| dreamdancer |
 RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: August 29, 2008 03:55
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(Here it is... with a joint post with our newest member, Dinen, and a bit of joint post with Hal. If anything needs editing, just let me know ^^ )
The day spent with Cenewith had been a pleasant one for Delagost- despite that he kept bumbling, but it was a delight to be with the kind young woman, though she was shy and quiet. The outing's ending was in the meadow, where he tripped in a hole most gracefully, taking Cen down with him by accident. Without thinking about what he was doing he put a flower in her hair and called her a flower.
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.
"Wouldn't want that," Del said with a lopsided grin, though inwardly he was thinking that it would mean trouble indeed if the *captain* of the guards, Baldir, was sent out to look for her. But, liking her chuckle, "Thank you," he said when she helped him to his feet. He tested his foot to make sure he hadn't twisted it badly in the hole, but it wasn't hurt. However, he could sense her unease, especially when they kept their distance from each other on the walk back to the cart. He inwardly cursed himself for being such a dullard. Now he had made her uncomfortable! Why must he always make a fool of himself?
He offered his hand to aid her into the cart, then climbed in beside her. They were on their way within a moment. After a few minutes of silence, Cenewith spoke.
“Delagost, how well do you know my brother?” she asked unexpectedly, to herself as well as her companion.
Completely shocked by the question, Del felt his breath catch in his throat. He quickly turned his head and coughed to cover that up, but his mind was racing. How could he answer that? Certainly he couldn't tell her what he knew about her brother- the evils Baldir had involved himself in... or, should she know? Should he tell her so she could make sure that she and her Aunt were kept safe? He couldn't imagine harm coming to her.
No... he couldn't betray his friends, and their cause... but, what did her question mean? What had brought it on?
"I... ah... not very well," he said, searching desperately for something to say, "He's my Captain... but... that's where our relationship ends, to tell you the truth. He's... erm.... a busy person. We knew each other as children... " The young man's mind flew back to the bully that Baldir had been, and the beating which had lead to his friendship with Saelon. "But, that was a very long time ago."
He pretended then to be concentrating on the path, not wanting to look at her lest she see that he was lying. Did she know something? Of course, he thought, she was an intelligent young woman. No one could miss the heaviness in the air, especially where Baldir was concerned. Even if she knew no details, how could she not suspect that something was amiss? Del's heart ached for her... to have someone she loved so dearly, being involved in something so dark.... He couldn't imagine how he would handle it. What if she were working at her brother's behest now, trying to see what he knew? Del frowned and inwardly kicked himself for thinking it. Cenewith had nothing to do with Baldir's business... certainly not. How much did she know though... ?
As they approached the house he was thinking of meeting with Saelon and the others later that evening, and of how he would share the tale of his day, when he focused before him and realized he was looking at his Captain. Baldir was here!
He had delt with his Captain many times since the beginning of his 'business' with the king and Saelon- but that had been in official settings, while taking orders as a guard. While off duty he had always avoided the man... and now for Baldir to see him with Cenewith? How would he explain it? And what would it cost her? As the cart rolled to a stop Delagost aided Cen down, his mind racing. What if Baldir had heard something about the new arrivals to the village? Idhrenion, and Radagast...
“Cenewith? And how was your day?” But his narrow-eyed, baleful glare never left Delagost.
Hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt, and suddenly very concerned for Cenewith, "Greetings, Captain," he said, forcing a friendly smile- though Baldir's baleful look made him feel less than cheerful, "I was helping Cenewith with her deliveries today... my mother sent over some things from her garden to be distributed."
Glancing at Cen, "Come lady, I'll help you tend to the pony. It's been a long day for him, I think."
Trying not to look as though he were running away, Delagost nodded respectfully to Baldir and took the pony's reins, leading him to the stable with Cen at his side. Once they were out of sight and earshot (he hoped) and as he began to remove the animal's gear, "Will you be alright, Cenewith?" he asked in a soft voice, looking at her earnestly, "I mean...".
He knew Baldir well enough to fear for her... what would he say to her about her being out with him on this day? Would he hurt her? As badly as Del wanted to leave and not have to face the man, neither did he want to abandon Cenewith. But anything he did or said might jeopardize their secret business... he couldn't let on that he knew anything about Baldir's true intentions. Would he have to risk her safety for the secrecy of their task? Del was finding more and more that the adventures he'd been told about in his youth weren't that exciting when one was in them- more than anything he felt helpless, and not like a hero at all.
After the pony had been tended to and the cart and things put in their places, Delagost left the stable with Cen and saw that Baldir was standing outside the front door expectantly. Wondering what he should do, and fearful that he would say something foolish that would give away himself, and his friends, and all that they had worked for in secret, he glanced over to see if Cenewith had removed the flower he'd given to her.
"Captain," he acknowledged Baldir again, and looking to Cenewith, he wanted to thank her for the day spent in her company, as he had enjoyed it... and he wanted to wish her a peaceful night... but for some reason with Baldir's eyes on him he just couldn't do it. Instead he offered her a polite smile and a nod, but before he could utter a farewell, Baldir told her to go inside, and said that he wanted to speak to Delagost privately.
The young guard stood straight, trying to look impassive and not as worried as he felt. He never liked speaking to Baldir, not since their childhood. It was bad enough that the man was his Captain- what did he want to speak about? Clearing his throat, his eyes followed Cen's slender form as she passed inside, and he looked back to Baldir. Like a good soldier he stood quiet and alert, waiting for his Captain to speak- but inwardly, his mind was racing.
What have I gotten myself into?
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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.”
Falithor made a face of disgust at Baldir's back as he rode off. He didn't think the man had any right to be so snappy, but he supposed he would have to take it in silence now, if he wanted the rewards to follow. He was still reeling from their meeting with the Dark One and he wanted something to ease his nerves. He figured a pint would do it.
Grumbling, and badly wanting an audience, he first dropped off the horse and delivered Baldir's message, then made his way to The Orc's Bane , where he knew his favorite 'lady friend', Rhiannon, would be eager to spend time with him. She was always ready to hear his stories, and she was far too naive to tell anyone what she heard- and even if she wanted to, he knew she wouldn't. She cared for him far too much for that. As he entered the common room he stalked over to his usual table and shed his jacket, dropping into his favorite chair. For a moment he brooded, but then raised his dark head and searched the room for her. When he saw her he smiled charmingly in greeting.
"Rhia," he said, with that same rugged smile, "How about a pint for your favorite sailor?"
Rhiannon, catching Falithor's voice as if it were the only thing that mattered to her in the world, turned her head slightly and beamed at him. She finished serving ale to two rather boisterous menfolk, one of whom attempted to seize her waist.
"Ye know ye'd rather sit wit' us than go stalkin' off and listening to bleak britches o'er there," one of the men scoffed, nodding in Falithor's direction, noting the sailor's brooding.
Rhiannon skilfully avoided his grasping hand and replied gently, "All men need the softening of a woman's touch, that is true, but this night is reserved for one only." She smiled meaningfully into his eyes, poured him another pint, and stifled a laugh as he sucked it down, tottered in his chair, and fell to the ground, drunk as a stone.
His companion snorted with laughter, tipped Rhiannon a wink, and slipped her a silver coin. "No need to thank me, miss," he said lowly with a smirk. "He was far gone when we came here, and 'twas brave of you to put up with him for that long." He stood, touched his hat, and strode out of the tavern, completely sober.
Rhiannon stared with disgust at the man on the floor and was about to call a serving lad to take care of him when the drunk opened his eyes, got on his hands and knees, and heaved convulsively. Rhiannon recoiled and sought solitude with Falithor.
"Now, my dear," she said musically as she sidled up to him, bringing with her a pint of The Orc's Bane's best ale, "what brings you here of all nights? Certainly it wasn't me that brought you here, though a poor girl can hope." She eased onto his lap and glanced at him from under her eyelashes, letting the flickering firelight play off of her green eyes. Falithor's troubled expression spoke volumes to her, and Rhiannon eased off the teasing tone to ask, "What troubles you, Fal? Surely I could help you."
Fal smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and with the other hand lifting the tankard and taking a deep drink of ale. Setting down the tankard with a satisfied sigh, "Why else would it be my favorite inn?" he asked with a mischievous wink. There were other inns with barmaids who were always willing to shower him with affection, but this *was* his favorite inn- it had the best ale on this level, for one thing, and it had Rhia. She certainly was a pretty thing- and she only had eyes for him. What wasn't to like about that?
"Nothing really troubling," he said, "At least, not for me. Just a lot to think about, my sweetling. My fortune has changed- I've made a new friend- if a friend you could call him." Fal chuckled a bit grimly at the thought of Baldir as a friend, and didn't even dare to think of the Dark One as such. "But things are about to start looking up for me. It may take some doing, but I'll get beyond being a mere sailor- one of these days I'll have my *own* ship, maybe my own fleet! I don't know how yet, but things are going to 'change' in Gondor, darling... and 'soon'!"
He took another long drink, not feeling at all 'worried' that what he said to Rhia would get to anyone else. The ale was rich and he took several gulps before putting down the tankard again, and pulled her more fully into his arms. "Then you can say you know a Commodore!"
"Know a Commodore indeed!" Rhiannon smiled meaningfully, running her finger along the underside of Falithor's jaw gently. "What about Admiral?" Her eyes shone with glee. "Would you let me aboard your ship, Fal? And what would she be named? Oh, you must let me come with you!" She had caught onto his enthusiasm and thrived on it.
But as she slid off Fal's lap to refill his tankard, a thought struck her. What kind of business would he be doing? After his last visit with a dark, rather shifty looking man (a conversation Rhiannon herself had been privy to, much to the ignorance of the men), he had paled visibly. "Tell me, Fal," she said, returning with a full tankard. She set it beside him and resumed her position on his lap. "What is it that you are going to be doing in order to get your promotion. Commodore," Rhiannon repeated dreamily, lightly touching his lips with her finger.
Falithor hardly noticed that Rhia now looked troubled. He was loving her doting on him; it eased the strain that had been put on his nerves by Baldir and his new Master. Now that those cold, empty eyes weren't looking at him, he felt he could speak more freely.
"Mostly just what I've always done," Falithor said with a grin, "Watching and listening. If *you* hear anything strange you can let me know, and I'll appreciate it more than you know, love."
Here he buried his nose in her rumpled hair, giving her waist a squeeze and then lightly kissing her shoulder. "Whatever else it takes, then, too... I'm not sure. You remember the stone I told you about? Something to do with that. Something 'big'..."
Thinking again of just what had happened, he drank of the ale again and sighed, remembering that he was supposed to be watchful. His dark eyes darted over the common-room of the 'Bane, but he saw no one looking his way- except Rhiannon. Now he noticed her slightly troubled expression. Pffft. Women. Maybe he had said too much....? But then again, he had no reason to care.
"Don't worry about me, sweetling," Fal said with a lazy smile, "Your Admiral can take care of himself. Just make sure you don't tell anyone what I'm telling you... I trust you."
**********************************************************
Halrohir and Borlas remained at the hunter’s lodge for five days, with Borlas gaining strength and spirit each day, before setting out once more, striking north and west along the line of the Anduin. Having eliminated all trace of their camp and their passing, they rode easily and without haste along little-used paths beneath a canopy of trees, always within sight of the River. Borlas had become accustomed to the easy gait of the mild-tempered horse, Barangil; and as before on their previous journey, Halrohir would fall back, screen them from any pursuit, and rejoin the older man with a burst of long stride from the giant black steed, Morindal. This routine bought them two days’ ride along, until they crossed a stream hurrying west to join Anduin, and began to ascend a long rise into broken ground and thicker wood. Halrohir rode ahead now, no longer checking for pursuit, but alert and intent on the way before him; he would listen, take the scent of the breeze, and lean low over his mount’s neck and shoulder, scanning the path before him, as if expecting to find some sign or trail to follow.
Not far from where the two travelers walked there were others, but they were as no more than shadows passing through the brush. Their movements were quiet and quick, and at times silent and slow, as they searched the earth for signs and tracks that other eyes would miss. Selliren was the leader of the small ranger group; there were four only, set out from Henneth Annuin many days before. Radagast the Brown had left word at the garrison that Halrohir, a fellow ranger, and Borlas, a man they had rescued from danger, would be coming, and that they were to be welcomed and given sanctuary. There were strange, evil things happening, and Sel didn't doubt the wizard for a moment. He knew Halrohir, anyway, though it had been some time since they'd last seen each other- and, it was the possibility of evil following that he and his men had set out.
When they found the signs that Halrohir and his companion had already passed through (difficult to find it had been, too- he inwardly commended his fellow ranger on that), Selliren went to follow them fairly closely, while the others continued to scout the surrounding area for any sign that the travelers had been followed. His thoughts were dark as he went; his father had been a ranger before him, as had been his grandfather, and his great, and great-great grandfather, and on and on up the line of his ancestors- even when there seemed to be peace in Gondor and elsewhere, there was yet always work for rangers. It had always been so, it seemed to him, and the thought was grim. Evil never rested completely... and always it was ready to rise again. It was their duty to protect the innocent.
When it became clear that no one had followed the travelers, the three others returned to Selliren. By now he had given the secret call, the sound of a woodpecker with a slightly off-beat rhythm to its song, to alert Halrohir to his presence. To anyone else it would seem just an unremarkable sound of nature, but to the trained ears of a ranger it was discernable at once as a signal, and Selliren smiled to himself when the answering call came. He deemed the time right to show themselves. Turning, and with the same smile he nodded at his fellows. Without any other warning, they approached the camp.
.
Stepping forward, Selliren raised his hand in greeting, taking in the sight before him with skilled eyes.
.
“Halrohir! We have been awaiting your arrival. Mae govannen- 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.
Turning and looking at Halrohir again, "We've scouted the area in a wide circle- you haven't been followed." His smile widened further, "Except, of course, by us."
[Edited on 29/8/2008 by dreamdancer]
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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: November 18, 2008 09:48
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Cenewith was shocked to see Baldir standing by the door when she and Delagost returned from their outing. Bending her head, her hand lifted long enough to tug the flower from her hair, tucking it in her pocket before they were close enough for Baldir to see her movements. When he greeted her calmly but coldly, she noticed his eyes never left the face of the man at her side. A shiver ran down her spine when Delagost helped her down from the cart as he offered a polite greeting to her brother. When he suggested that he help her with unharnessing the pony cart, she nodded towards her brother and walked quickly to the barn at Delagost’s side.
Once they were out of sight and earshot (he hoped) and as he began to remove the animal’s gear, “Will you be alright, Cenewith?” he asked in a soft voice, looking at her earnestly, “I mean….”
“Of course I will be alright, Delagost. He’s my brother, not some villain,” she answered with an assurance that was the last thing she felt. She had seen the coldness in Baldir’s eyes and it scared her. Resting her small hand on Delagost’s arm she added gently, “Yes, Del, I will be fine. It’s you I worry about. Baldir is very protective of me and I don’t think he was happy to see you with me,” which was an understatement as she thought back to the look in Baldir’s eyes. When they finished hanging the harnesses and watering and feeding the pony, they walked out of the barn towards the house. Baldir was still there, leaning against the side of the house, his legs crossed at his ankles, his arms folded across his chest, a slight smirk on his face.
Before either of them could wish each other a good evening, Baldir told Cenewith to go inside where Aunt Melarin was preparing dinner and could use some help. As Delagost seemed prepared to leave, Baldir held out his arm, blocking his movement. “Stay, Delagost! I wish to speak with you for a moment.”
Conversationally, he said, “I hear there are some strangers in the village. And not just any strangers. An elf? When was the last time anyone here has seen an elf? Very odd. And then there is the arrival of a scruffy, scroungy old dolt, riding a horse much above his stature. Even odder.” He watched Delagost’s expressions closely, seeing barely a flicker of change. It wasn’t until he further commented, “I understand the elf is staying with your family. Now that I find extremely interesting. Where did you meet this elf and why is he here?” For the first time Delagost’s expression changed, a look of distress in his eyes.
Smiling, Baldir went on, “And the old one? Who is he? How comes he here, riding a horse of mythology…or so the boys at the Wild Boar describe him? I am told he asked his way to Borlas’s house. How does he know the elder of our village? I wasn’t aware that Borlas knew anyone outside the village, so long has abided there at the top of the hill without ever leaving.”
Delagost stumbled over his answers, seemingly trying to convince Baldir that he knew little or nothing. Suddenly, Baldir’s cold silver eyes narrowed and his voice became freezing. “I would prefer that you not see my sister again. And be certain you are not late returning for your duty at the end of the month.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the house, closing he door behind him and leaving the young Citadel guard standing on his own.
Striding into the kitchen, he grabbed Cenewith’s arm in a grip that would later leave purple bruises. When Cenewith whimpered, Aunt Melarin stepped forward with a sharp, “Baldir! Let her go at once.” The look he turned on his aunt frightened her so much, she stumbled back, tripping over a chair and bumping into the table. Turning back to Cenewith, his deep voice almost growled as he said, “You will not see that young pup again, do you hear me? Never again!” Tossing her arm from his grasp, he added to both the women, “I will be out this evening and may return to the Citadel directly rather than return here. I only left Minas Tirith because I have business that needs attending and have no time to stay.” He stormed from the room, leaving Cenewith and Melarin staring at each other in shock.
Melarin recovered first and hurried to Cenewith’s side, taking her arm gently into her hand, gazing at the marks left by Baldir‘s fingers. Lifting her eyes to meet Cen’s, shaking her head, “I don’t understand. He has always been an aloof child but he has always loved you dearly. But for him to hurt you this way, I…I just don’t know what to say.” Cenewith stared at the doorway through which her beloved brother had just passed, her face pale and her eyes full of unfallen tears. Something was very wrong, very very wrong, but what it could be escaped her. What was happening to her brother?
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Baldir strode through the fields behind the house towards the Wild Boar, reaching into his pocket to pull out a scribbled note from Bergin, agreeing to the meeting he requested in the rarely used barn north of the village. The problem was that it wasn’t to be until much later in the night and he had hours to kill before then. He decided to eat at the Wild Boar and then spend some time drinking with the local fellows, with the purpose being to question them further. He needed as much information as he could obtain. Had not the Dark One asked him to do this? And whatever the Dark One asked, he must do.
It was not until very late in the night that he made his way on horseback towards the barn. There was only a crescent of moon by which to see yet he saw the shadow of three standing just outside the barn door. Riding up to them, he dismounted and without any greeting he growled, “What are you doing standing out here in the open where you could be seen?”
“Baldir, there isn’t a soul around for miles. Who’s going to see us?” Kamerin asked impudently, followed by Bergin jabbing his elbow into the lad’s ribs. “What was that for?” Kamerin turned and smacked Bergin’s arm, not seeing Baldir’s malevolent glare that was apparent to Bergin and Marein even in the pale light of the moon.
Bergin spoke up, saying, “We only just arrived moments ago, Baldir. Perhaps we should go inside, boys.” He turned Kamerin around and led him towards the barn door, opening it and shoving the none too bright young man inside. Followed by Marein and finally Baldir, they huddled near the doorway while Baldir questioned them on their findings at Mordor.
Taking the lead, Bergin glanced at the other two before saying, “We did as you asked, sir. We crawled down the stairs under the rubble and looked closely at what was buried there. Marein dug near one of them and we found…we found what ‘looked like’ a hand.” At the memory, Bergin shuddered and Marein finished with, “We covered it up at once. It was a hand but unlike any we had ever seen…black and huge with long nails. It was ugly, sir, truly ugly. And it looked like it belonged to a living body.” He too shivered. Only Kamerin seemed to be untouched by the discovery as he laughed at the other two for being so frightened.
After covering the events of their second trip to Mordor, Baldir said, “You did well.” Pulling a small coin bag from his pocket, he handed it to Bergin, telling him to split it between the three. Then he continued, “I have a problem that needs solving. I need something …collected….something important to me. It will require a cart and two horses at least…and the three of you to carry it. I imagine it will be wrapped in cloth and you are to leave it that way. Do not unwrap it under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The three nodded, wondering what this treasure was but waiting patiently, knowing Baldir disliked questions and interruptions.
“It is hidden and under watch…you must look for your opportunity when no one is around. I cannot tell you it’s exact whereabouts, only it’s general location. You will have to search for it.” He was silent for a long moment….long enough for the lads to begin shuffling their feet and glancing at each other. Suddenly, Baldir told them, “It will be in the house of Borlas. You recall the round stone you found in Mordor?? It will be like that only many many times larger. You are to find it, get it to the cart and bring it to the cave where we have met before. Let no one see you take it or where you leave it.” With one last sinister look at the three, he said, “Know that your life depends on this.” That look was enough to convince them he meant exactly that. Nodding, shuffling, they promised they would seek, find and ‘collect’ the large stone for him before they all left the barn, drifting off into the night.
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Radagast had settled into the hay nicely, with Idrenion burrowed next to him. The smell of the barn, the birds and the horses around him, soothed his mind. They had arrived not long before and had been quietly chatting when they both heard footsteps approaching. “Sounds like three, Ren. Who could be coming here at this hour?”
Moments later, the sound of hoof beats were also heard approaching and then the sound of voices. Rad turned his head to a stall near the back and whispered to Shadowlance, “Quiet, my friend, not a sound.” A small snort from the white horse answered and even the quiet munching of oats ceased as the men outside moved closer. When they entered the barn, both Radagast and Idrenion lay breathing almost silently as they listened to the conversation between the four. When they left, Rad stayed where he was for a long moment, listening until he was certain they were not returning, and then sat upright, turning to face Ren.
“May the Valar protect this land. It sounds as though they may have found some viable Uruk-hai. Just what we need added to the scheme of things.” And chuckling softly, he added, “Well, I think their plans answer an unasked question….what to do with the Osgiliath stone. We will have to move it to Minas Tirith with us as soon as possible.” He listened to Ren’s thoughts and they discussed the trip they would be making to the White City. It was becoming quite an expedition, what with the Stone and Berelach’s niece in tow.
“At first light, we must return to Berelach’s and be as forthcoming as possible about as much as we can afford to say. It must be made clear that the niece must accompany us….she is not safe here.” Glancing thru the door at the setting moon, he smiled. “First light is not far off so we should rest now, mellon nin, while we can.” He laid back in the hay, closing his eyes, though his mind was racing.
