Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[The Witch-King of Angmar]

This is a new RPG featuring an obscure future-king (Valandil, who has ever heard of him?) at the University of Southern Arnor. Oh, and a handful of future-nazgul too. What is Middle-earth coming to these days?

The discussion-thread of this game can be found here. The second discussion thread can be found here.
A thread with all the information necessary for playing can be found here.

[Valandil]

Descriptive Post:

Well - actually, Valandil already IS King and the Nazgul already ARE Nazgul.

This story begins in early September of year 49 of the Third Age. Wasn't all THAT long ago that the Last Alliance of Men and Elves gathered to defeat Sauron and his forces, when Elendil and Gil-galad fell in mortal combat with Sauron himself, and when Isildur cut the One Ring from the finger of their dread foe.

Nowadays, things are much more peaceful. Aging veterans tell stories about the war in inns up and down the lands - but war and strife are already distant things to most people who didn't see them - especially those who were too young to understand - or not even born - at the time.

It looks like the Third Age will be a glorious one for Men. Exiles from among the Faithful of the Numenoreans hold sway in two great kingdoms; Arnor in the north (where the High King over both kingdoms rules) and Gondor in the south. Although somewhat ravaged by war, these two allies (ruled by first cousins, no less) have no major enemies and no rivals. They both seem poised for greatness.

The Elves are still mighty, but definitely a fading force. They seclude themselves in their realms and sing about times long past. Their greatest stronghold is in Lindon, where Cirdan has taken over leadership of Gil-galad's kingdom. Elrond has his followers in Imladris, where he plans ambitious building projects - like adding at least one major addition to the place every 144 years. There are also Elves in places like Lorien, Greenwood and Edhellond, and a few other Elves wander about, but rather discretely. They mostly don't seem inclined to take part in whatever events may come.

Of the Dwarves, the Longbeards are thriving the most - expanding their realm in Moria - but they keep mostly confined to their underground homes, and don't grow in number as swiftly as Men do.

Nobody has heard of Istari or Hobbits - for it's about 1000 years before any of them will come into history.

Of Sauron's minions, the Orcs suffered some major setbacks and keep themselves pretty well hidden in out-of the way places. Dragons and trolls and fierce things like that have faded into vast wilderness areas and are rarely, if ever heard about - already seeming no more than 'fairy tales'.

Sauron and his greatest servants are gone - or thought to be. But in fact, the Nazgul have begun to stir. They are much weakened, and have their own liabilities, but still... they ARE Nazgul. And now they are free from Sauron, and the control he had over them by the One. But say... where IS the One now? Did anyone see Isildur take it? And Men talk as though he is dead - but has anyone seen a body? Is it all a ruse? And now Men are ruled by Isildur's young son - these great Men ruled by one who was too young to fight in the War - how DOES he command their respect?

Yes - the Nazgul are somewhat at peace, like everybody else - but their peace is troubled by thoughts of the One. What if someone else comes forward wielding it, to make them slaves once more? What if... unthinkably... Sauron was not ultimately destroyed in that mortal combat? What if... each one must think... what if I could be the one to find it, and take it as my own? And... they get these visions sometimes, and wonder if the One calls out to them... something that seems like a 'river'...

So - now we have Valandil taking courses at the University of Southern Arnor in Tharbad. The gossip-mongers of both kingdoms had a hay-day with this one, since the place has a 'party-school' reputation (perhaps because it IS a coeducational institution, quite rare for its day - but there's another in Pelargir and a couple others in less hospitable climes), but the official palace response was that it was the royal family's opinion that 'one can find whatever one is looking for, wherever one goes' - and Valandil always has SEEMED to be a serious student. But frankly, he has a lot of other things on his mind, as you'll see.

Valandil will be 60 later this year, which seems rather old to us people today, and those who were not of Numenorean stock then, for the histories tell us he would live to be 260! He hasn't even had to think about 'settling down' yet - although that may come in a few decades. But he has come to Tharbad, here on the southern edge of Arnor; to relax, to distract himself, to pursue a mystery. He must take care lest another mystery overtake him!

Players may be nazgul or their associates, Men or Elves, with maybe a Dwarf.

