ROHAN RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

***Gilthalion*** · 07-29-2001, 05:51 PM

<font face="Verdana"><table><TR><TD><FONT SIZE="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Hobbitus Emeritus
Posts: 523</TD><TD><img src=http://home.att.net/~robertwgardner/lotrmap.gif WIDTH=60 HEIGHT=60></TD></TR></TABLE>
A cry went up from the sentry, riding the perimeter of the camp. It was only a horse. But it was Elfola, the horse of Elfshild, an unusually courageous and intelligent mount, well loved by his master. But now the horse was riderless and fatally injured, barely on his hooves. His heaving sides were thick with lather. His bleeding flanks were torn, almost shredded.

Crowds of staring riders looked on in stunned silence as the brave steed stumbled into the center of the camp. Tears came freely and without shame to the eyes of more than one rider as the dying horse came at last to a stop before Theodred himself. There, at the feet of the son of Theoden, the noble beast collapsed and breathed his last ragged breath.

Theodred's eyes were bright with the dew of compassion and no heart in the camp was unstirred by the final effort of the horse, spending his last strength to reach the master of his master. Theodred bid that a small mound be raised over Elfola beyond the edge of camp, near where the horses were pastured.

It was remarked by many in the camp that it looked as if the horse had been attacked by wolves. But his body had also been marked by weapons, and this set a puzzle for the Riders. Neither Elfshild nor Deomund, who was with him, ever returned and the puzzle was never solved to anyone's satisfaction. But the Riders now felt sure that wolves and orcs had come farther south of the Misty Mountains than they ever had before and that neither Elfshild nor Deomund would be heard from again.

The young son of Theoden King had come to inspect the camp that fateful day. He had become concerned, as had much of the Mark, that all was not well to the west. Now he was certain that something was not right. Theodred was a very young man, too young and untested for the burden his shoulders carried. But the old knights of the Mark supported him, the more so since his great father now rarely left Meduseld. The young man took his duties seriously, and none doubted his courage or his skill. He stood dry-eyed as a singer sang a song to honor the horse and his rider and all those who never return. If any Riders still doubted his fitness to lead, none in that camp did after his words to them, said over the mound of Elfola that night.

Theodred poured a few drops of wine from a golden cup on the burial mound, and all of the Riders did the same from their cups where they stood, gathered in a great circle, rank upon rank, around the son of their king. Then they turned to hear his words:

"Hear me, Eorlingas!

"Let all who see this mound know that this day we saw with our own eyes that there are enemies of the Mark who grow bolder than the day before. And we saw that our great friendship with the foals of the Mearas is rewarded with devotion beyond measure.

"Let all who see this mound know that the Riders of Rohan will ever strive to earn that devotion with the courage and loyalty it deserves. Gone now are the days of peace and games. See we now the wisdom of Theoden King, who prepared the Riders, bringing back the old ways, making us ready to ride against such a day as this.

"I have not seen as many winters as some of you. Yet I can ride and wield spear and bow and sword. Soon, the weapons of the Mark will know targets other than the practice of the field. The weapons of Elfshild and Deomund already have, let no one doubt, for they were brave men and true. We shall ride together in the years to come, for my heart tells me that the days of Rohan's peril is upon us. My heart tells me that many of us shall meet our doom.

"The House of Eorl shall not shirk such risk! Whatever befalls us, I will share your fate. My father still hears my words, and he has bid me inspect the defenses of the Mark and order things as I would. Let it not be said that the Riders of Theoden ever followed orders far from the site of battle. And if things are as they seem to me, then I will order many of you to your deaths, as died Elffola here. But your risk shall be mine as well, and there are worse fates than to die in service to save the land your longfathers bought with their blood.

"The Dunlendings are grown hostile! Orcs and wolves prowl far from their haunts! Emissaries with fair-seeming words make demands on our King. There are dark rumours on all our borders! And our horses are coveted by the Dark Lord of Mordor.

"But let those who think to prey on Rohan know that they will not find the Riders of the Mark craven! As long as I live and you will serve your king, our courage will keep Rohan free!"

