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Beren Camlost
17/Jun/2011, 08:08 PM
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"Little do they know of our long labour for the
safe-keeping of their borders. Yet, I grudge it not."
~ Halbarad

"Elladan and Elrohir were out upon errantry :

for they rode often far afield with the Rangers of the North." - Narrator


"Elrond will send out a fair number...Elrond is sending Elves, and they
will get in touch with the Rangers...we shall have to scour the lands
all round for many long leagues." - Gandalf

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In the craggen heights of the North Downs there is a large cavern that leads deep under a cliff, to a natural earthen and stone stairwell that rises through a narrow cleft in the rock to a high and hidden ledge, overlooking the lowlands. In this place of sanctuary, secreted away from prying eyes, stands an outpost named Osdolen, a refuge of the Rangers of the North and stands several strong, silent guards : Mallamir and Artavor, Tarvegil and Valvegil, and brothers Ostover and Eärno (Hallas' NPCs) .

Osdolen's gates are strong, and lead through the outer stone walls into the age old streets, empty now save for the rangers who frequent them briefly, before moving on. There are but a handful of residents here, driven from their lands and farms by ravaging hordes of orcs out of the Misty Mountains and ancient Angmar. Rangers crowd the taproom of the Four Winds, exchanging tales and gossip, the tongue of rumour and omens of ill augury are often spoken in this place. Warnings of grave peril are
given and heeded here. Plans to foil the cunning of the enemy marching out of the east are made by courageous souls. But even the best laid plans can go to waste...

Encamped within Osdolen are the Northern Dúnedain. Known also as the Rangers of the North, these hardy people are the descendents of the Dúnedain from their lost kingdom of Arnor. For over a thousand years they have been led by the Chieftans of the Dúnedain, heirs of Isildur and rightful claimants to the twin thrones of Arnor and Gondor. The current Chieftan of the Dúnedain is Aragorn son
of Arathorn, who travels Eriador in the guise of a ranger named Strider.
Second only to Aragorn is Halbarad, trusted Captain of the Grey Company.

Players might enter this thread to take the Oath of the Rangers and offer their support to the Dúnedain. Players might also be returning veteran rangers, bringing news and supplies from Bree and other
settlements to the south. Players can also make use of the hidden settlement to sharpen their weapon skills under the calculating gaze of their comrades. Important news and events will also be revealed by SCR recipients of Aragorn and Halbarad within this thread, especially with them announcing news of new adventures open to Rangers of the Lone Lands.
When there is no SCR recipient of Aragorn, Aigronding will RP him.

All new players are immediately able to join with Halbarad's Grey Company. But after taking theOath of the Rangers, any player is also free to form their own band of Rangers, with a unique name. Players can also join with an existing band by gaining the permission of their chief within an RPG or open-RP thread. To create a new band, a player should find a willing comrade-in-arms to join with them.
The leader, or chief, of each band is expected to GM stories for their band within the open-RP threads of the Lone Lands

Locations :

The Courtyard-

Pace the grounds of Osdolen and train with Hirvegil (Hallas), weapon-master of the Dúnedain. Engage in a game of horseshoes by the stables, or barter skins for coin by the tannery. There are kennels, too, managed by Dinenol (Mar) ; here there are hounds for the hunt to supply the Four Wind's kitchen but also dogs of battle may be chosen to aid you in combat, and a canine may be chosen for a pet. There is also an archery range and mastered by Emeralda (Rillewen). (She will be using this link when she judges scores HERE (http://www.wizards.com/dnd/dice/dice.htm) ; Rill will be using the d-20)

The Wall-

Prowl the walls of Osdolen under the command of Captain Thalion (Tolkus), always keeping
watch on the lands to the north where the evil of Angmar once reigned ; the remnant of that once great fell nation is a clear and present danger.

The Library of Osdolen-

Among the buildings still intact within the ancient city, the Library of Osdolen
is an imposing, grey stone and white marble domed structure
surrounded by a copse of oak trees at the
heart of the refuge ; it's a repository of knowledge, custodian of information regarding
the lands of Eriador and distant Wilderland specifically.
Its caretaker (Aig) is a Dunadan senior, Eriston, who had once been a Ranger of the North in his youth.


The Four Winds - Tavern and Council Hall

Here the rangers of the north exchange news and stories over a brimming tankard of Tubeng, a curiously strong cider brewed by the rangers. New arrivals to Osdolen might visit here, and take the Oath of the Rangers. Whoever holds the SCR of Strider can accept a new Ranger by giving the Oath ; when no Aragorn SCR is awarded, Aig's NPC Khallador is the one they should speak to. The tavern is owned by Abrazân (played by Moriel), a middle-aged Dúnadan of grim complexion, but a friendly tongue. He is ever-present behind the bar to dispense food, drink, and conversation. The Four Winds is a plain establishment, with its heavy wooded chairs, tables, and benches, but chances are if your pleasure in food and drink is simple and hearty, Abrazân will be able to produce it.
The following staff positions are available at the Four Winds; if you are interested in working here, please PM Moriel.

Staff:

Tavernkeeper - Abrazân (Moriel)

Asst. Bartender -

Cook -

Server - Attûbêl Gûrphen (Rillewen)

Server -


If you wish to add more locations within Osdolen grounds, please make an OOC
comment to me at the bottom of your post within this thread and I'll
edit them into the OP so they can be RP'ed at.
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Rules :

- In-Character posts only please. Include your location at the top of each post. Any Out-Of-Character text should be invisible, hidden by turning it white.

- Membership of the Rangers of the North is available to all members, regardless of area and region.

- RP'ers who would like to play Elven characters at Osdolen to participate with the Rangers or any of their exclusive threads must PM Aigronding or Quill. Aigronding, Quill, and Moriel - Elrond's Elf-Dúnadan
liaison - will be monitoring all Elf interactions within Osdolen, observing that all Elf characters behave without rudeness or condescension. The SCR holders of Elladan and Elrohir have permission to associate with the Rangers at Osdolen.


- The season and day have changed ; it's presently spring.

Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Leanan Sídhe
18/Jun/2011, 09:36 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

It was yet another new day in Osdolen, and Callandil had risen from bed a little later than usual, since Osdolen had been fairly quiet of late. Most Rangers were off on a mission, ranging at random or doing something specific, like the Watchers of the Sarn Ford. He did not expect many customers, but it was his wont to be always open, so therefore he got up early every day to open the doors.

After he had done so, he went to setting the tavern to rights after the previous night. This morning this entailed setting a few chairs aright and cleaning off the tables and the bar and doing the last dishes of the previous evening. His son had done most of it after the dinner hours, so these were only the mugs and glass of those patrons that had stayed late before.

After that he set the first coffee of the day and sat down to his own breakfast, making some porridge and pouring himself some cold milk. Now all he could do was wait for business.


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Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
19/Jun/2011, 03:07 PM
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Dínenôl Foeslayer
The Courtyard</span></span>

It was strange, he thought as he scooped leftovers into the food trays at each of the kennels, that he had barely rejoined the Rangers and already he had been given his own "job" of sorts. He was completely in charge of the Ranger hounds of Osdolen. It had all started when he'd picked up a stray dog in the old city just as he and others were heading out to take up Watch at Sarn Ford. That had been some time ago, and from time to time he went back there to take his turn being a Watcher. They were rotated so that each Ranger got a chance to see family and care for other duties as needed. And whenever it was Dinenol's turn he took with him only his faithful dog Nienna -- named for the Valier of suffering, based on the poor dog's condition when he'd found her. The other hounds he always left behind in the care of the other Osdolen Rangers. He could hardly take the whole lot of them with him, for obvious reasons, and he couldn't stay in the old city all the time. It simply wasn't practical. And anyway, the hounds, if set free in the city, were very well trained and wouldn't wander or chase small animals unless they were hungry. So if push came to shove, they could be set free and they could fend for themselves until his return and all would be well.

At the moment, however, they were being the demanding creatures that he knew they were at heart. </span></font>"Okay! Here you go, Mother!" He knew he probably shouldn't have done it, but he'd named almost all of them. Mother was probably the worst of the lot. She had a way of being gracefully indignant, and was very good at giving him a cold shoulder when she didn't get her way. And </font>Mother was the worst nagger. Even when she ignored you, she ultimately got her way. It was strange how some creatures could nag while seemingly paying you absolutely no attention.

Oh well... life wasn't perfect, he knew. If it was, Mother would be much more well-behaved. Furthermore, it seemed that Mother had taken Nienna under her... well... wing?... and Nienna had apparently picked up some of her bad behavior. There was nothing worse than having a nagging, indignant dog who had a sarcastic streak. </span></font>"Sometimes I wonder," he muttered under his breath as he finished scraping the leftovers into each hound's tray. Nienna was trotting at his heels like a taskmaster -- mistress? -- and he could almost hear her telling him to move faster, because they couldn't afford to dilly-dally all day long. She complained way too much. And she was as resolute as a rock -- there was no arguing with her. Oh, you could argue, Dinenol thought, but you never got anywhere that way. And there was no getting around her either. Nienna always had the last word, and that was final.

Having finished feeding the hounds their morning meal, he headed for The Four Winds with the empty bucket tapping against his leg and his ever-bossy dog at his heels. He went in the back way -- he didn't like going in the front door when he wasn't planning on being a customer -- and greeted Callandil with, "Fine day, no?" He was never one to talk more than necessary to his fellow Rangers. He wasn't sure why. He could hold steady conversations -- well, arguments, because even if he knew he wouldn't win, he could help but protest -- with his dog and her friends, but when it came to other people he was a little at a loss. "The hounds loved breakfast." That was a "duh" statement. Of course they loved their breakfast. Stupid thing to say. "Shall I just leave this bucket in the kitchen, or take it to the stream later to rinse it out?"

OOC@Merl - (Hope you don't mind, but since I think it makes sense that Dinenol gets the food for his hounds from The Four Winds, so I RPed him having a bucket full of table scraps; especially since the hounds are the ones who generally lead hunting parties that supply the food for The Four WInds.</font>)

</font>----------------
The Kennel
</font>
14 Ranger hounds:
</font>- Mother (f) - Black/white Basset Hound. Has a way of being gracefully indignant; very good at giving her owners a cold shoulder when she doesn't get her way; and is a terrible nag (gives her owner's "the look" until they bend and give what she wants).

- Buster (m) - Dark brown Bloodhound. Excitable and a little noisy. Loves to jump on people.

- Smokey (m) - Gray Irish Wolfhound. Doesn't like people, and takes his job way to seriously.

- Hairy (f) - Light brown Afghan Hound. Loves people, hates cages, and is a very picky eater. Dislikes the other dogs, too. Tends to be aloof, but completely goofy and a show-off when playing.
</font>- Alfie (m) - Brown/white Borzoi. Quiet and independent, and not a very good watch-dog. Very sensitive and seldom if ever violent.

- Pepper (f) - Brown/black/white Beagle. Very peppy, and a little scatter-brained. An okay watch-dog, but leaves a little to be desired when it comes to hunting.

- Rico (m) - Brown/black/white Artois Hound. Excellent hunting dog for small game. Calm, brave and loyal.

- Shannon (f) - Brown/black/white Artois Hound. </font>Excellent hunting dog for small game. Calm, brave and loyal.</font>
- Shadow (f) - Black/white Kerry Beagle. Decent hunting dog for small game. Very good with people.

- Zorro (m) - Brown/black/white Foxhound. Excellent hunting dog, decent watchdog, very energetic.

- Patch (m) - Brown/black Serbian Hound. Friendly, energetic, good hunting dog.

- Barney (m) - Brown Otterhound. Friendly, good hunting dog, a little slow on the uptake though.
- Cormy (m) - Black long-legged Transylvanian Hound. Very loyal and friendly. Good for hunting larger animals (lynx, boar, stag).
- Mocha (f) - White/brown Harrier. Cheerful and active, likes to explore.
</font>
4 Hound trained pups for sale (see Dinenol for purchase):
- Male black/brown Coonhound. Calm and good for cornering its prey.
- Female dark brown Hanover Hound. Calm, loyal, and quite persistent when tracking.
- White/brown Basenji. Frisky but friendly, clever had hates wet weather, and doesn't bark much at all.
- White/tan Basset Hound. Friendly but stubborn. Sleeps a lot but loves to run when not lying about. Barks a lot.</font></span></font>

Edited by: Mar Fireblade Mordagnir

Tolkus
19/Jun/2011, 07:51 PM
The WallThe first grey shadows of dawn were creeping over the northern reach. Soon the light of day would touch the old stone walls of Osdolen, the hidden refuse of the Rangers of the North. A new day in Osdolen was about to begin, but here on the wall the watch of old still carried on. Summer had finally made it to the north and all was turning many colors of flowers blooming trees greening. Warm weather for a few months at least. This Captain Thalion enjoyed as he made his way around the top of the walls that surrounded the small outpost. The fresh sents not having to wear heavy cloaks and furs were something the Captain looked forward too each year. Though now seeing into the floiage was harder, an even tried he thought. Thalion was in his fifth season as the Captain of the wall watch, a position he was asked to take up and he gladly did so. He had no purminet help here just those who came to Osdolen from time to time would join him in the watch. Even here there were enimies to worry about, Iron men from Angmar and thier Orc allies, fell beast that roamed the northern waist and woods. There was plenty to keep an eye out for these days. Captain Thalion carried his bow at his side with a sword if needed. He stands 6'3" tall short black hair and in decent shape for a man of 53 years. Wearing his black leather boots, faded green pants and a off white shirt, just perfext for the fine weather. Today he was on the wall before dawn like most days making his rounds before going to the Four Winds for a quick bite and back to the wall. Right now he was over the opening to teh outpost watching the distance to see if anyone was making thier way to the wall.
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Edited by: Menolly

Rainelle Hérandil
19/Jun/2011, 11:58 PM
Archery Range

Emeralda pinned her long dark hair up out of her way. It was still very early in the morning, the sun having only recently showed itself above the horizon. She pulled her cloak a little tighter around her, to keep out the early morning chill, as she walked across the courtyard to the archery range. She waved at she saw Dínenôl heading toward the Four Winds after feeding the dogs. She smiled to see Nienna trotting along at his heels. Such a loyal dog, and friendly. Emeralda liked her. She made her think a little bit of the dog she had, which had stayed back home to be a guard dog for Emerala's mother.

Arriving at the archery range, Emeralda took her long bow off her back and looked ahead to find where the targets were. Frowning slightly, she saw that a couple of them had fallen on their sides. She started to lean her bow against a post, then decided she would rather keep her weapon with her. She carried it with her as she walked out to fix the targets, righting them, and then made sure that their bases were weighed enough to keep them from falling again. She thought for a moment, then went and found some heavy rocks to weight the base of each target down with. "That's better."</font> She said quietly to herself as she glanced around, then went back to the shooting area and blew a few loose strands of hair off her face while selecting an arrow.

In moments she was sending arrows flying out toward the targets, taking precise aim with each shot, drawing her bow back to her cheek to give it the full force behind each shot, while leaving no less than five seconds in between each arrow. While her first arrow thudded deep into the center of one target, the second was leaving her bow, and as she was setting a third arrow to the string, the second was burying its tip into the very center of another target. She continued in that fashion until she had used up all of her arrows, making sure not to shoot into the same target twice in a row.

Emeralda enjoyed practicing archery, so she had volunteered to run the archery range when she heard that they needed someone to take over the position. Archery was probably her best area, so why not? Plus it gave her more reason to spend most of her free time here. Even if she wasn't practicing, she could be either helping others, or keeping the range in good repair, replacing worn out targets if necessary, or if the occasion arose, she could easily teach someone who didn't know how to shoot, if they wanted to learn.

When her arrows had all been fired, she lowered her bow and searched each target with her eyes, counting, and nodded in satisfaction to see that all her arrows were there, in the proper places. Tucking some loose bits of hair behind her ear that the wind kept blowing around, she walked out to collect her arrows, and made sure that all the targets were still usable. Should she go another round? She debated for a moment, then shrugged. Why not? She smiled to herself and walked back, smoothing back those loose wisps of hair that kept bugging her, and went back to the shooting area, taking a few steps back from where she had been the first time, then took up her shooting stance and began again.</font>

Pellaadarion
24/Jun/2011, 06:55 PM
Osdolen
The northern borders were yet to feel the full effect of summer's warm embrace, removed from the sunny southern lands of Middle-Earth by many leagues. But no longer did men of Osdolen sleep huddled under many blankets of wool and fur, and the days were long and pleasant, the nights shorter and more hospitable than in previous months.



The Wall
Thurindir put whetstone to blade, forever keeping the steel honed to a razor edge. His gaze was calm and level, his keen eyes focussed on the task in hand. A long cold spring spent in quiet contemplation and meditation had allowed him to recover his senses, seemingly lost to him following the massacre at Sarn Ford the previous year. He had captained a band of men, weathered veterans who went by the handle of The Watchers of Sarn Ford</font>. One fateful day they had crossed swords with foul beasts of Angmar and been slain, save Thurindir, who alone had survived the encounter. It had taken many sleepless nights and long days to recover from the ordeal of losing the men who followed his command.
But summer brought the promise of a new beginning for the seasoned ranger, and although the shadow of Angmar was ever present on the horizon, the shadows in Thurindir's own heart were all but locked away.
Captain Thalion paced the wall not far from Thurindir's spot, forever vigilant in his duty in maintaining the security of Osdolen's borders. The lofty outpost was well protected by high walls and the natural craggen heights of the North Downs, for Osdolen was built upon a large shelf of rock, to be reached only by a narrow stone staircase, tight and twisting in sections, and easily defensible by few against many. However, the enemies of good men were numerous and ever present, and only by Thalion's constant vigil could they sleep soundly in their cots.
Thurindir nodded to the Captain, and returned to sharpening his sword...




Edited by: Pellaadarion

Hallas C. Pehwarin
24/Jun/2011, 10:12 PM
Osdolen</font>



Hirvegil</font> now roamed the halls of his long live people's ancient retreat. Long had he served the Chieftains of the Dú</span>nedain</font> as
its famed and renowned Weapons Master. He felt in his heart that beat
within his chest and tall 6 foot and 6 inch well toned body. Today the
respected d</font>únedain</span></font>
had clad himself simply attire. That being a soft cotton red long
sleeved shirt, a pair of suede tan cotton leggings, and gracing his
lower legs and feet were a pair of faded tan leather boots whose color
had changed into a deep brown. Over his upper body rested a
short-sleeved hard burgundy leather jerkin and matching burgundy leather
traveling skirt skirt. The interior of the skirt carried on both the
front and back a sheet of steel chain-mail attached by means to sturdy
leather points. About his waist </font>Hirvegil</font> wore
a plain grey belt on it were his two wooden scabbards covered in blue
leather that crisscrossed down their lengths and adorned with simple
bronze lockets and matching chapes that were indentical to the </font>conical steel</font> pommels of both weapons. Those being a longsword and dagger of Númenórean design and linage</font>. The
Weapon's Master had decided to forgo a cloak today since the weather
had changed again and the season of Summer had come to the North.</font>



The hand-grips were stained with sweat of his own hands</font> from many countless skirmishes and battles in service to his people as Ranger of the North.</font> Both longsword and dagger's</font> hilt
had two steel rings spaced evenly apart and inter-spaced between them
were strips of beige leather now also a dark brown and were tunnel
stitched by blue thread ended at the conical pommels and steel
crossguards. Both allowed </font>Hirvegil</font>'s
callused hands to fit perfectly onto the hilt for a swift and decisive
two hand blow when it was needed during battle or a mock duel between
him and any new recruits inducted into the Ranger's dwindling
numbers....The two weapon's crossguards were </span>forged of
polished steel </font>flattened and</font> was etched upon either side with a stylized patter</font>n. That being of a seabird with its wings outstretched inlaid in a bronze filigree. </font>The three and quarter foot steel blade followed and was given a
standard fuller down most of the length of the polished steel stopping
short before the end of the blade. It tapered off to a fine point
perfect for thrusting into more heavily armored foes, and was sharpened
on both sides!</font> The dagger of course was identical yet shorter in length being only ten inches in the length of the steel blade.



Now the seasoned and veteran d</font>ú</span>nedain's
weathered face appeared into the sunlight of the late afternoon as he
emerged from one of the many hidden passageways that leading into the
depths of Osdolen entering the wide stone courtyard. A
high forehead with his dark black hair slowly beginning to recede and
turn grey, a pair of thin black eyebrows, below the eyebrows rested a pair of ash-grey colored eyes still
keen and bright despite his advancing years. In between the rested his long aquiline </font></font></font>nose, on either side of this former ranger's face rested a pair of large ears whose hearing was still good but beginning
two cheekbones whose skin was deeply tanned from long wanderings in
service to his people, next came his pale pink lips that formed his
mouth which still offered a smile to his kin or Chieftain Aragorn when he was here or his faithful and steadfast lieutenant Halbarad finishing into a curved chin covered in a stubble of facial hair also black. Hirvegil </font>now looked out across the
courtyard seeing it deserted and decided to head up to the Wall and
gaze out over the expanse of desolate land that was once the great
northern kingdom of Arnor....

The Wall

The short walk up the worn and ancient stairs infused him with strength as he labored to reach the top and upon reaching it the veteran former ranger spotted two fellow d</font>ú</span>nedain with his keen ash-grey colored eyes. They being Captain Thalion and Ranger Thurandir. One was busy with his patrol walking to and forth down the long expanse of the Wall alert for enemies, while the other was busy cleaning his sword and sharping the steel blade. The weapon's master nodded to them both his shaggy black hair swaying in the light wind coming from the south. </font>Hirvegil </font>spoke his voice deep and carried a graveled tone, "Gentlemen how goes the Watch?" " Any news of our fellow kin perhaps of the Watchers of Sarn Ford or another band?" " I sure could use someone to spar against to keep my reflexes toned and ready if we're get any more of Eriador's folk to join our cause." </font>Hirvegil</font> dropped the palm of his right hand to rest against his dagger as he</font> turned his weathered face southward and gazed upon the long landscape of the North Downs with</font> his</font> </font>keen ash-grey colored eyes as he patiently awaited a response from either fellow d</font>ú</span>nedain.....

