All times are UTC - 5 hours [ DST ]




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 34 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2  Next
Author Message
PostPosted: Fri Feb 09, 2018 7:44 pm 

I have returned to my beautiful second home here now that my energy has returned from being unwell.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 6:10 pm
Posts: 252
Location: Drifting through the Space/Time Continuum
Medals: 3
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
3rd Year (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
5th of May, 2956 T.A.

The dawn of new morning in Rivendell found Arthalion waking from his guest room given to him by Master Elrond upon his return the night before. On the next day, he would turn thirty-eight, but his birthday coming up was only a reminder of how much he needed to do to be ready for what was to come. The dreams had come once more. Dreams of Sauron returning in force to cover all of Middle-earth in a second darkness. In it, Arthalion had seen the destruction of Minas Tirith, the burning of Lothlorien, the ravaging of Rivendell, and the Shire wiped out of existence. To him, these dreams were a warning he dare not ignore, and ever such moments fueled his desire to restore the northern realm of the Dunedain: Arnor - that which had been long ago established by Elendil, the Tall. Yet, for centuries, Arnor had been a land in ruin...razed by the Witch-King of Angmar, and it had not risen from the ashes since that time. Indeed, there were those among the Wise who said Arnor would not rise again while Sauron endured. He hoped they were wrong, because he felt it was his quest to restore the land in the war he saw to come.

Thus it was that the Steward of Arnor in exile rose up from his elvish bed to greet a new day; though his thoughts dwelled ever on the battles to come. He washed and attired himself in something other than his armor for change. Here, in Rivendell, such was rarely needed unless one was going out on patrol. His patrol had lasted a long seven years, and now it was time to rest...and plan. Today, even as he buckled on his sword over the rich deep blue tunic he had, and the leather pants he had with it, Arthalion sensed something...different. After finishing with belting on the sword...he actually closed his eyes to focus on the strange sensation...so powerful it could not be ignored. Today, something was going to happen, but what it was he could not grasp. Finally, Arthalion gave up trying to figure it out, and went out into the hall to make his way to the Hall of Fire.

The Hall of fire was a massive room made for entertaining Elrond's guests, serving meals, telling stories by the fire, and so forth. It was one of his favorite rooms in the Last Homely House. As he entered, the firelight caught his silver seven-stars Ranger pendant fastening his equally dark blue cloak. It was the only symbol he wore openly to indicate who he was. Rangers wore such pins, but only those of rank wore something other than steel or bronze pendants. Of course, his pendant had a single tree in the center. Only one other would have such an emblem, and his would be better than silver. The silver emblem declared to all who knew such things that Arthalion was the Steward of lost Arnor, and that despite the realm having been razed centuries ago...it was still something he claimed. His evergreen eyes were piercing and grim as he gazed around the Hall of Fire; for much was on the young Dunedain warrior's mind. Even so, he did not fail to smile briefly at one of the silvery-haired Elven women serving breakfast: Celewen. She smiled back brightly, and danced over to him as he strode over to his normal corner table.

"Ah, so it is true! The young wandering Ranger has returned to us! I trust your time out there was well spent, and did not overly trouble your spirit," Celewen greeted him even as she laid out a jug of pure apple juice and a plate of cheeses and meats for him to enjoy.

Arthalion, for his part, could only laugh as Celewen greeted him. He had been gone seven years, but her memory had not faded of what he liked, or where he had been off to. "I will not darken this hall with all that has touched my heart since being away from this fair house, Celewen, but I am whole and rejoice at returning to the hospitality of Master Elrond."

"You are always welcome here...to rest your cares," she answered, and nodded politely to him - though her smile had faded somewhat. Arthalion realized she had picked up on his mood, and that such could not be hidden as much as he wished. Her husband came over to him a moment later to join him for breakfast as had been his habit.

"Though seven years is a short time in the eyes of the Elves; still it is has been a moment since you have been in this hall, Arthalion. New grimness lies on you that was not there before. Is all well?" Gallind inquired as he poured himself a cup of the apple juice provided by his wife.

"Much is on my mind, Master Gallind. Though I know I should be celebrating my year of birth tomorrow; my mind is more on the darkness I have seen since last I was here. Eriador has much that is evil in it which must be dealt with soon, and the Shadow is no longer asleep as he once was...if ever he was," came the Steward's reply as he poured his own cup.

"Your thoughts are indeed dark, My Friend. Yet, what will come...will come. The Shadow has not been one of my cares for many centuries. Though the Enemy may have returned; I have no desire to return to battle," Gallind informed him, and Arthalion's mood grew more grim.

"I would invite you to stay and fight, Gallind. We all have need of those who have such light as you have," Arthalion said seriously, but sighed softly. The odds of him convincing the Elf to not fade into the West was about as bad as him facing the Witch-King. Gallind was tired...had been tired for some time now. He had been fighting the Shadow since the dawn of the First Age...with many fruitless victories, and even more costly defeats. There comes a time when the spirit cannot take such trouble anymore.

"Still, there is a change in the air, Arthalion," Gallind said after taking a long draught from his cup, and popping a couple of grapes into his mouth. "We had news this morning even before the dawn that there were people heading here from the outside world...indeed from various corners. One is even said to come from as far as Rohan, and another from the Shire...a Hobbit no less."

Arthalion looked puzzled by this news. It was rare for Rivendell to receive visitors other that Elves and Dunedain in the area. From time to time others would come to rest here, but to have various visitors all arriving around the same time in Elrond's valley was strange news indeed.

"I wonder what brings them," Arthalion thought aloud quietly.

"That is the question," Gallind agreed. "Strangely enough, Elrond did not seem overly surprised by them coming. It was almost as if he expected their arrival - which is strange, I suppose, and yet not. After all, Lord Elrond is gifted with foresight, and he may have seen them coming. Yet, I too, wonder what brings these travellers from afar at this hour."

It was a most intriguing puzzle, but one he hoped to find out more about. The strange sensation he had earlier grew in his mind, and he wondered if these new arrivals would bring with them the change he sensed coming. Time would tell, but Arthalion now began to eat his breakfast with his back to the wall so he could see all of the Hall of Fire. Guests came here to refresh themselves, and he was sure these would be no different. He would wait and see what came of them, and who they were. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but...it was still something he dared not ignore.

Gallind noticed how he was now paying attention to the hall, and smiled at his friend. "Yes, I too am curious," the Elf admitted, and ate with his friend.

_________________
Image

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."

~J.R.R. Tolkien


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Sat Feb 10, 2018 1:42 am 

Sorry to Kate and Dnarion, my remaining two active RP collaborators. My Muse has been missing. If you find it, sent it home.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Jan 19, 2018 11:32 pm
Posts: 197
Location: Highlands of Rhuadur
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Some weeks before, Cailiawen had left her job at the Forsaken when she overheard a rough traveller speak of an ill wind coming from the Ettenmoors. She felt it in side her that she should go there and find out what was stirring. It was afterall her heritage home. Few lived there now. Only hardy and resilient Hillmen who had renounced the darkness of old and embraced their Dunedain heritage albeit much mingled and diminished. She knew of three villages, and it was here she travelled to.

The first one she arrived at was deserted, with many of the huts burned to the ground. She could see smoke rising over the woods in the direction of the next ville, and she cautiously moved through the trees toward it. When she got there, she crouched and closed her eyes as the glimpse of the savage hillmen of the north pillaged. She looked again and saw someone who appeared to be the leader of this brigand mob. She fought back the memory of her village being sacked, and the horror she had witnessed. It was happening again before her. She grasped her knife but knew she could not match these brutal men alone. She hid until the screams and cries had died into the crackling sound of fires burning. She approached to find no one left alive.

