Régnwald ...or at least his head, seemed to eerily bob on a plank of wood on the surface of the water. The odd wave splashed over him, his eyes closed, face betraying no life... then suddenly a long sigh of exhaustion and relief...
His eyes flickered open, he blinked, and slowly edged in toward the land, his neck, shoulders, torso inch-by-inch revealed... watched by a lone fisherman on the banks of Anduin, mending his nets.
Régnwald, delirious, pushed aside the wooden plank, limped up onto the ground, trailing seaweed, his shins and thighs burdened by lamprey eels attached to his flesh... He wore a battle-weathered leather tunic, shredded tweed pants, a baldric-strap tying his sheathed sword to his back...
His body, though battered and scarred, was obviously of great power. His wobbly-kneed stagger still managed the grace of the warrior, returning from a struggle which nearly killed him.
Fisherman spoke ''G'day.''
''G'day. I'd owe much to know my whereabouts.''
''Fish shore... But likely I'm the only one who names it that.
...where I get fish.''
The fisherman went to his fire-pit and took from it a smoking stick.
''I mean, how far I am from Stangard?''
The fisherman looked back across the forest, considered it...
''Wel... y'know how these things go.'' As he talked, he indicated various directions and movements with his stick...
''It's half day's ride then?'' asked the warrior with a hint of worry in his eyes.
''I wouldn't bet a fish on that... I had a load of orcs wash up. But they were just corpses.
Will let'm dry out a while then put the whole little crowd to flame.''
The fisherman would then hand him a worn mantle ''Sleep with that, canya?''
''Being an eorling...'' Régnwald nodded ''I'm Régnwald.''
By his look, it was clear he expected his name to register, but -just as clearly- it didn't.
''Régnwald... what, the Eel Meal?'' said the fisherman, nodded to Régnwald's eel-infested shins.
Régnwald looked down, got dizzy and dropped to the ground where he sat.
''You've had another wash up...?
Like myself... name of Hondscioh? And others.''
The fisherman shook his head. As Régnwald talked, he started methodically poking and singeing the eels with the stick. They unclasped from the warrior's bloodied flesh and dropped to the ground, where they squirmed till the fisherman whacked them dead.
''We were out hunting orcs in Hwitholt the other day. We were outnumbered, so drew them to the river. Storm came up and ate our plan with them. We fought. I lost sight of them in the swells.''
The fisherman tried to fathom this.
''So this is just you coming in now?''
Régnwald nodded as the fisherman gave a dubious look.
''Y'ever swum in fierce flow?''
''Leave that to my boat.'' the fisherman answered.
Régnwald stared a beat at the fisherman. ''Am I right to think you mock me?''
The fisherman considered Régnwald's grim manner, and his sword. He started to gather the eels and threw them in a pot.
''Can't see much life in that. You do this a lot?''
''I take what comes.'' Régnwald didn't square his shoulders or let them fall.
''Good. Then you'll have no qualms if supper tastes like you.''
Régnwald stared. The fisherman gave a battered-tooth grin. So the night came in fisherman's hut. He poked at his fire while Régnwald nibbled at a plate of the cooked eels.
''So... what's it like being a drythen?
Quelling things with axes and that sword of yours...
in -what- kind a bloody madness?''
Régnwald chafed slightly ''In truth I don't get all that mad.''
''That's all I've heard of your sort.''
''You should hear what they say about fishermen.''
They traded a wry grin, and the fisherman stirred the fire.
''So... a dryhten, eh? A dryhten for supper.
Béma, don't my shit shine!''
The fisherman noticed Régnwald's squeamishness with the eels. He said ''Eat up. Be yourself!'' eyeing his plate, and then he cackled at his joke.
The other day, Régnwald and the fisherman stood before a rack of dried fish. The fisherman packed some in a small pouch, which he then handed to Régnwald. The warrior clapped him on the shoulder.
''I'm in your debt.''
Fisherman shrugged ''I'm in the fishes.'' and threw a grim look to the water. ''One o' these days, they'll come for theirs.''
''Feel free to visit our Mead-hall in Stangard. You're a friend.
...Good luck. May Foldewyn keep you.''
Régnwald looked out over to the water, torn, then wandered into forest.
