The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

Orofaniel · 01-26-2005, 10:59 AM

He had noticed the weary looks his mother had sent him the last couple of days. But at the same time Evrathol felt that this was no new phenomenon. He managed to see why his mother was worried, because she always acted like this when her husband retired to this one room. Evarthol wasn't quite sure what kept the man there for such long periods at a time, but it seemed like nothing could disturb him there, as if he was in another world where not even his family had the power to bring him back...home.

The door was closed. Evarthol knew Arlöme was trying to convince Môrgos that it was time to show that his other cases were equally prioritised. The hallway was rather dark considering the early hour. Evrathol closed up, and felt a short quiver as he walked. The ruthless coldness the hallway showed at this particular hour was something Evrathol had never noticed before.

Evrathol was going to do something totally out of character; eavesdrop- Like he did when he was a child knowing no other way to gain the information he was looking for.

The conversation was flowing gradually between the two of them, Evrathol could hear that much. Arlome was concerned about her husband as he had walled himself up for two whole days not thinking about the outside world and the people that depended on him. "Irresponsible and…..," Evrathol thought. He was then filled with regrets. He didn’t want to think ill of his own father - his flesh and blood. How could he be so ungrateful? Môrgos had been an excellent and most noble father for him, and he still was, even though Evrathol was old enough to take care of himself. They were still father and son however, which meant that they had a special bond – or so he’d always thought a relationship between a father and a son would be. He might have been wrong though. They were like to drops of water. This however was only in the appearance. Their personality and views on many things were surprisingly different from one and other. Evrathol believed he had the spirit of his mother. His loyalty however, lied with both, and he wouldn’t do anything that would offend them.

He'd almost forgotten that he was here to find out more about the situation, as he was caught up in his own thoughts and theories.

He heard quick footsteps and knew that one of them were one their way out. His head spun. He didn’t want them to find out that he'd eavesdropped. It was such a foul thing to do for a character like himself. His childish actions didn’t suit his character at all, nor was it acceptable to go on doing this. He needed to confront them. However this was not the most suitable time to think this through as the footsteps were getting closer. The door was opening. Evrathol stood behind it, holding his breathe.

His father's faint figure disappeared quickly as he made his way through the hallway, not even offering the door another glance. Evrathol could spot him through a tiny crack. He sighed with relief. He pushed the door slightly. Within moments the door was once again shut. His mother was on the other side of the door. What she was doing Evrathol could only guess. Strengthening his velvet tunic he made his way back through the dark hallway, not feeling any wiser than when he’d first entered it.

01-26-2005, 10:59 AM	#157
Orofaniel Mighty Mouse of Mordor Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: Lands of the North, where no man can reach.... Posts: 825	Evrathol He had noticed the weary looks his mother had sent him the last couple of days. But at the same time Evrathol felt that this was no new phenomenon. He managed to see why his mother was worried, because she always acted like this when her husband retired to this one room. Evarthol wasn't quite sure what kept the man there for such long periods at a time, but it seemed like nothing could disturb him there, as if he was in another world where not even his family had the power to bring him back...home. The door was closed. Evarthol knew Arlöme was trying to convince Môrgos that it was time to show that his other cases were equally prioritised. The hallway was rather dark considering the early hour. Evrathol closed up, and felt a short quiver as he walked. The ruthless coldness the hallway showed at this particular hour was something Evrathol had never noticed before. Evrathol was going to do something totally out of character; eavesdrop- Like he did when he was a child knowing no other way to gain the information he was looking for. The conversation was flowing gradually between the two of them, Evrathol could hear that much. Arlome was concerned about her husband as he had walled himself up for two whole days not thinking about the outside world and the people that depended on him. "Irresponsible and…..," Evrathol thought. He was then filled with regrets. He didn’t want to think ill of his own father - his flesh and blood. How could he be so ungrateful? Môrgos had been an excellent and most noble father for him, and he still was, even though Evrathol was old enough to take care of himself. They were still father and son however, which meant that they had a special bond – or so he’d always thought a relationship between a father and a son would be. He might have been wrong though. They were like to drops of water. This however was only in the appearance. Their personality and views on many things were surprisingly different from one and other. Evrathol believed he had the spirit of his mother. His loyalty however, lied with both, and he wouldn’t do anything that would offend them. He'd almost forgotten that he was here to find out more about the situation, as he was caught up in his own thoughts and theories. He heard quick footsteps and knew that one of them were one their way out. His head spun. He didn’t want them to find out that he'd eavesdropped. It was such a foul thing to do for a character like himself. His childish actions didn’t suit his character at all, nor was it acceptable to go on doing this. He needed to confront them. However this was not the most suitable time to think this through as the footsteps were getting closer. The door was opening. Evrathol stood behind it, holding his breathe. His father's faint figure disappeared quickly as he made his way through the hallway, not even offering the door another glance. Evrathol could spot him through a tiny crack. He sighed with relief. He pushed the door slightly. Within moments the door was once again shut. His mother was on the other side of the door. What she was doing Evrathol could only guess. Strengthening his velvet tunic he made his way back through the dark hallway, not feeling any wiser than when he’d first entered it.