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Eldarion
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Post 'From the Fog of Osgiliath' - (See OOC to join)
on: September 24, 2013 05:30
OOC - http://www.councilofelrond.com/forum/thread/36583/page/1/

As the Anduin curls around end of the White Mountains, it begins to slope upwards, splitting a beautifully green plain, smooth and flat for miles on end. Straddling this deep river lay Osgiliath. What once was an assortment of rubble and half-ruined stone structures, had become once more a shining river city, expanding outward and becoming a wide berth of land covered in richly colored flagstones and superbly mortared stone buildings. The population is diverse and quite numerous. Re-population had clearly not been an issue. Deep within this city lied the port, the source of life for thousands...



FROM THE FOG OF OSGILIATH

The sun chose to blaze quite harshly that afternoon. Despite the practically unbearable late-summer heat, ships continued to ferry into the docks fully loaded with goods both exotic and domestic from Dol Amroth. From one of these ships, and a relatively battered one at that, poured forth a line of weary looking sailors, many under-nourished and all unshaven and most reeking. One of the better smelling was younger than most, by at least a few winters. He looked it too, as his stubble was more even and his browned skin full of vitality. His lean, fit body was clad averagely in a pair of brown trousers sporting a leather belt affixed with a sheathed short sword and a surprisingly clean white tunic tucked beneath aforementioned belt. The man's sandal clad feet tore him away from the throng and into the streets, his satchel filled with gold from plunder.

Despite the traffic of the markets, it was quiet. Not strangely so, but no voices rose above the din of business. The soft clink of coins, the dull thud of crates, the shuffling of feet. The newly paid pirate made for a prosperous looking vendor of fruits. It was a brief transaction that resulted in a slightly fatter purse on one end and a full stomach upon the other. "Mind your step," the merchant had said in farewell, to which the pirate bowed his head before turning heel.

After a brief walk through the crowds, the city opened to a large clearing filled with tents and makeshift shacks housing more established vendors. One of the nearest, sheltered by a massive brown structure of latticework and felt, forming what could be described as a yurt.

"Merenor! Hullo! It has been a fortnight since your last visit! Are you here for work while you are in Osgiliath?" asked a wizened old man of graying hair and hunched back.

"For now, I shall be. This will be a longer period between ventures than usual. I suppose I shall be needing consistent work." Merenor had no idea of the gravity of his decision and how his stay in Osgiliath would evolve considerably beyond the dull job of a merchant of tobacco leaf.

"Do not fret, product has been arriving in mass lately! I have more barrels than I know what to do with! The stall will need plenty of attention." The old merchant grinned toothlessly. Merenor was used to the monotony of selling pouches of tobacco at the old stall outside of the yurt. And so his afternoon would be spent...



((I decided to be brief with my character's intro as my internet is acting up and it is getting late. NONETHELESS, the thread is started and we can go from here.))

[Edited on 09/25/2013 by Eldarion]
Ella
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on: September 25, 2013 06:29
The sun was shining brightly that afternoon. People in Minas Tirith were running their usual lives without trouble. A young woman was watching the daily life throw the arcades of the gardens in the Healing Houses. She was wearing an emerald green dress, with long and wide sleeves and some silver details in opposition to her auburn long hair. Her green eyes were looking to the distant city of Osgiliath. Since she couldn’t get away from the city, her thoughts were right there. She wanted to see the river and feel its flowing; she wanted to meet the people who trade all the goods they received from outside; to hear about all the corners of Middle-Earth. However, she couldn’t.

“Scarlett!” Someone called. She sighed seeing her mother approaching. “Go to your father and give him this.” She handed her a package with few weight. It was probably his dinner. “I do not have time to hand it myself.” The young woman nodded as she began walking away.

Lately there were many people who were sicker and sicker in the city. She was worried about it since there was a risk of infection. She headed to the top of the city where Seth, captain of Gondor and her father usually was. When she reached there, she saw a couple of men talking fast and concerned. She walked to them. “Captain,” she made a slight bow. “There you go.” She handed him the package and started to return.

He looked at her and said “Scarlett, my dear, it is not the best time. Please, return to your mother and tell her I am leaving soon.”

“Where to?” The woman looked at him with her eyes wide open.

“It is not of your concerning.” He answered as he went inside with the rest of the men.

Scar felt upset and revolted. Why? she thought. Why it is never of my concern? Why can’t I walk away, be free, as everyone. It’s like we’re still in war yet we aren’t. She was tired of being imprisoned in her own city. She returned to her mother and gave her the news.

“I am going to rest. Please, do not bother me, mother.” She asked. Stella was worried about the situation yet gave her permission to go.

However, she wasn’t going to rest. The truth was she was running away. She packed a few clothes, her weapons and some food. She dressed a silver cloak over the dress, braided her hair and put the wood so no one could recognize her.

The sun was setting as she moved to the stable where the family horses were and prepared one. After it, she walked to the gates. In the moment she was outside, she mounted it and galloped to Osgiliath. She had a smile on her face as she felt the wind on her face and finally the freedom she always desired.

It was almost nightfall when she arrived. She didn’t put off her hood since someone could recognize her. She walked to the river where some last exchanges were being made. She remained hidden in the shadows, observing carefully everything. She was truly delighted.
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wolfbladequeen
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on: September 25, 2013 01:43
It was night, and Fay was relieved of her duties. She was only seventeen years of age, but she had worked as a maid for five years already. The family were kind, but in a pitying way; they looked down on those with lesser wealth and social standing. Their ways were posh, and as such they spoke to their servants almost obnoxiously. Fay felt she could be more than this, but it was somewhere to start from. Every great person had a small beginning - except for those born as royalty. Mayhap they proved themselves in battle, but they were provided with ample chances to do so. What opportunity did she have to do deeds worthy of her ancestors, whoever they might have been.
Her father refused to tell her of any family. Her mother had not told her anything for a long time, and Fay often wished that she was still around. Her father had been softer on her then, and more loving. Now he had no time for her.
Thus she thought as she walked through the town, keeping her head down so as not to be noticed. But behind her curtain of wild blonde hair, her blue eyes sparkled in joy. It was nightime! She loved the dark, loved the quiet, loved the feeling of freedom brought by the cool air. She longed to dance through the streets, to run, to seek adventure. She wished she might visit the elves of the old tales, if any remained.
But the life of an adventurer was not for her. She turned away from the beacon of the moon, from the beckoning of the stars, into the small cottage she shared with another poor family. She paid her respects to their grandmother, then bade farewell to that day, hoping the next would bring some change.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
Eldarion
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on: September 25, 2013 09:56
It was a sweltering afternoon in the marketplace of Osgiliath. The sun was persistent in it's onslaught of port city. Merenor found himself gracefully shadowed beneath the awning of the tobacco stall, dressed coolly in loose, short cut trousers and an open tunic. Business was slow and that, combined with the heat, made for a drowsy afternoon. It was honest pay which he could not turn down. But the sheer dullness was enough to drive a man mad.

His eyelids drooped and the irises lost their focus. He drifted off for a few moments before waking with a start. "Off to the well," the man murmured, climbing off his oaken stool and meandering to a nearby well which accessed a water table branching off of the river. It was cool and fresh. One could feel the insides practically sigh with relief.

Merenor found himself back at the stall after a short walk through the market. The flow of potential customers had not increased. Again, he began to doze in the sticky heat of the afternoon. The eyelids drooped and the world blurred. Through hazy vision he saw a figure approach...


((Sorry for the short reply, busy day. One of you can be the said blurry character, or not. Either way is perfectly fine. I just didn't want to hold anyone up!))

