Together, Wenlesael Isil and myself are starting an adventure, a story. It start with two elves, who's names are Wenshor(Wenlesael) and Arhwir(Rukain), and who are indeed two very rugged elves. They both have a thirst for adventure, and are constantly striving to satisfy it, though it never is, and may never be, satisfied. Thy are only content when out on the road(or off it), traveling, fighting when need be, exploring wherever they are, and going where the wind may take them.                                                      Rules:

      Though in the intro I didn't exactly clarify it, I will now: this is a role-playing guild, or RPG. Wenlesael and I are the Game Masters; if only one is allowed, then I am GM, but we are running this together. We are going to limit the number of people who start this journey with us. Sorry to whoever is not included, but with too many people, it's really hard. The limit is(excluding Wen and I) 9 people.

  When you introduce your character, you may give a description of any amount of detail. If you wish, you can include a personality description, appearance, skills, weapons, etc, but the only thing REQUIRED is the name of the character you chose to play as. Then you must develop and introduce your character as the story progresses.

    When you are writing a post, you have COMPLETE control. You may use any character in the story, and take the plot where you wish. Just try to keep it realistic to the characters, and to the world, which is Middle-Earth.

   You can get pretty descriptive with wounds blood and such, just try not to go too over-the-top; there are some people(thought not me or Wen) who might be uncomfortable with such things, and may read or join our RPG.

  I believe that's it for the rules. If there is any confusion concerning them later on, Wen or I will straighten it out. So, we shall begin, and go where the wind may take us.....

     Arhwir waited in the dark corner of the Golden Hills Inn, an inn of fame in the lonely parts near Rohan where it was stationed. She and her old friend, Wenshor, had been rather still for a while now(at least in their standards), and were itching to get back on the road. Wenshor had gotten an idea, though, and so they now must wait until he was satisfied. Though Arhwir didn't say so, she approved of Wen's idea, and was eager to see the results. Most of their adventures they had gone on alone, or with only eachother, but now they were about to try something different. "The first 9 people who walk through that door," Wenshor had said earlier, pointing at the front door of the Golden Hills Inn, "We will, aherm, 'convince' to come with us. With this!" He dramatically pulled out his long knife. "Jokingly of course," He said, returning the knife to it's place in his belt. "Yes," said Arhwir, rather sarcastically, "jokingly of course." So Wenshor sat down at the bar, and Arhwir took her natural place in the shadows, with a hood over her face, and waited, eager on the inside, but very still on the outside. At least, until...

      OOC: And so, let the wind take us where it will!

Because I didn't describe my character before, I'll do it know.

Arhwir is a rather young elf from who-knows-where, and has traveled to many who-knows-where's many times. She has long, dark hair, almost black, that is not very tidy, but rather tangled. A bit of dirt never upsets her a bit; actually it's a bit of soap that can be a problem. Arhwir is a lonely character, preferring a small, select group to a large company, and so she  does not always make very good company. She rarely speaks her feelings aloud, and is often silent, but when her anger is aroused, there is indeed reason to fear. She is normally seen as grim and solemn, but after a long run or a ride alone somewhere in nature, she can be very amiable, especially when there is anything involving music. She is skilled in many instruments, but only carries with her a small wooden flute. She wears a long, evergreen tunic, high boots and a dark cloak, and a very thin silver chain around her neck. Her weapons are two fairly short, thin curved swords of a striking white, that(unlike herself) never seem to get dirty. Once her trust is gained, her loyalty is fierce as a dragon who's been awakened from his nap, but that trust is very hard to gain. With a few, Wenshor being one, she will joke and laugh like anything, but mind the word 'few'. She is not overly cheerful or outgoing,  like Wen, and she is suspicious and distrustful, but she's willing to give others a chance to prove themselves to her, though she's a bit hard to please. But naturally, she enjoys seeing people's reactions to Wen's many stunts.

A solemn figure entered first. Dark haired, cautious looking, a fine fellow if you asked me. He seemed to notice us almost immediately as we watched the door he came through. I slowly stood up, stretched a bit, and ambled over to our "prey".

I smiled. I big, flashy smile. His eyes narrowed, questioningly.

"Sir, would you mind joining us?" The man replied with a shake of his head, and we walked back over to Arhwir. "Sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to by your own beer. I haven't a piece of silver anywhere on me." He nodded and Arhwir stood to meet us. "He'll join us. I told you this was going to be easy. Not a word of arguing, in fact, not a word at all! He's going to come with us!" I announced this with fervor.

