Old friend's return

[tomcat]

"WARE!" cried Edrahil as his horse reared and he drew the attention of the attackers from his friends. It was as if the sky thundered above with his every word, and his eyes crackled with white fire. Though he only spoke calm words to them, his voice deeply resonated throughout the woods and the horsemen saw before them one of the Eldar of old, in all his majesty. They could do naught but cower. "You shall refrain from this fight and get thee gone. Your doom is before you lest you take flight now!"

Both horse and man quivered, and for the briefest of moments, it seemed to the horsemen that the trees themselves groped for them, trying to unhorse them. Mustering enough courage to speak, the leader of the attackers cried, "Ride! We have done enough here." And quickly he spurred his mount in the direction of the road north, and away.

Behind all, back on the road, the remaining two archers saw Edrahil's power and quickly dropped their bows and ran.



Actions, dialogue or both...

[ZehnWaters]

Vidugavin smiled heartily to see his enemies flee like children before the impressive elf (even if he himself was a tad frightened by the display).  As soon as they were gone he dismounted and went about to see if his very low skill in tending to injuries could do any good.

[Palandil]

As Fengel heard the voice of their Elvish friend his heart was encouraged.  And again Edrahil had amazed him.  As the enemy fled in fear he greeted their comrade.  "Your arrival could not had come at a better time, dear elf.  Dirnhael had grown fat being in his home lands and I had feared for his life."  He said with a smile as he aimlessly touched his own wound.  "I thought that you had gone to your kin not mine, who is this that travels with you friend?"

[BrianM]

Pethron stared at the elf, awed by the display of power. This was the rider he had spotted through the trees moments earlier, and it was obvious that he was responsible for pulling the enemy from his horse. The others had mentioned the elf Edrahil in their stories, and surely this was him. Turning to watch the enemy horsemen retreat, the scribe greeted the elf in the Sindarin tongue. "A timely arrival for us, friend. Thank you for saving our lives. It doesn't appear we would have lasted much longer." His gaze falling on Dirnhael, Pethron continued, "It seems your healing skills might be required as well."

[tomcat]

Edrahil prompted his horse over towards Dirnhael, sliding from his saddle as he did. He walked up to his old friend and reached up to his sword hand, "Come Dirnhael, release your blade. Your wounds need tending."

The Dúnadan weakly responded, letting Vorandúr slip from his grasp into that of the Sindar and he leaned forward onto the neck of his horse.

Hearing his native speech, Edrahil gave a smile and looked to Pethron and Fengel. "I am Edrahil, though you seem to have the advantage on me, sir Dúnadan, for I know not who you are. And no Fengel, I did not return to your lands for aid in this hour of need!" His smile broadened, "In fact, I know nothing about this rider either. I was sent north some days past by Mithrandir who came riding west towards Lindon in search for the king of Arthedain."

The Sindar eased Dirnhael down to the ground and looked back to the others, "Swiftly... we need to make a warm place where I can tend him. We should then make haste for Durgil's home. I fear that those highwaymen will not stay away forever."

[ZehnWaters]

Vidugavin nodded in agreement with Edrahil's announcement that they didn't know each other and then proceeded to attempt to make a fire.

Survival check?

[sdrotar]

Dirnhael sighed with relief as the pain from his wounds took him into unconsciousness. Edrahil had appeared almost as if out of a dream.

The dreams of Dirnhael were not pleasant; Methilir had taken Durgil's lands, along with his and Fengel's, and Ioreth as well. It was fear of the latter that roused him into wakefulness, something he regretted as the pain took him once more. He could do little but speak, and it embarrassed him.

"Edrahil," he whispered, "once again, I owe you my life. The conspiracy that encircles these lands is vast, and it demands blood. T'were not for you, it would have had it."

[tomcat]

The group dismounted and Edrahil handed Pethron the gilded blade of Dirnhael, which had been named Vorandúr by the Lady Arwen of Rivendell. The sage marvelled at the craftsmanship that had gone into the blade and the beautiful tracery of bright mithril that ran the steel's length. It was a noble weapon and he treated it with such regard.

