An Audience With The King RPG [Archive] - Page 2 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Amanaduial the archer

10-16-2002, 12:26 PM

"Rivendell. Down this valley here." Hardo said, almost non commitally.
Brando squirmed on his pony, his mouth dry with anticipation. Soon he was to meet the beautiful graceful beings that Uncle Pip had been so in awe of, immortal and wise...

The others around the little hobbit gasped in wonder, as they could see over the ridge before him. Sitting high in his saddle, he soon saw also what they had seen. His eyes widened and he gasped at the beautiful, delicate architecture, fine and perfect. Further down there were elves reading, walking, or practising fencing together. A group looked up and pointed and soon some were walking towards the group. They seemed somewhat surprised- to put it mildly- to see the dwarves, but were courtious as the bowed slightly. The small group was headed a regal, older looking elf, and behind him were two younger male elves and two females.

"Greeting...friends." The older elf said, his voice almost musical, although he paused slightly, looking at the dwarves slightly doubtfully. "I am Lord Elrond. Welcome to Rivendells valley. No doubt you are tired from your journey, but we have plans to make and aynhow, we must leave tomorrow at latest; after all, it wouldnt do to keep the king waiting. These are the elves who will be travelling with you- Meneciriel, Elrohir, Elladan and Thule."

The elves nodded respectfully, although they too seemed slightly troubled by the dwarves. Therons lot too didnt seem entirely happy about the arrangement- Brando noted with slight amusement that Mikhelm was wearing his polite face, so polite it seemed to be practically cracking...like the atmosphere, which was just about reaching breaking point. Like Hardo had said, this was certainly going to be an 'interesting' trip.

As the group was escorted down to the delicately architectured main building, Branod continued to look around in amazement. One of the elves, the one introduced as Meneciriel caught his gaze. The sunlight shone behind her and droplets from the waterfall nearby occasionally flew into the air nearby as she smiled kindly at him- he stared for a moment- One of the elves had noticed him...and smiled!He caught himself, the heat flooding to his face and smiled shyly back at her. Using the formal tone his family liked him to adopy while addressing visitors, he nodded respectfully.
"Good day Meneciriel. I hope you are well, and am glad I will travelling with you." He said stiffly, concentrating very hard on an upper class accent, the words sounding as if he was reading them.

Ciri laughed, delighted at the quaint hobbit. "Thankyou, Brando. Please, call me Ciri."

Brando flushed with pleasure and smiled bashfully.

Cuthalion

10-16-2002, 12:31 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mountain^^^^^^

Durin's beard! If this is what traveling with Elves is like... Durgan grumbled to himself as he recovered his dignity. He had leapt up from his slumber fully awake, with mace in hand. Upon finding it was only the Elves, he had thrown the weapon down in disgust. He looked at Stonehelm, who to his surprise was actually taking part in this folly. He bristled, scrubbing his face with his hands. This was going to be a long trip.

Shadow_Staar

10-16-2002, 01:25 PM

//:\\Blue Mountains//:\\
Theron sat with Serin and Mikhelm outside.
"My king, why do we have to travel with this lowly kind? All they want is our good, and gold! We do not need them!" Mikhelm angerly argued.
"Calm down Mikhelm! The elves are not that bad!" Serin argued back.
Mikhelm looked down right angry when he heard those words come from Serin's mouth. "Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD? Theron did you hear that?!"
"Yes, Mikhelm I did, and he is right, the elves are not evil, and we don't need to worry about them."
"I can't believe this! The evles are BAD..." As Mikhelm continued to argue to Serin and Theron, or so he thought, the other two drawves left him alone, and walked back to meet with the hobbits.

*Varda*

10-16-2002, 01:47 PM

****Blue Mountains***

Serin sighed grumpily, as he and Theron walked back over to the hobbits. Why had Theron decided to bring Mikhelm, of all dwarves, on this journey? He was hardly going to make a good impression in Minas Anor. Serin voiced his opinion to Theron.

“Serin, I know Mikhelm appears grumpy, and has no love for elves. Do you not think this journey may help him? Besides that, we must represent our kind in the Blue Mountains. There are many dwarves who feel like Mikhelm on this issue. To fairly represent us, we were obliged to bring him along.” Theron responded calmly.

Serin was forced to acknowledge that this did make sense to some extent, as they met with the hobbits. The hobbits were having their second breakfast under a delicately carved archway, and were chattering away about the wonder that was Rivendell.

The hobbits greeted the dwarves warmly. From being shy and cautious at Bree, the had come to see the dwarves as companions and friends.

After the hobbits had eaten, they were all called in to see Elladan, Elrohir, Ciri, and Thule.

“Welcome,” Ciri smiled as they entered the room. “We asked you to come here so we could further decide our route to Minas Anor. We are of two minds, to take the Gap of Rohan, or journey through Lothlorien on the way.”

Serin was delighted at the opportunity to talk further with the elves, and was soon deep in conversation with Elladan, while Elrohir and Theron discussed the best route for the journey.

Nevtalathiel

10-16-2002, 02:00 PM

*****DALE - Girion*****
"Wake up!" Girion called grinning, despite the grumbles of the dwarves.

He didn't allow his sudden joy to be crushed by the gruff words of the dwarves. He felt free now from the stiffling forest, even though they had not yet emerged from under it's boughs. There was a beauty about it, it was true, but it was a stagnant, almost suffocating beauty and Girion's admiration for the forest was tainted by his fear of it. He could not help but remember the supernatural chill of the nights and a spasm shuddered through his leg.

Child of the 7th Age

10-16-2002, 03:01 PM

*****Harad/Umbar*****
It was the morning of their fourth day of sailing. In two and a half days, they hoped to be in Minas Anor. But this would hold true only if all went well. The biggest obstacle in their path was the ship sailing just ahead of them on the Anduin. It lay on the starboard side.

Their own course had taken them about seventy miles north up the river. There was another 120 miles to go until they reached Pelargir. Now, they must decide where and when to challenge the vessel.

Herumir and Fuinur sat at the captain's table with Urken. It was the first time they'd come aboard without an elaborate retinue protecting them. Urken hoped it was an indication there was a little more trust between them.

But now their attention was rivetted on the issue at hand. They had a decision to make. They could incease the speed of the ship and run an encounter with the vessel just a short ways up the river. But was that the best idea? Urken had doubts.

For one thing, they'd be attacking during daylight hours. That meant no protective cover of darkness. They would lose any element of surprise which was an important advantage.

The other alternative was to let the pirate rig sail on undisturbed, and to slow down their own vessels so as to avoid raising any suspicions. Then, they'd wait till nightfall when it was easier to attack.

Urken studied the map intently. By nightfall the ship would be just south of Pelargir, the main port city of Gondor. The priest thought the pirates would probably attempt another raid tonight. They'd certainly not be fool enough to attack the central harbor. Too many armed men would be there. No, this was not a mission of glory or even military conquest, just a quick raid on a relatively defenseless spot along the river.

Urken finally concluded that the pirate's main target had to be one of the communities south of Pelargir. This certainly made military sense. The distance and the sailing speed were also right.

And then it hit Urken! What a fool he'd been. What a chance to win favor for the delegation from Harad. How good they'd look if they carefully came sailing up the river at the last instant to stop the raid of the pirates right on the doorstep of Pelagir. The city would welcome them. The news of their exploits might even reach the king. Good for trade, and more importantly for Urken, good for getting a private audience with the king.

Instead of being the enemy of Gondor, they would temporarily turn into its rescuer. The scene had definite possibilities.

Quickly he outlined the plan to the two kings. For once, they were in full agreement. They would wait till the nightime to attack. Meanwhile, Urken had something else hidden up his sleeve, and he'd work on that as well.

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Elenna

10-16-2002, 03:11 PM

Ciri took a deep breath and smiled pleasantly at the hobbits and dwarves. "Surely you are hungry and thirsty after your long journey." She gestured to the side and a young elf-maiden rushed up. "If you wish anything to refresh you, please, speak!"

The hobbits and dwarves were all a little in awe of the elves, and did not speak. "A light lunch it is!" laughed Ciri, and the younger maiden rushed off.

"Now, friends, we should probably look over our route." The elf-woman gestured to the map lying on a nearby table.

Celebmornie

10-16-2002, 03:14 PM

***Rivendell***
Thule found a book titled Races of middle earth!She laughed. "This shuld be interesting!" She curles up in her chair and starts to read. By the time she is done it is almost morning. "Better at least try to sleep." She mutters to herself. She puts her book back and starts walking to her room. She stops to look at a picture and realizes that she left her dagger on the table. She went back and got it. When she got to her room she was dead tired and fell asleep instantly.

*Varda*

10-16-2002, 04:22 PM

***Blue Mountains/Shire/Rivendell***

Theron and Elrohir pondered over which route to take.

“If we took the route through Lorien, Master Dwarf, we could rest awhile and refresh the travellers” Elrohir argued.

“But we might tarry too long” Theron argued. “And I cannot deny that there is one in my group that would not be best pleased at the thought of stopping in Lorien. Particularly after Gimli son of Gloin never returned to the North, but remained with the Elves and Men. I would argue that we go by the Gap of Rohan.”

“We would need to take greater supplies, in that case.” Ciri commented. “If we went by Lothlorien, we could get more supplies.”

Elladan asked the hobbits which way seemed better suited to them. The unanimous answer was to travel through Lorien, and Serin seemed to be enthusiastic about this idea. Mikhelm had left the room and gone to bed by this point, and Theron reluctantly agreed to the plan. He would have to speak to Mikhelm the next morning, and show him that it was the best plan. Mikhelm would also have to learn to accept the Elves, if they were to journey with them to Minas Anor.

"Very well," said Elrohir. "We must leave soon if we wish to make good time. We shall leave the at dawn the day after tomorrow, to allow ourselves time to prepare our supplies. Goodnight!"

The group departed to their beds, Theron with the prospect of talking to Mikhelm tomorrow. He was not best pleased with the way things had turned out that evening.

[ October 16, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

VanimaEdhel

10-16-2002, 04:27 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

Lovek saw Kasteni turn, with a questioning look in his eye.

"I apologize," Lovek said, just loudly enough so that he knew that they would here them, "I was merely startled. Why did we stop?"

"I heard a strange noise," one of the guards replied to Lovek, quietly.

"Well," Lovek said, sounding annoyed, "Next time you decide to stop because you hear a noise, warn the rest of us."

"I-I told..." the guard began, trailing off.

"He did tell me," Kasteni said shortly, "And it would please me, Lovek, if you would be a little more accepting of the other men here. You are not the only one on this mission, and, most likely, not the only one who does not approve of the council in the West."

"Yes, Advisor," Lovek said shortly. He took a deep breath, then turned to the guard and said, forcing himself to speak in a civil voice, "What was it, praytell, that you heard?"

"I do not know," the guard said, swallowing a bit hard.

"I do not know what the Advisor thinks that we should do, but I suggest that we be cautious, just in case," Lovek said.

"I agree," Kasteni said, "We do not need casualties."

Lovek looked down, then looked on the horizon.

"Look!" Lovek exclaimed, surprised that even he was startled at what he saw.

There was a fairly large group coming towards them. Who the soldiers in the group were, Lovek could not see. All he could see was that they were coming towards the group of men quickly. Lovek turned Rastani to face the oncoming group and the other men did so as well. Lovek drew his sword and squinted, trying to see the men.

"Let us wait for them to come," Lovek suggested, "We can then see whether they mean us harm or not, for we could not outrun them. They are moving far too quickly."

The company stood, facing the soldiers as they advanced...

Isilya

10-16-2002, 06:04 PM

******MIRKWOOD CONTINGENT*******

"What's this? I wonder . . . Thoron, come here."
Two men stood in a clearing, leaning over a mass of cloth.
"I wonder what it could be? Turn it over."
Thoron obeyed his master's command, and though he was surprised by what saw, he felt that, in a way, he knew what was coming.
"Sire, it's a body . . . an elf maiden's body. She seems to be alive, but unconcious. Should we bring her along, or would she be a burden?"
"Yes, I think that would be best to bring her. We can help her recover, if she is able to. There is rumor of a large gathering of Middle-Earth in Minas Anor. I'd say that she's one of the travelling parties, but which one, I cannot say."
"If she is, sire, then the rest of the party will surely be glad to see her alive."

Though Isilya's body was still, her mind was alive, thoughts ran through her mind. She was trying to piece together what had happened in the last day, had it been a day?, but the only thing she was sure of was a distant melody. It sounded so familiar, like home, yet it was so faint. The music was becoming softer and softer, and light began to creep it's way into her eyes. She looked around, she had not seen this terrain before, and she did not recognize the man in the horse in front of her, and there was something uncomfortable about whatever was surrounding her.
"Ah, you're awake at last!" A voice came from behind her. She attempted to turn her head, but the muscles were stiff, and she could only look forward.
"Sire, we should stop. The maiden has come around." The man in front turned his horse and headed towards Isilya.
"My lady, how good of you to awaken. Thoron, get out the food."
The man in front of her had now dismounted and was lending his arm to her as she descended, rather clumsily, from the horse. He led her to a small clearing in the woods, and she sat as Thoron prepared a small meal. He leaned forward to hand her the food, the music came back, and all was dark again.

piosenniel

10-16-2002, 06:59 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl and Gramil let their tired mounts graze freely while they ate some dried fruit and shared the last skin of water. When they had done, they drove the oliphaunts toward the River Harnen and let them cool themselves off. Gramil walked upstream and refilled their skins with fresh water.

Jarl looked up, at the position of the sun. It had been about two hours since Garlin and Ethar had gone on ahead to investigate the birds. He sighed, and rubbed his tail bone. 'I'm getting too old for travel by oliphaunt.' he muttered to himself.

Gramil heard him and laughed out loud. 'Careful, Jarl! You'll be wanting to retire soon!'

Jarl gave him a considering look. 'Not a bad idea, actually, my friend. You know, we have two able bodied, and young, assistants. I have been thinking - with our pooled contacts and store of knowledge between us, we should consider forming a trading company of our own. We could have quite a formidable north/south consortium were we to do this. Our Kings would be happy - their coffers would increase greatly from income from the increased trade. And once we got the framework for it up and running smoothly, we would be free to pursue other interests at our leisure.'

Gramil looked at the Daleman appraisingly. 'That is something to consider.' he said. He grinned then and clapped Jarl on the back. 'Of course, as heads of the company there would be no call for us to be traipsing about on oliphaunts, would there?'

Jarl chuckled, brushing the dust of the trip from his shirt. 'No, my friend. We would be obliged to travel in style and comfort. Oliphaunts would be strictly for the assistants!' He looked northward. 'Speaking of them, perhaps we should mount up and see if we can find them.'

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

Five further days of travel brought them to the vale where the River Poros flowed through on its way down from the Shadow Mountains. The two younger men had continued their way north and were always about a day ahead of Gramil and Jarl. The two older men easily followed the trail of the other two oliphaunts, and at their camps which they came to, there was always a stick or rock to the north of the cooking fire site marked with the runes for 'E' and 'G', and the rune indicating 'North'.

It was at the last camp, near the Poros, where the rock message was marked with the rune for 'East', that Jarl noted Gramil had begun to look worried. 'They have turned toward Nurn.' he said. 'They should have waited for me. They do not know the customs of that new country, and the penalties for infractions can be rather harsh.'

'Harsh?' asked Jarl, now becoming increasingly concerned. Gramil pushed his beast onward. 'That was the nice word for it.' he called over his shoulder. 'In other regions they might be called "fatal".'

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-16-2002, 08:10 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - in Nurn ***

They waited in the brush, resting until a thin sliver of moon rose in the east behind them, revealing their path. It cast the mountain pass into faint shadows, just light enough to see. Though hopefully not enough to be seen. Somewhere close there had to be a guardhouse, as this was the only way over the southwest Ephel Duath. Al-Gareth and his armsman adjusted the straps on their packs and with a glance at eachother, stepped onto the path.

As they moved along the curve of the rutted trail, the sound of water grew. It was not the Poros river but a tributary, somewhere in the ravine on their left hand, hidden by silvered leaves below. They moved in silence, Al-Gareth's liegeman several paces ahead, scouting for guards. He held up his hand suddenly and Al-Gareth froze. He slunk back to Al-Gareth. There was no need to question what he had found. Clearly there was no way around the guardhouse. They hadn't expected there would be, only hoped. After a pause for decision, Al-Gareth nodded to the ravine below, and together they clambered down slippery rock, chancing the noise of their passage would be covered by the water. It was too dark to see their footing well, but they had little choice at this time. Wet leaves whipped their faces, hearts in their throats at every rustling branch, they slid, clinging to mossy rocks. The sound of the rushing stream filled their ears, hiding all sound of pursuit, but also hopefully hiding their own. Al-Gareth bit back a curse as both his boots stepped into water. They had found the bottom of the ravine.

The light was better here, there was a slight break in the canopy, and the river made a natural trail. Branches caught on their packs, but otherwise they moved swifty, if cautiously. They had no thought but to clear this part of their escape as quickly as possible. Fortunate it was late in the year, and the river was low, leaving a rocky bank to either side. Although it kept them closer to the guards above, they dared not cross the stream but kept it to their left. They could not risk being trapped between the stream and the great Poros river that ran from the sea of Nurn to the Crossings of Poros, where it met the great Harad road and formed the border of South Ithilien.

It was the wind that first let them know they were approaching the Poros. The stream began to widen, and the tree canopy suddenly gave way. The moon hovered in the western sky, near setting. They had little travel time left, but this, the most dangerous part of their escape had gone well. They turned west to rejoin the trail.

The armsman glanced back and his sudden hiss of breath made Al-Gareth turn in alarm. Less than a quarter mile behind them, between the stream and the Poros, a yellow light flashed high up in the trees. Across from where they'd left the treeline. A signal. With any luck it nothing to do with them, but Al-Gareth didn't trust his luck. They could not see an answering signal from their vantage. With the water to carry sound they didn't risk a whisper, but dove under tree cover, hoofing it to the rocks. Al-Gareth cringed. Their tracks... they should have walked in the stream, but it was too late now. Thank the gods it's too dark for arrows, he thought. He forced himself to keep to a loping walk, blood pounding.

An hour later there was still no sign of pursuit. They'd been moving since before dawn, but pushed on till the pitch dark of moon-set, which forced them to stop. Better to hide than risk a broken ankle. They took a cue from their enemies and climbed two fir trees, throwing a lash about the bole keep from falling in their sleep. It was well they were off the ground. Not two hours into a fitful doze, Al-Gareth woke to torchlight and voices.

" 'E found a friend, then. I tell you, they be no peasants. Swords they had!"

"You're dreamin'. Let's go home. More like you saw hunters, no more, no less."

"Yeah, you fell asleep up there."

"I never sleep!"

"There's y'problem." Laughter. Al-Gareth could see at least six men, maybe more, walking below.

Another voice spoke. "Hells, even if is him, he's hightailing it out, as far as may be and good riddance. Let the brigands have him." A deeper voice answered.

"Not 'him.' Them. If there's more than one, we have an uprising on our hands. You want that again? You want to hang like fruit on a tree? We find them. Tonight."

"Yeah. If he wants to be king, we'll crown him, for sure."

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Kettle of fish

10-16-2002, 08:58 PM

***** Dale-Rubin *****

Rubin stared at Girion doing his mad dance with the pots and pans, and shook his head in disbelief. However unorthodox his methods of establishing relations, they did seem to be working. At least one dwarf had joined in the scrabble or arms and legs.

Girion's head was just appearing from a headlock with Orodan. In perfect range of a well lobbed bread loaf.

Bêthberry

10-16-2002, 09:18 PM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain^ ^ ^ ^

Stonehelm listened somberly to the elf's suggestion. He recognized Orodon's wish to continue the alliance which Thorin and Thranduil had undertaken in years past. Combining the vast resources of their two countries would be mutually beneficial. Still, he found it hard to think of coming back into the forest, at least on a regular basis.

Grooming the forest, you say. Ring our axes on the felled wood. It is not a bad proposition; I can see the benefit of clear foresting areas without wholesale slaughter of the trees. But Orodon, what would compel we dwarves to enter into the Forest again? Would you rid it of the spiders first? Can you promise us fresh air, free of the fetid taste of mulch and fern and decay?

Stonehelm saw Orodon's face fall. Well, come now, let's think on it some more. Bring Frain into our discussion. He would want some means to recover the losses of his goods we were forced to leave behind. The plan could well be of interest to him. Hringa, where is Frain? Do you think he would be willing to enter the forest again, or engage in commerce with the elves who would for us? Durgan, would you be willing to enter the forest again, regularly?

Stonehelm turned to his dwarves for their opinion. But he also looked upon the river and saw new challenges.

Where are these traders who are the friends of Dale? What manner of ship will we be needing? Durgan, seek out for us Girion's acquaintance and see what our accommodation will be like.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-17-2002, 12:31 AM

**** Harad/Umbar - Gramil ****

Gramil scattered the stones marking Ethar and Garlin's direction east, a precaution he hadn't bothered with elsewhere. His thoughts centered on his last visit to Nurn, and at last shook the dark vision out of his head. That was during the war. There were no orcs in Nurn now, he thought. Surely conditions were better. But since his last expedition and retirement there had been no word. That alone gave him pause.

"Fatal?" Jarl asked softly, his face serious. "Perhaps you should tell me what you know."

"Let's not borrow trouble," Gramil flashed his quick smile. "It might be nothing."

For a moment Jarl thought Gramil wasn't going to answer, but as they mounted their oliphaunts and lumbered east, Gramil began a sing-song chant. Jarl realized after a moment that it was a story, the history of Nurn. It told of the fall of Sauron in the second age, and of prospectors from Rhun daring that accursed land in their search for Sauron's gold. Mines were built and abandoned. A shadow lay on the land, and gold was left open in the sluice. But the settlers in the rich vales of the Sea of Nurn persisted, locking their doors at night and warding off the curse of that land with what simple charms they knew. And they prospered, though no council or kingdom lasted for long where the Dark Lord once held sway.

[ October 19, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Rose Cotton

10-17-2002, 05:11 AM

^^^^^^Lonely Moutain^^^^^^^

Hringa tapped the king on the shoulder and spoke softly to him. "Er...I know it sounds strange but I wouldn't mind coming back here Sir. I think I'd like to visit the elves. I could come on your behalf. As long as it could help you of course. The servant blushed to be making such a suggestion. Though he really did wish to return to the forest. It wasn't the trees that intrigued him but the prospect of seeing more of the elves.

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: Rose Cotton ]

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: Rose Cotton ]

Alkanoonion

10-17-2002, 07:08 AM

**** Harad/Umbar ****
It was just starting to get dark; the two ships had withdrawn further back so that they would not unduly attract the attention of the Corsair ship. Now that it was dark the two kings decided that now was time to move.

The plan was for one ship to attack the Pirate Ship under the cover of dark while sending the other ship further north to cut off the pirate’s chance of escape. To give Urken’s ship time to get ahead of the Corsair ship Fuinur would hold off his attack until midnight, then when the Pirates were less active. Then was the time for Fuinur to strike.

Fuinur was about to signal Urken’s ship that all was ready when he noticed that Urken was releasing a messenger pigeon from the boat. Very suspicious thought Fuinur, He was only just starting to trust the Priest and now this.
Fuinur was not happy “What’s his idea?” Fuinur only hoped that the priest was not playing both sides.
The timing of the attack was critical. Fuinur had not the time to investigate the matter further. He vowed to himself that when he next meet with Seth, his servant would get some harsh words, followed with a sound thrashing. He was supposed to spy and report to Funiur on the priest’s activities.

With no time to spare Fuinur gave the signal for the other ship to slowly head north to cut off the Pirates chance of escape.

While Fuinur waited for midnight he decided to go down deck and give Zohra, his pet Oluphaunt some peanuts. Zohra was pleased to see Fuinur. Or so he hoped she was pleased to see him…. and not the peanuts. Zohra loved Peanuts.
It was nice having Zohra around. Fuinur only wished that they were out on the flats enjoying a nice ride on the coffee plantation instead on inside a smelly hold.

With Zohra tended to Fuinur went back on the deck to supervise the preparations for the attack. All around the ship the solders were busy sharpening swords, stringing bows and filling buckets with water. The water was a precaution against flaming missiles. The other ship might have a catapult. Seeing the activity Fuinur walked over to Herumir who was supervising the preparations.

“Fuinur, you dog were have you been? I have had to do all the work myself”
“Just checking on Zohra” replied Fuinur
“Ha ha” laughed Herumir “ I bet if that Oluphaunt was a woman you would marry her!”
“compared to some of the women you have bedded?” was Fuinur’s replied.
Herumir’s laughed along with Fuinur, although he did not quite get the joke. All his women were fine specimens, if on the ruff side. Herumir was not a picky guy.
“If you have finished discussing my marital status I have an important question.
Were is the captain?”
“He is on the look out. Do you want me to send a man after him?”
“yes I need to ask him something”
Herumir turned away. He motioned to a soldier sitting nearby to get the captain.

Running down the deck came a short and stocky man. He looked like he had eaten a whole Olupaunt for dinner. He was puffing profusely as he came up to the kings.
“ My lord Dragon. You sent for me?” he asked Fuinur .
Giving the captain a look of contempt Fuinur replied “Yes. Has this ship any catapults for repelling the pirates?”
“Yes my king. We have two below deck”.
“Good. I want them set up and loaded for the attack. Keep them hidden and do not fire them until I tell you. They are our insurance against any surprises” replied Fuinur.

Later with all the preparations complete Herumir signalled for silence and for all lamps and touched to be dowsed. Running silent and in total dark the ship slowly approached the pirate ship.

The men held their breaths in case the sounds alerted the pirates.
No activity could be seen or heard coming from the Corsair ship. It was as if the ship was deserted.

With each minute the two ships got closer until only two-ship lengths lay between them. All of a sudden all hell broke loose.

A barrage of arrows and flaming oil barrels came flying passed, just missing Fuinur’s head. It smashed into the fat captain, setting him on fire. The force of the barrel was enough to send the captain flying into the dark water to never be seen again. If the unfortunate wretch had less fat on his frame, then he would not have made such a tempting target.
Meanwhile the pirates had started to fire a barrage of arrows around the deck of the Ship, one striking Fuinur in the thigh. He ignored the pain and rallied his men to repel the pirates.

As the Corsair ship got closer, Fuinur order that the catapults lode be set alight, ready for firing. Struggling not to slip on his own blood, which was pooling all over the deck, he gave the order to fire. The ignited pitch, which covered the catapults lode, streamed through the air like a comet. It was beautiful to behold.

Its deadly passage seemed almost surreal to Fuinur, especially as its projectory sent it strait into his own mast.

“oh expletive” said Fuinur “why me”
“get that fire out or we will loss the ship” screamed a light-headed Fuinur.
The fire was quickly put out but not before the fire had spread to the other catapult and completely gutted the machine.

Cuthalion

10-17-2002, 09:56 AM

Durgan looked steadily at Stonehelm and replied gruffly,As you will . While it was true that he had been fascinated by these new surroundings, he too viewed the river not with anticipation, but with dread. Logistics at this point were quickly becoming nightmarish. All his instincts told him this route was a dangerous one, yet he was bound to follow Stonehelm's orders.

He strode away in search of the person in charge of the boats.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

Ringwraith Number Two

10-17-2002, 11:41 AM

******The Shire/Blue Mountains/Rivendell******

The quiet snores of Odo and Hardo filled the room. Orlo turned, unable to sleep. He was absolutely sure they had forgotten something- ah! Rope! He got up at once and trotted to the door, meaning to ask Serin if he had packed any.

He padded outside and saw the stars twinkling above him. "Now..where's Serin's room....?" he said to himself. He spotted a familiar passage and walked down it- Serin's room appeared. He knocked quietly- it seemed completely inappropriate in Rivendell to make a noise.

The door opened. Serin was fully dressed, and looked slightly worried.

"Greetings, friend." Orlo stepped inside the room, and caught Serin's expression, which he answered with a questioning look. Serin said something indistinct but seemed to involve the word 'Mikhelm'.

Orlo patted his shoulder sympathetically. " Want to go for a walk? It seems as if you weren't meaning to sleep anyway-" He looked at Serin's travelling outfit. Serin nodded and followed him outside. "Packed any rope?" Orlo asked hopefully, as they rounded the corner and saw the Hall in which the famous Bilbo and Frodo Baggins had listened to the Elven music in, years ago. Serin nodded. The Hall was lit, and Orlo could barely make out a shadowy figure, which appeared to be an Elf. Squinting, he stepped forward and the figure came clearly into recognition.

Guildo

10-17-2002, 11:50 AM

<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>>

Orodan

Orodan smiled and bowed at Hringa's coment about wanting to come back to the forest, but quickly turned back to Stonehelm to reply.

"Forgive me master Stonehelm, but ridding the forest of its evils will be a task for the both of us.
Together we will return the beuty to this vast forest, and you will establish a friendship with the Forest, that no one, not even an elf can give, but only Eryn Lasgalen itself, for the forest chooses its own friends."

"Glorious will the day be when the Dwarves, Elves, Men, and the Gifts of Yavaana will all be in marvel of each other, and protect each other as brothers and sisters."

"As i suspect you will also build mansions that will amaze even the most Biased and Naive of Elves and Men. And the Dale men will build Ships that Dwarves can humbly sleep upon, and be admired by Cirdan himself."

"perhaps it is stars in the night for now, but it is a prospect that even a sad old elf as i still dream about."

Nevtalathiel

10-17-2002, 12:55 PM

*****DALE - Girion*****

Girion sighed as he spotted an indignant looking dwarf approaching him, it appeared his fun for the day was over. Carefully he placed the pan he was holding on the ground. No doubt he was about to be berated about the wake up call. Fearing he had blundered and let his father down, he bowed to the dwarf.

"King Stonehelm wishes to know how long it will take to aquire boats, and who we will be aquiring them from." The dwarf said gruffly, and Girion repeated his sigh, he suddenly wished he had studied a lot more of the history of his country and its outposts when the lessons had been on offer.

"There is a small colony of Dale men who live a little up-river from here. Originally, it was merely a small military base; an outpost to help us guard our borders and warn of possible dangers to our lands. During the War of the Ring, the stronghold was overrun by orcs, and though we believe they held out for several weeks, but as far as we can tell, all the men were lost and the camp was razed to the ground.

"As soon as the threat was defeated and the world became safe again, my father's thoughts turned once again to the outposts guarding his kingdom, the majority of which had thankfully remained untouched by the forces of Sauron. He decided to rebuild this outpost, though others were abandonned. Most have become trading posts, despite the fact that there has been little time for trade to be built up since. This one is the same; a small garrison of soldiers have be posted here to help rebuild it, and there have been certain priveledges extended to those willing to populate the next towns.

"The people should be friendly, if a little removed from the rest of my people and procuring a boat should not be too hard."

Aylwen Dreamsong

10-17-2002, 02:57 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mt^^^^^^

Orodan's offer worried Frain. What to do? So much seemed to lie on his shoulders now. He had come to like the elves, or to a point at least enjoy their presence. He didn't like having to constantly look upwards to see their faces, for that meant another sight of the trees.

Would he be able to look up into those trees so often? They took his breath away, and not in a good sense. They were so much bigger than he, which made him nervous.

So? Will you let the trees get the better of you? Frain asked himself.

No. Frain decided that recovering his goods was more important. Much would come from such an alliance. Much, much more bussiness and consumers, and clients. Trees matter not in this decision.

Frain was thinking like a bussinessman. Though he was stuck in the body of an engineer.

I accept. I would be happy to work further and more often with the Elves. Such a friendship shall never be broken again. announced Frain to the group.

This would be good.

Isilya

10-17-2002, 03:30 PM

******MIRKWOOD CONTINGENT******

Isilya drifted in and out of conciousness for the next few days. The periods whn she was active were increasing, but there was a desire to hear the melody again, and when it began, she did not fight it.

She had learned that she was now travelling with Lord Lanothir and his servant, Thoron. They had business in the East, and were now returning to Minas Anor. They had found Isilya in a clearing, and from what she had told them while she was awake, they had found that what they had earlier suspected about her was true. They agreed to lead her to Minas Anor, and possibly back to her travelling group, and though Isilya insisted on walking, Lord Lanothir remained adamant, and for the next few days, she rode with Thoron.

After a week of travelling, Thoron pointed out something intriging. They had found the remains of a recent camp. Ashes from a fire and other signs led them to believe that they were getting close to Isilya's party. Lanothir estimated that they should find the group within the next few days. Isilya's heart lifted.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-17-2002, 05:24 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - Ethar ****

It was still morning when Garlin and Ethar jumped to the ground, disturbing crows and other carrion birds at their feast in a noisy flurry of wings. The wind was still, the sun bright, in almost disrespectful contrast to the scene before them. There were not many birds for so many dead. At least not yet.

The two young men poked through the bodies, trying to understand what had happened. The wounds were fresh, which explained why the oliphaunts, so sensitive to strong scents, had been calm as they had crested the hill and found.. this.

Garlin was the first to speak.

"The armor.. see how these are armored alike?" he gestured to men wearing badges in Rhunian letters, a black 'E.' "The rest, they're a mish-mash. I think these swords are Harad trash, worse than most - sorry. Harad's not known for swords. No, here, this one's from Gondor. Nice stuff that. Rhun bows. Their armor doesn't fit either. Brigands no doubt. But do you know whose army is this? Or was, I mean?"

Ethar shook his head. He didn't recognize the black badge, and wished they had waited for Gramil. He would know.

"Who won do you think?" Garlin wondered aloud.

But Ethar had circled the north side of the battle, thinking. Suddenly, he gestured for Garlin, who quickly trotted over. The trail was obvious, something or someone was being dragged, and blood marked the leaves. It lead north.

"Soldiers would stop to bury their dead. Brigands.." Ethar noted, answering Garlin's question belatedly.

Garlin returned to the oliphaunts and clambered up, motioning for Ethar to follow. North. Ethar trailed after him warily, not sure this was such a good idea. He remembered his last battle alongside Garlin. He had long forgiven Garlin for abandoning him, it was the heat of battle after all. But he didn't forget the young Daleman was much better with a sword than he. By a lot.

He marked their backtrail for Jarl and Gramil to follow, nervously looking behind him. But all he saw were trees, standing tall and silent about what they had witnessed.

[ October 19, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Celebmornie

10-17-2002, 05:39 PM

***Rivendell***
Thule wakes up and goes for another walk the sun is still hidden so she knew she didnt sleep much but it was enough! She saw that a fire was going in a room ahead and wondered of it was for the trip. She quietly walked to the door and knocked.

Kettle of fish

10-18-2002, 02:29 AM

***** Dale-Rubin *****

save

Child of the 7th Age

10-18-2002, 09:41 AM

****Harad/Umbar****

Under cover of night, Urken had managed to sail north of the pirate vessel and lay hidden as they had agreed. Now, at the appointed hour, he swiftly turned his ship about and brought it down the river, intending to pen in the pirates with no hope of escape.

As he rounded the bend in the river, an amazing sight greeted his eyes. It was one he devoutly hoped he would never see again. He had a clear line of vision to the two ships. They stood and faced one another. The broad frame of Fuinur's ship was directly exposed to the Corsairs. A barrage of arrows and flaming oil barrels were falling onto the deck of the vessel.

This was not supposed to happen! Urken had assumed that they would be victorious against the pirates. He could then present himself to the men of the town as the saviour of Gondor.

Urken ground his teeth. He was a man of Umbar. The love of ships and the sea was bred into his bones. He had been around ships and conducting skirmishes on the water at last since the age of 15.

These lumbering kings of Harad had about as much understanding of naval tactics as his old Aunt Ungit! Fuinur should have had the good sense to angle his vessel so that the whole broadside of the ship would not be exposed to enemy fire. Urken howled in frustration. Herumir was useless and drunk half the time, but he'd expected better things from Fuinur. Ah, what could you do with these lovers of land who only wished to roam their coffee plantations from the back of an oliphaunt?

If truth be told, Urken hated oliphaunts. They were necessary military tools to him. That was all. But a lovely, glistening ship--that was another story. Urken had far more love for ships than men and hated to see one abused through ignorance as Fuinur was doing.

Within a single instant, things went from bad to worse. Fuinur casually loaded his catapault and aimed right at his own masthead. Urken put his head into his hands and moaned. How was he ever going to accomplish his stated task when he had a group of incompetents travelling with him?

Urken looked at the stern of his vessel. There, right behind them, were two ships from the port of Pelargir which had been sent down to fight the pirates. They had come in response to the message he himself had sent to the mayor by pigeon. At least, the three ships would not have any trouble quelling their enemy.

However, to Urken's consternation, the sailors from Gondor had gathered on deck and were pointing fingers in the direction of Fuinur and his misaimed catapault. They were holding their sides and laughing. Urken had a devout desire to sink into the river and never be seen again.

With the three ships working in tandem, they had little trouble surrounding the Corsairs and forcing them to surrender. Actually, they refused to surrender, but did abandon ship. The sailors plunged off the side rail and disappeared into the night.