The man then spoke, "What? Come where? You did mean to join you in sitting here, right? Or am I mistaken?"

Arhwir, rolled her eyes at me and proceeded to explain. He seemed quite alright about it as she gave the details of my plan and even looked somewhat entertained. I proudly twirled a knife around my fingers, it was a great plan. I really hoped the man would accept.

After Amarnil had gone to his room, Wen and Arhwir sat a little longer in the downstairs. Wen kept expressing his excitement, and his hopes that Amarnil would accept, but Arhwir was quiet, and gazed off into nowhere. "Arwhir," She finally heard Wen through her daze, "You've been out this whole time, haven't you?" Wen inquired. He didn't seem upset by it, and Arhwir simply shrugged. "Aye!" Wen stood and stretched. "Ready for sleep, I am." He paused, looking at Arwhir. She replied, "I guess I'll follow suit. Sleep doesn't hurt anyone... normally."  With that, the two headed upstairs to their beds. For a long while, Arwhir lay awake thinking. She was sick of beds and walls. She was ready for woods and open skies, and grass and dust. Oh well, Wenshor would hear nothing of it,  now that his plan was set in motion. They would wait...

The next morning, Arwhir awoke a little before sunrise. When she and Wen entered the dining room of the inn, Amarnil was already sitting at his breakfast. They joined him, and heard his reply to their request. He would join, at least for now. Wen, obviously pleased and proud of his 'persuasive skills' as he said, ordered a large breakfast, which he ate most of himself. Arhwir, who was restless and tired of being inside, and who was just not a morning person, ate little, and was rather temperamental for the most part. Wen was unaffected by Arhwir's ill temper, however, and kept on talking and laughing. Thus they spent the beginning of their day.

Having heard Wen's plan concerning the Waterfall, Amarnil thought it would be too taxing on her to do it daily. Instead he suggested leaving a message at the Inn where any wanderer interested in the quest should follow the sound of an Elvish Horn heard at sunrise and dusk everyday. 

While they were discussing this plan over, a group of three farmers entered the Inn for breakfast and to share the local gossip.

"You heard the news?" one of them said. "Apparently a troll and a few Orcs were signted near the swaps of the Isen."

At this the three elves, stopped their chatter and listened attentively.

"Who saw them?" another replied in between a mouthful of ale. "I don't believe you! We haven't seen any of these dratted creatures since the Great War ended!"

"But what do you make of the disappearing horses and cattle then? Old Nodes said he found a carcass of one of his horses and it looked like it had been ripped and eaten. I know of no one else who would do such a thing around here!"

"And what about the Riders of the King? have they been informed?"

"Yes, they followed what they thought was a trail but it brought them to nothing. Yet, people are growing more afraid and are now traveling in groups when passing near the Swamps. It's getting a bad name especially since that kid disappeared in the area a fortnight ago."

The 3 companions looked at each other.

"I don't believe that was a chance happening," Amarnil said slowly.

"I definitely agree,"Arwhir replied. "It's certainly worth investigating!"

"I'll get some horses," Wen cut it. "Both of you pack up and be ready when I get back!"

Half an hour later, they were riding towards the dreaded swamps. The sky was dark, threatening rain and the wind, chill. The 3 elves were warmly wrapped in their cloaks and had their hoods on. With a swift gesture, Amarnil indicated to his friends to halt while he rode ahead alone, gazing at the ground. He had seen some masked trail. Reading the direction he beckoned to his companion again and they galloped forward. A few minutes later, they came to a rocky down, where further riding was impossible.

"Well seems like we will have to continue on foot from here," he whispered to his companions. They all dismounted and readied their gears. With his companion watching curiously, Amarnil revealed the content of his long sheath; a 6 foot long unstrung Longbow! Not what most elves usually carried around with them. Reaching for a pouch in his cloak, he removed his bow string and strung the longbow. His quiver set on his back, he fitted his sword to his belt and was at last ready to continue their journey.

Wen, immediately took the lead with Arwhir next and Amarnil closing the way. They made no noise as they crept forward, and kept a sharp lookout for danger which could be lurking under any stone.

The party crept forward stealthily. A few yards away they came upon a few rocks which sheltered them from all, but the most vigilant of eyes. "Things aren't right!" Amarnil whispered. "This silence is uncanny, not a bird singing, or a frog croaking. If we really are near a camp of looters and pillagers, they must have at least one scout posted somewhere. Find him!"

