Minas Tirith, Pelennor, The Northern Fiefdoms (Free RP)

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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Lossarnach

The water, freshly drawn from the well, was rather cold, and yet it felt pleasantly refreshing on Pele's face, as she splashed generous amounts of it - she might have just as well plunged her whole head in the bucket. Straightening up, she stood and took a few deep breaths, satisfied to let the breeze dry her face and watching the birds play in the nearby bush as they hopped around and chirped merrily. She could have stood here much longer, happy simply to be, and yet a slight shiver that ran through her body told her that it was no longer the heat of summer and she should get inside. In a light step, Pele walked back towards house and headed for the kitchen, following the scent of fresh pancakes.

"Why, the whole neighbourhood is filled with the aroma of pancakes," she stated, coming to a stop in the doorway and leaning against the doorpost in a leisurely manner. "Do you want to lure in all the travellers from the near vicinity?"

Mother responded with a quiet laugh, as she placed yet another deliciously golden-coloured pancake on top of a rather big pile that was already heaped on a plate. "Did you sleep well, Pele?"

"Yup, great, with an extra warmer in a form of Pepper," the Ranger responded, and it was quite true: she had enjoyed quite an uninterrupted stretch of sleep for once, and felt extraordinarily refreshed.

"Dad will soon return from taking care of the animals, and then we can have breakfast," mother said, and then continued: "When did you say you will have to leave again? Tomorrow already?"

"Mmm. Not the long vacation this time," Pele replied, a slight undertone of reluctance barely heard in her voice. She had not told her parents that she had chosen to spend most of her other days off elsewhere, but she knew that they were likely aware of it. And yet, despite all the reasons she had conjured up not to come home, it did feel good and right, and relaxing to the point she now wanted to stay longer.

Having made sure the last pancake was properly done, mother took the big plate with the whole tower of pancakes and placed it on the table, and then readied the other necessary items. "Have you thought of moving here, Pele? You could finish the part of the house that you and Maldir had started to rebuild, and..." her voice trailed off, when the loud noise from the front door told them that morning errands had been accomplished.

"I have, mum," Pele said, as she now leaned into her father instead of against the doorpost when he came up from behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her neck gently. "But I am not ready to retire just yet; it would be a pain to travel back and forth with most of my duties in the city. Besides..." she paused for a while, considering her words carefully. "I have enemies. Don't want to bring them here..."

"Who said they would fare well if they dared to come?" father's voice boomed almost in Pele's ear, as he now urged her towards the table. "But you do know that we won't press you, though we would happily have you around here more often."

"I know, dad, I know," Pele agreed, sweeping up Pepper from the chair he had occupied and putting him down on the floor as she sat down. The cat was not happy of being dethroned in such an undignified manner and promptly jumped back, right into Pele's lap.

"Oh bother..." she rolled her eyes, petting the cat who curled up contentedly to continue his interrupted nap. Not that Pele minded such attention terribly, and she could not help but savour the moments when she did not have to feel the heavy burden of responsibility and could even play a child to some level and to her parents' satisfaction.
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Born Under a Bad Sign

Falaneth with Aderic, 'Dina' and Bram
Outside the Library, Second Circle


Details...details are the difference between a case getting solved and going cold. If not for the grim situation she was in, she might have laughed. She wanted to scream or to cry but could not let them see. Why did the details matter in this case and no one cared when it had mattered to her? Was it because the evidence of this crime was out in the open for all to see rather than tucked away quietly in a private home? Was it because this body was ravaged and made into a disgusting display of hatred rather than the one that held no mark upon his skin, killed from the inside out by an insidious poison?

“Is Papa..dead?” The girl asked.

Falaneth’s stomach sank as if a rock had filled the empty space. He couldn’t be, he was not...was he her father?

The girl was there and then she was gone, so fast on her light little feet. Falaneth watched her go and expected one of the guards to immediately give chase. When they didn’t, she gave both men looks of horror. Did they have any common sense at all? “Please go after her!” she chimed in. “I mean, if that man was her father...he’s not going anywhere, is he?” It was cold. And true. But the living needed help and the dead were already gone. A fact she knew very well. For a moment, she stared at the body covered in the cloak. She could still see fragments of the carnage in her mind’s eye. Branches and bones. Who would do such a thing? If that man was the girl’s father, Falaneth owed it to her to do what little she could to help them find the murderer. To give her a chance at what she would never get herself: justice and truth.

“I’ll answer your questions,” she told Bram softly. “But please, I need to sit down.” Searching for a space free of bodily fluids or shrouded corpses, Falaneth climbed up the lower steps toward the library entrance and sat in the shade. With her knees pulled up to her chest, she wrapped her hands around her ankles and sat with her shoulders hunched. “Yes…” The word came out resigned, defeated, toneless. “I work at the library. I am due to start the opening shift this morning. I walk this way often, even on my days off, and I have never seen anything like this...and I did not see anyone fleeing the scene when I got here. The street was quiet. There was no one here. What else do you wish to know?"

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Carpe Diem – Part 10

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Unalmis Raxëlilta
on the road to the Southern Gate/Harlond Harbour
with Cadil @Pele Alarion

Running about when there is no cause makes sure that we’ll be able to run without slumping to the ground in sweat, when there is need,Unalmis shrugged, even as Cadil seemed to find his propositions hard to swallow. His grumbling companion had brought several complaints as well as a picnic, serving up only the former to Unalmis. The young Ranger though was not so easily discouraged, and had quite convinced himself that Cadil couldn’t be entirely against their adventure, else he would not have come running at all.

That is a clever way to lighten your load,” he laughed, as his friend proceeded to consume things far less hard to swallow. “Stop the cart ?!Nal gasped, and only the noise of their lumbering transport kept the driver from doing just that. “Well of course not. That would be a short expedition if we didn’t even make it out of the Pelennor ! Why, I’d stay low, see where it went, catch them red-handed and all their associates at that !

The young Ranger propped himself up on elbows, and turned to see Cadil finally complete refuelling his stomach, then consider a jest of his own. “What if there are ?” he walked his one hand provocatively under the covered mystery goods, and glanced back at his unwilling accomplice. “Haven’t you ever seen a corpse before ?

The question escaped him before memories caught up. Of the sailors from Lond Col, piled in a growing heap, sagitally sawn in half for the sake of the temple sacrifice, of the strange tremor which had possessed his grandmother’s face as she clutched her chest in mid protest that she would not flee from her perfectly clean house so that Orcs could lay waste to it .. somehow that memory was worse than the other. Somehow it was several moments before Unalmis shook himself off and, having lain prone and quite untypically silent for several minutes, his face froze to a pale mask as though some unseen touch beneath the covers had made a corpse of him too, ..... suddenly jumped up with a reckless shout.

There is the South Gate !” he triumphed, even as the driver of their cart turned around, reined in his humble nag with the beginnings of cursing and campaigned to catch the stowaways.

Remember when I said the running before was essential practice for a real need to run ?Nal really ought not to have laughed aloud, but it was the best way he knew to shake off the otherwise oppressive thoughts which threatened to overwhelm him. There was no time now for that.

Grasping for Cadil’s wrist with a hand of urgent fingers, Unalmis showed the way to leap down from their unpaid ride, and head for the growing crowd there queueing to pass through to Harlond Harbour. Every other traveller was bemoaning the vast horde with their shoving and swearing under the hot sun. The Pelennor Fayre had clearly swollen passage both in and out of the gate, but there never had been a better provision of camouflage. “This way !Nal threw the vain hope of his friend hearing and following him, over one shoulder. It took literally moments for those behind the furious driver to call him back to mind his cart and keep from holding up the line any longer. By which time he'd lost the youths to a hasty headstart.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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@Ercassie
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Ademar Androllius,
(Impersonating Aderic Androllius, Lieutenant of the Tower Watch)
Posted at the South Gate

The news had spread throughout Gondor, that a fayre was coming up. People would be coming from all over to attend this thing. For many, it was a thing to look forward to, something to help restore a bit of normalcy after the war, and all of that. For Ademar, it posed a possible chance to catch the theif he had been hunting for for so long. He had no guarantee, of course, that she would be there. But there was a good chance that if people were coming from far away to go to this once a year event, then maybe, just maybe, she would risk going too. Maybe she would think that, in all the crowds, she would be safe from detection. Maybe, he would get lucky. And so he had to make sure that he was there, just in case. He had to make sure that he was in a position to watch everyone who came and went through the gates into the Pelennor. He would be the primary gate guard during the fayre.

It would be dull, of course, but if it achieved his goal, it would be worthwhile. And so he’d arranged it, very carefully. First, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant, he had gone to the man in charge of the duty roster, and volunteered for the post, for the entire month. It would only affect him for the time of the fayre.. the rest of the weeks, it would be Ric’s problem. And knowing his mild-mannered twin, Ric would never dream of complaining about being assigned such a post… he’d never make a peep to anyone about wondering why he got stuck with gate duty, and therefore would not be informed that he’d requested the post. There would be no questions arising about the matter, because Ric was so terribly predictable, at least to his twin brother.

Next, came the more complicated part. Forging the false leave papers, giving Ric the days off that Mar needed for taking his place. It wasn’t hard, just required a lot of care to make sure it appeared authentic, and in this, there was some risk that Ric may tell someone, out of surprise or joy, about having so many days’ leave. But again, he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t have very many friends, and would not be likely to have anyone to tell his good news to. The only friend Ric had ever had was dead now, after all.

Mar made sure that the papers about the fake leave didn’t reach his brother until as late as possible, so that he wouldn’t have much time to tell anyone, and then, to his relief, Ric left town eagerly. Mar didn’t care where he went, so long as he stayed gone for the duration of his “leave”. That helped minimize his chances of being seen in two places at once. Once Ric was out of the way, it was beyond easy to take his place. Few in Minas Tirith knew that there were two Androllius brothers.. he suspected that Ric didn’t talk about him very much, and they’d gone through their basic training elsewhere.

And then came the dull, tedious work of scrutinizing every face that passed his gate. A job no one really wanted, as it was duller than watching a tree grow. Ric’s CO must have been astonished when he volunteered for the post, as he probably usually had to force someone to take the job. Had Mar not had a reason for studying every face that came by him, he probably would have been ignoring his duties, but he had to pay very close attention. This was not something he trusted anyone under his employ with, either. That didn’t make any less boring, and he was inwardly sighing with boredom as he watched the idiots flooding in through the gates, eager to go and see a bunch of jugglers and blow all their money on the rigged games to win things they could buy outright, at a tenth of the amount they’d probably end up spending. His main focus was on those entering, but he also didn’t let anyone slip out without first passing his scrutiny.

Somewhere down the line, he saw the disturbance as one of the wagons halted, and the driver started to give chase to a couple of young men. The fake guard rolled his eyes, turning back to his study of each face. Those matters didn’t concern him. Though, if he was right, he thought he might have recognized one of those two, from their childhood days, and his manipulative mind began turning, wondering if he could make use of this information in any way. He’d noticed a wall of posters listing potential troublemakers, and those who weren’t allowed through the gate.. If they were trying to sneak out, he wondered why.. and if he ought to stop them. Perhaps he could benefit from it somehow. He thought on it as he stopped another wagon, quickly searching inside…for his thief, not anything those watching might think he was searching for. Once his search was complete, he waved them through and checked the next one, all the while halfway keeping an eye out for the two who had tried sneaking out. If nothing else, it could add a bit of amusement to his otherwise boring day.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Cadil, adventuring with Unalmis
South Gate and whereabouts

@Ercassie

"Sure I have seen corpses, bleeding and slashed ones in the battle," Cadil muttered, as he remembered the one skirmish he had managed to take part in before he dropped out of all matters military. "Not sure I wanna see any today..."

He looked at Nal to see whether he found something suspicious in the cart and nearly held his breath while his friend had suddenly fallen silent. The following sudden shout made Cadil nearly jump out of his skin - and out of the cart.

"What did you have to do that for?" he asked, reproach clear in his voice, but there was no time to consider it any further. He barely managed to snatch his bagful of provisions, as Nal pulled him off to escape the cart owner that now was fully aware of them and came after them.

Supposedly they would not have gotten through the gate on the cart either way, but Cadil would have preferred to depart from their transport in a more peaceful way. Now that he tried to keep up with his friend again, the food he had just feasted on felt rather heavy in his stomach, and he began to regret eating so much. A loud burp escaped him, as he finally shouldered his pack now that the pursuit was no longer hot on their heels.

"Think they'll let us through?" he asked, quite sure that they might still be on the list of persons to be prohibited from leaving the confines of Rammas Echor. Though... at least he no longer was related to the military and hoped that this was a good enough reason to take him off the list of mischief makers.
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Carpe Diem – Part 11

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Unalmis Raxëlilta
at the Southern Gate/Harlond
with Cadil @Pele Alarion @Rillewen


Aside from the Great Gate which sat at the entrance to Minas Tirith’s First Circle of the city, there were three gates set into the Rammas Echor boundary wall; each of them at the end of one of the three roads through the Pelennor Fields. The North Gate, known as Forannest, was the furthest from the city itself and had an unfortunate habit of being destroyed. Ingold and his company had barely managed to repair it in time to face invasion during the War of the Ring, and the Enemy took very little time to devastate it in the days that followed, thankfully so that the Rohirrim could also access the Pelennor and provide much needed aid to their beleagoured ally. At one time it’s crumbling shambles of a state had provided the most accessible path for adventurous youths to leave the Pelennor and explore the wider world, but the renewed construction since the Return of the King meant it was now perhaps stronger than ever. There were clearly thoughts of fortifying it’s passage between Gondor and Arnor in the far north-west.

The second, the Eastern Gate had a tendency to be known as the Causeway Gate, being that it was defended by a causeway fort on either side of it. This way led through the reputedly haunted ruins of Osgilliath, and into the wilds of Ithilien woodland, where Prince Faramir ruled. Rangers used this channel rather constantly, and the forts were well manned. The Enemy had traditionally sat in the East, after all, so besides being so well used, that portal was the most guarded. Lately parties had begun to explore the state of the shattered river city, with thoughts of returning it to former glory. But the Northern gate had won the need for first attention, and the cemetery streets that lay shrouded behind the second gate still waited in the wings for the stonemasons.

