Thread: Fallen Treasure
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1. Mark all speech with quotations.
2. Minimum of 3 lines per post.
3. No completely OOC posts unless necessary.
4. Abide by the rules of English grammar. If you make one little spelling or grammar mistake, it's okay, but please make sure that your post is intelligible.
5. No god modding.
6. You can only control your character's actions.
7. Just write a short charactersheet like this in your first post:
*NOTE: You don't have to use this charactersheet, but you do have to have some of the things on here, like: appearance, goals, name, and race.
8. Abide by the rules of Tolkien: no different races, no half Elves, no centaurs, no magic: just Tolkien. If you make a mistake, we'll forgive you though.
9. No red-headed Elves or anything like that.
10. Play nice.
11. I have the right to change the rules as I see fit.
If you cannot or will not abide by these rules, please do not post. Please do not be scared, these rules aren't that hard. I just want a little substance and fairly good grammar, is that too much to ask?
Setting: After the War of the Ring, in a miscellaneous forest at the base of the Misty Mountains, near Isengard.
The last glow of the sun was fading, it's warmth leaving the trees slowly. Tiny pin pricks of stars were starting to shine through the last rays of day. The moon was beginning to rise, glowing softly with reflected light. Birds twittered their evening songs, a lullaby of the forest. All around, animals were starting to slumber, while others, like the owl, embraced the coming of night.
It was a cool night, with a small breeze. The forest floor was scattered with pine needles, flowers of many scents, and mushrooms. At the base of a great oak, there sat an old woman. Her hair was long and silvery, flowing down her back. The woman's eyes were dark and keen, watching her strong hands heave a net out of the gently gurgling stream. Inside of it, were several silvery fish.
With a satisfied smile, the woman set them onto her lap, and pierced them with a stick, before setting them carefully over the fire. The flames flickered brightly, illuminating her weathered face, and biting at the fish on the stick. While the fish were cooking, her eyes pierced the growing shadows, as if expecting company to step forward at any moment.
OOC: You don't have to post as in depth as this, but you can if you wish. I will post like this because I can. If you wish to find out what happens next, simply post with a short (or long) character sheet and with a few fairly well-written lines.
Well, there is a goal, but you have to here it from the old lady. If you do not want to participate once you have heard her through, you may make a post removing yourself from the quest, physically walking away. Otherwise, just stick along for the ride!
An elf slowly strides to the river. from looks it is obvious he is sad about something. He goes over to a tree and sits against the trunk so that he can think in peace. To anyone watching it is obvious he doesnt pay any attention to his surroundings. Meanwhile there is a bird that comes to land on his shoulder.
Animal: a small bird that keeps him company.
Clothes: greens browns and blacks made to blend into the forests.
weapons: he carries a sword two hunting knives and a bow with a quiver of arrows on his back.
purpose: ever since loosing a brother to the orcs he has sword vengence and death to all orcs who come into the forest. he has never gotten over his brothers dissapearence and so he is always in a sadness. he is also looking to find out what happened to his brother.
From a bag at her side extracted a bottle of spice, a flask of wine, a few eating utensils, and some mushrooms she had collected earlier. She spread the spices over the top of the cooking fish, and inhaled deeply the scent that now wafted. The mushrooms she placed near the coals of the fire to warm up and toast.
Name: Clover Bracegirdle
Description: She is like all hobbits, simple and merry. She lives a peaceful and quiet life apart from most hobbits though, because of a little secret happening between her mother and herself before her mother died. Now she still visits Hobbiton twice a year but lives more by herself. Her hole is on the side of a riverbank. And the forest nearby was where she liked to wander off to in the old days... She abhorrs violence, and adventure, like a typical hobbit.
Appearance: Short, brownhaired with green eyes and cute features.
Specialty: Knows a lot about herbs and healing from going into Fangorn. Also a great cook.