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At the end of the long evening spent with the elf and the Istar, as well as his friends Delagost and Berelach and Berelach’s niece, Freawyn, Saelon was more than ready to go home. It had all been overwhelming and very tiring. But underlying his thoughts about the evening in general was a certain discomfort apparent in Delagost. His friend had joined in the conversation and offered many ideas but he was distracted by something and Saelon oftimes caught him staring into space. As they wandered down the hill to the gate, Saelon asked, “Delagost, what troubles you? I know there is something more disturbing you than what was discussed this eve. What happened today?”
When Delagost told him of his meeting with Baldir, the questions the Captain of the Citadel Guards asked of him and his stumbling answers where he tried to disclaim any personal knowledge of why these two were here, admitting that Baldir probably didn’t believe a word he said, Saelon stopped short in the middle of the path. “Baldir is here? In the village? But he’s supposed to be on duty this month.” Staring at the sky, glittering with stars and the crescent moon, he had to force himself to stand there and not run back up the hill to take this news to Radagast and Idrenion.
Turning to face Delagost, he sighed deeply before saying, “My friend, I think you should have mentioned this to Radagast and Idrenion. They should know that their presence here is known by the enemy.” Sighing once again, he clapped his hand on Delagost’s shoulder. “Ahh, it can probably wait until morning but I think they should know as soon as possible. But it is late, and we are all tired. Let’s both sleep on it and we’ll meet back here in the morning.”
They continued on their way down the hill and when they reached the gate to the small path, they went their separate ways. As Saelon walked quickly towards home, he reflected on Baldir’s presence in Emyn Arnen at this time, wondering if he would hear from the dark hearted man. Would Baldir ask to see him? And if he did, would he have some task for him to take, one that would put him at odds with those he loved and cared about. Saelon shivered at the thought. He wished he could talk more to Idrenion and Radagast about his unusual position as a spy in Baldir’s camp. Could they help him, advise him? Could they save his neck if he found it in a noose?
Entering the house quietly, he crept to his room where he fell upon his bed without even removing his clothes, asleep in minutes though he had thought his worries would keep him up all night.
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 12, 2008 07:04
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((Okay, I hope this is ok - if I need to edit/change anything, just let me know. I wasn't certain what 'day' Berelach & Freawyn are on, nor the Dark One & Farvo, but I think I have everyone now on the same 'day' lol! Anyway, here it is...))
Berelach had not liked having to tell even as little as he had to his newly-found niece, and fear for her and for them all led him to inquire about what she’d overheard. If *she* had been ‘noticed’…
She gripped his hand, the one on her shoulder. Smiling at him, trying to relieve some of the stress he seemed to be showing, she answered quietly. "I am sure, uncle. I stayed downwind, and undercover. I could hear them, but not clearly. They did not hear or see me."
Relieved, the Gondorian Admiral nodded, and watched silently as Freawyn cleaned up after their breakfast. - And then, he made a suggestion he was certain she would not like. - But, it was her safety he was concerned with. He’d just ‘found’ her, and…
"What!?!" She almost dropped a plate, catching it just in time, right before it shattered on the basin. "Leave? Right after I've found you?" Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes- tears of anger and shock.
She finished her washing, furiously scrubbing at the dishes, then drying and stacking them, making as much noise as possible. Storming off to her room, she made sure that he was aware of her frustration, pulling out her lyre and playing a loud, mournful tune.
Sighing, Berelach knew he’d not done ‘well’ at all… she was angry, he could tell, and the music from above was absolutely depressing to hear. Dragging himself to his feet, he climbed the stairs… gripping the railing to help haul himself up them one-by-one. Outside her door, he paused and then diffidently knocked. “Freawyn?” he called. “Please… don’t be angry, I - I just don‘t want you to be hurt in all this,” the Admiral tried to explain. “After what happened to father, I don’t think I could bear it. - Can - can you understand that?”
Biting his lip, Berelach hoped she would at least open the door and answer him. “Why don’t we spend the day looking around the shops here in Emyn Arnen?” he said. “I hadn’t planned to be here this long and I could use a few more things to wear…”
**************************************
Farvo was keenly interested in what his friend had in ‘mind’. He’d done his ‘part’, he thought… or, at least, he’d contributed to their overall plan with his ‘recruits’.
The Dark One listened carefully as Farvo spoke, careful to betray no hint of emotion. As his old friend finished, the slightest gleam of delight entered the Dark One's eyes.
"So, we have far more in the terms of allies than I had even hoped for... These Hill-men must be brought to our side when the time is right. Too early and it might alert our enemy to the plans already made. You, my friend, must see that they receive word to join us, but not until we are ready to move in greater numbers. I will tell you when to go to them. Now, I have another job for you..."
The Dark One's voice trailed off as his face seemed almost twisted in a sneer of disgust.
"One of my servants has been given a job and has yet to see it through. You must let him know that time is of the essence. Seek out Baldir. He is a Captain of the Citadel Guards. Give him what aid he needs in recovering the Osgiliath-stone. I am sure our enemies know of it by now. The old man was not supposed to escape as he di...."
The Dark One's voice cut off abruptly as if he had revealed something he had not meant to.
"Find Baldir and bring the Osgiliath stone to me."
The Dark One rose abruptly and left the ring of firelight, his figure melding into the shadows of the forest as he walked away.
Frowning now, Farvo’s grey eyes watched as his friend disappeared. Borlas had escaped? - That was *not* ‘good news’ at all!
Wondering how the old man had managed it, Farvo stayed by the fire until it had died down to glowing embers… contemplating what it might mean for their ‘plans’. - Yet, at length, he rose. Baldir of the Citadel Guards, was it? Very well, then. - But, where should he seek out this man? In Minas Tirith?, or elsewhere?
Picking up his staff, he closed his eyes and concentrated… calling on skills that were his alone. - And, after a time, Farvo determined that, no - his quarry was *not* currently in the White City. So be it, he thought, and with his hood and cloak carefully hiding his countenance and form, Farvo, too, left the cave and sought the shadows within the forest. Like a ‘shadow’, he flitted through the trees, traveling as was his habit, caring not about hours or days, until… eventually, he neared a village in the hills between the White Mountains and the Ephel Dúath. - Here it was, he would find this Baldir, or so he’d determined.
Now, Farvo thought, keeping himself hidden as his icy eyes looked at the unassuming town, to divine *where* in this place he would find the Citadel Guard-Captain, for he knew not the man’s visage or form…
*********************************
“Sounds like three, Ren. Who could be coming here at this hour?”
Moments later, the sound of hoof beats were also heard approaching and then the sound of voices. Rad turned his head to a stall near the back and whispered to Shadowlance, “Quiet, my friend, not a sound.” A small snort from the white horse answered and even the quiet munching of oats ceased as the men outside moved closer.
Nodding agreement, their conversation interrupted, Idhrenion nestled down into the hay, barely breathing as they heard the hoof beats cease and the sound of voices.
“What are you doing standing out here in the open where you could be seen?”
“Baldir, there isn’t a soul around for miles. Who’s going to see us?”
“What was that for?”
“We only just arrived moments ago, Baldir. Perhaps we should go inside, boys.”
The barn door creaked, and Idhrenion held his breath. Obviously, this was a clandestine meeting which had been planned, and as he continued to listen, the elf found himself disturbed and concerned, but stayed where he was after the four had left until he heard Radagast’s voice.
“May the Valar protect this land. It sounds as though they may have found some viable Uruk-hai. Just what we need added to the scheme of things.” And chuckling softly, he added, “Well, I think their plans answer an unasked question….what to do with the Osgiliath stone. We will have to move it to Minas Tirith with us as soon as possible.”
Agreeing on both comments, “Indeed we must,” Idhrenion replied. “Perhaps we should leave after sunset tonight. - And, if they are to search Borlas’ house, I think we should get his granddaughter to safety as well. The question is, how to get the stone out of the house. ‘Tis a heavy thing, Radagast, but perhaps between us, and Berelach, Delagost, and Saelon we could manage it. - Fortunately, the chest itself could be explained as ‘supplies’, I think - don’t you?”
He listened to Ren’s thoughts and they discussed the trip they would be making to the White City. It was becoming quite an expedition, what with the Stone and Berelach’s niece in tow.
“At first light, we must return to Berelach’s and be as forthcoming as possible about as much as we can afford to say. It must be made clear that the niece must accompany us….she is not safe here.” Glancing thru the door at the setting moon, he smiled. “First light is not far off so we should rest now, mellon nin, while we can.” He laid back in the hay, closing his eyes
With a small sigh, Idhrenion, too, closed his eyes… and composed himself to drift into his usual elven-sleep. - In his mind, though, he began running over what he’d read in the two books left by Hîr Elrond and Mithrandir. He needed to study them more, he decided, and not for the first time…
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
The sun was barely risen when Idhrenion opened his eyes once again. Waiting for his friend to waken as well, when he had, the elf accompanied Radagast back to Borlas’ small dwelling. There was an ‘air’ about Emyn Arnen, though, that disturbed the elf… more so than just knowing ‘what’ it was that lay in the house’s attic.
Frowning slightly, “Is it just last night’s conversation that is upsetting me, or is it something else, Radagast? - I sense that the ‘uneasiness’ of this place has increased.”
Coming to the house, the ellon knocked, for he heard movement inside. His face was impassive as Berelach opened the door, even as, “Is your niece up yet?” he inquired. “We have much to discuss, we four, and then we must speak with Saelon and Delagost as soon as it can be arranged…”
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| Halrohir |
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 19, 2008 12:34
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(Hoping this is ok... I'm skipping Falithor this time around until Dinen has a chance to post for Rhia  And I hope what I have for Sel is ok... let me know ^_^ )
Unnerved by Baldir's appearance at the house, Delagost expressed his concern for Cen while he helped her with the pony.
Of course I will be alright, Delagost. He’s my brother, not some villain,” she answered Resting her small hand on Delagost’s arm she added gently, “Yes, Del, I will be fine. It’s you I worry about. Baldir is very protective of me and I don’t think he was happy to see you with me,”
"I know he wasn't," Delagost said grimly, feeling quite anxious. Even without the many secrets and all the dark business going on, he would have been alarmed to have a confrontation with Baldir. Even in a pleasant mood, the Captain wasn't someone he wanted to test. Very soon they could drag out their task no longer and went back toward the door. Baldir was still standing there leaning against the wall, the smirk on his face not at all comforting. Almost at once Cen was told to go inside, and Delagost nodded farewell and was prepared to leave, but his captain put out an arm and halted him.
. “Stay, Delagost! I wish to speak with you for a moment.”
"Of course, sir," Del said, gulping nervously and hoping his anxiety didn't show.
Conversationally, he said, “I hear there are some strangers in the village. And not just any strangers. An elf? When was the last time anyone here has seen an elf? Very odd. And then there is the arrival of a scruffy, scroungy old dolt, riding a horse much above his stature. Even odder.” He watched Delagost’s expressions closely, seeing barely a flicker of change. It wasn’t until he further commented, “I understand the elf is staying with your family. Now that I find extremely interesting. Where did you meet this elf and why is he here?”
Delagost had been growing more and more nervous, but he had managed to hold the expression of having no idea who Baldir was speaking of. However, when it was revealed that he knew Idhrenion had stayed at Del's own home, he couldn't help the wave of fear that pounded into his heart and showed in his eyes. What could he say?
Smiling, Baldir went on, “And the old one? Who is he? How comes he here, riding a horse of mythology…or so the boys at the Wild Boar describe him? I am told he asked his way to Borlas’s house. How does he know the elder of our village? I wasn’t aware that Borlas knew anyone outside the village, so long has abided there at the top of the hill without ever leaving.”
"The- ah- the elf, Captain, you see, sir, came into the Boar... and I greeted him... hoping for-for stories, you know, everyone knows I like folklore sir... I offered a room at my home... I mean... why would an elf want to stay in a common inn? I thought... it seemed like the right thing ... something noble to do, you see... and my sister has a keen love of elvish things..."
Resisting the urge to tug at his collar (he felt incredibly hot and uncomfortable), "I don't have a clue about the old man, or why he'd be looking for- for Borlas. I have not seen any sign such a rider, sir... or Borlas, for some time. I suppose- well, I suppose my attention has been elsewhere. And the fellows at the Boar... well, I would take anything they say with a grain of salt."
Suddenly, Baldir’s cold silver eyes narrowed and his voice became freezing. “I would prefer that you not see my sister again. And be certain you are not late returning for your duty at the end of the month.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the house, closing he door behind him and leaving the young Citadel guard standing on his own.
The coldness of Baldir's voice left Del feeling shaken and afraid. The look in his eyes had threatened much worse than an interrogation or scolding should he be caught with Cen again. He turned slowly away from the house, and he could hear his Captain's voice. It was muffled and he couldn't tell what was said, but he was sure Baldir was speaking harshly to his sister. Del's shoulders drooped and he hurried down the path, not wanting to be caught outside, and feeling horrible for having gotten himself and the gentle woman into such a mess.
He was distracted and downtrodden when he came to Berelach's house. In the back of his mind he knew he needed to confess what had happened, but somehow he kept talking himself out of telling anyone about his confrontation with Baldir. Maybe he could speak to Idhrenion or Radagast privately, instead of having to speak of it with everyone at once. Or Saelon, his best friend, first.
As they were leaving the house Del's thoughts were with Cen once again, and Saelon broke the silence.
“Delagost, what troubles you? I know there is something more disturbing you than what was discussed this eve. What happened today?”
Letting out a breathe, "I fear that I've gone and muddled things beyond repair," he said, and went on to explain what had happened, noting with a red face how poorly he had handled the questions. "Baldir did not believe a thing I said, I am sure of it."
Saelon came to an abrupt halt.
“Baldir is here? In the village? But he’s supposed to be on duty this month.” Staring at the sky, glittering with stars and the crescent moon, he had to force himself to stand there and not run back up the hill to take this news to Radagast and Idrenion.
Turning to face Delagost, he sighed deeply before saying, “My friend, I think you should have mentioned this to Radagast and Idrenion. They should know that their presence here is known by the enemy.” Sighing once again, he clapped his hand on Delagost’s shoulder. “Ahh, it can probably wait until morning but I think they should know as soon as possible. But it is late, and we are all tired. Let’s both sleep on it and we’ll meet back here in the morning.”
"If there's any sleep to be had," Del said solemnly, "Baldir has eyes and ears all over the village. it would seem. You take care too, Saelon."
When they parted ways Delagost went back to his house, feeling more anxious than ever. He was fearful that Baldir was watching him now, or had some of the fools from the Boar doing so. The young man slowed his gait and stopped to peer around him in the darkness, then back toward Berelach's. Perhaps it couldn't wait. Perhaps he should go back now, and they should make up their mind on their plan and leave this very night... but, to do so now would surely draw attention. With a soft curse he continued on his way again. When he came home he was half afraid he would find the inside of the house in shambles and his family hurt- but they were fine, all in bed except for his mother who had been waiting for him and keeping supper warm.
"Mother, there was no need," he said with a smile, "But thank you."
"What troubles you, son?" she asked, touching his shoulder, "Did something happen?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," he kissed her brow and hugged her gently, "I'll eat a bite before I lie down to sleep, I promise."
She went to bed at last and he sat in the kitchen for a long while awake, picking at the food and watching the flickering of the candle light. He didn't feel safe sleeping. Perhaps he was overreacting, but he could not forget the coldness in Baldir's eyes. In his foolishness he had put the Captain on alert... he would be more suspicious now than ever.
Eventually Delagost fell asleep at the table with his head resting in his arms, the plate of food on the floor for the dog.
Early in the morning he was shaken awake by his mother who scolded him lovingly and sent him to wash up and rest in bed, and for a little while he did, but his mind was busy and he finally dressed. After breakfast he made for Berelach's house. He had to tell the others of the new development, though he cringed at the thought.
He found Radagast and Idhrenion standing outside and greeting Berelach good morning. Del was a bit worried not to see Saelon. He hoped that his friend was alright, and hadn't been drawn into some of Baldir's business. He feared greatly that Sael would find himself in peril being the double agent he was.
Coming up he followed them inside. As soon as the door was shut he looked out the window as though to see if anyone had followed, then began to speak.
"Baldir is in Emyn Arnen, and he knows you're both here," he said, "And I'm afraid he guesses much...."
Shamefacedly he went on to tell them quickly what he had told Saelon, and kept watching for his friend's approach....
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Selliren and his rangers decided to make camp with Borlas before going any further. The three of them had been out scouting long, and he figured that the rescued man could use the rest as well.
Halrohir bade them all farewell, for he had other business to see to, and needed to leave them. Sel sent him off with the wish of a safe journey. Standing quietly, Selliren watched his fellow ranger vanish easily into the trees. His thoughts wandered to Radagast and his words. Things were about to start happening, the ranger suspected, and once events- whatever they turned out to be- began to unfold, things would happen ever more quickly.
With a wan smile, he went back to where the others had started a small fire and had a meal cooking.
"In the morning we'll continue on." he said, and offered Borlas a water skin, "How are you faring now?"
Two of the other three men slipped off with a quiet word to take the watch. Even so close to Henneth Anuin, they could not let their guard down.
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 23, 2008 04:13
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The sun was barely topping the hills to the east when Radagast opened his eyes to see Idhrenion already sitting up and alert. "I envy you elves, never having to waste valuable time sleeping," he said with a chuckle. "To Borlas' house....let us move." Leaving Shadowlance resting quietly in the barn, the two walked probably more quickly than they would have intended to reach the stone cottage on the top of the hill.
When Ithrenion asked, "Is it just last night's conversation that is upsetting me, or is it something else, Radagast? - I sense that the 'uneasiness' of this place has increased," Radagast glanced at him with a frown on his face. "Wait, Idhrenion, until we reach the house. I find I do not wish to repeat myself." It was obvious though that he agreed with the elf, feeling the same dis-ease, but in his case, knowing the reason for it.
Berelach opened the door...Idhrenion asked if Freawyn was up and suggested they must speak. Hardly had they entered the house when a second knock was heard. When the door was opened, Delagost almost tumbled into the house, so urgent was his need to tell them his own news. "Baldir is in Emyn Arnen, and he knows you're both here," he said, "And I'm afraid he guesses much...."
Radagast shared a knowing glance with Idhrenion and listened closely to the boy's description of his conversation with Baldir the night before. He had barely finished when Saelon burst through the door, crying out, "Has Del told you everything?" Radagast hid a smile from curling his lips as he answered, "Yes, Saelon, he has....and the time has come to talk." Turning to Freawyn, who he had noticed standing in the shadow of the doorway, he smiled a gentle smile.
"Freawyn, my child, will you get a pot of tea started. Gentlemen, I suggest we move to the eating room where we can sit around the table and discuss what it is necessary for you all to know." The men all rose to their feet and followed Freawyn to the eating room and gathered around the table, while Freawyn added water to a pot and set it on the stove before moving to the cupboard to bring out the mugs and sweetening. Saelon rose and hurried to help her before sitting down again, eager to hear what Radagast had to say.
With a deep sigh, Radagast began. "I know you have all heard the lore about a 'wizard' named Gandalf, who came to the aid of the men of Middle-Earth during the War of the Ring. And....those tales of the 'fallen wizard', Saruman, once of Isengard." Glancing around at the people in the room, he noted the nods of their heads and continued. "I think the time has come for a bit of history...history which is little known to the world today as it was unknown to those a century ago. But I feel you must understand what we are facing."
Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, he began. "Millenia ago, five of what you know as 'wizards' were sent from Valinor to aid and support the elves and men of Middle-Earth. Two of them were known to you as Saruman and Gandalf. Two, the Blue Ithryn, arrived and vanished into the far east of the world, never to be seen again. The fifth one...." and here he allowed the soft smile to appear, "The fifth one is sitting here now, telling you this tale." He waited as surprise and awe covered all their faces but for Idhrenion's before going on. "Sadly, I never lived up to Yavanna Kementari's wish for me. Rather than dealing with the men and elves, I chose to become a friend of the birds and beasts, the flora and fauna, of Middle-Earth. But as the only 'wizard' who still believes in the dominion of men, in the good that still lives in this world, it is time that I step forward and carry out the task that was mine."
Freawyn had by this time poured the tea for them all, and Radagast took time to sweeten his tea and take a sip before continuing. But after sipping his tea, he sighed and exhaled slowly. "The problem we are all facing, the evil that fills the air around is, is real, and I am disheartened to say that it finds its source in the two 'wizards' I mentioned earlier. Their names were Pallando and Alatar. They now go by false names."
"One, Saelon, you know well from your association with Baldir....which reminds me, I feel I must say at this juncture that you are playing a dangerous game. We must talk about that..but later." Saelon nodded, for hadn't he himself hoped for just this type of converse with the elf and...and...the 'WIZARD'?? He still hadn't gotten over that admission on the part of Radagast. But he was speaking again.
"One, Pallando, is now known only as the DarkOne. His cohort, Alatar, goes by the name Farvo. Together the represent the greatest danger to our world since Sauron. Why? Because they fell to his evil even before the great war. We," and here he nodded at Idhrenion, "suspect that they were founders or beginners of secret cults and 'magic' traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron." ** We think they are gathering an army together to attack the royal center of Middle-Earth, Minas Tirith. Many of the warriors they will bring against the White City will be re-incarnation of the Uruk Hai, living remains of which they have already found in the ruins of Mordor. Others may be unknown men of the far east who have become minions of the pair. We know not where else they have dug up the dregs of evil but they will, believe us, they will."
Turning to face Berelach and Freawyn, sitting side by side, he spoke clearly. "Berelach, we must load the stone this morning if Saelon can borrow a cart and horse from his father's shed. We must move it to Minas Tirith and into the safekeeping of Eldarion" Although Radagast was not looking in his direction, Saelon nodded furiously, mumbling, "I'll get one."
Radagast looked sternly at Freawyn and added, "And you, my child, must also travel with us to the city ... for your own safety. We will place you also in the care of the King. And there will be no argument, you must go. Berelach, Delagost, Saelon," he turned to the men, "it will take all of us to load the stone as it is very large, nothing that can be held in a hand as the one those young men handed over to Baldir, Saelon."