Then there was the final gate, the South gate, sometimes called the Harlond gate or the Harbour gate. It was not as established as the other two, but had been founded years later since a series of assaults on Pelargir to the South, and an increase in the underhand influence of criminals seeking easy passage in and out of Minas Tirith by way of the mighty Anduin. To raid this far upriver was a far more subtle threat than the corsairs who openly pillaged the coasts of Belfalas and Anfalas. Here, in Harlond, it was a veritable war between the sneaky smugglers and the bureaucratic red tape of overzealous portmasters. The South Gate though was a mere league from Minas Tirith proper, which raised it’s appeal. Also, the guards here had a far more difficult time of it, arguing of overseeing all the exports and imports that passed their post; the busiest means of supplying the White City with goods from the prosperous Southern fiefdoms.


Unalmis had no need these days to sneak out of the city. Technically he was grown to adulthood and thus any outstanding warrants that he and his friends had earned whilst underaged ought to be moot point. The prospect though of sneaking out was more a matter of principle, not only because of false reports of dog-theft (which Beren had promised his Paw Patrol were taking care of by discrediting the dishonest plaintiff) but because it had been a while since the young Ranger had needed to try to sneak out of anywhere. So clearly, it required testing whether he still could. One could never be certain when this skill might be essential, and Cadil certainly needed a run through of putting any effort into anything at all.

Not that Nal could not spin out an ‘explanation’ to entice his friend toward mischief. Cadil was correct that they could not have made it through the gate, stowed as they had been upon the back of an oblivious driver’s cart. But it had spared them the walking of that distance and brought the more reluctant of the pair further from home at greater speed, which furthered chances that he would not simply give up and go back.


Well the whole point of the thing was for him to learn, too late, that he’d given us a free ride,Unalmis took a moment once they’d dodged and woven through the crowd to a place they could draw breath. The driver had returned his attention to his cart and was now causing more delay and more shouting as he checked the back where they had been sat. He would of course find only crumbs to mark that they’d ever been present. So the young man admonished his friend, for assuming that his entirely reckless act of shouting loudly had been quite as reckless as it of course had.

It was entirely deliberate,Nal shrugged as the line finally started moving back on course again. “Tell a guy like that to take care nobody has stowed away upon his cart, and he would only have told us to mind our own business. But since he now knows that somebody had in fact stowed upon his cart, it clearly could even happen to him, he will surely take steps to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Noone likes to be made a fool twice. And honestly we’ve done him quite a favour, for we meant no harm and didn’t rob or damage his luggage. Anybody who does try to do him harm in the future, he will be far more prepared to thwart. We're protecting the people, Cadil. Annnnd I’ve spared you having to walk so far,” he threw in this last, convinced it would impact upon Cadil far more than the rest of the spiel he’d made up on the spur of the moment.

As to his friend’s new concern that they would be stopped at the gate. “Probably,” he considered. “Is it really worth risking it though ?” he tapped a finger on his chin, and scrutinised what he could see of the gate guard in person. It was hard to gain any clue if they were likely to be recognised, or what level of complaint the unhappy warden at their post was likely to present. Leaning in a little more clandestine, he outlined what his friend might wish he had misheard .. “Come on, I think there’s a part of the wall over here, where we can use an old tree stump to climb high, and clamber over the top ..

He led the way, basing his rather vain hope that Cadil might come with, on his vast experience of once having friends who would have (by contrast) literally raced him there to try it first. Or at least who would have showed the same lack of disregard as he, for how in fact they'd get down on the other side without injury.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Cadil, seeking adventures with Unalmis
Near Southern Gate

@Ercassie , @Rillewen

"Well... If he does learn - he might be more careful from now on, but it would also rob us of the possibility to get a free transport with him again," Cadil noted, though there was not much regret in his voice. There were plenty of wagons going back and forth, and they could always just make arrangements and not play 'free-riders'.

At the mention of not having to walk this far Cadil only muttered something illegible, unsure of whether such a venture was any good at all. Somewhere along his lazy and boring life he had lost the spark he used to have. He was unsure though, that such a loss caused his father any less grief: instead of causing adventurous kind of trouble he now had ended up idling away and wasting money and time on nothing.

He kept a few steps behind Nal, glancing at the height of the wall, and the trees, and wondering whether any bough would be strong enough to hold up both him and his luggage; and whether he had enough strength in his arms to pull himself up.

"You know..." he said thoughtfully. "There better be a tree on the other side too, else we'd be stuck on top of the wall until guards shoot us down with their arrows." Cadil ran the sleeve along his forehead to erase the signs of effort he had been putting in to keep up with his friend. "What do you say we drop by some pub in Harlond for a mug of ale?" he asked hopefully. "We'd end up thereabouts either way, right?"
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Nelladel, leaving the bakery in a bit of a aggitated huff...

Don't be such a silly girl Nell, simply march right over there and speak your mind.

Sounded easy didn't it? Not so! She'd practically wore holes in her shoes pacing and talking to herself as well as arguing with herself over what to do. Why even bother?
Her train of thought leading her to every possible scenereo and what she would do if the reaction was not as she hoped. She chewed on her lower lip in contemplation.

Go...she made two steps....Don't go...she paused midstep...Oh for Bemas sake!! You are a grown adult! Go!! She grumbled under her breath as her feet nearly stomped in their intended direction.

It seemed irritation and frustation with oneself made the distance between shops go much faster because she had to stop abruptly when she reached the shop door. She seemed to have froze in her place as her green eyes peered into the doorway. One more step and she would be commited to her task...one step back and she could go back to her shop with no one the wiser of her even being here. Indecision caused her hands to wring in her apron.

She could feel herself shifting her weight onto her back foot as if getting ready to turn and run for self preservations sake but then she closed her green eyes and took a deep breath. Calming herself yet steeling herself for the next step, literally. She forced her hands still, even brushing at the apron to smooth the wrinkles and then to her dark hair should there be any evidence of her baking this morning.

Should have brought some bread. The thought whipped through her mind before she could dismiss it. No, she wasn't here to offer baked goods! She was here to speak her mind and at least get things off her chest... maybe then she would sleep at night.

She straightened her stance, her hand reached up to knock on the wooden doorframe as she crossed it's threshold.

"Addhor, are you here?"
She called out. Her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dimness of being inside while she momentarily enjoyed the smell of the wood shavings from the various woods they worked with.

@Ercassie (If Addhor wants nothing to do with Nell then she'll just pay for her shelves and leave. LOL)
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Addhor Raxëlilta with Nelladel Alarion
@Isolde Alarion


The sun broke through the window, shadowing a laughter of light on the wall within. It frolicked there a time, time enough that the man caught up a glance from his work and rested for a while in watching. But a smile took him back toward his focus, and with no begrudging. It had been that sort of day.

Today’s toil was not the same old usual. This was a treat and so it’s preparation was a labour of love, and a longstanding habit, almost instinctual at this point of his life. For acorn coffee was a somewhat acquired taste, common enough in Rangers who had relied on it’s flavour to keep them out in the forest. And certainly when it came to essential alternatives. There was no alcohol to be found on tour out in Ithilien. And now there was none either to be found in his home of the city. So needs must and the healthier of habits had taken priority. Most folk did not care for the time that it took to shell the nuts, and leach them in cold water to wash out the acrid tannin. There were arguments for boiling water, to win even a small amount of speeding up the process, but in his experience this could sometimes lock in the bitter tang. So the drawn out matter of the thing was necessary. And now that he had come to the point of grinding the mast harvest with mortar and pestle, there were come the beginnings of a seductive scent. Progress was promised. And the waiting was perhaps the way to make it seem all the more worthwhile.

It had been a satisfyingly slow day, which was to say that Addhor had managed to lose himself in his work without much interruption. He might have even believed that he was troubling with his tools for no sake other than his own idle enjoyment. So the sound of somebody arriving downstairs then, saw him lower the well-worn kitchen utensils with slight regret and consider the descent. By the time that Nelladel had made it properly inside the store, her host had pushed apart the door that led to the apartment upstairs. That he had not thought to turn the front sign or lock the shopdoor when he had gone upstairs, proved that the extravagance of his coffee had stole much of his senses. Still, of all the intruders he might have found to take advantage of his absence, she was surely the most pleasant.


I am here,” the man agreed, finding the baker rather than some unknown customer waiting, and finding also his voice, though the latter rather belatedly in lieu of her stealing his attention with this surprise. It was always nice to see her and so he tended to anticipate their spending of time together. But having had no time to manage that this day, he somehow turned to close the door behind him and catch up, like an actor with no prompt to hand. Was this the first time she had been inside the store ? Conscious of the very modest and mundane surroundings, he had not yet even taken time to sweep up, Addhor glanced about for things he ought straighten up.

I was just .. well, it is no matter.” The risk of boring Nell with talk of acorn cuisine loomed on the horizon, so the man took a breath and started anew. Taking time to haul a couple of chairs back against the wall out of her way, Addhor was robbed of other obstacles. “You are here.” He smiled, less surprised now, more receptive and rather than repeat the observation, tried a new line of conversation. “What can I do for you ?
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Nelladel Alarion w/ Addhor Raxelilta

Her inquiry was answered rather quickly, really more so then she expected causing her to hault not far inside the shop as he appeared from behind a door. A pleasent yet earthy aroma followed him for a brief moment before it was wisked away on a breeze as he closed the door. She watched him clear some chairs out of the way and smiled as he commented that she was indeed there. Her smiled matched his own as he asked what he could do for her. This is where her smile faded abit as her purpose came to the forefront of her mind again. How to start? At the begining she reasoned would probably be best.

"Well, I need only take up abit of your time, I know you to be a busy man." She looked up at him and smiled weakly before she noticed her hands were once more fiddling with her apron to which she instantly stopped and turned away toward one of his work benches. Inwardly mindful of any sharp instrument, the fingers of her right hand moved in appreciation over the worn wooden work table and finding a few stray curls of wood, evidence of his hard work, she seemed to be examining it as she started to talk.

She wasn't even sure how to voice her thoughts, they seemed to be jumbled in her mind. Each word wanting to be the first to be heard. "Firstly, I must apologize to you." At these words she looked at him, the sincerity in her words reflecting in her green eyes. She raised her hand slightly to ask him to hold any thoughts he might have at that statement. "I never ment to harm you but it seems with my actions of the past I fear I have greatly caused such and for that I will be eternally and deeply sorry. " She had to look away at this point, her eyes cast down to the bench for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. Best to finish what she came for before all her courage escaped her.

She straightened her back and raised her chin, steeling her courage as she did so. "And another thing, just so you know..which I'm sure you do by now...I called things off with Beren. Best to have the truth between us then to try to force that which doesn't come naturaly, at least on my part. I couldn't find space in my heart for him because it was already filled by another."

When she stopped talking she felt abit embarassed for what she felt was rattling on, not giving the poor man a chance to get a word in edgewise.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Addhor Raxëlilta with Nelladel Alarion
@Isolde Alarion


His smile faltered in an echo of her own but Nell went further, turned away from even looking him in the eye. And it was as though the sun was suddenly concealed by a cluster of cloud. A hand quivered at Addhor’s hip, holding back from the selfish want to reach out and spin her at the shoulder, for if she was upset, clearly it was he that had upset her. Busy she said. Come she had. Because he had not .. he had not come to her. How long ? Too long. Because he had claimed that he was ‘busy’. Busy because … well, there had been reasons, there must have been countless campaigns of careful considerations for raw feelings which he had fought in the silence of the days that had passed by. But every single one of those important reasons dissipated under the beacon gleam of those green eyes. She seemed as desperate to leave as she sounded determined to stay so he went just as quietly as he was able to the store window, and turned the sign to deny anyone from interrupting. He did not turn the lock, with no want to sow the fear that she might be kept against her will. She had the right to speak her piece and in doing so perhaps have peace, for it seemed she was the only one with the courage to do so.

In moments she found him anew and with an apology, the raised hand bidding him to wait until she’d explained why. He had not known quite what to expect but he had from the first, asked what could he do for her, and the answer seemed to be, to listen. Once Nell was finished, it didn’t seem yet entirely done, but still enough had been laid out between them that some reaction, however slight and wary at this point, ought be returned. Speaking about any of that sort of thing, .. was not a thing Addhor had ever been much good at. Which was probably the reason that things had been allowed to carry on as long as they had. But he could not now say nothing, not after she had said something.

He told me,” was the reluctant confession. For she was ‘sure he must know by now’, but what she probably wasn’t sure of was why he’d done absolutely nothing about it, all the time since that he’d known. “Not in plain words, not at first, though his actions made quite evident the disappointment.Beren had always worn his heart upon his sleeve, and so it had been very clear too when time had offered up some means of consolation. At least for one of them. “I was and am very sorry,Addhor managed, slowly dragging the treacherous words up the height of his throat. For he had tried to be sorry, and in some state he had been. For it had all been for naught in the end. And that seemed the sorriest of situations for all those concerned. “For you both,” an effort was made to express himself, though the words were as a language he had only read in books and never spoke aloud. “I know how dearly you had hoped for a different outcome. The reality can not have been an easy blow for any heart to receive, nor indeed to deliver.

The sensation of speaking so, honestly, when he had grown accustomed to holding all within, was not unlike finding himself suddenly unclothed, or else exposed and vulnerable. And he was just now recognising quite why he did not do this .. But it was too late. He couldn’t leave it as far as they’d brought it, without bringing it to the conclusion that she must crave, to have come at all. And so, he grasped behind him with hands for the wall, for something solid, to keep from feeling that he was falling.

It is likely me that owes you the apology,” he endeavoured to raise up the mumble, to make the words real in their being heard outside of his own head. “And not only for being such a coward that you have been forced to come here today and speak of the intolerable silence.” One hand found the handle of the door at his back, but there was no thought of flight. A deep breath allowed for the cascade of truth that tumbled gradually out of his tongue afterwards. And with each word expressed were the man’s insides slowly untangled. Until he must feel that he had birthed a mighty beast of a burden which had languished inside eating away at him unseen for far too long.

