Tears of Mirrormere RPG

[Ilya]

Run away.

Adela stayed in the hall just long enough for one of the Ladies to notice her standing stiff and still, cold as stone with the taste of honey spoiling in her mouth. Then with a mumbled excuse, she'd withdrawn to the kitchens. Ran away, ran away, she kept berating herself over and over again as she'd begun to clean up, although she hadn't said a word since Lord Balin had been brought into the hall. Scrubbing plates with the soap-soused hands, she wiped her forehead and felt the water drip down as the women began to take up the mourning wail. Adela swallowed, and drawn by the smell she looked over towards the food set aside for the Lord's party. It would be getting cold now. She looked away.

The stone under her feet seemed maddeningly still, the kitchens not nearly far away enough from the somber grief of the hall. It was all she could do to keep at her work when Adela wanted to bolt, to where she knew not. But better beards would decide their course, and the only thing to do was to trust in Balin's captains. They owed him that much. Though, as she cleaned and hummed low to herself, something cold and dark weighed down in her gut, whispering more laments were still to come.

[Durelin]

Kórin wanted dearly to give Nali the punch in the face he deserved, though that he was her elder and respected by many kept her from going that far, even with this much ale in her. But in Mahal’s name, he had more to pardon for than his “frankness”! Kór felt his sister tensing next to him and saw how tightly she now gripped her mug of ale, so he quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. He ignored Nali and waited for his sister to make her decision.

After a moment, Kórin rose, and as she did, Kór saw her hand jerk slightly, causing most of the contents of her mug to slosh out in front of her onto Nali’s boots. Kór resisted smiling as he watched Kórin struggle to keep herself from doing so. She set the mug down on the bench behind her as she murmured a half-hearted, “My apologies,” and added with clear amusement, “had a bit too much it seems…”

Kórin did her best to look bored again when she turned back to the old dwarf. “So are you to escort me to this council?”

Kór stood and took the opportunity to chime in, “Perhaps you might allow me to accompany you, as well, Master Nali, simply as…ah…support?” He grinned slightly and shrugged his right shoulder in a sort of gesture toward his sister standing next to him. Kórin was a little wobbly on her feet at this point. Once again he ignored a look from his sister, as she glanced at him with a combination of annoyance and ponderousness. But she did not argue with his suggestion, for which Kór was very glad.

He supposed Kórin had been asked to the council because she was the elder, and he supposed that one of them had been asked because of their father’s history. He had a very noble career and was highly respected, which had probably made Kór and Kórin rather disappointments so far in many people’s eyes. They had nothing to their name except accompanying the Lord Balin here to Khazad-dûm – which Kór expected was why his sister had wanted to be a part of this expedition in the first place. She had always been more concerned with living up to their father’s name, though their parents had never once given any inkling that they were disappointed with their children.

“…our lord will have need of everyone before too long…” Kórin recalled Nali’s previous words. At the moment she could not wrap her mind around who that “lord” would now be. It was enough to realize all over again that “our lord” was no longer Lord Balin. Who could fill his place, especially now?

[Arry]

Vitr had stepped back as Nali spoke with Kénan. He wondered what passed between the two elders, but it was none of his business, or he would have been included. Something to do with Lord Balin perhaps, he thought . . . that, and what would happen now. He would have to trust that wiser heads would figure out what needed to be done, and the how and who of it, too. He’d gladly lend his services where they were best deemed needed when the plan was laid in place, but for now his own plan was to see to the well-being of his wife and children.

As he turned to head toward home, he saw Kénan leave Nali and head across the hall. ‘Ah, good,’ Vitr commented to no one in particular. ‘It looks as if he’s found his grandchildren.’ Despite the pervasive gravity, the seriousness of the present situation, Vitr found a smile begin to play about the corners of his mouth. Grandchildren! What would that be like? he wondered. ‘Old fool!’ he chided himself. ‘Here your children are but young pups . . . and you’re already planning to dandle their children on your knee!’

He left the chamber, making his way across the hall where so shortly before the atmosphere had been one of celebration. Now the shadows that the bright lamps had pushed back so recently seemed to overwhelm the light. Vitr hunched his shoulders against the oppressive feeling and hurried on.

A trio of voices pulled him from his gloomy thoughts. There, by the kegs . . . Nali, again, and Kórin, and Kór. How curious. Busy man, that Nali. Kórin looked a bit worse for the wear, Vitr thought. Angry, too, at whatever Nali had said to her.

‘My Lord is dead,’ Vitr muttered, shaking his head as he passed beyond the little tableau. ‘And everything is at sixes and sevens!’

-o-

His heart began to lighten as he neared home. He frowned, surprised and somewhat disconcerted that the door was barred. ‘Lys! It’s me!’ he called, rapping on the thick wood panels. ‘Unbar the door, won’t you?’

[Groin Redbeard]

“Perhaps you might allow me to accompany you, as well, Master Nali, simply as…ah…support?”

Nali was annoyed with the question, especially since he just got Korin to put down her mug and accept his invitation although not without sloshing her ale all over his boots, which he believed was deliberate. The old dwarf, however annoyed he was, looked at the orange haired "youngster" with interest, he would not be much good at the council but perhaps he would be of some use for calming the mood of the dwarves. The mood of the people was Nali's main concern and after all the reason he summoned Korin.

"Nay, young Korin, but you still may be of some use to us yet. Pluck your harp and sing if you have the spirits to brighten the mood of our people, however fruitless it may seem at the moment. All this dampened merriment will bode ill for us before the night falls if something is not done of it."

Nali found that Kor was looking at him confused, as was Korin. It was a slip of the tongue, old fool, you are going to cause everyone to panic before there is need to!

