| Autumn_Winds |
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| anduril269 |
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| dreamdancer |
 RE: Ever After (Keeper!)
on: May 26, 2006 10:33
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Lalaith remained silent still (not wanting to interrupt, which was in her nature), clinging tightly to Glyndr’s hand when he intertwined his fingers with hers. She listened to everyone speaking, watched the large black stallion ‘picking’ those who would journey to the newly-discovered enemy camp… but mostly she concentrated on having her husband beside her. All too well she knew the loneliness that would fill her when he left- no matter if he promised to return or not. That would be a promise he couldn’t really make- if the enemy camp was so large, how could they hope to sneak in for their friends without being caught? The elf captain was immortal, but not invincible.
When he left her side to speak to the young soldier she watched her love closely. His movements were swift and graceful as always, but she could easily detect the unusual, albeit slight, stiffness in his gait. His hurts were not fully healed (especially since he’d been getting in fights) and she wondered worriedly if he would be able to stand in battle. And what of the others? It infuriated Lalaith that all she could do was worry for them, and hope for a safe return. If only she’d dedicated more of her time to training as a warrior instead of idling away with song and music- then she might be able to actually *do* something helpful.
The Captain turned and walked back to Lalaith.
“My love, it will not be forever” he took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, “ I shall have returned before you even know it, and with our friends, Lalaith I will not leave Narmion and the child as a sacrifice, and at the mercy of those depraved devils”.
“I would never ask you to do that,” she replied quietly, meeting his gaze steadily, “Please take care, my love.”
He kissed her once more- a kiss which she longed would never end- then sighed sadly as he went to mount his horse. With a detached expression she watched what went on with the others, thinking morosely that any one of them might not return. So many had already been lost- and though her heart ached with concern for Narmion and Rolan, the elleth hated seeing more of their precious numbers riding into danger— -especially the love of her life! If he were to fall, she knew she would surely be overtaken by grief.
She noticed Eadoin sharing a farewell kiss with Ari, and smiled dismally to herself. So, perhaps they’d finally admitted their (obvious) feelings to eachother… that was good. Love was a precious thing, especially during dark days such as these…
Spotting Istale, Lalaith moved to stand near her. There was silence between them as they watched the small rescue party preparing to set out. It was somehow comforting and companionable, and she hoped that after the others had gone that the dark-headed elleth would stay with her for a while… because she didn’t think she could handle being alone just now.
After the party had gone and Glyndr was gone from sight, she sighed again, and turned to a tap on her shoulder. There stood Amata. Lalaith smiled slighty- she’d missed the half-elf in her absence. If it hadn’t been for the woman, after all, she’d have never met Glyndr- and probably would have wandered aimlessly around a tiny Rohannian village, lost and alone. Her first true friend outside Imladris… she could tell that she was worried as well, by her expression. No surprise- they’d all grown very close, and then the half-elf had gone. It had almost seemed that she and Narmion had been growing ever closer… and the elleth recalled well how upset he’d been when Amata had gone.
Um... hello, Lalaith," she said, almost stupidly
“Hello,” Lalaith replied, unable to sound cheerful, “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”
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Bellas had been watching the black horse with amusement, finding its behavior interesting, if nothing else. The creature was certainly intelligent- but when it shuffled over and started trying to herd he and Hannalisa into the group it was forming, the elf just stepped back out of the way and looked at it as if it had lost its mind. Diablo bared his teeth and made a most threatening hiss-noise, which was more than slightly unnerving- obviously it wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Ari came to the rescue, though at first the stallion still seemed intent on forcing the smith and the dwarf to obey him. Afterwards, Bellas shook his head at Hanni, hitching one shoulder in a shrug. He was just turning to head back to the smithy- where he was *supposed* to be working- when Arianna’s voice brought him to a halt.
When the circle went all silent, Arianna stepped into them and said quietly, "We have a member of the group who really does wish to be on his way, Captain." Being around Glyndr always left her slightly flustered. He was a very imposing Elf, to say the least. "Diablo has made it quite clear he wishes to be off at once, and from what I know of him, I would assume it is because there is - or will be - great harm coming to Narmion and Rolan.
"Furthermore," she continued, a little more confident now, "he has also indicated his selection of members to go. You may wish to modify the list somewhat, Captain. He chose Eadoin, Bellas, Hannalisa and Arato to go." She indicated the mounts even now making their way from the stables to the courtyard. "I believe he is trying to make certain they come. Please bring everyone home safely."
No ,” Glyndr replied to Ari as his icebright eyes scanned those chosen, “I do not need to modify the choice, Save, that I ask if any of those chosen does not wish to go, then he says so now”.
