Celdrahil had finished the last leg of his journey and his hind end was saddle-weary. Still, he only had another couple miles to go before he made it to Dorthad.
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 acknowledment 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. Now, with day three of his ride drawing into dusk, he saw the house of Durgil sitting in the distance and an audible sigh of relief came from him. It was then that the Dúnadan heard the hard clop of horse hooves running at a good pace. Celdrahil pulled back on his reins to turn his mount only to see the visage of man charging up the road. With no understanding of his intentions, Celdrahil loosened his sword from its scabbard as the haggard-looking rider came forth.
Madoc, upon his mount, saw the rider before him come about and the blade that was now drawn. It gleemed with the gray light of dusk.
Cedrahil in the time he spent in the north was less prone to use the Sindarian of his homeland, though he was somewhat loathe to do so. Part of it was Elendili pride, and part of it a result of his upbringing and station. Though since it was seldom spoken by the common people of Arnor he had by necessity to speak the Common tongue more often, especially if wanted to be understood quickly. So unless he knew his audience or wanted to make a point he spoke the common tongue.
The ring of his sword when he drew it was comforting, he had scant opportunity to draw it of late and his hand felt better for the familiar feel of it.
"Halt there rider! Who rides upon the marches of Arnor in the fief of Durgil of Dorthad with such haste, and what is your errand?"
:ooc: Hey Tom, to clarify - is it Celdrahil or Cedrahil? The character sheet says Celdrahil. ':}
:ooc: Celdrahil, it would help if i could spell my own name. stupid common.
Madoc pulled back on the reins as he saw the gleam of the sword. His first thought was to his bow, but he knew it would not be of much use for defense if the man attacked, so his hand went to the hilt of his sword, though he did not draw.
The man's speech seemed strange to Madoc - a bit archaic and courtly. "Dorthad? Do you know of a man named Dirnhael? I've been asked by a friend of his to deliver a message to him. Put away your sword and answer - we are not enemies 'less you make it so."
Celdrahil stood his ground as the man pulled up before him.
"My sword is not yours to command, whatever its position, and I am the one asking questions here along the Kings Road while we are upon the marches of the enemy. If it is Lord Dirnhael that you speak of then yes I know where to find him. What friend is this that has sent you on such an errand and at such haste?"
"My mouth is not yours to command either, friend, whether this be the King's Road or no," Madoc replied, his jaw set firmly. He was doing his best not to get riled up at the man's abrasive questioning, with limited success. "Besides, how do I know whether you are indeed not an ememy? For all I know, you are an enemy to Dirnhael who wishes him harm. I will answer your questions, but only to Dirnhael. Now you'd best lead me to him or let me pass and I will find him on my own."
:ooc: I just love the meetings of new friends! (-D
"You ride upon me in the night, unannounced, along the border lands of a nation at war making demands. By your look you are not kith or kin of the Lord whom you seek, and whether you were sword companions or not addressing him common along the road to others is impolite. From time before the folk of your blood rooted around in caves painting each other blue we have fought the dark enemy, and here in the lands of our exile I'll not suffer such discourtesy. I care not to know the nature or substance of your private correspondonce, but I'll have assurances that your intent is honest, though your manners be absent.
I am Lord Celdrahil of Ithilien, en route to Lord Dirnhael's house, put up your sword as a token of your good intent and I'll escort you to his house where this matter may be judged and your intentions determined."
:ooc: Sorry man Celdrahil gets defensive on the road and is kind of a dick sometimes. He means well though and from his perspective some crazy guy just rode up in the dark looking for his friend not far from the border of the witch king.
:ooc: I like his aristocracy. ;D
Old Dúnedain blood that is not used to the northern manner.
Madoc grimaced at Celdrahil's insults to his people, but pulled his hand away from his sword. "Manners matter little now in Cardolan. It may be that I've grown 'impolite,' but a fair face may hide a foul heart."
Madoc gently spurred his steed onward. "But if you are Dunedain, as I guess, and an enemy of evil, then you are my friend - I have fought many of its servants these past years."
As he drew near to Celdrahil, Madoc extended a hand in greeting, dirty as it was from his travel, "I am called Madoc. I hope you don't mind my calling you just Celdrahil, for in dark days lordship is earned, and I have yet to see your mettle."
:ooc: No offense taken. Madoc would probably do the same. ;D So, aristocracy and peasantry meet - should be interesting!
:ooc: I am enjoying this, guys! I really like good roleplaying and this is it.
Just as an aside, and not meant to criticize, so please do not take it as such, but a lesson in Tolkien languages:
The terms Dúnedain and Dúnadan are the same but one is plural and the other singular, repsectively. Dúnedain meaning Men of the West, and Dúnadan meaning Man of the West.
- as in -
adan meaning man
edain meaning men
Dún meaning West
So, Dirnhael is a Dúnadan among Dúnedain
You may already be learned in Tolkien's languages and not need this, but if not, I just wanted to add this so that when you guys post you have the context the way you want it.
Okay, lesson over - back to gaming!
Celdrahil sheathed his sword and picked up his spear he had planted in the ground. While the sword was his weapon of choice the reach of a spear while mounted couldnt not be denied.
He looked at this traveler who had come upon him on the road, "let us first determine the nature of our relationship before determining terms for address." He turned his horse around without taking the offered hand.
"The House of Lord Dirnhael is near, for you ride near his lands now. You will find him a good host if your intentions are good. Keep in mind a message is often received by the bearing of its carrier and whether you recognize a man or not his title means something to him."
:ooc: Another note, you guys are in Dorthad, which is Durgil's land. Dirnhael and his wife Ioreth live east of Dorthad in Amaran.
Quote from: Nolmir on Apr 25, 2011, 11:29 AM
:ooc: No offense taken. Madoc would probably do the same. ;D So, aristocracy and peasantry meet - should be interesting!
:ooc: Dirnhael is now part of the aristocracy, but at heart, he's still a adopted peasant boy from the Cardolan region himself. He's going to have an interesting time balancing these two fellows... :)
Quote from: sdrotar on Apr 26, 2011, 02:28 AM:ooc: Dirnhael is now part of the aristocracy, but at heart, he's still a adopted peasant boy from the Cardolan region himself. He's going to have an interesting time balancing these two fellows... :)
:ooc: I just want to point out geneology of Dirnhael, or maybe pedigree is the right word, so there is no mistaking the term adopted... Dirnhael is a full-blooded Dúnadan, born of Ardil. Ardil was of the folk of Cardolan and when he died, his son was taken into the house of another full-blooded Dúnadan, named Celephain (pronounced Kelafane - not the word for saran wrap (-D ). The people of Cardolan were considered country, but gentry, as they were far from Anúminas and later Fornost. Tharbad was considered a major trade city, but it still was out on the peripheree with the true aristocracy up north. As for Rhudaur, well that was even a step lower.
I give this info for continuity and for the basic reasons as to why Dirnhael was knighted in Argeleb's court and was able to marry a woman, Durgil's sister, with their noble lineage. Of course, there are other reasons too - like the fact that Dirnhael faced every danger bringing home a salvation for the prince; turns out he is a good warrior; Ioreth and he fell in love; etc. ;)
Quote from: tomcat on Apr 25, 2011, 11:51 AM
:ooc: I am enjoying this, guys! I really like good roleplaying and this is it.
Just as an aside, and not meant to criticize, so please do not take it as such, but a lesson in Tolkien languages:
The terms Dúnedain and Dúnadan are the same but one is plural and the other singular, repsectively. Dúnedain meaning Men of the West, and Dúnadan meaning Man of the West.
- as in -
adan meaning man
edain meaning men
Dún meaning West
So, Dirnhael is a Dúnadan among Dúnedain
You may already be learned in Tolkien's languages and not need this, but if not, I just wanted to add this so that when you guys post you have the context the way you want it.
Okay, lesson over - back to gaming!
:ooc: I knew the basics of the word (men of the west), but somehow hadn't made the distinction between singular and plural... Good info.
