Aladrien
Mate
"I love this guy. He's crazy!"
Posts: 47
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Post by Aladrien on Nov 15, 2003 18:25:56 GMT -5
With Niphredil, Tancred and hopefull everybody else's permission, I will be starting the new Lord of the Rings RPG. The following is my starting post. If you object to it, please let me know and I can remove it strait away. It has little significance to the plot of the story. I just wanted to provide every one with a base to start out on and to think about. Here we go:
Imthoron blinked once, twice, three times. Her long, thin face was lightly shaded from the sun that shone brighter than usual that morning. The ground around Imp was dappled yellow with a mixture of leaves and apples. Stretching her branches high, Imthoron stretched as high as possible. Imp sighed and settled down into her roots and started to sleep once more.
Sleep was a normal part of Imthoron’s life. She welcomed it and almost worshiped it. She always felt rested when she did so, though many creatures disagreed. Her laid back personality allowed her to shrug these rude comments off.
The ground rattled ever so slightly. Imp awoke slowly. She wasn’t surprised. Often the land rumbled in these parts for reasons Imp knew not of.
Only opening one eye, she saw a creature on horseback gallop over her roots. “Interesting,” she said to herself once the rider had long passed. “I wonder where that being is off to.”
Imthoron pondered the subject for only a little while before a second rider galloped past. “What ever is going on?” Imp stretched her trunk and uprooted herself. The two riders were headed in the direction of Rivendell, which was southeastern from Trollshaws (Imthoron’s current location).
After wandering for almost her entire life, Imthoron finally had something to do. Excited and ready for some action, Imp began to rumble her way toward Rivendell and toward the two frantic riders.
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Post by Athena on Nov 20, 2003 22:25:44 GMT -5
Lady Isotta, princess of Gondor, third in line for the throne sat doing her fine embroidery in the corner of the room. She was the very picture of a demure lady, from her long vivid red hair piled high on her head, a few tendrils had escaped the confines of her hair do and they hung down in curls. Her bright blue eyes were cast modestly down, staring at the embroidery in her lap. She wore assorted rings on her fingers, and from her ears hung two large sapphire stones. Around her neck hung a gold pendant, inlaid upon the gold leaf was picture of the white tree, the symbol of Gondor. She wore an elegant dress, a dark blue that offset the color of her eyes. Surrounding the collar and the large bell sleeves was an intricate design of gold thread, her dress was made of costly material and it indicated the height of fashion. She was twenty five, and yet since birth she had been trained and educated in the womanly arts. Surrounding her sat her chattering ladies in waiting. They too, were doing embroidery, though sadly that did not stop their tongues from moving thought Isotta wryly. With a small sigh she looked up from her needle work for a moment and peered around the room. As if on cue, Telumehtar burst into the room. He was Isotta’s older brother, next in line to inherit the throne from Tarendor. He was thirty or so and he was a lanky man who seemed to fill the room with the personality of him. He had an infectious personality that made everyone want to laugh with him. The beard upon his chin was carefully groomed and cropped short in the new style from the north. He too had Isotta’s red hair, though his was darker, and his eyes were a deep chocolate color. Within a single bound her cleared the room and reached Isotta’s side. With an elegant bow, he leaned down towards his sister, his eye’s dancing gaily in his face, though his words were solemn.
“Sister dear, would you please favor me the honor of your company?”
Isotta swiftly rose from her chair, glad to be rid of an excuse to do the fine needlework. She too gracefully sank into a deep curtsie, as benefit one of her station.
“I accept your offer, I can think of no better purpose then to go with you my lord.”
“Excellent,” replied Telumehtar, without further ado, he grabbed her arm and they both walked swiftly out of the room.
“Where are we going?” Isotta asked Telumehtar
“To the balcony” replied Telumehtar
When they had been young, both brother and sister had spent hours upon the balcony from that hung from the castle and over looked all of Gondor. Often they would flee their in an effort to get away from their many tutors, and to get a chance to be themselves for once without the obligations of their royal births.
Finally the two reached the balconey and Isotta marveled again at the view. The sun was sinking and it hung blood red in the sky. Mysterious shadows were everywhere, and the Earth’s normal pallet of colors were strangely changed. Far off in the distance could be seen a flock of some sort of birds, they hung in the sky, their dark feathers contrasting sharply with the red sun. Suddenly from close to Telumehtar’s elbow came a rusty caw. He jerked sharply at the jeering sound, but Isotta merely laughed gaily at her brother’s fright.
“Tis merely a bird” said Isotta as she shooed it off the ledge
Telumehtar looked rather shaken, but all he said was, “beasts have been known to carry evil tiding’s abroad”
The crow flapped off and out of sight, leaving behind a rusty caw in the air.
“So, what did you wish to speak to me about brother” asked Isotta “For surely, you did not drag me away from my women -as entertaining as they may be- to simply show me the view.”
“You have seen through me” laughed Telumehtar, but he seemed rather at unease, “but you are correct, I do have a hidden purpose to our visit. And I thought it was rather that we converse here where we can be certain that our conversation would not be over heard.”
Isotta gracefully sat down upon a stool that was seated their, she looked up at her brother, waiting for him to start. For a while he fidgeted and then finally he spoke, “I have had an, interesting conversation with my father of late.”
At his words, Isotta stirred uneasily, but he payed her no heed.
