Days 31-35 March 31 - April 4, Preparations and the road to Bree
Maps. Fengel had spent the last few weeks of the first month of spring looking through a great many scrolls and maps of old Arnor that were buried within the vaults of Fornost. The Éothraim was pleased to see how detailed the cartographers had been in their works and he was even more pleased to glean the information that he could from the loremasters that worked in preserving the ancient lore. Still, he was perplexed. Did he first go to Rivendell and then south to Khazad-dûm, or did he cut through the lands of Cardolan though they be fraught with danger for there still were forces of Angmar prowling the lands. He needed to choose soon for it was his wish to leave by weeks end.
Fengel smiled with the knowledge that after the much needed month of rest, he and his comrades (new and old) would once more set out on the road - a road that would take him back home. Fengel then smiled even more as he thought about his sister, Gléowyn, and how they would soon see each other again. He rolled the map and nodded at the loremaster who nervously stood by, worried that the gruff warrior would damage the old parchment.
Walking quickly from the old library, Fengel decided to seek out Dirnhael and discuss the route; surely his friend would be able to shed some light on which way to take. Besides, he needed a pint of ale and he was sure the Dúnadan did too. Perhaps he would gather all his friends.
Not far away, Dirnhael stood in the stables that were attached to the royal grounds, brushing down the flanks of his mare. He was lost in thought as he stroked the animal's fur, remembering how the good beast had carried him from Tharbad seemingly so long ago to the cold wastes of Angmar and then back again. He thought of Angbor and how the young man had struggled along with him only to die in a town that the world had forgotten. Then Lûnduf came to his mind and Dirnhael gritted his teeth thinking of the Dwarf's bravery and sacrifice. He did not notice her as she quietly walked up and stood there watching him.
Dirnhael slightly jumped as her voice broke his thoughts, "You are leaving soon aren't you?"
The newly dubbed Knight of Fornost turned to see Ioreth, tears welling in her eyes. "You have not spoken of it but I know that Fengel chafes to be away - and I know you will follow..."
Her voice trembled and Dirnhael felt his heart wrench. He was torn...
Nain pulled the metal spike from the forge, it glowed orange and emanated great heat. It was a fine piece of work. It would make a good gift.
With a hiss of steam, the spear tip dropped into the barrel and Nain removed his heavy leather gloves. A tall man stood by him watching eagerly the Dwarf's every move. He handed to Nain the long wooden shaft and the Dwarf looked down its length to see if there were any imperfections. The wood craftsman had done a fine job. Nain was pleased.
He pulled the metal barb from the water and slid it on to the end of the haft, "A fine weapon Master Dwarf!" said the onlooker, "A fine weapon."
Nain nodded to his companion with a smile and set about securing the tip.
Durgil had spent the last few days at the garrison barracks, since the argument with his father. He found a greater rapport amongst the warriors of his country then the noble politicos that filled the king's halls. Besides, his father had a way of deriding him in all things that were not of a suitable nature for someone born of noble blood.
Durgil's father's bloodline was not descended of the line of Isildur or Elendil before him, but their family was sired by a Lord of Andúnië who had remained faithful to both the Valar and to the Númenorean lord that had guided them back to Middle-earth. Durgil would never sit on the throne of Arthedain, but his noble line, as far as his father was concerned, better served the land in court instead of on the fields of battle. This thought made the young Dúnadan shake his head for his forefathers had served the king in many capacities and one had even accompanied Elendil himself in the Last Alliance that brought down the mighty Dark Lord.
Durgil shook off his gloomy thoughts and turned to his comrades that stood about; their conversation was much more intriguing. He was just catching up with their talk when Fengel strode into the barracks...
OOC: I want to get some dialogue from you all regarding the new journey. A map is attached to this post for you to discuss direction, and for story purposes, give me some closures on your lives here in Fornost (i.e. goodbyes to Ioreth, Durgil's father (if you want too ;D)).
Second, start giving me preparations of the journey - what you all want to bring (has to fit on a horse) and when you wish to depart. Fengel would like to be on the way within the week (Palandil can adjust this as he pleases).
Lastly, I would love for you guys to write up and name the horses that you all ride (a pony for Nain?) - you may give the animals 3 advancements per the FB&WM sourcebook.
I may add more here as I think of it...
"Ah, Fengel.. come join us. Daled here was just regaling us with a story about his 3-day reprieve," said Durgil. The men at the table begin to laugh at something obviously humorous from their friend's story.
OOC: Can we tweak the attributes of the horse template a little before applying the advancements? I just want to give my riding horse 4 Bearing instead of 2 without eating up all the advancement picks.
OOC: No problem Matt.
