Celdrahil considered himself a man of the world.
But no place was above him, or beneath his singular tastes. Good food, good beer, a song and a woman and the makings were for a good night. He was a noble Dúnadan of Gondor and after finding trouble for himself at home, made his way to the north - to Arthedain, the remaining kingdom of Arnor. The only house that still had true blood of Westernesse in its line of kings - heirs of Isildur himself.
Still, the north was backwards to what he was used to in the south. Gondor's great citadels housed libraries of ancient lore, arts, heirlooms of the Kings, and were evidence themselves of the might of Númenor. The fortress of Fornost Erain might as well be considered a thatched barn to that of Minas Anor. He had heard of the beauty of Annúminas, the former seat of the king where Elendil had taken up his place before the end of the Second Age. But it was now a ruin. The thought made Celdrahil sad.
He blew the foam off his beer and brought his mind back to where he was and why, though it was a far cry from what he was used to, he liked it here. The draft had been just poured from a keg that the innkeep had just unsealed and it was a fine brew. Celdrahil hefted his boots to the table and leaned back in his chair. It had been a long road and he was glad that he had made it to Bree before the rain had started. A lithe woman with a broad smile walked by him and her hand scooped his feet up and off the table. He teetered forward and came to rest again on all four legs of his seat as she smiled, "No muddy boots on me table and don't go breaking the crocks by falling from your seats. Ol' Hanley won't be having his furniture broke neither." She continued past him, her hips swaggering in a way that only a woman could. A different smile crossed the warrior's face.
Although his kin, the Steward of Arthedain, resided in Fornost, Celdrahil had found the countryside more to his liking. He also had made good friends with the young noble, Durgil. The two were like-minded in their acknowledgment of tradition. Durgil had taken a non-Dúnadan woman as his wife and so been precluded from the court. Yes, he was still accepted among his peers but there would be no way he or any of his line would ever take the throne. Celdrahil's own problems with his position down south made for a commonality that joined them as friends, though he never spoke of it.
The noble had been in Fornost on an errand of Durgil, to the king, regarding crop yields and what Dorthad would be able to offer in support for the kingdom. It had been a good season and Argeleb had been pleased. Celdrahil had expected to be dismissed and sent on his way only to find that the Steward would need him to perform another task - he was to command an escort for an official out of Fornost. The troop would take the great East-West Road past the ruins of Amon Sûl where they would meet up with another escort and the men of Fornost would be relieved. It was simple enough, but kept him in the saddle for another week. When they had reached Bree, Celdrahil had dismissed the soldiers of his escort and decided to remain in the small town for an evening. He wanted to take in the local flavor.
He looked around. The King's Rest Inn (what would one day become the Prancing Pony) was lit with the warm light of candles and the hearth. A crowd of people mingled about making a raucous noise of laughter and chatter. Behind it all, the gleeful music of a trio of bards jingled and clapped. Mugs and plates clattered and clinked. It was as close to perfect as the Dúnadan could expect.
Celdrahil saw a dwarf sitting alone by the hearth. He, too, looked like a traveller and the man assumed it was one of the folk from the Ered Luin. It was odd to him that the dwarf was alone. Didn't they travel in caravans of their people moving their wares from north to south? Oh well, no matter, he thought. He began to scan about the room again for the lovely young lass who had taught him his manners. The room was full and she was no where now in sight. The innkeep had to be pleased - the rain had brought in a houseful.
It was then that Celdrahil noticed a man at the bar. There was urgency in his face. He was soaked to his core from the rain and mud still spattered his face. He had been riding hard? The bartender shook his head and the man looked hurriedly about. Suddenly he called, "FORNOST! I am looking for the city of Fornost! Is it near?"
The music stopped and the chatter of the room died. All faces turned to the mudcaked rogue.
Nain puffed on his pipe.
He ignored the noise of the men around him. The dwarf had been to this inn many times and enjoyed it. There was always a smattering of his kinfolk within and he also enjoyed to see the little folk - the Hobbits. They were an odd thing and it always made for a good tale along the road.
Nain cocked an eye when another lone figure looked in his direction, but then the man's eyes turned away in search for someone else within the room. Suddenly a voice broke the din, "FORNOST! I am looking for the city of Fornost! Is it near?"
:ooc: Welcome back to the west side of the Misty Mountains, Nain. The last we saw your PC, he was taking up with another troop of dwarves. I need to go back to that chapter to find out where he was going to go with them, but bottom line, start working on a "what I have been up to speech" for when the other guys ask.
Again everyone, welcome back to Middle-earth!
:ooc:What kind of time frame are we talking here, months, years? I have some ideas based on his original back story, basically he had to travel home and put is dead brothers affairs in order.
