[RP] Feeling like a sucker...

[Felaion]

[Haelewulf will, of cource, know the translations of the elvish words:

-Gwann = Dead (Adjective)
-Orgaladhad = The Day of Two Trees (Elvish phrase for Tuesday)]

[Haelewulf]

Wulf raises an eyebrow, his face pensive.

"If they *HAVE* heard of him, we may be more fortunate than we know. This fellow signs himself "Dying Day of Two Trees"... roughly translated. If he has immersed himself wholly in this, even his identity... then he will keep it inviolate. He will not attempt to slay you until the day dawns."

He suddenly chuckles wryly. "Of course, he could be throwing us off so that we expect no attack until then... but we've already established that he could have slain us back in Chetwood, so I think we can rule that out."

Wulf looks over at Sayvara soberly. "Either way, Sayvara... we have a great deal of trouble on our hands."

[Sayvara]

- You mean apart from the fact we have a war brewing and that this place, along with everything else that is good and beautiful, could be ablaze and plunged into evil darkness within a year from now?

The corner of her mouth curls upwards as her morbid sense of humor makes her smile.

- If I would spend time worrying about everything that could kill me I'd do nothing else in my life Wulf... there'd be no time left for actually living it.

She gathers them close.

Here are the orders for now...

- Wulf, you get yourself into fighting shape as soon as you can. Doctors orders are to be followed.

Her gaze goes between Wulf and Kelli with a smile just to punctuate who will be the doctor.

- Kelli, you are in charge of yer man's health. Not that I need to order you this but just to make it clear. Get some rest so that ya don't accidentally slice someone's arteries open while trying to patch them up. Candil is to relieve ya as emergency field surgeon for the villagers as soon as she can. I want you fresh and sharp when taking care of Wulf.

Turning to the dwarf she puts a hand on his shoulder.

- Master Firebeard... your kin are knowledgable about a great many things, far beyond that of most humans. I want you to start digging around if there is anything you know about this odd Thurday Killer.

- As for myself I'll be heading to the elves as soon as possible. If mister Gwann can keep up with Tiny indefinately, well then he's welcome to take a shot at me for all I care... but I doubt he can hold on for that long so that should buy me some time to gather information. If you have any messages for me, have them sent to the usual drop-off points in both Rivendell and Bree.

- Oh... and inform the Captain where I have gone.

- Let's get this nuisance out of the way and done with. We've got bigger issues to tend to. Questions?

[kellidir]

Kellidir looks at Sayvara, looking somewhat more alert following the arrival of the message, though her face still betrays her tiredness.

"Why would he choose to spare me and Wulf specically ... specif... meh..."

Kellidir yawned and leaned back into Haelewulf.

[Sayvara]

Sayvara shrugs as she puts her jacket on again.

- Maybe the bastard follows some kind of code... what do I know. Just the fact that he announces exactly what day he intends to take down his mark shows he's sticking to some kind of plan that probably makes sense to him.

She tosses Kellidir a key.

- For the Company treasury box. Lirandel has the other... but just keep it until I get back allright?

[Felaion]

"Alrigh' lass, tha' I can do. It may be 'ard... do we know where 'e be from? Tha' cul' narrow it down."

Harain responds to her orders with a brisk salute, and show of attentiveness.

[Sayvara]

- Well actually I have no clue... and in any case it's best to keep an open mind I think. Let's not box our thinking in here since this one clearly is not playing by any rules we are used to.

- Anything else? Wulf, Kelli?

[Felaion]

"Hmmph. Alrigh'. This cul' take some time..." Harain grunts.

"Ye sure ye shul' be 'eadin' out alone?"

[Sayvara]

Sayvara smiles at the corner of her mouth.

- I don't think it matters much at this point. Besides, I don't want to have any of you take the arrow for me if he slips up. Until we know more I want to be able to move as freely as possible... after all: a moving target is harder to hit. Kelli is busy here with Wulf... you, master Firebeard, don't have a horse that can match Tiny's endurance yet... Candil's not here... well, you see the point.

- I'll be heading to Rivendell after some minor preparations. Message any findings there. And make sure you seal the messages.

Sayvara heads for the door, hoisting her pack over her shoulder...

- Oh Beth... about payment... Kelli will...

- Nonsense dear! Since you came here I have rented out almost all my rooms to convalscent guests for a week or more. Business have never been better. It's on the house hun!

Sayvara nods and smiles at her... turning to the Thorns present.

- Don't worry... I'll be fine or I'll be dead... what's to fret about, hm?

