There was an almost imperceptible moan that was heard in the darkness (for Edrahil's magic had faded with the collapse of the building). Fengel and Dirnhael scrambled to remove the debris from their friend and soon he was uncovered.
Edrahil's eyes flickered open and he hesitantly whispered, "Feennggel... Dirnhaael... I fear... I am not much longer... for this world. I believe that Mandos calls..."
The two men had seen the Sindar wounded before, but never had his spirit seemed quenched. In the darkness and rain, the flame that burned inside Edrahil appeared to be fading.
Durgil made the rest of the journey in silence and unmolested. He came once more before the tall walls of the Lord Mayor's residence and keep. The Ilanin guards stood more at the ready than they had prior, and there was a great deal more of them. One approached the Dúnadan, spear and shield at the ready, "You will make your way back to your home this night! The Mayor will see no one! If you resist, we will kill you!"
Durgil did not back down. "I am Durgil, Lord of Arthedain. My name and words have surely spread through this house. I have tidings that the Mayor must hear, willing or no. Do you see this blade I wield? It's tongue has tasted the life blood a man just doing the malicious and misguided bidding of his master. Yours is just as misguided if you heed not my words; I did not come all this way to be turned away at the gate. War has touched Ilanin and is coming this way whether you like it or not." The Dunadan's eyes blazed with a zealous fire. "If you value your homes and families, you will stand aside and take me to your lord!"
Intimidate (Power) - (5+5)+6+2=18
OOC: I will use a Courage point if it will help
The man was cowed by Durgil's will. He flustered and looked about to try and strengthen his resolve by his men about, but none met his eyes.
"I will take you... though I cannot promise you how you shall be received or what may befall you!"
With that he turned and led the Dúnadan once more into the large manse, to take him before the Lord Mayor of Ilanin. Durgil saw again that the town official still sat within his opulence, drinking wine and being entertained by a young woman dancer. A large fire burnt within a hearth and warmed the room and took the chill from the sodden warrior noble.
It took a few moments before Korman even noticed their presence, but then, "Wha...?? Who disturbs me! When I said that none were to bother me this eve!"
Dirnhael and Fengel lifted the wounded Elf, whose body was much lighter than they expected for one of Edrahil's stature, and carried him to a more comfortable and dry location. The Sindar said nothing more, though his breathing was laboured.
From the rubble and darkness came a gurgling laugh. The two men walked over to see that life remained within the werewolf, and its hatred still showed on its gleeful face. The canine snout was drawn back in a horrid smile and Koskas' eyes shone feral. When the werewolf saw his enemy, he choked a strong laugh through hiss sharp teeth, "It has been a pleasure to raze your lands straw-hair! Though I am soon to fade from this realm, I will go with the pleasure of knowing that more will burn before it is done."
Fengel's eyes grew wide with anger. He turned to Dirnhael as his hands went to his sword, waiting only a moment for his lord's approval to slay this wretched beast.
"Lady, you may retire. The lord no longer requires your services this night," says Durgil in a cooly even tone. "Lord Mayor, a term I use loosely, it seems you have forgotten the warning that I gave yester eve about associations with the East-men and war. If you had taken but a moment to step beyond the grotesque of this room, you would have discovered what dire straits your town is in. The Easterlings have crossed the river in number to march upon Eotheod, their master's minions terrorize your people, and I have slain or driven off a number just to get to your 'hospitable' door. My comrades are off facing the dangers to the town but I have not seen a response of strength and compassion from this town's Master. All I've seen is base man sucking from the teat of his base desires."
Quote from: tomcat on May 20, 2008, 04:45 PM
From the rubble and darkness came a gurgling laugh. The two men walked over to see that life remained within the werewolf, and its hatred still showed on its gleeful face. The canine snout was drawn back in a horrid smile and Koskas' eyes shone feral. When the werewolf saw his enemy, he choked a strong laugh through hiss sharp teeth, "It has been a pleasure to raze your lands straw-hair! Though I am soon to fade from this realm, I will go with the pleasure of knowing that more will burn before it is done."