From Telcontar... just in the wrong thread:
Cedrahil rose from the table when he heard the man make his proclamation into the common room of the tavern. He set his mug down and his hand by habit and without malice fell to the pommel of his sword on his hip. Looking at the man he recognized the garb of the south, for he had come that way and tarred for a while on his way to the home of his kinsman. The man wore no badge or symbol of a house and appeared in great haste. The Dunédan took a step towards the traveler so his voice would not travel throughout the tavern unless he needed it to.
"I am Sir Cedrahil," he spoke the common tongue but it was strangely accented to the common people of the tavern.
"I am a servant and officer in the service to the King at Fornost. What need drives you there, and may I be of assistance? There is no need to trouble these good folk here."
The knight was clad in mail, though he wore it easily, and tall. His hair was like that of the other men of the West and his eyes shown grey, eyes that were now peering at the new comer and assessing him.
:ooc: Hey Tom, just to be clear - your PC name is spelled:
Celdrahil -or- Cedrahil
Your back story write up has it as Celdrahil as does your character sheet. Let me know so I don't mistype it the whole game through.
Stefan, it has been almost a year since Nain left with the other dwarves in July 1637. Game date is now June 1638.
:ooc: thats from not playing in so long. Should be as in the character sheet.
:ooc: Cool - Celdrahil it is! ;)
The man eyed Celdrahil at first with suspicion, but then changed his manner as he saw the noble bearing in the Dúnadan. "I am bearing a message given to me by an old man along the road. I am of Cardolan and though I know of the Norbury of the Kings, I have never been. The world is wide and roads can seem to go on forever. Once I made Bree I knew I was close, but the rain... the road..."
Celdrahil could see the weariness in the man's mud-spattered face. A sudden change came over his demeanor, "You are a servant of the king? So you must go to Fornost Erain? Then maybe..." something changed. "No, I must find the way to see this task done. The old man would want it that way. If you could kindly just let me know if the Greenway north is my route."
:ooc: It is, just so you know.
Nain sat quietly in his corner watching the men and listening to their words. He'd heard that some of his friends had settled in the area near Fornost since he'd split with them the previous summer and thought that it might be nice to visit. He waited for a few moments to see how their conversation played out before introducing himself.
Celdrahil listened to the man. The messeges of old men didnt concern him. He was about to wave his hand vaguely in the direction of the road and the direction of Fornost, but paused.
"To whom is the message directed, perhaps I can offer greater assistance with my directions."
The rogue continued to look Celdrahil up and down, but the noble had a trusting face. "I know not the man, but I was told to make for Fornost and from there Dorthad. Dir... or Dur... something... does this help?"
Celdrahil was surprised at the mention of the name and place.
" do you mean Dirnhael of Dorthad?"
"I am well acquaintd with both the man and the place. In fact I was planning on returning there in due course. It appears that you have greater haste than that though my good traveler from Cardolan. I am Sir Celdrahil Of Ithilien here in the north visiting my kinsman. I am a good friend of Sir Dirnhael, and a concern to him is a concern to me. This maybe more than a chance meetung on the road. Where does this news come from and what can you tell me without compromising any instructions you were given or any private bussiness of my friend? For if there is trouble, which your haste implies I know doubt will share the burdan with the Lord of Dorthad."
Nain, listening to the two talk, thought he'd heard a name that he'd recalled from the days shortly after the death of his brother. One of the men that had found him, saved him from what would likely have been a cold and lonely death, and set him on his path back to his homeland. He'd come a long way since those days, it would be nice to thank those men for their aid. He listened more closely to the taller man as he spoke or Dirnhael and Dorthad.
"That is the name!" The man was glad to hear it and to find someone that knew of whom he sought. "The old man said it was urgent that I get to him but the weather outside is no longer fit for travel and this inn calls to me. I will first have a spot of beer and a warm bowl of soup. While I eat, if you would be so kind as to tell me how I might find this Dorthad."
The rogue, Madoc, moved to signal the young woman who only recently before had been Celdrahil's attempted conquest. "A beer and some warm soup, please." The maid smiled and nodded and the bedraggled man made his way to the hearth to warm himself. He looked to see if Celdrahil had followed.
Celdrahil arched an eyebrow. His pose was no longer relaxed and a voice used to being obeyed changed from an inquisitive timber to one that wanted answers. "I am perhaps a little misunderstanding you. You arrive here calling out for a destination, immediate directions to the house of my friend in fact, a great pressing urgent need is upon you, and then dine on soup."
"You would be wise not to mistake me for but an ordinary traveler or peddler on the road. What is the nature of your errand with Dirnhael Lord of Dorthad, loyal servant of the King?"
