Fulfilling the hunger

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

Postby the~one~elf » Mon Mar 10, 2003 2:46 pm

Tenumas' dark hair glistened in the sunlight as he stood beside his stallion, Rocco. He lay his hand on Rocco's mane, contemplating the journey ahead. Tenumas dropped his hands from the beast's neck, stroking the deep cut scar on his palm softly, almost tenderly. One observing would nearly mistake him for having a warm soul.<BR> <BR> So many years had passed since the wound, later turned into his scar, had been inflicted upon him; yet the battle still raged within him. His scar suddenly flashed with a white hot pain, and once again he felt the cold steel of the blade being thrust through the skin of his inner hand. <i>'Run! Fly, sister! Leave me, now, go!' 'No! I will not leave you to die.' Orcs surrounded the two young elves, taking the sister. Tenumas reached his hand out to stop them, but steel tore into the palm, felling him to the ground. The girl screamed, struggling to get to her brother, fighting futily. Tenumas lay on the ground, unable to move. Badly beaten, with a dagger still peircing his hand, he was beyond all pain. He listened to the far away screams of his younger sibling until the black of the night swallowed the sound</i><BR><BR> Tenumas had played the memory through his mind over and over, savouring the pain and agony it brought upon him. Time had battered his soul, though his face remained placid and handsome, without age or time added. His bright, piercing green eyes held another story, though. He was now stronger than ever, highly skilled with his sword, which was ever ready at his belt. He played with the hilt thoughtfully. He could also track with an expertise beyond even the best of elves, but his swordsmanship was beyond even those skills.<BR><BR> So many years had taught him much, but had hollowed his heart and numbed his mind to all thoughts save the hunger he always bore. The knawing, burning hunger tearing through his mind. It would not grant him relief until that which he was seeking was fulfilled. Revenge was what he sought. Revenge of those who had taken his sister. <i>I will get her back.</i> he thought. <BR><BR> Finally, the elf jumped onto Rocco and started off. "Two hours longer until I am outside of Mirkwood's cursed borders." He spoke to himself, scouring a wheathered and torn map. "well Rocco my friend, we have quite a journey ahead of us. We shall see her again, no matter what." as he spoke, his voice lowered and he stopped Rocco completely. Raking the forest with his eyes, he dropped himself noislessly onto the ground and crept to the source of the noise he had earlier percieved. His face shone in the moonlight with anger, his eyes were still full of murder, as he crept upon the intruder.
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Postby Erinion » Mon Mar 10, 2003 7:11 pm

<i>"Hmm..."</i><BR><BR>A soft, contemplative hum drifted gently down above Tenumas.<BR><BR>" ...you are <i>far</i> from the realms of Thranduil, elf."<BR><BR>The voice was deep, noble even, and every word it uttered was infused with an air of utter and complete confidence; the confidence of a predator who has cornered his prey.<BR><BR>Following the voice, a shadow leapt down from a tree. It was hard to make the figure out. Seemingly, the very shadows of Mirkwood clung to him. But two things were immediately certain: that he was alarmingly close, and that he was a cunning woodsman. <BR><BR>Eyes pierced the heavy gloom of the forest, the clear gray eyes of a young man. But the gaze was that of a master far beyond his years. He stood perhaps a head taller than the elf, and possessed a lean build. Slender, one might say, but it was the slenderness of a blade, all hard and sharp edges. He held himself ramrod straight, giving off an impression of tirelessness, defiance, and wariness all at once. <BR>A wild, untameable shock of brown hair crowned his head. His face was narrow and grim, the barest wisps of a beard just beginning to grow. It was the unwrinkled face of youth. Less than twenty summers had this one seen, but already a scar ran under his right eye.<BR>He wore the loose gray and brown garbs of a woodsman, covered by a weatherworn gray cloak. Mud caked black boots shod his feet. Two gauntlets he wore, made of a metal stronger than triple steel and more beautiful than silver. <i>Mithril</i>, it was, the metal coveted by all the Free Folk. Strapped to his back was a mighty bow of yew and at his side was a black scabbard with an plain brown hilt sticking out.<BR><BR>He advanced menacingly on the elf, but stopped short. For a while, the stranger only stared. And then, laughter! Long and clear was that sound, carrying through the woods and frightening away those lesser creatures of evil. <BR><BR>Now, in truth, this was one of the Dunedain, that is, 'Men of the West'. They were the last remnants of ancient Numenor, proud and stern as the sea lords of old, though this one was perhaps a little less grim than most. Strange and mysterious, most folk deemed them and they are ever wary of these dark men whom they called 'Rangers'. But the Elves know the greater truth, that the Dunedain were the hidden defenders of many a town and village. Thanklessly, they hunted the wilds, hunting fell beasts and brigands. And sometimes, they came among ordinary men and told ancient tales of bygone days, though it did little to ease the distrust among those folks.<BR><BR>"Come now," the Dunadan said. "Stay your fury. There are no enemies here. At least, not too close. I am called Aldarion. What brings you to these forlorn parts?"
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Postby the~one~elf » Thu Mar 13, 2003 1:16 pm