Madoc bristled at Celdrahil's ignoring of his proffered hand.
"My mum used to say 'small pigeons can carry great messages.' A man's worth is not determined by his appearance or manner, Dunadan.
"But enough of this. We'd best get the message I carry to Lord Dirnhael as quickly as we can," he said, putting undue emphasis on the word "lord." This noble was quickly changing from a threat to an annoyance in Madoc's mind.
Celdrahil took no notice of the sarcasim in the messangers voice in using the word Lord, "I see you can learn, that's good. Where in Cardolan are you from? I traveled through there upon a time. I was in the marches of the west near Larach Duhnnan. Some of my people still dwell out that way and the Dunmen occasionnly need to be reminded that they do not yet own everything, from there i moved further north past old Eregion and the border of old Rhuduar hunting orcs. The shadow creeps between every crack in both the north and south Kingdoms, like water that finds its way in and then freezes making the breach wider. You are now near the northern border of Arnor, and not far from here the Witch King plots the downfall of my cousins of the north. We are, as a result, cautious and ambush and intrigue are not unknown upon the road.
I see that hastes drives you, we can ride through the night if necessary. I have come from Fornost and heard of no such pressing need of the crown for Lord Dirnhael so I am assuming its not through official channels."
:ooc: Tomcat, not sure where we are or where we are going. So I dont know if its worth it or not to keep ridding. So its up to you on that one.
"I am from the land near Tharbad. That is where my lord held his land before being killed by the plague," Madoc said. "I know all too well of the shadow and its servants - ever since the decline of the Dunedain of Cardolan, my people have had to fight to survive. Those that survive of my kin must use caution also. While this is a border with the deserted wastes that evil claims, my home is quickly becoming that waste, so do not speak to me of caution as if I do not know of it."
He studied the Dunadan as he spoke. The man was obviously not easily deterred or fazed, but Madoc also thought it appeared he thought a bit too much of himself.
"And aye, haste does drive me. The one that sent me with my message was very firm on that, and I have been convinced of its need. As far as I know, he does not work through 'official channels.' So we best hurry."
Celdrahil made no further conversation along the ride, his horse's pace increased a bit but soon set into a rhythm that ate up the road before him.
#:S
:ooc: Wheew! I was worried that the story might end before it began with the pride of two men taking to swords and gutting one another! ;)
No, just kidding! I liked the initial interaction. Celdrahil is going to be a real pill, Tom!
In answer to where you are, here is the map that I posted before with a picture of the two counties - Dorthad and Amaran - and where you guys are on the road.
:ooc: I am going to assume then that even if we ride through the night we wouldnt make it, but hat a solid push deep into torrow would. if my distances are off I'll adjust the post.
Celdrahil steered his mount towards Durgil's home, "Ahead is the home of Lord Durgil of Dorthad. We can find shelter there, he is the warden of the North Marches. From there we can arise early and make Dirnhael's fief late into the evening tomorrow. The road is in ill repair after the winter and taking the horses at night may make for longer delays."
:ooc: ;D 3,000 years of family history is a heavy burden.
Quote from: Nolmir on Apr 26, 2011, 11:27 AM
"I am from the land near Tharbad. That is where my lord held his land before being killed by the plague," Madoc said.
:ooc:
Looove that stuff we RP'd almost eight years ago still comes into play with completely new characters! For those of you who are new (or
newer) to the story, Dirnhael was originally sent out from Tharbad to find a cure for that plague. Eventually, he and his companions did - though at great cost - and it's terrific that the effects of that first adventure still "live" in our little world. :)
Quote from: sdrotar on Apr 26, 2011, 05:59 PM
Quote from: Nolmir on Apr 26, 2011, 11:27 AM
"I am from the land near Tharbad. That is where my lord held his land before being killed by the plague," Madoc said.
:ooc: Looove that stuff we RP'd almost eight years ago still comes into play with completely new characters! For those of you who are new (or newer) to the story, Dirnhael was originally sent out from Tharbad to find a cure for that plague. Eventually, he and his companions did - though at great cost - and it's terrific that the effects of that first adventure still "live" in our little world. :)
:ooc: It's definitely one of the great things about rpg's - your adventures actually can shape the game's world. That was actually one of the reasons I wanted to play a character from Cardolan. ;D
Celdrahil and Madoc were warmly received in the house of Durgil and Gléowyn.
"Welcome home, friend," said Durgil as he grasped Celdrahil's arm. He offered Madoc a nod and a smile, "You are a traveling companion?"
The Dúnadan noble from Ithillien explained the two traveler's meeting and Durgil was immediately intrigued with Madoc's errand and inquired as to its source, "You have ridden far and rapidly... who would set you on a trail with such haste as if the hosts of Angmar ride after you?"
:ooc: How far of a ride is it from here to Dirnhael's house?
Quote"Welcome home, friend," said Durgil as he grasped Celdrahil's arm. He offered Madoc a nod and a smile, "You are a traveling companion?"
"Something like that," Madoc said, smiling somewhat, as the noble had no idea of how Celdhrahil and he had gotten on.
He hesitated more at the noble's second question. "No offense intended, but I'd rather not say. I was told the message was for Dirnhael, and there's no way of knowing, beyond your word, that you are not his enemies. You seem kind, and I'm most likely being a bit too distrustful, but I don't know you. I think it's best for me to just say that my errand is important and urgent. I welcome any aid you're willing to provide, but until I reach Dirnhael, I'll keep the details to myself."
Durgil looked at Madoc. If he was put off by his new guest's remark, it did not show on his face, but Madoc could sense that there was more behind the noble's eyes now. The lord of the house merely said, in a halting fashion, "As you will... but know you this, Dirnhael is my brother-in-law by marriage with my beloved sister, and the two of us have bled on the field side-by-side as the forces of Angmar swelled around us. The only issue of trust that I have is with a stranger in my home judging my intentions." Durgil's voice had changed slightly from warm to more stern. "T'was not a year past that assassins were set upon my brother and his companions on the road from Fornost, while I languished within prison due to anothers greed. All the while Dirnhael sought to keep safe my lands, my family, and the strength of unity of our kingdom. So know this Madoc, you are a guest in my house and will be well treated and tended, and your errand may remain a mystery until we come to my brother's home two days hence. But it is your secrecy on this matter that will maintain a vigilance of your intentions."
Durgil's mood softened, "This said," he paused as he once more sized up the man of Cardolan. "I admire your honour in keeping to the duty that you have taken upon yourself, and keeping it safe. Come... let me see you to quarters where you may freshen yourselves from your travels and then we will sup."
The noble led them further into Dorthad's manor and Madoc was impressed. It was not a castle and had scant fortifications. It was a home and it was warm and inviting and became even moreso when he at last met the lady of the house - Gléowyn. From her stature and her long golden hair, Madoc knew she was not of Dúnadan blood. She was beautiful and elegant and her voice pleasant as she spoke, "Welcome home, Celdrahil. T'is wonderful to see you safely back from your errand that my husband sent you on. You would think he would allow you rest and send one of our other messengers." She then looked at Madoc and smiled, "I welcome you to our home, Madoc of Cardolan. May you find rest here from your long road."
Through an arched passage, the sounds and smells of a table being set pervaded the room. Madoc could smell fresh baked food and meat that had not been just spitted, but also seasoned. His stomach audibly grumbled and a look of embarrassment crossed his face. Gléowyn giggled and said, "Come let us eat before our guest wastes away."
:ooc: RP how you would like here, but I will move the story on with a new thread a little later on (especially if I see no converstiaon desired).
"My Lady, the open road is good for me. I am not yet ready for a hearth and home of my own, and the road reminds me that I have much traveling left to do before then. As always, it is a pleasure to rest here in your home as a refuge and sanctuary."
Celdrahil will observe all the formalities of the table during dinner. His aloofness alone would be warning enough to his hosts and friends that he does not yet trust the companion he entered their home with.
