Caged!

[Palandil]

With the strange voice sounding elvish, Fengel came back from his nap with a start.  There was something eerie about the tinkling and the voice, though it was elvish.  Fengel began to look for what direction it could be coming from, and watched the Dunmen for a chance of escape if they became involved.

[tomcat]

OOC: Is there any possibility of anyone hearing and understanding what the words were upon the wind?  If so,
Language: Sindarin - (4+2)+7=13
Language: Quenya - (5+4)+3=12

OOC: Hey Matt, there is no discernible statements that you hear in the whispers, Durgil could only recognize a few Sindarin and Quenya words and there was no relation to them, meaning they did not correlate to a particular topic. It is more like the hushed mumbling of a crowd in a movie theater before the flick starts - you know it is english being spoken around you, but you can't pick up any one conversation.

Seriand's voice cut the tension of the moment causing all of the Dunlenders to look to the stockade, and there was no friendly face amongst them. The Hill-folk did not understand a word of what the Elf said, but they did recognize the same language that resonated in the winds. It was enough to cause a reaction.

The warrior that had led the Company here strode hard down to the stockade and grabbed up one of the guard's spears, as he did he yelled strange words at Seriand that were obvious curses. He opened the stockade gate and moved inside with his guards fanning in behind him. Dirnhael and Fengel prepared to stave off any potential threat from the warriors, but it was not to be - a deep, commanding voice yelled out in the Dunmen's tongue...

"Hurd! Crolmonna!"

It was one of the elders that spoke and his words brought the warrior to a halt, yet he stared at Fengel with challenging eyes. As the two Men glared at each other and the Hill-folk looked to their apparent leaders, another voice began to call from the edge of the woods that marched down from the ridge.

"Hors! Hors! Na loda ay rida!"

Again and again the voice called out the same words and then two men came running into the village. They talked quickly to the elder all the while pointing back to the woods and the ridgeline. The warrior facing off Fengel immediately turned, and ran towards the center of the settlement giving a great whistle as he did. To him, men from the village began to assemble while he spoke with the elders and newcomers.

Back in the stockade the Company was not forgotten, as the gate was reclosed by the spearmen there, left again to wonder what was going on and why they were being held.

[sdrotar]

"It would appear that our hosts have company," Dirnhael said, curiosity creeping onto his voice.
Under his breath to Fengel, he whispered, "This may be our opportunity. Stay sharp."

[Palandil]

With a stern look and a nod, Fengel acknowledged Dirnhael's order.  He laced his fingers and cracked his joints, then his neck side to side.  His only weapons were his fists now, and he set his mind to strike a hard blow when the opportunity presented its self.  He looked over the fencing that contained them for the best spot to leap over that would offer any advantage against their hosts.  He then looked over the guards to determine which one would be easiest fought.  Once he had one of their spears he knew how to wield it, and would use it well to gain their freedom.

[tomcat]

The Company watched as the Dunlanders conversed and then a group of ten or so grabbed up spear and axe and ran towards the forest that lay not far away. The group was once again led by the warrior who had brought them all here - they quickly disappeared under the eaves of the woods and up the ridgeline.

Dirnhael watched as one of the elders walked away from the circle and approached the stockade. He came close and the Dunadan could see the man was missing his left eye. He said nothing, only stared at the captives. It was Edrahil that spoke and actually startled Dirnhael from his thoughts.

"I do not understand why they have us here? But if it is due to their fear of the voices on the wind and that we may aid them in it, as Seriand spoke, then their purposes are for naught."

The Elf stood and walked to the stockade fence - this had the effect of bringing the elder to a halt and to cause the guards to lower their spears in a threatening manner. Edrahil looked back at Dirnhael.

"You see Dirnhael... these voices that we hear are not Elven spirits that linger here in Middle-earth. Elves do not linger as ghosts or phantoms, as do the spirits of Men... and why that is I have no clue. But it is true; the land never forgets when Elves reside in a place, and Eregion was one of the largest settlements in this region of Endor. What we have heard and seen is the impression left by my kin."

The Dunmen could see that the Elf was not going to be causing any trouble and relaxed their guard slightly; that was when the Company were surprised once again.

