| BerethEdhellen |
 A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 23, 2007 01:29
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Tolkien had begun a 4th age story that he never completed. In this introduction, much condensed and abbreviated, there are direct and paraphrased quotes directly from this tale which he titled, "The New Shadow." For those interested, this tale can be found in HOMES #12.
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Elessar had died, Arwen had faded away. The reign of the first king of Gondor in centuries had passed. Their son Eldarion now sat on the throne in the great Citadel of Minas Tirith. All was well in Gondor, and indeed in all of Middle-Earth, yet there was something dark growing beneath the blue skies of those long and sunny days.
Some hundred years after the Dark Lord was vanquished, the land of Middle-Earth was a comfortable and peaceful place to inhabit. There was little poverty as businesses flourished and families lived a leisurely, comfortable life. Few still lived who remembered the great war of the ring. There was little to complain about....and therein lay the problem.
It was too peaceful, too comfortable. Where was the excitement, the exhilarating days of their grandparents. What was there to fight for, what was out there to stretch one's limits, to prove oneself as a man like the famous grandfathers.
The great city felt it first; the small break-ins of pubs and inns after hours, the groups of ruffians parading through the streets, the growth of civil disobedience. The soldiers were slack and spent more time drinking ale than training with their weapons...what was there to train for? Nothing was happening in the city or the surrounding countryside.
It spread outward from Minas Tirith to the small villages. Thefts of pigs and crops grew, though no one was so poor that anyone actually needed what was stolen. Windows of cottages were broken in the night, and young men ran wild through the streets, stealing purses from their neighbors' arms as they were searching the local markets for their evening meal.
But it was not the open thrill seeking that was the most dangerous. It was the quiet ones, the ones who appeared to be part of the community but who met in secret to scheme and plan. What they spoke about in the deep forests of Emyn Arnen in the dark of night was known only to them.
Although Saelon knew; Saelon who was son of the local blacksmith and sold timber on the side, giving him a reason to be deep in the forests; Saelon who attended these late night meetings for his own reasons.
But on this late afternoon, he was spending time with Borlas, the aged father of his life-long friend, Berelach, the commander of Gondor's fleet of ships, who was away at sea. He often visited with the ancient elder, the younger son of Beregond who had been Captain of Faramir's Guard during the old war. With Borlas being of such great age, and his son away more than he was home, Saelon took it upon himself to ensure the old man's welfare in Berelach's absence.
In a quiet moment, Borlas intoned, "Deep indeed run the roots of Evil,' said Borlas, 'and the black sap is strong in them. That tree will never be slain. Let men hew it as often as they may, it will thrust up shoots again as soon as they turn aside."
Saelon glanced at Borlas, saying, "Plainly you think you are speaking wise words. I guess that by the gloom in your voice, and by the nodding of your head. But what is this all about? Your life seems fair enough still, for an aged man that does not now go far abroad. Where have you found a shoot of your dark tree growing? In your own garden?"
Borlas glanced up at Saelon, busy trimming a whistle of green willow with his knife, wondering if the young man, usually gay and often half mocking, had more in his mind than appeared in his face. From the arbor in his garden where they were sitting, Borlas' eyes surveyed their surroundings, noting the great Anduin flowing below them and his small stone house on the hill above, then the far off towers of Minas Tirith gleaming in the glow of late afternoon. "No, not in my garden," he said thoughtfully.
Their conversation turned darker, as Saelon reminded Borlas of his reaction to Saelon's theft of an apple when but a child, and what Borlas had called it. "Orc's work!" and went on to describe his own anger, ending with, "I grew out of petty thefts, but I did not forget the Orcs. I began to feel hatred and think of the sweetness of revenge." Smiling, he ended with, "But that was a long time ago."
Startled, Borlas wondered whether deep down, as deep as the roots of the dark trees, the childish resentment did not still linger, even in the heart of his son's friend, who had in the last few years shown him kindness in his loneliness. They continued in this line of conversation for some time, arguing philosophically until Borlas, deeply disturbed, finally said as the sun set behind Mindolluin and a chill breeze blew through the leaves, "But we have spoken enough of this."
Saelon responded. "We have hardly begun. It was not of your orchard, nor your apples, nor of me, that you were thinking when you spoke of the re-arising of the dark tree. What you were thinking of, Master Borlas, I can guess nonetheless. I have eyes and ears, and other senses, Master." His voice sank low and could scarcely be heard above the murmur of the sudden chill wind in the leaves, as the sun sank behind Mindolluin. "You have heard then the name?" With hardly more than breath he formed it. "Of Herumor?"
The look of fear and amazement in Borlas' eyes prompted Saelon to say, "I see that you have. But you seem astonished to learn that I have heard it also. But you are not more astonished than I to see that this name has reached you. For, as is say, I have keen eyes and ears, but yours are now dim even for daily use, and the matter has been kept as secret as cunning could contrive."
"Whose cunning?" Borlas asked fiercely. His eyes blazed with anger.
"Why, those who have heard the call of the name, of course," Saelon answered unperturbed. "There are not many yet, to set against all the people of Gondor, but the number is growing. Not all are content since the Great King died, and fewer now are afraid.
"What is the call? What would they do?" Borlas cried. After bandying questions back and forth for another few moments, Saelon spoke
"Still, if you really wish to know, I could perhaps make the whispers clearer to you." He stood before adding, "There will be clouds over the moon tonight. I warn you rather to clothe yourself warmly after nightfall," he said. "That is, if you wish to learn more; for if you do, you will come with me on a journey tonight. I will meet you at your eastern gate behind your house; or at least I shall pass that way as soon as it is full dark, and you shall come or not as you will. I shall be clad in black, and anyone who goes with me must be clad alike. Farewell now, Master Borlas! Take counsel with yourself while the light lasts."
Saelon bowed and turned away, taking a path that ran near the edge of the steep shore, disappearing around the bend, his last words still echoing in Borlas's ears. Borlas stood, staring out into the now darkening garden, lost in thought before finally saying to himself, 'Well, what is to be done now? Clearly Saelon is in it. But is it clear? There was the sound of mockery in his words, and scorn of the ordered life of Men. He would not answer a straight question. The black clothes! And yet-why invite me to go with him?'
Slowly but steadily climbing the hill to his house, he thought, ' Perhaps I have been preserved so long for this purpose: that the one should still live, hale in mind, who remembers what went before the Great Peace. Scent has a long memory. I think I could still smell the old Evil, and know it for what it is.'
The door under the porch was open, but the house behind was darkling. There seemed to be none of the accustomed sounds of evening, only a soft silence, a dead silence. He entered and called out but there was no answer. He halted in the narrow passageway and it seemed that he was wrapped in blackness, not a glimmer of twilight of the world outside remained here. Suddenly he smelt it, the old Evil and knew it for what it was.
[Edited on 24/11/2007 by BerethEdhellen]
[Edited on 16/12/2007 by BerethEdhellen]
[Edited on 7/12/2010 by BerethEdhellen]
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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| BerethEdhellen |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 23, 2007 06:54
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((Joint post between gwendeth and BerethEdhellen))
A hard knock on the door and a gruff voice calling his name woke Saelon at once. Though it was before dawn, his father Duilin had been waking him the same way for years, anxious for both of them to get to work by the time the sun rose. Saelon stretched and glanced out the window at the darkness. He had not arrived home until after midnight the night before, and had not had enough sleep to encourage him to bound out of bed. Still, he knew his father's wrath if he didn't, so slowly he climbed out of bed, just as slowly bathing himself in the bowl in the corner of the room and then dressing.
By the time he was finished and had wandered blearily into the kitchen, his father was already standing by the door, ready to leave. With his hand on the door knob, he ordered his son to be at the forge quickly, as there were "deliveries of completed orders that need to be made first thing this morning." Saelon watched his father leave before grabbing a hunk of cheese and bread from the table and bending to pick up his bag.
Following in his father's footsteps, his mind went back to the night before ... not only the meeting in the woods but also the odd absence of Borlas. For a change, he was actually grateful to have to make deliveries as it would give him time to check on the old man...and see his contact. When he arrived at the forge on the main street of the village, his father was already building the fire for the day and a stack of paper wrapped packages sat outside the building.
"Take the pony cart, Saelon. There is quite a large group there to be delivered." Saelon nodded and went behind the forge to a small shed, in which was sheltered the pony and where the cart was stored. Putting together the harness for the pony, he attached it to the cart, then led the pony outside and to the front of the forge, loading on the cast iron pots, a few swords, and a stack of horseshoes for the farmer on the hill along with the rest of the items. Climbing up onto the cart and waving farewell to his father, he clicked his tongue and the pony began to pull the cart along the road.
When he approached the house of Borlas, he veered off onto the pathway that ran past the east gate, slowing the pony to a halt as they reached it. Glancing up the hill, he noted smoke coming from the chimney and smiled. 'The old man has returned,' he thought to himself, about to nudge the pony onward when he saw a figure through the window that did NOT look like Borlas' small, bent frame. Had someone invaded the old man's house, perhaps the one responsible for Borlas' absence??
Jerking the pony to a stop without thinking, he jumped from the ground, tying the reins to the gatepost. Opening the gate, he ran to the top of the hill, banging on the door of the cottage. When the door opened, Saelon eyes opened wide in surprise.
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Despite that he was tired, Berelach was too concerned over his father's 'whereabouts' to seek much sleep. - Or, rather, though he‘d *tried* to sleep, it had eluded him, so he‘d risen, and bathed his face and begun searching the cottage again… looking for any possible 'clue' as to where Borlas might have gone.
Peeking into the attic, however, as his eyes rested on a wooden trunk therein, the young Sea-Commander paused, and bit his lip. - But, setting down the lantern he'd brought with him, as he checked it, the trunk was locked, and had a coating of dust that 'said' it hadn't been touched in ages. - Nonetheless, Berelach hurried down to his father's study, and rummaged through the drawers and shelves for the key. Upon his return, and taking a deep breath, Berelach unlocked and opened the trunk.
Yet, what had been 'stashed' there, still remained… well-wrapped in a blanket against easy 'sight' by any thief who might have come in. Relieved, Berelach replaced the covering, and relocked the trunk. - Though, he couldn't help but wonder if the 'secret' inside it, might have yet had 'something' to do with his father's disappearance.
Going back down to the kitchen, the sailor stoked the fire (which had dwindled a bit) and then heated some water for another cup of tea. The morning was still early, and Berelach was only waiting until it was 'late' enough to seek out Saelon and whatever answers his friend might have. Though, some time later, and before he could do so, the sound of a halting by the gate 'caught' the young man's attention. - And then, the door to his father's cottage was yanked open, and…
"Berelach!! When did you get home? And how is your father? He was not here when I stopped by last night and I was just stopping to see if he had made it home." But the expression on Berelach's face answered his own question. "He's not back yet, is he?" Saelon said quietly. "Where could he have gone?" he asked of no one.
"Saelon!" Berelach had been SO glad to see his friend… but at Saelon's questions, his face 'fell'. "I was hoping you would know where father went!" he answered, yet gripped his childhood friend's arm in greeting. "How long as he been gone?" the Commander asked, and, "Sit - I'll fetch you some tea!" and nodded to a chair in the small living room… and wondered if he 'ought' to
mention what was in the trunk upstairs.
Saelon looked at Berelach, his oldest friend, his brow furrowed with concern but he simply nodded and wandered into the sitting room, where he dropped in the chair, his long legs sprawled across the floor, his mind racing. Where was Borlas? It was so unlike him to not be home so where could he have gone? His head was resting in his hand when Berelach returned with two mugs of hot tea. Saelon took the one offered to him and holding it between both hands for warmth, as he suddenly felt chilled for some reason, he glanced at Berelach.
"I was with him yesterday afternoon, Berelach. We sat in the garden as the sun was setting." Here he hesitated...should he tell Berelach? Sighing, he realized he must. Borlas was missing and it might have had something to do with his own invitation to the old man that was the cause. Yet, it was difficult to explain to his friend, who he had not seen in years. Taking a quick sip of his tea to ease his throat, which was choked with anguish, he stared at Berelach for a long moment.
"Berelach....there is something....something I must share with you. Only I know not where to begin."
"Only yesterday?" Berelach was puzzled. - Yet, seeing his old friend 'hesitating', "Perhaps at the 'beginning'?" the sailor suggested encouragingly. "Or… what was it you and father were talking about?" he inquired. "Was is it something that 'alarmed' him, somehow?"
And, with a sigh, "I wish I could have sent word that I was planning to visit ahead of time," Berelach groused, but taking a long sip from his mug, hoped he'd given Saelon the 'nudge' he'd needed to 'explain'
"It would have made little difference, Berelach." Saelon's brow furrowed with frustration. What to say, how much should I tell him? Taking a deep breath, he began. "Last evening. I invited him to join me at a meeting....a meeting that would have clarified our conversation. Berelach, I know you have been at sea but have you heard any rumors...rumors about a new shadow rising?"
In the 'midst' of another swallow, Berelach 'choked'. His thoughts going instantly to the trunk in his father's attic, the young man's eyes became 'wary'. No 'toy' was that thing… and if such were to fall into the 'wrong' hands…Yet… Saelon was his oldest and dearest friend, and if *he* could not be trusted (besides Borlas), who could? Carefully though, Berelach 'formed' his reply.
"Whether you call it a 'new shadow', or something else, Saelon, something is not 'right'. The last time I was home, I told father that some of our ships and sailors had gone 'missing'. Quite 'mysteriously', too," Berelach added, though to himself, he suspected the 'object' above was not 'innocent' in all this. Continuing, though, "Suffice to say, yes, I've heard 'rumors' of such. What do *you* know about them, Saelon?" Berelach then inquired…
Once again, Saelon sipped his tea and sat silently for a short time before responding. Glancing up out of the corner of his eye, he lowered his head and stared into his mug as he began.
"There is such a group, my friend. And I am a member of it." Realizing what a shocking statement that was, he hurriedly continued. "Or at least the local group believes me to be. But in truth, I am there to gather information on behalf of our King. Your father has been sensing...an evil growing, I suppose is the best way to put it. Yesterday, we spoke of this evil in subtle and indirect ways but we both knew that is what we were speaking of. I invited him to join me in last night's meeting so he could see for himself."
Lifting his eyes, he looked directly into Berelach's. "I told him I would meet him at the east gate at 8:00. When I arrived, the house was dark. I waited, then climbed to the house. The door was ajar and no one was there. I could not wait so I went on to the meeting...a meeting I might add that offered up an item that I must say has added to my fears about what this group is planning." His eyes wide and staring at his friend. "Berelach, they are in possession of a 'seeing stone', found at Mordor," he almost whispered, fear clear in his expression.
Once again he hesitated but then continued doggedly on. "I wondered about your father throughout the meeting, finally deciding he had gone out for some reason of his own. But on the way home from the meeting, I stopped once again and this time I went through the house. Berelach, there was no one here, and no sign of any disturbance. Everything was in order. That is why I am here now. I determined I should return this morning to see if your father had himself returned." Shaking his head, he felt that same sense of chill running down his spine. "He is not here, and I don't know what to say to you, my friend. He was fine when I left him earlier yesterday evening. I can't explain his absence. There is no reason for it."
At first, Berelach's heart seemed to 'drop' within his chest. Saelon a 'member' of this unknown group? - And yet, the young man both 'relaxed' and became more 'nervous' as his friend's explanation went on. And, even *more* so was he, at the mention of the 'seeing stone'.
Gripping his mug tightly in his hand, Berelach debated within himself. If the Ithil-Stone had been found, and someone had tried to 'use' it… what if Borlas had happened to be looking at…? - If the two had 'connected'… might it not have 'led' to…?
With a deep sigh, and hoping he was doing 'right' by saying such, Berelach set down his cup of tea and rubbed his face with his hands. "Whether or not it's 'related' to my father's disappearance, I don't know, Saelon," he said… keeping his own voice as 'quiet' as his friend's. "I, too, searched the house, but all *seems* as it ‘should’ be - except that father isn’t here. - But… there’s something ‘else’. When I was home last, I brought something with me. - I *think* it might have something to do with the missing sailors, but I can't be sure of that, either. - But, come, and look," and the Gondorian Sea-Commander rose and led Saelon upstairs.
Unlocking the trunk again, Berelach lifted the blanket within. "The Stone of Osgiliath, Saelon!" he whispered, and then shuddering, once again closed the trunk…
As Berelach pulled back the covering blanket, Saelon saw the almost mythological Osgiliath-stone, the largest of them all, said to have been lost in the River Anduin centuries ago. His jaw dropped and he lifted his head to meet Berelach's eyes. "Is that....is that what I think it is? Oh, Eru, what evils have been set in motion?" Reaching down, he ran his fingers over the surface of the globe, feeling a warmth in its black surface, then throwing the blanket over it again. "Close the trunk, Berelach," he said urgently. "We must talk. Let's go downstairs again."
When they were back in the sitting room, Saelon spoke at once, though his voice was soft, fearing that even the walls could hear....and perhaps speak to others the words that passed in this room. "Berelach, I do not know if that," he pointed to the ceiling above their heads, "has anything to do with your father's disappearance but I do know this news, along with the finding of the other one, must be passed on to King Eldarion. I have a ... a friend, who is willing to pass this information on. You know him, or of him, I'm sure. Delagost, Redor's son, who is now an officer with the Citadel Guard. I am to meet him later today at the Wild Boar." He stared at his oldest friend. "Will you join us, Berelach? Will you help us?"
For a long, few moments, Berelach was silent. "I know of him, yes," he answered finally. "As to the King, I think you're right. - As to 'helping' you - if it'll bring my father back safely from wherever he's gotten to, yes, I will. - Nothing could stop me from looking for him," he added firmly.
Glancing out the window and seeing Saelon's cart on the path, Berelach suddenly grinned wanly. "I'll go with you to the Wild Boar - if *your* father will release you from work after taking so long with your deliveries!" he teased his old friend, but very well the sailor knew the blacksmith's personality. Yet, "And… if you think Delagost won’t mind my being with you, I'll be here - waiting for when you‘re done for the day," Berelach said solemnly, and almost wished he'd never brought that dangerous hunk of rock into Borlas' cottage…
Saelon leaned across to Berelach's chair, gripping his arm. "We will find your father, Berelach. Never doubt that." Releasing his grasp, he sat back and chuckled at his friend's comment about the deliveries. "If I don't make these deliveries soon, my father will never allow me to do aught else but stick close to his side. And I have timber sales that await my attention so I can't afford that." Grinning, he added quickly, "I must go, Berelach. And when I am done, I will return here for you and we will meet with Delagost...and let him know there is a new ally. He will, I think, be glad to hear that."
Standing, he clapped his hand on Berelach's shoulder. "Perhaps we can return here this evening to speak in seclusion. Hopefully, your father will have returned by that time. Farewell for now, my friend." Hurrying back to the cart, he clicked his tongue and the pony began to move along the path, as Saelon thought about the deliveries that were yet to be made and the coming meeting with Delagost at the end of his work day.
Hoping so as well, Berelach waited until Saelon had disappeared from sight, and then retreated back into the cottage. He was tired… too tired, and now that his friend had headed off, fatigue 'descended' on the Sea-Commander with full force.
Yet… even 'unhappier' about the 'object' resting above, Berelach double checked that all the windows and doors to his father's house were secure, and then added an 'extra' to the portal leading to Borlas' attic. Carefully opening the door, and bending down, Berelach set a slender piece of string near the bottom of it, and then closed it again.
It wasn't, he knew, anything that would be 'noticeable' by anyone else… but if anyone but him were to enter that room when he was not 'here', Berelach would know it had happened. - And then, he retired again to his old bedroom to try and catch a few hours of sleep… drawing now on the 'experience' of years at sea to take any available moment for rest. What the evening would bring… or the morrow, he didn't know, but as he drifted off to sleep, "Where are you, father?" was the whisper on his lips…
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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| dreamdancer |
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 26, 2007 04:05
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The three young men were seated in the Wild Boar Tavern at a round table with Baldir, who had ordered drinks all around. Grinning and smirking at each other, they were feeling very smug to be sitting with the Gondorian guard. There had seemed a passing glimmer of emotion in Baldir's expression when they had turned over the dark ugly globe to him the night before, but he had said only that they had brought someting of 'interest', though he had not expanded upon that. However, at the time, they had had only a brief moment to spend with him as he was on his way somewhere and had to leave quickly.
So this small meeting was to give him a full report of their findings....not that there had been any other than the globe, they determined. As the latest in a long line of Azner's serving wenches delivered their ale. Kamerin nudged Marein's side as he nodded his head in the young woman's direction, commenting in a whisper in his friend's ear, "About time Azner got a good looking barmaid, eh?" They were both snickering when Baldir scraped his chair forward and their laughter died at the intensity of his expression.
Baldir, his long fingers entwined through the handle of his mug of ale, his back to the room, leaned forward, saying in a low voice, "Alright, boys. Suppose you tell me everything you found on your trip....and keep your voices low. This is nothing of interest to anyone else but us."
Marein began by complaining about the long hike through the arid land, but Baldir interrupted with impatience, saying roughly, "I have no interest in your problems. Any soldier faces problems. I asked what you found. Is there anyone at this table that can address that?"
The three glanced at each other, their heads bowed, before Kamerin spoke quietly. "Sir, other than the globe which we already gave you, we did find a staircase under the rubble. It went deep into the ground and was very dark. But we lit a faggot or two and tried to go below." His face crumpled with disgust as he recalled what they had seen and he looked at Bergin. "You tell him, Bergin. You went the furthest."
Bergin frowned at his own memories but he hesitantly began to explain to Baldir what they had seen. "There were bones...many bones. And tables...and racks with metal rods and wrist cuffs hanging next to them. It looked....well, sir, it looked like people...or someone had been tortured. It was really....ugly. But Kamerin is right. I ventured further into another room. There were...I don't know what they were. Like buried bodies but not... I could see them only slightly, like through a stained glass, but they didn't look human." He bowed his head even lower and his voice dropped to a bare whisper. "I ran, sir. They gave me chills as they looked like they could break right through and ... I was scared." His eyes could not meet Baldir's in his shame, thinking to himself that the great Baldir would not have run, but in doing so he missed the gleam that filled Baldir's eyes.
Baldir was silent for a long time and Bergin raised his eyes, watching the aloof guard. Baldir turned to him suddenly, his cold, silvery eyes meeting Bergin's. "I want you to go back. I want you to search further, including the rooms you mentioned. You are to give me a full report of what you see, including the number of these strange burials." Though he smiled at Bergin, the smile never reached his eyes as he added, "I can assure you, you will not be in harm's way. Whatever you saw cannot harm you."
After some further conversation about when and how this second trip could begin, Baldir stood abruptly and staring down at the young men, leaning forward with both hands on the table. In a low voice, he warned them, "I must get back to Minas Tirith for my leave is over. I will try to get back for a day or two however as soon as possible. Remember....you are not to mention this to anyone. If you speak of this, you speak only to me. Am I clear on this?" All three nodded their heads furiously in agreement, and Baldir strode off. The young men were left staring at each other before Marein sputtered, "We..um...we have to ...go back there?"
"Looks like," Bergin sighed. "I wonder what could be so important about a bunch of bones and weird buried things," he seemed to ask of no one. Shortly thereafter, the young men finished their pints and wandered out into the evening air. Bergin breathed deeply and then turned to his friends. "Still, it's another adventure ... and we are being paid well for it.
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Baldir rose from the dinner table after a meal eaten almost in silence. Aunt Melarin was normally such, as she was not given to words unless necessary. And eating required no words, as far as she was concerned. But Cenewith and her brother Baldir usually shared more conversation than had been shared this night. Baldir is in one of his 'moods' tonight, Cenewith decided. He had been out the night before and had not returned until the wee hours of the morning and all day he had been scowling and quiet. Though she was accustomed to her brother's 'moods', they never failed to make her unhappy about them. He was home so infrequently and because she missed him when he was away, she hoped to have his company when he was home. But of late, he scowled more often and and was gone more often as well.
Right now, he was reaching for his cloak and Cenewith pleaded, "Baldir, must you go out yet again tonight? I was so hoping we could play a card game or something together. You've had leave for a month and you might just as well not have been here at all." Her soft amber eyes met his silver ones and she quailed. The glare that met her was almost frightening, yet he was her brother. The glare could not be meant for her. Gently she asked, "Brother, what is troubling you? Is there any way I can help?"
His eyes softened and he smiled one of the few smiles he ever gave anyone but was always there for his young sister. "I'm sorry, Cenewith. I have much business and simply being relieved of duty for a few weeks does not relieve me of those chores. I must go now. But perhaps before I leave for Minas Tirith on the following morning, we could have dinner tomorrow night at the Wild Boar, dinner out so that you and Aunt Melarin will not have to cook. Would that please you?"
Glancing at her silent Aunt, she gleefully responded. "Oh yes, that would please me well, brother. Would it not be a treat, Aunt?" Melarin looked out of the corner of her eye and a small smile touched her lips. She recalled when these two children had come to live with her, years upon years ago. Cenewith had been but a child then but a more sweet personality could not have been had by any child then had been hers. Baldir on the other hand had always been aloof, distant and cold, except where Cenewith was concerned. And Cenewith adored her older brother, so the thought of being treated to his company for an evening delighted her. Melarin decided to give them the evening to themselves and thus answered, "You two go and enjoy your evening as I will enjoy one alone for a change."
Baldir bent to kiss Cenewith on her forehead, saying, "There, then that's decided. Tomorrow evening will be ours, sister. But now I must go or I shall be late. Do not wait up for me."
He quietly tred the hidden pathways deep into the hills and the forest until he came to a well hidden cave. Looking to his left, his right and behind him as though fearing he had been followed, he quickly entered the cave. There was a small fire deep inside and sitting in the shadows was a man, deeply hooded. Baldir squatted next to the fire, stretching out his hands as if to warm them.
"We have the Ithil-stone. Now all we have to do is find the Osgiliath-stone, which I believe is no longer buried in the silt of the Anduin, though I cannot say yet where it is. The boys have proven our suspicions. There are yet Uruk-hai buried beneath the ruins of Mordor. I am sending them back again to find what they can." Glancing at the man across the fire from him, he asked, "Is there anything you would have me do beyond what has been done?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saelon had been late arriving home from his deliveries and Duilin was mightily angry. He was more so when his son told his mother he would not be there for dinner and was about to sputter in fury until Saelon said, "Berelach has returned home. I will be eating with him at the Wild Boar." Duilin relaxed immediately. If there was anyone who had been a good influence on his once wild young son, it had been his best friend, Berelach. Saelon bathed and changed into a clean tunic and trousers, then kissing his mother on her forehead and smiling at his father, he left to walk to Borlas's house to meet with his friend.
Saelon entered the Wild Boar Tavern with Berelach at his side, eyes searching immediately for the person he was here to meet, and a slight smile crossed his lips as he saw Delagost seated in a far corner of the room. Weaving his way through the tables, greeting people he knew or waving at others, he made his way to the table. He noted Azner's newest serving wench near the bar and nodded to her. He understood from Azner, for whom his father had forged several large pots when they first set up business here, that she had only newly arrived from Rohan and thus he had not yet had the opportunity to meet her, though he was impressed by her appearance. She was a small boned, slender yet highly attractive young woman, even dressed in the drab dress she was currently wearing...and Saelon never missed an attractive woman.
When the two friends reached the table, he noted Delagost's questioning look at Saelon's companion. Sitting next to the Citadel guard, his back to the room, he waved Berelach to the seat next to him before introducing him to Delagost.
"Del, this is Berelach, Admiral of the King's Fleet. I've brought him along tonight as I think what he has to share will be of great interest to 'our friend'." He kept his voice just above a whisper as what they had to speak with his friend about was not something he wanted to share with the rest of the customers.
As the two men greeted each other, his mind slipped back ten years or more as it always did when he was with his friend from Minas Tirith. Back then, he had happened upon a group of ruffians who had cornered Delagost and were beating upon him for the sheer joy of doing so. He had no idea how he had mustered the courage but he had run forward, his own fists landing on the jaws of more than one of the young men, until they had all laughed and run off. To this day, he had held that Baldir had been among the ruffians but there was nothing he could do now. Not only was Baldir a Captain of the Citadel, he was also now the leader of the secret group and Saelon needed to remain silent until he had gained enough information to use against the older man.
After the scuffle, he had helped Delagost to his feet and then to Saelon's house, where he and his mother had helped clean up Del's bloody bruises before sending him home. But the event had forged a friendship between the two that lasted until this day. It was to Delagost he had turned for help in passing information to the King.
But these were not the things he needed to be thinking about now. "Delagost, it's good to see you, my friend. Let me get us a pint before we say any more," he said, turning to wave towards the barmaid, lifting three fingers to indicate he wished for three pints, one for him and Berelach and one more for Delagost, as he noticed the man's pint was nearly empty. He spoke about the weather and other non-descript topics until the three pints had been added to the table by the new serving maid.
"Good evening and thank you. You are Freawyn, are you not? I am Saelon, and these are my friends, Berelach and Delagost. It was my father who provided Azner with his pots when first he opened the inn here but until now, I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you." Handing Freawyn enough mirian to cover the pints plus some extra for herself, he smiled, thanking the young woman again, then waiting until she walked to another table before turning to his friends again. Lifting his mug, he tapped it against theirs before taking a quick sip, lifting an eyebrow and winking, then set the mug back on the table. "Lovely lady, eh?"
His expression growing serious of a sudden and leaning forward on his arms, he spoke softly. "I have much to share with you. And there is much we need to decide how to handle. When next you travel to Minas Tirith there is much that needs to be shared with 'our friend' there," the 'friend' in this case the three knew was the King himself.
Saelon shared with Delagost the news from the meeting the night before, including the finding of the Ithil-stone and the strange 'buried things' found in the ruins of Barad-dur, which Baldir had told the group about. "But Berelach has some news for you as well, which is why I invited him to join us." He turned to Berelach, waiting for him to speak while he himself sipped his ale. When Berelach had finished sharing his information, Saelon set his mug on the table.
Taking a deep breath, he said softly, "Borlas is missing and it may be that they know that Berelach found the Osgiliath-stone and have taken the old man to find out where it is hidden. Berelach is our ally in this, Delagost. He will help us in any way that he can. In fact, I think he should accompany you to Minas Tirith to meet with 'our friend' as soon as possible."
