the sheath. "Gisela, you need me to carry anything for you today?" She jangles her pack invitingly as she does every morning.

She starts humming quietly, a deep, low rumble that seems to emanate from her broad chest.

Alfred slowly emerged from the embrace of sleep. But he hadn't opened his eyes yet. Once upon a time, in the good times, he did this every day. First: the mission. Focusing. Objective. Motivation. Only then: he allowed himself to come into reality.

But now... now there are other times - bad times. He quickly got up from the bed, which in this case: was an expensive and ornate carpet with an image of his great-grandfather holding a lance on a horse. It has been with him for as long as he can remember. It was always laying next to his bed, in his comfortable room... in his comfortable family house... But now ... now he doesn't know himself why he took it with him at all. It seems quite silly and childish under the circumstances. But whatever! He felt at least soft on those rocks! And as Pimpula - the old maid from his family home - used to say: the most important thing is: to get enough sleep.

His eyes met his mount, which was tied at the corner of the camp. The Fakir was a beautiful animal, his pride. Even now: when instead doing some crazy racing with Alfred at its back, he is serving as a pack mule for the group... He is also the second (out of three) thing that reminded him of what life he had lived before he left his family home ... "To investigate the greatest secrets of the world! "... Was he really so naive? Currently, the biggest mystery in the world that interested him ... was whether he would eat something for breakfast today or not. He even smiled a little to himself, thinking about the absurdity of the situation. It's good that he took that old Mrs. Gisela with him back then. Although, in fact, the term "old lady" - as it turned out later - does not fit her too much. Despite the appropriate age. That and Fakir's faithful gaze cheered him up a little.

Waking up, he heard that the team wanted to plan further steps. [i]He had to be there![/I] Swaying slightly - as he had just gotten up and not all of his muscles seemed to be as awake as his mind - he immediately walked over to the little meeting that had been held by the map.
Morning! Shouldn't we stay out of the cities? There might still be soldiers there. I support Mrs. Gizela: we should stick to the forest for now. There is always a chance that we will catch a deer there ... which will provide us with food for a few days.

At this very second, his stomach decided to make a noise. Noise more like a yawning bear ... than anything else.

Ulfheddin nodded along in agreement with the sentiment of staying out of the cities. "Mhm." He grunted in affirmation of that plan. He pointed to the stream to the northwest on the map. Without much else to do the massive northman sat upon a stump and began to hone his axe on the whetstone with practiced ease while other's weighed his indicated direction.

Gisela's eyes twinkle as she nods enthusiastically at Eldar's question.

"Oh yes dear, like the proverbial log! I always sleep better knowing we have you to help keep the morning watch! As for a hunt... well that sounds grand! Perhaps I could look about for some herbs to go with game..."

Gisela's thoughts wander momentarily as her mind is overcome with the phantom smell of better times, food prepared for happy travellers who pay equally in both gold and grand tales of sights seen... A mild breeze whips through Gisela's bones, bringing her back to the current reality and her face scrunches in concentration as the group begins to discuss what movements would be best taken.

Gislea's mood clearly lifts slightly as she focuses on Talayan's melodic humming.

"Talayan dear, I'm not quite as helpless as I look you know!"

Gisela chuckles, a dry but warm sound.

"Still, I wouldn't say no to help carrying the pot! You're a good woman to offer."

Gathering behind the others overlooking the map, Gisela listens thoughtfully and looks about her compatriots.

Ulfheddin was as quiet and difficult to read as ever, but Gisela had come to find his focused outlook very comforting. There was something reassuring about the man in these difficult times. He was like a mountain, imposing for some certainly, but always a reliable point of reference. It was clear he agreed with Alfred and wished to avoid the cities and stick to the wilds. Gisela was not so sure...

"Well dearies, the way I see it... My vote would be to start with the forest and then head south? I know we want to avoid soldiers, so heading in to the city itself may be dangerous but... Could we not take a look? From a distance at least? There may be signs of where others have fled to if nothing else. Eventually we need to find others, yes? We can't be the only decent folk trying to make their way around these parts now can we? ... Can we?"

