First subgroup ; Roderick the Beorning, Anarion's Gondorian

EDORAS
In the shadow of saw-toothed Mount Írensaga, on a broad hill behind a high wall stands Edoras, the court of the King. The wide rutted track weaves past lines of great grassy mounds on either side – the barrows of kings, thick with white flowers – up to the gates. Beyond a paved street rises curving up the hill on flagstones and many well-laid steps. Houses line the path and narrow alleys lead off it. A clear stream sparkles and chatters down a stone channel along the way. At the crown of the hill of Edoras gleams Meduseld, the Golden Hall. Here sits Thengel King, his beautiful Gondorian spouse by his side. In Meduseld gifts and honours are given, and here emissaries and visitors come to ask leave of the King to travel in his land.

Edoras is the chief city of Rohan, counting the greatest townsfolk in the entire Riddermark. Local chiefs and lords live in Edoras with their households, meeting tradesmen and craftsmen along its main street, while many farmers and herders regularly come to see the King and bring him the bounty of the farmlands. A great part of the folk living in farmsteads and manors in the proximity of the city may find refuge behind the dike, wall and fence of Edoras, should war come to Rohan. There are no thralls in the city; workers are paid for their labour, however toilsome. Tradesmen buy the work of the local smiths and woodwrights, and sell leather, cloths and ales from Westfold and Eastfold. Horse-merchants come here to see what the best horse-herds have to offer, and leave to bring the swift steeds of the Riddermark as far as Gondor. Since Edoras sees travellers coming from far provinces and even from outside the borders of Rohan it also boasts an inn, a long house where foreigners can gather for drinks and meals and where they can find a bed in need.

King Thengel, Lord of the Riddermark
Thengel has returned to his country only in the year 2953, already 48 years old. Before that time he had lived for thirty years in Gondor, away from the land of his forebears, to escape the influence of his ill-tempered and unwise father. Thengel returned a grown man, with a foreign Queen and a foreign heir. Thengel and his family speak Sindarin and Westron, in the Golden Hall, but in all public matters the Lord of Rohan and his household use the language of the Mark.

Queen Morwen of Rohan
Morwen is a lady of high blood, not easily deceived. The Rohirrim call her Steelsheen, a strong name for a forbidding queen. Much younger than her husband, Morwen lived most of her early life in distant Lossarnach, a fief to the south of Minas Tirith, but she is a descendant of the princes of Dol Amroth, Dúnedain with Elven-blood in their veins.
She is tall and fair-skinned with long black hair – quite exotic to her husband's fair-haired people – appearing as foreign as her native speech and accent, so soft and musical compared to the slow, rich language of Rohan. She treats every honest man and woman with fairness and generosity, yet she remains distant and reserved.

EARLY SPRING 2954 T.A.

This day is unlike any others in Edoras. Not only did the two marshals gathered in Meduseld to hold a council with the king and its advisors, but a most unlikely visit has been announced. Visitors from far far away had undertook the perilous journey through Rhovanion when they heard the announcement of the coronation of Thengel. After several months, they have now arrived in Edoras. Such a meeting didn't happen since decades, and the king summoned many notable figures from the kingdom. 

The day went by, slowly, in expectation. Finally a horn blows from the outside. The guards open the golden gates wide, allowing a cold early spring breeze to flow inside the hall of Meduseld. On the threshold stand some two scores of sturdy figures. Ten of them remain motionless, you can recognize them as fighters from the heavy hauberks they wear. A single set of such armor is well worth a house, as a second layer of rings is made out of gold and silver. A dozen dwarves enter, all clad in flamboyant attires. Many of them are carrying small wooden caskets, carved with geometric features and encrusted with gems catching whatever few rays of light and reflecting them a thousand times.

At the head walks an unusual sighting of a dwarf. Although his beard (braided into a silver case) and his small stature cannot hide his origin, his bearing and regal clothes seem more fitting to a High Elf. As he makes his way to the throne, many mutter as folk catch sight of the many gold embroideries he wears. Even the sword he is carrying at his side seems to be more of a piece of art than an actual weapon.

The dwarf envoy stops in front of the throne and bows. « I salute you, great king. I'm Dori, son of Fror, at your service. The King under the mountain, Dáin I, sends his greetings and as a token of friendship, offers you these... » and as he gestures, the boxes carrying dwarves open their burden, revealing gold and gems in abundance. « We believe the green shades of these jewels would remind you of the plains of your kingdom »

Such an introduction cannot go unappreciated, and as can be expected Thengel welcomed the dwarves warmly, and assured the envoy that there should be ongoing friendship between the Riddermark and the newly reborn kingdom of Erebor.

As is custom in Rohan, a big feast will soon be held. In the meantime, the guests of the king mingle with the dwarves. Most do so out of courtesy, some others by curiosity, but a few also have business at heart. Rumors of the famous craftsmanship of the dwarves reached as far as Rohan, not mentioning the tremendous riches they gain from the fall of Smaug.

Egilhir : You are present at this meeting, as a member of the retinue of the King. You feel your presence is ill perceived by the Rohirrim guards, but the king has nonetheless asked you to remain for a while.

