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nelenata
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: January 24, 2007 11:08
“Just your luck I was not expecting anything of the sort, although perhaps it would have been quite amusing, to say the least. I would be highly grateful for the help of a pair of skilled trackers and brains though. I thought maybe to begin by conducting a further search of the area for leads of any sort, and a visit to the town my brother was supposed to have visited, for I am not quite sure he got there at all. If he did, I might be able to acquire more information…?”


Halhigil suppressed a wince. "Skilled brain" was not a way he would ever have described himself. But he wouldn't drag that up, not unless absolutely necessary. Tracking he could certainly deal with, and 'acquiring information' was something of a speciality of his, though more so of Erethien's. "That sounds like a good place to begin," he said aloud. He glanced at Erethien. "Erethien?"

"I know the area. I know people. If we have a lead, I can probably find something out about it, at the least."

"Do not tell me," Halhigil warned.

Erethien chuckled, but there was a sharp edge to it. "My lips are sealed. You will have to take my word for the reliability of my sources if you are intent upon listening blind, as it were."

He looked back at Adele, realising how cryptic much of their exchange must have been. "Erethien is... something of a trader in information," he said, which was a very nice way of putting it. In a bad mood he would have called her a double-crossing spy who sold the secrets of anyone foolish enough to confide in her. "Unfortunately, I have a duty to report her acquaintances should I come to be aware of them, so I generally find it best not to enquire." He raised one eyebrow at his companion. "Erethien has some... less than salubrious acquaintances." Halhigil had met her through his work scouting for Greenwood's intelligence networks, and exercised a certain amount of discretion in turning a blind eye in exchange for valuable information. Spying was far from the only racket Erethien was involved in.

"Now, now, Halhigil." Erethien gave a wolfish grin. "I just know people who know people, that is all."

"Yes, and the rest." He turned back to Adele with a rather wry smile. "Erethien has contacts, and if there are any organised groups involved she can, with luck, find you some answers, but it is best not to enquire as to how or where said answers were obtained. From her earlier comments, I would guess that Nethwen would like to help, but I cannot speak for her. She seems to have vanished." He glanced outside, where the rain beat against the window. "Tracking I believe we can both manage, though it could be interesting in a marshland, in this weather..."

"That will be difficult," Erethien agreed, her strong features made sharper by the flickering, shifting light of the fire. "Two weeks or more have passed, and the rain will hardly have helped matters. But there might yet be traces. You wish to begin immediately?" From the girl's restless fingers, she thought she knew the answer.

"Why was your brother travelling to the town?" added Halhigil. "I hate to sound obvious, but do you know of anyone who bore him this heavy a grudge?"
Sirithros_Lirenel
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: February 03, 2007 06:20
"That sounds like a good place to begin," he said aloud. He glanced at Erethien. "Erethien?"

"I know the area. I know people. If we have a lead, I can probably find something out about it, at the least."

"Do not tell me," Halhigil warned.

Erethien chuckled, but there was a sharp edge to it. "My lips are sealed. You will have to take my word for the reliability of my sources if you are intent upon listening blind, as it were."

He looked back at Adele, realising how cryptic much of their exchange must have been. "Erethien is... something of a trader in information," he said, which was a very nice way of putting it. In a bad mood he would have called her a double-crossing spy who sold the secrets of anyone foolish enough to confide in her. "Unfortunately, I have a duty to report her acquaintances should I come to be aware of them, so I generally find it best not to enquire."


The girl’s eyes widened; the more she heard Halhigil and Erethien talk the more intrigueing they seemed. She had witnessed enough to gather that they had something of a history together, although perhaps not a very friendly one. They made a very interesting pair indeed.

"Now, now, Halhigil." Erethien gave a wolfish grin. "I just know people who know people, that is all."

"Yes, and the rest." He turned back to Adele with a rather wry smile. "Erethien has contacts, and if there are any organised groups involved she can, with luck, find you some answers, but it is best not to enquire as to how or where said answers were obtained. From her earlier comments, I would guess that Nethwen would like to help, but I cannot speak for her. She seems to have vanished." He glanced outside, where the rain beat against the window. "Tracking I believe we can both manage, though it could be interesting in a marshland, in this weather..."

