Arassuil's Journal

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Arassuil's Journal

Postby Arassuil » Thu Apr 17, 2008 11:24 pm

Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Víressë, 26th day

We had time to rest, and each Ranger that was not on watch were allowed to return to their families. It was a welcome relief, for days had been long and the miles hard. My father and I stopped in the town of Bree for a bit of rest. He was going to stay here when I go tomorrow to my wife and sons, still a day's ride away. It will be a blessed time, and I know my eldest son Arathorn will be eager to tell me and show me all he has learned. I long for his eagerness of youth, something that seems to leave a man soon after he becomes a Ranger. He will be one soon, and I dread what his days will bring. But I rest for now, writing my thoughts, for it is my fear that rest will be something we will not find much of in years ahead. Why? I don't know why. I only have a feeling in my gut.

It was a feeling that only grew worse when, as we relaxed this evening with an ale, enjoying some bread and cheese at this fine Inn, the Prancing Pony of Bree, that my father told me he was too old to be riding so long. Age had crept up on him in the exceeding lines about his eyes, and the once dark curled locks were well peppered with silver. Here, for the first time, at hearing his words, I could see in him that his days were short.

Mother had passed a few years before. I have yet to write about this, for it had pained me to ponder. But her passing had affected father more, for when mother passed, she took a part of my father with her. He remained strong as our chieftain, but evermore did he lean on me after that time. I knew then that my day of becoming chieftain was fast approaching. He again expressed his confidence in my being able to lead, pointing out that I had been second in command for twenty years now. I can't say I look forward to being chieftain, but it is the destiny of first-born of the line of Isildur, heir of Elendil. I cannot see it, but I can feel that in days long ahead, well past my days, all that we have held to in our heritage will come to fruit.

We talked of this a little this night, of a glimmer of hope warmed us from inside. A warmth that spoke silently to us of the great deeds of our forefathers, and or hope in the deeds of our children and grand children, lest evil seek out the flame and extinguish it. It is my feeling, and that also of my father's, that the days of my time will be evermore hard. I pass short thought of the days of my son, for I will hope to pass onto him days that will be better.

I grow weary as this night reaches for the morning. A light rain is falling, just enough to allow water to run off the roof in its melody. I will sleep now, if I can on a comfortable mat. I have grown used to the wild, where if there is no rock or twig jamming me in the back, I feel something is out of place. Yet I am tired, and I look forth to seeing my beloved again.

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Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Víressë, 27th day

The sun broke through the cloud that had poured forth rain all night. Only now did it cease, with the trickle of water still running from the roof. Bright it was though, and I am readying to go to the common room for a small meal. I am sure my father awaits me. I hope to be home tomorrow in the arms of my wife, and the next day, to spar swords with my son.

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Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 9th day

Time home has been a blessing! Yet it seems so fleeting. My eldest son has become a man in my absence, and I have decide that he will ride with me back to Bree so he can see his grandfather. My daughter is blossoming into womanhood, and my youngest son has grown straight up. Soon too he will be a man full grown and ready to ride, but for now he studies the lore and trains in weaponry. Sparring with him and his brother was such a joy, especially when I see they lack not in their cunning and vigilance.

Yes, the time has gone by so fast, and again we are summoned. I was meaning to write of my days afield while at home, but it was the farthest thing from my mind that I could not take it upon myself to pick up the quill. Let me just say that the unquiet nights whispers of the stirring evil in the east, and it will likely be there where we go. Ever vigilant must we be on the eastern watch, and also to the north, for the wisps of the darkness of Angmar linger long, awaiting their day to arise unseen. But we watch evermore.

It is late, and I will rest this last night holding my wife. For in the morning light we ride.

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Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 10th day

Setting ou tin the morning dew was bittersweet. I look long on the dark curls flowing free about her shoulders as she wraps her arms tight around herself to ward off the chill. Only moments before we were warm, in an embrace I wished would never end. Arathorn was eager to ride, but I was not. The days were growing dark, and the Rangers were evermore hard pressed to watch and protect. Still, it was time to go. With a whisper and a kiss, I turned my horse and we rode away.

We would go to Bree, and we will gather at the Prancing Pony Inn. There we would talk and decide where we should go. There were too many places and not enough Rangers, but this was the way of the Dunedain of the north, ever since the dark dais of the Gladden, when Isildur, his sons, and army were wiped out oh so long ago. Will we ever recover from that? Can the days get darker than that? I look to Arathorn and watch him as we ride. His senses were keen, and his horse well-mannered. I see the future in him, but I am weighted by a feeling he will not see the fullness of his days.

But enough of such thoughts. The day was growing bright even if clouds began to obscure the newly-risen sun. We would be in Bree soon, and it will be a joyous time, especially for Arathorn, for he has not seen his grandfather Arahad in many years. He has grown up.