None of the three men had noticed the presence of the new barmaid hovering near their table, so deep in conversation had they been. When she suddenly appeared at their side, all looked up at her, waiting to be asked if there was anything more she could get for them. Saelon was already deciding on what he would order for dinner, having smelled the aroma of Azner's roast beef already.
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 26, 2007 06:21
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After a few hours spent in his usual elven-sleep, Idhrenion stirred with the sun. His small fire had burned down to embers, but there was no need to rekindle it… not when he would not be long in continuing on. From his packs, the elf unwrapped the piece of lembas he'd taken out last night, and broke off another piece. With that, and a swallow from his water-skin, the ellon kicked dirt over the smoldering wood and rose to call Eluvorn to his side.
With a smile, and a pat to his mount, Ren slung his packs over the horse’s shoulders and vaulted to his stallion's back.
In the early morning - for the time being that was - they were 'alone' on the Great West Road... with his dark hair (though it was short) and grey cloak, Idhrenion and his blue roan horse seemed 'shadowed' as they made their way Eastward.
As the sun made it's way higher, the air warmed from the Autumn night’s chill, and the cloak was thrown off to reveal Idhrenion's attire. A tunic of grey over a white shirt and grey leggings, and short elven boots in black he was clad in... making his hazel eyes seem more 'grey' because of it.
By midmorning, the White City could be clearly seen across the plain... and Ren found himself following a large cart being pulled by two huge horses. Shortly after high sun, Ren reached the Gates of Minas Tirith... waiting patiently for the cart to precede him... his elven eyes glancing keenly about as he then passed through, and then turned Eluvorn to head up the steep streets of Minas Tirith, and toward the Archives. He would have to find lodgings, besides a place to stable his horse... but since he’d been in Minas Tirith twice before, was not too concerned.
Long spans of time - at least in Human eyes - had passed between his first two, and now this third visit. He’d attended Aragorn’s Coronation with the elven contingent… having known Estel from the time he’d been brought to Imladris by his mother. And, when word came of Elessar’s death, Idhrenion could not help but attend his old friend’s funeral and support Eldarion upon his rising to the ruler-ship of Gondor. The Valar knew there were few-enough elves left even then, and Ren wanted the new King to know that elf-kind ‘cared’. At some point during his stay, he’d climb to the Seventh Level and give his greetings, but for now, the ellon had ‘other’ things on his mind.
Keenly, Idhrenion eyed the city… noting the changes within, and then drew to a halt before a modest-looking Inn. He smiled, glad to see it still in business after however-many decades old it was, and swinging down from Eluvorn’s back, went inside to seek a room at the Red Lantern Inn. He’d get settled first, and then head for the Archives, nodding politely at the Innkeeper (a much-removed descendent of Thian and Lissa Greensman - the original owners, he understood) and began arranging a room…
********************************
It was quite late in the day… after dark, in fact, before Saelon knocked on the cottage’s door. Berelach had managed several hours of sleep, had risen, and bathed, and then sat in the kitchen to ‘brood’. Was the Osgiliath-stone the ‘reason’ for his father’s disappearance? - Or, was it something ‘else’? Had Borlas gone ‘spying’ and had been caught? Was he a ‘captive’ someplace? - Or was he dead? - But…?
There was no ‘way’ to know… and Berelach knew his old friend would NOT have been so worried if Saelon had known the answers himself.
With a somber smile, the Admiral of Gondor’s Fleet greeted Saelon. “You’re certain this Delagost won’t ‘mind’ my being along?” he inquired - unwilling to ‘upset’ the other man - in case it (later) have ‘dire’ consequences for his missing father.
It seemed all right, though, and so Berelach fell into step with Saelon as they headed for the Wild Boar Tavern… the two of them lost in silence - as (for the Admiral) the ‘weight’ of things were heavy on his mind.
Saelon entered the Wild Boar Tavern with Berelach at his side, eyes searching immediately for the person he was here to meet, and a slight smile crossed his lips as he saw Delagost seated in a far corner of the room. Weaving his way through the tables, greeting people he knew or waving at others, he made his way to the table.
Quietly following Saelon, Berelach greeted a few people as well - being stopped by one or two for news of relatives who were sea-farers.
Azner he smiled at, and nodded when told that Freawyn (a new serving-girl, he understood) would be with them shortly. Whether she was pretty, or not, Berelach didn’t really pay attention to, as Borlas was much on the man’s mind…
When the two friends reached the table, he noted Delagost's questioning look at Saelon's companion. Sitting next to the Citadel guard, his back to the room, he waved Berelach to the seat next to him before introducing him to Delagost.
"Del, this is Berelach, Admiral of the King's Fleet. I've brought him along tonight as I think what he has to share will be of great interest to 'our friend'." He kept his voice just above a whisper as what they had to speak with his friend about was not something he wanted to share with the rest of the customers.
Settling into his chair, “It’s an honor to meet you, Delagost,” Berelach said politely. “How did you manage to meet this ‘scoundrel’? he inquired, giving Saelon a grin. “Do you live in Emyn Arnen? - Or, do you just like the quiet atmosphere as a ‘change’ from the City?”, and chatted briefly with the Citadel Guard until Saelon spoke up.
"Delagost, it's good to see you, my friend. Let me get us a pint before we say any more," he said, turning to wave towards the barmaid, lifting three fingers to indicate he wished for three pints, one for him and Berelach and one more for Delagost, as he noticed the man's pint was nearly empty. He spoke about the weather and other non-descript topics until the three pints had been added to the table by the new serving maid.
"Good evening and thank you. You are Freawyn, are you not? I am Saelon, and these are my friends, Berelach and Delagost. It was my father who provided Azner with his pots when first he opened the inn here but until now, I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you." Handing Freawyn enough mirian to cover the pints plus some extra for herself, he smiled, thanking the young woman again, then waiting until she walked to another table before turning to his friends again. Lifting his mug, he tapped it against theirs before taking a quick sip, lifting an eyebrow and winking, then set the mug back on the table. "Lovely lady, eh?"
Smirking to himself, “You haven’t ‘changed’, my friend!” Berelach commented, but as Saelon grew serious, so did he.
leaning forward on his arms, he spoke softly. "I have much to share with you. And there is much we need to decide how to handle. When next you travel to Minas Tirith there is much that needs to be shared with 'our friend' there," the 'friend' in this case the three knew was the King himself.
Saelon shared with Delagost the news from the meeting the night before, including the finding of the Ithil-stone and the strange 'buried things' found in the ruins of Barad-dur, which Baldir had told the group about. "But Berelach has some news for you as well, which is why I invited him to join us." He turned to Berelach, waiting for him to speak while he himself sipped his ale.
Shocked to hear of the Ithil-stone being found, Berelach was even *more* ‘uncomfortable’ with what he would be sharing. Watching Delagost carefully - knowing *his* ‘trust’ came through Saelon, “It’s not just the ‘one’ stone which has been ‘found’,” Berelach said softly. “The Stone of Osgiliath has been found, too,” and was hard-put not to shudder at the thought of Evil men getting hold of *both* those palantir.
In response to Delagost‘s startled (but quiet) ‘reaction‘, “I found it,” the seafarer admitted, “Some time ago… and knowing it for what it was, I hid it. Right now,” the Admiral went on, “there are only three people who know where it’s being kept. Myself, Saelon, and…” here Berelach sighed heavily, “my father. I came home early this morning to visit him, but he’s not been seen since yesterday afternoon!”
Shaking his head, “But… the ‘odd’ thing is,” Berelach added, “is that some of our sailors have gone missing - along with one of our smaller vessels. There’s been no ‘reason’ for it that we can find! We can’t find any evidence it was sunk, or that it ran aground…” and clearly the Admiral was almost as ‘upset’ over that as his father’s disappearance.
When Berelach had finished sharing his information, Saelon set his mug on the table.
Taking a deep breath, he said softly, "Borlas is missing and it may be that they know that Berelach found the Osgiliath-stone and have taken the old man to find out where it is hidden. Berelach is our ally in this, Delagost. He will help us in any way that he can. In fact, I think he should accompany you to Minas Tirith to meet with 'our friend' as soon as possible."
None of the three men had noticed the presence of the new barmaid hovering near their table, so deep in conversation had they been. When she suddenly appeared at their side, all looked up at her, waiting to be asked if there was anything more she could get for them. Saelon was already deciding on what he would order for dinner, having smelled the aroma of Azner's roast beef already.
At first only glancing at the serving-girl, Berelach was suddenly puzzled. There was a ‘familiarity’ about her somehow… something about her eyes was it? - Or, perhaps, the shape of her nose? - But, shrugging it off as ‘nothing’, and not really ‘hungry’, Berelach nonetheless ordered something to be ‘sociable‘. After the other two had given their orders as well, and they were again left alone, the Admiral returned his attention to the Citadel Guard.
“Tell me,” he begged, “What say you to all this, Delagost? - Do I worry for no ‘reason’ for my father’s absence, do you think? I‘ll do whatever I have to, to find him - go to Minas Tirith or the breadth of Gondor!” and waited anxiously for the man to speak. - And, to Saelon, “If I *do* go with him, you’ll keep an eye out on the cottage, won’t you?” Berelach asked, for more ‘reason’ than one…
[Edited on 27/11/2007 by gwendeth]
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 01, 2007 04:10
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(Hope this'll do...)
Delagost was a little stunned to see Saelon bring in someone new to their meeting. He recognized the man but couldn’t place him in memory. The things they planned to discuss tonight were very important, and very private matters…. So this fellow was obviously important to their cause in some way. As they walked over, Saelon introduced the newcomer quietly.
"Del, this is Berelach, Admiral of the King's Fleet. I've brought him along tonight as I think what he has to share will be of great interest to 'our friend'."
“Greetings,” Delagost said to Berelach with a slight grin as he returned to his seat, “I knew I’d seen you somewhere before.”
Settling into his chair, “It’s an honor to meet you, Delagost,” Berelach said politely. “How did you manage to meet this ‘scoundrel’? he inquired, giving Saelon a grin. “Do you live in Emyn Arnen? - Or, do you just like the quiet atmosphere as a ‘change’ from the City?”,
“An honor likewise,” the guard said with a small nod of his head, and grinned at Berelach’s question about Saelon. “We were mere boys when we met,” he said, “He helped me out of a sticky situation then and we’ve been friends ever since.”
Sipping at his drink, “I was born here, but I’ve often gone between Emyn Arnen and Minas Tirith- even when I was a child, with my father. But yes, it’s a pleasant change from the bustle of the city- I always spend my month off duty here.”
His own mind had glanced back to the time many years before when Saelon had basically rescued him from a group of bullying ruffians .They had begun by teasing him about his dreamy nature, but it had escalated to a beating. He’d tried to fight back, of course, but he’d been outnumbered and at that age hadn’t been blessed with any skill with which to save himself. He would never forget Saelon’s heroic charge into the midst of things, and how he had punched and kicked at the offenders until they’d gone off laughing. His rescuer had helped him to his house, where he was cleaned up before being sent home. It seemed ages ago now, but it had begun their friendship that had lasted many long years.
When Saelon spoke up he averted his attention to his friend.
"Delagost, it's good to see you, my friend. Let me get us a pint before we say any more," he said, turning to wave towards the barmaid, lifting three fingers to indicate he wished for three pints, one for him and Berelach and one more for Delagost, as he noticed the man's pint was nearly empty. He spoke about the weather and other non-descript topics until the three pints had been added to the table by the new serving maid.
"Good evening and thank you. You are Freawyn, are you not? I am Saelon, and these are my friends, Berelach and Delagost. It was my father who provided Azner with his pots when first he opened the inn here but until now, I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you." Handing Freawyn enough mirian to cover the pints plus some extra for herself, he smiled, thanking the young woman again, then waiting until she walked to another table before turning to his friends again. Lifting his mug, he tapped it against theirs before taking a quick sip, lifting an eyebrow and winking, then set the mug back on the table. "Lovely lady, eh?"
“You haven’t ‘changed’, my friend!” Berelach commented
“Indeed he hasn’t,” Delagost said with a slight grin, and looked toward the barmaid as he lifted the fresh tankard. She was pretty indeed, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed she was ‘new’… but then, he came and went so often it was difficult to keep track of such things. Suddenly, Saelon’s demeanor changed from playful to serious as he leaned forward, and Del listened intently as he began.
"I have much to share with you. And there is much we need to decide how to handle. When next you travel to Minas Tirith there is much that needs to be shared with 'our friend' there,"
Saelon shared with Delagost the news from the meeting the night before, including the finding of the Ithil-stone and the strange 'buried things' found in the ruins of Barad-dur, which Baldir had told the group about. "But Berelach has some news for you as well, which is why I invited him to join us." He turned to Berelach, waiting for him to speak while he himself sipped his ale.
Already feeling much disturbed by what he’d heard about the meeting from the night before, Delagost sat his mug down and sighed inwardly. The Ithil-stone… and in Baldir’s hands? No good would come of that. Baldir was above him in rank, really, and Del had never liked him.. He had been the ringleader of the bullies who had attacked him as a boy, after all. And he had always had that dark glint in his eye… Delagost had always tried to avoid him, though it couldn’t be helped sometimes. Shaking his thoughts away, he turned to Berelach, wondering what foreboding news he would have to share.
“It’s not just the ‘one’ stone which has been ‘found’,” Berelach said softly. “The Stone of Osgiliath has been found, too.”
“What?” Delagost asked in surprise, though he didn’t raise his voice… but, *two* palantir found? The uneasy feeling he had been having certainly hadn’t been unfounded, then! “Where is it now?” he asked softly, his expression full of concern.
In response to Delagost‘s startled (but quiet) ‘reaction‘, “I found it,” the seafarer admitted, “Some time ago… and knowing it for what it was, I hid it. Right now,” the Admiral went on, “there are only three people who know where it’s being kept. Myself, Saelon, and…” here Berelach sighed heavily, “my father. I came home early this morning to visit him, but he’s not been seen since yesterday afternoon!”
Shaking his head, “But… the ‘odd’ thing is,” Berelach added, “is that some of our sailors have gone missing - along with one of our smaller vessels. There’s been no ‘reason’ for it that we can find! We can’t find any evidence it was sunk, or that it ran aground…”
Delagost nodded solemnly, understanding Berelach’s worry. The men they were dealing with wouldn’t be above hurting an innocent to get what they wanted. That was one reason the guard had never told his own family about his secret dealings… the less they knew, the safer they remained.
Taking a deep breath, he said softly, "Borlas is missing and it may be that they know that Berelach found the Osgiliath-stone and have taken the old man to find out where it is hidden. Berelach is our ally in this, Delagost. He will help us in any way that he can. In fact, I think he should accompany you to Minas Tirith to meet with 'our friend' as soon as possible."
Delagost nodded. He would trust Saelon with his life, and if the man thought Berelach should accompany him to the city, then it was a suggestion worth following. He had hoped there would be no reason to return to Minas Tirith this soon… but, Eldarion had told him not to send any messengers but to come himself if need be. And it seemed the only option. Ponderings about how the king would accept this news were entering his mind when he became aware of the barmaid from before standing at their table. He smiled at her and then looked at Berelach, noting a look of slight recognition on his face before he placed his orders. After Saelon had ordered as well, Delagost added, “I’ll have the chicken, please,” and watched her go off again.
“Tell me,” he begged, “What say you to all this, Delagost? - Do I worry for no ‘reason’ for my father’s absence, do you think? I‘ll do whatever I have to, to find him - go to Minas Tirith or the breadth of Gondor!” , “If I *do* go with him, you’ll keep an eye out on the cottage, won’t you?”
“I hate to burden your mind any more, friend, but I think you have good reason to worry,” Delagost sighed with a grimace, “Saelon is right… ‘they’ might have taken your father, if they heard of the stone. We shall have to do what we can to find out… I’ll be returning to Minas Tirith either tomorrow or the next day, and you should go with me… we will have an audience with our friend.”
He thought of his promise to go riding with his sister. Maybe tomorrow, and perhaps he could have a meal with his family… he hated to leave them so soon, but these were heavy matters…
The food soon arrived (smelling heavenly), and the Citadel Guard shook away his troubled thoughts.
“Either way, fellows, let us enjoy our meals tonight and try not to worry,” he said, and clapped both men on their shoulders, nodding toward the other side of the room, “I believe the pretty lady who brought our drinks is going to do a bit of singing… just the thing to ease a troubled heart!”
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| RodwenofRohan |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 01, 2007 05:25
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Another dead end. When was she going to find any information? She had been in Emyn Arnen for far too long to have heard nothing… What could she do? Freawyn had reached the point of despair. She was searching for her mother’s family, her grandfather, in fact. She had to deliver her mother’s last message to him…
****
“Frea… my daughter… come to me,” Morwen sighed, her voice breathy, faint. I come to her, lay a damp cloth on her burning forehead. She is so pale, so weak. My mother…
“I am here, Mother. What is it?” I ask softly. I cannot excite her. She must live! I am shaking with fear, with dread. My mother is dying. It cannot be! It is. She has been sick for less than a week, and now is naught more than a shadow, a wraith… just like Father…
“Dear Frea… what will you do? I know now I am going to leave you,” Mother told me. I shake my head, but she stops me. “I have but one regret… I am leaving… anger… with my father… I am sorry,” she says. “Promise me, Frea. Promise me… you will tell him!”
I nod, weeping, but she has already fallen asleep. In the morning, she has passed, gone where I cannot follow. I am alone.
***
Freawyn had travelled throughout Rohan and Gondor, seeking news of her mother’s kin. For two years she had searched. She journeyed as a Bard, seeking shelter, and odd jobs, at the local taverns, where information was most readily available. She quickly had become an expert at eavesdropping, and on hiding. She also had learned how to escape the occasional enamored drunk. For the most part, she was blessed by Eru- nothing foul had yet happened to her, and her search was, for the most part, productive.
For, in fact, she knew but little- Her father was a hero of Rohan, Leofa. He had taken a wife, Morwen of Gondor, and brought her home with him to the Westfold. Her searching had eventually led her here, to Emyn Arnen, her mother’s hometown, according to her informant in Osgiliath. The Wild Boar was a likely place to find information, and it was the only tavern in town. She again found herself blessed, as the barmaid had recently married and moved on, and the innkeeper, Azner, was looking to hire. He was a kind soul, if a little greedy. He gave her a room off the kitchen, and food, in payment for her service.
But she had been at the Boar for a month now. No new information had come up. Any queries about Morwen or Leofa were met with blank stares. Another dead end.
At least her singing was appreciated. Azner usually asked her to sing every so often. Her reputation as a bard seemed to be growing, as more people showed up each performance. Tonight, however, it was just serving. No singing unless she wanted to. A break, of sorts.
-------------
Freawyn usually took little notice of the customers, as they were mostly the same each night. But tonight was different. First, Baldir had come in, as usual. He always took the table in the corner; the guard was at the Boar every week or so. But he was joined shortly thereafter by three young men, who were acting strange. At first, nothing was suspicious, but they began to appear perhaps frightened, or nervous. They left soon afterwards. She took note of it, pondering their behavior as she cleaned their table for the next patron.
The Citadel Guard, Delagost, soon entered the tavern, and seated himself at that same table. Freawyn smiled- she had seen him here before, and knew him to be a good patron of the Boar. She took his order, and delivered it promptly. Azner liked quick service by his barmaids, as did the customers.
Delagost was soon joined by two more men, one tall, dark haired, the other shorter, but still on the tallish side, with lighter hair. Freawyn stopped and looked at the shorter one. There was something vaguely familiar about him…
"Del, this is Berelach, Admiral of the King's Fleet. I've brought him along tonight as I think what he has to share will be of great interest to 'our friend'."
Berelach? That name…
***
On my mother’s lap, resting my head against her shoulder, I listen to her sing me the lullaby. She has sung this song to me ever since I was born. It comforts me, and I close my eyes. I listen to her and Father speak softly to each other.
“This song,” she says, “I used to sing it to Berelach when he was a baby. It had the same effect…”
Father’s voice murmurs to her, but all fades as I fall asleep…
***
Berelach?!? Could this stranger, who was so familiar, be the answer to her searching? She quickly went to the corner table, wanting to say something, anything, but was stopped by the tall one.
"Good evening and thank you. You are Freawyn, are you not? I am Saelon, and these are my friends, Berelach and Delagost. It was my father who provided Azner with his pots when first he opened the inn here but until now, I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you." Normally, she would have made some smart remark, something about his lax family life or his heritage, but she was too shocked. He handed her the money, more than enough, and shooed her away. Her mind reeling, she got the drinks. After serving, she busied herself cleaning tables, trying desperately to stay nearby, to be able to say something, to listen to their conversation, for any mention of her mother.
She took their orders, and served them, all the while trying to think of something to say, to get Berelach’s attention, without embarrassing herself. She was so close! This had to be it! That song… that name… that song! She would sing the song! She rushed to tell Azner that she would give one performance tonight. One song, to entertain the few guests. She was in a singing mood, after all.
Getting her lute out of her room, she quickly tuned it and sat by the fire, where all could hear her. Her lute seemed to take a life of its own, and the notes floated about the room, causing a hush, the customers quieting. Her soft alto-tenor voice soon joined the lute.
Gondor! Gondor, beween the Mountains and the Sea!
West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree
Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.
O proud walls! White towers! O wingéd crown and throne of gold!
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea
The song Morwen had sung to her drifted around the room, the lullaby softly calling. As she sang the last notes, Freawyn looked at Berelach. Did he recognize it?
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 02, 2007 01:36
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Saelon had introduced his friends to the new barmaid, Freawyn, but so wrapped up in his thoughts was he that he failed to notice the expression that passed across her lovely face. He had always been flirtatious with women and yet, in truth, hardly noticed them. He took Berelach’s and Delagost’s teasing that he had not changed with good humor but then became serious.
The three men then shared their information; Saelon told Delagost about the discovery of the Ithil stone and Berelach also disclosed his own possession of the Osgilliath stone, and his concerns for his father.
“I found it,” the seafarer admitted, “Some time ago… and knowing it for what it was, I hid it. Right now,” the Admiral went on, “there are only three people who know where it’s being kept. Myself, Saelon, and…” here Berelach sighed heavily, “my father. I came home early this morning to visit him, but he’s not been seen since yesterday afternoon!”
Saelon explained quietly how he had invited Borlas to join him last night and yet, “When I stopped to accompany him, there was no one home. Nor was there anyone home when I stopped again on my way home later.” But when Berelach mentioned the strange incident of a complete ship and all its sailors disappearing without a trace, he offered his own thoughts. “Is it possible, Berelach, that they were ‘used’ by those who were searching for the,” here he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Osgilliath stone. Or could they be part of the group searching for it themselves?” He also added his thoughts about Borlas being perhaps taken simply because ‘they’ thought he might know something about it. He glanced at Berelach, knowing how disturbed his friend was by his father’s disappearance but there was nothing they could do about it at the moment other than follow up on their theories as to who might be behind it.
When Freawyn had come to take their orders for their meal, they returned to their conversation, agreeing that Berelach would accompany Delagost to Minas Tirith to share their news with ‘their friend’.
“Tell me,” he begged, “What say you to all this, Delagost? - Do I worry for no ‘reason’ for my father’s absence, do you think? I‘ll do whatever I have to, to find him - go to Minas Tirith or the breadth of Gondor!” and waited anxiously for the man to speak. - And, to Saelon, “If I *do* go with him, you’ll keep an eye out on the cottage, won’t you?” Berelach asked, for more ‘reason’ than one…
“Of course, Berelach....and you know I will be searching with whatever resources I have here,” Saelon agreed. He turned to listen to Delagost.
“I hate to burden your mind any more, friend, but I think you have good reason to worry,” Delagost sighed with a grimace, “Saelon is right… ‘they’ might have taken your father, if they heard of the stone. We shall have to do what we can to find out… I’ll be returning to Minas Tirith either tomorrow or the next day, and you should go with me… we will have an audience with our friend.”
“Delagost, I’m sorry that you must return to Minas Tirith so soon as you have only just returned home. But it should only be a day or two and then you will be able to enjoy the rest of your leave, my friend. I know you family misses you when you are gone, especially your young sister,” Saelon smiled warmly as he thought of the devotion Del’s sister had for him. “But enough for now. What say we relax now.”
“Either way, fellows, let us enjoy our meals tonight and try not to worry,” he said, and clapped both men on their shoulders, nodding toward the other side of the room, “I believe the pretty lady who brought our drinks is going to do a bit of singing… just the thing to ease a troubled heart!”
Freawyn was sitting by the open fireplace on a small stool, plucking the strings of her lute. When she began to sing, she could barely be heard due to a group of rowdy customers at the bar. Saelon rose to his feet and walking to the men, whispered something to them. Whatever he shared with them had the desired affect as they all immediately quieted and turned to listen to the young Rohannion maiden. In the subsequent silence, Saelon, smiling smugly, returned to the table in time to see a strange questioning....and surprised....expression on Berelach’s face, who was staring at the bard, his lips moving as though speaking the words she was singing.
He watched Berelach rather than the woman playing the lute, a puzzled look on his face, wondering what was in his friend’s mind. He picked at his roasted beef and listened to the song, one he was not familiar with. It had the cadence of, and sounded like a lullaby, not a customary song for a tavern, yet it was strangely haunting and arresting. Shaking his head when the softly sung tune ended, he clapped his hands as he glanced at Delagost, nodding his head in Berelach’s direction. Berelach was still sitting, staring into space, until Saelon nudged him.
“Are you still with us, Berelach? You seem to have traveled many miles away.” Speaking to Delagost, he added, “I think we should return to our homes. You two have a long day tomorrow and I must see to some timber north of here...if my father will spare me, that is,” he said, grinning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Baldir spent long hours with the hooded figure in the cave that night. It was not much before the sun was lightening the eastern sky when he arrived home, shaken by what had transpired. Baldir was a cold, hard man and very little could frighten him but the pure evil that emanated from the man he had spent so many hours with disturbed him deeply. He wanted power, he wanted to create a world where he had that power, but to achieve that would require almost more than he was prepared to indulge in. But he was in too deep now to change his path, primarily because the man he had met with this night would make him suffer too greatly for his betrayal.
When he quietly crept through the back door of his Aunt’s house, he was desperately in need of sleep. So his surprise was great when Cenewith spoke to him from the shadows of the room.
“Baldir?” her soft voice questioned him. “Where have you been until this late hour? Why won’t you tell me where it is you go? I do so worry about you.”
“Cenewith,” he answered her question with one of his own, hoping to divert her. “What are you doing up at this hour, child? You should be sleeping soundly and dreaming the dreams of all young women,” he chided her. He had a momentary shiver of fear as he wondered what the hooded man from the cave would do to her should he, Baldir, turn from the path he had chosen. “But come, make us some tea if you will. I need to sleep soon, but I am chilled...and I would enjoy a quiet moment with my little sister.” He hung his cloak on a hook and walked across the floor, putting his arm around Cenewith’s shoulder and leading her towards the eating room. Encouraging the embers of last night’s banked coals to flame, he filled the kettle with water from the pitcher and set it over the iron plate, while Cenewith set the table (lit only by a single candle) with two mugs and the makings of tea. When the tea was prepared, the siblings sat companionably at the table, sipping the honey sweetened drink.
“Cen,” he began, “When I am gone, you must remain close to the house, close to our Aunt. Don’t go wandering off into the forest, mushroom hunting or anything like that. Promise me, sister.”
Cenewith looked at her brother questioningly. She knew for a fact that he had at least two young men of the village spying on her comings and goings as it was. Teasing her brother, she commented, “What has happened to your spies? The ones that poke up from behind bushes whenever I go to the market, or to a neighbor’s house?” She chuckled at the surprise on his face. “Oh, Baldir, you really need to make a better choice than two youngsters who have barely reached maturity. They are so inept.” Reaching her hand across the table, she laid it on top of Baldir’s. “My dear brother, why do you worry so about me? We live in a small village where our family has lived for generations. I am perfectly safe. Does it have something to do with your outings of late?”
Baldir could not tell his sister of his activities, all he could do was protect her when he was not here to do so himself. Turning his hand to squeeze Cenewith’s, he smiled a rare smile, reserved only for his sister, and teasingly said, “But you are so beautiful, little sister. I worry that you will be assaulted by every young man in Emyn Arnen were they not aware that I have someone protecting you while I am away.”
“Oh, you are such a silly fool, Baldir,” she said, pulling her hand from his and slapping it lightly instead. “Go to bed. I want you well-rested for our dinner at the Boar tonight. I’ll clean up here.”
Baldir rose from the table and walked around it to Cenewith as she too rose to her feet. Pulling her close to his heart, he held her for a long moment before kissing her forehead and releasing her. As he reached the doorway, he turned to watch his slender sister as she moved from the table to the bench with their cups, his heart warming at the sight of her. She was the only good thing in his life, he thought, and wondered how he would deal with the possibility of her meeting someone she wished to wed. She’d leave his life then and what would he have left that was good and decent? He’d have power, he thought, and that would have to do. Turning on his heel, he hurried to his room, falling fully-clothed on his bed and staring at the ceiling for a long time before his eyes closed in sleep.
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 07, 2007 05:09
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It didn’t take long for Idhrenion to arrange for a room and stabling for his stallion. Quite sure his mount would be well cared-for, he silently climbed the stairs to his room and unlocked the door. It was ‘modest’, but quiet, and Ren didn’t need ‘much’, anyway. After setting his packs on the floor (barring the one carrying the books and papers he dared not let out of his sight - which was then slung over one shoulder), the elf then went down to order a light meal before heading to the library.
Once there, he politely refused the ‘aid’ of the scholars employed there… for there was no way to know ‘where’ Idhrenion would find what he wanted. Or… if what he ‘wanted’ was even to be found at all… for neither was the dark-haired ellon even sure *what* he was searching for.
Thinking back to where (within Elrond’s Great Library) he’d discovered what he now carried with him, Ren was certain (if it was ‘here’) it would not be in the most ‘obvious’ place. And, so, brushing his short, wavy locks back from his eyes, quite slowly the elf made a circuit of the Archives… going up one long line of shelves and down another… through every floor, and making note of every nook and cranny that held even a single tome.
And… as he’d ‘expected’, nothing (in particular) ‘caught’ Idhrenion’s attention, but that (in itself) did not bother him. It didn’t mean (at all!) that there was ‘nothing’ to be found, and so - with the patience of his Race, he began the circuit again.
