The Fellowship of the Fourth Age (Part 1): A New Beginning RPG

[Novnarwen]

The camp was in chaos, in utter confusion. It was a rather strange scene, Eirnar admitted; all around, people were running like ants, either withdrawing to a 'safe' place or gathering in the centre of the camp. At first, the Gondorian had refused to believe what had happened; Two children, kidnapped? How? It didn't take long before last night's thoughts came to him again, and a rage he was unfamiliar with took him. "Quickly! We must follow their trail! Khamir, we cannot just stand here! We must do something!" he had cried out, only to find Khamir standing close by. Soon after, the mad-woman Aedhild had come, springing forwards, her eyes wild with excitement, screaming 'traitor;' though the minute Khamir had grabbed her by the arm, she had fallen silent and her eyes went glossy once more. Eirnar didn't know whether the woman was referring to Khamir or anyone else, but perhaps she was not the mad-woman they suspected her of being after all. If she spoke the truth or not, he probably would never know, but after tonight, he would certainly watch her moves more closely.

Strange and unexpected events seemed to have become normal. A woman named Johari had suddenly made her voice heard, speaking very freely of what she thought of tonight's events and a possible reaction. Eirnar’s first response to what she had to say was of reproach; he didn't approve of her words in the slightest. So, she didn't care whether they went after their children or not? She seemed to take much for granted that woman. This decision could determine the fate of all of them; if they went to rescue the children, they could risk bumping into a much larger band of bandits, and they would surely be killed. A gang of hungry and thirsty slaves, not to mention exhausted slaves, could not fight and win. It would be impossible. If they chose to sacrifice the youngsters, and leave the camp now, they could make it. However, this too, could fail. If the bandits chose to follow them, the slaves would be forced to pick up the pace, and ultimately, the bandits would tire them out and strike, vulnerable as they would be. Their ruin would be a fact; they could forget about their freedom, their hopes and dreams. No, this decision was too important for anyone not to care.

He wanted to interrupt, to make her stop; a fierce tongue was all she appeared to have, but then she did seem to have a strong opinion after all. Whether she really cared or not, Eirnar couldn't possibly tell for sure, but her words seemed to bend into a direction he hadn't expected from her opening lines. Letting his gaze wander, he watched some of the others, their eyes fixed at the woman. Sure, she had charisma and she governed her facial expressions so that they seemed pleasant, passionate and sincere.

"You cannot continue to treat all of us as children to be looked after. And I want to know what you propose to do about it.”

Immediately, he shot a glance at Khamir. Although, his face didn't reveal what he was thinking, he stood glued to the ground, his mouth half open as if about to reply.

"No! Let him not propose a single thing more. Here we are, in the middle of this dark land, as unsafe as ever... and who led us here?" Eirnar breathed heavily, not knowing what to say next. He paused for a minute, biting his lip before continuing.

"No, two children are missing and we will have to do something. Our decision on what we choose to do will without a doubt have great impact on what becomes of us.. so... in other words, one man is not going to decide what we are going to do! And if we are children to him... well, he will see that we are not..."

[Tevildo]

"Are you alright?" called Azhar to Kwell.

"Alright? What do you think? They tried to get information out of me. Information about the slaves....where they were going and how they got here. I guess they think they'll get extra money if they return us all to the plantation we're from. That malt-worm Imak threatened to have his dogs tear me in pieces if I didn't speak up. I spat in his face and wouldn't tell him anything. He said I'd better talk tomorrow."

"So what are you going to do?" interjected the girl.

"I'll talk. I want to get out of here alive. But I'll tell them a pack of lies with a straight face. They'll never know the difference."

"It's dangerous Kwell. What if they find out?"

"They won't find out. I'm too smart for that. And what if they do?" Kwell shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways I expect tomorrow they'll start on you." Then he added bitterly, "I don't expect you'll last too long."

Azhar's face blanched white as she considered the possibility of having to stand up to a brute like Imak. For all her new found resolve and desire to start over, she felt Kwell had a point. She had no idea if she could hold out.

There was silence in the pit for some time. Azhar could feel her stomach growling, and she was pitifully thirsty. The maddening thing was that just to her left, in what was apparently a side tunnel, she could hear the sound of water gurgling. Azhar thought it might be possible to use the rocky footholds to climb up to the top of the cave, but the slavers had sealed off the entrance with a grating and stationed a guard immediately outside.

