I PLACED YOUR POST IN YOUR SAVE - SEE GAREN'S REQUEST BELOW ~*~ PIO
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So, should I delete my save?
In that case . . .
Garen, here's what I'm supposed to post in my save. Please tell me if I need to change some things in it.
~*~
Erenor rushed off to fight the trolls, leaving Bethiril lost in thought. “
I am no longer Emissary, for the Kingdom as we know it is no more.” The older Noldo remembered saying such words to her younger colleague not long ago, to which she added the hope of not seeing her purpose fall to meaninglessness.
But the North Kingdom as it had been is
no more. Even if the people that once had inhabited its land . . . No. Forget the distant future. This remnant of Arnor left to your care must survive. She left her contemplation to look around her, to remember the faces of the persons that had been entrusted to her . . .
Angóre, she immediately discerned, is troubled in mind. Bethiril queried him in his thoughts.
He wants to go after the monsters that scarred his life, and after the person he had protected for so long.
“You may go,” she said.
“But you . . . and them . . .”
“We’ll be fine. Now go.”
“I may not leave you unarmed,” he said as he withdrew a sheathed dagger from his thigh. “Take this.”
Bethiril stared at the presented arms. She no longer shuddered at the sight of it, yet . . .
Dare I take it? Go against everything I believe in? Perhaps wearing the weapon would not be so evil . . .
Yet should the need arise, will I use it for its ghastly purpose? Will I take I life? Could I do such a thing and not break myself?
Angóre sensed the conflict within her. “Milady, although I entrust to you the life of these Edain, I would not trust you with my blade.” She saw the beginnings of a smile in his face, suppressed quickly as he pointed to a Man behind Bethiril, a former member of the Rearguard of Arnor now bandaged and in crutches. “Take this dagger, soldier. You are now in charge of protecting them.” He then saluted stiffly in the manner of the fighting men of Arnor, and the soldier, with as much formality as he could muster, returned it. The Elf turned back to Bethiril and bowed. “Thank you, milady. May the Valar protect you,” he said before running off to follow Erenor. Bethiril’s eyes trailed him for a while, then she remembered her charge. It may not bring with it the hope of ending Angmar's reign, but . . .
Perhaps it will.
“Let us go,” she said.
~*~
Pio, will you please place this after
Mithalwen's post #157? Thanks!
