Of Lothlórien and Dol-Guldur; The Journey to Lothlórien

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

Of Lothlórien and Dol-Guldur; The Journey to Lothlórien

Postby Fëaros » Mon Nov 28, 2005 5:02 pm

Fëaros strode marshally with Lady Atlantea from The Lord Thranduils' majestic Hall, all eyes were upon him and it was quite noticable that something had changed in his mien, something subtle yet undeniable...it seemed there was a new wisdom about him. It was as if a great epiphany of some sort had landed in his mind; thwarting all doubt, he seemed moved and intent as one who channels emotion into action through reason. Although there was virtue in his demeanor, his eyes were very fell, there was a coldness in his stalk that marked disappointment and so he left in a manner that none knew how to place...

Galdor looked towards Marren concernedly but he was greeted with a smile of warmth, under which Galdor seemed to melt with relief and yet still troubled he sighed and spoke : "Be careful Marren..." his voice trailing off as if he meant to say much more but there were not words enough to voice his heart. Marren replied with such haste that she blushed at herself; "you too" she said, then followed a pause that lingered...the tension unbroken by the kissing of Marren's hand and which only passed when Galdor then turned to the others and bowed. Following this he went to leave not daring to look upon Marren again lest he should not remove his gaze. He left after Fëaros but just as he reached the great door encrusted with emeralds and rimmed with gold he turned once again and looked upon Marren, it was a dreamy moment and she spoke to him; "I will miss you..." with a softness not natural to her, his reply was an almost indiscernable utterance of "...I too will miss you..." and a simple bow, with this he left...

Garrack looked immediately towards Dacil whose eyes told of disappointment and envy but this did not move him. The pale Garrack did at first seem confused by this decision but he too was hit by the realisation that his journey would continue and smiled to himself. He then proceeded to hobble with great speed bearing a strangely happy grimace as he followed his two companions...

Outside the four of them stood together on the brink of a journey through great danger and peril, Garrack leant on Galdor's shoulder, Atlantea stood with the wind in her hair next to Fëaros who looked stern and grim, it was he who led them in this task, and he was prepared.


"Our path shall not be easy my friends, I hope my decision pleases you, I feel you are my most loyal companions and loyalty is a something I value highly indeed. Now, Lady Atlantea, I trust you know the way?"
Last edited by Fëaros on Tue Nov 29, 2005 4:29 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Arvandor » Mon Nov 28, 2005 7:20 pm

Garrack stood for a second taking in the moment, it was all decided... Everything had happened so quickly, so fluently, in merely a few minutes everything had changed. But in actuality nothing had changed; everything went as he had imagined it, he knew Sauron would set his gaze to Mirkwood and Esgaroth it was inevitable. And he knew that freedom, ending the tyrany of Sauron, would mean that Dol-Guldur would have to be razed completely.
But in the back of his mind he had his doubts... Sure he had fought before, been wounded before, but in past battles he had always the benefit of good health; and with his leg in such away he felt as if he were an anchor on the group, nothing more. But more importantly he had never traveled with people he admired so much. In such a short time he felt he could trust his companions; it was the battle. In battle you learn so much about others, about the way they think, the way they live, in battle you learn everything about a person. And you need to, you need to know who you can trust and who you can't or you'll end up dead, battle brings out the true character...


Leaning on Galdor hopefully Garrack muttered into the coming breeze, "I'll not be an anchor, on all our lives..." shortly after Fëaros deemed it time to carry on and gracefully cut into the moment.
"Our path shall not be easy my friends, I hope my decision pleases you, I feel you are my most loyal companions and loyalty is a something I value highly indeed. Now, Lady Atlantea, I trust you know the way?"
"Easy... No it will not be..." Garrack replied still hopefull with thoughts of the coming journey. He paused for a second and then followed up "Loyal I will be, and you are at the lead of this journey so your decision is my decision, and I trust it." His morale was high, but you can't hope to get anywhere near Dol-Guldur with nothing but a company of 4 hopefulls...
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Postby Leofwine » Mon Nov 28, 2005 10:29 pm

Peridal gracefully reclined back against the golden column, one knee bent so his foot could rest under him. He stroked his chin thoughtfully with the quill, feeling the slight tickle of the barbs, and striving once more to find the word for which he had been searching. “Remain? . . . No. . . Retain? . . . No.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head in frustration. It had been so close - right within his grasp - until Nicodel had so abruptly cut off his train of thought. And now . . . the elf sighed deeply. How the world did interfere with one’s creative process! What a waste - he really had no idea why he need go back to Rivendell. They had barely just arrived here, in King Thranduil’s halls. Still, it mattered little enough to him. Rivendell, Mirkwood, Lothlorien - orcs were orcs, and he was as likely to die by one of their foul blades or arrows in one place as another. The world was turning upside down, but not for the first time. And almost certainly not for the last. The small role appointed to him would not decide the fate of the worlds, neither of the free men of Middle Earth, nor of the dark lord’s minions, nor even of his own race, the firstborn of Illuvatar. But that which had been ordained for him to do, he would carry out to the best of his abilities. The poem was giving him too much trouble anyway.