Suddenly, there was a small insistent noise, almost like a sawing, coming from the far side where Kwell was hunched over near the wall.

"What are you doing" she demanded.

"Trying to get these cursed ropes off. I've found a sharp rock, and I think I can do it." For the next half hour, there was more sawing and then a muffled cry of triumph as Kwell burst free of his restraints. He slipped the ropes off his legs and ran over to where Azhar was bound, using the same sharp edge to cut through her cords. Then Kwell put the rock inside his pocket, thinking it might come in hand for any number of interesting purposes. Freed from their restraints, the two children crept noiselessly over to the brook and drank their fill.

"Ugh look!" As Azhar finished drinking, she pointed to a slithering snake that was making its way down into the water. It was less than a foot in length.

Kwell looked at her and grinned, "I have an idea." Azhar shrank back in horror as Kwell took the snake by the tail and, still holding it, began to clamber up the side of the cave, using the rocky ledges and footholds to make his way to the top. She could see Kwell peer into the darkness; it was quiet in the encampment and the guard had fallen asleep. The boy tried unsuccessfully to move the grating. Although it was securely fastened, he was still able to put his hand between the wooden grates and feel about with his fingers. Azhar waited below, not sure what he was doing. At one point, she actually thought he heard him squeal in delight. When he came back down, he had a wider grin on his face, and the snake was gone.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"Never mind, you'll find out tomorrow. Now tie the ropes back on but loosely. Just make it look good so they think we were tied up all night."

Just before falling asleep, Azhar whispered to Kwell, "When do you think they'll come for us? The other slaves?"

"You must be joking. They won't come. They'll only care about their own necks. In this world, it's everybody for himself." For the next few minutes, Kwell could hear the soft sounds of sobbing from across the cave. He looked up and said something that was out of character, "Hey, Azhar, don't worry. We'll make it alright. Stick with me, and I'll take care of you." The sobbing stopped and there was silence as both children fell asleep.

[Undómë]

Brenna


Old habits die hard, and especially for one who has been under the thumb…the eye..the lash of others for so long. The old feelings came up, shouting Danger! Be quiet; be small! Invisible…

Brenna was rooted to the spot she stood on..and that standing a precarious one from the blow she’d received from the slavers. Her eyes were cast down, shoulders hunched, arms hugging herself, as if to make her already small frame smaller still. There were angry words flying about and strong gestures and posturings. She shrank away from the hot words, the fiery waves that flashed from person to person.

Brenna withdrew to a small rise apart from those who were talking. And while it brought her some feeling of safety, it brought only a cold comfort. Two children were gone, snatched back by foul hands to that hateful life they had hoped was left behind.

‘Kwell…Azhar…’ she spoke aloud. Naught but the night and a small bird, a nightjar she thought, perched on the twisted limb of a stunted tree nearby could hear her. ‘I remember now.’ Their faces emerged from the crowd of those on the dusty trail of their escape route. ‘Those were their names; the ones those fiends took away,’ she said aloud again, making them more real to herself. ‘Kwell and Azhar. They were just at that twist in the road leading on to being a man, being a woman.’ She rubbed at her eyes. ‘Those demons should have taken me. I’ve spent all my life under the lash. What would a few more years matter.’ She rolled up her ragged sleeve, baring her left arm. The skin of her forearm bore an old scar, nearly lost amid the old bruises and scars left from hard work and punishments. It marked her as a slave, as someone who belonged to someone, somewhere.

She held her arms up in the moonlight. ‘But not forever…not forever…’

Brenna sat back down, her hand straying to a small flat rock lying near. ‘Bran, Nevan,’ she sighed, bringing her brothers’ still young faces into her mind. She picked up the stone, turning it over and over in her hand. ‘If only you would find me. You would stand up for the two taken, I’m sure of it. You would shout we should go north and take them back.’ She took out her small scythe and began to scratch a design into the stone’s surface. A few tears fell on the marks and she hastily wiped them away with her sleeve. ‘But I can’t…I can’t…’ She balanced the rock carefully on a pile of twigs near her little camping space.