“As you know, our esteemed father is growing old and gray. He is still an able ruler, but one day, his star will pass, and it will fall upon me to rise and take my place as ruler. Our lady mother, died giving birth to you, and we are our father’s only heirs. Isotta, father worries that our blood line will one day die out and that the ruling of Gondor will pass to someone not of the ancient blood. Isotta, father wishes you to marry” that last of Telumehtar’s sentence was said softly, as if to calm Isotta.
Isotta rose from her stool, her face unreadable. She stood with her back to her brother, her face facing the sunset. When at last she spoke, her voice was low and emotionless. “And do you, my brother, believe that it is my duty to marry and to carry children to ensure our royal line?”
“No!” exclaimed Telumehtar vehemently. Even he was surprised at the emotion behind his words. “You are a free women, you have your own will and choice. I was just telling you what father wishes. He loves you, you know, he does. He loves both of us. Often I thought that he loved his subjects more, but is that not the mark of a good king? One day I too am due to rule, and then I must be just and fair, I must listen to my subjects and act as if they are my own children. And in a way, they are. Isotta, Isotta,” and here his voice changed to one more pleading, “Isotta look at me. Say you will do it, say you will marry to make father happy, please.”
Isotta stood still as a rock, her hair was coming undone from it’s hair do and it whipped around her face by the winds that blew from the west. At last she spoke, and when she turned around, there were tears in eyes that glistened but did not drop,
“Oh aye. I am a free women, I have made my own choices. Tis no great thing to have a husband. To have children. It is a female’s duty. I have never been free, never. Father has claimed my body, he has forced it to become an alien object, foreign to me, as it learns the ‘proper way to act’. But now, now he wishes to own my spirit. Nay my soul. He wishes to sell me off, like, like some manner of beast! Telumehtar, my dear brother whom I love dearly. You are my own flesh and blood, and yet, even you cannot understand the depths of my despair. If I am to spend any more time behind these walls, if I am to spend any more hours devoted to nonsence. And if I am to marry someone for my father’s joy, then I will surely die! I feel it closing in around me, the walls are seeking to hold me and capture me. Once I give in, they will have me forever. I will become a dead object, lifeless. Of late I have had dreams, queer dreams. Dreams that portend an end to Middle Earth. A darkness sweeps the land, and evil blight that destroys all in its path. And we here in Gondor, safe and snug laugh and go about our dues. We are doomed to die, in ignorance, happily in ignorance. Telumehtar, I shall leave Gondor this very hour, I cannot bear it to stay here a moment longer. I must escape this place, my destiny is not to become a dutiful wife.”
At last Telumehtar raised his head after Isotta’s speech, his eyes were shadowed by grief, but he seemed to see the wisdom of Isotta’s passing. A slight tremor in his voice showed his emotion, as he turned toward his sister,
“Where, where will you go?” Isotta gestured impatiently out towards the horizon,
“Everywhere and anywhere. I feel with in me a great stirring, a change of heart. Perhaps I will visit the stronghold of the elves; Rivendell. Aye, Rivendell, even the name brings to me peace. I shall journey there on the swiftest horse in our stables”
“Very well” replied Telumehtar, “but sister, be, be careful. And remember, wherever you journey to, I and father, nay don’t shake your head at me, even father, we both love you. Your passing will be sorely missed and I will not deny it. But long I have seen with in you a restlessness. I think I knew within me that you are not happy behind the walls of Gondor. Leave if you must, but never forget me, take this as a token of me and of your people,” and Telumehtar, took off from his cloak a brooch in the shape of an white tree. “Wear it for Gondor.”
Wordlessly Isotta took the brooch and fastened it upon her persona, then she leaned upwards and kissed her brother on each check and then she darted past him into the halls behind. After a short time later, Telumehtar discerned in the darkness of night a dark figure wearing a cloak riding a black horse disappear into the night. Up in the sky the moon shone and several stars twinkled brightly. Telumehtar, prince of Gondor looked upon his sister for the last time, softly he murmured; “Fare thee well sister, I hope you find your way…”
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Aladrien
Mate
"I love this guy. He's crazy!"
Posts: 47
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Post by Aladrien on Nov 21, 2003 15:48:38 GMT -5
Imthoron hobbled over the thicket, causing panic throughout the forest. No matter how many times, "sorry" was mentioned the wildlife was terrified of Imp. This weighted her.
Always an outcast, Imthoron had few friends. One of the reasons for leaving her home country was because she felt unwanted.
Within a matter of minutes, a great manor appeared in front of her little eyes. Blinking a few times, she found it hard to believe that she was so close to such a marvel. "When will I learn," she thought silently and carried on her walk. "The riders must have settled here. Their horses were weak and tired." Imthoron wanted to see what the fuss was about.
She stumbled around, over and under everything in sight. "We ents aren't meant to be moving in small places," she grumbled to herself as she caught herself on an overhang. "Hoom."
Suddenly, from behind Imp, came a soothing voice.
"You ent-folk aren't meant for Rivendell," the voice drew nearer and into view.
Imthoron saw a broad-shouldered man. Under layers of cloth and leather hid a wide chest and a sculpted body. His hand rested upon his hilt, but he knew using it was unnecessary. His face was cleansed and his goatee was neatly kept. His hair hung just above his shoulders, a few inches away from a bandana he wore around his neck. The man noticed Imthoron's gaze.
"This..." he tugged at the earth-coloured bandana. "...is for this," his hand moved to his strait, dirty blonde hair. A few strands of hair had tints of red in them. A laugh rumbled from the hollow of his belly.