Hanni looked between the captain and the dark monstrosity which had apparently chosen her to go along. She raised her chin and set her bristly sideburns to twitching in the bravest and most intimidating manner she could muster before stating clearly, “I doubt you’ll find a coward here, Master Elf. Aye, I’ll come with ye. But I’ll not take orders from a horse so you’ll have to speak up if you have a plan.”
The smith was feeling quite flummoxed about the entire situation- he wasn’t even dressed for travel!- but, obviously he’d been chosen to go in the rescue mission, to which Glyndr had agreed. And Bellas was no coward- though he thought wistfully of the work waiting to be done in his comfortable smithy, he was as determined as the dwarf not to back down.
A stable-lad brought out his horse after all the rest, a large, brown stallion named Thes. The elf took the reins and greeted his animal friend. Sighing, he ran smudged fingers through light brown locks and wondered again what he’d been picked for. He also wondered if he could risk being scolded for taking the time to go pull on a shirt. The only one near was in the smithy, hanging by the door….
Well, he had the apron anyway, and a-dagger at his belt- so, he turned and was preparing to mount when he glanced about and caught sight of Hanni. She was glaring at the horses as if she had a personal quarrel with every one. A vague smile touched his lips and he led his horse to her.
“You can ride with me… here, let me help you up.”
“Now see here, Lad,” she replied haughtily, “ I don't need any help, thank you very much!"
She then glared at the gelding and circled him a few times, trying without success to get her leg high enough to reach the stirrups. Bellas just watched, forcing himself not to chuckle at her- she couldn’t help her height, after all. The dwarf ended up back before him before long, glaring as if she’d lop his head off- and, grumblingly she reached out to he helped up.
“Not one word!” she commanded, seeing his obvious struggle to keep from grinning, “Not one!”
He wasn’t completely successful in suppressing his amusement- despite the fact that they were about to ride into danger, the elf couldn’t help smiling over her obvious aggravation at the situation. With a crooked smile he nodded, though, and rested a hand over his heart.
“I swear it,” he said, and then hefted her up onto the horses back. At first Thes seemed incredibly irritated to have the strange new something back there, and he snorted in disgust when Bellas mounted as well.
“Oh, come!” The elf said, “You’ve carried heavier loads than this! Hold onto me, Hanni.”
He could already tell that his shorter riding companion was uneasy on horseback, but the fact was confirmed when he urged Thes over to where the rest of the riders were already mounted. Hanni’s arms had already been loosely about him (though she’d put them there grumbling, obviously not liking the idea of having to hold on to anyone)- but when they started moving and the dwarf slipped a little, those sturdy arms tightened about his waist so quickly that he was almost thrown off-balance, and an ‘oomph!’ passed his lips as the breath was squeezed right out of him.
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Delvan was woken from his drunken sleep- again- by screaming. This time he grumbled about Di-Shan having terrible timing and just got up. After pulling on a shirt he left the tent and looked around, hoping to spy Ondet. The elf’s pale hair was unmistakable- he entered the grand pavilion that was his tent and didn’t reappear. The Captain groaned- it was no good intruding on Ondet if he hadn’t called. He contented himself to look about for Morgai, then, hoping to push his buttons and get him angry. That man wasn’t around either… and he wanted nothing to do with Di’Shan.
He decided to harass Dirk.
The man was where he always was- with the horses. As Delvan approached he saw Alcina leaving and smirked.
“What does she see in you?” he said mockingly as he sidled up to stand a companionable distance from Dirk- just another man he disliked, “And what do you do, but chase her off? Learn how to handle women as well as you handle horses.”
He snorted; it was so obvious that the Rohirric man was unsettled by the cries coming from the tent. He was weak, and- in the captain’s opinion- useless. But Ondet thrilled in causing him pain… and so did Delvan. He lightly rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, fingering it lovingly.
“Did you tend to the wretched beast that belonged to the elf? That one’s mine now, you know…”
An evil grin touched his lips.
“It’s not as if he’ll need it any longer, now is it? But what of the pretty black thing you brought back… I don’t see *him* anywhere…”
(for the record, I’ve taken some allergy medicine and it has me extremely spaced out… so, I’m hoping this makes sense, and please forgive me if not… and also, no Narmion yet...)
[Edited on 26/5/2006 by dreamdancer]
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| Salkiethia |
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| Sirithros_Lirenel |
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| Nimeneth |
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| elflyn |
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| Nimeneth |
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| Salkiethia |
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| Iell-daughter-of-elves |
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| otterling |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!)
on: May 31, 2006 05:28
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The soft clopping of hooves on cobblestones rolled up to Hanni from her left. She peered cautiously out of the corner of her eye and found Bellas standing there, idly holding the reins of his own mount. Her hopes that the smith would show common sense and just walk had been dashed. With a heavy grumbling sigh, Hanni turned to him.
