RP51: Y Marchog gan Bodur

[Ciryaher]

*PM to join ~ The story takes place just a few years after Dengen-Goroth became the Dark Lord ~ The title means "The Knights of Bodur", the significance of which will be revealed later*


Elymyssus--whom the locals called Ely--sat idly thinking in his smithy.

It had been a long time since anybody had purchased his blades; living with farmers in a peaceful corner of Cardolan wasn't a very good market for weapons. So, instead, he made horseshoes and plows and tools of every shape and sort. This had been going on for a while, and he was quite tired of the daily rhythm. His grandfather had adventured in Eregion long ago...why should he not have similar adventures?

That was it! He was getting out of here...but he'd need some things. For weeks in advance he forged himself a sturdy set of ringmail, a helmet, a broadsword, and a shield. Now this shield was a marvel in itself; he smelted the family stash of silver trinkets and plated a marvellous sheet of his finest steel with the silver. On it he painted the traditional livery of the land--three stars and two rings upon an azure firmament.

All things were set. His pack and shield on his back, his sword in his belt, and a staff in hand; he set off towards the best starting point he could think of: Bree. Ely stepped boldly out the door of his smithy, locking it behind him, and set off north on the road.

*****************************************

A week later, he found himself in the reknowned Prancing Pony as the stars blazed to life. The proprietor, Baradar Ardworth, greeted him with a humourous joke and led him to a small room in the back of the second floor.

"Will this satisfy you, Master El...Elym...?" Ardworth asked slowly.

"Elymyssus, sir, but I go by Ely," said the smith with a smile, "This will do nicely. I think I'll head for the Commons...I've a mad desire for news!" He gave the innkeeper a down payment of silver and headed down to the smoke-filled, merrily drunk Common Room.

[Talierin]

Kynan Dasarri, a tall young man of about twenty, with an ordinary face, blue eyes, and darkish hair, made his way about the Common Room, serving drinks and food. He'd been doing this ever since he was eight, when his mother, one of the bar girls, had died. Mr. Ardworth had kindly offered to give him a bed and food if he would work at the inn, so he did. It wasn't bad work, but he was getting tired of it. The rowdy drunkards, the fussy rich travellers, the noise, it got to a man after awhile. But he continued, working steadily day in and day out until the day came when he would have enough of his small wages saved up so he could leave Bree and go someplace more interesting, perhaps the great capital city of Arnor.

He was just walking to a table of six men with a round of drinks when Elymyssus walked into the Common Room. He looked up, and the two men's eyes met, and Kynan felt the world lurch and his vision cloud up. The inn seemed to melt and disappear into a vision of himself standing alone in a field, turning all about like he was looking for someone. Then a man carrying a large shield and a sword came running towards him, and he steeled himself for the blow, but none came. Instead the man, his face obscurred by the light reflecting off the shield, stopped and drove the blade into the ground at Kynan's feet, released it, and lowered his shield. Kynan looked up from the sword and saw the man was Elymyssus. Ely gave him a look that said "Take it," so Kynan grasped the hilt and pulled the sword back up out of the ground. Ely nodded with approval, then suddenly the scene changed to one of a lake surrounded by mountains, the Mirrormere. Kynan knew not how he knew it was Mirrormere, but that he just did. A voice came calling clear into his mind, though he felt it was barely a whisper. It said "Dasarri, go, go..." Then the scene of the lake turned black, and Kynan held his breath, for this darkness was oppresive, and the very air felt of wrongness. But this did not last long, for someone touched him on the arm, and he came out of the vision with a start.

"Are ye gonn'r stand there all day staring at that doorway, or are ye gonn'r serve us that ale?" a drunk man with bad breath said to him, waving a hand in Kynan's face.
"Oh, yes, here..." Kynan said absentmindedly, shaken by what he had seen, and set the ale down. Then turning, he walked outside for a bit of fresh air.

[Lorien]

As Kynan walked outside he bumped into someone who gently pushed him backwards and said, "Watch where you're going." Kynan turned to stare at the man who opened the door to the Prancing Pony and went inside. Once inside the man moved over to the bar and Baradar Ardworth yelled, "Hah! If it isn't Ainamelion! Never thought I'd see you again you rogue!" Ainamelion grinned and brushing his golden hair out of his face, hence revealing a startling pair of violet-gray eyes, said, ''Tis been long since I have come here Ardworth! Matters have kept me busy, but no talk of that now, bring me some red wine, tonight I shall relax." Ardworth laughed and slapping Ainamelion on his back moved off to get him his wine. Ainamelion looked languidly about the bar and catching Ely's eye nodded at him. Accepting his wine from Ardworth he stared off into space dreaming.

[Eomer Dinmention]

As Kynan was out side thinking, a tall man, with blonde hair. Who was around the age of 25 was walking near by.
"Well hello Kynan, It is been a long time my friend"
"indeed it has Lotheod, Where have your adventures taken you my friend. It has been a long time since, we use to sit down and have a beer"

"Well Kynan, I've been out of Arnor into the east, I visited many kingdoms and places. I stayed at with cousins. And indeed it has been a long time since we drank together. But I'm going inside, Ardworth would be happy to see me again. We'll have a drink together later my friend"

*Lotheod walked into the bar, and sat down next to a golden hair man. And waited for Ardworth to talk to him, and see if he had remember him

[Mormegil]

Sigthar was a man of some 35 years. He stood tall, with long black hair and green eyes. He was a farmer by birth, his family had grown crops in Arnor, on the outskirts of Bree, for uncountable generations.
But Sigthar was not interested in farming. He wanted away from the boredom and toil of agriculture. His parents had both died within the last 5 years, for they were both middle aged when he was born. As the only child he had been left the farm. But now the farm stood idle and had fallen into disrepair. And Sigthar spent most of his day in the Prancing Pony, drinking and gambling, and looking for a route out of his life.

Today was one such day, Sigthar had spent all day at the Inn, drinking steadily and playing cards. He had gotten fairly drunk, but had won a fair bit of money and was feeling rather good for himself. Not a bad day, better than working in the fields.
Sigthar was just having a last drink, and thinking about going home when the bar seemed to come to life. In particular one person caught his eye, a figure with golden hair, who the bartender had called Ainamelion. He felt that he knew this man, but couldn't place where from. The name didn't ring a bell in his mind.

Sigthar decided to sit in the Inn a whiile longer and see if he could find anything else out about this man. Taking a swig of his drink he sat back and began to watch the events in the Inn with a keen interest.

[Eomer Dinmention]

*After the golden hair man was finished talking to Ardworth Lotheod yelled "Yo Ardworth my friend, guess whos back?"

"Why its old Lotheod, my friend how are you, Wow its being what at least a year since I've seen you, and you've grown quite alot. I can remember when your father Leothed took you down here when you were young. Wow you have grown. What do you want to drink?"

"Well I don't think I've grown that much, Hmm just get me a beer. Hey Ardworth who is that golden hair man that you were talking to?"

*Ardworth gets the beer
"Well, that man over there is Ainamelion, he is an old friend of mine"

"Ainamelion what a strange name, why is it that all of the times I've spent here, I've never seen him before?"

"Well, he is a busy man, or thats what he tells me. But its probably chance that you never seen him"

"OK then Ardworth, well its good to see you again. I think I'll stay here for the night, me and Kynan have some business to catch up on"

"Of course"

*Lotheod, walks pass Ainamelion looking at him with suspicious, he goes into the corner and drinks his beer

[Lorien]

As Ainamelion drank his wine he could feel the gaze of people on him. He saw Lotheod's face as he passed him by and had heard his name too as he talked to Ardworth. Ainamelion could feel Sigthar's gaze on him still and turning in his seat he turned to look at Sigthar. Ainamelion's hair covered half of his face and as he fixed his eyes upon him, Sigthar started for the gray in Ainamelion's eye washed away like fog and compressed into a thin band while the violet became all the more prominent. Sigthar broke out of his trance like state when Ainamelion smiled and tipped his glass at him. Ardworth passed him and Ainamelion grabbed him by his shoulder and said, "I'll stay here for a few nights maybe Ardworth. And find out who that man is for me, that dark-haired green-eyed one."

