Enedwaith: Countryside

The winds here sweep across a plain of pale grasses, rolling at every edge with gentle hill and lined with patches and roads pale red earth. Groves of hardwoods rise from the all around, though the wood is young yet...

The dark cool lays upon the grasses, chilling the air. There is a smell of peat moss on the breeze, a musky and earthy scent.

Contents
Annadur
Eithaforn
Obvious exits:
 West leads to Enedwaith coastline.
 Southeast leads to Enedwaith: Beside the Isen.
 Northwest leads to Great Gate of Lond Daer.

The waist-high grasses of the Enedwaith blow gently in the sea breeze that blows from the shore to the west as dusk begins to settle. In the hollow of a rise sit two rangers and one Corsair, the latter trussed up tightly as the former two look at him.

"Damn Southrons," Smokey spits. "Came too far North this time, you did."

The other Ranger glances over to his counterpart out of the corner of his eye, his feet curled casually beneath him. He lifts a bushy brown eyebrow, very slightly, his lips pressed together in a thin line, before looking back over to their prisoner.

Still, Talbinor says nothing. He merely keeps quiet, looking quite placid and content, as though he were on vacation, and not with a dangerous prisoner.

Removing his head from its place in his chest, the Quartermaster looks up at the two men with dagger like eyes. After blinking a few times and shaking his head, as if he believes it all a dream, he then responds in a rusty common, "Ohh I just came here for the view."

Annadur then flexes his muscles against his restraints and continues to moan. "I could sure use something for my head..."

"Oh, could you? Well here, let me put something on it for you," the ranger quips, leaning forward and lashing out with a meaty fist for Annadur's jaw. "How many of you are there?"

Eithaforn attacks Annadur with his Bare Hands and mildly wounds him!

As Eithaforn begins to work over the prisoner, Talbinor grunts and stands up, glancing back just in time to catch the blow connecting. "Often wondered that myself," he murmurs, just loud enough for the prisoner to hear, fiddling with the longsword at his left hip as though it helped him think, his voice somewhat scattered but his gaze rather intent upon the Southron

The Quartermaster's head is then nocked to the side, as the meaty fist makes contact with his face. Continueing to stare at the men, he turns his head and spits, blood mixed in with the saliva. "You know, if you were smart, you would offer me something first. Like my freedom perhaps and then only proceed with the threats and violence once I refused your offers. But then again you don't look very smart. How disappointing." He simply states, with no fear in his voice.

"Who says we intend to offer you anything?" Smokey retorts. "Swine do not merit bargaining with. All you understand is force, like that village you've plundered and all the women you've probably raped. I ask you again, how many of you are there?"

He glances back at his compatriot and then makes to deliver a kick to the Corsair's abdomen.

Eithaforn attacks Annadur with his Bare Hands and mildly wounds him!

"Be rather convenient for you, wouldn't it?" Talbinor adds, looking sidelong at Annadur, twisting his longsword about at his belt. "We're such nice guys, we'll give you hugs and love after you feed us a bunch of false information. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" Despite the irritated and scathing text, Talbinor's voice is just as level as ever.

"I mean, if you want to die that much, I'm sure we could obliged you..." the Ranger's voice trails off slightly, and he shrugs. "Judging by how easy it was to get you, wouldn't be much of a loss."

The large corsair then heaves over, straining once against the ropes, as the kick finds it's target. "Swine is a harsh word, Northern." He weezes. "Ohh a generalist we got here. So because you meet, one dumb brute from Harad, you assume us all brutes?" The restrained man the pauses for a moment, likely thinking and then speaks again "I'm not sure how my memory is at the moment. Which would be, your fault." Annadur then nods at the man. "But I think I remembered Lord Lominakh saying he wanted the villagers unspoiled."

After taking a limited breadth, due to the ropes, he turns his gaze to the other man. "Now I wouldn't feel too obliged to tell you truth, if I knew you were just going to kill me anyway," sighing heavily he then speaks with a hint of sadness, "Now I fear, due to your stupidity, you may have just put the villagers in great danger."

The Ranger rolls his eyes. "Swine is the only appropriate word for pirates," Smokey retorts. "Just remind yourself that the moment one of them dies, you die. While they yet live, you're a bargaining chip," the Ranger says, an icy chill in his voice. "Where are you keeping the villagers?"

Talbinor gives Annadur a bemused little look, chuckling softly. "Did I say that we'd kill sources of -good- information? I must have missed that part. Seems to me that -would- be pretty stupid, yes." His voice betrays a slight hint of amusement, and he shrugs his shoulders very lightly, turning fully towards their prisoner. "Logically, of course, answering questions would ensure your best chance of survival, as well as those slaves or whatever you were going to do with the villagers." He waves his hand vaguely in the appropriate direction. "Suppose you can understand that, can't you?"

