Island of Sorrow RPG

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Tasa screamed in horror as she felt a cold and unnatural something prod the barriers of her mind. The very feel of it was wrong in every way.

Let me in. It ordered firmly, searching for a weakness. Tasa screamed again, still trying to fight the ravenous birds. Her golden hair was stained red with the blood that sprayed from above. Limbs and feathers were strewn about her and Malris. He fought amazingly, desperately, but calm. Tasa fought two battles, not knowing which was more dangerous to lose, not caring to find out.

She felt the cold tendrils of thought forcing their way in. She cowered, shrinking toward the wall and toward the warm comfort of Malris. He would protect her... he would not let her be harmed. She dropped her dagger first, clutching at her face with her free hand. There were eyes... she could see eyes, crazed and cold, uncaring and hateful. She wept as she tried to push the vision away.

A cold wind that affected nothing but Tasa pulled at her sword arm, demanding a blood tribute, tearing her sword from her. She held on with as much will as she could muster but it was not enough. Her blade whipped through the air, barely missing Malris. She shrunk against him and he dared not to look, too busy fending off the danger from above.

He is mine, the voice hissed. He was mine and will always be so.

Tasa strove with the voice, with the eyes. She could feel the harsh presence of orcs. She feared for Malris. Her mind was assaulted from all sides. She tried to call to him but her message was distorted and he heard nothing.

She closed her eyes and gasped. She could see faces clearly now, angry, hideous, relentless. She opened her eyes and closed them once more, trying to replace the fear with the bright whiteness of Malris. She began to feel warmer. The assault became less forceful until Tasa felt little sign of it. She gasped for breath, steeling herself for the next attack.

[Anguirel]

Guilt. Guilt.

How could he continue to feel guilt about his attachment to Tasareni so keenly as he fought for her very life? It made no sense, but it was true. It seemed somehow...bound up in the wind...

The crows seemed to be faltering before him now, more inclined to sweep off when he swung Cirlach through the air. Tasa's entrance, her blades drawn, was having a decidedly pronounced effect. As he severed the neck of yet another crow which had lingered just too long, it came to Malris, and he received another confirmation that Orc-spirits indeed were about here.

The whole murder was heading for his friend and ally. He was now nothing more than a distraction. The scavengers were whirling over his head and not returning because he no longer interested them. He had been the bait in this trap, not the mouse.

With a bellow of frustrated fury, he pushed his way towards her. The birds showing most animation, with slashing claws and hideous, experienced eyes, were now about Tasareni. Malris felt another twinge of guilt that caused him an almost physical chill. What was going on here?

"I am Malris," he said, softly at first, but so that it carried, so Tasa would be reassured. Then louder. "I am Malris."

"Crows and orcs and whatever else creeps behind black eyes, know that I was master of this place. I dwelt with my wife..." a sweep to one side, as Cirlach's edges grew pale and furious. An anticlimactic downfall of ragged black feathers.

"I dwelt with my love in the bastion you defile. It is me you have business with! Look to me, and leave the lady alone, lecherous cowards..." a lunge and a crack of a bird's skull. Still the fluctuating curtain of crowmeat kept him from Tasa.

"If any among you have speech...and I have seen Morgoth's craven folk among you...what do you want with us?"