[Edited on 09/26/2013 by Eldarion]
Ella
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on: September 26, 2013 07:34
Scarlett was watching every single walk from the stalls to the market. It seemed a very busy city with all the merchants running around. Suddenly, she focused a man who seemed familiar to her. Maybe he’s one of my father’s soldiers. She thought.

However, he didn’t look like a soldier. She decided to follow him in the shadows, unnoticed. He walked from the port, through the market and ended up returning to a stall. He looked tired and Scar saw he was almost fainting. She spent too many time on the Healing Houses to know when a person was ill or feeling bad.

She approached silently but quickly, worried about that man she didn’t know. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered and to return to Minas Tirith so she didn’t take off her hood. The man fainted and she knelt in his side, taking a flask with fresh water of her cloak. She grabbed a piece of cloth, soaked it into the water and laid it gently on the man’s forehead.

As he was opening his eyes, the hood slid revealing her braided auburn hair and her greenish eyes. Panic filled her expression as she quickly put it back again.

“How are you feeling?” She asked in a whisper, trying not to seem worried. “You should take a break of work, and rest.”
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wolfbladequeen
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on: September 27, 2013 06:46
Fay brushed off the visible signs of dust and straw, although the pungent smell of horse dung would linger on, most likely until her weekly wash. This did not matter, however, because her only companion was well used to the conditions of the stables. She plaited his mane to keep it out of the way, then went to fetch his bridle. She stumbled, and he whinnied impatiently. Even the animals were her superiors.
He belonged to the young daughter of the family Fay worked for, but she barely took an interest in him, so one of her duties was to excercise him. She was a light rider, and at first he had found this disconcerting compared to his stockier owners, but now he seemed to have warmed to her; at least, he never shied away any more.
She must have been an odd sight, riding round the edge of Osgiliath, a small peasant girl dressed in grey rags mounted on a powerful, well-groomed horse with a gleaming bridle. But the occupants of the city were accustomed to her presence, so only newcomers and travellers paused in their work to watch her pass. It was a warm day, so when they reached the well she dismounted to allow the horse a drink, and scrape the sweat off his heaving flanks.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
Eldarion
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on: September 28, 2013 01:31
The figure swam in his distorted line of sight, faded, and altogether disappeared as he went blank.

He had no concept of time until a cool water trickled down his tanned, overheated skin. This brought him rushing back to reality and his eyes popped open. Through obscured vision, a result of the sun's very inconvenient angle, he could now see only a young, red-haired girl with strikingly emerald eyes, hooded. She spoke to him. It sounded as if from a dream. A moment's pause perforated their newly begun conversation as Merenor pulled himself from the ground. "A break...certainly."

The din of the market returned to his ears, along with his general awareness for the surroundings. Focus remained, though, on the girl. "You have my thanks. Sometimes I forget myself in this heat, though I should be used to it. But the long days of a merchant cause the mind to wander and I'm not cut out for it. My days should be spent on the sea."

"Forgive me, my musings caught the best of me again. I am Merenor...sailor for the crown," he added in at the end, although not altogether truthful of his profession. It didn't seem wise to casually inform another that he was an experienced pirate. The lifestyle was frowned upon.

He paused, an idle hand reaching down to feel for his water skin. It was, as to be expected, empty. That meant a trip to the well. "Ah, empty. Would you like to accompany me to the well? It is a short walk and I could use the conversation?"
Ella
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on: September 28, 2013 02:12
The man stood up looking somewhat better than before. He thanked her and explained the breakdown. A smile was drawn in her lips when she observed his rich brown eyes. “You should rest more so you don’t have collapses. This heat can be fatal.”

She put back the flask of water and the cloth, before she introduced herself. “I am Scarlett.” She stopped for a while. If her parents discovered her there, it would be an unpleasant problem. “I moved here recently.” She was wary to talk about her yet she nodded when asked her to accompany him to the well. “Surely I will.”

The sound of the fussy market made the talking dificult. Walking side by side, they reached the well. There could still be heard the noisy people yet the environment was calmer. The woman adjusted the hood again to be sure no one would recognize her. As the cold water touched her lips, she felt refreshed.

“Have you travelled along the Great River of Wilderland?” She asked while refilling her flask, seeking to quench her thirst for knowledge.
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wolfbladequeen
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on: October 13, 2013 08:15
Fay noticed a man who was suffering badly from the heat. He was the fifth she had seen over the past few days. The sun was not usually so persistent in its onslaught of the cities. The ground would quickly become dry and infertile, although the river was of some aid there. There was little wind to bring relief to the exhausted stall keepers and field workers, who were exposed to the elements without the privilege of retreating inside. Fevers would soon become commonplace. Disease spreads easily and is hard to contain at these times. It would take a single case of some sort of plague for the whole of Osgiliath to be infected. A quarantine such as that would surely last for years. She would never be able to travel Middle-Earth. Also, in her experience, heatwaves tended to be pursued by bitter winters.
Luckily, the horse in her charge was of fine stock, and not so susceptible to sun stroke. She rode him slowly back to his stable. She had only exercised him gently, but she felt that her masters would not be pleased if they found their horse to be overworked.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
Arveleg
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on: November 16, 2013 12:59
"Osgiliath! End of the run!"The boatswain yelled as he prepared the ropes. The captain looked for an open quay, but the city was quite busy. The portmaster waved him off toward the east side of the river where a few open quays remained.

Khaloch gathered his duffel and slung it over his shoulder, waiting for the gangplank to be laid. Stepping off, he swayed as he took his first steps on solid ground. The east side of the city, having been occupied much longer in the years before the war still showed a couple signs of the wreckage that had come to the city. Strong new stone buildings had been built, but here on the north edge, there were still piled broken rubble that the overgrowth was claiming. But here had been much progress, and after the new stone bridge was completed, the city again became one. Khaloch considered a small inn he walked past, and decided to turn around and go in.

"Need a room for a few days." Khaloch said to the innkeeper who didn't seem to take notice of his entry. He said without looking up from his woodworking,

"Six silvers for three days. Comes with bread and butter. meals and drinks are extra."

"SIX? Here?"
Khaloch said looking around the place. The innkeeper looked up at Khaloch and said,

"There is the late summer market going on this week. You're welcome to go elsewhere, but you will find it will cost more."

"Six for three days... better be secure."
Khaloch said as he laid out some coin. The innkeeper wasted no time scooping them up.

"Room seven, end of the hall." the innkeeper said as he set an old key in place of the coin. Khaloch took it and walked away. The room wasn't much. A square with a straw bed and a small table and chair by the window. It would do for now.

Having got himself set, he set out for the bridge to go to the west side to see what the markets had to offer. He took with him some things he had brought north in hopes of selling them. He was starting to see the end of his contract pay.

Walking along the riverfront, the air was somewhat cooler, but so too the bugs were thicker. He came to a stair that led up to the bridge. It was a fair climb, but having spent so long in the far reaches of Harad carrying all his military gear, the heat and humidity he took in stride. It was obvious though that many people local to the city was not used to such heat.

The markets were busy but subdued, with every bit of shade filled with people. He looked about the stalls and talked with a few of the proprietors, but he soon realized that it would be difficult for him to sell his wares this day. he instead gathered the feel of this northern land. An old blind man sat at his stall, sweating profusely. Khaloch offered him some water, and he gladly drank. He then said,

"I thank thee for this drink. Know that the heat of this late summer will push into Autumn, and then winter comes. Cold it will be, like none in many long years." He then handed Khaloch some gloves. Khaloch looked at them, unsure what they were for. But he would keep them as a token of this city Osgiliath. He managed to slip a silver coin silently on the table and walked away.

