Blue Sky, Night Thunder: The Fool's Errand

[Susan Delgado]

All right, here we go!

Thorondruin gazed around the room, looking for someone who could help him. He didn't need anyone specific, just someone large and strong. He moved up to the bar and ordered an ale. He continued to look around, but didn't spot anyone he'd like to invite on his mission. And he couldn't trust just anyone...he was going to steal one of the fabled Silmarils and that required very trustworthy people. He didn't see anyone like that here. With a sigh, he finished his ale and got up to leave. This was the third Inn he'd tried and he hadn't seen anyone he'd trust with a cup of water, let alone his life. He started toward the door, but halfway there he was accosted by a big, black haired man who smelled like he hadn't bathed or had anything but ale for a week. "Hold it, little man," he growled, "I think you should just hand over that coin you're carrying." Quickly, Thorondruin sized the man up. He was big, but slow. Also drunk. He shouldn't pose a problem. "Get out of my way, now, and there won't be a problem. You'll probably even leave here alive."

The big man laughed and swung a ham-fist at Thorondruin's head. Thorondruin ducked and swung his dagger at the man's cheek, laying it open to the bone. "That was a warning." he said, "Try it again and I'll go for your throat." Ignoring the warning, the big man tried again. Thorondruin neatly cut his throat and left him where he fell. He brandished his bloody dagger at the rest of the Inn's patrons and said softly, "Anyone else who wants to try robbing me, I'm ready." There were no takers. Thorondruin left the Inn, but as he walked down the street, he heard running footsteps behind him and someone shouted "Wait!" He turned around and raised his dagger, ready.

[ December 25, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Ivy of the Woods]

It was Ivy who yelled out for the Inn doors but it was not to Thorondruin that she called. Some one wearing a long brown cloak looked at her just beyond him and she ran pass Thorondruin and over to him.
"Lander there is some one hurt at the Inn, let me just help him then we'll go." Ivy of Rohan looked up at her friend who shook his head. Lander's face was covered by the cowl of his cloak and he stood straight, with strenght. She knew he wished to leave but thought she could help the man who lay on the Inn floor.

[Silent Wanderer]

Lander looked over at the man who had pointed a dagger at Ivy then turned his attention to her.
"If he can be helped some one else can. Lets get out of this place." He whistled for their horses who came running.
"We don't want anymore trouble here. I want to avoid spilling blood."

[Manelwen]

This was the kind of excitement she was looking for. She looked with avid, yet morbid interest as the man went down clutching the gushing would, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He finally fell to the floor, and twitched; the last throes of his death descended on him like a carrion fowl to the dead. She stood and tip-toed around the pool of crimson blood that stained the floor, mindful of the full length of her white cloak.

Gushes of cool fresh air met her, and she greeted it with a deep breath and a smile. There was a woman just getting onto a horse and the man in the inn that she had seen was cleaning his bloody dagger. "You looking for trouble." He glanced at her malevolently.

A wolfish smile spread across her face. "Will it looks like you are, so if you think about barking up this tree then maybe you should look at what's up it first." She let the tip of her own trusted dagger flash in the latern light.

"I saw you at the inn, who are you?" He said, eyeing her warily.

"A passing traveller," Her cold eyes scanned him from the depths of her white hood. He turned away, his face flashing with sudden interest but cloaked with contempt made her smile, "Who is interested in what exactly you are so keen on protecting." She let her hand come out of the cloak and slowly she let the dagger drop from her hand, the chain clinking on her silver gauntlet until the top of the blade was a mere hair away from the mucky ground.

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin considered this move. If he understood the Elf's weapon correctly, it was quite wicked. And she was still holding the chain end. Too dangerous. "Drop it completely and I'll tell you what I'm after," he told her. She looked disbelieving.
"You drop yours first. I'll no more leave myself open than you will."
Ah, she was both wise and cautious. "Very well," he said, and dropped a dagger to the ground.
She paused a moment before dropping the end of her chain and saying, "You only dropped one. I like caution in a man. Now, what are you after?"
"Not here...too open. Follow me." He led her through the streets until they reached a dark house. Without opening the door, he said "I'm going to Ossiriand to steal something. Something very special." She waited. After a time, he continued, "I'm going to steal the Silmaril which is fabled to be somewhere there."
She nodded and said, "I may know where it is." He gave her a long hard stare.
"Truly?"
"Truly."

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel sat in a corner of the bar room with her hands around a mug of ale, and watched the brawl begin with one of her eyebrows arched in amusment. In a flash, the big man was lying on the floor and the other had stormed out of the Inn.

Hmm...that was interesting she thought. He seemed to be looking for someone. I'm hoping he wasn't the fellow I stole that horse from, but I'm guessing he wasn't looking for me. He certainly didn't have the look of a farmer, anyways. Speaking of the horse, I should be going about now...

She drained her glass and set it lightly down on the table, pulled down her hood and pushed her hair out of her eyes, and stood up. Then she swept out of the bar into the cool night air, heading to where her stolen horse was tethered. Or should have been. Dineniel swore violently at the empty stable and turned on her heel.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Manelwen]

Her lips curled in another smile, a flash of distrust flickered in his eyes and then went out. "Take your hood off." He snapped, agitation smeared his words.

She reached back and yanked her hood off, the harsh light making her wince. "I know where it is, if you want it. I'm thinking that it would be too hard to obtain but with the right people around... the jewel is priceless and the Noldor would pay double your weight in gold for it." She said in a hushed tone, knowing full well that many of the people in the town wouldn't know what she was talking about, but if the words got to the wrong person...well, she just didn't want to think of it. "What is your name, blood wolf?" She asked suddenly, catching the lanky man off guard.

"Thorondruin."

She nodded "They call me Himelilek." Leaning back on her heels, bring the dagger slowly up by its chain.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin watched coldly as the Elf coiled the chain on her weapon. He'd begun to have second thoughts about her, before, but if she knew where he could find the thing, it would prevent his having to wander all over Ossiriand looking for it. It meant that, once again, his instincts had not failed him. "You said you knew some people."
She gave him her full attention now. "Welll..." she drawled, "That's not precisely what I said, although it can be true, for the right price."
"Price?" He said sharply.
"I want half of whatever you sell it for."
"Who said I was going to sell it?"
She laughed suddenly, making him reach for his dagger, "Come now, only a fool would steal such a thing and then keep it, and you are no fool."
"Half is out of the question, then. Ten percent."
"25"
"How many people are you planning to bring inro this mission, anyway?"
She seemed amused by his question. "I don't know. 25 percent?"
"No. Not until I know how many people I'm dealing with.
"Fine. Shall we return to the Inn, then?"
"You first," he said, gesturing with his dagger.
"But of course." She was definitely amused now, and she felt no danger, bacause he needed her.

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel noticed two figures a short distance away, imersed in a quiet conversation and looking slightly shifty. As she drew closer, she recognized one of them as the man from the bar fight.

He looks about the right type for a horse thief. It takes one to know one.she thought, but saw no horse in sight.I don't suppose it could hurt to ask...

She reached the two figures, both of whom started at her presence; true to her name, she was able to move without a sound.
"Excuse me, have either of you seen a large grey mare being led away from here? It's going to be dificult going for me without it, and it has been, ah, stolen." rather re-stolen, but they don't need to know that...she thought wryly.

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin shifted his attention to the newcomer. Was it possibly true that she was asking about her horse? He recognised her as someone who'd been sitting in the Inn, one who'd given him a rather strange and intense look. He decided to play along. "As a matter of fact, a woman rode away on such a horse not ten minutes ago. Maybe you should try to catch up to her." She just stared at him, and he could tell that she didn't really believe him, but she also didn't completely disbelieve him either.

[Manelwen]

Himelilek watched lascivously as glances were exhanged between the horse-thief and the man. "Get going girl. The longer you stand gawking, the farther you are from getting that horse back." She said slowly, nodding towards the road.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

"I don't think I'd have much hope catching a woman on horseback while I am on foot and have little idea where she has gone. It wold be less trouble to find another horse, I imagine." Dineniel replied icily.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[navmarien]

Ollea sat alone at a table in a dank corner of the room, watching the proceedings with subdued interest. carefully concealled in her cloak and with her hood up she looked every part a young, bored man looking for some excitement, if a bit small and gaunt. Himelilek appeared to be toying with some rogue mortal across the dimly lit room, but this seemed slightly different than usual- from this distance it looked like she very well be doing some sort of deal. The third was unknown to her, but she had seen her steal a horse from outside. Ollea considered her position carefully. Though she had not yet been on the receiving end of Himelilek's Pendulam blade, the elf was beginning to doubt where Ollea's loyalties lay. Whatever was to be done would have to be done with utmost care.
She made the contact. >Himelilek,< she sent, keeping her 'voice' low and mellow so as not to aggravate a flare of temper, >Been a while. Care to fill in an old friend?<

[Susan Delgado]

At the newcomer's remark, Thorondruin burst out laughing. The other two gave him varying looks of consternation. "'Find another one', indeed!" He said, recovering, "What's your name, girl? I may have a use for your talents."
"Dinenial. Why would you need my talents? I'm just-"
"Don't tell us you're only an ordinary Elf, girl!" Himelilek said sharply.
"Then I won't. Why do you need my talents as a horse-thief?
"We're going to find something and you could help." Thorondruin said. "Well, what?" He snapped at Himelilek, who looked suddenly distracted.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

"Find what, exactly?" said Dineniel suspiciously.

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin looked around to make sure no one was listening. He did notice a young man across the room staring at them, but he was confident that he was too far away to be able to hear what was going on. "I'm going to steal the Silmaril hidden somewhere in Ossiriand. Sound interesting?"

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel's eyes lit up.
"Steal a Silmaril? Sounds like a challenge...how on earth did you locate a Silmaril? Never mind, that's not the point. The point is, that sounds like a challenge and I'm always up to...expand my skills."

[Manelwen]

She tensed, hearing the familiar voice; a voice the mortals could not hear. The smile on her face grew more mischievious as the minutes went by. "Yes, but watch your mouth girl. I have seen people run fast when they make enemies with me." Her voice was like honey-coated barbs, and as she turned away she relished in the heated look the girl gave her.

She left them standing there, in the road to go into the inn where she thought the voice came from. In the corner of the room there was the face that matched the voice, peering at her over the rim of a cup of ale. Mindful of the blood still on the floor--but the dead man gone, dragged off by the looks of the trail--she picked her cape up and walked to the table and sat down. "Ollea." The icy-eyed elf acknowledged with the tilt of her silver head.

"Himelilek" She muttered tipping her mug towards the elf.

"Up to no good as usual?" Himelilek's eyes were on the door as the woman she had been talking with and the overly ambitious theif walked in the door.

Nodding slowly, Ollea's eyes fell on the two she had been looking at, "As always." She sighed, her eyes shifted to Himelilek's silver ones. "So what have you been getting up to, lately?"

"Things that innocents like you shouldn't be getting into." She taunted mercilessly.

"ah." Skillfuly avoiding the question, as always. Ollea thought darkly as she looked at the silver decked elf. Taking a drink of her ale, she glanced at the two that were looming over Himelilek's shoulder. One, the elf-girl looked pouty and the other, the man, looked as if the whole of Melkor's army was after him.

"This one here is ideal for what you have in mind, Thorondruin." She said sweetly, not glancing over her shoulder but staring straight into Ollea's eyes unnervingly.

"In mind for what? What hair-brained scheme have you gotten yourself into this time, Himelilek?"

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[navmarien]

>Very,< Ollea said from across the room. She watched the man whip his head around, looking for the source of the sound, but of course the only sound was in his head. She was glad for the hood then, which cast a concealing shadow across a face that was trying desperately to hold back a grin. though not as prone to violence as Himelelik, she did love toying with the rebels.

[navmarien]

(oops-i cant keep up with u guys)
smilies/eek.gif

[Rosseiliantiel]

<<OOC: Manelwen: I'm actually an elf, just wanted to point that out. I had my hair covering my ears so you couldn't tell. I can't hear your conversation with Ollea, maybe because I haven't been around many other elves or sommat>>

[Susan Delgado]

<'overly ambitious theif' indeed! Thanks, Manelwen; I think you made my day smilies/biggrin.gif>

Thorondruin sat down on one side of the table while Dineniel took the other. "Yes, Himelilek who is this and what are you planning now?" He glanced suspiciously back and forth between the two.

<OOC: I thought Dinenial was an Elf>

[Manelwen]

I know, I know...I made a mistake. Hey, even Elves make mistakes sometimes...

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

<<don't worry about it>>
Dineniel was enormously mad at Himelilek but trying hard not to show it.

And who knows how long I'll be stuck with her?! she fumed I'm sure a Silmaril is worth it, though. A Silmaril! Who'd ever have thought that Dineniel, the wandering theif and all-round no-good would be after a Silmaril!

[navmarien]

Ollea raised an eyebrow at Himelelik, who simply returned her glare.
Sighing, she looked at the man. He had a will to dominate, she could see that well enough. "My name," she said icily, "is Stormfire. That will be suffiecient for now."
Ollea looked at the dark elf across the table, rolling her eyes. >I can't believe i'm going along with this. What kind of wild-goose chase are you leading these rebels now?<
Himelelik grinned.

[navmarien]

Hey! my rank just went up, YAY!

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin was beginning to have serious doubts about Himelelik: not only about her fitness for his mission, but about her very sanity. What reason had she to smile so?

[Manelwen]

Yawning to catch all three of their attention, Himelilek nodded to the door, feeling eyes in the back of her head. "I suppose that now would be a good time to get moving." She suggested as she stood with a great flourish (and rather over-exaggerated) wave of her arm, her cloak swirled and swished as she moved. The other three caught the flash over her dagger and the clink of the chain as she moved.

They followed her out one by one, Ollae was last as she had to pay her bill, nonchalantly throwing a few coins on the table. "What?" Said the man irritably.

"There are a few men in there that might make some trouble for us. They caught you talking." Grumbled Himelilek.

[Rosseiliantiel]

"Great, that's just what we need. Trouble from drunken nosy imbeciles." muttered Dineniel as she stalked towards the door.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Irritably, Thorondruin led the other three outside. Suddenly, he realised what was bothering him: other than Himelelik's apparent lack of sanity, there were no men. He's gone to this town hoping to find big, strong, fighting men and instead he'd found only Elf-women. He thought it very strange.

[GreatWarg]

Khelek ran swiftly through the forest, sure-footed and silent. He knew these woods well; every tree and stone, river and dell. He had just had a successful hunt and would last a day or two more without food. As the sun started sinking and the mists strayed into the wood from the river, the wolf neared an inn that he was well-accustumed to. Few ever saw him, but he would sneak around the back and find a nice firewood pile to sleep against. He happened to come around the back, sticking to the shadows, nothing more than a silent ghost, when he saw a large man speaking to an Elf.

They both weilded daggers, and seemed to have a certain malice within them. "Obnoxious thiefs," the wolf thought to himself. "Up to no good, by the scent of their adrenaline." The wolf's keen ears caught the words 'steal' and 'Silmaril,' and he did not need to hear anymore to know that they intended to go after one of the rarest of Elf jewels. And the only one that could be even slightly known to thiefs was from the House of Thingol.

"Ah, so they plan to steal from Elf-lords, eh? Well, they'll have something to deal with." The wolf curled up against a pile of firewood, sniffing the air for the Elf and man to come out again.

[Manelwen]

Himelilek curled her lip as she went outside, the feeling was even worse outside. She grabbed the knife to her pendulum weapon and let the chain slide into her fingers to give her a good enough swing for if and when it did come.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[Susan Delgado]

As he stepped outside, Thorondruin sensed something not quite right, but he couldn't identify what is was. He glance around warily, but saw nothing. To be on the safe side thoughm he made sure to remain in well lighted areas of the street, and he warned the others they should do the same. Himelelik and Dineniel sneered at his presumptousness at telling Elves when there was danger. He glared back, but he noticed that they did remain with him in the light. He could still sense something following, but he wouldn't mention it unless it attacked. They were most likely aware of it anyway.

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel was uncomfortable staying in the light; she felt safer in the shadows always. However, she didn't want to loose the others and stuck with the streetlamps. She could sense a presence following them, and fingered the blue jewel set in the handle of one of her long, dark, wickedly pointed daggers, a nervous habit of hers.

[Belin]

Remdil missed it all. His uncle would chide him for it later as a disgraceful lapse of his bouncerly duties, but how was he to know there would be another fight? After the last one, he'd been worried about the chickens (one of the men in the fight had betrayed a certain liking for eggs, and another had kept harping on the survival virtues of the beasts) and had gone outside to make sure they were still there.
In fact, he was right. One of the walls had been severely damaged by someone who had apparently chosen that moment for his exit. Remdil vowed once again that he would someday learn to walk more quietly.

At the moment, however, the chickens were escaping, and so there was the difficult business of catching them, the irritating task of repairing their coop, and the puzzling matter of what to do with them in the meantime. Unable to think of anything better, he'd deposited them in the kitchen (much to the chagrin of the cooks, who were all a little afraid of Remdil's booming voice and looming bulk) and spent the last couple of hours nailing together boards in the dark and muttering to himself in terms that should have embarrassed the stars.

Now he was finished. He snorted to himself in satisfaction, proud of the task he'd accomplished, and headed back toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, he stopped. Was that a wolf he smelled?

[Cimmerian]

The tall, large man stumbled up to the inn and pushed the door open. He walked in sluggishly as if he was drunk.......... or even exhausted. His bald head glistenend in the pale light as beads of sweat trickled down his brow over his dark, cold eyes. His scarred face expressed a sullen scowl as he limped over to the bar counter. Slamming his fist on the wooden board he snarled, "Ale, wench!" His large muscular arms bore many scars some of which were fresh, some on which the blood had recently dried.

Sipping the ale from the flagon that was placed before him, he sullenly surveyed the room. A few men and elves stood or sat around discussing matters in harsh subdued tones. He noticed an elven maiden staring at him with a maniacal grin across her face and when he saw her hand reach for her dagger and chain, he casually loosed his tunic to reveal a chain around his neck on whcih were strung three dried and shrivelled and one freshly severed pair of elven ears.

He met her gaze and winked. She grinned even wider and walked towards him. Slamming her dagger into the bar counter she said, "Nice necklace, handsome. I am Himelilek."

The bald, sullen man raised a scarred eyebrow, "I am called Ozracles," he growled, fingering the ear strung necklace "You have nice ears."

Himelilek threw her head back and laughed as the others drew near. In a flash Ozracles had his battleaxe in hand, but silently kept seated sipping his ale.

Ooc - Allright, the gangs all here, lets loot, plunder and burn down stuff. Heeyahh!
Note to goodie characters. Do not ruin the game by trying to nip evil plans in the bud, thank you. smilies/wink.gif

[Cimmerian]

Ooc- My previous post takes place during the meeting between Susan's and Manelwen's charaters, now back to present timeline.

Ozracles was ever ready for a fight but suddenly everyone around him walked out of the inn. The tall, bald barbarian grunted and finsihed his drink. Dropping a few coins on the counter he walked out and found them standing outside in discussion.

"Hey you lot," he yelled, "I know that your kind are up to no good."

"And are you going to stop us, barbarian?" sneered a tall thin man, apparently the self proclaimed leader of this pack of rabid thugs.

"Far from it," replied Ozracles, "But I have overheard you requiring men for a fine night of loot and plunder, well, look no further."

"Really?" said Hiemlilek, "of what use could you possibly be to us?

"Hush, elf," cried Thorondruin, "we could defintely have use for this barbarian."

"Har! Har!" laughed Ozracles, his massive hulking frame looming over them all, " A wise decision. But I am very hungry now and the inn cannot provide me with the food I need."

"What do you have in mind for a repast, bald one," laughed the maniac elf maid.

"I crave for wolf flesh," grinned the bald barbarian.

"And I smell one already?" she replied, "let's hunt wolf."

[navmarien]

She had seen the bald man in the bar earlier, and he seemed to have a sadistic streak that even came close to rivalling Himelilek's own. Ollea sensed the wolf as well as the others; it was of the Elf-lords themselves, and following close. did it hear these plans calling for wolf-meat? A wolf's hearing was extraordinary, but was it close enough?
"My, what a solemn little monk you have here, Himelelik!" the sneering voice of the bald man broke her train of thought, and he reached out to shove what he thought was a small young man. Faster than he could see his hand was seized, and twisted hard enough to make him wince, a feat when you were dealing with a barbarian's pride.
"why you lit-" Still thinking he was dealing with a mortal, he raised the battle-ax he carried, preparing to swing. Ollea raised her chin defiantly, loosening her hold on her powers, allowing her eyes to seem like two bright blue flames. Ozracles took a step back in shock, shock that grew when the young man lowered his hood to became an Elven maiden whose face seemed set in stone.
Himelelik laughed at the sight of the mighty barbarian frozen in shock at being bested by something half his size. "Not all elves will donate easily to your collection," she laughed lightly, refering to the elven-ear necklace Ollea had seen him show Himelelik in the bar. "Lady Stormfire here has enough patience to warn you of your foolishness. I most often will not." She stopped laughing abruptly, a dark element coming into her manaical grin. Dineniel eyed the dark elf uneasily.
Relax, she sent to the horse thief. just try not to speak with her more than you have to and she will leave you alone. I've dealt with her before. The horse thief appeared to relax slightly, but it was hard to tell.
"So are we hunting a wolf or not?" Ozracles said gruffly, trying to regain his composure. "Of course," Himelelik said merrily. "Lead on."
Time was running out. Replacing her hood, Ollea sent a frantic message to the wolf, taking great caution that her companions catch not even a faint whisper of it, especially not Himelelik. Friend of Doriath, this is Lady Stormfire. Doubtless it is that you have heard of a plot among these people, but i have this one. You need to get back, they sense you. I suggest you hurry.

[Manelwen]

Her armor was beginning to annoy her. She wanted out of it but it was the only thing that usually kept her alive in most situations like this. With no one to trust but herself and her knife, she would take no chances. Flashing another toothy grin at the hairless warrior Himelilek sidled up to him, her knife hanging of its chain, swinging at her side. "So, who was the fortunate that so willingly donated to your cause, barbarian?" She purred, her cool eyes fluttered over the gorish necklack with avid curiosity.

"An elfin maiden who didn't take me seriously." He snarled, hefting his axe threateningly.

Raising a silver eyebrow at the man, she dug into her own pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel. She tossed it at him. "Open it." She ordered in a light voice, her eyes on the bag as if she didn't know what was in it herself.

Cautiously the warrior opened the back and dumped its contents into the palm of his hands. It took all his will to keep from throwing what spilled out onto the muck. "Yes, teeth. I collected them from the cocky barbarians that didn't know better than to avoid me." Himelilek said, taking the teeth from his hand and putting them back into the leather bag.

"You are sick." Growled the silent lanky man, Thorondruin.

She threw back her head, tossing her glorious mane over her shoulders and laughed. "I know! That's what they tell me, hm, Firestorm?"

"Himelilek, stop scaring the men." Ollae said with a sigh as she brought out her own weapon. "Come on, Himelilek, we hunt." She hissed excitedly, and ran quickly into the woods.

"I suppose we do!" Himelilek said delightedly as she swung the length of her chained knife around her neck and held the morningstar ball in one and the long bladed knife in the other. She turned as she ran and smiled impishly at the two men that stood silently on the street, "Don't worry, I got your back." she called before vanishing into the woods without a sound.

[Halbereth Diagona]

From the direction where she had run, there was a bloodcurdling scream. Out of the trees came a figure swathed in a silver cloak, the hood pulled down low over it's head. It snarled in a low, rough voice:
"Not one move or little miss squealer squeals her last." It was then they realised that he was dragging Hiemlilek along, holding a sharp dagger to her throat. The metal glitnted brightly. Then the figure dropped his dagger and realeased her. He was positive he knew one of them, but he could not say where.
Then it hit him. Firestorm!

[Rosseiliantiel]

As soon as Himeliek was released, Dineniel pulled out a gleaming dagger and pushed back her hood again to give her more freedom to move.
Himeliek? Now how did SHE get taken by surprise? This one must be good!
"Who are you and what's your buisness here?" snarled Thorondruin.

[Manelwen]

Himelilek gave the elf a smirk, "You are good if you can sneak up on me." She said happily, pulling her knife into her hand with the yank of a chain. "Very good indeed."

[GreatWarg]

Khelek had obviously heard the barbarian man's hunger for wolf flesh, and the silent plea for him to escape unscathed.

"Good Lady," the wolf replied to Stormfire. "I have doubtless heard the barbarian's sick taste, and yet I will still follow. I am fleet in the woods, and I know my way better than any rogue, thief, or bandit. They will not find me."

The wolf made his way deeper into the woods. It did not matter whether the band of culprits were in light or shadow, for he could hear and smell them, and sense their malice through the earth.

((OOC You people scare me sometimes. Just me vs. a whole rogue band? IS THAT IT?! Isn't there anyone else out there who can help?! Or does everyone like being evil?! Ah well, Khelek to the rescue! smilies/biggrin.gif ))

[Halbereth Diagona]

"Some call me 'the silver wanderer'. My business is my own." the stranger growled back.
Dineniel watched in fascination as the two men regarded each other. The stranger seemed to be slight in build as well, with broad shoulders.
"Not another gypsy elf. No particular bloodline, except the one of degradement." smirked Thorondruin. This must have touched the stranger's nerve, for he leapt at Thorondruin and knocked him backwards, swinging his dagger over Thoronduin's face.
"Alright, hold your tongue sir, or lose it." he snapped roughly.
Thoronduin nervousley edged away from the dagger.
"No offence meant." he muttered.
"Thank you." the stranger got up, still holding the dagger pointing straight at Thoronduin.
"As a matter of fact, I am descended from a great bloodline." the elf said.
"Oh really," smirked Thoronduin, "And what would that be?"
The stranger lifted his head. "Namien," he replied.
Thoronduin drew his sword, crying "The devil! The devil has come!"
"Oh, give it a rest." said the stranger, with a bored look.
Thoronduin cried out again.
"I shall dispose of it with a stake through the heart!"
"Honestly." flicked the stranger.
Himedel (?sorry) ran forward.
"If he can capture me...well, he could be useful...know what I mean?"

[Halbereth Diagona]

>sorry himelilek, got you're name wrong there!<

[Manelwen]

Himelilek was sitting on a tree stump, sharpening her blade. She glanced up, her eyes like steeled ice, but her face showing nothing but contempt and boredom. "Are you done flashing your tongue and your knife, uh, silver one?" She said mockingly.

The silver cloaked one turned to her, his eyes narrowed with dislike "What is wrong with you? Do you not know that your life is in danger, woman?"

"Fear is to show weakness." She sighed, standing and tossing the piece of wood over her shoulder. "Something that I like to think of myself as not."

"Vanity is a weakness that elves so often fall prey to, especially your kind." He eyed her armor and saw the symbols that adorned it.

With a flash of white, Himelilek's blade shot through the air like a stricking cobra, and embedded itself in the tree just a hair beside the elf. "You don't know anything about anything so shut your mouth, gypsy elf."

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Manelwen ]

[GreatWarg]

Khelek regarded this new Elf. He was a wanderer, certainly, but not truly evil. At least it was an Elf who could perhaps help him. Or maybe not. But in any case, the Elf did not seem to like the rogue band of thieves. "Which could be my advantage," the wolf thought to himself, temporarily forgotten by the bandits.

[Rosseiliantiel]

It would be wise of her to stop pushing this stranger, I think. He seems to have a short fuse...

Dineniel glanced at the Silver one, then at Himeliek.
"I think that if we're all done insulting eachother, we might have something to discuss," she said.

[Manelwen]

Himelilek grunted and yanked the chain, the blade whistled back but the corner of one of the blades caught the stranger's cloak and ripped it. She caught the blade and with a smirk let it drop to her side, the blades rang out as the went into one another to form one blade again. "Fine." She muttered, still eyeing the elf.

[Halbereth Diagona]

The stranger paid no heed to her. He gave the dagger another bored look. They seemed to be his speciality.
"Gypsy elf, am I?"
He raised his palm towards Himelilek.
"Don't know anything, don't I?"
From his palm shot a great jet of fire. It set alight the stump on which Himelilek was sitting and it shot up in flames. Himelilek's terrified face could be seen in them. The elf shot another jet, this time of water, which lifted Himelilek up. Then he summoned a gust of wind and blew her to the very top of a tree.
"This isn't funny. Get me down."
The stranger lowered his palm and Himelilek hurtled to the ground, stopping a few centimetres and swooping down to land.
"I can do much more than that. I think you'll find I'm a dangerous person to be an enemy to. I did warn you that I was descended from Namien."
>BTW, Namien was the most evil elf in history<
"A direct descendant. So no more 'gypsy elf' from you. I'm closer to the royal bloodline than you'll ever be."
The thing was, Amanalkarion, the stranger, knew in his heart that he was a gypsy, a traveller at least.But he shook off the thought. He was the great-great-great-great-great grandson of Namien on his mother's side, and he was proud of that. Still an ache tugged in his heart, because knew that when he was called a gypsy, everyone was right. All his family had been travellers. But he had a bloodline, a good one, so he couldn't let one, silly little elf get to him. Stupid feelings...they were always getting in his way. He wished he could just do away with them. And he wished with all his heart that Kalia were there.
"And," he added. "I'll thank you not to rip my cloak." And with a quick few elvish words whilst holding something at his chest, he mended the rent.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Halbereth Diagona ]

[Manelwen]

OOC. Halbereth, could you please get a hold of me, I want to talk to you about something...nothing bad, I just wanted to speak with you.