What hurt I have been dealt in this was my own doing. This time," deep breath .. "it was me that walked away when I ought to have stepped up, or said … well, something at all might have probably been a good idea.” A small step trialled lessening the gap which separated them. The unswept floor might as well have been a wide sea, with them each individually bobbing in a small boat, shouting into the stomach of a deafening wind. “All I ever wished for you was to be happy Nell. And if you say your heart is satisfied, please know that mine is too to hear it.

One hand escaped from behind him to either make some move or clap belatedly over his lips, but the other hand clasped it away just in time, and then both clasped so tight together before his chest that either one looked fit to break at the joints. They came apart, fitfully falling back to either side, only to rise, and fall again.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Fuin Elda
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

She hadn't escaped the House of Healing this time, though she wasn't there today she had a chaperone and her her dagger just in case. Which had made Fuin pout a little though the young nurse stayed back a fair ways from the elven woman to try to give her the feeling that she had 'escaped from her bonds' At least the healers had talked her into trying this why they were working on healing the wounds that still plagued her mind as the wounds that had brought her to the House of Healing at this point were now little more than scars well tended and faded to almost nothing at all.

She caught sight and heard some barking fool talking about an elven mithril sword and headed to see this. Short of it being some stolen artifact there was no chance a smith had made something like that recently. There was not enough mithril to do anything of the sort, and mithril tended to lend itself better to armor generally but there had been blades made from it in the past. The small dagger she carried today bore mithril inlay gifted to her by her commanders many years ago for her service. She narrowed her eyes at seeing it and the nurse seemed to sense the change.

"NO LADY RAVEARA! DON'T YOU DARE CAUSE A SCENE!" The young nurse came flying but alas she was too late. The barker saw what was coming for him to late.

"That's wrought iron and no more fit to be called a fire poker than it is a sword!" Fuin snapped glaring at the man. "I lived long enough and seen enough swords and wrought enough of my own to know garbage when I see it, and I do think the sword might have more use than you." She was seething to hear those that had fallen in Gondolin being used in such a way. The nurse was on her arm, and the barker was in shock but recovered.

"What is with you crazy women as if you know anything about swords" He laughed having figured out the easiest way to discredit her after the last issue had driven away business for a short while. The nurse held on but was nowhere near strong enough and Fuin went for her dagger pulling it from its sheath spinning it and driving it's point into the wooden table.

"This is a dagger inlaid with mithril, crafted by elven smiths and gifted to me for years of service in fighting the dark forces. I have crafted many similar blades to gift to soldiers of the Lord Elrond for their duty as the Grandmaster of the Elven Forges of Middle-earth." The nurse for her part stood aside at least Fuin wasn't actively trying to skin the fool which she honestly almost expected. She'd learned enough about Fuin to know that she had most certainly earned the last name Raveara. "Perhaps we should see if your sad blade can withstand a blow from a elven forged steel blade, it's only a mere dagger so your mithril sword should have no problems at all." She said with a sneer and the man suddenly looked much less comfortable as people looked at the difference between the finely crafted elven dagger and the sword on display and started suggesting that he should show how strong the sword was.

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Nelladel Alarion with Addhor Raxëlilta
@Ercassie

His confession of knowledge of her and Beren caused her to turn and look at him momentarily before casting her gaze down towards the table which seemed to anchor her. She nodded lightly, it was true. He did wear his heart on his sleeve and she knew when she'd sent him the letter it would crush him. They were the hardest words she'd ever had to write but to continue and give him false hopes would have been crueler at least in her mind. Her green gaze lifted and met his as he offered his condolences. " Thank you, your right there." She softly answered.

She didn't continue as it seemed he had someething more to say so she stood facing him with her right hand resting on the work table, she slightly leaned her hip into it to steady herself as he seemed to have a confession of his own. She listened and watched him as he moved forward slightly. His wish for her happiness and her heart being satisfied and his following words may have been for comfort but she found her brows furrow slightly.

She wasn't sure what he was feeling but with the movement of his hands he seemed to be stuggling with something. Her first instinct was to comfort his unease, causing her to move towards him, her fingers lightly moving over the worktable till gently and with a slow measure her hand lifted as she came to stand half an arms length from him.
"Addhor.." Her voice matched the cautious movement of her right hand towards his left, she continued as her finger tips found his. She held him only by the fingertips so he would know he had the freedom to let her go. Standing there she had to look up at him. " ..I'm sorry for your hurt. I never expected nor deserved anything from you in my eyes." She had to pause and take a breath. "as for my heart? It's happiness seems to lay just beyond my fingertips. " Down her gaze went to their fingertips

"With you." The words nearly came out as a whisper although they sounded much louder in her head. She could not for tell his reaction thus she couldn't bring herself to look up. "If my words have upset you in any way and you wish me to leave just let fall my fingers and not a word nor explaination will be needed. I'll understand." She had to bite at her lip at that last word.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Born Under a Bad Sign
Outside the Library, Second Circle

This was a farce of an investigation so far. They might as well be a bunch of chickens running about with their heads cut off. The lad went darting after the girl but Bram had very little hope that he’d catch up to her. And even if he did, there wasn’t any real reason to hold onto her. She wasn’t a witness to the crime itself, nor was she a suspect (that would have made this a true farce). It was difficult to say if Bram had a soft spot for children, or a soft spot at all for that matter, but seeing the girl scream and run away like that called to something primal in his brain, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was wrong in a way he could not put into words. Not that words were his strong suit to begin with. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, a migraine was beginning to form, a throbbing pain just behind his eyes that left unchecked was going to make him go blind. With the young guard off trying to find the girl, Bram found himself conspicuously alone with the remains and the librarian. He wasn’t sure which made him more uncomfortable. He followed her to the steps and resisted the urge to sit down next to her. It could be taken as a comforting gesture or an overly familiar one and he didn’t want to risk it. He let out a sigh as he looked into the middle distance. There were a thousand questions that needed asking, but which ones would she be able or willing to answer?

“Did the… man,” he started finally, “did he look familiar to you? Had you ever seen him before? Was he a patron of the library perhaps?” He pursed his lips and squinted at the rising sun. The little girl had called him her father before she disappeared. “Or perhaps the girl, had you ever seen her before this morning?” He took a deep breath and rubbed his temple. The air was becoming hot and muggy, his shirt started to cling to him uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to bombard you, ma’am, or to ask too many questions over again, but aside from the… that…” he waved at the area the body had been, “did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Anything, could have seemed innocuous at the time. A strange smell, sound, anything?”

He was going to have to escort the body back up to the guard headquarters, then start canvassing around to see if anyone recognized him. If the librarian did, that would make his job much easier; he would at least know where to start looking. But with the way this morning was going… Bram was not about to believe in luck.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Carpe Diem – Part 12

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Unalmis Raxëlilta
at the Southern Gate/Harlond
with Cadil and Ademar @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

The wall was not unsurmountable, although efforts had clearly been employed to safeguard security. Besides the constant threat of a guard patrol chancing through that area, all of the trees closest to the wall on the Pelennor side had been shaved of branches that were reachable by a grown man standing with his arms raised. That had never stopped a group of determined adolescents back in the day, and Unalmis had earned himself a few inches and some frivolous times at the obstacle courses in the training grounds since then. He had also however undergone a most tiresome injury on an early ‘adventure’ abroad which had proved that not all plucky young lads who left home in search of excitement turned out to be heroes, and also that a rotator cuff injury would leave you with months of recovery and therapy. Needless to say that, with that in mind, he was not entirely reckless in his scrutiny of their chances. The old him would have simply seen if he could do it, without ever stopping to consider how best to make an attempt. So, that was progress, of a sort. If you didn’t view Unalmis growing more determined as a bad thing, which he was sure most people would.

Getting down on the other side is the easy part,” he admitted to Cadil’s consideration. “I mean, even an idiot can fall without trying and there’s nowhere to go then but the ground. Besides which, you have all that gear of yours for a soft landing,” he winked.

The thought of the Guards shooting arrows at them, did make him stop, for a whole half minute. That would be bad. But he couldn’t think why a Guard would be so desperate they’d resort to that, at least not without trying other methods first to stop them. Particularly with such a potentially enormous audience. The Guard/s would have to either risk folks sneaking in or out, while they attended to the two young climbers, or else they would have to risk the crowd close by coming ever closer by to see what all the noise was about. Maybe even both.

I promise, we can go to the very first pub that strikes your fancy when we get there,Nal accepted the bait that his friend named as a lure, and sought to make as good advantage of it as he could. “To celebrate our escape !” he threw in for good measure. No thought yet had been put into how they’d actually pay for drinks in this expectant pub they hadn’t gotten to yet. The young man had managed rather too often though, by employing the ‘I bet you that I can … game. There was always someone in the inn or tavern who would underestimate his capacity to try something stupid. Regardless, he was not too worried that they would be stuck for ideas when the moment arrived. It was important to live in the present. For any moment could be your last, and considering the life he’d lived thus far, it was no wonder to think how he’d come to this conclusion.

A running leap assisted him in reaching for the lowest branch and though the wood creaked as he swung there, like a bucket over a well-hole, the Ranger struck out with his leg closest to the wall, and pushed up from the sole of his foot against that mighty support. It lessened the pressure which was beginning to burn at his shoulders, the one of course more than the other. And if the thought of how his tendons must be slowly unravelling like a torn cord of rope ought to have discouraged him, it instead spurred adrenalin and urgency all the more. Letting his stronger arm slacken in it’s stretch, Nal lurched almost diagonally against the wall, found his knee was better primed to bend and launched off anew from the wall, using his knee to gather and then unleash the energy. By more luck than judgement, he gained a better height where he grasped, until he could crawl both elbows over the wood, then hook both arms, and begin to work the rest of him up after.

Here, throw me up your things and I’ll drop them over the wall,” he proposed soon after. Spread along the length of the next branch up now, upon his belly, like a lounging panther, Unalmis reached down, to encourage his friend. “Then you will have an easier time of it,” he sounded like he believed it would work. It was usually after it had all gone wrong that he realised in hindsight how foolhardy it had been.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben

Having fun at the Fayre

It had been some time since they took any time to just enjoy themselves, and years since Ivornith ventured this close to Minas Tirith. Since Rissy was born, at least. She recalled coming to this Fayre back when Dawion was alive.. they had brought Iuldir here when he was little, and it had been a very enjoyable day. Now, he was about twice that age, and looking more like his father every year, she noticed with a smile.

"Mother, look! Can I play that game?" He asked eagerly, bouncing as he pointed ahead to one of the games where you win a prize.
"I'm sorry, Iuldir, I haven't got money to waste on things like that, you know it adds up." She told him, regretfully. "I hear they rig these games, so that it's very difficult to win, so they make more money."
"Aunt Cali said the same," He sighed. "Alright." He looked around, then pointed to another booth. "Look, you can buy things there, outright. Can we look?" He asked, smiling when his mother nodded.

Ivornith held onto Rissy's hand as she followed along, keeping her son in sight as he moved toward the booth, looking eager to see what sort of wares were available to buy. "What are you looking for?" She asked once she caught up to him, curious.
"I dunno..." He shrugged.

While her mother and brother were looking at the things there, Rissy hugged her new doll, looking around. Looking around at the crowds pressing around her, she thought she heard a familiar voice, and peered around, trying to see who it was... and then she spotted the pointy ears and let out an excited squeal, breaking free from her mother's hand as she ran toward Fuin, excited to see the friendly elf lady that had stayed with them for a few days. Not really aware of the fact that Fuin had just challenged the man behind the booth, Rissy ducked around and through thick crowds of people toward her. Running up beside Fuin, she wrapped her arms around her and hugged tight. "Fuin!" She giggled happily.

Scoffing as the child ran up, the guy at the booth laughed off her challenge and tried to use the distraction to brush her off and turned back to trying to get customers to play his game, with a comment about silly women.

"Rissy!" Ivornith gasped in shock as her little girl ran off, vanishing in the crowd. "Rissy! Come back!" She took off after her immediately, but the crowds were thick and cut her off for a moment, and then she lost sight of Rissy. Panic swelled up and she pushed frantically through a group of people, scanning the crowd for her daughter. "Rissy! Where are you!?"

Iuldir was by her side by now, looking around as well. "Rissy!" He yelled, glancing around worriedly. Then he pointed a short ways off. "There she is!" He grabbed Ivornith's arm and pulled her over toward the booth, grinning once he got close enough to see who Rissy was with. "Fuin!" He greeted her happily.
As they caught up to them, Ivornith pulled Rissy close to her. "Don't you ever do that again, you had me scared to death!"

Distracted by the man bragging on his mithril sword that could be won by playing his game, Iuldir leaned around some people to get a better look. "That isn't mithril," Iuldir retorted, hearing the man's claim. "You can't get mithril." He folded his arms, scoffing. "You shouldn't tell stuff like that, you're going to make some people very angry, you know."
"Oh, and you think you know something about it, huh boy?" The man scoffed. "First I get a couple of women telling me about swords, now a little boy?"
Glaring, Iuldir pushed closer and pointed to the sword. "I'm just barely an apprentice, but I can make a better quality weapon than that. It looks fancy, sure, but that'd never hold up in a real fight."
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

The man was was looking ill until she heard a squeal and firm grip around her leg and her fit of rage was forgotten for the moment. Rissy and she could hear Ivornith and Iuldir calling for her. Fuin put her hand down and gave the girl a pat on the head, she didn't look like she was frightened at all and had likely seen her and reacted before her brother or mother could do much about it. Her nurse guardian blinked in shock at the change. It was instantaneous she would have to mention that to Nessa when they returned that she'd learned to switch off anger so fast.

Fuin smiled apologetically to Ivornith as she scolded Rissy, at least the child had done this when it was someone that she knew at least and was safe, though there were few elves where the child would be in danger there was at least one that Fuin could think of, not that she could be mistaken for that fool. It was then Iuldir brought her back to the mithril sword - her dagger still standing upright in the wooden table top right near her.

