![]() |
![]() |
Visit The *EVEN NEWER* Barrow-Downs Photo Page |
![]() |
#1 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
This is an audition only RPG; please see the discussion thread for details.
The story started here: A troubled night at The White Horse Inn ... Game Owner: Bethberry ========== Dismay, confusion, anger, helplessness reigned. Many feet trod over the stable floor, the street outside, more with incomprehension than with clear purpose. Finally, a strong voice cried out over the milling crowd. It was Anglachel, calling them to order and purpose, with quick results. Then old Eomund spoke up. "I am too old to ride with you in pursuit, but I know your family, Ælfritha, and would help you all I can. Take these two horses, Nithal and Doric. It looks like the thieves took the back alley and thence to the gate. The gatekeeper, too, has been attacked. He yet lies unconscious." "I am appalled to hear that more harm is done. These are brutal thieves and arrogant in their daring. My family will remember your aid, Eomund," spoke a stern Ælfritha, her face full of stoic resolve. Another voice spoke up, but of lighter timbre. It was Bethberry. "I cannot leave the Inn, but I can offer you provisions. Here, saddle bags of biscuits, dried fruits, meats, canteens. Blankets also." Ælfritha nodded her thanks, wordlessly. Other voices called out offering arms, ropes, spare tack, ointments and unguents for horse care, provisions. All of Edoras had been awakened, even the Golden Hall, which sent two Riders and four horses before dawn had creased the night sky. Ælfritha and Anglachel spoke quietly with them. Quickly, a posse was forming for the pursuit. ======= The game is temporarily closed. It will open once characters are chosen.
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#2 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: Arizona
Posts: 40
![]() |
![]()
“Little time have I spent amongst the Rohirrim, yet little is a word I would never use to describe the spirit of your people,” said Anglachel to Ælfritha. “Truly an outsider cannot understand your love of horses without seeing it first hand. I pity the thief who dares to steal a horse from Rohan.”
“But I do not,” said Ælfritha without hesitation. “They will not get far.” Anglachel turned from the conversation momentarily to check the progress of the preparations. Goods and provisions were arriving in abundance, and several of the Rohirrim had already volunteered to help with the pursuit. Impressive, thought Anglachel as he nodded approval, the Rohirrim can be quite dedicated to a task when motivated. Being satisfied that the posse would be mobile soon, he returned to the conversation with Ælfritha. “Nevertheless, it is common knowledge amongst traveling merchants that the Rohirrim rarely leave their own lands. While that makes Rohan a favorite spot for the merchant with a full cart, it does not bode well for your team of pursuit should the thieves make it out of Rohan,” said Anglachel. “We do not have time to locate a tracker,” said Ælfritha, “unless there is something else you had in mind?” Though Anglachel paused a moment in thought, he had already come to a decision several minutes before. Nevertheless, he collected his thoughts before presenting his proposal to Ælfritha. “Initially, I had planned to visit Gondor and then travel to the land east of the Rhun before returning to Esgaroth,” said Anglachel. “Yet, there is no reason I cannot conduct my business in the East first and then journey to Gondor. I had planned to spend a few days in Edoras, but under the circumstances, I will ready to travel with you when you depart. I have been to all corners of Middle Earth, and I know the roads of this land as well many trackers. Whether these Easterlings are returning home or even if they serve some darker purpose, I can help to locate them.” Ælfritha quickly accepted this offer, knowing Anglachel spoke shrewdly on these matters. Before leaving to gather his few possessions, Anglachel turned to his new traveling companion, “One last thought,” said Anglachel. “Make sure there are at least a few in the group who can handle a sword or bow, for it is a dangerous road we are about to take. As a seasoned traveler I can fight in a pinch, but remember, I am a tradesman, not a swordsman.” He gave Ælfritha a quick smile as he excused himself to make final preparations. |
![]() |
![]() |
#3 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: somewhere out there
Posts: 29
![]() |
![]()
Deorlin was just finishing his ale and wiping the back of his hand across his mustache when he heard Aelfritha's grim declaration of the theft of the horses. He was on his feet in an instant, making for the door. All was confusion as the inn patrons talked loudly amongst themselves or joined the stream of horse owners, and the merely curious, going to see which beasts were missing. Deorlin swore under his breath as he pushed his way out into the darkness of the yard and thence to the stables. If Frey was gone . . . he wouldn't even allow himself to finish the thought.
A few short strides brought him to the stall where he had tended to his friend no more than 30 minutes before. Like all Rohirrim, to Deorlin his horse was more than just a means of travel or beast of burden - he was a friend, a true and loyal companion. More like a beloved family member than a four legged servant, or pet even. The bond formed between rider and mount was almost indescribable. In Frey, Deorlin would place his utmost trust, and there was no value in gold or jewels that could be placed on him. So without question, whenever they stopped for a respite from their journeying, Deorlin always tended to Frey's needs before his own. And he had left his friend here in this stall, with a bucket of fresh water and a manger of sweet hay. And now . . . Empty! Deorlin's heart pounded in his chest, his blood throbbing in his temples. No! This can not be, he thought wildly. I am bound to go to Theoden! I must report on all that I have witnessed and heard these last few months! But, Frey . . . where have they taken him? What fate awaits him? I can not abandon him . . . but my duty to the king? Deorlin cursed his own stupidity for having chosen to stop, having been this close to Meduseld. Torn between his two conflicting loyalties, Deorlin hesitated. But in his heart, he knew what he must do. Resolutley, he strode back to the inn, once more pushing his way through the noisy crowd. Standing tall, even among his fellow Rohirrim, he soon spotted Aelfritha and called out to her. "Here am I, Deorlin, son of Deorwine, rider of the Mark, newly returned to our beloved land of Rohan. My horse, my companion, Frey, has been taken. If there is anyone here who can lend me the use of a mount, I will ride with you and not return unless it is with my Frey, and the others which have been so vilely stolen. Say you now, is there a horse I can borrow? If not, I'll run along side you, for this sort of of treachery can not be tolerated in our land. Not while a rider of the mark draws breath." While waiting for Aelfritha's reply, the thought flashed through Deorlin's mind that these were dark days indeed when strangers came boldly into the very heart of Rohan, undetected, and stole good horses right out from under the noses of their people. The time was drawing near, very near, when all must look to their hearts and their sword arm to fight for what they held most dear, be it horse, family or country. There was no doubt in his own mind, the east was rising, and swiftly too! [ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]
__________________
"Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds" |
![]() |
![]() |
#4 |
Maiden of Tears
|
![]()
Malienna stood up as Aelfritha made the announcement. Her first fear was for her own horse, Naroch, until she remembered he had been stabled elsewhere for the night. That feeling of worry now over, she turned her thought to the matter in hand. Surely others would be feeling the worry of the loss of a horse, and her first task was to help them. Surely she could not sit in the Inn allowing the others to go, when she could help?
“Aelfritha, I will go with you. I will help in any way I can,” Malienna spoke to the woman, who merely nodded, and continued her preparations. Malienna slipped up to her room, placed a few items of clothing and herbs for healing in her bag, for they could be useful, though she had little skill. She put on her chainmail, but feeling selfconscious, she fastened another top over it. Pulling on her boots, and picking up her knives she stood up, ready to ride, and to fight. With her sword by her side, she went back downstairs. She slipped outside and asked a stableboy to make ready her horse before they would leave. This done, she stepped back into the Inn to see who else was accompanying them on this quest. As yet, only one or two had volunteered, but she felt sure there would soon be more. [ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]
__________________
'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
![]() |
![]() |
#5 |
Wight
|
![]()
Some time earlier...
The air was thick and warm. The moon shone coldly down, reflecting off of the Forgoil's dwelling-places, and giving the whole scene an chill. Gormel bared his teeth in an animalistic smile as he loped through the streets of Edoras, confident in his band to quiet any disturbance his appearance might create. Indeed, a sharply indrawn breath betrayed the presence of one of the Strawheads, out for an evening stroll perhaps, but it was quickly followed by a spinning blade, and a choked sigh. Gormel never paused. He reached the Inn. Golden light spilled from its windows, and the sounds of merrymaking floated forth into the night. Gormel paused at the entrance to the stable, and motioned with his free hand. Two figures, cloaked and hooded, slipped past him into the stable. Gormel allowed himself a noisy exhalation of breath then, although his sharp eyes never ceased roving the landscape. This was the most dangerous part of the operation, he knew. One discordant sound from the four-legs, and the cursed Northerners would stream from the building like a kicked anthill. Rhana would be inside now, blindfolding the beasts and persuading them to come quietly, while Bhurthnin, his loyal second, stood by to dispatch any beast that caused trouble. Better to arrive a few horses short than be caught in the act, he thought, and showed his teeth in what could be taken for a smile, by a blind man. A blind man facing the wrong way, on a moonless night. Maybe. A soft nicker brought his attention back where it belonged. Rhana was leading the horses out, silent as a wisp of cloud. She had swathed their hooves in cloth. Gormel nodded approvingly. For a foreign mercenary, and a woman to boot, she had her uses. Several other "uses" flickered through his dark mind, and he grinned again. He caught Bhurthnin's eye, and raised one eyebrow. His second showed his blade, clean of blood but for a spot on the hilt, and Gormel nodded again, less happily. He was displeased that the man had merely clubbed whoever had been in the stable, and would deal with it later, but he couldn't waste time finishing the job properly now. The time for secrecy was nearly at an end, then it would be a race back across the Riddermark. Gathering his band around him, he led them back through the streets of Edoras, out the gate, and down the hill into the night.
__________________
This is my quest, to follow that star; no matter how hopeless, no matter how far. To fight for the right, without question or pause. To be willing to march into Hell for a Heavenly cause! -Man of La Mancha |
![]() |
![]() |
#6 |
Etheral Enchantress
|
![]()
Izrênna looked up in surprise as Ælfritha came in. She abandoned her ale in the hopes of getting to her new friends, Menelduliniel and Estelarion. These travelers would certainly be good members to have on this quest. They seemed to be used to traveling.
Izrênna tried, to no avail, to push through the bustling group towards Menelduliniel and Estelarion. She looked around quickly, and slid out of the crowd. She gave up the quest to find her friends and stood aside, trying to think of what to do. Her father would throw a fit if he knew what she was about to do. She was so small, he always said, that she could do nothing to aid those of strength. She looked around the busy room, her brow furrowed in thought. She finally took a breath and pushed through the crowds to the bar. She hefted up her very light pack and then put her bow and quiver on her back. Even if she was not much good if they were going to have to fight at close range, she could pick off the thieves from afar maybe. And someone else could share her horse. She found her way to Ælfritha. "I will aid you," she said, "And someone else can ride my horse with me of you need extra mounts." Before Ælfritha replied, Izrênna quickly slipped out of the Inn and snuck in the shadows to the stable. She knew that her size would make her fairly undesirable for this quest, and did not want to give anyone a chance to refuse her. If they did refuse her, she would follow anyway. She was very careful on the way to the stables, in case any danger was present in this area. She slipped in and hefted the heavy saddle onto the grey horse. She fastened his bridle and led the willing horse to the front of the Inn to wait for the others. She thanked the stars that this horse was willing, for others she had been given to ride on errands had not been, and she had been forced, in the past, to return and ask for another, as she could not control strong-minded horses. She held the horse's bridle and stood on the ground, quietly waiting for the others to be ready. She eyed the saddle, and was satisfied that it was large enough for more than just herself... [ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]
__________________
"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 |
![]() |
![]() |
#7 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
Word spread fast and as dawn approached, a posse was made ready. The White Horse, as became most inns, was one of the centres of the community, and was prepared for swift action. Horses for all the pursuers were brought forth, weapons at the ready as well.