Pulling her ragged shawl about her thin shoulders, she looked up toward the moon, wishing it were the sun instead and they were up and on their way to somewhere. Running or rescue…either, as long as they were moving along, no time for thinking. The small, plain bird hopped along the branch, craning his head at her, one bright black eye giving her a considering look.

‘Little Bird,’ she murmured, rocking back and forth a little on her haunches. ‘That’s what they called me…my brothers…when we played our games of hide and seek…’

[Nogrod]

Hadith & Johari

Rebellion! This is rebellion! Hadith was shocked for what he heard. Johari had started it and then Eirnar had followed. Now many others were murmuring and exchanging angry glances around, searching for a culprit. Why are they rising against those who try to help us and without whom we would be lost? Hadith just couldn’t understand. We wouldn’t have any weapons, we wouldn’t know what to do... During his two months of freedom he had learned that there were lots of things he knew nothing about or didn’t understand at all, but still the reality managed to surprise him time after time, especially this day.

And he was even more puzzled of Eirnar’s calls. If one or two of the wisest old stagers shouldn’t decide, then who should? Surely I couldn’t decide, neither could Eirnar, or the children for that matter... Too important for just one man to decide? But how could we decide it together as we all are with so different minds about what to do?

Hadith rose up leaving Khala and Cuáran to take care of the older man. The older women exchanged looks shaking their heads. “He’s too young and naive to meddle with this kind of things”, Khala said to Cuáran quietly. “Should I call him back? His mother would have.”

“Maybe you should, but he might learn something from this.” Cuáran answered thoughtfully, handing the last clean linens to Khala. “If there is time for anyone of us to make use of what we have learned in life...” she muttered, watching emptily to the horizon. Khala nodded and secured the last knot on the bandages of the older man.

Hadith spotted Johari some twenty yards away from him. She was standing straight, looking around her defiantly, seemingly pleased of the reaction she had roused. “Johari!” he shouted and ran towards the woman, not giving a second thought of what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” he called to her in anguish, panting from the run as he approached. “You are not helping us, you are making things worse!” he yelled at her as he finally reached her. He was more than agitated but tried to remain as calm as possible. He saw many heads turning to hear this exchange of words. To his horror he noticed that also Khamir was near enough to probably hear what he was saying.

“Why, Johari? Why?”

"Making things worse?" Johari raised her eyebrows skeptically. "They are already bad, and need to be fixed. How others choose to react is not my responsibility - all the better if they listen."

Hadith was again totally baffled by her answer. He just couldn’t see the link between fixing things and arousing unrest in a time of trouble. "If we just quarrel here and rise against one another, we'll surely be lost!" he exclaimed fervently. "How do you fix it without those who know better than we do?"

Exasperation was clear in Johari's face. "Without them? I never said that. I told them to fix it."

Hadith was speechless for a moment. In his passion he probably had mixed the calls of Johari and Eirnar together to a one dangerous idea that could turn all in chaos and against which he would have to fight. But it was also true, that he seemed to be a bit confused when he talked with Johari anyway. Her answers were not the ones that could be anticipated and thence it was really hard to discuss with her as easily as with others. Still, that didn't change his basic frustration.

"Don't you think they are thinking about what's best to us already?" he asked her in the end. "Do you think that rousing all the people helps them with their thinking?"

"What are you now, their spokesperson?" asked Johari, rapidly becoming annoyed. "Whether they're thinking of our welfare or not, what they're doing is not working, and I do not intend to be unprepared when the slavers come back for us. You may have been 'rewarded' with a knife, but look at the rest of us, why don't you? I'm looking out for myself, Hadith, and I don't care too much about what the rest of the people here make of it." Her dark eyes glittered dangerously, daring him to challenge her further.

Hadith saw the fire in her eyes and took a step back just to be on the safe side. This woman really has temper. How are you supposed to get on with this kind of people? Hadith was quite at loss.

But something she had said had hit him and hit him hard. The way she uttered the word 'rewarded' brought all his self-accusations and his own insecurity to the fore. Against his better judgement he answered, seeking so calm tone of voice he could amidst the maelstrom of his feelings.