At least the ship itself was preserved intact! The same could not be said for Fuinur's vessel. The main mast had been so injured by the catapault blow that it would take many weeks of repairs to salvage the ship.

Urken scowled when he saw that. Now what were they going to do? How were they going to get to Minas Anor? He'd think about it later.

But at least one part of his plan seemed to be working. After bring the skirmish to a successful conclusion, the captains of the ships from Gondor asked Urken and the kings to lay into port and come visit with the mayor of Pelargir. They agreed. Fuinur was in quite bad shape and had to be supported by his men. When the mayor saw his miserable plight, he offered to have him sent to the local house of healing.

Urken managed to keep an impassive face, but between gritted teeth he muttered to himself: "Healing? I would rather send him to his execution, if truth be told."

However, in the interests of diplomacy, he politely agreed. Fuinur was bundled into a cart and carried away to the healers.

The mayor provided him and his men with pleasant accomodations, and it was agreed that they spend the night. They would meet later in the mayor's hall for a feast given in their honor. Mayor Elhorn was truly thankful that Urken had managed to send the pigeon out and warn them of the impending raid. He seemed willing to forgive Fuinur's vessel for acting so incompetently. Urken shook hands with Elhorn, and the two men agreed to talk further at their dinner.

[ October 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Child of the 7th Age

10-18-2002, 05:50 PM

Harad/Umbar

Urken and Elhorn were seated beside each other at the feast. They were both men of the Sea and had much to talk about and compare. Urken was surprised to find that he felt more comfortable speaking with this man of Gondor than he had with Fuinur whose knowledge of the sea was not extensive. He had never spoken face-to-face with anyone from Gondor. Still, he was suspicious. Perhaps this was an unusual man, or perhaps he was hiding things from him.

Still, they managed to spend a good part of the evening laughing about Fuinur's destruction of this own ship. Elhorn commiserated that Urken had been saddled with someone who knew so little about sailing.

"What will you do now, since you only have the one vessel?" asked Elhorn. Since the pirate ship had been taken down in the waters of Gondor, it belonged by rights to Elessar. Urken was not pleased with this, but did not want to stir up the issue on the very eve of their entrance to Minas Anor. He had larger considerations in mind.

Urken replied courteously, "I have sent Herumir and his men home overland. They've already begun their trip and have left the city. Fuinur and I should be able to share the one vessel, although it might be a bit cramped with all the oliphaunts he's brought along."

Elhorn nodded and offered to resupply the vessel at his own expense. He also agreed to write a note to Elessar requesting a private audience for the delegates with the king.

Before they broke up for the evening, Elhorn said, "Fuinur is feeling better, and should be out of the house of healing by tomorrow morning. You should be able to get underway again by mid-day. And again, thank you for the warning about the Corsair ship."

The men took their leave of each other. Urken wondered what Fuinur would think when he discovered that Herumir and his men marching back towards Harad. He was so suspicious of everything Urken did! Herumir' departure was necessary because they had only a single vessel left, but somehow he thought Fuinur might view the matter in a different light.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-18-2002, 10:13 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - Al-Gareth outside of Nurn ****

Dogs. Al-Gareth cursed, and his mind raced, looking for escape at every turn. They had gone nearly four days out of Nurn before the belling of the hounds began to track them, with painful accuracy.

The dogs that had found them however were innocent of good and evil, tails wagging as they trailed their master, or bounded ahead to new scents. But they had found the ones their master sought, and Al-Ethkeban's soldier, the leader of the group, called them back with a sharp whistle. There were eight soldiers all told, more than enough to hold two weary men.

Al-Gareth gritted his teeth as he was flung forward a few steps through the leaves by his captors. The ropes burned into his arms, his shoulders ached; they had tied his arms at both the wrists and the elbow. The bruises on his face attested to the fact he was not a cooperative prisoner, and he slowed them at every opportunity. There was no hope of rescue, but he would not go as a lamb to the slaughter. He feigned weakness, stumbling and stubborn, hoping they would relax their guard.

At noon the guards stopped for lunch, kindling a small fire. Al-Gareth's bonds were tied to a tree, while his man was tied on the other side of the clearing. The guards didn't bother to feed them.

"Let's just kill 'em," one of the men said casually, peeling a twig and flinging the bits into the fire. Others were silent, and the leader ignored him. But another agreed, sharpening his knife on a whetstone.

"They're draggin' their feet a'purpose," he complained. The leader held up his hand.

"A dead body's worse. If we bring nothing, then how do we prove what we found?" The others nodded in agreement. "But I tell you what. If he keeps dragging his feet - we kill the other one. You like that, king?"

They made somewhat better time that afternoon.

At dusk they approached a branching in the trail, familiar to them all, when the dogs suddenly bounced ahead, barking madly as if after a hare. That was all the warning they had before arrows struck the complainer to the ground, a sword struck another soldier in the gut; suddenly men, dirty and wild-haired, poured out of the forest, overwhelming the soldiers. Al-Gareth was flung to the ground, though his guards stood their post.

Their attackers had no devices nor order, but there seemed to be nearly twice as many as the soldiers. And they knew their business, rightly ignoring Al-Gareth's guards as being unable to join the fight. The soldiers were overrun, and separated.

The leader dispatched one attacker, turning too late to defend another of his men beset by two of the brigands.

"Back to back!" he yelled, "BACK TO BACK!"

Another soldier won his fight with one attacker, then was immediately engaged by another. As Al-Gareth watched, blood stained his tunic, and his sword dropped from lifeless arms. There was a shocked look on his face.

It was too much for one of Al-Gareth's guards. He launched himself at the killer of his friend, taking him by surprise, and then dispatched another in a quick volley of blows. He fought his way to his captain, who had felled another man.

They turned to face their attackers, back to back.

Their opponents no longer vulnerable, two brigands fell to bloodied steel. Then three. A volley rang to Al-Gareth's left, and he turned just in time to see his other guard topple. The brigands no longer assumed the guards wouldn't leave their posts.

There was a pause, as sometimes happens in battle, when everything stops at once. The crossroads at the crest of the hill was a mass of bodies. Only three soldiers remained, the leader and Al-Gareth's guard standing back to back, surrounded, their swords ready. The brigands around them could now be counted. Six. A third soldier hovered, half the field away, ignored.

Then everyone moved at once. One brigand fell, five attacked.. then all was still. One brigand casually pulled his sword out of a man. The two soldiers were no more. The last soldier, who had hesitated and now was outnumbered five to one, turned and fled into the forest.

Sixteen men lay dead on the forest floor. Nine brigands. Seven soldiers.

A brigand, looking no different than any of the others, approached Al-Gareth with a slow evil smile.

"What treasure takes eight men to guard it?"

[ October 19, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Alkanoonion

10-19-2002, 08:07 AM

******Harad/Umbar******

Seth was not happy. Not only had his master and best friend been hurt in the botched attack on the Corsair ship, but also their only ally had been sent packing with his tail between his legs.

Seth did not understand Urkens motives in sending Herumir home. What would they do without Herumir? He was still needed by his allies.
True Herumir was a drunk with a bad taste for ugly women, but he was a genius when it came to trade and land war. Even if his genius did not extend to matters of sea, his input so far had been invaluable.
What was Urkin thinking? Was removing Herumir part of some strategy contrived to benefit himself, or to just disadvantage his master?

Seth knew his lords mind. Not only would Fuinur be wrathful when he learned of the battles result, he would worry himself over the current situation. With the injuries he gained on the ship, he needed lots of rest to completely recover. However the immediate conditions would worry his friend. They would prevent Fuinur recovering properly. Besides, dealing with a sick or injured king was difficult enough (Irritating was a word Seth would use. Fuinur had always been one to whine), without said king being in a rage.

Hoping he was not overstepping his authority, Seth sent for his local contact in Pelargir, a man called Kurdin. Kurdin was the best spy in the area and as he had strong ties with Harad he could be relied on. The agreed meeting place was a little bar in the back streets of Pelargir. The bar, named the Belrogs Wings, while being in a little used part of the city was still unusually active.

Seth was seated in a dark corner sipping his drink, when a short somewhat stocky man strolled over to the bar. Seth was lucky to spot the entry of the man he had been awaiting. Lucky for the man was only 5 foot 3 in height and with the bar being both crowded and smoky, his diminutive figure receded into the background. A useful trait if you are a spy. Seeing Seth he walked over and settled him-self into a chair that looked as if it would break at any moment. As he motioned a serving girl, Seth examined the man more closely. The man had a non-descript face of light olive skin, short black hair and an unkempt goatee. His grey eyes, with their jovial crows feet were his most striking and only notable feature. It was a type of face that was easy trusted but equally forgettable, another important aspect for spying.

The man looked around. With a visual sweep around the room, he seemed to observe every aspect of it, making a mental note of all who lingered within.
More relaxed now, he ordered a glass of vintage Dorwinion wine, a most potent wine that did not come cheep.
“Living well I see Kurdin. Business must be going well. ” Said Seth. Kurdin laughed and sat back while he slapped his stomach.
“I have been known as a gourmand in the past, and I do enjoy fine wine every now and then”,
“Fine wine indeed” interrupted said Seth “that one bottle alone would have cost a years wages”.
“Yes it is a little pricey. I just cannot seem to stomach the local vintages. They give me wind”
“Well that fine. But I did not send for you to hear all about your bodily Functions. Thank you very much!
“What I want from you, is for you to send word to Herumir.”
“Herumir?, Why? He is on his way back to Harad on Urken's orders”.
“ Yes I know. That is why I want you to stop him. I have the feeling that we may need him later. It would be too late to send for him later as he maybe all the way back to Harad.
“Tell him to make his way with our troops, in secret to Minas Anor. Tell him it is imperative that they remain secreted; find shelter during the day and travel only at night. See if they can steel another boat if they have to but we will need him once we reach Minas Anor”.
With this message Kurdin immediately set out along with a goodly amount of Seth’s money to locate Herumir’s party.

Feeling his money-sack lighter, Seth decided to stop at the Healing house to see how Fuinur was doing.

At the house of healing, Seth checked that his friend was still doing well. He was still sleeping. The wound in Fuinur's thigh had been cleaned and stitched up. The wound had then been bandaged. Such wounds needed to be treated carefully as they would often go putrid from a poisoning of the blood. After examining the wound for him-self, he had always treated his masters wounds in battel, Seth felt more comfortable about his masters state of health. Seth settled into a chair beside his master, and soon drifted off to sleep.
Seth was awoken with a hand on the back of his head. Looking up Seth saw that Fuinur was wake and looking confused.

“How did I get here”?
“Urken and the Mayor Elhorn organised for you to be bought to this house of healing in the port of Pelargir”
“What has happened to my ship and men”?
Seth explained what had happened while Fuinur was unconscious.

Fuinur was furious when he learned that the ship had been destroyed and he swore that the foolish captain was lucky that he was dead and lost at sea because if he were still around Fuinur would have done worse things then kill him. The fool had not even aimed the catapults like he was instructed.

Seth then went on to tell Fuinur that Herumir and his men had been sent back to Harad at the instructions of Urken, but not to worry as he had sent a man to stop them. The dragon was glad that Seth had acted in his stead.

With the king once again mobile the remaining men and supplies were loaded onto the remaining ship.

As expected, Urken had chastised the king for his lack of caution in the handling of the ship, which they desperately needed for the journey to Minas Anor. Fuinur grudgingly accepted the criticism but reminded the priest that he was a warrior not a sailer.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-19-2002, 11:16 AM

**** Harad/Umbar - Gramil ****

Jarl listened to the ancient song of Nurn, impressed once again with the Harad grasp of history. But Gramil's song did not answer his question, which most pressingly concerned the welfare of his assistant, Garlin, and Nurn's laws today. The oliphaunts' rolling gait through the forest was relaxing however, and Jarl waited out his laconic companion's silence, as he had many times on this journey. The mark of a good businessman was patience, something both Jarl and (unfortunately) Gramil had in abundant supply.

Gramil seemed to come to a decision, and took a deep breath before he spoke.

"If we finished that song, brought it up to this day, I don't know what we would hear. Or I'm not sure. No news has come from Nurn since the end of the war. But perhaps," here he looked sheepishly at Jarl, "perhaps my name might come up, once or twice, in the recent past. Things that were best the king not know. If you understand me."

Jarl's eyebrows raised, though Gramil didn't notice as he attempted to keep his seat while he ducked a low-hanging branch.

"But when you have traded with people a long time, they become your friends. If they disappear and others take their place, one worries. Asks questions. That is one thing that is fatal in Nurn - asking questions.

"For anyone who is not holding a coffee shipment hostage, that is!" Gramil's eyes sparkled with humor. "Also walking alone where you are not expected to be. I lost one of my cousins to that.. custom.

"My king of course doesn't care who buys coffee beans and sells rice. And an ally is an ally, no matter what they are doing." It was the closest Jarl had heard any man of Harad question authority, even more surprising from this gentle singer and coffee merchant. "I found my friends. One was the former mayor of southwest Nurn, Al-Karech. A slave in the rice fields.

Gramil stared straight ahead, unmoving.
"If there is anything that burns the soul of a man of Harad, it is that. To hold a man against his will and work him like an animal! That which the beasts of Gondor are guilty, however long ago." Gramil's face was hardened and angry. He looked suddenly like the barbarian Harad warriors Jarl heard stories of as a child.

"I planned my next trip carefully. I made many offerings at the feasts to the gods, that Al-Karech would survive the winter. There were supposedly twenty-seven in my next caravan. That is what I told the slavers of Mordor. But really we only had fifteen.

"Nurn had changed, in just a few months. It had gone mad. Bodies hung in the trees for no crime I could learn. Brothers turned on eachother at rumors, for fear the Dark Lord would hear. Proud men were currying favor with orc Captains! We fought alongside them out of necessity, but we do not love them. Before last spring I would have said no man of Nurn would bow before such.

"At night, no man walked, and no lights were allowed. The streets were as dark as pitch. Only orcs abroad. Why would anyone outlaw light?

"I found Al-Karech, he had survived. But he would not come. He was very thin. Still he had others ready to leave, and a young king, perhaps, if they could overthrow their overseers. I had room for twelve. There were so many who wanted to come with me! I found space for nearly twice the number we planned under the rice bags, but it was not enough. Nothing could have been enough.

Gramil turned to Jarl, his face serious in the fading light.

"I would rather walk to the Blue Mountains than go to Nurn," Gramil laughed grimly, "Even Gondor. But I go where I must, because my king sends me. I do want to know what happened to my friend. My messages have never been answered. Maybe they never reached him. Maybe worse.."

"But I know even the borders of Nurn is no place for two boys alone."

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

piosenniel

10-19-2002, 01:20 PM

***** DALE - INKEEPER *****

It was an unremarkable structure which stood at the intersection of the Old Forest Road and the Langflood. Built on the western side of the river, The Trade Inn had seen the comings and goings of many years and many peoples. Wars had been lost and won about it, Kings risen and fallen in the winds of shadow and light.

Still, the need for trade wove through all - foods and the necessities of life in leaner years; welcome comforts and adornments afforded by the richer years of peace.

Bram polished the dark wood of the old bar in the pale light of late afternoon. There were only a few customers at the moment, and he was enjoying the slow pace. Business had picked up since the Great War was done, and he hadn't gotten round to hiring another helper for the kitchen and the common room. Oft times, now, he ran himself ragged filling the role of three as he poured the ale, served the food, and kept the rowdier ones in check with the threat of his great cudgel.

'Done!' he said to no one in particular, as he wiped the last stain from the wood. He stowed the cloth beneath the bar, and poured himself a pint of the dark, creamy topped ale that was the mark of the Inn. He sighed contentedly as the first swig of obsidian liquid poured down his thirsty throat. A swipe of his tongued cleared the foamy residue from his mustache. The tankard was half raised to his lips again when he heard a loud clattering on the wide, wooden porch fronting the Inn.

The doors swung open, and a ragtag group entered the common room. 'Dwarves!' he said quietly to himself. 'Now this is a rare occurrence.' Taller figures followed close on behind them, and all stood blinking in the dimness of the room. 'Elves, too! And Men, if I'm not mistaken.'

He sat his tankard carefully on the bar, and reached below to lay his hand on the stout handle of his cudgel. The unlikely group came toward him, and he watched them closely.

'Good sirs!' He hailed them in an even tone. 'Welcome to the Trade Inn. How may I serve you?' His grip tightened on the club, and he gave them an appraising look.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-19-2002, 03:48 PM

**** Harad/Umbar ****

Holding.

GreatWarg

10-19-2002, 06:12 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

Ulwyte stared icily at the soldiers. A few were lavishly attired in glinting mail and helms with great black feathers. These were mounted on horse back, and obviously of some sort of high rank or royal importance. The foot soldiers carried all kinds of weapons, including clubs with large spikes on the head, chains with a large, sharpened razor on the end, and an assortment of spears, swords, bow and arrow, and daggers. Every soldier had weapons at ready, and were bristling. It strongly reminded of Ulwyte of a wild beast about to leap upon helpless prey.

One of the mounted men, and evidently of the most importance, stooped and said something in a low voice to the lead guard. 'Commoners' did not generally talk to the leaders directly; often one of lower rank was sent to speak for him. It was quite an insult, on Kasteni's behalf, to be treated thusly.

piosenniel

10-19-2002, 06:39 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl’s face was grim as he considered what Gramil had just told him. His grey eyes narrowed, and he looked at his companion closely. He put aside polite convention and spoke directly.

‘You speak almost lightly of what must be loathsome to you, my friend. Is that your personal style when faced with such a repugnant subject, or do you seek to shield me from something further? Do you fear what we may find, when we find Garlin and Ethar? Or do you think that we may not find them at all?’ Gramil’s face gave no answer to the Dalesman’s questions.

Jarl brought his mount to a halt. ‘I’ll go no further until we have some sort of plan in place between us. I do not know the nature of the relationship between you and the young man, Ethar. But Garlin is my assistant. I have a certain responsibility to him and to the family which entrusted him to my care. Beyond that, he is a Dalesman, and as the representative of Dale, I am accountable for his safekeeping.’ He looked east through the thick cover of trees, and sought to pierce it with his gaze. ‘He is my friend, too.’ he said quietly. ‘I have grown quite fond of him. I would not lose him.’

He turned his gaze on Gramil. ‘You know the area. You will find me a willing listener. What shall we do?

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-19-2002, 06:52 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - Gramil ****

Gramil halted his oliphaunt, drawing up under the shadow of a tall fir.

"Perhaps it is my way, to smile at death. What else can one do?" Gramil said, his voice was soft, "But I too shall speak plainly.

"To you, telling tales of horror must be merely an excerize, something you might do over a campfire or in a fantasy tale to entertain your friends. Clearly you have never experienced it in life. I, in real life, have experienced horror. I know what it is like, and what it is to speak of it.

"I have known those with hearts so remorseless and black, they would drive one to death out of mere convenience for themselves. Whose best, most noble thought is personal gain. That thought at least can be understood by normal men. But their worst... is incomprehensible. All one can do is relay the facts of what they've done. But in fact their deeds are merely the outer shell, not truly what one has seen.

"I have looked into the face of evil, and I've thought on it a long time. The nature of evil is remorseless, without compassion, without empathy. It is curiousity perhaps, or it would do nothing, want and curiousity without any differentiation between harm and good. It may enjoy good one day, and harm the next. It is eager to learn the morality of men - as a tool, as puppet strings. It views such morality as limitations, something it is far above. It is a consummate actor, can appear so kind, noble even - ha, but why? It is not sane.

"It is understanding that difference between harm and good, that keeps men sane. Understanding that difference, one can look into the face of inexplicable evil and not flinch, as it twists truth, and tries to convince you of its lies.

"Of course, it would be better to never have known it at all, to keep innocence - and the ability to flinch. I envy you that, Jarl of Dale, for all that it is hard for me to imagine now what a happy life you must have lived. May all your days be such. But do not think I have told you all. No. Nor will I. As we turn towards Nurn I remember... all too much.

"But we will find the boys," Gramil clapped Jarl on the shoulder, and prodded his oliphaunt forward, "where there's hope, there's will, and where there's will there's hope. The great shadow is gone. By comparison the lesser ones seem fleeting and weak. And maybe they are just ghosts from my past?" Gramil shrugged, shaking off his memories. "Maybe.. Nurn no doubt has changed in a year. But still, the way may be dangerous for them."

"As for plans..." Gramil rubbed his chin, thinking. "We cannot break from their trail. They've turned aside once, and may again. Here though, they broke this trail and that slowed them. We have the extra food, while they will likely stop to hunt. If we push on through sunset, that will give us an extra three hours. We will need to rest the oliphaunts, but we don't need to take the extra time to build a fire and cook for lunch as we have been. We have been moving at a very slow pace. In all we can cover in two-three days what they have in five. Unless they speed up or meet a trail, we should overtake them. At least we will be close enough to signal."

"Signal? How do you suggest we signal?" Jarl asked. Gramil grinned and said something in Harad to his oliphaunt.

"Cover your ears - !" Gramil announced. The warning was just in time.

She bellowed, and Jarl's mount gave a deafening trumpet in response. The sky rang for a moment, and Gramil listened. "No. They're still too far away."

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Child of the 7th Age

10-20-2002, 08:05 AM

****Harad/Umbar****
Urken excused himself from Fuinur and went to the rear of the ship. A pigeon was winging in circles high above the mast. Urken put out his arm and the pigeon gracefully came down to perch. The priest unwrapped the tiny message attached to the bird's foot. He could not totally hide the wide smile that appeared on his face.

Fuinur looked on in disbelief. What was the devious man doing now?

Then Urken came back to the king and cleared his throat, "Ahem, we've had a slight change of plans. I know how concerned you are about your vessel. We will be staying in port today. I've had a promise from a skilled shipbuilder to look at the masthead, and see if it could not be fixed within a few days. They have the most talented shipbuilders in the world in this city so perhaps there is hope. Mayor Elhorn has even agreed to underwrite the costs. We should know later today whether or not that repair is possible."

"Perhaps you and your men would want to spend the day touring the bazaars of the city. I understand they have many exotic and wonderful goods. We have driven the men hard since they left Umbar. Perhaps a brief rest is in order."

Fuinur looked at Urken strangely. For a moment, it looked as if he would begin to argue, but what could he say? He had no vessel of his own. And as he was an honorable man, he would not consider stealing that which belonged to Urken.

For this morning at least, their ship was to remain docked in the harbor. Urken seemed amazingly courteous to Fuinur, perhaps too courteous. Meanwhile, Fuinur didn't know whether he should feel like a prisoner or honored guest. He shook his head in dismay. For the moment he had little choice but to follow along, and keep his counsel to himself.

As Fuinur turned and was about to leave the vessel, he caught a glimpse of Urken. The latter was standing on the very edge of the harbor, his robes billowing outward as they caught the wind. On Urken's arm was a magnificent hawk which sat uneasily upon a great leather glove. Several times the bird bated, then settled down to wait. Slowly, Urken undid the beast's hood, and finally his jesses. He thrust his arm towards the heavens and the creature took flight.

As the hawk winged his way across the heavens, the priest cried out strange words totally unknown to Fuinur. Fuinur could only imagine that he used some ancient tongue spoken only by the masters of lore. Almost against his will, Fuinur found himself shudder. He commanded armies and men without number. This priest had only a handful of resources when compared with his own. Yet these words set a gulf between them which even Fuinur and all his wealth could not bridge. What were those words? Something of power surely. But what kind of power, for good or evil, Fuinur did not know.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Nevtalathiel

10-20-2002, 08:53 AM

*****DALE - Girion*****

Girion blinked a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but even before he had done that, his nostrils had given him the information he needed; the building was indeed an inn, and from the smell of it, the beer and food were both very good. He smiled, at last he would be able to get a meal which did not taste of soot and a proper tankard of ale, not the weak sour stuff they had carried with them.

He flashed a grin at the innkeeper, who seemed a little perturbed by their presence.

"First of all, we would like food and drink." And a proper bed for the night. He added mentally, though out loud he said nothing, aware that they should get along as quickly as possible, it all depended how long it would take to secure a boat.

The dwarves and the elves seemed less than comfortable sitting at one of the long oak tables waiting for the food to arrive, but the sweet smell of the wood fire and the ale meant Girion could not care less about how they felt; he deserved a break. Looking around at the smoke-stained ceiling and uneven walls, he felt once more at home and far more secure than he ever had in the forest.

At a table on the other side of the room, a group of men seemed to be discussing business. Stiffly, Girion walked over to them, to see if he could negotiate the hire of a boat.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Nevtalathiel ]

piosenniel

10-20-2002, 10:46 AM

***** DALE - Inkeeper *****

Bram loosed his grip on the cudgel, and laid both his hands on the bar. He watched as the young lordling dismissed him with a smile. He shook his head. 'His father was naught like this as a young man.' he thought to himself. 'Perhaps the young cub needs a lesson.'

Girion strode to the table where some of the locals had gathered and were discussing the uncommonly nice weather and the benefits of late plantings. One of them had just brought up a problem concerning his pregnant goat when Girion addressed him.

'I wish to hire a small ship to transport myself and my friends downriver. Have you one available, or do you know from whom we might get a boat?' He stood there, waiting, an impatient air about him.

'A boat, you say.' said one of them, turning a rheumy eye on the prince. 'Berel has a goat if you're wanting it, but no boat to my knowledge.' He laughed at Girion's discomfiture. 'Any of the rest of you have a boat this princeling might commandeer?'

They all looked at the now red-faced Girion. Then one of them pointed toward Bram, who stood behind the bar watching the interchange. 'If it truly is a boat you want, and not the proffered goat - then it's him you should be asking about it.'

Girion walked to the bar and made as if to speak. But Bram had made himself busy with his other customers, now. He had tapped a keg of Dwarven spirits and served up a small tot to Stonehelm that he might pass judgement on its quality.

Stonehelm caught Bram's eye and nodded almost imperceptibly toward Girion, his eyes twinkling. He downed the spirits, and slammed the glass down on the bar top. 'Comes of a fine making, I can tell you that.' he said, running his finger around the rim of the glass. 'But it's young still, needs aging to bring out its full character. A few more years will temper that overbearing taste it now has, don't you think?'

Bram took the glass from Stonehelm and wiped at the small ring it had left on the surface of the wood with his rag. He heard Girion clear his throat to draw his attention. Bram looked up and casually regarded him, taking him in in full measure.

'So, Dalesman, what is it you need of me?'

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel

10-20-2002, 12:19 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

' . . . to keep innocence - and the ability to flinch. I envy you that, Jarl of Dale, for all that it is hard for me to imagine now what a happy life you must have lived.'

Jarl's eyes were hooded, and he said nothing in return. He recalled his time spent at the side of the King in Erebor during the War. Dale had been overrun by Sauron's troops from the East, its army defeated. The citizenry had taken refuge with their allies, the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain, and fought against the besieging Easterlings. It had been a bloody war, and many of his friends had died cruelly at the hands of the Dark Lord's minions.

'Let Gramil keep his innocence and his stories if he must.' he thought to himself. He drew his bow and quiver of arrows from behind him. The oliphaunts rolled along, great ships sailing slowy through the trees.

He inspected the tips of each arrow and looked carefully at his bow string. Then sitting back, he recalled the lessons a certain Mumak warrior he had befriended after the War had given him, on the advantages of positioning one's self atop the oliphaunt to shoot downward at one's foes.

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

The trumpeting of the oliphaunts took him by surprise. 'How interesting!' he thought to himself. 'So much for any stealth on our part. Everyone should now know where we are.' He leaned back in his saddle and urged his mount on at a faster pace. Gramil did not appear especially worried. May as well follow his lead, he thought.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-20-2002, 12:28 PM

**** Harad/Umbar ****

Holding.

Alkanoonion

10-20-2002, 03:40 PM

**** Harad/Umbar ****
It was late afternoon. The port of Pelargir for all the surrounding water was a hot and humid place. Despite the heat and humidity Fuinur had found a dockside crate to sit upon. He was waiting, waiting for news concerning the ships repairs. The crate was in an uncomfortable spot. However the location was perfect for a good sulk.

Their ship was to remain docked in the harbour for at lest a day as skilled shipbuilder were attempting to repair the masthead.

Although repairing the damaged vessel was a logical step, Fuinur felt frustrated. He resented a situation were every decision seemed to be what Urken desired. The man seemed determined to take control of every aspect of this venture.

“Oh get over yourself!” Fuinur reproached himself
“You could be with your men enjoying this time off to explore and enjoy this city”. Fuinur decided that he would go and find something to occupy his thoughts other than ships, untrustworthy travel companions, and disobedient
Oluphaunt.

Touring the bazaars and other popular sights were not a soldier’s idea of fun. Rather a public house; with a bar, lusty barmaids and enthusiastic musicians was what he needed. As well as a lot of grog. That’s what he needed to forget his problems, at lest for a little while.

Having talked himself out of his little sulk, Fuinur left the hustling harbour district to find some obliging pub for a little amusement.

The ‘The sailers barnacle’ was a popular public house for sailors and other undiscriminating residents. ‘The sailers barnacle’ was a nice rat infested hole of corruption. Not the type of place Fuinur would normally socialize in, it was more to Herumir taste, which was probably why he chose it. He was missing his friend, and the place reminded him of Herumir. There were several ugly barmaids and villenous looking characters hiding in the shadows.

Fuinur headed for the bar. After pushing aside a patron too far gone in drink, made him-self comfortable in his victims stool.
He ordered ale, after sampling this he turned to enjoy the attractions around him.

Many of the customers were kept occupied by the barmaids who instead of working appeared more interested in socializing.

Fuinur was amused to note one couple in particular; a barmaid who had a very generous bosom was sitting in an old sailors lap. The old sailor, being rather diminutive and aged looked most comical with the somewhat younger and plump serving girl. He was completely smothered by the enticing flesh so much so that the man was barely visable.

Fuinur, laughing into his pitcher of ale, turned back towards the bar. He had gained a new neighbour during all the fun. Beside him was Seth
“Where did you come from” said Funiur
“I just returned from riding out to catch up with Kurdin so that he lets Herumir know what has been going on”
“Any chance for a drink?” asked Seth
Fuinur called a barmaid over to bring a drink of ale for Seth.
The two men moved to find a quieter corner of the bar to drink.
The two settled in a dark corner to finished the first round.

It was Seth’s turn to bye the next round. After each round the two would take it in turns to bye the next round. This went on for quiet a time until later that night it was once again Seth’s turn, with no serving girl nearby Seth went up to the bar himself. Finding the barman Seth ordered the round and started back to fuinur. On the way back a drunken man decided to have some sport with Seth. The drunk stretched out his leg so that Seth tripped over him, sending the two mugs that Seth had been caring flying across the room and into the back of another patron.

The patron thought that it was the sailor across from him who had thrown the drink, because he had made a crude joke about the sailor’s mother. Tapping the sailor on the shoulder, the patron smashed his fist into the sailors face. The sailor threw a glass of stale wine at the man, narrowly missing him with the glass but instead hitting a group of dwarfs across the room, drenching them with its contents. The dwarfs, being drunk started fighting with all the customers leaving a bloody trail wherever they went. Soon the whole bar was a heaving mess of men and Dwarfs fighting.
“Deash t’all heashens, an’ coffen pyrates” (Translation: Death to all Heathen and coffee pirates) was the passionate but slurred battel cry of Funiur as he jumped into the fight, but being drunk he was soon knocked unconscious by a flying chair.
“So much for never being defeated in battel” Thought Seth, before he found a wall with his face and knocked himself out of the fight.

Later the local garrison emptied the bar. The garrison had thoughtfully dumped the two friends into a local gutter, rather then putting them in jail. It had been a busy night, so all the jails were full.

[ October 21, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

The Barrow-Wight

10-20-2002, 04:34 PM

* * * * * Rhûn Nation * * * * *

Kasteni motioned for his guard to wait while he road forward to meet the strange soldiers. The man on foot that the mounted leader had spoken to walked forward, but the Advisor used Petrij to brush him aside and pushed his way to the other man. “You bar our way across this road,” he said, speaking directly him “and we are in haste. Stand aside.”

The foot soldiers grumbled at the commanding tone Kasteni used, but the man sat silently assessing the group he had stopped. The man Kasteni had ignored approached again and said, “You must speak to me, for Ninos does not speak to those he does not know, especially strangers.”

“Strangers?” asked Kasteni. “We are but two days from Ozvalda and you name me a stranger? These lands belong to Mislavini, and I speak for him in saying that you are the strangers. Identify yourself or prepare to experience an Ozren welcome to our land. One that you will not survive.”

The strange leader smiled and spoke. “Kasteni, you know me well.”

“Of course I do, Ninos. And you know me. So why do you approach as enemies?”

“We ride defensively, Kasteni, and we ride in retreat.”

“As do we, though we were in fact riding this way. It would appear we both ride to and from danger. Tell us what lies ahead of us and we will likewise share the same information.”

Ninos was the lord of Losinj, easternmost of the Ozren client kingdoms, and he and his party had been riding to Ozvalda to participate in the Year’s End celebrations when they had been waylaid by bear-like beasts and besieged in the Karloba Hostel. The motley group of soldiers that accompanied him now was the remnant that had survived the attack and they had hoped to be clear of the monsters. But after Kasteni related the tale of the previous evening it became apparent that the road to Ozvalda was not safe.

“Let us ride together to my land, Kasteni,” said Ninos. Together our groups can better survive and it will help you along your westward road."

“Agreed. You will find no sanctuary to the east. How far is it to Karloba?”

The standing man answered, “It is less than three hours, my lord, and if we go quickly we can reach Vakuf before dark.”

Kasteni nodded. Vakuf was a small city of a few thousand souls, mostly criminals and vagabonds, but the place was walled and well defended, and no group of wild monsters would defeat it easily. There, horses could be replaced and a quick dash westward would put them into Ninos’ kingdom.

“Yes. Let us ride to Vakuf immediately.”

VanimaEdhel

10-20-2002, 05:20 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

The men rode, making haste towards Vakuf. They could still hear howlings and other unfriendly sounds in the distance.

"They sound as if they care coming nearer," Lovek said, "I suggest we send out a small search party ahead. Just so that we know that we are not running right into a trap. At the first sign of trouble, they can return, and we can seek alternate paths."

Kasteni complied to this, reluctantly. Khuleln, about two guards from Kasteni's group and about five men from Ninos's army rode ahead.

*********

Khuleln and the other men rode ahead cautiously. They looked around, nervously. Suddenly, they found many more were-bears surrounding them.

"We must fight to get out!" one of the guards shouted.

"Is that not obvious?" Khuleln shouted back.

The men drew their arms and prepared to fight. The were-bears quickly moved in and attacked.

Two were-bears fell, and Khuleln felt himself knocked down. The were-bear on top of him suddenly collapsed. A guard pulled the bear off and Khuleln quickly rose to his feet again.

The men fought for about fifteen minutes. One horribly injured guard fell, having lost too much blood, immediately passing out. One by one, the others fell too, until only Khuleln and another guard were left, defending their lives.

"We cannot take them!" Khuleln shouted.

"We should die with dignity, though!" the other guard shouted back, "We must go down fighting and not give up!"

Khuleln felt himself knocked to the ground. He felt warm breath on his neck. He closed his eyes and awaited his fate, which soon came...

The last guard lasted five more minutes, before meeting the same horrible end. The were-bears had their feast...

**********

At the first shouts, Ninos, Kasteni, Lovek, Ulwyte, and all of the men stood, preparing for the others to come back so that they could flee. They waited a good while, and, when the last shouts had died down, they waited for a minute in silence, in memory of the dead, then quickly road Northward for a few miles. They determined that the path there should be safe.

They continued on in silence for a good hour. They then went South a few miles, to get back on course for Vakuf.

Soon, they saw the town in the distance as a tiny glimmer of light on the horizon-line.

Tharkûn

10-20-2002, 06:58 PM

*****Dale-Garlin******

Garlin kneeled, hiding in the bushes, waiting for the signal from Ethar.

It had been two days since he and Ethar had found the bodies. Feeling that it was the fallen men's spiritual right, he had insisted that they make an impromptu burial for the bodies. The soldiers, of which there were eight bodies, were given graves entangled with an old tree's long roots. A natural coffin. The wild-looking men were thrown into a large pit, the way they probably would have been in their tribe. After that, Garlin and Ethar had continued with caution, even encouraging their mounts to tread softly (for an oliphant, anyway). About a day ago, they had found a path crudely cut into the forest. They had tied their oliphants to sturdy trees, and followed the path. They were now at the camp. There were, as both could see, two hostages tied to a stake in the ground in the middle of camp. There were five of the strange, wild-looking men; three were eating a roast hog, and two were standing guard on the path. These two made Garlin glad they had followed the path through the forest. Garlin circled 45° around the camp, and Ethar 45° the other way. The idea was a pincer attack on the camp, taking down maybe two in the confusion, rescuing the two captives in the middle, and taking the rest down with the captives' help...