When dinner was concluded Celdrahil took the opportunity to discuss several general things with Lord Durgil.
"Lord Durgil, while I always welcome the chance to travel this land and some messages are better received with a messenger it may be time we established a pigeon service here within your fief. It is used quite effectively on the borders of the dark land in Ithilien. Of course sensitive materials are not always secure, but when speed is of the essence it has its advantages. I would recommend several stations, one here at your home, one with Durgil and your chief Lieutenants, another with the Marshall of the North, and the last with Fornost itself."
Celdarhil then smiled and picked up what must have been a familiar thread between the two, "I also again encourage you to construct at least the semblance of a wall around your home. If for nothing else than to keep the cows out of the living room. I took the opportunity while in Fornost to also address with the Steward several other recommendations and ideas for the upcoming year, but we can save those for another time."
"Thank you - you're a very gracious hostess," Madoc replied to Gleowyn, though even as he said it, he sensed that his rough country manners were not sufficient in a home like this.
It had been some time since Madoc had enjoyed the merriment and fellowship of a home such as this, and he took every opportunity to enjoy it, even as he knew he was not necessarily welcomed by all of the participants. He stuffed himself nearly to the gills with food and told a glossed-over version of his travels and adventures to those who wished to hear. He skipped over the details of times when he had needed to steal in order to survive, among other dishonorable exploits that he knew his hosts would not understand, and he stopped before he reached his encounter with Gandalf.
After dinner, Madoc approached Durgil and Celdrahil during their conversation, inserting himself as they finished. "I hope you have not not misjudged me, Durgil. I don't believe you are a bad man, but if you are Dirnhael's friend, then you should understand that I have his (and my) best interests at heart, however much that might hurt your pride or honor or whatever you want to call it. I would value and honor your friendship, but until I have had a chance to judge the measure of you, I'd best reserve my judgment and my friendship. I hope you understand."
The Dúnadan noble looked at Madoc, his eyes studynig the man. The man of Cardolan was a commoner of Eriadorian stock. It was evident that he was no courtier for his manners left much to be desired. He then spoke, "I believe that I have been insulted in my own home. Reserve your judgement as you will, Madoc, but understand, until you have proven yourself, my judgement is reserved, too." Durgil stood, "I hope you understand."
He began to walk from the room, "Come Celdrahil, we will speak more of your ideas. Madoc, my steward shall show you to the chambers that we have made ready for you. We shall call you early in the morning, for the ride to Amaran will take two days and I want to make sure that your message is delivered."
The two Dúnedain left the room leaving Madoc alone. Another man entered, it was the steward of Durgil's house, "Sir, if you will follow me."
The next morning came and Madoc was indeed called early. The sun was only beginning to light the sky, but Durgil's house was full with activity.
Madoc found his things arrayed on a table, not where he had put them. His clothes were freshly cleaned, mended and dried; his weapons had also been serviced and the steel of his sword re-honed. There was a moment where the rogue felt suspicion that he may have been robbed, but after a good look he was satisfied that everything was his own. Most importantly, Madoc looked to the scroll that he had hidden within his bed sheets and it was still safely there. Whomever had been into his room either had shown the respect to not break his secrecy... or didn't know where to look. The rogue hoped it was the former.
Once dressed and ready, he made his way from his room to the dining room where they had eaten the night before. The table was once more covered with food - sliced ham and bacon, eggs that had been cooked perfectly with their golden yolks still intact, bread and fresh butter. Madoc stared at the feast. An elegant voice spoke, "Please sit and eat."
The rogue turned to see Gléowyn standing there. She smiled at him and pulled out a chair for herself. Gléowyn could sense Madoc's apprehension, "Has it been so long that you have been in the wilds that you do not remember the feeling of hearth and home? Do not worry so much about my husband, though he be noble, he is not the haughty lord that he may at times portray. He was a soldier, and now he has taken his father's place as the lord of this land. He is learning, too." She smiled and her beautiful blue eyes glinted.
Food was piled high on his plate and Madoc filled his belly once more. The man and woman sat alone through their breakfast and chatted while they ate. Madoc learned that she was a common woman, as well, and what's more she was of a tribal folk that lived far to the east over the legendary Misty Mountains. He was intrigued how a woman of such status could win the heart of a man. The story she told him was quite interesting and Madoc had a new view of Durgil, Lord of Dorthad.
Soon it was over and Gléowyn excused herself. The rogue stood and made his way outside to the stable yard where his horse had also been readied. Durgil came into the yard with Celdrahil - both wore comfortable riding clothing and were armed. Their horses were led out of the stable by a couple young lads and were stocked with full provisions. Madoc could also see that coats of chainmail lay folded across the horses' rumps.
"We have far to go and I want to get as much of this day behind us as we can."
The trio mounted and with little fanfare, they spurred their horses forward.
:ooc: I have nothing else to add
"I didn't know you were accompanying us, Lord Durgil. Thank you for the escort. I don't know these lands like my homeland," Madoc said, as politely as possible, to Durgil. Gleowyn's story had changed his opinion of the man. He was proud, but her words told him that he was also brave and kind. That was good enough for him.
He mounted, his bag, bow and quiver over his shoulder and his sword at his side.
"Thank you for having someone clean my things. They needed it," he said with a smile, again directing his words to Durgil. "But we best be off. I am as eager as you to make good time."
Celdrahil road in silence for a ways and then began to speak to Durgil in the language of his people,
"The winter was unkind to the roads, I spoke of this with the Steward, a measure will be put before the Council of the Scepter to offer some tax reprieves to the Lords along major or strategic roadways if they conduct the repairs themselves along the Kings road. This will have the benefit of assisting the realm in defense but also developing better trade connections for the lands in which these roads lie. I think for a small out of pocket expense on your behalf you will net more trade for your region, an increase in market taxes, and a reprieve in taxes of your own. The King will have better maintained roads, increased tolls, and benefit from an overall increase in the infrastructure of the realm instead of the target cyclic pattern that is conducted now at the King's expense. Being the Warden of the North Marches your roads would be specifically targeted and moved to the front of such an initiative. The details will be worked out, but factoring some of the labor hours owed to you by your clients now will allow you to reap the full benefits of this new royal policy. The King was also pleased about the new management of your dear departed once potential brother-in-laws estates. The repairs to the buildings and investment in equipment are going to show huge dividends in the agricultural output of the area again this year. I believe Dirnhael's agricultural royal tax increasing to meet the new output, but it is fair and should net him an increase in his revenue. The Crown Prince took especial glee in being able to tell the grain merchants of Tharbad that the orders would be much reduced this year. The bad news being that the Hillmen in the east seem to have coalesced around a new High Chieftain, so more action on that front is expected this spring. The Southern Marshal also wants to push into parts of Cardolan and restore them to the Kings suzerainty, this idea I think is a little ill timed.
It's good to be on the road isn't it! It will do you good to sleep upon the ground again and remember the pleasures of the soldier! Holed up all the time with a pretty wife is a sure fire way to grow fat!"
Madoc frowned at Celdrahil's use of the language he couldn't understand. He thought about quoting one of his mother's proverbs on politeness, but refrained. He still needed these men, and there was no use in rubbing them the wrong way any more than he already had.
Celdrahil's mind was always on military matters. He took very quickly to the role of military advisor and envoy that his kinsman had granted him for lack of anything else to justify his wanderings in Arnor. The number of doors open to a younger son were fewer than to the scion of the house. Celdrahil however was happy to think on such things and comment on his travels to pass the miles on horseback.
"Madoc, how long have your people been struggling in the wilds? I know the times are hard in the hinterland, but Gondor has been trying to relocate people closer to Tharbad and further into the protection of Gondor, also here in Arnor the King has been incorporating people into his Kingdom. The plague has resulted in many changes of policy. He granted a land grant to the Halflings recently. Do you think given the opportunity would your people relocate? From what I hear the Wildmen have taken over the coasts of former Cardolan and established petty kingdoms and the rule of Cardolan is mostly broken have you news of this? Are these small states friendly to our cause or no?"
