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Re: These Snow Laden Hills. [open] by Mosswyn
[April 29, 2021, 01:48:46 AM]

Re: Mutual Secrets by Friór
[April 20, 2021, 02:10:38 PM]

Re: Through the Storm by Gard of Lake-town
[April 13, 2021, 09:25:23 PM]

Re: Through the Storm by Ivriniel
[April 05, 2021, 02:59:22 AM]

Re: From Little Seeds Grow Mighty Trees by Ivriniel
[April 04, 2021, 07:04:35 AM]

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Further Afield / Re: These Snow Laden Hills. [open]
« Last post by Mosswyn on April 29, 2021, 01:48:46 AM »
Ivo wasn’t long. Mosswyn had no idea how long she had been standing in the hall staring at the rising sun. The thoughts that crossed her mind were how rich the owner had to be, and that he was probably the only physician in town - which would explain the extravagance of the shop. She looked up at Ivo as he handled the bandages delicately, and balanced a couple of glass bottles in the other. Mosswyn reached for the bottles, taking them into her arms and turning towards the door. Ivo reached the doors first and held them open as she passed through. Together they went back to the inn, and again Ivo held the door open for her.

Ivo! Where have you been?” Came a soft voice. Mosswyn turned her attention to a frail woman with her black hair pulled back, a stern look on her face. When the woman saw what they were carrying, a hint of a smile formed, “Your father has been looking for you all morning, go and see him in the stables as soon as you are able.” And without waiting for a reply she passed them going into the dinning hall. Ivo nodded for Mosswyn to continue going up the stairs, and a moment later she was back in the room with the strange man, looking over his bandages and checking his wounds. “They are terrible…” she muttered, dipping a cloth into a bowl of cold water and gently cleaned the edges, grateful that at least the bleeding had stopped. Whatever weapon had been used must have been terrible! Maybe the man had come in contact with one of the orc parties coming through?

Erm, if I need you again, Ivo, I can ask for you at the desk?” Mosswyn turned, biting the inside of her lip, her fingers rubbing together out of habit - she did not like asking for help if she could avoid it, but Ivo nodded and left, leaving the door open. She turned attention back to her patient. His breathing was steady, that was good. Sighing, Mosswyn began gathering up the old bandages…

Three days passed, and still the man had not stirred. She had done her best to pour warm broth down his throat, aided by Ivo, who had proved very helpful. He had taken the bandages from her and had cleaned them himself, helped her tend to the man’s horse (as well as her own), and had said very little while she felt like she talked just about everything under the sun! He did not seem to mind, his face always neutral, or smiling when she would try to say something funny; Mosswyn couldn’t help liking him.

Sitting by the man’s bedside, though, the moonlight coming through the well lit room, Mosswyn sat in a chair and chewed her bottom lip. She was running out of funds to pay the innkeeper, and had already overstayed. She was past due to her next location, but until she knew the man would recover, or at least come out of his coma, she couldn’t leave him. Mosswyn sat forward putting her head in her hands, “Good sir, I wish you would wake!” She let one of her arms drape over her knee, “Or make a face, or just something so I know you’re doing better.” She stared at the man’s unmoving face, frustration mounting. She sighed, letting her other arm down and hung her head, closing her eyes.

She had just been about to doze when the door opened and she jerked her head up to see Ivo coming through the door with a tray of food. Mosswyn couldn’t help but smile. It was a sweet gesture, and he set the tray down on the empty table where the water basin would normally be, and joined her over by the bed, looking at the man who did not stirr. “You should eat something.” Mosswyn’s attention snapped to, and she looked Ivo square in the face. She could feel herself blush slightly as her stomach agreed with him almost immediately. Had she truly not touched a thing all day? She slid her glance to the tray of food, and noticed for the first time that there was a little flower sticking out of a vase. She was sure she blushed a little more, “Thank you, Ivo, very much. I’ll eat it shortly.” To which her stomach protested loudly, but she ignored it, and turned back to the man on the bed.
Mosswyn,” her head turned sharply to look up at him, that was the first time she had heard him use her name, “You must eat, I don’t think he will go anywhere without your knowledge.” He smiled kindly, and Mosswyn let her eyes drift to the tray of food. It looked like soup, and there was a bit of bread, and something on the other side of the tray she could not make out because it was covered with a napkin. Mosswyn sighed, shaking her head, “Now you sound like my father.” Which was meant endearingly, but when she looked up at Ivo, he was looking away from her, his brow furrowed. Immediate regret stung her, and she reached out touching his arm, “No, no! It’s not a bad thing… my father would tell me the same thing when one of our horses was ill, and I simply would not leave the stable, so he would bring me my food so I could watch over the horse … and … eat… The flower is lovely…