Judging the time to be closely approaching that at which Galdor and his companions would be making their preparations to leave, Peridal pushed himself away from the column, replacing the cork in his little bottle of ink and shoving it, the quill and a tiny scrap of parchment into the satchel hanging from his belt. He’d best make his own preparations quickly, as Galdor was not likely to take it too kindly should he be late and delay their departure. Still musing on the lost rhyme, the elf hurried through the small garden and back into the labyrinth which was Thranduil’s palace. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his way again - he thought he knew where the quarters assigned to him and his 98 brethren lay. Elrond would be none too pleased to hear that Thranduil was asking for even more reinforcements for the looming engagement against the forces of Dol Guldur. The warriors at Elrond’s disposal were stretched thin enough as it was. The rumors from the south were grim indeed. The firstborn would be hard pressed to withstand the might of the witch king’s lieutenant here in the north, and if the men of Rohan and Gondor broke . . . Peridal broke into a trot as he realized he had lost his way yet again. This did not seem to bode well for the mission to which he had been assigned - to make his way back to Elrond, whether he be in Imladris still, or had already ventured out in defense of his own borders, and brief him on the recent events here on the edges of the Great Forest and of King Thranduil’s needs. But in fact, Peridal was a seasoned veteran of numerous missions and had seen action in many different parts of Middle Earth. Untracked forests, unnamed rivers, and unsurmountable mountains he had no problem with; it was just these blasted endless corridors which he found so tiresomely troublesome.

Finally turning a corner, he found himself unexpectedly, and fortuitously, right where he wanted to be, the passage leading to the room he shared with Nicodel and two others. When he reached it, the door was open, and he strode inside, glancing around rapidly. “Have you seen my sword?” He asked abruptly. “I’m sure I left it hanging on that peg.” He pointed at one of several pegs pounded into the wall.

“Just like you, Peridal, isn’t it?” Nicodel grinned at him from the chair wherein he sat, cleaning his own already pristine armor. “I’ll wager you know where that pen of yours is, but you’ve gone and lost your sword!” His friend laughed heartily as Peridal searched under the beds calmly, well used to the other’s jibes.

“No, I haven’t lost it. I just don’t know where it is at the moment.” Peridal replied. “You could help me look for it.” He added, pointedly.

“No need, Peri - here it is.” Nic slid the errant weapon out from under the chair handing it to Peridal. “Just thought it could use a good cleaning. And as you weren’t likely to give up on that ridiculous poem of yours, even when Galdor has ordered . . . “

“Yes, yes! I know what I’m to do. Though why, or whether it will do any good, remains to be seen.” Peridal looked at his friend ruefully. “And my poem is not ridiculous. It’s recalcitrant.”

“You’ve been working on it since before we left Rivendell! I wouldn’t call that recalcitrant - I’d call that impossible. I swear, Peri, you’d go into battle more concerned with getting the meter right in a final stanza than you are about your own hide.” Nic snorted in mock derision.

“Well, in the end, what’s more important - a well written verse, or me?” Peridal smiled. “And, thank you, for this.” He held up the sword.

“It was my pleasure.” Nic said, standing up and grasping his friend by the shoulder. “You know there’s nothing I enjoy more than cleaning up after your messes.” His expression changed to a more somber look. “Take care of yourself, Peri. I’ll look to see you when we return, to Rivendell.”

Knowing there was no certainty of that, Peridal embraced Nic swiftly, saying, “See that you do - return that is. Else who will chase after me like a mother hen, reminding me to clean up after myself?” He smiled easily and gathered up his pack, which lay neatly waiting for him on one of the beds. “May fortune smile on us, Nicodel.”

“Go safely, Peri. Think more of yourself, than your poems.” Nic replied, as his friend stepped to the door.

Turning, the elf grinned broadly. “Now that indeed would be an unprecedented occurrence. But - I’ll try my best.” With that, he was through the door and hurrying down the corridor, trying to remember how to get to the outer gates of the palace.
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Postby Aranel_Sarlonde » Tue Nov 29, 2005 1:26 am

Aranel leaned against a large tree trunk taking her time to catch her breath. She wasn’t used to this path home and it was taking longer than expected. Now that Moria was uninhabitable by goblins and orcs and other nasty creatures; the elf-dwarf avoided having to take the road through the mines. Although she did miss the hospitality she had encountered there from the Lords of Moria.

Sighing, she stretched her limbs as far as her petite frame would allow her and re-braided her obscenely long fiery mane. She hated to admit it but she was a little lost. Being this was her first time passing this far east into Mirkwood territory and it was not as though maps were an abundant resource in Middle Earth; she was relying on instinct to get her home to Fangorn. Obviously living in exile had its downfalls; she couldn’t just stop and ask for directions.

Glancing absentmindedly as the river, Anduin, she was presented with a challenge; at her fork in the road she could go into the woods or follow the river. Rubbing her neck, hr fingertips passed over her brand; memories of ridicule and murder from Rivendell passed through her mind before she could stop them. Shaking her head she focused back to her task at hand, too tired to think logically (as the river passed directly into Fangorn), she picked up her dwarfish axe and followed the path into the Forest listening and speaking with the trees.

She figured it was close to midday before she came into contact of any being. And she wasn’t expecting that encounter to be at the pointy end of four arrows from Mirkwood longbows. Before the gravity of her situation hit her, she wondered if any of these elves had been under the direction of her father….whoever that was.

“How did you pass so far into the borders of Mirkwood?”

She couldn’t help it, it was too easy. Her comment dripped with sarcasm “….I flew…..”

“I have no tolerance for insolence, elfling, I demand-“

“Elfling!?”

If was one thing that got her temper going it was any comment made to her short stature. In the blink of any eye, her axe sliced through the air breaking two long bows, and a few strands of hair before it met the clang of a scimitar. Her steely blue eyes met those of one of the soldiers. One grabbed her from behind pinning her arms to her side, causing the axe to fall lifeless to the ground. That just made it easier to jam the soles of her feet into the elf in front and flip over the soldier holding her arms.

