A Recurrent Theme...(a please join me, tale)

[Scarfair]

OOC: By all means, Aragorn, Hawk. If any who come upon this thread find something within their quills to contribute, please feel entirely free and welcome! Location: The Grey Mtns, north of Mirkwood, just east of Mt Gundabad. Time: Little under five years past the War of the Ring. Characters: standard Tolkien fare. (I've had to take liberties with the creation of Sligroth and using the House of Arahael this way, hopefully not outrageously so...)

I will await your entries, then Estren's thread will meet with The Elf and The Lady plus any characters that have joined, unless your intros cannot be entered by tomorrow. In which case you may have to catch up or intersect our party. Let's make some tale!

[Feraway Hawkbriar]

*erk*...yowch..I'll have to sit this one out then, none of the charecters I currently have would have any buisness being past Rivendell. But I will happily watch this Rp as it promises to be quite good reading.

[CardenIAntauraNauco]

OOC:As far as I can tell Estren never met lady midnight's character. So if this is off...keep posting like it doesn't exist.

Estren fell at his brothers grave. A tear grew heavy and fell from his eye. Here was a sign that he was not alone in his vengence. His tear was one of sorrow yet one of hope. It contradicted the hard face of the warrior as it moved to his jaw.

His eyes shut for a short period of time. It was the first time he had in a long while to think about what had happened. It was the first time he had let the loss hurt him, He recalled the words of the Eomer, The Valiant Son of Theoden at Pelennor Field, "Mourn not too much, Mighty was the fallen, meet was his ending. When his mound is raised, women shall weep. War now calls us!". It was time too leave, war now called him. He opened his eyes and left the grave of his brother.

He had only walked a few steps when he noticed a marked trail of hoofprints. They had began to fill in with snow but they were still traceable. He looked briefly toward the east and started to track the creature be it friend or foe. He cautiously ascended up a small knoll along a naked forest edge. The tracks kept along the side of the forest as it transversed the small hill.

He neared the top of the hill and saw the valley below. He saw black dots covering the cround in a large. He was filled with rage and ran to greet the slayer of these men. His heart pumped and his eyes moved about quickly scanning every tree for the wargs that he was certain were still here as he neared the bodies he began to that thier shapes were that of the Warg. He chuckled to himself as he sheathed his sword.

He walked cautiously through the slain bodies of the warg. There were both the cut of swords and the pierce of arrow alike in their bodies. He looked behind him to make certain he was not being trailed. He looked at the opposite edge of the gore and somthing caught his eye near the horizon. A horse traveling towards Cardiric Mithrin. A tall man walked near the horse and its rider. Estren ran towards the party along behind their view...

[CardenIAntauraNauco]

OOC: !!! 5 people wrote in before I finished my last post so it doesn't make any sense anymore!

[Lady Midnight]

(OOC- no your post is fine Carden. Except that my character didn't actually get her horse back so I'll have to edit that in.)

The Lady rode on, the young Elf at her side. She did not know why, out of all the death and decay she had seen over the years, the sight of the young warrior's body should affect her the way that it did. She was silent as she rode and her companion asked no questions of her.

An uneasy feeling grew in her heart as she realised they were being followed. It could be more Wargs. Motioning to Jaden to stay, the Lady brought her sword about and doubled back on herself, drawing her sword ready for a fight.

It was not Wargs but a lone warrior. Experience had taught the Lady that few people could be trusted so she kept her blade unsheathed just in case. She approached the young warrior and said:

"Who are you Sir? Why do you follow us?"

[Scarfair]

Estren stepped from the eaves along the trail, revealing himself to the Lady in all his blood and sweat-soaked extremities. She looked hard upon him, and who could blame her? Caked and scabbed blood ran from his long, dark hair and onto his worn and rugged face. The grey eyes that once looked upon the world with unabashed gladness and a noble hope, now shifted sullenly, as though unwilling to look at anything on earth without making a threat projection of it first. A strong jaw that might have been considered kingly in earlier times, now flexed with pent anger and clenched teeth, making a permanent frown of his thin lips. He wore only a stained leather jurkin on his back, riddled with holes and stiff with the frozen peachia of blood and wolf-gore. Pants and boots that looked like beggar's fare covered his legs and feet. He stank.

But his sword told a different tale, for no thief nor common roader would dare wear such a blade. From her own warrior training she could see that he carried and held it as though he owned it long before his body ever grew to outsize it.

Estren bowed his head, and tried a smile. It was not a pleasant sight. 'Forgive me, Lady. I seek those who buried my brother. It is a turn I would work to repay.'

