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#41 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,989
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"Well," thought Wyrd, "it's obvious there's no more food here, particularly something more to my liking." He fought off an urge to kill something.
The falcon swooped down from the rafters, flying just above head level of most of the guests and disturbing Rimbaud's fashionable hair cut with a slight flick of the wing. As the bird headed out the window, he saw approaching a women on horseback, leading three other horses. Her dark brown hair was tied back, hatless, but she wore a long sheepskin coat as protection against the cold. Wyrd thought there was something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite place it. He flew to the roof of the stables, to get a closer look at her. [ November 23, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
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#42 |
Etheral Enchantress
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Menelduliniel and Estelarion watched the different people.
"Is that a...Wight?" Menelduliniel asked Estelarion. "I believe so," Estelarion said, laughing, "We certainly attract a diverse crowd here, do we not?" "I wish that the Huin-en-Lhuig would stop by the tavern," Menelduliniel said. "I do not think they would be well-received," Estelarion said. "We would be kind to them," Menelduliniel said. "Yes, well that is because we, too, are exiles in our own lands. We have travelled with them. Many think they are cold-hearted murderers. All of them have committed crimes, remember." "Well, so have I, but people do not flee from my presence. And there are women physically as young as I am with the Huin-en-Lhuig," Menelduliniel said, "Anyway, once everyone heard their music, none would truly desire to drive them away, would they?" "I do not know," Estelarion sighed, "People are funny about others who have murdered." "I murdered," Menelduliniel said, looking like anything but a killer. "I think of that more as a temporary lapse of judgement," Estelarion said, "You are not like Calenagarwaenion. He killed because he desired to do so." "And what was Bran's crime? Tell me that?" Menelduliniel demanded. "He killed his Lord, Menelduliniel!" Estelarion exclaimed. "Now that was an accident," Menelduliniel said. "Well, so was what you did to Poldorawen," Estelarion said, "And you see where that got you today." "Comfortable and in a warm tavern?" Menelduliniel said, avoiding the subject. "No, seeing the one you lust after in the street, crying and running after him, and getting brutally thrown back by his guards," Estelarion said, not letting his voice show any emotion, "You must let the past die. It is over. You will most likely never be allowed to return home." "But he loves me. I know he does," Menelduliniel said, stubbornly. "Has he ever told you that himself? Or showed it?" Estelarion asked, skeptically. "Well, no," Menelduliniel said dejectedly. "My point is proved," Estelarion said, sitting back and drinking his mead. Menelduliniel followed suit and did the same, listening to the tales being told...
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"I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each others dreams, we can be together all the time." - Hobbes of Calvin and Hobbes |
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#43 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel looked up quickly as the young woman that she had seen storm angrily into the bar just a little while before came over to their table. The woman had dark blond hair and was now smiling.
Amanduail, after the woman had asked to join them, said, "Certainly. My name is Amanduail, this is Galadel, Nardol, Susan, and Aranel." The elf pointed to each of them in turn and Haeril nodded to each one of them as she took a seat at the table. Galadel smiled at the young woman and said, "It is good to meet you, Haeril. May I inquire where you are from, for I noticed that you came into this inn without any cloak, despite the cold weather Rohan seems to be having right now?" Haeril looked at the elf suprised. Galadel's name seemed familiar to her. Wondering who the elf was and where she was from, Haeril said, "You seem to notice many things, my lady." And then Haeril answered Galadel's question.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#44 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Apr 2002
Location: Indiana
Posts: 29
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Aranel looked from one new face to the other.She was not comfortable around so many strangers,but she forced herself to try and relax.She reached out her hand after a few moments to touch one of the wolves,and felt its soft black fur beneath her fingers.Tilting her head,she smiled slightly at Aman,and then at Galadel.
"Forgive me," she said in a quiet voice."I am not much used to company these days.Your wolves are beautiful." The others seemed surprised to hear her speak,and returned pleased smiles.Aranel continued to observe the crowd,including the woman who had just walked in.She nodded to her solemnly,and to the others.Suddenly abashed,she lowered her eyes once more.
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All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you. |
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#45 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Completely lost track, sorry!
Posts: 733
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Haeril looked at Aranel then at everyone else, who all seemed suprized that she had spoken.