Khaloch thought about what the man said for a moment. He hadn't considered the cooler months. At least they were cooler down south. Here, they may be really cold. He looked at the gloves before putting them in a pocket onhis vest. He would have to prepare. He was going to have to see about finding work. But right now, his waterskin was near empty. Seeing the spring well was one of the more popular places to be, even moreso than a nearby tavern, he waited in the que to refill his waterskin.
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
findemaxam48
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on: November 19, 2013 02:52
Raegan wandered slowly down the back streets of Osgiliath, her gaze empty of emotion or even the knowledge of those around her. Even now, the sounds of the city seemed dull, as if someone had taken all of them, placed them into a bag, and then tightly bound the top before tossing it carelessly into the sea. Yet still, they called, reaching the surface of the world and interacting, but not quite reaching the girl called Raegan.

She absentmindedly swirled the dried and dead ends of her hair around her index finger. Her feet warily tread over the long since discarded fragments of a food vendors cart, but nothing hindered her. Like a ghost, she continued on, towards the phantom that was her father.

He kept dancing away from her, then coming closer, so she could nearly brush his coat with her fingertips, and then at the last moment, would dart away into the clouds before emrging minutes later to play the game again.

"Silly father,"Raegan whispered to herself. "Why will you not come home?"

A woman heard her whisper, and then glared at her. She quickly gathtered her three children and swept them away, revealing an elderly shopkeeper. He looked at Raegan with pity in his watery eyes, and then extended out a worn hand. In the hand lay half a loaf of bread. As Raegan started to pass him by, seeming to not notice him, he said with a voice like pebbles, "Here, girl."

Raegan took it without expressing thanks, but she clutched it to her side like a lifeline. Alas, in her second of distraction, she had lost track of Father, and he was now gone. Raegan shook her head slightly to clear it, and then returned to the main road that would take her towards the center of town. Her throat felt like parchment, and she desired to quench her thirst.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Ella
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on: November 19, 2013 05:44
A day has already passed and Scarlett never saw that man again. She managed to escape from Minas Tirith, yet she didn’t know what to do next. The evening was drawing near so she needed to find a place to stay and rest. After about two hours, she found a cozy tavern where she thought it was a good place to stay. With her hood covering her long auburn hair, she entered the room and asked a room to the innkeeper. She didn’t want anyone to discover her. There were many Gondor soldiers around so they might know who she was. He gave her a key and she kept her clothes there. Then she left again, to the well she had been the day before. She saw a long line and she thought it wouldn’t be wise to simply go there. She waited in the shadows trying not to be seen.
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wolfbladequeen
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on: November 20, 2013 01:37
Fay watched the girl pass. She had never bothered to find out her name, but she liked to watch the girl who seemed to walk a different set of streets, in some city where all others were as ghosts to her. She saw how others pitied the girl, but all she could feel for her was jealousy. That girl was free, though perhaps not in her mind. Fay had to work hard and still people sneered at her, but no one showed anything but kindness for the girl.
Her duties were over, for a short while, but she still had responsibility for her family and neighbours, so she left the shadows and stepped out into the heat with only a bucket and a coin with which to buy bread. One loaf, for three families. Hopefully it would last a few days, but her kind heart led her to give food to those who asked it of her, sometimes even food she could not afford to give. Her father punished her for this, but she received worse beatings.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
findemaxam48
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on: November 21, 2013 03:21
On her way to the spring well, Raegan paused to watch the girl with the wild hair work. In her private mind, she had since dubbed her Wild Hair, because of the mass of blonde that framed her young face. She couldn;t have been much older than Raegan herself, but yet she did not wander after phantoms as she did. Then again, not many did, as Raegan wonted them too. Chasing phantoms could be a pleasurable experience, but one that required every ounce of devotion in a body. That, many did not have.


Not for the first time, Raegan contemplated chasing after the girl, asking her to show her new places where ghosts may be hiding, just because she looked kind. That said, she did not understand why she had seen people come and hit Wild Hair over the head, just because of a dropped bucket or loaf of bread. At the sight of every beating, the prospect of even searching for a job becasme abbhorent to Raegan.

With her eyes still on Wild hair, Raegan took her place behind a tall man who clutched his waterskin.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Arveleg
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on: November 21, 2013 09:17
Khaloch filled his water skin and quickly stepped out of the way as he drank some. The cool spring water felt good as it went down. Securing it to his belt, he looked at the line. A young, thin woman that was behind him had stepped to the well. He hesitated and said,

”Allow me miss, I can bring the bucket up for you.”

It was the least he could do for the young lady. Though it was common practice to assist the women at the wells in the far south, he was unsure about the customs here in the cities of Gondor. The well had been used heavily this hot day and the bucket had to go deeper to get water and the bucket was only half filled when it came up.

He looked around in hopes nobody noticed this. He saw a woman who for a moment seemed familiar to him, but looking back she did not. She was keeping to the shade of the building and was hard to see. Maybe she wanted to get to the well since she was looking that way? He turned and looked back down the line. So far it had been orderly, but it was the hottest part of the day. If the well ran low there could be troubles. The city guard was watching, but they did not want to stand out in the sun any more than anyone else. Hopefully they have this all in order. Khaloch thought, not realizing he was mumbling to himself as he looked toward the nearby tavern,

”Worry not Khaloch, you are in the heart of the realm, not some desert outpost on the borderlands. There will be peace here, so do not be so guarded.”

Looking back he then noticed that the woman in the shadow was slyly avoiding being seen by two passing city guards. He thought of walking over toward the tavern that wasn’t far from where she stood as he eyed the open door. The lady he had assisted was finished with the water bucket, and Khaloch let it drop back down and gave her a slight bow.
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
Ella
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on: November 22, 2013 06:36
There were city guards all over the place and Scarlett was becoming afraid of staying there. Two odd girls were around and she thought they might be sick because of her actions. Even if they looked like they were poor, they were beautiful and made her want to approach and meet them.

Suddenly, she noticed a man on the line looking at her direction. She slightly pulled her hood to cover a little more of her face. Her green eyes focused the two guards as she stepped back avoiding to be seen. If she was discovered it was all over. She sighed and as she looked again at the line, she saw the same tall man with short black hair looking at her direction. Maybe she was caught. She glanced at him as he helped the other girl filling her bucket.

She looked behind her. There was a tavern where she could buy something to drink. Afraid of being seen she quickly got inside and sat in a corner. As the innkeeper walked to her she asked for a fresh drink.
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findemaxam48
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on: November 22, 2013 09:31
Raegan took the bucket from the man in front of her. "Thank you," she said. Though she was used to the pity of others, but the gesture of kindness always warmed her. Especially since she was used to handouts from the same people everyday. But here was a stranger, offering to get her a drink, although they had never spoken before.

She drank, and the water was warmer than the outside air. Her lank hair clutched the back of her neck in a sheen of sweat. As she replaced the bucket, it splashed for a moment before connecting with a barren ground. She paused for a moment, but then walked away, wandering into a tavern. A ghost had just ran in there.But it was so crowded, and ghosts hate noise.

Raegan sat in a seat adjacent to the corner, opposite from the one who seemed to be an innkeeper. After a moment, he moved, and Raegan was able to see a girl with long red hair and piercing eyes. Raegan quickly ducked her head before her critical gaze could fall upon her.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Arveleg
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on: November 24, 2013 01:15
Khaloch nodded to the woman as she said thanks. She made her way toward the tavern, and Khaloch thought of doing the same. But he saw a young woman in grey tattered dress trying to buy some bread at the bakery. There seemed to be some discussion over price, and Khaloch guessed the baker may have raised prices due to the markets and the demand for bread. He decided to step over to the bakery. Once he was close enough, he had guessed right. It seemed the lady had planned on the price being the same as the days before, but she was one copper short. Stepping up next to her, he said to the baker,

”Give the lady her bread and I will pay one copper extra for mine.”