OOC: Aig and my fellow Ranger my apologies RL this week has certainly been exhausting for me since I've now had to contend with a series of minor screw-ups at work due to my runs usually take about three hours to complete. smileys/smiley13.gif The concerns were addressed and solved but everyone still thinks that the blame lays with me. No it is when a reliable cell phone network craps out and no one could get to me for nearly and hour and half!smileys/smiley12.gif But hey at least I was able to get every critical piece of sent documents to their proper places!smileys/smiley4.gif</font>
</font>



Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Ista Sharrasi
25/Jun/2011, 09:27 PM
Osdolen
Elven Liason

After the long trip back to Rivendell with an errant elf, Ista finds herself once more approaching Osdolen. With a sigh she pats the neck of her blood bay stallion, enjoying the play of his muscles in the summer light. A fine horse, the stallion is descended from her first mount, a black stallion taken from an unsavory creature in Mordor. Several generations removed, this youngest of the line still has his many-times-removed sires conformation and strong muscular structure. Ista passes through the gates of Osdolen into the courtyard where she dismounts and looks about. The last time she had been here was for a short visit, so Ista has no idea where to take her stallion - or herself - to offload her bags for her stay. Getting an idea in mind Ista walks with her blood bay through the streets until she finds the Four Winds Tavern, greeting with smiles and nods the people that she passes by. Leaving her horse out in front Ista enters the Four Winds and looks about for the Innkeeper, to whom she had previously given several letters of mark fromthe Lord Elrond himself. To her, it is a logical place to begin. Spotting Callandil enjoying his own breakfast Ista apologizes. "I am sorry, I did not realize that you might not be open so early. I am looking for the place I am to stay while here in Osdolen, as liason for the elves by Lord Elrond's decree. Perhaps you can direct me, and I can leave you to your breakfast!" Ista says this with a chagrined smile, hoping the Innkeeper would not be too angry at her barging in so early.

Tolkus
26/Jun/2011, 01:50 AM
The WallThalion nodded to the man shapening his knife then gave a short salute to the weapons master ofOsdolen.Thalionlooked out from the wallls and saw another rider aprouching. His keen eyes watched the rider closely and noted right away that this was not a man coming to the the walls but an elf. Not seeing very many Elvescoming this far north Thalion couldn't help himself and watched the rider come into the city and head for the tavern. He then turned his gaze back to the surrounding area outside the walls.

Rian Eliowen
26/Jun/2011, 10:35 AM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV>NPC Dairen - Village of the Four Winds

<DIV>Dairen, a tall dark haired and no longer young veteran mercenary, had been riding for weeks, with one objective in mind: to return home from his long exile and redeem himself in his own eyes. His conscience had finally spurred him to listen to his heart and return home to take up his true calling. <?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><O:P></O:P>
<O:P></O:P>
His mother had always told him that he was destined to be a ranger and follow the demanding and lonely path of his dúnedain grandfather of safeguarding the free peoples in Eriador and to await the return of the long lost king. His mother, however, had not been well regarded by the other ranger families in the village where he lived, and Dairen after enduring the taunts of other children and bearing the ignominy due to the outcast, had become bitter and rebellious. Wanting to see the world he had run away from home at the age of sixteen. Signing on as a guard for a travelling merchant heading east across the mountains he had continued his travels and had not returned home in twenty five years. He knew not what might have become of his sisters (who had been annoying young children when he left) - although he had discovered by chance that his mother had died a few years after his departure, making it even harder for him to return.<O:P></O:P>
<O:P></O:P>Over the last few years, however, he had been hired as a mercenary in Isengard, and had watched the growth of the dark forces in middle earth and perceived that evil was gradually taking hold of the works of Saruman. He could no longer with a good conscience follow orders that seemed wrong. He knew that he was meant to fight on the side of the good and on the behalf of the free peoples - and Isengard had become allied with orcs and other foul creatures. It was long past time to return home.<O:P></O:P>
<O:P></O:P>
Dairenhad searched the rugged and steep terrain of the North Downs patiently for some days to find the hidden entrance to the fabled cavern of which he had heard long ago - where the dunedain had been reputed to have their stronghold of Osdolen. Eventually Dairen found the place and led his horse down the natural earthen and stone stairwell to the ledge, overlooking the village of the Four Winds. The guards at the gate had let him enter, after he had identified himself and briefly explained his intent.<O:P></O:P>
<O:P>
</O:P>He felt grimy and saddle weary as he tied up his tired horse to a nearby tree and entered the tap room. He walked up to the man at the bar and said<O:P></O:P>
“Greetings, friend, I was told to ask for a man called Callandil - do you know where I might find him? I wish to take the oath of the Rangers.”<O:P></O:P>Edited by: Rian Eliowen

Rainelle Hérandil
01/Jul/2011, 07:18 AM
Walking into Osdolen came a tall man dressed in brown trousers and a dark gray shirt, sturdy brown leather boots. He wore a long, nameless sword at his hip and a pack on his back. The cowl of his cloak long, dark blue-green(that color</font></font>) colored cloak was hiding his face, but one could see that his face was freshly shaven. He glanced around as he entered the ranger's hidden stronghold. He took note of a young lady shooting arrows off at the archery range. He thought she looked rather young, but with the Dúnedain looks could be deceiving. He himself, at the moment, looked around in his late thirties, with his face clean shaven. But he was really much older than that.

He strode across the courtyard, observing some men on the wall, and another who was tending to some dogs in a kennel not far away. He watched for a moment, taking note of the activity in each of those areas. He entered the Four Winds and glanced around. He entered just in time to hear a man(Dairen) who had entered just before him, say that he wished to take the oath of the rangers. The unknown man glanced at the other(Dairen), with a small smile appearing on his face. He gave a small friendly nod of greeting to the tavenkeep, Callandil, as he slipped past the man(Dairen) and went to a table over against the wall but kind of in the middle of the wall, a table which he had actually never sat at before.

He laid his pack down in the floor under the table as he slid into the booth and turned so he was facing the room, watching the others that were there. His hood still hid most of his face, and really all that could be seen of him was his lower jaw. With his elbow resting on the table, he leaned his head against his palm comfortably as he studied the people in the room from his position. He thought about what to order for food and drink, knowing that Callandil would probably soon ask him what he would have. Probably some Tubeng. Good stuff. But he wasn't sure what he would have to eat. It was still very early, so he would be getting breakfast, for sure.</font>

Tolkus
01/Jul/2011, 02:50 PM
The WallThalion had walked these walls enough now that he could begin to tell when Rangers that had visited before were returning. This is what he knew now as a man came to the gates. The stride and clothing not to mention the scabered he wore all seem familuar to the Captain. When the man looked at him Thalion caught the glint of his eye in the morning sun. Then he knew whom had returned. Captain Thalion gave a nod in greeting then went back to his century duty with at least one more hour on the wall before he could take a break and get his morning breakfast.

Dinledhwen
03/Jul/2011, 09:15 PM
Osdolen

Word had reached Legolin that an Elven Liason (Ista)from Lord Elrond now frequented this northern Dunedain enclave and the reason given for this was an elf from outside of the area had threatened to board Callandil.

(I believe the elf in question had threatened to draw a sword on the innkeeper and since information can undergo changes when passed from one person to the next I figure it would not be out of the realm for the sword to end up as a board.)

"Board him where?" Legolin had thenasked the informant while grinning. "In a kennel?"

This had the informat laughing. "No they didn't say. Maybe he threatened to hit him with a board."

Long have we elves been allies to the rangers. Why one of us would act the opposite is beyond me," the Laquendi elf had said before he left for Osdolen.

When he reached the city a few days later, he entered with his hood down and his fair voice raised in song praising skill and courage of those who still called it home. Then he made his way to the Four Winds Tavern since that would be the most logical place to start his search for the liason. After he had entered he paused by the door to give himself time to scan who was present in the room before him.

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
04/Jul/2011, 02:52 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

It seemed today was not a good day for Callandil. The innkeeper seemed not to have heard him, and so Dinenol quietly escaped out the back way after leaving the filthy bucket in the kitchen. He made his way around the building, Nienna at his side. He headed over towards the Archery Range. He had seen the Ranger Emeralda wave at him as he had gone to the Four Winds, but his hands had been too busy with the bucket to wave back.

He found Emeralda at the Archery Range, as he had expected to. She had been going in that direction when she had waved. When he arrived there he stood behind Emeralda quietly as she fired off all her arrows, so that he would not disrupt her concentration. When she had exhausted all of her arrows into the target at the far end of the Range, he said, </span></font>"Nice. You have a good eye."

He reached over his shoulder and pulled his unstrung bow from its clasp on the side of his quiver, and then proceeded to string the instrument with practiced ease and skill. When it was strung, he took stance next to Emeralda, fit an arrow to the bowstring, and shot at the target next to hers. His arrow struck in the heart of the target, just as he had known it would. "It is a fine morning is it not?"</font>
</span></font>

Rainelle Hérandil
04/Jul/2011, 11:02 PM
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg
As Emeralda was shooting her arrows, she heard light footsteps coming up behind her, along with a soft panting of a dog. With a quick glance back, she smiled to see Dínenôl and his dog Nienna. She resumed her shooting until she was finished. She blushed slightly to hear his compliment. "Thank you."</font> She said quietly as she stepped to the side to give him room to shoot, seeing that he was stringing his bow. She held her bow down beside her as she waited on him to finsish shooting, so they could both retrieve their arrows.

She nodded at his question of it being a fine morning. "Very lovely, I hope you're having a good day?"</font> She asked cheerfully. She quieted though as he began shooting, since she didn't want to distract him. Though in a battle, of course, there would be many distractions. She smoothed back a few strands of her hair and watched as ranger Dínenôl practiced, smiling to see that he seemed very proficient with the bow.

She waited until he had finished shooting before she asked a question that had occured to her. "By the way, do you know who that man was who went through here and into the Four Winds a moment ago? In the dark bluish green cloak?"</font> She asked curiously. "I noticed him, but I don't think I've ever seen him before, have you?"</font>

(fyi all, it was Strider but he's disguised so no one will recognize him, because he wants to kind of play with the other rangers' minds and see how long it takes them to figure out it's him. cuz he's got a sense o' humor</font> smileys/smiley2.gif</font> it'd be nice if people play along, kay?</font></font>)</font>

Rian Eliowen
05/Jul/2011, 05:14 AM
NPC Dairen

Dairen wasn't sure what to do next, as the bar tender seemed to be preoccupied and did not answer him. Dairen was an experienced soldier his sixth sense was acutely aware of a number of eyes watching him. This wasn't the time or place to start an argument. He noticed a mandressed in brown trousers and a dark gray shirt enter and take a seatata table over against the wall. Dairen decided totake advantage of the movement to diffuse an awkward silence. He casually walked over to the table where the man sat with hisface hidden by his hoodand his head resting on his palm, and introduced himself
"Greetings, I am Dairen, a man of Eriador although I have not lived here for many years. -May I share your table?"

Rainelle Hérandil
05/Jul/2011, 06:08 AM
He watched the man(Dairen) approach, and ask if he could share the table. With a smile, he waved his hand slightly in a gesture of 'go ahead'. He turned to face him more as the man sat down across from him. "Dairen, is it?" He asked quietly, keeping his voice a bit low so others in the room would not recognize it. "So I heard you say you wish to join the rangers?" He asked interestedly, pleased to hear that. He decided to find out a bit more about him, though without telling about himself</font>. He nodded slightly as Dairen said he'd only lived here a few years, </font>. "Where do you hail from originally, friend?" He asked, as he now rested his arm on the table instead of leaning his head on his palm.</font>

Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Rian Eliowen
05/Jul/2011, 07:25 AM
Dairen took a seat at the table, and looked appraisingly at the quiet low voiced man before answering: <?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
"I grew up in a small village called Hoarwell in the lands known as The Angle - you may know ofit." he replied.
"My mother was well known as a herbalist there for a time; her father was a ranger called Halgrim. When I was but a lad my grandfather was killed during a raid against wild men and orcs who had come out of the mountains. After that things became more difficult for us and I am not proud to say that being an unruly youngster I left home when I was but sixteen, hoping to seek my fortune away from there. I have travelled and lived inforeign lands for many years and most recently come from Isengard."
"And what of yourself, do you hail from here?"

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
05/Jul/2011, 03:34 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> emptied his quiver of arrows into the target, pausing only a few moments between shots. All of his shots struck the target he had aimed at, and while not all were in the heart of the target, they all struck where he had intended them to go. As more arrows hit the target, he had moved his aim so that he would not strike previous arrows. </span></font>"My day has not been entirely disagreeable," he answered as he lowered his bow. Then, realizing how cryptic his answer had been, he revised with, "It has been pleasant I suppose. And your own day?"

He motioned that he was finished shooting and headed down the clearing to retrieve his arrows. "I did not see the man you speak of. I exited by the back door just now. Callandil seems quite busy in there, though. In any case, I am still quite new. I have not become familiar with all of the rangers who are here in Osdolen."
</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
06/Jul/2011, 01:28 AM
Four Winds

He listened </font>as Dairen told his story, and gave a slight nod when he mentioned the Angle, in Hoarwell. He smiled faintly when Dairen admitted to </font>being an unruly youngster, leaving home at the age of sixteen. As Dairen finished his short tale, he thought for a moment before replying. "Isengard, you say? I know of that place."

He said thoughtfully. He thought over Dairen's question. "I hail from Imladris." He said simply. "I have been a part of the rangers since I turned 20 years of age." He added. "A hard life, but it has its rewards." He said with a small smile. It was rewarding to see folks live in peace due to the ranger's hard work at keeping the evils at bay, such as those who live in the Shire and Bree lands.</font>

Archery Range

Emeralda watched as Dínenôl fired his arrows. She smiled, then walked with him as he went to retrieve his arrows. She collected her own, and put them back in her quiver.</font> </font></font></font></span>"It has been pleasant I suppose. And your own day?"</font> She nodded. "I suppose it's been well."</font> She said with a smile. "A bit early still to tell for the whole day, but so far the day has been good for me."</font> She said, laughing quietly. "You shoot very well, by the way."</font> She added.

She nodded as he told her he hadn't seen the man she was asking about. "Oh, well I thought you might have, and was hoping you might know him, or at least might have caught his name."</font> She said, a little disappointed, as she was curious.</font> </font></font></font></span>"In any case, I am still quite new. I have not become familiar with all of the rangers who are here in Osdolen."</font> She smiled knowingly. "Yes, I know what you mean."</font> She said, with a small grin. "I took the oath on the same day as you did, remember? In fact, immediately after you."</font> She said, smiling as she remembered the day with happiness, blocking out the unpleasantness that had followed, with the elf whose name escaped her, possibly for the better.

She walked back to the shooting area, after checking to make sure that all of her arrows were accounted for. "Would you like to have a bit of a competition?"</font> She asked with a small grin. She missed her friend Dare, from Archet. They used to meet in a clearing in the Chetwood, a central location between his house and hers, and would practice their weapons together. He usually won against her in swordplay, but she always beat him in archery.</font></font></font></font></span>

Rian Eliowen
06/Jul/2011, 04:32 AM
NPC Dairen - Village of the Four Winds Tavern


Dairen couldn’t say why, but the man opposite him elicited his trust and respect Not something that Dairen often encountered in these troubled times. Despitethe man'squiet and unassuming demeanour there was some thing indefinable about him – an aura of integrity and authority.His small smilegave Dairen enough encouragement for him to ask again about joining the rangers.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
“I have finally come to put right the mistakes I have made in the past, my conscience has directed me here to take the oath of the rangers – if they will have me. Do you know who I should speak to about joining?"

Rainelle Hérandil
06/Jul/2011, 04:51 AM
He smiled as Dairen spoke again of taking the oath and joining the rangers. He brought his hand up to his chin thoughtfully. It felt weird to be smooth, since there was normally stubble on it. "The man to talk to would be Strider." He said calmly. "He's the cheiftain of the rangers. He comes around here every once in a while, when he isn't busy elsewhere." He informed the man, his hand hiding a small smile.

"And if he's not present, there are other rangers who lead different bands, and of course, always Callandil, whom once might speak to about it." He nodded toward the barkeeper as he said the name Callandil. "We are always welcoming to any new man, or woman, who wishes to join, as long as they be sincere and of pure heart, and not ill intent." He added. They had no place for anyone with evil intentions to join their ranks as spies, or anything like that.</font>

Niek Elbadin
06/Jul/2011, 06:54 AM
Niek Elbadin
The Four Winds
</font>



He remembered Osdolen. The dark walls stretched silently out of the barren wilderness, impressing the quiet with it's solemn solitude. Niek took his vow in the depressing shadow of that wall, becoming a man the day he wrapped the dedication of his choice around his future like a weighted cloak.</font>

Twelve years had improved it very little.</font>

Niek Elbadin dragged himself into the clogged crowd of thedilapidatedtavern, wallowing in a healthy dose of childish sulks and self-pity. His mother had sent a rider for him and, as with all things, he couldn't deny her. She was all he had left. And, if life continued in it's depressing fashion, soon she'd leave him too. Her lover was a kind and able ranger, a peer of hers in age, if not birth, and it was only a matter of time before she forsook the vows that bound her to Niek's father and started her life anew.</font>

She could have herself a proper Dunedin family: an army of children with her bright red hair, a solid man of good virtue to call husband, a home with friend and the freedom to wander as she willed. There would be not room for her corsair mutt in her new life.</font>

Whipping off his sodden cloak, Neik cursed the heavy mists that settled across the Lone Lands at sundown. His blood longed for the briny air of Umbar, with her glorious sands and endless sun. The north was too bloody cold.</font>

He waded to the bar, pulling at the leather thong that held his dark hair high away from his face. The tacky strands stuck to his olive skin, leaving him with a sneer of distaste while he fought it back over his shoulder. It wouldn't dry it he left it tied back, but the thick strands turned into a tangled floating halo in the moist evening.</font>

Luckily, he still remembered what the barkeep looked like and he nodded to catch </font><b style="color: rgb204, 0, 0; ">Callandil[/b]'s attention, hoping he might drown the evening's sorrows before they began.</font>


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v620/shasha/earendil.jpg
OOC @ Neik : ((</font> A very well-written post ; I want to tribute you but you don't show up on my console yet. I just thought of removing my badge that symbolizes tributing but I'll leave it here to remind me to give you some points whenever you appear in my console and will let you know when I do. Looking forward to RP'ing with you here, hopefully before the weekend </font>))</font>
</font>
</font>



Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rian Eliowen
06/Jul/2011, 07:14 AM
NPC Dairen - Village of the Four Winds Tavern

Dairen wondered if he wouldbe mistrusted fora spy and had no idea how to prove his good intentions. He actually hadvaluable information to give the rangers about recent happenings in Isengard - but he would wait until he met the right person to communicate that with. Loose tongues often caused great evil.
"What is he like - this chieftan of the Rangers you say is called Strider?" asked Dairen. ""Who would you recommend I sign on with? - Although Iam skilled with weapons andcan read and write,I fear my woodsmanship and trackingskills arefairly rusty. It took me several days to find the cave at the entrance to this village." he admitted ruefully.

Rainelle Hérandil
06/Jul/2011, 09:45 AM
Four Winds tavern

He thought for a moment about Dairen's question. What was Strider like. Interesting question. He smiled slightly to himself, not entirely sure how to answer that. "Perhaps you should ask others who know him better." He said a bit elusively. He didn't say 'others who know him better than I', just 'others who know him better.' He leaned back and thought for a moment about his next question.

"That would be your choice, really. There are several bands." He told him. "As far as I know," He said thoughtfully, "there is the Northern Remnant, the Flight of
Ravens, and the Watchers of Sarn Ford." He paused for a moment and thought sadly of the fate of the first band of Watchers, and wondered briefly about another band which had not been heard from in a long time.

"There was, once, a Southern Winds
band, but we have not heard
from them in a long while." He continued. "As for the Watchers of Sarn Ford, the
original Watchers were ambushed and mostly slain by a new variety of
Orcs which, according to Falconer, our source, is more powerful than
their mountain counterparts. From what I can recall, only one of them
survived; a man name Thurindir, but he was in no condition to continue
his duties. Therefore, this left the South, especially the land of the
Shire, mostly unprotected.

Therefore, the new Watchers of
Sarn Ford was formed, under the leadership of a young but capable man by the name of Hyarion Lossë." He said. He thought over what Dairen has said before. "Your lack of skills with tracking, and in the forest, can be altered. Whichever group you may choose to join after you have taken the oath, I am sure that the current members would help you relearn and brush up on those skills." He assured him.

(sorry ppl, i wanted to tell who each of the leaders of the bands were and give more info, but i couldn't find the info anywhere and no one was online!</font>)</font>

Rian Eliowen
07/Jul/2011, 01:33 AM
Four Winds tavern
NPC Dairen

Dairen knew all about the new breed of orc, having just been in Isengard. He replied "Iknow of these half orcs - "Uruk Hai" I believe they are called. They no longer fear the sunlight as do the mountain goblins and stand almost man high. It would be a black day for the folk of theselands, Bree and the Shire should they ever come South" The news he was hearing all seemed pretty bleak.Dairen sighed, thinking of the death of his grandfather, killed while on patrol with the rangers, and the dark times that followed. " I am sorry to hear of the loss of the original watchers - that would have been a heavy blow to their families too."

