The Tale of a warrior Maid
Chapter 5
As the travelers neared the tents they could see that the camp was divided into six sections. Each distinguished by the colorful flags flying above each tent. Kesteral gathered that the army was divided into six legions, which where under the control of six officers. She also noticed that each legion was divided into three sections itself. Each race of the free people had pitched their tents close to their kin. Closest to the middle where the men of Rohan and Gondor. The few elves that had enlisted where pitched farther out and then came the dwarves. Kesteral could tell that the border between the Elves and dwarves was restless, as neither race had ever gotten along well with the other.
"Where do we register?" Haradwë asked scanning the confusing mass of tents and soldiers.
"I guess we have to ask," replied Therindell approaching a near by dwarf who was busy repairing an axe. "Excuse me, where do we go to enlist?" he asked after attracting the dwarf's attention.
Therindell's only reply was a string of rash Khazdul words. Obviously the dwarf had no idea what Therindell had spoken to him, and had taken it as an insult.
Kesteral immediately interfered repeating the question in the dwarf's own language and apologizing for any offense the elf may have given. The dwarf in turn directed them to a small tent that stood near the middle of the fray.
As the trio neared the registry they could see several elves, men and dwarves questioning the new recruits, who stood in a line, waiting. The brothers and Kesteral joined the wait and after many minutes had finally reached the front.
"Name, age, race and skills please," said a small man with a monotonous voice who was surrounded by papers.
Kesteral noticed the questions where directed at her, and she also noticed that due to the fact her hood was up the man had obviously not recognized her as a women. "Kesteral of Orthanc, eighteen, um. half-elf,"
"So man then." The old fellow replied writing hurriedly on a piece of parchment.
"No, I'm a bit of an odd combination."
"Dwarf then?" he asked impatiently.
'No sir, my father was a Halfling of the Shire." Kesteral corrected quickly hoping not to be interrupted.
"I see," the man replied making a note on the parchment. "Do you have any skills we should note, or should I send you back to the Shire?"
Oh how she hated people with such closed minds. "I am an experienced archer and I know seven languages. I can also use elven battle knives," she paused. "I was not raised in the Shire. I was raised by a wizard and the elves of Rivendell. From what I can see sir, I would probably handle my self in battle better then you."
"So you're a translator?" the men asked not even flinching at her come back.
"Yes," She replied stiffly giving up hope that he would accept her as a warrior. What would he think if he was to know she was also a woman?
"Proceed down the line, Dwily will test your skills," the tiny man said pointing to a heavy set dwarf standing in the middle of a fenced of practice range beside two rather beat up targets and a pole that looked like it would fall apart at any moment. Kesteral walked over to him and left the annoying little man to the mercy of the two brothers.
"Good evening young sir," the dwarf began as he fussed over one of the targets. "Lets get you tested. First lets see you hit the target from back over by that line," he said pointing to a strip of leather laid on the ground twenty fifty meters away. Kesteral walked over took out her bow and one arrow, aimed and let the arrow fly. Strait through the bull's eye went a maroon feathered shaft.
'Very well done!" the dwarf cried out plucking the arrow out of the wood, "Now try it another twenty meters back. Kesteral did. "Excellent, strait through the middle. Now let's see your close combat," he instructed pointing to the well hacked pole. Kesteral removed her knives and set to it. Adding several more well sized chips with a whirlwind of blades. "Beautiful, you can continue down the line to the final bit of paper work," the fat dwarf commented pointing to an elf and several other men who interviewed and documented several other recruits. Kesteral put her knives back in their sheaths and put her bow on her back before stepping up to a frazzled looking man who was attempting to make sense of a mess of papers.
"Excuse me" she began.
"Oh hello, just a moment," he replied grabbing a quill and the same parchment the tiny annoying man had used from a boy who had just delivered it. "Okay Kesteral, We will be placing you as translator for the kings, but I'm going to need to have you to give us samples of what you can do, introduce yourself to us in each language you know." Kesteral did. "Very nice, do you have any abnormalities we should note, besides your lineage?"
"Nothing except that I'm not a man," Kesteral replied removing her hood. Please don't kick me out she thought.
"Oh, okay," the man said, Kesteral was shocked at his reaction. "That shouldn't be too much of a problem. Just try not to distract any of the men and stay out of any trouble. I don't mind having a female in the ranks, but others might jump at the chance of having you expelled. Report to the grey tent on the right for any other supplies you might need. Your tent will be beside the King's and will have a green flag over it. Your legion is lead by King Ellesar. I'll document your papers and tell the kings that I've found them a translator. Good day," with that he moved on to registering Haradwë who had come just finished his skill test. Kesteral then made her way to the grey tent, trying to decide what she would need.