The inn had grown quiet as the two men spoke, but now the silence was complete as the patrons inched themselves away from the Dunedan and listed for the response of the traveler. The people of Bree appreciated peace, due greatly to the fact that they knew that it was fragile and the enemy was not so far away that the tips of his fingers or his deepest plots couldn't find their way into the heart of Bree itself. With the knights words some looked on with apprehension, while others knowing that Cardolan was a ruined kingdom eyed the strangers with suspicion now due to the knights posture.
The serving girl paused in mid glide towards the traveler and her tray became upright pressed against her breast marveling at the change that had just come over the armed and armoured knight. Short moments before he had been upon the verge of laughter and song, perhaps even one in the language of the elder. Now, and not due to changing humors from drink, his somber tone was deadly serious.
Celdrahil's change in tone and bearing caused Madoc to stammer. The rogue looked around him and saw that the entire room was now looking to see what would happen. He swallowed hard and answered, "Forgive, Lord! It was not my intention to make light of my errand...especially one that is apparently a service to a noble in the King's court. I just figured the weather was not fit for travel and so I would pursue it in the morning. I have come a long way so far along the Iaur Men Formen and warmth and food would be a nice comfort for the now. I must say it was most unsettling to ride over the Tyrn Gorthad, especially after the shadows I had seen when Gandalf came upon my camp."
There was real fear in the man's eyes and not all of it came from the noble's anger.
:ooc: A couple things for the players who only have a limited Tolkien knowledge:
Iaur Men Formen - the Greenway; a north south road that stretches from Fornost Erain in the North to Gonodor.
Tyrn Gorthad - the Barrow Downs
It's been a long while so here's a couple refreshers:
Dorthad is actually home of Durgil; Dirnhael and Ioreth were given the lands of the disgraced lord, Methilir, when he was slain. They reside in Amaran.
:ooc: Amaran is part of the region of Dorthad wasn't it? Anyway, as you can see Doug, I have tapped back into Celdrahil B-)
Now it was time for the knights mood to take a sudden and rapid change. On hearing the name Mithrandir the Dunedan responded quickly and not in a manner that his tone and stance would have previously forewarned.
He pointed to the barmaid whom he had made eyes at just previously and cursed himself the previous thought of having allowed himself to think of personal pleasures.
"Girl, fetch this man soup and bread as quick as you can. And more beside in a skin of wine for travel."
The knight then pointed to another man of Bree, "You, good yeoman. Head to the post and bring the horse of Celdrahil and another of the post horses for this man. Instruct the ostler to rest this man's horse and send it on when it is rested. Tell him he may inform the watch that Celdrahil of Ithilien in the service of the Steward in need of haste requisitioned the horse."
The two Breelanders stepped quickly at the commands of the Dunadan. "Good Madoc, Mithrandir, whom you name Gandlaf is known to me and I would not have his message delayed in any manner, nor suffer his wrath if he knew that I was the cause or could prevent such delay if I could. Eat while the horses are made ready and you will eat more if you desire it, but in the saddle. I will ride with you."
The knight scanned the room quickly. "I serve the King in Fornost and will conduct this messenger sent from a councilor and friend of the King. I will not scare you, or the town, of dark shadows on the road. I know not the truth of it and have faith in the light of the west besides. The sender of the messenger is known to me and would not send another to do his task if circumstances permitted. So I require haste. Is there any here that would ride north with me now, tonight?"
Nain put his feet down from the chair on which he'd been resting them and stood up. He took the pipe from his mouth as he stepped over to the knight and his messenger.
"Well, I've already eaten and I've a mind to visit with my old friend Dirnhael. Though I can honestly say I wasn't looking forward to a night in the saddle, I'm sure that the hospitality will be equally warm in his house."
:ooc:I don't think that Nain and Celdrahil have ever met so this should be interesting.
:ooc: Yea it will. No, Nain has never met the Gondorian nobleman, Celdrahil.
Understand, too, guys, it is about an 8-10 day ride to Dorthad from Bree. Arthedain Map (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/cotn/map.jpg)
So you may want to take that into consideration when you make conversation about the travel. Hitting the road for 8-10 days in potential rain would not shine too well as the idea of hanging in Bree with good food and shelter.
Madoc turned to see the dwarf, puzzlement on his face. "How many people know this man? Even Dwarves?" he thought to himself. "He must be a noble of great renown!"
The rogue graciously accepted the steaming bowl of soup, thick with vegetables and hunks of beef. A wedge of bread was also on the wooden plate and he broke it and dipped it into the brown stew, only to quickly move it to his mouth despite the steam that came from it. Two more mouthfuls and then Madoc chased it all with a frothy beer. The fare was marvelous. He spoke at last, "Any aid you could offer, Master Dwarf, would be greatly appreciated."
"Perhaps we should wait till morning. Perhaps I don't fully grasp the urgency of the man's quest, but getting lost or injured riding the road in the dark is unlikely to get him there any faster. A fresh start in the daylight, when the man and his horse have had some time to rest, might prove more expedient."