With the same ‘deliberation’ as the first time, the ellon made his way through the stacks… pausing occasionally to peer intently at one volume or another, and then absentmindedly shaking his head. - Yes… it *might* be the ‘reasonable’ thing to do to begin with the Quenya texts he’d spotted, but… as he shifted his satchel from one shoulder to the other, these had not been found where (had *he* had the ‘placing’ of them) one might have ‘thought’.
A third time Idhrenion traced his path… but on the fourth, he reversed it - though ‘why’ he decided to, the ellon could not then, nor later ‘explain’. - But, halfway down the second corridor of the uppermost floor, the elf abruptly paused his slow footsteps. On the highest shelf he spotted what couldn’t have been ‘noticed’ from the other direction. A book, yes… the leather binding dried and cracking from age (as were many other volumes), but the text had been set in it’s place upside down.
*That* (in itself) might not have been anything more than ‘carelessness’ on the part of whoever had put it there… but the title was what stole Idhrenion’s breath from his body… that, and the faded blue color of the stiffened hide.
Reaching up, the ellon carefully pulled it down, and - yes - he’d not misread the heading: ’Nae, I Chen Edra‘ it said in his native language, and to himself, Ren repeated it. “Alas, The Eye Opens!” he whispered, and thought of the hidebound sheaf of papers in his sack. - And, to be absolutely *sure*, Ren opened the book to gaze at the flyleaf. The writing (a repeat of the title) he recognized, and ‘chill’ went through the elf, for as the other manuscript, thereon also was drawn the depiction of an eye.
But, instead of being fully closed, this one was half-open.
Ai, Eru! went through the ellon’s mind, and then Idhrenion glanced carefully around him. No… no one else was here, though he knew the hour was late. - But, Ren dared not let anyone ‘know’ he’d found what was now clutched in his long fingers, and so slipped it inside his pack and refastened the buckle. To allay any suspicion (since he’d been wandering the stacks for so long), the elf selected several other volumes (useful in their own way, if truth be told) and carried them down to the main area of the Archives.
“Finally found what you were looking for?” the librarian inquired, a bit curious at having an elf searching through his shelves.
Answering with a polite nod, “Yes, thank you,” Idhrenion replied, and waited for the man to mark the two tomes down in his logbook. Nothing further was said then, as the ellon then left the building.
Upon coming outside, though, Ren was still ‘chilled’ inside as he turned to head back to the Red Lantern Inn. It was dark out, by then, but he cared not at all. Idhrenion was used to long hours of study, and he was intending to stay up all night to read Mithrandir’s words…
~@~@~@~@~@~
By the time dawn began lightening the sky, Ren had read through the pages twice… and solemnly, he rubbed his eyes with his hands.
Tired? - No… not yet, but the ellon knew he needed a break. And, so, stretching out on his bed, the ellon’s eyes drooped to half-shut, and spent several hours in his usual light slumber. Upon rousing, and after splashing some water on his face, he went down to the common-room for a bite of something and then headed up the stairs once again. On his third time through the book, however, he compared it page-by-page and line-by-line with the one he’d found in Imladris - making notes for himself as he went. ‘I Chen ‘Wathranen’ (The Veiled Eye) was what Hîr Elrond had entitled it, and when he’d finished doing so, just why HE had been the one to ‘discover’ these last warnings of the Imladrian lord and the white-bearded Maia, Idhrenion didn’t presume to guess.
But, what he’d learned had *not* ‘eased’ the elf one bit, and with a sigh, he carefully read through what he’d written. And, if it was true, not one, but TWO of the ancient Seeing Stones had been found… and a danger not seen in Middle Earth since Sauron’s demise was ‘lurking’, and growing stronger. It wasn’t entirely ‘clear’ as to who, or what, or ‘where’ the palantiri were now located… but there’d been hints that Emyn Arnen had something to do with them.
The sun was on it’s downward spiral by then, and Idhrenion wished he could take time to ‘digest’ what he’d discerned. - Digest it, and go through it again (several more times). There was, though, no time to be ‘lost’ - if there was any chance of thwarting this looming peril. The King needed to be informed, and ‘twere best done sooner than later…
Peering outside his door, Ren nodded at a passing maid and requested a bath to be drawn. - And so, bathed and changed out of his travel-dusty outfit into something clean (dark-green leather pants and a matching tunic over a grey shirt). Gathering up the two volumes and his notes, the elf left the Red Lantern Inn, and with the late-afternoon sun on his shoulders, made his way to the highest level of Minas Tirith. Whether the guards at the gate had ever heard of him (and it had been long-enough since his last visit to make that questionable), the tips of Ren’s ears peeking out from beneath his short, dark, wavy hair was ‘enough’ to show he was no ‘usual’ visitor.
As he followed one of them across the grounds, Idhrenion’s hazel eyes rested for a long moment on the White Tree. It was the third time he’d seen it… but after reading what he had, the ellon couldn’t help wondering if it just might be the *last* time he ever did…
**********************************
“I hate to burden your mind any more, friend, but I think you have good reason to worry,” Delagost sighed with a grimace, “Saelon is right… ‘they’ might have taken your father, if they heard of the stone. We shall have to do what we can to find out… I’ll be returning to Minas Tirith either tomorrow or the next day, and you should go with me… we will have an audience with our friend.”
Solemnly, Berelach nodded, and sighed heavily. He could just *hope* that what was hidden in his father’s attic would remain so.
“Delagost, I’m sorry that you must return to Minas Tirith so soon as you have only just returned home. But it should only be a day or two and then you will be able to enjoy the rest of your leave, my friend. I know you family misses you when you are gone, especially your young sister,” Saelon smiled warmly as he thought of the devotion Del’s sister had for him. “But enough for now. What say we relax now.”
“Either way, fellows, let us enjoy our meals tonight and try not to worry,” he said, and clapped both men on their shoulders, nodding toward the other side of the room, “I believe the pretty lady who brought our drinks is going to do a bit of singing… just the thing to ease a troubled heart!”
At the mention of Delagost’s sister, Berelach sighed again. Years it had been since he’d seen his own sister, and - despite the breach between Morwen and their father, the Admiral of Gondor’s Fleet couldn’t help but wonder if his much-older sibling would ‘care’ about Borlas’ disappearance. - But, even if Berelach had wanted to try and search for her, there was too much of ‘import’ going on to take a jaunt across Rohan (where he’d suspected his sister had gone to live with her husband) to do so.
Still though, Berelach occasionally thought about Morwen, and hoped she was happy in her life. - And, of a clear, starlit night, sometimes he wondered if his sister ever thought about him… but then, the serving-girl began plucking out a melody on her lute…
When she began to sing, she could barely be heard due to a group of rowdy customers at the bar. Saelon rose to his feet and walking to the men, whispered something to them. Whatever he shared with them had the desired affect as they all immediately quieted and turned to listen to the young Rohannian maiden.
At first, Berelach could barely hear the young woman, but as the room quieted, the Admiral’s brow furrowed.
He *knew* that tune - didn’t he? - And - and, her voice! He knew *that* too!, and his blue eyes were ‘intent’ on the singer. - And, without being ‘aware’ of doing so, the sailor began whispering the words to himself as she sang.
…O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea
As the final notes of her song ‘floated’ into silence, Berelach was stunned.
NO one knew that lullaby! - No one but himself, and his mother!
Well… his sister and father, of course, for Morwen had sung it to him as often as mama had. - But - but - but how did *this* person know it? he wondered, and was startled when the young Rohannian looked straight at himself! He *had* to talk to her!, Berelach thought, but was somehow unable to move. - Not, that was, until Saelon nudged his shoulder.
“Are you still with us, Berelach? You seem to have traveled many miles away.” Speaking to Delagost, he added, “I think we should return to our homes. You two have a long day tomorrow and I must see to some timber north of here...if my father will spare me, that is,” he said, grinning.
“Hmm?” Berelach ‘shook’ himself, but it was ‘years’ and not ‘miles’ away where he’d been. Only briefly glancing at his friend and new acquaintance, “Go ahead if you want,” the sailor told them, and began making his way over to where the young woman was - not caring (for the moment) if the other two were following him.
Upon reaching her, Berelach was again ‘struck’ but a strange ‘familiarity’ about the Rohannian maiden. With a polite bow, and giving her his name, “Please,” the man said, “May I ask your name and where you learned that song? - It’s… it’s a ‘family’ lullaby, you see,” he went on. “My mother and sister used to sing it to me, and I’ve not heard it since I was a child. You’re from Rohan, aren’t you? - Did - did a woman named ‘Morwen’ teach it to you? You sound like her, you know. She’s my sister, and I’ve not seen her for years. Did you know her? - I’d love to talk to you about her - if you do. My house isn’t far away if you don’t want to stay here…” and (holding his breath) Berelach waited for what the young woman would say…
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| RodwenofRohan |
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 13, 2007 05:48
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(I hope this is alright. I'm having a family crisis of sorts so I may not be able to make my next turn.)
Delagost sat back with his mug as he watched the young woman plucking at her lute strings. Her voice was difficult to hear as she began to sing, and the guard cast a sharp glance to the rowdy men at the bar. As if sharing his thoughts Saelon rose and walked over to them, telling them something that turned their attention to the maiden and silence. The smug smile on his face as he came back to the table made Del chuckle, but when he glanced to Berelach to comment on it the other man was staring at the barmaid. He looked surprised and confused, his lips moving as he mouthed the words that Freawyn sang. It was a tune that he’d never heard before for himself, though it sounded something like a lullaby- not the usual song for a tavern. However, there was a ethereal quality about it that was peaceful and sad at the same time. Freawyn had a lovely voice, and he ate in silence as he, too, listened to the strange song.
When it ended and he clapped he shared a glance with Saelon, and at his nod shrugged slightly, not knowing why the song would have Beralach so distracted. Distracted, that is, until his friend gave him a nudge.
“Are you still with us, Berelach? You seem to have traveled many miles away.” Speaking to Delagost, he added, “I think we should return to our homes. You two have a long day tomorrow and I must see to some timber north of here...if my father will spare me, that is,” he said, grinning.
“Hmm?” Berelach ‘shook’ himself, but it was ‘years’ and not ‘miles’ away where he’d been. Only briefly glancing at his friend and new acquaintance, “Go ahead if you want,” the sailor told them, and began making his way over to where the young woman was.
Delagost watched Berelach approach the barmaid. He was still distracted by her song, but the young man didn’t follow him over- what he wanted to say to her was his business, after all. “I wonder,” he said briefly, but then turned his attention to what Saelon had said before. Grinning, “Good luck with that,” he said in regards to his friend’s father, “But you’re right… I’m weary too. I traveled from the city just today, and like you say I’ll be leaving again in the morning. My horse will think I‘m out to run her ragged.”
Frowning slightly, he thought again of the reason he was hurrying back in the morning. “None of this bodes well,” he sighed, but shook the thought away. Tonight was not the time for dwelling on such things. He glanced up to see Berelach heading back in their direction after a few minutes, looking even more surprised than before.
“What happened?” Delagost asked, and at the man’s reply he glanced after the barmaid, who had gone - it seemed- to retrieve her things. “Your niece, eh? What a strange chance.”
Before long she had returned, and she looked around the inn and then smiled and nodded at the men as they prepared to depart.
"Shall we go, then?"
“Certainly,” Delagost said with a friendly smile, and clapped Saelon on the back as he drained the last of his drink and put down money on the table. Together the group headed for the door, and they had not long passed out of the Wild Boar when Freawyn motioned them to wait and ran to approach another young woman who was walking nearby. She looked familiar but Del couldn’t place her in his memory.
“Who is that?” he asked the others, and then smiled slightly when Freawyn dragged the girl over toward them excitedly.
"See? This is Berelach. He is my uncle. These are his friends, Delagost and Saelon." Turning to the men, she introduced her friend, "This is Cenewith, a friend of mine. You might know her brother- Baldir. He is a patron of the Boar, as well."
Delagost nodded and smiled in greeting and said a soft, “Hello, Cenewith,”, though he felt his heart thump uncomfortably at hearing that this was the sister of Baldir. That must be why she looked familiar. Surely this lovely young woman could have nothing to do with the evil that Baldir was involved in… the idea of it disturbed Del deeply, but that evil had the ability to ensnare the most unlikely people.
Cenewith asked, rather anxiously, if her brother was at the Wild Boar
"No, he isn't, but he was here earlier. He was with some soldiers- friends maybe? They were here not three hours ago."
Delagost sighed inwardly with relief that he hadn’t come into the Boar at the same time as Baldir. The last thing he wanted or needed was to meet up with him outside of the Citadel- but, if he had been here with soldiers then he may have been having a secret meeting of his own. The young man found himself wondering if Freawyn had heard anything of interest… but that thought flew away when he saw Cenewith lower her head, and he thought he caught the glint of tears in her eyes before she turned them downward. With a soft and sad thank-you she turned away and continued in the direction she had been going, and Delagost frowned as he watched her go, wondering what it was that made her so sad. Perhaps she knew what her brother was up to…
The group soon continued on, and at the end of the path near the base of the hill on which Berelach’s home sat Delagost and Saelon bade their friend and his newfound niece goodnight, Del adding that he would meet Berelach in this very place in the morning. Then, leaving the two of them to catch up on whatever had happened in their family, the two remaining men continued on for a little ways. After a few silent minutes, “That Cenewith,” the guard began, “Perhaps if I get to know her, befriend her, after I return from Minas Tirith, I can learn more about Baldir’s activities. It disturbs me to think that she may be involved, but its possible- and even if she isn’t, she may know something. What do you think?”
Eventually the two of them halted to part ways. Grasping his friend’s shoulder, “I’ll see you on the day after tomorrow, if all goes well- take care.”
Smiling, “Goodnight,” he bade Saelon, and headed toward his own home. The hour had grown rather late and it was no surprise that most of the windows were dark, save for the living room. Quietly he opened the front door and entered. There was a fire burning low in the hearth and his sister lay on the rug beside it, the dog curled up beside her and a book next to her head. With a tender smile Delagost realized it was the book that he had read to her when she was much younger. She must have waited up for him, but had been too sleepy to keep waiting. Sighing sadly that he would be leaving her again in the morning, he knelt and gathered her into his arms, carrying her sleeping form to her bedroom, the dog following with its tail wagging.
Gently he lay Mirien down, pulling the quilt over her. She stirred and mumbled something but didn’t wake, and the dog jumped up on the bed beside her again, letting out a small whine as he lay his black head next to hers on the pillow. With another fond smile Delagost bent and kissed his sister’s brow and gave the dog a pat, then turned and quietly left the room. As he went to his own room- which his family kept ready for his return, making him regret leaving them all the more- he wondered if Baldir loved Cenewith as much as he loved his own sister. Did he care for her, or did he care only for the darkness which he had involved himself with? Would he protect her from that same darkness? Deciding to try not thinking about it, he undressed and fell into bed, falling asleep swiftly despite his many thoughts.
In the morning he woke before dawn out of habit. With a groan he rose and redressed, and walked out to the kitchen. His mother was the only one awake, busy heating the stove and preparing to cook breakfast. She looked at him in surprise and then noticed he was dressed for travel, and sighed sadly.
“Where are you off to, Del?” she asked, “You promised that you would be here for breakfast.”
“I’m sorry, mother,” he said, pulling her into a hug, “Duty calls- but I’ll be back tomorrow. Apologize to Mirien for me, please… tell her we will go riding when I return.”
“Can’t you stay long enough to eat?”
“I have to meet someone… don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”
Kissing her cheek and giving her an encouraging smile, he grabbed his coat and left the house. If only they could understand that he was doing this to protect them, to protect them and all of Gondor’s people. He was only one man but he had to do what he could, and now he had to take some very disturbing news to the king.
After saddling his horse he led the gelding down the path until he had come to the meeting spot. Berelach was there waiting. With a nod and a ‘good morning’ they were on their way, and after they had passed out of town they mounted up and continued on at a much quicker pace.
“Did you have a good meeting with your niece?” Delagost asked, and a little hesitantly added, “Freawyn was at the Boar when Baldir was there with ‘friends’- did she say anything about hearing them speaking?”
They spoke about these and other matters during the ride, not halting for rest along the way. It was late in the afternoon when they finally reached the White City, and guided their horses through the mighty gates. They made their way up through the different levels of the city, Delagost nodded greetings to those he knew along the way.
When they had come to the courtyard they dismounted, and passed the White Tree as they headed inside. The men at the door knew Delagost and so didn’t ask him any questions- once within, he told a servant that he needed to speak with the king, and then waited with Berelach in silence. He was thinking of where to begin when the servant returned and motioned for them to follow. They were taken to the same room in which he had spoken to Eldarion on the day before- and there stood the king, looking out of his window, his face solemn.
“My lord,” the servant said to get his attention, and the king turned and nodded to dismiss him. When Delagost went to bow Eldarion shook his head, “There is no need for that,” he said, “I had not expected you to return so soon, Delagost.. Greetings, Commander Berelach- please sit, my friends, and tell me what brings you here.”
“My lord, Berelach is a friend to our cause,” Delagost began, “And he has some disturbing things of his own to share- I will let him begin…”
For a long while they spoke, telling the king of the two seeing stones and the disappearance of Berelach’s father and the ships, as well as everything Saelon had shared on the previous night at the Wild Boar. Eldarion took it all in with a troubled expression on his face. Sighing when the two men had concluded, “This is disturbing news indeed,” he said solemnly, “But we cannot yet take any outright action. You must both keep your eyes and ears open- we have to learn all that we can.”
“I may have found a way to learn more about Baldir’s actions,” Delagost said, thinking of his plans to speak to Cenewith.
“I am sorry about your father,” the king went on to Berelach, “I pray that he is found soon, unharmed. If I hear any word of him at all I will make sure you are the first to know.”
There was a sudden knock on the door, and with a slight frown the king called ‘enter’. When it was pushed open the servant stood there, and behind him stood an elf, a disturbed expression on his face. Delagost raised an eyebrow, wondering what brought an elf here… he had never known any of that race personally, so he stood up as the king greeted the newcomer…
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 15, 2007 02:45
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Bergin, Kamerin and Marein had talked and talked over tankards of ale at the Wild Boar about how the were going to manage to leave for another extended period of time. Their first trip into the dead grounds of Mordor they had covered as a hunting trip but all three had obligations in Emyn Arnen and had duties to perform. None of them could just disappear from home and their work for the time it would take without raising alarms.
“My father would never allow it. We have too much business and too many deliveries to make,” Marein said, mournfully. Marein’s father was the butcher and his son not only was learning the trade but also made all the deliveries to their customers.
Bergin, who lived alone with only his aging father on a farm a few miles outside the village, knew that he too would be hard-pressed to leave the old man to tend the sheep and cows on his own. “Nor could I leave father alone again with the animals. Even with our dog, Rumble, to help herd them, it’s too much for him.”
Kamerin, who was apprenticed to a cooper, shook his head. “I am about to take my trials for journeyman and I don’t know what will happen if I’m not here to do so. Cranlan will not allow me to leave now.” Cranlan was the master journeyman to whom he had been apprenticed at 14 years.
“But Baldir wants us to leave right away,” Marein said. “When is Cranlan testing you?”
“Not for another week,” Kamerin replied. “Do you suppose we could tell Baldir it will take that long to ready ourselves?” He didn’t want to be the one to face Baldir, however. The man truly frightened him.
Bergin smiled cheerfully. “We have one thing in our favor. Baldir is leaving on the morrow for Minas Tirith for the next month or more. He’d never have to know exactly when we left, would he?” He received hopeful nods from his friends and the three began planning how and when they would leave for the dark place again.
During the following week, they began to stash what they would need for the trek in Bergin’s barn. Dried meat from Marein’s father’s stores, faggots of wood gathered in the forest for fires, sturdy britches and tunics, and bedding to roll all their supplies in. Bergin had their horses shod at the local farrier’s and cleaned his saddle, reins and bits so that by the end of the week, when Kamerin completed his journeyman tests, they would be ready to leave at once....as soon as they had determined how to tell their respective parents, of course.
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Cenewith had waited for Baldir to return until it was quite late in the evening. She began searching the village for him, ending up at the Wild Boar as her last hope to find him. She was just approaching the tavern when the front door opened and four people strolled out into the cool night air. One was a woman and it took a moment for her to recognize Frea in the dark shadows of the evening. However, as she was facing the door, the light shone directly on her face and it was Frea who recognized her first, leaving the group of men and running to meet her.
"Cenewith! Why are you about so late? Oh, wait, first come and see! I have found my family!" She dragged the girl over to the Berelach, Delagost, and Saelon. "See? This is Berelach. He is my uncle. These are his friends, Delagost and Saelon." Turning to the men, she introduced her friend, "This is Cenewith, a friend of mine. You might know her brother- Baldir. He is a patron of the Boar, as well."
Cenewith shyly smiled at the three tall men and held her hand out to Berelach first, acknowledging his status as Frea’s uncle, a man the Rohannian had asked her about as they had grown to know each other during their meetings at the market in the past few weeks. “Well met, Berelach. Your niece has been searching for you for lo! so many months now. I am so happy you two have finally met.”
She nodded to both Delagost and Saelon in greeting then turned to Frea again. “It is Baldir I have come to find. Is he by any chance within? Or has he been here this evening?” When her friend said he had been in earlier but had been long gone, she sighed deeply, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She had covered every possible place he might be in the village and this was the last one where she could believe he might be. Lowering her head until she gained control over her emotions, she lifted it briefly to say, “Thank you, Frea. Have a lovely night. Gentlemen, goodnight to you as well.” Pivoting on her heel, she hurried off into the night.
She had sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen until Baldir had finally returned. He looked so exhausted, she thought. They had companionably made tea which they shared before he finally went off to bed. When she had finished clearing the kitchen, she sat in the rocking chair again, rocking gently as she wondered about her brother’s business that kept him out so late so often, and brought him home looking as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Her aunt found her sound asleep in the chair when she entered the kitchen that morning.
“Cenewith, child. Why are you not in bed? Go....sleep as late as you wish. There is nothing of any urgency to be done this morning.” Cenewith did as her aunt suggested and when she woke again, the sun was streaming through her window. As she pulled herself from under her blanket and went to the window, she realized it was already mid-day. Baldir was busy chopping wood for the fireplaces and stove and she called and waved to him.
“Good morning, Baldir. I hope you are looking forward to dinner as much as I am.” When he smiled up at her, nodding, she smiled happily. This evening, the night before he was to leave to return to his duty at the Citadel, was the evening they would share their meal at the Boar.
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Baldir had gone but the man in the cave remained behind as the fire died, staring into the darkness. The Ithil stone and that of Osgiliath? he pondered. Ahh, to have them both. What could not be accomplished with both of them to move my plans forward. And the Uruk-hai survived as well. His lips curled in an evil smile as he plotted his next moves. Slowly, stiffly, he rose to his feet and like a shadow, he emerged from the cave and disappeared into the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saelon listened to the young woman singing the odd lullaby sounding song but more he watched Berelach’s mouth following the words. He had laughingly asked Berelach where his thoughts were but he was stunned by his friend’s response. Berelach had risen from the table and with a distracted and dismissive comment had wandered as if drawn to the young singer and barmaid.
Saelon nudged Delagost and the two of them followed behind Berelach and stood by as they listened to the young Admiral ask a string of questions of the young maiden. Listening to Frea’s response caused Saelon to laugh in delight. Glancing at Delagost, he whispered, “Now, is that not amazing? Berelach has wondered about his older sister for years and now suddenly, his sister’s child appears. Is not life amazing?”
When Frea agreed to go with Berelach to Borlas’s house and disappeared to the back of the inn, Saelon’s turned to the Admiral with concern evident on his face. “Berel, you are leaving tomorrow for Minas Tirith. Do you mean to leave her there....alone? Is that wise...knowing what we know?” Before Berelach could respond, however, Frea was back, and there was the hustle and bustle of leaving to attend to. The questions were never answered, though they remained in the back of Saelon’s mind.
When they had stepped out into the street, he noticed Frea run to another young woman, speaking briefly and then bringing her along to meet the three of them. When she stood before them, having been introduced by Frea as Cenewith, a friend and sister to Baldir, Saelon gazed at her with cuiosity. Baldir’s sister? Now this was very interesting. He had not even known Baldir ‘had’ a sister.
But when she had asked about her brother and been advised that he was not here, he was quite certain he had noted glistening tears in her eyes, though when she glanced back at them, bidding them softly good night, they were not in evidence. He spoke his own “Good night” to her and then the four of them began to stroll back towards Borlas’s house. Berelach and Frea took the lead and they both chattered excitedly. Saelon listened intently, not even trying to hide his interest. Inwardly he was chuckling to himself. He’d hardly be able to ‘flirt’ with his best friend’s niece with any ease. Yet, at the same time, in the back of his mind was a hidden sadness. How Borlas would like meeting his grandaughter. Where was the old man?
At the very gate where he had intended to meet Borlas, both he and Delagost said their goodnights to Berelach and Frea, watching as the pair climbed the hill towards the house for a moment before following the path onward towards their own homes.
After a few silent minutes, “That Cenewith,” the guard began, “Perhaps if I get to know her, befriend her, after I return from Minas Tirith, I can learn more about Baldir’s activities. It disturbs me to think that she may be involved, but its possible- and even if she isn’t, she may know something. What do you think?”
Saelon’s eyes glinted with amusement as he responded to Delagost’s query. “Yes, I too did notice how pretty she was, Del,” he said, laughing at the offended expression on his friend’s face. Punching Del’s arm lightly, he teased “Alright, you would never have such a thought, would you?” Continuing, his voice serious, he said, “Yes. It might be a good idea for one of us to verify whether she is aware of Baldir’s activities. Personally, I am not comfortable with Berelach leaving Freawyn here alone. I think I will be keeping an eye on her thus I will not have the time to watch them both. Though I must admit,” he added roguishly, “either one of them is worth the watching.”
The path forked and they both went their separate ways, Saelon wishing, “Safe trip and may your dealings with our friend go well. I will see you when you return. Send a note to me when you and Berelach return and we can meet at the Wild Boar or perhaps at Borlas’s house.” When he arrived home, the sickle moon had already set and the house was dark. He dreaded the coming of the morning as his father would surely be in to wake him long before the sun lightened the eastern sky once again. “I need to get more sleep,” the dark haired young man chided himself for the late hours he had been keeping.
As he had anticipated, his father shook him from his dreams when the sky was still dark. But to his surprise, there was someone here to see him. Rising from the warm cocoon of his blankets into the chilly air, he yanked his trousers on and bare chested, he went directly to the kitchen where he found two men drinking tea hurriedly poured by his mother for them.
“Berelach! Delagost! You’re off to Minas Tirith, are you, but this is a bit out of your way, is it not?” It seemed, however, that Berelach had heard his concerns the night before and had come with a request before they rode off to the White City. Before the two left, he had agreed to keep an eye on Freawyn, ignoring the twinkle in Delagost’s eyes.
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 26, 2007 05:09
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Berelach knew his questions had been asked ‘rapidly’… but it had been so long since Morwen had left! Though he’d been young at the time, he’d rued the breach between his only sibling and their father, and had had to keep his wishings to find Morwen locked deep in the recesses of his heart. - What Berelach had *not* ‘expected’ was to see the young woman begin to cry, though, and couldn’t imagine…
Tears began to flow unbidden from her eyes. "My name is Freawyn, Daughter of Leofa, of Rohan. Morwen... she was my mother. She sang the lullaby to me as a child, and I sang it to her in her last days. She passed on more than two years ago. I believe... I may be your sister-daughter... You do not know how long I have been searching for you... and my grandfather- she gave me a message for him- is he still living?" The answers poured from her lips as fast as the questions had com from his. She nodded in affirmation to the offer to go to his house for a more private discussion. The Wild Boar was no place for this.
Stunned, Berelach almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. - This… this young woman was his niece? - And - and Morwen was… and joy warred with grief in the Admiral’s heart as he waited for Freawyn to speak with Azner and gather her things.
Freawyn went to the back room and retrieved her satchel with her belongings. They were not much to boast about, but had served her well in the past two years. Looking around the inn quickly, she smiled, then nodded at Berelach and the others. "Shall we go, then?"
“Certainly,” Delagost said with a friendly smile, and clapped Saelon on the back as he drained the last of his drink and put down money on the table. Together the group headed for the door, and they had not long passed out of the Wild Boar when Freawyn motioned them to wait and ran to approach another young woman who was walking nearby. She looked familiar but Del couldn’t place her in his memory.
“Who is that?” he asked the others, and then smiled slightly when Freawyn dragged the girl over toward them excitedly.
"See? This is Berelach. He is my uncle. These are his friends, Delagost and Saelon." Turning to the men, she introduced her friend, "This is Cenewith, a friend of mine. You might know her brother- Baldir. He is a patron of the Boar, as well."
“Well met, Berelach. Your niece has been searching for you for lo! so many months now. I am so happy you two have finally met.”
She nodded to both Delagost and Saelon in greeting then turned to Frea again. “It is Baldir I have come to find. Is he by any chance within? Or has he been here this evening?”
Nodding politely in response to Cenewith, Berelach was too distracted with who Freawyn was, and too anxious to get back to the cottage to talk with her to do much else than that. - Nor did he pay much attention to the short conversation going on, though, he *did* wonder at the mention of Baldir. - But, when the young woman left again, Berelach was happy to leave what ‘ponderings’ there were to Saelon and Delagost as he led the way to his father’s dwelling.
The group soon continued on, and at the end of the path near the base of the hill on which Berelach’s home sat Delagost and Saelon bade their friend and his newfound niece goodnight, Del adding that he would meet Berelach in this very place in the morning.
With a sigh, Berelach almost wished he hadn’t decided to ride into Minas Tirith on the morrow with Delagost. - But… with a smile, “This way,” the Admiral told his newly-found niece, and led Freawyn up the path.
“It’s not *my* house, really,” Berelach explained as they neared the front door. “It’s my father’s,” and added (worriedly, and wishing he dared hope that Borlas had - by some miracle - returned), “But he’s not here right now.”
There would be time (later) to further elaborate on that, he knew, so with a smile, “Come in,” Berelach bade Freawyn, and watched her peering around at her grandfather’s house. “Just let me put some water on to heat and I’ll give you a tour,” the man offered. As they went through the house, “It’s been a long while since I’ve been here myself,” Berelach told his new relative. “I’m more at sea than I am on land.”