Clover thought she heard voices outside her door. So she opened it and peeked outside. Right in front of her face was a pair of Elven boots. She opened her eyes in shock, then gazed upwards to find a pair of eyes, equally shocked, staring at her.
At this, Clover felt her boldness return. "Well!" She heaved herself out of the hole and flapped the dirt off her dress. "Who are you and what are you doing here, disturbing my rest with delicious smells of fish and pleasant singsong voices?" She sat on the grass comfortably and glanced around. Then she saw the old woman.
"Oh so here's the fish!" she bounded over to the pot and winked at the old lady. "I wonder how you knew I hadn't eaten lunch yet...this is perfect! Don't mind if I dig in?"
Appearence: Dressed entirely in black, green eyes, long, dark brown hair (She dyed it I guess)
Animal/s:Large raven that usually stays hidden, & wolf that is usually at her side
Weapons: Bow'n arrows, long sword
Falts/ Attitude: Stubborn, adventurous, impatient, can't cook to save her life, and doesn't usually hesitate to kill
History- Kinda messed up past, hated by most family, always on the run from something... & stuffs
Rue looked down from her tree branch and chuckled to herself. The smell of the fish had caused her to stray from her hunting, but she savored the scent. She looked down, seeing her wolf, Axis, in the bushes, he was holding back the urge to snatch the meal away.
Name: K'valta (K for short)
Age: many millenia old
Race: (Wood) Elf
Appearance: Black-brown hair, dark brown eyes, light colored skin, green and brown clothes
Residence: no permanent home; most comfortable in forests
Weapons: large ash bow with a wuiver and arrows, small knife
Skill Level: highly trained in tracking and other forest stuff
Short History: She grew up in the forest, with little contact to the outside world. It took her a long time to learn actual l;anguage, and she still has broken speech.
Goals: Wants to speak fluently
K'valta walked silently through the trees near the others, watching with interest as she remained unhidden. The smell of fish was new to her, and she wanted to learn, then she found a wolf sniffing at her leg.
IC: The old woman all but ignored the hobbit as she burst from her home. She turned the mushrooms and fish, setting off another wave of smells. She smiled faintly when the hobbit sat down on the other side of the fire. The fire crackled and leaves rustled overhead in the lull. The old woman picked the cooked fish up, set it down on a plate, and put another over the fire.
"If you are hungry, you may eat if you wish." She acknowledged finally, adding a few mushrooms to the plate. In addition, she poured dark red wine from the skin into the cup. It splashed and gurgled like a mini stream, yet the old woman spilled not a drop of the liquid.
She seasoned and cooked five more fish, and poured just as much wine. She cooked mushroom after mushroom, and set cold potatoes onto the plates as well. The woman seemed to be expecting company. She herself, poured a crystal clear liquid from a different flask that tinkled as it hit the wood of the cup. She brought out a piece of warm bread too, and nibbled on that as she observed her surroundings.
The clearing was clearly lit on one side by her fire, but the other side was dim. Beyond the trees was pitch black, and filled with the sounds of night. Leaves rustled around them with animals and other things, and owls hooted over head. Moon beams shone pale against the pressing darkness, and softened the edges of what it touched. The old woman turned the fish on the fire and added more mushrooms as well as another log to keep the fire strong.
Rue lept from her tree and walked silently to the new arrival, bending down to pat Axis, "My apologies, he's curious". She whispered a few words to him and after a moment, he reluctantly moved off into the forest. She straitened and extended her hand in greeting, "Again, sorry".
"Is okay, ma'am." she managed to say with a smile. "Name K'Va..K'V..K."
She smiled and nodded a bit, rather proud of her ability to say that much in a sentence.
Then she remembered the Elf she had just found at her door. Clover waved at him. "Don't stand there staring, not polite, y'see. Come and join us! She's got mushrooms and fish!"
