Long Lost Leaves - Part III

[Earniel]

This is a continuation from the RPG Long Lost Leaves. Previous parts are found here and here. The discussion thread is here.

[Varnafindë]

Tabril thinks I've accomplished much, and that I'm more qualified than most to be on this quest? Barufiniel thought. That's possibly the closest I've got to getting praise from her. Although it doesn't come without some reservations, perhaps ...

"You wonder why I went on a strenuous journey in the snow all those years ago to help a people that was not my own," she said, slowly. "And you cannot understand why I would be on this quest, helping Radagast and the Ents to find the Entwives. I should ponder my reasons, maybe. Perhaps some of the reason is simply that I like helping people?
Speaking of which," she smiled, "I promised Branwyn that I would help him perform tomorrow. He's going to recite a long works of poetry, and I'm going to accompany him on my lyre. Instead I won't do as much singing as usual. So in order to be ready and well rested for tomorrow, I think I should take my leave now."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl nodded. 'It is well that you should rest,' she said. 'You may go.' She was not entirely sure that Barufiniel had been asking her permission. The courtesies of other elves were unfamiliar to her. It did no harm to give it, she reasoned, just in case it was what Barufiniel expected of her.

After Barufiniel had left her, Tabrîl reflected on what she had said. There was much that she did not say, she thought. Or would not. One did not undertake dangerous quests simply to help people, not if those people were absolute strangers. No, there had to be more to it than that, although if Barufiniel did not wish to tell her, Tabrîl would not raise the topic again. It seemed a private matter, and privacy had to be respected.

It was late, and Tabrîl needed to rest for a while herself, if she was able to. Her injured arm still ached, and she knew she could only rest for a few hours at a time before she would have to patrol the outskirts of the camp. She dared not leave it longer. Safety had to come before Tabrîl's own desire for a night of unbroken sleep, and she did not trust these others. Her own efforts were still inadequate, she knew, but she did as much as she was able to.

[Earniel]

Another day, another performance. Once more the Ultai gathered on the Celebration field, curious as to what they'd be shown today. They recognised the female bard that had sung before, she was sitting down with her lyre in her hands. But today she was joined by a young man who stood a little before her.

Branwyn waited until a hush of anticipation had fallen before adressing the audience. "Tonight", he told them with a steady voice," I will tell you of the most beautiful tales of the Old Western World. A story that has survived through centuries, and that can still make people laugh and cry, and inspire them to hope as well as to dream. A tale of unparallelled beauty that speaks of battle, courage, betrayal, devotion, and above all of: love. Tonight, you will hear the Lay of Leithan."

He bowed at the short, encouraging applause and shouts from the audience that his introduction induced. It was obvious from his vibrant voice and shining eyes that Branwyn was enjoying himself and could not resist being drawn into the story himself.

"Let us now set the stage before us," he went on, brimming with infectuous enthusiams. "We are now in ancient lands, far in the West That Was. The sun itself was younger and the lands lay under the shadow of an unending war. We turn our attention to one nation where peace yet ruled for its borders were well-guarded. This land was called Beleriand. A king there was in days of old..."

And so Branwyn's performance began, cleverly weaving narrative with ancient poetry and conjuring up enthralling scenes from long ago.

[Amael]

A'mael got nearer to Ingwionis very temporarily, just to joke on the matter of the west. She told him with a whisper, "yes, then there was the West that continued to fall into the sea by each passing day, at least the world seems smaller than it did 700 years ago, although we are out here in the East now!" Ingwionis "sshh"'d her as A'mael had the habit of never having the same tone of voice, from word to word, and her voice was carrying to just more than Ingwionis, but not too far. A'mael silenced herself and and continued to listen to the performance.

[Varnafindë]

Any worries that Barufiniel had had that a mortal might not be able to do the Lay of Leithan full justice, were soon dispelled. Here was a man who knew his subject matter and loved sharing it with others. His enthusiasm quickly spread to his audience, who were listening, spell-bound.

When there was time for the first theme of the suite, Barufiniel joined him on her lyre. The music didn't draw attention away from the words, it complemented them. Baru sent a silent thought of appreciation to whomever had composed the music. It fit the text perfectly.

[Earniel]

Branwyn and Barufiniel took the Ultai along on an epic journey as Beren and Lúthien met, fell in love and met with opposition from all sides. And when they finally reached Morgoth's lair, their audience had not tired yet by a long shot.

