Shadow over Gondor (A Different Take...)

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

Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Mon Aug 14, 2000 4:29 pm

Inglor, soldier of Minas Anor (or ex-soldier, he muses with a grin) gazed into the crystal as his sight flew across the lands of Gondor, searching hard, and met a shadow in the mountains around Mordor. As he looks harder his fears were confirmed....but he broke the connection as he feels a power try and gain control and knew it is too strong for him, then heard the clink of armor and knows that the Guard were coming.<BR><BR>Running past the unconsious, wounded guards he felt a pang of sympathy; they might not live, but there was nothing he could have done about that; too many lives had been at stake, too many still were. Taking one last look in the Stone, he was dismayed to know that somehow his foe had hidden himself, that he could never come to the King now and show him.<BR><BR>Inglor ran to his waiting companions: "It is done. He's in the Encircling Mountains somewhere; more I could not find. Now our last hope lies in the eyes of the Eagles: we must find Radagast. Who can come?"<BR>---<BR><BR>And so they set out southwards; the city was searched, but fortunately their more experienced journeymen knew how to cover their tracks, and they escaped for the time being.<BR><BR>Sorry couldn't get on yesterday to clarify this: yes this is part of the "A New Take on this RPing System" idea; i'm trying it out with just a few people for a little while; started Monday so say we finish up around Monday the 28th? (think that's right) so just the five of us; maybe we'll try some other threads later with the same ideas. But in the meantime it is a "closed" thread so to speak.<BR><BR>For all who don't remember, character lists and such are in the original "A New Take" thread; setting is Gondor only a little while after the Return of the King.
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Postby erinhue » Mon Aug 14, 2000 6:51 pm

life must be lived, time must be taken, all will be well. Your servant, as ever-
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Postby Aglanor » Tue Aug 15, 2000 12:01 pm

Garchi left Southern Mirkwood and found himself standing in front of a great plain. Further away, he could see the Anduin, and Lorien. A bit to the left, he found himself looking at more plains. Because he wanted to find a sheltered place before dusk, Garchi started to walk fast. His halberd was tied to his back, so it woulsdn't be in the way of his feet, but it was very heavy, and especially since he had more stuff tied to his back, he had to put a lot of energy in staying in balance. <BR><BR>Near dusk Garchi was in a little forest, in a perfect hiding place. A sort of hole in the ground, which provided, warmth, protection from rain and animals and silence. After hunting and eating Garchi fell asleep, dreaming of finding a treasure tomorrow. He had no idea, what really was waiting for him.....<BR><BR>(OOC: sorry Kryshalis, but this was supposed to be a thread for only certain people, which were already chosen. Me, Radagast, Morgoth_Bauglir, Erinhue and Jon Geatleaf. There are many other threads you can join, though...No offense)
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Postby Snowdog » Tue Aug 15, 2000 12:30 pm

Hi, Snowdog the foul here. I wrote up something for this somewhat unoriginal-titled thread an now I cant use it. If it is a closed-club thread, then state so in the first post Morgoth. I didn't realize, as did Kryshalis that this was your "Different Take" on RP. If I did, I wouldn't have written anything for it. <BR><BR>So Please dont get down on a new poster who is just trying to get started in RP here since there is no list of approved posters for this thread.
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Postby erinhue » Tue Aug 15, 2000 6:10 pm

A jangled chord sounded from the untouched strings of the dragonharp, Agarak. "I know," whispered <b>Erinhue</b>"that's why they call it the Closed Door."<BR> The rune marked entrance to Rath Dinen, the Silent Street had not been opened since the death and entombment of Lord Denethor last ruling steward of Gondor.<BR> Erinhue was not looking forward to his passage through the Houses of the Dead but it had to be done if he was to keep a promise to a friend. Inglor, who fled the city under a cloud, was no traitor. Erinhue believed him when he said the darkness might not be completely eraced from the land. King Elessar must believe it too at least in part or why els seal the gates and call in the perimeter patrols for reinforcement.<BR> Passing silently along the winding raised pathway Erinhue went down into the shadow of Mt. Mindolluien to the Houses of the Dead.<BR>
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Postby erinhue » Tue Aug 15, 2000 6:46 pm

