Prisoner of Númenor RPG

[piosenniel]

Meneltarmacil's post

Thoronmir let the arrow fly, and the deer fell to the ground. He was about to walk over to it when three riders on black horses rode up.

"Well, well, if it isn't Sakaladûn," said their leader, getting off his horse. "Finally found you, eh? The King's been looking for you for quite a while now."

Thoronmir, formerly known as Sakaladûn, answered him. "I stopped listening to that man when he started going mad. If you want me to come with you, you'll have to force me."

The man laughed and reached for a weapon. Thoronmir reacted faster, leaping up onto the leader's horse and kicking it hard. The black stallion rode off at full speed. The other two riders drew their spears and pursued Thoronmir as he fled, but Thoronmir managed to lose them in the forest.

Thoronmir rode into the hiding place of the Faithful that was nearby. He was met at the entrance by one of their guards.

"Thoronmir, I'm glad you got back here. Where did you get the horse?" the guard asked curiously.

"I ran into some old friends from Armenelos who really wanted me to come back with them," the Thoronmir said. "I declined the offer and borrowed one of their horses to escape with."

The other man didn't smile a whole lot. "Good thing you escaped, because we're really going to need your help here." he said. "You see, there's been a problem. Mabalar has been taken captive and they said we need to act now..."

[piosenniel]

Feanor of the Peredhil's post

The rain poured from the black clouds like so many thousand tears. Lightening lit the tormented sky as another wave shifted the ground. Inzillomí Elendili moved quietly through the shadows of the awnings, coming in from the stables. From cosseting her black mare, Alya, the mistress of the house had been startled by the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Reaching the house before her unknown guests, Inzillomí went to her sitting room and settled quickly, picking up a piece of embroidery on her way. To a stranger, it would look as though she had been sewing quietly for some time. A fist pounded on the oaken doors, echoing through the large house. She rose gracefully, gliding delicately to the entry way. Meeting a maid in the hallway, she waved her off silently. Opening the heavy doors, she was faced with a full guard of the King's Men. Briefly she wondered where her own guards were, until she saw a flash of silver in the doorway of the stables. One man stepped forward.

"To what do I owe this honor?" Inzillomí asked cautiously. She knew this man; they had been childhood companions. These days, however, it did not pay to trust those you once knew. The uniformed man hesitated as streams of water ran down his cheeks. "Officer, it is raining and my floor is getting wet. Either state your business or come in for a cup of tea, but I will not tolerate the warping of a perfectly good door frame because of carelessness."

The officer nearly laughed, quickly hiding his smile with a well-timed cough. He had been sent to escort the out of favor families to Rómenna but he felt compassion for them. He had known Inzillomí for many years. "Inzi--" he caught himself. Standing up taller, his smile vanished. It was one thing to be compassionate, another to be soft. He had his orders. "Mistress Inzillomí, the King offers you the honor of relocating your family to Rómenna. You will please pack only what you can carry on one horse. You will please be ready in one hour. Your escort will be waiting outside your doors to ensure that you do not lose your way to the front garden."

Hiding her panic, Inzillomí smiled at her childhood friend. Snake! her mind screamed. "No." she replied calmly.

"You must excuse me, Mistress, but I thought I heard you say "no". You are please to be aware that you have no choice."

"I am and I do. I have business today that will not wait, as I am sure you will quite understand. You will have to return tomorrow when my family is all together and prepared. I will not leave without them, and I will not leave my belongings behind. May your day be as peace-filled as my own." With that, Inzillomí politely shut the door in the officers' faces.

Hoping her audacity would not serve to get them all killed, Inzillomí spared a fearful moment wondering at the whereabouts of her family. She peered out the window, seeing the King's Men clustered in a small group. Suddenly the men scattered, mounting up and set off down the road. Short-lived relief filled Inzillomí as the rain slowed. As quickly as the storm had begun, it was over. Within a short time, the sun shone brightly, drying the land. A brisque wind pulled crimson leaves from the trees and Inzillomí, tired and worried, walked alone through her garden admiring the last dark blossoms of the season. Azarmanô was due with tidings from Elendil any hour; Marsillion had gone to meet his cousin; Abârpânarú and Kâthaanî would not be returning. Inzillomí's family was scattered and she was left to lead the remaining Anannost to whatever end. It was her responisibility to get her people safely to the East. Suddenly, heavy hoof beats filled the air once more. Turning quickly on her heel, Inzillomí Elendili ran, skirts billowing in the wind, her hair streaming out behind her, hurrying to meet unexpected visitors for the second time in so many hours.