[Valandil]

Starting the Game:

Valandil sat at his favorite table at his favorite outdoor pub in Tharbad. It was beside the Greyflood River, which flowed steadily behind him - and very near the bridge, which was just downstream. It was also close to the riverfront house he had moved into, along with his entourage (some of whom were with him now - his Chamberlain, his Tutor - and his friends Ray and Marty). He was reading the latest issue of "Palantir Gazette" (a newletter, carefully copied by a scribe) - dated earlier this year - 49 Third Age. It was late on a Friday afternoon and the sun would soon be setting, but he was trying to find some way to take his mind off his classes... and girls. Or to think about the girls... he wasn't really sure.

Officially, he was in Tharbad to study - USAT (University of Southern Arnor at Tharbad). He had a rather heavy load: Ship-building I, Bridge-building II, Commerce, Embalming III and Wine-tasting. It was just early September, but he was already behind, and there was probably no way his 'keepers' would let him go to the big game tomorrow, much less play in it. Royals were expected to do the best in everything - but truthfully, even being in Tharbad, like reading the paper - was just meant to be a distraction.

Oh - he had really embarrassed himself that spring. His mother always wanted to go visit "Uncle" Elrond, so they had gone there once more. Only this time, in addition to having to endure his rather obviously aged mother making eyes at the Half-Elven, he had espied Celebrian... WOW! Of course he was quite taken (even her mother was HOT!), but she was quite cold toward him. He thought she'd've been more appreciative - she and her folks were like "Homeless Elves" (though not Houseless) - and they could have all come back to Evendim with him (where they said they had once dwelt - why couldn't they just say 'lived'?).

Well - you may know how this one came out. Turns out they were all making an 'arrangement' about Elrond and Celebrian - so Valandil and his mother, after a bit of an embarrassing scene, had slipped away and headed back for home. But he had been listless the rest of spring. Finally - in summer he decided to come to Tharbad and enroll for graduate-level classes in the Fall. But he chose Tharbad because of the stories about Nin-in-Eilph - and the mysterious Elf Maiden who was said to live there. His mother had insisted on him bringing enough 'advisors' to keep him under a pretty tight watch, but he had still managed to slip out a few nights before classes began, to go to the place of swans. He even thought he had seen her once... but he wasn't sure - had his eyes only been fooling him?

And then the rest of the students had begun to arrive. The campus was abuzz with the word that the High King was studying there, and most of his classmates were tripping over themselves to try and make his acquaintance. And the girls... eye-yie-YIE!

Anyway - if this would be strictly study, it would be a long 2 months before the 4-month Yule Break (followed by a month of Spring Semester, a month of Spring Break and then the second month of Spring classes). The moon would be a little past full tonight. It would be dark at first, but later there would be light to see by. He wondered if he could slip out again, before the moon rose - and then make his way back across the river.

A butterfly came fluttering about, breaking his thoughts. First he just watched it, then tried to catch it, but failed. This seemed to anger the thing so it danced madly around his face. He swatted at it, missing again (to the amusement of his companions) and then watched it fly away, toward the river. "Sigh," he thought. "Well - summer is ending and your days won't be much longer anyway, my pretty friend."

The serving girl came out with hot fresh bread and cheese and apple cider. The place began to fill up and the other patrons - a mix of students and townies - kept making furtive (what IS 'furtive' anyway?) glances his way. Perhaps it was time to leave.

[CrazySquirrel]

"And now, my boy, bring me a big piece of strawberries-and-cream cake and a HUGE glass of Dorwinion '13!"

The loud woman's voice on his right interrupted Val's musings. His eyes caught a blur of red and green, and his nose caught a whiff of exotic flagrance, as the woman passed his table. Turning his head, he beheld the most amazing creature he has ever seen in his life. The first thing he noticed (and in fact the first thing any male seeing Lily registered) was that she was really BUXOM. She also had generous hips and a ridiculously tiny waist. The emerald green dress she wore had a low-cut neckline (far too low for a mid-day visit to a public place, thought Val automatically) and an intricate golden belt with a tiny dagger attached to it. The woman drifted among the tables, swaying her hips and letting her mane of rich red-gold hair sway in tune. She finally chose a table not far from Val and sat down, stretching her delicious long legs before her. Her huge green eyes, bold and impudent, turned to Val and slowly traveled all along Val's body from his head to the tips of his cartefully polished stylish boots. Val felt himself to be assessed and apprized and somehow found wanting. Val blushed, but still watched transfixed. The woman stretched lazily, like a big predatory cat, and licked her lips with the tip of her rosy tongue. She was so beautiful, so unusual! Val was used to willowy beauty of Elven ladies and pure-blood Numenorean maids. The woman sitting before him now was exotic and thrilling and darkly attractive in a way unknown to the young King.