Old Fróma made sure everyone had a warm breakfast under their belly, for the dark night sky meant that tracking must wait for dawn. Sausages, coffee, breads, preserves--he insisted that everyone ate, for to leave hungry would be foolhardy, and the Rohirrim were no fools. Bethberry noted that Malienna, Ælfritha and Anglachel and the others were swift in arranging their affairs. She turned to Deorlin, though, in his distress. "Deorlin, if you will trust me, tell me your message for the Golden Hall, and I will see it is safely delivered, both promtly and discreetly as well. You are needed here, for while the Merchant may well know the roads beyond our borders, you will be needed as the official of Edoras, for the laws and rules of Rohan must be represented as well as upheld." ========== Meanwhile, Ælfritha made ready for departure. She took her leave of Heórrend with grim feelings, happy at least that he was out of danger. She thanked Eomund for his horses and choose Nithal, a bay who looked strong enough to be able to endure a hard gallop of an hour or two at a time. Saddle bags, pack, blankets, a tack kit, all were saddled up. A sheepskin coat was all the mail she wore, and no weapons save the knives she used in the care of horses. Her whip as well, which she was prepared to use upon the thieves although no horse's back had ever known it. And for the first time in her life, she welcomed spurs upon her boots. She waited the greasy first light of day, the anxiety in her stomach snapping like the jaws of a wolf who paces around sniffing for the trail. ========= Airerûthiel's first post Maikadurion listened intently at this talk of stolen horses. He knew that such treachery was frowned upon intensely in Rohan, and that to have a horse stolen in the land of the horse-lords was like parting a mother from her babe. Despite the comfortable routine he had got himself into working at the inn of the White Horse, in his heart he still yearned to break his vow and seek adventure in Middle-earth once more. Then suddenly his thoughts leapt outside to the stable. "Formenelen," he whispered, and his heartbeat quickened, pounding in his ears like raindrops onto a roof of Edoras during a downpour. If his mother's horse had been taken...no, it would be too great a blow to his memory. The image of her pale face with its long hair as golden as oak leaves in autumn and the ice-blue eyes as cold as the first spring morn had all but faded from the memory of nine years, when he saw her lying in state in the Great Hall of his uncle. As the throng of people poured forward from the door of the inn like a river in flood, he slipped in among them as silently and quickly as a shadow or a breath of wind, noticed by none, and made his way across the cobbled courtyard to the stables. The half-Elf quieted the horses in Rohirric and the tongue of his Elven kin, and they were still - he had possessed the gift prized so highly by Men of the Riddermark for as long as he could remember. Going through each one of the remaining beautiful beasts, whose eyes had grown in their heads to twice their size and were immersed in a liquid trauma that gazed out pleadingly at him, Maikadurion reached the stall of the North Star. He closed his eyes as his delicate fingers ran themselves over the engraved brass plate on the stall door, and then slowly opened them as he stood up, already knowing what it was he would find there. It was as empty as a tombstone that waits with yawning open mouth, hungry for its eternal meal of a coffin and a life. "Then I know what I must do," he said to himself in a saddened and sombre tone, his feet as heavy as the helm with the treacherous path laid before them. "I have no choice but to leave, to return to my old life...to go back to what appears to be my destiny." He walked back into the inn alongside the stragglers who offered only provisions to the troupe of riders, and then walked towards the bar. "Drink this, my friend." Maikadurion glanced up to see Bethberry's kindly face as she took in his own expression. "I am surprised you are not on this side of the bar; after all, you seemed more content there than you do when we are divided by this wooden barricade." "Good lady Bethberry, I have a boon to ask of you," said Maikadurion, opening his mouth to continue with his request. But he got no further; the innkeeper's sorrowful half-smile told him all he needed to know. "You were not destined for the simple life, my friend," she replied. "Although for a short time you were content to work for your living, I see that in your heart your desire is to taste adventure all your days in Middle-earth. And maybe one day our paths will cross again. Go now, and fulfil your desires." Maikadurion kept a pack behind the bar, filled with everything he would need should he choose to leave Edoras for the unknown, and he gratefully took this now from Bethberry. "You have been good to me, and I owe you a great debt. I leave you with my promise that one day I will return to the White Horse." "And I shall hold your faith to that promise," replied the innkeeper. "You are strong and brave, and you leave this place with honour, having proved your worth. Go now; without horses to spare and your own mount taken, it will be a long journey on foot, even for the son of Elves and Men." ============ Gryphon Hall's first post It has been a tiring but deeply satisfying few months for the dwarf Corrin. Up and down Dunland, and through the homesteads of Rohan, now enjoying some warm ale and good pipeweed in the White Horse. And such good ale as he hadn't had in a long time, served by such a nice innkeeper, too. Being in the middle of Edoras, he didn't even feel the need to wear his armor; just normal clothes tonight, thank you very much. Aaaaah, yes, the wonderful fact of having sold almost all his wares and enjoying the profits. Nothing can spoil this, thought Corrin. A woman suddenly burst in and she was obviously distressed. 'Good people of Rohan and guests of the Mark,' she began, 'we are abused and assaulted within our very gates. Our horses have been stolen, four of them mine, those of others as well. One of our own has been wounded. Who will join me in pursuit to recover the horses?' Oh, bother! thought Corrin, And it was turning out to be such a pleasant night, too. He turned to a gaping lad seated beside him, and said, '`Tis a bad thing to steal any of the horses of Rohirrim, you know.' The lad turned toward him and looked even more surprised. Corrin paid no heed, but added, 'Yes, awful bad thing. Might as well steal one of their women or babies, it doesn't matter.' As he said this thing about women and babies, he thought of his own wife and children, and began to feel hot. 'The Horse-lords will go after 'em like nothing and make 'em pay,' he said, beginning to feel really riled up. 'Maybe,' Corrin added, 'maybe I go with them and test this out.' He was fingering his axe, then looked at the lad he was talking to, but he was gone. He looked around, making sure that the silly kid didn't just sneak away, but the lad, well, what he thought was a lad was really nowhere in sight. 'Corrin, my boy,' said the dwarf to himself, '`tis a shame that you can no longer hold your liquor, talking to thin air like that.' The initial vengeful reaction gone, he greedily gulped his ale. 'But where's the fun if such good drink doesn't make you imagine stuff awhiles.' He raised his tankard to Bethberry, who smiled back. By now, others were volunteering to go after the horse thieves and there was a general uproar. Some of the customers were suddenly leaving for the stables, probably to see if at least their horses were spared and left behind. Corrin sighed. 'I guess I can go on one free adventure,' he muttered softly to himself. 'Darrin is still on business and Dáie thinks I shall be returning by spring.' Quickly counting and estimating, he decided to go along with the posse. 'They will need a stout dwarf. Yes, they will.' Basking in his own heroism, and all the ale beginning to go to his head, he went up to his room without informing Bethberry or anyone that he was going. By the time he lay in bed, he had forgotten about the horses and the muster of the posse. And he snored loudly, too, as only a dwarf can. The next day, the sun was just about to rise, the posse that left some time before had already followed the trail, and Corrin the dwarf suddenly woke up with a start. He was feeling that he needed to do something important, very important, but he can't remember what. 'Breakfast!' he roared. 'I shall remember when I've had my breakfast.' As was his custom, he started preparing as if to leave. He wore his metal hose, his hauberk, his greaves, but not his helmet. All bundles neatly packed, ready to be heaved on his back, but in the meantime left in his room. He was beginning to feel good again and had forgotten about the posse. 'Tra-la-la-la-la,' he sang on his way down, oblivious to the others who may be sleeping. Hmmmmm... wait a minute, some of the doors are open. The dining area was, understandably, quiet and almost empty of people, save Bethberry. She seems to have had quite a night, he thought. Looks like she hasn't slept a wink. 'Aaahh! My good innkeeper! Have you got any vittles for a hungry dwarf?' He suddenly felt the nagging doubt in his mind again, that something very important to do. Corrin was suddenly quiet and thoughtful as he went back to the exact same seat he was in the night before. Bethberry quickly brought some food over, as well as ale; too quickly, it seems. The food usually took time to cook. This was still warm. Corrin looked up and instinctly raised his tankard. Bethberry smiled back. He looked to where the gaping lad sat the night before. And suddenly it all memory of the night before hit him so hard that he actually fell out of his chair. 'Foolish dwarf! There is no time for dilly-dallying!' He motioned to Bethberry, and roared, 'Ho! Inkeeper! Some provisions, if you please, for a week or two of hot pursuit.' Corrin's voice was shrill with dismay and hurry; he hated being left behind for any reason. 'Weapons! I need my weapons!' He ran back up and rummaged through his pack, taking one two-handed battle-axe, two smaller throwing axes, and finally his short broad sword and buckler shield. Having these, he ran out of the door. And then ran back in. 'Of all the bother in this world!' he exclaimed as he shoved his helm on. He ran down the steps, and then fell down the rest of the way. He rolled back into a standing position and then faced Bethberry, whose hands were on her hips. 'Please, tell me where they went! I can catch up with them, dwarves need no sleep and I, we, can march day and night!' He took a step closer, his voice urgent and pleading. 'They will have to rest soon; I can catch up with them! I can! Please, tell me where they went and let me go, too.' [ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#8 |
Haunting Spirit
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Somewhere
Posts: 67
![]() |
![]()
Sadiya shrugged the tattered buckskin further up her shoulder, rubbing her hands together for warmth. In front of her, on the close cropped grass lay a tightly woven wicker basket. She down and cradled the basket gently, staring at the small, soft face inside. The child had been given a draught of herbs only hours before to give her sleep, lest one of the straw-heads of Edoras here the cries of a child outside the city walls. She tucked another soft rag around the child's head to supplement the lining of rabbit fur. It was a cold night, but a fire would have been impractical, given the circumstances.