"They must've just met then." She thought. She was going to say something to Aranel but Aranel looked down and didn't seem to want to be talked to, so instead she said, "Yes, I only come from about half a mile down the road, I just stormed out of the door and forgot my cloak, hence my not wearing it." She said.
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"We might succeed in roasting Pippin alive inside." - Frodo. |
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#46 |
Shadow of Starlight
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"Forgive me," Amanaduial looked up at the womans quiet, reserved voice. "I am not much used to company these days.Your wolves are beautiful."
Amanaduial was slightly stunned for a moment; the woman had seemed terrified. But now Dia was looking intently at Aranel, with the womans hand still resting lightly on her head. After a moment she mentally shook herself and smiled. "Thankyou Aranel. I see they have taken a liking to you as much as you to them." The woman looked slightly flushed and smiled, but less nervously than before. Galadel looked as surprised as Aman felt, staring at the woman with her mouth open until the other nudged her in the ribs. The red haired elf then turned her attention to the new woman who had just joined them, who was also looking at Aranel. Someone had certainly got off on the wrong foot today... "Yes, I only come from about half a mile down the road, I just stormed out of the door and forgot my cloak, hence my not wearing it." She replied to Galadels question. "Stormed out?" Susan inquired. Amanaduial caught her eye and she smiled; she knew the other elf wanted to know just as much as she did. What a coincidence to meet Susan here...why, the last time she saw her was at King Elessars council....she smiled at the memory, then turned back to Haeril. "Oh, just my brothers." She sighed angrily, saying the last word as most people would say "cockroach."
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I am what I was, a harmless little devil |
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#47 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel smiled knowingly at Haeril; her sisters used to annoy her sometimes as well. "Brothers and sisters can be like that," the elf said to the young woman, "but, you still love them."
Galadel then turned and looked around the table, saying, "So, who wants to tell us a tale?" All of them just stared back suprised at her. Galadel sighed and wondered if she would have tell a tale herself, since no one else seemed to want to.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#48 |
Wight
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: In the house of Tom Bombariffic
Posts: 196
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Before she could elaborate on this, the gwaith-formen appeared from the door to their quarters. Turning to his audience, himhith smiled.
"Thank you, good people of the White horse inn, for your hospitality. My companions and I are well rested and looking forward to beginning our tale, some of which we shall perform if that is acceptable. We, however, are only three and our tale tells of four. Perhaps one of you good people would aid us in our performance?" Beaming, he looked at Galadel. "how about you, good lady?"
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The 'hum' generated by an electric car is not in fact the noise of the engine, but that of the driver's self-righteousness oscillating at a high frequency. |
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#49 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel looked up suprised at Himhith. Wondering what he might mean, Galadel stood up and bowed. "How may I be of service to you, sir?" the elf said, a smile playing at her lips as she began walking towards him.
Himhith was caught off guard. He had never been bowed to by one of the Noldor elf, and this she-elf was the Ruler of Lothlorien, the daughter of Lady Galadriel. Himhith smiled to Galadel walked towards him, and, when she reached him, he explained his plan to her.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#50 |
Wight
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: In the house of Tom Bombariffic
Posts: 196
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The gwaith-formen and galadel retired to a separate room for a little under half and hour for the story to be explained to her, in order that she might help them act it out. During this time a stage was constructed in the main room of the inn, with tables and chairs set all around it. The audience waited, drank ale and chatted in expectation. The story told of realms far away, out across the great sea to the shores of the hidden land of aman, to which no elf present had ever been. The gwaith-formen were of Laiquendian origin, and any other elves present, galadel included, were born in middle-earth. It told of the Noldor's flight from aman, a common story among elves, but particularly of four elves, two brothers of Noldorian origin and a brother and sister of the Teleri, whos families had been joined through marriage, but who were torn apart by the slaying of finbeleg by maegrin her husband at Alqualonde. The story ended with maegrin stabbing his wife, played by galadel, for which the storytellers used a retractable knife which the gwaith-formen had fashioned themselves previously. Galadel was slightly upset at the subject of the tale but soon agreed that it was a most moving tale, and she was not afraid to narrate the folly of her ancestors, painful though it may be.