:ooc: Fornost isn't that far. I don't know about you guys, but when Gandalf is in a hurry its usually a pretty big deal.
Quote from: Telcontar on Jan 31, 2014, 05:46 PM:ooc: Fornost isn't that far. I don't know about you guys, but when Gandalf is in a hurry its usually a pretty big deal.
:ooc: Hey, Tom, you are right and I am not meaning to suggest that there is no urgency in Madoc's errand - I just wanted to point out to you guys that your characters are facing a night's ride in the rain if they leave now and that might not be too exciting; the inn being cozy and warm. Just giving you stuff to work with for your PCs' state of mind. ;D
Madoc seemed to like the Dwarf' suggestion as his face eased into a smile, "Ooh yes! That would be an easier ride. What say you, Lord?"
:ooc: well I am kind of backed into a corner here then if we aren't going to leave now. The road isn't going to be as bad as heading out across country. Not sure how to get Celdrahil to stay.
:ooc: You are a nobleman and he is part of the peasantry - he would defer to your decision if ordered. He is also a rogue, so he hasn't spent a lifetime being commanded by people, but that doesn't mean he will stand up against your orders. Play it how you want to play it.
:ooc:Just to be clear, although it may not be clear due to the fact that we're typing here, Nain's suggestion is just that. My intention was to convey that no one wants to go out into the rain on a cold dark night, but he's coming along either way. The only difference will be the color of the language that he uses. And, of course, the description in the stories that he'll tell his grandchildren. Wait...scratch that, the stories will say that they left in the cold rainy night either way... Poetic license and all that. :D
The rain that fell on Bree also cascaded over the city of Fornost Erain. It was here that the subject of Madoc's inquiry found himself, having left his home two weeks prior, along with his now brother-in-law. Dirnhael and Durgil, both noblemen of Arthedain and landholders under the King's rule had come south to report to Argeleb of the northern frontier.
The King demanded word on the condition of his troops along the Angmar border, crop yields, road repairs, brigand activities, and even birth rates if known. Dirnhael and Durgil both endured the long hours within the hall as many of the folk of Arthedain came with news. Dirnhael marveled at the little folk, the Hobbits as they called themselves, whom had taken up residence - with the King's consent - in a western territory of Arthedain that they now called the Shire. They were obviously an industrious people and came with a great tithing of livestock, grains, and news. It was reported that the roads and bridges along the East-West Road had been repaired; law within the Shire was keenly observed; and the folk knew a quiet peace.
It was a far cry different for Durgil and Dirnhael to report when their time came. The frontier with Angmar was ever a turbulent area and both nobles - along with other landholders in the north - strove against lawlessness of brigands and invaders. But for the stout hearts of the Dúnedain, the north would be overrun by the allies of the Witch-king.
Now Dirnhael sat in the quiet study of Durgil's apartment within Fornost - a fire popped and crackled in the hearth. Outside the rain fell and made for an uninviting thought of remounting to head back north. If not for Ioreth, the Dúnadan would remain in the city until the weather had cleared and the roads dried up a bit, instead of sludging through the mud. As he gazed into the flames, Edrahil came into Dirnhael's mind along with another - an old man. A face he recognized, though not as readily as his Sindarin companion. It was Gandalf. In his mind he heard a single word, "Bree."
Durgil, himself, joined his brother, both in heart and by labor, to be comforted by fire and mulled wine. He noticed a queer look wash over him as he stared into the flames but gave it up to the strain of the day and the circumstances of their life these days. Both were men of action and being cooped up playing nobleman was neither's cup of tea.
Celdrahil mulled over the words of his companions. Dorthad was a long way off, but the party could reach Fornost In better time.
"This is not a chance meeting in which a message from Mithrandir finds two friends of Dirnhael in the same inn on the same evening when time is urgent. The road will be easy to follow in the ran and our discomfort pennance for good ale and warm rooms. Madoc, I will take this message tonight if you wish to refuse. There are only a few people on whom I would not let the mater rest until tomorrow, this is one of them. We will make for Fornost."
"I'd best be getting my horse ready as well then."
The dwarf pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and walked out into the rain heading for the stables grumbling about horses, weather, and Men who insisted about riding through the night when there was good ale and a warm dry bunk to be had.
Madoc was not sure as to what he had involved himself in, but he had come far and risked much in crossing the Barrow Downs. Though a fear grew in his heart, he knew he must see it through.
"Let me finish this soup and beer, Lord Celdrahil, and I will see this task done. Your aid along the road, both you and our Dwarf companion, will be greatly appreciated." With that Madoc went to work on the food, spooning large chunks of the stew into his mouth until it was gone. He then made quick work of the bread trencher and knocked back the beer. The man gave a roguish smile to the young woman who took the offered tankard, "Although my wish would be to stay here longer and enjoy this fine inn's fare, I must be off on the road once more. Perhaps when I pass through again you might offer me your name?"
