The Dark Legion Role Playing World

[Dengen-Goroth]

This is the central RP thread within the Dark Legion Guild. An outline of its purpose is located with the Dark Legion thread. *All members who will participate in the Dark Legion Role Playing World must first post in their respective orders* When posting there are but few rules to abide by:
1. Watch grammer and punctuation, writing illiterate posts is like throwing garbage into a pristine lake, it harms it immesurably.
2. Do not insult other posters, if you have criticism ensure it is constructive.
3. If you have something to state out of character, post it in the Dark Legion thread.
And last, and most certainly not least, enjoy yourselves!

*It had been nigh on half a century since the death of King Elessar Elfstone. Yet all was not at peace in the lands of Arda, for all which was evil had not passed with Gorthaur into shadow. Even then there came from the deeps of the east one who had eluded the wrath of the Valar and the rancor of his own. He who had seen the rise and fall of great elves and dwarves, and who had eluded the hand of man. And as He passed the faithful did rise. The age of peace, born from the din of war, fell in silence*

[Dengen-Goroth]

A summer breeze meandered through the silent streets of Umbar. The lape of waves aganst the mighty hulls of ships and quays crept over Dengen-Goroth. He passed a hand over the mane of Maetha, his steed. Long had he come from the lands of the east, to bring to fruition that which all other before him had failed to accomplish. He was struck by the utter silence of a city robust neath the rays of Anor, yet silent under the pallid beams of Ithil.

After some time he arrived at a fairly well kept inn, modest in size though made attractive by the din of music which issued from its open windows. Goroth dismouted Maetha and strode through the entrance.
"Ahh, look who it be gents! Rhunethir! What took ya so long, can't hold the ale long from these dotards!" Exclaimed a fairly portly man, the innkeeper.
"I have little intent to indulge my palet this night Bachor. Simply a place for reflection."
To this laughter erupted. Could there be a more respectable place for meeting, of course not

[Tar-Ancalime]

Atarlasse crept into the inn, she sensed the presence of another Dark Lord. Is this another Maiar to prove that he can topple the west? she thought to herself. She sought to find out.

Atarlasse had been on Middle earth for ages, wandering here and there. She had served dark lords before, all of them. She often got bored of all the plotting. She wanted to discover what made this dark lord seem so different. Perhaps he was wiser than the others. Or just spent a longer time brooding than the others. At any rate, she was going to find out.

She awoke herself from her thoughts and when the innkeeper had left to take Goroth's order Artalasse began to approach Goroth.

ooc- if you want to get some idea of apperance, see Dark leigon profiles

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

A wandering Petty Dwarf had told Zalek of this Maia in the southeast, before he was put to death. Zalek Thunderforge, an evil scowl upon his face, burst into the inn with a great calamity, all eyes were fixed upon the Dwarf. Zalek smiled to himself with satisfaction, for he enjoyed making a grand entrance wherever he traveled. He was Zalek Thunderforge, son of Dain and Kilease Ironfoot of Erebor, and was evil and full of rage. He cared not for the lives of others, and did not wish to recieve the same courtesy.

Walking slowly, stroking his golden beard with a calloused hand, he searched for the Maia from under his great bushy eyebrows which seemed permanantly twisted in an expression of distaste. His eyes soon came across a woman, an odd sight in such a disgusting bar, and a tall handsome Man, though not dirty and rugged enough to be a Man from Umbar. Surely one of these two knew the Maia, or perhaps was the Maia himself. Zalek stomped over and sat down next to the woman, his feet dangling off the edge of the seat. He glared at the humans, but spoke not until he was spoken to.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse did notice the dwarf, she loated every dwarf. Dark or Light. She still had not discovered about Goroth's intentions in arriving. She took a deep breath and anylzed how to approach this maiar. Artalasse knew she was beautiful, but as a maiar he's probably seen many beautiful things. She was mysterious, maybe he would allow her company if she was mysterious enough to gain his trust. Although the thought made no sense to her. She was puzzled.

the time to move was now since he was alone. She came up to Goroth and asked, "Is this seat taken."

[chrysophalax]

Not too far from the Inn in which Goroth and his cronies were sorting each other out, an Elf rode through the streets in a foul mood. It seemed to him that he had been too long in the South and his ambitions, which lay elsewhere, had been neglected. He kept his hood up, for while Elves weren't entirely unusual here, he hated being stared at, at least for those reasons.

A smile played on his lips as he rode slowly, his mind idly wondering how he would best entertain himself this night. A wench perhaps? A drunken brawl? None of these thoughts appealed and he became irritable, reached down and stole a pastry from a nearby shop window and when confronted, smiled cruelly and drew one of his knives. The shop-keeper wisely retreated inside. "If only there were something of interest afoot." he sighed, licking the last of the crumbs delicately from his fingers.

[Morwen]

The sunlight simmered through the boughs of an oak long forgotten in its lichen infested raiment. Moss hung from its bent and broken branches, falling down in a cascade of olive green. Yet, the sunlight still shone through those few leaves that still attached themselves to the oak's pride; it was still beautiful.
A sudden crunch of leaves sent up a racket of forest animals. Out of the corner of her eye, Nimorod espied a black form as it streaked by to her right. She exhaled. A great adrenaline welled within her body and she sprang after the black form. Her fingers grasped the last furs of a magnificent tale. Ataag had eluded her again. She accosted the wolf as it returned to the frustrated form of its master. Nimorod glanced down at the wolf, taking in the knowledge of its eyes. She agreed silently to its advice; it WAS time to go.
Slipping her daggars into their sheaths, and returning her long bow into the folds of her cloak, she set off with the wolf trailing in her wake.

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth nodded ascent towards the woman before him.
"It is not taken."

[Tar-Ancalime]

"thank you" Artalasse curtly said, "have i not seen you before?" she then asked taking her seat.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Interesting, there are but few dwarves who roam these parts. It is now a saying that they have withdrawn to the very heart of the earth." Goroth paused. "Though obviosuly those are mistaken. Greetings Lord Dwarf. You seem to be searching for me, correct?" Goroth allowed for a breif grin to glance over his features. His right hand reached for a chalice which lay on the table amide himself, the woman, and dwarf, while extending his left hand.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse nodded and lowered her voice to just above a whisper, "Art thou the ambitous maiar who comes to topple the west like those before you?" she asked him. Then she shaked his hand. "If thou art I am very pleased to meet you."

[Morwen]

"Indeed," whispered Nimorod, crouching behind a large boulder. "As it may be auspicious, caution is a necessity in all such cases. I will enter; I feel no great threat."
The wolf glanced by her towards the inn, its eyes seeming to rest upon an object within the poorly constructed frame. It caught her glance and they stared into the other's eyes for just a moment. Nimorod nodded.
They left the safety of the woodlands and slowly, confidently, paced towards the inn door. As they were about to enter, a melodic voice called out from the murky insides. "Animals have no place at the meetings of men."
Nimorod frowned, taking in the man's meaning. She looked to Ataag, who had perfectly understood the man's intent. He gracefully bounded off into the forest once again. She then entered and beheld a strange face, a face extremely unusual in her memory banks. The woman seated next to him moved uncomfortably as her eyes rested upon his longer than normal greetings required.
She broke the stare and seated herself opposite the couple. This was going to be more interesting than she had imagined.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse was patient, she could wait for his reply. She knew patience well. when the world was young, she patiently waited in innocence for her kin. But never found them, but found a great lord instead, Morgoth.then when Morgoths aspirations failed, she waited for another lord of darkness to return. Then Sauron came. And when he failed she wandered, and wandered and now she thought the next one came to try his luck. She would wait for his answer.

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth allowed for a curt laught to escape his lips.
"My lady, I know not of what Maiar you speak of." Upon the mention of the word there came upon his eye a glint. "I am a man whose ambitions are few and far between." After a slight pause he lowered his voice. "Let us not speak of things that would harm those who hold reign over this land within their own inns. I find it most distasteful." Suddenyl he noted another woman take a seat by them. Interesting

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse knew to leave it at that, he was not yet ready to reveal himself...she was certain it was him. "Thank you for your frank answer, i do apoligize if i happend to offend you." Then she left and sat down to order at the bar.

[Azog]

Not far south of the inn, a Warg, carrying its master rode. Its swift paws sending it darting along the road. Its powerful hindquarters rippled as it ran, and upon its back was Azog, a great orc warrior and follower of that which is evil. As the inn came into sight ahead of him, Azog left the open road and stopped in the dense underbush.

'Vublung' he commanded, 'Stay hidden until I return.'

The Warg turned and looked up at its master and snarled. It then rested its head on its paws and nipped at the grass. Azog left...

In only a matter of seconds, the door of the inn opened, Azog stepped inside, and stood still for a moment. He looked out at those gathered together and stepped towards them. He soon reached where they sat and took a seat himself. The chained belt that he wore rattled on the wooden chair.

'Greetings, I am Azog.'

[Tar-Ancalime]

She looked at the being who just entered and was really not in the mood to talk. When he said the word maiar his eyes had a glint. It was a major clue.

[chrysophalax]

From the shadows of a nearby building, Gilbarad had watched the succession of differing races enter the Inn and he wondered what or who had summoned them to this particular place. Curiosity getting the better of him, he nudged his horse forward and entered the Inn's stableyard. After threatening the young ostler if he didn't see to his horse immediately, he entered the front door and eased his way to a table by the fire.

He sensed power emanating from the man seated at his ease, surrounded by....hm, a Elf or two, female (his lip drew back in a sneer) an Orc, (interesting) and a Dwarf ( dull creatures). he gestured to the inn-keeper and got a pint for his trouble. As he drank, ke observed, knowing he himself had not escaped notice.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Greetings Azog, I have heard your name spoken in many a vale and dell. The honour of our meeting rests on my shoulders alone." His smile was broad, and his tone mirthful. "Quite an interesting assembly we have here, eh?" As he spoke his eyes fell upon a figure which had just entered the inn. A man it seemed, one who was unreasonably interested in Goroth and those assembled about him.