Proud of the new wepon he had made he took it to Daelhun and gave the gift to him. It was a sad parting of ways but Nain was preparing to head out on the road again and Daelhun would be staying. He was a soldier and his post was here. Once the goodbyes were said Nain left the barracks hoping that the gift would keep his friend alive and help him to stave off the menacing armies of Angmar a little longer.
Nain left with a feeling of sadness at leaving his friend but also a budding excitement at getting to travel once again. He had already brought out his armor and the axe that had served him so well. He had repaired them and made them like new. As he walked through the market looking for the things that he would take he thought about seeing Kazad'dum and his excitement grew.
He stopped at a stable at the edge of the market and purchased a pony. He was far from thrilled at the though of riding the beast but it would be far less tiresome than walking, and it was a long walk. The stablemaster mentioned that the animals name was Jethro and that he liked an apple now and then. Nain grunted and took the riens. Jethro seemed happy enough with the whole thing. Nain purchased a whole sack of apples on the way back to his room.
"These arent for you so dont go getting any ideas."
The pony snorted but was quiet on the rest of the walk back to the forge. When they got there Nain laid down the sack only to discover that Jethro had bitten a hole in it and taken one of the apples.
"Why you....I oughtta turn you into glue."
Jethro just whinnied and pranced into the waiting stall. Nain slammed the door pretending to be angry, but he was happy so even the beasts impertinence couldnt bring him down. He went up to his room and began packing the things that he would need. A small repair kit for armor and weapons, some spare cloths, some rope, flint and steel and a couple of pans in case there was something to cook. He also packed some dried meat and hard tack in case the hunting went badly. A few blankets rolled up for warmth in the night and he was ready for the trip. Everything packed away where it belonged and ready to be tied onto the new saddle.
OOC: Great post Stefan! (or Kory... I never know what name to use ;D)
Fengel walks over to the men and finds a seat. "Three day reprieve, ay?", he says with a curious grin.
OOC: I don't have FB&WM, and can I assume Fengel's horse is a warhorse?
OOC: All horses in the Company are Riding Horses in the FB&WM, or just Horse in the CRB.
"You look as though you could use a drink," commented Durgil, leaving and then returning with another mug of the men's ale. Daled's tale wound on, from moderately plausible to downright unbelievable if you really knew the man. It was entertaining enough but Durgil soon wearied of it and pulled Fengel aside. "Do I guess rightly that you mean to leave soon? If so, my captains have given me leave to journey with you. Some, including Camentir, feel that the Last Alliance shouldn't have been called so and wish to both entreat upon our allies and friends of old and possibly new ones to come to the aid of our realm -- of the all the free people in the North. Do you think its possible we could count on aid from your people?"
Contact me via IM or email if you need access to the books.
email between the hours of 11am-8pm CST = shawn.weisz@sei-it.com
Otherwise see my contact info.
Quote from: tomcat on Nov 03, 2005, 06:21 PM
OOC: Hey Matt, he looks great and I am fine with the Order given. The only thing I am going to do is limit the effect of his Speed special ability. Since this horse is neither an Elven Steed or a Mearas, the speed will function as stated based on the following:
1 Pick - may maintain pace from Speed for a number of minutes equal to 1/2 x Vitality attribute
2 Pick - may maintain pace from Speed for a number of minutes equal to 1 x Vitality attribute
3 Pick - may maintain pace from Speed for a number of minutes equal to 1.5 x Vitality attribute
OOC: No problem, sounds good.
Quote from: tomcat on Nov 02, 2005, 06:10 PM
Days 31-35 March 31 - April 4, Preparations and the road to Bree
Not far away, Dirnhael stood in the stables that were attached to the royal grounds, brushing down the flanks of his mare. He was lost in thought as he stroked the animal's fur, remembering how the good beast had carried him from Tharbad seemingly so long ago to the cold wastes of Angmar and then back again. He thought of Angbor and how the young man had struggled along with him only to die in a town that the world had forgotten. Then Lûnduf came to his mind and Dirnhael gritted his teeth thinking of the Dwarf's bravery and sacrifice. He did not notice her as she quietly walked up and stood there watching him.
Dirnhael slightly jumped as her voice broke his thoughts, "You are leaving soon aren't you?"
The newly dubbed Knight of Fornost turned to see Ioreth, tears welling in her eyes. "You have not spoken of it but I know that Fengel chafes to be away - and I know you will follow..."
Her voice trembled and Dirnhael felt his heart wrench. He was torn...
He looked into the eyes of the woman who had stolen his heart so completely. She already knew what he must do - was he so transparent?
"Ioreth", he said quietly, "without these men, I would not stand here today. Scatha would be scouring these lands as we speak, your people would be rife with disease and your great captain would have been lost."