In broken Westron, the elder began to speak, "You expect us to believe that what we see and what we hear are not spectres of your folk... tormenting my people, making them sick and stealing them from our homes?"

The old Man stared angrily, "These ghosts have tormented us since we came into this land... driven out by the Orcs of the mountains and the tall warriors to the south! Even hidden here in this valley we find no solace... and our numbers have begun to dwindle."

[sdrotar]

"Dwindle? Surely your people do not fall to mere voices upon the wind," said Dirnhael.

What Edrahil had said filled Dirnhael with awe and uneasiness. If this was the land itself... a chill ran up Dirnhael's spine as he waited for the Dunman to answer.

[tomcat]

OOC: The conversation between the elder and the Company is going to require Language (Westron) Tests. Though I may write the responses legibly, it is only because I am lazy and do not want to try and create a new language or broken english.  The Dunmen only has a skill of +3 in Language (Westron) and so we will use the communication rules from the PotW. If a test is failed, obviously the message did not get across...

To convey his last message to the Company (from the previous thread)  is a TN 12 Language (Westron) test:
Language (Westron) +3, Specialty +2, Wits +1
Roll(2d6)+6: 5,1,+6 Total:12 SUCCESS

The company understands him obviously due to them all having at least a +6 in Westron.

To understand Dirnhael's response TN 10:
Roll(2d6)+6: 3,4,+6 Total:13 SUCCESS

To communicate back to the Company TN 12:
Roll(2d6)+6: 6,6,+6 Total:18 +3 = 21 Extraordinary Success (I think this test roll success will buy a bit of back and forth talk)

"The wind blows evil in this land, and since we have come, my people have fallen ill. We cannot leave for they are to sick to move..." replied the elder Dunman. He then lifted a frail arm and his finger pointed to Edrahil, "It is the curse of the Oelfes upon this land that makes this; it is them who must tell us how they sicken our folk!"

[sdrotar]

This was beyond Dirnhael. He admired those who walked the paths of spirit and light, but that path was not his.
He looked to his good friend and advisor, Edrahil - he needed the Elf's sage wisdom once again.

[tomcat]

OOC: I think BrianM is still on vacation, or should just about be back, but in the meantime I will continue RP'ing Edrahil.

The Sindar looked to the old man with a furrow of puzzlement on his brow, "Your folk are sick?"

Edrahil began to get very concerned. Not just for the Dunmen and their unfortunate situation, but for he and his companions... especially Durgil. He looked back at the two Dunadan, "The wind has carried sickness into these lands to be sure, but it is not by any doings of the Elves!"

He looked back to the old man, "Sir, I have seen no sick amongst you - where are they?"

The Dunman elder looked as if he was trying to sort through Edrahil's words, but then understanding came to his face. He pointed his hand to a lone hut that sat furthest from the others. The Company could see that wood, sod and stone structure had no activity around it and a heavy woolen blanket hung across its door.

"Songs come on the wind and my people die... or disappear," was the the old man's reply.

"Disappear?" thought Edrahil...

[BrianM]

[OOC] I'm back! Just finished catching up. Thanks for playing Edrahil in my absense.

[IC] Edrahil looked at the Dunman, the puzzlement plain upon his face. "When was the last ... disappearance?"

[tomcat]

OOC: Welcome back Brian! I hope you had a nice vacation.

[BrianM]

OOC: Very nice vacation thanks! It was our first trip camping with our kids (two girls ages 8 and 5). They did well and we had a lot of fun.

[tomcat]

To Edrahil's query, the elder anwered, "It was three days past. In the midst of that eve, Hurd's daughter who had taken to fever went to rest for the evening and in the morning, she was gone. No word, no trail, nothing."

He then added, "That night too did the voices speak on the wind! Voices in the tongue of your folk! BEWITCHMENTS!"

The elder loudly stated his last word causing the folk around him to turn.

[Wiseman]

"Let us aid you in finding your kin then. We have shown you nothing that should cause concern have we?"

[BrianM]

Edrahil gave the elder a harsh look, and said in a stern voice, "None of my folk are responsible for these tragedies that have beset your people. If you would but listen to us you would know this to be true. There are many powers in the land, however, that would have you believe us to be the source of this evil. Let us help you discover the truth behind these events that are happening."