[Tar-Ancalime]

She had her drink now and just sat quietly observing every one...especially the sneering elf, she did not trust him. He had deciet and lies written on his face. But then again who in this gathering didn't.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad leaned back in his chair and propped his long legs up on the table. He had stripped off his cloak and thrown it across his lap, the fur lining shining in the fire-light. He noticed the Elven female eyeing him and he nodded, raised his tankard in salute and drained it in one draught.

The presumed leader interested him. He seemed to regard Gilbarad with disdain, something he was not accustomed to! Someone to challenge him at last? His lips twisted in a cruel smile. Good! At least he wouldn't be bored any longer.

[Tar-Ancalime]

she turned swiftly, she saw his past, he was a failure as an elf, even by the standards of the dark elves. She had not lived all the ages of this world to ge picked up by a disgrace of elvendom. She again focused on her thoughts, did she uselessly speculate? "I know its him" she said to herself, affirming her thoughts.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"What are your intentions my fine compatriots. I believe you know mine, as you came to me. Shall you come with me as I awake the men of Gondor from their reveries? For if so, speak now. Time we have far more then necessary, though I grow impatient." Goroth spoke those words in good humour, it was apparent he was finding this encounter agreeable.

[Morwen]

"Nay," whispered the Wolf Lady. "Is it by our grace that we must follow you, a person of unkown triumphs or failures? By what may we know your credence of leadership? Should this expedition lead to the greatest acheivement ever wrought with the hands of Darkness, what then would we bow to? You, or a greater evil that as afore failed, and will anon fail again but for the short reign of midnight we leash? Is the greater evil one that has a countenance, or one that floats upon the stale winds as a cloaked rider at night. If rebellion is your choice, then thy malice will be revealed, if not directly tagged to your personage. My path lies long over the eastern hill, floating high admists the currents of darkness. Were it better I follow in your stead, then it would be so. But methinks that that darkness should not come from the expected. Therefore I will not go with you into the lands of Gondor. I will away to better ways."

Her lids fell slowly and she gazed out at the surrounding croud through her eyelashes. And soon the daggar of her gaze fell upon Goroth, in whom she had great liking. But her place was not with them; they had told her this.
She whistled and Ataag bounded through the door to the chagrin of the owner of the inn. They left silently, the soft swoosh of her cloak the only sign that she had truly depart.

[chrysophalax]

"Interesting...talk of an uprising, yet not all it would appear have much faith in this leader." Gilbarad thought as he watched the departure of the female and her Warg.

Curiosity ever his failing, he rose and strode over to the table around which sat the others, who were somewhat taken aback at his approach. Not expecting a hearty welcome in any case, he joined them without ceremony. "I over-heard some of your conversation and as I am at loose ends at the moment and always willing to enter into any enterprise that might profit me, I offer my services, which are considerable."

[Tar-Ancalime]

"Long have I waited to see you back again...I will most surely join you." Artalasse said. She stood up and stood near goroth and the rest.

[greypilgrim]

Agar had walked long, gotten lost. He had been following many paths of late, all of them dark. He had come all the way from Harad, the road was a hard one, and confusing. Yet he would have died upon it, before he stopped walking.
His bald head was steaming, not from the atmosphere in this room, but from the one inside of him. He looked around...Here was assembled the most powerful group of individuals he had ever seen, if not dreamed of. Much could they accomplish, he was thinking.
He immediately felt disgusted with his own being. He drains the mug-o-beer, wipes his lips. Looking at his own two hands, he wished he had just a bit of their power in them, he would accomplish much then, he thought. But he is used to thoughts like this.
Much had his thoughts been of War lately, tickling his mind, beckoning him. But this was only natural.
Agar turns and strides slowly over. He sees Azog there.
Nervously introduces himself, turning away from Azog as he bows to you all.





All right, is Melkor in this area? Agar would act alot differently in this case. Anyways, he would probably just start worshipping him or something....Am I doing the right thing in here?

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad observed the unkempt human that had so recently joined them and raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm, seems to be a little lost, what a shame...I wonder if he might prove useful?" he thought as he signalled to the bar for more drinks.

As the help bustled around behind the bar fetching drinks for the assembly, the Elf began thinking to himself on why each of those sitting here had found themselves thus collected at this precise time. "Couldn't be for any good reason." he thought wickedly.

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth nodded towards Agar.
"I am pleased to have your support. We must venture before day-break. We ave a great burden, for the seeds of dissent are not yet sown, and that, I have found, is the most difficult aspect of these plots." He leaned back. "So I would recommend that you all recieve some rest. This shall be an arduous treck indeed."

[greypilgrim]

Agar understood what Dengen was saying. And he wished also to find rest. He is weary. As he sips his mug with his left hand, his right "hand" is upon the table. Looking around, he thinks he could learn from some of these higher beings here, of things concerning War. He will offer whatever help he can. He is especially interested in the "seeds of dissention" that are being sewn here. Agar loves subterfuge.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse stood observing and nodding, agreeing with all that was said. She was willing she hated staying in one place.

[Dengen-Goroth]

The group remained in silent talk for some time, till they each departed to quarters the owner provided charitably. The night passed gradually for Goroth, he did not retire. Remaining by a light fire he read over parchments of various conditions, weather worn or pristine, aged or from not more then a week prior. Each contained heartening word, each pledging aid to a force they knew not. Though which could he lay trust upon, and which were simply meant to be a gilded chest bereft of content other then his downfall.
“Hail Harbringer of Dusk! Long has the land withered neath the fiery suns of the Western King. Let that be broken, least we fall fast to its beems.”
“Man of the East. Your proposal intrigues me. I welcome council.”
“The bastion is within thy hands, great One! Claim that which is yours, drive forth the Western tongue!”

The sun had not yet broken over the horizon, thought its rays cast first light over the heavens. Goroth was already upon his steed, awaiting those who would follow him. Their trek would be long and under the heat of the southern sun. Not a pleasant endeavor for most, if any.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad was never an early riser and cursed their leader as he rose. He pulled on his clothes and gathered his weapons together. After he had dashed some cold water in his face, he stalked down the hall and thumped on the doors of each of those who had said they would join Dengen. Curses greeted him for his trouble and he smiled. "Ah, a fine start to the day!" he thought as he went downstairs and waved to the inn-keeper as he left.

Dengen sat his horse, watching to see who would join him. Gilbarad nodded a greeting and disappeared into the stables. He shouted at the top of his voice for his horse and after much scrambling, it was brought from a stall in the back. He made a show of making certain the animal hadn't been ill-treated, then tossed the stable-hand a coin for his trouble. He then mounted and rode out to wait with Dengen.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse herself was an earlier riser. She first went downstairs and ordered an uplifting drink, then she was tapped on the shoulder by Dengen, knew that it was soon time to leave on this mysterious journey. She went to find her horse, the stable boy gave her the once over, she glared at him and warned him telepathicaly to get away. He got no tip that day. She then after getting out her horse saw the rest of the group, the leery male elf still trying to remain firm on his horse, and Dengen proud as ever on his fine mare., and many others who she had not become well aquanited with.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad glanced at the female and wondered what her problem was. Ever since he had joined the group, she had done nothing but look at him with disdain and think disparaging thoughts. It was obvious to him that perhaps she had taken a severe blow to the head, thus robbing her of all reason, or her corset was just a bit too tight. In either case, he vowed to look no further in her direction, at least for now.

It was plain for all to see that she desired Dengen anyway. Power did have its privileges.

[greypilgrim]

When Agar was wakened by the hard knock on his bedroom door, he got up, put his hand back in place, made sure his uniform was pristine, and said to himself "Here we go again."
For this Mission he was of course wearing his hardest, darkest, goldest armor...to appear worthy and strong, of course. His black cloak would keep him comfortable over it, for now. He walks to get some eggs for breakfast.
He hated walking, hated horses, mornings, sleeping, even hated being a man. But being very accustomed to long journeys, and being a man, never changes. Worse than being that, being an orc, he thinks.
Agar goes and rents the best horse he can find, so that he can keep up with this squadron. Elves and Dark Maia were here, as even his own allies! He knows he will have to soon work hard...Renown among the great of old, recorded in scrolls like he used to read, is what Agar seeks. And above all, Power over many lands.
He fills the bags upon his horse with travelling supplies. Then goes to drink a beer.
After two beers, he walks the horse out to the front of the inn.
He hops on the horse, puts his feet in the stirrups, and grabs the reins with his right hand. An empty Sheath is affixed on a steel belt on Agar. Looks to Dengen, obviously the leader of the group here, and awaits his first order. The sun makes his head warmer as he is waiting.

[chrysophalax]

"I wonder where the Orc is? Odd, they're usually the first ones about when there's mayhem afoot, What could be keeping him?" Gilbarad looked at the four of them and pondered, misliking the odds should they get into trouble straight off. He hoped that this leader, who seemed so strangely silent, would have the charisma to pull this thing, whatever it was, off.

[Azog]

A Warg bearing a rider came soon. The rider was Azog, wearing a sword at his waist. Azog dismounted and walked to those gathered around Dengen Goroth.

"Excuse my tardiness, but I had to let my Warg eat." Azog spoke, "Nevertheless, I am present now. When shall we be off?"

Azog nimbly got on his Warg's back, and pulled up by the right hand of the new leader. This being was indeed mighty, and would make an excellent leader in the times to come. Azog sat, waiting for their departure.