It did not work as planned. Before she knew it, Aranel was face down in the dirt with three elves pinning her down while the fourth took the rest of her weapons. Unfortunately for her captors, being restrained did not slow her razor-tongue; which in combination with her temper, would make the harshest Haradrim in all of Middle Earth blush like a bride on the eve of her wedding. The only they could do to silence her incessant sarcasm was to knock her out. Which they decide was the best course of action.

When she woke, the trees quickly whispered to Aranel in Old Entish that she was approaching a vast, elfish city deep within the forest. Mirkwood…..she had avoided this city like no other city she had ever encountered. Her midnight eyes did not catch much as they hurried through the city and nor did her ears catch much; all she could make out was the King would decide what do with this abomination (she could only assume that meant her). Soft, dirt roads turned into paneled walkways that blended to fine marble…..and many shod feet. Her head once again met the ground as she was thrust to the marble floor. Upon standing she was met with a great host of elves; fear struck and she reached for her weapons.

And there she was, weaponless, shorter than the others, and very afraid, as she stood among her father’s kinfolk. The father she never knew.

She was like a fiery animal back into a corner.
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Postby Leofwine » Tue Nov 29, 2005 6:48 pm

Peridal tied his long, dark hair back out of his face as he trotted along one corridor after another, his belongings bouncing against his back. He had strapped his quiver and sword, in its scabbard, securely to his pack, which he had slung over his back. His bow he had over one shoulder, quick to hand if needed. Bow first, sword second - that’s the way it was supposed to work, at least, theoretically. But he had found on more than one occasion that is your opponent got the drop on you, the dagger thrust through your belt might jump forward in the line of most practical weapon. Hopefully, their foes would not get the drop on them, but under the circumstances . . . He patted his dagger affectionately.

With a bit more luck than skill, he soon found his way to the great gates of the palace. He remembered their entry herein such a short time ago. The battle in the woods had been relatively short, and definitely sweet, as he had come through unscathed. The were wolves had certainly been unnerving, Peridal never having encountered such beasts before. He wondered briefly if there would be other such fell creatures wandering the dark places of Mirkwood, and if they were likely to meet up with them on their journey. But that thought turned his mind to the task at hand - namely, finding Galdor and his traveling companions before they managed to leave him behind. The elf knew little of his captain’s own mission. Simply that there would be only a handful of them journeying to Lorien and he was to accompany them as far as possible, until he had to make his way, alone, to find Elrond.

Just outside the gates, Peridal spied Galdor and three others gathered together, not, he hoped fervently, waiting for him to show up. Although the look on Galdor’s face did not give him cause to hope much. “Galdor!”, Peridal hailed his captain.

“Peridal.” Galdor replied dryly. “How considerate of you to show up. I hope my request didn’t interfere too much with your versifying.”

“No, as a matter of fact, it saved me from struggling with a particularly obstreperous rhyme.” Peridal smiled but Galdor did not look amused.

“Nicodel found you, then? Good. A highly reliable individual.”

“Yes.” Peridal agreed wholeheartedly. “He told me you’d chosen him to stand in for you in your absence. He was quite excited at the prospect. I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job.”

Galdor looked thoughtfully at the elf standing in front of him. “Yes. I believe I’ve made the right choices for each of the tasks I need seen to.”

Peridal returned Galdor’s gaze steadily. “I believe you have, sir.”

Galdor inclined his head a fraction of an inch. Then, turning to his companions, he said, “Fearos, Garrack,”, he indicated each of them in turn, “This is Peridal, one of my company from Rivendell.” Peridal nodded his head respectfully. “He’s returning there, or wherever Elrond may be found, to inform him of the situation here and relay King Thranduil’s need for whatever assistance Elrond may be in a position to provide.” He then turned to the beautiful elf who waited silently by his side. “And this, of course, is the Lady Atlantea, King Thranduil’s daughter. We are escorting her to Lorien, for her safety.”

Peridal cast his gaze on her loveliness, and for one split second, the image of his own love, Rosignal, flashed before his mind’s eye. Holding back a sigh, Peridal made her a low bow, saying, “My lady. Assuredly no-one could spend more than five minutes in your father’s halls without having heard of your beauty, both of face and of spirit. And those accounts, I now see, fall far short of truth. I will strive to serve you on this journey, to the last breath I draw, if it should come to that.” He placed his hand over his heart and looked up at her, his dark eyes clouded with misgiving.

She smiled sadly, yet sweetly, and replied, “Then let us hope it does not.”

Peridal inclined his head graciously to her, then looked questioningly at the man, Garrack. He was obviously injured and the elf wondered how the journey would fare with him. Perhaps he went to seek out the healing powers of the elves of Lorien. If so, it would be a wonder if he made it that far to be so healed, given the circumstances of the moment. Turning his mind back to the task at hand, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited patiently for the word to move out.
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Postby Arvandor » Tue Nov 29, 2005 7:48 pm