Getting up and taking the chair over to the table, Mosswyn sat and turned her attention to the soup. She didn’t know if it made him feel better, she didn’t bother to look back at him as she took the napkin. “Oh!” Under the napkin resting on a plate was a bun coated in honey. The warm scent of cinnamon swept up into her nose, and she smiled wide as it brought back childhood memories - as honey buns always did when she passed a stall. “Thank you, Ivo, It looks delicious, and I can’t wait to try dessert!” She already had her spoon in hand, and Ivo smiled kindly back before exiting, closing the door behind him without another word. Her smile faded, and she looked mournfully at the soup, hoping that she had not hurt Ivo’s feelings, not after he had been kind enough to bring her food.

Sighing - she was getting very tired of doing that - she picked up the spoon and had just put it into the thin liquid when a small sound came from the direction of the bed. Mosswyn turned her head sharply, and saw the man’s head turn to one side, and his chest heave. Immediately she ran for the door! “Ivo! Ivo, come quickly,” She was down the hall and shouting down the stair, ignoring the protests of people saying they were trying to get some rest. Ivo’s dark head was in view not moments later, “He’s awake!
Once Upon a Time / Re: Mutual Secrets
« Last post by Friór on April 20, 2021, 02:10:38 PM »
Fred still couldn't explain what it was about the older youth before him, but as well as that odd trust in him, he also found he believed him. Further surprising, since he should be more used to people lying to him, or those of his household, including the drifting irregular relationships of his mother or aunts. So, after nodding a Yes to that Intern question, Fred was actually further surprised and pleased to hear that the older teen was also an Intern!

"Really?!", he asked, though, again, he already believed him. He grinned then looked unsure again as the other went on. The focus on his needs wasn't completely new, he received similar from Mr. Errol as well, part of his gravitating towards him also, but it was further touching from this one also.

In fact that first fact was what would help them. Fred spoke after the pause.

"But Mr. Errol trusts I wouldn't do anything I shouldn't, that's my boss, I was gonna say...", he explained with a small smile. He had let the other's mention of Mr. Errol go earlier, but probably would have had to come clean anyway, now, and with how interested he couldn't help looking at the story. Not just any client of Mr. Errol's. Sayers.

Fred still didn't really know the man, but he'd seen enough with his trying to gain his mother's attention to feel sorry when hearing Mr. Sayers had a daughter.

"No!", he encouraged as the other said to forget it, "Please, what does she need?". He then realized he should further explain now, and after showing that sort of interest. "I--I don't know her", he went on, "I...hardly know him, thankfully, but...he's dating my mum". Fred grimaced as he said it, and said it like it was some mistake on his end that would drop the other's view of him.

Maybe it was just the lying. Dating was far too firm of a term to use for how his mother tended to run her relationships, but at any rate!

"And their both no good, or I know my mum is, and...from what you've said...", Fred glanced aside and then back, "I want to help her too". He thought a moment or two more, "Come on", he then suddenly said, motioning the older teen to follow him and all but sprinted back down the hall, back towards Mr. Errol's office. "I think we can do better than blank forms", he commented a bit on what he was thinking as he waited by Mr. Errol's door and once the other to caught up, before turning the knob and pushing it open once more.
First Time / Rein of Apes-Site
« Last post by nightshade on April 18, 2021, 07:45:29 PM »
Dale / Re: Through the Storm
« Last post by Gard of Lake-town on April 13, 2021, 09:25:23 PM »
The Elf's answer was a bit brief, but then what was there to say? So much bad had happened. He was about to rush to explain that he and his cousins and uncle had still escaped alive; more than could be said for some families now, and due to just everything of the attack and subsequent fire. The loss of home also had hit upon Gard since then, of course, and yet it wasn't the prospect of Dale that made him not concerned.

