Melkors Chosen [Archive] - Wireplay Community Forums

misterroboto2

09-12-2006, 07:00

Zel walked the halls of the vizier's palace, slowly approaching the stairs down to the Shrine of Melkor. The courtesans glared at him with much disdain, mocking his appearance in hushed tone. The mage grinned nonetheless, ignoring the crowd. He stopped in front of the head eunuch's desk and panned his head slightly, contemplating the throne room and the busy vizier. "It could have been all mine", he thought. He shrugged and resumed his way toward the temple. The shrinekeeper gasped as he saw the necromancer. He promptly bowed and stepped out of the way his eyes betraying fear.

The shrine was unusually active that day. Melkor's day was to be celebrated the next day, so many preparations were being made. Candles made of human blood (gondorian, to be precise) were being lit, filling the room with a scent of burning death. The two prisoners - a one-eyed gondorian mage and a traitorous kin- were bound next to the gong. They had recently been beaten and apparently lost all will to live. They were nonetheless forced to help preparing the ceremony.

Zel's gaze met his Mistress, Igraine. She was ordering the orcs around, most likely in anticipation for the next day's mission. Her belly was swelling day-by-day, making her pregnancy more obvious as time flew by. The mage admired his Mistress, her strength, her guile her... He shook his head somewhat violently, attracting the curious looks of the slaves there. He couldn't let himself have any feelings for anyone, especially not those kind. that part of him had died long before this day, in the cold caves of Dol Guldur...

The screams of a woman giving birth. Manôzîr had acquired a professional detachment toward them over the years, but these one gave him the chills. They were otherworldly in a sense, as if she was suffering a thousand deaths. Manôzîr had been assigned to the orc breeding department for ten years now while he studied sorcery under Alphanzôr. His magical efforts had been rather vain so far, his powers were quite limited. Alphanzôr kept repeating that he had to "merge" with the Eye, that he had to let go of his humanity, yet he just didn't know how to do this. The breeder focused at the task at hand and touched the woman's belly, prompting louder screams of pure pain. At first he wondered why she had been sent to him, as he specializes dealing with orcs, but the reason soon became painfully apparent. "She has been ... coupled with a troll", he gasped in horror. Sorcery was at work, there was no doubt of that.

Was this a test to see his reaction? Manôzîr shook his head and took a short sword. He quickly slashed the woman's belly open and extirpated a rather ghastly looking offspring. The woman sighed : "Please, let it live..." . She then slowly shut her eyes and let death come to her. Such a selfless act moved Manôzîr and stirred a last spark of compassion in him. "Weze eatz?", a nearby orc asked, drooling in anticipation. Manôzir hesitated for a few seconds and finally said "No.... no this one we keep. He is the Master's creation. Make sure he is treated like the other younglings.". The orc blinked, shrugged and complied.

As the flashback kept rushing in his mind, Zelerdor was fighting an intense nausea. He was struggling to hide this weakness from the lesser thralls. He closed his eyes, abandonned his will to the Eye's and regained his senses. He glared at the slaves around him and proceeded to clean the Shrine for the rituals to come. He carefully washed the floor by animating a mop with his will and he gathered the various objects lying on the ground. What he found there froze his soul in horror. His old Skull Mask... the one from his Dol Guldur days. Its emptied eyes glared at him, its wicked grin cruelly mocked him as the memories rose to the surface.

Manôzîr watched the creature grow over the years. It displayed as much strength as the mightiest orc and the guile of a manling. It quickly rose through the ranks of Dol Guldur and became a troop leader remarkably fast. Its success gave the breeder much pride, akin to that of a father's. Even though the creature was unable to feel any kind of gratitude or care, the breeder treated it as his son. As it grew stronger, Manôzîr's prowess in sorcery diminished and eventually vanished. He was demoted to being a simple thrall. He eventually joined the half-troll's company as a lowly healer.

One ill-fated night, the troop raided an elven camp in the northern parts of Mirkwood. Arrows were flying left and right, slaying the orcs with surgical precision. The death toll was high on both side of the skirmish but the forces of darkness won that one. The half-troll led a last assault against the elves, slaughtering 3 with one powerful blow of his greataxe before one arrow finally took its cursed life. As the victory cries faded, the orcs left the battlefield, leaving only corpses and Manôzîr behind. He knelt at the creature's lifeless body and attempted to use the very last ounce of power in his body to give life to the creature he had sacrificed much for.

He implored the Eye to give him this one last wish. As he opened his eyes, a strange figure rose from the half-troll's corpse. It was comprised of the dead creature's flesh and bones. It resembled a floating eyeball with tentacles attacked to its "back". Its mouth suddenly opened, letting out a ghastly moan. At first they were but random sounds, but they quickly assembled into words inside Manôzîr's mind. "KiiiIiiIiiIIiill meeeeeee. Cease this atrocious existence, father. KiiiIiiiill meeeeeeeee." The man let out a terrible cackle as he understood the absurdity of life. The combined weight of all his previous failures finally crushed what little sanity he had left. A fireball flew from his open hand to the floating abomination, incinerating it in one loud explosion. All that was left of the half-troll was a charred skull, grinning even in death. Manôzîr took it in his hands and put it on his head, as he would a helm. He turned to the orcs and, with one hand gesture, brought firey death to all survivors of the assault. Somewhere in Dol Guldur Alphanzor grinned. His plan had finally come to fruition. Zelerdor was born.

"M...master, are you well?", a slave fearfully asked. A sharp pain brought Zel back to the present. It was his own dagger, stuck in his backside and drawing much blood. He swiftly took it out and growled at the thrall : "I'll be fine. Just get me some bandages". "Sh...shall I get the Mistr...", the slave enquired. "No! Don't bother her with this. Just... get the bandages.", Zel barked. He sat in a dark corner while the slave rushed to get the healing supplies. The mage's hand slowly crept to the open wound and then to his mouth. "Warm... I am still human after all...", he muttered. When the slave came back, Zel was already gone and the skull helm, shattered on the ground.

Lady Igraine

11-12-2006, 16:30

This is just a quick update regarding players current status within the guild, some may have been omitted due to extended time away.

Mistress of The Shrine

Igraine High Priestess

Council of the Chosen

Zelerdor
Kaldir acting Field Marshall
Saibeth
Roman Champion

Blades of Umbar

Irthan Captain of the Bloodfangs
Mortorius
Moia
Calina
Illyanna Scribe

The Bloodfangs
Horse
Gurg
Barbag
Morgie
Hrowlf
Urruz-Sum

Initiates
Grod
Ulgardh

Affiliates
Inzil

I would also like to thank the staff for allowing us to become a guild , and to all our members that have been doing such a good job that they would have us as a one. Special thanks to Gwahir for the fantastic update on the Shrine and all his support throughout, I am certain we would not have gotten here had you not been involved. The Mistress is very pleased .

Lady Igraine

11-12-2006, 17:51

As the storm slowly calmed she looked out her window to the harbor below, concerned at the state of the fleet, all seemed well thankfully. She knew that the lifeblood of Umbar rested in its hands and that nothing was more important to their health as a nation. With a look of satisfaction she returned to her desk, "so much yet to do " she thought as she looked over the notes on the new initiates. So many had heard Melkor's call, the scope of his plan impressed even her, "my how far we have come", she thought as she unconsciously rubbed her swelling stomach. She rose to examine her form in the mirror, this new body was alien to her and she did not care for the changes to her . She wondered if her current state would draw out any enemies that thought her weak. A smile took over her face, it pleased her when a plan had additional benefits, but she doubted any would emerge. The young master of the Silverswords had his own problems and clearly was no threat at present and she doubted that Gondor had yet learned of her roll in their recent defeats. There was always the other Hands of Sauron, she wondered if Culkett was actually working with the Berevals grandson, she could never be certain, she had better assume they are, what of Kheav ? He had long been gone and she doubted such affairs mattered to him at this time, Roce ? Ah Roce, a smile came over her face despite herself, she wondered if he was dead. He had been fun, and certainly a skilled lover, but he lacked the skills to be a true leader, it was a shame, she had such hopes for him, but she did learn from his mistakes. Would she ever see him again ? what would she do if she did ? Likely she would not, but she would have to repay him for his past threats if she did, ah but he liked being whipped she recalled, no matter, she needed a creative outlet. He had been foolish to underestimate her and to openly speak his mind to her, but that was his charm wasn't it ? She turned her gaze back to the page. Moia was ready, the council had approved, " this one has potential ", she thought. She remembered what Mortorius had said long ago, she was a young warrior version of herself, perhaps, but this one is clearly mad, but that has its strengths also. Moia would be greatly shocked to know how long she had been watched by Igraine, how her coming to the fold had been decided long ago, she no doubt thought it was her own idea, a smile, what did she have others call her ? mistress ? Melkor worked through this one and she was not even aware of it. She hoped that one of the young pups would soon emerge as a threat to one of the Council, if not , she was not doing her job properly, but which would be first ? She smiled with a mothers pride, it could be any of them, they were all treacherous, ambitious and hungry for power, " this one will fit in well " she thought as she put her seal on the application, "she will do just fine".

OOC welcome to our newest member Moia

Nightspell

12-12-2006, 05:14

Sitting in the underground of Isengard. Moia paces. Her companions should have been back by now. "Bahh thoes foolish ingrates. Where are they? I am due my cut of that which we found." She growled. Getting ever more frustrated she takes out her mounting anger upon thoes helpless rats that litter the cavern. Slashing one to bits and crushing the head of another with her boot she does not notice the figure walking up behind her. Fully in the throws of her anger and whorling around with her blade she stops it a mere hairs width from his neck. "What do you want?" she growls. "I came here looking for aid in a task that was set before me" he calmly stated steping away from the blade. Moia's features oddly and suddenly soften, her mood drastically changing. "Is that so? Well then what did you have in mind?" she sweetly asks. "But first what is your name?" He calmly states, "I am Orion." Moia's voice becomes suddenly cold. "You may call me Mistress." She replies. What task is this that you have need of?" "I was asked to enter some portal, yet I fear that we are not enough for this task." He says. "Perhaps you have another idea?" Moia thinks to herself, almost reading his thoughts, "I do recall a town of hobbits, Stoors I believe they are called. We could destroy them and take whatever loot that is in the town. And slaughter any elves we may see along the way. What do you think of that?" Orion gives an evil chuckel. "Yes that would do nicely for some entertainment."

Leaving Isengard Moia can't but help to think of what tasks she had set for herself in the previous weeks. Completely distracted she walks, not toward the Mirkwood, but toward Tharbad. Orion askes once why they were headed in that direction but his only answer was a threatning growl and an icy glare. He knew that to demand anything more of this obviously crazed woman would mean a deadly fight. A fight he was not certain he would win or lose. Not wanting to miss out on a opertunity for some action and adventure he continued along with her. Adventure and excitment must easily follow one such as this he thought to himself.

Entering Tharbad, Moia walked on toward the center of the city. Crossing the bridge she stoped. Surveying the city she notice a circular constructed building. A great double door at it's entrance. She knew, instantly, the name of the palce she saw. Cautiously and steadly walking up to it's entrance and looking all about to see if she was being watched. For she knew, with her conversation with Lady Igraine, even though a family would watch out for eachother they also like to watch eachother. She turned to Orion and said "do you know of this place?" His responce was" I think I had a few ales here some time ago". Moia nodded shorted and said "this is the guild of the Silverswords, Blades for hire. Speak little, I have business here." With that she entered the building.

Boldly walking into the guild hall she spyed a man standing by some display cases. In a tone that dripped of athority and arrogance, "where is the leader of this guild, I would speak with him." The man looked at her and giving no heed to her tone simply asked "who wishes to know?" Moia gritted her teeth knowing that if she were to get what she wanted from this man brute force and a commanding voice would not be enough. She Snarled, "My name is Moia and I am here to hire the services of this guild". The guards around the room visibly relaxed their heavy crossbows. The man she was speaking to steped forward, "well then the man whom you seek is me. My name is Syrenik Silversword, Guild leader. What is that you wish to hire us for?" Moia began "what I seek, pehaps, may not be what you are usually hired for. What I want is information." Syrenik took a casual step back and raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? what kind of information?" he said. Moia grited her teeth. "I want you to find any and all you can about me. More specifically where I come from." Syrenik looked Moia over once noting the obvious features that most Numenorians display in the faces yet they did not seem so pronounced in her. Then it struck him. "You have the look of one of Igraine's band." he said. Moia looked back at him not startled a bit that it was so easy for him to guess. "Yes she does count me as one of her family" she simply stated. "Hmm" he said as he thought on this for a moment. "Why do you want me to find out where you came from?" he said. Moia blurted out in growling words " She wants to know where I came from. So Damn that pregnamt bitch she'll get the information she seeks and a blade along with it too." Obviously amused by this outburst Syrenik grined. Moia's face suddenly and weirdly softened and her breathing slowed. This was not lost on Syrenik. An odd responce he noted. "So what can you tell me to get me started upon this job?" he simply and calmly stated. Moia's voice came out almost as a sweet wisper, "I was raised here in Tharbad, in the orphanage. I searched through the records that they had but I found nothing." Syrenik asked, " how old are you?" "I know not but the records go back some thirity winters" Moia responded. Syrenik noted that Moia did not look to be more than twenty five winters old perhaps less. "Thirity winters huh? Anything more that you could give to help us with this search?" Moia shook her head, "No, all I know is the orphanage and my name Moia". Syrenik Nodded, " I see, well then, there will be no payment demanded upfront. If nothing is found a charge will not be established but if suitable information is found you will be charged a fee." Moia nodded her agreement. She looked over her shoulder at Orion whom she had almost forgotten had come in with her. She glared at him, "If you speak a word of this to anyone I will tear your throut out do you understand me?" In a tone so threatningly and promising that no one who heard her doubted her intent.

Lady Igraine

21-12-2006, 07:12

Due to the coming festival in memory of Melkors contribution to the Great Song, the Chosen will be occupied with Church activities until the New Year. All members are encouraged to bring an Elf or Gondorian to temple for sacrifice and to take part in the festivities. This is not to say that we will not be active, but there will be no other official functions until the festival is complete.
Also, in other news, due to Saibeth's long absence from the Temple, with no news of her whereabouts, she will be temporarily suspended from the Council until her status can be established, we will therefore require a deputy Council member with the possibility of a permanant promotion. Any that wish this position will require a recommendation from a current Council member to be put forward for approval . If none are put forward there will be an open contest by combat that any Human or Numenorean member may enter if they wish the position . Please note Initiates may not enter, only full members. If none come forward someone will be appointed but I will be very disappointed if it comes to that.
May Melkor's darkness shroud your steps.
Your Beloved High Priestess
Igraine, Mistress of the Shrine

Lady Igraine

03-01-2007, 14:31

I know you have all been waiting for a chance to make the Gondorians pay for thier crimes and I am pleased to announce our plans our completed, a ship is prepared and our targets chosen. We will strike them hard and without mercy and all will have an opportunity for glory. All members that are not on other duties will be expected to take part.
Also in other news, I have just recently received a letter from the Master Smith of Mordor, he tells me he has recieved a supply of Mithril from our Moia that will provide for stronger weapons for Saurons army, we are pleased to see our members extending our influence and making useful allies.

//OOC This Saturday at 3pm GMT we will have our event in Gondor, for those that can make it, I would like to meet a half hour or so before on mIRC for a general discussion, thats #Melkor'sChosen. It would be nice to get some idea of the things our members would like to do.

DM_Olórin

10-01-2007, 14:00

nice to see so many good IC posts here folks :)

*the old man in grey has heard rumors of things forthcoming in the very near future*

Nightspell

11-01-2007, 17:25

Moias' meeting with Syrenik was brief, but he had given Moia everything she had asked him for. Even though he had found out more than what she had asked. He told her the tale of information that he had rehersed several times so that if a question would be forth comming his answer would simply be the same as his story. Moia, taking everything in, nodded a few times at certain details. He could see in her eyes that she was completely stunned by the news. He figured that he was going to have to repeat this story to someone so he made a mental note to commit it to memory. As everything unfolded Syrenik could see that she was fighting an inner conflicet. "Someting was about to happen with this one" he thought. Time for this meeting to end. He made a jesture for payment and Moia took out a bulging sack of coins and tossed it to him. Syrenik briefly looked inside with a smile. She had paid him more than he had asked for. He nodded toward the door and added "My dear I must ask you to leave. I have a trip comming and business to attend to." Moia nodded and walked away. She was filled with such inner turmoil that she had hardly knew that she had arrived in Western Tharbad just past the docks. She booked passage upon the only ship she knew would take her were she knew she had to go. Umbar. Lady Igraine was waiting for her, and she new it.

Nightspell

11-01-2007, 17:56

Moia walked into the temple looking wildly around. The fear she felt of being hunted had taken control of her. She knew her father, if he was still alive, quite possibly was here in Umbar. Does Lady Igraine know? Does she know who he is? As she waked closer to the door that held her future, her hand shook. She had nearly dropped the key she needed to unlock the door. Finally, somewhat gathering herself and calming her limbs, she opened the door and walked in. She was there!! Lady Igraine was sitting patiently upon her throne. "was she waiting here for me, how did she know I was comming?" Moia thought to herself. Moia strightened her posture so as to not appear weak and looked toward Lady Igraine. "Hello Moia." were the first words spoken. They seemed caring, sweet, and inviting. Moia visibly calmed. "Hello M'Lady" Moia responded. "I have news, news of information that you have requested of me." Igraine's eye sparkeled with inner delight at the promise of what she sought from this Blade of MelKor. "The Silversword has brought you news?" Moia nodded, "yes". Igraine, Lounged back into her throne and gave a wave bidding Moia continue telling all she found out. Moia looked Lady Igraine over. Noticing the obvious buldge of her belly. Her eyes shifted back to look Lady Igraine in the eyes again and began telling her story.

As Moia told Lady Igraine what she had found out, Igraine just nodded several times unsuprised by most of it. She had noted the several sudden changes in mood and posture that came over Moia as she spoke. "This one is truly troubled" she thought to her self as she began an inner smile. "Such a wounderful tool". Lady Igraine helped Moia to see what future she holds and understanding her Numenorian side of her bloodline. Explaining their past and intended future history, Lady Igraine had won over Moia with easy grace. She knew that this one would follow her orders without question.

As the time passed and the discussion topic had changed, Moia had begun to notice that Lady Igraine was becomming more and more uncomfortable. The time had come to leave, Moia knew. Looking again that Lady Igraine's swollen belly she had figured it would not be long now. Lady Igraine had told her approximately 80 more days, before the babe would come. As she nodded to Lady Igraine and bid her farewell, Moia's rage swelled. She would kill, yes, and she would quench her thirst for blood. One day, upon her father who had tried to kill her. Her revenge would be complete. Her last thoughts as she left the temple, " You should have killed me father. Now it is to late, the tables have turned. You are now the prey and I am the hunter. Prepair to die when I find you."

Lady Igraine

15-01-2007, 19:49

Great post Nightspell, please keep them coming. I would like to give a warm welcome to our newest Initiate Orion, please help him if you can and keep a watchful eye on him;) .

Now there are a few things I wanted to bring up. We have recently lost a member to a permanant ban who was caught cheating. I will not go into details so dont even bother to ask me, however this brings forward a point I may not have mentioned in the past.
As members of a guild, we are to be an example to the community in conduct and behavior, this is especially important because we are evil , and evils tend to be a more reckless group. I expect you all to try to be examples to others regarding following rules and your superior rollplay. I know we are not always at our best, and sometimes might look the other way when things happen, but I ask you all to try to put that extra effort into your play, not only will it make you look good , and the guild look good, but most importantly it will make me look good :) (I am joking). But seriously, we have become a very high profile group on the server in a short period of time and it seems inevitable to me that we will become examples to new players, specifically evils, so lets all try to be the best players/ community members we can be. If I hear of anyone cheating I will suspend and report them, so please dont do it, I hear alot.

On a more positive note, I would like to say you have all been doing a super job ! I think the rollplay level you have all shown is outstanding and you have begun to make an impression on the rest of Arda. I think at this point we have a quality bunch and will therefore be slowing down the membership process. I would like to see our current group solidify and be clear on who is with us and who isnt before we make any new moves regarding rank or position.
Also, due to erratic attendance I will be slowing down our weekly gatherings to bi-weekly. This will be less demanding on time and the staff and will perhaps make the events we do have more special. We will have some sort of function this weekend but I would like each of you to give me a time range that works for you so that we can accomodate as many as possible, I am hoping morning on my side of the pond and early afternoon on the other side works because our friend Gurg lives in Japan and the time difference is hard for him, but he can make early events. If you do not put a preffered time down do not complain to me about the time we do choose.
Also, if any of you have something you would like the guild to do, a story or plot idea feel free to mention it and we will try to follow up on it. Also any thought, suggestions or improvements that you may have, please bring them forward, we are a young guild, and still evolving and I know there must be things we can do better, but I am new to this and have been trying my best to make things as comfortable and interesting as possible for all of you.
Lastly, I would like to thank you all for your support and your enthusiasm, you have all made this guild experience very rewarding for me and I have no regrets regarding the time and energy I have put into it. I know it can be lonely as an evil, or you can run out of things to do, but you have all kept busy with plots and intrigue very becoming of servants of Melkor, please keep up the good work, and forgive me if I sound a tad serious, but I just want to lay the ground work now for our very bright future.

Your beloved High Priestess
Igraine

DM_Kev

15-01-2007, 20:25

My thanks to Melkor's Chosen for co-operating in the unfortunate matter above and for their intention to help promote honest and ethical play on our server.

Berry

16-01-2007, 16:24

((Hello all!

I just wanted to say I'm very sorry for missing so much of the awsome-to-hear events, due to my timezone and RL issues. I'm hoping I'll have more time soon, when my erm.. most annoying Japanese exams (>.<) end.

So once again, I'm sorry, and I hope to see you all soon and work much needed strife around the world. :) (Well, I just said that so don't mind it >.>)

-Berry))

DM_Olórin

20-01-2007, 02:56

It would seem that the strange sounds that have disturbed the rest of the grand vizier of Umbar of late have their source beneath his court. In the Chambers behind the shrine used by the Chosen, something has been happening...

Down below, one of the stone walls has been brought down stone by stone, revealing a forgotten stairway ending in an ancient stone door...

As to what agency opened this sealed stair and what lies beyond the eldritch portal it is not known... the strange pale men that have appeared in the chambers, seem to belong there... they call themselves "servants of the temple" yet no member of the Chosen has recruited them...

So the dreams began for the Misstress Igraine... Each night since the portal revealed itself in the chambers beneath...

the door opening in the dark... a shadow in the blackness beyond it... a voice... as old as the stones... a name uttered... Argûl...

OOC: feel free to regard the shrine, dungeon and common room areas as having always been there or merely as an expansion on what was there. It was intended as a revamp :) The area beyond the locked stone door will, of course, be new to you.

misterroboto2

20-01-2007, 06:25

Indre sighed. The musicians were playing a slow, enthralling, song in the back of her "establishment" (as the authorities called it), thus making the clients extra comfortable. And everyone knows a man's genorisity is directly proportional to their level of comfort. That was the very basis of her trade, and she had mastered it over the years. She had even personally given that comfort in a past that seemed so distant to her. Indre was still a beautiful woman despite her relatively old age: time had surprisingly spared her body. She once had caught some of her girls gossiping about her in the leisure rooms; they were convinced that the mistress of the brothel had numenorean ancestors. Indre didn't bother to correct them: after all she didn't know much of her origins herself. She never felt the need to learn about them either. "The past is nothing more than a prison for the soul" was her philosophy.

She basked herself in the pleasant atmosphere of the House, trying to forget her financial woes for a moment. The administration work of such a complicated business would crush the sanity of most people. She wondered if she would have been happier had she remained a "working girl" for that fat excuse of a man, Trenos. She chuckled at the idea. Hell would have been more pleasant than being that man's slave. Administrative hell was the one she chose...

Suddenly, a cold breeze infiltrated the room. There was a certain discomfort spreading from person to person, clients and courtesans alike. No one could figure the source of their uneasiness, yet it continued to invade their hearts. Indre ordered her waitresses to fill everyone's glass and sent her bouncer/assassin investigate the matter. The latter returned after a short while, escorting a hooded figure. "This... man.... wishes to speak to you, Madam", the bouncer announced while keeping a nervous hand over her concealed dagger. Indre nodded and promptly started to examine the mysterious figure. She had always prided herself in her ability to probe people and figure out their motive using her sharp, analytical mind. The air seemed darker around the man, almost as if his mere presence negated light itself. His eyes gleamed under his hood, returning her penetrating gaze. Yet....Indre felt something oddly familiar about him.

"How may I help you, sir?", she asked in a professional tone, the one she used to negotiate with difficult clients. The man scoffed : "Yes, yes you can, my dear Indre". His voice sounded like rusted metal grating against a hard surface. The lady frowned; she didn't quite appreciate his familiarity, even though it seemed almost... appropriate. "Do I know you?", she barked. "I see you haven't change at all... not after all these years. You must be of Our blood after all", he replied with a wry grin, taking no notice of her frustration. Indre surrepetitiously crossed her arms, giving her bodyguard the signal to stand ready to eliminate this rude visitor.

"Ah, where are my manners? I suppose you don't recognize me lin my present form..." , he said, slowly taking off his hood. Even with the strong self-control she had acquired over the years of tough negociation her facial expression immediately betrayed her shock.

Blood dripping from a knife. A knife she holds in her hands. A knife slowly cutting it's way through a fat man's innards. Trenos' body clumbsily fell on the floor, showing as much grace as had thoughout his life. Tears. She felt tears creeping their way to her neck, her exposed bosom. Tears of liberation, tears of guilt. Those were intertwined in her mind. A long awkward pause. She suddenly felt a pair of arms embracing her lovingly and a mouth kissing her hair. A whisper in her ears: "Everything will be fine. I'll take care of it. Let yourself go.". She tensed herself at his touch until she recognized his voice, his scent, his touch.

"Manôzir", she whispered, lost in thoughts. Mistaking her boss' expression for a signal to attack, the bouncer drew her dagger and positionned herself to stab the undesirable element's lungs. Before she could even approach him, the man quickly turned around to face her and, with a single intensive gaze, he drained all her life force, leaving her unconcious body on the ground.

Manôzir had always been Indre's strangest customer. He came to Trenos' establishment quite often and would almost always ask for her services yet he would never demand her to "seal the deal", so to speak. He would entertain her, give her a good time and never ask anything in return. Why was taking such an interest on her? The man was relatively rich, he could have gotten any woman if he wanted. At first she thought the young fool was in love with her, but this impression subsided as he also repeated the same routine with other girls. Was it pity? She loathed pity. She yearned to become independant and to not be anyone's slave. She didn't need an idiotic noble's pity! Love or pity, neither motive suited well with her... yet she continued to go out with him.