“I’m afraid it does not work that way my friend.”


Khaloch looked over at the young woman, whose blond hair fluttered in swirls in the breeze that had briefly came up. She looked at him with eyes wide open. They were the colour of the partly-clouded sea, appearing blue, yet more grey. He paused in their gaze only for a brief moment. Khaloch wasn't sure if she was unsure of him and his appearance, or angry at the baker for raising his price this day, or afraid a fight might start. Probably she just wanted to eat and feed people dependent on her and her hard work. Khaloch turned back to the baker as he let a coin fall from his hand. It hit the woman on the foot before rolling slightly in the grass. Khaloch said to the baker,

”Very well then. I will not buy any of your bread. You are a greedy man.”

He turned and walked away towards the tavern. He looked over his shoulder briefly, giving the woman a slight smile and wink, letting her know he had dropped the coin for her so she could buy the bread. He didn’t look back again to see if she did pick it up and pay for the bread, but he hoped she did.

Walking up to the door of the small tavern, he looked back to to see if he could see the woman at the bakery, but he could not. Too many other people were walking by. So he stepped inside the open door. it was dark and he squinted to see. It was cooler being in the shade, but it was stuffy and sticky. He ordered a beer at the bar and sipped it. It will do. He then went to find a place to sit. It wasn't long before he stood next to a woman sitting at a small table in the corner with her hood hung low. He guessed it was the woman he saw from afar when he was at the well. She must be suffering from the heat being cloaked. Anyway, Khaloch said as he pulled the other chair out.

”Pardon me m’lady, but may I sit here?”

[Edited on 11/25/2013 by Arveleg]
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
Ella
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on: November 24, 2013 06:18
The tavern was quiet. There weren’t city guards inside though it was crowded. Then one of the ladies she saw before entered and sat in the opposite corner. Scarlett looked at her curious yet she didn’t stare for long. She needed to make plans yet she didn’t know what to do or where to go.

The man from before walked in. After buying a beer, he walked her way and asked to sit. She was afraid at first yet she nodded “Please sir, take a sit.” She glanced at him examining his face. No, she never saw him before and guessing by his skin tone, he was not from Minas Tirith. Even if he might know her father, he would never guess she was the daughter of the captain.

“Pardon me, yet I have to ask. Are you from here?” She asked cautiously.
It was truly hot and she wanted to uncover face. It was too risky but she couldn’t almost bare the heat. She decided to pull of her hood, showing her long braided auburn hair. Her green eyes pierced into the man’s while she waited for an answer.
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wolfbladequeen
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on: November 25, 2013 06:59
Fay did not have enough money. The market had forced shop keepers to charge exorbitant prices. The man before her in the line was a foreigner, probably recently come down the river. Yes, certainly he was not from Osgiliath, for no one would offer to buy bread for another. Unsurprisingly, the baker would not allow him to give away his coins. Fay winced. A coin had hit her foot. One of the foreigner's coins. Strangely he did not bend to pick it up, and he winked at her. She smiled back.
"What is that?" the baker snapped, eying the glint of coins.
"Oh, I seem to have dropped some of my money." she replied cooly, picking up the coin.
"Shame that man could not help you buy your bread," he sneered, "I guess you will just have to go hungry."
"Oh, no, he was kind, but I have enough money."
She handed over the coins, and the baker grudgingly gave her bread.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
findemaxam48
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on: November 25, 2013 02:15
Raegan watched curiously as the Well Man- that was her new name for the man who had helped her at the well- sat down with Wild Hair and began to speak. the mug in his hand frothed lightly- some sort of spirit, she guessed. Her aunt had only told her that alchohal made ghosts appear faster, but yet that she should still stay away from it. Raegan didn't mind- she saw men on the streets who reeked of the stuff. Those were the unkind men- the ones who never gave her scraps or coins no matter how hard she stared.

Now, she stared at the two people adjacent to her- talking as if they were old friends. How could two talk so much without a ghost inturrupting? She kept her ears peeled, settled herself in, looked at them, and stared.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Arveleg
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on: November 25, 2013 05:14
Khaloch smiled and bowed slightly when the woman allowed him to sit, for he could see she was uneasy. Seeing that she had glanced from under her hood, noting who was watching her, he wouldn't have to tell her that another woman whom he had seen at the well was watching her from a nearby table, through the movement of the patrons and the serving girl. She asked him as he sipped from his flagon as he sat down,

"Pardon me, yet I have to ask. Are you from around here?"

The woman must have felt a little more at ease, for as she asked him this question, she slowly pushed the hood of the fine silver cloak that she wore back, revealing her long auburn hair intricately woven in a braid. He had briefly looked at her hand wrapped around her own drink, noticing also the fine silver stich-work on the hem of the sleeve of her fair emerald satin dress. He looked back up to find her bright green eyes locked on him, searching him. His own grey-flecked brown eyes politely searched hers back as he answered,

"No m'lady. I have just arrived here in Osgiliath late this morning. I have never been to this city before today, let alone Gondor. I do not know fully the ways and customs of Gondor or the lands north and west of here. Though I have served the Kingdom of Gondor for many years, I admit I must appear out of place here in fair Gondor."

The woman sipped her drink as Khaloch brushed back his headscarf and draped it over his shoulders. He wasn't in the sun, so he didn't need it. Aside from his Gondorian army tunic, he would have to go in search of less conspicuous attire that would be better suited for the northern climate. He had not forgotten the old man’s words. What he had forgotten was his social manners. He said to the lady,

"My name is Khaloch of Pelargir, though I have not been there much for several years. It is my honour to share your company.”

His observation of the woman had told him a few things about her, or at least it told him enough for him to guess. He had always been observant. It served him well in his young life and also while in the army. He noted by her fine attire that she was likely from a family of high position. Her delicate but firm fingers would suggest to him that she may be a healer, or have studied the arts. He kept this to himself of course. He decided to tell her some of himself, not caring if the woman from the well was overhearing.

”I was in Pelargir most recently for a short time, before I came north. I was at a tavern there, much like this one. One of the Company men that was being deployed to the southern borderlands talked of the beauty of the north, with its trees and lakes and rivers. He gave me a couple maps he had drawn, Though Pelargir was the place of my birth, The city no longer has any hold on me. It is why I paid for a ride on the supply boat that brought me here to Osgiliath. I am likely on my way to somewhere else once I have experienced the ways of the people here in this city."

Khaloch paused as he looked at the woman from the well for a brief moment. Looking back, it appeared the woman was listening to him, and maybe was somewhat interested in what he was saying, but he realized he was talking too much. He asked politely,

"I wish not to bore you m'lady with my prattle. May I ask if you are from Osgiliath? And could you tell me what it is like here in winter?"

Her eyes blinked as she considered his questions.

[Edited on 11/26/2013 by Arveleg]
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
Ella
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on: November 25, 2013 06:57
Scarlett never stopped being alert, afraid of getting discovered. The girl on the other side caught her attention while the man in front of her was sitting on her table. She was odd, yet she knew she didn’t suffer any sickness. However, she didn’t want to seem rude and keep staring at the lovely girl.

When he sat down, her green eyes were still fixed on him. She carefully analyzed his expression and the way his black thick hair framed his face. His skin tone was browner then almost every man of Gondor and it made him more mysterious and interesting. He smiled and looked at her politely. Since Scar never had any friends, the only men she had been in contact were his father and those patients who seek aid in the Healing Houses. When she began to grow and when she went to her father some soldiers looked at her in a way which made her uncomfortable. However, that man, right in front of her, was being polite.