A cloaked figure stooped in the trees bordering the clearing. He had been watching this motley crew for a while, he was usually extremely secretive but he hadnt eaten in a week,he was watching the fish being cooked and licked his lips. He slowly stepped up and bowed low. "My name is Freca, I would be eternally grateful to have but the smallest bite of those delicious fish."
Race: Man, Rohirrim
Origin: Was a nobleman in Edoras but was exiled for disobeying the king.
Looks: He has short, blonde hair with blue eyes
Weapons: Longbow with special peircing tips
Armour: Special mithril chainmail under overshirt.
Clothes: He walks around cloaked so as not to draw attention.
The old woman's weary eyes watched the hobbit gobble up the food with something akin to amusement plain on her face. She knew the loss of Calin, and tried to meet his eyes over the fire. The flames lit her face with their ever changing like, and threw shadows on her face as well; cast by the wrinkles time had given her face.
The old woman knew there were more outside of the clearing, her keen eyes picked up their movements, and she heard unnatural rustlings. All she did for a long while was wait and watch, until Clover looked sorrowful as well. "Do not dishearten." She called out, her rough voice barely louder than the crackle of the biting flames. "There are things yet to live for, and mistakes to be made. Let us not banish the darkness for now, for you shall encounter it soon enough." The last part was accompanied by a grimace on her part.
She looked at the new arrival, sizing him up, before replying, "Your presence would not be unwelcome, son of Rohan." She added more fish to the fire, and withdrew ears of corn, wrapped in skins. These were set in the embers close to the mushrooms.
OOC: The only fair-haired males are the Rohirrim, I believe. She is able to deduce much, but if she is wrong, correct her please. ^_^ Apologies for the lengthy OOC posts...
Clover cocked her head and listened intently. There was something rumbling far off. It was very faint, and perhaps none other here but the Elf would be able to hear it, and from the look on his face, she knew he hadn't. So she listened again, pressing her ear to the ground. Heavy footsteps. Marching, from the rhythm. Soldiers. Not the Rohirrim, for they had steeds, and this bore no sound of horses, nor was it the Dunedain, for they stepped lightly and would certainly not make such a din. No Gondor troop was this, either, for the men of Gondor liked to travel light and speedily. Not these... unless they were the Orcs! Clover felt very scared all of a sudden. Orcs! They were hideous beings.
Basic Appearance: Red hair and light blue eyes. ( it is okay to have red hair if I'm not an elf, isn't it?) She is slender and about 5'5" and dresses in blacks and greys.
Residence: Used to live in MInas Tirith but left when she became orphaned.
Weapons: A broad sword and various daggers hidden about her person. She is a skilled mercenary and carries various "herbs" in pouches on her belt.
Animals: She has a pet wolf which she has raised nearly since its birth.
Short History: Her father was a ranger with Faramir but was killed at Osgiliath, her mother was killed during the fighting in Minas Tirith. SHe set off on her own to find an adventure and prove her worth, mainly to herself, but also to those she left behind.
Goals: To prove her own worth to herself and to become recognised in the real world.
6. You can only control your character's actions.
Sorry Cloveress, but they did not jump into the clearing, thus making any actions based on that assumption null and void. Don't try to do that just to extend a post. You must have the player's permission in this thread to do so. No PMs, because I can't view those to be sure of the consent. To clear anything up in the future: try not to assume things and create actions that affect everyone else so directly from these assumptions. I want to explain the task to you guys before the orcs rush in. I don't mean to be a control freak, but let the old woman get her words out first. Hasty, aren't we?
IC: The whole clearing was quiet, tension in the air around Cloveress. The animals seemed to have fled. The tension was quickly released though, as if something had been squeezing her chest, and then let go. A calmness surrounded the glade. When Cloveress perked her ears she heard rumbling. The rumbling seemed to have stopped now, and a single pair of heavy footsteps approached their clearing.
The old woman, seemingly oblivious to the footsteps, called out, "Anyone who wishes to hear what I have to say, come forth. Eat, drink, and listen." She paused, waiting for the people to step forward. "Now then," continued the wise being. "Something of utmost importance has happened, and I come to you for help."