The players were greeted by a cheer from the small audience as they emerged from their room, ready to perform. Nobody had noticed that the gwaith-formen had come without their promsised "loyal followers". Without further ado they launched into their tale which told of the lives of the four elves from their birth in Middle earth, to the great journey to aman, to the noldor's flight to Alqualonde, and finally of the kinslaying. Gladel was too caught up to notice that the knife in her slayer's hand was not the retractable one she had practiced with. Just as himhith, who played maegrin, raised his arm to stab galadel, the door of the tavern burst open and there stood three noble-lloking elves, with a swarming crowd of various different races behind them. "Excuse us, for we are the gwaith-formen. I trust you recieved our message? We came to join the tale-telling, but it appears we are late. Have we disturbed something?" The whole inn froze. "then who are these imposters?" screamed galadel, turning to face her assailants. But the back door was open, and the three elves were gone.
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The 'hum' generated by an electric car is not in fact the noise of the engine, but that of the driver's self-righteousness oscillating at a high frequency. |
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#51 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Apr 2002
Location: Indiana
Posts: 29
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The realzation of what had happened struck Aranel quickly,but she knew even as she jumped to her feet it was of no avail.She felt the hilt of the sword that had been concealed by her cloak.The place was all now on its feet with her,and the confusion was maddening.She could not tell what Galadel's reaction had been,but she herself was greatly enraged.She felt her face flush and took a few steps into the room,but then,remembering herself and her surroundings,she pulled her cloak round her once more and stepped back against the side wall.The uneasyness she had felt would follow her always,but this elf had befriended her,and that could not be forgotten.What was more,she was the daughter of Galadriel.Who would dare to attempt this thing?
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All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you. |
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#52 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galdel couldn't believe it. Why had those three elves impersonated the story tellers? Then, suddenly, realization hit Galadel. They had tried to murder her! She had thought that the knife looked too real. Galadel swayed as she realized how close she had come to being murdered, an d she nearly passed out.
Across the room, Amanduail saw Galadel sway and start to fall down. Amanduail started to rece towards the elf, but Nardol beat her to Galadel. Nardol gently held Galadel as he knelt on the floor. He took the elf and brought her to a table, and layed her down on it. Then, he took some herbs out of his ouch, mixed them with some water, and poured it down Galadel's throut. When Galadel awoke, she was surrounded by almost all the people of the inn. She blinked in suprise, and then noticed Amanduail and Nardol standing by her. Both of their faces were slightly pale and they were frowning worriedly at her. "Are you all right?" asked Nardol. "You certainly gave us a scare, Galadel," said Amanduail, her voice shaking. "Sorry, " said Galadel, getting up from the table and standing on the floor unsteadily, her legs shaking as she remembered why she had passed out. Amanduail noticed Galadel's shaking legs, quickly said something to Nardol, and went off to shoo the on-lookers away. Nardol quietly took Galadel's arm and led her to a seat. "Now, Galadel," began Nardol, "are you sure that you are allright?" "Yes, I am," said Galadel, "Thank you for asking." "Did you know whp those three elves were that you acted out the play with?" asked Nardol, looking at the pale-looking elf sitting across from him. "No," said Galadel, "I just met them today. Do you really think that they were trying to kill me?" Galadel, getting paler all the time, looked over scared at Nardol.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#53 |
Wight
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: In the house of Tom Bombariffic
Posts: 196
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The real gwaith-formen still stood framed in the doorway, trying to quiet down their muttering followers. They did not fully understand what had taken place, but realised that it was no laughing matter.
Aranna was their leader, and he coughed politely to gain attention. The focus of the tavern was turned to him and his companions. "we apologise for any disturbance we have caused", oblivious that he had just saved Galadel's life, "but may we be of any assistance?" They were invited inside, while their band of followers either stood inside near the door, or looked on thriugh the windows, and there the whole story was narrated to them: of how they had been impersonated, of the imposters' deliberate choice of galadel as a helper, galadel filled in what had passed in their rehearsal. "But who were these people?", asked Aranna. "they left their knife!" remarked esgaltaur, second of the gwaith-formen. He bent over and picked it up. "there's a marking on the handle...but I do not understand it. I speak only common elven-tongue." passing it to galadel, he asked "what does it mean?" Galadel looked at the handle, and gasped.
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The 'hum' generated by an electric car is not in fact the noise of the engine, but that of the driver's self-righteousness oscillating at a high frequency. |
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#54 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,989
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Atop the stable's roof of cedar shakes, Wyrd eyed the approaching group of horses, his sight darting rapidly from the rider to the horses to the ground where prey might be scurrying and back to the rider. Smallish, she was nearly concealed behind her horse's head, her dark brown hair almost blending with the mane of her sorrel mount.