Himelilek growled angrily, gripping the dagger tightly in her hand, the thought of driving the dagger into the elf's chest was a welcomed idea, but the small voice that she often ignored yelled 'caution'.

[Halbereth Diagona]

>sure, do u have your private message on? if u do, I'll turn mine on and pm u. KO?

[GreatWarg]

Khelek sniffed the air. "Fire. So, this Elf has strong elemental powers, does he? Well, I suppose that it would do more harm to the others than it would to him. How do I deal with this one?" Khelek's tail twitched and his eyes narrowed. "I do not know who I can take as an ally. Lady Firestorm is kind to animals, but I do not even know why she is joining. Why would she want to steal a Silmaril from her own kinsman?"

[GreatWarg]

OOC Why is everyone so EVIL?! *sniffle* Am I left all aloooone?!

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion, feeling that he had dealt with Himelilel, noticed a wolf nearby. He liked animals.
He walked up to the wolf and gave it a long stroke under its chin. It put up its head. Amanalk suddenly felt a message coming through into his head..."Well, he seems to like me...maybe I can use him...
Amanalk shot a message back.
You're not using me...I am independant...
With a start, Khelek realised that Amanalk could pick up his animal messages.

[tangerine]

(hey, this is navmarien but the browser cut me off and it took me FOREVER to find a name that wasn't taken then my email didnt get the password and OH the horror of it all.)

Ollea had come running at the sound of the scream, but had stayed hidden in the shadows. now she stepped from the shadows surprising the newcomer. "What is all this?" she demanded, knowing what had happened but interested in hearing the responses. She wasn't really afraid of this Amanalkarion, descended of the evil elf Namien; though very few people knew it, none of whom were here, she was Valarindi, descended of Osse himself; a granddaughter.
Himelelik was glowering at him; "He attacked me," she growled.

[GreatWarg]

Khelek's tail twitched. He knew the band of thieves would soon come to investigate Amanalkarion's sudden disappearance into the woods.

"What are you doing here? And why are you taking up with bandits like those?" the wolf asked carefully.

[Belin]

Remdil, still wandering about in the dark, pulled out the hatchet that he carried around. Usually it was mostly for show, but he thought he'd need it now. After all, he couldn't have wolves hanging around the inn and bothering the horses (and possibly even the guests).

As he drew near the source of the wolf-smell, he heard raised voices and the clink of weapons. He rolled his eyes. Another fight? He rounded the corner and took a step back in surprise. There was the wolf, indeed, and there also was a large group of extremely dangerous-looking people. He couldn't fathom how the big one with the ears had gotten into the inn at all. He clearly had, however; to the wolf smell was added the scent of alcohol on at least most of their breaths. Remdil instantly decided he didn't like them, any of them, or the wolf either for that matter. Troublemakers.

"Who said you could come back here?" he demanded loudly. They turned and stared at him, perhaps surprised by his temerity. "Go take care of your own business. The yard is private property, and there's no fighting in the inn." Somebody snickered. One of the women turned a large and frightening grin upon him. "Go? Us? I think you should be more careful, meddler."

Remdil stood his ground. "Off!" he cried. Suddenly he recognized one of them. "You.." he said to Dinenial, "you stole my cousin's horse."

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel turned white as she looked at the big man, sizing him up.

Gah! @&$@&#$^! Time to go!

"Ah, I think you're mistaking me for someone else, I..." she startred backing up slowly, clutching one of her daggers. Then she took off into the forest.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[GreatWarg]

Khelek looked at Remdil. The man worked hard for his life, and did not deserve to be killed by these thieves. He had done nothing wrong, after all, except stumble in on them. Khelek quietly slipped away in the mass of chaos that followed. He moved into the inn yard and took the chickens back to their coop. He then melted back into the woods, determined to follow the trail that the thieves had left.

[tangerine]

As Ollea watched the wolf slip away, unwatched by all but her, she realized that she recognized this wolf; a pure white wolf was described to her before she came whose loyaties lay with the elf-lords, just in case they crossed paths. Are you the one they call Khelek? she ventured a guess, sending her private call out to the retreating wolf. The wolf stopped, looking back and becoming very still.
Ollea smiled slightly.I was told i might see you here. Well met, friend wolf. The wolf turned, and melted into the night's shadows.
Turning back to the matter at hand, Ollea sighed. She really shouldn't have gotten mixed up in this plot, but she had so wanted to find out what was going on that it was hard to resist. she would have to tag along for a while, since it was now far more difficult to simply disappear with explanation.
This, however, could be avoided, she thought as the two men began sizing up the man from the inn, preparing for a fight. Ollea closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly, allowing her entire face to be cloaked in the shadow of her hood. Her hand crept up, lightly resting at the bottom of her throat, pressing the flat jewel that hung there. She whispered some elven words in a breathless, inaudible whisper, repeating them twice. Then waited.
Thunder crashed through the silence nearby, shaking everyone out of there intense concentration. "That storm's almost here," Ollea said nonchalantely. "I think we should go inside."

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel edged out from behind a tree and followed along behind the others towards the Inn, staying well away from Remdil, who was glaring at her quite ferociously.

[Susan Delgado]

<Wow, this RPG has really taken off!>

Thorondruin refused to move. "Why are we following this man?" He shouted. Everyone turned to look at him. "All he's going to do is have some of us arrested and he can't possibly do the rest any good, so why are we following him? Follow me instead. I'm going into the forest."

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

Let's see, whose horse did I NOT steal...

"I'm with you. I'm pretty sure I'd be in the arrested categorey," Dineniel walked towards the forest and stood behind Thorondruin, glaring back at Remdil. Many of the others looked unsure, but a few joined Thoronduin at the edge of the woods again. Suddenly the clouds exploded above them in a downpour of rain and flashes of lightning.
"Oh...um..." Dineniel pulled her hood up in a futile atempt to keep of the rain, peering out through a practically solid sheet of water and looking rather glum.

Hmm, drowning or jail...nice dry jail...wait, no, that would mean JAIL...right, rain it is then.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

No accident that Thorondruin would also be in the "arrested" category smilies/smile.gif

"This way!" Thorondruin shouted above the sound of the rain. As he and Dinenial ran through the woods, he was gratified to notice that all of the plotters had elected to join him, and annoyed that Rimdel had apparently done the same. What does he want? he thought in annoyance.
At last they reached their destinantion, a cabin in the deep woods which, while cold and dark, was at least dry. They all filed inside. Thorondruin tried to slam the door in Rimdel's face, but the man outweighed him by seventy-five pounds or more and easily pushed his way inside.

[GreatWarg]

Khelek narrowed his eyes. The rain was, no doubt, created, and not natural. He had picked up no sign of rain for for several days at least. "My fur is getting wet," Khelek said remorsely, purposely letting Amanalkarion and Ollea overhear him. There was a grunt from Amanalk, and no answer at all from Ollea. Finding a small dell not far off from the cabin, the wolf settled in for the night.

"So what are you doing here? Why would you want to steal a Silmaril from your own kinsman?" the wolf wondered aloud. There was a short pause, in which the wind could be heard dancing on the crowns of the trees. The wolf curled up, putting a paw over his nose to keep out the chill.

Ollea had most likely been to Rivendell, if she had heard of him, and seemed most kind of the rogue band. And yet, why would so fair a maiden join with such thieves? And what was Amanalkarion doing amongst all of this?

((OOC Am I still alooone, or what? *sniffle* I want a companion!!! This sure is an interesting RPG, even if it so far seems that the bad guys are gonna win.))

[Susan Delgado]

That's what makes it fun smilies/smile.gif

Khelek's ears suddenly perked up. He could hear a whimpering coming from not far away. As he rose to investigate, he mindsent Is someone there?. The whimpering continued, but eventually he heard, Help me. What Khelek found he almost could not believe. It was a half-grown dog, white, but so shrunken with cold and wet that it was hard to tell just what he was. Who are you?, he sent. The dog turned his head to see Khelek and rose sluggishly. I was following you. You're the only unnattached dog I could find.
Khelek snorted. Dog? This creature thought he was a common dog? But, he was also cold and wet and it was always easier traveling in a pack, so all he sent was, I'm really a wolf, but it's not important. Follow me. He led the dog back to his little dell and they curled up together, sharing their warmth.

<Happy now, GW? smilies/smile.gif>

[Rosseiliantiel]

<<OOC: i'm not bad, i'm just confused and trying to make a living in an unwelcoming world...sniff sniff smilies/frown.gif >>

[tangerine]

Ollea sighed regretfully once in the cabin. She had kept trying to tell the wolf that they were on the same side- she had no intention of taking a Simaril- but it was necessary to keep her messages vague, and it resulted often in a lack of understanding.
Her cloak was now soaked through from the rain, and the dry air was at least warmer than the sheets of rain coming down outside.
She removed the wet cloak, draping it over a chair. Her hood had fallen back while running for the cabin, and she let her hair out to allow for it to dry faster.
She sensed Amanalkarion waching her. Interesting way you have of breaking up a fight,he commented. Ollea's breath caught in her throat. Of course! He must have noticed what she was doing, and put it together when the storm so suddenly arrived.
She turned her head towards him, eyes narrowing. We've met before, haven't we?

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin watched the Elves and became ever more annoyed. It was obvious they had some form of silent communication which he couldn't hear, and it irked him because they were supposed to be some sort of team...on a mission. And they were hiding things from him and anyone else who couldn't hear them.

[ July 16, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

The tall bald barbarian grew impateint of all the show of revelry and showmanship of these insecure elves.

"Bah," he yelled," What are you fools waiting around here for, pots of gold to fall from the skies?"

Thorondruin looked agitated and replied, "We have wasted enough time here, I have a plan of action and I will choose who will accompany me to execute it as some of you I can trust already but some leave me in doubt."

"What is that wolf doing here?" growled Ozracles, "It is fortunate that it is an ageing one and it's flesh and bones are too rancid to taste, or else he'd have made a fine bellyful for me."

Himelilek smiled and said, "There are other things we can hunt for, you know."

Ozracles ripped one of the shrivelled ears off his necklace and bit into it, chewing the toughened meat he said, "That sounds enticing, what do you have in mind? Not old dried gums, I wager."

Himelilek laughed and produced some lembas, saying "Try these for now, enough to whet your hunger."

"What is this?" aksed the bemused barbarian.

"Food," replied Himelilek and bit into one, Ozracles followed suit with gusto.

Ooc - What's the plan, Susan?
And I see some of the evil characters here have hearts of gold. Come on people, get into character and let's have a good(bad) game. Thank you!

[Belin]

Heh, best bouncing of my career. That'll teach them to make trouble at my inn. Wait a minute.... what am I doing?

Pushing his way into the cabin like that was the first truly impulsive act of Remdil's life, and he was beginning to regret it. He'd clearly fallen in among the insane. If the ears hadn't been enough to confirm it, the smile was. He watched the barbarian begin chewing on his distinctive necklace and shuddered. Yes, getting them out of town had definitely been a good idea. Getting himself back into town would probably be an even better one. No good could come of this, and besides, he already had the best story his wife could wish to hear.

The members of the band were absorbed in their bickering and their food, and seemed to have forgotten him entirely. Just as well. Quietly, he moved toward the door.

It was locked.

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin noticed the man from the inn move toward the door. When he discovered it locked and turned back to the room, he found Thorondruin standing not four feet away, idly playing with his dagger. Remdil was twice the size of this man, but when Thorondruin looked up to meet his eyes, Remdil found himself afraid. He saw nothing in the man's eyes but coldness; no fear, no hatred, just that coldness. He shivered.
Thorondruin spoke. "After inviting yourself into my home, are you going so soon, and without even a fare-you-well?"
Rimdel looked around nervously. Some of the others had come to see what Thorondruin was doing. "No, I was just-"
"I know very well what you were doing." He raised his voice to reach everyone in the room. "Look, everyone. The bird who tried to catch us is now trying to avoid being caught himself!" Thorondruin turned his head for a moment to watch as everyone else came toward the door. In that moment, Remdil raised his hatchet, intending to use it one the door, but Thorondruin misconstrued the movement to mean an attack and swiftly turned and threw his dagger at Rimdel's hand, causing him to drop the hatchet. He said, "I'll have none of that. There are seven people here, Innman, and six of them are against you. Do you really think you're strong enough to beat all of us?"
Frantically, Remdil shook his head. he was terrified by now and sent a panicked thought to his wife. Oh, Eolinda, protect our daughter! He had backed up against the door as far as he could, and all he could do was stare at the menacing circle of faces around him.

[ July 16, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Somewhere-though I could not say where, Valarindi. Amanalkarion's eyes narrowed as well. He moved towards her.

[GreatWarg]

OOC Oh, okay, fine fine, I get the picture. I'll just ignore that post...

Khelek's ears perked up and he sensed something was going on in the cabin. Leaving the wamrth of the dell, the wolf trotted around the back of the cabin and stood on a pile of brushwood in the back to get a better view. The cabin was crudely made, and had many cracks that had been jammed with smaller planks of wood. Peering through one of these cracks, the wolf saw the Remdil was cornered against the door, his hatchet on the ground, and the group was moving towards him, blades drawn.

"What are you doing?" the wolf snorted at Ollea and Amanalkarion. "Are you just going to let that bandit kill the man?"

[Manelwen]

"I don not think the force is necessary." Himelilek's voice was light, but the impish smile on her face raised the man's hackles. "He might be of use..." Her voice made them sudder as her eyes flashed hungrily over the snooping intruder.

"I-I" He stuttered.

She seemed to slither towards him, her cloak barely moving in the wind made her seem...unnatural. "Now, now..." She said soothingly, running her gauntlet hands over his chest. "You must settle down, dear...before you make one of them angry." Himelilek purred. "I don't know if I can hold them all back... a little elfin maiden like me..." Her drawling voice trailed off, her eyes looking at the warrior gnawing on his lembas.

[Rosseiliantiel]

Rosseil rolled her eyes and then sheathed her dagger.
"Oh, really, it seems he's here, we might as well make the best of it."

[tangerine]

Ollea allowed herself to relax just the smallest bit. this man should not have followed-the storm should have dissuaded him from doing just that. At least he was safe, for now.
She turned back to face Amanalkarion. "How could you possibly know that?" she asked suspisiously, in a voiceless whisper Amanalkarion had to lean forward to hear. "No one knows that. No one."

[Belin]

Remdil stared frozenly at the smiling elf. Of use? He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. On the other hand, it might mean she wasn't going to kill him right away... maybe. His mind raced. What did she want from him? Anything? Did she simply intend to kill him anyway? He opened his mouth, hoping to say something brilliant, but only managed a strangled, croaking sound.

The smile was hypnotic. Remdil gazed into it blindly. He'd been staring into it forever, he remembered no other life, and as far as his mind was working at all, it told him she looked like... like...

"Oh, really," a voice began. It sounded familiar... The thief! She was.. he tried to remember.. oh, yes, the horse. The inn! Remdil stared wildly around the room, himself once more. His eye fell on his hatchet. He couldn't possibly reach it from here, but it would break the lock easily. All he had to do was walk three feet across the floor and three feet back. He looked back at the manic elf.

"What is this you're babbling about?" he asked her.

[ July 16, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[GreatWarg]

Khelek relaxed about three hairs. "Scoundrels, good for nothing, lousy..." the wolf started. Ollea glanced carelessly over at the wall he was peering through.

"Okay, I'll silence myself." The wolf climbed down again and made a small, dry sleeping space under some brushwood that was right up against the side of the building.

"Wake me when you leave," the wolf yawned, curling up into a tight, white ball.

[Cimmerian]

"What have we to gain from killing this fat innkeeper, I say we let him be so he can keep our ale fresh when we return," laughed Ozracles. He moved toward Himelilek as she looked at him quizzically and then laughed aloud.

"He's right," she said. But Thoronduin looked skeptical and she addressed him, "Well, fearless leader, what are we going to do, now that you have what you need. We strong and able vandals ready for some loot and plunder."

"Har Har, that's what I like to hear," guffawed Ozracles finsihing the last of the strange food he was handed. It was strangely filling as well.

"Well, allright," said Thoroduin... "gather up close and I will tell ye."

Ooc - Susan, let's go raid somebody's house or something, please.

[Susan Delgado]

Giving Himelielek a scowl, Thorondruin stalked to the door, brushing the uppity Elf out of his way. She started to object, but he looked her full in the face and she stepped back without saying a word. Thorondruin took out his dagger and pressed it against Remdil's quivering throat. "I'm not going to kill you," He said in a deadly quiet voice, "I'm going to let you run along home to your ale cup. But if I ever see you again, you'll not live another hour. Understand?" Remdil nodded as much as he could without cutting his own throat. Without taking his eyes off the other man, Thorondruin reached over with his free hand and unlocked the door. Before he let Remdil go, he gave him a deep slice down his right cheek "as a reminder", then shoved him out the door into the diminishing rain.

He turned around to face the rest of the room and found everyone staring at him. "Now," he said "There's a trade caravan coming along the road near here tomorrow. We are going to rob it. We are not going to kill the traders unless absolutely necessary. We will then return here. Undertsand?" Everyone nodded, though Ullea and Dineniel looked disgusted.

[Halbereth Diagona]

"Oh, I know many things. And what I don't know, I make my business to know." replied
Amanalkarion, hardly blinking. Ollea was just the tiniest bit creeped out. Amanalk turned to Khelek.
I look after myself only...that man is not my concern.
>where i live there is a strike so i have the day off school yay!<

[Susan Delgado]

<<Please pay attention to the action. If this requires that you stop your private discussion, so be it. Thank you. Not trying to be rude, trying to focus RPG.>>

[Susan Delgado]

The white puppy slunk after Khelek, feeling miserable. He did not understand why the other dog <OOC aside: Remember, this is a town dog who's never met anyone but other town dogs, so that's what he thinks Khelek is. End of Aside> would reject him so cruelly. He could smell that the other dog had no pack, and the puppy couldn't imagine life without a pack; all he could think of to do was follow the dog around in the hopes that he might finally be accepted.

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[tangerine]

<I finally got my rank back up so that its not newly deceased anymore. That was bugging me.>

Ollea was worried. Her origins were secret to all but these very closest to her, and They dwelt either in Rivendell or Eregion. How could this Amanalkarion figure it out so quickly? She thought of some possibilities, but none of them were comforting.

At least the man had gotten away with his life, that was good. But robbing a trade caravan? She had never even given it thought that they would be needing to do such a this; she had gone along thinking that this was more of a quest, a straight path to steal a Silmaril. What was the purpose of such a barbarian act, other than to draw attention to oneself? She had half a mind to slip away in the midst of the robbery. But no. Himelilek and Amanalkarion were here; it might be difficult for her to make a clean break without having a good reason for it if she had to deal with any of them later on.

[Cimmerian]

"Har!" grunted the barbarian, "Robbing a trade caravan is mere child's play, Thorondruin."

"Well, it's time be separated the men from the boys," grinned the tall lanky man.

"Aye," agreed Ozracles, helfting his battleaxe, "After I have gutted the few who guard the caravan, I will leave you to do the pickings."

"Don't damage their heads, dear Ozracles," purred Himelilek, "After all you need the ears and I the gums, either of which are so hard to get from smashed skulls."

"I intend to hew their nodding heads right off," the Barbarian yelled, swinging his heavy axe and splitting an empty keg into two.

"Allright," said Thorondruin, "We take the trade cart, sell their wares in the black markets and get ourselves better weapons and armour."

"Armour is for weaklings," sneered Ozracles.

'Shut up, fool! hissed Thorondruin, "Taking a Silmaril will be quite a task I wager."

"Grraahh!" roared the barbarian and walked off with Himelilek feigning fear and making a face at him as he did so.


Ooc - Thorodruin should have a clash with Ozracles about the killing issue, because a barbarian revels in bloodshed. I think a crazy elf like Himelilek should also enjoy watching eyes roll in lopped off heads. Boy, when I get into character, I get into character. Grraaahhh!

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Manelwen]

The elf's smile broadened as she listened to the Barbarian grumbled about killing and all the gorish details that her delicate ears could hear. "We'll get our turns, Ozracles." she said in a low, clear voice.

Ozracles turned and grinned, "I hope so."

[GreatWarg]

((OOC Okay, okay fine. I'll take the little doggy!))

Khelek's ears twitched, listening to the gruesome converstaion in the cabin. The puppy had wandered over, and the wolf was now cleaning it, licking the dirt off. Life without a pack had become part of the wolf as he wandered alone, sending messages between different parties, or scouting out the land.

"What are you going to do about that trade caravan?" the wolf asked Ollea, who seemed hesitant about the idea. Amanalkarion didn't show any response whatsoever to the slaughter.

"Men," the wolf said, disgusted.
"I can block off the trade caravan, perhaps, depending on how large the party is. I can make them go around quite a ways so they won't pass by, and reach the end in a different direction. I have friends in the Wild that might help me."

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: GreatWarg ]

[Kettle of fish]

Rastus sat on the end of the second wagon of the caravans carrying glass beads, trying to avoid the switch of the merchant's son, who seemed to think it was funny when he flicked Rastus at the back of the neck, or at his ankles especially when he was sleeping.

The caravans grinded to a halt.

"Prepare the midday meal" the merchant Jonas ordered imperiously. He was already in a bad mood because they were already a week late in their travels and the bribes needed to enter cities had risen this season. The sudden downpour of rain hadn't helped his temper either. Jonas gave Rastus a cuff on the back of the head, as the boy scurried off to help prepare the meal for the five drivers, the twelve man guard that had been hired, and of course Jonas and his son. If there was any left, he and the cook, a large harmless woman, would eat - in the frantically hurried way that people eat when they know any dawdling will be seen as a sign of laziness and punished.

He sighed. The store of dry wood they carried was low. They had intended to collect more as they passed the border of the forest, but with this sudden rain...

Personally, Rastus was puzzled. He had seens the skies this morning and the shifting winds, but none of them had told him that rain was coming. But he stopped his thoughts. It did no good to think. You only got punished.

Under the damp canvas he set up, Rastus started a miserable fire with the remaining wood.

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Kettle of fish ]

[Susan Delgado]

As Ozracles and Hinelilek walked away, Thorondruin drew his dagger and threw it at the wall. It passed close between them and they turned to look at him, annoyance on their faces. "Look," he said, "That Silmaril will be very well guarded and we need money. I happen to know that this caravan is rich, and not well guarded. But if we kill the caravaneers...." He trailed off in thought. Ozracles turned away in disgust, muttering things under his breath. Thorondruin walked over to retrieve his dagger and tossed it idly between his hands, staring at Ozracles. Ozracles stared back insolently and Himelilek looked like she wanted to laugh, but didn't. Thorondruin sighed and pointed his dagger at Ozracles' chest. "You're right, Elf. This time. If we don't kill them, they'll run to town and everyone will be after us. But if you question my orders again, I'll kill you." He snapped his dagger back into its scabbard and stalked outside.

[Manelwen]

That anticipation bubbled in her mind and she seemed almost beside herself with glee. Pulling the chain and dagger from her belt she looked at the pale Ollae who seemed to be pulled between the currents. "If you want to stay behind, Firestorm...you may guard our backs. I know how it makes you squirmish to kill even a mouse if you starved." Himelilek said slowly, unconcernedly looking at her fingernails, admiring them.

"It is alright." Snapped Firestorm, her mouth pulled in a tight line and her jaw set defiantly. "I am perfectly fine."

"Maybe you have abandoned your screaming conscience for the glee of the hunt?" She purred venomously.

[tangerine]

Ollea's calm fell almost visibly from her; her entire composure now held a deadly air. Himelelik had seen her fight once, and knew that her precious Pedulam would never reach less than a foot away from Ollea; yet she now mocked her- no,laughedat her-for not having te stomach for battle.
Now she actally smiled, slowly and deliberately reaching for the hilt of her sword, unsheathing it just enough for Himelelik to see a flash of blue travel up to the hilt and disappear. "Squeamish, am I now? How easily you forget." She took a step forward, watching the leer on Himelelik's face falter. "Poor, poor Himelelik. How easily you forget." Her eyes flickered.
Turning away, Ollea sent a message out to the wolf.I really hope you reach that caravan in time.

[GreatWarg]

Khelek's tail twitched. So Ollea did care.

"Feel up to a journey, young one?" the wolf asked, looking down at the pup. The pup looked back, "Yes." The wolf darted away into the shadows with the pup keeping up the steady pace.

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles roughly pushed the tall, lanky man and held him against the wall, "Question your orders?" he snarled, bringing the axe head close to Thorondruin's pale face, "And who are you to order me?"

"Don't forget," hissed Thorondruin, pushing the huge barabrian away, "I lead this band, and these elves here listen only to me, if you wish to challenge me do so at your own risk."

Ozracles lowered his weapon and glared at the man as he swaggered away. He was right, thought Ozracles, these elves would never listen to him, besides he couldn't take on an entire trade caravan on his own. This idea seemed fine for now, after the Silmaril has been taken, it would be every man for himself and then Thorondruin would feel the wrath of this barbarian.

The tall, bald man rubbed his chin and guffawed, "Righto, Thor. You lead this rabble, we will do as you say...for now."

Himelilek laughed, she was looking forward to a clash between these two headstrong men.

Ooc - We kill everyone who is with the caravan...beware kettle o' fish.

[Susan Delgado]

OOC Sorry, Cim, for some reason I thought Ozracles was an Elf...

Thorondruin shook his shoulders to straighten his tunic. He'd have to keep an eye on this barbarian; he was dangerous. He wondered what would happen if they actually succeeded in stealing the Silmaril...He shook his head. It was too soon to think about right now. He gave the room a last look before saying, "All right. It's near midnight now. Everyone in the caravan should be asleep and easy to surprise." He gave Ozracles a challenging look. "Unless *you* think it isn't sporting enough to kill sleeping people?"

[Cimmerian]

Ooc - I thought you addressed Himel, Susan.

"A sport, indeed, killing is," grunted the barbarian. "I enjoy the look of fear one has before I have struck the mortal blow."

Thorondruin spat and shook his head but said nothing. If things went wrong, each one was expected to make his own getaway.

Ozracles walked over to Himelilek, smiling smugly he caressed her hair and took a sniff, "What else do you like of a Barbarian apart from their gums," he whispered slyly.

The elf raised an eyebrow, stepped aside and casually flipped the large man over her shoulders, laughing as he landed hard on his back.

"Oh, their ability to keep putting their big feet into their bigger mouths," she said and shimmied away.

Ozracles sat up and glared at everyone, scowled and walked outside, kicking a barstool as he did.

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion watched the argument with a smile. Sure, he could do something, but why should he?
He stuck two fingers in his mouth and immediatly took them out. Yuck...wolf hairs. He wiped them, then whistled for his horse. It came, a purple mare with silver eyes. Amanalk carressed it, then walked over to the men, and Ollea.

[GreatWarg]

"I didn't tell you to eat my fur, thank you very much," Khelek retorted, hearing the Amanalkarion's thoughts. "And my fur is fine. Other than being wet." The wolf grinned slightly and ran on. The pup trotted labouriously, but slightly behind and panting hard. "That trade caravan is still quite some distance away, but we'll make it before the rogues do," Khelek reported to Ollea and Amanalkarion. Nearing enough for the trade caravan to hear, the wolf paused for a moment and howled.

Almost immediately, the watch sounded an alarm. Echoing howls made it sound like a pack was surrounding the camp. The fire was lit in a blaze, and the guards started combing the area.

"Not what I wanted to happen," the wolf commented, watching. Finding no sign of wolves, the caravaners were on the look-out.

[tangerine]

Ollea watched Amanalkarion's actions out of the corner of her eye. What was he doing? He made her feel very unsettled, and she didn't like it. The others did not bother her nearly as much in all their bloodthirstiness altogether as this quiet menace did. And was that a purple horse? Her disquiet would show soon if she did not get a handle on the situation.
Turning to the others, she snapped "Enough with this foolishness. You are acting like spoiled children." She was getting a headache and these...bandits..were not helping matters.

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[Susan Delgado]

"Foolishness indeed!" Thorondruin exclaimed. "Why are we all standing around in here? Dineniel, we need horses. Go back to the inn yard and get us five." He condidered Amanalkarion's purple beast for a moment with disgust. "No, get six. No knowing when we'll need a spare. I'll show you where to meet us after we're done with the caravan."
He led the others outside in the direction of the caravan camp. A wolf's howl could be heard in the distance. "That reminds me. Ozracles, do something about that wolf. It's unnatural fo it to be following us around like it has."
Ozracles nodded grimly, for once in aggreement with the other man, and started off in the direction of the howling, then paused and looked back suspiciously.
"Trying to make me miss the slaughter, were you? Well it won't work," and he rejoined the rest of the group.
Thorondruin gave him a look of disgust and annoyance. "I don't care if you join the 'slaughter' or not, as long as that wolf is done away with." Ozracles muttered something unitelligible.