Beren Camlost
07/Jul/2011, 09:57 PM
The Four Winds

Greetings, sir elf, welcome to the Four Winds and the fortress of Osdolen. I hope your journey was untroubled, Khallador said to the Elf (Legolin) who stood by the door as he came inside, laying hand over heart. Khallador was unafraid of the Elf, knowing that Lord Elrond and his Herald Aigronding Mordagnir were in charge of sending Elves to help the Rangers. If you need a place to stay, let me know and I can show you to a room here at base. Khallador awaited his response. He was a weather-beaten, well-built man in his early forties ; the bearded Ranger's eyes were an arresting viridian and </font>the brown hair beneath his green fedora was shoulder-length and shaggy, flecked with premature gray. The stern-seeming Ranger clad in a green dustcloak wore a sheathed longsword, Sangwa, at his left hip ; it was a marvelous blade of Westernesse
damasked in crimson and gold, and from his weapons belt hanged a coiled
bullwhip.

Entering the establishment in a purposeful stride was another man. He was younger - perhaps in his early thirties - and taller than Khall. The fellow was muscular, handsome in a rugged sort of way. His eyes were a keen gray and his smile was cheerful ; the stranger's hair - which had a tendency to spill across his brow - was dark and unruly. The brawny man was clad in black but his mantle was silver-gray ; his only weapon was a sword hilted in gold, elven-fair and elven-fell ; the pommel of the longsword was the semblance of a roaring bear, its eyes were garnets. I'll be sitting with the innkeep ; care to join me ? Khallador asked the Elf and before he joined the side of the other man who came into the bar.

Could my cousin and I enjoy your toast and bacon - Khallador began, beseeching Callandil his friend but his companion mouthed "and sausage and porridge" with a grin, elbowing Khallador ; the older Ranger rolled his eyes (his cousin was a big eater) and added - and sausage and porridge, Callandil, but if that's too much to prepare right now that is certainly okay. His cousin sulked. Forgive him, he has quite the appetite. A cup of coffee for me - the other man quickly interrupted, I'll have a tankard of your fearsomely strong cider ; Khall's spoke about it. Khallador gave his younger cousin a withering look. It's the morning, Camlost. His cousin - Camlost - made a lopsided grin, asking So ? simply, and Khallador laughed. Mirthlessly. If Jaena catches you washing down your breakast with alcohol, you won't hear the end of it, Khallador muttered ; she was their younger cousin who was a Ranger who served at the Outpost now that their tour at Sarn Ford was complete for the time being. Khallador caught sight of the golden-haired elf Ista whom he knew and extended his hand towards her.

A pleasure seeing you, miss, Khallador spoke kindly, I want to thank you again for getting rid of that quarrelsome elf the last time I was here ; I know others aren't as bad as him but I'm glad you're on duty just in case. Khallador noticed an olive-skinned, dark-haired man (Niek) at the bar ; Khallador thought his skin was peculiar for someone in the North. Mostly people had pale skin ; perhaps he was a man of the South lands. Hello, stranger ! Khallador called from his seat. I am Khallador, Ranger of the North, and this is my cousin Beren Camlost of Rohan, an adventurer who wants to join the ranks of the Dúnedain. Beren saluted lazily, a two-finger wave, but smiled in a friendly way. How about you take a seat at this here table and tell us about yourself, I don't ever recall seeing you before. If you're a Ranger and stationed here now, well, that makes us as good as brothers, if you don't so mind. Beren nodded firmly and the big man offered nicely : And you can have some of my sausages...like...two. He smirked. The table was close to the bar and Beren was thus able to lift his hand for the man to shake. Folks call me Bear. Khallador smiled, glad that Beren was making friends today and he glanced at the door, hoping that Moriel would appear. He hadn't seen his peredhel friend in months and quite missed the brave, dark-haired elf he liked to adventure with. He rather missed their comradeship and her sarcasm.

</font>







Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Niek Elbadin
07/Jul/2011, 10:22 PM
Niek Elbadin
The Four Winds

The wastes were not a hospitable land, nor were her people hospitable men, and Niek fought with his hard earned paranoia before he agreed to sit with Beren and Khallador. He hoped the men read him as wary instead of nervous, but he had a habit of tossing his head like a skittish horse when he was uncomfortable and it was a hard tell to break. Instead, he reluctantly tied his hair at the nape of his neck to stifle the urge and gave the pair a shallow grin.

"Much appreciated, it's an unpleasant evening to be about. A piece of sausage is close to godliness in this weather," He offered, pulling off his gloves. Niek eyed Beren with reluctant awe. His father had been a fierce man, a terror made of dark eyes and heavy lines painted on his skin, but he was never large, and Lieska, for all her height, was something of a waif. The idea any man could be born so large without a drop of troll blood in his veins was daunting. Not that Niek begrudged Beren his good fortune, but a man could have a healthy dose of envy underneath his natural appreciation.

Khallador, on the other hand, was a much more comforting peer. Niek wasn't a dainty desert flower, but Beren's mass unsettled him. Khallador was a more even match for him. Niek didn't intend to end the evening in a bloody drunken brawl, but that never meant it wouldn't happen nonetheless. If it did, he was directing Beren towards one of the surly fellows across the bar with the studded leather gauntlets. After that, Niek would just have to hope that Khallador fellow was an honest fighter with little defense against fighting dirty, because if he met his mother with a bloody face, she'd tan his hide.

Realizing he'd been remise in his introduction, niek ducked his head and fought to keep his voice even, "Niek Elbadin, thank you for the company. It has been... a long while."</font>




Edited by: Niek Elbadin

Rainelle Hérandil
08/Jul/2011, 04:24 AM
Four Winds

He frowned as he heard this news. Orcs who could tolerate the sunlight? This was not good. He agreed with him that it would be very bad should these orcs come to the Shire and Bree lands. He nodded thoughtfully as he heard Dairen mention about the loss of the men to their families, of the original Watchers of Sarn Ford. It was indeed a terrible loss. With a sigh, he thought sadly of that.

Hearing some cheerful, boisterous talking, he looked toward the bar where several men were gathered, teasing and laughing with each other, when he heard one of the men say "</font>I am Khallador, Ranger of the North, and this is my cousin Beren Camlost of Rohan, an adventurer who wants to join the ranks of the Dúnedain." That man he knew, Beren Camlost. He was interested, hearing that Beren planned to join their ranks. A smile appeared on his face as he watched them, joking and carrying on. More like brothers than cousins. He had not met Beren's cousin, but he seemed rather a lot like Beren in personality. At least at the moment.

He didn't think he felt like being recognized at the moment, though, so he looked back toward Dairen, while still remaining aware of his surroundings, and listening to the group at the counter. He liked to hear as much as he could, even among the other rangers. It was a good way to find out things, even when the other person isn't talking to him. He noted Beren's cousin, the one who had stated his name as Khallador, talking to the elven lady who was in the tavern, and heard mention of the elf who had reportedly caused so much trouble. Rolling his eyes slightly in annoyance at the rememberance of the mere mention that incident, he turned most of his attention back to Darien.

"So tell me, you have spoken of your mother, and of her father Halgrim, who was a ranger, but you have yet to speak of your father. May I inquire as to that, who he is, and what sort of man that he is or was? Or is that a subject too near to your heart to discuss?" He asked quietly, though he was curious about that. Had Dairen intentionally left out any mention of his father? He wondered if Dairen would answer his question or not. As he had no idea what the situation might be with the man's father, he had no idea if he thought well of his father, if his father may be dead, or if he might not even know who his father was, therefore, he had asked.</font>

Moriel
08/Jul/2011, 06:55 AM
Stables to the Four Winds


“Behave yourself.” Moriel flicked Beron’s muzzle lightly. The stallion jerked his head up, greatly offended, from where he had been lipping and pulling at the long waves of her black hair. He stood stony and haughty, if a bit ridiculous, as she resettled his hoof between her knees and finished prying a small errant stone and clod of dirt from the frog. “There!” The peredhel released Beron’s leg and straightened, thrusting the hoof pick back into its bag that hung from a nail in the stall. “You great fool.” She took his face in her hands and stroked it gently, pressing her cheek into the curve of his neck where it met the powerful jaw and inhaling his sweet, musty scent. Beron whuffed forgivingly at her and leaned against her shoulder for a moment- before letting out a demanding whinny. Moriel laughed and went from the stall, returning quickly bearing an armload of clean hay, which she deposited in a corner. The stallion went for it eagerly, swishing his full black tail as he munched. After checking to make sure that the water trough was full, the peredhel stepped from the stall again and closed the door’s lower half. Beron looked up from his feast and whickered softly. Moriel smiled. “We won’t be here long. Soon we shall roam again, my friend, and no walls will bind you. Rest for now.” Seemingly satisfied, the stallion returned to his meal, and the peredhel strode down the stable, rolling her shoulders back to adjust the baldric which held her twin falchions, crossed across her back.

The courtyard was quiet, and the grey morning air held the promise of rain. It seemed to Moriel that it was seldom that Osdolen was not grey, and as her cobalt gaze swept the area, she found little to relieve it of its dismal nature. She much preferred the hidden city by night or twilight, when the light offered shadows and changing moods to the downs and buildings. There was, at least, one place of changeability within Osdolen, and the peredhel hurried across the courtyard to the Four Winds, whose doors opened before her gratefully. The noise, color, and smells of good food were a shock and relief after the ceaseless weeks spent in the far north, skirting orc, Wildman, and many other foul things besides in the hills of Angmar and wastes surrounding. Though she had never found herself in any exceeding danger nor worry of starvation, even the peredhel, who had seen far worse in her life, was glad of the tavern’s simple pleasures. And companionship. Though she was generally a solitary creature, Moriel’s face cracked into a smile at the sight of Khallador, seated near the bar with two men (Beren and Niek) she had never met.

Swiftly Moriel picked her way through to their table and extended her hand in the manner of men to greet her friend. “Khallador, well met! Good to see you haven’t been getting into too much mischief on your travels. You, on the other hand,” the peredhel turned to face the second man and looked at him appraisingly, one brow slightly arched, “I expect you have been getting into a great deal of mischief, Camlost, if what I have heard of you is true. Have you come to settle amongst the northern folk? I daresay you’ll find some outlet for your thirst for adventure here.” Moriel relieved Beren of his cider and took a long draft. “And you,” she pointed at the third man (Niek), “I do not know you at all, but if the cunning of the south and the starlwart spirit of the north have met in you to create a ranger, then I am glad to have you among our company. I am called Moriel.” She finished, turning to deposit the tankard back into Beren’s hands. “Well? Can none of you offer a lady a seat?”</font>




Edited by: Moriel

Niek Elbadin
08/Jul/2011, 07:11 AM
Niek Elbadin
The Four Winds

Niek did not dislike elves, but he did have a deep wariness for their ability to turn the deepest man utterly transparent in a matter of words. He swallowed as Moriel addressed him, hunching down into himself as she spoke. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his heritage or holding it secret, but she spoke as if she knew far more than his features suggested.

It was disquieting.

It was with petty satisfaction that he refused to share his seat with the lady, instead protecting it with a narrow-eyed look and a silent stubborn jaw.</font>

Rian Eliowen
08/Jul/2011, 07:34 AM
The Four Winds
NPC Dairen

Dairen looked up as several more people entered the room - who clearly felt at home here. He wondered if he too might one day belong here and be greeted as an equal by these obviously competent fighters.He sighed before answering his new acquaintance's question - it was a topic he unconsciously avoided."There is a saying in the Breelands that it is a wise man who can claim to know his father - and it is an apt saying in my case. My mother was on umm... close terms with a number of men from our village and any of them could have been my father - although none of them showed my sisters or I much kindness after my grandfather died. Perhaps they were too afraid of what their wives might think. However it caused me to feel quite bitter as a lad, and that was partly the reason I left home. Over the years I have come to appreciate that mine is not such an unusual story, and I now understand the situation better. I have been hoping that someone in these parts may have news of what became of my sisters, for although I wrotewhen I heard from a chance traveller thatmy mother had died ,I know not if my letters ever reached them."Dairen broke off in surprise as a strikingly attractive female elf entered the room and joined the newcomers."Things are quite different in this village to how I had imagined" he said smiling for the first time since he had entered the room. "This seems to be a busy time for the bartender"

Dinledhwen
08/Jul/2011, 08:14 PM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">The Four Winds Tavern
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">"Greetings Khallador! My name is Legolin and my journey here was as untroubled as a fine summer's day!" Legolin replied in his usual merry elvishway withhis hand over his heartafter the man had finished introducing and speaking to him. Now the former the elf had not needed since he already knew who the man was from his last conversation with his close friendBalian Alarion a Dunadan ranger recently returned to his northern homeland.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">"I have no need for a room sinceI fear I would go stir crazy in its confinesafterspending most of my long years in the free airoutdoors!" he added with a laughafter Khallador had offered such for him.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Not long after that another man enter (Beren Camlost) and Legolin instantly recognized him from what Balian had said. However, he did not reveal this nor his knowing about Khalladorand instead remained silent while hegave the secondman a smile of greeting while again placing his hand over his heart.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">"Khallador I will gladly take you up on your offer to join you and your friend!" the elf then agreed before he followed after the two men.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Then a flurry of joinings and arrivals surrounded those by thebar and than a nearby table. This the Laiquendi elf watched with interest while he stayed by the bar where a golden haired female elf (Ista) stood and who had to be the laison he had been looking to meet judging from Khallador's words to her.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">However, Legolin'sattention was diverted to thetablewhen he sensed a man's (Niek's) negative reaction to the arrival of another female elf (Moriel).Edited by: Legolin

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
10/Jul/2011, 03:28 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> plucked his arrows from the target he had fired at and returned them to his quiver. </span></font>"Indeed the day is far from over. Much could happen before the sun sleeps again." Then she complimented him on his shooting and he inclined his head. It required little or no response at all. After all, he had complimented her and she was now returning the gesture. An inclination of the head was a suitable answer.</font> However, her comment a moment later regarding the oath did prompt a reply out of him. </span></font>"Indeed, I do recall that as well." He smiled ever so slightly. "I'm afraid I am still working to connect names to faces and then to events. Now that you speak of it I remember with clarity that you were there in the Four Winds when I took my oath and that you pledged your allegiance only moments later."

He followed her in silence back to the imaginary line that they had stood at to shoot, and she asked, </font>"Would you like to have a bit of a competition?"</font></font></font></font></font></span> He shrugged. "Sure, I suppose. A bit of competition never hurts." He did not draw an arrow, however. He simply stood and waited to allow her to go first, the lady that she was.</font>

Tolkus
10/Jul/2011, 03:49 PM
The WallThalion checked the sun and looked out over the wall and saw nothing at this time. His stomic grumbled a might for it was getting time for his usuale trip to the Four Winds. He grabed his sack and headed down the wall to go get his morning meal.As Thalion made his way across the courtyard he gave his daily greeting to the Archery Range when he passed by. Iwasn't long before Thalion was at teh doors of the Four Winds.The Four WindsWhen Thalion walked in he took of those he this late morning and made his way to the bar. At the bar he threw his sack on the bar and called to Callandil, "The usual, if you please my good man." He leand aginst the bar and looked out at the peole as he waited for his food.

Tarawen
11/Jul/2011, 05:32 AM
Approaching Osdolen</font>
</font>It was time. Time for her to move on from the cramped life of the city. That's what she had to keep telling herself, anyway, as her old traveling companion and steed Sirdal tramped up and over what seemed like an endless line of damp hills and muddy dells, on her way to the hidden refuge of the northern Rangers. She needed this. Needed to put her restlessness at ease, odd as it sounded, by seeking the kind of lifestyle she had envisioned since she was a teen living in Minas Tirith, begging her father for lessons in swordsmanship. Now she bore his sword, along with her bow, as she searched for this place she had heard whispers of on the long road from the South.</font>
</font>As they continued picking their way through foliage, Tarawen noticed the ground sloping downwards--and Sirdal faltered uncharacteristically at the gaping mouth of a cavern. This was it. She nudged Sirdal forward with her heels and a soft clicking sound. The horse found his way slowly, as Tarawen's steel-grey eyes adjusted to the darkness. When they emerged onto the hidden ledge, Tarawen beheld for the first time the gates and Wall of Osdolen. All was quiet, as she took it all in, dark hair blowing in her face, an hourly annoyance she was surprised she hadn't dealt with earlier. She whipped her long tresses into a quick braid before bidding Sirdal to a trot and approach the wall.</font>
</font>Passing The Wall</font>
</font>The wind whispered to Tarawen as Sirdal bore her toward the wall. She heard echoes of her mother's last words to her and her father's laughter, the hearing of which only made her more determined than ever to push on and take the Oath of the Rangers. She saw from a fair distance the windswept figures of men standing along the wall, but found her nerves on fire with anticipation at finding the place where she could take the Oath.</font>
</font>Stables and Four Winds</font>
</font>The stables seemed like a logical next step--Sirdal needed lodging appropriate for such a willing and loyal mount. These stables were not the most prime of equine real estate, but they would have to do. Sirdal had legged a long journey and was showing signs of exhaustion. Tarawen dismounted, patting his neck a few times before moving to stroke his nose. She found another horse stabled there, and walked Sirdal over to him. Tarawen noted the fresh musty scent given off by the horses as she piled some hay in front of him. "There you go, old friend," she said, stroking his nose again. He grunted softly out of appreciation and began to eat. Seeing that he was at the least comfortable, Tarawen walked out of the stables and toward a tavern of sorts that was clearly quite a hub. She could see the blurred forms of men through the windows, and could hear the dull murmur of their conversation through the walls.</font>
</font>Tarawen entered, brushing stray twigs of hay off her dark and muddy dress as she went. Her boots were a lost cause--the tavern's clientele and floor would have to deal with her dank footwear. She gave the room a quick glance and saw a small group gathered around a table--"Too much for now," she thought. She wanted information, and she wanted it quick. She often found that large groups were hard to direct to a point, so she scanned the room a little further. She noticed a man (Thalion) sitting at the bar waiting, it seemed, for a drink. She approached and greeted him: "Good day to you, sir. My name is Tarawen. I come from Minas Tirith seeking to take the Oath of the Rangers--and a pint of good drink wouldn't hurt, either." She smiled at him, ifa tad warily,then went on, "Any way you could point me in the right direction? For either of those things," she added. "Do you mind if I sit down?" She gestured to the chair next to him and waited to see if he would be of any help.</font>






Edited by: Platypus

Tolkus
11/Jul/2011, 07:55 PM
The Four WindsThalion was waiting on his food when a young lady came in and sopke to him. He gave a sly smile as though he knew something others didn't and then spoke most kindly to her, "Yes please have a seat. You have come to right place for both. Callendil has some fine drinks and as for your oath part..." he paused a second then point to a ragged looking Ranger(Rillewen) sitting with a few others. "That's the fellow you want to talk to about the oath." He gave a nod of his head and siad, "Sorry forgot my manners, the names Thalion. Captian of the Wall guard." He smiled at her again and said, "Long way from home. If you don't mind me asking, what you doing up this way?"

Tarawen
12/Jul/2011, 08:49 PM
The Four Winds</font>
</font>Tarawen grew a bit wary when the stranger smiled at her--something about it seemed slightly off. However, she was so relieved to hear that he could tell her where to take the oath she felt she must at least sit for a short while to show she was not simply going to use him for information. "Thanks for the information. Any idea what his name is?" she said. "Captain of the Wall Guard, eh? What's that like? You off duty right now?" she asked, perceiving that this man probably had loads of information about Osdolen in store.</font>
</font>"As for what I'm doing up here," she went on, "I've been cooped up in Minas Tirith for almost my whole life. As I grew up I wanted to see more of the world and the ancient Numenorean kingdoms. But I was there for a long time, caring for my mother after my father died. My brother was too busy with his healing arts to be much in the way of help," she said, hoping the bitter edge of these words wouldn't be too obvious. She took a deep and what she hoped would be a calming breath. "My mother died four months ago. After that my desire to see lands beyond the Southern Kingdom combined with my father's teachings in how to hold one's own against enemy forces meant a trip up the old North-South road to sign on with the rumored Rangers of the North."</font>
</font>Tarawen realized she had given him a lot of information about herself, but nothing she had said would give him anything to hold over her. She was always cautious about that with strangers, not knowing very well how or how soon to trust. She had nothing to hide, but also nothing to gain from saying too much about her past personal life or feelings. "I've gone and chewed your ear off, I'm afraid," she said to Thalion, smiling slightly and leaning over the bar to see if she could spot to barkeep to place an order.</font>

Edited by: Platypus

Rainelle Hérandil
12/Jul/2011, 09:46 PM
Four Winds

He listened as Dairen told how he did not know who his father was. He nodded slowly and understood how such a thing might make the man, as a boy, feel bitter. His own father had died when he was very young, and he really only knew about him what others had told him of the man, but at least he had someone to call his father. This man had no name, even, and he couldn't help feel a bit of sympathy toward him. Though, not knowing if showing sympathy might offend the man, he made sure not to show that openly. "It is sometimes hard for a man to grow up without a father, or at least someone to act as a father." He said quietly, understandingly.

He too looked over as an elf woman(Moriel) entered the room, nay a half elf, if he was correct. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her take a sip of Beren Camlost's tubeng and then,</font> almost</font> as if she owned the place, demanded a seat from one of them. Of course he could tell that she knew at least one of the members of that group, and that she was teasing them. "Things are quite different in this village to how I had imagined.. This seems to be a busy time for the bartender."</font> He heard Dairen say. He glanced back at Dairen and noticed him smiling. That scene was indeed amusing, so it wasn't so surprising that the man would smile at that. He gave a small grin.

