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PostPosted: Sat Feb 24, 2018 11:05 am 

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

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Cailiawen lost herself in the wonders that was the last homely house of Rivendell. She had heard much of it in tales told, but the beauty of this place surpassed any imagination of it.

Cailiawen smiled and greeted people who entered the Hall of Fire, feeling strange but embracing her incognito status in wearing the elven gown. The halfling that came in seemed to have a carefree aire to him, and Cailiawen smiled. She had dealings with halflings before in Bree, and without a doubt they always seemed so innocent in this evil world.

When a woman walked by, Cailiawen looked up to her and their eyes met for but a moment. Cailiawen was taken aback by her features. She looked elven, but not so much as those here in Rivendell. The cares of the road seemed to weigh heavy on her, and Cailiawen watched her as she walked to gain refreshment. Cailiawen took a breath and started to walk after her. Gaining refreshment was something she could use and finding water with lemon zest was a pleasant surprise. Sipping it, Cailiawen looked over at Arthalion, then turned and saw the woman sit at a small table. Cailiawen was never good at socialising, but she considered this woman for a moment, and walked gracefully over to where she had sat. She nodded her head as she said,

“Mae govannen mellon. I know naught of anyone here, and so thought I would share this table with you if you allow it. I am Cailiawen, Lady of Rhuadur.”

She again gave the woman a nod and a smile before nervously looking around the room.


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PostPosted: Sat Feb 24, 2018 1:17 pm 

I have returned

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Thofred noticed the trio of elves heading back to care for his men's bodies, and his worries subsided somewhat. Now that his men were taken care of and himself in good hands, he became quite. He could hear the words of the Elf lord said, but their meaning was lost on him as his mind drifted down into sleep. When he became aware of his surroundings he was laid upon a bed that defied description, and above him stood a half-elf with a silver laurel. The pain in his side was gone and his mind was now clear, though his body still felt drained.


As the half-elf, who must be the lord of Rivendell Elrond, walked away Thofred raised himself from his bed. "There was a bag of my personal items in the cart. Could I have those returned to me?" Thofred said as Elrond left the room, then looking to the attendant once he had. "I think I would like a bath before I view your home. Could one be brought here?" The elf nodded to Thofred's question.


After the bath was brought up the elf left to give him some privacy. Examining the wound, Thofred found it was entirely healed, with only a faint scar to ever testify it had been there. As he bathed the words the Elf-lord had said on the way into Rivendel returned to him, and he now realized what they meant. Once he had finished a sentinel entered the room with Thofred's bag. Quickly pulling out clothing more suited to gracing the last homely home, Thofred left the room, his family's blue cloak flowing in his wake.

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And now if you would look to your left, RUTABAGAS!-


Last edited by Jack Spade on Sun Feb 25, 2018 1:58 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Feb 24, 2018 4:06 pm 

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

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No sooner had Thofred came out of the healing room did he find himself being approached by a tall man with dark hair and icy blue eyes. His raiment was of dark greys and greens with studded leather armor, and a massive bastard sword on his back. All of his clothing had clearly seen better days, but he was no less polite when he approached and bowed to the Dwarf.

"My condolences on the loss of your companions and goods, Friend Dwarf. I am Galfaroth, one of the Dunedain Rangers of the North. I heard you had been ambushed by Orcs very close to the borders of Rivendell. This concerns my Captain a great deal, and he would hear more of this incident that has cost you so dearly. You will find him in the Hall of Fire where others are already gathering, and most likely in his favorite corner. I can introduce you to him if you wish," the Ranger said a bit grimly, but it was clear he was doing his best to help someone harmed by the Shadow.

Indeed, newcomers could be seen gathering towards the double doors leading to the Hall of Fire. One of them was even a Hobbit. Galfaroth nodded towards the doors as if to encourage the Dwarf to go, and added, "If nothing else, there is breakfast and refreshment inside. We Rangers keep the Hall of Fire stocked with meats and the like."

