Redemption: The Curse Breaker's Journey (Mods, please lock)

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Redemption: The Curse Breaker's Journey (Mods, please lock)

Postby SilverScribe » Fri May 17, 2002 6:59 am

...
======================================================================
REDEMPTION: The Curse Breaker's Journey
======================================================================

Please see the Redemption: A Word Aside thread FIRST, for guidelines, the Cast
of Characters, and joining requirements.

======================================================================

PROLOGUE: What has gone before . . .

She was born in the year 1002 of the Third Age, of an elven mother (Lethelian, born and raised in Lothlorien, but fled to the Great Greenwood) and a Númenorean father, in a cave in the northern wilds of Rhudaur, hard against the western feet of the Misty Mountains. Foretold as a son, but born a daughter, her Father decided that he would have a warrior to follow him regardless. As soon as she was tall enough to hold a weapon, he gifted her a Númenorean broadsword (Angamarth) and trained her as a warrior, settling for nothing short of excellence. She is near matchless with a blade, but will fight only when pressed.

Tall because of her mixed elven and Númenorean blood, she has her mother's golden hair and high cheekbones, but her fathers tanned skin and dark blue/violet eyes. She has always considered herself plain, unremarkable. She is spirited and deeply stubborn. Her mixed elven and nearly pure Númenorean blood also means that she will mark a longer lifetime than that of most humans, she will easily see three or four centuries.

She also has a streak of the old man's pride, the same sin passed down from his ancient ancestor. It is this pride coupled with a deep, natural hunger for knowledge that she inherits from her mother, that finally caused her to walk away and seek scholarly pursuits. Tired of the drunken coarseness of her father's company of men, she travels to Rivendell and begs the chance of learning from Elrond, who has no clue who she is but since she is half-elven like himself, he kindly grants her request. She spends about 10 years there, buried in the Libraries, then returns home with a fair number of treasured books, gifts from her teachers.

Her father immediately expects her to go back to war with him. A messenger has come from the south, bearing news of great importance. A shadow is falling on the great Greenwood, and strangers have come to both men and elves. Istari, they call themselves, and rumour has it that they are of the Valar, come to aid the peoples of Middle Earth against a growing evil that is whispered to be none other than Sauron, evil servant of ancient Melkor. New curses are heaped upon the memory of Isildur, for not destroying the One Ring when he had the chance.

But she does not want any truck with war, not any more. When she refuses her fathers orders, he flies into a rage and burns her books. Deaf to the calm reasoning of Lethelian, the old man slashes his hand with his dagger and takes his daughter by the throat, laying a blood curse on her:

"Long awaited, long desired,
born in the storm's last breath;
Cursed are you from that hour forth,
dross and emptiness is your worth,
shunned shall you be, from now 'til death.

Nothing are you, nothing were you born,
And nothing shall you ever be,
No land will keep you,
No man will have you,
No home or hearth shall you ever see.

'Til time itself, lays down to die,
no land shall you call home.
While none shall call you friend,
your own death you shall portend,
forever, in all, shall you walk alone."


He then turfs her out into the cold with nothing but the worst horse in the place, her broken sword and a servants cloak. He does not even furnish her with bread or water, but drives her out of his hall with further curses and threats. She is not to return.

She heads over the Misty Mountains, coming down the northernmost source of the Anduin then turning east, travelling along the feet of the Grey Mountains. In the Withered Heath her horse dies and she finally succumbs to thirst, cold and exhaustion. It is there that one of the Istari (one of the two that never came fully into the West and into contact with the other people of Middle Earth) finds her, nearly dead.

He takes her to one of his many homes, this one cut from the living rock of the Grey Mountains. Here, she recovers and becomes his student, since he sees the hunger for knowledge in her. He does not tell her his real name, but bids her call him Luinil, which is a name in the Elven tongue given to a star that shines with a blue light. She tells him her story and her true name, but she begs him never to speak of either. Because of her love of study and writing, he gives her a Westron title - SilverScribe, and a fond nickname, Scribbles.

He is aware of her bloodline, but says nothing. After many years, she finally learns of her heritage on her own. Against Luinil's advice, she goes home to confront her father and finds that he has allowed her mother to fade into shadow from grief. Forced by her father into a fight, she ends up taking his life, and in doing so, makes the blood curse he has put on her permanent.

She takes the proof of her ancestry from his corpse and buries him. She drives the last of her fathers men out into the wilderness. She raises a cairn to her mother, rips down and burns her Fathers banner and halls and then leaves. She returns to Luinil.

She studies with him for another 20 years or so, until the restlessness of her father's bloodline begins to make her fretful. Once more, against Luinil's advice, she is determined to set out and "see something of the world while I am young enough to endure hard travel." He presents her with a gift, her sword hilt is now graced by an Elven blade, inscribed with Elven runes, which when invoked can gather power to the hand of the speaker. But he insists that she remain long enough to learn the invocations and the safe use of this gift. She consents.

Finally, she can wait no longer and takes her leave of Luinil, again against his advice. She travels south, along the mighty Anduin, but just north of Lorien, finds herself strangely drawn to the three peaks of Caradhras, Fenuidhol and Celebdil. She follows the Redhorn Pass and on the shores of Mirrormere, is drawn into an unfortunate incident with a Black Sorcerer, Delkarnoth. He senses power in her, and he wants a companion, a mate. She refuses. So he offers her immortality, but at a terrible price. She refuses again. Enraged at what he views as an insult, he attempts to imprison her and a contest of wills ensues. She loses and he forces immortality upon her, chaining her spirit to the earth and taking the price she would not have willingly paid. In desperation, she draws on the power in the elven runes upon Celebamarth, and though she manages to escape it nearly costs her life, and the sorcerer is not killed but only wounded. His victory not only marks her by streaking her hair silver amid the blonde, but it has also left him with a thread of power over her. She flees north, back to Luinil, haunted and sprirtually broken. He takes her back in and begins the long healing process.

She passes centuries with him this time, training and learning while the history of Middle Earth is written. Evil is abroad again, orcs are multiplying and attacking the Dwarves. Hobbits migrate westward, settle at Bree and farther west. The witch-king rises and invades Arnor, Amon Sul is destroyed. Civil war and kin-strife begin, Osgiliath burns. War with the Harad comes and goes. The Great Plague comes, devastates Gondor and the White Tree in Minas Tirith dies. The plague spreads and even Eriador becomes desolate. Mordor is left unguarded. The white tower in Minas Anor is built and Gondor and Arnor form an alliance. Earnil II rises and the heirlooms of Arnor are given into the keeping of Elrond. The Witch King comes to Mordor and gathers the Nazgul, Durin VI is slain in Moria by a Balrog. The Silvan Elves of Lorien flee south, Amroth and Nimrodel are lost. Minas Ithil becomes Minas Morgul. Earur, King of Gondor rides to challenge Minas Morgul, is lost and so appears the first Ruling Steward of Gondor. News of all reaches Luinil, and he is often absent for long years, but still her studies go on.