"That will be difficult," Erethien agreed, her strong features made sharper by the flickering, shifting light of the fire. "Two weeks or more have passed, and the rain will hardly have helped matters. But there might yet be traces. You wish to begin immediately?" From the girl's restless fingers, she thought she knew the answer.

"Why was your brother travelling to the town?" added Halhigil. "I hate to sound obvious, but do you know of anyone who bore him this heavy a grudge?"


“Of course!” Adele rose from her seat almost immediately and made for the door in response to Erethien’s inquiry. “I shall ready the horses, if the both of you are not averse to setting out now.”

In her excitement Adele had abandoned most of her usual ceremony. Finally things were going to happen, and for once she would not be content with having to sit on the sidelines. Too long had her mother impressed upon her the duties and obligations of an oldest daughter – the endless organising, and running of things, and looking after people, and generally standing around wringing hands, waiting for the heroes to come home to be pampered. No, this time she, Adele, was going to be the person doing things, and her brother’s murderers would pay! Twice.

[OOC: Hmm you think Adele should run into Jorina at the stables? So we can get things really moving! Apologies for the short post; I promise to take more time in future…]
Autumn_Winds
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: February 08, 2007 01:12
Guests! She should have realised that the moment she heard the commotion out front, if not when she actually set eyes on the foreigners. But there had been much on her mind, of course. Now all the servants had been ordered to work double quick, to get the place in order. How fortunate that the Lady had ordered the house to be cleaned, that morning; but how unfortunate, also, that the young master was not back yet!

The girl had not come back with the clean water, after all. Jorina sighed. People gossiped so much! She didn’t want to know what they thought of the turn of events, didn’t want to hear their speculation, didn’t want to hear them whisper that maybe Fal- the young master, she must remember that, especially now, was… No, she would not think it. If they would only let things well enough alone!

Unwilling to pass by the kitchen, where everyone would be gathered, eager to hear and share opinions and hearsay, Jorina went out the front door instead. The farther she was from those skiving gossip-mongers, the happier she would be. Such a pity the well was so close to the kitchen.

She just wished they would all stop! She didn’t mind them ignoring the work, even if they had been ordered to work quickly. She didn’t mind doing her work on her own, letting her partner have a good chat with the kitchen maids. But the whispering drove her near tears!

___________________________________

Leia rested, alone, in semi-darkness. The servants would be busy cleaning; the housekeeper was not really all that inept. The… visitors would be staying with them, of course; or at least the place had to be ready, in case. At least she did not need to stay visible, to glare the servants into doing that little bit of work. It would be done. That, at least, was a relief; she had been given a little space, a little time to herself.

Adele needed taking in hand, though. Leia dismissed the thought of doing it that night; there was little point in dampening the girl’s drive if she were not willing to take over. The murderer of her son, Faleron, the heir, their hope; he had to be found, yes, but if Adele would go about it with such determination, then a bitter and weary old woman needn’t bother herself about that.

How dare they. How dare they take away Faleron. She was much too old for this. He had not been much of a person, perhaps, but he had had potential. He could have brought them back to glory. Now all they had to show for all those years was nothing. What a waste. Her son. The heir. Nothing. What would her husband say? She had loved him, maybe. He was her child, after all.

But no matter. Adele would forget all about eating, of course. She had to learn to be a better hostess. Life moves on. Adele would marry, and have children. She had to learn to entertain properly. She must marry well.


[OOC: Sorry about being MIA for so long! Am mostly back now. =) Incidentally, can anyone remember what happened to the father? Is he still around? >.<]
LadyJustice
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: February 21, 2007 05:36
Aamor sighed as his boot got stuck in the mud again. With a loud sucking sound he pulled his browned lag from the muck the held it in place.
This is taking forever! He thought. With another exasperated sigh as he pushed his sticky black hair out of his eyes. He was currently making his way back to the dark smoky smithy where he worked. Walking into the blacken lean-to that served as the town blacksmith he set down his bag at the foot of the forge.

“Vittles should never take that long to shove into u’r repulsive face!” Shouted Duwlast the large burly blacksmith, who was also Aamor’s employer.

“Now get to work breathe’n the forge.” Was his last reply before turning back to the horse he was shoeing.