A slight smile was drawn on her lips as the man began to speak. She bowed her head. He had been in the world out there and it made her excited, to know someone who might have been in other places. She heard every word Khaloch with the expectation of learning everything she could.

When he paused speaking, she was still expecting to hear more about his birth place. That disturbance made her look in the direction he smiled. The girl from before was there and another one had joined her. The other one was staring at her direction and it made her uncomfortable. She might have been caught. She put her hood back, covering her hair.

"I wish not to bore you m'lady with my prattle. May I ask if you are from Osgiliath? And could you tell me what it is like here in winter?"
She blinked when the man spoke again. She was afraid that girl could hear her, yet she didn’t think she knew her.

“You are not bothering me, at all, sir.” She smiled, back in their conversation. “I am Scarlett, from Minas Tirith. Actually, it had been quite hot these lands. People are getting sick.” She showed some concern but she changed the subject. “The winter is coming though I do not reckon it would be easy. It is cold usually yet it can become colder this year.” She thought for a while and said “That is why I am here, trying to go away. Are you leaving again? Where to?”

She wanted to get the more information she could about every place on Middle Earth so she could truly leave her city.
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findemaxam48
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on: November 26, 2013 09:24
Raegan listened closely to the two of them talk, and she was sure, by now, that they had noticed her presence. It seemed that everyone in the in already had--a mad girl sitting with no food or drink would surely cause a bit of attention. Yet, they seemed to pay her no mind, despite a few cursory glances. They smiled at each other and continued to speak. Wild Hair mentioned the weather, so Raegan assumed that she was uncomfortable in the conversation. Didn't people always turn to the discussion of weather when they felt awkward?

Raegan dropped her gaze to stare at the man at the counter. Oh, but did he look imposing-a chest like a barrel of rum, a bald head gleaming from the light, and cold, calculating eyes that could dissolve the heat in the air in an instant. She did not want to cross paths with that man, no, she did not. And she hoped the ghosts wouldn't either-that is, if he could see ghosts.

Raegan's aunt had called seeing ghosts a gift- a very special gift. "Not many in this world have it," she had told Raegan. "And those who do like to be open with their gift by telling everyone they could see spirits. My girl, you mustn't do this. You must hide your talent, and keep your gift to yourself." Raegan agreed, although that sometimes, when there were many ghosts around, it was hard.

Auntie's friend had described seeing ghosts as an "illness of mind", and that Raegan should be put away or killed before she hurt someone. "There are authorities that can handle a mad child," she had said.
Raegan didn't understand this, because she never felt sick when she saw a ghost, but she had always hid from authorities. Would they really hurt her? Auntie had kicked her friend out of the house and told Raegan, "Some people do not believe that we can see ghosts. Do not believe them, dear. If you can see them, they are real. You are not ill. You are divine."

Now, as she sat in the tavern, Raegan contemplated that and wondered if she could really be hurt for--

There! In front of the counter!

"Father," Raegan whispered, and she shot to her feet. All day! All day, following and searching, and he had been here! All this time!

She darted forward and started for the counter. Then, she hit something so forcefully that she fell to the ground.

Raegan stood up quickly, but then, there was the inn owner.

"Get up, girl," he snarled. "What are you doing in here?"

Raegan shrank back. "I...my father..."

He looked around. "Is anyone in here," he said, with a smug on his face, "this girls parent?"

Only laughter met her. The innkeeper laughed too, and so Raegan, despite what her aunt said about hiding her "gift," burst out! "But he's here! He's over there, that wisp at the counter! Don;t you see?..." Her voice took on a pleading tone as the laughter rose higher.

She started to stand up and called out, "Father!"

Something hit her on the side of the head so far that she fell to the ground. He had hit her. With what? His fist? Stars began to dance before her eyes as the laughter of the innkeeper reached her ears.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Arveleg
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on: November 27, 2013 01:36
Khaloch lifted his flagon and nodded a formal bow to Lady Scarlett with his head. She seemed eager for news of the lands he had been to. But he could tell her little of them for he wished not to tell her dark tales.

"So Lady Scarlett, you say you came here to this city, looking to go elsewhere? If you are wishing to go where it is not cold, then you will have to go south. Umbar is warm most of the year, though storms from the sea come sometimes."

Storms, yes, in what was the winter months they would come to Umbar from the sea. Storms would come in summer too sometimes, like when it was really hot in the afternoons. It was then the sound of thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance. There would be a storm in Osgiliath very soon. The sky outside darkened as the storm cloud pushed to cover the sun.

"I myself will be going north when I leave Osgiliath. Yes, I will first go west and make for the city of Tharbad, then journey to a place called Bree. But it will be some days yet before I am ready to leave. For the next few days, I stay at the East Quay Inn on the east side of the river where I…'

It was then the girl that sat nearby listening to their talk burst out, seeing her father. Khaloch looked as she ran by, pushing her way through the crowd. Running into someone, she fell back near where he and Lady Scarlett sat. An ill-mannered man, who apparently was the tavern proprietor, grabbed her and started yelling. Khaloch was hoping her father would come, but when the man slapped her down, Khaloch could not sit by and allow this, especially when he started laughing. He stood and stepped into the man and grabbed his arm, stopping him from slapping her again.

”Do you find it funny beating up a young women who only wishes to find their father in a tavern?”

“This does not concern you my friend. She is a local.”


The man said, pulling away from Khaloch’s grip. Khaloch stared him in the eye and said,

”Why do you and the greedy baker say I am your friend? If I have met any friends here in this city, this young woman whom I met at the well is one. Another I would say is the lady who I was conversing with. Even the lass I saw at the bakers, though I know her not. You should try to show some respect for ladies.”

There was a blinding flash, and shortly after, a loud crash of thunder. The rain started to fall hard and fast, and those caught out looked for shelter wherever they could find it. The small tavern started to become ever more crowded. The proprietor held his own and said to Khaloch,

”You, my friend, should not be so quick to make enemies.”

With the people pushing in the door, he was worried the girl on the floor might get trampled under foot.It was then three soldiers walked in moving people aside, and a slight hush came over the thick crowd. Khaloch looked over and caught sight of them briefly. Going by their fine maroon cloaks and emblem, he could see they were Elite, not the Osgiliath City Guards. They weren't there for shelter either, but were looking at faces. The proprietor turned his attention to the commander when he asked,

”Is there any trouble here?”

Khaloch looked back over his shoulder and could see that Lady Scarlett had shrunk in her chair and had let her hood drop over her face. The trouble was if they were looking for Lady Scarlett and it was a bit less crowded in the tavern, they would have found her there. Khaloch moved slightly from where he stood to shadow her from the commander’s gaze as he tried to look at faces. He seemed to give up and waved for his men to move out, but he paused as the proprietor walked with the commander to the door, and they exchanged some words before the three soldiers walked off into the greyness of the heavy summer rain shower.

Khaloch thought that ended better than it could have, but he was uneasy about the place. He leaned toward the table and looked at Lady Scarlett and said,

”Those men were looking for somebody. Whoever they were looking for had some luck from the rainstorm and this crowd. It may not be wise to stay here much longer.”

Khaloch then reached his hand down and helped the young woman up and get her to sit in the chair he once sat in, saying,

”And you miss, my friend from the well, I don’t think the proprietor likes you very much… Is your father....”

With the sound of the rain seemed to lessen slightly, and Khaloch stopped speaking as he turned to look at some of the faces. He was going to ask the girl what her father looked like. Instead he saw the proprietor talking to the bartender, and they looked over in their direction when the three soldiers returned. Khaloch stood back up and walked toward them as if he was going to order another beer at the bar. This allowed the crowd to close behind him and shroud their view of Lady Scarlett and the lady from the well. If they were looking for Lady Scarlett, which he suspected they were, his sudden decision to walk toward them worked, for the commander stopped him.