Garrack caught the glance that Peridal had given and replied by covering his leg with his cloak and shifting away from Galdor's support.
"Well, then Peridal I'm sure our paths will cross again when the time comes to gather our forces against Dol-Guldur. Let us hope that Lord Elrond has enough gallant warriors to spare, for the Dale is spread thin, and who knows where the Dwarves stand on this matter. I'm sure Thranduil will need all the help he can get." He didn't give much time for a response as more presing matters were on his mind. With a nod he spun around and took a few steps positioning himself between Fëaros and Atalantea, careful to complete every motion through the pain; just for Peridal. Gazing into the distance as Atlantea had been he questioned,
"What route will we follow?" Pausing and pondering for a second he continued, "We have options, but we must also think of speed and secrecy; we need not alert Dol-Guldur to our actions if we don't have to." A new thought now burned in the back of his mind,
How the heck are we going to pull this all together...
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Postby Aranel_Sarlonde » Wed Nov 30, 2005 12:56 am

Her midnight eyes tried to focus on her surroundings in the Great Hall. Shock stunned her as she saw in whose audience she was in. When she was younger, she had tried with all her might to obtain an audience with the King, but he had always refused to see her. Apparently, news of her origins had traveled from Rivendell to the ears of the eastern elves. No one had the stomach to see a combination of two hated races; dwarves and elves had no right to breed, a Rivendell Elf had informed her, and that she was no better than the orcs themselves.

Her head was pounding and the incessant pain drove itself into her thoughts. Her body quickly switched into ‘Flight or Fight’ mode. Fear was forefront in her mind; she no longer had any desire to be the company of those who thought her an abomination or the races. As she looked at those around her, angry voices were heard shouting throughout the Hall at her appearance. For those who knew what she was, guards held back those who would harm her. The room seemed to spin uncontrollably at the same speed as her whirlwind of thoughts; in a panic she turned in all her elven swiftness and grabbed a small throwing dagger form the soldier behind her. Cutting her bonds as quickly as she turned, ducking she evaded the lunge from her victim of robbery. To avoid any further confrontation she flung the dagger into the air in no particular direction.

Screams were heard as she jetted out of the Hall itself; not realizing the dagger had imbedded itself in the wall above the King’s head. No one of consequence had figured out to what direction she had darted. Allowing her feet to carry her where the Valar intended. Apparently, the Valar were not on her side this midday and she ran smack dab into one of the tallest elves she had ever encountered.

She supposed this troop of males had realized she was fleeing and detained her once again.

“What have you there Fëaros?” the wounded one questioned glancing at the captive with flaming red locks.

Aranel’s razor tongue flew once more in her struggle to get away. Upon seeing her pointed ears and fair features, Fëaros struggled to keep a firm grip on her petite stature, “I am under the assumption that it is an elf…..a rather small one at that.”

“Release her,” a soft, sad voice seemingly whispered.

Aranel gazed upon the owner of that voice. Her fighting words were silenced when she realized whose presence she was in. The struggling stopped and her anger faded to barely a whisper, “Lady Atlantea……”
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Postby blackthorn » Thu Dec 01, 2005 2:25 pm

The morning forest was silent and held no surprises for the large man chasseing his pray through the under brush of the Mirkwood. The feral sent of the female Isengard wolf was over whelming to the hunters nose. He reached into his stale bag and pulled out a cloth to lessen the animals sexual sent by tying the cloth around his mouth and nose. The sent was lessened but the smell still got through to lead him in the right direction of his pray.

The great brown battle mare that he rode was a horse of many battles and he know that it would never throw him in a fight, it was not the fastest horse but it endurance was unquestionable. The horse’s leather padded amour made no noise as it rubbed brush and leafs on its hard metal exterior, as Blade rode in a slow pace chasing the animal for a day now.

Blade slowed the horse to a walk because he had a bad feeling and there was no need to chase the wolf through the brush and trees. He looked down and dismounted the stead to get a closer look as the tracks.

The wolfs tracks were closer together so it indicated to him that the animal was tiring and might make a stand close buy instead of running. There was also some dropping of the wolf in a pile near a bush the blade picked up to pull apart. The smell was rancid and he could see that the animal had no time to stop for a good meal of meat and had to settle for some local berries. Blade smiled throwing the fecal matter away and returning to his mount.

He was two steps away when the horse flinched and snorted at the bushes. But before Blade had Time to turn the wolf was on him throwing him to the ground. Blade was just able to get his hand up and hold off the best with its razor sharp claws and fangs trying to rent any flesh that would come into its open drooling mouth. The breath was so bad that Blade had to for a second hold his breath. The animal was not able to get its claws into any thing but dirt, and Blade was able to keep it at bay for the moment.

The blood pounded in his chest making his blood boil in this veins with rage. He would not let this animal defeat him, He told him self. The battle horse was panicking with fear and started to pound the ground with his hooves trying to stomp the wolf to death. The wolf was getting bothered buy this act and turned its head to bite the horse.

His horse was endanger and this was all Blade needed he get his blood rage going. The blackness cloaked his eyes and he grabbed the wolf buy the neck heaving him away. The wolf snapped and sped away in fury. Bade was so worked up he forgot his mount and chased it through the brush with the blood pounding in his ears.

The rage he felt subsided after some time bringing him back to his senses were he felt suddenly weak from the resent encounter. He leaned on a tree to get his breath back and it was just then that he spotted an elf asleep in the same tree he leaned on. “What you be doing up there,” Blade shouted to wake the elf.
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Postby Robin_Greenleaf » Fri Dec 02, 2005 11:59 am

For many hundreds of years now Robin has been on her own. She had noplace to call home or nowhere special that held her heart to one place. She wandered around Middle Earth endlessly inserch of her past that was lost long ago whith her mothers death. Robin had arived in Mirkwood a few days earlier but wasn't ready to go before the King about her serch just yet with all of the blackness then seamed to come from Dol Guldur.

