A Reprieve

[Telcontar]

Infigured you were waiting on me so I cobbled a post together in the in between moments of getting work done and telling my Colonel the sky was falling or everything was great.

[tomcat]

needed one more days, guys - I may have it up tonight, but probably tomorrow.

[tomcat]

The now open door enticed the companions to look. Even Morirúsë walked over to see, though he already knew what it was - a hidden refuge created by the Elves long ago for this very purpose, to provide supplies and safety.

He sang a soft word in the ancient tongue of his people and the light came forth again from the lamp, which he still kept. He held it up and entered the small chamber. Inside were shelves and containers, chests and cots. The others in the company immediately made to look at the items that were stored here, but then looked back to the Noldo - these items belonged to the Elves.

[tomcat]

Here is a list of things that are stored...I will leave it to you guys to decide what you want to take.

• Elven arrows - straight and neatly fletched (enough to fill two quivers) [Esgalwen 1]

• Elven waybread wrapped in leaves (15 wrappings) [Arbogast, Grimbeorn]

• Dried fruits that are sweet and invigorating (enough to last 4 days for each companion)

• Elven rope (x2) [Arbogast 1]

• Elven blankets - light and soft that are cool in the heat and warm in the cold (x3) [Arbogast 1]

• Elven cloaks (x3) [Arbogast 1, Esgalwen 1, Grimbeorn 1]

• Any item that you would like to suggest via PM. I must approve it before you may use it in your narrative and add to your PC sheets.


The PC's will recover - if they sleep within the sanctuary for the night an additional:

• reduce FATIGUE by the value of the PC's Favoured Body score

• restore ENDURANCE by the value of the PC's Body score

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn turned to see what appeared within.  "The Lady did steer us right and to something unlooked for, yet quite welcome indeed.  What say you, Moriuse?  Do we dare enter?"

[Telcontar]

The elf nodded. "We have permission or we would not have opened it. All goid folk should be in league against our foe."

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast nods at the good sense of this.  Examining the things stored in the refuge, he takes a blanket and a few cakes of waybread, his mind already half on the journey home in the cold days to come.  He also takes some of the rope.  Had I this back in the beacon tower, he thinks, much trouble could have been avoided.

Then he sets about building a fire, as night draws nigh. 


for the effects of resting here, which I presume we're going to do.  Finally, Arbogast isn't weary any more!

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn waited for the others to make their choices as he contemplated the find.  He didn't need the arrows and blankets but the food and cloak intrigued him, especially the lembas.  He'd heard of the elven waybread and was curious of it's making in comparison to his family recipes.

[Telcontar]

"Arbogast, Esgalwen, take a cloak each of you. Not by chance are there three cloaks here. They are well made and will serve you well in wood or plain."

The elf walked within the sanctuary and touched the items of his folk. He saw that the craftsmanship was a blend of Noldor and Sindar. The product of the blending of cultures. He began to examine the shelter closely.

[tomcat]

Nodding to Morirúsë, Esgalwen scooped up one of the soft linen cloaks. It was grey of hue, but changed whenever she moved it in the light. She marveled at how it seemed to take on the color of whatever it was in front of, even as she clasped it around her neck.

Being the only archer in the group, the Ranger also reached for a bundle of arrows to fill her quiver. She only took enough, leaving the rest for any Elven wanderers that might be in need.

Lastly, Esgalwen also took a few of the wrapped waybread and dried fruit. She munched on one of the sweet fruits and she felt invigorated. Around her, her companions took as they needed and each began to settle. Tomorrow they would reach the cave of the wolf, and so one last good rest would be essential.

Fortune is with us, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes and swallowed the delightful food.

I updated all other PC's for their ENC and FAT. 

Add here as you want. I am fine with another song, a vision of the Lady, or anything else. My next post will start the conclusion of this current chapter with you guys reaching the lair of the Werewolf of Mirkwood.