'Aye,' she answered carefully, 'We did mound here a warrior. No payment is necessary for acts done of common decency.'

'Nevertheless. You and the Elf have fought well, here. You hunt deeper into a wood that seems suddenly full of death and danger. You are valiant, and I must wonder if perhaps we hunt the same killer.' Estren thumbed an edge of his blade and sheathed it. 'If you seek Sligroth, I would gladly pace with you the trail to his end. I have been on that very track, myself, a week and gone. I am Estren, last son of Esthen, minor lord of Arnor. You have laid to rest my only brother, Agron. For the kindness you have shown us, I would offer thee my blade.' Estren bowed an ache filled bow. 'I would know the name of one and any who would aid the House of Arahael, we are in your debt...'

The Lady looked into the eyes of the fell mask he bore. Trust is never an easy coin to part with, yet good will tell of good, and her deadly enemy seemed his also. She knew of the Dunedain, she could in part claim kinship with them, as well as having drawn swords beside them many times. Yet she had never met one of the House of Arahael, that name was Gondor born and bred. Still good will tell of good, and she decided to trust...

[Lady Midnight]

At the mention of Sligroth the Lady's face grew hard and her hazel-brown eyes bore a cold, bitter look. It was a look Estren knew well: one brought about by years of the cruellest torment. It was there for only a moment before she turned her face away, trying to keep back the rage she could not help but feel every time she heared that name. Estren knew that rage and why she should feel it . His suspicions that the Lady had suffered much at the hands of Silgroth and his evil hordes were proved correct when, embarrassed by her emotion, she turned to him and said:

"Forgive me Sir but I am the Lady Caelan of BainÃ*n Fidean. Tis true we share a common foe. I accept the offer of your blade."

He had heared of the massacre at BainÃ*n Fidean. Who hadn't? Even now, years later, the name was only whispered in hushed tones, as though a similar fate might befall those who spoke of it. Estren looked at Caelan in surprise. For it was said that no-one survived that massacre.

Caelan noticed the look on Estren's face. It was a reaction she had seen many times before, although the most common one was for people to shun her slightly as though they believed she had escaped the fate of her family by some foul means. But Estren's expression was only one of grim sympathy.

"I would offer you a ride but Liath is unused to strangers. shall we go?" said Caelan. Estren agreed and they went deeper into the forest to the place where Jaden was waiting for them.

[Aragorn]

*Alright, here we go.*

In the bushes, eyes watched the events taking place. If you knew where to look, and you look hard enough. You could make out the shape of a man. He saw as the lady called out the stranger. As they conversed about a dead brother. Something about Sligroth...Sligroth...how the man hated that vile creature. It had killed his family. Soon, very soon, he would have his revenge on the Warg.

Maybe these people could help the man on his quest for vengance. He would have to wait and see. For now, he had to wait. This was getting interesting.

*There we go. *

[CardenIAntauraNauco]

Estren made a stiff motion with his arm as to silence the party. He sprang across the snow without a sound. Upon nearing the shrub he pulled back his sword and charged it's edge through the bush seperating the small limbs from their stock. The creature had pulled itself from behind the bush and had managed to sneak a round scyth to Estren's neck. "Dont move" it said imperitavely "or I shall cut your head from its owner". His assaultant had just the time to say this before he felt a blow that sent him sprawling backwards.
Estren bent and picked up the scythe. In an instant Jaden had notched and prepared the arrow for it's flight. "Be ye a friend of Silgroth or a friend of our band? Be mindful for your answer will be also the answer of your will to remain alive.

[Agburanar]

Hello. I'm new and don't really know what to do. How about this:
And they all got crushed by a big heavy boulder, hahaha laughed the one remaining Balrog. Damn, said Gandalf, forgot about him.

Maybe not.

"That depends, are you a friend of that green-cloaked scum who's been wandering in these parts, lighting fires and hacking wildly at trees? Do you, perhaps know his name or guess his means? I read more from your band than you guess my friends."

[Aragorn]

*Alright, please don't go making assumptions about my character. First off, he carries no sycthe, but a long sword. Second off, he is no creature, he is a man, just like your character. Third off, he's just as good as fighting as you are, so don't assume my character is some pathetic creature like gollum.*

The man spat.

"Never, never call me a friend of Sligroth. I vowed to hunt that vile creature down long ago."

[Scarfair]

Well thanks Agburanar! I asked for people to join who could contribute to the tale, apparently that word 'contribute' goes beyond your vocabulary. I'll use smaller words for you next time...