"Aye, the Dunedain tend to be a close bunch, kinsmen who band together to fight against the evils that beset the land." He commented, nodding slightly. He still kept his voice down, because he knew there were some in this room who would recognize his voice and he hadn't given them nearly enough time to start guessing at who he was. In fact, it seemed that he was, for the most part, being ignored. Or not even noticed. Hmm, that didn't seem right for a place full of rangers. They should be curious about his identity at the very sight of a newcomer!</font>


Archery Range

Emeralda looked up at the sky, seeing how it looked a little overcast. "Yes, such as a bit of rain, perhaps."</font> She added onto Dínenôl's comment of how much could happen before the sunset. She smiled and noticed that he waited for her to take the first shot, like a gentleman. With a slight inclination of her head, as a thank you, she leaned her bow against a post and quickly re-pinned her hair up. It had fallen down from when she put it up before, and the steady breeze was blowing it around, which was annoying her slightly. Finished with that task, she smiled an apology at Dinenol and grabbed her bow again, quickly putting arrow to the string. She pulled it back to her cheek and took aim, pausing for a second, then released and watched as the arrow hit in the center circle, but not in the dead center of the circle. It was closer to the edge of the line, and she bit her lip as she lowered her bow and nodded at Dinenol to indicate that it was his turn. She knew it was a good shot, but she thought she shouldn't have hesitated so much.

(@ Mar:since Dinenol and Emeralda both seem to be exceptional archers, I suggest that we use 1 d4 with this &gt;&gt;website (http://www.wizards.com/dnd/dice/dice.htm)&lt;&lt;

1 is a dead bullseye hit, 2 is in the bullseye but on the edge by the line, 3 is in the next to circle just outside the bullseye but close to the very innermost line, and 4 is also in the circle just outside the bullseye but close to the outermost line, like so: http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Miscellaneous/archery_target.png

I just rolled:
Roll(1d4)+0:
2,+0
Total:2</font>)</font>


Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
13/Jul/2011, 01:39 AM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> watched and waited patiently as Emeralda put her hair up. It was not difficult to do. He had honed his patience to a fine level; he could sit and wait for hours without squirming, if needed. And its not like his current view was boring. When she completed her task and raised her bow, he drew an arrow of his own, just to be ready. She took aim carefully and released her arrow. It did not strike the center, but was close to it. Then it was Dinenol's turn, and he put his drawn arrow to the bowstring, raised his bow, and drew the string back as she had. He released upon sighting the target. It was certainly not his best shot. It would have killed, if he had been aiming at a deer or man, but it was not the dead center at all...</span></font>

OOC@Rille - (okay, so the lowest score is best? My stats: Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4</font>)

Rainelle Hérandil
13/Jul/2011, 02:25 AM
Archery Range

Emeralda watched while Dinenol shot his arrow, and got her next one ready. She waited until he had hit the target. It was a good shot, but not as close as hers had been. She felt no desire for gloating, though she felt a very tiny tinge of satisfaction and pride. But she knew her next shot could probably be the same or worse. Plus, Dinenol was a really good archer. Much better than her friend from Archet. So his shot, which he might consider really bad, was still far better than many others could have done.

When it was her turn, she shot quickly, putting the arrow on the string, aiming, and firing in about the space of 2-3 seconds. The arrow hit the target just below her first arrow, a fraction of an inch closer to the bullseye than before, but still not satisfactory to her. It was far better than her friend Dare could shoot, but she was more concerned about making her shot perfect than just making sure she could shoot better than one boy. She'd also have to work on her sword fighting skill, but later. She lowered her bow and looked back to Dinenol, waiting for his next shot.

(</font>yes, that would be correct. and here's my roll:
Roll(1d4)+0:
2,+0
Total:2
2 again.</font> smileys/smiley3.gif)</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
14/Jul/2011, 03:00 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> observed silently as Emeralda took another shot. She took her time, as he did, and when she finally drew the bowstring, aimed, and shot in a matter of moments, he watched the arrows progress and saw that it had slammed into the target just about where her first one had struck. She lowered her bow for him to take a shot. He could shoot as fast as her, he knew, but he also knew he tended to have better results if he gave himself a fraction of a moment longer upon sighting his target. He knew that waiting too long would make it harder to aim -- one had to hold one's breath while firing, after all, otherwise the slight sway of one's breathing would throw the aim off, and it was difficult to remain steady for longer than a few moments. He also knew that if you shot too soon it was harder to properly aim in time. It was a careful balance, one that every seasoned archer had to go through every time he -- or she -- took up a bow and arrow.

Dinenol pulled out another arrow and put it to the string. He took a proper stance for archery and then simultaneously he brought up both arms -- one outstretched holding the bow up, and the other pulled the string back until his hand was anchored at his mouth. As his arms raised to their proper positions he immediately sighted the target and released a moment later. This time he was satisfied to see that his arrow had struck the dead center of the target: a proper bulls-eye. That was much better...
</span></font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1; Cumulative score: 5 --- Should we keep track of our cumulative score too?</font>)

Rainelle Hérandil
15/Jul/2011, 01:17 AM
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg

Emeralda smiled when Dinenol's arrow struck the exact bullseye. "Good shot." She said quietly. She glanced down and smiled at the dog, sitting there quietly and patiently watching Dinenol shoot his arrows. It was now her turn, so she pulled out another arrow and drew back, pausing a second to aim. Perhaps a second too long or short. It was a good shot, but not as good as she was used to. Her third arrow slammed into the target half an inch from the other, it was only about the width of the arrow's shaft closer to the bullseye than the last arrow.

As she selected another arrow and stepped back to allow Dinenol to shoot again, she wondered why her aim seemed slightly off today. Maybe it was the wind? No, she'd accounted for that. She wasn't sure why she wasn't hitting where she should have. But then she figured she might be being a bit hard on herself. After all, she'd just made three excellent shots, all in a tight cluster. If only she could do that about an inch to the left, then her cluster of arrows would be right dead on the bullseye. She kept her arrow on the string so she'd be ready to shoot again when it was her turn next.

(wow, i keep getting the same thing! grrr. lol
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total: 2
Cumulative score: 6
and sure, i guess it would be better to keep a total record. also, how many times should we go through this? should we post for each arrow we have? Emma has 24 arrows (like the rangers in RA have... lol))

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
15/Jul/2011, 04:35 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> smiled slightly. </span></font>"Thank-you." He too glanced down at Nienna, his ever-faithful dog, and felt guilty when he realized he had completely forgotten about her. "Good shot, Nienna?" She gave him a sarcastic look and he grinned at Emeralda. "Nienna agrees with you." He chuckled slightly, and waited for her to shoot again. Once again her arrow struck about the same region, and he said, "Nice. At least your shots have a steady rhythm to them. Sometimes mine, while accurate, are rather randomized..." He shrugged and pulled his third arrow out.</font>

Then he paused. </span></font>"Have you ever competed in real tournaments before? I was in one once, and while combatants started out firing just one arrow at a time, they stepped it up until sometimes you had to fire multiple arrows in quick succession. Of course, they were made to fire at moving targets, but we could still fire multiples. The rule was that you had to fire an equal amount or more arrows than your opponent had when it became your turn again. So, I could fire one, or I could fire two right now." To show her, he took his stance, raised his bow, aimed and shot then instantly, almost without moving his bow arm at all he pulled another arrow -- his fourth total -- from his quiver, fit it to the string and shot, all of it so fast that the second was in the air almost as soon as the first had left the bowstring. Both arrows soared through the air and struck the target. The first struck the bulls-eye, though the second fell hideously short. He turned to face Emeralda and said, "Now, if you want to do this, you must fire either two or three arrows. In competitions if any one of your arrows makes a poor enough strike you are out of the competition, but since its just the two of us we don't need to do that. My second arrow would probably have disqualified me, it is so bad..."</font>

OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1; Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4; Cumulative score: 10 (4 arrows shot) -- yeah, 24 arrows worth each then off to the Four Winds for breakfast; I figure we ought keep track of how many arrows we have shot too, so that we know when we have used all 24</font>)

Rainelle Hérandil
16/Jul/2011, 08:08 AM
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

Emeralda shook her head. "No, I've never competed with anyone before, except my friend Dare-ius."</font> She said, changing it quickly from Dare, his nickname, to Darius, his actual name. "He lives in Archet, not so far from where I grew up."</font> She said, smiling at the memories of her childhood spent playing in the forest with her best friend Dare. She watched while he did two shots in quick succession, and nodded slightly to show she understood the method. When it was her turn, she decided to try three arrows. Not at the same time, that was difficult. She should know, she'd tried it before, when playing around with Dare in the forest back home.

She drew her first arrow and fired it off, displeased to see that it hit just outside the line of the ring where the other arrows she'd shot so far had struck. Right next to her first arrow. She quickly fired off the second, giving herself a second longer to shoot. This one was in the same area as the others had been so far, and she hoped her next one would get closer to the mark. She hesitated a bit too long on this one, and to her dismay it hit within the same ring as her first arrow of this round, only it was even farther from the inside of the circle. It was closer to the outside ring. She let out a soft sigh as she stepped back again. Of course, maybe it wasn't just her. The wind had picked up a bit right as she was releasing the arrow, it would have messed with her aim a bit. And she wasn't able to account for it beforehand since it had only picked up right as she was shooting, of course. Oh well. She smiled down at Nienna as she waited for Dinenol to make his next shot.

(Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
</font></font>Cumulative score: 15
Arrows shot: 6</font>)</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
17/Jul/2011, 01:41 AM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> listened and smiled. </span></font>"You grew up near Archet? Did you like it there? I've been through Bree many times, of course, but never really stayed long. Just a brief night or two in the Prancing Pony before moving on. Longer if I specifically had business in the area." Then he quieted as she shot off three arrows. She did not fire as swiftly as he had, but it was still quick. It seemed the wind rose up a bit as she did, and he saw with some disappointment that all three of her arrows fared poorly. "Aw, better luck next time, I hope!" He gave her a sympathetic smile, feeling not an ounce of glee. He was never one to boast or gloat. He truly hoped she did better.

He decided not to press his luck though. If his last shot was anything to go by, three arrows might prove just as difficult for him as they had for Emeralda, and so he decided he would do three and no more, at least for the time being. He wasn't sure he wanted to step up the rate to four arrows at once just yet. As it turned out his judgment was sound for all three of his shots did poorly. For each of her arrows one of his struck right nearby. His first arrow did moderately well, but then his second did worse and his third was abysmal. "Ah well," he commented as he stood back to allow her another turn.
</font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Cumulative score: 19 (7/24 arrows
shot)</font>)

Beren Camlost
17/Jul/2011, 05:54 AM
The Four Winds

http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif

Are you sure ? No bedroom at all ? Khallador asked, wide-eyed at the elf Legolin and Beren clapped Khallador on the back. Legolin probably will be comfortable in that tree out there, he said with a laugh, winking at the Silan Elf whose kindred enjoyed forests and streams and lakes and mountains ; Khallador didn't know elves too well besides Moriel whom he was always speaking about. And she was one of the Noldor, or so she told him if Beren remembered well. Khallador smiled at Niek. It's a hard life in the North - the rough-hewn man began but his fairer cousin, Beren, interrupted : It's hard plenty of other places, too. Khallador gave him an unkind look ; he didn't like to be reminded that Beren was better traveled. Like the South. Having Mordor for a neighbor isn't that delightful. Beren looked at Niek ; Bear had been a lot of places, seen a lot people. This guy is pretty nice but not much a social butterfly, Camlost thought and determined to let the man have just a bit of space. Just how long of a while, Niek ? Beren asked, and then after a moment added with a kind smile : If you don't mind telling us a bit about yourself. Beren was intrigued ; the man's coloring resembled skin of the folk in the deep south and Camlost wondered why a man of Umbar was here in the North. Bear knew people and he had the feeling this guy wasn't bad news - not everyone who hailed from there was a spy or a cut-throat - but perhaps he was running from something or wanted to re-invent himself.

Beren watched a striking, dark-haired woman approach the table. She wasn't lovely - exotic was a better word. Hello, beautiful, Beren uttered, awed by the Ranger's sublime pulchritude. An elf - as ethereal as she was there could be no doubt about that. That's my friend, Khallador said excitedly and Beren rolled his eyes. What ? Khallador asked innocently. I ain't never seen a guy so happy to see such a foxy friend before, it's kinda' amusing ; sometimes I wonder about you, man, Beren said with a chortle. Look at her, cos, Beren said, enraptured. Seriously, how could a guy just have that - he lifted his hands and sculpted Moriel's hourglass figure with flowing movements of his hands - for just a friend. Khall, it should be girlfriend, but since you were inept enough not to change that, I'll be sure to not make the same mistake. Noldor elf right ? Khallador acknowledged she had Noldor blood but had to correct him - Moriel was a peredhel. Half-elf. No wonder, Beren thought aloud, marveling at her again. Good-lookin' has the best of both worlds....

When she came to the table hailing him, Khallador laughed. Well, I've received word from the secretary of Mayor Jack Harkness of Bree - Beren mouthed the word 'secretary' and sat in thought, probably wondering what she looked like and if he knew her somehow - needs a Ranger to investigate a serial murderer in Bree, thinking it might be some killer out of the Lone Lands or down the Greenway ; I'm leaving tomorrow, Moriel. Think you might be interested, partner ? Or is Osdolen and Angmar where you need to be ? Khallador knew Moriel could take care of herself but he was alarmed by the frequency of Moriel's espionage ever since the assassination of Damrod, King of Angmar ; so far there was a power vacuum in Angmar and Moriel wanted to find out when a ruler was chosen. You know my name, lissiorë ("Sweetheart," Quenya) ? Beren asked with a grin in Common, calling her an endearment in Quenya, showing off his mastery of an elven tongue, trying to be charming, the cad. Khallador must had told you I'd be the handsomest fella' here ? Putting in a good word for his cos, yeah ? Khallador palmed his brow with a groan, muttering : "And so it begins...." Beren winked at her. I knew who you were before you swayed in here - Khallador muttered that Moriel hadn't swayed into the Four Winds - because Khallador often told me how fetching you look. Khallador's cheeks flushed. Moriel...I did not use that word, I swear to you - Bear's cousin began to lie (really, Moriel was quite attractive and a man would be a fool not to profusely speak about it) and Camlost tittered.

He folded his muscular arms, as Moriel spoke of his mischief-making. I'm afraid, my dear, that it would be impolite to speak of half my mischief at the breakfast table. Khallador actually burst into a gale of laughter. How about I tell you of my adventures ? Khallador shook his head, remarking dryly : You have too many. Beren waved dismissively. Then only the good ones then, he said simply, beaming. I could tell her about that one time I saved Princess Leona - Khallador interrupted with the grace of a slicing knife : Leesha. Princess Leesha. Khallador got a little sick of how Beren always forgot a woman's name ; he was quite the gentleman although he looked like a grim highwayman. Beren flung up his hands. Whoa, whoa, okay ! Yeah - he looked at Moriel - Princess Leesha. He struck a heroic pose from where he sat. Whom I rescued from the Wereworms of the Last Desert !

Beren added in a reflective tone : I was given a substantial reward by her king father, Moriel......he summoned a cavalry to chase me down to recover it though - and remove my head...and probably other pieces of me - once after he discovered how gracious Leesha had awarded me. Beren smirked, leaned back in his chair, taking a long pull of his fearsomely strong cider. Khalladorstared at him, shaking his head, muttering Beren Camlost. The big man looked at his cousin. There should be a Bold in there somewhere..... Anyways.... he looked back at Moriel. Or perhaps I should tell you about that time when the Council of Seven charged me with slaying the She-bat of Sharu. Khallador interrupted, saying he thought it was a giant ape he had slain in Darkland named Aran Kong but Camlost ignored him and the quip that he was a 'serial exaggerator' ; he didn't want Moriel to think he was too much of a pirate. Or perhaps I could tell you about the korriban I slew at the Sea of Rhûn. Now that was a harrowing experience. I'm still kinda' sad about it though. Long golden hair...sparking eyes...laughing lips.... Well, I'm happy to say that no man can be lured to his watery death anymore.

Beren took another sip of his cider - now rather emptied - and watch Moriel drink from his tankard. That's like kissing me, peredhel, Beren mentioned with a lopsided grin, so you drink as much as you like, lisse ("Honey," Quenya). Oh, and as for where I'm staying at, the Herald of Elrond whom I'm buddies with - Beren winked - got me a room at the Last Homely House. And, of course, I'll be staying here at Osdolen, when I must. Beren smiled softly. I stay with someone close, Malvina Teague - Khallador started but Beren didn't notice this - when I tarry in Bree. I must see her, it's been three years.... Moriel wanted a seat, it seemed. Beren waited. No one offered her one - probably too shocked by how gorgeous she was and Niek...didn't seem to like her too much for revealing his background in one shot. Beren innocently asked Moriel, gesturing : Would my lap suffice ? Khallador elbowed Beren in the side and with a laugh he pulled a chair out for her to sit next to him. Oh, please, Beren said incredously, you can't believe she's going to sit next to you. I'm the better-looking, you know..... Beren noticed that there was a guy (Aragorn) looking at him from across the way. Weather-beaten, clean-shaven gent wearing a gray shirt and brown trousers ; his hooded cloak, a dark teal hue, concealed his visage well but.... I know that guy, Beren muttered to himself, tapping the air with his finger, deep in thought...... Whoever he was, the stranger must knew him, too.....</font>














Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Ista Sharrasi
17/Jul/2011, 10:02 PM
The Four Winds
Elven Liason

Ista finds herself unanswered by the bartender, but as more people trickle into the Inn she is greeted by several. It would seem she was popular without even knowing it. Finding herself a seat at the bar Ista returns the greetings, and takes her time watching the variety of peoples who came in and out of the Inn. With such an interesting array of people, perhaps she would just take a room here. Ista watches as Khallador - an ellon who had thanked her for removing the wayward elf - talks with a variety of others. Her eye is caught by another male looking her way, and she overhears that his name is Legolin. He looked about to approach her, but then moves to a different table to talk with the people there. Ista keeps to herself, waiting either for the proprietor to notice her, or for someone to come her way to chat. Until she is situated in a room and her horse taken care of she would not be taking up the mantle of the Elven Liason. It is hard to do so, she muses, without knowing the area and getting introduced to the variety of people currently in residence.She had to know who belonged, and who does not, and who lived or stayed where, and the names of those who are out on patrol. For now, Ista watches the people talk amongst themselves.

Moriel
18/Jul/2011, 03:57 AM
The Four Winds


"Hmm." Moriel considered Beren as he began to go on about his adventures and the rescue of some princess he couldn't seem to remember the name of, and turned to Khallador, one eyebrow raised. "I see you weren't exaggerating after all." The play between the two cousins was amusing, though she felt for her friend, who was clearly embarrassed by and long suffering in dealing with, his younger relative's behavior. However, if there were ever a woman equipped to deal with a scoundrel like Camlost, it was Moriel. The peredhel lounged against the table and let him run on, his boasts growing more and more outrageous, meanwhile observing him carefully. The fact that Khallador merely added commentary rather than out and out denouncing his cousin indicated that there was some truth to all the japes, and that the reputation he clearly thought he had was at least somewhat earned. Unfortunately, the fact that he realized his great good looks and the effect they could have on women had inflated his head to glorious proportions. It was true that he probably was the handsomest man in the room, but also the most full of hot air. Moriel had known men like Beren before, and whether they were really scoundrels or goodhearted fools varied as much as their tales. The way his voice softened when he spoke of this Malvina Teague and the fact that Khallador had vouched for him tended to lead the peredhel to believe that Camlost</font></span> fit in the latter category, but that would remain to be seen.

When Beren offered her his lap for a seat Moriel pushed away from the table and swayed -this time she did sway, quite deliberately- around him, as though to circle him and take up his offer from the other side, allowing her hand to brush across the back of his chair and shoulders lightly… Before continuing on to take her seat beside Khallador, in the chair the elder ranger had so graciously pulled out for her. "As well you should know him," Moriel answered Camlost's muttered assertion that he knew the man (Aragorn) who seemed to be watching them. "He is our Chieftain, the leader of the Dúnedain. I have not met him personally, as when I came to renew my vows he was here, but leaving on urgent business, and I instead treated with Halbarad, but I know much of him." The peredhel turned to Khallador next to her and shook her head, finally answering his neglected question. "No friend, I do not think I can accompany you this time. Osdolen and Angmar are indeed where I need be. There is unrest and rumblings in the north as you well know, and I rather use my skill there, though I wish you all success with your mission in Bree, and if it turns larger than you thought, a bird will reach me. Do not worry for me in Angmar, after a few thousand years you learn a few… tricks." Moriel grinned at him and winked. "Perhaps you should take Beren the Bold with you," she gestured at Camlost. "Maybe he would be able to find a taproom there somewhere where the girls need no more than a pretty face to make them happy."
</font>

Edited by: Moriel

Rainelle Hérandil
18/Jul/2011, 07:21 PM
Archery Range</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

</font>Emeralda smiled and nodded in reply to him. "Yes, in a cottage out in the Chetwood, a couple hour's walk from Archet." She said. "I love it there, but I had always wanted to</font> follow in my father's footsteps and</font> become a ranger." She said happily. "So I was very happy when I met Khallador, and he invited me to come to Osdolen and join the rangers." She added. She felt disappointment for him when his shots didn't go so well. Then it was her turn again, and she took a deep, calming breath before raising her bow. She quickly fired off her three arrows, and was pleased to see that she had done so well. The first hit a bit too far from the center than she would have liked, but the next two were great. One thudded into the bullseye right next to Dinenol's arrow, the one that had hit in the center earlier, and the tips looked like they were trying to push each other out of the way. Her third arrow actually did this, knocking both of their arrows off the target so that it could take the center place. She blinked, a bit surprised, and looked over at him with a light laugh. "Sorry, I think the arrows might be more competitive than their shooters are!" She said with a friendly grin.
</font>
(Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total: 2
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total: 1
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0</font></font> Total: 1
</font>Cumulative score: 19 Arrows shot: 9/24</font>)</font>

Niek Elbadin
18/Jul/2011, 11:36 PM
Niek Elbadin
The Four Winds
</span>
<b style="">Niek[/b] opened his mouth to reply, but his dinner companions were swiftly distracted by the feminine half-elf. In a whirl of back and forths, </span><b style="">Niek[/b] lost the thread of conversation as Khallador, Beren, and Moriel, bandied about from one topic to another, including ratherappallingoffers from Beren to the lady. Niek leaned away from Berensurreptitiously, in case the woman decided to take offense. He'd hate to die because Moriel was a little overenthusiastic aboutdefendingher honor.</span>

Instead of fighting his way back into the conversation when Moriel passed over Beren's bawdiness, Niek simply muttered snottily, "Mordor's a perfectly fine neighbor," and sighed. He talked to himself, "Oh, and it's been months since I've had a decent conversation, but please, don't mind me. I'd hate to interrupt."

