The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Werewolf LXXXI: Under the Misty Mountains

Nienna · 09-14-2010, 06:59 PM

There is no visible difference between Night and Day in the caves beneath the Misty Mountains. As such, though days and nights above ground followed the rising and setting of the sun, the Days and Nights underground followed the internal rhythms of the goblin folk. Awake for twice as long as you sleep. Perhaps some of this rhythm was provided by the sheer discomfort of sleeping on craggy wet stone. The goblin folk stayed awake as long as they coherently could before collapsing into the rag piles that served as their beds. Once asleep, though they tossed and turned, the orc clan slept soundly, exhausted past any real notice of their physical pain. Except for one orc that held a secret.

This orc knew many secrets, to be fair, but they all stemmed from one, the biggest secret. All other bits and pieces of knowledge came from the unfortunate truth that this orc had never, ever slept an entire night without receiving vivid and prophetic dreams. The orc knew the dreams were true, and found no comfort in this fact: the orc knew all manner of distasteful things about every other being. It is hard, for one who sees the inner truths of those around them, to interact with others without revealing too much information. For, after all, how many individuals desire to spend time with a person who mysteriously learns all their darkest thoughts?

Of course this orc was not the only one with a secret; it was merely just that this orc was the only one whose secret affected the rhythms of the Night. The other orc with a secret desperately wanted to fit in with the clan, but couldn't help but think they were raging idiots.

As such, this latter orc watched every other little goblin tremble with fear of the legendary Sons of Elrond and their minions, and thought a little guiltily that maybe they all deserved whatever they got. Still, this orc felt a little tied, at least, to its roots... Conflicted, this orc simply tried to stay out of the way until it could figure out which side it was on.

Still, Feanorc and Niennorc knew nothing of this prophetic orc or this orc of questionable allegiance. They only knew that they'd been voted to stand guard over the rest of the clan while everybody slept. The congressional attempts to cast out the fiends of the clan would begin in the morning. Feanorc and Niennorc were simply required to keep an eye on the cave passages until Day.

As they paced and bickered, for they were bored and they were goblins, and that tends to mean grumbling, they managed to completely miss the one thing they should have noticed: creeping up behind them were four forms with calamitous intent.

Clad in rags and makeup like orcs, they approached Feanorc and Niennorc.

"Borc, is that you?" asked Feanorc.

Niennorc elbowed Feanorc in the trachea. "No, idiot, it's obviously Shastorc scavenging for noms!"

The forms moved closer, hazy in the poor lighting. Niennorc's torch did nothing to illuminate the situation.

Feanorc asked, "Glorc?"

Niennorc brandished her torch. "If it was Glorc he'd be singing really horrible songs!"

"True," said Feanorc.

By then, the four had finished their approach. "They don't smell right," said Niennorc. "They smell... good. Like... like baths. Or like... like perhaps they aren't covered in slime and whatever that thing that died out in the cavern is."

Feanorc cocked her head, curious. "You... you aren't one of us."

"No," growled Elrohir, straightening from his crouch, letting his orc rags and rusty helm fall from his gleaming hair. "But I'm good enough at pretending to KILL YOU!"

With that, Elrohir, Elladan, Arathorn, and Other Guy pounced on Feanorc and Niennorc, cutting their heads from their necks.

"I think that counts as half for each of us," laughed Elladan. "Which means I'm in the lead by two thousand eight hundred and fifty seven and a half. Take that, brother!"

Arathorn and Other Guy moped, for they knew that in their puny Man lives, they would never behead more than a few hundred goblins.

---

Day One has begun. You may begin posting.

Dead:
Feanorc and Niennorc - beheaded in the dark

Alive:
Boro
Celuien
Foley
Glirdy
Greenie
Izzy
Kath
Legate
Lommy
Lottie
Mira
Nerwen
Nog
Phantom
Rune
Sally
Shasta
Steve
Vanilwa
Zil

09-14-2010, 06:59 PM	#2
Nienna Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Mar 2009 Location: School Posts: 643	There is no visible difference between Night and Day in the caves beneath the Misty Mountains. As such, though days and nights above ground followed the rising and setting of the sun, the Days and Nights underground followed the internal rhythms of the goblin folk. Awake for twice as long as you sleep. Perhaps some of this rhythm was provided by the sheer discomfort of sleeping on craggy wet stone. The goblin folk stayed awake as long as they coherently could before collapsing into the rag piles that served as their beds. Once asleep, though they tossed and turned, the orc clan slept soundly, exhausted past any real notice of their physical pain. Except for one orc that held a secret. This orc knew many secrets, to be fair, but they all stemmed from one, the biggest secret. All other bits and pieces of knowledge came from the unfortunate truth that this orc had never, ever slept an entire night without receiving vivid and prophetic dreams. The orc knew the dreams were true, and found no comfort in this fact: the orc knew all manner of distasteful things about every other being. It is hard, for one who sees the inner truths of those around them, to interact with others without revealing too much information. For, after all, how many individuals desire to spend time with a person who mysteriously learns all their darkest thoughts? Of course this orc was not the only one with a secret; it was merely just that this orc was the only one whose secret affected the rhythms of the Night. The other orc with a secret desperately wanted to fit in with the clan, but couldn't help but think they were raging idiots. As such, this latter orc watched every other little goblin tremble with fear of the legendary Sons of Elrond and their minions, and thought a little guiltily that maybe they all deserved whatever they got. Still, this orc felt a little tied, at least, to its roots... Conflicted, this orc simply tried to stay out of the way until it could figure out which side it was on. Still, Feanorc and Niennorc knew nothing of this prophetic orc or this orc of questionable allegiance. They only knew that they'd been voted to stand guard over the rest of the clan while everybody slept. The congressional attempts to cast out the fiends of the clan would begin in the morning. Feanorc and Niennorc were simply required to keep an eye on the cave passages until Day. As they paced and bickered, for they were bored and they were goblins, and that tends to mean grumbling, they managed to completely miss the one thing they should have noticed: creeping up behind them were four forms with calamitous intent. Clad in rags and makeup like orcs, they approached Feanorc and Niennorc. "Borc, is that you?" asked Feanorc. Niennorc elbowed Feanorc in the trachea. "No, idiot, it's obviously Shastorc scavenging for noms!" The forms moved closer, hazy in the poor lighting. Niennorc's torch did nothing to illuminate the situation. Feanorc asked, "Glorc?" Niennorc brandished her torch. "If it was Glorc he'd be singing really horrible songs!" "True," said Feanorc. By then, the four had finished their approach. "They don't smell right," said Niennorc. "They smell... good. Like... like baths. Or like... like perhaps they aren't covered in slime and whatever that thing that died out in the cavern is." Feanorc cocked her head, curious. "You... you aren't one of us." "No," growled Elrohir, straightening from his crouch, letting his orc rags and rusty helm fall from his gleaming hair. "But I'm good enough at pretending to KILL YOU!" With that, Elrohir, Elladan, Arathorn, and Other Guy pounced on Feanorc and Niennorc, cutting their heads from their necks. "I think that counts as half for each of us," laughed Elladan. "Which means I'm in the lead by two thousand eight hundred and fifty seven and a half. Take that, brother!" Arathorn and Other Guy moped, for they knew that in their puny Man lives, they would never behead more than a few hundred goblins. --- Day One has begun. You may begin posting. Dead: Feanorc and Niennorc - beheaded in the dark Alive: Boro Celuien Foley Glirdy Greenie Izzy Kath Legate Lommy Lottie Mira Nerwen Nog Phantom Rune Sally Shasta Steve Vanilwa Zil __________________ Puddle! Puddle!