:ooc: This is Durgil's reply to Celdrahil. It will fall in between the private chat and then the open conversation to Madoc. Once Nolmir gives us a post regarding Celdrahil's inquiry, then I will move on the game.
Durgil replied to Celdrahil, also using the Sindarin dialect, "With the yields that the summer will bring, the coffers of Dorthad should be in a good position to make the investment. Between Dirnhael and I, we should be able to secure the north marches and enhance the network of roads between our lands and even south to Fornost. It is my wish to reduce the number of unusable horse trails and see about a couple roads laid. One north, one south allowing defensive movement, as well as, easier travel. If you are sincere regarding the tax reprieves, I can see the spring of next year being a good starting point."
Madoc what somewhat surprised when Celdrahil addressed him. "We've seen the worst since the plague hit, but Cardolan has struggled to survive since long before that. Many would relocate without a second thought if given the chance; but I also know of many who would not. The years of struggle we have endured have made the land more precious to many of my kin. They regard it as theirs by right, and would not abandon it. Such men are foolish. Land means nothing to the dead, no matter how hard their fathers fought for it.
"I know fairly little of most of the Wildmen's petty kingdoms, but I do know that many of them are hostile to the people of Cardolan. My people had been raided by them several times when I left. Some would join Arnor in league against the orcs and other evils, but many would not. My people, however, would join with the rightful king if given the chance."
Madoc fell silent after this, thinking on Celdrahil's words. The man was obviously of a military bent and had some influence, despite his arrogance. Perhaps he could help in Madoc's goal of securing aid for his people.
Celdrahil thought for a moment at the man's response.
"The plague has done a great deal of damage, while I dont belittle your loss here its effect was worse in the south. The south however has the population to hopefully rebound from it. While the overall death was less here in the north i think it will be longer and harder to overcome. I am of like mind with you in being torn. I question whether it is better to consolidate the Kingdoms to borders that can be better defended or maintain a grip on the land so that it does not become wasteland and barren. The kingdom of Cardolan is no more, the last prince of that land surrendered his titles back to Fornost, though named again Arnor its boundary is not much greater than old Arthedain was. Perhaps consolidating the remaining people into larger settlements along the Kings road would provide the foundation necessary for natural recovery....hmmm
Your bow and sword, did you learn their use formally in service, or through application and necessity? Gondor has few natural bowmen outside those of the Woodmen and some of the people of my realm."
"I know little of the south kingdom, but I can say that with most of the Dunedain of Cardolan dead the blow the plague struck was greater than just a death toll," Madoc replied.
"As for my bow and sword, I learned how to use them first through my lord, Dervorin - I served as one of his guards when the plague reduced their numbers, but I was first one of his woodsmen, a hunter and scout, in times of unrest. I've honed my skills in battle through necessity after my lord's death and the fall of his land into waste.
"But what of you? You speak of Gondor as your own country, but you live here, in Arnor. What brought you through the desolate regions?"
I laiss i-ferin thuiar
I 'wilith lim echui aur.
I mrethil peliar duiw laiss
Af filig linnol der' ennas.
Vi Ithilien, dôr lenthir lind
Gorain nesta velethril nín.
(The leaves of the beeches breathe
The sparkling air of day's awakening.
The birches spread the buds of leaves
For the small singing birds to linger there.
In Ithilien, land of the tuneful waterfalls
Wandering-together heals my beloved)
I am from Ithilien, land of trees, running waters, a bright moon, and the first home of the House of Isildur in exile. My father is Lord of that land, and I was born in Minas Ithil the youngest of three sons. I was Captain of a garrison upon the watch of the dark lands, which I will not name, before my travels. The ties between Gondor and Arnor are not what they once were, so I am here as a token of my father's esteem to my kinsman the Steward of Arnor. I traveled overland to get here, having many adventures along the way, to see the expanse of the realms once ruled by the scions of Elendil. Now I am here. I have found that in all that long way my sword still serves the cause of my people against the enemy. Gondor is not the bulwark against the shadow that it believes itself to be. The dark enemy is everywhere and omnipresent, always striving against the light of the west and so I must always be on guard."
Madoc nodded. "That's true, Celdrahil. The shadow is everywhere." At Celdrahil's use of the term 'shadow,' he felt the sudden urge to tell the man what he'd seen before leaving Gandalf, but resisted, as his stubborn nature took over. He would tell that only to Dirnhael, who he knew Gandalf trusted.
And so, the trio rode through the day and on through the next. The summer weather was nice with sunny skies and cool breezes blowing, but the insects had come to season and they were a nuisance. Still the travel went well and the air between the men became much more relaxed.
By early afternoon on their third day of riding, the companions entered the outer curtain walls of Amaran where the Lord Dirnhael now lived with his wife, Ioreth. The setting had changed markedly compared to what Celdrahil had seen before. First, the land was greener and tended. People now resided here and worked the fields for the lord and lady, whom they loved. Second, stonemasons and smiths had come from local villages and also from Fornost and were tending both the defenses and the manse that sat on the hill.
Durgil led them up the curved dirt road until they came into a paddock and were met by a stablehand - a gentleman of many years. He smiled as he calmly approached the mounts, speaking soft words as he did. The animals were calmed and the man took the reins of two. "Welcome good travelers!" he said. "If I am not mistaken, this is Rostranor - mount of my Lord Durgil?"
"Aye, it is, Belegand. How are you these days? Do you find Amaran a worthy home since you left my house?" Durgil spoke to the man with a fond smile, and both Celdrahil and Madoc could see that the stablehand was blind. "It is a fine home, here, my lord. Your sister could turn a cave into a palace."
"That she could! So tell me, where might we find the master of the house?" asked Durgil.
"He is on the south wall of the house, lord. There is an architect amongst us and even a stonewright, but not just stonewrights from these parts. T'is a Dwarven stonewright come all the way up from the Dwarf Kingdom to the south and east! His name is Ginnar."
Intrigued, the three men now left Belegond to his duties and began to walk the length of the house until they found Dirnhael and a Dwarf, standing before a a length of scaffolding that ran up the wall. A winch was also in place and working men hauled on the ropes to lift bricks high to the roof above.
:ooc: A quick note about Ginnar - he is a dwarf out of Khazad-dum and is a relation to Lûnduf. He has traveled this far to bring a gift to Dirnhael for his marriage. He also has come to thank him for bringing back Lûnduf's axe. And finally, he was sent north to see how things were in Arthedain per his King's request. He is an able stonewright and has been helping with the repairs/remodelling of Amaran.
"Hail Dirnhael! Lord of the House, son of Númenor, and scion of the Elendili, I seek hospitality within your home so that within its walls we may speak of the light of the west and lessen the burden of our exile. Master of grass and stone! Come thee down and speak with us! We have traveled far and bring news."
Celdrahil smiled, "Ever should there be winches above the houses of the Dunedain! Grow! Grow! And be filled with children and absent of shadow!"
Dirnhael didn't even need to turn around - such formalities could only come from one person that he had associated with.
He signaled above for the work to continue momentarily with Ginnar, and clambered down.
"Welcome," he greeted the men with a smile. Durgil, his brother-in-law, looked pleasantly hale.
"Your sister will be pleased that you're visiting," he said, clapping his hands upon Durgil's shoulders.
To Celdrahil, he offered a formal (of course) handshake - to his knowledge, the man knew of no other way to interact. Over time, if he were to stay in these lands, Dirnhael hoped to relax his tongue a bit. "Ask, and it is yours, of course, if I can provide," he said. "I assume you approve of the changes we've made?"
He laughed for a moment. "The hardest part was removing Methilir's stench. But, as you can see," he said, motioning to the newly green surroundings, "my lady's touch overcomes a great many things."
He eyed Madoc questioningly, but without suspicion. "If you travel with these men, you are as welcome here as they are. I am Dirnhael." He looked at Celdrahil and cleared his throat. "Oh, um, Knight of Fornost, Captain of the something-or-other, and holder of some other titles that I don't use unless I absolutely have to," he said with a knowing grin.