Well, he had the apron anyway, and a-dagger at his belt- so, he turned and was preparing to mount when he glanced about and caught sight of Hanni. She was glaring at the horses as if she had a personal quarrel with every one. A vague smile touched his lips and he led his horse to her.
“You can ride with me… here, let me help you up.”
“Now see here, Lad. I don’t need any help, thank you very much,” Hanni’s whiskers were twitching in earnest now as her dignity refused to be suffered the blow of accepting help onto the horse. She glared up at the beast, daring it to make this more difficult for her and then she moved up to the stirrup. Hanni reached out timidly and fingered the leather a bit, as if testing it, before she rolled her gaze the rest of the way up to the almost unreachable saddle. The stirrup itself hung at the same height as her bulbous nose and with a gruff snort, Hanni grabbed the offending item and tried to steady herself against the horse. Choice words were said in Dwarvish when she tried to lift her leg high enough to get in the stirrup, for it was at that moment, when all her weight was leaned against the horse that the animal opted to side step ever so slightly, sending Hanni hopping about in her attempt not to fall over. Having failed to get any part of her body into the saddle, and not just once wishing she had a grapnel and some rope, Hanni made her way around to the other side of the beast. Was it too much to hope that the horse would have built in stairs somewhere? Finding the other side of the animal no more receptive to her efforts than the first, she made her way back around once more.
By this point the mount was eyeing her unhappily and Bellas was obviously trying to conceal his mirth. Hanni bit down on the urge to punch his kneecaps for it. With the heavy sigh of wounded dignity, Hanni shuffled over to him and put her arms up like a child asking to be held by its parents. “Not one word, not one!” Bellas was all but chewing off his bottom lip to keep from spilling his laughter and he offered her a hand over his heart, matched with a crooked smile, and his heartfelt declaration that no commentary would be forthcoming. With a strength that did credit to his race, Bellas managed to heft all two hundred and five pounds (that five is very important after all) into the saddle of his horse, who snorted uncomfortably at the sudden weight of an unknown rider. Bellas himself mounted with a singular grace possessed only of elves, leaving Hanni rolling her eyes and glaring daggers at the spot right between his shoulder blades, the only view she was now afforded.
Having never ridden a horse before, Hanni wasn’t quite sure what to expect and as Bellas turned the animal to join the others, she looped her arms very loosely around his middle and looked around at the saddle. There were a great many changes she would make to such a thing, sides and a bucket type seat which would keep her rump in the saddle, but her thoughts were cut short as the horse made a few loping strides towards its companions. Hanni, suddenly realizing that the ground was a long ways off, found her self clinging to the elf, all racial differences forgotten in the face of a danger far greater than orcs. It was in that moment Hanni was sure that horses must be the ancestral enemies of dwarves the world over. Bellas made a small squeak of protest as the hunk of metal behind him clung to his ribcage like a vice, but his gasp for air went unheard by the unhappy dwarf. The rest of the ride saw Hanni sitting silent in the saddle, too afraid to speak for fear that any action outside of that which she was doing might instantly dislodge her from the horse’s back.
“Not take orders from a horse?” Glyndr arched an eyebrow as he remembered Hanni’s words. “ Diablo is no ordinary horse, no one has a choice but to take orders”.
The Captain tried hard to suppress a smile as he rode beside Bellas and Hanni.
The entertainment of watching the short-legged dwarf balancing precariously behind the smith on the horse was more than just an amusing spectacle.
Glyndr’s words were met with a glare of irritation from Hanni but still she bit her tongue. That was an argument best left for later, when Hanni’s feet were back upon terra firma. After several nail biting hours of clinging to Bellas and cursing the day horses were spat upon the earth, Hanni watched as miraculously Glyndr glowed with an inner light and became an angelic being, all with a few simple words.
“We halt here”, Glyndr hissed, his anger growing as he thought of the foul, depraved creatures that held Narmion and Rolan.
“Dismount”, The elf Captain ordered quietly, “We leave the horses here. From now on we go on foot. We move silently, and keep to the shadows to as close as we can safely get to the edge of the camp”.
Surely she had never heard words that were so wonderful before. The dismount of Bellas and Hanni was a fairly complicated affair as the little dwarf didn’t want to let go of Bellas until she was back on the ground but Bellas couldn’t well dismount with over two hundred pounds of dwarf and metal attached to his waist. Finally, after a few moments of coaxing on the behalf of the elf, Hanni let go and settled for clinging to the horse’s rump as Bellas slid to the ground. Her pride forgotten for the immediate moment, Hanni reached out as soon as the smith turned around and all but fell out of the saddle into his arms. After a few staggering moments, Hanni was back on the ground and she fell to her knees in the attempt to place as much of her self in contact with it as was possible. “Blasted beasts,” she grumbled. With a few protesting grunts, Hanni managed to get back to her feet though walking still eluded her as the hours of riding took their toll on her already sore bottom.
