Gorlakon smiled at that, leaning in to kiss the woman's cheek, "For the glory of Rhudaur and it's people." he said, taking a step back. "The Gallorg will have to join us too, for they share our blood aswell. The war between your tribes was a plot to further enslave the Duvardain, to slay brother, and even further slow the reclaiming of our kingdom. This is enough talk of business, you may remain here for as long as you like, eat, drink, get to know the folk." he said, turning to Yisabelle, smirking, "And this is Yisabelle, forgive me for the late introduction. But she is one of my main companions, and commanders whom I trust."
Zorzimril turned her head slightly when he kissed her cheek, feeling his beard tickle her skin. "We were all Gallorg once, most of us have family on both sides...it would be good to unite them once more." She paused as he spoke of staying, her mind turning back to the blood she had spilled and she reached up, fingering the smooth polished blood stone. Her attention came back as he introduced the woman and the Duvardain captain looked her over, "Well met, I am Zorzimril."
Yisabelle turned her eyes back to the two across from her as she heard her name mentioned. She herself, was not all that tall. Standing at 5'3 exactly without footwear, she was relatively pale as well, possessing sharp, angular features, malachite green eyes, fair hair, and fine brows. Her build seemed thin and lean as well, garbed in hard-leather, padded tunic, and thick leather arm bracers coated in thin sheets of steel. littering her belts, pouches of various items; the spikes of caltrops poked through one. Her features were splattered and tainted by sut, mud, and dried blood. She hefted a fist up, smashing it against her torso before thrusting it straight out and said, “Aye, nice'n all t'meet yew too.”
Zorzimril looked back to Gorlakon, "I'll talk with one of my men and send him back home." As she spoke, her bannerman approached, eyeing the two strangers before clearing his throat. "Captain, I might speak with you."
Yisabelle turned her head, expelling a wad of saliva and the tree sap from her mouth in a spit, before looking back.
Zorzimril walked down the stone steps, to speak with Abrazir. Zorzimril looked at him, "Plans have changed. I need you to return to Donnavail, speak with our chief and tell him..."
"Tell him that these Creoth plan to stab our masters in the back?" he said, his dark eyes flashing. "Some of the Creoth are already drunk and boasting of a great victory for Rhuadar."
She nodded once, "Yes, and I agree. Why be under another master? A King from the West or East? When we can win our own land and be free, as we are meant to be."
Abrazir frowned under the his thick black beard, "I like it not...Angmar is not given to forgiving slights."
"Then they will be dealt with, we know their strength and it is weaker if they do not have the hill tribes. I am tired of our people forced to hunt and feed those foul orcs and train those slavering wargs. Being used as livestock by the Angmarim. We will fight as free men and I believe our uncle will agree."
Abrazir sighed, "And your father?"
She scowled and looked away, "I'll deal with him."
"The Black Sword takes his allegiances seriously," he replied, his bushy brows drawing together.
She ignored him and gestured to the gate, "I want you to ride out, take my horse he is the fastest and tell only the chief of the change of plans. And that our tribes are now united not under the Iron Crown but by an older alliance, of blood and...marriage."
Abrazir's eyes looked sharply at her, "What?"
"You heard me, now go."
The man squared his shoulders, "I would rather stay here with you, cousin. If that man thinks to take you to wife..."
Zorzimril glared at him, "I'm not a child nor a blushing maid. I can handle things here, I need someone I can trust to be sensible and speak with our leader. Do you still serve me?"
Abrazir bowed his head, his dark eyes still holding concern, "Of course, Captain, until my last breath. I will go as you command." Reluctantly he stepped back, shooting a look at Gorlakon and then murmured, "Cut his balls off if he lays a hand on you in temper." She gave him a quick crooked smile as he bowed and departed.
Gorlakon eyed Zorz for a moment, before turning to walk to Yisabelle, smirking as he pat her arm, "Our plan is falling into place. With the Duvardain, we have something over a thousand men added to our cause."
Yisabelle allowed her limbs to relax as Gorlakon approached, looping either thumb underneath the hefty buckle of her sword belt as she looked up with a pearly grin. Rocking to and fro on the spot.
Yisabelle said, 'W'luck then, we'll be stickin' bastards w'our blades real soon.'
Gorlakon nodded at that, grinning. He crossed his arms a moment, biting his lower lip, "We'll play the friend with Angmar for a little while longer. Long enough to plot something together to harm both the Dunedain, and Angmar. Dunedain for the insult of putting themselves as Overlords of Rhudaur, and not giving us the rule. And, well..Aye. All will come together, and all will work."