Gisela tries her best to keep a forced cheerful tone in her voice as she discusses the possibility of other survivors, but it is impossible to not note the desperation creeping in. Of all things, it is Alfred's stomach growling that draws her out of this mood. She grins and cheekily wags a finger in his direction.

"Aha! I see someone has voted for us to focus on food first! We've got enough rations to get today's breakfast out of the way, worry not. I'll pay you back for you and your valiant steed's help yet!"

Gisela places her finger to her lip and looks thoughtfully off into the middle distance.

"Whatever we decide, a hunt sounds good so we should check for any flowers that may help with healing... You never know when something may go wrong, best to be prepared for fever!"

"How about this, we all agree we want to head to the forest first yes? I suggest we eat up and get the morning preparations out of the way. Once we've reached the forest we can hunt and gather, then vote on whether we want to head north or south. Sound good?"

Talayan makes room for Alfred at the map and grins at Gisela.

"The pot? I can certainly carry the pot." and she steps behind Gisela and lifts her a foot off the ground. "An iron pot, yes?" Then she lowers the older lady again. "Just jesting miss Ironpot, I’ll carry the pot for you. Once we’ve had some breakfast!"

She reaches into her pack and takes out a piece of hard tack. "Your porridge vastly outshines this. Reminds me of me mam’s.. The porridge I mean. Not this!" She mimics chucking the hard tack back into the pack willy-nilly, but does stash it carefully in its wrappings.


She leaves the map to the others and steps over to Ulfheddin to watch him sharpen his axe. She bumps him gently with a hip, conscious not to do it at a critical time in his movements.

"You remind me of my father. You move like him doing this. When I was just a wee lass I’d sit in the crook of his arm, swaying with every movement, listening to the grind and to his voice." She nods to herself. "I wonder what stories you have to tell, I’m sure you have many. Would be good to hear them."

Not really expecting an answer she looks back towards the others. "I will go wherever y’all goes, whether it be the forest, the town or even north towards the river. I’ll even help forage. Though, knowing me I’ll probably pick Bitterweeds instead of flowers."

All this talk about breakfast made Alfred quite enthusiastic. There might have been even a shadow of a smile on his face.
"So we have agreement on this: first we prepere the breakfast... <happy smile again for a secound> I will share my finest meat with you, as we need strenght for the coming journey. I will go for brushwood in a moment, to reignate the fire. Can we still hide the smoke in the light of a day? Anyone of you, my firends, know how to do that? If not, we should pack up and depart from here as soon as... our belyies will feel some comfort... I mean as soon as we can!"

"Then we will depart south west from here, hiding in to the forest but we will stay on its souther edge to try to scout the nearby villige for any sight of human... or other movement. Did I understood this corectly, or... I'm just to hungry... ?"

Alfred gives 5 pices of meat to Gisela: "The finest out there, I can asure you miss Gisela. But probalby there are no better hands that I could put those in." He felt a certain resistance to share in him... but he was fast to overcome it, a little ashamed. He knew this was the right thing to do. Maybe... these people are all that he has left now?

Eldar has been so concentrated on the map, he barely kept track of the conversation around the camp.
Then he shared some ideas:
"From what we know, every densely populated area, like towns and castles, would be target for bandits and warlocks and such foes with their larger forces we probably should avoid. Those enemies would be also looking to stablish a permanent base and eventually expand their dominion."
The he points to the middle of map... "Most larger populated areas are around here, and roads that connect them. So I suggest we avoid this whole area for the time being."
Then he points to the east, north east, from their current place " Here, beyond the big desert surrounded by mountains, there is a smaller valley, and in the middle of it, the Temple of Zhor.
From what I remember, they are not the richest place around and it's accesses are difficult, so shouldn't be an initial target for main foes. I knew the abad there and he was a very good, intelligent and friendly old man. Hopefully he is still there and will accept us there. Otherwise, we may negotiate a place for our own around. Worst case scenario, we may be forced to take control of the place... then still, I think it is a good place to create a permanent base."
He then looks up from the map, to see his friends faces
"If that goes well, we can then think thether to spend our control to the north, this Northern Pass, or to the south to the other temple.
What do you think?"

"Mmhmm." Ulfheddin nodded emphatically at the notion of breakfast. His bright eyes lit up at the notion of eating something warm.