"Yes, Captain," Eadoin said, placing a hand on Diablo's neck and quietly guiding the horse to the spot where he had been watching before. "See the big tent in the middle of the camp?" he asked. "That belongs to their leader. The one that I heard screams coming from is that one, I think." The young man pointed to a fairly large tent set a bit away from the leader's, but well in the middle of the camp.
Whispered words were shared among the group and the decision was made to wait until dark. The camp was a swarming mass of gnarled black bodies all moving around a center tent like a giant anthill, the sounds of a celebration were in full swing and from somewhere to the right of the center, in a large clearing, a bonfire had been built; it stood near a long tent which writhed with the many orcs who had converged on the building for the festivities. Hanni slid her hammer off her back and nervously rubbed her calloused fingers across its handle. This would not be easy. The camp was overflowing with enemy forces, orcs and dirty human men, who would delight at the notion of finding their small group huddled in the trees. The element of surprise belonged to the defenders of Rivendell though, as no one would suspect an attack on a camp this size. Glancing back over at the tall, lithe forms of the elves, Hanni couldn’t help but wonder how, by all the dark tunnels of her home, they were going to get all the way to the center of camp without being slaughtered.
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Di’shan pushed his way into Ondet’s tent and immediately lowered his eyes in respect. The elf was seated with his back to the opening, an unspoken sign of his confidence, and Di’shan found he was more un-nerved by this simple action than all the glares, stares and threats he had ever encountered before. Without a word, Ondet was telling Di’shan that he knew, without question, that no one could touch him. The orcs were all too terrified of him to try any foolish acts, which left just the humans in the camp and none of them would have been able to take on the elf lord in combat. A single curved blade was leaned against it’s rack to one side of the tent and Di’shan wondered absently how many lives had been snuffed out of existence by the edge of that steel. Ondet was eternal, the untouched. He was ageless and in him there was a horrible sense of knowing that left Di’shan feeling like a child trying to comprehend a god.
Ondet’s smooth voice rolled out from no where in particular and Di’shan felt his muscles twitch involuntarily. “The horse is gone. Your prize is stolen away, Di’shan, and Dirk has overstepped his bounds for the last time. I offer you a new prize,” Ondet did not even bother to look at Di’shan as he spoke, his form as still and flawless as an alabaster statue, “if you have what I requested.” Di’shan found himself suddenly glad that the prisoner had eventually given him something useful to work with, angering Ondet would not be wise. “The elves are all but spent already,” he began softly, his voice growing in confidence as he continued, “With Lord Elrond dead, and his sons on the verge of useless, they have chosen a woman as their leader. Her name is Arianna and she is new to leadership such as this. There is a captain of the guard, a fiery tempered fellow who is the spine of their forces now. They should break easily enough.” Di’shan’s words were cut short as he suddenly found Ondet on his feet and the gleaming blade of the elf pressed to his throat. The motion had been so swift that Di’shan had not even registered it.
“Do not underestimate the elves,” Ondet hissed softly, “They are possessed of a strength you cannot understand.” The sword was drawn back from his neck and placed ever so carefully back on it’s stand. “Still,” Ondet continued, “you have done well. Go to Rohan, gain the youngest son of Dirk and bring the child here. He will watch to make sure the message is understood.” Di’shan bowed low and hid his satisfied smile, for though his heart was still pounding from the blade to his neck, so too was it pounding from the gift he had been given. True, Di’shan had lost the horse but it’s spirit seemed broken already anyway and the prospect of watching Dirk scream while his youngest son was murdered before his eyes left Di’shan almost giddy with excitement.
“It will be as you say, My Lord.” With that, Di’shan swept back out of the tent and out into the camp. He moved back into his tent without a word to the prisoners and there he packed enough of his things to last for his journey. With his armor on and two bags tossed over one shoulder, Di’shan winked at Narmion and chuckled before he disappeared once more out of view. Within moments, Di’shan had made his way to the horses and there he calmly leaned against the railing. The Harad man knew without question that Dirk would be here and he spied the young man some few feet away watching the horses. “Dirk, do saddle my horse up, I have an errand to run,” Di’shan smiled gleefully and let his bags drop to the ground at his feet.