A movement! An arrow shot into the air, away from the camp so the 'wild men' wouldn't notice. Quickly, he drew an arrow from the quiver, which he had moved to his belt for better riding, and placed it on his bow. Carefully drawing the string back, he mentally reminded himself, both eyes open, a lesson he learned while hunting for dinner. Taking careful aim, he let fly. The arrow landed with a meaty thunk in one of the diner?s eye. Hmm, four on four, not bad, he silently told himself, as he drew his sword, and charged into camp.

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Tharkûn ]

Cuthalion

10-21-2002, 01:05 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mountain^^^^^^

Settling himself at the end of the bar where he could keep an eye on the rest of the room, Durgan ordered a pint and listened as Girion and the innkeeper struck up a conversation regarding the boats needed for the trip down-river. He took a long pull at his ale and for the first time since they had set out, he smiled broadly and called to the innkeeper, Fine brew! Pass me another and some food along with it! Maybe with a full belly he would be able to accept better the task at hand instead of being quite so opposed to the changes he heard being discussed. As he tucked into his meal he remained watchful, yet vaguely he hoped he might be able to strike up a friendship of sorts with one of Elves, or one of the Men of Dale. He shrugged, Suppose it couldn't hurt, might find out something useful. he thought to himself as he downed the second pint as fast as he had the first.

Amanaduial the archer

10-21-2002, 03:27 PM

Brando had been sent to bed earlier than the others, but had waited until theyd come in and were asleep. He saw Odo go out of the room, counted to ten and slipped out himself.

As he left the room, he made his way down the corridor, he marvelled at the elegance of the carvings, paintings and statues, so real looking that he found himself touching his forehead and bwoing to some of the stern elven statues. He came to the end of the corridor into an open courtyard, and stood with his jaw open at the beauty of the place. A small ornamental minature waterfall trickled over smooth rocks and lilies in a small pool. Quietly the small hobbit found himself wandering over to the pool, entranced, but when he was a few metres away, a movement on a nearby bench made him stop. The elf he recognised as Ciri looked up when she saw him coming, her elf hearing picking up the smallest sounds of his footsteps. Brando started to walk away but she stopped him.
"Wait..Brando is it?" Her voice was soft and musical and made the hobbit lad turn.
"Oh..yes, yes thats right...Ma'am?" He wasnt sure how to address her, and was fervently wishing he could remember her name.
"Its Meneciriel. Ciri. Why are you wandering around so late at night? I thought all of the hobbits went to bed?" She moved over slightly on the bech, indicating him a place to sit. His jaw dropped open until he caught himself. Could she read his mind? After a moment he realised shed asked him a question and blushed, realising what a fool he was making of himself.
"I..I had to go before the council ended anyway. I just...well, this place is so..beautiful!" He breathed.
Ciri laughed, a sound like elegance itself. "Me neither. Come; I havent heard of the shire for centuries."
"Oh, of course. And I havent heard much about the elves for..." He tried to work out how long, but gave up, realising he couldnt beat centuries."...A long time anyway."

OCC: Sorry if this clashes, but in the most recent post i can find, everyone seems to have gone to bed.

Isilya

10-21-2002, 04:46 PM

*****MIRKWOOD CONTINGENT*******

"My Lord, I think we should follow the trail here. Even if it isn't her brother's group, it's most likely another group headed for Minas Anor."
"True, Thoron, and I think that we will follow it. There is an inn not far from here. It is very probable that they stopped for rest and a good meal. Let us carry on."

At that, Lord Lanothir and Thoron made their way down the trail with Isilya still asleep on Thoron's horse. This had been the longest time since they had found her that she had been unconcious. Thoron was becoming concerned, but his master thought nothing of it.

"Here is the inn I spoke of, Thoron. Stay here with the horses and Isilya, and I will inquire inside."

Lanothir dismounted from his horse and handed the reins over. Walking over to the door of the inn, he hesitated momentarily before stepping inside the threshold.

"Did a group of men, dwarves and elves stop here recently, good sir?"
"Why, yes, they're here at this very moment. They plan to leave soon, though. What do you wish of the group?"
"I wish to speak to Nefros, one of the elves."
"Give me a moment, my lord. I will go and find him for you."
"Many thanks."

[ October 21, 2002: Message edited by: Isilya ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

10-21-2002, 07:11 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely MT^^^^^^

Frain was a good listener. After drinking a pint (or two), Frain did nothing but listen to the sounds around him.

Nefros, there is someone outside for you.... Frain heard the inkeeper say. He stood close, a few chairs away.

Frain turned his head and watched as Nefros walked out the doorway of the inn. Frain watched the door intently, reaching for his axe which he had set near his chair.

A moment later, Nefros walked in. In his arms was a lovely elf, looking very groggy indeed. Was that the elf that had been caught by spiders?

Guildo

10-21-2002, 08:15 PM

<<<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>>>

Orodan & Nefros

Orodan was begining to enjoy the Dwarven Ale quite well, and was quite entertaned by the fact that Stonehelm was becoming better friends with the Innkeeper than Girion.

When Nefros heard the word someone was looking for him he was quite startled, but Orodan knew Lanothir, and as he saw the nomadic elf peek in the door with a rather curious look on his face he nudged Nefros to go talk to him. Orodan knew it wasnt of Isilya's death, for Lanothir knew of Orodan and Nefros's friendship and in that case would have asked to speek to Orodan.

"Always cautious of everyone arent you Frain, i supposed that is an admirable trait, and im greatfull your looking out for dear Nefros"
Orodan said as he leaned towards Frain and the other Dwarves with a Smirk on his face and coninued.
"We are about to witness the light come back to that elves eys"

As Lanothir saw Nefros aproach he said.
"Oi Just the ............" but Nefros shuved him to the side at the first sight of his siter lieing in the back of the wagon.
Lanothir returned the push with a smile and a laugh.

-Back inside the Inn-

Orodan joined in the Conversation with Stonehelm, Girion, and the Inkeeper.
Stonehelm and Girion where running out of ways to ask the humble buisnessman for use of his boat. When Orodan began to say...

"My friend Bram, do you realize, two princes and a King of unlike races have come here to your very Inn to ask you, the Noble Innkeeper of a Humble Inn, for your help in a task ordered by the High King himself.
Im not asking for you to give your boat away my friend , we will pay you well, and you may journey with us if you like im sure the Prince of Dale would not mind you as another Represenative"

Orodan Begain to continue his speach when Nefros walked in the door with Isilya in his arms, and at that point he could do nothing but smile and cheer, and soon the entire Pub was filled with aplaud and salute mostly directed at Nefros but also to Lanothir and Thoron.

Belin

10-21-2002, 11:34 PM

*****Rivendell*****

The hobbit's soft footfalls made no echo on the floor of the great hall, but the dwarf's boots were another story. All the same, Elladan was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't glance toward them for several seconds, by which time he had already considered carefully the option of dropping into the shadows and waiting for them to go away. He had no intention of revealing his worries to all and sundry, and in particular to guests. In any case, nobody, with the possible exception of Elrohir, knew how carefully he planned his interactions with others, how he spent long nights quietly wandering the halls in search of insight, and he wasn't quite sure what he would do if someone were to mention these odd habits to him. He imagined, briefly, that he might show them a far less diplomatic and agreeable side under such circumstances.

But these were guests, and they walked with soft steps that bespoke their awe of Rivendell and the beauty of the hall they entered. Serin, then. That Mikhelm would never walk in such a way. Elladan had been pleasantly surprised by the younger dwarf. Quick to conversation, eager to learn, and hopeful about the king, Serin was everything that Elladan had not expected from the dwarves, and just what he might have wanted from a friend. It occurred to him, fleetingly, that perhaps Serin too was using the night to consider the very problems that troubled Elladan, but he quickly pushed this thought away. After all, he wouldn't have wanted Serin to think any such thing of him.

Besides, with him was a hobbit. Clearly, this night was to be a social event. Very well, then. He moved toward them.

"The moon?" he said.

They glanced at each other, slightly disconcerted by this way of starting a conversation. Orlo muttered something and stared at his feet. Serin stood quietly for a moment.

"Is it for the moon, then, master elf, that you're here?"

Elladan paused as well. "No," he said finally, "this is the night before the journey, and I am restless." Certainly this was close enough to the truth.

"Then you understand--" began Serin, but stopped short. Orlo, at the same moment, had piped up, "Me too," in a moment of daring. He felt a sudden strange elevation. He was part of this company as well, he understood their restlessness, he was every bit as worthy of... oh, they were looking at him.

"You are eager to be off, then, Orlo Hornblower?" asked Elladan.

"I am... Well, yes. I've never been to any of the great cities before, I've never seen the king, I've never seen anything really. Will it be all right?"

They were still staring at him. This was not how he was meant to talk, he was sure of it.. he nudged Serin. He had spoken of this with the dwarf before, so he at least should understand.

Serin bowed, apparently gathering his thoughts. "I think Orlo is really wondering about some of the members of--"

"Fanelen!" cried Elladan. She must be completely transparent to them. Silly girl. He would have to-

"Of our own party, actually," finished Serin, with a shrewd glance at the elf.

"Perhaps," answered Elladan slowly, smiling in spite of himself, "perhaps we shall have to watch them."

Serin considered. "An alliance for alliances?"

Orlo frowned. An alliance against those against alliance seemed to him to have certain problems that he didn't know how to articulate, exactly.

Alkanoonion

10-22-2002, 07:11 AM

****Harad/Umbar****
The two men picked themselves up out of the gutter and slowly made their way down the road towards the sound of laughter that was escaping out through a doorway in the narrow street.

Fuinur kept tripping over as he attempted to make his way towards the laughter, but with his walking ability somewhat impaired from the grog he would fall down each time he endeavoured to step forward. His legs would wobble and then give way to the bulky body above. Having a pair of legs that refuse to function, as they should, was no deterrent to Fuinur. He would just pick himself up off the ground and return to his unsteady motion. Seth was in no better condition. Rather with every stumble, Seth would collapse along with his friend.

As the pair progressed along with their stumbling mode of travel, Fuinur notice that the enticing sound was getting louder. This seemed to encourage the pair to double their efforts. Where there was laughter there was bound to be more ale.

As the two got closer to the sound they realised that the sound was from a tavern. The tavern was called ‘The Captains Parrot’.
Hanging from hooks above the door was an old wooden sign that had been painted. The painting consisted of a pair of sailor’s pants, which Fuinur had no idea what the pants had to do with a parrot.

The tavern was reputed to being a somewhat more respectable tavern then the previous one and so the tavern owner charged more for the food and grog. This was made up for with its high quality of food, drink and clean interior. Being drunk, all these details meant nothing to the pair, assuming that they had herd of the taverns reputation. All they were concerned with was getting some more ale into their bellies.

Reaching the tavern door, Fuinur flung the door open. A wave of heat, laughter and the smell of stew hit Fuinur and Seth full in the face reminding them that they had not eaten since the noon meal.
A large fire that was roaring in the hearth lighted the tavern. Hanging from a hook was a cauldron filled with the stew that filled the tavern with that delicious aroma that had Fuinur’s mouth watering.
The tavern was crowded and the two men were forced to push their way through to the proprietor who was standing behind a bar.
“Twoo roomsh peass …and some oaf ‘hat steshw peasesss!”

The proprietor was reluctant to sever two customers who obviously were very drunk. However, the proprietor was very conscious of the two men’s strange clothing and dangerous looking weaponry. Not wanting to have his property or his person damaged, he offered to serve the two their stew in a room up stairs. Hopefully the pair would fall asleep.

With the temptation of a good meal, the pair forgot the idea of ale. They collected a bowl of stew each and stumbled their way up the stairs to the room indicated by a lad from the kitchen. The lad prevented both of the grown men from falling down the stairs by pushing both from behind one in front of the other until they were all safely above. The stew was not as fortunate. A great deal of it found its way onto the floor and stairs, much to the proprietor’s wife’s annoyance (the proprietors wife made her husband sorry for letting the two ‘clots’ stay at her nice clean inn, by making him sleep on the floor).

Once inside the room the two drunks flopped onto the two beds. The two quickly polished of the remaining soup and letting the bolls drop to the floor, both men settled in for the night.

piosenniel

10-22-2002, 11:16 AM

***** DALE - Innkeeper *****

Bram laughed and looked at the silent Stonehelm. 'Who sent these young pups to bargain for a man's boat?' he asked.' He turned back to Girion, the Elf having gone off to see to his newly returned companion.

'The ship is yours for the asking, young sir. It rightfully belongs to Dale. A certain man named Jarl, travels through here occasionally, and he asked me on behalf of King Bard to keep the ship in readiness for aught that it might be needed.' He eyed the young prince. 'Dale has always traded fair with us, and I said that I would do that for him.'

Stonehelm smiled at this answer, while Girion looked perplexed. 'You mean we might have had it all along? Why give us so much trouble about it then?' the prince asked.

'It's not something to be given lightly, even to one such as yourself. I wished to see if you knew anything about piloting such a vessel. And I found that you did not. You asked only to hire the ship. Naught about someone knowledgable to captain it down a river that I would think none of you knew much about. And then, of course, there is the question of the first mate to assist the captain.' He eyed the entire group, and laughed. 'Begging your pardons, sir, but none of you look as if you had spent much time working on a ship, much less travelling on one.' This last remark was aimed at both the Elves and Dwarves.

'And as for the offer being named a trade representative for Dale, that is what I am already, by the grace of King Bard.' He looked at Girion. You would have known that, had you taken time to ask your Father or the Head of the Merchant Guild for particulars about possible contacts.'

He sighed, and sat down on the stool behind the bar. 'I have been waiting for you for at least a week now. The King sent a messenger bird to me, detailing your mission and how you might need my assistance. All is in readiness for you. The ship sits ready to sail, supplies have been taken on board. There is even a place where you might keep safe your ponies. Though it is larger than I thought you might need - I had expected you to come more quickly by horse.'

And the Captain you mentioned,' asked Stonehelm, 'would that be you, by any chance?'

Bram laughed deeply at this remark. 'My good Dwarf, what a compliment!' He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. 'Nay, your Captain lives a days journey downriver. He knows we are coming. We will pick him up there, tomorrow.'

'We?!' said Girion, arching his eyebrows at the Innkeeper.

'Yes, you won't be rid of me that easy, young master! I shall be the first mate, and pilot the ship down to the good Captain's place on the river.'

Bram came out from behind the bar, a large seagoing bag gripped in one hand and his cudgel in the other. All the companions' eyes had now turned to him. 'It's good that you have not yet unloaded all your wares and belongings. We have a fair wind this late afternoon, and the current runs with us.' He called to his wife in the kitchen that he was going. She came out wiping her floury hand on her apron and gave him a farewell kiss and a promise to watch well over the Inn.

Let's go gentlemen . . . and m'lady." he said, nodding his head to the fair Elf maid. 'Our ship awaits us, as does the King in Minas Anor.'

He led them out and down to where the ship was docked, their protests and grumblings unheeded. His eyes sparkled as he bade them climb the gangplank and load their belongings aboard. He pulled in the plank once all were on board, their gear and ponies safely stowed. Then he bade old Beor, who sat on the dock fishing, to cast them off.

The sail, now unfurled, caught the wind, and they were off. But only he seemed to be smiling at the thought of it.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

10-22-2002, 03:41 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely MT^^^^^^^

Frain's eyes darted to and fro as the conversations of a boat continued quickly. Frain had no interest in boats. Bram was right, he had no experience or training on boats. This journey was not only full of surprises, but it also brought out the best and worst in the company. Everyone would change in some way, or learn something.

In the end, it was Frain's turn to sigh. Yes, a boat. He knew it would come to taking a boat a ways down the great Anduin, yet he had no idea it would happen so quickly. He was glad somewhat. The Trip seemed almost over. Yet he felt almost sorrowful to leave such a fine company.

But that day was a ways away, of course. Frain was getting ahead of himself.

And then there was Bram! So he was to go along with them? The group was picking up new members quicker than a spider catches flies. Bram annoyed Frain endlessly. Now he was to be stuck on a boat with the innkeeper?

Well, that is what I get for agreeing to come on this trip. And not a sight or thought of riches or reknown yet! Thought Frain to himself.

A boat. That still troubled him. The boat seemed, unstable, in a way. As though it would not hold them in the monstrous Anduin. Oh yes! The Anduin! Such noise it made. Frain had no need of a cabin for sleep! The river roared so loudly it could wake anybody, deep sleeper or no. The cabins were small and smelly anyway. Nothing like the cool, calm, strong walls of his bedchambers back home.

Ah well. Dwarves can survive anything, and I will not be the one to whine and prove that wrong. Frain told himself.

Frain prepared his smaller packs of goods and such clothing he needed. Soon, he would board the ship, and even more so the great Anduin.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

Cuthalion

10-22-2002, 03:57 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mountain^^^^^^

Durgan rose from his place at the bar, though not without misgivings. He was glad however that Bram, who seemed to more than up to the task at hand, was to go with them. The more experienced hands on the boat, the more confident he felt that they would make the journey in one piece.

As the company began to collect their weapons and various belongings, he found himself unexpectedly eager to begin this leg of the trip. He was finding in himself the before unnoticed pleasure of discovery. His eyes opened to the fact that differences were not necessarily things to be suspicious of.

Tharkûn

10-22-2002, 05:10 PM

*****Dale-Garlin*****

Ethar watched as Garlin rushed into the clearing. The four remaining men jumped up. Three ran towards Garlin, drawing swords. One ran in the opposite direction, towards Ethar. Both Garlin and Ethar shot their bows at the same time. The man fell, Garlin's arrow sticking out of the back of his knee, Ethar's, in his stomach. He lay on the ground, wheezing. One of the three charging Garlin turned, and rushed towards his fallen companion. Anticipating Ethar's arrow, he rolled as he approached the fallen man. Ethar's arrow flew right over him. Leaping up, he flung the dagger he had drawn in his roll. Quickly it flew, spinning end over end, and smashed into the tree where Ethar's head would have been. Ethar, however, had started to run out at a curve, towards the captives. Upon reaching them, he pulled out his sword and slashed the bonds that held them. Just as they reached the enemy, he felt a cold flaring sensation in his left calf. Reaching down, he felt the dagger, thrown by the second man, embedded in his leg.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: Tharkûn ]

Elenna

10-23-2002, 10:04 AM

Ciri led Brando to a bench intricately carved with flowers. "Come! Tell me of your land."

Brando began to speak of the hobbits and the Shire with the sort of quiet love that only someone who has traveled away from their land can muster.

"You miss your land already, don't you," Ciri asked quietly.

"Is it that obvious?" Brando blushed.

"To me, yes. But there is no shame in it, my friend. We have our task to perform, and that means we have to leave our homes for a time, but we will return. And we will love our land all the more for having been away."

Side by side elf and hobbit sat, talking of the upcoming journey and gazing at the stars.

Ringwraith Number Two

10-23-2002, 10:13 AM

******The Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains******

Orlo was confused, to say the least. Both Elladan and Serin seemed to have a conspiratorial look about them, and their talk of "alliances for alliances" greatly puzzled him. Watch who? Fanelen? Or Mikhelm? Or both? He decided to speak up: he'd already proved he was a simple hobbit ; there was no harm in being straightforward.

"Excuse me, sir- sirs," he added, carefully looking at Serin. "All this talk of alliances has confused me. What exactly are you meaning?" He looked at his companions seriously, hoping they wouldn't burst into laughter at his naive manner.

Nevtalathiel

10-23-2002, 11:38 AM

*****DALE-Girion*****

Girion trailed behind his companions as they sorted out their gear into places on the boat. Across the small crapped room which hey were sharing Rubin gave him a quizical look, as if to ask whether his leg was troubling him, but he shook his head. His leg was not hurting at the moment, it was his pride which was causing him grief.

He felt humilated. He had been made to look like a fool in front of his peers. If he had had time to ask one of his father's advisers he would have done, but he had been given such short notice he could not have been expected to do everything. He clenched his fist and hoped Bram, if he had spoken the name, he would have spat it, would keep out of his way during the trip down the river and would not attempt to prove himself better than a prince. Girion had previously taken it upon himself to show several people that he was indeed fit to be a prince, and Rubin would testify that both he and Girion had been elsewhere at the time.

Slowly and what he hoped was calmly, Girion unclenched his fist and let out a long breath. His father had never been pleased by his outbursts, and he did wish to show that one day he would be a suitable ruler. He bit his lip with determination and turned to help stow his things, aware once more of the sunshine outside the small window and the ever present babble and rush of the river.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Nevtalathiel ]

Alkanoonion

10-23-2002, 07:45 PM

**** Harad/Umbar ****
It was morning. Fuinur awoke to the sound of an army of olephants marching around his bed, their feet going thud, thud, thud. Each olephaunt as it walked past the bed would raise its trunk and blurt away. Fuinur groaned and promptly fell out of bed. The olephants continued their nosey rampage around the room showing no mercy for the Dragons poor head.

“Get away, Get away” screamed Fuinur but they kept at him. Trying to get up he felt his stomach heave and as Fuinur leaned over he spewed forth a mighty river of what looked like tar, all black and sticky.

The poor king felt a trunk wrap around his waist as one of the Olephaunt’s made to attack the stricken King. Screaming Fuinur made a clumsy swing at the olepaunt but missed. “My lord Dragon you are sick,” said the olephaunt. It sounded just like Seth. Opening his eyes Fuinur saw that it was Seth and not the head of a talking olehaunt, as he had first thought.

Helping the king to stand Seth grabbed some water from a pitcher and pored some of its contents down the Dragons throat.

Seth thought grumpily of the Dragon “More like a baby, making such a fuss about a little drink. Why, anyone would think it was his first time getting drunk!”

Fuinur felt his stomach heave again and rushed to grab the chamber pot. Once he had finished vomiting, he felt much better.

“Seth looks well” was the digested reasoning of Fuinur “How can that be? He drank as much, if not more than me. He must have a gut built of cast ion.”

Fuinur vowed never to drink again.

It was many hours more before the two appeared inside the Tavern. Seeing the proprietor,who was standing behind a bar, thanked him and payed for the nights lodging. The proprietor having receiving prompt payment (most did not these days) offered them a meal of leftover stew. Accepting the meal the two sat in silence in a corner while thinking about what to do next.

Fuinur decided to see if he could find out what the progress was with the ships mast. Leaving the ‘The Captains Parrot’ the two made their way to the dock.

Arriving, a lot of activity was going on but there was no sign of Urken. Looking around Fuinur spotted Mayor Elhorn. Grabbing the mayor by the sleave Fuinur asked him were Urken was. Elhorn replied that Urken was away on private business but asked if he could help. Fuinur replied that he cold help by having Urken send him word once he returned. He would be staying in a place called the kings palace, a place that they had heard about the night before. The Palace was a place for the rich to go when they wanted to gamble or meet with women.

Fuinur felt the need for some distraction to take his mind from events from the past. He could also meet people who he could talk trade with. It never hurt to make new contacts, besides there might be a nice woman who could help him with the ach in his thigh.

Leaving the Mayor the pair made their way to the Palace, The palace was surrounded by rolling gardens filled with fountains and benches for the enjoyment of patrons to sit and rest by. The building itself resembled a palace, on a slightly smaller scale. The entrance was equally grand being made up of stone with mithril designs on it; clearly this was a place of much wealth.

Standing by the door were two guards, one on each sides. Both were armed with swords and pole arms. Entering the palace the two made their way towards a card table and not recognising the game, the two found it quite boring. They moved on towards another table. The next table that they visited was a knife tossing competition. A man, with his eyes covered would throw a knife towards a target. The target was painted half red and half black. If the knife hit the red and you had betted on that colour than you won. If it missed than the house won. Painted in the centre of the circle was a small white mark. A person could pay extra for the chace at the white mark and if they hit the mark, all money bet would be doubled, but if they missed than they had to pay double. Not surprisingly few people paid for the chance.

The Game controller saw that Seth was interested and offered for him to have a shot. It cost only 1 gold per toss. Seth declined, not having the money to spare. The men around him sneered. Not one to back down from a challenge, Seth accepted. The controller placed the blindfold on Seth and placed him on the mark. As an added challenge the conductor spun him around three times and placed a knife in his hands. Pulling back his arm, Seth threw the knife. What Seth did not know was that he was facing a window and not the target. All the spectators knew what was going to happen. They were not disappointed. A great smash could be heard as the knife went flying out the window.

The men around the table laughed at Seth’s loss as he paid over the two gold coins. Fuinur Offered to have an attempt, only he would double what Seth had lost in the original bet. The crowd went silent.

Fuinur paid over 4 gold coins. The conductor placed the blindfold on Fuinur face and handed him the knife. He winked at the crowd and spun Fuinur around three times facing him in the wrong direction. Fuinur was not fooled. He turned and threw the knife directly at the target, winning himself not only 8 gold coins but also the cheers and applause of the crowd. Laughing the pair walked away with Fuinur handing Seth back his two coins.

Next the pair found their way to a room where beautiful women were in skimpy clothing and lounging around. Seeing the pair they offered to serve them for only 2 gold each. The two men smiled at each other and agreed, “why not” they both said in unison. Each picking the women of his choice the pair made their way to a small room where two beds where set up. Removing his tunic Fuinur laid down on the table where the women started to massage his muscles

‘Ahhh, that is lovely”. The massage was pure heaven and soon Fuinur started to doze off the last thing that he remembered was thinking that he liked this little break and then he dozed off.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

Adanedhel

10-24-2002, 02:18 AM

Rira sat over looking the dock and wondered when the the ship would arrive and what condition it would be in. As these thoughts crossed his mind he rubbed his short scraggly beard and run his fingers through his thick dark hair wondering what his new crew would be like and more importantly what his First Mate will be like.
Rira liked to run a disciplined and hard working ship, but with a new crew you needed to earn respect from your crew before you could be their Captain.

As Rira pondered over this he sighed and took a long pull from his tankard and rocked back in his chair, staring thoughtfully out over the dock willing the ship to come faster.....

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

piosenniel

10-24-2002, 02:22 AM

***** DALE - Innkeeper *****

It was late afternoon by the time the unlikely crew of from the Inn had sorted themselves out into cabin mates, gotten their gear stored, and wandered up to the deck of the ship.

It was not a large vessel, that is compared to the great ships that sailed the seas of Middle Earth. But it was big enough for the river, and sturdy enough to see the companions through the greater part of their journey.

Bram stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the river ahead. He had positioned one of the sharp eyed Elves at the bow as lookout for any downed trees or other such obstacles as Mother Nature might throw their way. He nodded his head for a moment toward the West and sent a small plea to Yavanna and Ulmo to see them safely on their way.

'Orodan!' he called out to the Elf standing river watch. 'How looks our way? Is it clear ahead?' The Elf waved the all-clear signal to him, and Bram nodded back to him.

One of the Dwarves had also been up at the bow, taking in the sights of the river, and now came walking back toward the helm. His gait was a bit unsteady. 'Not gotten his sailor's legs yet!' thought Bram as he watched him step uncertainly along the deck.

'Hringa, isn't it?' asked Bram, as the Dwarf came up to him. 'Is there something I can do for you?' 'I was noticing that interesting figurehead you have attached to the front of this boat. Nice work. Small and intricately crafted. But I can't make out what it is.' He looked up at Bram, expectantly.

The Man laughed in delight at the question. 'This is how I heard the story. There was a certain young man of Dale, Jarl by name, who desired greatly to see the world beyond Dale and The Lonely Mountain. He travelled once to the wilder, southern lands - into Haradwaith and along the coasts of Umbar. For a while, it is told, he was a smuggler, having taken up with a small crew who ran pipeweed and the fiery spirits so much in demand in Southron taverns. To make a long story short, that was the figurhead on the prow of the ship he sailed on. It foundered one dark and stormy night off the Havens of Umbar, and this was all that remained of it, washed up along the beach like so much flotsam along with Jarl. He took the carving with him and made his way back to Dale. And into more respectable trading practices! It was he who left this ship here for the Trading allies of Dale to use, and I who fixed the figurehead to the prow for him.'

'A good story!' said Hringa. 'But I would still like to know what the carving represents.' Bram laughed at himself. 'Sometimes I get too wrapped up in telling a story, and forget the point of it!' He shook his head. 'It's the figure of a bloodsucking insect. They named their ship after it.' He laughed again. 'The Nefarious Neekerbreeker!'

'That is a ghastly name!' remarked Hringa. 'Indeed!' laughed Bram.

The remainder of the day passed into night as the ship ran the river. 'I knew it would be good to have Elves aboard.' thought Bram to himself. 'They never require sleep and their eyes are keen even in darkness.'

Night safely passed and by the middle of the next day they they found themselves nearing the halfway point to the where the River Gladden joined its courses to the Anduin.

'There's a dock ahead!' cried Orodan, pointing, 'and someone is waving at us!'

'That would be Captain Rira!' Bram shouted out to the companions, 'Frain and Durgan - Furl the sail and secure it as I showed you! Stonehelm,Hringa,Nefros - make ready to throw those ropes to him! Girion and Rubin - prepare to drop anchor on my order!'

The crew busied themselves with Bram's instructions and the ship was soon brought safely into dock. Rira tied off the now anchored ship. Girion and Orodan put out the gangplank and Rira stood ready then to walk up it, his sea bag in his hand and his scimitar secured at his belt.

He smiled, and shading his eyes against the lowering sun, looked over the crew now gathered at the railing. 'Permission to come aboard!' he asked, as Bram stood at the head of the plank.

Bram waved him up, and clapped him on the back as he stepped onto the deck.

'She seems a sturdy craft.' remarked Rira. He looked over the crew. 'And an interesting crew!'

'Yes. And, yes!' came the reply from Bram. 'Now let me introduce them to you.'

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Bêthberry

10-24-2002, 04:51 AM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

Stonehelm had been thankful when his bunkmate Hringa chose to go above deck. It gave him more time to pratice his boat legs and so far his head had connected with the wooden rafters only three times. He had watched the men and elves, seen how they held their legs as they trouped around the deck, and had determined to practice the style himself--a not altogether unsuccesful exercise. At least, he decided, it was good thing a dwarf's centre of gravity was lower than that of the elves.

Hearing commotion above deck, Stonehelm realized that the captain was arriving. He left his cabin and collected his travelling companions from their cabin. Sturdy Frain refused to show any discomfort from the boat's rocking, but Durgan was another matter. He was green to the gills and his braids were wet.

Ah, Durgan, how useful are you as my bodyguard when you add ale to your seasickness? Stonehelm grinned at the seasoned guard, although pickled might be a better word for the dwarf's state.

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

Tharkûn

10-24-2002, 04:58 AM

*****DALE-Garlin*****

Garlin saw the throwing knife leave the man's hand and penetrate Ethar's leg. With a grunt, his friend fell to the ground. Not realizing what he was doing, Garlin yelled at the enemies who were closing in on Ethar. One of them turned to face him. Big mistake. His head hit the ground, the look of startled surprise still on his face. With a shock, Garlin realized that he had swung far too hard, and his back would be open to attack. Closing his eyes, he wished for the best. When he finished his swing and opened his eyes, he found that the two other men who had been hostages had finished off the last of the wild men. He rushed over to Ethar, who was clutching his leg.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Tharkûn ]

Nevtalathiel

10-24-2002, 01:01 PM

Girion grumbled as he was ordered around by Bram. He hated the boat. His room was small and dark, not up to the standard he was used to. Even in the wood, he had felt there was space about him, a high room of rustling leaves and an unbounded room. Here, he felt like a caged animal, shut up in a boat which prevented him from sleeping and where he was forced to obey the orders of a man he was growing to detest.

The work required no mental effort, for which Girion would once have been thankful, but he found that after his recent diplomatic efforts, such menial tasks bored him. His muscles ached and his hands were alerady sore. He longed to be off the boat; somewhere where he could be in charge of his own actions. Even Rubin was too busy for him to talk to, but he was determined to get through the journey, if only to show Bram that he could.

Ransom

10-24-2002, 02:28 PM

==Rivendell==
Though it had taken quite a bit of maneuvering, Elrohir had escaped duty in the initial party that greeted the dwarves. Quite a bit of effort, but completely worth it. More than once, the elusive elf had been accused of slacking on a regular basis. Of course, these charges were (almost) completely baseless. Indeed, he spent most of his ‘slacking’ time reading reports from various scouts and diplomats.

He calmly rolled up a scroll containing the reports of the Elvin rangers that had led the hobbits and dwarves to Rivendell. Not much information, but some had been fairly interesting. His hopes for the journey were beginning to perk up again. He hadn’t seen a hobbit for quite a while, but their antics and shouts certainly brightened his heart. Even the dwarves weren’t half bad. They hadn’t broken anything…yet.

But one thing bothered him. Somehow, someone had convinced a certain elf named Thule to join their party as a guide. He frowned, pulling out his saber and beginning to sharpen it. Hundreds of years of experience seemed to go cry out against the simple idea of taking assassins. Elrohir stood and sheathed his weapon and, still holding the sharpening, went out to find one of his companions.

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

Silently padding through the gardens of Rivendell, Elrohir caught sight of his brother conversing with a hobbit and a dwarf. Truly amazing. Creeping closer, he discovered that Elladan was getting a head start on the diplomatic side of their trip. What was this talk of alliances? They hadn’t even left Rivendell! Elrohir smiled. Elladan was learning.

He bided his time carefully, waiting for a pause in the conversation before stepping out of the woods behind his twin and gently tapping him on his back. “Greetings, visitors from the Shire and the Blue Mountains. My name is Elrohir, and I am this conspirator’s brother. Perhaps you could introduce me to your newfound friends, Elladin.”

Amanaduial the archer

10-24-2002, 02:42 PM

****SHIRE****

"To me, yes. But there is no shame in it, my friend. We have our task to perform, and that means we have to leave our homes for a time, but we will return. And we will love our land all the more for having been away."

The elfs quiet logic and beautiful voice enchanted Brando. He had told her of the Shire..the waving cornfields...the little hobbits he played with...the little streams and valleys he searched...groves of trees he climbed...

He sighed. Ciri nudged him playfully. "Hey, this wasnt just a chance to get depressed and pour out your sorrows with a beautiful woman, was it?"

Brando blushed and nudged her back. "Oh how did you guess ma'am?" He said, bold enough to make a joke.

"Hey, I have a name, Ive told you! Anyway, is your shire all scenery then? Nothing else in it? What do little hobbits do then all day?"

The little hobbit smiled wickedly. "Oh yes of course, there are other past times. I never take more than a few bags of spuds. In a day. Usually."

Ciri laughed, grinning and punched him playfully. "Why you regular little rascal!"
He grinned back. "Hey, I think rascal is rather unfair! Especially when youre adressing the champion mushroom thief in the whole Shire!"

The elf pretended to bow and doff her cap. "Oh, I do apologise, your royal Shroomness!"

Brando laughed happily, his bashfullness and embarrasment vanishing quickly. They stared at the stars for a moment in amiable silence before Brandos eyes slid slyly towards Ciri again. She shot him a sideways glance. "That look cant mean anything good..."

"Ah, well. Fairs fair. What do little...and not so little...elves do in the elegance of these elvish..." He couldnt think of a word that would do. "places?"

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

Mithadan

10-24-2002, 02:54 PM

***Shire***

High above, a robin settled into a perch on a branch of a pine tree. This simple action dislodged a pine cone which fell towrds the ground with ever increasing speed. The pine cone's engagement with the floor of the glade was interrupted, however, by a Hobbit's head.

"Ow!" cried Brando, rubbing his head and picking out pieces of broken pine cone. The Elf laughed...

Child of the 7th Age

10-24-2002, 04:44 PM

Urken stood in the shipyards, speaking with the Man of Gondor who was explaining the repairs that were required. At the end of their conversation, he provided Urken with a long, itemized list which totalled all the items that would be fixed or replaced. When Urken saw the final figure, he blanched.

"This is half a kingdom," he growled.

"But I understand it does not come from your pocket, but that of your companion."

"That may be true," he retorted, but in the country where I am from, a man stands beside the friends he travels with." And Urken meant those words. His business affairs were his own secret, but he wished Fuinur no ill. The man could not sail a ship to save his soul, but he was a decent companion and an accomplished warrior on the land. Urken bargained with the craftsman several minutes, and managed to get a small reduction in the total, still not enough to make the figure to his liking.

Still, they promised the ship would be ready in one more day. Now, if only he knew that his other affairs would fall in line, but he could not count on that. The risk there was much greater. He'd just have to wait and see.

"I will bring these totals to my companion. He will pay you."

The craftsman laughed, "From what I hear, your friend may have exhausted his funds."

Urken looked at him annoyed, "Do not speak like this. Say clearly what you mean!"

The man shook his head, "Only this, your friend is making a spectacle of himself in the less reputable part of town. Drink, women, gambling, you name it. He's surely spent a small fortune."

Wnraged and furious, Urken looked at the man and grabbed him by the collar, "Watch your tongue, woodcarver, or I will carve you into pieces. And I want those repairs done on time!"

But, to himself, Urken wondered. Had the wonders of the port swept all good sense away? Just what had Fuinur been doing these past few days?