The riders all cheered as Theodred raised high his cup over the burial mound of the noble steed and then they all drained their cups as one.

<center> ~~~</center>

Now weeks later, Theodred was in another part of Rohan and the Riders of the camp continued their vigil until he returned with greater numbers.

A handful of riders, from under cover of a rocky outcrop near the fords of the River Isen, have seen Grima Wormtongue on the road from Isengard. They challenged his going, but could not gainsay his passage, bearing as he did words from their king to the wizard who was lord there. But they decided to watch for when he returned.

As they watched from concealment, Grima met briefly with some men on the other side of the Isen. He then crossed into Rohan and continued on his way. No one observed the watching riders. But they were too far away to hear what Grima said to the men.

"Men from where, I'd like to know," said one of them. "Reminded me of orcs somehow."

"You've never seen an orc!" said another.

"I've heard enough about them from the old timers," replied the first. "And they just reminded me of what I've heard told."

"We'll see enough of them soon enough, if young Theodred is right," said a third Rider. "So what should we do now?"

The riders had often enough seen Wormtongue traveling between Isengard and Meduseld, sent by Theoden King to Saruman the White. It was whispered that Wormtongue secretly worked for the wizard, and that the dwimmer crafty old man in Isengard was no true friend of the Rohirrim. So who was Grima talking to, and what were they talking about?

Their captain had ordered them to return directly to the camp after their watch and not to take any unnecessary risks. Their relief would soon arrive. The riders debated their options. No good detaining Wormtongue. He'd never talk, and Theoden believed too much of what that man said. Sending back to camp for instructions would lose too much time. But they couldn't desert their post.

Finally, they decided to wait for their relief, tell them that they were going to track the strange men, and hope that the captain wasn't angry when and if they ever returned...

</p>Edited by: <A HREF=http://www.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_profile&u=00000006>Gilthali on</A> at: 7/31/01 12:39:13 pm