[greypilgrim]

Agar looked sidelong at Azog upon his Warg, which was showing its teeth sidelong back at him. If he must ride with the Orc race, he cared not...
"And even so will we set forth from this place, Orc." *looks to the West, and then at the Sun* "Upon not our own two feet, and yet far we must go, upon them, Azog....... before the time comes when your own Missions and Mine lead us else-where!"*looks at Azog in the eyes*
Agar loosenned his neck muscles by rolling his head twice, neckbone joints cracking twice, then glares at Azog, eyes widening in Anger, which is special to him.
"Until then, keep your filthy wolf and yourself back 4 feet from me, Azog, 4 FEET!!!" Holds up 4 fingers *He hates that Warg* "Excuse me, I am always in a bad mood in the mornings!" Agar said back, trying to keep it military.
Damn, he thinks.. we don't want any in-fighting, ever hopefully, within this Company! Gotta watch my tone near others...Look at us, we are truly Deadly! So mighty together, yet singly, not so mighty, against many!....by any means!... *looks at everyone else around* Wonders where we are, exactly!..And if there are women or riches to be got where we're going, quickly, before they might have to leave there.. The Female kind around him, he was not used to *sets his eyes straight ahead* It time for war, better start concentrating....What may this New Leader have in store? Agar just hates orcs, alot. But he's liking talk about Big Missions, because now he has another Purpose. Just want ya to get to know him, that's all, no offense AZOG.

[Azog]

Azog sneered at Agar, and turned his Warg to face him.

"Aye, I shall be four feet away, but only by your own doing. I won't go out of my way to keep you in good spirits." Azog grunted, and spit onto the ground. "When shall we depart, Dengen Goroth?" the orc asked.

[Tar-Ancalime]

"Dengen, indeed when do we move out to complete this elusive mission." Artalasse asked, becoming slightly impatient. She had been waiting ever since the 4th age began, and still she had to wait...

[greypilgrim]

Agar looked at that spit with disgust written on his face. "Orcs, they never have changed, have they?" he thinks. And what are "good spirits"? Agar wonders... He's never been "in" one. Azog seems to think Agar wants uplifting...doubtful. He will have to ponder this...Spirits Agar thinks about are Dark, and not "good" at all.
He pulls a sheet of paper out of his book, it's a map...Agar looks intensly at it....

[Dengen-Goroth]

Dengen-Goroth held his gaze ever upon the eastern horizon, from whence would come unbeconed the light of day. His followers were growing angered amongst each other even then, it seemed. He spoke, though did not turn.
"We ride when the first ray breaks over yonder hill."

[Tar-Ancalime]

"Oh..." Artalasse stated, she meant to say more but her words trailed off and added to the impatient silence. The group sat in silence, staring toward the east.

[chrysophalax]

"Is it your intent that we follow you blindly, lord? Would it not serve your purpose better if the rest of us were privy to some of your thoughts? There are those among us, I have no doubt that could greatly assist you if only we knew your intentins." Dengen's eyes greeted Gilbarad's with a cold glare as he sat his horse impassively.

[greypilgrim]

*close my eyes and waits for the sun to come*
Settling into a deep, hyper-relaxed state of mind. Visions pass through my head of many great things...victorious battles, many riches and women and spoils of the usual wars and things that come with my line of work. Breathing slows down, praying for strength, thinking of war, thinking of strategies, thinking far into the past for answers. *puts away the map*
*Agar is sitting erect on his rented horse totally aware of his immediate surroundings...people and animals...smells and sounds...but his mind is very very far away right now. Will stay like this until his instincts get him following orders again. Any kind of summons will bring him back to the "present".

[Turgon]

The Pelargir waterfront was home to many a knave and scoundrel - cutthroats, footpads, smugglers and jackanapes, all of them found a home here. Its taverns and vice dens drew rogues from all over the kingdom - each one eager to make a name for himself - or at the very least to make a pot of easy riches. Serewing's story was not so different. He was a wanted man in Umbar where Elessar's law now held sway, and the King kept order all too well, it was nigh impossible for a Corsair to earn a dishonest crown these days.

So it was that Serewing turned to the life of an adventurer. There were riches in abundance for any bold enough to seek them out. And in the dark recesses of Middle-earth many a hoard lay hidden. The Corsair had his eyes set on one such place even now. Rumours he had heard of the Mines of Moria, long a name of terror in hearts of all free people; but rumours he had heard too of a great treasure now unguarded, for Durin's Bane, it was said, had been banished from the world some years since by Elessar's pet wizard. What was there to fear now? A nest of orcs? Ossë's beard! Serewing ate orcs for breakfast. It would be an easy task! All he needed was a band of hardy adventurers and some good old-fashioned luck. Chestnuts! Serewing was the luckiest man alive. It only remained for him to find some like-minded souls.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Let us ride." Goroth said with a bemused tone. They wre growing impatient, undoubtedly believing that for the most part there was little purpose in Goroth's enterprise.

Soon it was midday and many were grown tired. For the land was harsh and barren, yeilding to the sun little triffels, but no great bounty. Goroth turned to glance at the others.
"We ride, my companions, to a town but an hour ride from where we know are. There there is an enclave of support for our cause, though undoubtedly many more who would lay us upon instruments of lament if they were to percieve our intent. The hand of Gondor holds these lands well, though perhaps we may yet severe her ties."

[greypilgrim]

*gets off the horse and stretches*
"My Lord, I have many men that I can offer to your services! There are Armies awaiting a simple message, a call, that will fly their way tied around the foot of this bird...

*Agar reaches into a small cage he's lugging around, inside is a small black bird. Agar reaches into his prayer-book and withdraws a note and hands the note to Dengen. Stands there holding the bird....*

"All you must do is command me to, and I will send this message.
The weapons are in the ready. They may reach the way-point in no less than two weeks, but they will come! Arrhhh...*squeezes the bird, it lets out a chirp*...I have a small gripe with Gondor/it's Realms."

[greypilgrim]

".......that will be sent their way tied around the foot of this bird"..........((((((the message, not the army! hehehe))))))

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad rode silently, but his mind was seething with activity. "If only we all knew what "our intent" was, Dengen." He thought rebelliously. "If it makes me money and I'm able to bring ruin of the "valiant ones" of my race, so much the better!"

Inside though he yearned for more than just revenge. He wanted to ful fill a destainy that was as yet unclear to him. Leaders under which he had fought had never questioned his skills, only his sanity. To say he was vindictive would be to say little or nothing about the way he truly felt about his own kind. To be able to say he was the last Elf in Middle Earth would suit him just fine.

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth heaved a sigh. The sun was rising steadily, though this was a path he had long dreamt of, and the rise seemed to slacken pace every moment. All about the group lay the barren hills and dunes of South Gondor. The great King, Elessar, had begun great work to bring back to the parched soil the foliage it once retained. Could they succeed, would they be allowed to. It was then that Agar spoke.
"Nay Agar, we need no forces. Ours shall be a battle of silence, of intregue. They shall now know of the blade placed against their throat till it strikes." He placed a hand over the hood which covered his hair, and with a slight movement grasped it and raised it above him.
"See you this cloth, it is like to our enemy, our one foe who has long wrought chaos within the courts of Bauglir, and of the lord of Barad-Dur. Yet it will not now, as it did then, do so." He placed it yet again over his head. "We go now where there is an enclave of support. The proposed plan is quite simple. This time on the morrow a column of Gondorian infantry shall march southward, bearing supplies upon the southern fronts. The Haradrim have grown troublesome as of late. We shall fall upon them, and never again shall any of their voices be heard. With those supplies, and employing the armor of the fallen, we shall move northward. When the time comes I shall reveal yet more."

They continued onward, growing all the more exhausted as they went. The silence about them grew upon their spirits, till it merged with the heat of the noon-day sun. Each of the party eyed the other with at first what could pass for a contorted curiosity, but now was of some disdain.
"Tell me my compatriots, what brings you upon this quest. From whence was spawned your enmity towards the West?"

[Calime Silvana]

A half mile away, an elvish woman stands grooming her horse and only friend Káriersilmë, Tarwëyn heard the beating of hooves along a well-trod path. Whispering words of reassurance to her horse, she guided him through the brush up a small hill to get a better view of the would-be visitors. "I wonder if they are friends..." She thought as her keen eyes scanned the party. One man had just let go a small black bird with a message attached. The others looked anxious and discomfited. Riding down the hill, she approached them cautiously and from about 50 yards away yelled, "Are you a friend of the elves?!"

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Who wishes to know this?" Was Goroth's response. Some marveled at how his voice traveled the distance with clarity, and seemed to ease the mind with its tone. Within his mind Goroth could do scant to repress the mirth which came forth, the elves had ever been the race which had interested him foremost. Their beliefs and behaviours, so simple to manipulate yet so pleasing when such an act was to be completed. He raised his hand to signal a halt, and with a glance noted that many now placed their hands upon the hilts of their blades, or other weapons of choice. His concern now centered as greatly upon this individual as upon refraining his companions. The sun beat down upon them, and a dust rose about them as they remained, their collective thoughts bent upon the approaching figure.

[Calime Silvana]

Peering out from beneath her cloak, she gazed upon the man on his horse...Tall and striking, even his countenance was commanding. Glancing around, she noticed his companion's hands instantaneously travel to the hilts of their swords...She could hear her heart beating, louder than the ocean pounding mercilessly upon the rocks. Shying away from their intent stare, she looked down and tried to find her voice..."Sire..."-her voice haltered- "I wish no harm upon you..." They call me Tarwëyn Silimaurë." Tarwëyn marveled that she used her secret name to such complete strangers, but something in the mortal's gaze made her suspect that with one look he already knew her secrets...

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad leaned forward and gazed at the newcomer. "Beautiful!" he thought, "Yet far too forth-coming it would seem. Why should Goroth show such interest in this little one?" He smiled at her and relaxed his grip on his sword-hilt. "She may prove a lively diversion as we ride. I shall have to see if I can persuade her to accompany me."

[Calime Silvana]

Her heart was beating loudly..What business did she have with these soldiers? She should go home to the elves, where she belonged! It wasn't natural for an elvish lass to travel alone..But she had no home..She anxiously awaited the general's response..

[greypilgrim]

Originally posted by greypilgrim
".......that will be sent their way tied around the foot of this bird"..........((((((the message, not the army! hehehe))))))
Agar, after hearing what Dengen had to say, had put that one message, which Dengen had read earlier and responded to concerning Agar's forces, he tied that message and another, around the small black bird's foot.

