RP: Crimson Sword

[Carnëiach]

Elanor nearly lept out of her skin as a battlecry rang down the corridor. Her first instinct was to melt into the shadows, until an orc ran slapbang into Elwyn, such a hurry was he in to get away from whatever terror had given the fierce yell, knocking the witch into the wall. He staggerd backwards, but before he could fully recover Elanor hit him over the head, targeting his head with the thick gold on her wrist. He fell soundlessly to the floor.
"Right, lets go, cos I reeeally dont want to run into whatever chased this guy away-"
"Wait." Elwyn bent down, and drew the fine looking sword from the orcs belt. "Wait a minute...this is my bleeding sword! How dare he! May your soul be cursed as an eternal dung pile!" She looked at Elanor after this.
"Hmmm, orgional."
"Thanks. You fine with your toasting forks?"
"Toasting forks? I resent that! But yeah Im fine." She took a deep breath. "Are we going to explore whatevers down there?"
"I wouldnt miss it for the world." The elf grinned evily. "I want to congratulate whoev- well, whatever this thing is for getting my sword back."
"Oh. I feared you might say that." The girl smiled ruefully, then grinned back. "Well, me and my toasting forks are right behind you!"
They started running down the corridor towards the din, and threw open the guard room door, yelling in unison. A warrior, fearsomely clad in a terrifying array of darkness, stood amid the dead bodies of hte guards. He looked up, the helm flashing with malice.
"Well, that really warmed me up, whats next!" The dark warrior removed the skull helm and the pair were faced with...
"Ransom!"
The witch smiled with relief, and Ransom walked towards them.
"Well, he said it; whos next!" Elwyn grinned.

[Ransom]

Ransom’s visor dropped with a clink. Someone or something was coming. His polearm, which he had named Ancalagon’s Claw in a brief moment of literary genius, had taken its portion of souls. The armor had proved extremely useful when an orc tried to tackle him only to be killed by one of the blades that extended from his arms. He crouched, ready to pounce on whatever hapless creature that appeared.

One woman, wielding two weapons resembling toasting forks, shouting a loud battle cry. Her companion, a tall elf with long read hair, spouted a unbroken string of curses. He drew back his weapon, preparing to unleash a powerful blow and end the battle before noticing the identity of the foul-mouthed elf. Elwyn!

“Well, these orcs merely warmed me up! What’s next?”

Ransom stood upright and lifted his helm, grinning somewhat sheepishly. Elwyn recognized him first and lowered her sword. “Ransom!”

Elanor appeared slightly confused for a moment before she remembered him. Before this unexpected meeting, she had only seen him in a dark forest with only a minute amount of illumination. Elwyn seemed to briefly consider hugging him before noticing the many sharp implements that covered the armor. Instead, she walked over and made a few tentative pokes at a flesh hook. “My, my you’ve certainly gotten new toys.”

Ransom let the visor fall with a click. “I’ve just broken out of their sad excuse for a prison, and I assume that you too know more about our present situation. What’s going on?”

[Elenna]

"What do you think is going on? A jailbreak!" Elwyn laughed as she tested the edge on her sword. "We are getting out of this disgusting gaol and finding our companions again."

A harsh cry echoed from down the hall, and the stomping of hobnailed boots could be heard coming towards them. "And did I mention we kill any of Calixto's cronies that get in our way?"

She smiled fiercely, and that same grin was replicated on the faces of her companions as they readied themselves for the evil onslaught.

[Ransom]

Arrows began to skitter into the guardroom, forcing the three former convicts to take cover. Ransom flinched slightly as arrow grazed his shoulder and dove behind an upturned table. His companions declined to share his cover. After all, neither woman desired to be impaled upon his armor.

The frequency of the shots became quicker, and the pounding of boots came closer. The first orc burst through the door and stopped, apparently thinking that the guard post was abandoned. Said orc’s world burst into pain as the table skittered across the floor and knocked the legs from under him. The last thing he saw was Ransom as he pushed a blade through the unlucky orc’s throat.

Two more orcs charged through the entrance, only to be eviscerated in a single swing by Ancalagon’s Claw. Ransom hastily retreated from another volley of shots, most of which bounced of his new armor. Elwyn and Elanor took up positions near the door as they waited for another wave of enemies.

They did not have to wait long. A dozen large orcs burst into the room, pressing the defenders backwards. Ransom parried a sword before he brought his pole arm crashing down on the orc’s head. This was going to be nasty.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor gritted her teeth and readied herself for the battle. Something was being rammed against the door. Only a couple of seconds...
"Diiiiiiiiie!" Ransoms yell was accompanied by a crash as the door gave up and gave way to a dozen orcs. Briefly Elanor smiled at the fersome warrior. Under the mass of metal, she was already taking a liking to him-
Instinctively she ducked and rammed one sai into her assailants stomach. Woah, that orc could take people out with his breath alone...
Another came at her from the side. Weaving the flashing golden weapons from side to side in an intricate pattern, she distracted the orc before ducking down and sweeping her feet under him, knocking his legs out. Elwyn caught him on her sword on the way down.
Blades flashing intuitively, the witch started to work her way towards Ransom, whom the orcs were attacking en masse. How has Calixto got control of orcs? The thought barely had time to develop before a pain in her arm distracted her as an arrow grazed her skin. Cursing she cast off her cloak, sending it into an orcs face. Said orc thrashed wildly before Ransom put it out of its misery. She smiled at him, retreiving her cloak and the pair of the took cover from the onslaught of arrows. Elenna soon threw herself beside them, ignoring the shallow cuts where she had been hurt, seething with rage.
"These are not orcish arrows; they are elven, without a doubt! Something is going on here and someones gonna pay!" The elf muttered thrusting an arrow towards Elanor.
"Are the archers elivsh then?"
"I do not know; at least one of them is more human than the others-why?"
"I need to get one- these gold bands are driving me insane and i can do waay more damage without them!"
"Lady, twould be a pleasure. 'Scuse me while I risk life an limb to bring you this present." With an small bow, Ransom took of towards the archers.
"Ransom! Come back here now, you idiot!" Elwyn yelled.
"Im afraid Im going to have to join him in being an idiot Elwyn- Im getting into this and even such a fiersome warrior as him needs help." Elanor took off after him, using a collection of dropped and discarded daggers as throwing knives as she went after Ransom. Elwyn stared at her for a moment, before shrugging and throwing herself after the pair towards the hapless and decreasing number of archers...