[Kementari]

Tindomel was tall, with dark hair and brown eyes. She was born in a tiny sea coast village in Earhwesta. Her mother came from the southern kingdom of Gondor and had been well off before she married her father. She taught her to read and write, and Tindomel had always spent her time reading and daydreaming about exctiting places where she'd rather be. She was always considered an odd girl, and was shunned by most of the village people, including her father, who had never had any sort of schooling and seemed to all have one track minds that thought only of fishing and trading.
When she was 8 her mother dissapeared, and she was left with her angry father who lost all the sanity he had ever had (which wasn't a whole lot) when her mother left.
By the time she was 16 she couldn't stand another minute in that place. Knowing she wouldn't be too sorely missed, she took some money and supplies, and her two most prized belongings (her tatered copy of the Red Book, and a silver necklace with a clear sea coloured stone), and rode out of the village one night and never came back.

************

Now through several months traveling Tindomel had traveled most of the way up the Green way to Bree.
She felt quiet safe and at home here for she had read about it many times. She found the Prancing Poney inn, checked in, and personaly took her horse, Lindir, to the stable because he wouldn't let anyone else near him.
She went back to the inn and towards her room, but she wandered off in a different direction being very attracted to the Common room.Though there was clouds of smoke billowing out of the door, there was pleasant music playing, and she peaked through the door. Seeing what she was sure was a halfling, she stifled a screach and burst in. There happened to be quiet a few hobbits around, so she happily took a seat and looked around. Suddenly she caught Ely's eyes. She quickly turned away, but had difficulty diverting her attention elsewheres..

[Ciryaher]

Elymyssus nodded and waved his hand to the table of drunks that had greeted him as Lord of the Poker Chips and sat down near the fireplace. He saw the two that were referred to as Lotheod and Ainamelion at the bar, and noticed a homely man sitting at one of the tables.

He rested his sword against the wall and leaned back, running his fingers through his gray hair. Odd how that Kynan fellow had simply looked at him and ran off.

A girl entered the room, took one look at him, and turned away. Very strange he thought to himself. He scratched his chin and peered slowly around the room, listening in on the conversations of interest.

[Talierin]

Kynan sat outside under a nearby tree for a bit, thinking over what he had seen, and then passing a hand over his eyes, got up and walked back to the inn. It wasn't the first time he'd seen a vision, and he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last.

Inside the inn the air seemed more subdued, and not as noisy. Odd, for the Prancing Pony. Only very late at night was it ever very quiet. He wondered if it had something to do with the man who's face had given him the vision. Shaking his head, he returned to work.

[Lorien]

Ainamelion finished drinking his wine and signalled to Ardworth for another glass. As Kynan bought him his wine Ainamelion muttered his thanks and Ardworth sidled up to him. "That person you were inquiring about. His name is Sigthar. Beyond that I couldn't get anything else. He's been here a bit, drinks and gambles a lot too." Ainamelion looked pointedly at Sigthar and said, "Thanks Ardworth. I owe you." After a few minutes Ainamelion suddenly got up and walked over to the table where Ely was sitting. As he reached the table he asked, "Mind if I join you?"

[Ciryaher]

Ely gestured to an open seat, "Indeed you may...Ainamelion...is that right?"

He put out his hand, "I am Elymyssus Bodur, honored to meet you, indeed."

The elf took Ely's hand and shook it firmly before sitting down. "Mae Govannen! I am Ainamelion, yes," he adjusted his seat, "Where do you come from, Master Bodur, and what are you doing here in this town of Bree?"

Bodur thought for a moment stroking the top of his shield mindlessly, "I am from a village in northern Cardolan...not too far from here, actually. I am here on a mission, of sorts." At this he paused and scanned the room, then spoke in a whisper, "I had a dream, as I traveled here. I was camped just off the Greenway...'twas a beautiful night, indeed. Anyways, in the dream, I saw forested hills rushing beneath me, and two rivers. There were larger hills, and then I was in a great, stony hall. There sat a king of stone, so it seemed...I knew I had to destroy him, but the dream ended before I could. I think it was a sign...a signal--for a quest." His voice had risen slightly in the telling, he now noted.

[Adrastea]

"Damina, remember that you must go into Bree with Muri and the wagon to pick up a barrel of beer tomorrow." Her father told her when she headed of to her bedroom to sleep. "I will not forget father" she answered.
The next day Damina went to bree with her pony Muri and the family wagon. She collected father's beer from Ardworth, and went home again. But there was an unexpected surprise when she reached home. The air was filled with smoke; she saw people huddled around her house. She dropped Muri reigns and ran to see what had happened. She pushed herself to the front of the crowd. She saw her parent's remains lying on the side of the road, they had been burnt to death "No, No, who did this" she cried!

************************************

Damina was disturbed from her book that she was reading in the common room of the Prancing Pony Inn. She looked around and saw the new arrivals. That is what must have disturbed me, the arrival of these travelers she thought. But then she noticed that they had already settle in, so they must have arrived quite a fair while ago. She couldn't quite care less though, travelers always seemed strange, she was used to their peculiar way. For she had been staying at the Prancing Pony since her parents died and that was 6 months ago.
She changed her position in her seat and started reading again. But 2 minutes later she looked up. Something had disturbed her again, she normally could read non stop and ignore noises when she read. But only quiet talk was going on. But then she noticed the new travelers were glancing at each other. That was it, the room was filled with uneasiness. That was not normal for the Prancing pony, normally there would be a sense that everyone is welcome.
She noticed that hair was dangling in front of her face. She moved it to behind her ear, you could now see her face. It was a face of a young women around about the age of 23, with brown eyes and black shoulder length hair.
She glanced around once more and then started to read again.

[Lorien]

Ainamelion listened attentively and after Bodur had finished speaking he sat quitely twirling his wine glass. Suddenly Ainamelion spoke, "A sign for a quest you say? Maybe 'tis fate that has brought so many here? Do you not feel something in this place this night? An uneasiness if you will. If you will go on your quest and if you will allow me, I will join you.

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod, walked pass the elf, and the other man he was talking to. As he walked pass, he heard the words "sign...a signal--for a quest"
*He thought to himself, "There are alot of strangers here these days, many are on adventures. It has been a while since I was in a good adventure"

*He then walked to the corner and sat a couple of meters from a ladie reading a book

[Kementari]

Tindomel just had to hear the word "quest" and her heart started beating incredibly fast. Her glance shot right back to Ely and the (rather striking) elf now sitting with him. I knew it, i knew there was somthing about him the moment i saw him she thought. Mel bit her lip. An adventure was exactly what she was searching for. Surely he was looking for companions, but hed never let a ridicules young woman come along with him.. She didn't have a hole lot to offer...but she had some skill in healing and survival and she could wield a dagger or a bow at need ..and she had absoutly nothing to loose.
She rose from her seat and moved towards Ely Bodurs table, then she spoke up shyly but sternly. "You say you have had a signal for a quest. I believe that these callings should not be ignored. Aman noldoi, perhaps you could be chosen by our West Lords to change the fate of our world.
If you decide to venture on your quest, i wish to come with you, if you allow me..whatever be our fate. I do not fear either torture nor death"

[Mormegil]

Sigthar watched the other people in the Inn with interest. Ainamelion had walked over to a table and started to talk to a man, and then they were joined by a woman.
This looked interesting, so Sigthar leaned a little towards the group, trying to hear the conversation. He gathered that they were talking about some sort of quest, but couldn't quite make everything out. So he tried to lean a little further, but as he did he overbalanced on his stool and fell to the floor, making most people in the Inn turned to look at him.
Most of the regulars upon seeing Sigthar lying on the floor gave a laugh and returned to their drinks, "It's just that drunk Sigthar falling over again".
But the new arrivals continued to look at him, and as he began to get up, he saw the group of people on Ely Bodurs table were staring at him. Sigthar stood up and began to brush himself off, then he looked at them and said, "Hi, my name's Sigthar, I couldn't help overhearing about some sort of quest. Could I join you?"

