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by Cyla Grimblade on Aug 22, 2012 at 02:44 PM
Cyla wandered into the Eagle Guard Hall on the motivation of collecting her orders for the week. Having been recently promoted to a full Guardswoman and deciding on joining the Heavy Infantry under the command of Sergeant Fuerlan Grimblade, she decided to speak with him about how best she could be put to use as well as give the man an update to how her swordsmanship was progressing under the watchful eye of her good friend Friddora.

Waiting in the main room, her green eyes glanced around, taking in the maps on the walls. "I still find this place daunting, why?" Cyla silently mused to herself. Soon her silent musings were interrupted as a man in Eagle Guard uniform strode through the hall and up to the Captain's office. "Odd", she thought, "I'll ask Fuerlan about that."

Soon after, Levlidian, a new recruit to the guard and Barvant a fellow guardsman joined her. Cyla explained the odd guard to the others and was assured that it does at times happen though if worried talk to an officer about it. Waiting as patiently as possible, though unable to shake the feeling of unease creeping over her. Minutes seemed to drag by, when finally Fuerlan arrived. Speaking to him quietly, he assured her he would see what the guard wanted and left the trio in the main hall while he went up to the Captains Quarters.

The groups general discussion about training was broken by the sound of a struggle from upstairs. Rushing towards the backroom, the group stopped in their tracks as they came across a hooded Eorangar, holding a wounded Fuerlan hostage. Cyla's eyes widened briefly as she looks from Fuerlan to Eorangar and back again.

"Get back! Get back now, or I will make your dear Sergeant pay!" Eorangar yelled. Slowly at his words, Cyla backed away, surprised that her legs hadn't given way from panic. Summoning as much authority as she could muster into her soft voice she ordered the other two back, recognising the strong Rohirric accent of the man she had previously stopped escaping the guard and had fought. Baravnt though, foolishly stepped forward, antagonising the assailant further.

"Get back you fool!" Cyla screamed. Fear and dread holding her heart captive as this man held Fuerlan hostage. It was then that Cyla realised she would do whatever she could for Fuerlan, to ensure he lived to fight another day, yet Barvant wasn't making this easy..

Slowly Eorangar eased himself and Fuerlan into the main hall. "Get over there, to the dias! take off your boots and tie your hands with them! NOW!" He yelled.

Very slowly, her eyes never leaving Eorangar, Cyla does as she is told, calmly ordering the others to follow suit. "Damnit you fool, for once in your life do as you are bloody told." She hissed at Barvant as he still continued to defy everyone in the room. Sitting down she would remove her boots, her green eyes watching, while her mind raced. "We'll give chase once Fuerlan has been released." She thought to herself.

Barvant, though, seemed to have other ideas. Throwing things, vials containing who knew what at Fuerlan and Eorangar. Cyla groaned inwardly at the foolishness of this man, but she could only watch as Eorangar's ire grew at Barvant. In an act that caused her to scream in horror he viscously stabbed Fuerlan over and over before throwing him to the floor.

"You bloody fool! Look what you did!" She screamed at Barvant, though her eyes could not leave the fallen and prone figure that was Fuerlan. Eorangar snarled at the three of them before throwing caltops onto the floor, turning and running from the hall. Quickly untying the loose knot she freed herself and pulled on the boots, running to Fuerlan's side.

"Give chase! Now!" She yelled, her voice quivering slightly as she gave the order while she tried in vain to stop the bleeding from the multiple stab wounds on Fuerlan's torso. "No, no, no. Stay with me sir." She mumbled, more to herself than to the unconscious Fuerlan. Ignoring the others as they ran off after Eorangar she took supplies from a pouch at her belt to tend the wounds.

Levlidian was the first to arrive back, "I couldn't see him Cyla. Is there anything I can do here?" His gruff voice quiet and soft. Quietly, Cyla orders a bowl of heated water brought to her. Nodding her thanks to Levlidian a short while later, she began to work, cleaning and stitching the wounds closed.