”You! Come here!”

Khalochacted surprised, but came over to him.

”Yes sir?”

The commander looked him over and said,

”Is that any way to appear in uniform soldier?”

“I am no longer in the army sir.”


Khaloch answered. The commander looked him over long and slow. He asked,

’With which outfit did you serve?”

“The Ninth Gondorian Southern Guard under Commander Raiben sir.”


Khaloch said. One of the other soldiers said,

”Ah, a mercenary rat. Far from the southern borderlands aren’t we?”

Khaloch turned and looked him in the eye, saying,

’Like I said to your Commander, I am no longer in the army. It is my understanding that men discharged from Gondor’s army are free citizen in the realm.”

“You are correct, you are free to go. I have no more questions for you.”


The commander said. Khaloch turned to leave. The Commander watched him as he walked out the door into the rain. He had to leave the tavern then and there, for they would watch him and see who he talked to if he stayed. He wasn't going to lead them to her. He left, happy that he distractrd two of the three soldiers from searching faces. The third had decided to walk through the crowd. Khaloch hoped what he did managed to buy some time for Lady Scarlett not to be discovered, and hoped the girl from the well would get out so she would not get beaten again.


[Edited on 11/27/2013 by Arveleg]
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
Ella
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on: November 27, 2013 06:38
Scarlett smiled to that man. He was polite and the conversation was pleasant. She was safe for now. She listened carefully about Umbar. Actually, her wish was not running away from the cold, yet, it was the first thing that came into her mind to explain that man why she wanted to go away.

“Yes, I can take a ship from here to go elsewhere.” She said.

Outside it became darker. A storm might be coming and it wouldn’t be good for her to hide. However, she calmly listened to Khaloch. When he referred Bree, she remembered the old Hobbit tales she used to hear when she was a child. She smiled and when he talked about the inn he was hoping to rest, she recognized it, since it was the place where she left her things.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a strong noise and laughter everywhere. The girl from the well was lying on the floor. Someone, the innkeeper, she guessed, had hit her in the head. Scar looked at her horrified. How can that man be so mean? She can be badly injured. She thought.

And then the storm began and after a flash of light, she saw Elite guards coming in. She felt afraid, but walking away would only attract more attention. She just covered her face the more she could with her hood, and remained as still as she could.

”Those men were looking for somebody. Whoever they were looking for had some luck from the rainstorm and this crowd. It may not be wise to stay here much longer.”

It was clear that Khaloch had already find out they were looking for her. She nodded as he helped the girl to sit near her. “Are you okay? Did you find you father, miss?” she whispered to the well girl, truly worried about her condition. However, she hadn’t that much time to worry about the girl, since if they found her out, it was over. The man bought her time, speaking with the soldiers.

Looking at the crowed, she noticed Khaloch walked away, distracting two of the three soldiers. She knew the girl was in the company of the other one who was right on the other side. Scar grabbed her hand and leaded her to the other girl.

“Come, it won’t be wise to stand in this confusion for much long. You might be hurt, lady, and I can help you once we get out of here.”

She was worried about them and those soldiers could be mean when they wanted. Continuing to grab her hand she leaded them to the back door of the inn and they ran outside to the inn where she left. She dropped the girl’s hand hoping she, along with her friend, would follow her.

When she arrived at the inn, she walked to a small living room which was empty. She waited for the other girls. I am safe for now.


[Edited on 11/27/2013 by Ella]
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findemaxam48
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on: November 27, 2013 01:47
Raegan was still trembling when Well Man said to her, "And you miss, my friend from the well, I don’t think the proprietor likes you very much… Is your father....”. She had a thought to run, but it warmed her when Well Man called her "friend". She had never had a friend before, and the prospect of having one and being a friend to another interested her. She was just about to ask what a friend did when Well Man suddenly rose and went over to the guards.

Suddenly, Wild Hair leaned over and whispered to her, “Are you okay? Did you find you father, miss?” She looked genuinely concerned for Raegan's condition. Other than a blazing pain on her head where she was hit.

Another friend? Two in one night! How fortunate she was!

Raegan jumped when Wild Hair suddenly seized her hand and pulled her over towards another girl. Raegan recognized her, because she often saw her buying bread and leading horses away into stables. But there was one thing that distracted her: Wild Hair was gripping her hand. It scared Raegan-the urgency of her tug. If gripping hands to often was a part of friendship, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to break free, but Wild Hair pulled her onward. Then, looking at the two of them, Wild Hair said, “Come, it won’t be wise to stand in this confusion for much long. You might be hurt, lady, and I can help you once we get out of here.”

Raegan assumed Wild Hair meant her- the one who was hurt, that is. Unless the innkeeper hit Bread Buyer too, when Raegan wasn't looking.

Wild Hair tugged gently on Raegan's hand again and led them out of the back door and into another building. Bread Buyer followed along too, for reasons Raegan didn't know. Another friend? Maybe. But not if this clutching was going to be involved. Wild Hair released Raegan's hand and she swung it freely. Now that that was done with, a friend was in prospect.

They all went to a small back room, and Wild Hair seemed to relax. She shut the door behind them all, and Raegan gave a cursory glance to the room. No ghosts. She sat down on the floor, even though there were chairs. This was a fine room, and at home, Auntie never let her sit on furniture.

Looking to Wild hair, she said, with a note of suspicion in her voice, "Hello," Then she looked to Bread Buyer and said the same thing.

A stab of pain hit her upside the head, and she nearly fell over. Instead, she pressed her hand to the spot, and willed it to go away.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
wolfbladequeen
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on: November 29, 2013 12:56
"What has happened to her? Have you done something to her? Is this your fault?" Fay snapped at the woman.

She had been beaten often enough to learn how to take it, but obviously the girl in front of the had not had this... opportunity... Those who are never hit tend to wince at the tiniest cut, but this girl was apparently tougher than them... or perhaps she had been beaten in the past, before spending all her time in her fantasies.

The other young woman wore fine clothes, and would never had been hit. Fay did not like the high classes, for they were usually arrogant and unkind. Such green eyes, she thought.

Fay had not seen what had happened, but it was plain to see that the girl who chased the shadows was badly hurt. Obviously Ghost-girl did not know Green-eyes, so why did Green-eyes take her away?
She had only followed because she was worried about why Green-eyes had been pulling Ghost-girl out of the tavern so quickly, and, as it had seemed at first, against her will.

Fay had seen soldiers before. It was no abnormality to see them, lounging around in the taverns and leering at people who passed, but those soldiers had been different. They had had purpose. But which were they looking for, if either, of Ghost-girl and Green-eyes? Ghost-girl, so wild, so badly hurt, and, though she would never have said aloud, very pretty. Green-eyes was pretty too, especially those sharp eyes.

She calmed down, and assessed the situation.
"My name is-" she hesitated. Her mother had always told her never to reveal her name to strangers, although her father did not feel the same. They had never agreed on much.
"My name is Freya."
She had seen both of the people in front of her before, and surely they had seen her, but hopefully they would not know her name, or not well enough to perceive her lie. But she had no obligation to be truthful to these people, whom she deeply mistrusted now.

[Edited on 11/29/2013 by wolfbladequeen]
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
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on: November 29, 2013 02:28

As they were all inside and the door was closed behind them, Scarlett lightened the fire since it was becoming cold. Then, she quickly put water boiling and took some medicinal herbs. While the water wasn’t ready for a tea, she walked to the injured girl who sat on the floor. She thought for a while before introducing herself. She had nothing to be afraid of, since they would unlikely knew her.