[Talierin]

Kynan was just serving Ely and Ainamelion drinks when they started speaking about the quest, not noticing he hadn't left them after setting the ale down. As they spoke, he heard the voice in his head again, saying "Dasarri, go... go..." He stood there blinking for a bit, until a woman and another man joined the two men, all asking to join the quest. Ely looked up from them for a minute and saw him just standing there looking dumbfounded, and asked him what was the matter. Kynan returned to himself, and answered. "When you first walked into here a few minutes ago, our eyes met, and I had a vision..." he went on to explain what he had seen, "Well sir, just now I heard that voice again telling me to go, and I think it means I am to join your on your quest, so may I?"

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod, watches as he sits in the corner. He thinks to himself
"Whats going on over there, that elf, and the other man. Many more men and women are over there talking. What is going on. I think I will wait until I introduce myself"

*Lotheod stays there watching their every move

[Lorien]

As the others approached their table Ainamelion couldn't help uttering a laugh. The people at the table looked at him strangely and he said, "Oh, don't mind me, just something very funny and fatalistic about all of this." He got up from the table and went to Ardworth and talked to him for a few minutes. Ardworth kept shaking his head and the others at the table could see that he was vehemently trying to refuse Ainamelion something. But Ainamelion laid his hand on Ardworth's shoulder and then they both went off to a basement. After a few minutes Ainamelion came back carrying a sack and holding two bottles of wine. Setting the bottles down on the table he said, "I had to convince that guy to give me his best vintage, haven't had one of these in a long while and this seemed like a proper occassion." Ainamelion set some glasses on the table and said, "Help yourselves." He opened a bottle and filling his glass leaned back in his seat.

[Ciryaher]

Elymyssus filled the glasses of those near him and passed the bottle on, then raised his glass in the air. "I see that there is more here at work than simple coincidence. 'Twas fate, or the actions of the Valar themselves that brought us together, I think. Regardless, I invite all here with the courage to undertake this mysterious quest to come with me."

He raised his glass higher and gave a toast, "To the band of heroes...the...the Knights of Bodur! May we prove triumphant over whatever comes our way!"

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod watches the people raise there glasses.
He then gets up and sits next to Damina

"Hey Damina, long time no see, right? I heard about your parents, I mourned for them while i was in Rohan. Did you get my flowers I sent you?"

*Lotheod continues to talk to Damina. He then gets up
"excuse me Damina, I have an adventure to join"

*Lotheod walks to the crowd. He then bows down

"Greetings, I am Lotheod, son of Leothod. Not to be rude, though when I walked pass, I heard you speak about an adventure. Throughout my journies, I've had many adventures, though none of them were ever good. I ask you if, I may join your adventure? I might die, or might not. But i have nothing to lose"

[Adrastea]

Did she know this man who talked to her. He claimed to be Lotheod. The only Lethoed she new was a boy she used to play with when she was little. Could it be the same person. They talked for awhile and she realised it was him. She really liked this man, she liked how his hair fell on his face, the way he acted friendly and calm.

She was about to ask him about were has has been for the last few years. But he got in first and said something about going to go and join an adventure. What silly nonsonse, just out of know where going on adventure. Not planning anything, just racing off. "Idoits" she mutteres under her breath.

As Lotheod leaves and goes and talks with the "idiots", her mind wonders to her future. She couldn't live in the prancing pony forever, and what about money, she would need to get some work too. This wasn't the plan. Her parents said that she would stay with them intill she'd marry a man and he would work every day and she would cook and clean. What was she suppose to do now. She wasn't in the mood to worry now anyway.
She walked up to the counter and ordered a beer and sat down on the bar chair.

[Dengen-Goroth]

A man entered the inn moments after a flurry of murmurs flew from the word quest. He was tall, cloaked in a great black weather-worn cape which he furled about him, with brown eyes. There were protrusions neath the cape, signifying the armor and weapons he had neath. His black hair and beard were streaked with gray, as he was now not the youngest of those present. Quietly, barely noted, he slipped into a chair and began to down a flagon of mead which appeared before him prior to any noticing from whence it had come or how it had arrived there.

[Ciryaher]

Ely emptied his glass slowly, then set it down. From a leather pouch at his side, he produced a paper map and spread it out on the table. Clearly marked was the Shire, Breeland, and most of the lands between all the way over to Rivendell.

"You see, I propose that we journey here, my friends," he put his finger on Bree and traced it over to the Fords of Bruinen, then north to a hilly, forested area known as the Ettensmoors. "'Tis a little known place, and I am sure there is something there that we are compelled to seek out."

Bodur looked up and around at all present, "What do you all have to say, my friends?"

[Aerin]

Morlung muttered a curse as she tripped over another tree root in the darkening forest. She knew where she was headed, but regretted her earlier decision to take the shorter route through the woods.

Stopping by a small creek, she knelt and cupped her hands under the water. Her small, delicate hands, which had unburdened many a lord or lady of their purse, seemed to glow under the surface of the running stream. After she had washed the dust from her face, she considered her reflection in the rising moonlight.
Her skin was pale and seemed nearly transparent in the fading light; her hair was almost too light to be blonde and tied up in a tangled mess behind her head. Her eyes were too big for her face and as colorless as rain.

She stood and resumed her course, her brown cloak helping disguise her in the leafy trees. Anyone who ever saw her hardly remembered her: there was nothing remarkable or outstanding about her. Nothing about her caught the eye; she was nearly invisible, and she was glad, for she preferred not to be seen. Her trade was not one where being remembered was an advantage. Even the few who had noticed her had soon either forgotten her or put her out of mind; she was not worth the time it took to memorize her features.

Her steps slowed as she gradually came out of the forest and into an inhabited town. Morlung’s eyes did not miss anything that went on in the streets. Richer folk did not notice when a few coins went missing from their purse as they walked on by, intent on their own business.

A larger inn, by name of the Prancing Pony, seemed a likely place to discreetly dispose of the lifted coin. Not a soul noticed as the small girl slipped into the common room and ordered a drink from the barkeep’s help. Sitting at a small table by the fire, Morlung’s sharp ears picked out a thread of conversation about a journey.
After sizing up the proposed members of the journey, her mind idly toyed with the notion of helping their trip by lightening their loads.
As she planned, she leaned back into her cloak so its shadow fell over her face and sipped at her drink.

[Talierin]

"Anywhere but here is fine by me!" Kynan said, sipping at his ale, "I'm sure I can convince Ardworth to give us supplies at a lower cost, if you would like..."

[Eomer Dinmention]

"I will go with you, Though I await your approval"

[Kementari]

"The less known about a place the better.. in my opinion" said Tindomel, studying the map intently

[Adrastea]

As Damina sat at the bar, she over heard the man that Lotheod went over to before, talking about going to a place called Ettensmoors for their idiot quest. Where the was that?? He said something that is was north. Forsome reason she quickly glanced at the map that was laid out on the table, she saw him pointing at a little name much north and east of Bree. Why would anyone want to go to somewhere where there is probably no good beer and a nearly deserted place. She then noticed all the other places on the map. Her eyes grew wide with admazement. "I never knew the world was so big" she muttered under her breath.

[Ciryaher]

Elymyssus nodded, "Then tomorrow we shall set out! Get thy things together, friends, for tomorrow at cockcrow, we depart!"

Rolling up the map, he stepped away from the table and inserted it into a tube on his belt. With a bow, he put some coins out for the barkeep and then headed to his room straightaway. He put the last of the biscuits and dry fruit in his pack and set it near his bed with an oaken stave.