"No sign of the coward." Exclaimed a breathless Barvant.

"I already know!" She snapped back, her eyes never leaving Fuerlan as she worked. After what seemed like an age she finished stitching the wounds. "Help me get him to the house of healing. I can do more there." Without a word Levlidian and Barvant carried Fuerlan to the healing house, silently following Cyla.

"Can I do anything to help? I am also medically trained." Barvant says as he lays down Fuerlan in the small, candle lit room.

"You've done enough Barvant. Go. I don't want you here." She looks up angrily at the man. Glaring angrily at her, she watches as he turns on his heel and stalks from the healing house.

Looking down at Fuerlan, she takes a deep breath to steady herself. "Come on Fuerlan, stay with me...I won't give up on you." She softly says as she began to work throughout the night to stabilise him...
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by Arenfith Irongrip on Jul 05, 2012 at 12:58 AM
Sorry about the format, but as some poeple had to log this is everything that was said at that little gathering.

Cyla says, 'Now, some of you know the enemy, some don't. Nalokha, and her force in the north. That is our enemy, that is who we strive to protect the Free People from.'
Cyla says, 'We know of a few of her lackeys, a few of her tricks... I will not lie to you, we are usually out numbered by her force. The battles are hard fought and with losses.'
Cyla says, 'I know that some have questions, as such, I will open the floor to you.'
Bjornbryt says, 'Yes, I do believe i have one.'
Cyla says, 'Go ahead.'
Bjornbryt says, 'Since I have been absent for some time, have any of her followers who were prominent before I left been killed?'
Cyla says, 'Depends, who were her followers when you were last here?'
Bjornbryt says, 'I can not bring their names to bear, however I am just wondering if there has been much of a shock to her command structure mostly.'
Edelhilde says, 'Could we start at the beginning? Who are they and why they hate us, specifically, so?'
You say, 'We have in recent times killed two of Nalokhas inner circle, her Lieutenant Arasan and her assassin Khalithia.'
Zelderan frowns slightly at the questions then walks onto the stage
Bjornbryt says, 'Ahh.'
Bjornbryt says, 'And where in the structure is this Eorangar?'
Cyla says, 'As to why we are at war with Nalokha, I personally feel the Lieutenant is better able to answer.'
Zelderan says, 'You all want to know why exactly we are fighting Nalokha?'
Edelhilde says, 'I do.'
Zelderan says, 'Nalokha.. I first heard her name years ago... We have a long history.. Too much to delve back to without you lot being stuck here for quite a while.. Basically, she wants to control Eriador.. Conquer it. We are the main thing that stands in her way.. She sees us as a threat, as we do, her... That mixed in with revenge is why she wants us destroyed'
Edelhilde says, 'Revenge over what, sir?'
Zelderan says, 'Our Captain, slew her cousin.. Another powerful being.. Yes Dirtar?'
Dirtar says, 'What do we do if we, say..see her in the Pony, or are followed by her for quite some time?'
Fuerlan says, 'If she is in Bree, she is there for a reason.'
Dirtar says, 'Recruiting..'
Zelderan says, 'Whatever you do... Do not fight her alone, nor if you are with two or three others.. You may think you can easily take her but making that mistake will mean your death.. Try to get away, call for help'
Bjornbryt says, 'Lieutenant.'
Zelderan says, 'Aye?'
Bjornbryt says, 'Would her cousin be the man with the golden armor that we encountered long ago?'
Bjornbryt says, 'The one from the barrow downs.'
Zelderan says, 'Nay... Her cousin was called Akallabeth, an ancient enemy of Isilorbor.. Long before the Eagle Guard was founded'
Bjornbryt says, 'If I recall rightly, this man with the armor was killed before it was founded as well though, was he not?'
Zelderan says, 'Hmm... Arasan.. Aye Isilorbor cut him down..'
Edelhilde nods her thanks at Cyla before speaking.
Bjornbryt says, 'Ahh'
Edelhilde says, 'So we know now that she wishes to control Eriador, is a user of dark spells, and also has a personal grudge against the Guard. Could we get a list of the notable people following her, their descriptions, names, known weaknesses and possible styles of conducting battle?'