The woman slowed the horses from a canter to a walk once they entered the packed, well-trodden dirt street which housed The White Horse and then, before they reached the Inn, she dismounted with a slight jump to walk the horses. She wasn't tall, her head barely reaching her sorrel's whithers. She didn't stop at the Inn, but led the four poneyed horses towards the Inn's large stable, almost larger than the Inn itself as befits a Rohan establishment. Sensing the falcon's gaze, the woman looked up and nodded at it as she swung open the large wooden door. She was lithe, energetic and her every move was purposive and supple. Leading each horse to a stall, she removed bit, bridle and halter from the three bays and the saddle and blanket as well from her sorrel. Each horse she brushed down with both curry and dandy brush, standing so close to animals that her shoulder and hip touched their flanks. Each hoof she picked carefully, cleaning it of debris from the day's long ride. As she worked, she spoke to each horse and each nuzzled her as she walked around their front. Growing hot as she groomed the horses, she quickly removed her sheepskin coat, flinging it over her saddle bags. She was attired in worn leather boots, which rose to mid-calf, a belted tunic, slit on both sides, which hung nearly to her knees and which was embroidered on the edges with cross stitches and flowers. Under the tunic she wore a wool shirt, curled around her neck, with long sleeves, and wide pants tucked into her boots. She worked fast, spreading straw into each stall, then hay, before mixing some oat and beet pulp to feed the horses. Clearly she knew her way around this stable. Once the horses were cared for, she pitched the long fork into the pile of straw once again, to send mice and other vermin scrambling. Wyrd swooped down and she turned her back to the bird. Her labours over, she yet lingered. She went to her sorrel, scratching his ears as he ate and combing his mane with her fingers as she spoke to him. Finally, almost reluctantly, she picked up her coat and saddle bags, and left the stable, closing the heavy door behind her and heading to the Inn. She spied Froma the cook and hallo'ed him. "Another run, Ćlfritha?" he asked. "Yes, a short one. Three bays to an estate skirting Fangorn Forest," she replied. "You want dinner? Root vegetable stew or chicken pastries?" "The stew, with your dark rye bread, thanks, Froma. And some wine." She glanced furtively over the assembled guests. "You and Bethberry have a large crowd tonight. I'll eat in the library." With those words the woman Ćlfritha strode away from the mead benches where the revelry was loudest and sought a large wooden chair, covered with rough, embroidered pillows, near the books. She plunked her saddle bags on the floor beside her, wrapped her coat over her shoulders and curled up into the chair, her legs tucked under her, to gaze at the curling flames in the fireplace.
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
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#55 |
Wight
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Sandor began to prance and play small pranks upon her rider as they road through the narrow streets of capitol of Rohan. She was a well bread warhorse, able to bear the weight of knights as they thundered across battlefields and withstand the sounds and smell of slaughter. Ransom Deviolana smiled to himself, glad that his mount was enjoying herself. Meanwhile, the Blademaster of the White Tower began to pick his way toward the White Horse Inn. Perhaps he’d find word his target there. Than again, perhaps it would be like most of his other stops-pleasant but fruitless. He sighted and removed his cloak, running through his black hair with his gauntlets while gazing at the locals with his black eyes. The road was ever long, and his quarry ever careful.
Ransom dismounted and lead the horse into the stable, going through the normal routine of caring for his mount. Soon, Sandor found herself chewing on some straw while absentmindedly killing the last few flies of the season with her tail. Her blue cloaked master smiled and tipped the stable boy to ensure proper care before quietly walking to the inn. He entered as inconspicuously as he could, covering the considerable amount of metal he wore (and used) with his large and heavy cloak. Still, the various clinks and bangs, not to mention the sword clipped on his belt. [ November 25, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]
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"The blood of the dead mixes with the the flowing sand and grants more power to the killer."--Gaara of the Desert |
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#56 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Apr 2002
Location: Indiana
Posts: 29
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Glad to find herself forgotten,the woman watched for a while as Galadel was cared for.Taking a deep breath,she inwardly kicked herself.What had she imagined she could do,going for the sword that hung at her hip? She did not know how to use it.She had brought it to protect herself,but even that she could not manage.