Now, what was the name of the inn where he was staying? And then he remembered. He sat down and addressed a note to Fuinur at the King's Palace. The King's Palace? Ah, that was at least a respectable place.

He gave the note to the messenger and slipped him a few coins for his services.
The letter presented Fuinur with the totals for the ship repair, and asked to meet him that evening. Urken laughed. That meeting should put a crimp in Fuinur's roving ways. For he intended to have a serious talk with the man.

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Celebmornie

10-24-2002, 06:29 PM

**Rivendell**
Thule looked into the room to find it empty. She started walking and soon ran into Elrohir. He was talking to a hobbit and a dwarf. "Hello Elrohir!" She said walking up to him.

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Celebmornie ]

Guildo

10-24-2002, 06:50 PM

<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>

Orodan & Nefros

Orodan didnt mind boating much himself for his life spanded long enough to take many boat journeys, and did not mind the work, as long as he saw to it that Nefros tend to Isilya below deck. Orodan jumped and meneuvered around the boat with ease, and followed every order given to him with the utmost speed, slowing down every now and again to try and confort Frain from being so cautios about his every step, as if he was going to fall off.

For the most part the only thing going through Orodan's head was which would be the best part of the boat to lay for the night, for he was especialy looking foward to sleeping under the stars, and only went below deck to check up on the other four Elves.

Aylwen Dreamsong

10-24-2002, 07:24 PM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mt^^^^^^

Frain grumbled and stared at his feet as he slowly made his way to his cabin. He was tired, his eyelids threatening not to open the next time he blinked. He hated the ship, and realized it wasn't such a joyride. Every step he took reminded him of what they were floating on, and how deep it was.

Carefully watching each step, Frain accidentally bumped into Orodan (who, by the way, tired none and made Frain rather jealous).

Friend Frain! Why must you keep your feet in such a way? Do you not trust our faithful captain? Orodan chuckled.

Sorry, Sir Orodan. And yes, I trust him very much. It is my feet that I do not trust. Unsteady, they seem. 'Tis not so under the Mountain, I assure you. Sturdy as steel, yet they seem waivering as though I can't control them. Frain shook his head in dismay at his own stability, or lack of it.

After a quick and polite good-bye, Frain continued to his quarters. He had not the chance to meet the captain fully yet, but he intended to have a chat, as the work on the boat seemed not enough for Frain's strong arms.

smilies/biggrin.gif

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

piosenniel

10-24-2002, 09:46 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

They had found the two young men not far into their search in the mountained area. Jarl and Gramil had seen the smoke of a campfire. When they dismounted a distance away from it, and had crept up on its source, they thought that Ethar and Garlin had been taken hostage.

Ethar lay still by the fire, and Garlin sat next to him, his head hanging down. Two unknown, armed men moved about the camp, speaking a language Jarl did not recognize.

He and Gramil reached for their weapons. Jarl had knocked an arrow and pulled back his bow, while Gramil drew out his blade. They advanced upon the two armed men, gesturing for them to lay down their weapons or be killed.

There was a fierce look in both the strangers' eyes and it seemed as if they might fight the approaching two to the death, if necessary.

Garlin called out to Jarl. 'Stop! These men have been helping Garlin and I get back to you. They were being held hostage by brigands, and it was when we tried to free them that Ethar caught the knife in his leg.'

Gramil had been listening to the exchange of words between the two strangers. A surprised look filled his face. He sheathed his weapon and bade Jarl put his bow away. Then he tried a few phrases on the one who appeared to be the leader.

It was now the stranger's turn to be surprised. He answered in turn, while both he and his companion sheathed their blades.

Jarl turned to Gramil, a questioning look on his face. 'They're from Nurn!' said Gramil, studying the leader closely. Jarl's eyes narrowed and looked the pair over, too. 'From Nurn. What an interesting concidence.'

********************************************
It had been a grim week's journey. The knife wound in Ethar's left calf had started to swell and fester. It had been so tender when they first found him that he had been unable to walk on it, and now he was starting to have chills.

'Fever will soon follow.' said Jarl, quietly to Gramil. 'We have got to take him to someone who can deal with this. it needs draining and poultices, and he needs a good, long rest.'

Ethar was seated, for today's journey, in front Jarl on the oliphaunt. Jarl held the young man securely against him. He was so weak, and now the fever was starting to rise. Soon both men would be drenched from it.

Gramil poured some water on a small scarf and handed it to Jarl. He placed it over the top of Ethar's head. The water would evaporate in the heat of the sun and the moist vapors would bring some measure of relief to the fevered young man.

'We'll be in Pelargir late tonight.' he told Jarl. We can get some rooms and I'll go for the herbalist. I know one there. He used to travel with the armies in his younger days. He will know exactly what to do for him.'

Al-Gareth and his companion, Al-Hafir, had joined the journey west on the invitation of Gramil. They rode on Ethar's oliphaunt, speaking only when spoken to - though often they could be heard speaking softly to one another, just low enough that Gramil could not make out the meaning.

He had the opportunity to study them intently as they rode along on this long journey. It was an interesting fact that the interaction between the two, though they were of similar age, was not one of companions on an equal footing. Rather, Al-Hafir was always deferential to the other man. And Al-Gareth, Gramil noted, always initiated the dialog. 'An interesting pair.' he thought to himself.

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

By night fall, they had entered into the city. They were all bone tired, even the oliphaunts who had been pushed to their limits. Gramil took them to a place he had used before - The King's Inn. There was a place to quarter their mounts, and a suite of rooms on the second floor that would accomodate the entire party.

The innkeeper quoted a price to Gramil, who opened his mouth to bargain for the rooms. Wearily, Jarl put a hand on his arm and shook his head 'no'.

Gramil smiled and pointed at Jarl. 'My friend here will be paying. Name the price and show us to the rooms quickly.'

The innkeeper grinned, his eyes flashing in anticipation. Sighing loudly, Jarl pulled out his pouch.

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Adanedhel

10-25-2002, 12:44 AM

***** DALE - Rira *****

Rira looked over the crew once more, looking into the eyes of each one searching for the man's weakness or his worth. As his vision passed over the last man he came to the First Mate, Bram.

'I say again, an interesting crew, but one that looks very efficient and very skilled'

He flicked a glance through the rigging and over the decking looking for any signs of neglect or misuse, upon finding none he remarked;

'You run a clean and right ship Bram, i like that'

Rira watched Bram bristle with pride and a small smile form on his lips.

'Now introduce me to this fine crew of yours, they seem like a certainly lively bunch'

He chuckled and rubbed his hands together eager to know this crew and get on with the journey ahead.....

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

piosenniel

10-25-2002, 01:40 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Bram saw several faces blanch when the phrase 'your fine crew' was spoken. He could almost hear the word, "hostages", ring through the air, and he looked about surprised that no one else could hear it.

'Well, Captain', he said, 'these are the companions we talked about several weeks ago - the ones King Bard wants delivered to King Elessar for that special audience. Now none of them have done a lot of sailing, but they are quick learners and . . . enthusiastic . . . in their own ways.'

The groans were almost audible at this remark, but he ignored them and went on.

He motioned forth the Dwarves, first. 'These are the representatives from The Lonely Mountain. Stonehelm, Hringa, Durgan, and Frain.' Next came the Elves. 'And these are the representatives from Mirkwood - Orodan, Nefros, and the lovely Isilya. Last came the Men. 'These are the representatives from Dale - Girion and Rubin.'

Bram could see some of the companions' mouths drop open at this introduction like fish out of water, gasping for air.

'He left out all our titles!' hissed Girion to Rubin. 'Shame!' muttered Durgan, looking toward Stonehelm.

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Adanedhel

10-25-2002, 03:28 AM

*****Dale - Rira *****

Rira nodded to each person in turn and noticed the nearly inaudible groan escape the lips of some of the members of Bram's crew. This brought a slight and barely noticable frown onto Rira's face, one that dissapeared as soon as it appeared.
He then moved forward and shook hands with each of the crew reciting their names with a small nod as he did so.

First were the Dwarves 'Stonehelm, Hringa, Durgan, Frain' moving on to the Elves 'Orodan, Nefros, Isilya' Rira looked at Isilya a little longer as her beauty was indeed quite spectactular, he looked into her eyes with a hard gaze but she returned it and stood stone still Rira smiled to himself and knew that there was more to her than her looks. Then came the Men 'Girion and Rubin' Rira noticed Girion grind his teeth slightly and Rubin winced when he said their names and he wondered what was wrong, but he said nothing.

The thought soon left his mind as his stomach grumbled, he turned to Bram and said;

'First Mate Bram, this is a fine crew indeed one that looks both capable and sea worthy'

Rira looked back at the group.

'....and also hungry and thirsty by the look of things. May i invite you to my house for some food and maybe a drink or two?'

He chuckled as he saw, out of the corner of his eye some of the Men and Dwarves look up with small grins on thier faces at the words 'A drink or two'.

'Let us go!'

Rira walked purposefully down the gang plank and onto the dock he turned and watched Bram then the crew come down and look around from the dock. Rira moved off guiding the group up a small path towards his home.....

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Kettle of fish

10-25-2002, 06:50 AM

***** Dale - Rubin *****

"Hush for now," Rubin whispered softly to Girion, "and look at this new captain. Look deep into his eyes. I do not think he tolerates anger or pride well. Do not let him provoke you, Girion, for on this boat he is king."

Rubin could almost hear Girion grinding his teeth. He turned his gaze back to the new captain.

Alkanoonion

10-25-2002, 10:16 PM

**** Harad/Umbar ****

“My lord, my lords are you awake?”
“Mmmm… what is it?” asked Fuinur as the girl continued her massage
“There is a man here with a message for you”
Fuinur rased his head and saw a messenger waiting for him by the doorway
Rising from the bed Fuinur approached the man and was given a note.
Fuinur thanked the messenger and handed him some coins for his trouble.

Once the man left the room Fuinur opened the letter.
The note was from Urken. The note contained a complete assessment of the ships repairs along with the total cost of these repairs; the sum was staggering to say the least. Why he could by a whole new ship for the price of the repairs. At the end of the tally was a message from Urken requesting that they meet this evening.
“ Damn him,” thought Fuinur “we just started to have fun”!
Turning to the two girls Fuinur apologised and explained that they had to leave. Fuinur winked at the girl who was massaging him before Trying to wake the snoring Seth by pressing closed his nostrils. Seth jumped up sputtering.

“Hay! Why did you do that, I was having the most wonderful dream. You know, the one with all the girls in it.”
“They all have girls in them”; laughed Fuinur “You’ll have to be more specific. Anyway, sorry to spoil your fun but we have to go. Urken has sent word. He wants to meet with us. Tonight”.

Leaving the Kings palace the pair made their way towards the harbour. Along the way they noticed a group of Oliphaunts “parked’ outside the Kings Inn.

“Strange that others would have Oliphaunts in the port” thought Fuinur. Turning to Seth Fuinur declared that he wanted to investigate further.

“Investigate. Sure! You just want to have another drink. What about Urken?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve made a solum vowel never to drink again. Don’t give me that look. I mean it this time. Anyway, we will only be a little while in there. Relax; there is plenty of time to meet with Urken. Besides it might be someone we know.” Seth practised pulling faces at his friend and master. He was not impressed with his masters renewed pledge.

Upon entering the Inns common room, Fuinur spotted someone he had not seen for a long time.

“ Gramil, you old dog. How are you? Sorry I could not meet with you before but I had to leave in a bit of a hurry. I hope my little letter helped you? How goes the mission? What are you doing in this part of the world? You were supposed to be negotiating with Jarl of Dale, representative of King Brand of Dale, to negotiate a trade agreement with our realm. Why are you here?”

Caching up the two groups enjoyed a quiet drink while Gramil filled Seth and Fuinur in on what had happened on their journey. Soon Fuinur noticed the time. He sill needed to meet with Urken. Apologising, Fuinur promised to return on the morrow.

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

Ringwraith Number Two

10-26-2002, 10:26 AM

******The Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains******
Orlo smiled, and bowed his head in respectful greeting. "Orlo Hornblower of the Shire, sir," he said.

Elladan nodded his acknowledgment, but before he could say anything, someone else walked into the room.

"I am so sorry to disturb you!" The elf started to walk away, but turned back.

"Are you the group that I am to lead?" She asked.

Orlo wondered who this newcomer was. He hadn't seen her before, and no one had spoken of her yet. Glancing at Elladan, he saw their his brow was furrowed. Orlo decided to be courteous, and bowing in the same way he had done before, he introduced himself. "May I know your name?" he asked of the Elf.

"Thule," replied the newcomer. Orlo nodded.

There was a silence. Finally, Serin spoke. "If you will excuse me," he said bowing to the company," I'm afraid I will have to retire for the night. Good night to all of you." He turned, and left.

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to say the same," Orlo said. "I'll see you all in the morning." He bowed politely and left.

He hurried down the passages and back to his room. Checking that everything was packed for the last time, he sighed with relief and fell into bed, anxious to get a good night's sleep for the journey ahead.

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

Bêthberry

10-26-2002, 11:31 AM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

Stonehelm ignored Durgan's look of reproach about Bram's breezy familiarity. He reached forward to shake hands with the man who at the moment held their lives in his hands, which he hoped were capable. Let him take his lead, thought Stonehelm to himself.

Rira, a captain to please the finest crew. We shall prove ourselves fit to the task, Captain, for I have no desire to spend my days here swabbing the deck, although a man who runs a tidy bar should have enough experience of swabbing down things, eh, Bram? A grin signalled the challenge in Stonehelm's words.

We shall indeed take you up on your offer, Rira, although some of us might be a bit beforehand in the matter. Here Stonehelm glanced at Durgan, who still looked green even in the fresh air. Tell us the tales of your mistress here, the Anduin. How capricious is she?

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

piosenniel

10-26-2002, 12:40 PM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Noting Stonehelm's words, and the color of Durgan's face, Bram grinned. He stepped away for a moment, returning with a pail and mop. By this time the remainder of the contents of Durgan's stomach had deposited itself on the deck, spattering itself a little on the hem of the fair Isilya's dress. Orodan and Nefros looked on in a disgusted manner at the now prostrate Dwarf, and went to offer their assistance to the Elven maiden.

'This does not bode well for Elf and Dwarf relations.' thought Bram, shaking his head with a half smile on his face.

He saluted Stonehelm with the mop, as the young King offered his hand to Durgan and pulled him to his feet. Then Bram bent his back to the swabbing of the deck, and told the others to go on ahead - he would be there directly when the deck was clean.

Susan Delgado

10-26-2002, 03:21 PM

******Shire******

Hardo grumbled irritatedly when Orlo breezed into the room and made absolutely no attempt to be quiet while he packed, despite the fact that Hardo was obviously trying to sleep. But, then, his whole stay in Rivendell had been like that. Everyone seemed so happy to be here with the Elves, even the Dwarves! Hardo couldn't see what the big deal was. In fact, he could have done without a lot of the singing and prancing around the Elves loved to do so much. It seemed to him that the Dwarh Mikhelm had the right idea by staying in his room as much as he could. Oh, well, at least they'd be leaving in the morning and maybe being on the road would cause the Elves to settle down a bit and not be so... rambunctious.

He rolled over to face the wall and try to get back to sleep, but Odo was snoring and the moonlight was very bright. He couldn't sleep.
Finally, he got up and sat outside in the moonlight for a while until he got sleepy again. Before he could get up and go back inside, however, he slumped sidways onto the lush grass and fell fast asleep.

Elenna

10-26-2002, 03:56 PM

The next morning dawned bright and clear. All of the hobbits were escorted by elves down to a table laden with fruit and clear drink. Meneciriel, Elladan, Elrohir, Fanelen, and Thule were already seated.

"Good morning, my friends," Ciri said, smiling. "I trust you slept peacefully."

The hobbits replied that they had, sat down, and set at the breakfast with good will.

"Miss Ciri?" Brando piped up curiously. "Not that I am not enjoying your hospitality here at Rivendell, but when are we going to set out for the King's Council?"

"Why, tomorrow, my good hobbit. That is what I had intended to tell you. This breakfast may be the only time today that we will have to sit and rest - there is much to be done today."

Cuthalion

10-26-2002, 05:40 PM

Durgan allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, inwardly mortified. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of Stonehelm, he had let himself down as well. Nodding to Bram, he retreated to the port side of the deck and gazed longingly at dry, solid land.

Never before had he felt quite so incompetent or so clumsy. Always before he had been in complete control and this queasy feeling had taken him by surprise. Sucking in great lungfuls of clean air, he finally felt stable enough to approach the others.

He walked over to Stonehelm and drawing him aside, he said, Forgive me. I did not mean to appear so weak before these Men and Elves. Tell me now what you would have me do once we arrive in the South. I feel useless here, my King. He stroked his beard in frustration. To my way of thinking, Dwarves were never meant for sailing, it just isn't natural.

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

Shadow_Staar

10-26-2002, 08:06 PM

Mikhelm paced his room, he was very upset. He did not want to travel with the elves, he did not want to see the elves, he wanted nothing to do with the elves.
He heaved a sigh and got to work on packing his few things. He soon finished and walked out into the hall and bumped into one of the elves.
"Sor-" Mikhelm stopped when he noticed it was and elf and growled.
"No apologies, noble dwarf?" The female elf asked.
"Why should I apologize? It's you who ran into me." He growled.
"I fear you are wrong there, it is you who ran into me." She replied.
He growled again when he knew she was right.
"No need to growl. But I have to leave, but before I go, what's your name?"
"Why do you care?" The dwarf asked.
"I like to know who I travel with." She smiled.
"Mikhelm."
"And I am Ciri."

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

Adanedhel

10-26-2002, 09:54 PM

****Dale - Rira****

Rira hid his amusement well at the Dwarf's blunder but quickly regained his composure and just as the mess was finally cleaned up he waved the crew to follow him up the stone path cut out towards his house which lay nearly hidden away above on the hill top not far away.
Rira turned to Bram as they walked and asked casually:

'How was the river on the voyage here? The mighty Anduin can be a cruel mistress if she so fancies it'

Rira said keeping his eyes on the track ahead as it slowly moved up hill. He moved with long strides and as he was used to walking back and forth along the slightly steep path he was used to the climb but he could hear some of the Men huffing and puffing from behind at the back of the group.

'The voyage was quite good, we encountered no problems but we are still glad for you to be captianing us the rest of the way'

Bram huffed out between breaths, Rira looked behind for a fleeting second at Bram then said:

'As am I, I haven't captained a boat for a long time'

He looked down for a moment remembering the last voyage he had ended in the loss of his crew after being smashed on rocks near the mouth of the Anduin.
After about half an hours climb they made it to the steps of the house. It wasn't anything spectactular but was cosy and welcoming, the large thatch roof and a chimney poking out the top and smoke trailed out of it with a tinge of meat coooking. It was a home. It stood atop the hill and large windows looked over the river and the dock itself.
Rira turned and smiled to the slightly puffed out group, with the exception of the stout Dwarves and the very fleet Elves, and said with pride.

'This is my humble abode. All are welcome to drink, eat and talk of stories and times long gone'

The group stood uncertainly, not knowing what to do next. Rira chuckled, sniffed the air and said.

'Enter! My lovely wife Polgara seems to be preparing us a lovely meal, she will attend to your needs, for now i need to feed and tend the horses, i will join you later for dinner!'

With a grin Rira opened the door and let the crew in, yelling in to his wife.

'Polgara! Feed and water these fine guests of ours!'

Without another look Rira moved off around the house towards the stables, leaving the crew in the care of his wife....

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Isilya

10-27-2002, 07:58 AM

******EREN LASGALEN******

Isilya lay in a cabin, sleeping. Her strength was slowly returning to her, but she did not dare venture on board. Nefros came down at least once every two hours. They had spent a numerous amount of time talking, mainly about what had happened after they had departed. Nefros was disappointed that Lord Lanothir and Thoron did not come. Even though he had already thanked them, he still felt that he needed to express his gratitude on a larger scale. Isilya, though she thoroughly and completely trusted Thoron, was still uneasy about Lanothir. He had never told her what his business was, and not once did he open the packs in her presence. She found this suspicious, but did not say anything to her brother, yet.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Isilya ]

*Varda*

10-27-2002, 01:34 PM

***Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains***

The day passed uneventfully, with much scurrying to and fro between rooms, trying to decide who would pack what, what was unnecessary, and how much food to carry along with them.

Serin packed his belongings quickly, noticing Mikhelm talking to the elf Ciri. Well, at least he’s making some attempt to be polite, Serin thought optimistically. Perhaps the journey would be better than he had originally thought. Tense silences and strained conversation would not make for a good journey to Minas Anor.

Brando popped his head round the door a moment later.

“Serin, would you mind coming down the kitchen to help Orlo and I? Only we have a lot of people to provide for, and well, we’re not entirely sure about how much dwarves eat…” Serin laughed, and walked down to the kitchens with Brando. Outside he saw Theron and Hardo smoking thoughtfully, with their smoke rings floating up into the cloudy sky. The weather didn’t look altogether pleasing for the start of their journey, but they had to start the next day to make it to Minas Anor in time.

Now down in the kitchens, Serin helped the hobbits to judge how much food to take, and pack it. By the time this job was over, the sky was growing dark, as the hobbits had had much argument over the amount of food they could take. Serin had had to persuade them to take a little less food than they had originally decided, and the hobbits were crestfallen to hear that they could not possibly have six meals a day while on the road south.

So once this lengthy job was completed, the hobbits and Serin retired to their beds for the night, and the next morning dawned bright and clear…

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

The Barrow-Wight

10-27-2002, 02:54 PM

* * * * * Rhûn Nation * * * * *

The group made it safely to Vakuf that evening and was given shelter by the mayor who was alarmed at the tale of attack and slaughter they told him. The next morning he gave them fresh mounts and provisions, and they were quickly on their way westward. Ninos’ group of foot soldiers remained behind in the village to help garrison its walls until he could return in force to deal with the were-bears.

On the road, Kasteni, Lovek and Ulwyte, along with the eight remaining horse soldiers of Ozvalda, rode with Ninos and his horsemen. They traveled safely for three days as the land slowly changed from open, rolling grassland to thickly forested hills. Ninos held the last kingdom of Ozren before the Aranaw Forest, which formed a natural border between him and the Sea of Rhûn. At the eastern edge of the forest was the ancient walled fortress of Maoca, which had been originally built by the men of Stoneland. Now the great keep and walled town served as the chief city of Ninos land.

On the fourth day, they arrived at the stony town, and Ninos held a celebration of his successful return to his throne, but it was tempered by the mourning for his dead soldiers and those slain at the roadside fortresses. His mood was equally somber the next morning as he watched Kasteni ride westward on his long journey to Gondor. He had wished him well, but had provided no men or aid other than food and water. His people were already gathering a large force to ride eastward and secure the ravaged hostels.

As the sun rose on the seventh day of their journey, Kasteni wondered how they had come so short a distance in so long a time. Forces were acting against his journey that he could not control, and the one week seemed more like a month. His only hope now was that he could find quick passage across the Sea and come soon to the great Dagorlad Highway. There, it was said, the Stoneland King was already providing protection of sort from monstrous attacks and waylaying vagabonds.

He turned to his two companions and said, “We did not have the proper time to mourn the loss of Khuleln, and yet we already miss the comfort of his presence. He died in the service of Mislavini. A great way to die that will ensure the future of his family. I beseech the Eye that we do not all make that same sacrifice on this journey.”

With that, they rode quickly along the rode through the Aranaw Forest, hoping to come to its further side and the seaport of Rufalas. That large city of fishers and sailors would be their next destination.

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: The Barrow-Wight ]

VanimaEdhel

10-27-2002, 06:17 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

Lovek listened absentmindedly. He could not believe that men in his company had been lost. He had not lost many men in his battles, and he always considered it a fault of his when he did so.

Now, he was also left with only Kasteni and the upstart, Ulwyte. So far, Ulwyte had been unusually quiet.

Lovek looked over to Ulwyte, and saw him sitting, staring straight ahead. There was a glimmer of what looked like fear in Ulwyte's face.

Fear after only this? What will happen to him once we are in enemy territory? The lands of the West are not even as friendly to us as the were-bears were, Lovek thought, bitterly.

**********

That night, as they stopped to make camp, still in the forest, Lovek sat by the fire, alert. He and another guard were to remain awake and guard, just in case foul creatures were abroad.

Lovek heard a noise in the woods. The guard turned to him, fear in his face.

"Shall we...?" mouthed the frightened guard. Lovek knew very well what he meant.

"Of course! Do not act as a cowardly Westlander!" Lovek snapped in a whisper. He indicated that the guard should check one side of the path and he would check the other.

**********

Lovek kept his guard up as he searched. Just as he was about to turn back to the group, he heard a noise behind him. He spun, drawing his sword and holding it to the creature that was now behind him. Lovek looked at the being and spat.

"An Elf!" he said, distastefully.

In a beat, the Elf pulled a dagger and held it to Lovek's throat. The two stood, blades at each other's throat, looking at each other through despising eyes. The Elf had dark hair and grey eyes and stood about 6'2" in height.

The two stood, neither daring to make a sound, waiting for the other to make a move. Suddenly, the Elf found another blade pointed at him. The guard had crossed over and now stood next to Lovek, holding his blade to the Elf's throat as well.

**********

A few hours later, all of the men stood around and the Elf sat, bound with rope and within sight.

"What do you propose we do with him?" one of the guards asked.

"I say," Lovek began, "That we bring him with us to the gathering. We can complain of such foul beings wandering and explain that it is dangerous to us, for this Elf would have killed me, had I not had such keen hearing!"

"Calm, Lovek," Kasteni warned, "We do not want to begin a war we cannot finish."

"And why can we not?" Lovek said, growing more and more passionate, "We can defeat them!"

"All of the East?" Ulwyte said, dubiously.

"You show such fear!" Lovek said, accusingly, "You are not fit for this mission, Ulwyte! You are afraid of everything! And you are untrained. You are too young for such things! You should not have come along! And you have no business questioning me, you ignorant footsoldier!"

"Lovek!" Kasteni warned, but it was too late, for Ulwyte had already sprung at Lovek. The two wrestled each other to the ground.

"Grab them!" Kasteni commanded the guards. The guards grabbed the grappling men and pulled them apart.

"Let me go," Lovek said, in a forced, calm tone. When the guards did not respond immediately, he jerked away from their grasps and stood before Ulwyte, looking at him challengingly.

"Care to try again?" Lovek asked, tauntingly.

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

Belin

10-28-2002, 08:03 PM

*****Rivendell*****

Elladan was humming softly as the wide gates opened to let them out. How could anyone help but be merry as they rode out into the sunlight on a journey that he suddenly felt could only be for the best? Carelessly, he fit a few words to the tune in his mind.

"The sun was bright, the moon was pale, as we rode forth from the vale," he sang.

He'd be sworn to it that even that Mikhelm looked a little cheerier, now that he was riding beyond the walls of the Elven city. The idea that any residue of the dwarf's displeasure was certain to be turned toward any song-inspired dweller of Rivendell was one he was in a mood to shrug off. Serin was his friend, or would be, and the hobbits were delightful, after the way of their kind, and certainly all would be well, as why indeed shouldn't it? He grinned merrily at the eldest of the hobbits, whose scowl was at the moment more a matter of stubbornness than of any true irritation. Brando had even joined into Elladan's song.

So, they were off. The mysterious Thule, late as usual (an unfortunate trait in a guide, but one Elladan supposed he could do nothing about)rode up behind them just as they left the city.

"Stop!" she cried.

They turned and looked at her. Elrohir, less flighty than his brother and therefore in a less bouyant mood (for which reason Elladan's survey of the company had more or less ignored him), raised a questioning eyebrow at her. Elladan, whose eye caught a tiny, lonely figure looking outward from the city, gave a soft sigh and continued to hum meditatively as the guide began, longwindedly, to introduce herself. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a trace of Fanelen's movement, more restless than that of her horse...

Celebmornie

10-28-2002, 08:20 PM

***Rivendell***
Thule joins the groupe and smiles.
"Hello! I am Thule! I can get you anywhere you need to go. Just please dont nagg me about our direction! I might be taking the long way around somethings but I have my reasons for it. Well we best be off!"
She smiles and urges her horse to start moving.

Elenna

10-29-2002, 11:17 AM

Ciri rolled her eyes in annoyance. Perhaps bringing this guide along was not the wisest of decisions. She nudged her horse forward, coming up next to Thule.

"Are you planning on being late to a battle too? Will you be somewhere else when all of us need you?"

Thule blushed and ducked her head, but Ciri assumed she had received the point.

Ringwraith Number Two

10-29-2002, 01:57 PM

******The Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains******

Orlo munched an apple nonchalantly as they continued travelling. He was getting used to this: meeting new people, adapting to new places...Wanting to talk to Elladan, he overtook Brando, giving him a brotherly sort of pat on the head.

"Good morning," he said brightly. "That was a merry song you sang this morning. Was it one you already knew, or did you make it up on the spot?"

Elladan smiled. "I just put a few words to a tune I already knew."

Orlo whistled approvingly. "Bilbo Baggins used to do that. Wish I could. My family always said I sounded worse than a yowling cat. Thats the kind of encouragement I received in my younger days." Orlo said "younger days" in the manner of an experienced hobbit. Elladan smiled secretly.

Orlo lowered his voice. "Looks like we've got no need for alliances yet!" he said happily.

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

Rose Cotton

10-29-2002, 04:14 PM

^^^^^^^^Lonely Mountain^^^^^^^^

It had been his first time on a ship. At first he hadn't trusted his legs to walk around the deck but once Hringa got used to the swaying of the water he found himself enjoying the ride.

So when they stopped Hringa was eager to get going. He told Stonehelm this and the king laughed and said, "Well you should take that up with our captain. We do need to be on our way again soon."

As the others ate Hringa forgot his appitite and went in search of Rira. He found the captin at the stables. "Um..sir."

Rira looked up. "Yes. What is it? Aren't you hungry."

"Yes. Very much so but I was wondering when we would get back on the river. We do have a scedule to keep"

piosenniel

10-29-2002, 09:17 PM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Bram chuckled when he heard the comment made by Hringa. Trust a Dwarf to be concerned with schedules and timetables! He stuffed another slice of dilled river trout in his mouth, washed it down with a sip of fine Dorwinion wine, and went over to talk to Rira.

'I think the Dwarf is right, Captain. It's a fine spread your wife has laid out for us, but we really do need to be in Minas Anor on Mettarë or just a little before. Let us wind up this fine meal, and meet back on the ship.'

Bram walked over to Hringa, who stood talking quietly to Stonehelm, and clapped him on his back. 'A fine taskmaster you have here, Stonehelm. One to keep us on our toes and bound for Gondor in a timely fashion!' He set down his goblet on the small table next to him, and winked at Hringa. 'What say you gather the Dwarves together, and I will gather the Elves and Dalesmen. We will board the ship this evening and by the morrow, with a good wind at our backs, we can be in the area of Lothlorien. I have need of the counsel of the remaining Elves, there. If you wish, the companions can visit the once great realm of the Lady of the Woods.'

Hringa looked at Bram in wonder. He had heard of Galadriel, but never thought to see the realm where she once ruled. The Dwarf wondered if it would be empty without her, now that she had passed over the Sea with the ring bearers.

The companions had been gathered together, and all bowed and thanked Rira's wife for the chance to enjoy such a pleasant meal. She accompanied them down to the dock and watched them as they set sail for the south. They could see her, on the dock, waving her white apron in the fading light of evening. Then they rounded a bend in the river and she was lost to sight.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Adanedhel

10-30-2002, 12:45 AM

****DALE - Rira****

Captain Rira was happy to be on a boat again sailing down the Anduin, feeling the breeze in his hair and barking orders to the crew mates running the ship as well as they could.
He watched the crew as they went about their various tasks and Rira was fairly impressed with their efficiency and speed at which they did their jobs, and just as impressed with the Elves in the crow's nest whose magnificant sight was a blessing to any Captain.

'First Mate Bram!'

Rira yelled, standing at the cabin wheel,

'Make ready to cut the sails!'

Rira stood, legs slightly apart both hands on the cabin wheel listening as Bram relayed the message onto the crew of the ship. As he gazed ahead he instinctively looked up to the crow's nest and made sure that the look out was still there.
He pulled his attention away from the crow's nest as Bram came up to him and stood next to him, Rira looked over and said;

'We're moving at a steady rate, maybe too fast for this river. Cutting the sails will slow us down a knot or too but still keep us going at a fast enough rate on the current'

Bram nodded knowingly with a thoughtful look on his face, Rira smiled and said.

'Don't worry too much about not getting there on time, i have been sailing up and down this river nearly all my life and can get you there as fast as you want. The only problem is the portage we need to do before the falls of Rauros'

Rira paused for a moment and stared ahead of the boat willing himself to see any hidden dangers ahead.

'We will make a short stop over in Lorien, though i am not sure if we can stay long, maybe a day and a half at the most'

He still looked ahead eyes firmly fixed on the river beyond the bow and his calloused hands firmly on the cabin wheel, guiding the ship down the river....

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Nevtalathiel

10-30-2002, 12:16 PM

* * * DALE-Girion * * *

Slowing down? Girion cursed silently, still trying not to irritate either the first mate or the captain. He didn't want to be slowing down. To put it bluntly, he did not want to be on the boat at all; he would rather have walked and been late. Swallowing hard, he tried to think of the reasons he was here; his father, his people, the kingdom which would one day be his. He just managed to overcome his urge to throw himself over the side and swim to Minas Anor and tried to plan what he would say to King Elessar when they finally arrived, hoping that if he focused on his task, he might not hit anyone. Thankfully, no diplomatic relations were harmed by his meeting with the High King, and he knew exactly not what to say or do when they did meet.

piosenniel

10-30-2002, 01:56 PM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Bram watched Girion fight with himself. 'I wonder if he knows how much like his father he is? Probably not, Bard never thought he matched up to his father's expectations when he was younger. But he grew into them, and made them his own.' He chuckled at his memories of a much younger Bard, eyes blazing at some perceived insult, his diplomacy meted out by his clenched fists. Bram rubbed the bridge of his nose absently, a small irregular bump there, where Bram's sharp, unschooled tongue had met with Bard's 'diplomacy'.

He thought for a moment, then walked toward Girion, and stood before him, hands behind his back. 'I've come to make amends for my behavior toward you.' he said, offering his hand to the young man. He looked the Girion in the eyes and smiled. 'You are much as I remember your father.' he said, eyes sparkling. 'I knew him then, back when we both were younger.'

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Celebmornie

10-30-2002, 04:02 PM

**Rivendell**
Thule felt bad that she was late and had a feeling that no one was gonna let her forget she was. So she just rode ahead following the path planed out in her head.

*Varda*

10-30-2002, 04:18 PM

***Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains***

Serin glanced back at Thule, wondering why they had chosen her as a guide. Constantly late, not very sociable...it didn't help that they were now attempting to cross the Misty Mountains with the rain beating down around them. No hope of good weather for some time.

The hobbits huddled close the mountain face, to keep a little dryer. The horses plodded along, and thunder rumbled overhead. Lightning flashed, and after continuing for another hour or two, Ciri demanded a halt, as everyone was beginning to look soggy and bedraggled, and all in all, not very happy.

"We must find somewhere to shelter," she called out. "We cannot hope to continue travelling on a narrow path in weather like this!" Brando was reminded curiously of Bilbo's previous expedition over the Mountains, and shivered uneasily. He voiced his concern to Elladan, who laughed and reassured him.

"Don't worry about it, all the goblins were cleared out some time ago. There should be no real danger, none we can't protect ourselves against at any rate." Feeling better, Brando continued on, until they found a small cave.

Serin too remembering Bilbo's tale, made very sure to check the back of the cave thoroughly. Convinced there was no chance of danger, the group lit a fire, and sat down for a brief meal until the storm was over. The hobbits now had no worries whatsoever, knowing at least that their stomachs would be full.

Bêthberry

10-30-2002, 07:34 PM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

Stonehelm, on the top bunk, and Hringa, on the bottom bunk, could no longer ignore the sunlight pouring through the tiny porthole; it not only made the dust particles dance, but it beat in on their eyelids. Stonehelm had been surprised by how comfortable it felt under deck, buried in the small room. The room lacked the solid, heavy, secure feel of carved mountain halls, but it was surprisingly cozy.

Stonehelm jumped down onto the floor--a bit of a jump for a dwarf but nothing too great. He washed his face and hands in the small sink, dressed, roused Hringa, and walked out to pick up the others. Frain and Durgan had beaten him up and were there in the small hallway ahead of him.

The four pounded on Girion and Rubin's cabin door. C'mon you lollilagers. There's potatoes to peel. Muffled murmmers told that the Men from Dale were just rising. Crise of We'll meet you topside. Come get some fresh air[/b] were met with a few choice comments. Frain and Durgan cackled.

[i]Let's get on topside announced Stonehelm who privately wished for an opportunity to talk with Orodan and Girion about the audience with Elessar. Secretly he didn't want this river traffic to run smoothly, for such a trade route would shut Erebor out and make her goods less marketable. But he wasn't going to tell them that.

