Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Monday, Day 21 of September, 3010
Real time is: 18:59:44 MST on Thu Feb 06 1997

Alenaldar crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Alenaldar has arrived.
Alenaldar smiles as she enters, "Mae govannen."

Glendor is busying himslef by shuffling the jars abd boxes around all ffree surfaces. He mutters, "We need more shelves here... Ah, Alenalar! mae Govannen!"
Glendor notices the bandages, "What happened to you?"

Alenaldar chuckles as she walks over to Glendor, "I got into a fight with several orcs the a couple days ago."

Glendor shakes his head sadly, "You, alone? Were there no guards left so we have to send a forester to fight off Yrch?"

Alenaldar shakes her head, smiling rather unhappily, "No, not alone. Tarinalas was also there...they came upon us unexpectedly."

Glendor motions you to the bed with a gesture, "Let me see you... Who did this work? Looks like the hand of Lendalas... You've been taken care of well!"

Alenaldar moves over to the cot and sits down, "Yes, it was Lendalas who tended to me."

Glendor smiles slightly, "Well, he did not leave me alot to do, but I will change some of the bandages to fresh ones, and put new ointments, too"

Alenaldar nods, "Yes, I'm very thankful that I could find Lendalas so quickly after the skirmish."

Kestrae crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Kestrae has arrived.

Glendor searches through the jars on the table, and few more under the table, "Where in the name of Manwe is it? Ah-ha!" He lifts a small jar with thick oily liquid.

Alenaldar wrinkles her nose at the medicine.

Glendor is tending to Alenaldar's wounds. Alenaldar is lying on a low bed, her bandages are half-taken off.

Kestrae steps quietly into the room, her small body covered with dirt, though you can tell shes tried to brush much of it off, only grinding it in more. She pauses near the entrance, watching quietly for now.

Glendor notices the reaction, "Feels alot better than being hurt, I assure you! We only use blue stuff on the guards, no matter what they might tell about us" He grins.

You administer aid to Alenaldar and think that she looks a little better.
>OOC Note> - 9 HP, Woohoo! :)

Alenaldar smiles grimly, "Yes, I suppose it /is/ better than being hurt."

Glendor turns his head at the sound from the entrance, "Ah, Kestrae! I see you have been gardening already? What brought you here? I hope you were not hurt again?"

Kestrae shakes her head as she moves a little closer. "No, I am fine... I was just..." she looks down at her feet. "I hate gardening and hoped.. that I could help?"

Glendor's hands move swiftly as he is reapplying the bandages to Alenaldar's wounds, but he takes a moment to look around, "Well, you could have taken some of those thorns *out* ouf there, and perhaps move them to the garden?" He turns to alenaldar, "And no, you won't have to *drink* this" He applies some more of the medicine to the bandage before laying it over the wound. "Nah, the Lady probably would not approve"

Alenaldar watches Glendor work, relieved that she doesn't have to drink that nasty stuff, "Hmm, what is it anyway?"

Kestrae looks at the thorns, then back at Glendor. "I think the Lady would like that," she mumbles, then adds, "But I can ask her..." She then steps closer, watchin curiously.

Glendor finishes covering the wounds, and winks to Alenaldar, "Are you sure you want to know?"

Alenaldar smiles, "But of course, I may be a forester but I am rather interested in herblore."

Glendor hands Alenaldar the bottle, and opens the cork, "Take a guess!"

Alenaldar takes a whiff and shakes her head, "I have no earthly idea."

Kestrae watches, giggling at this guessing game.

Glendor glances at Kestrae, "May be the gardener knows?"

Kestrae blinks, looking at the bottle. "Can I smell?"

Alenaldar hands Kestrae the bottle, be my guest!

Kestrae takes the bottle, sniffing it carefully, her expression thoughtful.

Kestrae hmmms. "I think it is athelas."
Kestrae nods, pouring a drop on her hand, testing it. "Yes! This is athelas!" She grins, proud of herself."

