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Old 11-09-2002, 11:29 AM   #441
*Varda*
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Sting

***Blue Mountains***

Serin listened to Elladan's tale, and couldn't help but notice the remarkable similarity. Had it come to this, that even people within their own race couldn't get on with each other? If this couldn't work, what hope was there for friendship between races? What was the point in the Audience?

Elladan noticed Serin was deep in thought, and asked him what was wrong. Serin told Elladan of the happenings between the dwarves of Erebor and the Blue Mountains.

"I fear things will never work," muttered Serin. "I had high hopes for this Audience, but now, once we have arrived, there seems to be nothing but bickering and quarrels. Perhaps we should just go back to the way things were..." Serin felt downcast. The glimmer of hope had faded, and now all he could do was wait for the Audience and see how things might turn out.
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Old 11-09-2002, 01:59 PM   #442
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Sting

******The Shire******

Orlo listened to Serin silently, but after a while, determinedly opened his mouth.

"That's no way to talk, Serin! Call me foolish and young if you will, but I believe this Audience has a purpose, and we didn't travel all the way here just to start bickering. The Audience is here so we can stop bickering. I believe that you will find a way to resolve the Moria issue- both the Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Lonely Mountains can share. This way, you can combine your ideas and make Moria better than it was before! Be optimistic, Serin. This Audience will work." Orlo stepped back, a steely glint in his eye.
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Old 11-09-2002, 04:53 PM   #443
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Sting

***Blue Mountains***

Serin chided himself as he listened to the young hobbit speak. He couldn't let himself slip into negativity, how would the Blue Mountains stand a chance then? He had not come all this way for nothing.

"Of course, Orlo," Serin sighed. "I allowed my mood to get the better of me, thank you for correcting me." Orlo smiled, and they continued talking without argument, about what they would say at the Audience.
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Old 11-09-2002, 11:24 PM   #444
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Sting

*****Rivendell*****

Elladan looked at the hobbit for a moment, astonished and impressed.

“Wisdom in youth,” he said, a smile breaking over his face. Orlo was beginning to conclude that Elladan’s moods were no more serious than weather in spring, and no less susceptible to the effects of sudden small breezes. “It belongs most to those who bicker with nobody, does it not? And Elrohir and I are simply responding to what doesn’t matter, are we not?”

“They’re very insulting,” muttered Elrohir darkly. “I’ve sacrificed nobody.”

Well, this was a hopeless case, and there was no use in Elladan saying more to him, but all that was really required, he reflected optimistically, was that his brother remember his manners at the Audience. He turned back to Orlo.

“Consider this as a career,” he advised, before the conversation turned definitively back to the hopes and problems of dwarves and hobbits.
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Old 11-10-2002, 09:47 AM   #445
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Sting

***Blue Mountains***

Mikhelm glanced at Serin after his little outburst. So, the cheery nature had finally cracked, albeit only for a few seconds.

Well, the Audience might be a little more interesting than I first thought... Mikhelm said to himself, deep in thought.

However, the conversation changed soon after, and Mikhelm placed the events at the back of his mind, after noticing that Elrohir still held an angry expression on his face.
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Old 11-10-2002, 01:50 PM   #446
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Tolkien

<<<Eryn Lasgalen>>>>

Orodan & Nefros

"I think they assume we know more about them than we do" Said Orodan as he walked away from the Rivendell elves

"Quite confusing i didnt understand a word they meant" said Nefros as it was the first time he met either of them

"Perhaps i will go apologise, maybe they will explain how i offended them"

"you do that Nefros, but please dont make them anymore angry than they already are"

As the day grew longer Nefros made quite a few friends but Orodan had for the most part set and thought to himself only talking to Girion, and Stonehelm, for the time grew nearer for him to make that yes or no discision.
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Old 11-10-2002, 02:26 PM   #447
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Sting

******The Shire******

Consider this as a career.

Orlo glowed with pride as he heard Elladan's words. He felt pleased, and continued listening to the conversation.

The difference in Mikhelm's attitude was quite noticeable: Orlo could remember clearly that in the Prancing Pony, he had come out with a curious outburst about Elves, but now, he had travelled miles and miles with Elves without many disputes with them. "So this is what the Audience is about. Bringing different people together. It has certainly brought Mikhelm closer to Elves," thought Orlo.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Ringwraith Number Two ]
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Old 11-10-2002, 03:39 PM   #448
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Sting

***Blue Mountains***

Serin beamed with pleasure as he noticed all the changes that had taken place within the group. It was a rare occasion when you could see a group of elves, dwarves, and hobbits in a city of men, and getting along together perfectly.