It was early morning when Cailiawen had found where the hillmen had camped for the night. She knew she had one chance to do this, and with a silent gurgle, their watchman crumpled, his neck slit. She crept to the sleeping men, and seeing the leader, she plunged the watchman’s knife into his chest. The commotion caused the others to stir, and she wounded as many as she could with her sword before fleeing into the night. There were some who pursued, and though she was able to elude most of them, she ran headlong into one and knocked him over. He recovered enough to throw his knife into the darkness where she had fled, and Cailiawen felt it bite as it glanced off her right shoulder blade. She did not pause, and soon outran her few pursuers.

When daylight came, she was unsure where exactly she was. Looking at the hills and the trees, she guessed she was in east Rhuadur. She removed her cloak and tried to look at her shoulder and could see her torn tunic wet with blood. She could not treat herself very well and threw her cloak back on and stood. She did not get ten steps past the tree she had taken refuge under in the dark when arrows pointed at her from all around.

A fair face with dark hair and not armed with a bow stepped forward and stood before Cailiawen. He said,

“Few if any elf friends come to these lands from the north save evil. State your name and your purpose, and I, Eforian, may decide to spare your life.”

Cailiawen relaxed her grip on her knife hilt and raised her hands. She said,

“I am Cailiawen of Rhuadur.”

“Few if any hail from that land who are good. The ashes of Arnor of old have long since grown cold in Rhuadur”.

Eforian said, stepping around Cailiawen and taking her knife and sword. He looked at them and then her shoulder. He said,

“Blood. You are wounded. You have been fighting?”

“Yes, brigands sacking the last villes. I fought and killed several of them, but one of their knives found its mark. I got away and knew not where I ran in the dark until exhaustion overtook me here. This is the lands of Imladris, no?”

Cailiawen said, looking around at the trees. Eforian said,

“Yes. We guard for enemies. I cannot determine be you friend or foe, so you will be taken as prisoner to our Lord, and it will be his wisdom that will decide your fate at our hands.”

Suddenly, all went dark for Cailiawen as a hood was slipped over her head. With an elf holding each arm, she was escorted via secret ways into the realm of Elrond.

It was later in the morning when they arrived in Imladris, and the hood was removed from Cailiawen. There were many eyes on them as they came to the courtyard near the House of Elrond. Cailiawen stood on the stone tiles while Sindarin words exchanged between Eforian and a high guard. He kept looking at her as they talked. Cailiawen kept looking around, having never seen Rivendell before. The stories of old did not do it justice. She tried to relax but the two guards kept hold of her. When the long discussion finished, Eforian came to her and said,

“You will remain with us as a prisoner but will be regarded as a guest until such time our Lord decides your fate. You come at a strange time, Cailiawen of Rhuadur.”

She was escorted to a small room an elven maiden awaited to tend her wound. A small platter of fruits and vegetables was on the table, and some fresh clothes hung nearby. Though the door was bolted shut only to be opened by a guard with Sindarin words from the maiden or from orders from outside, Cailiawen sighed as she relaxed, removing her cloak. There seemed to be some advantages of being a prisoner in the house of Elrond.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Sat Feb 10, 2018 11:46 pm 

"Perhaps we make a better team than we thought..." ~Mar-Vell

Mentor
User avatar

Joined: Tue Dec 29, 2015 5:09 am
Posts: 2323
Location: Canada
Medals: 4
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
Most Dedicated (1) Most Helpful Member (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
It was much too early to be awake, let alone being on the road. The sun was not even up yet, the world still in darkness when the small group had left the warmth, safety, and comfort of the Prancing Pony in Bree. The Hobbit knew they were to leave early, but had not been expecting it to be this bad! Pulling his cloak tighter around himself in an attempt to fend off the cool air as he plodded along after the men. 

Isengar Took knew that some men weren't to be trusted, part of the reason why the Hobbits typically kept to themselves. Being as curious as he was, Isengar had probably had more encounters with the Big People than most of his clan. Now, as he followed the men to the elven home, his Hobbit nature was beginning to kick in. He was tired, hungry, cold, and longed for his own bed, a hot meal, and a warm fire to warm his feet by. Instead, he had been greeted only a few short hours after falling asleep with a pack, a few pieces of fruit, and the sound of men yelling to one another to remember this, that, and everything else. 

It had been a few days of this, walking along the old road for the majority of the day, stopping around noon for lunch, than again later in the evening for supper and some sleep. Not once did the Hobbit remove his cloak, either too tired, or too cold to be bothered. When news reached him that they would be arriving in Rivendell the following morning, Isengar had a hard time falling asleep, despite how tired he was. He was going to see elves! An elven home! Something so far from, and so different from the Shire he had grown up in! It was as though a switch had been flipped. Suddenly the Hobbit was beyond excited and ready to just keep going. He could picture the faces of the other Hobbits, shaking their heads at his 'Tookish-ness' as they would say. 

Morning couldn't have come fast enough, and the men whom Isengar had been travelling with were amused by the rush the Hobbit seemed to be in. Normally he would have begged for just a few more minutes of rest before starting the day's hike, but not today. Today their companion was rushing them! Prodding them to finish eating, to pack up faster, to get back on the road sooner. 

Arriving in Rivendell, the Hobbit couldn't quite take it all in. It was so much more than he had imagined. The sounds of elven voices reached Isengar's ears, and even though he didn't know what they were saying, it was still music to his ears!

_________________


Image

"Maybe Asterous's gender is attack helicopter?" ~ Stormwind
"Candy is to kids as Roleplay is to you" ~ Yue
"Birbs got so many roleplays because of the insatiable thirst for knowledge of all things!" ~ Ben


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Sun Feb 11, 2018 11:11 pm 
User avatar

Joined: Sat Oct 18, 2014 4:06 pm
Posts: 580
Location: Somewhere with my face in a book
Medals: 4
Dedicated Partner (1) Most Patient (1)
1st Year (1) Contest Winner (1)
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Arkala sat atop her horse, a stallion as dark as the night that surrounded them with deep, twinkling brown eyes that she swore held more warmth than the eyes of many men she had come across. She leaned down and gently stroked the neck of the tall horse, leaning her head against his and whispering something in her native tongue before sitting up straight. "Today we ride for Rivendell. It's time we returned," she spoke to no one in particular, or perhaps to the horse, one could not be sure.

She then spurred the horse forward with a click of her tongue as she leaned forward, riding faster than was strictly necessary. Morning would soon be upon them, though the darkness still lingered, and she wished to reach Rivendell by sunrise, so she rode with haste. This was how she preferred it, anyway, as she loved the freeing feeling of the wind in her hair.

They traveled through the dark hours of the early morning and into dawn. As the sun began to rise, the Elven city came into view. Arkala brought Aralome to a stop, taking a moment to take in the sight before her. The sun rose beyond Rivendell, making it almost seem as though it were glowing. Arkala smiled before clicking her tongue and urging the horse forward once more, this time keeping him at a more relaxed pace as they closed the remaining distance between themselves and the city.

When she arrived, she was met by a tall male Elf with dark hair. "Arkala, I see that you have deigned to grace us with your presence once again," the man greeted her. Arkala responded with a wry smile, "I see you haven't lost your sense of humor since last I saw you, Lindir," she replied with a smile, making it difficult to tell whether she was being serious or sarcastic.