Glendor smiles broadly, and takes the bottle away from you, "If I didn't know better I'd say you have it growing in your garden!" He grins, "But unfortunately the fertile land of Caras Galanod is not what it likes"

Kestrae grins brightly, looking from patient to healer, proud of herself. "I have been studying," she pipes up.

Glendor smirks, "May be you have though of planting it? Nobody ever done it before, although many tried"

Kestrae stands taller, looking at Glendor as she accepts that challenge. "If I can find some to plant, I will!"

Glendor eyes Kestrae from head to toe, "In this case I will have to find some. At this time of the year, it does not grow well in Lorien, I will have to go to more desolated lands"

Kestrae grins brightly, nodding. "Can I go then?" she asks, moving closer.

Glendor arches his brow, "Go where?"

Alenaldar looks interested, "Hmmm, athelas? And where does it usually grow?"

Kestrae shrugs, stepping to the side to fiddle with the bottles there. "Wherever you get the plants."

Alenaldar smiles, "Well, if it doesn't grow in good earth, I would assume it grows in bad places..."

Glendor glances from Alenaldar to Kestrae and back, "In autumn..." he makes round eyes, "where the Yrch live!"

Glendor adds quietly, "North of Lorien, on the slopes of the Misties"

Alenaldar shivers at the word Yrch.

Kestrae blinks, turning to look outside, then shivers. "Where the yrchs live?!?"

Glendor nods, "Unfortunately, yes. Well, not really *live*, it's still too close to Lorien, but wander freely, I would say"

Alenaldar looks none too happy, "Yrchs seem all to close to Lorien of late."

Kestrae frowns, then sighs. "No, I cannot go then..."

Glendor nods, "I would not send you. But I'll see if a guard or two want to accompany me"

Alenaldar turns to Glendor, rather surprised, "Is there nothing in Lorien that has similar powers?"

Glendor thinks for a few moments, as if going over a list in his mind, "Not exactly, no... Especially in healing poisoned wounds"

Alenaldar seems unconvinced, "Surely in this whole forest there must be something..."

Kestrae looks around, digging in the pile of herbs that have been left on a nearby table.

Glendor glances at the pile, "There might be some, yes. But the plants you find in Lorien at this time are too weak to be re-planted. We don't even use them for healing, the one you smelled was gatehred in Spring."

<OOC Note> At this point, Tarinalas connects, and he's at -2 HP.
ICly he has always been here, so we have to deal with it.

Alenaldar shakes her head unhappily, "So you must travel beyond the borders of Lorien and risk attack from Yrch."

Glendor nods, "Yes, although I can defend myself much better than either of you two. I also hope for an escort"

Kestrae watches Glendor for a moment, frowning. "Can I learn to defend myself?"

Alenaldar laughs, "Any elf could defend themself better than I, I have no real interest in fighting."

Crarmat crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Charmat has arrived.
Charmat gets nosey and starts nosing around, peeking through the curtain next door. Her breath rushes in as she spots the body there.

Glendor looks away from the pile of herbs, "What is it, Charmat? Found something?"

Charmat turns to Glendor with wide eyes, "So much blood.. that poor man, is he dead?"

Glendor drops a bunch of herbs on the table, and rushes toward the curtain, "Blood? Where?"

Kestrae turns around as Glendor rushes over, her eyes widening.

Charmat points at Tarinalas, shiver just slightly.

Glendor almost knocks Charmat over, rushing to the body, "Who is this? Where did he come from?"

Charmat shrugs, moving forward and out of the way, "I just saw him.. how awful, what happened?"

Glendor kneels besides the body, "I didn't even know he was here, much less what happened! And, he definitely did not come himself!"

Charmat moves forward, around the man, and kneels down, glancing up at Glendor, "If I can help.." she cuts off uncomfortably.

Kestrae takes a few careful steps toward Glendor. "Should I get anything, Glendor?"