Cyla says, 'Eorangar, a known sellsword is a captain of hers. His face deathly pale and badly scarred, most noticable is scarring on his right cheek from a battle I once had with him. He fights to primarily kill, the man has no fear of death. Though given the chance he will run.'
Fuerlan says, 'Eorangar uses two blades and relies on speed. Nalokha herself relies on fear. She has other servants though one, a mad women named Cae hinted that she uses poisons. Another named Arkadith is unknown.'
Edelhilde says, 'Do we have their physical descriptions?'
Fuerlan says, 'Arkadith no, other than he wears a Golden helmet which covers the face.'
Fuerlan says, 'Cae is a blonde woman, she wears robes and a circlet.'
Fuerlan says, 'Eorangar can be found in many garbs, his face is scarred badly, he stands out in a crowd.'
Fuerlan says, 'Nalokha can be found mostly wearing red, she has dark skin and hair.'
Cyla says, 'In places like the Pony, Eorangar usually covers his face to hide the scarring.'
Edelhilde says, 'So - Eorangar, Cae, Arkadith, Nalokha. Those are the four we can recognise and be wary of?'
Fuerlan says, 'Arkadith if he happens to be in armour Aye.'
Cyla says, 'until we recieve any more reports, those seem to be the most.. active of her dogs.'
Fuerlan says, 'There is one more.'
Edelhilde says, 'Do they have a base of operation we know of - oh?'
Fuerlan says, 'We believe a man named Turgur serves her now. He is a warrior with blonde hair. A big man and...an old friend and ally of the guard...'
Cyla says, 'As with the others, be wary should you see Turgur. Edelhilde, what were you asking?'
Edelhilde says, 'Ah - if we have any knowledge regarding their preferred base of operation, if they have any.'
Cyla says, 'Angmar is where the vast majority of Nalokhas force are.'
Fuerlan says, 'They travel, alot. One place they return to is Bree, if not there then Angmar, where we cannot get them.'
Cyla says, 'Any further questions?'
Zelderan says, 'Just one thing.. Please do not underestimate them and think you can take them on.. They usually use this weakness and can very much likely lead to your death.. Don't try follow them for they may lead you into a trap.. Understood?'
Cyla says, 'I will also add to that, and state it will take not just strength of arm to be victorious, but also strength of mind. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, remember, without fear we have no courage.'
Fuerlan says, 'The enemy are the enemy of our blood, all of us, they dont care about your or your families, they would see you all dead just for who you are. The lands of Eriador have known relative peace. Dont let that give you a false sense of security. The people of Dale and Gondor can tell you the enemies of the Free people still have strength.'
Zelderan says, 'If you have no other questions, you are dismissed until further orders'
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by Cyla Grimblade on Jun 28, 2012 at 06:21 PM
Cyla looked upon the poster, reading the words carefully while the sun shone on her dark blonde hair. "The Eagle Guard, recruiting man and woman in all shapes and sizes", she read, murmuring the words softly to herself. She'd take a last glance around Combe before striding up the steps to the Combe and Wattle Inn.

Opening the Inn door, she'd glance around the darkened room. Seeing it was quiet she found a quiet corner in which to sit and reflect upon the months past. "Am I doing the right thing?" she silently pondered, her mind drifting back to a few months previous, to the carnage and destruction that was wrought upon her once ideal life. Her family farm ransacked, her father murdered and her elder brother, Eric, gravely wounded. Taking a deep breath she would shake her head a little, clearing her mind of those thoughts. "No, I will no longer hide..." , she murmured softly to herself, thinking back to the letter she had sent to this Captain Isilorbor Ventris, expressing her wish to join the Guard. No sooner had she uttered the words to herself, the Inn door opened, in strode a rugged looking male, shoulder length dark hair, a trimmed beard. Quickly glancing down to her hands, Cyla gathered her thoughts before rising to her feet and walking to the man.