Quote from: Palandil on May 20, 2008, 04:52 PM
Fengel's eyes grew wide with anger. He turned to Dirnhael as his hands went to his sword, waiting only a moment for his lord's approval to slay this wretched beast.
"Then take your pleasure quickly," he spat at Koskas, pain wracking his body.
Dirnhael nodded to Fengel and turned back to Edrahil before hearing the sickening crunch from Fengel's blade that would end the werewolf's life.
His dear friend's breathing was ragged, and Dirnhael feared for him. He hoped that Edrahil simply despaired at his wounds, because the Dunadan could not imagine life without him and his sage counsel. He rested a hand upon Edrahil's forehead to help soothe him and used the tattered fabric from both their clothes, still moist with rain, to bind what wounds he could.
"Your time is not nigh," he said quietly. "Many years await you before you retire to the West."
He whispered the rest, more to himself than to Edrahil: "Stay."
Fengel wiped the black gore of the werewolf from Cerduil and turned back to Dirnhael, who now kneeled over the wounded Elf. The Éothraim began to walk the distance to where his friends were when dark shadows ran into the ruined square. All were dressed in dark clothes, made moreso by the rain and each had a black sash tied around his face. The figures had weapons exposed ranging from spears to longswords and they skidded to a halt when they saw the ruin of the building and Fengel standing before them.
The shock of seeing each other made both Fengel and the new arrivals draw their weapons up into defensive positions. The Éothraim made a quick count and saw that there was at least a dozen.
Korman stared incredulously at Durgil. How dare anyone come into his house and say such things!
"Who do you think you ARE!?" yelled the mayor. The slight female quickly slid into the shadows to hide. Korman's guards took up positions around Durgil, though none drew weapons... yet.
"Oooh yes, I know of you folk... mighty men of fallen Númenor!" Korman sneered. "You come here and lay judgement and pry into the affairs that are not yours, and you do it thinking that you are wanted! Do you think that I do not know the threat to my town and our way of life? It is not the folks of Ilanin that are stirring problems with these outlanders from Rhûn - it seems to me, from what tales I have heard on the streets, it is you and your band!
"Ilanin has stood here for ages, the crossroads of cultures and business... long before the coming of you folk out of the west. It has lasted because the leadership has never involved itself in the squabbles of its neighbors - a tradition that I intend to wholly follow. What you will find is that when these barbarians of the east go, and you too have taken up the road, we shall still be here, doing business in peace. And you will find that that is the wish of those who live here and those who travel to sell their wares!
"So my upstart young noble of Arthedain, your kingdom and rule is far from here and if you do not wish to die an old man in my cells, you will take yourself quickly from my presence!"
With that said, Korman leered into Durgil's eyes - a contest of wills going on before all of the soldiers within the hall.
Korman's contest of will:
(http://roleplay.avioc.org/boards/Themes/default/images/dice.gif) TN n/a Bearing +2
-------------------------
Roll(2d6)+2: 6,3,+2 Total:11 +6 Courage = 17 [good roll, thought I'd sweeten it since Korman feels cocky in his hall]
OOC: I swear I rolled this...
Durgil stood there and met the gaze of his agressor, vying for supremacy. The will of the mayor began to falter.
(Contest of Wills, rnd #1) TN 17 Willpower (6+6+5)+2=19 COMPLETE SUCCESS
Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on May 21, 2008, 07:35 PM
OOC: I swear I rolled this...
[OOC:] You rolled an Intimidate to get into the manor, but this is the first challenge faced against Korman. Korman is down one Willpower.
Korman's contest of will (round 2):(http://roleplay.avioc.org/boards/Themes/default/images/dice.gif)
TN n/a Bearing +2-------------------------
Roll(2d6)+2: 5,5,+2 Total:12
Durgil did not back down and the noble's will took Korman slightly aback, but still the silent struggle continued.