Finally Luinil himself is stirred to travel once more. But now he must go far, and go alone. He and Scribbles finally part company. His route is unknown, hers takes her south to the Great Greenwood, now coming under a mighty shadow and called Mirkwood.

While the power of Dol Guldur grows, she enters Mirkwood, her errand is to seek the friends of her mother. She finds them and tells them of Lethelians fate. Some time later, while out on a long exploration, she is stopped by a party of elves out hunting for their elven lord, Cemandorin. The lords head steward, Lorfeldin, mistakes her for a male warrior and challenges her for trespassing on Lord Cemandorin's land, drawing his sword. He is surprised when the hooded and cloaked stranger draws a bright elven blade and bids him try his luck. Brilhennion, the youngest son of the elven lord, watches as the contest is joined. He is secretly delighted when the cocky steward is easily bested by the stranger and even more delighted when she reveals herself as a maid. He invites her to return to his fathers house as his guest.

It goes without saying that they become deeply attached. The old lord is not concerned, he has two older sons to carry on his house, so permission is given and they marry. The steward however, developes a deep hatred for Scribbles, mainly because she is only half-elven and because he senses there is something unatural about her. He spends his time spying on them, while she and Brilhennion spend a couple of centuries in bliss. He gifts her with an Elven bow and teaches her to use it, she develops her musical and artistic side and together they entertain his fathers halls with many hours of song and poetry. Then news comes that the Watchful peace is at an end, and the three sons leave to travel to Rivendell, to get news from the first White Council.

On the return trip, they are ambushed by a large body of Orcs and slain. Strangely enough, only the steward survives and returns to Lord Cemandorin with the news. Both the Elven lord and Scribbles are devastated with the news, and Lorfeldin immediately claims that Scribbles had secretly planned the ambush, so that she would inherit all Lord Cemandorin’s lands and holdings through her dead husband. The old Lord, deep in his grief, believes the steward and immediately orders Scribbles banished. She is shown off Lord Cemandorin's lands by an armed escort and forbidden to seek his halls again. Suspicious and heartbroken, she steals a horse and rides swiftly to the place of the ambush. There she finds the two eldest sons dead and in the midst of a large number of dead orcs and other fell creatures, Brilhennion. By some miracle he is still barely alive.

She is not equal to the healing of his wounds, but carries him away from the carnage, to the sheltering wood that borders the battlefield. His dying gift to her is a simple mithril ring, a plain band adorned with a single, golden mallorn leaf. His last act is to speak the words that will transfer the ring's power to her, but he dies before the final words are spoken. Thus, she she cannot wear the ring nor direct it, only draw it's power. She places it on the mithril chain that bears her fathers amulet. Both are carried hidden next to her flesh and never worn openly.

She raises another cairn and begins a life of wandering. Between her father's curse, the black sorcerers hold and Lord Cemandorin's edict, there is no rest and no home for her now. While the shadow grows, she travels. There is little of Middle Earth that does not pass under either her feet or the hooves of her various horses, except for the far East. She sees the end of Dragonkind, and the rebuilding of Dale. She meets Gandalf the Grey and they travel together for a time. From him, she learns of the nature of the shadow growing in the East.

She is on the run from the Black Sorcerer during the War of the Ring, when suddenly his pursuit falls off. She goes to Imladris where she finds the key to Brilhennion's betrayal, and so she is unable to answer the call to stand at the fields of Pellenor. Returning to Eriador, she learns of the War's outcome. However, Saurons defeat does not rid Middle Earth of all evil, and she knows that old scores will someday still need to be settled.

Wandering into the Lucky Fortune Inn one evening a few months ago, events are set in motion that even she could not have forseen. A Balrog forces her hand and in desperation, she helps the kind folk of the Inn. In doing so, she finds that there are stout and loyal hearts that will call her friend, thus holding her fathers curse at bay for a time. She becomes a Bard and attends a Beltaine festival, then is deeply honoured by being asked to conduct a Druids wedding for her own Guild Master and his beautiful bride. She dances for the first time in centuries with a tall, handsome Easterling. But the respite is brief. The time has come and she can delay no longer.

She will only have a future if she can cut what binds her to the past. The road awaits. Only this time, it seems that she will not have to walk it alone . . .

==========================================
The Starting Point: The Lucky Fortune Inn
==========================================

See next post for Summary :D

.
Last edited by SilverScribe on Wed Jul 13, 2005 7:59 am, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Fri May 17, 2002 3:27 pm