[Ransom]

Ransom pounded down the dark, narrow corridor toward the archers, his now expanded bulk absorbing most of the arrows. He could clearly see the races of the archers now. Slightly more than half were orcs, while the remainders were scruffy-looking humans. Their captain, arrayed in black mail, was an elf. This was certainly unusual.

Instead of retreating and running, like Ransom had expected, the orcs began to drop their bows and pile onto their attackers, as if seeking to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. Ransom backhanded an orc, knocking it backwards, before clubbing another one with the butt of his pole arm. He did not use the weapon to its full extent for fear of injuring his allies. On the other hand, his armor was working perfectly. Any orc who tried to tackle this demonic menace quickly retreated from the seemingly omnipresent spikes.

By now, most of the orcs had been slain. The humans had dropped their bows in exchange for long swords and shields while the elf urged them forwards. Ransom stepped backwards and brought Ancalagon’s Claw up in preparation for this new onslaught.

[Carnëiach]

The eight or nine archers facing the trio were very unusual, especially the captain. Once again the nagging sensation in the back of her mind was questioning this.
How has Calixto naturally got hold of orcs, and managed to put them under the command of an elf?
Elanor didnt have time for the voice though, as the orcs and humans threw down their bows and threw themselves at Ransom as one body. The elf stood back, bow still in hand, and slowly began to creep away. The elf was not wearing any armour except the half head helmet...with the precision of one practised in small weapons she flung a throwing knife, making sure it caught the back of the elfs leg, deep enough to stop the elf in its tracks. Elanor could still not see whether this unusual enemy was male or female because of the helmet, and she ran towards her victim. Elwyn was attacking the orcs and humans who had leapt on Ransom, only one or two of whom had not been dealt with or run away.
Reaching the elf, the witch hit the figure on the side of the helmet, knocking her/him sideways onto the floor. Moving swiftly, despite lacking her enhanced skills and pressed a dagger across its throat. With her free hand she removed the helmet and saw the elf underneath was, to Elanors surprise, a woman, her face twisted in pain and rage. Her dark hair flooded out of the helmet and her face was pale with pain. After a moments shock, Elanor reached down and without taking her eyes from the woman, she pulled the dagger from the womans leg, as softly as she could in the circumstances.
"Get off me human. I can kill you in an instant." The womans voice would have been menacing was she not gasping, and choking against the dagger.
"Not pinned like this you cant. Now, for your life I have a small favour to ask- I mean, that you will grant. And a few questions." Elanor kept up her hard front, although she was quailing from this ruthlessness now the adrenaline was wearing away.
Behind her Ransom approached, on hand on Elwyns arm. They had seen of the rest of their enemies and Elwyn at least was bleeding in a dozen places, but her anger flared once again as she saw one of her own kind was in charge of thec creatures they had killed.
"Why you...How dare you, an elf, command such vile troops? How can you even declare yourself an elf? An orc you are, an orc!" She spat comptemtiously.
"Vile as she may be, she will get these accursed bands off my wrists."
"And then she shall have our questions to answer." Growled Ransom. The elf woman tried to hide her flinch as she caught sight of the tall, fiersome spiked creature that was Ransom as he hauled her to her feet, hands firmly behind her.

[Elenna]

"Now, woman, you will answer my questions." Elwyn growled as she broke free of Ransom's hold. "Why are YOU here? Why are we being held? Why are the orcs following you? And how can we get out of here?"

The dark haired woman narrowed her eyes and did not answer. Then she gasped as Elwyn held a sword to her white neck. "Perhaps you didn't hear me!" she snarled. Then grasping the woman by the collar of her cloak, she slammed her against the wall.

Ransom and Elanor stood back in shock. Why was Elwyn acting this way?

OOC: Oh, you'll find out. Mwah ha ha ha.

[ October 01, 2002: Message edited by: Elenna ]

[Ransom]

Ransom watched with no small amount of amusement as Elwyn faced off against the unknown elf. Of course there were much more efficient and painful methods of extracting information than holding a sword to the neck. Much more painful methods.

Indeed, he had used many. Especially on any orcs that were unlucky enough to stumble upon him when he had spare time. The right tool in the right place could accomplish much. Ransom, much to his friends’ discomfort, seemed to enjoy torturing his enemies.

Ransom shook his head. The last thing he needed was to loose himself in his past. Indeed, long years of experience with his sister informed him that Elwyn was about to blow her top. He slowly walked behind Elwyn and listened....

[ October 01, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Elanor flinched as Elwyn slammed the other elf into the wall. She started yelling at her, sword blade still pressed against her throat. The witch was surprised to say the least but when she looked at Ransom she was actually quite scared; his expression was one of enjoyment an amusement. Elanor wondered about this mysterious man and his fiercesome armour.
"Why are we here? Why are you here? How dare you!" Once again Elwyn slammed the elf back against the wall, lifting her slightly off te ground in her rage, her hands trembling with anger. It was only as a thin line of blood started to appear on the elfs neck that Elanor wa jerked into action out of sheer self preservation.
"Elwyn!" She walked up so she was right behind her friend. "Please. I do not know especially what this...creature has done to you, but for the moment I need her."
"No!" Elwyns voice was steely, such as Elanor had never heard her speak like. "No one needs her- ever! Exept to torment her and send her to the void with Mandos!"
"Just for now. Then you can have her. Please, Elwyn, dont act like this." A pleading note was creeping into Elanors voice and it seemed to bring the elf warrior back to reality. She looked at the witch for a moment before letting go of the elf so that she slumped to the floor. Elanor crouched beside the elf and whispered, "You will remove these bands from my wrists. And do not think I am really doing you any favours- she will have you back by the end."
The strange woman looked up at Elanor, her face still twisted with hate, her hand on her throat. She nodded briefly and got up. Elwyn and Ransom dived for her, Ransoms face eager, but Elanor grabbed her first. She twisted her arm behin her back, just hard enough to hurt and pressed her onwards.