Even as this was going on; Arthalion was sensing a gathering of forces within the Hall of Fire. Already there was Arkala who sat across from him, and who clearly had some of the same desires he had in dealing with the growing Shadow threat. Yet, these newcomers arriving in the hall now also drew his attention. One was a man clearly down on his luck of late, and who was staring at his vegetable salad with dismay. At second glance, Arthalion suddenly realized who had come to Rivendell: Aerior - a former Ranger that had been banished by his Captain for actions not well suited to the Rangers. Arthalion could not immediately recall the details, but he knew Aerior had been banished for some time now. His presence in Rivendell piqued the Steward's interest. He was not the only one, however, to draw Arthalion's attention. There was also a Half-elven woman that originally sat alone, but now had a woman approaching in an Elven gown. This, Arthalion noted, was likely the Dunedain/Hillman Gallind was escorting in. She seemed to walk as one more use to weapons and battle than to a dress. Gallind, who had escorted the woman in nodded to Arthalion as if to confirm his suspicions. This only made the Steward more curious as the woman joined the Half-elf for breakfast. Nor were they the only ones to show up. There also entering was the Hobbit Gallind had made mention of, and with him was a young Elf maiden showing him around. He had to smile as he noted how the enchantment of the Hall of Fire made the Hobbit react.

So many had come to Rivendell, and it appeared from several walks of life. What had brought so many to the Elven home on this particular day of all days? Was it as he had suspected? Had Varda put out the thought of what he planned to do - to draw all these people here with the chance to help him? Varda: Queen of the Valar - most beloved of those of Power by the Elves, and it was the one he revered the most. Every night he sent his thoughts to Her; for he sought Her guidance on how best to deal with Sauron's growing influence across Middle-earth. One day, he knew he must go to Lothlorien, and there speak directly to Queen Galadriel...for it was said she of all the Elves was closest to Varda.

He turned his attention back to Arkala. "Arkala, I believe you do have a role to play. Perhaps more than one, and your help against the Shadow would be more than welcome. When I have spoken to Lord Elrond; I will seek you out, but I do not believe we shall be alone in this," Arthalion said to his companion with a nod to those who had entered. "Until such time as Lord Elrond has summoned me; perhaps we should have Celewen invite our guests over. It may be we can divine their reasons for being here, and such may align with the purpose I have in my heart."

With that said, Arthalion made motion to Celewen, and she came over gracefully. "You would like me to invite them over, yes?" she said with a knowing smile.

"You see as clearly as your husband, Celewen. Yes, please invite them to my table, and make sure some of our meats are distributed to those who would have no love for vegetables alone," Arthalion said with a slight chuckle.

"It will be done as you wish, Mellon nin," Celewen answered, and went off to invite each in turn to Arthalion's table.

At first, she stopped with the Hobbit and the young Elven lass. "Kind Hobbit of the Shire, you are invited to have breakfast with Arthalion and his companion. He is curious as to your reason for coming to Rivendell, and would know more of such," Celewen invited with a motion of her right hand to Arthalion's table.

"Oooo...to be invited over by the Lord Steward!!!" Tathariel noted with awe. "I have never been invited to dine with such company! It is a rare thing for him to invite anyone over for a meal. He usually eats only with Lord Elrond and such, or alone. Though he has been gone for a few years from this place."

"Even so," Celewen said with a smile at Tathariel, "he would love to share breakfast with you. And you, Tathariel, my darling niece, should be helping to gather those last berries."

Tathariel instantly blushed at her Aunt, and the laughed and smiled. "Of course. Besides, I have not yet finished my dancing today!" Then, she turned, and placed a swift kiss on Isengar's cheek before skipping out...once more the carefree maiden.

Next, the Elven waitress made her way over to the Dunedain looking in such rough condition. "Sir, the Steward has invited you over for breakfast at his table...which will include something better than what you currently have in front of you." With a slight bow to Aerior; Celewen nodded over to Arthalion's table and made her way over to the next two.

At this table sat two women...one Half-elven by her looks, and the other of mixed heritage...though slightly hidden from most by her Elven gown. Such was not hidden from one such as Celewen; whose husband was a lore master of some renown.