"That little boy that you are mocking is the heir of the House Dringolben, a name which I as the teacher of his family bestowed upon them, I was a mastersmith then and dealt with fools like you then. Watch your tongue and your tone you barking fool, I already cursed on idiot blacksmith in this land to ruin and they ceased to be able to get work as a smith over 400 years ago...I can't imagine if I did the same thing to you what your line would suffer." The rage was back, tempered some by the fact that there were now children that looked up to her and liked her present.

The barkers face went blank for a moment and then filled with rage to equal Fuins. "YOU! You're the source of the elf curse on my family I should kill you and get my families honor back."


"Please, do try. With that mithril sword of yours." Fuin said with a laugh pulling her blade from the table. "I can't image having to curse the same line twice, it seems your forefathers never learned their lesson. A suitable fall from smithing to hawking pathetic wares as elven goods. No wonder you'd try to besmirch the fallen of Gondolin with that pathetic excuse for a childs toy." She said and turned from the man letting him seethe and rage.

"Iuldir, I wasn't able to show you any elven craftsmanship the last time I saw you," She had her left side to the man, the side that had been cut deeply and wouldn't have the strength to bare weight if she needed to react her good leg was in position if she needed to react for now thought the man seemed to have gone silent and red his fist forming and releasing as he tried to figure out what to do. She could see that from her perhiferal vision for now though she was paying attention to Iuldir. She had her dagger laid across the palm of her left hand, out it's fine point undamaged by being stuck in the table and the swirl of elven patterns in mithril along the blade were gleaming and obvious against the honed steel. Her right hand rested under it's oiled handle wrapped in a thin tendril of mithril as well that curved around it like a vine from the guard to the pommel, ready to close around it and bring it up to defend against the mans 'mithril' sword should he finally work up the nerve to swing.

While the dagger was no work of Gondolin the mithril shone bright in the daylight, and the weapon was beautiful and finely crafted and many that had been looking at the sword in wonder instead turned to look at this small delicate and deadly weapon - likely unaware of how many lives it had ended in the name of protecting the world during the Third Age.

The nurse for her part stood watching happy that for the moment it seemed like Fuin was not going to get into an actual fight though she certainly had tried her best to.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben

Having fun at the Fayre

Iuldir glanced in surprise at Fuin, to hear her mention cursing someone, and their whole line. He struggled not to grin too hard at the thought of it, and the irony that they should encounter someone from that very line, now. "Wow," He looked at the dagger Fuin held, impressed by the beauty of that weapon. That was clearly far superior to the one the fayre guy was trying to pawn off as the genuine article. "That's..gorgeous, too bad Aunt Cali isn't here to see that," He mentioned, glancing around a bit, wondering if he might see her.
"I wanna see," Rissy stood on tiptoe, trying to get a look at the pretty knife Fuin was showing to her brother, though she knew better than to try and touch any weapons because they were sharp. And she'd get scolded if she did.

"Let's get out of here, he's not worth our notice." He decided. Aunt Cali was always telling him to know when to pick your battles, and he figured she was right.. picking a fight with this loser wasn't worth the effort.
Ivornith watched all of this a bit uneasily, unsure how the fayre worker was going to react to all of this... she really didn't want to have any fighting break out, and was relieved when her boy finally suggested, maturely, that they leave. "I think that's an excellent idea. How are you, Fuin? I'm so glad to see you again." She smiled as she started leading the way elsewhere, as a means of encouraging the rest to follow. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for all that you did for us, before..."
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

Fuin smiled as Iuldir admired the blade she lowered it a bit so Rissy would have an easier time seeing it as well before putting it away and gave a nod to Iuldir. "Very wise words, and I am sure she will get to see it eventually." She said as she gave him a pat on the shoulder and hshe headed towards Ivornith who was standing back away from the man and heading away from him further.

"I am good Ivornith, my husband told me that you were exceptionally grateful for the help with the roof. I am just glad that I have a husband worth his weight in mithril that will put up with me." She said with a grin motioning for the nurse to follow. "My husband told me that the chair was well paid for, which I hope helped some as well with keeping your name on the lips of the people of Dol Amroth as a house of blacksmiths. Has Iuldir been keeping up his studies with the forge?" She asked partially to his mother and partially to the young boy, she had no doubt that he had but was interested to hear what he'd learned since she'd been there last knowing full well that Cali would be teaching him well. She wondered if there had been more orders placed that they had been able to take on even if they had to lie for the time being about who was the head of the forge and where they were.

"Have you all eaten yet? I hear they have these fantastic fried long skinny pastries covered in cinnamon from Harad and honey...Mumakil tails* I think?" Fuin looked inquisitively at her nurse escort who nodded having been to the fayre before.

(*Gondorian Churros)

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben

Having fun at the Fayre

Grinning as they moved away and began catching up, Iuldir excitedly told Fuin about the various things he had been working on lately.
"The money helped a great deal, yes." Ivornith said, keeping a strong grip on Rissy's hand this time. "I couldn't believe it, and I thank you more than I can say, for what you did for us." She smiled. "As you can hear by how much he's been doing, he has indeed been keeping up with his studies."

"That sounds delicious!" Iuldir stared with wide eyes at the thought of the yummy treat Fuin described. "Can we get some of those?" He asked, turning to his mother. "Please?"
"Yummy! Please mommy?" Rissy bounced up and down eagerly.
"I.. I'm not sure, I didn't bring much money." Ivornith hesitated, but then seeing how excited they looked, she smiled and tried to do as Cali had suggested, and forget about money for the day. "Alright, if they aren't too high, we'll get some." She agreed. Turning to Fuin, she mentioned, "Cali is here with us, but she went off to find her friends." She smiled. "I hope she finds them. She's missed them terribly, and hasn't seen any of them since the war."
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
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Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

"I am glad to hear that Ivornith!" Fuin said as she added that the money from the wheelchair had helped them. Undoubtedly not having to worry about the house rotting around them each time it rained likely helped to. "I expect you'll start making some money soon Iuldir doing small black smithing jobs for neighbours at the rate you are going!" She said with a pat on his back.

Fuin couldn't help but roll her eyes a bit at Ivornith, she'd not mention some tasty treat like that around Iuldir and Rissy and actually expect the poor woman to pay for them! Goodness she was not use to Fuin yet, though she'd only been with her at her house a few days she would have thought Ivornith would have said something like 'and don't you dare pay for their Mumakil tails as well' but she did not.

"No worries my treat, that way they can do other fun things." She said with a smile as the nurse lead them to the stand where the pasteries were normally sold. The smell was intoxicating and she almost missed that Cali was there somewhere. "She's seeing her friends?" Fuin nodded happy to hear it. "That's good I hope she finds them as well, it would do her well to see them again from what I understood. Perhaps I'll see her before I need to head back to Minas Tirith, it would be nice to see her again." She said before she headed to stand in line her small pouch of money in hand with Iuldir there to 'help' carry the mumakil tails since they saw one go buy and it was nearly a foot and a half long. Fuin looked at Iuldir and gave a grin. "I think Rissy might need to share one with your mother unless they have a child sized one I don't think eating something that big will do her good." Fuin wasn't sure that Iuldir would fair much better but he was older at least and would not be in as much pain if he ate too many sweets as poor little Rissy.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben

Having fun at the Fayre

"Oh, I.. you don't have to do that," Ivornith protested, but recalled how Fuin had been when she was at their house before... she would do what she would do, and it was pointless to argue and tell her she didn't have to do it, so she didn't even try to argue. The children were far too excited for them to be disappointed, at this point, and she kept quiet and smiled as she watched Rissy's and Iuldir's eyes grow wide as saucers at the sight of the treats, seeing others with them. At Fuin's suggestion that Rissy share one, Ivornith nodded. "I think that would be best," She laughed, wondering if she would even be able to finish one of those. If she had been buying, she would have only gotten one and split it between the three of them, but, well it wouldn't do too much harm for Iuldir to have one of his own, this once.

Once they had their treats, Ivornith softly reminded the children, "What do you say?"
"Thank you Fuin!" Iuldir grinned, though he could hardly take his eyes off of the treat, wondering how to even begin.
"Thank you." Rissy hugged her leg again and beamed up at her before turning back to her mommy to get her portion of the one Ivornith had.
"Indeed, thank you very much," Ivornith agreed, breaking off a little bit for Rissy, not wanting to give her too much at once. "You really didn't have to, and we appreciate it very much."
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

High Lord of Imladris
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Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

Fuin smiled as they thanked her for the treats she even got another hug from Rissy. "It's my pleasure." With that she even handed her nurse one who was a bit shocked, after all the elf had on their way to the Fayre caller her her Gaoler. She'd been upset by that but couldn't argue the point, she was in charge of making sure Fuin didn't run away again even though she'd promised she'd come back after a day at the Fayre... That was a Gaoler. The fact she'd buy her a treat or that she'd actually paid attention to her talking about the mumakil tails had surprised her as it was.

With that she attempted to delicately bite into the still warm pastry and it did not go well. For all her elven grace she was still covered cheek to cheek and all her fingertips with cinnamon sugar just like everyone else that had one. "So what else did you guys find interesting here today? Make sure I haven't missed anything fun."

Ent Ancient
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Born Under a Bad Sign

Falaneth with Bram
Outside the Library, Second Circle


Falaneth could not help but give Bram an incredulous look. “Does that man…” Her voice faltered a bit as she waved her arm toward the corpse while refusing to look at it again. Even though it was covered, the image of it was burned into the back of her mind and she wasn’t sure there was enough time in this mortal life to forget the horrific sight. It was mangled beyond belief or recognition. If the child thought it was her father, well, children had imaginations. They could fill in those gaps with wild and wonderful and weird things. She could not, nor did she want to. She had spent enough torturous hours picturing another corpse she had never been allowed to see, wondering what final torment marred her lover’s face or if he looked peaceful as he drew his final breaths. “Look familiar? How could he?” Her words thinned, so quiet a wisp of wind could whirl up and snatch them away.

Her fingertips brushed over knees, catching on the fabric of her dress as she clasped it for something to hold onto, giving herself whatever self-soothing gesture she could. Frowning, she shook her head. No, she had not seen the child at the library before, or anywhere else for that matter. If she had, she would not likely have known; the girl would have been lost in the sea of children that scurried through the streets, many of whom she took little notice of. It wasn’t just the children Falaneth tended to ignore, but all the herds of people milling about and always talking and hardly ever listening. She did her best to imitate an owl flying on silent wings, going about her life without being noticed. Until this awful morning, anyway.

Was anything out of the ordinary? A strange smell, sound? The guard’s questions rolled over in her head. A strange sound. Like the haunting song that eclipsed reality from her dream. That chased her into the waking world and seemed to turn over and over in her mind, a hateful tune she could not get out of her head. And the nightmare? Was that out of the ordinary? What sleep she managed to catch of late was in fitful starts and stops and never seemed deep enough to truly dream until last night.

Sitting on the steps of her haven, Falaneth saw it happen all over again in the darkness of her mind as she mulled over the final question. A crow cawed from the eave of a nearby building and she started, rudely brought back to the present. She remembered how hard she tried to rally the guards to the truth, her truth, and how miserably she had failed. She did not have the heart to try again and anyway, there could not be a connection between her early morning disturbance and this crime. If she told him of a dream and strange melody, he would surely think her mad. Mad with grief or horror or driven to womanly hysterics. No, she could not tell him.

“No,” she answered. “No, there was nothing strange that I can think of. If there is nothing else you need from me, I would like to go inside now.” Falaneth stood and folded her hands before her as she waited for the guard’s permission to leave the ghastly scene behind. If she had been as useless to them as they were to her, a small part of her took some satisfaction in that at least until she thought once more of the child. “I hope your colleague finds the child safe.” It seemed like rather the right thing to say.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir and Iorissel Dringolben Joined by Tobedir

Having fun at the Fayre

Rissy happily took the piece that Ivornith had given her, and in moments her face was covered in cinnamon sugar just like Fuin's. She giggled, seeing Fuin covered in it. "You got it on you!" She told her, grinning.
"Oh there's all sorts of interesting things!" Iuldir said, pausing to get a bite from his treat.
"Aunt Cali got me dolly!" Rissy held up her new doll happily, showing it off to Fuin, as Iuldir started telling her all about the different things that they'd seen so far here, then paused in the middle of telling her about some jugglers when he heard someone calling his name. Glancing around, he spotted a friend through the crowd, trying to push through and get to him. "Oh! Look, it's Toby!" He waved eagerly, and grinned as he glanced at Fuin. "That's my friend, he lives here in Minas Tirith!"

A moment later, Toby managed to get past a group that had blocked his path, and got to them. "Hi Iuldir!" The two friends hugged briefly. "Hello Ma'am, nice to see you again" Toby greeted Iuldir's mother. "And," His eyes widened slightly as he realized Iuldir was with an elf lady, unsure what to say to her.
"Toby," Iuldir grinned. "This is a friend of ours, Lady Fuin. She's helping me learn to be a great smith, just like my father was, maybe even better!" He told him proudly. "Fuin, this is Tobedir, we've been friends since we were too little to remember."
"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am," Toby couldn't help being a bit awed by the fact that he was meeting an elf, and that this elf was such a friend and teacher to Iuldir.
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

High Lord of Imladris
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Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

Fuin glanced at the boy that Iuldir motioned to and nodded and quickly wiped MOST of the sugary confection from her face - This was someone that she had no doubt Toby had some expectations of and an elf covered in sugar was not likely to be on of them. She smiled as the boys eyes went wide seeing her and she had to keep herself from laughing as Iuldir referred to her as a Lady, she'd managed to stop that from most people but the boy was quite proud of the fact she was a family friend and she gave Tobedir or Toby a small nod.