[piosenniel]

samsmyhero's post

Tiru hummed softly as he came out of the stall. He had changed the old bedding for new and refilled the manger with fresh hay. The water trough outside the stable was full of water pulled from the well. All was taken care of. Not that there was any sense of urgency. His master and the little mistress were not due back for some days. Tiru closed his eyes for a brief moment, silently offering a prayer for the success of their venture. He smiled at his own absurdity; he didn't even believe in the gods, although his master had spent many hours instructing him. Well, he shrugged his shoulders, it couldn't hurt.

So much was riding on their journey, though. The very existence of the Kariborim was at stake. If Abârpânaru was not successful in getting the horses to Rómenna, if they missed the sailing for the east . . . No! Tiru shook his head vigorously. He would not even think such thoughts! Besides, there was still much to do before leaving for the harbor to meet Captain Azarmanô, who was arriving from Rómenna with supplies and news from Elendil. It was being said that the time for the departure for the east was coming upon them quickly.

Tiru stroked his beard thoughtfully. Even if his beloved six came safely to the ships, there were many others who would not be going. Tiru worried about these others, the Karibi. He knew there was no room for them on the ships. It was fortunate enough that his master and mistress had been able to secure a place for him, being only their servant. Still, the thought of leaving the Karibi almost broke his heart. He had already lost one family; and, now, to lose this one . . .

The horsemaster's thoughts were interrupted by the, as yet, distant sound of thundering hoofs. This sound was one so familiar to him that it was like unto his own heart beat. "The Kariborim!" he gasped. "What . . . how?" Tiru wasted no time, but flew himself, as fast as his legs could carry him, across the stable yard and down the broad path that led to the road. Even as the swirl of dust accompanying them grew larger, he could make out Kâthaanî, the little mistress, and Marsillion, her cousin, with five of the six steeds which had left Andunië eight days ago. But he could tell at a glance that his master, Abârpânaru, and the mare Lômi, were not with them.

Tiru's heart raced and his mind seethed. Disaster! Some sort of catastrophe had befallen his master and now . . . and now, what? He must calm himself and be prepared; the mistress and her daughter would surely need him, and he, at least, was reliable, unlike those so called gods!

Within moments, the two cousins had drawn up to him. Dirt and sweat covered Kâthaanî's face and her hair looked as if she had been in a high wind off the ocean. Marsillion looked shocked and angry. Breathlessly, Kâthaanî leaned over Nitirú's neck and in a rush, told Tiru what had occurred on the unlucky journey to Rómenna. Tiru's face belied little of the anguish that churned in his stomach. Captured by the King's Men! The very worst that could have happened! Poor Lômi! She would be so upset and unhappy if strangers were to take her. And the master too, of course.

"What must we do, little mistress?" Tiru gasped, as Kâthaanî stopped to take a breath.

"This was the day appointed for Azarmanô's arrival was it not?" She rushed on, not waiting for a reply. "You must go to the harbor and meet him there as planned. But tell him of my father's plight. Ask Azarmanô to render what assistance he can – I'm sure we will need every man available to rescue him. Hurry back!" With that she and Marsillion were urging the horses forward once again, racing, Tiru was sure, to her mother, to let her know the grim tidings and alert the other Annanost.

Tiru ran back to the stables and quickly saddled up the grey mare he had waiting, already anticipating the trip to the harbor. Hoping that Azarmanô would be at the harbor, which, with sea voyages, arrivals were always an uncertainty, he went into the field beyond and caught up another mount for the Captain. He saddled her too, and was off down the road, just as Kâthaanî was at her mother's side, relating her sad news. With a brief moment of regret that he could not tend to the needs of the five Kariborim which had returned, Tiru focused on his task and set off for the harbor at a break neck speed.

[piosenniel]

Regin Hardhammer's post

Azarmanô stared at the cove, which was surrounded on three sides by towering cliffs of sheer granite. It was a tight fit for the Gwan, but the ship slipped through the narrow opening just as it had done countless times before. The journey to the western part of the island had been placid, something that could not be said for many of his trips. Azarmanô marveled at how this group of the Faithful had been able to flout the King’s decree and refuse to move eastward as he himself had done some while ago. Of course, he was not often at home, but on board his ship engaged in various trading missions. He frequently traveled to the colonies with a shipload of goods from Númenor and traded these items with his fellow countrymen and whatever local merchants he could find who were still willing to deal with a man of Númenor. Despite his love of the sea and the joy he felt doing honest work, he often chafed at the length of these voyages, yearning to return to his radiant wife Eirien and his young son Thorin.