The woman knew that the band faced a long night and morning, and they would travel hard to put distance between them and the straw-heads. The only regret she had was for her child, for she had been raised as a nomad, and was used to traveling many hours without food, fire, or rest. The infant, sighing in her sleep, reached out and tugged at the end of her mother's braid. As Sadiya tucked her daughter's arm back into the warmth of the basket, the great gate groaned ever so faintly. She turned to see the group and stood, strapping the small cradle onto her back. She helped coax the gate gently open. As the men, Rhana, and the horses filtered from Edoras, her husband took her elbow and steered her away from the others. "I hope the brat didn't cry?" He shook her hard as he spoke. "No, she didn't wake at all!" Sadiya whispered furvently. Her throat pained her as she spoke. The man eyed her critically, but let go of her arm. As the group of horse thieves left Edoras, she trailed nervously and cautiously behind her husband. She had learned by now that any wrong action or word would result in a slap in the face or a cuff around the ear. She lowered her head and felt his gaze pierce her neck. Before her, her breath was tinged milk white in the frost touched air. [ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Sadbh ]
__________________
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we take the Standerdized Tests. |
![]() |
![]() |
#9 |
Summoner of Lost Souls
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: At home, with my Strongbow
Posts: 521
![]() |
![]()
Rhana eased the horses as they were gathered outside the great gate. She noticed the way Gormel looked at her and sent him a withering look. Just go ahead and try, you creep, she thought and placed her hand on her knife, letting him know she wasn't afraid to use it.
He just grinned at her or at least so it seemed. She wasn't sure whether the grimace on his ugly face could be considered close to a smile or not. One of the men grabbed the woman, Sadiya, by the arm and dragged her away with him. He seemed to be upset about something. Rhana couldn't hide a smirk. How could anyone be so foolish as to bring a child with them, on a possibly dangerous mission such as this? This was no place for an infant. The familiar sound of a flask being opened, reached her ears and she turned to see one of the men drinking greedily. A hint of a smile appeared on her face and she quickly stepped next to him and snapped the flask from him and drank, feeling the brew spread it's warmth through her blood. She ducked swiftly as the tall man tried to slap her and she laughed at him mockingly as she returned the flask to him. Gormel made sign for them to be quiet and get ready to leave. They had to be far away before daybreak, since it wouldn't be long before someone would discover what had happened. Once on the move, Rhana slipped closely to Sadiya. "You better make sure to keep that thing quiet!" She nodded toward the child. "Otherwise, I'll do it!" she said while fingering her knife, making sure the woman understood what she meant. [ January 01, 2003: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]
__________________
-"Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave. Our birth is nothing but our death begun." |
![]() |
![]() |
#10 |
Haunting Spirit
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Somewhere
Posts: 67
![]() |
![]()
Sadbh's brow furrowed in contempt, but she kept a scowl from her face. "For an outsider, you have extreme audacity to acost me with half-hearted threats." She slipped forward closer to her husband in a way so that no part of herself or her child were open directly to the long knife Rhana had touched.
Utha was looking intently forward, leading one of the large,toned mounts from Rohan. Its placidity far surpassed that of anyone else's, beast or human, and she instantly admired the animal. A tentative hand reached out to stroke the withers of the horse, but with a large, calloused hand her husband roughly pushed her away from the animal. His scowl was perturbed to say the least and his comment was cold and curt. "Silly girl, don't touch it, you'll spook it." Well, if it lets you lead it... her thought trailed off and she looked away. Snorting, she shook her head. That was as far as any of her retorts got- thoughts. She felt a stirring in the cradle on her back. While her husband watched her bitterly, she shifted the woven device so that she could see inside. Her daughter had squirmed, but not waken. Less confidently than she felt, she fixed the cradle back on her back. "She better not wake before we get a good mile outside of the city." Utha barely looked at his wife as he spoke, and instead directed his attention to catching a hip flask that one of his chums had thrown him. Sadiya shook her head, but agreed inwardly that it was best he drink. At least it pacified him. [ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Sadbh ]
__________________
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we take the Standerdized Tests. |
![]() |
![]() |
#11 |
Shadow of Starlight
|
![]()
Kane watched Rhana threaten Sadiya and as the other woman walked away saw Sadiya slump and place herself behind her husband. The young man didnt look away in time and the huge man glared at him. Kane held his gaze solidly until the brutal easterling growled like an animal and pulled Sadiya to the other side of him, obscuring Kane's view. He looked away angrily then heard Utha speak to his wife again. "Silly girl, don't touch it, you'll spook it."
He speaks to her like a child! Well, like he'd speak to any child; brusque, harsh and firm. Kane turned his attention to the horses. Rhana still led them, murmering quietly to pacify them. She was friendly to the horses than she was to Sadiya! He knew she could hold her own though. Running a hand over a long scar across his forearm, he remembered when she had give it to him, accompanied with a series of threats and curses and almost smiled; all he'd done was brush past her. He'd apologised with a flask of strong drink though, and so a sort of compromise was made between them. Making his way to her side, he placed a hand on the muzzle of one of the horses she led, feeling the skittish beasts silky warm fur under his dark hand. Rhana glanced at him as she stroked the noble beast and smiled slightly. He returned the favour before it faded and he noticed without surprise yet another bruise high on her cheek. Touching his own he looked questioningly at her. The woman snorted. "That oaf Gormel. Idiot." She grinned, a rare sight and Kane grinned back. Their dislike of their leader was one thing at least that they shared. Behind them Sadiys baby stirred, moaning softly and Kane looked around sharply, hoping no one else had heard. Rhana also looked back though, and once again her hand found the long knife. Kane glared at her, a looked which she returned but dropped her hand. The young man just hoped Sadiya's baby would keep quiet...
__________________
I am what I was, a harmless little devil |
![]() |
![]() |
#12 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: somewhere out there
Posts: 29
![]() |
![]()
Deorlin drew a deep breath and considered Bethberry's offer. Yes, there was great urgency to make this report to Theoden, especially in light of this unprecedented raid right into the heart of Rohan. The audacity of the horse theives spoke volumes for the perceived weakness of Theoden's rule, and the growing strength of the enemies at their borders. But it would be impossible to relay all that he had learned, and surmised, over the last few months to a messenger to carry to the king.
"The only message I can give for the moment," he said through gritted teeth,"is for our king to look well to his borders and prepare for war, for it is coming. Throughout Middle Earth, all free peoples are doing the same, and the storm, when it breaks, will hit hardest those closest to Mordor." Bethberry's face was equally grim as she listened to Deorlin's brief message. "I'll see that the king is informed, and that you will make a full report when you return - which I hope will be very shortly." she said, the look in her eye bespeaking her thoughts about how the theives would be dealt with once the posse caught up with them. Deorlin had little stomach for food, but managed to swallow a good amount of that set before him, knowing that it might be some time before they would break their pursuit to eat again. Although tall and muscular, the young Rohirrim had trained himself not to be too concerned about where and when he ate. But he knew the wisdom of filling his belly when he had the chance. As soon as he had gulped down his share, he went outside to look over the several horses which had been brought into the stable yard, loans from those who wished to help but could not be part of the posse themselves. All the proffered mounts were excellent horses, but Deorlin's eye was drawn to a big boned chestnut gelding. He had a rough head, but a bright, bold eye, and a good broad chest, a sign of endurance. Willing himself to be calm, he walked quietly to the gelding's side, extending his hand to stroke its neck. "What's this one's name?" Deorlin vaguely recognised the middle aged man holding the reins of the bridle. "Why, 'tis Deorlin, Deorwine's son, is it not? Do you remember me, master? Aeric, I'm called. I was in service to your father's friend, Ceorl, also of the Westfold. But now I'm here in Edoras, with Ceorl's son. Tis he who sent this one, and a finer mount you couldn't find in all of Rohan, save for the mearas." The man chuckled. "Sami, that's his name. For fire is his coat, and so's his spirit. He'll carry you to the ends of the earth, if you ask him too. Not that it will take so long to catch up with those slinking thieves. I hope you'll put that sword of yours to good use when you do find them." The smile had run away from Aeric's face. "Yes, took my own horse, Frey." The tone of Deorlin's voice left no doubt of how he intended to dole out justice to the thieves. "Sami, a good name!" Deorlin grinned once more, the thought of pursuit and a good fight at the end not unwelcome at all to the warrior. "I'll take good care of him. Tell your master many thanks for his use. We'll be back soon." There was an emphasis on the last word. Taking the reins, he led Sami to the front of the inn to await the others in the posse. He nodded his head slightly to a petite woman holding onto the reins of a placid grey horse. Was she intending to come with them? He snorted slightly through his nose - how could one so small be of use when they caught up with the theives and it came time to fight? Perhaps she was just holding the horse for another, hopefully someone pretty large from the looks of the saddle on the horse's back. He turned to seeing to his own tack, making sure all was secure and well fitting, while he waited for Aelfritha and the others. [ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ] [ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ] [ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ]
__________________
"Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds" |
![]() |
![]() |
#13 |
Etheral Enchantress
|
![]()
Izrênna looked at the man as he left. He snorted. Was he snorting at her? Most likely yes, he was.
She rolled her eyes. Well, it seemed he was preparing to leave, so she may as well make his acquaintence. She sighed and led the grey horse over back towards where the big man was. She flung the reins up over the horse's head and touched his nose, hoping that he would stay there, where she left him. She saw the man look at her in surprise as she approached. She smiled and extended her hand, hoping that she would change his opinion of her. "'ello," she said, trying to sound at least a bit bigger than she was. She extended her hand and he looked at it. She drew it back. "Yes?" he said, coldly. Izrênna stepped back and thought to herself for a second. This was obviously not a good time. She stepped back and returned to her horse, who was still waiting. She wondered what this man's problem was with her. She knew she was small, but most people were fairly accepting of it. She sighed and petted the horse, whispering to it. Horses did not care if you were under five-feet five-inches. She kissed the horse, then went back to waiting for the others to arrive...
__________________
"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 |
![]() |
![]() |
#14 |
Maiden of Tears
|
![]()
Malienna was outside, with her horse Naroch. She stroked his dark brown mane, before bending down to check the horse’s feet, and then checking the saddle and reins were on properly. She was cautious to trust stableboys with her horse, in days like these.
She joined the small group gathering outside the Inn, noticing in particular a small woman, whom she had heard was named Izrenna. She was perhaps small for such a journey, but Malienna thought little of it. She could be useful with a sword, and that was what mattered. Perhaps she would be useful for scouting ahead, before they attacked. She walked over to speak to her, leading her horse beside her. “You are coming on this journey as well, then?” smiled Malienna.