She became accustomed to these outings and came to see them as a well-earned relief. That same odd man had taken her defence that fateful night when Trenos confronted her, accusing her of the harlot's gravest sin: Love. Manôzir had physically intervened, but he was no match for the 300 pounds of muscle and fat that was Trenos. Without thinking, Indre had grabbed the nearest sharp object and terminated the life of the one who had made hers miserable. But Trenos' disappearance would not go unnoticed, she knew it. The fat man had a very large network and many "friends". She was a dead woman and she knew it. Yet... that noble kept clinging to her, promising security and absolution. She finally let herself go and accepted his confort.

Indre's stern expression soon returned. Before she could even open her mouth the man declared in an almost laughing manner: "Don't worry, I merely stunned her for a while. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your best bodyguard, now would I?". Indre squinted and asked: "No matter. Are you here on business or pleasure?". "Both", he replied. "Then follow me to my room", she ordered him. She turned her attentions to the clients and courtesans assembled around the scene. "Please return to your previous occupation. Everything is under control. The food is free for the next hour!". The mage and the lady entered a comfortable room, leaving the cheering crowd behind them.

"I thought you were...", Indre started to whisper as Zel closed the door. "Dead? Oh you shouldn't believe every rumour your "employees" tell you! No. That would be too simple, too easy.", the man replied cynically. "Rumours? Gilt... I mean the Grand Vizier... had declared you dead. Executed for killing your own...", she retorted. Zel let out a hateful snort "Wouldn't _he_ like that?". He sighed. An awkward silence followed. The mage took a musty piece of paper and threw it on her table in a blunt manner. "I want you to ask your girls about these people.". Indre let out an indignated groan. "Why would I do that? What do I owe you after all these years of absence?". Zel glared at her. "Do I really remind you how you came to be madame Indre? How I foiled the authorities and used every ounce of my influence to have the fat man's "friends" look the other way? You owe me and you know it! But I'm not heartless. I know of your money woes. Our church is very rich, I'm sure we can afford having outside informants. A thousand golds for every believable piece of information you may find. Isn't it fair?". Indre frowned and shouted "I don't need your pity! If you want monetary compensation for your past services...". "Oh, but you do need it. You always have. You had no qualms about accepting it in the past and I suggest that you stop having them now." His eyes softened for a moment. "It would be better for both of us if you accepted...".

Another awkward pause took place as they looked at each other. "Fifteen hundred per piece and a thousand more for the lost business you undoubtedly caused me tonight". The sorceror smiled. The same smile Trenos had while he was beating her, Indre noticed. Zel turned around, raised his hood and put his hand on the doorknob before saying: "Oh, and one last thing. Manôzir is dead. I am called Zelerdor Blackgarden now. It would be in your best interest to remember it in the future.". The man left the Brothel as silently and suddenly as he had entered it.

When she came to her senses, the bouncer quickly rose to her feet, ready to attack the necromancer only to find a near empty brothel. The sun had risen and the mage was long gone. She walked toward her mistress' room to beg her forgiveness for her incompetence. As she grabbed the doorknob a strange sound came to her ears. That sound petrified her as surely as the sorceror's gaze. It was the sound of Indre's crying. It hadn't been heard in over forty years. The bouncer shook her head and ran outside. One can only take so much nonesense in a day...

Lady Igraine

04-02-2007, 15:56

Sister Nella could hear the sound of the horse on the cobblestone in the courtyard below and was immediately alert, who would come at this late hour ? she wondered . Sister Nella quickly dressed to go greet her visitor, and ambled down the dark stair to the entrance. Nella opened the door a small bit and glanced at the person before her, a hooded woman with a small bundle, how odd. Sister Nella opened the door and assumed her mantle of pride and arrogance
" Why do you disturb Melkor's house at this late hour ? " she sneered.
The woman removed her hood to reveal her black hair, pale skin, and ice blue eyes, it was Igraine. Nella quickly wondered if she was in danger, had she come for revenge ? Nella thought she had always been kind to Igraine, beating her less than the others and giving her the odd extra apple, perhaps she had not been kind enough.
"Igraine" she stammered, her arrogance quickly reduced to friendliness, " Why have you come ? "
Igraine stepped into the small Abby with familiarity and confidence, she looked about recalling a time long ago, I time before she knew the hard ways of the world, it had not been so bad. Her parents had sent her at the age of 8, she had remained until 20 working her way past jealous priests , they had made her strong here. She unwrapped the bundle to reveal the small babe with black hair and soft blue eyes, she was clearly newborn and premature.
" I have a favor to ask Nella " looking down at the old woman whom she had hated and loved. " I need someone I can trust. I need you to care for this child. "
Nella could sense the seriousness of the matter, she had heard the rumors Igraine was pregnant, the child must be hers, but why the secrecy ?
" And why would I do that ? " said Nella, sensing an advantage, a chance for profit. " I am a busy woman you know Igraine. "
Igraine regarded the woman, her face gradually growing colder and harder, her eyes captured Nellas gaze , she was quickly unsettled for Nella could see the power and hatred that fueled this woman.
"Forget I asked " she stammered. " We are pleased to help a fellow member of the church.
"Good, I would have been most disappointed. " she said, her threat not so unveiled.
"You will be well payed, and I shall see to the upkeep of this place, it has become quite run down. " The Abby was hundreds of years old and had seen many masters.
"You are not to spoil the child, but no harm is to come to her either, she is to be a weapon of Melkor. " Igraine handed the woman a small gem bag. " This will more than cover your needs, I shall send the same amount every year until the child is 10. "
Nella took the bag and opened it, sapphire and diamonds, this task must come with danger she thought.
" Send me regular word on her progress, see that she is strong, and tell no one where this child came from. " she commanded. " Any questions ? "
Nella considered refusing the task, what would the price be ? Her Abby had not been pressured by the Temple in Umbar as many of the others had, her Independence had not yet been threatened, now she knew why, if she refused she would not be here much longer, she sighed.
" What is the girl to be called ? " Nella asked, resigned to her fate, the gains would be welcome, perhaps this was a blessing ?
" Isolde" Igraine said. She replaced her hood and began to move toward the door, she stole one last glance at her child "treat her as if she were Melkor's own." she walked through the door back into the courtyard.
Nella took the child in her arms and walked to the door to watch Igraine, she had changed alot, Nella smiled with pride, she had done well, perhaps too well. Nella could see Igraine mount her white steed and ride out of the courtyard, she felt relieved, as if a storm had just past. She regarded the child, she looked into the small face that had an odd expression, was that contempt ? Nella shook her head and headed for the stairs, she would need a nursemaid in the morning. " We will make you big and strong Isolde, Old Nella will take good care of you. " the child was unconcerned.
Igraine rode back to Umbar regretting the separation but knowing it was necessary, the child was not safe there, and none could know she lived, certainly not Zelerdor, or the Vizier. Her "miscarriage" had been necessary to give her time, Isolde would need at least 30 years before she was strong enough to claim her inheritance, and until then Igraine was well placed to see to her future.

Lady Igraine

16-02-2007, 01:38

To his Highness the Grand Vizier of Umbar,
My Lord, a tremendous opporunity has recently presented itself which will enable us to further extend the influence of our great nation. I and members of the Church were recently in Laketown to investigate rumours of willd magic causing strange activity in that region. While chatting with a guard at the gate I learned that an attempt was being made to forge a formal alliance between the men of Laketown, the Wood Elves and perhaps even the Dwarves in Erebor. The nature of this alliance is to further common defense, a subject of some interest. This alliance however is by no means complete and is even now part of an on going negotiation, as I understand it. Seeing the opportunity I presented myself to the King as an emissary of Umbar, offering him your best wishes and friendship. As a sign of your friendship, I offered to solve the problem of this unstable magic, something we had intended to look into anyway. Brand was both pleased and impressed, so much so that I have been given a pass for that gate that will allow us to escape scrutiny when entering the town, allowing me to use my Bloodfangs for this task. I intend to attempt this undertaking when I have your consent to do so in your name, I made it clear we were very much against thier alliance and it may have bearing on the future relationship of our cities. The king seemed mindful of this fact and I suspect open to strengthening our relations with them. If you give your consent your Highness, I wll begin building this bridge between our nations. Also, as I understand it, a large part of the tension between these men and the Wood Elves stems from the high price of trade with said elves. I suggest we begin trade to cover all things the elves have traditionally provided them perhaps even at a small loss to ourselves, this will show the King that we are the better friends and that the elves only seek to use them for thier own interests. I think an opportunity for military gains could very well present itself, and we may wish to consider sending troops to "aid" the Lakemen. We could likely build a fort and begin a build up with thier full cooperation, perhaps even thier blessing. this could result in thier eventual place as a vassal state to our Great Umbar, or perhaps even a full out conquest, though as willing allies they would be more useful and less trouble. I have sent this letter by courier with hopes of a timely response that we may act quickly, I wait near laketown with my forces awaiting your commands. Please forgive my presumption but the situation required immediate action and my only goal was to extend your greatness.
Your Loyal Subject
Igraine

Lady Igraine

16-02-2007, 01:39

My Dear Mistress,
I have, as you requested, begun to establish myself in Tharbad. It has been a tedious task but it has begun to show fruit. I have met many interesting individuals that serve our many enemies and in most cases have begun to build useful ties, I will leave it to you and the Council to set the priority.
The one that will no doubt interest you the most is a Knight of Gondor by name of Gearfast. I have learned much of the sorry state of the Knights through him in a short time. To begin, they continue to conceal thier nature when in Tharbad, clearly tension between the two has continued as we had hoped. The Knighthood it seems is dispersed about Arda seeking to make allies and earn favour with other kingdoms,though thier numbers are now greatly reduced. This Gearfast is responsible for a shipment of Mithril reaching Minas Tirith for the purpose of making greater armour for thier troops, he must be punished for this. I have taken the steps to have him captured that you might question him in person.
The next is a Dunedain named Lance. This one has ties to many elves it seems and through him I have had the disgusting company of a few of the pointy eared devils. Lance is deeply opposed to our cause but is simple enough to be useful. He knows me as Anna the smith, my new identity in Tharbad. To earn his trust I have helped him in a few minor task though some revealed some disturbing facts. I have set Lance apon the task of finding the secret behind the artifact we found in Rohan. He has used his influence to consult Elrond himself, but has yet to be able to learn anything beyond that it is a key of some sort. He is now in Gondor seeking further insight. this one has been focused and resourceful and has made a perfect pawn. I would almost consider drawing him to us but he has not responded to my romantic efforts and is too closely bound to the Elves to be swayed I believe. I will continue to use him until he suspects something.
While travelling with Lance I have learned that a spear of some minor power has been brought from Moria to aid the Rohirm cause. I have examined this weapon and feel it is of little concern beyond its symbolic value, which we cannot underestimate.It illistrates that the Dwarves and Men had long ago been friends, an unwelcome reminder. This weapon will prove formidable against Orcs but is of no concern to our Elite Umbarian forces. The wielder of this weapon is a simple Yavanite human called Beo. I believe he suffers from brain damage of some sort and could be easily manipulated if needed.
A second fact which provides more questions than answers is that I believe the elves have some sort of secret Order. I had the opportunity to examine the property of two of the wretches while they were unconcious, One, a pretty male named Glorfin, a Valar worshiper of some sort, and an annoying female called Elenuiel, another Yavanite. Both shared exact broaches with the same design though they are of different tribes and clearly had no romantic ties. The Broaches seem to give the wearer clearer sight into the nature of artifacts, I am certain they were made by a smith of uncommon skill, and enchanted by nothing less than a Wizard. Work of this quality would be unatainable for us even if Khor Zelerdor and myself devoted the rest of our lives to it. I know little of the Order, if that is in fact what it symbolizes, but I have enclosed the pattern on the broach that we may watch for others with like items, I believe that is all we can do for now, I dare not ask Lance of it, for they would no doubt reject his enquiries and seek to find the source of his interest, it may well be something as trivial as a poetry club or it may be far more sinister, though both clearly wished them to be concealed, so I will suspect the latter.
Another person of note is a potential operative, her name is Krystell. She is clearly a person of the streets, skilled in both stealth and clever tactics, the very sort we need. She has shown an eagerness to work though to date her motive seems to be gold. She is quite young but has a sickeningly sweet demeanor which would no doubt disarm most men. She seems to lack discretion but is a quick learner. It will take some time to puzzle this one out as she hides her true thoughts behind a cheerful , niave demeanor. She has however shown me results, I sent her to dispatch the fools in Chetwood that you had steal the harp, she did so without hesitation and enthusiam even uncovering some evidence against the man Ferney in Bree. I will send this to you to do as you wish, Ferney has been useful to date but it is always good to have leverage. At present I have her following some people more as a test than anything, if she is successful, I shall begin to lay the groundwork for her to come under Moia's direction, I suspect they will work well together, and she would contrast nicely with Moia's hostile exterior.
At this point I have little else to add beyond a disturbung trend I have seen. These Yavanites seem to be growing in number , I have had the misfortune of meeting 3 in less than a month, all with gifts from that accursed Valar. I do not know what is behind this, but I am concerned that perhaps Yavanna has taken a greater interest in the affairs of Arda, something that does not bode well.
Enclosed is my quarterly donation of 5000 Umbarian Eagles, and the Valuable Harp. I would offer more but most of my funds are now tied up in the inventory my cover requires, if more is required I can free up funds when needed.
Your Loyal Servant
Illyanna

Nightspell

16-02-2007, 16:12

Finding herself in Dol Guldar Moia is overcome with an uncontrolable compulsion to Kill. Though she is able to restrain herself from killing thoes within Dol Guldars walls, upon leaving she stumbles upon an outpost of elves. Without warning or provocation she attacks, slautering them with ease. Her bloodlust in full heat she seems unable to stop herself from killing everything in sight. Continuing through the Mirkwood she happens upon several more encampments of elves, again with the same results. A complete massicure. As she continues to wander into Illithen she is again attacking unsuspecting elves. Though they prove to be of much greater skill they are still no match for Moia's bloodlust. She cuts them down. An elf almost dead is stumbled upon by a companion who went into the woods to scout out the surrounding area. He begs the other elf to tell him what happened or who did this. The dieing elf could only point twords Gondor and gurgle "A blade of death".... His eyes glazed over and he died. News of the slaughter has traveled. And though it does not concern them over greatly a resounding yet disturbing fact has crept into the minds of others within the family of Melkores Chosen...... Moia has not been seen in quite some time, and the last time she was seen, it was leaving Dol Guldar in the direction of Illithen. By the reports of the orcs who saw her leave they could say ony this, " I's dared not goes near dat one, she'd had da look a killen in her eye". When asked to elaborate on this they only said that her eyes nearly glowed red, as almost if her eyes were so blood shot the entire whites of her eyes could no longer be seen.

Nightspell

21-02-2007, 20:47

While meandering through the Mirkwood, a lone orc from Dol Guldar venturing out to invistigate the area and to collect suplies suddenly heard the clang of swords clashing. He crept closer, carefully, to see who was battling He was awed to see a woman in black armor, one he had seen many times before in the presents of powerful allies, fighting another, shorter, fighter. He thought to aid the one in black when the fight suddenly ended. The woman in black defeated. He kept his hiding place for he knew that elfs occupied the area and fearing a confrontation with them and this obviously powerful fighter, which he completely suspected to be an elf. After the fighter gathered up the woman in black, and he noted that she was still alive, left. He moved away from his hiding place and made his way back to Dol Guldar to make a report of his findings. He thought to himself he would be rewarded well for this.

Lady Igraine

24-02-2007, 06:30

Igraine walked with torch in hand, down the narrow, damp stairway in a procession of 12 others, all dressed alike in black hooded robes. The sound of a drum echoed up the passage as the thick smell of incense slowly overwhelmed her senses. They entered the chamber and the heat from fires and human bodies filled her as it all came into view. The ancient hall was packed with patrons, all scantily dressed in expensive garments , the like of which had not been seen in the place that was now Umbar in hundreds of years. This seemed quite right to her, though the scene was of another time. The crowd stood watching , captivated by the activity at the alter, the half naked acolytes danced a lustful story, of need, passion, power and fear. The energy could be felt to rise as the intensity increased, then came the sacrifice, a naked elf maid, age unknown, and unimportant, The Lord of the Night would be fed and reward his faithful flock. The Elf shrieked in terror at the sight before her, knowing her fate. Dragged while struggling with every last bit of strength, a useless waste of her final moments, she was thrown on to the alter and tied with red silk chords. The drums grew louder, the dance more frantic, sex acts began erupt throughout the chamber as the High Priest produced the knife that had seen this picture for almost an age. The shouts, moans, screams and laughter all erupted in a blend of chaotic noise, the knife came down with lightning speed.
Igraine woke covered in sweat, again the dream. She sat up and rang a bell and began wiping the sweat from her forehead, for five nights now she had had this vision, always the same. The adept arrived quickly
"Yes Mistress ?" the young woman asked .
" Water with lemon, now ! " Igraine bellowed.
"Yes Mistress. " She bowed and made quickly for the kitchen, not wishing to endure the wrath of her angry patron.
Igraine dressed knowing full well she would not sleep any more that night, just as she hadn't the last five. She examined herself, pleased her figure had returned, though the dark circles that haunted her eyes were getting...unattractive. No matter, seldom did men see the woman anymore . The girl returned and poured the water from an elegant pitcher, squeezing the cut lemon by hand into the glass.
"Is there anything else Mistress" the girls timid voice asked.
"No dear, return to your duties." Igraine replied in an almost affectionate voice.
The girl was from a good family, to abuse her would be to squander a resource. Igraine hated waste. No matter, she had work she could do. Igraine lit a candle and began the walk to her study, wondering how her scattered flock was doing. She had not heard from Moia in some time, and this concerned her. Moia was carefree, but still very devoted,and quickly becoming one of Igraine's favorites. Moia had the freedom to act with her impulses, Igraine hadn't had that luxury in some time, but such was her fate, a small price.
She set the candle on her desk and looked at the stack of letters, Illyanna, Aine, Saibeth, all required replies, all were valued. She took out the pen and began to ponder her letter to Aine, the poor child was unhappy with Master Silversword, he liked books more than her affections, could he really be Berevals grandson ? Igraine tried to set her self interest aside to form her reply, her relationship with the young priestess one of the few in her life that was not calculated. The girl naturally looked up to a High Priestess of her chosen Lord Melkor, Igraine would not abuse this position of trust, though it tempted her greatly.
"Dear Aine " she began. " I regret that I have not been to Tharbad in some time, but many pressing matters detain me. " should she invite her to visit ? It would be best if she was not in Tharbad when Illyanna's plan was to be completed.
The temperature dropped, a whisper filled the room. Igraine looked as the candle swayed, the window was closed ? She set the quill down and stood up, on guard, looking everywhere, she was not alone. Was that the faint sound of drums she heard ?
She then felt the presence, it had passed her defenses, impossible ! A greenish mist began to slowly rise in the room. Instinctively she began prayers of protection, no force would harm her in Melkor's Hall, in her home. The mist gathered and began to take shape, was it a man ? A spirit ? Slowly the shape took form, that of a man, that of the priest that had held the knife in her dreams.
" Igraine " it whispered.
" What is the meaning of this ? Who are you ? " her outrage and lack of fear quite apparent, the spirit was not to be intimidated.
" I am in my time what your are in yours " it replied.
Her eyes narrowed, how could it be here, few forces could exceed her powers, was this some trick of Elrond ? he should not know who she is ?
As if reading her thoughts the spirit whispered. " Your wards are formed to keep thing out oh Mistress of the Shrine, but I come from within. "
Her mind raced, why would an ancient priest come back to speak with her now, it could not mean her harm, she relaxed. Igraine sat back down in her chair and took a sip of water, it clearly had a message, and she would gladly listen. They spoke for the remainder of the night, the undead priest had flourished in a different time, when Melkor was not yet know by his true name. The place that was now Umbar had a rich history, changing hands many times over the years, chiefs, kings and finally Viziers, and yet the spot where the shrine was had always been sacred. Now many years later the great temple Igraine had seen in her dreams lay buried beneath her very shrine, but the activity above, the blood and suffering , had resonated below, and awakened the old priest from an ancient slumber. The priest showed her an opening, an ancient door that had exposed itself, right next to her study, and with it came key. The priest wanted nothing more than to see the old glory of his former hall restored, for blood to be spilled again, for cries of pain to echo in its halls. Igraine promised she would honor this great heritage, and hoped to unlock secrets long lost. But first , an suitable offering must be found, for the temple would have to be consecrated anew. Hmm, would her Gondorian prisoners be enough ? No , she must have some elves......

// OOC Special thanks to Olorin for the amazing changes to the Shrine and Umbar, we promise they wont go to waste, and thank you to the all staff for the many types of help, support and encouragement we have been getting.

Cindi Angelheart

25-02-2007, 18:16

My Mistress,
I send this letter in the hands of the young Harad woman named Krystell. She has for some months now been working for me in a variety of tasks, playing a vital role in the Tharbad operation now well underway. I have found her resourceful, efficient and eager to please and have no doubt you might make something profound of her. She has just recently been released from custody in Rivendell, a victim of Moia's rash violent impulses, but this I must explain. From what I have gathered, Moia and Krystell were together in the region of that wretched Valley for which we have yet to find a solution. It would seem they encountered a one man patrol and Moia's nature took over, she killed the pointy eared devil. While this is a cause for some celebration, it has set about a chain of events that moved very quickly, the result being the capture of Moia, Krystell and Kix, a woman who I have used in the past, I will tell you more of Kix later.
Krystell being in a helpless position revealed my name, and some tasks that she had done for me, including the matter in the Shire, though she says they no very little of that. At first I was upset that she had compromised me, but upon reflection can see that she in fact did quite well for us. No matter that the Elves know my name, they are powerless to act in Tharbad and the girl did provide some rare insight into the Valley which has thus far eluded us.
We know now that Elrond is still present in the Valley, though that is of little surprise. We know he has a female jailer named Marlynna who is reportedly exceedingly cruel, Krystell would much like revenge on this one. Also, an Elf named Elenuail was instrumental in the capture of Kix and Krystell and appears to be their fugitive hunter, another we will have to see to when the time is right, I have met this harlot and am certain she would be of little challenge to any of our warriors. I believe the girl has much more information buried within her , but I did not wish to overwhelm her after her terrible ordeal.
She has seen some of the Valley and been in Elrond's very presence and now is driven for revenge, a quality you know well how to harness.
I would like to add the girl went through great length to avoid being followed before coming to me to inform me of what has happened, were it not for her diligence she might well have fled, fearing my wrath, but she did not. We would not know of Moia's unpleasant fate and I have rewarded her well for her work. It is with that in mind that I send her to you with recommendation to join our number, I have told her something of our Order and she seems drawn to us like a moth to flame, I shall leave the rest to your judgment.
The matter of Kix is far more complex, I employed her to take something to Ferney some time ago, she seemed to have qualms about the act and concerns that harm would come of it, I altered her memory that she would not recall and can only hope that this is not undone by the devils of the Valley. That Kix was also captured seems strange to me, I think she should be captured for further questioning, she may well have played a larger roll than we know.
Also, the simpleton Ranger Lance that I have been using these last few months now knows that I am no common smith, and will likely seek revenge of some sort for being used as a pawn, it is no matter, he has been kept away from Tharbad long enough for me to get a great deal of my work done, soon things will start. I do regret that I did not get the time to use him against the Dunedain but perhaps in another time we can see to that.
Lastly, I have informed our friends in Tharbad to spend some time away from the city, I have given your invitation to Aine and she will be in Umbar shortly, I hope to complete the operation by the next full moon . I have seen that adequate protections will ensure I do not share the same fate as the fool that developed this process, it amazes me he could stumble on such a thing in the first place, but we should thank our good fortune.
On a more personal note, the information you have provided me on Moia has surprised me greatly. I must confess I have very mixed feelings on the matter, but it is a small matter to have my father delivered to Moia, if we see her again. He should pay for betraying my mother and is now dead to me.
I will await your direction on what to do about Moia, we cannot leave her in the hands of Elrond for she holds far more information than Krystell did, and I would not see you compromised.
Your Loyal Servant
Illyanna

Lady Igraine

13-04-2007, 06:36

Riders go out all over Arda in search of the Chosen, a letter given to each.

" The Initiate known as Krystell is Excommunicated until further notice. She is to lose all privileges and rights , if any encounter her, demand her key and that she report to Umbar in earnest. She is not to be treated harshly, nor with kindness. I also invite you all to Umbar that we may gather and discuss our future, for Gondor has had it too easy and those wretched elves must pay. "

Your Beloved High Priestess
Igraine

OOC, we are hoping to gather this Sunday early afternoon EST and early evening to our friends in the UK. All members are encouraged to come, prospective new members are invited to visit the church.

Cindi Angelheart

17-04-2007, 03:53

My Mistress,
Good news, By chance on my way to Isenguard just a few short days ago I encountered that wretched Ranger Lance, I defeated him in battle and tortured him but he would yield nothing of value. He is now digesting in the stomach of the Drake that lingers in the Misty Mountains, I calculate it will take 30 days for him to digest fully. Now that he has been removed, we may now focus on the elves that tortured my sister Moia. I hope this news pleases you.
Your Servant
Illyanna
Blade of Umbar

Nolëtáro

18-04-2007, 20:46

*tightly sealed with what appears to be human flesh, a letter is delivered to the Shrine in Umbar...*

Lady Igraine,

It has been some time since we have met. I have retreated to a small, desolate hovel, where I prepare myself to welcome the blessing of the Lord of the Dead Moon. I wish to meet you once more... for my condition has advanced slightly, and I wish to bring infection and suffering to the heathens of the West.

Signed;

Ynzakhêr

Lady Igraine

19-04-2007, 13:29

Ynzakhêr,
It has been some time since I have had word from you, and truth be known I had given you up for dead. It pleases me to hear that you are well and know that you are always welcome to visit the Temple. I am anxious to hear what mischief you have been up to, and would much like to know of your progress. I shall leave word with the Caretaker to grant you immediate audience when you arrive, if I am not present due to other business my assistant , the Priestess Aine will receive you, you may speak with her with all confidence. Many things are underway right now, an exciting new era has begun, and your skills would be of much value.
May Melkor shroud your path

Igraine

Lady Igraine

27-04-2007, 05:47

Due to the flood of those that have recently heard Melkor's call it is my intention that there be a gathering of our potential members and operatives. In that spirit I call that they come to the Shrine that they may meet and perhaps be tested. I await your arrivals with anticipation.

Igraine

//OOC this sunday 4pm GMT lvls 8-13 to meet in Umbar at the Shrine

Dakota Strider

09-05-2007, 16:40

High Priestess Igraine,

I would not presume to correspond with you in this method, if I had not uncovered something that is potentially of great importance. I was back in the city of Tharbad, keeping up my cover of being an entertainer at the Greyflood Inn. I arrived the night before I was scheduled to appear, and was greeting the regulars there who have come to know and trust me. It was then I saw Moia speaking with a young woman warrior name Dacia, who I have been using as a resource to help me complete some of my machinations I have been involved in this region. Dacia recognized me of course, and called me over.

I will not go into all the details of what Moia was dealing with in regards to Dacia, but as I have been in contact with the swordswoman for sometime, it would have seemed very suspicious to her if I had not joined her, and acted in the way she had always known me to be. I have a feeling this may have offended the Captain, but I feel it was vital for me to keep up appearances in this most strategic location. I will accept whatever penalty you deem necessary, however I hope my results will grant me some leniancy.