"And since we'd," here he once again acknowledged Idhrenion, "like to keep you, Saelon, from harm's way....and Berelach, we'd like to take you to your father after we deliver the stone and Freawyn, we'd like you both to come with us. Delagost, I don't know whether it would be better for you to come with us as well, or whether we should leave you here to keep an eye on activities here." Another great sigh was expelled before Radagast finished with, "That is our position as of now. I believe Farvo .. or Alatar .. is close by...I feel his presence. But let me give Idhrenion a chance to speak. He has the prophecies with him and may be able to add to our knowledge as well as offer good advice. Then you may ask as many questions as you like, only I would suggest that you ask them on the road to Minas Tirith. There is no time to waste removing ourselves from here.
** direct quote from the Unfinished Tales.
[Edited on 24/12/2008 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: December 28, 2008 12:10
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((Okay, hopefully this gets us moving! I've tried to give everyone something to work with, but if I need to edit, just let me know!))
The sun was barely topping the hills to the east when Radagast opened his eyes to see Idhrenion already sitting up and alert. "I envy you elves, never having to waste valuable time sleeping," he said with a chuckle. "To Borlas' house....let us move." Leaving Shadowlance resting quietly in the barn, the two walked probably more quickly than they would have intended to reach the stone cottage on the top of the hill.
From the time they left the barn, Idhrenion felt a ‘strangeness’ in the air about them… a feeling that grew until he could remain silent about it no longer, and asked his companion about it.
Radagast glanced at him with a frown on his face. "Wait, Idhrenion, until we reach the house. I find I do not wish to repeat myself." It was obvious though that he agreed with the elf, feeling the same dis-ease, but in his case, knowing the reason for it.
Berelach opened the door...Idhrenion asked if Freawyn was up and suggested they must speak. Hardly had they entered the house when a second knock was heard. When the door was opened, Delagost almost tumbled into the house, so urgent was his need to tell them his own news. "Baldir is in Emyn Arnen, and he knows you're both here," he said, "And I'm afraid he guesses much...."
Returning Radagast’s glance, the elven scholar’s hazel eyes were ‘intent’ on Delagost, and then Saelon arrived on the heels of the Citadel guard’s words. He did not ‘like’ that the one identifiable enemy was aware of his and the wizard’s presence. He did not fault the young man - not all Humans were adept at hiding their thoughts from others…
Saelon burst through the door, crying out, "Has Del told you everything?" Radagast hid a smile from curling his lips as he answered, "Yes, Saelon, he has....and the time has come to talk." Turning to Freawyn, who he had noticed standing in the shadow of the doorway, he smiled a gentle smile.
"Freawyn, my child, will you get a pot of tea started. Gentlemen, I suggest we move to the eating room where we can sit around the table and discuss what it is necessary for you all to know." The men all rose to their feet and followed Freawyn to the eating room and gathered around the table, while Freawyn added water to a pot and set it on the stove before moving to the cupboard to bring out the mugs and sweetening. Saelon rose and hurried to help her before sitting down again, eager to hear what Radagast had to say.
Berelach was definitely unhappy with what he was hearing, and as he accompanied his niece and the others to the other room, he could only trust to Radagast that his father was yet ‘safe’. - He wasn’t yet sure that Freawyn believed he’d only *her* safety in mind from his suggestion, but quietly settled into a chair to listen to the old man speak…
With a deep sigh, Radagast began. "I know you have all heard the lore about a 'wizard' named Gandalf, who came to the aid of the men of Middle-Earth during the War of the Ring. And....those tales of the 'fallen wizard', Saruman, once of Isengard." Glancing around at the people in the room, he noted the nods of their heads and continued. "I think the time has come for a bit of history...history which is little known to the world today as it was unknown to those a century ago. But I feel you must understand what we are facing."
’Indeed!’ Idhrenion thought dryly to himself, and in part ‘aware’ of what Radagast was saying, kept his attention on Saelon, and Delagost, and Berelach, and Freawyn as the explanation came forth.
But as the only 'wizard' who still believes in the dominion of men, in the good that still lives in this world, it is time that I step forward and carry out the task that was mine."
Freawyn had by this time poured the tea for them all, and Radagast took time to sweeten his tea and take a sip before continuing. But after sipping his tea, he sighed and exhaled slowly. "The problem we are all facing, the evil that fills the air around is, is real, and I am disheartened to say that it finds its source in the two 'wizards' I mentioned earlier. Their names were Pallando and Alatar. They now go by false names."
Awed at the true identity of the bearded figure, Berelach took too large a sip of his tea and burned the roof of his mouth. - But, glancing at Saelon, he wondered *how* they could fight two wizards… but Radagast was continuing on.
"One, Saelon, you know well from your association with Baldir....which reminds me, I feel I must say at this juncture that you are playing a dangerous game. We must talk about that..but later."
"One, Pallando, is now known only as the DarkOne. His cohort, Alatar, goes by the name Farvo. Together the represent the greatest danger to our world since Sauron. Why? Because they fell to his evil even before the great war. We," and here he nodded at Idhrenion, "suspect that they were founders or beginners of secret cults and 'magic' traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron." ** We think they are gathering an army together to attack the royal center of Middle-Earth, Minas Tirith. Many of the warriors they will bring against the White City will be re-incarnation of the Uruk Hai, living remains of which they have already found in the ruins of Mordor. Others may be unknown men of the far east who have become minions of the pair. We know not where else they have dug up the dregs of evil but they will, believe us, they will."
Turning to face Berelach and Freawyn, sitting side by side, he spoke clearly. "Berelach, we must load the stone this morning if Saelon can borrow a cart and horse from his father's shed. We must move it to Minas Tirith and into the safekeeping of Eldarion" Although Radagast was not looking in his direction, Saelon nodded furiously, mumbling, "I'll get one."
Radagast looked sternly at Freawyn and added, "And you, my child, must also travel with us to the city ... for your own safety. We will place you also in the care of the King. And there will be no argument, you must go. Berelach, Delagost, Saelon," he turned to the men, "it will take all of us to load the stone as it is very large, nothing that can be held in a hand as the one those young men handed over to Baldir, Saelon."
Feeling dizzy from all this, Berelach nodded at the Maia’s orders to him. - Yet, he couldn’t help but be grateful the wizard had (without knowing the Admiral had done so?) ‘echoed’ his suggestion to Freawyn - though in a much ‘firmer’ fashion. Touching his niece’s arm, “Do you believe me now?” he quietly asked, hoping she’d forgive his blundering attempts to convince her.
"And since we'd," here he once again acknowledged Idhrenion, "like to keep you, Saelon, from harm's way....and Berelach, we'd like to take you to your father after we deliver the stone and Freawyn, we'd like you both to come with us. Delagost, I don't know whether it would be better for you to come with us as well, or whether we should leave you here to keep an eye on activities here." Another great sigh was expelled before Radagast finished with, "That is our position as of now. I believe Farvo .. or Alatar .. is close by...I feel his presence. But let me give Idhrenion a chance to speak. He has the prophecies with him and may be able to add to our knowledge as well as offer good advice. Then you may ask as many questions as you like, only I would suggest that you ask them on the road to Minas Tirith. There is no time to waste removing ourselves from here.
As soon as Radagast had mentioned the Ithryn Luin (Blue Wizards), Idhrenion new instantly *why* he’d ‘felt’ what he had. There had been the ‘familiarity’ of power akin to Radagast’s own, as well as the ‘unease’ of evil. Yes… one or the other of the two were ‘near’, of that, the ellon was certain.
As several sets of eyes were turned in his direction, the elf kept his face impassive. - Oh, he had the books with him, that was true, but in light of Radagast’s words, Idhrenion dearly wanted to reread a good bit of them both before saying too much. - But, recalling one of the more enigmatic passages, he considered what had been written. ‘Gosto i dhúath. Gosto i Gyll Luin gwethrennin na ‘uruthos.’.
At length, Idhrenion spoke. “There is one sentence that now makes sense to me,” he said, and translated the quote he’d been pondering. “’Fear the shadows. Fear the Blue Cloaks veiled with darkness.’ I think this must be a direct reference as to who is behind this new Shadow. - But, I must study more on this…”
Setting down his cup, and with a shiver running down his spine, “I think the sooner we can get out of Emyn Arnen, the better,” Berelach commented. He’d been quite relieved at Radagast’s suggestion of seeing his father, and was as eager to leave on that score as anything else.
Looking at Saelon, “How soon can you be back with a cart?” he asked, and to Freawyn, “I promise, niece, when it’s safe to, that you will see your grandfather. I think after all these years, and all that’s happened, Borlas will welcome you.“ He then waited to hear what Delagost would do…
~@~@~@~@~
A flurry of quiet activity then ensued, as preparations were made to get them all out of Emyn Arnen.
On the pretext of replenishing Borlas’ shelves, Berelach took Freawyn shopping with him for supplies. - A bit wryly to his niece, “I can have a fleet of ships stocked with no problem, but overland travel is not much in my ken,” he explained to her, and relied on Freawyn’s suggestions for what was best.
If they were looked at ‘oddly’ for their wants, the Admiral merely winked and grinned. “If father’s not back soon, I don’t want anything to spoil,” he explained, and then went on to the next place.
Idhrenion returned to Delagost’s house, and gravely thanked the man’s parents for housing him, and after packing quickly (he’d not much, anyway), the elf spent some time with Mirien, giving the girl some more pointers on her elvish. When it was time for him to leave, Idhrenion smiled at her encouragingly. “You are learning well, pen dithen (little one),” he told her, and honestly added he’d miss Mirien. “Perhaps, one day, I will return,” the elf commented, but did not commit to it. He couldn’t - not now, anyway…
It took himself, and all the men, and Radagast to manhandle the chest down the stairs from Borlas’ attic and onto the cart… Freawyn directing their progress. A heavy tarp was thrown over it, and secured with ropes, and then the supplies were loaded. To (hopefully) direct ‘attention’ away from the covered object, as the group headed out, Idhrenion settled himself in the cart with his back against it, and pulled out his books. He’d be jolted quite a bit, the road being somewhat rough, but the elf cared not as he concentrated on his studies.
Astride Idhrenion’s mount, since the scholar had offered it to him, Berelach almost expected ‘something’ or ‘someone’ to jump out at them from behind every tree they passed. He’d not feel easy until their ‘cargo’ was safely in King Eldarion’s care…
"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 05, 2009 08:56
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(Hope this is ok... I'm up writing way after my bedtime, so not sure its all coherent XD No Fal or Sel here this time )
Delagost had hurried to Berelach's, sputtering out his news as swiftly as he was inside. He was worried and impatient and when Saelon burst in he nearly fainted from fright, but was then immensely relieved to know his friend was alright.
"Has Del told you everything?" Radagast hid a smile from curling his lips as he answered, "Yes, Saelon, he has....and the time has come to talk." Turning to Freawyn, who he had noticed standing in the shadow of the doorway, he smiled a gentle smile.
"Freawyn, my child, will you get a pot of tea started. Gentlemen, I suggest we move to the eating room where we can sit around the table and discuss what it is necessary for you all to know."
Delagost followed the others to the eating room and sat down heavily. He was still groggy and his mind was racing over far too many thoughts for one morning, burdened with worry and fear. Quietly he waited as Freawyn began making tea, gazing at his hands where they rested on the table.
With a deep sigh, Radagast began. "I know you have all heard the lore about a 'wizard' named Gandalf, who came to the aid of the men of Middle-Earth during the War of the Ring. And....those tales of the 'fallen wizard', Saruman, once of Isengard." Glancing around at the people in the room, he noted the nods of their heads and continued. "I think the time has come for a bit of history...history which is little known to the world today as it was unknown to those a century ago. But I feel you must understand what we are facing."
Delagost knew about Gandalf and Saruman, of course... it was his hobby to study the stories of old, the times of the War of the Ring... the heroes of that age had been what inspired him since his childhood. But he didn't like what the old man was getting at. He found himself tapping a finger nervously against his knee.
Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, he began. "Millenia ago, five of what you know as 'wizards' were sent from Valinor to aid and support the elves and men of Middle-Earth. Two of them were known to you as Saruman and Gandalf. Two, the Blue Ithryn, arrived and vanished into the far east of the world, never to be seen again. The fifth one...." and here he allowed the soft smile to appear, "The fifth one is sitting here now, telling you this tale."
Delagost's jaw dropped and he didn't even attempt to hide his surprise. This was one of the wizards... sitting at this very table, drinking tea with the lot of them? He shook his head. Truly he now felt like he'd been pulled into one of the stories from his boyhood. What stories Radagast might be able to tell him! What tales of the old days, what things he must have seen .... but then the young man's wonder was replaced by a solemn expression. This meant that things were far more serious than even he had dared to think.
"Sadly, I never lived up to Yavanna Kementari's wish for me. Rather than dealing with the men and elves, I chose to become a friend of the birds and beasts, the flora and fauna, of Middle-Earth. But as the only 'wizard' who still believes in the dominion of men, in the good that still lives in this world, it is time that I step forward and carry out the task that was mine."
Delagost was eager to hear more, and as the wizard took the time to sweeten and taste his tea the young man was stirring his almost absent mindedly. He was decidedly not thirsty, and anxious for the old man- the wizard- to continue.
But after sipping his tea, he sighed and exhaled slowly. "The problem we are all facing, the evil that fills the air around is, is real, and I am disheartened to say that it finds its source in the two 'wizards' I mentioned earlier. Their names were Pallando and Alatar. They now go by false names."
"One, Saelon, you know well from your association with Baldir....which reminds me, I feel I must say at this juncture that you are playing a dangerous game. We must talk about that..but later." Saelon nodded.
"One, Pallando, is now known only as the DarkOne. His cohort, Alatar, goes by the name Farvo. Together the represent the greatest danger to our world since Sauron. Why? Because they fell to his evil even before the great war. We," and here he nodded at Idhrenion, "suspect that they were founders or beginners of secret cults and 'magic' traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron." ** We think they are gathering an army together to attack the royal center of Middle-Earth, Minas Tirith. Many of the warriors they will bring against the White City will be re-incarnation of the Uruk Hai, living remains of which they have already found in the ruins of Mordor. Others may be unknown men of the far east who have become minions of the pair. We know not where else they have dug up the dregs of evil but they will, believe us, they will."
Delagost sat back, feeling quite overwhelmed. All this time Saelon had been playing a dangerous game- a very dangerous one. Two wizards... who had fallen to Sauron... and Baldir served them. He thought of Baldir's position in the city, all of the information about Minas Tirith he could supply for such an attack... and Cenewith. The danger was not only to their small group, or their families, or even to Emyn Arnen; the danger was to Minas Tirith and all its people, to Middle Earth as they knew it. How much damage had he done the day before in his confrontation with the Captain....?
Turning to face Berelach and Freawyn, sitting side by side, he spoke clearly. "Berelach, we must load the stone this morning if Saelon can borrow a cart and horse from his father's shed. We must move it to Minas Tirith and into the safekeeping of Eldarion" Although Radagast was not looking in his direction, Saelon nodded furiously, mumbling, "I'll get one."
Radagast looked sternly at Freawyn and added, "And you, my child, must also travel with us to the city ... for your own safety. We will place you also in the care of the King. And there will be no argument, you must go. Berelach, Delagost, Saelon," he turned to the men, "it will take all of us to load the stone as it is very large, nothing that can be held in a hand as the one those young men handed over to Baldir, Saelon."
"And since we'd," here he once again acknowledged Idhrenion, "like to keep you, Saelon, from harm's way....and Berelach, we'd like to take you to your father after we deliver the stone and Freawyn, we'd like you both to come with us. Delagost, I don't know whether it would be better for you to come with us as well, or whether we should leave you here to keep an eye on activities here." Another great sigh was expelled before Radagast finished with, "That is our position as of now. I believe Farvo .. or Alatar .. is close by...I feel his presence. But let me give Idhrenion a chance to speak. He has the prophecies with him and may be able to add to our knowledge as well as offer good advice. Then you may ask as many questions as you like, only I would suggest that you ask them on the road to Minas Tirith. There is no time to waste removing ourselves from here."
Delagost was torn. To go or stay? He felt compelled to go; if he stayed here he might only cause more damage, and he could not afford that. Plus, if there was a confrontation on the road to Minas Tirith, every sword would be needed. Sighing, and shaking his head, he turned his eyes on the elf. He thought no longer of his boyish wish for stories... he wished now only for answers.
At length, Idhrenion spoke. “There is one sentence that now makes sense to me,” he said, and translated the quote he’d been pondering. “’Fear the shadows. Fear the Blue Cloaks veiled with darkness.’ I think this must be a direct reference as to who is behind this new Shadow. - But, I must study more on this…”
Setting down his cup, and with a shiver running down his spine, “I think the sooner we can get out of Emyn Arnen, the better,” Berelach commented.
Looking at Saelon, “How soon can you be back with a cart?” he asked, and to Freawyn, “I promise, niece, when it’s safe to, that you will see your grandfather. I think after all these years, and all that’s happened, Borlas will welcome you.“ He then waited to hear what Delagost would do…
"I'm coming with you," he said, "As a citadel guard I can get us to Lord Eldarion without drawing too much notice- I hope- and I should feel better for all of you if I come along. I must go home and fetch some things first, and let my family know I am leaving so they won't worry."
With agreements to meet back at Berelach's as soon as possible, Delagost walked home, though not with Idhrenion. He kept his pace steady, trying not to look as disturbed as he felt. He arrived after the elf and moved to gather his own things together, aware of the unease in his family as he threw a few belongings in his travel pack. As he was explaining to his parents that he had to leave and begging them to take care, and to lock the doors at night, he heard the elf bidding his little sister farewell.
. “You are learning well, pen dithen (little one),” he told her, and honestly added he’d miss Mirien. “Perhaps, one day, I will return,” the elf commented,
"I hope so," Mirien said, quite downcast since both the elf and her brother were leaving, "Be careful, promise me?"
"We will be," Del said, and kissed his sister's brow, "You too, little one. And don't worry- I'll be back soon enough, with or without Idhrenion."
He shared a joking smile with their guest but his heart wasn't behind it. With some final farewells they left, but Del walked another path, telling Ren that he needed to pick something up, and it was best if they weren't spotted walking together anyway. As he was going along he saw what he had really hoped to see- Cenewith, coming out of one of the houses she always visited, an empty basket in her hand. Catching his breath, he looked around to make sure no one - especially Baldir- was around, and then he approached her.
"Cenewith!" he said, and beckoned for her to follow him behind the shed outside the house she had just left. There was fear in her eyes but whether it was fear for herself or for him, he couldn't guess.
"I must leave Emyn Arnen again," he said softly, "And I just wanted to let you know..."
As he spoke he reached down to take her hand, and his eyes caught sight of the bruises on her arm. His voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he raised her arm to look at them- they were clearly in the shape of a hand. "Oh my dear Cenewith... did... did Baldir do this? How badly are you hurt....?
"
His brow furrowing, the fear of Baldir in his heart was mingled with sudden anger. He knew it had been the Captain... how could the man hurt his own sister, a woman as gentle as this one? At least now he felt certain that Cen knew nothing of her brother's evil business. His anger and the desire to protect the young woman was so strong that if Baldir had been there at that moment, Del would have been able to draw his sword and fight the man, despite he was less skilled in battle ... but, Baldir was not there, and he had to hurry now back to Berelach's.
"I have to go," he said, sighing heavily, "I ... I don't know what's going to happen, Cenewith, but promise me that you will be careful... please. Just take care of yourself."
Without pausing to think about it he bent and kissed her cheek, pulling her into a gentle hug and breathing in the scent of her hair for a moment before releasing her. "I will be thinking of you," he said softly, then turned and hurried down the path without looking back. He prayed he hadn't been seen. Normally he would have been mumbling, bumbling, blushing like a fool, but things were serious. He wanted to help Cenewith, but he didn't know what to do- and above all else, they had to get the Stone to the White City.
It took all of them to wrestle the chest down the stairs of the house and out onto the cart, Freawyn directing them. Delagost let out a soft curse as they dropped it, certain that it would have been easier to carry down a horse. They threw a heavy tarp over the chest and tied it down with ropes, and then supplies were loaded, many on top of the tarp.
They headed out of Emyn Arnen soon after, Delagost riding his own horse and watching the path uneasily. He feared every moment that they were being watched, especially after what he had accidentally revealed to Baldir. Their progress wasn't too fast, but they saw no one on the road save for the usual traffic between the city and the village. As evening fell Del began to imagine Uruk Hai or worse things coming out of the lengthening shadows and dragging down their horses, but he said nothing of his worries and steeled himself to go on. He was a guard of the citadel, a warrior, and he wouldn't let himself cower- he couldn't. The courage of their small group was important now...
The stars were beginning to glitter when the company approached the gates of Minas Tirith. It seemed no time at all since Delagost had been here- and indeed, it hadn't been long at all- but he wasn't relaxing yet, for they had not made it into the city... but then, he doubted he would be able to relax even once the Palantir was in the hands of the king.
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| Merides |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: January 14, 2009 01:07
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"Freawyn, my child, will you get a pot of tea started. Gentlemen, I suggest we move to the eating room where we can sit around the table and discuss what it is necessary for you all to know." The men all rose to their feet and followed Freawyn to the eating room and gathered around the table, while Freawyn added water to a pot and set it on the stove before moving to the cupboard to bring out the mugs and sweetening. Saelon rose and hurried to help her before sitting down again, eager to hear what Radagast had to say.
Smiling her thanks at Saelon, Freawyn served the tea as Radagast spoke. She was surprised at Radagast’s admission of being a wizard, and confused about the mentioning of a ‘stone’ and the other two wizards. Had she truly been in that much danger when she had followed the three men? Turning to face Berelach and Freawyn, sitting side by side, he spoke clearly. "Berelach, we must load the stone this morning if Saelon can borrow a cart and horse from his father's shed. We must move it to Minas Tirith and into the safekeeping of Eldarion" Radagast looked sternly at Freawyn and added, "And you, my child, must also travel with us to the city ... for your own safety. We will place you also in the care of the King. And there will be no argument, you must go." Her eyes wide, Freawyn nodded. “I will go,” she whispered. The entire situation was obviously far more dangerous that what she had originally thought. Berelach quietly touched his niece’s arm, saying, “Do you believe me now?” Freawyn nodded at him. They all agreed to meet soon at the house, after gathering much-needed provisions.
