Legacy of Traitors RPG

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked over at Atharen and began to wonder what he meant. There was a feeling of a promise within the words that he had spoken.

She wished that they could have just a moment where she could just admit to him the thoughts and feelings that were pulsing through her. She wanted to tell him right now that she trusted him on a more deeper level of thinking. She wanted to just burst out what she had been thinking since the beginning of this quest.

She knew deep down in her heart and mind that she shouldn't utter a word. She knew that if she did it would only scare him away. Besides, the urge to keep him around even just as a friend was stronger then her desire to tell him her thoughts.

She knew that she had changed a lot since she had last loved. Arty had been the only one to see her for what she truly was. He saw that she was nothing more then just a young girl that yearned to be free from her father's hatred. He had been the one to listen to her fears, her thoughts, her wishes, her hopes, and her dreams. She had thought that she would never love again.

Then she had met Atharen. She just couldn't place why her heart had felt the way it had when he had grabbed her elbow. She couldn't explain out loud why she thought she was safer near him then any place else in all of middle earth. She just couldn't think of why she was feeling this way. She couldn't even put her finger on it right now.

Maybe it was the way he had looked at her. He had held some sort of respect even for her unadult like behavior in front of him. She wondered if he could see the change of personality, the growing up that had occured in her in the past weeks. She wondered if he noticed her at all.

She brought her thoughts away. She had to stop thinking about that subject. It was one of the things that just consumed her thoughts. She had to force herself not to think of it any more. She was starting to get carried away with questions, doubts, and memories.

She thought about their quest. They had already broken into a building, were attacked in the night, and had lost Del to the darkness of death. She began to wonder what else they would have to endure before the quest became officially over with. Would another of their company succumb to death? If so who would? She hoped that they would get through safely.

Her thoughts wandered again to the man named, Carathir. She had been wary of him. She had been wary of everyone since the beginning of their quest, but she had somehow forgotten that he was there. He was very quiet. Too quiet in her opinion. Even the most untalkative of their ranks had spoken up. He hadn't uttered not even a complete sentence in her presence. He seemed to be planning something and was to busy with that to speak to the others. She made a mental note to watch him very closely in the coming hours and days.

"I know you may not believe me, Atharen but Carathir is plotting something. He doesn't speak like the rest of the company. He is always by himself or standing next to Maen, but we have not heard very many words escape his lips. Lips that are as tight as his have a great secret to hide. You must trust my words, Atharen. I've lived many years with a man that acted such as Carathir," Crystal said softly. As she had said this she had moved closer to him so others, particularly Carathir, would hear what she was saying.

[Eorl of Rohan]

"Give your trust too freely and you are bound to get hurt." Ferethor simply cut in, a slight frown creasing his brow that might have derived from consternation or rememberances. "Everyone may have his own opinion, I am sure. I can only hope your trust is more freely given than you make out, Ferethor." Atharen had answered after an annoyed glance, which made him bite his lip and look away. Trust... Was he able to give that precious and fragile gift of mind away to anyone yet, and was it worth it?


"I know you may not believe me, Atharen but Carathir is plotting something. I've lived many years with a man that acted such as Carathir," Crystal said softly to Atharen which made Ferethor recall his senses and wake from his reverie.


"Caranthir had shown no reason for us to distrust him. We all have our dark secrets that we reveal to none, Crystal, not you nor me the less. Hard would have been his life amid Gondorians who trusted him little, which would presumably have made him more withdrawn and silent." Ferethor surprisingly spoke in defense of Caranthir, though he said it in a low voice. Was it anger that tainted his tone?


"As I recall, not a single person in this expedition except for Maen Il Garoth ever spoke to him at all. Not you, Crystal, Atharen, nor anyone else ever asked him anything of his thoughts or even said a kind word to him. Do you deny it, or even noticed it?" Ferethor continued.


"Should we not consider our chauvinism and prejudice against Easterlings as the cause of this suspicion rather then his fault? Even now you raise your voice and move closer so even Caranthir himself could hear you. Are you then so sure in your proofless intuitution that you would openly claim Caranthir an untrustworthy person? Just because he has a secret that he would not tell, would you denounce him in such contemptible and distrusting tone without any regard for his thoughts on your callous and indifferent comment?"