During the conversation that ensued, an elven lady, of obvious importance walked into the tavern. It was obvious she was looking for something or someone. Since it is rare such an elf arrives in Tharbad, let alone show up in the Greyflood, my curiousity was aroused, and I felt there was an opportunity to learn something important about our enemy. So, with the skills you so astutely recognized in myself, I went about setting the elf at ease, and started a conversation with her.

I learned her name is Validriel of the cursed elven stronghold known as Loth Lorien or the so called Goldenwood. She was in search of a hobbit named Bixby, who had information about a sword of apparent great power, that had this elf very concerned. I was able to set the elf at ease, by my speaking in the tongue of her people, and she divulged the markings on this weapon, that would enable it to be recognized. I cannot say that I noted any guile in this elf woman, but I would not presume to underestimate the enemy. If the symbols she drew for me are true, they could lead us to discovering this weapon, and depriving the elves of it. The symbols she showed me are (+)(x)(x)(+). I must say, they do strike me as being accurate, but in this place I am in now, I cannot do indepth research to ascertain exactly who they would lead to. She mentioned that these marks are similar to one found on a similar weapon that she seemed to be in possession of.

I of course, will expend all time I have available to me, to uncover this weapon, if it truly exists. As I said before, I could not detect any deception in this elf, but I would not put it past one of those devils.

Speaking of deception, Moia appeared very agitated by the appearance of this elf, and covered her head, and refused to speak. She would not speak of why later, nor did I feel it was my place to question her. However, for some reason, she felt it needed to give Dacia her true name, and Dacia spoke that name outloud in front of the elf several times. It seemed to me, that the elf did take some small interest in this, but she did not make an issue of it.

I am sure Moia had a good reason for telling this Tharbad commoner her name, as well as implying that both myself and the Blade Orion worked for her. I was in no position to deny it, but it now puts me in the uncomfortable position of trying to explain myself to someone who has proven to be a valuable tool, and who I had cultivated some trust with. I am sure that I can smooth this over, but it is my sincerest hope, that my cover is not blown needlessly in this area. I have shown with my ability to learn secrets from a high-ranking elf, there is much good to our cause I can do in these parts. But, I will leave that to your esteemed wisdom, of course. I am but your humble servant.

I shall keep you informed of any developments that I deem are of importance. In the meantime, I shall follow your directives and those you have placed above me. And of course, I shall follow my own initiative to learn whatever may aid us in vexing our enemy.

Your obediant servant,

Herald Ardamir

Lady Igraine

11-05-2007, 09:54

(long overdue) Revised Melkor's Chosen Members list

High Priestess

Igraine

Council of the Chosen

Kor Zelerdor-High Sorcerer

Kora Moia- Champion-Tharbad Lt.

Captain Irthan- Bloodfang Commander-Misty Mountain Lt.

Saibeth- suspended

Blades of Umbar

Orion-Bree Lt
Illyanna-Scribe-Laketown Lt.

Initiates

Aine-High Initiate-Priestess of Melkor
Ardimir-Herald
Raba
Ynzakhêr

Bloodfangs

Horse-Sgt Major-First Orc-Chief Jailer
Gurg
Morgie
Hrowlf
Urruz-Sum

Affiliates

Inzil

Agents

Shaheen
Kang

Johanna

19-05-2007, 11:08

The moisture in the air made her body damp with sweat, it was always like that after a rain shower and actually the heat and water didn’t bother her at all, she enjoyed it. She walked slowly. A merchant walked passed her with two young fair skinned slaves carrying heavy loads of fruit and vegetables, there gaze never left the stone they walked on.

She made the turns and passageways to the viziers’s court. A male guard open the door and bowed slightly when she passed, like they always did, and as always she didn’t care about it.
The giggle from some of the girls reached her and her eye twitched nervously at the sound. She had always hated the stupid girls within the halls, all there lies and untrustworthy rumours, it made her sick.

She continued with a little more haste in her steps so they wouldn’t use the moment to share some of the untruthfully hearsays. She had luck non of them even notice her entering.

Finaly entering the shrine a hint of a smile reached her face, the coolness of the air greeted her as home. The walk turned into something like a dance as she headed to the Antechamber. The place alone filled her with self content. Her eye twitched as she watched the big chair in the middle of the room, and she came to a stop. Slowly she walked to it and then made a turn around it letting her hand stroke the wood and its ornaments.

Something breathed down her neck and the shiver spread through her body like a cold rivulet of water. She only smiled.

‘I wish you where here’ she spoke out in the air, knowing she was not alone.

Her eye twitched again and she headed to the halls above.

Many repports had to be made, and specially about the annoying herald.

Lady Igraine

21-05-2007, 14:12

An encased letter is delivered to Aine from the hand of the Shrine Caretaker.

Aine,
I regret that my duties in Mordor have kept me away from Umbar far longer than I should like, but when the Mouth of Sauron speaks ones name it is best to listen. It is my hope that in due time you shall also know this honor and burden , however for now I would have you concerned with more earthly matters. Please write me a brief report on the Initiates under your charge, as well as your own activities since I have been gone. See that the Caretaker is given it sealed with with the Temple stamp after Moia has been given time to read it. This is a private matter and you will discuss it with none other than my Champion. As you are aware at the present time there is a vacant seat on the Council of the Chosen, I would know your thoughts on potential candidates, do not exclude yourself if you think your are worthy. It is my intention to fill this spot in the coming months. I trust that your studies continue to progress and that you have grown closer to Melkor in the months since you have come to Umbar and that your ties to Tharbad have been resolved, one way or another. I shall await your reply my child, but know you are loved and favoured by the Lord of Darkness and his High Priestess.

Igraine

Lady Igraine

26-05-2007, 10:04

Nella felt panic when she heard the scream, not again, Isolde ! She took her time walking from her study to the yard wondering who the girl was tormenting now, young Jarad no doubt. The courtyard looked far better now that the walls had been finished, the new garden and lush trees that had been planted were the final steps in restoring the ancient abby's dignity. Nella stepped out into what was now a familiar scene, Isolde sitting atop the frustrated young boy named Jarad, the son of the local lord.
" Say your sorry ! " shouted the angelic five year old girl whos big blue eyes were almost hidden by her dark black hair.
" I will not ! " Jarad said defiantly, he was determined she should learn to treat him with respect, like everyone else in the small town did, it puzzled him she seemed to think she was better than him.
She slapped him just before Nella scooped up the two, lifting both violently by the arm and shaking them .
" Isolde ! That is not how a young lady is to act ! " Nella said in a stern voice, she gave them both a shake and then dropped them on the cobblestones.
" He said my Dolly was ratty looking ! " the young girl said with a deeply serious expression.
" She said Papa was a minor landholder ! " young Jarad pleaded hating and loving her at the same time. They were the same age, he slightly older but unable to gain advantage from his slight size advantage. They had known each other most of their short lives of 5 years. Jarad's father owned the estate beside the abby, and much of the surrounding lands.
Nella looked between the two with a faint smile, were they normal children she would beat them. Sadly the parents of the two more or less controlled her world, but she did like children. She sighed.
" Jarad, you will go and help clean the stables. " the young boys attractive face turning to disappointment. He groaned inwardly, not only did his afternoon looked ruined, but now he would be parted from her, maybe he could steal her doll ? If he got the chance , then he would have the upperhand.
"Do not looks so pleased young miss, you will sweep the chappel." Nella said.
"At least I will not smell like horse poop ! " Isolde said trying to make the best of it.
" Thats enough from both of you, now run along ! "
Later that night as Nella brushed Isolde's hair before bed, the girl was full of questions.
"Nella, can I have a dagger ? " Isolde inquired as if asking for a dress.
"No, you cannot kill Jared. " Nella said smiling inwardly at the frown on Isoldes face.
" But he is mean to me ! " she said convinced it was a reasonable request.
" And you are mean to him, arent you ? " Nella asked.
"Only when he pulls my hair and things. " Isolde answered believing it.
" You did kill his dog dear. " Nella said, enjoying the soothing ritual of brushing her hair, the girl would be a beauty, making her mother look common.
Isolde considered this .
" He did not like that very much did he ? " she said without remorse.
" No dear, he didnt " Nella answered putting the silver brush down on the dresser.
" When will I see my Mother Nella ? " Isolde asked, something she asked weekly.
"When she send for you dear. " Nella answered as she had countless other times.
" When will I see Aunty Inzil or Kora Moia again ? " Isolde asked, even at her age she could tell they were special people.
" I don't know dear, I would think within the year " Nella replied picking her up and setting her into bed. She had enjoyed the former meeting far more than the latter.
"Are they really my aunts Nella ? " Isolde asked for the first time.
" That would depend on who your father is dear. " Nella replied considering the same thing herself. " Kora Moia isnt, she is a good friend of your mothers. Inzil ? For her to be your aunt your father would have to be..." she shuddered.
" Who Nella ? Who ? " Isolde asked, never having gotten this close before.
" Kor Zelerdor ." Nella said with dread. " A very powerful Sorcerer . " Nella had never met the man, but knew enough that she did not wish to.
"Is he my father Nella ? " she asked thinking such a magical father would be delightful.
" I do not know dear, there are rumours.... " Nella said knowing she had said too much.
"Please tell me Nella ! " she demanded.
Nella considered her answer, she didnt know for herself, it would be best not to mislead her.
She tucked Isolde in and said " I am sure your father is someone very powerful dear, it may be why you are here, no more can I tell you. " Nella took a ceremonial dagger out from under her robes, its scabbard covered in gems of small value. Nella recently had received a mithril one, the case covered with diamonds and done in fine gold, a gift from Igraine.
" Here my dear, this is a sacrificial dagger , blessed for Melkor. " she handed it to her hoping to change the subject.
Isolde's eyes opened wide, her face filled with delight and wonder. She took the dagger studying it close, she frowned.
" What is the matter dear ? " Nella asked puzzled.
" The stones are cheap " she said matter of factly as she slipped off to sleep hugging the dagger, with thoughts of giving Dolly's hair an extention with some help from Jarad.

Dakota Strider

29-05-2007, 05:09

addressed to High Priestess Igraine

Your Grace,
I am pleased to report that I am making progress in tracking down the location of this blade I had first brought to your attention. Trying to find a single hobbit in this region is not a simple task, but I have persisted in my search and it has recently bore fruit. The hobbit in question, I have learned is a patroller of the Shire borders,travelling between places such as North Moor and Tighfield. This Bixby seems to be a collector of blades, so I believe I shall be able to entice him out of the wilderness, by taking a collection of my own blades into the area he is known to roam, and let it be known in the Shire I am trading in rare swords.

I also would like to let you know, that besides my pursuit of this matter, I have along with Priestess Aine, been observing the activities of the Wizard Saruman. We have gained his trust by volunteering to oversee some of his pursuits which we have accomplished with little effort. However, besides providing to be a minor nuisance to our enemy, I doubt that Saruman will ever live up to his own delusions of grandeur. But, surprisingly, he does have a following of more then just the orcs he lords over. Priestess Aine and I have witnessed several that were willing to lick his boots. Some of these had some skill, but they are unbelievers of the True God. I shall await your word, on how you wish for us to deal with them.

Your loyal servant
Herald Ardamir

Lady Igraine

30-05-2007, 14:45

The following letter is delivered to all Melkor's Chosen members when they next encounter the Caretaker of the Shrine.

My Children,
At the end of the next month it is my intention that one Initiate be promoted to the rank of Blade. At present, 3 of the 4 present Initiates have shown sufficient devotion to be considered for such an honor, the exception being Ynzakhêr who's activities are unknown to us (see members list if needed). Only those put forward by a full member will be considered by the Council so I advise all members to watch for them, and all Initiates to be noticed. We are looking for leadership, initiative, and devotion. If none posses these qualities in sufficient strength we shall find others that do. Initiates, do what you must to distinguish yourselves at this time.

On an unrelated matter, the time for annual tithes has come, Khor Moia will be collecting them, please give generously.

Your Beloved High Priestess

Igraine

Johanna

01-06-2007, 14:03

The pain in her temple left it self a reminder of things from the past, her eye twitched and she closed both for a moment. Her hand touched the surface of the pond in Isengard. The water tickled it like a feather but the cold stung like needles. She heard the rasp of stone moving under a foot and she knew who it was even before he announced his presence. She waited and he greeted her.

[Act surprised Aine]

She turned.

“Oh, its you...”

She watched him for a moment. He talked and she answered

[Think]
A sting in her temple made her eye twitch and she turned her face to wards the tower in Isengard.

[there is only one lord]
“There is only one lord Ardamir” the words left her mouth.

He looked at her for a moment before the question came.
“What is it you long for Aine?”

[There is only one lord Aine, only one…]
“Power”
[Good answer girl]

Ardamir said her thoughts,
“Good answer”

Here eye twitched.

Dakota Strider

04-06-2007, 13:58

The following entry is made in Ardamir's private journal and is encrypted in a complex code

She wants me to prove I am trustworthy. Something not so easily given, as to do that means I open myself to having to trust her in turn. And why do I actually care if this particular priestess trusts me, instead of just telling her what she wishes to hear? What draws me to this woman? I fear its more then the chance to share in the power, the two of us could obtain working together. Although, the obvious complementing of each other's blessings that the True Lord grants us cannot be ignored. But, the question remains, if I do what is needed to gain her trust, can I trust her in return? Giving up the trysts with different women, would be a drastic change in lifestyle, but would it really be a sacrifice? To be honest, the challenge has long been gone. The excitement of being around this woman, I have a hard time to explain, but there is no questioning it is more then just the challenge she presents. Is it the mystery that surrounds her? It seems obvious she is dealing with some past pain, and strangely, I have found myself concerned for her well-being. I feel as if part of me wants to get closer to her, and learn more. Another part warns me to stay away, before she can cause me harm. Yet, it seems as time goes on, I find more reasons to ignore this voice. Time will tell whether I regret that or not.

Johanna

11-06-2007, 17:47

The song remained in her head, the song that Rab sang that day, in the background of her head it remained as a humming whisper. She remembered it well, every little detail in the flow of notes, like water. Every word. Words she heard when she was a little girl.

“The battle that with horror grim,
Had madly ravaged life and limb”

She looked around to see if Moia was coming. And adjusted herself to a better position in the saddle. The words echoed in her head.

“Had scupper drenched with human gore
And widowed many a wife was o'er”

She mumbled “Drenched with human gore” and a small chuckle left her from inside the helmet.

“The voyage, that had been long and hard
But that had yielded full reward”

Ardamir halted to watch the road ahead standing in his stirrups, and she watched him with a slight smile.

[What you think Aine…?]

She bit her teeth together

“And bought each sailor to his friend
Happy and rich was at an end”

Johanna

22-06-2007, 10:14

She turned her head once before she left them, Igraine looked tired. So many words had been said that wasn't spoked out loud, in conflict they were battering her head. “Open doors you didn’t know existed”.
A little sound left her when she ignored the thought. Aine was both happy and dissatisfied at the same time.
As she walked to her little room in the back of the shrine another song was forming in her head, one she heard at the docks when she arrived.

“None can fight the power none can fight the wind
Secrets of all life and death are carried there within”

She lit the candle on her desk and opened a book, and started to read.

”Call out to the power of the darkness and light
Have dominion of Arda be lord of all the night”

She took the fetherpen and started to write something down over the lines in the book.

”Kill all those who stand against you look into their eyes
Drink their blood and laugh as they pay for all their lies”

[Would you Aine? Would you do that?]
“No.. I would not” she halted her writing for a moment and then continued.

“The power in the darkness to see without my sight
Walk among the living free of wrong and right
The power of the demons spirits I command
Always by my side to serve the master's plan”

She looked up at the ceiling and her hand found its way to the two golden chains that she had around her neck. One old and the other one new, but they both carried there message. She sighed and closed her eyes with a little smile on her lips.

Lady Igraine

25-06-2007, 20:21

Isolde heard the light beat of hooves on the cobblestones of the courtyard below and eagerly ran to the window. She gazed out into the bright beautiful day to take in the scene below, she wondered who the guest was. She could see down below a small figure on a pony riding toward the Abby, it was a boy, though a little too big to be Jarad. The pony did not strike her as uncommon, a smattering of browns and whites, she had seen its like many times before when Nella took her to the fair. It was nothing compared to the one Aunty Aine had brought her.
What Isode did find odd was the boys clothes, they were very fancy. He wore a patterned blue tunic with a very stylish grey cloak and a hood that concealed his face, who was this strange boy ?
She stepped back from the window and went to her mirror quickly brushing her hair and looking at her dress for wrinkles. She paused to examine herself, the rounded baby fat had disappeared this summer and the sharp, noble features that had been buried had now emerged. She felt she was pretty, Nella said so, but Jarad had never said so and that concerned her. She sighed. She missed Jarad, her constant companion. He had gone to Umbar for the summer while his father attended court. It had been a long lonely summer with hours of lessons on Melkor's teachings, Sindarin , the history of the Numenorean and court customs.
Most of this bored her to no end except the history, she loved to think of the exciting times, the wars, the adventure, of sailing to challenge the Valar. She sometimes liked to imagine herself as an ancient Queen of Umbar, leading her armies to battle in Gondor with Jarad, her consort always present at her side.
She slowly made her way out of her room and to the stair, she listened quietly as a church mouse, no sounds, Nella must be in the chapel. Isolde looked at the railing to the stair and quickly jumped on it and slid down , tumbling onto her bottom when she reached the end, Nella stood there watching her.
"Isolde...." Nella began bothered more by the girls clumsiness than the actual act, she worried that Isolde lacked grace.
Isolde gave Nella her standard look of innocence "Yes Nella ?" she asked.
"You know full well young Lady that the rail is for hands and not for your bottom. " Nella scolded for the hundredth time.
"I am sorry Nella, I forgot. " she lied.
Nella's face grew agitated as she opened her mouth to begin a lecture when a knock came at the door. She glanced at it and returned her gaze to Isolde
"This isn't finished Isolde. " but Isolde new it was, Nella never stayed mad at her.
Nella walked over to the door and opened the small hinged window at the top to see the guest, she could just make the top of the hood of the young man and proceeded to open the door.
" Hello Sister Nella, my father sends his regards and well wishes, can Isolde come out and play ? " the voice was familiar to Isolde, yet not. Who could it be ?
Nella opened the door completely so that Isolde could now see the form at the door. The little courtier at the door even had a small sword in his belt, he pulled back his hood to reveal his face, it was Jarad, but he had grown much this summer and Isolde thought very handsome.
"Well master Jarad , someone has grown quite a bit this summer, I hope you had a good time in Umbar " Nella asked, genuinely fond of the young man that haunted her Abby at every chance.
" Oh yes sister it was very fine , I had a grand time. " he replied with a new sophistication that Isolde found compelling.
" Isolde , you have a visitor. " Nella said stepping back from the door and turning to Isolde.
Isolde slowly stepped forward taking in the sight, she felt funny, almost shy. Why ? she wondered, it was just Jarad. She walked up to the door and stood before him, he was taller now, almost a head more than her.
" Hello Isolde, did you wish to play Hunt master ? " Jarad said, clearly pleased with himself.
Hunt master was one of their games, they had many. Jarad would be the visiting noble to the castle and it was Isolde's job to lead him on a hunt, one of the few games Jarad got to out rank her despite his real status as a future Lord. He had missed her terribly.
Isolde put her hands on her hips and tilted her head " I do not want to do anything with you Jarad ! You abandoned me ! " she slammed the door shut and turned around and waited. Nella watched with amusement, the poor boy did not have a chance. Jarad stood there outside in stunned silence, Why was she like this ? Were all girls crazy ? Jarad suspected they were.
" Isolde ! " he shouted. " I've brought you a present, don't be like that, you know father said I had to go. "
He wondered if she would always be like this, so difficult, never possible to please, why didn't she know her place ? All the other girls in the nearby village followed him like puppies and gave him things, but Isolde wasn't like the other girls.
The door opened an inch and she peeked out at him , taking his fine, well formed face in. She wondered what it would be like to kiss Jarad, she would have to look into that.
"What present ? " she asked unable to contain herself.
Jarad took out a simple silver locket with a round pendant attached. Jarad opened the pendant to reveal a small container, large enough for a small key, or maybe a note. He closed it and handed it to her.
"I spent all my money on this Isolde, I thought you would like it. " he said, beginning to regret buying it.
She opened the door completely and slowly reached for the pendant, turning it over and admiring it, opening and closing the little case. She liked it very much, especially the raised copper image of a griffin and dragon locked together.
" Oh Jarad ! " she said excitedly." it's so pretty ! "
She put it on and went to the hall mirror to examine herself, " Yes he would be a fine consort " she thought. Jarad grinned very happy, perhaps it was money well spent.
" So Hunt master ? " she asked sweetly.

The two moved through the high grass quietly, their prey in sight, a ferocious feline thats end was near. It was actually a normal cat, much like the domesticated sort but wild, the pair had found them hard to shoot with their little bows. Isolde much preferred her sword. It was actually a dagger but on her 10 year old frame it seemed sword enough. She had learned to use it, well in fact, pestering every guard to show her moves and technique as well as her "Aunts". Moia had been the most skilled and enthusiastic teacher, she was Isolde's hero, everything she wished to become, a fierce, powerful warrior afraid of no one.
Jarad fired his arrow just missing and the cat was alerted. It quickly dashed through grass into the small forest. The two stopped at the edge and looked at each other. They were not to leave sight of the Keep or Abby, if they could not see one of them they had gone to far.
"Oh well, maybe we could find another one . " Jarad said not really caring if he got one or not, he actually liked animals.
"Lets just go in a little way, I see it. " Isolde said. She had no love for animals but her pony, but a warrior had to treat her steed with care, Aunty Moia had said so, and so she did.
" You know the rules Isolde, we'll get in trouble. " Jarad did not want to lose his pony for what remained of the fall.
" If you come with me I will give you a kiss. " Isolde offered thinking this a good time to investigate that also.
Jarad wasn't sure he wanted a kiss, he like Isolde but this seemed to tread closely to the other stupid things she made him do, like playing with dolls and dress up. He was afraid kissing might lead to more kissing and then they may never have any fun.
" I don't want a kiss Isolde, lets go home. " he realized now he was quite hungry.
" Alright, I'll kiss you if you don't come with me. " she stated hiding her disappointment.
Jarad sighed. " What was the lesser evil ? " he wondered to himself. " Fine, lets go in, but just for a minute. I'm getting hungry " he said.
With a triumphant smile she entered the wood, they soon lost the cat. After returning to the area where Jarad's pony was Isode suddenly had an Idea.
"Lets run away to Umbar Jarad" she said, the idea coming to her after a day of his stories about the great city.
"Why ? " he asked sensing trouble brewing.
"I want to see my mother. " she said.
" Who is your mother ? " Jarad wondered, she had been forbidden to tell him anything.
" Come with me to Umbar and find out " she said hoping to entice him not having the courage to go alone.
Jarad thought about it, he would get into alot of trouble, but he did like Umbar and this smelled of adventure. He would also finally know why she thought she was better than him, and his father might want to know too.
" Alright Isolde, but you owe me. " he dismounted and helped her onto his pony leading her to the road, it would take them all night to get there.

Lady Igraine

25-06-2007, 20:21

They were tired, they were hungry and it had started to rain. Jarad was miserable and wondered if he might have made a mistake. He had asked her several times to turn back but he knew she wouldn't change her mind, she could be so so stubborn. The long cobbled road was in poor repair and they had to walk the pony, Isolde didn't mind too much, she was strong. The darkness left the fields on either side of the road in a shroud of mystery, they could see no stars and Jarad was getting scared. He had decided to turn back on his own when they saw signs of a fire ahead, the smell of cooking meat making their stomachs roar in outrage, neither of the two ever having missed a meal before. They looked at each other and approached the fire with a confidence that only come with ignorance of how the world really was. As they entered the light of the fire they could see to dark skinned men eating a roasted bird of some sort, Harads, both knew what they were but had never met any in their sheltered lives. The men looked at the pair with quiet amazement.
" What have we here ? " One said, a man with many days growth on his face, a long hooked nose and few teeth remaining.
" We wondered if we could sit by your fire a moment, and maybe have some food ? Isolde said with confidence.
Hook nose looked to his friend, a short squat man of ill temper, they could not believe their luck.
" Are you alone ? " Hook nose asked ?
They both nodded and were met with grins. The pony would fetch a good price, and the children , if from good families as they seemed could be sold or ransomed. They would decide later. Short man stood up and grabbed Jarad by the arm while hooked nose reached for Isolde.
" You wont be eating, but we'll keep you good in warm young ones til we got some gold for you. " Hook nose said as he moved toward Isolde.
" Run Isolde, run ! " Jarad shouted while he uselessly struggled against that man.
Isolde looked at Jarad and then back at the man, she pulled out the dagger Nella had given her all those years ago. Warrior hero's did not leave their consorts behind, beside , where would she find another. The man chuckled as he moved toward her .
" Now now lass, gimmie the knife and ye wont get hurt. " He said with fake sincerity.
He saw her raise the dagger above her head and reached out to grab her arm when he felt her foot smash down on his knee making a terrible snapping noise.
" It only takes 15 lbs of force to break a knee " Aunty Moia had told her. It proved to be true.
The man howled as he fell to the ground writhing in pain.
" Get the little bitch, get her ! " he screamed.
The short squat man realizing the girl was a bigger danger threw Jarad into a tree , watching the boy collapse on the ground. He pulled out a curved sword so favored by the Harad.
" Last chance luv, put it down " he said looking disbelievingly into the fearless 10 year olds eyes.
Isolde went to fake another kick preparing to stab him when she slipped and fell on her end. Short man dropped down pinning her, easily taking the dagger from her. He looked down at the girl as she struggled as if possessed.
" Your a pretty little thing ain't ya ? " he said in such a way as to make Isolde feel ill. " Hows about a little kiss ? " the wretch asked rhetorically.
Isolde did not think she would like this kiss and and for a brief moment thought of Jarad, she had led him to this and now they would die, or worse. She winced as the toothless face came closer when suddenly the man began to rise. Isolde saw he was not standing but was being lifted, when she could see more she was awed by the sight. There stood Aunty Moia holding the man in the air with one hand. She hurled him to the ground and circled him playfully, like a cat and a mouse.
"Aunty Moia ! " Isolde cried in relief.
Moia gave her a reassuring smile and returned her attention to Short man. He struggled to get up but stopped when on his knees.
" Hey there lass, let me go eh ? It's all good eh ? No harm done. " he stammered with a pleading look.
They were his last words as his head fell from his shoulders.
Moia turned as Isolde ran into her arms. She lifted her awkwardly not caring much for such contact, but what could she do ? Moia looked around and saw Jarad, she sat Isolde on the pony and turned her attention to him.
"Stop crying Isolde, your friend will be fine" she said taking a close look at him. " Just the wind knocked out of him.
Isolde slipped off the pony while Moia tended to Jarad. She gathered her dagger and turned her attention to Hooked nose, he was still on the ground though trying to be forgotten. His face grew alarmed in disbelief as he saw the small angel with the dagger walk calmly walk toward him.
" Was that a religious dagger ? " He wondered.
he would never know.
"I am not crying Aunty Moia. " she said while whipping the blood from the blade on his clothes as she had seen Moia do.
Moia turned when she heard the scream. No she wasn't crying. Moia was not surprised, in fact she was quite pleased.