"It is nice to meet you as well Toby. I must admit I kept poor Iuldir fairly busy with lessons and building items that he wasn't able to tell me too terribly much about his friends." Fuin said politely. She wondered when the last time Iuldir had actually seen his friend? Was it before her last visit or had he heard more about Fuin with a visit afterwards? It was hard to tell but Fuin was guessing likely with the description that Iuldir had given that this was Toby's first time learning about her.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir, Iorissel Dringolben and Tobedir

Having fun at the Fayre

"You're learning from an elf?" Toby turned to stare at his friend, highly impressed, and then turned back to Fuin, hoping he wasn't being rude, "It's a great pleasure to meet you, ma'am!"
Ivornith couldn't help a quiet laugh. "Toby, if your eyes grow any bigger they're going to pop out of your head." She told him with a smile. "Try not to stare, I'm sure your grandmother taught you better than that."
Blushing lightly, Toby nodded, struggling not to stare too much.

Iuldir suddenly remembered how far behind on the news Toby was, and was suddenly bursting at the seams to tell him about it all. "Toby! Remember what I was telling you about, ages ago, about Caeleb and how I wanted to try and make that chair with wheels?"
"Yeah?"
"We did it!" He grinned happily. "Fuin helped a lot," He carefully remembered to keep Cali's secret, "We got it done and then talked Caeleb's father into buying it from us, and he's enjoying it a lot!"
"Oh, wow!" Toby grinned. "I'm glad! He needed something like that. I can't wait to go visit in Dol Amroth this summer, so I can see it." He smiled, excited about that idea.

"You must be a really great smith." Toby said to Fuin. Glancing at his friend, he added, "Iuldir, you're so lucky!" He looked back at Fuin. "Do you think it'll be terribly long before Iuldir's good enough to have his own shop? Maybe.. here in Minas Tirith?" he asked hopefully with a grin, nudging his friend. "Ever since the war, there's been just.. average smiths... you know. Everyone misses the Dringolben forge." He sighed. "It's still there, of course, but there's someone renting it from Mrs Dringolben, and he's.." He shrugged, deciding it would be best to just leave it at that. "Well, it's not the same."
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Chief Counsellor of Gondor
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Addhor Raxëlilta with Nelladel Alarion
@Isolde Alarion


He had said a lot of words, and still nothing at all. He was not even sure where half of his confession was coming from. An untapped well some place deep inside. Something so unused to working that it required a moment to remember how. If it ever really had known. He was certainly not sure if this was what Nell had hoped for when she had come here. Maybe she but yearned for the awkward uncertainty to be over.

Now a silent game of musical chairs was carrying about the shop, as the woman and the man turned this way and that. Slowly, idly, though they were easing on their scenic route around the room, until there were no more surfaces to skim underhand, no more space to stare away into. No more walls for support and no more excuses. Addhor should have not have felt so adrift, in his own place of work. He only knew that his head was full and his hands were increasingly aware of being empty: seeking for .. something, and that he did not know what exactly that something might be that could satisfy, until her hands were reached out in reply. She looked up at him. And he looked down, at them .. so close and come together, barely.

When her gaze dropped as well, when she spoke, it felt like Nell was reading lines straight from his own heart. ‘And not a word or explanation will be needed ..’ Addhor could not think of anybody else in all the world who could have known exactly who he was. He wished he could know her even half so well, and yet the prospect of her managing to surprise him so persistently, it was somehow all the more exciting. How life might be ..

‘With you’.

His eyes closed, to capture the moment, the unreal sensation, as those two little words were uttered from the daydream which seemed to have took hold. He had never ever expected, he hid not deserve .. her ..Nell turned teeth upon her lip, seemed to regret ever unleashing the sentiment aloud.

I would have you understand,” he conceded softly “that you have already made me more happy than I ever expected or deserved to be.

His were not soft hands, they had seen labour in the woods, with weapons, and with woodcraft. But they were hers, for so long as she might wish them be so. Carefully, they closed his fingers around hers, lest she believe he wished her to let go.

So let us not be sorry,” He leaned in, raising the back of her held hand in his to meet a brush of lips, as his own whisper betrayed him in turn. “But hope to both be happy. With whatever the future may bring us.

It was an unfamiliar word, but welcome. 'Us'. Maybe she would have expected a more excitable embrace, but there was no rush. Clearly, good things come to those who wait.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
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Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

She could not help but chuckle at the excitement from Toby and gave and appreciative nod at the compliment the boy paid her even after Ivornith had chided him gently. She was quite use to the stares and the questions though from children, it was not long into the fourth age but so few elves were to be found traveling these lands anymore for anything other than to visit Queen Arwen that common folk likely didn't get to interact with them too often.

"I'm glad to hear the shop is still there - it has been there for a very long time though I am not sure if the first forge is still there it has been long years for it to have survived." Fuin said with a smile and looked at Iuldir. "I am afraid it will unfortunately be a good number more years before Iuldir is ready to open and run his own shop, he is a bit young, and his arm is not quite strong enough yet to keep up with the demands of working a forge everyday, but it is getting better constantly." Fuin said with a knowing nod. "Perhaps by the time he's ready he'll have started teaching his little sister how to smith as well as it's always a good test of a smith to teach someone." Fuin said with a smile. She wasn't sure Rissy would be interested in blacksmithing but she did want to put the idea in Iuldirs head that he would be teaching people as well. Something she had no doubt was an exciting prospect.

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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir, Iorissel Dringolben and Tobedir

Having fun at the Fayre


Toby looked a bit disappointed to hear it would be several more years, having sort of hoped maybe Iuldir could come live there in Minas Tirith again so they could hang out a lot more.
"My grandpa always said it was the same one," Iuldir commented, frowning thoughtfully. Looking at Fuin, he tilted his head a little. "Do you think you could tell, if it was the original? I'm curious now..." He glanced at his mother with sudden excitement as he got an idea. "Mother! Can we-"
"No, we are not going there, we're here at the fayre to have fun. And anyway, you know that someone is renting that place at this time. We can't just barge in and look around." She told him firmly.
"But we could just take a quick look, he probably wouldn't mind. And it belongs to us anyway..."
"No, and that's final."
"Yes ma'am." He sighed, but couldn't help thinking a bit about a plan to slip away and take a look, though it wouldn't really do much good for him to do that as he wouldn't have any idea how to tell if it was the original forge or not.

At the suggestion Fuin made about Iuldir teaching Rissy to smith, Ivornith became a little alarmed. "Oh.. no, she's far too young for dangerous things like that!" She pulled Rissy a little closer, as if to protect her. "Please, don't put ideas like that into his head," She laughed lightly, but was still a bit nervous.
Iuldir hesitated, glancing briefly at Toby, then back to his mother and then at Fuin. "Er, I think she meant a few years from now, Mother.." He told her. "You don't really think I'd teach Rissy to do something dangerous, do you?" He made sure not to specifically say that he had NOT taught her anything about smithing, as he didn't want to be accused of lying.

Beside him, Toby was trying not to snicker, knowing full-well why Iuldir was suddenly a little uncomfortable with this topic. "Don't worry ma'am, Iuldir is a much better big brother to Rissy than Trev ever was to me, he wouldn't do anything that might hurt her." He assured her.
Thinking to return the topic back to the Dringolben's forge, Iuldir turned back to Fuin with a new idea. "Maybe when you return to the city, you could stop in to see it?" He suggested to Fuin, since his mother wouldn't let him go.
"Are you going to the city?" Toby asked, surprised. "I could take you there, if you like? I know the way very well." He grinned, thinking back to the times when he used to play with his brother and his friends.
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

High Warden of Tower
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Cadil with Unalmis @Ercassie
at the Southern Gate


"Well, I don't really like the idea of falling from that height," Cadil objected, as he stood a little bit off the tree to allow Nal enough space for climbing. "Perhaps we should've waited a while for the guy to go through the gate and simply gone through in a crowd after." Apparently the idea came to him quite late, and it just seemed usual to end up picking the hardest way to do things when he was teamed up with Nal.

He watched his friend's rather successful attempt and thought it was a climb worthy of a limber cat, while he was not that confident in his own abilities. The tree was not that high, and yet high enough to make things difficult.

Cadil frowned up at Nal who had found a comfortable location on another bough. "You want me to kill you with that bag or something?" he queried, "It is heavy!" Somehow he found it difficult to imagine that his stuff could be thrown and caught that easily; besides... what if some mischief on the other side of the wall snatched it and ran off before he could make it over?

Having considered his options, Cadil set his pack on the ground and quickly searched through it until he eventually came up with a length of rope which he promptly tucked behind his belt. Making sure everything was tightly secured and he wouldn't lose anything while throwing his belongings around, he hoisted it up again and stepped close to position himself right under Nal's branch.

"Can you reach it?" he asked as he held the pack up, extending his arms as straight as he could and standing on tiptoes. As his lazy muscles complained about such exertion, the youth thought that this was the last time he packed so heavily; though perhaps he would avoid the next time altogether.
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High Lord of Imladris
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Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

Fuin couldn't help but chuckle as Toby said it was the same one and Iuldir suggested that they go and look. She didn't overly feel the need but was curious as well, perhaps she would stop by on the way back to the House of Healing, after all her name was also on the deed to the shop and she could pass by to see as a perspective customer. She doubted that the smith would know who she was, however she was not about to tell Iuldir that and get him in trouble by encouraging his curiosity in something his mother had already firmly said no to.

She blinked though when Ivornith wrapped her arms around Rissy a bit confused at the comment, after all she'd said when Iuldir was ready to take over the forge in Minas Tirith... Though she hadn't exactly said those words perhaps that's where the confusion lay. "Goodness no, not yet, she's far too young now to do more than ask questions. No I expect that not to happen until he's about ready to leave home, and then little Rissy will be about the age he is now!" Perhaps older, she wasn't entirely sure on the age gap between the two of them but she'd certainly by that the time Iuldir was grown Rissy most certainly would have figured out if she wanted to learn how to smith or not. "And then only if she wants to learn - she may want to become something other than a smith and then Iuldir may be busy helping make her tools for the trade she wants to take up especially if it is sewing -pins and scissors are finicky things to make in a forge." Fuin said with a chuckle, and wondered if she'd become a roofer, knowing she'd helped decently with her husband to help reshingle the Dringolben's house. She'd been quite proud of her husband for finding work for the little girl to safely do so that she could say in all honesty that she'd helped with it.

"Yes I am going to the city Toby, I think my nurse friend here would have a fit if I went anywhere else." She said and looked at the nurse who glanced up from where she was standing respectfully a few feet away so Fuin could speak to her friends, she'd been enjoying her mumakil tail pastry when Fuin mentioned her and her brown eyes went wide glancing about realizing that Fuin had of course distracted her. "Perhaps you could walk with us as our path to the sixth level goes right past the forge as well, though I must admit I've not thought to check in myself." The nurse glanced at Toby then at Fuin as she talked about adding a stop to their trip back to the House of Healing and gave a nod knowing the forge that they were talking about.

Balrog
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Born Under a Bad Sign
Outside the Library, Second Circle

His mind wandered. He didn’t know if it was from the heat of the early morning, the lack of sleep from the night before, or a general desire to detach from reality, but Bram was having trouble staying on task. This case had his mind already wanting to flee in the peace and safety of a personal dark age. He used to be a sharp investigator, he used to have a stomach for the most gruesome of displays violence and depravity. What happened to him? He could a ghost of his iron stomach inside him, but the more present was a voice in the back of his mind telling him to bolt. It was a seductive whisper, one he heard in his head more and more often since his days in Minas Brethil. The White City, the capital, was supposed to be better than the hinterland cities, better than the pirate coves and smuggler dens. He chanced a glance back at the besheeted atrocity. So much for supposed to be. His thoughts scattered like autumn leaves though. He had almost sensed something, he was so close to something but the more he tried to hold it, the more the metaphorical sand slipped through his fingers.

He nodded to the librarian. She hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual. He took a prolonged glance at her and squinted momentarily. Was she telling the truth? She’d seen and heard nothing? He wanted to believe her. He’d been a part of the city guard for too long. Suspicion was in his blood the way salt was in a sailor. She was hiding something, that much he could glean from the way uncomfortable way she sat and fidgeted about. His gut, though, told him that it was not relevant. Everyone’s entitled to their own personal secrets. He had more than a few of his own wrapped up in bottles of rum at his apartments. He couldn’t begrudge her, not on a day like this, not with that thing hovering so near.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said at length. “I appreciate the hell you’re experiencing. You’ve been a great help.” He bit his tongue. Had she been a great help? Not really, but what help was she supposed to offer? A list of people to go after? She was a librarian, not a fisher king. “If I think of anything I might need your help with I will come by the library.”

He'd never had much use for libraries or books. They were bastions of memory and preservation and he was a man that wanted to forget. Hopefully he wouldn’t have any other questions and this poor woman could live the rest of her life in peace. He bit his lip and kept biting as his mind began to wander again. This morning felt like a waking dream, an unreality that pushed him along just fast enough that he couldn’t question what the hell was actually happening to him. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Was it déjà vu? Was that what people called it? His eyelids were heavy, and his temples pulsed. Was he tired or hungover? Had he been at a tavern last night? He couldn’t remember. He’d woken in his own bed and wasn’t covered in the smell of booze or stale stew, but he still felt like he’d been dragged by a horse and he couldn’t remember the previous night. Which one of the Powers was it that could take away memories? Vairë or something like that? Bram had never really paid attention to that either. Ossë and Uinen were the only one’s anyone on the coasts really knew and cared about.

He waited for the wagon to arrive to take the body away. He waited for what felt like ages. The sun continued to climb and radiate, his headache only increased with time. By the time the driver came and helped him load that body, he was ready to pass out from the pain. His vision blurred. Everything around him had too much color and no edges. Every creak and groan of the wheel as they went away, back up to headquarters, was like the sounding of a great iron bell in his skull. His teeth ached from the sound. He kept a straight face though, straining as best he could to appear normal and unphased. There was a sketchpad and a charcoal pencil in the wagon next to the driver. He took it and began to sketch the dead man’s face. He was no artist, but he’d made enough attempts at it over the years to make a passable rendition. The work, also, helped keep the thrashing pain at bay. He needed to eat something. Even with the grotesque assemblage of human and tree sitting next to him, he felt a pang of hunger roil about in his stomach. No accounting for taste. He chuckled at his own pun. The driver looked at him with a concerned eye but otherwise ignored him the entire trip. He’d have to conduct a dissection of the poor man. The lad, Aderic or whatever he’d called himself, should be back from tracking girl down. They could take the sketch and see if anyone recognized him. Without a name they were up (s)hit’s creek. They might be regardless.