The messages were simple. Agar had sent a map of Middle Earth, with markings and notes upon it, and another message that was unknown...through the skies to a pre-determined location, where it was believed strongly by Agar that his luitennant commanders were awaiting a signal from him (Agar) soon. They would get that message in a few hours, from the time that he let go of the bird.
His way of communicating with those leaders within his öutfit back home, in Harad.

"...Dengen. It is done. My people will help as much as possible, to further our causes. And this elf-woman, is it desirable for her to be travelling among us? Ever has it been said in my lands that elves are not to be trusted. She seems to think we are accepting of her. What say you?
*looks at Gilbarad*
"Sir, what say you? You act like nothing is sacred, concerning your own people...what are your thoughts? I have offered mine already, my mind is clear. I will proceed onward. To my death if need be, only striving towards the fall of my oppressors! Not much is worth dying for anymore, or getting your throat slitted in the dark."

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth allowed for those about him to speak, before he did so himself, his hand ever upon the reigns of his steed.
"If you wish no harm, then what do you wish for?" The elf appeared never more nervous than then, her very figure seeming to tremble. And it was that even as she prepared to speak he turned towards Agar and said silently.
"Good tidings indeed my friend. Hold them, for their time is not yet come to enter this plot."
Such were the times, that some elves still roamed the lands. This startled Goroth the greater he gave thought to it, this elf seemed to hold far more then her appearences would suggest.

[Calime Silvana]

Noticing the disdain the mortals used when speaking of her kin, she immediately straightened, her courage rising with each word. "You have no reason to trust me, as I have no reason to trust you. I wish for nothing. I was simply inquiring as to who was traveling around these paths, they are rarely used. I am a wanderer, and though I am elvish, I have no batallion, no family, no connections. I live for noone. I realize you think me strange, for elvish lasses are not often to be seen alone...However, I am no common elvish lass. I have always been by myself, I can barely remember when 'twas different. And it suits me excellently, sires." Pain entered her gaze as her eyes traveled to the face of the general...Her tone was one of hurt indignance. "Now, it seems that you can have no further need of me...So I will go if I may." Upon speaking the last few words, she pulled off her cloak to mount her horse. Many soldiers gasped..She was stunningly beautiful. Her hair cascaded down to her waist, catching the suns rays as if it had been lit on fire. She glanced once more defiantly in the face of Agar, and began to mount her horse.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Now now, my dear. We meant no ill will in our words, myself and my companions. Do not flee with such haste." A smirk graced Goroth's features. "Come, we are wanderers ourselves. The sun beats down upon our heads with no respite." He paused, gazing towards the azure heavens above. "Some sing of the beauty of the skies, yet I see little to grace parchment, or worthy of word. We are growing weary with every moment, and know not where we will find rest for the slightest period of time. How well know you of these lands, for we search for a town which, from what little word has reached my knowledge, is to the north."
He grasped a pouch which hung at his side, and hastily went through the contents, searching the contents intently. Within moments he proudly produced a weathern word parchment, blackened at an end and yellowed.
"Here we are." Quickly he unrolled it as best he could, for the end unharmed by flame had adhered to itself by some strange manner.
"Farmenel, by the Western tongue. Know you it?"

[Calime Silvana]

She nodded, wearily I know little, but still some..I have traveled far and have attempted to understand many languages. What says it?

[Dengen-Goroth]

"A chance encounter which has proven itself fruitful to us it seems, does it not. Let us go hither, then, and make haste. I myself grow swoon neath the gilded rays of Anor. From what I can discern of our current position,we are but an hour or two from our destination. The only oasis in this forbiding realm." He paused, thoughts slowly aggregating into his great plot. She would serve well, all too well. Though what would his supporters think at first glance, the sight of their patron with an elf. Curse them! Trivial, all trivial, her presence would be very beneficial throughout the effort. The day will come, yet, when night closes over day, the autumn of Ambar ceades to eternal winter, and he would lead the movement, command the masses, which would rise and meld into one realm as had never before been seen, nor invisioned.
"Come friends, let us follow this elfen maid. I am certain she will prove her talent in knowing the far tracks of this land." With that he spurred his steed foward.

[Calime Silvana]

She mounted her steed, ready to make haste.."I know all the back roads, master..I have come here often..Hence would you have me take you?"

[greypilgrim]

Agar made ready to move out also. He jumped back onto his horse, and gripped the reins. His feet were fitted tightly within the stirrups, he used them to raise his own heighth, sitting upon the saddle a bit. *peers around at the landscape intently*
"My lord, the landscape here is familiar to me! Also my battalions are being held in check right now, when you need them, call." Agar said to Dengen, then he sat down.
Agar began to see the actions of the others around him, his squadron he has innerly named them. He rode slowly, paying attention to the actions of the people around him, so as not to disturb the cohesiveness of the "unit" with his own actions, by the way of them mis-understanding him.
He fell in line with the rest of his companions under the hot sun.

[chrysophalax]

Unused to being pushed to the outer edges of anything whether it be a fight or a discussion, Gilbarad rode in silence toward the rear of the group. He noticed with envy and a stirring of possessiveness the looks Goroth swept over their new companion. She was one of his own kind and for the first time in many long years, he found himself drawn to another Elf without wanting to kill it.

Startled by his own thoughts, he urged his horse ahead, determined to outrun whatever had come over him. His horse shot past the others, causing a couple to rear. He heard swearing behind him and perversely, it gladdened his heart. Better the curses of strangers than the admiration of kin or comrades. He knew this from bitter experience...

[Dengen-Goroth]

After some time Goroth felt a tinge of unease, they had traveled far in good time yet still found no view of Farmenel, though by all accounts they should have at that point been lounging in an inn or tavern. Amide the group there came whispers of concern, the sands and heat had slowly grown onto the minds of all there, and they had no intention of braving the colds of night the desert assured.
"What do you say back there, that you are grown weary, your heads leaden from the rays of the sun? Well calm yourselves, we may well come unto far worse locals then this. I know we are near, moments away in fact. There was a time, when I was far to the east, that the conditions were far worse, and left me in a far worse condition then you see me now. It was to the east and south of here I believe, many a year of travel would bring one there now. Those lands hold men of great intellect, and others where it is scarcer then trees which bloom golden petals. I found company with those men, of intellect, and swore to aid them in a war against the ones lacking control of their faculties. After much bloodshed, the occasional pilllage, we came into the outskirts of their capitol. Though it could scarcely be called such, not more then a shanty town of decrepit bungalows and disheveld old oafs. But the climate was so inhospitable that our ranks were thinned by hundreds in the course of days, and victory would not have been seen had we spent one more day."
He passed a hand over his forehead, the speech had been to tiresome. They continued onward. After some mroe time the silence was broken yet again by Goroth.
"I am grown disconcerted my fellows. In times such as these it is the talk of others which encourages my mind foward. Where have you traveled, friends, what have you seen in your times?"

[Calime Silvana]

She looked around anxiously...She did not wish the lord to think her ignorant...Riding up to him, he she had to shout to be heard over the hoof-beats. "My lord, We have traveled a long road...Should you be tired, we can stop, but our destination lied two miles from here..." He made no signs of stopping, however, so they rode the two miles, and came upon Farmenel...

[Calime Silvana]

Tarweyn felt eyes upon her. Looking over the army, she noticed someone riding in the back, staring at her intently..Gilbarad they said his name was...She wondered if he knew any of the elves...'best not to go ask and offend him..' she thought, rearing her horse once again to the front.

[chrysophalax]

Hearing Goroth's query, Gilbarad rqode nearer to the dark leader. "What have I seen, lord? Many things over many lives of Men. I know , far better than most, the inherent evil that dwells deep in the heart of the Elven race. Most deny it, but it exists nonetheless." He threw his hair back over his shoulder in distaste.

"I have travelled extensively in the East and along the southern coast. I once met a Corsair named Serewing, who's ambition nearly out-strips you own. Greatly would your power grow were you to ally youself with him" Goroth looked at him speculatively but said nothing. Deeming himself dismissed, he drifted away from Goroth's side, sensing the lovely Elf's eyes upon him and he sensed her curiosity and hesitation. He raised his eyes to hers and she turned hastily away. He grinned to himself as he watched her ride ahead of him.

[Calime Silvana]

Upon arrival of Farmenel, soldiers began to dismount..Tarweyn did likewise, looking for the stranger riding in the back. She had overheard something about evil and elves, and sensed distrust. Mixed emotions reigned and her senses betrayed her as the stranger Gilbarad raised his eyes to her then turned and grinned..Shards, this wasn't going to be easy if she were going to try and make conversation.

[chrysophalax]

After dismounting, he led his horse over to where Tarweyn was. He could sense her unease and, curious as to why someone so ill-at-ease was even riding with a company of strangers such as themselves, he sought to find out her intent. Even though strongly attracted to her beauty, he was still highly distrustful and he didn't want anyone coming between him and his plans for revenge.

[Calime Silvana]

Ah..So he approaches at last. Tarweyn thought as she watched the stranger come torward her..He was v. handsome, and very confident. As he drew closer, she looked into his face, smiled incandescently and said, "Milord..Is there something you would have me do?"

[Ol'gaffer]

Aren was bored. Nothing had happened for sometime now and he was not accustumed to wait. He took some steps around the cliff on which he was on, and looked down to the rows of soldiers that were passing under him. "More people, it seems to be a busy day." He thought to himself, the soldiers kept marching.
"There isn't much to do here, I might as well see where is everyone going." He thought, he whistled to his horse and began to decend the small path down to the army. He moved quickly and tried to get ahead of the soldiers before making it down to their level.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad raised an eyebrow at Tarweyn's question, an incredibly leading one he thought. "Yes there is, lovely one. I request, nay, demand that you join me as we refresh ourselves with whatever passes for food in this place." He held out his hand to her and tentatively she let him take her hand. He turned it over and kissed her palm.

"You say you have been here before, m'lady. Lead on then to the stables for I am famished and I would learn more of you."