"It's good to be back," she then added as she dismounted Aralome, pulling the grey hood of her cloak back as she led him towards the waiting Elf, freeing her long silver-blonde hair. She handed the reigns to another, who would take him to be fed and cared for. "It is good to have you back," Lindir spoke again, turning to walk with her as she walked past him.

"Lord Elrond anticipated my arrival, I presume?" she asked as they walked, to which he nodded. "It is as you say," he replied. "Well, I hope he will forgive me if I make a brief stop before greeting him. It has been a while since I've had a proper meal. I think I will visit the Hall of Fire." Lindir seemed to understand this, "I'm sure he will understand," he assured her.

"Until next time," she gave him a smile and a small nod of her head before she strode off down the hall, leaving him behind. She kept her pace as casual as she could bear to, as she was not in a hurry, nor did she wish to appear rushed. Still, even without trying, her long stride carried her quickly to her destination.

Upon reaching the hall, she took a quick look around, her eyes almost immediately falling on a man with curly raven locks and rather intense green eyes that would have been pretty had they not looked so grim. He was Dunedain, she thought. A Ranger. More than an ordinary Ranger, based on the emblem he wore. He appeared to be rather focused as he ate his breakfast, his green eyes scanning the hall as he did. He sat with Gallind, Celewen's husband. For the briefest of moments, she considered sitting elsewhere, not wanting to rudely interrupt their breakfast. Yet she felt drawn to him in some way she could not explain, as though their meeting was meant to happen, for some purpose she dared not guess.

She was curious, and her curiosity usually got the better of her. This was no exception, and before she knew it, her feet carried her across the room to where they sat. "Good morning," she greeted them with a gentle smile, gesturing to a nearby seat, "May I?" she asked, waiting a moment before taking a seat. "It has been a short while since last I saw you, Gallind. Seven years, as I recall," she greeted the Elf before turning her attention to the man sitting with him. "I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting. I am Arkala," she introduced herself with a friendly smile.

It was then that Celewen returned with a plate of cheeses, meats, and fruits for the younger Elf. "Celewen. Thank you. It's nice to see you again. I hope that all is well?" she inquired of the female Elf. It had indeed been nearly seven years since she had visited Rivendell and seen either of the two older Elves, or any of the others, for that matter. Seven years was indeed a short time in the eyes of an Elf, though less so for one so young as she. Much had happened in those seven years, short though they may have been. She had spent most of that time wandering Eriador, although not without purpose.

She had come to believe, in this time, that there was a darkness growing. She thought that it would be upon them sooner than they expected. She didn't wish to see this world fall to darkness, and while she did not know what she alone could do to prevent it, she wasn't keen on sitting back and allowing it to befall all others while she did nothing. She thought that this was, perhaps, not the common view of her kind, as many saw it as a problem that was not theirs, or something they did not wish to get involved in, a great number of them were preparing to leave this land. She, however, was not inclined to this path, nor would she choose it, even if all others did. She did hope that there was something she could do. Indeed, she felt that it was quite likely that she would have a role to play, although what role, she could not presently say. Whatever her purpose would be, she would gladly accept it.

Her mind told her that this man before her would also play a role. Perhaps even greater than her own, although she could not say this with any degree of certainty. For now, however, she thought it best to get to know him before mentally deciding for him what his fate might be. "You're the steward of Arnor?" she observed, her grey-blue eyes falling to the emblem before her gaze met his once more. That, she thought, could not be a coincidence.

_________________
Image
Thanks for the signature/avatar set, Fainy! <3
Check out my resume!
"The line between what brings us pain and what sustains us is far thinner than one imagines." - Klaus Mikaelson.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 11:33 pm 
User avatar

Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2018 2:34 pm
Posts: 91
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Lyiana had never been the type of person to leave a place so suddenly, especially when that place was like a home to her. That is what Bree had been to her, for despite its' rough outward appearance, the small town had its' charms. The people were interesting-albeit strange-for once you got to know them, they showed themselves to be reasonably honorable and full of laughter, although sometimes that laughter was usually directed at the authority figures and rich people in town. It was a good thing then that she wasn't bursting with money, and it was even better that she wasn't a guard or anything like that- for in her years of living there, she had found good, solid friendships and made good connections. So yes, it would have been a pain to live with them if she was those things, for it would make leaving the town that much more celebrated. But alas, she was not rich in money, but in memories and friendships, thereby making her move all the more painful.

A sigh escaped the half-elf's lips as she recalled these fond memories of her home, but she kept her dark eyes steady on the road ahead, forcing her mind out of its' state of self-pity. She could not allow herself to dwell on the past, but instead she had to keep her mind focused on the task at hand. She would travel on the East-West Road until she came to the glorious and hidden city of Rivendell; once she reached the city, she would seek out the Lord Elrond, and other wise elves to teach her the art of healing and perhaps even magic. But she was thinking too far ahead of herself.

Her goal for the day was to cross over The Last Bridge and then make a camp for the night; then she would only be one day away from reaching the elven city. After she filled her lungs with air, Lyiana picked up her pace and walked in relative silence, stopping only when absolutely necessary, and never straying too far from the main road. This was something that she had learned on her own accord and much to her dismay. Her right hand flexed in impulse as her memory played back the attack on her and her kinsmen as they traveled in the mountains near Fangorn Forest. She shook her head quickly and forced herself to observe her surroundings before her.
On either sides of her was lush greenery and abundant wildlife, while ahead lie the simple dirt road, wide enough for two carts to pass each other on the road....Lyiana paused for a moment as a faint noise of wood breaking, swords clashing, clamor then....nothing. Her delicate brows pulled together in concern before gripping her staff more firmly in her hand and taking off, running down the dirt road.

After about 30 minutes of pushing herself in a hard, fast run, Lyiana saw what she had feared, but would never have admitted to herself. Just before crossing The Last Bridge, a cart had been ambushed and overturned; all of the items that were inside the cart were strewn all over, as were it's occupants. Lyiana slowed her pace down to catch her breath as she approached the cart. Her eyes closed for a moment as she whispered a prayer of mourning for the men who lay in a thick pool of their own blood. Her eyes opened again suddenly as she heart the faint sound of a breath and it was coming from a dwarf who lay under one of the wheels.
"Good heavens!" Her voice was full of concern and hope for this survivor; with great strides, Lyiana was by the dwarf's side in no time, and she quickly pushed the wheel off of him and carefully slid him out of harms way.

"Sir. Sir?" Lyiana's voice was firm but caring as she began to inspect him and uncover his wounds. He had a few shallow cuts on his arms and hands, but the worst was the wound in his side, and it looked like he was loosing a lot of blood.
With an exhale, Lyiana quickly removed his tunic and vest to reveal a deep stab wound on his abdomen; upon further inspection, the sword appeared to have entered from his back.
All of her training instantly took over, and she put her staff down next to her as she pulled out clean strips of cloth and a few bottles of dried herbs as well as a bone needle and thread. She pressed the cloth on either side of him in an attempt to stop the blood flow, and thankfully within a few minutes, it had slowed to a dull drip, however, it began to flow fast again, even after applying kingsfoil to his wounds. It had not even reached 10 minutes before she knew that he was beyond her help.
She needed to get him to Rivendell, and fast.