Back in the Abby they sat by the fire. Nella and Moia watching as Isolde hungrily ate the stew and bread. Nella waited anxiously for Moia to leave after her lecture on the safety of Isolde. She hated Moia's visits.
Moia walked over to Isolde and bent on one knee , looking in to the endless blue eyes.
" This wont happen again will it Isolde ? " Moia asked in a rare kind voice.
" No Aunty Moia " Isolde said sheepishly. " I only wanted to see my mother " she said meaning it.
" Not yet, Umbar isn't safe for you. She will send for you when its time. " Moia said, knowing what it was like to wish for a mother.
" When will it be time ? " Isolde asked pleadingly.
" On your 14th birthday she will come and visit. Here. " she said sympathetically hading her letter.
Isolde looked at the beautiful envelope all engraved in gold and silver. A pretty pattern of flowers and unicorns danced around the central word. In big beautiful script was her name.
Isolde.

Johanna

07-07-2007, 12:53

The path through the forest was dry but the air was damp and hot, the sunbeams jostled its ways down through the leaves like magical pillars. Dust swirled around the hoofs and the horse pulled in the rein now and then. A pretty good day Aine thought for herself and she tugged a leaf from a close bush as she passed. The young horse that followed neighed slightly and Aine swooped the path and forest ahead. A few birds took of in unison and she paced up the two horses after the shivering warning had found its way up her spine.

Earlier that day she entered a village that she had been in a few times before, no one had recognized her, probably since it was a some time since she was there. Though she was here only for one purpose and her memory lead her to the goal. Igraine had given her a task and as every task that was put upon her it needed to be carried out with the precision that she knew that Igraine liked, and she would never let her down.
Slowly she continued to the outskirts of the village and halted by the sign that hung on the stable and inspected it for a few seconds. It was in just as bad shape as it had been the last time she was here, the only difference was that it now only hung in one chain.
“What you want” a dark voice greeted her from inside the stable.
Aine slid down her horse and put on her priestess expression.
“My good man, if you weren’t so incompetent, I belive that you would have had enough income to see to your outer first impression, since your own face is well past the line of aid”
The man stride furious out the doors with a big pair of pincers in his hand. She made a deriding face at the same time as she blowed a fine dust in the mans face. He raised his arm with the tool but remained in the position for a few seconds before the arm fell down to his side again. Aine looked around to see if anyone had seen her before she pushed the man back trough the door.
“It is time to repay”

The arrow whined through the air and just missed her with an inch before it bored into the tree behind her. She mumbled as she speeded up and the forest burst into fire close to where the arrow would have came from. At the next bend of the path a big tree blocked the way and she had to make a full stop to not get entangled with the branches. It was time to decide fast what to do, someone was trying to kill her. The young horse behind her snatched the rope that it was kept with. A curse left Aines mouth when she heard some screams from the direction of the burning tree. More then one she thought and decided to jump down from her horse, she patted Mandarbs muzzle and bound the rains in the tree.
She dodged out into the forest, hid behind a thick trunk, pulled a dagger and waited.
Someone was closing in at the horses, two hooded men with drawn short swords and daggers, one of them had his black clothes ill burnt and Aine smiled amused. They knew that she was about, she could tell by there careful moves but she just waited, one of them would leave the shadows a bit to much soon enough, and she was in no hurry, after all it was a pretty good day. Here eye twitched as she once more prayed to Melkor for help.
The dagger left her hand, almost with the speed of an arrow and it buried deep in one of the men chest. He stumbled back and soundless scream tried to make its way out his mouth, but the only think that left him was the blood that started to flow out from it as the world was plunged into darkness around him. The other man quickly hid behind a big stone.
“Come now, you don’t want to play with me anymore” Aine shouted to the him and she stepped forward from behind the trunk with her sword drawn. “I think you need to answer a question or two”
The man jumped up on the stone and started to sprint towards her with his short sword and dagger aimed at her. A war cry left him as he closed in, he knew he would finish her of swift and clean, no woman had ever defeated him before in close range combat.
Aine smiled wickedly and when the man was a few steps away she called for her powers.
The man stumbled into the trunk where Aine had been, she had disappeared. The awkward expression on his face reflected the mistake he had made and the sting in his back reminded him that this was probably one mistake he would regret, then he saw the ground closing in on him. A taste of dirt in his mouth and then a flash ended even the last sense.
Aine pulled the sword from the mans neck leaving his head in a macabre position.
She searched the bodied for any clues on who they were, but not a single mark or object was found. She came to two conclusions, one, they were just simple robbers, she thought that answer a bit to simple though. Two, they were sent out assassins, which was disturbing news since she now knew that someone was after her life.
She hid the bodies a few steps from the path and a pair of ravens watched her with interest as they where preparing on a feast, then she returned to the two horses loosend the rain and lead Mandarb and the young horse around the tree trunk crossing the path.
Igraine had given her a task, and she needed to carry it out regardless of robbers or assassins. It would be a good opportunity to both learn to know Isolde a bit more and most important, present her great gift and she knew that the young horse would be a good companion as her horse had been to her.

Lady Igraine

12-07-2007, 14:44

Riders leave Umbar and deliver the following message to Melkor's Chosen

Recently Master Silversword came to Umbar to visit. During his stay much common ground was found and a friendship was born. Henceforth we shall treat the Silverswords as friends and allies. We may call apon them in times of need for information and reinforcements and they may require the same. If they ask for help please provide what you can in a friendly respectful manner. All slights and troubles from the past are forgiven and forgotten. If any of you wish to dispute this choice you know my ear is always yours.

Igraine

Lady Igraine

13-07-2007, 03:36

Jarad lay on his back with his hands folded behind his head enjoying the cool bright day. He was soothed by the warmth of the head resting on his chest , Isolde using him as a pillow while she handled the yellow flower in her hand. They were beside what was now the new flower garden. The Abby had been completely finished and was now an impressive place. Guards stood at the gate in relaxation as the Abby staff went about their business.
The two had just returned from playing with some of the children from the village. It had all gone well until one of the boys had made an error. Rulstan, one of the bigger boys and considered quite good looking by most of the girls had made the mistake of giving Isolde a flower. Jarad had been sitting with a few of the girls resting from the game they had just played when he spied what happened. With a swiftness that none of the other children could hope of matching he was there, he struck Rulstan hard in the face knocking him to the ground. Rulstan lay in shock from the attack that had come from no where and from a smaller boy at that.
" Never presume you could mingle with your betters Rulstan" Jarad said with pride and arrogance.
" Isolde is not for you ! "
Ralston's face flushed with anger, but he restrained himself, he knew no good would come from a fight with Jarad.
Jarad had grabbed Isolde's hand possessively and led her away from the group. Isolde was shocked by Jarad's reaction, he had never made such a display before.
He had come back even more changed after this summers visit to Umbar, he was a young man now of 13 and his 14th birthday was just days away, he was beginning to see changes in Isolde now also. Isolde was now becoming a young woman , her body had changed in ways that made her much more interesting to look at in Jarad's opinion, in fact he never tired of trying to see more. Isolde was aware that boys watched her, but Jarad wasn't just any boy. Isolde had long wanted Jarad's attention like this, she had spent months trying to get him to kiss her and to spend more time talking about his feelings but had finally given up. Now he would not leave her alone and had twice tried to kiss her, she had not let him...yet.
As they lay there now Jarad was trying to peek down Isolde's top, he liked the small curves that had grown there and would very much like to see it all.
"So who will be at your birthday party Jarad ? " Isolde asked.
" What ? " he said looking at her and seeing she had caught his eye, he blushed.
" I said who will be at your party this year ? " she said casually as she pressed her dress down to cover her breasts.
" Jasmina , and Kilran and You . " he said knowing she hated Jasmina.
" Not Jasmina ! " she said turning over so she could look at him. She knew Jasmina would be there, she hated Jasmina, Jarad's cousin and maybe his future wife.
" Yes Isolde, you know she has to come. " Jarad said ,his peace ruined.
" Well I suppose you will marry her one day. " she closed her eyes resting her head on his chest and listened to his heart quicken.
" No Isolde, I wont marry her. I'm going to marry you. " he said believing it.
She said nothing as his hand came down and stroked her soft dark hair, it felt like silk, none of the villiage girls had hair like this or smelled so nice. Isolde could feel his heart , its beat running through her making her feel a part of him.
" What makes you think I'll have you ? " she said with a mischievous voice.
" What makes you think you have a choice ? " he said deciding she needed to be tickled.
He quickly grabbed her waist with the intention of pinning her so he could tickle her freely. He had not rough housed with her in sometime but assumed he was much stronger than her now, he wasn't . Isolde decided she would let him think he was and eventually he had her pinned and seemingly helpless. He tickled her for awhile as she screamed and laughed in protest.
" Stop it Jarad ! I cant breath ! " she tried to shout, but it came out a whisper.
The grounds keeper looked on with amusement. Jarad held her arms to the ground and looked down at her. She had submitted and he now realized he could kiss her and she couldn't stop him. She looked into his eyes with a strange expression, she was relaxed and waiting to see what he would do. He wet his lips and had decided today was the day, he would kiss her. He brought his face closer and she closed her eyes.

Lady Igraine

13-07-2007, 03:39

The sound of hooves came toward the Abby and the guards snapped at attention. Jarad looked up releasing his hold on Isolde's arms. It was Kora Moia.
" Aunty Moia ! " Isolde pushed Jarad off of her with little effort and ran to the horse as Moia removed her dark helm. Jarad slowly got up and watched Isolde run to Moia thinking legs were nice too look at also.
Moia shook her platinum blond hair out and looked down at Isolde with little expression. She noted Isolde's blossoming body and Jarad's swagger as he walked up behind Isolde.
" Good Day Kora , I hope you had a nice journey here ? " Jarad said with charm and a court worthy bow. Moia looked down at the handsome young noble and frowned. "Why is this whelp always here ? Hmm one reason no doubt " she thought.
" Jarad. " she said without emotion as she dismounted and handed him the reigns.
Jarad dutifully took the reigns and led the horse to the stable, something he would do for few people not his father.
" Why are you here Aunty Moia ? " Isolde asked always curious." Is mother still coming ? " Igraine was to be there for her birthday in a few short months, she counted everyday.
" I have business with Nella, it is of no concern to you child. " Moia said as she began to walk across the courtyard toward the large iron bound oak door the entered the Abby.
Isolde's gaze went to the stable door awaiting Jarad's return, he would have to go home now and she had not gotten her kiss, so close.
SMASH ! The Oak door flew open smashing against the stone wall behind it. Moia stormed out dragging Nella by the hair.
"Stop ! Stop ! Guards ! " Nella screamed in her pained voice as she crawled along behind Moia trying to relieve the pull on her hair. The guards did nothing, Nella did not pay them, Igraine did.
Moia pulled Nella to a tall wooden post just 10 feet from the door, it was used to tie lanterns on nice summer nights. She ripped the simple black robe from Nella exposing her fat wrinkled body to all that stood around watching in shock. Each fearful as they watched their Mistress degraded like a dog. Moia pulled a length of rope from her belt and tied Nella's wrists to the post, she then pulled out her whip.
" Why ? " Nella pleaded knowing what was to come.
" You know why, if you do not you are a bigger fool than I thought." Moia said as the whip snapped and left a red welt on Nella's left shoulder.
Isolde watched in fascination as Moia whipped Nella with a relentless cruelty, tearing a little flesh with each lash. After 20 lashes Nella was weeping, after 40 she was shrieking in horror, after 80 she was unconscious, after 100 Moia stopped.
" Go ! Untie her and see to her wounds ! " Moia barked to a quick response.
Moia turned to see Isolde's expression, she no longer worried the girl was squeamish, but she had a sensitivity that was not healthy, or so Moia thought. Isolde stood and looked at Moia in awe, her expression was envy. Moia threw Isolde the whip.
" You should learn to use this also Isolde, it has many uses. " Moia said matter of factly.
Jarad began to approach wanting to see the whip also, all 3 oblivious to the commotion that swept Nella into the Abby.
" Get my horse boy. " Moia said to Jarad not liking him. She turned her gaze back Isolde.
" She is still coming, nothing has changed. " Moia said in a calm voice that few ever heard. " You know why this happened ? "
Isolde nodded with the realization she had life and death power over Nella, her concerns of not being allowed to Jarad's birthday were quickly forgotten. She might even ask for a new dress made in Umbar, she would show that Jasmina.
Moia nodded with satisfaction as she got on her horse.
"Good, next time its to be him " she said pointing at Jarad as she lied.
Isolde said nothing as Moia rode off. Jarad looked at Isolde confused and concerned.
" You better be nice to me Jarad " she said with a sly smile as she made her way to the Abby, bloodshed always made her hungry. She glanced back knowing he would still be watching him, she opened the door, looked at him ,kissed her palm and blew. Jarad made a jumping motion with uncommon grace as if to catch it, he then kissed his hands. She closed the door and smiled to herself despite the whimpers that came from the healing chamber.
"It had been a very good day." she thought to herself. She had almost had her first kiss.

Lady Igraine

16-07-2007, 17:02

Dark Riders set forward from Umbar seeking out the Chosen to summon them home for a Holy Gathering.

OOC:This Sunday at 11 am EST 4 pm in UK we will gather for an event. All are encouraged to attend, if this time is an issue please let me know asap as I would like to have as many together as possible.

Igraine

DM__Sauron

17-07-2007, 13:25

OOC Time changed to 1 pm EST 6 pm in the UK on Sunday.

DM_Yavanna

18-07-2007, 20:05

It was mid-day when Inzil rode into the Abbey grounds, and from the time she entered, she could tell that something had changed--something important. She wasn't sure she would like the change. As she progressed though the gardens and worshop areas, it became clear that there was an atmosphere of fear; people who had treated her in a reasonably friendly way, or at least had ignored her, now cowered in terror at the sight of her. Something had happened, and it could not be good. Fear, and the resentment behind it, resulted in inefficiency among one's assistants and staff.

When she arrived at the gate to the Abbey itself, she was dismayed to see that the cringing gatekeeper would scarcely look at her. "Dealing with whipped dogs is seldom pleasant nor does it get work done without wasted time," she thought to herself. Addressing the gatekeeper, she said, "I came to see Isolde, but I think I need to talk to the Abbess and to Nella first. Would you let them know I am here and would like to talk with them? I think it would be best to talk with the Abbess first." "Right away, madame," was the answer. As pleasantly as she could, Inzil thanked her.

Before long, the Abbess herself came hastening to Inzil. She too carried the aura of fright and anxiety that pervaded the Abbey. "Let us find someplace private to talk, Lady Abbess," Inzil requested. Soon they were seated in the Abbey leader's private parlor, where Inzil remarked on the changes she had observed and asked what had happened. As she heard the story of Moia's visit and Isolde's subsequent bullying of those around her, the frown on her face deepened; by the end of it, the Abbess could almost hear rumblings of thunder and see flickers of lighting. No one had seen Inzil become angry, but now she was enraged. Though she said none of this, she thought, "Moia has made a terrible mess here! I wish there were some way to control that maniac's access to the child--she has so much potential. What can I do to clean up the shambles that madwoman has left? Well, nothing like beginning here, but Isolde's going to be hard. Oh, how I hope she hasn't become hopelessly spoiled!"

"This is irresponsible. Isolde was receiving good care here, and Nella has been dedicated. It is no way to reward folk who are doing good work for us! I like neither what this has done to you nor what it is doing to Isolde. There are much, much better ways to handle a young girl's disobedience." Scowling, she continiued, "Let us see how this damage can be repaired, if at all."

A somewhat relieved Abbess then escorted Inzil to Nella, who was still recovering from her flogging. Shocked by the sight, even though she had heard about it, Inzil rummaged immediately in her pack and pulled out some ointment and some herbs. "Use these to promote healing for the body. What this has done to the mind is another matter. I shall talk with Nella privately, if I may."

Inzil would never forget the poignant dialogue that ensued. She found herself listening with sympathy--not always feigned--to Nella's story. Convinced that Nella had Isolde's welfare at heart and had not been neglectful, she did her best to encourage Nella to continue to provide what care and guidance she could. She ended saying, "Nella, I know it will be difficult for you to provide direct guidance to Isolde after this. She has been given license to run roughshod over you all. However, I shall have a talk with her, and we shall see how you can continue to be helpful to her but stay out of trouble. We cannot really make this up to you, but tell me, if I were to provide some help to your family, would that ease some of the pain?"

Finally, Inzil found Isolde. The girl was obviously a bit frightened, but at the same time, she was trying to hide it behind bravado. "Aunty Moia showed them who's in charge! They can't tell me what to do any more! I'll kiss Jarad if I like." Isolde's lower lip was pushed out in defiance.

Inzil shrugged. "Kiss whom you like; it's no matter to me. Just don't get entangled so deep you can't get away if you need to do so." Hiding her anger, she continued, "Now, Isolde, tell me what happened when Auntie Moia came." Again she listened to the story, from yet a third point of view. She knew she would need to exercise much patience with Isolde, who might well have been ruined by the experience.

"What did you think when Nella, who loves you, was so badly hurt?" she asked. Isolde gave her a winsome smile and said, "She doesn't tell me what to do any more. I hope she gets better, but I don't want her to be my boss any more." Inzil took this in, and continued, "So, Isolde, what *do* you want from Nella, other than not telling you what to do?"

Isolde had never thought about this; she had been concerned with her immediate desires and wants. Pausing, she looked at the ground, thinking for a minute. Then she muttered, "I want her to take care of me--but not boss me around."

Inzil nodded. "One day, Isolde, you will have servants. Their job is to take care of you, which is what you want from Nella. Most of them will want to do a good job and please you." Isolde continued to look down. "Now many have served me, and served me well. Most of them do so willingly and look for ways to do it better--and do you know why?"

Isolde said hesitantly, "Because you will beat them if they don't?" Suppressing a sigh, Inzil responded, "Quite the cointrary. I reward those who do good work and not those who do not. Those who do not do good work and do not mend their ways do not continue to work for me. Those who do good work know I appreciate what they do and try even harder. Beating people is usually wasteful."

Continuing, she asked, "Have you ever been beaten for doing something wrong?" Isolded nodded, looking sulky. "And have you been rewarded for doing things right?" Isolde said she had--treats and privileges. "Which made you try harder? Think about it."

"Your purpose with staff of any sort--and that includes Nella--should be to get the best service you can from them. Hurting them and making them afraid may feel good for a moment, but you'll get better work from them if you make them like working for you. I want you to think long-term, because that's what you'll need to do when you leave here."

Looking sternly at Isolde, Inzil said, "I will be here for a few days. Tomorrow we will talk again, and I want you to give me some ideas on how to help the people here *want* to help you and stop being afraid of you. I want you to think about how to get Nella's good advice without feeling she's bossing you around. Now, go and think about hjow to help me fix things here so you get good service."

Lady Igraine

19-07-2007, 07:21

" Ow ! " Isolde shrieked as she back handed the Harad seamstress sending her reeling backward with a slam into Isolde's bed.
" You stupid woman, next time you stab me with a pin I will take out your eyes ! " she yelled at the woman.
The small brown skinned woman was not accustomed to such treatment, she was one of the top seamstress's in Umbar, she had come all the way to the village because the money was to good to refuse, now she knew why. She slowly stood up again and looked at the young woman before her. She wondered what would happen if she tried to leave. She cautiously step forward again and placed the last pin in and admired the dress. It was a lovely gown made of the finest silk in the latest fashion, puffy sleeves to the elbow with a a simple pattern of a phoenix in various stones on the front, she looked stunning.
" I am done " she said meekly. " I will have it ready by morning. "
" You had better ! " Isolde said removing the dress and putting on her simple yellow gown.
She was pleased, Jasmina would look so common in comparison and Jarad would not even remember she was there, or so Isolde hoped. After dressing she went down stairs to the main hall where Kladis, her bodyguard, was sitting watching the housekeeper scrub the floor. Kladis was a hard man, he had seen many battles but when he married and the children began to come he decided on a quieter life. Body guarding was good work, safe and relaxing, until now.
"Come Kladis, I'm going to the market for some candle's and perfume." Isolde said casually.
Isolde quite liked Kladis, though he limited her fun to some extent he had much to teach and was essentially her servant, also she knew he added to her prestige reminding the locals she was their better.

The market was quiet, the sun was slowly setting and some of the merchants began to close their shops. Isolde looked at the the pink candles.
" Very soothing those one's " said the middle aged Harad with a rat face.
" I shall take 5 then , and wrap them. " She said wondering if they might calm her when the anger rose.
" Very good my young Kora " he said with attempted charm.
Kladis took the parcel without word and paid the man. He looked to his little Mistress, he hoped she was done so he could eat. Isolde looked about the small market until her eyes froze on a girl that was slowly approaching. The little woman was no more than 5 feet tall. She was slender with a dark brown hair, smoky gray eyes and a pretty oval face centered by a small upturned nose. Her dress was formal with rich oranges and browns of pastel tone and made of the finest silk. It was Jasmina.
Jasmina was Jarad's cousin on his mothers side. Her father though not of the best blood lines had through charm and maneuvering advanced his station greatly and was well known to the Vizier. He had led them to wealth and power and it was reflected in his family. Jasmina had always had the best of everything and was accustomed to good society, her time in this little town annoyed her to no end. But Jarad's family being an ancient line though in poor fortune at the present would lend greater status to Jasmina's family, it did not hurt that he was both charming and pleasing to her eyes.
" Jasmina, how lovely to see you. When did you arrive ? " Isolde said in her sweetest voice knowing it was best to keep ones opponent at ease.
" Just this morning...Isolde is it ? " Jasmina said knowing the name too well having seen her a dozen times. They hated each other.
" Yes..." Isolde answered wishing she could strangle Jasmina.
" And how are things at the orphanage ? " Jasmina inquired still not understanding this girls place and manner.
There was a tense silence and all that could be heard was the sounds of the merchants closing shop as the evening transformed to night. Kladis tensed despite himself unsure if he would have to restrain Isolde. Isolde could feel the rage inside her begin to rise, her constant companion, always near like her shadow.
"Melkor, take this anger from me and save it for when it might be unleashed " she preyed silently for a moment.
The anger began to ease and slowly was replaced by an unusual warmth, her spirit rose and she felt almost giddy. She smiled.
"It is not an orphanage , it is an Abby, my Mother is a Priestess and I am being educated here, but I suppose it is a subtle difference. " She said in a cheerful voice that put Kladis on guard.
Jasmina frowned at Isolde's confidence, she knew what Jarad saw in her, beautiful, confident and something...but she was not refined, graceful or sophisticated as Jasmina was.
" Of course, I meant no insult " Jasmina replied taking her fan from her belt, opening it a slowly and finally fanning herself.
" None taken, I know we shall be great friends " Isolde lied.
" I could want nothing more " Jasmina said mechanically, laughing inwardly at the naive country girl with beautiful black hair. How could she be so foolish as to think they could be friends ?
" I look forward to seeing you at the party then, I must ask you to excuse me though, I need to catch the scent merchant before he shuts." Isolde said hoping to end the meeting.
Jasmina wrinkled her nose as she frowned becoming quite ugly.
" I do not know how I would survive such a provincial selection, you must have the patience of sage " Jasmina said quite smugly.
" Yes, I am sure my dress will be a shadow of what you have at the party, I cannot wait to see you there. Come Kladis. " She said as she turned sharply and headed toward the herbalist.