"Ladies, Arthalion and his companion would be pleased if you would join them for breakfast. He is very curious as to your arrival in Rivendell, and would know more of the new arrivals so suddenly come to Elrond's hidden valley. Will you attend him? It may be his path is one you both should travel," suggested Celewen to the two women, and then made her way off to find some more meats and cheeses for Arthalion's table.

All the while, Arthalion wondered what was happening, and was his hope now closer to being fulfilled. He still had not yet seen the Dwarf mentioned, but then it had been reported he was wounded, and was likely being tended to by Elrond. The Steward had no doubt he would be joining them soon in the Hall of Fire.

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PostPosted: Sun Feb 25, 2018 12:33 am 

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Aerior looked at his food then at Stewards table. He nodded to himself, and slowly crept up from his small but elegant looking table. He then began to walk over to the Steward, but of course, having no reason to go any faster, he walked slowly until he arrived at the table. He looked at the mans companion, but without a word, he plopped himself down, and began to feast upon the meats that were provided. He ate fast, for there seemed an endless supply of food, or so he thought. Still, if he was invited to the Stewards table, he should act with manners.

"So, whose the Ranger?" He asked, his mouthful of meaty foods. While waiting for an answer he got up from his seat t go look around fora quick bit, but also, to find a place to go to the bathroom at.

He saw an eleven musician, and he made his way towards her. He asked,
"My lady, where is the area for relieving myself?" After she pointed into another building, he quickly made business, and went back to his seat at the table.

He sat down, waiting peacefully, noticing that it had only been a couple of minutes. He thought of his home up North, but continued to wait for a response.


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View Likes PostPosted: Sun Feb 25, 2018 8:28 pm 

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

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Before any sort of invitations could be made, Isengar found himself and his guide approached by another. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but being invited to the Steward’s table wasn’t it. As he was addressed, Isengar clasped his hands behind his back and smiled, making use of his manners and appreciating the hospitality he was receiving, as well as what he had received so far.

To be fair, he wasn’t all that sure as to why he was here. He had no business with the elves, no reason to be here other than sheer curiosity. But would Arthalion accept that? Or was he looking for a more definite answer. Isengar hoped it wasn’t the latter as he had none to give.

The Hobbit glanced between the table he had been motioned to and Tathariel who seemed to be quite excited over this turn of events. From eating alone with the young elf, to be asked to join the others of much higher standing, it was definitely an experience.

“Why thank you, it would be an honour.” Isengar answered before hearing what Tathariel had to say in the matter. So this was a rarity...Isengar didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, honoured, overjoyed, excited beyond compare. On the other, nervous, even a little frightened. He had learned that Hobbits weren’t often guests here, and now this. This sure was shaping to be quite a day.

Yet another surprise awaited the Hobbit when Tathariel kissed his cheek before skipping off. An expression of mild shock covered his face, his right hand raising to lightly touch the spot before he mentally shook himself. He had been invited to eat with the Steward, he needed to focus and have his head clear. There was no going back now.

Approaching the table, Isengar nervously addressed the Steward before taking a seat.

“Mr. Arthalion, sir...I uh...thank you for inviting me to join you. It’s not everyday one gets to be in the company of one such as yourself.” He hoped he hadn’t made a fool of himself. Isengar, like most Hobbits, knew very little of the affairs and people outside of the Shire, but basing his information off of the reaction his guide had given, he had a feeling this was someone of importance.

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PostPosted: Sun Mar 04, 2018 4:36 pm 
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Arkala, too, watched as the guests entered, curious, as Arthalion was about the sudden influx of visitors from various places, various races, various walks of life. A man who didn't seem rather very fond of her salad, a woman who now joined a Half-elven woman for breakfast, and even a Hobbit! A rather enchanted Hobbit, at that, it seemed. It was curious indeed, although Arkala thought it not coincidence. If their purpose would be to serve this cause that Arthalion spoke of, she could not say, but a purpose there was indeed. Of that, she was certain.

It was almost as interesting to watch Arthalion as he watched the guests curiously, obviously having a great deal on his mind, wondering if they had been sent here now for a purpose, for the purpose he held in his heart. Soon his attention returned to her, telling her that he thought she had a role to play, maybe more than one, in whatever was to come. He welcomed he help in this struggle against the Shadow. "I am grateful for your words, Arthalion. I will await your words, after you have spoken with Lord Elrond," she replied with a soft smile. "I believe you may be correct. It would seem as though each of those had come here with a purpose. While their purposes may have been their own, perhaps it was an unknown purpose, not of their own making, that truly guided them here, to this place at this hour," she spoke gently, and thoughtfully.

