Arandur watched out of the corner of his eye as the women get up, and a hint of a smile twitched at his lips as she tucked the arrow into her sleeve, but he said nothing. Turning to Fearan he said apologetically, "I'm sorry about the rough welcome. I was a little upset, thats all."

Deawen tucked her knees under her chin and sat quietly her azure eyes flicked from one person to the next calculating the strength and speed of each person.each one towered over her by atleast two heads she would have the advantage of agility but they had a longer reach. she felt the warm sticky trickle of blood run down her back and arm lifting her cloak alittle she noted her left sleeve was drenched with her own blood. she wasn't bleeding as much as she was but the wound was deep it would have to be taken care of.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

I'll join!

name: Rochir
Race: Dunedain
age: 48
gender: Male
country: Arnor
eye colour: Blue
hair: Short black hair. Jagged. Layered
family: Unknown
dress: Black war pants with a white tunic
Shirt of maille in battle.
weapons: Two curved swords *one strapped to each side*, bow and arrow *elven made*, ankle dagger

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rochir felt the battle still close, but it was gone. He smiled and screamed victoriously.

_________________

<center>
"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
</center>

( didn't we just finish a battle?)

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(oops) sorry
i'll edit

_________________

<center>
"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
</center>

(Ahhh! Gandalf! Your banner is too big! The dreaded "stretch posts" have appeared. Haha. No worries. but could you please fix it? I't annoying to have to scroll across to read a post. Thank you! )

"I'm a ranger in these parts, desendent of Numenor." Fearan answered. "I'm sorry I questioned you. I too would be quite upset if someone tried to claim my head." He glanced toward the woman. Much to his surprise, she was drenched in blood. Cautiously, as though he were apporaching a wild animal, Fearan drew some bandages and moved toward the woman. "And your name is...?" He asked her, meeting her gaze. She appeared deadly and fierce, and yet perfectly sane. "Why did you try to kill Elegost?" He held out the bandages for her to take.

( yes please...by the time i scroll past them My clothes go out of style then come back in style...thats scary )
Deawen watched him carefuly but made no movement only her keen eyes moved. she stiffened at the question " Lady Deawen daughter of lord Tearen the horse Breeder of Rohan " Deawen answered carefuly Her father was well known for the horses he bred gaited horses that could carry a rider for many miles in a smooth gait effortlessly. Deawen own stallion was part of that breed. Deawen took the bandages but did not unravel them she placed them next to her feet and wrapped her arms over her knees. " My motives are my own why does it matter?" " you would not understand anyway" Deawen finished and picked up the bandages she handed them back without taking any. " I cannot tend my wounds here for modesty's sake" Deawen said truthfuly the wound was located on her upper shoulder blade and it would have to be stitched. " But i thank you for your kindness"
Deawen could be cold hearted and fierce but she responded to kindness.
her past drove her to desparet actions, and now consiquences caught up with her.
Deawen took a deep breath and began to whisper her motives
"I hate all gondorians, always have my father promised me to a gondorian lord when i was young i ran away and got lost. I came upon a Gondorian army camp and stole a loaf of bread I was caught and the General of the soldiers had me whipped...He beat me everyday i was there " Deawen paused " he took me back to my father, I later found out this man was my betrothed so one night I killed him I ran away again since then i have been hunted down. all gondorians are all the same " Deawen finished and closed her eyes " i do not ask forgiveness, or your pity "

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Deawen..." the name sounded familiar, and sinister, like he had heard the name along with a warning. Still...she was out manned, out armed, and wounded. "Bandage your arm, ma'am." Fearan commanded with an even voice. "It'd be quite rude to watch you bleed to death. The bandage will stop the blood enough until it can be stitched up" He left the bandages at her feet.

Deawen frowned at the bandages " If I die what would it matter least you would not have to worry about me murdering you in your sleep"Deawen muttered as she ripped the bandages in half she folded one half. she lifted her cloak and shirts collar to expose the wound the blood had clotted but the shirt stcuk to the wound. She painfuly pulled the shirt away and placed the bandage over it and used th other half to tie over it to hold it in place. her face showed little emotion but her eyes glittered with pain.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Murder me?" Fearan grinned. "It'd take might more than you to kill me,"

About her story....it was unnusual that she spit it out so quickly. A small warning blared in Fearan's mind that this "Deawen" was bluffing. He wouldn't put it past her either. "I'm not sure about your accustations, ma'am" He said in a conversational tone. "I've never met a Gondorian, 'cept for now, but from what I hear they're nice enough folk. They're my kin, in a way."

Deawen Shrugged with one shoulder " don't underestimate me " she warned. she listened to his words politely " gossip can often be misleading" she said picking at her cloak. she had a talent of hiding all emotion in her face like it was nothing more than a mask a porceilin mask with blue eyes hiding beneath it watching. she showed no shock at Fearan's discovery of her lie she had given her name but not the story. she had learned it better to keep silent. he did not say wether she lied or not but by his tone and most of all the play of words she was able to see his thoughts.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Deawen said nothing to Elegost. she leaned back placing her hands a little ways behind her. her fingers brushed the hand grip of her sword she looked uncertain as what to do. slowly her hand closed over the hand grip, why they had not disarmed her by now was unkown to her. then like a sudden flash of lightening she jumped to her feet sword in hand. she first slashed at Arandur but missed her target. she remembered Elegost's deadly aim and spun around and faced him. her grip on the hilt loosened and her vision blurred slightly. she felt dizzy and lightheaded.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Rochir cleaned his sword, sharpening it in a small place of his own.

_________________

<center>
"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
</center>

Arandur stood calmly as Deawen's sword whistled past his ear, but as she spun to face Elegost she wavered uncertainly. He stepped in and with a twist of his wrist, disarmed her and tossed her sword away. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "Easy now."

Rochir watched as Deawen's sword flew oh so close towards Arandur's ear. He gasped and wondered what had caused the outbreak.

_________________

<center>
"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
</center>

Deawen flinched at his touch and slowly sank to her knees " I am tired " she said suddenly as she placed her hand on her wound fresh blood seeped from her cloak her eyes were cast downward and did not focus she didn't look Fierce anymore she began to shake alittle from her loss of blood. "It's seems Orome is set against me today, I am at your mercy " Deawen said diplomaticaly placing her hands in her lap palms up.

a red mark on her right palm now highlighted with her blood was visible.
It was a brand in a perfect circle with a Dragon curling around a skull The mark of a Phantom. It would explain her attacking Elegost and her calm expressions. THe phantoms were once a hired Army but after the war of the ring they grew too restless without battle and did not like the new king so they rebled and fled to the north and have made their headquarters somewhere in the realms of Arnor. attacking any regiment that approached killing and asking questions later.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home