On the pretext of replenishing Borlas’ shelves, Berelach took Freawyn shopping with him for supplies. - A bit wryly to his niece, “I can have a fleet of ships stocked with no problem, but overland travel is not much in my ken,” he explained to her, and relied on Freawyn’s suggestions for what was best. If they were looked at ‘oddly’ for their wants, the Admiral merely winked and grinned. “If father’s not back soon, I don’t want anything to spoil,” he explained, and then went on to the next place. Freawyn chose foods that would not spoil, to her uncle’s approval, but also clothing that would not attract attention for both herself and Berelach. She would trade her blue and white dress for a brown and green frock when they returned to the house. In a fit of vanity, or perhaps foresight, she also picked a nice dress, on the excuse that she would need it if she met the king. Gathering their packages, the two returned to Borlas’ home.
***************
When they arrived, Freawyn was glad to see that Saelon had located the cart. She directed the men as they loaded a large chest into it- the one the ‘stone’ was inside, she assumed. She kept her questions to herself, however, seeing the wizard watching her sternly. “Careful on your corner, Delagost.” She winced slightly as it slipped from his hands. She smiled slightly, nervously, as he picked it back up with a curse. “Now turn, slowly, Uncle. There you go, and to your left. Watch the step! You’re almost there…” They threw a tarp over the top of the chest, and the girl sighed in relief. One job finished.
Frea picked up her satchel from beside the door, the same one that she had used when coming all the way from Rohan, albeit a bit heavier now from her new clothes. She had changed into the new brown dress and packed her blue one and the new, nicer dress. Wrapped lovingly inside of her nightclothes was her lute. She hoped she would be able to use it in the White City.
Idhrenion settled against the tarp-covered chest, seemingly at ease. Her uncle rode astride the elf’s beautiful horse, Delagost riding between him and Radagast. Saelon helped her into the wagon, and she sat quietly beside him, thinking of all the strange things that had occurred since she entered Emyn Arnen.
The journey went by swiftly, much to her relief and that of the men. She tried to make conversation with them, but after the third long silence, Freawyn decided to bring out her lute. She played softly for a while, and then began to sing.
“Here many days once gently past me crept
In this dear town of old forgetfulness;
Here all entwined in dreams once long I slept
And heard no echo of the world's distress
Come through the rustle of the elms' rich leaves,
While Avon gurgling over shallows wove
Unending melody, and morns and eves
Slipped down her waters till the Autumn came,
(Like the gold leaves that drip and flutter then,
Till the dark river gleams with jets of flame
That slowly float far down beyond our ken.)
For here the castle and the mighty tower,
More lofty than the tiered elms,
More grey than long November rain,
Sleep, and nor sunlit moment nor triumphal hour,
Nor passing of the seasons or the Sun
Wakes their old lords too long in slumber lain.
No watchfulness disturbs their splendid dream,
Though laughing radiance dance down the stream;
And be they clad in snow or lashed by windy rains,
Or may March whirl the dust about the winding lanes,
The Elm robe and disrobe her of a million leaves
Like moments clustered in a crowded year,
Still their old heart unmoved nor weeps nor grieves,
Uncomprehending of this evil tide,
Today's great sadness, or Tomorrow's fear:
Faint echoes fade within their drowsy halls
Like ghosts; the daylight creeps across their walls.” **
“I read that in a scroll once, long ago,” she sighed, after the last notes from her lute faded. “The words remained with me, and I put them to music.” After a moment, she remarked quietly, “I wonder what I will do in Gondor…”
To her surprise, Radagast answered her, suggesting that he might talk to Eldarion, perhaps securing her a position as court bard. “Could you really do that, sir Radagast?” she asked in wonderment. “Would you do such a thing for a girl like myself? I am in your debt, sir. Thank you.” Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment and joy, and she spent the rest of the trip quietly strumming her lute and humming.
**************************
It was late afternoon of the next day when they made it to the main gates of Minas Tirith. Freawyn looked for the first time upon the legendary city, with its seven levels. Her eyes travelled up and up, widening as she took in the vastness of the White City. It was much larger than anything she had ever been told or read.
As they entered the gates, she saw a market on her left, shopkeepers hawking their wares even this late in the day. “Get your fruit from the coast of Dol Amroth!” “Meat fresh from Pinnath Gelin!” “Sheepskin and wool from Anfalas! It’s a bargain!”
“Uncle, may I? I haven’t have fresh fruit since Anorien,” she pleaded, looking up at him pleadingly. At his hesitant nod, she jumped down from the cart, ignoring the others, and ran to the market, glad to be free and on her own, albeit for just a few moments. She would have very little time to herself when she went to the palace, whether she would be staying there or no. A smile on her face, she walked quickly over to the fruit seller’s stall.
*************
Torsten strolled back towards his inn. His visit to Minas Tirith was nearly finished. It had been successful. He had made a good profit on the herd of horses he had brought from Rohan and got good bargains on the casks of wine and bales of cloth that made up the burdens that his pack horses had set off with that morning. They were on the road back to Edoras, accompanied by most of his men. Even though the roads were safe now, a train of pack horses were always vulnerable as they crossed the miles. In the morning he would set off for home. He would collect the money, at present safely stored in the strong-room of a merchant colleague of his family, and start for home. He had two men still in Minas Tirith. They were the best guards the family had. They were good fighters, loyal to his family and never asked questions; provided they were well paid. His father paid his men well and expected honesty. Torsten knew there were men who had crossed his father; they had regretted it.
He was aware of the admiring glances of several women as he strolled along. He caught the eye of a girl clearing up a baker’s stall and smiled at her. She was pretty enough he thought to himself but there were plenty of pretty girls in Minas Tirith. He had no intention of wasting his last evening in the city with the fairly pretty assistant to a baker. He did not care whether the girl was the servant, daughter, niece or, even, wife of the baker. He ran his hand through his blond hair, shook his head and walked on towards a fruit seller’s stall.
The girl standing at the stall looked familiar. She turned her head. “Frea,” he called, “how wonderful to see you again. Wherever have you been? I cannot believe you would just leave me the way you did. Come, I’ve had a successful visit to this city and my father’s business prospers. We’ll dine together and then I and my men will be your escorts back home.” He laid his hand on her arm, claiming her in the proprietorial manner which had annoyed her in the past.
Freawyn’s eyes widened as her mind flew back just a short time into the past, but many, many leagues away.
*************************
Mother is dead. The thought had repeated itself over and over in her head. She is not coming back. Mother is dead. She wants me to find my grandfather. But she is dead. Mother is dead. Sorrow engulfing her mind, Freawyn had sought out the only comfort she could find- the one who held her heart. It had been only a day since Morwen's death, but Freawyn needed someone to help fight the lonliness she felt inside. She needed his encouragement to start the quest that was set before her. She had needed to see Torsten.
Her shoulders slouching with grief, she made her way to his home- he was sure to be there this early in the morning. She knocked on the door, her hand shaking. He had answered the door with a frown that quickly disappeared. When she asked for his help, however, in her search for her grandfather, he had laughed. Frustrated and grieving, Frea had turned from him, packed her bags, and left for Gondor that day.
*******************************
“Let go of me! You… you...” She fumed, glaring at him with all the painful memories apparent on her face. “I want nothing to do with your empty promises. I will do fine just by myself, thank you.”
Torsten stared at Frea in disbelief. He had been surprised when she had left him and disappeared before. He could not believe that she would so bluntly reject him now. Perhaps she was just surprised to see him. Then, she had always had a silly independent mind so, he told himself, she wanted to seem as if she hadn’t missed him. “Frea, don’t be silly. You can’t spend the evening in this city by yourself. I’m staying at one of the best inns in the city. If you’re worried about your dress, I’ll buy you something to make you look really beautiful. You're my girl and I want you to look the best.”
Freawyn slapped him across the face, and Torsten instinctively let go of her shoulder to grab his hurt cheek. “I am not your girl, and will never again be. I have friends I’m staying with, thank you, and, in fact, have plenty of nice things, thanks to my friends. In fact, I’ve found my uncle, and he has provided for all my needs.” She raised her chin in a proud manner, all the while stepping away from him.
“Well,” he growled, “I hope your new friends look after you. If I see you in the gutter, I’ll pass on the other side. And your family can’t expect any help from me or mine.” He turned away from her and stormed off down the street, nearly kicking a child out of his path. He turned off into a side street; into a part of the city he would normally avoid and into an inn “The Orc’s Bane”. The slatternly maid looked up as he walked in. “Ale, your best,” he demanded, sitting down at a table. The girl brought the ale and Torsten drank it in one gulp. “Another,” he called.
Another ale, and another. Torsten sat muttering into his tankard, “How dare she? Who does she think she is? There’s a hundred girls in Rohan, Minas Tirith or Dale who’d spend the evening with me if I asked. Many of them far prettier than her. How DARE she?”
He looked up and saw a dark man standing at the table.
**********************
Shocked and upset about seeing Torsten again, Freawyn ran back to the cart, forgetting about her fruit. The men, wizard, and elf all questioned her about what had happened, but she kept it to herself. Some things, and some people, should be kept in the past.
** From the Book of Lost Tales
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| Dinenlasse |
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| Hainima |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: February 10, 2009 08:35
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(OOC: This is a joint post with DD and Dinenlasse. Let us know if anything needs editing.)
Falithor had been sitting at the Orc's Bane, keeping his eyes and ears peeled, as Baldir had told him. Openly he had flirted with his Rhia, and had even told her some things she ought not to know- yet, he knew she wouldn't betray him. Even so, thoughts of the Dark One were ever in his mind. Who was the Dark One, really? What was the extent of his power? What were his plans? Of course, he knew better than to try to find out- he felt certain that he would be told all that he 'needed' to know, and that to try to learn more would result in unpleasant consequences.
Musing on dark thoughts and dreams of glory, he noticed the angry young man almost at once, and had watched him for some time. Nursing yet another drink he was, and obviously full of wrath; Falithor could hear him cursing and muttering into his tankard. A grin touched the sailor's lips. Something told him that this young man could prove to be most valuable to their 'cause'. Sliding out of his chair with the smoothness of a creeping feline despite his build, Fal sauntered over and stopped beside the man's table.
"Well, something seems to have ruffled your feathers," he said with a smirk when Torsten noticed him. "Not a woman, certainly?"
Sitting down without being asked, and watching the young man carefully, "What if I told you I know someone who can help you get back at her? Or get her back, if that's what you want. It's no fun to be humiliated... especially by a woman."
Tilting his head at Rhia who was across the room, "My lass there adores me... but anyway, I can introduce you to someone who can help you... and besides that, doing a bit of work for him could put you in high standing, and pay well. There's much to be gotten."
….
Torsten looked at the man with an expression bordering on disgust. What could a sailor do to help him? He wasn’t interested in how much some girl in a tavern adored him, or in his friends. They were probably a group of sailors who regarded the men of Rohan as easy to cheat. Well, he certainly wasn’t. However, maybe they could do business. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time somebody setting out to cheat him had ended up losing on the deal. Besides, there was something about this man. He looked at his empty tankard and smiled.
“I had a girl. She wandered off on some stupid whim; looking for her grandfather or some such. I don’t remember. That was a couple of years ago and I’d been looking out for news of her. Not that she was anything special, you understand but I thought she owed me some explanation of why she went off and didn’t come back. Anyway, I just met her in the city, offered to buy her dinner and a new dress, take care of her, see her safely back to Edoras. What more could she want? She was with two very strange characters, said they were her friends now, said she’d found her uncle. She slapped my face! Nobody does that and gets away with it. As far as I’m concerned, she’s finished. She can rot and her new friends with her.
“So,” he continued, “tell me about your ‘friend’. What sort of ‘work’ does he want? I’ve two men with me who aren’t too worried about what tasks I give them – so long as they’re well paid. I trust your ‘friend’ will be paying for this ‘work’ in advance.
“My name is Torsten, son of Aelraed,” he said, “perhaps your friends and I can do business. But I should warn you, nobody” he slammed the tankard on the table to emphasize his point, “nobody cheats me and gets away with it.”
He glanced round for the barmaid, “More ale, you lazy girl. Is this what you call service in this place?” He grinned at Falithor, “It needs a lot of ale before a man of Rohan has had his fill.”
----
Falithor grinned back. What an arrogant mite this one was, he thought to himself, and for a moment he mused that it would be great fun to cheat the overly confident young man out of his money and then give him a solid shove out of the door. A wealthy (obviously, by his clothes and his manner) brat from Rohan wouldn't truly be able to last a week in Minas Tirith, not coming into the 'Bane. However, the young man's willingness to listen said that the chance couldn't be passed up. If he was in fact wealthy and his family had some influence, it would be a great chance for the Dark One to extend his work into Rohan. And then, there were the 'strange characters' that he had mentioned. Fal waited for Rhia to respond to the man's order for more ale.
--
Rhia had dealt with rude customers before, and this one, however proud and expectant, was just like the rest of them. “Of course, sir,” she said subserviently, returning to the bar to obtain a pitcher. After she filled both men’s tankards again (Fal tipped her another wink), Rhia took a moment to step aside by the bar and contemplate everything that had happened. Something was not right as she watched the two men engage in earnest conversation.
--
Winking at his own 'girl', he had no need to wait for her to move off before he continued.
"My friend... well, I oughtn't introduce him while he's not here, but if you like we an pay him a visit. But I *can* promise you than he pays very, very well."
Falithor reached into his pocket and took out a small bag of coins, setting it on the table and jingling its contents a few times. "And there's wealth, and power, to be had far beyond this, trust me Torsten. Things are about to change around here."
As he said it there was a small sense of regret in the back of his mind. Things were about to change, he knew. The days would become dark for many. Better to be on the winning side, right? Either way, he couldn't go back now... not with the Dark One's presence ever chilling his heart, a shadow looking over his shoulder.
"There will be plenty of time to discuss work and payment. Tell me something, though- about these strange characters you said your girl was with... what was so strange about them?"
--
Rhia knew she needed to confide her suspicions to somebody, but who? She knew no one would listen to her, and if she confronted Fal about it, something entirely against her nature, he would brush her off and tell her not to worry. For all her popularity with customers, she had no friends and certainly no confidantes to go to. Rhia withdrew into the shadows thrown by the flickering candle in their sconces and continued observing their conversation.
--
Falithor paid no heed to Rhia, but was intent upon the young man he now sat with.
Torsten thought for a moment. “Well,” he said, “I didn’t take much notice of them. There were a couple of men, just ordinary men and I think one of them might have been a soldier. They had a cart with them, a good looking riding horse and a horse who looked like he could be one of the Mearas; I wonder where they got him from. I’ve not seen many like that horse and, believe me, I can recognize a good horse. However, there were two men who seemed different. One of them was an old man, a bit shabby in his dress. He looked like he would be more of a liability if they had to deal with footpads. He was riding the Mearas so he would be able to avoid trouble if they met it. I wonder how somebody like that came by such a horse. He was a horse fit for a king.
“The other… well…” he paused, “the other really was strange. He looked quite young but had a look about him. He looked through you without looking at you, if you understand me.”
"Hmmm." Falithor nodded slightly. This group sounded important. What all this information meant he didn't know... he only knew as much as Baldir and the Dark One had seen fit to share with him, which wasn't much. Now of course the group would be long vanished somewhere within the city; Minas Tirith was large and it was all too easy for even a strange group like that to become lost in the crowd- if only *he* had seen them, he might have been able to do some spying and find out what they were about.... He was sure Baldir would find Torsten's words very interesting.
"Finish up your tankard, Torsten," Fal took back the coins he'd put on the table and slipped them back into his pocket, "Let's take a walk, shall we? I think my friend would enjoy a chat with you very much, and that you'll find the conversation much to your liking."
After they'd finished their drinks Falithor pulled Rhia close and kissed her, giving her a wink before leaving the Orc's Bane with his new found 'friend'. Baldir would be on a higher level- and it was Baldir he intended to introduce Torsten to, at once.
--
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: February 11, 2009 06:26
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When Baldir left his home, leaving a stunned aunt and sister in his wake, he did not head directly back to Minas Tirith but instead went to the Wild Boar, where he ate before meeting with Bergin, Marein and Kamerin later that night as arranged. When they met at the barn on the edge of town, they told him about their findings in Mordor. He had sent them off with a bag of coins then mounted his horse, heading for the Wild Boar once again. He knew he was expected at the Citadel but he wanted to wait until he heard back from the young men the next day. He also didn't want to go home....and his anger at Cenewith boiled up in him just thinking about her cavorting about with that spineless pup, Delagost.....so he returned once again to the 'Boar', where he took a room for the night. At noon the next day, he searched out the the boys, finding them at Bergin's father's farm.
Confronting them, he demanded to know, "Have you found what I asked you to collect for me?"
Bergin, as usual acting as the leader of the group, glanced from the corner of his eye at his companions, noting that they were more nervous than he. Taking a deep breath, he stuttered his response. "We went to the house this morning and...and...there was a group there, men and a woman. They were loading a large trunk onto a cart, a very heavy one. There was no way we could get to the house with all those people there." He stopped when he noticed the dark and baleful expression on Baldir's face.
Baldir glared at him, asking suddenly, "Who was there? Who were the people loading this ... trunk?"
"Well, um, there was Borlas's son, the Admiral and er his niece from Rohan. I think her name is Freawyn." Receiving a nod of confirmation from Marein, he took another deep breath and continued. "Uh...Delagost was there as well," and he cringed at the furious look that crossed Baldir's face, but bravely he added, "and the elf was there, too. Did you know there's been an elf staying with Delagost's family?" Quickly he said, "And then there was a shabby old man though that was really strange because he had a beautiful horse, a white one. I wonder how a poor tattered ancient comes by such a horse?" he asked of no one in particular and stared at nothing, thinking about the elderly old man and his horse, forgetting for a moment about Baldir's presence.
"Bergin!" Baldir's voice brought him back to the present and he stared at the Citadel Captain in surprise.
"I'm sorry, sir. Um...whatever they were loading on Saelon's cart....did I remember to tell you that Saelon was there too? It was his cart they were using." Realizing he was rambling, he said, "They finished loading it and then they all rode off on the road to Minas Tirith. We waited till they were well gone and then we checked out the house. There was nothing there like what you asked us to look for. I think, sir....um....it is probably in the trunk they put on the cart."
The three of them stood where they were, shaking in their boots at the violent fury they saw in Baldir's eyes. "Sir?" Bergin whispered hesitantly. Baldir's silver eyes narrowed as he paced back and forth on the floor of the barn before turning abruptly and facing them.
"You did what I asked you to do. Speak to no one of this and go about your business as usual. I will contact you if you are needed for anything further." With that, he turned on heel and left them standing in the barn. Moving to his horse and mounting, he nudged the horse into a gallop. He knew he should be returning to the Citadel but he had much to tell the Dark One, though he was terrified at how the man would take the news he had to share.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Dark One sat in silence just inside the opening to the cave where Borlas had been held, lost in thought as he tried to determine who had given aid to Borlas in freeing himself. Surely the man could not have done it himself. His bones were broken, his body bruised and beaten. He was barely able to keep his eyes open when Pallando questioned him. The former Blue Istar had been so close to breaking him and he was enraged that someone had outsmarted him. He wanted to know who....very much he wanted to know.
The night was chillier than usual, yet all he did was pull his dark cloak closer around his tall, thin body rather than light a fire. Hidden here in the dark, he felt he could better watch for any intruders. The sound of the arrival of a horse followed by the crackling of twigs as someone approached alerted him to the possible arrival of just one of those intruders. His dark eyes pierced the night and his lip curled however as he recognized Baldir. "Ah, Baldir. What news?"
Baldir saw no one and was startled by the disembodied voice. Tripping over a root, he came to a stop and turned his head to the right and then the left. "My Lord?" he questioned, and was startled when a tall, hooded figure suddenly appeared at his side. Baldir was well over six feet tall but the Dark Lord stood inches above him. Feeling cowed, he lowered his head in greeting before saying nervously, "I bring news but none of it is good, my Lord." Lifting his eyes, he could see nothing but the glitter of two eyes, hidden deep within the hood. "Perhaps we could sit?" he questioned, hoping not to anger the Dark Lord but his knees were shaking. The was a long moment's pause before the Dark One turned and glided off into the blackness of the night. Baldir followed closely until they were both seated in the opening of the cave.
"Speak!"
Baldir passed along that which he had heard of the rumors in Emyn Arnen and from the three young men, with few interruptions from the Dark One until he spoke of the tattered old man with the fine horse. Even in the dark, Baldir saw the Dark one's hand rise to halt his speech. Silence reigned for some time until the Dark One began to mutter to himself. "White horse? Brown shabby robes? It can't be......he has been lost for centuries" Baldir wanted very badly to ask who he was talking about but didn't dare. Finally, the Dark One spoke to him.
"So the stone is out of our hands for now, is it? Naturally, you will search Minas Tirith for it from top to bottom. We may still be able to obtain it," he said, his soft, sibilant voice leaving no room for disagreement. "And you will discover who the elf and the old man are, too, yes? I need to know every move they make, every person they meet. If necessary, you may send a messenger you trust to pass on the information you find. Saelon? Is that the name you mentioned before? Are you sure, given his part in this morning’s enterprise, that he can still be trusted? Perhaps Falithor.....someone you trust with information. I leave that to you," Rising to his full height, he stood naught but a silhouette against the opening of the cave. Baldir scrambled to his feet and waited for the Dark One to speak.
"Leave, now! I want word from you soon. I may be leaving here but I will see to it that whatever information you have for me will reach me. Go!!"
Baldir hurried away feeling only relief at getting off so easily. He had come here full of dread yet the Dark Lord seemed more distracted about some old man than the loss of the stone. Baldir wondered who the old one was as he mounted his horse and rode off quickly into the night.
Pallando stood staring into the darkness, still muttering to himself, questioning his own suspicions, long after Baldir was gone. So deep in thought was he that he only heard Farvo when his partner was almost at his side. "Farvo! Baldir was just here. He brought some disturbing news." He shared what Baldir had told him, finishing with, "Alatar (using the Istar's original name in his distraction). It's not possible, is it? Could Radagast have come out of the wilderness?"
