Search for Rhûn RPG

[Saraphim]

"Elders, we have found something beyond anything that has been seen in our lands before"

Nephil stood before the Council of Elders. Maulka stood to his side, arms crossed.

Nephil had rarely spoken to the Elders, and it was a rather new experience to speak in a room that was filled, not only with the leaders of his community, but with many watchers who stood behind him as well. Nephil took a deep breath and continued:

"There is at this moment a group of travelers in the forest, whose very visage is unkown to us. All but two are small and rather stubby, and the others, while in shape like us, are different in many ways. One seems... "

But Nephil could find no words to describe the human-like creature that was not human, and, after a hesitation, went on:

"The entire group seems to have been looking for something, but what it is is impossible to tell. They found...they found the Lake, and disgraced it with thier foul, outsider flesh. One was destroyed by the holy fish, and it was then the Bestialan attacked. He fought well, but the sheer numbers of the enemy were overpowering. Maulka and I had no wish to ourselves join him in death, so we watched from the shadows as he was killed. After the battle, we came directly here, to seek your..."

A rustling and voices from the back of the room interrupted Nephil, who turned, along with everyone else to see a gaurd rush panting in.

"We have intruders, in the caves!" the gaurd said, "Strange folk, outsiders!"

"It is them," said Nephil, turning back to the Council, "With your permission..."

The Head of the Council spoke, his old voice creaking, but full of strength, "Go, you two, and take many hardy warriors along. Prove to them what it means to trespass in the land of Rhun!"

Nephil nodded and ran from the room, followed by Maulka and the gaurd, and many others who were armed and ready to fight.

[Will Witfoot]

Gortek rubbed the scar the strange jungle man had inflicted upon his brow, just above his right eye. The rain was making the wound itch, but it was better than loosing sight from the other eye as well. That would be inconvenient to say the least.

The others trudged on beside him, grey panthoms behind the fleeting curtain of rain, silent as the dead. All their hopes about the fabulous riches of Rhûn had been dashed, and they would indeed be lucky if they managed to get out at all. The whole place had turned out to be one big death-trap.

The rain lashed at them like a thousand tiny deamon whips, and the wind tore at the members of the group like some savage beast clawing at it's prey.

"We must get out of this!" Yelled Arasiniel, his words barely audible over the storm. Gortek couldn't agree more. The stone floor of the Canyon was slippery from the rain and at some parts flowing water made it nigh impossible to move on.
The question was; where could they go? There was no shelter nearby, and camping on the spot was out of question. That was when Gortek's gaze fell upon a crack in the eastern side of the plateau. The others noticed it too, and all misgivings that each of them harbored for this land were laid aside by the prospect of shelter.

"Perhaps we will find a dry place to stay until this quits," shouted Gortek. "Common, lads!" Balin agreed to this, and they entered the cave.

Gortek was glad to get out of the rain. In all his journeys he had never witnessed such a storm. It seemed Rhûn was hell-bent on hounding them to their deaths rather than letting them escape, unpunished for their sacrilege.
To distract himself from these dark thoughts he began to explore the cave. It turned out to be many caves rather than one, linked together by tunnels uncounted. Whether originally hand-crafted or formed by nature it was difficult to say for certain, but Gortek only hoped that the caves held no unpleasant surprises. There had been enough of those recently, and even the mad dwarf's spirit was at it's lowest ebb to date.

[Esgallhugwen]

Everything was attacking his senses and perception, the heat was fatigueing and the vile insects were trying to get into Nerin's moist eyes. Sweat dripped off his nose, the meat they had all eaten earlier gave him strength but it left a foul thick taste in his mouth.

Maybe it might not have been so bad if they had a better chance of getting to know one another, it all seemed a shame really, to go on this quest without finding comradery. Of course some were friendly enough and that was all Nerin needed to keep going.

The company was nearly at the end of its strength when the young dwarf heard shouting, at first it was muffled because he was caught up in his own thoughts but then he heard it clearly.

The Sea!

Nerin's head shot up and he looked ahead of him catching the silver glimmer of water. His jaw dropped and he began to pick up his pace following the others with glee.

They sped through the trees hoping for what they've all been waiting for, the treasure. As they reached the beach Nerin couldn't help but stand in awe, the disgustingly dense, humid jungle did hide something beautiful after all.

Nerin followed suit after Bali declared the water was fresh and drinkable, he laid down his axe and took off his armour. The others couldn't help but stifle a giggle as they watched him jumping up and down trying to take off his boots as fast as he could.

The water was unbelievably cool and refreshing, he splashed about when a mischievious idea occured to him. He took a deep breath and being unable to swim he simply made sure his feet could touch the bottom.

Slowly, he crept up on the other dwarves and jumped as high as his height allowed, splashing them all profusely and soon a water fight began.

After the company had refreshed themselves they made camp by the shore. For once on this journey Nerin slept rather soundly dreaming of treasure and jewels in the depts of the sea, but all too soon his dreams were shattered.