Meanwhile, Vidugavin set about gathering wood and piling it into a hollow that would allow for easy lighting. His kinsman, Fengel, saw to helping Edrahil get the bedrolls off the horses and spread out so that Dirnhael could be laid down. The Dúnadan's wounds were bad and the bloodflow would need to be staunched swiftly else his friend may not survive the day. Fengel increased his efforts with a vigour for he would not allow that to happen.

With Dirnhael now laying down, Edrahil took from his horse's saddlebag clean linens and he handed them to Fengel and Pethron. "See to putting pressure on his wounds and binding them. Once done, we will see to your own."

Edrahil had become a master healer over their many journeys, and he worked quickly but quite efficiently. Dirnhael's tattered and blood-soaked garments had been removed and he now lay bandaged and covered with heavy blankets, though he still suffered with pain. Fengel and Pethron, too, were in a bad way and once their own wounds were dressed, the Sindar spoke again, "Fengel you two will also need to prepare your bedrolls."

The Éothraim was in pain, but he defied his friend's wish only to be softly rebuked, "Fear not! This new companion and I shall keep watch, but you three shall not have much choice but to do as I say." Edrahil drew from his bag a small skin. "This contains my own rendering of Yarë's brew and though I fear it is not as potent as the wise old man's, it still shall have its benefits. But as before, it shall bring a great weariness upon from which you will not escape... so, find a comfortable place and drink a good swallow."

Edrahil handed the skin first to Pethron who looked at it suspiciously. The scent that came from the draught was strong and the taste was bitter as he partook, but it was not long before the pain from his wounds began to subside and a heaviness laid over his eyes. Fengel, too, was overtaken and laid back with a harumph and soon was sound asleep. The Sindar administered a drink to Dirnhael and then sat and waited until the Dúnadan was asleep. Finally, he turned to Vidugavin, "So, stranger... who are you and what brings this chance meeting?"

In Fornost, Orodreth stood in the courtyard of the king looking at the four horsemen collected before him. The Steward had done what he could to stave off the impending troubles but only King Argeleb had the authority to bring it to a close.

Durgil was imprisoned for murder and only the King could pardon. Orodreth was certain that Methilir would press the issue of matrimony to Durgil's sister, especially since the King had given his blessing - his concern was what the knight, Dirnhael, would do. The man of Cardolan had won enough renown to call men to his banner and it was possible that conflict could break out within the realm of Arthedain between its nobles. Such tensions could be enough to destroy the final vestige of what remained of Arnor.

Orodreth stood thinking. He had sent Mirthrandir west to find Argeleb. Now he needed to quell any further problems in the northern counties long enough for the King to return and bring back order. The four horsemen were men of high blood. Dúnadan. Two were of the house of Boragil and were capable travelers and woodsmen. They carried enough authority to order Camentir off the northern front, along with a contingent of soldiers, and march them to Dorthad.

The other two were to be messengers to Dirnhael and Methilir. Orodreth wanted to make sure that the two quarreling lords knew that the throne would not permit infighting within the realm. The messenger to be sent to Dorthad was Celdrahil, actually a man of Gondor - Ithillien to be specific - who could trace his lineage to Orodreth himself. The Steward knew not why the Gondorian had made his way to Arthedain, but had opened his house to his kin, as was tradition of the Dúnedain.

Celdrahil had proven to be a worthy guest and aid in Orodreth's daily duties and so had won the Steward's trust. He would be a worthy messenger to Dirnhael, carrying forth the King's will to not hasten any conflict. Orodreth spoke, "Speed on now! There are many leagues that need covered and I do not know the amount of time we have to work with. Arthedain has too many threats on its borders to also struggle with bloodshed by our own hands... make haste."

With his word, the horsemen sped away.



I do not remember what the brew did way back in the day, but because it is a concoction created by Edrahil to imitate, I am going to say it returns Vitality x2 in Health points. I have adjusted all character sheets. You guys will be asleep through the entire day and night... so our story pics up the next day. But before we do, I am going to give Zehn a chance to RP a bit... and yes, it is a Survival test TN 7

[BrianM]

  Ack! That's what I get for being slow to reply ... put to sleep by strange elvish brew! This will have to be injected somewhere before Pethron drinks the healing draught.