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Ondet slid like the proverbial serpent from his tent and watched with a note of satisfaction when all those in the area came to attention. With a single minded purpose Ondet chose one of the nearby men and spoke to him in fluid calm tones, “Find me Morgai. Tell him that the time for final action is near. Tonight we celebrate, for tomorrow we begin the preparations for our final assault.”
((OOC: Ok, I tried to tie up some loose ends here and get my charries back on track. Sorry I have been so long since my last post. I’ve been dealing with home life and strep throat. :/ Arg. Hope you enjoy!))
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| anduril269 |
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| elflyn |
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| Salkiethia |
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| dreamdancer |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!)
on: May 31, 2006 01:23
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Bellas hadn’t *really* minded Hanni latching on to him with an iron grip to begin with, knowing that she had probably never ridden a horse before (and sure that it seemed a long way to fall to her). Having her powerful arms wrapped firmly about him for the entire ride, however, was something of a bother- for one, it made breathing a bit difficult, and the elf found it impossible to get comfortable in the saddle. He didn’t complain, though (not that he’d have been able to) and decided that it was for the mission. He had offered her the ride, hadn’t he? To his own annoyance, his mind wandered to Neth for a great portion of the traveling. He still felt guilty for making her run off like she had, though he still wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done- but he couldn’t wipe the image of her tear-filled eyes from his memory. She’d left Imladris…. So, where had she gone? He prayed she hadn’t ended up being caught or killed, and he hoped that she’d be at home when he got back (if he got back). He’d always worried for her.
When they finally came to a halt and Glyndr ordered everyone to dismount, Bellas was faced with another problem. His passenger, at first, simply refused to release her hold on him. She’d been hard enough to lift into the horse, though, and the smith was certain it would end with a great deal of pain for both of them if he attempted to dismount with the dwarf attached to his waist. More than likely they’d both topple off the horse in a heap and probably get trampled to death- which wouldn’t help them, or the rest of those who’d come on the rescue. Finally, after several moments of explaining that concept, he’d convinced Hanni to let go and steady herself on the horse so he could dismount- and as soon as he’d turned around she came falling into his arms, nearly sending him over sideways.
But, Bellas didn’t fall or drop his shorter passenger, and despite that he was certain the ride back would be no better, he couldn’t help the shadow of a smile at the grumbling way in which she handled the aftermath of long riding. For himself, Bellas stretched and was silent as Glyndr, Eadoin and Diablo went to look at the camp (after convincing his already-annoyed stallion to lie down with a heartfelt promise of sugar and oats upon their return to Imladris). He felt edgy and uncertain, and didn’t offer any ideas when it was decided that they would wait until dark before making any move. The smith inwardly wondered why he’d been brought at all- he could use a sword well enough, of course, but all he had was the dagger. There were others more skilled in this sort of thing than he… but, the black horse had been insistent, and if Glyndr trusted its ‘choice’…
The time neared, and Glyndr shared his plan. Bellas nodded in acceptance of what he would be doing- it was wise for him to use his elven sight to keep watch. When Hanni accepted her task as well, even that she would have to be dressed as an orc, his respect for her increased tenfold. He also couldn’t help but admire the two from Rohan who would actually go with the Captain into the camp. The smith thought cringingly of the captives, wondering what condition they would be in. An extra horse had been brought for Narmion, and he hoped that the elf would be able to ride by himself. He was more worried for the boy- Narmion was a warrior, after all, was stronger and had more years on him. Rolan was just a child!
The eerie voice of a lone owl heralded the deep indigo of darkness.
“We go in now”, Glyndr purred, He was ready, every muscle and nerve in his body tense.
“Everyone to your posts you know what to do .Do whatever you have to , but , take no unnecessary risks, If all goes wrong, No heroes, get out as best you can ”.
With a curt nod Bellas accompanied the captain to the edge of the camp, inwardly cringing when he beheld its size. The noise of a clearly orcish celebration was loud and obnoxious- it was pure luck that that distraction was already in place. Moving to a place where he could see better, the elven smith situated himself against a tree and stood still and silent, waiting.
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Lower lip slightly protruding in a petulant pout against the world at large, Istalë sighed and patted Lalaith's shoulder.
"I worry, too."
Lalaith offered a dismal smile to show she appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t do much to comfort her. She watched as Amata went to find her brother, inwardly hoping that the half-elf and her sibling would be able to talk and get along… but she knew it was probably not likely. Such a thing was difficult for her to understand. She missed her own brother sorely- if only she could have him back, she was certain she’d never argue with him ever again.
For a few minutes she stood in silence, searching for something to say. She couldn’t think of anything, though- but the silence between herself and Istale was companionable, so she didn’t worry too much about it. Before long Amata returned, clearly annoyed, and sat on the ground beyond the porch without saying a word. Lalaith shared a look with Istale and then went down to sit beside her half-elven friend, not caring about getting her dress dirty or not.
