Númenórean Blood Runs Black RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Firefoot · 11-07-2005, 05:29 PM

Menelcar stayed for a bit inside the cabin after Telumehtar had left, jotting down some notes in the record book. Or rather, he was attempting to do so. He might jot down a phrase or two but then find his own pen stilled. His thoughts were simply too scattered to attend to business. With a sigh, he closed the book and tucked it back in a pocket. There would be plenty of time to take care of it later.

Restlessly, he stood up and paced the small cabin a couple times but found the space too confining. With no particular destination in mind he left the quarters and found his feet taking him towards the bow of the ship. The decks were busy, with sailors heading here and there, but no one paid him much mind, for which he was glad. Upon reaching the foremost point of the ship, he stopped and leaned on the rail, noting the pleasant breeze that ruffled his hair and clothes. The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden light over the long sloping hills. The dark shadows created a sharp contrast that only enhanced the landscape. Menelcar smiled slightly at the beautiful sight, but he did not focus much on it.

After a few minutes, he took out a pen and book, but not this time the record book he had been using all day. This one was his personal journal. He wrote slowly and thoughtfully, recording most of what came to mind. Why Telumehtar enjoys traveling by ship so much I don’t think I’ll ever understand. The occasional military campaign is rather enjoyable; it breaks up the steady routine of life in the city, but I should much prefer to travel by horse, or even on foot as the case may be. There is little of any interest on these rolling, cramped ships, though it is of course unavoidable on this mission.

He continued with thoughts about the morning, then captain and ship. And then as his thoughts started to drift once more, so also did his pen. Eventually, his pen stilled and he simply enjoyed being alone for a bit. Long ago, when it was his brother who had been the friendly one and not the king, he had been envious of his easy way with people, but Menelcar had long since learned that there was little to be gained from such company – they never understood him, though he had quickly come to understand them, fickle and simple as they were. He had long since learned to make his own way, and now delighted times spent alone without being lonely. And he remained there for a while, watching the golden light fade as the sun set beyond the horizon.

Kath · 11-08-2005, 02:56 AM

Grateful to have got off so lightly, Curamir and Nimir were quick to go about their new duties. They made their way down to the weapons room and found all the cloths and polishes they would need to clean the swords. Deciding it would be quicker to make a sort of production line, with Curamir cleaning the swords of any stains and Nimir polishing them to a bright shine, the two set up work areas close together and got down to work.

The task was repetitive and soon became boring, with the only excitement being caused by Curamir, who nearly cut off a finger when the sword he was holding slipped and just missed the hand he had resting on the bench. Still, once they had done a few swords, they knew what they were doing and soon turned to conversation to keep themselves entertained. They began with the usual topics, what the weather was like and how long each of them had been training for a mission such as this and what they thought of the captain. Eventually though they ran out of small talk topics. By this time Curamir was feeling that he knew this new friend reasonably well, having heard most of his family history and events from his past, and felt confident enough to ask the question that had been preying on his mind ever since he had learned that Nimir's father was in the army. Carefully bringing the topic up, Curamir was pleased to find that Nimir seemed able to speak of his father without too much pain and went ahead.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, Nimir, but I'm just curious as to whether your father would ever have known mine? I mean since they would have been in the army at about the same time it might be possible. His name was Ferethor Steele, do you remember your father ever mentioning him?"

He looked at his fellow soldier, but the hopeful expression on his face began to fade when he saw that Nimir was shaking his head.

11-08-2005, 02:56 AM	#2
Kath Everlasting Whiteness Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Perusing the laminated book of dreams Posts: 4,533	Grateful to have got off so lightly, Curamir and Nimir were quick to go about their new duties. They made their way down to the weapons room and found all the cloths and polishes they would need to clean the swords. Deciding it would be quicker to make a sort of production line, with Curamir cleaning the swords of any stains and Nimir polishing them to a bright shine, the two set up work areas close together and got down to work. The task was repetitive and soon became boring, with the only excitement being caused by Curamir, who nearly cut off a finger when the sword he was holding slipped and just missed the hand he had resting on the bench. Still, once they had done a few swords, they knew what they were doing and soon turned to conversation to keep themselves entertained. They began with the usual topics, what the weather was like and how long each of them had been training for a mission such as this and what they thought of the captain. Eventually though they ran out of small talk topics. By this time Curamir was feeling that he knew this new friend reasonably well, having heard most of his family history and events from his past, and felt confident enough to ask the question that had been preying on his mind ever since he had learned that Nimir's father was in the army. Carefully bringing the topic up, Curamir was pleased to find that Nimir seemed able to speak of his father without too much pain and went ahead. "I hope you don't mind my asking, Nimir, but I'm just curious as to whether your father would ever have known mine? I mean since they would have been in the army at about the same time it might be possible. His name was Ferethor Steele, do you remember your father ever mentioning him?" He looked at his fellow soldier, but the hopeful expression on his face began to fade when he saw that Nimir was shaking his head. Last edited by Kath; 11-10-2005 at 03:01 PM.

11-07-2005, 05:29 PM	#1
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	Menelcar stayed for a bit inside the cabin after Telumehtar had left, jotting down some notes in the record book. Or rather, he was attempting to do so. He might jot down a phrase or two but then find his own pen stilled. His thoughts were simply too scattered to attend to business. With a sigh, he closed the book and tucked it back in a pocket. There would be plenty of time to take care of it later. Restlessly, he stood up and paced the small cabin a couple times but found the space too confining. With no particular destination in mind he left the quarters and found his feet taking him towards the bow of the ship. The decks were busy, with sailors heading here and there, but no one paid him much mind, for which he was glad. Upon reaching the foremost point of the ship, he stopped and leaned on the rail, noting the pleasant breeze that ruffled his hair and clothes. The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden light over the long sloping hills. The dark shadows created a sharp contrast that only enhanced the landscape. Menelcar smiled slightly at the beautiful sight, but he did not focus much on it. After a few minutes, he took out a pen and book, but not this time the record book he had been using all day. This one was his personal journal. He wrote slowly and thoughtfully, recording most of what came to mind. Why Telumehtar enjoys traveling by ship so much I don’t think I’ll ever understand. The occasional military campaign is rather enjoyable; it breaks up the steady routine of life in the city, but I should much prefer to travel by horse, or even on foot as the case may be. There is little of any interest on these rolling, cramped ships, though it is of course unavoidable on this mission. He continued with thoughts about the morning, then captain and ship. And then as his thoughts started to drift once more, so also did his pen. Eventually, his pen stilled and he simply enjoyed being alone for a bit. Long ago, when it was his brother who had been the friendly one and not the king, he had been envious of his easy way with people, but Menelcar had long since learned that there was little to be gained from such company – they never understood him, though he had quickly come to understand them, fickle and simple as they were. He had long since learned to make his own way, and now delighted times spent alone without being lonely. And he remained there for a while, watching the golden light fade as the sun set beyond the horizon.