Reaching the deck, the dwarves met the elves, who had slept topside and the entire group sought out the kitchen for a hearty breakfast.

Stonehelm observed that the voyage and the various harms that had befallen them had broken down the barriers between the three groups. Good, he thought. Let's face Elessar with a strong united front. He left the kitchen, seeking out this Rira fellow. Stonehelm wanted to know how reliable the river was for transport and for logging timber. Maybe between Bram and Rira he could figure out a straight answer.

Just as Stonehelm was about to climb the stairs to the captain's cabin, a large swell rocked the ship and he was thrown against the wall, bruising his arm. Well, thought Stonehelm to himself, , it isn't as bad as being under a rockfall.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

10-30-2002, 09:42 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - Gramil ****

Gramil shook his head, smiling at the thought of the king as his booming voice disappeared down the hallway. He rubbed his shoulder where King Fuinur had heartily pounded it on his way out the door. 'As friendly as a puppy,' Gramil thought, 'And twice the trouble! No doubt Seth has his hands full in this playground.'

For so this port would seem to the untethered boistrous King, released from the daily grind of ruling his kingdom.

Of course, King Fuinur could find action in an empty field of coffee beans. And had, Gramil recalled, grateful their parents had never found them out. King Fuinur's father had been a forgiving man, indulgent with his son, prone to saying 'boys will be boys - the rascals!' ruffling Fuinur's hair. Gramil's father was more firm, and never had Gramil racked up more nights without dinner than when Fuinur visited their plantation. Trouble was, he could make the worst ideas sound like a grand adventure. Like the time Fuinur had talked him into trying out that catapult.

"It'll be just like flying! You first! Then I'll go." Fuinur had said eagerly. Fuinur had been disappointed with the lack of distance they'd achieved. Gramil hadn't even cleared the coffee fences, let alone made it to the haystack. By the time Fuinur picked Gramil off the ground and they'd pushed the coffee fences back - sort of - into place, Fuinur had a masterful plan to use a donkey to pull the catapult back further, to get a higher trajectory. But Gramil wasn't willing to give it a second go, to Fuinur's vast disappointment.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

piosenniel

10-30-2002, 09:53 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl sat in the back booth at the King's Inn drawing spirals with his finger on the dark, stained surface of the table. The wood was rough, and worn from the untold number of travellers who had sat here, faced with the same problem. A town he didn't know, no known contacts, and short on funds.

For one wild, brief moment he considered the man who sat, neatly dressed, sipping some small neat drink at the bar. There was sure to be a fat purse concealed beneath his vest, or perhaps tucked into the waistband of his pants. His fingers twitched and he rubbed his palms together in anticipation of the transaction. A small bump against the target, the quick dip, and off he'd go, leaving the pigeon a little lighter for the encounter, and none the wiser.

He caught sight of himself in the puddle of water he had carefully poured on the table. He laughed ruefully and shook his head. 'That was a long, long time ago, Jarl. Look at you. You're older, slower, and too easily recognized.' He laughed and sat back in the booth, watching the patrons come and go.

The door swung open. Letting in the last of the late afternoon sun. An imposing man, a Southron, walked in and looked slowly about the room. The sort of man who could walk into any room and command it as easily as he drew breath. 'An interesting man.' thought Jarl, as he sized him up.

The man's dark eyes fell on Jarl, and he made his way over to the table.

Adanedhel

10-31-2002, 02:17 AM

As the morning sun rose Rira stood topside already smoking his pipe and puffing long, grey circles into the air, he peered out ahead of the boat then moving back to the cabin wheel and took hold of it his hands loosely steering the ship as though it was an extention of his body.
As the occupants of the ship rose for breakfast the Captain was surprised at how well the different races on the ship seemed to get along as though there were no barriers. This made the him think as they must have been through some tough and certainly testing times for them to break down such barriers.

He shrugged and let the thought slip from his mind as two of the Men from Dale came topside and he watched with curiosty as one seemed to hold himself as though he was someone very important or great, Rira stroked the stubble on his chin and the long scar that ran along his cheek from a Corsair's dagger. As he ran his index finger along the reddish and raised scar he thought 'A Corsair that never returned home'

Rira stopped stroking the scar and turned his eyes back to the river, he watched the currents and from memory judged the width and depth of the river ahead, with these thoughts he yelled out to Bram:

'First Mate Bram! Full sails! We have a deep section of the river ahead and wish to take advantage of the fact'

Rira listened with smile as Bram relayed the message perfectly and Men and Elves ran to perform the task, climbing rigging and untying ropes. He looked up at the clear azzure sky and tried to judge how long the wind would last.

'Hmmmm, a few hours at the most'

He said stroking his chin, then he heard.

'What would?'

The Captain turned hiding his surprisement to see Bram standing next to him watching the crew carry out the tasks given not 30 seconds ago by the Captain, he took the pipe from his mouth and said.

'The wind. With this wind we may even get to Lorien quicker than i thought'

He still looked at the sky trying to decipher if any bad weather was coming, and to his dissapointment he saw to the west he saw dark clouds just above the tree tops, he puffed three times in quick sucession on his pipe a frown creasing his brow.

'We have a storm coming, maybe in the next day or so. It looks like it could cause trouble so i want everything tied down, including anything in the cabins themselves, this river is dangerous in bad weather and i don't want to risk lives or equipment'

He looked over at Bram, who was nodding slightly and stroking an irregular bump on his nose.

'See that it's done by dusk today'

The Captain said sweeping his eyes over the deck and locating all the people on the deck and what they were doing. He saw two Elves and a Dwarf sitting on boxes and talking idle chatter near the anchor release and a Man from Dale dealing cards to a group consisting of Elves and Dwarves.
Rira turned to Bram and asked.

'I have been watching your crew and I have noticed that they all get along very well....'

He puffed on his pipe twice and blew two dark rings into the air, watching them disappear into the air.

'How was is that such a diverse group can get along without fighting or arguements between them?

[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Tharkûn

10-31-2002, 05:52 AM

*****DALE-Garlin*****

As the four men limped from the scene of the battle (thanks to Ethar's wounded leg), they realized that the only way they could understand each other was through Ethar, who only knew a small amount of Nurnian, which was very frustrating to all of them. After a while, they decided that it was time to camp, judging by the fact that the sun was setting. After some time, the to men of Nurn decided it would also be a good idea for a watch to be kept. And so, when Jarl and Gramil walked into the firelight, they saw Garlin lying on the ground beside Ethar, and the two Nurnish circling the camp.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Tharkûn ]

Child of the 7th Age

10-31-2002, 08:15 AM

Harad/Umbar

Urken looked the man up and down. His contact in Harad had apprised him of Jarl's interests and activities. The man was a trader, but his influence went far beyond that sphere. He'd heard the man had a nose for political intrigue and a respect for those who dealt in such things.

Urken seated himself at the table and introduced himself. Then he explained, "I am travelling now with King Fuinur. I believe you have some acquaintance with one of his retainers, a gentleman by the name of Gramil who is a master of trade and in other matters as well."

Jarl nodded his head to indicate his general assent, but like the wise man that he was, refused to give any further indication of his mission or companions.

Urken was not so circumspect. "I will be blunt. I believe that we may be of some help to each other. We plan to leave tomorrow to sail towards Minas Anor which lies just two days from here. We have two seaworthy vessels with plenty of room for passengers. I have an invitation to meet with Elessar, and I believe you may find that to your liking. I will not go into the details at this time. Only know that I will give you my confidence in the course of this voyage and upon our entry to the city."

"And who shall come on this voyage which you propose?" Jarl countered.

"My invitation is open to you and any of your friends with whom you travel. But I will be blunt one more time. Among your travelling retinue, there is one other whom I wish to meet. I believe he goes by the name Al-gareth, and is acompanied by another named Al-Hafez. I am most anxious to meet these gentlemen."

Jarl narrowed his eyes and retorted, "And this anxiety you speak of, from where does it come."

"I will not speak of that here. But I give you my word of honor that I will share these things more fully once we are in a less public arena." Urken turned and glanced around the Inn, as if he expected to see something which he feared.

At that moment, however, he broke into a smile. King Fuinur was advancing towards the table. He introduced Jarl to the King, and explained that they had travelled together. The three men spent some time sharing small confidences with each other.

At the end of the evening, Jarl saluted them in farewell, and indicated he would come to the docks tomorrow if he decided to take them up on their offer. After he left, Urken turned to Fuinur, "I believe that we need to speak with each other concerning a number of business matters. Please go ahead with your thoughts and concerns. Though I must also say, you have acquired quite a reputation in this city as one who appreciates the finer things of life, shall we say."

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Nevtalathiel

10-31-2002, 10:00 AM

* * * DALE - Girion * * *

Girion was taken aback. Of all the things he had imagined Bram to say, this was not one of them. He had imagined aguments, fights, shouting, but reconciliation was not among the diplomatic tools he was used to.

Gingerly, he reached out a hand to the one Bram offered. Gently, they shook hands and Girion found himself smiling, despite the newness of a situation. He found that this was more satisfying than hitting someone; now he knew he had an ally, instead of a fearful enemy and suddenly he felt guilty that he had hated Bram so vehemently and for so long. If only he had spoken to him at the beginning of their journey instead of ignoring and snubbing him, he might have been able to learn a lot from this man. Even now, he felt somehow that he would be letting himself down by admitting that he had been wrong. He was not yet sure enough of himself to ask for help, especially not from someone like Bram, who he believed already thought of him as weak.

"Forgive me for having been so rude to you Bram. I am not used to being ordered around and it is not something I enjoy. I will give your regards to my father when I return, but please excuse me, I must get on with my work."

Hastily, he turned and went below deck, hoping to find some food to help prepare, a task he found he enjoyed. In the darkness of the kitchen, no one noticed Girion's bright blush, though he was so disracted, he cut his fingers several times.

Cuthalion

10-31-2002, 11:14 AM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mountain^^^^^^

After having had a bad night wherein he had dreamed that he had been sent packing back to the lonely Mountain, Durgan rose queasily from his hammcok and climbed the ladder up on deck. As his head emerged from the hatch, he dodged a flying bucket as the ship lurched, rolling in the rising swells. Grabbing more tightly onto the rail, he heaved himself up on deck, glowering at the clouds gathering overhead. "No breakfast again!" he groaned as his stomach roiled.

(will finish this post later...)

Nevtalathiel

10-31-2002, 02:04 PM

*****DALE - Girion*****

Girion had calmed down over breakfast. He had been allowed time to think things over a little and a few quiet words with Rubin as his fingers were bandaged had improved his mood and restored the majority of his confidence. Now, let off the washing up because of his bandaged but only superficially damaged fingers, he was up on deck, enjoying the fresh air for the first time since he had boarded the boat.

The wind was brisker than ever and the sail was being whipped at the edges. Above the small vessel, clouds of a particularly malicious shade of grey were massing, no doubt preparing an attack for the travellers.

Girion felt himself instinctively reaching for the pocket where normally he kept a meagre supply of pipeweed. It would be nice to sit in a tavern and have a drink, a smoke and a game of cards, with no pressure to get on well with everyone. It had been a long time since he had been able to sit and have a drink, or several, play a few rounds of cards, lose or win a little money; he had never minded, since money was never a problem, and enjoy a smoke. His father seemed to dislike such habits, and it was true that Girion had been involved in his share of brawls, mostly as the orchestrator; for someone for whom money was never a problem, he cared over much about cheating.

For the moment though, Girion's pocket was empty and the nearest inn could have been a thousand leagues away for all he knew. As he withdrew his hand from his pocket, he thought of something else. He raced down to his cabin just as everyone else was finishing the washing up and trying to get up the stairs. Orodan whirled gracefully out of the way, maintaining his balance on the stairs despite Girion and a sudden lurch from the boat, but some of the dwarves were not as lucky. Durgan looked particularly disgruntled as he was knocked to the ground by Girion speeding past, but at that point, Girion did not care.

In his cabin, he began rifling through his belongings, searching for a small ebony box. As soon as he had found it, he turned and ran out, vaulting up the stairs and knocking over the still recovering Durgan. Once he was out on the deck, he held the small box aloft proudly and called out, only a little out of breath,

"Anyone for a game of chance?"

piosenniel

10-31-2002, 02:47 PM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Bram spluttered at the Captain's question. 'New eyes see new things!' he thought to himself. He looked about at the crew, taking their leisure now, assigned duties done. Amazing! There did seem to be a certain sense of camaraderie which had sprung up among them. Nothing like a few disasters and tight quarters to force issues one way or the other. 'Lucky for us,' he murmured to himself, 'we seem bound in a more positive direction.'

'Well, Captain, I think this crew has weathered a few storms in its time, and from what I can gather, the problems they've come through have pulled them together instead of pushing them apart.' He went on to tell Rira of the encounter with the giant spiders of Mirkwood, the abduction of Isilya, the loss of the horses, the loss of the large wagon and subsequently the loss of most of the Dwarven wares. Yet they had to be admired. They had pulled together and gone on.

'Their last encounter was possibly their worst.' he chuckled. 'At least in many of their opinions.'

'And what was that?' asked Rira, hands on the helm. 'Something truly horrific, you say?'

'It was the unfortunate business of obtaining the ship.' he answered, eyes twinkling. 'And finding out just what went with it.'

Rira turned to him, a questioning frown on his face.

'Just me!' he said, laughing now. 'I came with the ship, and I'll be by their side til I see them delivered safe into the hands of Elessar.'

He asked to take leave of the Captain, saying that he would see that all was secured above and below deck for the coming storm. He made a mental note to himself: Best show these 'sailors' how to batten the hatches before the storm is upon us.

Once done, he walked over to where Girion was playing a friendly game of cards with Orodan, Frain, and Hringa. He stood, hands in pockets, and watched for a while, his eyes taking in every player.

At a break in the game, he asked them, in a casual manner, 'Do you think an old guy could sit in for a hand or so? Looks like an interesting game.' Girion motioned for him to pull up a crate, and dealt him out some cards. 'Hmmmm!' he murmured, a frown on his face as he arranged the cards in his hand. He looked round at the faces of his fellow players.

'Gentlemen,' he said softly, placing a half-penny on the table in front of him, 'anyone care to place a small wager on the game?'

Adanedhel

10-31-2002, 02:51 PM

****Dale - Rira****

Captain Rira watched Bram wander down to the card game and begin playing, flicking a half-penny onto the the table in front of him and saying something to the players around him. Rira smiled as he realised that Bram was most likely a very good card player and was going to lose the first few games followed by some very handy and purse enlarging wins nearer to the end.
He smiled to himself and puffed again on his pipe, this time sending 5 perfect circles into the air, he watched them evaporate near the billowing sails then returned his gaze to the river ahead.

As Rira steered the boat down the river he kept glancing up to the sky and watched the massing grey clouds coming together over the sky above, blocking out the azzure sky.

'This is going to be a nasty storm'

The Captain thought aloud, eyebrows curled down in a frown and creases on his forehead like small channels

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Kettle of fish

11-01-2002, 02:27 AM

***** Dale-Rubin *****

Rubin gave a wry grin as he saw Girion deftly deal the cards. Obviously the cuts to his fingers had done no damage to his card playing skills. Now, if only he was as passionate about chance as he was about being king of Dale...

Rubin unconsciously rubbed the place where he had cracked a rib last year, fighting through a tangle of fists and legs to drag Girion away from that particular card game brawl. Trust Girion to have accused a player who was twice his weight backed by a few fellows who were willing to 'demonstrate' their pal's honesty with their fists.

He sighed as he turned around. Like his father had said, even kings need their fun.

piosenniel

11-01-2002, 03:42 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Bram sat hunched over his cards, a perplexed look on his face. He had lost the first three hands, won a small pot, on the fourth then lost the next two. And now with the expression he wore on his face, it appeared that luck had deserted him once again.

Orodan had begged off the game, saying he wished to see Nephros about a matter. Girion was dealing, and asked Bram, for the second time, how many cards he wanted. Of his seven cards, Bram kept three and asked for four. His expression did not improve as he placed them, one by one, into his hand, and fanned them out evenly. He sighed and put a half-penny out on the table. Hringa called and raised him two pennies. The bet was called by Girion. Frain, eyed his hand closely, and raised the stakes with a silver penny. Hringa folded, laying his cards face down, and sat back to watch the hand play out. Bram met the bet, after much consideration, and Girion, looking at his cards a last time raised the stakes again, to three silver pennies. Frain met this bet, as did Bram. Girion laid down his hand, four of a kind - kings. Frain threw down his cards in disgust, a full house, aces over queens

Bram's eyes widened and he shook his head slowly. Girion, laughing, reached for the pot, to pull it to him. His hand was stayed by the light touch of Bram's hand on his arm.

Bram laid his cards on the table, and fanned them slowly out 7,8,9,10, jack, of hearts. The other players stared at him in disbelief as he gathered the money to him, arranging the coins in neat piles. A tidy sum!

The deal had passed to him, and he was just shuffling the cards, when the first fat drops of rain hit the deck. The wind had picked up, too, and the distant sound of thunder boded ill for travel on the river.

Bram put the monies into his breeches pocket, while Girion stowed away the cards. 'Batten down the hatches!' came the call from Bram, and several teams of dwarves and Elves secured the covers over the hatches.

Rira dropped anchor, the sails were furled, and the crew and captain went below to ride out the storm.

Girion sat opposite Bram at the table in the galley, watching him drink a mug of tea. 'You didn't somehow call up that storm to bring an end to our game at a fortuitous moment, did you?' he asked him, half in jest, half in earnest.

Bram laughed at the idea. 'It was simply concidence. I have only some small skill with cards, and none with the raising of storms!' Thunder echoed through the hull, and the bright flash of near lightning, shone through the thick glass of the galley's porthole.

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel

11-01-2002, 04:13 AM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl walked slowly back to his room. He wanted badly to go to be in Minas Anor for the meeting with the King. But something was up here, that he could not quite make out. Why was Urken so interested in Al-Gareth? And what were these 'details' he had offered to reveal during the voyage.

He entered the suite and sat in a chair by the window. His fingers were steepled, and the tips of his index fingers tapped lightly on his lips as he sat and thought about his next move.

Gramil had come in, and Jarl called to him. 'I ran into a very intresting person today, or rather I should say, he made it his business to run into me. Urken, he called himself.' Jarl rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'He made a very interesting proposition to me. he made it clear that it would be mutually beneficial if I were to sail to Minas Anor for the King's audience, and bring Al-Gareth. He, of course, offered to take any of my companions, but he specifically asked for Al-Gareth.'

He stared out the window, at the traffic passing beneath it, as if it were the most important sight in the world. He turned his head to look at Gramil.

'Why do you think that is?' he asked

Adanedhel

11-01-2002, 04:56 AM

****DALE - Rira****

After making sure everything was prepared for the storm he went to his cabin a cosy little one bed affair with a port hole, a desk and a trunk with his own personally belonings.
The captain bent over the trunk rifling through it then his hand closed on a glass neck and a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

'Thank the Valar'

He whipsered to himself, he pulled out his hand with the prize firmly grasped. A bottle of Rira's finest red wine. He place the bottle on the desk and found a mug to pour the wine into. As he poured the dark red liquid into the mug he could smell it's beautiful aroma, and on a whim he grabbed another mug, filled it and left his cabin looking for Bram to share the dark red wine with.....

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-01-2002, 02:01 PM

^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^^

Full house! Frain was dismayed. He betted a tidy sum on winning. Well, it was just cards, right?

His thoughts strayed to the rest of the ride. A storm was coming? He had good ears. Maybe the trait made him seem a serpant, yet it was very helpful at times. He liked it not that a storm would come. Water was not what disturbed him, it was the thought of being in any way late for the Audience.

He had some new 'friends'. Hringa was somewhat...timid, in a way. Not that that was bad. Girion was a good fellow. Frain was amazing himself. He thought he knew these people when he first met them. They seem so...different now. In a good way... He thought. Strange that a few dwarves, elves and men could get along so well.

Dark clouds loomed almost overhead. Frain could hear the booming of thunder and snapped back to reality. Rain drizzled down a bit. Frain sat up from his place and silently made his down into the hull of the ship.

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

VanimaEdhel

11-01-2002, 05:33 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

Lovek and Ulwyte were separated, and they moved quickly through the day. The scenery did not change. When they stopped that night, Kasteni took Lovek aside.

"Lovek, your actions were very unnecessary today," Kasteni said sternly, "I am disappointed. I thought that someone with your experience would know better."

"I know, Advisor, and I apologize," Lovek said, looking down at the ground, angry that he was confronted, "But, if I may speak openly, this Ulwyte, he is not trained. He is unskilled. He should not be here with us."

"Ulwyte was chosen because he does have skill," Kasteni said, patiently, "This is an important mission, and the Great Captain would not choose just anybody. There is skill there, even if you cannot see it."

"I have been training young men for over ten years, Advisor, and I see no patience or obedience in Ulwyte," Lovek said, getting desperate, "I would see what advantage there is to having him along with us and, I apologize Advisor, but I see none."

"Do not speak of this again. And do be a bit more...civil," Kasteni scolded. He turned and walked away.

Lovek saw Kasteni go to speak with Ulwyte, and saw Ulwyte's face go from curious, to surprised, to frustrated, and finally landing on a guilty expression. Ulwyte slunk dejectedly back to the fire after Kasteni was finished with him. He approached Lovek.

"I suppose Kasteni has had a word with you as well?" Ulwyte asked.

"Yes, and I suppose we must tolerate each other, although I still do not see the point in your presence," Lovek replied.

"Well, I hope that I may prove myself on a later date," Ulwyte said bitterly.

Lovek held out his hand, and Ulwyte shook it.

**********

The company set off early the next day. Ulwyte and Lovek did not bicker at all that day, and the day passed uneventfully. They stopped at about midday for a brief rest, then they took to the road again.

"Advisor," Ulwyte called ahead to Kasteni, "Where are we making for now?"

Lovek resisted the urge into rolling his eyes and sighing at Ulwyte's inexperienced question. He should have been able to know where they were going by the root. Lovek, however, listened to see if Kasteni would not this as well, or whether he would just tell Ulwyte and leave the issue alone...

Guildo

11-01-2002, 11:09 PM

<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>
Orodan & Nefros

Orodan and Nefros had for the most part been quite joyous on the boat trip but with the sight of a storm brewing, they knew this could be trouble, trouble they where not used to without the protection of there trees.

"I say Orodan im begining to feel no more confortable than the Dwarves" said Nefros quitely

"yes Nefros, Storms like this we are not used to but stay calm we do not want the others overreacting."

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Guildo ]

Alkanoonion

11-02-2002, 04:18 AM

*****Harad/Umbar******
At the end of the evening, Jarl saluted them in farewell, and indicated he would come to the docks tomorrow if he decided to take them up on their offer. After he left, Urken turned to Fuinur, "I believe that we need to speak with each other concerning a number of business matters. Please go ahead with your thoughts and concerns. Though I must also say, you have acquired quite a reputation in this city as one who appreciates the finer things of life, shall we say."
Staring at Urken across the table King Fuinur felt a guilty twinge as Urken mentioned his reputation of finer things in life. Fuinur realised that Urken was correct for bringing up his behaviour, but after all it was only a minor fault, true they were supposed to be maintaining secrecy but well… you only live once.

Smiling up at Urken Fuinur apologised for his behaviour and promised that he would show more discretion in the future. Looking up and noticing a serving girl Fuinur waved for another drink.

Watching Fuinur slurring his words while ordering the drink Urken slammed his hand onto the table
That is exactly what I am talking about. Now is not the time for you to be drinking, you have had more than enough wine that if we wrung you out we could fill the ships hull and make our fortunes in the wine trade. Turning to the serving girl Urken told her to bring only hot water, once the water arrived Urken removed a pouch from his robe and placed the contents into the hot cup of water, rising from the cup was a wonderful aroma that Fuinur had almost forgotten.

The smell of coffee permeated around the room, turning back to Fuinur, Urken continued his chide Fuinur for creating such a ruckus with all the parties, as he was trying to maintain secrecy.

Being embarrassed for his actions but also angry for being told off like a child Fuinur demanded whom Urken thought he taking too

Noticing that the patrons where watching them Urken lowered his voice
“ I am talking to a drunken king who needs to remember that our mission is to travel to Minas Anor!”
And that we need to maintain some small measure of discretion, now stop acting like that fool Herumir and return some sense and show us the Fuinur who we can trust with our lives.”
Saying this Urken handed the repentant king the hot coffee.
Drinking the coffee reminded Fuinur of what he was.
“ I am sorry Urken it is the drink talking, yes you are right, but can you blame me for wanting a little fun. What about you? Why have you been acting so weird?”

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

Bêthberry

11-02-2002, 12:36 PM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

Having finished the talk with the captain, Stonehelm was none too sure that the rough old dog should be left to his own devices. Oh, he was probably a good enough sailor, the King thought, but perhaps he has his own agenda which might bear watching. I should speak with Orodon about this, probably Durgan also.

Climbing down the ladder, he came upon the game of chance. It brought out his superstitious side and he declined to match wits with the others, although he nodded a greeting to Frain. He decided that it was an ill omen, playing this game with the storm coming on. Looking up at the gathering thunder head, he murmured words to Mahal and then also criss-crossed his right hand over his left shoulder. Then, losing interest in the game, he sought out Orodan to confer about this captain.

[ November 02, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

piosenniel

11-02-2002, 06:13 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl sifted through the assessment he had received from Gramil. Al-Gareth did appear to be someone of 'political' interest, it seemed. Though, Gramil was not sure where in that arena to place him. Someone obviously up the ruling ladder, considering the trouble that had been gone to to capture him. Al-Hafez was obviously his liegeman, and so far had not proved amenable to any discussions concerning Al-Gareth.

There had been that spark of interest, quickly banked, shown by the Nurnian when Jarl spoke of Urken's offer of passage on his ship to travel to Minas Anor. What would someone from Nurn need to speak with the High King about? Puzzles within puzzles.

He would have to see how he might strengthen the tenuous relationship he now had with this man. And it must be done quickly, if they planned to travel on the morrow by ship. Less than two days would bring them to the city, though if Jarl remembered correctly the audience would not occur until Mettarë. That would give him several additional days in Minas Tirith in which to get to know Al-Gareth better.

It was early next morning, the sun had just lightened the eastern rim of the world, when Jarl woke Garlin and they made for the docks. He had also knocked on Al-Gareth's door, and Al-Hafez had told him that they would be coming in one hour. There were some details that needed to be taken care of first. Jarl stifled his curiosity and did not inquire what those 'details' might be. He said only that they would await the arrival of the Nurnians at the docks.

He was not sure that Gramil would be traveling with them. He had not said one way or the other. Jarl had knocked at his door, and called to him that he would meet him at Urken's ship.

It was quiet in the streets of Pelargir as they made their way down to the quay. He sent Garlin along the dock, to find where the Southron ships lay at anchor, while he waited near the entry way for any sign of the Southrons. Garlin waved him down to where the two ships were tied off. Jarl and he called up to a figure they saw moving about on deck.

'May we come aboard?'

*Varda*

11-03-2002, 12:21 PM

***Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains***

The weather cleared that night, and when the group looked out upon the Misty Mountains at dawn, the sky was a spectacular shade of blue and the sun rising above the mountains.

They packed up quickly and set off, following an old track through the mountains. By the end of the day they were well into the land of the Beornings, before starting to turn south. They were all well aware that they didn't have much time to reach Minas Anor, and although they might be the last party there, at least they would not be late.

However, after continuing for 5 hours, the hobbits demanded a rest, and Serin heartily agreed with them. There was surely no point arriving in a bedraggled, worn out mess was there? That would hardly reflect well upon them.

"Where is our route heading, Elladan?" Brando asked curiously.

"The woods of Lothlorien," Elladan replied. "I have not been there in a long time." At this the hobbits looked happy and excited, while Mikhelm just frowned. Serin was happy to observe it was an improvement, as before he would have had much to say upon the subject.

After a while they began to set off again, Serin walking with Elrohir in front. Their talk concerned many things, and soon they were deep in thought.

Theron instructed them to walk near the Anduin, and this they did, as it would take them by Lorien, and eventually Minas Anor.

"Hobbits!" Ciri called back to them. "You are too near the water, be careful!" The younger hobbits were cheerful and running by the water, forgetting its dangers. Elladan went back to remind them, but too late. Odo stumbled upon the side, toppled, and fell in.

Elladan prepared to dive in after him, but Odo had already grabbed a rock, and was hanging on tight.

At length, when a bedraggled and soggy hobbit had been fished out of the water, the group made the awful discovery - much of their food was ruined.

Amanaduial the archer

11-03-2002, 02:10 PM

*****Shire******

Brando trotted along cheerfully- he'd been thrilled when Elladan had said thaey were going to Lothlorien. The Golden Wood! He'd heard so much about it from Pippin, about the elegance of the strange buildings, the trees seeming to glow, and of course, the enchanting Lady Galadriel. He was already so full of admiration for the elves, especially Ciri.

Wandering along, head filled with these thoughts, beside the water, Brando didnt hear the others shouting until he heard an huge splash behind him. Leaping away with a yelp he almost knocked over Elladan. Sheepishly untangling himself he looked back and saw Odo floundering in the water.

Fighting back the urge to giggle he fished out the pack which the hobbit had been carrying from the water. As the others pulled the soaking and embarrased Odo from the water, the younger hobbit opened the pack to check everything was Ok and gasped.

"Erm...Elladan?" Brando tugged nervously at the end of the elfs tunic. He turned around, looked slightly mystified, then looked down.

"Yes Brando?"

"I...Odo was carrying alot of the food sir, and...well look." He brandished the soggy pack and the others inspeacted its contents with dismay; the food was ruined. Odo hung his head sheepishly and although Ciri told him half heartedly that it was Ok, she wasnt helped by the running commentary from Hardo on young hobbits these days. In a slightly more sober mood, the group walked on.

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-03-2002, 02:49 PM

^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^^

Frain was getting queasy. He could hear the wooden planks in the boat creak and squeal. Even though he was below deck he could sense it now: The water was getting deep on the main deck. Was everyone safe? Frain closed his eyes, afraid to open them again. Frain was completely breathless. Tears of fear formed behind his eyes, but he would not cry. No dwarf cries.

This is why I knew we shouldn't have stepped foot on this boat! Stay strong, it's just a storm...Frain thought, as he triped to wipe the fear away from his heart.

He wished he could help, to make sure everything-and-everyone, was alright. He opened his eyes as he heard a spray near his ear. The wall near him had srpung a small leak. Frain took a slimey, gooey substance out of his small belt-pack, and calmly covered the tiny hole.

He swallowed down his fear, and walked towards the steps that led up into the fresh air...

Utter fear almost smacked Frain to the ground. Or maybe it was the wind that blew a tattered sail to and fro. Rain pelted down and almost caused Frain to slip.

Hello!? Is anybody here? Frain could barely hear the bellow his own voice created.

He tried to move but couldn't. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of sheer shock. Frain hoped to Mahal that all was alright. He held his breath and tried to see through the darkness the storm had created.

This is real, and I'm, afraid. Frain thought to himself, no longer even trying to deny it.

Frain felt stupid, being out on the upper deck, not even knowing what to do or where to go. He only wanted to help. He was alone. He realized that even though at the beginning of his journey, he looked down on his King, there was nothing that he wouldn't do to help him. Everything has changed. Frain realized it hurt to want everything and yet nothing at the same time. He wanted to be loyal to his king and yet retain his self-image.

Thunder boomed and almost knocked Frain off his feet. Minutes went by, although to Frain it seemed like hours. He thought he saw someone-or something-to his left. He walked carefully, almost crawling to stay stable. He saw 'it' move a little, and he got closer to it.

Hello?? Frain called...

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

Elenna

11-03-2002, 05:12 PM

Ciri frowned as a few rather soggy hobbits argued behind her about where they were going to find food now that much of theirs had been ruined. Finally, the elf woman couldn't take it any longer.

"We won't starve, friends! For Elbereth's sake, when you travel with the Elves, hunger isn't an issue."

Then she took up her bow and, dismounting her horse, ran off lightly to go find some game.

Belin

11-03-2002, 06:32 PM

*****Rivendell*****

As usual, Ciri was overly optimistic. She and Elrohir both returned with discouraged faces and empty hands. Elladan, sitting among a group of hobbits, whom nobody any longer trusted to stay away from the water, and reflecting on the ironies of his career and the question of how he had come to be designated nursemaid, greeted them with a valiant attempt to be cheerful. The lack of food worried him little on his own account--he'd gone farther on less-- but the hobbits looked sad and dismayed, and Elladan could only imagine what it would be like, trudging through the wilderness with the despairing and half-starved. Fanelen returned soon afterward, with a couple of rather unimpressive fish.

"Doesn't anything live out here?" burst out Thule, who had been too deeply absorbed in her mysterious plans to participate in the hunting.

"Why don't you try it, guide?" flared Meneciriel.

Elrohir shook his head and wandered off. Mikhelm was beginning to mutter something about his own hunting skills and his preference for wild birds, a quiet tirade that only the other dwarves seemed to really understand.

"This is a stroke of luck, Fanelen," said Elladan, erasing any uncertainty from his voice. "Just look at these fish! Beautiful! Our old supplies wouldn't have been half as good. Now, what did I do with my pans?"

He built a fire, continuing to praise the fish, until the hobbits seemed quite convinced that their meal was nothing short of magnificent. "Cooked by Elves!" whispered Brando, as he finished his share. "Have you ever tasted anything like it?"

"No," said Hardo, "although it's much flavor and little substance, seems to me."

The Dwarves ate little on this occasion, unwilling to be shown up in generosity by a band of ridiculous Elves (or, at least, such Elladan imagined thier thoughts to be), and the Elves less. Surely they would have better luck in days to come, thought Elladan. He watched the hobbits eat with a concern that suprised him. He was growing attached to them, after all.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

piosenniel

11-04-2002, 01:56 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Thump! came the irregular beat af something banging against the ship's railing, then Thump! Thump!. Bram put on hastily his oilskin breeches, jacket and hat, and ran up to the deck.

He listened closely. There it was again - to port. He hastened over to find the rope securing the bow of the small skiff to its davit had come loose. The wind and rain pushed on the small boat, causing it to bang against the ship's railing. He hauled on the rope to even the skiff, and had just knelt down to belay it, when he heard a thin voice call out.

'Hello!'

A curtain of rain hung heavy on the ship, and Bram could barely see who spoke. He secured the rope and made his way toward the the voice.

It was Frain! Bram lent him his arm, and hauled him to his feet. The storm was loud with the pounding of the rain as it beat on the ship, and the cracking of the thunder. He leaned in close to the Dwarf's ear and asked him what he was doing on deck.

'I wanted to help.'said Frain simply. Bram looked at him in an appraising manner.'Well, you're wet already, and there are a few things I could use a hand with, so come along then!'

Under Bram's direction, Frain helped to secure a few more loose ropes, and store a stray crate or two, that had been missed earlier, in the hold. When they were done, Bram took him to the helm deck, and ushered him into the Captain's cabin.

'Rira! Captain! You here?' he called into the darkened cabin as they entered. He lit the lamp to the left of the door, and gasped at the scene. There was Rira, hand on his cup, his head on the table, and fast asleep. An empty bottle of wine lay on its side on the floor. He was drunk! Drunk as a Corsair in a cheap dockside tavern.

Bram sighed and stripped off his oilskins, hanging them on the peg by the door. He motioned to Frain, and together they got the Captain to his bunk and threw a cover over him.

Frain's teeth were chattering from the wet and cold. Bram bade him strip off his wet clothes and wrap himself in a warm blanket. Once done, he gave frain a cup of wine from another bottle he had found under the Captain's bunk.

The Dwarf arched his brows at this discovery, but Bram said only that Rira was a good Captain , and that even the best of Men had low patches to get through as they could. Frain drained his mug, and Bram poured himself and the Dwarf another drink.

They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the storm rage and then spend itself out. Rira, in counterpoint to the music of the storm, snored softly through it all.

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

It was nearing midnight when the storm abated. Frain had gone below to pull on some dry clothes, then came back to the helm. A few wispy clouds scudded across the dark, night sky, obscuring the moon momentarily as each passed. Bram brought Frain up to the Great Wheel, and had him climb onto a crate he had put there.

'Now put your hands just here and the other, there.' he said, as he placed Frain's hands on the wheel. The river is fairly straight and deep in this section. Just keep her in midstream, while I check for storm damage. I'll be in hailing distance if you need assistance. Just use your Dwarven common sense, and all will be well.'

Bram strode off, leaving the petrified Dwarf to handle the ship. The first minutes were terrifying and Frain thought of all sorts of things that could go wrong, all of which ended in the same scenario - the ship lying splintered on the river bank, its crew flung lifeless on the ground. But a half hour passed and then an hour, and none of this scene took place. Frain relaxed into his task and began to get the feel of the helm as the ship cleaved through the river's water.

He was smiling, and humming a Dwarven tune to himself, when Bram returned from his labors. The man took the helm from him, and Frain sat nearby in a chair, enjoying his pipe as the sun rose.