<b>Erinhue</b> kept his hand on the hilt of his sword even though he knew that anything he might meet on this road would be unlikely to fall to a mere blade. He passed the mansion tomb of Earnur son of Earnill II. who was lost long ago in Minas Morgul. the tomb was empty and Erinhue hurried past it. <BR>When he came to the House of Stewards, Erinhue was relieved that he would not have to venture too far inside. The last ruling steward of Gondor, Lord Denethor would be place near the entrance. Erinhue climbed the granite stairs and entered the age old silence within.<BR><BR>
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Postby erinhue » Tue Aug 15, 2000 6:55 pm

In the near dark silence of the House of Stewards the dragonharps jewled eyes flashed and Agarak's bass strings began to vibrate.<BR>"Be quiet." <b>Erinhue</b> chided the harp. "If what I believe is true we would not want your voice heard in this place."<BR>A few short yards from the entrance stood a shoulder high granit pedestal topped by a thick velvet cushion of the deepest most regal blue. A golden urn containing the tragic ashes of Lord Denethor, rested upright on the cushion. Beside it sat a perfect globe of murky crystal, the damaged Seeing Stone of Minas Tirith.<BR>"If I am right, Inglorwill have a very useful tool."<BR>Carefully, Erinhue scooped up the stone and placed it in the special pack prepared for the purpose.<BR>Leaving the House of Stewards, Erinhue began the trip to meet Inglor in the south of Gondor.
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Postby Radagast » Tue Aug 15, 2000 7:12 pm

Tulvar the Woodsman took another long swig of his ale and sighed: Gondor was not as it used to be. Though the Inn was well lit, there was another kind of Darkness here - one that bordered on the edges of the senses, impossible to see, yet somehow still felt. Most were not aware of it and they could give no name to the creeping shadow that lay upon their souls, yet still they drank and ate with a heavy heart, though the night was not yet upon the lands.<BR><BR>Ever since the King had returned, Tulvar had traveled between Gondor and the wilderness, relaying whatever news he saw fit to reveal. He was not a spy, a barabarian, or a mercenary, but many gave him such roles in their minds' eye and looked down upon him, judging him by half-truths and fleeting images. In truth, Tulvar was none of these things: even he was not certain what role he was to play in the world. But he knew one thing for certain: despite whatever differences he had with the citizens of Gondor, the City itself, and what it stood for, was worthing upholding at any price. None may respect him for this, but he would be true to his own beliefs until the end.<BR><BR>Tulvar sipped his drink and looked about the bar. The main hall of the Inn was unusually hushed, and once lost whispers could be heard by those with trained ears. The Woodsman caught snippets of news: treason, Shadows in the East, and armies on the move. As he listened closer, he learned that someone of the Guard was accused of treason and a darker power was deemed at work. <BR><BR>But then silence fell. Those who spoke in whispers turned to him as they felt his eyes upon them. Three men they were, large and ill-tempered, and they gave him a murderous look before leaving their table. They left the bar in a mix of anger and haste, and all eyes were then upon him for a moment. <BR><BR>Tulvar cooly finished off his drink, seemingly unconcerned, and the crowd in the Inn slowly turned away from him. What they were expecting, none could say, but the air was thick with tension and the taste of fear. Words were muted, nervous glances were cast about the room, and forced laughter rang loud and hollow. <BR><BR>Night would be falling soon, and Tulvar spoke quietly to the Innkeeper, reserving a room for the night. The man was glad to have any business, and he seemed to only expected worse times ahead. As he headed to his room, the Woodsman wondered how true such things might be...<BR>
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Thu Aug 17, 2000 3:47 pm

Inglor hears a rustling in the bushes and jumps, taking his friend by surprise. He is amazed to see Erinhue so soon; though Erinhue speaks no word of how he found him, on sight of the Stone Inglor more than suspects the feat of willpower Erinhue has expended to reach the rogue Guard.<BR><BR>After long, hard work with the Stone, Inglor concludes that Radagast remains to the South as they had thought; the Mountains are still closed to his vision. They continue...<BR><BR><BR>Rumors begin of creatures in the Black Land, Orcs, Trolls, and new creatures of unknown kind. Though the King begins to believe in the truth of Inglor's belief, misfortune had chanced such that one of the Palantir's guards was one that he had loved as a brother; both had died, and Inglor would be brought back, whatever it took, if it were within the power of the King.
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Postby Jon Goatleaf » Thu Aug 17, 2000 7:56 pm