Of course Gard would love to see it built up, partly for the sake of the old tales his mother would tell him on it. Half made up from tales herself, she, Uncle Bard, even their own father hadn't been alive when it was a city before, and were all distant relations of Girion after all. That also had just astounded him, that Thorin had been alive during the attack, and due to Dwarves long lived ages. But Gard couldn't overly worry over what would happen next because he knew his family would get through it as they always had. Together.

Over the years (that he was aware of anyway) they'd lost first his Aunt Rania before even both Gard's parents and then, after he'd come to live with his Uncle Bard, their grandmother. But all five of them left still had each-other and...Gard couldn't imagine what Bain or Sigrid would do if they lost their father, so he couldn't imagine it would actually be allowed to happen.

It didn't keep the worrying thoughts at bay, he just kept coming back to this perhaps flimsy answer not based on anything, really, but which he couldn't shake.

So he smiled a small bit, over the perhaps one good thing in all this as he answered her next question. "Yeah, we made it out, thanks to two of your own kin, um, the Prince and...Tauriel, that was her name", Gard was sorry to have almost forgotten it and after the help she gave. He felt bad enough not recalling the Elf Prince's name.

Something made him go on in giving credit (and his own uncle's grand one aside but in that one moment even) "The oldest Dwarf Prince too, Fíli, even with his brother sick he helped where he could and helped me and my cousins escape, and so that's why I have to believe they...the Dwarves won't stay holed up in the mountain forever", part of Gard's hope for the morrow came spilling out a bit unasked for but flowing from the question.

But he realized suddenly he might be giving too much information.

He looked, not so much sorry or ashamed, but unsure, "It...was my family that hid them for a bit, when they came into Lake Town, or the part of the River Running near it". It wasn't a full secret anymore, and guessed if not said, ever since the Dwarves were common knowledge, and he wasn't sure if the Elves cared about the inner politics of the hiding of the Dwarves and such, and now that it was all sort of moot.

"That's why the Orcs came I think, and only bothered us", Gard went on. So much for trying to hold that they weren't trouble...

"But we didn't know what they wanted--that they aimed for the mountain, and that it was Thorin Oakenshield and his Company--or Uncle Bard never would have I don't think. He...he knew what the old poem really meant, about the lake...burning. I...I thought it was just...clever wording for good things". The Elf got a distracted naming of his family, and stating he was related to the one to have killed the dragon, if they knew that by now; probably the only way she would have received such.

Gard was proud, in the way of family, but not surprised. His uncle had always been a great shot, and the one to have taught him any of his own held archery skills which were still under that kind of level but not bad.

The boy had spilled some of these inner thoughts to Master Baggins, and speaking of which, and the Hobbit's plan of getting back to the Dwarves, if he could keep the Elven sentries' eyes from scanning the mountain too close maybe he could aid that. Not for real danger, but best not make them scan closely.

With something that, more than being a distraction, couldn't be over stated, and maybe needed to be stated again if he'd injured feelings praising the Dwarves and seeming to forget; "But of course, Tauriel and the Prince's actions aside, we'd all be lost if you hadn't come. If we haven't thanked you enough for all the help in our time of need, allow me to thank you again", he nodded.
Dale / Re: Through the Storm
« Last post by Ivriniel on April 05, 2021, 02:59:22 AM »
Her heartrate quickened for a second—orcs—and her attention snapped to the boy in full.  His reply was a bit alarming, briefly noting the attack on him and his family.  Ivriniel bit back the urge to bombard him with a thousand questions right then.  The dragon, that much was obvious, but no word of an orc attack in Lake-town had reached her ears.  She wanted the details, partly for her own curiosity, but also out of higher curiosity for the guard to be made aware of, in sinking suspicion that this orc attack had originated closer to home.