Glendor is busy examining the body, "Yes, yes, water from the stream."

Charmat doesn't feel comfortable doing anything, so she just watches, watching a drop of blood roll to the ground.

Kestrae nods, running to the other side of the room and grabbing a basin. Filling it from the stream, she lugs it over, placing it beside Glendor on the ground.

Glendor takes the body from the mats it was lying on and carries it in the middle of the larger room, where the light is better. He takes a piece of cloth and begins wiping teh blood off the man's face. "I'l need more of the clothes, and water"

Kestrae nods, running again to fetch everything Glendor neds, keeping her eyes on Glendor to watch what he's doing.

Charmat gets up and follows Glendor, then glances around madly looking for cloth.
Charmat relaxes as Kestrae goes to collect them.

Kestrae returns, standing beside Glen, ready to fetch anything else.

Glendor gasps, "I know him! This is one of Thranduil's Elves." He shakes his head, "He was really unfortunate on this trip to Lorien, I must say."

Charmat slips back into the background, though watching closely to all that Glendor does.

Glendor frowns, "These are the wounds of the black weapons! He must've met the Yrch!"

Kestrae leans closer, a soft shudder moving through her body. "Yrch? You sure??"

Glendor sighs, "The herbs and potions will not avail us here." He nods, "Yes, unless someone else got into the habit of using curved blades like those of scimitars"

Kestrae frowns, kneeing down to get a better look. "Oh, I see."

Charmat shivers, blanching at the answer. Staying in the shadows, she speaks quietly to herself, repeating hopeful words.

Glendor sighs, "The damage is too great. We have no cure for it..."

Charmat's eyes widen. Oh my.

Kestrae blinks, looking down at the body. "There must be something we can do??"

Alandil crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Alandil has arrived.

Elenwen crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Elenwen has arrived.

Glendor nods, "There is. With the blessing of Varda, the powers which she gives to all Quendi is what I have to rely upon now"

Charmat edges back into the shadows a bit more, wanting to stay well out of the way.

Kestrae is kneeling beside the body on teh floor, looking up at Glendor. "What can I do?"

Glendor is kneeling besides Tarinalas's body, who is all covered in blood, and terribly wounded

Alandil strides calmly and without hurry through the thicket, brushing aside tall grasses with the knife-edge of a slender hand. His fine silks are out-of-place, maybe, but they do not stain, and the stars light his face.

Elenwen follows behind Alandil and attempts to stay out of the way.

Glendor shakes his head, "Not much... Wish for it to succeed, that's all." He closes his eyes and holds his hands over Tarinalas's body, almost touching him.

Making certain to hold aside a path for the Noldorin Lady behind him, Alandil moves with a certain cool grace, face betraying no emotion as he pauses on the outskirts of the makeshift hospital. His dark eyes narrow as he surveys the area.

Kestrae touches Glendor's arm, whispering. "Can I help with that? Try at least? I've seen you do it before...

Glendor is in deep concentration, bordering with trans, and does not hear or see the newcomers. He responds to the touch, though, with a quiet wisper, "But if you do, you risk yourself. You would not know when to stop."

Alandil's voice seems to float on a breath of fresh air from the south, a soft whisper tinged with sadness as he turns aside to Elenwen. "Ah... the spoils of war. Whene'er I wonder why my kinfolk take ship, I need only look on such catastrophe..."

Elenwen looks down at the wounded elf, her eyes sad at the sight. She hums a soft tune to bring forth the healing powers and stave off the darkness of injury.

Kestrae blinks, sitting back on heals with a sigh, watching only.

A faint golden glow flickers in the air around Glendor's hands.

Charmat reaches back and wraps her fingers in the curtain, clinging to it as she watches.

Enfolding himself within the darkness of his sable cloak, Alandil stands beneath a tall tree, watching Kestrae attentively from where he remains, unobtrusive, and not interrupting. His eyes narrow as he recognises the wounded elf.