Seeing the others gathered around Galadel,she did at least feel assured that she would be safe.Walking silently round the walls to the to the far side of the inn,she slipped through a slightly open door,hoping to find some solitude.The Gwaith-formen had arrived,but she was little in the mood for tales,and there was surely no chance of any tonight in any event.She stepped through the door and listened to their voices grow faint.
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All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you. |
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#57 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel stared down at the sword in her hands, her face draining of all color once again. She was very reluctant to handle this knife it was black, an dshe could tell that evil spells had been woven about it for the killing of Elves, and their ancestors, who had seen the Light of Valinor.
Barely knowing that anyone was in the room, she slowly read out loud the evil words on the sword, "The Darkness shall sweep over Middle Earth and swallow up the Light. The Elves of the Light shall pay for what they have done to us. We will make them pay." Galadel looked up at the rows of shocked faces around her and said, "This sword was made Dark Elves who never saw the light of Valinor. They hate the Elves of the Light, who saw the light of Valinor, and all teir ancestors. These Elves especially do not like us Lothlorien Elves and which to destroy us all, but I nvever thought that they would ever try to kill an Elf." Amanduail looked over at her pale friend, and said, "You are no ordinary Elf of Lothlorien, Galadel. Of course they would whichto kill you. They tried to kill your mother once, didn't they?" "Yes," answered Galadel, her voice very soft, "Yes, once long ago."
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#58 |
Guest
Posts: n/a
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A considerable tip was placed in the stable boy's hand, bringing an instant smile to his face. He would make sure that the man's horse was cared for as best as he could. Pocketing his newly gained reward, the stable boy's diminutive frame was overshadowed by two passing figures.
The first figure was a dark horse, carrying straps and bags appearing as if they had seen ages upon ages of travel and harsh weather. The animal itself seemed powerful and healthy, lean and well muscled at the same time. Leading the horse by it's reins was the second figure. All that the boy could see when he looked up was a square chin with a flourishing beard. The rest of the stranger's face was hidden in the shadows of a hood. A great cloak covered his entire body, forest green in color. It had also seen it's fair share of wear and tear. Sligh tearing had begun to erode the bottom of the cloak, and dried mud made interesting brown and gray patterns on the green fabric. The stable boy meant to speak up, but could only gulp. The cloaked stranger went past him, horse following loyally -- to a stall, where the numerous pieces of riding gear was taken from the steed's body and set aside. Watching carefully, the stable boy noted the silent appreciation that the horse and stranger had for one another. Faster than he could react, the cloaked stranger was standing before him. The stable boy stumbled back slightly, startled. "Here you go," a soft voice sounded from underneath the hood of the cloak. Another tip was given to the stable boy. "Thank you.." The stranger was already making his way to the entrance of the inn, his worn cloak sweeping behind him like a banner in the wind. |
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#59 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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A young girl, with chocolate hair and eyes slowly made her way to the inn. She carried her father's sword, feeling awkward carrying it in broad daylight. The girl was barely fifteen.
Finally Jaellyn made her way to the inn's front door. She hoped to go unoticed, at least until she could gather her wits. Her father and brothers had been recruited for an army. Leaving Jaellyn alone with her bedridden mother. The young lady tighted her shawl and sat down. She hadn't slept in days. Too many things troubled her, hindering her sleep. Jaellyn sat down, hoping no one would reconise her. Her mother was known as the best pie maker in town. Jaellyn wished she could go back in time. She missed the days of playing with her siblings and helping her mother. The girl wished someone could help. [ November 30, 2002: Message edited by: Morai ]
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"So why the safe distance, this curious look? Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book? Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar? MeWithoutYou http://fortyfifthparadox.com |
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#60 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Before anyone could reply a tall man(altough so it seemed) came walking in the inn. He wore a hooded cloack and was much of a mystery. As he came in he toke of the cloack and now the group could see it was an elf.
He wore a long sword on his waist witch looked like a ranger sword of a D?nedan. He also wore a quiver with arrows and a bow on his back and a long battle knife in his belt. He sayd the in keeper goodday and wandered where Bethberry was. He saw that all the visitors where packed together in the corner and he went over there. "Hello everyone I am Anuion an elven ranger born in Mirkwood. I come from the shire and I am looking for tales and most important: Adventure"He sayd."Would you mind if I would join your nice group? ________ PROTECTION AND INDEMNITY INSURANCE FORUM Last edited by Helkahothion; 03-07-2011 at 03:31 AM. |
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#61 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Apr 2002
Location: Indiana
Posts: 29
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Aranel quickly opened the door and came again into the main room,her eyes wide.Though everything else that had been said was muffled,the words Galadel had read from the knife had come through crystal clear.She approached her,ignoring the others, and looked at her wide-eyed.
