The Doom-Ring at Wuduseld

[Telcontar]

  I was thinking that only one person spoke for each village. Which is why i put forward they couldn't be war chief and a leader.

Now with font installed I also see that Tyrant's Hill and the Toft don't have any elders who can vote.....

[tomcat]

  Mogdred is here for what he believes is his birthright.

[Telcontar]

  mogdred is going to be lucky if he leaves alive.

[Eclecticon]

More tale-y goodness coming soon, guys.  I just need half an hour of clear air.

[Eclecticon]

With a disdainful grunt, Mogdred leaves Esgalwen and stalks from the hall followed by the small retinue that accompanied him to the feast.  One woman favours the Dunadán with a glance as she passes, and it is with a start that Esgalwen marks her face for, though she is now richly clad and adorned with golden rings, and her hair has been dyed a firey red, Dagmar of Tyrant's Hill has aged but little in the years since last the two met.  No time is there for questions, however, before the Toft-King's party has stomped down the stairs of Wuduseld, plainly meaning to spend the dark hours in their own camp. 

At the long table, Arbogast finishes the last of the meat and begins to eat the hard bread on which it was served.  "Tomorrow," he says to Gwaithlim and Luindîs, his tone betraying little of the taughtness about his eyes, "the elders will gather in the doom-ring and the choosing will begin in earnest.  Oh, to have the many years of the Elves to spend!  Ingomer Axebreaker, I am told, was chosen after two days, and that was accounted uncommonly fast." 

Hathcyn, meanwhile, is jarred from his thoughts by a heavy knuckle rapping the bench near him and turns to find Rorin at his side, eyes glinting with the glee of secrets about to be shared.  "Our mutual friend says that Sanjar eats like a young stallion and is fast becoming a man in body, if not yet in heart.  She also says that, if you'd care to meet her down by the river-shore before dawn, she has news that she's eager indeed to share." 

[tomcat]

It is no longer a surprise that Mogdred surrounds himself with murderers, thought the Ranger.

The fire that had flared in her belly slowly subsided, and Esgalwen felt weariness weigh on her shoulders. She looked back into the hall and all that quietly debated within, and sighed to herself, I need peace and quiet and will not find it here.

She made her way out of the hall and down the hill of Wuduseld, into the darkness of the night. Esgalwen followed the path to the gates of Woodland Hall and signaled to the two guards that kept watch there, "It has been a long evening of debate in the hall atop the hill and my mind needs rest. I go to sit by the river to find peace. If anyone seeks the Lady Esgalwen, do not speak of where I have gone. I will return with the light of dawn."

The two guards looked to each other - their faces concerned in the torchlight, "Lady... do you not wish to have company? The river and the forest's edge can be dangerous at night."

The Dúnadan gave them a smile, "I will be fine, but I thank you for your concern." Still she resigned to their concern, "If you feel the need to check on me, I will be resting on the dock."

It is with reluctance that the two men submitted, but they nodded and she stepped through the gates. She followed the path to the sound of the gurgling of the Black Tarn and saw the starlight flicker across its dark water. Esgalwen padded out onto the dock, hearing the boards creak at each step.

Frogs filled the night with their song and swallows and bats flittered from the forest's eaves, hungrily devouring insects that swarmed above the water. At the end of the dock, she unstrapped Nimronyn from her waist and sat, laying the sword across her lap once seated. Esgalwen pulled her cloak tightly around her to limit any bare flesh to the neek-breekers and mosquitos, and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted back to her days spent in the land of Ithilien, keeping watch between the Mountains of Shadow and the Anduin River. She relaxed and let the stress of the day, and evening, fade from her mind.

The Ranger sat in the darkness, smiling to herself about the homeland she loved.