A darkness lay over Khand.<BR><BR>Ovatha sat uncomfortably on his throne in Sturlusta Khand, the capital of the country, pondering wha to do. After the War of the Ring he was forced to sign a treaty with Elessar, his sworn enemy. After the fall of Mordor the Variags lost considerable military strength, their only surviving alies in Rhun and Harad having been forced into the same position with Gondor.<BR><BR><i>Mat say?</i> he mused. What to do? <i>T'Tariags paroh darat balat et de. Narked, Asdred, i Uamud ko khod.</i> The Gondorians continue to push into my lands. Harad, Rhun, and Umbar have all fallen.<BR><BR>The lord of Khand rose from his seat to survey his land. Walking through the throne room of his palace he passed through a wide arch onto a low balcony. Over the outer wall of Sturlusta Khand the plains of Khand stretched west and south as far as the eye could see. On the north horizon the black wall of the Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow, obscured any farther vision.<BR><BR>It was in those mountains the men of Khand had their most sacred site: Olbamarl, the burial-place of kings and the temple of Uvatha, Ninth of the Nazgul and living god of the Variags. The Variags believed that after the War of the Ring Uvatha had ascended to a higher spiritual level, and now watched over his people through the mortal King.<BR><BR>Ovatha's vision was drawn toward the northern mountains. Perhaps if he went, Uvatha would aid him against the encroaching Gondorians.<BR><BR>He made up his mind. Ovatha walked back into his throne room and up a flight of stairs to his private chambers. Placing his diadem on his bed and wrapping a black cloak about his body he walked out and locked the door. Down another flight of stairs the King went, and into the palace's foyer. Walking through a pair of great doors Ovatha was stopped by a pair of spear-bearing guards, though they quickly backed away and bowed when they recognised him.<BR><BR>The lord of Khand walked down the palace steps and through the city's bustling main street. Just before he came to the great gates he turned into a large building to his left: the city stables. The stable boy knew him immediately and bowed in respect. Tossing the lad a few coins Ovatha climbed upon a beautiful brown steed and picked up the reigns. He rode through the gates and turned to the North.<BR><BR>His journey had begun.
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Postby Aglanor » Fri Aug 18, 2000 11:17 am

Angurth retrieved his knife from the corpse. He inhaled the bitter smell of blood. He really loved that smell. He first knew that when he had tripped over a stone and had wounds on his leg. Ever since he tried to spill as much blood from preferably other bodies, as possible. This was corps no. 136. He counted them all, and put a small line next to the other 135 lines. It started bleeding. He softly licked it away. <BR><BR>After enjoying the blood, he looked north. The city of minas tirith was in vision. He hated it. Gondorans had killed his parents. But revenge was near. The only problem was, that he wasn't the only one hoping to destroy Minas Tirith. The Mouth of Sauron - who now went under another name - was also after genocide. Angurth knew that he had to kill The Mouth, before The mouth destroyed Minas Tirith. Revenge was Angurths. It was, it is, and it will always be.
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Sun Aug 20, 2000 6:26 pm

As soon as Inglor saw Tulvar the Woodsman he drew his sword, ready for battle. It was work of the Elves, and had been passed down to Inglor through generations; as soon as he saw the bright glint upon its edges he looked around him, and the Woodsman nodded.<BR><BR>"The spies of Herumor are about us; let us seek shelter for the night."<BR><BR>Inglor trusted Tulvar only a little, for he knew that the Woodsman might have been sent by the King, or corrupted by the rising Dark Lord, but for now he knew these woods better than any alive; and their lives might depend on it. For the near future, it seemed that their lives were bound together; South, and East.
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Tue Aug 22, 2000 4:18 pm

