Mirkwood Endgame RPG

[piosenniel]

Taralphiel's post for Eriador and Taralphiel

Taralphiel slumbered restlessly in the branch of a tree, her cheek pressed against the soft fur of the wolf pup Khelek. She had lost count of the nights she had spent just this way, and the increasing disturbance of what she saw while she slept.

Hr dreams lead her through another dark passage, her fingers could feel the moist dank of the rough walls. And in the corner, shown only with a sliver of the moons’ light, a figure sat slumped in the corner. Her hair dangled off his brow in dregs, down over his eyes. He looked in rags, though her skilled eyes could make out those rags had once been regal garments of a soldier, a warrior. His breastplate still shone, though dully. But all other sign of his place were gone, not a sword, nor a shield.

Taralphiel did not need any more detail to discern who this man was. She called out to him, her voice becoming hoarse, though those slumbering beside her could only hear whimpers. She cried out his name, and pleaded with him.

“Eriador, please! I am here! Listen to me!”

The figure looked up, his eyes still veiled, his head moving about, his shoulders stretching back. Even in the muck of his prison, Eriador looked as though he held some hope, though his body would not recognize it. She could hear his laboured breathing as he whispered to himself.

“This dreams…they are so vivid. I wonder what it is she is doing now…”

Eriador lifted his head to the small gap in the tall cell, so the moonlight could light up his face, and Taralphiel could see his familiar, yet now care-worn face.

“I will work my way out of this cell, and back to her, so I am not haunted so….”

Taralphiel jerked her head up from its rest against Khelek, and sighed. She sat up and pressed her palms to her face, shrugging her sore shoulders with effort. Khelek turned a curious glance up at her, and she threw him a weary smile.

“These dreams grow longer, that is all. I shall manage…”

[piosenniel]

Tevildo's post

“Ma’am, I have come swiftly as you requested.” Turon respectfully bowed to Lady Galadriel and her consort while silently wondering why they had summoned him here. On a number of occasions, he had carried messages for Galadriel outside the vail of Lórien. He had returned from such an assignment a few days earlier and had hoped to be able to spend time with family and friends.

He always found such long journeys difficult. Every time he stepped out of the forest, he felt as if he was entering a different world, one where he truly did not belong. It was not easy to be pulled away from the timeless veil of the forest and pressed into service in other lands where even the passage of the days felt different. He found this sensation particularly disconcerting when dealing with other Elves whose ways of doing and thinking were so different. One day he had questioned Galadriel about that strange sensation of slipping from one time to another, and she had laughed with a pure silver voice tinged with sadness, “Yes, Turon. Someday when you journey to the West, it is you who will feel comfortable and they who will feel odd. We cling to old times and old ways but most of Arda, even enclaves like Rivendell and the northern forests, already have one foot in the world of Men.”

Turon’s musings were interrupted by Galadriel’s words, “I am sorry to ask this, but we must learn more. I have seen strange things in my mirror. You must journey to the forests of the north, that which is now called Mirkwood, and bring me a report. We have heard of the spread of evil, terrible evil, within the forests of the north. You must leave tomorrow. First, travel to the court of Thranduil. Perhaps he will know something of what has occurred or will have sent out a party himself. If so, you may need to join them. Whatever happens, you must stay in touch with me by Osanwe, that we may learn what is happening and whether these events pose a threat to our own lands. ”

Then they sat down to discuss the details of Turon’s journey. An hour later, the younger Elf stood up to take his leave. Bowing respectfully to Galadriel and Celeborn, Turon repeated his promise that he would report back information and, if needed, do everything in his power to take a stand against the doom that now seemed to be spreading over Mirkwood. He left the meeting with a heavy heart as he considered the long and uncertain road ahead. For as long as anyone could remember, Thranduil and Galadriel had not been friendly, apparently the result of an ancient coldness that had arisen between the Sindarin Elves and the Noldor. They were not enemies, but neither were they friends. He was the first envoy to be sent to the court of Thranduil in a very long time. He wondered whether he would find kindness and courtesy there or something very different. And the thought of joining a scouting party of Elves from Mirkwood did not please him…..