__________________
'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
![]() |
![]() |
#15 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
Helkahothion's first post:
Hading was standing on guard in front of the Meduseld when the dispatch arrived. However, he was surprised to see that it was not Deorlin, but somebody else who approached. "Halt! What business do you have here?" he asked firmly with a commanding voice, while he held out his spear in front of the dispatch. "I have a message from Deorlin for the King and a request on a matter that will concern him,? the dispatch said. Because she apparently knew Deorlin, he gave her some trust. He asked her for the message and inspected it. As he inspected it carefully, he saw that the message had not been opened. The dispatch seemed in a hurry to get inside, but Hading was not completly sure it was safe to let her in. His green eyes searched the woman carefully for any weapons. She was standing inpatiently and waited till the man was finished. She knew that she could not get past this tall man by force, so she just watched his beautifull armor until he was done. She noticed that it had a white horse, but not made out of silver. It was a metal she could not describe and she had never saw this before, exept with the other guards. Finaly the man spoke. He wiped the brown hair out of his face and said. "You may enter, but as custom's go you must leave your weapons here. I give you my trust and do not break it, for then you will not leave the Halls of King Theodon alive." The dispatch was clearly relieved and gave the only weapon she had: a nicely crafted knife. Hading hoped he did the right thing, but he had to stop being concerned and do his duty. "The palace guards will take care of the King," he thought. Hading was still standing on guard when he heard the King's loud voice. "No", the King cried, "this can't be happening. How dare they!" Hading, who feared that his decision was a wrong one, drew his sword and rushed inside. He feared for the worst, but no harm had been done to the King and the dispatch was standing next to him. Relieved that the King was unharmed, he turned to take up his post again. However, when he turned around, the King called him back. "Hading, you are a loyal servant, but a little bit too hasty in your judgement. This maiden here has toed me something of great importance. It appears that a band of thieves has stolen horses at the White Horse inn. Deorlin's horse has been stolen as well. As the King of Rohan I can not tolerate this. You will ride to that place and help the victims of this raid in their pursuit to recover the horses,? Theodon said. Hading accepted and, together with the dispatch, went to the inn with two horses. When he arrived everybody was in an uproar. People were running here and there with weapons, supplies and other things. He went to Ælfritha and explained his business. ?My fair lady, I have come to offer the services of the king. With me I have two Horses and I myself offer you my spear. Would you accept me and my company of horses?? Hading asked. Hading was sweating from the long ride and his green cape that he was wearing over his white armor wasn't comfortable at all. He drew his sword and kneeled down offering it to Ælfritha. In his other hand he held his spear. "My spear, sword, and bow are your's to command. Will you accept them?" he asked. "Of course," replied the anxious horsewoman. "None here would think of refusing the King's aid." =================== [ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#16 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
Air as sharp on the lungs as pin pricks greeted the pursuers as they headed out the gate, watched by a grimly-faced crowd, and into the Barrowfield, through the barrows of the kings. No one was easy knowing that thieves had entered into the very heart of their city; nor were any calm in the knowledge that these riders would return with the stolen horses. Yet the theft could not go unchallenged.
Deorlin and Hading, the two Riders of the Mark to accompany the group, had compiled what news was available from those who had any inkling of what had happened. Some said it was Easterlings; others, Dunlendings; still others claimed they saw their own people sneaking out the gate. All they knew was that one man lay dead and his family in mourning, ten horses were gone, and strangely scuffed tracks wended out and down the hills towards the east. It would take good, strong eyes to see if the thieves had dared to take the Great West Road, or if they headed north towards great Fangorn Forest or east along the River Snowbourne. Six rode out. Deorlin led the group, with Anglachel at his side, for the Merchant knew the roads and trails beyond Rohan better than any. They were followed by Ælfritha on Nithal with Doric as a pack horse. Malienna and Izrênna paced either side of Ælfritha, for the three women, near in age, had struck up a quiet conversation while they waited for the dawn to rise, although Ælfritha noted some slight tension between Izrênna and Deorlin. None smiled nor joked. Hading, the youngest Rider, took up the rear. Six people, eight horses, to recover ten lost. Once past the gate, they began to ride in earnest, yet not hard, until they could determine for sure where to follow. Finally, Deolin called out, "The Trail! The trail leads east. To the River Snowbourne." As if all with one accord, the riders moved at once into a fast gallop.
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#17 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: Arizona
Posts: 40
![]() |
![]()
It was just an hour before sunrise, with the light of the moon and stars quickly waning, when Deorlin spotted the trail of the perpetrators. Though not a tracker, Anglachel had seen enough tracks in his days to see the thieves were clearly trying to cover their trail. Fortunately for the pursuers, the comings and goings of ten horses are not easily masked.
“Well spotted Deorlin,” complimented Anglachel. His breath was plain to see in the intensely cold air, but the adrenaline of the newly begun chase was still serving to keep the chill at bay. The thought of the roaring fire and a frothy pint of ale at the White Horse was far from his mind as he hastily put together the few known pieces of the current puzzle. “We now at least know a bit more about these thieves,” he theorized to the group. “If they took the time to disguise their tracks then they must legitimately be heading east. One must assume then that they are in fact Easterlings, but why they would travel such a long distance to risk stealing horses from Edoras itself is still a mystery that must be unraveled. Perhaps there will be some clues to be found for this riddle now that we have discovered the right path to take.” [ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Anglachel ] |
![]() |
![]() |
#18 |
Maiden of Tears
|
![]()
The sun rose as the group set off on their quest. Malienna watched the glowing sun rise in the sky, almost as a beacon of hope. She was riding next to Izrenna and Aelfritha, whom she had already spoken to.
The weather was chilly, and the frostiness crept into Malienna’s bones, despite the warm breakfast she had eaten not long before. Silent, she wrapped her cloak tighter about her body, and looked around. She peered ahead, looking for any sign of riders on the horizon. The keen elven eyesight would have been a blessing right now. All that remained of the horse thieves were heavy footprints and light hoof marks in the cold earth. They followed the marked dirt path, in search of battle and victory.
__________________
'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
![]() |
![]() |
#19 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: somewhere out there
Posts: 29
![]() |
![]()
Deorlin's thoughts turned in his mind as the party headed east. He was not a seasoned tracker, but what he saw had told him it was a relatively small band of humans that they were following. He admitted, at least to himself, that he was relieved the thieves were not orcs. He had not yet had the 'pleasure' of doing battle with the foul creatures, but he had heard enough tales to know they were no child's play.
The equally small size of the posse concerned him, but at least there was Hading, another rider of the Mark, whom he knew well enough to appreciate his good fighting arm. And the merchant Anglachel seemed knowledgeable enough about the area that perhaps they would be able to use the element of surprise on their side. Through questioning various witnesses around the inn and the city gate, it appeared the thieves had departed Edoras sometime around two hours before the cock's crow. They had a lead on Aelfritha's group, but not so much as to make overtaking them, perhaps by next daybreak, imposibble. Deorlin considered the other members of the group. He had been a little rude back at the inn to the one woman, Izrenna she was called, now mounted on the grey and riding with Aelfritha and the other, Malienna. He still questioned whether her presence would be a help or a hindrance to their mission. She seemed hardly big enough to even pick up one of the heavy, double edged swords that the Rohirrim used, let alone wield it as a weapon. Well, soon enough, time would tell. Deorlin glanced back over his shoulder. The three women were deep in conversation, Izrenna wearing a studied look of concern. She happened to glance up and catch Deorlin looking at her. The expression that crossed her face was one of mingled friendliness and wariness. His in return was a stern grimace. He turned to Anglachel and said "If I recall rightly, there is a ford across the river some ten leagues or so hence. Think you the theives will make for that, or continue on along the northern bank? I know of a way to cut off several leagues from our path, if we knew for certain that was the way they would take. If we travelled fast enough, we could even make it to the ford before them. But, if they choose another route, or turn off north somewhere, we'll lose them." Deorlin watched Anglachel's face as the merchant mulled over his suggestion. [ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ]
__________________
"Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds" |
![]() |
![]() |
#20 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: Arizona
Posts: 40
![]() |
![]()
“The thieves likely intend to follow the Snowbourne to the Entwash,” answered Anglachel. “It is the fastest way east without using the Great West Road, which they must avoid if they plan on traveling in stealth.”
“Your question has been in my mind as well Deorlin,” he continued, “but we must continue to assume that the thieves are Easterlings which is what all the clues tell us. In that case, cutting northwards at any point would take them too far from their chosen path. No, I believe they must cross the Snowbourne at some point. If you say the closest ford is ten leagues from here, then that is where they must be heading. Let us make haste to this shortcut of yours and see if we can end this pursuit before the day is up.” Deorlin nodded in approval and quickly turned his mount from the trail. “Yah!” he yelled and sped off towards the ford, followed closely by the others. The chase had begun in earnest. |
![]() |
![]() |
#21 |
Shadow of Starlight
|
![]()
"Which way are we heading?" Rhana asked after a while. Kane snorted. "Well, you know; our fearless leader didnt want to tell anyone in case they knew a different way, in which case they could argue. I reckon we'll be crossing the Snowbourne. We're close to a ford."
"Crossing it? On foot, and expecting not to be caught?" Now Rhana snorted. Kane nodded. "Exactly. However, Im not going to say anything - Gormel isnt too keen on me on the best of times." At that moment the group stopped. Gormel was talking heatedly to Sadiya's husband, who it seemed had gone overboard even for himself with the drink, and hands were on swords. Kane smiled slightly; he certainly wouldnt miss Utha, and he somehow doubted Sadiya would either. Utha turned then and, seeing Kanes smile, stormed towards him, swinging his arm at the young man. Kane only just ducked, feeling the breeze past his face and his sword was out in a flash, its owners eyes narrowed. "You have a problem, friend?" The last word was mocking and Utha narrowed his eyes. Gormel saw that he was this close to losing two of his thieves and now intervened, slapping Kane, who reeled, putting his hand to his face. He wisely didn’t hit him back, but glared resentfully at Gormel. "Stop!" Gormel bellowed. Out of the corner of his eye Kane saw Sadiya wince at the noise and she placed her hand back onto the wicker basket on her back. Rhana was more forthright though. "Gormel, be quiet!" She sneered. He turned on her and she stood up to him. "Well, whats the point in having her brat drugged and having had the horses hooves bound if youre going to yell like that?" Gormel snorted but said nothing. He couldnt have got out of the city alive without Rhana so he'd let it drop. This time. "What is our route?" Rhana continued. "Snowbourne." He grunted in reply. "We will cross the ford." "On foot, O fearless leader?" Kane sneered and ducked again as one of henchmen, Bhurthnin, took a swing at him. Stepping nimbly away to the side, he continued. "We have some of Rohans finest horses here, and we're going to cross Snowbourne on foot?! Why not use the beasts?” Gormel growled again and considered, before he nodded grudgingly. All the easterlings were able to ride bareback, and if they couldnt they would have to learn very fast. As Kane took one though, one of the finest horses, he found a sword at his throat. "Ill have that one, boy." Growled Gormel. The young easterling held his eyes as he quickly slipped one of many small daggers from his clothing and held it so it pricked the older mans stomach. After a moment of silence, Gormel resheathed his sword and turned to the rest. "We will ride. I intend to be joining of the two rivers as soon as possible. Harm the horses and Ill do alot more harm to you." Kane swung himself onto the horses bare back beside Rhana and they set off, with Gormel leading. [ January 02, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]
__________________
I am what I was, a harmless little devil |
![]() |
![]() |
#22 |
Haunting Spirit
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Somewhere
Posts: 67
![]() |
![]()
Sadiya was hoisted up roughly from behind, and was seated immediately before the withers of the dun. She felt Utha swing up behind her and saw his arms grasp the long dark locks of the stallion's mane. "Move the basket." His voice was slurrish and annoyed, but no difference. It was either that, or harsh and patronizing. She readjusted the child until it faced to her front. Utha yanked on one handful of plaited mane and spurred the horse towards the banks of the river.