Lady Igraine

19-07-2007, 07:28

Isolde walked up the stairs to the D'Kai estate. The two guards in silver chain armor and large halberds stood in disciplined silence as they approached and entered the doors which were open. The high ceilings were all in white with great tapestries covering the main hall from ceiling to floor, several old painting adorned the walls betraying the families ancient history. Kladis stepped back to the wall and watch the proceedings with little interest, he was not concerned for Isolde's safety here but he would stay alert.
Isolde had been in the mansion many times, it was her second home. She never tired of seeing it in full splendor with the interchanging white and black marble tiles on the floor and the ancient suits of armor and old weapons. There was even a plaque from Ar-Pharazôn for recognition of heroism. The plaque was over 3000 years old and was from the time that their people first took Umbar from the Harads. Isolde was greeted by Kora Camilla D'Kai , Jarad's mother. She was a distinguished looking woman of good breeding and was fond of Isolde, though she did not see them as a suitable match
Isolde gave a curtsy the equal of any lady in court and said respectfully " Good evening Kora D'Kai, the estate looks just splendid ! " meaning it.
Kora D'Kai gave Isolde a full inspection and was quite impressed with the beautiful gown, in truth she owned none its equal herself. She smiled with full approval when her eye spotted the sapphire earing's Isolde had gotten for her 13th birthday, they valued what the village earned in a year.
"Isolde dear you are simply stunning " Kora D'Kai said wondering if perhaps she had been too quick to judge, this beauty would make fine children.
Isolde blushed and looked down as she had been taught to.
"And what is that heavenly scent ? I have never smelt its like. " she said kindly.
"I am unsure Kora D'Kai , the merchant said it was called the scent of Gondor's defeat, I think it was captured in a battle. " Isolde said loving the attention.
" You will make quite an entrance I am sure. The other children are in the parlor, I suppose this will be the last children's party you attend." she said kindly.
" I wouldn't know Kora D'Kai, before I go, might I ask how Kor D'Kai is ? " she said knowing Nella would be proud.
" He is well Isolde, though he has been called to battle. " she said unconcerned.
Isolde smiled and curtsied " I am sure he will bring yet more honor to your noble house " she said turning and walking toward the parlor Kladis following quietly behind.
Isolde thought about what Aunty Inzil had said, about getting people to want to help you through good will. It seemed to her that this was certainly the approach for those that had power over her and even those that served directly under her, she would have to get Kladis some nice gift soon, perhaps a new horse. Kora D'Kai would be a powerful ally if she was to have Jarad for good, the wheels in her mind began to turn.
Isolde walked into the torch lit parlor, the room had a large fireplace a big bear rug in front and several plush chairs . The others, Jarad, Kilran the son of the Lord of the neighboring township and Jasmina were all standing to the far end of the room where a combat practice dummy stood. The boys were throwing knives to see which could get closer to the marking which was to be the heart, Jasmina cheered Jarad on. They all stopped and turned to look at Isolde.
" Kladis, please wait outside , there are no other doors out of this room. " she lied.
Kladis frowned, he had had a tour of the house and knew its lay out, there was an adjoining chamber on either side but she was safe enough.
" Very well little Mistress " he said wondering if he might get the servant outside to play dice with him.
They were all staring at her, Jasmina was shocked that this country bumpkin could transform in such a way. Jarad and Kilran stood stunned their mouths open. Isolde took in the scene and slowly walked toward them inwardly pleased. She was not graceful like Jasmina was, but she found if she moved slowly she did not seem quite as awkward.
" Happy birthday Jarad . " she said reaching them.
Jarad face flushed when he noted the way her gown pushed up her breasts which were getting fuller. He soon realized he was staring and looked up.
" Thank you Isolde.' He said with a grin." You look...divine. " he said not noticing the glare Jasmina gave him.
" Let us finish this Jarad, two more throws each. " Kilran said knowing he would lose. He did not mind, Jarad had uncommon dexterity and they had been friends their whole lives. Kilran knew they both had strengths and weaknesses, he could ride better and was a skilled hunter.
Jarad tore his eyes from Isolde, gave Jasmina a weak smile and then looked at the target. He threw the knife without effort and hit his mark looking up triumphantly.
" Well done ! " Jasmina chimed.
Kilran took his time checking the weight of the knife and aiming carefully, he too hit the mark.
" Oh no ! " Jasmina shrieked.
Isolde watched without expression. She stepped closer to the two boys standing just behind them, close enough for them to smell her perfume.
Jarad threw and missed by an inch.
"Jarad ! " Jasmina admonished.
Jarad shrugged and turned his attention to Isolde. Kilran threw and hit his mark.
" Ha ! I win Jarad. " He said pleased with himself.
" Well done Kilran " Jarad said graciously," take a prize from the bag. Then I think it is time for food and presents. " he declared.
Kilran grabbed a small wrapped parcel that turned out to be a wooden model, it was clearly a horse with wheels that when snapped together became a solid piece.
The four gathered around a small table set for them, a servant came and served dinner , poured each a glass of wine and then went back out the door with hopes of winning some of his money back from Kladis. While eating the boys talked about going off to the military academy next spring. Jarad wanted to be an archer, Kilran in cavalry. Finally when they were done dinner and were finishing the cake when Jarad poured each another glass of wine.
" I would like to thank you all for coming, you three are my dearest friends in the world and I would have hated for you not to all be here. " Jarad said like a statesman.
" You must open my gift first Jarad. " Jasmina declared feeling very insecure, for the first time in her life.She handed him a small box.
" Very well " Jarad said opening the box and removing the gold broach it contained.
" This will look fine on my uniform in the spring. Thank you Jasmina, it is quite a gift. " he said to her beaming smile.
" Mine next. " Kilran said.
Jarad nodded and looked at the paper bound bundle, he ripped off the paper without care and revealed a purple cloak of regal quality.
" It is a special cloak, it is said that a sorcerer cast magic protections on it. " Kilran said with pride.
" Amazing ! " Jarad replied with a grin. He passed the cloak along for the others to inspect.
" I suppose I should get mine. Kladis !" Isolde called.
Momentarily the bodyguard appeared with the bundle and placed it in front of Jarad. With a slight bow and a click of his heals he left . Jarad examined the bundle , it was about 4 feet long but narrow and not high, it was a box of some sort. He removed the cloth covering to see an old wooden case with his name in silver letters. The case was locked.
" The key ? " he said to her clearly excited.
" Oh silly me. " she said playfully.
Isolde slowly opened the locket that Jarad had given her and removed a small silver key , handing it to Jarad. Jarad unlocked it and opened it. It was a scimitar, a finely made one with a jeweled hilt and silver bound scabbard.
" I love it Isolde, thank you . " he said testing its weight with a few swings.
" I thought you might " she said calmly not betraying her delight.
Jarad replaced the blade in its scabbard and put it in the case locking it, all done with reverent care.
" Now what shall we do ? " he asked the group
" You are the Birthday Boy Jarad, you decide. " Kilran answered.
" Then I say we play Tops ! " he declared.
Tops was a kissing game. One person would spin the top and would kiss whoever its top pointed at. The suggestion was met with giggles from the girls and an awkward blush from Kilran.
" Aww Jarad ....." Kilran moaned secretly delighted.
" Only because it is your birthday Jarad, and just one turn each. First Jasmina and I should freshen up. Would you like to try the new scent Jasmina ? " Isolde said.
" Yes lets Isolde " Jasmina said sweetly.

Lady Igraine

19-07-2007, 07:29

Isolde jumped up bumping the table causing the wine to swirl in their glasses, she seldom drank. She grabbed Jasmina's hand and led her to the adjoining room. The room had just been repainted and was divided by a large curtain at the mid point. Other than the beige colored walls there was little there except for a large mirror just feet from the curtain. Isolde led Jasmina to the mirror and took out a small comb. As the two began to comb their hair Isolde began to chat.
" I love your dress Jasmina, who made it ? " Isolde said sweetly.
" Oh I am sure you would never have heard of her. " Jasmina said smugly checking herself over in the mirror.
" I am sure you are right, what did you think of Kora D'Kai dress ? " Isolde asked.
" That old thing, I think it is older than we are. " she said with a malicious giggle.
" Oh I thought she looked lovely, but she would in just about anything. I hope I age as well a she does. It is hard to believe she is old enough to have a son Jarad's age. "
" Oh come now ! She is turning into a crone, and have you not noticed she has no chin , its hard to believe she has noble blood. I am glad my mother got the looks of the sisters " Jasmina said with condescension in her tone.
The curtain opened and there stood Kora D'Kai. Isolde could see her easel and paints set by the window. Kora D'Kai often painted in moonlight and this was her art room. Kora D'Kai gave Jasmina a look that could have melted the fresh paint in the room.
" Not many of pure blood have brown hair Jasmina. " Kora D'Kai said with venom while touching her own dark black hair.
" Come with me you two " her mood clearly foul.
The two followed her sheepishly back into the parlor.
" Jarad, it is late. I think it is time your guests went to bed " she said giving Jasmina a dark look. Isolde was the only one that lived near and would not stay the night.
" But...." her look stopped his protest.
" Yes mother " he said with disappointment.
Kora D'Kai stormed out. The room was filled with awkward silence. Isolde walked up to Jarad and kissed his cheek.
" Good night Jarad, thank you for the wonderful party, and happy birthday . " She said with affection.
Jarad blushed slightly raising his hand to his cheek where she has kissed him. he walked her to the door. He looked her over again burning the image into his mind. He would always remember her this way in the future when he summoned her memory.
" Good night Isolde, thank you for everything. " he said wishing he could hold her.
She gave him a demure smile and opened the door.
" Come Kladis, it is time to go home. " she said as Kladis approached and put her night cloak over her. He fell in behind her as she walked out of the house.

Later that night as she brushed her hair in her night gown Isolde considered the events that had just passed. She thought that Kora D'Kai would be happy to help her in the future and she would see to Kladis soon. Aunty Inzil's advice had proved very wise. She wondered what else she might learn from her that was useful. There was also Aunty Aine. She began to conclude that Aunty Moia while brave and strong could only have one effect on people, fear. Isolde considered it might be better for people not to fear her until they were in her power, until she needed them to. She paused and frowned , she still had not gotten her kiss.

Nightspell

19-07-2007, 19:29

Moia waited patiently outside the mansion. She had been following Isolde since Inzl had come to the Abby. She wondered what the meaning had been for the visit but didn’t care. The looks of the servant’s faces pleased her greatly. They would show respect, even if she had to whip each and every last one of them. There would be no mistakes from now on, and she would make sure of it. That fool Nella woun’t make another mistake again. Speaking his name to her. How dare she. Zelerdor was not to be mentioned to Isolde. Well, not by anyone that Moia didn’t think deserved to anyway. As Moia sat there listening to the sounds of the party from a safe distance, as to not be noticed and recognized, she thought back. She had wondered if throughout Isolde’s journeys, she should have revealed herself sooner. Perhaps even adventured with her. What more could she have taught Isolde? Isolde was an accomplished swords woman. Moia often felt much pride when she thought of Isolde’s accomplishments. And frowned with distaste when she thought of the prissy and needless pampering that often accompanied the others that would visit and train Isolde in the ways of court. Hearing a loud noise, Moia looked back to the Mansion, shaking her head. She knew if anything were to happen in there she would have very little trouble getting inside and removing Isolde from danger. It’s not that Moia thought Isolde’s bodyguard wasn’t capable enough, after all, she had selected him. It was just that……. She wondered on that thought for a moment. Why did she need to keep watch on her? She had a spy in place to know precisely everything going on and she knew she could trust the actions of Kladis. Yet the why the ever need to shadow Isolde? That was it!! Igraine, Isolde’s mother was the reason why she watched over Isolde even when she didn’t need to. But even that thought had Moia wondering. But not for long. Moia had never really known her mother. Never had the chance to thank to her father. But then she met Igraine and her world had changed. She learned family, and what it ment. Well, what it ment to the twisted and deranged mind that was Moia’s. But family, she thought of Igraine as her mother now, she knew it as clearly as she knew she thought of Isolde as her little sister. Moia knew from then on that nothing would stand in her way to watch her little sister grow to greatness. She would make sure of it. Moia turned to watch the happenings of the party going on inside and smiled to herself. “Play on little sister, your day will come I promise you”.
Later that night she watched Kladis and Isolde leave the party. She shadowed them all the way home. The couple of goblins that had gotten to close, nearly a mile, died quickly and without a sound. Moia had never lost sight of Isolde and her bodyguard. She watched Isolde as she entered back into the Abby and smiled again.
She waited for all to be quiet before going and talking to Kladis. She knew he would be frightened that she was there but she didn’t care. She didn’t come this night to discipline, she needed information. After summoning Kladis in the proper predetermined way she waited the 30 min for him to finish what he was doing and show up back at the stables. Moia was sitting upon a shoeing stool when he entered. Nodding to Moia as he entered She rose off the stool to look him squarely in the eyes. She said nothing as she walked towards him, noting the fear in his eyes. She smiled. Watching him take a step back Moia simply held out her hand. “hold out your hand Kladis” she bade him. He did as he was commanded with out so much as a second of hesitation. Moia moved her had over his and placed something into his palm and then closed his fingers over it. “This will server you well as you have served me well. Keep doing so and I will continue to be pleased” Moia said. “If not…” she let the statement hang. Her words and intent as clear as the purest waters that Isolde drank. Moia nodded to Kladis and left the stables knowing that the ring of protection she had just given Kladis may prove more useful against Isolde’s outbursts than other adversaries but she didn’t care. She knew that Kladis would not fail her. Not now, not ever. He was loyal, she knew, because if he was not he knew he would die painfully and slowly. Moia need to keep her spy in place and keep him strong. Especially, because she would need to get back to Tharbad soon and continue her duties to her mother Igraine. Moia again smiled at the thought of that. Perhaps one day she will call her mother.

Dakota Strider

27-07-2007, 07:45

Chapter 1

The horse and rider made their way north on the old road that wound its way through the barren Dagorland. The man kept his attention on the route, not looking to the left or right. His horse, uncharacteristically, did not try to stray to the side of the path to attempt to bite a clump of the sparse grass that grew. Instead it moved at hastened walk, nervously eyeing the fog that hung over the marshes to either side of the road. The rider knew there was nothing to fear, as long as they did not wander off the path. It had been several hours since he had passed through the Black Gate, and already he had seen two orcish patrols and a company of Easterlings that were making their way towards Mordor. He passed these without incident, as his proudly displayed the symbol of his office, and the servants of Sauron moved by him, some nodding in respect as they did.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun shone into his face as he rode into the west, he raised his hand to shield his vision from the glare. Touching the patch that covered the left socket, he was reminded of the injury he had suffered over 10 years before.

Gunthar Morohtar had been fourteen years old, and along with his older brothers was conducting their daily weapons training . Daugion, the eldest son of the family already had gained the rank of lieutentant in the Umbar army. Urovion, just two years, Gunthar's elder, also appeared to have a promising career in the military as well. The two younger brothers sparred with wooden scimitars while the older watched and gave instructions. Gunthar, though not as skilled nor as strong as Urovion, fought with determination and cunning. He knew that as the third son of a family in Umbar, regardless of the purity of his Numenorean blood, the only future he would have, would be one he made on his own. And for a son of Vehiron, that meant a career in the army. Daugion would inherit their father's estate and as such was groomed to replace his father as commander of the 4th Umbar Regiment. In such a position he was less likely to see danger in battle, but on the chance of his demise, Urovion would be the successor. Gunthar had no illusions of fate being so kind as to remove both brothers out of his way, and also knew that he would not have an officer's commission handed to him, like Daugion had. So, he treated every practice as if his future depended on it.

This day, Gunthar was doing particularly well, scoring almost as many hits on his brother as he received. Urovion, true to his name, started to lose his temper at being showed up by his younger sibling. Daugion's taunting did not improve the middle son's mood at all either, and he started swinging his wooden blade wilder and harder trying to inflict maximum pain with each blow. Both wore thick padded suits, and metal helmets with face guards for protection, but solid blows still left bruises. Gunthar started stepping back from his opponent's onslaught, hoping that Urovion would soon tire from his frenzied attack. He parried the blows the best he could, but his brother's superior strength proved more then he could stand up against. Urovion's weapon finally landed square upon Gunthar's guantled hand with such force, he could not maintain the grip on his own scimitar. As it rattled on the tiled floor, Gunthar held his hands out, in the signal of submission, signifying he had lost. He was not prepared then, when Urovion took a final swing and connected solidly in the face guard of his helm.

Gunthar screamed in agony, as he felt something stab through his eyeball. His brother's weapon had shattered on impact, and as he raised his hands to the face of his helmet, he could feel the piece of wood that was sticking through the thin eyehole. Gunthar vaguely remembered Daugion screaming at his brother, and knocking him to the ground. After his initial scream of pain, Gunthar cursed as only one who was raised in a seaport could. His left hand still covering the spot in his bloody helmet that the splinter stuck out of, he used his other hand to hold onto Daugion as he led him through the mansion. He remember that he screamed again, as the helmet was taken off his head, and the stick of wood shoved deeper into his eye. Then a bottle of brandy was placed in his hand, and he drank from it until the pain became a dull throb.

After several days travel, Gunthar approached the dark woods of Southern Mirkwood. Following the directions he had been given he found the path that led between the twisted trees. Shortly after, he was challenged by the guttural voices of orcs. Using his command voice, Gunthar replied in sharp tones, mixing his native Adunaic with a few words of the Black Speech he had learned for this occassion. Satisfied with his response, he was given escort to the hill of Amon Lanc and soon after, through the gates of Dol Guldor.

The stench and filth of the place appalled the young man, but his face did not betray his emotions. Gunthar's thoughts were focused on completing his mission, and then be clear of this place. Pulling the ivory scroll case out from its protected location, he sought a human thrall master to get directions. Learning of where the Lord of the fortress's chamber was located, he paused to straighten his cloak and buff some smudges off his shiney obsidian armor. Unlike his original plans when he was still a lad, it was not the armor of an officer in the Umbar military. Instead, he wore the trappings of a priest of Melkor's Temple.

RavenMorothar

02-08-2007, 23:25

On her way to Nella again, this time not a friendly visit, she didn’t even notice the singing birds or the some what pleasant breeze. Igraines orders surrounded her; “Take control and bring Nella here as fast as you can.” Everything had escalated around her, not that she couldn’t handle it, just that some things took too long a time for her own pleasing.

She wanted to continue seeking for her cousins. She had a family, nothing close, but still family. She found out her birth name, Rhavaniel and what had happened to her parents. She spoke out her name loud for her self, “Rhavaniel." A little smile started to build up on her face.

[Yes, that is your name]

She was almost taken surprise, and she almost turned her head, but she knew that nothing was there.

She saw the abbeys tower and Rhavaniel reined her horse in to trot in a slow pace the last few yards. A boy immediately ran forward bowed his head with a big smile and took the reins. She looked at him for a second, she didn’t recognize him, slid down from the horse and patted the boy on his head.

“Don’t make it comfortable for him, I will not stay long” she said and smiled at the boy.

“Right miss” he answered, apparently knowing who she was.

Rhavaniel took a deep breath and started the short walk to the side door. It was locked. She frowned and knocked.

“Just a minute” a male voice shouted from the inside.

Her eye twitched. “I don’t have a minute” she answered with a cold voice, and a few seconds after steps was heard closing in on the door and a bolt was moved on the other side.

A young man dressed in robes opened the door, “Yes?”

Rhavaniel slapped him hard on the side of his head and he stumbled back. “Why is this door locked?”

“Oh.. ehh.. I’m sorry” he held a hand on his cheek, trying to bow deep at the same time “Nella, said … she didn’t ..” he stopped when he saw her face, apparently she had heard enough and he took a few steps back.

“You bring Nella here now, and tell her to bring something for the night cold, we are going to Umbar and that straight away." She made a short pause, then continued. "From now on you don’t take orders from her, you follow my words and words from the shrine. Is that understood disciple?”

“Yes, priestess” the answer came out fast and was followed by a deep bow before he hurried away to find Nella.

Rhavaniel walked in and looked around in the room. They had not finished the wood work that was supposed to be done weeks ago and that didn’t make her in a better mood. She headed out to find some of the other disciples, arrangements had to be made before she headed back.

Lady Igraine

24-08-2007, 03:50

Dark Riders set forth throughout Arda in search of the Chosen calling them home. There is work to be done and blood to be spilled.

OOC// There will be a gathering to do one of the last evil quests Sunday at 2 PM EST and 7PM GMT, we look forward to seeing as many of you as possible.

Nolëtáro

24-08-2007, 16:07

Ynzakhêr sat alone, meditating deep inside the ruins of Eregion, as spirits of darkness whirled around him, whispering maddening chants and screaming for mercy. A mercy the Black Sorcerer would not grant them; A peace they would only achieve if banished to the Void. And he would never do so; They were his weapons, the means by which he brought harm to the world. Phantoms of deceased Men, trapped Elven chords of the Song and even Orcs, crying out, begging release... yet for him, they were but the humming of a powerful engine of destruction... his own.

Steps echoed across the ruin, and his meditation ceased, as he lifted himself up and looked back. A messenger, clad in black. Without a single sentence, the messenger dropped a letter and fled.

With a grin of deep satisfaction, Ynzakhêr neared the letter and opened it, reading through it swiftly.

"So, she needs me once more. Servitude to this priestess sickens me. And the others are naught but fools that beggar favour to her, who dare to bear names in the Elven tongues. Lord Murazôr commanded me... I shall follow her and learn from her. To the Void if I come to respect that fool, however... Igraine still has much to prove to me. Much less that fool she assigned me to... orders must be followed. I shall do as Lord Murazôr commands. Learn and see what you must see."

With a hollow, coughed-out sigh, Ynzakhêr prepared himself to leave, gathering what things he had brought with him to journey back to, in his opinion, the rat-hole-made-temple that was the Shrine in Umbar. The shadows in his mind closed down even more. The process was speeding.

Dakota Strider

20-09-2007, 04:31

A new priestess in the service of Melkor has been accepted into the ranks as an Initiate of the Chosen. Mareke, has been assigned to follow up on rumours which our exalted High Priestess believes may be a sign of the upcoming return of our True Lord. She shall answer directly to Priestess Kora Rhavaniel Morathor, as well as following the orders of all her superiors in the Chosen. High Priestess Igraine showed pleasure in the new priestess's eagerness to serve, and the initiative she has already shown.

http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff286/Dakota_Strider/MCTemple1.jpg
http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff286/Dakota_Strider/MCTemple2.jpg

Also, a guest that possessed information about a returning entity in Tharbad, was sent to create a meeting with the Temple's representative. The Herald travelled to the North shortly after, to deal with this possible new ally within enemy lands. Word is he has returned several weeks later with interesting news, and is awaiting audience with Igraine and the rest of her council to discuss this new development.

highlander211

24-09-2007, 21:17

The gates of Dunharrow were hastily secured, nothing but a broken plank of wood wedged behind them to give some temporary security. The three figures gathered on one side, the hunters become the prey, while the voices and cries of a band of Rohirrim split the night from outside the gate. Mareke looked towards her companions; Garag the oafish Uruk and Nasteesha the easterling woman, both tired, like she was, and injured from the hard fighting against the Dunharrow garrison. The Rohirrim captain had promised reinforcements, and they were gathering.
“Surrender, dogs” came the voice from the other side of the gate. “The orc will die, but you two others may yet live”
Garad and Nasteesha yelled back their defiance, while Mareke tuned her thoughts inwards to gather what strength she had left.

Not here…not now. I have not finished yet, father. I have not avenged you yet. If I will fall I will make you proud of your girl; I will make the daughters of Rohan weep.

A crash from the gate jolted her back to the present. They were almost through. She grasped her scimitar hard, and probed into her own mind once more.

Your wrath will fall on them, Master

The gate burst open and the Rohirrim ran through, strong and numerous. The others lifted their axes and ran towards them, Mareke began to pray, but the spearman was fast. She felt the heavy blow even through her armour, and at the cracking of a rib her mind failed her. There was no power of Melkor now, just pain as she stumbled back. The spearman was swiftly joined by two others and another heavy blow caught her in the back and she fell heavily down the steep slope. She slid for a short distance through the loose rocks and thorn bushes, came to a sudden halt as her head struck a boulder, and darkness overcame her.

Darkness. The comforting, all enveloping darkness. Father? Are you there? Nothing. But a presence was there, strong, and familiar somehow. In her mind it was here again, the great black wolf of her dreams and visions. Its burning red eyes looked straight through her

Pain was all around her. Her head was ringing and her vision obscured by blood. The sounds of battle were all around, the cries of the Rohirrim were stronger. Her eyes closed again.

The burning red eyes were there again, and then they were gone, and nothing but the darkness, ringing with the sounds of growls and snarls.

And screams. Of men; and not in her head. She raised her aching head up for a brief moment, and through the haze could make out a large, dark shape leaping over her, and then the pain took her again.

The bitter liquid forced into her mouth shook her from the dark. She turned over, retching, and looked up to see Nasteesha standing over her, her face pale and bloodied. She rose, unsteadily, to survey the scene. The Rohirrim were gone, dead but not by the axes of her companions. Limbs, heads, innards lay strewn around the gate, strong fighters torn apart. She wiped the last of the blood from her eyes, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

“Wolfmen” said Nasteesha, briefly, and with an edge to her voice. “Aye” Garag grunted, and pointed down the hill. Her mind raced as the other two were already giving chase down the hill, and she followed on behind them. The path wound down through the darkness and emerged in a clearing. All three of them stopped suddenly at what awaited them. She did not see the man at first; her attention was drawn to the two creatures prowling on the edge of the grass. The size of powerful men, but with the fur, heads and claws of wolves; their eyes burned in the darkness and their breathing came noisily. “Ancient ones…”she muttered, and then the darkly dressed man stepped forward from the shadows and smiled at her.

Garag grunted; Nasteesha withdrew a few paces and watched intently.

“Who are you?” Mareke began, heart racing and mouth dry.

Stupid question girl

“An ally, from the far south” the man replied. He gestured towards a small collection of bottles on the grass “A gift…consider them a downpayment. Something for your blades, the elves and Rohirrim will appreciate it, but the orc may need some help applying it” he continued in an amused tone.

“We kill all, need no help” roared Garag, before she could reply.

Blasted orc…Downpayment??? For what?

The wolf creatures continued their prowling, glancing at the group occasionally but otherwise ignoring them. “You…you bear the sign of the fang?” Mareke asked. The man swiftly drew a small fang shaped medallion from round his neck, just so she could see, then replaced it. “So…”she almost whispered “it is true.” The man smiled once again.

The sky continued to lighten, the dawn was bathed in red. Garag growled at the increased light, the man smiled, concentrated briefly and the group were shrouded in darkness once more. Garag grunted with satisfaction.
“Your assistance tonight was most welcome” Mareke continued “what is it that you wish, and can the Temple of the Master assist you?”
“I am here of my own will, all I desire is death. I need nothing from you.” A smile played his lips at these words, visible even in the darkness.

Nothing yet

The darkness was lessening. A swift word and they were enveloped in it again, sheltered against the dawn. And then the man and the creatures were gone. Nasteesha mumbled something about Isengard, and ran off down the hill. Mareke picked up the bottles, tossed two at Garag, keeping three for herself. “We need to be out of here” she said “The horsemen will return”. The pair turned and ran down the trail unimpeded. As they rejoined the main road, a single Rider of Rohan almost ran them down, galloping east at a furious pace. Garag roared and loosed an arrow at the rapidly receding horse, but the rider was gone. “The alarm is raised now…off the road and to Isengard as swiftly as we can” she commanded, hiding the nervousness as she scanned the road for more Riders, but there were none and the tired duo reached Isengard without further incident. She had little time for rest, and turned from the cavern at Isengard and the gathered group within, towards the stables. Her horse was swiftly made ready, she hauled herself into the saddle and rode hard into the Gap of Rohan, and on north towards the anchorage.

RavenMorothar

01-10-2007, 15:38

Leaning on one of the walls at the harbour she watched the ships leaving and returning form all sort of commissions.

Rhavaniel sighed, she was beginning to be restless, she had waited long enough it seemed. But she had left it in his hands to deal with, as it had always been. Perhaps if she broke the old rules and took care of it herself something might be happening.

She raised her gaze and looked to the seagulls circling a fishingboat.
She needed to go see Mareke too; she must have news on her mission now.

Rhavaniel sighed again and started to walk back to the centre of the humid city, leaving the harboursounds and saltwater behind her.

Dakota Strider

06-10-2007, 15:35

Rhavaniel and Ardamir found a quiet place overlooking our beautiful city's market central market. Future plans were discussed, for both personal and Temple related. Both left, seeming satisfied with the solutions agreed upon. While Rhavaniel, made preparations to travel back to check on the abbey, Ardamir sought out the High Priestess, and then made passage on a trip for Tharbad, to arrange a meeting with the Brotherhood.

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highlander211

10-10-2007, 18:29

Mareke prodded the cold remains of the campfire with a burnt stick, and wrapped her cloak around her to ward off the stinging spindrift and howling wind. She looked up at the towering peaks around her, and groaned at the dark leaden sky merging with the land, bringing the promise of more snow.
Damn I wish I was in Umbar, she thought,and not for the first time. But that was impossible yet. As cold as the moutains were the welcome in the Shrine would be colder if she returned empty handed. She checked through the backpack...three more days and then she would have to head back to Isengard and restock.
She stood slowly and looked around the cold dawn. Something was wrong, she thought, something mising. She lowered her hood and tried to listen, ignoring her frozen ears and numb fingers. No shadowy figures had been prowling round the campfire, sniffing and growling. No wolves. Odd. she shrugged to herself; they've found someone else to pester today, she thought, and packed up the camp quickly.
Chasing shadows...she muttered to herself and set off into the grey morning once more.

Dakota Strider

18-10-2007, 20:50

A few shots of the most recent meeting within the temple to our glorious lord.

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Lady Igraine

19-10-2007, 14:33

Great posts guys keep them coming and nice photos from our guild photographer. Once again you illustrate how MC is the greatest guild in Arda and the envy of all, and its all because of you guys. Well done ! I was considering an event for Sunday Oct 28th at 12 Noon EST , 5 pm GMT. Please let me know if this time does not work for you and if so what a better time might be, Saturday is also an option but not my first choice. Remember I am not a mind reader (though it often seems like it) and if you do not tell me what works for you, there is no one to blame but yourself for not being able to make the event and the hours of torture that will result from it.