And why did he have violin music stuck in his head?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Steward of Gondor
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@Fuin Elda
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Ivornith, Iuldir, Iorissel Dringolben and Tobedir

Having fun at the Fayre


Iuldir grinned as he offered Toby half of his pastry. "I think Fuin already knows the way, but maybe she'd let you come along with her." He suggested, remembering how she had told him and Cali about how she helped start the forge here in the first place.
"Look!" Rissy pointed, tugging her mother's hand excitedly as she saw some people doing acrobatics, wide-eyed as she watched them in amazement.
"Wanna go closer and watch, Rissy?" Iuldir asked, wondering if Ivornith would let them.
"Yes! Please?" She looked up at their mother.
"Alright, let's go and see." She smiled as she headed that way. "I hear there is a play going on somewhere, too. I'd like to watch it, if we aren't too late." She mentioned, recalling having heard something about it. Having been to this fayre many years ago with her husband, she recalled the actors (at least back then) were fairly good and the play was very enjoyable.

"How they do that?" Rissy pointed up at the acrobats flying around in the air, tugging on Fuin's sleeve now. If anyone had an answer to that, it was sure to be her, she figured. "Can you do it?" She wondered, curious what sort of wonderful skills their elven friend might be hiding besides making things with the forge.

"Hey, Toby, remember that time we were playing around and swinging on the ropes and stuff on that ship?" Iuldir grinned, watching the acrobats do some swinging on ropes and things.
"Yeah," Toby sighed, a little sadly. "That was fun, though I don't think my grandfather was too pleased." He smiled faintly in remembrance. "Trev kept yelling at us to quit playing around, so he wouldn't get in trouble."
Turning to Fuin, Iuldir added, "Toby's grandfather lives in Dol Amroth. He's a falconer, so he does a lot of things for the nobles who like to use birds to hunt and all that, and they get to go onto the fancy ships and boats a lot."
"I'm hoping to one day do the same as my grandfather." Toby added. "He's started teaching me how to train the birds to hunt and everything." He smiled faintly.
Last edited by Rillewen on Fri Sep 09, 2022 9:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Fuin Elda (and her nurse guardian/warden/escort person)
Daytrip to the Fayre
@Rillewen

They moved towards the acrobats and watched them she doubted sadly that she would have time to watch a play unless it was short but she glanced at the nurse who nodded as Ivornith mentioned the play. "It's normally a bit later in the evening when everyone is getting tired and want to sit." She offered and Fuin nodded that would be a good way to have a captive audience regardless of how good one was at acting. She felt a tug on her sleeve from Rissy and Fuin followed her small hand that pointed up at them.

"I don't know, that is not something I'm terribly good at, I can barely climb a sailing ship mast with the rope ladders." Fuin said with a smile, she had no doubt that Mylien probably could with a bit of watching and her course way of speaking figure out not only how to do it but how to ruin the magic of it. She'd probably say something like 'It's all in yer hand strength and the strength of yer stomach.' and then hit Fuin in the guts to show her her stomach was weak only to have Fuin flex her core enough that both of them ended up hurting because Fuin was use to her wife. Her wife she decided could definitely do the part where they were swinging about on ropes probably as if it were nothing she might add in sword fighting to it or something.

She was brought out of her reverie of her wife with Iuldurs comment about Toby's grandfather, hearing that he was a falconer she raised an eyebrow at that, she still had her bird. Though she wasn't sure where she was at the moment, she was far different at her handling of birds than most men were. "That is fantastic Toby, birds are quite fantastic, which type of bird is your favourite?" She asked genuinely curious to hear what the young falconer student had to say while they enjoyed the acrobatics show.

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Nelladel w Addhor
@Ercassie

She was unsure what to expect but his words pleased her and feeling his fingers slowing closing she watched him and followed their hands as hers came to brush his lips.
It was the lightest of gestures but it touched her deeply and his words brought a smile to the corners of her lips. She had to lightly shake her head, she would never be sorry again. Not where he was concerned, not in regards to whatever this would become.

She had to look up at him, mostly because he was so tall, and her fingers lightly tightened around his. "I will never be sorry with you and I think I would like to see what this will become between us." She smiled up at him as she folded her other hand over his and squeezed it lightly. Not wanting to press their new found closeness further she continued. "Now you must tell me, what were you brewing when I interrupted you? It was strong but intriging, if it's what I think it is I have the perfect thing to accompany it back at the bakery."
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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The room was stifling hot and smelled sickly of rotting flowers, lavender and bad hygiene. Long thick heavy curtains had been drawn across the many windows that would usually display the wonders of Minas Tirith and all the circles below. However the stunning views and all their glory had been covered for longer than Aradan cared to remember. It was the bright light, Mother said. It gave her a headache. Come to think of it, he only knew there was a stunning view from the windows when he peered out between the thick fabric, almost instantly getting a telling off for letting a sliver of light penetrate through. The only time the curtains were opened, as far as the maids telling went, was when the sun rose and set. She still loved those and on the days where the sunrise or sunset was particularly spectacular, she would even go out on the balcony. The only fresh air she would get. And according to the same maids, she would cry.

Aradan did not know why his mother still cried, or why she hid away in her quarters every hour of the day. From the stories told, she had episodes, where she would wail and scream, luckily the house was too big to hear that. Or would lie in bed for so long they worried she was dead. Aradan only knew that she had been like this for most of his life. It had begun when his little brother died. Amlach had only been 2 when he died in a very unfortunate accident. Somehow the little toddler had managed to climb the balcony wall and fallen to his death far below. It had been devasting for his mother, the little boy falling within sight as she was in the garden on her daily walk.

Aradan had tried to catch him, he swore he had. They were just playing and he didn't see. He could tell his mother never believed him. Brokenhearted and unable to be with Aradan anymore, she fled to her quarters and now 8 years later, she was still mourning. He didn't understand how she could mourn for so long. It even affected his father, who poured himself into his work, rising to unfathomable heights and gaining immense power, barely ever seeing his children. Aradan wanted that kind of power too.

The only one that seemed unaffected by it all was Adalen. Once she had finished mourning her brother, she returned to being the happy positive child she had always been. It seemed like nothing could break her spirit, even though he had tried countless times. Bullying, being mean and even hurting her did not seem to faze her. She brushed it off as if it was nothing and even deigned to smile at him as if he had hugged her and not hit her. He avoided her as much as he could, leaving her to her infantile hobbies of dancing, writing poems and riding horses as he poured himself into the endless amount of books their library contained. He devoured them all like they were a means with which to stay alive, hungrily reading about everything that had to do with gaining power.

But recently he had come across a new book. He would have tossed it aside, though something stayed his hand. It was a medicinal book, full of herbs and their uses. At first he had flicked through it randomly, but soon he read it more thoroughly. He had finished it just an hour ago.

"Mother?" He called out softly, knowing she did not like loud noises. "Mother? I brought you something to drink. A herbal tea. Please, you need to drink something, it is so hot in here. Would you like me to open a window and let some ai-"

"No! Leave them closed, I am fine!"

He smiled to himself, knowing that would get her attention. "Alright, I will leave them be, but please. Drink. Cook says it's a new blend, that it will soothe your nerves." He waited for a response for a long minute, but when none came, he backed away and left.

Well that is what his mother thought at least, as he slipped into the dark corner by the door and waited with bated breath to see if she would drink the tea. Biting his lower lip, he waited impatiently for what seemed like eternity before his mother finally stirred. As she turned in bed towards the side table he tensed, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Pale grey eyes watched as his mother picked up the dainty tea cup and took a sip. He was not worried about the grimace, as she took another longer sip before returning the cup to the saucer. Turning back onto her other side, she made herself comfortable and fell asleep for the last time.

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"He knows."

"Are you sure? Maybe he is just-"

"He knows, Gelion!" Aradan exclaimed hotly, his eye burning with anger. Gone was his usual stony expression, his glare making the older man take several steps back. "Find the rat! Find the one who told him! Bring them to me, immediately!"

Gelion knew better than to argue with Aradan when he was like this and nodded "Right away, M'Lord." Turning on his heel he made for the intricately carved oak door that looked like a troll would have needed to install it, it was that thick and heavy.

Damn it all the void! Aradan placed a slim hand on the mantlepiece as he stared into the fire. He had been so close! So close he could taste it! 2 more weeks and he would be 18. And now, now it was all ruined. Damn that cursed girl and her positive attitude to the void! Now he was going to have to kill them both. Ripping his hand away he turned from the fire and began pacing the expensive rug beneath his feet. Who could have told him? How could he have found out? He had been so careful! Whoever had done this was going to pay, he would see to that..

Gelion did not hesitate after closing the door. With strong determined strides he made it down the long corridors towards the main building. Where to start though? Who could have leaked the information? Surely the old man was just being suspicious, going on a gut feeling. There was no way he could know, they had been so careful, so meticulous with hiding it. With a grumbled sigh he turned the corner and headed towards the servants quarters. Seemed like the best place to start.

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Carpe Diem – Part 13

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Unalmis Raxëlilta
at the Southern Gate/Wall/ .. so very close to Harlond
with Cadil @Pele Alarion @Rillewen


He might have told the Guard what happened though, when he went passing through the gate ahead of us,Unalmis supposed, largely to occupy himself as Cadil looked like he had decided to unpack another picnic from his luggage. But it turned out that his friend was merely securing the bag and it’s contents. “Then however long we waited .. ” The Ranger picked up again, and paused, again. As the massive bag was hoisted up by his accomplice on teetering toes.

Wait, wait !Nal, who had moved up onto the higher branch, to leave Cadil room to hoist himself up onto the lowest, was now considerably out of reach to grasp said bag. “Let me get back down again, so I’m closer,” he advised, Clearly too late, because Cadil was already in position, and looked rather uncomfortable at that. By the time that the one had reached the lower branch, the weight of the bag and the time spent holding it there, was no doubt dragging Cadil’s reach down lower as well.


Finally having secured his position, Unalmis could only reach down with one hand or risk falling down on top of the bag and the young man altogether. His free hand swung infuriatingly back and forth in absurdly comical swipes to seize even the handle loop, but his fingers caught only air on every occasion. The blood was running to his head from hanging practically upside down as well, which did not help. With a sigh, he heaved back up to sit up on the branch, one leg either side to it, and frowned.

What in the Stars have you got in that bag anyway ? Boulders ?” he sighed. This was not going to work. Maybe the gate was the better option after all. But .. but … Oh ! But ..

The rope !!Nal pointed, to what Cadil had coiled clearly close by his belt, and that his friend had only just noticed. “Tie one end of the rope to the bag, throw the other end up to me, and I’ll cross it over the branch. Then we can pull the bag up that way, And then we secure one end of the rope up to the branch, and you can use the other end as well as the wall to hoist yourself up !

Some ways away from the fayreground, the impromptu circus act threatened to recommence.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Cadil with Nal @Ercassie , @Rillewen
Trying to climb over the wall - or such


He waited and waited, it seemed like for a whole eternity, and yet the bag was not taken from his hands.

"Just a few essentials in there, is all," Cadil said defensively, as he eventually dropped the bag down again since his friend had not managed to take a hold of it. It was very likely though that most of what he labelled essential would be discarded from his bag if it was checked by any of the 'serious' Rangers, and perhaps even Nal - seeing that the other lad had brought nothing.

Shaking out his arms a bit, Cadil set about securing the rope to the bag with something that did not look like any particular type of knot, but rather quite a mess of rope. "Well, I sort of meant to use the rope either way," he mumbled, explaining the reason for why he had opened his bag in the first place.

"See if you can catch it now! The rope, I mean," he told Unalmis and tossed at him all the remaining length of rope, thinking that this should be catchable at least.

"Are you sure that we should not rather return to the gate? I'm sure we could figure out how to satisfy the guard and any complaints raised against us," he still wondered whether the easier way of leaving by a 'normal' way would indeed be more convenient than trying to get over the wall who knew where.
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Addhor Raxëlilta with Nelladel Alarion
@Isolde Alarion


I do not think, at this moment, I could come to be more glad than I am right now,” he let his smile meet hers, as hands reveled in that simple contact, “but there you do have a way of always surprising me. And to that I will offer no argument.

Brown eyes sought out green, as Nell somehow managed to make this momentous breakthrough part of just another conversation. As though they – they ! - could simply have such conversations. The conversations they had actually shared, of pastries, and in passing had for so long skated softly upon the surface of things and now, here, they’d gone and broke through the ice. It was both more terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. As was the squeeze of her hand. As was the charge which still felt where he had dared to kiss her.

You say that you could never be sorry,” as his fingers broke apart it was reluctant, “but clearly you do not know your peril,” he felt that he must warn her now, since they were being honest. “For Acorn coffee is something of a subject I might not know how to silence and, according to my son, quite an acquired taste ..

Unalmis had in fact used other words to describe the brew, and most of those had included expletives. Still the drink of it was a good aid for the liver, and quite resolved insomnia, amidst boasting other health attributes. There was a need to prepare the thing properly of course, but there came from that some silent satisfaction from employing a tradition which his forefathers had first recorded, way back before Ithilien was even evacuated of it’s civilians. Addhor was both proud of and partial to the customs which his ancestors had cultivated. And of course pleasantly surprised to hear that Nell had the perfect thing to accompany it.

If there is any thing upon this earth which can not be made better though by something you’ve conjured at that bakery, I have yet to believe it,” he smiled. A glance fell though upon the shrouded project that filled a far corner of the shop. “I still owe you some shelves but ..” he paused, and sighed, unwilling to admit why Narradir had laughed and refused outright to deliver the promised goods, until Addhor came along, with an associated delivery that he ought be able to manage without help. He had never expected his friend to come across the secret, and had been astounded and relieved that the forester had managed to keep it to himself as well as he had.

