Year 2949: Kinstrife and Dark Tidings

[Vladim]

[Inside Ethal's dwelling.]

’Very well,’ said Idunn, ’then, let us go see the father, as you say.’ The words were spoken coldly, with disdain almost, and the huntress could barely hide her frustration. She clenched her fists and cast an angry glance at her companion, for daring to even suggest that this Oderic was the real victim here. But she controlled herself: she did not wish to have an outburst here, not in the presence of Ethal, who was visibly shaken.

Stepping outside was as good an excuse as any to seek whatever privacy this village could afford.

 

---

 

[After leaving Ethal's dwelling.]

By the time they had left, Idunn’s temper had subsided somewhat, for she knew that her companion meant well, and that there was little to be gained from quarrelling amongst themselves. Besides, she did not wish to appear weak: she wanted to prove that she could control her wrath. Thus she set it aside for now, saving it for those who were guilty of all these crimes and evil, whoever they were. When the time was right, she told herself, it would be the means by which justice would be done for the death of her cousin.

As the three of them made their way to the father’s homestead, Idunn spoke her piece, tempering her anger with wit when it would serve her. ’Regardless of what you say,’ she begun, ’the boy could have given himself up. He left the Thanes to the carrion-crows, and chose to flee rather than stay and fight by the side of his kinsmen when the orcs attacked. This alone speaks ill of his character, even if he is not truly the killer. Unless we solve this riddle, we cannot tell.

But I am sworn to find him and bring him back to Beorn. And should he draw breath yet when I do, then I promise to you to give him a fair hearing and to let him speak for himself. But if he proves the murderer, then I *cannot*guarantee his safety. I shall not let the death of Merovech go unavenged.’

She thought of Cenric’s fate, and how the Bear-Lord spared the life of a proven and unrepentant killer. If Oderic was the kinslayer, exile would be too good for him. Death was the only just punishment, and if Beorn would not do it, then Oderic would die – even if it were by her own hand.

[OOC:A bit of character exposition to give you guys her mindframe, but I am also ready to move on to the father’s house when @Diofant is ready. Just let me know if I need to roll anything!]

[Vladim]

Fundor thanks the fishermen for their answers. Oderic was one of the few men able to unty the rope and a boat is missing : that's enough for Fundor to believe he has found the man escape way. Now it's time to go back to the main village square, trying to find his companions. When he finds them, he tells them of his finding.

[Vladim]

Annungil's eyes were thoughtful, but something within seemed to shine at the thought of dangers pressing down upon them from all directions. "Aye, let us hope that our swords will be sharp enough for when the Shadow decides to stretch out its hand, wherever and whatever secrets it may hold. One sword is enough to prick even the greatest of hands."

He nodded Dahr-Ol spoke. "Indeed, let us speak to Brynhild. You hail from this village, do you not? Lead the way, for I know not where to find what it is that we speak."

Annungil would wait to follow his companion to the graveyard to see if Brynhild was there, with his hands held lightly on his empty sword-belt.

[Vladim]

Dahr-Ol nodded at his companion's strong words. He knew Annungil well enough to know the Southerner meant every word of it.

Dahr-Ol led them through the small village to a grove of trees. Passing through the grove and technically outside the village boundaries they entered a small dale with a collection of simple stone cairns. The cairns varied in size, some being a few large rocks; others were mounds almost 3 feet high. A few had flowers placed by the stones. He did not see Brynhild immediately, and called for her after a moment.

"Brynhild, it is Dahr-Ol! I have come to pay my respects!"

[Vladim]

Gramtyng mere shook his head as Idunn walked away, shutting his eyes for a moment: it was hard to see his normally thoughtful friend like this. You seek more vengeance? But your cousin has already been avenged. You've slaughtered the goblins that did it yourself, and brought back their heads... Is this not enough? He stared at the huntress' retreating back and resolved himself. If there comes a time when your desire for vengeance will make you murderer and oathbreaker, then I will be the one to stop your strike. May that dark day never come, even should the Shadow of the Mountain consume me...