(Contest of Wills, rnd #2) TN 12 Willpower Roll(2d6)+2: 2,5,+2 Total:9 FAILURE
[OOC:] Durgil and Korman are both down one Willpower.
Korman's contest of will (round 3):
(http://roleplay.avioc.org/boards/Themes/default/images/dice.gif) TN n/a Bearing +2
--------------------------------
Roll(2d6)+2: 4,3,+2 Total:9 +3 Courage = 12
OOC: Likely the deciding round...
TN 12 Willpower - (6+5)+2=13
OOC: If it will end the contest, Durgil will use his two remaining Courage.
The two wills strained for dominance over the other; palpable heat could be felt by those who witnessed the contest.
[OOC:] Hey Matt, Korman has a Willpower of 3 so it may not be worth it to spend your points here... he has 1 Courage left, and the most you will achieve is a Complete Success. This will make him lose 1 more point and you will still have another test.
But, it is your choice of course. I am going to roll the next round, but if you wish to spend your courage for last roll, tell me and I will adjust.
Durgil down 1 Willpower, Kormand down 2.
Korman's contest of will (round 4):
(http://roleplay.avioc.org/boards/Themes/default/images/dice.gif) TN n/a Bearing +2
--------------------------------
Roll(2d6)+2: 3,4,+2 Total:9 +3 Courage
Quote from: tomcat on May 21, 2008, 02:51 PM
Fengel wiped the black gore of the werewolf from Cerduil and turned back to Dirnhael, who now kneeled over the wounded Elf. The Éothraim began to walk the distance to where his friends were when dark shadows ran into the ruined square. All were dressed in dark clothes, made moreso by the rain and each had a black sash tied around his face. The figures had weapons exposed ranging from spears to longswords and they skidded to a halt when they saw the ruin of the building and Fengel standing before them.
Fengel raised his sword in a defensive stance as he yelled to Dirnhael, "Get Edrahil out of here Dirnhael, I will hold them as long as I can!"
Initiative: Roll(2d6)+3: 3,3,+3 Total:9
OOC: No, I'll continue on, not using any Courage in round 3.
The silent battle continues as Durgil holds the gaze of the mayor.
(Round #4) TN 12 Willpower - (5+3)+2+6 Courage=15
Fengel's shout caused the masked men to startle a bit, but quickly they began to react, rolling around the Éothraim to flank him. Behind the crowd of newcomers, Fengel saw another three marauders run into the square - amongst them was a man named Patrel.
To most folk of Ilanin, the appearance of a man of the Plains-folk - tall, lean and generally blonde of hair - is a far cry from those of the easterners out of Rhûn. The east men tend to be shorter, broader, swarthy of skin, and have jet black hair. Fengel, standing before his troop, was obviously not one of the Sagath that were encamped across the river and making raids onto the plains.
"HOLD!" cried Patrel, as his men readied to attack. The Éothraim warrior standing there was obviously prepared for combat, but he was not their enemy... at least not as Patrel was concerned. Fengel and Dirnhael both felt the tension ease as the masked, Ilanin soldiers relaxed their guard and drew back, allowing Patrel to come to the fore.
The lieutenant of the guard looked at the carnage of the street, pulling down his mask as he did. Patrel had to inquire, "What has happened here?! Fear not... we are not your enemy!"
Durgil, along with all of the soldiers within the hall, saw Korman break. The portly mayor blinked hard at Durgil then looked down, his hands trembling as he did. The will of the Dúnadan had proved stronger than that of the merchant-politician, and Korman could not help but to bow before the bloodline of Westernesse - men who in ages past had stood before the very onslaught of Morgoth.
The mayor proved far less intimidating. What was worse was that his hirelings saw it.
"What would you have me do?!" pleaded the mayor in a high, squeaky voice, trying to make Durgil understand his position. "We are not warriors here! We are trades and craftsmen! I cannot withstand the might of Harizän the Easterling, or his second, whose eyes glow feral red! They are in league with the SHADOW!" Korman fell back into his chair, his voice fading as he pleaded again, "What would you have me do...??"