Imthoron couldn't help but laugh as well. "Would you mind lending me a hand? I seem to be stuck."
"So it is," the man, who clearly was much brighter than the ent, spoke. "It seems you have stepped into a fool's trap."
"What ever do you mean?" Imp tried to move, but was unable to do so.
"Back up, m'dear!" the man chuckled again.
Imp did as she was told and was free. "I do not know how I can thank you, sir!"
"Please, call me Arattil. 'Sir' is too…how do I say this…severe."
Imthoron did.
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Post by Athena on Nov 21, 2003 17:30:41 GMT -5
Isotta shivered on her horse and wrapped the nondescript black coat tighter around her. She peered ahead in the gloom, but could not discern and shapes in the darkness. Rain fell from the heavens and soaked her too the skin. Her red hair was plastered to her skull. All around her, thunder boomed and lightning crashed. At each sound, the horse she was riding grew more and more skittish. Isotta had been taught how to ride a horse when she was young, however, once she had, had a bad fall off of a horse and had been at death’s door. For a week, she hovered near life and death. It was said during that time that her father became shadowed with grief. At last she had pulled through, however, since then, her father had not allowed her to have any other interactions with riding. Just recently, he had, had a bad spill himself. He had not been overly injured, however, he had suddenly grown a fear for his mortality. This was probably the reason for him suddenly wishing for me to marry thought Isotta dourly, he wanted to ensure future generations after him. Though Isotta understood her father’s reasons, she could not bring herself to forgive him. That forgiveness would come with time and the wisdom of old age.
Isotta suddenly clenched the brooch of Gondor that she wore on her cloak, it was the only ornament that she wore. She had stripped herself of her many jewelry and of her expensive dress and was wearing one of coarser material. Isotta suddenly smiled at the thought of what one would think if they saw her so bedraggled and traveling upon the road in her state. Surely none would recognize the princess of Gondor now. Isotta’s stomach rumbled, she had been on the road for several days, though she had lost count and she believed, had lost her way. One way looks like another, and Isotta was an inexperienced traveler at best. Her food and supplies had all been lost on the first day, right at the beginning of the storm. Ever since then, Isotta had been riding hard, remembering old skills that she had thought that she had forgotten. Close to her side nestled a dagger. She had no knowledge of how to use the weapon, but the thought of it at her side comforted her. Isotta suddenly looked around in sudden fright, her wet hair flinging water in an arc behind her. Shapes were barely seen and shadows were evident in the night. Up above in a tree a rusty caw cried. Isotta gasped in sudden fright, as several feral red eyes shown out of the bushes.
Her horse she rode grew skittish and champed uneasily at the bit, “Hold hard, tis okay” muttered Isotta to the scared animal, but her unease translated itself to the horse. A lightning bolt crashed from the sky and struck a nearby tree. The sudden fright was too much for the already frightened animal and it reared in sudden fright. Isotta could feel herself sliping of the horse, her wet saddle, her tiredness, and her ineptness at riding the horse all resulted in her falling. With dismay, she saw the unwelcome shot of her horses hindquarters galloping off into the night. Very sore now, she hobbled to her feet and snorted at her own impudence.
“Ha, imagine me running away. And now I am lost” she muttered, as she eyed the forbidding woods that she found herself in. She could feel all her iron will and strength that had carried her, leave her, as suddenly she grew afraid. A chill wind blew, and she shuddered and wrapped her cloak tighter around her, though it was scarcely any protection against the elements. Doggedly she started walking once more, in any direction. Sounds of unseen things were heard all around her, and her heart went faster and her breath came quicker. So tired, to just rest for a…bit. I bet I would be having a large meal right now. I would be warm and dry… thought Isotta tiredly as she struggled on.
Suddenly she stopped, her eyes wide at what she had just thought. “No matter what happens, anything is better than, than that so called life!” she said, as if the words themselves would stiffen her resolve. She raised her voice above the mournful cry of the wind, “I will never give in do you hear me, never!”
Fine words to mutter miss she thought to herself, but lets see you stay the course. And I will, just wait and see she told the disparaging voice sternly.
The solitary figure struggled on, through the fierce elements. Falling down several times but always getting back up. Unknowest to her, a shadow was trailing her. A shadow that had feathers and had a sharp hooked beak. Once more a long caw echoed through the woods, but it was drowned out by the sound of the storm.
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Post by Niphredil on Nov 22, 2003 15:57:24 GMT -5
Violet Took was a sweet young Hobbit with dark brown hair (a rare sight amongst the Hobbits of the Trollshaws), bright blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. At 29, she was just at the end of her tween years. She lived in a quaint village with her parents, Estella and Bingo, and together they ran the village's only inn, which was named The Forsaken Inn (but the locals simply called it "The Inn"; the horrid brand of "Forsaken" was applied to it only by dumb foreigners, most often men); and life was very pleasant there, albeit a tad boring.
Violet had many dreams, dreams of leaving her life behind her and going off to explore some distant lands, like Rivendell to the southeast, or to travel along the Great East Road to Bree in the west, and beyond. But her parents, who loved her dearly and did not wish for harm to come to their only child, discouraged that she should have such dreams, let alone turn them into realities. And so, Violet kept her dreams to herself, although she would occassionally divulge them to Andy Tunnely, her best friend.