“My face! You should see yourself sir!” Aamor whispered as he started to stoke the fire. Knowing that he probably did look dirty and sweaty.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched the bent Duwlast at his work. His ugly face full of knots and bumps, was screwed in hard concentration as he cut away at the frog of an old mare.
He is a hard man. Was the conclusion the Aamor came to. Solid on the outside and a layer of brick on the inside. However, this could not keep Aamor of respecting if not even loving the man. He was the closes thing he had ever had to a father. It was Duwlast who had taken him under is rocky wing of protection and given him the knowledge he needed to live. Of coarse Duwlast’s knowledge was very different then most. The Knowledge that “You willed yourself to become what you wanted to be“. This was he favorite proverb that he had taught him.
Aamor’s face winced as he once again began to think of his real parents. [i]The truth is I have know idea about them whatsoever![/i]T He thought, as he tried to focus on the task at hand. He had, as far as he knew, never had known his parents. He lived with an old couple who had taken him in when he was to young to remember. They where good to him. They fed and clothed him and he worked everyday at the forge for his keep. Only going there at nights and during noontime for dinner. The only thing he knew of his past was the fact that he was Rohideric by birth.

Aamor’s stomach growled. It was still another six hours before he would be able to eat again.


(( Sorry it took me so long to post :cool)
LadyJustice


[Edited on 21/2/2007 by LadyJustice]
Sirithros_Lirenel
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: February 23, 2007 02:30
[OOC: I post!]

Even as the impetuous Adele raced uncremoniously out the back door towards the stables her mind had settled upon a most possible suspect – the lowest house girl, what was her name again? Jemima? Joline? Ah, yes, Jorina. The quiet little thing had always rankled more than a little on Adele’s nerves, but really! She was so cringingly subservient, always so ready and willing, so… creepily docile! And that was hardly in a good way, for although Adele liked the family servants to know their place, there was just something about Jorina which rubbed Adele in the wrong direction. Every timid, quavering “Yes, miss” or “Yes, sir” just came out like a subtle snub, every time she glided into the room so silently and performed her chores without uttering a single sound, her movements almost mechanical, her expression blank and nearly lifeless; it unsettled Adele, for how could anyone be that way unless that someone had something to hide?!

And most important of all, Jorina had always been her brother’s favourite. When he was home that girl hardly left his side, and he seemed to enjoy her service – or (Adele’s eyes narrowed menacingly) was it her *company*? It was well near unnatural; Faleron had never ever taken any such interest in any of the other serving staff before. Before Jorina had come along, never had Adele’s brother, who was easily as haughty and conceited as she, endured any servant to stay in the same room as himself longer than it took to serve him, let alone granted any favours to anybody apart from herself, his younger sister Adele. Oh he thought she didn’t know, but Adele had seen him save small sweetmeats for that particular serving-girl – for although her mother might sometimes favour a servant with a tasty treat, it was something nigh unheard of for Faleron to do – and on occasions he had *talked* to her! Not just to tell her to do something, but Adele had actually overheard him ask her how the day had gone! Why that little upstart… How Jorina had wormed her way into her brother’s good graces Adele was not to know, but now she thought she knew why! She was an agent of some outside force, planted into the household to orchestrate the family’s downfall starting with her brother! Or perhaps she had sought personal gain, secretly courting the handsome young master, and then she had fallen out of favour and plotted revenge…

As if to confirm Adele’s hunch, as she burst through the heavy oak door into the grim courtyard who did she espy but Jorina herself, huddled in the corner by the well, looking grey and miserable as death itself. The sight was all it took. In a flurry of emerald velvet and flaming red curls she launched herself at the serving girl, eyes alight with the fury she had managed to work up in the last hour or so, fingers extended like elegantly manicured claws to grasp the unfortunate girl tightly by the shoulders and back her against the stone walls of the compound.

“You did it, or at least you know about this!” she ground out through gritted teeth. “You plotted his death, didn’t you?!”
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: February 23, 2007 09:28
He’s not dead, he’s not dead.

He’s not dead.

He *can’t* be dead; he said he’d be back; he said he’d bring her a little something. He *promised*.

He said he cared.

But that had been a lie, hadn’t it! He *lied*.