<BR>=====================================================<BR>The Starting Point: Summary of The Lucky Fortune Inn<BR>=====================================================<BR><BR><b>Wisteria:</b><BR><i>Wiste entered with a pack slung on her back.</i><BR><BR>Hello! <i>She called out to Vana and Tinu. Then she saw the Gondorian knight and blushed furiously. Why did that man make her feel so like a teenager? His manners were atrocious, he was snobbish and haughty. But he certainly was handsome enough.<BR><BR>She nodded in his direction and inquired to the bar in general:</i><BR><BR>Has anyone seen Scribbles yet?<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Matrim:</b><BR><BR><i>Mat heard a familair voice coming from inside the Inn so he pulled his pack up onto his back and walked inside.</i><BR><BR>Kuti, you rascal you. How have you been? Insult the stew again, I believe I heard you say. Dont make me throw you out again.<BR><BR><i>Mat broke out into a wide grin and went over to shake the man's hand. </i><BR><BR>You know, for are people always fighting each other, we seem to get along pretty good. Your not half bad for a Gondorian.<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>SilverScribe:</b><BR><BR><i>As dawn began to pearl the eastern sky, Scribbles rose from her seat by the window, shouldered her pack and headed downstairs to the quiet of the common room, dressed once more in her usual travel attire. Gone was the new dark green suede finery, in it’s place the familiar well worn soft greys and dusty blues. Over all, of course, was the usual long elven cloak, pushed off the shoulders, the hood back. <BR><BR>Hobbituk was sitting on a stool behind the bar, lazily polishing a few tankards. Wisteria sat with him, a pack by her side. Mat was talking to the Gondorian noble he had once thrown out of the Inn. She sighed and set her pack down by the bar, then fished out some coins and a key. </i><BR><BR>“Master Hobbituk, thank you for everything. This should cover whatever I owe for the room, here’s the key. Also, there is a little extra that I hope will cover the provisions you and Vana were so kind to put together.”<BR><BR>“I’m going out to saddle my horse. Wiste, that spare mare from the picnic is yours if you want her, I’ll saddle her too if you like.” I’ll be outside if and when the others stir.”<BR><BR><i>With that, she picked up her pack and looked around the homey room where a few newcomers, including an ent, sat or snoozed in chairs by the fire or in shadowy corners. She smiled to herself. Exactly what she had done many times when she had first arrived. She looked back at Hobbituk, winked, then headed out the door for the stables.</i><BR><BR>((OOC: Word Aside and RP threads are up in the Pony. When everybody gets up and we go, the action should switch over to there.))<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Wisteria:</b><BR><BR>I'll go with you, Scribbles. I'll need to know how to saddle my own horse; you can't be doing it for me every day.<BR><BR><i>With a small sigh, she glanced again at the Gondorian. Looked like the timing wasn't right -- again. Oh, well.<BR><BR>She fastened her cloak and slung her pack over one shoulder. With hugs to Vana, Tinu and Hobbie, she quietly left to help Scribbles with the horses.</i><BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>SmaugsBane:</b><BR><BR><i>SB, who'd already said his goodbyes to Vana, Tinu and Hobbi, was in the stable, repacking his saddlebags. Since he'd just arrived from the road the night before, he never unpacked, however, his rations and such were depleted and he needed to replenish his travelling supplies.<BR><BR>When Scribbles and Wiste entered the barn, he greeted them with a silent smile.</i><BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Bardhwyn:</b><BR><BR><i>Bardhwyn clattered down the stairs, armed, cloaked and with her quiver on her back. Once on the bottom landing she stopped dead in her tracks. The atmosphere of the Inn was somber.<BR><BR>'Of course, it would be.', she thought.' Our meetings and our partings mark the change of time...'<BR><BR>She nodded to Hobbituk and the Gondorian and gave a smile to Vana and Tinu. She noticed a redness to their eyes and she sighed. It saddened her to see them pained. Though she was an infrequent visitor to The Lucky Fortune, she had a great love for it and for the people who make it possible. Perhaps they didn't realize. Perhaps she didn't make it known. Perhaps she didn't let them know her...<BR><BR>Inwardly she stopped herself from persuing those thoughts... she had to be careful - ever so careful. Exiled traitors have little scope for friendship. Those who she dare befriend are an exceptional few. The rest she had to deceive or avoid.<BR>She gingerly approached the bar.</i><BR><BR>"Morning, all. Thank you for your hospitality once again." She placed some money on the bar. I ... I want you to know I much I appreciate this place. It is the closest thing to a home I have." <i>She gave an embarrassed smile and looked at her boots. She sighed, looked about, still embarrassed. </i>"Goodbye. May we meet again."<BR><BR><i>She quickly exited the Inn and made her way to the stables. <BR>Once in the door she caught sight of a man, dark, standing with his back towards her. She recognized the rasping whisper of voice...</i><BR><BR>SB!!<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>SmaugsBane:</b><BR><BR>"Bardhwyn, my sister-in-arms!!!"<BR><BR><i>SB embraced Bardi and held her out at arm's length. Speaking as loud as his broken larynx would allow, so that Scribbles and Wiste could hear.</i><BR><BR>"Noone told me you were here. Are you joining us on this adventure?"<BR><BR><i>He let go of her arms.</i><BR><BR>"I am."<BR><BR>"Well, Silver Scribe shall be well escorted, of that there can be no doubt."<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Vanaladial:</b><BR><BR>Hobbi, Tinu and Vana brought the packs out of the provisions that were made ready for the journey and made sure each person in the group got one. The extra two were placed upon the pack horse so that the extra provisions would not be left behind.<BR><BR>Vana gave a final hug to Scribbles giving her a word of encouragement to find her way and accomplish all that her heart desires. To Leoba she gave a hug and a kiss on the cheek and wished her a speedy return. Then to SB she gave a kiss upon his cheek and told him to take care of he and Leoba and hurry home for the homefires would remain burning for them.<BR><BR>Mat handed Vana the note and key then he kissed her cheek and turning mounted his horse. Vana reached up and placed her hand near her heart where now hung a pouch with the very special stone it. She smiled and tried to look brave as the group prepared to head out. <BR><BR>Everyone that meant anything to her now was leaving it seemed. She knew that Erinhue would have Aerin and Hobbi would have Lurea, to love and hang onto but she felt so all alone. Then turning she sees Tinu sobbing and realizes she has a friend who still needs her to for she was also alone, so placing her arm around Tinu they watch as the company waited to head out.<BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>SilverScribe:</b><BR><BR><i>Scribbles led her tall warhorse out into the courtyard in front of the Inn where the rest of the party was already milling about. When Vana hugged her, she hugged her back, then bent and whispered in the pretty half-elf’s ear. </i><BR><BR>“I’m going to miss you too, but I know that all our friends who remain will be here for you. Now, be sure to see Matrim before he leaves, I think he has something for you, okay?”<BR><BR><i>One by one, the travellers were making their goodbyes. As the sun slowly lifted itself off the eastern horizon, Scribbles bit down her fears and her own sadness at parting, and swung easily up into her saddle to wait. Soon, she thought, very soon now.</i><BR><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Leoba:</b><BR><BR><i>Leoba had clattered down the stairs in a state of disorganisation, dressed in her travelling clothes; a tunic, hose a hood. Her hair was still unbound and her pack half open. </i><BR><BR>“So sorry I’m late, I’m afraid I overslept…”<BR><BR><i>Handing her pack to Dirk, Leoba went over to where Vana stood with tear-stained cheeks, in the company of Tinu and Lurea. The young woman hugged her Elven friends in turn, coming to Vana last of all.</i><BR><BR>“My dearest friend, It pains me to leave you like this. Keep yourself safe and well and look after Hue and Hobbi and the girls.” <i>A tear sprang unbidden into Leoba’s eyes and a lump rose in her throat. <BR><BR>Taking the bag back from Dirk and tying it tight shut, she fastened her few belongings onto her solid but somewhat dozy mount, inappropriately named ‘Warrior’. She double-checked that her bow was secure in its linen bag and that the spare string was to hand. Then Dirk helped her up into the saddle.<BR><BR>Leoba scraped back her hair and began to plait it into a tight braid, waiting for the signal to set off.</i><BR>=====================<BR><BR><b>Bardhwyn:</b><BR><BR>Thain pawed impatiently at the ground, causing Bardhwyn to lean over, pat him and coo a few words of patience into his ears. Her gear was well secured, along with the extra last minute provisions so generously offered by Vana. Thenie sat astride StormWing and together they watched all the goodbyes in progress.<BR><BR>Bardhwyn looked over to her Rohirrim friend, then to the other travellers - all friends - and silently assessed their individual strengths... and their weaknesses.<BR><BR>Overall she determined they were a strong band of wayfarers, prepared and courageous. What was it Ani-la would say - her teacher who lived in the East...<BR><BR><i>Resistance to fear, that is courage, yes. Mastery of fear..that is courage, yes. Not the absence of fear. The fear will be there. What you do with it..ah! That is the key!</i><BR><BR>Bardhwyn looked over to Scribbles and gave a wink and smile, then a roll of the eyebrows which silently said..<BR>'Can we go now?'<BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Fri May 17, 2002 3:29 pm

