Reclaiming the City RPG

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Evren galloped through the fields, tired but happy to be so close to her goal. She had thought that she may have gotten lost, despite all of the maps and instructions she had taken with her from Rohan on her way to Gondor, but only an hour ago she had at last gotten her first glimpse of Minas Tirith, the White City, glimmering in the sun from far away. She would soon be inside.
* * *
Evren sighed. She had finally gotten past the guards, who simply would not understand that she was only going in to see the City for a bit, and did not mean any harm there. Now she had only to find a place to stay…
* * *
It was two hours later, and a rather disgruntled Evren was looking through yet another side street. She had heard the phrase “no, no places here tonight, sorry” so many times that she had grown to loathe it dearly. Finally, upon seeing the first stars shining up in the sky above her head, she sighed and settled down in a doorway that looked slightly cozier than the rest. She closed her eyes and hoped to fall asleep quickly.
* * *
Through the blanket of her sleep she heard voices, hushed and slightly muffled, as though coming from the other side of a wall. She stirred and wondered what time it was, hoping that it was not too early. Upon opening her eyes, however, she noted that the sun was hardly up, and all respectable people should be in bed just now, dreaming pleasant dreams. But she could not fall asleep again. For lack of something else to do, she strained to hear the muted words of the conversation inside, pressing her ear up against the wall…
* * *
She had heard quite enough by one hour later to know exactly where she was going next, which she hadn’t had a good idea of the day before. The company had already left, but her horse, who she had managed to find a stable for the night before, was swift, and she was confident that she could catch up to them. She rode out of the city, grateful that the guards were not so inquisitive as they had been yesterday, and followed the speck of dust she could just barely see, the one she knew was the group of riders, led by Fededhor.
* * *
She was dead tired, and felt like the village she was looking for would never emerge from the trees. She was still not sure of exactly why she had decided to come after the men, but when she had heard that a whole village had disappeared her adventurous blood had been awakened, and she had determined herself to go, and knew that had she asked, she would not be allowed to. Shieldmaidens were all to rare…
* * *
She was even more weary than before, if this was possible, when a day or two later she cast down her bags at the edge of the forest and tied her horse to a tree, herself darting into the shadows. She didn’t know if the village had just stopped responding or actually been captured, so she thought she had best be careful. She crept in further, looking for a clearing or at least a tree that looked easy to climb. Finally she found one. Climbing steadily up, she reached the highest branch she was comfortable with her weight on, and only then looked around. If she had not been ready for the possibility of a bloody scene, this one would have made her lose her grip on the tree. The village- or what had been the village was a mess of busily rushing orcs and bloody bodies in the streets. A group of captives was being herded out by some especially vicious looking orcs, ignoring their cries and sufferings. Evren jumped out of the tree, her mind a rush with impossibly muddles ideas. She thought for a moment and decided she had only 3 choices: to go back, and to bring reinforcements for the group of soldiers already out there, to find the group already there and join them, or to rush in herself…the moment she thought of it, she knew she could not go back. It wasn’t the type of thing that she could do, or ever would. She could not decide upon anything at all, so she wandered aimlessly through the woods for a while, lost in thought, forgetting for a moment the danger all around her….
* * *
Evren still hadn’t decided, and was still wandering, when suddenly she heard the sound of iron-shod feet on the path behind her. She jumped into the bushes, just managing to supress a loud gasp about to come from her lips, and the ‘ow’ related to the thorns that she had just fallen into. Poking her face out just a bit, she could see the orcs coming towards her, evil joy written upon every face. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she saw something behind them. A huge…spider. It seemed to be bleeding heavily out of one leg, but able to keep up with the orcs just fine. She did not share the disgust of many women for spiders, but this hugely bloated one made her shiver with revulsion. Suddenly, she realized that the orcs were carrying something…a body of a man. No, not a corpse. It didn’t look like a corpse, but seemed unconsious. She filled with a rage as she had never felt before. The orcs carried away prisoners, sacked cities, and did many more terrible things, simply because of their own whims, or the whims of their masters. She wanted to jump out, to kill them all, but wasn’t sure that she could. And she could not forget the spider...she understood now that she could not do it, that she would merely fall into the hands of the orcs herself...she had to find the soldiers.

************************************************** ****

Herlion felt that he was lying on cold ground, unable to move. He could hardly feel his own limbs through the pain that seemed to envelop him, not letting him even open his eyes. Finally, with a great effort, his eyelids fluttered up- and again came down. He had only enough time to glimpse the face of Iavas, lined with worry, leaning over him, and the quick expression change it went through when he looked up.
* * *
And again, falling, falling...he heard, as if from a distance, the voice of Iavas, saying something to somebody else next to her, and felt a child’s hand on his face before the ground dropped from under him and the darkness began to swirl, wrapping him like a blanket, and he was asleep. Dark dreams…nightmares, even. Nothing mattered.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]