Suddenly, shouting was heard to the right. Himelilek had startled one of the caravan guards and was holding the point of her Pendulum against his throat. As the others ran up, she thrust the knife into his throat, killing him.
"That shouldn't have happened," Thorndruin said, angry, and the others responded with varying levels of enthusiam for the killing. Ozracles was especially incenced.
"What do you mean it shouldn't have happened? She shouldn't have killed him? Is that what you're saying?" He had shoved his face into Thorondruin's and grabbed him by the collar. Thorondruin grabbed his wrist and pulled back, releasing himself. He continued to pull until Ozracles looked ready to snap.
"No, fool. We're a mile yet from the camp. Why, do you suppose, there is a guard here, a mile from his post?"
The barbarian refused to answer, only growled and gnashed his teeth.
"That's right, they've been alerted. Now I wonder who could have done that?"
Ozracles' rage turned to shock. "Are you accusing-" But at that moment, Thorondruin releaased him and drew his dagger against Ollea, who had panicked at the thought of being discovered and drawn her sword. But before Thorondruin could do anything, a large, furry shape hurdeled out of the bushes and landed on his back, knocking him to the ground. He thrust the dagger which had been pointed at Ollea behind him and felt it sink into something soft and warm. He threw it off his back and turned around to discover a large and angry wolf, injured but still alive, crouching on the ground, snarling. The gang drew around it in a circle and stared at it. Ozracles, however, knew what had to be done. He drew his sword, saying, "Well, this is one wolf that won't be doing any more spying."

[GreatWarg]

((OOC um... that's not exactly what I had in midn to do... I don't think wolves are that stupid to commit suicide...))

Khelek snarled again, ears flat against his head, his white fur standing on edge. his tail twitched and he dodged Ozracles' sword and bit into flesh, tearing his arm to shreds, then leaping nimbly to the side.

"You will have to be much quicker than that," the wolf sneered, dodging another blow. For a moment, Ozracles seemed confused, then shocked as realization dawned on him. The wolf was talking to him, therefore someone had alerted it that they were going to raid the caravan! Thorondruin realized that too, and turned on Ollea.

"You!" he snarled, raising his dagger again. But at that moment, the wolf had turned aside again, and Ozracles stumbled and crashed into the man.

"Run!" Khelek urged, nudging Ollea towards the deepest part of the woods.

[Susan Delgado]

OOC He was trying to protect Ollea. Sometimes people don't pause for thought in these situations.

Thorondruin saw the bigger man coming and nimbly dodged aside in time to avoid falling. He threw his dagger at the fleeing Elf and struck her in the back of her right knee. She fell with a scream of pain and tried to turn over to face her attacker, but the pain was too great at first. Throndruin ran over to her with Ozracles in close pursuit, but the wolf was standing over her, growling and protecting her. Since it was obviously a sentient wolf, Thorondruin decided to try talking to it. "Look, beast, I'm not going to kill her, I only want to ask her some questions." While he spoke, he crept closer, but the wolf would have none of it.
Stay back, Man. I know your kind. You'll kill her after you question her.
Thorondruin shook his head. "No, beast, I'll only send her back to her people. I don't care where she is, here or in the Halls of Mandos, as long as she's not here to spy on me." He could see Himelilek creeping up behind the wolf, sword drawn, but he shook his head at her. She looked disappoited, but stopped her approach. Khelek, who had also been aware of the Elf's approach relaxed marginally, although he cold only account for four members of the group, when he'd been sure there were six before...where were the horse thief and the one who shot fireballs?

[tangerine]

Ollea heaved herself on to her back, into a painful sitting position. Grimacing, she closed her fingers over the hilt of the blade protruding from her leg and pulled with all her strength, nearing fainting from the pain as it slid out.
The man was lying, she could hear the lie in his voice. He was only trying to press for time while he assesed his situation. Her sword lay inches from her hand. Thorndruin saw where she was looking and kicked it away, sneering. "We'll have none of that now, spy."
Before Thorndruin's eyes had registered movement his own blade sank its burning steel claw into his shoulder. Another dagger from her belt was drawn, and Ollea used her other hand to painfully raise herself to her feet, supporting herself against a tree and on her uninjured leg. Her cover was blown. If he wanted a fight, then she would show him one. Ollea's eyes burned blue fire. She silently called to her horse that had been hiding in the forest, but it would take him a few minutes to reach this place. She remained silent, getting ready for the eminent onslaught.
But where were the others? Dineniel was getting horses, but where was the other? Though not knowing bothered her still, it was not a priorty. Staying alive for the next few minutes was.

[Susan Delgado]

"Himelilek, Ozracles, help me! Watch the wolf!" Throndruin shouted as he ran toward Ollea. She tried to run back, away from him, but with only one good leg she fell onto her back with another cry of pain. Thorondruin leapt and straddled her belly as she struggled to rise. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other two struggling with the wolf, but he had no attention to spare for them. They could handle it. He pulled the dagger from his shoulder with a wince and sheathed it. He heard hoofbeats coming from the forest. He remembered she had a horse back at the inn; she must have called it. Well, it had come too late. He leaned forward and held her arms down so she couldn't hit him any more and hissed, "Stop! I'll kill you if you don't!"
"You're lying!" she cried back, "You'll kill me no matter what I do!"
"I could have killed you before now, if I'd wanted to, but I haven't! I only want to know why you were spying on me."
Frantically, Ollea looked around for help. Khelek was still occupied with Himeleilek and Ozracles, but her horse was standing at the edge of the clearing, watching the action. Get this Man off me! She shouted silently to it. Kick him in the head!
Thorondruin noticed where her attention was directed and saw the horse just in time to scramble out of the way. She grabbed a piece of its harness and scrambled up as it ran into the woods. Khelek saw this and managed to extricate himself from the fight and run after her. The other two seemed inclined to follow, but Thorondruin stopped them. It just wasn't worth it. He flexed his shoulder experimentally. It wasn't as bad as it had seemed at first.

[Cimmerian]

Himelilek grabbed the rabid wolf's tail and swung it around her head like she would her pendulum and slammed it hard on the floor, her elvish strength amazed the barbarian whose left arm bore minor scars where the wolf had gnawed on his steel hard skin. Hefting his mighty battle axe in his right hand he brought it down with tremendous force severing the wolf's head from it's mangy body. Himelilek laughed and flung the headless carcass at the spying elf chick, it's blackend blood spewing all over her.

Ozracles picked up the severed head and threw it high into the air, as it came down he swung his axe again splitting the head in to two. Blood, brains and mucus sprayed all over the slain caravan guard.

"Well, that takes care of the pestilence, let us make the most of this oppoertunity and kill all the fattened merchants." howled the barbarian.

Thorondruin, Himelilek and Ozracles ran howling toward the frightened caravaneers who were deluded into a false security by the wolf and his cohorts. Not a single one was spared, the three rogues covered with blood and sweat, quickly gathered most of the valuables and hurriedly mounted the caravan's horses and set off to toward the inn.

Ooc - We came, we saw, we killed off the nuisances and we looted the caravan. Anyone standing in our way gets run over.

[Susan Delgado]

Singing and laughing cheerilly, the three marauders entered the inn to the stares of everyone present. They looked around at the room and at each other and started laughing again when they saw how covered in gore they were. They went up to the bar and ordered ales, and frightened the serving wench so much she had to go get her father to serve them, and her father was none other than Remdil, the fat innman Thorondruin had chased away so recently. Remdil tried to run away, but Thorondruin, now cheerfully drunk, would have noone of it and insisted that he join them at their table. Too frightened to disobey, Remdil sat and drank with them, and presently was as drunk as any in the room.
"Well, Thor, where to now, tomorrow?" Ozracles asked thickly.
Thorondruin grinned and slapped Himelilek on the back. "Tomorrow, we three are going to Ossi...un. That elf place. With Himi's help. You see," he added in an aside to Ozracles, "She's the only one who knows where we're going."
Ozracles grunted a response into his ale cup and took another drink.
"Where?" Remdil asked to no one in particular.
"Where what?"
Where are we...you....going?"
"He told you already, we're going to Ossiariand...we're going to steal the Silmaril from Beren and Luthien. And Himi knows where it is!" Ozracles came as close to a giggle as any barbarian ever did.
"He didn't tell me," Remdil muttered under his breath.

[Kettle of fish]

Rastus lay on the ground, watching with strange detachment as his blood oozed into his clothing. He realised with strange surprise that he was dying. There comes a clarity before death, and this is what he saw. His eyes, burning in a face white as he began to go into shock, registered towering figures - four or five. And as he succumbed at last to the dark pull, his eyes concentrated on the face of one of them, and a thin sound escaped his lips. "Father..."

[Cimmerian]

The three rogues drank and sang the night away with the blood drying on their tunics and armour.

"A good night's work," cheered the bald barbarian, "Here's to tomorrow."

Himelilek now completely drunk, slurred, " Yeshh..hic... we will go to Ossi..sohee..hic..Ossi whats that plashe...and shteal the shillmaarill.. hic."

"Heh heh..a little too much for the elf," laughed Thorondruin.

"I say thus," said Ozracles, "We take Rimdal with us..or better yet his lovely daughter so he won't get ideas to help anyone who may be after us."

"Excellent Idea," said Thorondruin," We take his girl..ha ha!"

An ale guzzling Rimdal agreed heartily to that suggestion.


Ooc - The victors enjoy the spoils.

[suicidal elf chick]

<<<Hey, I'm in now!>>>

Kalia looked over across the dingy room at a table with drunken people, who obviously needed to shower ( smilies/biggrin.gif ). No matter, she said to herself, finishing her drink and walking over to the bar for another. Just then, one of the people from the table of drunks came over. The reek of beer filled her nostrils and sickened her.

[ July 19, 2002: Message edited by: suicidal elf chick ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion watched the whole scene with a slight smile. He sensed Ollea's fear of him. He started when she was stabbed, but then relaxed.
But when the wolf was killed....right. That was it. If there was one thing he couldn't stand for, it was wof killing. His family had all had pet wolves, it was the family emblem. That was it.
He marched up to the one who had killed the wolf and tapped tem on the shoulder, with one hand clasped on the handle of his dagger.
"Excuse me..."

[Susan Delgado]

Ozracles only tried to brush away the fly that was bothering his shoulder, but Himelilek actually looked at it and saw the missing member of their group. She stumbled to her feet. "Hey!" she exclaimed, "You-whoa-can't come in here, Amak, you can't..you didn't help us kill the carvan, you don't get any of the treasure! Oours!" By this time she was waving her sword around drunkenly, endangering the lives of everyone at the table, including herself. Thorondruin stood up to attempt to restarin her, but couldn't get close to her. Ozracles solved the problem by knocking her feet out from under her. Throndruin quickly grabbed the sword and put it out of her reach.
He squinted blearily at Amanalkarion and said, "I really think you should just leave, we already got our loot." He nodded as if this statement solved the whole problem and returned to his seat.

[Manelwen]

She hadn't felt like this in ages, but it felt good. The ale had gone completely to her head and that was rather dangerous for an elf, but she was rather careless anyways; and always had been since she was old enough to crawl out of her crib. "My mother always...hic....always said that...hic...trouble finds me...." She said slowly, remembering her mother and father, who she left in Avallone.

Happily she began to sing, swaying in her seat;
Ní bíad eigredd in cach dú;
ní bíad geimred gáethmar glé;
ní bíad iffern; Ní bíad brón;
ní bíad oman, minbad mé.

The men that sat around the table listened quietly to the elf as she sang, her voice low but sweet and not a note slipped, dispite her drunkeness. "What's that mean?" Grunted Orzacles.

"There would be no ice...in any place...there would be no glistening windy winter...there would be no hell...there would be no sorrow...there would be no fear...were it not for me..." She recited the poem in the common tongue, but it sounded less sweet and all the men lowered their eyes to their ale cups. "I heard it a long time ago...but it matters not where it comes from..." Her smile was warm and normal and it made Thorondruin startle, "It suits me doesn't it?"

With a wolfish grin of his own, Orzacles nodded, "I think so, and it suits you too." Her grin transformed, loosing its beauty as it turned into a leering grin, her white skin flushed scarlet as she reached over and roughly clapped the warrior on the shoulder. "Good!"

OOC. The song is called 'I am Eve' and I found it on the 'Midiæval Bæbes' CD called 'The Rose'. The song is Irish Gaelic but I find that Gaelic is a lyrical dialect that all elfish language is based off of.

[tangerine]

The grey horse set a fast pace, taking Ollea deep within the forest. Eventually they came to a stop. The wound in her leg was already closing, and she would be able to walk semi-comfortably within a few hours.
Something still felt wrong...her sword! it was still back there, she hadn't time nor mind enough to retrieve it. She couldn't very well leave it, it was her lifeline.
She turned the horse around. They were probably gone by now anyway. Nevertheless she unslung her bow.
She jumped down up reaching the clearing, wincing. At least they had left her sword alone. How strange, but lucky. She looked around cautiously, and gave a strangled cry when she happened upon the corpse of the white wolf. He was defending me, she thought. He had paid dearly for it. Just like there were planning to make that caravan pay...
The caravan! if they had got to Khelek, there would have been no one to warn them. was there anyone left? The thought of this was enough the make her feel ill, but she had to know.

Ooc: c'mon Cimm, the game's no fun if you have NO opposition...

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles scooped the light headed elf up on his massive arms and said, "It's time we put this one to bed, before she hurts her pretty little self."

The elf smiled and slurred,"My handshum bald barbarian..hic..will take care of me..hic."

"Heh heh..surely I will," leered the barbarian and to his surprise the abreviated Himelilek placed her arms around his thick neck and kissed him full on the lips. Ozracles, rather taken aback, smiled stupidly but before he could return the favour, the elf had already passed out.

Thorondruin grinned and said, "Tuck her into one of the beds upstairs... Remdil wouldn't mind. Would you, Rem?

The innkeeper shook his head, drunk and dazed he wouldn't disagree with anything.

Ozracles went ahead with his task and soon plodded down to the bar again, he was not going to let Thorondruin out of his sight now that they had such amounts of riches to devide amongst them, but greater treasures were yet to come.

[Susan Delgado]

<glarg! I wrote a big long entry that didn't post. Let's see if I can recall it....>

By the time he'd had returned to the table, Thorondruin had also passed out and Remdil was doing little more than blinking dopely. Ozracles considered this scene carefully before shrugging and sitting down to another cup of ale.
The serving wench had finally noticed what was going on at their table and now she stalked up to it and shook Remdil roughly by the shoulder. "Father!" she exclaimed, "What are doing sitting here drinking? And with these ruffians! You're supposed to be on duty!" She hauled him up by the arm and beforre Ozracles could formulate a protest, she'd dragged him off to the back room of the inn.

<That'll have to do>

[suicidal elf chick]

Deciding against another beer, Kalia walked out of the inn, bumping into someone. Who it was, she could not see, for it was dark. <<<Someone, bump into me!>>>

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dinen came storming into the Inn, bumping into someone in the dimly lit entrance.She saw Thorondruin and Ozracles at the bar and swung up on a bar stool next to them.
"Sorry, I had a bit of trouble with a merchant deciding to flee into the forest whom I had to deal with." she ordered an ale and took a long sip. "He ran fast for someone with such a large size."
Both Thorondruin and Ozracles looked surprised and suspiscious.
"You were there? We assumed you had bailed on us."
"Never assume anything. I did as much as you did, if a bit...cleaner. If you can't see me, neither can they. And I haven't been a theif for eight years to get seen by a bunch of fat merchants." she snapped.

[ July 20, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin had raised his head sleepily when Dinenliel sat down. He frowned a little, thinking Now, where'd that innman go?
He heard Dineniel's explanation for her absence, but was too sleepy and too drunk to figure how her story fit into his memories of the fight. Abruptly he stood (a little too fast; he fell back into his chair and tried again more carefully) and announced he was going to bed. Ozracles laughed and warned him to stay out of Himelilek's room. Thorondruin shrugged and walked away.

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles grabbed Dinenliel by the tunic and snarled into her face, "That's right.... where were you when we attacked those merchant caravaners, eh?"

Dinenliel turned her face away from the barbarian's ale drenched breath and spat, "You were too busy carving up wolf scum to notice anything else, barbarian."

"Really," slurred Ozracles, "And where is the fat merchant that you cailm to have given chase to? For we killed every one of those lap dogs..."

Dinenliel smiled, "My dear deluded degenerate, the one I chased can be found gutted and hung where I left him, unless the wild animals have anything to say about that."

"Hah! I wager that not a bone of him will be found where you claim to have left him, but never mind, there are other ways for you to win back favour in my trust." grinned the bald barbarian placing his hand on her slender waist.

Dineniel smiled sweetly and even though every fibre in her body longed to hack off that probing grasp, she knew that for now she had to play along. She grabbed his large paw and placed it upon her shoulder and then slipped her hand around his thick trunk of a waist and raised a mug of ale.

"To our endevour and that it may be a resounding success." she called out.

"Hear! Hear!" guffawed the barbarian raising his own flagon of the intoxicant.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion was still furious, but had to hold it in until he found something to take his anger out on. He ran past the inn door, but banged slap into someone. The fury of himself and of Namien burst out and he grabbed the staranger by the throat. He just managed to control himself, and let go.
"Would you watch where you're going," he said roughly.
The person simply lifted their chin and stared at him defiantly. There was something in that stare that he recognised.....
"Kalia!" he gasped.

[Susan Delgado]

On his way back to his room, Thorondruin realised he shouldn't leave the loot unguarded all night, so he made a side trip to get it fom the stable. When he made it back to his room, he looked at the sacks dubiously, unsure where it would be really safe. Finally, he slipped them under his pillow and blankets and in this way spent a secure, if less than comfortable, night.

[ July 22, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Lady Death]

Since her father was too drunk to work any further, Livia decided to clean up and close the Bar for the night. She eyed the huge, evil looking man in fear and pitied his elvish companion. But she siently carried on her work, doing her best not to get anyone's undesired attention.
She also observed the other mean looking man carrying large sacks and bundles with him upstairs to his room. She didn't like the looks of these people and wished that they would soon leave her father's inn.

00C - I didn't know who Belin is so I wrote myself in, if it's a prob, I can edit my post.

[suicidal elf chick]

<<<Greetings from Oregon!>>>

Kalia stared in surprise at Amanalkarion as she dusted herself off.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion reposted his usual blank look, heavy eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a straight line.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. Kalia pushed him.
"You shouldn't answer a question with a question." she said airily.
"I am following a band of-well, I'm not sure what they are, but guess who's here. Ollea! Ollea Firestorm. Valarindi."
Kalia gasped.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, I've spoken to her myself. What do you take me for?" Amanalk growled. He did not like being doubted.
"Besides, she was the only one who didn't blink an eyelid when I told of my true heritage."

[suicidal elf chick]

"Well then, where is she? I was just taking a break from traveling. I take you for someone with an incredible past. Might I be able to come with you?" Kalia asked, answering his quesions and asking a couple of her own. "I think I saw the ones you are looking for. But I don't know, they're just suspicious to me. They were drunk out of thir minds. And I think one is a psychopath. Help any? And I ask you again. Can I join you?" she added with a serious look on her face and a business-like tone to her voice. She stared straight at him, trying to see what decision he would come to.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion kept staring, trying to get her to look away.
"You can join me." he said. "But I wouldn't advise you to join them." He stretched out his long arm in the direction of the inn. "Ollea is inside. I had to show them what I can do. Gypsy elf indeed. And you know perfectly well of my past. How long is it we've been friends now?"
Kalia smirked. "More like partners in crime."

[Cimmerian]

Loosing interest in the cold elf maid, Ozracles swaggered over to the bar counter and held up two fingers at the nubile young barmaid. She looked at him aprehensively and said in a soft, timid voice, "The bar is closed, sir."

The barbarian raised both eyebrows and bellowed, " Closed? What do you mean, wench?"

"I mean..er .." she stammered.

"The bar will close when I am no longer in need of drink," slurred Ozracles, "Now hand me my ale."

The girl meekily poured out another flagon and came around to place it infront of the leering barbarian. As she was about to leave, he grabbed her. Holding her close to him as she struggled in vain, he said, "Hello, my pretty. You are coming with us tomorrow on a little trip...bring some of the finest ale you have with you then..."

"What?" she gasped, fear etched across her pretty face.

"Oh yes," snarled Ozracles, "You are our little guarantee that your father does not get any ideas.... while we are gone."

His face close to hers when he spoke, his breath reeked of the ale he had been guzzling the past few hours. She tried to wrest free of his grasp but he was too strong for her. She looked around pleadingly at the others in the bar, but alas no one looked back, some were too terrified to interfere while others slept off the ale they had drunk. The bald behemoth guzzled his ale and laughed aloud.

Ooc - Livia(Lady D) - your cue... heh heh

[tangerine]

Ollea had made it to the campsite, but the barbarians had remained true to their word, sparing no one. With a heavy heart, she turned back in the diection of the inn.
This time she took no chances to be seen. She dismounted her horse in the forest, wincing slightly as her bad leg bore her weight briefly. At least it wasn't as bad as it was a few hours ago, and she could almost walk comfortably, with only a slight limp. Pulling her cloak closely around her, she broke into an empty room on the first floor. If she were still to follow these people they must not see her...or at least recognize her. At least she had kept heself concealed within her cloak most of the time, but they knew her face now, and would be on the alert.
Well at least I might rest here until morning, she thought, but bark out a harsh and mirthless laugh as she glanced out the window through which she had entered. The sky in the east was lightening already, with dawn perhaps an hour away, not likely more.
The room was near the entrance, and she opened the door a crack to see if any of the band was still awake. Ozracles was harassing a young barmaid, which was hardly surprising; Dinenliel was sitting-or sleeping- at a table, blind drunk. Himelilek was nowhere to be seen, but Ollea guessed that she might be sleeping off however much ale she had drunk. Knowing Himelilek, that would likely be quite alot.
Amanalkarion was talking to someone standing just beyond the inn door. She did not recognized the other on sight, but he heard him call her 'Kalia'. Ollea had never met this Kalia, but her reputation preceded her, and she had heard tales of the dealings of Kalia. They didn't seem inclined to partake in the company in the band, and that was a small comfort.
That was before Ollea heard him say that she was inside. She closed the door quickly before relaxing slightly. "Of course," she murmered to herself, smiling wryly.

[suicidal elf chick]

Kalia stared back with interest in this information. But, why shouldn't she join the others? Aside from the fact that she hated drunken people.
"Tell me. Why shouldn't I join theose other people?" she asked, thinking about what would happen if she went with Amanalk instead of the others. They had been talking of something, yes, loot, that they had stolen, and where would loot be obtained if she went with him? Oh well. Might be worth it if I stick with Amanalk, she thought, waiting for a reply.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion shrugged.
"They are unsavoury characters...not our type of people."

[suicidal elf chick]

"Ah, makes sense. So who else is with you?" Kalia asked.

[Halbereth Diagona]

"With me, or that bunch of.....hemhem."

[tangerine]

Ollea watched the conversation from her crack in the door with interest. Maybe I have some allies in this after all, she thought.

[ July 24, 2002: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalkarion sensed he was being watched. He quickly shot a jet of water at the doorway, where two eyes were glaring through. A spluttering noise came from inside. He went straight over and pulled out Ollea.
Amanalk had that look in his eyes that said ' You fool.' He looked as if he were laughing at you. Ollea pulled away indignantly.
"Well well. We were just talking about you." he said softly.
"I know." replied Ollea, jutting her chin out and sticking her nose in the air.

[suicidal elf chick]

"I'll come with you, Amanalk," Kalia replied.

[Halbereth Diagona]

"Very well," answered Amanalk, not taking his eyes off Ollea.

[tangerine]

Ollea looked closely at Amanalk, trying to percieve what was going on behind that proud brow. "What are you doing here?" She asked in a low voice. Amanalk smirked down at her. "I could ask the same of you."
She glanced over at the drunken Ozracles, still too distracted with his ale and the barmaid to notice the commotion. She shook her head disgustedly. "Look. Whatever you're planning to do here, I need to stay out of sight of them. I don't need any more injuries on top of what I already have." Realization struck suddenly like a hammer. "Was it the wolf? Khelek? Is that why you came?"

[Halbereth Diagona]

> tangerine, I like you, will you please join my rpg?<

"Well..." Amanalkarion was suddenly alert.
"Which injuries?" he asked. Ollea showed him her mangled leg. Amanalk ran a finger down ot. His touch was cold, but the wounds healed immediatly.
"There."

[Manelwen]

Opening her eyes, she groaned as the light penetrated what felt like were orbs of goo. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, grimacing when she realized that her gauntlets were still on and they scratched at the bridge of her nose. Looking down, the grimace deepened the lines on her smooth face as she realized that her armor was still on. She must have drank too much and then was deposited on the bed after someone realized she would be in the way when unconscious.

She heaved a great sigh and threw the gauntlets off of her hands and then the armor went next, into a pile on the bed, along with her cloak, soft leather boots, her weapon and an empty tankard that wasn't pried from her hands when she slipped into her drunken stupor. The elf felt slightly humiliated because of her behavior, so unbefitting an elf, but with a shrug the thoughts were banished as quickly as they came.

She stood in her light cotton tunic and leggings and crossed lazily over to a bowl that sat on the table, full of steaming hot water. A wash cloth and a bar of lye soap sat beside it in a neat pile. Himelilek quickly washed, scrubbing the grime from her face until her skin was bright pink from the rough cloth.

After her grooming, she sat on the bed, pulling her long fingers through her hair, wincing as the snags were ruthlessly torn and worked at. Finally, she rebraided it and threw it back and began to dress. She hadn't even finished getting on her boots when there was a loud knock at the door. In alarm and by sheer habit, she picked her knife up and tossed it in the general direction of the noise. Laughing at herself, she pulled the knife but it didn't dislodge itself from the thick wooden planks, but pulled the door open. There stood Orzacles with a leering grin on his face that Himelilek only met by one of her own. "Is that the way you always open a door?" his gruff voice asked.

She grunted and yanked again, the knife falling loose onto the floor. Himelilek hauled it in by the chain like catching a fish, neatly hanging it from a hook on her wide leather belt. "What do you want?" She grumbled, her headache suddenly throbbing in beat with the barbarian's footfalls.

"We are leaving soon." he said, eyeing her shrewdly.

Standing, she looked down at him with her cool eyes, her face twisted in an ugly smile. "Fine. To the silmaril, we go." She said happily, nothing short of skipping from the room, following after the grim men.

Sorry, if I stepped on your toes, Susan. I couldn't think of any other reason they could go and see Himelilek and she isn't going to be passed out all night or the whole RPG...

[Susan Delgado]

OOC: Is this "What with one thing and another, the whole night passed"? It's fine. I was going to do something silmilar anyway.

As Thorondruin waited for Ozracles to return with Himelilek, he peered around at the empty room. It was the hour before dawn, and there were sleeping bodies lying here and there on the floor and at the tables. He grimaced in distaste as someone rolled over onto his foot. The man stank.
He noticed the wench over in the corner, trying not to be noticed. With an eager leer, he strolled over and grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. She shrank away from him. hmm, he thought Ozracles has been at this one, I'd wager.
"Well, where's that innman, Remdil?"
She sniffled. "My father's-"
"Father? Even better! Where?" He shook her where she stood, but she only trembled. The thought of going with these men was terrifying to her.
Thorondruin began to become angry. He lifted her by the shoulders and shouted into her face, "When I ask a question, I expect an answer, [ME equivalent to female dog]! Now where is he?"
A new voice broke in. "Hai! What are you doing to her!"
Recognising the voice, Thorondruin dropped the wench and turned to face Remdil. "Why, looking for you," Thorondruin sneered in an oily voice. "I thought we might need a captive. It was going to be you, but I think the girl will be much, much better."
Remdil was staring at him in shock. He was trying to remember how many men had been in that cabin. Was it three, or four? With a shout of, "You're not taking her anywhere!", he dove in front of Livia, trying to protect her, but Thorondruin easily pushed him aside and grabbed the girl and started toward the door. Halfway there, he turned and added, "Oh, and if I get any hint of pursuit, she dies." He went to join Ozracles and Himelilek where they waited by the door. Remdil was still kneeling on the floor where Thorndruin had shoved him. He heard a desparing cry of "Father...!" as they vanished from sight, and all he could do was watch.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc - I was hoping for a response from Lady D, but hey.. the game must go on.

Ozracles grinned at the girl Thorondruin dragged behind him, she looked away in hate and disgust.
"There is much more to gain from that fiesty little one," he laughed into Himelilek's now radiant face.
The elf smiled nonchalantly and looked away disinterestedly.
The bald barbarian laughed aloud and mounted one of the stolen horses. There were six animals and four of them were burdened with the spoils of the night before.
Ozracles and Himelilek shared one while Thorondruin held on to the girl Livia on the other.
The party of brigands rode out into the early morning light.

[Belin]

Remdil's head was still pounding, and he'd spent the night feeling resentful and ill-used. They'd called him Rimdal, made a terrible mess (which he didn't suppose he'd be exempted from having to clean) frightened away most if not all of the other guests, and only paid about half the bill. Besides, they were unforgivably rude, and stared at him the same way that self-possessed, clever merchants did when they thought they could hoodwink him.

Now he was enraged. There was no doubt in his mind that they fully intended to kill Livia, and Thoronduil's threat fell on deaf ears. He stood very, very still for a moment, allowing his resolve to gather.

He walked to the doorway and, standing unseen, watched them leave. Northeast they rode, laughing uproariously at some unheard and doubtless vulgar joke of Himelilek's, toward Neniant.

He'd seen their plunder. With the lack of taste typical of travelers, they'd taken a great deal of gold and enough jewelry to deck out all their elf-women as queens, but very little of anything useful. The inn was still well-stocked with food and blankets, which they were sure to notice and need. They would stop at Neniant, oh, yes, they would.