"Down to a menace dark enshrined, down to the mountain's roots profound, devoured, tormented, bored and ground by seething vermin spawned of stone, down to the depths they went alone." Branwyn quoted gravely.

Here he waited for a while, behind him Barufiniel let the music fade away quietly as well. Barely thirty silent seconds went by before someone in the audience could not contain himself and shouted: "Well, what happens next?!"

"Many things happen next," Branwyn answered. "However the hour is late and the sky as dark as Morgoth's throne chamber. Tonight you will hear no more of Beren and Lúthien. But tomorrow... tomorrow you will know the tale in full!"

And at this Branwyn bowed to the assembled audience and returned to the camp with Barufiniel.

"I must thank you, Barufiniel" he told her, "for your unmissable assistance. I think I have but seldom seen an audience so attentive."

[Varnafindë]

"No wonder they were attentive," Barufiniel answered, her eyes still wide with excitement. "You gave a marvellous performance. Even I noticed some new aspects of the story today. It was a privilege to work with you - I'm looking forward to tomorrow already."

[Acalewia]

Aelfwine listened in awe at the telling. She had never heard the lay told before. She was disappointed that they had to stop for the night. She could hardly wait until the next day to hear the rest of the story.

[Aikanáro]

They returned later than usual from the gathering of the Ultai, Tabrîl noted as the others finally drifted back to their camp. It was clear that the act Barufiniel and Branwyn had planned had been a success. Tabrîl had heard the applause even at this distance, and the adventurers themselves seemed to be in high spirits.

She had not attended. The tale likely contained a multitude of Mysteries and strange Noldorin lore, and even were that not so, someone had to remain behind and take care of things, or so she thought to herself. In truth, after her foraging expedition that morning, and between patrols, she had very little to do. If travelling was dull, remaining in one place could be even more so.

Tabrîl did not know if boredom was a fair justification for being concerned with the welfare of those who had taken her from her people. If it was not, there was always the notion that her vigilance would ensure her own safety as well as theirs. She did not want to die because of the folly of some mortal, or Noldo, or - whatever the rest of these people called themselves.

That day, however, she had begun something new. After discussing music with Barufiniel, it had occurred to her that even if a full-sized kithir would be an impractical thing to carry, there were other instruments she knew how to make. If she was to teach Abasi the songs of her people, it could not hurt to have a little accompaniment. Tabrîl had decided to make a small dayiret, and it was this she was working on that night, meticulously shaping the wooden frame.

She did not approach any of them, it was obvious to her that their day had gone well, and so there was no need to ask it. She was pleased, for Barufiniel's sake if nothing else, she knew how seriously the Noldorin elf seemed to take her role as entertainer.

[feawen]

Nami had listened to the tale from a distance and left as the applease ended. As the others returned to the camp Nami followed on from behind, slowly bringing up the rear. Humming one of the themes from the tale as she found a spot by the fire and listened to the excited talk of the others.
Looking around the group she watched in silence. She noted Tabil at work, she wondered what it was she was making but know better than at to ask. She signed a little to her self and watched at flames dance in front of her.

[Earniel]

Branwyn blushed, knowing Barufiniel had given him high praise. "The feeling is mutual," he said, "I too am privileged to be able to work with you."

The scholar sat down near the invitingly burning fire his companions had lit in their camp. He was tired, but the success of their performance made filled him with adrenaline and satisfaction that it would be impossible for him to sleep immediately. He decided to sit for a little longer. The fire was pleasant.

He turned when he heard Nami sigh. "Is everything alright, Nami?" He asked.

[feawen]

Nami looked up sharply as the mention of her name brought her out of her thoughts. "Oh...yes." she said after a pause smiling at Branwyn, changing the subject from herself. "The story was beautiful told and the music was so magical along side it, i have never heard a tale told like that. I know of the story, but it is not one told among the people of the Green Wood generally. You and Barufiniel have a lot talent!"

[Amael]

A'mael had observed the stars the entire night, while her husband and nearly everyone else had slept soundly. But she didn't feel tired, no. She had not used her bow nor her sword in a long time, and figured that she should go about cleaning her unused weapons. At times they had been dragged through the mud across shallow streams when the group was in a hurry to keep up with each other. A'mael had spent many nights cleaning her sandals and other shoes off after excursions through the mud. So now it was time to make her weapons at least presentable during her daily training.

