Post by Wren on Nov 15, 2003 23:18:24 GMT -5
Wren was a ranger almost from birth. Her father, also a ranger, used to take her with him on walks through the woods from the time she learned to walk, until she had learned all that he could teach her. Then she struck out on her own. She loved exploring the length and breadth of Arda.
Wren came from a large family; her father married a woman who was a bard. Wren’s mother always said that it was her music that caused him to propose. But actually it was everything about her. She was a lovely woman, both in physical appearance and in spirit as well. She was kind hearted, and quick witted. The two of them were never bored with each other, and Wren had never seen a more perfect couple than her two parents. They have her five brothers that she loved dearly, and they all doted on their little sister. But in spite of all the love and attention, she was not at all spoiled.
Wren was a loner by choice; she often traveled with only her spirited stallion, Morwinyon as her sole companion. She just didn’t like people in general, as she found that crowds were often led astray, and even more often acted without thinking. She did like individual persons for she had many friends who were also rangers, and they often met in passing, or would help each other out on important missions. She had also earned the respect of certain elves in both Mirkwood and Lothlorien. She had a special fondness for the wild places in Mirkwood.
Today Wren and Morwinyon, her buckskin colored stallion found themselves traveling through the southern land of Harad. They had gotten a little off course during a storm. Coming into the city for some supplies, Wren tried to disguise herself as best she could. She drew her hood low over her forehead, and drew her long, grey cloak tightly around her body. She found a market, and was haggling with the farmer for a lower price on his vegetables when she noticed a commotion in the middle of the street. She broke off her bargaining for a closer look. Pushing her way through the crowd, she found the source of everyone’s entertainment.
It was a man; she couldn’t tell if he was young or old. He was dressed in rags, and was extremely thin. He had a long scraggly beard that was full of dirt, and other things. For as thin as he was he was quite tall. He was bruised and battered because the people crowded around him were throwing stones. They were trying to kill him. Never one to allow an innocent to be harmed if she could prevent it, the ranger woman placed herself in front of the man being stoned. A rock bounced off her shoulder. Unflinching, she took her bow from her back, and calmly notched an arrow. She pointed it at the nearest rock holder.
“The next one who lets fly a stone, will receive my arrow in his gullet.” She watched with a stern look on her face as the stones were released from angry hands, and the crowd began to disperse. It seemed as though no one was willing to chance her arrows. One angry man, came forward to complain. “This man was sentenced to death. He is a trouble maker, and an outsider. He broke several of our laws, and it is within our rights to stone him to death.”
The ranger replied, “That may be true, but would it please your sense of justice if I simply took him away with me out of your city.” The man grumbled and scratched his head, thinking about his options. Then he answered her with a heavy sigh, “Just take him away. We will be glad to be rid of him.” Then the man turned and wandered away.
Wren hurried over to the man. “Come we need to get you out of here. I have a horse, can you make it? It’s only a little ways.” The man nodded and tried to stumble after her, but couldn’t quite make it. She put an arm around his waist, and he clung to her shoulder leaning on her for support. She wondered if she had done this man a service in saving his life. It looked as though the slightest breeze could send him flying.
As they made their way to the hitching post where she had tied the stallion, the man mumbled his thanks. She boosted him onto her horse, and then mounted in front of him. She ordered him to hang on, thinking briefly about tying him to the saddle, as she wondered if he had the strength to hold himself in place. But the grip around her waist seemed firm, and she headed north out of the little city at a gallop, before the citizens could change their minds about letting the man go. When they had put some distance between themselves and Harad, she slowed the horse, and called over her shoulder, “Do you need to stop and rest. The man replied weakly, “I’m fine, don’t stop on my account. They rode until they came to a small wood, and as they came to a small, but swiftly flowing creek, the man slid to the ground exhausted.
“Just rest”, the ranger woman told him, I’ll make us a fire, and see if I can’t find us something to eat. She quickly gathered some sticks and dead wood for a small fire, and soon the flames were dancing merrily, cheering the clearing by the stream. The sun was just setting, but the ranger still had enough light to hunt for some dinner. Unfortunately she never got to make her purchases from the vegetable farmer. She shrugged, and thought to herself, “it’s too bad really; I was gaining the upper hand on him. I could have purchased quite enough for a vegetable stew.”
The man seemed to be all ready asleep, and never answered her as she readied her bow, arrow, and began following a game trail. She found a small doe, but it had a faun with her. Wren didn’t have the heart to shoot the mother deer, so she kept looking. She found a nest with some eggs in it. She gathered these into her satchel, and added some mushrooms. Then she headed back to see how the man was doing.