[Earniel]

Deep within the marches of Nîn-In-Eilph, amid the pools where swans drift majestically, stands a little village of pile-dwellings. Here the Reed-Elves dwell, there aren't many of them and they never did anything noteworthy; they certainly took great pains to keep to themselves. So history kindly forgot all about them. It happens, you know.

The Reed-Elves are a rag-tag sort of Elves, having decendants among them of almost every Elven-race and culture that somehow all ended up, like driftwood, in Nîn-In-Eilph. Their lady is, surprisingly, a Sea-Elf, named Eärniel. She wouldn't have been here if not for some unfortunate curse of seasickness, but that's another story entirely and not one she likes to hear being told. Right now she is going over some grievances of her people relating to the University in Tharbad and trying to write a complaint-letter to the University Council.

Normally the university never gave the Reed-Elves any trouble but of late there was a student wandering about their swamps. Nardol and Caladan had been complaining in particular, since the student nearly had caught them swimming. They said they had to hold their breath for quite some time before he went away and they were able to get to their clothes. Clothes? Eärniel raised an eyebrow.

She brushed with the end of her feather-pen against her lips as she was trying to think of a good start for the complaint-letter. Instead she wrote half-absentmindedly 'TO DO: find out where the men go skinny dipping!'

But the snag, she considered, was that this was not just any student, it was said to be King Valandil no less. So shooting a warning arrow in his butt and kindly inform him the next arrow would be a tad higher if he ever showed his face in Nîn-In-Eilph again, was a big nono. The next thing they might see were the entire armies of Arnor laying siege to her marches. No, that was completely out of the question. Pity, really, a strategically placed arrow had proven a very effective means to keep the peace in her marches in earlier times.

Eärniel glanced again at her letter, now adorned with the mention of skinny dipping, and decided this was perhaps not the right way to solve the problem. No, she would have to go there herself and sort things out once and for all. And she might be able to learn something useful while she was at it. She leafed through the University brochure. 'Advanced Ecology of Swamps and Marches' sounded promissing, so did 'Swan speach I'. And she might be able to take up basket-weaving for extra credit...

Her mind made up, she went to pack her things and make sure the Reed-Elves behaved in her absence. Within a day she would be in Tharbad and she'd better go prepared.

[Valandil]

The sound of the horse's hooves echoed in the otherwise quiet street. Valandil, covered with a deep blue cloak and riding a black horse, had made his escape. A small coin to the porter with a motion to keep quiet about the episode was all it took to get out the front gate, and now he was out into the city - and the moon had not yet risen. And he was alone... no chancellor, no tutor, no Marty or Ray.

He recalled the stunning redhead from that afternoon. Once she showed up at The Red Herring his 'friends' had just about physically removed him, but he had been able to pause for just a moment and give her a nod of acknowledgement. Why were they always so worried about keeping him out of trouble? He had never really gotten in trouble anyway... not REALLY!

He came to the first crossroads and paused. A right turn would take him toward campus proper - and maybe a frat party. But he really had no desire for that. Still... SHE might be there. But, he sighed - his greater curiosity bore him several more streets south, and the left - toward the bridge.

The bridge of Tharbad was long and low. Above it the river rushed more swiftly, broken here and there by rocks, although it was navigable by hardy boatmen who brought good on up the river. Just below the bridge was a spillway of a ranga or two (about 1 to 2 meters), and beyond that, the Greyflood was a whole different river. It was wider and deeper and slower - so that ships could travel up it from the sea. There were all the piers and wharves - the waterfront which brought shipping commerce to Arnor. The city there was low, but much larger, and behind the levees, canals and streets both criss-crossed the more densely populated quarters of the city, a maze to any newly-arrived, as he was.

The guards of Arnor who manned the west gate of the bridge recognized him and let him pass without a word. He made his way slowly across, the horses clip-clopping against the sound of water pouring over the spillway almost beneath him. At the west gate, the guards were not so quiet about it, but it didn't matter any longer. These guards were from Gondor, and they maintained an outpost here. Valandil had begun to think that presumptuous, as they held no real sway in the lands from here to the Isen, but his cousin Meneldil ever seemed an ambitious one. And the guards always seemed a bit sarcastic when they called him, "Oh great High King" - smirking and winking to themselves. He would have to speak to Meneldil about them.

