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.

[Haradrim]

Drut was worried. He had seen signs out around Bree. An occasional orc print, old fires, some discarded food. "It wasn't right. Why were the orcs in Bree? Something must be wrong." he thought. "Well," he thought, "If anyone knows whats going on I'll find him in the Pony." As he walked towards the inn he noticed someone who was definately out of place. "Why was there an elf here." Something was definately up. He followed the elf and wasn't surprised where he was going. He watched him cross through the tavern to a lone man in the back. Right as the elf sat down. He walked over leaned on the table and said, "What's going on?"

[Earniel]

With one glance Beryn checked out the room the landlord had assigned to her. Kalin's room was just down the corridor. She put down her pack and removed her cloak. Then she returned to the Inn's tavern, just in time to see a man walk over to Kalin and his friend Harn and demand to know what 'was going on'.

Beryn raised an eyebrow. Kalin had only mentioned his friend Harn, then who could this be? She went to their table and loomed over the stranger. Given her size, there was little else she could do. The man, who saw her shadow, turned around quickly.

"Going straight to the issue that's on your mind, I like that in a man, my friend," Beryn told him with a friendly smile.

"But, she continued, "since we've are newcomers here I would prefer a bit more introduction before coming to what's going on."

She patted with one of her large hands on Drut's shoulder in a friendly, though slightly heavy gesture. "And as that might take a while, you can go and buy me a jug of mead as introduction."

She abruptly turned to Harn. "I know this place is called the Brown Ale Inn but they do have mead here, don't they? He said they would." she said as she pointed to Kalin who was trying to hide a grin.

[Haradrim]

"Who are these guys?" thought Drut. Well one thing was for sure they all knew each other. But why were they here? He had seen one of them before. He thought his name was Harn. Rumour had it that he was a ranger from the north. "Rangers, Elves, Orcs? What is going on?" he thought. "One beer and one mead please. Thanks" Drut picked up the two mugs and walked back towards the table. On the way back he noticed two men on either side of the bar. One was watching him the other was watching the group. He walked over as if he didn't know what was going on. He sat down next to his party, and with a wide grin, "I think we should go somewhere where we can talk in private.

[Aewionen]

In a far corner sat a young looking man, Haleth by name, drinking his ale while surveying the bustleing crowd. The air was a tad musty from the smoke of the pipes, not that that was unusual of course. With an impatient sigh, he leaned back in his chair, the old wood creaking as he did so. His eyes again searched through the crowd, as though looking for someone. Well, actually he was. But that was to remain hidden until they themselves arrived. Haleth began to wonder if they would show up at all for he didn't recieve a letter saying they would. All he could do was wait. And of course drink the lovely ale that was provided.

"Another round, 'aleth?" asked the voice of the bartender, jerking Haleth back into reality.

"If I must." he replied, handing him the empty mug with a sigh. "Make it the last though, don't want my self drunk."

"Again?" the old man chuckled as he walked away, shaking his head.

[Earniel]

Beryn's eye glistened when she saw the jug of mead. With a nod of thanks to Drut she took it and drank with the air of one who had seen her way through many, many jugs of mead before. She licked her lips.

"Not bad," she murmered, "the honey could have been a bit sweeter but for an ale Inn, it is passable enough."

She raised her jug to Drut. "I thank you, generous stranger. As long as this jug is full, you have found yourself a friend in Beryn."

"As for your suggestion, my father has warned me in my youth a great deal of men asking a woman to go somewhere to 'talk in private' without even saying their name beforehand." she continued.

She watched with some satisfaction as a faint blush crept up Drut's cheeks at her words. Beryn hid her grin behind her mug a few seconds until she could keep her face straight.

"In any case," she added with a nod to Harn, "that's for him to decide".