"Won't you gentlemen come in from the sun? We'll share some ale, and stories from the road."
Madoc immediately took a liking to Dirnhael as he made little of his titles. It was a refreshing change from Celdrahil's formality.
"Many thanks for your welcome Dirnhael, but we might not be able to enjoy this meeting as we'd like. I have an urgent message for you, from a friend by the name of Gandalf." Madoc reached inside of his tunic, producing the scroll.
"I'm afraid it is of bad tidings," he added, as he glanced around to the men who had accompanied him, trying to gauge their reactions. "I did not tell these men the message for fear that it could fall into wrong hands; I thought it best to give it only to you," he hastily added, hoping to avoid the kind of reaction that Durgil and Celdrahil had displayed to his stubbornness.
"Your good fortune in the service of the King should not be mocked lest it fade away. Your manner will change soon enough when you have sons around you that will have to make their way in this world." said Celdrahil with a smile. He put his hands up, "No lessons from me today." Celdrahil then said quietly to Dirnhael, "This man rode in haste from the south and bears a message for you. It should be seen too quickly."
:ooc: looks like i missed the boat on that last one. it should go before Madoc's response.
"Mithrandir!" Celdrahil's smile was gone like a warm day on the mountains. "This I think should not be discussed about or read in the open."
:ooc: These may need re-assembling within the scene for purposes of dialogue.
Quote from: Telcontar on May 06, 2011, 06:02 AM
"Your good fortune in the service of the King should not be mocked lest it fade away. Your manner will change soon enough when you have sons around you that will have to make their way in this world." said Celdrahil with a smile. He put his hands up, "No lessons from me today."
"My services were never offered to the King, but to the people of the West; it was for that reason that I departed from fair Cardolan, my friend," he replied, more sternly than he intended. He softened as he continued to speak. "Though I am certainly grateful that the King appreciated them, for otherwise I would not have my magnificent bride; my treasure above all others. I do not mock such titles; I merely have little need for them, for they do not define me."
"Perhaps it is your manner that may eventually change," he said to Celdrahil with a warm smile, "for holding station above others sows distrust and serves only to divide Men and assist the Shadow that ever seeks to destroy us all. Better to risk trust amongst our fellows than to live in an ever-shrinking and darkening world, I should think."
Dirnhael may have become a noble by his deeds, but at heart, he knew he would never be considered one of their kind. And that suited him well enough.
***
Quote from: Nolmir on May 06, 2011, 06:02 AM
"Many thanks for your welcome Dirnhael, but we might not be able to enjoy this meeting as we'd like. I have an urgent message for you, from a friend by the name of Gandalf." Madoc reached inside of his tunic, producing the scroll.
"I'm afraid it is of bad tidings," he added, as he glanced around to the men who had accompanied him, trying to gauge their reactions. "I did not tell these men the message for fear that it could fall into wrong hands; I thought it best to give it only to you," he hastily added, hoping to avoid the kind of reaction that Durgil and Celdrahil had displayed to his stubbornness.
Dirnhael's smile faded. The wanderer had shaped his life before, and every time they had met before, it was for the most dire of reasons.
He took the parchment, and quickly nodded in thanks to Madoc. He then tipped his head towards the home, still under construction.
"Come with me," he said. "I shall retreat my quarters to read this missive while you refresh yourselves."
He looked concerned as he spoke next.
"The words of the Gray Pilgrim carry the utmost weight in my house. I presume we will all speak in short order."
Once alone, Dirnhael unrolled the scroll and saw the thin flowing handwriting of Gandalf the Gray.
QuoteDear Dirnhael,
I hope this letter finds you well. T'is been almost two years since our last meeting on the frontier of Rhudaur and Arthedain and so much has been done, yet still so much to do. I extend my warmest congratulations to you and your new wife - strong will your line be!
As you know, this note comes in haste for in haste I am, but I fear that Angmar threatens the south once more. I have long journeyed into the north and watched from hiding the doings of the Witch-king. Your efforts at Eldanar were quite effective in blunting his ambitions - this along with the sickness that has affected both ally and enemy alike has made the sorcerer switch tactic.
Through dark sorceries, the Witch-king has drawn from the nether realms foul shadows that he is loosing upon the land. Within Angmar is an ancient shrine to the Nameless Dark-lord of the First Age erected by men of that time who sacrificed and worshipped there. Through this dark portal, the Witch-king has found his solution to his weakened forces so that he might once more threaten Arthedain and Old Arnor as a whole. The shadows take no form, or worse, they house themselves within the living and the dead... walking abominations that are more powerful than any rank of men.
It is in Eldanar where the first secret to defeating them will be found.
You must go there. You must find the Ankh of Morgoth and wrest it from the one who now rules there, a foul servant under dominion of the cruel Iron King! Through this ancient artifact you may find the means to close this insidious gate and thus stop the fell shadows that the Witch-king sets upon you all.
I am to the south now, where I seek council with Saruman the White, one much more wise in my Order. If I can, I will be back to you to aid in this, but for now take those whom you can trust to have strength of heart and courage to face these foes.
I wish you well until our next meeting.
G
Ginnar wiped his brow as he watched Lord Dirnhael take leave to greet his new guests. He noted the reaction also of the Lord's servants to the men who arrived.
"Eh, now, lads," Ginnar said, turning back to the work at hand. "Our time of refreshin' will come when we got these stones up top and snug together. Now, back t' work." Picking up a large stone, he continued his exhortation to Dirnhael's men, "We'll make your lord such a defence, that any enemy not shaken by the mere sight shall find themselves broken on it's ramparts."
OOC: Hey gang! Thanks for letting me join in on this adventure. I have left Ginnar outside for the moment, as Dirnhael left him in charge. Hope that was okay! :tup:
:ooc: Oh, geez - I didn't know Ginnar was a PC! :-[
If I had, I most certainly would have involved him prominently in the introductions and proceedings that I posted. I sincerely apologize and will take steps to rectify that ASAP.
:ooc: Dude, no worries! I thought it was more than appropriate to leave Ginnar in charge of the men while Dirnhael received his newly arrived guests. Maker knows, these men be needin`ol`Ginnar around or they`d be thinkin`it wise to follow the lords`in takin` some refreshing time.
Dirnhael's blood ran cold as he read the paper in his hands.
Orcs, wild men, even dragons - he had dealt with those, but this was something else entirely.
He wished he had Edrahil, his trusted Elvish companion, at his side, or Fengel, his strong right arm for so many adventures.
But such things were not his to choose...
It was clear that Durgil and Celdrahil would be of immediate help within the realm, for if what Gandalf explained came to pass, the royal armies must be raised - but perhaps without fully explaining why, lest panic overtake them. The two gifted speakers would be far more capable of ensuring that the King and his court be... appropriately notified, which likely meant saying less instead of more.
"Then again," he thought wryly, "that's what nobles are best at."
That, however, would only be the beginning.
If the Witch-king was active once more, it was clear why Gandalf had contacted him - the ally of the Shadow had spies everywhere, and only a small fellowship had a chance of escaping his gaze for long. Mithrandir had made that clear to him on multiple occasions - what they must undertake, must be done in secret.
But... "walking abominations that are more powerful than any rank of men"? How could any small band resist such creatures, save avoiding them?
And there, he had his answer.
They would have to be quick, and light, always a step ahead of their foes. This, Dirnhael could do.
As if he had a choice. Like he told the men outside, the words of the Gray Pilgrim carry the utmost weight.
Madoc went with the flow as his companions went inside at Dirnhael's invitation, following behind the noblemen.
After Dirnhael left, Madoc asked, "Did he say that he is from Cardolan? I didn't know." He hesitated, then continued. "Do you know why he left? He's obviously accomplished great deeds, by your talk. He could've been of much service to his people."