The man was moaning quietly in his sleep, which seemed troubled by dreams. Leaving him alone, Wren set about fixing her mushroom and egg omelet. She added a few more sticks to the fire, and took her pan from the saddle bag. With her dagger she deftly sliced the mushrooms into the pan, and added the eggs. Soon it was begging to smell appetizing. She removed it from the flames, and set the pan with the now cooked eggs onto a flat rock, and moved closer to the sleeping man. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. He awoke at once, his eyes wild. He noticed the ranger crouching above him with a concerned look on her face. She was speaking to him. “I have fixed us some dinner; you look like you could use some food. How long has it been since you have eaten?
The man calmed slightly when he realized he was in no immediate danger, and with a somewhat hoarse voice, he croaked out, “It has been awhile since I have eaten. Thank you for standing up to that crowd for me. They would have surely killed me.” He groaned as he tried to stand up, and would have fallen had not the ranger been there to steady him. With a hand at his elbow, she helped him closer to the fire, and dished him up a plate of eggs and mushrooms.
Then she dished up a plate for herself and sat across from the tall, gaunt man. While they ate, she attempted to draw him out in conversation. “What did you do to anger the crowd. I am somewhat familiar with crowds of that nature especially here in the south. For all I know you could have been accused of insulting a man’s wife, when you merely asked her directions. These people are naturally suspicious of newcomers, and often will invent charges just to be rid of them.”
The man nodded his agreement with her assessment of the situation. “At a fried pie stand, I offered to do some work in trade for some food. Before I knew it the merchant was calling for help, and accusing me of being a thief. They dragged me out to the center of the street, where you found me. I could not have lasted much longer.”
“When you finish eating let me look at your injuries, I may be able to help. I possess some small knowledge of healing. What name shall I call you?”
The man nodded again that he would allow her to examine him. “You may call me Longshadow for now. It is a name I often use.”
“Longshadow it is then.” She replied. “I am glad to have made your acquaintance, though I do regret the circumstances.” She gathered their plates and quickly washed them in the stream. She refilled her water skin, and offered Longshadow a drink. Then she bad him remove his cloak and tunic so she examine the worst of his injuries. His back and chest were covered in large bruises. But it didn’t appear as though he had any broken bones or lacerations. She applied a soothing ointment, and smiled when the man sighed with relief at her gentle touch.
His smile felt strange on his face, as he thanked the ranger. It had a long time, since he had cause to smile. He asked to borrow her dagger, and when she assented, he attempted to saw off some of his straggly beard, and tangled hair, but his efforts were futile, as his muscles were so week from ill treatment, and near starvation.
Wren intervened by saying, “Allow me to help you. But forgive my lack of skill. My own hair, I simply let grow, and keep it tied back in a simple braid.” He gratefully handed her the knife, and soon his beard was neatly trimmed, the tangles from his hair were sawed off, and she tied the rest back with a leather thong.
Wren came from a large family; her father married a woman who was a bard. Wren’s mother always said that it was her music that caused him to propose. But actually it was everything about her. She was a lovely woman, both in physical appearance and in spirit as well. She was kind hearted, and quick witted. The two of them were never bored with each other, and Wren had never seen a more perfect couple than her two parents. They have her five brothers that she loved dearly, and they all doted on their little sister. But in spite of all the love and attention, she was not at all spoiled.
Wren was a loner by choice; she often traveled with only her spirited stallion, Morwinyon as her sole companion. She just didn’t like people in general, as she found that crowds were often led astray, and even more often acted without thinking. She did like individual persons for she had many friends who were also rangers, and they often met in passing, or would help each other out on important missions. She had also earned the respect of certain elves in both Mirkwood and Lothlorien. She had a special fondness for the wild places in Mirkwood.
Today Wren and Morwinyon, her buckskin colored stallion found themselves traveling through the southern land of Harad. They had gotten a little off course during a storm. Coming into the city for some supplies, Wren tried to disguise herself as best she could. She drew her hood low over her forehead, and drew her long, grey cloak tightly around her body. She found a market, and was haggling with the farmer for a lower price on his vegetables when she noticed a commotion in the middle of the street. She broke off her bargaining for a closer look. Pushing her way through the crowd, she found the source of everyone’s entertainment.
It was a man; she couldn’t tell if he was young or old. He was dressed in rags, and was extremely thin. He had a long scraggly beard that was full of dirt, and other things. For as thin as he was he was quite tall. He was bruised and battered because the people crowded around him were throwing stones. They were trying to kill him. Never one to allow an innocent to be harmed if she could prevent it, the ranger woman placed herself in front of the man being stoned. A rock bounced off her shoulder. Unflinching, she took her bow from her back, and calmly notched an arrow. She pointed it at the nearest rock holder.
“The next one who lets fly a stone, will receive my arrow in his gullet.” She watched with a stern look on her face as the stones were released from angry hands, and the crowd began to disperse. It seemed as though no one was willing to chance her arrows. One angry man, came forward to complain. “This man was sentenced to death. He is a trouble maker, and an outsider. He broke several of our laws, and it is within our rights to stone him to death.”