"Perhaps, sir, you would offer your coin for our fine inn's fare?" she winked.
"Ah, yes..." Madoc's hands patted at his pockets and pouches on his belt. "Coin?" Madoc cocked an eye at Nain.
Celdrahil tossed a coin on the table.
" i have dragged you out into the night and accepted this charge as my own." At that point a peel of thunder rolled outside that was deep and long.
"And why dont you add a skin of mulled wine for the road and a cup for each of us before we go."
Nain looked aghast at the rogue's audacious suggestion that he part with a coin. His face was just beginning to flush when the noble's coins landed on the table. It was then that he noticed that his hand had been uncomfortably close to his axe. He prided himself on not being as greedy as many of his people but that didn't mean that he was a spendthrift either.
"Perhaps you shouldn't eat what you can't pay fer yerself."
He calmed himself quickly. Then glared up at the noble.
"Ye might want to keep your new friend in check, he's obviously new to the northern kingdom. He's libel to get himself into trouble."
"The mulled wine will wash away the rough edges when new comers meet. Let us not have a falling out before our boots are even wet"
It took the trio another half hour to collect their things, have the horses (and pony) saddled, and get on their way.
The rain fell and dampened everything that was not covered under oiled leather. They trotted north along the lane that ran at the feet of Bree-hill to the gates, passing Archet, as they did, whose lights glowed in windows along the hill. The wooden gates were closed and it took a minute or two for Celdrahil to find the gatekeep so that they might be opened.
"Half a minute, sir!" a cracked voice called back at the nobleman, who had been yelling at the gatehouse. "T'is not a night fit for beast or man, or gatekeep, for that matter!" The old fellow exited his home and came in naught but a long pajama top and his leather boots. He slopped through the mud and was immediately covered while he went to the large wooden bar that secured the north gate of Bree. "Where you be headin' off to on a night like this?"
Madoc answered for the group, "We'll just be needing your service, gateman, not your questions."
"All right then! No need to be terse!" answered the man. The bar was well greased but still the old gatekeep struggled with the task.
BOOM! BOOM!
The hollow sound was muted by the rain, but still it caught everyone's attention. The gatekeep looked surprised at the trio, "I guess you're not the only ones willing to travel in this." He left the bar halfway undone and opened a small window. "Who's there and what be your business in Bree? Traveling on a night like tonight!"
A muffled voice could just be heard over the rain by the three companions, "I am a traveler and seek refuge at the inn in Bree - the King's Rest."
"Well just be a moment. I have three to come out, too, so patience." The old man went back to his task of wrenching the long bar the rest of the way back so that the east door of the gates could now be swung open. With his thin legs spattered by mud from the road, the gatekeep ran to do just that.
The gate swung open and the three companions now saw a single rider in front of them. He was tall in the saddle and his hooded cloak covered his head. Only two bright eyes could be seen as they caught the sputtering torchlight of the city's lights. He trotted forward as they trotted out.
"Men and Dwarf?" said a voice. It was clear in the rain and had an accent to it that Celdrahil immediately recognized - a hint of the tongue of the Eldar. The figure spoke again, "Nain? Is that you?"
Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo! Now this is another surprise for the night. I am riding in haste to Fornost, Mithrandir has sent word to Dirnahel. The dwarf offered to join me and the man is the bearer of the message."
The Dunadan slipped then back into the common tongue aware now that others in his party would not understand.
"And what brings you out into this rain sodden night?"
"Ai na vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen!" answered the cloaked figure. "I, too, have been sent word from Mithrandir. Apparently it was his intent for us to gather once more - but where do you go? I was told to seek one in Bree, at the King's Rest Inn."
He pushed back his cloak to reveal a handsome Elven face framed in black, wet hair. "Surely I know two of you - Nain - whom I traveled with to the far lands of Rhovanion; and Celdrahil whom I met not long ago just north of here. Well met, I say now to you both. Certainly this is good tidings!" To Madoc, he said, "I am Edrahil - ardent friend and companion of Dirnhael and Durgil."
The old man on the gate interrupted, "So...will you be leaving or are you going to have your gathering here in the middle of the road, on a rain-soaked night? My wife is waitin' and I'd like to get back to the comfort of some dry clothes and a warm hearth."
Nain looked up at the elf, he'd understood enough of what the two had said to get the gist of it. His sindarin was weak at best so he just spoke common. "Well met Elf, it's been quite a while since we traveled together. Though it sounds like we're going to be on the road together again soon. We're on the way to give a message to Dirnhael. Apparently this young cur has spoken with Gandalf who's given him the task. Celdrahil, Madoc, this fine elf is Edrahil, as good an elf as has ever traveled the roads of middle earth and a good friend. The gatekeeper is right, we should be moving along."