When discussions of a hunting party were raised Ulfheddin was greatly interested but not having a bow he didn't volunteer himself. He set back to honing his axe, a well maintained thing made of strange black and lustrous steel.

"Caedmil Talayan." He offered a friendly greeting in Quen'ya an Elvish language. When Talayan made her interest known in his past Ulfheddin sighed and his head felt heavy. He stared at his boots for a few seconds and shook his head. A profound melancholy in his eyes. "Die Minn tongue der kostful lossen. Nein, ich nicht sprach der teil todagh." When Ulfheddin said "Minn tongue" he made a disgusted face.

That was the most he had ever said, in Palais Adunaic it was unlikely much translated though much of the common tongue came from Adunaic, it had been far too long since Elros had begun the race of man, Dunėdain like Ulfheddin didn't leave the west much. The Exception were the Numen, from the North - their Kingdom Numenor being the one that had just fractured in civil war.

He didn't want to set the tone that he was offended however and offered a shrug. He took a moment to piece the words together. Stringing together a few words in broken common. "Dunėdain no speak Mannish. Is pigdog speak." His heavy accent and deep rumbling bass gave the impression he did not think very highly of the race of man. "Vi er Varangian, from Fremmedland, er Nordland. From yonder." Ulfheddin pointed to the north. He took a deep breath and told what he could articulate. "Mine train Southron, Karlos Magnus called me son, and Prince of Miklagaard, the great white city in Southron Sands. We Varangian Guard, we Jomsviking, righteous shields and swords. We vike to Fremmedland as Karlos Magnus ordered and we make Koenigsegg, kingdom. We fight, we fight more, we win much. My brother we call him Volsung, he was good man and maybe my father Sigmund the Volsung. Him rule a great kingdom, much peace, much trade, much industry, much wealth. But his brother kill him, for those same reasons. We do what must be done for the vengeance of Sigmund. We fail and fail badly, Sigmund's wife Brynhildr was killed her sons too. We win some, find allies, it starts a bigger war. We lose that war, we lose our land, we lose our house, our horse, we lose our wife. We here now. We waiting, Karlos Magnus will not be happy with his beloved son being murdered. Less happy with a pretender Karlos on the throne. We think times are good now, but when The Black Numenorean comes, many people will die in fire and war. Karlos Magnus punishes the wicked with iron and fire. We owe him our sword and shield." There were many gaps in time in his story, Dunėdain did not die of old age, they weren't immortal but many Royal Dunėdain had been alive since the second age. Ulfheddin may well have been the oldest living being for leagues if what he said was true. "Is not happy tale, but I am not happy. It is right then I think."

Even as he spoke Ulfheddin hadn't missed a stroke as he continued to grind his axe bit. There were times in his story that he pressed harder indicating he had particularly strong, angry, emotions. But his tone of voice seemed rather oddly flat, he was either very good at suppressing his feelings, or so out of control emotionally that changes in them weren't reflected in his speech and his anger had gone quite cold. Satisfied with the quality if the edge on the axe he withdrew his Arming Sword after setting the axe aside. The blade was in atrocious shape, many inclusions along the length of it. It was rusted as well, Tarnished from having been put away dirty. This was the blade of a killer and the steel had gone blue-black from the amount of blood it had tasted. But where the blade wasn't included, it glimmered viciously.

Ulfheddin took a handful of sand and began to carefully rub it on the worst part if the caked blood, the smell was terrible as the blood began to give way to the grit.

Gisela lets out a surprised yelp as Talayan lifts her into the air. A hearty chuckle bursts forth, her feet swinging in the air as her diminutive frame shakes with mirth.

"I should have seen that coming really, shouldn't I?"

Once back upon the ground, Gisela's face settles into a crinkled smile at the mention of her cooking. There is a pride that shows clear as day upon her face, earned through decades of hard work and care.

"Well then, let's get breakfast on! They say there is no cook finer than one's own mother Talayan." Gisela gives a cheeky wink as she starts setting up her gear. "We'll do our best to make yours proud, hmm?"

Noting Alfred's enthusiasm, Gisela pats his hand warmly as he hands over the meat.