<BR><i>When Leoba and SB were mounted, Bardhwyn brought her mount close to Scribbles’ and grinned, rolling her eyes.<BR><BR>Scribbles turned in her saddle. Expectant faces looked back at her and she suddenly reddened, realizing that she had not really formulated any clear plan. Thinking she would be going alone, she had simply assumed she would just go and the route would not matter. She cleared her throat and spoke loudly enough for the small company to hear.</i><BR><BR>“Ahem, yes well, I guess we’re off then. I have business first in southern Mirkwood, and being early spring, I’d like to spare the horses any mountain crossings if possible. <i>Here she grinned at Bardhwyn and Thenie.</i> Since I’m in no hurry, I thought we’d head back along the same route we came from the festival in Fanghorn. We can head south through The Angle, then cross into Eregion to start. There’s good camping on that route and good forage for the horses.”<BR><BR><i>Heads nodded and no one protested. She smiled at Matrim, then glanced at each of the others in turn.</i><BR><BR>“Ah well and good then. My lords and ladies, the day grows no younger. Let’s get started.”<BR><BR><i>Almost as one, the small company nudged their mounts and started down the road away from the Inn.</i><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby wisteria » Fri May 17, 2002 8:12 pm

<i>Wiste had learned long ago how to ride a horse; it wasn't all that difficult. But there just had not been many opportunities. Her family had never owned anything but plow horses, so she was better at driving a wagon than sitting on horseback. She squirmed a little in the saddle, glad for the extra petticoat she'd put on that morning. When the others weren't looking, she'd tucked it up underneath her, so there were actually several layers between the saddle and her skin. Still, she expected she'd be sore by evening.</i><BR><BR>"So, Scribbles!" <i>she called out.</i> "Where is it we will end up, anyway? How far away?"
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby Leoba » Sat May 18, 2002 2:24 am

<i>The horses’ hooves on the road gave rise to clouds of dust; it was exceedingly dry even though the year was not yet half gone. The company would be filthy by nightfall if the terrain continued in this fashion. <BR><BR>With some pride, Leoba looked around at the other six riders. There was no question that they were a fine group; a combination of skilled warriors and stout hearts but above all, honest and loyal friends to Scribbles and to each other.<BR><BR>The young woman noticed how uncomfortable Wiste seemed to be on horseback and felt for her. Indeed, Wiste would be feeling the pain herself by the end of an unaccustomed long day in the saddle. For herself, she felt most ashamed that she was riding a steed as pathetically ploddingly useless as Warrior was, particularly embarrassing considering that she was alongside Dirk upon Midnight and a finer stallion would be difficult to find. <BR><BR>Nevertheless, she was in her element. Out on the open road once more, horseflesh under her and the fresh air invigorating her soul. Of Ithilien she was by birth, but her mother‘s Rohirrim blood coursed deep through her veins. Like a child out at play she grinned from ear to ear, yet still at the back of her mind she knew that this was no holiday jaunt. But surely any potential unpleasantries could be sidelined for a couple of days, couldn’t they?</i><BR><BR>
User avatar
Leoba
Mariner


 
Posts: 6895
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 2:06 pm
Location: Troubadour of Ithilien, dwelling within sight of Weathertop
Top

Postby Matrim » Sat May 18, 2002 7:17 am

<i>Mat held his horse up a little from the group and took the rear postion in the group. He tied his scarf around his face. His still couldnt shake the tactics he knew wise, even if they were on safe lands. He also wasnt in the mood to talk. </i><BR><BR><i>Thoughts were running through his head. His men were dying, and he left to pursue a woman. What kind of leader was he? He then realized he said the last thought to loud as Leoba dropped back next to him.</i><BR><BR>Your a good man, Mat. Your army will be fine. You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of thousands.<BR><BR><i>She grinned at him and then let her horse run free once more.</i><BR><BR><i>Mat thought about the words she said and sgreed with them. He smiled under the scarf and started looking around. His instinct told him something wasnt right.</i>
User avatar
Matrim
Ranger of the North


 
Posts: 4370
Joined: Wed Apr 03, 2002 7:35 am
Location: Watching the waves on the Sea of Rhûn
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Sat May 18, 2002 7:34 am

<BR><i>Scribbles turned slightly in her saddle as Wiste pushed her mare alongside, her face flushed and smiling. </i><BR><BR>“Well, I am not certain where the road will ultimately end, that will depend where my final quarry has decided to hide himself.” <i> At the puzzled look on the other girl’s face, she continued quickly. </i><BR><BR>“But our first destination is a certain minor lord’s hall, deep in southern Mirkwood. We will take a few days to get there, there is no need to push ourselves.”<BR><BR><i> She smiled at the quick look of relief that washed over Wiste's face, and knew that the girl would be feeling todays ride when they camped tonight.<BR><BR>She also noticed that Matrim had dropped back to ride guard. A very wise, and very natural warrior’s precaution. She approved and though it relieved her immediate fears, it did not soothe her conscience. Had she been selfish? She could not shake an overwhelming feeling of guilt, that she had accepted help from people that now might get hurt because of her own problems. </i><BR><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby wisteria » Sat May 18, 2002 8:12 am

<i>Wiste grinned at hearing their first destination named. Mirkwood. She'd been near there recently when attempting to buy yarn for the Guild. So at least this first stage of their journey would be familiar.<BR><BR>She followed Scribbles' glance back at Mat and realized he was, what did they call it? Being rear guard. She nodded to herself in satisfaction. These people were good and knew their jobs. Whatever the problems that might lie ahead, she knew they could handle it.<BR><BR>Key word, she realized, was "they." She herself was not much of a fighter and she hoped she wouldn't get any of them into trouble with her inexperience. Still, </i> someone <i>needed to take care of this group -- make sure they ate and put on their raincloaks. And she knew just the person to help them with all those little details.<BR><BR>With another grin at Scribbles, she moved her horse back in line.</i>
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby Bardhwyn » Sat May 18, 2002 11:36 am

<i>Two crows lazily swooped across the road before them, cawing loudly. The sun, being bright, reflected off their jet black bodies as they alighted to the ground and pecked on a piece of carrion. Bardhwyn nudged Thain up alongside Scribbles as her eyes followed the birds, yet she casually directed a question to her friend as she watched them...</i><BR><BR>"Scribbles, I couldn't help but overhear...did you say a minor lord in Southern Mirkwood? Edain or Eldar? Could you venture a name, perchance? I might know of it."<BR><BR><i>Bardhwyn kept her face impassive as she awaited Scribbles response and hoped it would be someone far in the south, far from Thranduil and his court....</i>
User avatar
Bardhwyn
Mariner

 
Posts: 5751
Joined: Mon Feb 11, 2002 3:04 pm
Location: Lost in Rhudaur
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Sat May 18, 2002 4:54 pm

<BR><i> She was jolted out of her reverie by Bardhwyn, asking something. She re-focused on the present with an effort and turned to glance at the Archer. </i><BR><BR>“The lord is Eldar, and of no great note, not as far as Elven royalty is concerned anyway. His name is Lord Cemandorin, and when the time comes, I will tell the whole company what needs to be known.”<BR><BR>“Ah, yes, well thanks. Just one other question? How far ‘south’ is south Mirkwood?” <i> Was there just a hint of anxiety in the Archers voice?<BR><BR>Scribbles bit her lip, looked down where one hand loosely held the reins, then looked back up and squinted into the distance.</i><BR><BR>“His lands and estates lie north and east of Dol Guldur, not far from the edge of the Greenwood, near a place called the East Bight.” <i> She shot a look at the rider next to her.</i> “Why do you ask?”<BR><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby Thenie » Sat May 18, 2002 10:25 pm