Tongues of biting cold spray lapped at the darkish sand, and where the horses stepped, small pools of murky water gathered in the footprints. One by one each animal was edged into the water. As the dun they rode stepped into the water, a jet of icy water deflected off the animals muscular limb. It hit Sadiya roughly on the cheek, and she was astonished at how cold the water was.The horse edged further into the water, and Utha's lips curled. He swore as the dark water bit at his legs, and Sadiya shivered with the chill. About half way across the river, a very strong current caught the horse's legs. For one split second he lost balance and half rolled. Sadiya's legs instantly tightened around the horse's girth, but the less than sober Utha was too slow. He rolled from the horse and into the current. Sadiya instantly leaned out to reach him, but missed. His hand did, though catch the horse's braided tale. Hardily, he swung angrily onto the animal's back and struck Sadiya's shoulder and cheek bone. "Stupid! Why did you not reach out?" Sadiya cowered to deflect the blows. "I did reach!" She cried. The other thieves were watching, some shaking their heads and others snorting. When they reached the opposite banks, Sadiya was oulled from the horse and shaken, again. Amidst the stream of yelling and curses, she felt her daughter wake up. In a flash, she kicked her husband's shin and struggled to pull away. "You idiot, she's waking." Her hiss was loud enough so only he would hear. He grimaced, but pulled away and rubbed his wet, bleeding shin. He stalked back to the dun. Taking the oppurtunity, Sadiya wipped off the basket and draped a cloth over the hole to keep the rising sun from her child's eyes, to try and keep her asleep. She took pains to do so descreectly, and she hoped no one had noticed. [ January 02, 2003: Message edited by: Sadbh ]
__________________
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we take the Standerdized Tests. |
![]() |
![]() |
#23 |
Summoner of Lost Souls
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: At home, with my Strongbow
Posts: 521
![]() |
![]()
Rhana pulled her fur-coat closer around her, shuddering from the cold. She was less than pleased about crossing the cold water, especially when there was a risk of getting her feet wet but she gritted her teeth and drove the horse into the river.
Something caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see Utha fall from the horse. Disliking the man as she did, she could have wished for nothing better than this to happen and she laughed at him, a hoarse, derisive laughter, which only caused him to anger further. Finally, she reached the opposite shore and was relieved to once again have solid ground under the horse's hooves. Right now she could think of nothing worse than to have joined Utha in the cold water. Sadiya's baby began to whimper and Rhana turned her head abruptly, glaring at the woman with an angry look in her dark eyes and her hand moved toward the knife. A hand was placed firmly on her arm, holding her back. It was Kane. He looked at her, then shook his head. Moving her anger toward him instead, Rhana slapped his hand away. "Get lost! And don't you dare touch me again!" she snarled and rode closer to Gormel though still keeping a safe distance. She knew his reputation and she would have as little as possible to do with him. She looked back toward Utha and Sadiya, seeing that they were moving again. Good, they had a long way ahead of them and no time to waste, unless they wanted to be captured soon. [ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]
__________________
-"Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave. Our birth is nothing but our death begun." |
![]() |
![]() |
#24 |
Etheral Enchantress
|
![]()
Izrênna followed the others, staying towards the back of the group. If it came to fighting, she would need to be farther back in order to get in a good place to fire her arrows, yet to stay out of the way of the stronger, hand-to-hand fighters.
She clutched onto the gentle horse's mane as they moved along after the thieves. She noticed that her horse was smaller than the horses of the others. It was only fitting, she supposed, but, as the horse had shorter legs, it was harder for him to move as quickly as the others. She hoped that this horse had the stamina the former owners had promised her he possessed. This was a fairly new horse, and she had never had the need to race him. At the moment, the horse's grey neck was arched as it moved along after the others. It was a pretty horse for one so small, Izrênna supposed. She strained her eyes and looked to see if there was any sign of the thieves ahead. She quietly reprimanded herself, for the thieves most likely had quite a good start on them. It would take a while to catch such a crowd. And then, when they caught them... Izrênna paused in her flighty thinking. When they found the thieves, what was she to do? She was fine at long range, yes, but the thieves would not stay a good distance away to let her fire at them. This was not going well for her already. That man, she did not know his name, did not trust her. He was strong too. He would be a good one to defend her, were she to have to fire from afar. But, he did not like her. She knew why, as well. No one trusted her for her size. They thought she would be in the way. Well, she would certainly stay out of the way. Whatever happened, she would make sure she did not hinder the others. "Izrênna!" Malienna called over her shoulder. Izrênna jerked herself out of her thoughts, and looked up. She had fallen behind a bit. She bit her lip and dug her heels into the grey horse, who sprung forward with renewed vigor. She flinched a bit as she caught up, and hoped that no one except Malienna had caught her lapse in judgement. There was very little doubt, however, that her lapse of attention had been evident, for Malienna had called fairly loudly. Izrênna looked around. She sighed, as the scenery had not changed much, indicating that she had not lost herself in thought for very long. She gritted her teeth and pushed the horse to go a little faster, so as to remain more towards the middle of the group than towards the back, in the hopes of not falling behind again.
__________________
"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 |
![]() |
![]() |
#25 |
Wight
|
![]()
"But..."
"So it's decided, Ulfeg, you will meet up with our thieves and escort them here. Wait for them by the ford at the Snowborne and give them this letter, the leader will recognize the emblem," a large personal guard walked up and gave him a scroll with a primitive looking seal on it. "They won't be there for a few more days, I suggest you hurry." Ulfeg, a short, swallow man, stood infront of three other men, two fairly large at either side of one lankier man, tall and dark who was sitting at a table. Ulfeg looked nothing like this more regal man, the Easterling was dirty and uncared for from miles of travel, his unkept sword, rusting a bit at the hilt, hung loosely from his side, skirting the ground. His boots and lower grey cloak caked with mud, as well as his tunic being stained from various things. "You realize my compensation will have to match my expenses travelling that far east?" Ufleg asked, though in a more demanding sort of way, spitting off to the side. The tall man nodded. "Oh and Ulfeg, do be sure they are unspoiled mind you," the tall man added as the Easterling began to leave. Ulfeg snorted and turned from the meeting hall. "Spoiled! If anything is spoiled it's him!" he said underneath his breath as he walked out the doors and to the stables around the right. "So it's come to this, Ulfeg the Great, errand-boy, looking after savages as if they were children! Grashk!" Ulfeg cursed. It was warm, and thick, as Ulfeg made his way east out of the town. The air was moist with the recent rains and the ground was soft with new mud. Ulfeg's horse was finding it a bit hard to traverse the difficult terrain, but as they rode on to higher ground the grass became much more full and easy to ride upon. Off in the distance he caught a glimpse of the lower end of the Misty Mountains to the right and the seemingly endless wall of the White Mountains off to his left. In front of him was a wide pass that seemed to stretch on forever, "Perhaps I'm too old for this," Ulfeg thought to himself, as he pumped his cramped, arthritic fingers. It was four days hard ride to the Snowborne. [ January 16, 2003: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ] |
![]() |
![]() |
#26 |
Maiden of Tears
|
![]()
Malienna riding ahead with Aelfritha, failed to notice Izrenna fall behind at first. When turning to speak to her, she saw no one, and then saw Izrenna a little behind the group.
“Izrenna!” she called out. She saw Izrenna look up and flush slightly, and Malienna felt a slight pang of guilt. It was, after all, not Izrenna’s fault about her size, and perhaps she had called out a little too loudly. She shrugged briefly, discretion was not one of her virtues. Still, the woman should not have come along in the first place, if she was unable to keep up with the rest. She would only be a hindrance, not a help. Malienna kept these thoughts to herself, more tension would never do. Deorlin appeared to have no love for the woman himself, but the quest was to rescue the horses. Not to engage in petty squabbles, while these thieving Easterlings got away with their animals. Malienna spurred Naroch on, until she was nearer the front of the group. She was ready for battle. Perhaps Izrenna would be a less able fighter, but she would show a woman was equally capable of fighting, if that was also what Deorlin was angry about. Taking Deorlin’s shortcut, they rode on for some hours, before Malienna’s heart rose with hope. She laid her hand on her sword. They could see the Fords ahead. Now was the perfect timing to catch up and lessen their lead.
__________________
'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
![]() |
![]() |
#27 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
If Ælfritha had been short-tempered, she would have been cursing by now. Deorlin's short cut had brought the pursuers into the forest rather than around it, their progress now a pitiful, forelorn strawhope.
The horses were contending with torgues and twists of tree roots, gravelled and muddy and water-rutted roads, even diverging paths and routes. They had camped by the Snowbourne for the first night and had risen with dawn, but the forest was swallowing any advantage they had gained in time. Ælritha could barely see Deorlin ahead of her, for he had riden on ahead, wanting to find a direct path. Anglachel had remained with the main group. "At least he knew how to run a tracking group," thought Ælfritha to herself. "Interesting how the skills of the market and trade come out in a different context." Yet she remained frustrated. Precious time was being lost as well as the other riders. Malienna she could hear behind her and Maikadurion, but she had lost track of Izrênna in the last few minutes. And Hading was so far behind that he had not answered calls. Nor was it helpful that the forest was still dark with the haze of night. Suddenly, up ahead, Anglachel called out, his voice echoing around the trees. "There's a glade up ahead. Let's regroup there and wait for the stragglers to arrive." Ælfritha patted her mount, reassuring him, and rode forward, taking care to give Doric more line on the tether which ponied him. Worry sat in her stomach like a heavy meal, weighing her down. If she couldn't recover her horses, it would be a bleak year for her family. [ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#28 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 5,992
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
Estel the Descender's first post
A rider rode up Edoras on his way to Meduseld with disturbing news to Théoden King: Théodred's company had discovered the presence of Easterlings on the east bank of the Entwash. The rider had riden full speed along the road from the Entwade all night and had just arrived dawn. Leaving all his weapons by the doorway, he hurriedly walked up to the dais where the king sat. Théoden seemed to be awake for some time now. The riser bowed low. 'Arise, Béowulf sister-son,' said the king, 'What news from my son?' 'My king,' began Béowulf, 'I regret to inform you of the presence of strangers upon the east bank of Entwash. . .' 'Easterlings?' said Théoden. 'Aye, my liege,' answered Béowulf, 'But how did you know?' 'A bunch of thieves stole horses from the stables of the White Horse ere ye came,' said the king, 'Already a posse has gone in pursuit of the robbers.' 'My liege,' stammered Béowulf, 'I ask leave to overtake the posee so that I may join the chase. I fear that my news hath come too late.' 'It is well, my son,' said Théoden, 'ye have leave. But refresh yourself first ere ye continue on this journey, for I deem that ye have not eaten supper. ............................................. After eating his breakfast, Béowulf rearmed himself and mounted Léod and started to ride down Edoras. He was delayed from going out the gate, however, by a cart which was driven by a dwarf. 'Out-of-the-way-halfling!' shouted Béowulf, 'I am already quite delayed and need no further delaying!' Corrin shuddered with rage and shouted back, 'Halfling?! HALFLING?! You will regret your words, horse-master, but I will not dally with you now, for I too am in a hurry: I have thieves to catch. But once I have caught them, I WILL DEAL WITH YOU, YOU PALE-FACE!' 'Indeed,' retorted Béowulf, 'ever has a dwarf been so-o-o protective of his own property. . .' 'NOT MY OWN, BUT YOURS!' cried the dwarf, 'Horses were stolen from the White Horse where I was a guest and now I am on my way to overtake and aid the posse that was formed to catch the thieves!' Then added Corrin in a whisper, 'Ungrateful whippersnapper. . .' Béowulf's eyes flew wide when he heard this and he answered, 'My apologies, sir dwarf, for speaking rashly. I did not know that you were going out of your way to help us. I too am on my way to join the posse. I know that by mine actions I deserve your scorn, but since we have the same errand, let us travel together now and swiftly ere the thieves and the posse get too far ahead.' 'Well, I suppose that we have to hurry,' answered the dwarf, 'But once we have done with this business, I will deal with you!' 'Fair enough,' said Béowulf, 'Though I already repent my harsh words earlier.' Both rider and dwarf rode out the gates and turned east after passing by the barrows, following the path of the Snowbourne. [ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
__________________
I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away. |
![]() |
![]() |
#29 |
Haunting Spirit
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Middangeard
Posts: 69
![]() |
![]()
The frore season had cast a shroud of gloom upon the two groups alike, almost like a cerement that signalled their impending doom. Discontent was spreading, distrust was brewing, anxiety was strewing.