At last, Bodur settled into his bed and dropped into a deep slumber. His dreams were filled with images of a stony king; fierce in the sunlight.

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod, steps away, and too leaves a couple of coins.

He then takes his gear and heads to his room, where he begins to pack

[Aerin]

Morlung's hooded eyes tracked the paths all the occupants of the inn took. One man in particular caught at her attention. He was sitting at a table alone, drinking as he scanned the crowd surreptitiously. Concluding he was not yet drunk enough to let his level of attentiveness down, she discarded him, for the moment, as a victim.

She slowly stretched her fingers, unbending them from where they lay curled around the hilt of one of her daggers, limbering them for the work they itched to complete. She judged each patron of the Prancing Pony as to how much they might carry in coin and how risky they could prove. Her eyes flicked to the one who seemed to be the leader of the expedition that would set out on the next day. She counted the coins left on the table - not enough to be worth her while to take - and considered the map he had laid out on the table. That would certainly be worth something to the right buyer....

With a small twist to her face that might once have been a smile on a young girl in a different time and place, she slipped off her chair and melted into the shadows as she got out of the inn. Breathing the night air, she allowed herself to think of the expression on the bartender's assistant as he found an empty mug on a corner table, wondering when he had forgotten it, for he certainly would have remembered if he had served someone in that corner.

There was a certain wry humour in the way people did not see her. Instead of remembering a small figure, or a quickly moving shadow, most ignored anything she did, prefering to take the blame on themselves for the misplaced coins or trinkets, rather than dealing with the uncomfortable feeling that they did not know just what had happened. The feeling something they could not see had taken what they thought was well-guarded left them with the anxiety and worry of what else that mysterious persona could do - or had someone been there at all...?

[Lorien]

Ainamelion continued sitting at the table while the others left. Sipping his glass he still continued scanning the room. He thought he saw someone looking at him from across the room but dismissed that thought to the slight nervousness he always experienced before starting off on an adventure. Sighing to himself he got up from the table and leaving some money walked out into the night. Walking around aimlessly outside the Prancing Pony he saw a shaded tree and reaching it leaned against it and closed his eyes as if meditating.

[Dengen-Goroth]

The man continued to drink, till his sight became near blurred.
"Bar tender, get o'er herea. I wanta ale now!" He had a tendency to add a's when he was incapacitated by the sweet liquor which was his only salvation. Yet this time it was not so much that he was in a realm of his own making, but that he simply intended to be perceived as such. In fact he had listened intently to every word that the apparent leader of the expedition had spoken, till he felt the first effects of the mead. Though soon his thirst for escape and release would be quenched, the thirst for adventure and curiosity would remain livid amidst the backdrop of drunken reveries.

[Ciryaher]

The sky was becoming grey, and the land was in the stillness of the pre-dawn twilight. Waking with a series of yawns and groans, he rolled out of the bed onto the floor (with a rather loud noise). Staggering to his feet, he readied himself for the day with a splash of icy water (and a lot of puffing). Quickly putting on his armour and weapon, he hoisted his pack on one shoulder and opened the door.

He strode down the long hall and into the Commons Room, which was quite deserted at this hour. He filled his carved, cherry pipe and smoked in silence while waiting for whomever wished to travel to arrive.

[Eomer Dinmention]

*A little ray of sun, shines through the curtains, which wakes up Lotheod. As he yawns and groans he accidently falls ouf of bed, hitting his head.

"AAh dam bed"
He put on his armor and gear on. He then wore a dark silver cloak, to cover his whole body.

He then walks down stairs stumbling down, he gets up, and gets some breakfast.

[Mormegil]

Sigthar woke before dawn, and prepared himself to leave his run down farm. He was glad that he would be finally leaving his boring non-existence of a life, and going off on an adventure.

He collected up the things he thought he might need on an adventure, an old shield and sword which had belonged to his father, a leather pouch which he put some money into and tied to his belt, a black cloak and some leather armor.
Then he checked over the farm, there were no animals on the farm anymore, so Sigthar didn't need anyone to look after the farm for him whilst he was gone, (and nor would anyone want to if he asked them).

Sigthar locked the door to his house, and made his way into Bree. Ariving at the Prancing Pony not long after Elymyssus entered the Commons Room.
Sigthar entered the room and took a seat next to Elymyssus. waiting for othetrs to arrive.

[Talierin]

Kynan didn't sleep a wink that night, for his visions came over and over throughout the night. In the morning, he rose and quickly gathered his few belongings, then went to find Ely.

[Kementari]

Tindomel had stayed up long into the night, thinking about the what could come to pass in the days ahead.
She woke suddenly and saw the sun shining warmly through a space in the curtians. She quickly yanked them back and saw that the sun was already quite high in the sky and there were many people up and walking about in the garden below her window.
How could she sleep in on a day like this? what if they left without her? Muttering she quickly dressed and got her few belongings together, and hurried out of her room and down the stairs to the common room, hoping to find Ely.

[Lorien]

Ainamelion strode into the common room of the Prancing Pony. As he passed the bar Ardworth came out asking, "Ainamelion! What happened? I came to see you this morning and your room was not even opened!" Ainamelion grinned wanly and said, "Didn't go to my room last night Ardworth. Theres nothing to worry about, could you just get me some very strong coffee please?" Ardworth mumbling something unintelligible walked off and Ainamelion joined Ely and Sigthar at the table nodding a good morning to them.

[Ciryaher]

Ely smiled, "My friends, we shall depart soon. First, let me warn ye all: this could very well prove to be fatal...perhaps not a one of us will return. Come only...ONLY if you are willing to accept that knowledge."

He stood and looked at all present, searching their eyes as he stood near the door. "Alright, then! Let us depart. Your coffee will have to be on the go, Ainamelion!" Ely said and swung wide the wooden doors of the Prancing Pony Inn. With a deep inhale, he drank the fresh, morning air and tapped his stave on the ground thrice.

"Let's be on our way, then," he decided cheerily and walked bravely down the street to the village's south gate. An old man sat before the gate. Elymyssus bowed, "Greetings, Old Man of the Gate! I would ask you for permission to pass by, and hope that you would grant it!"

The Old Man looked up and made a sign with his hands. In a raspy voice he spoke, "Find you first the crystal key; in the downs of dead it be; find it you must, ere the Stony King ye see!"

Bodur attempted to speak, but the man was gone and the gate swung open. "Strange..." he muttered, looking at the others.

[Aerin]

Stretching out a stiff back, Morlung stood and walked near the edge of the forest. Soon, she promised herself, she would have enough coin to take a room for the night in a comfortable inn where she could sleep in a real bed, not one made of twigs and small rocks.

When she heard voices, she quickly scaled a nearby tree and peered down from betwixt the leafy branches.
A motley group was assembling a short distance away; the man with the map was obviously the leader, while another seemed almost partly unwilling to be leaving. The others were in different states as they gathered around; some where young and looked as if they thirsted for adventure, while others looked world-weary, yet determined.
The reasons prompting their leaving were as varied as the snowflakes that fell in the deep of winter, yet she idly allowed her mind to play with what their motives could be.

When the old man at the gate spoke, Morlung's sharp ears picked up his seemingly nonsensical riddle.
What could that dottering old fool possibly mean? she wondered for a moment, but put the thought aside. There were more important, and profitable, pickings to be had.

As the group passed by beneath her, she waited in the tree until they were out of any range of hearing and climbed out of her perch. Quietly making her way along the path they took, she melted into the forest as she silently traced their steps.

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod follows the group.
"Before we leave, I think i should introduce myself, to all those who don't know me, which i think is everyone lol. I am Lotheod son of Leothed. I grew up in the inn, Adworth looked after me, after my father died. I am very eager to start this journey, I know the risks, And I don't really care if i die, for i have nothing to lose.