On he went, north east now through the smaller section of East Tharbad, which already slept. The moon crested over the horizon as he reached the outskirts of town - just a short way to the lands of Nin-in-Eilph.

He rode slowly at last through the trees, brush and marshes of his destination, eyes searching about for any sign of what he sought. It was some time later, and deep into the woods there, that he thought he saw a figure in the distance - glimmering, silverlike, and seeming to dance through the distant trees. He dug his heels into his horse's flanks to find out what he saw.

Before his horse had made even a furlong in this manner, its foot struck a tree-root and down they fell - horse and man, separating and rolling on the ground. Valandil tried to get up, but his ankle seemed to be twisted. He was able to examine the horse, who was really none the worse for it, but then he held onto the reins and let the horse drag him over beside a tree, against which he leaned his back to rest, so that his ankle could mend.

"That was foolish!" he said to himself, staring absently at the deep dark pool of water beside him. "To go galloping through a dark marshy wood under the light of a fading moon." Then he wondered if he would have to spend the night here - and also if anyone might come along and find him...

But he was tired, so he yawned, stretched out his arms then closed his eyes and tried to catch a little sleep.

[Serenoli]

Sitting under a tree he was aware of the words that came floating down the wind:
"Go to the North Gate. There are stables on the left. Put your horse there. Then, go to the East Gate, there is an entrance to the Palace garden. Circle the Palace and wait there near the fountain. I shall call you later, when I am alone."

He got up to do as he was told. The other Nazgul would probably not be so obedient as he was... not now that the downfall of Sauron had set them, to an extent, free, to da as they pleased. For him, more than for any of the others, the downfall of Sauron had been but as a death-knoll, for with Sauron's fall, his own purpose in life had vanished.

Once, long ago, when he had been the fair and beloved prince in a loved kingdom... then his purpose had been the good of his country. No one had striven as much as him. In every battle, he was at the forefront, weilding what weapon he had... be it sword, spear or axe with equal deadly skill. In every period of peace he was the most diligent in the people's welfare. Add to that the fact, that he was tall, manly in manner and appearance, and very fair to look upon... and it is easy to understand why he was the darling of the nation. In fact, it was a grief to most that he was the younger son, and thus not in line for the throne… his elder brother, though a noble man, had none of his flair or popularity.

And then had come news of the treachery of Sauron to the Elves of Eregion, and they were allies who rushed to the help of these Elves, in the ensuing battle with the Enemy. That battle was lost… but the war with Sauron continued long afterwards. Things were looking bleak when on a chance meeting, a fortune-teller gave him a good-luck charm, a small ring, made of a black shiny metal, encrusted with deep blue and green jems whose names he knew not… and from then on, luck did indeed fall his way. He became a mighty warrior, legendary even, known and feared by all who encountered him.

But the ring worked on him all the same, and soon he had become as evil as he had formerly been good. Deluded in his mind, he convinced himself, that his father and brother were traitors, and that they coveted his ring. He murdered them both in their sleeps, and made himself king.

His reign was short and bloody. He became unrecognisable, and many who would formerly have given their lives for him, hated him from their blood now. But he was all-powerful, and maintained his rule with a cruel hand, and then one day, he was gone. He had left in the night, alone, taking only the barest minimum.

He had felt the call. He travelled all the way to Mordor, and in his mind, all pretence was gone. He saw clearly how Sauron had tricked him… but he resisted no more. From the day, he kneeled before Sauron, and pledged himself, his purpose in life became to serve Sauron. His very existence was built around his master.

And even now, when Sauron and his Ring, were both lost to him, he wished ardently for the old state of things to return. He was wasted as a free man. Practically the only thing he enjoyed was battling, so he often hired himself out as a mercenary, only to kill as many as he could on both sides. He wandered Middle Earth, looking for someone to battle with, and sometimes to visit old strongholds. He lived in the past, and wished for it back. That is why, when he felt the call, he knew not who made it, but it reminded him so irresistably of the last time he had felt such a calll… and he came at once to Tharbad. And so he still obeyed Ilmenzor to the letter, even though he was no longer under him, as he would have in the past. Of all the Nazgul, he would be most likely, if he found the One Ring, to think of giving it back to Sauron.

And so Tolvadok did as he was bid. Untying his horse, he mounted it, and made off, swift as the wind. Depositing his horse, in the stables, he went out the Gate, and then went left as the Chacellor had directed him. The streets were well-nigh deserted at that hour and he passed unnoticed. And soon, he was before the East Gate, and lo! The Palace loomed in front and this time he had no need to search for a Gate, it also loomed.

