Prisoner of Númenor RPG

[littlemanpoet]

Míriel waited behind the thick velvet curtain. She could see everything. Mabalar had been led into the sacrificial chamber; and he seemed to recognize the three others who had preceded him. The girl, could she be family? His daughter? She caught an exchanged glance between them, and knew it must be so. The sorrow in their faces convinced her. That could have been her daughter. The girl was beautiful. Míriel had never met the woman Mabalar had married, but had heard of her. Inzillomí, she was called, of the house of Andúnië, daughter of Elendil. Mabalar had married well; maybe better than he might have, had she become his wife. For she knew how the ancestry went, a lady who should have ruled, passed over for her younger brother. It seemed that all had gone awry because of that.

Míriel held the potion in her hand. That fool, Herugor, had been so malleable to her purposes. All that had been needed was a little female attention - not so much as she would regret later - and he had become putty, giving her every desire of her heart's whim. So he thought, not knowing her purpose. The concentration spider's venom would render its imbiber dead to the world in all seeming, for days, or at least hours, depending on the imbiber. All she needed was a distraction.

What was that noise of banging on the door from which Mabalar had come? Who could want to come in? It was much safer out. Where was Tarík? Had he gotten her message to him? He must have, unless he had been kept from doing so. She had bade him tell Mabalar that they must not leave until he received her gift. She knew she could trust Moizandû to funnel the prisoners into his underground. He had told her the entrance to the secret passage, and she had guarded his secret with great care. The palantír must leave the Temple precincts. Sauron must not get it. She had been careful to keep secret from him, and from Herugor, but once the doom came upon Númenor, who could say what that evil one might uncover?

There was an odd rumble in the distance. Was there an army marching outside? No, it was growing. A herd of animals escaped from the nearby pens, racing for the Temple entrance? Absurd. It kept growing. The floor dropped a few inches from beneath her feet. She almost fell. This was the moment! It was an earthquake. The floor kept shifting, the ground beneath them groaning with a terrible roar. Míriel stole into the chamber in the confusion, keeping low to the shifting floor as the guards and their prisoners fought for balance, vainly trying to stay on their feet.

Mabalar saw her. His eyes widened briefly. She came to him and placed the vial in his chained hands.

"Drink this now. It will save you."

She left him and made her way back to the curtains as the floor continued to rock, the roar of the earth slowly dissipating. When she had regained her composure, and her feet, she looked back. Mabalar lay on the floor, his face looking paler already. Around him, his daughter and her friends were fighting with their guards.
The door to the dungeons flew open. She turned away and moved quickly back to her chambers. She might have been seen, and knew that she must not be found near the chamber of sacrifice. It was time to retrieve the palantír and wait for an opportune moment, to give it to the safekeeping of Mabalar, once he awakened.