He smiled and held her hands in his.
"And, I never would have beheld you that day. For that alone, I owe these men whatever protection and guidance I may give."
He didn't want to leave, but if he didn't, he knew he would regret it. Ioreth managed a wan smile and Dirnhael knew she understood. She was a Dunedain woman of legend - strong and steadfast. He was proud she had chosen him.
"I will come back to you," he said, and holding her hands tightly to his chest, he buried his face in her coal-black hair and whispered.
"I swear it."
***
He heard them in the pub later that day.
As he walked through the door, farmers and smiths turned to look at the newest Knight of Fornost and murmured. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and each time made Dirnhael more uncomfortable then the last.
He smiled a diplomatic smile and forced himself to raise his hand in acknowledgement of the small throng.
That seemed to placate them, and Dirnhael slipped through the crowd as quickly as he could and grabbed a chair at his companions' table.
They seemed to take much pleasure in Dirnhael's discomfort.
Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on Nov 03, 2005, 05:52 PM
"You look as though you could use a drink," commented Durgil, leaving and then returning with another mug of the men's ale. Daled's tale wound on, from moderately plausible to downright unbelievable if you really knew the man. It was entertaining enough but Durgil soon wearied of it and pulled Fengel aside. "Do I guess rightly that you mean to leave soon? If so, my captains have given me leave to journey with you. Some, including Camentir, feel that the Last Alliance shouldn't have been called so and wish to both entreat upon our allies and friends of old and possibly new ones to come to the aid of our realm -- of the all the free people in the North. Do you think its possible we could count on aid from your people?"
"Yes, I can't wait any longer. I'm glad that you will ride with me. It would do Lunduf honor before his people to see that he had freinds who fought bravely beside him." With a pause Fengel continues, his demeaner saddened "The plague hit our lands the year before, and half of our people perished. I don't think they can provide any help as there are too few to guard our own lands."
Standing Fengel says,"As to our route I would like to travel by way of Rivendel, but I was hoping you could help me find Dirnhael and the others that we may finalize our plans."
Quote from: sdrotar on Nov 04, 2005, 08:14 PM
He heard them in the pub later that day.
As he walked through the door, farmers and smiths turned to look at the newest Knight of Fornost and murmured. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and each time made Dirnhael more uncomfortable then the last.
He smiled a diplomatic smile and forced himself to raise his hand in acknowledgement of the small throng.
That seemed to placate them, and Dirnhael slipped through the crowd as quickly as he could and grabbed a chair at his companions' table.
They seemed to take much pleasure in Dirnhael's discomfort.
Seeing Dirnhael enter and the greeting that he received Fengel stands and bellows out looking around at the crowd, "Alas, our brave and valient knight of Fornost who has stayed the hand of the Witch King and deterred his foul dragon!." Returning to his seat, "Come join your comrades as we once again drink a round to our fallen comrades Angbor and Lunduf."
The clink of crockery could be heard about the trio as the crowd began to dwindle in the tavern. They had sat and talked a great deal about the upcoming trek to, first, Khazad-dûm and from there to the lands south-east of Greenwood the Great and all seemed content with the course.
It was only the three Men that had traveled to Angmar - Edrahil and Nain were not around and Fengel was only aware of the choice of one. The Dwarf craftmaster had been eager to be part of the new journey, at least to the great city of his people.
They continued their conversation all making queries on whether the Sindarin mage would also be part of this journey but no one knew what Edrahil would wish to do. And as if he had heard his name being spoken, the Elf walked into the tavern and gracefully strode across the room to come to take the offered seat by the three Men.
Edrahil quietly listened to Fengel as he told of his intentions to make the journey first to Khazad-dûm and hopefully be given leave to pass through the city to the far side of the Misty Mountains, close to his homeland. The Éothraim began to continue, but the soft voice of Edrahil broke in...
"We will go to Moria to pay the respects due Lûnduf, but I do not think we should count on the hospitality of the Folk of Durin. Though Lûnduf was a boon companion and Nain is proving himself to be equal in many ways to our fallen comrade, I do not believe that the Dwarrowdelf will be made open to us."
"Why Edrahil?" asked Dirnhael.
Thus Edrahil began to recount what he knew of the history (as known by the Elves) of Eregion and the relation that was had with Moria, as he now referred to it.
"In 1697 S.A., the Dark Lord Sauron made war on the Noldorin Elves of Eregion and when aid was needed, be it of armies and weapons, or merely to allow refugees to flee from the ravaging orc hordes, the king of Khazad-dûm did deny entry into his realm and his gates were shut. Countless Elves were slain and from that day forward, the Dwarven city was renamed by us... Moria, the black chasm."