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Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 12th day

Yesterday was spent mostly at the Prancing Pony Inn, where we paced ourselves on the ale. It was a local Bree version of one of the ever so fine Shire ales, and obviously a local favourite. We had gone out and stocked supply after breakfast, but was back after the peak of the day. There we sat an dtalked and laughed. As the shadows outside grew long, the talk simmered into more serious words. Arathorn asked many questions, and Arahad told him much of his days in the wild. The local townfolk left pretty much to ourselves, for we sat in a distant shadowy corner of the common room. It had become known over the years as "them Ranger's table", for if one of us were in town and wanted to be found, here we would be. Our rough look and quiet shadowy demeanor made most ill-at-ease, but we took comfort in seeing they were little bothered by rumour of what lurked outside the city gates not far away.

Darkness settled and stars appeared in the skies above, and the scent of lamp-oil and candle joined the woodsmoke, herbed-stew, and ale. Arathorn grew quiet and we listened to the banter of the night's crowd. He rose and went to the bar to get a finishing tankard of ale for each of us, and both my father and I watched as he walked away. Arahad then said to me,

"It is time. As I spoke before, I say now. It is time for Arathorn to ride out with us. I will tell him when he returns. He will ride with me as part of my hand, and you will go east to the Forsaken and meet Halbaril. There you will take command of his hand while he goes home. He has been out too long and is in need of rest."

I heard the words, but was silent. So it would be, for my father, still chieftain, spoke. But I had to ask why I did not get to ride out with my son his first time.

"Do I not get to see my son ride out his first time?"

I said gravely, Arahad answered,

"It will not be. But it will only be a brief time, and we will meet at in a short time. I will arrange to send word to his mother that her boy has become a man"

I was quiet after this. The look on my fahter's face spoke much more than what words could say. Arathorn's somewhat heated demeanor coupled with his strong will was cause for concern in Arahad's mind, seeing days ahead. I settled and told myself this would be a good thing to do now. I nodded as Arathorn brought back three tankards.

At first we sipped at the edge and wiped the foam from our lips. And I sat quiet while Arahad told Arathorn the news. Excitement followed by concern came over him. Saying if he knew he would have brought this sword or that knife, and packed different and such was cut short by Arahad.

"Young Dunedain, a ranger does not always have the luxury of planning and many times is caught wanting. But it is our way to adapt and use what we have, no matter. This is a first test and you will learn that all you need is within grasp at all times. Now I suggest we down our drinks and settle up, for the morning will be here soon enough."

So today as I sit under an oak midway between Bree and the Forsaken, resting and capturing my thoughts while alone on the road. Arahad and Arathorn rode away south out of the gate while I went east. I spent the few moments before sleep writing a letter to my beloved wife who will find the news hard. Arahad's courior took his note as well as my letter and one from Arathorn. I feel it will be long before any of us see home again.
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Postby Arassuil » Wed Jul 09, 2008 7:10 pm

Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 12th day

Evening grew as I waited by the deserted inn. No sign of Halbaril was seen as night closed around me. Malvil showed silently in the darkness, only giving sign another ranger would know. Se sat and waited, silent in the night. Maybe Halbaril would come by first light.

____________________________________________________________

Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 13th day

Light has come but the sun has yet to rise above the far off Mistys. Halbaril had not shown, but the rest of his hand has. Besides me and Malvil, there was Earundur, Kallidan, Daerol, and Turgan. A fairly seasoned bunch these with Turgan being the youngest having been riding for only 5 years. They had all been out on observation, and were to regroup here this day. Maybe Halbaril would come this day. No matter. If he didn't show in due time, I would lead these men and search where they thought he may be. They had confidence he would turn up, but I myself had a gut feeling something was off, and the clouds I saw gathering in the east before the sunrise spoke of an ill wind. But it is not Halbaril's, for ere mid-day he approached, albeit somewhat worse for wear. We will now meet in the old deserted inn....
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Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Lótessë, 14h day

Postby Arassuil » Sat Feb 07, 2009 4:06 am

We had discovered a keg of untapped ale in the cellar of the inn, and it served as refreshment to those who had come. By evening, all had been discussed pertaining to the darkness that approached. The meet was good, and Arathorn asked many questions of the others. Intriguing, and insightful he was, and as I sat silent listening to him and the others talk, both pride and a forboding filled me. Times were ever darkening, and my time was evermore drawing near. But as I closed my eyes, I could see Arathorn riding forth, engaging battle with the fell wolves of the north and their riders from Carn Dum. Yet this was my time. with my father passing lordship to me, that it should be that I fall before my time? No. My eyes opened to several Rangers taking this time in sharing news and talk of home and loved ones, and what they would do when they find the time ahead when they would not be called to guard the lands. I myself smiled in a stressed sort of way, agreeing with their words and wishes, but deep down, knowing that those days would never come. And as I looked at each one as they talked, I could see in their faces that they too knew that it would not be so.
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Postby Arassuil » Sat Aug 22, 2009 3:18 am