<BR><i>Thenie had left the inn quietly, out of her place among so many fine people, fast friends already. She felt better out upon the road. <BR><BR>Thenie possessed many gifts – a heritage of her people, she often liked to say – and one of them was a remarkable way of rearing and retaining horses. Her father, a soldier by rights, was a breeder by love, and his love had passed to Thenie. She had specially raised and bred many horses from the foal, a few of which her father gave to her as her very own, in appreciation for her fine eye and skills. Even at the tender age of ten, she was matching and mating in manner that far outdid many of her father’s peers. But the </i>retaining<i> of the horses was the more exceptional skill, which Thenie often wondered at. Didn’t seem natural, she thought.<BR><BR>And so that morning, before they left on their quest, Thenie simply left the inn and wandered into a field close by. The night before she had focused her thoughts on a particular horse, and Thenie’s strange type of intuition did not deceive her. Leading SteadyWing, her horse from previous journeys into the field, she found StormWing at the ready. Thenie had quickly switched saddles while pondering the odd power she seemed to possess. Isn’t natural, she thought to herself again, while she sent SteadyWing off, knowing the horse would make his way home.<BR><BR><BR><BR>But then again, Thenie thought, smiling in the light, traveling with her new companions, it certainly is useful! Here she was traveling again, with a new horse beneath her: StormWing. Storm was a different sort of stallion than the previous, which was built more for endurance. Storm was feisty, and Thenie liked that. In excellent shape, proud and strong – as all horses from Rohan are – Storm had been bred as an answer to Thenie’s questions of nature. Like a storm, strong and sudden, he was an excellent battle stallion, but his color had been truly a work of art: a gray that had tendency to darken, as if it clouded on its own.<BR><BR>Yes, Thenie smiled to herself as the party traveled on, truly this was her element. Soon she began to notice that another of her new mates did not quite feel the comfort she did. Thenie smiled, recognizing that the one they called Wiste was not an old favorite of the saddle. She drew Storm up to Wiste in companionable silence, rustling a bit in her own packs before turning to speak, a cloak on now on her lap.<BR><BR></i>“Wiste, they call you?” She began tentatively, and Wiste nodded pleasantly, “Thenie of Rohan, pleased to meet. I noticed – if you don’t mind me saying – a certain uncomfort in your saddle. Now, I don’t why I bothered to travel all this way with it, but I’ve always kept this blanket with me.”<BR><BR><i>Thenie lift was seemed a normal blanket to put between any horse and his saddle, green, emblazoned with the White Horse of Rohan upon it.</i><BR><BR>“You see, my family gave this to me, eons ago, and I can’t seem to part with it. At our next break, give it a try and I promise you a significant difference.”<BR><BR><i>Thenie handed the saddle blanket to a surprised Wiste and darted away suddenly to where Bardhwyn and Scribbles rode, the two people she truly knew on this journey. She felt suddenly shy, boldly giving away a gift like that. But she knew the blanket would help immensely, from personal experience. Whatever it was that went into the making of that blanket so thin, and without being uncomfortable for the horse, made it the greatest of padding for the new rider's behind.<BR><BR>She was drawn from her discomfort by Bardhwyn’s questioning – </i> How far ‘south’ is south Mirkwood?<i> – and couldn’t suppress a snort, though she knew the significance of the question.<BR><BR>Thenie quickly took to silence again as Bardhwyn shot her the most withering of looks, attempting to regain a serious countenance. </i><BR>
User avatar
Thenie
Rider of the Mark

 
Posts: 685
Joined: Sun Jan 06, 2002 1:37 pm
Top

Postby Bardhwyn » Sun May 19, 2002 6:29 am

<i>Bardhwyn smiled - once having regained her serious countenance, of course. 'Like I need to tell you, Scribbles?' she thought. Bardhwyn then stopped and recollected what parts of her past she'd had opportunity to tell her new friend. Perhaps she'd failed to mention her three years at the court Thranduil as a young woman. She'd be recognized, immediately, of course by any of Thranduil's court, for Elves have long memories.<BR><BR>She cleared her throat and looked askance at her friend, first having seen who, other than Thenie, was in ear-shot. </i><BR><BR>"I would like to avoid any Royal Eldar entanglements."<i> she said quietly. With that, Bardhwyn gave Scribbles a small grin and a quick wink. She turned to Thenie with an even wider grin...</i><BR><BR>"Thenie, I bet you three ales at the next ale house that I will reach that outcrop of rock ahead before you! C'mon, let's see what that new steed of yours can do!"<BR><BR><i>Without waiting, Bardhwyn spurred Thain with a earsplitting whoop and dashed ahead....</i><BR><BR>
User avatar
Bardhwyn
Mariner

 
Posts: 5751
Joined: Mon Feb 11, 2002 3:04 pm
Location: Lost in Rhudaur
Top

Postby wisteria » Sun May 19, 2002 7:05 am

<i>Wiste was surprised at the gift of the Rider of Rohan. They were acquaintences that had seen each other several times, but never formally met until this very moment. Her cheeks grew ever-so-slightly pink as she realized she'd not hid her discomfort as well as she thought she had.</i><BR><BR>"I'm very pleased to meet you, Thenie. Thank you for the loan. When we stop for lunch, if you would be willing, will you show me it's proper placement?"<BR><BR><i>Getting her reassurances, Wiste watched as Thenie moved her horse forward, then race off in hot pursuit of Bardwyn. Those two sure could ride!</i>
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Sun May 19, 2002 4:39 pm

<BR><i>Scribbles sighed as Bardhwyn and Thenie raced ahead, glad for their show of high spirits. They would get dampened soon enough.<BR><BR>She turned in her saddle to check on the rest of the small company. Wiste rode just behind her, Leoba and SmaugsBane came next and Matrim was still riding rear guard, his stance upright in his saddle and his eyes alert.<BR><BR>She turned back to the front and began thinking of how she would frame her words when the time came to tell the others what they would eventually have to know. She mentally mapped out the distances for the route that had been slowly clarifying in her mind. It would be at least a fortnight before they crossed the Parth Celebrant and be able to get their first sight of south Mirkwood, so she had a little time at least. And a lot could happen between now and then.</i><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby Matrim » Mon May 20, 2002 12:37 am

