Treachery of Men RPG

[Anguirel]

Torguar was not perturbed by his daughter’s sullen tone; she was offering no essential rebellion, which relieved him. Though full of bluster, especially when addressing his wife and daughter, he did not relish real quarrels that went beyond what he regarded as good-natured yelling.

“Don’t you worry your head about it, my girl, your father’s not cruel and he’s not an idiot either, eh, isn’t that right, wife? Of course you’ll get a chance to meet the lad. Soon enough, in fact, so brighten up. I have spoken to his mother, and the young man is to visit us tomorrow.”

He knew of the unfortunate death that had struck at his daughter’s hopes and heart, but he imagined that the slain suitor could easily be replaced in Tora’s affections. Women were like that, after all. Give them a home and a man, any man, and they clung to him. And by the sound of it, this Drenda was not just anyone – he was a noble youth with considerable prospects.

“Of course, Tora my girl, I would not pledge you to someone I hadn’t given a proper examining. Who knows? Their side of the bargain may not hold; the mother may have talked up her pup; it wouldn’t surprise me. But the word is he’s a good man, well, a boy really, younger than you are, I think; not much money, but a strong arm, an excellent hunter, and plenty of courage. Noble blood, you know. A fine catch for the family. His name is Drenda, son of Drenduld; the mother is called Gausen. The boy lives at the Hall; if you marry him, you’ll be presented to the Chieftain himself, I should expect!”

Torguar smiled widely and gave his daughter a quick clench, conveying a throwaway, momentary sense of love. Then he let her go, and started to walk out, giving her a wink as he left:

“And he’s tall and good looking. What more could a girl like you ask, eh?”

[Child of the 7th Age]

Khandr quickly led the Elves back down the corridor and into the large room where the rest of the party was waiting. The rest of his companions followed close behind. For the next half hour, there was little conversation. Khandr did what he could to cover his earlier blunder and to encourage his guests to linger at the table. Dishes loaded with cheese and pastries were passed among the guests. Briga hurried from one diner to the next, carrying a large flask of sweet red wine, being careful to refill the cups as soon as they were emptied. At Khandr's bidding, she was especially attentive to the envoys.

Only after many cups had been emptied, with the flame of the torches burning low, did the guests forcus their thoughts on other things. It was Khandr who gave the first signal, turning towards the Elves to speak. When he did so, he spoke with an openness and frankness that surprised many at the table. "My friends, I apologize again for my error. Never would I greet a friend in such a manner. For that is how I see us: Elves and Men bound in friendship, bound by oath, who must stand together against the long cold hand that reaches down from the far north. I have only one excuse for my behavior. These long months in this village have dimmed my judgment. They have made me less than I was. I feel compelled to speak frankly. Perhaps I am unwise to do this. Yet someone must know and hear what I am about to say. Someone I trust...and I do trust the honor and integrity of the Elves."

Khandr looked down and sighed before he went on, "It is not easy here. No...it is not easy. I came as an envoy of King Bor and expected to be met as a kinsman. For, as you know, our two peoples are related. That did not happen. Where once there was friendship and alliance, only suspicion lurks. Where once a strong ruler stood over a proud people, now..... " Khandr's voice broke off, and he spoke in a brusque, uneven tone. "Now, I do not know. I came to negotiate a treaty of marriage between our two tribes. For often, in the past, it has been the custom for our people to enter into such pacts. The marriage negotiations have gone nowhere. A pity perhaps. Yet,.....it is more than that. Much, much more. A curtain has gone down. A curtain of secrecy at court. I know not what is behind it. I only know I am afraid. Afraid and tired. Perhaps I am wrong. I hope that is so. But I have long sensed that there is something going on, perhaps something that will touch upon the fortunes of the Elves as well as the Borrim. Perhaps you already know and understand these things far better than I, for you are Elves while I am only a man. I only ask that you remember my humble words when you deal with the court. And, before the night is over, I ask you to tell us what is going on. For our hosts have not shared any of the news with us. We hear only rumors and speculation and fear and do not know what has happened in the North. My men too.....I would ask them to speak up. They remain silent out of respect for you and your people. Yet I am sure some of them have questions and, like myself, are concerned. If so, I would humbly ask that they be allowed to speak."

Khandr glanced over at Lachrander and the younger Elf. The latter looked to be barely more than a boy. Perhaps he had not been wise to speak so openly. It was not like him. Usually, he was so even tempered and circumspect. He pushed back this thought. Easy or not, these words must be said, and this might be the only chance he had to address the Elves without the men of court breathing down his back.

[Durelin]

Though she had not expected much from this man, Jord was still invariably disappointed. The only information he had about the Borrim could have been observed in five minutes from a hundred yards away. But who was the real fool: pathetic Brodda, or herself for expecting anything of worth out of him? It was an incredibly slow and painful process realizing that these beings were even more useless than orcs because they typically were softer. She did not remember ever having to belittle herself to this level. Living among them! Living as one!

Her body reacted to her spirit’s rage more intensely than she meant it to. The teeth clenched, the hands gripped the arms of the chair till their knuckles turned ghostly white. But Jord knew she could not kill this man, or any of them. Not yet, not unless it was absolutely necessary. She almost hoped it would be, soon…but she could not really wish for anything that might jeopardize her success, and more importantly her Master’s success. She wiped her body of any expression of emotion, cutting herself off from it as much as she could without forfeiting control of its muscles.

After all, there was one great benefit to being surrounding by such small-brained animals: they made excellent puppets. And to think for this one she did not even have to set a trap! He had taken the bait had been laid out for another, but he had fallen for it, as well. Jord’s only regret about that was the lack of sport. It seemed Uldor would have to suffice for such enjoyment…how sad. Though, she had not yet really gotten a look at those Borrim. Still… Anger boiled beneath a frosty surface for a moment until she forced the cold deeper.

“You are the most…beloved servant of your master, most trusted. Why should you not be considered second to what he might, regrettably, lose for himself?”

Brodda smiled, but before he could make any sort of answer he thought to be subtle or humourous or even mildly intelligent, Jord continued, “In the mean time, all you must do is continue to serve your noble master well. And I advise you go to him now.”

Using the word ‘advise’ kept it from being a direct order, and so the man complied promptly with her suggestion. He knew it would be difficult to explain to his master where he had been if he were gone too long, and it would have ruined a great deal for him if Uldor discovered he was even speaking to Jord. She knew that suspicion ran deep in men like Uldor, and with good reason.

When Brodda left her, it did not take long for restlessness to set in. She had no need to rest her body – the body; it was not hers – and her spirit had been restless since it had lost its previous body, the beautiful, powerful form she had crafted for herself, and which she could control fully, which she could leave and alter and recreate whenever she pleased. This mission would not only seize such a victory for her master, but also gain back her full strength and dignity. There would be no pause until it was complete. Jord left her chambers to try her next contact, and see if there was any reason for her to ever again have men-servants in addition to Morgoth’s slightly more convenient creations.