:ooc: Something I just thought about... Madoc might know of Dirnhael (or at least have heard of him) since they're from the same region... I'm rolling a recognition test to see if Madoc knows of him. So 2d6+1 (for Dirnhael's renown) =6. So he wouldn't know of him, if my reading of the rules on this is correct.
Celdarhil shrugged.
"If its from Mithrandir I doubt its good news."
:ooc: I am leaving this open still for PC to PC dialogue, so talk amongst yourselves. I will add new narrative when I feel that the information that you guys want to convey to one another has been done.
Dirnhael, his face a mask come back to the dining room, where the men had been able to fill their stomachs after their journey.
He wanted to know more about Madoc, and asked him.
"Mithrandir does not trust just anyone with his missives. You did not know him, and yet you still traveled all this way, keeping it secret and safe until you found me. To what luck do we owe such a courtesy?"
He leaned across the table.
"Tell me, Madoc, of your tale. Now that you have delivered the message, will you return home straightaway?"
He needed to gauge the man, measure him. He was going to need all the help he could get, and if Gandalf trusted him - and thus far, Madoc had proven worthy of that trust - then he could be an ally in the quest he was to undertake.
"I saw... shadows when I met Gandalf. They seemed pure evil to me. I assumed they were what Gandalf's message was about, and if so, I wasn't about to let them corrupt what's still good in the North," Madoc replied, carefully excluding the part where he ran away, for the sake of pride. "And more than that, I'm a man of his word," he added, somewhat indignantly. "I gave my word to Gandalf that I would get this message to you, so I did. 'To promise is one thing, and to keep is another,' as my mum always used to say."
Madoc paused as he sized up this Dunadan. He was a far cry from Celdrahil's aristocratic snobbery, as Madoc perceived it. "I am of Cardolan. A servant of the lord Dervorin, whose lands are near Tharbad - or leastways I was, until the plague hit. Killed my lord and most of the household. I did what my people always do - survive. I took mostly to the woods, hunting and gathering. We began to come under Orc and hill-man raids soon after the plague passed through, and I did my best to defend what remained of my lord's people, alongside the other surviving men.
"Eventually, I realized that our struggle was hopeless. Each raid killed a few more, and our numbers were not growing. I struck out north, hoping to find lands were strength and courage still dwelt, where I could survive, and find help for my people. I've seen that Arthedain still has troubles of its own, and help is not easy to find.
"As for returning home, I have little to return to, and I like to think I could be of help with whatever it is that Gandalf requested of you. If I'm right about the shadows, I suspect you'll need all the help you can get."
Madoc looked hopefully to Dirnhael. This could be his chance to get in the good graces of these Dunedain, to earn goodwill that might one day help his people. But just as much, he really did want to help. It wasn't as if he had other things to do, and the shadows really had scared him.
"I know of the plague," Dirnhael said softly. Leaving Cardolan and finding a cure for it took over a year of his life, and that quest claimed the lives of some of his companions along the way, placing him in an unexpected role of leadership that he had never sought, but took to as a matter of necessity.
"What we must face next is worse."
He looked to Celradhil and Durgil - who he asked to fetch Ginnar.
The Dwarf was a cousin of his dearly departed companion Lunduf, who set out with him from Tharbad so long ago, only to sacrifice himself to save others in the battle with the great dragon Scatha. Ginnar had proven to be a boon companion in the months during the keep's reconstruction, and if he were half the Dwarf his cousin was, then Dirnhael was certain that he would be a great ally indeed.
***
When they were assembled, Dirnhael read them the letter in his private study.
"We will need to travel quickly, and in secret," he said. "The Shadow's eyes see far."
He looked to each of them.
"What say you? There is no shame in declining this great quest, but not a word can be breathed of it. Too much is at stake."
"This is beyond my ken. Orcs, wargs, hell even trolls I know something about. This is different. Should we call Edrahil? will he come if we call? When I sojourned to methilir's he cast a dwemor on me. To call him in need. I never used it, perhaps it still works. If this threat is as bad as it appears, and the word of Mithrandir says it is, then this is something the Eldar should know of. Their aid is secondary to their knowing this evil is afoot.
This.... is bad. Armies of flesh and iron we have prepared against, this is something else."
Celdrahil seemed lost in thought for a moment, "Mithrandir has given us a task, I will see it through. If he is unsure than the libraries of Fornost will provide no answer either. I say we send this message to the King with a trusted man. Bad news does not get better with age and then ride out to meet this threat."
Ginnar hoisted up another stone on the winch, his corded muscles tense from the weight. Above, two men careful slid the stone in place. The dwarf admired the work. It's a good fit, he noted with pleasure. It will withstand a solid barrage from any siege engine.
His thought was interrupted by one of Lord Dirnhael's recent guests. The man informed him that the Lord of the manor required him.
"Aye," Ginnar acknowledged. Turning towards the labourers, he gave instructions, "Alright, lads! I want to see another row along the eastern wall before night fall. We'll make a mountain out of this molehill yet!" He laughed
*****
:ooc: More to follow regarding the meeting with Dirnhael and the others tommorow. So tired tonight.
Quote from: Telcontar on May 09, 2011, 08:10 PM
"I say we send this message to the King with a trusted man."
"I agree, of course," Dirnhael said. "There are those at Amaran who could be trusted with such a message. But this threat could stir such fear and panic... I am afraid of what would happen if word got out. I know little of courtly ways - is there a path we could choose where the guard could be raised without explaining exactly why?"
"No that would cause a greater panic. Key individuals would have to know what was going on so that they could maintain the confidence and support of thier troops. I think infroming the king or the steward would be sufficent."
Quote from: Telcontar on May 11, 2011, 09:42 AM
"No that would cause a greater panic. Key individuals would have to know what was going on so that they could maintain the confidence and support of thier troops. I think infroming the king or the steward would be sufficent."
"Very well," Dirnhael said with a nod. He knew that Celdrahil's advice here was sound, and they would have to trust that things would be handled safely in their absence.
"But I do not intend to wait for any royal decree before I depart. Mithrandir tasks me with urgency - something he would not do unless he felt it most necessary, and so I will see it done with equal haste."
Durgil spoke, "Then I shall be the one who will carry the message to the King. Although my sword would be useful on this journey, I see that my position in the court may prove more helpful. I will also make contact with Camentir - he and his Third Host is once more along the northeastern frontier. With his Majesty's permission, perhaps I can have these troops moved to aid you in some manner. I..."
The young noble's words were suddenly cut short as a trio of persons walked into Dirnhael's dining hall - it was a man, an elf, and a dwarf - and for a moment, Dirnhael felt a sudden rush of deja vu. The three nobles all felt their jaws drop open as they looked upon Edrahil and the long blond-haired Éothraim, Fengel, while Madoc stood in confusion as to what was going on.
Ginnar smiled at the shocked faces and Fengel spoke, "Hello, Dirnhael. Durgil. T'is been awhile. I was tending my fields a week past when Edrahil rode up onto my land saying that the Gray Wanderer had need of us again. So... here we are. Are we late?"
"Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo im gelir ceni ad lín le suilon!"
Your magic works quick Edrahil, I had thought to use it and here you appear before us!
"Mithrandir is everwhere at once its seems. This is both a good omen for us and an indication of the threat that is before us."
Madoc looked from the Dunedain to the newcomers in confusion.
"Who are these men? Are they friends?" Madoc asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice, as he looked to Dirnhael for answers. But even as he spoke, he knew his suspicion was probably unfounded. Celdrahil had invoked the name of Mithrandir, who he had gathered was another name of Gandalf's, and the Dunedan noble was one of the most suspicious people Madoc had met.
"You're friends of Gandalf?" he asked, turning to the newcomers. Though he knew little very of elves, he suspected that Edrahil was one.
Edrahil answered Madoc's question, "I have known Mithrandir for many years beyond the span of most men, but he is known to my companion through our adventures with Dirnhael. As to our relation with Dirnhael, he has been a boon companion to Fengel and me for the last three years." He then looked at Celdrahil, "Mae govannen, Celdrahil."