“Are you alright?” she asked, knowing the answer, “Did you find Faeringil?”
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One step, two steps, and he was right in front of Delvan, restraining himself - barely - from dealing a powerful punch to the other man's smirking face.
"Be glad I handle horses as well as I do," Dirk said quietly. His voice was filled with venom and contempt for Delvan. Although, he wasn't quite sure the other man would pick up on the tone that spoke volumes. He wasn't sure he considered the other man to be of a high enough life form to understand. "If I couldn't, then right now all these," he swept a hand out behind him to indicate the horses that were standing stock-still watching, "would be on you right now. They know more than you give them credit for. They know who will do right by them."
A bitter look replaced the rage, though anger still burned deep in Dirk's heart. "As to the black, I'm sure he's still outside Ondet's tent, starving while he waits for Di'shan to break him in."
Delvan wasn’t intimidated. Mostly he was annoyed that Dirk didn’t seem intimidated either. Usually he could make any one of the men in the camp cower and look uncomfortable. Clearly, the horses were a tender subject with this one. And clearly, Dirk either didn’t know, or wouldn’t admit that he too had noticed the black stallion missing.
“Very well,” the Captain snorted, “As long as the beasts know to do what they’re told, I have no qualms with them.”
He turned his back on Dirk and went back to his tent, spotting Di’Shan leaving Ondet’s and looking *very* pleased. He could only guess what had happened, but he smirked to himself, thinking he knew well enough.
When Ondet soon announced a celebration, and that their preparations for the assault on Imladris would begin the next day, Delvan was extremely pleased. He’d been waiting eagerly for this chance- to prove himself to Ondet, and maybe (if the chance presented itself during battle) to get rid of Morgai. Plus, he was just ready to do battle.
When the celebration started, he hung around and joined in for a while… but he grew tired of watching the orcs, and hearing their uncouth jabbering. He took a flask and wandered to his own tent, sitting in the shadows and musing on the next day, and plans that were already unfolding.
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His pain was worse than it had yet been, but the fear and anguish on his mind and soul were much harder to bear. Narmion now lay on the tent floor, gazing silently and morosely at Rolan’s prostrate form just a few feet away. The time passing had become an endless watery blur, so the elf couldn’t guess how many hours- or days- had gone by since he and the child had been captured. All he could really tell was that the tormentor had made sure every one was horrendous- even now that Di’Shan had gone (his promise to resume the torture later not comforting in the least) the torment continued. It wasn’t only the various new hurts he’d received- several cuts on his arms that still stung, countless bruises… his hair had been cruelly and painfully chopped to a much shorter length as well, but that certainly didn’t matter. Worse was the still-vivid memory of what had been done to Rolan. No matter what the boy had thought about it (before he’d passed out) Narmion still felt that he was to blame. He couldn’t rid himself of the guilt over the fact that he’d broken and told Di’Shan everything he’d sworn not to tell. In his own pathetic weakness he’d betrayed his friends.
The most anguish came not from his own pain or guilt, though- it came from the blood-stained dagger that rested within his reach. The tight bindings that had been holding his wrists were gone; his hands were free, albeit the throbbing right arm wasn’t of much use. The dagger had been left by Di’Shan, the first thing close to an act of mercy that the evil mad had done. Narmion could use it to put Rolan out of his misery, or himself, or both- and the elf had actually considered it. His shaking fingers had brushed the hilt, but he’d known he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and for that he was ashamed; he didn’t even have the inner strength to save the child from any further despair! Not even when he knew they had no chance of coming out alive…! There was no way he’d use the dagger on himself and leave the boy to suffer, so now he’d resigned himself to silence, and waiting, just hoping that the end was close- and end he couldn’t bring himself.
When Di’Shan came in he tensed, afraid, and was not comforted to hear the man was leaving. That would only mean that someone else would take over, probably- maybe even orcs, as Di’Shan had threatened. Still looking sorrowfully on Rolan, Narmion finally just willed himself over to unconsciousness- and, so tired was he in every way, that his body did as he wished, and succumbed to darkness.
(I’m sure this makes no sense… writing and being rushed by everyone in the house >< please let me know if I need to edit anything!)
[Edited on 31/5/2006 by dreamdancer]
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| Nimeneth |
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| otterling |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!)
on: June 04, 2006 06:28
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((OOC: I am Sooooooooo sorry this took so long. Hope you all enjoy.))
The Captain pushed a stray lock of hair behind a bejeweled pointed ear, then fixed his sharp gaze on Hanni.