Andy was a young Hobbit who worked for his uncle at the local tavern, the Golden Dragon. He had moved to the Trollshaws from Staddle, a village of Bree, at a very young age with his mother, Bell, and his older brothers, Will and Hugo, because of his father's sudden death. Andy and his family lived at the Inn for awhile, until such time as they found their very own Hobbit hole just outside of the village. In the time when they lived in the Inn, Andy and Violet became fast friends, even though they were opposites in many ways.
Violet would often retreat to her room, to the corner where stood a little table she could put her tea on, and a comfortable chair she could sit on while she read on of her books. Like the book she was reading right now, about a handsome Elven prince who--
"Violet!" a voice called. Violet looked up from her book, startled, and saw her mother, Estella, standing before her. Estella was a plump, healthy Hobbit, with dark hair like Violet's (except her's was graying at the sides) and deep brown eyes.
"Yes mama?" she said.
"Violet, will you please put fresh bed linens in one of the Big Folk rooms? A traveler has just come in." Violet's eyes widened. Big Folk! This was very exciting news; it wasn't often that Big Folk came here. "And after you've done that," her mother continued, "if you could run down to the tavern and get the things on this list I'd appreciate it." She handed Violet a piece of paper with a few items scribbled on it.
"All right, mama." She placed a piece of ribbon in her book to mark her place, and closing it placed it on her small table. She stood, and walked out of her little room to a closet where the linens were kept. Taking out the linens, she walked a short distance down the hall to one of the Big Folk rooms. She changed the linens on the bed, and took out a dust rag and went over the furniture in the room quickly. "There, that should do," she said with satisfaction. And with that, she went back to her room and grabbed her shawl, which she draped over her shoulders, and went out the door on her way to the General Store down the road.
On the way out, she noticed a very tall man over by the stables, obviously putting his horse up for the night. She wanted to go over and talk to him, ask him who he was, and what his purpose for traveling was, but she figured he probably wouldn't want to listen to some silly little Hobbit girl prattle on about anything and everything, and instead continued on her way. As she walked, she ran into Andy.
"Afternoon, Andy," she said.
"Hullo, Vi. I heard that there's a man staying at the Inn."
"Yes, there is! Isn't it exciting?" she said, a big smile on her face.
"I suppose... just be careful. He's a stranger, who knows why he's here."
"Oh, you worry too much," she said, rolling her eyes. "So what are you doing out and about?"
"On my way to the Store to pick some things up for my Uncle."
"Same here, for my mother," Violet said. "I'll walk with you."
She and Andy went to the Store, got their respective items, and parted ways, Andy returning to the Golden Dragon, and Violet to the Inn.
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Post by Mrs Dan Hawkins on Nov 22, 2003 18:42:19 GMT -5
Calen paced around the stable restlesly waiting for Caran, we will be the last to arrive if he doesn't hurry she though.Just as Calen was about to leave without him Caran walked into the stable , Calens emerald eyes were ablaze with annoyance .
"Caran do you wish the whole party to be late ?!"
Caran chuckled "no my sweet i don't" he replied giving her a kiss before mounting his horse
" well it seems that way ,a fine impression that would be the kings own niece and her husband holding everything up!" Calen ranted
"shall we go then my love?"
Calen mounted her horse and sped off in way of an answer Caran laughed and followed
"let us go to Rivendell then!" he cried
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sorry for the lenght i know its short but i was at a loss of how to begin
Calen
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Aladrien
Mate
"I love this guy. He's crazy!"
Posts: 47
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Post by Aladrien on Nov 22, 2003 22:37:42 GMT -5
Once Imthoron was untangled and the two mates were aquianted, they discussed many things on one of the many sets of stairs on Rivendell's front yard. Arratil sat, with one leg bent to a seventy five degree angle and the other strait, sprawled over many stairs. His both hands rested upon the bent knee, leaving his eyes to wander. "To be completely honest with you, I've seldom seen ent-folk in Rivendell. What is your basis?"
"I was a bored ent in search of adventure. It was when I noticed two riders heading this way. They looked as if they were in a hurry," Imthoron "hoom"ed and shifted her branches from side to side. "The sunlight is ever so nice here!"
"I agree. Warm," Arratil lifted his chin toward the sky and laid back upon the carefully carved stairway. "I believe you when you say you saw riders, but I do not know who they are. I just got here. No personal, nor business matter. I was just wondering."
"Is there someone we could speak to in this household?" Imp gazed around, but found no one. "I thought this place was to be crawling with life."
"I would not know. However, I wish I did," Arratil sighed and looked to Imp.
Imthoron giggled at his gaze. She blushed slightly at his handsom looks, but her bark hid it well. "Tell me a little bit about yourself, Arratil."
"Alright then. I am a wanderer, staying at various Inns across the country. I simply like to travel. Nothing wrong with that."
"Nothing at all."
"I came upon this place by accident. I am in love with it already, Imthoron!" Arratil laughed.
"You may call me Imp. Many do," Imthoron smiled.
"Pleased to, Imp!" Arratil beamed with joy. He finally found a companion. "And you may call me whatever your heart desires. I have no nick name, for I have no friends to name me."
"Very well!" Imthoron, who was bad enough at names, made it simple. "I'll just call you Arratil. Simply stated."
"Agreed!"
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Post by ~Kawaii~ on Nov 23, 2003 12:46:32 GMT -5
The sun shone brightly upon Mynawen's back as she gently pulled her horse back to walking pace. The journey from Lothlorien to Rivendell had been long, but had passed smoothly with only a few storms to slow her down. Myna had no reason to take this journey to Rivendell, but ever since her sister had left Lorien, she felt she had no real reason to stay either.
