Othar shook his head firmly "I am no lord kind and mighty lady, just a mere soldier like all of us that came here" he replied in a low but warm tone while watching her slender facial features. "If you need assistance i beg you not too hasitate to call upon me" he said and with that he limped off while using the spear as support.

After helping with the wounded Aemornion also went to assist in piling up the wreched evil onto the pyre. Soon a fire was set and the raw but rotten flesh sizzled on it and filled the valley with dark smoke.

Other men have carefully placed their comrades to their final rest and the mound was sealed. All around the mound spears and swords had been laid and so marked the final resting place of the brave Rohhirim and gondorian warriors alike.

Aemornion's eyes strayed towards the swords speared into the ground around the mound. He didnt wish to count, it was too bitter for him and to painful and he knew that men will soon come to him with heart-breaking news of who those men are that lay there. He begun cleaning his sword idly while walking slowly up the slope. The eyes and the face grim and pained by the loss.

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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.

Jax sat on his ankles, knees against the ground. Motionless as the words ran through his mind. "Run! Run before I kill you!" the echos replayed in his mind. The image of his brother fleeing from the battle after there long fight.

Jax reached down and pulled the dager out of his uper leg, his pants around the wound soacked for nearly a squar foot. His body was so numb he barely felt the pain. Slowly he stood to his feet, looking off int eh direction his brother had escaped.

Jax limped slowly back to teh camp, stopping to help another wounded man back with him. The ground was red with blood, the parts not covered with bodies. A single tear slid down through the dirt, blood, and swet as he held firmly to the man's arm around his neck that he helped back into the camp.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

((Sure thing! Sorry I took so long to get back on. one word. Chores. Blah!))

Tindomerel continued stroking Rhayader's hair, smiling slightly at him. "I don't know," whispered the elf, "Don't talk. I'm going to take care of you..."
She looked to the healer that had come over. She watched, trying hard only to look at Rhayader's face and not his bloodstained clothes. Once or twice, she did and a chill of rage to the orcs went up and down her spine.
She was only half aware of Renya speaking to her. "Oh, yes," said Tindomerel, nodding to the healer, "Thank you..."
Nimloth then came trotting in with Tindomerel's pack in her teeth. The elf took the pack, patting the she-wolf on the head. "Good girl."

Tindomerel then pulled out some of the elvish herbs that she had saved. She started tending the wound on Rhayader's stomach. She winced at the sight of his blood, feeling slightly dizzy. Tindomerel had passed out before, but she was now fighting the urge to do so. She shook her head, shaking it off. Rhayader needed her help, she couldn't act like a silly lady.
She used only her own herbs, remembering everything she had learned from Elessar and her father a like. Nimloth sat by Tindomerel, getting nervious glances from the other's in the tent. Lebethron was outside, tied to a post.
Both animald were nervious. they were close to the elf, so whenever she was nervious, they were. They didn't understand fully, but yet they remained nervious. Nimloth whimpering and Lebethron trotting in place.

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The Ever So Confused One

Sig ll Moi

Jax arrived back at the camp, helping the injured man to a spot where the healers could help him.

Jax then walked slowly off tot he far side of the camp and badaged his own leg with a simple bandage. He looked over tha battle field, men and orcs laying dead covering the ground like a wintyer snow of red stains.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

Renya deftly worked to help the elf tear cloth and clean the wounds, pressing upon a few of them to slow the bleeding, though much blood had already been lost.

She instructed an assistant nearby to brew some herbs and the young boy did so, quickly bringing to Tin the steaming water. "Careful, it's hot," he cautioned her, though his voice was quiet, his eyes wide from the sight of the blood, the wounds, and the dying.

"A shame one so young sees such destruction as this," Renya murmured. "I was not much older than he when I was still under instruction of a healer, and I saw much pain in my lifetime, but also learned to find hope and to smile and encourage with cheer, for a smile and a kind word is the best medicine for the sick and wounded," the elderly healer spoke softly, trying to take the elf's mind off the desperate situation at hand, while her own hands worked to clean, herb, and bandage a wound.

----------

Arinae finally came to realize she was sitting alone, the field nearly cleared of the fallen, though still a healer here and there tended to those that remained.

Releasing a long sigh, she stood to her feet, her balance unsteady at first, weariness taking its toll on her, until it was pushed from her mind at the sight of a youth struggling to support a wounded Rohirrim rider, taller in stature than he. Arinae went to the opposite side of the youth and assisted in supporting the weight.

It was then that she felt the dull ache again in her shoulder, but how long it had really plagued her, she could not tell, and refused to let it pull her back from helping the one she now supported.

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

Corus quietly looked at the healers as he snapped back to reality with his wounds bandaged, he then turned back staring up and slightly smiled.

"Thanks to hope that boy doesn`t lay dead among the others.."

He stated quietly.

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

"Aye," responded Renya to Corus. "He was forbidden to fight... we keep watch on our youth and hold them dear, but this one is in training as a healer."

She nodded towards Tin, excusing herself for a moment then moved over to Corus, "How does your shoulder feel, milord? I would suggest a few hours of rest before moving too much..."

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

Corus sat up.

"I am afraid that I cannot do that, I am no longer needed here so I will continue my currently endless journey... until I find what I seek... and please you musn`t call others milord for with that you lower yourself or I for one do not deserve to be spoken like that..."

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Jax thought about going over to help the wounded, but he was not much good at such things in his current state.