P.S. A warm welcome to our newest addition Mareke, Mareke has already shown a high level of play and the great creativity we pride ourselves on and I look forward to seeing her evil grow.

Your Beloved High Priestess
Igraine

highlander211

27-10-2007, 21:04

The city was stirring in the early morning, and through the open window the noises of the street mingled with the call of the gulls wheeling over the harbour. The day was warm already, even at this hour and Mareke knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep. She slipped quiety out of the bed and dressed quickly, then leant over the slumbering figure still under the sheets. "I have to go" she whispered, and smiled as he opened a bleary eye and grunted before rolling over and drifting back to sleep. She slipped from the room shutting the door softly behind her and walked briskly downstairs into the bar, past the cleaning woman whose look of amusement she cut short with a piercing gaze. It was a short walk to the Shrine, and she made her way to the library, sat down at the desk with some paper and began to write.

Lady Igraine,
Regretfully I have been unable to meet you at the Shrine in person, but I have some progress that you should be aware of. I recently received word that a tribe of hillmen near Tharbad were wishing to send word to one calling himself the Wolf Lord. A group had gathered to carry out this mission, Brother Gunthar among them, and we were directed to a cave near the Falls of Rauros. Our journey was dogged by Rohirrim and we were observed by men in green who slipped into the woods before they could be taken care of. Once at Rauros, we were met by the man I had seen previously, and he took us to their commander, known as the Wold Lord, and who also gave his name as Fardor, and hails from the Far Harad. Once we had identified ourselves, he bade us welcome as allies; he was meeting with a group of hillmen leaders, and as well as his own men, a group of gauroth were also present in the cave.

Fardor is fermenting war between the hillmen tribes and Rohan, which he claims is desired by the hillmen, and he is aiding them in their preparations. He was willing to use his forces to draw our enemies away from where they may impede us, and I belive that we should agree to this if the opportunity arises. It transpired that the tribe we had been sent from were not loyal to him, and after our initial meeting we were attacked by a large group of Rohirrim. It is possible that they tracked us to the cave, but one of Fardor's men considered that some treachery had taken place, so we must be cautious in our dealings with him if his forces are infiltrated by the enemy.

Following the defeat of the Rohirrim, I attempted to communicate with two of the gauroth that were in the cave with us. I am convinced they understood me perfectly, but as they are incapable of speech I was unable to learn much of value. However, Gunthar and I met again with Fardor. He is the one who is arranging for the creation of the gauroth, through a ritual performed on men by shamans. He claims that they serve him through loyalty, but this form of ritual is not one I am familiar with. I suppose that the will of our Lord could be chanelled in this way; he mentioned a great dark power in death, that we would come to see, but no more than that. He is also creating a force of walking dead from the bodies of those who fall; each fallen warrior is tranformed through the use of a substance caleld Mur into two forms, a shambling corpse of considerable strength, and a creature of shadow.

Gunthar suggested to him that he may wish to meet with you, and he seemed to agree to this although he did not seem to attach any urgency to it. He did request that we provide him with further supplies of Mur; I would suggest that we agree to this, but invite him to the Shrine to receive it from you in person. He has given me the means to summon one of his messengers, so we will be able to send word to him at our convenience. Apart from the issue of betrayal, I did notice that Kang seemed uneasy about Fardor; I know he was wishing to see you, and I am shortly leaving for Tharbad to try and track him down.

On another issue, I have met with a scout who I have worked with previously, a man of Nurn called Lomi. He is a capable scout and willing enough to serve the cause of the Shrine; I have taken the liberty of agreeing to set up a meeting with him and Kora Rhavaniel so we can discuss what use he may be to us.

Your faithful servant
Mareke

She left the letter with the caretaker and headed to the docks.

Dakota Strider

28-10-2007, 18:47

Late scheduling of the event, but as we said there would be an MC gathering today, without a specific time, we finally have the event time finalized. With the current changes to GMT standard time, the wedding of Rhavaniel and Ardamir will commence at approximately 19:30 GMT, or 15:30 EST. Hope all available can make it.

RavenMorothar

11-11-2007, 17:36

She woke up from her own heartbeat. Everything was black, totally black. The sounds of water in the distant made her senses jump in motion. It was hard for her to breath. Whispers were heard.

“Hello!” she screamed out, but only her echo answered her with a twisted pitch.
Rhavaniel searched inside her, only whispers. Soft whispers of words she did not understand. It was like a lullaby.

[You must kill it]

She turned around as she always did when she didn’t expect the answer form her calls.

“Kill, what?” she answered, clutching her head between her hands from the strong answer over the whispers.

Something brushed her side and she pulled back. It made a scraping sound passing her on the other side. Two red eyes watched her form a few steps away and it made a gurgling sound.

Raven jumped to her feet and the knife was in her hand in the same instant. She got confused at the same time, what was up and down, so dark. The eyes were gone but something was still out there watching her.

[Kill it]

One whisper ‘qualmë‘ and the nail cut her in the cheek with a sting like burning metal. She screamed in pain.

Dakota Strider

11-11-2007, 18:58

Ardamir woke up lazily, as was his custome when secure in his home city. He rolled over and reached for the figure lying next to him, only to find the right side of the bed empty. Yawning, he sat up slowly, "Rhavan?"

Receiving no answer, he looked about the suite the two shared, but saw no signs that of his betrothed. Ardamir knocked on the door to the washroom, and the unlatched door opened at his touch, to show it was unoccuppied.

An uncomfortable feeling started to creep into his mind, and he quickly threw on some clothes, and headed down to the main room of the The Iron Anchor. He stopped the cleaning servant in the hauling and questioned her, but the woman claimed she had not seen the Khora leave the room. Ardamir hurried down the stairs and confronted Ador who was in his normal position behind the bar, cleaning up from the previous night's business. The grizzled tavernkeeper also claimed no knowledge of seeing Rhavaniel depart, and a quick interogation of the other employees that were about, also gave no satisfaction to the dark-haired bard.

Before heading out the door, he made a quick return to their suite, to grab his travelling pack, coin purse, and weapon. He tried to calm himself long enough to do a more careful search of the room, in case he had missed something that would indicate why Rhavan may have left. Not liking what he discovered, he hurried out of the inn.

Moving at a pace just short of a trot, Ardamir hurried south towards the center of Umbar. He stopped a couple guards he saw on patrol, and asked if any had seen anything, but of course, guards never saw anything. Reaching the doors of the palace, he didn't even acknowledge the soldiers posted at the massive doors, but barrelled through almost as quickly as they moved aside on recognizing the Shrine's Herald. He ignored the different courtiers and sycophants that greeted him, and made his way directly to the entrance to the Shrine. He paused long enough to question the Caretaker, and learning that not only had he not seen the Priestess Rhavaniel, but none of the other higher ranking members were present at the time.

Ardamir gave him an order to summon all the acolytes and temple workers that were available, and not absolutely elsewhere, and hurried then down to check to see if Rhavan had entered unseen, and was in her private place of prayer and contemplation. His search once again coming up empty, he went down to where the temple's staff had hurriedly assembled, and started giving them orders, to go to the gates and the docks of the city, to inquire about the missing Priestess, and to make it known that a 5000 gp reward would be paid to the ones that provided the information that would lead to her safe return to the temple. Others he sent to the markets and various stores, to question the various shopkeepers.

Trusting the temple's loyal servants to carry out the orders efficiently, Ardamir left to start making inquiries with the city's more "unsavory" citizens of the city. Having kept up his contacts in such places, he moved methodically from bar, to tavern to brothel, and other places where he had informants. Gold was powerful motivator for most, but he had other sorts of leverage, and he called in old debts where needed, to "encourage" haste in setting their minions into the search. Soon he hoped, to have Umbar turned inside out and uncover the whereabouts of his missing love.

Lady Igraine

11-11-2007, 20:38

Isolde walked the halls of the palace with purpose, glancing at the Eunuch as she strode by with her proud disciplined steps. Isolde gave a curt nod to the Caretaker as she eased open the double doors of the shrine she had come to call home.
As always she felt the warmth of the place where so many loved her, Melkor not least of all.The sweet odor of incense struck her as the dimly lit main chamber revealed itself. She respectfully added more to the brazier and inhaled the comforting aroma. Mother had called. It must be something urgent for her to have to leave her task of helping Mareke, Mothers newest protégé.
She looked herself over, her armour had been shined and revealed her exceptionally muscular form, her cloak was of the finest cloth, she looked stunning. She stepped to the room that was her mothers "office", the audience hall, and knocked.
"Enter" came Igriane's calm voice from within, and so she did.
Isolde looked to the throne that centered the room and where her mother held court, there sat Igraine in a simple black robe, the signs of lost sleep on her face.
" Isolde " Igraine said a warm smile forming on her face a she saw her only child." You made good time, excellent. Where is Mareke ? "
Isolde walked forward smiling at her mother, the woman she had longed for and had proved to be everything she had dreamed back when she was a prisoner in the Abby, another lifetime ago. She looked down at the smaller woman and considered she could probably snap her neck before she could call on her sorcery, so vulnerable she looked. Of course she would never do such a thing but it was still a fun thought.
" She is looking for the Wolf Lord as you commanded, I left word for her in Isenguard, I am sure she will follow soon. " she said coming forward and sitting at her mothers feet, leaning her back on the corner of her chair.
Igraine removed a gold brush from under her robes and slowly began to brush her daughters hair. The hair was a deep, rich, silky black and this ritual had come to please them both. Isolde relaxed as she could no where else enjoying the contact with her mother.
" Is something wrong mother ? " she asked.
" Rhavaniel is missing, a very upset Ardamir informed the staff a few days ago. She must be found, she would not go without word to me unless something is wrong ." the concern in her voice quite evident.
Isolde considered the implications of Aunty Aine's departure, she certainly gained nothing from this but maybe Aunty Moia did ?
" Where was she last seen Mother ? " she asked, the soldier in her beginning to take over.
" In the Iron Anchor here in the city. " Igraine answered. " He awoke and she was missing. " Igraine set the brush down and began to braid the back into a pony tail which Isolde could tuck away and not have impede her in a fight.
" You wish me to find her ? " Isolde was surprised , this was more a job for Aunty Moia.
" I wish everyone to find her, all else is to be dropped until we know what has happened. I do not care what has to be done to find out. " Igraine said with a commanding tone.
"Of course Mother" Isolde answered wondering if her mother loved Rhavaniel more than her. She knew her mother had wanted her to be a priestess but thought when Melkor had touched her it would be enough. She would never be High Priestess, but she was the Vizier's niece and was the envy of much of Umbar, surely her mother was proud of her ?
"Isolde, I want you to know that I am very pleased with your progress. " Igraine said seemingly reading her mind." Soon you will be presented to your uncle and you will give him the rod. "
" Thank you Mother " she devoured the rare praise hungrily.
" Tell me dear, when will you be ready to take Moia's place as my Champion ? " Igraine asked watching her face closely.
Isolde paused for a moment, stunned, this was a test, Mother still thought her soft.
" I could kill her now Mother if it pleases you " she said curious how such a fight would go, she was stronger than Moia now, and had Melkor's favor, but Moia was more skilled and had an uncommon hatred that made her quite formidable. She would not want to fight her, emotional reasons aside.
" No my dear, you won't harm Moia, not yet anyway. If I find she had a part in this however...." she let the phrase hang.
" Perhaps Aunty Aine was just nervous about the wedding ? " she suggested hopefully.
" You will find out. " Igraine said finished with her hair.
" Yes Mother. " Isolde said slowly rising, her plans of a warm bed and fine meal dashed.
Igraine slowly rose in front of her and gave her a firm embrace.
" I know you shall my dear, now run along. " Igraine said as if talking to a child.
Isolde kissed her mother and made her way to the Anchor, wondering "Where was Aunty Aine ?"

Nightspell

12-11-2007, 01:11

She often sat outside the Iron Anchor, just below their room window. They never knew ofcourse, her influance of death was to great for any to betray her bidding now. The hour was getting late and her nightly vigle quite tiresome. She often woundered if she should just get it over with and enter the room herself and kill the both of them in their sleep. But no, that was not her plan. She knew the others would come, the others she knew that would try to take that sweet glory from her. So she waited, knowing one night thoes who despised the union as much as she did would come for them.

She almost missed the shadows gliding accross the rooftops and through the streets. So entranced within her own hatred for the couple she almost missed them. Patiently watching, knowing she could not be seen. Her contact, the one she had paid a price to deal with had, nightly, enacted a charm upon her to conseal her from prying eyes, both physical and magical. Patiently waiting her turn, yet intregued with the possibilities that lay befor her. "Why should she not let them kill the two fools" she asked herself. There would be no questions to answer no blame to dodge. Why bother in the waiting at all. "Those two fools would never even know they were dead until they met Melkor face to face" the continued her thoughts.
Keeping a close eye on the shadows, she knew their destination. "Why not indeed?" a voice echoed within her mind. Moia's eyes widened with suprise. Sensing she knew who the voice belonged to she responded with her thoughts. "you know I can destroy them all", it was not a question but a statement of fact. There was no responce to that, confirming what she knew to be correct. "yet then why do you hesitate?" responded the voice. "You have the power, Melkor has blessed you with great gifts. Use them, make youself great." continued the voice. "I'll not be your pawn" responded Moia. "yet you are a pawn just the same. That one you secretely call your adoptive mother has played you for a fool and you know it." said the voice with great lothing when speaking of Moia's mentor within the temple. Moia could not contain her thoughts and they betrayed her. The owner of the voice could see her thoughts and feelings for Igraine and knew the truth of them. With a sigh of resignation, knowing this a battle she could never win, Moia responded "what would you have me do"? , "I would have you watch and follow but do not act, that is until I tell you" responded the voice.

Moia sat within the darkness that enveloped her and shielded her from view, she watched as the shadows swarmed arround the inn. Knowing she was powerless to go against the owner of the voice, she did not move. Not yet anyway. There was no sound, no rustling, no shout of alarm, nothing. Moia snorted with distain, "what a waste of an oppertunity of pure terror" she thought. The voice within her mind laughed. How evil that laugh was, very much akin to Moia's own heart conserning the couple. She watched as the shadows filtered out of the inn, through windows, doors, chimney and cracks in the walls. Four of the shadows inparticular came out together, carring a bundle of something that seemed as if it were a shadow as well but something more, not quite translucent.

"It is time, follow them" bade the voice. Moia gathered herself, stronger was she now in knowing that her feelings would not betray her again, not soon that is. Gathering her gear she began to wounder, as a smile crept accross her face, "What would Igraine think"? As she followed the shadows she began to laugh out loud. Any of the few citizens of Umbar that were about at that so late hour could hear that laugh. For many of them it chilled them to the bone, a chill very similar to death its self.

Nightspell

12-11-2007, 02:22

She followed the shadows out of the city. As she ran it was becoming clear to her that they were moving to fast for her to keep up. Even with the use of the potions she carried to enhance her speed the shadows were quickly fading into the distance. "I will aid you" said the voice. Moia cursed, she had thought the owner of the voice had left. She began to feel her self moving faster, the land around her becoming a blur. Moia concentrated upon the shadows ahead of her, she didn't want to lose sight of them. So fast was she moving she could not even notice the change in the landscape, nor where she was.
Moia blinked.
She had stopped moving, there was darkness all around her. Her weapons instantly found themselves in her hands. As she stood there within the darkness a sound softly echoed in the darkness. She listened carefully to it completely on her guard. She noted the faint sound of dripping water, though little else. She felt vulnerable, something that completely infuriated her. She could feel the anger, the surge of blood lust welling up within her, she knew that soon the blood lust would take over, Melkor would take over. She never heard the scream of hello. Attempting to calm herself she began to hum a soft tune, a lullaby her mother used to sing to her, though she had long forgotten some of the words to the song she well remembered the tune. Suddenly she noticed the rustling near by. She was not alone, she knew that for sure now. Her senses told her there were enemies near by when the voice in her head spoke to her again, "you must kill it". Moia heard more rustling and a familiar voice yell out "kill what"? The sound was loud within the darkness but Moia could discern the general direction from which it came. Just then, Moia felt her self compelled to rush forward, she brushed by something as she went. Connecting with something fleshy, Moia instinctively reached up with her short sword and slashed outward. Catching the figure before her as it fell, she turned around. The being she held let out a gurgling sound as it died. Moia closed her eyes trying to concentrate, she knew more adversaries were about and she need every ounce of concentration she could muster. She heard something move in front of her. The voice echoed within her head again "kill it" it said. Letting out a sigh so soft and measured Moia spoke a word she was not quite sure of the meaning to "qualmë" and lunged forward dropping the corps as she went. Moia thought to herself as she moved, "I am the bringer of darkness, death, and destruction". Moia did not connect with anything as she lunged out but she did hear a scream of pain. Over balanced in the darkness Moia instinctively went into a roll and took up a defensive crouch and waited. Nothing came.................

RavenMorothar

13-11-2007, 23:02

The blood on her cheek found its way down to her chin, the small drops of blood left the face and hit her hand, she couldn’t see it but she felt it.
“So be it,” she said, no longer lost, calm inside, filled with anger. She slowly stood up, from her crouching pose, in one motion. The same time searching deep inside her for every ounce of power, transforming it into rage all the way to her standing position to end it all in a perfect eruption of pure anger.

The area erupted in fire, starting from the centre of the source, engulfing everything on its way in a perfect circle around her. She screamed again, but not from pain, this was something unnatural, beastial.

[Good girl… good girl]

She swirled away in the energy that surrounded her, letting it fill her. The whispers were heard around her.

[Be one with me]

It suddenly stopped.

Exhausted she fell down on to her knees, and caught breath a few moments. The air was not like before, it was burning her lungs with sulphur and steam. She opened her eyes and was almost blinded by the melted stone around her. Sitting on an island in a sea of fire she relaxed. Nothing more then the natural sounds were heard, she was alone, she had reached one of her goals. The text from the ancient book danced in her mind, this was as close as she would come to her master. The voids fires cavort before her, the first part of the ritual was done.

She felt calm, knowing without doubt she was alone, she prayed to the lord for guidance. The figure of a lonely man came before her in her conscience, she reached out and touched his cheek. “Sleep dear, you will find me, you know where to look for me. Search in your heart.”

Dakota Strider

14-11-2007, 20:07

Ardamir groaned to himself, as he closed another time-worn text, and reached for the next from the pile at the end of the table. His own personal search for his beloved had moved from searching through the city, and the places in the countryside the two had spent together, to pouring through ancient tomes, hoping to find clues that may give him new hope of what happened. The hunt that still continued inside and outside the capitol of Umbar was in its third day, but now the minions were being pushed by the High Priestess's daughter, who seemed to be driven to locate her "Auntie" almost as strongly as the bard. He still demanded that reports be filtered back to him, and so there was an unsteady flow of couriers making their way up to his study within the shrine to give their reports, The lack of positive news did nothing to improve his mood, and all that arrived, left as quickly as possible.

Wearily, Ardamir opened the next book. He knew the clue he was concentrating on was a longshot, but it was the only thing that he could recall that seemed out of place, hours before he last saw Rhavaniel. She had uttered a single phrase, or possibly a word, that he would swear was in the ancient tongue of the hated elves. While he was fluent in Sindarin, after studying all he could to infiltrate his family's foes and their allies, he had never had opportunity to listen to the ancient Quenya that predated most languages on Arda. On rare occassions, he had read a few stray words of the ancient tongue, mixed in old passages of Sindarin. Anything written in Sindarin was rare and guarded in the capitol of the Numenoreans, and the ones he had gathered came from archives that were closed to almost all. Now he was reduced to trying to find that specific phrase of Quenya, and translation, which he knew was going to be next to impossible.

Rapidly scanning each line, and turning the pages quickly, Ardamir bemoaned to himself the lack of a suitable prisoner to interogate. While he normally found the practice of torture distasteful, personally, he would have conducted it himself, if he thought there was a chance it would help him locate Rhavan. But, it was a moot point, as elven prisoners of any type were rare, and the capture of one that was versed in their ancient language was rarer still. Not for the first time, the Herald uttered a prayer, beseeching Melkor to aid him in his search, somehow.

Eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, Ardamir closed them only for a moment, and replayed in his mind the last few hours he had spent with the Priestess he had pledged himself to. What seemed only seconds later he heard a knock, and he heard a servant speak through the door, "The High Priestess will see you now Herald." He raised his head from the table, realizng he had finally succumbed to sleep. Ardamir began to rise from his chair, to comply to Igraine's summons, but stopped when he saw the sharp, shiney black object sitting atop the open pages of the book he had been studying.

Ardamir looked about, but was sure noone had dared to enter unannounced. Before touching the translucent stone, he examined it closely. it was roughly the size of his fist, and and looked like it had been broken from a larger object. While it had many jagged edges, he realized that it most resembled the shape of a human heart. What surely must have been a trick of the shadows from the flickering candles, he thought he saw the heart pulse. Focusing on finding his connection to the source of his powers, he hummed a short bar, and the table was illuminated in a clear golden light. He murmered a quick prayer of thanks to Melkor for continuing to show him favor, and turned his attention back to the black, stone heart. Finally, he reached for it, but paused just as his fingers touched it. The shudder he felt, came to him like a shock...the same sensation he had felt somewhere before. As he lifted it off the page, he realized that the sharp edges had cut into the page it had been sitting on.

Something compelled him to look at the clean cut on the page, and his eyes widened. "Ana'aista' " was underlined. It was the word of Quenya he had heard Rhavaniel utter! Hurriedly, he read the Sindarin words about it, and was rewarded with a translation..."al achas". "Fear not!" he spoke outloud to himself in his home language. Standing up, he looked at the black stone in his hand with wonder. Only then, did he realize, that the sharp edges had cut his hand, and a trickle of blood ran down the face of the heart-shaped object. It was then he had another revelation, the blood pooled together into a lightly etched symbol, that had not been visible before. Excited, he continued to clutch the stone in his bloody hand, and grabbed the open tome, and rushed down to where his High Priestess was waiting.

Nightspell

15-11-2007, 02:12

Something began to glow in front of her. The light from the sphere grew suddenly to a blinding light. Moia dare to chance a look in its direction. Below the sphere that was quickly becoming a blinding light Moia saw someone standing there......

Kora Rhavaniel Morothar.

Just then, the sphere exploded.

Moia had never known such pain. The burning and melting of the stone and her flesh mad a sound that was quickly becoming one sound in her ears, that soon to would become nothing at all as those too were slowly melting away.
Suddenly it was all over, scorched and glowing rock surrounded her. There was no sign of Rhavaniel or the sphere. By all that Moia could now see, which was not very much, the explosion of the sphere had obliterated her. There was also no sign of the corpse that Moia had dispatched, or had she killed anyone? Did she even really see Rhavaniel at all and where was she? "I am with you," a booming and commanding voice said. The sound of it was beyond anything she had ever heard before, except for one time only. When she was touched by the consciousness of Melkor at her coronation of the council.
Barely able to see through her scorched face, Moia peered through the dim glow of the molten rock to look into the distance of her surroundings. As she began to slip from consciousness, Moia saw a figure off in the distance. It was a man in plain tattered robes. He looked dirty as if he had spent years upon the streets and docks of Umbar. His face was wrinkled, his eyes dull, the light that had once shone brightly there had been long lost to the ravages of a rugged city such as Umbar. He was just standing there looking at her, a look of bewilderment stamped upon his face.

Moia blinked.

It was all gone from around her, the glow of the molten rock replaced with the dull light of dawn slowly coming over the rooftops of the city. Umbar was starting to awaken.

Ingasto had come to the block surrounding the Iron Anchor in search of anything of value. He had heard of stories of things being found near the Iron Anchor and he had come early this morning to look. He had at least expected to find a few trinkets of value he could sell at the market, but what was now before him froze him in his tracks. The area behind the Iron Anchor did not look as if anything was missing, destroyed or misplaced, yet there was smoke about the place and it smelled of sulfur. If someone had seen it from a distance the area would have looked like a heavy fog but Ingasto knew that this was no fog, years of begging on the docks had taught him much of weather. He knew not what he was seeing but he did not want to stick around to find out.

Moia eyed the man, she knew, because of his darting eyes, he could not see her. Her enchantment to hide her from prying eyes was still in place. By the looks of him, Moia knew he was about to depart the area and quickly. As she tried to move she felt excruciating pain shoot through out her body. As she dared the pain to look at her body she quickly realized the events that she had thought she had dreamed were more than just that. Her body looked as if she were cooked in a bakers oven. Her armor, weapons, and other gear, though did not show any sign of having any damage other than the damage it had sustained from previous fights leading up to the night before. "what has happened to me" she thought to herself. She decided she needed to get to the temple. Knowing she was dieing, she had to keep this man from leaving, he was her only hope of survival. Daring against the doubts screaming in her mind, she enacted what would be needed to take her out of the concealment. Moia smiled, or tried to, as she watched the magical dart she had thrown embedded it's self into the mans calf.

Ingasto Let out a yelp reaching down to clutch his wounded leg. As he did so he saw her. Gasping in horror, the man tried to will himself to leave. To astonished by the view before him he could not will his legs to move. "Take me to the temple" Moia commanded of him. Not knowing if the man had heard her because of his dumb expression upon his face she commanded him again, using as much of her deadly tone as she could. The man began to slowly nod. "You will be well rewarded" she told him as he slowly and cautiously moved toward her. He dumbly nodded as he reached under her arm to help her to stand. She could feel the skin under her armor peel away and the warmth of her blood freely flowing down her side. Hurry, she commanded of him and he only continued to dumbly nod. "This has to be the most foolish man I have ever met", "Next to Ardamir" she thought to herself as she tried to laugh.

Moia was not laughing as she entered the temple, the pain of her wounds had her all but crying. Ingasto had lain her down upon a soft couch. "Find a priest, find Igraine" She commanded of him. He dumbly nodded and set off at once to scour the temple to find the one that Moia had commanded of him. "Why does he obey me" Moia thought to herself. The man could have easily killed me and took everything I possessed. She was pondering those thoughts as she passed out.

RavenMorothar

20-11-2007, 22:45

The vision of Ardamir slowly changed into a blur of colours. Another man took form, an old man in light armour with a scimitar hanging at his side. She could feel the salt water, the horizon coloured in an orange red mixture of beautiful tones. The boat made some creaking sounds when it slowly made its way through the water.
The man watched the view in silence, holding something in his hand. The sun reflected in a drop on his cheek and the sparkle made her stomach turn into a black hole. The man was crying, he put his fist on his forehead and a necklace was seen hanging from it.

Raven softly whispered, “Father?”

The man looked out over the sea again as if he heard something. He took the necklace and put it around his own neck. It was in silver, the Desert rose made with extreme precision, and every detail created with passion by one of the fines silver smiths from Umbar.

He took of his scimitar, an put it on the deck. Took the rose and looked at it, gave it a little kiss.
His words said to the setting sun, “Yes, Rhavaniel, I will come to you.” He took the last step into the water through the opening of the rail.