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth spurred his steed foward slightly, as the group dismounted and spoke amongst themselves. He turned slightly and called back "I shall return soon, do not venture far!"
With this he rode deeper within the town, which was not a proud example of Western architecture in the least. The yellowed walls of the buildings, which rose no more then three levels, were broken in many areas, revealing the seeeming mud bricks which they were constructed of. Goroth pondered of how the buildings were constructed of such material if they were located in a virtual desert. The local inhabitants where not to be seen, though slowly as he proceeded he heard the echoe of what was undoubtedly a great din.
"The market day, blast it all." He murmured. He had arrived on the one day when the town market was held, it was a great event as farmers from the north came to sell their goods. The townsfolk replenished their stores on this day, and thus they all congregated on the shops which were set up in the central town square as early as possible, to ensure they had the best selection of goods.
Within a considerable amount of time searching for the square Goroth came upon it. It was quite a sight, numerous shops with vividly hued banners were set about the perimeter of the square in a roughly oval formation. Betwixt them a great throng of individuals were gathered. The cries of their bartering and, in some cases, heated debates rose into the air. Some were already departing for their homes, preceeded by great carts with numerous foods and other ware. As he moved foward a gaurd appeared bearing a great blade.
"No horses in 'er!"
"My apologies good sir, I knew not of such laws." Goroth made to dismount when the guard raised his hand.
"Hold 'ems 'er! I ain' promisin' protecteen ya horse." This situation was growing intolerable.
"Thank you good sir." Was Goroth's curt reply. He could not afford the loss of his steed, nor could he miss his rendevous. The steed turned sharply and quickly galloped towards the stables which he had seen upon entering Farmenel.

[Calime Silvana]

Tarwëyn looked up into his face, smiling.."How can I refuse such a demand, my lord? I am yours completely for the day. But, may I warn you..There are no places that you will find suitable for eating...Although I know of a lovely spot near the forest. I already have much Elvish food, should you want it, and we may away there as soon as you wish!" She looked into his eyes, expectantly.."What say you to this?"

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse had chosen to remain rather silent, but grimaced at the way the two other elves had gotten along. Artalasse had a spirit of a loner, and high standards. She went to what looked like a middle class tavern to nourish herself. After arranging a place for her horse she entered and sat herself at the bar.

"What would ye like Lasse?" the bartender asked her.

"Barkeep, I'd like wine please." Artalasse said calmly. The barkeep got her drink.

"There miss" she paid the keep and sipped her wine.

[Ol'gaffer]

Aren reached the bottom of the cliff. The troops had apparently halted some odd 200 meters from his position. His horse calmly galloped towards the troops. Within moments he was spotted and soldiers began moving towards him. "Who are you?" They asked, "I wish to speak with your leader." Aren said calmly without raising his voice. The soldiers ignored and kept moving towards him. "Who are you?" They demanded again.

[BlackCaptain]

Hmm... Nefnarion the Barrow King doesnt really seem to know whats going on in here... He and his 4 brothers just walk in and sit at the bar... They ask for the best selling drink in the house

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad smiled as he thought, "Bold wench! Either she's a fool, or very, very dangerous." For the first time in many years he had found a mystery worth solving. "Come, m'lady. Show me this place."

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse looked over the crowd at the tavern. most were harmless merchant-folk just sitting down for a decent meal. then some stuck out, horribly at best. Sipping her wine artalasse saw four brothers who looked noble, but they were also dark...

[Calime Silvana]

Walking with his arm in hers, she lead him out of Farenel for about a mile before they came to an immense forest. She sensed his uneasiness...”We are here, milord..Though not quite yet.” And with that a smile she pulled back several green boughs of an enormous tree to reveal a small ladder, leading up into it. “do you mind climbing, master?” Upon the shake of his head, they climbed far, until they came upon a clearing that contained a small platform, overlooking Farmenel. The view was breathtaking. Tarweyn pulled off her pack, and opening it, revealed lembas, drink, and several other items. “Will this suit you my lord?” She inquired happily.

[chrysophalax]

He sat down on the platform, taking in the view. It pained him, for it called to mind Lorien and a pang of long-buried regret. Wordlessly he took a cup of wine from her and looked back down the way they had come, knowing that they could not spend long here in this place.

Attempting to push away his unbidden thoughts, Gilbarad drew her into conversation. "Tarweyn, why are you here? Why do you wish to travel along with beings as ruthless as we? I could kill you without another thought and yet you smile at me? Why?"

[Ol'gaffer]

Seeing that he would get nowhere with the soldiers, Aren passed them and entered the town ahead, it was better than nothing and he hoped that someone had need for his talent. The town's watchmen took his horse to the stables and Aren made his way to the nearest tavern from the town entrance.
The smell of booze and pipe weed struck his nose and he pulled his cloack to cover the stench that made his eyes water.
The counter was full of people filled with ale and barely concious from the curse of it inside them.
But some seemed to have still sense in them, Aren made his way near them and ordered some wine, he held his cloack tighter and began to listen what was being said.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse noticed the man beside her, he was a sort of elf, maybe half elven maybe not. she was sure this strange man was questing to join their crusade.

"What brings you to this tavern?" she asked him.

[Calime Silvana]

Looking deep into his eyes, her gaze sombered.."You would..Kill me without another thought.." Her eyes revealed became contorted with pain, and with an air of resignation, she retorted icily, "I am accostumed to 'ruthless beings', as you would have it...I am something of one myself..I am an assassin. I will kill anybody who offends the warlord...'Without another thought.' She looked at him softly..."I am here with you because you intrigue me...Lle naa vanima...At least the handsomest I've seen among mortals. So, is that why you wanted to take me out to eat, to feed me then to finish me?" Tarweyn was bemused. "I haven't come to kill you, master..Only to talk."

[chrysophalax]

He looked at her over the rim of his cup as he drank, pondering. "Mortal? Nay, lady. I am of noble birth, of the Elves of Lorien, yet I am exile as well. The crime I committed was admittedly heinous, but I received no reprimand. I was thrust from the borders of the Golden Wood and never have I looked back. One day the proud rulers of Lorien will know what it is to treat me thus." His eyes clouded over as his mood darkened, but Tarweyn did not turn away. Instead, she reached out and touched his arm.

He rose and walked to the edge of the platform, still looking West. He heard her speak. "Why do seem afraid of me, lord?" In surprise he turned to her. "My name is Gilbarad. there is no need to call me "lord". Not yet at any rate." After hesitating a moment, he rejoined her. He found he actually enjoyed her company. Gilbarad chose to keep his own council regarding her question.

[Calime Silvana]

Tarweyn was startled.."You are elven?" Pulling back the hood of his raiment, she perceived his trademark and smiled.."I knew you were too beautiful to be human. Walking to the side of the platform where he now stood, she put her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes...Sympathy and understanding flashed in the emerald orbs.."What did you do to be banished? I was also banished..But not for an evil deed."

[Nenya Evenstar]

In an airy and bustling Inn nestled closely beside the Market Square of Farmenel, sat a woman drinking deep of the ale in front of her. This common room had been the quietest of any common room in the whole square but still caused a ringing noise to emanate inside the woman's head. Outside the din was almost unbearable and even this Inn was probably more packed than usual with rowdy and laughing people, the kind of scum that seemed to burst up on days like this. She was Eredhael and liked to refer to herself as The Lady of the Night, though her name did not carry that precise meaning. If only she could shut out those annoying sounds of raucous singing and squeaking fiddles! And the shouts of selfish hawkers who wanted their wares sold irritated her even more.

Eredhael took another huge gulp of her ale and slammed the cup down on the wooden table in front of her, its contents dribbling over the side. A pretty serving girl nearby gave her an angry stare but was silenced by a solemn slap on the cheek delivered by Eredhael. This was no time for stupid serving girls to get mad at her of all people! The girl fled.

Shaking her head and bemoaning the fact that she was so irritated on this important day, Eredhael jumped up from the table and practically stormed her way up the stairs to her private sitting room. She wanted to make sure that her appearance was perfect before she had to meet with this terror she could feel approaching from miles away. She knew that he was coming, coming to answer the letter she had written only a few weeks before. Why had she chosen this town of all towns to meet the new Dark Lord in? Eredhael peered into a gilded mirror in her rather richly-furnished apartment and quickly erased the frowning lines from her face. At least the noise was a little quieter up here! At any rate, she couldn't have worried lines and angry creases crossing her face during this meeting . . . no, she had to keep a good countenance at all times! Her olive complexion was still just as it had been last time she had checked with its sharply accented nose and cheek bones. Her eyelashes and eyebrows had been slightly accentuated by the use of some cosmetics, which were a particular enjoyment of Eredhael. She loved to better her looks with colors on the eye lids, cheeks, and lashes.

She sighed. Where was the man anyway? He should have been arrived a long time ago! Perhaps he had had problems finding the Inn . . . Eredhael grinned. She had not told the man where to find her . . . let him search! She wanted something from him and he wanted something from her. This would be an interesting deal if anything. But at any rate, she had to return to her observance of the common room whether she wanted to or not. Pulling both her thick black braids over her shoulders and smoothing her begemmed blue dress, she made her way back downstairs into the bustle and noise of people eating, people talking, people singing, people fighting, people screaming and shut the noise out, refusing to let it affect her again.

[Ol'gaffer]

Aren glanced slightly at the speaker from under his hood.
"I'm looking for work" he said from under his wine glass.
He placed it onto the table and turned attention to her. "And should I think that you could offer me some?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. His eyes stared straight into her's but there was no warmth or hope in them, they were the eyes of a cold and hardened proffessional who always looked into the customers eyes. And he waited.

[Tar-Ancalime]

"What I offer is not persay mine, but what my leader offers. Do you seek his service?" Artalasse asked him returning the cold stare. she waited for him to resond, for if he was the right person he would know of what she was speaking, if he was the wrong person he would find her insane or a lowlevel officer in the local mob.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad looked into her eyes and beheld there honest concern. Uneasily he climbed back down to the ground and walked a short distance, his mind in turmoil. Why did this woman care? It bothered him and he found himself almost glad she had shown concern.