"I'll make good use of this dear. Thank you, this will make for fine flavouring indeed! Why don't you go fetch some tinder for the fire? I'll come with you and keep an eye out for any flowers or herbs along the way... Whether for food or fever, it should be a good use of my time!"

Gisela turns to listen to Eldar's suggestions with interest, her respect for his opinion easy to read from her face.

"You raise fair points Eldar... Well, who am I to argue with such knowledge! I'm all for it. Let us hope this abad of yours is still there and as wise as you recall! If you wish to lead the way, I shall follow. Though I can't see a way we could get there without crossing mountains... Perhaps we had best spend the day hunting and foraging to gather supplies before we set out tomorrow?"

Gisela returns from her trip in time to hear the beginning of Ulfheddin's tale. While the fire crackles and the porridge bubbles, Gisela's face is neutral. Much of Ulfheddin's words are uninterpretable to her, but the meaning behind them speaks clearly of something ancient and long lost.

Gisela takes aside some bowls and begins using her spoon to dole out the morning's nourishment for each of her fellow travellers. As she reaches Ulfheddin she tries her best to give him a reassuring smile, seemingly unconcerned by the cleansing of blood from his blade.

"It is never right to not be happy dear. Eat up."

Much to her surprise Ulfheddin starts to speak. The sounds are foreign but there’s also a familiarity to them, but a familiarity that doesn’t translate to a full understanding. The odd languages of the Elvish were not often heard around where she’d grown up.

To her delight the next words are in common. Broken, hesitant and some words still unknown, but all in all the story is pretty clear. She strains and listens and already starts to commit them to memory, whispering under her breath as he speaks and adding mental images to the words. ‘Vi er Varangian. Fremmedland.’ She sees northern men bashing shields with swords, fierce and scary. And the senseless loss of his family. And the great wars fought. In her head it is both glorious and awful.

Ulfheddin’s words fade to nothing and Talayan comes back to herself sitting on the ground in front of him. She reaches out and gives his knee a squeeze.
"Thank you Ulf." Her head is swimming a bit with all the details and it is the only thing she manages to get out.

She lets her attention wander and be caught by Eldar’s suggestion for their further travels. His foresight, knowledge and strategic thinking lights a flame of awe in her. He must also have stories to tell. How can he not? But his suggestion also leaves her a little anxious. Crossing the desert feels… impossible in their current situation.

"I understand your concern about the cities and the towns. And I agree we need to find a way to make our own hold if we want to survive this… war or what we will call it. I’m worried though. that the things that dissuade stronger bands will also make it doubly hard for us. We are so few and very low on provisions."

So when Gisela suggests that they stay for one more night to build up provisions, she nods.

"As I said before. I will go wherever y’all go. Also if it is across the desert. But then we need more food. And water."

"Thank you Ulf" Eldar replied, being an elf himself, it was hard to listen to Quen'ya for him. But that is a story for another time.

"So, from what I understand, we all agree that we should have a good breakfast. Thanks Gisela for your great work on that so far!
And we agree to look for forests, not yet cities... "
Eldar tries his best to put all opinions and preferences together the best way he can...
"I suggest we hunt here, for a couple of days. In these days, the ones with bows or other appropriate hunting weapon can hunt, and others can look for herbs and mushrooms. The two teams come back here mid-afternoon and we cook, eat and dry the extra meat we find. We can set some guardian shifts for the night. Now, crossing a dessert, as Talayan implied, is always very challenging, so we should probably try to avoid that...

Once we have enough food, we could cross this mountain to the north" Eldar points hex 1206 " ...and we continue north east to this forest" then he points hex 1404 " ... We could hunt there and continue traveling through the forest up to here " now pointing hex 1504.

Eldar looks at the rest of his friends. He hopes Ursula's ideas on forest was well included, that Talayan will find it easier not needing to cross the big dessert, and that Alfred would sleep better and eat well, and that Ulf may find this a good path that should present only small groups of bandits if anyone at all.

"We may find groups of bandits or soldiers around. Hopefully we are a small enough group the pass undetected by bandits. On the other hand, good soldiers could join us on our way to Zhor, thus strengthening our forces."