Pethron held Vorandúr with great care, sitting nearby while the elf tended to Dirnhael. "Forgive me. I know of you but have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Pethron, scribe and storyteller. Lately I have been recording the tales of these brave travelers, in many of which you figure prominently! I travel with Dirnhael and Fengel now to assist however I may to resolve the predicament their comrade Durgil finds himself enmeshed in." Looking at his own wounded body, Pethron added "It seems my help with the blade will not be useful though."

[ZehnWaters]

"I am Vidugavin, son of Vilithalion," Vidugavin explained, while he stacked the wood into a conical shape (Roll(2d6)+2: (5,2)+2 Total: 9).  "I am merely exploring the world while I have the chance.  My father is the leader of our people and I'll be expected to take his place when he dies."

Vidugavin managed to light the tinder.  He placed some kindling on and blew lightly to get the fire going.  Soon the kindling was ablaze as well.  He stood up.

"There, that should do," Vidugavin commented concerning the fire.  "I do not begrudge replacing my father, it is my duty, but I would like to see the places outside of my own land.  The Misty Mountains are to the West of our lands; ever a mighty barrier.  It was them I desired to conquer first.  I have but freshly crossed them."

[tomcat]

Okay Zehn, I will need you to look at the following thread and tell me which tribe your from of the Éothraim:

The Éothraim... those people that would one day be the Rohirrim

Your father is not a king, per se, but he is a clan tribal leader of one of the sub-clans of the six tribes.

A map is attached to this thread at the bottom that you can look at to see where the six tribes lived. Fengel is of the Ailgartha and he served under Thuidmar. You too can be of the Ailgartha, but were not in any relation to Fengel's clan.

Let me know if you have questions...



Edrahil smiled at Pehtron's words, though he did not look up from his task of seeing to the Dúnadan's wounds. "Aye, I have had the same experience as you, sir sage. Being with these two men can be detrimental to one's health at times."

Then it was Vidugavin that introduced himself and the Sindar listened with great interest. When done, Edrahil answered, "T'was but only a few weeks past that we also returned from the Eastern lands where you are from. Fengel led us across the mountains in search of news of his family. With the great sickness that is plaguing all the lands, he wanted to know that his sister and parents were well, only to find that things were bad at home. But it was by his hand that a Sagath invader was driven from the lands of Thuidmar, though that king fell in battle. With all set right, Fengel decided he would return here to his new home and he brought his sister with him. I assume that she is well within the house of Durgil."

With Pethron's wounds bound, Edrahil gave him a drink from the skin and helped the man to lay down by the fire. He looked back to Vidugavin, "It was helpful that you were on the road here. Do you plan to stay, or will you be moving on?"

Celdrahil took the road north out of Fornost. He had gathered news that Dirnhael and his companions were seen riding down it the day prior and the messenger hoped to catch the Company before they made it to Dorthad. He spurred his mount forward at a good pace, though not to hard as to wear the beast out. The Dúnadan did not know his good fortune, for as he rode, Dirnhael and his companions were being laid to rest from their battle with the highwaymen - and so Celdrahil's task would be made easier.



Feel free to give me some more narrative/dialogue between PC's if you want, otherwise I will be moving us on to the next scene.

Tom - you may, if you want, roll up your horse and give it three Advancements per the FBWM sourcebook. It is a Riding Horse to start, but you may increase its abilities with the picks.

[Telcontar]

  Tomcat, I don't have the FBWM here with me at the moment in order to do this. I would like the mount to be battle tested and reliable over long distances instead of fast at short sprints. I think that those attributes would best represent my long journey north. What types of things can the advancements be used on?