Consumed by grief, Jorina slumped against the well, hating herself for loving him. She had never told him so, of course: What servant dares fall in love with her master? But she had loved him nonetheless; she had even dared to think that he might possibly feel the same; and that, that was the reason for this miserable state of affairs. She had no one to blame but herself for her hurt, for her anger, for her *anguish*, and so she was the reason why Faleron was now… missing.

In a flurry of emerald velvet and flaming red curls she launched herself at the serving girl, eyes alight with the fury she had managed to work up in the last hour or so, fingers extended like elegantly manicured claws to grasp the unfortunate girl tightly by the shoulders and back her against the stone walls of the compound.

“You did it, or at least you know about this!” she ground out through gritted teeth. “You plotted his death, didn’t you?!”


Did the girl read minds! Jorina’s thoughts tumbled over one another in her panic. She couldn’t – her mother – no – she didn’t –

Death?

“He’s not dead!” she cried. Her eyes had widened in panic and horror, but now they returned to normal. Her fevered thoughts denied his death; he couldn’t be dead! She repeated, whispering, “He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead. He’s not dead.”

Some instinct for self-preservation told her she should never have spoken to the young mistress in such a way, and so she added in a “Forgive me, miss; I’m sorry, miss; but he’s not dead!”

She would pay for such an indiscretion later, of course. One never spoke to one’s betters in such a tone of voice. One never disagreed with one’s betters. She couldn’t afford to offend the young mistress. But he wasn’t dead!

Jorina didn’t struggle to free herself; she didn’t protest. She simply closed her eyes and waited. Faleron was not dead. He would come, and he would save her, protect her. She would apologise for being angry with him. She would tell him she didn’t mind him spending time with other women. If she tried to control him, she would lose him, so, yes, if it would make him willing to spend *some* time with her, she really didn’t mind. She didn’t mind. So long as he wasn’t dead. She didn’t mind anything, if he was with her.
nelenata
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: March 03, 2007 06:58
((Sincerest apologies for the delay in posting!!))

On silent feet, the two Elves followed Adele's dash outside to the stables. Erethien was torn between amusement at the girl's impulsive leap to do something, anything, and a grudging admiration for her sheer determination. From what she had seen of mortals, there were few girls (or young women - how old was Adele?) so bold and firm of purpose. 'Ai. If she marries, as surely she will, her husband will have a merry time of it.' The elleth somehow doubted that Adele would bow to her husband's will, as it seemed that many mortal Men expected of their wives.

Halhigil glanced at Erethien, guessing her thoughts from the faint upward twitch of her mouth. "It is not always a good thing," he said to her in Sindarin, his gaze keen and saying more than his tongue did. "You should know that."

Erethien shook her head. She was accustomed to being unfathomable, and Halhigil's ability to read her face unnerved her. "I? Hasty?"

Halhigil didn't dignify her comment with an answer. Erethien was a liability. A reckless, hasty liability with a nasty temper, who was too strong for her own good or for that of those around her. They both knew it.

Adele was beginning to remind Halhigil of Erethien, which to one who had known the elleth for many years, was a deeply worrying thing. Jump in with both feet, lash out at the first thing fool enough to move, never watch your back and never, never give any quarter...

He had seen where that path led. And it was only that knowledge that could have made him speak when Adele flew at the servant girl, fire in her eyes and bitter, wrathful accusation in her words. It was not his way to intervene - not his way to offer his thoughts without invitation.

"Adele," he said. "Adele, what has this girl done? Why do you say this?"

The words were quiet, but somehow heavy: blocks of granite lowered carefully to the ground in comparison to Adele's fast-flung pebbles. Erethien recognised that deliberate, measured tone; it was the one he used with her, when she was teetering on the brink of the drop into mad, blind rage. Stop. Wait. Look at me. Listen to the words. Consider them. Think. Then respond.

The girl's face was white and miserable, and Erethien caught the barely perceptible, fearful widening of her eyes at Adele's accusation. The elleth's own eyes narrowed fractionally, but not in condemnation. Minus the semi-hysteria, the girl was reminding her forcibly of someone else when cornered and unable to roundly deny what was, despite a grain of truth, a false charge. It was the classic wretched, hunted look - the rabbit caught in a sudden bright light, the I-know-something-but-I-could-never-ever-tell-you glint of fear in the eyes.