Callandil waded skillfully through the hubbub of waved arms and raunchy banter and laid the masses of food on the table, much to Niek's dismay. Heavens above, what creature could devour all this food, he thought in awe, casting his eyes about to his fellows. When</span>neither</span>Khallador nor Beren showed any notice, Niek shrugged off their absentmindedness. They offered, he decided, and he had little qualms accepting.</span>

He did, however, eat quickly. They had only promised him a sausage, after all, but he figured he could steal a bit more as long as he did it quietly.</span>

<b style="">Niek[/b] was well into his third sausage, all as long as his hand and as wide as three fingers, when he froze, staring across the room at the sleek red hair (</span><b style="">Lieska[/b]) that entered the room. Struck by the sudden urge he'd been caught red handed, </span><b style="">Niek[/b] hastily took one last bite before wiping off his belt knife and tucking it back at his waist. As </span><b style="">Lieska[/b] crossed through the crowd, </span><b style="">Niek[/b] shrunk in his seat, hoping to hide himself behind </span><b style="">Beren's[/b] large bulk.</span>

It wasn't to be, however, and, by the time his nose was even with the table, </span><b style="">Lieska Elbadin[/b] was upon them. She smiled demurely at the table, nodding genially at Moriel, Khallador, and Beren. She brushed her long vibrant braid over her shoulder and pressed her hands down her thighs, smoothing the wrinkles in her soft blue skirt, every inch a proper young woman.</span>

"Good evening," </span><b style="">Lieska [/b]greeted, eyes barely skimming over </span><b style="">Niek's[/b] miserable form. "It is apleasantnight, I hope?"

Elrond edit @ everyone : Niek and I spoke on IM and I allowed her to make mention that Callandil has served food. Merl will make the food in her next post to tien into what Niek has written ; she just got back in from vacation but I'm sure we'll see her soon, everyone.

</font></span></font>








Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Tolkus
20/Jul/2011, 05:03 AM
Thalion listend with interest at what was said and replyed, "His name..." he paused and thought a momnet, "That you're going to have ask yer self." he finsihed with a chuckle. The good Captain listen to her other questions and noticed she seemed a bit nervious. He leaned back aginst the bar and answered, "It's a good job and one need doing in these times. Could always use an extra pair of eyes." he gave her a slight look and continued. "Only off duty long enough to grab a bit to eat, then back to the Wall." Thalion listened as the new comer told him about herself and where she was from. He shook his head and said, "Long way from home you are. But all help we can get we welcome it." He noded to her and also looked back to see if Callandil had fallen into his stew pot again.

Hallas C. Pehwarin
20/Jul/2011, 07:14 PM
Thorondil, son of Thoróndur</font>
Ranger of the North

Osdolen

The veteran ranger of 74 years old sat upon his rough 7 year old grey dappling called Roccondúr,(Marshall)</font>. As he guided the strong willed animal through the aged arched stone portcullis of the hidden refuge for his people's armed forces. It had been a long and tiring journey, but Thorondil</font> along with the aid of his folk and elves managed to disperse for the meantime a large contingent of brigands. Who had chosen foolhardily to disrupt the elves who were making their final journey across the length of Eriador to the Grey Heavens then they board ships to sail across the sea on the 'straight road' to Valinor. A sincere expression of sadness crossed the aged northern dúnedain weathered face which was illuminated by several lit torches</font></font> resting inside several stone nooks.
</font></font>
Thorondil's dark brown hair streaked with grey at the sides billowed gently the late evening breeze. His two thick dark brown eyebrows were knotted together, while his two keen emerald
colored eyes brightly shown for a moment in the dim light provided though beside his right one rested a long scar from one
of the many skirmishes that he had with orcs and wargs, resting in
between them
is a long aquiline nose, a pair of tanned weather cheekbones on either
side showed that he has traveled a great deal in countless years as a
Ranger. Either side of his face were two large ears covered by his
shaggy
long dark brown hair. Below the nose rests a pair of pale pink lips
forming his mouth, after that comes his rounded chin upon which rests a
scar running diagonal for about five inches another trophy from fight
against evil hill men in cold regions of Witch-King's former realm of
Angmar. </font></font>Thorondil let out a tiny groan of discomfort as he dismounted from Rocco. Twinges of pain shot up the tall 6 foot and 5 inch semi toned body of the aged ranger.

He wore the typical trappings of his people being; a </font>long-sleeved tan cotton shirt, a pair of ash grey </font></font>suede leather</font></font> pants whose ends were tucked into his footwear. The 74-
year old d</font></font>ú</span></font>nedain protected his lower legs and feet with a pair of tall knee high tan leather riding boots. Over these articles rested a</font> </font>slightly heavier short sleeved ash grey suede leather tunic, </font>whose sleeves from the shoulder the
elbow each had a mesh of chain-mail
attached securely by leather points. The interior of the mail was lined with soft black
silk </font>to prevent chafing against the
garments resting underneath or any exposed skin.</font> Over this inner but well worn inner tunic was</font> a sleeveless hard leather </font></font></font>ash-grey</font></font> tunic
that offered moderate protection while not hindering mobility.
Protecting his lower body from waist to thigh was a matching </font></font></font>ash-grey</font></font> suede
leather traveling skirt, whose interior had a sheet of identical
chain-mail attached like the above mentioned inner tunic was secured by leather
points and interior lined with soft </font></font></font>black silk.

</font>Thorondil protected
his forearms with a set of two-piece leather vambraces; an inner
patterned guard and an outer plate of boiled black</span></span></span></span></span></font> </font> leather tooled with</span></span></span></span></span></font> </font>a
set of seabird's wings and matching burgundy tabs to protect his
callused hands from injuries or carelessness. Over the waist of the
exterior hard leather tunic was his plain black leather belt. Attached
to it were his two brown leather pouches containing some healing herbs,
bandages, a tiny amount of coin, and some pipe weed that he'd bought
when he had stopped in the village of Bree. </font>On
the left hand side of the belt rested a long wooden scabbard covered in
tan leather that crisscrossed down its entire length. It was fitted
with a bronze locket and matching chape that was exactly the shape of
his steel conical pommel of his d hand-and-half sword the resided
inside. </font>Thorondil had
attached to his scabbard a tiny wooden scabbard covered in black
leather that held a small utility knife that was used for most sundry
chores.

Inside the scabbard rested his family's prized ranger hand-and-half sword.The steel conical shaped pommel and the crossguard with its stylized </span></span></span></span></span></font>pattern of two
seabird's wings outstretched in full flight and was inlaid with a bronze
filigree etched on both sides gleamed dimly in the light of the torches as he lead Rocco into one of the empty stalls securing the gate behind him. The veteran ranger then removed his travel bags from his steed's rear body, followed by his faded black leather saddle which Thorondil drapped both items over the stall's wide wooden gate. After this was accomplished the tired </font>d</font></font>ú</span></font>nedain filled two troughs one with enough oats for Rocco to enjoy as an evening meal and the other was filled with cold water obtained from a small well located in the courtyard. Rocco snorted and stomped his hooves gladly at the sight of food and water immediately diving into both. </font>Thorondil approached Rocco slowly patted him and stroked his mane. The aged ranger felt</font> his customary dark grey cloak snap gently in the evening breeze. This one though was
made of cotton instead wool and was worn by him and his kin during the warmer seasons of
spring and summer. At the nape of his slightly thick neck Thorondil
felt the presence of a familiar silver circular broach. It was his
people's way of identifying each other as Rangers. In the center rested a
stylized design that was in the direct likeness of 6 pointed and rayed
silver star. Absently the 74-year old touched remembering that it was
time once again to renew his oath to his Chieftain Aragorn or his well known alias 'Strider'. So with this thought ringing around in his mind </span></span></span></span></span></font>Thorondil headed for the Four Winds walking across the courtyard and entered one of the main stone corridors that threaded its way throughout the hidden stronghold.

The Four Winds

</span></span></span></span></span></font>Thorondil extended his left arm and hand fingers gripped firmly the aged iron doorknob. With gently but firm pull the 74-year old northern </font>d</font></font>ú</span></font>nedain opened the faded wooden door stepping inside. His medium ears registered that it pulled shut behind him. </font>Thorondil turned his shaggy dark brown and grey flecked head slowly from side to side. His emerald eyes burned brightly for a single moment before inhaling a deep breath filling his lungs with air. The air smelled of burning embers of fire going strong in the stone hearth on the far side of the room. The room was littered with several tables and high backed chairs. To his left </font>Thorondil noted a bar manned by another of his kin but he could not recall the proprietors' name. It had been nearly twenty years since he last set foot inside Odsolen.

So the aged and seasoned ranger allowed a smiled to grace his weathered features of his still somewhat fair face. He finally spoke his deep basso voice thick but cordial, "Evening fellow rangers I'm </font>Thorondil, son of Thoróndur." "Does anyone know where our Chieftain might be for I intend to renew my oath as Ranger of the North."</font> </font>Thorondil then walked on heavy legs taking one the empty seats near the bar. He dropped his tall 6 foot and 5 inch frame into the chair closing his emerald eyes for a moment while at the same time letting out an exhausted sigh escape his pale pink lips. He felt totally drained of strength but still had enough to open his eyes gazing around the room waiting patiently to see who among his kin would welcome him home......
</font>

Tarawen
20/Jul/2011, 08:49 PM
The Four Winds

Tarawen smirked a bit when Thalion told her she'd have to venture to find out the mysterious Ranger's name himself. "That's certainly something I'm capable of," she replied. "Nothing too dangerous or tricky about asking a man's name, eh?" She grinned. Tara followed Thalion's gaze over toward where the tavernkeep might be, and a sudden thirst parched her. "Would be good to have a drink," she muttered, looking around as Thalion did too. "Ah, well, a drink can wait. What's more important is that I take the Oath. Thanks for the inside information, sir. Enjoy your meal--perhaps we'll talk again once I've spoken to this stranger you point me to." She nodded at him in thanks and turned her gaze toward the unknown Oath administrator.</font>
</font>When she slid off her barstool, the heels of Tara's boots gave a slight "clop" as they hit the floor. They were still hopelessly muddy and travel-stained. Straightening herself, she walked purposefully toward a table positioned against a wall of the tavern. Her braid had come loose, but she didn't notice; rather, she swiped the straying strands out of her eyes with one hand absentmindedly while still keeping a firm gaze on the stranger, whose face was largely hidden in hood and shadow. She gave a quick glance at the door when a newcomer (Thorondil) entered the tavern, but returned her eyes swiftly toward the stranger Thalion had indicated. He was sitting with another man, ensconced at their table and by all appearances ignoring the rest of the room. Tara decided to change that.</font>
</font>Coming up on the table she planted her feet shoulder-width apart, arms at her hips. She looked the men in their faces, one by one, nodding in greeting, and then fixed her eyes on the shadowed stranger (Rillewen). "I hear you are the person to talk to about the Oath of the Rangers," she began. She was nervous, this being the whole reason she had come this far north, and for this moment to be real seemed quite surreal to her. She determined to maintain strong eye contact and a firm stance. "What must I do to take the Oath? And might I ask your true name? My friend the Captain of the Wall Guard was rather . . . elusive on that matter, and I would know the name of those that have the power to create such a strong bond among Rangers." She looked at him intently but quizzically and hoped he was the right person to see about this, that she hadn't been misled by Thalion . . .</font>











Edited by: Platypus

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
22/Jul/2011, 03:16 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Dinenol</span> watched Emeralda make three more shots, glad that she had not upped the ante, and to his competitive regret, all three of her arrows did very well, two of them were even bulls-eyes, and her final shot knocking one of hers and one of his right out of the target. </span></font>"Very nice," he complimented her. Then he took his stance. Before he fired, though, he responded to her comments. "</font>Do you have family then? Back in Archet?"

Then he fired three more arrows. To his disgruntlement while one arrow was near the bulls-eye, the other two were hideously outside it. More disqualifying shots! What was with him today? He hadn't shot that poorly in forever!
</font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Cumulative score: 29 (10/24 arrows
shot)</font>)

Rian Eliowen
22/Jul/2011, 06:29 PM
Dairen - Four Winds Tap Room

Dairen was rather surprised when the woman in the dark and rather muddy dress (Tarawen)came up to their table, her boots which weremuch travel stained, hitting the floor hard as she walked. He noticed that she had a bit of straw in herhair which had come unbraided. He wondered who she might be as she stood in front of them, hands on her hips and said to his hooded quietly spoken companion (Rillewen)"What must I do to take the oath.." and asked for the mans name. Itappeared fromthis sudden challenge that perhaps he was sitting with someone of note in the ranger heirarchy - especially as the room had become strangely quiet and all eyes had been drawn to them. Dairen listened interestedly to his companion's reply to see what he would say. . .
</span>



Edited by: Rian Eliowen

Gwaeros
22/Jul/2011, 07:26 PM
<B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Malach and Eilinel:<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />[/B]
<B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Rangers of the North and cousins to Remlas Saelion[/B]
<B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">[/B]
<B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">The North Downs, approaching Osdolen[/B]

The way was rough, even for those on foot, and the two walked in single file as they made their way through the downs to the cavern that signalled the entrance to the hidden sanctuary of Osdolen. Rangers they were, clad in dark brown leathers and long cloaks, and they moved accordingly, swift as shadows, and silently, booted feet making no noise except for the occasional clatter of foot on loose stone. The leader was a tall man, pushing on 6ft 3” and broad of shoulder, and a grey cloak hid all but the sword belted at his side. His black hair was cut off at jaw length, framing his weathered face, and was the same colour as his scruffy beard, which seemed to be in need of trimming.

Following behind him, the second appeared at first to be a man, if small of stature, but on closer inspection, the hood of the grey-green cloak hid the features of a woman. She had dark grey eyes, one of the only features shared with the brother who walked before her, and long brown hair, wisps of which hung out from under her hood. Besides the large pack she carried, she had a full quiver of grey-fletched arrows, and a large bow lay across her shoulder.

For a good quarter mark they walked unspeaking, the man taking a weaving course intended to lose any pursuit, the woman following with growing exasperation until, having made sure they had indeed lost any who may have intended to follow them, the man gave his sister a nod and they branched off of their path, striking a more direct route towards Osdolen. They moved faster now, in tune with the land, and the woman stuck up a one way conversation with her brother, commenting on all from talk of family to that of the weather, seemingly unconcerned at getting no reply.

“I do hope we reach the <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Four Winds[/B] before it starts to rain, I’ve been wet enough this past week to last a lifetime.”

A grunt of acknowledgement.

“Still, I look forwards to seeing the place again. It really has been too long.”

A snort of what could have been laughter, but no, there was no smile in his eyes. Another acknowledgment then.

The woman just smiled, looking up into the solemn face of her brother. There was a good six inches in height between them, but she did not look out of place at his side, and she carried her bow with the look of one who knew how to use it to advantage. She had a sword also, not one of particular lineage or even great deeds, but it served her purpose well enough when she chose to use it. The man’s sword was finer, sheathed in an old but finely tooled leather scabbard passed down from generation to generation, and he rested his hand on the hilt of the sword as they rounded the last bend to the entrance of the cave. But there were no enemies here, so they continued on, into the darkness.
<DIV><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">[/B]
<DIV><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">[/B]
<DIV><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Entering Osdolen[/B]

The stairs were familiar, long and dark as they rose up through the narrow cleft into Osdolen main, and here the woman took the lead, her strides lengthening in anticipation of seeing the sanctuary again. The man followed more slowly, his long legs taking the steps two at a time. In the narrow stairwell his size was intimidating, and he carried himself with an aura of power enough to dismay lesser enemies. Indeed, in the <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Breelands[/B], the locals nicknamed him Bear, and he lived up to the name; gruff and silent with large hands and a fierce grip, he had several times been called upon to break up fights in the streets or taverns and would tear the fighters apart with seeming ease. It was enough to make most of the inhabitants fear him, which didn’t help his natural reticence.

Or not so natural, for the woman could remember a time when he had been a cheerful and talkative boy, five years her elder and brimming with words and laughter. His first patrol had changed that, and he had come home with a scar that left him blinded in his left eye, bitter and suddenly world-wise. He never spoke of it, but she saw him sit sometime, rubbing his eye, and she knew he resented the loss of vision that had impaired his skill with a bow and left him with reduced depth perception. Over the years he had adapted, finding new ways and honing his skill, but she knew it rankled still.

They emerged blinking from the stairs back into the light, though the sky was overcast and the sun hiding. The large hidden ledge greeted them with a feeling of home. Here were their fellow rangers, in a place where they could drink together, spar together, and inevitably share news and plan for the defence of their lands. It was mostly empty now, but people were dotted here and there. Seeing this, they made for the tavern of the <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Four Wind[/B], hoping to find <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aragorn[/B] or at least <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Halbarad[/B] in attendance.


The Four Winds
<DIV>

It seemed that as they entered there had been a lull in the conversation, and they clearly heard the door swing shut behind them. It was nearly enough to make the man reach for his sword, but he stayed his hand and as the pair stood at the entrance to the tavern they percieved that the cause of the quiet was not them. Indeed, it seemed to be coming from a table nearby where sat two men (Strider, Dairen). Moving further into the tavern, the woman regarded the former with recognition, and a smile flashed across her face. So the Chieftain was in residence, it seemed. Good.
<DIV>
<DIV>With a glance at her brother, the woman moved swiftly through the tables to takeone of those next to Strider. Claiming a chair and easing herself gracefully into it, she raised an eyebrow in his direction, rather amused that he should be sitting in his own tavern and counsel room yet hooded and in disguise. Still, percieving the peculiar humour in the situation, she did not speak, merely inclined her head a little. More slowly, her brother followed her to the table, moving easily despite his size. With a nod to those around him, he kicked out another chair and sat heavily, before also turning to Strider to hear his response to whatever challenge had been raised...

OOC: (just to note, next post I’ll split into the two different characters in different colours, this is just an introduction)

Rainelle Hérandil
23/Jul/2011, 06:40 AM
Four Winds

A lot of things happened in a short amount of time. One moment he was watching in amusement as the rowdy group of rangers joked with the half elf, and she teased them back. Then a man(</font>Thorondil)</font> entered and asked loudly for the cheiftan, followed by another man and woman(<b style="">Malach </font></font></span>[/b]and </font></font></span><b style="">Eilinel</font></font></span>[/b]</font>) who seemed to be seeking the same person for the same reasons, then a young woman(Tarawen) who had been talking with a seasoned ranger by the bar came over to his table. "I hear you are the person to talk to about the Oath of the Rangers,"</font> She said, and he could tell she was nervous. "What must I do to take the Oath?"</font> He smiled slightly. 'That was fast.' He thought. His gray gaze swept the room swiftly, searching for whomever might have told her this, and came to rest on Thalion. Of course he must have told her, the young woman had been talking with him directly before coming over to him. "You heard correctly." He admitted with a small nod, and a glance at Dairen as well. He pushed his hood back. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftan of the Dunedain." He admitted with a smile. His joke seemed to be over, and only a handful of the rangers had guessed his identity; Thalion and the half elf whose name he had heard to be Moriel.
(If i missed anyone let me know and i'll edit the name in, lol</font>)</font>

Archery Range

Emeralda smiled when Dinenol complimented her shots. She watched him take his shots, and noticed the wind had picked up a bit again. She nodded when he asked about her family. "My mother, an herbal healer, lives there still."</font> She said quietly. It was her turn now, so she chose an arrow. She shot quickly, followed by her next two arrows. Well that certainly didn't go as planned. Her arrows started out somewhat closer to the bullseye, then with each shot went wider. Of course, they were still pretty excellent shots, but for her, they were rather awful. She sighed slightly and stepped back, shrugging. "Hopefully you'll do better than that.."</font> She said with a light laugh.

(Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
</font></font>Cumulative score: 28 Arrows shot: 12/24</font></font>)











</font>


Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Tarawen
26/Jul/2011, 02:39 AM
The Four Winds

"Well then, Aragorn son of Arathorn," Tara said after the shadow-enshrouded Ranger had introduced himself. She felt much more confident knowing that Thalion had been right and finding herself suddenly in the company of the chieftain of the Dunedain. She went on, "I am Tarawen of Gondor. I journeyed to Osdolen to join up with the Rangers of the North. Not only this, but I hope to see my services put to use against any forces that threaten the lands of Arnor of old."</font>
</font>She took a step back, thinking to give the gentlemen at the table some space. Now that she thought about it, her approach and introduction had been rather abrupt. Would have put her out of a good mood if their places had been reversed. "Must be nice to go incognito for a while," she said. "Take some time to relax outside of the spotlight. Sorry if I cut that short." Her apology was as abrupt as her interruption, though not less genuine for it. She looked over at the weathered man sitting in the shadows with Aragorn (Dairen) and asked, "Did you know who you were sitting with? If you did, you did a nice job keeping that information quiet." </font>
</font>Now her hands came off her hips, her left thumb hooking over her belt and resting there while the other hand caressed the worn leather scabbard that hung at her right side. She watched as Aragorn scanned the room for his betrayer. His eyes rested momentarily on Thalion, and Tara felt the need to clarify. "I asked who to talk to about the oath up at the bar," she said, directing her gaze at Aragorn. "He told me you were the man to talk to, but not your name. Seems to know what he's talking about, that captain of the wall guard, eh? So, as chieftain of the Dunedain, how do you go about administering the oath? I'll be very grateful if you can tell me more about that." She gestured at an empty chair at a table beside Aragorn and the other man's table. "Mind if I pull up a chair?"</font>









Edited by: Platypus

Rian Eliowen
26/Jul/2011, 06:08 AM
Dairen did not realize that his jaw had dropped until the fiesty lady asked him if he alreadyknew the identity of his companion and he realised that his mouth was open!. He quicklyshut his mouthbut could barely restrain a guffaw of laughter (which might well have been deemed inappropriate in the situation so he turned it into a cough) but he was indeed very surprised - not only by finding out that he had been conversing with the chief of the dunedain, but because Tarawen was just so funny - beautiful and funny he realized. . She couldn't seem to help herself, and he struggled to wipe the smile off his face as she boldly pulled up a chair. "Was this how the usually formal andstraight lacedwomen of Gondor behaved once they went abroad,?" he wondered to himself.
He looked at the face of Aragorn, now that he had removed his hood. There was somethingfine and noble there despite the unshaven andrough exterior,a qualitythat would gain the loyalty of those who followed him.
"It seems as if there may be a number of surprised persons present" hesuggested quietly looking around the silentroom. "I have heard more than one of those presentsay they wish to take the oath of the rangers, since I entered"

Hallas C. Pehwarin
26/Jul/2011, 04:43 PM
The Four Winds

Thorondil then rose from his seat upon hearing the familiar voice of his respected and admired Chieftain Aragorn II, son of Arathorn. </font> "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dunedain."</font> The 74 year old </font>northern </font>d</font></font>ú</span></font>nedain' emerald eyes again beheld his chieftain who threw by the hood of his dark grey cloak to reveal his keen grey eyes, fair face with weathered complexion from long years journeying across Middle Earth in service to free peoples of the West. His exploits were known to his people the surviving remnant of </font>d</font></font>ú</span></font>nedain of Arnor and a few of the wise of the White Council.

So the weather worn senior ranger then walked with a proud gait to stand before his Chieftain. For a moment </font>Thorondil allowed the younger members of his fellow rangers ask their questions. He smiled for he knew personally of the hardships that each would face. So the seasoned ranger took a deep breath filling his lungs with air of the Four Winds.</font> It smelled of woodsmoke from the burning logs of the still going fire in the stone hearth across the room mingled with scents of packed man and woman who had chosen to protect their people and to serve the long line of Chieftains; who were direct descendants of Isildur, the elder son and heir of Elendil the Tall. The steadfast Thorondil continued to gaze upon his chieftain as he observed his followers and fellow rangers.

Finally the 74-year old ranger spoke his deep basso voice a quiet rumble, "My Chieftain it is good to see you again." " It has been nearly a full decade since we last spoke and saw each other." "It seems our people have accomplished great deeds recently of which I was part of in aiding our ancient allies the surviving Noldor and Sindarin Elves." "We have managed to protect Mithlond(Grey Heavens) from an incursion of several brigand bands which are now finally scattered and defeated for the present and possibly future." "So I returned to Osdolen to renew my oath."

Taking another deep breath </font>Thorondil then fixed his emerald eyes upon his Chieftain. He then spoke his deep basso</font> voice clear and filled pride as he recited the following words. Which to him serve as the Oath of the Rangers of the North. " I, Thorondil, son of Thoróndur</font> of the ancient family and its valiant HouseHérandil (Lord's Friend)." "Do now pledge my life to my fellow kin Rangers of North, to defend all of the
free peoples of Middle Earth from the evil that now raises once again in
the east and to serve the rightful and lawful claimant to throne and silver crown of Gondor and the
silver scepter of Arnor Aragorn II, son Arathorn II Chieftain of the Dúnedain." The seasoned ranger then patiently awaited the response of his Chieftain to his recent words and actions of the past few months......

Gwaeros
26/Jul/2011, 05:20 PM
The Four Winds<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Eilinel - Ranger of the North

Waiting for Aragorn's response, the Eilinel swung her bow off of her shoulder and rested it between her feet, leaning it on her left knee. Her trousers were dark brown and mud-stained around the bottoms, and the knees were wearing through from long use, but they were warm and comfortable; she had had them for years, to wear on patrol and at home. Her boots were of a similar make, and also dark brown. In fact, most of her clothing appeared to be brown, except for the cloak of green wool with patches of grey caught up expertly in the pattern, and on closer inspection flecks of brown could be seen in it as well, making it ideal for hiding the wearer.

Eilinellooked back to the Chieftain after a moment, unsurprisedas he pushed back his hood and proclaimed his name openly, ending the little game or joke or whatever it was he had been playing. Malach wouldn't be impressed with that little stunt, she thought wryly, but it amused her and she gave a small laugh. Very few people seemed to have guessed the identity of the cloaked figure, and she wondered how that had been; certainly upon entering she had recognised him almost straight away. But then again maybe that was because her attention had been drawn there immediately by the hush that had fallen. Either way, it didn't really matter, and she filed thethought away to puzzle over at a later time.
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>Turning back to important matters,she listened as a woman (Tarawen), seemingly from Gondor, spoke to Aragorn about taking the oath of the rangers. Now that the Chieftain had declared himself, things were moving quickly, and another man, Thorondil, once again made the oath. Seeing the amount of people gathering around the table, Eilinel decided to let things calm down before making her wayover.Instead, she sat, listening and watching, until the time cameto greet Aragorn.
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV>Malach - Ranger of the North
<DIV>
<DIV>Reaching his chair, Malach sat down lightly despite his size, folding himself down gracefully. Once settled, he cast a suspicious look around him before relaxing and pushing back his hood. Immediately the features of his face were thrown into relief by the light, and the faded scar around his left eye could be seen snaking fromthe middle of his eyebrow down to the top of his cheek. It wasa scar that he hated, nay, detested, for he was ashamed of it, although he covered it with gruff words and a grim expression. Very rarely now did he smile, yet despite all he was still a kind man, for all that he did not show it well.
<DIV>
<DIV>Upon entering, he too had noted Aragorn, and his expression had not changed as the man revealed himself, although personally he thought pointless to hide within ones own stronghold. Not that this lessened his respect for the man, for Malach knew him to be an excellent warrior, leader and tactician, deadly with both sword and bow. he had not met the man for many years, but like many of the rangers he kept up to date with the goings on in all the lands, not just those he fought in.
<DIV>
<DIV>Glancing at his sister, Malach noted that she was staying out of the conversation but listening, and he settled down to wait for her to join the talking. Hopefully the Chieftain would see her sitting there patiently and speak to her in turn; for all his patience of the battlefield, the tall ranger had long ago lost his love of talking.

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
30/Jul/2011, 10:46 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

Emeralda</span> did about a he had done, but he perked up at the mention of her mother. </span></font>"How strange..." he mused. "My own mother is a healer too. Well, not my mother, really... my foster mother I suppose." He fell silent in thought and when his turn came he stepped forward and fired three more shots. It seemed they both didn't want to take the rounds any higher, which was fine with him. His first shot was absolutely miserable, and his third shot was only a little better. His second shot, on the other hand struck the exact center. He made no fanfare about it, though. They had both shot very well and very poor and very in-between. "Your turn," he said.</font>
</font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Cumulative score: 37 (13/24 arrows
shot)</font>)

Tolkus
01/Aug/2011, 08:02 PM
The Four Winds Thalion called to Callandil and siad, "Have someone bring my food to the wall, Thank you." Thalion had a duty to get back to and he was egar to go to it. Court YardAtfer the leaving the tap room Thalion made his way across the court yard making sure to give proper greetings to the kennle keeper and then to the Archery Range keeper hoping he didn't disturb thier match going on. Then to the wall he went.The WallThalion sniffed the summer air of the late morning enjoying the sents of greenery that grew in places on the Wall. This was his charge and he enjoyed it. Here he spied all who entered the city and kept watch in the ares beyond. Thalion began to make his rounds again on the Walls top walk ways. Stoping now and again to servay the land about. His eyes were keen and the slightest movement beyond the Wallwould most times not escape his gaze. He was over the arch entrance to the city at the momnet and he staired sown the road to see if any one or thing was upon it.

Rainelle Hérandil
01/Aug/2011, 08:20 PM
Archery Range</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

Emeralda glanced over at him curiously when he mentioned that his mother, or foster mother, was a healer. "That's interesting. It seems we have more in common than I would have thought."</font> She commented lightly, and smiled at him. She watched as he shot, and then it was her turn. "And my father was a ranger, though you may have heard about that."</font> She added, smiling slightly at the memory of her father. She selected an arrow and stepped up to the shooting line, then aimed and released swiftly. She followed with another, and another, and then a fourth, but the third arrow went a little wide, and the fourth was even farther off. She sighed softly in frustration and stepped back, giving a small shrug as she brushed a few loose wisps of her hair out of her face, tucking them back behind her ear.

</font>(Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1

Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
</font></font>Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
</font>Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
</font>Cumulative score: 37 Arrows shot: 16/24</font>)

Four Winds

Aragorn </font>smiled at the young lady and gave a small nod of his head. "It's quite alright." He assured her. She asked if she could pull up a chair, and he motioned with a hand to go ahead. He was about to reply to her question of how to go about taking the oath, when </font></font>Thorondil spoke up and gave his. Aragorn listened as the man also gave news. He nodded solemnly </font>as </font>Thorondil </font>renewed his oath. "Thank you for your commitment and service, </font>Thorondil, </font>son of </font>Thoróndur</font>." He said sincerely, then turned his attention back to Tarawen and Dairen, though speaking to any other who had come to take the oath. "The life of a ranger is a hard one, full of peril and often thankless." He said seriously.</font> "It has its rewards, however, in keeping the lands in peace, and the people who live here safe." He added, smiling as he thought of how rewarding it was to protect the lands that he cared so much for, and the people who dwelt there. "If you truly wish to take the oath, then repeat the words that </font>Thorondil </font>used, and I will hear you and accept your oath, just as I did when </font></font>Thorondil renewed his a moment ago." He told them, and glanced around the room to include any one else who would also like to join the rangers. </font>

</font>(</font></font>i noticed a couple people mention his gray cloak and him being unshaven, so i </font>just wanted to mention that, because of his disguise and all, he was clean shaven and wearing a dark teal colored cloak. smileys/smiley4.gif
and, sorry if it's lame, i didn't know what to say!</font>)</font>
</font></font>

Rian Eliowen
02/Aug/2011, 07:39 AM
</font>NPC Dairen - The Four Winds
</font></font>

</font>Dairen watched the veteran ranger with the unusual emerald eyes and deep voice approach Aragorn and after
reporting his news, renew his oath. Aragorn thanked him courteouslyand had then invited Tarawen and himself, among others, to take the oath.</font></font>

</font>Dairen, sensing the solemnity of the moment determined to
speak straight away, feeling almost as if having waited so long to
take up a place with this group he could not bear to wait any longer. Having
just heard the spoken oath of Thorondil he tried to remember and repeat the formal words,
all in the right order – something about a silver sceptre and a throne - but his
mind, more used to the simple speech of the plain soldier felt the flowery phrases
slipping away. </span>The words that came to
his lips may have been plainer but nevertheless they summed up his heartfelt commitment
to the cause. <?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /></font></font>

</font>“I, Dairen Eliowen, grandson of Girhaeld, do pledge my life
to the Rangers of the North, my fellow kin, to defend the free peoples of
Middle Earth from the evil of the Shadow in the East and to serve and obey the rightful
chieftan of the Dunadain, Aragorn son of Arathorn.”</font>

</font>He felt his face redden in self consciousness as he placed his hand over his heart
and spoke his oath, so was glad that at least his unshaven appearance might hid
his discomfortat being the center of attention however briefly. He hoped that he had not forgottenanything important.</font>

</font>He remained silent and watchful, waiting forany otherto</span>follow with their own oath.</font>

</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
02/Aug/2011, 05:19 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>had </font>not heard that Emeralda's father was a ranger, though it made sense. "I never knew my parents," he told her as she fired not 3 but 4 arrows. He grimaced inwardly, hoping he did well with the increase in difficulty. "I was raised by a healer in a Dunedain village.</font> She was a good mother to me but... well, I guess when I was growing up what I wanted more than anything was a father." He was surprised at himself and at that admission. He had never told anyone that before. Not even his adoptive mother, though he knew she would have understood. He solemnly took his place and fired four arrows without even thinking about his aiming. To his surprise he actually did fairly well! Two of his arrows were poor but two were almost bulls-eyes! With a small smile he stepped back to let her take a turn. He was still doing quite worse than she was, though. He had fired only one arrow more than she so far, but was 10 points behind! Oh well, he figured. It was just a friendly competition.
</font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Cumulative score: 47 (17/24 arrows
shot)</font>)

Asha'bellanar
05/Aug/2011, 04:02 AM
Elegost (NPC)
The Four Winds</font>

Die for something, or live for nothing. Very little is known about the origins of the wandering ranger, save for his strong heart and steadfast determination. Qualities worthy of any Dúnedain descendant, none could argue, save for the parents of Elegost. </font>Though he has yet to disclose the events of his life, those who have crossed paths with the loner, have pieced a rough history... Elenvaul and Mirassë, former rangers themselves, had never revealed their ancestry to their son.

In desire perhaps, to protect him and deviate him from such difficult life. It would be years, before he realized, he was not like other mortals and finally take up a bow and tread into the wild. The version believed the most true, since it has changed from ranger to ranger.</font> Of course, Elegost desired nothing more than to remain a mystery. A ghost. Believing the day he fell at last, he would fulfill the promise he had made to himself. To fight to maintain those in Eriador safe, without thought of recognition or reward.

His potential was indisputable, his skills with a bow, acknowledged. Yet he remained isolated, until at last the pressing of others drove him to Osdolen and there, take the Oath of the Rangers.The son of Elenvaul treaded the stone stairwell, raising through a narrow cleft. He marveled at the sight of so many, never had he seen such a place or so many of his kind together. Despite his hesitation in earlier years, the ranger of sixty four years, found that he rather liked the idea of unison.

The time had come for alliance, without mystery or isolation. As he entered the tavern, many faces turned to Elegost, some smiled, with familiarity of him, others inspected the newcomer briefly and turned again to their food and drink. Eyes had turned to Elegost, but his own only turned to the one he had only dreamt of meeting, the son of Arathorn, the Chieftan himself. Clad in cloak of dark teal, and strangely clean shaven for the way he had been described to Elegost by other rangers. "I will join" he said, waiting for his turn to pledge.
</font>
http://i329.photobucket.com/albums/l395/shybutnotforpics/Lord%20of%20the%20Rings%20RP%203/Elegost.jpg






Edited by: Sur Vanar Utírieste

Tarawen
05/Aug/2011, 06:22 AM
The Four Winds

Tara reached for a scrubbed wooden chair sitting empty at another table and drew it up to Aragorn and Dairen's table. She sat down lightly, crossing her booted legs and hoping to hear more about the oath and what service, if any, she might be able to provide. Her gaze gravitated toward another Ranger, a man who introduced himself as Thorondil andwho had come to renew his oath. Tara watched him and listened eagerly as he delivered his oath, leaning forward a bit in her seat to hear and understand the words he spoke--words which she felt resonate with her in a very profound and inexpressible way. It was as if he had captured the grand history behind the Rangers and a natural desire among the people of The Faithful to serve a high and noble purpose and to root out the forces of evil. It was a deep longing sensation she had felt for many years before she could act on it, and hearing these nobly stated words caused chills to run up and down her spine, despite the warmth of the tavern. She shivered.</font>
</font>When Aragorn spoke of the life of a Ranger, Tara nodded. "I understand well the risks, and am glad to hear that there is some greater good to be done," she said when he had finished. "This is the life I have longed for, a life of action, one that produces some good in this troubled world we live in." She listened attentively again as Dairen gave his oath--a bit different in wording than Thorondil's solemn speech, but with the same meaning and dedication encompassed in each syllable. When Dairen had finished, Tara stood, her chair sliding back with the soft groan of wood rubbing wood. She felt that this kind of moment was not one for sitting casually in a tavern chair, but rather one for drawing herself up to her full--and not insignificant--height. She swept some stray strands of hair from her eyes and stood with hands behind her back.</font>
</font>"I, Tarawen, daughter of Maendir, pledge my life and my service to the Rangers of the North, my kin of old, to defend the free peoples of Middle Earth from the forces of evil, whatsoever their origins may be, and to serve and obey the rightful heir of Elendil and claimant to the throne of Gondor and the scepter of Arnor, Aragorn son of Arathorn."</font>
</font>She had heard many noble and well-spoken words that day, and she tried to combine what had most strongly resonated with her from both Thorondil's and Dairen's oaths. When she finished, she nodded solemnly to Aragorn and took her seat again, looking Dairen in the eye from across the stained wooden table and smiling a bit out of relief and anticipation, feelings she imagined he would share with her in this moment.</font>







Edited by: Platypus

Rainelle Hérandil
05/Aug/2011, 09:45 AM
Four Winds

Aragorn </font>smiled, feeling slightly proud for those who had chosen to take the oath, proud for them and proud of them. After Thorondil had spoken, the first to give his own oath was Dairen, whom Aragorn had been speaking with before. After he had spoken, Aragorn gave a small nod of acceptance of the oath and of acknowledgment and welcome. At that moment another man entered the tavern and stated his willingness and intention to join as well. After glancing at him, Aragorn turned his attention to Tarawen as she too gave her oath. Speaking to both Tarawen and Dairen, he smiled at them as he spoke. "I am proud to accept you both into the ranks of the Dunedain, Dairen</font></font> Eliowen, grandson of Girhaeld, and</font></font> Tarawen, daughter of Maendir. </font></font>He then gave a wave, motioning to the newest man</font></font>(Elegost)</font></font> that had entered, as an invitation to come closer and give his oath as well.
(again, sorry if it seems silly, but it's late and i didn't really know what to say. lol</font>)
</font></font>
</font></font>Archery Range</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

Emeralda glanced over at Dinenol as he spoke. She could easily sympathize with him there. She spoke softly in reply. "I understand how it must have felt. My father died when I was only five years old, and my mother never remarried. So I had no father, most of my life growing up. Only vague memories of him."</font> She smiled a little sadly and looked down.

Seeing that he had finished his four shots, she took an arrow from her quiver and began her next round. Her first shot hit home, then the next two kind of sandwiched it, and the fourth shot was way off. She shrugged and stepped back, with a small laugh at her poor shot. "I blame the wind."</font> She joked, grinning slightly.

(</font>Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
</span>Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4</span>
Cumulative score: 48 Arrows shot: 20/24</font>)</font>

Asha'bellanar
06/Aug/2011, 03:43 AM
Elegost (NPC)
The Four Winds</font>

Elegost was glad to see Aragorn invite him nearer to take the Oath. Having heard the ones before him, the wanderer wondered what he would say... He approached the heir of Elendil, and drew out his weapon of preference. He knelt, resting on his bow and spoke his sworn statement in great passion...
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“I, Elegost, son of Elenvaul, here do pledge my life and
allegiance to the Rangers of the North. To defend the Free Peoples of
Middle-earth from the Dark Forces that rise against them, to the end of my
days. Under the service of the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Aragorn, son of
Arathorn”</font>

Finished, the <strike>aimless traveler</strike> ranger stood to face his leader and gave a firm nod. Elegost smiled, to know now, that he would face the struggles of his time alongside others such as him, under the command of the greatest of them all. His cape was dirty from his long journey to Osdolen, his coat was tattered, and his boots worn thin. He would now wish to seek repair, replacement, and replenishment of his attire. But first, a drink. He moved to the Callandil and requested a mug.</font> After which, he moved to join Aragorn's table and meet the others who had also given pledge.
</font>
</font>http://i329.photobucket.com/albums/l395/shybutnotforpics/Lord%20of%20the%20Rings%20RP%203/Elegost.jpg

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
07/Aug/2011, 02:09 AM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font></font>felt a twinge of sadness come over him. He didn't trust himself to speak for several moments, so he pretended to be checking how many arrows were left in his quiver. Finally, when it was his turn to shoot he said, </span></font>"I am very sorry for the loss of your father. And you said your mother was still living in Archet? Do you often get a chance to visit her?" As for his own parentage, his adoptive mother was long dead, and he had no knowledge of his biological parents. It was a steady source of sadness and, at times, depression, and was the cause for the many years he had spent rogue, wandering the lands alone.