Remdil stumbled out into the sunlight, blinking. The watch was far more efficient than it seemed, and kept much better horses than visitors at the inn, and, as he remembered, so did that of Neniant.

He knew just where to find Gondeithel at this time of morning.

<<OOC: Neniant means "Bridgewater" (a tiny joke of mine), so please remember that there is a river in that town. >>

[ July 25, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin was very pleased with the way things had turned out. The wench ought to good for hours of sport, and the thought of it made him laugh eagerly. At the sound, he felt Livia trembling, na dhe held her tighter. She didn't know for exactly what purpose she'd been kidnapped, but she knew it boded no good for her, and she had an idea it wasn't just as a hostage. She rode along on the horse's withers and thought about all she knew of men (not very much; she was young yet) and she thought of the evil sound of the man's laughter, and suddenly she knew. She knew why they'd thought she would be better to take than her father. She couldn't take it. With a sudden scream, she dove off the horse and into the bushes on the side of the road. She rolled as she landed and came up on her back. Thorondruin was quick to pursue and when he caught up to her, he pinned her down and said, softly "Not so fast, little girl. I'll not have you leaving with what I want."
Ozracles and Himelilek had noticed the commotion and as they ran up to see what was going on, Thorondruin dragged the girl back to his horse.

I couldn't. The muse wanted it, but I couldn't keep it. I'm sorry for anyone who had to read it. smilies/frown.gif

[ July 28, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

"You'd best handle that little one with more care, Thor," laughed Ozracles, "She is our guarantee for this little excursion."

"I know, you oaf," said Thorondruin, "She tried to escape."

"Oho, A fiesty little one," smirked Himelilek, "You must remind me to punish her once her usefulness to us is at an end."

"Aye, and I will too," said Ozracles, slapping the elf on the back.

Ooc - I thought so too, Susan....it got a bit too gritty then.

[Susan Delgado]

As they rode along the trail, Himelilek observed that they'd left the town in to much of a hurry to buy supplies.
"There's another town about ten miles up the road. We could go there," She said.
Throndruin though about this a while. "No," he said, "I'm tired of hanging around in towns. We should keep going toward Ossiriand. We'll find some farm along the way and get food there. Anyway, it would be hard to explain this girl in any town."
Ozracles and Himeleilek nodded in agreement.

[tangerine]

The three of them- Kalia, Amanlkarion and Ollea- had drawn into the shadows of a tucked-away corner when the troup, hung over yet filled with maniac energy, left the inn with their young captive. The girl's father, seething with rage, came after them moments later after recovering from his shock. Ollea could see that desperate pieces of some plan were coming together in this man's mind to recover his child, and he would likely stop for no one. They let hiim go, unmolested by their prodding words. It was just as well. He would not have listened to them in his state of mind.
She turned to Amanalk. The first real rays of sunlight were coming from a nearby window, making his dark red hair burn with a dull fire. "I mean to follow them," She said clearly. "I do not mean to be seen. I do not even know if they will make it to Ossiriand, but if they do, I must do something. You do what you like." Her face a mask, she rose from to table where the three were seated and walked to the door. Once outside, she gave a low whistle, a summons to her horse in the forest, and waited.

[ August 01, 2002: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[suicidal elf chick]

Kalia followed Ollea.
"I wish to come too," she said, whistling for her horse. She stuck her head into the bar and looked at Amanalk. "Are you going to come?"

[Cimmerian]

"We can get our food from the farmlands," announced Thorondruin.

The bald barbarian grunted, "There is plenty of food we can hunt for."

The captive girl sat meekly on the horse and thought that whatever food the barbarian hunted would be as repulsive as these three vile creatures she was forced to accompany.

Then suddenly Himelilek stiffened, her heightened elvish senses detected something. "I think we are being watched or followed," she said.

"Whoever that may be, we will deal with them in the manner that suits all spies." snarled Thorondruin and Ozracles laughed as he emptied the last drops of stale wine from his waterskin into his thirsting mouth.

[ August 02, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalk turned his face eastwards, towards the rising sun.
"Yes." he answred.

[tangerine]

As Ollea watched her horse come bursting out of the forest, the other two stepped outside the door of the inn, standing by her side. A smile cast its lightest touch upon her lips, and she glanced at her new companions briefly. As much as she was trying to make it look like she could take their company or leave it, it was far safer to travel across open and possibly hostile territory in numbers rather than alone, and she was inwardly grateful for the company.
The gray stallion approached her, and she mounted it, riding bareback. Then turned her eyes to Kalia and Amanlkarion.

< I'm gonna be gone until the 15th or 16th. Try not to kill off my character, anything else you do is fine by me, as long as I can get back in when I get back. Later!>

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalk saddled his great purple horse- well, got on its back. There was no saddle.
Amanalk followed the group at a slow canter. They could still see glimpses of them on the horizon. Amanalkarion broke into a gallop, not waiting for the girls to catch up. Then, quite suddenly and for no apparent reason, he turned off the road they were following, and galloped that way.
"Where are you going?" Ollea gasped when she finally caught up.
"We cannot follow them, they will suspect something." Amanalkarion replied without looking at her.

[suicidal elf chick]

>Sorry, short posts today<

Kalia looked at Ollea and shrugged. Kicking her heels into her black stallion's sides, she galloped after Amanalkarion.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Amanalk galloped away, still making sure to keep a reasonable distance behind the other troup. He recalled Heimlilek's words...You don't know anything about anything...Gypsy elf. Then he remembered how he had gotten his revenge. Taking a shot, he blasted a tree with fire. His powers were fine. Then he bent closer to the neck of his horse.
>reviving a brilliant but kinda dead RPG<

[Phoenix Solitude]

Please look at this RPGs discussion board. Thanks, Phoenix. I will delete this post when I am rejected or approved.

[Susan Delgado]

As they rode on, Thorondruin continued to listen to the rustling sounds. They were definitely being followed; the sounds were sometimes behind and sometimes ahead, but they were always there. After an hour of this, he called a halt for a meal, loudly anouncing the fact. Ozracles and Himelilek looked at him like he was insane-they had few supplies and had already agreed not to stop-but they obligingly halted and dismounted, watching to see what he wanted. Thorondruin stayed on his horse, listening as the following sounds gradually quieted down in a thicket on the north side of the clearing. By this time, the others had an idea why he'd had them stop and when he gestured them toward the clearing, they knew what to do. Himelilek circled around in front to flush the stranger out while Ozracles went behind. Himelilek walked straight toward the thicket and when the man panicked and tried to flee, Ozracles leapt out of hiding and caught him around the waist. Ozracles dragged him, kicking and screaming, before Thorondruin. After ten minutes and several irritated cuffs from Ozracles, the stranger had calmed down enough to stand still.
He was young and very thin, and looked (and smelled) as though he hadn't bathed in far too long. His clothes were in rags, and despite the defiance with which he stared up at Thorondruin, Thor sensed that he was very frightened. He decided to move somewhat carefully.
"All right, who are you? Why were you following us?"
The man said nothing, only continued to stare, but Thorondruin knew from his look that he wouldn't be able to tolerate the silence and he was content to wait for a response. Eventually he got one: the man muttered something to his feet, which were all but bare. Oz cuffed the back of his neck and growled, "Speak up!"
He gave Oz a hateful look and spoke a little more loudly. "My name's Carathon. I followed you because you looked like you might have food."
Torondruin considered this. He glanced around at the others to judge their reactions as well. Oz looked understandably annoyed, but Himelilek was staring at the stranger consideringly. "Well, Himelilek, what do you think?"
She nodded slightly as if coming to a decision and turned to face Thor where he still sat his horse. "We could always use someone to do the chores."
"Ahh...our chores, I take it? We certainly could at that." He laughed a little, not in amusement, and Carathon gave him a wary look.
"Very well!" Thor continued, "Himelilek, give him some of that dried meat you have." While she turned to her saddlebags to get the meat, Thorondruin turned to Oz. "Well, are you willing to carry him on your horse until we can get him one of his own?"
Oz grinned and gave the newcomer a friendly clout on the back that nearly knocked him off his feet. "Absolutely!" Oz exclaimed, "Happy to!"
Thorondruin laughed, a real laugh this time, and gestured for everyone to mount up. As they rode away, he considered ways he could use the new man. Yes, he could definitley be useful.

[ September 04, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

Just as Carathon struggled to mount Ozracles's tall stallion, the barbarian nudged the animal forward, causing the new man to fall flat on his face onto the muddy floor. Carathon sat up, spluttering and cursing as Ozracles laughed.

"I'd much rather have her seated with me," he said, pointing at the captive girl, behind Thorondruin's mount. "When this maggot has rid himself of his foul stench and rags, he may ride with me... or else he can run behind us."

With that the barbarian kicked at the young man, who fell flat again trying to avoid the blow. With a roar of raucous laughter, Ozracles rode off toward Himelilek, who also shared his amusement as Thorondruin shook his head.

"Run along behind us, Carathon," he said, "until you find yourself a horse."

The young man's shoulders slumped as he fell in step behind the rouges.

[Phoenix Solitude]

Everyone's being mean to me!! But Cimmerian and Susan you are both really exellent role players! Talk about getting into a character!

Carathon dragged his feet slowly through the mud and wet. He had wolfed down the meat so quickly that his empty stomach felt painful when he breathed. His wole body trembled in the cold, and he weaved from side to side, disorientated from hunger and cold. In his naive and starved mind he had notions that these people were not good, but they had food, and they would give it to him. If he was good. He murmed it to himself that he may not forget.
"I must be good...I must be good." He could remember the other people who he had helped. They did not feed him. He had stolen food and been beaten for it. Their scathing words rang in his ears.
"Bad, very bad"
The words were punctuated with slaps. He could feel them still, landing hard on his bruised back, shoulders shuddering.
"Bad, bad, bad"
The slaps were hard, biting...real...
Ozracles was slapping his scruffy head.
"Keep up scum, or you'll be left here."
Then he rode off, head held proudly.
Carathon felt the cold and shivered. A thin rain began to fall.

[ September 04, 2002: Message edited by: Phoenix Solitude ]

[Belin]

Gondeithel, head of the watch, looked busy, in spite of the fact that was leaning against the well outside his house as Remdil came up. It was a gift. The man could have been taking a nap in sun and he'd still have given the impression that he had no time for you today, or most likely tomorrow either. At the moment, however, he was aided in this by a large book of records, at which he frowned intently. He utterly failed to look at Remdil.

"No, no, this makes no sense," he muttered, pushing his longish, neglected locks out of his face. "Idiot war."

Remdil cleared his throat.

"Idiot forces of evil," continued Gondeithel, still addressing himself to the book.

"Gondeithel--" Remdil started.

"Stupid useless bands of moronic maurading brigands, who do they think they are?" growled Gondeithel.

"Yes! Yes, exactly!" cried Remdil.

Gondeithel's head suddenly moved, and he directed a piercing and rather unfriendly gaze at Remdil. He did not glower-- Remdil's agreement had mollified him slightly-- but all the same, Remdil's unabashed return of his glare was impressive.

"Do you need something?" Gondeithel asked. His tone was perfectly even, not insulting at all, not unless you knew that this was the tone he used when choosing not to insult people he considered beneath his notice.

"Would I be talking to you if I didn't?" Gondeithel nodded slightly, as if in his mind the comment had already turned to his advantage. Remdil sighed heavily (his best attempt at sarcasm). "Look, it's brigands."

"Ah?"

I wonder if I would win a fistfight. "Yes, there was a huge gang of them in the inn last night.. the last two nights in a row, actually, and they..." Gondeithel's cool stare was not making things any easier. Remdil looked at the ground. "They took Livia. I need you to send some messengers to Neniant; I'm sure they'll be going there. And the Neniant watch--"

"Has its hands full. Much like me. Are you telling me that we now have kidnapping stupid useless bands of moronic maurading brigands? I would have thought the killing and plundering would keep them busy enough."

"No,no, they wanted to..." Remdil sorted hopelessly through his fuzzy memories of the night before. Nothing. All he knew was that somehow this was his fault. "... I think I got in their way."

"By yourself? You're a fool, Remdil."

Yes, yes, I am. "But she can be rescued yet. They have to go to Neniant, they have no food, and if we can save her... is this your post or not?"

"Is Neniant my post? Certainly not. I can't spare anybody. Three members of the watch were plenty of us before the war, for all the good that does us now, but now that insanity runs loose in the world and ruffians run loose in Garolin and, Remdil, wasn't somebody killed the other night?"

"Um... oh. Yes. Yes, that's right, they killed him too. Are you going to let this kind of chaos break out?"

Gondeithel laughed suddenly. "I don't plan to. Which is why I can't spare anybody." Something seemed to register with him, too late. "Livia? I'm sorry about that, Remdil." He meant it, too. Remdil could see the slight softening of some of the lines in the man's face.

"Look, she's alive. Or I think she is.."

"If they've taken to kidnapping we can't have this town unguarded. But.. well, why don't you go? I'm sure you'd prefer it to waiting for us to come back anyway."

"But Eolinda..."

Gondeithel gave a short laugh. "And what I've to deal with here is about thirty Eolindas. And I'm hearing all kinds of things.. orcs, evil spirits.. there was a man here the other day who claimed he'd seen a laughing giant of greatest beauty, but he must have been deranged. In any case, strange things are happening. I need to be here. But I'll lend you a horse."

"Gondeithel... don't you... hm. Thank you. Really."

Gondeithel inclined his head slightly and watched Remdil walk away in the general direction of the stables before turning back to his book. "Idiot war," he muttered savagely.

[ September 05, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

"Ooh, I'll teach them to leave without ME!" Dineniel muttered. "Think they can get it by themselves? They haven't got a proper thief among them, and not enough thugs to make up for that in brute force. And they're not going to get the Silmaril, either." she huffed.
"OK, first things first, I'm going to need another horse..." She headed to the Inn's stable and glanced around.
Hmm... she thought. I'll take...That one!
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and moments later exited the stable leading a nondescript grey.
I'm going to need some provisions...water first, I'll go 'shopping' on the way out of town
She rode up to a well and noticed someone she didn't exactly want to see standing by the well.
Argh! It's that innkeeper fellow! She jumped on the horse and galloped back in the opposite direction, not sure if she had been seen.

[ September 08, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

As the afternoon wore on, Carathon fell further and further behind the horses, sometimes being out of sight for minutes at a time. At last, with an irritated sigh, Thorondruin signalled a halt.

"Let's make camp here. Himelilek, will you go and find that boy? He's disappeared. Oz, help me gather firewood. I wonder if Carathon can cook?" This last was an aside to himself as he considered ways the boy might be useful.
Ozracles was offended. "Firewood?? You want me to gather-" He broke off at the look on Thorondruin's face "All right, all right," He muttered.
They two gathered sticks and piled them while they waited for Himelilek to return. Eventually she did, but without Carathon. She shrugged at Thorondruin's questioning look.
"I didn't see him. I did find this, though," And she indicated a second horse being led behind her own. "Oh, and this, too." She handed Thorondruin a sack. Looking in, he discovered some food and quite a lot of money. He looked up at her with a grin.
"'Found it', eh? Excellent work." She smiled in return.

There was a disturbance among the horses. Looking, Thorondruin discerned the cause. "Ah, Carathon! Returned at last! Have some more meat!" He tossed a chunk at him, but Carathon fumbled in trying to catch it and it fell into the mud. Starving as he was, he ate it anyway, causing Ozracles to laugh again.

"Tell me, boy, do you cook?" Thorondruin asked in a mock-fatherly tone. Carathon gave him such a miserable look that Thorondruin took a step back. He was unaccustomed to seeing such expressions. He turned away, muttering, "Well, eat the meat, anyway," Then turned back and added, "Hithduiniel has gotten you a horse. There it is."

Carathon looked around suspiciously, wondering where the Elf would have gotten a horse in the middle of the woods, but decided it might be a better idea not to ask. These seemed like hard folk and he might not like the answer.

They all settled down for the night. No one did the cooking; they all ended up eating dried meat. Himelilek and Ozracles gave him questioning looks, but Thorondruin ignored them. He was a little ashamed at his own weakness in dealing with the boy and didn't want to deal with the others' judgement of him as well.

[ September 08, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Belin]

In fact, Remdil was preoccupied, and thought nothing of the grey mare careening by in an absolutely careless and inappropriate manner, but someone else did. The smith, Battadan, rushed from his room (he had quarreled with his wife the day before, and had needed a place to sleep) and whistled to the horse, who stopped, perplexed, and gently ignored all urgings from her panicked rider. Dineniel sighed inwardly, stopped kicking the horse, and put on her most friendly and trustworthy smile for the man. "Yes?" she asked sweetly.

Maybe it would have worked. It had worked before. But Battadan hadn't yet finshed with his series of indignant throat-clearings (he was extraordinarily loquacious, but he always had to work himself up to it) when Remdil returned, leading a horse that made the Elf's eyes widen involuntarily with admiration, in spite of her chagrin.

He stood still for a moment, taken aback. So..one of the thieves was there still, was she? Better and better. Suddenly businesslike, he turned to his red-faced client.

"Good morning!" he said politely. "How was your night?"

"My night, indeed!" sputtered Battadan. "What about my horse?"

It was his wife's horse really, and he saw his plan of reconciliation crumbling before his eyes.

"She looks well, doesn't she? Razawyn, how is she doing? Any limps?"

Dineniel, distracted by a half baked plan to ride off as quickly as possible as soon as anyone looked away, took a moment to realize that by Razawyn, he meant her. "No, none at all," she answered truthfully, doing her best to keep her expression inscrutable.

Battadan now included Remdil in his suspicious glare. "Doubtless," he said dryly, "but the question remains, how did my mare aquire such a treasure as a Razawyn? I'm sure I've never seen one like it near her before, and I must say that my notion is, we were quite well off without."

Dineniel bristled. Remdil grinned. "You paid good money to stable your horse here, did you not? Did you imagine we'd simply keep her standing here, rotting her hooves, as likely as not?" Remdil knew almost nothing about horses, and he suspected that the smith knew a good deal, but perhaps he could brazen this out. "We exercise them all every day now, you know."

Battadan snorted. "You mean to say that this girl is one of your grooms?" he asked scornfully, glancing at the girl in question, who looked nothing like a groom.

"My cousin, Razawyn, come to learn the trade. Do you remember my cousin Tharniran?"

"No."

"Well, this is his daughter, come back to town, since my uncle never found anyone to take over the inn, and he grows old, you know, Battadan."

Battadan ran an eye over Dineniel's elven beauty. "Your cousin."

"Yes." Remdil stared back at the smith, not giving way. Eventually the other sighed.

"Just give me back my horse."

"With pleasure. Razawyn!"

Dineniel reluctantly slid off the horse, and stood next to Remdil. "I'm not your cousin," she whispered indignantly.

"Of course you are. Now shut up," answered Remdil, seizing her by the arm and leading her back into the inn, only pausing to let the vastly amused groom take his horse. A thief to catch a thief, as they said.

[Rosseiliantiel]

'Razawyn' was thoroughly confuddled.

"Ah, erm, thank you and all, but I'll just be going now, then..."
"No, you won't. I beleive there is someting you can help me with."
"Ummm...I give up. Enlighten me."

They entered the Inn, Remdil hauling Dineniel down a corridor into his 'office'(more furinished closet then office), a small room on the ground floor. He deposited her in a chair and sat down across from her.
"Down to buisness; which way did your friends go?"
"Whyyyyyy?"
"They took my daughter with them."
"Oh! Um, I'm sorry..." That's my replacement, an Innman's daughter. Great.
"No, you're not, but that's beyond the point. Now where did they go?"

[Susan Delgado]

Remdil and Dineniel's conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a sharp-eyed woman of no great beauty but whose face was lined with years of care and experience. It was a strong face, and full of character. At the moment, it was also filled with a towering rage. Both Remdil and Dinenial recoiled at her entrance.

"Eolinda, what-" Remdil's voice was near panic and he moved to put the table between them. He had experienced his wife's anger in the past and always did his utmost avoid her then. He loved Eolinda, but in the deep places of his soul, places he wasn't quite aware of even after twenty years of marriage, she terrified him.
"Where is she?"
"Who?-"
She overrode him. "Where is she? She's with that Tannor again, isn't she? I told her to stay away from him!"
"Eolinda-"
Again, she ignored him. "Well, She'll never see him again, I guarantee it! Remdil, I want you to dismiss that no-account groom this moment! No, I'll do it myself, you never do anything right."
"But, Eolinda-"
She still hadn't really acknowledged his presence, despite giving him an order, and she hadn't run out of steam yet. She interrupted him once again, or tried to, because Dineniel had seen how ineffectual Remdil was being so she stood up and slapped Eolinda sharply across the face. The woman stopped abruptly, as if...well, as if she'd been slapped and was unable to do anything but stare at the Elf for what seemed like minutes, but was really only a few seconds.
Remdil was also shocked, but not as much so as Eolinda, who'd never been struck in her life.

Remdil sighed in relief. One thing he was glad for: Eolinda's rages were spectacular, but they were also usually brief. "Ah, thank you, Razawyn. Now, Eolinda, what were you saying? Eolinda?"
Eventually she turned toward him, still bemused. "Huh? Oh! Have you seen Livia? She not in the inn; I think she's out with that no good groom again."
Remdil looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh...Eolinda, I'd think you'd better sit down."
She did so, giving him a questioning look as she did so.
Remdil took a deep breath and told her of the events of the night before, beginning with Cadra's murder by a brigand and ending with Livia's kidnapping by that same brigand. He introduced Dineniel as "Razawyn" and didn't tell Eolinda of her part in the mess, because he had a use for the Elf and thought that if his wife knew about Dineniel's part, she might do something...precipitous. He finished by requesting that she stay in Garolin and tend the inn while he and Razawyn went after the brigands. Her reaction was about what he expected.
"What?! You expect me to stay behind while Livia's out there somewhere, kidnapped by brigands? No. No, no, no!" Each "no" was puncuated by a sharp shake of her head.
All Remdil could do was attempt to make her see reason, but he had little hope of success. He would try, though. "But, Dear, who would run the inn while we were gone? Someone has to stay behind, if only for that."
She snorted. "Make that no good Uncle of yours do it. By the Valar, he's supposed to own the place! He's never even around."
The dicussion continued in this vein for some time before Remdil gave up and allowed that she could go with them to rescue Livia. Dineniel was relieved; she stayed out of it, since it seemed to be a family matter, and by the end she'd gotten very bored. She'd been able to tell in the first five minutes that Remdil would lose the argument, but she'd had no choice but to wait. But finally, they were able to leave the inn and set out.

[Phoenix Solitude]

Carathon chewed hungrily on his meat. It seemed hard, tough, but he was so hungry he didn't care. Looking at the people around him, he quickly rubbed some spit into the meat and lobbed it into the fire. No-one noticed, and when he drew out the burning meat, none blinked an eyelid. He let it cool, blew hard upon it then ate. It was softer and sweeter.
Carathon was not sure why he had disappeared from the group. He had been to the river, he knew, and he had washed, bathed fully clothed, eager to please. His smell was gone now, and his hair was a lovely shade of brownish red, shoulder length. He still wore rags, rather worse for their dipping. But all in he seemed to be quite handsome.

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles smirked at the cleansed Carathon, as he finished his meager meal. The big, bald barbarian growled at what he saw. Grabbing the young man by the back of his head, he snarled. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Mayhap were you a lass, your virtue would be at stake here.” With a disgusted scowl, Ozracles flung the terrified boy backward, almost causing him to fall back into the mud again. Walking away, he turned to look back and muttered, “Thorondruin may be trusting you too soon, but be wary, I shall be watching you.”

As the others peacefully slept, the wild-eyed brigand flopped himself down and began sharpening the edge of his broadsword with a piece of flint and some oil.
His was the first watch.

[Phoenix Solitude]

Carathon sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced around to make sure Ozracles was nowhere about, then crept off. He spent the night sitting in a tree, hugging his knees close to his rag covered chest. What had he done wrong? all he wanted was to be accepted, to fit in. He was clean, he worked hard and he only spoke when spoken to. Why did they still treat him like an outcast?
Carathon remembered his wild roots. He had fitted in among the wild pack of foxes and wolves that had brought him up. that was why he didn't fit among humans, but he was yet to work that out. Carathon turned his face towards the moon and let out a long, mournful howl that echoed through the still night.
I see what this is Cim! A quest for power! Ozracles doesn't feel in charge so he bullies Carathon to make himself seem powerful! Sussed you out lol!

[Kettle of fish]

Livia delicately fingered the cooking knife she had hidden up her sleeve. These men were animals - if it ever came to defending herself, she had to remember that. Imagine them just as the pigs that she had to kill for roasts when she had been at the inn. Simply a quick flick across the throat, or a sure thrust between the ribs into the muscle of the heart.
What she didn't understand, was why she didn't just kill them during the night, or attempt to escape. She remembered back to her overbearing mother and her dead-end life at the inn.
For the moment, she decided to just study those she was with. Oz tended to lash out with his right arm first. Himel liked to use whatever was at hand to advantage, and Thor prefered his weapons. She was surprised Thoronduin hadn't already taken advantage of her.

[Kettle of fish]

Himelilek sneered at the melodrama that seemed to be playing out between Oz and Carathon. Carathon seemed pathetic - he did was he was bidden without question and took punishment without a word. There was nothing of the wild animal in him -someone or something had obviously broken his spirit long ago.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc – Your right, Sol. That is indeed what ails Oz. Great character development opportunity, don’t you agree. Hey, what’s Kettle doing playing Livia and Himel, get off and make your own character, will you?

Ozracles glanced over the huddled forms of Thorondruim, Himelilek and the bound and gagged Livia as they slept. He smirked, rubbing his grizzled chin. That young fool must have been scared out of his wits to hide in some tree, he mused. Putting his sword back into its scabbard, he leaned back on the tree he was sitting against and stretched out his heavily booted legs. The night would soon give way to day; it was time to wake Thorondruin for the next watch. The huge, bald barbarian casually tossed a fist-sized rock at the snoring brigand’s midriff. Thorondruin woke up with a grunt, and groaned as he looked around blearily.

“Your turn at the watch, fruitlips!” Ozracles grinned and closed his eyes at Thorondruin’s knife and daggers glare.

[Susan Delgado]

Growling about disrespectful barbarians, Thorondruin got up to take his watch, kicking a rock out of his way as he went. He noticed the boy hiding up the tree, but didn't bother to make him come down or anything. His watch passed unevenfully, and when he woke Himelilek for her turn, he "accidentally" kicked the barbarian in the lower back. Ozracles grunted and uttered a sleepy curse, but didn't wake up fully. Throndruin grinned to himself as he settled back to sleep.

Anyone other than Belin know the origin of the word "barbarian"?

My but that was random as only 3 AM can be...

[Susan Delgado]

Remdil watched his wife pack with an astonishment he shouldn't have felt after knowing her for so many years. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
"What are you doing?" He uttered in a preternaturally shrill voice.
"Packing," She replied, calm as ever.
Supressing an irritated sigh, he said, "I can see that. Why are you packing? It's the middle of the night."
"Don't you want to find our daughter?"
No response but a snort. She shrugged and continued her packing.
Remdil tried again. "What I meant was, why can't you wait until morning? Or at least daylight."
"The longer we wait, the farther ahead they are."
"But, Eolinda, it's night. They must be camped."
For the first time she stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. "Oh, Remdil, dearest husband, don't be stupid."
"What?! What do you mean, 'stupid'?"
She gave an exasperated sigh. "When did they leave?"
"Yesterday at dawn."
"And how far do you think they could have gotten in a day? A fair way, I'd say. They had horses, didn't they? Of course they did," she said, not waiting for his reply. "Now, we can wait around here and allow them to still be a full day ahead of us, or we can set out now and shorten their lead by several hours. Which do you think is the wiser course?"
Remdil didn't bother answering. He knew when he was beaten.

Just then, Razawyn popped her head in through the doorway. "I got horses," she said cheerily.
Remdil looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Where?" He asked suspiciously.
She glanced around the room, refusing to meet his eyes. "Oh, you know, they were...around," she said a bit vaguely.
Remdil sighed. "They aren't the inn's, are they?"
Razawyn widened her eyes in mock innocence. "Of course not! They were in a field."
"Stop!!" Eolinda suddenly burst out. She was very confused by the exchange between Razawyn and her husband and she was not a woman who relished the feeling of confusion. "What is going on here?"
Remdil uncomfortably told her of Razawyn's part in the excitement of the previous two nights and of her part in Livia's kidnapping. He ended with, "But she's helping us now, so we shouldn't do anything hasty!" As he restrained his incenced wife from going after the Elf's throat.
"Fine," Eolinda said as she starightened herself, "I'll use her but I'll never trust her."
"Oh, and she's a horse thief," Remdil said.
"And my real name's Dineniel," The Elf added.
Eolinda just threw up her hands and finished packing.

When they got out to the horses, though, she stopped dead. "Those are Ailin's horses!" She exclaimed, "We can't take those! Put them back immediately!"
Remdil shook his head. "We have no choice. We'll bring them back when we come back to town. We're only borrowing them."
Muttering deprecations under her breath, Eolinda allowed Remdil to help her mount and the three of them rode away from Garolin, into the darkness of the Wild.