She dropped her gaze to the knife and then up again at Galaled and the others. "I have seen a knife like this before."
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All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you. |
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#62 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Canada
Posts: 40
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"I knew you would make a mess of this, I don't know why I just didn't go my own way." said Helda combing her dirty hair with her a small comb, all they had left besides a little money.
"How could this possibly be my fault?! You're the one who insisted on stopping at that Inn when it was obvious we could only find trouble at such a bawdy place!" cried Mariah at her sister as she vainly tried to clean off her feet, now cold and muddy from walking barefoot. Mariah looked up at the tavern they had stopped outside off. 'The White Horse' seemed a nice enough place, likely not too expensive. She only wished she did not look like a beggar. Her plain dress was so ripped and thorn it could have once been a gown of silk and no one would have been able to tell. A small kerchief kept her tangled hair out of a tired face, worn with built up anger. "Oh no we're not stopping here, we'll only find snobs who'll kick us out at sight." argued Helda "I saw another tavern not too far back where we might even be able to pick up a coin or two." Mariah frowned at Helda and turned on heel, walking toward the White Horse door. "Mari-!" Helda's voice was cut off by the closing of the tavern door. Her eyes surveyed the tavern as her hands ran nervously over her dirty skirt. She felt a small lump in the skirt pocket and dung out a pouch, contained what was left of their money.
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~Ivy~ |
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#63 |
Spirit of Mist
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,351
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A server thrust a tankard of ale towards the Elven Ranger, then turned to the door as two maidens entered. He looked at the ladies appraisingly, then secured two glasses of red wine which he delivered with deft dispatch. "On the house," he said with a wink as he turned away...
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Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land. |
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#64 |
Shadow of Starlight
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Amanaduial listened raptly to Galadels tale. The elfs face was pale and she was shaking slightly.
"You are no ordinary Elf of Lothlorien I think, Galadel." She said gently as she slotted the pieces together. "Of course they would wish to kill you. They tried to kill your mother once, didn't they?" "Yes," answered Galadel, her voice very soft, "Yes, once long ago." Aman breathed out slowly, turning the bizarre events over. Those elves, so deviously trying to kill her friend. So clever and so cruel- were the two fated always to go together? She gritted her teeth and looked down at her wolves, one fo whom was sitting by Galadel, his head pushed under her hand, sensing her distress. No one would take away her friend, no matter how devious. But she must unravel this... "Will you tell me about it?" She said softly.
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I am what I was, a harmless little devil |
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#65 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Completely lost track, sorry!
Posts: 733
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Haeril looked on at Galadel, making sure she was alright, but she was tired. This place had turned out to have more confrontations than at home. She looked around again and downed the last of her ale. She noticed lots of new faces entering and lots of old faces leaving,
"Sure is busy in here today." she said quietly to herself. Haeril looked outside, it was overcast and windy, not the ideal weather to walk half a mile in without a cloak. Still, it was her own fault she didn't have one, she'd have to 'grin and bear it' as they said. Haeril walked up to the door and walked out, the cold wind biting into her skin, she ran down the road and out of sight, hugging herself tigtly, trying to stay as wawrm as possible.
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"We might succeed in roasting Pippin alive inside." - Frodo. |
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#66 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galdel rubbed the ear of the wolf next to her fondly, and he rubbed his warm body against her. Galadel looked up at Amanduail, her eyes were slightly glazed as she remembered a story that her mother had once told her.
"Once, in the First Age, my mother was walking in a wood near the outskirts of the Girdle of Melian. This was a little while before she actually met Lady Melian, though. Well, as she was walking, she came across an elf with black hair and dressed all in black. Galadriel thought that this was very strange, for Elves rarely ever wear black, so she asked him his name. He told her that his name was Morel and that he was a Dark Elf. Suddenly, my mother was filled with fear, for she had heard some terrible stories of how Dark Elves hate Elves who have seen the Light of Valinor. The Dark elf grinned evily at Galadriel, and tried to kidnap her, for he wanted her as his wife. My mother ran from him to the Girdle of Melian, where she was taken in by Melian. It is said by some that Morel swore death to Galadriel and all her descendents because she would not wed with him. Ever since then the feud between the Elves of Light (especially us Lothorien Elves) and the Dark ELves has been fierce."