Shortly after leaving the only home she had ever new Robin made her way from the Grey Havens to elves in the Shire and then finaly to Rivendell. In Rivendell she was finaly able to learn of the truth behind her fathers death at the hands of the Goblin King. With the aid of Lord Elronds two sons Robin soon set out to see the very place where her father had died and with any luck avenge his death by killing one one who had cut his life short. With help of all the many many hundreds years of training at the hands of her Nany's husband, Robin was able to avenge her fathers death in a chance meeting with the Goblin King himself and in a simple act of selfdefance Robin cut his head off and used it to ensure her excape.

Now here she was sleeping in a tree in the thick darkness of Mirkwood.

“What you be doing up there,” a voice shouted waking her.

Jumping out of the tree Robin landed on the ground next to the man that had woken her. "What is a man doing in these woods" she asked in a harsh tone as she heald a Knife to his neck. Right as the man was about to speak he sudenly slumped onto the ground, "You've been in a fight? here let me look at that" she spoke in a more gental tone.

Kneeeling down next to the man, Robin removed the mans vest and shirt only see a large claw marks covering his chest and arms. Reaching into her shachel she pulled out a small tin, "Here this will help untill I can get you to a river so that I can clean these" she spoke softly as she applied a save onto the gashes. Next Robin pulled out a small vile of liqued and poured a small amount of iut into the mans mouth, "This will give you back you strenth. I must worn you it may make you a bit" Robin began to say when the man sudenly fell fast asleep" ..Sleepy! Rest well" she whispered softly as she placed her things back.

Standing up Robin could hear the sound of a horse heading towards them. Looking over at the sleeping man "I think your friend is here" she laughed softly as she then saw a great brown battle mare walking to the sleeping man. Walking over to the horse Robin whispered something to her in Elvish so that it would not fear her, "I think we should let him rest, what do you think"Robin spoke softly to her. with nodd of the horses head Robin took the rains and led her over to a nearbu\y tree and tied her up so that she wouldn't stray too far. after removing the horses armor Robin gental rubed the horse down.
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Postby Arvandor » Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:10 am

“What have you there Fëaros?” Garrack questioned glancing at the captive with flaming red locks.

Aranel’s razor tongue flew once more in her struggle to get away. Upon seeing her pointed ears and fair features, Fëaros struggled to keep a firm grip on her petite stature, “I am under the assumption that it is an elf…..a rather small one at that.”

“Release her,” a soft, sad voice seemingly whispered.

Aranel gazed upon the owner of that voice. Her fighting words were silenced when she realized whose presence she was in. The struggling stopped and her anger faded to barely a whisper, “Lady Atlantea……”

"So she speaks again..." Garrack interjected playfully aiming at Atlantea, "Doesn't look like any elf I've ever seen... Maybe it's a dwarf, although it doesn't look like many dwarves I've ever seen either..." Garrack let a smirk break upon his lips, "So what is it, what are you?" He picked her up to her feet and awaited an answer...
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Postby atalantea » Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:35 pm

Atalantea roamed the hallwayss in thought. Angry, furious and sad thoughts. Really, when did she become this solitary and saddened by every little thing that came before her? She unclenched her fists.

The others read her quietness as sadness. If they only knew! She was angry! She was... she missed him.

She wanted to stay and yet her father had forced her to go and be safe. Be safe for crying out loud. That is my use and responsibility. Tucked away somewhere safe, the Valars!I hate that word, while evryone else is fighting!

She must get out. She must do something. She turned and decided to talk to Fearos or Garrack about it. She opened the hall and stepped into... chaos.

“I am under the assumption that it is an elf…..a rather small one at that.”

“Release her,” she said softly. Why such hostility towards the young, small one?

“Lady Atlantea,”

"So she speaks again..." Garrack came and looked at her. "Doesn't look like any elf I've ever seen... Maybe it's a dwarf, although it doesn't look like many dwarves I've ever seen either..." Garrack let a smirk break upon his lips, "So what is it, what are you?" He picked her up to her feet and awaited an answer...

"It doesn't matter," Atalantea said quietly. "It does not excuse such boorish behavior, unhand her," she said before facing the little form of a woman staring at her with wide, confused and yet defiant eyes. "What business have you here?"

"I-- I-" she stammered and sputtered seemingly at a loss for words.

"Well?" she prodded.
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Postby blackthorn » Sun Dec 11, 2005 12:23 pm

Blade was out cold in a deep sleep. His body was shacking and sweet was socking him all over as the nightmare's began that he was so plagued with over the years.

He could remember the smell of fire and the screams of the village as a band of wild men from Mordor. He was on a hunting trip and could see the smoke rising from the village in the Vally.
He dreamed that no matter how fast he ran it was always to faraway like his feet were in quick sand sucking him down. All of a sudden he could see him self standing in the village surrounded buy burned out huts and slaughtered animals. the stench was so strong he wanted to run for ever to get a way.
Then the nightmare really began as he seen the body of a young girl in the middle of the street with a yellow skirt that her mother had made that she was so proud of.

Blade started screaming in his sleep, Jenny no Jenny please lord no.

The girl in his dream lay motionless with her arms extended, but at the ends of her arms her hands were cut off just above the wrist. and a puddle of blood was seen coming from under the little girl. Not far away he could see his wife clutching her stomach were she tried to keep her gut inside from a large slash across her.

Blade was getting A blood rage going even in his sleep.