"Indeed, if this is true, it would seem wise to invite them over and to speak with them," she gave a small nod, although she knew that he certainly did not need her opinion nor her permission to do so. Nevertheless, her opinion was given, and Celewen was summoned. The Elven woman knew what it was that Arthalion had called her over for and after confirming that he wished to invite the other guests to join him, and asking her to give meat to those with no love of vegetables alone, the woman left to do as he asked.

The first to join them was the man, Aerior. He sat down without a word, either of greeting or of introduction, enjoying the meats presented. When at last he spoke, his mouth was full of meat. Nevertheless, Arkala greeted him graciously, although she had not an answer to his question, as she was unsure to whom he was referring. "I am Arkala, daughter of Arasil of Lothlorien," she introduced herself with a slight bow of her head, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Next came the Hobbit from the Shire, who seemed to have a great deal more manners, to be certain. He nervously addressed Arthalion before he took his seat, and she couldn't help but smile at the display. "Greetings, my dear Hobbit," she greeted him with a gentle, friendly smile as she gestured for him to sit. "You've no reason to fear, nor to be nervous. Come, sit, enjoy good food and good company, and rest your tired feet," she spoke with a soft, almost melodic voice. She hoped that her words would ease his heart and mind, and that he would be comfortable to dine with them. For she knew that it was not Arthalion's purpose to make the guests nervous with his invitation, but to know them and their purpose. She hoped that it was not presumptuous of her to speak in such a manner when it was neither her table nor her invitation, for such was not her purpose. Rather, she wished to make the Hobbit feel at home in their company.

There remained more invitations to be either accepted or rejected, although she hoped that it was not the latter. While it was not her table, she would still greet each of them as they came, believing that it would be important to make their acquaintance.

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PostPosted: Sun Mar 04, 2018 10:40 pm 
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"Well met, Lady Cailiawen. It is my pleasure to have you share this table with me, for I too know no one. I travelled alone on the East-West Road until I came across a cart that had been looted and overturned..."

The recent events of her travels caused her voice to fade until she fell silent in thought; the images were too startling for her to fully recall, or to pass on to someone else. Of course, she would never burden anyone with troublesome thoughts such as those that were now laden in her mind, not even to a great warrior-who no doubt has seen a great deal of trouble. But alas, to her surprise, a beautiful Elven woman approached their table and requested their audience with someone....Arthalion.
But why would he wish to know of their arrival? Lyiana wondered hesitantly as her eyes shifted to find the man in question.
As she laid eyes on him, Lyiana could tell that he was different. There was a noble, almost royal air about him, and for a moment, she was swept away by an idea. Perhaps this man could help her find her father....
Not a moment passed before Lyiana dipped her head to the tall Elven maiden and gave her answer as she stood.
"I will attend to this man, Arthalion and his companions, my Lady. For I believe in my heart that walking with him with aid me in my desire to seek out my father."
As she stood up, she gripped her staff and turned to the Lady Cailiawen, hoping that her new friend-she hoped this much at least-would accompany her to their destiny.


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PostPosted: Mon Mar 05, 2018 3:20 am 

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Thofred stopped his exit from the healing room when the large man with the larger sword came to greet him. Thofred was slightly surprised when the warrior bowed to him, but one would be hard pressed to catch that. Thofred quickly bowed, his face echoing the grim look on the rangers.
"I'll be glad to meet your captain, please lead the way." Thofred folded his arms behind his back to hide his fidgeting fingers, and followed ranger into the hall. Whoever this captain man was, he knew Thofred was here, and he commanded a good deal of respect. A man like that, could be a valuable friend. Entering the hall, Thofred quickly spotted the growing group sitting at one of the tables. And at its center, the man in question. Learning to read a room and knowing who was in charge of it was one of Thofred's earliest lessons, and everyone in the room was looking at this man. He walked over to the table, deciding to compliment the food the man's men had provided.
"I sight for sore eyes this is. It's been far too long since I've had a full meal." Stopping just before sitting down at the table, he bowed to the captain. "My name is Thofred Bluecloak, I am at your service." He then sat himself at the table, and realizing just now hungry he was, began to eat the food that had been placed on the table. As he ate he took note of the others sitting at the table. The half-elf who had saved him, he'd need to thank her personally for that, an elf, a second ranger of more ware, a human lady, and a hobbit. It was a rather broad group, what the captain had asked them all here for, Thofred wondered.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 07, 2018 1:00 am 