"Are you the new recruit I was sent to speak with?", asked the man in a hard, flat tone. His grey eyes sizing her up. Cyla would seem to shrink back slightly under his gaze. Taking a deep breath, she would hesitate slightly before responding.

"Y-yes sir.. Cyla Applegate is my name."Cyla would close her eyes, silently cursing her nervous demeanour. Risking a glance to the male she would see him nod, something in his eyes would soften a little to her.

"I'm Fuerlan, a Sergeant of the Eagle Guard. Why do you wish to join us?", he asked, getting right down to business.

"Well, after my father was murdered and brother severely wounded sir, I vowed i would no longer hide.. I-I wanted to help make a difference." Cyla would quickly lower her gaze once more, feeling well out of her depth. Risking another glance up to the man whom she now knew was Fuerlan, she would see a brief flicker of a smile cross his lips.

"Good. What skills can you offer us? Are you well versed in the sword?" The questions caught her off guard. Stammering she'd take a deep breath before answering once more.

"My real skill is healing s-sir. My sword skills are... minimal.. at best.. though I am willing to learn to improve." She nodded eagerly, as though trying to prove her point. Fuerlan would nod once more, seeming unable to stop a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth as a slight smile surfaced once again. Cyla lowered her gaze quickly once more, her cheeks reddening to the smile. She'd stand in silence, giving a slight nod as Fuerlan explained about the training period, as well as her duties.

"With all that said, welcome to The Eagle Guard. I'll escort you to Sheptry where you will meet the Captain. He will give you a tour of the keep and answer any questions you may have.", Fuerlan stated in a matter of fact tone, beckoning her to follow him. Cyla would once again, take a deep breath and fall into line behind the Sergeant.

The journey to Sheptry was one of silence, only the sound of their footsteps broke the sound of the birds chirping and the rustle of the wind in the trees. Once again, Cylas mind drifted to events gone by. "Well, I am in this Eagle Guard." She thought to herself, still wondering if she had made the right choice. the sale of her family farm had given her enough funds to buy a sword, shield and basic armour. Yet her mind raced as to what the future held in store for her, and her brother. Silently, she hoped her brother would make a recovery, though chances were slim.

Finally, Cyla looked up to the building Fuerlan had lead her to. Her jaw dropping open slightly at the magnificence of the structure. Her gaze suddenly turned to Fuerlan upon realising he was speaking with her. Blushing once more she realised he was telling her to go inside and upstairs to the Captains quarters. She'd nod her thanks and turn to the building, walking nervously to the door, though a slight frown would cross her features, wondering why she felt so nervous around Fuerlan, never before had she felt such around a man.

"Well, this is it." She thought, "Home, let us hope I do not let anyone down..." She murmured the last to herself as she opened the hall door, and stepped inside..
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by Captain Isilorbor Ventris on Jun 28, 2012 at 05:09 PM
Prologue