Those orcs that had passed through Mirkwood, in hunt of the Dwarves…  Ivriniel had been there, chasing after them at the river.  If it were not coincidence that the Dwarves had been through Lake-town, then why would orcs bother troubling themselves to sneak across the water?  Were they from the same pack?  And at a time so forebodingly close to the dragon's attack…

Though the existence of orcs and their hunt through Mirkwood was none of her and her kin's doing, there was a sinking guilt as well as tugs of resentment Ivriniel had against the upper chain of command, as of late, bewildered why she and the rest of the guard were not allowed to chase after and eradicate the rest of the orc pack right then, from escaping.  For if they had, then… perhaps these orcs might not have attacked Lake-town and hurt more innocents.

"I see," she said quietly, glancing off to the side in serious contemplation. She might have to raise word of this to her fellow archers, to keep a sharper lookout around the Mountain, rather than on it, if orcs were on the prowl.  She could sense the boy's fear and hesitance in bringing up the subject, and she did not wish to frighten or grieve him further by expanding on it and his family's attack.

Though why would she care about sparing feelings, if war would not discriminate?  Still, something heartfelt prompted her to ask:

"And your family is… alright?"

Concern etched on her brow, trying to word it gently without outright asking if anyone was hurt.  "Attack", especially in the orc sense, was usually synonymous with death.  If the boy were an orphan…  Terrible, yes. She hated the feeling of being helpless to, well, help the poor boy. But what could she do? And really, why should she care? 

Just another mortal.  Her conscience was warning her not to get too close.  Just another mortal…
Roleplaying Extras / Re: From Little Seeds Grow Mighty Trees
« Last post by Ivriniel on April 04, 2021, 06:23:18 AM »

There is Life | Alison Krauss
Life is Beautiful | Vega4
Bloom | Dabin
Constellate | Fleurie
When Man Meets God | Nathan Wagner
We Could Be Stars | Andreas Kübler
Don't Wanna Fall | Seven Lions
Immortal Flame | Katy Perry
Dale / Re: Through the Storm
« Last post by Gard of Lake-town on March 28, 2021, 02:03:40 PM »
Gard watched the Elf even as he answered, as much as he could given the distance and dark night, trying to see both if she believed him and how she took his words. She seemed...thoughtful perhaps. She didn't further lecture him, which was good. He waited.

Her response came by way of asking for clarification on who he meant. Oh...right...

They might not know, though it seemed obvious to Gard. Still he glanced about, as if to make sure he was alone before he spoke the dreaded word. Like it might call the horrid beings, having to work a bit to make the word audible. "Orcs...",  though he spoke loud enough to be heard, there was hesitant almost whisper to his pitching also. Gard swallowed and went on.

"I guess I'm afraid that...well they...some attacked my family earlier, with me with them. Before the dragon", or during really; it was all a jumble of horrible really.

"I...I guess I thought they might have followed or...still be there".

But the Elves on the wall did seem calm.

What happened to that hope of his? The one that saw that old tale and song about the King Under the Mountain as a good thing, Shine and Burn could mean so much, and only now did Gard see it in the context his uncle had all along no doubt, and with his (very justified as shown) worry over the dragon.

Just believing him dead had been too easy and even before, Gard had known this.

Gard hadn't been like those others of Lake Town, most of the other adults, who expected literal gold from the Dwarves' trip, but he also hadn't expected either dragon or any of the following trouble. Not that he could lose his hope in Thorin's Company to ultimately do right (he sort of answered his own rhetorical question in realizing) and after having just seen Mr. Baggins heading off to try to help all of that. Proving, if he needed it, that the Hobbit at least hadn't deserted them.