There were no horses around, for they had either run off, or had been taken by the bandits who attacked these poor men; not knowing what else to do, Lyiana grabbed the dwarf by his waist and hauled him over her shoulder before beginning her jog down the East-West Road towards Rivendell.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Thu Feb 15, 2018 1:01 am 

I have returned

User avatar

Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2014 10:54 pm
Posts: 1846
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Thofred drifted in a field of grey, his mind dragging about like it was clad in stone. He could barely place together the thoughts to ask where he was, let alone why he was there. As he forced the drifting strings of him mind together, he began to recall something


It was a clear evening, him and the guards he travelled with had made good time. They had passed Bree the previous night, deciding to bypass the town in order to get to Rivendell even a moment quicker. They wanted to visit the renowned elven city before they stopped in The Shire, where they expected to become quite busy. Their wagon was loaded with the most exotic tobacco and spirits, the hobbit's love of them being well known. they wouldn't have time to visit the elves with such profit, so better to visit it before things got to busy. Besides, who knew? Maybe the elves would be interested in trade as well. It never hurt to ask


They had just passed Last Bridge when they were attacked. They heard the Orcs crashing through the trees to the south, and had positioned themselves in that direction. The men formed a semi circle around the cart, while Thofred stood upon it's seat to negate the height difference. But when the Orc's came crashing through the trees, the five failed to notice a lone Orc sneaking around the clearing. It was after the first thrust of combat that the lone attacker struck, stabbing Thofred through his back. With their rear compromised, the men panicked, and the rest of the Orcs fell upon them.


The memory of the attack rose Thofred's anger. They had robbed him, and far worse they had killed his men, his friends. He would not let those deaths go without vengeance. Pushing with fury fueled power, he rose from the grey. His eyes opened, the world was still a blur of pain and blood loss. However, he could tell he was moving, and the feel of shoulders beneath his back told him he was being carried. He tried to speak, but the words came out a pained whisper.

"Who, where..." He closed his mouth as his wound flared in pain, but pushed on again, this time the words came out clearly. "My men, where are they? Are they alive?" He asked, speaking in common. He had seen the Orcs cut them apart, but he held to hope. If just one of them made it, he wouldn't have to shoulder their deaths alone.

_________________
-If you'll look to the right you'll see the broken, sad, remains of my sanity.
And now if you would look to your left, RUTABAGAS!-


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Thu Feb 15, 2018 11:38 am 

I have returned to my beautiful second home here now that my energy has returned from being unwell.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 6:10 pm
Posts: 252
Location: Drifting through the Space/Time Continuum
Medals: 3
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
3rd Year (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
A few things seemed to happen shortly after starting his breakfast discussion with Master Gallind. First, another Elf came into the hall...one of the sentinels of Rivendell, and whispered to Arthalion's friend. Gallind's brows drew together momentarily as if considering the message he had received. He nodded to the sentinel, and the Elf bowed before withdrawing.

"It would appear more have arrived, and not all of it is good. Apparently two of them are even wounded. One is a woman of mixed heritage: Dunedain and Hillmen. The other is a Dwarf. I do not know what is going on out there, but the sentinel assured me that both incidents happened fairly close to Rivendell. This concerns me, Arthalion. Rarely do we have such activity so close to our borders. I shall go and see these new arrivals, and hope I can help them. The rest I will send here to see if they can refresh themselves," Gallind explained just as another person arrived at the table...this time a female Elf of some travel it seemed. She introduced herself as Arkala. The fact that she knew he was the Steward of Arnor was not overly impressive...most Elves and all Dunedain knew this fact about him, but her presence swept over him in such a way he could not explain. There was something in her keen glance, and the tone of her voice.

"I must tend to the matter I explained about, Arthalion. My pardon, Arkala, for leaving even as you have just arrived, but leave I must for a short time. It is good to have you back. Arthalion will have need of you," and with that cryptic response - the Elf stood, and bowed before leaving the hall.

Arthalion's attention, however, was solely focused on Arkala. "You would appear to be one of the Noldor, but there is a touch of something more to you. As for who I am; yes, I am Arthalion: Steward of the lost realm of Arnor, and I am honored to have you sit with me. I have recently returned to Rivendell after traveling Eriador for the last seven years - wandering and watching for problems. What I have seen does not set well with me, Arkala, and now news of two arriving in Rivendell wounded further disturbs me," he answered her...his voice quiet, but though there was a grimness to his tone - there was also a clear hint of curiosity as he gazed steadily back at the female Elf sitting across from him.

*****


Even as he did so; Master Gallind found Lord Glorfindel approaching with a full squad of Elves armed for battle. "Gallind, Lord Elrond would have you investigate the woman: Cailiawen. Her wound has been tended, and she is across the hall in her own room for the moment. I am off to escort another of the wounded as quickly as I can; for there was an attack of Orcs on a Dwarf caravan," the Elf-lord told him.

Gallind, for his part, merely bowed as the Elf-lord strode on with his companions out of the main hall, and then moved on to knock on Cailiawen's door...only opening it after receiving permission to enter.

"I trust you are feeling better, Cailiawen. I am Master Gallind...one of the many servants of Lord Elrond. Pray tell, what has brought you to Rivendell, and wounded no less," he began as he stood before the woman of mixed Dunedain/Hillmen blood.

*****


A young Elven lass noticed the Hobbit entering with some of the Dunedain it seemed, and it made her very curious. She had only seen one Hobbit since the arrival of Bilbo Baggins with Mithrandir and a company of Dwarves. That had been an exciting moment in her young life, and now...seeing another Hobbit made the Elf lass smile and dance over to him even as the Rangers moved on.

"A Hobbit!! Here in Rivendell!! What fun adventures have brought you to us? Oh, wait, my manners! I am Tathariel, and I welcome you to Imladris - that which you know as Rivendell. I trust you are hungry. I here Hobbits have all kinds of different meals to attend. The Hall of Fire awaits such as you, and I will gladly lead you there," she said excitedly to the newest Hobbit to arrive in Rivendell. Tathariel was arrayed in a bright green dress, and barely stood just over 5' - being only in her 17th summer, and not even close to being considered an adult by Elven standards.

*****


Up road Glorfindel on his splendid white horse along with six members of his company to the aid of a single woman approaching with a Dwarf she was carrying to the best of her ability. With the small company was a litter for the wounded Dwarf she was attempting to help, and two of his sentinels immediately dismounted to help her with her heavy burden.

"Be at peace," Glorfindel told the two new arrivals, and noticed the woman was at least Half-elven by her appearance. "Both of you are welcome in Rivendell, and your cares shall be made lighter," the Elf-lord continued even as his two companions helped the Dwarf to the litter with great care. "Those harmed fighting Orcs are never turned from aid here, and we shall swiftly lead you both back to Elrond's home. Even now he awaits you, and will tend the wounds given you, Master Dwarf," Glorfindel said to Thofred even as he handed the reins to the spare horse he had brought for the Half-elven woman. "Come, riding will be easier for you, and we can reach Elrond the faster. You will be welcome to refresh yourself in the Hall of Fire where breakfast awaits you," and with that he signaled his company to escort the two back home.

_________________
Image

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."

~J.R.R. Tolkien


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Thu Feb 15, 2018 2:11 pm 
User avatar

Joined: Sat Oct 18, 2014 4:06 pm
Posts: 580
Location: Somewhere with my face in a book
Medals: 4
Dedicated Partner (1) Most Patient (1)
1st Year (1) Contest Winner (1)
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Arkala caught only the end of Gallind's explanation of new arrivals. "Of course," Arkala replied with a gentle voice and a bow as Gallind left with cryptic words she had learned to expect of him. Elves were, to be certain, quite cryptic at times, a fact that was well known even among other races of Middle Earth, she had learned. She was, of course, not necessarily an exception to this rule. But she was young and perhaps at least a little more free with her words than those that had lived ten times or more her years.