As the travelers neared the tents they could see that the camp was divided into six sections. Each distinguished by the colorful flags flying above each tent. Kesteral gathered that the army was divided into six legions, which where under the control of six officers. She also noticed that each legion was divided into three sections itself. Each race of the free people had pitched their tents close to their kin. Closest to the middle where the men of Rohan and Gondor. The few elves that had enlisted where pitched farther out and then came the dwarves. Kesteral could tell that the border between the Elves and dwarves was restless, as neither race had ever gotten along well with the other.
"Where do we register?" Haradwë asked scanning the confusing mass of tents and soldiers.
"I guess we have to ask," replied Therindell approaching a near by dwarf who was busy repairing an axe. "Excuse me, where do we go to enlist?" he asked after attracting the dwarf's attention.
Therindell's only reply was a string of rash Khazdul words. Obviously the dwarf had no idea what Therindell had spoken to him, and had taken it as an insult.
Kesteral immediately interfered repeating the question in the dwarf's own language and apologizing for any offense the elf may have given. The dwarf in turn directed them to a small tent that stood near the middle of the fray.
As the trio neared the registry they could see several elves, men and dwarves questioning the new recruits, who stood in a line, waiting. The brothers and Kesteral joined the wait and after many minutes had finally reached the front.
"Name, age, race and skills please," said a small man with a monotonous voice who was surrounded by papers.
Kesteral noticed the questions where directed at her, and she also noticed that due to the fact her hood was up the man had obviously not recognized her as a women. "Kesteral of Orthanc, eighteen, um. half-elf,"
"So man then." The old fellow replied writing hurriedly on a piece of parchment.
"No, I'm a bit of an odd combination."
"Dwarf then?" he asked impatiently.
'No sir, my father was a Halfling of the Shire." Kesteral corrected quickly hoping not to be interrupted.
"I see," the man replied making a note on the parchment. "Do you have any skills we should note, or should I send you back to the Shire?"
Oh how she hated people with such closed minds. "I am an experienced archer and I know seven languages. I can also use elven battle knives," she paused. "I was not raised in the Shire. I was raised by a wizard and the elves of Rivendell. From what I can see sir, I would probably handle my self in battle better then you."
"So you're a translator?" the men asked not even flinching at her come back.
"Yes," She replied stiffly giving up hope that he would accept her as a warrior. What would he think if he was to know she was also a woman?
"Proceed down the line, Dwily will test your skills," the tiny man said pointing to a heavy set dwarf standing in the middle of a fenced of practice range beside two rather beat up targets and a pole that looked like it would fall apart at any moment. Kesteral walked over to him and left the annoying little man to the mercy of the two brothers.
"Good evening young sir," the dwarf began as he fussed over one of the targets. "Lets get you tested. First lets see you hit the target from back over by that line," he said pointing to a strip of leather laid on the ground twenty fifty meters away. Kesteral walked over took out her bow and one arrow, aimed and let the arrow fly. Strait through the bull's eye went a maroon feathered shaft.
'Very well done!" the dwarf cried out plucking the arrow out of the wood, "Now try it another twenty meters back. Kesteral did. "Excellent, strait through the middle. Now let's see your close combat," he instructed pointing to the well hacked pole. Kesteral removed her knives and set to it. Adding several more well sized chips with a whirlwind of blades. "Beautiful, you can continue down the line to the final bit of paper work," the fat dwarf commented pointing to an elf and several other men who interviewed and documented several other recruits. Kesteral put her knives back in their sheaths and put her bow on her back before stepping up to a frazzled looking man who was attempting to make sense of a mess of papers.
"Excuse me" she began.
"Oh hello, just a moment," he replied grabbing a quill and the same parchment the tiny annoying man had used from a boy who had just delivered it. "Okay Kesteral, We will be placing you as translator for the kings, but I'm going to need to have you to give us samples of what you can do, introduce yourself to us in each language you know." Kesteral did. "Very nice, do you have any abnormalities we should note, besides your lineage?"
"Nothing except that I'm not a man," Kesteral replied removing her hood. Please don't kick me out she thought.
"Oh, okay," the man said, Kesteral was shocked at his reaction. "That shouldn't be too much of a problem. Just try not to distract any of the men and stay out of any trouble. I don't mind having a female in the ranks, but others might jump at the chance of having you expelled. Report to the grey tent on the right for any other supplies you might need. Your tent will be beside the King's and will have a green flag over it. Your legion is lead by King Ellesar. I'll document your papers and tell the kings that I've found them a translator. Good day," with that he moved on to registering Haradwë who had come just finished his skill test. Kesteral then made her way to the grey tent, trying to decide what she would need.