It was a fortunate thing that Frain proved such an able hand at the helm. The Captain took ill over the next few days, and was too weak to pilot the ship himself. Bram and Frain spelled each other at the helm.

The weather held, and there was a fair wind that filled their sail. They had lost time during the storm, and now sped past the fair land of Lorien and Caras Galadon.

On down the mighty Anduin they sailed, past the field of Celebrant, then the Wold, until they entered the Area of the Emyn Muil. To starboard lay the East Wall of Rohan.

Captain Rira, now recovered, took the helm as they entered the Sarn Gebir between the Eastern and Western Emyn Muil. The rapids were a difficult area for a ship to pass, but the Captain had done it before, and now brought this ship safely through them.

All were on deck when they passed the Argonath, the ancestors of the very King they would meet within the next week.

Finally, they entered the calm, wide waters of Nen Hithoel, and docked on the western shore. Bram had them drop anchor and tie off the ship with two stout ropes.

When done, they off loaded the ponies from the ship and what goods, equipment, food, and supplies they could transport. They loaded much of this onto the ponies and the rest they shouldered in their packs.

They made their way south, on foot, keeping the river in sight to their left. It would be a two day journey to the point just beyond Rauros Falls, if they walked from sunrise to sunset.

There, Bram had promised would be another ship, waiting for them. Frain found himself looking forward to getting back on the water. His hands itched to take the helm of a ship once again.

He laughed out loud as he strode along, and many of the company looked askance at him, wondering why he seemed so cheerful.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

11-04-2002, 04:00 AM

**** Harad/Umbar - Gramil ****

Gramil's long stride carried him quickly around the mud puddles as blue as the sky. Still thin and lanky despite his years, he slid between burly shipbuilders with armloads of planks slung over their shoulders; they turned without a glance. Onlookers and the foolish had to duck or be decapitated. No one was supposed to be at the wainwrights who didn't have a job to do, and those there had best know their job enough to stay out of their way.

Gramil squinted up at the first sign of blue skies they'd had for well-nigh a week. He felt like he'd crawled out from under a rock, and his heart lifted at the sight of seagulls. They hovered and danced in the fresh breeze and seemed to love the break in the winter storms as much as anyone. Al-Gareth followed Gramil at a slightly slower pace, the deckhands and dock crowd parting slightly for someone who was obviously a soldier, despite his odd foreign gear. Al-Gareth stuck out wherever you put him, Gramil thought. It was good they were leaving, soon.

They had kept Al-Gareth cooped up in King's Inn for the duration of their stay, but still Al-Gareth had managed to draw attention to himself. The cook's assistant carried a blade now, a gift from Al-Gareth, who'd explained to the gaping young man that it was the custom of his land to give steel to one's trusted liegemen. The assistant now ran errands for Al-Gareth in his free time. He had proven to be a fountain of information. Free information, Jarl had pointed out happily. Another who followed the man like a puppy was the son of a local lordling, a frequent visitor to the tavern at the King's Inn. Gramil had no idea what started that, something about a brawl, but he had visited several times now, and brought his friends. They strutted like rooters in the yard, barely more than boys, eager for trouble. If Gramil hadn't put a stop to it the man who would be king of Nurn, supposedly fleeing in secrecy, would be flanked by an honor guard. The man was a menace. It was clear why his enemies wanted him dead.

If Gramil had not figured early in their travels that Al-Hafez was the more patient of these two from Nurn, he certainly knew it now, though Al-Gareth kept his temper tightly under wraps. But he was young yet, Gramil guessed, no older than thirty-two at most. He could learn. Would he make a good king? It was hard to say. There are those who seem right by the sheer force of their conviction, but that did not make it so. Urkan would know. Gramil was happy to leave the fate of Nurn in Urkan's capable hands. He could save a few slaves, perhaps, but he was not up to setting a king on his throne, for all that Al-Gareth had spoken to him passionately of Nurn and stirred Gramil's old sense of responsibility. Gramil turned and saw Al-Gareth speaking with one of the deckhands. He clapped the man on the back, and followed Gramil to his perch on the upper docks.

"Our ship is ready I understand," he smiled and motioned with his chin at King Fuinur's ship. "We leave tomorrow?"

"Yes," Gramil noted cautiously, "It is not my business, but.. I worry that you have not been overly secret. There are too many who know you, even if they don't know exactly who you are." Al-Gareth's Harad was slightly broken, with an odd accent.

"We leave tomorrow, the danger is little. We need friends, not secrets."

Gramil frowned. He was too polite to say so, but thought privately that friends shared enemies as much as secrets.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Alkanoonion

11-04-2002, 04:45 AM

*****Harad/Umbar******
After their discussion the night before Fuinur was feeling more camaraderie towards Urken, Urken had proven himself now to be a loyal and honourable companion, more trustworthy, still the night before when they had argued Urken had refused to expand further on his plans only saying that once the two ships had left the harbour would he explain fully.

Rising from the bed Fuinur descended the stairs of the inn and entered the common room. Looking around the common rooms interior, Fuinur was once again surprised at the inns appearance. The inn was bright and clean and had a sweet refreshing smell that permeated around the room. Warm light was streaming in through the stained glass windows a rarity gifted to the inn from traders who had once stayed at the inn. The tables and benches were smooth and clean and had a well looked after appearance. The floor was covered in exotic carpets and though it was only early the common room was full of traders who had risen early for a last hot meal before leaving on the morning tide.

Making his way to an empty table Fuinur ordered two bowls of porridge and toast along with two cups of boiling water, he had some coffee that ‘Urken had left him the night before. As he was waiting for the meals to arrive Seth entered the room.

“The ships are ready to depart within the hour, already Urken sent word that all is ready for our departure”
“Excellent I was getting bord with the easy life” said Fuinur
“That’s great for you to say, you don’t have to do all the work,” replied Seth in a playful manner.

The waitress arrived with the two cups of water and the porridge, smiling at Seth the girl left the table along with a pinch on the bottom from Seth.
“Forget about it Seth, you have work to do”
“What? I was only smiling at the girl”
“Ha that’s what they all say, now sit and eat we have a busy day ahead of us!”

After the meal was finished the two friends left the inn and made their way to the docks.

Once onboard his ship Fuinur inspected the work on the mast, the mast was exquisite, not a mark was left of the previous damage. Truly the work of a master craftsman thought Fuinur. Once he had completed his inspection of the ship Fuinur sent word to Urken that they where prepared to leave, they only awaited the new passengers who would be travelling with Urken on his ship towards Minas Anor!”

Receiving no reply from Urken Fuinur started to get worried and decided to make his way to Urken’s ship when from below on the dock he heard a voice 'May we come aboard?' looking down Fuinur saw that it was the companions from the inn the night before Jarl and Garlin.
“Welcome my friends, come aboard, where are your other companions Al-Gareth's and Al-Hafez ?”
Jarl replied, “Al-Gareth's and Al-Hafez would be arriving within the hour.
Lets find Urken so we can leave.

Fuinur was interrupted by one of the deck hands that had a message from Urken who was detained by other matters.

King Fuinur and companions. Greetings.

I am indisposed at the moment preparing for our departure and due to recent news that I have received we need to leave today, no later. The tide is about to turn and as the two ships are prepared and ready we need to leave immediately! Please make all hast for our departure.
I ask for only one small favour: that for the moment the companions travel with you and later other arrangement can be made.
Please respond immediately to my request.

Urken the Bear, Warrior Priest of the Guild of the Black Numenoreans

Fuinur looked up from the letter
“Sorry my friends looks like we need to leave immediately, Seth can you please send one of the crew to pick up our missing companions and have them meet in my cabin, we leave within the hour”.

Seth bowed “My lord dragon” and left

Fuinur turned to his two gests and proceeded to escort them to his cabin…

Later when all the companions were onboard the two ships slowly made Their way out of the Port and once again on towards Minas Anor!

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Alkanoonion ]

Ringwraith Number Two

11-04-2002, 12:52 PM

******The Shire/Blue Mountains/Rivendell******

Orlo finished his fish and looked sadly down at the remaining crumbs.

"We could all tighten our belts and see how long we could hold out without proper food.." he suggested half-heartedly. "There doesn't seem to be any other way. The longer we stay here, the farther we'll be from the solution to our problem. I hear the Lady of the Wood is very generous."

Orlo got up and found the soggy pack in which the ruined food still remained. He couldn't bring himself to say the next few words, but he managed to get them out.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures..." he mumbled. He brushed down his clothes and shouldered his pack. The others did the same, Odo grumbling a little at having to cut his break short.

****************************
They continued journeying. Thule, praised by everyone, found some nourishing berries that she had eaten whilst travelling in the wild before. Everyone grabbed as many as they could: despite being a little sour, they were juicy and gave the eater some energy atleast. Fanelen disappeared now and again to scout the area for any rabbits or streams where she could fish, but was unlucky.

Nightfall came. The hobbits walked on as if in a dream; Orlo's legs felt like lead and he felt slightly dizzy. He heard Ciri call them to a stop. He leaned against a tree as Ciri gave them heartening news.

"We're very near to the Golden Wood. We'll reach it sometime tomorrow, but only if we carry on walking for a while."

Mikhelm opened his mouth to complain. Hardo, very surprisingly, actually looked mutinous. Ciri cut across them.

"The sooner we get to Lorien, the sooner we'll be able to eat proper food."

She had a point. Orlo pushed himself up and looked around at the others. The march began again, and the moon has risen high in the sky when they halted, tired out, and fell asleep under an ancient tree which provided some shelter from the wind.

Child of the 7th Age

11-05-2002, 12:54 AM

Urken shook his head as the ships pulled out of dock. He'd barely made it back. He was uncertain whether Gramil had gotten to the docks on time. One way or another, they were finally going to Minas Anor.

Urken had to give a certain amount of credit to Fuinur. The man might be indiscreet, and spend a bit too much on wine and women, but he had arranged their departure quite nicely. Perhaps, he'd be able to make a decent sailor out of him after all.

For the next day, Urken secreted himself within the cabin, busy on his own affairs which he had still managed to hide from everyone. Even the crafty Jarl had failed to pull it out of him. No use going into the matter until they reached Minas Anor.

The ship made excellent time on its trek up the river. Already they were more than half way towards their intended goal. Urken went over to the safe which was kept near the helm and, looking around to be certain no one was in sight, carefully opened it. He pulled out a book, a very ancient book from the look of it, and took it with him to his cabin.

For the next hour he was immersed in one of the secret volumes of the Guild of the Black Numenoreans. He told no one what he was reading, or the precise matters contained in its pages. Perhaps, after they arrived in Minas Anor, they might discuss the matter. But how much should he trust his companions? That was hard to say. He'd have to wait and judge when the time came.

Another day of sailing, and they should be docking in Minas Anor.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Adanedhel

11-05-2002, 03:28 AM

The Captain felt slightly embarrassed and that he had let down his new crew and the first mate Bram. He trudged along eyes always averting the furtive glance aimed at him by the crew members, each glance asking a question:

'Is this the man who holds out lives in the balance when we are aboard a ship?'

He hated himself for that, and as the company set camp for the night he took all the bottles of wine he had squirreled away in his trunk and through them in long arching throws into the river, watching them sink to the bottom.....

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

piosenniel

11-05-2002, 04:11 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

Three days of hard, long trekking brought them round the Falls and back once again to the southern portion of the Great River. They were now in the region of Anorien, heading for the northern most mouth of the Entwash as it entered the Anduin.

It was midday of the third day, when the reached their destination. Bram called a halt, saying they would wait here for their ship to come to them. The companions took their afternoon meal, and then relaxed on the ground talking amiably among themselves. Someone had broken out a small barrel of Old Toby, and pipes were filled and tamped and lit.

In the late afternoon of that day, a small, sleek craft was seen making its way north from Cair Andros, piloted by an old acquaintance of Bram's. He had guessed rightly on the day they would arrive, though when he and Bram had first made their plans, the schedule had been more tenuous. Unfortunately, the ship could not accomodate the ponies. So, once again the long suffering dwarves had to sacrifice part of their belongings.

Frain shook his head woefully, what had started out so promising had become a disaster. All the dwarves had now to present to the King were themselves! 'Still,' thought Frain, 'that will have to be enough!'

The companions helped the each other to load what they could on the ship, then they continued their journey to Minas Anor.

Evening became night, and night turned into day. They sailed on, past the many mouths of the Entwash, Anorien on their right, and now North Ithilien to their left. Early morning of the second day back on the River, they sighted Cair Andros and put in at its northern end.

The companions took the opportunity to explore the long island. During the times when men feared the advent of shadow, this island had played a strategic part in the defense against the troops of Mordor. Aragorn, himself, had ordered part of his troops to keep and maintain the island against the coming of Saurons's troops from the east. To the east of the southern end of the island could be seen the Field Cormallen, the Golden Ring, where Frodo and Sam were received after they achieved the Quest of Mount Doom.

The companions gathered on the ship for the night. Sleep eluded them. Tomorrow, early, they would set sail for the White City, Minas Anor, the Seven-tiered City, the Tower of the Setting Sun.

By midday they would enter it.

Nevtalethiel's Post:

***** DALE – Girion *****

Despite the darkness, and the now comforting rush of the water against the hull, Girion could not sleep.

"Tomorrow," he thought, "we will come to Minas Anor, and I must meet the King." It was a weight which had been lying heavily upon him for the last days. When he had set out, he had never really believed that he would come here. He had not feared for the completion of his task, he had merely never considered that he would actually be here, it seemed too unreal. If he was honest, he had not cared when he began his journey. It had all been one grand adventure, and if he messed it up, it would not matter. Now he was not so sure.

He sighed and stood up. As he opened the door of the cabin, light spilled in and Rubin mumbled something.

"I'll be fine" Girion reassured him, "I just have to do something important" Rubin's sarcastic laugh was met only by the swinging door.

Gently, Girion tapped on Bram's door. He had been getting up his courage to do this since they had left the first boat, but his pride had never allowed him to talk to Bram in front of the others, and he knew he must do so before they reached Minas Anor. For his country, for his people and mostly for his father, he entered the room.

"Bram, I...I know it's a bit late notice, but I've been meaning to ask you for the last couple of days and never got around to it, could you possibly fill me on everything you know about Dale's trade and diplomatic relations before we get to Minas Anor please - I've had an initial briefing before I left Dale, but I've forgotten what I knew and I never knew anything about Dale's colonies."

Girion took a deep breath and realised how much he had said without stoping, once he had started, he had not wanted to in case he could not start again.

Pio’s Post -- BRAM

Bram sat in the chair at his desk, his feet propped on the desk’s worn top. He was bone tired, and the half drunk glass of red wine in his hand had only served to emphasize his weariness. He held the glass up to the hooded light of the brass lamp swaying gently on its chain above the desk. The pale light played about the edges of the deep red liquid, but could not penetrate it. ‘Like blood.’ he murmured, twirling the liquid in the glass.

A half rolled map lay askew on the desk top where he had tossed it. Downing the last swallows of wine, he turned back to the map and unrolled it, securing the top edges with the wine bottle and the glass at each corner, while his forearms held down the bottom edge. He studied it closely, his eyes moving from area to area.

‘Come!’ he said, when first he heard the tapping at his door. He rolled the map and laid it aside as the door opened.

Girion stood in the doorway, a determined look on his face. Bram bade him enter, and pushed the pile of maps and cast off clothes from his bed to make a seat for him. The prince hesitated, and Bram smiled at him, encouraging him to begin. Once begun, the young man’s thoughts came bursting out like a pent up torrent.

Bram sat silently, musing, while Girion spoke. It was not the words which he marveled at, but the emotions behind them which shown out. He recalled the letter that Bard had sent him, telling of this mission he had sent his son on. The King had poured out his concerns, frustrations and hopes for his child, and a plea to Bram to see Girion through this if he would.

When first they met, Bram had wondered if Bard had placed his hopes too high for his son. Girion had worn an easy arrogance, like a cloak about his young shoulders. He was immature. Not the sort of man to draw people together and to him as would a King. But now he had let that cloak slip from him, and the true man beneath had come forth.

Once done, Girion looked at Bram, a hint of crimson staining his cheeks at what he had asked of the other man. The well-worn arrogance of youth warred briefly with his fledgeling maturity, and he stifled the urge to stride from the room before the older man could embarrass him with his comments.

‘So be it, Girion.’ came the quiet reply from Bram, as he held the young man’s gaze.

He drew another chair up close to the desk, and unrolled the map once again. ‘Here is map the Jarl and I have put together over the years. Slowly we are filling in these areas as Dale moves in to establish markets there.’ He pointed to the southeaster quadrant of the map. ‘This is where Jarl is at the moment. Your father has sent him to open up trade relations with the Southrons – Harad and perhaps Nurn, if possible.’

He pointed to numerous red and black dots spread over the map. ‘These black dots indicate the places where Dale is fully viable as a major trading concern. These red dots are the places where contracts are still tenuous, where the merchants have not yet seen the benefit to joining a larger Trade consortium.’ He looked closely at Girion. ‘Dale’s way has always been to support these areas as they go through the process of their decision making. It is not our policy to coerce them in any way. Threats and heavy handedness might bring short term profit, but in the long run those who feel they are under a yoke will turn and kill their masters as the opportunity presents itself.’

Girion nodded, making the connection with his own approaches to solving disputes. They had not either proved profitable to him in the long run, and he now realized he had lost the opportunity for some fast friends and allies. ‘Their will be things I need to mend once I return home.’ he thought to himself.

The two Dalesmen talked on through the night. Bram had found an eager and willing pupil in Girion, and he gave him all the benefit of his many years and knowledge. By the time they met the King, Girion would prove an able representative for Dale.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-05-2002, 10:26 AM

^^^^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^^^^

We are almost there! Thought Frain, both ruefully and joyously.

They had almost made it to their destination. Smoke from the pipes around him filled the air with a comforting scent. They had worked so hard and lo! they would head into the City with heads held high, for the Elves, Men and Dwarves had come together in a band not unlike that of Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas had.

Yet, what of the Audience? Frain had nothing to give to the King, nothing to promise his gift of friendship and his kinsman's skills in craft and engineering. Nothing to present save the story he had brought since he left home, and himself.

Would that do? Frain could do nothing but worry that last night.

What of his friends? Frain couldn't believe that what started as just a bunch of Elves had turned into what they always had been: Beautiful joyous spirits that now had to leave the earth. What had been Men had become humorous and jovial companions. His own kin which he had been so wary of at first, became like brothers in a way.

Althoug Frain wished he was back home, he still wished this journey would never end.

Maybe I am just fooling myself. Frain thought as he sat on his blanket. He did not sleep the whole night.

piosenniel

11-05-2002, 11:46 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

It was early morning, and a glorious day had dawned on the Great River. A brisk wind filled their sails, and their craft was making good speed with the current.

Frain had gone into the small cabin on the helm deck for a much needed rest, and Rira stood at the helm. Not a great deal of correction was needed to keep the craft true to course, so he spent much of his time looking at the great flocks of seabirds that wheeled and turned in the sky above the ship. The sky was thick with them, even this far from the great ocean.

'They're lovely to watch, aren't they?' remarked Bram coming up behind him. 'In all my times up and down this river, though, I've never seen so many of them. It's almost as if they herald our approach.' He walked toward the low hanging roof of the small cabin. 'Give me a hand up here, Rira, and let me see what I can see.'

The Captain secured the helm, and gave Bram a boost up. Stepping back to the wheel, he watched as Bram scanned the river and its lands ahead, straining to catch a sight of the famous city.

It was midday when Bram cried out, pointing toward the southwest. 'The peak of Mount Mindolluin is clearly in sight now!'

A bleary eyed and clearly unrested Frain stumbled out of the cabin. 'Hey! How can you expect a Dwarf to get any sleep with an elephant tap dancing overhead and shouting out points of interest like some rabid tour guide!?'

'Come up, Frain!' said Bram, extending her hand to him. The city should be coming into sight soon.' Even a tired Frain could not resist this offer, and up he climbed.

Bram shouted to the rest of the crew to come and view their approach. He pulled out a map to show them where they would dock the ship once they reached Minas Anor.

http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/maps/minastirith.gif

The Elves, with their keen eyes, were the first to see the city, itself.

'Look, look!' they cried, shading their eyes in the sun. 'The beautiful tower - shining so bright in the sun?'

'The White Tower of Ecthelion!' came the voice of Rira, his dark eyes sparkling with delight.

Girion gazed on the city. 'I never thought to see this image come to life!' As if in a dream, he quoted a much loved passage he had heard once when Rangers had come through Dale. He remembered one tall, raven haired, grey eyed Man who had taken pity on the curiosity of a child asking for tales of far off lands. He had spoken of this great city with a certain fondness:

. . . the Tower of Ecthelion, standing high within the topmost walls, shone out against the sky, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, tall and fair and shapely, and its pinnacle glittered as if it were wrought of crystals...'(ROTK)

The ship approached Harlond, the port of Minas Anor. Small boats came out from the docking area to bring in the ship. Frain and Bram threw lines from the foredeck, on either side, and the boat-tenders secured them to the rear of their vessels. They slowly and surely drew the ship into dock.

A single man dressed in simple finery, stood on the dock, and watched the ship approach, noting the mix of Men, Elves and Dwarves aboard. Once it was secured, he hailed the companions, now all hanging over the railing and gazing at the city.

'Well met!' he cried in a great voice to them. ‘I bid you welcome in the name of King Elessar!’

Bram strode down the gang plank toward the man. 'We have come for the King's Audience. These are the companions from The Lonely Mountain, Dale, and Eryn Lasgalen. Will you give the King our greetings and let him know we have come?'

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-05-2002, 12:05 PM

^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^

'Well met!' he cried in a great voice to them. ‘I bid you welcome in the name of King Elessar!’

Frain listened not to the voice, for his eyes were the only things at work. He may have been greatly tired, yet the White City made him feel awake as ever. They had made it! All those long hours and days, all those hard times, and what a way to be rewarded! A beautiful city lay before them, as Frain stood on his tippy-toes to see above the railing of the boat.

Frain could hardly wait to see the rest of the city. Especially since the expanse of what he saw then was so lovely. From his spot on the deck and his view as he stepped off the boat, white birds flew around and sunlight glittered off the top of a tower. Some of the houses looked battered and beaten, probably whatever was left of the Great War of the Rings. Yet those were being fixed. The city seemed so busy, Frain was reminded of home.

So, we have made it. Frain said aloud.

Yes, and hopefully the worst is over. Frain heard Hringa behind him.

This is beautiful. Yet still, home is where the heart is, right? Frain answered.

I should hope so. Yet I am comfortable being here, so long as we shall stay a while. Hringa smiled.

Frain closed his eyes and remembered home. He was glad to be here too, he realized.

He wondered what other delagates had come as of this day. What would become of them during the Audience?

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

*Varda*

11-05-2002, 03:26 PM

***Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains***

After some rest, the party tightened their belts and once more headed south. After a day of walking and much complaining from everyone at some point, they eventually saw the woods of Lorien ahead of them.

Even Mikhelm, after his initial grumbling, could not fail to be breathtaken by the woods. However, Ciri reminded them all before entering that they could not tarry long, a proper night's sleep and a chance to replenish their supplies was all that they could find time for. The group did not care, they were just thankful for a good hearty meal, the first since their food had been ruined.

Serin wandered around the woods with Elrohir and Odo. They were lost for words, with the exception of Elrohir, who knew Lorien.

"The beauty of Galadriel..." Serin murmured. "I've never seen an elf like that before...she just captivated me. I now know how Gimli son of Gloin must have felt, falling under her spell."

"I don't know what I imagined, Serin, but nothing like this!" marveled Odo. "I can't believe I have the chance to see it, it's completely beyond me!"

Serin wholeheartedly agreed. Taking in the splendour and the beauty of Lorien made him all the more convinced in his heart that he must convince the dwarves to accept the other races. Imagine the dwarf kingdoms, with their halls of stone and crafts, but also mingled with the beauty and light of the Elves! It would be a spectacular sight, and Serin dreamed of seeing it.

Serin did wish he had had the chance to see the dwarf-city, Moria, but no doubt they could pass through it on the journey back. He would not have given this up for the world.

However, much to everyone's regret, they had to move on the next morning, and everyone's mood was dampened somewhat. At this point, Elladan came back with the news that they were being given boats, to sail down to Minas Anor! This news lightened everyone's spirits, as the journey would be made much less tiring, and leave more time to spare, depending how the weather went.

The boats quietly drifted down the Silverlode and into the Anduin, and they bid farewell to Lorien. Serin felt, as Lorien became further and further behind, that he would never look upon that fair place again, and felt sorrowful.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

piosenniel

11-05-2002, 03:36 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

He had spent most of the night awake. Urken had proved a challenging man to speak with. His answers to Jarl's questions were convoluted when considered closely. When one did manage to work through the lines of reasoning behind them, the conclusions often seemed to point in opposing directions.

Too much 'maybe yes, maybe no' had given the Dalesman a headache! One point, though, which seemed to run through all this talk, was Urken's steady interest in the men from Nurn.

It was because of this, that Jarl, early the next morning, had invited Al-Gareth to watch at the bow with him, to catch the first glimpses of Minas Anor as it came into view. He hoped to get some idea from the Nurnian about the reasons he wished to see King Elessar. Jarl, and of course Dale, was extremely interested in opening trade relations with this new country. Perhaps he could offer his services to Al-Gareth, as a friendly ally to stand by him as he spoke with the King. He would approach him with this idea, before they left the ship.

Once round the great eastern curve of the river, the great peak of Mount Mindolluin met their eyes to the northwest. Clouds of white seabirds wheeled and turned overhead as the ship tacked against the current. A favorable wind drove them on at a steady pace.

Al-Gareth marvelled at the sights and sounds of the river passage, at the feeling of freedom it afforded. He looked at Jarl whose gaze was fully on the great mountain and considered the line of thought he had recently begun - now with the hope of Nurn seeming more secure, he might reach out for aid as he met the King. His assessments of those around him had always proved sound, and he thought now to speak clearly with Jarl.

He drew the man's attention, and said, 'If you would, Jarl of Dale, I would like to speak with you on a matter of some importance - to myself and my country, and possibly to yours.'

A gasp of great surprise and wonder interrupted Jarl as he began to answer Al-Gareth. Both men's eyes turned in the direction which Al-Hafez pointed.

'My Lord!' came the excited words of the liegeman as his eyes mirrored the nearing White tower. 'Look how the shining spear pierces the Heavens! Truly a great King must rule here!'

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Celebmornie

11-05-2002, 04:30 PM

**Rivendell**

Thule grabbed a paddel and helped to row. I shall miss Lorien!She thought as they moved away from it. She hoped that everyone was up to the trip ahead of them and hoped more so that she was.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Elenna ]

Alkanoonion

11-05-2002, 07:02 PM

**** Harad/Umbar****
Upon receiving Seth’s message from Kurdin, Herumirs party had made their way towards Minas Anor and had started travelling at night to avoid detection.

The trail was dusty from the passage of the remaining Oliphaunts but Herumir was pleased, they had done the impossible and finally where approaching Minas Anor.

While travelling they had found a ship that was stoped off for repairs. The ship had sustained damage in a storm two-nights prior while travelling towards Minas Anor. The captain had lost huge sums of money in damaged produce and had been more than happy to make up the loss by transporting the troop most of the way. Dropping the party in a deserted shoreline 1 day’s journey from Minas Anor to avoid detection.

Herumir left the captain with a full purse and promises of more gold from future trade between the two and as a gesture of good will had even engaged the captain in a mission to start transporting coffee. The captain had sold his remaining produce to Herumir before Turning towards Harad to pickup the first load of coffee.

Herumir was especially pleased; he had purchased several rare items from the ships captain for trade with the city giving the troop a reason for travelling towards the city while not revelling the troops true identity. Travelling now during the day, the group continued on towards the City.

Bêthberry

11-05-2002, 07:41 PM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

Stonehelm stood back, letting Frain and Hringa have pride of place as they walked ahead down the gangplank.

Strange what the journey accomplished, thought the dwarven king to himself. We were forced to cast aside the very things we so greatly desired to speak for us, and yet now we stand the stronger for it. Frain has proven himself in greater ways than even I imagined he would. Heh, he has surprised himself I would bet. And I have found the councillor I was needing for the negotiations that lie ahead. And Hringa, hiding so often amid the scrolls and protocols of the Great Hall, has taken his first steps towards ownership of his role. Stonehelm nodded his head with confidence. He had chosen his companions wisely, and his trust was well-rewarded.

Stoneheld was not entirely decided if he should let Hringa introduce Erebor's claim to Khazad-dûm with Elessar, or if he himself should make the initial proposition, but he knew there was time enough later to decide that. A noise behind him signalled the late arrival of Curin, Burin, Pain and Gain, marshalled by a now-recovered Durgon. A nod of Stonehelm's head directed them down to the firm timbers of the harbour wharf.

Something drew Stonehelm back, to watch the White Tower of Guard in the bright sunlight. He had fought for this, after his father fell, not only for Erebor and the Kingdom under the Mountain, in the Siege of Erebor. He could face Elessar proudly as a veteran of the War of the Ring and look upon his Queen and know that her safety and that of Rivendell was vouchsafed by Erebor. Was here the answer to all that grim blood-letting? he wondered.

Well, I know one thing, said Stonehelm aloud to no one in particular. After our forest adventures I might not be as keen to see the White Tree as Orodan might be. He laughed to himself as he headed down the gangplank after his dwarves.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

Marileangorifurnimaluim

11-05-2002, 11:53 PM

'My Lord!' came the excited words of the liegeman as his eyes mirrored the nearing White tower. 'Look how the shining spear pierces the Heavens! Truly a great King must rule here!'

Ethar took the steps from Gramil's cabin two at a time, and goggled at what was surely the tallest city he had ever seen. He ignored Jarl's startled glance. The man of Dale had been rather spooked two days out, when Gramil and his assistant made their first appearance above deck. Albeit Gramil was in no condition to notice subtlties. Or anything at all for that matter.

It took some piecing together, but apparently Jarl had knocked at their empty room back at the Inn, not realizing Gramil and all his baggage were already on board. King Fuinur had thought it all a mighty fine joke. Gramil was too weak to appreciate the humor it, and after a brief bit of air disappeared back into his cabin, praying for death.

Susan Delgado

11-06-2002, 01:27 AM

******Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mts******

Hardo sat in the stern of his boat and watched the clouds. He'd had a very trying couple of days and was all too glad to sit and relax while someone else did the work for a change. Not that he objected to building all the fires and cooking all the meals, but maybe the Elves might want to do something contructive as well. He glanced toward the prow, where Meneciriel was rowing industriously. Behind him, Thule was rowing with slightly less enthusiasm but still doing her share. Hardo returned his gaze to the clouds. Clouds always made him fell so peaceful. Before he knew it, he'd fallen into a doze.

He woke with a start when the boat came to a stop against a rocky beach. Looking around, he realised that several hours had passed and it was now late afternoon. The group had stopped for a bit of supper before pushing on through the night. Hardo grumbled a bit, but it was more for appearances than from any real sense of irritation. They were behind schedule, after all, and had to make up the time somehow.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

piosenniel

11-06-2002, 03:12 AM

Sharon's Post:

***** HARAD/UMBAR *****

As the two ships turned course and steered into the harbor at Minas Anor, attendants began to prepare the cargo to load onto the dock. Packages and supplies were quickly stored in a nearby area where the owners could send servants to come and claim their possessions at a later time. The retainers led the horses and Oliphaunts down the ramp, one-by-one, so that they would be waiting for their masters who would shortly leave the vessels. All was done with order and precision. There were no ugly incidents such as mice running across the ship's ramp or riots breaking out that had marred the start of the voyage.

A large number of curious onlookers from Gondor had come to gaze on the ship and its travelers. It had been many years since a vessel from Umbar had come to Gondor in peace. The men of the city were used to Corsair pirates, but not a King of one of the principalities of Harad or, even stranger to them, a Warrior-Priest of the Black Numenoreans. They seemed like strange, exotic figures from another world. The fact that a man of the north rode with them made the party even more puzzling.

Urken stood by the railing as the crowd surged back and forth trying to break through the barriers and gain access to the ships. He laughed and shook his head, but then his attention was diverted by something else, a matter of much deeper concern. He saw Jarl and Al-Gareth walking together on the dock, engaged in prolonged and earnest conversation. Urken felt his own back stiffen. Had he waited too long to play his cards?

Fuinur had managed to sequester the visitors on his own ship for the two-day cruise up the river. Perhaps he had been foolish to let that arrangement stand. He cursed his stupidity, and decided that the time had come to be direct. It was not a role that he relished, or one that came easily to a person of his temperament. However, even he acknowledged that there were times when the straight approach was the fastest and most valuable.

He went to a locked safe and secured something from it, tucking a carefully wrapped package under his arm. Then he went down the ramp to where the two men stood together on the quay, sidling up to them until he caught the attention of Jarl.

***** DALE - Jarl *****

The Dalesman stood a little apart. He was scanning the dock for familiar faces, faces from Dale. It was near the time set for the audience, and he hoped to speak with those whom King Bard had sent. He wondered if there might be information concerning them at a certain tavern he knew to be frequented by Dale tradesmen when in the city.

When Urken approached, Jarl mentioned the tavern and that it was nearby. 'We can kill two birds with one stone.' he thought to himself. Urken seemed in the mood to be more forthcoming, and Jarl wanted a way to put out some feelers on the delegation from Dale.

They walked along companionably to all appearances. Urken engaged the other men in some desultory conversation, drawing out Al-Gareth. While Jarl, his mind on other matters, made a few perfunctory remarks when addressed.

Sharon's Post:

Urken accepted the men's invitation and walked with them to 'The Mischievous Merman', a long time establishment close to the harbor. This was the first time, he'd gotten a close look at al-Gareth in the clear light of day. As he gazed into the man's eyes, a wave of recognition flooded over him. This was indeed the figure that had troubled his dreams for so many weeks. He struggled to keep his features impassive.

The men entered the private room they had arranged, hoping to ward off any prying eyes or ears. Once the door had closed behind them, Urken did as he had promised, placing his package on the table and slowly unwrapping it. As the wrappings came off, an ancient book of lore was revealed, one common to the peoples of the three kingdoms of Harad, Umbar, and Nurn. It was a source that Elessar and his court were unlikely to know well. Carefully, he turned the pages of the volume searching for the pertinent passages. Upon finding them, Urken began to read, apologizing to the men for his crude translation from the original Adunaic.

A fair jewel hidden in a veil of mud,
A slave, born now with noble blood.

For o'er a thousand years this land,
Has seen no strong or royal hand.

When the noble slave ascends the throne,
A great alliance shall be sown.

Three kingdoms, separate but allied,
No longer must their greatness hide.

Harad, then Umbar and now Nurn,
Find peace and power in its turn.

Urken fixed a firm eye on the figure of al-Gareth, and asked, "Can you tell me what these fine words mean?"

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Adanedhel

11-06-2002, 04:42 AM

Rira was glad to be finally at Minas Arnor and the tiredness he felt was nearly overwelming, he bid goodbye to Bram and the crew congratulatinng them on their fine nautical skills and politley refused Bram's offers to join him at a nearby Inn.

'I wish not to burden you with my presence any more. I will stay with family i have here in Minas Arnor'

The captain pulled out a piece of paper which had a hastily scrawled address on it

'If you have need of me again this is where to find me'

He pushed the paper into Bram's as he shook it, just as he left he turned and said.

'Your a good First Mate Bram, the finest i have ever had'

With that Rira pulled his cloak around his shoulders and strode off into the streets making his way to a warm meal, cold ale and a comfortable bed among family is all he wanted.....

Cuthalion

11-06-2002, 09:58 AM

^^^^^^Erebor/Lonely Mountain^^^^^^

Durgan breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he felt the sturdy planks of the quay beneath his boots. Keeping a close eye on the Dwarves at his side, he stood looking in wonder at the White City, its tall towers and level upon level reaching to the sun filled him a sense of hope. He knew that Stonehelm carried a great burden in ruling their people and Durgan, now having seen for himself the might of Gondor began to believe that this audience was fortuitous indeed.

The massive stonework impressed him as nothing else on their journey could have. He longed to walk the streets and look out over the Pelennor Fields far below from its ramparts. So much had happened here, so many had died to make meetings such this one with Elessar possible, he began to feel over-whelmed.

Bringing himself back, he found that he was not the only one so obviously impressed. His fellow Dwarves had the glint of approval in their eyes and the others were looking about them, smiling and talking amongst themselves. Straightening his belt, he walked over to Stonehelm to find out what would be in store for them next.

piosenniel

11-06-2002, 11:15 AM

***** DALE - Bram *****

'If you have need of me again this is where to find me'

He pushed the paper into Bram's as he shook it, just as he left he turned and said.