:ooc: pretty sure Celdrahil and Edrahil know each other from the last chapter no?
Page 30 chapter 11
:ooc: Nain wouldn't know that though, he's only recently met Celdrahil so he just assumed that they hadn't.
:ooc: no but eldrahil does.
:ooc: sorry, that actually occurred to me after I'd posted my response.
:ooc: I forgot that Celdrahil met Edrahil at the end of our last chapter. I thought I had sent the Elf off to Lindon for a while.
Okay, cool. I have adjusted my post above.
"I intended to make for Fornost rain or no. I do not know the nature of the message, only that its sender was waylaid and the task passed to this man. Our mutal friend is not want to pass his tasks to others, so I assume its pressing and requires attention. What are your plans friend Edrahil? "
"Plan? I have none yet. I feel it was Mithrandir's wish for us to come here. It seems apparent that it was one more of his many contrivances, as the better part of our group is here. No?" The mage cocked an eye at Celdrahil, "I would not be surprised to see our other companions coming along any day now."
"Ahhhhem!" croaked the gate keep.
The Elf gave a fluting laugh, "Fear not, good gatekeep! We shall not keep you waiting any longer." Then back to the other three, "Come, tell me - do you wish to wait and see if Mithrandir has worked more machinations, or do we press our steeds north to Fornost?"
It had not taken long for the two men to gather their things and mount up. The rain continued to pour, but an urgency had fallen on Dirnhael. He had quickly penned a message to Ioreth that his business in Fornost, and now Bree, would keep him longer, but he would be home as soon as was possible. His brother, Durgil, still wondering what the cryptic vision meant followed suit and sent word to his own wife, Gléowyn.
Geoffrey, the servant that tended to Durgil's home in Fornost, watched as the two men rode off into the rainy night. He pulled the door closed with the sound of the hooves disappearing down the street. Only the occasional guard took notice of their passing at this hour and the men were soon down the hill on which Fornost Erain sat atop, and out the gates that protected the city. Dirnhael calculated the time to Bree - at this rate five days.
They found the North-South road and turned their horses south.
Celdrahil pondered for a moment, forces did in deed seem to be mustering at Bree.
"I know not which is the best path, but your arrival here gives me pause. Let us return to the King's Rest and pass the night and see what counsel the day brings."
Quote from: tomcat on Feb 07, 2014, 04:15 PM
It had not taken long for the two men to gather their things and mount up. The rain continued to pour, but an urgency had fallen on Dirnhael. He had quickly penned a message to Ioreth that his business in Fornost, and now Bree, would keep him longer, but he would be home as soon as was possible. His brother, Durgil, still wondering what the cryptic vision meant followed suit and sent word to his own wife, Gléowyn...
They found the North-South road and turned their horses south.
"I am not prone to visions," Dirnahel said softly, looking deeply into the dark, "though nightmares oft come to pass at night. The voices I heard were clear; Edrahil's and Gandalf's."
He shook his head, as if to clear it, then looked at Durgil.
"I know not what awaits us in Bree, but I am glad that you will face it at my side."
:ooc: Got the whole crew here now! ;D
The now quartet turned their horses back south towards the inn. The gatekeep let out a sigh at his disposition only to be rewarded when the Sindar turned, "Hurry home, father, and take this to your good wife for the trouble." Madoc saw something move through the night to land in the old man's hands. The gatekeeper looked up with surprise and wonderment in his face, and then he smiled. "Good night, good sirs!"
The rogue wondered at the treasure that was just dispensed to the old man from an Elf - one of the Eldar! What kind of people was he now dealing with? What were the possibilities for riches that were now before him? What were the dangers? He spurred on Gandalf's horse and followed the rest of the group. A part of him spoke to the other that maybe the old man might need a visit in the wee hours. He shook away such thoughts. That was his old ways...surely he had now changed, as had his fortunes?
Celdrahil pushed open the door to the King's Rest and was greeted by the soft light, warmth, and rich smells of beer and food. The group followed him in and they found themselves a place to sit. The barmaid saw they had returned and came to them, "The weather made you get the better of yourselves?"
Madoc took the lead, "T'is true that the travel proved the worst of choices, but you certainly proved the best of decisions." She smiled her smile she gave to all of the men who tried to solicit her interests, and then she saw the Eldar. The young woman had never before beheld one of the Sindar folk, though she had heard many tales. Her smile faded into a thoughtful stare to which Edrahil smiled back. "My dear lady, we would like your house's best spiced wine and then a couple rooms. Could you see to that?"
She nodded and gave a slight smile and then turned back towards the bar counter and kitchen. It was there that the master of the house laughed with a group of his customers. Once there she spoke to him, pointing to the table as she did. He nodded and spoke words of his own and she returned. "The Master Hanley says it will be four silver pennies for the rooms and dinner. If you wish to leave your wet things we will see they are dried by morning."