Year 2718 of the Third Age, month of Nárië, 7th day

It is the way of a Ranger ... grimness and foreboding. How any finds time to fall in love and have any sort of home life is beyond me. The Dunedain women are a special sort. They love their man in ways that cannot be put into words. When their men ride forth to watch or seek or battle, they send all their love and remain back, unknowing whether a sword, knife, or arrow will take the life of their man in the field. I guess it is the way of the soldier and their wives. Hoping all will return safely, yet knowing deep down that it may not be so. Will the kiss and the sight of their loved one be the last they will have of them alive? Unknown it is, for the moments passing can bring either grief or joy. I am now Chieftain of the Dunedain. May I lead these men well, and do what is right when I see the moments in need of decision. Hardy we are, suffering much hardship through the years. May we perservere through the years to a better time.

Loëndë, Mid-Years Day, approaches, but for me and twelve others it will only be another day in the wild. How I long for a time of peace and fearless life. But I know the days will be numbered, and only in some distant day in years to come will such a time come. It is why we persevere....
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Postby Arassuil » Sat Oct 31, 2009 7:26 pm

Year 2718, Hísimë, 10th day

The summer has passed into the harvest, and now the weather turns cold. The edge of the Ettenmoors is quiet today, and we have time to sit about a fire and relax. Yet I am un-easy, and our watch has half the men out while the other half rests. Sleep has been short as we try and impede the bands of orcs from passing the plains west. Their activity was high in the short summer nights, but now that the days are short, we find no sign. None for a week. It is why we rest, but we wil not become complacent, for if they are not active today, it only means that they will be moreso in days ahead.

I had not written for some days as when time allowed itself, I took it for sleep. Arandur took an arrow but it was loosed far away and its speed was spent. It tore into his cloak and vest and made him bleed, but no poison was on it and he remained on watch. It was worse for Mardur when a tree branch spanked his horse and it reared. He held to, but his foot was stepped on by the horse, and so he has been riding in pain. He will recover but I fear he will favour that foot the rest of his days.

Thoughts of home warm us, knowing that what we do here keeps home safe, and those of the Shire to the west. Winter I fear will be cold, and we will watch for the white wolves from the north. When spring comes to the North Downs and the melting snows swell the creeks and rivers, we shall return, and meet again in Bree.
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Postby Celebrimbor32 » Fri Nov 06, 2009 3:04 pm

This really is an interesting project you have going here, Arassuil. I would have posted this comment on an OOC thread but it seems that you haven't created one for it. At any rate, doing something like this allows the author to flex his/her creative muscles every once in a while without having to spend large chunks of time thinking up complicated plots and dialogue. I actually thought about doing something like this a few years ago but never got round to it. By all means, continue... :)
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Postby Arassuil » Mon Nov 16, 2009 4:20 pm

No worries. Never thought anyone would bother commenting I guess, and I didn't want to have to keep track of a separate thread. This journal is sort of a first-person tool I'm using as a part of my building of a larger period tale that I hope to post on its own someday. I have used this to quickly capture different thoughts, feelings, and ideas I get (usually at most in-opportune times) pertaining to the story-building, and so beware that I have opened previous posts and added to them. I usually will put up a dateline when I do that, to help me as much as for anyone reading it. It helps me in my building of some plots and dialogue, and I'm hoping that by using a journal-type format as I go, it will be possibly somewhat of interest for others to read, even if it may come across a bit choppy and disjointed.
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Re: Arassuil's Journal

Postby Arassuil » Thu Dec 06, 2012 4:54 pm

Year 2719, Narquelië:, 8th day

It had been a long year, and winter fast approaches. Due to some events, and some carelessness on my part, I ended up losing a book of parchments and writing supplies to a fire. I have lost a years worth of my journals. But now I am resting in Bree, and a cache of supplies I had left at the Prancing Pony some years back was still there. I will be here a few days and hope to try and remember all that has happened for the record. I am also hoping this coming winter will not be like the last, but already the wind is howling and the leaves are flying. I am glad to have a warm room at this fine inn to rest. I am to meet my fellow Rangers Maulissus and Beron and their men at the Forsaken Inn five days from now We will then go to Imladris, for master Elrond wishes to speak with us. Ah, the bread and cheese has arrived, along with a steaming cup of tea. I will pick up the quill again shortly.

The news was ill, for my father Arahad II had taken ill. I now ride to see him.

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