What he heard from Farvo clutched at his heart, making him very apprehensive. “We’ll have to move our base. I think it is time we head for Mordor. I am expecting someone from the far east with a contingent of men. He will go to Mordor first to wait for us and guard the Urik-hai until we arrive, when we can then raise them from the depths. Can you get word to the Hill-men and have them prepare to join us there?”
Almost as an afterthought, he added, "We still have the one stone. Perhaps we can find the other one that way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Baldir rode hard and fast back to Minas Tirith, his mind reeling. Something had disturbed (did he dare think, 'frightened'?) the Dark Lord. It seemed to revolve around one old man in shabby brown robes. Why would this old man be so disturbing to someone as powerful as the Dark Lord? He was determined to discover who the old one was along with his connection to the 'elf'. 'Elf'? Even that amazed him. No one had seen an elf other than Arwen, Eldarion's mother, in years. Something was going on in the great city and he was going to find out exactly what it was. He needed to recover his grace with the Dark One.
As he rode through the great gates of Minas Tirith very late that night, he slowed his sweating horse as he clip-clopped through the levels to the Citadel. He had reached the 5th level when he passed two men trudging up the hill. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, recognizing Falithor as one of them. Wondering what the sailor was doing this high in the city, he turned his horse and rode back, halting in front of the man and his companion.
"Falithor, what brings you to this level at this time of night?" thinking that whatever the reason, it could not be a good one.
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 |
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| Halrohir |
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| Hainima |
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: March 22, 2009 04:54
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The sun was already setting when the small group arrived at the gates of Minas Tirith, still way too early for the gates to close for the night yet the traffic in and out of the great city was slowing as night drew closer. Saelon, at the reins, urged the old farm horse along, stopping only when Freawyn at his side begged him to, pointing to the market stalls where peddlers were only now beginning to pack up their goods for the evening. Pleading with her uncle for permission to search for some fruits, and upon receiving it, jumping down on her own to investigate the various stalls, Saelon watched her without actually seeing her. His mind was wandering on its own path, reliving again and again the discoveries of this long day.
Wizards....three of them.....the Dark Lord one of them. Aside from his amazement at such a plethora of wizards suddenly appearing in this New Age, shivers ran down his spine at the thought that he had been actually dealing with one of them, a most evil one. Granted, he had yet to see this person having only met with his minion, Baldir. But even that thought filled him with fear. Baldir....Captain of the Citadel Guards, a position that should belong to only someone loyal to the King. How much harm could he do to Eldarion, ensconced as he was in that high post? What had begun as a means to determine the possibility of a 'simple' uprising had taken on deeper shadows of something extremely evil. With Radagast's concern for his welfare evident, he wondered how much danger he might have brought upon himself.
The trip from Emyn Arnen to the white city had been fraught with a sense of that evil. All the members of the party had been traveling with their eyes constantly darting from side to side, especially when they passed through heavily wooded areas through which the road wove its way. Chuckling to himself, he thought, "All but Idhrenion, that is. The elf has barely glanced up from his scrolls and books the entire trip." A sharp sound interrupted his musings and he turned his head just in time to see Freawyn backing away from one who, based on his apparel, looked to be a Rohannion, then twisting to run back towards the cart, her hands bereft of any of the fruit she had gone in search of. Saelon jumped down from the cart, hurrying to meet her as she drew closer.
"Freawyn, are you alright? Who was that? Should I confront him?" he asked her, though the thought of taking on the tall, well-built man was not top on his list of things he wished to do. Turning, he noted that Delagost and Berelach, both with their hands on the hilts of their swords, had observed the exchange as well and were more than likely considering the same action. He felt a bit better as well when he saw that Radagast, astride his incredible, saddle-less horse, his staff across his legs, was watching the exchange too, his eyes narrowed. Although he could not see Idhrenion from where he stood in front of the horse, he was willing to wager that even the elf had not missed a moment of the event.
When Freawyn refused to explain the cause of the interchange, Saelon helped her back onto the seat of the cart. The rest of the group gathered around, bombarding the poor maiden with questions, none of which she seemed willing to answer. Then getting a nod from Radagast, Saelon urged the horse forward up the hill towards the Citadel. His eyes, however, watched the back of the man as he disappeared down a side street, wondering who he was and how Freawyn knew him. Was he yet another threat?
When the group finally reached the sixth level, complete darkness had fallen upon the city. Radagast rode up to Delagost's side. "Young man, we will wait here while you continue on to the Citadel. We can not bring a shabby farm cart to the seventh level without Eldarion's approval. You will request an immediate audience with him, explain our situation as concisely as possible and then request his permission to approach with the wagon. The stone must be kept in the Citadel with its mate, the palantir already held there. Now go at once and hurry back. I feel a bit of concern standing here, vulnerable in the dark, with the precious cargo we carry." Patting Delagost on the shoulder, he watched as the young guard hurried up the ramp to the Citadel itself.
Having dismounted, he leaned against his staff as he tapped his fingers on the side of the cart with impatience, his eyes closely examining every person passing through the light of the torches scattered about, before walking to the back of the wagon, where sat Idhrenion. "Ren, do you think Delagost will be successful? I become more anxious with every passing moment." Smiling gently, he added, "Were you able to find anything to help us in those," pointing at the pile of papers surrounding the elf, "on our long and, I would imagine, very bumpy ride here?"
A short time later, though not short enough for Radagast, a guard ran down the ramp from the Citadel, stopping abruptly in front of Radagast and after a quick salute, offering the wizard comforting words. "The King will see you, sir...all of you. And please bring the wagon with you, if you will."
"Indeed! And not a moment too soon for me. Where is Delagost?" When the guard answered, "With the King, sir. The King was still questioning him when he sent me to fetch you." Nodding, Radagast called out, "Come, friends, let's get this cart above." Glancing at Berelach, he chuckled softly. "I should have sent you, Berelach. Delagost is but a guard while you are the King's Admiral. I'm sure you could have moved us along more quickly, though in truth, young Del did a fine job of it. I am just impatient."
Turning to look up at Freawyn, sitting patiently on the cart's wooden seat. "And you, my fair child...soon you will meet the King. As I promised you, I will see to it that you find a safe yet happy abode to wait out this trying time."
Striding off toward the ramp, he called over his shoulder, "Come, my friends. We have an appointment with Eldarion to keep."
##################################################
Earlier that same day, Cenewith had ventured out on her daily rounds, though her heart was heavy and not in her travels. When she had awakened that morning, she had sat on the edge of her bed, examining the deep bruises on her arm....those made by her beloved brother. She had always known he was a distant sort and never openly affectionate to either she or their aunt. But he had never before been brutal or harsh with either of them. She could neither believe nor understand his behavior or his actions.
With a smile on her face though one that did not reach her eyes, she gently helped old Corared from her bed, assisting her in bathing and dressing before feeding her food from her basket, chattering in her soft voice about the lovely weather and the flowers growing in the fields. Corared, though almost entirely blind, sensed something different in Cenewith's voice, however.
"Child, something troubles you. What is it? You can tell me. I am old but not lacking in wisdom. Perhaps I can help," she said in her crackling ancient voice.
Tears filled Cenewith's eyes, and though Corared could not see them, she could sense them in Cen's tremulous voice as the young woman responded. "Ahh Corared, I am so worried about my brother, Baldir. It is he who is troubled and I don't know why or how to help him." Lowering Corared to her comfortable rocking chair, she added, "But right now, you are not to worry about any of that. I want to know how your cough is and whether I should bring you some more of Aunt's herbal tea." The rest of the visit was about Corared's various ailments and Cenewith finally gathered her basket and kissed Corared on her forehead, patting her shoulder. "I will see you tomorrow, dear. Mellanar will stop by later to see that you have dinner, alright?"
Her head was low as she exited Corared's house and she thought nothing of her surroundings until her name was called. She recognized Delagost's voice immediately and her eyes lifted, searching for him. When she saw him, fear filled her heart at once. Her eyes searched for her brother, certain that he would have followed the young guard. Seeing no one but Delagost, who was beckoning to her to join him behind a shed, her steps quickly carried her to his side.
"Delagost, what are you doing here?" Although she still feared for his welfare, her small hand happily nested in his. She felt a sudden sense of loss when he told her was leaving the village, not wanting him to leave yet knowing it was probably safer if he did. She knew not what Baldir was likely to do to him were he to stay.
But she frowned as she tried to pull her hand from his when he noticed her bruises. She fought not to cry as his soft voice asked, "Oh my dear Cenewith... did... did Baldir do this? How badly are you hurt....?"
"Please, Delagost...," though she really didn't know what she wanted to say. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, "I'm alright, truly I am. They are but bruises on my arm. But why must you go?" Her voice sinking even lower, her whisper barely audible, she added, "I will miss you." His answer was hardly explanatory but she did promise to be careful...and to take care of herself as he asked. She wanted to share her concerns about her brother but this was neither the time nor the place so instead she simply sighed deeply.
It was, however, when he pulled her close, kissing her cheek and holding for a brief moment before saying softly, "I will be thinking of you," that her tears welled and overflowed, running down her cheeks. As he turned, and hurried away, she wiped them from her face with the back of her hand, wondering when...and if...she would see him again. Unable to face anyone, she hurried home, bursting through the kitchen door and into her aunt's arms. "Aunt, what is happening? Something is wrong with Baldir. Something is wrong with the entire world. What is it, Aunt Melarin?" Burying her head against her aunt's shoulder, she sobbed uncontrollably, Melarin rocking her gently and murmuring comforting sounds, though with no answers to her niece's questions.
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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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: April 13, 2009 08:43
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Ignoring the jostling of the cart as the group made their way to the White City, Idhrenion concentrated on his books. It didn’t mean, however, that the studious ellon was unaware of things going on around him. He heard, for example, Freawyn singing… almost ‘idly’ to himself translating the words into his own language as she did.
Sí eraid rim aphanner er-’wennin aphadant nin… (‘Here many days once gently past me crept…’) he thought, doing so not interrupting his studies.
Idhrenion was also quite aware of the tension amongst the others, but trusted them, and (particularly) Radagast to give enough warning for his aid to be needed.
Berelach knew Freawyn wanted to talk, but he was not in the mood for it. He just wanted them to *get* to Minas Tirith, and to get their ‘cargo’ to the safety of King Eldarion’s care. - And, the relief he felt as they went through the huge gates was akin to hearing his father was all right.
Not all seemed ‘well’ even here, though, and the Admiral frowned when he saw his niece scurrying back to the cart. Who was bothering her, he wondered, ready to defend her if need be. Saelon was right ‘there’, however, and exchanging a glance with Delagost, glanced in to see what the elf was doing. - And, Idhrenion had looked up - watching things carefully and waiting to hear what the Rohannian girl would say. When she didn’t reply to the questions thrown at her head, the elf nodded at Radagast’s asking Delagost to ride up ahead of them whilst the remainder of the group waited.
Having dismounted, he leaned against his staff as he tapped his fingers on the side of the cart with impatience, his eyes closely examining every person passing through the light of the torches scattered about, before walking to the back of the wagon, where sat Idhrenion. "Ren, do you think Delagost will be successful? I become more anxious with every passing moment." Smiling gently, he added, "Were you able to find anything to help us in those," pointing at the pile of papers surrounding the elf, "on our long and, I would imagine, very bumpy ride here?"
Raising an eyebrow, “I do not see how Delagost can not be successful, mellon nín,” Idhrenion replied. “It may be more that the king was not immediately available to him,” he added, unruffled at the wait.
But, beginning to pack away his books and notes, “I may have,” the elf went on, “but I would have us report to the king first…
A short time later, a guard ran down the ramp from the Citadel, stopping abruptly in front of Radagast and after a quick salute, offering the wizard comforting words. "The King will see you, sir...all of you. And please bring the wagon with you, if you will."
"Indeed! And not a moment too soon for me. Where is Delagost?" When the guard answered, "With the King, sir. The King was still questioning him when he sent me to fetch you." Nodding, Radagast called out, "Come, friends, let's get this cart above." Glancing at Berelach, he chuckled softly. "I should have sent you, Berelach. Delagost is but a guard while you are the King's Admiral. I'm sure you could have moved us along more quickly, though in truth, young Del did a fine job of it. I am just impatient."
“As am I,” Berelach replied honestly; indeed, he just wanted to get their ‘cargo’ taken care of.
Turning to look up at Freawyn, sitting patiently on the cart's wooden seat. "And you, my fair child...soon you will meet the King. As I promised you, I will see to it that you find a safe yet happy abode to wait out this trying time."
Striding off toward the ramp, he called over his shoulder, "Come, my friends. We have an appointment with Eldarion to keep."
By the time they reached the palace gate, Idhrenion had his notes in order, and was watching with keen eyes as the king came to meet them.
The king strode forward to meet it, looking at the tarp with a dark expression before greeting first Idhrenion, then Berelach and his niece and Saelon, and turning last to the old man.
"Greetings," he said quietly, looking at the Istar with an expression that didn't betoken whatever thoughts ran through his mind, "Let us get your burden safely inside, then we have many things to discuss."
Relieved, Berelach dismounted, and turned his horse over to Eldarion’s stable-master, and walked alongside the cart as Saelon guided it to the main entrance. Under heavy guard, the trunk was carried inside, and trusting the king for it’s security, they accompanied him to a room where they could talk.
Refreshments were brought, and seated around a table, Idhrenion waited for the others to share their comments and then, when it was his turn, “There is something more I have discovered, hîr nín,” [my lord] the elf said. “Besides confirming the two Blue Wizards are involved, there may be a possibility that one of them may *not* be as ‘certain’ of his allegiance to this new Shadow. As to which it is, I cannot yet tell, but,” looking at everyone in all seriousness, “If this wizard can be ‘swayed’, it would weaken the Darker of the two. But, as Saruman of Old, the Idhryn Luin are gathering an army to them: one the like of which Arda has not seen before. Both from West and East they come… but they have recruited a general from the East - farther east even than Mordor - who has promised them his obedience, and of whom we should also be cautious…”
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: May 05, 2009 02:09
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Baldir rode to the 6th level, stopping only long enough at the stable to leave his horse in the hands of a young guard. “He’s ridden long and hard. See to it that he is fed, watered, and groomed before you place him in his stall,” he ordered, though so deep in thought was he that his order lacked his usual harshness.
Walking slowly from the stable, he thought of the day past, particularly the Dark One’s reaction to the presence of the elf and the wizened old man he traveled with. Who was this old man? He would have to find out, and soon. His presence in Minas Tirith had some important meaning to the Dark One but why? His curiosity overwhelmed him.
Then of course there was the matter of the ‘stone’, somewhere now in the city, but where? His orders were to search the city from top to bottom until he found it, not an easy task especially given that he was technically ‘on-duty’ this month and had other responsibilities to tend to. But he would have to find the time to search for it….one didn’t ignore the Dark One’s orders at peril of one’s life. And he certainly couldn’t pass the task on to anyone else. Or could he? It might be a task he could offer Falithor and his new friend, Torsten. He smiled to himself as he climbed to the Citadel to check with those on guard duty there about the events of the day.
His first shock came as he noted the presence of a beaten old cart at the side of the main entrance. His second came when, questioning the guards, he was informed that it had arrived earlier that evening and whatever was unloaded was taken into the Citadel itself. He interrogated the guards, “What was unloaded? Who were the people that came with the wagon? Where are they now?” When he was told that whatever was unloaded was not only in a large trunk but covered by a tarp, his eyes glittered with eagerness.
“It was accompanied, Captain, by a small group of men and one woman. Rather an oddity was that one of the men was actually an elf, sir. I haven’t seen one before so it was a bit of treat,” the guard blurted out, forgetting that his Captain was not one to be impressed with his childlike delight at the sighting of an elf but so excited he missed the glare in Baldir’s eyes. “As to where they are, they were greeted by the King himself and are still inside with him. They have not come out yet.”
Pointing to one of the guards, Baldir ordered in a voice that balked any argument, “Follow them the minute they come out. I want to know where they are staying. Wake me as soon as you know.“ His piercing gaze on the now subdued guard, he added, “Do not fail me in this.” The guard nodded .
Stomping back to his quarters, he puzzled over how he was going to gain possession of the ‘stone’. There could be nowhere safer for it to be than in the Citadel and under the care of the King himself. “Damnation!” he blurted out in frustration. The Lieutenant he passed was startled until he realized that his Captain had not even seen him and he wiped his brow in thankfulness.
He had barely fallen asleep when he was jolted from his repose by a hard knock on the door. “Enter!” he called out, sitting up and running his hand through his tossled hair. The guard he had appointed to track the King’s ‘guests’ entered, standing at attention. “What? What is it?” Baldir asked harshly.
“The people you asked me to follow, sir? All but the woman have left the Citadel. One was Delagost, one of our own guards, who went directly to his quarters on the 6th level. The rest of the men and the elf went to “The Golden Feather Inn” on the 5th level. They all took rooms there and are bedded for the night, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”
“The Golden Feather, eh? Very good.,” Baldir yawned unabashedly. “Go back to your duty. That will be all for now.” When the guard had left, Baldir threw his legs over the edge of the bed, scratching his chest, considering whether he should do anything. Aware that his prey was more than likely sleeping until morning, he decided to leave them to their dreams and follow any plans he might come up with in the morning. Falling back upon his pillow, he drifted off to an exhausted sleep.
The sun was already above the mountains to the east when Haldir woke. Bathing and dressing quickly, he headed out to find information. His first step was the officer’s quarters. “Where is Delagost?” he asked a young officer.
“Don’t know, sir. He’s not officially on duty so he doesn’t have to sign in or out.”
Annoyed but knowing the truth of this, he went up to the Citadel to check with the guards there. Some interesting news was given to him there. The travelers were going to come up to give their farewells to the King later in the afternoon. They were still in the city, then. But were they going back to Emyn Arnen from here? His next stop was the Golden Feather where he spoke to the innkeeper, discovering that the guests had asked about the best places to purchase traveling supplies. Traveling supplies? Hmmm. Baldir wondered where they were heading. They didn’t need supplies just to return to Emyn Arnen.
Cursing under his breath that he had only just begun his monthly duty and could not follow them, he searched his mind for a solution. A cruel smile curled his lips. “The perfect job for Falithor and his new friend,” he thought, impatient for the upcoming meeting.
Three o’clock found him drinking a mug of ale at the ‘Orc’s Bane’ when the two men entered the tavern. Ordering two more mugs to be brought for them, he led them to a table in a far corner of the tavern, away from the few customers at this early hour of the day. When they were seated, their mugs before them, Baldir smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“I have a job for you. There is a group of travelers about to leave the city. I need to have them followed.” Glancing at Falithor, his smile broadened. “One of them is your Admiral, Falithor, so I’d advise you to stay out of sight,” he chuckled. “I don’t know where they are headed, thus I know not how long your trip will be. But as soon as you discover their destination, I want you to return and tell me where it is.”
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Torsten. “This should be an easy task for you, being from Rohan. Horses are second nature to you, though you will more than likely have to prop Falithor up, him being more comfortable at sea than in a saddle,” he remarked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “You will be well paid.” Pulling a jingling pouch from his tunic, he tossed it on the table, spilling several gold coins. “This should give you an idea how well.”
Never once in his intensity did he notice Falithor’s wench hovering in the deep shadows nearby, absorbing every word of their conversation.
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Pallando packed what he needed from the cave he had been hiding in into a leather bag, rounded up his old nag, and mounted up, heading the poor horse towards the remains of the Black Gate. With Alatar calling the Hillmen to join them in Mordor, he was anxious to see what arrangements Rhuddalan had made not only for his own forces from Zhâgara but for the additional forces soon to arrive. He was eager to dig in the ruins, excited about raising the buried Uruk-hai to add their strength to his growing army. He would also have to see to it that the wild parties of orcs still residing in hidden wildernesses were round up and brought to Mordor. He’d talk to Rhuddalan about that. The ride was long and tiring but the Dark One was boosted by his enthusiasm.
He hoped Alatar had warned the Hillman not to ravage and pillage too many villages on their way south. He did not want to awaken awareness of random disturbances throughout the land .…at least not yet. Soon…soon they would be ready but not quite yet.
He reached the rubble of what used to be the Black Gates of Mordor and worked his horse through it, his eyes searching the area around him. He espied several guards, hidden behind boulders and atop hillocks. A horn rang out a warning of his arrival, and he smiled with satisfaction. Rhuddalan was already here and doing his bidding. Pulling his hood closer around his face, he continued onward, his mind chilling those of the guards staring down at him. He called up to one of them, “Rhuddalan? Where is he?” The guard pointed inside the break in the mountains and cried back, “He is at the ruins on the other side of the plain.”
“Send news that I have come. I will attend him soon.” He watched as the man raced off, then made his way onto the plain. Dark clouds raced overhead as his horse stepped his way across the dead ground, raising dust and ash in a dusty cloud below. Pallando sighed with pleasure at this forbidding and desolate land, dead and no more than wasteland. Not a bit of green showed anywhere before him, not a sprig of grass nor even a scrub brush. There was no clean water flowing anywhere nor anywhere that the crops so abundant throughout the rest of Middle-Earth could grow here. All supplies would have to be shipped in but that was Rhuddalan’s task. Ahead of him, miles across the dead plain and near the ruins, he noted the lights of small fires and the gray of tent tops. Nodding with satisfaction, he made his way ahead.
When he neared the encampment, he saw a horse and rider approaching. Pulling his own to a stop, he waited until they arrived, and he greeted Rhuddalan. “You seem to have things in order, I see,” he commented, as they both moved toward the camp. “That’s good, as reinforcements will be arriving from the North any day now. Plans are afoot and coming together nicely. I will fill you in when we arrive at my tent but as we ride, advise me of what you have been doing…what you still need…how things have been around the ruins.”
They rode side by side while Rhuddalan offered details of that which he had been asked, with Pallando occasionally interrupting the Zhâgaran about this detail or that, his soft, sibilant whisper carrying so much evil. He was well pleased with his minion’s work by the time they reached a tent, set aside from the others and well guarded by several well armed Zhâgarene warriors. However, he said nothing more than, “Leave me. Come to me in an hour. I have things I need do at once but there is yet much we must discuss.” Waving the back of his hand in a gesture of dismissal, he stooped and entered the tent, closing the flap behind him and straightening to his full height. Stretching his arms above his head to loosen his tired muscles first, he bent and picked up his bag, dropping it on a table set next to a cot. Opening it and slipping several odd vials and other items from it, he layed them before him, fingering each of them with a horrifying glee.