'Your a good First Mate Bram, the finest I have ever had'

Bram tucked the paper into his breeches pocket and walked a little way down the pier with Rira, his hand on the other man's elbow, drawing him close. 'It has always been my experience, Rira, that it is a good Captain who draws out the best in his crew. So I thank you for your compliment, and return the same to you.' He stopped and shook the other man's hand. 'Come up to the Old Ford Inn when you are back in the north. We'll commandeer a back booth and tell tales of other voyages. And perhaps, if you've a mind for it, I have a longing to visit lands along the southern coast, now that the Shadow recedes.'

Rira smiled at the offer and nodded his head, eyes twinkling at the thought of the open sea once again. He nodded to Bram and then turned and strode off into the city.

By the time Bram returned to the ship, all the companions had disembarked. 'Are you thirsty?' he asked them. 'I know I am!' He gathered them all together about him. 'Come!' he said, as he turned and made for the first tier of the city, 'There is a tavern nearby with a pleasant courtyard. We can sit and drink with firm ground beneath our feet, then make our way up to the King's Hall to see when we're expected.' He led them on toward The Mischievous Merman and the promise of a pleasant time.

Down the pier they went, Dwarves, Elves, and Men. The more polite citizenry gave them only a cursory glance as they passed, while others stopped and stared at the group as if it were a wonder.

piosenniel

11-06-2002, 12:41 PM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl volunteered to retrieve another flagon of wine for the group as Al-Gareth pondered how to answer Urken's question. 'Two flagons, perhaps.' he murmured to himself, this might prove a long session as Urken and the Nurnian shared information.

It was hot in the common room from the press of too many bodies. Jarl picked his way across the room to the bar, only to be ignored by the too busy serving man. Through the window, Jarl saw the courtyard was less crowded, and he thought to step out to stretch his legs and catch a breath of clean, cool air.

The large tree to the side of the yard afforded some shade, and he leaned against its trunk for a moment. He glanced back in through the window toward the common room and smiled. Fuinur, had come up to the bar, and his mighty presence had not gone unnoticed by the serving man, who hurried to bring him three flagons of wine.

Fuinir, came to the doorway of the tavern, and raised the flagons in his hand, gesturing for Jarl to come back in. Jarl put up his hand, indicating that he wished to stay outside for a while. Fuinur grinned at him, then raised one flagon to his lips and drained it. Setting the empty vessel back on the bar, he carefully made his way back to the private room with the promised drinks.

As he stood beneath the shelter of the tree, Jarl heard voices, raised in snatches of song and laughter coming from round the bend in the street leading to the tavern. And there were two that sounded very familiar to him. He strode to the entry way of the courtyard and leaned on the weather beaten post which held the carved image of a leering Merman. He hailed the merry band of revellers as they neared.

'Girion, my Prince!' he said, giving the young man a slight bow as was the Dale custom. 'I should have guessed the King would send you to represent Dale.'

He clasped the other man's hand warmly, and shook his head, grinning. 'Bram! You old sea dog! What are you doing here?'

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Nevtalathiel

11-06-2002, 02:58 PM

* * * DALE - Girion * * *

"Jarl!" Girion had not expected to see Jarl, though he rememeber that he had probably been told at some point that they would meet in the White City. He smiled at the knowledge that he would not now have to face King Elessar alone but would be there with one of his father's most trusted trade advisers.

"We were just off to the tavern, come and share a drink with us." His smile broke into a grin, at which Jarl looked a little uncomfortable; he was clearly aware that one drink with Girion could lead to a whole host of other mayhem. "It's ok, Bram's taking us, and I promise to be good." Jarl looked sceptical; a promise from Girion had never meant much, unless it was a promise of broken bones, but a nod and a wink from Bram reassured him.

Child of the 7th Age

11-06-2002, 03:23 PM

Harad/Umbar

There was palpable tension in the room as Urken and Fuinur waited for the answer to the priest's question. Al-Gareth turned his head away, reluctant to reveal more information, yet painfully aware that he needed friends and allies if he was to accomplish what he had set out to do.

"Perhaps, I should be clearer," Urken intoned. "Our audience with Elessar is tomorrow. If there are urgent things to be said, that is the time when all must be revealed."

Abruptly, Urken stood up and placed his hand on al-Gareth's shoulder. "You have spent your whole life hiding secrets. You have suffered and seen your country fall under an evil spell. The habit of secrecy is not easy to break. Believe me, I know. But there comes a time when a man must stand and open his mouth, or else he will fail."

Still, al-Gareth hesitated, uncertain what he should do.

Then Urken, the proud warrior priest of Umbar, walked before al-Gareth and fell to his knees. His palms were extended upward, the great sword of Numenor extending between his two hands. He spoke with great solemnity, "It is told in the ancient texts how the peoples of Harad, Umbar, and Nurn will turn to each other in friendship and alliance, and their might will be acknowledged by many, even the kingdom of Gondor. I believe that time has come. Yet no alliance is possible until Nurn is cleansed and lies under the rule of a just king, he who was prophesied in the lay. That time, too, I believe, is now."

"Al-gareth, I acknowledge you as sovereign lord of Nurn, and pledge my wealth and honor to that goal. And my guild will support you to that end, down to the last warrior-priest." He extended his sword towards the man and placed it within his lap.

Fuinur sat in amazement, saying nothing and only watching.

The man of Nurn responded to Urken in a clear voice, "I will take your allegiance and support as my own, and the guild which you represent." He kissed the sword and replaced it in the priest's hands.

"And this," said Urken, pointing towards Fuinur, "is one whom you must meet. He has proven a loyal and sturdy friend. I have placed him in difficult situation after difficult situation, with little explanation as to what was happening. Yet his support for me has never wavered.

"Fuinur, I apologize for my secret ways. Yet I felt I could do no other. Al-Gareth, I commend King Fuinur to you, and would have the three of us discuss what must happen on the morrow when we meet with Elessar."

The men put their heads together, and were soon deep in conversation.

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-06-2002, 03:25 PM

^^^^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^^^^

Frain politely asked Stonehelm for a short leave of absence to look around the city. His wish was granted, so long as it be quick.

Frain walked around the city and awe was in his eyes through the entire walk. Burin joined him at some point, with a cheerful look on his face.

Frain, good friend, I am inspired to sing. Burin stated simply.

Frain smiled, and knew what would come next. He had nearly forgotten Curin and Burin, yet he was glad to see one of them.

Right then. You can start. Frain said, and along they went laughing as they made up their own song:

"I've made it to my destination
My safe Haven.
I worked so hard to get to this location!
So glad it's over,
But I don't want it to end.
Just around the cavern's edge,
To our growing friendships I pledge!"

Burin gestured towards Frain.

"Hold my head up high,
Proud in this white sunny sky.
One group for one cause
Although at first there was
Hesitation and pause.
Through thick and thin,
With strangers and kin
We've learned so much
So much more to see
So much more I can be!
All in this one journey!"

Frain and Burin smiled, and laughed. People stared as though they were drunk. Children laughed at them. They didn't care.

After their stroll was finished, Frain went to find the House of Learning. He thought he might be able to help Hringa a bit.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

Belin

11-06-2002, 03:29 PM

*****Rivendell*****

Elladan's skills were many. He was a competent hunter, and a fine singer, warrior, and sculptor. He was a diplomat of the highest caliber, and his storytelling was unrivalled (except by Bilbo). He was widely considered a highly accomplished warrior, and universally considered an excellent cook.
What he was not, however, was a useful boatman. He would never have known the difference between an oar and any other large wooden pole, and Thule's persistent complaints about Elladan's grip on the thing were completely incomprehensible to him. "This way?" he asked.

"No!"

He sighed and continued attempting to muddle through. As far as he was concerned, his rowing was perfectly adequate--after all, the boat was staying afloat, if in a sadly wobbling manner, and moving forward--but Ciri, in her lack of foresight, had put him in a boat with two hobbits, whose eyes were wide with terror. Odo, who after his previous near-death experience was more that usually reluctant to enter a boat in the first place, sat trembling, and clutching pathetically at Brando's hand every time the boat rocked. Brando's young face held a resolute attempt to be a pillar of strength, but if he succeeded, it was only because pillars of strength of any age almost always look as if they wanted nothing better in life than some time in which they could indulge in the relief of looking miserable and nervous. Elrohir, in another vessel, seemed faintly amused. Elladan was offended.

Grimacing, but also humming to improve his concentration, he set back to his oar work. He really thought he was getting better, or should be. Did they really have to stare at him like that?

He lifted his head. In fact, they weren't staring at him at all, but Serin was. "Listen," called the dwarf to the hobbits, "are you all right?"

The were going to trade. He knew it. They wanted his boat to be full of people who knew how to swim. Elladan jabbed at the water with his oar.

Of course, he reflected, as the boat began to rock slowly and inexorably to one side, they were completely right. He would have advised the same. They were going to be quite late enough without drowning.

He reached out toward Brando and Odo as the boat finally inverted itself into the dark, star-filled waters, trying to catch the hobbits before they could be washed downstream.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

Alkanoonion

11-06-2002, 03:52 PM

***Harad/Umbar ***

hold

*Varda*

11-06-2002, 04:31 PM

***Shire/Rivendell/Blue Mountains***

Odo and Brando squealed slightly as the boat toppled over into the water. Elladan reached to grab them and swung the boat back over, before too much damage was done to either boat or hobbit.

The boats continued to float on in the shadowy darkness, but from the look on the hobbits faces Elladan could tell they were trading places the second they landed.

Indeed, when they landed, Elladan observed them going over to Serin and Orlo, and heard Serin's deep chuckle. The hobbits talked persuasively for a few moments, until he heard Serin murmur in assent. The hobbits ran back to him.

Serin laughed as he watched the hobbits run off. He had not been able to resist a slight chuckle when he watched the hobbits tipping over into the water, and their frightened squeals. He himself felt slightly cautious about being in a boat with Elladan, but perhaps the elf had learned a few things about rowing at this point.

The sky began to lighten, and once more they set off. It was still at least a day's journey to Minas Anor, and they must arrive soon.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

piosenniel

11-06-2002, 05:23 PM

***** DALE - Jarl/Bram *****

He looked at how the young man held himself and how he put himself forth in words, and deferred to Bram if necessary. It was a pleasant surprise! The King had done well to place his son under the tutelage of the innkeeper. A half smile creased Jarl's face, remembering another young man whose character had been polished, the rough edges smoothed by the very same man.

He clapped Bram on the back, grinning back at him. 'Let us sit out here in this pleasant courtyard and drink to each other's health and safe journey.'

Bram called for ale to be brought and a few dusty bottles of Dorwinion wine. Jarl was introduced all around, and after a few pleasantries, he drew Bram aside.

'Has the King shared with you what he wishes presented tomorrow to Elessar? I know that Girion no doubt carries instructions, but I do not wish to appear too eager to present the proposition myself. I would like him to do it, as would his Father, But I need to be informed of details so that I may advise him as needed.'

From the leather pouch at his belt, Bram pulled a copy of Dale's propositions which Bard had sent him. He had read it many times, and now sat back as Jarl studied it carefully. He noted that Jarl re-read one section several times, rubbing his jawline as he did. 'What disturbs you?' he asked.

'Not disturbs,' returned Jarl, 'excites me.' He leaned in close to Bram and detailed a short history for him of the aborted trip to Nurn to secure certain new trading contracts, and the finding of Al-Gareth. Bram asked him several pointed questions to clarify parts of the story, then narrowed his eyes, saying 'If only we had this Nurnian here, we could perhaps present a united request to Elessar.'

'But that's just it!' said Jarl quietly. 'He is here. In a private room, speaking to the southron Kings that brought me here.' he went on then to tell Bram of his suspicions concerning Al-Gareth. That he was probably placed high in the ruling hierarchy of Nurn somehow, perhaps even as high as King, though Jarl had no confirmation of this as yet.

'And why have you left him to the ministrations of the southrons?' asked Bram. 'Fuinur I have heard of, a straightforward man, fond of life's pleasures. But Urken, now that is a shadowed name. A warrior-priest, is he not, an old hand at the high game of political intrigue.'

'Come with me.' said Jarl, an idea forming in his mind. 'Let me introduce you to my fellow travellers. I think we may be able to offer them an invaluable service if we play our cards correctly.' He leaned in close to Bram's ear and spoke quietly. Bram nodded his head in agreement, then rose and excused himself from his companions, telling them he would soon rejoin them.

The two made their way back to the room where the men of Harad, Umbar, and Nurn were. They paused at the door, listening to the flow of voices within.

They heard Urken's vow to Al-Gareth:

"Al-gareth, I acknowledge you as sovereign lord of Nurn, and pledge my wealth and honor to that goal. And my guild will support you to that end, down to the last warrior-priest."

And Al-Gareth's clear reply:

"I will take your allegiance and support as my own, and the guild which you represent."

They heard how Urken now brought Fuinur into the circle of support.

As the voices fell lower, into the rhythms of conversation, Jarl opened the door and entered with Bram following. The two Dalesmen approached Al-Gareth and bowed, then turned and bowed also to Fuinur and Urken.

'Gentlemen.' said Jarl standing back by Bram. 'This is my associate, Bram. We would like to extend to you the aid of Dale, if you will, so that you may accomplish what I believe you you intend to do. We heard what you have pledged, Urken, to Nurn's King, and we heard Nurn's reply. We, of Dale, would also like to support you in your rightful claim to the throne, asking only in return that we be allowed to trade with your country.' He turned to Urken and to Fuinur. 'And we would like to extend the same offer to you, if you would take it.'

'And what can you do for us now, Jarl of Dale and Bram?' came the deep, quiet voice of Urken, as he gazed speculatively at the two men.

Bram looked at Jarl and arched his eyebrows, deferring to him.

'I believe it is possible that we can offer you the ear of the King, mayhap this night, if we move quickly enough.'

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Tharkûn

11-06-2002, 05:27 PM

*****Dale-Garlin*****

Garlin had realized at the start of the voyage that, though he was a skilled swordsman (according to Ethar, at least), he was not a very good sea man. The constant tipping and rocking of the boat had not done much for his stomach, which had already been queasy with worry for his friend Ethar (and still was, to some extent, since he still was slightly worried that Ethar?s leg hadn?t totally recovered). After about three hours on the ship (and one half of those spent leaning over the rail), he had retired to the below-decks area, where he at least couldn't see the boat's rocking. Now, however, with all the commotion outside, he decided to risk one last hour or so on the deck, if just to see what all the commotion was about.

He couldn't believe his eyes. The great white tower rose above the heavens, it seemed. There were at least seven great tiers surrounding the tower (each almost holding it's own city), which, in the tales he had been told as a child of the Great War, had helped to repel Orcish invaders many times. Then, with a shout from the captain, the ship landed.

VanimaEdhel

11-06-2002, 05:41 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

The days passed by quickly. The troops met no more resistance along the way.

After many days, they saw a city looming up in front of them. It was larger than any other city they had yet encountered on their journey.

"Minas Anor," Lovek breathed.

The men moved forward, but were stopped by a guard.

"Who are you? And what brings you to this land?" the guard asked somberly.

"We come from the land of Rhûn," Kasteni said, formally, "We were informed that we were needed for a council of some variety."

The guard glared briefly at the men, an obvious showing of contempt for the men of the East.

"Fine," he finally said, "Proceed."

He stepped out of the way, and the troop proceeded into the city. They looked around them at the city as they passed through.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

Belin

11-06-2002, 06:36 PM

*****Rivendell*****

The day was not as miserable as Elladan had feared. Rowing was not, in fact, quite the impossible task it had seemed, and Serin was an agreeable companion, and they passed through a grove at the hottest part of the day. As the sun began its journey downward, the dwarf took over at the oars. Elladan, resting in the greatest relief, and singing again (they were all getting used to his strange little forays into the musical, his thinking device), looked ahead.

It was not exactly the harsh land he'd remembered. Aragorn's year as king seemed to have done it some good. It was green again, and smelled like life.

And there, ahead of them, white in the slowly reddening sky, was the city.

Elladan stopped his song and whistled quietly to Elrohir, who turned his head around to see it as well. The brothers exchanged a look of-- well, Serin wasn't sure. Perhaps it was some strange species of Elven apprehension. But Elladan was smiling slightly, and Elrohir reached behind him to poke the dozing Orlo. Soon all the hobbits had been awakened, and even Hardo was staring at the city in wonderment.

There was silence, broken only by the river, and eventually by the sound of a small hobbit's voice: "That's where the King lives."

Elenna

11-06-2002, 07:35 PM

Ciri looked at the city looming up on the horizon. As they came closer and closer, she was overcome by a sense of wonder. Even though she, as a High Elf, had seen the wonders of the Undying Lands, and had dwelt in Lindon for some time, this city amazed her.

"That is where the King lives," a hobbit voice chimed from a boat behind her. She smiled.

"Yes, friend. King Elessar lives in that grand City. And before long, we shall be there too."

Child of the 7th Age

11-06-2002, 11:55 PM

Harad/Umbar

Alk's post

It was beautiful, truly a city of a great nation, thought Herumir, as he gazed for the first time on the city Minas Anor. Herumir was lost in thought and remembered all that he knew of the ancient city. The seven-tiered citadel of the Kings of Gondor was known by several names, the original being Minas Anor. After the fall of Osgiliath, the 'Fortress of the Stars', the name had changed to Minas Tirith and become the seat of power in the South-kingdom.

Herumir vowed that one day soon his county would be just as great if not greater. With these thoughts in his mind, Herumir left his companions camped outside and proceeded to make his way down into the city.

****

The city was huge and Herumir was having a marvellous time playing at being trader. He went from shop to shop selling all the items that he had purchased. Already Herumir had doubled his original outlay. Feeling pleased with his activities and getting tired, Herumir decided to have a rest. Besides, he was thirsty.

Looking around Herumir noticed a sign 'The Mischievous Merman', “Ah, this looks like a promising bar,” he said to himself. “Time for a drink” Walking into the bar, Herumir was startled,for making his way across the room was Fuinur, carrying two large flagons to a private room.

Herumir made his way to the bar and procured two flagons. Raising one to his lips he drained it in one gulp. Setting the empty flagon down, he picked up the second flagon and carried it out to the private room.

Inside the room was Fuinur, Urken and four other men whom Herumir did not know.
The group did not notice the new arrival, with their heads together deep in conversation.

Walking up to the table, Herumir called out.
“What, no welcome for a long lost companion?”

Fuinur looked up from the discussion and noticed Herumir for the first time. “About time you showed your face come and join us.”

Herumir looked at Urken and the strangers with a question in his eyes. Noticing his reaction, Fuinur replied “ Its alright, Urken has proven himself more than trustworthy since we parted and every one in this room is a frend to our country's cause. Come and join us and I will explain.”

Fuinur turned to the group and proceeded to introduce Herumir the newest members of the party. "I have the honour of introducing Bram associate of Jarl; Jarl of Dale; and Al-Gareth, the soon to be sovereign lord of Nurn. As each man's name was mentioned Herumir nodded. Fuinur continued to outline the group’s history. Herumir bowed low to Al-Gareth.

“I welcome you Al-Gareth and also pledge my support to your cause in return for future friendship and trade between out countries. I pledge my soldiers and whatever money my coffers can spare. Also to help you I will even lend you my Oliphaunts and several ships. All I ask in return is for you to agree to trade with my country and when needed to support us in times of conflict. Let us all join together in making our lands truly great”

Fuinur was amazed at Herumir's words and felt great pride in his fellow monarch.

Looking around the room and thinking of the future benefits for trade, Fuinur said, "I suggest that we form a formal council and have open trade and friendship between our respective countries and to that end I also pledged my support to Al-Gareth in his claim. Let us return stability to the region, let us reap the benefits of peace let us cast off the stigma of the past and make our countries truly great. What say you my friends?"

Sharon's post

Urken responded in the affirmative. He was pleased to hear such an open avowal of support for the kingship of Al-Gareth. Moreover, an informal council to discuss common concerns between Harad, Umber, and Nurn could prove useful in furthering trade and promoting other areas of cooperation.

But all this might come to naught unless they could secure a private audience with the king. The dinner party, which was planned for the next evening, would be an enjoyable social affair, but of limited use in attempting to implement more serious measures. He had heard the suggestion by Bram and Jarl that they might have some avenues to securing the group such a private audience. He had nodded his approval and indicated that such a feat, if they could bring it about, would surely earn Dale an advantageous position in both Umba and Harad in regard to the coffee trade. Urken was also quite aware that Fuinur and Herkumir were two of the largest plantation owners in the region. He would have little trouble delivering on that promise.

The conversation was continuing on how Harad and Nurn might identify areas of common interest and agreement. Urken, however, had his eyes and ears on something else. He had seen Jarl leaned over and whisper a few words into the ear of Bram. It appeared that something was indeed afoot. The two men got up and began slowly walking towards the door. Urken kept his eyes on them, until they disappeared out the door.

Pio's post

Jarl excused himself from the group, taking Bram with him. It was early afternoon and if they hurried, they could catch Isilmir at his offices on the seventh level. As the Minister of Trade, and well known to
both of them, he could certainly get them access to Elessar, if only they pleaded their case well.

They made their way quickly up the wide terraced areas of the city. Still it took time, as even the most direct path involved the constant traversing of the gates from one side of the great bastion of stone
which jutted out from the mountain like a ship’s keel to the other side, and then through another gate.

Both were hot and sweaty by the time they had made it to the sixth level, guarded by the Riders. A tall man, in the livery of the King, challenged them as they approached, asking them to state their names and their
business. He conferred with his captain, and after afew questions from him, the Dalesmen were allowed to pass through the tunnel to the Citadel itself.

The Minister of Trade’s offices had always been located in one of the taller buildings located to the southeast of the fountain, and the office, itself, was on the top floor, with a clear view of the Anduin. The
view was better now that Elessar had taken the throne. No longer did the smokes and fires of Mordor provide the backdrop for the picture.

A few words to the Minister’s assistant and the two men passed in to the inner suite of rooms. The outer rooms were always immaculate, light and airy, and filled with the most beautiful of wares from all the
areas of Middle-earth who traded with Gondor. Rugs from Eriador graced the floors, metalwork set with jewels and crafted by the Dwarves were artfully arranged on low wooden tables throughout the room. Silver wine and goblet sets from the Elves were set among the groupings of beechwood chairs and filled, as was the custom, with good wine. It was a setting that brought calm and ease to the minds of those waiting to see the Minister.

His own offices, in contrast, were quite different. Papers and books were piled in discrete heaps and maps of all the areas and the goods produced by each were tacked to the wall in apparent random order. A person
entering this room would think how cluttered and inefficient this man must be, and how ineffective. He played upon this discrepancy between the outer surroundings and the keen calculating mind of the man within, and often found himself gaining more information than the person speaking with him intended.

He looked up as Jarl and Bram entered. A smile played about his lips. ‘I do not recall either of your names on the list for the audience with Elessar tomorrow. My
assistant spoke of you requiring access to the King. Is that what you wished me to do?’ He steepled his fingers and looked at them speculatively. ‘Not exactly.’ said Bram, pulling up a chair next to the desk. The Minister motioned for Jarl to sit also.
‘We need a large favor from you, one that must happen quickly. And we are willing to make some fair-sized concessions to you if you can do this for us.’

‘Is this true from you also, Jarl,’ asked the minister further. ‘Yes.’ came the immediate reply. The Minister leaned back in his chair and regarded the two
men before him. ‘Tell me what it is you need.’ he said, that I might decide what is fair trade for my services.’ Bram rose from his chair and closed the door firmly as Jarl leaned forward to speak with Isilmir.

‘It all began with King Bard’s decision to send me south to open up and secure trading alliances in the Far South,’ he began . . .

They talked for over an hour. Isilmir questioned Jarl closely on each point and each person involved. When Jarl was done at last, and the last bit of information
gleaned from him, Isilmir called for chilled wine to refresh his guests. He poured cups of wine for each of them, and downed his with a single drink.

The two men watched as he slicked back his hair and shook out the wrinkles of his official robe, cast unceremoniously over a chest the last time he had worn it. Then bidding them wait until his return, he strode
from his office, down the wide stairs and out the door to the Fountain courtyard.

A few more steps brought him to the White Tower. He entered quickly, and spoke quietly with one of the guardsmen. He sighed, wishing he were in better shape when the man told him of the King’s location.

As quickly as his legs and lungs would allow, he climbed the spiral staircase to the Hidden Chamber.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Susan Delgado

11-07-2002, 01:27 AM

Though he knew he must look a fool in front of the Elves (whose capabilities he'd come to admire), Hardo couldn't help but stare in wonder at the city rising before them. He'd never seen such magnificence in his life.

piosenniel

11-07-2002, 03:20 AM

***** DALE - Elessar/Isilmir *****

‘I could hear you by the twentieth step, Isilmir!’ came the rich, deep voice within the room. ‘I am improving, then, O Fit One.’ wheezed the Minister. ‘Just last week you said you could hear my hard breathing as I crossed the courtyard.’

Isilimir entered the Tower ‘s top room, and stood panting against the door frame for several minutes, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his gown. He took the glass of cool water offered from Elessar’s hand and drank half of it in one gulp. The King waved him to a seat, busy with a chart he had been marking.

Not one to stand on ceremony, Isilmir divested himself of his gown, and sat down watching the man as he worked. From long experience, he had found it best to let the King direct the course of the conversation. He dipped the edge of one of the gown’s sleeves in the remaining water and wiped the back of his neck, hoping the slight breeze from the Tower’s windows might cool him.

Dressed as he was, Elessar still looked the part of a weather beaten Ranger. He had on old black breeches with a comfortable dark green tunic that allowed him the freedom of movement he so favored. He still wore his high boots of supple leather that fit him so well. But now they were clean, no traces of muddy travel clung to them. His hair was no longer shaggy, but now there showed more flecks of grey against the raven dark of it. These days of peace had softened his face a little; it was less pale, less stern. But still the keen, grey eyes of Strider shone from it.

He sat on the edge of the desk, and regarded Isilmir closely. ‘What prompts Gondor’s Minister of Trade to seek the King in his high Tower. Something of importance to the economy, I would think, since it forced you to climb all those stairs to reach me.’

‘I came to ask a favor of you.’ said Isilmir simply. ‘One which will set right a wrong, and will bring Gondor some rich opportunities in certain areas of trade.’

‘A wrong undone and the promise of monies.’ chuckled Elessar . ‘ What more could the King hope for?. He drew a chair up close to Isilmir, and sat astraddle, his forearms and head resting on the back of it. ‘Let us have this “simple” favor from you. We will decide then what we will do about it.’

Isilmir poured himself a fresh glass of water and drank it greedily. Then, point by point, Elessar drew out from him the story of the Southrons and the men of Dale and the heir to the throne of Nurn. His face was impassive as he took it in, though there was a momentary narrowing of the eyes when Isilmir spoke of conditions in Nurn, and how the man had been hunted like an animal. The King was silent when Isilmir had finished speaking. He had risen from his chair and stood gazing out the slit window toward the east. When he spoke at last, his voice was so low and soft , that Isilmir almost missed his words.

‘Bring them to me this day. Come to the North Door of the Tower when the sun has just set and up to the second conference room. I will hear them out.’

Isilmir thanked him for his time and consideration then sped back down the stairs. Elessar stood for a long time, looking out that eastern window, watching the long shadows of clouds slide over the mountains and into Mordor.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Child of the 7th Age

11-07-2002, 08:11 AM

Harad/Umbar

As the sun rose high over the fabled towers of Minas Anor, the small band of travelers settled in at 'The Mischievous Merman'. The men had their retainers retrieve their belongings from the dock and secure beds at the inn. Fuinur, Herumir, and al-Gareth had spent long hours engaged in discussion on the fate of their respective countries. Then they had gone on to more immediate matters, including the steps that would need to be taken to guarantee Al-Gareth's claim to the throne of Nurn. There was much talk of military assistance, troop deployments, the use of oliphaunt warriors and other related issues.

But, just as they prepared to go to lunch and think on the affairs of the day, Bram and Jarl had returned to the inn, with the welcome news of what was planned for the evening. Urken cast him a shrewd glance. The man was indeed no fool. He had promised much, but he apparently had the connections to produce results.

Urken made a mental note to go speak with the pair later that night to begin discussing the future direction of the coffee and spice trade. He was no trader himself, but he knew a few of the measures which must be carried out before envoys could be formally recognized or trading posts established.

That afternoon, each of the men had gone their own path, enjoying the multitide of pleasures and pastimes available in the city. Fuinur and Herumir had solemnly promised that they would restrain themselves from overindulgece. As Fuinur so aptly put it, "Women are women, and business is business, and, where the two conflict, the women must go." All had agreed to meet back together in the antechamber of Elessar's audience room later that evening.

Each spent the day in the activity of their choice. Gramil and Jarl had meetings with potential clients. Fuinur and Herumir visited a number of friendly inns and managed to make conections with several well connected men of Gondor. They even wrangled an invitation to visit and inspect a garrison of troops on the outskirts of the city. Urken found his way into the archives of the city, both for the materials he could review and to meet with a number of scholars whom he had not seen in many a long year.

As evening approached, each made their way to the agreed upon meeting place. As they waited in the antechamber, Fuinur and Herumir paced back and forth. Urken and the other trading representatives looked oddly intense, as each went over in his head the points they intended to make. Only Al-Gareth, with his cool and relaxed manner, looked to be truly comfortable with the situation.

A guardsman came into the room and bowed low, flourishing his hand towards the beckoning door, "Lord Elessar is ready to see you. Please step forward into the audience chamber."

With those words, the guardsman turned his back and walked briskly forward. The party followed behind him, emerging into a spacious and pleasant chamber of enormous size. It was simply but tastefully adorned. The furnishings and flavour of the room gav some hint of the Elvish background of the king and his consort. The men strode in and, seeing the king, dropped respectfully to the ground.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel

11-07-2002, 09:18 AM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl breathed a huge sigh of relief at the Minister's words. The King had agreed to see them! Already his mind was moving through lists of things that needed to be done before the meeting this evening. He and Bram took their leave of Isilmir, who asked that they both come to him after the General Audience tomorrow. Once the hubbub and panoply were over he told them, they would discuss the contracts in payment from Dale to Gondor for his services.

The two men hurried back to the inn. Bram had agreed to stay with the contingent he had brought, to act as their further guide as needed. Jarl would be picking up Prince Girion to bring him up to speed on the negotiations, and to have him represent Dale at this evening’s meeting with the King, with Jarl at his side to advise him.

He found the Prince in the courtyard with the others of his group. Stonehelm was in the midst of some rollicking story, and the laughter of the incredulous companions rang through the air. Jarl caught the Prince’s eye and motioned for him to leave the group and come speak with him.

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Girion approached him. ‘You should have heard him, Jarl! Who knew that Dwarves could be such a daring and funny people!’

‘I’m glad that you are cementing such good friendships.’ commented Jarl. ‘They will stand you in good stead when you are King.’

He took Girion’s elbow and led him further from the group to a more private setting. The young man’s laughing countenance turned serious as Jarl gave him a brief background to the new ties now being formed between Dale and the men of the South, and apprised him of the state of politics within Nurn especially with respect to Al-Gareth.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Girion as he realized the path Al-Gareth had already taken and endured as he strove for the rightful rulership of his country. A shift in perspective took place within his mind, as he began to understand the depth of commitment a true King must take to see his country and people set on their best path.

When Jarl was done, Girion thanked him, and asked that he might meet the Men of Harad, Umbar, and Nurn. He would offer his own services and support, such as they were.

Jarl smiled at these words, and placed his arm on the younger man’s shoulder. ‘The King, your Father, would be very proud of you today.’

He led Girion within to meet and speak with the Southrons. In just a few short hours, then, it would be time to stand before the King.

Nevtalathiel's Post

Girion had been given just a few minutes to change his clothes before going to the small audience with Elessar. He wondered what he should wear. It was obvious he couldn’t wear any of the clothes he’d been travelling in; they were muddy, torn, and in the case of one pair of breeches, burnt through where the spider blood had hit them. He surveyed the clothes he had brought for the audience, but none of them seemed appropriate now; they were too gaudy, too ostentatious. He took out a hat with a feather in it and regarded it with disdain before tossing it
aside. What had been thinking when he had packed? He had wanted to impress the King, he remembered, to show that he too was royal, powerful, important.

He smiled ruefully at the memory of how naïve he had been to think the other leaders would judge him on his clothes. It would not be what he wore to the audience which would impress them, he now saw, but what he
said and how he said it. That was worrying him too, but unlike his clothes, there was little he could do about it.

He took a deep breath and hoped what he had to say would be acceptable; Jarl had given him a quick briefing, and he had been able to surprise him with the depth of knowledge he had absorbed from Bram. He knew all
that he could have learned in such a short time, but he was still not sure it was enough.

“Once upon a time,” He thought, “I would have been content that half of what I know now was too much.”

“And you would have been embarrassed when someone asked an obvious question you could not answer.” He replied to himself and knew that he was right; better to know too much than not enough.

He opened the door of his room to see Jarl waiting for him in the corridor.

“Sorry Jarl, I don’t have anything suitable to change into, this will have to do for now, and I’ll get some clothes washed before the audience proper.” Was all he said.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Mithadan

11-07-2002, 09:31 AM

***HARAD/UMBAR/DALE***

King Elessar stood before them and looked down upon the kneeling men. He wore the Elendilmir upon his brows and was dressed in dark blue. A silver mantle covered his shoulders and was fastened at his throat with a silver brooch in the shape of an eagle in which a mighty green stone flashed with an inner fire.

"Arise, my guests," he said. When they stood, to their great surprise, Elessar bent his knee and bowed before them. "It is an honor to have you in my city. The people of Dale are always welcome here and have long been our friends. But too much time has passed since representatives of the lands to the South have come here in peace. Let us set aside our old disputes and speak frankly of our hopes for the future. For the days of the sword have gone by and it is now time for healing."

He rose to his feet and motioned Urken, Fuinir, Herumir, Al-Gareth, Girion and Jarl to sit at his table and be at ease. He poured goblets of wine for each of them and when all had drained their cups, he smiled. "Now, I am told that I am in the presence no less than three kings, a prince, a high priest and the finest trader in all the lands. We have much to discuss."

He turned to the Southern Kings and added, "I know that many disputes run in your lands and that to have peace each of you must take action to unite your peoples. You have much to do. So I ask you, how can the North Kingdoms help? What aid do you require..."

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

piosenniel

11-07-2002, 09:38 AM

***** DALE – Jarl/Elessar *****

Jarl could sense the tension in the room as the men sat down. They drained the cups of wine that Elessar had poured for them, then Urken rose up from his chair as spokesman, to present their concerns. He delved briefly into the prophecies he had come across concerning the union of the Southern kingdoms, saying that he believed Al-Gareth to be the one spoken of in the verses. He told Elessar of the support, both military and monetary which he had offered to the King of Nurn.

Urken then nodded to Fuinur, who presented his country’s greetings to Elessar, saying that as King, he would be glad to look to Gondor as a new ally both politically and with regard to trade. ‘Harad and Umbar have already begun discussions with Dale and Nurn, for what will be a very lucrative and powerful trade alliance. We would be glad of Gondor’s support of it and participation in it.’ Last, he dealt with the commitments he had made to Nurn’s King to see him on the throne. Herumir followed suit, repeating much of what Fuinur had already detailed.

Then Girion rose to speak for Dale. Elessar noted how the young man fought his nervousness, and at a few soft spoken words from Jarl, regained his composure. The King turned his full attention to the fledgling King of Dale, and smiled to put him at his ease. The Prince gave his country’s greetings to the high King, then also spoke of their commitment to placing Al-Gareth on the throne of Nurn. Their troops were few, he noted, but the promised monies and political support would be in place as Al-Gareth needed them. He sat down once he had finished, and Jarl nodded to him that he had done well.

Last to stand before the King was Al-Gareth. The two men took the measure of each other, and neither found the other wanting. Al-Gareth spoke simply and briefly of his concern for his country and his people. He wished to bring Nurn to its rightful place among the Free Lands and Free Peoples of Middle-earth. They would be greatful, were Gondor to support them, but he would understand if Gondor’s concerns could not see their way to allow this at this time. He only asked that Gondor would not stand in his way as he sought the throne. He thanked Elessar for taking time to see him, then he sat back down, and sipped at the wine Fuinur had poured for him.

Elessar spread his hands on the table, and rose from his chair. He leaned toward the group gathered before him, and considered each one before he spoke.

‘I have heard each of you now, speak well and fully on this joint concern. It pleases me that you have laid aside your differences to unite for this. There will be a long, hard battle for this to happen. It will be fought on many fronts, and not just militarily. I fear it will be costly both in men, as well as monies, and may strain the relations with other countries who see the cause in the light of their own needs.’ He paused, and the room grew silent as the group held their breath awaiting his next thought. He chose his words carefully, looking at each of the countries representatives. His eyes came to rest at last on Al-Gareth.

‘You have my personal offer of support.’ he said clearly, ‘And the support of Gondor as well. I will meet with my Ministers tomorrow, early. And once the general Audience with all the countries is finished, we will be able to present to you all a detailed plan of how Gondor can give its aid.’