Instead he stayed motionless, standing and staring intot eh distance, the sound around drowning out. The shouts of battle, the images of death filling his mind and huanting his soul.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

Aemornion came to the tents but he didnt see Othar anywhere. He shifted his gaze around and suddenly he saw one of the foul men from Dunland peering out at the battlefield from a standing position by the tent. His hand went swiftly towards the sword that he sheathed before when he cleaned it.

At blazing speed, the tip of the glimmering blade was underneath the neck of the man

"Give me one good reason why i shouldnt i kill you where you stand and drag your lifeless corpse to the fire you watch down there?" his eyes war still kindled with rage "Spies never prevail"

he grumbled in a low voice at the man who seemed wounded.

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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.

"I am a healer, here to serve all men, and so it is they are lords and ladys to me" Renya insisted, her aged face working into a gentle smile. "I cannot hold you here, then, if you wish to depart, so then I bid you good fortune, stranger"

"But might I have a name to call you by before you depart, so I will not mistakenly call you a lord again?" she questioned with a jesting glimmer in her eyes.

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

Corus stumbled up.

"Corus is my name... but i doubt you will ever have to say that name outloud after I am gone..."

Corus smirked.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Jax's mind was still in battle, completely unawre of the happenings around him.

Jax twisted backwards, bringing his own sword up to hit the man's sword away from him witha strong blow. Jax spun backwards to come to a defensive stance with his sword pointing at the man.

He looked downt he blade of his sword, the sun glaring off the blood stained blade. His eyes cleared from the images that were in his mind and he saw the man at the end of his sword blade. Sorrow and regret filled his eyes over more than had taken place in teh past year alone.

Slowly his grip failed as his sword fill sideways to the ground, hitting at his feet. A look of surprise and near shock settled on Jax's face as he slowly turned around. He held the dager in his hand that had his brother's name carved in it's handle.

"If you will...." Jax spoke. "Releave me of this life." he said with his back to the man tears running down his cheaks.




(I am not goign to be able to get on tomorow and I have to get off for today so you can just carry this litte scene on however ya want)

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

((Sorry I took so long. I forgot I had this page up. I was typing along, then...oops! I remembered. Again, sorry))

Tindomerel smiled at the healer, nodding to her and the boy. She contiued tending to Rhayader, trying to keep at least a small smile on her face. She gently leaned forward and kissed Rhayader.
She stroked his hair for a moment then went back to working on Rhayader's wounds.

_________________
The Ever So Confused One

Sig ll Moi

Aemornion gazed at the man infront of him with sudden pity while glancing as the blade drops. He looked back at him "I do not wish for death to anyone except when forced to it. But explain yourself what are you doing here...."

But just before Aemornion finished the sentence Othar came up behind Jax and with a swift blow to the neck with the blade hilt he knocked him out cold. "Wretch..." muttered Othar

Aemornion grabbed Jax before he did hit the ground but slight worry was in his eyes as he glanced up at Othar "Somehow I didnt find him all hostile when he dropped the blade idly" he murmured wth slight dissapointment in his voice "but come now, what is done is done, we will lay him down and wait until he wakes up" he sighed "Perhaps some of the people here know more about this... visitor"

Othar nodded but felt somehow akward hearing the dissapointed voice but his love for the captain was stronger and it prevailed in his desire to protect him.

Both of them carried Jax into an abandoned tent.
"Take care of him until he wakes up. Call me when he gets to his senses, i will go look around" and with that Aemornion walked out of the tent.

_________________
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.

"Hmm, we shall see, Corus" Renya replied with a kind smile, assisting him to his feet. "Take care to watch your shoulder then, sir." She added as she turned to crouch beside the elf again.

“You’re doing well, milady,” Renya murmured softly with an encouraging smile. “Just hold to him and be by his side at all times. Even if he isn’t as responsive, he knows you’re there and your presence will help to heal him…”

“If you’ll excuse me, milady, I shall be on my way. There are men still in the fields awaiting assistance,” the elderly healer spoke softly her apologies then turned to take her leave, her satchel of supplies at her side, though a few things were left behind for Tin to use.

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Arinae noticed with a start a glimmer of a blade being unsheathed swiftly. Apologizing, she sat the wounded man down and had the youth rush off to find a healer while she herself turned to view who it was that had made the movement, still waiting by the side of her kin.

It was indeed unmistakably the Gondorian captain, the mighty blade tip held beneath the throat of another, whom she identified as Jax, though she was very much puzzled by this new development, until she realized the second-in-command had been mistaken for the enemy.

She was more alarmed when Jax reacted, setting into play his own sword, though dropping it. Before she could approach, the other whom she had seen earlier, struck down the second-in-command, causing Arinae to pause in her actions with a furrowed brow.

Arinae waited for a moment in the distance, still waiting by the side of the wounded soldier, collecting herself, until a healer finally relieved her and came to tend to him. It was with a forceful and surprisingly strong, even though slender, hand that she pulled the Captain aside when he exited the tent, not thinking twice in regard to her actions.

"Milord," she began with strained calmness, "you must be mistaken in your actions. He is my second in command... and has been through a lot to redeem himself…" She corrected him with a slight scolding tone in her voice, even though she hadn’t meant for it. “You and your comrade had no right to strike him down.”

Her expression firm, Arinae resisted an urge to let loose her anger, which still remained deeply imbedded from the battle, the strain seen only within the depths of her fiery green gaze and the tenseness with which she stood.

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