Blade walked over to his dieing wife crying as she spoke " Jenny is she OK?' Blade looked down to his dieing wife and could not tell her the truth "she is fine my love just rest, Who did this? " Just before she closed her eyes forever she pointed down the street.

Blade looked and seen two foot soldiers standing at the end of the street looking at some boots they removed from the dead.

He stood and screamed at the top of his lungs reaching for his scimitars one in each hand he ran straight for them. one of the guards raised a cross bow and the arrow flew from the weapon striking Blade in the leg.Blade didn't even notice if he was hit or not there was nothing going to stop him the look of the men as he approached was one of horror. By the time He was done cutting up the men know one could have know what kind of animal they were.

Blade woke in a crying sleep from a small hand trying to wake him. He woke up seeing the same elf he spotted in the tree. He was covered in sweet and noticed he must have been crying for his face was wet.

"Please are you OK you were screaming in you sleep ," spoke the small elf. " I be alright just memories returning to haunt me from time to time" Blade wiped his face and noticed that the Elf had placed a potency on this chest across the scrape. " Thank you for your help kind Elf but I must be off," He tried to rise but the Elf pushed him down.

" You must rest and I would say those dreams were not of the best here drink this It will help you calm your nerves," She handed him a Mug of herbal tea and he excepted it with kind.

"My this is awful stuff," Blade spoke as he took another drink. "It will help so just drink it," She smiled at him and blade drank down the rest in one swallow. " The name is Blade and who do I have the honor of addressing fair elf," he placed down the mug and leaned against a tree looking the beautiful elf up and down.
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Postby Robin_Greenleaf » Sun Dec 11, 2005 7:39 pm

Squatting down across from Blade, "I am called Robin, I am here seeking anwsers about my familys past" she said to him.

"Where's my horse? I need to find my horse" Blade spoke as he tried to get up once again.

Standing up Robin walked over and pushed the tall man down " You need to lay still, " she said pushing him back down to the ground. Looking over to his left, "As for your horse, I beleave she found you"

Blade looked over into the direction that the Elf was looking and saw his horse teathered to a tree unsaddled and resting comfortably, " Thank you" he spoke softly as he gave in from the she-elf urging to lay still, though he was a little suprised at how strong she really was for her slender from.

"Here, eat some of this" she said handing Blade a bowl containing a seaming substance. Blade grimased as the last thing she gave him had tasted awful, " Don't worry, this tests better then it looks. You need to get you strenght back dont you" she said trying not to laugh.

Blad was supried at how tasty the contens of the bowl were, " Can you tell me as to why you were sleeping in the tree?" he asked

"Where else would one be able to sleep with out the wolves getting them out here?" she smiled. "Though I see that you had quite the run in with the Alpha female. Look, just eat and rest, when you have recovered you'r strenth you can tell me what you were doing traveling in these Dark woods alone" Robin said as she went over and tended to the fire that she had going.
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Postby Leofwine » Mon Dec 12, 2005 2:33 pm

Peridal stood silently, thoughtfully regarding the small woman facing the Lady aAtlantea. She did indeed have an unusual look to her – too small for an elf, certainly. He wondered idly what the others would make of her, but their most pressing concern at the moment was to get started on their journey. There was little enough time as it was, let alone having to deal with this petite bundle of firey spirit. Unsure whether or not their route had already been decided upon, he turned to Galdor. “By what path shall we attempt to leave the forest?” he asked.

Galdor in turn looked at Garrack and Fearos. “What say you? By what means shall we find the quickest route to Lorien, yet avoid the forces of evil prowling this place, especially those minions of Dol Guldur?”

All of the party seemed to consider what best to suggest. Peridal, having given the matter some thought of his own, spoke first.

“Time is of the essence here, I believe. King Thranduil is in dire need of whatever help Elrond may have to provide. But, should it arrive too late, it might just as well have not arrived at all. Similarly, every day spent traveling with Lady aAtlantea places her in a position of grave danger. The sooner she is brought to the relative safety of Lorien, the better off we shall all be. Though whether or no any place will be called “safe” in the weeks to come is anyone's guess. I propose, then, that we make a direct line to the southeast, through the forest and striking the Great River just north of the golden woods. Being a small party of only four.” Here he looked somewhat questioningly at the newcomer. “We should be able to travel quickly and in comparative silence. I know the path through the forest may be a treacherous one, but it is one of which I have some knowledge, and I believe we will be successful if we have but a small amount of luck on our side.” Peridal waited for any of the others to voice an opinion for or against his proposal. No-one spoke for a moment, so he offered. “Speak, any of you who have an alternate route to suggest.”
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Postby Arvandor » Mon Dec 12, 2005 7:18 pm

"True, as a small party we could move quickly and silently. But I humbly disagree with your route. I feel that we would be best off taking a bit more of a winding path. We exit the forest heading east-south-east of our current position, cutting across the Old Forest Road and continuing on to the banks of the Anduinfrom there we follow the river bank to the Gladden Fields. I of course would rather not cross that cursed land, so we would continue just a bit south past the fields and then cross the river. After the crossing we make all haste to the Golden Wood." Garrack interjected with his well thought out plan, he had been devising it since he first heard they would need to travel to Lorien. Taking a breath and letting what he had already established sink in he continued again,
"This cuts down many of the dangers of the previous route such as; we won't have to endure the perils of South Mirkwood, we won't enter the Gladden fields, and we will be as far as we can get from Dol-Guldur. And if anyone should spot us and attempt to track us we are taking a bendy path through many terrains, thus making our trail a hard one to follow."
Again he stopped and let his words sink in, he realized he had been a bit longwinded but he felt it necessary and concluded his thoughts.
"As always, we are a team, either propose a new route or vote on which you think is best." With that it was left in the hands of his comrades...
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Postby blackthorn » Tue Dec 13, 2005 3:01 pm

The morning went on and Robin and Blade got to know each other a little more. Robin decided to help Blade look for the Wolf and Blade was thankful for the company. They rode double on his horse and followed the tracks until noon. " looks like we have company," Robin said pointing to some tracks of at least six men following the trail. They keep following the tracks until they came upon a small wood's man home . The door was kicked open and the was no sign of life.