But Erethien said nothing. She watched and she listened.
Sirithros_Lirenel
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: March 17, 2007 05:52
Spot on. She was right, then. Adele suppressed a mirthless smirk as she caught the imperceptible widening of the other girl’s eyes, and what little colour there was left drained from Jorina’s face.

“He’s not dead!” she cried. Her eyes had widened in panic and horror, but now they returned to normal. Her fevered thoughts denied his death; he couldn’t be dead! She repeated, whispering, “He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead. He’s not dead.”


Beneath Adele’s extended talons Jorina slumped back against the wall, and behind her she felt rather than heard Halhigil and Erethien rushing into the courtyard on silent feet. Well now, perhaps now that they were *all* here she could drag the wench out to see her brother’s body. It was too good to be true; she’d caught the culprit first try, and now she would be rid of Jorina’s unnerving presence once and for all!

Halhigil’s voice cut into her train of thought, dissipating thoughts of what Adele meant to do to Jorina once the servant girl was officially found guilty.

"Adele," he said. "Adele, what has this girl done? Why do you say this?"


Had he been anybody else, Adele would have done what she usually did – that was, to ignore him and continue attempting to throttle an instant confession out of the petrified Jorina – but the ellon’s words seemed to carry much more weight than anyone else’s ever had, and they sank heavily into her consciousness, forcing her to slowly release the pressure on Jorina’s shoulders, and turn marginally to face him although she still kept a firm, threatening hand on the other girl.

“I have reason to believe she’s behind my brother’s murder.” she turned a bit of her glare onto Halhigil as well, for she highly resented the ability he had to make her feel foolish and impetuous and small, the way nobody had since she was… a lot younger. “Look, she’s been cosying up to my brother, and he likes her like he’s never liked any other servant, and she’s always creeping around the house like the rat she is, always so meek and quiet and innocent – how can she not be hiding something?!! The wench has guilt written all over her now!”

She was, by now, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in the manner of an impatient child. Couldn’t they see it *had* to be Jorina? And couldn’t they see she *needed* to do something, and do it *now*?!

[OOC: Ahhhh *attempts to revive thread*]
nelenata
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Post RE: A Shallow Grave (PM/see OOC, please - semi-scripted.) Keep, please.
on: March 28, 2007 10:16
((My God, I'm going mad! I was sure I'd posted! I must have dreamt it... this is actually quite scary! :S Senile at 17... Apologies for the delay!!))

“I have reason to believe she’s behind my brother’s murder.” She turned a bit of her glare onto Halhigil as well, for she highly resented the ability he had to make her feel foolish and impetuous and small, the way nobody had since she was… a lot younger. “Look, she’s been cosying up to my brother, and he likes her like he’s never liked any other servant, and she’s always creeping around the house like the rat she is, always so meek and quiet and innocent – how can she not be hiding something?!! The wench has guilt written all over her now!”


It was with great restraint that Erethien kept the laughter from her face, almost as much at the look Adele threw Halhigil as at her words. She's so meek and quiet and innocent - she must be guilty! I do love your reasoning, you slip of a girl who have such a fire in your blood. You would do well to think a little before you fling your accusations around. "You say she looks innocent, so she must be guilty?" Erethien repeated, just barely keeping a straight face.

"Erethien, dîn," Halhigil said almost curtly in his own tongue. "If you cannot be civil, kindly be silent. This is not the time."

He saw her open her mouth to retort, but switched to Westron and continued before she said something truly unfortunate. "Have you any further evidence? Forgive me if what I say is foolish -- I am not familiar with the situation -- but I find it difficult to see meekness and diffidence as signs of guilt. To my eyes she looks more distressed than guilty." He paused, gaze lingering on the servant girl, who was slumped against the wall, ashen pale and whispering wretchedly to herself.

He felt a surge of sympathy. Distressed, certainly. Something to hide? Probably. Guilty? Possibly. But from what she was whispering, he doubted it. Even the best actress would be doing well to be that convincing. "Something to hide is not the same as being guilty of murder. As far as my own experience goes, being on friendly terms with someone does not usually predispose one to murder them," he observed mildly. Again, he looked at the maid. "Perhaps it would be an idea to let the maiden compose herself before she is made to defend herself." He doubted anyone would get much sense out of her at prsent.
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