Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 09-12-2006, 06:12 PM   #223
Formendacil
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Hyarmenwë and Maika had been travelling for a good hour when a rather attention-demanding cough caused them to turn around. Hyarmenwë, who had been thinking that his sorry nag might not be so sorry if it had a proper grooming, and had been thinking of various ways to go about it, was surprised indeed to see that strange, anakronistic... half-elf person from the laundry room trailing them.

"I beg your pardon, good elder," he addressed Hyarmenwë, "but you've got my handkerchief." He pointed at Hyarmenwë's boot where, indeed, a very dirty, blood-stained handkerchief was stuck. The blood, which had been damp and sticky back in the laundry room had dried, bonding the handkerchief to his boot. With a tug, Hyarmenwë ripped it up, and dourly handed it to Elrogorn.

"Is there any particular reason why you waited a good hour before speaking up?" asked Maika. "I assume you've been following us the whole time?"

"Yes, I've been following," said Elrogorn, "but it took me until now to catch up."

"Why didn't you stop me before I left that... room... or in the halls?" asked Hyarmenwë.

"You were talking," said Elrogorn, as if it were really quite simple. "Far be it from me to rudely interrupt so intriguing a conversation my mundane request for a dirty handkerchief."

"And then, once you had shaken yourself out of this politeness, you followed us on foot for an hour, rather than just shouting and catching our attention?" Maika asked.

"Pretty much, yes," said Elrogorn, flashing her a smile that said he had planned it that way.

"Hold on..." said Hyarmenwë. "These are a couple of sorry nags, but they aren't that slow. You caught up to us on foot? You aren't even out of breath! You're as fresh as a garden vegetable!"

"Why, thank you," said Elrogorn, with a smooth bow. "But I can move quickly when I need to. It runs in the family, really. My uncle Aragorn was known as 'Strider', you know, and my mother's godfather, Tom Bombadil, was well-able to keep pace with hobbits riding ponies, and my legs are much longer than his."

"I still think a wise man would have shouted us down a good fifty-nine minutes ago," interjected Maika. "Why didn't you?"

"Having heard your conversation, my curiosity was piqued," said Elrogorn. "I know the tavern you travel to quite well. As nephew of the great King Elessar, I'm something of the Bonnie Prince Charlie of Mordor- minus the legitimate claim, of course. Though I don't know that the Gondmordorians are really of a Jacobite bent. In any case, as a someone who knows the dangers of Wereducks in the Wild, and having sworn to let none fall to their bills, it is only appropriate that I join the two of you on your journey, and not leave you to their dastardly clutches."

"So, basically, you didn't say anything so that we'd have to let you join us?" said Maika.

"Yes, pretty much," agreed the part-Elf. "I am Elrogorn, son of Elrohir, and if by life or death or something uncanonical I can protect you, I will. You have my sword, and my bow, and my dagger, and my Swiss Army Knife."

Neither Maika or Hyarmenwë said a word, but simply spurred their horses into continuing on, while Elrogorn followed at a trot behind them.
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