‘Everything is going according to schedule, sir.’
‘And yet, I am uneasy.’
Cyla Grimblade stood at ease in front of her captain, the white and gold of her leather armour was surprisingly ornate for a fighting force as strong as the Eagle Guard, but that was a lie. The leather itself was strong, an unyielding hide that had more than once saved Cyla from a maiming sword slash.
Wearing her hair in a long golden waterfall, Cyla’s green eyes framed her neat face that would have been worthy of a painting, but there was something within those eyes that caused pause. A strength and understanding, like she shared a secret that only you and her knew.
Her tongue was well known to the Guard, but for all the wrong reasons.
Anyone who dared challenge her to an argument soon either lost or gave up, making her an ideal sergeant for the Guard.
The man before her was tall and board, long black hair framed a face that could have been craved from stone with a sharp jawline and high cheek bones. Emerald green were resting on a table of dark wood while strong, long fingers were steeple under his bottom lip. The only flaw to his face was two scars running down across his face from both eyes to his top lip, marks of war given in a long lost home that Isilorbor was never keen to speak of.
Isilorbor Ventris was sat in his quarters, a small fire cracking to his right while a large window behind him flooded the room with soft light, casting a shadow across his desk and mood.
‘We only have a few assets at her disposable and I cannot afford to spend them lightly,’ Isilorbor was saying. ‘A grand total of three hundred men will not carry victory upon their shoulders alone.’
Cyla nodded, knowing what her captain was really saying.
‘As things stand now, tis in our best interest to seek allies.’ She said.
‘Of what kind, though?’ Isilorbor asked.
Isilorbor let his hands drop as he stood, walking around his desk to stare out the smaller window closest to Cyla. He crossed his arms across his chest, overlooking the Eagles Keep.
The Eagles Keep was a stone fortress that sat upon a tall hill that overlooked a small valley, built in the time of Arnor, Isilorbor had wasted no time in bringing in builders to reform the fort into its former glory and set it up as his headquarters. Other buildings had been built around the base of the hill and some even on it, giving the Guard the independence that few other forces can boast. In truth, the Eagles Keep was a self-reliant and self-providing base of operations.
Isilorbor had found this valley with old Arnor ruins and had put it to good use, using an old gated wall that guarded the mouth of the valley while sheer cliff edges boxed them in. He had yet to find a suitable trader in stone to make more permanent defences, so until then they had set up wooden palisades.
Isilorbor could see that a few sections of his Guardsmen were patrolling around the valley, keeping in a loose formation while other stood on sentry duty.
Cyla took her time in answering.
‘As things stand, we only have enough to actively patrol Bree-Land, The Lone-Lands and the North Downs. Tis hardly the whole of Eraidor, and we are would benefit from extending a friendly hand to the other races.’
Isilorbor looked back at his sergeant with a raised eyebrow.
‘Other races? I doubt that the Elves and Dwarves care much for the affairs of Men.’ He spoke without any spite, simply from a point of view.
‘How would we know? Is it not worth to try, captain?’ Cyla countered.
Isilorbor turned his head back out the window, his brow frowned in thought.
It was easy the think that you fought a war alone and never thought that others fought it as well, but asking other races to an alliance, who thought on completely different levels of thinking, was a stretch.
Then again, it was a case of nothing to lose and everything to gain.
‘I will send some an eagle to the other races.’ He said after a lengthy pause.
Cyla nodded.
‘There is another matter, sir.’
‘Speak.’
‘Our war chests and wagons have come back, they are fit to be supplied for the coming campaign.’ Her tone was flat, she knew where they were going, even if the Guard did not. Isilorbor had been careful not to leak this, the time wasn’t right.
‘Have them hidden away for now, we need to get our stores in order before we even consider about packing.’ Isilorbor said.
‘Captain,’ Cyla paused, not sure what her next words would be.
Isilorbor looked at his sergeant and give a slow, knowing nod.
‘I know, Cyla. Nalokha has a strong grip on Angmar, and if we are to break it, it will be a bloody conflict. The Ealges will march on Angmar, but we will not march alone.’
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by Cyla Grimblade on Jun 28, 2012 at 12:02 AM
Dawn broke across the hills of Bree-land, the first rays of the sun shining through a small bedroom window, stirring Cyla. Opening her green eyes, she'd slowly sit up, wiping the nights sleep from them. Glancing around her room she'd throw the covers off her and move to dress herself upon hearing her father and elder brother also stirring within the farmhouse. Humming softly, she'd quickly make her way to the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Setting down the bowls of porridge, Cyla would smile gently towards her father and brother. In turn they would greet her warmly, and she saw in her fathers eyes the usual sadness she had come to know as he gazed upon his only daughter. Silently, they would sit and eat, Cylas mind drifting to the years past where she'd sit before her father, in front of the hearth in the kitchen, listening to tales of the mother she never knew.

