Prisoner of Númenor RPG

[Regin Hardhammer]

Azarmanô recognized immediately the brilliance of Marsillion’s plan. If the eyes of the guards were focused on the group that they thought was bound for Armenelos, Azarmanô could easily enter the city through a circuitous route and escape their detection. They would have to use deception if they wanted to reach the dungeon alive, since Sauron was undoubtedly waiting for them, waiting to strike and slay them all on his altar. And this plan offered the perfect solution for entering the city undetected. Azarmanô was still quite unsure, however, of how they planned to rescue Abârpânarú once they actually arrived in Armenelos. Surely rescuing a high priority prisoner from the dungeon of Sauron himself would not be easy. Although, in his heart, he felt that somehow they would devise a method for freeing their leader. But the group must solve their problems one at a time, and the first one they had was how to get into the city without getting killed.

Of course, they would need some sort of spectacle to dramatically announce the splitting of the party. Otherwise, the dim-witted guards might not understand what was going on and which section they were supposed to follow. It would have to be melodramatic and theatrical, for Azarmanô wanted to make a profound impact when he announced the group’s fissure. Besides, he rather liked trying his hand at acting a second time, although this go around he found the character he was to portray much more to his liking. Afterwards, he hoped, there would be no doubt to any guard within ten miles what the intentions of the group were.

He leaned forward toward Marsillion and whispered in his ear, “I want to make sure our guard friends know which group to follow. Play along”

Spinning around he assumed his character with an arrogant grin, he bellowed loudly, “I do not care you lout. I will not go another inch accompanying you on this folly mission to Armenelos. I value my life too greatly to throw it away on some crazy rescue mission. Come I am abandoning this quest and returning home. Let every man who wants to live follow me. There is too much danger in trying to continue and I do not wish to find my fate on the altar like our leader. We must leave immediately.”

After his harangue, Azarmanô leaned close into Marsillion again and whispered as softly as before, “The trap is set; let us hope that the mouse will bite. Thoronmir, Abarzadan, and I shall leave in a period of ten minutes. At which time you must find a hiding spot and keep quiet till nightfall. After we ride west for half a day’s journey we shall inspect to make sure we are not followed, turn around, and approach the city from the east. Fear not for we shall ride with speed and shall not stop to rest, though we may be weary. With regards to Abarzadan, I have suspected his loyalty for quite some time and will be sure to watch him closely. He shall not try any trickery on us without my knowledge, for I have a keen eye for treachery, one trained by many years of commanding crews on the sea. Far thee well.”

“Onward men,” he shouted and lead Abarzadan and Thoronmir away from the rest of the group. As he watched the others fade slowly in the distance, he wished fervently that they would unite once again with Abârpânarú free to lead them.

[Meneltarmacil]

After arriving in Romenna and having something to eat and drink, Thoronmir stood on the balcony outside his room, waiting for the rest of the party to return. Clouds of smoke blocked the stars from view in the west and obscured Thoronmir's view of Armenelos. Thoronmir felt uneasy, as if something terrible were about to happen. Was it his imagination, or were the seas and the mountain more restless than usual lately?

He continued to watch for any signs of people coming from the west. If the unnatural turbulence in the land and the sea continued, they would need to get away fast. If they waited too long, they very well might be killed. Either way, none of them would ever see Numenor again.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Inzillomi walked alone through the streets of Romenna, her eyes fixed on the ghosted face of her husband. She saw everything, yet noticed nothing. She had spoken to her father just moments before, sharing a tear-filled reunion. Elendil was unhappy to learn of the capture of his son-in-law, and unhappier yet to learn that his grandchild accompanied the rescue party. Inzillomi had begged of him more time, but feeling the groaning of the earth beneath their feet, Elendil promised her nothing, stating only that they must hurry. Now she reflected, wishing that she could share her thoughts.