Glendor humms a soft chant, barely audible, and sways slighly back and forth, the glow around his hands getting stronger.

Kestrae watches Glendor's every move, her head canted to the side as she tries to follow the chant.

The glow grows stronger, it now envelops most of Glendor's hands and fills the air around. Small golden-red tongues of flame dance on Glendor's fingers.

Slowly and without outward indication, Alandil produces a small harp from... somewhere... within his cloak. Watching the young silvan elf near death, his eyes look up to the stars, and the silver light there shines within their hazel depths.

Charmat breathes slow claming breaths as she watches, excited and amazed at what she is seeing.

Kestrae looks up to see Alandil and Elenwen, her expression filled with her pain at watching this.

Glendor leans forward to touch Tarinalas, and, as if blown away by a gust of wind, the glow fades, and the darkness lays heavy around him.

Elenwen closes her eyes and her song fades to inaudible levels, yet there is a faint glow around her form as if the sun about to rise from the mountians.

Alandil glances to Elenwen, exchanging a glance between the old, former Imladhrim. Catching Kestrae's eye, he nods, and almost seems to smile as if to say, 'He will be well'...

Running his slender fingers along the fine strings of the harp, Alandil creates a song of sorrowful, ethereal beauty. The notes chime sadly, evoking images of softly-remembered bittersweets, and soon a clear voice rings out, singing:

Wolfe crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Wolfe has arrived.

                Always before, the spring returned.
                The bright world in its cycle spun
                In air and flowers, grass and fern,
                Assured and cradled by the sun.


                Always before, you could explain
                The turning darkness of the earth,
                And how that dark embraced the rain,
                And gave the ferns and flowers birth.


                Already I forget those things,
                And how a vein of gold survives
                The mining of a thousand springs,
                The seasons of a thousand lives.

Wolfe approaches silently and sits down, hearing the song.

                Now winter is my memory,
                Now autumn, now the summer light--
                So every spring from now will be
                Another season into night.

Bowing his head low, Alandil's voice falls.. his hands upon the lovely harp still.. and the mingled silence overtakes you in its embrace.

Glendor sways back, as if from a stroke, and raises his hands again, not willing to let go. He moans slightly, "No, not yet"

Kestrae leans over to support Glendor, her expression anxious. "Are you alright?!?"

Glendor is sitting on the floor near the blood-covered body of Tarinalas, with the other elves standing at teh sides of teh room

Charmat glances around at the faces of group, trying to read if she should be alarmed about Glendor.

Kestrae looks over as she hears the music, frowning again as Glendor leans against her.

Elenwen opens her eyes and a quick flame of light licks over them. She steps a bit closer to the wounded elf saying, "Try again...if you can."

The golden glow around Glendor's hands reappears, and this time the fire dances stronger around him

One arm in a sling, Wolfe strides toward Glendor and stops suddenly, seeing the stranger's condition. He gazes at Glendor, a question obviousily on his mind.

Alandil no longer has his harp, wherever it has gone.. within the folds of his greatcloak, surely? He watches the scene impassively, having seen its like an hundred times an hundred times before. He purses his lips, and whispers, "Thalionte', Tarinalas..."

Kestrae leans against Glendor, physically supporting him as he works, her eyes lift up to meet Alandil, frowning.

Glendor suddenly becomes aware that he's leaning against Kestrae, and tries to push away, his words quiet but clear, "No, no you must not... This will drain you, you would not know how much to give"

Alandil nods to Kestrae, his entire countenance expressing calm and a soothing feeling. Indeed, a light, airy nimbus of flickering silverlight seems to dance at the edges of his brow, and each who sees it thinks, 'It is for me, and me alone. I will be strong.'

Kestrae shakes her head, not moving from Glendor's side. "No! You need to heal him.. and you are weakening," she says softly. Again looking up at Alandil and Elenwen, her expression silently asking if she;s doing the right thing.