Once she had cleared the breakfast things and the men were hard at work, toiling the fields, Cyla would set about her other chores. Humming softly, she made her way to the horses, a soft and gentle smile tugging at her youthful lips. First she approached Stormer, her fathers horse. The grey steed looked at her with expectant eyes. With a gentle chuckle she would reach up and gently rub his nose, her thoughts once again drifting back to the years gone by..

"Hard work never hurt no one. We live and work on the farm, we can't just take a day off when we feel like it.. the farms survival is dependant on us." Her father once told her. Cyla would smile gently as she remembered the words, spoken to her in a soft yet hard tone. A life lesson her father called it. One she readily applied on a daily basis.

As noon approached, Cyla began to make her way from the horses having mucked them out and tended their daily needs. Her green gaze suddenly turning to Stormer as the horse whinnies and stomps his hoof, clearly unsettled.

"Tis not like you Stormer, what is wrong?", remarked Cyla. Concern crossing her young face. Only now did she realise how still the air was. How quiet the birds had grown. Her gaze darting about the farm, she'd spot her father and elder brother, still hard at work.

Suddenly a cry would break the still air along with the sound of a dozen pounding feet upon the earth. Her panicked gaze darting to her father and brother, who were already running to the house.

"Quick, Cyla.. into the cellar! Hide!", her father urged as he ran inside the home, fetching his weapon. Obediently, she ran into the house and down the cellar steps, her brother closing the door after her. Finding a dark, quiet corner, she would sit and hide.

Moments later, shouts and the sounds of swords clashing filled the small farm. Though dulled to Cyla, she would tightly hold her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sounds around her. After what seemed like an Age passing, all fell silent. Slowly, Cyla would lower her hands and listen for any sound of life from above. Any sound that would betray the intruders as having still been there. Yet, there was none.

Rising from her hiding place, she quietly made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she would try to peek through the gap. As she drew closer, a warm, wet drip landed on her forehead. Frowning slightly, she'd brush it away and push at the door with her shoulder. After some effort, Cyla finally succeeded. Squinting slightly as the light hit her eyes after sitting in the dark for so long.

She'd look down at her hand which had brushed away the drip on her forehead, frowning upon seeing it was blood. Her gaze lifting and darting wildly around the room she would scream upon seeing her father slain laying nearby. Ignoring the ransacked house, Cyla ran outside, in search of her brother.

"Eric?! Eric?!", she screamed. She'd run to the fields, searching frantically for him, yet she would only come across a slain blackwold. "Eric?!", she'd scream once more, tears rolling down her cheeks as two guardsmen ran to the farm. Ignoring the newcomers who looked upon her with pity, she'd run to the horses. There, lying next to Stormer was Eric, unconscious and barely alive.