A blood chilling scream woke up the camp and all came rushing outside with weapons in hand. Kain was floundering in the Sea and the beautiful lights seemed to be going in a whirlwind like motion around him.

No they weren't lights, they were fish! Nerin had never seen such a thing and didn't know what to do, after all he wasn't a very good swimmer and couldn't possibly get out that far without drowning himself.

Bali dove into the water without a second thought but was soon attacked by fish. The Ranger, Nerin couldn't remember his name at this moment in time, reached out his long arm and pulled Bali to shore, Kain was lost to the Sea.

They had no time to recover from the loss, or to wipe the warm tears from their eyes before they were attacked.

A large thin man came swooping down swinging his sword with a frightening fury, screaming at the Dwarves in a tongue Nerin could not understand. They tried to fight him off but he was incredible swift on his feet.

He lured them into the jungle and there they fought not knowing if they were indeed hitting the enemy or each other. But when the fray had ended they found that they had won over the crazed native.

Just then the weather turned for the worse and rain poured down in torrents, soaking the company to the bone before you could Khazad. They hurried along trying to find shelter, they headed for the caves.

[Himaran]

The caves were dark. Very dark. Bali and the company lighted their way with a single torch, ducking and often stumbling through the tight rock passages. "Perhaps these were made by water," Gortek voiced. "A flood, channeled through the canyon, pushed through into this cave, making tunnels. Maybe we will find an underground stream."

"It is certainly possible," Bali said, (simply for the sake of conversation). He did not wish to mention his growing suspicion that the network was purposely carved by the same race as that of the man that had attacked them by the sea. Could this be their lair? It is certainly possible...

The dwarves continued for over half an hour in like fashion. Their torch was burning low, but they still had a little wood left in Durin's pack. The tunnel curved and turned, staying the same width and occasionally branching off in other directions. They saw no sign of life, animal or man. "Its too quiet," said Haenir, and no one was inclined to disagree.

Then suddenly, the passage ended. A rough, stone wall stood before them. "Well, do we turn around," asked an exasperated Dwalin. Bali did not answer, but instead examined the wall. He knocked on it softly with his axe butt.

"Hollow. This, my friends, is not a wall. 'Tis a door!" An excited chatter ran through the group. They seemed to forget the attack and the loss of Kain in an instant. Perhaps there was treasure in Rhûn; just not where they had expected it!

"Well, what are we waiting for! Let's bust it down!" The dwarves began to shove and hit the presumed door at different angles, each hoping that a shining chest of gold awaited them.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The Dwarves attacked the door with more energy than effect at first, driven nearly mad at the thought that finally, they might have found the treasure that they had endured so much to claim. The weeks of privation and trial, the agony of their journey, the terror of Kain’s death and the surreal horrors of their battle with the Man of the jungle – all of it seemed to spill over into this wild excess of activity as they tried in vain to open the stone door. It was Nerin who first fell back, gasping and breathless from their efforts. “This will never do!” he cried. “We cannot get through that door with our bare hands – and I’m not going to dull my axe on that rock!”

“The lad is right,” Hænir said. “We must come to some order in this!” The other Dwarves fell away and all of them joined the Man and the Elf, who had stood aloof during their bizarre attack on the stone. Hænir stepped forward and tapped on the door with the head of his axe. He had fought many a war in the deep places of the earth, against orcs, goblins and other nameless beings, but in all those encounters he had never seen such a door as this. He stepped away once more and looked up above his head and then down either side. “Look!” he cried, pointing to one side. They all hustled in close and saw a slight crack, straight as an arrow, lancing up from the floor. “We must have opened the door a bit right here,” Hænir said. “Come on lads! If we all push together right here, we might be able to open this door! It looks like it’s hinged on the other side of the hall!” Much as he tried to deny it, the thought of treasure had gone to his Dwarvish heart, and Hænir’s eyes burned for the sight of gold.

The party worked together and strained at the door. At first, it appeared they would never move it, but a sudden metallic clang followed by the sound of rending stone told them that they had shattered some locking mechanism, and the door slid open easily. They light from the hall fell into the room and onto the most pitiable sight Hænir had ever seen. A young Gondorian man cowered in the corner opposite them, his clothes in tatters and his skin laced with the red welts of a whip both cruelly and expertly wielded. One whiff of the air in the cell told them of weeks of imprisonment without the benefit of any fresh water or cleaning. Hænir had to breathe through his mouth as he stepped toward the Man, who averted his eyes and tried to crawl even further into his corner as the Dwarf approached. “There there, lad,” Hænir said as gently as he could, “we’re not the ones who’ve done this to you. Come” he said, holding out his hand, “we’re leaving this place. Give me your hand and come with us.”

“Hænir!” Bali called quietly. “Hurry up! I think that somebody is coming!” Hænir’s attention was suddenly diverted from the wan and terrified countenance of the Man, and like all the members of his party he heard coming toward them the sound of many people, rushing through the tunnels with the clang and clash of steel. They were trapped.

Gortek chuckled most unpleasantly. “Well,” he said, “at least we won’t be tempted to run away!”