Soon they reached the blacksmiths forge. It was neglected but was near to the armoury and guard room, and was unattended. Ransom got a chisel and a hammer from the workbench, but the chisel was blunt.
"Sorry Elanor, were going to have to use a sword."
Elanor tried to contain her panic. Ransom ordered the elf to stand at the end of the room, where Ransom kept an eye on her.
Placing one wrist on the anvil Elanor took a deep breath. "Go on Elwyn. Please dont miss."

[Elenna]

Elwyn took a deep breath and raised her sword high over her head. Muttering a prayer to Varda, she brought the blade down, severing the gold band around Elanor's wrist, but not touching the skin underneath. Nearly fainting with relief, Elanor placed her other wrist upon the anvil. As Elwyn sent her sword slicing through the other band, the elf that Ransom held in his iron grasp let out a shriek that could have woken the dead.

Ransom quickly covered her mouth, but it was no use. Surely someone had heard her.

Elwyn stood up. Walking quickly over to the dark-haired elf, she smiled sweetly. Ransom and Elanor stared at her - where were the curses? But Elwyn continued to smile.

"Oh, so you've called your little friends, I see. But now that we have Elanor's bonds off, we can deal with them. And when we've gotten out of this hell-pit, I promise I will deal with you."

[Ransom]

Ransom had been slightly confused by the fuss over Elanor’s golden bands. In addition to being cumbersome and heavy, they did greatly increase the chance the Elanor would be spotted. Somehow he had passed it off as one of the quirks of their captors, on the level of leaving an obviously useful suit of armor lying around a prison.

But now, his suspicions were confirmed. Long had the Inquisition sought a substance that would bind a witch’s power. After many failures, they had discovered that gold dampened the power that a witch could expel into their surroundings. This information had been kept secret, to the point that the Inquisition covered golden bonds in a layer of iron. How had their captors obtained this knowledge? And furthermore, could this witch read his mind? How powerful was she? He would have to be careful. It would not do for anyone to discover his past. Not here. Not now.

The cursed elf’s repeated attempts to escape were beginning to annoy him. In addition to summoning their enemies, her repeated attempts to kick him were beginning to grow tiresome. He did not understand the nature of Elwyn’s quarrel with the elf, save that it would be far better for him to stay out of it. But this was one of his sworn enemies, one of the Heretics. Ransom briefly contemplated ending the elf’s misery with one quick snap of her neck. But the look on Elwyn’s face spoke to him in more ways than one. Perhaps she would be so kind as to allow him to administer the blow of absolution.

“Ladies, if our buisness is taken care of, I believe that we are outnumbered. We must make plans for our flight or our defense. But first, let us decide how to take care of this heretic?”

[Carnëiach]

As the sword came searing down the second time Elanors heart jumped again, then just as the relief set in, the barrier holding her powers away broke down. Her head felt like it would split with pain and she grasped her temples. She felt every enhanced feeling and strength flood back and the thoughts of those around her only ffeatured in the background. Everything. Gritting her teeth against the pain Elanor closed her eyes for a few minutes ferverently hoping the pain would subside. After a moment she opened her eyes to see Ransom holding the gold bands, turning them slowly around, a thoughtful look on his face. She couldnt attune to his thoughts this quickly but she felt a sinking feeling.
"So these can harness your magic?" He said slowly.
"Take it away temporarily." She said, guarded.
"But if tuned, they could harness it."
"I..I dont know Ransom. Why does it matter?"
"Oh no reason, i suppose. Just...wondering." He slipped the bands into a space in his armour, much to Elanors worry, before standing.
“Ladies, if our buisness is taken care of, I believe that we are outnumbered. We must make plans for our flight or our defense. But first, let us decide how to take care of this heretic?”
At this the elf in the corner looked even more frantic and opened her mouth to give yell again. Elwyn started towards her but Elanor flexed her fingers.
"Let me." She made an irritated motion, flicking her hand at the elf. The elfs mouth shut immediately. Elanor smiled slightly then turned back to the othet two.
"Nice." Said Elenna.
"Thankyou."
"Anyhow, didnt you think that we might need her? Password and such?"
"We have magic. An an elven warrior. And Ransom and his armour."
"O-kay...but maybe we should keep her until we get to Calixto. Hostage?"
"Ah, I see." Ransom smiled, his face cruel. "So we couod deliver in less than perfect condition."
"I...whatever makes you happy Ransom." Elanor gave up. "Elwyn; can you remember how to get to Calixtos hall?"

[Elenna]

Elwyn stood silent for a moment, deep in thought. "Yes. I believe it was that way." She pointed to the right, down a dark passage.

The captive elf struggled against Ransom, who apparently had no pity for her plight.

Just as well, Elwyn thought to herself. She had no pity for those two little boys, nor for the village that she burned to the ground...

[Ransom]

Ransom didn’t like the situation. This Calixto, besides being an abomination in serious need of absolution, seemed to be quite a shrewd operator. Surely he would have some sort of bodyguard around him. And, no matter the magic that Elanor possessed, Calixto surely would have developed a method to nullify her power. On the other hand, he would surely be expecting his former prisoners to make an attempt to escape. Perhaps purging this menace would be the safest path.

The female elf was beginning to struggle again, and Ransom was rapidly losing his temper. He bent down until his helmet was near her ear before whispering, “I consider myself honorable. Let us make an agreement. Stay still and I shall not hurt your accursed body. Move, and I shall hand you to the redheaded elf.”

Much to his satisfaction, the evil elf tried once again to struggle. Ransom quickly applied pressure to her jugular vein, cutting off blood flow to her brain. She struggled for a moment before falling unconscious.