And he went, circled the building, as desired, and ended up where he was told to, right beside the fountain in the inner garden. That is, not exactly, right beside… like many wraiths, he feared water, and the sight of the water gently splashing was not very pleasant, so he stood some way from it and waited. Water and Elves all over! Really, the Chancellor had no idea how to make a homely Nazgul home!

[Udukhaturz]

“A trap, you say?� Udu’s eyes narrowed as he looked as Khamûl. The Easterling’s mind was impenetrable, well-shielded. “As for learning wisdom, I, too, have spent long years in the East and am well acquainted with treachery. I trust no one, not you, not even the lovely Aiwendis.�

The blue opal on Udu’s hand had lost its light, but still Khamûl had not taken the sword from his hand. “I have no doubts that you would best me in combat by one means or another,� his cold eyes grew harder. “I will not fight you simply because I do not wish any disputations between us to attract attention in this city,� he said coldly as he sheathed his sword, never taking his eyes from Khamul’s face.

“Now that I have learned both wisdom and manners,� he hissed sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest, “I cannot say that I like either your lessons in wisdom or in manners. They remind me too much of the type I learned all too well at the hands of our fallen Master.

“As for your company, Khamûl,� he said disdainfully, “I do not enjoy it, and I do not consider this,� he gestured with his hand at the room, “a party. I would much rather be elsewhere. I found the maidens who danced at the reception of some interest, and I would much prefer to be in their company than yours! Now do you object to my getting a drink of wine?� He surveyed Khamûl arrogantly. "Perhaps then we could all talk peacefully."

[CrazySquirrel]

"Riight", laughed Khamul, "pour yourself some wine, Udu. And don’t forget to pour some for Buz. Make yourself comfortable, and you will have your third lesson today. And that is: "never forgive anyone"! You both will surely enjoy watching how I deal with our darling Little Lil…"

With that, Khamul picked Lilly, who lay squirming on the floor, and threw her on the bed. A thin horse whip appeared in Khamul’s left hand. In his right, he still held his long, slightly curved oriental sword.

"Why me?" shrieked terrified Lilly. I did nothing at all! Ask them - she pointed at Udu and Buz.

Khamul laughed again, an evil cold sound.

"Look at your robe, Lilly. I believe, you spent all the evening studying, that’s why you have candle wax all over you. Yes, you must have been writing your three scroll paper in Commerce! That explains ink-stains on your ample bosom. And on your face, Buzukkumarz", he hissed, turning with a lightning speed and pointing his sword at Five’s face.

[Udukhaturz]

“Yes, a drink,� Udu said as he walked to the table, reaching down and picking up his half-filled bottle of wine. “Perhaps you would care for some too!� he said as he hurled the wine bottle towards the back of Khamul’s head. The distraction took Khamûl’s attention from Buzukkumarz for an instant. Then Udu rushed upon the Black Easterling, dragging him down to the floor with him. As they fell, Udu pulled a dagger from the sheath at his belt.

“Filthy Tark!� hissed Khamûl, his eyes blazing red, as Udu held the knife to his throat. Then Udu slapped him backhanded across the face twice with his other hand.

“Another thing you should learn, my friend, on the road to wisdom is never leave your back unguarded. Flee Lilly! I cannot hold him for long!�

[Valandil]

As the carriage wheeled its way along, Valandil sat staring out the window, deep in thought. He was recalling the contact he had made with his father's sword that evening, and how it had even tried to warn him - that enemies were about and even not to drink from the cup! How foolish he had been to go through with it, he thought. Still... nothing to do of it now, and no harm seemed to have come from it anyway.

He resisted the desire to touch the pommel of his sword and try to renew contact. Oreturion would surely know if communication of some sort was going on, and Valandil wished to find out whatever he could first by himself, before revealing this to Oreturion. He wasn't even sure if he should tell Estelmo about it. Still though, Estelmo had known his father much better than Oreturion - for Oreturino had only met Isildur when he had fled north to Arnor.

"You really liked her, didn't you?" asked Estelmo, interrupting his thoughts.

"Wh-who? Earniel? Aiwendis?? ... Rian???" asked Valandil, caught a little off-guard.