Alandil meets the maiden's gaze calmly, and nods imperceptibly to her...

Wolfe gazes over the scene before him with a curious look. He steps back from the busy healers and begins to make his way towards the small stream, stopping as he passes Elenwen. He smiles in greeting and quickly asks, "Do you know what happened?" He motions back towards the healers.

Glendor tries to sit straight, and the strain on his face is evident as the glow flares up brighter around him. He leans forward again, and the flame flickers, the strife of light and darkness visible in this desperate attempt.

Elenwen looks to Kestrae a quick moment, then back to Glendor.

Kestrae quivers as Glendor works, her wide green eyes watching his every move, though by her distant expression, she is also concentrating on offering him what she can.

The glow suddenly disappears, as if it is drawn inside Tarinalas's body. For a moment, both he and Glendor seem to be filled with a pure white light, and then Glendor slumps heavily to the side.

You administer aid to Tarinalas and think that his critical condition has stabalized.
<OOC Note> - 8 HP, Woohoo! :)

Alandil draws in a deep breath, and glances about almost furtively. Pinching his lips together tightly, he frowns a bit, but does not remove himself from the clearing, yet. He watches Glendor swoon without an outward reaction.

Elenwen shakes her head at Wolfe, her expression strained, though calm and kneels down next to Glendor, obviously concerned about his weakness.

Kestrae blinks a bit, then catches Glendor before he can fall, helping him lean back against her, cradling him a he regains his strength, her small face pale, as if she too might collapse soon.

Tarinalas's eyes open slowly, as one arm reaches for his head, he coughs out a little blood, but manages to get a comprehensible word out... "Ow..."

Wolfe's reaction quickly changes from curiousity to fear as he sees Glendor's condition.

Charmat's eyes flick quickly to the wounded man as she hears his stirr.

Elenwen keeps Glendor from falling and says to Kestrae, "Help the wounded." She indicated Tarinalas with her eyes.

Glendor lays motionless in the hands of the two Elves for a few moments, then stirs and opens his eyes, "He will remain... with us"

Alandil is kneeling swiftly by Kestrae's side, though he touches her not at all for the nonce. It is as if he moved in a sudden blur, and his dark, deep eyes are filled with concern for the young apprentice healer.

Tarinalas winces as he speaks... but manages to force the words out... "Does Nansaidh... know?"

Kestrae nods, stumbling to her feet, her movements quite sluggish. "I.." She

Pained by not being able to help, Charmat stands off in the shadows watching, her hands wringing into tight fists at her side.

Glendor lays his hand on Elenwen's shoulder, and pushes nimself up. Still not standing steady, he surveys the scene.

Alandil nods, watching Kestrae stand and go, but allowing her to do so without query of her state or strength. Frowning slightly, he turns to Tarinalas, who is near, and looks for a long moment at the wounded elf, searching... then, he nods to himself.

Wolfe breathes easier as the events unfold before him. Hebegins to walk towards the path again, stating in a quiet voice, "I must find another healer to replace Glendor before he dies of exhaustion ..."

Elenwen helps Glendor balance as she stands as well, more concerned if he has enough strength to find a place to rest.

With a quiet sigh, Kestrae kneels beside Tarin, helping him sit up enough to drink, if he will.

Alandil rises to his feet, and follows Wolfe to the edge of the clearing quickly. He lays a hand on the guard's arm in a soft but firm motion, and whispers, "Hold, sir Knightm if you would... I would speak with yo?"

Glendor hears another voice, "Who is here?" He looks around, "Alandil? Elenwen? Wolfe? I did not see you all coming here... is somebody else hurt?"

Elenwen shakes her head, "No...calm yourself..."

Tarinalas sips cautiously... then carefully touches his face to try and ascertain how much he was hurt...

Elenwen says, "You are the only other one who requires attention now."
Elenwen smiles lightly at Glendor.