Amarnil, breathed slowly, seeking to reduce his heart beat. It was a technique he had learned long ago. By reducing his heartbeat and calming himself down he became more aware of his surrounding. His eyes turned this way and that, searching for anything which didn't fit it. Then he had it! 1 hundred feet or so away up, a pine tree, sat a small figure. He appeared to be biting at something, probably roasted meat and wasn't paying attention at all to his surrounding.

A barely audible whistle from Wen, made him turn into his direction. "Very smart," Amarnil thought as Wen had been careful not to startle him. Wen gestured that he had seen another one further up the ridge.

"We better stay here till nightfall," Amarnil suggested to his companions. "I guess the others are in hiding at this time, and will only come out a night!"

"Aye," Arhwir whispered. "And from what I've seen they'll probably have a camp fire going which will make shooting them easier!"

"Good thinking there," Amarnil Smiled. "Once it is Dark, I will move back and take out the scout up the tree. One of you must do the same with the other. Once done, whistle like a sparrow. We will then  spread out on 3 sides of the camp. Once we're all in position, Wen will start shooting or throw his spear. The orcs will try to charge down his position, leaving them exposed from the back. Arwhir and I will then shoot from the back, to spread chaos and confusion in their ranks!"

Having agreed on the plan, they made themselves as comfortable as they could, sharing some food and drink and awaited night fall.

Hey, sorry for double-posting, but I was cut off in the middle of my last post, so I'll finish it.

As the orcs searched frantically for the one who felled the first of them, arrows began to whiz from the shadows behind them. Once the orcs finally realized they were being pelted from behind, a good number of them had already fallen, and true chaos settled in. They scattered every which way, searching, snarling, shouting, as one after another fell. Then, from the shadows to the north, came Wen, with his spear in hand, leaping into the fray.

"Ha!" a triumphant Wen slew one after another. Arhwir drew her blades from their places and raced into the orc camp. Arrows from Amarnil's bow soared through the air, first on one side, then the other, never in the same place.

It was then that they heard the first clap of thunder. The sky was ablaze for one split second before submerging again into darkness. As the last orcs fell lifeless to the ground, a few small drops of rain began to fall, before long becoming heavier. Their victory yet new, Amarnil had not come out from his place. Wen and Arhwir stood together in the open circle the orcs had cleared for their camp. Arhwir looked around her. The orcs were slain, but something wasn't quite right.

Then, through the rain, they heard a thud, followed by a groan, then thud. Arhwir tightened her grip on her swords. Thud...thud... As they grew closer, the ground seemed to shake. CRASH! went the tree on the outskirts of the camp. There stood the massive figure of a troll. "Well, this is unexpected," said Arhwir through clenched teeth. Another clap of thunder signaled a torrent as the rain came pouring down. The sky again lit up, darkening the outline of the giant beast.

Orcs, mithril, now trolls, Arhwir thought to herself. Now what?

Arhwir gripped her swords tighter in her hands, and squinted through the rain at the massive beast before her. It was out-numbered, and out-smarted even by only one of them. But on his side was brute strength.

The troll took one step closer, then stopped and grunted as if surprised. The monster stupidly gazed around, and in a flash of lightning, Arhwir saw a shaft in the troll's chest. Not much of a wound, she thought. She started slowly circling to the right and glanced at Wen, who nodded his understanding and began to loudly draw the troll's attention.

"You nasty brute! I've a temper, and I tell you now, it's an unmatched terror!" He shouted, waving his spear in the air. As Arhwir started to circle to the back, she noticed the troll beginning to sway a bit on his feet.

''That's unnatural...'' Arhwir murmured to herself. Then she stopped, suddenly realizing: ''The Noldor! Clever.'' He must have drugged the ugly beast.

"Oh, all ugly beasts are doomed to die terrible deaths wrought by cold steel." Or so I thought when I watched the troll crash doggedly through the trees. I was sick. Almost as sick as he was...and for the same reason. The poison. It horrified me that the evil brute was falling without dying from a mortal wound the way it should be.

So, I flipped over a large rock, jumped high with the aid of my momentum, and while in the air I flicked two shining knives from my belt. The glided through the air like through water, flowing through the dim light, straight into the trolls throat. With a grunt and a cough, he fell.

The glory, though, must be split. The Noldor is allowed some of it...even if he did use some sickly poison.