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#67 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Being exaughsted, Jaellyn payed for a room. She walked towards the stairs. Unfortunatly the girl tripped over someones stool. Letting out a scream, Jaellyn fell over. Her sword flew out of it's sheath.
Some noticing the accident started laughing. Jaellyn turned bright crismon. A stranger reached out to help her up....
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"So why the safe distance, this curious look? Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book? Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar? MeWithoutYou http://fortyfifthparadox.com |
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#68 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel turned, startled, as the young woman fell down onto the floor. Making her way through the crowd, Galadel bent down to help the embarrassed woman up. Amanduail, following behind Galadel, picked up the woman's sword and gave it to her.
"Thank you," said the woman, blushing slightly as she heard some of the people in the room break out in laughter. Galadel turned around and glared at the people who had just laughed, and then she and Amanduail led the woman to a chair and ordered a mug of ale for her from the barkeeper. "Thank you for helping me, " said the woman, smiling, "I was so embarrased when I fell over that stool. By the way, my name is Jaellyn." Galadel smiled back at Jaellyn, and introduced herself, "Hello, Jaellyn, my name is Galadel, and this is my friend, Amanduail. We are glad that we could help. Are you sure that you are all right, though? No broken bones or anything?" Galadel grinned at Jaellyn and handed her the mug of ale that the barkeeper had just brought over.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#69 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Jaellyn suddenly realised what she was speaking to. Her eyes opened wide with shock, quickly glancing at her ale.
"Don't worry I'm fine. Are you an elf?" She asked. The girl sipped her drink, grinning at the taste.
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"So why the safe distance, this curious look? Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book? Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar? MeWithoutYou http://fortyfifthparadox.com |
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#70 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Canada
Posts: 40
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Mariah sat down a took a swing of her free red wine. One glup and the contents of the glass disapeared. She shamefully avoided eye contact with anyone, especially Helda and put the puch of coins on the counter. She tilted her eyes to ceilling after counting the coins and the rim of her vision blurred with tears which threated to spill down her cheeks.
Barely enough to buy a loaf of bread. Mariah blinked once or twice to dry her eyes, took a deep breath and looked at Helda "We must make some good decisions now or starve" she whispered to her sister "This means you have to keep your mouth shut, you understand?" Mariah's tone was so forceful, something Helda had never heard before, that her sister could only nod. "We will search for a Lady in need of hand maids and enter in her service." Helda opened her mouth with a shocked expression but Mariah didn't let her get a word in edgewise "I don't care if you will not be reduce to doing something for some one else for once in your life, I just don't care. We are both going to look for some one to whom we can enter service. You're not leaving this one up to me to handle. Now come, I saw a well outside. First thing we'll do is wash up a bit, no Lady will have a filty hand maid and for once you must let me do the talking" [ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]
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~Ivy~ |
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#71 |
Guest
Posts: n/a
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Having settled into the far corner of the inn, the stranger remained silent. He worked on wrapping his course hands in bands of cloth. The cloth seemed to be soaked with darkness, and what showed of his fingers were covered with dirt and dried crimson.
He took most interest in the elf maiden and the girl she was talking to. For a moment, he peered at the two from underneath his hood. Then he returned to wrapping up his wounded hands. |
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#72 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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"A good day to you fellow Ranger" Anuion sayd."I saw you sitting in the corner and know from own experience that drinking alone is not good. Would you mind some company from a fellow ranger?"
________ Vaporizer Last edited by Helkahothion; 03-07-2011 at 03:31 AM. |
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#73 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel smiled over at the young woman sitting across from her. "Yes, I am an elf. I am from Lothlorien. Which is a ways from here. And you, I assume are a human," said Galadel, grinning, "Are you from around here? Or do you live in Gondor, or some other place?"
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#74 |
Guest
Posts: n/a
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"I don't mind at all," he said without looking up from his hands. His voice was soft, but had a subtle strength.
"What is an elf from Mirkwood doing in Rohan?" |
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#75 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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"I live at the bakery down the street. My mother bakes...used to... bake pies...she cant anymore...." Jaellyn trailed off. Her eyes seemed downcast, distant in another place. She desperately tried to hold back the tears.