Ferethor broke into a harsh and derisive laughter. "You tell me that you believe in trust, Crystal! And yet are you bound by the prejudice of our kind that you'd distrust a person who has done nothing whatsoever wrong just because he won't speak unless spoken to and none of you ever deigned to converse with him."


Ferethor was furious, not on any behalf of Caranthir or because he felt any especial regard or trust for the easterling, but the way that Crystal would speak of other people thus. "Ha. Amusing, I should have thought. I cannot believe that you denounce Caranthir just because he is different in his bearings. In my view, your opinions are not any more better then the Gondorian Ladies that are ever at conflict against Maen just because they are too proud to understand other people's minds. Fie on you, Crystal, I should have thought you were better then this in your opinions! You only stayed for less then three days with a person and you already put a judgment upon him?"


Ferethor asked harshly with discernable anger and contempt in his tone, for he had little patience with those who laid judgment on people just because of their difference - what did Carathir ever do wrong except for being born an Easterling and being too quiet and shy? "

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Roryn, who had been standing a way away walked over to the group. Atharen looked at him and Roryn nodded. Ferethor looked slightly affronted at being cut off, but he didn't speak to object.

"All of you should know this," Roryn whispered audibly, but so that none that weren't supposed to hear it could not, "Carathir has been acting very oddly, I've been watching him. He smiled when I brought news of Del's death, and I noticed him grinning when Ferethor was talking about killing Maen. This means that something is going on, he's also been acting oddly, flashing scowls at me and Atharen, and Ferethor. And just so you know Ferethor, if you do try to kill Maen, guard or not I will kill you."

Ferethor's mouth dropped a fraction, not because he was afraid, not because he was threatened, because Roryn hadn't said it as a threat, he'd said it as a fact and that worried Ferethor a little. Atharen looked gravely at Roryn, ad he looked back the same.

Has it come to this, Roryn, that we kill each other over this measly traitor. Maybe that is Carathir's plan, to have us all attack ourselves before we get there...

Yes, it would seem so Atharen. Do not worry, though, Carathir will not last long once I have let his plot develop a little further...

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Roryn is right. And he has been quite as hostile towards myself and Roryn as we have thought towards him. Crystal, you say you have lived many years in the company of 'such a man'; let me tell you all now that I have lived many years more than that, and most fighting. Ferethor, do not assume we know so little in these matters: the fact he is Haradrim has some weight, indeed, but that is not a 'why' to the matter so much as an 'and'. What would you have us do? Ignore the growing threat because he is an Easterling? Have some exaggerated sense of forgiving because he is different? Maybe, but I see you give nothing such to any of the others, and we are hardly a conventional company: a retired ranger, a swordswoman on the run, a lady of Gondor with a thirst for blood. Why, even you yourself, Ferethor - a Gondorian soldier who broke into the archives and threatened another soldier." Atharen's voice was quite low and seemed moderately mild as he spoke, but Ferethor flushed angrily at this.

"I was not the one to threaten him, ranger - it was you who held the left-tenant at sword, so-called 'protecter of Gondor', 'kin to the King'-"

"I am both of those things, and you know it, Ferethor," came the sharp reply, Atharen's voice rising a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roryn glance at him. He continued, his voice lower, "Besides, I doubt the Gondorian authorities would see it that way in your case, Ferethor - which is all the more reason we must stick together and complete this quest. Without completion, we have no explanation, and without that no forgiveness - I address this to you mainly, Ferethor, not as a hostile threat but as a warning to you," he added, his tone more sincere. "He is too young to recognise my face easily in Gondor, but that soldier knew you, I know it. He recognises you. We must complete this quest for that reason if none other."

Turning away, not wanting to continue this in case it developed into a full blown fight, Atharen nodded curtly and turned away to look over the water.

"And what of you, Atharen?"