She had seen to the comfort of her travelling companions, unveiling small bags of sweets for each child. As their faces lit up with enthusiasm, Inzi could not surpress a smile, but now as she walked, a troubled look adorned her pretty face. Suddenly a familiar face snapped her from her reverie. Was it her imagination, or had Thoronmir just walked past her line of sight?

She sped up, half hoping, to meet the man whose seeming so matched the man she had known for many years. She was not mistaken... it was him.

"Thoronmir!" she cried, drawing him to a stop. She fell silent with a look of utter confusion. It changed to tenacity just as she opened her mouth, but he hastily covered her lips with his palm, drawing her into the shadows.

"My lady, do not fear. All is still well."

"Do not play tight-lipped with me, my lad." She spoke quietly and kindly, but every word was punctuated with an uncharacteristic sharpness. Why are you here? You have my forgiveness and my pity if you have left the mission, but I do not see the look of one such on your face. Where is my family?"

"My lady, I do not know." He silenced her with a raised hand. "I will lead you to Azarmanô. He will explain."

"Azarmanô is here?" she began, but he silenced her once more, taking her by the hand and swiftly leading her through the shadowed streets, avoiding the gaze of the curious.

"Azarmanô will explain." Thoronmir stated once more, performing a seemingly random series of taps upon a heavy oaken door before disappearing as quickly as he'd came into the crowd of people in the street.

[Himaran]

Abarzadan sat at a polished hardwood table, hunched over the series of maps spread out before him. No matter which entrance the group took into Armenelos, there would undoubtably be trouble. Even getting to the city itself was an issue, as random patrols of guards were still combing the wildnerness for signs of possible intruders. The man pounded his fist on the table angrily. There just had to be a way! Every city had weaknesses, every fortress had soft spot. Still, the weakness of Armenelos was doing an excellent job of hiding itself from Abarzadan's generally clever mind.

Then came the knock. A carefully-planned series of taps rang out on the apartment's heavy oaken door.

Abarzadan stood quickly. Thoronmir must have finished his errands. The man slid open several sturdy latches and swung the door inward. There, standing before him, was the last person in all of Numenor that he would have expected to see, save Abârpânarú himself: Lady Inzillomi.

Without saying a word, Abarzadan stepped inside and turned towards the apartment's single stairwell. "Azarmanô!"

[Regin Hardhammer]

Azarmanô was extremely surprised to see Lady Inzillomi appear at his doorstep in Romenna. The sudden appearance of a woman whom he had not seen for weeks struck him with astonishment. However his expression changed when he realized what a pleasure it would be to talk to her again. Although he had not thought often of her on his journey, he was undoubtedly pleased to see her. An amiable smile spread across his face at the sight of such an old friend coming to visit after so long an absence. She was someone he could trust, someone with whom he had worked for years as a member of the Faithful. He could confide in her the events of the journey and relay to her the perils that they had faced along the way. Such trust he could not share with other members of his group, particularly Abarzadan who was still as unfamiliar and cryptic as ever, although Azarmanô now no longer harbored the same suspicions against him that he once did. If Abarzadan had wanted to betray the group, he could have done so earlier with all the soldiers spying on the group. In that respect, Abârzadan had risen in stature in the eyes of the sea captain, although he still did not feel at ease with the stranger.

With a heartfelt greeting, Azarmanô directed Lady Inzillomi into his room at the small inn near the center of the city. It was one which many Faithful were using to lodge until the time came to leave for the mainland and forever abandon their ancestral homeland, something he too would have to do. As he escorted her to the main room, he saw her visage troubled and pulsing with questions about their journey and her still-imprisoned husband. She must wonder at my presence here more than I wonder at hers, he thought. How did she ever come to find me in this large city and how did she know even to look? No matter, I will answer her questions forthright and feed her voracious need for knowledge if not quell her vexed heart.