[Morwen]

She glided through the miasma of green willow boughs, the long lengths of her cleric cloak wavering between the cavernous darkness of her mind and the subtle peace she felt as she passed through the forest of her home. A black-gloved arm lifted from her side and felt the light caress of the oak leaves as she passed fluidly along...

Abruptly, and without warning to the wind, she paused as the field of the forest yield to the desert of a canyon...

She stood on an outcropping, her cloak grasping wildly for a dream that lay on the opposite rim. A smiled bloomed on hard lips and her hand grasped the slim scimitar hidden amongst the folds of her black garments. Pulling it from the sheath she held it before her horizontally, staring intently at the opposite rim of the vast canyon. Thunder rumbled behind her as the crimson sky parted for the black tempest.

"The Mien of twilght! bear me across this fathomless canyon so that my will, in part darkened with woes, be done!" intoned the dark one, taking a final look behind her at the emerald rays of the oaks and dark stems of the pines.

[Ciryaher]

Bodur stood and thought out loud, "Downs of dead...I don't recall a Deadman's Down...is it Deadman's Dike? Anyone shed some light on this mysterious verse?"

[Kementari]

"The downs of the dead.." said Tindomel, and she shivered as she felt a cold chill go through her. She was fairly sure of the place the man spoke of, she had heard of it writin in the Red Book. "Perhaps he means the downs just south west of here, tis said that there the kings of ancient Arnor who faught in the wars of Angmar were burried, but it is now a haunted, evil place."

[Ciryaher]

Ely scratched his greying beard and raised a finger. "Ahh! How observant and wise of you, Tindomel, my dear! Barrow-downs, of course!" he paused and looked troubled to some degree, "Barrow-downs...that is a most evil place...we must take all care when journeying there...are we all ready, my friends?"

[Talierin]

Everyone nodded or quietly called out that they were ready, for it was still early, and the mention of the Barrow Downs brought a sense of dread into their hearts. But the mood lightened as they walked around Bree's wall to reach the Greenway, for the sun was climbing the sky, and the world seemed fresh, and new, as morning often made it. Once on the Greenway, they walked north until they hit the Great East Road, and turning west, did not stop till noon, for lunch. By early evening, they had reached the place where many, many years earlier Tom Bombadil had left 4 hobbits and their ponies.

[Aerin]

Morlung spent the day silently tracking their footsteps as they set off toward the Barrow-downs.
The dead had never bothered her; she had been raised watching from hidden corners as men and women's throats were slit and their lifeless bodies dumped in creeks or behind bushes. She had never really paused to watch the thick blood slowly trickle out of the mortal wounds, or waited to see the maggots and other small scavengers begin their gruesome work on the bloated corpses.
Hardened as she was about the dead, the tales of the Barrow-downs and its inhabitants had never alarmed her. She had never gone close enough to prove or disprove those tales, but only because wealthy patrons were rather scarce where folktales had turned the ground into an unhealthy venture.

As the small company walked nearer the Barrow-downs, delicate fingers of mist began creeping around bushes and trees. Slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, the mist became an all-enveloping fog. Whether the fog was natural or no, none could say.
Everyone in the group huddled close together, not only to keep within sight, but also for the small sense of comfort it offered.

A high pitched shriek in the distance made all freeze with fear, Morlung no exception. The silence after the terrible shriek was even worse. It was a silence that encompassed all the senses: not a soul could see or hear a thing.

Within the stillness of the forest, Morlung stood, not paralyzed, but unwilling to move.
What devilish prank is this? she wondered, her usual calm, self-possession rapidly vanishing.

[Morwen]

A cloaked head lifted abruptly from its tiresome inspection of the surrounding foliage. Intelligent blue eyes peered from under a mask of darkness and made an articulate assumption as to the whereabouts of the shriek. Mmm...the barrowdowns... She slid tranquilly along the crags until sure footing brought her a quicker gait. She peered intently with eyes of emerald towards the shore of her destination.

[Ciryaher]

Ely looked warily down the misty path leading into the Barrowdowns, but he felt the warmth of the hilt of his sword, and he straightened himself up. "Friends, we will continue into the Barrowdowns. We must keep a sharp eye out for anything that may tell us where this key is, and keep our spirits high. The Wights will not welcome us, so we me be ready for them to take us when we are down. Come!" he said, beckoning them, and stepped off down the south bank of the roadway and crossed through the line of trees.

The fog became dense around them, but the path remained clear, and Bodur leading the way cut a path through the fog with his mere approach.

[Talierin]

The fog was all about them, and Kynan's spirits began to fall as they walked on. After what seemed half the day, he was beginning to see things out of the corner of his eyes, and that made him all the more afraid.

[Mormegil]

Sigthar was also beginning to feel afraid, for he did not like the fog and felt as if he could feel it's icy fingers tightening around his neck, trying to strangle him.
He followed the others, through the fog, wondering what they might be looking for. It seemed unlikely that they would find it in this thick fog, but he kept his eyes open and looked continuously around for anything that might grab his attention.

[Adrastea]

Damina slept with uncomfortable thoughts that night, as soon as she laid her eyes upon the map that the traveler showed the group, her mind has been filled with amazing thoughts. She now understood why people would go of to strange lands and trudge through mud lakes to go somewhere that no one has ever been before. She desperately wanted to go with Lotheod and the group to this place Ettensmoors. So she decided to go with them. She woke up in the morning and joined the party and and left heading towards the land called Barrowdowns.

**************************

Damina was passing through the fog of Barrowdowns with her fellow companions. She felt them shudder every few minutes, their hearts seemed to be chocked with fog. The journey didn't seem so fun anymore. But she remembered as soon as she started traveling that morning she knew that she wanted to go to every place in Middle Earth and there was going to worse places than this. She didn't care that everyone else seemed cold hearted in this place, she didn't know danger so she wasn't scared of it. She was given a short sword by Lothoed at the start of the journey, she kept it under her belt but she thought what thing was so big and powerful that she was going to need to use a sword to win. She didn't believe in using weapons to win.

[Lorien]

Ainamelion involuntarily shuddered as the company walked through the barrow-downs. He had been here once before and the memories of what had happened last time still had quite a strong hold on him. Mentally Ainamelion gave himself a strong slap and said to himself, 'Don't let yourself be weak you fool.' As he walked forward he heard a noise above his head and jerking his head up suddenly while walking caused him to lose his balance and stumbling over a root he fell to the ground holding his ankle.

[Aerin]

One of the shadows and shapes that flitted in and out of the corners of the groups eyes was the slight figure of Morlung. Melting into the background, she silently wound her way ever nearer the group.

Her long, thing fingers caressed the hilt of her dagger, waiting for a chance to ply their trade. Her sharp eyes scanned hungrily through the elusive wisps of mist, watching and waiting for an opportunity to spring.

Morlung's chance came more quickly than she expected. The man - with eyes almost as startling as Morlung's own - tripped over an outstretched root. Utterly devoid of passion, she watched as he grasped his ankle in pain.
This was better than she could have hoped for, if she knew what hope was.

Quickly concealing herself behind a rock not far from where the man lay fallen, she slid out, smoothly as a snake, to cut the strings of his purse. Her dagger was in her hand, poised to delicately remove the burden of his monies, when a blood-curling shriek erupted from nearby.

The cry was so cold, so forlorn, so passionate, that even Morlung froze to listen to it gradually echo and die away.

[Ciryaher]

Elymyssus Bodur saw the stone lid rising slowly, and felt the terror rising within him. He wanted to know if the others saw the same, but his voice was lost. A bony hand could be seen lifting the slab, until it was rolled off onto the ground with a heavy thud.

