Sands of Harad: RPG

[Curubethion]

Lady Willow's voice drifted high into the sky, as she sang an elvish lament. She stood in Rath Dinien, at the fore of the procession. The white stone felt cold under her feet, and the wind blew coolly before her. Behind her, seven men carried the litter with Curmaar's body on it. The moon shone pale over them all.

As they slowly walked down the Silent Street, they were followed by others: Elnar, Faramir and his sons, Acalewia, Alatar and some rangers, Gimli, Makoin...and at the fore was King Elessar. As they came within sight of the doors of the Hallows, the crowd stopped, and the eight people entered alone, bearing Curmaar with them. Their steps rang hollowly on the stone floor, and they seemed to glide over to an alcove inside the house.

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'," she whispered as the litter was lowered onto a shelf. "My heart shall weep until it sees thee again."

Curmaar's eyes were closed in a peaceful sleep; his hands were folded across his chest. The procession left the building, slowly, led by Lady Willow.
~~~~~~~~
"Hold!" shouted Curamir, and the rangers stopped. Slowly, they eased the bier that carried a man-Curmaar-to the ground. The hot wind blew around them, stirring up the sand. Sweat dripped down the brow of Faramir's son. He looked around, and turned to his men.

He asked, "Where's the map?"

Each of the rangers uncomfortably looked around, shuffling their feet. Curamir repeated the question, and waited for a response. Finally, Atarion, the young one, stepped forward. He looked from side to side, and then stared directly at his captain.

"We've lost it, Curamir," he told the Ranger. "Now what?"

Curamir growled. "Look what you've done. This is likely to be the death of us all. Come on-let's head west. I saw what may be some water that way, on the horizon."

The procession started again, slowly crawling in that direction. The sun beat down upon the cloaks worn by all of them.