Quote from: tomcat on May 29, 2008, 06:09 AM
Fengel's shout caused the masked men to startle a bit, but quickly they began to react, rolling around the Éothraim to flank him. Behind the crowd of newcomers, Fengel saw another three marauders run into the square - amongst them was a man named Patrel.
To most folk of Ilanin, the appearance of a man of the Plains-folk - tall, lean and generally blonde of hair - is a far cry from those of the easterners out of Rhûn. The east men tend to be shorter, broader, swarthy of skin, and have jet black hair. Fengel, standing before his troop, was obviously not one of the Sagath that were encamped across the river and making raids onto the plains.
"HOLD!" cried Patrel, as his men readied to attack. The Éothraim warrior standing there was obviously prepared for combat, but he was not their enemy... at least not as Patrel was concerned. Fengel and Dirnhael both felt the tension ease as the masked, Ilanin soldiers relaxed their guard and drew back, allowing Patrel to come to the fore.
The lieutenant of the guard looked at the carnage of the street, pulling down his mask as he did. Patrel had to inquire, "What has happened here?! Fear not... we are not your enemy!"
"Harizan's servant, Koskas, is dead," Dirnhael said, gesturing toward the wolf that lay still at Fengel's feet. "But his fell magic exacted a price; our Elven companion needs care quickly - can you help us?"
Patrel walked past Fengel to look at the ruined building and the lifeless form that lay amongst the rubble. He also saw the remains of the large warg and the other two Sagath that had aided Koskas in the attack.
"Your work here appears quite efficient. I hope there were none sleeping within the fallen building..." said Patrel. He then looked to where Dirnhael kneeled over Edrahil. "Yes, there is a place that we can take your comrade and get him help... though I am sure that none of the women have tended an Elf. But come..."
With that, Patrel's men assisted the companions in lifting Edrahil and then as group they hastened down the road, weaving through alleys and side-streets, moving south as they did. Finally they approached the back of a two-story structure that sat on the very southern skirt of Ilanin and as a group entered through the fruit cellar doors.
Dirnhael and Fengel were chilled from being saturated with rain, but also from being down in the cellar. The men around them began to remove weapons and masks, stowing them as they did. Patrel signalled the two and led them up to the house above. There the ladies of the house quickly showed them to a room where Edrahil could be laid down. Fengel immediately recognized the house for what it was, but was glad that his friend would be tended. A larger woman smiled at him and spoke, "We will do what we can... we are long experienced in treating the sick and wounded."
Patrel then spoke, "Come with me. You need not worry about your friend this night, he will be taken care of."
The Ilanin lieutenant led them into a small office where he hung his sword and removed his cloak. He was tall and looked of Éothraim blood with a shock of blonde, albeit wet, hair. His eyes were bright blue and Dirnhael could see that they were true. "Now... who are you, and why have you been seeking me? I have many friends on the street and they told me so. I can only assume that you are three of the four that had been inquiring. Chance meeting that it is, but what is it you want?"
Quote from: tomcat on May 29, 2008, 01:14 PM
The Ilanin lieutenant led them into a small office where he hung his sword and removed his cloak. He was tall and looked of Éothraim blood with a shock of blonde, albeit wet, hair. His eyes were bright blue and Dirnhael could see that they were true. "Now... who are you, and why have you been seeking me? I have many friends on the street and they told me so. I can only assume that you are three of the four that had been inquiring. Chance meeting that it is, but what is it you want?"
"I am Dirnhael, Knight of Arthedain," he said, the honorific still strange upon his tongue. "This is my friend, Fengel of the Eothraim. I, and others with me, were escorting Fengel home when we discovered that his lands had been ransacked by the Sagath and its women taken into slavery. Fengel's sister was one of them - and he liberated her from their camp, which explains why Koskas sought us out. He and I had... a history."