“Now that she is taken care of, let us be on our way.”

[Cimmerian]

A tall thin elf, fair and cold, scanned the storm that raged on in the prison courtyard with dark, soulless eyes. A dry smile curled on his thin, lifeless lips, he turned to face his companions who sat around him in the dimly lit room, sipping wine from earthen goblets., their eyes fixated on the window of visions that Aravalenon’s dark sorcery provided.

Aravalenon cast his baleful gaze upon them, his lean cheeked face darkened and his black eyes became obsidian. With a smile on his thin lips, that did not extend to his eyes, he said, "The fools can go on fighting my illusionary warriors until the ends of time. I have what I need."

"Lord Aravalenon," said Nashburz, large and square of face and body, the muscular uruk leader of the black army assembled, continued, "I do not like this… this sorcery. I'd rather face my foes in armed combat."

”All in time, my trusted ally.” Replied Aravalenon, his dark eyes gleaming. “Now it is time that I take on the guise of Calixto once more. And lead the lost souls to their redemption.”


Mumbling a few dark spells, Aravalenon’s appearance changed to that of which he had used to mislead the group of warriors to aid him in his quest of the fabled Crimson Sword. One, which was already in his possession and gave him such immense power.

Once in the guise of a brutally battered Calixto, the evil elven wizard cast a spell to teleport himself in the whereabouts of the lost warriors led by Bulvard. They would make a fine force in his army and his quest to rule all the lands in Sauron’s name.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard was amazed at the way Tumnaooriel took charge. She seemed so much different now. No more did she cower in fear and reach out for protection. Instead, she moved with rare self-assurance, something, which he had not seen in her since the time they had first met. Gwyn appeared to be recovering rapidly.

Harolas and Tumnaooriel helped the lady of Rohan to her feet and walk a few steps. There was no sign of their horses; they had to follow the rest of the trail on foot. As the party trudged onward, a sudden rustling in the bushes ahead startled them. Bulvard drew his sword in a flash, followed by Culloth. Harolas had already drawn his bow and nocked an arrow. Tumnaooriel held onto Gwyn by herself as the Lady of Rohan weakly tried to reach for hr sword.

Then suddenly an elf, his fine robes and armour a tattered mess, stumbled out of the undergrowth and collapsed in front of the wary travelers.

“Calixto!” Harolas, Tumnaooriel and Bulvard shouted in unision.

“Help… me…,” the elf lord whispered hoarsely.

[Nevtalathiel]

Again Tumnaooriel felt the urge to protect and heal as she saw Calixto suddenly fall in front of the group and again, she took charge, although this time without complaint from the others, most notably Culloth. This time it took only seconds for water and makeshift bandages to be produced and Tumnaooriel carefully took a strip of damp cloth with which to clean Calixto's numerous wounds. The others waited intently to discover the fate of their former leader, save only Culloth, who paced the area grumbling to herself.

Looking down at the extent of the wounds, Tumnaooriel's hand trembled, never before had she seen such dreadful wounds on one who had survived. Involutarily, a sob escaped her lips and her hand jolted. The fingers which had been holding the now blood soaked cloth brushed against Claixto's skin and a low moan passed his lips, but Tumnaooriel did not hear it. As soon as her skin touched Calixto's flesh, a memory of a feeling flashed through her. It was a memory which had been burned into the deepest parts of her soul.

The child lay there, so pale against the crimson sheets. The wounds were dressed, but would not stop bleeding and every minute the stain spread. Perspiration mixed with blood to soak the pillow, despite Tumnaooriel's constant attention. It was not her fault. There was nothing she could do, but they wouldn't listen. It wasn't the wounds which were killing the child, it was something else, something which stopped her healing, somethinng evil which had got hold of her and would not let go, something which scared Tumnaooriel more than she had ever known.

"There's nothing I can do for him." Tumnaooriel gasped, feeling tears rise before her eyes. "I've felt this before and there's nothing I can do." She turned, sobbing, from Calixto's fallen body and became once more the timid fearful creature she had been since the child had died.

[Ransom]

Ransom motioned for Elwyn and Elanor to stop. Something was not right. They had been walking for nearly an hour with no end in sight. The orcs they had met seemed to be far more interested in killing their target than their own safety. This ran counter to all of his experience. Orcs were far more interested in saving their own skin than continuing a failed assault. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

That cursed elf began to struggle again. Ransom groaned inwardly before stopping. “Ladies, mayhap we could rest for a few minutes? This burden appears to be showing signs of life, and my arms are rather tired of dragging her. Perhaps we should think of a better plan for transporting this heretic.”

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard found himself drawn towards Tumnaooriel once more, overwhelmed with the desire to protect her. The large warrior looked away from the battered form of Calixto and put his arm around the sobbing woman. She shuddered and held on to him like a helpless child, even as she did Bulvard caught a fleeting glimpse of a smile curl Calixto’s pale lips. Only a fleeting glimpse. He shook his head.

Calixto didn’t seem mortally wounded, just tired and weary. Why did Tumnaooriel say she couldn’t save him. What did she feel when she touched him. Bulvard’s thoughts raced in spells of pity and suspicion that fought to gain a foothold in his mind. He stood silently with Tumnaooriel sobbing against him as Culloth and Harolas inspected the fallen Calixto.

“It is necessary to save him,” Harolas mumbled.

“I agree with the elf,” spat Culloth, “You. Get away from Bulvard and do your best to revive him, it’s the least you could do to be of some use in this journey.”

Bulvard stared grimly ahead, his protective hold on Tumnaooriel ever tighter.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” said Gwyn, “She has done her best, which is more than I can say for you.”

“And what does that suppose to mean?” Culloth barked, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“You have the sense to ascertain what I mean, or do you not?” Gwyn responded in kind.

“Lady of Rohan, you will keep a civil tongue…” Culloth growled.

“Enough!” Bulvard’s voice boomed, “Calixto lies there, possibly dying and you can do nothing save find each other’s faults.”