“My lady,” he began as soon as he sat down,“It is indeed good to see you again.” He briefly inquired if she had seen his family since arriving in the city, but she was unable to give him any further information as to how they fared. He waited for a short period of time trying to think of the proper explanation and carefully choosing his words before proceeding calmly. “We have not yet rescued your husband. The group drew near to Armenelos before discovering that the king’s men had placed spies on us and would surely kill us as soon as we drew close enough. Therefore, we decided to split the group into two. The other half was supposed to wait near the city and attract the attention of the guards while my group rode west pretending to abandon the task and flee to Romenna. We were to then turn around after half a day’s journey and approach the city in secret from the east to rescue Abârpânarú. However, after the appointed time for reversal arrived, I sensed that we were still being watched. After I rode a little further, my fears had been validated as I noticed a royal guard stalking our party as we moved. I gathered that the guards suspected some sort of staged plan and followed me to make sure that I was indeed abandoning the mission. I had no other choice but to ride all the way Romenna at great haste, reaching the city just over ten hours after we had started.

After I was sure that the guards had dissipated and disguises had been acquired, I made plans to leave for Armenelos under cover of darkness. I was finishing my final preparations to leave in a few hours when you arrived at my door. What brings you here my Lady and how did you find us? Fear not for we shall leave for Armenelos as soon as night falls to rescue Abârpânarú from the clutches of Sauron the foul. On my family’s honor, I will swear to you that we will return bearing your husband alive.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

“I do not care you lout. I will not go another inch accompanying you on this folly mission to Armenelos. I value my life too greatly to throw it away on some crazy rescue mission. Come I am abandoning this quest and returning home. Let every man who wants to live follow me. There is too much danger in trying to continue and I do not wish to find my fate on the altar like our leader. We must leave immediately.”

Azarmanô spoke both loudly and with great conviction, and Kâthaanî was forced to smother a grin as he said it. Her cousin’s plan was sure to lead the King’s men astray. She hated to give the task of rescuing her father into another’s hands, but at least she could play her part well in this diversion.

“If life means abandoning my family, I choose it not, Captain Azarmanô.” She spat the words at him, not as loudly as he had spoken his challenge, but still clear enough to be heard. “I will stay with my cousin and we will not degrade our good names by desertion and betrayal.” Angrily she beckoned to Tiru and he followed her away from the small group of bickering men.

Once they were close together and far from the much more interesting gathering behind them, Kâthaanî leaned close and whispered to the stocky man. “Tiru, I almost believed the good captain was leaving us for safety and home.”

Tiru nodded, a solemn look on his dark face. “Yes, Mistress, we have staged this well. If the King’s Men” – he spat as he said it -- “If the King’s Men do not play our game then they are not the fools I believed them to be.”

“They are fools.” Kâthaanî thought of their blindness toward the true nature of their King’s so-called friend and advisor. “They have all put their trust in the treachery of Sauron. They are fools indeed.”

As the afternoon neared its peak the three members of the Karíbzîr household stood in a row on the ridgetop, their shadows barely beginning to stretch out in front of them, as they watched their three companions ride east in a cloud of dust. Marsillion’s face wore a look of mingled regret and determination, so perfectly feigned that again Kâthaanî fought the urge to laugh. He spun on his heel and walked to where the three horses they had left were tethered, packed with their belongings and ready to depart on their own separate course.

“Well, Cousin Kâthaanî,” Marsillion tossed her a smile at last, “There is day left and still miles for us to cover. Let us hope that we can do this thing.”

“Yes, Cousin.” She returned his smile, but spoke dryly. “Let us hope that we can do this, but not too well.” She drew the short worn blade of her knife from under her cloak. “I do not fancy becoming my father’s cellmate and I put little trust in this to save my skin, so let us be cautious and fleet of foot.” With that they mounted their horses, turning their heads toward the North and Noirinan.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

As this information flooded her ears so honestly and concisely, Inzillomi showed a brief moment of weakness, wiping dampness from the corner of her eye. It was so good to be with Azarmanô, a man with whom she could share her thoughts and worries. Though she loved each of her travelling companions, they were innocents, the lot of them. Not a one had the gall or depth of spirit to become a guardian, or a leader. They believed, surely, but it would never do to involved them in rescues, or burden them with information they could not understand. With Azarmanô, Inzi could spill her thoughts, relieving herself of the burden of stoicism.