There is hope for us all, he thought, and continued talking to the hobbits about what they wanted out of the Audience.

The hobbits made a few jokes and comments about greater supplies of pipeweed, after the shortages near the end of the War of the Ring, and there was much jest.

Serin could not help but feel that the world of trading was for him. After all he had seen and done, and the races he had met, he desired to spend more time with them, and part of him longed to get back home and tell his fellow dwarves the same.
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Old 11-10-2002, 03:58 PM   #449
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Sting

DALE – Jarl/Bram

It was the night before the general audience with King Elessar. Jarl was celebrating the successful meeting his group of petitioners had had with the King. He was well into his third mug of ale when Bram motioned to him from the doorway of the tavern. They walked through the courtyard and out onto the path which led to it from the main road. As they passed the tree marking the entry way to the courtyard, a man stepped out from the shadows.

Jarl stepped back from the stranger as he approached, and facing him, put his hand to the hilt of his sword. Bram put his hand on Jarl’s arm to stay him from drawing his weapon. ‘This is Captain Rira.’ he said, drawing the shadowy figure more into the light. ‘He piloted the Neekerbreeker down the Anduin for us. He and I have been speaking of ports he has visited, and I thought you might like to hear of his discoveries in the lands far south and east of Harad. Jarl relaxed his stance and waited for Rira to begin speaking.

The Captain spoke of lands fantastical to the imagination. Of great and ancient cities set in seas of sand. There were gems, beautiful gems of all colors and an abundance of precious metals. The craftsmen there were highly skilled, their wares lovely and exotic to the eye of such a man as he. Of especial interest to him were great centers of learning in the cities. In one of the largest there was a great, multi-storied Library filled with scrolls beyond numbering collected from many sources throughout this unexplored region. He spoke of the way the peoples there had organized their politics and their economy, of the sorts of guild system they had established. Jarl’s eyes lit up at the mention of the merchants’ and tradesmens’ guilds, and he questioned Rira further on this.

Bram watched as Jarl’s face reacted to the information from Rira. He could see the man begin to calculate what this might mean in terms of opportunity for Dale. He laughed, breaking the intensity of the exchange between the two men. ‘We need not talk all this through tonight.’ he told them. ‘I only wanted you to meet. I thought after the Audience tomorrow we might meet again and see if we would like to explore these new possibilities.’

Rira agreed to meet with them, and suggested they do so on the ship he and Bram had sailed into Minas Anor. It would afford them some privacy as they laid out their plans. Jarl said that he would bring his assistant, Garlin, and would also bring Girion. If they decided they were to head south, then the Prince would bring back word to his Father, the King, of their plans. Jarl paused for a moment, a slight frown on his face. ‘I wonder if he could be persuaded to come.’ he murmured to himself, thinking of how invaluable Gramil might prove if he could be persuaded to travel with them.

The two Dalesmen said their good-byes to Rira, saying they would see him in the early evening of the next day. Bram walked with Jarl back to the tavern, where the celebrations were still in full swing. ‘I’ll meet you early tomorrow morning and go to the Audience with you and Garlin and Girion. I’m thinking you should probably collect the Prince from his cups soon and apprise him of what the day holds for us tomorrow.’ He thought for a moment. ‘In fact why don’t you gather those two up now, and we’ll spend a quieter and more restful night on the ship.’

Jarl agreed and drew the two young men away from the party. They protested, but fell silent when he told them there was Dale’s business to be done first, and celebration after. A somewhat sober group, at least in thought if not in bearing, made its way quickly back to the dock and boarded the ship.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-10-2002, 05:42 PM   #450
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Sting

===========Blue Mountains===========

Theron Axehand had been silent and had kept pretty much to himself for most of the journey, and was no less so upon arriving in Minas Anor. He had looked in awe upon the White Tower will all of them, and enjoyed the compnay of elf, dwarf, hobbit, and now of man. But although the prospects of meeting the king were exciting, 'twas true, and the possibility of regaining Moria, even of reconciling the feuding bands of dwarves in his own home were his goals on this journey, they seemed more important than ever before now. They might be the last things Theron could accomplish.

Theron Axehand was dying.