"Oh," said the elder, "I was referring to the Chancellor's daughter, although you danced with some other fine young ladies this evening - but missed a few as well, I noticed. Still... young men like to fancy Elven ladies and all that, but that Aiwendis now... SHE is a fine young lady of full Numenorean heritage... and more fitted to be the wife of a Man.... the Queen, perhaps, of a King."

Valandil's thought's raced, and he found that he still knew no more of his heart than he had weeks before, when he had first come to this place - even though he had met the enchanted Lady of Nin-in-Eilph. Fortunately for him though, the carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. They had arrived back home and the hour was late. It was time to retire for the evening.

And no reply need be given to Estelmo's questioning... this time.

[Serenoli]

It is extraordinary the effect wine can have on people. Sitting in the warm and cosy Swinging Swan with an old and a new friend, and having eaten well, and now drinking well, Jas, the mild, shy, soft-spoken Jas began a monologue on himself without realizing it...

"So how did you enter the teaching profession, then, Maethor?" And before a reply could be given, he was answering the question himself, "I, myself, was forced to earn a living at an early age, and knowing of nothing much except wines, found myself teaching. I had a dream, you know, of having my own vineyard... but circumstances..."

Bumbledore, who knew well enough his friend's tendency to get slightly tragic after the fifth bottle, and who also knew the only cure was to get him a bit more drunk, now began energetically pouring out another goblet for him... and making sure he was preoccupied changed the topic to stop Jas from starting again.

[Butterbeer]

"Whats the soil like down there in Linhir? ... good wine growing area is it? any varietals specialised down that way?"

asked Bumble quickly, pouring Jas another drink ... and leaning over he toppped up maethor's goblet ...

It had been Jas's dream to make his own wines on his own Vineyard... and Sir Bumbledore was, as it happened, looking for a good investment opportunity ... preferebly somewhere hot, by the sea, and where the wine would flow ...

with Jas's skill and his money .... mmm ... he and Jas had only vaguely talked about it so far, but as the chill Autumn turned to Winter ever his thoughts went to a wintring in a warmer clime ...

Noticing the fifth bottle was perilously low Bumble blew a shorty chirpy whistle "phee-eww-phwor up" (this suprised meathor somewhat) till he saw the barman come over with a chilled white in a bucket, and the wine parchment again ...

[Rían]

Noon-ish, Monday, near the University

Alagos was sitting in a nice sunny spot in town near the University, happily singing to himself and fletching his arrows, when Eärniel and RÃ*an walked by. RÃ*an stopped for a moment and smiled, pointing him out to Eärniel - he was in a world of his own right now and would never even notice her, even if she walked right by him. He finished wrapping and tied off the thread, then held it critically up against the sky, where apparently it passed muster, because he laid it carefully down with some others that he had finished previously. He stretched his fingers out and looked around, then saw his sister and her friend.

"RÃ*an! Eärniel!" he called out to them, beckoning them over. "How was the first day of classes?" he asked as they came up to him and sat down.

"Oh, very interesting," replied his sister. "I think I'm going to really like Jewelry Making!"

"And I think my classes will be interesting as well," said Eärniel. "I'm rather glad that I decided to come, although I already miss my home."

Alagos reached out for another shaft and applied a bit of glue near the nock end. "I'd love to come for a visit sometime - I like seeing new places," he said as he carefully applied one of the feathers he had trimmed down. "If that is acceptable to the Lady of Nîn in Eilph, of course. I hear the elves there are fond of archery, as am I, and that those that come without her permission soon regret it!"

Eärniel laughed. "Yes, we do like our privacy, and we make unwelcome visitors feel our displeasure, but you and your sister are hardly in that category," she said warmly. "I'm sure it can be arranged."

"What can be arranged?" said Tyaron, coming up and sitting down next to Alagos.

Alagos looked quickly at his sister, but she didn't seem inclined to answer, so he explained about visiting Nîn in Eilph. Eärniel was quick to extend the invitation to him, too.

"I would very much like to visit there - it sounds worth risking a few arrows to see!" Tyaron said, and picked up one of the shafts from the little pile of shafts awaiting their feathers, running it through his fingers.

"I just came from Hwesta, RÃ*an, and she is well," he said, turning to face RÃ*an. "I took her out for a short ride, which she was very glad to have, and then brushed her down and left her with some treats. She is being well taken care of."

"Thank you, I'm glad to hear that, and I'm sure she appreciated the ride. Please take her out whenever you want to."