He shot off four more arrows, forcing a smile at Emeralda's joke about the wind and her last few shots. "It does not seem to be agreeing with us today, does it? Though it could just be trying to challenge us more. We cannot pick the settings of our battles, after all." His own shots were just about as bad as hers. His first and third were pretty bad, his second a little better. Only his fourth shot did well, and that one was a bulls-eye. After checking his arrows again, he found he had only three remaining. He believed Emeralda had only four left. A little envious, for in his mind he was keeping score, he saw she was still doing much better than he was. Not that it mattered in a friendly competition, but somehow he felt mildly annoyed with himself that he was being beaten by... a woman...
</font>
OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
Cumulative score: 56 (21/24 arrows
shot)</font>)

Rainelle Hérandil
08/Aug/2011, 08:45 AM
Archery Range</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

Emeralda smiled slightly at him and watched as he took his shots. "Yes, she still lives near Archet."</font> She replied. She thought for a moment. "Sometimes I get a chance to, but usually I find myself busy with other things, duties that come with the life of a ranger, and such."</font> She said, a little sadly. She loved being a ranger, but she did miss her mother, and her friend Dare too. She smiled a little. "My friend, Darius, who lives in Archet, he goes to see her every so often to check and make sure she is not in need of anything, and to see that she is safe."</font> She told him. "I asked him to check in on her occasionally."</font> She smiled as he finished his shots and spoke in agreement with her about the wind. "True, the wind is a good test of our skill."</font> She agreed as she stepped up to shoot her last arrows. The first two were somewhat poor, and the third was slightly better, but the last was a bullseye. Emma smiled happily to see that her very last arrow ended up being the best shot she'd done. Stepping aside, she waited on Dinenol to shoot his last three.
(</font>Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 3,+0 Total:3
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
</font>Cumulative score: 57 Arrows shot: 24/24</font>)</font>

Four Winds

Strider smiled and gave a nod to Elegost. "Welcome then, Elegost, son of Elenvaul. These are hard time, I am glad to see so many people who still wish to pledge their service to the rangers." He said, serious and yet happy at the same time. He looked around to see if there was anyone else who may have come in, to give their oath as well.

(sorry for the short strider post, Aragorn won't let me into his mind right now </font>smileys/smiley7.gif)
</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
13/Aug/2011, 05:00 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>silently moved into place and shot his final three arrows. He was rather disgruntled to see that he had fired two miserable shots and only one bulls-eye. At least his quiver was now empty so he would have to suffer no further embarrassment. </span></font>"Congratulations," he said, his voice masking any negative emotions he had about being beaten by her, and the smile he gave her was much the same. He was not a sore loser, but he realized he needed to get in more practicing before they competed again. He looked around and saw Nienna lying patiently in the grass nearby. "Well, shall we fetch our arrows and then get a bite of breakfast at the Four Winds?"</font>

OOC </span> - (Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Roll(1d4)+0: 1,+0 Total:1
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Final score: 65</font>)

Beren Camlost
14/Aug/2011, 10:19 PM
The Four Winds

http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif

</font> What a tease, Beren thought as Moriel's finger caressed the back of his shoulders lightly only to sit next to Mr Grim and Dour. Hey, you're not sitting next to me but you're still around me, Beren pointed out, and you're speaking to me. Good signs. The thing is, Moriel, you're playing hard to get - Beren said and whatever else he couldn't finish because of the scone that Khallador shoved in his mouth to silence him from annoying the peredhel any further. At least for a minute. Beren started, his mouth forming a small O, as Moriel remaked that the man Beren thought he remembered was Aragorn, himself. Bema's arse, it's true ! Beren exclaimed, taking a closer look and he almost left his seat to speak to Strider but decided to remain at the table ; he was speaking important business with others it seemed. I met him once. Callandil - he was sitting nearby again, resuming his breakfast now everyone was served and he had given Elegost his mug - laughed and asked, Is this a tall tale or the actual truth. Callandil was amused. He's actually not lying nor exaggerating, Callandil, Khallador replied with a laugh - Beren appeared offended, crossing his arms and glowering - and mentioned, to Moriel, A miracle. But, yes, Beren went on an adventure with Aragorn and Elrond's herald, Aigronding, to get rid of the Blackwold ruffians. Beren grinned like a hero.

If it wasn't for me - Beren began to declaim, lifting a finger in the air but Khallador interrupted acidly - I'm sure Eriador would be the safer place it is today with the Blackwolds thoroughly defeated. You didn't get rid of the problem single-handedly you know. Beren began to rattle on about how it wasn't for him, the wizard Galen wouldn't have been part of the team and it was his doings which got the Rangers and the Elven warriors together to smash the Blackwold threat but Khallador talked over him to speak with Moriel. You know famous people, he said with a grin and patted her hand, but now you must start doing famous things ! and laughed ; all the half-elves most educated folk knew about were ones who did great historic acts. He frowned as his friend told him she duties here. All right, if something should happen to me, Mayor Harkness will have Miss Teague - Beren's eyebrows lifted at the mention of the name - send a message to Osdolen somehow, contact one of the Rangers at the Pony to bring it here. And then you can find out if I need help or someone to speak at my funeral...unless you need a funeral yourself if you're not as tricksy as you wanted ! There were all sorts of deadly creatures in the mountains of Angmar and its Desolation and the Forodwaith, vile things and werewolves and huge bears and other violent beasts ; the Iron Men themselves were quite dangerous and there were wights and drakes.....there were tales that mûmakil were in the north but smaller and wooly. Moriel made a sarcastic remark about taproom girls that needed Beren's handsomeness to make them happy so Khall should take him along but Beren replied : There is only one woman in Bree for me, and her pretty face is the only one I care about. I shouldn't have left or we'd still have something. Everything. All my fault. I can try to forget the lass with a million beautiful women but it never works. I know I'll never love them, only her.

The words were spoken calmly but his voice throbbed with deep feeling. His expression had changed, becoming lost and dreamy for several moments and then resolved and serious the next. I want to come with you to Bree, Khall ; I want to see Mal. Khallador pursed his lips. I don't think that's a good idea, he responded slowly, you know how she is whenever you drop by. Beren's fist tightly held his tankard. Well, that's going to stop ; I'm a good man and if we can't be together, I see no reason why she and I can't be friends ; she doesn't hate me but still heartbroken and angry. When we get to Bree, we'll split up ; I need to see if I can change things between us. Khallador mentioned that he didn't know how long he was going to be. I'll come back when I feel like it, Beren said with a shrug and Khallador narrowed his eyes. You're a ranger now, Khallador warned, remember that. You duties will take you not just near but far as well ; I won't let you spend too much time in Bree waiting on a woman that won't have you ; that's not good for us, the people that need our protection, and it's certainly not good for you. Are we clear ? Beren said nothing and the two men stared at each other dangerously and disgusted. The arrival of a beautiful, older woman (Lieska) distracted Beren's gaze ; her vibrant red hair was in a braid and she looking at Niek. It was until Cousin Buzzkill made me upset, miss, Beren replied and Khallador rolled his green eyes. Callandil arose from his chair and smiled. I believe I've seen you here several times though it's been a while, madame, he spoke and touched her hand to shake in greeting. I am Callandil, the owner of this establishment ; may I get you something to eat and drink ? He glanced at Niek. Are you two acquainted somehow ?</font>
</font>
</span>



Edited by: Koala

Niek Elbadin
15/Aug/2011, 07:27 AM
Niek and Lieska Elbadin
The Four Winds


Lieska nodded graciously at Callandil's attention, "A light ale would make my evening heaven," She insisted sweetly, casting her eyes over Niek with an amused twitch of her lips, "And I'm afraid he and I are a kin of sorts."

Niek set his lips stubbornly and blew a huff of angry air out his nose, meeting her amusement with dedicated insolence. She clucked at him and smiled.

Turning her attention to Beren, she said, "Now," and swept her skirts out of the way, moving swiftly around the table and taking a seat on Niek's knee. He tried to scoot forward so she wouldn't fit, but she pinned him with a pointed glance and he gave in, pushing his chair back barely a hair. Crossing her ankles, she continued, "What could this terrible cousin of yours have done to ruin a warm dinner among friend?" Lieskateased, "Something truly unspeakable, I'm sure."

Horror grew in the pit of his stomach, gnawing through his brain as he realized Lieska was handling his dinner companions with the same careless playfulness she used on his few friends as children, without realizing it was not mere friendliness to a man full grown. She hardly appeared as a woman with a son full grown, just a Niek was not seen as a man beyond thirty. The blessings of the Dunedain turned swiftly when a horse of a man looked at his mother as if she were a gleeful young filly.

Niek reared up and saidabruptly, "May we talk?"

But his mother turned to him with an ever patient smile and said simply, "No," before she returned to her conversation.

She knew exactly what she was doing with Beren!
</font>



</font>With an accusing glare, Niek leaned back in his chair and waited.</font>



Edited by: Niek Elbadin

Leanan Sídhe
18/Aug/2011, 10:36 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

He hadn't slept wel that night, and had fallen into an open-eyed doze over his breakfast as he was won't to do on a horse in the years before his leg was injured, and therefore missed several of the early morning people trying to get his attention. One person called his name loud enough to startle him, and he blinked to find his taproom quite crowded already.

"Oh, snap." He said, quickly leaving his cooling breakfast for what it was and going round the tables to ask for what people wanted. It took him an half hour or so to have everyone served, sending out his son - who had just appeared, sleepy eyed, from his bed upstairs - with a plate to Thalion on the wall before returning to his - now cold - breakfast.

Beren seemed a little in his cups already and was boasting on knowing Elrond's herald and having met Aragorn once. Well, that wasn't such a hard task, Callandil himself had spoken to their leader plenty of times, and most rangers had once met the man. He refrained from mentioning this however, content to chuckle over his cold porridge. When Lieska Elbadin entered, he frowned a bit, then chuckled again. He knew her, and said so.

Callandil left for the bar and quickly returned with a mug of light ale for Lieska, setting on the table before her before returning to the last of his breakfast, eyes creased in merriment as he watched the show.

@Everyone - So sorry all, I've had a very busy summer which unexpectedly left me less time for plaza than I wanted. That's solved now, so I'll be a continuous presence here once again. =) </font>-
</font>



Edited by: Arya Stark

Rian Eliowen
21/Aug/2011, 12:47 AM
</font>Dairen
- The Four Winds</span>



</span>It seemed that the formal oath taking part of the
proceedings was now over, and Dairen</span>,
having a bit of silver in his pocket , caught Callandil's eye, and ordered a
round of drinks for the table – so that Aragorn,
Elegost, Tarawen</span> and himself tcould toast their new status.

Afterwards they were introduced to several of the other rangers present, and
eventually Dairen found that the three new recruits would be joining the Shadow
Company, under the leadership of Tolkus. They would be leaving shortly for Fornost,
or Deadman’s Dike as it had been known locally, on a reconnaissance mission. It
appeared thatanother of the rangers , <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Khallador,[/b]
</span>who was seated among </span>the noisy group nearby would also be coming
with them.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /></span>

</font>Dairen was looking forward to getting to know the outspoken Tarawen
and the mysterious Elegost , in the course of their mission. He would have to go and look after his horse, and organize for somewhere to stay in Osdolen, but that could wait, as Tarawen wasasking a question.</span>

</font>



Edited by: Rian Eliowen

Tarawen
21/Aug/2011, 03:02 AM
The Four Winds

Seated already at the table, Tara observed as the newcomer Elegost took his oath as well. "I'm glad to be among such good company," she said simply when he had finished and once Aragorn had welcomed Elegost to their comnany. She smiled at him and looked back at Aragorn--he seemed a man of few words, but what words he spoke commanded respect. Perhaps it was something about his eyes or the way he held himself . . . no, it he seemed to be all in all a man that commanded the honor of others without actually demanding it. This was somewhat of a relief to her, to find herself sworn in under a man who led by nature.

Tara pushed some stray hairs out of her face before leaning forward towards the table, elbows resting on her thighs. "So, where do you all come from?" She looked at Aragorn, Dairen, Thorondil, and Elegost. "I journeyed north from Gonder to take this oath and to begin a new life," she said, answering her own question to break the ice. "It's good to see there are many others who are interested in the same lifestyle."

She fell quiet at this, hoping to learn more about her new comrades. She was particularly interested to learn more about Aragorn, given his position of authority, but she also wanted to know more about Dairen--he had tried rather unsuccessfully to hide a laugh when she had first approached the table, and had been looking at her every now and then since then. She wondered what that was about, and hoped she hadn't been too rude or impertinent. She knew it was not a typical quality in the women of Gondor to be outspoken, at least not among those she knew, but she was different. And that was partially why she had chosen to make the long journey north. And when Dairen ordered drinks for the table--how could she resist? She was dying to know more about everyone, to judge their trustworthiness and to get her chance to see deeply into them once they began to speak.

((OOC: Sorry everyone, you may be noticing my crazy post editing...I realized I'd forgotten to put where I was in several posts and also wanted to update Tara's post color. This will be the last color change, promise.</font>))
</font>



Edited by: Platypus

Rian Eliowen
22/Aug/2011, 07:25 PM
Dairen - the Four Winds

There was a loud buzz of conversation in the room, and the air was thick with the aroma of hot food. Dairen took a long drink, and hoped thatCallandil would come by to take his order as he was becoming really hungry,and it had been some time since he had eaten a hot meal. Tarawen, who explained that she had come from Gondor to start her new life, had kept the conversation alive, and had then asked where each of the men at the table had come from. " I have recently come from Isengard, which is far enough - if not as far as Gondor," said Dairen. "That was where I have been living for the past four years, - and perhaps you might be interested in the report that I bring , as all is not as it should bein the lands around the Tower of Orthanc". He gave Aragorn a direct and meaningful look, hoping to be able to speak more frankly at some other time, as it would be important for the leader of the Rangers to know what kind of friends Saruman had been making lately. This was not the time or place for such unsettling news.Dairen wondered what reply the others might make to Tarawen's question.



Edited by: Rian Eliowen

Galastel
23/Aug/2011, 01:11 AM
Aiwe - The Four Winds

What am I doing here, in this drinking place, when there are yet orcs to kill? Aiwe thought with irony, entering the Four Winds taproom. A bitter smirk passed on her face. Weakness. Laziness. She had come to Osdolen for supplies, and for news. Many leagues she had passed, wandering in the wild places of Eriador. Her cloak had seen better days, and her boots were caked with mud. A lone ranger. Sometimes, as chance had it, she joined others for a little while. Mostly, she travelled on her own. More than a few had seen her, but none could say they knew her well.
She was a young woman, as far as one could judge from appearance. At least, there was no white in her ruthlessly short raven-black hair, and there was a vitality in her skin and limbs that time in the wild had not yet worn out. But there was a grimness in her features and a bitterness in her clear grey eyes that should have been the result of many years of thankless toil.

She had not intended to stay the night in Osdolen. Her plan had been to resupply, and mover again, before the evening wore away. But in truth, Aiwe was tired. One hot meal of as much food as her stomach desired, rather than no more than she could spare thinking of the days ahead, one night of peaceful sleep, not waking at every odd noise - she sorely needed those, though she was loth to admit it. And also, she needed news. After many days alone in the wild, she had no knowledge of the events in the land - whether evil was stirring somewhere, whether help was required anywhere. For this, for information, there was Rivendel, a sanctuary frequented by the rangers, there was Bree, where many travellers passed, and there was Osdolen, a refuge that belonged to the rangers alone.

Having ordered a tankard of dark ale, and a plate of roast meat, Aiwe set down at a table and looked around. Aragorn was there. That was a rare chance. This man didn't tarry long in one place, but travelled where need took him. They call him Strider. Aiwe thought in wonder. They cannot, of course, know who he is - even we do not speak his name openly, but do they not see he is not some vagabond? They look at him - at Him, and frown, and complain that there's no King now to keep odd strangers away from their villages. If that's not irony, what is? She had seen the leader once or twice before, but had never actually talked to him. Nor did she approach him now. Surely, if Aragorn was in Osdolen, it was on some important business. Rather, Aiwe watched, and listened.

It appeared that several men and women have just taken the Oath of the Rangers. They were now sitting, talking together. One appeared to be from Gondor, another from Isengard. The young woman remembered for a moment her own oath, given several years back, when Halbarad had chanced to pass through Rivendel. What had it been? I, Aiwe, hereby swear to hunt and to fight any evil that threatens the free people of Eriador, or of any other land. I pledge my loyalty and my life to serve this cause, and to serve the heir of Isildur and Valandil, without reservation, until the day I die. It had not been worded well. She had been young then. She had had more hope then, and more zeal. The time that passed had taught her some patience. Not enough, many said, but some. On an impulse, Aiwe aproached the table where the new rangers (Tarawen, Dairen, Elegost) sat. "May I join you?" she asked. "I've overheard you come from far away. What news from the South?"




Edited by: Galastel

Asha'bellanar
23/Aug/2011, 03:01 AM
Elegost </font>NPC</font>
The Four Winds</font>

Elegost thanked Dairen for the drink after they had shared a toast, it was</font> very much needed after his restless journey to Osdolen. Only a moment had passed since he had taken the Oath, and already he was part of what seemed to be a family. A true blessing, to someone who had spent the many recent years, alone. What excellent company, he thought, what better people to fight alongside? Though he was never one to jump to quick conclusions, Elegost felt that he would become very close to Dairen and Tarawen. The thought of purchasing new gear and perhaps a horse came to him, but he placed this errand aside for now. He looked to his new friends and leader, and smiled as he took a taste at his given drink. </font>Despite his sixty-four years, Elegost had begun his career as a
ranger, far later than most present at the inn. He was a seasoned rogue,
but appeared no more than thirty. A few years with the ranger would
surely age him now. </font>

He listened as Tara shared of her journey from Gondor, though Elegost knew well of the realm, he had never been there. She might have shared more if he asked, but Elegost held back his inquiry and turned to Dairen as he spoke. Isengard, interesting. Elegost did not know much of the current happenings there, having not spoken to anybody in some months. When it was his turn to share, he took a drink first, a bit nervous. Having spent almost two years without much social interaction, made him a bit, uneasy among sudden company. Nevertheless, he wanted to change that now. "Me" he said, "I have come from a long stay in Chetwood, a family of hunters was so kind as to open their home to me for some time. I was badly wounded from an assault by Brigands at the borders of the forest. They mended my injuries and allowed me to stay with them. After I healed, I knew I could no longer go at it alone, or without allies, not to mention proper allegiance to the Chieftain of the Dúnedain" He lifted his mug to Aragorn and took another drink.

</font>He would give further detail of his life with time, no doubt many more discussions as such, would to come. Elegost turned his head to the woman (Aiwe) who approached their table. "Greetings" he nodded, then moved to make room. Elegost sat himself in the empty chair next to him, allowing her to sit between him and Tara. In courtesy, he purchased another tankard and gave it to her, so that she might join them in drink as well.

</font>http://i329.photobucket.com/albums/l395/shybutnotforpics/Lord%20of%20the%20Rings%20RP%203/Elegost.jpg





Edited by: Sur Vanar Utírieste

Rainelle Hérandil
23/Aug/2011, 08:48 PM
Archery Range</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg</font>

Emeralda smiled and extended her hand to shake hands. "Very good shooting."</font> She said, always trying to be a good sport. She was actually faintly disappointed that she had won yet again in an archery competition. She thought it would have been a bit nice to actually lose for once, but oh well. She smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am pretty hungry."</font> She agreed, heading toward the targets to get her arrows. "I'll buy breakfast."</font> She told him with a smile. Since she beat him in the shooting, she </font>decided</font> she'd buy his breakfast and be nice.

Four Winds

Aragorn was a bit surprised when Dairen ordered a round of drinks, but he didn't protest. He thanked him for it, and took a drink from the tankard when it was brought to the table. He listened as Tarawen asked where they all hailed from, and Dairen told her that he was from the area of Isengard. He had already heard that, when they were talking before Tarawen came over. He did however catch the look that he gave him, and understood that he wanted to talk somewhere. He gave a small nod perceptible only to one who was looking for it, Dairen. </font></font>He sat back and listened as Elegost told that he was from the chetwood, and nodded a bit. </font></font>He looked up a bit as yet another person asked to join their table. "Yes, of course." He said with a welcoming wave of his hand. He would have bought the extra drink for her, but Elegost got to it first.
</font></font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
28/Aug/2011, 04:41 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>smiled and shook her hand when she extended it to him. As they headed to fetch their arrows he shook his head emphatically. </span></font>"No!" Then, realizing how harsh it might sound, he hastened to add, "I mean, you won. You should be treated to a meal, not the other way around." There was no way he was going to let her buy his meal after beating him. That would be doubly humiliating. He plucked all twenty-four of his arrows from his target and stuffed them into his quiver, and then knelt to unstring his bow. Nienna had tagged along behind them, giving a rather forlorn expression as if she felt ignored. But Dinenol knew she was just pouting, so he paid her no heed. "Well, I guess we might as well head over now."
</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
29/Aug/2011, 12:32 AM
Archery Range
</font>http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg
</font>
Emeralda paused for a moment and glanced at him, noticing how sharply he'd said no. "Alright."</font> She said quietly with a nod, realizing that he probably felt that he should buy his own meal, being a man and all. Pride and such, she understood. Though she blushed a little when he said that she should be treated to a meal because she won. She really wanted to argue that she won so she wanted to treat him to a meal, but she didn't want to offend him or anything, and she realized that men could be kind of touchy about such things, so she dropped it.
</font>
She collected all her arrows, which had fletching</font> of two green feathers</font> and one white feather, on each arrow. She put her arrows back in her quiver, then carefully unstrung her own bow, seeing that he was doing so. In the back of her mind, she didn't really like to do this, because she liked to have her bow always ready to shoot at a moment's notice, just in case. But she knew it was also not as good for the bow to remain strung at all times. So she unstrung it, then strung it again backwards, since hers was a recurve. This would help keep the curves in it, which gave it most of the power and all.