The words retreated back down his throat, wary of how foolish it would no doubt seem. That the carpenter had been surprised to receive a ticket to the upcoming River Cruise, just for aiding on some emergency (superficial) repair on the ship involved. That he had surprised himself by acknowledging he never could have attended such an event, alone, and had duly insisted to pay for a second ticket. Then actively talked himself out of ever asking the only person he would wish to take, to dare on such a step together, every single day since then.

What Nell must have thought, all this time, of his apparent negligence, or worse, that he had forgotten all about her request … and all the time, he could not think of anything else but whether it might be thought of as crowding her, in light of all that had happened.

Now though, in light of all that had happened.

I think I owe you something more than shelves Nell,” It should not have took but a moment, to locate the small illustrated invitations; still he did not rush the motion, any more than he would wish her to think he was rushing .. them. Separating the two slowly, Addhor extended one ticket toward her, meaningfully retaining it’s partner. “Something more than ‘sorry’,” was promised. "If you will."
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

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Grey Flowers on the Windowsill
Leaving the Celebnand Estates, the Pelennor Fields

(Private)

The world moves to its own beat, a slow, sad rhythm, most people live their whole lives without sensing the deep, indescribable, inexorable isolation that touches air and soil and water. It takes a soul who can see the trudging of the wind, hear the sigh of the tired soil, to feel the deep pain of the earth. She does not like giving up her secrets, but when coaxed, the grey flowers of slow loneliness bloom and spread. Though she has a thousand flowers of a thousand shapes and colors, it is the grey flowers most sought, for with them, comes an understanding that even sad and broken things can produce beauty for which there are no words.

The clipclop-clipclop-clipclop-clipclop of Cote’s hooves were a balm, a centering sound that kept Ruthrrien’s mind from wandering too far afield. They walked down the causeway slowly, plodding, but proud. They were both tired, weariness like winter cold that seeps into the bones. Cote was an old horse; her father had trained him to carry wheat and wool to market. Ruthrrien did not have that excuse. She used to think the weight she felt on her shoulders was the weight of destiny, of greatness and potential. She carried that weight from Anorien to Minas Tirith thinking she would be able to unload it and see the seeds blossom into the greatest of sunflowers and roses. The great city, though, had other plans and other interpretations for the weight she had dragged with her. It was not glorious purpose or destiny; it was the weight of unrealized responsibility. It was the weight of mounting expectations forgotten until they crack the roof’s foundations. She rubbed at her shoulder, massaging away the ghost pains that teased her.

She sighed. Cote whinnied affectionately. It felt like they’d been walking for hours. Her feet didn’t hurt, nor was she sore in any way physically, but each step she took seemed to take forever, and never got her any closer to the goals she’d set out to accomplish, they couldn’t even get her closer to Minas Tirith. She’d been in the Pelennor Fields for three months now. The great snowy city was always there in the periphery, but it was never close enough to touch. Sometimes, on particularly harsh days, she marveled at the fact that she even left her home in Anorien. On worse days, she considered leaving a mistake.

Today was one of those days. She’d been interviewed, no that was the wrong word. She’d been interrogated by at least three families today. Or was it four? They all blended together in the Celebnand Estates, a wealthy subsection of families that could afford to have a manor in the city and a villa in the country. She could still feel their eyes on her. She was like a horse in their eyes, something to be measured and poke and prodded, tested scrutinized, evaluated. She had skills. She could read and write poetry in Westron, old Adunaic, and Sindarin. She could quote the greatest Gondorian philosophers and debate their merits to the scholars writing and theorizing today. She could play the harpsichord, the cello, and the flute, and knew how to teach them as well. She could do complex equations in her head at the drop of a hat. She could debate historiography and anthropology. She could cook meals without breaking a sweat. In short, she was the perfect candidate for governess. Any of these families would be so lucky to have her help their children learn during their formative years. Yet, for some reason or another, each family had rejected her. Each family had a different reason, but they all stemmed from the same place. She was from an approved school or approved location within Gondor. She lived on the fringes, Anorien was almost as much a part of Rohan has it was Gondor. It was a moor riddled land with few villages and fewer Dúnedain. Blood and breeding mattered as much to the people of the Celebnand Estates as poetry and opera. She could learn all the plays and recite the greatest lyrical sagas of the past ages, but she could not make up for the fact that if there was any Dúnedain blood in her it was buried so deep it would never come to light.

She knew it would be hard going in. She’d heard stories of how harsh the upper echelons could be, how heartless and dismissive. But she was Ruthrrien, daughter of Malathir and Cenethdril. She had the patience of a pike and the cleverness of a fox. She could do anything she wanted. Her father had installed within her the belief that she was meant for great things.

She missed her father very much on days like this. It was cold and the sky was as grey as drab stone. Clouds covered everything from horizon to horizon. She could only tell the sun was out because there was some indeterminate light source high above her. The shadows were only a few shades of grey darker than the clouds, blurry wisps that grasped at her footsteps. The winds were slow, but they were bitter and cold. She could feel winter in them, even through her thick red cloak. Cote whinnied again as a blast of cold air threw a whirlwind of leaves in their faces.

One leaf stuck to her cloak, a nearly perfect oak leaf, strident and golden red. She plucked at it and admired it a moment. It looked like one of the leaves she would try and catch when she was younger. The book she used to press all the leaves she could find was still at home. It had been one of those things she couldn’t bring with her, not yet. She missed that book and all the promises it held. That book of leaves and flower petals was a promise of great things to come, of pathways of fulfillment and excitement. She dearly wished she’d brought it with her. A stray breeze picked up and the leaf slipped from her grasp, only to disappear amidst the hundred other brown leaves of midwinter. She rubbed her fingers together where they’d held the leaf, a ghost of a feeling still in them. She sighed and looked to Cote. He’d stopped, the clipclop of his hooves ceased. There was a vast quietness all around her. The road was empty behind and in front of her. Aside from the towering estates and the shining walls in the distance, there was not a thing nor a soul to be seen, must miles of grey green fields and littered stones. It reminded her of home, but only of the cold lonelinesses of the moors.

She scratched Cote’s muzzle and tried to smile. He was a very smart horse. Even from a young age, they could sense each other’s moods. Her mother been incredulous to the idea, as a stolid and clearheaded housewife ought to be, and her father only knowingly laughed. Cote was old, but he was wise. Ruthrrien knew this for a fact. She knew that he was cleverer and sharper eyed that all the horses of the Celebnand Estates. He was of no noble or royal equine bloodline, no mearas could be found in his lineage, but he was better than all the horses that were stabled there. He had experience and temperance and patience. He’d come with her because her father could spare him, because he was too old and wily by half to work with the younger draft horses her father bought. Two peas in a pod they were. She smiled, genuinely this time. Cote nuzzled her. She laughed and scritched his dark colored mane.

The sun would be setting soon and there was a stillness in the air that told her the night’s chill would be greater than any of the nights previous. The little hamlet she was staying in was only a mile or so away. They began moving again. Her steps still felt slow and meaningless. She kept her eyes down, looking at the well-worn stones and the weeds that grew between the cracks. She wiped at a tear of frustration and flicked it away. She would not acknowledge anything like that, not yet. She could feel despair and its leathery claws coming closer and closer, but she would not allow it to wrap her up yet. She could not. She was Ruthrrien and she was meant for great things. If she was to keep going, if she was going to be a governess and tutor, she had to believe that.

In the meantime, an inn awaited her. A kindly innkeeper with a stomach broader than his chest a wife and sister-in-law who ruled the kitchen and brewery with a pair of iron fists and at least half a dozen youngsters. She earned her keep by playing her flute and telling stories by the fire and teaching the children their letters and numbers when she wasn’t out trying (and failing) to secure an elusive contract with the upper-class. The folk of the Rabbit’s Den were good people. They reminded her of her own family. They were welcoming with what little they had and never let a moment go to waste when fun or adventure could be had.

“Any word today?” Odell called when he saw them appear over the lip of the little dell.

“None,” she said, barely audible enough to hear above the wind that had began to twist and play and slap at the ground.

“None, yet” Odell corrected. He put an arm around her and smiled. He was a good man, as full of positivity as he was muscle. Ruthrrien knew she needed that right now. She could feel a dam about to burst behind her eyes so she did nothing but nod. “There’s a stew in the hearth and some strong ale. It’s going to be a wild one tonight. Get Cote nice and warm in the stable and get yourself inside.”

She nodded and smiled. He saw the tenuous floodgates glistening and kissed her forehead. He was back to chopping wood before she found her voice. The inn was bustling tonight. She could hear a dozen distinct voices and the stables were nearly full as well. She led Cote to his stall and fed him a crisp winter apple that he chomped gratefully. She removed his saddle and hung it on the wall. She performed each task mechanically, doing her best to keep the tears at bay. She failed though, as she started to comb the matts and burrs and leaves from Cote’s coat. “How long am I going to have to keep this up? How much longer am I going to be able to keep getting poked and prodded like a pig at the fair? Cote, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

He whinnied and stamped a foot as if to say “Keep going, keep moving.

“I don’t know how long I can keep it up. They all look at me like I’m just some farm girl. Like I’m some fool with notions of grandeur or designs on their sons.” She laughed through the tears. Marriage and boys were the furthest things from her mind. She wanted so much more than a husband with fumbly fingers and a gold waistcoat. She wanted libraries and amphitheaters. She hugged Cote and let out the rest of her tears before feeding him another apple and a carrot for good measure. “Thank you for listening,” she whispered.

She entered the inn through the kitchens, waving to Haldis and Walda as she slipped upstairs to her room. She shed her thick cloak and placed it on the hook by the window. The sky was darkening, and tiny flecks of flakes were popping against the window. They touched the glass and melted. She touched the spot where a particularly large flake landed and shone before dissolving back into liquid. It was going to be a long, cold night. It was a night for ghost stories and somber cello music. She could smell the stew Odell told her about, the smell of well-seasoned pork and cabbage stew permeated the air and gave everything a hint of warmth. She wiped the residual tears from her cheeks and stood before the door several moments, breathing in and out, doing her best to put the day behind her. There were always going to be hard grey days. There were always going to be lonely nights with cackling winds and nobles who didn’t know their own ass from their elbows. Ruthrrien would be damned if she was going to let them win. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d come here with a goal and she never failed to reach her goals.

What stories would she tell tonight? The Ash-Tree? A story about a town that tried to stop a witch by putting her in a tree? Lost Hearts? The story of two children growing up with a cold father on a haunted hill? She smiled and licked her lips. No, a night like this called for The Headless Horseman.

She took a final deep breath and opened her door.

🧚
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Carpe Diem – Part 14

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Unalmis Raxëlilta
at the Southern Gate/Wall/Harlond
with Cadil and Ademar @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

For all that Nal had doubted the need for supplies, Cadil had proved that his forethinking to bring a rope at least, would be quite useful. It might be argued that there would be no need for rope at all if there were not an entire bag of ‘essentials’ to heave around and up into trees with them, but Unalmis had not come here to argue. Else he might as well have chased after Iole in all of her foul temper.

This is why I did not need to bring any great bag of things,” the Ranger watched his friend securing what looked at least like an infallible knot. “I had only to bring you ..” he grinned. It was not entirely the case that he had brought nothing. An empty water flask counted as potential at the least, and the knife .. he checked in a sudden panic, if it were still where he had stowed it .. Yes. An immense sigh of relief escaped the young man. The knife his father had gifted him on their first trek out into Ithilien together. He kept it with him mostly to make sure he did not lose it by leaving it anywhere that he was not.

A hardy tail of rope soon whipped up from below, and Unalmis caught it on his second try. There was after all a very delicate balance in gathering to grasp the cord whilst not losing his grip upon the perch. A flick of his head saw hair out of his eyes, and a wide smile dropped, as he fed the rope over the branch and back down to his friend. Cadil was still campaigning for them to go back to the Gate, as though this were not far more exciting than standing in the hot sun and a tiresome queue would prove to be.

Good job on the rope,” he leant encouragement as his friend leant strength toward hauling the bag up over the branch. Nal was just easing into a better position, where he could both aide the bag’s arrival and where best to stow it, when the bough which had managed to hold the weight of one young man, proved it would not cater for two. Or at least not for one young man and a bag of ‘essentials’.

With an almighty creak, the wood failed and the branch snapped with a horribly familiar noise that recalled a fractured wrist of the past. Unalmis was fortunate not to suffer such an injury again as he fell, with the rope and what small height the bag had managed by that point. Rubbing his head, as he picked himself up from the grass, beside the severed bough, the Ranger shook his head. He'd taken far worse tumbles, but appeared to be unbroken. Which was more than could be said for their escape plan.


You win,” he laughed. “I guess we’ll have to try the gate after all. Let’s hope though it’s not one of the more irksome guards on duty. You’re not hurt, are you ? I’ve had some practice medical training, you know. So if you require some bandaging ?

Although it sounded only some parts like he had planned the entire escapade to experiment his training on a friend, Offering a hand to Cadil in untying the rope from the bag, Nal had to admit that to that young man’s credit, the knot was not easy to come loose at all. “Yes, good job on the rope,” he applauded, at the irony.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

Child of Gondor
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Nelladel w/ Addhor
@Ercassie

Peril? Her brows dipped momentarily in question but the answer caused her to smile once more. Acorn coffee. She thought she recognized the aroma. Her brothers often drank it when they were out amongst the wilds. Even going so far as to gather acorns and carry a stash with them on longer trips. It seemed he had a taste for it, acquired as it was. She didn’t mind it although she often had to have something to accompany it with to cut it’s strength.

Her smile grew as he spoke of his belief of her having something at the bakery to accompany the drink. As their hands parted she watched him glance to the corner where something sat shrouded. Ahh .. it was the shelves she’d commissioned. She’d wondered about their progress but wasn’t willing at the time to check on them due to her lack of nerve at seeing him again.