Edrahil continued, though he never displayed any emotion as he recounted his tale, "It was said that the Dark Lord had captured the many wondrous rings created by Celebrimbor, one of the greatest craftsman since Fëanor had walked Middle-earth. The Lord of the Rings then bestowed these gifts to nine rulers of Men and to the seven houses of Dwarves. We know what became of the Men - they succumbed to the power of the Dark Lord and became his Fell Servants, the Nazgûl. But little is known of what befell the Dwarves, only that they became more hidden, guarding their wealth, and closing off their associations with the other Free Peoples. Now we only see them in small groups of traders, or the occasional emissary, as Lûnduf and his comrade were. I do not believe that the folk of Durin will willingly open their doors to us, even today, though members of his folk may venture forth."
"We also don't even know of the condition of the road going south from Imladris and the environs I hear are quite hostile," said Durgil. "Isn't there another pass over the Mountains?"
"The only way I know of is the path I took around the Misty Mountains, but the lands have grown much more perilous since. But, unless someone knows of another way, that is the way I must go if this, Durin, will not allow us to pass."
"There is the pass of Caradhras, but to attempt it would be foolhardy. We could stay on the open plain and travel up the river Isen - the way would be clear, but the journey would take us far south."
He looked around the table and smiled - while he would miss Ioreth dearly, he longed for the wilderness - away from halls and politics and nobles.
Durgil was so unlike his father, Dirnhael mused. He decided that was likely for the best.
Ambition was not a trait that Dirnhael held in much regard; he would simply rather see things done, and let the doing take him where it will.
He was happy to be joining his friends on the road once more, even though it would end honoring a fallen one and with Fengel departing.
Days were precious - that lesson Dirnhael had learned dearly. He would enjoy whatever time was given him.
"Perhaps we should make for the Great East Road towards Rivendell. There we will surely find more news that may help us decide the best route hence."
At that moment, Dirnhael realized that if he were to leave, he needed to find a new blade...
"Can we be ready to travel in a couple of days? I can not bear this waiting any longer. Though I do understand the pain for those of you who would be leaving loved ones behind again."
"If so much is uncertain, Elrond may be able to counsel us on a path to take," says Durgil. "Let us make for Imladris and then decide which way to go there."
----
"I am ready when you are."
Edrahil nodded at both Dirnhael's and Durgil's suggestion; in Imladris they would be able to determine the best path forward.
All in agreement, they stood and joined the rest of the remaining patrons in mingling out into the night. It was a cool evening and the stars shone brightly overhead. The quartet turned back towards the city's center and the small apartments that had been afforded them during their time here.
With whispered goodnights, they all agreed that they would depart in the morning with the rising of the sun.
Sleep did not come easy to Fengel because of thoughts of the coming morning, but when he finally fell asleep his dreams were filled with memories of home.
After a deep sleep Fengel awoke well before the sun, refreshed and eager for the day. He finished packing, and lifted Cerduil. Pulling the blade from the sheath he thought he should offer the sword to Dirnhael, for it was truely a nobles blade. With a nod to himself, he strapped the sword around his waist and headed to the stable to care for Heostor. The morning air caused his senses to come alive with anticipation and then he thought of his companions. Their decision to travel with him made his heart glad, "Such good friends...".
Dirnhael spent a quiet evening with Ioreth - the last they would spend together for a long while, and both lamented it - but only for a moment.
She knew he had to leave, and why, and so they never spoke of it.
He promised to bring her something from his travels as a memento, and she presented him with a fine cloak that she had sewn to keep him warm on the road and a longsword that she had gotten from the smithy the day before.
Dirnhael marveled at his good fortune while gazing into her deep eyes once more. He did not know where the paths of his life would take him, but he knew that he would no longer take them alone.
When he returned, they would be wed, and they both rejoiced at the notion.
She took his hand and led him to the veranda, overlooking the beautiful and now silent city of the Dunedain. Fires from hearths across the city sparkled; the small flickering points of light as a reflection of the very stars above.
As the cool mist glided through and collected in the cobblestone streets of Fornost, the two lovers watched it glisten in the moonlight, holding each other and staring out together toward an uncertain future...
OOC: Hey all! I will be gone until Saturday night.
Quote from: Palandil on Nov 10, 2005, 04:34 PM
OOC: Hey all! I will be gone until Saturday night.
...and I will be from Saturday until next Thursday...
and i'll be....right here....damnit.
The mention of his kin too Nain's mind once again off the pastering nag and brought it back to the conversatoin.
"What's this? My kin would never bar the way against me. I'm sure that I can convince him to allow my companions passage as well."
This last bit said with a special glare for the new elf.