Kestrae lets the elf down, smiling gently, her small face still too pale to be normal. "You were near death, but Glendor brought you back. You will heal, given time."

Wolfe stops and flinches slightly as the mysterious touch shoots pain up his shoulder. He cringes, before turning and meeting the voice.

Glendor stands steadier, and lets go of Elenwen's shoulder, his eyes still scanning the room, "Kestrae! Are you... How are you?"

Tarinalas attemts a nod, "So I'm stuck here again am I?"

Alandil observes the guard's reaction, and frowns. "... ... ... ... ... ... ... were ... ... I would speak with ... still. ... ... ... ... know.. ... ... ... for your ... last ... ... ... ... your ..."

Kestrae turns back to look at Glendor as he shouts, giving him a slight now. "I suffered not." She then turns back to Tarinalas. "Yes, you will require a fair amount of care."

Tarinalas sighs, "Oh boy... can I have visitors?"

Elenwen looks around and says, "You have plenty right now!"

Tarinalas glares at Elenwen...

His left arm hanging in a sling and his stance slightly bent over, Wolfe nods, and casts his gaze down. He then says softly, "Your words are kind and shall not be forgotten." He pauses, and draws a breath, before adding, "I do not take pleasure in such things, you should know that." His gaze meets Alandil's as he finishes speaking.

Glendor glances at Wolfe, "You would not come to the Hospital just because you wanted to walk around, I know you! I cannot feel your hurts yet, it will return to me in time, but tell me what..." He frowns slightly, "Oh, I remembere now, Silgon told me, and Selindor went searching for you"

Elenwen lifts her brow at the gaze and frowns.

Alandil nods to Wolfe as well, not breaking the shared gaze. "We all have our own duties, friend. I did mine, and you did yours. The One send such things seldom conflict as ours so sadly did." He then cracks a solemn smile.

Wolfe turns and smiles slightly at Glendor, "Aye .. and she found me and made me visit another healer." He slightly picks up his arm that is slung in the cast.

Glendor wearily takes few steps toward Wolfe, "Come... Sit on the cot here..."

Wolfe looks back at Alandil and nods and begins to speak but feels himself pulled towards Glendor.

Charmat glances around quickly, then slips back through the curtains.

Alandil nods in leavetaking to Wolfe, and glances at Kestrae. He turns back, ready to slip off unseen into the tall brush and low-hanging branches, but pauses momentarily.

Glendor points to the cot with one hand, but his eyes are already fixed on Wolfe's wounds, "Somebody should have tended to you earlier. Lay down, I'll see what I can do"

Elenwen studies Tarinalas wondering why he would be glaring at her.

Waving his hand that is not bound by the sling, Wolfe sits down, rather than lies down on the cot. He flinches ever so slightly after sitting and says, "Do not fret, mellon."

Elenwen stands back and shrugs, "Well as all seems to be well again, I think I'll begin to walk back. I didn't expect this coming out here. I remember now why I stay in the city. Namarie all!"

Nansaidh crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Nansaidh has arrived.

Alandil smiles from the shadows where he stands, beneath a tree, and whispers, "Namarie, Elenwen Noldoriel. I thank you for coming."

Nansaidh walks in slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.

Elenwen smiles over to Alandil and just shakes her head in strange amusement at the formality before she ducks out.

Elenwen crosses the small stream using the hidden guide ropes.
Elenwen has left.

Nansaidh nods to Glendor, then, seeing Tarinalas, walks over to him.

Tarinalas raises his head, "Oh hello Nansaidh... I hope you're not mad at me or anything..." He manages a small smile...

Nansaidh looks very concerned. "Are you allright?"

Tarinalas glances at the doctor, "I'm fine. Just a little head wound..."

Glendor moves to inspect Wolfe's wounds, with his eyes only, evidently his sense of touch did not return to him yet.

Nansaidh shakes her head, still with a furrowed brow and worried look. "Not angry, but I wish you would be more careful in your choices..." Nansaidh says, "Head wound?!"