Tyaron nodded and, reaching for a feather, asked Alagos, "Do you want me to glue while you wrap?"

Alagos slapped his hand away in mock anger as he replied, "Get your big, clumsy swordsman's hands away from my feathers!"

Tyaron rolled his eyes and mumbled a reply, in which the elvish equivalents of "neurotic archers" and other such descriptive words figured largely.

"Oh, you're just jealous, because you know what they say about archers..." said Alagos slyly.

"I know what swordsmen say about archers," replied Tyaron thoughtfully, as he critically examined the arrow shaft.

Alagos laughed and grabbed the wooden shaft out of his hand. "And you know what the archers say about swordsmen, and you must admit it's funnier!"

Tyaron grinned and said, "It is pretty funny, I admit!"

"Oh, stop it, you two!" said RÃ*an in exasperation. She turned to Eärniel. "You have no idea how lucky you are to not have a brother!" She turned back to the two men just in time to see Alagos doing a very good imitation of her to Tyaron, who was trying to stifle a laugh. "I can see we're not needed here; they're amusing themselves just fine!" she said huffily, but trying to stifle a laugh herself because Alagos was so clever at imitations.

Alagos actually laid down the shaft he was working on, knocking the feather askew (horrors!), and going around behind his sister, put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, sister; we just like teasing each other. But now I am your slave; tell me what you wish me to do and I will do it."

RÃ*an looked at him complacently and reached up to caress his hair. "Oh, stop - you know I can't stay mad at you for very long, anyway. But I would like a song - it's such a lovely day. One of your light, quick ones."

Tyaron's voice was full and rich and was at its best in the slower songs, but Alagos's voice was fluid and melodious, and he excelled at the quick little grace notes and other such things that added such beauty to the lighter songs. He kissed his sister and then, sitting up straight, started singing.

[Grey_Wolf]

"Treat, Treat, where are you?" the others shouted when the mischiveous marten just disappeared in front of their eyes.

[Butterbeer]

"It is him, the stable-boy! I have known it from the start! T’was him as was with Zimra last night, t’was him as made her drink, and lied about it! He murdered her as sure as if he pushed her down hisself!".

Constable BB took a step back, shaking his head and sending his long curly locks glinting in the first rays of sunshine seen that morning ...

Nimphredil, his young wife, had learnt a few secrets from an elf once .. and the shampoos she concocted were the marvel of Tharbad ...

she had taken to bottling it and now sold this wonderous concoction between three and six on Mondays on a little stall down on The street of the hours ... make a lovely present, all wrapped up nice like, she'd said .... "reassuringly expensive!" she'd added with a mischevious smile ...



"Now then, now then, Lass!" said bariliman took a back momentarily ...

Zimra started crying, great heaving hysterical sobs ....

barli stood there hesitating, pity in his eyes .... then slowly he took her in his arms and gently patting her back steered her into the hall and with his unnerring sense of where food and drink could be found and following watson's keen nose and wagging tail he found the kitchen...

Sitting her down at the rough hewn oak kitchen table he put a brew on ...

"nice cup o' tea's what you needs me dear"

As zimra's sobs slowly subsided the whistle of the kettle brought them both back from their thoughts ...

barli brought two mugs to the kitchen table and the pot ...

"Where's the milk and sugar?' he added absently mindedly, looking around

Zimra looked up at last, "over there " - she pointed - and before Barliman could move she got up, pulling herself together a bit and straightening her hair ... nice hair thought Bingo ... a bit frazzled and dull, mind ... he must remember to have Nimphredil bring a bottle over ...



when at last they had had a few sips of tea, Constable BB, with a cough, continued his questions...

"How's your tea? ..not too strong i hope?"

" ... fine, thank-you Constable ..." zimra replied awkwardly.

"Now, now .. Bingo between friends, an' in private like ..."

Zimra, after the shock news, was now thinking about what she had said by the doorway... oh dear ..she really wasn't sure about all that ..what had she done? She dreaded The questioning of the watch - what would she say to his next question? ... she was dreading it ...


barliman had something pressing on his mind, well only one way to find out ...

"Any brandy and milk around, here?"

Once watson was happily having some of his favourite tipple from a bowl on the floor at barli's feet, and the constable was sure the lass had calmed down a bit ... she'd almost smiled at the thankful look on watson's face when he'd sniffed the bowl ... The constable, twiddling anxiously with the star on red sable pinned at the top of his green watch cloak, the emblem of the watch and a proud and noble insignia, to his mind ....

twiddling with that he finally decided the investti-er-agttin' had better start....