Figures began to emerge from the hole, cold mail clinking in the heavy silence. Their forms became obvious; twelve skeletons stood, their frames covered with helms and chainmail; their hands holding shields and pale swords. Where their empty eye sockets should have simply been empty, they were replaced with a black void--terrible beyond imagination to behold. Behind them rose another figure...this one was like an animated corpse, however, its flesh like a mesh about it, not covering the demonic sinews beneath. It was a Barrow-Wight, and its voice came like frigid mist from the earth:

Lord of the living
Meets the King of the Night
Death he is giving
And the death by soul's fright

The skeletons held their swords before them and answered:

Pale blade bites;
Warm flesh pales;
Cold metal smites;
Weak mind frails;
Dark soul delights;
West-hope quails

[Eomer Dinmention]

*Lotheod noticed Damina join.
"So you decided to join Damina, very good of you."
*Lotheod looked closely at the walls
He heard noices, he felt scared. His eyes were wide open trying to spot anything that came his way. He smelled something in the air. It was a foul smell, which made him even more frightened
"I don't like this place, it gives me the creeps. They said that this place, The Barrow Downs, were an ancient burial grounds for the Kings of Men, that were made in the First Age of the Sun. I say nay, I don't believe it. My father said that it wasn't true, and that people just make up stories to scare little children"

*Lotheod held Damina's hand while the other hand is on his sword.

They followed the rest of the group, Lotheod saw Elymyssus staring a skeleton. He wondered what he was looking at. Elymyssus was a strange person to Lotheod, Lotheod had never seen anyone like him, so mysterious.

[Morwen]

The mist--the mist clings as in death. The mist folded and parted, it's barrier convoluted into a maze of uncertainty. Uncertainty always leads to death-- Intuitive brown eyes gleamed from under a flow of green moss, the wind blew cold and harsh.
Why did they not run? Certainly they are mixed in a bout of such quandary that they know not what actions to take? Time will not always stand stolid for them.
"Be it my impatience or the mist about me-- surrounding me-- I shall go forth", intoned a harsh voice, devoid of emotion.

[Ciryaher]

The undead frames of the once-living began to march slowly forward with a wordless command from their Wight lord.

Elymyssus backed up a few steps and drew his great, two-handed sword and wore a stern expression. There was a shadow on his heart, indeed; but by some strange chance or through the trace of royal blood in his veins, he did not fall into terror. Holding his sword at the ready over his shoulder, he prepared to deal a mighty blow. His apparent fearlessness eased the terror creeping upon the others.

He defiantly shouted, "Fallen and broken of the Ancient! Thy cold and bonéd hands shall grasp aught but the misty air, and all of thy servants cast into the Void whence thou hast come!" The words seemed to come from deep within...were one of his customers or neighbors to hear him, they would have thought him possessed. But nay, the fiery spirit of the Clan Bodur was stirring within his veins, and it gave him the strength of body and mind of his ancestors.

The skeletons leapt forward as the wight raised its hand. Elymyssus swung his sword and clove a fiend to shattered pieces, then raised his buckler to deflect a blow. Other skeletons advanced on the others, their pale swords raised to strike.

[Aerin]

Seeing the dead rise up from their resting places sent chills through Morlung and made her heart icy with terror. Forgetting about the purse she was about to steal, she turned away and started to sneak away.
She started to run, but tripped and lay sprawled out on the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she took flight again into the thick mist... straight into the embrace of one of the walking dead.

Feeling its bony hands clamp tightly around her arms, its clothes hanging limply on its frame, she began to struggle. Not until they stood on the edge of one of the barrows did she realize the corpse's intent. Seeing the dark edges of the burial mound loom in the near darkness, she let out a bloodcurling shriek as the skeleton began to descend with her.

[Ciryaher]

Bodur heard the scream and roared, "Lotheod! Ainamelion! Seek the owner of that voice at once! 'Twas a cry of distress or I'm an orc!"

He swung his blade and shattered the skull of another skeleton, but was almost instanltly clobbered in the back with the flat of one of the long swords.

[Kementari]

One of skeleton creatures came towards Tindomel; she drew her short sword and stood her ground. A red gleam shone from within the black empty socets of its eyes and it swung its sword aiming dircetly for her neck. She swerved aside just at the right moment, and jabed her sword at the creatures sword hand. Its wrist snapped and its sword dropped to the ground, but it was of no great avail, and it immediatly sprung at her. It grasped her tightly with the boney fingers of its one remaining hand around her neck; it spoke breathlessly into her ear "Come, you need not struggle, we will take you to rest, and all your troubles will be left aside". "No" she cried her hand still holding her sword, she restled her self partly free from its cold grip and swung her sword with such a strength as she never knew exsisted within herself, shattering its ribs and breaking its spine with a loud snap. It was lifeless once again but as it fell its fingers had driven deeply into her shoulder and witch now bled.
Tindomel stood a moment catching her breath, and looking at her foe. Then she turned and ran to assist Bodur.

[Dengen-Goroth]

The man was gripped by fear as he saw the horrid creatures of what he had thought to be but myth. His trembling hand quickly dove into a leather satchel to retreive a small container of mead but failed to grasp it. He stood from where he was kneeling to run but only managed to trip and fall cascading down a hill, flying directly towards the group.

[Adrastea]

She just stood there, Damina was terrified. Her eyes where fixed to these living skeletons.Terror filled her body at the sight. She felt sweat dripping from her hands and brow. She saw Bodur step forward and with his sword he attacked the skeletons. She tried to do the same but her limbs would'nt or didn't want to work. Her head felt dizzy, she lost her sense of direction. She tried to find something secure to hang on to, but all she found was a young thin tree, which she couldn't lean on. The ground seemed to be moving. Everything suddenly went black.

[Aerin]

(OOC: Tal said I could take over her character Kynan, so I am!)

Invisible muscles held the skeleton's hands tightly clamped around Morlung's arms as it dragged her beneath the surface of the earth. Whenever she twisted to break away, she could feel the bones dig deeper into her skin.

With a final shove, the undead pushed her into a small, utterly black room. Hitting the ground, she lay still for a few moments, regaining her breath and taking her bearings. Although her eyes could not see a thing, she could sense the walls around her and the oppressive air as the door to the chamber closed.

Kneeling, she ran her hands along the dirt walls, looking for some crack to widen through which she might escape. The door was securely blockaded; she did not have any hope of getting through there.
She began making her way down one side of her cell, and to her suprise, the wall kept going. The ceiling sloped down and the passage became narrower, but she could keep crawling along.

After she had gone some distance, the earth became damper and slightly musty air filled her lungs, purging the rank, dead air of the cell. Minutes crawled by as she slowly made progress along the narrow tunnel.
Time had no real meaning to Morlung; there would always be some rich person whom she could rob, no matter how much time she spent in a particular place.

Of a sudden, the tunnel opened into another grave. Morlung froze as she smelt the dead air, but realized there was none other inhabiting this grave at the time.
Breaking her way to the surface, she found herself staring at a pair of fighting figures.

___________________________________

Kynan had grabbed a stave from the ground when the first sounds of battle broke out. Rushing up to assist Bodur, he found his own share of the undead he had to fight off.
Right! Left! Block! Strike! The smooth moves of quarterstaff fighting came easily to Kynan as he fought off the unnatural blades seeking his flesh. Again and again, he smote the skeletons, but to little avail. Unless he was able to isolate a bone when he struck, the blows did nothing.

Aiming a particularly vicious blow to the vulnerable neck of a skeleton, he managed to knock the head cleanly off. To his amazement, the rest of the body kept fighting, as if the head had never detatched. Another of the Barrow-Wight's minions came to assist its fellow and began pressing Kynan harder and harder.

Sweat fell into his eyes as he continued to fight; suddenly, the small figure of a child emerged from the ground. Instead of giving more ground to his opponents as he had been, Kynan fought more fiercely, snapping bones and knocking the skeletons to the ground.

As more of the skeletons joined the fight, his confidence slowly began to turn desparation as the waking dead gained the upper hand in the fight.
Stepping back to avoid a particularly malicious blow, he tripped on a rock and fell backwards.