“NO!!” Rhavaniel tried to speed the steps to him but when trying to grab him, her hands just passed through him like a morning mist over the lake she came to love to watch so often when she was a child. “No, father no!” She stumbled and fell in the water after her father.

The entrance of the water made her wake from her trance. Her eyes wet from tears and she cried loudly. She slammed her fists into the stone knowing it would not do any good more then hurting her self. And the blood marks on the dark stone only gave a reminder of it. She curled up on her side for a while, not trying to stop her tears, even if she knew this was part of her test it hurt her deeply, almost as if someone had put a knife in her heart.

[I open the gate for you to walk, that path of truth before you lies]

Raven sat up and she cursed aloud in anger.

“Why, why did you do this to me”

Nothing was heard, and inside her she knew the answer already. She wiped away the tears from her eyes with her bloody knuckles leaving red marks on her face. Determination started to grow in her, she had spent too much time here, she needed to go on. She made a turn on the island of stone and noticed the round top part of a stump a feet or two from the edge. After that another one, and another, creating a path of cut logs standing in the sea of melted stone.

“So this is what you want me to do, then I will play your game.”

She slowly sat her foot on top of the log and it swung a little, but it was steady enough to hold her weight. The walk was slow and the island disappeared behind her after a while. It was hot and the swinging logs made her dizzy. More then once she almost fell into the boiling pulp. She walked on; it started to feel like an eternity, she didn’t know if it was minutes or days, as if time passed in a different way. How long had she been here, the thought touched her mind and she lost concentration for just a fraction of a second. The foot was not properly placed on the next log and she lost her balance, her arms tried to grab the air over her when she fell.

Dakota Strider

30-11-2007, 18:58

After his meeting with the High Priestess, Ardamir had reluctantly gone back to the room Rhavaniel and he shared. He did not bother to even remove his boots, but laid upon the bed and finally allowed his weariness to overtake him. The first thing he noticed when he awoke, was an ache in his right hand. He lifted it before him, and saw he was still gripping the dark stone he had found after he had last drifted off, and had thought he heard Rhavan speak to him. His hand had stopped bleeding, but was crusted with blood. Looking more closely at the stone, he was surprised to see that no blood seemed visible on its surface anymore. Glancing over to the light shining through the west-facing windowing, giving him an indication he had slept well past noon, he thought to carry the heart-shaped fragment over to look at it in the glow of the sun. Frowning slightly in puzzlement, he once again thought he glimpsed the stone pulse as if it was a heartbeat, and he thought he saw a hint of a ruby glow from the center of the translucent stone.

For some reason, he did not want to release the onyx heart. But, he would need his hands free for what he had decided to do. With regret, he tucked the stone into his tunic's pocket, under his vest, so it rested close to his own heart. This seemed to alleviate some of the guilt he felt for breaking contact with it.

The handsome Numenorean strode down the stairs into the main room of the Iron Anchor. The employees that spied him, quickly showed him signs of respect, and if possible, looked for reason to be elsewhere. Many of them had already felt his wrath since the disappearance of the priestess while under their roof. Ardamir barked an order to have his horse saddled and waiting for him, and one of the servants gladly scurried out of the inn to comply. Another ran back to the kitchen to quickly gather the food he demanded. A few minutes later he was on his way to the nearest gate, eating hungrily and not tasting, from the bag that had been prepared for him. As he expected, his horse was saddled and ready for him, when he reached the city's exit, the servant that held its reins was sweating profusely, and still panting heavily. Without a word to the man, Ardamir swung into the saddle and spurred the big black steed into the countryside.

He rode at a rapid pace throughout the afternoon, and into the early evening. The horse was in a lather when its rider finally allowed it to stop, near the hills that signified they were approaching the coast. Ardamir took the moment that was needed to take the bridle off the horse, and hung it from the saddle, and gave the horse no more attention, letting it see to its own needs. With determination, the bard strode toward the sound of the surf he could now hear.

Ardamir looked around him.... seeking solitude...the isolated cove, ringed by cliffs suited his purpose. The pre-midnight tide revealed a sandbar that he used to walk out to a small island, only several paces wide, and twice as long. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the black stone and grasps it closely in his hand again.

Standing still, he closed his mind to the surroundings, ignoring the breeze, and the gentle lapping of the waves on the small island he was on. For a moment, he feels the the faint pain in his right hand, letting him know that the onyx heart once again had drawn blood. But, soon he shuts that out as well, as he searches within him to find his inner focus and concentrates on that part of him that can reach outside of himself. That part of him that defined who he was...the part that allowed him to be "in tune" with Ainulindale...The Great Song.

Finding that light within him, he focuses on expanding it, until he "hears" the music, seeming to come from outside him, and from his core all at once. His inner self feels like it is growing, as it mixes with the song...soon he feels the powerful sensation as the wild and chaotic surge in the song, that first drew him to it (the part that he drew his power from, the part that changed him) touches him, and seems to recognize him. The bard allowed himself to bask in the power of this aspect of the music, letting it strengthen him, even as this wild and disharmonious melody seemed to take from him as well.

But, he only lingered in this for a moment...as this was not what he was seeking this day. Even though it was impossible for him to ignore the melodies, whose source was who he had pledged his allegiance to, he was able to listen to it, with only part of himself, as he continued to search through the Song.

Every creature, everything in creation had its own note each adding to the Song. Some stronger, some weaker though in comparison to Ainulindale as a whole, they all seemed insignificant. Still, in the state the bard was in, he was able to discern different threads of the music, and he quickly moved from strand to strand searching for the one he knew he would recognize.

Ardamir almost didn't recognize the note when he finally touched it....it seemed a faint echo of the vibrant and wild sensation he has always felt when he had been in contact with it in the past. But, it was still the same, although somehow not the same, a shadow of itself.

Unconsciously the bard opened his mouth to sing, but at first no audible sound came out. Slowing and building strength his trained voice went from tenor, to alto, to baritone, and then into a deep resonating bass. Still...no words were sung but a long continuous note, that somehow was matching the frequency of the note, his spirit self was focused upon within the Song.

Building in amplitude, he synchronized his song to match the note that he recognized as Rhavaniel. Ardamir could picture the thread of his own note wrap around hers, and support and strengthen it. All his being was focused on this one task.

He did not seem to notice his surroundings, his mind overriding the urges of his body. The crashing waves, and the cliffs drowned out his voice from escaping the cove. He was not aware of the passing of the hours, the sunlight on his face, or the chill of the evening breeze. The bard's only thoughts were on holding onto the one part of his love's essence he could touch, and to give her an anchor to draw on.

RavenMorothar

06-12-2007, 23:35

When her hands didn’t find any hold, when she thought she would fall into the boiling stone and die, it didn’t happen. She just continued. Further into a dream, deeper into nothingness. The darkness came rushing onto her again and she started to loose her preferences of what was up and down. She didn’t know how long she had been falling, time was not essential, time is a burden, her mind opened freely.

[Free yourself]

Something reached for her and she reached for it with her mind

[Free yourself]

She grabbed the string of hope with her will and pulled hard. It felt like she was going to burst into million pieces but she hold on grabbing the low tone that reached her, connecting to her soul, lingering through her body like a parasite infecting an animal for its own survivor. She screamed in agony but no sounds was heard, her hands and nails scratching her face as she felt the threads of the tone under her skin twitching her veins.

Rhavaniel freed herself.

The end was hard, slamming into the solid rock with all her weight. She tried to get up on her feet only to fall down still trying to get rid of something that was not there, eating her from the inside.

[Relax]

The voice calmed her slightly and she curled up once more breathing heavily, trying to focus her mind on the injuries that she had suffered. The taste of blood in her mouth and the pain through out her body made her realize that she needed to concentrate on herself.

“Damn you” she whined before she lost conscious.

Time passed again, or whatever time was in this place, wherever she was. A dreamless sleep was healing her, it was slow but the process was not like anything out of the ordinary. And when she finally opened her eyes the only thing that could show that she had been injured was the dried blood on her face from her scratching. Rhavaniel snatched to a sitting position tried to focus here eyes in the damp blue light that surrounded her. When getting her senses back she realized that she sat on a cliff with nothingness on one side and a great wall of stone on her other side. Small crystals created a spooky surrounding and made the shadows seem as if they were alive. She turned her head again and noticed the bowl on the stone; she reached for it and watched it.

[Clean yourself]

Rhavaniel put her fingers in the water and it turned slightly darker as the blood under her nails dissolved into it. She cleaned her face carefully as if it would hurt her, but it didn’t. Her thoughts tried to put the puzzle together, she thought of Igraine, Ard and Isolde, even Moia and Mareke flicker passed while she wary cleaned away the sings of battery.

Carefully setting the bowl down on the ground again she felt a sting in her heart, she had hurt someone, she knew it, but she didn’t know who. She had used her powers to free herself from something that tried to grab her. The tone made an echo in her head and she knew whom it was that had tried to reach her. She draw a breath in horror, but then tried to suppress her feelings, she needed to find what she was here for.

Slowly standing she looked around once more and saw the relief in the stone. The entrance was hardly seen, so delicate created in the wall of solid rock. She walked to it and her fingers played over the marking that outlined the door. A smile spread on her face, finally she was standing before what she was searching for. She slowly read the carved words, speaking them out loud as if she was talking to someone.

Dream catcher give me your hand
Dream catcher take my wishes
Dream catcher take my dreams
Dream catcher send me back to sleep
Dream catcher my only hope
Dream catcher can't you see
I'm in your world
Come and catch me.

The light flickered around her and the roar from the stone starting to move made the ground tremble and the bright light flowing from the crack made her place her hand before her eye.

Dakota Strider

13-12-2007, 21:27

He travelled through a mirage of colors and sounds, sometimes seeing shapes he recognized, but most often he flew by too quickly to be sure of what he was seeing. The only thing the bard was able to focus upon was the thin thread of the melody, that he could somehow see, and wrapped his own song around. He had no idea where this thread was, or where it was taking him, but it was his desire to hold on to wherever it would go.

Out of nowhere a large silhouette rushed towards him, and as Ardamir approached, he could see it was a tower. Even more details became apparent as the thread he was joined with sped onwards towards the scene. As if in a dream, he could see atop the tower in great detail, even though he still felt he was miles away. There was a man there of great bearing that was standing over something small, but of great power. Around this man, were others that seemed to be trying to protect him. Then the bard's attention was drawn to the bottom of the tower, where an army was attacking. He could "feel" the sounds of battle, and sense that a great bloodbath had already occurred.

Ardamir felt as if he was almost ontop of the scene, close enough to see the faces of the men atop the tower, when suddenly the panoramic scene went still. A hole in the sky seemed to open, and a flash of light turned the nighttime to a blinding white. With a loud crack that sounded like a glacier shattering, he saw something shatter into many small shards. Time seemed to slow and he could see the shards in detail as they flew through the air, pale dark pieces of stone or glass, reflected the light, but could not be looked through. The men atop the tower were vaporized by the power and heat of lightning and the power that was released in the explosion.

And then the crash of thunder was felt by the bard, as if it was a physical force that slammed against him again and again, its echoes reverberated repeatedly. "Free yourself," he heard amidst the thunder, althought he did not think it was directed at him. Ardamir felt himself being shook free from the thread he had been following for so long, and he struggled to maintain his contact with it, trying to raise his voice to counter the deafening thunder. Then he was smashed again, and he knew he was blacking out....the thread slipped away from him, and he felt himself falling, endlessly until he lost all conciousness.

****

The first thing he recalled as his senses returned, was the immense pain his body felt, from every extremity and deep within him. His eyes hurt, and did not want to open them. Then he realized he no longer heard the song, and opened his mouth to continue his singing...his throat felt as if it was on fire and no sound would come out. It was then he felt the empty void within his bosom which surpassed his physical hurts, and he collapsed from pain again.

Hours later, the waves lapping against his face finally awoke him again. With agony, he opened his eyes, and strained to push himself to his elbows. He could see the orange glow over the cliffs as the morning sun was approaching. Ardamir squinted as he looked around slowly. There was no indication of how long he had been in this spot, although he the dull ache in his stomach made him think it must have been at least two days. A larger wave fell over the large rock he was upon, and he fell a sharp burn in his right hand. The bard lifted his hand to look at it, and saw the the heart-shaped onyx stone still in his grasp. The saltwater had washed away any dried blood, but the lacerations still looked fresh.

Ardamir looked closely at the stone again and then recalled the last thing he saw before he lost his hold upon the Song. His eyes opened wider as a thought occurred to him, and from some reserve of energy, forced his near-broken body to its feet. He tucked the stone back into his vest pocket, afraid his damaged hand may drop it in the surf. As the morning tide filled the small bay hiding the sand bars he had used before, he had to wade through the water up to his waist to make it to the shore.

The journey back to the city was one of slow torment, but his new sense of purpose kept him on his feet. The bard gave a silent prayer of thanks to Melkor, when he was able to locate his horse along his path. He had feared the horse may have run off, or possibly been stolen by now, but the beast had only seemed to have wandered about a mile away from where its master had left him loose. While riding the horse helped little to ease the pain his body still felt, it hastened his arrival greatly.

Lady Igraine

17-12-2007, 23:45

This Sunday at Noon EST 5 pm GMT I will be holding court at the temple. If we have enough people turn up I would like to address the matter of Mareke's future and just have some fun before the holidays. This will likely be the only thing I do before the New Year when we will begin with regular events.
So if any player wishes to visit, ask favours, offer services etc this is the time. All members of MC are encouraged to be there, those that arent will be entered into a draw to see who must bathe Horse.

RavenMorothar

19-12-2007, 23:56

The light spread through out the area and the damp air that surrounded Rhavaniel made her shiver. The bright light slowly dimmed down into green-bluish tone coming form tiny fires, flickering from small alcoves in the wall, every 20th feet down a corridor. She took a small step into the corridor and took a deep breath. She was just as excited as nervous when she continued further in. A slight breeze of old air was sucked to the opening and made her clothes flap in its way. The path sloped up, at least that is what she thought it was, sometimes the small fires made a fizzing sound when she passed them. After a while a deep sound was heard behind her and the breeze stopped.

It suddenly got very cold and she halted for a moment to see if she could hear anything. Nothing was heard except the nervous sounds from the small fires. She continued.

After a while she reached another door, this one made form metal, copper she thought, or something similar. It had no handle or anything showing how to open it, but when she placed her hand on it, it opened as easily as if it had been in use every day for ages. The room that opened up was magnificent, never had she been in a place as big as this. The ceiling was covered with crystals that created beams that flowed down to the floor in different angles creating a light display in the thin mist that covered the room. It was relatively bright in here, a total contrast of the corridor she just came from.

The mist swirled around the pillars that looked like they were created from solid stone, creating a ghost like appearance. Whispers were heard once again, small whispers, echoing from different places.

Raven took some steps in and was surrounded by the mist; it was comfortably warm and touched her skin gently as she continued forth. At the other end of the room there was a height bathing in light when the crystals closest seemed to direct there beams to one single spot. The light seemed to disappear at that spot as if something was drawing the light to itself, eating it, two onyx-black crystal shards.

Rhavaniel was disappointed.
“Only two shards?”

She took the last steps closer to the shards, polished convex on one side and jagged and broken on the other side, they didn’t even seem to fit together. Raven pouted before she reached down to pick them up, she halted a second to think everything over before she finally places her hands around them. They cut through her skin like a razor sharp knife and the blood started to drip down on the stone table. Everything around her started to spin and the whispers heard clear in her head. Whispers of ancient times, people talking to each other about many things, it evolved into a crescendo starting to hurt her ears, and then suddenly everything stopped.

When she opened her eyes again everything was black, totally black. The sounds of water in the distant made her senses calm down and she knew she had been here before. The two stones in her hands vibrated just noticeable. She sat down to rest.

“They will find me now”, she thought, “I know they will.”

Nightspell

21-12-2007, 00:06

She awoke, lying upon a black alter of some sort. Her armor and other affects were nowhere in sight, thought her sight was quite limited yet. She notice that the only thing covering her was a plain sheet of silk. As she looked around the room, her sight slowly returning, she began to notice that she had been here before. It was a temple, and not just any temple but the temple of Melkor. "Am I to be sacrificed?" she thought. Quickly dismissing the notion as being absurd, she attempted to get up. She found that she could not move. Trying with all her, considerable, might she found the only thing she could move was her eyes. Scanning the room again, her eyes settled upon the far off entryway to the temple. Just as she did so, someone entered the temple. The person wore a black robe and walked with purposeful determination. Moia waited, knowing there was nothing she could do. As the robed individual approached, Moia could guess who it was. High Priestess Igraine pulled back the hood that covered her face from view. "Now we can finally begin". Moia looked into Igraine's eyes to try to get some sort of clue as to what was about to begin. Igraine made no movement that she even noticed that Moia was looking at her. Moia scanned her memories, trying to discover the reason for why she was where she was, there was nothing there as if a black void had swollowed her ever thought and memory. Igraine began to chant a prayer, her tone low and harsh at first. The chant was nothing that Moia had ever heard before, she had no idea what was about to happen. As Igraine continued her chant her voice began to get louder and her tone more insistent. Small globes of light appeared above Igraine and slowly swirled around her. Igraine was practically shouting now, completely lost within the chant. The globes of light had now changed to a deep red with a swirling black mist within them; they seemed to move faster with the ever-increasing volume of Igraine’s chant. Suddenly Igraine stopped chanting and the globes of light instantly stopped moving. They hung in the air for a split second before taking off like an arrow shot from a long bow towards Moia. They slammed into Moia’s prone body lying upon the alter. Moia screamed, or at least she thought she was screaming, with each successive impact, her body jolting violently with each hit. As the last globe of dark swirling light exploded into Moia, Igraine slumped to the floor next to the altar. There was silence; nothing could be heard besides the panting breath of Igraine, for the exertion of the prayer had exhausted her completely. Suddenly Moia gasped for air, her body moving under the silken sheet from the rising and falling of her chest. Moia opened her eyes. Moving her head to look at Igraine she noticed she could move, though very slowly and with great effort and pain.

Moia climbed down off the altar to sit next to Igraine. She looked at the woman for a moment trying to understand what had just happened. Then it all hit her, the memories came flooding back to her in a rush. Moia gasped with the sudden flood of visual images; a lifetime of violence and sadness, of pain and hate, of lost loved ones and betrayal. Everything, it was all there her whole life, a flash before her eyes to be implanted anew into her consciousness. All of the suppressed images, memories and pain fully visible for Moia to experience again. How would it shape her this time? Moia collapsed with the sheer volume of it all. Igraine looked over to her, newly revived from the dead, associate. “Now we will get some answers,” She thought to herself as she pulled herself up to stand next to the altar. Igraine slowly walked out of the temple thanking Melkor for his graces in aiding her to gather the strength for the prayer and to allow her the ability to revive Moia from the dead so that she could question her of what she knew and how it was she knew it.

As Igraine left the temple, she instructed the temple priests to gather Moia up and bring her to a chamber. She instructed them to restrain her for questioning but not to harm a hair upon her head. “These are Melkor’s wishes,” she said as she made her way to her private chambers to rest.

She would find out what she wanted to know one way or another.

Nightspell

21-12-2007, 00:43

Moia awoke in a room of meager comfort. Her body still ached with pain from any exertion she attempted. Eventually she was able to gather herself up to a sitting position. She had no doubt as to where she was or what had happened to her, but why she was in this room and shackled she had no answer to.

There was a plate of decent food near to her and she noticed that she was exceedingly hungry. Reaching for the food, which took great effort, she wondered if it would be safe to eat. Deciding she didn’t care and that the hunger within her would soon kill her if she didn’t eventually eat she grabbed the plate. The food did not taste the least bit odd so she decided it was not poisoned, “but then why should it have been?” she thought.

After finishing her meal, she sat pondering the recent events within her mind. She knew it must have been Igraine that had her placed within this room but why the shackles? The door swung open after what must have been a few hours that had gone by and a robed figure entered, it was the High Priestess Igraine. She stood there watching Moia for a few moments while standing in the doorway. Moia was getting rather impatient by this point so she decided to ask what was going on, but she was cut short. “What do you know of the disappearance of Priestess Rhavaniel?” asked Igraine in a tone that Moia knew the question was not debatable.

Moia recounted to Igraine all that she knew. Since her recent ordeal had completely refreshed her memory, each and every last detail was accounted for. Moia did not know if Igraine believed her, the look upon Igraine’s face showed little. Igraine nodded in response to what Moia had just relayed to her, and quietly walked out of the room. Moia heard the lock of the door being reset.

It was a few days later that a lesser priest came to the room Moia was staying in. He carried all of Moia’s things and placed them upon the floor. Tossing a set of keys to Moia, he quietly left the room leaving the door open. The pain in Moia’s body had subsided a little and so Moia went to the task of clothing herself and taking an account of her gear, it was all there. When she was finally finished, which had taken quite a long time, Moia left the room and began to head for the only place she knew would bring her comfort, the temple’s training room. She had to hone her muscles again and pray to Melkor the only way she knew how, through battle.

Many would soon die in the process of Moia’s prayers. Moia smiled at the thought of it as blood began to flow into her eyes removing all traces of white that was once there. Many would die indeed.

Lady Igraine

06-01-2008, 23:16

//OOC Alright , the New Year is here and it is time to tie up some loose ends and get on with the job off Destroying Gondor and our other enemies.

Next Sunday January 13 at 10 am EST (groan) 3 pm GMT we will commence with the wedding of Ardamir and Rhavaniel, all family and friends of the Church are welcome to attend.

at 2 pm EST , 7pm GMT we will have the promotion of Mareke to full member and Blade of Umbar.

A few words

I would like to thank all of you both old and new for the outstanding contributions you have all made to our Guild and our community. The reason we are the greatest guild in all of Arda is because of you. You continue to keep a high standard in play and conduct, to show your creativity in your play and on the forums and you have all made me very proud and honored to be part of all of this. I wish to thank each and everyone of you.

P.S. Those not able to attend either event will be given a disgusting task as punishment.

Love Igraine

Lady Igraine

11-01-2008, 21:08

Due to Dakota's computer issues we will postpone the event one week and go for the same times unless corrected, let me know if these times do not work for you.

Igraine

Lady Igraine

12-01-2008, 03:21

Ok, due to our date issues we are splitting the events , we will do Mareke's promotion this monday at 9 pm GMT or 4pm EST. I hope all of you can make it.

Igraine

RavenMorothar

17-01-2008, 18:09

Due to Dakota's computer issues we will postpone the event one week and go for the same times unless corrected, let me know if these times do not work for you.

What time can people be around on Sunday this or the next week?

I, myself, should be able to be around after 19 GMT both of them

Dakota Strider

19-01-2008, 02:58

What time can people be around on Sunday this or the next week?

I, myself, should be able to be around after 19 GMT both of them

That time works for me. I made it back from the Great White North, and will be looking forward to seeing everyone.

RavenMorothar

19-01-2008, 20:51

If nothing out of the ordinary happens Ardamirs commitment to Rhavaniel will take place tomorrow at (start time) 18-19 GMT... i hope all the Chosen and there friends can join.

//J :bounce:

RavenMorothar

16-02-2008, 15:39

A note is placed in comman MC areas and sent to everyone in the guild.

A meeting will take place one week after the next full moon, there are some urgent matters that is needed to be discussed.

Melkors servant and priestess
Kora Rhavaniel Morothar

OOC
I will schedule this for sunday the 17th of february at 8pm GMT. I hope someone can be there.

RavenMorothar

17-02-2008, 23:41

Due to a, not planed, meeting with a hospital and doctor, we will have to reschedule this to next weekend, what day would be best, saturday or sunday?

highlander211

28-02-2008, 10:13

No human eyes saw the hooded figure, clad in a simple, travelworn dark grey habit make its way steadily through the early morning mists and damp leaf litter that lay all around, its breath forming clouds in the damp morning air. It stopped every now and then to survey the woods, and seemingly to rest; to sharp eyes the figure was walking slightly stiffly, as if having only recently recovered form some injury. It seemed to know where it was headed, and turned unerringly along the twists and turns of the paths between the trees of the Chetwood. A noise throught he trees alerted it, the sound of axe striking wood, and under the hood a hint of a smile would have been visible. It turned to walk towards the sound, and shortly came out of the trees into a small clearing.

It took in the scene before it, and nodded briefly in satisfaction; it was as it had been on its previous visit. The small cabin; the piles of wood; the smell of woodsmoke from the chimney; and the busily labouring figure working his way through a large pile of logs. As before, an elderly looking horse was grazing near the cabin, and in the cabin doorway a young girl sat, playing with some offcast pieces of wood, turning them to whatever castles and far off lands that inhabitied the child's imagination.

The hooded figure flipped the hood back, and walked towards the cabin. The girl looked up, and jumped up with a broad smile.
"Papa - the healer is back!" she shouted
The woodcutter stopped his labours and turned to see the newcomer. He smiled at the woman who stood before him, noting however her more haggard and tired look than before, as well as a fading bruise on her tanned skin.
"It is good you have returned, healer Gilmith. The horse seems better since your last visit" he said somewhat hesitantly.
"And that is why I am here" Mareke replied with a warm smile. "I must check up on my patients after all. And your wife's fever?" She left the question hanging.
"A little better" he relied with a frown "But I am still concerned for her"
"You need worry no longer, I will go to her immeditely, and then see to your horse also. Carry on with your work, I will call you if I need anything. And little Annie here can help me" She looked at the little girl with a smile, who responded with a huge grin and leapt to her feet to follow the healer into the cabin.

Thoughts filled her mind as she walked through the door...This was the third day, he would be here later, and she must arouse no suspiscion until then in case of visitors, however unlikely that was from her observations of the cabin. She would take her time on the healing, more than necessary, but the peasants would not know that. And then she would act.

RavenMorothar

22-03-2008, 01:56

//Will try to have some sort of meeting for the MCs this Sunday around 8PM GMT, if you can make it it would be good =)

RavenMorothar

21-04-2008, 16:30

Rhavaniel was so angry when she returned to Umbar, finding the note from the messenger, so she had to throw the table upside down. The fools had lost the piece of stone, the shard, to a hobbit. She sat down furious clutching her teeth hard.

Not all was bad though, she had met some interesting new subjects on her trip and Kalmathzôr was to lay the oath to the dark lord.

Igraine had just left on her journey, so there was much to do. Many papers needed to be sign, people to set to work. She hoped the meeting between the herald, the second priestess and there associate in Tharbad was soon to be.

Ah yes she needed to send a letter to the House Krathas. Adopting one from that house into the shrine could be most benefiting. They are considered some of the most cultured and refined of the Numenors, they produce some of the best spies and political leaders.

She looked at the table that lay upside down and rubbed her temples.

“If only Moia was here.” She whispered to the mess on the floor.

RavenMorothar

06-05-2008, 10:34

High Priestess

Kora, Rhavaniel Morothar

Council of the Chosen

Kora, Moia- Champion -Tharbad Lt.
Ardimir - Herald of the chosen

Members/Blades

Kor, Zelerdor - High Sorcerer
Mareke - First priestess
Captain Irthan - Bloodfang Commander-Misty Mountain Lt.
Saibeth

Illyanna-Scribe-Laketown Lt. - to be considered as a renegade and should be brought to the council for explanation.

