Search for Rhûn RPG

[Carlas]

It was getting dark now, and the forest seemed oddly quiet, even with the flies that swarmed around them. It felt as if Durin’s ears were covered and making the noises around him distant and muffled, even the crickets seemed to being chirping quieter than usual. He frowned, this was not how he had imagined Ruhn, he had thought it would be bright and lush, with animals everywhere and the lake, sparkling and shimmering as the legends from his childhood had said. Had they come here for nothing?

Durin looked around at the thick forest all around them. There were many strange plants everywhere and they were now walking towards a large tree, covered in mosses. Durin stopped suddenly, but was pushed forward again as Nerin bumped into him from behind.

“Sorry about that.” Durin said as he straightened up again, and ran up to the front to talk to Dwalin. Nerin shrugged his shoulders and kept walking.

Dwalin looked up as Durin ran up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you use maps often?” Durin asked before Dwalin could say anything. The dwarf looked at him, not quite sure what Durin was going on about. “Well of course! I have done so many times, and am quite a good at it too if I do say so myself.” He answered finally.

Durin smiled. “Well then I’d say it’s the map’s fault.”

“What?” Dwalin asked, surprised at Durin’s response.

“I think we’re going in circles…I’ve seen that tree already!” He answered, pointing over at the tree he had seen earlier.

Dwalin shook his head. “That can’t be, I’m positive we’re going in the right direction, I’ve studied this map.” He smiled and turned back to the path. Durin turned to Hænir and sighed. “I know I’ve seen that tree….”

~*~

It was not long after when Dwalin let them have a short break and the dwarves sat down on the cold earth, happy to be stopping. Durin sat thinking for awhile, tired and still convinced they were going in circles when he heard a quick shriek. All the dwarves turned to see Dwalin pointing at a snake inches from Nerin’s foot. It stopped and turned to Dwalin who now looked completely terrified, and started to work his way over towards the dwarf. Before anyone could do anything, Dwalin started running as fast as he could away from the snake, which quickened its pace, chasing after the poor dwarf.

The Dwarves yelled and jumped up onto their feet to try and pursue the snake. Durin stood up quickly, hoping to help the others, but then noticed the map that Dwalin must have dropped was starting to fly away in the wind. He ran towards the map, but the wind now had it and it was blown away before Durin could grab it. He growled, they might have being going in circles but at least they had had some idea of where they were going with the map…things just couldn’t get worse for the small group of travelers…

“Durin!” someone called from behind. He turned and gasped as he saw Dwalin lying on the ground pale and unconscious. It seemed things were getting worse…

[Will Witfoot]

Gortek used his short sword to hack through the weeds and plants obscuring their path. The vicious, fat-bodied flies buzzed all around him, occasionally landing on his head. Shaking his head to keep the insects away Gortek went on hacking.
It seemed Rhûn was not the land of beauty and peril that most tales would have you believe, he thought. The glorious mountains with their waterfalls were simply a pretty casing, which held inside a country covered by the green and humid hell that was the jungle. He was beginning to suspect that the whole 'death by darkness' part mentioned in the stories was just an account of those who died of the heat or got lost in the jungle. He seriously doubted that anything could live here and still have the necessary energy left to deal out death, let alone by darkness when this place was likely to be at it's most dangerous.

His theory was shattered, however, when during a short break they were taking Dwalin was attacked by a snake. None of the party were quick enough to catch the creature, so they all hurried to it's victim.
While most of the others were busy inspecting their leader's wound, Gortek turned back to one of the lads, Durin, that had been left behind by the sudden rush of Dwalin. He turned just in time to see the young dwarf fail to grab the map that was being borne away by wind.

Gortek couldn't stop a curse in Khuzdul from escaping through his lips. The map could well be their line of life in this hostile land. As fast as his short legs would carry him he raced after it.

Caught up in the furry of the chase, he failed to notice the end of the tree line and the looming edge of the plateau in front of him. Before he knew it, he was tumbling through nothingness with the thought that it hadn't been the brightest of ideas to go running blindly like that in unexplored territory racing through his head. Desperately he struck out with his hands, and his heart skipped a beat out of sheer joy when the fingers of one of his huge paws closed around a small ledge jutting out from the cliff side.
It wasn't enough, however. With his heavy bag filled with provisions adding to his weight, even his strength wasn't enough to get himself up. There was only one option, though a bitter one at that.

Gortek sighed and let his bag fall. He could hear it thump against the rocky cliff side as the wind threw it around like a vicious child. Then, straining all his strength, he began to pull himself up.

[Himaran]

Bali saw Durin run towards him, and noticed the map blow off into the foliage. He grabbed the younger dwarf by the arm. "Stay! We can't have anyone getting lost again." Then he turned his attention to his brother.