“Nay, not dying… not just yet,” gasped Calixto, his eyelids fluttering.

Harolas and Culloth rushed over to help the elf lord to his feet. Tumnaooriel turned around in disbelief as the elf lord struggled to speak.

“Listen to me… there is great evil, and it has trapped our fair comrades over yonder.”
Calixto pointed south. “They also have the Crimson sword.”

“Then we must go there.” Bulvard said grimly.

“Yes, make haste.” Calixto croaked.

“But, Bulvard… Calixto is not…” Tumnaooriel whispered, her eyes wide with fear. But Bulvard’s grey eyes were cold and hard.

[Nevtalathiel]

"Please Bulvard," Tumnaooriel mumbled, trying to dry her eyes on the sleeve of her dress, "it is not safe, there is nothing any of us can do, nothing." Again the image of the child flashed before her eyes. So young, so pale, he had mumbled in his sleep, if sleep it could be called.

"There is nothing I can do for Calixto, there is no cure. We should leave this place as soon as possible and get as far away a we can. Please, Bulvard, I beg you, do not take us nearer to this evil."

[Elenna]

Elanor, Ransom, and Elwyn took turns keeping watch and holding the prisoner, while the other two slept. Elwyn had tied the witch's wrists and ankles together with strips cut from her green tunic, and gagged her with another, but the woman still struggled wildly.

As Ransom and Elanor slept, Elwyn began to whisper to the witch. "Well, Mithwyn, it's been some time since we have met. And I have not missed you. You remember what I swore I would do to you that day, the day you burned the village? That oath has never been broken..."

Mithwyn writhed in her bondage, remembering well. Her limbs shook with fear at the memory.

[Ransom]

Ransom slept fitfully, his mind drifting in and out of consciousness. Memories long gone played before his eyes, interspaced with the holy litanies of the Inquisition

Pain through Duty.
Duty through Pain.

The woman struggled against the golden bonds, glaring hatefully at her captor. She would have spit, if not for the gag covering her mouth. Ransom looked at her, a mass of emotions twisting inside him. This thing had killed half a dozen people. Including his father. He walked in a slow circle around her before stopping by her right hand. In one quick motion, the joints in her little finger was pulled out of alignment. He watched her eyes go wide with pain before he began the Litany of Absolution. “Your body is weak. Your limbs are heavy. Your soul will be saved, even if it costs you your life.”

Strike fast. Strike hard. Strike suddenly.
But remember always that your failure will lead to the deaths of other.
Those which the Valar have entrusted to you.

He reread the words on the scroll. The a band of orcs lead by a heretic had sacked the temple-town of Saharion, slaughtering and enslaving the townspeople. Of the Order of Nienna, there was no word. He felt a hot tear run down his cheek. His sister had been there.

May Mandos watch over you in the hour of your passing.
May the Feanturi take your soul to the One.
May Nienna comfort you in your passing.

She looked as peaceful in death as in life. Her mortal body had been scarred and crushed, but her face was still peaceful. Ransom laid her upon the pyre before removing his glove. High Inquisitor Cross lifted the hand and made three small incisions in his arm, one for each Valar involved in the Passing. The blood fell freely upon her body, as Cross lay his torch on the fragrant oils that soaked the wood.

Your duty as an Inquisitor and as a person is to the One himself.
Everything else is dust and ashes.

He awoke with a start and grabbed for his sword before stopping. No one had attacked them. Almost everything was quite. He could hear Elwyn speaking softly to the captive.

"Well, Mithwyn, it's been some time since we have met. And I have not missed you. You remember what I swore I would do to you that day, the day you burned the village? That oath has never been broken..."

So the abomination had a name. Mithwyn. He was sure that would come in useful at some point in time. But Elwyn would wake him up when it was his turn to keep watch, and so he drifted back to sleep.

[ October 05, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Elanors eyes flicked open in the darkness as Ransom moved in his sleep beside her, his sword hilt digging into her back. Elenna was whispering nearby, speaking Elanor presumed to the other elf. She couldnt make out the words but decided to intefere before Elenna destroyed the woman and rendered her useless.
"Elwyn..." She murmered, so as not to disturb Ransom. She sat up and saw, not to her great surprise, that Elwyns dagger was being moved slowly in front of the elfs eye, its gleam catching what little light there was. Elwyn was obviously about to strike but the witch moved towards her. The elven warrior turned towards her, a wicked glint in her eyes.
"Dont restrain me Elanor. She deserves what I promised her, and she knows it."
"I will not restrain you. I simply seek knowledge from her."
"Do not ungag her, she will cry for help, cowardly and unworthy-"
"I seek it from her mind." Elwyn seemed to think about this then smiled and turned to the other elf.
"See Mithwyn, this human is more than she seems. She will render your mind in two before I do the same to your body!" She hissed but Elanor had already put her forehead to the elfs. Taking a deep breath she let herself into the others mind...

The little boys cried for mercy but she still pressed onwards, questioning them about the defences of the village. The pair cried with pain; they were young, little more than infants and the dagger cuts marked their faces and bodies.
"The elves; the elves of mirkwood. Do any of them live there. Answer me!" She snapped, bringing her face withing centimetres of the younger boys face. He whimpered in terror, but nodded slowly, unable to speak, blood mingling with tears down his cheeks. In a swift movement she cut his throat. The other gasped and she turned to him.
"Do not worry little one." She crooned. "I shall not dispose of you so quickly. No, your death shall be far more dargged out." As If to emphasize this, Mithwyn dragged her long nails across one of his cheeks, drawing blood. "How would you like to see a really big bonfire up close. Really close!