He owed her something? She started to protest and even took a breath to do so but watching him retrieve something her brows wrinkled with curiosity as she watched him move it seemed with slow measure to return to her with something in hand which he extended towards her as he held the other in his hand.

She gently took what he offered and brought to study it and it’s beauty. A River Cruise ticket! “Oh Addhor..” She nearly gasped in surprise. She was about to say it was too much but she looked up at him and knew how much it took him to even ask her. Her smile reached her eyes and she nodded twice. “I would be honored to accompany you. Thank you.” Her gratitude shown in her smile and before she could stop herself she rose up on her toes and placed a gingerly kiss on his cheek. Once more on flat ground she seemed to blush slightly from her boldness but her smile never faded as she beamed up at him.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

Steward of Gondor
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@Ercassie
Image
Ademar Androllius (wearing uniform of Lt. of the Watch)
Pelennor - an abandoned, burned down old farmhouse

The day before the events of the Carpe Diem story


The old farmhouse was only a shell of its former self. Though the barn was reduced to ashes and charred timber, the stone house still stood, an empty hull amid burned rubble. Ademar stood in what used to be a path; a path he had walked many times on his way to and from school. A long walk for such a small boy, not that his parents ever cared. Out here, at what felt like the very edges of the Pelennor, the little farm had drawn less attention to itself during the destruction brought upon by the orcs. While they had razed other farms and homes to the ground, they overlooked this one, possibly due to its isolated location. Fire alone had wrought destruction here, spreading along the fields from the nearest neighbor. If Mar had to guess, the forces of Mordor had probably never realized this little place was here, as it was so far from all the others. Or, upon deeper reflection, he couldn't help wondering if there was some other force involved in preserving his childhood home, for that was surely what Pharak would say.

It was not with any fondness that Mar gazed at the ruin of his childhood home, remembering his early years spent here. He wouldn’t even be here, but for the worry that had been gnawing at him ever since discovering an ‘ally’ using this place as a hideout. Why here? What had led Arkhadur to this place, where Mar had grown up? Could it really be a coincidence? Sure, it was about the only place in all of Pelennor which was not rebuilt after the War, which still stood desolate and abandoned, but Mar couldn’t help wondering if there might be more than chance at work here. The sly Umbarian might have come to this particular farm for a reason. Thus, Mar had come here to investigate, hoping he might find some clue that would give him insight as to Ark’s real reason for being here, of all places.

He studied the ruin before him, searching for anything that might interest someone of Ark’s nature. As far as he could tell, there were no visible signs to connect it to Ademar, nor to his brother. Mar had purchased a far better plot of land for his parents, and sent them off to live in Anfalas, so that he needn’t worry about anyone connecting Mar to them, and thus chancing upon what he wished to keep a secret; that he and Ric were twins. With his parents gone to live elsewhere, there was no need to maintain this run-down old place. They never did very well here, anyway. He sighed, casting his gaze over the overgrown fields that always failed his father. Only grass grew there now, which is about the only thing that ever wanted to grow there. Mar shook his head, pushing aside the memories of the retired army sergeant yelling at him and his brother to do this, or do that. There was nothing outside that could possibly draw the attention of a man like Arkhadur, so perhaps it was something inside.

The interior of the stone house showed far more evidence of damage. All the insides of the house had burned away; all decor, furniture…everything that could burn was gone. The scorched stone walls were all that remained, along with piles of charred wood. He kicked a pile of rubble out of his way as he strode in, studying the inside. Still, nothing. Nothing at all to indicate who may have once lived here. Was he missing something? Glancing around his old home, Ademar frowned and looked around each room. What was Ark after? Mar tapped his chin thoughtfully, pondering on this long and hard. There wasn’t much left here at all. In fact, there was only one thing in this whole place that might be dangerous to Mar, but only if one knew that it connected him to a murder. He frowned, remembering those daggers he’d hidden in his secret hiding place, so many years ago. No one but Mar knew of that hiding place, but what if Ark had found it? He was aware of the man’s particular ‘skills’ in finding ways to blackmail others… and Mar had no intention of giving him anything to use against him in that regard.

The trapdoor to the root cellar had burned away along with all the other wooden things, but the stone steps going down into the darkness were fine, if a bit crumbled with age. Mar lit a candle and kicked some of the charred boards from the door aside before starting down into the dark cellar. He used to play here sometimes, as a child. His brother never wanted to come down there. It was dark and spooky, Ric said. That was one reason Mar liked it there so much. He smiled faintly to himself as he slowly descended. Halfway down the steps, a sound startled him. Mar froze, his gaze snapping toward the direction the muffled noise had come from. A person? He frowned.. he recognized that sound, though it was very unexpected. Someone was in his cellar, bound and gagged. He held the candle up, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the edge of its light, until he made out the dim figure huddled in the corner, trying to get his attention, probably hoping to be rescued. A woman he'd never seen before. Mar glanced around, making sure there were no other surprises waiting in the other corners, before approaching slowly, his interest piqued. Slowly, he stepped closer and looked over the bound woman curiously. There was very little doubt about who had left her here, but who was she?
Last edited by Rillewen on Tue Oct 04, 2022 5:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Istari Sage
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Lossarnach
6 years ago
(Private - flashback)

It was a hot summer day in the Vale of Flowers and Romeran and Brega were playing in the woods. “Bet you can’t beat me to the tree line!” Brega yelled to Romeran, already sprinting towards the trees. “No fair! you have a head start!” Romeran exclaimed, but ran after her nevertheless. “You snooze, you lose!” She responded, laughing. Brega arrived at the tree line first and raised her hands in celebration “I win!”, Romeran was barely a stride behind her, closer than they had been when they started. “Only because you cheated,” Romeran protested. “When you started running you accepted the challenge as is, Rome” she countered, sounding suddenly very official. Romeran laughed, she always knew how to argue her way out of something.

Romeran and Brega sat down in the grass before the tree line, sucking in air furiously. They had run as only children do, or those running for their lives. Not a minute later, Romeran leaped to his feet and jumped on a fallen log, pulling the wooden ‘sword’ from his belt. He pointed the wooden sword down at Brega menacingly, a wide grin on his face “In defense of my honor” he said in the best noble voice he could muster “I challenge thee to a duel!” Brega stood quickly and drew a similar wooden ‘sword’, which in truth were simply the straightest sticks they had found, and crossed Romeran’s sword in acceptance of the challenge.

The sound of sticks clacking resonated across the trees as the two young adults, Romeran and Brega were considered young adults now having recently turned thirteen, mock dueled through the woods. Brega danced nimbly through the thicket, skillfully keeping Romeran at bay who thundered through the branches snapping and cracking them as he moved. Brega had Romeran on the retreat now, he was backing away slowly at first but soon he was moving, one foot behind the other, as fast as he could. Romeran tripped backward, falling to the ground with a surprisingly soft ‘thud’. Brega dashed up, mock sword pointing down and began to proclaim victory “surrender Rome—” but she cut herself off with a scream.

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Ranger Recruit Romeran
The Pelennor Farmsteads -- Duinion's Farm

@Rillewen

Anxiety washed over Romeran, he had been nervous when he went to the HQ to join up with the rangers in the first place but now he was really nervous. He was also excited, so excited, in fact, that he was still going despite the nerves which was making him feel sick. Romeran usually felt hungry. He was making his way to Ranger Duinion's farm. Ranger Pele had mentioned that he was likely to be found on his farm in the Pelennor. She hadn't elaborated further. Luckily when Romeran went to get his uniform -- they had a hard time finding one big enough to fit Romeran's shoulders -- he was able to get some directions from the armorer.

Romeran had seen some of the farms in the Pelennor before, they were similar to his own farm, well his uncle's farm, in Lossarnach, not nearly as big though. Romeran watched as some of the farmers went about their daily tasks, it wasn't long ago that he was doing much the same. He didn't miss it, yet. He went over the directions in his head again. He wished that he had written them down. Luckily he managed to find the place after only a little wandering around and doubling back. Romeran was glad he had left early.

Scratching his beard, Romeran paused for a moment. He looked down the roadway to the farmstead and wondered if he'd have to knock or if he'd find the ranger outside. He took a deep breath and pushed open the gate onto Duinion's Farm. This would be the first time he would meet his first Ranger master, he hoped he would make a good impression.

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@Romeran

Ranger Duinion, with Erynneth
Out in the pasture - Daisy Dairy Farm

There were very few things more boring than watching cows graze, but someone had to ensure that they were not attacked by wolves or coyotes, or bothered by other predators. The dairy farm relied on the milk from the cows to make a profit, and to loose even one would cause a great deal of problems for the farmer. Thus, in the interest of having a reason to stay nearby when not on duty, Duinion had agreed to act as protector to the farm's livelihood, with the understanding that they would have to find a fill-in for when he wasn't off-duty from the rangers. He didn't sit idly, however. The ranger roamed around frequently, taking a head count to make sure they were all accounted for, and other such things while he waited for Erynneth to finish her chores each day. Then, the rest of the day didn't pass so slowly, and Duinion cherished every bit of time that he could get with his little girl, though she wasn't really 'little' anymore, at fifteen-years-old.

The target was only a sack tied to have the general form of a torso and head, stuffed with straw, and painted to kind of resemble an orc. Courtesy of Eryn's artistic skills, going by her father's descriptions. The auburn-haired young woman stood a few paces ahead of her father, focused very intently on the 'orc' as she took her time aiming... trying to keep all of his tips in mind so that she might improve upon the last time she fired... but then, a motion caught her eye in the distance. She paused, looking past the target, and lowered her bow. "Daddy..." She turned to inform him of her observation, only to see that his gaze was already locked onto the stranger making his way down the path to the distant farmhouse.

"I see him," Duinion strode past his daughter, watching curiously as the stranger let himself through the gate, purposely moving toward the house. "He's wearing a ranger uniform," He observed softly, and immediately guessed that the other man was looking for him. Putting fingers to his mouth, the ranger let out a whistle that carried across the meadow, intending to get the ranger's attention. Together, father and daughter watched to see whether the stranger would join them further out, or if his business was, in fact, with those in the house.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Ranger Recruit Romeran
Out in the pasture - Daisy Dairy Farm
@Rillewen

Barely a quarter of the way down the lane to the house, Romeran heard a whistle, a remarkably loud whistle, he thought. He looked over towards the pastures from where the sound had come. He could see two figures over there. One was a girl, younger than Romeran if he had to guess, the other, the whistler, was a man, old enough he guessed that he could be the girl's father, although he couldn't really be sure.

Romeran wasn't sure what Duinion was supposed to look like, but he figured if someone was trying to get his attention -- which he clearly was -- that he probably shouldn't be bothering the people in the house and he would be better off speaking with them first. Romeran took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves mixed with excitement. The girl seemed to be carrying a bow, he looked down past them and saw the dummy 'orc' which he presumed they had been using as target practice, maybe this was Ranger Duinion? He thought, I better be at my best.

Before he set off after them, Romeran quickly scanned the field he would have to cross, concerned that he would disturb any of the farmer's fields. He tried to follow what appeared to be the path that at least one or two other people had taken into the field after Ranger Duinion and Erynneth. Having worked on a farm for most of his life, Romeran was acutely aware of how irritating it was when people traipsed through his fields disturbing the crops or livestock.

When he got closer to the two he straightened his posture up, trying to stand tall and with his chest up, the way he imagined rangers were supposed to stand. This only managed to emphasize just how bear-like Romeran appeared, especially with his hair and beard. He bowed his head in greeting as he arrived "My lord" he said nodding to Ranger Duinion, "My lady" he did the same to Erynneth. If his mother had taught him anything it was manners; he wasn't really sure what a 'proper introduction' was in Minas Tirith, but he would at least try.

"I am ranger recruit Romeran -- although most people call me Rome" he said in introduction. "Ranger Pele instructed me to find and seek training from Ranger Duinion." Romeran looked Duinion over, he certainly had that 'ranger look', he thought having seen more than a handful of the experienced ones "That wouldn't happen to be you, my lord?" he asked.

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Relic
Watching the gates of the White City


She was there, she could nearly smell her. Then again the place left a foul stench in her nostrils. It smelled of too many people in too small a place. Now she knew the smell of human pain and suffering but even that was carried away with the hot wind that blew across Umbar but this place..all she could do was snort her disgust.

If she was to have what she wanted with all her little black heart she would have to go through those gates and bend their feeble minds to her will. She was confidant in her skill and the sacrifices, literally, she’d made to gain all she would need to attain her goal. Why go through all the trouble you may ask?

It was simple really. An itch she couldn’t scratch. She’d had her in the palm of her hand and she’d escaped with the help of her treacherous house slave and perhaps others. Just couldn’t enslave good help nowadays it seemed. She payed for her betrayal though. Now it was time for others to pay, and pay they would.

The rather plan cloak she wore served a purpose, to hide in plain sight. Under their noses as it were and to give her freedom. Freedom to move around the city unhindered. Another tool was used to hide her appearance. Under the depth of the cloaks hood she closed her crystalline eyes and murmured the dark words. Those, paired with the blood she’d sacrificed she was able to conjure the Shine.

To the unsuspecting eye she would appear plain, ordinary. Flaming locks faded into a dull brown, faint freckles appeared across the bridge of her nose. Her sun kissed skin paled and when her eyes opened again they sparkled like two deep dark, soulless pools. The depth of which once could fall into if they weren’t careful. Blinking they settled into amber.

Satisfied with the effects she moved on to the next phase of her plan. Getting past the guards. Just then she noticed a wagon filled with bleating sheep. They would do. Making her way to the back of the wagon she came to stand and wait, blending in as the sheep eyed her with suspicion and fear. Familiar looks from behind their wooden rails. She pulled her cloak tighter and to complete her ruse she reached out and stroked the velvety nose of the nearest one as a guard walked around the wagon and it’s inhabitants. To their eyes she was simply the shepards daughter tending their charges and once satisfied they were waved through, she followed behind as the gate faded in the distance through the crush of people and wagons and wares.

She was in. Now it was time to find her way to the Army’s grounds and give that itch a good scratch..
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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