She looked through her backpack and found a rolled parchment, but it was no normal material. It felt strong, yet flexible in the same! As always, she found her distraction. She opened the rolled parchment and as she removed the seal, the seal itself disappeared, along with the band holding it. "Strange", she thought. She had seen these type of seemingly-insignificant artifacts before: rope that unwound itself after it was safe to be unwound, seals that disappear from envelops, and so on. But these artifacts weren't often seen beyond 'certain' borders. "Had Radagast or Ingwionis or perhaps someone else given her some document that was 'for my eyes only'", she thought.

Finally, she unrolled the scroll, finding a partial map, though larger than the one Ingwionis had uncovered much earlier in the journey. She had not been in the east as much as her husband was. In fact, this was much further into the east than she had ever been. Was the Sea of Rhun behind or beyond? She didn't know. She followed the group and didn't ask insignificant questions. Usually, as a soldier, her only two questions would be, "what are we dealing with" and "how do we kill it?" She learned not to say much, though when need arose she never held back on questioning what seemed to be fact to everyone else.

"Now should I show this to him", A'mael wondered silently to herself. "She I show this to my husband if perhaps it was only meant for me? I know this map might come in handy for some, but would be self-explanatory to others, mainly the Kindi and the wizard and Ingwionis and such."

A'mael was startled by a waking voice. "The East is an ever-changing lifeform, my love. There is no reason to keep such a thing from my eyes." Ingwionis had awaken, yet he had likely been awake for a while, probably since before A'mael had begun looking through her gear. "I don't know, my love Ingwionis, I don't know if this would be of any use, but if it is, but it's only meant for me, I can't show you it." A'mael hesitated in giving her husband the scroll.

"I know the scroll because it was I who gave it to you", he said to her.

"Then why the deception, you could have just come out and told me, saving the unnecessary conversation over what I should do with it. And what could I do with the map?" A'mael replied with question.

"You've seen the map before any of the others, even myself. Maps such as these I long to see, for they reveal a ... part of my past."

"And what part would that be, Ingwionis? Your time in the east, the companions, one who was the white and two who were the blue?" A'mael talked in riddles often.

"As I said, these lands are ever-changing. As we move along, our path behind us may have changed slightly. Though I cannot be sure of that."

"That's ludicrous, my husband! The lore of these lands long passed away. They are naught but a shadow of their former selves."

"Our presence here, A'mael, may have rebuked some of that ancient lore."

"It may have, Ingwionis. But I doubt that. Our path has been quite straight for a way. And this new map ... it could not lead us to the Entwives any more than the original maps could. The real question that must be asked is ... if the Entwives could feel the magic of the world as likely they could, could they have not felt the departure of Sauron and seen it fitting to return to the lands they once had to leave? Could they not be on their way as we speak, and we end up missing them by a mere league?" A'mael was full of questions at this time.

"This map, A'mael, is a backup plan, perhaps a way to find the Entwives even if they should be on the move. And we would be prepared for what's ahead."

"Then one last question, the obvious. Where did you get this map?"

"I do not know. In the middle of the night, in a deep sleep, I awoke with a sweat. I felt that someone was in the group that may have been an intruder, so I searched around to see if it was bandits or not. I noticed you had been looking at the stars on top of the pile of boulders over there. Then I went back to my supplies, found nothing stolen, yet something had been added."

"Then who would be all the way out here besides the men of the east?"

"I have my suspicions, but only one clan of them exists in this near section of the east."

"I see ... I ... believe I know what you may be on to. But another explorer quite close to us, just out here to give you a message? Doesn't it seem odd?" A'mael had more questions than ever. "And so how do we use this new map? Is it a current map?"

"The explorer must be one of our kin, another clan altogether, yet close enough. And the map ... its condition is very new. It couldn't be any older than one, maybe two years." Ingwionis continued talking on locations on the map, and gave the group's position relative to the map. The group's position was quite far from this section of the map.

"The east is only so big, Ingwionis."

"Yes, and few travel there. Too few indeed ever travel there to say just how big it is out here. Mostly desolation, scattered colonies, yet we may be passing through a bit more civilization eventually, or some of us may become unwelcome guests there ... "

"Well, we shall follow the leader. Not our instincts, though they could serve to bring us to where we want to go, they may also serve to get us lost or ... or worse."

"Don't worry, A'mael. You must relax for eventually you will not be in any condition to be active within the group. I will scout around the group once in a while, never straying too far."

