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Old 05-12-2006, 10:37 AM   #49
Feanor of the Peredhil
La Belle Dame sans Merci
 
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Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.
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PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ PIO

FIRST POST FOR GAME



“You’ll never prove anything.” He spat in her face, his thin, pale lips parting to reveal yellowed teeth. His sour breath made her stomach turn, but outwardly she was serene, her bright grey eyes unusually cold and calculating. Wiping the saliva from her cheek, she patted him condescendingly on the head with her wet hand.

“You’ve forgotten where we are. I don't need to prove anything to anybody. This is Mordor. Habeas corpus doesn’t apply.” Alli Umfuil, escaped prisoner of Mordor and newly instated spymaster of the king looked down at her desk and the heaps of paper thereupon as the sounds of desperate screams echoed down the dark and foreboding hall through which the unlucky prisoner was now being dragged. She was not about to explain to the man that, as spymaster of the king and confidante of Illamatar, she had access to the sort of information that he’d never in his wildest dreams imagine. With one night’s unsettled sleep, she’d spotted the felon even as he lurked in the shadows of his favorite haunt. The king was unhappy with the rate of unsolved murders in the back allies behind his palace… bad for the tourist industry, as it were. Alli had found the killer and sent her own team of guards to capture him before he could strike again. She knew that criminals must be watched, preferably stopped, but she’d inspected the dungeons of Mount Doom Palace and Casino and found herself pitying those trapped therein.

She poured a basin of water, scrubbing the remnants of spit from her pale hand. She kept her stomach muscles tight, willing herself not to gag as she splashed cold water upon her face as well. Patting her pearly skin dry, she answered the light knock on the extremely large set of double doors into her office. The torchlight cut through the darkness to illuminate shackles on the walls… the former spymaster had had a flair for the dramatic before his yet unsolved death.

“Yeah!” she called by way of invitation. The doors opened and the king entered, his peg-leg clicking on the flagstones. He ducked through the doors, standing fully once inside, the cathedral ceiling accommodating his bulk.

“Roggie,” she greeted with a tired smile and a bow. “What can I do for you?”

“I see you’ve captured the killer.” She nodded, sitting down behind her desk and absent-mindedly sorting papers that her secretary had forwarded to her into ‘look at immediately,’ ‘consider taking a peek at later,’ and ‘conveniently lose in the fireplace.’

“He wasn’t much trouble… injured one of my men, but it wasn’t much… certainly not enough to send him to be checked out by incompetent nurses. I told him to stay off that leg for a few days. Sent him on vacation. I owed him a few days for the extra time he put in to help me set up my contacts. He knows a lot… I’m not sure how comfortable I am with his knowledge of my network. I mean, he only knows the contacts I chose to be my findables… If they’re caught, no biggie. They’ll be helpful in the mean time, you know?”

Roggie sat on the floor, his legs stretched before him, his body comfortably heating the otherwise cold room, his faint burning glow illuminating the chamber with soft red light. It was imprudent to have a wooden castle with a balrogic king, but Alli got cold easily with the inescapable stonework. She was always happy to have Roggie of Morgoth in her presence, both for physical warmth and the ability to share that which plagued her mind.

“I’m not over-working you, am I, Alli?” he growled concernedly. He looked menacing with his patched-eye and combustible body. Alli reached casually behind her and pushed her window open to let the early summer breeze come through; the room was getting a little smoky and her eyes were beginning to water. She glanced around the area outside her office before continuing, trusting in her privacy precautions to keep their conversation away from the ears of strangers.

“Of course not, Rogs. It’s just… well… I’ve not seen Aimč in weeks and I know that there are at least two werewolves still out there, and the wizards have been causing all kinds of trouble…”

“Actually, you’ve just named why I stopped.”

“Aww, not just to visit with your best pal?” she teased lightly.

“You know I like to visit with you but-“ he stopped, seeing her laugh. “Anyhow… I received a letter from the wizards today. The gist of it was that if I can’t get Mardil to stop being such an arrogant” Alli laughed at Roggie’s impolite phrasing of Mardil II of Gondor’s personality. “Basically, if I can’t work out some sort of something getting Mardil to agree to a few concessions, they’re going to rework the Dweomer into something, to quote them, “far more ominous than mere words can describe!!!!”. Yeah, Alli… they actually used four exclamation points. The darndest thing, really.”