Mynawen breathed a sigh of relief as she passed into the large courtyard, stopped her horse and slid off his back. Her clothes had become tattered and ripped, her horse looked tired and untamed and she herself felt as if she had never met water in her life.
"Myna!" An exicted voice rang out from across the courtyard. "We've been expecting you."
The voice belonged to an male Elf, tall and strong with broad shoulders and a stern brow, yet a smile that could be found on a child.
"Glorfindel!" Mynawen smiled. "It is good to be back my friend."
"And it is good to have you back! We can all rest now you are here, these times are strange and we were all worried for your safety. It is great to see you again Mynawen." Glorfindel pulled his friend into a hug. "Now come, tonight we will celebrate your return, for you have been gone too long, but first you shall rest, for you look like you have not done so in a while."
Myna laughed, "That is because I have not. But please, let me see to Noruas first, he has been bearing me for so long and I am more of a burden now then ever before!"
"That shall be done, but not by you. You will rest." Glorfindel said sternly.
"I do not seem to have a choice in the matter." She laughed, "Rivendell has not changed I see. In fact I think it is more peaceful then ever."
"That might not be so. I fear the lord Elrond has some dark thing troubling his thoughts. But that is not for us to worry about, not now, come."
Glorfindel lead Myna off through Rivendell, where she was introduced to everyone they passed as a 'very dear friend', even though everyone they passed had met her before. Eventually they arrived at Myna's room, where Glorfindel and the others let her be to recover from her journey.
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Post by tancred on Nov 23, 2003 12:46:57 GMT -5
The sun was beginning to sink in the west. And from out of the west came a rider. At a full gallop, he suddenly tugged on the reins of his horse as he came to the brow of the hill that overlooked the Forsaken Inn (as it was known to the Dunedain of Arthedain). Stopping so quickly, the rider was almost thrown over his horse's head. He did not wait long; having spotted the Inn and the little village that surrounded it, he spurred his horse on. His errand was most urgent.
In the long war between the former Kingdoms of Arnor and Angmar far to the cold north, the easternmost realm of Rhudaur had been largely overrun. The Witch-King's armies had either anhilliated the Dunedain population or forced them to flee to Arthedain or Cardolan. Dunlendings and Hillmen now ruled most of Rhudaur. The Trollshaws, in which the Forsaken Inn was, were becoming wilder by the year. The Dunedain of Arthedain were still able to keep a military pressence here, though. With watchtowers and small castles dotting the hills just outside of the forest, they could keep the Inn and its village safe and keep the evil men and Orcs of Angmar at bay.
All of that was about to change.
The rider reached the center of the village, the Inn itself. As if the harbinger of things to come, a great wind and rain came with him. Clouds suddenly blotted out the westering sun, thunder rolled, and lightning raged. Without casting aside his hood or cloak, the man spoke with authority and urgency to the innkeeper, "My good Halfling, who is in charge of this village here?"
"Noone really," replied the plump little Hobbit. "We all do as we please, and come together mutually if we have to. What be your business here, sir?" The innkeeper was becoming impatient; the storm had come up rather suddenly, and he had no coat or hood to shield him from the rain.
"Call all the heads of the village households together," ordered the man. "Have them meet in the common room of your inn. Now."
"Who might you be, and on who's authority do you order this," asked the innkeeper gruffly.
"By order of the King," answered the man. As he did so, he parted his water-proof cloak. And there beneath flashed the seven silver stars of the Northen Kingdom, all on a black surcoat. The little Hobbit gaped, bowed, and ran off shouting to all who would hear him.
An hour later, all the Hobbits of the village gathered at the Inn. As it was dinner time anyway, they all ordered food and drink. So, despite the inconvenience the innkeeper had gone through to get everyone there, he also made quite the profit.
As a hush came over the room, the man finally spoke. "I shall make this as short and to the point as possible. My name is Tancred, and I am a Knight of Arthedain. I am here on order of the King in Fornost Erain. As you all probably already know, the lands to your north and east are becoming more wild and overrun with the Enemy. We Dunedain have long held the line of the hills to your west, and protected you from harm. I am sorry to say, that this can no longer be the case. Our forts and castles have been overrun or destroyed. We no longer have a military pressence in Rhudaur."
Cries of despair and fear errupted throughout the inn. In particular, Tancred noticed a little Hobbit lass sink to the floor and hide behind the bar counter. She was the same young maiden who had prepared his room. One Hobbit looked to the other, and wondered aloud what would they do and what would happen.
Tancred called for calm. "I am truly sorry at this bad news. However, there is nothing the King can do at the moment. His army is already stretched thin as it is across our frontiers and borders. This is the King's will--that you should all gather up what belongings you deem most neccessary, and to withdraw along the East-West Road and into Arthedain itself. You will be welcome there, and there is land to spare. Most importantly, you will be safe. We can no longer defend you here. Once the King receives word of your departure, he will send an escort to guard you on your journey. That is my report, on order of the King. I shall leave you all now in peace to discuss your course of action."
Tancred left the common room, and made for the stables. He wanted to check in on his horse before he finally settled in for the night. As he was feeding his steed some apples, he noticed the Hobbit girl enter the stables. She held her hands behind her back, and approached slowly with her head bowed.