:ooc: Hey guys, RP as you'd like but I promise this is not going to be dragged out waiting for everyone to arrive in Bree. I am down with the flu right now and so have little energy except to give you guys a heads up. I will post tomorrow and move our story along.
Nain was only too happy to shed his now soaked traveling cloak and hand it to the human lass along with the silver pennies that she'd requested.
"Thank ye' Miss."
Then he moved off to sit next at the table next to the fire to dry the rest of his cloths. As the others joined him at their table he spoke to the elf.
"It's nice to see ya again, And Thanks to ye fer convincing Celdrahil that this weather isn't fit for man of beast. You'd mentioned getting a message when we met at the gate, how long ago was that?"
"Fear not," the young Dunadan said smiling in the dark. "The ways of elves and wizards are a wonder and mystery. Though we are likely to catch much grief for our absence by our fairer halfs."
Edrahil thought for a moment at Nain's question, "It was three days ago. I was already on the road east when I heard him call to me. Naught was said of the need, only that I was to come to Bree."
"Three days!" cried Madoc, "T'was four nights ago that Gandalf came upon me in my camp. It took me three days to ride here."
"Well than certainly Gandalf has an objective. What is this message he had you bear?"
Madoc drew forth a parchment from his leather tunic. It was folded and a Tengwar G-rune was written on the outer fold. The rogue handed it to Edrahil, a sudden trust within him that he had not felt prior. The Sindar looked at it, "It is Gandalf's writing to be sure, but he had said this was for Dirnhael. Perhaps we should wait until he arrives for us to unseal it."
The companions all agreed and so the message was re-secured, but this time in the hands of the Elf. They chatted into the night until tongues were tired, and then made for the rooms they had rented.
Two days past.
Celdrahil began to fret. Were they sure that Gandalf had sent word to Dirnhael and Durgil, too? If not, they had lost three days of travel, thus far. The Dúnadan began to demand that they think again about leaving Bree, but Edrahil was adamant that time would prove their wait a success. Celdrahil was at least able to convince the group to have a watcher on the road. If the men did not come south within another day, the nobleman said he would leave - even if it was just him alone.
But something did happen that abated Celdrahil's concerns. On the third evening since Madoc had ridden into town, while the companions sat and supped on mutton chops, a new arrival pushed open the door to the King's Rest. He was tall and had golden hair that fell to his shoulders; a trimmed beard covered his face and jawline. Of the four companions, three immediately recognized the man - it was Fengel of the Éothraim.
They all rose to greet him and inquire about his purpose in Bree and like his companions, his reasons were the same. "It was five days past that a dream came to me while I lay sleeping. Mithrandir the wizard appeared to me and said I was needed. He muttered one name, Bree, and the vision faded. I set out that morning."
It would be sundown the next day that the remaining two companions would ride into Bree; Dirnhael and Durgil arrived and made their way to the inn.
Durgil walks into the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the inn. Before joining with Dirnhael, he had given this place his patronage many times while on patrol on the southern borders of the realm. Looking over at one of the great tables, he sees companions new and old including the brother of his lady of favor. "My, my brother. Come see what the warg has dragged in! It seems that Mithrandir has spared none of our friends from this summons!" Removing his travelling cloak, his whispers. "But I see him not, ill tidings this is."
The days of idleness had worn on him as much as they had the knight. It wasn't that he was in a hurry to be on the road again, but he wasn't one for sitting and waiting patiently for things to be done. He didn't realize how sorely his patience had been tested till he felt the excitement flooding him at the appearance of Durgil at the threshold. He tipped up the beer that he'd been nursing, finishing it in one gulp and slammed the cup down on the table.
"Well, it looks like they got the old wizard's message after all."
Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on Feb 10, 2014, 11:34 AM
"Fear not," the young Dunadan said smiling in the dark. "The ways of elves and wizards are a wonder and mystery. Though we are likely to catch much grief for our absence by our fairer halfs."
Dirnhael couldn't help but laugh at the last. "Then we'll grab a few pints in Bree, and give them something to be truly coarse about!"
Quote from: tomcat on Feb 10, 2014, 12:07 PM
But something did happen that abated Celdrahil's concerns. On the third evening since Madoc had ridden into town, while the companions sat and supped on mutton chops, a new arrival pushed open the door to the King's Rest. He was tall and had golden hair that fell to his shoulders; a trimmed beard covered his face and jawline. Of the four companions, three immediately recognized the man - it was Fengel of the Éothraim.
"
Fengel!"
Dirnhael's eyes widened in disbelief and brightened as he grabbed the shoulders of one of his dearest friends.
"What brings you here --
all of us here -- on this night?"