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

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Cailiawen listened to the woman she had sat with, and though she did not give her name, Cailiawen listened intently to what she said about a looted cart on the East West Road. So the Hillman bandits come even farther south now, threatening the main road … Cailiawen saw the approach of the woman who kindly invited them both to join Arthalion for breakfast. Cailiawen have her a nod of assent.

Arthalion, that was the name of the Steward of Arnor. Yes, she would attend to this man, for she had questions… many questions of him. His curiosity as to how and why she came to be in Rivendell will be rewarded, though she would most likely choose her timing to when he is not surrounded by so many people of the lands. Cailiawen’s heart was not settled on a path, though she had vowed to hold allegiance to the Dunedain. The traces of Dunedain blood mingled throughout her line from the days of the last Dunedain prince of Rhuadur is not written in the records of elves or men. Any trace of early Rhuadurian records were destroyed when the Library of Fornost was sacked and burned by the armies of the Witch King nearly a millennia before. But the stories were told from generation to generation, and Cailiawen held to her heritage.

Cailiawen arose with the taller half elven woman she had sat with and said,

“I too will accept this generous offer I will hear what he has to say, and will see what he wishes to do.”

Following the woman to the table where others were gathering. Cailiawen heard the last words spoken by the hungry dwarf and tapped the woman she was following and pointed where she was going to sit. Cailiawen rounded the end of the table to find a place to sit across from the steward Arthalion. Maybe she was out of place to be so bold, but she wanted to sit close to him to hear his words and see his face. Did the tales told at the inns do this man justice, she would find out. Before she sat, She lowered her eyes when he looked up at her, and she curtsied slightly before looking again to him. Their eyes met and read each other even as Cailiawen said,

“I am Cailiawen of Rhuadur, Arnor of old. I should consider this an honour to meet you Arthalion.”

She again lowered her eyes and curtsied, and sat down at the table. She looked over and saw another elven woman looking back She gave a nod and briefly looked at the others. All but the halfling and dwarf were taller then she. Her olive-coloured skin did make her stand out as one of the hill folk, and she could not help feeling awkward, especially dressed in such a fine silken gown the elves had lent her. She smiled and looked over to where the food was. She was quite hungry.


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 10:55 pm 

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Aerior smiled, and finished his meat before speaking. He asked, as if it was a joke,
"You and the steward together?" He motioned his hands like they were together, and then started to eat again. He then questioned the steward, after he swallowed his meat,
"Who are you in place of the one they call Strider?" He then smiled and chuckled to himself, thinking of what kind of smart answer he was going to get. He grabbed some green food, showing his polite manners to Arkala, whom he seemed to like a bit. He asked, another question, this time with green food in his mouth.
"So, Arkala, what makes you come to this gathering? Or better yet, how long have you know Arathailon?" He then proceeded to walk around the table noting all the different races gathered. He walked to the Hobbit and asked,
"Who might you be?" He then noticed the woman who was gathering everyone and asked,
"Who are you, my lady?" He then noticed the Half-elf, waiting patiently and quietly somewhat. He walked a little over to her and asked,
"So what brings a Half-Elf to a gathering?" He then noticed how secluded the area that they were sitting was.


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PostPosted: Sat Mar 17, 2018 4:01 pm 

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

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"You are most welcome here at my table, Isengar. A Hobbit of the Shire seen in Imladris is nothing to simply pass off. Such things tend to make people curious. I, for one, certainly would love to know what brings you here to a place so far from your comfortable Hobbit hole - though if I recall correctly; the Tooks do love to travel and explore from time to time," Arthalion said with an inviting smile. "But, perhaps the time for tales can wait until all have come; for as you can see...even now, more arrive," the Steward added with a nod to those approaching. He was quite grateful that Arkala was so kind to attempt at putting Isengar at ease.