He paused, thinking of the best way to continue. "One of our companions, a Dwarf, has left with his kin. Another, Durgil, a noble of Fornost, was making his way to speak to your mayor again... I did not have much luck with him the last time." He conveniently left out the curse he had lain on the lieutenant's town.
"Another of our friends has joined the Eothraim on the field of battle to prepare for the Sagath's final assault. We came to Ilanin to free Fengel's sister and muster what strength we could from the town to stop the Sagath's advance.
"This is no mere Easterling thrust into Eothraim territory; the Sagath and Harizan are aided by a fearsome figure in black; the Shadow that travels with him is palpable. If they succeed at taking Fengel's people's lands, no village in the area will be safe, including Ilanin. But with men at arms from Ilanin flanking the Sagath as they plan a frontal assault on the Eothraim, they may yet be defeated."
He looked at Patrel; the man seemed just and Dirnhael laid the rest of his cards on the table.
"We need your help; you can protect Ilanin by helping your neighbors - the Eothraim - defeat Harizan and his Sagath rabble. Surely, looking about your city, it is clear that Harizan will not hold to his word, and Ilanin will fall if he is unchecked. The Sagath are on the move as we speak; their wains roll across the plains like distant thunder... time draws short."
"If you truly fear the Shadow, then fight it... stand up for your people and those others who cannot stand up for themselves. That is what our power is for. Long years my people have stayed the tide of darkness from wiping out the last vestiges of our legacy and we will never yield. But it is the lust of power and fear that the Shadow uses to erode our morals and corrupt decent men. Look at yourself... look at your home... what do you see? Is this the house of leader of men or a gluttonous sychophant?"
To the room, "War marches from the East and he has made 'peace' with it, but will you? Can you? If the Eothraim fall, who will be left to help protect Ilanin from further incursion? The Shadow knows only what is His and what isn't, there is no place to be neutral and hope this passes you by." Pointing at the mayor, "This man is weak and corrupt, thinking more to his money purse than the welfare of you and your kin. I did not come here looking for followers but leaders... a leader who will do the right thing. Is there such a person?" Durgil says, eying each person left in the room. "Speak up for time is of the essence. If none can be found, those willing may join my companions and I in the defense of Ilanin and the Eothraim. Words are of no further use here; I have done my part."
[OOC:] Great post Matt! I will follow this stuff up later tonight.
There was a bond between the Easterling and Koskas. Not so much a psychic link, as a shadow on the man's heart. Harizän had always known when his second was near; how he felt; and his moods, based on how chilled was his inner core. When Fengel's sword pierced Koskas' heart and sent the man-wolf back to the shadows from whence he had come, Harizän knew that he was dead. The cold grasp within him had faded.
It was almost missed. The Sagath warrior thought of it as if his hand or arm were missing - it had been there so long. A moment of doubt entered his mind and for a moment, Harizän looked around wondering what to do. But then his fiery ambition returned.
Around him, in the pouring rain, his men snuffed out the few fires that remained. The marauders had not acheived much, thanks partially to the weather and the haste in which they had performed their attack. Still, it was apparent that his position here was becoming tenable. Harizän did not wish to lose anymore of his assets to partisans who thought they may be making a difference. After all, what could the fat mayor of this town ever hope to achieve by hampering the Sagath. "A burnt ruin of a town," answered the easterling commander, out loud, to his own query.
It was time. Koskas was dead. He would have no more advice from him - and Harizän questioned whether it had ever been good. Koskas had always seemed to want to torment those around him, whether friend or foe. He would sacrifice a dozen men for the slightest of gains and always took pleasure in it. Still, Harizän's true master - the Keeper of the Hill of Sorcery, Khamûl - wanted results... and so, it was time.
"Prepare the wagons to move. We shall leave now and find and crush the Éothraim, then once done, we shall return to this place and burn it to the ground." Harizän grunted, "Empty the camp and do it rapidly. Let no one hinder you and any that try... slay them."