[ September 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

Almost immediately after the strange trio left the village, Eolinda began nagging, alternately, Remdil and 'Razawyn' about everything from Dineniel's horse-theivery too 'how did Remdil become involved with these criminals anyways?'.

At one point, Dineniel noticed that Eolinda was having some trouble with her horse, and laughed somewhat nastily, but was silenced by a look from Remdil.
Idiot mortals, think they know everything, *mutter grumble*

As it got darker, Remdil suggested camping, but was immediately shot down by his wife, so they rode on into the night, until a half-asleep Remdil almost rode off the path into a crevice. A halt was finally called and they spent an uneventful night of little sleep.

When a wide-awake and refreshed looking Dineniel gleefully woke Eolinda & Remdil up, there was much grumbling and going-on, but they finally set out. The overly cheery Elf chatted to no-one in paticular as Remdil and Eolinda rode on in a sleepy stupor, glaring darkly at her.

[ September 15, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

I'm writing this because I'm bored and wanted to post. I thought a little atmosphere would be nice smilies/smile.gif

The morning dawned grey and chill. Unbeknownst to them, the two Elves stood together on the same ridge of Downs and looked East, into the rising sun, or where the sun would rise if the sky were clear. It was going to rain; one believed it would start by noon, the other somewhat later in the afternoon, but both were sure it would rain.
With identical sighs of disappointment, the two Elves turned back toward their respective groups of Men. Each wondered at times why she'd chosen her particular course of life, and dawn on a rainy midwinter day was always such a time, but their lives were such as they had chosen, and there was little either could do to change them at this moment.
With little relish but a sense of duty only an Elf could command, they woke the Men they travelled with and the two groups, so alike, so different, set out on their day's journey.
As they set out, the rain began to come down in sheets, heavy and cold. The Men huddled over their mounts' whithers, attempting to block the fall, but the Elves, closer to Arda, turned their faces up to the sky and let the rain beat on their temples.

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Phoenix Solitude]

Carathon looked towards the rain. The wind was rising, pulling at his rags, trying to push him from the branch. He jumped down, cursing out loud as the stones bit into his bare feet.
He limped over to the fire, sitting away from Ozracles in the hope that he wouldn't notice him.

Cimmerian, just as a test, can we see what would happen if Carathon stood up to Ozracles? I'd like to see Oz turn purple and explode!

[Kettle of fish]

The boy darted towards the display of fruit and vegetables, but the stallkeeper had been waiting for him from the little escapade yesterday, and strode in front of his wares to shoe him off.
"Get lost, you dirty scamp," the seller barked, "before I call the guards".
Both knew it was an idle threat - the guards would not take lightly to being disturbed for so slight a reason. But the temptation to try and sneak around the seller was dampened when the angry man picked up a heavy stick to emphasize his meaning. The boy walked away, then scurried back and nicked an apple when the seller was dealing with a customer. He munched it happily as he ran along, filching a roll of bread and a green hankerchief out of habit. The green hankerchief was very soft - he probably could sell it to one of the more unscrupulous dealers near the river bank, but he decided to keep it instead. Melting into a shadow, he took out the pouch that he kept next to his skin, and emptied its contents into the hankerchief. Glancing quickly around, he knotted the hankerchief and slipped it back into his pouch which he replaced.
Fat drops of rain began to fall, causing the customers to scatter and the outdoor sellers to hastily cover their wares. The boy munched the bread, as he looked enviously at the shop across. It was a proper shop, not one of those outdoor stalls, and sold among the shelves of scented candles that only the richer could afford, were jars and jars of golden honey. These were behind the counter and the boy often looked at them from outside, all the rumours of what honey was supposed to taste like swimming in his head. The rain was really pouring down now, so the slip of a boy vanished to find shelter.

[Belin]

<Susan, you're psychic. I was just thinking it should start to rain!>
< Please note: the (dis)organization of Delgado & Ibaimendi, Inc, assumes no liability for damages, psychological harm, or loss of higher brain functions resulting from antagonization of the barbarian. >

Remdil sat his horse with the greatest dignity he could muster. He was sore, tired and wet, and Eolinda (though twice the horseman he was) seemed to feel the same way. She sat stiffly on the horse ahead of him, and the storm clouds on her face rivaled those of the sky. She snarled at Dineniel over the meal, but the Elf simply shrugged it off, as she did the fact that Eolinda continued to address her as "Razawyn" for some reason.

Heavily the low sky rained over walled Neniant. They weren't far from town; they would have seen it from their campsite in better light. They rode toward it quietly.

"Have you been here before?" Dineniel asked suddenly.

Eolinda glared at her but didn't answer. Remdil considered.

"A few times, yes, but not for years. Only the merchants ride back and forth now. There are dangerous people out here." The last said without thinking, and with a furtive glance at the Elf as an afterthought. She didn't seem to notice.

"Do they know you there?" He shook his head. "What about those walls?"

"What about them? There's a gate."

Eolinda broke in impatiently. "Must you always think like a thief, you thief? We're respectable people, we enter the town like respectable people, we conduct ourselves respectably there, and we leave in a calm and rational manner! What's the matter with you?"

Remdil flinched. Dineniel shrugged and rode a little faster.

"You'll watch her, won't you?" Remdil whispered to his wife. She nodded solemnly as they neared the watchtower. A voice was calling to them.

[ September 17, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Cimmerian]

Hm, he'd probably get his skull crushed in. But what do you mean by test, there is nothing to measure up to here. It all depends on how we write our parts.


The heavy drops of rain pelting down on his weather worn face and bald head, refreshed the barbarian and saved him a trip to the stream. He sat still and enjoyed the sharp sting of the falling water.
Oblivious to all else, he closed his eyes and smiled contentedly.

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

Himelilek woke up with a start and cursed loudly as the rain drenched the elf maid. She dragged her cloak over her head and crawled under the overgrowth of a low branched tree. She glared at the others for a while as her sharp ears detected some suppressed giggles, and then dozed off again.

[Susan Delgado]

Hey, no smashing the help; he's useful smilies/smile.gif

Thorondruin huddled against the rainfall, silently cursing the others' evident pleasure in being drenched to the skin. Well, maybe not all the others...Livia didn't seem too badly off; she had Thorondruin himself to lean against for warmth, but the boy, Carathon, seemed bad off. He was shivering in his rags and looked nearly ready to fall off his horse. None of the others seemed to have noticed. Thorondruin shrugged and sped up a little. If the boy didn't know how to stay warm, well, that was his problem.

[ September 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

Ooc - Uh, when did we start riding again...I though we were all sleeping in the woods. I said probably crush-in his skull.

Ozracles leered at Livia as the rain drenched the flimsy dress she wore. It clung to her body, and her face coloured under the barbarian's discerning eye. She curled herself into a ball, hugging her knees close to her.
Thorodruin noticed the way Oz enjoyed the view and took a step towards the bald man. In his haste, the tall thin brigand slipped and fell face first into the mud. Ozracles brayed with laughter, even as Carathon giggled softly, at least it was someone other than him who tasted mud for a change.

Thorodruin threw himself at Ozracles in a maddening rage and the two large men rolled around on the mud, scuffling wildly to get an upper hand as the rain now cascaded down quite heavily around them in sheets of white.

Livia's heart leapt wildly as she watched the two men fight, she prayed that they would kill eachother and maybe she could escape. Casting a furtive look at Himelilek, she sighed in relief as the elf snored softly, oblivious to the chaos around her.

Then Ozracles heavy fist smashed into Thorondruin's face, breaking his nose with a loud dull crack. The brigand howled in pain and kicked the barbarian low. With a strangled gasp and eyes bulging, Ozracles went down in a heap. Tears of agony streaming down his face, as nerves knotted in paralysing pain.

Carathon smiled openly now, thrilled to witness his oppresors at the recieving end of what he had been dished up so often.

The fight over, both men sat and glared at each other, each awaiting the next one to speak first.

[Phoenix Solitude]

Cool down you guys this is meant to be fun! And Cim, by test I meant to see what will happen. But I hope you don't mind me taking a tiny liberty here.

Carathon watched as Oz rolled around, howling. Suddenly, Oz sat up very sraight and looked right at Carathon. Carathon immediatly stopped smiling, but he knew it was already too late.
In one movement, Ozracles stood up and strode towards the ragged-clothed boy. He grabbed the top of Carathon's hair, pulling his head back. Carathon grimaced but bore it.
"Smirk will you? Smile? Funny is it? I'll give you funny my lad!"
Oz dragged Carathon from his horse and dealt him a heavy blow to the head. Carathon staggered but did not fall. Oz growled and lunged for the boy's throat, totally enraged.
Carathon never knew why he did it, or how he managed it, but he was so scared of what might happen that he drew back a fist and slammed it into Ozracle's nose. Blood spurted out like a scarlet fountain.

There Cim, what is his reaction? Give Carathon a good hiding? Stop bullying him?
And I really don't know why everyone calls Carathon 'boy' when he's at least 20 if not more. Still, it sounds good!

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles was stunned, but more so by the unexpectedness of the blow than the blow itself. The slight blood that trickled out of an old injury bothered him little. The fact that now a mere boy, that too a pretty one, had had the gall to strike at him raised his hackles. Driving his right fist into the boy’s midriff, the huge barbarian slammed his left fist downward as Carathon doubled up in pain.

As the boy crumpled down in a whimpering heap and lay crouched on the muddy ground, Ozracles raised his large boot to crush down on his head. Thorondruin yelled but still held on to his profusely bleeding nose. As the killing boot came down on the frightened boy’s head, Ozracles found himself being lifted up into the air. Turning his bloodied face in confusion, he looked into Himelilek’s dark eyes and maniacal smile.

[Cimmerian]

“Let him be, big man,” she purred, holding up his immense bulk, seemingly without much effort.
At the barbarian’s confused glare, she whispered. “There’ll be time enough for fun and games later, after we have got our hands on the trinket.” With that she winked and let him drop to the ground.

Muttering curses, the barbarian walked away, failing to notice the young Carathon slip one of the daggers that had fallen out of his scabbard, into his ragged tunic with a bitter glare at its former owner. Biting his lip to fight back the pain, he rose up and hobbled to his horse. “Never again,” he whispered to his steed, “never again will he lay his hands on me.”

“If we are all quite done,” barked Himelilek, “Let us be on our way!”

Thorondruin nodded and remounted, casting a dark scowl at Ozracles who returned the pleasantry.

The party moved on.


Ooc- Sol, place these large OOC posts and queries in the discussion thread. That’s why it is there.

[Phoenix Solitude]

Ok, sorry. Argh I did it again!

Carathon jumped onto his horse, gasping as the pain stabbed. He kicked the sides and the beast galloped away.
Carathon did not know where he was going or why, but he was on the look out for something.
Flowers. For Heimlelik (sorry if name is spelt wrongly) to say thank you for saving him.
He spotted some in a field and rode up, scooping the stems from the ground. They were beautiful. He shook the dirt from the ends and turned the horse around. Riding back slowly, the ebbing sun burning his half uncovered back.


Lemme just state that Carathon is NOT falling in love with Hiem. He is a gentleman and wishes to thank her!

[Susan Delgado]

"Who's out there?" The voice called. Dineniel stopped her horse warily but Remdil only waved her on impatiently. He went a few steps more toward the gate, then stopped and looked back at her sharply. "Unless there's a reason you can't go inside?"
She shook her head and the horse's reins and started toward the gate again. "No, it was just a reflex...I've never been here before."

"Are you two coming? It's raining and I want to go inside," Eolinda sounded peevish and Remdil didn't mention that they probably wouldn't be going "inside" any time soon.

The boy watched the three travellers pass through the gate. They certainly looked prosperous, but then why were they out on this miserable morning? He followed them as they wandered around the town. He didn't know what they were looking for, but he observed them and determined several things about them which helped him decide how they should be approached.

OOC Aside: I'm operating on the asumption that KoF's boy wouldn't be able to recognise an Elf on sight. After all, his "education", such as it is, has been very parochial. End of Aside

The older woman was obviously in charge, though the younger one seemed to be laughing behind her grim expression. The man rode between and behind the two women and seemed unsure of his place, although that could be a reaction to the weather.

The boy decided his best bet would be to approach the older woman. The man would differ to her, and the younger one was unpredictable. She might just kick him and ride on, no doubt laughing the whole time.

Eolinda pulled to a halt when the boy stepped out of the alley a little way ahead. He looked miserable, shivering, and as she watched, he stumbled and fell into the mud in the middle of the street. When he didn't get up again, she leapt off the horse and ran to turn him over. Remdil and Dineniel followed helplessly in her wake.

She gently turned him over. He was filthy and dresed in rags and she could smell him even over the rain. She looked up at Remdil, about to voice her sudden doubts about the boy's validity when he suddenly curled up and leapt to his feet. He ran, with her purse clutched in one of his grubby hands. Eolinda cried out in dismay, but Dineniel was two steps ahead. Literally. As an Elf, ahe could run much faster than a small, chronically underfed Atani child and she quickly caught him and dragged him back to the others, kicking and screaming.

[Kettle of fish]

The boy called out as the younger woman's hand grabbed onto him and dragged him back to the other two. He should have know that she would be unpredictable. He bit savagely at her and tried to wriggle out of her grasp but there was no use.
Scowling sullenly, he held up his empty hands.

[Rosseiliantiel]

Remdil muttered something about, "A thief to catch a thief, again." under his breath. Eolinda had immediately taken charge of the little captive and was holding him by the ear and berating him endlessly, each point punctuated by a tug on his ear. The boy was yelping and clawing at her arm, to no avail. Dineniel was glaring half-heartedly at everyone and everything from under her rain-drenched hood.

This whole scene was, obviously, earning them some strange glances from the passers-by who were appearing from their homes and opening up their shops as the sun rose higher and the rain began to show signs of slowing.

[ September 21, 2002: Message edited by: Rosseiliantiel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin rode well ahead of the others, still mopping at his gushing nose. If that creature ever so much as touched him again, he lose something more valuable than his pride. If he was as foolish as Thorondruin knew he was, then he probably wouldn't live to regret it. The next time he-Thorondruin's thoughts were interrupted by Livia turning around as much as she could in her current position and said qietly, "Why did you do that?"
Thorondruin stared at her for a moment. This was the first time she'd been even halfway civil to him since he'd known her. He muttered, "Shut up. I didn't do it for you."
Her face fell. With a whispered, "Oh," she turned back toward the front.

No one spoke for hours. The rain fell, the wind blew, and everyone thought their own thoughts. Around midday, Thorondruin and Livia looked around as Himelelek aproached from behind.

"There's someone following us," She said quietly.
"Is there?" He sighed. This was just not what he wanted right now. "How many, how far?"
"I'd say two or three, perhaps a league back." She grinned tightly. "They're trying to be quiet back there. They don't know one of us is an Elf."
Thorndruin sighed, "All right. Ozracles, Carathon, come on up here."
Carathon obeyed, but the barbarian only grunted.
Thorondruin stopped and turned his horse to face the recalcitrant barbarian. "Oz, get up here! Now!"
Muttering imprecations, Ozracles rode up to the others. "What?"
"Himelilek says we're being followed. You and I are going back to investigate, while Himelilek and Carathon wait here for us to return. Understood?" Everyone nodded and Throndruin and Ozracles turned back down the path.

"What did the Elf say about the people following us?" Ozracles asked as they rode.
"Everyone's full of questions today, aren't they? She didn't say anything, just that someone is following us. Now be quiet, we don't want them to hear us coming," but it was too late. Even as Thorondruin warned the other to silence, a large man-not as big as Ozracles, but big enough to serve-riding an equally large horse burst out of the bushes and grabbed Ozracles' reins as he galloped past. Ozracles attacked the man with his sword, but the somewhat wild swing combined with the horse's sudden forward lunge caused him to tumble over the horse's rump and land in a heap on the ground. Throndruin swore and took off after the would-be horse thief, but it soon became obvious that the man was more familiar with the forest and Thorondruin was quickly outdistanced. With a last curse at the man's fleeing back, Thorondruin trotted back to where Ozracles was still sitting on the ground, clutching a nasty cut on his forearm. When he fell off the horse, his unsheathed sword had fallen with him. Being a proper barbarian, Ozracles always kept his weapon honed to a razor edge and when he'd fallen, the sword had struck him in the arm, nearly severing it; only the bone had stopped the blade. He was fortunate it was only his arm that had been hit, and not something more sensitive, like his head. Thronrodruin frowned and reconsidered his last thought. His head was certainly not the worst place Ozracles could have been hit. He barely used it, after all, so how necessary could it be?

Thorondruin suppressed a grin as he approached the man sitting on the ground. "What's this, a barbarian caught off his guard?"
Ozracles growled a curse and threw a rock in Thorondruin's direction. "Shut up and help me! Gah! Didn't you even get the horse back?" He shouted, angry and emabarrassed at having fallen so ignominiously. Thorondruin shrugged.
Ozracles tried to get to his feet, but fell back immediately. He'd lost a lot of blood, was still losing it, and obviously needed help. Thorondruin dismounted and tore strips from the barbarian's cloak to use as a tourniquet. "Can you ride a horse?" He asked.
With help, Ozracles managed to get to his feet, but he couldn't mount the horse by himself, and, being bigger than Thorondruin by six inches and at least a hundred pounds, Throndruin could not help him, so they ended up walking back to where the others waited.

[ September 21, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

Ozracles grunted in pain, Thorondruin’s make shift nursing, though poor had served its purpose in delaying the wound from getting contaminated. But any longer and the large barbarian would loose the use of his sword arm. He gritted his teeth as they walked back to where the others had been waiting. The others gaped at the blood soaked vest and leggings on Ozracles. Carathon and Livia gasped at the horribly deep gash on the barbarian’s thickly muscled forearm, his callused fingers hung limply as severed nerves rendered them nearly useless. Himelilek approached the barbarian with a smirk.

“Finally met your match, had you?” she sneered.

Ozracles glared at her as Thorondruin laughed, but Livia and Carathon were still aghast at the sight of blood.

“Shut your laughing,” groaned Ozracles, teeth gritting, “And use some of your elven unguents to heal my arm.”

Himelilek smiled smugly and rummaged about in the small pouch she carried on her belt. Fishing out a tiny vial with a flourish, she grabbed at the blood soaked pieces of cloth that held the wound in place and yanked them off with a sharp pull. Ozracles howled in agony and sank to his knees, as the gaping wound spurted red blood all around the two of them. Thorondruin quickly lost his sense of humour and gasped.
Livia turned away and Carathon barely kept his breakfast down.

Ozracles, now delirious with pain, grabbed at the elf as she poured a thick green liquid from the vial over the gaping wound.

“I know I am going to regret this,” she muttered, ‘but we need your brawn for a task like this.”

“Rrrrggghh!” Ozracles stiffened as the elven medicine began to take effect. He tightened his grip on Himelilek and she had to kick him away. The barbarian rolled about on the grassy ground, his loud groans subsiding to whimpers. The wound on his sword arm seemed to close itself up, until all but a dark thin scar remained. One, which the barbarian would display arrogantly when he awoke if only he hadn’t fallen on his own sword. Ozracles slept peacefully.

“How did he fall on his own sword?” Himelilek asked.

“He was taken by surprise.” Thorondruin answered, his eyes were fixated on the vial in the elf’s hand, which she deftly placed back into its pouch. “How long will he be asleep?’

“A few moments, the spell will regenerate his strength as well.”

“Well, without his horse, one of us has to share with him.”

“Not me!” Himelilek snorted.

Thorondruin looked over at Carathon, who gulped hard and looked away. He’d rather have Livia ride behind him, but Ozracles might as well throw the boy off his horse and take it all for himself. But if he placed the girl with Carathon, they may just run away, Thorondruin thought for a while. He surely did not want to have Ozracles sitting behind him.

Then Ozracles woke up and put the lean man out of his dilemma. “I must get my horse back,” he grumbled, rising up on unsteady feet. He looked at his healed arm as if it was new. Flexing his muscles, he smiled at Himelilek.

“Come with me elf. We have a score to settle.”

“Those horse thieves are still near, waiting to ambush us again soon. I agree with the barbarian. We will strike at them before they strike at us again.” Himelilek said in a matter of fact manner.

“Aye!” Ozracles roared, seamlessly sliding his razor-edged broadsword out from its well-worn, leather scabbard. “Come, Elf!”

‘I will stay here with these two.” Offered Thornondruin.

“A wise decision,” smiled Himelilek as she started off after the barbarian, “We will be back in a few turns of the glass.”

“Fare well!” said Carathon meekly but the Barbarian was out of earshot, and the elf couldn’t care less.

[Susan Delgado]

"Hmmph"

The others turned to look at him, but he just shook his head and gestured to the remaining horses. "Come on, let's go. Livia, you're riding with me."
Carathon glanced back toward where Ozracles and Himelilek had disappeared. "We're just leaving them? Shouldn't we wait or something?"
"Hey! Who's is charge here? We're leaving."
"But-"
"On the horse!" Meekly, Carathon obeyed, and waited for Thorondruin's will. "Follow me."
Carathon looked like he'd like to ask where they were going, but thought better of it.

They rode back in the direction they'd come from for about a mile, then turned off onto a s track going into the trees. After a few minutes, they came in sight of Thorondruin's goal: a small farm surrounded by tall trees. Thorondruin stopped and watched for a while, then dismounted and had Carathon dismount too. He tied Livia securely, then gestured for carthon to follow, leading the horses. Carathon wondered what they were doing here, but didn't quite have the nerve to ask. As it happened, he didn't have to; Thorondruin volunteered the information.

"We need supplies. This farm looks like a good place to secure them."
Somehow, Carathon doubted that meant they were going to buy them from the farmer.
Thorondruin continued, "Boy, when we get into that barn, I just want you to stand and hold the horses. I'll get the supplies."
Sure, he could do that. And he did, right up until the voice yelled from the entrance, "Hai! What are you doing?"

Thorondruin whirled around, startled, in one hand a sack full of pilfered vegetables, in the other a dagger he'd been about to use to kill a young pig. He stared at the figure in the doorway, unable to move. It seemed he'd made a terrible mistake; this was no ordinary farm, apparently, not a human farm but one belonging to the Sindar, and in the doorway stood a young Elven maiden.

"I asked you a question," she said with all the imperiousness of the righteous.
Throndruin decided he should act as if nothing were amiss. "We're travelling through and we needed supplies."
"M-hm. And the reason you chose our farm?"
"It was the closest."
"I see. And were you planning to pay for what you're so generously helping yourself to?"
Thorondruin put on the most sincere grin he could under the circumstances. "Of course I was! Do I look like some sort of thief?" He spread his hands wide assumed a "fine, upstanding" posture.
The girl made no comment, but looked thoughtful.
"Well, I hate to be in such a rush, but we really must be going, " Thorondruin said. He dropped the sack with a soft thump and bustled toward the door, but the girl stopped him.
"Why are you really here?" She asked.
Annoyed, he responded, "I told you, we needed supplies. Now will you get out of the way?"
"No, I want to go with you."
"What?"
"You heard me, take me with you."
Before Thorondruin could respond, Carathon said, "Sir, just take her or don't, but let's go...I hear someone behind the barn."
Thorondruin paused to listen, and, sure enough, he could hear voices speaking softly from the other side of the barn's far wall.
The girl jerked straight. "It's my father!" she hissed, "Let's go!"
"Fine! Carathon, grab those vegetables. Girl, can you ride?"
She snorted. "My name's not 'girl', and of course I can." She went to a side stall and led a horse out to where the others were waiting. They leapt on their horses and rode quickly, but quietly, back to where Thorondruin had left Livia. She was gone. Thorondruin stared for a moment before Himelilek's voice called from not far off, "I have her Thor, let's go. Who's the Elf?
"Long story. We gotta get out of here; there may be pursuit."
"Oh, that's just great, esteemed leader, can't even steal some lousy vegetables without getting caught," Ozracles' voice was mocking and he sneered, pleased. He was also covered in blood and seated on his recovered horse.
"Shut up, idiot, we have to go!"

[Cimmerian]

It was almost noon, when Himelilek's tracking skills led the two hunters to their quarry. Three men, well armed but in ragged clothes and armour that were poorly mismatched, as if they were pried off the dead, or stolen off the blacksmith's waste-rack, sat around a small fire, feasting on some smelly fish.
Ozracles tensed as his eyes fell upon six horses tethered close to a brook. His tall black was among them. Turning to Himelilek, the barbarian growled in a low voice. "They're mine!"

"Suit yourself," replied the elf dryly.

With a wild ululating cry the barbarian rushed out and fell upon the startled trio. By the time the men realised what was going on, the horse thief closest to where the barbarian had charged from, was screaming like a woman, as half his spine stuck out from the deep gash rendered upon his lower back. The other two men leapt to their feet, the closest of whom went down again as Ozracles' savage thrust tore through his paltry armour, muscled torso and bone as one. He died before he hit the ground.

The third horse thief, almost as tall as the blood-mad barbarian, and nearly as heavy, was the one who had stolen his black from under him. Ozracles smiled, a smile that did not extend to his cold, dark eyes. The other man squared off against him, waving two short swords, one in each hand, in silvered arcs in the air.

"Killing them was easy, barbar," he sneered, "Now see how you fare against a real man. Or will you cut yourself again."

His rasping laugh soon turned to alarmed gasps as Ozracles lunged at him, broadsword swinging with wild abandon. The two large men were almost evenly matched, but it was always Ozracles who was attacking and the horse thief defending. The loud clash of metal against metal, borne by sinews of steel hard muscle, reverberated through the dense forest.

"Fool barbar," gasped the horse thief, as Ozralces slipped on spilt blood, but only down to one knee. Muttering a curse, the barbarian deftly parried a downard stroke and drove his free hand in a fist at the other man's midriff.
Out of breath and alarmed by the force of the blow, the large man staggered backward, dropping both his swords. In one swift motion, Ozracles rose to his feet and swung his mighty swordarm. Blood fountianed into the air out of the cavity where the thief's head once was as the large body, arms flailing toppled backwards. Ozracles kicked at the severed head, lifting it into the air and sent it swerving to where Himelilek sat watching.

The elf grinned as she grabbed at the blood stained head, its eyes rolling wildly, and walked up to the barbarian, who proceeded to free his horse.

"Impressive!" she said, tossing the severed head aside. "Let us take the rest of the horses too."

Ozracles grunted, wiping his sword clean against the headless corpse of the leader of the horse thieves. He nodded at Himelilek and mounted his black. "Aye, they may fetch us a good price."

"Now let us get back to Thorondruin. I do not wish him to make off with the jewels all by himself." Himelilek said and kicked her horse into flight. Ozracles followed, leading the five other horses behind his own.


As they neared the spot of rendezous, Thorondruin and the others were nowhere to be found.

"They cannot be far," growled Ozracles.

"I hear them, they are upwind a few miles. Come!"

As they rode on, Himelilek laughed. "That trusting fool, he has left the girl all by herself. She is on her way back. Right back to us."

Ozracles eyes lit up. Livia without the so-called protection of Thorondruin.
They decided to wait for her. And sure enough, she came frantically running through the undergrowth, almost colliding into the horses.

"Save me, kind sirs!" the panting girl pleaded, "I have been taken by force by..." She choked when she lifted her eyes at the leering grins of Ozracles and Himelilek. Her heart sank, she was too tired to cry.

"Well, well!" laughed Himelilek.

"You have some sleep potions, elf!" growled Ozracles. "Put her to sleep and I will have her bound and hidden, far away from Thorondruin."

"The potion will not be necessary." Himelilek laughed, lashing her foot out, her heavy boot landing hard on the base of the girl's skull. She went down in a heap. Ozracles glared at the laughing elf.

"I want her without scars." He roared.

"There'll be none. Does the big, bad barbarian have a soft spot for little Livia?" sneered the elf.

Ozracles cursed loudly and lifted up the limp form, stuffing her in a sack and binding it tightly, he casually tossed it over one of the stolen horses. And they made their way onward, until they came upon a farm.

"There," said Himelilek boredly, "are the rest of our fine party."

[Kettle of fish]

The boy could already see the curious faces aimed towards them.
"Lemme go!!" he squealed, and finally yanked out of the grip of the older woman. His ear was red and stinging, and this unexpected turn of events meant that he had missed that time slot every third day when the baker disappeared for a full half minute to open the back door for the new flour supplies.
He had been meaning to grab enough loaves to give to the young'uns (urchins who were younger than five) who lived near the warehouses.
It was high time to disappear. But before he scurried off, the question that had been burning in his mind ever since the younger lady had caught him and he had stared into her face. He really ought not to ask. And yet...
The boy told himself not to be a scardycat and took a step back towards the trio.
Looking at the younger lady's face and then staring at the ground, he asked shyly, "Are you my mother?"

[Phoenix Solitude]

Bewildered by everything going on around him, Carathon ran off and sat crosslegged on the damp grass, deciding to stay there until he was called. After a while, he decided to do some writing, so from his bag he took his only possesion, a large, leather bound brown book. The leather was cracked and dirty and the pages were bent, torn. He took up his pen and wrote. His spelling and handwriting left a lot to be desired, but it was just ledgible.
Throndun stol sum vegtabals and a gil cort him. He is very angree. Ozaraceles is stil bein horibel and Hemlilek stoped him from hitin me. I wish i cud leev her but if i did they wud cach me and beet me hard. I shud gust stay her til they ar dun doin wot they ar doin and then hop they let me go. I got sum flowrs for hem but i havnt givn them to her yet becos she mit be angree. I hop my speelin has goten beter or maybee not becos no on can reed this.
Having slowly and labouriously written this out, Carathon placed the book carefully in his bag. Then, he jumped up, placed his bag on his shoulder and ran back to join the group.
Still, he had no idea what was going on, so he hung round hoping some one would explain things to him. Oz had been stabbed somehow, and he came up close and leant over somebodys shoulder.