Wincing at the mention of the word pirate, the Quartermaster stares again. "Corsair, stupid one, I received my wounds from killing pirates on my way here. Ohh and if I die don't expect to find, you're /villagers/ anywhere except with their head's on pikes." Now taking his concentration off the violent man's face, he examines the tall man, top to bottom. "There are few men of you're height in this world. You must be one of the Dunadan of Gondor." He then spits at the ground infront of the men. "Paleskin." Annadur then chuckles to himself. "On second that, unless you are /really/ that filthy. You couldn't be."

Turning once again to the other filthy man, he speaks, "Ahh so you are the brains of the group." Under his breath, the then mutters, "Or at least you should be." Shaking his head again he takes a moment to regain his thoughts. "Well thats better but you're still pretty unconvincing."

"Corsair, pirate--not much of a difference, really. You both attack and plunder for your livelihood. You take from people who do injury to no one. You really screwed up this time. Now answer the question I asked before I get creative."

At being called 'stupid one', Eithaforn idly offers a kick at Annadur's midsection.

Eithaforn attacks Annadur with his Bare Hands and mildly wounds him!

Talbinor merely lifts his eyebrow, rather bemusedly, but he looks over to Eithaforn. "You hear that?" he asks, sounding quite tickled by the whole thing. "Imagine. Me. The smart one."

He looks back towards the prisoner. "Convincing? I'm not quite sure how much convincing you need. Our rather large friend here," he gestures towards Eithaforn, "beating you up a little bit while you needle him and his exceptionally large sword. We're obviously quite willing to deal with you harshly, and you're surely bright enough to see where that -must- lead. In all honestly, if you're not going to help us out, better to have you dead and telling no tales than alive and reporting your fascinating insights to your superiors."

Leaning slightly in pain, the Quartermaster's face contorts slightly at the second kick."Well I must admit its nice to know that we share a common bond, Paleskin friend. We both treat our prisoners the same." He simply states and then shakes his head again. "Ohh, so now your creative too!" he then smiles but resists the urge to call the larger man the 'stupid one' again due to sore side.

"I'm afraid I don't find anything fascinaiting about you smart one." Sighing once again, he turns back to the taller one. "What did you want to know again?"

Eithaforn spits. "How many of you are there? Where are you keeping the villagers?" he simply asks.

"But your superiors might," Talbinor answers, simply, shrugging his shoulders towards the prisoner, even as Eithaforn goes about his more aggressive negotiations. "I can understand why somebody of your low position might not understand such things, though. Don't worry about it." He waves his hand, rather dismissively.

"Enough," Annadur says to the taller man's inquiry to the numbers. "And as for your second question, use your brain."

"Ooo..that hurts smart one. More than your pansy of a friend's kick." Chuckling to himself, the Quartermaster then continues, "If you really want information from me, you better tell your attack dog to stand down."

"You need to quickly learn something, and learn it quickly," Eithaforn says, an emotionless cold in his voice. "We don't -need- information from you. We merely want it. There is little you can tell us that we cannot learn for ourselves--I merely thought this would save time."

He draws his blade almost idly. "Clearly I was wrong."

Talbinor opens his mouth as though to say something, but the instant he sees Eithaforn's sword come out, he pauses, shrugs, and smiles slightly. "He's not my attack dog. Alas, we are merely coworkers, and I do not have authority over him." He looks over to Eithaforn, pauses again, and shrugs. "Perhaps he's right anyway." Talbinor turns and heads off towards some brush, idly whistling.

"Your common is horrible, Northman. " He then stairs at the man's blade. "It is too straight for my liking but I suppose that still surves its purpose well-enough?"

Looking over, he sighs once again as he watches Talbinor walk into the bushes. "And I was just begining to enjoy his company..."he mumbles to himself.

Turning his gaze back to the man with the sword, he speaks again "Come here I wish to tell you something."

"Tell it from where you lay, pirate," Eithaforn says, not taking his eyes from his blade as he turns it over in his hand. He says it almost absentmindedly.

Talbinor continues to just peer off into the bushes. He's not so far away that he probably can't hear what's going on, but he's trying to affect a look of utter disinterest in what might unfold between the other two.

"If you indeed are going to slay me, which at least, is what you are trying to convince me of. Then you would at least, as a man of honor, answer my last request." The Quartermaster then remains calm, as his vision does not leave the man's face, despite his playing with the blade.

"I haven't decided whether I'm going to slay you or not yet. I'm weighing it now," Eithaforn replies, casting a sidelong look at the Corsair. "But make your request, and consider telling me what I want to know, quickly."

Talbinor is about as conversational as ever.

"Bring your ear to my mouth, for I wish to tell you something that I do not want the smart one to hear," he then states. His eyes are then filled with sadness and a tear can be seen on his cheek.

"You think me stupid? You're probably going to bite me," Eithaforn says, offering a rueful smile. "You're not the first person to try that on me. If you've something to say, say it and I'll listen. 'The smart one'," he says, rolling his eyes with some exasperation at the epithet, "and I do not keep secrets."