A collective murmur of appreciation and relief went up, and each rose and thanked the King once again for his time and his consideration. Then Elessar dismissed them, saying that he had other business to attend to that night.

It was a less tense group that made its way back to the Inn. Fuinur called out to the serving man as the entered the common room. ‘Drinks all around for myself, my friends, and all here. We’ve had a good night! It’s time to celebrate!’

‘Just keep a watch on your tongue!’ reminded Urken, downing a glass of spirits as he winked at Fuinur.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

*Varda*

11-07-2002, 10:55 AM

***Rivendell/Shire/Blue Mountains***

Serin's eyes widened as they walked up the the great city. Amidst the feelings of relief that they had managed to reach Minas Anor in time, he was awestruck by the magnificence and the splendour of the place.

The gates opened and the party proceeded in, continuing to gaze around them in amazement. In the case of the younger hobbits, this was often accompanied by small squeals of surprise, then quietened, feeling themselves slightly out of place in this city.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

Ringwraith Number Two

11-07-2002, 11:44 AM

******The Shire/Blue Mountains/Rivendell*****

After all the food shortage, the hard, cold nights, and the dampness that was ever-present whilst travelling in the boats, the beautiful city was certainly a sight worth seeing. Orlo's eyes widened in amazement as he took in his gleaming surroundings. He was awestruck, as was the rest of the party, even the High Elves. His eyes were momentarily diverted from the beautiful sight of the city by a messenger coming towards them.

"Welcome, folk of Rivendell, the Blue Mountains and The Shire!" he said.

"Our greetings to the King." Ciri smiled and stepped forward. The chiefs of the separate parties did the same.

"Please, follow me." The messenger set off, and the awestruck party followed.

*Varda*

11-07-2002, 11:57 AM

***Blue Mountains***

Upon reaching Elessar's halls, they were informed that he was already in discussions with other nations. They were shown to their rooms, and the hobbits were delighted to find that they had hobbit sized beds, and everything was to their liking.

Theron, Mikhelm and Serin left their room, and went out to have a smoke. As chance would have it, 3 Erebor dwarves were out there as well, and gave each other a friendly smile. The dwarves introduced themselves as Frain, Hringa and Durgan, and got along like old friends. That is, until Mikhelm mentioned Moria.

"The kingdom of Moria should be in the hands of the dwarves of the Blue Mountains again! We would make it a city to be in awe of!" Serin nodded in assent, and the other dwarves had fiery gazes under their bushy eyebrows.

"And tell me, what claim does the Blue Mountains have to the halls of Moria?" growled Frain, stepping forward.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-07-2002, 04:21 PM

^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^

"And tell me, what claim does the Blue Mountains have to the halls of Moria?" growled Frain, stepping forward.

Frain laughed inwardly at his bravery. What was he doing? Growling at his distant kin? Well, Moria was as good as theirs, or at least Frain thought so. The Blue Mountain fellows had come out for a smoke, just as he, Durgan, and Hringa had left the Learning building. After a long search, they had found a few documents that might prove useful at the general Audience that night.

Frain waited for an answer.

*Varda*

11-07-2002, 04:29 PM

***Blue Mountains***

Serin's face flushed red.

"Balin, LORD of Moria, lived in the Blue Mountains for most of his life, as did many dwarves who left for Moria, and perished there. It was only near the end of his life that he lived in Erebor, that does not entitle you to Moria!" Serin growled.

The dwarves felt angry, and Frain made a move forward, then paused.

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-07-2002, 04:49 PM

^^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^^

What am I doing? Frain asked himself as he took a step foward in his anger. This was not the way to do things.

'I will not fight with you. At least not yet. You will find when the Audience starts that Dwarves of Erebor are not to be trifled with. Not when we know what belongs to us. I spare thee my anger until the Audience.' Frain said, smiling inwardly at the Blue Mountain folk.

Frain turned a little and whispered to Durgan and Hringa. Fear not! my kin...we know Moria is ours. You still have the papers, right Hringa? Hringa nodded in reply.

Thats what this Audience is for, is it not? Frain thought to himself.

Bêthberry

11-07-2002, 04:51 PM

^ ^ ^ ^ Erebor/ Lonely Mountain ^ ^ ^ ^

HOLDING *chortles*

*Varda*

11-07-2002, 05:01 PM

***Blue Mountains***

"We do not wish to fight," Theron pointed out, trying to be calm. "We only wish to reclaim what is ours. We will wait and hear your reasoning at the Audience." With that, he, Mikhelm, and Serin turned away and went to explore the city.

"Theron, I think they have papers of some sort, giving them a claim to Moria..." Mikhelm said. Theron glanced back at the other dwarves behind them, who seemed to be in deep discussion.

"Mikhelm, you may have a point." Theron said. "Perhaps we should head down to the Learning Room, we may be able to find papers to help us argue our point."

The three dwarves eventually found their way to the Learning Room, where they were eventually swamped under heaps of paper, but to no avail.

"We'd be better off back in the Blue Mountains for this sort of thing," Serin grumbled. "What use is all this? We must just argue against whatever they have to throw at us, with all the strength we have. Perhaps Elessar will see our side, and we can negotiate. Balin was from the Blue Mountains after all, his ancestors lived there for years after Smaug settled on Erebor. Surely we have some claim? In any case, Balin is related to me, albeit distantly."

The dwarves sighed pensively, before heading back out into the sunlight, to absorb the beauty of the city before the Audience began.

Aylwen Dreamsong

11-07-2002, 05:12 PM

^^^^^^Erebor^^^^^^

Frain turned and Durgan and Hringa followed the almost-fuming dwarf.

Well, at least we have the papers, right? Hringa pointed out.

Yes, and besides, Balin was only the Lord of Moria for how long? Durgan stated in his familiar low grumble.

Yes, I think we have enough to prove that Moria is ours. Durgan continued after his last comment recieved no answer.

Wait a minute. We are all dwarves, us and the Blue Mountain fellows, right? Hringa asked in a frail voice, wondering if his companions new where he was going with this.

Yes! Mayhaps they would agree to share the profits and the room in Moria! Dwarves are a stout folk, what coudl go wrong! Frain suddenly exclaimed as they walked, suddenly snapping out of his thoughts. Hringa and Durgan opened their mouths to answer.No, no, no...that won't do. If we delagates can't handle a simple thing like Moria, how will our people be able to live together? Frain seemed to be arguing with himself, for he wasn't really listening to his companions.

Frain strode quickly down the cobbled road. Durgan and Hringa ran to catch up. They smiled as they saw Frain stop a few yards ahead of them and cry out.

Yes! Yes! Yes!! My friends! What of Gimli? Maybe we should look for him? Ask him for advice?! Frain's friends now looked at him as though he was going mad, but agreed. Frain claimed it was the stress.

*hums the tune of 'we're off to see the wizard (dwarf?)'*

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

VanimaEdhel

11-07-2002, 05:20 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

There was a knock on Lovek's door. It was one of Kasteni's guards.

"Lovek," the guard said, "Kasteni wishes to have words with you."

Kasteni rose from where he sat, shining his sword, and quickly made his way down the hall to his Advisor's room. He briskly rapped on the door.

"Come in, Lovek," came Kasteni's voice. Lovek opened the door.

"You sent for me, Advisor?" Lovek asked.

"Of course, Lovek," Kasteni said, "Can you run an errand for me?"

Lovek bristled at being treated like an messenger boy. His breath quickened a little.

"Calm, Lovek," Kasteni said, seeing this reaction, "I wish for you to go and see if the council has begun yet. As we had so little time, I did not stop to ask when it would begin. If we are late, hurry back and inform me of our tardiness. Then please fetch Ulwyte and meet me at the council."

"Yes, Advisor," Lovek said. He briskly walked down the hall, his boots making a heavy clanging against the floor. Many that walked around him quickly moved out of his way, his menacing looks intimidating them. Soon, he saw two guards standing outside a door.

"Has the meeting begun?" Lovek asked, curtly. These were men of this region; men not to be trusted.

"Who desires this information?" one guard asked in an unfriendly tone.

"Kasteni, the Advisor of the company from Rhûn," Lovek said.

The two guards exchanged bitter glances, and Lovek glowered at them as they did so. Finally, one turned back to Lovek and spoke.

"It began some time ago. You are quite late."

"Well," Lovek responded, "If we had been informed of the time to arrive, we would have been punctual."

At that, he turned on his heel and walked back to Kasteni's room. He knocked.

"Come in," Kasteni called. Lovek walked in.

"They have started," Lovek said, hotly, still offended at his treatment by the guards.

"Fine. Go get Ulwyte and meet me in the Council Room," Kasteni said.

"Yes, Advisor."

Lovek exited and made his way to Ulwyte's chamber. He glared at the door for a second, for he was still not at all fond of this young soldier, then knocked.

"Who calls?" Ulwyte's voice came from inside.

"It is Lovek. Kasteni says we must go to the Council Room. It seems that they began already."

There came the sound of a sigh, then the door opened. Ulwyte and Lovek walked down the hall and made their way to the Council Room. There, the two guards, still grimacing at the Rhûn inhabitants, opened the door. Kasteni was already seated and the people were all speaking.

Many races had not been seen on peaceful terms by Lovek. He looked at the Dwarves and Elves and Men that sat around in a circle, fairly calm. Lovek was taken aback at how tranquil they seemed, compared to his life of training and work at home. He then saw that a Man was staring at him. The man had bright eyes.

"You are the others that your companion spoke of?" the man said.

Kasteni rose and turned to Lovek and Ulwyte.

"This," Kasteni said, gesturing to the man and indication that he should be treated with respect, "Is King Elessar." Then, to the King, "Your Highness, these are my travelling companions and aids, Ulwyte and Lovek."

The King nodded and Lovek and Ulwyte quickly moved into the room. The doors close shut behind them. Lovek was taken aback by the majesty of this King. He had always pictured these men and their kings as slovenly rebels, but this man was obviously not so. Lovek bowed a bit numbly, as did Ulwyte, then they silently took their seats.

Lovek leaned over to Ulwyte, "Do not speak until you are sure of what you are saying," he whispered, "And say nothing that will hurt our nation and people in the future."

Lovek turned to the others and listened, trying to suppress the great curiosity and feigning a menacing disapproval of the meeting.

Marileangorifurnimaluim

11-07-2002, 07:20 PM

**** Harad/Umbar - Al-Gareth & Gramil ****

‘You have my personal offer of support.’ he said clearly, ‘And the support of Gondor as well. I will meet with my Ministers tomorrow, early. And once the general Audience with all the countries is finished, we will be able to present to you all a detailed plan of how Gondor can give its aid.’

Al-Gareth's eyes fell as he heard the words, bowed under the weight of what it meant. It was not certain Nurn was free, no, nothing was certain. But for the first time there was more than just hope. His eyes lifted and he met those of King Elessar, King of Gondor; he saw more than just a powerful ally in that steady gaze. Here was one he could trust.

Though it had seemed so long, so much rested upon the outcome of this Audience, this pivot point of the future of three kingdoms, it was in reality surprisingly brief. King Elessar did not dither in his decisions.

King Fuinur and Herumir were heading in their own directions, with talk of wine and celebration. Jarl had matters of his own to attend, concerning the son of the King of Dale. Al-Gareth wanted to learn more of the lad. Jarl hadn't mentioned him in their travels, but the young man had a ready smile and easy manner Al-Gareth liked immediately. Informal and familiar, like much of Nurn. And they were of an age. Al-Gareth, if he saw his throne, would see Girion become king in turn.

In the entry hall to the audience chamber, Urkan nodded to Al-Gareth, once, a light of satisfaction and certainty in his face. Urkan for one had no doubts of the outcome of the coming conflict; for him the strength of prophecy declared it done.

As Al-Gareth strode from the hall, Al-Hafez fell in step easily behind him. They went down the marble stairs, out into the open air. A small white tree bloomed in a carefully tended courtyard, seemingly surrounded on all sides by sky. Al-Hafez didn't ask how it had gone. He knew.

There was much to be done. They needed to gather Al-Gareth's network of spies. There were troop movements, strategy and supplies to plan, but that could come later. For now Al-Gareth had another matter to attend to. There had been one missing from the Audience.

He sought out young Garlin and Ethar, as inseperable and as much troule as ever. Ethar pointed him to a thin, tall figure, two levels up in the palace.

Al-Gareth found Gramil leaning on a railing, staring southeast. Seagulls danced in the breeze below their dizzying height. From here they could see the thin brown line of the Harad road, one of the great works of Gramil's people.

"You did not come." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Gramil smiled.

"I am not an important man," Gramil said mildly. "It's not my place to trouble the councils of the great. I am just a trader. And a retired one at that. I've only done what I had to - what anyone would do."

Al-Gareth turned east, towards the dark of the mountains which marked the borders of his country. He was getting used to thinking of it as his country. No, not anyone, he thought.

He squeezed Gramil on the shoulder and said, "Thank you."

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

Isilya

11-08-2002, 03:27 PM

******MIRKWOOD CONTINGENT******

The journey in the ship had not been gentle on Isilya, after living on that ship, she was enthralled to finally be on land again. After a short time, in which she collected what was left of her nerves, she and Nefros set off in search of a long needed good meal. Isilya wanted to go and explore Minas Anor, to see if it was as awe-inspiring as she had imagined it to be, but Nefros held her back, telling her that she needed to be tended to medically before she got into any trouble.

"How do you intend to persuade Prince Legolas to return?", Nefros asked.

Isilya nearly choked on her food.
"How did you know about that? Did Orodan say something to you about it? You weren't supposed to know."

"Sister, almost everyone knows about your little side quest. I knew from the very beginning. So, tell me, how do you intend to manage it?". Nefros had a strange little grin on his face.

"I'm not quite sure. I haven't thought about it often. But, when I do come up with a plan, I most certainly will not tell you about it!"

And at that, they both began to laugh.

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: Isilya ]

*Varda*

11-08-2002, 04:30 PM

***Blue Mountains***

Serin, Mikhelm and Theron emerged from the Learning Room, their eyes being forced to blink in the seemingly harsh sunlight. Serin had proposed they take advantage of their time in the city, so the next few hours were passed peacefully wandering around and taking everything in.

Serin continued to marvel. The architecture, everything was perfect. How had the dwarves sat in their halls of stone for centuries, stubbornly refusing to absorb the beauty of the crafts of other races? One thing was for sure, he would change that.

Even Mikhelm, Serin noted, had changed dramatically on this journey. Before, he had been stubborn, and very unwilling to mix with the others. While Serin was forced to accept that Mikhelm could never change completely, at least he was improving! Even the Elves had managed to hold a conversation with him.

While walking down a small side street, the dwarves met the hobbits, Orlo and Brando. The two were obviously breathtaken with the scenes of the city, being so different from the peaceful surroundings of the Shire.

After listening to the hobbits chatter on for a few minutes, the dwarves said goodbye, and went on their way. Serin was deep in thought, pondering what he could say at the Audience. He obviously wanted more trade between the dwarves and the other races, and it seemed like Mikhelm wouldn't put up so much of a fight.

As for Moria, well, that was another matter. Who knew what the Erebor dwarves were considering at the moment? Perhaps, they would be willing to negotiate. They shared the same blood, and they both had rights to the dwarven city. Surely, in the 4th age, things could be set right.

VanimaEdhel

11-08-2002, 04:53 PM

*****Rhûn Nation*****

Ulwyte left the room, as they obviously had time before Gimli came. Kasteni and Lovek, however, remained seated.

"And what of Rhûn?" Lovek leaned over, whispering to Kasteni, "We should ask what is to become of Rhûn. We know that they will do everything in their power to take away our land. They are our enemies and we cannot trust them under any circumstances."

"Lovek," Kasteni said, reasonably, "King Elessar is a good leader. I can see it in his face. He will not treat us unfairly."

"It is all lies," Lovek said, "These men would not be truthful in front of us. You cannot trust this man's face. And what do we know of him? All we know is that he defeated one of our own. How can we call him an ally?"

"Because we have no choice," Kasteni said, his voice raising a little at his frustration, and echoing a bit in the hall. He calmed himself down and began again, "We have no power now, Lovek. We need their help. Rhûn will fail if we do not make peace with them."

"Rhûn will not fail!" Lovek said, desperately, "We will never fail! We have our faith and devotion to our supreme Lord to guide us! He will not abandon us! We can conquer all obstacles."

"No, Lovek, times have changed. These men's Lords and Kings will defeat ours. There are more of them, and their power is growing. We cannot hold them off. We must at least make peace. I know we will never be on friendly terms with them, but...it is our only hope. Don't you see?"

Lovek turned back. He did not see. He could never trust these people. He sighed and sat back, not wanting to see this city, partially for his dislike of it and partially for his fear that, by seeing the city, he may grow to like it. Kasteni, however, rose and dismissed himself from the room.

Lovek sat, brewing and contemplating this new turn of events...

Belin

11-08-2002, 09:51 PM

*****Rivendell*****

In unspoken agreement, Elladan and Elrohir set off along the corridors, in search of a person they had not named once during the journey, though she was present in both their minds.

They explored the halls cautiously, Elrohir in uncomfortable silence, and Elladan, after the first few moments, unconsciously began humming once again. His brother gave him a look of despair, but he was preoccupied and didn't notice.

Two elves they hadn't seen before rounded the corner ahead of them, talking to each other. They stopped when they caught sight of Elladan and Elrohir, glancing at each other as if satisfied at having found the singer.

Elrohir nodded at them irritably, ready to simply walk past, but they addressed the brothers in tones of welcome and introduced themselves as Orodan, prince of Mirkwood, and Nefros.

They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, Elrohir hiding his impatience less and less effectively. "It is good to see you here. The king invites all, as we've seen."

"All have suffered in the war, and all have concerns that must be addressed," answered Elladan, in a bored voice.

"Indeed," said Orodan, "some by choice and some not. Our brother has left us." He paused thoughtfully, and added, almost to himself, "On the other hand, some make sacrifices willingly where others would not."

Suddenly Elrohir's full attention was upon him. "What?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

The Mirkwood elves looked at him. His face was calm, and so was his voice, but the intensity of his gaze disquieted them. Neither answered.

"Elrohir..." said Elladan, in an undertone.

"Are you talking about my sister?" continued Elrohir, in the same unperturbed voice as before.

Orodan and Nefros continued staring, less and less certain of themselves. "What exactly are you..." started Orodan. Elladan interceded.

"My brother takes things personally. I apologize. We really must be going." He resolutely continued down the hall, giving Elrohir a look of warning.

------------------------------------------
Arwen, it seemed, was busy, and, for all practical purposes, unfindable. Discouraged, the brothers wandered out into the streets to look around the city. They'd barely left the gates before they met up with their old traveling companions, the dwarves, again.

As they began to talk, only Elladan noticed that the tone of their stories was nearly identical.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

Adanedhel

11-08-2002, 11:37 PM

Rira wandered around the city early one morning, noticing the many people that now resided here to have audience with the king. He saw Dwarves, Elves and many more foreign men than he could ever remember seeing, and the sight of so many races all in one place peacefully talking and sharing things made his heart glad.
As these thoughts went through his head his mind wandered across to how his old crew and Bram were at this moment in time. He continued wandering the streets knowing every turn and twist having spent most of his childhood running through these streets on some mischievous errand. Rira smiled as he remembered running through these streets with his friends, cutting purses and stealing goods and various baubles from the stands along some of the streets.
He looked up to the roof tops and the sun made him squint and raise his hand over his eyes to shield it from the sun.

‘Ahhh, those rooves a many an escape root for a theiving young boy’

He said aloud chuckling to himself. A few people walking near him looked up with a raised eyebrow or two but Rira didn’t notice and returned his eyes to the road ahead. He kept on walking making his way for the nearest Inn and a cool ale, the though of which made him rub his stubbly chin and walk that little bit faster......

Amanaduial the archer

11-09-2002, 04:12 AM

Brando had been amazed at the city. It challenged even Rivendell and Lorien with its beauty, yet was larger than both and more openly majestic. And everything was so big, so wide, yet so delicatly elegant...

After the dwarves dispute Brando had slipped away with Odo; they were going to explore more of this marvelous city of the big people. Elladan and Elrohir had left in silence before- they seemed to be able to communicate with saying anything. When Brando had asked Ciri, she had simply shook her head, but murmered something about the Queen.

They had found some of the younger servants, still towering at least a foot above them, but they were very friendly. They were enchanted by the little people as most of them hadnt seen hobbits before.

Brandos eyes flicked to the side as he stood in one of the huge corridors, hearing a muffled laugh. He smiled to himself and started to walk slowly and silently towards the place from where the noise had come- in a game of hide and seek, the big folk could never compete with hobbits, especially when Brando was looking...

*Varda*

11-09-2002, 11:29 AM

***Blue Mountains***

Serin listened to Elladan's tale, and couldn't help but notice the remarkable similarity. Had it come to this, that even people within their own race couldn't get on with each other? If this couldn't work, what hope was there for friendship between races? What was the point in the Audience?

Elladan noticed Serin was deep in thought, and asked him what was wrong. Serin told Elladan of the happenings between the dwarves of Erebor and the Blue Mountains.

"I fear things will never work," muttered Serin. "I had high hopes for this Audience, but now, once we have arrived, there seems to be nothing but bickering and quarrels. Perhaps we should just go back to the way things were..." Serin felt downcast. The glimmer of hope had faded, and now all he could do was wait for the Audience and see how things might turn out.

Ringwraith Number Two

11-09-2002, 01:59 PM

******The Shire******

Orlo listened to Serin silently, but after a while, determinedly opened his mouth.

"That's no way to talk, Serin! Call me foolish and young if you will, but I believe this Audience has a purpose, and we didn't travel all the way here just to start bickering. The Audience is here so we can stop bickering. I believe that you will find a way to resolve the Moria issue- both the Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Lonely Mountains can share. This way, you can combine your ideas and make Moria better than it was before! Be optimistic, Serin. This Audience will work." Orlo stepped back, a steely glint in his eye.

*Varda*

11-09-2002, 04:53 PM

***Blue Mountains***

Serin chided himself as he listened to the young hobbit speak. He couldn't let himself slip into negativity, how would the Blue Mountains stand a chance then? He had not come all this way for nothing.

"Of course, Orlo," Serin sighed. "I allowed my mood to get the better of me, thank you for correcting me." Orlo smiled, and they continued talking without argument, about what they would say at the Audience.

Belin

11-09-2002, 11:24 PM

*****Rivendell*****

Elladan looked at the hobbit for a moment, astonished and impressed.

“Wisdom in youth,” he said, a smile breaking over his face. Orlo was beginning to conclude that Elladan’s moods were no more serious than weather in spring, and no less susceptible to the effects of sudden small breezes. “It belongs most to those who bicker with nobody, does it not? And Elrohir and I are simply responding to what doesn’t matter, are we not?”

“They’re very insulting,” muttered Elrohir darkly. “I’ve sacrificed nobody.”

Well, this was a hopeless case, and there was no use in Elladan saying more to him, but all that was really required, he reflected optimistically, was that his brother remember his manners at the Audience. He turned back to Orlo.

“Consider this as a career,” he advised, before the conversation turned definitively back to the hopes and problems of dwarves and hobbits.

*Varda*

11-10-2002, 09:47 AM

***Blue Mountains***

Mikhelm glanced at Serin after his little outburst. So, the cheery nature had finally cracked, albeit only for a few seconds.

Well, the Audience might be a little more interesting than I first thought... Mikhelm said to himself, deep in thought.

However, the conversation changed soon after, and Mikhelm placed the events at the back of his mind, after noticing that Elrohir still held an angry expression on his face.

Guildo

11-10-2002, 01:50 PM

<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>>

Orodan & Nefros

"I think they assume we know more about them than we do" Said Orodan as he walked away from the Rivendell elves

"Quite confusing i didnt understand a word they meant" said Nefros as it was the first time he met either of them

"Perhaps i will go apologise, maybe they will explain how i offended them"

"you do that Nefros, but please dont make them anymore angry than they already are"

As the day grew longer Nefros made quite a few friends but Orodan had for the most part set and thought to himself only talking to Girion, and Stonehelm, for the time grew nearer for him to make that yes or no discision.

Ringwraith Number Two

11-10-2002, 02:26 PM

******The Shire******

Consider this as a career.

Orlo glowed with pride as he heard Elladan's words. He felt pleased, and continued listening to the conversation.

The difference in Mikhelm's attitude was quite noticeable: Orlo could remember clearly that in the Prancing Pony, he had come out with a curious outburst about Elves, but now, he had travelled miles and miles with Elves without many disputes with them. "So this is what the Audience is about. Bringing different people together. It has certainly brought Mikhelm closer to Elves," thought Orlo.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

*Varda*

11-10-2002, 03:39 PM

***Blue Mountains***

Serin beamed with pleasure as he noticed all the changes that had taken place within the group. It was a rare occasion when you could see a group of elves, dwarves, and hobbits in a city of men, and getting along together perfectly.

There is hope for us all, he thought, and continued talking to the hobbits about what they wanted out of the Audience.

The hobbits made a few jokes and comments about greater supplies of pipeweed, after the shortages near the end of the War of the Ring, and there was much jest.

Serin could not help but feel that the world of trading was for him. After all he had seen and done, and the races he had met, he desired to spend more time with them, and part of him longed to get back home and tell his fellow dwarves the same.

piosenniel

11-10-2002, 03:58 PM

DALE – Jarl/Bram

It was the night before the general audience with King Elessar. Jarl was celebrating the successful meeting his group of petitioners had had with the King. He was well into his third mug of ale when Bram motioned to him from the doorway of the tavern. They walked through the courtyard and out onto the path which led to it from the main road. As they passed the tree marking the entry way to the courtyard, a man stepped out from the shadows.

Jarl stepped back from the stranger as he approached, and facing him, put his hand to the hilt of his sword. Bram put his hand on Jarl’s arm to stay him from drawing his weapon. ‘This is Captain Rira.’ he said, drawing the shadowy figure more into the light. ‘He piloted the Neekerbreeker down the Anduin for us. He and I have been speaking of ports he has visited, and I thought you might like to hear of his discoveries in the lands far south and east of Harad. Jarl relaxed his stance and waited for Rira to begin speaking.

The Captain spoke of lands fantastical to the imagination. Of great and ancient cities set in seas of sand. There were gems, beautiful gems of all colors and an abundance of precious metals. The craftsmen there were highly skilled, their wares lovely and exotic to the eye of such a man as he. Of especial interest to him were great centers of learning in the cities. In one of the largest there was a great, multi-storied Library filled with scrolls beyond numbering collected from many sources throughout this unexplored region. He spoke of the way the peoples there had organized their politics and their economy, of the sorts of guild system they had established. Jarl’s eyes lit up at the mention of the merchants’ and tradesmens’ guilds, and he questioned Rira further on this.

Bram watched as Jarl’s face reacted to the information from Rira. He could see the man begin to calculate what this might mean in terms of opportunity for Dale. He laughed, breaking the intensity of the exchange between the two men. ‘We need not talk all this through tonight.’ he told them. ‘I only wanted you to meet. I thought after the Audience tomorrow we might meet again and see if we would like to explore these new possibilities.’

Rira agreed to meet with them, and suggested they do so on the ship he and Bram had sailed into Minas Anor. It would afford them some privacy as they laid out their plans. Jarl said that he would bring his assistant, Garlin, and would also bring Girion. If they decided they were to head south, then the Prince would bring back word to his Father, the King, of their plans. Jarl paused for a moment, a slight frown on his face. ‘I wonder if he could be persuaded to come.’ he murmured to himself, thinking of how invaluable Gramil might prove if he could be persuaded to travel with them.

The two Dalesmen said their good-byes to Rira, saying they would see him in the early evening of the next day. Bram walked with Jarl back to the tavern, where the celebrations were still in full swing. ‘I’ll meet you early tomorrow morning and go to the Audience with you and Garlin and Girion. I’m thinking you should probably collect the Prince from his cups soon and apprise him of what the day holds for us tomorrow.’ He thought for a moment. ‘In fact why don’t you gather those two up now, and we’ll spend a quieter and more restful night on the ship.’

Jarl agreed and drew the two young men away from the party. They protested, but fell silent when he told them there was Dale’s business to be done first, and celebration after. A somewhat sober group, at least in thought if not in bearing, made its way quickly back to the dock and boarded the ship.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Thenamir

11-10-2002, 05:42 PM

===========Blue Mountains===========

Theron Axehand had been silent and had kept pretty much to himself for most of the journey, and was no less so upon arriving in Minas Anor. He had looked in awe upon the White Tower will all of them, and enjoyed the compnay of elf, dwarf, hobbit, and now of man. But although the prospects of meeting the king were exciting, 'twas true, and the possibility of regaining Moria, even of reconciling the feuding bands of dwarves in his own home were his goals on this journey, they seemed more important than ever before now. They might be the last things Theron could accomplish.

Theron Axehand was dying.

He had attempted to hide it as well as he could, disguising his illness as symptoms of his age, which was considerable. He had ruled his people for many years, and he only hoped that he could accomplish somthing on this trip to the King's Audience by which his people might remember him.

And so he had watched, and listened, and perceived all that he could, trying to cobble the disparate fragments into a coherent picture which he could present to the King: a roadmap for their future. No matter how he tried, though, he could not force openness on the elders, nor secusion upon the young.

Moria had been his only hope for bringing his people into a separated harmony. The elders would appreciate the Moria Mithril to craft in the Blue Mountains workshops and mines. The younger ones would be able to effectively trade their crafts and those from the Blue Mountains with all the races of Middle Earth from Khazad-Dum, centrally located and strategically placed as near as any point to the center of the united Gondor/Arnor kingdom.

But the Dwarves of Erebor had a claim as well. What did they want Moria for? they had more than they could handle with their numbers in the Lonely Mountain! He did not know how the King Elessar would respond to their pleas, and they might actually have a well-founded claim. Theron thought back as much as he could remember of the stories and news that came back from Gimli and the others about their trek thru the mines. The fabled halls. The huge realm of Dwarrowdelf.

The huge realm of Dwarrowdelf...huge realm...hmmmm. Surely there was room enough in Dwarrowdelf for both groups to work and live together side-by-side. Perhaps, just perhaps, that was the point he needed. He was unable to sleep anyway because of the annoying pain of his illness, so at first light he arose and dressed quietly, and went in search of his brethren from the Lonely Mountain.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Thenamir ]

piosenniel

11-11-2002, 03:43 AM

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Clouds of white seabirds wheeled and turned in the harbor air, their raucous calls heralding the dawn of a new day. Jarl was up early, in the hour before the sun had risen, anxious for the day to begin and then be over. Bram had also awakened early and gone down into the city to speak with Captain Rira.

Today would be the day for the Audience with King Elessar. It would be for form, a day of pomp and show. All would be there in their finery, looking over all the other nations who had come, attempting to guess what the agenda of each was. Jarl no longer cared. Once they had made their requisite appearance, the Dalesmen would make their excuses and would meet back on the ship. Girion would sit in on their planning, and would then return to Dale in the company of the Lonely Mountain dwarves and the Elves of Mirkwood. King Brand would be made privy to to the plans to go South when the Prince returned.

The sun was two hours above the horizon, when Jarl went to wake both Girion and Garlin. Time to break their fast, put on their ceremonial finery, and head into the city - to the seventh level where Elessar would hold the audience.

Bleary eyed, they rose, each waving off the offers of solid food in favor of strong cups of tea thick with honey. They dressed in clothes of simple elegance. Tunics in dark hues of green and of blue topped their black breeches. Jarl's was much the same, a dark grey shirt and black pants, with black knee high boots of soft leather. Each wore a black cape, clasped at the throat with a small insignia of Dale - a dark blue enamelled 'D' on a field of silver.

When the trio was ready, Jarl, Girion, and Garlin, they made their winding way up through the city to the seventh tier. They were among the first ones to arrive, and they quickly made their way to a vantage point where they could watch the other delegates make their way up the levels and then enter the courtyard. Jarl supposed that once all were gathered in tha area of the Citadel, then all would go within to Merethrond, the Hall of Feasts.

Girion and Garlin gawked unashamedly at the sights. Just as they had entered into the seventh tier, the Place of the Fountain met their eyes, its bright and melodious waters a refreshing blend of sight and sound after the climb up the lamplit tunnel that ran due west to the Citadel, providing the only access to the seventh tier. Directly behind the Fountain, towering gracefully over it, stood the White Tree of Minas Anor, a descendant of Nimloth of Númenor. It had been planted there by the hand of King Elessar, himself, in place of the one which had withered in the courtyard before his ascent to the throne. Finally was their gaze caught and held by the splendor of the White Tower of Ecthelion, shining in the sun.

Jarl smiled at the two young men, remembering his first sight of this city, though it had been in more shadowed and kingless times. He nudged them into some sense of decorum as the first delegations began to arrive.

Isilmir, dressed in his rumpled robe, waved to him as he passed through the courtyard to the king's House. Jarl made his way to a table laden with fruits, small tidbits of food and all manner of drink. He poured a goblet of thin, watered wine for himself, and sipped it slowly. The sun stood high in the sky, and still the peoples flowed into the Citadel. He sighed and sat at ease in the shade of the Feast Hall. There were many delegates still to come - this could prove to be a long, long day.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Belin

11-11-2002, 11:12 AM

*****Rivendell*****

All the companions who had traveled together from Rivendell walked up the roads of the city, meeting each other as they went. Looking around him, Elladan was suddenly startled by the size of a group that they made.

He was further startled to find that there, on the edge of it, were Orodan and Nefros. His brother had noticed already and was studiously and sulkily looking away. Nefros was watching them with a slightly anxious expression on his face. Elladan considered.

They were reaching the top of the hill, and the maginficent tower was just becoming visible ahead of them, when out of the corner of his eye, Elladan caught sight of someone sitting calmly outside one of the houses, conversing with a grim-looking Gondorian woman and watching the people pass.

Arwen? He nudged Elrohir slightly. It was certainly her, though her face had changed entirely. The restless distance that had characterized her expression for so long had disappeared, and there was a look on her face of calm joy that stopped him entirely.

The difference was real. She was sundered from them, truly and definitively. Elladan stood frozen and staring for a moment, half-fighting the realization, half-reminding himself that, after all, he had never seen her seem so happy. Elrohir stood as quiet and as still.

She called to them, and they moved away from the group (which had slowed its disorganized forward movement in confusion) and toward her.

They did not know what to say, and they were surprised to find the others coming closer as well, though maintaining a respectful distance. They had never seen her before, but it was clear that she was not an ordinary person. The Gondorian woman watched them, sharply and silently.

Orodan and Nefros were near the front of the crowd, having decided amongst themselve that she must be the Queen. Like most of the others, they were contriving a rather awkward species of group bow. Elrohir looked at them, suddenly abashed. Arwen laughed slightly, and he threw them a sudden smile that was almost an apology.

She inclined her head at them, with a smile. "It is good to see you," she said, in her clear voice, "all of you." But she looked at her brothers. "The Audience is soon, and I wished to see all the races on their road to peace. A hard road, but a worthy one. Are you not near to being late?"

"For what cause could we better be late?" asked somebody (nobody afterward was ever sure who).

She laughed again. "Certainly, I will see all of you after the Audience, and we will talk. Especially you, my brothers. But do not be late!"

She waved them off, and off they went.

Mithadan

11-11-2002, 01:18 PM

Elessar examined his image in a mirror and adjusted his mantle. An advisor had recommended that he wear the crown to this event; a recommendation which he ignored. The crown was heavy and did not fit well. It also tended to slip to one side if he did not mind it constantly. As he had during the private council sessions, he instead wore the Elendilmir bound to his brows.

The council sessions! His head still ached from the endless succession of complaints and claims. Dale sought trade opportunities with both Gondor as well as Harad and Nurn. That contingent would be satisfied with the contacts made during the meetings. Mirkwood sought little other than to be left alone as did Rivendell. The Shire had also sought little.

But Rhun presented problems. The representatives that nation had sent had little by way of a consensus concerning future relations. The sessions with the embassy from the East had begun and ended with distrust. While some had showed interest in trade, others seemed to foster continuing hostility towards the West.

Harad at least showed signs of a desire for improving relations. He had agreed to support the claim of the new King of Nurn and would aid the regimes of the South as they sought to quell civil unrest. Gondor would also facilitate trade with the South and help to establish safe routes between the kingdoms.

The issues raised by the Dwarves had been perhaps the most astonishing. Both the Blue Mountains and Erebor contingents had asked him to decide which had the best claim to Moria. He had informed them that matters of Dwarvish succession and hereditary claims were quite beyond the scope of his authority and that he would not presume to decide such issues. He offered instead to act as a mediator between the two groups; an offer he now regretted because the Dwarves had argued through the night and far into the morning about the merits of their claims before reaching the obvious conclusion that the retaking of Moria would require a cooperative effort between the kingdoms. He had declined to listen to their attempts to define "cooperative", instead suggesting that this subject would be a matter for future negotiation.

Arwen entered and advised that all was ready. They walked together to the grand ballroom. He fixed a smile upon his face and stepped forward as the Page announced, "The Lord Elessar Telcontar, King of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor..."