Old Helmgut wasnt the most welcoming host. It could be said he wasnt much of a host at all, as he'd currently been sprawled out on the floor, back to a cabinet, two axes at his side - one large, the other small, wine cask in hand. He gave a dark glare to Idunn and Gramtyng as they'd entered, took another loud gulp of the alcohol - it could easily be smelled all the way from the doorway, suggesting the man had began drinking a long while ago, perhaps more than a day. "Whatdya want?" Helmgut pointed the axe at them with a shaking hand; less as a threat, given his state, and more of an indication.

There was no answer to Dahr-Ol's call, but as he and Annungil walked forward, they'd spotted the woman easily enough. A young, brown-haired woman in dark green gown with long sleeves raises her head slowly to look at the Beorning and his companion. There are traces of grey at her temples, and her face appears older than she truly is - the events must be weighing on her heavily. "What do you wish of me, son of Throl?" Her voice was icy cold, and she did not keep her gaze on Darh-Ol, instead turning back to the fresh grave, continuing to adorn it with flowers. There had been traces of old candles on it, suggesting she'd left them there at night, as custom dictated. Brynhild's head was covered in a large scarf-like cloth she wound around her neck - likely a sign of her grief.

[Vladim]

Dahr-Ol gazed upon the woman and his heart was moved with pity. They had not been close friends growing up. Dahr-ol's Hillman heritage had made the folk of Stonyford stand-offish until his father's sacrifice had earned their status. But he remembered a Brynhild who had been as fierce in the face of calamity as Rathfic had been brave in battle. This was not that woman.

"Brynhild, I bear two gifts. I ask only that you talk with me afterwards. Rathfic deserves a cairn to rival any of the village elders his grandfather. You should not have to be the one to build it. Annungil, a stalwart warrior in his own right and I will build it. The other gift is my respect for you and your family, I know the gossips are wagging their tongues as if they were on fire. I know you have done nothing shameful. After Annungil and I complete the cairn Rathfic deserves, I would like to speak about your brother.

Annungil, do you see the large cairn over there? By the far edge of the grove? We must build it a rival, there is plenty of large fieldstone along the hillside."

[Vladim]

Annungil followed slowly behind Dahr-Ol, eyes sifting through the cairns that marked the village graveyard. He could see no sign of the woman they sought until she revealed herself. His steps traced to an end as Dahr-Ol spoke and a faint, sad smile flickered across his face, before turning briefly into a frown as Dahr-Ol spoke, and he slipped aside to kneel beside the fresh grave.

"I grieve for your loss and your pain," Annungil said softly. "No word spoken since the earliest days can ease your grief, so I shall not try." He settled on his knees and gazed at the fresh grave, remembering earlier days along the marches that lay between Gondor and Mordor, with fresh graves that he had helped dig.

The sound of the river was faint in the distance, but Annungil could barely hear it. Dirt stained his hands and blisters rose from his palms that still clutched the handle of the shovel. Numbness and exhaustion settled across his features. Night was falling in the west and the shadows grew long ahead of him.

The jingle of chainmail drew his attention and he turned, barely summoning the energy to speak, but his sergeant held up a hand for silence and simply stood beside him. No words were exchanged, but the presence was comforting, to not be alone in this moment. It was the quiet presence of someone else that reminded him he was not alone and that he was part of something greater, something with meaning, and he could rely on the people around him.

"If you permit me, I shall sit vigil with you, for it is grim business to stand vigil alone. It is when the shadow of our doom lays the most heavily upon us and the Shadow seeks to overwhelm us with despair. In that battle, you will not fight alone." He gave a weary smile and turned to gaze upon the cairn.

[Vladim]

Idunn did not begrudge Helmgut for being deep in his cups - it was a common way to deal with grief, even if that was not her own. Yet drunk or not, the old man might be able to help.