OOC where is everyone?<BR><BR>maybe we ought to make it a month at least...
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Postby Jon Goatleaf » Tue Aug 22, 2000 6:40 pm

Marul the Second sat in a tavern in the Easterling city of Riavod. The noble, after leaving his homeland farther east, had wandered through the Sagath deserts for days before he came to the fertile plains about the Sea of Rhun and the city of Riavod, located at the mouth of the Celduin.<BR><BR>A tall man was Marul of Sagath and proud. <i>Better than these rabble,</i> he thought, observing the local Logath people with disdain. After a brief civil war ending with the destruction of the royal palace. The King had been killed and Marul, his son and heir of Marul the Great, had been forced into exile. Weeks of walking had taken him here, a temporary safehaven where he could rest a while and heal his wounds.<BR><BR>Leaving the tavern and paying the barman he walked through the bustling streets of Riavod. In addition to the native Logath, a people closely akin to the Sagath, there were tribal Hurdria and Kiltoshi, wealthy Dorwinrim, and an occasional merchant from the Dale-lands. It was truly a melting pot, home to several cultures all living together in relative harmony.<BR><BR>As he came to the city's western gates Marul stared out over the vast plains of Rhun, a near-endless stretch of grassy meadows. Looking back into Riavod he shuddered, remembering the threat he faced from Sagath horsemen. He didn't want to leave the city, but he knew that if he stayed the revolutionaries from his homeland would hunt him down and kill him.<BR><BR>Summoning a good amount of courage the prince of the Sagath walked hesitantly out of Riavod into the horse-plains of Rhun. He knew that if he was found there would be no hiding in the open, treeless land, but beyond were the safehavens of Greenwood and Gondor.<BR><BR>As he embarked on a new leg on his journey he thought, <i>There might still be hope....</i>
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Postby Aglanor » Thu Aug 24, 2000 11:46 am

Angurth walked into an inn in Minas Tirith. An hout later he walked out again. Only this time the inn was totally quiet. If someone would walk in, he/she would have fainted by the sight of twentysix corpses in the common room. This first step of his revenge had been taken.
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Postby Radagast » Thu Aug 24, 2000 7:06 pm

Tulvar, Erinhue and Inglor made painful progress away from the City, hiding as they could in the tangle scrublands and forests. Now and again, the wild drums of the Pukel-men could be heard, but no living man had ever seen their kind again after their brief encounter with King Theoden of Rohan. In the darkness of the night, their seemed to be countless drums, though the Pukel-men were a dying race.<BR><BR>Tulvar and Erinhue pressed onwards, but Inglor was troubled, and many things pressed on his mind. But above all was the call of the Palantir and a lingering fear that some terrible evil lay just beyond his vision. Sometimes, the gift of far-sight can be a curse as well as a blessing.<BR><BR>As a woodsman, Tulvar had often led the lost and frightened through the woods, but this night was different. He knew that the two men with him were surely tied somehow with the rumors he had heard in the City - should they be traitors, he would slay them himself in the name of the King. But they did not seem like traitors, although Tulvar was not the best judge of character. They bore the look of tired kings and weary guards, not that of fleeing criminals. It was a subtle difference, but Tulvar, having seen enough fleeing criminals in the woodlands, took note of it.<BR><BR>Onwards they journeyed, and pursuit seemed less likely with each passing minute, but still Minias Tirith loomed up behind along the flanks of the Mountain. What was once an everlasting symbol of peace now seemed dark and twisted somehow, and the mountain frowned down upon them, daring them to flee from its shadows.<BR><BR>Finally, Inglor spoke, "Do know of the Guardian of Mirkwood - Radagast the Brown? You must take us to him, but you can leave us there and return to the City. Just tell no one of what you saw."<BR><BR>Tulvar laughed and said, "I will speak to whoever I want, and I would lead the Guard to you, if I thought you were deserving of such things."<BR><BR>Inglor and Erinhue looked nervously at each other, and their hands went to their weapons.<BR><BR>Tulvar spoke again, "Nay! There is no need for violence! I do not trust you, but I can tell that you are no ordinary criminals, if you are criminals at all..."<BR><BR>"We are wanted in Minias Tirith and will face grave punishment if we return there. I think we are most certainly criminals."<BR><BR>"That remains yet to be seen - I have walked the lands enough to know that laws and kings make mistakes, and I have been hunted for such things many times. I will aid you in your needs, for even if I do not trust you, none go to Radagast with dark intentions if they intend to live."<BR><BR>He smiled and resumed the flight, saying, "For your sake, I hope that you do not serve the Darkness..."<BR>
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Fri Aug 25, 2000 2:53 pm