Initiates

Kalmathzôr
Raba
Ynzakhêr

Affiliates - To be watched with keen eyes

Isolde
Nuluphel Krathas

Bloodfangs

Horse-Sgt Major-First Orc-Chief Jailer
Gurg
Morgie
Hrowlf
Urruz-Sum

Agents

Shaheen
Kang

When/if Igraine returns from her trip she will retake the possition of high priestess if she so desire.

//If I have forgotten anyone please tell so I can keep this updated

the-small-print

20-05-2008, 18:46

"Damned traitorous filth!"

Raba spat and swore as he hobbled along on the long road back to Umbar. Was he the only man left in the world with any sense of loyalty? Was everyone foolish enough to take orders from any damned brigand in a hood, not even asking for any mark of authority?

What stung most was the betrayal, and each time he thought of it, a flash of blood-red mist seemed to cloak his eyes. Only loyalty, only loyalty! Damn them! They could keep their morals, play with their cunning and scheming, fiddle with their power until it choked them; only loyalty mattered. Devote yourself to a cause, and never waver, for anything, anything!

Damned foolish Uruk attacking him on the say so of an unnamed highwayman, stupid little wench with her head so far up her own backside that she could see her own damned teeth. And she wants to be part of the Chosen? She has no respect at all, no idea of the devotion required, the detachment and sweet, focused rage; cold, calculating thought that could bring an army of thousands to its knees with a well-placed knife. Everyone has a weakness, and she spent so much time preening and polishing her beloved family name that she would never understand....

I'll see each of them skinned and crucifed, damn them!

Raba kicked a stone and swore violently.

And that wench of a smith, she was the worst. Presuming to waylay him. Ready to attack the Dark Lord's most worthy followers simply so that fat arse in the palace with his curly shoes and his dozen oiled castrati waving their fans at him would give her a pat on the head for being a good lap-dog. Thinking that he would become hers out of simple fear of death? Pah!

She had wits, though, which made her worse. She knew to threaten the Kora's lover first. But Rhavaniel had more guile than that. Loyalty and respect for rank can overcome anything. Damn your beloved if the alternative is to break your word. Skin your own children before giving up the fight. That is what the fools cannot understand!

That is what I understand!

Brindisium

21-05-2008, 14:45

Nuluphel locks the door to her room in the Iron Anchor. After carefully neutralising the contact poison on a sharp pin underneath the latch, she opens the sealed canister. The scroll bears the seal of the Circle. Eyes widening she reads...

By the hand of Lady Tanzira Krathas, Malakeh of the House of Krathas, High Sorcerer of the Tenth Circle

In the name of the Dark Lord :: May he be exalted by human sacrifice, and parents' tears

You are to be commended. Continue your work, become a disciple of the order you describe. Seizing political power is fundamental to our strategy so seek out the controlling elite and strengthen your ties with them. I may decide to allow your first bedding to bless this new alliance - provided a high ranking male can be found who has not been castrated. Should the Dark Lord favour the union, you will honour him with your first-born.

The Circle meets again in 28 days time, I will instruct you further then.

Do not fail me,
Lady Tanzira

Hands shaking she touches a corner of the parchment to a candle, as it burns to ash her mind is a maelstrom of excitement, revulsion, desire for power and terrible heart stopping f e a r.

the-small-print

22-05-2008, 00:18

Raba smirked as he sat in the Anchor with the two ladies, occasionally sipping from his drink between penning a report to the Guards Captain of Umbar at the Vizier's office.

"Sir, this evening, whilst off duty, having returned from an overseas task I observed the killing of several citizens of Umbar by an olog named Vrugzrk, allowed by his superior, the Uruk who names itself Garag. The attacks were unprovoked and appeared to be for sport. They were preceded by the killing and eating of a sailor, though in this case the man appeared to have attacked the olog, for reasons known best to himself.

I called for the city guard and gave chase myself, but the duo escaped onto a ship bound for tharbad, and as a temple guard my jurisdiction technically stops at the limits of the city, which does not include docked vessels. Equally, with no city guards present, I did not feel it wise to attempt to fight the two of them at once.

The attacks were witnessed by several citizens, notably Mareke, priestess of the Shrine, and Nuluphel of House Krathas. I would recommend immediate banishment of the perpetrators, to be enforced by summary execution if either are seen within the limits of the city again, and wish to express my regret that I was not able to do more to stop them.

Respectfully yours,

Raba Kadar Abârazra, Captain of the Umbar Temple Guard, Associate of the Guild of Managed Labour and Associated Trade."

Raba grinned and signed the report extravagantly. He had been so hoping that the brainless, traitorous filth would try something in his city.

highlander211

27-05-2008, 10:42

The shadows danced round the walls of the room as Mareke lit the last of five red candles, and placed them around her on the floor. No distractions in this room, a wooden single bed with a thinning straw mattress, a rough wooden table and chair which wobbled on the dusty wooden floor. She had closed the shutters over the window, blocking out the full moon that lit the deserted night-time streets of southern Tharbad. She kneeled slowly in the centre of the candles, lit a small brazier onto which she threw a handful of Haradan herbs. She closed her eyes, and inhaled the pungent fumes which she knew would aid her in turning her mind inwards.

The comforting darkness enveloped her, and in her mind’s eye she rose from her kneeling form and felt herself flying, back through time and to a place that once had been. The movement stopped, and she envisaged herself in a hall, a vast soaring place of endless pillars and dark, impenetrable shadows. The pillars formed a central aisle, and she walked down this slowly, all sounds deadened but for her footfalls and the spluttering of endless torches placed on the pillars. Shapes and figures darted around the edge of her vision, but remained unseen and unknown. She felt comfort here, and strength; it was where she often wandered in her mind to find answers, but this time she felt some unease, a forewarning somehow that something different awaited her.

She walked on, tirelessly and endlessly, regaining her thoughts and strength, until her progress was halted. Directly in front of her was a black stone altar, and draped supine on the altar was a figure, familiar and yet changed. Illyana was bound hand and foot in chains to the altar, her fine hair matted with blood as she turned her head to face Mareke with gaping empty eye sockets and uttering unintelligible noises from her tongue-less mouth, waiting for a death that would bring no release.

“You see what you wish for” the voice came from all around her, the same voice that had always spoken to her, but now seemed so much closer.
“I do Lord” Mareke replied, her gaze not leaving the wreck of the sorceress before her.
“You have felt her power already Priestess…and were found wanting.”
“I know. Next time I will be prepared”
“As will she. Your actions were rash Priestess. You could have ensared her”
Mareke flushed, knowing the truth in the accusation, and back in the room her body twitched violently.
“The one who is stronger will win” the voice continued, “The outcome is not foreseen, and that is how I wish it to be”
The figure on the altar groaned once more and Mareke watched numbly as the hair darkened, and the features shifted until it was no longer Illyana lying before her but Isolde.
“You like her ambition, Priestess” the voice sounded almost amused “You, who despises mortal thrones and gold crowns would have a friend on the throne of Umbar…yet you see how that could benefit you. But you have known of this for some time and told nobody. Her treason is yours also. If you fail against the sorceress…” The words were left hanging as the figure of Isolde struggled weakly against the chains, and then as Mareke watched it changed once more, the skin darkening until she looked at herself lying awaiting her fate.
“There is much you need to do, Priestess”

The altar vanished then, leaving her standing alone among the forest of pillars. She felt herself being flung backwards violently and she awoke several hours later, slumped against the wall of the small room, her head throbbing from both the incense and the impact against the wall. She stood slowly, and stepped round the extinguished candles. Sunlight was trickling through the shutters now, but she did not open them as she paced the room, lost in thought.

Nolëtáro

28-05-2008, 17:19

The last rays of the sun hit the peak of the tallest ruin of Eregion. To Ynzakhêr, that always marked the hour to begin his vigil of the remainder of the ruins. Ever since he had been finally released from service in Isengard, he had acquired more time to comply with the orders left for him by Igraine. Orders that I loathe. Why do I keep listening to that simpering fool... why do I suffer the other idiots...

And then he remembered. He had to serve Melkor's Chosen, those were the orders. He had been toying with the idea of joining a Brotherhood, but it was past him when he was presented to the Chosen. The group had such promise... such promise... now all I see are the scattered remains of a wisdom that should be there. He had begun an apprentice, still decyphering the mysteries of how to alter the Song to his favour. The sacred art of sorcery was demanding, required a willpower and strength of imagination uncommon in most, even those who drew strength from the faith put in the Dark Lord. They could wield weapons. Crude sticks, sharpened or not, it mattered not to him. His art was more sacred than any prayer, more potent than any battle-cry, more terrifying to behold than the monstrosities of the orcs.They are false prophets, all of them... fools praying to the Void that is their empty minds. Mareke, Igraine, the accursed stupidity and self-righteousness of Moia, the lot of them. Melkor is chained, his feet and hands cut, defeated by the loathsome Valar and deprived of his strength. The weakling has wasted it. Our Lord Sauron is the strongest now.

He came out of the depths of the main ruin, one step at a time, dragging his heavy black cloak behind him. He was covered from head to toe in black, not a spot of skin left uncovered, his garbs a jail for his body. He reeked of putrefaction, both his own and that of the corpses below. He no longer noticed such smells. Blood, life, death... those are what I smell now. This was a moonless night. His favourite. But something was different... he could smell something, a smell he had not sensed for some time in those dark ruins; He sniffed, and his gaze turned to the general direction of the sound of a horse's hooves pounding the land with hasty steps.

The sounds halted, not too far from where he was standing. Clouds were beginning to cover the night sky, a storm brewing in the limits of the world. The sound of boot on earth was painfully audible. And then he saw him. The man passed a ruin, and he was left uncovered, his self now under scrutiny of Ynzakhêr. He was wearing black as well, but upon the chest of his tabard was the sickening White Tree of Gondor. Ynzakhêr could tell he was wearing steel beneath the tabard; the sound of ring against ring was all too familiar. He wore naught but a simple hood, the lower face barely visible to the normal eye. Used to the darkness as he was, Ynzakhêr could see; He was brimming with life and youth, and long brown (or was it blond?) hair. Gondorian filth, traitorous louts... what does this fool want...

-Speak your name and purpose... - he began, but he was interrupted as he took a step back, hastening a mailed hand to his nose. - By all that is good, you reek!

Oh, he will be entertaining...

-Is it, truly? - Ynzakhêr asked, in a defiant tone, walking slowly around his mark. - It matters not... and you have no jurisdiction here, Gondorian. Only steel... and a sword...

-That is correct, a sword! - He drew it. - And I will run you through where you stand if you answer not and in honesty!

Arrogance and prepotence. Gondorians will never change... why, he reminds me of Moia...

The two stood, silent, walking in a neat circle, observing each other. In the distance, the horse cried out as a bolt of lightning hit a nearby tree.

-Do not be foolish, child... why should I answer to you, of all forms of life in this world? Let us be more ... polite. Speak yours first ...

-Who are you to speak to me of morality? You refused to answer, and I a-a-asked first! - the man was beginning to faulter where he stood, his voice was stuttering. How I love these moments.

-Says the one who is pointing a sword at me ... lower it, child.

-No!

-Do it.

-No!

-This will lead you nowhere ... you know not what you face ... you are not in the Pelennor, boy ...

The man charged, and halfway through the distance that parted him from Ynzakhêr, he halted, as the black-clad figure chanted in such an unnatural, grotesque and horrible tongue it hurt his ears just by hearing it. A ghostly figure appeared in mid-air, and it tossed itself onto his face in a hug. He fell, dead.

If only that was Moia...

He did not know why he hated Moia so much. He was in the Chosen longer, he thought, but would that truly be the case? For her to have risen so quickly over the months... talent? Skill? He refused to believe it. This child was more disciplined than her. I have the most talent, I have the most cunning, I wield the sacred arts! That simpering fool deserves nothing!

He neared the corpse, and observed the now uncovered face of the boy. A mere child... probably in his twenties, without having ever seen a worthy foe. He has probably hunted orcs, and thought anyone else would be of the same stupidity... he thought, and gave out a laugh. The young man was carrying something more than his weapon, however... he observed the satchel he had with him, and opened it. Inside... a missive. He read but its front. A message to the elf-haven near here, for certain... this will be an interesting read.

He returned inside. The crows would deal with the corpse, and crows thrived in the area. For now, he had something to do beyond studying the bones of the dead and preparing his departure from that place.

RavenMorothar

03-06-2008, 15:42

When Ardamir left the room she tried to rest, but she could not. She only lay there watching the ceiling. A strange feeling bubbled inside her and she could not decipher it. It all started when she returned from the land of dreams. Yes, she loved Ardamir but still she hated him after that. As if her feelings were divided into two.

Rhavaniel turned to watch the wall.

She felt her sleeping, resting the anger out of her system.

Rhavaniel blinked once to clear her thoughts. A sting of pride struck her when her thoughts drifted to Mareke instead of her feelings, she showed so much strength when taking the punishment in such away she did and pride in Moia the way she preformed the punishment in a swift and strong way.

She turned to watch the small candle on the desk in her room and said a small word, the candle went out.

In the darkness she could still hear him call for her. The damn stone, why did he show me that power, she thought. She closed her eyes, but did not know if they were still open. She grinned the same way that Moia did before her thoughts changed into a distant dreamless state of non sleeping.

Dakota Strider

05-06-2008, 19:49

Standing near the prow of the ship, the dark-haired man shielded his eyes to the setting sun, as he looked across the horizon. To his right, was a shoreline that he was starting to recognize, but his eyes still searched in vain for the spires of his home city. After long minutes, he lowered his hand and shook his head sadly. This whole trip had made little sense, and he was anxious for its end, and to return to where he was really needed.

It was just over three months before, when Ardamir had been disturbed at the inn he normally stayed at, when his wife was out of the city on business, as she often was. He had been taking his meal downstairs at his private table, when the retinue from the Vizier's court arrived, a courrier accompanied by four men-at-arms. It was not a man that Ardamir had seen in the court before, however he had the correct uniform and documents. The bard was politely commanded that his service was required.

The story the Shrine's Herald was told, was that it was an "important" diplomatic mission to the Council of Seven Regents in distant Bozisha-Dar, and there was no time to spare. Apparently some type of sudden illness had struck down the ambassador who was supposed to attend to this affair. Ardamir's past success in Esgaroth, as well his rank of nobility had made him the logical choice to replace him.

Ardamir had been given enough time to grab some belongings from his room, and to scrawl a quick letter to the acting High Priestess of his departure. He had wished to go to the shrine himself to deliver the note to one the shrine's staff, but the courrier insisted that there was no time, as the ship needed to depart now to catch the evening tide. Since there was none from the Shrine currently in Umbar that he needed to speak to, Ardamir chose not to argue, and allowed the court officer to take the letter on assurance it would be delivered promptly. Inside, he had seethed at having to be at the beck and call of the Vizier. However, the rank of Kor that had bestowed on him, was not an empty title, and service to his country had been expected. Since this did not seem to conflict with the interests of the Chosen, he had submitted without argument.

The voyage to the southern edge of Far Harad had taken several weeks. It had given him time to write many letters to his wife, and to apologize for not being there, when she returned from the Abbey. He wrote to her daily, and by the time they had docked in the sunbaked Southerner port, he had a large bundle of letters to hand to ship's captain. The man promised him, delivering them to the temple would be his first priority when arriving back in Umbar.

The ship departed back to the north the next day. But it took several days for the caravan the bard was to travel with to start its trek inland, to the oasis city which was where he could complete his mission. The Umbar agents in the port town, had shown some surprise at one of the city's nobles arriving to undertake this task, but he did not make an issue of it then. When arriving in Bozisha-Dar after the week long journey across the barren land, he was struck by the same reaction at the Umbar embassy. At least he was treated with the respect he deserved, by the surprised staff.

But it was not long before his patience started to wear thin. The "important" council he needed to attend, was not for another two weeks. Ardamir steamed at having to spend so much time in this barbarian city. He wondered at what the issue was to rush him out of town in such haste, when he would be forced to wait a fortnight for the regents of the Seven Tribes to arrive. Another five days in Umbar, and he would have been able to see Rhavan on her return, and would have improved his mood on this trip greatly.

Instead, he was forced to attend diplomatic parties that were supposedly held in his honor. Normally he would have probably enjoyed such events, but he kept seeing more and more signs that his time was being wasted, as the people of this province seemed to treat those from Umbar with respect, and some fear. He wrote as much in the correspondence he sent back to the High Priestess. Ardamir was starting to become just a little worried as well, that he had received no letters back from her, in almost two months.

When the Council finally met, Ardamir was again surprised by how well he was received. He expected some resistance to the demands of fealty he was supposed to reinforce with this visit, but none of the regents objected, and practically fell over each other to assure him that all of their vows and treaties of the past would continue to be honored. Again, he privately wondered why he was required for this mission, there was no need for diplomacy. The Seven Regents were firmly under the control of Umbar, and he had seen no sign of rebellion.

After five days of this, he had enough. Ardamir had the embassy staff start making arrangements for his departure before the Council was scheduled to end. Those that ran the embassy effort's were hastened by their desire to be rid of the Herald, whose mood had worsened the longer he stayed. Still he was delayed for several more days before he was travelling west towards the coast.

On his arrival to the port, he was again frustrated to learn that he had missed an Umbar warship by two days. No other ships suitable to make the journey arrived for over a week. When one did, he used his rank to bully the captain to leave almost immediately, only giving them one day to drop their cargo and take on supplies. The ship was not the fastest, but it would be heading in the right direction.

So it was now after almost a dozen weeks of his journey, just as the sun was turning firey red on the horizon, when he caught the reflection of its rays against the gilded tops of Umbar's watch towers, that guarded the entrance to the harbor. The dark-haired Numenorean smiled to himself, for what felt like the first time in months, knowing this night, he would arrive home and see his long time companion and wife.

It was close to midnight when the ship finally docked. Ardamir made haste down the gang plank, as soon as it was lowered, and made his way to the shortcut to the Shrine, not caring to have to go through the palace first. His heart dropped when he arrived at Rhavaniel's quarters, and realized that she was not there. He roused the staff to learn of her whereabouts, and learned she had departed to the Tharbad region. He immediately got them moving, to arrange his own departure the next day. Resigned that it would still be longer before seeing his beloved, he layed down alone, barely sleeping.

The next morning, he only delayed at the palace long enough to drop off his written report, deciding that questions could wait until later. Sailing north on the swift Pindar, he was sure it would not be long before he would be with Rhavan again. He had many agents in the region of Tharbad, he was sure he would have little trouble finding her, regardless of where she went.

With nothing else obstructing his path, it was only several weeks later when he was riding his black steed through the crumbling ruins to the north of Swanfleet. He caught sight of Rhavaniel, in her armor along with some of the lower ranking members of the shrine and his heart leapt in joy. The bard hastened to her, with a smile upon his face...but paused in his tracks as he saw her cold stare at him. They greeted each other cordially, but he could not get a word from her in private until long after he travelled with her and the others for many long hours through dark and secret passages under the nearby mountain.

He approached her as they prepared to rest for a short while, expecting her to drop her aura of command she maintained around the others. Her whispered words stung him with an accusation, "You could have written to me Ardamir."

highlander211

15-06-2008, 23:48

The familiar figure was lurking in a doorway just off the main street in Tharbad's East District. They nodded discreetly at each other."Find a place we can talk in private" the herald whispered to Mareke, "You have been prepared about who we will meet?". She nodded to him as they walked through the streets, hardly noticing the gathering rainclouds and sinking sun. "One of the Nine, you have said already" she said quietly, as they walked out to one of the riverdock piers. He warned her of the likely interest the dead queen would have in her; the Chosen were not there to submit to the will of the Brotherhood, but their authority in Tharbad was likewise not to be challenged. The Herald's conviciton that they both served the same master was comforting to her, in some way, but she thought with some annoyance that she was not the one that needed to be told that.

Their whispered conversation was halted as they both became aware of a small boy sauntering up towards them. A street urchin, blonde dirty hair and mucky rags hanging off his small frame. He watched the two of them with bright, interested eyes, and the they smiled and chatted briefly with him. Ardmair tried to charm some answers out of the boy regarding who he was looking for, but both sides remained noncommital and they gave their assumed names, which seemed to elicit a startling change in the boy, his hands suddenly hanging limp and his eyes rolling back into his head. A deep, unnatural voice that no human child could make came forth from his mouth "I have been waiting for you. Visit me, this vessel will lead you". They looked impassively at the child, "We will follow", Ardmair replied, and the child jerked,blinked and smiled at them as if nothing had happened. "Take us, child, We are the ones you seek," continued Ardmair. The child beamed and babbled excitedly about receiving an apple as a reward, and led them off through the now dark streets at a surprisingly brisk pace. The rain had started to fall heavily, and no attention was paid to them as the boy led them through a maze of quiet streets, until they were both a
bit lost, inspite of their familiarity with the city.The boy eventually ran up a flight of steps into a building, followed by Ardmair and then Mareke.

Mareke looked around, at first uncertain this was the right place, that some joke was being played. The orphanage..she smiled slyly as the realisiation this was the right place began to sink in, the decpetion appealing to her enormously. A dark clad man emerged from the room next the hall, a strength and agility easily discerable in his movements. He threw down two blindfolds, with a curt instruction to put them on, which they did with resignation, and were led fumbling through several rooms, and eventually down some stairs. The air became damp and the reek of sewage and decay filled their nostrils as they continued to follow the man, unil he paused, rapped some code on a door, which opened and they followed him through.

"You can take them off now. Someone will be with you shortly". With that, the man walked off down a corridor, leaving them in the company of a hulking brute of a guard sitting quietly on a stool, eyeing them closely. They strolled away from him, casually looking into a series of display cases filled with items purloined from Gondor and Rohan. The halls they were in were well constructed and lavishly decorated, and they continued to wait. They were met again, this time by an elegantly bearded man, who apologised for the necessity of the blindfolds, and asked if there was anything that they required before the meeting. "Thank you, no. We do not wish to keep your leader waiting" replied Ardmair politely, as Mareke began to fume impatiently at the endless succession of lackeys they were encountering, but she smiled graciously at the man, keeping her thoughts to herself. The man led them finally into a side room furnished with a long table, with large comfortable chairs on each side and a tall throne at its head. "Please sit, My Lord, Priestess, she will be with you soon." They both sat, Ardmair to the right of the throne, Mareke to his right, and she looked around with curiosity "I never knew all this was here" she whispered "And this is only what they wish us to see" he replied quietly, "and there are others who would be more surprised even than we."

As they whispered, an old man shuffled quietly in, and sat down opposite them. They nodded and smiled politely at him, and he eyes them greedily "Ul-Brazim of Umbar" he announced. His skin was pale and gaunt, but he seemed quite sprightly nonetheless. Ardmair thought a moment, Mareke glanced at him, on uncertain ground for her with old families of Umbar. "There was one of that name, long before I was born, " Ardmair broke his silence, "He was an old man even then" and he leaned forward to rest on his elbows and examine the old man more closely. The old man smiled in return, inviting him to continue. "An old aquaintance of the former Queen?"Ardmair continued. "I knew her..when she was young. How is she?" "I would think you know better than I" Ardmair replied neutrally, and Ul-Brazim reached out to try and touch something on the table, but seeing his hand tremble he withdrew it quickly. The conversation wore on, Ul-Brazim eventually admitting to being a master of ancient lore and dark secrets. "The things I could teach you" he said "But the Mistress would not wish it. The cost is too much." And he eyed Ardmair hungrily. "The darkness consumes all, the knowldge brings life. Many tomes open before an eye that sees all; the Darkness shows ways that were once lost.... or forbidden. But, for now...these ways shall remain for a chosen few." He ignored Ardmair's question about the choice of who is chosen, and placed an ancient tome on the table, and began to read it. They both leaned over the table to see what it was, and both recognised the ancient language it was written in, and a hint of the dark practices it was describing.

As he seemed to become absorbed in the book, a chill and intense darkness fell upon the room; they both froze, alert and ready, as an unearthly deep hiss came from the direction of the throne. They peered into the darkness, trying to make out any shape within it, and both stood and bowed to the throne as the dark robed figure sitting there shose to reveal itself. It looked round those sitting at the table,a mailed fist clutched the arm of the throne and bade them to sit in its quiet deathly voice."Wwhaat briingss you here?"
"The Chosen have plans in Tharbad" offered Ardmair, as Mareke sat back watchfully, content to leave the negotiation to one of the Council. She suppressed a smile nonetheless, to have come from bowing and running to the Black Easterling's bidding to sitting in the presence of another of the Nine and meeting it in such discussion...she snapped her mind back to the igure on the throne, Ardmair's warning still in her mind."We do not move against the Brotherhood, in fact our actions should benefit your brethren," continued Ardmair, "but, we did not wish to act without informing you." "Go onnn".

"The Silverswords has long been a source of....discomfort for the High Priestess.We have decided the time is now, to wipe them
from Arda." The Nazgul nodded almost imperceptably "and what...do you...plan to do?" "We shall invade their tower, and kill all within...we have some knowledge of their defenses and secret routes, we shall hunt down all loyal to the Silverswords that we can find, and then....we shall leave the city to you, as it is now." The dark figure nodded again, and voiced doubt at the feasability of storming the Silversword tower. "What would you suggest, Lady Adunaphel?" "We have.. wayss.." Mareke blinked...she had agreed to support their plan, and was offering to aid them. The Eye must approve, she thought, as the Nine do nothing without his assent, and she smiled slyly to herself.

"An enemy defeated.. is not as good as an enemy .. anihilated" continued Adunaphel, "Do not waste your effort storming.. the doors. Keep your men.. hidden outside the towers.. let them capture any who escape. Send a few in from below..Drive the worthless rats from their holes...Clear.. from the bottom to the top.. then none shall escape. You speak of being able to draw powers.. greater than an army. Use them... on those that oppose you. And do it when they are all gathered..They often have great meetings, when the lesser peons are shown humility and granted a higher station. It is normally with the new moon. I can organise for the 'guards' to be busy elsewhere; someone will guide your force through the sewers" And so it was agreed. The fate of the tower building itself would be decided later, and was of secondary importance. "We make preparations already, " said Ardmair "and care little for spoils, only the greater glory of Melkor." Adunpahel stood, and they both did likewise, and watched as she rested a hand on Ul-Brazim's, and it sank slowly into his shoulder, making the old man, still engrossed in his book, quiver, and she turned to leave. They left the room, and were met by the guide who had met them in the halls; they politely refused his offer of hospitality and were once more blindfolded and led out through damp tunnels for what seemed like an eternity, until they emerged, blinking at the light, near Tharbad's south gate.

"We shall meet here again at the next new moon Priestess, bring with you only those you can trust. No outsiders." Ardmair whispered urgently to her, eager to be on the road, but his mood was bright as he turned to leave "Soon, this scar will finally heal, I cannot wait to see her face, when it is finished." "It will be swiftly done" she replied, and the herald gave a slight bow of the head, and departed for the South.