Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 08-26-2006, 03:08 PM   #196
Formendacil
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"Oh, come on! What's anakronistic about stepping into a wardrobe?"

Hyarmenwë could think of all sorts of reasons why he's rather not step into the wardrobe, but none of them were pertinent to the question, and he allowed himself to be talked into it...

...and stepped out into a rather empty-looking field of grain, not a person, tree, fence, rock, or interesting thing in sight. Only a stream in the far distance meandering down from distant mountains.

"Where are we?" Hyarmenwë gazed around, a bit concerned.

"Nurnia," explained Maika, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The Wardrobe leads to Nurnia."

Well, Hyarmenwë knew that Nurn had been the breadbasket of Sauron's empire, and it stood to reason that that was where they were. Precisely how that was supposed to relate to the wardrobe, he hadn't the foggiest idea. He also didn't want to know. It smacked of anakronism, and he had more important things to do, anyway.

"What I wished to speak to you about, Lady Maika," he began, "is a matter on which we have, I think, a certain amount of shared interest. You wish, I deem, to see certain of those Assigned to Mordor legitimate ability to return to Gondor- including yourself, I think. Well, it so happens that I have someone in Mordor I wish to find, and likewise restore to Gondor. My daughter was Assigned on birth for the unhappy name my wife gave her."

Something stirred in Maika. What, Hyarmenwë couldn't say, but clearly she was interested.

"How old would she be? And what was the unlucky name?" Maika whipped out her palm pilot.

"She'd be about ten, fifteen years younger than you," said Hyarmenwë, glaring at the palm pilot. "As to her name, I do not know. My wife refused to utter it when I returned and found our daughter gone."

"I'll need as exact an age as you can give," said Maika. "She'd be twenty-ish, then?"

"Eighteen... I think," Hyarmenwë scoured his mind. What year had that been? He'd tried so hard to put it out of his mind, that he wasn't quite sure. And age didn't help either.

Again, there was that flicker on Maika's face. She appeared ready to say something, but Hyarmenwë, irked at the look she was giving the palm pilot, a look entirely too used to it, grabbed the palm pilot, and tossed it away into the grains.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" Maika demanded to know, every bit as royally enraged as a Gondorian noble.

"If I am to reintegrate you into Gondor, you must try to live without anakronisms, Lady Maika," said Hyarmenwë. "As few as possible, preferably none."

"Just a second," snapped Maika, "We have no agreement yet!"

"Then I put it to you now," said Hyarmenwë, a good deal more composed than Maika was. "You know my offer. Do you accept?"
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