Sarry! I'm just like, really confused!Is this better?

[ September 25, 2002: Message edited by: Phoenix Solitude ]

[Rosseiliantiel]

"Are you my mother?"

Dineniel's eyes opened wide in shock, and she nearly sat down in the street.
"I, uh, don't know. I don't think so..." The boy's face fell. Dineniel looked around at Eolinda and Remdil for help, but they seemed strangely embarrassed. Sighing, Dineniel pushed her hair out of her face and indicated her pointed ears.
"So, you see, um..."

[Cimmerian]

Ozrcles fingered the severed and pointed elf ears on his necklace absently as he licked his dry lips. His dark eyes staring keenly at the new maiden who had joined them. Another elf, he grimaced. Himelilek was bad enough. The elf maid glanced at the big, bald brute and her eyes widened in fear at the necklace of shrivelled elven ears he ran his callused fingers over, and then narrowed in loathing.

Ozracles snorted at her stares and gave Thorondruin a sour look. The tall, gangly man knew what that look was all about, but he ignored it. Instead he said, "Livia has escaped."

"I am not surprised," Ozracles grunted, "She her replacement?" The barbarain jerked his head toward the new addition to the group.

"Possibly, but she is more willing."

"More willing," Ozracles smirked.

"Good haul of horses you have there." Thorondruin changed the subject to draw the barbarain's leering attention form the maid.

"The profits come to the elf wench and I. You have no claim on them."

"What of the sacks on the horses?"

Ozracles glanced at the small sack in which Livia was bound, as it jiggled on the horse's saddle. "Those too are ours."

Thorondruin stared coldly for a while and then said, "Keep them. I have bigger and better game in mind."

Himelilek rode up close to the barbarian and smiled at Thorondruin. "Where do we go to now, fearless leader?" she asked.

[Kettle of fish]

A wave of dissappointment washed over the boy. His lip quivered but he refused to let himself cry.
"I just thought," he said in a small voice, "that if I was really really good and looked after the young'uns and made sure Blind Tobey had stuff to eat, then... then my mother would come back. Because I was so good..."
He turned to go. Maybe he hadn't been good enough. But he'd keep being real good. And maybe one day, he'd be so good that his mother would come.

[Susan Delgado]

Eolinda felt a wave of disgust at seeing the others simply stand and watch as the poor, miserable looking boy walked away into the rain. Had they no comapssion? She supposed she'd have to to it herself, just like always.

"Wait!" She called to the boy's retreating back. He turned around, eyes lighting up with hope. He returned, slowly. when he stopped a dozen paces away, she said, "What's your name?"

He shrugged. "Don't have one."

"Oh. Well, we can't just call you 'boy'. What do you want us to call you?"

He shrugged again. He really looked miserable. "Blind Tobey and some of the others call me da, but I'm not."

"Who's Blind Tobey?" Remdil asked
"Are you hungry?" Eolinda asked similtaneously.

"Blind Toby's my little brother. I'm hungry. Do you have food?"

"Certainly." Eolinda said, getting some dried meat and bread out of her pack. The boy wolfed them eagerly. After he'd finsihed, he looked at them, a mite suspicious.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Eolinda frowned. "Why shouldn't I be? I know how it feels to go hungry." In fact, she knew nothing of the sort, but she ignored Remdil's nudge to that effect.

The boy only stared back. He may be younng, but he knew that nobody did anything for someone else without expecting something in return.

The silence stretched on for several minutes. Remdil was uncomfortable, but he, who actaully did know what it was like in the boys shoes-well, in a manner of speaking, anyway- did not want to be the one to confirm his suspicions. Eolinda felt quite all right with the situation, since she was the one who'd actually fed the boy. It was Dineniel who finally spoke up.

"We need information," she said.

The boy heaved a sigh of relief. Was that all? He nodded and addressed the Elf. "What do you need to know?"

"We need to know if you've seen two men and a- a woman like me ride through here either today or late yesterday. One of the men would have had a girl with her."

The boy, who missed very little that went on in Nenient, hadn't seen the thing she was describing and said so. Remdil and Eolinda looked sorely disappointed, but Dineniel looked as if it was exactly what she'd been expecting to hear.

[Kettle of fish]

The boy looked apprehensively at the three after he had gobbled down the food. He knew he should have waited. That was the cardinal rule - Nothing from strangers came for free.

He was relieved when all they wanted was information. That had been close - by eating their food he had essentially agreed to anything they might demand. Street honour demanded it. Having meat had been too much of a temptation, but it would not happen again.

As it was, he was already feeling guilty for not thinking things through. He should have saved some for Blind Tobey. Blind Tobey generally did fairly well in regards to coin when travellors visited the Black Tobey Inn that he sat outside - all the locals had long figured out that the blindness was only an act and took to reaching for a stick whenever he came by.
He should have left some for Tobey. How would he mother ever come back if he was so selfish?

"Shouldn't ha' told them" he whispered under his breath.
He turned once again to leave.

[ September 28, 2002: Message edited by: Kettle of fish ]

[Susan Delgado]

Throndruin looked around at the others and found himself alone. Himelilek ignored him as much as she could and Oz kept giving him these little sideways grins he found extremely creepy. Of the others, only the new Elf, Hithduiniel, was paying any positve attention to him. She was, in fact, riding next to him and talking very quickly about anything and everything she could think of. It was extremely annoying. It may also explain the looks he was getting from the barbarian.

After ten minutes, he snapped, "By the Valar, shut up!"
She closed her mouth with a snap and directed her horse farther back in the group.

Ignoring Ozracles' extremely unbarbaric giggles, he addressed Himelilek, "Well, where are we going?"
She looked around thoughtfully. "Well, we're about three days north of Ossiriand and Beren and Luthien live quite a bit farther south. I'd say we've got at least another week of travelling before we get where we're going."
Ozracles broke off his laughter at this news. "A week!" He exclaimed hotly, "When I signed on here, I assumed it would be a short job!" He glared at Throndruin as if it were his fault somehow. Thorondruin ignored him.
"A week? Well, I hope you know what you're talking about...We'd better be moving on," He didn't relish being in the dangerous barbarian's company any more than Ox wanted to be in his; he kicked his horse into a canter and the others followed suit.

[Susan Delgado]

"Wait!" Eolinda called again. The boy kept trying to run away when she wasn't finished with him.
The boy turned back, thinking dreadfully,Oh, here it comes. He said nothing, but waited for Eolinda to speak.

"You're familiar with this area, aren't you?"

The boy nodded hesitantly. What was this now?

"Well, we're in need of a guide. We'd like to hire you."

"What?!" This from each of the other three in various levels of astonishment.

"What?" Eloinda responded, surprised. It seemed an obvious need with which the boy could help.

"Eolinda...I'm not certain this boy is something we need. He's obviously nothing more than an urchin, and no doubt a thief," Remdil whispered to her.
"Oh, Remdil, be quiet. We do need a guide, and I'm sure he's been everywhere around here."
"Has he been out of the town, though? Because if thee brigands haven't been here, we'll need someone we knows the aorrounding area."
Eolinda shrugged.

The boy had watched this exchange with annoyance, but there was never any doubt he wanted to accompany them. He didn't really know much about the area outside of Neniant, but going with them meant regular feedings and possibly even some decent clothing and shoes. He could leave the care of the little 'uns to Blind Tobey, maybe even get the woman to leave them some food. Yes, that was what he wanted. "I can do it," He started.

"Oh, good! It's decided then!" Eolinda interrupted.

"Wait! I wasn't finished," The boy continued. "Where are you going and what are you doing?" He concluded.

"We're looking for a group of brigands that kidnapped our daughter," Remdil said.

"Oh. Hmmm," the boy responded.

[Kettle of fish]

The boy looked at the three with a little trepidation after the last reply by one of the women. He looked at the man again, as if reappraising him. The lady had said 'our daughter'. So this was one of those outlandish men who had two wives. The boy was starting to wonder if he had gotten in over his head.

First he had to find out more.

"Why don't we move to a dryer spot instead of standing out here and looking like crazies."

If they did turn out to be a bit turned in the head, he could always nick off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a young'un just slip out of sight. Good, so the word was out that he was with three strangers. Street rules meant it was his turn to leave a message detailing if they were under his protection, people to be avoided, or good targets to be fleeced.

[Susan Delgado]

"Certainly!" Eolinda cried. At this suggestion, she considered the boy more than halfway convinced, if not completely convinced. "Where's the nearest inn? We'll discuss it there."
"This way," The boy said through clenched teeth. He was becoming a little annoyed with this woman's enthusiasm.

The inn the boy led them to was the Pig's Ear and it actually wasn't the nearest in absolute terms, but rather the nearest that wouldn't get him locked up, or worse.
When they reached it, they all went inside and took a secluded table in the back corner.
The innkeeper did recognise the boy, however, and diligently ignored them, no matter what Remdil tried to do to get his attention. Eventually he gave up and sat in his corner, glumly drinkless.

They began with introductions. The boy seemed startled to learn that Dineniel was an Elf; apparently he'd never seen one before.

[Cimmerian]

A week was too long indeed, Ozracles grumbled. Now was the time to strike for his well honed battle instincts kept him wary of the fact that the party was being followed, albeit by some great distance. Himelilek had sensed it too, but she had faith in her own skills with her deadly blade and chain. And what she recently witnessed of the barbarian, she knew there was no chance for anyone against them in a melee. Thorondruin however coule prove to be the weak link in the chain for already he seemed to have softened towards the vagrant boy and the green elf maid.
Himelilek's eyes flashed as she thought up of ways to manipulate Thorondruin and Carathon. Ozracles already seemed to be under her will and Carathon would be easy. Thorondruin would, however, be another matter.

Suddenly one of the sacks on the stolen horse wriggled and a soft moan emitted from it. Both the elves heard it clearly and Hithundiel raised a questioning eyebrow as Himelilek stiffened. Ozracles steered his large black back to where the stolen horses cantered behind the party. Livia had regained consciousness and the barbariab could not afford that.
Thorondruin and Carathon were too far up ahead to notice anything as Himelilel distracted the other elf. Ozracles silenced the startled innkeeper's daughter with a sharp crack at the sack.

"This horse has a bad stomach... it will pass," the bald man grinned.

Himelilek sighed slightly and glanced at Hithundiel, who hastened to ride away from the two barbarians and towards their leader.

[Kettle of fish]

At the Pig's Ear, the boy made sure that the sat where he could see the rest of the room. His left foot shifted uneasily as though preparing to take flight.

Without consciously thinking about it, the boy had already mapped out the three easiest ways out of the inn, knew which tables could be tipped over, and that the dandy drinking himself stupid on the other side of the room had twenty five silver pieces in his belt pouch.

His eyes flicked over to the innkeeper who was studiously ignoring him. If it hadn't been for these three people with him, he would have gotten him thrown out before he could take three steps into the door.

Of course, the boy thought with a grin, Within two steps, he could have swiped the money bag of the man closest to the door, picked up his ale and tossed it to the other side of the room to cause a distraction, and tweaked the innkeeper's beard.

He was still having trouble with what they were trying to tell him. The one called Dineniel was something called an Elf. Did that mean she grew antlers at night time or something - no wait, that was an elk.

The man was looking miserable and trying to get the innkeeper's attention.

"Take out a silver piece" he told him, ignoring the immediate suspicion that anyone gave him when he told them to take out their money. With obvious reluctance, a silver coin was handed over. The boy could see the eyes of Dineniel watching his fingers closely. But he wasn't about to snitch this one - not when it would jeopardise his chances of earning more. That would be stupidity.

Leaning forward, he spun the coin on the table top, pretending to be completely entranced by the delicate pattern of the coin's whirling. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost see the innkeeper's ears prick up at the sound.

[ October 05, 2002: Message edited by: Kettle of fish ]

[Belin]

Hithduiniel sat straight up on her horse and pretended not to notice anything. The horse knew better, just as she knew its disdain for them, and for her. They were cruel; she was incompetent. She had this in common with the beast, however: it remained dignified and unexpressive, obeying what it was told until it had a chance at something better.

She took inventory of the company. There was only one other elf, a wild-eyed Sindar whose face she couldn't read any more than if it had been an orcs. For the matter of that, perhaps there was something orcish about her taken as a whole. Hithduiniel glanced at Himelilek's wrists and neck, looking for the scars they said that orcs often bore, but was discouraged by the other's suspicious glare before she could tell for certain. The rest were of a race she'd never seen before: Men, or so she assumed. The casual onlooker might take the big one for an orc as well. Then there was the little foxy fellow, who was about as disgustingly pathetic and abject as anyone she'd met. He would have done well to take the horses' example as she herself did. And the other man? Ah, it mattered not. She tossed back her hair in contempt of all of them and their ugly smiles. They would lead her to better things, whether they cared to or not.

And then there was the bag, which had stretched out slightly with what Hithduiniel thought was a resigned sigh. Ah, yes, the bag. She reined in the horse slightly and was surprised when it obediently slowed. She would very much like a better view. Ozracles, however, had sharper eyes than she'd given him credit for (though everything she had ever learned had told her that Men were half-blind as well as half-deaf). "You admire our bag, do you, elfmaiden? Perhaps you'd like one?"

She didn't flinch. "Surely it would be a grievious discourtesy to take your bag, when you've already had to supply me with a horse and food?"

"Who said anything about food?"

And there he had her; she was most certainly at their mercy in more ways than she'd cared to consider. She could think of no better retort than to smirk haughtily at him and ride on ahead.

And to look ahead. The huge empty treeless expanse of the plain stretched out before her. She fought the impulse to shut her eyes and stop the horse. "O Orome," she whispered, as the horse slowed of its own accord.

Himelilek noticed her pallor and began to laugh. Thorondruin rode up beside her and kicked her horse, which began cantering again, without a start at the assault.

"Do you think you're in a walking party?" he asked roughly.

Yes. "Where am I to think I am? You've told me nothing."

"Very true. Keep it at a canter," he answered, speeding up himself. Hithduiniel made a face at his back. Orcs, all of them. Who did they think they were dealing with here?

Not, she answered herself, someone who didn't realize how much would have to be revealed when they camped.

[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Phoenix Solitude]

Carathon leaned forward to get a good look at the newcomer. He rode up to her, silently, so she did not know he was coming.
"Hello." The girl jumped. "You shouldn't ride with us. They are bad. They'll hurt you."
The girl seemed surprised by his way of speaking. He repeated it in elvish. Still she looked confused.
"Do you not speak our language?" he whispered. He shook his head slightly.
"I'm Carathon. who are you?"

[Susan Delgado]

Throndruin rode his horse brusquely between Carathon and Hithduiniel, to separate them. "No talking!" He shouted as he rode past.

Hithduiniel followed him to the front of the group. "What do you mean, 'no talking'? I can talk if I want!" She said with Elvish ire.

Thorondruin threw back his head and laughed. He said, "Not when I'm in charge! Right now, you do what I say, and that's ride!"

Ozracles rode up behind the girl and grabbed her reins. "Want me to teach her a lesson? There's some trees over there. It'll be nice and private."
He started to lead the Hithduiniel's horse in that direction, but let go with a sigh when Thorondruin said, "No, Ox, there's no time. Right now, we ride!" He spurred his horse to a full gallop and the others followed, some with less enthusiasm than others.

Sorry for my long mental absence (that is, for not posting)

[Childlike Empress]

Lenilos watched the thieves carry off not only his sister, but half the winter store of food as well. For a minute he couldn't do anything but stare at the horses' departing tails, then he ran toward the main house to get help. Halfway there, he remembered that no one was home other than him and his sister. He kicked a rock and ran back toward the barn. Looked like he'd have to just follow on his own.

He started to saddle his horse, but realized that if he wanted to sneak behind them and not be noticed, he'd have to go on foot. A horse would be too noticible. he quickly packed some food and supplies and started after them.

He followed at a distance until they left the trees and started riding across the grasslands East of the forest. Now what was he supposed to do? There was not a tree or bush for hundreds of leauges, almost to the foot of the Ered Luin. Where were they going, anyway? Osiriand? What would a bunch of men want in Osiriand? Nervously, he pranced from foot to foot. What was he to do? If he left the trees, they'd notice him for sure. Maybe he should have taken a horse after all, risked being noticed so he could ride up behind his sister's horse and grab her and ride away before the others could catch him. It was too late now though, he didn't have a horse and that was that. If only he could steal one of their's! They had a lot more horses than a group that size would need.
The decision was finally made for him. It was either follow them at a greater didtance than he had been so far, or stand here forever and let them go completely out of sight, even his Elvish sight. With a sigh, he started off carefully, slowly and quietly, hoping he wouldn't be seen.

[Kettle of fish]

The boy knew not to waste time, but to get down to business straight away. When life was uncertain, you ate your bread quickly to avoid it getting stolen.

"Where exactly are you going?" he asked, finger poised on the coin to spin it a second time.

As he waited for the answer, he mentally rearranged the top nine best ways to get out of the inn. With that huge block a man moving closer to the bar, number three and five had considerably changed...

[Belin]

Remdil stared at the ragged urchin for a few moments. What difference could one place or another make to a boy like this, who slept in streets and ate what he could get? What was destination to one whose alternative was to go nowhere? The question was as absurd as the boy's presence.

"We'll stay here, for the moment," he answered. "We had a late start, I'll admit, but we may have still arrived before the--the people we seek." The word that had come first to his mind struck him as unsuitable for one so young, not to mention undignified before elves. "Or they may be here already. You know the news of the town, of course?" he added as the boy suddenly began to strike him as at least modestly useful. Eolinda did think of everything, after all.

"Do you think they're stupid?" suddenly put in the Elf, who had been rather silent ever since they had reached Neniant. She was staring at him with an expression that (for once) more closely approximated curiosity than impertinence.

Remdil blinked blankly at her for a moment before answering.

"Only a great fool would leave a town with nothing to eat and anger behind him."

Dineniel rolled her eyes at him. "Is that you this time, or is that your grandfather speaking again?"

"Who are you to talk about my grandfather?" cried Remdil. Even the supposedly oblivious innkeeper flinched slightly.

"All right, you lunatics, enough," said Eolinda. She turned the boy, who had been watching attentively. "We aren't certain where we may end up," she told him in a very polite, almost apologetic tone. "But we'll follow our daughter and whoever is with her. We can't say where they're going" --Remdil sat up straight as a jolt ran through his memory-- "but such is the nature of our purpose, d'ye see?" She leaned toward him, and something about her hard, shrewish face struck him as suddenly... "tragic" was the word he would have used, had he known of such things.

[Susan Delgado]

Peering into her face, the boy suddenly remembered Blind Tobey and the other little kids back at the camp. He remembered his mother's face before she went away, when he'd been happy. He remembered a time when he was very young, before Blind Tobey had come, when he had watched in astonishment as his slender mother grew suddenly fat and then thin again and how she'd cried when she told him he wouldn't have a sister after all. He remembered the desolation he'd felt when he'd returned home and found her gone without a trace. And in the midst of this string of memories, he realised that this woman was looking for her own daughter. She and he were on opposite sides of the same gulf, staring at each other. If he'd known the terms, the boy might have said their feas were intertwined. As it was, all he could do was sit there and stare at this woman he'd never met, but whom he knew better than anyone in the world.

Eolinda got none of this, of course. All she saw was the boy staring at her wide eyed, saying nothing. It was very unnerving. She glanced around at the others, but it seemed she was on her own; Dineniel was studiously staring at the ceiling and Remdil nursed his ale as if it were the last he'd ever have. She cleared her throat to speak, but before she could, the boy woke from his revery.

"I'll go with you," the boy said, garnering the full attention of Remdil and Dineniel as well as Eolinda.

"You will?" Eolinda was a bit surprised. The boy had been so reticent!

The boy nodded. "I'll help you find your
daughter. But you have to help my family too."

Remdil snorted. "Can't be much of one, on the street," he muttered under his breath. One of the women kicked him under the table, causing him to wince.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Dineniel asked more politely.

"I want you to give food to Blind Tobey and some of the other children in the town."

The others stared at him.

Eventualy, Remdil broke the silence. "Food...for all the children in Neniant?"

"No, no, only a dozen or so. The ones that're under my protection. Look, do you want my help or not? This is my condition." He sat back and waited for the others' responses.

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

>Sorry if this isn't up to Sol's standards<
Carathon tried hard to stay in the saddle. It was raining hard now, and everytime he allowed himself to be jolted out of the saddle, it got soaked, and he would get wet. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot across the sky, and his horse reared, throwing him off and into a puddle of mud.
"What" he thought angrily, getting up amidst laughter (mostly Oz's) "Is it with me and muddy puddles?" He looked for his horse, but it was nowhere to be found. He ran behind for a while, but finally pulled up the courage to run up alongside Thoronduin's horse.
"Excuse me, uh, sir, uh,Thoronduin. My horse ran away."

[Kettle of fish]

"Nobody strange has come through yet. Cept for you lot."

The boy paused.

"I'm going with you. I have to, anyway, cos Gus tells me. And listening to Gus is what keeps you alive, everyone knows that."
He looked at the uncomprehending faces before him.

"You know, Gus." he continued, pointing to his stomach.

"I think he means 'guts'" Remdil interjected.

"Yeah, Gus. Gus is that little voice here," again he pointed, "that's real smart, even smarter than your brain sometimes. Which is obvious of course since the food goes straight there. Plus, there's more Gus than brains to think with."

The urchin had become very serious now. Some people say that everyone has a religion of some sort, that everyone deeply and fervently believes in something. And the boy wanted to show that while he was still cautious of the three adults before him, he was going to trust them for now because Gus told him.

"You always gotta listen to Gus. If you don't, he stops talking. That's why some of these fellows have big Gus but are stupid as rocks." He indicated a nearby pot-bellied oaf.

He was glad he had remembered about the food for his 'family'. That would also give him a chance to say last farewells and officially hand over guardianship to Blind Tobey by giving him the star shaped piece of blue glass he always carried with him. And of course he'd have to carve his name on the Great Wall...

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Kettle of fish ]

[Susan Delgado]

Well, it's been a week and everyone involved seems basically ok with what I wrote, so I'm posting it. smilies/smile.gif

edited, per Belin's suggestions.

==========================================

"Excuse me, uh, sir, uh, Thorondruin. My horse ran away." He had to repeat himself several times before he spoke loud enough for Thorondruin to hear him.
--------------------------------------

Thorondruin was already annoyed with the sudden downpour when he heard Carathon's twittering to his stirrup.
"What do you want?" He snapped.

Carathon nervously took a step back. "My horse ran away," He repeated.

"So? What do you want me to do about it?" Thorondruin didn't bother taking his eyes off the hills in the distance

"Well, I thought I could ride with you," Carathon answered. Reasonable enough.

Thorondruin looked down and stared for a moment before realising that the boy was serious. "Ha!" He laughed, "Why would I let you do that? There's half a dozen perfectly fine horses right back there." He gestured toward the remuda with his chin, then resumed his study of the hills.

Carathon looked doubtfully between the spare horses and the barbarian riding between them and himself. He started to take a step toward them, but Ozracles resolutely put his horse in Carathon's path and said, "Not my horses. Go back and find your own if you're so desperate to ride rather than walk. Carathon turned hopefully back toward Thorondruin and when he found no help (or interest) there, he went at last toward Hithduiniel. She seemed inclined to let him ride, but Thorondruin shouldered his mount between them before Carathon could mount.
"We said 'no'," Thorondruin stated and kicked his mount into a canter as if to make his point. He grabbed Hithduiniel's reins as he passed so she was forced to go along. Ozracles, Himelilek, and the horses followed and Hithduiniel gave him an apologetic look over her shoulder before they all disappeared over a rise.

Carathon stared after them in shock. Had they all just abandoned him in the middle of a grassland who knew where? Well, he'd just have to find that horse, though he wasn't at all sure he still wanted to be with these people.
He looked around to see if he could spot his horse, perhaps grazing not far away, but he didn't see it anywhere. It must have really taken off! The one interesting thing he did see he thought to be a mirage at first. It looked like a boy, a bit older than himself, walking toward him through the grass. As it drew nearer, he saw that it was a boy, or rather an Elf, albeit a very young one. He waited as the Elf drew nearer.

-------------------------------------

Lenilos wasn't sure he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen. Had the people who were holding Hithduiniel really left someone behind? Maybe it was her! Maybe they'd decided they really didn't need her and let her go! In his excitement, he broke into a run and promptly tripped over...nothing, as far as he could tell, but he did manage to catch himself before he fell completely to the ground. He hoped whoever was over there hadn't seen his lack of grace.

As he drew nearer, he could see that it wasn’t his sister, but a foxy little Man instead. Hoping his disappointment didn’t show on his face, he approached. He stopped a dozen paces away and the two studied each other for a few moments. “Hello,” He said at last.

The other looked at him blankly. Hmm. Maybe he didn't speak Sindarin. He tried again in Quenya, then kicked himself. How would a Man know Quenya? Lenilos considered for a moment while the Man gave him odd looks and stepped a few paces farther away.
The man said something in the common tongue and Lenilos shook his head in frustration. His knowledge of that language was rudimentary at best. The man caught the shake and repeated himself more slowly.

"My name is Carathon," he said, pointing at his chest, "What is your name?"

"Lenilos," The Elf repeated, mimicking the gesture toward his chest. He thought for a moment and said, "Why you here?" and indicated the plain.

Carathon continued to speak slowly, but to Lenilos' relief he didn't seem to be speaking any sort of pidgin speech. "I'm looking for my horse. Why are you here?"

Lenilos frowned. He'd lost his horse? How irresponsible of him.
"My sister. She is..." He paused. He didn't know the next word. Finally he continued with, "She is with Men. The Men...took her. She did not want them to take her."

"Oh!" Carathon exclaimed and then started speaking very fast. Seeing Lenilos' confusion, he began again more slowly. At least Lenilos could only assume he'd begun again. "Is your sister Hithduiniel?" Lenilos nodded excitedly. "I know her. I just escaped from those men myself!"

Escaped? What was that? OH! Lenilos took a step away. This was one of the Men who'd taken Hith! How else could he know who she was? He rose to his full height, which was considerably taller than Carathon and demanded to be taken to Hithduiniel at once. Unfortunately, he spoke Sindarin, so it was lost on the boy.

Carathon cringed. What had he said wrong? He'd realised who this Elf must be, that's all. Maybe he'd misunderstood a word, or, or... "NO!!" He screamed as Lenilos ran toward him, hands raised as if in attack. Lenilos stumbled to a halt a few paces away and stared at Carathon in disgust. He was babbling the same few words over and over and cringing like he thought he was going to die. Lenilos snorted and turned away. He'd find Hithduiniel on his own. He didn't need a groveling creature like that. As he waled away, though, he heard Carathon softly say, "Wait, don't go," and turned. Maybe the boy had something else to say?

Carathon was quite relieved when Lenilos stopped his approach, but when he started to leave, Carathon couldn't let it happen. Lenilos needed him to find his sister. "Wait," He called to Lenilos' retreating back. When the Elf turned, he continued, "The men took your sister. The men took me. I escaped. Your sister can escape too." He nodded vigorously to show Lenilos that he really intended to help him. Lenilos thought for a moment, then turned back. Carathon sighed with relief. He wouldn't be alone now, and he'd be able to help someone in need.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[ November 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Carathon bit his bottom lip. Lenilos was taller and stronger than him, and to the small, scared boy, he seemed like Oz, only not as fat and with loads more hair.
Carathon straightened up like Lenilos and drew his knife.
"I'll be good. I promise." Lenilos seemed puzzled, but Carathon smiled and waved his knife.
"I like your sister. She was nice to me." He indicated Lenilos, then waved is knife in the air in the pattern of long hair, then pointed to himself.

[Childlike Empress]

Lenilos luged bacwards. Carathon was threatening him with a knife! What was wrong with the boy?
He had no knife, but he raised his hands, ready to fight, a wild look in his eyes. In one hand he held the vegetable sack, which might be heavy enough to disract Carathon long enough for Lenilos to disarm him.

Carathon was astonished. "Oh, no! It's not-I didn't mean-" He threw down the knife.

Lenilos was now extremely confused. He lowered the sack, but didn't come any closer. The boy was strange and unpredictable and Lenilos still wasn't sure he wanted to have anything to do with him.

[Halbereth Diagona]

Frowing, Carathon picked up his knife and stuck it in his belt. For one with the mind of a dim, good natured, extremly naive ten- year-old, Carathon was rather hurt by Lenilos' expression as he lay down the sack he was carrying. Carathon pulled out some herbs he had picked the day before (although it is doubtful he knew how to use them) and handed them to Lenilos with a small, shy smile. Lenilos took them, looking puzzled, but saw Carathon meant well, so nodded roughly. Carathon backed away to stand by a tree, twisting his fingers together. he did not want to make conversation, so there was an awkward silence for a while.