The Sindar began to settle himself by unburdening his few items - Fengel followed suit. Behind the two, a woman rushed into the dining room, "I heard that Durgil is here!" It was Ioreth, wife of Dirnhael and sister to Durgil. Her pleasing smile retreated from her face when she saw the number and content of her guests. She looked to her husband and Dirnhael knew that she was displeased with what lay before them, even though it was still unknown to them all.
Celdrahil bowed when the lady of the house entered their company. "Lady it is a pleasure to see you. The fading days of the west are less painful in your company. Let us rejoice in the union of old friends and enjoy the hospitality of the house before commencing with our errand. If that pleases all here?"
"A fine idea, Master Celdrahil," agreed the dwarf, who was eager for a stout drink to wash down the day's work. "And all th' more reason t' celebrate, as it seems ol' Gandalf has managed t' conjure up quite th' company for this quest."
Quote from: Nolmir on May 12, 2011, 10:24 AM
Madoc looked from the Dunedain to the newcomers in confusion.
"Who are these men? Are they friends?" Madoc asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice, as he looked to Dirnhael for answers.
"The very best," Dirnhael said, with more than a bit of surprise. "There are no people in all of Middle-Earth that I trust more."
He greeted them each with a hearty embrace - he was stunned and delighted to see them here, even though he knew that it was for all the wrong reasons.
For tonight, at least, they could put that aside. Celdrahil was right - this was an evening for rejoicing; for none knew when another such opportunity might come.
Madoc nodded at the explanations, looking satisfied at their responses.
"Aye, master dwarf. And more than that, may all here drink to everyone's health and safety in our quest, and the friendship of us all," he said, striding over to greet the new arrivals and Ioreth. "Hello, friends, lady. We have not met; I am called Madoc."
The day passed into early evening and a banquet was set for the party that had gathered at Dirnhael and Ioreth's home.
When the newly married couple had moved from Dorthad, first to the lands granted by King Argeleb and then to the lands once owned by Methilir, many of the folk of Dorthad had followed. There was a great love felt by the people for the Lady of the House and they did not want to be separated from her. It was evident in the evening's festivities as people came from about the countryside to add to the feast and merriment. Musicians played on lutes, flutes and accordians while dancers spun and promenaded. It was not meant to be such a gathering and Dirnhael reflected on its dangerous portent, but figured it best that the mood be light before they left on their errand. Only Ioreth was distant to him - and he knew why.
Durgil spoke to his sister, "Your table is fine, Ioreth! It makes sense though, as all of the best cooks followed you here!" He smiled broadly at her and she let slip a smile of her own, replying, "Dear brother, it is the net of security that you and Dirnhael, along with others, provided us here that allowed us to foster such strong homes and relations with our people."
It was a very diplomatic answer and Durgil knew at once that his sister was not of a mood and so he said, "I promise that the safety of all will be maintained through the strength of our arms, and knowing that our loved ones are back home praying for our return makes us work that much harder."
Ioreth nodded. She did not like it that once more her husband was being culled together with his friends to set off on a dangerous adventure, but she knew it needed to be done. It had always been this way for the Dúnedain and it would be this way until there was at last freedom from the Shadows of old.
The night and all the merriment passed and soon only those of Dirnhael's immediate confidence were seated at his table. Edrahil sat in a seat next to him, Fengel by the Sindar, while Durgil sat at the opposite end. The others - Celdrahil, Ginnar, and Madoc - were spread about. Even though the platters and bowls still remained, Dirnhael asked that there be no disturbances while he and his friends talked. The glow from the fire in the large hearth was the only light and its crackling was all that was heard within the dining hall. The Sindarin mage broke the silence, "I had message sent to me that Mithrandir was in need of us - meaning Fengel and I - and so we hastened to your home, Dirnhael. What we do not know is why? There seems to have been relative peace and quiet since the end of winter... what has occurred that he has gathered us again, and why is he not present?"
"I do not know why the Grey Wanderer himself could not appear," Dirnhael said. "He entrusted Madoc here with his message to me, and I have taken that as a show of faith in him that I will honor."
He went on to relay Gandalf's message to Edrahil and Fengel in hushed tones, noting that the horse-lord's eyes widened as his own did at the words. What had been explained was terrifying.
"I do not know how we could face this foe," he said to the assembled group. "In fact, Gandalf seems to suggest that we do everything we can to avoid doing so. Instead, let us focus merely on finding this relic. We will move quickly and in secret, and trust no one that does not sit at this table presently."
***
Dirnhael did not wish to leave Ioreth; they had settled into a happy life here. She had made a home of a kind in this land that he had never imagined he would experience, and to leave her alone there once more made him uncomfortable. The two were overcome with sadness for a moment, but he was proud, too - she knew what was at stake, and would not ask him to put others at risk for selfish reasons.
As he gazed at her, over the merry dancers and happy guests, surveying her great hall, it was clear that Ioreth was a Dunedain princess in every way, and Dirnhael knew that her strength would guide him... even without her presence.
"Agreed. Durgil, will you be taking word to the King? NOw, where is this and what road will we take to get there?"
Quote from: tomcat on May 11, 2011, 04:41 PM
Durgil spoke, "Then I shall be the one who will carry the message to the King. Although my sword would be useful on this journey, I see that my position in the court may prove more helpful. I will also make contact with Camentir - he and his Third Host is once more along the northeastern frontier. With his Majesty's permission, perhaps I can have these troops moved to aid you in some manner. I..."
:ooc: Yes, he will be the messenger.
The note from Gandalf spoke once more of Eldanar, the broken Dúnedain fortress that sat on the frontier of Anmgar. Dirnhael and his friends were all to familiar with the place and knew where it lay. The Lord of the House went to a credenza and drew forth a large map that was rolled and then tied with a pice of silk ribbon. They were left here by Methilir but were too useful to discard as they showed all of the lands Amarana along with the surrounding country of Arthedain up until the borders of the north and what now was called Rhudaur.
Dirnhael untied the scroll and unfurled the large map onto the table before them all and placed his finger where the ruins of Eldanar would be found.
This map is of our entire chronicle and may also be found on the menu bar under Maps/Deckplans (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/cotn/map.jpg)
Celdrahil looked at the map. His trained eye studied the terrain and unthinking his mind strayed to planning maneuvers and offenisive and defensive action across the lands.
He traced his finger along the map, "Mounted it should take us a day or two to reach Dol Gormain. I have not been out that far to the north west. Looking at the map its the only spot in which the terrain indicates that a defensive position could be established and held. Its a shame it does not still house a company of knights. Eldanar? Is it a ruin or is it occupied?"
Quote from: Telcontar on May 15, 2011, 05:35 PM
Celdrahil looked at the map. His trained eye studied the terrain and unthinking his mind strayed to planning maneuvers and offenisive and defensive action across the lands.
He traced his finger along the map, "Mounted it should take us a day or two to reach Dol Gormain. I have not been out that far to the north west. Looking at the map its the only spot in which the terrain indicates that a defensive position could be established and held. Its a shame it does not still house a company of knights. Eldanar? Is it a ruin or is it occupied?"
"The last time I -
we - were there," Dirnhael said, looking to Fengel and Edrahil, "a small group of Camentir's men held Eldanar after we drove off the dragon Scatha."
He shook his head. "But that was seasons ago, and that land would have been extremely difficult to hold. It was far north, and the keep was in ruin - more so after our battle there... where we lost our friend Lunduf." He nodded to Ginnar in respect.
"I would expect no aid there," he surmised. "The land is rocky, barren and unforgiving. It will be difficult even to hide so close to the Witch-King's gaze."
Ginnar also examined the map laid before them, tracing a massive finger along the route. When Celdrahil made mention of traveling mounted, the dwarf grimaced slightly. Like most of his kin, the thought of his feet not firmly planted on the earth made Ginnar uneasy.
He pushed his discomfort aside however. Quick time was required, and he would do what was necessary.
