Treachery of Men RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Folwren · 05-10-2008, 09:21 PM

The boy-elf wept bitterly. Uldor had carried no conception of the relative youth of Tathren until this moment, as he knelt above his fallen master. He understood his strange emotions even less than he understood the language in which Tathren addressed him by eventually.

“I am not leaving him,” he finally told the men standing around. “I did not stay with him and he died. I will not leave him now.”

Uldor stepped forward, and opened his mouth, about to ask ‘Will your remaining with him change anything now?’, but respect for the dead and the obvious grief for him kept him quiet. Instead, he changed his words to, “Very well. Two of the servants will stay with you. We will return and send a wain to bear him back in.”

Without waiting for any sign or answer, Uldor strode away.

What did this mean? Who killed him? Why was he killed? This could ruin all of his plans. What could he do now? What word could he send back to Lord Caranthir? What to the Great Lord Morgoth?

His fist clenched viciously at his side. This was a nasty turn of events for him and he knew it very well indeed.

“Ulfast, lord Lachrandir has been killed,” Uldor snapped when he reached his horse. He jerked the reins out of his squire’s hands and mounted impatiently. “We must return home at once.”

“How was he killed?” Ulfast questioned.

“How the blazes am I to know?” Uldor snarled. He glared at his brother, before turning his horse about to face his attendants. Two of them he told to go and stay with Tathren and the fallen elf. The rest he informed abruptly that the hunt was over and they were returning to the settlement.

05-10-2008, 09:21 PM	#11
Folwren Messenger of Hope Join Date: Jun 2005 Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States. Posts: 5,076	The boy-elf wept bitterly. Uldor had carried no conception of the relative youth of Tathren until this moment, as he knelt above his fallen master. He understood his strange emotions even less than he understood the language in which Tathren addressed him by eventually. “I am not leaving him,” he finally told the men standing around. “I did not stay with him and he died. I will not leave him now.” Uldor stepped forward, and opened his mouth, about to ask ‘Will your remaining with him change anything now?’, but respect for the dead and the obvious grief for him kept him quiet. Instead, he changed his words to, “Very well. Two of the servants will stay with you. We will return and send a wain to bear him back in.” Without waiting for any sign or answer, Uldor strode away. What did this mean? Who killed him? Why was he killed? This could ruin all of his plans. What could he do now? What word could he send back to Lord Caranthir? What to the Great Lord Morgoth? His fist clenched viciously at his side. This was a nasty turn of events for him and he knew it very well indeed. “Ulfast, lord Lachrandir has been killed,” Uldor snapped when he reached his horse. He jerked the reins out of his squire’s hands and mounted impatiently. “We must return home at once.” “How was he killed?” Ulfast questioned. “How the blazes am I to know?” Uldor snarled. He glared at his brother, before turning his horse about to face his attendants. Two of them he told to go and stay with Tathren and the fallen elf. The rest he informed abruptly that the hunt was over and they were returning to the settlement.