[Belin]

Remdil calculated. How long had it been? A couple of days, at any rate, and the horse hadn't gained him quite the advantage he'd hoped for. Certainly it had been long enough for them to get here. Were they loitering somewhere? Were they already in town, behaving quietly, so that this boy would never know they were there? Somehow he doubted it. Or possibly (a thought that gave him more pleasure than he had expected) their horses had fallen down and broken their legs and they'd set upon each other and they were all lying out there together, broken bodies in the rain, without Livia, who'd run away at the first opportunity.

"Stop that," said Dineniel, slightly disquieted by the unsettling and uncharacteristically grim smile that was creeping across Remdil's face.

He cleared his throat. "Are they coming, do you think?"

He was looking at Eolinda, but it was Dineniel who answered. "No, I don't. I think they're far from here and I think they probably laugh at us every day. I think we need faster horses, and someone who can track. Fortunately, you're traveling with me."

Remdil opened his mouth, but Eolinda was already nodding and counting the money. "We don't have much food with us," she was telling the urchin. "We'll have to buy some. And no," she added, in answer to her husband's groan, "I don't think it will take more time than we can afford. We need whom we need. And if you can't stomach the notion of feeding starving children, I may need to wake up your Gus."

"Right," said Dinenial. "I'll get some horses, you get some food, Remdil, you can... well, go with her and think about way east. I'll meet you outside the gates in an hour."

She moved off, quickly disappearing among the men. Remdil wondered if they'd ever see her again, but the next moment Eolinda was taking his arm and quietly leading him outside, the boy ahead of them.

[Belin]

Hithduiniel was attempting to master an art she had never before considered: silence. She rode slightly behind the others, listening to their talk. She understood almost nothing, since Himelilek was no longer translating for her. But she wanted to understand. She wanted something, some word, some clue as to where they were going. But they were a group of two men and one fairly fluent elf, and they didn't randomly lapse into talk she could understand.

It began delicately to darken. Hithduiniel was watching the sky with some eagerness. When they camped, everything would come out. It always did in the stories.

The two men had finally lapsed into silence. They had not been shouting at each other, but their voices had held some tension that was probably related to the departure of the fox-boy. It was Himelilek who finally broke in, with a wave of her hand for which Hithduiniel had great hopes.

The men barked at her. She answered, subduing them, but they continued to ride. Hithduiniel, with great effort, held her tongue.

She was rewarded. Himelilek had taken to occasional muttering in Sindarin, her native language, when she had things to say that were, well, not for public ears. She fell back on the habit now, forgetting Hithduiniel.

"Fool men and fool stones," she muttered, "if the Silmaril isn't what they say it is...."

Hithduiniel sat stunned. The horse, uncooperative as ever, slowed hopefully.

Thorondruin, of course, noticed and looked back at her. "Well?" he said. For the first time since he'd met her, all look of mockery had disappeared from Hithduiniel's face. Her lips moved slightly, but she didn't speak.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded of Himelilek. She shrugged.

"The stones that draw madness," said Hithduiniel. Himelilek did not translate.

"What's she saying?"

"She's raving. Don't worry about it."

Hithduiniel closed her eyes, trying to remember what she'd heard. "Fast through the forest they found their way, noble and noted, princes of Noldor. Terrible they are to tell, the tales of the mighty, but now what I know: friendship they sought not." She shuddered.

"She's raving? What do you mean, she's raving? We've picked up a lunatic?" Ozracles's voice grew louder. Clearly, his quest was doomed always to be burdened by one fool after another.

"I think she's probably tired," answered Himelilek shortly. "What did I say about camping?"

"You're fools; they'll kill you, they kill everybody. Do you not know this?" Hithduiniel's alarm spoke through her dislike.

"Does she have to talk at all, Himelilek?" put in Thorondruin.

"Can we camp soon?"

"Fine. One hour."

Himelilek spoke quickly to Hithduiniel, strongly advising silence, and silence she got.

[Susan Delgado]

Fool women, Thorndruin thought sourly. He'd have to keep an eye on them. Though he didn't speak Sindarin, Hithduiniel's voice had sounded a bit too cadenced to really be the ravings of a lunatic. She'd almost sounded like she was reciting a poem. Which meant that Himelilek had mistranslated, which meant she and Hithduiniel were probably in collusion. He glanced over at Ozracles to judge his reaction, and he did seem agitated. That was no judge, though; he always looked agitated.
This time, though, he looked slightly more agitated than normal, but he wasn't looking at the Elves; he was staring around them at the plain and the trees. Since the barbarian had no thoughts to be agitated over, he had probably seen something amiss.

"What's the matter?" He called to the other man.

Ozracles looked around, apparently annoyed at having been interrupted. "What?"

"What are you staring at? You've been scowling at the trees for an hour now."

Ozracles shook his head. "Just wondering where that idiot boy went to. He took the horse too."

Thorondruin shrugged and turned away. They had other horses, and Carathon was a burden. They could get along without him. He turned instead to Himelilek. "Here, you said you knew where the Silmaril is. Time to pay for your passage. Where is it?"

Himelilek looked at him out of the corner of her eye and he frowned. She seemed to be laughing at him. She turned slightly toward Hithduiniel and said something in Sindarin. Hithduiniel looked surprised for a moment and then began giggling. She continued this irriting activity for some time, ignoring Thorondruin's scowls.

"Himelilek," He repeated with an outward calm he didn't feel.

"Yes, glorious leader?" She responded, still smirking.

Thorondruin ignored the disrespect. "Where is the Silmaril? What aren't you telling me?"

Himelilek reined in her horse and rose up in the saddle to look around. Ozracles paused and watched what she was doing. After several moments of staring into the distance, she said, "Oh, it's that way, I think."

"South? We've been going North. How long were you going to allow us to keep going in this direction?"

Himelilek shrugged and prodded her horse into moving again. She went North.

Ozracles frowned. "How far is it?"

She looked back and smiled sweetly. A terrible smile. "What?" She asked mildly.

"You heard me. How far away are we?"

She shrugged again. "Can't be more than a few hundred miles. They live far South, you know." She rolled her eyes at the mens' blank looks and explained: "Beren and Luthien. The people you're planning to steal the Silmaril from. Are you coming?" This time, she turned her horse South and urged it into a gentle canter. The others could do no more than follow, though some of the men looked slightly murdeous.
Only Hithduiniel caught a glimpse of Carathon hiding a distance away and watching them. He was all alone and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He didn't even have his horse anymore. Wait...she looked closer. He wasn't alone at all, someone was watching with him. It almost looked like-She pulled her horse into a stop so quickly it nearly sat back on its haunches. That was Lenilos over there! He'd followed her! She nearly sent her horst toward him, then thought of the figure in the sack. She couldn't leave someone in such a situation, and anyway, if she left now, she'd be caught again and so would Lenilos. She'd do it tonight, when they all were asleep, and she'd take the sack-figure with her. Quickly she caught up with the others, acting as if nothing had happened.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Susan Delgado]

Eolinda watched the Elf disappear into the crowd and wished her luck. For a horse thief and general ruffian, the woman had been surprisingly steadfast. With a flip of her skirt, she gestured for Remdil to follow and turned after the boy. He was already nearly lost in the crowd; obviously he expected them to follow.

They stopped at several stalls in the marketplace, buying what Eolinda considered good, solid, well keeping staples, potatoes, grains, beans, and others. She got some fresh fruit too, because everyone needed fresh fruit and she suspected the children had done without. She considered them more of a treat anyway; she thought they probably wouldn't last long.
After they'd finished buying the food, Eolinda asked for details about the children. The boy gave them, looking mystified. When she stopped at a stall selling clothing and bought enough clothes and blankets to last each child all the way through the winter, he could only stare. This hadn't been part of the deal! When he questioned it, however, she merely shushed him and kept buying.

Remdil stared too, but for a different reason. He considered his money hard won, and Eolinda dipped deeper into the sack with every purchase. He sighed...he knew from long years of experience that there was nothing he could do about it.

They delivered Eolinda's purchases to the children, who were much more astonished than the boy had ever seemed to be, and gave the boy a few private moments to say goodbye. The moments turned into minutes and Remdil chafed at the delay. Eolinda seemed perfectly serene, however, and content to wait. Finally, the boy returned, having expended nearly the entire hour Dineniel had given them. He seemed a bit sadder, but at the same time lighter, as if a weight had left his shoulders. Silently, the three made their way back to the gate, where Dineniel waited nervously. It seemed she'd nearly been seen and had been waiting for a very long time. She was eager to go.

They mounted their new, stronger horses and set off. The boy rode behind Remdil, who was none too pleased about it, but the boy refused to ride the horse Dineniel had procured for him.

At Dineniel's suggestion, they rode slowly back toward Garolin. Dineniel that she might be able to find where they'd turned off the trail, despite the time and the rain. She couldn't. After half a day's searching, they stopped halfway between the two towns and for the first time began to consider that maybe the kidnappers had never even travelled on this road but had struck a trail through the trackless forest instead.

They made camp. Over an expertly prepared rabbit stew, they discussed their options, but found mighty few of them. They went to bed without coming to a conclusion about what they should do.

In the morning, they did the only sensible thing they could. Since Dineniel said the brigands were after the Silamril, they rode hard toward Ossiriand, where the Elf thought Beren and Luthien lived, though she seemed not entirely certain. They rode hard all that day and the next.

[ November 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

It started to rain again, but that hardly mattered to the big, bald barbarian. He was not a man of virtues and patience was one he would have least of all, if he ever had any.

"A hundred miles isn't too far. At full gallop we can cover thirty a day." Ozracles growled. "It is about time we laid claim on the jewels and make good it's bounty."

Himelilek nodded in agreement, carefully keeping away as much of the pelting rain from her as possible. The pack of horses they had gathered from the horse thieves tethered close to them, their bundled captive all but forgotten.

Thorondruin gave some thought to Ozracles suggestion, scratching his stubbled chin, he grunted, "Mayhap it is possible, I too grow tired of this journey. You had better be right, elfmaid," he added, glaring at Hithundiel, "I will not brook any treachery."

"Neither will we," sneered Ozracles, fingering the hilt of his savage blade.

Himelilek said nothing but her sharp, elven eyes detected the look of alarm in the other elfmaid's eyes. Though it was not quite from what the men had to say, but more from what she had sensed. She had seen something she intended to keep quiet about and Himelilek decided to keep a close look on Hithundiel. Something didn't quite fit in about her.

[Childlike Empress]

Lenilos and Carathon stared at each other for a few more minutes, until Lenilos suddenly perked up his ears and looked off into the distance over Carathon's shoulder. Horses, and voices. Carathon turned to see what Lenilos was looking at, then cried out in astonishment when Lenilos grabbed his collar and pulled him down into the grass. "What!" He nearly shouted, and was silenced with Lenilos's hand across his mouth.
Lenilos didn't have the words to say what he wanted to, but he would try. "Horses. There. You see?" He and Carathon peered over the tops of the grass and wathced as the horse riders went past. One of them stopped momentarily and peered at them. Lenilos thought he recognized his sister, but she spurred her horse on without acknowledging that she'd seen them. Now why would she do that? He shook his head and stood up. Carathon followed and said something that Lenilos couldn't understand, though he was addressing the Elf. Lenilos shook his head and Carathon repeated himself more slowly. "That was the Elf I was with."

Lenilos nodded. "My sister." He added her name for good measure.

"What are we going to do now?"

Lenilos hesistated to be certain he understood, then said, "We follow. In night, they..." he frowned, not knowing the word. "Stop to sleep," he finally concluded.
Carathon nodded and gave him the common tongue word for "camp". Lenilos nodded and tried the word a few times before continuing. "When they...camp...we go there and Hithduiniel can leave."

Carathon considered and then nodded. That ought to work. But he too had seen her look and them and continue after the others. "What if she doesn't want to leave?" He asked.

Lenilos frowned, not understanding, and Carathon shook his head. It really wasn't a concern he could translate. Lenilos shrugged and the set off after the others.

[Belin]

Hithduiniel followed the others miserably, thinking only of the water dripping from her hair and the constant ache in her muscles. She hated horses. She hated being silent, and she hated the languages of Men. Come to think of it, she also hated Men. Especially these ones.

The day did not pass quickly. The brigands insisted on keeping the horses at literally dizzying speeds. Hithduiniel rode with her eyes closed, trusting that her horse would follow the others.

The day did not pass quickly, but it did pass. They were nearing the forest again when Thorondruin called a halt. Gratefully, Hithduiniel slid off her horse. With some effort, and the aid of her elvish grace, she managed to remain standing, and within a few moments was struggling to resume some semblance of her customary look of scorn.

"Ready for dinner?" asked Himelilek, with a sneer. Hithduiniel turned a pale face and a rather vacant stare to her, as Thorondruin roughly pulled the sack off its own horse and opened it.

Livia, bruised and discouraged, stared out, unmoving.

----------------------------------------

The rain had abated into a drizzle, nothing serious enough to prevent them from making a small, furtive fire that they'd carefully extinguished before sleeping, and only the light of the brightest of stars shone through the clouds. Hithduiniel lay as still as she could, staring up at that one bright spark in the restless darkness and listening to Ozracles walk back and forth on the watch, which Thorondruin refused to leave to Himelilek any longer. She shivered in the thin blanket they'd provided, planning. Livia was once again in a sack, at a distance from her that would have seemed short under other circumstances. But Hithduiniel had great confidence in her own quiet feet, as well as the wooden knife she carried in her boot to fight off unfriendly beasts.

In the distance, another pair of travelers had used less care in making their fire. Ozracles stared suspiciously into the distance as the delicate odor of far-off smoke came to his nostrils. What would anyone be doing out here? He moved toward the smell, frowning. He knew that elf-girl would be nothing but trouble, and surely she was somehow responsible for this.

Hithduiniel silently got to her hands and knees and crawled over the wet stones to where the strange girl lay. Her knife was out before she got there, and, as carefully as she could, she sliced the bag open.

Livia started. The wet air came in upon her suddently, and a figure was leaning over her, whispering something she didn't exactly understand, and the next moment she was being pulled to her feet and a knife placed in her hand. "Who are you?" she hissed.

"Come on," answered the Elf, in a language that was almost Sindarin. Livia sighed suddenly, remembering Tannor, and the lessons he'd given her in that language. Home seemed infinitely far away, and she wondered if she would ever see him again. Bit Hithduiniel was tugging on her arm. The presence of mind Livia had picked up living in an inn did not abandon her. "Horses?" she suggested, pointing. The Elf only made a face and tugged her along, but Livia clicked quietly at one of the horses, and it came up behind them.

"Had enough of our company already, have you?"

Ozracles stood before them, glowering. Livia tried to suppress her sharp intake of breath as Hithduiniel seized her wrist and hesitated. The wind changed, and the sky rumbled.

It was impossible to say whose impulse had driven it, but suddenly Ozracles was much closer to them then he had been, as if he'd lunged forward, and the knife had leapt forth to meet him.

He wore no armor. The knife buried itself between his ribs. Two pairs of eyes in two pale faces stared at him in the suddenly pouring rain and the startling flash of lightning, as they all stood frozen and silent. Hithduiniel had never looked at the barbarian's face closely before, and was suddenly afraid of his clenched jaw and glazed eyes, barely visible in the close-pressing darkness. Livia's fingers loosened from the knife's hilt, and the barbarian tumbled forward with a horrible gurgling sound.

"You're a murderer," whispered Hithduiniel.

"Me? You were the one that--"

"O Oromë, he's still alive."

The bulky figure, prone and struggling, reached toward them. More moments passed. The lightning flashed again, and Hithduiniel hoarsely whispered, "Run."

They ran.

[ November 22, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[ November 23, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin rolled away from the fire. He wasn't asleep, though he was trying. Stupid as Ox was, Throndruin was prepared to admit he probaably had enough experience as a fighter to keep a decent wary eye out. And it wasn't as if he himself could stay up all night at watch, nor could he trust that conniving Elf, so he didn't really have a choice about letting Ox stand guard.

He rolled over again, restless, still unable to sleep. He pullled out the large rock digging into his spine, but all that did was leave a hole, which was almost as bad. Then it suddenly started to rain. Great!
Growling, he started to pull the blanket over his head to block the worst of the waterfall when he stopped. Had he heard something? He glanced over at Himelilek but she seemed to be asleep. He made a similar glance at Hithduiniel and leapt to his feet in alarm. She was gone! Where was that idiot barbarian that he wasn't watching the prisoners? He'd started around the fire when the rain stopped as suddenly as it had started, but he gave it only passing attention because by that time he'd seen the body lying across the clearing. He also noticed the sack Livia had been in torn open and empty and cursed under his breath as he approached the figure on the ground.

Ozracles, sure enough. He nudged the body with his foot and was startled when it let out a weak groan. He knelt down and rolled the barbarian over, exposing the knife sticking out of his side. He pulled it out and examined it, peripherally noting the increase of bloodflow when he did so.

The knife wasn't one he recognised, and it wasn't the one they'd taken from Livia when she escaped the first time; it must have belonged to Hithduiniel.
He looked back at the man on the ground and growled. Why hadn't Ozracles been watching? He could have prevented himself from being stabbed at all, but now Thorondruin had to deal with his inattentiveness. Ah, well, nothing to do but wake Himelilek. She could heal him, surely.
He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping Elf and reconsidered his original plan to wake her himself. She was heavily armed and such an action would probably get him stabbed as well, so he threw a rock instead. Nice and distant, so when she sprang up fighting, he was still relatively safe. He called her over to examine the wounded man, and she came. Irritated or not, she was still the healer of the group.

---------------------------------------------

"I can't heal this."

"What?"

"You heard me. Whoever stabbed him punctured his lung and severed an artery in his chest. He's bleeding, inside as well as outside. My herbs can do nothing for such a wound. If we were in one of the cities of my people, they might be able to do something, but as it is, there's nothing I can do. He's going to die." Himelilek sat back on her heels and embraced herself. Her arms were covered in blood halfway to her shoulders, and the front of her tunic was solidly red.

Throndruin didn't know what to think beyond, Damn those girls!
He said, "Well, can't we stop the bleeding? Just hold the wound there." He began to suit action to word, but the Elf stopped him.

"You don't understand. He's bleeding inside his body. There's no way to put pressure inside, so putting pressure outside would be a waste of effort."

Thorondruin frowned. What she said was beyond his comprehension. He thought for a moment, then said, "What do we do?"

She looked over at Ozracles and shook her head. He was unconcious from loss of blood and she wasn't sure how much longer he had.
"I don't know," she murmered. She may have been a thief and a murderer, but she was still an Elf with an Elf's love of life and beauty, and as a healer she hated being unable to help a wounded comrade.

Thorondruin stood up tall and pulled out his knife. "Well, if there's nothing we can do to save him, why leave him like this? Anyway, he'd be nothing but a burden until he died naturally."
He reached toward the man on the ground, but before he could do more than start his motion, Ozracles gave an odd, whistling sigh, twitched twice, and lay still again.

Himelilek leaned over to examine him, then got her feet and looked down at the barbarian for a long moment.

"He's dead," she said at last.

[ November 23, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Cimmerian]

"Quite Dead!" the elf reiterated, as the tall rogue leaned over in disbelief.

"A little dagger," Thorondruin mumbled, "That's all it took to kill this gigantic bulk. This heap of muscle who could take down half a cohort all his own."

"Ironic, isn't it," grinned Himelilek, standing up. She placed a hand on her companion's shoulder. "What do we do now, leader?"

"We'll wrap his body in some of these sacks and set it downriver." The lanky man mumbled, still shaking his head.

Himelilek agreed and began cutting up some of the older sacks. As she worked she wondered who could have pulled off this almost assassin like strike. Ozracles was not the brightest of men, but he had great skills with the broadsword. She was a witness to this herself. It had to be someone exceptionally skilled or just dumb lucky to get Ozracles.

"Done!" she said and walked over to Thorondruin as he proceeded to lay out the sacks on the ground.

Having placed the barbarian's large corpse onto its makeshift sarcophagus, Himelilek and Thorondruin placed the tightly bound sack over the dead man's large black horse.

"I'll take the stallion," Himelilek said suddenly, startling Thorondruin. The man nodded slowly, his thoughts resting on the two girls.

They made their way toward the nearest river.

[Belin]

Remdil pressed his horse ahead, resisting the temptation to think, since he disliked the directions he knew his thoughts would take. The situation was not, could not be hopeless; they had two guides and Eolinda with them.

These authorities themselves seemed less sanguine about their possibilities. Nobody had spoken for hours, and the silence was as grim as the boy's deathgrip on Remdil's waist.

On they rode, through the rain. As the days passed, Remdil grew more and more successful at avoiding the disturbing ideas that plagued the others. As the boy looked grave, as Eolinda grew tense and even Dineniel became moodier, Remdil simply gained in intensity. He didn't know whether it had been two days, or three, or four, but there was a hill, over there, which he could very well imagine, and a tree, under which sat Livia.....

Eolinda worried as much about him as about her daughter. His fevered, restless eyes troubled her, and there was something about his careless willingness to ride on all night, if she didn't stop him, that she didn't entirely like either. She wondered if he were ill, but she hesitated to speak to him of such possibilities in his current state of mind.

But the boy was delightful. He listened to every story she told at night, and as she stopped on this particular night, she hoped to hear some of his.

[Childlike Empress]

Lenilos and Carathon were hunched over their roasted carrots and potatoes, both trying hard to pretend they didn't want anything else in the world to eat, when Lenilos heard something and looked up.

Carathon looked around. "What is it?" he asked.

Lenilos put his fingers to his lips to indicate silence and got to his feet. He stealthily slipped into the woods surrounding the camp.
Carathon waited with baited breath the ten minutes it took for Lenilos to return. When he did, he wasn't alone; he had two girls and three horses in tow! Carathon got to his feet, surprised. He was about to ask what was going on, but the Elf held up his hand.

He said, "This is the sister," he frowned and corrected himself. "This is my sister, Hithduiniel. This is Livia. She, hm, left the men... with Hithduiniel." He was about to continue, but Livia put her hand on his arm, a move which startled the young Elf, and quickly explained everything to Carathon. The boy nodded in understanding and said something back to her. She responded, indicating the horses at one point, and the two had a conversation which the Elves could not understand much of, but which left them frustrated. They were not used to being unable to understand when people spoke.

Finally, Livia turned to them and said in passable, if strangely accented, Sindarin, "I told him how we got here and that I was kidnapped. Lenilos, he told me all you have to eat are some vegetables, well, when we took the packhorse, I made sure it was the one carrying all the thieves' food, so we've got enough to last us weeks and weeks if necessary. We should see what else it's carrying. Maybe we got their weapons too." She gave a somewhat feral grin and turned to unload the horses. The others helped and soon they had the brigands' possessions laid out near the fire, where they could see them. There were no weapons and no money, but lots of food, as Livia had said, and aparently the extra bedding, because there were several blankets and some clothing. There were also various small sacks filled with trinkets, some looking very expensive. All in all, a good haul. Add in the stabbing, which was sure to throw the group into chaos even if the barbarian hadn't died (though privately Livia wished he had), and it was a good night.

They put everything from the horse into a neat pile out of the way and used the blankets to get a comfortable night's sleep. Lenilos woke the next morning much refreshed.

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Childlike Empress ]

[Belin]

OOC: Apologies, Childlike Empress, I just had to put something just before the last line of your post........

Hithduiniel was just as glad as Livia (or Carathon for that matter) for good food, a warm fire, and good company, as well as the interesting, though rather ill-fitting, change of clothes they’d found crunched into the saddlebags along with the food. A real adventure, finally—one with mysterious yet faithful companions and time to tell stories, and she was unwontedly silent for a while, as she drank in the welcome sounds of her brother’s voice, speaking sometimes her own language, and sometimes the other, which far less objectionable when spoken brokenly with a strong elvish accent.

And those she had left were nothing to her, really, any more than that pair of foreigners they sought, but it was a thought that preyed on her mind.

“Lenilos,” she said finally, as the dark was beginning to make itself an obstacle to conversation, “do you remember the story that Gaerdulin liked to tell us? The one with the dwarves, and the gray elves, and the terrible princes from across the sea?”

“I thought you didn’t like that story,” answered Lenilos absently, watching the elderly fire creep cautiously along the edges of its coals. “You never sat still for the whole thing, and anyway it didn’t have Orome in it.”

“I like other stories too , you know!” she cried quickly, in a slightly higher voice than usual. “And I did like it. I liked the bit about the princes; they were the scariest. I used to tell that to the birds.”

“They weren’t the scariest. The scariest was the part about the battle, when the newest soldier—you remember him?” She shook her head, but he continued without taking any notice of her. “The newest soldier stood in the hall of the king, and battled with three different dwarves, and they were about to---“

“No, listen ,” interrupted Hithduiniel. “I’m being serious . You remember the part about the stones that draw madness?”

“The Silmarils, how could anyone forget--”

“ Listen. I know something and I don’t know what to do. The brigands want that stone. They’ve ridden here from somewhere else--”

Livia, who was half listening and half understanding, in a dreamlike state of weariness that made the fire delightful, caught this last phrase and quickly put in, “Garolin. My home.”

“From Garolin home of Livia, and they rode into the forest looking for the foreigners, you remember, I don’t know their names, and they’ll probably kill everyone they see and burn down the house and maybe they’ll shoot the birds and I know that isn’t in the story, and do you think we should warn them, Lenilos? Because I don’t want to, but they’re so… you don’t know them.” She shivered.

“Wait, wait. They want the Silmaril?”

Hithduiniel leaned toward Livia. “He’s gone deaf,” she commented loudly.

“No, Hith, you’ve gone deaf. You’ve got to start paying attention to the ends of stories as well as the beginnings.”

She made a face. “But they’re always so sad.”

“Yet useful.” Lenilos smirked slightly, enjoying the moment of suspense. “If you’d listened you would know they’re all gone, years ago. They went away, we don’t know where, but they went off together, and Gaerdulin swears that right there ” -- here he peered up at the sky, and pointed at the brightest of stars that Hithduiniel had been watching the night before—“right there is a star that resembles it exactly. He’d seen the foreigners, you know, and their light, and he’d take no wife after that, nor admire any jewel. In any case, true or not, it’s gone now. They might as well look for Orome’s boots as that thing, silly.”

Hithduiniel leaned forward, with an incredulous sound that was almost a laugh. “Are you serious? Wait, of course you are, I forgot who I was talking to. By Orome’s bootlaces, that’s funny. Won’t they be furious?”

“And to think,” commented her brother dryly, “you missed the chance of telling them so yourself.”

“That’s what comes of being cheerful and preferring birds to doom, like a sane person, I suppose,” she answered, but a moment later she poked Livia in the shoulder to inform her, grinning, that, “My brother is smarter than the brigands.”

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Halbereth Diagona]

Carathon kept his head down as the three Elves laughed. He gazed at the fire, chewing the meat he had been given and continually rolling back the sleeves of the shirt he had borrowed, to replace his tattered one. It must have been Oz's, for it was at least ten sizes too big.
He dared raise his head and look shyly at Livia. He found her very attractive, although he wasn't quite sure what that strange feeling in his stomach was that happened when he looked at her. Livia noticed him and smiled.
Carathon smiled back, and blushed deeply. He leant forward in embaressment, and his coppery red hair fell over his face.

>I was thinking it might be interesting if Carathon ended up in love with Livia, but obviously he doesn't know what it is he feels. Livia can either love him back, or only like him as a friend, or just not like him. Carathon is probably around 17 now I think of it, but he acts more like 10 cos he was raised by wolves.<

[Susan Delgado]

Thorondruin watched the barbarian's body float downstream, then turned away, brushing his hands together for a job well done. They may have lost Ozracles' sword, but he and Himelilek were both fine fighters and they were also rid of the barbarian's stupid recklessness and his impertinentness. He returned to his bedroll and went back to sleep.
He woke with the dawn, but it was not the sun that roused him. It was the decidedly unElf-like screeches of rage coming from across the firepit. He supposed he'd forgotten to tell Himelilek that the girls were gone. He rose and sleepily told her to shut her trap. He disliked being awoken by screaming.

However, it was not the absence of the girls that had upset her; she'd seen the empty bedrolls and taken it philosophically. What had her so worked up was what she'd found when she went to get breakfast off the packhorse. The two little thieves had not only killed Ozracles, they'd taken the packhorse containing all the food and barterables! They had left was Ozracles' stallion, which they'd long since discovered wouldn't let anyone but the barbarian touch him, and the five horses from the raid, and their own mounts. At least they could hunt, although hunting with swords and daggers might possibly be more trouble than it would be worth.

They mounted thier horses, then paused, unsure what to do next. Should they continue on toward the Silmaril, or should they try to find Livia and Hithduiniel and punish them while retrieving their stolen food? Thorondruin wanted to continue on, but Himelilek seemed inordinantly distressed about the loss of the food and wanted to find the girls. Logic finally won out over emotion when the man pointed out that they had no idea where the two had gone and no way finding them and they should save what little food they'd had in their clothing by not backtracking on a futile mission. Himelilek reluctantly agreed, but as they set out, she kept looking behind, as if trying to see something. Thorondruin ignored it.

They rode for several days with no more mishaps, until finally Himelilek stopped them at the base of a hill. She said, "On the other side of this hill is a lake. In the middle of the lake, there's an island. There's a cabin on the island, and there dwell Beren and Luthien."
They settled down for the night, excited that their mission was nearly over.

In the morning, they cautiously approached the cabin, only to find their care unnecessary: the place was deserted. Angrily, Thorondruin set on the Elf.

"Why didn't you tell me they wouldn't be here?!"

"How was I supposed to know?"