But Gard also knew he was keeping it secret that the Hobbit had left, and to help that. So maybe he shouldn't make the Elves scan the horizon, but he already trusted that Master Baggins was safely away. He glanced back up to the Elf on her perch, waiting on her verdict on the Orcs, yes, but also, and even now, curious enough to not end a talk with an Elf himself and continue it as long as she would at any rate, knowing she was busy guarding them and all.
Mirkwood / Re: Make My Day
« Last post by Ivriniel on March 23, 2021, 12:59:02 PM »
Scooting along on her stomach, too focused on reaching the hilt to process the spiders incoming (and would rather not glance behind her to stare her impending doom in the eyes), Ivriniel barely registered the Elf who had dropped in beside her, catching only the glimpse of his boot that had kicked her knife towards her.  If she was anything in a relaxed state of mind, Ivriniel might have been a little confused by the Elf's remark and let out a retort right then.  He sounded as if she—he—they?—had a chance of surviving this.

"Ivriniel," she snapped back, snatching the knife and rolling onto her back to get a better view of her… The full extent of "rescuer" didn't pop into her head, but "comrade" did. If they weren't on the same side, then the Elf wouldn't have bothered helping her fetch her weapon.  Her curt reply didn't come from a place of offendedness or correction at having been called "girl". Merely, if they were going to be working together, calling each other by name might help them be more efficient.  She looked to him urgently. "You?"

Too late. The Elf had already sped off in a blur, too engaged with the spiders to be able to respond. Not like he seemed that interested in paying much attention to her, anyways.  She was still on her own.  He might have held back the front line a little to prevent her from being eaten right away, but there was only so much a single Elf could do before the numbers overwhelmed and slipped around to snag their defenseless morsel.  If Ivriniel didn't get her butt up and moving, she might as well be deserving of death right then and there, for being too slow and a weakling.  As tired and faint as she was, to the point of a dream state… Lack of consciousness seemed to eradicate those fears of death and questioning odds of success, ignoring the screams of her physical body as it threatened to let go of this world.  She couldn't give up now.  What would happen to the other Elf?  He was fighting to save her.  She couldn't abandon him.

Mustering her strength against her bonds, hastily, Ivriniel cut through the webs encasing her body, swinging her blade and dodging a few spiders' legs as her own broke through the cocoon and she scrambled to her feet.  The webs were stubborn to let go, a nuisance and a tripping hazard, clinging to her tunic and boots, and it was a work-in-progress trying to rid herself of them, clipping at the sticky mess while attempting to evade and stab at spiders. 

When she finally cleaned herself off enough to regain full range of motion of her legs and arms again, Ivriniel whipped her head around, trying to spot the other Elf in the midst of the black swarm.  Her first thought was to try and regroup with him, moreso with her strength fading, uncertain of how much longer she could hold her own. Yet reason cautioned her from doing so immediately.  Sure, together they might be stronger back-to-back, but they would also be a more concentrated target, rather than splitting the swarm apart.

But now that the spiders had a new, fresh, larger and stronger foe to contend with, the other Elf seemed to be drawing greater attention anyway, granting Ivriniel even a few moments of space to catch her breath.  Locking onto the swarm's focal point, she saw him.  Wide-eyed and mesmerized by his whirlwind of glinting metal.  He was a one man army, swift and ferocious, and as a few spiders were deterred from "liveliness" of the big meal to instead pick on the smaller one, Ivriniel gripped her hilt tighter and braced her stance, subconsciously inspired to mimic the other Elf's method as she unleashed all the strength and fury she could upon her enemies. In poor resemblance, lacking the muscle and weightier sword to do so.

Sweat and blood poured down her face. Her arms burned from fighting that seemed to stretch on for eons.  The longer Ivriniel kept her eye on the other Elf, the more worry and confusion furrowed upon her brow. Along with a tick of annoyance.

All right, she was "safe" now.  Did he come for her or the spiders?

She searched for a sign, anticipating the other Elf's retreat, but found none.  And the swarm did not seem to be dwindling in number, though maybe size, with younger pawns flocking in to aid the more mature ones from being felled too quickly by this new Elf.  Unless if one of the Ainur had descended down to help her, Ivriniel feared her "teammate" was likely to get himself killed as well.

She had to catch his attention somehow.  For all she knew, he might not even be aware that she was still alive, since he had last kicked her weapon towards her and then immediately jumped in to tackle the spiders.

Leaping across the branches, Ivriniel would drop down next to him, landing on one of the spiders with a plunge of her knife through the beast's head.  Nodding in the other Elf's direction with a pant of expelled force as she finished off her kill with a twist.