"Captain, I should have said this at first sight of you today, but you have little idea how much a relief it is to see you." Inzi sat silently for a while, sipping the hot tea that Azarmanô had deposited into her hands. "So my daughter...?"

"Flourishing. I sense that she feels uncertain of her place among these men, but I judge that, when she learns it, it will make her stronger in spirit than ever before."

"And Marsillion?"

"A brave leader. Everyone is doing quite well, Inzi. Outside Armenelos, your family and your faithful Tiru draw the guards' attention. We here leave in a short while. Still, one thought plagues me. However did you know to find us?"

Inzillomi grinned impishly, the picture of youthful mischief. "Cannot a lady have some secrets, old friend? But if you must know... I happened to glimpse Thoronmir and he thought it best that he should bring me to you to learn the truth."

"Ah... that old rascal. Deposting ladies on doorsteps, is he?" Inzillomi smiled again before her face took on a more serious quality.

"Azarmanô, you've told me that Thoronmir cannot continue with the mission. Will it be possible for only two to complete a rescue? I have the utmost faith in you, but I still feel uncertain of Abarzadan. Has he yet shared of himself? We have shown good faith in letting him know our troubles, though obviously not all of them... Should not good faith be returned in good faith?"

To this Azarmanô had little to say. Their mysterious companion remained as such, but he could be trusted nonetheless. With her friend's words, Inzillomi dropped the issue. She trusted his judgement.

"Now... there is the issue of Kali. Whereas my usual mount can be stabled at need for days at a time, this lass... gets bored. I will take her back for my own ride so that her talents will not be overlooked, even by accident or unknowing. That would never do." Inzi fell silent for another while. This silence, Azarmanô felt, was more pensive.

"Azarmanô..."

"Yes?"

"I would like to ride with you. Without Thoronmir, you are only two, though two with kariborim. I would be an asset, I believe, to the mission. I can do nothing here save wait. With you, I believe I could make a difference. What say you?"

He stood silent in consideration. This was no small favor that she asked. She saw in his eyes that he required time to think, and as the appointed leader in this situation, there was no point in pulling rank. If he declined her request, she would return to Elendil.

"Think, Azarmanô, and I shall return shortly. If you decide yes, I will be prepared to ride upon return. If the answer is no... I will drink to your health, wish you luck, and pray for your swift return with my family."

--------------------

A very short time later she returned to the Inn. She doubted very much that any of the men on this complicated mission could have packed less, or as swiftly as she. Her packing, really, was more unpacking than anything. She had not yet managed to empty her saddle-bags before she took a walk and ran, fortuitously as it was, into Thoronmir, and so she was able, simply, to toss several bags into an unused corner and half empty one before tucking a few small blades into a pocket.

She had changed into an outfit far more suitable for this kind of work, tightly packing a soft gown into an empty space. One can never be sure when a bit of indignant nobility and sophistication comes in handy. she thought, as she belted a pair of gray pants. The legs were loose, seeming as a skirt when she walked, but for riding offered much more comfort. Over, she wore a loose tunic-length white blouse, with side-slits for mobility. Belting the shirt was a wide black sash, knotted to the side, in which was tucked a pair of daggers, several lock picks, and a vial of liquid she hoped she would not need. Foxgloves... she thought with a sigh... What a fascinating effect they have on the heart. Her hair was tightly plaited by a maid as Inzi tucked non-perishables into each spare corner of the one bag she rode with. Less than an hour after she had left, Inzillomi returned to the Inn, lightly laden, and ready to ride.

She knocked once more on the door, in perfect imitation of Thoronmir's earlier one. The door opened, and she entered.