"Aww, and here are two more. Be welcome at my table, Ladies," Arthalion greeted the two women as they came over. The Half-elven one did not introduce herself immediately, but the other he knew - though she gave her name all the same. She was Cailiawen of Rhudaur. Rumor had it that she was a decendent of the line of Isildur from when Rhudaur, Cardolan, and Arthedain had become three seperate kingdoms as Arnor fractured. Rhudaur had become more of a realm for the Wildmen than the Dunedain - for their presence had waned over the years. It was said the last true king of Rhudaur had married a woman from the Wildmen, and from then on the blood of Isildur was not so pure. Yet, though he knew who she was; he had never seen her until this moment. Her presence alone made this all the more interesting. Last to arrive was a Dwarf to whom he bowed to: Thofred Bluecloak. He was not aware of any Bluecloaks in Ered Luin where lay Thorin's Hall, and concluded he must have come from either Erebor or the Iron Hills.

"Make yourselves at home, Friends. Only after all were seated comfortably did Arthalion sit to gaze at each of them steadily. "Some of you have come of your own free will to my table this morning, but some have also come by my invitation. Be that as it may; all of you are welcome here. I would know what brings each of you here this day to Rivendell; for there are things at work in the world of which I would like to stay appraised of. Most of you know me not. I am Arthalion: Steward of lost Arnor - the ancient Dunedain realm of Elendil, the Tall, and second in command to the Rangers. My job is to protect the region from troubles, but I have a greater purpose which is on the horizon. Such a purpose will require the aid of all those around...even from all walks of life. It is not something to which I can speak of immediately, and before I could - I would still want to know more of those now gathered here. I can tell you this much - the darkness has returned. Perhaps some of you have even noticed this, but even if you are not aware...you are now. The Enemy: Sauron, Dark Lord of Mordor has returned to his Dark Tower of Barad-dur," Arthalion told them, and his voice was grim, but filled with a strange hope which matched in his eyes as he gazed at them each in turn.

He did not say more; for this was their time for tales - not his...not yet, at least. There would be time enough to tell them of the matters which now weighed upon his heart and mind, but first he had to know why they were there. To have one from various corners of Middle-earth could not have been mere coincidence...arriving all within the same day...almost the same hour. He sat back to watch them feast and drink, and in this he listened to them each...his mind working on all that he hoped to accomplish. It would be told him by the Wise that his idea was a fool's errand, but Arthalion did not think so. Some power moved to bring all these people to the hidden valley of the Elves. He would know their purpose before moving forward.

Yet, if he was right...if his prayers had been answered; then the plan he wished to execute might just work. There would certainly be more of a chance if the other members of the Free People got involved. In fact, it was almost necessary in order to succeed.

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"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


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 22, 2018 1:11 pm 

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

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Isengar’s gaze flew to the elven woman who addressed him as he took his seat. Relaxing at her words, Isengar did feel much more at ease than when he had first approached the table. The mixture of fear at being in the company of someone of seemingly a much higher status than himself, as well the atmosphere of the whole place had the Hobbit both a little overwhelmed, as well as excited.

As a dwarf took a seat at the table, Isengar briefly looked him over, trying not to stare too much at anyone. It was all just so new for him! Hobbits were fairly isolated in the Shire, never venturing too far from home, apart from a select few.

Feeling his stomach begin to protest at the lack of food being eaten, Isengar surveyed the spread before him before taking part in the meal. If Hobbits were known for one thing, and one thing alone, it was that they thoroughly enjoyed good food.

Isengar listened to what was being said around the table, perfectly content to do so for the time being. When he was approached by another guest inquiring of who he was.

“Isengar Took.” The Hobbit extended his hand but lowered it soon after upon seeing that the man had moved on to ask about the others gathered. When he heard his name spoken by Arthalion, Isengar turned in his seat to face the man.