Cradling her brother, Cyla would look around the ransacked farm. One of the guard, a friend approached Cyla with caution. "Cyla?", he asked. Turning her gaze to him she would whisper "H-he needs help.. please.. get him to a healer." The guard would nod and beckon his fellow over. Together they would carefully lift Eric and move him. Cyla meanwhile remained kneeling, her eyes gazing at the carnage and destruction left in the wake of the attack...
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by Zellina on May 16, 2012 at 07:23 PM
Zellina turn around slowly waking from the sunlight gently caressing her face. She took a deep breath and blinked her eyes a little, pushing herself up and sitting in the bed. She looked around the bedroom as she pulled the cover closer around her. It was still slightly chilli even though it was spring, the sun had not yet won the battle against the winter but it was only a matter of week’s maybe days. As Zellina sat there she started thinking about the time since she had moved from the little cottage where she had lived all her life. A lot of things had happened so fast, maybe a little too fast she thought to herself.
She had moved out of the cottage after her parents’ death and travelled to Bree in hope of finding a place to work as an herbalist. Yet she had not been successful, most place already had herbalists enough or no money to hire a new one. As the days passed and her money gotten fewer and fewer she realized she had to do something and soon. With great sorry she had sold her parents’ cottage to the lumber camp outside of Combe to try and raise a little money. She got a good price and bought herself a larger house in the homesteads of Bree-Land she then started her own clinic, a free clinic at that. Maybe a little ambitious she thought to herself looking back now. The clinic barely kept itself running with donations from kind souls sharing her vision of a free clinic, to help those less fortunate.
Zellina wiggled her toes and smiled to herself even though it was a money drain she loved it here, true she had been thinking on closing the clinic and focusing on the work for the Eagle Guard. That was indeed another thing that had happened somewhat fast. She had been in Bree at some point and noticed a poster form the Eagle Guard looking for recruits in all shapes and sizes, even with the newly started clinic she had figured that she would need money from somewhere. So a newly started guard might just be the place for her to earn a little case to keep her own place floating. The work for the guard had been somewhat chaotic at times, but she had also meet some people that she had grown fond off and now considered her family. However being part of this guard (which had turned out to be larger than she had thought) she had realised things about herself that she never really had paid much attention to before. For one she was not the most social person in the all of middle earth, not that she didn’t enjoy other peoples company she simply lacked the social skills. Since she had grown up a bit outskirts of well everything she had never really interacted with other people than her parents, of course the sometimes had guests or clients in her mother’s clinic but then it was mostly them talking not her. Most of her time had gone with studying her mother’s books and helping her collecting fresh herbs, making salves and other things for the clinic. This meant that she had become quite a skilled healer who then seemed to lack a few social skills. Zellina often had found herself feeling slightly uncomfortable around the other guards, because she was unsure how to act or what to say. Though there were two exceptions, a fellow healer named Cyla had taking Zellina all in as she was, not really question her way of acting or frowned upon it. This had made her so comfortable around Cyla that Zellina was she the way she felt for Cyla, had to be like having a sister, that was at least how she viewed her. Then there was Caim, Zellina had a hard time wrapping her mind around the entire deal with Caim. Why she trusted him so and care for him, she could not quite put her finger on, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her heart skip a beat. Which she found rather weird since she had never really care most for men and love, but there was just something about him she could not ignore. Even though he was good at testing her patience, Zellina shook her head a little chuckling to herself as she pull the over away and carefully place her bare feet on the floor slowly making her way to the window opening it.
Zellina closed her eyes feeling the light breeze kissing her cheeks, and then she walked across the room and to her main room and looked around. It kind of felt like she was looking at the place with a set of brand new eyes, the past few days had been kind of a blur. She had more or less only returned to Bree-land after having taken time off and gone to the Shire to recover properly after her illness. She had sent letters to both Cyla and Caim to let them know she was okay, but it had turned out that Caim had not gotten his which meant he had been worried sick. Zellina pulled her shoulders up and wrapped her arms around herself, she hated worrying other people. Lucky Cyla had adverted a one man search.
After she had returned to Bree-land she had barely been home more than a day, and Caim showed up at her house. It was very heart-warming, she just thought he came over to truly make sure she was okay. Well she reckoned that of course was part of it as well, but he had taken her by surprise and asked her to marry him. It was kind of fussy for her, they had been interrupted repeatedly by a guard she had never met before. Thinking about it now, Zellina was not sure if she had even given him a proper answer to his question. However she had said that they should talk details later on.
She sighed and walked back to her bedroom and closed the window slowly getting dressed. Was she ready to get wed? Would she be a good wife? There were so many questions that now popped out. All she had ever been was a healer, now she was about to give herself completely to someone else. For that person to rely on her so much kind of scared her, what if she would fail?
After getting dressed she walked to the front door opening it, standing in the sunlight for a little while. She should go see Caim and talk to him about her thoughts that would be the most fair after all.