<i>Mat's mind was at ease. The thoughts had calmed and he didnt worry as much. Being out of the Inn helped much as well. The last time he had been gone for and extended period was his abduction. He constantly scanned the surrondings, though his eyes werent elvish he would bet he could spot something before anyone else. It was part of his gift.</i><BR><BR><i>Mat sat on his horse with a small grin in his face when Leoba dropped back next to him. He jumped when she spoke to him.</i><BR><BR>Mat you dont have to be so anti-social. You can ride rear guard just behind us and converse. Now take off that silly scarf and come up here.<BR><BR><i>Mat looked at her. He was getting ready to speak when he saw movement on the horzion. </i><BR><BR>I have to talk with Scribbles, Ill be right back.<BR><BR><i>Not want to alarm anyone in case it was a flase alarm, he rode up casually to Scribbles and removed his scarf.</i><BR><BR>Scribbles my dear, look over my shoulder. On the horzion, I see movement. Whatever it is, its still a good distance away. I hink we might want to take caution and treat it like an enemy. There are to many unreasonable sorts roaming around these days.
User avatar
Matrim
Ranger of the North


 
Posts: 4370
Joined: Wed Apr 03, 2002 7:35 am
Location: Watching the waves on the Sea of Rhûn
Top

Postby Bardhwyn » Mon May 20, 2002 12:00 pm

<i>Thain worked hard and Bardhwyn had given him a free reign but Thenie slowly overtook them both as she expertly coaxed Storm on. They passed the outcrop of granite on their left but they kept the race going, Bardhwyn stubbornly wanting to best her friend and Thenie, knowing this, was happy to oblige in the contest.<BR><BR>Thain broke out of his gallop on his own and slowed, gradually, to a canter, then a trot. Finally he came to a walk and stopped. Bardhwyn watched as Storm spirited Thenie farther down the dirt track. Thain had never done this before and though she was irritated at losing, AGAIN, to Thenie her concern for Thain quickly outweighed her upset. She slid off her saddle and took Thain by the bridle..</i><BR><BR>"What is it, boy? What happened?" <i>She patted his nose and neck while he stood and breathed hard. His hide was glistening with sweat.</i><BR>"I've got to remember you're not as young as you used to be, don't I."<i> She looked in the direction where Thenie and Storm flew and saw them returning. Thenie, of course, wearing a triumphant grin..<BR><BR></i>"If at first you don't succeed...", <i>she called out..</i><BR><BR>"Yes, I know, Thenie, try, try again. One of these days I will beat you in a horse race. I can feel it! Hell, I can taste it!"<i><BR><BR>Bardhwyn returned her attention to Thain and carefully examined his legs and each hoof. He was shy of his hind left leg. She had to coax him two or three times to show his hoof and none too happily.<BR>Thenie by this time had come up along side.</i>"Is he alright?"<BR><BR>"I don't know. He's shy of his hind left leg. That's not like him but the shoe looks fine and the hoof is clean enough. Maybe he's aging, Thenie." <i>Bardhwyn felt her heart twinge for she and Thain had been through much together. </i><BR><BR>"We've pulled far ahead of the others."<i> she observed,</i> "I think I will walk him back and we can meet them as they approach."<i><BR>Bardhwyn's glance traced the horizon and she saw distant specks moving. Her scar twinged.</i><BR><BR>"Oi, Oi. Thenie. Something wicked this way comes..",<i> she said pointing at the horizon.</i>"Quick, let's get back to the others."
User avatar
Bardhwyn
Mariner

 
Posts: 5751
Joined: Mon Feb 11, 2002 3:04 pm
Location: Lost in Rhudaur
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Mon May 20, 2002 3:32 pm

<BR><i> She glanced in the direction Matrim indicated, then squinted against the glare. There was something there all right, Mat’s mention of movement was exactly that. She wondered briefly at this, but her attention was immediately diverted to what Mat couldn’t see, for she could. It was a party of men, a fairly large one, riding hard and fast in their direction. She doubted that the other party had spotted them, but there was no real cover this close to the river, only scrub and waving grass and the occasional rocky outcropping. The angle of the road and the speed and direction of the approaching party made meeting inevitable. She turned a grim smile to Matrim. </i><BR><BR>“Alert SmaugsBane and the others, keep them together. You were right, it is something, and I agree with your idea of caution. It is a party of Men, at least a dozen and we can’t avoid them.”<BR><BR><i> Putting two fingers in her mouth, she whistled sharply at the two riders who had raced ahead and were now stopped some distance away. They needed to return, as quickly as they could. </i><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby wisteria » Mon May 20, 2002 6:04 pm

<i>Wiste jumped at Scribbles' whistle. She'd been off daydreaming about her bad timing with the Gondorian knight back at the Lucky Fortune; the whistle bumped her out of her reverie. She was surprised to see Mat's hood thrown back; he seemed to be staring at something off in the distance. She squinted her eyes, but could see little in the sun's glare. Still, she saw the tenseness in both Mat and Scribbles and patted the stout stick she'd threaded through her packs. She also still had Thenie's blanket on her lap, waiting for their first stop. Thank goodness her little mare was a quiet one and Wiste didn't need to do much to keep her going along with the others. She let the reins drop for a moment and refolded the blanket. It could also be a weapon if there was danger ahead.</i>
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby Matrim » Tue May 21, 2002 12:02 am

<i>Mat pulled a little on Theo's regins and they stopped on the side of the road. He reached back and freed his spear from back of the saddle and checked his scimitars clear in thier sheaths. Holding his spear in his had Leoba and Smaugsbane rode up beside him.</i><BR><BR>Judging from the way you are acting, I deem we might see some trouble. <i>Leoba asked.</i><BR><BR><i>Mat just nodded and waited for them to pass as they prepared themselves. He then took up the rear guard position once more, constantly looking around for anything that moved. The scarf had once again covered his face showing nothing but his eyes. Leoba was a bit perplexed and rode beside him again.</i><BR><BR>Mat why do you wear that scarf around your face and neck? <i>She probed.</i><BR><BR>It is an old tradtion of the East. In death your enemy should see nothing but your eyes so thier spirt cant seek revenge on you. EVen if the person knows you in life the spirt cant remember this and only sees the face of the person who killed it's living body. <i>Mat said still looking around.</i> I also have some reason of my own. Though you are my friend I dont care to talk of them now.<BR><BR><i>Leoba smiled understanding her friends mood. She knew he would come around some day. With thier conversation finished She rode up next to Smaugsbane and finished her prepartions for battle if it occured.</i>
User avatar
Matrim
Ranger of the North


 
Posts: 4370
Joined: Wed Apr 03, 2002 7:35 am
Location: Watching the waves on the Sea of Rhûn
Top

Postby Leoba » Tue May 21, 2002 4:48 am

<i>Leoba remained somewhat unconvinced by Mat’s answer. She had not known the Easterling over long but if there was one thing she had noticed it was that he did not seem the superstitious type. He had struck her as a straight-forward man, albeit one who kept some things to himself. But, it was his place to tell no more than he wished to and she was not one to press for information where it was not freely given. She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, as though to tell him by look alone that he could rest easy around her. His heart was in the right place, that much she sensed and a true and loyal heart was sufficient for Leoba to trust him. <BR><BR>She could make out no more than a faint movement on the horizon; her eyesight was good but by no means as keen as that of the Elves. Heedful of Scribbles’ call to arms, Leoba reached for her ash long-bow which was tied at her back; she would rather keep trouble beyond arms length if at all possible. She strung the weapon and began to rub the length, warming the wood and preparing to shoot. <BR><BR>Beside her, Dirk also reached for his bow, although Leoba saw that his hand itched to seize upon the hilt of Neleg Amlug. With luck, the meeting of travellers on the road would not come to blows but in still uncertain times one could never be too wary. </i><BR><BR>
User avatar
Leoba
Mariner