But, showing Freawyn the kitchen, the sitting room, and the rest of the house (barring just a passing comment as to the attic), “This was Morwen’s room,” Berelach said, opening the door to it. “You’re welcome to use it,” he went on, and then heard the kettle singing merrily down below. “Get yourself settled, and we’ll have tea in the sitting room,” and with a nod, Berelach hurried down the stairs.
When Freawyn joined him, he’d a tray with two cups, sugar, and milk set between two comfortable chairs, and a fire burning brightly before him. - And then, “Please, Freawyn,” Berelach begged her. “Tell me of my sister - would you? - Was she happy? - Were you happy? - What was Morwen’s life ‘like’ in Rohan? - Did… did she ever speak of me?, or father, or mother? - I missed her so!” and, unlike earlier in the evening, Berelach made himself ‘wait’ for his niece to answer before going on to the next question. - And, when it was inquired of him, the Admiral spoke of *his* life, and what Borlas was like.
It was long into the night before he finally bid Freawyn good night (bidding her to sleep herself out and make herself at home as she wished), and to his weary (but inward) ‘annoyance’, Berelach had discovered his niece had a definite ‘mind’ of her own. - No, he did *not* want her working at the Wild Boar - not with Baldir’s motives in question.
But, he’d told his niece of Borlas’ disappearance, and obliquely ‘inquired’ if Freawyn had overheard anything ‘odd’ on the evenings she’d been working, feeling that she *ought* to be aware of ‘trouble’ in the offing - even if he was ‘uncertain as to what kind of trouble it was…
And, despite he’d a long ride ahead, and it had been a very long day, Berelach found he could not sleep… and spent the remainder of the night reviewing what Freawyn had shared with him, as well as the young woman herself. It was a ‘strange’ thing, he thought, to so suddenly and unexpectedly find a relative like this, and the seaman liked Frea as much for herself as for their kinship.
But, such was his anxiety that Berelach had risen and dressed and grabbed a quick bite to eat and was out waiting for Delagost long before the other man showed up, and had decided on a course of action his niece might not ‘like’, but would nonetheless ‘occur’.
When the Gondorian Guard arrived, “Good morning,” Berelach returned the greeting, but instead of turning toward the White City, “I’ve got one stop to make before we leave - if you don’t mind?” he asked, and headed for Saelon’s father’s house.
It was still dark out, and with a smiling apology to Duilin, “I am sorry, sir,” Berelach said, “But I *do* need to speak with Saelon - just for a moment!” and waited for his friend to appear.
“Berelach! Delagost! You’re off to Minas Tirith, are you, but this is a bit out of your way, is it not?”
“Aye, it is,” Berelach agreed, but solemnly continued on. “I know it’s an ‘odd’ thing to ask, Saelon, but - would you keep an eye on Freawyn for me? - She’s going to keep working at the Boar, and with Baldir poking his nose in there, I’d feel better if someone I trust is near by. - At least until Delagost and I return, that is. - Will you?” and was immensely relieved when Saelon agreed.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Berelach bid Saelon farewell, and he and Delagost finally headed out.
after they had passed out of town they mounted up and continued on at a much quicker pace.
“Did you have a good meeting with your niece?” Delagost asked, and a little hesitantly added, “Freawyn was at the Boar when Baldir was there with ‘friends’- did she say anything about hearing them speaking?”
Shrugging one shoulder, “I didn’t ask that, really,” Berelach replied, “Though I did tell her of father’s unexplained disappearance. - At least Saelon will watch out for her,” he added, once again relieved for his friend’s assistance.
They spoke about these and other matters during the ride, not halting for rest along the way. It was late in the afternoon when they finally reached the White City, and guided their horses through the mighty gates. They made their way up through the different levels of the city, Delagost nodded greetings to those he knew along the way.
When they had come to the courtyard they dismounted, and passed the White Tree as they headed inside. The men at the door knew Delagost and so didn’t ask him any questions- once within, he told a servant that he needed to speak with the king, and then waited with Berelach in silence. He was thinking of where to begin when the servant returned and motioned for them to follow. They were taken to the same room in which he had spoken to Eldarion on the day before- and there stood the king, looking out of his window, his face solemn.
“My lord,” the servant said to get his attention, and the king turned and nodded to dismiss him. When Delagost went to bow Eldarion shook his head, “There is no need for that,” he said, “I had not expected you to return so soon, Delagost.. Greetings, Commander Berelach- please sit, my friends, and tell me what brings you here.”
“My lord, Berelach is a friend to our cause,” Delagost began, “And he has some disturbing things of his own to share- I will let him begin…”
Bowing to the King too, “What I have to say began some time ago, sire,” Berelach started in - first relating his discovery of the Osgiliath-stone several years before, the disappearance of a ship and it’s crew, and ending with the mysterious absence of his father. It was then Delagost’s turn, and the day was quite ‘spent’ by the time they’d finished.
Eldarion took it all in with a troubled expression on his face. Sighing when the two men had concluded, “This is disturbing news indeed,” he said solemnly, “But we cannot yet take any outright action. You must both keep your eyes and ears open- we have to learn all that we can.”
“I may have found a way to learn more about Baldir’s actions,” Delagost said,
Hoping so, but worried since Cenewith was friends with Freawyn - and who knew what ‘trouble’ that might lead to for his niece, Berelach bowed again at Eldarion’s sympathy for his missing father.
“I pray that he is found soon, unharmed. If I hear any word of him at all I will make sure you are the first to know.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the Admiral replied, “And I, too, will send word - somehow - if…” and then paused when they were suddenly interrupted…
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Booted though his feet were, Idhrenion’s footsteps were elven-silent as he crossed the courtyard and was led into the Royal Residence of King Eldarion. A quiet query to one of the servants, and the elf was handed off to another guide, who led the ellon to a finely-furnished drawing room… and upon knocking, they heard the Gondorian Ruler bid them to enter. To his inner disquiet, there were two men with Eldarion, and with a graceful bow, “Diheno nin, hîr nín,” (forgive me, my lord) Ren spoke in his native tongue, and then switched to the Common one. “You may not remember me, but I am Idhrenion of Imladris… friend to your father and mother, and to yourself. I do not wish to interrupt, but I have information for you that I do not think can wait.” He hated to have the two men sent out before their audience was over, but if two palantiri *had* been found, Idhrenion did not want to waste time!
The King then introduced his visitors, and the elf raised an eyebrow in surprise. “From Emyn Arnen?” he inquired, and though his face was ‘impassive’ an internal debate was occurring in the ellon’s thoughts. Dare he Speak with Delagost and Admiral Berelach here? - Or not?, and recalled one of his own notes. Making up his mind quickly, he nodded to himself, and then drew out the two books - as well as his sheaf of neatly-scribbled observations.
“These,” he said, offering the former to the King’s attention, “Are by the hands of your grandfather and that of Mithrandir,” and to the two Men, “You may know of him as Gandalf, from days of yore,” Ren added.
Returning his gaze to Eldarion, “In them, I have found ‘disturbing’ predictions, hîr nín. Nothing specific, but… if they are to be believed, Middle Earth may be in as grave a danger as when Sauron held his sway. I have no way to ‘prove’ it, but by my studies and gleanings, but…” and with a cautious glance to Delagost and Berelach, “I believe that two of the lost Seeing-Stones may make their reappearance!”
There was ‘more’, of course, but for the moment, the ellon watched the three faces before him carefully. Would he be believed?, or would Eldarion ‘dismiss’ Idhrenion’s warning as ‘nonsense’? If the latter, there was no point in continuing. - But, to his own amazement, there was instant concern (and startlement!) as Eldarion and Delagost and Berelach exchanged worried glances. “Hîr nín?” Ren hesitantly addressed the King of Gondor, but it was the sea-Admiral who then spoke up. “I think, sire, we should fill him in on our discussion… don’t you, Delagost?” and Berelach expected that *this* night was going to be just as long as the last one.
“’Fill me in’?” Idhrenion’s intense gaze went from man to man, and the ellon was beginning to suspect his discoveries were not as ‘tenuous’ as he’d feared to tell himself they were…
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: January 22, 2008 07:20
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(Here we go... I hope its alright that I went ahead and got our guys back on their way to Emyn Arnen... if I need to edit, just give me a poke and I shall.  )
Delagost had suggested his idea of befriending Baldir's sister to Saelon- it could possibly bring about some more information, whether or not the young woman was involved in her brother's dark 'business'. When his friend responded, though, there was an amused glint in his eyes. “Yes, I too did notice how pretty she was, Del,” he said, and Delagost's cheeks flushed and he gave Saelon a 'brotherly' glare. His friend only laughed and lightly punched his shoulder though, and Del's frown eased into a smile. They had teased eachother in such a way for years.
“Alright, you would never have such a thought, would you?” Continuing, his voice serious, he said, “Yes. It might be a good idea for one of us to verify whether she is aware of Baldir’s activities. Personally, I am not comfortable with Berelach leaving Freawyn here alone. I think I will be keeping an eye on her thus I will not have the time to watch them both. Though I must admit,” he added roguishly, “either one of them is worth the watching.”
Chuckling at his friend's words, "I suppose I must admit it too. They're both quite lovely. And I somehow hope that she's not aware of what's toward with Baldir- even if it means less information for us... the less innocents corrupted by evil, the better."
The path forked and they both went their separate ways, Saelon wishing, “Safe trip and may your dealings with our friend go well. I will see you when you return. Send a note to me when you and Berelach return and we can meet at the Wild Boar or perhaps at Borlas’s house.”
"I shall," Del said with a nod and a teasing grin, "Goodnight my friend. Try not to oversleep in the morning! "
The night passed much too swiftly and he left his family behind again, meeting Berelach at the appointed place and prepared for the ride to the city. He was much more tired than he liked, but there was no help for it- this news could not wait.
When the Gondorian Guard arrived, “Good morning,” Berelach returned the greeting, but instead of turning toward the White City, “I’ve got one stop to make before we leave - if you don’t mind?” he asked, and headed for Saelon’s father’s house.
It was still dark out, and with a smiling apology to Duilin, “I am sorry, sir,” Berelach said, “But I *do* need to speak with Saelon - just for a moment!” and waited for his friend to appear.
"Thank you so much," Delagost said with a smile when Saelon's mother poured them warm tea. She was much like his own mother, or an aunt, so often had he been at this house as a child. He sat quietly sipping his drink and wandering in memories of the past until Saelon appeared in only his trousers, still mussed from sleep.
“Berelach! Delagost! You’re off to Minas Tirith, are you, but this is a bit out of your way, is it not?”
“Aye, it is,” Berelach agreed, but solemnly continued on. “I know it’s an ‘odd’ thing to ask, Saelon, but - would you keep an eye on Freawyn for me? - She’s going to keep working at the Boar, and with Baldir poking his nose in there, I’d feel better if someone I trust is near by. - At least until Delagost and I return, that is. - Will you?” and was immensely relieved when Saelon agreed.
Inwardly grinning at thinking of Saelon's teasing about watching Freawyn the night before, he was relieved too. There was no telling what sort of trouble was possible and could happen while he and Berelach were gone- if it had been his sister working in the tavern he would have wanted the same thing.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Berelach bid Saelon farewell, and he and Delagost finally headed out.
With a final farewell to his old friend Delagost joined Berelach and they headed at last for the city. Their conversation ranged from Freawyn's appearance to the weather, and by late afternoon they had come into Minas Tirith. Quickly they made for the topmost level, and sought an audience with the king. As they waited he was uneasy, hoping that no one would think it strange that he'd come back only a day after leaving- if any of Baldir's friends were to get 'wind' of what he was about...
When they were let in to speak to Eldarion they shared all that they knew and their opinions on the matter. The king was disturbed by it all, and offered his hope that Berelach's father would be found safe and soon.
Thank you, my lord,” the Admiral replied, “And I, too, will send word - somehow - if…” and then paused when they were suddenly interrupted…
"Enter," Eldarion bade whoever-it-was, and the door opened to reveal an elf. Delagost was surprised- he wondered what brought an elf here. Though, of course, if anyone in Minas Tirith would have elven friends, it would be their king, who was the son of the Evenstar herself. Out of respect the young guard stood to his feet.
The elf bowed gracefully and spoke in his own language, saying something Del didn't understand (though it sounded so majestic that he wished he knew the language), but he then switched to the common tongue.
“You may not remember me, but I am Idhrenion of Imladris… friend to your father and mother, and to yourself. I do not wish to interrupt, but I have information for you that I do not think can wait.”
"Idhrenion," Eldarion repeated the name and smiled a bit wanly, "Indeed, I do remember you. I bid you warm welcome, friend. Let me introduce you to Delagost, Citadel Guard, and Berelach, Sea Commander, both from Emyn Arnen."
“From Emyn Arnen?” he inquired, and though his face was ‘impassive’ an internal debate was occurring in the ellon’s thoughts. Dare he Speak with Delagost and Admiral Berelach here? - Or not?, and recalled one of his own notes. Making up his mind quickly, he nodded to himself, and then drew out the two books - as well as his sheaf of neatly-scribbled observations.
“These,” he said, offering the former to the King’s attention, “Are by the hands of your grandfather and that of Mithrandir,” and to the two Men, “You may know of him as Gandalf, from days of yore,” Ren added.
Gandalf, Delagost thought in awe, and blinked in wonder at the books as Eldarion took them- and Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. The part of the young man that had ever been fascinated with and adoring of the history and tales of those days wished dearly that he could see those notes for himself- though if they were written in elvish he'd not be able to understand them. But, just to *hold* the same volumes created by those who were so much more powerful, more important, so much wiser than himself... but as the elf continued, his boyish wonder faded into a solemn frown.
Returning his gaze to Eldarion, “In them, I have found ‘disturbing’ predictions, hîr nín. Nothing specific, but… if they are to be believed, Middle Earth may be in as grave a danger as when Sauron held his sway. I have no way to ‘prove’ it, but by my studies and gleanings, but…” and with a cautious glance to Delagost and Berelach, “I believe that two of the lost Seeing-Stones may make their reappearance!”
At hearing that Delagost's eyes widened again. They had predicted such would happen? And.... danger such as when the dark lord had been in power? A chill went down his spine and he shared a worried glance with Eldarion and then Berelach. The situation was more serious than they had thought. Neither of them had known Sauron's evil first hand, but there were enough dark tales from the past to let them know just how terrible he'd been.
Eldarion's eyes were trained on the books, his own gaze dark and worried. He was silent.
. “Hîr nín?” Ren hesitantly addressed the King of Gondor, but it was the sea-Admiral who then spoke up. “I think, sire, we should fill him in on our discussion… don’t you, Delagost?” and Berelach expected that *this* night was going to be just as long as the last one.
Nodding, "I do," Del agreed.
At Ren's 'fill me in?'. Eldarion grasped his shoulder and shook his head.
"Perhaps you should take a seat, my friend. There is much to tell, and much of it disheartening."
After Idhrenion had settled into a chair (though he looked rather tense and not really settled at all), the three of them proceeded to tell him what was afoot- the secret meetings in the woods, the evil intentions of Baldir and his followers, the continuous swapping of news between their secret sources. Del watched the elf's face and could tell that he was disturbed deeply by what he heard. When they had finished in their telling, "What else do those books tell you?" the young man asked.
After the four of them had spoken for quite a while longer, Eldarion looked at the window and realized that the time had worn away. The room had grown dark, save for the fire in the hearth. With a solemn expression he silently went about lighting two candles.
"You should return to Emyn Arnen, unless you wish to stay the night, " he said to Delagost and Berelach, "Find out all that you can. We must know all that Baldir knows, and he must not know of the other hidden stone. If you think it is unsafe where it is now, then hide it away elsewhere. I want to say that it should be brought here, but to move it might be the worst mistake to be made. I wish I knew what other action to suggest but right now, I do not."
"Yes my lord. And... you're more than welcome to come with us," Delagost said, turning to the elf who he liked quite well already, "I think it would be wise for you to speak with Saelon. He has spoken with Baldir himself. And perhaps we should leave now, instead of staying here all night. I'm weary, but rest can be had once we're home. What do you think, Berelach?"
He looked at the other man for his opinion, then to the elf.
"It has gotten very late already," Eldarion said, "I bid you all to take a short meal with me at least- and take care when you go. I hope that it isn't so, but there could be unfriendly eyes in my own House."
After the said meal- which was delicious, but rather cheerless considering the weight on everyone's minds- the three travelers prepared to leave the city once again, now under the cover of night. Delagost pulled his hood over his head as they turned their horses through the gate. Idhrinion's help would be valuable in Emyn Arnen, but the fact that he was an elf would certainly bring him notice. Would Baldir and his men think it suspicious? The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with that man.... Sighing, he didn't speak to either of his companions as they traveled down through each level of the city... and not until they were on the road toward home did he turn to them and open his mouth.
"It'll be near dawn when we get back," he said, "Idhrenion, if you'd rather not stay at an inn in town you're welcome at my family's house, though you may find my younger sister a bit pestering."
He figured that Berelach would offer the same kindness, but he wasn't sure- since Berelach's niece had just come into his life and was also staying there.
After a while he turned to the elf again. He couldn't help his curiosity- the closest he had been to the tales of the past was by reading books, or speaking to Eldarion. The former wasn't all that rewarding, and his conversations with the king were all 'dark' of late.
"Forgive me if I seem rude," he said a bit hesitantly, "But... Gandalf... and, Lord Elrond... did you know them? Did you know anyone from the famous Fellowship? What were they like...?"
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: February 29, 2008 05:06
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(OOC: I’m keeping this simple at this time due to the absence of Rodwen (though I feel like I’m talking to myself..*grins*). It is at the very least something with which to carry on for the time being)
“Aye, it is,” Berelach agreed, but solemnly continued on. “I know it’s an ‘odd’ thing to ask, Saelon, but - would you keep an eye on Freawyn for me? - She’s going to keep working at the Boar, and with Baldir poking his nose in there, I’d feel better if someone I trust is near by. - At least until Delagost and I return, that is. - Will you?” and was immensely relieved when Saelon agreed.
Saelon stood in the doorway watching the backs of Berelach and Delagost, the tails of their horses swaying back and forth, as the rode off towards Minas Tirith. When Berel glanced back once, he raised his hand in a short wave then turned and returned to the kitchen, where his mother stood next to the table holding a loaf of freshly baked bread in a towel in her hands, her eyes wide.
“Berelach’s niece, Borlas’s grandaughter, has come to Emyn Arnen, Saelon? When and how did this happen?” his mother asked him.
When he had told her the tale of the meeting in the Wild Boar due to the simple lullaby, Saelon’s mother shook her head in wonder. “You should go to her now, and see if there’s anything that she needs. Invite her to dinner if you wish. I don’t like thinking of her being a newcomer to our community and yet eating alone, poor child. Why ever would Berelach trot off to Minas Tirith and leave her this way...it’s not like that young man to be so thoughtless. I shall have to have a talk with Borlas about his son’s behavior, whenever Borlas returns, that is.”
Saelon could only grimace into his cup of tea, as he surely could not share Berel’s reasons with her. Even his father knew nothing of his activities, nor did he plan to tell him. Duillin would be horrified, so when the older man entered the kitchen, he apologized that he would be late to the forge this day for he had other business to attend to. Smiling, he nodded to his mother, saying, “She will tell you what I’m about as it is her idea.”
Leaving quickly before his father could call him back, he strode along the pathways quickly until he found himself once again at the gate, behind which lay the walkway up the hill to Borlas’s. He stared at the small stone cottage at the top of the hill, noting the smoke rising from the chimney, and with a deep sigh, he opened the gate, closing it behind him before he climbed to the front door. Knocking lightly, he waited for Berel’s niece to answer. And he waited and waited, hearing no movement within the house. Knocking again, louder this time, he stared off down the hill as he waited and listened for Frea’s footsteps.
When there was no response, he tried the door handle, finding the door unlocked. He entered the hallway and called out, “Frea, it’s Saelon.” Still no response. Puzzled he peeked into the sitting room, noting the cold ashes in the fireplace, but seeing nothing else out of order. His hurried footsteps carried him to the kitchen and entered the chilly room. There were not even warm embers in the iron stove and the sink was empty of dishes, the table and shelves neat and tidy. In the middle of the table, propped against a small pitcher, was a white folded paper addressed to Berelach and sealed with wax. Not recognizing the hand that wrote that name, Saelon picked it up, and holding it in his hand wondered if he should open it. Deciding against it, however, he set it back where he had found it, though his thoughts tumbled about in his mind. Where could she have gone, he asked himself.
Sighing and fully discomfitted, he left the house, closing the door behind him, and strode off towards home. Once again, someone had disappeared without explanation from this house, though he assured himself that it was not without explanation. After all, there was a note left behind this time that he was certain would explain it all...he hoped.
The day passed quickly as he helped his father at the forge and then spent the afternoon riding through the northern forest to ascertain which trees were ready for culling and how many men he would need to hire to do this as well as cart the unfinished logs to the mill to be sawn into lumber for the ever increasing building needs in the small village. Emyn Arnen, like most surrounding towns and villages, had been growing and expanding ever since the great war and more and more building was taking place. His business of providing the lumber for this building was expanding exponentially.
By nightfall, he had returned home, in time to bathe and sit with his parents for dinner. His mother was the first to ask how his meeting with Frea had gone and why she wasn’t here for dinner. When he explained about the note, his mother glanced at his father and she murmured, “How strange. Where could she have gone? That’s two folks of town who have suddenly disappeared.” Then she took a bite of her food and refused to look up until her plate was empty.
Saelon excused himself, telling his parents he would be at the Wild Boar if he was needed, and left to hurry to the tavern. When he arrived, his eyes glanced around the room quickly, searching for Frea but not seeing her. However, his eyes spotted Baldir and Cenewith sitting at a small table in the corner and he debated whether to leave them to themselves but decided instead to walk over and bid them greetings.
“Baldir!” he called out as he approached their table. “And this is your sister, Cenewith, am I right? Good evening, fair lady. How lovely to see you again.”
Baldir glanced up at Saelon, looking none too pleased to see him though he nodded his head in Saelon’s direction. His brow lifted however when Saelon greeted Cenewith and he appeared even more troubled by the inference that they had met before. “You two have met, have you?” he growled, his dark eyes holding his sister’s amber ones.
Cenewith bit her lip, knowing that Baldir would be distressed by her search for him in the dead of night and quickly glanced pleadingly at Saelon as she said, “Oh, Saelon, greetings to you too.” Turning to Baldir, she explained, “Yes, Baldir. We met .. we met in the marketplace. He ..um...he knows Frea...you know, the Frea who sings here, and I....well, I was speaking with her when he came upon us. Frea introduced us at that time. Isn’t that so?” she asked Saelon, her eyes begging him to understand her plight.
Saelon, aware of the tension and noting Cenewith’s fear of her brother’s finding out she had been searching for him, quickly and easily agreed. “Indeed! I of course know Frea who we have discovered is niece to Admiral Berelach, grandaughter to Borlas, and I was delighted to see her at the market place. Cenewith was there at the time and Frea kindly introduced us.” Changing the subject quickly, he said, “I gather you and your sister are dining together before your return to Minas Tirith. I will not keep you but it was nice to see you both. Perhaps I’ll see you when you return,” he said suggestively to Baldir, knowing that indeed he would for there was sure to be another midnight meeting when the dark Citadel officer returned. Bowing slightly, without looking in Cenewith’s direction and thus not seeing the relief that filled her eyes, he pivoted on his heel and wandered off towards the bar where he waited until Anzar appeared.
“Anzar, has Frea been by today?” he asked, hoping the inn keeper would be able to give him word of Berel’s niece.
“Haven’t seen her since she left last night with Berelach and you two gentlemen, Saelon. She wasn’t plannin’ on returning for at least a week or so...or at least that was the time she asked for. Good news, eh? Berelach findin’ his family after so many years?” Anzar set a pint in front of Saelon as he spoke then turned to attend to his other customers.
Saelon sipped his drink, lost in thought. Where was Frea? And how was he going to explain this to Berelach when he returned? He had agreed to watch over her and now she too was gone like her grandfather. His sleep that night was filled with nightmares and he was up before Duilin came to wake him the next morning. He hoped Berelach and Delagost would not be delayed in Minas Tirith.
It was late that afternoon, almost nightfall, when he looked up from his work at the forge to see three riders headed in his direction. He recognized Berelach and Delagost at once but the third rider stunned him. The slender grace, the pointed ears, the elegant robes....all pointed to this third rider being an ‘elf’. An ELF? Puzzled, he put down his tools and went out to meet his friends and their riding companion.
“Berelach! Delagost! Welcome home.” he called out to them as they drew closer. But his eyes never left the third rider as he waited for them to reach his side....and tell him who this person was and why he was riding with them.
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: March 02, 2008 06:22
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((Okay, ladies - if I need to edit anything, just let me know!!! ))
Berelach and Delagost had been waiting for the Gondorian King’s ‘response’ to their news, but then a knock was heard and Eldarion bid the interrupter to enter. - And, the Admiral of the Fleet was as startled as his friend to see an elf slip quietly (and gracefully) into the room.
"Idhrenion," Eldarion repeated the name and smiled a bit wanly, "Indeed, I do remember you. I bid you warm welcome, friend. Let me introduce you to Delagost, Citadel Guard, and Berelach, Sea Commander, both from Emyn Arnen."
Bowing politely to the elf, Berelach was even *more* surprised when Idhrenion pulled out two volumes from his pack and announced they’d belonged to the White Wizard and the Lord of Rivendell… and followed with an explanation of what he’d ‘discovered’ within the pages.
To the ellon’s astonishment, his gleanings were not as ‘shocking’ as he’d thought they might be, but as the Citadel Guard and the Admiral then shared why they’d come to Minas Tirith, Ren became certain that his ‘timing’ had been - well - ‘impeccable’, he thought was a very good choice of words. - For, that he and these two unknown men had shown up with similar concerns just now could not be ‘denied’ as being important. - But, keenly, the elf listened, to be sure he was clear on what he was hearing.
When they had finished in their telling, "What else do those books tell you?" the young man asked.
Solemnly, Idhrenion considered his reply. “They are entitled - in your language - “’The Veiled Eye’ and, ‘Alas, the Eye Opens,’” the elf stated. “And, though I have but had a night only to study them, they speak of great danger, and of Emyn Arnen as - somehow - being ‘integral’ to defeating it.”
Turning to the King, “I would like more ‘time’ to examine the tests, hîr nín,” the ellon went on, “But I think there is little to be given. I *would* like to visit Emyn Arnen,” Ren added, “Perhaps there is a quiet place I can reread the books there, or gather some ‘sense’ of that place and its part in all this. It may be I can learn more by being there…”
After the four of them had spoken for quite a while longer, Eldarion looked at the window and realized that the time had worn away. The room had grown dark, save for the fire in the hearth. With a solemn expression he silently went about lighting two candles.
"You should return to Emyn Arnen, unless you wish to stay the night, " he said to Delagost and Berelach, "Find out all that you can. We must know all that Baldir knows, and he must not know of the other hidden stone. If you think it is unsafe where it is now, then hide it away elsewhere. I want to say that it should be brought here, but to move it might be the worst mistake to be made. I wish I knew what other action to suggest but right now, I do not."
"Yes my lord. And... you're more than welcome to come with us," Delagost said, turning to the elf who he liked quite well already, "I think it would be wise for you to speak with Saelon. He has spoken with Baldir himself. And perhaps we should leave now, instead of staying here all night. I'm weary, but rest can be had once we're home. What do you think, Berelach?"
He looked at the other man for his opinion, then to the elf.
"It has gotten very late already," Eldarion said, "I bid you all to take a short meal with me at least- and take care when you go. I hope that it isn't so, but there could be unfriendly eyes in my own House."
Not having ‘considered’ that, Berelach sighed. “I’d just as soon get back as quickly as we can,” he gave his opinion, and thinking of his newly-found niece. - Though, he trusted that Saelon would see no ‘harm’ came to Freawyn, it was a new thing for the Admiral to be worried about the young woman… particularly with his father disappearing in so-strange a manner.
Idhrenion, nodding his thanks to Delagost, joined in the meal… as his ‘habit’, eating lightly, and then politely excused himself to return to the Inn and pack up his things. “I will meet you at the Red Lantern,” he told the two men, and bowing to the King, headed back to do just that.
Along the way, the conversation he ‘replayed’ in his mind… and the elf with short, curly hair was eager to get to Emyn Arnen and see what was ‘what’ in that small, quiet place in Gondor…
*******************************
Berelach could wish for better circumstances for this visit to the White City - it had been long since he’d been here, and it would have been nice to spend more time here. - But, such was not to ‘be’, he thought, as he and Delagost made their farewells to Eldarion and headed out to meet with the elf.
He was, as promised, awaiting them in front of the Inn, now clad in robes that swept the ground with graceful movements as Ren vaulted to his mount’s back. As one, he turned Eluvorn’s head to fall in step with the others, as they silently made their way down the level to the main Gates.
What ‘thoughts’ his traveling-companions might have he was curious about, though they’d some hours of travel in which to talk. - And, the quiet of the night was broken by the Citadel Guard…
"It'll be near dawn when we get back," he said, "Idhrenion, if you'd rather not stay at an inn in town you're welcome at my family's house, though you may find my younger sister a bit pestering."
With a slight smile, “I thank you, Delagost,” the ellon inclined his head, “that is kind of you,“ and nodded when Berelach commented on a newly-discovered relative now at his father’s abode. “I would not wish to ‘intrude’,” Ren murmured to the sea-Admiral, “Though, I would like to visit your house,” he added, thinking it a good place to get a ‘feel’ for. - After all, Borlas had ‘disappeared’ from there… at least, that is what had been ‘assumed’.
But… was it so, he wondered. From what this ‘Saelon’ had reported to them, it did look that way… but, might Borlas have gone somewhere before this planned ‘meeting’?
It was, Idhrenion mused, something to think on… and he was pondering it when Delagost once again spoke.
"Forgive me if I seem rude," he said a bit hesitantly, "But... Gandalf... and, Lord Elrond... did you know them? Did you know anyone from the famous Fellowship? What were they like...?"
As much as the elf was Berelach thrown off by his new friend’s questions, but - like Delagost - he couldn’t help but be curious as to what Idhrenion would answer.