"There is only certain number of arms around. They have given them to those they have deemed able to yield them to secure us all. Is there a more reasonable way you would have distributed them?" A certain defiance had crept into his voice as he uttered the last words. He looked at Johari firmly but was totally panicked inside.

Hadith had pushed Johari beyond reason. Who was he, barely more than a boy, to deign to tell her what to do? Annoyance giving way to fury, in a single movement she stepped forward to close the gap once more and drew back her fist, punched him squarely beneath his eye, and watched in satisfaction as he staggered backwards. "And how are my actions any business of yours, oh worthy one?" she spat, turning away from him coldly.

All seemed to black out for a second for Hadith but he regained his balance. Had Johari been any of the men in the camp, he would have jumped after him and given the punch back, preferably a couple more. But being raised by one’s mother and other older women that possibility never actually passed his mind. He had been taught that women should never be hit or mistreated physically and he had learned it well.

Hadith just bit his lip and swallowed his tears. He felt so powerless in front of all this. Why didn’t anyone just tell everyone else what to do and get them to safety? He would gladly do his part if someone would just tell him, what that part was. Even though it had been hard to think, he had been enthusiastic about the possibility of there being no one right answer to all things earlier in the day. But now as the insecurity and uncertainty was so real and imminent, he felt just frightened and alone.

[Nogrod]

Gwerr

Gwerr couldn’t raise his eybrow because of the metal plate that had been stiched over his eye. But had he been able, he surely would have done it. So Ishkur, you’re hungry and you get a piece of meat – from me! - and immediately you are ready to make brothers with these travesties of an orc who promise you more! Gwerr couldn’t believe his one eye or his ears. Just like a puppet echoing the words of his master! Just what they want from you!

It was bad enough that Makdush had overheard their discussion, but he had actually come forwards with his brutes to show a muscle. Gwerr was boiling over with anger. He groped for a curse strong enough but failed in it. In his frustration he only managed to whisper to himself: “Oh darn you dratted rise-and-shines!”

And hey! This getaway was my idea! Well, mine and Colagar’s, but whatever... These Uruks are just hang-arounds, vermins on board! And what is Ishkur thinking? He joined the already made plan himself and now he tries to act as a leader with an established peace-treaty with these over-muscled baby-boomers!

It took a few thousand years of experience from Gwerr to stay silent and just to grit his teeth to Makdush and his fellow Uruks as they walked away. As the Uruks had gone, he looked at Ishkur in the eye, his eye flaming. “You just beware. For your own good... and ours. Those are no mister nice-guys and they mean us no good!” by that he went off, searching for a pit or hole to protect himself from the sun that had already reached them over the plains.

But Gwerr couldn’t sleep. He was too agitated for it. He feared the Uruks coming to slit their throats if they would fall asleep. And they had made no arrangements to have guards in the first place! So he remained in the shelter of a depression on the ground he had found, but kept being awake. Tomorrow we will have to talk this over with Colagar and Ishkur – and I won’t be sleeping if there is an Uruk left guarding our sleep! But the longer he laid there awake, the more he started pondering the words of Makdush. He actually seemed to know something about the traffic on these lands and surely they could do with some additional meat. He himself had provided himself for a long journey but clearly all hadn’t. And as the initial plan had bankrupted, the situation was different now. With this small group, all the few females were important too, even if they would have not taken care of their preparations.

So maybe we should follow Makdush’s idea tomorrow? Oh, darkness under! What foolery! Gwerr was getting irate again. But if he knows, he knows. And if he’s hungry, he might lead us to some food. Maybe Ishkur is not so dum at all, maybe he’s just faster than me? The thought was at the same time worrysome and relieving. An orc with nothing to eat for a long journey... Gah! But maybe he still had his brains left? We must discuss this as the evening comes along. Even though he tried to avoid it, he fell asleep in the end.

[piosenniel]

It was quite easy to find his way back to the where his companions had made their camp. Two fires had been lit, more to drive back the darkness that was coming than for warmth he thought. He smiled in the darkness, enjoying the warmth of the night. The heat the breezes bore reminded him of the southern lands where he had spent much of his young life.

Rôg stood in the shadows looking for Aiwendil. He moved into the flickering light of the fire, just at the faded edges of it and motioned to the old man the moment he caught his eye.

