The Gates of Mirkwood: RPG

[Tessar]

“Remind me, again, what we’re doing here?” the voice came, tinged with boredom and annoyance. The speaker was a young girl—pretty and slim. Just past her fifteenth birthday, she still retained the edge of girlishness in her tone, but by her looks she could’ve easily been two or three years older than she was. The man she addressed was as old as she was young, and although he’d never say his age for sure, his remaining hair was pure white, and he certainly wasn’t as fast.

The two sat in the room of an Inn, typical of the cheap accommodations here in Bree. A thin rug covered rough floorboards, and the curtains that covered the little window were faded. The beds were comfortable enough though, and it was on one of them that the girl, Sarah, was laying and staring up at the dirty ceiling.

The dirt on that roof must be nearly as old as Grandpa Eaol, Sarah thought, so bored even her own humor failed to amuse her as she waited for the inevitable answer.

Eaol sighed and looked up from the letter he was writing, his spidery hand stretching across the page in a code even Sarah didn’t know. Only one or two men could translate it, and in the morning a messenger would be taking it up on a long trip north. “Because: I am in charge of investigating things that Harn and other Rangers turn up. Now if you want to continue coming along with me on these trips, when they’re safe enough, you’ll mind not to ask me that again.”

“Yes grandpa,” Sarah muttered, rolling over onto her stomach and letting out a great sigh. She was undeniably bored. She’d thought it’d be exciting to see the world south of her home, but Eaol wouldn’t let her leave the Inn without him, saying Bree wasn’t a safe place for a young lady to be out along in.

There was one thing that interested her greatly though. One person, actually. Harn, the mysterious Ranger that her grandfather seemed to know so well, and who was extremely good looking… at least in her opinion.

“Do try to get some sleep Sarah, and I promise I’ll take you out tomorrow, once the messenger’s off,” Eaol promised, pretending not to notice the way Sarah jerked up into a sitting position before flopping down limply and letting out a most unlady-like snore. She had her moments of maturity, but she was still young, and quite prone to girlish drama.

Reading over the important letter he’d just finished, Eaol folded it and marked it with his seal. Not a wax one, but instead an ink blot—seeming random, but a signal to the man his message was intended for.

It seemed Orcs were indeed scouting out Bree. Harn had been correct to write as he had, although the sight of Orcs so far south and east was a surprise—unlooked for and most certainly unwanted.

And now I’m trapped here. I can’t risk trying to get back north with Sarah, not with orc patrols running around so freely. I was an idiot to bring her, but I assumed it was a small patrol, and would be dealt with by now.

Unsettled by these thoughts, Eaol wrapped a ribbon around the letter and sat back, contemplating what he should do next.

~*~

Surrounded by the soft murmur of talk and beer mugs bumping against wooden tables, a man sat alone, sipping from a half-empty mug of his own and watching the doorway expectantly.

Harn was relieved. Kalin, a friend of his from Mirkwood, was headed to Bree, and by Harn’s calculations the elf should be arriving tonight. Kalin had promised to bring a friend of his along as well, and Harn would be glad of any help in picking off this Orcish patrol. It was unusually large and well armed for any Orc outfit; even battalions weren’t always as well put together.

Another relief was that his report had been credible enough to warrant investigation by his Information Master, Eaol. What was surprising was that the old man had brought his grandchild along. The thought brought a frown to Harn’s face, and he pressed his lips together into a thin line. An Orc patrol in this area was unusual, but shouldn’t be so incredible sounding that the old man would be so careless.

Not my problem, Harn reminded himself, I’m just going to wait for Kalin and his friend, and then we’ll pick off this little patrol with ease.

Returning from his sour thoughts to his sour beer, Harn promised himself he wouldn’t be so skimpy with his money next time he bought a drink—this stuff was awful.

~*~

Pushing through the tight-packed streets, a tall man traveled with an even taller woman, whose stature and wide shoulders brought more than a few surprised looks. The man was cloaked, and might have been mistaken for another woman, except that no one bothered to take a closer look at him, since the strange and large woman was more interesting.

“Harn said he’d be at the Brown Ale Inn,” the man murmured, just loud enough to be heard by his companion, “We should be there quite soon.”

~*~
OOC: Forgive my writing, it's late and I have to run off to bed now.

Earinil the woman is your character, unless you'd like another entrance, in which case I can edit it.

Everyone else, if you're not sure where to start, you can write yourself as walking into or already being in the Inn. I'll write a situation for us to all band together later if you're not sure how to get your character involved with mine just yet.