He had attempted to hide it as well as he could, disguising his illness as symptoms of his age, which was considerable. He had ruled his people for many years, and he only hoped that he could accomplish somthing on this trip to the King's Audience by which his people might remember him.

And so he had watched, and listened, and perceived all that he could, trying to cobble the disparate fragments into a coherent picture which he could present to the King: a roadmap for their future. No matter how he tried, though, he could not force openness on the elders, nor secusion upon the young.

Moria had been his only hope for bringing his people into a separated harmony. The elders would appreciate the Moria Mithril to craft in the Blue Mountains workshops and mines. The younger ones would be able to effectively trade their crafts and those from the Blue Mountains with all the races of Middle Earth from Khazad-Dum, centrally located and strategically placed as near as any point to the center of the united Gondor/Arnor kingdom.

But the Dwarves of Erebor had a claim as well. What did they want Moria for? they had more than they could handle with their numbers in the Lonely Mountain! He did not know how the King Elessar would respond to their pleas, and they might actually have a well-founded claim. Theron thought back as much as he could remember of the stories and news that came back from Gimli and the others about their trek thru the mines. The fabled halls. The huge realm of Dwarrowdelf.

The huge realm of Dwarrowdelf...huge realm...hmmmm. Surely there was room enough in Dwarrowdelf for both groups to work and live together side-by-side. Perhaps, just perhaps, that was the point he needed. He was unable to sleep anyway because of the annoying pain of his illness, so at first light he arose and dressed quietly, and went in search of his brethren from the Lonely Mountain.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Thenamir ]
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Old 11-11-2002, 03:43 AM   #451
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Sting

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Clouds of white seabirds wheeled and turned in the harbor air, their raucous calls heralding the dawn of a new day. Jarl was up early, in the hour before the sun had risen, anxious for the day to begin and then be over. Bram had also awakened early and gone down into the city to speak with Captain Rira.

Today would be the day for the Audience with King Elessar. It would be for form, a day of pomp and show. All would be there in their finery, looking over all the other nations who had come, attempting to guess what the agenda of each was. Jarl no longer cared. Once they had made their requisite appearance, the Dalesmen would make their excuses and would meet back on the ship. Girion would sit in on their planning, and would then return to Dale in the company of the Lonely Mountain dwarves and the Elves of Mirkwood. King Brand would be made privy to to the plans to go South when the Prince returned.

The sun was two hours above the horizon, when Jarl went to wake both Girion and Garlin. Time to break their fast, put on their ceremonial finery, and head into the city - to the seventh level where Elessar would hold the audience.

Bleary eyed, they rose, each waving off the offers of solid food in favor of strong cups of tea thick with honey. They dressed in clothes of simple elegance. Tunics in dark hues of green and of blue topped their black breeches. Jarl's was much the same, a dark grey shirt and black pants, with black knee high boots of soft leather. Each wore a black cape, clasped at the throat with a small insignia of Dale - a dark blue enamelled 'D' on a field of silver.

When the trio was ready, Jarl, Girion, and Garlin, they made their winding way up through the city to the seventh tier. They were among the first ones to arrive, and they quickly made their way to a vantage point where they could watch the other delegates make their way up the levels and then enter the courtyard. Jarl supposed that once all were gathered in tha area of the Citadel, then all would go within to Merethrond, the Hall of Feasts.

Girion and Garlin gawked unashamedly at the sights. Just as they had entered into the seventh tier, the Place of the Fountain met their eyes, its bright and melodious waters a refreshing blend of sight and sound after the climb up the lamplit tunnel that ran due west to the Citadel, providing the only access to the seventh tier. Directly behind the Fountain, towering gracefully over it, stood the White Tree of Minas Anor, a descendant of Nimloth of Númenor. It had been planted there by the hand of King Elessar, himself, in place of the one which had withered in the courtyard before his ascent to the throne. Finally was their gaze caught and held by the splendor of the White Tower of Ecthelion, shining in the sun.

Jarl smiled at the two young men, remembering his first sight of this city, though it had been in more shadowed and kingless times. He nudged them into some sense of decorum as the first delegations began to arrive.

Isilmir, dressed in his rumpled robe, waved to him as he passed through the courtyard to the king's House. Jarl made his way to a table laden with fruits, small tidbits of food and all manner of drink. He poured a goblet of thin, watered wine for himself, and sipped it slowly. The sun stood high in the sky, and still the peoples flowed into the Citadel. He sighed and sat at ease in the shade of the Feast Hall. There were many delegates still to come - this could prove to be a long, long day.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-11-2002, 11:12 AM   #452
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*****Rivendell*****

All the companions who had traveled together from Rivendell walked up the roads of the city, meeting each other as they went. Looking around him, Elladan was suddenly startled by the size of a group that they made.