The ranger replied, “That may be true, but would it please your sense of justice if I simply took him away with me out of your city.” The man grumbled and scratched his head, thinking about his options. Then he answered her with a heavy sigh, “Just take him away. We will be glad to be rid of him.” Then the man turned and wandered away.
Wren hurried over to the man. “Come we need to get you out of here. I have a horse, can you make it? It’s only a little ways.” The man nodded and tried to stumble after her, but couldn’t quite make it. She put an arm around his waist, and he clung to her shoulder leaning on her for support. She wondered if she had done this man a service in saving his life. It looked as though the slightest breeze could send him flying.
As they made their way to the hitching post where she had tied the stallion, the man mumbled his thanks. She boosted him onto her horse, and then mounted in front of him. She ordered him to hang on, thinking briefly about tying him to the saddle, as she wondered if he had the strength to hold himself in place. But the grip around her waist seemed firm, and she headed north out of the little city at a gallop, before the citizens could change their minds about letting the man go. When they had put some distance between themselves and Harad, she slowed the horse, and called over her shoulder, “Do you need to stop and rest. The man replied weakly, “I’m fine, don’t stop on my account. They rode until they came to a small wood, and as they came to a small, but swiftly flowing creek, the man slid to the ground exhausted.
“Just rest”, the ranger woman told him, I’ll make us a fire, and see if I can’t find us something to eat. She quickly gathered some sticks and dead wood for a small fire, and soon the flames were dancing merrily, cheering the clearing by the stream. The sun was just setting, but the ranger still had enough light to hunt for some dinner. Unfortunately she never got to make her purchases from the vegetable farmer. She shrugged, and thought to herself, “it’s too bad really; I was gaining the upper hand on him. I could have purchased quite enough for a vegetable stew.”
The man seemed to be all ready asleep, and never answered her as she readied her bow, arrow, and began following a game trail. She found a small doe, but it had a faun with her. Wren didn’t have the heart to shoot the mother deer, so she kept looking. She found a nest with some eggs in it. She gathered these into her satchel, and added some mushrooms. Then she headed back to see how the man was doing.
The man was moaning quietly in his sleep, which seemed troubled by dreams. Leaving him alone, Wren set about fixing her mushroom and egg omelet. She added a few more sticks to the fire, and took her pan from the saddle bag. With her dagger she deftly sliced the mushrooms into the pan, and added the eggs. Soon it was begging to smell appetizing. She removed it from the flames, and set the pan with the now cooked eggs onto a flat rock, and moved closer to the sleeping man. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. He awoke at once, his eyes wild. He noticed the ranger crouching above him with a concerned look on her face. She was speaking to him. “I have fixed us some dinner; you look like you could use some food. How long has it been since you have eaten?
The man calmed slightly when he realized he was in no immediate danger, and with a somewhat hoarse voice, he croaked out, “It has been awhile since I have eaten. Thank you for standing up to that crowd for me. They would have surely killed me.” He groaned as he tried to stand up, and would have fallen had not the ranger been there to steady him. With a hand at his elbow, she helped him closer to the fire, and dished him up a plate of eggs and mushrooms.
Then she dished up a plate for herself and sat across from the tall, gaunt man. While they ate, she attempted to draw him out in conversation. “What did you do to anger the crowd. I am somewhat familiar with crowds of that nature especially here in the south. For all I know you could have been accused of insulting a man’s wife, when you merely asked her directions. These people are naturally suspicious of newcomers, and often will invent charges just to be rid of them.”
The man nodded his agreement with her assessment of the situation. “At a fried pie stand, I offered to do some work in trade for some food. Before I knew it the merchant was calling for help, and accusing me of being a thief. They dragged me out to the center of the street, where you found me. I could not have lasted much longer.”
“When you finish eating let me look at your injuries, I may be able to help. I possess some small knowledge of healing. What name shall I call you?”
The man nodded again that he would allow her to examine him. “You may call me Longshadow for now. It is a name I often use.”
“Longshadow it is then.” She replied. “I am glad to have made your acquaintance, though I do regret the circumstances.” She gathered their plates and quickly washed them in the stream. She refilled her water skin, and offered Longshadow a drink. Then she bad him remove his cloak and tunic so she examine the worst of his injuries. His back and chest were covered in large bruises. But it didn’t appear as though he had any broken bones or lacerations. She applied a soothing ointment, and smiled when the man sighed with relief at her gentle touch.
His smile felt strange on his face, as he thanked the ranger. It had a long time, since he had cause to smile. He asked to borrow her dagger, and when she assented, he attempted to saw off some of his straggly beard, and tangled hair, but his efforts were futile, as his muscles were so week from ill treatment, and near starvation.
Wren intervened by saying, “Allow me to help you. But forgive my lack of skill. My own hair, I simply let grow, and keep it tied back in a simple braid.” He gratefully handed her the knife, and soon his beard was neatly trimmed, the tangles from his hair were sawed off, and she tied the rest back with a leather thong.