With the order given, Harizän proceeded to his own wain, to observe its preparations.
"I am more than willing to aid you," said Patrel. "We have already made an excursion against the Easterlings this night... though the weather has hindered it. But I only have so many men that will follow me. The other soldiers of this city are in the pocket of the merchant-mayor. Let us hope your friend has better luck..."
Some of the soldiers looked down from Durgil's gaze. Few others stared back at him when he glanced at them and the Dúnadan could sense a change. There was a new feeling of pride in the room; a desire to follow one with true strength of leadership.
It was a non-ranked soldier that spoke first, "There is already one amongst us who leads against the Sagath... his name is Patrel." To this, another soldier with the colors of an honor guard replied, "He has been relieved of duty for this... though t'would seem that he holds the best interest for Ilanin. I am Reyvold and I rank amongst the few commanders of the Ilanin Guard - by my word, you shall have our swords!"
"But... but..." was the weak reply from Korman, but it was drowned out as a cry went up from the soldiers within the Hall of Ulvanin. Reyvold looked to his fellows, "Come... there is work to be done."
With that, Reyvold led Durgil to the garrison house within the mayoral mansion, all the while the young noble perceiving that this man and his fellows would answer to any call that he might make.
[OOC:] Okay... it is going on 1 in the morning now (in game); the rain is still pouring over the town, and you guys are separated by about two and a half miles (from where the mansion is to the north, and where Patrel's secret hideout is on the southside of town.
Durgil followed the man out, his mission accomplished. Apparently it was late in the night for once they made it to the garrison's common room, the young man swooned for a moment and caught himself. "Whoa," he murmured, shaking his head. "The hour must be late; I would take to fighting a man with swords over words any day. Sir Reyvold, I would ask that you send your swiftest runner to the town and retrieve my companions so plans can be made with haste. They sought to confront the enemy in the city at the same time we were seeking the very Patrel you mentioned earlier. If you're lucky you may find both. I, for one, must sit down and rest, the sprint to the manor's gates was no simple task."
The morning grew older but the sun had yet to show herself. Though he was weary of bone and bruise, Dirnhael could not get to sleep for fear of his friend lying in the other room, tended by the women of the house. The Dúnadan either paced in the sitting room, or sat before the hearth - all the while Fengel being there but having nothing to offer. The two finally began to doze when Patrel came to fetch them.
"Dirnhael, Fengel!" both started awake. "A runner has come from the mayoral mansion, Ulvanin. It would seem that though the mayor has not been convinced, your companion Durgil has allied the rest of the Ilanin guard. We have a strength of numbers now!"
That said, the young lieutenant ran from the room to organize his own men, excited about what the new day would bring.
[OOC:] If the companions do not take any sleep, they will be affected by weariness penalties as well as any wound penalties now suffered.
OOC: If it did take so long to find the others, Durgil would've likely fallen asleep where he sat waiting for news of their arrival.
[OOC:] I went with that assumption Matt... that works. I will get the new thread up tomorrow, but you guys feel free to RP anything you want to on this one.
This news brightened Dirnhael's spirits. Durgil was not only well, but had been successful, and now Dirnhael might even have a small army to lead. There was little he could do for Edrahil - the Elf was being treated with care - but the morning may bring something he could do for Fengel's people and Thermon... if he could keep his eyes open.
He realized how weary he was. The stress of Edrahil's injury and his battle with Koskas - not including having a building land on him - finally caught up with him. His soreness and stress melted away as he closed his eyes and finally fell asleep for whatever time he could.
Fengel could see in Dirnhael's face what he himself felt in his heart. Finally a break through in this town's uncaring attitude toward his people. He was truly encouraged that this may just end well. He wanted to get up and follow the bringer of such good news and lend any aid that he could. His body however did not. As he found himself absentmindedly staring at Dirnhael, thinking on the events to come with the morning light, the weariness overcame the mighty knight. And again he felt the same feeling as Dirnhael, that of utter exhaustion, and his eyes too fell closed.