She took a seat across from Arthalion, her blue-grey eyes observing him as he focused unbroken attention on her. She smiled gently, her eyes bright and clear as he spoke with a quiet grimness, despite the curiosity that gleamed in his eyes. She listened quietly to his words until he had finished before she would respond.

Her eyes twinkled with mirth that might, perhaps, seem strange, given the grimness with which he spoke. But she found him somewhat amusing--and interesting, to be sure--as he spoke to her so earnestly and with such an enduring gaze. She was not used to such things, or at least not in such a combination. She found it somewhat charming.

She chose to respond to each of his statements individually, taking her time to do so. "You are very perceptive, Arthalion," she replied with her soft, almost melodic voice. "I am indeed one of the Noldor, yet, from my father, Vanyarin blood also runs through my veins," she explained. Her father, like his mother before him, was as fair as any Vanyarin, though more than Vanyarin blood ran through his veins.

She continued, not focusing on herself for long, but instead turning the conversation towards the man in front of her. "I am pleased to have met you, Arthalion: Steward of the lost realm of Arnor," she replied with a bright but gentle smile. "I think it not chance that we should meet here, after seven years of wandering on both ours parts," she admitted, a hint of curiosity shining in her gaze. "I should think there is a reason for our meeting, just as there is a reason for the arrival of other guests this very morning. For what purpose, I cannot yet say, for I have never been inclined to foresight, nor would I dare to guess with so little information," she added, tilting her head ever-so-slightly as she examined him.

"There is indeed a darkness growing. I have felt it for some time. And I, too, have seen troubling things in my journey. That is why I have returned here now," she went on, agreeing with his assessment of the condition of Eriador. There was much to wonder over, and much to disturb those with enough sense to recognize it. Yet hope remained, so long as there remained those willing to fight for it. "But take heart, for the troubles that burden your heart are not for today, and the darkness I sense is not yet close at hand," she spoke with gentle encouragement. "The arrival of two injured is indeed troubling. Nevertheless, hope arrives with them, for they live to see another day. Something is beginning, and though I cannot speak to what, it is not chance that brings each of us here today," she added, smiling gently, finding that she wished to encourage him, for his troubles seemed great and ever-present.

"If I may ask, what is it that brings you back here after seven year?" she asked, curiosity evident in her gaze. Had he come here with a purpose, or had he simply felt as though it were time to return? She was quite curious about him, although she could not fully explain the reason why. She was also, admittedly, a little curious as to how they had both set out from Rivendell seven years ago and yet their paths had never crossed. They must have only just missed one another. It seemed unlikely that they had both been here at the same time and yet never once saw one another. That would have been very strange indeed. In any case, it was a little curious, and it was very much unlike her to ignore something of interest to her.

_________________
Image
Thanks for the signature/avatar set, Fainy! <3
Check out my resume!
"The line between what brings us pain and what sustains us is far thinner than one imagines." - Klaus Mikaelson.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Thu Feb 15, 2018 6:27 pm 

Sorry to Kate and Dnarion, my remaining two active RP collaborators. My Muse has been missing. If you find it, sent it home.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Jan 19, 2018 11:32 pm
Posts: 197
Location: Highlands of Rhuadur
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Cailiawen stood and gave the elf a slight curtsey. She looked at Master Gallind and said,

"I have come here not of my free will. I was detained by your guards when I wandered within the protected lands from the north, from Rhuadur. Why I was there was to see if rumours was true which I heard at the Forsaken Inn... that evil once again marches over my homeland. I fought Hillman riffians who had sacked the last villages of free peoples there. I was wounded, and will say that after the initial welcome to the lands, you have looked after me well. Your healer tended me, and I was able to clean up. This garment I was given does not suit my position, and I have to ask, am I a captive of the elves of Rivendell, and if not, will my sword and knives be returned to me?"

Master Gallind nodded and considerd her words, which she had many. She also said before he could reply,

"I hear also that the Steward of Arnor resides here? Does he know that Rhuadur has suffered much at the hands of the darkness?"

She turned slightly trying to get used to the silk Elven gown she now wore, wondering if Master Galind had the mind to allow her out of her room. She lowered her eyes and curtsied to him again, changing her tone.

"I understand why these precautions are taken. Know that I am Dunedain and will serve the heirs of the Arthedainian crown and lineage."

She looked up again at Master Galind.


Last edited by Deumeawyn on Fri Feb 16, 2018 7:26 am, edited 3 times in total.

Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Fri Feb 16, 2018 12:57 am 

"Perhaps we make a better team than we thought..." ~Mar-Vell

Mentor
User avatar

Joined: Tue Dec 29, 2015 5:09 am
Posts: 2323
Location: Canada
Medals: 4
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
Most Dedicated (1) Most Helpful Member (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Isengar was mesmerized by the many sights and sounds around him. Everything was so new and he wanted to explore and examine it all! He could already see the faces of his friends, and some of the older, more homebody Hobbit's faces when he told them about it all. As the Hobbit was detracted by each and every thing, he hadn't noticed when his travelling companions disappeared, clearly having a better idea as to where they were going than he did, as well as having an actual reason to be here other than simply being too curious for his own good.

Turning in circles trying to find his way back to where he had started, Isengar soon found himself standing before a young elf. She was taller than him, but that was nothing new, everyone outside of the Shire was, but was one of the younger ones running about. Smiling, Isengar laughed at her sudden outburst.

"I take it you don't see many Hobbits here." He laughed. There weren't too many adventures he could think of that would be considered anywhere near as amazing or adventurous as those she was probably use to, but the conversation (if it could be called that) had already changed directions before the Hobbit had to come up with something. 

"Nice to meet you Tathariel." He hoped he had said that right. "And you have certainly heard correctly!" The Hobbit confirmed, eagerly following the young elf as his stomach agreed with the earlier statement.  

Following Tathariel, Isengar remembered that he hadn't given her his name. 

"I'm Isengar Took, by the way." He introduced himself with a smile. His mother had always told him to be polite when meeting new people, though she had been thinking more of other Hobbits at the time of saying it.

_________________


Image

"Maybe Asterous's gender is attack helicopter?" ~ Stormwind
"Candy is to kids as Roleplay is to you" ~ Yue
"Birbs got so many roleplays because of the insatiable thirst for knowledge of all things!" ~ Ben


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Fri Feb 16, 2018 8:28 am 
User avatar

Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2018 2:34 pm
Posts: 91
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Lyiana hadn't had time to let her gaze wander in awe and respect at her beautiful surroundings of the beauty that surrounded Rivendell. It was ironic that she was here and not able to do just that, for it was something that she had always dreamed of doing; but alas, life doesn't always turn out the way you planned. Her eyes lifted with hope upon seeing the elf-lord and his two men approach on horseback. Perhaps this dwarf would turn out alright.
Once the elf-lords' men took the haggard looking dwarf, Lyiana dipped her head respectfully and graciously responded as she took the reigns in her hand.
"I thank you, my Lord, for your kindness and generosity; it is most welcomed after a long few days of hard traveling."
She smiled and mounted the horse bestowed upon her by the elf-lord before following after him and the wounded his men carried.
It was then, finally, that Lyiana was able to gaze upon the beauty of Rivendell, a beauty that only few are able to witness. She found herself tearing up, for the memories of her father and mother sharing stories of this place pushed itself to the forefront of her mind; with a breath, though she was able to calm herself, and indeed, forced herself to think upon other things.
"My good Lord, I came upon this dwarf and his...dead human companions just after having crossed The Last Bridge. His cart was overturned and he was left for dead, I believe, by what I assumed to be bandits. But as I inspected his wound, I found it to be made with a weapon forged in darkness."