 
Posts: 6895
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 2:06 pm
Location: Troubadour of Ithilien, dwelling within sight of Weathertop
Top

Postby SmaugsBane » Tue May 21, 2002 7:15 am

<i>Heretofore silent, SB nodded to Mat acknowledging the oncoming riders. Sb removed his bowstring from its pouch, deftly strung his bow and hung it from his saddle near his left hand. Neleg Amlug and his quiver had been attached to his saddle bags, since there didn't seem to be any danger on this part of the road. But now SB reattached the Dragon Tooth's scabbard to his baldric, in the hip position, and the quiver he placed in front of him attached to the saddle.<BR><BR>As the dust cloud increased in size, and the riders began to come into focus, Dirk straightened in the saddle, pulling himself to full height. Though SB appeared relaxed, Midnight below him stamped and tossed his mane in anticipation.</i>
User avatar
SmaugsBane
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 3040
Joined: Fri Feb 01, 2002 9:10 am
Location: North of Fool, South of Old
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Tue May 21, 2002 7:39 am

<BR><i> She gasped, then swore furiously.</i><BR><BR>“No, it can’t be! Oh, of all the infernal bad luck . . .”<BR><BR>“What is it?” <i> someone called out.<BR><BR>Scribbles slowed her mount even more, then held up one hand and brought them all to a halt. Wheeling around to face them, she spoke quickly and urgently.</i><BR><BR>“I know two of these men, they are horse thieves both and I suspect, murderers too. I don’t know the rest, but even from this distance, they do not look like the sort to be trifled with. Chances are, they will want our mounts and weapons, along with everything else of value we carry.”<BR><BR><i> She glanced to where the approaching men could now clearly be seen and knew they had been spotted. The riders were splitting up as well, some going towards their flank. She finished quickly.</i><BR><BR>“We are outnumbered and though they are probably not well trained, they are dangerous men nonetheless. However, like all of their kind, they are greedy and so they may get careless. If you see a chance, take it, but be careful.”<BR><BR><i> Loosening Celebamarth in its sheath, she wheeled her mount just as the lead riders gained the road before and behind them.</i><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby Bardhwyn » Tue May 21, 2002 8:18 am

<i>Upon hearing SilverScribes shrill whistle, Bardhwyn remounted and both she and Thenie began a slow canter back towards their friends. Bardhwyn was not looking ahead, however, but instead she concentrated her attention on Thain and his gait, trying to get a sense of wait pained him, or ailed him.</i><BR><BR>"Bardy!", <i>Thenie's voice had an urgent tone.</i> "They're arming!" <BR><BR><i>Looking up, Bardhwyn could see Leoba and SB bracing their bows.<BR>Further on she saw a band of riders moving fast, some breaking off and riding hard around to the right. They pulled their horses to a halt.</i><BR><BR>"Thenie, look! There! To the right! They're trying to surround them. One, two... five, of them. We can meet them, hold them up. I don't think they're out for a noonday jaunt."<i>Bardhwyn reached for her bow and string pouch.</i><BR><BR>"Nor do they look like they're lost and needing directions. I wonder what this is all about..." <i>Thenie said, bracing her bow.</i><BR><BR>"Thenie, we're traveling with Scribbles!"<i>Bardhwyn said with a wide grin </i> "It could be anything! Anything at all!"<BR><BR><i>Bardhwyn gave a quick word of reassurance to Thain and with their bows secured the two women spurred their horses in the direction of the men attempting to flank their company of friends.....</i>
User avatar
Bardhwyn
Mariner

 
Posts: 5751
Joined: Mon Feb 11, 2002 3:04 pm
Location: Lost in Rhudaur
Top

Postby SmaugsBane » Tue May 21, 2002 9:15 am

<i>SB responded to Scribbles' words by spurring Midnight. The great black Stallion ran at full speed to attempt to out-flank the marauders of his own volition, as SB's hands were upon his bow, with an arrow nocked. Unbeknownst to him, Bardhwyn and Thenie were heading for the same position from the other side. <BR><BR>The move worked, the three swift steeds effectively cut off the flanking riders, sending them wheeling back towards the main body of their company.<BR><BR>The Numenorean Knight, standing in the saddle, took aim at the lead horsethief, but held his arrow until the last possible moment.</i>
User avatar
SmaugsBane
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 3040
Joined: Fri Feb 01, 2002 9:10 am
Location: North of Fool, South of Old
Top

Postby wisteria » Tue May 21, 2002 10:03 am

<i>Wiste gasped in surprise at Scribbles' hurried warning. A battle? Already?!? They hadn't even had lunch yet! She looked over her shoulder down the road they'd come and fancied she could just see a wisp of smoke from the Lucky Fortune far off in the distance. <BR><BR>Still, one look at Mat's grim face, his customary grin replaced by a scarf, made her realize she wasn't at the Lucky Fortune anymore. She pulled out her stick and hefted it in her hand. Guiding her mare into a position just behind Scribbles on the right, she set her jaw and was ready.
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby SilverScribe » Tue May 21, 2002 10:22 am

<BR>((OOC: Scribbles merely loosened her sword, but did not draw it. ))<BR><BR>IC:<BR><BR><i>Scribbles watched as SB reacted quickly, spurring to meet the threat on their flank. Bardhwyn and Thenie were closing from ahead, but the lead horsethief knew his business well. Her fist was just closing on the hilt of her sword when the leader rode right into her, putting her between himself and the drawn bows of her companions. She felt her mount jar a second time as his toady blocked her from behind. She heard Wisteria gasp as she too was pinned between the two men’s heavy mounts.</i><BR><BR>“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the half-breed bookworm with the bad attitude! And damned if he ain’t a She!!” <i>The big burly man with the greasy complexion and clothes to match crossed his hands over his saddlehorn and grinned crookedly. Scribbles sat her horse silently as the rest of the horse thief’s scruffy looking men milled about, swords and long knives drawn. Scribbles tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword.</i><BR><BR>“Draw that cursed blade an’ Fergus there will take that ‘and off at the elbow,” <i>the man barked, then he smiled horribly, showing both stained and missing teeth. </i> “Seems like the advantage is mine this time.”<BR><BR>“What do you want Redrak?” <i>she snapped impatiently.</i><BR><BR>“Why, I want that there fine warhorse ye done stole off me, an’ I want that little mare back too.” <i> He eyed Wisteria’s mount, then leered at the pretty weaver, causing her to flush. Then he leaned over closer to Scribbles. </i> “’An looks like yer friends ‘ere could spare a little somthin’ too, I wager.” <BR><BR><i> Scribbles eyed him with open distaste.</i><BR><BR>“The warhorse is mine, I paid for him in full,” <i>she spat defiantly.</i> “Even though you did not have the courtesy to tell me he was stolen goods. And I also paid for the mare, more than she was worth but I was in a hurry. Ask your idiot assistant.” <i> She jerked her chin in Fergus’ direction.</i><BR><BR>“All I know is I come ‘ome an’ the mare is gone, an’ there ain’t no money in the strongbox. Fergus says ye done come an’ magicked the mare away, threatenin’ to turn ‘im into a toad.” <i> Redrak growled in return.<BR><BR>Scribbles laughed out loud at this.</i> “A toad!! You have been reading too many fairy tales my friend.” <i> Her eyes narrowed.</i> If I were to turn either of you into anything, it would be into the snakes you are, and drunken ones at that. But I don’t do that sort of thing. Now stand aside and let us pass.”<BR><BR><i> She had caught another slight movement among her companions. </i><BR><BR>“Or what?” <i> Redrak leered. </i> <BR><BR><BR>
User avatar
SilverScribe
Scribe, Wanderer, Warrior . . . Bard of Rhudaur and Herald of Manwe