"Riddles from a wizard, it would seem," answered the Éothraim, while returning the embrace. "But the answer to this riddle is him," Fengel pointed to the man that Durgil and Dirnhael did not recognize. "Edrahil tells me that this man, Madoc of Cardolan, has brought a message from Gandalf the Wanderer. A message for you, Dirnhael."
More intrigue crept into Dirnhael's mind, but first more pleasantries were made. Not only was his Sindarin friend and councilor here, but also Nain the Dwarf whom they had not seen since the previous summer, in the far off lands of Rhovanion. Finally Durgil and Dirnhael greeted Celdrahil, their fellow Dúnadan out of Gondor.
When all of the greetings and telling of current affairs had been done, the companions found themselves a quiet table in a private sitting room of the inn. There Master Hanley had them served food and ale and they were at last able to make their council. The note from Gandalf that Madoc had brought north was drawn out and handed to Dirnhael. He saw the characteristic rune that was the wizard's calling card, and opened it to reveal a thin spidery script. As Dirnhael read it, it was as if he could hear the old man's voice in his head.
Dear Dirnhael,
I hope this letter finds you well. I unfortunately am not. It would seem that as I write this a darker will is at work to once more bring the North under a shadow.
It is long since you've been home. The land of your birth - its people fragmented, the blood of Isildur long expired, and devastated by sickness - is now under threat by an even greater trouble. Not only does it threaten your homeland, but if Cardolan should fall into complete ruin than Arthedain, your newly adopted home, could be at risk.
Kin-strife! Famine! Disease! And a darkness out of Rhudaur. You must return home. You and your companions must break the power that grows under a new menace. More I will tell you, but for now I must move. The shadows of men pursue!
In Good Faith,
G
"Well, what does it say. We've been sitting here for days, the least ye could do is tell us what was so important."
:ooc: I think it is safe to Shawn would not have Dirnhael withhold any information.
Dirnhael heard the Dwarf and realized he had read the letter to himself and all his friends' faces now stared at him. He quickly started the short note over, reading it out loud.
Fengel was the first to reply, "It is like my home - you cannot leave it without fear of the Shadows of old tainting it for your return."
Durgil ponders the message for a bit. "Madoc, where is it that you encountered Mithrandir? Can you describe the place?"
"I was encamped on the south end of the Tyrn Gorthad," he answered. All the companions knew the name - the long line of downs just south of Bree upon which sat the barrows of past kings. The North-South road ran directly through them, and it was the very road that Dirnhael had traveled years before with Angbor, Edrahil, and another dwarf named Lûnduf. The road on which he had met Fengel, in a struggle for his life. The road that led out of Tharbad in Cardolan. "I was within a small grove of trees when the old man raced into my camp."
Celdrahil pondered for a moment. He began to speak, but paused and started again in the common speach. His habbit was still not accustomed to speaking first in the westron tongue.
"If this message came from any other I would have shrugged and said the shadow besets all lands where it is not fully dark. Howerver, from our mutual friend it causes me to think longer on it. I am familiar slightly with the location. I passed that way heading north. We could ride south and check it out, perhaps meet Mithrandir along the road. The message is very vague as to what we should be on the look out for."
"As I was thinking, too. Madoc, will you join us? You know whence you came and Mithrandir is not wont to give stewardship of anything to those he deems unfit."
"I know the area well," Dirnhael said, with a faraway look in his eyes. It had been years since he had been in Cardolan, the land where he was raised as an orphan in the house of the Steward, who had sent him to discover a cure to the illness that ravaged the region so long ago. Since then, Angbor -- who had been like a brother -- and Lunduf had been lost... but Edrahil and Fengel had persevered; having them at his side once again brought him comfort.
"It would seem that our meeting was not left to chance," he said. "The Grey Pilgrim only makes requests in the most dire of circumstances."
He paused, and looked at each in turn.
"I will ask none of you to go any further than you will, but together, we are strong -- and if Gandalf vouches for you," he said, looking at Madoc," then that is all the faith I need."
Durgil begs his leave of the table and proceeds to speak with the innkeep, arranging the care and prep of their animals for the journey and provisions for all as well to be ready at sun-up.
"Well then, it sounds like we're going to be kicking off a grand adventure! And nothing starts off a good adventure like a hearty meal and few beers among friend. Innkeep, food and beer for me friends, we're celebrating tonight!"
Quote from: Stefan on Feb 14, 2014, 06:28 AM
"Well then, it sounds like we're going to be kicking off a grand adventure! And nothing starts off a good adventure like a hearty meal and few beers among friend. Innkeep, food and beer for me friends, we're celebrating tonight!"
Dirnhael allowed himself a smile; he had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the boisterous company of Dwarves. He raised a pint to Nain, and all the others, as soon as they were brought to the table.