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Old 05-09-2006, 04:39 AM   #2
Taralphiel
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Sorn blew thin rings of smoke from his long pipe, and eased himself further into his plush chair. In the corner of his spacious dining room, few disturbed him. Smiling in his hidden space, he praised himself over the flawless completion of his mission thus far. The girl had been taken with little noise and effort, and was now in his ‘safe-keeping’ in a makeshift cell in his Hall’s cellar, with a guard to avoid mischief. He had carefully drafted his letter of ransom, and no doubt the Lady Lothiriel would be reading it now. He chuckled at the thought of the ice cracking on her polished demeanour.

'Mother would not appreciate my scheming' he said to himself quietly, eyeing his hired men shuffling about outside the elaborately constructed dining room. 'Nor would dearest Father. But neither has lived to see the times of our house become so…drastic. What little land and weight in title I have needs replenishing. And this fair young maiden has that money all there for the spending.'

Sorn thought back to his performance in leading the girl off to a quiet enough place to bundle her up. He remembered the air of confidence and nobility about her. No doubt she carried herself, as she should, a true pure blood daughter of Gondorian Kings. He knew such composure was chiselled over many years of training, and though with pursed lips over how he’d watched his sister, Hild, taking such courses. Had she been alive, she would have stunned such a little girl with her grace, warmth and kindness. Hild was a true woman of Rohan, no mistake, and Sorn snarled at the thought of the injustice she suffered while she lived. No woman would have suited the King better, yet he chose Lothiriel. A bargain of peace, a gesture of goodwill, surely. Had Sorn known otherwise, he wouldn’t have believed it.

He stretched, letting out an almost feline yawn of boredom. Rising from his plush chair, he wondered what the young girl would try first to escape. He grinned again, at the thought of her pondering her surroundings in the small cell he’d built for her. She’d look for any weaknesses in the bars, and then, any weakness in her Jailor that would give her a hope of freedom. She knew the noble women of Gondor were not entirely helpless, and that she’d have some schooling in defence and strategy. She was a difficult person to keep, but Sorn was yet a few paces ahead of her.

At that moment, one of his hired men walked in, gruffly muttering a complaint. "She’s a noisy one, Lord. She’s not kept quiet since we dropped her down there. Kicking an’ yelping. A right caterwauling!".

Sorn raised an eyebrow, then said slowly "You would too, if you were locked in a cell in a strange place. Do not worry, I shall have a word with her.". A word sounded a lot less pleasant than an average conversation. The gruff man nodded, and walked out as Sorn waved him off.

He walked to a small table, and tapped out his pipe in a polished bone dish, leaving it on a small velvet cloth to be stored later. He gazed slowly into the fire, pondering the journey to his estate. The girl had asked, "What do you want of me?" before drifting into exhaustion. Sorn let her drift in sleep, his horse taking a small path towards the glittering lights of a Hall over a small hill. Before he slowed to be received by his ostler, he whispered in the young woman’s ear.

"I wish to make a little coin, true. You could not put blame for being so tempted, as you are a fine prize. But to be certain, I wish to see that ‘Lady of Rohan’ fail in her endeavours to make a Queen. I will make this as trying as possible before the end. Or, perhaps your end, whichever it may be."


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Hama of the Riddermark's post

Haleth stood outside the mead hall, quietly. His armour shone golden about his large frame and he turned many passing heads as they walked past the hall. He had been briefed by the Queen on this task. Although the Queen had placed special importance on it, it seemed to Haleth like any old kidnap scenario. Some foolish man seemed to think that he could get money by kidnapping someone with powerful relatives, not realising that the people with powerful relatives are the ones that get an entire company of eored hunting you. Unfortunately, this could not be solved by the army. Haleth ascended to slightly higher ground, before shouting loudly.

“People of Rohan! I am Haleth Reidrbrand, Commander of the Queen’s guard! I command silence!” All the talk subsided as Haleth stood tall, proud and striking, his cloak fluttering behind him in the breeze. “Today is a dark day! A relative of the Queen has been kidnapped by a nobleman who is asking for a ransom! This is beyond the mandate of the army to deal with so I ask you, loyal citizens of Rohan. If any here will take up arms to find and help this lady, you will be handsomely rewarded! Any man capable of wielding a sword or a bow, any man who is not too old or too young to ride to battle and victory! Is there any man here who will defend his country!? Is there any man here so cowardly that he will not!? Come to me, and join this noble cause!”

He stopped talking looking around to see what effect his words had had on the people. There was total silence for a few seconds, then cheering started to break out. He smiled and descended. Catching sight of Eodwine in the masses he walked over to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling widely.

“It has been too long, Eodwine. Now we will fight together once again, and by the grace of the Valar we will win. It’s good to see you again, old friend.” He laughed and drew Eodwine into an embrace, which Eodwine returned. “Blood and swords, Haleth!” he laughed, “I knew you’d be here. Commander of the Queen’s guard now? That’s quite something. It has been too long. Remember us? Two young….well, less old, men under King Eomer’s command, ready to take on the whole Mordor army all by ourselves!” Haleth smiled widely. “It wasn’t that long ago, Eodwine, but you’re right…I feel a lot older, and perhaps a little wiser.” Eodwine chuckled and slapped Haleth on the arm friendlily, “You? Wiser? Time does indeed work miracles, old friend…”

Last edited by piosenniel; 05-22-2006 at 02:13 AM.
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