The Mouth of Sauron laughed as he watched from afar the few little people scrambling to fight him; what can they do anyway? He would enjoy dealing with them personally.....<BR><BR><BR><BR>ooc yea really creative Ryan lol, but I've been busy; school just started, and with it after school band practices, homework, etc...sorry.
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Postby Aglanor » Sat Aug 26, 2000 11:59 am

Garchi had walked far and approached the huge city of Minas Tirith. As he walked through the first gate he couldn't help at marvelling on the amount of Mithril that had been used for the gate. After standing there a while he chose an inn and went inside. Corpses lay everywhere. <i>Nice choice</i>, Garchi thought. Indeed it wasn't for soon he got arrested for charge of manslaughter. <BR><BR>After sleeping in the jailcel, Garchi woke up and found his stuff on the floor, the door wide open and a man standing in the doorway. "Well? Aren't you going to escape? Do you want to explain this to the guards?", he said pointing at the broken lock. Garchi picked up his back pack and followed the man on high pace. Outside the city they stopped. The man started to make a fire. Garchi decided to introduce himself to his saviour. "Goodday I'm Garchi, at your service."<BR><BR>The man looked at him anxiously, before replying. "My name is..."he hesitated,"....Angurth."
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Tue Aug 29, 2000 6:23 pm

ahhhhhhhhh this time limit seems to be a disaster, so much for it. Give it another month or what do u think?
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Postby Radagast » Tue Aug 29, 2000 7:14 pm

(OOC: Not really sure what to say, Morgoth, but perhaps we should either stick to a page limit or a plot limit - when we pass a certain climatic scene and resolution, we all go home (or get buried, whatever). Believe me, I'd like to post a lot more, but silly things like work get in the way.)<BR>
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Postby Aglanor » Wed Aug 30, 2000 3:44 pm

(OOC: the plot limit sounds ideal. Once we have a point where all of us think; after this building down, we start ending the story. BTW, Erinhue, how many char. do you play? Or are they all called Erinhue? )
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Wed Aug 30, 2000 6:13 pm

Erinhue mentioned a forced absence, which I think has begun, and lasts about two weeks did he say?<BR><BR>The plot limit is about what we've been doing on this board before; problem is everybody (myself included) is reluctant to end the fun by actually reaching that turning point, but opts instead to describe the journey to the Mountains or some such, and nobody stands up and says "OK we're at the Mountains". THat's why i liked the time limit better but maybe pages is better after all.
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Postby erinhue » Sat Sep 02, 2000 11:24 am

Dusk performed its slow fade into night and the wanderers settled around another evening fire in another woodland camp.<BR> <b>Erinhue</b> sat on the fallen body of a once towering oak, plickint an idle melody on the strings of the dragonharp. the leaden notes fell through the air as if they had neither strength nor will to soar. The hollow sound of the harp matched the empty, absent sound of Erinhue's voice.<BR> <BR> <b>"The story isn't over just because the battle's won<BR> And evil isn't finished with the destroying of The One<BR> There are shadows in the night<BR> That breed darkness in the light<BR> And if shadows we would flee<BR> By pretending not to see<BR> Then the Evil overtakes us 'fore we know it is begun."</b><BR> <BR> "Inglor" the bard stopped playing and leaned the dragonharp against his knee."Inglor we cant just hide from the guard by wandering about following this, this woodsman. I have heard talk of him and I was willing to believe he was something better, but he doesn't trust us and I don't think we should be trusting him.<BR> He's leading us in circles you know. We should have reached that mountain by now. We could have done it on our own, we can see the damed thing for Eru's sake."<BR><BR> The Woodsman said nothng. There were no words for the piercing look he gave the young bard.<BR>
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Postby erinhue » Sat Sep 02, 2000 11:40 am

