The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Tol-in-Gaurhoth Threefold and Six: The Night Guard

Eönwë · 09-08-2009, 04:00 PM

They had killed another on their side that day, and as the villagers walked home in silence, they were all afraid that they would be next.

Shasta had been part of the action of the first day, but after the pan that he had supported had not been approved by the village, he started getting anxious. And his fears were proven later that day, when their seer died. The next day he spoke a little, and eventually decided that he had had too much of their daily discussions and left.

He also fell into despair, like Alona. He would not talk to anyone, and would only go out of his house at night. This night, he ran around the village wildly, shouting. "Run away! The wolves are coming! Run away!" By this time most of the village had assumed that he had gone mad, Shasta knew that he was right in fearing the Werewolves.

But as he ran, his foot landed in the gap of a missing cobblestone, and he fell over, hitting he head. Everything went black.

When Shasta woke up, he saw three dark figures leaning over him, their rank breath stinging his nostrils. He took out a small bottle from one of his inner pockets and downed the entire contents. "Haha." he chuckled. "Now you will not get the pleasure of killing me." He started laughing uncontrollably, then his face contorted into an expression of pain. He took a last, gasping breath, and was dead.

--

The wolves walked on, with their bloodstained teeth glinting in the moonlight.

"You know, they're really not doing their side a favour killing themselves like that," said one of the beasts.

"Yeah, you're right, they're just doing our job for us."

They reached the house of Nerwen. She was inside, asleep, but woke up as soon as they broke down the front door. She sat bolt upright in her bed, looking around.

They entered her room. One wolf stepped forwards. "And now you shall taste death," said the wolf.

"Stop!" said a second one. "I don't want to do this any more. It's getting boring." The other two wolves looked at the speaker, and Nerwen looked hopeful. "I mean, isn't there some other way? Each day we just kill and eat one of them, How about a new method?" Nerwen's sudden hope melted away as quickly as it had sprung up.

"What would you suggest?" asked the third wolf.

"I don't know," said the second wolf. "Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew? They're taking the hob-" The wolf paused as the other two looked at him or her (there was no way of telling, as they all resembled the Great Wolf) fiercely. "I'm sorry," the second wolf said. "I just got a little carried away there."

"That's not actually a bad idea," said the first wolf.

"Let's do it!" said the third wolf.

--

It was morning, and the villagers gathered at the village square. But there was something there that had not been there yesterday.

There was a large (extremely large, in fact) cauldron in the centre of the village square, with the words "NERWEN STEW" carved upon it.

Most of villagers dared not look into it, but those that did jumped back with a yelp, and a sickened look in their eyes. When Eönwë came to address the village that morning, he saw the villagers crowding around something, talking loudly and some wailing, and went to see what all the fuss was about.

He looked inside, and saw the remains of a few strips of wet cloth. That was all that remained of Nerwen. Even her bones had been feasted upon, it was assumed. The villagers looked all around the village for any other remains, but there were none, and so they concluded that their assumptions were correct.

So the wolves have become more crafty, thought Eönwë. He addressed the villagers, the people of Upper Downsbury. "If we do not catch the wolves, this is what they will do to each and every one of us, and worse if they get the chance, until all but them are dead. We must look harder. We cannot afford to lose many more."

And so the discussions began.

Living:
A Little Green- the village butcher
Boromir88- the village pig farmer
Brinniel- the village witch
McCaber- chief (only) miner, head of miners' guild
Nessa Telrunya- the village seamstress
Nienna- the village potter
Nilpaurion Felagund- the village fool
Nogrod- the retired bourgeois
Pitchwife- the village mason
satansaloser2005- The village librarian (Mistress of the books)
wilwarin538- the village barmaid

The Dead
Kitanna- the village hermit - Seer
Mnemosyne- the village coquette - Innocent
Legate of Amon Lanc- the village broker - Innocent
Thinlómien- the village chief gardener - Innocent
Inziladun- the village brewer - Wolf
alonariel- the village blacksmith - Innocent (modfired)
Hakon- the village innkeeper - Innocent
Shastanis Althreduin- the village apothecary - Innocent (modfired)
Nerwen- a wandering minstrel - Innocent

Day 5 has begun. Post if ye dare.