The voice was quite unfamiliar, not one Atharen had heard at a normal volume more than once or twice, but Atharen recognised the slightly harsh tone, actually quite like his own, as the accent of the Far South. It was Carathir who spoke. He turned slowly.

"What of me, Carathir?" he said civily, his eyes meeting Carathir's equally dark ones, the latter seeming filled with zeal and smoulder and memory for the ranger...

"You did not mention yourself. The other ranger, Crystal, Ferethor, Lady Il Galoth..." he marked them off on his fingers, then clicked them. "But not you. What makes you so difference, Atharen?"

There was something vaguely menacing about Carathir's words although they seemed harmless, civil, calm. Atharen wondered if the others or noticed, or whether he was being foolish. Certainly the man had heard at least the last part of what the ranger had said, the list of their 'unconventionality' - but how much had he really heard.

Atharen smiled very slightly. "I am...complicated, Carathir," he answered the easterling enigmatically. "Complicated by anyone's standards. Little is known about me to anyone here. Trust me or don't - but when you know so little, maybe you will not find a reason to distrust me. Innocent until proven guilty, isn't that what the laws of...many people say?" he smiled very slightly, wondering if the easterling would take up the hidden message.

[Everdawn]

Carathir nodded, but in his mind he made a mental note. This ranger may cause him trouble. His loyalties to the Lady would not let Carathir take her life without a fight. There were the others too he was sure. Ferethor would surely slip and kill the pretty little woman himself if he were in trouble. Roryn would like Atharen come to the Lady’s aid if needed. He wasn’t too sure about how loyal the rest were to the Lady, he suspected their good intention, if needed he could kill the woman Crystal himself, though great with a sword, Carathir was also. He knew that would anger Maén immensely. The other two in question were Idruil and Aelimur. He suspected the companion of Ferethor was too kind hearted and chivalrous towards Maén, as he had observed for him to ‘let loose’ and murder her if he had to. Though it was a possibility that the two were here for the same reason that he was.

“I am a prince where I come from did you know sir?” Carathir said with a light hear now, Atharen smiled at the young man. “A prince of my uncle’s tribe, soon to be king of my tribe one day. “If Elessar will allow me to have what is mine.” He smiled as he walked away towards the other end of the barge.

Standing alone with the wind in her hair now, Maén watched as the shore ebbed closer until the barge struck the jetty and scribbled the last few words into her journal.

A rather unexpected trip I will say. All I have said previously here has gone out the window. I have had an experience I should wish I will avoid in future. I fear I am going mad, Yesterday I saw something I could not a seen, a ghost apparition of Carathir, but only seconds later it disappeared and Carathir appeared around the corner with the others. You see it cannot possibly make any sense. I am not missing any family members besides Lysia. I wish I had been born of her than that woman who calls me (reluctantly) daughter, they all wish I had been a strapping Il Galoth lad like the rest of my brother; And how I have tormented them so that they lament my fantastic mind and my unusual personality. It is quite strange this journey, for all my life in my mind I have remembered always that Guriel was the cause of everything bad which has happened to my family. And now I am certain. Now we must pass though Jacobe’s Run, a small rather minute town in Southern Ithilien. It could be a blessing in disguise in part that we may gain more information on our ‘friend’. There is also a family there who used to be associated with mine, you know who… But once again, any encounter with them will be most unwelcome. A lot of people have been killed before ive been here. Ive ridden and Ive for my part rampaged, and when I get to my destination. I am going to kill Guriel.


There was a quiver of excitement from deep in her body. Each step on South Ithilien soil was a step closer to killing Guriel. She had been alone at her end of the ship for the last part of the barge’s journey but now made her way to where Hittai was staring into the river. “Come now, we are a little closer” she spoke to the animal as she mounted her and rode off the barge. “Ride all, it’s not far to Jacobe’s Run!” she called.

[Kransha]

Idruil had been silent, pensive and contemplative in his unmentioned grumbling. He stared out, darkened eyes fluttering in thought, at the calm waters rippling in the wake of the barge. As a listener himself, he heard as much as he could of the fleeting conversations that went on around him. His ears stiffened as different words blew in on the wind. He sensed the same controversy that he always did, but the sight of water calmed him. It was calmer and more tranquil than the frothy, ocean’s foam around Pelargir, but still refreshing to feel a watery breeze on his face. The man of Minas Tirith allowed more memories to seep in, flooding and coursing through his mind’s corridors like more oceanic winds against his coarse-skinned face.