But today was no ordinary supply mission. Elendil had commanded him to sail west and pick up the last remaining Faithful and bring them back to join the others who had gathered at Rómenna and would soon be fleeing Númenor to sail across the oceans. It was with a heavy heart that Azarmanô prepared to bid farewell to his homeland. Despite persecution from the King and those who followed his lead, he still felt a strong attachment to the land of his fathers. But the departure from Númenor could not be avoided. Disaster and doom were fast approaching the land, punishment for man’s insolence. For many years, the kings had shunned the friendship of the Eldar in their greedy quest for immortality. Azarmanô understood the Faithful must depart across the sea before all was lost. Besides, he thought, he would still have the sea.

Azarmanô went down on the shore and waited for Tiru, the contact from the local Faithful who usually met him and took delivery of the supplies. Today Tiru did not look pleased. His face was wan and nervous and he was moving fast. Azarmanô called out in anticipation, “I have news for you. You must gather the others and tell them that the time has come for us to leave Númenor. Elendil gathers the fleet in the east for the Faithful to depart. We can wait no longer. Tell your neighbors to gather in this cove and I will take them to where Elendil’s ships are gathering in the eastern bay.”

Tiru replied in a rushed tone, “My friend, I’m afraid that we can not yet go. You see the King’s men have captured Abârpânarú Karíbzîr, my master. We have just found out the sad news, and people are needed to help in the rescue." Tiru looked up expectently and added, Perhaps you would be willing to come with us. We have need of another strong bow.”

“I would be honored to rescue the lifeblood of such a noble leader. But we must not tarry. Speed will be needed. Elendil’s ships wait for us to arrive so that they may depart. Every moment they delay is another chance for the King’s men to find the Faithful. My family also is on a ship that will cross the seas and I long to return to them soon. We must be swift and relentless in our search and then go with all speed to the harbor of Romenna. Let me tell my mate to guide the Gwan back east and then I will join you.”

Azarmanô returned to his ship and told his mate to steer the craft eastward and have it wait for his arrival when he returned with the others. “Don’t fear,” he added, “I will return soon.”

Azarmanô turned to Tiru and mounted the chestnut brown horse that had been brought for him. “Let us go to gather the others. Away.” He flicked the reins and clipped his heels to the steed's side and began to ride with all haste.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Kâthaanî was nervous and tired. Her frantic ride had taken barely more than three days. She had slept little, her hair and clothes were caked with dust, and her muscles were sore. She had changed mounts frequently, to save their strength as much as possible, but still on the third day they had slowed. She also had slowed, until Marsillion met her outside the city. Mounted once more on Nitirú with Marsillion riding Mani, the two of them pounded homeward.

Now she nodded to Marsillion as she gave him Nitirú's reins; he was still mounted on Mani, having left his mare to find her own way home. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and briefly rested a hand on her shoulder before swinging down and leading the sweating Kariborim toward the stables and a hard earned rest. "I will talk to Mother." Kâthaanî called back over her shoulder, already setting a brisk pace for the house. Her head was swimming with the intricacy of this problem. The fact that her father had been taken was desperate enough, but together with the brief time left before their departure... rescue seemed nearly impossible.

As she neared the room where Inzillomí often spent her mornings, Kâthaanî ran a hand over her matted hair, dragging her fingers through it in attempt to force it into some kind of order. Pushing the doors to her mother's sitting room open, she found her mother at the table with a small sampler in one hand and a needle in the other. Only the smallest tremors in her fingers and the lines around her mouth gave away Inzillomí's nervousness. For a few seconds Kâthaanî simply stood in the doorway her hands at her sides, fingering the edges of her sleeves; then she rushed forward unable to keep calm any longer.

"Mother, they've taken him away... the King's guards, they arrested him and they took Lômi too. And Tiru's gone to meet Azarmanô already, and it's time... it's time. But they took Father. By now he's in Armenelos... and the ships... and I rode..." she dissolved into tears. Kâthaanî stiffened momentarily as she felt her mother drop down beside her and put her arms around her shoulders. She had long considered herself too adult for coddling, but she soon relaxed and her hysteria passed. She breathed in deeply and looked up at Inzillomí. Her mother's face was pale and her eyes ringed with shadows, but she was calm and composed. Kâthaanî quickly composed herself and stood up.

"The treasure you carried, is it safe?" Inzillomí asked quietly, sliding back into her chair and picking up her embroidery. Kâthaanî nodded. She'd checked the moment she'd remembered; her mother's palantir, the precious seeing-stone and heirloom of Elendil's house was still safely in Khibil's saddlebags where it had been through their whole journey.

"We must send men to find him." Kâthaanî whispered. "We cannot leave him behind."