"So the further east we go, the clearer the path may be?"

"Correct, A'mael. Now get some rest, you've had none."

"I will do that this next night. Examine that map, but don't let it lead you to doing something foolish again. Remember the under croft of Dol-Guldur? You needn't be running off mad again, no matter the reward."

A'mael went back to looking through her equipment, and grabbed her sword, and began to clean it as Ingwionis went over to a small group of people and began talking.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel went straight to her tent, thinking that she should have an early night and get extra rest for tomorrow's performance.

But she couldn't relax and rest. She was far too excited about today's success. The response from the audience had been everything they could hope for. And what a clever way to make a break - have them ask for more, and then tell them that they would have to come back later! Baru chuckled to herself.

Yes, what she had told Branwyn, was true. There were sections of this story that he had made her more aware of today. She had noticed new details about Finrod's sacrifice - perhaps also because she had recently told Tabril and Abasi about it? And she had told Tabril about her grandmother, and Tabril had said that a mother's sacrifice ought not to be forgotten - it ought to be recorded in song.

Could she write such a song?

The rhythm of the Lay was turning around in Barufiniel's head, making it easy for her to formulate sentences in the same pattern. She got out her writing materials, and wrote down a couple of tentative lines. Rhyme was more difficult than rhythm, though. She was used to writing funny songs, and then an occasional silly or contrived rhyme didn't matter - but now she was trying to make real poetry, and she needed to be serious.

The style of the Lay was also turning around in her head, and it helped her to think in the same style. The inspiration - not only of the poem as such, but even more of their successful performance of it tonight - was an invaluable help. Slowly she got deeper into her subject matter, and one line began to follow another.

She told about Gondolin, and how Idril, the Princess, had been fearful for its safety, and had made a secret tunnel for people to escape by. She told about the summer festival where everyone was waiting for the sunrise, only to find the enemy attacking the city instead. She told about her grandparents, Erufailon and Arindis, both friends and kinsmen of Idril. Erufailon was in King Turgon's Guard and had fallen defending his king, while Arindis had tried to escape with their ten year old boy, little Rameldir.

They were nearly at the escape tunnel when they were overtaken by an Orc. Arindis urged Rameldir to run to the tunnel, where Tuor, Idril's husband, would pick him up. Meanwhile she turned to face the Orc and attack him. Arindis only had a dagger, but she delayed the Orc enough to buy her son those few seconds he needed to reach Tuor.

While Rameldir was being carried to safety, he looked back and saw the Orc cutting his mother down. He never forgot the sight.

Barufiniel put her pen away, exhausted, but satisfied. The last few verses had almost written themselves. She couldn't judge there and then whether this was good enough, but it was certainly the best song she had ever made. She decided that she would tell Tabril about it tomorrow. Then she went to bed, and fell asleep immediately.

[Coffeehouse]

For many days the wind carried strongly southeast, and its full force blew the sails of the dhow hurriedly ahead, until at last, after near three weeks of sailing, Aladji and Quickleaf arrived at their destination, Dorwinion. The city of the East, place of rumours and long-forgotten tales from as far back as the times when the elves still trekked across Middle Earth. For Quickleaf it seemed strange then but natural still, as he looked out to the sprawling city in front of him (for Dorwinion proper spread far out on both sides of the river) to feel something of a home-coming.

The two travelers arrived at dusk, in time to see the sun go down behind the city. Dorwinion lay bathing in an orange glow on the mouth of the Celduin where the river passed into the Sea of Rhûn. On both banks many white stone houses and beautiful gardens populated it. In them were orchards of peaches, apples, oranges, plums and grapes. These gardens spread out across both sides of the river, inbetween houses and along the many limestone-paved streets that crisscrossed the city. There were no bridges across the river for it was very wide, but many places Quickleaf saw smaller ferries that could transport people across. Dotted along the banks were many smaller peers and docks where dhows and other ships were lined up in large numbers, but greatest of the docks was beyond the river, where the market lay, in the part of the city that touched upon the Sea of Rhûn. Aladji and Quickleaf headed that way.