[Agburanar]

My abject apologies. I'm more used to writing my own complete stories and this one's too developed for my inventive plotlines. More boulders! (The boulder thing was a joke, in case you didn't realise).

[Scarfair]

Uh yeah. The LotR lame jokeboard is found on another page. Look under the heading of: I thought Arwen's part in the movie was great!!

How about a joking character within the tale? Could you handle that? This is an RP forum, after all...

[Agburanar]

Ooh. Maybe I go join some people and play D+D instead then.

Sorry. I try but it doesn't work so I'll leave you in peace (crawls away head bowed, aahs from crowd)

[CardenIAntauraNauco]

ooc- Aragorn, don't start with the offended act. I was just trying to give you a chance to say what you were. I knew you were a man but since it is written giving only Estren's point of view I was calling you a creature because that what he thought you were. The reason I chose a scythe is because I thought you might like a more original weapon. As for your creature being a wimp you got your Scythe around Estren's neck I thought that might make you happy... but I will refrain from using your character in anyway in the future. All right everybody let's start with Aragorn in the bush. Forget the post after that.

[CardenIAntauraNauco]

ooc: Since Aragorn appears to have left I will contiunue...if you have any objections say so.


Estren saw a figure drop from the trees. He had the brightest of eyes he had seen of any creature. The green of his eyes was dark in hue but shone with a brilliant shine. He wore a dark green cloth across his mouth and his jaw which he dropped upon aproaching the the rider. " A duendain..." He said under his breath " this is well".

ooc..there hopefully that will get us out of the rut.

[Lelondul]

“Well met Estren…and company.� The green eyes met Estren’s for a moment, and an curt, acknowledging nod was offered the others. The voice was soothe yet raspy, befitting one of such countenance. A short, coarse beard clung to the jaw and his teeth flashed white.

He strode toward the group, and paused only momentarily to wrench an intact arrow from the neck of a wolf-corpse that lay close. With a quick wipe, it was cleaned on the snow and added to his near-empty quiver. He met Estren mid-clearing and their hands clasped the other’s forearm in a firm shake. Estren’s eyes lit like a tongue of flame given to dry kindling.

“We tried to reach you in the storm as the wargs closed in, but so fey was thier mien, and great thier numbers, there was little chance. I did what I could, though I fear the others lost…� The grave man’s head lowered in a sorrow so deep, it’s sincerity was unquestionable. Then the eyes became even more terrible if possible, for a tear welled up, and issued forth and then froze on his cheek in the biting wind. Lodryn Obrôth was of the group of Rangers seperated from Estren's band, he alone survived.

“The grievous events of this day shall not go unremembered friend. Nor the heroic deeds…� Replied Estren, only now able to show some sympathy past his own consuming rage. Estren turned his head and knelt, his stomach heaved at the onset of another wave of grief.

“Come all, let us find some shelter from this accursed wind.� Said Lodryn flatly as he lifted his friend to his feet. He took special notice of the fair lady and the elf – an elf no less! And thought if nothing, an interesting tale by a fire would soon be heard.

ooc: it appears there is a Dunadan spot to fill. Indeed then, I shall attempt to humbly provide *bows*

[Scarfair]

'Lodryn...' Estren smiled a true smile of relief, and for the first time his mask changed to something human. ' I feared the worst, my friend...I should of known better.'

Lodryn waved a heavy hand back, towards the barrow. 'That is?' he asked, steeling himself for an answer he already knew in his heart.

'It is Agron.' Estren said, simply.

Lodryn turned for a moment, silently wishing speed to the spirit of his best friend. 'Go and rest upon Amon Hen, the place you liked best...my friend. I will avenge thee, through all the wounds and strife thrown upon me, do not fear, I will avenge thee!' he whispered with quiet, cutting breath.

Estren knew without hearing what his fellow Ranger stood so still about. He waited until the archer's shoulders slumped, and when Lodryn turned, their eyes met with granite agreement upon the vow. Neither would leave these mountains until Sligroth and his filthy Wargs were mere bloodstains upon the snow.

The gale and cold came up again, as though the mighty Northwind knew that the shadow in it's midst was now seriously challenged. While the party moved deeper into sheltering trees, the Northwind sang it's own counterpoint to the cries of death and the calls for battle that would ensue beneath it's raging storm, howling and biting with sleet and driving snow. One can only assume that the Northwind approved.

[Griffin]

Jaden watched the events with a careful eye.

He was weary of this new company but he would not say anything.

He agreed that they should get clear of this place but did not know of anywhere to do so.