"Now then, Zimra, perhaps you tell me what all that was you were a saying just now? Who's this "him" and what's it all about?"

and though he said it kindly, his eyes were keen and he watched her closely ...

[Serenoli]

Having poured the medicinal wine down her throat, Jas waited with bated breath to see if it would work... and yes! she was no longer shivering, and he could see her lips moving soundlessly.

"What?" He asked, bending close to her, and in an indistinct whisper, she muttered words of a language so strange, so uncouth, and so horrifying, that the only explanation he could give was that she was having nightmares which had produced a delirium. "Poor soul is raving in an Easterling tongue", he explained to the others.

This made Maethor seem even more alarmed, as he poured bottle after bottle down the lady's throat, and started talking of taking her home. Did they live together then? Jas wondered.

At that moment, another man walked into the Swinging Swan and came towards them. "Why, fancy running into you here, dear sister! And Maethor, also a pleasant surprise! Mind if I join you all for an early evening brandy?"

Jas was abashed and astonished. Her brother! What must he think, seeing him hold his sister like that? And yet, he seemed to be entirely unconcerned that a stranger had his arms around his sister...

Suddenly he felt rather bewildered. It was hard to think, with all the wine which had befuddled his brains... but now the momentary feeling of heroism he had had, was gone... and he wondered what was really going on. The lady accusing Maethor of being a faithless lover, and then the lady having fits, and now a brother. And a whisper that had chilled his heart, though he did not know why... Suddenly he wished he were back at his home... surely she was safe now?

He addressed her brother:"Sir, you may be surprised at seeing your sister in my arms, but the truth is she was suddenly taken ill, as you must know she does and I was only supporting her. We have tried wine as a medicine, and it has been slightly effacious. Now that you are here, I think I can safely leave her in your charge... she needs a rest after all this excitement. I, however must be home"

He pulled the inert Lily to her feet, and she swayed slighlt on the spot. Pengolod got up at once and the transfer was safely effected. Now Lily rested snugly in her brother's arms, and Jas took his leave of them all.

"Maethor, it has been good knowing you, and I hope we shall be seeing much more of each other. Bumbledore, are you coming, or would you rather stay back for a while?"

[Grey_Wolf]

As Scars, Trick and Treat, the three mischievies martens, scampered around Tharbad playing around with the ring they just happened to come near a forge, and being curious, Scars suggested they throw the ring in the fire to see what would happen.

They let the ring lie there in the fire for a while and then as gingerly as they could scraped the ring out of the glowing coal and lo! and behold...letters began appearing on the golden outside of the ring.

[Butterbeer]

in some strange language they were, glowing now.... yet it seemed that though they knew the language not, that to the minds of Scars, Trick and Treat the meaning of the language became slowly clear ...

slowly they read the runes on the ring ...

"Do not throw me into the fire!"

[Gordis]

University, Monday, around 3PM,

Aiwendis walked through the campus heading towards the Engineering Building. The Chancellor was late for dinner after his Ship Building class and she decided to go look for him. She wanted to talk with him in private, and the empty Engineering Building was the best place for it. Aiwendis went through the Reception Hall, turned right on Bar Aran and followed a quiet lane between the Armoury and the Wine Building. She was almost at a corner, when she heard Valandil’s deep melodious voice, which immediately sent shivers down her spine and brought blood to her pale cheeks. The King was talking quietly to someone, unaware of being overheard:

" Arnor is land-locked. It's not an island, like Numenor was. We have one significant port - and we're in it. Even Tharbad is tiny compared with Umbar, Pelargir, Osgiliath, and so forth. Why - we, grandpa anyway, even had to abandon Lond Daer Ened after the Deluge... it was just too badly damaged. So we're stuck with our single major port nearly a hundred leagues inland, up this cruddy river! And it has to practically shut down for two or three months every winter - further north, we have to close our ports for four months or six. What's the use of trying to compete with those ports of the south?"

Aiwendis stopped in her tracks, frightened by her own reaction. Her night dreams came to the forefront of her mind again. "What is happening to me? Am I in love with a mortal, in love with an enemy?"

She was ready to turn and flee, when the King and Raendil, laughing and talking animatedly, turned into the lane and saw her. Lowering her long lashes to hide her eyes, Aiwendis made a deep curtsey.