[Calime Silvana]

Tarweyn was startled when Gilbarad climbed out of the tree. Quicky packing up her things, she nimbly climbed down behind him, asking "Did I offend you, milord?"
OOC:Chrys, you should join the rp im in under ignorant heathen. it is in serious rpgs...

[Ol'gaffer]

Aren finished his drink, "then I shall speak to your leader." He said without looking at her, he paid the bar tender and got up waiting for her to show him to her leader.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse finished her remaining wine and went to find her horse. The strange man folowed. now she waited at the middle of the town for Goroth to return.

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad turned to her and took her by the shoulders. "Listen to me. You have not offended me, only reminded me of...someone. We should go."
He hesitated a moment as she looked into his eyes, then grabbed some of the things she was carrying and walked in silence with her back to the village.

[greypilgrim]

Agar was strolling around the area, he decided to head back to his homelands. There was much to do there, it seemed to him.
He got his horse, and rode out of town, alone. His strong right sword-arm extended towards the sky, other hand holding the reins. The owner of the inn where Agar rented the horse will get his rental fees later. Agar was determined to pay the price.

There was a fire in Agar's eyes like never before, he had much to do, for his people had sent him a message, and now he must go. He headed southwards, toward the Harad Road, and home.


Bill the Troll watched Agar ride southwards and could not believe his friend had left him without saying goodbye...he looked sad, but soon got over it. He just kept to himself, and was soon gone from the party of travellers. He was too out of place. And weary.

Bill picked up his hammer and chain, and he also left the (city?). He was headed northwards, towards his home, near Angmar, and the mountains in that region. There would be tumoil, hardship upon his road. Bill was used to dealing with that.
:rolleyes:...Bill left without saying goodbye, since he was mute.

If anyone happened to look, they might have seen a note that Agar left, it was for Bill, but bill never got it...it was posted upon a tree. It read...

"Bill, many hard days we have seen, but you have always been loyal to me. I am sorry for the mistreatment and abuse/torture.

If ever you are near Harad, you know where you can find me old friend. Good luck to you."

[greypilgrim]

Red Maw stalks into the area of one inn. He spies a man, picking food out of some pile of garbage. He goes and pounces upon him and eats him quickly. A loud scream raises an alarm nearby, and guards come out to investigate.

One VERY LOUD growl, and then a horrible howl is heard, and soon the guards are no more. He escapes the scene in a mad hurried fashion, and exits the town/city before he could get outnumbered by anybody. Red Maw is insane. He is on the loose.

[Calime Silvana]

Gilbarad grabbed Tarweyn's hand...She wondered at the alacrity of their pace. She tried matching her small strides to his long ones, but eventually gave up, exasperated. "Milord, is it you custom to travel at such a fast rate, or is something wrong?"

[chrysophalax]

"Tarweyn, it is not my custom as you put it, I sense that we should return, that some great evil is loose in the village. It would be a shame if we should fail to meet with it, now wouldn't it?" He slowed his pace and grinned at her. For some reason he found he enjoyed the touch of her hand in his.

"As we walk tell me of yourself, fair one. Your demeanour when first we met was very sombre, almost morbid. You mentioned you were an exile as I am. How did that come about?"

[Calime Silvana]

Pain shadowed Tarweyn's eyes, and she looked down at Gilbarad's hand, now wrapped around hers. "I was not exactly exiled, my lord...I.." Here her voice faltered. "The Southeners came...they killed everyone I loved..and I ran away barely escaping with my own life." Tarweyn's eyes filled with tears.."My twin was killed, my brother Aërandir. We were both 115. I was but a child."

[chrysophalax]

Against his better judgement, Gilbarad took her in his arms and held her a moment. His heart threatened to thaw from the chill that had encased it for longer than he could remember, but he let her go before that could happen.

"Life is hard. People who claim to love and honour you turn on you and leave you torn and bleeding. Never trust anyone. There is no reason in doing so." She looked at him with tear-filled eyes and he looked away quickly.

[Calime Silvana]

Without meaning to, Tarweyn leaned into his embrace. She innwardly chided herself, and then offered her reprieve..She had not been held in so long. She clung to him, a little longer than she had to, and when she looked up at him he quickly looked away. All that he had said..She understood it. Completely. A small gust of wind blew some of his blonde hair back from his face, and she saw there a scar on his left cheek. Exactly like her own. Quite unconsciously, her hand straight away went to her face, touching her own scar. Shame shadowed his eyes, and he turned away so that she would not see. As he turned, she caught his arm, making him face her again, gingerly brought her hand to his face, and touched it tenderly. "Why were you exiled?"

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ránëwén sipped her drink lightly, watching the action in the bar from underneath her black hood. Non could see her face. Hearing the growl and scream, she rose and went to the door. "Weak mortals," she thought, "But at least something exiting is happening. I've been bored for weeks."

[chrysophalax]

He flinched as her fingers touched his skin and his eyes widened at the sensations that touch awakened in him. "Tarweyn, don't. You don't want to know why, trust me. Suffice it to say that I am no longer able to dwell amog my people in Lorien." He held her hand so that she couldn't touch him again and was surprised to see that there was deep hurt in her eyes. In apology, he turned her hand palm up and kissed it lightly. "We must return to the Inn and quickly. Lord Dengen will not wait for long."

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Sooch caer ferr di staeed? ‘T weel coest uoo.”
“Be that as it may. I have heard from your master that you are the most, shall I say, talented in maintaining a steed. I am a generous man where generosity is due.” Goroth said, beaming.
“Noo duots m’lord! I’eel taek sopourb caer!”
“Good my lad.” And as though he made to continue with a phrase he paused, and made two great strides to come directly before the young man. “Though I assure you, I am likewise a lord of ills where ill is deserved.” The young man, his bronze brow knit in concentration, taut with newfound fear, maladroitly stepped backward.
“Aye m’lord.”
“Marvelous.” Goroth heartily clapped the man on the shoulder and with a curt laugh departed from the stables into the harsh mid-day sun, the stable hand left quaking in his midst.

The town’s paths were grown more desolate as those who had not yet converged upon the market did so with the most earnest of alacrity, for the goods never remained in the vender for long if they were in acceptable condition. The town was situated on a rise in the typically level sand saturated plains of South Gondor. The market square was located in what was near to the heart of the town, and thus the highest point within the vicinity of Farmenel. Many of the dirt roads slopped upward at an unfavorable angle, and the yellowed walls of the buildings reflected the sun all about creating, for Goroth, a most unfavorable trek. The avenue he boldly traversed was itself in the most abominable state of disrepair. The barest remnants of stones jutted from amide sand, dirt, and bold greenery (relatively few specimens could maintain survival in such callous climate). There had been, at some point in the town’s ruinous past, an elevated walkway on both sides of the avenues, so as to maintain pedestrians in relative peace of mind concerning possible encounters with mounted riders who, as any aged town loremaster would make plain, rarely slackened their pace, and rarer still paid heed to what was before and below them. Those walkways were in a state of non-existence, their remnants, to Goroth’s fancy, resembling a miniature mountain range bordering the avenue. Goroth was now adorned in ivory vestments, his gray eyes gleaming with a truculent zeal beneath white turban (of a casual sort, not like to those which graced royal heads). Ever more speed, ever a greater need for haste. It would make for a most unfortunate meet if the Dark Lord was belated in his arrival. Assuredly this encounter was under his conditions, his defined time, her location. Goroth mused upon this, arriving to a swift conclusion, Curse this shanty town! It was, however, verging on the comical that the mighty lords of the West, their enormous empire, its doom would be spawned from so degenerate a locale.

He made his way through the throngs of Farmenel’s inhabitants. Raucous laughter, song, dance, bartering, all amalgamated into an unsynchronized, unpleasant romp through the very bowels of the earth. Goroth, however, found his spirits rising amidst this assemblage of the dim-witted dullards, though he would not attest to the fact. The bombastic appearance of some would, invariably, contort Goroth’s features into a smirk. With some troubled probing through the square he at last came upon the inn. The entrance was not blocked by a door of any sort, and the interior dimly lit. A damp scent of spices and ale wafted steadily from the opening, enticing any reveler within the inn’s confines for an assuredly pleasant moment of repose from the merrymaking. As he entered Goroth’s gaze dashed from table to table, grinning overfed countenance to malicious taut visage of an understandably underfed individual. Yet much to Goroth’s consternation, there was no sight of her . With great strides he proceeded towards a table within the darker quarter of the common room. Yet he paused mid-step, for there she sat. Within the slightest moment he was pleasantly seated at her table, glancing towards the entrance of the inn.
“Eredhael.” He spoke the words not in a questioning tone, but as seemingly a directive.

[Tar-Ancalime]

After some minutes of being amused by a local fight for some common whore Artalasse went back into the inn, the strange man folowed.

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ránëwén watched the dark one enter into the inn. He sat by a lady, whom she knew nothing about. She had felt much evil in this place lately. She wondered what was happening, and what was going on. Obviously some plot or michevious plan, but what? She ordered another ale and waited to see what would happen.

[Calime Silvana]

Upon hearing his last words, pain became Tarweyn's countenance. Why had she allowed anything to get in to her? Without another word, she silently headed back for Farmenel, head down.

[chrysophalax]

Sensing that she had closed herself to him, he clenched a fist and cursed himself. "I was a fool to allow her face to haunt my thoughts. No longer." Gilbarad's face set like stone as he lengthened his stride, seeking to put as much distance between himself and Tarweyn as possible.

Images of death and slaughter washed through his mind and he revelled in the rush these images gave him. This was what he was destined for, not love...never love. He longed to return to the Inn and see what task Dengen had waiting. It was his desire that whatever awaited them, this time he might find death.