“So what are you going to do?” Her papers were forgotten. She looked across her desk at her friend, their eyes nearly level with him seated on the floor.

“Nothing.” he said.

“So you’re going to let the wizards… do whatever it is they’re going to do?”

“I’m not groveling to that egotist. If it weren’t for him, I’d have both legs still. If it weren't for him, this country would be a lot easier to run and you know it. Just because he felt the need to seize control of Gondor doesn’t mean he has control of Mordor.”

“Oh, Rog, I… I meant to tell you… the King’s Law is weakening ever since Mardil seized power. Every border guard I’ve got’s been sending reports on it. Mardil actually… well… he really kind of does have control. The more power he gets, the less power the spells have to keep your borders closed and your people here.”

“I spotted that illegal emigration is at an all-time high…”

“Yeah, well… it’s Mardil’s fault. If he’d just work something out with the wizards, but he’ll never do it. You know how he is with people telling him what to do.”

Roggie sighed, laying back on the formerly cool stone floor. “Alli, how am I supposed to run this place with my people leaving and a pair of crackpot old Istari changing the rules any time we get them figured out? They’re pressuring me to treat with Mardil and quite frankly, I don’t want to.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Roggie sat up, shocked. “But… even after—“

“Roggie, it’s been a year and he's married now anyhow. And I’m your top advisor. Surely I ought to be living up to my job by doing the things that you can't and telling you when to let me?

"You sure as heck can’t travel to Gondor and work out negotiations with Mardil. Even if you could just up and leave your responsibilities, the Dweomer still has you and nearly every one of your staff members trapped here. I’m better suited for the travel, I’ve got contacts in his palace as well… If you’ll lend me some ambassadors, I can get this worked out in no time flat. Just give me permission, Roggie, and I'll go to Gondor.

"I've been granted the right to freely come and go. I can ride out, convince Mardil to send some diplomats, and we'll all treat here. It will be easy enough for me to do and downright impossible for almost anybody else.”

The king stood, bowing low to his friend. His good eye looked teary, but Alli ignored it politely as good friends sometimes must.

After a short time of visiting, Roggie left, the enormous doors closing behind him with a tiny click disproportionate to their size. Alli looked at her desk again, tears now in her eyes. Why had she offered? She’d never particularly wanted to see Mardil again… now she would be forced to deal with him and knowing his mind for strategy, he'd invite his wife along for the discussions.

Yes, she loved her job… she loved to know things, and having the best job in the kingdom for somebody that likes to find things out kept her content. But negotiating a treaty with Mardil?

She pitied the ambassadors that got between them all.

Unwilling to get out of the comfortable chair it had taken her seven days of combing Roggie’s castle for, Alli called loudly for her secretary. The woman stepped from the shadows near the door, looking severe with her half-moon spectacles and neat chignon.

“Ms. Martinet,” Alli said. “You listened? Of course… I needn’t ask. I did a good day’s work when I recruited you for this job.

"The king will provide you with a list of names shortly. They are the ambassadors he'll have chosen. I’m riding out this afternoon to treat with King Mardil; no need for you to worry about anything on that end. I’ll get names and information on everybody that he picks to accompany me back and brief you on my return.

"We’ll need suites for them, of course, and private chambers for them all to work in… all of the amenities. And every second they’re in Mordor, I want to know who is doing what, when, and with whom. You know the drill. I'll want logistics taken care of while I'm gone. You'll have about a week before I'm back with Mardil's cronies and we can get this mess fixed.”

“Yes, Miss Umfuil.” Ms. Martinet finished scratching the details of her orders on a yellow legal pad and disappeared once more.

Reflecting, if she’d known it, King Theoden of Rohan (may he rest in peace) upon the brink of battle so long ago, Alli, with her head cradled in her long fingers, muttered softly to herself… “So it begins.”

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The edited first post. Hopefully that's clearer.

I have one or two comments for everybody before we start posting, but they can wait until the thread is open.
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peace

Last edited by piosenniel; 05-12-2006 at 12:43 PM.
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