"Sir," she said shyly. "Are things really as bad as you say? This is my home, and as boring as it is, I'm not sure I would want to leave it. Must my family and I leave? My parents seem afraid. Should they be?"
Tancred looked with pity upon the girl. "They should be," he said. "And so should you. The Orcs and men of Angmar are vile foes. And merciless. This village isn't safe anymore. The sooner you and your family leave, the safer you will be."
The girl bowed her head even further, and almost seemed to weep. "There, there," said Tancred in a comforting tone. "I will not be here for long, but during the time I am, I will protect you. You and everyone else here that I can. And once along the road, the King's army will be there for you. Come, let us go back to the Inn. I think I need some wine. And you being the servant at the Inn, you should probably be the one to serve it." He winked at her, and she smiled finally. "Your name is?"
"Violet," answered the little Hobbit.
"Violet," mused Tancred. "A very pretty name. My name is Tancred. Pleased to meet you." *****************************
Later that night, Tancred was disturbed in his sleep. The Inn was comfortable enough. There just seemed to be scuffling sounds from outside. He threw his cloak on, and drew his sword.
Outside, the sounds seemed to be coming from the stable. Tancred creeped silently towards it. A figure stumbled about inside. A drunk or weary traveller sheltering from the storm? A flash of lightning revealed the figure to be a woman. The knight sheathed his sword, and approached her. As soon as he did so, the woman swooned. Tancred caught her before she fell, scooped her up, and took her to the inn.
He was met there by Violet. She too had awoken from sleep at the nightly noises. "What is it," she asked with concern.
"I don't know," replied the knight. "This woman was in the stables. Who she is, I know not."
"She's soaked to the bone and dreadfully cold," noticed Violet. "Let me take her to a new room to get her warmed up by the fire."
Violet led Tancred to a vacant room. He laid the unconscious woman on to the bed there, and started the fire. Once he was done, Violet pushed him to the door. "Scoot, scoot now," she said. "I have to get this poor woman some dry clothes. I think we have some extra Big Folk clothing somewhere." Tancred did as he was told, and sat outside of the room. He couldn't get the very unique looking broach that the woman wore out of his mind--the shape of a white tree. ******************************
Outside in the deep, dark night, shadows loomed above the little village. More riders had come. Only these were Orcs upon Wargs....
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Aladrien
Mate
"I love this guy. He's crazy!"
Posts: 47
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Post by Aladrien on Nov 23, 2003 13:22:03 GMT -5
"Do you fancy we set abroad and find the living in this place?" Arratil laughed.
"Yes, I do infact. It seems lifeless, doesn't it?" Imthoron unsettled her roots and stood tall. "Would you like a ride?"
"Oh. Thank you, but no thank you!" Arratil stood, stretched then began to walk. "I prefer walking. I don't want to become fat and lazy."
"I agree," Imthoron didn't know how it was possible. "There!" Imp pointed to a large set of doors.
"I shall knock. You won't fit beneath the overhang."
Imthoron got up as close as she could to the door and rested while Arratil knocked.
"Is anybody home?" Arratil hollared against the door. "Hello?"
Just then the door opened.
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Post by Athena on Nov 23, 2003 13:23:40 GMT -5
Isotta awoke gradually to a worried face peering at her. Blearily Isotta blinked her eyes in attempts to adjust her vision but to no avail, strangely the face seemed small. Sighing slightly Isotta stretched herself and raised her hands to her face in puzzlement, she looked the same size. Only then did she realize that she was garbed in a different outfit then what she had been wearing originally.
"Oh miss, are you alright" asked the small girl standing at the foot of Isotta's bed
"I..I think so" anwsered Isotta, "But, you, you are small and yet..."
The girl laughed merrily, "I am a hobbit, or halfling as you might know better"
"Aye" said Isotta thoughtfully, "I have heard of your type of folk"
The girl stepped closer to Isotta, her eyes round with admiration, "We found you out in the storm, twas dreadful, and you were out in it, all alone!"
Isotta laughed, "Aye, and I wouldn't do it again" suddenly Isotta was curious, "What do you mean we, who else found me? I would like to thank my rescuer"
Suddenly, the door to the room opened an a tall form entered. A man walked in and looked down upon the hobbit, "Is everything all right Violet? I heard voiced talking and...oh" he said, at noticing that Isotta was awake, "I am sorry to have disturbed you, I will leave now if you...."
"Nay" said Isotta, putting up a hand to stop him from leaving, "I have heard reports that you are my other rescuer?"
The man made an elegant leg toward Isotta, "Aye, me and Violet" and here he nodded toward the hobbit lass, "Found you not to long ago out in the storm. You were nearly out of your mind I dare wonder. If I may ask, what brought you out onto such a fierce night on the first place?"
Isotta looked down upon the bedsheets, her hands clenched tight, reaching a rapid descion she spoke, "I, I was seeking for Rivendell" It was a close enough truth she told herself, "I was searching for that stronghold of the elves, and, and I am afraid that I got lost. I am not as accomplished a rider that I mean to be."
"Why were you seeking Rivendell" asked Violet
"I uh, my family is gone from raiders attack. They were destroyed" and here a single tear tracked down Isotta's cheek. Though her father and brother weren't dead, they were lost to her forever, there was no way she could ever go back.
"I am sorry to hear that milady" said the knight, and indeed he seemed truly distressed at her news
"You must spend some time in the Inn, to recover your strength before you set off once again for Rivendell" said Violet, as if that was decided
"I thank you for your hospitality" said Isotta, "But truly, my money and most of my belongs got washed away in the storm, and..."