[piosenniel]

Eiz' post for Muru

A dark figure flew silently over the treetops. The morning sun was blighted, appearing as if dusk instead of dawn, and so the shape seemed as a dark batlike shape, skimming overhead. An icy breeze followed it, and the leaves rustled dryly, as if afraid to make a sound.

The shape took a more solid form as it reached the ground near the entrance of the fortress. It was a tall female figure, that cast her cold gaze about. She frowned as she noted the encampent at the foothill of Dol Guldor.

"He sends more dogs instead of using stealth," she muttered disapprovingly. "Pity the girl is cautious. It would have been interesting to ensnare one so young with so much talent."

A human maiden had been part of the group the Orc was trying to capture. Wargarz would not have known the group's presence if it had not been for her. But since finding out about the human female, the vampire's interest had gone up. Now Muru had an agenda of her own.

If she could capture and bend the human, it would be a pleasing addition for her Master to use as a tool. It would be better than those weak-willed prisoners the orc had been sending her.

It was always a challenge to corrupt elves. Humans were easier to bend. But sometimes there were those who were exceptional. Far back, she could only recall the tale of Hurin among the few who had been such an exception. It was a great pleasure to finally see them bent in misery.

Yes, she thought silently as she entered the fortress, it would be quite a catch to not only get the elves, but the human as well.

[piosenniel]

Vitto's post

The orc sat contemplating the reports before him. He was heavily armored in chainmail and armor plating. A heavy broadsword laid on the table in front of the heavyset figure. Several groups of orcs were coming in from the woods as another group headed out, but the orc captain take no notice.

Warzgarz grunted and leaned back in his seat. He looked up, gazing about the encampment. His sharp eyes missing nothing. He noted the warg-riders about to move out. These would be meeting up with another group further south and eventually would be replaced by another group to be honed.

Reports had been coming in about a small group being spotted, but it was inconsistent. He was unsure at this point where the reported group was now.

No matter, he thought, what could a small group do? They would be captured. Muru, the vampire, would have her pets continue to scout and would eventually find them. And they would be dealt with accordingly.

A small grin formed at thje corner of his lips. It had been some time since they'd tasted fresh meat.

"Gorbagzh! Get word to the Warg-riders on patrol to add their number to each group. I want them to sweep their area thoroughly!"

A lanky orc in leather armor acknowledge his command and headed towards the group getting ready for their patrol.

[piosenniel]

Thalionyulma’s post for Rinurion

The Party at the Elven King’s realm:

The breeze rustled the leaves above the branches over head. Rinurion looked up, still in deep thought. Alot had happened the past few weeks, and a growing uneasiness in him would not go away.

It had all began when his patrol with Legolas had intercepted a group of men. The ElvenKing had let one go, but a dark elf followed his trail. Anarya and Prince Legolas had gone as well to watch where the man headed to. Although Legolas had returned shortly, Anarya had continued the quest with the dark elf. No word had come back since then.

No, his uneasiness stemmed more from another elf. One who was one of them it seemed. But he had been unable to pursue his suspicions. He and three others were captured in the ElvenKing's territory by orcs. No one knew how they were able to enter the kingdom without detection. It had been another elf from Lorien that aided their rescue.

Deagon still lived and continued to join the patrols. Rinurion could do nothing more than watch closely.

Another elf appeared nearby, it was Laryelion of Lorien. He walked over to where Rinurion sat on a fallen bole.

"How went the patrol?" asked Laryelion.

"It has been quiet for some time, but who can say for how long?" came the answer.

"You watch him closely," Laryelion said quietly. Rinurion looked at the elf at that and wondered if he should share his uneasiness.

Gayahithwen carry a basket of berries from the woods. Several other elf maidens were with her. She espied the two and came over.