'I am Idunn of Firienseld, and these are my companions, Gramtyng of Rohan, and Belgo of Esgaroth. We have travelled here from Beorn's homestead with great urgency: the Bear-Lord himself has tasked us with finding your foster-son, Oderic. For he has escaped Thane Merovech's custody, thanks to an orc-attack that left both the Thane and his battle-brother Odo dead.'

Thus she begun recounting all that she knew, from their fateful discovery on the shores of the Anduin to their meeting with Beorn, and all that she had learned along the journey, from Geral and the trail Oderic had left. They were grim tidings, but she believed that the old man had the right to hear them.

At length she finished her recounting, and asked of the old man: 'Know you know everything, and I must ask, what do you think of it all? Have you seen Oderic since he was taken? Why would he travel this way now that he is a fugitive? Your kinswoman, Ethal, claims he is incapable of murder, but you know him better than anyone else in this village.'

[Vladim]

Coming back from the pontoon, Fundor reaches the village center and tries to find his companions.He hears Idunn and joins her.

[Vladim]

His curiosity satiated, Nori gathred Hunir, helping the bird back to his perch on his backpack, and then made his wade quietly from the dwelling - careful not to disturb the environment any more than he had when he entered. Making his way through the village, he went in search of his companions, the group having split. Given that Dahr-Ol and Annungil had made their way to the edge of the village, it was the light and discussion coming from Helmgut's home that drew Nori to join Idunn, Gramtyng, and his cousin, Fundor. Cautiously and quietly - yet not afraid - the dwarf craftsman made his way to the threshold of Helmgut's hut and waited on the outside, looking in. Perhaps it was mere courtesy to wait as he had not been invited in or, more likely, the dwarf did not want the man feeling as though he was being ganged up on more than he was already. Whatever the case, Nori leaned up against the frame of the home and looked inward, studying Helmgut as he was "confronted" by the capable Woodswoman and Rohirrim.

[Vladim]

Brynhild shut her eyes for a moment, her lips pressing into a line as Dahr-Ol offered to construct a cairn that Rathfic deserved, and something flared in her eyes that showed she hadn't become completely numb and cold to everything... But it passed quickly. "The cairn that I and father built him will suffice, thank you, Dahr-Ol. I have no doubt you could construct a tomb befitting of a king, but it will not fit my late husband." She turned to Annungil with a dark gaze and listened to his words, some of her facial features relaxing until she sighed and turned back to the grave, continuing to arrange the flowers on it carefully. "I thank you for your understanding, friend of Dahr-Ol. Silence is sometimes the best medicine... But the vigil is mine alone. There is... Much I must think on." She paused for a moment and looked up at the pair: "I suppose you've come looking to ask me questions about the incident, then? Ask. Lets not stretch this out."

 

---

 

Old Helmgut gave Idunn a glare and another swig of the wine flask, feeling around for his other axe. Gulping down the wine with the appearence of a man who hadnt had anything to drink for a week, Helmgut relaxed slightly when he'd heard the Huntress' explaination, but then picked up the axe again and spewed a barely recognizable string of curses some of which were in the common tongue, but difficult to understand given the slurred way he pronounced them. "Dunt crr. Herr me? I dungivadam!" He managed to squeeze out, feeling around for another wineskin. "Nu mah pr'blm, no mah fault..." At this point, Gramtyng cleared his throat and also stepped forward. This whole thing had been painful to watch, for him: his best friend, who burned with a desire for revenge that was already done, and the father of the man who'd become unwilling witness to the killing of his friend's cousin. He was certain that Idunn would never overstep her boundaries when trying to get information out of this man - but the man was unstable, drunk and armed with an axe, even if he likely couldnt stand up. "Helmgut. My friend Idunn speaks the truth. I simply want to add, that the slain thane was her cousin... she, too, is going through grief. He was my friend, and I knew Odo as well." He knelt down beside the old man and looked at him with a great deal of pity; he couldnt even imagine how much misery he'd felt. "You know that Oderic is accused of murder... And we're tasked with finding him. But you have to understand, this accidental escape isnt doing his case any favors. And then..." He glanced at Idunn thankfully for mentioning Ethal's words: "...There are a lot of people we've met who dont believe he's the sort to be a killer. You are his father." He dropped 'foster'. "You knew him best. Help us help him. Its just my gut, but there seems to be more here than appears."