Ayrn is back and will be joining us again. I am not sure what character he is bringing to the table - either someone new or Idunn.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Idle chat continued a bit until the wanderers felt the day and task ahead lay heavy upon their bodies.  Each found a place comfortable enough to rest without worry for the this place knew no scar or hurt of the Enemy and few would dare approach this place filled with the power of the Eldar.  As he closed his eyes, Grimbeorn's thoughts drifted hither and yo, settling upon a wood unknown to him, filled with tall, silver-white barked trees with golden leaves.  Within it there was a high hill and the Lady whom he'd seen before walked upon it, her walking was like dancing to his eyes. After a moment, she turned to meet his far off gaze and gave him curt nod with a discreet smile to her lips as if to respond to a thanks he'd only thought about.  The vision soon vanished into the darkness of dreamless sleep.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast nods his thanks to Morirúsë and spreads a new cloak around his shoulders, marvelling at the way it fades to match the stonework about him. 



I think we're probably done with the scene. 

[tomcat]

Tom has a post he is going to make. It is really fantastic - he proofed it with me.

Anyway, I am going to have a new thread up tonight for the last scene encounter.

I am trying something new with our last encounter - introducing Lair Actions like in D&D 5e. Legendary monsters will have legendary actions while in their lairs. I want to see how well it works in TOR. If it seems to much, I may change it in the middle of our encounter, but either way I want to see how well it works.

My idea right now is:

• The Lair will have a Hate score [these can be reduced by a PC's stance actions like using Awe]

• Each round, the creature can enact up to 3 Lair actions at the end of any PC's actions. The actions will reduce the Lair's Hate score by a number of points for each action's cost.

• The Lair actions return at the beginning of each round.

If you have the D&D 5e monster manual, you will know what I am talking about. Maybe you can give me a suggestion regarding my idea, if you are familiar.

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë sat by the small fire of his companions, the Elven lamp hooded so as not to draw attention to themselves, even here in the sanctuary. The sound of the water falling upon the rocks was as music to his ears, and in it he faintly heard the sound of the sea. 

The Ranger of Gondor and the Woodman looked upon him with wakeful eyes not yet ready for sleep. Grimbeorn had just settled in and began to nod off. The companions had early in their adventure noticed that Morirúsë was prone to moods. For the first time however they noticed that it was in the old places of the world where the feel of his folk was strongest that he was the most alive and present. Even the light of the lamp seemed to affect him, but in its absence, and in the dark places of the world he was angry and quick with a stinging word, less full and less like the stories they had heard of the High Elves.

"Lady of Gondor, is your land as fair as this? I have heard of the streams of Ithilien and the sight of the moon upon her waters, but have never been there. I did not go so far south in the lands of your father's when they were new."

The Elf next touched his ringed mail as he spoke. "We rode openly to war then, the first time in many lives of Men..."

He looked up, "Are we at war again? I feel the Enemy at work and moving - our quarry is a sure sign of that. And here I am geared as if upon the great campaigns of old, the host and might of the Eldar around me. The reality is that I sit upon this hill in the wood, no army about me and in no camp of war, those days will not come again. Though greatly I would wish to see the swords of the Noldor drawn in grim array. The league of Maedhros! Their swords gleaming in the sun like the bright light of flame that catches in dried grass."

The Elf stood and drew his blade in the firelight and pointed it towards the stars. Tall and lordly he looked, his eyes blazed and he towered over their seated forms. Then just as suddenly he sat again and was still and dwindled.

"We are not an immortal folk as your tales deem us. Truly I have walked far longer than you can fathom, but we are not immortal. The span of our years has a limit, whether worn down by grief, or measured as the aging of the world, our spirit is not boundless and in some it is spent more quickly. For all it is tied to the duration of Arda."

The Elf stared at the fire a moment in silence again, then continued.

"I thought to tell you a tale of Men tonight. One to embolden your hearts and give you courage for tomorrow. I thought to tell you of the coming of Elendil out of the sea and the muster of the Elves for their last great sally in war. I do not have the heart to tell it. For even in its victory, there was loss and defeat. So much loss and defeat through the years I'm afraid even now the weight of it would bleed through my story."