Yet, with a ‘twitch’ of his lips, “I knew both of them,” Ren replied. “Though I knew not Mithrandir ‘well’.”
Continuing, “I met several of the Fellowship,” the ellon admitted, “They did spend some time in Imladris before leaving on their Task. - As for what they were ‘like’…” Idhrenion paused to think on those times… of Estel (called ‘Strider’ in those days), of the Gondorian Steward’s son, and the four Halflings. Of the Dwarves, he’d not spent much concern over - there was little ‘love’ lost between them and elf-kind, of course.
Yet, with a half-smile, “I found them… ‘intriguing’, I think,” Ren replied, and then quite seriously, “- And, as many in Imladris, I felt great worry that the Ring would fall again into Sauron’s possession.”
Sighing, though, to think that ‘danger’ was again threatening Middle Earth, “But, I will say that when Hîr Elrond’s Council was called, there was a great deal of respect felt for Frodo Baggins’ bravery…”
Berelach, listening to this, then voiced a question of his own. “What do you ‘do’ in Rivendell, Idhrenion?” he inquired. “I hadn’t thought there were any elves left there, I thought they were all Sailing West,” and to which the elf shrugged slightly. “I spend my time reading, hîr Admiral,” and with a small smile, “There are a few of us who have not yet heard the Gull’s Cry,” he went on, “And until I do, I will ‘stay’ in Arda.”
Not really much of a ‘talker’, and (as he’d said) One who spent the bulk of his time with his nose in a book, “What of you two?” he asked. “Will you tell me of yourselves, and of Emyn Arnen?”, for he thought whatever knowledge he could learn could stand them in good ‘stead’…
~@~@~@~
Although neither ‘dawdling’, nor ‘hurrying’, the three riders kept their pace steady throughout the night… talking (or listening) quietly to pass the time. The ‘reason’ for their journey was (of course) discussed somewhat, though Berelach noticed they all seemed to ‘avoid’ the subject for the most part.
It was still several hours before dawn when - out of the ‘blue’, Idhrenion suddenly heard a ‘scrabbling‘ sound on the road… followed by a ‘change’ in the gait of Berelach’s mount, and called out just as the animal stumbled. Startled, the Admiral (who was *much* more used to riding sea-waves than horses) found the gritty road rushing up to meet him as he was tumbled from the saddle.
Bringing Eluvorn to a halt, the elf dismounted only a hairsbreadth’s moment before Delagost could, and swiftly grabbed the free-swinging reins. “Are you all right?” he inquired, and with a few softly-spoken elvish words began to calm the frightened horse.
“I think so,” Berelach grumpily replied, and then thanked the Citadel Guard for his aid. “Is he?” he asked of the gelding he’d borrowed for the trip. “What happened?”
“A rabbit,” the elf replied solemnly, and ran his hands gently down the horse’s leg. “I think he’s unhurt,” Idhrenion went on, “But I would suggest we slow our pace to be certain.”
And so, a bit ‘shaken’, Berelach cautiously remounted, and the three once again moved on.
But, traveling merely at a walk from then on, it wasn’t until late afternoon that they finally reached Emyn Arnen.
Keenly, Idhrenion looked about himself, trying to get a ‘feel’ for this place that both Hîr Elrond and Mithrandir had mentioned in their writings.
Berelach felt both relief and nervousness at getting back… as well as eagerness to check on his niece and the remote ‘hope’ his father might have returned. As chance had it, though, their path took them past Duilin’s forge, and his old friend was there working.
Puzzled, he put down his tools and went out to meet his friends and their riding companion.
“Berelach! Delagost! Welcome home.” he called out to them as they drew closer. But his eyes never left the third rider as he waited for them to reach his side
Nearing the forge, the Admiral swung down from his horse, and as his companions alit as well, “Saelon!” he greeted the smith, and then tried to dampen his ‘impatience’ while Delagost introduced the elf, and why he was with them.
Bowing gracefully, “Hîr Saelon,” Idhrenion politely acknowledged the man. “I am eager to speak with you,” he added.
“Yes,” Berelach broke in, “But I need to get home - we can talk there, can‘t we? Saelon, how was Freawyn when you checked on her? Are you though with your work?”
~@~@~@~
Coming into his father’s house, Berelach was shaking as he reached for the note ‘left’ for him. He’d called Frea’s name as soon as he’d flung the door open, but all was as eerily ‘quiet’ as it had been when he’d not found his father there, either.
Behind him, Idhrenion was standing next to Saelon and Delagost with his eyes closed. He felt like ‘shivering’, but did not. ‘Evil’, yes… the elf ‘sensed’ it, though that might be (in part?) caused by the ‘object’ hidden within the walls.
Berelach, however, after tearing open the message, moaned and sank into a chair by the table and stared at the words written thereon. It *was* from his niece… and (to the Admiral’s tired eyes) seemed ‘jumbled’. - But, in a very strained voice, “Freawyn writes that our talk the other night made her think of something she’d remembered overhearing at the Boar. She - she says she thinks she knows were father is, and has gone to look for him!” he went on, and lifted a ‘haunted-looking’ gaze to the others. “She doesn’t say where she went!”
“That is indeed unfortunate,” Idhrenion quietly commented, thinking this second disappearance did not ‘help’ matters in the least, and glanced at Delagost and Saelon.
More worried than ever, Berelach could only stare blankly at his niece’s message. He *shouldn’t* have gone to Minas Tirith!, he writhed inwardly, hating that Freawyn had gone off ‘alone’ into who-knew-what kind of danger…
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: April 11, 2008 06:22
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(I'm sorry it took me sooo long! c_c If anything at all needs changing, please let me know  )
Despite the seriousness of their situation, and the purpose of their journey, Delagost couldn't help asking the elf if he'd known the great leaders of the past, and the members of the legendary Fellowship- for, weren't elves immortal? Wouldn't he have met them? The young man's thirst for stories of those days long gone by won him over, and so he did ask.
“I knew both of them,” Ren replied. “Though I knew not Mithrandir ‘well’.”
Continuing, “I met several of the Fellowship,” the ellon admitted, “They did spend some time in Imladris before leaving on their Task. - As for what they were ‘like’…” Idhrenion paused. Yet, with a half-smile, “I found them… ‘intriguing’, I think,” Ren replied, and then quite seriously, “- And, as many in Imladris, I felt great worry that the Ring would fall again into Sauron’s possession.”
Intriguing, Delagost thought. Well, he supposed that they would be- especially the halflings, he supposed. At hearing of the worry he nodded to himself... all of the stories had said it was a far-fetched hope from the beginning, the Task of the Fellowship... but, it had been completed.
Sighing, though, to think that ‘danger’ was again threatening Middle Earth, “But, I will say that when Hîr Elrond’s Council was called, there was a great deal of respect felt for Frodo Baggins’ bravery…”
The young man didn't respond, but was thoughtful. Yes, Frodo Baggins, who's name was well known. Such a small fellow, yet with his servant Samwise he'd saved Middle-Earth. Growing solemn, he wondered if they would be able to do the same. If this new evil threatened not only Gondor, but all lands of Arda... could it be stopped? His thoughts were interrupted when Berelach spoke up.
. “What do you ‘do’ in Rivendell, Idhrenion?” he inquired. “I hadn’t thought there were any elves left there, I thought they were all Sailing West,” and to which the elf shrugged slightly. “I spend my time reading, hîr Admiral,” and with a small smile, “There are a few of us who have not yet heard the Gull’s Cry,” he went on, “And until I do, I will ‘stay’ in Arda.”
Not really much of a ‘talker’, and (as he’d said) One who spent the bulk of his time with his nose in a book, “What of you two?” he asked. “Will you tell me of yourselves, and of Emyn Arnen?”, for he thought whatever knowledge he could learn could stand them in good ‘stead’…
"I was born in Emyn Arnen... its a quite place, mostly, or used to be. My father was a city guard in Gondor, and so I followed his footsteps... "
Delagost went on to tell (along with Berelach) some about their home, and the Citadel Guard imagined how his sister would react to meeting an elf. She, like he himself, adored the stories of the past, and especially tales of elves. It made him smile inwardly to think of her 'pouncing' on the soft-spoken Idhrenion.
They continued on, speaking of this and that to pass the time, traveling at a steady pace.
The reason for their journey they didn't discuss so much... it seemed a bad idea to do so out on the Road at night, almost as if it would be inviting the creatures of nightmares to come flying from the shadows to attack. Delagost rather preferred hearing about Rivendell, or talking about his boyhood adventures with Saelon.
He was humming to himself a song he'd learned as a child when he heard the elf call out, and then Berelach's horse stumbled. Pulling his own mount to a halt Delagost turned to see his friend tumbling from the saddle. He dismounted quickly only to find that Idhrenion was already reaching for the reins of the startled horse. Blinking in surprise, he concluded that elves were very fast- but his attention was then on his friend. He extended a hand to help Berelach to his feet.
"Are you all right?” he inquired, and with a few softly-spoken elvish words began to calm the frightened horse.
“I think so,” Berelach grumpily replied, and then thanked the Citadel Guard for his aid. “Is he?” he asked of the gelding he’d borrowed for the trip. “What happened?”
“A rabbit,” the elf replied solemnly, and ran his hands gently down the horse’s leg. “I think he’s unhurt,” Idhrenion went on, “But I would suggest we slow our pace to be certain.”
"Then we should get moving," Delagost added, looking around for the offending rabbit but not seeing it (of course). He couldn't help imagining Baldir and his men standing off in the shadows, with arrows ready to fire. He cursed himself for feeling so uneasy- as a Citadel Guard he was supposed to be brave. Grumbling inwardly he remounted as well, and the three of them moved onward at a slower pace.
Morning dawned on them and Delagost was tired... he had hardly returned from his duties, after all, when he had to leave again... and he was looking forward to sleeping. When sleep would come, he didn't know. There were important matters at hand.
It was late afternoon when they finally reached Emyn Arnen. The guard glanced at the elf and saw him looking about keenly. Del wondered what Saelon would think of their having a new person in their party- an one of the immortal race at that. It could only help their cause... he hoped...
They neared the place where Saelon was working, and Del was relived to see him. At least nothing had happened while they were gone.
“Berelach! Delagost! Welcome home.” he called out to them as they drew closer. But his eyes never left the third rider as he waited for them to reach his side.
Nearing the forge, the Admiral swung down from his horse, and as his companions alit as well, “Saelon!” he greeted the smith,
"Saelon," Del said with a smile, "Greetings again. This is Idhrenion of Rivendell.. we met when he came to Minas Tirith to speak to our mutual friend there. He has some information very relevant to our business..."
Bowing gracefully, “Hîr Saelon,” Idhrenion politely acknowledged the man. “I am eager to speak with you,” he added.
“Yes,” Berelach broke in, “But I need to get home - we can talk there, can‘t we? Saelon, how was Freawyn when you checked on her? Are you though with your work?”
A look of distress crossed Saelon's face and Del glanced at Berelach, feeling that something was amiss at once. Had something happened to Frea?
Saelon's explanation was given soon enough, and it was rather quickly that the four of them went to Berelach's house. His new friend threw open the door and called his nieces name, but there was no answer. In the kitchen they found the note... and Delagost stood silent and solemn as the Admiral picked it up. Berelach read the letter and then moaned and sank into a chair as though his legs gave out beneath him. Sharing a worried glance with Saelon (he had noticed Idhrenion was standing with his eyes closed) he stepped forward, "What is it, Berelach?" he asked.
But, in a very strained voice, “Freawyn writes that our talk the other night made her think of something she’d remembered overhearing at the Boar. She - she says she thinks she knows where father is, and has gone to look for him!” he went on, and lifted a ‘haunted-looking’ gaze to the others. “She doesn’t say where she went!”
“That is indeed unfortunate,” Idhrenion quietly commented, thinking this second disappearance did not ‘help’ matters in the least, and glanced at Delagost and Saelon.
"Yes, it is," Delagost said. He thought of the pretty young woman stepping into the path of danger and frowned deeply. Why hadn't she just waited until they'd returned, and spoke her thoughts to them then? Why hadn't she gone to Saelon? There was no telling what she was getting into... truly, his heart went out to Berelach. Grasping the man's shoulder, he tried to think of some words of comfort but could summon none. To assure him that 'everything would be alright' would sound hollow.... first his father, and now his niece. Del prayed that his own family was still all at home, and unharmed. He felt an urgent need to check on them.
"Where do you think she went?" he asked, and for a little while they discussed it, but without coming to any conclusion.
Glancing at Saelon, "Idhrenion has some disturbing things to tell you, Sael," Del said grimly, and the discussion turned to the dark matter at hand for a while. Idhrenion shared with Saelon what he'd already told the other two men, and Saelon shared some information too... making Delagost even more fearful for Freawyn, and more uneasy than ever about the while situation. He looked at the window and realized that it had gotten very late... and suddenly he felt the weight of having been up and going for so many hours.
He lay a hand on Berelach's shoulder, "And I know you want to try and find news of Freawyn, but its late, and we've had a long, long ride. There won't be many people who we could ask tonight."
Berelach protested, but Delagost insisted that they all needed some sleep before they attempted anything. He grasped the admiral's wrist in a comforting gesture and assured him that, wherever Freawyn had gone, she probably would be making camp at that very time, and probably wouldn't get very far very fast, anyway. Even if they did set out tonight, they were all too tired to be successful trackers (he didn't know about the elf, but he knew that Berelach didn't need to push himself any further without rest).
"I'll look around for news of her myself in the morning," Del promised, "Someone should have seen her before she left."
He agreed that he would meet them at the Boar the next evening, when it would be busy anyway and no one would think it odd to see them all there once again. Plus, that was about as soon as they'd all have time.
"Where will you be staying, Idhrenion?" Delagost asked... and it was understandable that Ren didn't feel comfortable being in this house, near that which was hidden here. He smiled again his invitation, and the elf accepted.
Before heading off Del encouraged Berelach to get some rest so he'd be fresh in the morning. He, Saelon and Idrenion walked as a group for a bit but soon parted ways. Delagost gripped his old friend's shoulder with a, "Goodnight, Sael... don't oversleep in the morning!"
He didn't say much to the elf as they made their way to his modest home. They were both silent and their thoughts were dark. As they entered Delagost found his family seated around the supper table. Smiling tiredly at them, he greeted them all and introduced Idhrenion (as a friend he'd met in the city), and assured them they'd be sitting down to eat as soon as he'd stabled the horses and cleaned up. His limbs were stiff as he went about these tasks, but he knew that if what Idhrenion had said was true then he would spend more time riding in the future than he ever had before, most likely.
"Do you want a bath?" he asked the elf, and went to see the two tubs prepared, one in his room and the other in the bathing room. As he went to take his own he could hear his sister introducing herself to Idhrenion in the hallway, her excitement barely contained. Of course, he'd told her stories of elves when she was but a little child....
He mused on many things as he scrubbed himself with a warm washcloth, wishing he were brave enough to confront Baldir... but that would be stupid, and would give away their secret conspiracy easily. He worried that having an elf here would make their enemies suspicious.. but, Baldir would have gone this night to begin his turn of duty, if Del had his days correct. He shuddered slightly, and hoped that the other guard would take no action while in Minas Tirith. Lord Eldarion was wary of him, of course, but....
And Freawyn... what could she have thought of? Where had she gone?
Clean and somewhat refreshed, Delagost returned to the kitchen. He found his mother and father sitting there with his little sister, who was staring at Idhrenion's pointed ears and ageless face without shame and with deep fascination.
"Sister," he said and gave her a teasing grin, "Will you see that the guest room is ready?"
"I already did," she said with a bright smile, "And Idhrenion cleaned up a lot faster than you. Now you need to eat."
His family was all done eating, but they sat there with him and the elf while they ate so that the two wouldn't be dining alone.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be getting ready for bed?" he asked, to which his sister chuckled and pinched his arm, "We've not been able to eat with you for so long, its a treat even to watch you do it."
"Then I must be more conscious of my manners," Del replied with a wink, "What a task to put on the shoulders of a weary soldier!"
He shared a grin with the elf, his mood lightened quite a bit. His sister always was able to cheer him up.
When he later fell into bed, Delagost was quickly asleep. It felt ages since he'd rested, and he slept hard, until he was woken by a knock on his door. Blinking and sitting up sleepily, he saw his father peeking in.
"Your mother said you wanted to be woken," he said, a bit gruffly, "So, here I am. Though I think you ought to stay in bed for a day."
"Don't be silly," Del said, and as the door shut he yawned and saw to getting himself dressed. His mind was at once on Freawyn, and her disappearance. When he rose he found their guest already awake, and standing outside in the cool air of morning. He was dressed in some of Del's own clothes, though they were a bit baggy and a tad too short. At hearing that it had been his sibling's idea, to replace his elven robes so that he wouldn't 'stand out' so much, Delagost smiled... but wondered uneasily why she should think it important. He knew the elf wouldn't have said anything to her. Did she suspect....?
"I'm going to make some rounds through the village," Del told him, "Check with the farmers on the borders, and see if anyone saw Freawyn leaving . Are you coming with me?"
The elf agreed... and so, with Idhrenion in tow, Del headed first for the farm houses where he had planned to seek information. Three men he spoke two, interrupting two at their work and the other who was taking break. All of them said the same thing- there had been some comings and goings as alwayys, but none of the men were certain they'd seen Freawyn; no one in the places where she might have gone to seek supplies for travel had news of her either. The morning wore away without any luck in the search.\
Feeling disturbed, he suddenly remembered Baldir's sister, who was a friend of Freawyn's. Maybe she had heard something... wouldn't Frea had let her friend know before she left, so she wouldn't worry? He would no doubt be able to find her at Baldir's... he was glad the other man wouldn't be there (or shouldn't be).
"Would you like me to show you to Berelach's?" he asked Idrenion. They were standing outside a small bakery, having a mug of tea (Though Del thought that their tea must be a far cry from whatever splendid brew was made by elves). He knew that if he took his guest with him, news of his being here might reach Baldir... and, an elf in Emyn Arnen was strange enough, but with what was happening...
They made their way to Berelach's house. Saelon was no doubt hard at work and so they didn't stop to speak to him, not wanting to keep him from getting his tasks done for the day. At the admiral's home they stopped, and Del knocked... no answer. He traded a concerned look with his comrade, and knocked again, more loudly.
It made sense when he heard some shuffling footsteps, and then the door opened to reveal Berelach sleep-mussed and half-dressed. Knowing how tired and stressed he'd been, it was no surprise that he'd slept in so late.
"Morning, Berelach," Delagost greeted, "Or, afternoon, rather. Are you alright?"
After a bit of talk (and sharing wincingly that he'd found nothing out yet) Delagost bade them both farewell and headed for Baldir's, where he would find Cenewith.
Swallowing a bit nervously- for, even if it was 'business', he could be rather shy around pretty ladies- he raised his hand and knocked on the door. It wasn't Cenewith who answered but an older lady, and Delagost greeted her with a smile and a slight bow.
"Good afternoon, miss," he said, "Is Cenewith in? I'd like to ask her something."
"That she is," the woman said, "Won't you come in? We were just about to have tea."
He also wasn't sure it would be wise to take tea in the house of Baldir, but he needed to speak to Cenewith.... so, he accepted a bt nervously and found himself inside, standing in the hallway as Cen's aunt went to fetch her. He attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of his clothing and looked at his hands, making sure they were clean. When she appeared he gave her a smile... a genuine smile, for she *was* lovely... and bowed in greeting like he'd always been taught to do.
"I hope you're well, lady?" he said, but before he could say anything else her aunt ushered them into the kitchen, and Delagost found himself sitting with a cup of tea and some cakes before him. They smelled wonderful and the house was cozy ... and he found himself relaxing, and smiling at Cen again. There was no way this pretty young thing could be involved in what Baldir was involved in... the look in her eyes was far too kind. Still, it would be wise to get to know her... she may know something about realizing what it means, anyway...
"You have a lovely home," he offered, a little shy and not sure what to say... feeling silly for commenting on the house, he hurriedly sipped the tea, and promptly burned his lips. As he jerked the mug away he sloshed more of the hot tea into his lap, and bit his tongue as he (much more slowly) sat the cup down and took a napkin to clean up the mess.
"Forgive me," he'd said, quite certain that he was coming across as a bumbling fool... and, deciding he'd best get on with it, "Excuse me, Cenewith... I'm looking for any news of Freawyn- she seems to have gone missing, and her uncle is very worried about her. I've been all about the village, but no word of her have I found. Perhaps she spoke to you before she left...?"
[Edited on 12/4/2008 by dreamdancer]
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: April 14, 2008 07:07
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Saelon watched as the three weary looking travelers walked towards him, somewhat in awe of the one who stood out among them. He had never met an elf but he knew that this was one of those ancient beings and his mind raced as he wondered where and how in the Valar’s name Berelach and Delagost had encountered him. When they reached his side, Delagost introduced the stranger to him.
"Saelon," Del said with a smile, "Greetings again. This is Idhrenion of Rivendell.. we met when he came to Minas Tirith to speak to our mutual friend there. He has some information very relevant to our business..."
“Our business?” Saelon repeated before realizing what Delagost must be referring to. “Oh, I understand,” he said, looking quickly over his shoulder to see if Duilin was near by. Reaching out his hand to shake the hand of the elf, he said, “Welcome to Emyn Arnen, my good sir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He had no idea how one greeted an elf but he hurriedly withdrew his hand, reddening slightly in embarrassment, when Idhrenion bowed gracefully in response to his words.
“And I suppose I have much to share with you, sir,” he said, though he was aware of the expression on Berelach’s face and was not surprised as Berelach impatiently interrupted the exchange.
“Yes,” Berelach broke in, “But I need to get home - we can talk there, can‘t we? Saelon, how was Freawyn when you checked on her? Are you though with your work?”
Once again, discomfiture filled Saelon’s heart and he avoided Berelach’s queries for a moment by calling to his father. “Father, Berelach and Delagost have returned from Minas Tirith. I will be joining them for dinner so please do tell Mother I will not be home. I will see you later.” His father called something from deep within the forge and although Saelon could not hear what it was, he nodded towards the three waiting, saying, “Berelach, walk your horses and we will take the path along the river.”
As they walked along, Saelon told Berelach about what had transpired the morning before, advising his friend that a note on the table awaited him. He wanted in some way to apologize though he was not responsible for Frea’s disappearance, any more than he had been responsible for Borlas’s, though he felt badly about both of them.
When they reached the lower gateway, Berelach led them to the house, opening the door and calling out for Frea. When there was no response, he hurried to where the note had been left. Saelon, with Delagost at his side, and Idhrenion just behind them so that Saelon did not see the elf’s eyes close in contemplation, watched as Berelach opened the note, then watched as he fell into the nearest chair.
“Freawyn writes that our talk the other night made her think of something she’d remembered overhearing at the Boar. She - she says she thinks she knows were father is, and has gone to look for him!” he went on, and lifted a ‘haunted-looking’ gaze to the others. “She doesn’t say where she went!”
“That is indeed unfortunate,” Idhrenion quietly commented, thinking this second disappearance did not ‘help’ matters in the least, and glanced at Delagost and Saelon.
Saelon shook his head, feeling Berelach’s despair within his own heart, though he lowered his head at the elf’s softly spoken words. “Why didn’t she come to me first?” he asked of no one in particular. “Why would she go off on her own like this? Is there no indication where she might have headed, Berel?” Almost simultaneously, Delagost asked, “"Where do you think she went?"
Though they discussed the possibilities for a while, none of the men had the slightest idea where Berel’s niece might have taken herself, though all those gathered in the quiet house had great concern for her welfare. It was finally agreed that even if they were to set out to search for her, it should wait until morning, as the three riders had already been on the road and awake far too long already.
Towards the end of this discussion, Saelon had heard Delagost mention that "Idhrenion has some disturbing things to tell you, Sael," and Saelon turned to Idhrenion expectantly. When the elf had shared with him that which he had already discussed with Eldarion, Berel and Del, Saelon eyes were wide, his jaw dropped. So many years ago the coming evil had been foreseen, Saelon thought in awe. Stuttering while he regained his composure, yet did he fill Idhrenion in on his own activities, including the fact that he was playing with fire pretending to be one of Baldir’s followers.
“I know that Baldir had possession of the Ithil stone, as he was only too pleased to share it with us at our last meeting. He used three young men to find it. I sincerely doubt they have any idea what it is that they found but I certainly knew. What I don’t know is what he has done with it. I can’t believe, no matter how strong his leadership of this group, that he knows himself how to use it, nor would he have the nerve to try. It must have gone to someone else...and it is this person I would like to know more about. Have you any idea, Idhrenion, who it might be or where we might find him?” he asked, though not really expecting the elf to know any more than he did.
After many cups of tea but as yet no food, the hour had grown late indeed. Saelon agreed with Delagost when the latter insisted that there was nothing to be done to find Freawyn this night, and that Berelach should get some sleep. “Yes, Berel, we will begin first thing in the morning to search further for your niece.”
"I'll look around for news of her myself in the morning," Del promised, "Someone should have seen her before she left."
“Perhaps you could ask Cenewith, Del. I know that Baldir has returned to Minas Tirith already so you will find her alone,” Saelon suggested, a brief memory of the fear in her eyes when he had let it be known to Baldir that they had met before. He wondered why but then let it go as he turned to Idhrenion instead.
He asked, “Have you someplace to stay tonight? You are welcome to stay with me unless you would prefer for us to get you a room at the Wild Boar.”
"Where will you be staying, Idhrenion?" Delagost asked.
A shared glance and smile told Saelon that Delagost had apparently already offered the elf quarters and when it was agreed Idhrenion would spend the night with the Citadel guard and his family, they made ready to leave. “Worry not too much, Berel. Freawyn is a level-headed girl. I’m sure she will take care of herself. I wouldn’t be surprised if she suddenly reappeared on her own as quickly as she left,” he offered hopefully, knowing how distraught his childhood friend was.
The three left, Saelon walking with Delagost and Idhrenion along the pathway. He had been bracing himself for sometime to say what was on his mind and finally just blurted it out. “Idhrenion, um...I...er....don’t know how you might feel about this but...uh...perhaps you could find some other....um....attire. You will stand out here like a peacock and I think that maybe that is not the wisest thing, given the undercurrents that abide in our small village.” He was grateful for the darkness for he knew his cheeks were as red as two autumn apples at his effrontery. He was relieved when the path split and the other two went their separate way.
Delagost’s final grasp of his shoulder and his comment about oversleeping amused him, however. “As if I would dare. You know my father. Were I to even think about oversleeping, I’d find myself pulled bodily from my bed,” he chuckled. “But I doubt I shall sleep well in any case. There is much to think about....too much,” he muttered, glancing quickly at Idhrenion and Delagost. “Good eve to both of you and if we don’t meet before, we will surely see each other at the Wild Boar tomorrow night.” Bowing slightly as Idhrenion had done when they met, he turned swiftly and made his way home.
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Cenewith and her aunt Melarin were both busy in the kitchen, packing meals in baskets for Cen to carry in her cart to the poor of the village. Melarin had just put a kettle on for tea before her niece left, when there was a firm knock at the door. Aunt Melarin waved to Cenewith to continue and walked to the front of the house to answer the knock. When she opened the door, she found herself facing a young man with soft blue eyes, light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard who greeted her with a slight smile and a small bow.
"Good afternoon, miss," he said, "Is Cenewith in? I'd like to ask her something."
"That she is," the woman said, "Won't you come in? We were just about to have tea."
Leaving him standing in the hallway, she hurried to the kitchen. “Cenewith, there is a young man here to see you,” she said with a mischievous smile on her face. “I’m sure he could join us for tea if you’ll go and see who it is.” Melarin knew the tight rein that her nephew kept on his younger sister but Melarin often felt it was much too tight. The child spent too much time on her own or tending to the poor. Besides, the aunt was a matchmaker at heart....and this young man looked perfectly acceptable to her.
Cenewith went into the hallway and her footsteps hesitated when she saw it was Delagost. She had met him only once...the night she had been searching for Baldir. But she had seen him often about the village, usually accompanied by his young sister and a big dog, and though she had never stared at him, she had frequently watched him from the corner of her eye. She not only thought he was quite handsome but was charmed by the relationship he had with his sister. And also envious. Would that Baldir could be as kind and warm all the time with her. She brushed such thoughts from her mind, however, and said, “Good morning, Delagost. What can I do for you?”
Before he could say more than a hope for her well being, Aunt Melarin appeared to usher them both into the kitchen, telling them to ‘sit, sit’ as she poured the tea. Cenewith smiled slightly at the man across the table from her, though her hand was shaking as she lifted her cup. Her courage grew, however, when she noticed he was even more nervous than she.
"You have a lovely home," he offered, a little shy and not sure what to say... feeling silly for commenting on the house, he hurriedly sipped the tea, and promptly burned his lips. As he jerked the mug away he sloshed more of the hot tea into his lap, and bit his tongue as he (much more slowly) sat the cup down and took a napkin to clean up the mess.
As she handed him a towel, she was about to ask him why he had come when he spoke suddenly.
"Forgive me," he'd said, quite certain that he was coming across as a bumbling fool... and, deciding he'd best get on with it, "Excuse me, Cenewith... I'm looking for any news of Freawyn- she seems to have gone missing, and her uncle is very worried about her. I've been all about the village, but no word of her have I found. Perhaps she spoke to you before she left...?"
“Freawyn? Missing? What do you mean missing? I saw her only two days ago, the day you and Borlas’s son left ....” she clapped her hand over her mouth. How embarrassing to admit that she was aware of his comings and goings. She lowered her eyes as her cheeks turned a very distinctive pink under her tan skin.
She continued on with, “I met her as I was heading out for Glourin’s farm in my pony cart to deliver some...a basket...some homemade jam.” Modest as she was, she didn’t want to make anything of the many meals she had brought to the poor in the area. “I met her along the path that leads to the road to Rohan. She was carrying a small pack but she seemed fine, not in any sort of worried state or anything. In fact, she seemed rather excited about something.” Lifting her golden and very troubled eyes, she asked, “Has she not returned yet? Did she leave no word as to where she was going?”
Without wishing to be too forward, she added, “I am about to leave to deliver some baskets. I can watch for her and perhaps I can send a message to you if I see any sign of her...or you could come by later this afternoon....” She stopped in mid-sentence as she caught the twinkle and the smirk on her aunt’s face and once again found herself blushing. She stood abruptly, holding out her hand to Delagost, though she could not meet his eyes. “Thank you for sharing tea with us but I really must go now.”