Indeed, Talbinor turns down catching Annadur's statement, looking over towards prisoner and Ranger for a moment. His left hand slips down to his longsword, as though hoping to insure against some treachery by the mere threat of violence.

"You've nothing to lose by saying it openly," Talbinor says, and his voice is as open and casual as ever.

Looking once more at the man with the sword and taking a deep breath, he says "I don't know where the prisoners are kept but I know somone who does. What if I can arrange a meeting with him?" The words burning his expression as he clearly does not wish to help the men.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Eithaforn asks, skeptical, perhaps, or merely bemused.

Talbinor lifts and eyebrow, and smiles just slightly, but if he has any more questions than the one Eithaforn asks, he does not express them.

"That is the smartest question you have asked yet, tall man. But the real question is how do you want the meeting?" He says cooly, staring once again at the man, with dagger like eyes.

"How about you answer my question and then I'll consider it. The only way you're getting out of this alive is to tell me what I want," Eithaforn says, comfortable in his position of power.

Still, Talbinor says nothing for a momenth, though he takes to picking up a pace around the two, weaving a rather lazy curve about them. "Is this really the sort of situation you want to be fooling around in verbally?" Talbinor asks the prisoner. "Give us the broad strokes and we'll worry about the finer details when we come to that."

"There are bound to be partols looking for me or for the prisoners. I need only convince them I have freed myself from my captors and that the prisoners are in danger. Then they are sure to tell me." He speaks, twitching slightly.

Eithaforn considers this for but a brief second. "Yes, then you have four or five people to fight us with instead of just yourself," he says, yawning. "I could just as easily take one of the patrols prisoner and interrogate him. "It's a small village--surely you saw where they went. Are they in the village or did you herd them onto your ships?"

"Ohh come now, tall one. You and the smart one can take a few 'dumb pirate brutes' can't you? You have not survived this long with becoming skilled with a blade? Those sound like words of a coward. Eye take me, even I could probably take at least three and there is only one of me! All we need do is wate. Like my father said 'The patient hunter, gets the prey'." His dagger eyes, then turn to one of curiousity as he waits for the tall one's response.

Pausing, Talbinor looks between the prisoner and the Ranger for a moment, his epression as neutral and guarded as ever. However, he does walk towards the other Ranger, tapping him on the shoulder and mumbling something into his ear.

"<Sindarin> We won't be able to fight our way in whether he tells on us or no. This may be a better alternative than simply killing him, particularly if he knows we have him covered with bows as he goes."

The taller Ranger looks to his compatriot, weighing this. "<Sindarin> He is trying to goad me. I can read it on his face--he thinks to secure his freedom in this manner. I'm not so much concerned with fighting our way in as I am with finding out where the villagers are. There are alternatives to a frontal assault."

"Come now feels, speak a language we can all understand or at least answer my question." Annadur then looks at the men's lips, as they move about.

Looking back to the prisoner, Talbinor lifts an eyebrow, very slightly. "You are a prisoner," he says, rather matter-of-factly. "You have no right to be privy to our conversations; in fact, you have no rights of any kind." He nods to Eithaforn and steps back a bit, resuming his former position.

"If you must be so rude.." Annadur then smiles. "<UNITELLIGIBLE SPEECH>" The Quartermaster then chuckles to himself.

More considering, and then Eithaforn shrugs. "You're probably just going to run on us, but seeing as you're really quite useless--it's a poor quartermaster as would navigate his captain -here---then I see no reason as not to try it. Just know that I'll be hidden, and I'll put an arrow in your neck the first time you try anything stupid."

"I guess your right, my woodsmen fellow. It was stupid of us to come here. Believe it or not I had a family once." The sadness that once plagued his eyes then returns but he manages to contain himself. "And I do not like taking family away from each other, no matter how pale they are. I long for home, tall one, the beautiful sands and freshening oisiss, this place is too green..." The Quartermaster then trails off.

"Sands. Sounds lovely," the ranger says in a tone of voice oozing sarcasm. "You do not like it, but if you can make a florin you're fine with it. Filthy pirate."

He looks at the sky. "It's almost dusk. Get some sleep, and we'll do this on the morrow. I'll take the first watch."

Talbinor looks between Eithaforn and the prisoner, and nods. "As you might have noticed when you were so pleasantly brought here," he adds, not pausing in his newly resumed pace, "we are quite good at remaining quiet and unseen." He grins, very slightly, and looks back at Eithaforn as he allows the prisoner to sleep.

Nodding rather smartly at Eithaforn, Talbinor then heads over to a log which, as though he hadn't just finished interrogating a prisoner, he sits down, folds his hands in his lap, and looks forward, as though to have a good think.

"May Ar-Pharazon watch over you, Northmen," he says before moving onto his knees. Bringing his head down to his knees, he closes his eyes and then begins to mutter, something that appears like a prayer though it is lost as the man speaks in Haradic. "<UNITELLIGIBLE SPEECH>."

Eithaforn spits at the mention of that name, muttering something about idiots trying to compensate for something, and begins his watch.