Prisoner of Númenor RPG

[Regin Hardhammer]

Azarmanô listened attentively as Marsillion informed them of the three men of the king’s soldiers that spied on the party, paying attention to every detail of his account. The news was devastating, particularly so because they had just escaped the clutches of this same foe scarcely a day before. His premonitions about future encounters with them had indeed been verified, although Azarmanô sincerely wished that this had not been the case. Their mission seemed to grow more perilous as it proceeded. And he was also sure that there would be more such tribulations in the days to come as they inched closer to Armenelos, Abârpânarú’s prison, and Sauron himself.

But how had the enemy gotten word of their mission? Azarmanô looked around at his companions with suspicion. Had one of their own men betrayed the party? Such a question had never entered his mind until now. There were strangers in the group, men whom he did not know well enough to be certain of their loyalty. Thoronmir, one such stranger, was rash and impetuous, but his quick actions seemed to be done for the benefit of the Faithful, if not with careful consideration. But Abarzadan loomed large in Azarmanô’s eye, especially due to his caustic, sour attitude, and a clear separation between him and the Faithful. He had been quite an enigma up until now, and Azarmanô still did not know his true motives. Although he had not been interested in digging up these secrets, recent events had caused him to view the situation in a different light. Why had the king’s men confronted them to begin with if their mission was one of espionage? The only reasonable conclusion, at least the only one Azarmanô could draw at the moment, was that someone on the inside cooperating with the king had staged the whole incident. And hadn’t Abarzadan been the first one to try and appoint himself as the leader of the group escorting the prisoner? Perhaps he had arranged the ambush so that he could win validity and trust from the group by saving the day. Of course, this was only a theory spun by the onset of shock, but Azarmanô’s suspicion of Abarzadan and his furtiveness nonetheless grew.

A new plan must be developed indeed. The party could not simply march into Armenelos, knock on the dungeon door and ask to speak to the leader of the Faithful. Now that they would be watched, an additional element of secrecy was needed for their entrance into the city. Azarmanô did not relish the thought of arriving at Armenelos and stepping right into the trap of Sauron, earning himself a cell next door to Abârpânarú’s. He spoke with a measure of authority because, he believed, the group was in need of strong leadership at the moment.

“Thank you Marsillion for alerting the group to the king’s spies. Although we scarcely need more dangers in our mission, we will have to deal with them. A new plan is needed. If we act covertly, we may be able to escape their detection, at least for a time. We shall have need of disguises, although I do not know where to obtain such raiment. Perhaps an opportunity shall present itself along the way. We must pose as ruffians whom the king allows to prey upon a group of hapless Faithful. We can boast how we slay them and stole their mounts. Perhaps at night we might hide in the Noirian, the Valley of the Tombs, final home to our kings and queens. I have even heard rumors that there are long, dark passageways within the underground labyrinth connecting the ancient tombs to the dungeon hallways, though I know not if they are true. How does this plan strike you?”

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Inzillomì woke with the dawn, smiling at the sight of silently sleeping children. She knew that the quiet would not last, but it was a small blessing to know that the younglings saw this trip as an exciting adventure. When they realized that they would not be going home after a few days away, things would change and the tension would rise.

"My lady, a word?" A young guard spoke to her. It was not so much a question as a command, but Inzillomì followed wordlessly a short distance away from the group. "They are precious, are they not?" He nodded toward the children and she allowed him a smile.

"Yes. They most certainly are. They do not understand this trip, and I would prefer that it long stay that way. There is no need for them to be afraid."

The guard bristled. Though he worked for the King with devotion, he was kind and compassionate. "Inzillomì Elendili, we guards are no fools. Any tricks and your mounts will be given into the service of the King and his men. Should any mishaps occur this day, we are on a tight schedule and will not stop. Care should be taken by your people."

She looked at the man shrewedly. He knew of the fall, that much was apparent. What she did not know is if he had seen fit to share that knowledge. His eyes were kind... he understood their reluctance, and knew that a certain number of tricks were to be expected. He was young, but he was one of the brightest. "Sir, I thank you for your words of wisdom," she said, revealing nothing. "I can only hope that no more unfortunate accidents will happen... we cannot afford time lost, and I would hate to see a good man such as yourself blamed for our tardiness."

She walked back to camp to take a crying infant into her arms. He calmed quickly as she walked slowly beneath the trees. There will be no tricks this day... she thought. We cannot afford to draw suspicion... I can only hope that my Cerveth is safe and travelling quickly... There is nothing that I can do now to help...