Farvo would soon join him and together they would begin the end of complacency of the men of Middle-Earth. The smile that crossed his face was pure evil.
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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| Halrohir |
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gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5808 Send Message |
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| Merides |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: May 28, 2009 06:23
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(Joint post between me, Bereth, Gwen and DD- thanks for the input, ladies!)
A short time later, a guard ran down the ramp from the Citadel, stopping abruptly in front of Radagast and after a quick salute, offering the wizard comforting words. "The King will see you, sir...all of you. And please bring the wagon with you, if you will."
Nodding, Radagast called out, "Come, friends, let's get this cart above." He turned to look up at Freawyn, sitting patiently on the cart's wooden seat. "And you, my fair child...soon you will meet the King. As I promised you, I will see to it that you find a safe yet happy abode to wait out this trying time."
Striding off toward the ramp, he called over his shoulder, "Come, my friends. We have an appointment with Eldarion to keep."
The King! The fact that she would truly meet the king of Gondor had not yet fully registered in her thoughts. What would he be like? Would he be willing to keep her in the Citadel? Surely he would allow her to work as a servant of sorts...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden realization that the cart had arrived, and someone was approaching them. He wore fine clothing, and was followed by Delagost and several men in uniform. Frea wondered for a moment who this important person could be- the doorwarden, perhaps, or the Steward?
The king strode forward to meet it, looking at the tarp with a dark expression before greeting first Idhrenion, then Berelach and his niece and Saelon, and turning last to the old man.
Giving the King a formal elven-style bow, “We are indeed again well-met, Hîr nín,” Idhrenion said, though knew he’d feel much more comfortable once the great Palantir was safely stowed. Berelach bowed, too, as befit his status of Admiral of the Fleet. A glance he gave his niece, seeing her curious look, and wondering what she’d think of meeting Gondor’s King.
"Greetings," he said quietly, looking at the Istar with an expression that didn't betoken whatever thoughts ran through his mind, "Let us get your burden safely inside, then we have many things to discuss."
Radagast nodded his head and acknowledged softly, "Your Highness." There would be time for talk and introductions once they had safely deposited the trunk inside the citadel. He glanced at Freawyn, smiling as it dawned on her who was standing before her.
She realized with a start that this was King Eldarion. That the ruler of Gondor and Arnor would come out to meet them was a shock to her- surely he had servants to greet them... but he was here.
She glanced at the back of the cart, to the tarp-covered chest. Was this the reason for his coming out? Her gaze settled on Radagast. Perhaps the wizard was the reason he had come to greet them... or maybe Idhrenion... She knew without a doubt that it was not on her account. Something was happening that was far beyond her search for family.
As they headed for the Citadel, the Admiral watched Frea’s wide-eyed wonder. “’Tis a beautiful place, isn’t it?” he commented to her, himself always awed by the White Tree and the elegance of the structure before them. "Aye, Uncle, it is," she replied in a reverent whisper.
Eldarion was quiet as they walked back into the hall, his mind busy with many thoughts. He directed his most trusted men- lead by Delagost- to take their burden to his study, closely guarded, and from there he planned to have it taken to the secret chamber in the top of the tower, from which Denethor had used a similar burden many years before. Delagost did as told, but once the trunk was safely tucked away, with men he knew were loyal guarding the door, he hurried back to the meeting room where the others were.
At hearing where Eldarion planned to secure the Palantir, Idhrenion nodded in satisfaction. It would be ‘safe’ there, he knew. And yet, even as they gathered for the ensuing discussion, the elf’s mind was running ahead… sorting out what further he’d learned on the journey, and preparing to speak of it in a concise report...
As they walked into the throne room, Freawyn found herself staring upwards at the tall columns, her neck craning to see the ceiling. Black pillars, white marbled floors, everything bespoke riches and formality. The statues along the sides of the room glared down at her, as if questioning why a poor Rohhiric girl would dare enter this room.
The poor rohhiric girl was relieved when the King led them to a smaller room, indicating that they should sit around a table. Refreshments were brought, and Freawyn began to stand, planning to help serve the food. Before she could, however, she caught Radagast's eye, seeing his amusement and realized that she was to sit, and be served. It was a new experience, and a strange one.
Radagast remained standing as he faced the young king. "Eldarion, it has been many years since last I saw you. You were but a small boy so I doubt you remember my visit to your parents. However, I am pleased to see you grown into a grand young man." Although he certainly respected the fact that Eldarion was the king of Gondor, his manner was comfortable and relaxed, more avuncular in nature than that of the king's subjects.
"Though you may not recall, my name is Radagast and I have come to aid you in any way that I am able." Smiling at those gathered around the table, he added, "I suspect you know everyone here except perhaps the young lady here," he rested his hand on Freawyn's shoulder. "Her name is Freawyn and she is your Admiral's niece as well as Borlas' grandaughter. While there is much to discuss this eve, not the least important is the need to keep this child safe. I think, given her gift of music and poetry, that she might well add to the joy of your court as a musician and bard. I ask that you consider this while we speak of more serious issues." With that, he lowered himself to his seat and reached out to grab a piece of cheese, popping it into his mouth with a groan of pleasure. He had not realized how hungry he was until then.
Freawyn blushed slightly at the compliments, hiding her face by looking down at her folded hands. She stayed quiet for the meal, simply listening to the discussions around her, while her thoughts swirled in her mind. She knew the Wizard had thought of a plan for her accomidations, but a musician in court? Surely she was not accomplished enough for that. Only the King himself could decide that, however.
"I may not remember your visit, but my parents spoke of you upon more than one occasion," Eldarion said as Radagast sat and partook of the meal, and he smiled slightly, "I am honored by your presence."
The king cast an eye at Freawyn, who was eating quietly and seemed altogether overwhelmed by the situation. "I am certain we can find a place for you, young Freawyn. You are most welcome here."
”Thank you, Your Majesty,” Berelach bowed slightly, and nodded at Radagast in thanks for doing the honors of his niece’s introduction.
"Now," he said, "Delagost has told me a bit of what has happened, but he hardly took a breath during his hurried explanation. I must know everything, and we must prepare to face this new threat, if it is not too late to crush it before it grows. This room is well guarded, and you may speak freely here."
Freawyn leaned forward in anticipation, eager to finally hear what this was all about.
[Edited on 5/31/2009 by Merides]
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| Dinenlasse |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: July 06, 2009 05:46
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(Joint post between Meri and me.)
“I have a job for you. There is a group of travelers about to leave the city. I need to have them followed.” Glancing at Falithor, his smile broadened. “One of them is your Admiral, Falithor, so I’d advise you to stay out of sight,” he chuckled. “I don’t know where they are headed, thus I know not how long your trip will be. But as soon as you discover their destination, I want you to return and tell me where it is.”
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Torsten. “This should be an easy task for you, being from Rohan. Horses are second nature to you, though you will more than likely have to prop Falithor up, him being more comfortable at sea than in a saddle,” he remarked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “You will be well paid.” Pulling a jingling pouch from his tunic, he tossed it on the table, spilling several gold coins. “This should give you an idea how well.”
Rhiannon’s eyes widened in surprise and horror as she eavesdropped on the conversation before her. Two men, one haughty soldier and the other a lighter man, of Rohan the soldier said. The latter man’s face visibly paled, and Rhiannon had an inkling that these men meant her sailor no good. She shifted her weight slightly, and the worn wooden floorboards creaked ominously. Holding her breath, Rhiannon froze, not moving an inch. But, the men must have been preoccupied with themselves for they left, the soldier first in a determined, proud manner, and the Rohanion followed, his steps fretful and slow.
With this new information and that which Falithor had let slip, Rhiannon knew she was privy to something much larger than her, much larger than Falithor, maybe much larger than the city itself. She needed to tell someone, but who? No one would pay attention to a bar wench, no matter how attractive, unless it would be for a night companion. Wringing her hands anxiously, she desired once again for a confidante, someone who would look past their differences and just be a good friend.
Her aimless footsteps took her out of the bar later that night, disguised under a cloak and a walking stick. The bartender did not know his best wench had gone, and if he noticed her departure, he said nothing. Indeed, he always hinted she should find a man and settle down. But at the moment, those thought did not cross Rhiannon’s mind. She sought someone, anyone who would listen.
Amidst the evening city dwellers, mostly soldiers and drunks, Rhiannon trod the cobblestone streets of the city. Unwittingly, after a half hour or so of movement, she came upon a white tree in the midst of a large, open, stone courtyard. Her little education gleaned from travelers’ stories indicated that this must be the White Tree of Gondor. While she did not know why it was important or what the story behind it was, Rhiannon was struck with a sense of awe anyways. But, her quick mind returned to her mission, and she wandered the courtyard, eyes searching out a friendly face. Taking a stance near the White Tree, Rhiannon sighed sadly. But one in the crowd caught her eye. She held the gaze and waited.
Freawyn stood along the edge of the courtyard, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. The tale she'd heard over supper answered all her questions, but revealed more danger than she'd ever expected. Blue Wizards, Palantiri, a Dark one... What had she been thinking, going out on her own after the three men? She had been only trying to help, but had she known the risk, how close she had come to the threat... she shook her head. No, she'd not think on that right now.
She'd think on the fact that she'd met the King of Gondor today. She had a job in his court, even! A bard could dream of little more. She would sing songs for him, relate tales, perhaps write an epic poem. The opportunities she'd been handed today were beyond even her secret dreams.
She looked around at the people in the crowd. All of them were here for some reason or another... she wondered what. A young woman, hooded and cloaked, was looking at her. Freawyn smiled and looked away quickly. After a few seconds, she glanced over again; the woman was still staring in her direction.
Their gazes met briefly, and while noticing the smile, Rhiannon was shy to return it. She quickly looked away and turned her back on the woman. There was no possibility that she would help someone as lowly as a bar wench. Looked down upon by society for their less-than-desirable means of income, Rhiannon was a member of the caste that did not mingle much with those of upper class. And clearly this women was, if not one of them, then certainly associated with them. The wench had learned to read people from her years as a maid. Since the age of fourteen she had catered to their whims and seen all sorts of people. This woman, roughly a year or so younger than her, appeared to be Gondorian or Rohirric by build and countenance and carried herself with confidence, bordering on pride.
Someone stumbled into her, and her disguise slipped. She stood up and cast around again, but no one noticed her. Sighing, Rhiannon glanced at the woman for a second time. Their eyes met again, and the maiden was disconcerted. She wanted to approach, but how did she know the young woman was to be trusted? Doubts overrode her confidence, and for once, Rhiannon's inquisitive nature failed her. She worried so for Falithor. What was he getting into? Why did he surround himself with those horrid men? Nothing good could come of it, not at all. These thoughts whirled around in her mind.
Mustering a small amount of courage and almost unwittingly, Rhiannon began to walk in younger woman's general direction.
Freawyn stared off into space for a short moment, then glanced once more in the direction of the woman. Trying not to be obvious, she turned and leaned on the wall along the edge of the courtyard, staring down at Pellenor fields, stretching before her.
It amazed her to think that, just a few short generations ago, a great war had been fought on that plain. She'd heard about it; she'd even sung songs about it; still, it amazed her.
Rhia slowly stepped toward the low stone wall that prevented the observer from toppling into the courtyards below but also afforded a magnificent view of a large expanse of land. Rhiannon had heard its name once or twice before and surmised that an important battle was fought here. "Cat's claws!" she cursed softly to herself for not remembering more. She would have to ask Falithor more about it.
Rhia edged her way along the wall until she was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the young woman who was about a head shorter than her. Without glancing sideways, she muttered out into the wind, hoping the woman would hear her, "What a sight, ain't it?"
"Hmmmm..." Frea responded, looking sideways at her. "A sight, yes, but a sad one, with its history. Kings have fallen on that battlefield," she said, waving an arm to indicate the plain. Ballads were still sung in Rohan about King Theoden's heroic death.
"Kings?" Rhiannon repeated, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice. "Like those in the War of the Ring? I've heard so much about it, but no one ever pays me mind to talk about it more. When you work as I do, it's hard to learn."
She paused, the southerly wind jostling her cloak. "What do you know of this field? What is it called? What part did it play in the War? Forgive me for being impudent, mistress," Rhia continued when she realized she was babbling, "'tis not my place to question you as such." She fell silent.
"Not at all... I don't mind telling you. It's nice to have someone to talk to..." she trailed off. Finally, she took a deep breath and began relating what she knew of the greatest battle of the century.
"This plain is known as Pellenor Fields. While the holbytla Frodo was nearing the end of his journey to destroy the Ring, Sauron gathered his forces and attacked Minas Tirith. He had already overtaken Osgiliath- his path was clear to conquer all of Gondor. Sauron's forces, led by the Witch-King, the greatest of the Nazgul, amassed the largest army ever seen- tales say that the entire field was black with the hordes of orcs, wildmen, Easterlings, and others. Some stories tell of great beasts, brought by the Haradrim from the south, that were as tall as great houses, perhaps taller."
Freawyn looked over at her listener, who seemed interested in the tale. Someone in an inn, long ago, had once told her to make sure that the audience was interested- Frea had made it a habit to check partway into the tale. She smiled at the woman, then turned her attention back to the field, her vivid imagination making it easy to see it black with enemies. She tried to describe the picture to the woman next to her.
"Imagine it- ranks upon ranks of soldiers, bearing foul banners. Great beasts, never before seen in Gondor, lined up with catapults, siege towers, and a great battering ram. The hordes begin chanting, "Grond... Grond..."- the name of the battering ram. People are trapped inside the White City- women and children. Soldiers run through the streets, but they've never seen anything like this; they are terrified. Worse, a darkness has been over the city for days. A great cloud has blotted out the sun, originating in the east." Freawyn pointed out towards Mordor, where the ridge of mountains was visible in the distance. "Can you imagine it? Everyone in the city was terrified. Catapults begain to barrage the city- you could still see evidence of the damage, if you looked for it, I'm sure... Buildings crumbled, men were killed. Fell Beasts-" she saw the confusion on the woman's face- "Great winged creatures that the Nazgul rode- they flew in the skies; the terrible screams of the Nazgul riders paralyzed our soldiers.
"Gandalf the White- the greatest wizard of the time- rallied our troops, directing them in the absence of the Steward, Denethor. His story is a tale for another time, but suffice to say that he was not capable of leading at that time. Gandalf took charge, but even with his leadership, it was obvious we'd lose the battle.
"Then, in the north, a line of Riders from Rohan, my country, appeared on the horizon. They charged the ranks of Mordor's soldiers, cutting like a great knife into the massed horde. Unfortunately, even the great Eorlingas could not defeat all of Mordor's forces. The battle seemed lost- the age of men seemed over."
Frea looked around, amazed to see that several people were listening to her story. A bit embarrased, she continued, finishing her story quickly. "King Theoden, leader of the Eorlingas of Rohan, fell to the Witch King. His niece, the Lady Eowyn, had come to the battle, disguised as a rider named 'Dernhelm' - the name simply means 'hidden helm'. Eowyn, seeing her uncle fallen, attacked the Witch King. He laughed at her. 'No man can kill me,' he told her. Eowyn removed her helmet, revealing herself to be a woman, telling him, 'I am no man.' With the help of the holbytla Meriadoc Holdwine, she slew the Witch King. Unfortunately, it was too late for King Theoden- he met his doom on this field.
"There was still little hope for Men- the hordes of Mordor were too great. Suddenly, Corsair ships were sighted on the horizon. The enemies were to be reenforced by these pirates. Pirates did not disembark, however." Freawyn's face lit up- this was her favorite part. "To the great joy of Men, King Elessar, along with the elf Legolas and the dwarf Gimli, led a great army of the dead to destroy the legion of Mordor's forces. They swarmed throughout the field and the city, obliterating the enemies. Men had won the Battle of Pellenor Fields, though at great loss."
Rhia listened enraptured throughout the entire narrative, aware others were listening in as well. A strong breeze caught her hood and lifted it from her head, causing tendrils from her plait to fly free. As it ended, she muttered in awe, "Indeed? I had heard pieces of the legend, but never in full. Thank you, mistress, for telling it to me. 'Tis so incredible that it is almost unbelievable." Rhiannon paused, returning her gaze from her newfound companion's fair face to the plain. Figures formed in her mind's eye, a dark, ominously grey sky. Smoke filled the air, creating a haze that covered the entire plain. Little black figures like ants scuttled around in patterns. Some wore the armour of men, some the armor of the enemy.
A person bumped into Rhiannon, startling her from her reverie. A large, well-formed man filled her view, and before she could say anything, he had his arm around her waist and was pulling her along with him away from her companion. "Come with me, miss. Ye remember me, darlin'? 'Tis Gherant, from Minas Tirith."
Frea's eyes widened in shock at his bold advance towards her new friend- for, even though she'd not yet spoken to this girl before today, she felt drawn towards her... perhaps it was simply a need for female companionship, for it had been years since she'd had a friend her own age and gender; perhaps it was something more. She did not know. What she did know was that this man- this Gherant- was not the kind of person she'd expected to the young woman to know.
Instead of fighting, Rhiannon smiled into his eyes seductively, glancing from underneath her eyelashes. He was drunk, that was plain to see, and the wench would use this to her advantage. "How could I not?" she teased, cuddling in closer to him. "What fun we had that night! The moon bright above us, the river flowing in front of us, the light wind blowing around us. 'Twas a pretty night." Sidling sideways, turning in circles, she had him far enough away from the wall so she could slide out of his arms, and in turn, the soldier Gherant twirled into the arms of an older woman, who proceeded to beat him with a cane. He yelped and took off running.
Returning to the young woman, Rhia apologized profusely. "'Twas a man I came across a year or so ago. I beg pardon, mistress." She blew out air angrily. Recovering, she continued, "What happened to everyone after the War? The Dark Lord was defeated, but what happened to Gandalf and the holbytla-she stumbled over the unfamiliar word-?"
Frea tried to hide her embarrassment by returning to the story, after clarifiying on one matter. "I'm not a 'mistress', friend. My name is Freawyn- feel free to call my by name."
"Freawyn? What a pretty name, my friend. I am Rhiannon," the wench replied, holding out her hand and shaking Freawyn's emphatically. "'Tis a pleasure to meet you. But continue with your tale."
"Tales vary as to the ends of the Fellowship. Gandalf was seen in various parts, before dissappearing from stories. Some say that he, along with Frodo and Bilbo, both holbytla, sailed to the West, to the Undying Lands of the elves. Legolas, the elf, and his friend, Gimli the dwarf, were reported to have journeyed together to Fangorn Forest and the Glittering Caves, leagues North of here. One tale says that they both also ended their days sailing into the West. Aragorn, or Elessar, of course, became King of the reunited kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor." There was a murmur of agreement from her listeners. "Samwise, Meriadoc, and Peregrin, the other holbytla, were seen in various parts of Middle Earth in the next sixty years. Samwise is said to have been the third of his race to sail to the Undying Lands. Meriadoc and Peregrin are buried here, in Minas Tirith-Rath Dínen is their resting place."
"Quite a story, to be sure," Rhia remarked at the end of the tale. "And to think that all this happened only a short while ago. But, thanks to their bravery, we may now live in peace...or so it would seem." The maiden's eyes clouded at the quizzical look on her newfound friend's face. "Come, mistress---Freawyn---let us get a drink at a nearby tavern." Rhiannon was not sure she could completely trust Freawyn, but in all likelihood, what harm could be done in confiding something of what she had overheard?
(And I need to apologize for the horrible tardiness of this reply. Rest assured the next one will not take as long. I am sorry for any inconvenience.)
[Edited on 7/7/2009 by Dinenlasse]
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 03, 2009 06:08
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The sun broke the dark of the night and Radagast was already up, packed and ready to go, though the group would not leave until later that day once they had given their farewells to Eldarion. Meanwhile, however, there were supplies to be purchased and a messenger sent to Emyn Arnen to Saelon's father, advising him that the King had sent him on a mission. Saelon had agreed to come but he had worried greatly about the reaction of his father at his sudden leaving for an indeterminate period of time. It was Berelach who came up with idea to place the 'blame' on the King (provided of course that Eldarion would agree to take it) and Radagast smiled slyly, nodding his head. "He will, trust me. I'm sure Ren and I can persuade him," he chuckled, glancing at Ren for confirmation.
But now, he found he was hungry. Leaving his room, he walked to the room next to his and knocked softly on the door. When it opened, he said, "Good morn, Ren. I'm in need of sustenance. Will you join me in the common room to break our fast?" Peeking over Ren's shoulder and espying the strewn papers scattered about the room, added, "When you're ready, of course. I'll go on ahead now. Perhaps Berelach will be there ahead of both of us." Chuckling, he walked away towards the staircase to the lower level. Entering the common room, he saw the young Admiral already seated at a large round table near the window overlooking the street. Making his way through the room, weaving around tables, he joined Berelach. "Lovely morning, is it not?" he said as he seated himself. "Ren will join us shortly. Where is Saelon?" Looking over his shoulder, he turned back to the Admiral. "We need to purchase our traveling supplies this morning as we must also set time aside to visit with Eldarion. If Saelon does not arrive soon, perhaps you'd be so kind as to go awaken him."
Saelon had slept well beyond his normal rising time. It was the sun crossing his face that woke him and he sat up abruptly, in panic that his father had not wakened him. It took a moment to recall where he was and his eyes surveyed the room. Drapes of heavy velvet, the deep soft mattress upon the huge four poster bed, the heavy ornate armoire and chest. Never had he slept in such comfort before, which probably explained why he had slept so long. Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he walked to the bowl on the stand in the corner, pouring water into it from the pitcher at its side. Using a soft cloth, he bathed himself from head to foot, drying himself with an equally soft towel before digging into his pack and pulling out a full sleeved white shirt and a pair of dark trousers. Dressing quickly he yanked on his scruffed-toed boots, glaring at them with disgust. "I should have polished them," he mumbled to himself, as he hurried from the room and down the stairs, bursting into the common room only to find Berelach and Radagast already eating at a table near the window. Abashed, he slunk towards them, his head lowered. "Sorry, I .. I overslept," he stumbled through his greeting.