 
Posts: 29669
Joined: Wed Mar 06, 2002 10:17 pm
Location: In the wild . . .
Top

Postby Leoba » Tue May 21, 2002 11:11 am

<i>This was one of those rare moments when Leoba was glad of a docile horse. Warrior might be boring to ride, but at least he was unflappable under pressure. <BR><BR>As Scribbles and Wiste were surrounded, SB, Bardhwyn and Thenie were still driving the attack from the right flank back upon itself. That left just Leoba covering the leader with her bow from a slight distance and Mat who looked very much as though he would like to charge them down single-handedly. Leoba caught the eye of Scribbles; a fleeting connection before the half-elf fixed her glare back on Redrak. </i><BR><BR>“Or what”, <i> he leered at Scribbles and moved as though to pull his knife.</i><BR><BR><i>Matrim shifted uneasily in the saddle, his hand clenched fiercely on the hilt of his sword. </i>“Mat, there are too many of them for us to take on head to head” <i>Leoba hissed at him.</i><BR><BR>“Listen to me”. <i>He spoke with an urgency in his voice that she was unaccustomed to, </i> “We’ve got to get in there and regroup, but if we work together we should be able to pull it off. Whilst we‘re sundered, they have the upper hand.”<BR><BR><i>He explained what he meant to do and Leoba nodded her consent. There was little option. This was the moment in time when she wished more than anything that she had Mithcharach. If only there was a way of getting a message across to SB, Bardhwyn and Thenie. She averted her gaze from the band of thieves for a split second and her eyes met with those of Dirk. She thought he’d understood, but couldn’t be entirely sure.<BR><BR>Taking the lead Mat spurred his horse towards Scribbles, Wiste and Redrak whilst Leoba followed in hot pursuit, covering Redrak with her bow all the while. They dived in, between the leader and the band, splitting him off from his men. As Mat’s horse charged, Thenie, Bardhwyn and SB saw their chance. Dirk and Bardhwyn began to loose arrows, as they strove against the main mass of attackers from the opposite side. In the confusion of the double-headed attack, the ruffians knew not which way to turn. In backing off from the arrows of Dale and Rohan, they would only run into Mat, Leoba, Scribbles and Wiste all of whom were looking anything other than friendly. <BR><BR>Notwithstanding the fact that Leoba’s bow was aimed at him and she was a deadly shot, Redrak had drawn his blade and was looking decidedly as though he might use it. Wiste sat astride the contentious mare, her mouth set firm and her discomfort in the saddle momentarily forgotten. A shout from Thenie caused Leoba to look away for only a split second, but it was a spilt second too long. <BR><BR>Redrak lunged towards Scribbles, his knife going dangerously in the direction of her throat. It was too much for Wisteria. With a shout that surprised even her she swung her stave, just at the moment that Redrak lunged, striking him a clean blow across the temple. He slumped in his saddle, out cold, dark blood oozing from the crack across his head. <BR><BR>Shocked, the weaver looked at Scribbles.</i> “I didn’t mean…. I was aiming to strike the knife from his hand….”<BR><BR><i>Leoba stood high in her stirrups, shooting arrow after arrow into the aggressors. Mat pulled up alongside Scribbles, his sword drawn and his face dark. </i><BR><BR>
User avatar
Leoba
Mariner


 
Posts: 6895
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 2:06 pm
Location: Troubadour of Ithilien, dwelling within sight of Weathertop
Top

Postby wisteria » Tue May 21, 2002 11:50 am

“I didn’t mean…. I was aiming to strike the knife from his hand….”<BR><BR><i>Wiste looked at the stricken man with dismay, the other riders in his party momentarily forgotten. She watched as the man's horse shied away, carrying the limp form of the man who'd attacked Scribbles. <BR><BR>Shouts from the other bandits, as Wiste realized they were, brought her back to her senses. With a renewed grip on her now-bloodied stick, she fought the nausea that threatened to overcome her and once more took position behind and beside her friend.</i><BR><BR><BR><BR>
User avatar
wisteria
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 2130
Joined: Mon Feb 04, 2002 11:16 am
Top

Postby SmaugsBane » Tue May 21, 2002 11:56 am

(OOC: Damn, too slow.)
User avatar
SmaugsBane
Ranger of the North

 
Posts: 3040
Joined: Fri Feb 01, 2002 9:10 am
Location: North of Fool, South of Old
Top

Postby Thenie » Tue May 21, 2002 12:00 pm

<i>Thenie had drawn her bow with Bardhwyn and Smaug'sBane and stood ready covering Scribbles and the rest from behind. As Leoba and Matrim made their move, the Archer and Dirk began to fire their shafts throught the ruffians, but Thenie noticed a movement at the left of their would-be attackers, as two attempted to flee. Dropping her bow Thenie pulled Storm in their direction, leaping from his back with a loud shout pulling the two to the ground with. Tumbling nicely from her jump, she turned up to face her attackers with sword already drawn.<BR><BR></i>"So you don't like bows, then," <i>She smiled hardly, </i>"Try this."<i><BR><BR>She lunged into the first of the men, as they split, circling her. Her face growing hard and sweat beginning to drop from her brow, Thenie easily kept up with the dual attack of the ruffians, turning from one to the other with ease, watching for the right moment. Sudennly the one at her front lunged, and Thenie simply side stepped, using her sword to guide one ruffian's blade into the other. <BR><BR></i>"That wasn't nice,"<i> Thenie smiled icely, giving the remaining attacker the flat of her blade, rendering him unconscious. Leaving him there, she quickly turned, remounting Storm and heading back to see how her companions were faring. <BR><BR></i>
User avatar
Thenie
Rider of the Mark

 
Posts: 685
Joined: Sun Jan 06, 2002 1:37 pm
Top

Next

Return to Role Playing: The Prancing Pony (Middle-earth Only)

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests

cron