Violet lauged, "my parents would be the last to turn away someone who was suffering from hard ship. It is our duty, and we will gladly help you."
"Thank you" said Isotta, humbled by their generosity, "I am afraid that I have not properly introduced myself, my name is Isotta"
"Pleased to make your aqaintance Lady Isotta" replied the knight, "my name is Tancred" and Tancred once again swept her an elegant bow
"Please" said Isotta, "Just call me...Isotta" I have left that part of me behind me, I am a princess no longer. Now I am just, Isotta she thought to herself.
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Summer Sparrow
Captain Phoenix
"Pervy Pirate Fancier" Donut Count Today : 0 Glasses of Coke Today : 0
Posts: 805
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Post by Summer Sparrow on Nov 23, 2003 13:44:47 GMT -5
All is not well that morning in the realm of Rivendell, many of it’s distinguished riders rode out from it’s stables with serious expressions; and amongst it’s lush greenery a lone elf noticed this. A sense of foreboding crept into her, aged and wise, she has lived many a years here throughout hardships, matters of urgency, enemy threats and even war, and they all started out disturbingly similar to this very morning.
This lone elf is quite a sight to be hold, tall and fair, with long black hair, black as midnight, many has said she is by far the fairest elf in Rivendell, after Arwen Undomiel of course. Yet she, Aranel Vilanya, lived here quietly amongst the other Maids in the House of Rivendell, and she spends most of her time here, in the stables of Rivendell, where she is now returning to her chores, checking the reins on the magnificent beasts and feeding them fresh fruits she collected from the nearby forests, they too seemed to be on edge. “What is it my precious?” she whispered softly and stroked it’s back gently, “All shall be well…”
“And you are sure of this?” said a voice behind her.
“Master Elrond” She acknowledged the living legend calmly. Through out these years they had become great acquaintances and shared many a stories, tales and wisdom with one another, as it is a common thing amongst the folks of Rivendell. Master Elrond wished for everyone to be cultured and learn of all the ways and history of the world and he exuded great pride in his collections of books in his sprawling library.
“All shall be well…” he repeated those words again thoughtfully, “I shall need those words of comfort myself…” he continued.
“Something is amiss? Have you not hear news of it?” asked Aranel worriedly. He nodded slowly.
“Unfortunately it is not a pleasant news to bear.” He paused slightly, “… the enemy is gathering strength. It’s foul dwelling deeper and deeper in Dol Guldur. I have sent for allies.” he stated,
“And the Rangers?”
“Yes, Elladan and Elrohir shall seek them.”
Dol Guldur… allies “All is not well….” Aranel whispered to herself.
"Aranel, why must you tire yourself toiling away here in the stables? I have wished for you repeatedly to join me in the Council." Master Elrond continued. Aranel turned to him, "I am hardly as wise as you Elrond, and not near as wise as Galadriel, I shall have no part in it, I am happiest here, and you know where to find me."
Elrond nodded and smiled, "Very well, but I shall need you in the House, to keep an eye on Arwen, and... other matters of the House."
Aranel raised an eyebrow. "Other matters?"
"Yes, from now on, I want you to care for the library, I know how fond you are of it, and I shall appoint a young apprentice to care of the stables, of course you are welcomed to the horses whenever you please."
Aranel was just about to protest when Elrond raised his right hand, "I shall see you in the Council, after everyone has arrived."
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The sky was dark and gloomy as rain poured and splashed down unmercifully on the helpless figure dragging his feet along the narrow forest trail.He was still many a miles away from his destination, Rivendell; and the forests presented little shelter. He drew his cloak ever closer to his already soaked body. The rain created slimey puddles everywhere and turned the dirt trail into an interesting brown colored stream. “I shouldn’t have pushed my luck!” grumbled the man to himself. Suddenly he heard noises above, Crebains? Are they trailing me? What is this? Amrod’s Vanimedle’s Bad Fortune Day? Amrod looked upwards, the rain had quietened down somewhat and he squinted against the dark sky, and he could see a flock of black winged birds circling overhead. Shelter! Fast! Amrod scurried about, under the impression that the spies had somehow found out of his quest. Several days ago, some riders had summoned him to Rivendell, and although he is now no longer one of the Rangers from the North, his bond with the Elves remained strong, and if not that, the chance to see Aranel again was a chance he did not want to forsake.
As he quickened his pace through the wilderness, a small village came into view, Ah! The Village of Trollshaw, what a relief!.
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Post by Niphredil on Nov 23, 2003 16:05:04 GMT -5
Violet brought Isotta some bread and cheese and other thing to eat, and soon after Isotta had eaten her fill, she dozed off to sleep. Knowing that the newly arrived guest needed her rest, Violet told Tancred he should retire to his room, assuring him that there would be time for chatting in the morning.
With her guests resting comfortably, Violet went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea because she knew there was no way she would be able to sleep now, not with all the things she had to think about and the sounds of a storm outside.
She made her way back though the dark Inn, tea in one hand, lamp in the other. She placed both items on her little table and settled into her chair, a quilt draped over her legs. She picked up her book with the intention of reading for awhile, but found that she could not get into the story; so she decided instead to start packing, and knowing that she would not be able to take many of her possessions, she would have to sort through all her books... not an easy task. She sighed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, she thought. I'm supposed to go have an adventure, and be able to come back home when it's over... but now I don't know if home will still be here.