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Baldir made his way swiftly down the through the levels of the great white city to the stables on the lowest level. Here he ordered a horse saddled and he mounted it quickly, riding toward the great gate of the city, arriving just before it was sealed for the night. “Open a way for me. I have business outside the city.” His status as a Captain of the Citadel Guards allowed him the right to exit without question, and he quickly made his way out onto the fields of Pelannor. Turning northward, he followed the wall of the city as it curved north, then northwest towards the mountains. An hour’s riding brought him to a small copse of trees at the base of the mountain, and leaving his horse hobbled at it’s edge, he strode quickly into the deep shadows beneath the trees.
His footsteps slowed as he neared a clearing with a small fire burning. On the other side of the fire sat the darkly cloaked figure he had come to meet. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the clearing and squatted by the fire, looking across at the man on the far side. His cloak was so deep that all Baldir could see was the flames flickering in hidden eyes.
“You sent word by Fenemar you wished to see me? I am on duty for the next two months and cannot get free like this often,” he said with annoyance in his voice, before it occurred to him to whom he was speaking. Clearing his throat, and with a bit more respect, he asked, “What can I do for you, m’lord?”
He wondered while he waited for the answer how the dark one knew of his alliance with Fenemar. He frequently used the trader to take care of various tasks for him but they were seldom even seen together. Baldir always met him in dark alleys and smoky taverns and then only long enough to give the trader his orders or to pay him for a task completed. But then, the dark cloaked one seemed to know everyone’s deepest thoughts, which often brought a frisson of fear to Baldir.
When he listened to the words of the dark one, however, he wished he hadn’t asked. “You want me to do what? Search Borlas’s house? How do you expect me to do that? Admiral Berelach is home on leave and he’s added his niece to the household as well. There are too many people around for me to sneak in without being caught.” He bit his lip with uncertainty, knowing it was ill advised to deny the dark one anything but still.... “It would have been easier just after Borlas disappeared and........” He stopped for a moment and stared at the cloaked one questioningly. “Did you have something to do with Borlas’s disappearance?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was dark, damp and cold and the man shackled to the wall turned slightly in his broken dozing, only to wince at the pain in his old bones. He had been here for a time uncounted and unknown, stripped to naught but his undergarments and beaten and tortured again and again. He knew not when he had last eaten though it was the thirst that parched his throat. But he had said nothing. He took a certain pride in that fact, as much as he was suffering for his silence. But he knew who his torturer was, knew what he wanted, knew what his plans were. How could he not....he had seen it all before, though it was so long ago.
He wondered where the dark hooded one was. He had been gone for quite some time now and the old man had been laying here ever since. He didn’t even know whether the cloaked man would ever return or whether he would simply leave him here to die. He had heard no sounds other than a slow dripping in the other corner of his prison for many hours....and the sound only teased his thirst. He drifted into a troubled, pained sleep once again until the sound of a scuffling step woke him. He peered into the shadows and fear struck his heart. A tall cloaked figure was standing in the opening to his prison.
The hooded man stepped forward, calling very softly in little more than a whisper, “Borlas?”
[Edited on 15/4/2008 by BerethEdhellen]
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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| Edraitheru_Melannen |
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| RodwenofRohan |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: May 14, 2008 05:03
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Idhrenion had expressed his ‘regret’ at hearing of Freawyn’s disappearance - a true regret, though to Berelach it sounded ‘hollow’.
At his friends urging to rest, and wait to search until morning, he protested. “I *can’t*!” he stated, rejecting their suggestion, whilst knowing they were right. He was tired from the journey to Minas Tirith, and not thinking straight… and had actually only half listened to the elf as he explained to Saelon why he’d come to Emyn Arnen. Knowing he’d only just met his niece, neither could he venture any ideas as to where she might have gone when he and Delagost and Saelon had discussed it.
Dejectedly, he finally bid the others a good night, closing and locking the door behind them.
Setting Freawyn’s note back on the table, he sank into a chair and buried his head into his hands. He felt ‘alone’. - ‘Bereft’, really… his sister (whom he had loved dearly and missed greatly) was dead, his father and (now!) his niece ‘gone’. - What if neither were found?, he thought, and was so weary the Admiral of Gondor’s fleet felt like weeping.
Berelach then thought of his flagship… of standing on the deck with the fresh sea breeze filling the sails and blowing in his face. He missed *that*, too… these past years he’d spent more time asea than on land, and - and everything always seemed ‘better’ with the freedom he felt there.
Yet, Berelach knew he’d not set foot on deck again until he’d learned of his father’s fate - and that of Freawyn. He should send a note back to Osgiliath, informing his captains of an ‘unanticipated’ delay. Resolving (with a sigh), to do so in the morning, the worried young man slowly rose and made his way up to his bedroom - not even bothering to light a candle as he walked through the night-dark hallways.
His sleep was ‘uneasy’… disturbed with dark dreams such that it wasn’t until dawn that he actually fell into an exhausted and deep slumber. In fact, it wasn’t until early afternoon when Delagost and Idhrenion knocked on his door that the Admiral finally woke. Grumbling sleepily as he noted the afternoon sun streaming in through the window, Berelach drew on a pair of trousers and shrugged into a shirt which he didn’t bother to fasten. Shoving his feet into his boots, his brown hair somewhat ‘awry’, the young man shuffled to see what news they might have brought…
"Morning, Berelach," Delagost greeted, "Or, afternoon, rather. Are you alright?"
“I…” and shrugging, Berelach shook his head. How *could* he be ‘all right’ with such concerns weighing on his heart?
Still though, after chatting (and depressed that his new friends had had no luck), “I’ll get us some tea,” the Admiral offered to the elf, but with understanding in his eyes, “I will do so,” Idhrenion replied. “You see to yourself.” With a wan smile, “Thanks,” Berelach replied, and went to finish getting himself dressed.
*******************************
Glancing at Saelon, "Idhrenion has some disturbing things to tell you, Sael," Del said grimly, and the discussion turned to the dark matter at hand for a while. Idhrenion shared with Saelon what he'd already told the other two men, and Saelon shared some information too...
Solemnly, Idhrenion explained himself, and listened keenly to what Saelon had to say. If the hour hadn’t been so late, he’d have asked the man to repeat it several more times, but judged the next day would be soon enough for it. He’d much to ‘absorb’ still… much to sift through his mind, and a night’s deliberations would not be unwelcome.
The elf remained silent whilst Delagost and Saelon advised Berelach to seek rest… though well he could see the man needed it.
He asked, “Have you someplace to stay tonight? You are welcome to stay with me unless you would prefer for us to get you a room at the Wild Boar.”
With a polite bow at Saelon’s offer, “I thank you,” he replied, “But Delagost has made an invitation already, which I have accepted.”
With that, he walked with the Citadel guard off through the town. That Delagost was mostly silent ‘suited’ the ellon quite well, though his eyes continued to take note of everything about Emyn Arnen that he could. When they reached the guard’s home, Ren thought it a quite pleasant dwelling, and commented as such to his Human companion.
As they entered Delagost found his family seated around the supper table. Smiling tiredly at them, he greeted them all and introduced Idhrenion (as a friend he'd met in the city), and assured them they'd be sitting down to eat as soon as he'd stabled the horses and cleaned up.
"Do you want a bath?" he asked
Bowing gracefully as he was introduced, Idhrenion hid an inward smile to see Delagost’s young sister staring at him with wide-eyed wonder. He’d never been around Human children, and it was a ‘novel’ thing for the elf. At the offer of a bath, he nodded. “I thank you… yes,” he replied, and bowing again to the man’s family, “I look forward to speaking with you,” Ren added.
He found the hospitality of these humans quite ‘acceptable’, and though he neither ‘rushed’ nor ‘lazed’ to wash and change into fresher clothing, the elf with short, wavy dark hair was back out in the hallway before his young host. He was met (nearly instantly) by Delagost’s young sibling, who shyly *and* enthusiastically introduced herself.
Clean and somewhat refreshed, Delagost returned to the kitchen. He found his mother and father sitting there with his little sister, who was staring at Idhrenion's pointed ears and ageless face without shame and with deep fascination.
"Sister," he said and gave her a teasing grin, "Will you see that the guest room is ready?"
"I already did," she said with a bright smile, "And Idhrenion cleaned up a lot faster than you. Now you need to eat."
His family was all done eating, but they sat there with him and the elf while they ate so that the two wouldn't be dining alone.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be getting ready for bed?" he asked, to which his sister chuckled and pinched his arm, "We've not been able to eat with you for so long, its a treat even to watch you do it."
"Then I must be more conscious of my manners," Del replied with a wink, "What a task to put on the shoulders of a weary soldier!"
He shared a grin with the elf, his mood lightened quite a bit.
Amused (inwardly) by Mirien’s ‘goggle-eyed’ curiosity after his Kind, Idhrenion made polite ‘small talk’ with his hosts. He found the interaction between the humans ’interesting’… particularly that between the siblings. A thing to be remembered pleasantly, he thought… but when Delagost rose to retire, he did as well - thanking the guard’s mother for a fine meal, and headed back to his room.
He’d just lain down (finding the mattress comfortable) when there was a soft knock at the door. With his keen elven-hearing, Ren chuckled inwardly to hear the ‘shuffle’ of small feet, and so went to open it.
And… yes, it was Delagost’s young sister without. She was blushing deeply, and apologizing for disturbing the elf, thrust a set of clothes into his hands - ‘explaining’ (to his further inward diversion) he’d not ‘stick out’ so badly amongst the men of Emyn Arnen.
Though it wasn’t something he’d have cared about (really), Idhrenion had not the heart to refuse the girl’s kind offer, and with a smile and a slight bow, “Le annon aglar, pen dithen,” he replied (I give you glory, little one - i.e. ‘thank you’), and at Mirien’s wide-eyed wonder, he translated his Sindarin words.
And then, Idhrenion commented, “Perhaps, when I have returned to Imladris I will send you a book on my language,“ the ellon offered. “After all, you are ‘blessed’ to have an elven name, Mirien, did you know that?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly, “’Mîr’ means ‘treasure’ in my language,” he explained, and with his hazel eyes ‘twinkling’ briefly, “And I am certain you are just that to your family…”
Bidding the child a good night, then, Idhrenion set the clothes on a chair and composed himself for sleep.
Not needing as much as his hosts, though, the elf was up long before dawn, and spent the time until daybreak writing notes on the occurrences of the day before. What *this* day might bring, he did not presume to imagine, but when he left his room for the morning meal, he was clad in Mirien’s gift…
"I'm going to make some rounds through the village," Del told him, "Check with the farmers on the borders, and see if anyone saw Freawyn leaving . Are you coming with me?"
“I would like that, yes,” Idhrenion replied, and kept his eyes and ears and elven senses ‘alert’ throughout their search.
"Would you like me to show you to Berelach's?" he asked Idhrenion. They were standing outside a small bakery, having a mug of tea
“Yes, thank you,” Ren agreed, and found himself pitying the Gondorian Admiral who dragged himself to the door. But, saying nothing, he listened as Delagost shared their lack of success, and then nodded as the man headed off on his own search.
Offering to fix tea for them both whilst the man finished dressing, Idhrenion whiled away the rest of the afternoon by having Berelach explain just ‘how’ and where he’d found the Osgiliath Stone, and how he’d managed to retrieve it and bring it to Borlas’ house without anyone ‘knowing’ what he had in his possession.
As the sun began setting, though, both Delagost and Saelon arrived, and the four were preparing to head out to the Boar when, suddenly Berelach gasped. “Freawyn!! he cried, rushing forward and - since he barely knew her - had to exert a great deal of control to keep from sweeping his niece into a tight hug when she arrived.
Overwhelming relief then turned to a frantic anger, as the Admiral berated her for sending them all into panic. “You could have at least *said* where you went!” he finished, and fell silent to hear what she had to say.
"But... I found something of value..." She was interrupted as Saelon took a turn to tell her off.
Watching, and listening, Idhrenion finally spoke up - apologetically interrupting Saelon, and though he’d not yet been introduced to Berelach’s niece, “What did you discover, hiril?” he softly inquired.
"I found some names..." she said quietly.
She quietly apologized, and promised to get permission before disappearing again. Then she tried again- "I found some names- some friends of Baldir, who might know something of Grandfather's disappearance-Bergin, Kamerin and Marein- do you know of them? I also found the direction they were traveling- they left at the same time, but I lost the trail... could this help?"
Exchanging a glance with the three men, “For myself, I think it would,” the elf offered, “though how I can not see.”
Berelach, calmer now, reached to grip Freawyn’s shoulder. “Sorry, Freawyn - we were all worried,” he explained, and gave her a wan smile. “By the way - this is Idhrenion from Rivendell. - But, should we talk at the Boar or stay here?” the Admiral asked, not sure if such a ‘public’ place would be a good place to share their thoughts…
[Edited on 15/5/2008 by gwendeth]
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| Halrohir |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: May 18, 2008 05:33
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(NOTE: What follows is a joint post between Berethedhellen and Halrohir - please enjoy!)
Borlas cringed as he heard his name called but he gave it a second thought when he listened as the soft call was made again. This wasn't the Dark One; it was someone else....but whom? Rolling on his side to face the entry way, very carefully to avoid bringing additional pain to his already bruised and beaten body, he asked, "Who be you? What do you want with me?"
The tall man stepped closer, leaning on his staff as he squatted down beside Borlas and threw back his hood. His hair was snow white, his beard long and ragged, his eyes a brilliant blue, his features chiseled with age yet still fair of face. "Borlas, my good man, I am Radagast, and I am relieved to see you are still...alive. Though you are not in as good shape as I would prefer to see," he chuckled. "May I call in a friend to help me see to your wounds?" he asked in a deep, yet gentle voice.
Radagast? Could it be? Borlas thought. He knew of the Maiar from years and years past but had thought (if he had thought about it at all) he had long since returned to Valinor. He was amazed to see the wandering Maiar here before him. His voice caught in his throat as he stuttered, "Y..yes, of c..course. P..please do."
Radagast, patting his shoulder gently, rose to his feet and went to the opening of the cave where Borlas was being held. "Halrohir! Bring your pack and come inside." Borlas watched the opening beyond Radagast's tall frame and noted when a shadow darkened the entrance as someone bent to enter. Radagast brought the new arrival to Borlas's side where he introduced him properly. "Borlas, this is my old friend, Halrohir. Halrohir, this is the gentleman we've come to rescue."
Halrohir stooped slightly to squeeze into the smaller entrance, but as he straightened, his full frame came into view in the dim light of the chamber. Borlas beheld a tall man, cloaked in deep grey, almost brown, boots of sturdy leather beneath the hem of the cloak. A hand brushed back the hood, revealing a face of stern and proud bearing, with eyes of keen grey, and a mouth set in a line as he beheld the injuries done upon him.
Halrohir knelt near Borlas, allowing him to be seen without straining or injuring himself further. A smile creased his face, which changed the demeanor from stern to consoling. When he spoke, his voice was soft, with the rasp of one who has journeyed far in the mists and dust, but the words told Borlas all that was needed, that all was well.
"Suilaid, mellon nin, estannen Halrohir,” * he said. "Allow me to first see how you fare, and then we shall do what needs doing. Permit me, if you will..." Halrohir moved to Borlas's side, his eyes darting all over the prisoner, taking in his condition, and the sustained damage he had endured. His hands briefly touched Borlas upon the forehead and side of the throat, as if in search for answers. After a silent moment, he turned to Radagast.
"Our friend has endured a great deal, but naught which will endanger his life", Halrohir explained. "His right leg and arm will require tending, but most of the other hurts are of the surface, and can be dealt with by cleansing. He may be able to walk soon, but see here, where his arm has been savaged? The injury is deep, though the skin is not broken; the bone is certainly wounded. This is the worst of it. Rest, water, and artful watching will serve - but we can do little of that at the moment. We must move him carefully." He turned to Borlas. "We must get you to your feet, and see if we can get you to move. If not, I will aid you. Once away from here, I can look after you properly."
Borlas watched as the second man joined Radagast at his side. He was astonished to hear words in a language he had not heard since his childhood. He was just able to recall enough to determine it was a form of greeting and he nodded his head in response, wincing at the pain it caused him. He felt the man's gentle touch of his forehead and throat and watched as his eyes seemed to search his body. He noted the exchange of glances between Radagast and the man called Halrohir and listened to Halrohir's words to the Maiar.
Radagast checked the arm Halrohir spoke of, resting his palm on the heavily bruised arm, feeling the heat that raced through the wounded arm. "Ah yes, I feel that of which you speak," he said, as his eyes looked over the other wounds along the length of Borlas's body. "We will give that arm some support, Borlas, before we move you." Turning to glance at Halrohir, "We will do that before we attempt to move him,” he said sternly. Looking back at Borlas, he cautioned, "And we must move you, Borlas. Our time is limited. The Dark One may return at any time. We will take you to a place where we can give you more care as soon as your arm is secured."
Borlas knew that Radagast was right. The Dark One could indeed return at any time but the idea of standing made him cringe. However, he nodded when Halrohir offered to help him to his feet. Radagast took a branch from nearby and with that and some cloth he braced the arm, Borlas trying not to whimper as the pain shot through his arm all the way to his shoulder. Then the two, Radagast and Halrohir, began to lift him to his feet. He cried out as he reached his feet but with the help of the pair, he found his footing.
"I am ready. If you can support me, I think I can move," he whispered through his agony, though he was wondering how far he would have to walk. Even with help, he knew he could not get far.
The three men moved slowly, with as much haste as Borlas could withstand. Halrohir noticed his halting movement, and how much support Borlas needed; it would be slow going, and he must remain alert for any encounter. Supporting Borlas, Halrohir tried to bear the greater weight and save the elder-seeming wizard the burden, smiling when he reminded himself of what the wizard could truly do, when need demanded. Thankfully for Borlas’ sake, the escape route was smooth and shorter than it seemed. Halrohir guided the group to an exit, concealed behind timbers which required only a little shifting to create a path. Once past this, free air struck their faces and they all breathed deeply of open, flowing wind beneath sheltering trees and lengthening shadows; dusk was beginning to envelop the place where Borlas lay imprisoned.
Halrohir spoke low and urgently, "There, beyond that tree, are the horses; yours, my good lord, a smaller and easy-tempered steed for our friend, and my own Morindal. The ride will ease your legs, I deem, Borlas; and I shall bind your arm more firmly, so as not to jar it on our route. There are also goods for your comfort in the saddlebag of your mount; a cloak, and a full flask of water. Think not of saving it, for we have plenty and to spare. This will at least see us upon the first stage of our flight."
Through bleary eyes, Borlas saw the three horses picketed in a clearing and though he heard Halrohir's words that the ride would 'ease his legs', he had his doubts. His body ached from head to foot and he had no idea how long the ride would take. He asked that very question. "How far must we travel? I'm not certain I can even sit upon a horse though I will most assuredly try. Anything to leave this place."
When Radagast and Halrohir between them lifted Borlas to the small horse, Radagast said something unexpected. "I will leave Halrohir to tell you the answer to that question, Borlas. Meanwhile I must leave you both. I have something I must attend to of great importance. Borlas, you will be safe with Halrohir and I will see to it that your family knows you are so, this I promise you. However, you must not be seen yet for some time to come. I need not explain the reasons for that as I'm sure you know only too well. Heal well, rest and I will return as soon as possible." Turning to Halrohir, he continued, "My old friend, take care of him. You are the only one I would trust with this task." Clapping Halrohir on his shoulder, Radagast mounted his steed, and waving slightly, he rode off into the dying day.
Halrohir watched as Radagast rode off, and smiled to himself. Seeing the look Borlas gave him, he explained, "It reminds me of the stories I know, of another wizard of legend: the Lord Mithrandir. This is how it must have seemed to those of the last age, when the Wizards involved themselves in the affairs and destiny of Gondor. Come, we ride north and west, towards the River, where I found a good camp on my journey south; it is not far, and I can conceal it from prying eyes and hunting noses. There you shall rest in comfort, and I shall watch as you sleep. And I daresay, your thirst has returned, for I see your water skin is already empty! Here," he said, handing Borlas his own skin, "your need is greater. And I hope also to see to your thirst for news, and somewhat of me. I deem we shall be riding together, for this and many more days in the time ahead."
* Sindarin: {Greetings, my friend, call me Halrohir!}
[Edited on 6/26/2008 by Halrohir]
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: May 27, 2008 03:41
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(As usual if anything needs changing, just let me know ...)
Delagost had been seeking all over the village for news of Freawyn, saying that her uncle was worried that she'd gone off- but no news had he found, and so he had come at last to the home of the fair Cenewith, who he knew to be the young woman's friend. After being invited in for tea and properly embarrassing himself by spilling it in his lap, the guard finally shared his purpose with Cenewith, asking if she had seen or heard anything.
“Freawyn? Missing? What do you mean missing? I saw her only two days ago, the day you and Borlas’s son left ....” she clapped her hand over her mouth. How embarrassing to admit that she was aware of his comings and goings. She lowered her eyes as her cheeks turned a very distinctive pink under her tan skin.
Delagost couldn't help smiling secretly at the blush that colored her cheeks- she was really quite charming when she blushed, he thought. Since they had hoped not to be noted when they left he was surprised that Cen had noticed their departure... but, she was speaking once again.
She continued on with, “I met her as I was heading out for Glourin’s farm in my pony cart to deliver some...a basket...some homemade jam.” Modest as she was, she didn’t want to make anything of the many meals she had brought to the poor in the area. “I met her along the path that leads to the road to Rohan. She was carrying a small pack but she seemed fine, not in any sort of worried state or anything. In fact, she seemed rather excited about something.” Lifting her golden and very troubled eyes, she asked, “Has she not returned yet? Did she leave no word as to where she was going?”
Delagost had seen Cenewith carrying her baskets around the village and knew that she was a kind woman, with a giving heart. Modest about it she was, but some spoke of her generosity- plus, her very nature was gentle, and polite, and he could tell that she was worried now about Freawyn. The young man regretted bringing the worry to her- it somehow bothered his heart to see her eyes troubled as they now were.
"No, lady," he said, "She left only word that she was leaving, but not of where she was going or when she would be back."
He couldn't add, of course, that they were worried she was in danger because she might possibly be meddling in the affairs of dangerous men- one of which was Cenewith's brother. He was more sure than ever now that this lovely lady had no part in her brother's dealings- she was simply too gentle.
Without wishing to be too forward, she added, “I am about to leave to deliver some baskets. I can watch for her and perhaps I can send a message to you if I see any sign of her...or you could come by later this afternoon....” She stopped in mid-sentence as she caught the twinkle and the smirk on her aunt’s face and once again found herself blushing. She stood abruptly, holding out her hand to Delagost, though she could not meet his eyes. “Thank you for sharing tea with us but I really must go now.”
Delagost was surprised by the suddenness of her decision to leave. Blushing and feeling that he'd kept her from her tasks, "Of course, lady," he said and stood as well, taking her hand in his and bowing slightly in farewell. "If I have any news of Freawyn I'll be sure to let you know, too... "
Standing upright he smiled at Cenewith's aunt, "Thank you for the tea," he said, inwardly musing that his britches had soaked up more of it than he'd been able to drink, but he was thankful nonetheless. Nodding at Cen, "Take care, Cenewith," he said, "I hope the rest of your day is pleasant."
Bidding farewell to them both he was shown to the door by her aunt, and he headed slowly back to Berelach's. He had pondered telling Cen to send his regards to her brother, just to be polite, but he'd decided against it quickly. Baldir wasn't fond of him anyway, he knew, and if he learned that Delagost had been at his house, having tea with his sister...?
And, his sister. She was soft spoken, and sweet, and quite lovely... but, the guard shook himself and looked ahead. He would have to tell Berelach more disappointing news... though, Freawyn had been seen, on the path to Rohan. Perhaps she was headed there, then... if nothing else could be found, that would at least give them a direction in which to look. Perhaps they could track her. He wasn't much of a tracker himself- his duties were in stone streets, where little marks were left behind... though Delagost had often dreamed of learning the skills of rangers, like Lord Eldarion's father had been...
The young man's mind was running in adventures far away, and grim realization that such adventures might not be so far away for himself, when he arrived back at Berelach's to find Saelon there already. Sighing, he admitted to the admiral that he'd found nothing solid- save for a direction in which his friend's niece had gone.
"It's possible that she went toward Rohan," Delagost said, "In which case, we could start looking there... but, there are other ways she might have taken, so I don't know..."
The four of them were preparing to head to the Boar, to have a drink (which they all needed) and to see what they could hear, as well as showing their elven guest a bit more of their home, when suddenly the one who they'd all been worried about arrived.
“Freawyn!! he cried, rushing forward and - since he barely knew her - had to exert a great deal of control to keep from sweeping his niece into a tight hug when she arrived.
Overwhelming relief then turned to a frantic anger, as the Admiral berated her for sending them all into panic. “You could have at least *said* where you went!” he finished, and fell silent to hear what she had to say.
"But... I found something of value..." She was interrupted as Saelon took a turn to tell her off.
Watching, and listening, Idhrenion finally spoke up - apologetically interrupting Saelon, and though he’d not yet been introduced to Berelach’s niece, “What did you discover, hiril?” he softly inquired.
"I found some names..." she said quietly.
She quietly apologized, and promised to get permission before disappearing again. Then she tried again- "I found some names- some friends of Baldir, who might know something of Grandfather's disappearance-Bergin, Kamerin and Marein- do you know of them? I also found the direction they were traveling- they left at the same time, but I lost the trail... could this help?"
Exchanging a glance with the three men, “For myself, I think it would,” the elf offered, “though how I can not see.”
Berelach, calmer now, reached to grip Freawyn’s shoulder. “Sorry, Freawyn - we were all worried,” he explained, and gave her a wan smile. “By the way - this is Idhrenion from Rivendell. - But, should we talk at the Boar or stay here?” the Admiral asked, not sure if such a ‘public’ place would be a good place to share their thoughts…
Delagost had remained quiet, though he was annoyed with Freawyn for running off the way she had. If she had run in with those friends of Baldir's, she might have been hurt, or might have unintentionally alerted them to the doings of himself and his friends. It was becoming more and more obvious that they were all involved in some very dangerous business. He didn't want any innocents to be hurt.
"I vote that we stay here," he said, and walked over to peek out the window, "It's normal for you and I, Saelon, and even Berelach's presence wouldn't be out of the ordinary, but someone might take an interest if they notice Idhrenion, and with the things we need to talk about we shouldn't risk having unfriendly ears listening."
Solemnly, "There's no telling who is a friend and who's an enemy, I fear," he went on, turning back to them, "Today while I was out looking for Freawyn's whereabouts," he glanced at the woman, knowing she felt bad for having worried them all, "There seemed to be an unease in the air all around. Maybe I imagined it, but I don't like it. And some folk might have noticed me busying around, though I was trying not to stick out."
Presently they decided to remain where they were for the time being, and after brewing tea and preparing something of a meal, they sat down to discuss what Freawyn had learned, and all they knew that might help them to find Borlas. They also spoke of keeping an eye on the three who Freawyn had named- but discreetly, as they couldn't afford to be noticed.
Delagost couldn't help the feeling that something was going to happen soon, and he was anxious. Also, he found himself thinking that he would need to let Cenewith know tomorrow that Freawyn was back safely... and still, he wanted to see if he could learn anything of Baldir's doings from her. Even if she be innocent, she might know something important... even if she didn't realize it was so.
At the end of the evening Delagost bade his friends a solemn goodnight, and bade them all to take care- especially Saelon, who he was often concerned about (by being a double agent he put himself in more danger than any of them). Idhrenion returned with him to his own home, where his family had gone to bed- save for Mirian, of course, who had wanted to bid their elven guest a goodnight.
Delagost shared a smile with his friend, hoping he wasn't pestered by her... for himself, he adored her curious nature.
"Sleep well," be bade Ren, and went for his own bed... though it was long before he was able to rest.
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| dreamdancer |
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| Edraitheru_Melannen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: June 19, 2008 01:57
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{{joint post with dd, ber and myself}}
Eyes glimmered in the shadowy recesses of the cloak hood drawn up over the black figure's face. He surveyed the forest clearing in the light of the sinking sun. The sky, where visible, is tinted a deep orange-red. He smiles as he thinks about skies covered in endless shadow. Looking closely, he sees a figure far off in the distance, but
obviously moving towards where he is waiting.
He has been waiting for this. Baldir should have met him days ago. Nevertheless, he is too important to the plans to dispose of. He will be of much use yet and if he has succeeded in his mission, all his lateness may be forgiven. The Dark One smiles grimly under the hood. He must have the Osgiliath Stone. He could feel that it was there. If
only there had been more time… But this Baldir, he will find it eventually, he must. His prisoner had been stolen from him.
The Dark One's eyes swept the clearing carefully to make sure he was not being watched. Somehow, someone had found the cave he had been hiding in. It must have been one of his enemies. None of those who served him would have even thought of stealing what was concealed in that cave. He would be of no use to any of them. He would have to
discover who this new enemy was. Baldir was burdened enough, but there was no one else trustworthy enough yet to reveal this information to.
Turning to his side, the Dark One saw two figures entering the clearing. He immediately prepared himself. He had been expecting only Baldir, so who was this other man with him?! The Dark One, as always, waited for Baldir to speak first and explain himself.
On the following afternoon, Baldir put his second in command in charge, claiming a situation away from the Citadel that needed tending. Making his way to the main gate of Minas Tirith, he saw Falithor waiting with the two horses Baldir had ordered him to have ready. With merely a nod at the sailor, Baldir mounted and with Falithor riding beside him, he made his way into the open plains, galloping towards the deep forests north of the city.
After several hours, riding in silence throughout, he held up his hand, slowing the pair to a walk. When he reached the place he was searching for, he ordered Falithor to dismount and they picketed the horses before walking further into the woods.
Baldir was the first to spy the Dark One, almost invisible in the darkening evening surrounding him. As he approached, warily as always when facing the Dark One, his arm stretched across the sailor's chest to slow Falothir's pace.
"My Lord, I bring you someone who has seen the Osgilliath stone. I believe he should tell you his story himself," he said, turning to the sailor. "Falithor, now is your chance to persuade someone who can offer you the rewards you so search for ... that is, if you are worthy of them."