Helmgut paused, the alcohol dripping from the wineskin, bared his teeth in a growl at Gramtyng and then... began to cry. "I failed 'im... Failed my boy." The axe clattered to the ground as the warrior tried to get to his feet, but could not muster the strength. Finally, he stretched out his hand towards a bucket of water - likely used to put out the fireplace - near him and proceeded to empty it over his head. Coughing and wheezing, Helmhut now looked an even more piteous sight and before, using his hands to try to dry his face a bit. When he was done, he leaned heavily on his axe, and managed to get to his feet - enough that he made it to the chair. "You're right." His voice was no longer slurred - he wasnt entirely sober, but he looked better than before. "Truth... Truth is needed. I owe my son at least that." After another coughing fit, Helmgut continued: "Heard Bryn scream. Ran to see what was wrong. Oderic he... he'd been standin' over Rathfic. Rathfic had a bloody wound in his chest. He was dead... Dagger hit somethin' important. Oderic had a bloody knife in his hand... So I struck it from his hands." At this point, the large man shuddered, again beginning to sob: "I seen it... Seen the look on 'is face. Betrayal and anger... Everythin' I try, I fail. Couln't raise my boy right. Couldn't stand at his side when he'd been condemned - was the first to condemn him! Bryn, she... I tried so hard to get a good life for her, find 'er a man to take care of her... He's dead too, now. An' now my daughter wont talk to me? What bloody reason 'ave I gotta live for?" He continues, facedown on the table, so he is barely hearable; using the moment, Gramtyng sent Belgo out from the room: this sight and conversation didnt fit a child, even if he was a squire. "...'E was my best friend's son. Practically my brother - I owed 'im everythin'. I had ta take his boy when he asked. Raised 'im as best I could, like my own, with little Bryn... I wasn' good enough. Never was. Even so..." The old man wiped his tears, looking up at the pair, and the new arrivals: "Iffen you got questions... I'll talk."

[Vladim]

Idunn listened patiently, and after Helmgut had poured water all over his face, she removed her green cloak and offered it to the man, so that he could dry himself properly. Then, not speaking a word, she knelt by the fireplace, and set herself to lighting some wood, so that the man would remain warm. When the flames had sprouted, she produced a small tin kettle from her travelling gear, worn from much use, and boiled a herb-tea that she carried with her.

’Drink this.’ she said in a commanding voice. There was kindness in it as well, yet it was plain enough that she would not take no for an answer. ’This tea was made by Radagast the Brown Wizard, who dwells in Rhosgobel with my Woodmen kindred, and it is said to restore strength and relieve from all weariness.’

As Helmgut sipped the tea by the fire, the huntress continued. ’There is not much that can be done now,’ she said gruffly, ’we cannot bring back the Thanes or your son-in-law. Yet there is still, perhaps, some hope for Oderic, if he is truly no murderer.’ She poured some tea for Gramtyng and herself and continued. ’Perhaps the killing here was an accident; this I am willing to consider. Tell me, what reason would Oderic have to slay Rathfic? Did the two quarrel, or despise each other?’

[Vladim]

Seing that Idunn and Gramtyng are in a very delicate talk with Oderic's father, Fundor prefers not to enter the room and stay outside, by remaining silent. Not long later he's by Nori. In a very low voice, he tells him what he has found at the pontoon (the boat that disappeared).