[Calime Silvana]

Seeing the ever-growing distance Gilbarad was putting between them, Tarweyn steeled herself as waves of pain washed over her mind's shore...Why did it always have to be this way? Trust for a brief instant, and then have it betrayed or discarded..." she thought as the poignant darts caused by his apparent detachment pierced her. She had done something wrong. Very very wrong. "Trying to match his long strides, she finally had to jog. They traveled for a while, and then she halted, yanking on his sleeve, and listening. "Do you hear th-" Her sentence was not completed, for in between the last utterance an arrow zipped by and narrowly missed her left cheek. Farmenel was being ambushed! Keen eyes combing the outermost section of the forest, she discerned a..a being fitting another arrow to his or her bow, and aiming it directly at Gilbarad's head. Tarweyn screamed, and kicked his legs out from under him, as an arrow flew past where his head had just been. More assailants were gathering, and they were in an open field, cloaked by nothing; there was only one thing to do..."RUN!!!" She screamed, snatching him up by his hand and running in the direction from whence they had just came. Tarweyn was oblivious to everything but the wind zinging in her ears, and the hand of the immortal, now in hers. A fleeting look behind her, and she saw what appeared to be a mortal riding towards them with a scary alacrity, sword in his hand, and fire in his eyes. As he reached the runners, he swung a blow at Gilbarad, who ducked down, scarcely missing his temple. Tarweyn had no time to react to what came next, her thoughts were wholly frozen upon the well-fare of Gilbarad...No time to fight when the rider swept her up off of the ground and gave her a swift blow to the side of her head which sent her reeling..The world spun around her, blood began to trickle into her face, and her eyes locked on those of Gilbarad, screaming a silent plea before she faded into shadow...

[chrysophalax]

Gilbarad uttered a cry of rage as he had her hand snatched from his. He sprinted after the fool that had taken Tarweyn, intent on killing him slowly. "Idiot! He's heading for the trees! His horse will never be able to maneuver in there." He grinned wolfishly as he instincts took over, blood-lust filling his mind.

As the man reached the border of the woods he drew rein, seeing how thickly the trees stood. He wheeled the horse around and Gilbarad slowed, then faltered as he saw how limply she lay in his arms. "No....no, she isn't, she can't.." He stood his ground and shouted defiantly at the fool that had dared to harm her. "You want me? Come ahead, madman! This is the day you die, fool!" He crossed his arms and glared at the man, who glanced down at Tarweyn, then dropped her unconscious body on the ground.

"Fool you call me? I will show you to the hall of Mandos myself!" He dug his spurs into his horse's sides and it reared, screaming, then lunged forward. Gilbarad balanced lightly on the balls of his feet and his hand rested on his sword-hilt. He cursed himself silently for leaving his bow at the tavern, but he had no time to think further as the man bore down on him with murderous intent in his eyes. As the rider approached, Gilbarad ducked a vicous blow aimed at his head, then whirled and gutted the horse with a single deep slash.

As the animal went mad with pain, the rider was hurled to the ground and Gilbarad rammed the sword deep into his chest. Shock, followed by Death's cold shadow passed across the man's face. Gilbarad spat on him, then ran to Tarweyn's side, and gathered her in his arms. "Tarweyn? Lovely one, wake up!" He called to her softly, but other than a moan, she didn't speak. He bowed his head over her and rocked her slowly.

[Calime Silvana]

A soft moan esacped Tarweyn's lips, and her eyes dialated when she opened them, pain erupting into them as the light founds its way in. Hurt amalgamated to memory, and memory to fear as she realized what was going on..Gilbarad was fighting this man..the man who had attacked her..She blacked out again, and when she woke up, she was looking into his blue eyes, as he rocked her...In a rage she tried to sit up, but the pain was too much.."WHY?! WHHYY!? Why would you let me live?! I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR. If you would have not saved me then we would have all been the better for it."

[chrysophalax]

Her pain, both physical and emotional nearly blinded him and he gasped with the force of it. "I saved you because you called out to me. Because I didn't want you to killed, foolish woman!" He smoothed her sweat-soaked hair back, then raised her chin so that she would look at him. "Look into my eyes and tell me why I would be better off without you."

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael stared for what seemed like an eternity into the man's eyes. They were deep and dark, hatred embodied in one small area with all the depth that Time could offer. She shivered and withdrew her gaze for a moment to her hands, which were lying on the table, before looking back up. "My Lord Dengen," she said, "welcome!" Then her irritation got the better of her. "You certainly took long enough to get here!" Her eyes flashed for a moment as she glared across the table.

[Calime Silvana]

"I can be of no worth to you. Or anyone. That is why!" Rivulets of blood trickled down her face and into her mouth...The taste brought bile to her throat, bile mixed with blood..Salty and corrosive and sweet. Her breathing grew shallow. "You don't even know me. That is also why. You yourself said that..that.." She couldn't go on..Her words were poisoned barbs. "Thank you for saving me.", she managed. "Sorry if i have inconvenienced you, my lord .I don't know why i acted the way I did. Maybe it was fear..fear to trust you. I have never trusted anyone..So I was just disappointed when you became so indifferent to me."

[chrysophalax]

"Indifferent? Nay, lady, it was my own confusion. I have hated my own people for so long that I have never had any place in my soul for concern, let alone trust. Come, we must get you cleaned up, how can I be seen with a woman who is less beautiful than myself?" He winked at her, then his mouth quirked in a quick smile.

Gilbarad held her close and lifted her easily, he didn't like the colour in her face, she was far too pale and he had no intention of letting her know he was worried. He then began the long walk back into town. "Tell me. What do you intend to do, once we return to Lord Dengen's service?" She looked at him curiously. "What I mean to say is...will you remain with me?" As soon as the question left his lips, he knew she held his future in her hands.

[Calime Silvana]

Tarweyn's breathing became ragged and the ground started to tilt..."I have not trusted our people either...I plan to do whatever Lord Dengen needs. As for me staying with you..." She looked up into his eyes, alarm filling them.."I would..I will stay with you as long as you have need of me..." Her eyelids fluttered.."It is awfully hot, Lord...Maybe we should get inside."

[chrysophalax]

Was she hallucinating? Didn't she realize that they were outside and that he was carrying her back to the Inn as quickly as possible? His concern for her grew as her head fell forward onto his chest, her breathing barely perceptible. He shook her to wake her up, knowing that with a head injury, sleeping was not good.

"Tarweyn... Tarweyn, wake up! Talk to me, tell me something, anything, just don't fall asleep again. I'm taking you back to the Inn to rest, now wake up!"

[Calime Silvana]

The world was a haze...Darkness drifted about her..Shadows floated, though she could not discern them. Gilbarad was shaking her...He is wonderful.. she mused. How kind of him to take her to warm up in the inn. "Tarweyn! Wake up!" The words reverberated in and out of her thoughts...Slowly opening her eyes, she looked up at him and smiled sadly. "They are coming after you, you must leave me and get out of here. There is nothing more you can do. If you do not leave you will diminish. I can't let that happen to you..I..I..lo---won't forget you. Now set me down, I have ointment here that should make me as good as new."

[Calime Silvana]

Pulling a fold of her cloak back, she revealed a small zipper, and upon opening it, took out a small vial, it's crystal facets shimmering rainbow hues. "She tore of a section of her raiment, poured a few of the precious drops on it, and touched it to her head. Where had been a horrible gash, smooth skin now showed. Surprise registered on his face, but he did not ask. Slowly standing up, she tenderly touched the rag to a cut on his arm, his shoulder, and on his right cheek. She pushed his hair back and stared into his eyes..."We could murder these traitors..together, lord.."

[chrysophalax]

He felt something approaching alarm as she continued to babble incoherently. "there is no one in sight. What are you talking about? There are some buildings just up ahead, we will be there soon, so hold on. Soon we'll be back at the Inn and Lord Dengen will see to your comfort." He cringed as he said that for he thought it more than possible that Dengen would want to leave her behind if she were unable to fend for herself.

"Perhaps if I can get her back inside without him...no, that wench that came along with us is sure to tell him. I must think of something else, some other way."

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse espied dengen in the tavern, he found him with another lady, a client perhaps, another comarde at arms . Not wishing to interupt dengen's business she felt the desire to find out more about her new found aquatiance.

"So why do you seek my lord's help?"

[Ol'gaffer]

"I do not seek any help from anyone. I seek work for this town is dreadfully boring and I wish that I could find some work from someone." Aren said looking around, "are you going to bring me to your leader or are we going to look around town again, because if so. I assure you that I've seen it many times already." He said to her sarcastically.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse sighed, "Sir, I assure you, you will meet my lord. He is rather busy and i would not wish to interupt him. I find if you nearly came along you could acheive the same methods as a meeting."

[Calime Silvana]

Tarweyn nodded at him..."I appreciate it..Lord Dengen will no doubt leave me behind, which is why I must get well soon. The vial's contents will have me better in no time at all." Gibarad brought her into a small room and lay her down on the bed. "I am fine, my lord." She stubbornly announced, as though she were reassuring herself rather than him. "I must go and fight..they will come and I won't be ready." She drank more of the potion...She was starting to recover.

[Dengen-Goroth]

Goroth glanced sidelong at Eredhael, a broad grin spreading across his face. The din from the market was increasing gradually, a lively beat meandering through the inn's common room. A sonorous tone quickly took up a chant accompanying the music. Assured rhythmic beats grew from all corners of the market square.
"Had I been prompt, I doubt we would be graced by such performance." Goroth paused, the music was enthralling in many respects. "But now we must discuss more urgent matters, for my companions, I believe, have an air about them which demands prompt action. What have you in mind?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael couldn't help but laugh at Goroth's excuse. It was good to see that this Horror could be amusing! However, his next comment brought her reeling back down to earth. "What do I have in mind?"

Goroth nodded.

"I had in mind a type of allegiance between you and me. Obviously you need all the support you can get. I am interested in giving you that support with as many followers I can by triggering a rebellion here in Gondor."

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Your mind is keener then an elven blade." Goroth's gaze rested upon an amuzingly rotund character who, in a drunken stupor, had slid from his seat and come to a thundering fall. A grim man quickly departed through the entrance, his strides accompanied by the glares of all within the common room. Peculiar habits, these southern folk
"A rebellion in Gondor is, in all respects, necessary. Our alliance will be most fruitfull, I have no doubt. How shall we go about enflaming the western mind? A difficult task I believe."