It was strange business he was getting himself involved in, Falithor had felt as he'd readied the horses at Baldir's orders... but, the promise of power and wealth such as he'd dreamed for was too great. When the Guard had come they'd set off without a word. For himself, the sailor wasn't much of a rider- but he bit his tongue and didn't complain. Finally they dismounted and began to walk. As much as it chafed at his ego to have this guard ordering him about, he'd always known that one had to bow to the right people to get where one desired to be- and he wondered who the person was that he was being taken to meet. He'd thought long about it as he'd waited- who had such power, to offer such things? A great power indeed, he supposed... allying himself with such a power would have to bring great things to him.
Now, looking at the One to whom they'd come to speak, Falithor knew that he'd put himself into something 'big', and that no matter what came of this meeting, he wasn't likely to be able to turn aside. Nodding slowly at Baldir's words, "My lord," he said to the Dark One, bowing slightly, "I am Falithor of Gondor, sailor and son of the Sea.... when I was out on the ship of the Admiral Berelach we found something strange, and the captain locked it away before anyone could properly make out what it was...."
He went on to tell the story, though now with none of the bragging of his tale to the tavern wench, of the finding of the stone, and of his sneaking into the captain's cabin to pick the lock and see it for himself. This time he didn't leave out what it had looked like, or what had happened when he'd touched it.... and when he finished his words he fell silent, looking at the Dark One. A feeling of terrible menace came from the dark figure and the sailor felt as though he might wither under that gaze, but he stood firm.
The Dark One listened intently to the tale the sailor had to tell. This one might be useful to him in the future. He obviously had a distrust for his captain or he would not have picked the lock. This flaw could be taken advantage of and used to twist the sailor to the Dark One's evil ways. He nodded slowly as the sailor finished up.
"I may have use for you in the future," he told the sailor. "I will send for you when needed. Meanwhile keep your eyes and ears open and report anything interesting you might hear to Baldir and realize that feeding us false information could prove… fatal."
The Dark One's eyes glittered as he anticipated the new influx of information. This would be helpful, having an ear aboard Admiral Berelach's ship, a pool of information that had previously been closed to him. Now, he had confirmation that Berelach had indeed found the Osgiliath stone. He had been so close to extracting the whereabouts of the stone from the old man, Borlas, but someone had taken him. It was easy enough with this new information to realize that the stone must be in Borlas' house. He would have to speak more on this with Baldir.
After his long pause for thought, the Dark One resumed his conversation with the sailor. "You may leave now," he said. "Go wait by your horses. Baldir will return to you shortly."
He motioned for the sailor to leave.
Turning back to Baldir, the Dark One spoke again, "We have much to discuss, you and I. Someone has meddled in my affairs. You must keep your eyes and ears open. I will require any news of the whereabouts of the man Borlas or of any new strangers showing interest in the palantiri. You are to inform me of anyone new to Emyn Arnen at all, especially those who do not belong."
Pausing for a second, the Dark One went on, "Have you discovered the location of the Osgiliath Stone yet? I am sure it must be in that house. Take the necessary men and bring that stone to me. Avoid bloodshed if possible, it is best we not alert the people to my
presence yet. And, as always, continue recruiting those who can be swayed to my cause."
Baldir had listened quietly to Falithor's tale about the finding of the Osgiliath stone and Falithor's breaking and entering the Admiral's cabin for a better look. He eyed the sailor with some respect. It took a certain boldness to invade the privacy of the Admiral of the Fleet.
When the sailor finished, he was told to report anything unusual to Baldir and then summarily dismissed by the Dark One. Baldir watched as the sailor wandered off towards where the horses were awaiting them then, at the sound of the Dark One's voice, turned back to him. 'Someone has meddled in my affairs' was the first thing that registered in the Citadel Captain's mind. He paid closer attention to the hooded one, wondering who would dare to interfere with the affairs of someone so dangerous. When the Dark One continued by asking for any information about the whereabouts of Borlas, Baldir's eyes opened wider in surprise. Borlas had escaped? Or been taken by someone else? His mind drifted over all the possibilities, and the implications behind each of those thoughts.
His focus was brought back abruptly when the Dark One once again demanded he recover the Osgiliath stone. His mouth opened to object and just as quickly closed. One didn't deny the Dark One, not if one expected to survive. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head, saying only, "I will work on it as soon as the three who left for Mordor have returned. They are the only ones I can trust with this task. With regard to recruiting, I will be holding another meeting in the woods beyond Emyn Arnen soon. These gatherings have grown in numbers each time. I expect even more in the upcoming one." Lifting his eyes, he continued. "There is one who stands out in my mind for further tasks...Saelon, the son of the blacksmith. I will keep you informed."
As he rode away, leaving the Dark One behind, his mind was too deep in thought to waste time speaking to Falithor, nor to notice the sailor's difficulty in hanging on to his saddle, though it would have amused him at any other time.
The Dark One watched as the two figures disappeared into the dusk. He wondered as to this Saelon. He must be of some greater use or Baldir surely would not have suggested him as suitable for greater tasks.
He began to ponder how to keep his presence a secret from the general populace. The more people who joined his ranks, the harder it would be to contain the secret, but he must. Timing is everything.
For now, more planning and more waiting. Eventually the master plan would come to fruition.
[Edited on 20/6/2008 by Edraitheru_Melannen]
[Edited on 20/6/2008 by Edraitheru_Melannen]
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: June 23, 2008 04:22
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Saelon had arrived at the lower gate at the same time as Delagost and they walked up the path to Borlas’s house side by side, Delagost filling Saelon in on his day’s investigations.
“So you found no trace of her other than that she was last seen on the road to Rohan?? And you got this information from Cenewith, Baldir’s sister? Do you trust her?” Saelon asked. “She is Baldir’s sister....she could be saying what Baldir wishes her to say,” he commented, knowing the power of the Citadel Guard’s words. Could he not have bid his sister to give that information to anyone who might ask about Freawyn? Was it possible that Baldir himself had taken both Borlas and Frea for reasons of his own?
But Delagost seemed completely assured that Cenewith was telling the truth, and Saelon let it be for the moment. They arrived at the door where Saelon knocked, not surprised to find both Berelach and the elf, Idhrenion, ready to leave at once for the Wild Boar. As they gathered on the deep porch, suddenly Berelach cried out, “Freawyn!” As he ran from the porch, Saelon turned to see the missing young woman striding up the path towards her uncle. He listened as Berelach’s voice cracked with emotion as he berated his niece though the relief he felt was also present.
When he finished with, “You could have at least *said* where you went!”, Saelon barely heard Frea’s next words...."But... I found something of value..." ....before stepping forward to scold her himself. “I was here early the morning you left. Very early! You could have waited for me as you knew I was going to drop by. I have been overwhelmed with guilt ever since as your uncle left you in my care...and I failed his trust.” He got no further before Idhrenion stepped forward, placing his hand on Saelon’s shoulder and apologetically interrupting.
“What did you discover, hiril?” he softly inquired.
At Idhrenion’s quiet question, Saelon felt a moment of embarrassment for harassing Frea. After all, she was home safely and further had only caused this worry for all of them in a genuine effort to help. He stepped back and listened to the young woman’s response.
She quietly apologized, and promised to get permission before disappearing again. Then she tried again- "I found some names- some friends of Baldir, who might know something of Grandfather's disappearance-Bergin, Kamerin and Marein- do you know of them? I also found the direction they were traveling- they left at the same time, but I lost the trail... could this help?"
Saelon’s eyes opened wide then narrowed. The three young men who had delivered the seeing stone to Baldir...what mischief were they up to now? Yet he somehow doubted they would have had anything to do with the disappearance of Borlas. They were nothing but Baldir’s errand boys and hardly experienced or bright enough to carry out such a complicated mission. But Baldir had not told the men at the meeting all that the young boys had found. Could it have been something useful to the Dark One?
Although Idhrenion could not see how this might matter to any of them, Saelon shared his thoughts with the rest of his friends, ending with, “If anything, Baldir would have sent them back to Mordor to investigate further the curiosities they encountered on their last trip. It would seem they found something of great interest to the Dark One.”
Turning to look at Frea, he added, “I’m sorry I was so short with you but we were extremely concerned for your welfare. But your findings have confirmed that whoever Baldir is reporting to has requested the use of these boys again.” Gazing at all, he said, “I wonder what it was they saw that was so intriguing. Perhaps we should attempt to find the answer to that when they return. It may help us to determine what is behind the shadows that begin to fill the land.”
Berelach, calmer now, reached to grip Freawyn’s shoulder. “Sorry, Freawyn - we were all worried,” he explained, and gave her a wan smile. “By the way - this is Idhrenion from Rivendell. - But, should we talk at the Boar or stay here?” the Admiral asked, not sure if such a ‘public’ place would be a good place to share their thoughts…
Saelon thought about Berelach’s question and offered, “Perhaps, given the latest information that Freawyn has brought us, it would be wise to remain here and discuss the situation where unwanted eyes will not see and ears will not hear.”
"I vote that we stay here," he said, and walked over to peek out the window, "It's normal for you and I, Saelon, and even Berelach's presence wouldn't be out of the ordinary, but someone might take an interest if they notice Idhrenion, and with the things we need to talk about we shouldn't risk having unfriendly ears listening."
Solemnly, "There's no telling who is a friend and who's an enemy, I fear," he went on, turning back to them, "Today while I was out looking for Freawyn's whereabouts," he glanced at the woman, knowing she felt bad for having worried them all, "There seemed to be an unease in the air all around. Maybe I imagined it, but I don't like it. And some folk might have noticed me busying around, though I was trying not to stick out."
When the long evening of discussion ended, having eaten a cold meal of meats, cheese and bread, washed down with tea, wine and some ale that Borlas kept in kegs in the stone cellar under the house, they all parted ways, Saelon heading home after promising to return to Berelach’s at sundown the next afternoon. His thoughts were dark and troubled as he fell exhausted onto his bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cenewith had shamefully left so abruptly and she wondered what Delagost had thought about that. She went about her business with a small frown on her brow, such that many of the poor that she visited regularly asked what was troubling her. She struggled to force a bland expression to her face but inwardly she was deeply troubled. She had very much enjoyed Delagost’s brief visit....too much, she thought....and she wondered how Baldir would abide Delagost becoming her friend. That is of course whether Delagost wished to become her friend. She found herself hoping so, very much so.
The only thing that amused her greatly was that for this day, her three “body guards” seemed not to be watching her every move. She kept expecting one or more of their heads to peek out from behind a tree or a bush but her travels were uneventful. She did wonder where they were, as it was highly unusual for them not to be following her about when Baldir was away.
When she arrived home later that day, her aunt eyed her before saying, “Go! Bathe, and then lay down and rest while I get dinner. You look worn out.” Cenewith turned to do as she had been told but then looked back at her only relative left other than her brother.
“Aunt Melarin? What did you think of the gentleman who was here this morning? Delagost, I mean.” She could feel her face flushing even as she asked the question.
Melarin chuckled, and asked, “Well of course it was Delagost. Was there someone else here this morning that I missed?” At the chagrined look on her niece’s face, she softened her teasing. “I thought he was a well-mannered, polite young man.” Smiling she added, “Oh, and quite handsome as well.” She turned her head from Cenewith to hide her inner laughter as Cen’s face grew even redder while at the same time a dreamy look appeared. But her thoughts grew serious and she turned back to Cenewith, resting her hand on her niece’s arm. “Cen, be careful, dear. You must go slowly. You know your brother will be less than pleased.”
Cen bowed her head but not before Melarin caught the look of sadness that enveloped her face. Nodding, then giving her aunt a quick hug, she ran from the room. Melarin stood silently in the middle of the kitchen floor for a long moment before moving to begin the promised dinner.
Cenewith tossed and turned all night, and woke the next morning with dark shadows under her amber colored eyes. After soaking her face under a cool, damp cloth, she brushed her long black hair and braided it tightly back from her face. When she had dressed, she went to find her aunt and have breakfast before beginning to pack her baskets for the day ahead. She and her aunt were sitting at the table when there was a knock on the door. Rising quickly to her feet, her cheeks flushed rosy red, she said, “I’ll get it, Aunt.” Almost running in a most unladylike way, she stopped at the door, taking a very deep breath before she reached for the handle. Opening it, she found herself staring at the one who kept her sleep so troubled.
“Delagost!!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Borlas rode diligently onward, though he was sure there were moments that he had fallen into a torpor and wondered how he had remained on the horse at all. As promised, Halrohir led him to a wooded area within which was a shelter made of bows of trees, a bed of soft grasses covered with a warm blanket inside. The shelter was almost invisible to the naked eye, even when one knew it was there. When Halrohir helped him dismount, he stared around the small clearing wondering why they had stopped, though he was grateful for the respite. But when Halrohir led him to the well hidden shelter, and helped him down upon the soft bedding, Borlas smiled as his eyes closed at once, drifting into sleep at once.
It was much later when he awoke, his eyes noting that darkness had fallen. Turning his head, he could see just beyond the opening a small fire burning and squatting next to it the shadowy figure of his escort. His first attempt at calling out came out nothing more than a harsh croak. He tried again.
“Halrohir.” he managed to choke out. He thought the Ranger turned his head at the sound before he closed his eyes again. He was so very thirsty his tongue felt like a flap of old leather. But suddenly he felt his head lifted and cool water dribbling into his mouth. Opening his eyes, he saw Halrohir before him, one arm holding him up, a water skin in his other hand. “Thank you, sir. More, please.”
The pair spent several days in this secreted hideaway, with Halrohir using his various ‘potions and weeds’, as Borlas had teasingly named them, to heal Borlas’s wounds. As Borlas gained strength, he moved from the bed of grass to the side of the fire, where he watched Halrohir create stews in a pot from various small beasties, all of which were an enigma to the city born elderly man but all of which rejuvenated him. He asked many questions of the tall Ranger.
“Where did you come from? How long have you known Radagast? How did he know where to find me? Did you know Aragorn (though even as he asked that one, Borlas knew that wasn’t possible and felt more the fool for having asked). But the stronger he got, the more he became aware of his surroundings, the way the sun rose and set, the direction they had first traveled, as drowsy as that trip had been for him.
One night, he asked, “Halrohir, are you by any chance taking me to Henneth Annun?” laughing at the surprised expression on the Ranger’s face. “I’m an old man, Hal. I have heard of the Rangers’ hideaway directly from Faramir’s own mouth,” he said, smiling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Radagast rode hard towards Emyn Arnen. He knew he should be riding to Minas Tirith to talk to Eldarion but his first responsibility as he saw it was to assure Borlas’s family that he was safe. He arrived at the small village just after sundown and he stopped first at the Wild Boar, grateful that his old and ragged robes made him look like just another traveler. Asking for directions to the old man’s house, he swallowed a pint while looking around the crowd of customers before leaving the tavern. A group of local men were gathered around his horse, a son of Shadowfax and just as beautiful.
They glanced up as he walked closer, one farmer asking, “Where did you find a steed like this, friend? I heard about a horse like this from my granda’. He was ridden by Mithrandir. But this is the first time I seen a horse like this in my lifetime.”
Radagast smiled as he mounted. “This horse is that horse’s son,” he said to the shocked group as he turned and nudged Shadowlance into a trot. Weaving his way through the narrow village streets, he left the center of town and followed the path that had been described to him, ending up at a small gate. Looking up the hill, he saw his destination. Dismounting, he left Shadowlance to graze as he climbed to the small stone house, crossing the porch and knocking on the door.
It was opened by a tall man with a military bearing. “Berelach, son of Borlas?” Radagast asked. “May I enter? I have word of your father.” When he was invited in, he found himself standing before two other men, a young woman who bore a resemblance to Berelach and..........an elf. Not just any elf but one he knew well.
“Idhrenion? How in the name of the Valar have you come to be here, my old friend?”
[Edited on 9/7/2008 by BerethEdhellen]
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: June 27, 2008 06:06
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The decision had mutually been made to stay at Borlas’ house - for which Berelach was just as glad, and he quite agreed with his friend’s comment.
"It's normal for you and I, Saelon, and even Berelach's presence wouldn't be out of the ordinary, but someone might take an interest if they notice Idhrenion, and with the things we need to talk about we shouldn't risk having unfriendly ears listening."
Raising an eyebrow, Idhrenion kept from shrugging. He’d been walking the village the past several days, and despite Delagost’s young sister’s offer of Human clothing, he knew quite well he’d been ‘noticed’ for what he was. - Yet, the Citadel Guard was still speaking.
Solemnly, "There's no telling who is a friend and who's an enemy, I fear," he went on, turning back to them, "Today while I was out looking for Freawyn's whereabouts," he glanced at the woman, knowing she felt bad for having worried them all, "There seemed to be an unease in the air all around. Maybe I imagined it, but I don't like it. And some folk might have noticed me busying around, though I was trying not to stick out."
Solemnly, though inwardly impressed by Delagost’s insight, “You did not imagine it, mellon nín,” the elf spoke up. “And, if this is what Borlas ‘felt’,” and he glanced at Saelon, “It bodes ‘ill’ for discovering what has happened to him.”
Sighing, and depressed, “I’ll get us some tea and something to eat,” the sea-Admiral commented, and in a short time they were all sitting around his father’s table. Whilst they ate, the five began discussing the information that Freawyn had brought them.
The evening was long, and by the time that Saelon and Delagost and Idhrenion decided to head off for a night’s sleep, Berelach felt as exhausted as if he’d been fighting an ocean gale.
When he and his niece were left alone, he smiled wanly at her. “We both need some sleep, Frea,” he sighed, and Berelach very much appreciated her aiding him to clean up after the dinner so they could.
The next day - for the Admiral and his young relative - was a ‘quiet’ one. Berelach spoke not at all of the troubles and worries facing them… instead asking more about his sister’s life in Rohan, and of Frea’s. He shared old memories of his childhood with his niece, and a few sea-stories he thought she might appreciate… until such time as they knew the others would be returning for the next evening’s discussion…
*****************
At the end of the evening Delagost bade his friends a solemn goodnight, and bade them all to take care- especially Saelon, who he was often concerned about (by being a double agent he put himself in more danger than any of them). Idhrenion returned with him to his own home, where his family had gone to bed- save for Mirian, of course, who had wanted to bid their elven guest a goodnight.
Delagost shared a smile with his friend, hoping he wasn't pestered by her... for himself, he adored her curious nature.
"Sleep well," be bade Ren, and went for his own bed...
Thoughtful after the evening’s discussion, with a nod to Delagost in reply, Idhrenion turned his attention to the guard’s sister.
“Well, young Mirian,” the elf smiled politely at her. “It was kind of you to wait up for us,” he went on. And, as he walked with the girl toward his room, “Tell me - did you pass a pleasant day?”
After bidding her a, “Losto mae, pen dithen,” (sleep well, little one) the elf retired, and as he composed himself for sleep, mused on the day’s occurrences.
He was quite relieved that Freawyn had returned… her disappearance had been an unwelcome worry to the Admiral, and to all. Ren had agreed that the three young men needed to be watched - carefully - and hoped it could be done without alerting their quarry.
But, it was this ‘Baldir’ who interested Idhrenion most. From the descriptions he’d received from the others, Ren doubted that this man was the ‘one’ behind Borlas' disappearance. - But… under who’s ‘authority’ was he acting? *That* they needed to discover, he thought, and as he drifted off into his usual elven-sleep, he continued to ponder it.
~@~@~@~
Upon rising (much earlier than the Humans in the house), Idhrenion went outside to visit his horse for a while. Many had been his friend in the long Ages of his lifetime, but Eluvorn held a ‘special’ place in the elf’s heart. He might just be the ‘last’ mount to be in Idhrenion’s company, he knew… for fewer and fewer of his Kind were remaining in Arda, and one Day, Ren knew he would follow the Straight Road, too.
By the time dawn came, he was back in the house, and sharing a pleasant breakfast with his hosts. - But, as Delagost went out for his inquiries, the ellon remained behind. “I will use this day for study,” Idhrenion told the Citadel Guard, and with an amused smile at Mirian, “And, perhaps a few lessons in Elvish?” he offered to the man’s young sister.
When the sun began to set that evening, Idhrenion felt it a day well-spent. He’d reviewed (carefully) the texts he felt ‘useful’ (though uncertain if he‘d gleaned anything more from what he‘d reread), and then had spent several hours teaching Mirian words in his native language… along with showing her how to write the Tengwar letters, and giving her a sheet of parchment upon which to practice them…
***********************
Once again at Berelach’s, as they were beginning to settle down to discuss the day, everyone was startled to hear a knock at the door.
Throwing the other’s an uneasy glance, Berelach took a deep breath and went to answer it. Who would be coming to Borlas’ house? he couldn’t help but wonder. Everyone in Emyn Arnen *knew* his father was ‘missing’. Perhaps it was someone who remembered something? Upon opening the door, however, Berelach did not recognize the raggedly-dressed person standing there at all.
“Yes?” he inquired nervously. “May I help you?”
“Berelach, son of Borlas?” Radagast asked. “May I enter? I have word of your father.”
Wide-eyed, “Oh!!” the Admiral almost couldn‘t believe what he‘d heard. “Please! - Oh, yes - please *do* come in!” Berelach felt as if the world were ‘spinning’ as he stepped back to allow it.
“Where is he?” Berelach demanded to know… Borlas’ ‘fate’ so much on his mind he didn’t think to introduce his niece or present companions.
It turned out, however, that at least one introduction was ‘unnecessary’.
Curious as to who had knocked, Idhrenion’s brow had furrowed slightly upon hearing the voice without Borlas’ house. It was… ‘familiar’, somehow, but from so long ago that…
When he was invited in, he found himself standing before two other men, a young woman who bore a resemblance to Berelach and..........an elf. Not just any elf but one he knew well.
“Idhrenion? How in the name of the Valar have you come to be here, my old friend?
After more than twenty-five Ages of life in Middle Earth, there was very little that could ‘surprise’ Idhrenion any more. - But, as he recognized the newcomer, an expression of shock was on the elf’s face.
”Radagast!?!? he gasped, and then a wide smile appeared. Rushing forward, Ren grasped the Maia’s arms in the elven manner of greeting. “Mellon vrûn nín!” (my long-established old friend) he cried, quite(!) glad to see him.
Centuries (Ren had lost count of how ‘many’, in fact) it had been since he’d last seen Radagast, but for him to show up *now* was ‘telling’ to the Imladrian elf.
But, “Come in, come in!” Idhrenion bade him, and sobering somewhat, “Yes, this is Berelach,” the ellon said, “And Saelon, and Delagost, and,” nodding to the young woman, “Freawyn, Borlas’ granddaughter and the Admiral’s niece.”
Momentarily silenced by the elf’s greeting to the stranger, the name ‘Radagast’ was one to send any man into stunned amazement. - But, as the urgency of what happened to his missing parent was uppermost in his mind, “What ‘word’ do bring of my father?” Berelach once again demanded to know, as (rather ‘impatiently’) he waved everyone into the sitting room.
What they were ‘told’, however, was NOT entirely ‘satisfactory’ to the worried Admiral. His father was ‘alive’… was ‘safe’, but nothing more than that would Radagast share.
That much (of course) was a ‘relief’ to him, but Berelach wanted to see such for himself, and with the stress of the past days, his temper was in shreds. It took his friends some time to calm him down - though they couldn’t completely do so, and even through the ‘explanation’ of *why* Radagast would not expound further, Berelach was seething.
Idhrenion - knowing the Maia as he did - was *not* surprised his old friend was ‘evasive’. It was (all things considered) ‘better’ that information which might end up in the wrong hands NOT be known, and calmly added that comment into the conversation.
But, when this evening, too, came to an ‘end’, Berelach angrily stomping off to his room… Freawyn heading to hers, and Saelon and Delagost to their homes, instead of returning to the Guard’s house, Ren turned to his very old friend. With a smile, “We have much to get caught up on, mellon nín,” he said, “Our present ‘situation’ not the least of it. Come,” the elf suggested, “Let us go up to Borlas’ room to talk…”
*********************************
‘Elsewhere’ in Ithilien, a shadowed figure made it’s way through the moonlit forest.
It cared not for the beauty of the stars overhead, or the cool of the night’s air.
A staff was in it’s grasp… gnarled, and polished with age, it was ‘more’ than a walking-stick.
Grey eyes peered out from beneath the hood… eyes which could seem as ‘cold’ as ice - and yet, which missed ‘nothing’ - as ‘sharply’ they searched for one place, and one place only.
Who he was, only a *very* few ‘knew’… but he cared not at all about that. When he’d found what he was looking for, a harsh, whispered Voice came from the depths of his hood. “It seems your ‘plans’ are ‘progressing’!” it said. “’Unease’ is ‘spreading’… though the ‘people’,” he added, with a dark, evil 'glee' in his tone, “are unaware of ‘why’.”
And, “Where stand we on finding the Stones?” Farvo inquired, seating himself on the ground and looking ‘intently’ upon the Dark One. - But, *he* was the Dark One’s ‘right hand’, and fully aware of the chaos to come…
[Edited on 27/6/2008 by gwendeth]
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: July 07, 2008 06:10
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(Sorry it took so long... Hope its ok! Let me know if anything needs editing...)
The next morning Delagost woke feeling tired. He'd had dark dreams about shadows with blazing eyes attacking his home and his family, his friends being killed.... he didn't like this, not at all. He was feeling less adventurous than ever, and thought of trying to go back to sleep... but, he needed to tell Cenewith that Freawyn was back safely.
Dragging himself out of bed he wandered into the kitchen for breakfast, and found Mirian once again looking at Ren, though now with less open interest.
As he was setting out he turned to the elf.
"Do you want to join me, Idhrenion?" he asked, "I'm going out for a while."
“I will use this day for study,” Idhrenion told the Citadel Guard, and with an amused smile at Mirian, “And, perhaps a few lessons in Elvish?” he offered to the man’s young sister.
At seeing the pure delight on his sister's face, Del couldn't help the fond smile that touched his lips. Mentally he thanked the elf- it would be a special day for Mirian indeed, seeing as how she adored elves and stories about them.
"I'll be back later on," he said, and left the house. The air seemed heavy to him and he wondered if it would rain. The sky was a bit gray despite the light of morning...
His mind strayed to the night before, and the discussion... and then it strayed ahead, to Cenewith. She was a lovely young woman, he thought, and a sweet one- unless he was deceived... but, he sensed that she knew nothing of Baldir’s doings. Or, if she knew, she had no part in it, he was certain.
When he reached the home of Baldir he felt nervous. Why? He wanted to kick himself for being silly, but he just sighed and knocked on the door.
I’ll simply tell her Freawyn is safe and then move on, he said to himself, but as soon as the door was opened and he saw Cenewith looking at him, he knew he couldn’t do only that. “Delagost!” she exclaimed, and he was sure he flushed slightly.
“Good morning, Cenewith,” he said, “I...ah... hope you had a good night...”
Her beautiful eyes were ringed with dark circles. She had obviously not had a good night, and he felt foolish for having said something about it. Her cheeks were a charming shade of pink, and she was lovely even though she looked a bit weary. He was sure he looked tired himself.
“I was just coming to let you know that Freawyn returned home last night... she’s just fine, though she took a scolding from her uncle for running off.” Smiling slightly, “I didn’t want you to worry about her...”
He was invited in and he came in, politely declining the aunt’s invitation to breakfast, but did accept another cup of tea (this one he was determined not to spill on himself). He saw the baskets and remembered that Cen delivered food around the town... she was such a kind woman. It was a lot to haul around for just one, though.
“Are these the things you deliver around Emyn Arnen?” he asked conversationally... and was a bit embarrassed when Cenewith’s aunt ‘suggested’ that Del accompany her on that day to give her a hand. He had been thinking the same thing, maybe, but he couldn’t help blushing... and she was blushing too.
“I... I would be more than glad to go with you, Cenewith, if you’ll have me,” he said... and that was how he ended up going with her on her pony cart to make her deliveries. It was quite unexpected, and he told himself that he would take this time to see if she ‘knew’ anything (even though he already figured she didn’t). He hoped Saelon wouldn’t catch sight of him... his friend would never let him live it down.
“Where’s our first stop, lady?” he asked her with a smile, “It’s been a long while since I rode around town. I’ve been out to the meadow riding with my sister on occasion, but it has been weeks upon weeks... have you ever been there? I imagine there are many flowers blooming this time of year. Its really quite lovely... Mirian loves to gather flowers and make petal-crowns for herself.” He laughed at the memory, “Sometimes she makes them for me too, even when I protest.”
With a slight twinkle in his eye, and a blush on his cheeks, “Maybe we can stop by there before we return to your home today, Cen... it does cheer the heart. “
They stopped to make Cen’s deliveries, Delagost tripping more than once as he climbed off the cart to help. He was quite embarrassed but Cenewith didn't laugh at him, though she did catch what looked like a fond smile touching her lips- though he pretended he hadn't.
They had stopped and shared a lunch that her aunt had wrapped for them, and the day was waning when they delivered the last of the food to the poor. Smiling at her as she returned to the cart, “You’re very kind, Cenewith,” he said, “To help these people as you do.”
Unlike your brother, The thought came unbidden to his mind, Baldir, who by his doings may well destroy the hope and happiness and what peace these people *do* have....
Clearing his throat, he turned back ahead. “To the meadow, then?” he asked. They made their way there and he was mostly silent, troubled again. The day had been so pleasant he’d hardly thought of his worries at all, but now they were on him once more. How he longed not to think of them and ruin his time with Cenewith. Why he should wish such a thing he didn’t know... it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, these hours out with the pretty young woman.... wasn’t it?
Once they’d reached the meadow he aided her down and they turned to look together at the flowers and tall grasses. Breathing deep the pleasant smell, “Isn’t it nice?” he said, and felt stupid at once for his choice of words. Smiling, though, he offered her his arm (quite boldly, he thought to himself), and they began to walk through the grass, leaving the pony to graze.
They had taken only five steps when Delagost’s foot landed right in a gopher-hole. With a yelp he pitched forward, toppling to the ground- and accidentally pulling Cenewith with him. His face was bright red, but he chuckled slightly when he saw that she was smiling too.
“Forgive me,” he said, and suddenly found himself plucking a yellow flower from nearby and sticking it into her black hair. “A flower for a flower,” he added, his blush deepening...