Violet was suddenly jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of a horn blowing. She went over to her window and looked out, and what she saw was a glowing light come from down the street, in the direction of the Dragon. "Oh, no!" she said. She grabbed her shawl, and ran out of her room and, quite literally, into Tancred. She fell backwards to the floor with an "Oof!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Violet! Are you all right?" he asked, helping the little Hobbit to her feet.
"It's all right, I'm fine," she said.
"Good, now what was that horn I just heard?" he asked. Violet detected the urgency in his voice.
"It was old Mr. Tunnely, he blows that horn whenever there is an emergency, and there's a fire down the street!" she said.
"All, right," he said, seeming to just now notice the blaze. "I'm going to check it out. You wait here," he said as he bounded toward the door.
"I'm coming with--"
"No! Stay here, Violet," he ordered, and was out the door.
Violet walked over to the window and looked out. From there, she could clearly see the Dragon burning, smoke billowing up into the night sky. She thought she could faintly hear screaming.
"Violet? What's happening?" Violet turned away from the window and saw her parents standing there, half asleep.
"There's a fire," she said. "It's the Dragon." She turned back to look out the window, but instead of seeing the burning building, she found herself staring into the face of a hideous orc. The village was under attack. Violet stumbled back, stunned, her mouth gaping. The orc balled up it's fist and punched through the glass of the window; he then threw a lit torch into the room, lighting it on fire. Then it snarled and spat, and ran off.
"Oh!" Violet's mother said in disgust. "My drapes!"
"Violet," said Bingo, her father, "Wake the guests, get them out the back way. Hurry!" Violet nodded her head, and ran off down the hall while her father and mother stayed and tried to extinguish the blaze.
"Get up, everyone!" Violet shouted. "Get up! Hurry! We must get out of here!" Most of the guests were already awake, having heard the noise of the attack. Violet went into Isotta's room. "Get up, Isotta." Isotta rubbed her eyes and yawned. Violet supported the woman under one of her arms. "You there!" Violet called to a Hobbit passing by the room, "Please, will you help me?" The Hobbit nodded his head, and got under Isotta's other arm, and together they made their way to the back door. Violet opened the door just a crack and peeked out. No orcs in sight. "There's a ditch over yonder that we can hide in," she said to the frightened guests. Just then her parents came up, both coughing.
"We cannot stop the fire," said Bingo. "Everyone, follow me!" his voice boomed as he led the way.
"Mama, help her," Violet said, handing Isotta over to her mother.
"Who is this?" Estella asked.
"I'll explain later, just go!" Violet said. She stayed behind until the last of the guests was out the door; smoke was starting to pour in from the other room. She heard the cries of the frightened animals in the stables. Silently, she crept out of the room at the Inn, and along it's walls until she got to the stables. Once she got there, she uncaged the animals knowing that they would have a better chance if they were free to run rather being locked in. Just as she freed the last of the animals, Tancred's large and, to Violet, quite scary steed, Violet felt something come down hard on the back of her head. She fell to the floor, and groaned, and then darkness overtook her.
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Post by Mrs Dan Hawkins on Nov 23, 2003 19:11:22 GMT -5
Calen and Caran along with four other Elves made up the party that was proceding towards Rivendell where Calen would join a council called by Lord Elrond for her uncle could not attend.Whispers that evils were lurking in Middle earth once more had begun , whispers that this unnamed evil was coucering the lands of Middle earth, Calen hoped that they were just whispers and not the truth.true many more Yurch sightings occured recently but that could not have anything to do with this evil ...she hoped.Legolas will kick himself for journing so far away when he learns of this she thought with a smile, she let her thoughts drift towards her family and away from the thoughts of evil .
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Summer Sparrow
Captain Phoenix
"Pervy Pirate Fancier" Donut Count Today : 0 Glasses of Coke Today : 0
Posts: 805
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Post by Summer Sparrow on Nov 23, 2003 21:39:32 GMT -5
Just as Amrod was nearing the village, a horn was blown, and Amrod recognized it to be coming from the direction of the Dragon. A tavern which he often frequented during his wanderings.
He quickened his pace, unable to run as his cloak was weighing him down and the mud making his steps even slower, he cursed under his breath,Must be orcs! The crebains might have someting to do with this! And then it happened, Amrod could hear voices screaming and the sounds of shattering glass, he looked up and saw smoke bollowing high overhead.
As the Tavern came into view Amrod could see the damage was done, the Tavern was ablaze and hobbits and people were running everywhere, amidst all of this orcs upon wargs were wreaking havoc trampling over everything and crashing into houses and burning them one by one. Instinctively Amrod climbed high upon a nearby tree to try to get an advantage over the mayhem. Fortunately there were not too many of them around 10 at the most; and he brought forth his trusty bow, which he had made himself, it could load up to four arrows at once and could kill a warg with one shot.
He aimed and pulled the string taut, focusing on a warg who was heading toward a family of hobbits trying to get away; and he let forth the arrow, In the name of Eru... he whispered an the arrow pierced the warg right between the eyes, and it fell to it's side, dead.
The orcs screamed and grunted to one another trying to find the perpetrator, but Amrod's arrows were whizzing, more and more wargs were shot, and more orcs were left wargless. Among the fire, smoke, and utter chaos, Amrod could see someone was fighting the fallen Orcs on foot, from the looks of it he could need some help.
Amrod jumped down swiftly and ran head on into battle.
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