“Dwarf, you will act as our diversion”, he smiled his half smile , but his voice was deadly serious as he said, “ You of all of us ,are most likely to be taken as an orc, with your stature and armour”.
In all the history of all the dwarves, never had there been such a bristling of whiskers or a face as red as the one Hanni bore as the words left Glyndr’s mouth. “Wha…I….you….,” she finished with a guttural growl and slapped her hammer into her open palm as punctuation and promise of things to come. Never had Hanni been so insulted in her life. An orc? This willowy twig of an immortal dared to say she favored an ORC? Every muscle in her body was set a quiver with irritation and her whiskers were twitching so rapidly now that she could have set fire to brush had she been close enough. In her apoplectic fit Hanni’s mouth opened and closed giving her the impression of a great fuzzy goldfish that had been tossed out onto land. Oh, this elf was just asking for bloodied kneecaps.
Glyndr paused as he awaited her reaction, “No offence intended, but needs must. You will lure those closest to the tent towards a fire some distance away”. The smile returned briefly, “I am sure that you can think of some interesting diversion”. The Elf Captain glanced towards Bellas, then back to Hanni, “ Dwarf, keep the damned demons occupied, and distracted until you see the smith’s signal. That signal means that we have the prisoners, and are on our way out of there. At the signal, cut their horses free from the lines, as many of the animals as you can. That will be the diversion that gives us the chance to escape unnoticed”. He allowed himself a ghost of a grin, “I know how much you like horses”.
“Why you…,” Hanni snorted, grumbled, growled and cursed the day she met this ice captain, which, in dwarvish, was a truly unpleasant sound. “Indeed,” she began when she had finally found words to force between the opening and closing of her mouth, “and I suppose you want me to walk in there and start up a conversation until then?! Despite the fact that you are obviously blind and cannot tell the difference between and orc and a dwarf, an offence that will likely get your legs cut out from under ye’, those ugly brutes in there aren’t going to be fooled.” Hanni puffed out her chest and offered Glyndr a challenging smile, “No offence intended of course, I’m just pointing out, an orc might be smarter than you.” Hanni nodded once, just for show really, and then put her hand on her hip and dropped the head of her hammer to the ground. The captain seemed to ignore her outburst for the most part and he turned to address the rest of the group, assigning tasks to each that would aid in their escape. Finally, the captain turned back to the huffing little dwarf and smiled, the light of mischief in his eyes.
The Captain looked at Hanni thoughtfully; sizing her up and down, “Wait here” he said as he slid ghost like into the tall ferns. A short while later he returned with a pile of orc armour, its wandering, careless, original owner no longer needed it after its meeting with the Captain. “Wear that, I think it is your size”.
Hanni stared incredulously at the filthy armor thrust out before her. Aside from just being dinged and dingy, it held to it a reek all it’s own that only an orc could produce. Hanni wrinkled up her nose and squinted against the almost tangible onslaught of that smell. Surely the captain was joking, a joke she felt had gone too far, but as the armor continued to hover just before her face, the realization hit that this was no joke. The ice captain was being serious. “I can’t wear that,” Hanni gruffed in complaint, “I’ll never get the smell out of my own clothes!” The captain stood unwavering, a ghost of a smile playing across his face. He was enjoying this. The mere idea of wearing the orc armor offended Hanni enough to set her whiskers twitching once again and she shook her head no, “it’s inferior armor. I’ll get myself killed wearing that!” Still the ice captain did not budge, the armor extended to its reluctant recipient. “I’ll still have red hair! And who ever saw a female orc? They don’t actually exist I tell you.” Each successive excuse was met with the unblinking stare of the captain who simply wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Never,” she finally declared in a tone that brooked no argument, “you’ll never get me into that filthy mess.”
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Thirty minutes later, Hanni pushed through the last of the brush before stepping into the clearing leading to the camp. It had taken some twenty minutes to convince her to get into the armor and another ten just to pry her war hammer out of her hands. The hammer would stand out far too much in the midst of orcs and it was only when Bellas had taken the hammer, and sworn upon seven generations of his kin that he would make sure it came to no harm, that Hanni finally relinquished it. Now she found herself moving with a discomfort borne not only for the grimy metal she had been foisted into but also by the nagging fear in her heart that she would soon be discovered. For the fourth time in so many minutes, she pulled and tugged on the uncomfortable breast plate she was squeezed into; the armor had not been made with her ample dwarven bosom in mind and even now she drew a deep breath and felt her eyes roll skyward at the pressure put on her sensitive chest. May all the Dwarf Lord’s forbid that she get into a fight here as she was sure one hit would split this armor off of her in a moment. Hanni mentally cursed the captain to die many painful deaths, preferably being eaten alive by rats, as she shuffled uncomfortably towards the thick swarm of orcs just ahead. The visor on her orc helmet had to be pulled down to cover her face but Hanni could hardly breathe through the stench which rolled off the inside.