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Fri Feb 16, 2018 3:26 pm 

I have returned

User avatar

Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2014 10:54 pm
Posts: 1846
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Thofred flickered into and out of consciousness as the half-elf carried him along the trail. After what felt like an eternity of rocking pain, the elven company came riding up the road. Elves held watch over most of the land about their domain, so it wasn’t surprising they were quickly. What was surprising is orcs being close to those borders as well. The orcs where either quick, lucky, or rather smart. And Thofred doubted the later.

“I thank you Elf-lord, but my cares are heavy.” Thofred said once he was laid upon the cot. “My men lay abandoned upon the road and their murderers run wild. Until those woes are amended, I cannot be at peace.” His thoughts faded for a moment as the cot was raised between the elves horses. As they rode towards Rivendell, Thofred muttered in his semi-consciousness.
“I can’t leave my men like that, I have to avenge them. I can’t leave them, they need me.” He continued to mummer this until they arrived at Rivendell.

_________________
-If you'll look to the right you'll see the broken, sad, remains of my sanity.
And now if you would look to your left, RUTABAGAS!-


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Fri Feb 16, 2018 9:17 pm 

I have returned to my beautiful second home here now that my energy has returned from being unwell.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 6:10 pm
Posts: 252
Location: Drifting through the Space/Time Continuum
Medals: 3
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
3rd Year (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Glorfindel could understand why the Dwarf would not be at peace anytime soon. He had felt that way a couple of times in his exceptional long life...being one of the Noldor Elves from the First Age. Thus, he did not argue with the Dwarf, but instead nodded to three of his company to go back and see to the dead men lost to the Orc raid. He knew already other sentinels were heading there to explore what had happened, but three more to help would not hurt. It would at least help the Dwarf be more at ease if he knew his companions were being seen to after the wicked ambush.

The sorrow of the Half-elven maiden did nothing to sooth the Elf-lord. It was clear in her expression that she had already experienced similar grief other than what she had come upon this evil morning. Glorfindel frowned in deep thought. He did not like the idea of Orcs being so close to Rivendell. It was not like them to be so bold, but something was driving them to do things out of the ordinary. For this, he almost wished to go forth and discover for himself what was going on. Yet, there was one in Rivendell who would be better suited to such a task. It was said Arthalion had returned to the valley after being gone for seven years while wandering Eriador in search of answers...ever vigilant against the Shadow. The Elf-lord applauded such vigilance, but there was a strange grimness to the Dunedain Steward which worried him. There was a dream which lay upon Arthalion - one which Glorfindel had briefly perceived, but did not agree with.

Still, these people had need of someone to help them, and Arthalion would have need of such people. Even if he did not agree with the Steward's dream - he would not hinder him. He turned to the Half-elven maiden now riding by his side, but his voice was loud enough to carry to the wounded mumbling Dwarf merchant.

"There is one in Rivendell who has recently returned. It may be that he can be of some aid to you in your time of need; for he has no love for the Shadow. Ever he fights against those who are the Shadow's servants, and he has need of those who can be of aid to him in his endeavors. When you are healed; I would suggest you seek him out in the Hall of Fire...for he is likely there. Certainly, he will at least listen to what you have to say," Glorfindel told the two new arrivals even as they arrived at the Last Homely House. There he dismounted, and two of his company carried the wounded Dwarf as swift as possible inside. Word had already been sent ahead to Lord Elrond. To the Half-elven maiden; Glorfindel continued. "You should refresh yourself. The Hall of Fire is to the left in the main hall. There food and refreshment will be waiting for you as guests to Lord Elrond. Your friend here will join you as soon as Lord Elrond is finished with him."

It was not long before Thofred found himself laid on a bed of such softness as had no description, and there peering down over him was tall Half-elven male robed in deep silver and blue with a laurel crown upon his brow. In his eyes was the agelessness of his people; though within was written the many things he had witnessed in his long life. With deft fingers; the mightiest of the Half-elves examined the wound after another Elf in attendance helped the Dwarf out of his armor.

"You are fortunate," Elrond told the Dwarf with grim nod. "The wound is not poisoned as some Orcs have done to their blades, and your wound will heal soon." Then with his warm hands over the open wound...Elrond muttered a phrase in the Quenya tongue. Some few minutes passed before the wound was sealed, and strength returned to the Dwarf merchant slowly. "You will not regain your full capacity for a day or two, but you will feel no more pain, and your wound shall trouble you no further. With that, he nodded politely to his patient, and left the room with only another Elf to remain in attendance should the Dwarf need anything.

*****


"Nay, we do not get many of your kin here, Isengar. Even so, you are most welcome here in Imladris. There will be food, drink, and song in plenty in the Hall of Fire...even for a Hobbit," Tathariel laughed lightly as she led the Hobbit to the Last Homely House. As they made there way there; she noticed Lord Glorfindel leading a small group...one of which was on a litter...a Dwarf by the looks of him. She frowned openly at the display of trouble. "It would seem you have come at troubled times, Isengar Took. Lord Glorfindel rarely goes out to help others anymore unless something is truly amiss. Though, fear not, we are quite safe here. Lord Elrond would never let anything happen to those in his valley. Still, I wonder what could have happened."

Her voice was no longer as bright, but held a tinge of sadness from seeing trouble entering her home. It was clear she was not use to seeing such problems - still being young for her people.

"Well, there is nothing for it," she finally said after a few moments of silence while leading the Hobbit inside. There, to the left lay the double silvery doors leading to the Hall of Fire, but she stopped as she noticed the Half-elven woman being left by Lord Glorfindel. She did not appear to be from Rivendell, and wondered if she had been coming to the valley when the Dwarf had been hurt. "Perhaps we should invite her to breakfast as well. It looks as if she has had a long journey," Tathariel suggested with a nod to the new arrival.

*****


Gallind noted the unhappiness of the woman he now had before him, and he couldn't say he wasn't surprised by her reaction. After all, she had been brought against her will to Rivendell - a place she likely avoided for the most part whe possible. Yet, her mention of the Steward of Arnor piqued Gallind's interest instantly; as did her vow to serve the line of Arthedain. Intrigued by her words; Gallind began to think back to his brief conversation with his friend, Arthalion before the woman he now faced had arrived with the rest. Even then he had told Arthalion that something was coming...a change he could not say.

"It is true the Steward has just recently returned to Rivendell, and is even now in the Hall of Fire having breakfast. He has been on a journey these past seven years looking into the darkness which has roamed over all of Eriador...even Rhudaur...for all things once of Arnor are his concern," Gallind explained to the woman before him. He studied her for several more heartbeats, and then bowed slightly to her - though not in a mocking fashion. "It will be as you have said. Your things will be returned to you, and something more appropriate than the silk gown which irritates you so. Then, I will personally take you to Arthalion, and you shall talk with him of what is in your heart. Already there are others who have sought him out this day, and more will do so before the day ends."

That said, Gallind left the woman and signaled the guard to give her back her items. "Make sure she has clothing befitting one who is to travel in dangerous times...more suited to her needs," he instructed, and then waited outside for her.