Elanor pulled her mind out, reeling backwards. She felt every inch of pain on the boys body, his terror and hopelessness. Worse, intermingled with it she felt the cold cruel satisfaction of Mithwyn. This was as strong as Bulvards memories, whcih had sent her into unconciousness, so she pulled out quickly, gasping. Elwyns face swam into view.
"Did you see it? What she did to the boys? And the village?" The elf asked darkly.
Elanor nodded slowly. "I saw what she did to the boys. Believe me, i would follow up what you wish to do to her. But indeed later, I believe she will be repaid for her deeds in far greater pain. Do not destroy her. Yet." The witch muttered a word and with a spin of her fingers sent the elf into uneasy, unnatural sleep.
taking out her scrying crystal she spun it between her fingers, the many sides playing with what little light was afforded to the dark corridor.
“Help… me…,"
A familiar figure lay on the grass in front of Culloth, Gwyn, Tumnaooriel and Bulvard. Relief flooded through the witches mind, but she didnt let it cloud the crystal. There was something about that bloodstained figure, lying between the swirling warning patterns of deceit in the crystal. Forcing the vision closer she saw it. Calixto.
In the crystal she saw Tumnaooriel flinch away from him as if burnt and she looked up, disturbed, so that she seemed to make eye contact with Elanor. She knew something wasnt right. The others didnt.
Elanor stod quickly.
"We must press on. Now. Quickly. Something here is very very wrong..."

[Ransom]

Ransom shifted his armored body slightly, trying to capture a final moment of rest. Bright lights played across his eyelids, finally dispelling any last vestige of sleep. He stood and stretched, observing with some interest Elanor placing her scrying crystals into a small pocketbag while she talked to Elwyn. Scrying crystals were by no means rare, but the actual skill of using one was rare.

He knelt back down and bowed his head, quietly speaking the Litany of Preparation.

May the Valar turn their faces to their servants.
May they head our prayers.
May the One bless us through the day.
May Mandos protect our soul.
May Lorien guard our dreams.
May Nienna comfort us.
May Vaire guide our fate.
May the Valar guard us through the day.

Rising to his feet, he began to sheath his sword before he remembered his dreams. They had been clearer than ever before. Ransom glanced at the witch through his helm. One friendly witch, after spending one night below his quarters, had informed him that he projected his dreams like a shouting madman. Had her magic affected his memories? Most of all, had she discovered or overheard anything?

[ October 06, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Ransom muttered something, a poem of some kind, beautiful and solemn. The witch turned and listened quietly as she put away the crystal she heard the last few lines.
May Nienna comfort us.
May Vaire guide our fate.
May the Valar guard us through the day.
Elanor remembered when he had been speaking to himself when he slept, the words he had said, the way he had obviously been intoning something to someone about to die. The words had sent shivers up her back.
"That was beautiful Ransom. As were the words of your dream." She murmered. He looked at her oddly, a strange look on his face.
"Well, Im surprised but glad you think so Lady." His voice said that he was far more surprised than he said.
Elwyn dragged the other elf to her feet, not caring how rough she was it seemed. Why does she bear such a specially personal hate against this elf, one of her own kind? Something deeper than the boys...
"Do you insist that we bring her along?" Ransom asked irritably, interupting Elanors pensive thoughts. "I am growing sick of dragging her along. Her legs work. For now." He added quietly.
With a flick of her hand a few sparks of magefire shot out of the witches fingertips, igniting the fabric tying and gagging Mithwyn. Flexing her fingers she muttered the ancient words of control while staring the renegade elf in the eye. With a swift encircling motion with her palms, the spell was complete. AS if pulled up by strings like a puppet, the elf dangled as if she had no life of her own. Elanor sighed regretfully- she hated using controlling spells; they seemed immoral. She turned to the other two.
"She will follow us. But Calxtos plans have deepened further..." She explained her vision to the pair and they pressed on.

[Ransom]

Ransom ducked and gripped his poleax in both hands as magefire shot from Elanor’s hand. He had been on the receiving end of magefire far too many times for comfort, and he did not intend to be caught unprepared. But Elanor’s aim was true, and Mithwyn’s cloth gag disappeared into a cloud of multicolor smoke. He noticed that she had begun to chant, and recognized the mantra of control. Mental avenues to his head slammed shut in an instance, a skill honed to perfection by the Inquisition’s resident witch. He could still remember the headaches he defenses failed to her subtle and not-so-subtle spells.

Truly, Elanor’s casting skills were excellent. Mithwyn’s mind seemed to offer no resistance, and what could be best described as a bitter mental aftertaste splashed against his will.

================================================== =======

Perhaps this Calixto was the elvish heretic I heard about. Ransom mused, But at this rate we’ll be long dead before we reach him

They had walked for many hours, fighting off an almost endless stream of seemingly mindless orcs. Ransom was beginning to grow hungry and thirsty. Truly a flaw of the body, but the body was the divine gift of the One. Perhaps now was the time to think of another plan.

“Ladies, I do believe something here is not right. Our enemies are numberless and almost mindless, and the halls are just as numberless. We seem to be going in circles. Perhaps we should reconsider our current course, and seek another way to our goal?"

[ October 08, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Cimmerian]

“Foolish coward,” Culloth shouted, roughly shoving at Tumnaooriel, “It is to get rid of this evil must be go further into it.”

“She is right, Tumnaooriel,” agreed Harolas, tough in a much kinder manner, “Come quickly, Bulvard. Elwyn and the others must be rescued.”

“Aye,” said the tall, white-haired warrior, “But we must be wary, I fear Tumnaooriel may be right about this.”

“About what?” sneered Calixto, “Who is she to have doubts on our mission? I did not approve of her services to our cause.”

“What ever her fears be, I will heed them,“ replied Bulvard coldly, “Tumnaooriel is with me, and so she shall remain.”

Calixto turned away, now seemingly recovered from his injuries. “Come hither. Follow me.”

The party of six swiftly made their way in the direction Tumnaooriel had warned against.

[Elenna]

Elwyn walked next to Mithwyn, prodding her forward when she paused. It made her nervous, not knowing where she was going or what she would meet.

As she walked, she found herself talking to Mithwyn almost as she used to. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? I joined the guard of Rafflensher, did you know? No, I suppose you didn't."