He was further startled to find that there, on the edge of it, were Orodan and Nefros. His brother had noticed already and was studiously and sulkily looking away. Nefros was watching them with a slightly anxious expression on his face. Elladan considered.

They were reaching the top of the hill, and the maginficent tower was just becoming visible ahead of them, when out of the corner of his eye, Elladan caught sight of someone sitting calmly outside one of the houses, conversing with a grim-looking Gondorian woman and watching the people pass.

Arwen? He nudged Elrohir slightly. It was certainly her, though her face had changed entirely. The restless distance that had characterized her expression for so long had disappeared, and there was a look on her face of calm joy that stopped him entirely.

The difference was real. She was sundered from them, truly and definitively. Elladan stood frozen and staring for a moment, half-fighting the realization, half-reminding himself that, after all, he had never seen her seem so happy. Elrohir stood as quiet and as still.

She called to them, and they moved away from the group (which had slowed its disorganized forward movement in confusion) and toward her.

They did not know what to say, and they were surprised to find the others coming closer as well, though maintaining a respectful distance. They had never seen her before, but it was clear that she was not an ordinary person. The Gondorian woman watched them, sharply and silently.

Orodan and Nefros were near the front of the crowd, having decided amongst themselve that she must be the Queen. Like most of the others, they were contriving a rather awkward species of group bow. Elrohir looked at them, suddenly abashed. Arwen laughed slightly, and he threw them a sudden smile that was almost an apology.

She inclined her head at them, with a smile. "It is good to see you," she said, in her clear voice, "all of you." But she looked at her brothers. "The Audience is soon, and I wished to see all the races on their road to peace. A hard road, but a worthy one. Are you not near to being late?"

"For what cause could we better be late?" asked somebody (nobody afterward was ever sure who).

She laughed again. "Certainly, I will see all of you after the Audience, and we will talk. Especially you, my brothers. But do not be late!"

She waved them off, and off they went.
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Old 11-11-2002, 01:18 PM   #453
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Elessar examined his image in a mirror and adjusted his mantle. An advisor had recommended that he wear the crown to this event; a recommendation which he ignored. The crown was heavy and did not fit well. It also tended to slip to one side if he did not mind it constantly. As he had during the private council sessions, he instead wore the Elendilmir bound to his brows.

The council sessions! His head still ached from the endless succession of complaints and claims. Dale sought trade opportunities with both Gondor as well as Harad and Nurn. That contingent would be satisfied with the contacts made during the meetings. Mirkwood sought little other than to be left alone as did Rivendell. The Shire had also sought little.

But Rhun presented problems. The representatives that nation had sent had little by way of a consensus concerning future relations. The sessions with the embassy from the East had begun and ended with distrust. While some had showed interest in trade, others seemed to foster continuing hostility towards the West.

Harad at least showed signs of a desire for improving relations. He had agreed to support the claim of the new King of Nurn and would aid the regimes of the South as they sought to quell civil unrest. Gondor would also facilitate trade with the South and help to establish safe routes between the kingdoms.

The issues raised by the Dwarves had been perhaps the most astonishing. Both the Blue Mountains and Erebor contingents had asked him to decide which had the best claim to Moria. He had informed them that matters of Dwarvish succession and hereditary claims were quite beyond the scope of his authority and that he would not presume to decide such issues. He offered instead to act as a mediator between the two groups; an offer he now regretted because the Dwarves had argued through the night and far into the morning about the merits of their claims before reaching the obvious conclusion that the retaking of Moria would require a cooperative effort between the kingdoms. He had declined to listen to their attempts to define "cooperative", instead suggesting that this subject would be a matter for future negotiation.

Arwen entered and advised that all was ready. They walked together to the grand ballroom. He fixed a smile upon his face and stepped forward as the Page announced, "The Lord Elessar Telcontar, King of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor..."
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Old 11-11-2002, 01:27 PM   #454
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Sting

And so ended the tale of the Audience with the King, and if it it has passed from the high and beautiful to darkness and ruin, so it was fated to be from the day this game began...

THE END

All participants and Mentors should proceed to the discussion thread to critique the game and provide their comments and suggestions. I hope that you all enjoyed yourselves!
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