"Bah!" he exclaimed, "I am growing senile in my old age! Do not fear young Kor, everything will be relayed to thee soon. Now, come Korin, with haste! Both of us have lingered too long, the council must be already in session."

The women quickly obeyed his command and they bounded off together in the direction of the east gate.

[Lilly]

‘Shhh!’ Lys opened the door gently, avoiding, she hoped, the rusty squeak mid-arc. ‘I’m glad you came back so soon,’ she whispered, drawing Vitr in with a hand on his arm. ‘You can help me carry them in to bed.’ She nodded over her shoulder toward the little couch where Tív and Tíva lay sleeping soundly, their slight frames curled comfortably about the cushions and pillows.

‘Chamomile, well laced with milk and honey,’ she offered in explanation, as he followed her across the room. She bent to clear the mugs away from the table in front of the couch. ‘Always helps them settle down.’ She grinned up at Vitr. ‘That and the retelling one of my mother’s very long and winding stories.... about one of her crazy uncles....’ She stifled a laugh. ‘No, not an uncle.... this time it was the one about her impish brother, Bósi. You know, the one with the gimpy leg and the pet hen with only one wing.’

Lys reached down to scoop Tíva up into her arms. ‘Oofta! Too many cookies!’ She cradled her rag-doll daughter securely against her and headed toward the sleeping area. ‘No, not in their beds,’ she said, nudging Vitr away from the twins’ room. ‘Let’s let them sleep in with us. It will be easier than having to get up and see to their bad dreams that are sure to come tonight.’

Once the children were made snug in their parents’ bed, quilts pulled up about their shoulders, hair brushed back from their foreheads, Lys led Vitr to the kitchen. She busied herself making some tea for the both of them as he sat down in his chair.

‘So, what’s going on in the hall?’ she asked, taking the chair to his right. Her question fell into the silence as he considered what to say. The rhythmic sound of spoon against mug as she stirred honey into her tea played a soft counterpoint to the quiet. ‘Is there to be a hunting party to go after the orcs?’

She reached out her hand, resting it on Vitr’s forearm. ‘Will you be among them?’ Lys searched his face for a hint of what he might answer.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

After Náli left to search for Kénan and Kórin, Lóni wandered around the halls aimlessly. He intended to head towards the gate, but his thoughts wandered far and to different times, in history and in his memories and in tales and legends he remembered. He did not even think inentionally about Balin, the thoughts were just swirling through his head. He recalled the moments he and his brother and Trór fought in the Battle of the Five Armies, and Balin emerged among the rest with Thorin Oakenshield out of the gate of Erebor. He recognized him rightaway, he looked exactly the same as in the day Lóni first saw him fighting in Azanulbizar. And here it was again, in Azanulbizar, that he had found his doom...

Suddenly, Lóni stumbled and fell to the ground with clunging of iron. Only now he realised that he is alone in a completely dark corridor. Just where was he? The place did not seem familiar, but it was just a corridor, one of the many in Moria, even now he still could not find a way to identify them all. Something furry and wet touched his knee. Lóni jumped up. Two gleaming eyes blinked at him from close distance and then they disappeared with a sound of soft running pads. Lóni shook his head. Blind in the darkness, he bent forwards and by touch found his mace lying on the ground; he felt he had lost it when he fell. When putting it back, Lóni realised it must be still stained from the skirmish by the Mirrormere. Once again he sighed, knowing that in the darkness he cannot evaluate the condition of his weapons and armor. He was certain they would be in the need of polishing. But duty calls, who knows where he had strayed and the others may be already waiting for him. First the council, then other things.

He turned around and strode back from whence he came.

[Arry]

Only the light from the small fire still burning in the kitchen grate pushed back the shadows gathered in the room. It lit her face, leaving only the deeps of her eyes clouded as she looked at him, and then away. Sparks of it glinted in her hair and for a moment he wished only to entangle his fingers in that familiar mass of coppery curls. And on some other night, some other safe, familiar night he would have done so.

But now foul murder had undone his sense of safety, and what was once familiar, so accustomed, so solid and so ordinary had now slipped sideways. It was not just the body of his slain Lord which had been borne in upon the shoulders of his men, but the possibility, the grim reality, of death for those Vitr held dear.

And so, instead, he clasped her hand between his own and spoke softly with more reassurance than he felt. ‘You know, dear heart, I will be among them.’ He reached a hand toward her, touching her cheek gently for a moment. ‘Duty deems it so; there can be no other way for me. It will be the last call to duty from my Lord Balin and the first for the new Lord who will now lead us.’ Vitr pulled at his beard as he tried to picture who that might be.

‘Oh, I do not envy him!’ he went on, shaking his head at the thought of the heavy mantle the new Lord would don. ‘And just as great is my duty is to you and to Tíva and Tív . . .to keep you all safe from harm.’ For brief moment a glint of a smile eased up the corners of his mouth as he spoke. ‘I promised your father and your brothers I would do so, you remember . . .under threat of some horrid and painful punishment if I did not.’

‘But come, let’s put away these heavy thoughts at least for tonight,’ Vitr said in a lighter tone. ‘When I left the hall, the elders were gathering together for counsel. And our worrying here in the dark will not help them make what plans as they deem are needed. I’ve every confidence that they will figure out what we need to do. And I’m quite confidant too that steps have already been taken to keep the hall safe for now.’

Vitr stood up, gathering both their mugs. ‘You go on to bed; I’ll be there directly.’ He held up the mugs with one hand, their thick clay sides making an emphatic clunk as he did so. ‘I’ll just put these in the sink . . . and bar the door. It won’t take but a moment.’