"Erinhue, be at peace." Inglor tried to sooth his friend's natural good nature. "I too feel the sting of impatience but with so few we can hardly storm the castle so to speak."<BR> "If it's an army you want,"<b>Erinhue</b>said, "<BR>Agarak and I will raise one for you. I played that song to feed myself while I was catching up to you. There were some nights.." The bard's voice trailed off." he turned a strained expression to the former guradsman.<BR> "I'd get that army for you, Inglor, a full company at least, I'd stake my life on it. The darkness is out there, it's real I've seen it for myself and we've got to do something more than fumble around with avoiding the guards.<BR> We can't keep waiting for Radagast either. Who knows the ways of the Wise." the young man's voice was rising as he spoke. "For all we know Radagast is already doing something about it and is in dire need of our help while we sit here in the midsts of nowhere. I say we be done with this woodsman and go put an end to this Mouth of Sauron or whatever he calls himself and have done with it."<BR> Inglor watched the woodsman make a move towards his knife. The former guardsman grabbed the hilt of his own short blade and waved the man off. Turval relaxed into a guarded, sullen at ease. Inglor used the full force of command in his voice when he shouted, <BR> "Erinhue, be still!"<BR>
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Postby erinhue » Sat Sep 02, 2000 11:50 am

<b>Erinhue</b> snapped to unintentional attention in reaction to his former commander's order.<BR> Inglor watched and waited as his friend's breathing slowed to a reasonable pace.<BR> "such outbursts are not like you, my friend, what is the matter?"<BR>Erinhue sat down again and picked up the harp. he held his hand poised as if to resume playing, but reached to stroke the little dragon's nose instead.<BR><BR>Agarak's jewel red eyes remained cold and dull.<BR><BR>In a whisper of a voice, Erinhue began to speak. <BR>"Ever since Agarak and I sang clear the burnt and damaged vision of the Stone of Minas Tirith.." he stopped again looked up at the night sky and shook his head. In a minuet he turned again to stare straight into Inglor's eyes."<BR><i>"He's watching, Inglor. He's watching and he's closer than the king. I'm afraid the darkness will overtake us."</i><BR>
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Postby erinhue » Sat Sep 02, 2000 11:55 am

(OOC: sorry if I got a little carried away, just trying to help move things along. I only got to start the one character before I left and Morgoth cut the way I intended to start the second. Probably a smart move. I got a new idea any way and will post asap. and by the way, I' back.)
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Postby Radagast » Sat Sep 02, 2000 1:01 pm

Tulvar let his hand move away from his knife, but he still did not trust these two renegades from Minias Tirith. Then again, Tulvar didn't really trust anyone, and he had been in his share of knife-fights, and had the scars to prove it.<BR><BR>The Woodsman gruffly said, "You are fine ones to be doubting my loyality - I didn't leave the City with Guards at my tail!"<BR><BR>Inglor glowered at him, but Tulvar managed to put a bit of forgiveness in his voice as he continued, "But this is not the place for such things. If we claw each's throats out, only the Shadow will win in the end. I don't think any of us want that to happen!"<BR><BR>Silence followed his words, and everyone simply looked at the small crackling fire. The night was thick, and the darkness of the bramble-filled woods kept their location a secret. Still, there was little they could do merely hiding in the darkness, and their gloom was too great for them to continue their long march. <BR><BR>An hour passed, and then another, before Tulvar spoke again. He stood up, pointing to a bald ridge not far from their campfire, and said, "Look - do you see something there?"<BR><BR>All eyes were upon the hill, but the night was too dismal to see details from afar. The moon had quickly been swallowed by clouds, and the overcast sky lent a slate-like backdrop to the forest. Yet, against this dark sky was an even darker shape. The being moved down the hillside, and all could hear the faint clatter of a horse's hooves. The Guard had found them!<BR><BR>The renegades came to their feet and drew their swords, but their hands trembled for they did not wish to shed the blood of their own kin, not even in need. Tulvar hefted his axe and cursed: he was not fond of killing men who doing their duty.<BR><BR>Slowly now, the figure drew near, and it could be seen that it wore a cloak of dark color, and a long weapon - perhaps a lance - was held in its right hand. It entered the glow of the firelight, but a strange darkness still seemed to be around it, and its face was hidden beneath a hood.<BR><BR>Inglor lept at it, sword upraised, crying out, "For the West!"<BR><BR>There was a flash of light, and Inglor was thrown back through the air, finally hitting the dirt with a heavy thud. He lay there, stunned, but unharmed. Tulvar and Erinehue fell back, fearing this new menace.<BR><BR>A voice then spoke to them from beneath the hood, "Hardly the welcome I expected from you, Tulvar, nor from men of Gondor."<BR><BR>Tulvar put down his axe and said with relief, "Radagast! How did you find us?"<BR><BR>The Wizard spoke as he got off his steed. "It was not that hard, really. Remember that there are many who live in these woods who can tell you tales if you know how to speak with them. But you need not fear that others will be following us."<BR><BR>Radagast laid down his staff and went to help Inglor to his feet. The young man was still a bit dazed, but he would recover soon enough. The Wizard then asked, "So, why are you wandering through the woods at night? Tell me your tale..."<BR><BR>And so, they told the Wizard all that had happened to them.<BR>
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Radagast
Ranger of the North