He hastened toward Aiwendil, the excitement of his find evident in his bearing. Noting the faces of the some of the others that had turned toward him as he hurried toward Awendil, he paused, composing himself to give his report.

‘Those bats! I believe I’ve found the colony,’ he exclaimed loudly taking the old man aside. He pitched his voice lower, noting most of the others had turned back to their own discussions. ‘Step over here,’ Rôg said, taking Aiwendil’s elbow as he maneuvered them both away from the fire. He took out his knife and squatted down, motioning for his friend to do the same. He smoothed out the dirt in front of him and drew a crude map. Using the point of his blade he pointed to various areas as he spoke to Aiwendil, pausing often to answer questions.

At one point his face grew angry, disgusted, as he spoke. And the two fingers he held up to emphasize a point were accompanied by a shaking of his head and a narrowing of his eyes as if he were considering an abhorrent subject.

Rôg turned a questioning face to Aiwendil when he’d finished speaking. ‘So, shall I?’ he asked as he stood up. He scuffed away the scratchings in the dirt with his bare foot and looked away, to the north, awaiting an answer.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Ishkur woke just before the sun set over the horizon. If they expected to travel very far tonight, the group needed to start running now. With any luck they would find something to eat before the sun rose again. Ishkur could not believe that Makdush had agreed with his plan to head north and look for travelers to steal from. He wondered if the sneaky Uruk had some special reason for going that way or another secret plan, but Ishkur felt much too hungry for his suspicion to stop him from going. Ishkur was upset that Gwerr, whom he had thought of as a friend, would not embrace his plan as much as a true enemy like Makdush had done. Even though Gwerr had given Ishkur a small strip of meat to eat, his stomach still grumbled. But they would not find food at all if they did not leave this desolate, empty plain and head north immediately.

Most of the others were still asleep. Shouting and stomping, Ishkur managed to wake everyone and get them ready to go, even the troublesome women. Some of the orcs flashed him menacing glares as he passed, angry at being roused so early. Ishkur completely ignored them, since he was not much concerned with how the others saw him but very determined to get food soon. He merely grunted back at them, screaming at everyone to get on their feet and start moving. After a few minutes the camp was taken down and the orcs began their march north.

The march north was long and boring. The ground stretched out in a flat plain for miles on end. To make matters worse, Ishkur’s stomach only increased its growling every mile that he covered. Their pace was fast, spurred by the stark necessity of finding food. Once, Ishkur even stopped and shoved some berries in his mouth that grew on a bush they passed. They tasted bitter and did not look appetizing, but he forced himself to swallow them in one great gulp. To have been reduced to eating berries made Ishkur feel ashamed, but no one else seemed to be looking at him as he swallowed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several others do the same.

Suddenly Ishkur and the others heard the braying of donkeys and the neigh of horses just ahead. In one of the rare hills that dotted the plain there was a small wooded copse where it appeared someone had set up camp. Eagerly the orcs raced forward to see if, in fact, their guess was right. To their delight they saw that they had stumbled upon a camp of twenty to thirty men. The metal traps with jagged teeth and heavy rusted iron collars lying around the camp declared that these men were slavers. They captured humans and then sold them off to large plantations for forced labor. Ishkur had once acted as an overseer for slaves on one of the plantation on Nurn. It seemed that although he had escaped from Nurn, his experiences at Nurn continued to follow him. He never really liked the slavers; they often insulted the orc overseers when they came to sell. Very often they cheated the orcs by concealing blemishes on the humans they sold and charging the same amount as for healthy workers. The Uruks, who usually were the ones directly involved in these transactions rarely caught on, but Ishkur could see when they had been duped into purchasing damaged merchandise.

Ishkur forgot all about his past however, when he saw that the slavers had brought some donkeys and horses with them. Ishkur drooled slightly as he gazed longingly at the plump donkeys that were tied up in the corner of the camp closest to the orcs. He could not have imagined a more perfect scene. The slavers, tucked away in their tents and fast asleep, would not even hear if the orcs stole a few of their pack animals and ate their tasty meat. The slavers had stationed a guard outside of the camp, but he stood on the far side and did not see the group approach. The group now stood so close to the unsuspecting beasts that Ishkur almost could almost taste that donkey rump in his mouth.