Jax didn't feel tiered at all, his mind not registering the damage and strain put on his muscles yet. He walked slowly over to the wall and injoyed the falling rain. But at his first relaxe he colapsed backwards against the wall and fell to the ground onto his kness.

Jax sighed hard as mind faded. He had recived only a few minor cuts and bruses but had pushed himself to the limit.

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Khamdul wiped his scimitar with an Orc corpse he found. He took off his helmet and removed his headscarf, breathing in the fresh air that came. Now he had to present himself to the leaders of this army. Sighing, he stood up and went to look for him.

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I was cured all right.

Jax sat there for a long time, recovering internaly from the battle. He could not tell much of what ws going on around him... he was drawn in, saving energy for the healing process.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

After asking several Rohirrim, he went towards for Lady Arinae. He saw her and came running towards her. He dropped to his knees and said, "Lady Arinae, I have been sent to see you."

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I was cured all right.

Jax opened his eyes to see the new face there infront of Arinae. The man was a skilled warrior but had helped in the fight so Jax assumed he would be of no problem.

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Arinae looked up sharply, drawn away from her thoughts by a voice. For a moment it took her a while to respond, as she recalled the face before her, remembering him to be the one who had been pulled into camp, injured. She had seen him occasionally during battle, and had been surprised to see him fighting, heedless of the wound he had been treated for.

However, she had no physical strength, nor had she will, to stand, weariness keeping her seated on the step, but her eyes examined the man knelt before her. "Been sent...? By whom? Who are you and how is it that you have come to be here?" Arinae questioned firmly, though her voice was quiet.

She pulled her hand from her shoulder, placing it instead against her sword hilt, though she had no intention of seeming to oppose a threat. She remained silent while waiting for the stranger's answer, her gaze straying slightly in search of more familiar faces.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

As the rain continued to pour and wash away or make new pools of blood Aemornion felt the heavy reek in the air of the fallen orcs that had been dragged out. The moist of the air made it even harder. No pyre could be started for there was no dry wood for leagues and leagues.

Forcing himself to raise his gaze and battle out the wearyness from his body, Aemornion noticed Jax drop to his knees. Worry crossed his face that he might have been heavily wounded, but soon he noticed the strained expression of wearyness on the man. He sighed.

Hearing a sneeze in the slight distance Aemornion noticed Arinae sitting on sokaed steps, her gaze bent. He also percieved the man whom he saw during the battle, the one that was treated in the tents, kneeling infront Arinae. Slight puzzlement crossed his features but also awareness of some possible scam still unforseen.

With a weary stride he walked to their direction and slowly walked up the steps towards Arinae listening to the conversation for a while, not wishing to disturb for some answers might come from themselfs.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

"The guard who has kept me has told me to go to you after the battle," Khamdul said. "I am Khamdul, former of Serpenthands tribe of the Easterlings. I was a warrior for them, killing and raiding other tribes. But in a raid, a woman begged for my mercy, which I granted. However that act has exiled me from my tribe. I came upon your land, seeking Saruman, but I did not see him. I took part of a Wild Men raid, when I saved a group of children in a burning house. I ran away from the Wild Men, only to be shot at by them and the orcs. Wounded, I came into your camp, seeking aid. I heard you were fighting Wild Men and was eager to join the fight. That is my story."
Khamdul waited for what she will say.

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I was cured all right.

Arinae paused for a moment, thoughtful to this man's words, doubt at first filling her mind, but she saw the desparation and lack of a lie in his eyes. "Khamdul... I witnessed in what way you battled our enemy, and it is in my judgement that you should be pardoned, though it is not up to me to grant you full pardon. I must, however, give to you a warning... if in any way you cause high doubt among my men and that of Gondor to the fact that you are indeed truthful and good, then you shall be taken and judged differently."

She spoke in a calm collected voice, then after a pause, she motioned towards where healers were assisting the wounded. "If you wish to prove further your good intentions, I would request you assist with the wounded," Arinae added with a gently smile.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

"Thank you, milday. You are truly merciful," Khamdul said before going off and trying to heal the wounded. His countrymen's idea of healing was..well..barbaric. But Khamdul knew of some herbs that could aid him in his tasks.

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I was cured all right.

Jax could barely move for a moment. Finally he forced himself back to his feet after a long rest. He looked around to see the injured being aided. He tried to help, but he couldn't do much.

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With a keen gaze Aemornion watched Khamdul's behaviour and weighted his every word. As the man left he stepped up closer to Arinae and collapsed to a seat by her side onto the stone steps. With a muffled groan he winced slightly and took a deep breath. As they were mostly alone he spoke.

"What do you believe are his intentions so far north?" voice low as his gaze followed Khamdul's every step until he was out of sight. Slowly Aemornion's gaze went towards the far enterence into the glittering caves beyond. He remained silent at the moment for his assumptions.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

"When a soul is as troubled as I assume his is, one needs no reason to merely wander to distant lands to find his meaning and purpose," Arinae murmured, giving a slight nod of greeting toward Aemornion. Altering the subject, she glanced him over for a moment, "how did you fair in the battle, Milord?"

Her own gaze followed his to the caves, thoughts unspoken but shared, as she stared silently, preoccuppied with a foreboding feeling. Arinae rubbed subconciously at her shoulder for a moment, the rain still not ceasing and the chill creating an uncomfortable effect.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Khamdul came upon a wounded Gondorian soldier. He knelt down and said, "Here, I'll try to help you." Taking a flask, he opened the lid. "This is going to sting, though," Khamdul said. He poured out a small flow of green liquid over the wound.

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I was cured all right.

Jax stopped, leaning against the wall once more to rest. After helping a few men to healers tents he was in need of a rest.

His strength returned slowly but evedently as his action degressed after the battle.

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Aemornion's gaze remained on the caves also and he nodded to the first given answer, a strange feeling filled his guts. He realised he was adressed about his well-being a moment ago by Arinae noticing his delay with the answer. The rain did not wish ti stop and he was soaked to the bare skin of his body and water was trickling down his cheeks and short beard.

"Spent all my strength for a good part, but mostly I am unharmed" he murmured the words in a low voice "Which I cannot say for other good men...." he trailed off as he percieved the many wounded and slain. No man was left unchallanged or unbruised in their ranks.

Aemornion then took a deep breath and figured it was time to open the topic that seemingly haunted both of them. "What about the caves milady? I have some ill feeling about what lies behind their enterence." ha spoke but still in a low voice, obviously weary "The more we tarry, the bigger the danger might be behind them." he sighed "What I wouldn't give to be astray in my asumptions...." his fingers idly played along the sword hilt.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.