Rad winked at Berelach, then looked up at Saelon. "Sit, son. It's not that late. And we're still waiting for Ren so enjoy your breakfast. The three men chatted quietly while they ate, mostly about what they would need for a journey such as they would be taking. "Saelon, we'll send a messenger to your father, and he can return the cart and the pony at the same time. However, that will put you in need of a horse. We will need to ask Eldarion if he has one to spare and if not, we will need to find a stable. I believe there is one on this level if needed. Am I not correct, Berelach?"
Ren appeared suddenly and so quietly, only Radagast heard his approach. "Ah, good morning, my friend. You are just in time. Eat quickly as we are about to go shopping." Turning his head, he glanced up at the elf and smiled, waving his hand towards an empty seat. When the serving girl came to the table, Radagast waited until Idhrenion ordered and then asked the maiden, "Perhaps a cup of herbal tea would serve me well, if you would."
When they finished their repast, the four men headed out to the third level where they purchased all they would need to travel to meet up with Berelach's father. Returning to the Golden Feather, they gathered their belongings and then made their way to the Citadel. Meeting Delagost on the 6th level as they climbed upwards to the courtyard of the Citadel, the party found themselves face to face with Baldir, the Captain of the Citadel Guards. The tall soldier stood before the entrance doors, his silver eyes narrowed, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes moving between Radagast and Idhrenion, he yet spoke to Delagost.
"So, Lieutenant Delagost, you are given time off from you duties, yet you cannot seem to tear yourself away." His eyes turned to Delagost. "What can we do for you and your ..... friends," he asked, his lips curling at the last word.
Radagast stared at the Captain, waiting for Delagost to respond that they had a meeting with the King, and ready to step in if the lad wasn't able to face down the tall man before them, but a small smile crossed his lips as Delagost met the challenge...just as he had expected the young man to do.
Baldir's eyebrows rose questioningly but at that moment, the King himself walked through the door behind him. At his King's words, Baldir stiffened and stepped aside, placing his hand over his chest and bowing. "Your Highness." Eldarion stepped forward, greeting the men before him. As he invited them to pass, he glanced at Baldir before entering himself.
Baldir had been waved off and those lowly creatures were invited inside? He was fuming with rage and could not wait until he found out what they were up to so he could share the knowledge with the Dark One. He had one guard inside the Citadel who he knew would try his best to overhear whatever conversation took place, though there was no guarantee of that. Eldarion was pretty careful not to allow guards inside his private study but if there was a way...............
Radagast opened the conversation with a query about Freawyn. "Has she settled in, your Highness? I think she will be happy here until her uncle," he nodded towards Berelach, "and hopefully her grandfather as well, return. At least we will know she is safe until such time."
Saelon whispered to himself, though he was heard by all, most of whom chuckled. "Just watch her closely. She has an annoying habit of sneaking off without warning." He was still irritated that she had slipped away during 'his watch'.
They continued on, discussing those things that were of most concern to them all. The palantir was obviously a major one though they all felt confident that it would be held in safekeeping by the King. Radagast did give a small warning to Eldarion. "It would not be wise to make any use of it, as our enemies have one of their own. Best to leave it dark and asleep for now."
As they prepared to leave, Radagast turned to the King. "Eldarion, beware of Baldir...and any potential minion he may have aiding him...even here within the walls of the Citadel. Trust no one unless you are absolutely certain they can be trusted." He laid his hand gently on the shoulder of the young King. "Mithrandir was here for your father....I shall be here for the son of Elessar."
When the reached the 6th level, by order of the King, a horse was brought out for Saelon, as well as Shadowlance, Eluvorn, and Berelach's horse, all groomed and well fed, ready for the long journey. Radagast turned to Delagost. "I could wish you were joining us but in truth, I am relieved that we will have one confidante here keeping watch in both Minas Tirith and Emyn Arnen. We will send a ranger to stay in your village. Should you have need of us, send him to us. We will do the same in return if there is any news we feel you should know. Keep the faith, Delagost," he added, resting his hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder. "At least we are now aware of the shadows that are growing around us. That puts us one step ahead of those that would hide their actions from us."
The three men and the elf mounted and headed down through the city towards the gates of the city. The sun had already begun its descent into the west and the streets and alleyways were full of shadows. Perhaps that is why none of them noticed the two men waiting in one of the darkest of the shadows in a small side street near the gates. One was the sailor Falithor and next to him on an old farm horse was his cousin, Kermin, who wasn't certain what they were doing or where they were going as Fal had grabbed him just after he dropped off his potatoes at the city market. Falithor had told him nothing, needing only someone to travel with him, thus his poor cousin, who had grown up with Falithor more like a brother than a cousin, was more than willing to give Fal a hand but it would have been helpful to know more about what they were doing and how long they'd be gone. He did have a farm to tend, after all.
"Falithor, I'll agree, the payment for following a group of men is more than good but why are we following them? Who are they? Where are they going? How long will be on their trail?" Kermin asked in a string of questions that was not only hastily spoken but possibly loud enough for the men on the trail in front of them to hear.
[Edited on 13/11/2009 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: November 05, 2009 05:09
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The meeting with the King, Idhrenion thought, and when shown to a room at the Golden Feather, politely thanked the servant who did so. Left alone, he settled his things, but instead of retiring for the night, returned to studying his books.
Time, thereafter, meant nothing to Idhrenion as he read, and reread, and made more notations for himself.
His papers and tomes were rather scattered (though the elf knew quite well what was where), and the sun rising when Idhrenion was interrupted by a quiet knock at his door. Blinking in surprise, he saw it was the old Wizard. “Good day,” he greeted Radagast.
"Good morn, Ren. I'm in need of sustenance. Will you join me in the common room to break our fast?" Peeking over Ren's shoulder and espying the strewn papers scattered about the room, added, "When you're ready, of course. I'll go on ahead now. Perhaps Berelach will be there ahead of both of us."
Glancing behind himself, “I shall not be too long,” Idhrenion promised, though whether the Admiral would be before them he could not say.
Closing the door again, the elf took time to quickly, but thoroughly, get himself bathed and changed into fresher clothes. His short hair was nothing to get neatened, and after carefully stowing his volumes and papers in readiness for departure, Idhrenion went to join Radagast and whoever else might be there…
******************************
Satisfied that his niece would be well situated in Eldarion’s care, Berelach was glad to be given a comfortable room in which to stay the night. Calling for a bath, he soaked himself for some time - very much needing it to calm his anxiety to get to his father - and then gratefully fell into bed.
The night passed quickly for the Gondorian Admiral, no dreams came to ‘bother’ him. - At least, if he did dream, they were forgotten upon his rising.
Glancing out the window, Berelach saw it was still early. Well-used to catching only a few hours of sleep at a time, he knew it was not just that which had him up. No, he was quite anxious to see how his father was faring…and got up to ready himself both for the day and the journey.
Finding himself hungry, though, he headed to the common room. Though a number of people were there, he saw none of his companions. Hoping they‘d not be long after him, Berelach found a quiet table by the window and ordered himself something to eat.
Berelach was barely into his meal when he saw Radagast coming in through the doors. Catching the Wizard’s eye, he waved him over.
"Lovely morning, is it not?" he said as he seated himself. "Ren will join us shortly. Where is Saelon?" Looking over his shoulder, he turned back to the Admiral. "We need to purchase our traveling supplies this morning as we must also set time aside to visit with Eldarion. If Saelon does not arrive soon, perhaps you'd be so kind as to go awaken him."
Nodding thoughtfully, but with a grin at Saelon’s apparent tardiness, “If need be,” Berelach agreed. “When we’re ready, I’ll take us to a shop I know. I always get my supplies there when I’m in Minas Tirith,” he went on. “The shopkeeper’s a fine fellow… no raising prices just because he knows my rank,” the Admiral grinned.
The two of them were still eating when Saelon arrived. Berelach thought nothing of his friend’s lateness - for they’d not planned any set time for meeting. - But, as Saelon joined them, the Admiral repeated his offer of a good shop for their supplies, and entered into a discussion of what they would need.
“Saelon, we'll send a messenger to your father, and he can return the cart and the pony at the same time. However, that will put you in need of a horse. We will need to ask Eldarion if he has one to spare and if not, we will need to find a stable. I believe there is one on this level if needed. Am I not correct, Berelach?"
“Yes, there is,” the Admiral nodded. “With the seriousness of our task,” he added quietly, “I doubt the King would begrudge Saelon a mount,” and smiled at his friend.
Neither he, nor Saelon heard when Idhrenion joined them - it was Radagast’s greeting that made Berelach look up to see the elf standing there.
Nodding politely to the others, Idhrenion quietly bade the serving-girl to bring him some fruit and a cup of hot tea - none the worse for being up all night studying.
Breakfast done with, the four of them left to do their shopping - the elf merely curious at the shop and the things that were bought. Elves could live off the land - even a scholar like himself…
Everything ready then, they were headed back to the Citadel for a last conference with Eldarion when Delagost joined them, and the five then continued on to the highest level of the White City. When they were stopped by the Captain of the Guard, Berelach’s gaze was ‘hard’. Not often did he see such insolence, and though he knew the Fleet was none of Baldir’s business, the man’s rank as Admiral *certainly* deserved respect, and his attitude toward Delagost was most definitely offensive.
Idhrenion merely watched… his eyes steady. - No, this one was not to be trusted, of that, he was sure. A glance at the Wizard, and he knew Radagast ‘felt’ it as well.
When the King appeared, Berelach knew a smug satisfaction when the Guard Captain was brushed aside, and himself was eager to hear how Freawyn was doing. He griped at himself for being more concerned about Borlas, and wished he’d thought to seek her out before breakfast. - But then, it had been quite early, too. She seemed a capable girl - mostly, anyway, but what trouble she would find in Minas Tirith he couldn’t imagine. No… his niece was safe here, and that’s what mattered.
As they prepared to leave, Radagast turned to the King. "Eldarion, beware of Baldir...and any potential minion he may have aiding him...even here within the walls of the Citadel. Trust no one unless you are absolutely certain they can be trusted." He laid his hand gently on the shoulder of the young King. "Mithrandir was here for your father....I shall be here for the son of Elessar."
After they’d spoken more with Eldarion, Idhrenion nodded his agreement when Radagast gave warning. The King *must* be careful!
Bowing to Eldarion as they turned to leave, Idhrenion was glad to retrieve Eluvorn and head for the city gates. As the Wizard, the scholar elf spoke encouragingly to Delagost - and inwardly admired the man’s bravery. He would be an asset in his position, but Idhrenion new more that he’d not yet shared. Nothing for Delagost, but… and, not until they were well away from the White City did the ellon speak of what more he’d learned overnight.
Speaking thoughtfully, “I have reviewed again what both Hîr Elrond and Mithrandir have said in their writings. Though he gave no specifics, Gandalf *did* write that the Dark One who is gathering this evil toward himself would suffer at least one setback. It may be that your father’s rescue is one,” and the elf glanced at Berelach. “Another may be what has already been sensed… a possible ‘break’ between the two Blue Wizards. But, this breach will not come from within - it must come from outside. It seems,” Idhrenion went on solemnly, “that we must find a way to turn one of them from his current path.”
“How can we?” Berelach asked, looking at the elf and then Radagast and Saelon. “That,” Idhrenion replied, “may be something your father can tell us, or,” he went on, “perhaps it is something I have yet to discern from the books.”
“Either way,” the Admiral griped, “We need to get to my father,” and wondered if they were yet far enough away to quicken their horse’s pace. And no one, not even Idhrenion was aware they were being followed…
"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: November 11, 2009 10:54
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(Give me a kick if I need to edit anything!)
Falithor had gone to bed after leaving Torsten, his mind busy. What did Baldir have in mind for them to do? He felt no excitement or sense of adventure, just wariness and, dare he think it, a sense of dread. It hadn't really left him since his meeting with the Dark One. He wondered if Baldir always felt that hovering darkness, or if his own heart was so black it didn't phase him.
The next day around Three he rounded up Torsten and they headed for the 'Bane, the sailor eager to get a drink to calm his nerves. They spotted Baldir and he lead them to a table in a far corner, away from the few patrons there so early in the day. When he had his mug he drank deeply, not liking the Captain's smile.
“I have a job for you," Baldir began,"There is a group of travelers about to leave the city. I need to have them followed.” Glancing at Falithor, his smile broadened. “One of them is your Admiral, Falithor, so I’d advise you to stay out of sight,” he chuckled. “I don’t know where they are headed, thus I know not how long your trip will be. But as soon as you discover their destination, I want you to return and tell me where it is.”
Falithor nodded slowly, but the aspect of being caught spying on Berelach wasn't a pleasant one. Of course, he couldn't- and wouldn't - refuse. Another swig of ale was in order as Baldir turned his attention on the man of Rohan.
“This should be an easy task for you, being from Rohan. Horses are second nature to you, though you will more than likely have to prop Falithor up, him being more comfortable at sea than in a saddle,” he remarked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “You will be well paid.” Pulling a jingling pouch from his tunic, he tossed it on the table, spilling several gold coins. “This should give you an idea how well.”
The sight of the gold glinting in the light from the windows made Falithor smile despite Baldir's sarcastic remarks about his ability to ride a horse, and he nodded his dark head. "We won't fail you, Captain," he promised, "I swear it."
*******************************
The meeting with the king was like something out of the old stories, Delagost couldn't help thinking to himself. He put in his own thoughts when he thought they were needed, but he was mostly quiet. Here he and his best friend sat at a meeting with the King of Gondor, one of the Istari, and elf, and an Admiral of men- something he would have thought terribly exciting as a child.
At the end of the meeting it was decided that Saelon, Berelach and Idhrenion would accompany Radagast on a journey to wherever Borlas was, and that Delagost would remain behind. He was not sure he liked that decision. He wanted to be of help- yet he did feel anxious leaving the king. What if Eldarion's life was in danger? Anyone could be under Baldir's influence. Plus, he preferred to be where he could keep an eye on his Captain... though he worried for his family back home... and Cenewith.
After walking with the others to the Golden Feather and bidding them goodnight, he went to his own quarters on the sixth level. He didn't speak to anyone else, and no one thought his presence odd- many men still used their quarters for sleeping during their time off their duty.
It was difficult to sleep, though. So many things ran through his mind and he was almost afraid that Baldir would stab him while he slept.
Early the next morning he rose and went to have breakfast for himself at one of the common inns. He was a friend of the cooks and they let him add the cost to a bill to be paid later. Although he could have joined the others for breakfast at the Golden Feather, he didn't want to lead Baldir to them there, and he didn't want to run into his Captain at all if he could help it.
He met his friends as they were climbing upward and greeted them with a wan smile. He was most worried about Soelan. He didn't want his friend to get hurt going off into the wild- and it was all too obvious that they were up against some very dangerous foes.
At the gate to the Citadel they found Baldir, standing tall and straight, his strong arms crossed across his broad chest. Delagost swallowed anxiously, especially when the Captain looked hard at Radagast and Idhrenion. Baldir would know he had lied before about knowing 'nothing' about the old man spotted in Emyn Arnen- but of course, he probably already did. Then, the cold man spoke.
"So, Lieutenant Delagost, you are given time off from you duties, yet you cannot seem to tear yourself away." His eyes turned to Delagost. "What can we do for you and your ..... friends," he asked, his lips curling at the last word.
"Begging your pardon, Captain, but my time off is mine and I needn't explain it. We have a meeting with the king," he said firmly, knowing this was no time to be a coward, "Lord Eldarion is expecting us, sir."
The way Baldir's eyebrows rose made Delagost wonder if he would pay for his words later, but then the king appeared in the doorway.
"They are expected indeed. Move aside, Captain, if you please."
Eldarion looked sharply at Baldir, knowing this man betrayed him and wanting nothing more than to lock him up at once- but he had to be handled carefully. His anger could be seen in the stiffness of his bow. The king nodded in greeting not to him, but to the others. "Come, my friends," he said, and after they had all passed, he glanced at the Captain and entered himself.
Delagost let out a long sigh, dreading his next meeting with Baldir. However, he turned his attention to the words being spoken at hand. Radagast asked after Freawyn, and he grinned at his friend's words about her habit of wandering off.
They continued on, discussing those things that were of most concern to them all. The palantir was obviously a major one though they all felt confident that it would be held in safekeeping by the King. Radagast did give a small warning to Eldarion. "It would not be wise to make any use of it, as our enemies have one of their own. Best to leave it dark and asleep for now."
"Of course," Eldarion nodded, "I will not touch this thing unless I absolutely must. The risk is far too great."
As they prepared to leave, Radagast turned to the King. "Eldarion, beware of Baldir...and any potential minion he may have aiding him...even here within the walls of the Citadel. Trust no one unless you are absolutely certain they can be trusted." He laid his hand gently on the shoulder of the young King. "Mithrandir was here for your father....I shall be here for the son of Elessar."
"And your help is appreciated more than you know, my friend," Eldarion said, truly glad that Radagast was working against the new shadow and that he was not alone in this. "I have those I trust, and I would trust them with my life. You need not fear for me while away."
The king glanced at Delagost and the young man felt himself swell with pride, despite the seriousness of the situation. He was very lucky, he knew, to be so trusted by his king.
Soon, it was time for his friends to depart. Delagost went with them to the sixth level where their mounts were prepared. The young soldier sighed, not liking being left behind. Seeming to sense his thoughts, Radagast turned to him.
"I could wish you were joining us but in truth, I am relieved that we will have one confidante here keeping watch in both Minas Tirith and Emyn Arnen. We will send a ranger to stay in your village. Should you have need of us, send him to us. We will do the same in return if there is any news we feel you should know. Keep the faith, Delagost," he added, resting his hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder. "At least we are now aware of the shadows that are growing around us. That puts us one step ahead of those that would hide their actions from us."
"Yes, you are right," Delagost agreed, bowing slightly. He turned to Saelon and gripped his friend's hand in parting. "Promise me you will take care."
He said farewell, and then to Berelach, Idhrenion and the wizard, standing and watching as they set out, heading down for the gates and the wilds beyond.
He prayed they would be safe, and that nothing dangerous would confront them.
Delagost sighed again and straightened his posture. Turning, he strode back toward the Citadel. He would tell Eldarion that their friends had gone, and find out what the king wanted him to do. He certainly had to do 'something'- if he were to wander around the city aimlessly waiting for word from Radagast, he would lose his wits.
* * *
Falithor was not feeing particularly confident about following the old man and his friends. An elf there was, and who'd ever heard of following an elf without being spotted? But that was what they'd been told to do, so they had no choice. If they were spotted... well, they'd either have to talk their way out of it or make use of their swords. He hoped that didn't happen- Baldir only wanted to know where they were going. If any of them turned up dead, he might be unhappy.
Another problem was his companion. It wasn't Torsten, as had been planned. The Rohannian had backed out, claiming a message had come from his father that called him home at once. Fal had his doubts about that- but by a happy (or not-so-happy) chance he'd bumped into his very own cousin, Kermin, in the city as he'd frantically wondered what to do about Torsten's departure. There had been no time to seek out Baldir and round up someone else to accompany him (and he hadn't wanted to get the Captain angry anyway), and he certainly couldn't go alone. So, he'd grabbed Kermin and told him he needed his companionship on a journey. His cousin- who he'd been very close with when they'd been younger- readily agreed, and Fal offered no details. He felt regret for pulling his cousin into this, but what else could he do? Hopefully he would be able to keep Kermin none the wiser to what he was really up to, and get him back home again safely once it was over.
"Falithor, I'll agree, the payment for following a group of men is more than good but why are we following them? Who are they? Where are they going? How long will be on their trail?" Kermin asked in a string of questions that was not only hastily spoken but possibly loud enough for the men on the trail in front of them to hear.
"Kermin!" Fal hissed, and would have reached out to grab his cousin's collar had he not been afraid he would topple from the saddle, "Quiet!"
Looking forward with his sharp eyes, the sailor waited anxiously to see their quarry turn- but even the elf didn't seem to have heard, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"They're... well, I'm following them on behalf of the Captain of the Citadel Guard- but we must be silent. It's very important that they don't know we're following them- alright?"
Sighing, and offering him a brotherly smile, "Just keep it down, Kermy- I don't know how long we'll be out, but we'll head back to the city as soon as we can."
[Edited on 13/11/2009 by dreamdancer]
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| Dinenlasse |
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| Merides |
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| BerethEdhellen |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: November 24, 2009 09:35
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The young guard, Dorian, still new to the Citadel Guard, stood at attention next to the main door to Royal Palace. He noticed two women coming towards him and his eyes lit at once on the lovely one with the pale blue dress and the brown tunic so that at first he did not notice her companion. He had seen her arrive with the group of men and had heard that she would now be a member of the King’s court as the new bard. He had been immediately smitten, thinking her the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He stiffened even more, wanting to impress her with his role, though he realized she would probably never notice him.
It was then he noticed the woman with her. Her hair was greasy and tangled and looked as though it hadn’t been washed or brushed in an age. Her garments were little more than rags and filthy. Her shoes were worn with holes in them. Where did she think she was going? he wondered. And what was she doing with the fair Freawyn?
When they both arrived at the door, and it seemed that they both were planning on entering, he dropped his lance across the doorway, halting them in their steps. “Pardon me, m’lady,” he began, almost stuttering. “Uh, you may enter, of course, but your..your…um…friend cannot.”
He was blushing to the roots of his dark hair, especially when he saw the expression on Freawyn’s face…and yes, he knew her name was Freawyn, he had asked and thought it as lovely a name as she was. But he wasn’t going to be her favorite person the look told him. Searching the area for any witnesses and seeing none, he took Freawyn’s arm and led her gently away from the door and out of hearing of the other woman.
“M’lady, I don’t wish to hurt your feelings but,” he stopped, trying to think of a polite way to say what he needed to say. Taking in a deep breath then exhaling in a whoosh, he stood up straight and tall and continued. “Your companion cannot enter the King’s royal quarters. Have you looked closely at her garb, her mien. Is there no way you could….perhaps you could…a bath, perhaps, another dress?” He knew he was red faced and he was stuttering but he wanted to help the lovely lady. But he also knew his place and knew that the woman would never be welcomed as she was in the King’s quarters. She was obviously a tavern wench or something even lower, though her face under the grime was quite attractive. If she were cleaned and dressed properly, she might actually be pretty.
