Hunt for the Palantíri RPG

[Orofaniel]

"Rôg, you're staying, I hear," Galhardir said enthusiastically.

"Aye, that's right. We have some more explorations to do," he said, nodding to Bear.

"I see," Galhardir muttered, smiling. "The Bay is a wonderful place, as long as there only are honest Lossoth around," Galhardir then said, thinking back at the Corsairs as the intruders they had been in the beginning. "Indeed," Rôg agreed. "I don't think, however, the Corsairs will return to the Bay any time soon," Rodhal said suddenly. "Hopefully not," Galhardir then said, smiling at his nephew, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious. What if they returned? No, they wouldn't. Not after this. With this Galhardir settled at least.

"Luindal; thank you for everything. We, Rodhal and I, know you'll give Annû and Carandû the most beautiful song they so truly deserve. Hopefully it will be sung for years and years by the finest voices at the Heavens," Galhardir said dreamingly. Smiling weakly, Luindal offered a handshake. Galhardir took it. Then Rodhal offered his tiny hand to the elf. Luindal gave a short laugh, taking the hand in his, praising the boy; "You are indeed a fine boy, Rodhal. Remember that. We shall meet again, perhaps. I certainly shall look forward to it," Luindal said. "Thank you, sir. I will remember that. And perhaps you could come visit us," he said, smiling. The boy looked at his uncle. Galhardir could never have been more proud.

After this adventure, Galhardir and his nephew were returning home. Both of them were happy to say so. Galhardir knew there had been too much of an adventure for his own sake. Rodhal was of the same opinion. The boy was still upset over the death of the elves and the others that died for the cause, and Galhardir knew that it wouldn't be easy for the boy to get over it right away. To be honest, Galhardir would never forget it. The memories, the good and the bad ones, from the ship and the hunt for the Palantiri would live with him forever.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Marreth slurped his fish soup with a grin plastered over his face. Night was falling fast and the Elven ship had made its way out of the Bay and into the open waters. The time had come to begin his escape. Those Elves were foolish if they thought that Marreth could be contained in their simple prison cell. He had escaped from far more dire situations: once, he had slipped away right under the noses of a crowd of Gondorian soldiers. After he got off this wretched ship, he vowed to hunt down that traitorous scum Castamir and slice off his head. If it weren’t for Castamir and his agent Jynne, both Diera and Jarlyn would still be alive. Marreth vowed never to work in the service of anyone else again. From now on Captain Marreth would venture under his own flag and for his own benefit.

Finishing his evening meal, Marreth fingered the key that dangled from a metal chain around his neck. He had been waiting patiently in his room for three days until the Elven guards had slipped into a simple routine, and no longer paid much attention to him. Marreth knew that the Elves generally posted only one guard at the very end of the hallway. This guard brought Marreth his meals twice a day. Breakfast normally consisted of an apple or orange, a slice of stale bread, and a hunk of old cheese. Dinner was often some sort of fish soup or baked fish with a piece of bread just as stale as the one he got for breakfast. Marreth could not help but wonder with longing what scrumptious meals the officers ate......probably roast beef with buttered beans, or ham glazed with honey and steamed carrots. The only drink he ever got was a cup of tepid water. Marreth could have killed for a mug of ale, and if his guard had ever been carrying one when he delivered Marreth’s meals he probably would have.

Carefully he removed the key from around his neck, keeping his bowl in the other hand, and then unlocked the door to his cell. As he slowly turned the key, Marreth heard a soft click and pushed the door slightly ajar. He peaked his head outside and glanced down the corridor. At the end of the hallway he saw a solitary Elf, eyes closed and in deep concentration.

Marreth had once read in the scrolls at the library in Umbar about the Elvish power of communicating by thought over long distances. He wondered if this was what the guard was doing now. Perhaps he was talking to his family about the successful voyage and his speedy return home. Well, he would give him something to remember!