"From there we could cross the Northern Pass to the south, to Zhor temple"

"Within Zhor territory, we will face difficulties, but I also hope that we all will find honour, courage, and success in this righteous fight we will face, and the path we decide today. We can share some light in the grim dark that have wronged our land! We can bring some order, some joy, some hope, to the people that join us!"

Eldar have lived long years, he had experienced being left in a Monastery at early age, before he could remember his parents. But has also lived to be an apprentice for great elven teachers, in meditation, combat, hunting, philosophy, music and strategy. And later yet, to serve as diplomat and peacekeeper when required, even when most kings back then couldn't understand his selfless motivations. Yet again he found himself in abandoned, when his monastery was sacked and destroyed... he would have preferred to die there with his brothers and sisters and teachers, but his long travel to achieve master's degree kept him away of the massacre. Not away enough to avoid seeing all the destruction a few days later when he arrived.... the destruction and the smell... Death smell... He wished he could forget. But now, in his memory, the strategy lessons took prominence. First objective was to stay alive, then secure a stronghold, and then create a place of order and wellbeing for all good people, and protect them from whatever evils lurked beyond.

After first few sips of Gisela's stew and hearing wise elf words... Alfred become almost happy. Still with some food in his mouth he said to Eldarenth:
"That's really good plan! I like your strategy thinking. It reminds me of my uncle Herbert who was my father's main strategist and was a frequent guest at our noble manor house. He always had great stories to told me, my brothers and sisters. For a brief moment he was in different place. Warm and familiar. But then: back again in this cold cave.
Not as old and grand as Ulfheddin's - but still." - he nods to the Big Man, but he seems to still be more concerned about his sword then anything else.
"So we are going through the mountains? It will indeed be easier to spot any enemies if they will go after us, but for the same reasons it is easier to set up an ambush and get into one - if there will be some different foes in the mountains. We must be extremely careful. But I prefer this, then baking myself at the desert. In normal times I love mountains and their majestic presence... they make me think... about life and everything." - he considered his words for a moment.
"But provisions are a must. - he said looking at stew - with almost some kind of love inn his eyes. - I will go collect some wood and make some traps in order to catch some rabbits. I presume we are leaving tomorrow morning?"

Eldar smiles warmly at Alfred's account of his uncle.
"I'm glad you have good memories of your uncle, he could probably give us all some lessons on strategy. So I'm honoured by the comparison."
Only now, listening to Alfred and after being so focused on the map and the plan ahead, Eldar realises his own hunger, and pours some of Gisela's stew in his plate. "Thank you Gisela, smells tasteful as always."
Then, back behind his map... "You are right, the mountain could be both helpful and difficult. And provisions must be secure beforehand. I think the alternative would be to go around the mountains, to the north west of here and then east... but that is a much longer route, with its own dangers... That's why I prefer risking one day crossing the mountains directly to the North East."
Of course the matter of food was inminent...
"If our hunt today goes well, we may find enough and cross tomorrow morning. Otherwise, we may need to hunt here tomorrow, and cross the following."
He enjoys the stew some more...
"Of course, putting rabbit traps is a great idea, also my bow here will be in the hunt and hopefully we find some larger prize as well."

Alfred ate his meal savoring every bite for as long as he could and it was appropriate to do so... Seeing that everyone has already got to work, he stands up from his sitting cross-legged and says:
"Miss Gisela... I don't have words for this! Delicious! Now: time to work!" - saying that he left the cave and departed to prepare some traps for the rabbits he is hoping to find in some distance form the cave.

At first he was quite content with his traps... but apparently he didn't set them in the right places. Time to tray again...

Ulfheddin kept busily stewardship of the camp. He maintained all the equipment that was used in daily activities cleaning what he could, sharpening it, keeping the order. He didn't stray far from the fire, seeing no need to it. After doing some chores he returned to his sword trying to fix the inclusions in it. Takinging his anger out on the steel by running the blade of his axe along it making a dreadful racket as he did.

Stopping when he cut his finger as a particularly jagged inclusion caused the axe to skip. In almost feral anger he cast the sword and cursed at it in his barbaric tongue before binding the wound and sheathing the sword. He went to his furs and sat upon them trying to find his center and failing. Giving up to depression he just laid down and covered his face.