Looking around the grounds and seeing they were still alone in the area, leaned forward, almost whispering. “Take her around to the door on the side. It leads to a short hallway only feet from the door to your chambers,” he hoped she wouldn’t wonder how he knew where she slept at night, “I know the King awaits your presence but he doesn’t know where you were when he sent for you so he won’t know how long it would take you to arrive. Take her to your room, offer her a water bowl and an old dress of yours,” and glancing at Rhia, he coughed and added, “And perhaps a comb….make her presentable. She could appear at your side as a maid or something. Please, M’lady. I only want to help you.” Smiling, he said finally, “I shall wait outside your room and accompany you to the great room.”
He waited to see her reaction to his suggestions, hoping she would be reasonable in her response.
----------------------------------------------------------
Her bruises were healing and her long sleeves covered the worst of them, so Cenewith resumed her visits to the poor of Emyn Arnen. But her heart was heavy as her mind raced to understand what had become of her loving brother. She didn't know this stranger who had bruised her arms and yelled at her, telling her to stay away from Delegost, or anyone, she imagined he meant.
Yet she liked Del, who was soft spoken and gentle...and very sweet and kindly. Sighing, she wondered how soon he would be returning to town. She knew he was off duty this month, and even more important, her brother was on duty. Perhaps if Delegost had been here they could have ridden together in her pony cart, talked, gotten to know each other, spent some time in the wild flower meadow....tears ran down her cheeks and she sniffled and wiped her nose before she entered the gate of the old couple she had come to see.
As she continued through town and then down the lane towards home, she watched the road from Minas Tirith, hoping to see the one rider she longed to see.
------------------------
Baldir was annoyed when one of his minions from the lower levels turned up outside his quarters. Looking around to see if anyone had seen this bedraggled, scruffy character standing in front of his door, he grabbed his collar and dragged him inside, closing the door quickly. "What in the name of the Valar are you doing here, you fool."
The man was literally quaking in his boots as he tried to explain his purpose. "S..Sir, I ran into Falithor last night and he left a message with me for you..told me I had to tell you right away." He was still hanging on the edge of his toes by the grasp of Baldir holding his collar still. "C..C..captain, someone named Torsten left the city. Falithor had to find someone else to join him so he says to tell you he took his cousin and that everything is going to be fine." He reached up and stuck his fingers between his collar and his neck, trying to pull it away from cutting off his air supply completely. He had no idea what the words he had spoken meant but he saw that it angered the Captain and he shook even more.
Baldir stared malevolently into his eyes before the Captain finally tossed him against the door frame. "Get out of here. And don't ever come here again. If you want to see me, you wait until I show up below." Opening the door, he tossed the man into the street and slammed the door behind him.
The man picked himself off the ground, shaking his head and sighing in relief. His feet began to run towards the lower levels, hoping to never see Baldir again.
Meanwhile, Baldir was in a rage. Torsten knew what he was getting into and yet he defied Baldir, left without a word even after having been warned. If the man ever returned to Minas Tirith, he was a dead man. Although he might not have to return to Minas Tirith, Baldir chuckled evilly. The tentacles of the Dark One reached far, very far.
-----------------------------
Radagast rode at Idrhenien's side, Shadowlance carrying him easily. They had moved through the gates and out onto the field of Pelennor, skirting the bottom wall of the great white city. There was a moment when he heard voices behind the group but this close to the city, it could have been anyone traveling to or from the city and thus it slipped his mind as they continued on their way. He was really far more interested in what Ren was saying. The elf had been pouring though one of his ancient books....he thought it was the one named "The Eye Opens"....even while riding on horseback. He had been quoting odds and ends to Radagast for the past hour, each one somehow confirming that the shadow they so feared had been predicted years ago by the two who would have known, the great Lord Elrond and Gandalf the White.
Saelon and Berelach rode behind the elf and the Maia, chatting to each other about those happenings during the time Berelach had been away, the amazing feat of Freawyn finding her uncle, and Saelon's delight in being on this mission, so far from home. Although he traveled into the forests to cull the trees for the much needed logs to build housing for the ever growing small towns and villages in the area, he had never been far from Emyn Arnen. Therefore, this trip into the northeast was exciting to him. "Berelach, have you ever sailed all the way up the Anduin to the Falls of Rauros?" he asked curiously.
The group camped near a small spring that Radagast knew about from his travels and the four sat around the small fire he had built. Having finished their meal, Radagast asked Idhrenion to share his findings with all of them, which the elf was only too willing to do. Radagast shared his own knowledge of the background of the two Blue Istari, explaining that they had been seduced by Sauron early on. Though he and Gandalf had tried to remind them of their purpose here in Middle Earth, they drifted further and further away, finally disappearing far into the east and beyond communication with their fellow Maiar. There was no telling what evil powers they could wield at this point in time.
During a quiet moment, Berelach asked where exactly they were going. Radagast finally admitted, "We are heading for Henneth Annun, where Borlas is being cared for by the Ithilien Rangers. I think we will find him quite recovered from his injuries...and certainly happy to see you, Berelach," he smiled confidently.
They settled down on their pallets for the night, Berelach and Saelon seemingly drifting into sleep quickly while Radagast lay awake a while longer, staring at the stars above him before finally resting himself. However, he did not sleep for long as he was awakened suddenly by Idrenion standing and staring off into the night.
"What is it, Ren?" he whispered quietly, his own sharp ears pricking as he listened for any sound that did not match the normal sounds of the night.
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 |
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| dreamdancer |
RE: A Shadow Rising.. (semi-scripted/players limited/pm to join) KEEP
on: December 10, 2009 11:41
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(ooc: I wasn't sure if Berelach and Saelon needed to be blind folded to be taken to the garrison? XD And ber, I wrote a snippet for Kermin... it just seemed to fit. Let me know and I'll edit what needs to be changed. Hope all this is ok!)
Sellerin and his rangers were scouting when they discovered the party of travelers, and he recognized the elf as one who had dwelled in Rivendell, where he had been often in his ranging. Idhrenion, he remembered the name. They had spoken more than once. He recognized Radagast as well, and late in the afternoon he revealed himself to them.
“Selliren!” Idhrenion greeted him, and introduced the remainder of the party.
"Mae Govannen,” he said, nodding respectfully to the wizard, the admiral and Saelon, “How have you fared on your journey? You have taken a rather rough road when easier paths were open to you.”
It was then revealed that they were being followed, and the ranger nodded, understanding instantly. “These so-called spies may insist on following however perilous the path. If they serve our enemy then it will take more than a rocky road to dissuade them. Do not worry- one of my men can guide you to the garrison where Borlas awaits, and the rest of us can handle your ’shadows’ - if that is an acceptable plan.”
It was agreed that this was the best option. Sellerin promised that he would learn all that he could about their enemy from the trackers. Farewells and good lucks were exchanged- Sellerin was concerned for Radagast and Idhrenion with the dark road before them- and everyone went in their intended direction. With a quiet word he bade farewell to his friend Gaddon, who would travel with Berelach and Saelon.
Then, with his remaining rangers- Carvir and Mellis- Sellerin left clear signs of the halt and split at the campsite and vanished into the woods, circling around toward the followers. They moved quietly and swiftly, and in their cloaks of green and brown they were nearly impossible to spot. Sellerin, had he but known it, had inherited the skill of his forefathers.
As they came to silently follow the trackers he was amused at just how loud the two men were. They were obviously not trained for this sort of thing. He signaled Carvir, who would signal Mellis, and prepared to approach the two men.
*************************************
Falithor was as miserable and frustrated as he had ever been. He was already bad at riding horses- that much was obvious- and after the first several hours he had been so sore and tired that he’d felt like collapsing. On top of that it seemed the group from Minas Tirith was determined to go over the roughest road they could find, and with his inexperience with horses, the sailor felt certain once or twice that he'd fall and crack his head or break something else.
Kermin had ceased with his questions for a while but by nightfall he had started again, wanting to know more about who they were following and why. Fal kept responding that he couldn't say, and tried to get a fire going. He didn't think about keeping quiet- he was tired, uncomfortable and frustrated- and finally he cursed the fire and let Kermin handle it, bundling himself up in a ball on the ground and glaring up at the trees. He rued the day he'd spoken to Baldir- he would much rather be on the ship, or with Rhia in the 'Bane than out here...
"Keep watch, Kermin," he instructed his cousin with a sigh, "Wake me in a few hours or if you hear anything, alright?"
The road continued to be difficult, and they fell far behind their quarry. It was left to them to track the group. Falithor, however, was a sailor. He read the stars, felt the wind, watched the waves- he knew very little about reading tracks, and he had to rely heavily on Kermin. When they came to a campsite he felt a wave of relief to know that they hadn't completely lost the trail, but after a bit of scouting it seemed the trail split into two directions, possibly more.
"Oh, of all the things to happen!" Fal groused quite loudly, "Which way now? Who went where, and which ones do we follow? What a wonderful day this is. I'd give anything to be back home with a drink instead of doing Baldir's work!"
Cursing and swearing he kicked a loose stone and looked at the ground again. He'd half a mind to turn tail and go back to Minas Tirith... but, he knew he couldn't. He had no idea where either part of the group was headed and he wasn't to return until he knew something solid. If he did he'd have a probably already wrathful Baldir to face, plus there would doubtless be repercussions from the Dark One. Gulping, and sighing, "Help me figure this out, Kermy... "
Falithor was bent over a crushed leaf (which looked only like a crushed leaf and showed him nothing of interest) with Kermin when he was suddenly aware of a figure standing next to them as though out of thin air. Looking up he leapt to his feet and reached for his blade, but the darkly dressed man pulled out a knife and held it close to the sailor's throat, even as two more men seemed to melt from the shadows, bows bent. One arrow was pointed at his cousin, which put a stab of fear into Falithor's heart, and the other was aimed at himself.
"Don't worry, Kermin," he said, glancing fear in the younger man's eyes. He felt horrible at once- what had he gotten his cousin into? These men looked to be rangers- he was in trouble now.
"Be silent," Sellerin said firmly, his face shadowed within the hood of his cloak, "Who are you, who have you been following, and why?"
"No one," Fal responded, wondering if he could pull out his sword and dodge fast enough to stick it in this fellow's gut and get away, "We're just travelers."
"Travelers in these parts are a rare thing. Where were you going, then, and right behind my friends?"
"To, ah..." Fal knew little of the surrounding lands, "To visit family..."
"You are spies," the ranger responded, cutting him off, "And not very good ones. Those you followed were aware of you already, and now you have no hope of following them any longer."
Sheathing his blade he drew out two strips of rope from his travel pack. "Keep your arrows on them," he ordered his comrades, then to their captives, "Cooperate with us and you won't be hurt. On your knees."
"Pfft," Fal scoffed, "I take orders from no one."
"No one except your wicked master, you mean. Do as I say or I will force you."
Despite the obvious danger of the situation (and the shaft aimed at his heart), Falithor's pride was shining through. Angry at the entire situation, and at being told what to do, "I should like to see you try it, wandering range-rat!"
In an instant Sellerin stepped closer and grabbed Fal's collar, hauling him forward as his other foot swept beneath the tall sailor's. He delivered a punch to Sellerin's back and then reached for his blade, but he toppled and the sword was dropped. He quickly reached out to reclaim his weapon but an arrow suddenly slammed into the earth right in front of his face, the shaft waving back and forth from the impact. He glanced up and saw that Carvir already had another in the string.
Cursing inwardly, Falithor had no choice but to let his hands be bound behind him, and Kermin's as well. They were forced to sit, the rangers with bows bentglaring at them unmoving. Sellerin looked through their bags but found nothing particularly incriminating, and then he stood before them with his arms crossed over his breast.
"Tell me who you serve, and what your orders were," Sellerin said firmly. "I am not unkind and I like mistreating no man, but times are dark, and desperate measures may be called for. You would do well to answer me."
"We're here on the authority of the Captain of the Citadel Guards," Kermin suddenly piped up, "We're not causing any trouble!"
Falithor winced, for of course that was the truth- but his cousin didn't know the full truth.
Sellerin nodded slowly. He had dealt with servants of the enemy before and he somehow felt that Kermin truly believed what he spoke. Falithor was the one who should talk.
"I see," he said, and turned his burning eyes on Falithor, "Is that true?"
"Yes," Fal said, wishing he could vanish into the ground. What could he do? If he stayed quiet he could get hurt or killed, and he wasn't prepared to die for Baldir or the Dark One, or to cause his cousin's death- yet if he were to somehow escape and return to Minas Tirith, death or worse would likely await him there for the mess he'd made.... he was stuck in a tangled web between two spiders, it seemed.
"What else?" the ranger knelt, "Speak."
Sighing again, the sailor finally gave in, "Baldir sent us to follow the group, to find out where they were going and why," Falithor said, "But I didn't find out anything."
"And Baldir, he does not serve the King of Gondor, does he?" Sellerin rose, "And neither do you. You serve a different master. You cannot see beyond your own greed, or maybe fear, to what your actions could cause. There is more at stake than your life and your worries, but men like you cannot see, or do not wish to."
Turning to his rangers, "Cover their eyes and get them on their horses. We are leaving."
"Wait, where are you taking us?" Falithor demanded to know, pulling against the bindings, "I told you what you wanted to know!"
"Silence," Sellerin ordered, and said nothing else. Falithor felt wretched and now the truth was out. He wondered if he could convince Kermin that the ranger had been lying, if they got the chance to speak- but he didn't know. He didn't have any idea where they were going, and with his hands soon tied to the saddle and his eyes covered with cloth, he was helpless.
The rangers didn't speak on the journey, at least not about anything important. They spoke to Falithor and Kermin on the trip, but nothing else useful was revealed. When the time came to sup the captives had to deal with the humiliation of being fed, for Sellerin wouldn't let their hands be unbound.
The moon was pale in the sky when they arrived to their destination. Falithor couldn't see it, of course, but the chill of the air told him it was night.
"Here we are," he heard the ranger's voice, "Get them down."
"Where are we?" Fal asked, but no answer came of course. He was forced to sit and he felt Kermin shoved down beside him, and their bags dropped nearby. The last he heard of the rangers was the sound of a cloak rustling in the wind, and then they seemed to be gone.
"Are you alright?" he asked Kermin, struggling against his bonds. Bending his neck, and though it was painful he managed after several attempts to use his shoulder to move the blindfold enough that he could see out of one eye. Falithor withered inside to behold the gates of Minas Tirith within walking distance, the city lights lighting the sky. He and his cousin had been left out in the open field, their horses a good distance away grazing.
"Oh, gods," he almost whimpered, thinking of facing Baldir, but he gulped, "I'll get us out of this in a moment, cousin..."
It was actually a good while (and some painful rope burns) before he managed to get himself loose. His sword was gone but he still had his dagger, and he cut Kermin free.
"There's too much to explain," he said, his voice downcast and weary, "You should just get your horse and head home before we get into any more trouble. I need... I have to go into the city."
***************************************************
Delagost had remained behind while the others left. He didn't like it but he saw the need for it. At first he simply kept an ear out and his eyes open, and avoided Baldir. He shuddered to think of what would happen if the Captain were to confront him alone on a dark street. He could hold his own in battle, but there was a reason Baldir was the Captain. The man was a skilled warrior, and Delagost didn't know if he could overcome him.
He knew too that he would soon need to leave the city. He was eager to return to Emyn Arnen anyway- the young guard was worried for his family, and he wanted to check on Cenewith. How horrible this must be for her, such a good, gentle soul as she to see her beloved brother succumb to wickedness. Del couldn't remember Baldir ever being particularly pleasant to be around, but in the past he had at least cared for his own sister.
After speaking to the king, Del decided it was time to go, before anyone could start asking questions. He was in his quarters packing up his few things and thinking of Saelon and the others. Where were they now, he wondered, and what were they doing? His thoughts were going to the dark possibilities when a knock sounded at the door. Heart leaping in surprise he whirled around to see a man standing in the doorway. It was not Baldir as he had feared but Dorian, a fellow guard and good fellow. Letting out a small breath, "Hello, Dorian. I am just preparing to return home. My sister will be getting impatient."
"I'd like a word with you first, please," Dorian said, his expression speaking of the importance of it. Wondering what was toward and feeling a bit wary, Del nodded.
"Of course," he said, "What's on your mind?" and waited for the other man to speak.
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Gaddon, the ranger friend of Sellerin, traveled with Saelon and Berelach. He found he liked their company, and it was not an unpleasant journey. He could see that they were eager to see Borlas was well with their own eyes, though- and before long (though it seemed too long to them perhaps) they arrived at Henneth Anuin. Gaddon quietly inquired as to where Borlas was resting, and seeing that the traveler's horses were tended, he walked with them to the particular area.
Halting outside the place, "He is within," Gaddon said, and nodded, "I will see that food and drink are brought, but I will not intrude on your meeting..."
[Edited on 10/12/2009 by dreamdancer]
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| BerethEdhellen |
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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: January 01, 2010 08:40
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Confident that the Ranger and his men would take care of the two (quite inept!) fellows who’d been trailing them, Idhrenion and Radagast turned eastward. As they went, the elf was thoughtful. After a time, “Is there anything else you can remember of Pallando or Alatar that would be of use to us, my friend?” he inquired. For, the short-haired ellon had a feeling he’d somehow ‘missed’ something in his studies. - Something that was… ‘hidden’, perhaps, in the veiled way that Hîr Elrond and Mithrandir had written their tomes.
Approaching the western edge of the Ephel Dúath, Idhrenion agreed that that path to Minas Morgul would be the best one to take. Leaving their horses behind, they headed onward.
Much as had Frodo, Sam and Gollum had done years back, they climbed to Cirith Ungol, noting as they did how little guarded the path was. "They are not yet thinking that we are aware," Rad spoke briefly.
“So it would seem,” the elf replied quietly, and was on intense alert as they passed through the cave of Shelob… she who had nearly eaten the Ringbearer on his Quest. A wave of appreciation for Frodo’s companion went through Idhrenion… Samwise, indeed, had done Middle Earth a great service!
Thankfully, though the two could hear small noises in the caverns, they were not approached by such offspring of the Great Spider that yet inhabited there, and eventually, came out to view the plains. In the distance, were the ruins of Orodruin, but that was not which held their interest. - No… spreading out on the plateau were tents upon tents, and a ‘sea’ of men and (perhaps?) ‘creatures’ that boded ill.
Surprised, and yet not, it was as Idhrenion had read. Like Sauron and Saruman, the Dark Lord’s minion before them, Pallando and Alatar had garnered a massive army.
"We need to get back to Eldarion, as quickly as possible, Idhrenion. There may be even less time than anyone imagined to prepare a defense."
“Indeed,” the elf agreed. “And before our presence is sensed,” Idhrenion added. “I could wish for a way to contact Alatar though… for, if he could be reclaimed, he would be a valuable ally. - Perhaps that is yet for us to do…”
Turning back, there was little more the ellon could think of to say, as he and Radagast once again traversed through Shelob’s cave and returned to their mounts. Urging them to the best speed possible (though Eluvorn struggled to keep up with the Meara), the elf and wizard headed for Minas Tirith…
***************************************************
Glad to be ‘rid’ of their pursuers, Berelach was glad of Ranger support as he and Saelon traveled to find his father. The man’s name was Gaddon, and a likable fellow, in the Admiral’s opinion.
Ere long, they came to Henneth Annun, feeling an impatience once again to see for himself that Borlas was all right.
Halting outside the place, "He is within," Gaddon said, and nodded, "I will see that food and drink are brought, but I will not intrude on your meeting..."
Gripping the Ranger’s arm in gratefulness, “Thank you,” Berelach replied, and knocking softly on the door, “Father?” he softly called. “Father - it’s Berelach!” and followed by Saelon, entered to hug Borlas as tightly as he dared. “Are you healing all right?” he then ask, *very* anxious to know how his one remaining parent was faring…
***********
Alatar did not say much as he and Pallando reviewed the camp with Rhuddalan, though he was uneasy that the trove of unborn Uruk Hai had been discovered. He was certain that Rhuddalan would carry out the Dark One’s commands quite efficiently - better dead than bribed was best, and orcs always chilled the hearts of Men who faced them…
When they had seated themselves comfortably in Pallando's tent, food was delivered to them and Pallando ate quickly, eager to begin their plans. He leaned back on his camp chair, and began to speak even though Alatar was still finishing his meal. "Rhuddalan tells me we have 4000 foot soldiers with 500 mounted, including archers. Another 1,000 lancers will arrive shortly. Even though the active armies of Middle Earth are no where near what they were in the days of Sauron, we could still use more. 500 Uruk Hai will help. Add that to the random gatherings of orcs to work under the Uruks and we may come closer to 7,000. How many Hillman can you account for?"
Smiling darkly, “Four thousand should be here in the next day or so,” Alatar replied, and nodded at mention of their Wizardly ’tricks’. As the leader of the Zhâgarene was sent for, however, Alatar wondered about Radagast. On their tour, he’d had a brief ‘feeling’… a ‘familiar’ one, but so fleeting the Blue Wizard had dismissed it. - But, his friend was right - together, they were more powerful than Radagast… as (in days long ago), had Saruman, at Sauron’s bidding, outdone Gandalf. - At least, for a while…
Shoving away that Wizard’s eventual success from his mind, Alatar watched Rhuddalan’s face intently as he and Pallando shared their plans, and as the Zhâgarene gave his thoughts…
As he’d predicted, the Hillmen began to arrive the next day, and (as Farvo), Alatar met the with the leaders of these allies. One or two protested being under the auspices of Rhuddalan, but a had stare from the Blue Wizard quickly silenced them. Turning to the Zhâgarene, he gave a curt nod. “They are your to command,” he repeated Pallando’s order, and then - with his dark friend - began to waken the sleeping Uruks.
One by one, the creatures roiled forth from the dark earth, and one-by-one they submitted to the ‘power’ exuded by the two Wizards. When the whole complement of Uruk Hai were awake, “As soon as the orcs are gathered, we will be ready, my friend,” Alatar grinned evilly at Pallando. “And soon, Middle Earth will be ours…”
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
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