[kellidir]

"Fine or dead?"

Kelli glared for a moment at sayvara.

[Felaion]

"Hmmph. As ye wish lassie."

Harain pulls on his beard thoughfully, and remains doing so even after Sayvara leaves.

"She 'as a lot to learn, tha' one. Potential, aye... bu' a lot to learn."

Harain stands, pulling his knapsack onto his shoulders.

"I'll leave ye two alone. Besides, apparently I 'ave to find ou' abou' an assasin usin' only th' name 'es given us. I'm nay thinkin' this will lead to anythin'. An' ye two be carefull... these types like to use 'ostages to get their ends."

Harain marches out of the Inn, his facial expression old and wrinkled.

[kellidir]

Kelli watched as Sayvara left and jerked slightly as the thought hit her ... Sayvara was a target ... and Candil lived with her ... and no-one had seen candil in some time.

"Has anyone thought to try your house Sayv? Candi lives there too!"

[Sayvara]

In the quiet, polite morning bustle of a small town such as Combe, it is hard to avoid seeing the gondorian woman leaving the Inn and heading for the stable. Even harder to fail to notice is her animal companion, affectionately named "Tiny". With a thunderous gallop they set out towards Bree.

Half an hour after arriving at the busy town a sharp whistle along with a shout of promise of quick silver to be earned is heard in the back alleys. In a flash, kids from all over the block flock on her. The instructions are simple: ten silver each delivery to a mailbox that hasn't been used by someone else. The money is passed out along with a dozen handscribbled letters and the kids scatter just as fast as they got there.

A few minutes later the grand animal and his rider are storming out the south gate of Bree on a path directly for the Forsaken Inn and whatever is beyond.

[Felaion]

The presence of a stout, gloomy looking Dwarf in Bree-Town hall is a strange one. Stranger still to see such a Dwarf reading, as Dwarves write on parchment very little. They are proud to remember everything of their history, everything they need to know stored inside their heads.

Harain however, pays no heed to the odd glances he was getting. He had payed little heed when he'd asked if they knew the name of Gwann-Orgladhad, and got nothing but smirks in return. Bloody race of men... never understand... yet it is on their shoulders that the fate of Middle-Earth rests.

Tuesday, Tuesday... why that day? What had happened on Tuesday? How did it all connect? What did it mean? Harain scratched his neck as these throughts flitted through his mind. Not because he was tired... not bacause he itched... but because he felt like he was being watched...

Somwhere, a dark shadow moved.

Suddenly, Harain found himself on to somthing. It took him by supprise, for he had expected to find nothing... nothing at all. Knowing that it would be fruitless to search through lists of criminals in Bree, or old pointless parchments, Harain had chosen to search the log books. He searched under just one day... and had found nothing, until he opened a log book that dated several months ago. Simply by chance, he discovered the account of a Company of Bree-Land guards, watching the road far to the south. Late one night, late one Tuesday, they had come under attack from an unknown force. All save one had been killed... murdered. The attacker was alone, they knew this much. Of the survivor, he requested only one thing. A scrap of parchment was thrust into the guard's face, and the attacker did not speak. The parchement had been torn from a report. The guard failed to notice many of the words... the attacked had requested the guard direct him to the person who bore the name of the report. Sayvara Allen of Gondor.

Though this caught Harain's eye, it was the final wording in the report that really excited him. The guard had noticed the origin of the report.

Minas Tirith.

[Haelewulf]

Haelewulf sat alone, Kelli attending to the hordes of sick and wounded that had descended on the inn. His sword lay across his lap, though he had no intention of wielding it this day.

Tuesday. There had been little point in telling Sayvara of the nearness of her possible demise... their mysterious assailant had already proven himself more than capable of overcoming them, even as a group, so a warning would do little to improve her chances of survival, and would merely eat away at her.

Perhaps she has a right to know... mused Wulf to himself.

No, he decided, shaking his head. As before, when Gwann had tailed them into the Misty Mountains... there was little that could be done, and so there was little to be gained from adding to Sayvara's burden.

Better to heal and prepare, and pray the Elves can shed some light upon this fellow... or she was doomed.

Wulf swept the blade from his lap, holding it steadily out at arm's length. A slight twinge from his wound reminded him that he was not healed yet... but soon. Soon, perhaps, he would test his mettle against a foe beyond any he had faced.

A worthy adversary... or the doom of the Company? Only time will tell...

Haelewulf sheathed the blade again and eased himself to his feet, and spoke aloud to himself.

"I think it's time I spoke with my father again."