“I wonder myself why I was drawn here. I doubt it was simply coincidence I was in Bree at the same time as a group travelling here.” The Hobbit admitted. It had certainly been convenient that the town had been where he had found himself. There was no telling what could have happened had he stumbled out of the forest elsewhere.

As the others took their seats, and Arthalion addressed them all, Isengar listened closely, taking in all the new information being given. So much of what happened elsewhere in Middle Earth was lost to the Shire, and for the most part it was preferred that way. Such darkness spoken of, it sent a shiver through the Hobbit. How had he, and the others back home not noticed any of this? Was it simply due to their ignorance of the situation?

“Mister Arthalion, sir...what sort of aid exactly did you have in mind?” Isengar asked a little hesitant, worry in his voice at what the answer may be.

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"Maybe Asterous's gender is attack helicopter?" ~ Stormwind
"Candy is to kids as Roleplay is to you" ~ Yue
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 01, 2018 9:19 pm 
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From the moment Lyiana stood up and walked over to the noble looking man, she knew that what she was about to witness was not random or ordinary. Indeed, even as she sat down, she could see from the gleam in his eyes something....hope. Unwavering hope in the goodness of the world and of the people who resided within it. Before he began his speech however, his eyes bore into hers, and she blushed softly under his intense but kind stare and lowered her gaze for a brief moment. She did not avert her gaze from total discomfort or intrusion, for his eyes held no hostility or ill-will in them; she lowered them because she found herself intrigued by him and his desire to know all of the newcomers.

As he spoke, she lifted her gaze back up to him to study his face, but more importantly, his eyes; back in Bree, she found that people only looked in each others' eyes if they were friends, or if they were completely drunk and angry. Thankfully, this man, Arthalion was not drunk or angry; but as he spoke of the Dark Lord Sauron and of the shadow that was beginning to sprout in the land, his eyes flickered with a righteous hatred that seemed to spread to the others. His voice and eyes changed as he spoke of a plan to save his land, their land; His passion about restoring Arnor and saving Middle-Earth was indeed infectious, but she found herself wondering what role she would play in this story.

How could she, a lowly half-elf with no connections, past, or professional training of any kind, be useful to this restoration?

Her attention was brought to a man...nay, a Hobbit, who was sitting at their table and enjoying a wonderful looking meal. Lyiana couldn't help but smile warmly at the sight of the familiar race and the nervous edge in his voice as he asked about what aid might entail. She found herself shifting her gaze back to Arthalion, awaiting his answer, for she too wondered the same thing.


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PostPosted: Tue Apr 17, 2018 8:38 am 

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

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Cailiawen sat and listened to Arthalion welcome them. Remaining quiet and taking part in the fine food, she took bread, butter, cheese, bacon, and warm tomatoes. She only took a bit of lettuce and she ate rather quickly as Arthalion spoke. The hobbit named Isengar spoke and asked a fair question of Arthalion.

Having not come by summons or free will, Cailiawen wondered why she had decided to attend Arthalion here other than for the good food she didn’t have to steal or fight for. Yet, Arthalion’s words were true about the evil, and Cailiawen found herself desiring to help Arthalion in any effort he wished to push forth against it. She could not continue to be a lone wolf among the highlands of Rhuadur, but looking around at those gathered, neither did she know what sort of band this man would gather.

Once she had finished eating and was sipping her tea, Cailiawen stood and followed up the hobbit’s question.

“The halfling asks a good question Arthalion, Steward of Arnor. Being one who neither was a recipient of an invitation, or came freely to this stronghold of the Eldar, I stepped in to the protected lands of the elves and was taken prisoner. I do appreciate the hospitality shown by one such as you who hold such high titles to invite one such as me to your table here. But I hold in reservation my fealty to your cause until I hear more of your purpose. If saying such has my weapons confiscated and has me hauled back to a cell as a prisoner, so be it. But for now, I will sit and eat your food, and I will listen to your words, and will decide in time if your cause is worthy.”

Her words were hard, and some may have considered them rough and abrasive toward Arthalion. But Cailiawen would know the depth of the man who claims title of the Steward of Arnor… of her home. She bowed her head to him and sat back down.


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