Nameless character of WaitingCynicism : you are present as well, you rode from Helm's Deep with Marshal Eogar to attend to the meeting.

  Veig : you came all the way from Erebor to Edoras. You travelled by boat whenever it's been possible, making the journey quite bearable. Nonetheless you are very tired and look forward some rest. But not now unfortunately. Your loremaster in Erebor required from you document as much knowledge as possible about Rohan and the Rohirrim. And also to recover as much knowledge as you can from the long abandoned dwarves holdings in the white mountains.

He expected that the Rohirim wouldn't appreciate his presence, as a foriegner to these lands he understood that many would see royal business as none of his, but he had been tasked with accompany Thengel to his homeland, along with his wife a distant cousin on his fathers side. There where other reasons for him being here too, he was part emissary from Gondor, part watcher for signs of the enemy trying to take advantage of a new King and the political turmoil it could cause. He had his own reasons, he had heard much of the horses of Rohan and wished to see such steeds for himself, also there was a sense of adventure, not for the idle seeing of sights, although it was nice to see other lands, but to learn of the enemy from the mouths of others and put his spear and sword to use to aid them.

He was interested in the dealings of the Rohirim, but as the emissaries of the dwarves arrived his curiosity was roused. He had seen very little of Durins folk, although he had heard the tales that Erebor had been reclaimed, from a dragon no less. He admired the craftsmanship of Dori's clothing, his weapons and armour. And was even more amazed to see the amount of treasure laid before the King. Clearly the tales of the wealth of Erebor was true.

Once formality was out of the way he would make attempts to speak with the dwarves. He wanted to hear more of Erebor and the North, and he wondered if any in the company had traveled into Eriador and seen the remnants of Gondors sister Kingdom of Arnor.

Quote from: Anarion on Jan 10, 2019, 03:29 AMOnce formality was out of the way he would make attempts to speak with the dwarves. He wanted to hear more of Erebor and the North, and he wondered if any in the company had traveled into Eriador and seen the remnants of Gondors sister Kingdom of Arnor.

It's not hard to speak with a dwarf, it's harder to be left undisturbed. Many Rohirrim are eager to strike trade deals with the envoys of Erebor. One of the dwarves however, catches your attention. Although his attire does not differ much from the other dwarves, you guess he's more of a scholar, ink has left soft stains on his fingertips, and he carries a satchel holding scrolls and writing material. From time to time he's called upon to outline some contract draft but overall he's left pretty much alone.

He takes note of the ink stains and scrolls. "A scholar, who better to speak to for information." He says to himself as he walks across the halls to approach the dwarf.

"Well met! I'm Egilhir of Gondor, I rode with the King on his return home and I am residing within Edoras for a while. May I have your name?" He asks extending a hand to the dwarf.

  I totally forgot to mention Roderick, my bad !
Roderick the Red is standing in the hall as well, although he could well be outside, depending if he agrees to surrender his weapon to the guards to enter Meduseld. As a matter of fact, very few people are allowed to bear weapons inside the Golden Hall. At the moment, only the two Marshals, the personal bodyguards of the King (including his Gondorian friend) and the envoy of the King Under The Mountain are allowed to keep their weapon.
Roderick acts as bodyguard to a powerful Rohir merchant going by the name of Goldred. There's obviously no need for a bodyguard right now, you can only guess that the trader is trying to make himself look important. He's hired three more muscle men for the same purpose. You don't really mind, it's well paid and winter has been quiet.

Quote from: Anarion on Jan 11, 2019, 03:42 AM"Well met! I'm Egilhir of Gondor, I rode with the King on his return home and I am residing within Edoras for a while. May I have your name?" He asks extending a hand to the dwarf.

The dwarf frowns and looks up from his scroll. He stares at you from head to toe. "Not a Rohir, are you ? Gondor from the look of you. Heard they have a decent library down there. Name's Gibor, lad. Herald, lorekeeper and at the moment petty contract scribbler. So much for knowledge gathering". He laughs out loudly. "At least the beer is fresh." He gulps down his pint and shakes firmly your extended hand.

He smiles warmly at the dwarf. "Indeed, from Dol Amroth by birth but have spent many years in Minas Tirith much like the new King." He replies. He takes a sip of his own beer nods in agreement with the dwarf. "They do brew a fine beer here, it's actually the first I've tasted it." He looks at the ink that smudged his own hand and laughs a little to himself. "Is there much news to be told from the north?" He then asks politely while scanning the room for a moment taking not of the door guards and their dealings.