*****


It was clear from the beginning that Arkala had been looking into the deeds of the Shadow in Eriador; though it made him wonder how they had both been on the same journey for the same amount of time, and yet missed each other all seven years. The sheer possibility behind such was staggering, but Arthalion was curious to hear her side of things as she spoke of the growing darkness. As with Gallind, it was clear she had sensed there being a purpose for the arrival of those coming now to Rivendell...including herself. It was also clear to him that he intrigued her as much as he was intrigued by her...a combination he wondered about, but to which was overtaken by her own question of his wanderings.

"I have been out as most Rangers are to keep watch over the land, but my seven years has been more specifically spent on the state of things in ruined Arnor and the lands about. I trust not the darkness I have seen growing of late, and my heart tells me the Shadow is already on the move...though Sauron is not yet ready to put forth his might. I do not like the feeling this has; for there are signs of a prelude to war...a war I do not believe we are ready for. I am concerned about the defenses of Rohan and Gondor, not to mention those of other races such as Lothlorien, Erebor, and Dale. The Enemy is preparing...quietly, but he is doing so all the same. At last, I have returned here to rest for a bit, to think, and to celebrate my 39th day of birth. Yet, this news of two being wounded so close to Rivendell makes me even more concerned. For it means someone is growing bolder to make Orcs attack those so close," Arthalion explained gravely, and his breakfast was abandoned as he leaned back to gaze steadily at Arkala.

"It may be as you say...a purpose for those coming here...including yourself. Perhaps we should speak of such a purpose; for I have some idea of why you all have come...though I feel I must think on the matter more, and perhaps take counsel with Lord Elrond first. Yet, there are events in motion I do not think should be ignored, and you - Arkala - may be involved; for I sense you are not one to sit by and simply watch while the Shadow returns."

Was it really happening? Had these people come to Rivendell at this hour just to see him? Were they even now arriving for the purpose which he held in his heart; though they knew it not? What power was now at work to summon those who were now gathering in Rivendell from far away places? He was curious, and some part of him sent up a silent prayer to Varda: Queen of the Stars, and the one member of the Valar he loved most of all. Had SHE perhaps answered the secret desires in his heart...that which could not be hidden from HER? The idea of such made him actually smile just a bit, and he gazed at Arkala with almost an understanding smile now. If he was right, events were indeed set in motion he could not and would not ignore. He wondered what Lords Elrond and Glorfindel would say - for neither of them would be accepting of this desire to restore Arnor. For the prophecy given by Glorfindel when the Witch-King had been driven out clearly said Arnor would not rise again while Sauron endured.

Yet, the Wise had been wrong before.

The question became...were they wrong this time, or was it a fools mission...only a dream he had?

_________________
Image

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."

~J.R.R. Tolkien


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostThis post was deleted by Wolven on Sat Feb 17, 2018 5:54 pm.
Reason: Just don't.
PostPosted: Sat Feb 17, 2018 9:19 pm 
User avatar

Joined: Sat Oct 18, 2014 4:06 pm
Posts: 580
Location: Somewhere with my face in a book
Medals: 4
Dedicated Partner (1) Most Patient (1)
1st Year (1) Contest Winner (1)
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Arkala had certainly wondered the same thing. It was one thing for them to miss each other as they left Rivendell around the same time. It was another thing that they should both travel Eriador for seven years and not once happen upon one another. It was hardly an easy thing to attribute to chance, even if she believed in such a thing. She found it quite unlikely that they had met or even been in the same place at once and had not noticed one another, for she was rather distinctive in appearance, prone to garner attention, and his presence had drawn her from the moment she had entered the room, even without taking his appearance into account. She had come across many Rangers during her journey, so why not him? It was curious indeed, but wondering now was pointless, she thought, as it was unlikely that they would unearth such answers if they did not already have them.

She listened as he answered her question, speaking of his travel through Eriador. It was hardly surprising that he would have a specific interest in the ruined lands of Arnor, of those surrounding it. He spoke of darkness and a Shadow on the move, of a coming war, and his fear that they were ill-prepared. He was not wrong in any of this, as far as she could tell. She, too, felt the darkness, felt the Shadow on the move, the incipience of war. And she, too, recognized that their world was not prepared for such a war. They were weakened, by the aftereffects of the last war, and by the peace that had since fallen, lulling many into a false sense of safety, at least from the one that had once been feared. There was certainly much that could and should be done before the war was upon them.

So, it was almost his birthday? Well, she supposed that was as good a reason as any to return. As was the prospect of being able to rest and think. Although, it seemed that the news of those attacked was disturbing these prospects, at least for the moment. She could not blame him for finding this news disturbing, however. The idea that the enemy grew bolder, enough to attack so close to Rivendell, was quite troubling, to be certain. But for the present, she did not wish to dwell on such things. Not when there was much else that may be discussed.

A smile graced her face once more as he spoke again and she gave a small nod of her head. "You are, once more, quite perceptive, for it has never been in my nature to sit and watch. Indeed, I cannot judge anything more important than preventing the rise of the Shadow, or the spread of darkness across this land," she replied earnestly, her eyes filled with conviction, "If there is a role for me to play in what is to come, if I may serve such a purpose, I would do so gladly."

Was this, perhaps, the purpose Galadriel had spoken of when she had sent Arkala from Lothlorien? She could not yet say, but she began to believe, more and more, that this was indeed her purpose. That it was for this cause, for this time that she had been sent. And her journey until now had been preparing her for the role in which she may soon serve.

She found this prospect rather exciting. To have searched and waited, preparing for this time, and to finally be so close, was indeed joyous. She wished, of course, that it was not in such dark times that her purpose would be found, but if she could serve to bring some light into that darkness, then she would do so gladly, without hesitation.

"Indeed, I believe with growing certainty that this is the purpose for which I journeyed from Lothlorien nearly eight years ago now," she spoke up once more, her eyes focused on the man before her. It was not by happenstance that they had met here, now, when their paths must have come so close to crossing so many times before. Nor was it chance that drew her to him at such a time. No, there was a purpose, there was a reason they had met now.

"When you have sought your counsel and have thought on this purpose you speak of, I would surely like to hear it," she smiled, watching him, noting the way in which he now smiled back at her. It was a smile of understanding. She found that she looked forward to hearing what it was he spoke of, what he now thought on, and seemed to desire so. Indeed, she looked forward to learning what part she might play in what was to come. Whatever that part, she thought that she would gladly serve that purpose, that she would serve him, to whom she was drawn, for she thought that whatever his purpose, it would be a worthy one, and he would be worthy of following.

_________________
Image
Thanks for the signature/avatar set, Fainy! <3
Check out my resume!
"The line between what brings us pain and what sustains us is far thinner than one imagines." - Klaus Mikaelson.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Sun Feb 18, 2018 11:17 pm 

Joined: Wed Feb 14, 2018 4:03 pm
Posts: 17
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Aerior walked all the way from his home in the North, just to make a gathering. He thought to himself,
"If I get there and all of the people are gone, I'm going to fall down the waterfall of Elronds." Ashe soon approached the Eleven territory he soon was greeted by a an escort.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Sun Feb 18, 2018 11:45 pm 

Sorry to Kate and Dnarion, my remaining two active RP collaborators. My Muse has been missing. If you find it, sent it home.