Yisabelle shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head to the left a short moment before she exhaled sharply, sending a puff of air up into her face as her lips upcurved. A hand lifting to run her fingertips through her scalp, she said “Best not be doubt I'm 'earin there. Ye been a 'ammer rest'a the time, iffin somethin' didn't work, 'ya smashed it together n'made it work. I'd know wouldn't I?”
She snickered quietly, reaching down to yank at a water skin hung from her hip, it wasn't filled with water though.. it was whiskey. She drank from it promptly.
Gorlakon guffawed at that, standing beside her. He eyed Zorzimril with her bannerman, scratching his jaw, "A hammer?" he said, thinking about that for a moment, "I am good at smashing things, no?"
Yisabelle says, 'Eyy, best at it.”
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, before wiping along her lips where some whiskey had escaped her gulps, to then fling the droplets to the ground with a swat of her hand.
Gorlakon chortled, nudging her with an elbow, "Gorlakon, the Hammer of Rhudaur. Got a ring to it." he said with a guffaw, "Though I suppose I ought to think of something more...prestigious."
Zorzimril turned back and walked toward the stone dais, her stride confident as she moved with a warrior's grace.
He looked Zorz over, smiling, "All is well, aye?"
Zorzimril nodded once, "Yes, I have sent my bannerman, he is most trustworthy and will return as soon as possible with word from Domongart." She strokes her chin, "There is another matter I need to discuss with you. On our journey through the moors we were spotted by a Ranger, he killed one of my scouts and stole a horse, fleeing. I wounded him but he escaped. I sent a warg and a tracker after him but they have not returned."
Yisabelle looked down, and pulled a pitifully small blade from a leather scabbard, it was thin and relatively flexible. She began trimming and cleaning beneath her fingernails, flicking whatever dirt she scraped out to the ground.
Gorlakon bit his lower lip at that, grunting. "Ranger." he said, shaking his head, "We will feign a secret alliance with them, as we will with Angmar. We will utilize them in one of the phases of my plan against Angmar, and when all is ready, we dish out some harm to both parties."
Yisabelle soon returned the knife to it's small scabbard, holding that same hand in front of her mouth as she quietly yawned.
Zorzimril raised her eyebrow at him, "You are full of surprises. How do you plan on approaching them?"
Gorlakon tilted his head from left to right, "I have made some friends in Bree." he said, breathing in through his nose, he nudged Yisabelle, "She can play part in finding them as well." he said, smirking. "Once they hear of us to plot against Angmar, no doubt they will wish to seek us out and talk."
Yisabelle looked up as she was prodded and said, 'Rangers eh? Bonnie boys 'ey are. Could be fun, somethin' t'play with while we ain't doin' squat but plannin' n'waitin.'
Gorlakon nodded slowly, turning to Zorzimril, "Then it is settled, no?" he asked, winking at her. "I will give them some grand terms. False of course, but too good for them to refuse. Perhaps even a feast. Slay a large number of them, and we consolidate Rhudaur, while the Rangers are left to lick their wounds, and fight back what is left of Angmar, when we are done.
Zorzimril nodded slowly, "I have to admit, this is nothing like what I had planned on discussing but it is better." She glanced at Yisabelle, a slight smile on her face, "They can be a bit dour."
Gorlakon said, “It is only past time that Rhudaur is rebuilt. That is my main concern.”
Yisabelle arched her back slightly, lifting her hands palms out, as she interlocked her fingers and pressed her hands fourth. Cracking the joints of her fingers loudly, giving a light sigh of content.
Zorzimril looked at him, "There are other things that must be discussed but I am rather hungry and tired from the journey."
Gorlakon says, 'Aye. Follow the path your escort took, to the feasting grounds. No doubt you will bump into your own folk. I for one must speak matters of trade with Yisabelle.”
Yisabelle pivots on the spot, peering upward at Gorlakon with a grin and asked, 'Trade eh?'
Gorlakon looked to Yisabelle, nodding slowly. "Aye. I have some silver for you, in exchange for several things in Bree, come." he said, walking off. He bowed his head to Zorz, and the rest as he made his way past.
Zorzimril put her hands on her hips. "Do not keep me waiting long, we have much to discuss about your proposal."
She turned and moved swiftly down the stairs, striding to the throng of warriors feasting and drinking, one of her men bringing her ale. She sat down, relieved to see fresh food that did not include a dish made from peas.