"After you!"  She shouted above the fray, leaping down and lingering nearby a moment longer to ensure he had caught her words, while turning her attention to repel another spider.

With that, Ivriniel had pretty much announced her defeat of being able to lead the way out, resigning to follow after the other Elf whose confidence was palpable that he had better clue than she did of where they were and where to go from here.

Please don't keep us here any longer, a gleam of desperation in her eyes begged him.

Forget about her sake, though that would've been nice for the other Elf to consider on their way out, if Ivriniel could even keep up with him.  What was her worth to the army, after all?  But to lose a far stronger and more formidable warrior as himself due to his own bloodlust would be… tragic.
Mirkwood / Re: Back to Your Roots
« Last post by Pellavan on March 16, 2021, 04:27:54 PM »
Pellavan giggled at Ivy's answer about going way back with the deer. "Oh, I'm sure it is!", he answered, "I've found if animals still let you come around them, then they like you, well enough anyway". He could sympathize with Ivy (and had) but the rest of his family and his uncle seemed great enough in that while playing host, they didn't write Ivy and her animal sympathies off, or didn't seem to.

He was struck with his own question on if his cousin had any pets among the deer, and like he had in one special terrier, but talk of the market took over. It didn't sound like a bad plan, exactly, a tour around the town and market, and really anything that allowed him to get to know his family more, but if Pellavan was honest a romp through the forest did sound much more appealing still.

There would still be time for it though, he was sure. Maybe with Ivy even!

"That sounds great!", Meara and Chandrelle both said, and helping move past Ivy's personal preferences. The subject of animals and eating them or not had come up before with Pellavan so they were used to it to some extent, but not their brother's all out refusing. Though it was shown Ivy wasn't all out refusing either.

"It's quite alright", Vestele gave her niece a kind smile, not wanting her to feel bad for just sticking to her convictions.

Fish seemed an agreeable choice all around, Laeorn even offering to go fishing later. Meara and Chandrelle glanced at each-other then back at him. "We'll stick with the market, thank-you", Meara said, and not to fall into the category of typical girls, they still smiled gratefully at the offer.

This made Pel think maybe he should help his second cousin out a bit, "I'll come help, you can' with the fish helps". Not that the animals he had encountered, the mammals, ever talked back, but they seemed to understand and it was a distinct difference.

Maybe for this, probably for her own curiosity, Ivy asked if he hunted. "No", Pellavan admitted, "but then I'm still young so I wouldn't go myself and...also it being awkward to help out a hawk or fawn one week and then go hunting next". This was only part of the answer, and his slight pause seemed normal enough but he actually steered the conversation from mentioning that since his father had sailed there weren't many to hunt with. His mother and sisters weren't really into it, though again, that wasn't all of it.

 "Plus, Nárë's not a hunting dog, or not really", he added, before realizing she wouldn't know who he meant. He gave a small smile as he explained.

"Nárë's my terrier". He thought about adding how she had been gifted to him by a Dwarf, and that whole story, but wasn't sure about here, in the midst of all his relatives, so left it at that. 'I wanted to bring her", he glanced over to his mother, who just smiled back before laughing lightly.

"Even at Seven, and fully grown, she's still tiny so keeping up with her and Pellavan would have been a bit much on the trip so she's back in Rivendell in the care of trusted friends".

"Yeah, and I know Mother's right", Pellavan admitted, "But I wish you could have met her, she's the sweetest thing ever!", the boy insisted, perhaps biased.
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  • Gard: Tag for Arahin [link]
    June 25, 2020, 01:41:34 PM
  • Ari: Tag for Gandalf [link]
    June 16, 2020, 07:01:59 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Aragorn/Estel
    June 16, 2020, 05:06:42 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Pip
    June 16, 2020, 03:48:54 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Shadowfax
    June 16, 2020, 03:27:53 AM
  • Dory: Plotter reply from Morwen to Theoden. <3
    June 16, 2020, 03:13:39 AM
  • Arahin: Reply for Nauroval [link]
    June 14, 2020, 05:12:45 AM