User avatar

Joined: Fri Jan 19, 2018 11:32 pm
Posts: 197
Location: Highlands of Rhuadur
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Cailiawen considered the kindness she had been given by Gallind and he really didn't deserve her hardattitude. She took a breath as Gallind turned to go,

"Wait..."

Cailiawen walked over to the door as he paused and turned back. She looked upon his fair face and gave a slight smile. SHe said,

"Kind sir... it is rude of me to hold a grudge for being taken in by your border guards. I am sorry. I owe you, and the people of Rivendell much. You cared for my wound, you have fed me and gave me a comfortable place to res."

She looked at the flowing gown she wore and as her fingers played with it, she said,

"This attire I would like to wear while here this day, and I trust that my belongings are well cared for and will be ready for my need. I am just not used to wearing fine silken gowns. May we go. I would like to meet this I would like to meet this Arthalion, Steward of Arnor, but I will wait until he is free."

She walked out and accompanied Gallind toward where everyone was gathering. She asked him,

"This darkness that stretches its fingers over these lands... is it the Witch King of Old? Many stories have been told through the ages of the evil of Carn Dum."

She went quiet as she looked to the ground. She watched the hem of the gown sway with her movements, and she tried to remember the last time she was ever so formally dressed. Her initial embitterment about it had softened into actually loving the lightness of its feel. She took a deep breath as she knew these days of rest and comfort here would be shortlived.

When they arrived, it appeared Arthalion had finished his breakfast and was talking to someone. Cailiawen looked around at those who were gathering. It was true that a darkness was becoming stronger in these lands, and most likely on others as well. Cailiawen realised she could be a part of this greater effort to oppose it, instead of trying to be a lone wolf. She stepped back and stood by the doorway, watching and listening., and politely nodding to those who walked by.

Up in the smithy of Rivendall, a sword and two large knives were brought to the master smith. The elf said,

"These are blades of Westernesse. Well made but untended. Give them care, for I think our guest will wish them to be ready when they leave."

The master smith took the weapons and looekd hard at them. He said,

"Hard use they have had. I will take delight in working my trade into these blades of men."

The elf nodded and turned and left the craftsman to do his work.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Mon Feb 19, 2018 6:04 pm 

Joined: Wed Feb 14, 2018 4:03 pm
Posts: 17
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Aerior had finally arrived at the great city of Rivendell. Everywhere he looked, it was peaceful, and yet, he was being escorted by Elven warriors.

As he reached the gates of the great place, he gave his weapons over, as the guards showed some kindness but quickly let him on his way. He made his way to the great hall, noting the other graceful looking buildings around the place.

He entered the hall but since he was an idiot for not eating anything since his last break, he made his way to the feasting area. As he sat down with a bowl of lettuce and other healthy non-meat food, he noticed other people eating and talking too.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Tue Feb 20, 2018 6:32 pm 

"Perhaps we make a better team than we thought..." ~Mar-Vell

Mentor
User avatar

Joined: Tue Dec 29, 2015 5:09 am
Posts: 2323
Location: Canada
Medals: 4
1st Year (1) 2nd Year (1)
Most Dedicated (1) Most Helpful Member (1)
Blog: View Blog (2)

Offline
Isengar laughed. He knew Hobbits had the reputation for having large appetites despite their small size. It seemed that even with the lack of Hobbits visiting Rivendell, their reputation was still known. As Tathariel led him to this Hall of Fire, Isengar couldn’t help but imagine what it must be like with a name like that. All sorts of wild and fantastic images flashed through the Hobbit’s mind, all involving fire and likely danger to go along with it. Did elves have magic? Maybe that’s how they contained it? He would have to ask about that later, there was just so much he wanted to know!

It wasn’t long before Isengar’s attention was also drawn to the small group, and the litter bound individual. The frown on his guide’s face did nothing to quell the nervousness growing in his stomach, especially at her words.

“It’s like they say in the Shire. Leaving is just asking for trouble.” The Hobbit said, watching the group as they continued on their way.

On approaching the large silvery doors, Isengar’s wonder and awe returned, though not quite vanquishing the nervousness he still held onto. The Hobbit too noticed the woman, as well as the lack of recognition coming from his guide. Was this another visitor to the elven home?

“I don’t see why not.” Isengar answered. “The more the merrier!”

_________________


Image

"Maybe Asterous's gender is attack helicopter?" ~ Stormwind
"Candy is to kids as Roleplay is to you" ~ Yue
"Birbs got so many roleplays because of the insatiable thirst for knowledge of all things!" ~ Ben


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
PostPosted: Fri Feb 23, 2018 9:22 pm 
User avatar

Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2018 2:34 pm
Posts: 91
Blog: View Blog (0)

Offline
Even as Lyiana rode next to Glorfindel, she found herself being taken in by all of her surroundings. All of the stories she had heard from her friends and acquaintances about the Elves and Rivendell fell exceedingly short of their actual beauty and wonder. Everything seemed so new and alive, yet at the same time there was somber peace and learning in the air. Even the very wind that rustled the leaves filled her soul with both deep satisfaction and yearning for more. This very desire to learn was exactly why she had set off on her own journey to Rivendell. She wished to seek those much wiser and knowledgeable than herself in the hopes that they would teach her more about the art of healing and of magic.

Lyiana was struck back into the present, however, at the wise Elf's somber words. The Shadow was becoming ever more prevalent in the lives of ordinary, everyday people; indeed, it was infecting those who called themselves 'good' and eventually turning them against their own friends and families. An unwanted memory started to creep into the forefront of her mind, and try as she might to focus on the words of Glorfindel, she began to picture her mothers' demise.
The sun had just peaked over the mountains, and Lyiana was just rousing from her sleep after hearing a strange, chilling noise in the distance. As she opened her eyes, her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her out of their home then pushed her out to her own horse. Another ear-piercing sound erupted from the quiet of the morning, followed by crashing, swords clanging together and cries of pain. Lyianas' mother shouted something at her, but she couldn't hear it over the loud clamor that drew ever closer to them. With tears in her own eyes, Lyiana suddenly realized what was happening, and immediately recognized the instructions her mother was shouting at her. Flee now and do not turn back; Ride hard until Seles can no longer carry you, and when she cannot? Run.

"Mother..." Lyiana barely whispered as a tear fell down her fair cheek. Her chest rose quickly as she inhaled, forcing those memories back, and with the soft release of breath, she wiped the tear away. Although she did not want to reveal her sorrows to this kind Elf, she did not want to appear ungrateful or rude, so she turned her face to look upon him as she followed him after he dismounted.
"I thank you, my Lord, for your kindness and the hospitality with which I am receiving."
She dipped her head graciously as the Elf left, then picked up her staff as she followed his directions to the Hall of Fire, careful not to let her curiosity get the best of her and wander into places where she was not invited.

Soon, she found herself walking down a few steps into a beautiful courtyard, full of tables and-just as Glorfindel had said-ample food and drink. Lyiana glanced over as she saw a woman standing by the entrance, and she dipped her head and gave a small smile before continuing down to where the refreshments were and pouring herself a small glass of liquid. As she sipped the liquid, Lyiana walked over to a small table in the corner and sat, listening to the conversations around her.


Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on RedditShare on VKShare on TumblrShare on Google+Share on MySpace
Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 34 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2  Next

All times are UTC - 5 hours [ DST ]


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 10 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Powered by phpBB ® Forum Software © phpBB Group; All Material is the Express Property of Creative Freedom RPG and Its Members | DVGFX2 by: Matt

Protected by Copyscape Duplicate Content Penalty Protection