"No, we cannot. Perhaps my son, Nimilroth, could go?" a voice said from the doorway. Ziraphel, Abârpânarú's sister, walked into the room. Neither mother or daughter had heard her approach. She looked at them appraisingly. "Inzillomí, was that Gimilnar I just saw? A King's guardsman here can mean nothing good." Kâthaanî's eyes widened as she and her aunt listened to Inzillomí's news. It seemed that things were going to become more complicated still.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Inzillomí caressed her daughter's hair as she would a frightened foal, feeling Kâthaanî relax under the gentle touch. She looked up at Ziraphel, gazing deep into her eyes. "Gimilnar indeed, sister. The King has offered us the 'honor' of relocating to the East. His Men will return tomorrow, mid-morning, to escort us. I fear what Gimilnar will say when he does not find all of my family together."

Kâthaanî glanced at her mother, fear in her eyes, anger in every line of her face. "Mother, I will go to Abârpânarú. I will save him." Inzillomí caught her daughter's chin, tilting her face toward her. Kâthaanî read her mother's expression, drawing away abruptly. "You would have me stay!" she cried, angry. "You would leave your own husband at the hands of a crazed King and his men!"

Inzillomí let her daughter go, unfathomable hurt showing in every motion. Ziraphel spoke. "Cerveth, child, you must never speak to your mother so. You cannot conceive the responsibilities that she has shouldered. You cannot understand the pain you have just caused her." Inzillomí thanked her husband's sister with a glance, looking sadly at her daughter. She spoke coldly.

"Cerveth, if the Valar hear my prayer, you will never know the burden of my work. There is more here than you know. Your father will not be left behind. Elendil would not sail without us, but there is so little time, and so much danger." She softened, eyes asking for understanding. "Without your father, Cerveth, it is my task to lead the Faithful safely East. How am I to do this if you would have us all ride to his rescue, trailing the King's Men... and his wrath?"

[samsmyhero]

Tiru's thoughts ran faster than the swift mare carrying him back to his master's house. By now the little mistress would have told Lady Inzillomí the terrible news and he could only imagine the anguish and alarm that must be gripping both mother and daughter. But Tiru had not served the family for these forty years past without discovering the core of steel that lay at the heart of his mistress. Was she not the daughter of Elendil himself, leader of the Faithful now that his brave father had sailed into the west? Even in this moment of greatest crisis, Lady Inzillomí would not wilt and succumb to despair, like some hothouse flower. She would know what needed to be done, and make sure it was accomplished.

Glancing briefly over at the man riding knee to knee with him, Tiru replayed in his mind his brief exchange with Captain Azarmanô at the harbor. It had been both encouraging and troubling. That the Captain would be willing to assist in a rescue attempt was a hopeful sign. At least it would not only be Abârpânarú's family which believed that rescue was possible. But the news which Azarmanô brought from Rómenna now made the situation acute. There would be so very little time in which to accomplish so daunting a task All the Annanost should at this very minute be packing their most treasured belongings and making ready to sail back east to Elendil and the waiting boats. Instead, at least some must venture to Arminalêth , the very last place any of them would wish to go at this black hour, and walk right into the lion's den. What a disaster!

Finally arriving at the house, Tiru was on the ground before the grey mare had even stopped. "Captain, I'll take your horse, if you'd care to step inside. I'm sure my lady Inzillomí will want to hear your news and will want to talk of what to do about my master's arrest." Tiru stepped forward and grabbed the chestnut's reins, and Azarmanô deftly slid from her back.

"My thanks. . . I'll see you inside then?" From the tone of uncertainty in his voice, it was clear Azarmanô was unsure as to Tiru's further involvement in the situation. As the sea captain strode towards the house, the servant realized that perhaps he was mistaken to assume so blithely that he would be sent as part of the rescue. Oh, to be sure, he was going, with their blessings or without. The Kariborim were his family now, and he would not scuttle away to Rómenna with his tail between his legs, leaving Lômi to her fate! But surely . . . his mistress would know his heart, and would understand. They could not refuse to send him. Servant he might be, and his hair, what was left of it, was now streaked with grey. Yet he was still fit, stronger even than many men much younger, and larger, than he. And his skill with a bow was known, if only in the hunt. No, his mistress would never deny him his right to a place in whatever plan she would set in motion to rescue her husband. But, what if others thought differently?

Hurrying to tend to the winded horses, Tiru resolved to go straight on to the house as soon as he was finished. He tarried just moments to check on the other Kariborim, and, seeing they had been well cared for, he hurried out of the stable. Whatever plan the Annanost might come up with, Tiru knew one thing with absolute certainty – he would be going to Arminalêth, to rescue Lômi, and his master!