As the dhow rounded a curve in the river Quickleaf saw ahead into the Sea of Rhûn, or the Sea of the East, and he understood why it was called so. Enormous, it stretched out into the distance indefinitely and he could not see its end. Yet somewhere on the other side lay the Far East, but it was far, far away. The colour of the sea (for it was much larger than a lake, yet entirely enclosed) was neither blue, nor green nor brown but something in-between. As the last sprinkles of the sun’s rays retired behind the city’s houses its colour changed from gold to a light chestnut streak mixed with a lowly glowing dark silver. The first that Quickleaf noticed were the lights, because they were everywhere. From the many white towers surrounding the city on both sides of the river, inside and on the roof terraces of houses and in oil lamps hanging on suspended ropes along the river, lights shone brightly. All along the peer were the silhouettes of people making their way along the river, there seemed to be many, and some were carrying supplies, others going onto ships and some idly looking towards the Sea which was in a great traffic even at this late hour. Aladji's dhow now turned down towards the southern bank, where city’s main dock lay.

At the site of their designated dock Aladji laughed merrily,
- “Golgonum, hooma-thum! Home at last! Welcome to Dorwinion, Kviggliff! City of the East! City of Light and Colour! Ahead you see the marketplace by the peer in front of us. We will make anchor there and sleep over the night in the dhow so that we may be ready for tomorrow morning’s market! For then it is Friday, and after prayers everyone descends here to buy the wonders of the East and the riches of the West. Friday is the best day to sell, and we have come just in time for it! Much to sell, much to buy, and then you can see the city Kviggliff!”
- "Seems like a plan Chief!", Quickleaf exclaimed, sitting in front of the dhow, his slim elven legs hanging over the bow. In front of him lay many dhows and other ships, almost a hundred, and there sat traders and travelers, the sails of their ships furled up and filled with supplies of all sorts. Their dhow moved slowly inwards and they found room between two other ships. On their left bobbed a small and very old vessel, hardly 15 ft long. The other was much greater, with two masts and plenty of cargo. On it were many large boxes and jars, and the strong scent of honey and wax filled the air.

Quickleaf jumped lightly up onto the peer while Aladji threw him a rope and shouted instructions. Although he had been on a dhow for nearly three weeks Quickleaf was something of an illiterate when it came to handling anything that floated on water. The only really practical thing he seemed to be capable of was tying ropes, and at that he was becoming quite good. Quickleaf had learned every knot that Aladji knew, and even a few that he didn’t know.

After the dhow had been well and properly bound and fastened to the city of Dorwinion the two travelers put away anything that could be taken away easily by any thieving crook, and made their way into a large white house by the dock. On a sign painted in bright red colors read: Droi Sohaliya, “The Three Sails”.
- “Kviggliff! You are about to drink the best wine in all of Middle-Earth!” Aladji merrily pronounced, eager to show the elf what the city had to offer.
- “Excellent! Though the last time I was told so I ended up losing all my possessions and all my friends the following day!” Quickleaf laughed, yet it was all true.

[Earniel]

The final day of the Celebration Festival finally arrived. Today the Ents would take care of most of the entertainment, especially in regard to the children. With the help of Aewen and Magor, several children were placed on Earthshaker's shoulder. Blossomshade carried a few in her arms. With great Ent-strides, they made tours around the camp, while many of the Ultai (including several rather anxious parents) looked on.

The children screamed with delight, it was easy to find the Ents this day, one merely had to follow the noise. The children had been waiting a whole week for this -as the Ents had kept away from the Entertainment area since the start from the festival- and they loved every second of it. Other children started to line up for a tour as well, luckily for them, the Ents did not tire easily.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis joined Radagast watching the Ents give the Ultai children rides around the camp. In the days since she had first thought she had noticed the Forest's binding weakening at particular moments, Haldis had withdrawn from the group (telling the wizard, when he had asked, that she was feeling a little unwell, and wanted to rest) in order to be aware and undistracted should it happen again.

And it had. Haldis was quite certain now, the binding weakened a little whenever Tabrîl was talking with the not-kindi members of the company. Time to tell Radagast. She hadn't want to say anything two days ago, when they had last talked, for she hadn't known enough, but now...

"Radagast, do you think trees prefer the people living around them to be on friendly terms? Enough to take steps to ensure that it was so?"

[Earniel]

"I think most living creatures like their neighbours to be friendly," Radagast said. "And not to come and visit bearing sharp axes."

He looked at Haldis. "But what trees in specific are you thinking of?" He asked. "The Ents and their trees in Fangorn, or Greenwood the Great?"

[Willow Oran]

"The Greenwood," Haldis said. "I have not actually been unwell, Radagast, just concentrating. Is it at all usual for a Forest to concern itself with how the inhabitants treat each other?"