07-29-2001, 05:51 PM	#1
*Gilthalion* Hobbitus Emeritus Join Date: Jan 2001 Location: South Farthing Posts: 635	ROHAN RPG <font face="Verdana"><table><TR><TD><FONT SIZE="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Hobbitus Emeritus Posts: 523</TD><TD><img src=http://home.att.net/~robertwgardner/lotrmap.gif WIDTH=60 HEIGHT=60></TD></TR></TABLE> A cry went up from the sentry, riding the perimeter of the camp. It was only a horse. But it was Elfola, the horse of Elfshild, an unusually courageous and intelligent mount, well loved by his master. But now the horse was riderless and fatally injured, barely on his hooves. His heaving sides were thick with lather. His bleeding flanks were torn, almost shredded. Crowds of staring riders looked on in stunned silence as the brave steed stumbled into the center of the camp. Tears came freely and without shame to the eyes of more than one rider as the dying horse came at last to a stop before Theodred himself. There, at the feet of the son of Theoden, the noble beast collapsed and breathed his last ragged breath. Theodred's eyes were bright with the dew of compassion and no heart in the camp was unstirred by the final effort of the horse, spending his last strength to reach the master of his master. Theodred bid that a small mound be raised over Elfola beyond the edge of camp, near where the horses were pastured. It was remarked by many in the camp that it looked as if the horse had been attacked by wolves. But his body had also been marked by weapons, and this set a puzzle for the Riders. Neither Elfshild nor Deomund, who was with him, ever returned and the puzzle was never solved to anyone's satisfaction. But the Riders now felt sure that wolves and orcs had come farther south of the Misty Mountains than they ever had before and that neither Elfshild nor Deomund would be heard from again. The young son of Theoden King had come to inspect the camp that fateful day. He had become concerned, as had much of the Mark, that all was not well to the west. Now he was certain that something was not right. Theodred was a very young man, too young and untested for the burden his shoulders carried. But the old knights of the Mark supported him, the more so since his great father now rarely left Meduseld. The young man took his duties seriously, and none doubted his courage or his skill. He stood dry-eyed as a singer sang a song to honor the horse and his rider and all those who never return. If any Riders still doubted his fitness to lead, none in that camp did after his words to them, said over the mound of Elfola that night. Theodred poured a few drops of wine from a golden cup on the burial mound, and all of the Riders did the same from their cups where they stood, gathered in a great circle, rank upon rank, around the son of their king. Then they turned to hear his words: "Hear me, Eorlingas! "Let all who see this mound know that this day we saw with our own eyes that there are enemies of the Mark who grow bolder than the day before. And we saw that our great friendship with the foals of the Mearas is rewarded with devotion beyond measure. "Let all who see this mound know that the Riders of Rohan will ever strive to earn that devotion with the courage and loyalty it deserves. Gone now are the days of peace and games. See we now the wisdom of Theoden King, who prepared the Riders, bringing back the old ways, making us ready to ride against such a day as this. "I have not seen as many winters as some of you. Yet I can ride and wield spear and bow and sword. Soon, the weapons of the Mark will know targets other than the practice of the field. The weapons of Elfshild and Deomund already have, let no one doubt, for they were brave men and true. We shall ride together in the years to come, for my heart tells me that the days of Rohan's peril is upon us. My heart tells me that many of us shall meet our doom. "The House of Eorl shall not shirk such risk! Whatever befalls us, I will share your fate. My father still hears my words, and he has bid me inspect the defenses of the Mark and order things as I would. Let it not be said that the Riders of Theoden ever followed orders far from the site of battle. And if things are as they seem to me, then I will order many of you to your deaths, as died Elffola here. But your risk shall be mine as well, and there are worse fates than to die in service to save the land your longfathers bought with their blood. "The Dunlendings are grown hostile! Orcs and wolves prowl far from their haunts! Emissaries with fair-seeming words make demands on our King. There are dark rumours on all our borders! And our horses are coveted by the Dark Lord of Mordor. "But let those who think to prey on Rohan know that they will not find the Riders of the Mark craven! As long as I live and you will serve your king, our courage will keep Rohan free!" The riders all cheered as Theodred raised high his cup over the burial mound of the noble steed and then they all drained their cups as one. <center> ~~~</center> Now weeks later, Theodred was in another part of Rohan and the Riders of the camp continued their vigil until he returned with greater numbers. A handful of riders, from under cover of a rocky outcrop near the fords of the River Isen, have seen Grima Wormtongue on the road from Isengard. They challenged his going, but could not gainsay his passage, bearing as he did words from their king to the wizard who was lord there. But they decided to watch for when he returned. As they watched from concealment, Grima met briefly with some men on the other side of the Isen. He then crossed into Rohan and continued on his way. No one observed the watching riders. But they were too far away to hear what Grima said to the men. "Men from where, I'd like to know," said one of them. "Reminded me of orcs somehow." "You've never seen an orc!" said another. "I've heard enough about them from the old timers," replied the first. "And they just reminded me of what I've heard told." "We'll see enough of them soon enough, if young Theodred is right," said a third Rider. "So what should we do now?" The riders had often enough seen Wormtongue traveling between Isengard and Meduseld, sent by Theoden King to Saruman the White. It was whispered that Wormtongue secretly worked for the wizard, and that the dwimmer crafty old man in Isengard was no true friend of the Rohirrim. So who was Grima talking to, and what were they talking about? Their captain had ordered them to return directly to the camp after their watch and not to take any unnecessary risks. Their relief would soon arrive. The riders debated their options. No good detaining Wormtongue. He'd never talk, and Theoden believed too much of what that man said. Sending back to camp for instructions would lose too much time. But they couldn't desert their post. Finally, they decided to wait for their relief, tell them that they were going to track the strange men, and hope that the captain wasn't angry when and if they ever returned... </p>Edited by: <A HREF=http://www.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_profile&u=00000006>Gilthali on</A> at: 7/31/01 12:39:13 pm __________________ Please read my fan fiction novel THE HOBBITS. Wanna hear me read Tolkien? Gilthalion's Grand Adventures!