The horse moved at a good pace down the road towards the camp of the companions. Its passage more likely marked by the Elf before it even came into view. Once visible over the ridgeline a rider could be seen. A great green cloak hung behind the rider, which matched the harness of the horse. With each stride of the horse small silver bells tinkled in the evening air, they were crisp and clear in the evening air. The dark green of the cloak encased a bright hauberk of ringed mail, which clad the rider. As the horse and rider came closer the warrior atop the mount appeared to ride it with ease and comfort, its pace steady and rhythmic as if in for a long ride.
     As the smoke of the fire and the campsite by the road came into view the rider was seen to position his sword in the event that he would have to draw it while mounted. As he did so a shield could also be spotted hanging from the harness and protecting the left flank of the beast he rode. No change was seen in the pace of the horse as the rider adjusted himself and together they quickly came upon the impromptu camp.
     The rider stopped his pace as he came in proximity of the group, most of which appeared sleeping, and addressed them in the Sindarian tongue. "A star shines on the moment of our meeting. I am on the business of the King's Steward and I seek news of a party and a knight set out from Fornost Erian a few days hence. They are headed for Dorthad and the knight is known as Dirnhael by the folk of the North. Have you marked their passage today?"
     To the uninitiated the voice was that of one of the Eldar and the speech little changed through the passage of years in Middle-earth, but to one who spoke it natively it had the accent of one of the Southern Dúnedain. Sindarian was still the language of the Dúnedain of the South and it came easier to the lips of this rider than did the common tongue spoke by lesser men.
     The rider was dark of hair and bore the lineage of the most blessed of the Second Born, the blood of Númenor clearly evident in his stature and bearing. He spoke from the saddle with a voice that was used to issuing commands and expecting them to be obeyed. As the horse stepped closer to the fire light the warm colors played upon his hauberk and highlighted his dark hair and proud face. As well as revealing the high quality of his kit and gear. Upon the saddle he was also seen to bear a long bow, seldom seen as an article of war on one so armored in the northern realms. The shield held no device being of simple green, like his cloak, and bearing as a boss a silver full moon. The hilt of his sword was also wrapped of a similar color and in easy reach of the rider.
     The rider sat and awaited a response from the keeper of the flame and the watchman of this party of travelers.   

[tomcat]

Hopefully you received my e-mail Tom with all of the things you need for your horse.

Also, the timeframe is crunched a little bit as Celdrahil was actually leaving Fornost when the Company members were being laid down to rest - and they were a day's ride north... so, we shall speed up time a bit here to allow for Tom's post and carry on from there. It is now evening on the north road and Vidugavin and Edrahil stir from their watch to see Celdrahil's approach. Celdrahil sees the sheltered firelight and approaches the Company and does his above speech.

We carry on...



Edrahil had heard the horse's approach long before he had seen the rider coming up the road, his form blocked by the drifting snow and trees. Not knowing whether this was threat, the Sindar drew forth his sword and moved away from his sleeping companions and closer to the road. No sooner had he gotten to a position where he would be seen by any oncoming riders, Celdrahil and his horse trotted up - the Dúnadan drawing hard on the reins to bring the horse to a halt.

[insert Celdrahil's dialogue here...]

Seeing that the rider was a Dúnadan and hearing the Sindarin tongue, Edrahil replied in kind easing his swordarm and allowing the weapon to hang at his side. "Well met stranger and good fortune falls on your task for you have come upon Dirnhael and his company." The Elf caught the puzzled look on Vidgavin's face and changed his tongue to that of the common Westron, "I am Edrahil of the folk of Lindon and this is Vidugavin of the Rhovanion... we guard our fellow companions who have taken greivous wounds from highwaymen. So... if you are as you say, then we welcome you, otherwise know that we shall use all force necessary to stay you from harming our friends anymore!"

With his final words, Edrahil drew himself up to his full Elven stature and made sure that the horseman knew he was serious. Then he inquired, "Why does the Steward send word from Fornost?"

[Telcontar]

 Celdrahil looked at the easterner and addressed the elf. "Hail Edrahil of Lindon! I am Celdrahil. I thought not to meet the party here on the road so soon nor one of the first born. I have come at the will of the Steward of this realm to avert a widening escalation of violence. I have been sent to keep the peace, as it is feared that Dirnhael would call his dependants to arms and provoke a wider war to the benefit to the enemy of us all."

Cedrahil nodded to the easterner and dismounted. "I mean no harm to you, or your companions. I have been sent to keep the peace as an agent of the Steward of this realm, and enforce the will of the King. Where is your master the Lord Dirnhael? I would speak to him."   

[sdrotar]

  I'm excited about the new additions to our little tale here; though I guess that going on for what? Four or five years? More? It hardly qualifies as "little" anymore...  Regardless, welcome to you both!