Marreth slunk towards the preoccupied Elf and swung the large stone bowl at his skull with all of his strength. The Elf’s expression turned to one of complete surprise as he fell over unconscious. Marreth made a mental note to reward Hilde handsomely for supplying him with the key if he ever saw her again. That was twice she had saved him. “Just in case you ever find youself locked in a cell somewhere on that awful ship,” she had said with motherly concern in her voice. Of course he had never believed that he would use it, but evidently fate had dictated otherwise. Quickly Marreth swiped the guard’s two-handed broadsword from its scabbard, eager to avoid anyone else who might be passing by.

Then Marreth snuck up on deck. It was empty except for a lone sentry on the far side of the ship; the remainder of the crew must be resting in their quarters. Marreth reached the railing and cautiously lowered one of the lifeboats into the water. Then with a nimble leap, he hurdled over the side and landed in the smaller vessel before the guard even realized what was happening.

Marreth had decided not to return to his ship back in the Bay. For one thing, all of his most trusted officers were dead and he could not trust anyone else from the crew. He wondered if Castamir had any other agents still on board. For another thing, the Lossoth might attack him as soon as he got back, and it was not worth starting a battle. No, the ship and crew held nothing for him now. As Marreth started to row, many uncertainties still plagued his mind: when e would get another ship, how he would make it back to Harad, and just where he would find his next meal. But amid the confusion, one thing remained clear. Marreth would find out where Castamir was and extract bloody vengeance upon his head: vengeance for the Palantiri, vengeance for his fallen officers, but most of all, vengeance for his own betrayal.

[Imladris]

Lord Castamir counted the days since Marreth left. If all went well then he ought to be back soon....or at least have a letter apprehending how the search for the Stones went.

Castamir licked his lips greedily. How he wanted those Stones. They could show him whatever he wanted. It was a power in his hand, a power that would make even kings bow before him. He grinned as fantasies of monarchs pleading for visions of their enemies flitted through his mind. And how rich he could become! The Stones would be a better guard than the men who served him now. It would show him plots whispered in the darkness, devious thoughts hidden under the mantle of fair words.

He sighed contentedly...Marreth would be successful.

A page crept in quietly, a rolled manuscript in his hand. "My lord," he said tremulously, "here is a letter for you from Marreth."

Castamir plucked the letter from the page's hand and gestured him away. Glancing at the parchment, he frowned. The writing was an unseemly scrawl, as if it were written in haste. Marreth's hand was usually long and flowing...

Castamir broke the seal and began to read the letter:

My lord Castamir --

It is my lot to bring you grievous news. It appears that we had a traitor in our midst -- Jynne. He murdered both Jarlyn and Diera...Marreth and Jynne met in battle and our captain killed him...

Castamir frowned. Jynne had been a good choice to carry ou this plans -- pity he let his murdering nature get in the way. On second thought, maybe it was better that Jynne had been slain. It would have been ill if Jynne turned against him..

We gained one Stone and the elves another. In the battle that commenced, however, the elves reclaimed the Stones and will take them into the West.

Castamir frowned and read hungrily on. Hopefully the Corsair who had written this would go on and tell how the captain bravely led them forth in battle and rewon the Stones...

We would have continued to fighty, my lord, but we were as a wounded dog who must slink away to nurse our wounds or die. And Marreth had been captured too....but he escaped and disappeared. We do not know where he is.

Castamir crumpled the letter in his fist, not deigning to read more, and cast it into the fire. His cheeks twitched...his body seethed with frustrated anger. The Corsairs should have died defending the Stones...if the elves outnumbered them then they should have taken the Stones stained with blood to their precious West.

Jynne dead, Marreth gone -- Castamir's cheeks paled. Why had Marreth abandoned the crew in such a fashion? He knew about Jynne. That could be the only explanation. Castamir knew that Marreth would never come back to the lord that had betrayed him. And Castamir could not help but feel a breath of chill tingle in his stomach.

[piosenniel]

~*~ Finis ~*~