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Inflaming the western mind, as you put it, will not be easy!" Eredhael began, "You see, the people of Gondor are as proud of their heritage and their history as you are of your deeds and your cause. I do not see swaying any to follow you directly, but instead I can see sowing dissent amongst the nobles of the land until no one knows the truth. They will break up on their own, petty factions fighting against one another for absolutely no reason, though they will not know it." Unlike Dengen, Eredhael's mind and concentration were on the table and the conversation alone, and she felt flattered by the Lord's compliments but tried not to show it.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Truth flows abundantly as a mountain stream from your lips Eredhael. The opulent retreats of western lords will become like to battlegrounds. Indeed it will be promising. Though surely you believe we must press dissent among the peoples, they who, if their lives descend into ills and weak harvests, will bare their fists at their overlords. An intricate web is that which we must weave, and truly it will cling to each and every western." He allowed for a curt laught to escape him. "And they shall weave it more then we ourselves." A slight pause ensued, marked by the frenzied rhythms of the market lay (the chant was describing the plight of some lost lord or other). "It has been made known to me that convoys travel through these lands, few yet rich in valued stones, the fruit of the wealthy. They are escorted, the western Barons are not as scant in mind as I would wish. How many men have you under your command?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael smiled. "Yes, the common folk must weave their own net of deception as well! I look forward to seeing it!" For a moment a cloud fell on Eredhael's sharply-featured face. Then she continued, "No, the peoples of these lands are not idiots in themselves. You will find them to be quite dangerous enemies! However, if the traps are layed subtly and well, the peoples will never notice that they are being caught."

Eredhael took a deep breath before continuing. "I only have a scant following of fifty men at the moment, but I have promising reports that soon my numbers may double."

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Indeed. Cursed wretches!" He reclined slightly and continued, "Fifty is an ample number, though the question is how to put them to use. My preposition is to take under our power, by force, one among those convoys. Though I am filled with doubt, for too great an act could provoke too great a reaction. What word has come to your ear of plot or plan?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael paused for a moment in reflection. "I can almost guarantee that you can ambush one of the caravans and kill all the members of it before you are noticed. It really should not be too difficult, and no one will hear of it. Using the caravan and the ambushed man's name, you should be able to get contact with many of the elite of Gondor. Seeds can be sown from there. As for plot or plan, I have my men working steadily to sow about seeds of my own. New men join my ranks each day." Eredhael's voice carried a small amount of wariness, as though she was testing the waters of an unknown situation.

[greypilgrim]

A great howl was heard afar, screams of terror and mayhem outside the town as the (night?) drew on. Something was afoot, 4 of them to be presice, four feet running madly here and there.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"Much as I had thought to do." Goroth was growing more at ease, the inn was having a very beneficial affect on his temperment. "I have in mind this, though of course it may well be changed as time progresses. A caravan shall be passing near here within a number of days. Precedding it will be a column of soldiers who are on their way to a post somewhere southward. The Western Lords are grown unsettled by the southernlands, they pose too great a risk it seems. We shall encounter those ill-fated souls and make use of their armor. This will allow for us to encounter the caravan as allies, an take them all the more at surprise when we do proceed to launch this assualt. What think you?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

A slow grin spread across Eredhael's face. "It seems that we think a lot alike, my Lord!" she said softly, a gleam in her dark eyes. "I think it's a wonderful idea . . . as long as we plan carefully. We have to make sure that we know the number of these soldiers and that we sufficiently outnumber them. I'd prefer to lose absolutely no men at this point." Eredhael's voice stated the fact in a cold, hard tone. "So, as long as we know that we can completely swamp them in ambush without any casualties ourselves, I'm happy. The rest will be ingenious!"

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ranewen approached the table. The conversation between the great lord and the lady stopped. She bowed low, then spoke in low, but clear tones, "Lord, forgive my rude intrusion. I seems that something may be afoot, for no great lord meets with a lady to have a casual dinner." Her lips curled. She took out her black sword and lay it on the table, the hilt toward Lord Dengen, "My services and alliance I give to you lord. May you use them as you may." She wasn't really sure why she was lending her services so freely, but there was something about the two of them...

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse looked at her dark, and concise companion, "Hmm...seems you can introduce yourself...I'm sure you know who he is."

[chrysophalax]

As Tarweyn recovered, Gilbarad descended the stairs and entered the common room, intent on finding some food to take back up to her. Instead he found that most of the others had convened and were being joined by a newcomer, who's attitude looked to match that of the Elf-wench who constantly igniored him. He grinned at their leader as he headed back up the stairs, ale and broth in hand.

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ranewen turned to her. "Were you addressing me?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael leaned back and surveyed the girl interrupting her discussion with Goroth. A small, sly smile curved her lips. Whatever did the girl want? She was offering her services . . . well good! But now? Important conversations were not easily interrupted, and the interruptions not easily forgiven. At least she and Goroth had already covered most of the points that needed covered! A slight sigh of agitation escaped Eredhael's lips.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"I am pleased to find that we have reached an agreement. I am confident within the prowess of those who have come with me, with few exceptions. What lays heavy on my mind is just how much longer we shall spend in this town " Goroth slowly reclined.

[CelebrianTiwele]

The two obviously were annoyed at her intrusion. She calmly awaited the Lord and Lady's approval. She made it clear she would not leave until she had an answer.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael spared only a momentary glance for the girl. "My Lord," she said, "I'm afraid you will have to stay in this town for a while longer. Our caravan does not pass near here until then. But we should, of course, leave a little early." Here words were carefully chosen, so that unwanted ears could not report what was being said.

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ranewen was slightly indignant at being ignored. These two were greater than her, she knew that. But she was also a great warrior. It hurt her pride to be scoffed at. She wasn't going to leave, but she wasn't going to stand there like a slave girl either. Uncomfortable for the first time in quite awhile, she turned to a bar maid to pay her bill while the lady continued.

[Dengen-Goroth]

"If it must be so, it must be so." Goroth began to rise hesitantly.
"Come, I must gather those who have come with me. They will be most intregued to discover who it was I had spoken to them of." Goroth slowly strode towards the entrance and paused, awaiting Eredhael.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Eredhael smiled and, with a deliberate movement, stood up from the table. She stretched for a brief moment so as to appear unrushed, for as well as she thought the interview with Goroth had gone, she felt that she still needed to be wary around him.

Upon their rising, Eredhael noticed that a few people in the room stirred as though awaiting something in an honored silence. She could tell that many people wished so speak out their thoughts, but that they were holding back out of a fearful respect. What would she do to have that much respect! Eredhael's eyes gleamed for a moment with hope.

"Come, my lady," Eredhael said suddenly behind Ranewen, "the Lord Goroth awaits his people to gather around. Perhaps now he can give you your due attention?" Her voice seemed completely respectful. Respectful sounds were what was needed when amassing followers . . . make them want to follow you first and then forever seal their fate.

[CelebrianTiwele]

Ranewen sheathed her sword and followed after them. She put her hood back over her head to conceal her face. She gave a low whistle as they entered the street. Eáránë, her black steed, trotted to her, throwing her head gaily.

[Calime Silvana]

Upon hearing a soft knock on the door, Tarweyn quickly clasped the brooch on a misty grey cloak and ran her fingers through her hair. She threw open the door.."I'm ready to go." She announced and smiled at him demurely. Noting the shocked surprise in his countenance, Tarweyn inquired, bemused, "Did you not believe that the elvish medicine would work??"

[Ol'gaffer]

His guide spoke finally, "I suppose you can introduce yourself now." Aren nodded, he looked at the man that had come before them and bowed slightly. "I am Aren Shadowmind, I'm seeking for work and you seem to be the best thing I can find from here. So I ask you, will you accept me?" He stared into the mans eyes and would not look away.

[BlackCaptain]

Nefnarion Barrow-King stood utop a barrow in the fall of the 12th year of the fourth age. A grey mist surounded all the land, and Nefnarion became just a shadow among shadows in a whisping world of grey. His great black cape blew hither and thither in the rushing winds and Nefnarion turned his head with a sigh. He then found the strength in him to lift his foot and start upon his journey, most likely never to return to his throne at the foothills of Carn Dûm. The grass was grey, the sky was grey, the air was grey, and Nefnarions cold heart was grey. Reluctantly, he set out on his quest to become the greatest Smith since Telchar, forger of the Sword of Kings, forger of Angrist, and the greatest dwarf the world had ever known.

[greypilgrim]

Wizard was wondering who the hobbit (OLGaffer) was askin about work to...then saw the dwarf stand up on the hill and said...a smithy! *checks on my bades all but one*..."maybe I have work for you soon, eh?"

Wizard just wandered around a little bit away from those about the area, by hisself for today. But soon maybe, very soon, he had a mind to understand one or two or more of those people about himself, til then he'd just wander around minding his own biusness. Walks past some benches and sits down, goes around some paths and sits down, walks around frustrated for a second, then lies down. Walks around a bit more..."what the...I need a new cane!"...finds one. Has seen alot of strange things lately.

-->NEFNARION is a dwarf???

[BlackCaptain]

**Of course not! It says Barrow King, and Telchar was the greatest smith of all time IMO, and Nefnarion wants to become as good as him.**

[Ol'gaffer]

OOC: Uh, Greypilgrim, read the posts. Aren is a half elf who wishes to join the dark legion for the time being.

[Tar-Ancalime]

Artalasse watched with intrest, or rather she looked at Aren's introduction as it was the only thing of real interest in the area. She knew soon they would depart and as the group would travel on more and more would join, discontent with dismal shares of power and tired of a dull, boring life. This uprising prooved to have great promise in her mind. Maybe this dark lord would succeed...

[greypilgrim]

who's the "dark lord"?

[greypilgrim]

greypilgrim is "logging off" the TTF for a while...probably until around the Two Towers Extended Edition DVD comes out.

Craig (me) will be signing in under a new name sometime soon, trying to keep it secret this time (remember "Jester").
*I belong to the Dark Legion*sshhh, don't tell anyone!:D

PS: send greypilgrim private messages! he likes those...