Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

mark12_30 · 10-14-2011, 12:58 PM

Beneath several minty-smelling quilts Mellondu slept deeply. His breathing was regular, and deep. Dried salt tracks whitened his face and his dark beard.

Marigold walked up the path towards her little house laden with herbs. She had walked far, but nothing had disturbed the lad; Jorje had seen to that. He thumped his tail on the floor at her as she entered the house, and Mellondu stirred. She added a handful of the fresh herbs to the kettle, hung the kettle over the fire, and bent down and brushed the hair from the blacksmith’s brow. “Sleep,” she whispered. “Be at peace.”

With a contented sigh, Jorje lay his head back down. Marigold smiled at him, and then returned her gaze to the blacksmith. His dreams were no longer of death, but neither were they of joy. She stood watch over him. Nearby, Taitheneb and Erebemlin waited; she smiled at them, and they faded from her sight, but they were near nevertheless.

mark12_30 · 10-14-2011, 01:15 PM

No one in the glade spoke.

Through the cold night, some stood, some sat by the water's edge. Several of the Rohirrim huddled together for warmth; some even slept. The elves stood like statues, their eyes gazing far to the north. The only moving thing was the mist, rising from the water and rising from the lips of men and elves.

When the stars had all faded and the eastern sky was shot through with gold, Raefindan stirred and stood; Mithrellas met his gaze, and Indil gave them each one of her little hands, and they walked to the water's edge and washed their tears off of their faces.

Slowly the Rohirrim joined them, washing and drinking. The mist caught the sunrise, and the glade was filled with soft golden light.

Far on the edge of the glade, the dark elf lay still. He had been forgotten. She watched him for a moment, and then turned toward Erebemlin. He was as cold as the night had been. But in Taitheneb she felt a glimmer of the dawn.

littlemanpoet · 11-27-2011, 12:49 PM

Jorje Tirril had much to do! The river woman had said so. The One-toes needed a pack leader and he was to be it. He had a long way to go but he knew how to scrounge up a meal where he needed to, and the river woman said he was allowed to sleep.

He sniffed his way back up the tilted land and through stony places where it was cold and windy with few scents on the wind. Then he scrabbled down past where the big snow had fallen (that was gone now and warmth had made it all turn wet) to where the one-toes were.

It took some yammering and calling before these silly over-sized dogs with the single toes and the wrong shaped noses understood what was needed from them. Jorje wished he was working with his own kind of dog - or at worst the fluffy stupid grass-eaters. These one toes, for all their length of nose, just weren't good dogs. Didn't they have any sniff sense? Well, some but not much. And the two-foots could ride them. No, grass eaters would not do.

Finally they got the sniff of it and allowed themselves to be hallooed down the tilted land. It was a long way around. They passed the walled burrow where many two-foots lived and kept going, following the big river, then kept the tilted land in sight to their right until they came to another river, the one the river woman said was the one to follow up into the tilted land. And there they were to stop. It took many sleeps to get there, but he got it done without losing a single one-toe.

It had been close one time when a group of one-toe riders had tried to herd his pack away, but the river woman must have helped because his one-toe pack had outrun them (sometimes it was good not to have riders on one-toes).

At last they came to the place, with lush warm grass for the one toes and little four-foots Jorje could catch and eat, and he sniffed on the wind the words of the river woman: "Good dog, Jorje Tirril, you are a very good dog! You have done well! Red-top is coming with all the others."

Red-top? Jorje was happy and waited eagerly.

mark12_30 · 11-03-2012, 11:25 AM

Marigold stood by her little fire and slowly stirred her pot of steeping herbs. Nearby Mellondo's breathing settled, peaceful and steady. She smiled. One by one she took the mint-scented quilts off of him, and folded them carefully, and set them aside, until there was only the green velvet coverlet beneath him. His fever was gone, and she knew that the cold would no longer harm him.

**************

Mellondu stirred, and resettled on the thick green moss.

Nearby a doe tested the wind, and turned to look at the man lying in the moss on the stream bank. She drew near, warily, and sniffed his black hair; here was no threat, and she walked past into the stream, scattering silver minnows as she drank.

littlemanpoet · 11-18-2012, 07:47 PM

The Elves and Raefindan took turns guiding the bound Tharonwé down the mountain slopes. The others negotiated the difficult path in pairs that had formed during their sojourn: Mithrellas and Indil, Aedegard and Argaleafa, Ravion and Mellonin, and last Liornung and Bellyn.

Whereas most pairs had a caregiver and receiver to varying degrees, Liornung and Bella had come through the harrowing adventure unscathed, in body if not entirely in soul. So it was that the travelers had by turns song, story, jest, or just good talk floating down from above and behind them from the last pair.

As they followed the stream, the cold and winter of the heights gave way to the warm scents and colors of early summer. At last they reached the foothills where neighings and raucous, hilarious barking greeted their ears. Around the next bend there were horses and one dog jumping excited from paw to paw.

"By Jorje, I think it's Jorje!" Roy laughed.

The dog's ears perked and his eyes found the red haired man, and he bounded toward him and jumped full on his chest. Roy fell back laughing, glad that Taitheneb held the prisoner.

"How is it that you brought these horses with you, Jorje?" he asked as he scratched his ears and got a tongue washing to rival any puppy.

"He was sent," said Mithrellas. "I see a woman near a river, smiling and stirring something warm and satisfying in a pot."

"That would be Marigold," said Erebemlin. "It is time for us to mount these steeds and be on our way."

mark12_30 · 06-01-2015, 08:20 PM

Homecomings followed by epilogue. (Bump)

piosenniel · 05-11-2020, 01:44 PM

This game thread will be moved to Elvenhome.