Down, down he fell, feeling it was long past the time when he should have hit the ground. Down, down, down....
__________________________________________________ _________

Kynan awoke with a start; he had fallen unconscious when his head hit the rocky surface of the grave. Wincing as he sat up, he looked around him. The chamber was fairly dark, but the slight form of Morlung was pale enough to show in the little light there was.

Sitting on her heels, she stared at the man. Who was he, to risk so much... for her? Why?
Tangled emotions and thoughts passed through her mind as she watched him slowly regain his bearings.

After considering the small girl for a moment, Kynan asked quietly, "Who are you?"

Morlung started; she was not accustomed to human speech, much less any speech directed at her. She could not recall an instant when any soul had spoken directly to her. She had always remained invisible to any eye; none saw her, none remembered her.
But this man was different; there was something in his eyes that was not in any others she had seen.

Dreams, said a barely audible voice in her mind. He seems dreams.
What dreams does he see? she queried, not disturbed by the sound. But the voice had stilled, and nothing she could do would prevail upon the voice to speak again.

Her voice rusty with disusage, she began to say, "My name is..." when a disturbance just outside the barrow brought both their minds back to the battle raging on above.

Without thinking, Kynan grabbed Morlung's nearly translucent hand, and dragged her deeper into the grave, hoping to evade their pursuers. Gradually, the noises of pursuit died away, but still Kynan ran on in a half-crouch.

They reached a locked, wooden door inset with metal inlay in curious patterns. No time for caution, Kynan grasped the handle and the door flew open.
It was only after he had securely locked the door did he realize there was a glowing light emanating from a pedestal in the center of the chamber.

Throwing any caution to the winds, he approached the raised dias. Lain in the middle of the flat surface lay a beautifully carven crystal key. The light that filled the room came from this softly glowing masterpiece.
The workmanship was such that the key caught the tiniest ray of light and reflected it in its multitudes of miniscule facets.

Grasping the key, Kynan turned back to Morlung, "We must find a way out of here. Will you follow me?"

Morlung shook her head, her pale blonde hair flying across her face. "I know a way. Come," she said simply and started off.

Once they made their way past the door, she took him through the narrow tunnel through which she had just come. Kynan was forced to wriggle unceremoniously through the small space, but managed to keep pace with the thief.

Coming back into the barrow which Morlung had been thrown in, she put her finger to her lips, then soundlessly snuck out. After a few tense moments, she reappeared and beckoned for Kynan to follow her.
They came up to the surface and drew great lungsful of the clean air.
To Kynan, the air had never seemed sweeter or more pure.

To Morlung's great dismay, Kynan stuck the crystal key into his tunic, and ran over to where Bodur was fighting. Joining in the fray with his quarterstave, he managed to come close enough to the leader to whisper, "I found the key."

[Ciryaher]

Bodur raised his hand in acknowledgement to Kynan and shattered to skeletal marauders to pieces with a diagonal cleave with his sword. The creatures were now few, but Ely noticed something.

Looking at the wight, he saw that it was peering at a pile of shattered bones. The bones moved together and reassembled themselves. The remade frame rose to its feet and grasped a sword, then advanced towards Ely.

The man charged forward and smashed it to pieces, then faced the wight, who drew a long dagger and hissed menacingly. "Bodur of Gilfane, thy time is at an end. Prepare to journey to the pathless dark where resides my master and lord," it said and stepped towards the knight.

Bodur whirled his sword in one hand, then gripped it firmly with both and stepped towards the damned soul. They stood facing eachother; Bodur with a stern and defiant glint in his eyes--the wight bearing wells of infinite blackness and evil. The fell spirit leapt forward and met steel with steel in a failed attempt to stab Elymyssus.

The wight suddenly swept out a small knife and ripped Bodur's shoulder open in a lightning-fast motion. With a howl of demonic triumph, it turned its visage to the void above and spoke to its master. Ely gritted his teeth as his sword swept over his head and down, cleaving the sinews of the undead down the middle of its body--not stopping until the blade was planted in the ground.

The earth began to shake and rock, and the hell-bound soul of the wight left its body in a black geyser. When Elymyssus stepped over to where the wight once stood, all that remained was a pile of tattered garments, jewelry, and a small scroll. He picked up the scroll and looked at it briefly, then turned to face his companions.

"Friends...we must now journ to a worse place than that in which we stand." Bodur held up the unfurled scroll--upon it was a map of Eriador, and there was a blood-marked X upon the accursed castle of Carn Dûm. "We must away to the Witch-Realm of Angmar," he said grimly then collapsed from the wound on his arm.

[Kementari]

"Angmar" said Tindomel is disbelief, her mind was filled with black fear but she shook it aside. She nelt down by Bodur and examined his shoulder. Much to her relief the wound was not poisened but it was very deep. She cleaned it with athelas and dressed it as well as she could.

[Aerin]

Kynan knelt by the side of the fallen leader, "Tindomel, will he recover?"
When she nodded in affirmation, Kynan let his thoughts drift to the next place they must journey to: Angmar.
Oh, the bone-chilling tales he had heard come from that accursed place, the seat of the Witch-King himself. Such stories were told to small children to get them to behave; but those stories were nothing in comparison to some of the ones Kynan had heard from grizzled adventurers in the inn.

The horrors that had been seen by those passing the dreaded realm! The screams that would curdle fresh milk, the rank smell of old, dried blood that eminated from the tower... more than enough to make a fully grown man cry like a child.

Kynan gave an involuntary shudder; to travel near Angmar was bad enough, but to go into the country was unthinkable.
He wondered why he was on such a desperate and insane mission, but as he looked down on Bodur, he saw such a strength and fearlessness in his features, even as he lay wounded, and he knew that he would follow him whither he went.
Elymyssus Bodur had a quiet, commanding presence about him that made others put their trust in him and look to him for leadership.
Kynan shook his head; even without the prompting of his visions, he felt sure he would have followed Bodur from the inn the same way he had.

[Asha'man]

Kheldan Jorai stood at the window of his tower, gazing out on the twisted landscape below. Peering into the distance, he wondered what evil he could work in the world this season. Just then, one of his raven spies swooped in the open window and landed on his shoulder. He wove fine threads of Spirit and swept the bird's mind clean of all it had seen since it had last reported to him. "Travelers?", he mused. "In the Downs? I've not sent my soldiers there since the last Barrow-Wight uprising, so it must be another group of troublesome questers. Well, at least I'm no longer lacking a mission."

Belting on his Power-wrought sword and tugging on his boots, he shrugged his black cloak on and strode down the long spiral staircase. Reaching the large boulder blocking the doorway, he used cables of Air to move it aside and walked outside. Setting the stone back into place, he let go of the Power and walked toward his stables. Shooing away the lazy stablehands, he saddled the black stallion and spurred him toward the Downs.

(OOC: This is my very RP post ever, so bear with me. If I screw the story up too badly, PM me and set me straight. Thanks!)

Asha'man

[Aerin]

(OOC: Just for you, dear. :rolleyes: )

Once she and Kynan had re-emerged into the fresh air, Morlung had snuck behind the safety of a nearby boulder to watch the proceedings.
Seeing nothing that was to her immediate advantage, she decided to leave and set out on her own once again.

An hour later found her in a heavily wooded area, slowly wandering paths hidden to the casual eye. She looked up at a bird singing in a tree, and for a brief moment wondered what it must be like for its offspring to have a parent to protect and defend them.
Blinking, her mind turned to other things as the thought drifted away, much like the mists that are wafted away by a breeze.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days later, Morlung was nearing the edge of the forest that bordered on a dry, desolate plain, blackened as if by some great strife. The lingering smell of battle and death was in the air, while underfoot, the crunching of dry grass seemed to one as the crunching of bones.
Paying no heed, she traveled on, clinging to the ever decreasing shrubs and small stunted trees that struggled to grow in the harsh climate.