"I have hoarded grief and revenge like treasure. I have stored it up to unleash on the Shadow in vengeful payment for the many injuries it has caused me. Though in truth many of those injuries I have brought upon myself. Yet still I have girded myself for war and pass with you as through a memory instead of seeing what is before me. A changed world in which my history and my place is doomed to pass away. Perhaps I came here seeking my own death, or perhaps it is fate that has brought me here for something else."

"When we crossed the river I thought I was dying. Though Grimbeorn, you bore me out of the water and to the shore, for a moment I thought I would pass and the waters would take me away to the sea and then to the West. After that moment, when we were clear of the river I heard the message of Ulmo. The messenger told me that he had not deserted all the waters of Middle-earth, and that help and hope still had a place in the world. Perhaps even a hope for me.  Now, here, unsought for, is a holy place to Ulmo Lord of Waters, so far from sea to be at the height of a mountain even. I see now that I should be humbled and hear his love still in the water of the fountain. A love I forgot; a love I thought to have the mastery of here in Arda."

The Elf looked at his two companions intently and peace was in his face. "I killed my own kin. Long ago and though it was by the orders of my lords, I still must bear my share of blame. My hand did the deeds and it was my heart that was kindled to wrath, and it was this blade I carry that spilled the blood. I wish that I could say it was madness, or only once, but it was neither. I am Morirúsë, I am Dark Wrath, and I killed in the service of the Sons of Feanor to reclaim the heirlooms of their house in wars long past remembering. The last of a few who would not repent of our exile, prideful and stubborn even then. I then, for my part, sought the servants of the Enemy to wash that blood from my hands.  I was the sword, the sword was me, and I went to war."

"An Age of the World has passed and yet still I am the sword and the sword is me, and my heart burns with a hatred to slay those beasts of darkness in a vain hope that in cleansing the world I will cleanse myself. I go no longer upon a great war of old. I instead go to slay a beast that preys upon the Children of Arda, a plague upon both the First and the Second born, this ancient twisted evil in wolf form. This may end in my death at the hands of the beast. If that is so, bring me here to the waters of Ulmo and lay me down. My armor is yours to keep. A great boon it will be should either of you ever ride to open war, and perhaps serve as a memory that once the Noldor dwelt here in Middle-earth in both great glory and great folly. This deed will not wholly redeem me even in death, but now at least I can see my pride."

"The sword do not use. Do not take it up. But if you would look beyond my pride and see what once we were to be, take my sword to the Lord Celeborn, husband of the Golden Lady you saw here. Lay it at his feet and ask my pardon."

[tomcat]

The morning came with snow.

It fell thick and heavy and a hushed silence lay over the foothills. The companions, now feeling invigorated and rested, donned their packs once more and started the day's march. They were leaving the Elven sanctuary and they knew that their goal was close at hand. If Orophal had been accurate in his directions, the lair of the werewolf would be close.

They followed the neat steps down from where the fountain gurgled, and around as it circled the gazebo above, until they came once more to the needle-covered forest. The fir trees were painted with white clumps of snow. It was cold, but not terrible, and their new Elven cloaks warmed their bodies.

Esgalwen led them, once more, and they moved north and east along the lower heels of the terrible mount, Saer Aegas.

Behind them, unknown to each save Morirúsë, a bright-haired Elven woman watched them leave. She stood in the cold wind, in thin garments, uncaring of the cold wind that blew. She watched them and blessed them, though no word she spoke.

Mornhûn the Black Heart, is your goal. Stay true to one another and allow not the fell-spirit to bind you or take you. Foul is its presence and it may try to take you, so as to walk among Men. Stay strong and do not fear to make even the greatest of sacrifices.

Mornhûn.

They knew not why, but each of the companions now knew the name of their antagonist.

A wolf's cry sounded in the distance, as the Golden Lady faded from the Elven sanctuary.