Soon enough, his eyes turned down as the barge stopped at that river’s opposite shore. Pulling his horse back into stride, letting it bray, frustrated and bored, he goaded the horse off the barge and onto the cold ground. His gaze turned from the dusty road to Carathir, who was not far in front of him. He didn’t like the Easterling, but that went without saying since he didn’t like most Easterlings. His prejudices were few, but he had seen too much during the last war and could never get used to looking at that face or any other’s. It brought back quelled memories which he’d pushed aside, and did not wish to live again.

“I am a prince where I come from did you know sir?” Carathir said with a light air now, Atharen smiled at the young man. “a prince of my uncle’s tribe, soon to be king of my tribe one day. “If Elessar will allow me to have what is mine.” Though the ranger looked more light-hearted as he looked upon Carathir, Idruil’s look soured as a disfiguring frown peeled across his features. Though he did not want to incite argument, he couldn’t help a jab at the Easterling. His words, though mouthed as questions, were more like aggressive attacks at the man, masked only slightly by a querying look. He tried to dilute his statement with more candor than he could show, but probably failed in the eyes and ears of Atharen and Carathir.

“A prince, indeed, how civil is the east of late.” He said, his voice first in whisper, but then loudening, “Carathir, tell me, did you see combat in the war? Though you may have made that known to others, I know not, so tell me? Is it true what I’ve often heard, that all of your kin know blood’s smell as well as they know their own? Forgive if my words are more caustic then their intent is, but it is an earnest question. During the war, the men around me would say they knew an Easterling as well as they knew their kin. I could surmise this was not so, but war can breed these falsified facts when enemies become allies. I know many who would fear to go near one such as you, and many who would cut you down where you stand.” He trailed off, his fiery tone flickering into dying embers of a murmur.

He almost instantly regretted his statement. Though he said it with a warmer air, his words were icy cold and stung. It was not that he regretted his verbal stab at Carathir, but that he regretted showing some weakness, giving in to an ancient bias which he’d thought to be conquered long ago.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal had heard what the ranger had said to Carathir. She wasn't surprised that he would raise such a question. She made a note to watch Carathir, but to not voice her uneasy thoughts out loud anymore.

If he was truly the traitor as she was beginning to suspect then he would try something near the end of the quest when they were just about to find out the true answer that could possibly prove that it was Carathir that had committed murder. He would be wild then and they would be fulfilling the very end of his plan.

She wondered who he would kill first. She assumed it would be Maen because if she got free she could tell her family and authorities who had done it. She possed some threat to Carathir. But then again, so did she. She had skills that he did not know of and some that she assumed he had seen before. He was a man, much stronger then she and could over take her after a small fight. She knew she would be at least the second casuality.

Her eyes wandered over the group. The men could over take Carathir if they stayed together. There was a lot of pride in these men and they would have to push that aside when the time came.

Crystal blinked hard to get rid of her thoughts. She did not want to think about who Carathir would kill or when. She did not want to think about what would happen if he was successful. She didn't want to know what would happen if it wasn't Carathir.

She took the reigns to Atharen's horse and jumped up, moving backward so Atharen could get up. She looked over at the horse she had chosen as her own. It neighed softly.

"Be still little one. You have special cargo on your back. You shall be alright, that I promise to you," Crystal said softly to the horse. The horse quieted and she smiled. She hoped that she lived long enough to take care of the horse, there was just something about him that she liked.

"Let us ride and pray that we aren't the ones the vultures of these lands are searching for," Crystal whispered to herself. It had been something that her mother had said when she felt they were in grave danger. Whenever she had said it in Crystal's presence she would smile and lead them on. Crystal said it now to sooth her thoughts and fears and in dear rememberance of the mother that she loved so much that the pain of her death still cut Crystal deep.