A perilous quest had proven triumphant in its early execution. The thieves were fleeing from a mortiferous band of riders while the horsemen were making a tenebrous pursuit. The lethal encounter between the groups would be a pardon beyond the thieves could expect for their tortious act, and a canter for the riders on the trail of these mortal foes. An evil so ghastly that their spines would shiver and crack and force them to seek umbrage in the most unlikely of places, was seeking them out. Their only hope lied in matters beyond their minds, matters beyond most men except for the Line of Kings. "I sense a portentous gloom in this fell air," said the Ranger, "must we fear the worst?" "The East is growing hazardous, it does not bode well that our path is leading South. Let us hope beyond hope that other matters busy the Enemy. Free peoples everywhere might yet keep the evil at bay, with their relentless quest for justice. Every resistence will aid the cause of Elves and Men," said the Grey Wizard and as he nudged his horse into a quicker pace, the beast stopped suddenly and let out a short neigh. |
![]() |
![]() |
#30 |
Night In Wight Satin
Join Date: May 2000
Posts: 4,043
![]() |
![]()
The pack of thieves fleeing Edoras was so intent on the icy crossing of the Snowbourne that they never knew a pack of another sort had found them, until it was too late. As Utha cursed and shivered, as Sadiya and her baby suffered, as Gormel grumbled, a noose encircled them, tighter and tighter, until it finally snapped. Kane felt the pressure only as the trap door fell out from beneath them.
For hours, a group of hungry wargs had been waiting on the eastern bank of the river, lying in wait for the horses and men their scouts had alerted them of. After watching them cross the water, they had waited for the perfect moment to spring, the moment which had come as each human turned to the one closest to the river. “Halt!” hissed Kane, ear to the wind. He had heard an unnatural noise and needed silence to pick it up once more. The others did not stop, but turned to stare at the young man. “It’s me that gives order around here,” said Gormel fiercely, “so you’ll keep moving or I’ll…” He did not finish his sentence, but instead looked with wide eyes toward a stand of trees just beyond where Utha and Sadiya rode. “Beware wolves!” he shouted, and drew his sword charging. The drunken Utha slurred in indignation and took a moment to consider what Gormel had said, a moment that cost his life but spared that of his woman and child. Before he had the chance to even turn his head, he was ripped from the saddle by a huge wolf and pulled to the ground. Another beast savaged him as he lay kicking and punching. Sadiya’s wits were about her, though, and by quick action she missed the fate of her husband by spurring her mount forward and then pulling him quickly to the right. Gormel rushed past her to attack the beasts, Kane and Rhana close behind him. The three Easterlings charged into the three wargs, for these were surely no ordinary wolves, that ripped and tore at Utha’s bleeding body. The animals fell back quickly and ran into the trees, but it was then that the trap of the wargs was truly spun. Horses screamed in terror and dismay as another six of the great wolf-beasts appeared from the high grasses nearby and sprang into the stolen horses left unprotected by the rush to save Utha. Seeing Utha dying and a new threat appearing, Gormel, Rhana, and Kane charged to drive the attackers from the prized horses. Sadiya turned to aid her injured husband, but as the warriors left the wounded man to protect their stolen treasure, the three wargs again jumped from the trees, dragging Utha, who no longer struggled, away. Sadiya smartly chose not to follow. The battle that followed was quick. Two of the horses were already dead and another was injured, and the Easterlings rode hard into the wargs to protect it and those that remained alive. Claws and teeth met hand and sword, and blood, fur, and flesh flew, but finally the creatures withdrew, dragging the carcass of one of the dead horses with them. Kane and Rhana were both clawed and scratched, but neither had taken a serious wound. Sadiya remained unharmed with her baby, but Gormel was in bad shape. As the wargs had fled, two of them had turned suddenly and caught Gormel off balance. He had been thrown from his horse and had barely survived, killing one of beasts but taking a terrible wound to the shoulder. As the remaining wargs departed, Gormel lay on the cold ground, his lifeblood streaming out of his wound.
__________________
The Barrow-Wight |
![]() |
![]() |
#31 |
Etheral Enchantress
|
![]()
Izrênna quickly came up to the few people that were waiting in the glade ahead of her.
"There are still some behind me," she said, triumphant that she had not been the last to arrive. She was actually ahead of many others, as she had not let her thoughts get the better of her common sense again. However, she did not get a warm welcome. That man, she still did not know his name, only ignored her. Izrênna patted the grey horse and stayed mounted, waiting for the other to arrive. She shifted the bow on her shoulder and sighed. Izrênna began to smile. She figured that she had to show that the scorn she faced as a member of this group was not effecting her. She shifted in the saddle and waited for the others to catch up...
__________________
"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 |
![]() |
![]() |
#32 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: somewhere out there
Posts: 29
![]() |
![]()
With a mighty effort, Deorlin held in his frustration at missing their chance to catch the thieves at the ford. As the first night had fallen, they had dismounted, discouraged, tired and hungry. Deorlin sensed Aelfritha's disappointment in his choice, and he had little heart to socialize with the others. After gulping down a quick meal of bread and cheese, Deorlin rolled himself in a blanket and slept.
The dawn saw the party already away and into the forest. Here the going was even slower, with some distance to go before reaching the ford. Deorlin urged Sami forward, anxious to get to the river and see if his guess was correct. At least to know that the thieves had made their way here would be some comfort to him, even if his "shortcut" had not availed them of any tactical advantage. Pulling somewhat ahead of the others, he thought little beyond travelling at all speed. Soon, Aelfritha, Anglachel and the others fell behind. Deorlin was barely aware of this, until he came out of the thinning trees. Finally, the ford! The ice rimmed river rushed past. Deorlin dismounted, and although the ground was hard with frost, he saw clearly the tell-tale signes of the Rohirrim horses and the theives as they had made their way into the water. So they had crossed here sure enough. Deorlin remounted and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the others coming up behind. But for the first time, he noticed the silence that hung in the air, save for the sound of the river. Waiting a few more minutes, he realized that, for whatever reason, Aelfritha and the posse must have fallen behind him. He was alone. Deorlin felt no fear - he was sure the thieves were still far ahead. But nonetheless, he flipped back his short riding cloak and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He considered carefully what to do. His incination was to go on, fording the river and then finding the trail of the thieves once more. Barring unforseen circumstances, the posse should be at the ford soon, and would undoubtedly cross over, anticipating that he had done the same. However . . . "unforseen circumstances" might be exactly what was holding up the others now . . . Never one to delay action for thought, Deorlin came to a swift decision.Hading was with the others - he should be able to handle whatever it was that was delaying them. He nudged Sami into the icy water of the river, breaking through the thin ice at it's edge and splashing across. Within moments he had made the crossing and was on the southern shore. He would pick up the trail of the thieves and then wait at the river's edge for the others to catch up to him. Riding through the grass leading back into the trees, Deorlin noted the eery quiet that still pervaded. Even in the cold season, one usually heard the sounds of small animals and birds rustling and chirping in the undergrowth. But here, all was silence. Sami snorted nervously as Deorlin pushed him forward with his knees. The horse threw his head up and down, and sidestepped, reluctant to go further. But Deorlin urged him on. Suddenly, Deorlin felt his blood run cold through his veins. He had been bending over the saddle bow, following the tracks of the stolen horses, when his eye caught the flicker of a movement in the grass about twenty yards ahead. And at the same time, a sickly sweet smell met his nostrils. One that he had encountered before, in the farmyard, and on the battlefield - blood! [ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ] [ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ]
__________________
"Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds" |
![]() |
![]() |
#33 |
Wight
|
![]()
Ulfeg waited anxiously behind a fallen log that stuck out the woods by the river like a stray hair on a nappy head. The wolves were presenting quite a problem for the theives, especially one soul who hadn't the wits to keep them off. "He should've ducked," Ulfeg chuckled to himself.
Just as it seemed the company had fended off the attack, another came, though more fierce and engaging. While the theives left their comrade to defend their horde, Ulfeg caught the initial wargs carrying off their prize, "A pity." Ulfeg stayed hidden as the company of thieves fought off their attackers. But as the wargs retreated, two ran right past the fallen log where Ulfeg was crouching. The beast closest to the Easterling stopped and sniffed the air, turning to Ulfeg. The wind had changed. The warg snarled, dripping saliva from his bloody maw, red from a wound, his eyes black like rotten carrion. Ulfeg started to crawl backwards from the creeping beast, trying to grab for his sword. The rust at his hilt had been a bit more severe then Ulfeg thought as it broke at the touch. Ulfeg threw the hilt at the animal, but it only seemed to flame the fire. As he crawled back closer and closer into the trees behind him, Ulfeg noticed a vine hanging down the his left. The warg charged and Ulfeg grabbed to vine and held it out infront of him. It found its way into the beast mouth and Ulfeg quickly tied up the muzzle, kicking the beast off him. Ulfeg stumbled away and ran back towards the thieves. The warg made quick work of the vine and charged Ulfeg once more, but stopped and ran at the sound of the company yelling. The Easterling slumped down behind the fallen tree once more and sighed deeply. "I am too old for this," Ulfeg said shaking his head. He stood up and found his horse where he left it in the shallows of the woods, dead from a warg attack. "Grashnk," he curse once more. Ulfeg walked out of the trees and over to the company of theives. "Ho there!" he yelled out to the them [ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ] |
![]() |
![]() |
#34 |
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat.....