Dwalin lay on the ground, writing in pain. The others gathered around him, not sure what action to take. Bali pushed through them. "Give me room, laddies!" He quickly inspected the bite on the twitching dwarf's leg, and grimaced.

"Poisoned. Erulon, prop up his shoulders so it doesn't spread. Nerin, dig some athelas out of the bags, quickly now!" The dwarf knelt again and squeezed the skin around the bite tightly, preventing the deadly venom from spreading. Pulling out his favorite knife, the gift of Halonir the elf, Bali cut into the skin and sqeezed harder. Thankfully, Dwalin was already unconcious, and did not feel the searing pain of the sharp blade. Slowly, the poison began to run out, mixing with blood and spilling out into the sandy ground. Nerin brought the athelas, and Bali administered it to the wound; wrapping the leg with a strip of cloth.

"Keep him propped up and let him rest. Tomorrow, he will feel terrible, but should be good as new in a day or two." It was just then that Bali realized that Gortek was missing.
_______________________

Erulon stayed with Dwalin while the other dwarves hurried after Gortek's path through the forest. Kain was at the front, with Bali just behind. Suddenly, Kain stopped, apparently leaning forward and rapidly losing his balance. Bali slowed and caught him, pulling the young dwarf back. Looking down, Bali could see Gortek pullin himself up. "Rope, rope!" He yelled. But the rope was in Gortek's pack... and the pack was gone. On an instant reaction, Bali eased over the edge, slowly climbing down towards Gortek. The dwarf was barely holding on, having fallen on a steep area. Bali reached out - "The axe! Hand me your axe! Gortex, holding onto a jut with one hand, pulled out his axe and reached out to Bali.

Grabbing the axe, Bali heaved it up onto the plateau. Pulling himself back up, he called the man and elf over. "Hold my legs!" He leaned over the edge headfirst, and grasped Gortek's hand with his own. "Pull!" And pull they did.

______________________


The entire company seemed to have a newfound respect for Bali following the two incidents. Thanks to his treatment, Dwalin was completely recovered by the following day; although he would walk with a slight limp for few weeks. Any sense of distrust was gone, and Bali was now close friends with Gortek. But the company's position had not completely improved. The flies still swarmed around them, and their map was gone.

"We must press on, or these insects will be our deaths," Bali remarked. And so they pressed on, following the edge of the ravine Gortek had nearly died in eastward.

[Arestevana]

Moments had passed, and Maulká grew increasingly edgy. Bestialán appeared to be weighing Nephil’s invitation, testing its merits. Maulká waited for a few tense moments, as eager as a child. It had been many months since she had hunted anything but squirrel, black or no. She shifted her weight impatiently, and Bestialán seemed to notice. The corner of his mouth moved slightly, in what might have been a smile. Then he turned to Nephil to reply.

Maulká bolted. It took some effort not to run, but she managed a quick walk out of the hall. Then she turned and hurried down a corridor, her eyes gleaming. A rack of javelins stood to one side of the hall, opposite a small table. Maulká pulled several of the weapons from their stand and examined them meticulously. If she found imperfections in the wood or disliked the weight of one of the weapons, she placed it back on the rack.

Finally selecting a javelin that was to her liking, the woman crossed to the table on the other side of the hall. From the tabletop she removed a large, square jar and a rag. She dipped the rag into the jar, she withdrew it, dripping liquid, and then ran it up and down the wood of her javelin. Some of the liquid dripped onto her fingers, tingling, but its slight acidic quality could not penetrate her leathery skin. When the liquid had saturated the wood, she leaned the javelin against the wall and brought out a small pouch from about her waist. Inside the pouch were half a dozen hollow darts. Maulká soaked these with liquid as well before returning the rag and the jar to their places on the table. The darts she returned to their pouch, except for one which she put in her mouth.

Returning to a main corridor, Maulka hurried toward the exit onto the jungle. I should be able to catch up to Nephil before he reaches the exit, and Bestialán, if he decided to come, she thought, quickening her step. She rolled the dart in her mouth across her tongue, relishing the bitter, oily taste of the poison. It could not harm her, but the acidic poison caused agony to many other creatures.

Maulká allowed herself a rare smile. It was a rather frightening expression; a bizarre, predatory leer with an uncanny intensity. Rolling the dart in her mouth again, Maulká produced a hissing whistle by blowing across the hollow end. The hallway became brighter as she approached the exit onto the jungle, and Maulká squinted. She halted at the bend where the main corridors met, keeping a corner between her and the blinding twilight of the jungle. Here she could adjust to the light and keep an eye on the tunnels to wait for Nephil and, maybe, Bestialán.