« Aye, aye. Many songs I've heard about that place. Not fond of boats myself though. » he leans a bit closer. « Do they make good meat pies out of those fancy white birdies ? Do you know the Dalish now trend to cook poultry in cinder ? The « Smaug » they call it. » He chuckles. « humans should be more respectful. Guess it is their way to deal with bad memories. That's tasty food though, with a bit of gravy. The north is changing lad, and I don't mean the culinarily trends. There's two great kingdoms now, one above one below, both working hand in hand. Not since the last age did the dwarves and the men worked so well together. You should see the new Dale, it's going to be a wonder. Streets are paved with colourful stones, the palace of the king is made out of black marble, and everyday one can witness men, dwarves and pointed ears... err, I mean elves... striking deals together in the market square. Can you imagine that ? Not so long ago, heads would have been the only things stricken ! Friendship in battles can do that. Forges bounds peace can never hope to achieve. Sad thing... But at least, blood wasn't wasted for nothing.
The Dalish are slowly reclaiming the fertile eastern lands, and more and more men are flocking to the banner of Bard the Bowman. And us people of Durin, we have what we always have been looking for. A home. A mighty kingdom. Some dream now of reclaiming Khazad-dûm. Foolish I say ! Some things are better left forgotten in the dark. As for Mirkwood. There's something evil there, down to the roots. And I don't mean spiders or trolls. We're trying to clear off the old road through that cursed place, but to no avail. Even the trees are trying to kill you. Ever heard of gallow vines ? They sneak around your neck while you sleep and before you know it you're six feet off the ground choking till your last breath. Cursed place. So we came down by boat. Not fond of boat, did I already tell you ? And now I'm here. Not fond of horses either. Us dwarves don't like things bigger than us. Guess that's why we don't like many things. » He laughs and pats your shoulder. « Now tell me about yourself, boy. How is it where you're from ? »

He smiles to hear of the friendship and prosperity of the north, of Bards growing power, and that of the Dwarves. The mention of elves makes him smile more but he takes not of the dwarves change in tone. The shadow he describes in the Mirkwood however unsettles him somewhat. He had heard stories of the cursed woodland. His mood lightens again and he laughs at the dwarves comment about disliking things bigger than him. "Well we don't eat swans where I'm from to answer that question first." He says with a playfulness in his tone. It doesn't last long though. "Gondor, is never a safe land. It's eastern borders are held by servants of the enemy it's lands including my fair city of Dol Amroth see raids from the men of the south. Prior to coming here with Thengel I fought along the borders against ever bolder actions of Orc and Evil Men alike." He leans on his spear being one of the few non Rohir in the palace allowed to carry a weapon. "The call if Foe Needle in the common tongue. It has been passed through my family says the fall of Numenor." His voice is strong as he speaks of his family heirloom and trusted weapon, but the hint of sadness in his voice is hard to miss.

« Oh I see. Much like the ravens we have in Erebor, are they ? Speaking to some of your folk as well ? Heard there's some intelligent kingfishers in the Anduin vales. There's also the Great Eagles. The bears of Beorn. Soon we shall eat nothing but cabbage ! Do you think pointed ears talk to cabbage ? » He laughs again. « Ah, elves, you got my meaning. Quite a weapon you have there, and I know what I mean. It's seen blood before, that I can tell for sure, and from that keen edge of its I can forebode it shall see more before the rust of old age takes the best of it. Keep it sharp, lad, nowadays it's better company than most breathing allies. Oh but look ! Dinner's about to be served ! »

He laughs at the dwarves good humour. "I'm sure there are still some good allies to be had." He says with a smile then turns his attention to the mention of food. "I was begining to get hungry. Lets feast together Gibor, have you been West beyond the Misty Mountains?" He asks as he heads for the great tables along with the dwarf.

Roderic gazed around, taking in the atmosphere of the great golden hall. All around him the walls were covered in tapestries depicting the history and legends of the Rohirrm. Whilst he was surrounded by the buzz of conversation in several different languages, he was aware of his new employer Goldred trying to catch the eye and attention of several important people in the vicinity.

He had been hired by Goldred only a few days before. Adrahil, the caravan master from Minas Tirith, had hoped that Roderic would accompany him back to Gondor, but Roderic found himself wanting to stay awhile in Rohan - he liked the lush tall windswept grasslands. Now that the last days of winter had receded, the days were longer and much warmer in these southern climes than at home in Beorn, and he thought he would seek further employment in Rohan.

Adrahil had introduced Roderic to his friend Goldred, and given Goldred a glowing reference. Goldred had been keen to employ the young man from Beorn although so far he had proved evasive about what Roderic's duties would be. For now Roderic was content to accompany the wealthy merchant around Edoras as he conducted his business at the markets and taverns in the city.

As evening closes by, the feast begins. Soon tables are put together in the hall of Meduseld. Well-seasoned poultries in wine sauces, roasted and stuffed piglet served with creamy jelly, lamb with garlic, crispy wild pig tails, charred cabbage, and a wide variety of fishes smoked and fresh are laid between the guests. A cask of beer is opened up, and Dowinion wine is served.
Twice you can hear a dwarf laugh out for some reason and shouting « Cabbage ! Cabbage ! Can you hear me ?! » Overall, good humor reigns, all the guests are enjoying themselves.

Most of you are unfamiliar with Rohan customs, but even though it's plain to see that the king and his queen seem to be from a different breed entirely. While most Rohirrim, including the two marshals of the realm, speak and laugh loudly, noisily enjoying themselves, Thengel and Morwen display composed manners more akin to the elves.