"Good day Rinurion! Everything is well, I hope?" The young elf maiden asked, smiling.

[piosenniel]

Eiz’ post for Deagon

Deagon walked silently through the path in the forest. He had just finished with the patrol, and as usual left the group to be alone. The tall elf was aloof nowadays, even from those who were his friends and companions.

He was in deep thought when he caught sight of Gayahithwen and the other kitchen elves. She waved to another elf. He stopped when he saw who it was- Rinurion. And with him was the elf from Lorien, Laryelion.

Rinurion was the one elf in Mirkwood he had constantly tried to avoid. Everytime they crossed paths, he could see in the other's eyes the distrust. And the heavy guilt he bore pained him as much as the helplessness he felt.

He sighed and walked away. To be alone again. Alone since Elenloth was captured by the enemy. It was because of that fact he had tried to trade Gayahithwen and another elf maiden Amaryllis for her release. Rinurion had foiled that, and with Laryelion's aid, had rescued them. There was an argument between him and the orcs. They refused to take him to Elenloth, nor assure him of her release.

Amaryllis and Gayahithwen had persuaded Rinurion not to deal harshly with him. He had been released after being cleared. The elf maiden had said that the orcs had ambushed them. She had not revealed he had led them to the orcs. She had spoken to him afterwards, but he had kept silent.

What could they do even if he told them that his sister had been captured? Should he seek aid, it would endanger Elenloth's life. He had made a bargain, forced upon him. He had tracked down the orcs, but they were many. His companions were killed or taken, but he was released. And he was promised the freedom of his sister if he fulfilled part of that bargain.

[Tevildo]

Turon watched as the early morning sunshine filtered through the leafy bower in which he had slept. He had tarried longer than he had intended; it was time to be moving again. Forcing himself to swallow a piece of lembas, he climbed down from the tree, softly whistling for his horse Lessa who was off nibbling at some foliage in the next glade. Lessa was a common pack animal, nothing fancy to look at, but well suited to the rugged terrain; King Thranduil had presented the steed to him almost a week before.

His welcome at the court in Mirkwood had been warmer than he had expected. Thranduil had listened carefully to the words Galadriel had sent. When Turon had finished his explanation, the King had told him what little he knew of the shadow that was spreading over the forest. Mostly, it was a tale of woe, one filled with threatening spiders and attacks of unknown origin that had befallen many an unsuspecting Elf. Turon listened carefully, scarcely believing what he was hearing. He wondered whether his own beloved Lorien would someday find itself in such a dire situation. But, no, that could not be. Surely Galadriel would protect them. Still, he felt uneasy.

Thranduil had told him about an expedition sent into the woods, led by Rûdhchamion, that was to search out the cause of all these dire happenings. The King had suggested that he attempt to pick up the trail left by the travellers. He had given Turon a fine map to take with him as well as a number of supplies he was to bring to Rûdhchamion: food and weapons and other useful things. The map had proven useless but after a week of searching Turon had finally stumbled upon the trail of the Elves. Today, or tomorrow at the latest, he should meet up with them in person. Turon was somewhat puzzled by the footprints he had found. The group appeared to be travelling with someone not of Elven blood; the prints suggested a young woman who was barely older than a girl. And there had also been some strange animal paws that reminded Turon of a wolf. Thranduil had told him nothing of these things.

Filling his leather bottle with water, Turon tightened Lessa's cinch and led her forward through the woods. The scent of the dog made the trail easy to follow since it was so distinctive. Very soon, in perhaps another hour or two, he hoped to catch a glimpse of the campsite. An uneasy feeling stirred inside him. The King had treated him with courtesy and good faith, but what sort of reaction would he get from Rûdhchamion and his crew? Perhaps not quite so open and welcoming? For the hundredth time, Turon sincerely wished that he was back home with his family instead of chasing after shadows inside a dark and foreboding land.