Tenumas gazed intently at this stranger called Aldarion. It felt good to laugh, he had not been able to since...well since they took her away. Though this laugh was not one of joy, but a stale impression of what he had long ago had, it was welcome in his throut. <i>but enough of that</i> he thought, straightening up. "why should I trust you? None are trusted by me. Though you are to be considered lucky, I did not slay you instantly." Tenumas gave him one last look. "You are young, ranger, I shall spare you, though I advise you to stay clear of these parts." With this he turned back towards rocco, paying attention to every movement made by the ranger.<BR><BR> "Stop!" shouted the ranger Aldarion, rushing to Tenumas' side. "To where are you going?" Tenumas turned slowly. "Stranger, that is none of your concern. But if it will quiet you I will tell you. I am going to the south.I know not where, but I will find the place. I know it contains many orcs, it shall not be difficult to find. No more shall be said on that subject, now." his eyes flashed with the sudden brilliance of an idea. "You say you are not in the wrong young one, what would you say if I asked you to come along?" Tenumas had always felt facinated by humans as a young elf and had not seen one for years upon years. He could use the company, as well. His soul had longed for conversation. Tenumas had not spoken to a soul since the dissapearance of his sister.<BR><BR> suddenly, the scar started to burn uncontrollably. Tenumas flinched slightly, but did not falter. It was finally time to go.
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Postby Erinion » Thu Mar 13, 2003 6:22 pm

Now the Dunedan looked perplexed. This elf was a hostile sort and had actually threatened him. <BR><BR><i>Most curious</i>, Aldarion thought. <BR><BR>"Trust is to be earned not given, I did not ask that of you. After all, we have just met," he replied. "You have put words in my mouth, as the old expression goes."<BR><BR>He looked out into a grove of linden trees before continuing, "You speak of trust, but now you ask me to accompany you to a place of foes."<BR><BR>The tall man laughed grimly, "You are a strange one, certainly. I have dwelt in Imladris among Elrond's kindred and have come to know them after a fashion, yet you act differently. What has touched you so? That scar of yours is a story waiting to be told, I gather."<BR><BR>With the long, practiced strides of a well travelled wanderer, Aladarion walked a short distance off and gestured Tenumas over.<BR><BR>"Come, I must know my companion before I go forth with him upon a quest," he said with a serious air. "And for that matter I would know of what you propose. Lucky, you call me, but luck does not sustain one in the wilds. Even as a lad, I was ever eager to wander the woods. Though I do not claim as much journeying as others of my brethren, still, many summers have passed as I scoured treacherous places; yea even unto the borders of Minas Morgul.<BR>"Nay, it is not luck, that lets one survive. You say you have spared me, but heed my words, my kindred and I are not slain easily, even if you be a most fell fighter, which looks likely. You will know of what I speak should we ever reach the place of foes. But now, tell me, what fate has transpired to bring you thus far? It is a long ways yet and there is much time to fill." <BR>
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Postby the~one~elf » Fri Mar 14, 2003 5:32 pm

With that the two rode on silently. "Well?" Aldarion inquired. Tenumas looked sideways calmly. Tenumas knew he was unlike other elves, though he did not know in which way. This Dunadan, in turn, was a rather unusual example of a human. Rather fast to trust. <i>but of course, not everyone is as untrusting as you are, you understand.</i> he reminded himself. "I am in search of my younger sister." He explained. "I know not where, exactly, as I have stated. I shall find it, though." <BR><BR> Tenumas turned away to hide the sudden emotion that had sprung out over his face. He quickly recovered. "As for the scar...well let us just say that it comes from an important battle. He stroked his palm, still burning slightly. "Let us not speak of such things at this time. I feel a presence other than us about these woods. I feel you will find it far more unpleasant than I should you come across it. I have long sensed it about this part of the forest." Turanin sped up, riding ahead into the darkness, beckoning his new found accomplice to follow.
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