* * * * * * * * *
It was later when Del returned to Emyn Arnen with Cen, and bade her good evening before taking himself back to Berelach’s. There were many things on his mind, and not all of them dark. Her... she was... but, his attention was soon turned to other matters. He admitted he’d learned nothing at all during the day... but they hadn’t spoken much when a knock came to the door. Wondering who would be calling at such an hour, Del’s hand rested on the hilt of the knife at his belt as Berelach went to answer.
“Yes?” he inquired nervously. “May I help you?”
“Berelach, son of Borlas?” Radagast asked. “May I enter? I have word of your father.”
Wide-eyed, “Oh!!” the Admiral almost couldn‘t believe what he‘d heard. “Please! - Oh, yes - please *do* come in!” Berelach felt as if the world were ‘spinning’ as he stepped back to allow it.
“Where is he?” Berelach demanded to know
Delagost looked at the newcomer warily. A stranger showing up, claiming to know where Borlas was... how could they trust this man? He looked very unkempt. The young man didn’t get up, but watched quietly. Maybe he was a friend, and maybe not... there was ‘something’ about him, certainly...
When he was invited in, he found himself standing before two other men, a young woman who bore a resemblance to Berelach and..........an elf. Not just any elf but one he knew well.
“Idhrenion? How in the name of the Valar have you come to be here, my old friend?
”Radagast!?!? he gasped, and then a wide smile appeared. Rushing forward, Ren grasped the Maia’s arms in the elven manner of greeting. “Mellon vrûn nín!”
But, “Come in, come in!” Idhrenion bade him, and sobering somewhat, “Yes, this is Berelach,” the ellon said, “And Saelon, and Delagost, and,” nodding to the young woman, “Freawyn, Borlas’ granddaughter and the Admiral’s niece.”
“Radagast?” Delagost shared a surprised look with Saelon. Radagast the Brown, the wizard of lore? What part did he have in this tale? Jumping to his feet- for, here was someone who had known the great Gandalf, and was now involved in their business one way or another. If he brought news of Borlas....
“What ‘word’ do bring of my father?” Berelach once again demanded to know, as (rather ‘impatiently’) he waved everyone into the sitting room.
Delagost was eager to know, too... but, Radagast merely assured them that Borlas was alive and safe, and would say nothing about where he was. Berelach didn’t like being given so ‘little’, and Del grasped his shoulder firmly, trying to calm him. If the wizard shared only this, then it was because he had to share only this.... their situation, it seemed, got darker and darker.
*********************************
Falithor felt as though he were under hard scrutiny as he told his tale to the dark one, not liking that feeling at all. When he had finished the hooded figured nodded slowly, the motion of his head reminding the sailor of a snake preparing to strike.
"I may have use for you in the future," he told the sailor. "I will send for you when needed. Meanwhile keep your eyes and ears open and report anything interesting you might hear to Baldir and realize that feeding us false information could prove… fatal."
Gulping, Falithor bowed slightly, “Of course, my lord,” he said. He wouldn’t lie to this person... not even he who had lied to his own captain, to his brother, to nearly everyone he knew- he didn’t dare. He felt that those cold eyes would know a lie before he spoke it, and that his life would be taken from his body in the most unpleasant of ways if that happened.
After his long pause for thought, the Dark One resumed his conversation with the sailor. "You may leave now," he said. "Go wait by your horses. Baldir will return to you shortly."
He motioned for the sailor to leave.
Nodding obediently, he turned and wandered toward the stinking horses. Falithor wanted badly to peek over his shoulder at the two who were now speaking, but he didn’t. He felt shaky, almost weak, as though he’d just fought a great fight. What in the world had he gotten himself into?
When Baldir finally returned he said nothing, but mounted and headed off. Falithor followed with some difficulty, deciding that he quite despised horses. Whatever questions he had, he kept them to himself- Baldir looked grim and deep in thought, and piping up now would probably get the sailor knocked right out of the saddle, which he was having enough trouble staying in anyway.
After some time, “I need a drink after that,” he muttered darkly, "You want me to buy you one?"
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| Halrohir |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: July 08, 2008 04:10
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Halrohir departed the prison-hole where Borlas had lain and moved north-west at a steady pace, both to ease Borlas’ condition for the march, and to be certain they were neither observed nor followed. Radagast’s intent was veiled behind his words; it would be days before it was safe for Borlas to be seen, and Halrohir had to use that time wisely.
The horse that bore the weakened man walked evenly along a path that wound and vanished at times between the trees. Ever and often Halrohir would rein up and pause, allowing Borlas to pass him by and continue on; the horse seemed to know the way and direction. For a few moments, he would listen, and smell, and gaze about, testing the air and reaching out with every sense he had. This pace went on for an hour as the sun continued to set, but Halrohir did not hurry. Just as the last sunbeam split the leaves above them, the horses stood in a low hollow, an old stream course with steep sides sheltered by a thicket of trees.
Borlas was halfway asleep when Halrohir dismounted and came up alongside to help the old man to his feet. Supporting him, he walked Borlas to a small shelter he had prepared at Radagast’s instruction; a well-built and well-concealed lean-to large enough for three grown men, a hunter’s lodge hidden by the folds of the land. He helped the weakened man into the lodge, and almost immediately Borlas slipped into a restful dreamless slumber, a small smile on his face. Halrohir smiled too; the first part of his task was done. Now came the slow work of recovery.
Quietly and swiftly, Halrohir moved to a small hearth of stone and earth and kindled a small fire, just enough to give light to the camp, a puddle of light left behind in the gloom of the forest. The light was fading into twilight, and soon to dark, and Halrohir worked quickly to build his fire. Standing up, he moved to the edge of the camp, where the two horses stood by, lazily tethered to low branches. He moved first to his own horse, a shadow blacker than the gathering night.
“Well done, Morindal old friend”, Hal spoke quietly to the great black, “we have him safe, and with no evil eyes following. I will look round a bit while there is still some light; you and Barangil will have to keep watch for me, here. Call loud for me if things go ill,” he said as he stroked the horse’s muzzle and loosened the tether for him to graze, then he turned and walked off into the trees. The great black steed watched him go, and returned to his grass.
Halrohir walked in a wide circle around the hollow and the camp, testing the air, straining his ears and eyes. The smoke and gleam from the tiny fire was not visible, nor could it be smelt. The scent of the horses was also masked by the damp loam of the wood. And he had chosen the path well; soft grass and moss would have left great signs of their passing, but hard earth and stone would not. There was little chance they would be tracked to here, and Halrohir counted on this. Borlas would need several days of rest and feeding before traveling any greater distance, especially to his planned destination.
Halrohir returned to the camp, the fire burning steadily and casting a fitful glow to see the camp by. The horses were content; and the sound of Borlas’ breathing told him all was well. He settled down near the fire, giving wood to the flames, and boiling some water in a small metal cup. He heard behind him a cough, then a soft voice, calling his name. Borlas has awoken, and his throat was a wreck of dryness. Halrohir rose, and brought a water skin into the lodge. Supporting Borlas with one arm, he offered the skin to him, which Borlas drank eagerly, asking for more between swallows and breaths. This was a good sign. Soon, his hunger would return as well. Seeing that the man had drunk his fill, Halrohir set Borlas down to sleep once more, and left quietly to return to the fire.
Dawn came the next day, and the days that followed, to see Halrohir already rising and moving off and away from the camp, after first checking to see Borlas’ condition. He moved away from the camp in wider circles each day, armed with short bow and dagger, and a large handful of cord. At places beneath the trees, he set up small snares along carefully hidden pathways. His pouch began to fill with carefully plucked herbs and bits of forest materials. Twice, his bow came up, and an arrow would bring down small game. Several times, the snares proved successful, and more game went under his knife.
Borlas gained in strength each day. On the second morning, he ventured out a little from the lodge to see the small hearth, the horses, and in time to see Halrohir’s return, his bow in one hand and a clutch of squirrels in the other.
“Well met, Borlas”, Halrohir said softly and with good spirit. “Good it is, to see you up, but take care – your strength has not yet returned, and even rest can deceive. The next thing you need is food, and in a little while, you shall have it.” Halrohir knelt near the fire, and began preparing the meat for a stew, and became aware that his swift motions were being watched by Borlas, a curious look in his eye. Halrohir smiled as he worked.
“Your body is recovering from harsh trial, my friend,” Halrohir explained, “and you must move along slowly. Too much food too soon will only cause you grief. I am creating a hunter’s stew for you, a hearty broth with a virtue all its own. Herbs which I have found in my wanderings will serve to fortify you as well.” The dressed meats and herbs went into the cup, which merrily boiled and made a hot broth for both men. As they ate, Halrohir busied himself with a second metal cup, boiling more water. Into this, he crushed and sprinkled more herbs and allowed it to steep.
“This tea will also serve, perhaps even as well as the broth. The herb is renowned for its virtue, for it is kingsfoil, culled when I left the North a few weeks ago. It is not fresh, but it serves as a tea. The Dunedain healers discovered the properties of this tincture a generation ago, and when drunk, it serves to heal the insides as well.” Halrohir offered a steaming cup of the tea to Borlas as he talked. “Sip it slowly, and allow it to coat your mouth and throat, savoring it.”
Several meals like that first one followed in the next few days. At these meals and during the daylight hours, Borlas sat fireside with Halrohir, asking questions about his host and guardian, and Halrohir answered every one of them as best he could, pleased that Borlas was making such progress.
“I came from the Northern Realm of Arnor”, Halrohir explained one night by the fire. “My home is Wutherhill, a village that grew up near the garrison of Amon Sul, when the ancient watchtower was rebuilt by the King. I am a Ranger of the North, like my father Haladan before me. My grandsire was Halvorn, who rode with the Grey Company during the War of the Ring, and later became one of the Knights of Elessar.
“Radagast, now? I have not been in his company for much more than eight years. I first met him in Bree, and we have been companions on and off since then. But word reached me to meet him with all haste, and I rode to Bree only to find him prepared to ride south even as I arrived. His horse, Shadowlance, is from the very bloodline of Shadowfax himself, and he has inherited the swiftness of his forebear. There are few horses in all the realms who can pace Shadowlance, but my own Morindal is one of them – though the last race to find you taxed that great walking appetite sorely!” Halrohir chuckled as he looked fondly at the black bulk that cropped the moss near the camp.
“Halrohir, are you by any chance taking me to Henneth Annun?” Borlas asked, laughing at the surprised expression on the Ranger’s face. “I’m an old man, Hal. I have heard of the Rangers’ hideaway directly from Faramir’s own mouth,” he said, smiling.
“I do not doubt it, not with your tale of years”, Halrohir replied smiling. “But I am surprised you did not realize it – you are in Ithilien even now. Your captors had little imagination, and did not have a Wizard to help them, as I did. Radagast can summon and speak with all manner of bird and beast, and the very creatures of the forests spoke of the man who lay in the caves of the glens. They also led us to you, and Radagast also insisted they mask our escape.
“And, is my intent to conduct you to the stronghold at Henneth Annun, as soon as I deem you can travel. There, you will recover fully, and we can find news of what is happening. The Rangers still maintain their garrison there, so Radagast told me; and he arranged messengers between us which will meet us there. And he promised to get word to your family that you were safe; I daresay there will likely be word of them, for you as well.”
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| Merides |
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| Edraitheru_Melannen |
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: August 03, 2008 10:20
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“Where is he?” Berelach demanded to know.
“My boy, perhaps a cup of tea? I have been riding long and hard,” he smiled as he spoke to the flustered Berelach, while still striding past the Admiral into the hallway and towards the sitting room. As he eyed the gathered group, his eyes lit up as he espied the single elf and called out to him, wondering how Idhrenion had managed to find himself in this very house at this very time when he was most needed.
”Radagast!?!? he gasped, and then a wide smile appeared. Rushing forward, Ren grasped the Maia’s arms in the elven manner of greeting. “Mellon vrûn nín!” (my long-established old friend) he cried, quite(!) glad to see him.
It was Idhrenion who made the introductions of these people, all staring at him with curiosity until his name was offered them. Saelon shared a quick and very much surprised glance at Delagost then looked back at the raggedly dressed man, his long hair and beard scraggly and full of miscellaneous leaves and twigs, his robes spattered with ages of mud and dust. Yet his blue eyes twinkled with humor and intelligence as he made his greeting to each in turn, his hand firmly gripping theirs in the manner of men.
Once again Berelach pressed the issue of his father’s whereabouts. Radagast’s eyebrow raised slightly as he chuckled and replied, “Will no one offer an old man a cup of tea, a draft of ale, nothing?” When Saelon finally handed him a pint of Borlas’s ale, he sipped it with pleasure before turning to face Berelach. “Your father is safe. I can assure you of that. He has been badly wounded, I fear, but he is alive and feisty as always. I have left him in the hands of a fine Ranger fellow, who will care for him for the time being. Hopefully, you shall be able to see him within due time but for now it is better that the fact he still lives be kept our secret.”
It was obvious to all that such a response was not what Berelach wanted to hear and his temper was fraying quickly. Saelon layed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, speaking calmingly. “Berelach, I’m sure Radagast will let you know more in good time. Be at ease and wait. Is it not enough to know that your father lives?” But Berelach was not to be eased, even when Idhrenion added it was better that information which might end up in the wrong hands NOT be known, and calmly added that comment into the conversation.
Radagast stood by the window humming a strange melody as he stared out into the night. Saelon whispered to Delagost, “I think we’d best leave Berelach to sort this out for himself. We should leave now and return tomorrow, yes?”
When the two young men had left and Berelach had stomped off to his room with Freawyn following, a last rueful look over her shoulder, Idhrenion suggested that he and Radagast remove to Borlas’ room. Radagast smiled and nodded. “Yes, we have much to discuss, my old friend, much that I would trust to no one but you.”
When they had settled in two comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace in the old man’s bedroom, Radagast and Idhrenion began to talk….and they talked and talked. They shared what they both knew and what they needed to plan for. Radagast finished late in the night with, “The two of them are out there, Idhrenion, plotting and scheming to bring back the evil days of Sauron. I heard from my friends, the birds and beasts, where the one known as the “Dark One” was holding the old gentleman. It was little problem to keep track of where he was at any given time and thus to take Borlas from under his very nose. It is his cohort, the one now known as Farvo, that concerns me, however. He disappeared into the north some time ago and I have yet to determine what he is up to.”
Getting up to stretch his legs, he turned to look at the elf. “I worry for Saelon. He’s playing with fire every time he attends one of Baldir’s meetings. What is he going to do when Baldir asks of him a task that will put his friends and family at risk? And I fear that will happen too soon…too soon.” Sighing, he added, “I think we should persuade Berelach to allow us to take his niece with us when we travel to Minas Tirith. As we will be meeting with the King, we can ask him to place her as a lady-in-waiting to one of his sisters or something like, to keep her safe. Then I think we should have Berelach travel with us to Henneth Annun.”
With a wink, he continued, “And if we can arrange for Saelon to come with us as well, we will at least keep him from Baldir’s scheming plans too.” Stretching his arms above his head, he glanced down at the elf. “Tell me, do you know a decent barn where I can house Shadowlance…and perhaps the two of us could find a thick pile of hay and get some rest ourselves. I feel a need for fresh air and the company of beasts.
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Cenewith had awakened that morning from her troubled sleep and when she opened the door to find Delagost standing there, she quickly ran her fingers through her tumbled and not yet brushed hair, her tanned cheeks coloring with pink. When he told her about Freawyn, she forgot her appearance as she wrapped her fingers around his arm. “She is well? Truly well? Oh, that is such good news. Thank you for coming to me and telling me this. Come, have some breakfast.”
When Delagost had followed her into the kitchen and her aunt had renewed her offer of breakfast, Delagost declined but did accept a cup of tea, much to Cenewith’s pleasure. As he sipped his tea, she and her aunt finished the last few baskets, filling them with fresh loaves of bread and jars of jam as well as tomatoes and other vegetables from their garden. When he asked if these were the baskets she delivered, she nodded, her eyes sparkling. It was her aunt who asked Delagost to give her a hand if he liked and she found she couldn’t look a him, fearful of his answer, but his answer made her smile shyly.
“I... I would be more than glad to go with you, Cenewith, if you’ll have me,” he said.
When they finished loading the small pony cart, they set off for her rounds of the village poor, stopping long enough to drop off the baskets and check on the well-being of the sick, the old, and the children. She watched Delagost’s kindness to the people she visited regularly and appreciated his help in lifting the weak and ill. His awkwardness in her presence touched her heart and those moments when he seemed to trip over his own feet only filled her with affection.
The late afternoon was upon them when they dropped off the last basket and rode out to the great meadow at the north end of the village that Delagost had said he had taken his younger sister to visit. Cenewith was so deep in thought she barely noticed that Delagost was more quiet than he had been during the day. Her own thoughts troubled her deeply. She had so enjoyed the day spent with the Citadel guard. But she wondered what Baldir would have to say about her outing, innocent as it had been. Baldir was this dear man’s superior officer. Would he make life difficult for Delagost if he learned of the day they spent together?
They arrived at the meadow, profuse with wild flowers and soft grass. She took his arm as they began too stroll through the field. Suddenly, with a yelp, Delagost stumbled. Cenewith, her hand still tucked in his arm, fell with him. As they disentangled themselves, Cenewith, a smile curling her lips, found her face only inches from Delagost’s.
“Forgive me,” he said, and suddenly found himself plucking a yellow flower from nearby and sticking it into her black hair. “A flower for a flower,” he added, his blush deepening...
Cenewith, flustered as she was, could think of nothing to say except, “Thank you,” as she scrambled to her feet, brushing off her skirts. Glancing at the sky already reddening as the sun fell towards the horizon, she cleared her throat. “Delagost, do get up, please. It’s getting late and I must be home before Aunt sends out the Citadel Guards to find me,” she said, chuckling. She reached out a hand to him, tugging him to his feet. They walked back to the wagon several steps apart, though she accepted his hand to climb into the cart. Picking up the reins, she clicked the pony forward.
“Delagost, how well do you know my brother?” she asked unexpectedly, to herself as well as her companion. She really had no idea why she had asked this foolish question except she wanted any information about him she could find. Whatever was happening around the country, and she was not oblivious to the shadows that seemed to fill the air of late, it seemed to be affecting Baldir, her beloved brother.
She had no idea how deeply her question affected Delagost.
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The long quiet days spent in the wild with Halrohir gave Borlas time to heal most of his wounds. His leg and arm, the worst of his injuries, were becoming manageable, and he found riding his well-mannered horse easier each day. He also found his traveling companion excellent company, the man’s tales both fascinating and amusing. Borlas, who had spent his entire life within the sight of the great white city, listened intensely to the tales of the northern realms, places he had only barely heard of in his lifetime.
One thing intrigued him more than anything he had heard from Halrohir and one night as they sat around the small fire eating more of the delicious stew of Halrohir’s creation, he asked the question. “Halrohir, I heard once, long ago from my father, that anyone not an Ithilien Ranger is blindfolded to keep the actual location of the garrison secret. Is that still true? Will I need to be blindfolded?” He waited anxiously for Halrohir’s answer. The “Dark One” had blindfolded him, too, and he was frightened by the thought of being so again, even in the hands of his new friend.
He had lost track of time during their northward journey so he was surprised at the sudden appearance of four Rangers. They seemed to have risen from the very earth to stand before the traveling pair. A frisson of fear filled Borlas until one stepped forward.
“Halrohir! We have been awaiting your arrival. Mae govannen,” he said, raising his hand in greeting. “And Borlas, son of Beregond, how go your travels? Halrohir seems to have done well by you. But come, follow us. We have news of your family. Your son may be coming soon,” he added, smiling.
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Baldir snorted in contempt when Falithor suggested a drink. “I have business to attend to,” he snapped, as he turned his horse towards the upper levels of Minas Tirith. “I will keep the horse for a while; tell the stablemaster,” he ordered. Glancing back over his shoulder, he narrowed his cold silver eyes. “Beware what you say to those around you of your recent trip. Your life depends upon your discretion.” With that, he nudged his horse forward and up the long streets to the Citadel.
Arriving at the level just below the Citadel itself, he dismounted, tossing the reins to a stable boy. “See that this horse is fed, watered and rested and return it to the stable near the main gate.” As he climbed the final ramp to the citadel, one of his guards ran up to him, his hand outstretched and holding a sealed document. “Sir, sir, this arrived for you while you were gone. I have been watching for your return to hand it to you.”
Baldir ripped the missive from the man’s hand and strode off towards his room, grateful once again of his status as it meant he had a room to himself. Lighting his lamp, he sat and tore the seal from the document, opening and reading it in the dim light. From his three ‘searchers’ in Emyn Arnen, it merely stated, in poor writing and mis-spelled words which curled Baldir’s lip in contempt, that they had returned and had much to tell Baldir. Stretching out his long legs, he lay his head back on the chair, staring into space.
His thoughts were dark, his fear of the “Dark One’s” displeasure uppermost in his mind. He was on duty for yet another month; how could he just leave? After a long while, he rose to his feet and left his room. Catching the arm of a passing guard, he asked where his Lieutenant, his second in command, was this evening. He strode off to search for him and when he found him, told him, “A family problem has arisen. I must need return home at once. I am putting you in charge until my return. I will keep you advised as to when I will be back.” Without waiting for any response, he stomped off back to his room, where he threw his belongings into a pack and yelled for one of his guards to order his horse readied.
Riding back to Emyn Arnen through the black night, his mind was busy plotting and scheming. He needed to find what the three had discovered and also needed their help confiscating the ‘stone’ from Borlas’ house, though given the number of people coming and going from that house was going to make a search difficult. And strange people? He had seen no one strange that didn’t belong in his village the last time he was home. What was the “Dark One” worrying so about?
He arrived mid-morning. His Aunt Melarin was in the kitchen and looked up at him with a small gasp. “Baldir! What are you doing home?”
“Are you not pleased to see me, Aunt?” he asked.
“But of course, nephew,” she answered, “It is just unexpected.” She was flustered as she quickly put the kettle on for tea. Baldir, his thoughts far from where he was, hardly noticed. The day passed quickly though, as he had business in town. First to find the three, who he left a message for to meet him after dark in a deserted barn outside the village. Then he asked around for unusual visitors to the village. He was stunned when he heard that an elf had arrived….an Elf!, had visited Berelach and was staying with the family of one of his own Citadel Guards, Delagost. When he also heard that a rider on a horse like that of the wizard Mithrandir, long known in the history of Gondor, had also appeared in the village, his head was spinning. He was glad that he had taken leave of Minas Tirith to return to his village as there seemed to be much occurring that needed observation on behalf of his master.
He got back to the house as the day was waning, just in time to meet his sister returning from her daily jaunts about the village….accompanied by, of all people, Delagost. Standing in the kitchen doorway, he greeted his sister, “Cenewith? And how was your day?” But his narrow-eyed, baleful glare never left Delagost.
Life is good! Live it to the fullest. Love well those near and dear.
"You cannot step into the same river twice, for the waters are ever flowing on ....." Heraclitus
I Aear cân ven na mar
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: August 05, 2008 05:10
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The Dark One peered at his servant from under his own cowl at the ice-cold eyes of the one in front of him.
"We now have the Ithil Stone," he replied. "We only await the Osgiliath Stone and we know of its location. The problem has been in getting access to it."
A cold smile touched the edges of Farvo’s thin lips. “Progress indeed,” he agreed, and inwardly did not doubt that the greatest of the Palantiri would be in their possession when the time was ‘right’ for it.
The Dark One paused in thought and then continued, "Where have you been of late? I have been missing your service and your cunning. It is good to have you back old friend. Together, we will rule this land."
He smiled and said. "More plans are under way which few know anything about. We are soon to gain a powerful ally for the chaos that is sure to follow. Now, what news have you gained to aid our purposes?"
A ‘gleam’ flashed in Farvo’s cold, grey eyes. In answer, “That is good news,“ he commented, but then went on, “In the North,” he replied to his old friend‘s question. “I have searched the northern-most part of the Hithaeglir, and the Ered Mithrin. There are,” he went on, “remnants of the Hill-men scattered in and amongst the mountains, and living in the ruins of Framsburg. They are descendents of those who were hunted for allying themselves with Angmar. I have,” and pausing briefly to once again smile coldly, “’persuaded’ them that allegiance to us is a thing to be desired,” Farvo told his old friend, leaving ‘open’ what his method of ‘persuasion’ might have been.
“Their numbers are small, though in their seclusion, they have been steadily increasing,” the hooded newcomer added. - And, with a practiced ‘flick’ of his wrist, Farvo tossed a fresh piece of wood onto the slowly-dying fire.
Embers and sparks flew in every direction… leaving ‘crackles’ and thin trails of orange and gold in their wake, but Farvo paid no attention to them. He was, of course, curious as to who this ’powerful ally’ was, but, “They but await my ‘word’ to come and join our ranks,” he finished, and then watched the Dark One’s eyes to see how his news would be received…
********************************
Still upset, and tired, Berelach had confessed his irritation with Radagast’s curt ‘explanation ‘of his missing father’s status to his newly-discovered niece. Whether she understood his feelings or not, though…
Leaning over, Frea placed her small hand over her uncle's large, work-worn one. "It will all work out for the best, I'm sure. Radagast surely has his reasons for not telling us what's going on. I'm sure he'll tell us when he feels it is safe to..." Unsure of where that thought had come from, she pondered it a moment. "Is it safe? Uncle, are we safe right now? There have been some strange things happening recently. Can you tell me what is *truly* going on here?"
A ‘pained’ sort of anxiousness crossed the Admiral’s face at Freawyn’s questions. *Was* it ‘safe’? - Not with… and controlling his own reaction, Berelach did not glance upward to where *’it’* resided as he sadly shook his head. “I’m not even sure *I* know,” he replied darkly. “Things are… not as they ‘seem’, Freawyn, and they don’t really make sense to anyone. - Though…” the Admiral sighed, “Perhaps Radagast has some idea… and Idhrenion.”
Reaching to grip his niece’s shoulder, “What I can tell you is that trouble is brewing - trouble the like of which Middle Earth has not seen in a hundred years.”
Frowning then, “You’re sure those boys weren’t aware you overheard them?” Berelach asked abruptly, recalling his concern for Freawyn over her disappearance. Biting his lip, the Admiral looked warily at the young woman sitting across from him - wondering how she'd take what he had to say.
“Niece,” he said, “I think it would be wise for you to go back to Rohan - at least for a while. Or... perhaps I could send you to one of my ships in Osgiliath, and then join you later..."
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Radagast stood by the window humming a strange melody as he stared out into the night. Saelon whispered to Delagost, “I think we’d best leave Berelach to sort this out for himself. We should leave now and return tomorrow, yes?”
Despite the shock of seeing his *very* old friend appearing without expectation, and his startling news that Borlas had been found (and was safe!), there merest smile ‘twitched’ the corner of Idhrenion’s mouth. - For as quiet as Saelon was speaking, it was yet clear to his elven ears.
When the two young men had left and Berelach had stomped off to his room with Freawyn following, a last rueful look over her shoulder, Idhrenion suggested that he and Radagast remove to Borlas’ room. Radagast smiled and nodded. “Yes, we have much to discuss, my old friend, much that I would trust to no one but you.”
When they had settled in two comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace in the old man’s bedroom, Radagast and Idhrenion began to talk….and they talked and talked. They shared what they both knew and what they needed to plan for. Radagast finished late in the night with, “The two of them are out there, Idhrenion, plotting and scheming to bring back the evil days of Sauron. I heard from my friends, the birds and beasts, where the one known as the “Dark One” was holding the old gentleman. It was little problem to keep track of where he was at any given time and thus to take Borlas from under his very nose. It is his cohort, the one now known as Farvo, that concerns me, however. He disappeared into the north some time ago and I have yet to determine what he is up to.”
Disturbed by what Radagast had told him, Idhrenion thought over what he’d discovered in his readings. “Such was foretold of those two,” he said heavily, “but I did not see that ‘part’ of it in my concern over…” and nodded significantly toward the uppermost floor of Borlas’ house. “I must continue my studies,” the elf went on, “There are intricacies I have not yet fully disseminated, and we must be fully prepared. Perhaps there is something in the writings that will aid Saelon…” he was going to continue on, but then Radagast stood up.
Getting up to stretch his legs, he turned to look at the elf. “I worry for Saelon. He’s playing with fire every time he attends one of Baldir’s meetings. What is he going to do when Baldir asks of him a task that will put his friends and family at risk? And I fear that will happen too soon…too soon.” Sighing, he added, “I think we should persuade Berelach to allow us to take his niece with us when we travel to Minas Tirith. As we will be meeting with the King, we can ask him to place her as a lady-in-waiting to one of his sisters or something like, to keep her safe. Then I think we should have Berelach travel with us to Henneth Annun.”
With a wink, he continued, “And if we can arrange for Saelon to come with us as well, we will at least keep him from Baldir’s scheming plans too.” Stretching his arms above his head, he glanced down at the elf. “Tell me, do you know a decent barn where I can house Shadowlance…and perhaps the two of us could find a thick pile of hay and get some rest ourselves. I feel a need for fresh air and the company of beasts.”
With a smile, “I do,” Idhrenion replied, for ever had his old friend been close to the creatures of Middle Earth. - As well as, after the Gondorian Admiral’s obvious upset, the short-head ellon was sure the man would appreciate a look-in on his father.
Where he took the Maia and his mount, though, was a building on the outskirts of Emyn Arnen… ‘decent’, and yet a place where Idhrenion had noticed few people passed by. “You will be safe from prying eyes here, mellon nín,” he commented, opening the door and breathing in the odor of old straw and somewhat stale air. Several birds scattered at the sudden movement, and a barn owl hooted questioningly at the disturbance of his peace.
Shadowlance had followed, and was seemingly examining his temporary shelter with equine curiosity as, with the gracefulness of his Kind, the elf settled on a bale of hay and watched Radagast calm the winged ones. His thoughts, however, ranged back on their talk once again. Idhrenion had agreed that Eldarion needed to be kept abreast of the situation, and he felt his old friend’s suggestions about the girl and Berelach to be good ones.
But… “What of the Osgiliath Stone, Radagast?” Idhrenion inquired in his quiet voice. “If Borlas’ house is left empty, and he taken because of it’s presence, it would be the perfect time for - ‘them’ - to acquire it. We can not let that happen!”
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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