“I am Scar. I will make you no harm.” She sat near the girl. “I am sorry, but it that place was quite crowded to treat you.” She kindly explained. The woman smashed the herbs and asked “Would you let me see your injury?”

The room was quiet. They were all suspicious about each other. Scar began to treat the girl’s wound while she said “Tomorrow you will find you father for sure.” She smiled and ended the curative. “Now you should rest.” Looking at the other girl, she asked worried “Are you also hurt? Is there something I can do for help?”

The woman was usually wary about other people and that moment she noticed how the two girls looked at her. This wasn’t a good idea. I should get going. They can find me if I don’t take precautions. She stood up, wanting to leave, yet she couldn’t leave the girls that way. There was a storm outside and there was no way of getting out.

Suddenly, she remembered the man from before. He clearly helped her escaping from the soldiers even if he was dressed almost like one of them. Now she thought of it, he was telling exactly what she wanted to hear about distant places. The, why did he helped her? He was staying on the east side of the river, in a tavern he told her. She wanted to go there as soon as possible.

When the storm calms down, I have to thank him. What was his name again? Khaloch…?
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findemaxam48
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on: November 29, 2013 05:03
Raegan could now put a real name to the faces she had seen so very often. Freya, and Scar. Such odd names, yet, less odd than the ones she bestowed to them.

"Hello, Freya," she said carefully, because her words didn't come often, and when she did speak, every word had to be chosen with the utmost care. Ghosts were strange beings, and a slight discrepency could turn them away. Were humans the same? Or different? She didn't want to lose a new friend, even if Freya looked at her with an odd ezpression. Perhaps she was contemplating Raegan, wondering if she could be a trustworthy friend. Should Raegan look at her the same? They looked to be the same age.


Scar sat beside raegan and went about crushing up some plants. Raegan caught interest. What was this crushing up of flowers? “Would you let me see your injury?” Scar asked.

Raegan nodded and scooted closer to her. They all studied each other as Scar began to rinse out her injury and put the crushed flowers onto it. Raegan winced, as if stung at first, and then the pain dulled away. “Tomorrow you will find you father for sure," Scar said.

As Scar asked Freya a question, Raegan contemplated telling them about the ghosts. But then again, they were all so quiet around each other. Perhaps it would be a nice conversation starter. But she held off a moment longer, waited until Scar had stopped talking and seemed to drift in thought. Raegan wondered if Well Man would come in.


Then, in a timid voice, she said, "My father is dead."

They both looked at her, startled.

"But he was there," raegan assured them swiftly. "There in the tavern. I had been following him all day, and I lost track of him. He was there, at the bar, with a drink. He waved to me. But, im afraid I lost him again. Will you help me find him?"

Raegan smiled, quite proud of herself for speaking so much. But then why did Freya and Scar seem so horrified?

We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
Arveleg
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on: November 29, 2013 08:26
Khaloch walked swiftly through the driving rain, shrouded in the grey mist. Only a few of the vendors remained trying to protect their wares with their windblown shade cloths. Some had abandoned their stalls altogether, and the City Guard was out watching for looters. He had to be careful not to be seen, for one run-in with soldiers was all he cared for.

By the time he crossed the bridge, the rain had receded some, but still fell at a leisurely pace. The wind had stopped and the heat had been taken from the air. The dull grey of the darkening afternoon was only broken by the bright flash of lightning as the storm moved toward the north. He quickly descended the stair and splashed his way along the muddy road that led back to the East Quay Inn. The east side of Osgiliath was definitely a bit rougher than the west. It showed more in the drab light.

Stepping in the door, Khaloch shook his head in a futile attempt to dry off. The proprietor grumpily called out to him,

”Don’t spread the rain in here!”

Khaloch ignored him and made his way to his room. Everything he had left had been untouched, so he quickly went through everything to see what he would need for a journey west and north. He would have to find some cool weather attire, and maybe some new boots. He would need money though. He sat down in the chair and looked out the window at the rain. It was now a cool rain as the day waned. He felt cold because he was still wet.

He pulled out an old grey and green cloak that he had won from the soldier that gave him the maps in Pelargir. The soldier was glad to part with it since he was heading south. Khaloch now was glad to get it, now that he was going where it would soon be cold. He threw it on ad it did make him feel warmer. He let the hood down over his face, and thought about the fair Lady Scarlett. He knew from the short time talking with her, seeing how she was dressed, and her actions and demeanour, that she was from a high family and had left Minas Tirith quickly without leave. He was sure of it when the elite soldiers had come into the tavern, for they were likely under orders to seek her out. Otherwise, men of the City Guard would have come.

Khaloch threw back the hood and sighed. He didn't want to find trouble, or cause any for anyone. But it had been only a half a day and he could see that it could easily find him. He hoped Lady Scarlett was able to find her way free and was not taken back to Minas Tirith. He also wondered if he would see her again.

Thoughts were broken by a noise from the wall. Someone in the next room was doing something. Khaloch suspected, but he would have to wait to see if he could be so lucky. He quietly got down and listened and marked where the sounds were coming from. He then quietly got up and went to the door. When he heard someone open the door to the next room, he pushed his door open a crack so he could see who it was. A ship’s officer! Khaloch closed his door and went back to here he had heard the sound. Pulling his knife, he carefully worked at getting the plank to pull loose. His eyes lit up at what he found.

Khaloch picked up one of the small bags and looked into it. Full of gold coin! He cinched the top and grabbed the other two. He looked in each, and thought. It would be too obvious if he made off with all of them. He instead considered the cost of things he would need and the needs for the road, and a bit extra. He then went through the coins he had, and used the coppers to replenish most of those taken., making sure they were well mixed in toward the bottom of the bags. He then set each one back just as they lay, and pushed the plank back in place. It wouldn’t fit back all the way, and so Khaloch had to give it a hard kick with his boot heel.

He went back to the window and looked out. The rain had not stopped, but it was now falling lightly. The sky was a brighter grey too. He went back to his duffle bag, sorting and deciding what he would need with him should he not come back to his room. The herbs and teas he had from the south he still hoped to trade, along with the few other items of worth he had. Securing the satchels and bags to his belt, he left things he would not require laying around the room to give appearance that he was still living there. He then lay on the bed to give it a look of being used. That was a mistake, for he fell asleep hard.

Waking suddenly from a vivid dream, he felt stunned. He blinked at the brightness. The rain had stopped and the skies lit up with the rays of the westering sun. It was warmer again, and humid, but nowhere near as hot as it was around mid-day. Khaloch had to orientate himself to be sure the sun was in the west. As he felt like he slept for a really long time. But it had only been a short time,. He got up and rubbed his hand over his bristly hair and left his room. He went to the tavern bar and ordered a cup of hot black tea, and when the pot was brought to him, he breathed in its steam as it steeped. The daze of his nap was finally receding, and as he drank his tea, he considered what he wanted to do. He would go see the Tanner he saw in the market square. He needed new boots suited for the north, and also some breeches and a tunic. The only thing he would keep was his Gondorian army vest, which he had now put on the insignia so should he have to talk with other soldiers, there would be no question that he had served with the Ninth.
Eighth King of Arthedain - It was in battle that I come into this Kingship, and it will be in Battle when I leave it. There is no peace for the Realm of Arnor. Read the last stand of Arthedain in the Darkest of Days.
wolfbladequeen
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on: November 30, 2013 07:08
Scar? Fay thought. What an odd name, for one so scar-less. But then, there are many different kinds of scars, and not all can be seen, even if the scarred-one would allow scars to be seen. Fay would never show her scars, and as such she never wore any leggings that were not full-length. There were so many sharp objects scattered around at the building she called home that her feet, ankles and shins were a mass of scratches and bruises.