Wolfe sits slightly bent over on the cot and uses his good arm to balance himself.

Alandil stands, unacknowledged and unobtrusive, beneath the shadows of a great old tree, its branches hanging low and providing him with almost.. a hidden niche. His dark eyes watch everything, but seem little concerned with anything.

Glendor moves to the table, and digs a couple of long greenish leaves out of the pile of herbs which covers the table, muttering, "We should get more space here... Ah-ha, here it is!"

Tarinalas hehs, "It's just a little dent, nothing to worry about. I WAS being careful. I'm just not up to fighting off more than one orch at a time!"

Nansaidh gasps. "Orcs? Dent?" She looks very worried.

Tarinalas sighs, "I'm still here. There was never really any danger now was there Glendor?" He sneaks a glance at the preoccupied healer, "See? Nothing to worry about!"

Nansaidh shakes her head, smiling a bit. "You..."

Glendor does not notice the question, being too busy with Wolfe's wounds. He covers the bandages with thick layer of an oily ointment, and covers the wounds, after clleaning them with a piece of clean cloth.

You administer aid to Wolfe and think that he looks a little better.
<OOC Note> - 8HP again :)

Tarinalas breaths a sigh of relief...

Nansaidh continues to shake her head. "You face orcs and say it was no danger? Only you Tarinalas." She smiles a bit more.

Glendor glances over his shoulder, only now noticing Nansaidh, "Do danger to whom? To Tarinalas?"

Tarinalas nods, "Yup. But then that's what makes life interesting!"

Alandil nods to himself, apparently satisfying some inner motive, and with a wistful look at Kestrae, fades into the shadows of the thickets.

Alandil crosses the small stream using the hidden guide ropes.
Alandil has left.

Tarinalas mutters to himself, "Oh boy..."

Silgon crosses the stream assisted by the nearby apprentice.
Silgon has arrived.
Silgon limps from the thickets, and collapses onto a bed. He sighs at his lack of strength, and smiles weakly to the others.

Glendor glances ovcer at Silgon, "You're back here? Good, time to change your bandages too"

Nansaidh frowns. "Interesting."

Silgon nods. "I guess so..." He rolls to his back forlornly, like a small child.

Glendor finishes covering Wolfe's wounds and moves over to Silgon, "Let me see how you are doing here..."

Tarinalas whews as attention has been diverted from his earlier comments.

Nansaidh says, "What hapened, was there an attack? How could I not have heard?"

Tarinalas speaks quickly to keep up, "Yes, I dunno..."

Nansaidh looks confused. "I assume you were not the only one fighting..."

Glendor shakes his head, "I do not want to disturb these bandages, Silgon. The wounds under them seem to heal quickly. You may sit in the pool, though - the water will soak the bandages"

You administer some aid to Silgon but don't know if it will help...
<OOC Note> - +heal failed :(

Tarinalas looks sheepish, "Well no... the yrch were there too... And a few archers from Lorien..."

Silgon nods, and closes his eyes calmly. "If you say so..."

Nansaidh shakes her head. "Well, I am glad you are allright...orcs..." She frowns.

Silgon rolls to his side. He is in a predicament, as he has a wound on all his sides, and can't find a position without laying on one...

Silgon slowly reaches his arm down to his right thigh. HE rubs the bandage curiously.

Nansaidh suddenly looks over to Glendor. "Is there anything that I can help with, mellon?"

Glendor stands amd walks over to Tarinalas and Nansaidh, and stands over Tarinalas, looking down, "I heard briefly of what you did today, and how you received these wounds... But you may should know that another Elf risked her life to save yours. As for me, I must rest now. Namarie, mellyn!"

Tarinalas looks startled, "Who?"

Glendor replies, already half-hidden by the thickets surrounding the path, "Kestrae"

You approach the river and quickly find the two hidden guide ropes. You cross easily and push your way through the thickets, back onto the path again.