"You knew where the cabin was, why wouldn't you know they were gone?"

"Well, it's been a while since I got my information." She shrugged, not really caring very much, and started toward the horses.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

She shrugged again and mounted. "Home. There's obviously nothing here that I want." She took up her reins, then as an afterthought, grabbed Thorondruin's and the rope tying the spares together and went North at a full gallop. Thorondruin barely had time to get out of her way before the horses ran him down. He stared after her, unable to believe she would leave so precipetously, leaving him here. Alone. With no way to get back to civilization. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, but he realised there was nothing he could do about it now. She had gone, and taken everything with her.

With a growl of irritation, he went into the cabin to avoid the rain, which had been off and on for days. Inside, the place was as shabby as the outside had promised. Dust covered everything and cobwebs adorned the corners. It was filthy, and there was nothing left of value that he could find. He curled up in a corner and spent one of the most uncomfortable nights he could remember.

In the morning he rose and shook the dust off his hair and clothing. He discovered that dust wasn't all he'd been lying on, either. Wadded into the corner was something soft and black. Clothing? He pulled it out to examine it. It was a cloak; black as shadow, it actually seemed to absorb the light coming in through the door. He put it on to protect from the rain and iimediately fell into a deep slumber. When he awoke, it was late afternoon and the wind had blown in through the door, causing the black cloak to slip from his shoulders. He picked it up and as he was about to put it back on, he felt the sleep start to come again. How odd. He put it down and felt no need to sleep. After a few more minutes of experimentation, he decided it must have a spell on it. Very odd! Still, even if he couldn't use it himself, it could be useful. He bundled it in his arm and left the cabin, on foot, but he had no other choice. Over the course of many days he made his way back to civilization, and if he was ever tired, he put on the cloak and slept peacefully for hours.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Susan Delgado]

Lenilos woke much refreshed. The thieves' blankets were very warm and when he rose to find that Livia had prepared a hearty breakfast of sausages and biscuits, he hurried out of bed and near the fire. Days of nothing but plain vegetables had given him a raging appetite for real food. Carathon seemed to feel the same way.

After breakfast, the had an argument about where they should go. Lenilos thought his self-imposed mission was over. He'd rescued his sister (in a manner of speaking. He didn't dwell too much on the way she'd really gotten away from the brigands) and that meant he and Hithduiniel could go home now. But they also had Livia to think about. Sometime she'd have to go home too, the question was when. Livia was tired of travelling and wanted to go home immediately, but so was Lenilos. Eventually, everyone realized that if they took Livia home first, they wouldn't have to do any more travelling later. That decided, they set off west toward Garolin.

================================================== =============

Eolinda watched as Remdil took himself more and more away from everyone else. It was worrisome, but she said nothing because discussing it might actually make it worse. He'd had these spells before and he always got over them eventually. Still, it was wise to keep an eye on him.
The fourth day of travelling dawned clear but cold. They rose, ate breakfast, and started on their way East. After several hours, Dineniel paused. She spotted riders on the horizon, four of them. She couldn't be sure if it was the kidnappers or someone else. They continued riding, cautiously.

As they approached, they could see that it was not the kidnappers. In fact-- with a cry of, "Livia!", she dove off her horse and ran toward the others, startling them. Livia jumped off her horse as well and Remdil, now that he'd realised what was going on, was not far behind. The three embraced and soft, tearful voices could be heard from the huddle.

After they separated and introduced each other to everyone else, the eight of them sat down to discuss what they were going to do.
There was little question about where Eolinda, Remdil, and Livia would go when the group spilt up. Few families had been so happy to be reunited. They were sitting a little way off, arms around each other and smiling.
Lenilos, too, was ready to go home. He'd left the farm rather precipetously and his parents probaly wondered what had become of their children.
Dineniel felt a little sad, watching everyone else in their happy families. She had no permanent home, though sometimes she wished she did.
Carathon, too, wished for a home. He wondered if it would be all right if he asked the Garoliners to take him with him when they went home. He was tired of living in the woods, eating whatever he could find, and he'd never seen anyone as pretty as Livia before.
The boy had considred what it would be like to return to Neniant, to go back to Blind Tobey and the other kids and live on the street the rest if his life, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. Like Carathon, he'd seen the possibilities of relocating to Garolin.
Hithduiniel was not paying attention. She seemed to be watching a butterfly instead.

[Belin]

The butterfly was light on the wing, following the wind away toward the sun as she began back toward her own home. Home is where you sleep, thought Hithduiniel, not where you start. Home is where the sun finds its way back into the clouds in the west where Orome lived. Home is —and she watched the newly conscious joy of Livia’s face with a slightly bitter feeling of disapproval— home is the future, not the past.

Home is always far away.

She was just coming out of her reverie when she heard Lenilos, probably under the influence of that sharp-faced woman, volunteering to guide the family part of the way back toward Garolin—“that is, if none of you mind.”

“Oh, yes, let us come with you, Livia!” she put in, suddenly, in the sweetest tones of which her voice was capable. “I’ve never seen a city of Men before.”

Lenilos sent her a sharp glance. That tone usually meant trouble, in his experience, but, as always, she accompanied it by an eager smile that could not possibly be questioned.

Remdil groaned. “How many guides do we need?” he said irritably. “Haven’t there been enough adventurers wandering through our lives—no offense, you know, greatest gratitude in fact, but really, we’re not less intelligent than any old dog that can find its way home.”

“He means,” added Eolinda, more diplomattically, “that of course we’ll have you as guides, with our thanks, if you’re really so little eager to be off home yourselves.”

“It’s hardly worth seeing though,” remarked Livia, startled by Hithduiniel’s eagerness. “And it certainly isn’t a city.”

But the decision had been made, somehow, although it hadn’t been quite what anyone had expressed wanting. They traveled slowly for a day or two, often quiet, often speaking, often surprised at each other’s remarks.


Livia, despite her insecurity at the prospect of Hithduiniel seeing the small, rowdy inn in which she’d grown up, was glad that the elves were with them. Completely aside from her initial awe at the figure who had stood above the slashed-open bag in the thunder and the rain, holding a knife and setting her free, she had come to like Hithduiniel’s wild grins and her silly jokes, as well as the ability of Lenilos to recount any story she’d ever heard in ways that made her father scowl and correct him.

“What do you mean, they were cats?”

Lenilos shrugged. “They were cats. There were hordes of cats that came against the others, and Lenwe said—“

“Who told you this?”

“Everyone knows it,” said Lenilos, with a sideways glance at his inattentive sister, who did not know it.

Livia smiled. Lenilos would certainly have been welcome as a guest at the inn; it would be like the old days, before it had become a place for duels and drinking, before she’d been leered at by barbarians.

Carathon, on the other hand, she was less certain about. He spoke little, and she sometimes forgot that he was there, but when she turned to look at him, he was often watching her. It made her uneasy, in a way.

[Rosseiliantiel]

Dineniel was feeling decidely akward. She really didn't feel like there was much point in going with the rest of the band. Her other option was continuing with her wandering, thieving ways, but that was seeming distinctly less pleasent. It had felt nice to have some structure, some people who were at least not total strangers in her life. What was left for her to do?

Ah, yes. The Silmaril.

[Susan Delgado]

"No."

Remdil was aghast. "'No'? What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I'll not have that boy living in my house." Eolinda was quite firm on this point.

"Why not?"

She turned to face her husband, her expression shocked and unbelieving. She lowered her voice dangerously. "You want him living in our house? With Livia?"

Remdil shrugged. "What's the problem? He doesn't have any other place to go."

"No."

Remdil sighed. She kept saying that, without explaining herself. "Why not?"

"Haven't you seen the way he looks at her?"

Remdil peered around to where Carathon was riding behind them, just out of earshot. He'd asked Remdil if he could stay over the inn with the them, because he didn't have any home, in Garolin or elsewhere. Remdil had promised to talk to Eolinda about it.
And he had not, in fact, noticed Carathon looking at Livia in any particular "way". He looked back at his wife and said, "What way?"

With a snort of frustration, Eolinda kicked her horse into a canter and disappeared over the next ridge. Remdil frowned, but obviouly knew better than to follow her in such a mood.

----------------------
Lenilos had watched the whole thing with a feeling like sympathy. As a completely uninvolved bystander, he could see both their perspectives. It was true that the boy had no home, but he had noticed the way he stared at the girl and he understood where her mother was coming from perfectly. Judging from the way the conversation had gone, he thought poor Carathon was probably still out of a home. He rode back to Carathon and tried to cheer him up, but the boy wasn't stupid. He'd seen the way Eolinda rode away and knew that wasn't a good sign. He didn't want to talk. Hithduiniel was already deep in conversation with Livia. That left only Dineniel to talk to.

------------------------
"Hello."

She looked around, suprised to find her thoughts interrupted. "Oh, hello."

He brought his horse alongside hers and looked up into the cloudy sky. It wasn't raining at the moment. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

She gave him an appraising look. "Was there something specific you wanted to talk about, or are you just bored and want to bother people?"

He frowned. How rude! "Fine. If you don't want a friendly conversation, I'll just go." He turned his horse back toward the middle of the group, but paused when she said, "Wait," in a slightly more civil tone of voice. He turned back.

"I was just wondering where you were going to go after the Men get back to Garolin."

She shrugged. "Don't know."

Oh. They rode on for a while in silence.

[Halbereth Diagona]

&gt; smilies/frown.gif&lt;

Carathon curled up into a ball by a tree. He didn't want to talk, or eat, or ride. He wanted to die.
"Do you really want him in our home? With Livia?"

What was wrong with him? He wasn't dirty, or bad. He liked Livia, he wouldn't hurt her.
Carathon pulled out his journal and slowly wrote:
i asked a ladee if she cud let me liv at her huse with liva but she sed no she sed i luk at her funee i wudnt hurt liva maibeee she thins im bad but im not im vereee sad

[Belin]

Remdil sighed. He wouldn't follow Eolinda--that did no good when she was in such a mood-- but he knew she wouldn't simply abandon them. He was in a mood to be patient; patience had brought Livia back to them (at least, it was easier to believe that it had been patience than Elves), so he simply continued to ride, biding his time and making his plans.

He was right, of course. After about half an hour, she was once again in sight, and she rode slowly and silently, allowing them to catch up, but not speaking. Whatever it was (and he guessed, now; he knew what people meant when they talked like that, and she did all too often), it had clearly upset her much more than it usually did. She stared straight ahead, either angry or lost in thought. Remdil hestitated a moment, steeled himself, and spoke.

"Eolinda?"

She sighed heavily and glanced sideways at him, not turning her head.

"How old is Livia?"

He had her attention now. Eolinda turned to him, full on, eyes blazing. "What?" she demanded.

"Fifteen, almost sixteen, I'd say," continued Remdil in a cautious voice, but one that refused to be intimidated.

"I'm in no mood to plan birthday parties, Remdil."

"I remember your sixteenth birthday," he went on, watching her carefully.

Eolinda's face tightened. "What are you playing at, Remdil?" she asked, her low, dangerous voice returning. Remdil's mind returned momentarily to the army of maurading cats, which must surely have made a similar sound just before attacking. He didn't back down again. This was astonishing.

"I wondered whether you regretted that--" and suddenly he stopped himself. She was staring at him, suddenly smaller, suddenly younger, and for a moment he did not fear her disapproval, but a sudden quiet concern had moved within him. He didn't want to hurt her. His voice became softer, more serious. "Eolinda, you and I were the only ones that wanted us to get married. Nobody else approved of me; I wasn't good enough. And your parents said, 'We'll not have that boy--' "

"Stop!" she cried. He wasn't sure whether she was angry or ready to laugh. Perhaps it was both. Certainly the glisten in her eye was a strange one. "Stop. Tell me what you're getting at."

"Well, they were wrong."

She did laugh, this time. "You, my friend are completly and utterly maddening. Wrong, were they? How do you know?"

"Well, I know. I know, don't I, Eolindenne? I know."

She rolled her eyes, but she was truly smiling now. "Maybe you do, at that. Maybe. And you suggest?"

"Oh, let them look. No harm comes of it. I don't think you need to send Tannor off, either, by the way. A good useful lad like that?"

"It's all about the horses with you, isn't it?"

"Oh, only to the extent that it's about that boy from Neniant for you." He studied her face carefully, looking for her plans.

[Susan Delgado]

Eolinda sighed. She saw Remdil's point, she really did, but at the same time... "Remdil, the difference here is that during our courtship, you were not trying to live in my parents' house. That's what I object to, not his very presence. Although I wonder at what sort of providence he would have for her."

"He'd work in the Inn of course." He obviously considered himself the voice of reason.

She considered this. As a policy, the Inn provided lodgings for all regular employees should they need it. This meant that Carthon would have a home and employment without actually living in the family apartment. Knowing this made his courtship of her daughter a good deal more palatable. She glanced back at Carathon. He seemed unhappy. SHe could guess the cause; probably he'd asked Remdil for a home and seen her riding off as a flat denial. Well, maybe she could do something about that. She turned her horse back, leaving Remdil to his musings, and confronted her would-be marriage-son.

He was relieved to find out that he could stay in the Inn and work, and although she didn't mention it, he seemed hopeful for hi future with Livia as well. The boy, though...She offered to have him ride behind her for a while. She wanted to find out what he wanted, what his plans were.

It seemed he and Carathon had been talking and had decided they should stick together: two orphans, loose in the wide world, they could lean on each other for support. She sighed. Two sons! Well, if he was going to be living in her house, they could hardly keep calling him "boy". She would call him...Brando. Yes, that would do.
He looked like he wasn't quite sure how to feel about his new name, but when she'd asked what his old name had been and he hadn't remembered, well, she had no choice but to give him one.
At his hesitant request to be put back on Carathon's horse, she happily agreed. He'd have to stop calling her "ma'am" though, that wouldn't do at all!

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Belin]

"So the smith went..." Livia broke off suddenly and pointed northward, waiting for Hithduiniel to provide her with the word. "Yes. North." She flung a strand of dark red hair over her shoulder, relishing her tale and stumbling through her words. "Not yet to Garolin, yet close. His... helper-learner?... was lost in the war. But he couldn't live alone--he was very quiet, yet he wanted to choose it--therefore he searched another one, sons of men or no. And Tannor--his village had not burned, only later-- Hithduiniel, why don't you ride a horse? Aren't you tired?"

"Tired?" she sniffed. "I have been tired, from riding. Must you Atani judge everything by your own bodies? I could run like this for days and days, although it would be easier if you didn't stand on my fingers."

Livia readjusted her foot in the stirrup. "But Dineniel and Lenilos--"

"Would you call Lenilos a good rider?"

Livia glanced over at where the Green-Elf was attempting to make his peace with his beast. She leaned down and whispered, "The worst I've seen."

"You haven't seen me," retorted Hithduiniel. "I'm much more comfortable as it is. Who is this Tannor you mention?"

"He taught me your speaking. I met him at the-- where I live. He knows all about Elves"--Hithduiniel rolled her eyes--"and all about horses and dogs. He has a wonderful water-voice, like you do, and he's very handsome"--she suddenly blushed, remembering the lesson in which she'd learned that-- "nearly as handsome as your brother."

Hithduiniel stared incredulously, nearly stopping the horse. "My brother, handsome? Mine? Is that a nice way of saying he's nearly as ugly as a troll?"

"What's this about trolls?" called Lenilos from behind Dineniel.

"Who's that?" interjected Eolinda sharply, pointing ahead.

"It's one of your stupid villagers," announced Dineniel. "It's the one with the well."

"Gondeithel?" cried Remdil, exchanging a look with his wife. She seemed as alarmed as he. If Gondeithel were leaving town... Without a word, they broke suddenly into a gallop, leaving the others, bewildered, to catch up.

The Elf was not mistaken. Gondeithel looked as distracted as ever. His eyes searched northward, southward, eastward, and even after lighting on them briefly, did not rest. The stern lines of his perpetually worried face were so standard for him that his expression was completely unreadable. Remdil swallowed. Gondeithel would not leave the town, he was sure of it, not unless all was better than he could hope, or unless there was no longer hope of anything becoming better. "Gondeithel!" he called, and suddenly the bright, searching eyes were focused on him again. He was drawing near to them. "Looking for trouble, are you?"

"Nonsense!" snapped the man, without greeting or preamble. "That's you. I'm only looking for you."

"You're reasonably safe, then. I generally only find half of what I'm looking for, and the sweeter half at that." Remdil, with a grin, gestured toward Livia. The old soldier nodded at her, a small smile flashing across his face like a butterfly's shadow.

"Who else have you brought?" he said, eyeing the group with some suspicion.

"Well, the girl's very charming, you know; she can't go anywhere without making some friends. Where have you come from? Town burn down?" Remdil smiled jovially, hoping that this was not in fact the case.

Gondeithel glowered. "For all I know, it has. That idiot second of mine--well, the more we talk the slower we ride, if you take my meaning. It's your uncle."

"What?" broke in Eolinda. "What's he done? He always seemed so well-behaved, but you know he's an old man, I'm sure he didn't mean--"

"He's done nothing," said Gondeithel shortly. "What I mean to say is: he's died."

[Susan Delgado]

"What?"
"How?"
"Dead?"

Gondeithel shook his head wearily. "You all know he was getting older-" He ignored Remdil's interjection of, "He wasn't that old!" and continued as if the man hadn't spoken, "and there was another of those cursed bar brawls the other night and, well, you know..." He trailed off, too discouraged to continue. The others could finish the thought without his help anyway. Indeed, Remdil seemed to be in shock, but Eolinda was cursing loudly and creatively. Hearing her, Remdil woke up. He waited until she started repeating herself, then grabbed her horse's reins and started toward Garolin at a dead gallop. He was gratified to see that his sensible daughter was already a mile away. Gondeithel turned to follow and they left the Elves and Carathon to stare after them in confusion and consternation.
The Garoliners arrived to find the Inn closed, a natural state of affairs with the owner dead, and a small crowd waiting outside, apparently waiting for Gondeithel's return. They were relieved to see Remdil and Eolinda and when the wanderers had entered, they dispersed to their homes, confident the Inn would reopen in due time.

It was evident that a meeting of all employees and retainers was vital to the Inn's survival. The problem with the fighting had progressed gradually and no one realised how bad it had become. Someone suggested not serving ale anymore--that got a laugh--but no one could think of any really viable solution to the problem other than relocating to a quieter town, which of course was impossible, but therein lay the problem. No one had noticed the Inn getting rowdier because Garolin had gotten rowdier right along with it. It was a vicious cycle and nothing could be done about the town end. The Inn end, though, well, the best solution they could come up with was more and bigger bouncers (Remdil immediately thought of Gondeithel and found him willing to work in the Inn's comfort) and more watchfulness on everyone's part.
Carathon, Brando, and the Elves showed up about an hour after the meeting broke up. The Men were given permanentt rooms upstairs and the Elves seemed inclined to stay as well. It seemed they wanted to talk, or maybe just drink. It was hard to tell which, at least in Dineniel's case. Either or, Remdil and Eolinda were happy to oblige.

[ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Belin]

That night, Hithduiniel lay quietly in the darkness of the room they'd provided her, reflecting on the suprises of the day. Livia's inn was a large and well lit place in the daytime, and she could see the beauty of it, where the architecture had not been defaced by the chaotic events of many rough nights of brigandry. What had they been doing out here, these mortals? Didn't they know enough to guard themselves and their homes from such people? If she had understood the girl properly, they invited hordes of ruffians into this place, fed them, gave them beds, and cleaned up the bodies they left lying about on the floors. Such foolishness.

The stormclouds had passed, and though the wind wound around the inn like a cry of weak despair, there was a strange quietness as she had not heard in the night since the storm had come. Hithduiniel turned over onto one side, half thinking, half dreaming.

So maybe it was a dream that she heard, and not the sound of hunting horns and rushing feet. Maybe, after all, the voices of men did not close around these walls with a sound like the sound of the wind, and perhaps they were followed by no flurry of hooves. It was possible that they passed so quickly only because they were creatures of her thought, and that the silence she heard when she started back into full consciousness was the same silence that had lain on the room before.

Maybe so. But her mind was full of these sounds, and the search of her eyes that met no object was not unaccompanied by rushing and powerful images in her mind.

"Just to see your shadow," Hithduiniel whispered into the darkness, "once, and never more."

A long moment passed as she lay under the thick blanket shivering. Did she dare?

She dared. Hithduiniel rose quietly from her bed. Nothing to take with her, nothing she needed, only an idea and a long walk.

So. She walked silently past the rooms where those content to stay were sleeping, snoring away in their ridiculous mortal fashion, as if there were nothing better in the world. She made her way down the stairs, opened the door without its usual squeak, and suddenly stood breathing in the night.

She looked eastward over her shoulder, in a sort of apology to her brother, and started off.

There was a light in the stable.

It was, of course, no concern of hers. She cared nothing for either the stable or the--whoever was in there. But the sudden knowledge that she was not, after all, alone in the night jarred her. The sounds she had heard had conferred this time on her, and on her alone, and an intruder--well, at least she should know who it was.

She peered around the door. Somebody with a very small lantern was leading out a horse without any of the peculiar gear used by the Men, whispering something into the beast's ear.

Dineniel, of course. I wonder where she's going. Hithduiniel shrugged the question off. Only another wanderer like herself, then, another rogue in search of something. Hithduiniel nodded to herself, glad both of this kind of kinship between them and the obvious superiority of her own journey. She turned away, satisfied.

"Hey."

Curiosity was a curse. She'd been seen. "Yes?" she said softly, turning to face the Elf again.

"What are you prowling around here for?" asked Dineniel, in the same near-whisper the Green-Elf was using.

"I am not prowling. I am traveling. Why are you prowling?"

"I need a horse for my travels, do I not?" The roguish Elf grinned. "Is it not strange indeed that you would travel back without your brother?"

"We go to different places." At this, Dineniel raised her eyebrows, drawing out an explanation. Something in this rash girl reminded her of a slightly younger and much more careless version of herself, and this was a bit of gossip she very much wanted to hear. She watched carefully as Hithduiniel shifted her weight, considered, reconsidered, and suddenly, impetuously spoke. "I have seen the sun set. I have heard a hunter's horn. I must-- I go west."

Dineniel gaped at her. "What?" she managed finally.

Hithduiniel leaned toward her, with strangely glowing eyes. Her whisper was becoming at once louder and more conspiratorial, and Dineniel had a sudden strong desire to leave.

"We're Moriquendi, Dineniel," she said. "My people are, they say, more darkened than the others, lesser, smaller, stranger. I did not see the Trees. I did not meet the Sun. Orome who met my people is a stranger to me. The Sea? I've never seen it.

But this is no choice of mine. Lenwe led us here, and Lenwe it was who chose to linger among the green trees and lose the sight of the silver and the gold. Some of these things I have heard. And why, O woman of what I may call my kindred"--Dineniel flinched, but Hithduiniel did not notice--"why should I stay upon the whims of a foolish leader, who cannot show me what is my heritage and what the great ones meant me to see? And though the choice was his to turn aside, what choice was mine? Will they keep me here, cooped in a narrow land from tree to tree?"

"Hithduiniel--" murmured Dineniel, alarmed. The words... they echoed something, something important. Her mind groped toward it.

Hithduiniel was shaking her head, speaking excitedly in a voice that continued to rise. "There they stand in beauty, beauty that is not of Middle-Earth. Shall I sit here wondering as they call us the--"

"Shadow-folk," interjected Dineniel. She had heard this, but where?

"Certainly, and while they sit where the mountain rises steep to the sky where the stars shine even brighter, and I feel the sea, Dineniel, it comes closer every day. There it stands still and awaits me who was kept from it by the folly that abandoned hope of it. I will go! Let Lenwe keep his forest!"

"Feanor!" said Dineniel.

"What?"

"It was Feanor. Feanor spoke like that."

"Feanor?"

"Yes! He left Valinor with his sons, don't you know anything at all?"

Hithduiniel frowned. "Curufinwe?"

"Nobody calls him that, Hithduiniel." She sighed at the other's challenging eyebrows. "They call him the spirit of fire, because he was. And when he spoke like that-- do you know this story or not?"

"I know of his sons, the ones that were mad and so pursued the stones that draw madness."

"He spoke like that right before bringing on exile from Valinor and really you should be more careful. Don't speak. Act."

"Did I start this conversation, or did you?"

"That isn't the point. One rogue to another, I tell you, the rule is this: don't become involved anything you can't escape from. Do not make certain plans, do not speak your plans, do not make oaths, and do not set foot in a stronghold. Trust me. It isn't safe."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"If they let you enter Valinor--if they overlook the banishment because you're Moriquendi, and I don't think they will, do you suppose you'll be coming back? Do you think you're planning anything less than the rest of the time in the world here? And if they don't admit you--"

"But it's what I want!"

"Are you sure? Do you know what it is, and what you want? This world, you know--when you want something, you know, sometimes you get it, sometimes, but mostly you look and you're bruised and you meet people and lose them, and in the end it turns out to be nothing more than a fool's errand."


Hithduiniel was thinking. "As the Garoliners sought their daughter," she said slowly, "as the brigands sought the stone."

Dineniel's face changed suddenly. "What?"

[Susan Delgado]

The floor squeaked. He knew it wasn't a part of his dream, though his dream was strange, all water and shadows and horns blowing. Even in all that, the squeak of the floor was so ordinary, so mundane, that it brought him out of sleep. He looked around, confused. Something had changed. What? He rose from his bed and crept to the door adjoining his room and the next. Somehow he was not surprised to find the bed in that room empty. She had always been a wanderer and on some level he'd always known that he would wake one night and find her gone. He moved quietly over to her window overlooking the stable and peered out. He saw the two Elves in earnest conversation, though their voices were too soft for even his sharp ears to pick up the words. He watched the end of their cooonversation and their departure together with a pang of sadness. He had a feeling she was really gone this time, and wasn't coming back. Why had she never told him what she was thinking of? He would have understood, might even have joined her! But maybe that was something she didn't want. Maybe she wanted to be on her own. NNo, if that were the case, she would never have left with that horse-thief. Though Dineniel was a pretty thing, and decent aside from being a thief. With a sigh of bitterness and longing, he sent a wish of good fortune her way and returned to his bed.

Lenilos woke with the sun. He did not look into Hithduiniel's room but hurried downstairs, where he could smell the breakfast the Men were making. He headed off their questions about Hithduiniel and Dineniel--he really didn't want to discuss it, especially not with the shortlived Men--and settled in to eat. It was bacon and sausages and eggs, with biscuits and butter and some sweet light drink he couldn't identify. Good solid fare for Men, he supposed, though it wan't at all what he was accustomed to eating. Still, he ate it all, even the meat, so he wouldn't insult them. They'd worked so hard to help him find his sister that he wanted to leave on as good of terms as he could.

After breakfast, they all went to the stables to find a horse for him. He was not a good rider, but he was determined to improve. Remdil was furious to find that the best horse in the place was gone, however. Evidence of a certain horse-thief, obviously, and now all they could do was deal with it. The owner of that horse would be most unpleased, though. Lenilos hid a smile. Their concerns were so delightfully small! Putting a gentle hand on Remdil's shoulder, he quietly told him that it really wan't that important. Remdil sighed and nodded. He knew that, he really did.

Lenilos remounted his horse and, provided with enough supplies to last a month, turned back toward his home in Ossiriand. As he disappeared into the town's throng, Carathon gave voice to the thought that was in all their minds:
"Do you think we'll ever see them again?"

[Belin]

Remdil felt no need to see them again. He'd given them his thanks and his hospitality, and they were, after all, Elves, a strange and unsettling people. Or so he told himself whenever he found a chance to think of it, in the long years after, as he watched Eolinda grow older, wiser, and (not to his surprise, though others wouldn't have guessed it) friendlier, and as Livia teased her suitors and studied elves. But he wondered, and he hoped. It seemed like a shame for the boy to have lost his sister. He'd seen the way they laughed at each other, and he'd thought--well, they were gone, in any case, and he'd never know.

But in his mind it went like this:

The horse's journey through the mist came to an abrupt halt, and the rider, clearly a man of no great horsemanship, carefully climbed down. His face wore an expression, not of resigned sorrow, but of worry. He had not given up hope, but hope had become a torment to him. Remdil could never decide whether he'd ridden eastward as he planned, or changed his mind and gone west to seek her, but in any case he'd come to a lonely inn, whose bright windows told a story of their own in the houseless mist. Leaving his horse to the stablehand, who frowned at it as if it were familiar to him, Lenilos ducked his head and walked through the door.

There was a bright fire there, and a pure and cheerful laughter that held no trace of mockery. The serving girl (in Remdil's mind she looked like Livia, and the inn like his own in better days) winked at him impudently, and guided him toward the fire, quietly taking away his dripping cloak. They made room for him around the fire, and gave him such welcomes as were native to them there. Perhaps, indeed, he smiled.

And he looked around the circle, and he saw first the wicked grin of a horse thief he'd known not so long ago, just beginning to laugh at some joke of her own, and his heart stopped within him.

And he was right, for there next to her, watching her as carefully as an apprentice watches his master, sat an elven maiden with long black hair and an impatient smile. And he sat back and waited until the joke was finished, and she looked around the room, and she saw him, and with sudden tears she welcomed him, and when they left the inn they left together.

So thought Remdil when between polishing tables and scolding the customers he had a moment to rifle through his memories, and so the story ran when, years later, he told it to his grandchildren.

THE END

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]