[Vladim]

The old man sighed, looked mournfully into the cup he was offered, and drank it down without complaint, finishing it quickly and grimacing slightly. Drinking hot tea like that cant have been a good feeling - but by the looks of things, the last thing Old Helmgut was after right now were pleasant feelings. "I thank ye." He replied finally. "For havin' the patience ta listen ta me even after I..." He shook his head and shut his eyes. "Pathetic." He spoke again, opening his eyes with visible difficulty. "Broke me own oath to my little girl 'bout the drink, had ta be helped by folk outside Stoneyford... I really 'ave gotten weak... and stupid." He turned his head to the huntress, the silent rohirrim, and the pair of dwarves, looking at them with an evaluating gaze for a moment. "Oderic was always a quiet boy who loved the wilds more than 'e did people. Great tracker. Was trainin' 'im ta be a proper scout, not a warrior." He finally spoke, with some difficulty. "Death 'o his parents cut him deep, though he'd been a wee lil thing then. Dont even remember them. Its been tough, communicatin' with him back then, but me little Bryn got him to open up, laugh... he'd followed her everywhere, they'd been like real blood siblings. I taught the boy all I knew, all I thought he'd need for life. Tried ta act like how I knew his father would've. An' the moment when he actually called me 'father' tha first time?" Helmgut swept a stray tear from his eye.

"'E werent my blood, but it damn felt like 'e was." The warrior struck the table with his fist, making the cup on it clink, then looked up at his guests. "Rathfic came down from the mountains shortly after we allied with Beorn. 'E was one of the most skilled warriors these old eyes have seen, but the man had no taste for combat. 'stead, he indulged himself in huntin'. Disappeared for days, huntin' alone. He was simple, easy ta understand, and he built himself a good home. Most of all, the man knew to keep his word once given, ev'n iffen he aint been the friendlist 'bout it. Willfred took to him as a rival, but Rathfic jus' scoffed at him. Dunno iffen it was pride or indifference. Oderic... was as close ta a friend he had." Helmgut looked out the window, his voice now sounding guilty and bitter. "Bryn was old enough ta marry. I wanted 'er taken care of, provided for... So I tried me best to prod em towards one another. They married, in the end. Oderic... Oderic was not happy. We had a talk, he an' I, how it wasnt his bloody business whom his sister married, but he shouted at me, saying ah didnt see anythin' and was blind. Didn' ever explain it. Refused to. He hated Rathfic somethin' fierce." The old warrior inclined his head, burying his face in his hands: "Tha' started... mebbe a week? After the weddin' - they got inta a fistfight. Neither would explain anytin', Rathfic jus' called Oderic a drunken fool an' left." Helmgut massaged his face and sat up straight, the look in his eyes distant, as if he'd not been seeing the group anymore, but something beyond them. "Thas' all I know."

[Vladim]

Idunn thought as the old man spoke, and the pieces slowly started to fall into place. Perhaps all of this had something to do with the answer to the riddle of the kinslaying. Perhaps Oderic was over-protective of his sister, and did not want to see her be wed to Rathfic. The widow would likely tell more, and Idunn hoped that her remaining companions fared well with her.

When it was her turn to speak, she did so plainly. She felt that Helmgut could not help them further, but she hoped that something good could come of this, and that the old man would be too embarassed to go back to drinking after they had departed.

'You did the best you could.' she begun, speaking gently. 'Yet perhaps it was not enough. Perhaps others would had done better, but this is not for me to say. Weakness and fear are ever the curse of Men, and we all must struggle with them, one way or another.' she added gruffly, looking at the wine-skin. Those words were unsweetened by a tone, yet they were not harsh, for she felt that this was the plain truth.

'We will get to the bottom of this. But there is one last thing that I would ask of you, and your answer may yet aid us. If we find Oderic alive, and are able to speak to him, what would you have us say from your behalf? Would you have any message for him?' It was her hope that, if this indeed had been a tragic accident, then perhaps Oderic would be moved by the words of his foster-father, whom he had left behind, but it was in equal measure a small kindness she wished to offer to Helmgut for his aid.