The fear of discovery grew in her heart and finally blotted out the smell of her armor, leaving her eyes darting about the inside of the helm as she strained to see through the meager cracks through which it afforded a view of the camp. The only part of the dwarf not now covered in armor was her bottom, which, having proven a little to ample even by orc standards, would not fit into any piece of metal the captain and his band of elves had tried to force over it. Hanni finally arrived at the first small campfire where the orcs were huddled around in a drunken stupor. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept walking, waiting at any moment for the swarm to descend upon her. After a few moments though, Hanni paused and carefully opened one eye. She had moved right past the first circle without as much as a word, leaving behind her four orcs who were never the wiser to the traitor. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and Hanni immediately regretted the action as it seemed to stir up what ever was in the helm with her causing the stench. Hanni coughed a few times and tried to entertain herself with new pains she could inflict upon the ice captain as she made her way deeper into the camp. She had just decided on rubbing fresh peppers into the crotch of all his armor when her thoughts were interrupted by a rough hand on her shoulder.
Hanni froze. Her heart leapt up into her throat and she instinctively reached for a hammer that was no longer there. The hand whipped her around and she found herself face to face with a large ugly brute, his beady black eyes roving the visor which protected her identity. The beast wore a slightly fancier armor than her own which still wasn’t saying much considering that it was an orc, but it gave the impression he was a leader of some sort or another. The monster grunted and growled in her direction, mere inches from her face, and shook her shoulder roughly. It was obviously trying to talk to her in its own tongue but Hanni had never bothered to learn orc, having nothing really to say to the beasts that a hammer couldn’t translate, and so she stood helplessly in its grasp as the thing breathed a foul odor right into the cracks of her helmet. It was in that moment that Hanni decided the ice captain had chosen a particularly clean orc when he’d grabbed her armor, for it paled in comparison by far to the vile smell which accosted her now. Hanni was sure her eyelashes had just curled up and her nose hairs simply had to be singed by such an onslaught. She could not imagine what one would have to eat to reproduce such a smell and she decided she’d rather not find out. The lead orc seemed to be asking her a question judging by the tone of its last grunt and Hanni, not knowing what else to do, shrugged helplessly.
That seemed a good enough answer for the leader who released her and stormed off in the direction she had been heading. He paused a few feet ahead and motioned for her to follow. Having little alternative, Hanni complied and scuffled off after him. The orc cut a rather clear path through the party goers, tossing a few clean out of his way when he felt they were moving too slow until, at last, he stopped before a large tent near the center of camp. Two guards stood outside the opening, still and straight, the only sign thus far that these beasts were capable of military action, and Hanni allowed her eyes to roam over the tent itself while the orc leader yelled at one of the guards. The tent reeked of evil and its fabric sides seemed to writhe in the flickering light of torches and campfires, sending chills down Hanni’s spine. Without being given a chance to argue, Hanni was thrust towards the tent flap and pushed inside. She stumbled upon her entry and then spun back to look at the leader who grunted a few choice words at her and then disappeared in all haste from the tent, not that Hanni could really blame him. She stood glaring at the door, trying to decide if she could risk just walking back out the way she came in, when a soft whimpering sound caught her attention from somewhere deeper in the tent. Slowly, cautiously, Hanni turned in a circle where she was, here eyes scanning the tent walls for the source of that noise. It was only when it sounded again that she looked down to discover a sad sight at her feet.
There lay an elf man, tattered, torn, bruised and bloodied, his fingers outstretched towards a blade lying just out of reach. The elf’s hair had been cut short and his arms were laced with thin, angry red lines. He was shivering ever so slightly and his eyes were squeezed shut. The elf’s legs were still tied together and blood was splattered across the floor in a myriad of crisscrossing lines. To his right, laying still and silent, was a sight that had Hanni trying not to vomit in her helmet. A human boy lay bound and curled up on the floor, his hair, chest, and neck a mess of dried and crusted blood, but it was the two crimson tears that had stained the youthful face which left Hanni shaking slightly.
In all the heavens and all the abyss, what evil would do this to a child?
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| anduril269 |
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| Salkiethia |
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| elflyn |
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| Nimeneth |
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| Salkiethia |
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| dreamdancer |
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| Sirithros_Lirenel |
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| Iell-daughter-of-elves |
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| Nimeneth |
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| elflyn |
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| otterling |
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| Iell-daughter-of-elves |
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| Salkiethia |
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Author
May not be back to post for a couple days. Possible camp trip if weather holds. You can move Dia, Ari and Rolan if necessary.
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