Flight from Rohan RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Himaran · 07-27-2003, 02:17 PM

Pio's post

Archim shivered beneath his cloak, though the day was warm. He was glad, for once, to be the tail of the group - riding behind so that his brothers did not see how uncomfortable the nearness to this dark, twisted forest made him. There was an oppressive air under the dry brown leaves. And they rattled at him in a menacing manner, though there was no breeze to stir them.

Falling even farther behind as his two older siblings rode on, he stopped for a moment, his throat gone dry, and reached for his skin of water to take a pull at it. He could hear his brothers’ voices rise and fall, anger marking their words. He sat for a while watching them as they rode further from him. Toying with a lock of his greasy hair, he half considered turning his mount ad heading home . . . or better yet, something away from this mess that Fréa had got them into, and expected him to help clean up. He sighed, pulling his cloak closer about him. No . . . no . . . that would never work. They’d find him and there would be the piper to pay for his ‘disloyalty’. His thoughts continued on down that line. Fat chance they would stick by him if it were him who’d killed the guard, he thought. ‘Oh, Fréa might pay lip service to helping him out, but if push came to shove, I’m sure they’d find a way to shove old “Crow” to the forefront.’ He snorted at these dark meanderings. ‘Leave me to hang to save their own skins, I’ll bet. Then, cry at the funeral.’

His horse had wandered on a bit, close enough to the trees to try a nibble at a scraggly bush that grew beneath one. Archim’s cloak caught on a branch of the tree of the tree near it, or rather, as he thought, the tree had reached out for him and snagged him by the cloak. He was just tugging his cloak from its entanglement, when he thought he saw the trees move apart for a moment, and his eyes caught a grisly sight.

‘Hey!’ he shouted, kicking his horse hard to catch up with his brothers. ‘Hey! Back here!’ he yelled, motioning them back to where he had stopped his mount. He led them to where the scraggly bush stood and pointed in through the trees. The forest had shifted again, and Fréa looked at his brother with growing irritation.

‘Trees? What . . . ?’ Fréa shrugged his shoulders at Graitwa and turned his horse back down the trail. ‘But I saw them,’ murmured Archim, pointing into the forest. Something in his whispered tone caused his brothers to turn back to him. ‘Two horses’ heads . . .their sightless eyes staring back at me . . . gutted . . . fresh blood everywhere, turning the leaves red . . .’

[ July 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

07-27-2003, 02:17 PM	#11
Himaran Ash of Orodruin Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: Thangorodrim Posts: 777	Pio's post Archim shivered beneath his cloak, though the day was warm. He was glad, for once, to be the tail of the group - riding behind so that his brothers did not see how uncomfortable the nearness to this dark, twisted forest made him. There was an oppressive air under the dry brown leaves. And they rattled at him in a menacing manner, though there was no breeze to stir them. Falling even farther behind as his two older siblings rode on, he stopped for a moment, his throat gone dry, and reached for his skin of water to take a pull at it. He could hear his brothers’ voices rise and fall, anger marking their words. He sat for a while watching them as they rode further from him. Toying with a lock of his greasy hair, he half considered turning his mount ad heading home . . . or better yet, something away from this mess that Fréa had got them into, and expected him to help clean up. He sighed, pulling his cloak closer about him. No . . . no . . . that would never work. They’d find him and there would be the piper to pay for his ‘disloyalty’. His thoughts continued on down that line. Fat chance they would stick by him if it were him who’d killed the guard, he thought. ‘Oh, Fréa might pay lip service to helping him out, but if push came to shove, I’m sure they’d find a way to shove old “Crow” to the forefront.’ He snorted at these dark meanderings. ‘Leave me to hang to save their own skins, I’ll bet. Then, cry at the funeral.’ His horse had wandered on a bit, close enough to the trees to try a nibble at a scraggly bush that grew beneath one. Archim’s cloak caught on a branch of the tree of the tree near it, or rather, as he thought, the tree had reached out for him and snagged him by the cloak. He was just tugging his cloak from its entanglement, when he thought he saw the trees move apart for a moment, and his eyes caught a grisly sight. ‘Hey!’ he shouted, kicking his horse hard to catch up with his brothers. ‘Hey! Back here!’ he yelled, motioning them back to where he had stopped his mount. He led them to where the scraggly bush stood and pointed in through the trees. The forest had shifted again, and Fréa looked at his brother with growing irritation. ‘Trees? What . . . ?’ Fréa shrugged his shoulders at Graitwa and turned his horse back down the trail. ‘But I saw them,’ murmured Archim, pointing into the forest. Something in his whispered tone caused his brothers to turn back to him. ‘Two horses’ heads . . .their sightless eyes staring back at me . . . gutted . . . fresh blood everywhere, turning the leaves red . . .’ [ July 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]