Robin and Blade got off the horse and looked about the area but they were not prepared for what they found in the house.

Her face was severely bruised, blood clotted around the mouth and nose. more blood seeped from both ears, indicative of an injury to the head. Both her wrists were badly broken, Her left eye was swollen shut, the other eye staring blankly up at the low ceiling of the kitchen. A crimsoned knife lay in the corner of the room, it was snapped off at the tip.

"she did some damage," Robin said gently "there is more blood then came from her."

"she wasn't stabbed," Blade reached down and found the cause of death, he reached under her head and felt a large indent, "they must have kicked their back of her head in with armoured boots after they'd......" the sentence trailed uneasily away into silence.

"you think she killed some of the attackers," Robin asked.

"likely," Blade replied, " There's a trail of blood into the other room soaked into the floor, like some one was dragged away."

"Jenny," Blade said low and to him self, "what was that you said ?" Robin asked. "Nothing," replayed Blade.

"That is the path of madness ,Blade be careful of how you step, the past is past but I need you here OK," Robin looked at him, "look at me Blade," Blade turned his head to her "Do you here me." Blade looked at her eyes " Wise words, Robin thank you." Blade stood up and looked behind her out the window ," Look out behind yo..," Before he finished the sentence Robin had already turned and launched two arrows with her Elvin quickness Striking the man in the throat through the Addams apple and placing one in his right eye contacting the brain finishing him quickly.
the cross bow fell with his twitching body to the cold ground.

Blade was amazed at the speed of her bow . After securing the area Robin spoke " What now,"

Blade looked at the women on the kitchen floor, "Next we bury her. Next we go after the killers . next we kill them all. Next after that ? I don't know."

Blade headed out grabbing a spade on his way to dig a hole and Robin tried to make the body of the women look better buy putting a nice dress on her from her dresser and brushed her hair. She could do little for the bruises and tried to look past it. The cold waxen skin was hard to work with but Robin did the best she could replacing her riped and tattered dress.
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Postby Aranel_Sarlonde » Wed Dec 14, 2005 11:28 pm

Aranel listened to the two elves speak of paths and ways to Lorien, as though she wasn’t there. But the one called Garrack, who turned back, and Lady Atlantea still awaited her response with their eyes solely on her. And the people of middle earth that she could call friend wondered why she avoided the people of her origins.

Clenching her jaw, she stood straight and tall, well as tall as she could get, “I have no business here in Mirkwood. I was held against my will by your March Wardens for absolutely no reason!”

Grimacing inwardly, she figured that was mostly the truth.

She midnight eyes blazed with a mixture of nervous fear and the adrenaline that had still not left her body from her flight mere moments ago. She slumped upon remembering all her weaponry had been confiscated.

“Why would they hold you against your will?” Peridal asked her warily, obviously disbelieving her story, that or still confused as to what she was exactly.

“Why ask me the strange thinking of you elves?! The lack of oxygen of your bodily altitude must affect your thinking on some level for them to hold me!” Her fear and anger was quickly mixing.

“Well, you look like an elf……but you sound like a dwarf and their boorish way of speaking.”

Rolling her eyes she looked upon Peridal, “Well, aren’t you the quick one.”

She gazed back to Garrack, “And that is not the quickest and safest route to Lorien. You will want to cross Anduin at its connection to the Old Forest Road by Carrack, then turn south crossing the Gladden River to Drimrill Dale and crossing into the Realm of Lorien.”

Silence ensued after her statements, whether from shock or annoyance she wasn’t sure.
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Postby therebelforces » Wed Dec 14, 2005 11:37 pm

Celebquesse stood with her back to a tree in the middle of Mirkwood with nothing but her sword and her bow. she was not lost but she did not know where she was and it didn’t seem to mater. She was on her way to Lothlorien to take her mother Sirsil to the Gray Havens. The journey would not be immediate she was to spend some time with her in the Golden Wood before they set out on the road. She had not seen her mother in meany years even as far as elves where concerned and at there last meeting both had walked away mad. Her and her mother did not see eye to eye on meany things one of them being Celebquesse choice to spend her days tromping through woods and fields after orcs and trolls. “Your father would not have liked it. He would have wanted you safe and out of all dangers.”she would say every time Celebquesse was with her.
“Father would have loved to see me out there doing all I can to defeat the enemy, I’m doing it for him and for every one how has been hurt.” she sat down in the dead leaves thinking of the evening long ago she spent in the branches of the high oak tree just out side of the forests about the hidden kingdom. She looked about herself she heard the soft sound of a rabbit hopping not far away and got up and walked to where the rabbit was and it hopped a few steeps away and then a few more and stopped and sat still hopping that what ever was watching it would leave. Celequesse then in one motion took a long stride forward picked up the rabbit and snapped its neck. She went back to her tree skinned and gutted the rabbit and made a small hot fire to cook her meal on. Thought she was a skilled hunter and loved taking out big game, she also loved the taste of rabbit. When it was done she ate it with some berries she had found that morning. This was what she wanted, not to live around others, to have to be sociable, and watching where she steeped so to speck.
To the people in the inns and on the road she was Silver the fearless hunter of orcs. She had silver hair and big bright gray eyes. Unless she was with the elves either in Imladris or in Lothlorien she was clothed in armor of black and silver rings that no longer shined with a thick leather shirt underneath and she wore tall worn black boots that went to her knees, and over every thing a large black cloak and hood. Around her neck was a thin silver chain and on it was a small silver feather with a plane blue stone set in it. Her sword Theliontil it was named was of eleven make and in its hilt where feathers carved into where the leather grip ended.
Right now as she finished her small and tasty meal she was dreading the long walk to the Golden Wood more then if she had to face the dark lord himself alone and unarmed. Him she could harm or hate, but against her mother she was utterly helpless.
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Postby Arvandor » Thu Dec 15, 2005 12:39 pm