Clover dismissed the sound she'd heard. Like a typical hobbit, she'd rather shut herself to any form of adventure, and when it came to her, she'd simply flee back into her hobbit hole and wait for it to pass. Still, the others ought to know about this... No, no, look at them, all carrying weapons and dangerous nasty bloody instruments of killing. They'd only turn her home into a bloodstained battlefield. She sighed.
The old woman's voice was now like the wind rustling the leaves, so quiet that even the Elves would have to move ever closer until they were at the edge of the fire. "Aulë has lost something most precious to him. It was stolen and hidden away near the remains of Barad-dűr." A silence fell upon camp, only broken by the whisper of dying flames, throwing more shadows upon their faces.
"Those of you who wish to undertake this task, stay, and let yourself be seen. Those of you who refuse: leave now, and if you reveal any of your knowledge of this, you will die instantly." A hardened, youthful look was now displayed across her face, striking fear even into the most heartless of betrayers. "You will be bound by your choice forever, but be swift in your choice, it does not do to tary further."
But as soon as she slammed the door shut she felt different. She was curious in spite of herself. And she didn't like to admit it, but that old woman did make good food, even better than her own cooking, she thought resentfully. And Aule, that name she knew. Even a hobbit would know that name from staying right at the edge of Fangorn! But she was too proud to go out again. After all, they were murderers, every one of them, no matter what Freca said about killing, it was still a disruption of peace, right? She'd better not go off with them! Imagine her reputation! Hanging out with adventurers (she thought the word with disgust)... urggh!!! But she wanted very much to hear more about Aule and maybe a bit about Yavanna...
She chuckled. They didn't know, but she had the back way out, the way that led into the forest behind, which she often used when herb-collecting. So she slipped out, quieter even than an Elf, and hid in the trees eavesdropping...
IC: The old woman looked sharply at Freca. "I would have thought that much would be apparent." She sighed, before continuing she took a sip from her flask. "You go down to Barad-dűr and take back what is Aulë's." She paused, looking deep into Freca's face. "I suppose though, that you meant to ask what will become of you and where to return it to."
She waited for a nod or shake of the head before continuing regardless of what Freca did. "You take it back, and keep it safe. Bring it to the White Dock. There will be an escort there, waiting for you." There was silence around the campfire. "You are now all wondering, what your boon will be, aren't you? Well, that, I will tell later. For not everyone present has agreed."
The old woman shot a look into the shadows. Anyone under her gaze would feel like she could see them, like a wriggling worm across their skin. "Does that satisfy your question, curious one?"
IC: Clover was shocked at the woman's senses. And she flinched suddenly when the old lady turned her head this way. Those eyes were piercingly bright in that moment and they seemed to see right through every single thing that Clover was hiding behind.
"Fine, fine," she mumbled and came out again. She stood in front of everyone now and looked into the old lady's eyes. She had considered using the hypnotic trick on her, but something told her it wouldn't work... "I suppose I'll have to go with you now that I've heard all your secrets and quest and everything." Clover didn't like the words coming out of her mouth. The old lady was still in front of her, and Clover stared more intently into her eyes. She felt curiousity returning again. "Who are you, anyways? If I'm to go on an adventure with a bunch of barbarians like the ones assembled here I'd like very much to know the names of everybody here."
"It is not a matter of who promises to go or not, though I did persuade most of you to go." She shot Rue a smug smile. "It has never mattered if you agree to or not, your mere presence here is close enough to an answer. In any case, your true intentions were beheld as soon as you stepped near the fire." The old lady waited for them to decipher this tid bit before continuing.
"Barbarians?" she raised an eyebrow. "Hardly so. A bit biased, you are, perhaps?"
"To answer your question: I have many names, but you may all call me Hinhael." Her voice flowed sweet like fresh chocolate, but rich and deep: fatigued with age beyond a hobbit's reckoning.