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"So why the safe distance, this curious look? Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book? Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar? MeWithoutYou http://fortyfifthparadox.com |
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#76 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Galadel looked over sadly as the womn tried to stop form crying. The elf leaned over and patted the woman slightly on the back.
"What is this bakery of yours called, Jaellyn?" asked Galadel, a smile playing on her lips and a plan forming in her head.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#77 |
Guest
Posts: n/a
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The Ranger's eyes looked past the shoulder of his elf companion, settling on Galadel and the girl. For some odd reason, he could not shake his interest for them away. Casting his eyes down, he focused on the sting of his hands instead.
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#78 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Canada
Posts: 40
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Mariah walked outside leading her sister, who followed surprisingly meekly, to the well where she pulled up the bucket of water.
"Lean back" she told Helda and Helda surprisingly did. She dumped the cold water over Helda hair and face and Helda let out a gasp. "Yes, it's cold but you'll have to bear it" They washed their faces and took turns washing and combing out each others hair, saying not much except for a complaint from Helda now and then that Mariah was pulling too hard. "Now what shall we do for our dresses?" asked Mariah The question was not exactly directed toward Helda who replied anyway "I saw a house back that ways that had some clothes hanging out to dry, one of the dresses looked about my size..." "I don't think stealing is the right was to go about this." The two stood for a moment is silence, Mariah thinking of where they could find suitable dresses, Helda looking around for a mirror. An old woman passed them, carry a bundle of clothes. The woman stumbled over her own feet and fell to the ground. Helda jumped up emidiantly and picked up one of the dresses and began to turn away, Mariah stopped her with a glare. "Oh thank you" said the old woman "it's so very nice of you to help me" "It's a rather large bundle you have there ma'am." said Mariah politely "Oh yes. My last daughter was just married off to some rich noble, she's no more need of these old dresses now. I was thinking to taking them to my friend who lives not far, she's got a fine hand with sewing. Wrinkles and a weary hands haven't stopped her from sewing yet and she will be until her dieing day I say. It's a good thing too, my does she make the loveliest things. Why she made my daughters wedding dress, and my daughter needed a fancy one too being married to a rich man and all. He might be taking her to Gondor, that I don't approve much of. but who am I but an old woman? An old woman who busted her chops every day for her children, feed them, cleaned them, kept them warm at night, healed whatever caused them ill but no gratitude for me" said old woman, hardy pausing for breath. "Well" said Mariah "Maybe we could take those clothes off your hands. We had a fire at our house a while back and my sister's and I have lost most of our dresses in the fire." "Gladly deary" said the old woman handing over the dresses "Such a shame about your house. Why I had a friend about 5 years back who was careless with..." "Oh dear we really must be running, mother is expecting us home" burst in Helda and dragged Mariah away "That was a little rude Helda, we could have at least thanked her" said Mariah "That woman has a lot of steam and I didn't want to stick around to see when she'd run out." Helda said impatiently "I don't think she could stop talking if she tried. Now let's get changed." [ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]
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~Ivy~ |
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#79 |
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Feeling someone watching her, Galadel looked up at a ranger, sitting at a table not far away, who looking over at her. When the ranger saw Galadel looking at him, he lowered his eyes. Galadel peered at what he was looking at, and with her keen elven eyes she realized that he was wrapping his hands. Pity stirred in her heart as she realized that his hands must be wounded.
Excusing herself, Galadel walked quietly over the the ranger, trying not to let him know that she was coming towards him. As Galadel reached the table, the man and the elf sitting together looked up at her, surprised. "Hello," said Galadel looking down at the two, "My name is Galadel. May I ask the names of you two, my good sirs." Galadel smiled at them, hoping that they would annswer her.
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“Words can never convey the incredible impact of our attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we respond to it." -Charles R. Swindoll |
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#80 |
Guest
Posts: n/a
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Eyes focused on his hands, he sensed the elf maiden's approach. His companion was rather silent, but he didn't mind. The ranger was used to, and often preferred, silence over conversation.
As Galadel reached a few steps away from his position, he peered out from under his hood. As she stopped in front of the table and as she spoke, he took in her sight. "Though I have many names, you can call me Ilithorn," was his response. He sat up in his seat, and for the first time his hood slowly fell from his head -- revealing a man with damp and long dark hair and a full beard. Grey eyes locked onto the elf maiden, and he said nothing after that. |
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