Posts: 7,779
![]() |
![]()
They moved through the dark like a shadowed mist, driven by the need to hunt – a three night journey from the bramble choked valley of Nan Curunír across the wide plains of The Mark, with only a small winter starved deer to take the edge from their hunger. The sour smell of the two-leggeds held them back from bringing down more prey as they crossed the snow covered grasslands, while the scents of horse and goat made their mouths slaver in anticipation.
Now they had reached the place Men called Entwade, and turned south, travelling once more in darkness. The forest that edged the smaller river as it flowed into the greater waters of the Entwash would give them shelter. They would rest for a span of the sun, hiding themselves from the day’s light. When the great yellow eye hung low on the horizon, and the rim of the world reached up to swallow it, they would cross the Snowbourne. Then, the hunt would begin. ******************************************** Carchmoroth raised his head from his massive paws to sniff the breezes from the south and west. Evening had not yet come. His yellow eyes glinted in the dim, filtered light of the sun beneath the thick bare branches of the trees. His ears swiveled to the southwest, picking up hints of sounds. He stood, and the hair along the back of his neck to his silvered shoulders rose as he growled a low warning. The pack raised their heads from the snowy lairs they had dug for themselves, their senses now on alert. Dûrêl and Dúgoroth trotted to their father’s side. The faint scents of men and horses came to them. Fear, too. And the scent of blood. Now all the pack stood ringed about their leader as the other smell assailed them. Stiff legged, they drew back their lips from their long, yellowed fangs, snarling. ‘Another pack has hunted and has brought down a kill!’ growled Carmoroth. ‘Up, Wolves! Let us not come too late to the feasting.’ Ten wolves, six males, four females, loped under cover of the trees – dark grey wraiths in the forest’s twisty shadows, picking up speed as they trotted west along the northern bank of the Snowbourne. Before them went Carchmoroth, their silver-backed grey Warg leader, and behind them, driving them on at great speed, were two black furred Wargs, nipping at the heels of those who did not keep up the pace. ********************************************* They ran on silent feet along the northern shore of the Snowbourne. Still within the boundaries of the trees, Carchmoroth halted, his head swinging to the south, across the water. A single rider had crossed the river. Motioning Dúgoroth forward, they stood, silent watchers, as the Man and horse stepped from the icy river to the southern shore. The Warg, Dúgoroth, took three of the Wolves and crossed the river downwind of the horse and rider. The encounter was swift and brutal when they reached them. The three wolves positioned themselves at the horse’s head, one before him and one to each side of his range of vision. Just out of striking distance of the horse’s deadly hooves, they harried the steed and drew his and his rider’s attention from the Warg approaching near the left flank. Deorlin slashed at the snarling, leaping wolves, sending one of them flying with a deadly blow. Too late he saw the Warg lunge at the soft underbelly of the horse, his maw closing in on vital organs and ripping them from the horse’s belly in a spray of blood and gore. The horse stumbled and went down, sending Deorlin flying to the ground a number of feet away. Sword drawn, he fought to regain his stance, thinking to strike out at the Wolves which inched toward him. The Warg growled once, and the Wolves retreated. ‘Pull the carcass beneath the trees you two.’ he said in a menacing voice. ‘I will drive the two-legged off. Not enough meat on his bones to bother with a kill.’ The Warg growled loudly at the man, his eyes ablaze with yellowed flames. He feinted in and out, tearing at the man’s legs and driving him back to mid-river, snapping savagely at his sword arm as he could. Oft times the blade bit at him, and he renewed the fury of his attack until the waters of the river pulled the man’s feet from under him, and he slipped away in the icy current. The Warg and the remaining two Wolves followed the scent of their pack and ran swiftly to join them. ********************************************* Carchmoroth and Dûrêl led the remaining seven Wolves toward the scent of fresh kill. They approached the western boundary of the forest, halting again at a signal from the giant Warg. They forded the Snowbourne, swimming strongly to the southern shore, and trotted at full speed toward the southern boundary of the trees. A new scent of fresh prey had come to them with the shifting breezes, and they sought to find it. Now there were seven two-legged creatures they saw and eight horses, skirting the edge of the forest, making their way south and east along the line of trees. ‘We shall make our own feast.’ spoke Carchmoroth to the pack, as he led them downwind of the horses. They flanked the companions of the Mark from the rear and attacked at a run. The horses neighed wildly, their eyes flying wide as the Wolves bore down upon them. The riders were hard pressed by the suddenness of the attack and fought to control their steeds, which panicked and tried to run from the pursuit or reared up perilously to counter the foe. Izrênna drove off one Wolf with her bow as Aelfritha and Malienna strove to control their horses, aiming mighty slashes at the remaining Wolves. The pack animal with them pulled loose from Aelfritha’s control and was driven far under the trees to meet its swift death by two of the Wolves. The two Wargs harassed the other horses, speeding swift as shadows among them, tearing at their flanks as they could, and slashing at the legs of the men and women, even as the weapons of the riders cut them deeply. The Dwarf held his ground strongly against the Wolf which sallied against him. Legs firmly planted in a wide stance, he swung his two handed great axe in a wide and deadly arc. The Wolf gashed the Dwarf’s right arm deeply with an unexpected lunge, then met his death from a well aimed down swing as he retreated to attack again. Béowulf and Hading took Anglachel in hand and formed a fighting circle. The hindquarters of their mounts were nearly touching and their heads and deadly hooves faced out from the center in a deadly formation. Three Wolves circled them, rushing in as they could to nip and slash at the flesh of rider and mount. Hading, his white armor, blazing in the sun, struck down one of the Wolves as it leapt at him - a mortal blow, which dropped the carcass to the unrelenting fury of his mount’s deadly hooves. Béowulf struck another Wolf, disabling the creature’s front leg. He held back his raging steed who sought to follow and strike at the limping Wolf. Dúgoroth and his two Wolves had now joined the fray, and savaged the trio which had wounded one of their pack. Anglachel’s horse shied at the nearness of the Warg. Rolling his eyes in terror, the horse sought to bolt, and Béowulf pushed against the frightened animal with his and reached out to help the merchant steady his mount. It was enough of an opening for the Warg and three remaining Wolves to cut Hading’s mount from the group and drive him beneath the trees. As before, three of the Wolves held the attention of the rearing and striking horse, while the Warg brought him down with a lunge to the soft belly. The Wolves, in the frenzy of their hunting rage, turned their deadly attention to the fallen Hading. He cried out once, a mighty shout from the depths of his fearlessness, and smote a mortal blow with his blade to the nearest Wolf. Then were the other two upon him. His blood ran like a river over the green field of his cape, and never again was his fair voice heard in Rohan. ********************************************* Four Wolves were dead and one was limping on three legs, its bloodied foreleg hanging limp as it retreated from the attack. Carchmoroth called to the pack and they rallied to him, disappearing as a dark cloud beneath the shadows of the dense trees. They pulled the carcass of the dead pack horse with them, stopping only when the sounds and sights of the wounded were far behind them. They would eat well for a good while, and then move on. [ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
__________________
Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside. |
![]() |
![]() |
#35 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: somewhere out there
Posts: 29
![]() |
![]()
Deorlin floated, his mind a blank. Only the dull throbbing in his head letting him know he lived still.The open wounds on his legs and arm were too numb from the icy waters to cause any pain - yet. Blessedly, he was unaware really of all that had transpired in those few short moments. He knew vaguely that if he didn't get out of the water soon, he would go under and draw water instead of air, and that would be the end. But the end of what? He tried hard to think, to remember. An image flashed through his mind - a horse - Frey? No this was a chestnut, not a dun. It wasn't Frey. But he was riding it - why would that be? And then he saw a bright spurt of blood and heard a horrible horse scream and it was down, falling, rolling already in the grip of its death throws. and then . . . once more his mind was blank. Why was he in the river? Where were the others? The others? Why had he been riding with, who was it now, Aelfritha, Anglachel, and . . . oh yes, the tiny woman, Izrenna, had that been her name? This was the River Snowbourne, for some reason he knew that much for sure. Once again, he thought he had better get out of the water, befoer he drowned, but a strange lassitude had taken hold of him; he felt oddly relaxed, warm even. It would take such an effort to roll over and swim to shore. It was much more pleasant to jst let the current carry him along. he opened his eyes. The sky above was bright blue, with only one white cloud to be seen. perhaps he should just stay like this, forever.
As he drifted into unconsciousness, Deorlin's body was carried closer to the northern shore. There it came to rest, lodged against a fallen tree trunk. he bobbed gently up and down in the backwash, his face still turned towards the sky.
__________________
"Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds" |
![]() |
![]() |
#36 |
Summoner of Lost Souls
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: At home, with my Strongbow
Posts: 521
![]() |
![]()
Rhana knelt down next to Gormel and Kane dropped down on the opposite side of their wounded leader, both trying to figure out what to do with him. His wound was bad and it was obvious, that if it wasn't tended quickly and properly, he would die.
As if struck by the same thought, they both raised their eyes and gazed at each other. What if they didn't tend the wound properly? Surely he would die and there would be one less to think about. Rhana looked closely at Kane. He was young, barely anything more than a boy but he had guts. He had courage and though he was quiet, he wasn't stupid. She knew it was quite the opposite which was why he didn't show it. He was content with waiting for his chance to come. And it seemed that chance had come now. None of them noticed Bhurthnin, Gormel's second, before he was standing next to them. He had wisely kept himself out of sight under Gormel's wing during the fight. "Are you just waiting for him to die or are you going to do something about that wound of his?", he yelled at them, trying to demonstrate his power. Rhana slowly stood and stepped toward Bhurthnin. "No matter what we do, he will die!" She was furious and Kane, knowing too well where this would end, looked down at the ground, shaking his head. She stepped even closer to Bhurthnin, so close she was almost standing on his toes. "And where were you when we were fighting off the wargs? Where were you when your precious leader was attacked? Where were you when..." He struck her hard across the face with the back of his hand and, not entirely sober, she lost her balance and fell to the ground, feeling the blood pouring from her nose. "If he dies, you die!" Bhurthnin said and left. Swallowing hard Rhana struggled to get up and gratefully accepted a helping hand from Kane. She looked him in the eyes and nodded. He could rely on her help. She wiped some of the blood away from her face and took a close look at Gormel's wound, then grabbed the flask he kept at his side. She drank some of the brew herself, then, without any care, she poured some of it over Gormel's shoulder to cleanse the wound. The man groaned from pain and she smiled sadistically as she bound his wound none too gently. Now who has the power, Gormel? she thought as she finished and left to take care of her own wounds. A stranger had joined them while Rhana and Kane had been busy with Gormel's wound, an older man who presented himself as Ulfeg. He claimed to have been sent out to meet them here and escort them the rest of the way. How convenient to appear after the attack, when the fight is over, Rhana thought but she kept quiet. No need to fall out with this man. First they had to take care of Bhurthnin and this Ulfeg might be of use. The three men worked together on getting Gormel back on his horse and Rhana, with help from Sadiya, gathered the others. She noticed that Sadiya seemed relieved, though a bit shaken and she flashed her a quick smile. "He wasn't any good for you anyway." she said and mounted her horse, anxious to get away from this place. They still had a long ride ahead of them and they had to move swiftly. She looked at Bhurthnin once more. They were awaited, but just how many of them would return to their employer was very uncertain. [ January 05, 2003: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]
__________________
-"Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave. Our birth is nothing but our death begun." |
![]() |
![]() |
#37 |
Haunting Spirit
|
![]()
'We have to journey fast, said Béowulf, 'and unless you can run as fast as a mearh you will be left behind.'