Mithwyn turned to the red haired elf next to her, unspeaking. In her eyes was a depth of sadness and anger that was so intense, it made the room seem colder. To cover up her awkwardness and remorse, she strode forward to where Ransom stood. "Where are we going?" she asked, knowing full well that he didn't know.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor was frustrated and footsore. All the corridors looked the same and for all she knew, this one was the same one they passed through 2 hours ago! FRom Ransoms face she saw he felt the same. He grinned ruefully at her though; he had taken his helmet off a while back when he realised the orcs they fought had no tactics, mindless in fact they seemed and his face underneath was tanned and quite young, but not youthful. A hardness was in his eyes and it brought Elanors mind back to the first thought she had picked up from him after his questions; the Inquistition.
Shivers ran up her spine; she had heard tales of what the Inquistition did to witches. Yet the handsome young warrior seemes to respect her powers, although he had seemed a little uncomfortable when she used magefire. She was glad he was friendly, as a witch at the hands of an inquistitor was often not treated well...
Elwyn walked up to her, business like, although she was hiding other feelings. Her behaviour towards Mithwyn had changed in strange ways from such violent hostility to almost kindness. What was the link there?
"Elanor, could you try scrying again, to try and get a clue of how to find Calixto?"
The witch sighed. "I can try." Pulling out the crystal she started spinning it, although she didnt immediatly look for what the elf had requested. It couldnt hurt to see their friends again, to see Bulards face...she shook herself. That was not why she was looking. She just wanted to see if he- no, if they were OK.

"Tumnaooriel is with me."

Immediatly Elanor jerked back at the words, breaking the vision. Bulvard had said that. About Tumna. No, why should it matter? She didnt care what he said about anyone, as long as they were ok.
Oh really? You feel nothing for him? That nasty nagging voice again. Taking a deep breath Elanor pushed it out of her mind. Just concentrate on where we are...and where Calixto is, whatever he is...

[Ransom]

“Where are we going?”

Ransom had been watching the intricate crystal Elanor was staring into, amused and a bit bemused. He personally only knew one other person who could scry with any accuracy, and she had died two winters ago of old age.

Elwyn’s approach had been unnoticed, though her question was not. He smiled warmly and shook his head to clear his mind before turning to face her.

“Where are we going? Our bodies will return to the earth from whence it came, and our souls shall journey to the Blessed Lands. But I suppose that’s not the answer you’re looking for. In truth, I have not a clue.”

[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Elenna]

Despite herself, Elwyn smiled. "I had hoped for a more concrete answer, friend Ransom, but that'll do for now."

Ransom turned to her. "What has passed between you and this Mithwyn? What has she done to you that makes you hate her so?"

Elwyn's smile vanished. "She has done nothing to me. It is what she has done to others that makes me hate her. It was not always so..."

[Carnëiach]

Elanor stared into the crystal, her eyes taking on a silver glaze as she tried to work her way through the- what? castle, fortress, palace? She didnt even know what their prison was, apart from the fact that it had so much magic woven around it that her Othersight was having trouble even keeping control of herself, let alone steer her mind.
She wove through corridor after gloomy corridor, finding the occasional cell like room- apparently whoever made this place didnt believe in comfort for their soldiers, yet she could see no orcs or other enemies at all. She found herself drawn onwards however, into a very different part of the fortress however, emerging into a roomy courtyard. She continued cautiously until she found herself in another room, where orcs and men were gathered in meeting around another figure. He was lightly built, but no one would have said he was scrawny, for her emanated such power and arrogance and danger from his wiry elven form that back at her body, Elanors breath was taken away. She felt the thoughts and emotions of those in the room, yet from him...nothing. It terrified her as the void had. He looked up and his eyes were night itself- an iris and white didnt even come into the equasion, his eyes were black all over. He looked sharply around and Elanor quickly shot up her defences, sheltering herself from other minds. Yet he still looked at the air where her conciousness hung, and although the witch knew she couldnt be seen or felt, she held her breath. Eventually he looked down to his commanders again and Elanor felt she had been released.
He knows...he knows you are out...
The thought was pushed down as Elanor returned to her body and closed her hand around the crystal. Ransom and Elwyn looked up and the silver glaze faded from the witches eyes. Blinking a few times she turned to them and stood, determined.
"I know where we are going. You should too- can you not feel the pulse of his power?"
The other two looked baffled and exasperated she decided to let them feel it too. She walked towards Ransom first and raised her hands to touch his head, but he flinched away. She looked at him strangely- what did he think she would do?! He then looked at bit sheepish and muttered something about having to much experience. He leant down slightly and she pressed her hands to his head, concentrating on the power she had felt from the sorcerer. After a few seconds he gasped and his eyes flew wide open. She let go and did the same to Elwyn, who jerked back, her eyes wide.
"What is that?" Ransom whispered, his hand instinctively flying towards the hilt of his sword.
"What you at the Inquisition may call a heretics power." the witch smiled. He looked at her quizically.
"How did you...?" He didnt finish the sentence but shrugged. His face was still troubled, as was Elwyns- they had felt the pulsing power of evil magic flowing from the sorcerer. Nodding, satisfied they felt it and would know where she was going was right Elanor set off on the shortest route she could towards the courtyard and the room beside it...where the elf waited...

[Ransom]

Ransom clicked his helm back onto the rest of his armor. No one else needed to see his emotions.

He had felt that power before, felt it as it coursed through his veins, whispering dark threats and promises to his mind. But he had passed the test, though his mind and body still bore the marks.

“Fools! Do you not see the power that I wield? You shall join me in life or serve me in death!”

The witch advanced at father and son, striking down the bodyguards that dared to challenge her. Ransom watched his father raised his mace and charged, intending to strike the heretic with his massive weapon. The fog that surrounded the grove rushed inwards, crushing Ransom’s breath as it whispered in his mind. His eyes grew wide as he watched his father falter, dropping the mace and falling to the ground. In a last, desperate attempt to save his father, Ransom hurled the sword in his hand with all his might before the world faded into blackness.

Wounded by his sword, the witch was forced to flee by the guards that had survived. Ransom’s father had not survived, and his body was interred in the Chapel of Nienna in testament to his dedication and work.