OOC: Sorry for the short post guys, I have to study for my history test! Next one will be better, I promise (post not test ).
She then glanced down to the hobbit, "Call us what you want, but the blood spilt by my weapons is done simply out of protection, and a goal to rid this world of all those who do choose to act as blood -spilling barbarians. And although I do enjoy it sometimes, mainly out of revenge, I won't kill innocents for any reason. That should be enough for you". She unclipped her bota once more and took a long sip before resting her head against the trunk.
OOC: Hope the test goes well!
"Ah, but isn't that the point? To elaborate and to confuse is such a rare talent." Hinhael mused. "Who said that it was a magical fire, Rue? It is not the object, but the wielder. A bit of advice for later on your journey." She clarified. "The goblets on the ground and the food on the plates aren't going to gobble themselves up. Eat, drink, and let us relax."
Hinhael withdrew an apple pie from her bag, cut it into slices, and helped herself to one. She closed her eyes, savoring the spicey and sweet taste. "Go ahead." She smiled at them, and patted the ground beside her in invitation.
Clover glanced frostily away from the Elf with the red bird. It would take a lot more than a few words to convince this hobbit that they weren't barbarians! Out of this lot, only the old lady (and perhaps the red bird) seemed nice to her.
She bowed to the lady, wondering for a moment if she was a Maia (she hadn't forgotten the way those eyes had shone in the light), so old yet powerful she seemed to little Clover. "I am honoured to meet you, m'lady, and even more honoured I would be to walk by you," she used her formal voice, though she didn't know why. "I will stay with this company, yet I ask that you do not make me bear any weapons. I assure you that I need none, and have no love for them either..."
"I too wish to know of your origin, I'm game for an adventure but i will not put my trust in some woman I stumbled on in the forest. Going to Mordor is a dangerous mission."
Hinhael smiled steadily at Rue. “You have never relaxed, nor will you. A wise decision, I must say.” The woman stood up, former grin fading until it was only a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth. But her heart warmed, and a smile played on her lips as she looked down upon the hobbit.
“Do not worry, child.” She replied to Cloveress’s groveling. “But arise, there is not use for formalities here.” As if that was a cue, the woods around them burst out in night time noises. Rustlings in the undergrowth, hooting owls, squirrels scampering in the night sky, trying to evade the silent predators. “And don’t worry about the dress,” She murmured, trying to keep her voice low enough not for many others to hear. “It matters not at all.”
“Freca,” She started turning to him. “Do not be so quick to judge others, or look down upon them because you believe them not to be in your league.” The smile had dropped a bit from her lips. “However, I suppose it is only fair that you know my history, as I know yours…”
She heaved a heavy breath and sat back down. Draining her flask, she began. “I do not wish to weave a fancy web of tails, and our time grows thin. I shall be rather blunt, for the enemy draws near. I am a messenger of Aulë. I have come from the far shore to here, to aide you in your quest.”
Hinhael paused, and looked towards the two who have not spoken. “You two, if you do not come, shall find yourselves unable to speak of any of this. Do not try, lest your tongue swell in your mouths, and you lose all ability to talk anymore.” She returned to her story. “I am one of his servants, and helpers. One of the maiar, I am. That is all you need to know about me.”
Well, let them think what they wish! Clover thought huffily, though she tried not to let any sign of her inner thoughts show on her face. But then the old woman started talking. So Hinhael was a Maia, Clover looked upon her wonderingly. And one of Aule's own! She stared with more reverance at this lady, mayhaps she had even learned from Yavanna herself the arts of all living things! Clover felt her skin tingling all over at this thought, for she loved more than anything life and nature and greens. She put her chin in her hands and stared back into the woods, where deep shadows had begun to gather.
Lairen laughed. "As much as I should like see what i would look like with a swollen tounge, you may count me amongst those going."