09-08-2009, 04:00 PM	#569
Eönwë Flame Imperishable Join Date: Dec 2007 Location: Right here Posts: 3,928	Night 5 They had killed another on their side that day, and as the villagers walked home in silence, they were all afraid that they would be next. Shasta had been part of the action of the first day, but after the pan that he had supported had not been approved by the village, he started getting anxious. And his fears were proven later that day, when their seer died. The next day he spoke a little, and eventually decided that he had had too much of their daily discussions and left. He also fell into despair, like Alona. He would not talk to anyone, and would only go out of his house at night. This night, he ran around the village wildly, shouting. "Run away! The wolves are coming! Run away!" By this time most of the village had assumed that he had gone mad, Shasta knew that he was right in fearing the Werewolves. But as he ran, his foot landed in the gap of a missing cobblestone, and he fell over, hitting he head. Everything went black. When Shasta woke up, he saw three dark figures leaning over him, their rank breath stinging his nostrils. He took out a small bottle from one of his inner pockets and downed the entire contents. "Haha." he chuckled. "Now you will not get the pleasure of killing me." He started laughing uncontrollably, then his face contorted into an expression of pain. He took a last, gasping breath, and was dead. -- The wolves walked on, with their bloodstained teeth glinting in the moonlight. "You know, they're really not doing their side a favour killing themselves like that," said one of the beasts. "Yeah, you're right, they're just doing our job for us." They reached the house of Nerwen. She was inside, asleep, but woke up as soon as they broke down the front door. She sat bolt upright in her bed, looking around. They entered her room. One wolf stepped forwards. "And now you shall taste death," said the wolf. "Stop!" said a second one. "I don't want to do this any more. It's getting boring." The other two wolves looked at the speaker, and Nerwen looked hopeful. "I mean, isn't there some other way? Each day we just kill and eat one of them, How about a new method?" Nerwen's sudden hope melted away as quickly as it had sprung up. "What would you suggest?" asked the third wolf. "I don't know," said the second wolf. "Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew? They're taking the hob-" The wolf paused as the other two looked at him or her (there was no way of telling, as they all resembled the Great Wolf) fiercely. "I'm sorry," the second wolf said. "I just got a little carried away there." "That's not actually a bad idea," said the first wolf. "Let's do it!" said the third wolf. -- It was morning, and the villagers gathered at the village square. But there was something there that had not been there yesterday. There was a large (extremely large, in fact) cauldron in the centre of the village square, with the words "NERWEN STEW" carved upon it. Most of villagers dared not look into it, but those that did jumped back with a yelp, and a sickened look in their eyes. When Eönwë came to address the village that morning, he saw the villagers crowding around something, talking loudly and some wailing, and went to see what all the fuss was about. He looked inside, and saw the remains of a few strips of wet cloth. That was all that remained of Nerwen. Even her bones had been feasted upon, it was assumed. The villagers looked all around the village for any other remains, but there were none, and so they concluded that their assumptions were correct. So the wolves have become more crafty, thought Eönwë. He addressed the villagers, the people of Upper Downsbury. "If we do not catch the wolves, this is what they will do to each and every one of us, and worse if they get the chance, until all but them are dead. We must look harder. We cannot afford to lose many more." And so the discussions began. Living: A Little Green- the village butcher Boromir88- the village pig farmer Brinniel- the village witch McCaber- chief (only) miner, head of miners' guild Nessa Telrunya- the village seamstress Nienna- the village potter Nilpaurion Felagund- the village fool Nogrod- the retired bourgeois Pitchwife- the village mason satansaloser2005- The village librarian (Mistress of the books) wilwarin538- the village barmaid The Dead Kitanna- the village hermit - Seer Mnemosyne- the village coquette - Innocent Legate of Amon Lanc- the village broker - Innocent Thinlómien- the village chief gardener - Innocent Inziladun- the village brewer - Wolf alonariel- the village blacksmith - Innocent (modfired) Hakon- the village innkeeper - Innocent Shastanis Althreduin- the village apothecary - Innocent (modfired) Nerwen- a wandering minstrel - Innocent Day 5 has begun. Post if ye dare. __________________ Welcome to the Barrow Do-owns Forum / Such a lovely place Last edited by Eönwë; 09-09-2009 at 10:37 AM.