The elder Deviolana’s savior was captured less than a year later. Ransom personally granted her absolution after a two-week period of cleansing under his supervision.

He continued to lag behind the group, lost in his memories of the past.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Ransom seemed distracted and caught in memories at the feel of the power pulse, but when he saw Elanor looking at him, he fastened his helmet back on, covering his face. Elanor didnt probe, forcing her mind not to pick up his thoughts. Everyone deserved their privacy. Anyway, the witches mind was working overtime anyway.
"How the heck do I beat a sorcerer of that strength?" She muttered to herself, as she hurried along the corridor in front of the other three. She thought of her skills in her head; mainly psychic skills, mind skils, illusions, sixth sense...
Yes but theyre just youre magic skills arent they? Its not your magic that he wants.
Elanor shuddered as she remembered how Calixto had looked at her in that room when theyd been brought out of their cells...

His fingers grasped her chin and he forced her head upwards. She went from one extreme to the other and stared deep into his eyes, the vivid green depths of hers meeting the dark blue of his. For a moment he stayed like this before leaning within an inch of her face and whispering to her.
"Your power is strong, I know this. But you will join with me and give me it, and belive me it shall be far better if you do this willingly!" He smiled, stroking the side of her face with his free hand briefly.
"You shall be my source of power."

Elanor closed her eyes and shook her head, remembering the touch of his smooth cold fingers on her face.
Like I said, its not your magic he wants...
Its you.
Pressing onwards, ignoring the thoughts in her head, Elanor moodily kicked open a door to her side, and ducked behing the frame with a gasp. Beyond the door was another room, beyond that the courtyard, beyond that...the sorcerer.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Something made Gwyn uneasy, and she didn't believe it was the danger they were in. They were always in danger, always had been. But this was different. Tumnaooriel's helplessness and fear at Calixto's illness - but now he was fine; now he was leading them again; almost - almost as if he had never left them. But yet he was different at the same time; as if he was someone else entirely.

Gwyn approached Bulvard to tell him of her apprehension. But something in his eyes was closed to her; and this time she could not blame it on Culloth. A flash of shame at the thought of Culloth; to be bickering senselessly with her when others were in need of her help.

So she marched on, nursing her wariness within her. Soon there would need to be some explanations from Calixto.
OoC: This okay?

[Elenna]

Elwyn was confused - she felt the dark power, all right. It made her feel like every second, an enemy was about to jump at her. But as an elf and a healer, there was a power in her that fought back against the darkness.

Ransom and Elanor noticed out of the corners of their eyes that their friend was glowing slightly. All around her a red-gold corona shone. But when they looked straight at her, it was gone. They continued walking forward. Elwyn, still glowing, stumbled on a rough patch of floor. Ransom reached out to steady her. As his hand touched her shoulder, he felt a warmth running up his arm, driving out the chill of the darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor looked in wonder at Elwyn. A glow radiated of her, strengthening her. The elf must have power in her blood to fight against this dark power.
Taking a deep breath, the witch draggedher eyes away from Elwyn and looked around the corner again. In the room she couldnt see much but shadows, but saw that they were moving away from the trio. Closing her eyes, Elanor let the dark pulse move inside her, and let herself move into it. She felt the intentions of the sorcerer...and she felt the strength of his power.
It called to her. It knew she held power of her own. Yet wouldnt it be so much better to join her power with it, to use the dark arts that had always been inside her...
She opened her eyes with a shudder as soon as she had found where they were moving to. But she knew with a sinking feeling that no matter how quietly they followed, the sorcerer knew they were coming. So why hadnt he raised the alarm?
She knew the answer; he was playing with them.
Muttering a curse under her breath the witch turned to her friends. "He is going to the great hall. It is but two corridors from here- if we move quickly we can reach it before them."
Ransom shifted his grip on his pikestaff in anticipation. "An ambush? Perfect."
Elanor grinned at him. "Absolutely. In their own habitat too. Come on, lets go."
She turned to Elwyn, whose aura dispelled the darkness around her. It comforted her somehow.
"I didnt know you could play at my game Elwyn."
The elf smiled serenly at her. "I play as far as the repelling of darkness my friend. Strange considering how Mithwyn-" She seemed to catch herself and stopped. Elanor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn was in what,she thought, the worst place in her life. Everything had gone wrong. She lost her powers, and now she was a puppet!
As the four stopped before rounding a corner, Mithwyn spoke, "You do know that if you go in there, He WILL kill you."
"Silence, sister!" Elwyn spat out the last word, with such hatred that even Mithwyn had to cringe.
"Fine, I will keep my mouth shut. But don't come crawling back to me Elwyn when are at his mercy, when he steals your powers too." Mithwyn eyes blazed with anger, and they continued on with the elf witch floating in mid-air.
"Mithwyn, I am truly sorry that this is way you turned out. After all, I trusted you. You're my sister, and this what you do?!" Elwyn said in a harsh whisper, and for a minute she thought she saw saddness in her Mithwyn's eyes but it was gone before she knew for sure.

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon in his guise of Calixto led the group of warriors closer and closer to their doom. The five of them unknowingly followed the elf lord in single file, with Culloth walking in stride behind Calixto and Gwyn making up the rear. Bulvard held Tumnaooriel close to him as he walked. Suddenly the tall warrior faltered. His grey eyes widened in fear, flashes of Aronja piercing eyes played before his mind's eye and then a face, a pretty face, serene and sombre. Then it cried out as if for help...

"Elanor!" the warrior whispered hoarsely.

Calixto stopped dead in his tracks. Whirling around swiftly, he barked, "What? The witch?" Even as he spoke, Aravelenon sensed what the witch was trying to do, he also sensed that the captive trio were biting far more into the pie he had laid out for them back in his lair. That had to be stopped.

"Come, hurry... we must save them all." Calixto doubled his pace, with Culloth and Harolas on his heels. Bulvard, Tumnaooriel and Gwyn followed steadily.