[Asha'man]

Suddenly Morlung heard the rapid beat of a horse's hooves in the distance. Looking around, she saw a dust cloud coming towards her from the north, so she ducked quickly behind a deformed shrub to wait for the rider to draw nearer. As he came closer, she could see only that he was tall and clad entirely in black. At first, he made as if to ride past her hiding spot, but stopped, turned, and rode up to her bush. "Well, what have we here?", he chuckled. With a smile that never touched his eyes, he asked who she was and what she was doing in such an inhospitable place. After finding out her name, profession, and the story of the last few days, he started grilling her about the location, number, armament and general morale of the group she had encountered. Hearing her talk, Jorai could almost smell the distaste the girl had for these questers, and thought he could turn that to his advantage.
"Would you like to help me remove these questers from my lands? There could be rewards in it for you."
At the word "rewards", Morlung's ears perked up - that was what she lived for, after all.
"Well now, I might be. What kind of rewards are we talking, and for what work?"
"I haven't had a challenge for months now, so I was thinking it'd be interesting to play with these travelers - maybe take their group apart from the inside. I desire only the entertainment - all the spoils would be yours. Are you a decent actress?"

----------------------------------------------

A raven flying high that evening saw two figures, one riding, one walking, make their way back to the barren tower grounds at dusk. Still talking quietly, they vanished into the shadowed tower. With a harsh croak, the bird wheeled away, looking always for intruders on its master's estate.

Asha'man

[Ciryaher]

Ely felt that someone in the group was missing, but he was not quite sure. "Well, my friends," he began, "Now that we have the key, we will return to Bree, collect our wits for the night."

He looked grimly at the shattered bones all over the ground, and then adjusted his backpack and walked northward.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

About two hours later, as the sky became grey with the pre-dawn twilight, the party once again reached Bree. They told their tales all day and into the evening, and then bedded for what they all knew would be their last night in a real bed for some time to come.

In the morning, they filled their packs once again and set out without event. The road eastward stretched into the distance.

"We have a long road ahead of us," Bodur murmured.

[Adrastea]

Damina opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Lothoed eyes staring back at her. Lotheod helped her stand, by the time all her senses came back, she had heard the last bit of Elymyssus speech. "Witch-Realm of Angmar, I have only heard that name only a few times. And those times that name was used like a made up place, used in stories to frighten children" she whispered to Lotheod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She now stood beside Kynan at the edge of a well worn road. She had been told many stories about Witch-Realm of Angmar since that name was first mentioned 2 days before. Her heart felt cold when ever the name aroused.
She had her pack on her back and was ready to go, she tried to follow Ely, but her feet would not move. She felt ridicules standing there while all the other people walked 2 meters down the road. Kynan walked back and whispered in Damina's ear. "Is all right, your allowed to be scared, just take one step and then the rest will be easy". Damina swallowed and took one step forward. She quickly caught up to the other members who were waiting for her.

[Aerin]

Kynan felt sorry for Damina; she was so young to be out on such a mission. Facing the skeletons had been difficult enough for the more seasoned members of the party, but he felt pity for the younger ones.
Younger ones... something nagged at the back of his mind, but he could not place it... not yet.

Morning sun filtered through the clouds to shine merrily on the band. The way was fairly easy; huge grasslands stretched out in front of them, while the distant peaks of the Ered Lui could just barely be distinguished on the horizon behind them.

Although their travel was not hindered greatly, Kynan still found his hand on the hilt of his sword when he let his mind wander. There was something that set him on edge, but he could not tell what it was. Trying to shrug off the feeling, he checked and re-checked his weapons constantly.

On the second dawn of their journey, the sun did not shine noticeably less, though there were more clouds and night fell sooner. Everyone huddled in their cloaks during that night, and were chilled by the time the sun rose again.
Very quickly, they began to notice the cold wind that blew about them and how the sun's rays no longer warmed them.

By their seventh day of walking, the sun did not come out from behind the clouds; the only difference between night and day was the dusky haze that signified the sun attempting to break through the thick clouds.
At night, they lit a fire to warm themselves, but the fire was sullen and inclined to smoke.
By day, sleet stung their hands and faces, pelting their cloak-wrapped bodies; by night, strange crieds filled the air as they huddled in their blankets, trying to keep warm.

Ten days after they had set out from Bree, they sat around a small campfire, trying to bring back some feeling to their numb hands. Teeth chattering, Kynan chanced a look out to the North-East.
Frozen hands forgotten, he stared at the apparition.

Not more than two days walk away rose a gigantic, dominating, black tower. No light reflected from it; instead, it seemed to suck in any light that dared approach its massive structure. The towers were high and forbidding; the bottom a gargantuan mass of black rock.

Not wishing to disturb the others before need be, Kynan silently rose and went over to Bodur.
He asked quietly, "Have you seen the tower?" When Bodur nodded in affirmation, he continued, "What shall we do?"

[Mormegil]

Sigthar had also seen the black tower and was struck by its dark looks. The place seemed to have an evilness about it that Sigthar could not explain.

He was worried about the journey to Angmar. He had also heard some pretty nasty things about the Witch-realm. He hoped that things wouldn't be as bad there as everyone expected.

He watched Bodur and Kynan, feeling that they were discussing what to do, and so he waited for them to decide.

[Asha'man]

As the group made camp that night, they couldn't shake off a feeling of impending danger. The tower looming in the distance didn't help, nor did the twisted, dying vegetation. A small, half-buried fire heated their meal, and they ate in near silence. Guard duty was scheduled, blankets were readied, and the camp went quiet.

Hours later, an inhuman roar shattered the stillness and thick arrows thudded into the blanket-rolled figures by the guttering fire. They twitched on the ground as they took on the resemblance of large, shapeless porcupines. As suddenly as it had begun, the ambush ceased, and the sound of heavy footsteps and hoofbeats retreated from the camp.

After the sounds had faded into the distance, Bodur poked his head out of his blanketroll hidden in the bushes. Seeing the grass poking out of the shredded blankets around the fire, he was glad they had decided to use dummies that night.

Asha'man

[Aerin]

Morlung stepped back from the window, and turned to face Kheldan. “Let me see if I understand your offer correctly. A full third of the loot you have plundered from former trespassers now, and the rest after the party is … gone?” A slight smile played delicately around her lips while her fingers toyed with a strand of her hair.
Suddenly, the light went out of her face and it resumed its expressionless, pale gaze. “What gain do you have in this? Surely you do not simply give out such riches for such a small task?” Her eyes were hard and questioning as she stared up at the man.

Kheldan’s dark features held a cynical humour as he eyed her critically. “We both wish to achieve the same ends in this, do we not? Why, then, do you question such an offer that would make you rich beyond your petty imagination?” His lips curled into a mockery of a smile as she straightened, indignant at his description.
“Careful the words you say, they could cost you more than I give you for this job.” He strode over to the window and casually looked across the plains. “For someone such as yourself, this mission would not be difficult.”

The little wench, he thought, She has no comprehension of the greatness of the offer I make. She’d as soon take what she finds on the travelers than work under me.

Morlung weighed the decision carefully; to work for the lord of Angmar was in itself a dangerous thing, but the rewards would certainly be great, but the price he would demand if she did not do exactly as he willed was also extreme.
After a few moments of contemplation, she met his eyes again, strong, confident, and unafraid. “I will take your offer,” she said simply.

[Morwen]

She was torn. Her mind demanded she return to protective bubble of her master, but herheart baded she continue. They had traveled further now, and she had not followed. She was told to seek them, to discover their motives; yet, she was not allowed to follow them further than the barrows.

The lichen-shrouded rock, atop which she sat, had given her shelter. It was time she moved on. She could see darkness in the distance. A twisted land not so much different than what she was, or at least what she thought she was. There she would be in her element, or so she thought.


The lingering rays of the sun cast the land into a ominous red glow. Dark clouds gathered. It was time to go.