Corrin (and Léod) reluctantly agreed to this proposal. To show his displeasure of having a stranger ride him, Léod ran so fast that even Béowulf had trouble keeping his seat. Izrênna saw the bay coloured lightning that was Léod approaching her. She smiled once more, a weary smile, for she was fatigued. Though she struggled to show that she was not bothered by the attitude towards her by the group she was with, it was beginning to affect her anyway. She was pleased somewhat when the bay mearh stopped in front of her suddenly (Corrin fell off because of the momentum: he was not to pleased by that) and Béowulf greeted her with an embarrassed smile. 'Greetings my lady,' panted Béowulf, 'I hope that my companions and I are not too late to join the expedition.' 'No, you are not,' replied Izrênna, 'We have just stopped to rest for a while to wait for stragglers.' 'That must mean us, Léod and Corrin,' laughed Béowulf, 'But I am so glad that we caught up.' I would have been gladder,' grumbled Corrin, 'if your horse did not try to KILL us in his haste. Yes, Mr. horse, I said kill, murder. . . 'Gentlemen,' interrupted Anglachel as he came up to them, 'I am glad that you came as well. I was beginning to wonder if ever you would come.' Léod suddenly whinnied and shied away: the group became aware that Wargs were attacking them. As quickly as she can, Izrênna drew her bow and shot at one wolf, causing it to retreat in pain. Ælfritha and Malienna, barely controlling their mounts, began to hack or whip at gaping jaws. One of the pack horses was killed already by the wolves while the other horses were being harried by the rest of the wolf-pack. Corrin, seeing a wolf lunge at him, swung his two-handed axe as quicly and as powerfully as he could, but the wolf was too quick, clamping down upon his right arm. Thank goodness I wore my mail, but OW! the bite still hurts. . . Angered by the pain, Corrin brought down his axe and severed the wolf's head. Hading rode up to where Anglachel and Béowulf were, shouting, 'Mearh-hring!!! Mearh-hring!!! Forþ tó beadu!!!' Immediately, Béowulf and Hading took Anglachel in hand and formed a fighting circle. The hindquarters of their mounts were nearly touching and their heads and deadly hooves faced out from the center in a deadly formation. Three wolves circled them, rushing in as they could to nip and slash at the flesh of rider and mount. One wolf leapt up to Hading, going for his throat, but instead the wolf met Hading's blade which cut deeply. The carcass fell down to be trampled by horse-hooves. Another wolf sprang at Béowulf but his sword struck off the creature's foreleg. Léod, in bloodlust, sought to leave the protective ring in order to harry the stricken wolf but Béowulf reined him back, 'Ná, Léod! Bæc!' Dúgoroth and his two Wolves had now joined the fray, and savaged the trio which had wounded one of their pack. Anglachel’s horse shied at the nearness of the Warg. Rolling his eyes in terror, the horse sought to bolt, and Béowulf pushed against the frightened animal with his and reached out to help the merchant steady his mount. The disturbance, however, left Hading's mount unprotected. The Warg and the other wolves lunged at the Hading's horse. The Warg brought down the horse, while the wolves attacked Hading. 'Déað!!! cried Hading, a mighty shout from the depths of his fearlessness, and smote a mortal blow with his blade to the nearest wolf, 'Déað tó þé wulf-héap!!! But even as he shouted, two other wolves went for him, one at his throat and the other at his shoulder. His blood ran like a river over the green field of his cape, and never again was his fair voice heard in Rohan. Angered by the death of a fellow Rider, Béowulf charged the wolves who were upon the fallen Hading. Retreating from the sudden attack, Carchmoroth called to the pack and they rallied to him, disappearing as a dark cloud beneath the shadows of the dense trees. They pulled the carcass of the dead pack horse with them. What are wolves doing in the Mark, thought Béowulf bitterly, If only we had arrived sooner! He was especially sorry for Hading: Béowulf decided that he will be the one to inform Hading's family of his untimely death. [ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Estel the Descender ]
__________________
Qui desiderat pacem, præparet bellum. E i anîra hîdh, tangado an auth. |
![]() |
![]() |
#38 |
Animated Skeleton
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: Arizona
Posts: 40
![]() |
![]()
Anglachel dismounted and, thrusting his long knife into the earth, knelt next to the body of Hading. Finding the great sword of Hading in the grass nearby, he wiped it clean before carefully placing back into the warrior’s grasp. He then folded his arms onto his chest in the traditional manner for one who has fallen in battle.
Bowing his head while still on one knee, Anglachel contemplated the appropriate words for such a bleak occasion. After a few moments, he composed one or two lines in his mind that sounded fitting for a soldier of Rohan. “Though we have lost a valiant member of our company,” spoke Anglachel slowly yet clearly so that everyone could hear, “we should not mourn for him beyond this moment that we now share, for a warrior that dies in battle has fulfilled his duty. Needless is not the death that comes from sacrifice and courage. The bravery of Hading has allowed those of us who remain to continue our quest. We must not linger overly long in sadness when our goal is yet unachieved. Hading now rides in the sunny fields amongst his ancestors, so mourn no longer, his worries are forever gone.” After a few moments of silence, he rose and sheathed his long knife. Following a quick survey of the damage and loss, he spoke briefly with the others to arrange a burial for Hading and hasty retrieval of whatever goods they could gather in a short time. The thieves were increasing the distance between them every minute they delayed. Time was not on their side. Anglachel looked around at the faces of the other riders expecting to see despair, yet all that he could read in the eyes of his colleagues was resolve. This group has a strong will, he thought to himself, these few do much to inspire hope. He allowed this thought to linger for a moment before turning to the task of laying Hading to rest. |
![]() |
![]() |
#39 |
Etheral Enchantress
|
![]()
Izrênna looked at the body of Hading, and tried her hardest not to show the terror she felt. She clenched her jaw and tried to steel her will against the events that had just took place. She looked at her bow, and then at the Warg she had killed.
Izrênna took a deep breath and looked around at the firm decided look in the company's eyes. This company was one, and they would all do anything for each other now. Although she may be an outcast due to her diminutive frame, Izrênna could feel that the others were beginning to think of her as part of the fraternity that was forming in this small group. She hoped that the dedication would last them throughout this quest. There would be no fame or glory in this mission, but there was comraderie nonetheless, and it was beginning to show. They may earn themselves more respect than they could have ever imagined, merely by aiding these people find the beasts that the thieves wrongfully took from them. In her thoughts, she suddenly remembered that one member of the group was still unaccounted for. "That man!" she exclaimed, "Where is the man?" She looked at the puzzled looks she was given, and realized that she did not even know this competitor's name. "The one...the one...that was ahead," was all Izrênna could say to describe Deorlin. "Deorlin!" said Anglachel, remembering, "He is not here!" "Where is he?" Izrênna asked, flushed with worry. She had a fleeting thought of confusion for why she should be so worried about so hostile a companion, but then she shook it off. Her personal issues were of no import now. The important thing was to find the valuable member of the company. "We must look for him!" Izrênna said, immediately beginning to scan the land, trying to see evidence for where he may have went. "Can any of you read tracks?" she asked, "We may be able to tell where he went through the markings he left!"
__________________
"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 |
![]() |
![]() |
#40 |
Animated Skeleton
|
![]()
'Stupid, lazy, irresponsible dwarf!' thought Corrin angrily. 'You knew that they will need a stout dwarf! You felt it in your bones! Now a man is down and even the sacrifice of riding that murderous beast was for naught.'
Corrin stuck the spike of his axe into the earth and inspected the damage to his arm. He smiled to himself, seeing that the mail was not penetrated; still, that warg's bite was strong and he was sure that he was thoroughly bruised. 'Looks like one-handed fighting is out of the question for a while,' he thought. He sighed, grabbed his axe from the ground, then looked around to make a survey of the group. 'Well,' he muttered aloud, 'you would think the Horse-lords would send more people for this sort of thing.' He shook his head, then added silently, 'Ah, Corrin-my-boy, don't you go looking down on this folk. It's your fault that a man was down. You could have armed them. For free, too.' He shook his head again. A man walked up to the middle and said, 'Will no one help me lay to rest one of our comrades?' Hearing this, Corrin harrumphed loudly and walked purposely forward. 'I will. I will,' cried Corrin. 'I cannot save the poor lad's life, but I can fix it that his body will be molested no more.' He walked passed Léod, and as he did so both of them looked each other in the eye then turned away, the horse snorting and the dwarf muttering. 'This is going to take some work,' said Corrin. 'The ground is hard but we need to dig deep; good thing you have me!' Corrin reached for his mattock, then remembered that he left it in The White Horse. He slapped his helm but said nothing, instead bringing out his broad-bladed sword and his throwing axes. He handed one axe to Anglachel and the other to Béowulf, saying, 'Please measure out earth where you want the lad laid by striking the ground like this,' as he made a chopping motion with his hand. 'Don't be afraid to strike as hard as you can, even on the stones. Those axes were designed to stick into rock. I shall later empty the hole of the earth with my sword.' 'A disservice to your sword, master dwarf,' said Béowulf. 'You know, I have had about enough of you treating me like some halfling,' said Corrin, but with humor and laughter in his voice. 'If you must know, this sword is strong enough to penetrate some types of armor, so this ice-hard ground shall be no match. Wielded by me, a veteran of The Battle of the Five Armies, why, I tell you...' Béowulf's eyes rolled up, 'Oh, no!' You see, before Béowulf had been forced to take Corrin on Léod, a simple remark had started the dwarf on a long tale about this or that battle, this or that bit of trouble. Probably one of the reasons why he felt forced to take him on Léod. And so, the dwarf worked and talked animatedly at the same time, sometimes chuckling to himself about some particularly good fray. It did not take long to hollow out the ground, for even with just the sword and the axes between them dwarves have always had the skill to delve. So the torture of listening to Corrin did not last very long. Meanwhile, everyone was regrouping and taking stock of what had happened. A slight woman took the attention of everyone, though. 'That man!' she exclaimed, 'Where is the man? The one...the one...that was ahead.' Before Corrin said 'We just buried him' (and good thing too) Anglachel exclaimed, 'Deorlin! He is not here!' 'Another one, eh?' thought Corrin. He patted the last of the earth on top of Hading. 'Well, looks like you can still show your worth, Corrin-old-chap.' So Corrin cried out loud, 'Save the Horses! Save Deorlin! Ha-hah! Yesh! Let's go!'
__________________
qui moderatur sermones suos doctus et prudens est et pretiosi spiritus vir eruditus stultus quoque si tacuerit sapiens putabitur et si conpresserit labia sua intellegens Parabolæ Salomonis XVII:28
|
![]() |
|
|
![]() |