It can be brought back to play at the request of its players.

~*~ Pio

05-11-2020, 01:44 PM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	This game thread will be moved to Elvenhome. It can be brought back to play at the request of its players. ~*~ Pio __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

10-14-2011, 12:58 PM	#1
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Beneath several minty-smelling quilts Mellondu slept deeply. His breathing was regular, and deep. Dried salt tracks whitened his face and his dark beard. Marigold walked up the path towards her little house laden with herbs. She had walked far, but nothing had disturbed the lad; Jorje had seen to that. He thumped his tail on the floor at her as she entered the house, and Mellondu stirred. She added a handful of the fresh herbs to the kettle, hung the kettle over the fire, and bent down and brushed the hair from the blacksmith’s brow. “Sleep,” she whispered. “Be at peace.” With a contented sigh, Jorje lay his head back down. Marigold smiled at him, and then returned her gaze to the blacksmith. His dreams were no longer of death, but neither were they of joy. She stood watch over him. Nearby, Taitheneb and Erebemlin waited; she smiled at them, and they faded from her sight, but they were near nevertheless.

10-14-2011, 01:15 PM	#2
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	No one in the glade spoke. Through the cold night, some stood, some sat by the water's edge. Several of the Rohirrim huddled together for warmth; some even slept. The elves stood like statues, their eyes gazing far to the north. The only moving thing was the mist, rising from the water and rising from the lips of men and elves. When the stars had all faded and the eastern sky was shot through with gold, Raefindan stirred and stood; Mithrellas met his gaze, and Indil gave them each one of her little hands, and they walked to the water's edge and washed their tears off of their faces. Slowly the Rohirrim joined them, washing and drinking. The mist caught the sunrise, and the glade was filled with soft golden light. Far on the edge of the glade, the dark elf lay still. He had been forgotten. She watched him for a moment, and then turned toward Erebemlin. He was as cold as the night had been. But in Taitheneb she felt a glimmer of the dawn.

11-27-2011, 12:49 PM	#3
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Jorje Tirril had much to do! The river woman had said so. The One-toes needed a pack leader and he was to be it. He had a long way to go but he knew how to scrounge up a meal where he needed to, and the river woman said he was allowed to sleep. He sniffed his way back up the tilted land and through stony places where it was cold and windy with few scents on the wind. Then he scrabbled down past where the big snow had fallen (that was gone now and warmth had made it all turn wet) to where the one-toes were. It took some yammering and calling before these silly over-sized dogs with the single toes and the wrong shaped noses understood what was needed from them. Jorje wished he was working with his own kind of dog - or at worst the fluffy stupid grass-eaters. These one toes, for all their length of nose, just weren't good dogs. Didn't they have any sniff sense? Well, some but not much. And the two-foots could ride them. No, grass eaters would not do. Finally they got the sniff of it and allowed themselves to be hallooed down the tilted land. It was a long way around. They passed the walled burrow where many two-foots lived and kept going, following the big river, then kept the tilted land in sight to their right until they came to another river, the one the river woman said was the one to follow up into the tilted land. And there they were to stop. It took many sleeps to get there, but he got it done without losing a single one-toe. It had been close one time when a group of one-toe riders had tried to herd his pack away, but the river woman must have helped because his one-toe pack had outrun them (sometimes it was good not to have riders on one-toes). At last they came to the place, with lush warm grass for the one toes and little four-foots Jorje could catch and eat, and he sniffed on the wind the words of the river woman: "Good dog, Jorje Tirril, you are a very good dog! You have done well! Red-top is coming with all the others." Red-top? Jorje was happy and waited eagerly.

11-03-2012, 11:25 AM	#4
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Marigold stood by her little fire and slowly stirred her pot of steeping herbs. Nearby Mellondo's breathing settled, peaceful and steady. She smiled. One by one she took the mint-scented quilts off of him, and folded them carefully, and set them aside, until there was only the green velvet coverlet beneath him. His fever was gone, and she knew that the cold would no longer harm him. ************** Mellondu stirred, and resettled on the thick green moss. Nearby a doe tested the wind, and turned to look at the man lying in the moss on the stream bank. She drew near, warily, and sniffed his black hair; here was no threat, and she walked past into the stream, scattering silver minnows as she drank.

11-18-2012, 07:47 PM	#5
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	The Elves and Raefindan took turns guiding the bound Tharonwé down the mountain slopes. The others negotiated the difficult path in pairs that had formed during their sojourn: Mithrellas and Indil, Aedegard and Argaleafa, Ravion and Mellonin, and last Liornung and Bellyn. Whereas most pairs had a caregiver and receiver to varying degrees, Liornung and Bella had come through the harrowing adventure unscathed, in body if not entirely in soul. So it was that the travelers had by turns song, story, jest, or just good talk floating down from above and behind them from the last pair. As they followed the stream, the cold and winter of the heights gave way to the warm scents and colors of early summer. At last they reached the foothills where neighings and raucous, hilarious barking greeted their ears. Around the next bend there were horses and one dog jumping excited from paw to paw. "By Jorje, I think it's Jorje!" Roy laughed. The dog's ears perked and his eyes found the red haired man, and he bounded toward him and jumped full on his chest. Roy fell back laughing, glad that Taitheneb held the prisoner. "How is it that you brought these horses with you, Jorje?" he asked as he scratched his ears and got a tongue washing to rival any puppy. "He was sent," said Mithrellas. "I see a woman near a river, smiling and stirring something warm and satisfying in a pot." "That would be Marigold," said Erebemlin. "It is time for us to mount these steeds and be on our way."

06-01-2015, 08:20 PM	#6
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Homecomings followed by epilogue. (Bump)