Green-eyes... Scar... was treating Ghost-girl? What moved her to take this course of action?
"Are you also hurt? Is there something I can do to help?" Scar asked her.
Yes, she was hurt, but she did not wish to show her wounds to strangers, nor to burden this upon Scar as well.
"No. I am well, thank you." She flinched involuntarily. Scar looked at her disbelievingly. Then Fay forgot the question entirely.

"My father is dead. But he was there."
Dead, but still beheld by the living? Was this not impossible?
"Will you help me find him?" Ghost-girl smiled.
How could she help to find a ghost? Or perhaps a memory? This girl seemed to be very troubled. She should not dismiss her thoughts.
"I would help, but I know not how." Fay swallowed her shock, and smiled back. A small smile. She was not used to anything but keeping a straight face. 'If you would smile, you should be working harder', she was always told.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
Ella
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on: November 30, 2013 08:37
The ambient in the room was heavy. Scarlett didn’t want to hurt anyone yet she needed to be cautious. She found no evil in those girls though she was still wary. The other girl answered her but she seemed to be hurt somewhere. When she was ready to said she would help her and she hadn’t to be afraid, she heard a voice.

"My father is dead."

Suddenly, Scar didn’t know what to do. First she looked horrified, but when she saw her smile, she knew she was being serious. The girl was clearly disturbed with her father’s death. She always had the contact with people who were mentally ill because of loved one’s losses, but that girl didn’t seem one of those cases. Then, she looked at the other girl who also smiled.

"I would help, but I know not how."

Even if she didn’t believe in ghosts, she would help her. A slight smile was drawn in her lips as she said “I would love to help you.”

However, the elite soldiers were somewhere looking for her. She couldn’t just run out there. She thought for a while. First of anything, she would need a bath and to change her clothes.

“I need to get myself ready at first, so please, rest here for a while.”

She asked for a bath and then went to her room. After washing herself, she combed her hair and let it untied. She wore a crimson dress with wide sleeves and her silver cloak to hide her identity. She hadn’t anymore clothes she could wear to get unnoticed, yet she saw many women dressed in that color. She packed everything she had in a bag beneath the cloak.

She walked into the room again where the girls were. She smiled to them and said
“I am looking for someone, too. I think you might know how he looks like. He’s the man who I was with, back in the tavern.” She stopped for a while the added. “And we have to be careful with the soldiers. They can do you harm.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, since if they found out they have been with her, they could hurt them to get to her.

Since she wanted to find Khaloch again, she had to go out either way. Now that the rain had already passed, it was the perfect moment to go looking for him. Maybe he still was in the East Quay Inn. Scarlett turned to the girl who was looking for her father.

“I am going to the East side of the city. Do you think we can find your father there?” Then she smiled and said politely. “Pardon me, miss, but I think you did not tell us your name.”
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findemaxam48
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on: November 30, 2013 12:15
Raegan was thrilled at the prospect of the help she could be recieiving, however skeptical Freya and Scar seemed. She was happier still when Freya gave her a smile. She had not once seen the poor servent girl show a glimpse of emotion, not even when she was being hit or trading a good. Serventry, in these parts, was to be taken seariously. Ragen herself had once made an attempt at work, but then the ghost spotting became unbearbale and she left.

Scar, too, seemed happy to help, as she smiled and said, “I would love to help you.” However, thoughts still mused on her face, as if contemplating a thought that didn't want to rise to the surface. After a pause, she said, “I need to get myself ready at first, so please, rest here for a while.”

After the lady left from the room, Raegan busied herself by creating slight piles of dust that collected on the floor. Freya watched her with interest.

Scar returned with her damp hair loose and flowing around her shoulders. She now donned a silver cloak, but the fabric did nothing to hide the fine ware that the crimson dress that lied beneath was made from. Then, maybe it would be hidden to someone unsuspecting. Raegan was used to spying on people, used to looking past them to notice the small details. Then again, the shades Scar wore were widespread this time of year, when boats came down the river filled with new colors and wares for the wealthy. Raegan had always wanted a dress like that, however Auntie had said often that Raegan should be appriciative of the rough, shapeless dress she always wore. Now, Raegan noticed that even Freya, a servent, wore a dress with long leggings, and she wondered why Auntie had never allowed her something different to wear.

Scar smiled at them again and said,“I am looking for someone, too. I think you might know how he looks like. He’s the man who I was with, back in the tavern.” She paused a bit and then said hastily, “And we have to be careful with the soldiers. They can do you harm.” Then she turned to Raegan and said politely,“I am going to the East side of the city. Do you think we can find your father there?” She smiled again, and said, “Pardon me, miss, but I think you did not tell us your name.”


Raegan nodded earnestly. "I know of who you speak," She said earnestly. "He was kind to me. I saw him run-" She pointed- "that way. And yes, of my, yes, we must be wary of the Guard. They tried to chase me one time, too, Scar, because I waswaiting by someone's cart. Only there was no one to guard it. I wasn;t going to take anything, you see, I was only looking, and tey saw me and they chased me nearly to the docks. One hit me in the back of the legs- like I saw happen to Freya once- and then he left after warning me not to steal again. But I took nothing. I have tried to stay away from them ever since. Were you just looking at something, too, Scar?" She took in a deep breath, and then aded, "Oh. My name is Raegan."

By the looks Freya and Scar were giving her, Raegan thought that she had said too much. "I apologize," She said quickly. "Auntie always tells me that I talk too much around company. But I was only asking a question, because you asked one too, and that's polite, right?" When they didn't answer, she said, "We may find father in the East. I don't know. I usually don't go that way, but ghosts will travel where they will. When do we start walking?"



We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
wolfbladequeen
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on: December 01, 2013 11:56
Fay watched Ghost-girl occupying herself with the creating of piles of dust. How nice it would to have the time to think up such meaningless games, she thought.

Scar walked in again, now furbished in a deep red dress and a cloak. It was a very beautiful cloak, shimmering as if the light of the stars was woven into its fabric. Fay disliked dresses, and always wore leggings with her own dress. She liked the pale grey of her dress, but it was little more than rags, especially compared to the finery worn by Scar.

Fay did not know whom Scar spoke of, as she had not seen inside the tavern, But it seemed that Ghost-girl did. How were these two linked, if they did not know each other's names? Ghost-girl spoke of being hit, and seeing her being hit. Did the girl watch her? Or people in general? She had always been of the opinion that she took no notice of the world around her.

"Were you just looking at something too, Scar?"
Was it Scar, then, that the soldiers were searching for?
"My name is Raegan"
The name Reagan is often associated with wisdom. Could it be that this strange child did know things that they did not, though perhaps about a different world? The land of spirits, and ghosts? Reagan seemed to truly believe in it.

This girl was told that she talked too much? No, she seemed not to be at ease with speech, but it was the things she spoke of that were so unusual. She was only being polite... yes, and perhaps Fay should be more truthful... but she did not want to reveal her name. For a name is a story, a whole life betrayed by one word. Names had power.

"When do we start walking?"
Was Fay included in this 'we'? She had no reason to travel East with strangers. There was work to be done, but she did not see how she could leave without offending the others. Also, her interest had been aroused. Perhaps she should go with them, to see where there path might take them.

Fay said nothing, but waited to see what each of the others would have to say to her.
If anyone had happened to look out of a window on the east side of the palace, they might have noticed two figures in the darkness, dancing in a square bordered by living plants, out of time with the dancers inside but perfectly in time with each other.
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