Treachery of Men RPG

[littlemanpoet]

"Oh to be needed!" thought Ulfast ruefully.

'Well, brother, you’re not going that way. No. I need you yet.'

Uldor's words stung. It made Ulfast's blood boil. Who did he think he was? 'Heir apparent' was the answer, curse his hide!

Ulfast staggered up to his feet, testing his grazed arm. "My thanks, brother," he said offhandedly, as if saving his life was no great deed. "Had it come closer I might have had to break a sweat." Ulfast grinned so that the insult could be taken as a joke. Then he looked down at the beast that had almost been the end of him. "A fine beast! He will make a feast for many!" He turned back to Uldor. "Fail not to reward those who gave you the kill, my brother. And you!" he said, turning to Ulwarth. "Next time you act like my near death is a sideshow for you, I'll put a mark on you where you'll remember it!"

Lachrandir

These Ulfings had prowess, if little else. They would make good allies in the coming battle. "What think you, Tathren?" he asked his Elven aide.

"They are quick with their weapons. Let us hope they point always at our enemies."

"Indeed," Lachrandir remarked. Then he marked a disturbance coming their way from the direction of the village. "I wonder what nonsense this might be?"

One of the men at arms came racing up to the Ulfing brothers. "Lords! Two of the Borrim come with urgent word!"

"Bring them before us," Uldor said.

"Nay, lord, forgive me, but they seek Lord Lachrandir!"

Lachrandir raised a brow. "Bring them to me," he said. "Borrim messengers for me?" he said to Tathren. "What could they possibly want?"

[Folwren]

Ulwarth hadn’t viewed his brother’s near death as a sideshow. Not at all. He was insulted and stung, as he fully believed Ulfast wanted him to be.

“It seems you, at least, are already marked, and you’ll remember that for a long while yet,” Ulwarth answered.

Uldor rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. He stood up, wiping blood from his hands on his breeches. He glanced from Ulfast to Ulwarth, wondering how his youngest brother with so little brains could say something that sharp so quickly.

“Come, brothers,” he said quietly, “we should not bicker so, when one of us have been so near death.”

Ulwarth’s chin came up. He sent a flashing, angry glance at Ulfast before he wheeled his horse about and trotted away several yards.

It was at that moment that the man-at-arms came and announced the two Borrim. Uldor gave his permission to let them come and speak with Lachrandir and then turned to mount his horse again. His squire was standing there, holding the animal’s reins. Already, servants had come and trussed up the dead boar.

“Are you able to ride on?” he asked Ulfast as he gathered the reins in his hands. “As soon as lord Lachrandir has finished, we should continue the hunt.”

[littlemanpoet]

Ulfast righted himself and brushed himself off, smearing the boar's blood where it had spilled on his clothing. He watched the two messengers, a Borrim man and woman. The man was of negligible importance, Ulfast supposed, but the woman seemed familiar. He could not say how. Their message seemed urgent, but the Elf lord's face was unreadable as usual. Not even the Elf's servant gave much away. Had there been a look of suspicion given to he and his brothers as the two messengers walked by? Ulfast wondered if it had anything to do with Jord and their plans for Ulfast to become lord.

Confound Uldor! Especially that last little bit of false diplomacy, as if he had feelings of warmth for his siblings! What a fake. Did he think he was fooling either himself or Ulwarth? What nonsense. Or was he doing it for Lachrandir's sake? Ulfast did not believe it for a moment.

What was Jord up to while they hunted? He would make sure to find out when they returned with the kill.

[Lalaith]

Now that they stood in the presence of the great elf-lord, Embla did not know what to do: she felt small, grubby, ugly and foolish. She remembered Khandr’s feast, and how this tall, fair man had played a part in her humiliation.

Did he notice me then, and does he remember me now? But there was now only an echo in her of the old bitterness. She was no longer a second wife, a shadow and an afterthought. She had freedom, and she had Fastarr by her side. These thoughts made her feel bolder.

“My lord.” She glanced up at Lachrandir, and then at Fastarr. “I...I mean we....I beg leave to speak.” She blushed red-hot under the elf’s haughty gaze. Was her presence causing offence? How did elf-women speak to their men-folk? Were they subservient, like the Borrim, or did they look them in the eye, after the fashion of her own people? Should she have let Fastarr do the talking?

"I have seen things. Evil and treachery....wolves....blood....the Ulflings,” she stammered. “We are afraid and we wish to warn you and your people, that...that....”

The elf continued to stand and stare in silence; Embla floundered into incoherence. She turned to look at Fastarr, pleading with her eyes for some support, some way of explaining the danger that would sound convincing to the forbidding figure before them.

[Nogrod]

It was a nightmarish situation. The Ulfing lords were standing by and they'd need to assure the elves of their treachery. Fastarr would never have had the courage to open his mouth in such a company but Embla's silent plea made him take a step towards Lachrandir. He was nervously fiddling about his belt when he finally came forwards.

"My lord... your highness..." Fastarr had trouble addressing Lachrandir correctly and felt even more nervous after making two clumsy efforts at that.

"There is a great evil afoot. My lord Khandr, he believes he's dead before this evening falls - and there is this old man, Thorn, who told he has been taught by the Eldar to listen to the Song who told it to him. I saved the old man from attack not more than an hour ago..." Fastarr was going to and fro in his mind thinking how much he should speak about the Ulfing's right there as the Ulfing lords were listening to his words. Finally he decided to try and arouse the elf's interest so that they could speak in some privacy.

"And there was this dream Embla had, with a vampire amongst us working for the Bauglir himself..." He didn't dare to wink to the elf for them to go aside for a moment as it would have been outrageous for a plain retainer to make such an eyecontact with him but his eyes pleaded the elf to take him and Embla somewhere the Ulfing-ears would not hear them.

He glanced at Embla and found her almost shaking. She clearly realised the graveness of the situation for them also. If the elves did not take them seriously they would have to run for their lives from the wrath of those Ulfings who were listening to their plea right now. For surely Embla and Fastarr would be the next game of theirs then.