Quote
"The last time I - we - were there," Dirnhael said, looking to Fengel and Edrahil, "a small group of Camentir's men held Eldanar after we drove off the dragon Scatha."
He shook his head. "But that was seasons ago, and that land would have been extremely difficult to hold. It was far north, and the keep was in ruin - more so after our battle there... where we lost our friend Lunduf." He nodded to Ginnar in respect.
"Ah, that I could have been there that day," the dwarf rumbled, a deep, cold rage bubbling up. Looking back at Dirnhael, his eyes steeled, "It will be my honour t' serve along side you, m'Lord, in place of my kinsman."
Quote from: Posterboy on May 15, 2011, 08:47 PM
"Ah, that I could have been there that day," the dwarf rumbled, a deep, cold rage bubbling up. Looking back at Dirnhael, his eyes steeled, "It will be my honour t' serve along side you, m'Lord, in place of my kinsman."
"And I know of the steel from which your kin have been forged," Dirnhael replied. "I already feel more confident knowing such strength rides with us. We will need it."
"So we will make for Dol Gormain first. We could do so in the open I think. Of all the errands that we could be on the one we are undertaking is probably furthest from our enemies mind. Edrahil do you have any knowledge of what these things are that Mithrandir speaks of?"
:ooc: Leaving this one for more roleplaying
Quote from: Telcontar on May 16, 2011, 06:17 AM
"So we will make for Dol Gormain first. We could do so in the open I think.
"I agree. The first leg of our journey there would not likely draw undue attention, and we'd make far better time."
Madoc's brow wrinkled as he studied the unfamiliar map. He had seen maps of the region before, but that was long ago and those maps were of far less detail, so he took his time before speaking.
"It sounds like a plan, then," the commoner said. "As for Gandalf, he said he had another errand to attend to. I know not what could be so important, but those were his words." He looked to the elf, studying him. "I don't know the extent of your knowledge, master elf, but I doubt that many have heard of these... shadows. I have not, at any rate. They are pure evil - I can tell you that from one brief encounter - and they are powerful, as Gandalf said."
:ooc: Also, thought I'd let everyone know that I'll be leaving to go overseas on Monday, and I'll be gone for a few weeks (5, I think). I'll have internet access, but I'll be busy, especially the first week, so my posting might be slow. Feel free to puppeteer Madoc to keep the story moving if you need to, Tomcat.
Quote from: Telcontar on May 16, 2011, 06:17 AM"Edrahil do you have any knowledge of what these things are that Mithrandir speaks of?"
Quote from: Nolmir"I don't know the extent of your knowledge, master elf, but I doubt that many have heard of these... shadows. I have not, at any rate. They are pure evil - I can tell you that from one brief encounter - and they are powerful, as Gandalf said."
:ooc: Sorry guys... I missed this...
Edrahil tilted his head in thought and then spoke, "Spirits and ghosts of men are things unknown to Elves, as we do not know why or where it is that the spirits of men pass to beyond the pale. Thus when one of your spirits are caught between realms and haunts a place, it leaves us puzzled. Elves hold no fear of these spirits as we have seen the holy land, or at least shall one day return, and cannot understand death as you know it. Still there are fell-spirits beyond the doors of night and it is said that these terrible things entered our world ages past. Dwimmerlaiks, ghouls, wraiths, and fell things that inhabit the living and turn them into werewolves and vampires... these things cast a great fear and it takes hardy folk to stand before them... even among my own folk." The Sindarin mage poured wine in his cup, "If there is some force, or necromancer with the arts to summon such things, then the North is in great jeapordy."
Fengel replied, "Is the Witch-king not such a being? Someone that could raise such spirits? After all, he did call forth the dragon Scatha."
"It is not known whether Scatha came of his own free will to plunder the north, or if he answered another's call. But the Witch-king certainly does have the power to make such a beckon... still, I do not know if he has the arts to draw fell-spirits from beyond the Doors of Night. It is a mystery that we will have to investigate. I will join you on this quest, Dirnhael, as it seems that the realms of the Elves may be in as much danger here as those of Men."
"I too will ride with you," said Fengel. "Perhaps Cerduil and Vorandúr once more standing in defiance will end this new threat."
To this, Dirnhael turned to the hearth and mantle over which hung his longsword, forged be Men and graced by the Elves - by the Lady Arwen, no less. Vorandúr and its tracery of Mithril shown with the light cast by the fire seeming to make it also ablaze. Their path chosen and the members true, their new company would leave with the morning light.
Dirnhael strode from the dining hall to call on his servants. They would need the horses prepped with supplies to sustain them for many days. As he passed, he took the sword from its hanging mounts and continued out of the room. The other companions all stood in silence with their own thoughts of the upcoming task.
Lady Ioreth entered the room. She saw her husband's sword was no longer above the mantle. She sighed and spoke, "Rooms have been prepared for you all. Breakfast will be ready with the first light. Good night, good sirs."
Cadoc gave Ioreth a light bow. "Thank you, m'lady." He glanced in Dirnhael's direction. "I give you my promise, even if it isn't the word of a lord - only a common man - that we will return in victory and safety. It might not mean much, but 'tis all I have to give."
At mention that the rooms were ready, Ginnar rose to retire to his bed. As he past by the Lady of the house, Madoc spoke:
Quote from: Nolmir on May 29, 2011, 11:15 AM
"Thank you, m'lady." He glanced in Dirnhael's direction. "I give you my promise, even if it isn't the word of a lord - only a common man - that we will return in victory and safety. It might not mean much, but 'tis all I have to give."
Ginnar smiled at the young lass as well, "Aye, we'll bring him back whole and wholesome, with more stories of great renown t' tell inspire the lads and more coins t' fill the coffers."
He turned to the rest, "A good night t' ya, fair companions. May ya dream of fairer days t' come, when the shadows have all been chased away. Ah, yes! T' see those days with these eyes! May we hasten their coming!"
And with that pleasant thought on his lips, Ginnar departed for his bed, alcohol, a day in the sun, and manual labour rushing him into a deep slumber.
Quote from: Nolmir on May 29, 2011, 11:15 AM
He glanced in Dirnhael's direction. "I give you my promise, even if it isn't the word of a lord - only a common man - that we will return in victory and safety. It might not mean much, but 'tis all I have to give."
"A man's word means everything when it is kept," Dirnhael said with a knowing smile; this Madoc was not entirely unlike him once. "And those who keep theirs are anything but common."
Dirnhael said little to Ioreth that night; he did not have the words. She was a stalwart Dunedain woman, and she understood that he would do what was necessary, simply for that reason. He knew she would accept that, and he knew that she was proud of him for doing what he could for the betterment of all.
But knowing that did not salve the wound of departing.
They had created a home here, not only for themselves, but they had begun to restore hope and pride to this region, and the making of it ever strengthened their bond. Dirnhael did not wish to leave any more than Ioreth wished him to go.
The night was long, filled with talk and love and sadness, and Dirnhael vowed to return - both of them knowing that, as always, it was nothing more than a hope; a wish upon the billowing winds.
Celdrahil spent some time talking to Eldrahil if for no other reason than to have someone to converse with in the old tongue. Afterwards he prepared his gear, oiling his armor and his sword.
Quote from: sdrotar on May 30, 2011, 03:07 AM
Quote from: Nolmir on May 29, 2011, 11:15 AM
He glanced in Dirnhael's direction. "I give you my promise, even if it isn't the word of a lord - only a common man - that we will return in victory and safety. It might not mean much, but 'tis all I have to give."
"A man's word means everything when it is kept," Dirnhael said with a knowing smile; this Madoc was not entirely unlike him once. "And those who keep theirs are anything but common."
Madoc smiled slightly but appreciatively at Dirnhael's words. He was liking this nobleman.
He retired to the quarters they had prepared for him and checked his gear once more, checking the arrows and their fletchings for straightness, testing his bowstring to make sure it had endured the many weeks' travel intact, and polishing his sword and bow.