The Elf...Dwarf...thing gazed back to Garrack and shot off as if her mouth was a catapult, “And that is not the quickest and safest route to Lorien. You will want to cross Anduin at its connection to the Old Forest Road by Carrack, then turn south crossing the Gladden River to Drimrill Dale and crossing into the Realm of Lorien.”
Speachless for a second Garrack barely realized how he was pulled into this and then regained his wits, "Yes that is true, but unless you plan on journeying with us through the peril of Gladden, then I think my route should suffice... And seeing as I did leave it open to suggestions, thanks for your input; but I think you have more pressing matters to attend to, with the law of Mirkwood..." He then braced himself for a retort...
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Postby Aranel_Sarlonde » Sat Dec 17, 2005 11:56 am

"Yes that is true, but unless you plan on journeying with us through the peril of Gladden, then I think my route should suffice... And seeing as I did leave it open to suggestions, thanks for your input; but I think you have more pressing matters to attend to, with the law of Mirkwood..."

For once in her lifetime, Aranel had no retort, no reply; she was utterly speechless. When it came to elves brushing her off, it always caught her of guard enough to render her without replies. But it didn’t change the fact that he was right, she had no place to run and Mirkwood authorities were after her.

I wonder where they are, it had been a while since she ran or maybe it just felt that way from the adrenaline that rushed through her small frame.

The small troupe of elves seems to ignore her as they spoke with each other once more. Aranel weighed her options. She had no weapons and “the law” after her in the grand city. She was still days from Fangorn and with the new route she had to take, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad idea to have some extra …company… around should she (or they) get into a snit from Sauron’s leftovers.

Biting her lower lip and grimacing inward, “I could….journey with you through Gladden. I can guarantee you a protection that no one else in Middle Earth could ever offer you.”
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Postby atalantea » Mon Dec 19, 2005 12:41 am

Atalantea stopped herself from doing a vey unelf like action... rolling her eyes. She looked at the small elf, bore one last look at her as she stared back at her with something short of defiance... a look that looked so natural on the young one's face she knew the red head had worn it one too many times. Atalantea wore it often enough to recognize it. Her lips twitched a little before she turned away.

She listened to the exchange. Which way was best to take?

A staright one? The fastest one indeed. She felt a certain kinship with the elf as his marriage was also put on hold because of the war. Her brows twitched up but she held it down, keeping her face impassive at the mention of her safety in the Golden Woods.

Garrack, the mortal spoke his objection. A winding path and one through the Gladden Fields. Hard to follow and less peril. It wasn't the fastest but at least they were of less danger... but they had to go through the cursed plains... on the other hand it will mgive her more time to think of what she has to co once they reached the golden woods.

To her surprise, the little one interjected. “That is not the quickest and safest route to Lorien. You will want to cross Anduin at its connection to the Old Forest Road by Carrack, then turn south crossing the Gladden River to Drimrill Dale and crossing into the Realm of Lorien.”

Garrack seemed taken aback for a moment. "Yes that is true, but unless you plan on journeying with us through the peril of Gladden, then I think my route should suffice... And seeing as I did leave it open to suggestions, thanks for your input; but I think you have more pressing matters to attend to, with the law of Mirkwood..."

The little one opened her mouth fo a retort but no sound came. She closed her mouth and crossed her arms in a sulky manner.

Something in her manner reminded Atalantea of something. A seed started to grow in her head. If she cannot fight as Atalantea... perhaps she could fight as a mortal... no one would ever have to know... she needed to plan.

"If we are vying for speed we should go by Peridal's sugestion... if we are for safety then we should go by Garrack's... if we are going for both, perhaps we should take the little one's suggestion, what is your name?" aain, she adressed the she elf dwarf creature.
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Postby Aranel_Sarlonde » Tue Dec 20, 2005 9:56 am

She hesitated before answering the elven lady. Aranel was very well known for living in exile because of her origins, but many assumed her an elfling rather than an elvish dwarf; it annoyed her but it was how things went. Her jaw set and she glared at the wear marks of her leather boots, "Aranel.....Aranel Sarlonde of Fangorn."

Normally one would discuss who their parents were; however, Aranel knew very little about her parents and that included their names. She did know her father was a March Warden of Mirkwood but this was the first time she had ever been to the city (and she wasn't enjoying the experience). Shaking her head to rid herself of depressing thoughts, her midnight eyes settled upon the troop in front of her, "If you can get my weaponry back, I can guarantee your safety to Realm of Lorien."
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