 
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Postby Morgoth_Bauglir » Sat Sep 02, 2000 1:17 pm

OOC: sorry about all this business where I haven't exactly helped the plot along with all my OOC's; why don't we try for a 4- or 5-pg limit and see where that takes us? And welcome back Erinhue.<BR>____<BR><BR>Inglor awakens one morning to find a cloaked shape looking upon him. Oddly enough, though he wonders at the identity of this intruder, never does he reach for his blade, nor ask why the sentry let him through. Only when the figure moves aside, and is no longer silhouetted by the sun, can he see the worn, dull-brown color of the cloak, and breathes the single word, "Radagast"<BR>________<BR><BR>The group never questions how Radagast has found them, has become a part of their group without so much as being invited. Seeing him here, in the forests he has lived in for times incomprehensible to the mortal travelers, it seems unquestionable that Radagast should know where he is wanted, should come upon those that seek him, whether for good purposes or evil, long ere they should find him.<BR><BR>Indeed, when they ask, Radagast has already the information they seek: the location of the former Mouth of Sauron's hideaway; as well as other information that they are glad of, though little of it bodes well for them; but whence comes the Mouth's newfound power, Radagast will not speak yet, nor tell why.<BR><BR>And so they journey.
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Morgoth_Bauglir
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Postby Aglanor » Sat Sep 02, 2000 2:52 pm

Rain dripped into the cave, with an annoying sound. The cave was hot and sweaty. In the corner the dwarf was now snoring loud. Very loud. Angurth couldn't sleep. He thought of the tale the dwarf had told him. About how he wanted adventure, and got banned by his father. Angurth didn't know why it kept him awake. It was some sort of....itch in the back of his head. He couldn't figure it out. <BR><BR>Suddenly voices became clear. <i>Probably those foolish Tower Guards again, trying to catch us</i>. For the last week, the two of them had been raiding towns, burning farms, and making trouble within Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. (OOC: It had been rebuilt in the FA.). They were now outlaws. At the moment they moved west and approached Southern Mirkwood. Strange tales of a magician took place in these parts. The dwarf was afraid to enter. <BR><BR>The voices went away. Angurth laughed silently. <i>Fools. They're all fools.</i>
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Postby erinhue » Mon Sep 04, 2000 9:10 am

"Radagast it lightens my heart to hve you with us." <b>Erinhue</b> said.<BR><BR>"Not quite so eager to leave without me, I see." Radagast said to the bard. "I also see you still carry that harp."<BR><BR>"Agarak is always with me." Erinhue replied.<BR><BR>"And I still don't know if that is for good or ill or no matter at all. I see that it sleeps."<BR><BR>Ragagast nodded to his own council and said no more to the young bard.
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Warrior/Bard of Belfalas Illuvatar's Bright Spirit


 
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