Seeing that the dog looked dejected and sad, she smiled a little and rubbed the top of her head. </font>"Well, I guess we might as well head over now."</font> She heard Dinenol say, and she nodded and smiled as she stood straight. "Alright, let's go then."</font> She said cheerfully, and hoped that he was still not upset that she had offered to buy his meal. Holding her bow in one hand, she waited for Dinenol, and then started heading toward the Four Winds, keeping her pace so she wouldn't get ahead of him.
</font>

Tolkus
29/Aug/2011, 08:53 PM
The Wall Thalion greeted the son of Callandil when he broght the man his breakfast. Thalion was hungrey and went right to eating. Thalion had picked the arch over the entrance to the city to have his breakfast and it was a grand view. Evergreens covering the landscape with out crops of large bolders like teeth that sprang from the ground. It was going to be a warm day and clear skies with a slight breeze blowing from the north. Days like this Thalion liked because his vision was extenedall around the outside of the city.

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
04/Sep/2011, 06:11 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Archery Range --&gt; Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>led the way towards the Four Winds, Nienna at his heels, and Emeralda at his side. When they reached the Four Winds he held the door open for her to enter first but suddenly Nienna shot forward in front of them both and entered the building. The hound then turned around and looked at them expectantly, wagging her tail as if to say, "Well, come on!" Dinenol rolled his eyes and motioned for Emeralda to move in front of him. He shook his head at Nienna and inwardly sighed. Women. They were all the same, it seemed. Didn't make a lick of a difference whether they were dogs or humans. Or elves, dwarves or hobbits, for that matter...</span></font>

Tarawen
04/Sep/2011, 06:59 PM
The Four Winds

Tara was pleased to see the crowd gathering to exchange news and stories of their lives. Being alone </font>on the road</font> (except for Sirdal's horsely company) had been a lonely experience, and she relished the opportunity to get to know people in the North better. Her new life was here, and the people in it would contribute greatly, she knew, to her happiness or sadness, sense of belonging or otherwise, and her happiness. People made a place.

"Isengard, eh?" she asked Dairen when he told of his background. Elegost too began his tale of the events leading up to his coming to Osdolen to join up with the Rangers of the North; it seemed he had undergone a hard time recently. Tara had many questions for both men, but stayed her wonderings as the group was joined by a newcomer (Alwe)--another woman, a fellow ranger by her looks and carriage.

"Indeed some of us have traveled far to reach Osdolen and a new life," she said in greeting to the woman. "I hail from Gondor. There is not much to tell these days; for a few years now there has been a new Prince of Dol Amroth. King Theoden of Rohan has recently begun to fall ill, so they say. Aside from that, I have not much to report." She sipped her drink and watched as another tankard was delivered to the newcomer at Elegost's request. "I jumped right into news so quickly that I didn't ask your name," she said apologetically. "What might it be, and where are you coming from?"

</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
04/Sep/2011, 09:53 PM
Four Winds
</font>http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/Emeralda.jpg
</font>
Emeralda walked along with Dinenol, and smiled when he opened the door. Before she could take a step inside though, Nienna cut in front of her. Emeralda laughed a little and followed the dog inside. She turned, tossing her hair behind her, since it had fallen from it's bun due to the wind and such, then waited for Dinenol to enter. She cast a quick glance toward the table with the guy she didn't know (Strider), who was surrounded by a lot of new people. She was a bit curious, but she didn't go bother them. She was too shy to do something like that. She spotted Khallador and waved slightly in his direction with a friendly smile, but he was surrounded by a bunch of people, some she didn't know and some she recognized a bit. But their table seemed a bit full, so she waited on Dinenol to enter, and then found an empty table and asked if he minded that spot.</font>


Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
08/Sep/2011, 04:27 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>waited and then followed Nienna and Emeralda inside. Emeralda found an empty table nearby and Dinenol shrugged and nodded when she asked if it was an okay spot. </span></font>"It's as likely as any other place. Seems a mite crowded isn't it? I hope we can get food without too much of a delay. Being bea -er- being out and about, doing some archery and the such, it always builds up an appetite." He'd almost slipped and said that being beaten made him hungry. He looked down at Nienna who was peering up at him with that knowing look... He sighed and held out a chair for Emeralda and then sat down himself. He looked around for Callandil, hoping to catch the innkeeper's attention so that they could order some food. "I suppose I could always throw something together," he muttered. Having lived on his own for some time, he could cook some pretty mean (http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6158/6163268210_fa15ab90da_t.jpg) meals, but he wasn't sure he was ready to try out his cooking on a woman. In his experience, little though it may be, they could be quite the critics of food...</font>



Edited by: Mar Fireblade Mordagnir

Galastel
08/Sep/2011, 06:40 PM
Aiwe - The Four Winds

Rangers moved to make place for Aiwe. The young woman thanked her comrades, taking a place by the table with them. Drinking of the ale Elegost offered her, she listened with interest to Tarawen's words. To some people in Eriador, certainly to the Hobbits of the Shire, but also to the men of Bree-land, Gondor and Rohan were but distant names. But rangers, fighting against all the evils created by the Dark Lord of old, of whom Sauron was but a servant, could not fence themselves in their land, ignoring all else. The territory of the former Northern Kingdom was their ward, but they had to know what was happening outside their borders. And also, there were the half-whispered prophesies concerning the Lord Aragorn. They could be no more than wishful thinking, words said by old men, worn by endless toil. Men always looked to their leaders with hope that they'd bring a change for the better. But perhaps there was truth in those whispers after all? And if so, what event would herald it?

Having told a little of the goings on of the South, Tarawen turned to Aiwe with a question. "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself," the young woman replied. "My name's Aiwe." No 'daughter of'. She hoped they wouldn't notice. "I come from Mithlond at the moment." A sad smile passed over her face, and disappeared again, almost to brief to see. She had said farewell in Mithlond to people who had been dear to her despite many disagreements. "But you say King Theoden is unwell?" Aiwe turned the conversation away from herself. "That is sad tidings. I remember hearing he was a brave leader, and a good king. He has a son, doesn't he? What is he like?" With the darkness growing in the East, every weakness among the free peoples was dangerous.




Edited by: Galastel

Rainelle Hérandil
08/Sep/2011, 08:01 PM
Four Winds
</font>
Emeralda smiled at Dinenol, noticing his change in words, and blushed faintly. She hoped that he wasn't bitter about it. She actually thought he was good competition for her, and she thought he could easily beat her if they were to have another competition. "Thank you."</font> She said politely when he pulled out a chair for her. She hadn't expected that, but it was a nice unexpectedness. She sat gracefully and pulled her hair around over her shoulder, tucking some of it behind her ear as she did. She hadn't been in here very often, and she wasn't entirely sure what was likely to be on the menu. She too would normally cook for herself, but this was more convenient. She smiled and petted Nienna gently on the head. "She reminds me of my dog, back home. I left mine there though, to give my mother protection while I'm not there."</font> She trusted the dog to keep her mother safe, and the dog also knew and trusted her friend Dare, who had promised to come see her mother every so often to make sure all was well with her.</font>

Rian Eliowen
09/Sep/2011, 07:44 AM
Dairen - The Four Winds
The converstaion at the table had turned to events elsewhere, and then Aiwe had introduced herself.
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Dairen</span>[/b] was fascinated to find himself among such a diverse and interesting group of rangers. Hisrecent company of late hadconsisted ofhis horse for many long weeks and before that, at Isengard, the available company had been of a decidedly unsavoury character. </span>He answered Aiwe's question regarding Theoden as best as he could - not sure if Tarawen might have other information about the King of Rohan.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /></span>
"I have heard reports that King Theoden has aged greatly before his time of late and is no longer properly defending the borders of the Mark. There are orcs and bandits abroad in the lands, and and the men of Rohan are not as welcoming to visitors and strangers as once they were</span>" said Dairen. He then turned to Elegost and Aiwe, sensing that they might have more news to impart, "What of events in Mithlond - it seems that all lands are showing signs of a growing shadow. " he asked.</span>


Edited by: Rian Eliowen

Galastel
11/Sep/2011, 11:33 PM
Aiwe - The Four Winds

The more Aiwe heard about the state of affairs in Rohan, the more it troubled her. That a man and a King should grow old - sad as it was, it happened. Before his time - this happened too. Who could say how much time was allotted to him? One man could live to a hundred, while his neighbour, leading a similar life, would pass away from pneumonia at sixty. But that Theoden was no longer the King he used to be - that orcs and bandits roamed freely in his land - in this time of gathering shadows, this was ill news. Was he, then, failing mentally more than physically? Would Rohan suffer now years of bad leadership? Would Theoden, in his dotage, lose all that was once dear to him? A leader unfit for leading could be a disaster not only to himself, but to all those who followed him, and to many others nearby. Did King Theoden have no councillors who could protect his realm in his failing years, by any means of persuasion turn his mind to the correct course? And in such an ill time too. But most worrying of all were the news that strangers were no longer welcome in Rohan, where once the Rohirrim were known for their hospitality. Allies distancing one from the other. Almost, it was, as if some greater power was playing them. Luckily, that's impossible. Aiwe thought. Even if all that is said about the Dark Lord be true, there's no way he could affect a man's mind so, and from such a distance.

But though the troubles of far-away lands were a matter of concern, there was little a northern ranger could do about them, save be aware, and ready when the evil came closer. The leaders of the free people - now they could perhaps change the course of events. In the chess-game of the world, they were no pawns.
Aiwe looked thoughtfully at Aragorn. He had not said a word, but information was swirling in the air around him. He had only to listen to pick it up, and the young woman had no doubt he was listening. How is he doing it? she wondered. I wish I could find out things this way - just wait for all the news to come to me.

But again, Aiwe's chain of thought was broken by a question addressed to her, this time by Dairen. The cynical smile returned to her lips as she answered. "The lands might show signs of a shadow, but it is slow to cover the lands of the Elves" who complain so much about fading she added in her mind. "And least of all it seems to touch their Westernmost hold. Maybe it's too far away even for Him, if indeed all the shadows of those days come from His land. That's, at least, my impression of the Grey Havens," she added in a more friendly tone. "I have spent there only a short while, and I came on a private business. It could well be that things are going there that I do not know of."

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
12/Sep/2011, 09:38 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>didn't quite know what to say in reply to Emeralda's comment about her old dog that she used to have. He wasn't good at replying to comments such as those. He was sure that whatever came out of his mouth would probably end up sounding uncaring... so he decided to just keep his mouth shut. He looked around and noticed Callandil going by. </span></font>"Say Callandil, we'd like to get some breakfast. Um... two fried eggs, some bacon and sausages, and some biscuits and gravy are good for me. Fresh milk will be good to drink." He looked at Emeralda. "What should you like?" As he waited for her to tell Callandil, Dinenol wondered if payment was even required. He had never actually eaten at the Four Winds. He'd always caught and cooked his own food outside. Given how remote Osdolen could be, he couldn't help but wonder how that sort of thing worked out...</font>

Asha'bellanar
20/Sep/2011, 01:34 AM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV align=left>Elegost NPC
The Four Winds

Elegost was glad to see his tankard was accepted, he drank as his own, as he listened to the conversation at the table unfold. Indeed there appeared to be turbulence throughout the world, it wasn't good news, no good news at all for the Free Peoples, and those who sought to protect them. When Dairen brought up the subject of Lindon, Elegost raised his eyebrows. After Aiwe responded, the new ranger cleared his throat. "She's right" he said, "no orc makes its way to the realm of Lord Círdan... but I cannot say the same for men. Outlaws have set their sights on the coast land, more and more of that scum attempt to steal and profit off the ports. Make off with goods, ships. Killing if necessary. It is a vulnerable land, in which the light of the elves is constant, but not untouchable. There are few to guard that realm, they depend much on the aid of their allies, and us to help them..." Elegost drank from his tankard again.


<DIV align=right>http://i329.photobucket.com/albums/l395/shybutnotforpics/Lord%20of%20the%20Rings%20RP%203/Elegost.jpgEdited by: Sur Vanar Utírieste

Rian Eliowen
23/Sep/2011, 05:38 AM
It seemed as if many parts of Middle Earth were falling under the shadow of evil times, but until the king returned to Gondor, and the threat of the Shadow in the East was ended, Dairen could not imagine when the news and tidings might bring better cheer. It was time to go and see to his faithful horse, and to find himself some lodgings, until he was assigned a mission or joined a company elsewhere. He quietly excused himself from the group and the conversation of teh common room and went to sort out his affairs now that he was officially a Ranger of Eriador. It had been a memorable and emotion charged day.

Tarawen
03/Oct/2011, 02:46 AM
The Four Winds

"Dairen speaks the truth," she said, nodding to Alwe as she took a sip of her tubeng. "My mother hailed from Rohan in her youth; she was young when King Théoden took the throne, and she knew him as a hale and hearty man who ruled his people with a firm but loving hand." Tarawen had to take a sip of her drink, for speaking of her mother and her mother's homeland produced a constricting lump in her throat. The strong kick of the tubeng would help bring her voice back to normal.

"The borders are indeed less well-protected than they were, though you ask of Théoden's son--Théodred. He is a fierce warrior and steadfast man, seemingly the most committed man in all of Rohan to keeping evildoers out of their lands. He is a strong man, capable of leading in these hard times. We must all hope that his will prevails in counsel, and that his friendship with Éomer, his cousin, proves a strong alliance. Rohan and Gondor need one another," she finished plainly, thinking of the sweeping plains of the southern lands, the wide expanses of territory now barely-guarded in these hard times. Tara shook her head and drank her tubeng, learning of Mithlond and the lands of the elves as she listened to her fellows continue to exchange news--most of it ominous.

Despite the dark tone of the conversation, she was eager to learn more of the lands occupied by the firstborn. Tara was particularly interested in Elegost's account of the state of things in Mithlond--the bit about the elves needing their allies' help caught her ear. "It sounds as though guards are scarce in all lands these days," she said, thinking of her own lands. "This is why I came north," she continued. "We are too few and far between; the world needs heroes of a silent sort, who can maintain the peace and happiness in lands toward which the shadow of evil reaches its long fingers . . . " she drifted off, brow furrowed as she uttered these dark words. "That is why we must all stand and fight. It is our duty, to our people and to others who may need us." She drained her mug at this, and sat back to mull over all the news and hear more, if it were to come.

</font>

Edited by: Tarawen

Rainelle Hérandil
07/Oct/2011, 07:46 PM
Emma listened as Dinenol called Callandil over, and smiled as Dinenol gave his order. "I'd like milk too please." She hadn't had milk in forever, it seemed. "And.. if you have anything potato-ey, that would be nice." She said with a small laugh. Something like hashbrowns or fried potatoes, or whatever was common. She smiled down at Nienna, and started thinking about finding some time to go visit her mother, and her own dog too. She wondered how they were doing.


(@ Dairen, Tarawen, Elegost, Aiwe, and anyone else at Strider's table:i'm not entirely sure how to post with strider, since there's a lot of information being toldto himthat he isn't supposed to know until the events of the books happens)

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
09/Oct/2011, 03:46 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>chuckled as Callandil moved off to get their orders made. To Emeralda he asked, </span></font>"Just milk and potatoes? Awfully light breakfast." He was a heavy eater. He liked his meals to be big. Often on the trail he got really lame meals that were either bland (like travel rations) or so much the same that they lost their appeal (like hunting for every meal, nothing but meat, meat, meat). When he could, he liked treating himself to a meal at the local inn. Something with lots of variety and flavor.

"After this what are you planning on doing? Back to the range?"
</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
09/Oct/2011, 09:56 PM
Four Winds

Emeralda laughed slightly. "I'm not a very big eater."</font> She said. She actually tried not to get in the habit of eating a lot, because when she went out traveling or something, there was likely to be less to eat, and so she figured if she was already used to eating light, it wouldn't be too much different when she had to eat light while traveling. However, after hearing it, she realized that milk and potatoes was quite small, so she asked for some fruit as well, smiling.

She glanced around the place, taking in as many details about not only the place but mostly the people in it too, as she could without staring or making it obvious that she was in fact looking around at people. With her glance she noticed a lot about a lot of people. Particularly that guy sitting with Khallador,(Beren) but she let her emerald gaze pass over him quickly so he wouldn't notice that she had glanced at him. Just in case.

She turned her attention back to Dinenol as he asked her plans for after breakfast. She thought for a moment. "I actually hadn't thought that much about it just yet."</font> She said thoughtfully. "I may do that. I like to practice a lot."</font> She smiled, hoping she didn't sound too obsessed with archery practice or anything.</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
11/Oct/2011, 04:02 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>nodded at her answer.</span></font>
"I know what you mean. I enjoy practicing too. I think I ought take some of the hounds out for a spell, though. Can't keep them cooped up too long or they lose their touch, you know." Just then Callandil gave back bearing their meals. Dinenol passed some money to the man in payment for the meals. Dinenol looked eagerly at his meal and said, "Well, I'm a very big eater, whenever I get the opportunity." And with that comment he dug into his food, politely but with no further waiting. After chewing and swallowing a few bites, he asked her, as casually as he knew how, "So, when you are not practicing your archery or aiding others on the field, what do you like doing?"</font>

Adalmund
11/Oct/2011, 06:58 PM
Four Winds



Adalmund entered the tavern in time to see a young travel worn woman (Tarawen)
approach a table where two men were sitting and express her desire to
join the rangers. He stood hidden in the shadows and observed the
proceedings silently. He had travelled all the way from Rohan to Osdolen
for the same purpose, but being by nature both shy and proud, he
couldn't bring himself to ask anyone for instructions. So he tried to
watch and learn. (I am not going to narrate everything that was done and said by Aragorn and the new rangers</font>)
He listened as they took the oath and he memorised the words, but still
he couldn't bring himself to step forward. He doubted his own worthiness. However, when the afore-mentioned young woman said, "That is why we must all stand and fight. It is our duty, to our people and to others who may need us."</font> he felt the time ripe for revealing himself. He threw back his hood to reveal his shaggy mane of dark hair and unshaven face and walked forward, very aware of his weather beaten and wild appearance. He stopped within a yard of the rangers' table and cleared his throat.

"My lord Aragorn," he said in his most respectful tone. "I would, with your leave," he paused for a fraction of a second, looking straight in the chieftain's grey eyes and continued, "take the Oath of the Rangers"

He then bowed his head and waited for a reply.

OOC EDIT: It only just occurred to me. I hope it isn't against the rules that I made Adalmund enter earlier? If it is, tell me and I will change things. I'm still quite new you see</font>


</font>





Edited by: Adalmund

Hallas C. Pehwarin
12/Oct/2011, 09:23 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin</span>

Outskirts of the hidden Dúnedain refuge of</span> Odsolen

It had taken the 62-year old ranger only a day to reach Odsolen. Rinon who had ridden across Eriador on his beloved rough black haired female horse Nólaquen (Aaron) from his people's hidden training grounds called Maenorthrond (Sindarin; Fort of the Skilled). There he'd refreshed his skills in the arts of healing, warfare, tracking, and survival. Now as he raised his shaggy black and grey flecked haired head concealed by the hood of his dark grey cloak did Rinon see with his keen green eyes in the distance the battered trail that led to his people's hidden abode. For it had long ago been a fortress of Arnor and later its leading splintered kingdom Arthedain... Now though it was the abode of the surviving northern dúnedain and the</span> heirs of Isildur! Whose current holder Aragorn II now ruled the reminder of his folk including Rinon. The veteran ranger was grabbed in the somber concealing attire of his people. For the proud and valiant distant descendant of the 6th Chieftain Araglas wore a long cotton green shirt, black suede leather riding pants, and </font>and whose ends were tucked into the tops of his </font> t</span>all
grey suede leather traveling boots.

Over the shirt rested a tougher
short sleeved suede dark green leather tunic with detachable chain-mail
sleeves secured by thick leather points. The chain-mail's interior was
quilted in soft tan silk to prevent snagging on any of the clothing worn
underneath or exposed skin. Over this inner well crafted and inner
tunic was a sleeveless hard grey leather tunic that offered moderate
protection while not sacrificing mobility. On its front emblazoned in a solid black die cast was the crest of his ancient family. The White of Númenor or Gondor, above which rested two silver 6-pointed and rayed stars. Surrounding these to noble devices were a pair of outstretched seabird's wings in full flight also gilded in the same black die cast.</span> Protecting his waist to the
thighs of his muscular legs the 62-year old northern dúnedain wore a suede grey</span>
leather skirt; whose interior hid two more sheets of chain-mail
attached to the skirt by thick leather points and the chain-mails
interior side was quilted in soft tan silk to prevent snagging on any of
the clothing worn underneath.

Rinon wore about his slim and flat stomach his </span>plain brown belt and attached to it were </span>his wooden scabbard wrapped in dark gray leather that crisscrossed down its length.</span>The scabbard was capped with steel locket and an elegant steel chape that matched the conical steel pommel of his </span>dúnedain ranger </span>sword; which was called </span>Alcarmacil (Glorious Sword or blade) that rested inside. On the right side rested</span>
two black leather pouches filled with wealth from his ancient family occasional still sent by either his son Hallas of the Captain of his families remaining House Guard Artamir Farador, herbs for
healing along with several bandages, and a small amount of pipe-weed
from the Shire Long Bottom Leaf.</span> Over all of this concealing
attire rested a long dark grey cotton cloak whose wide hood and interior
side was quilted lightly in forest green leather. At the nape of his neck rested a polished circular broach. In the center rested a single silver 6-pointed and rayed star. This was the emblem that denoted all of the surviving folk of the Dúnedain </span>who served as Rangers of the North and their noble Chieftain.

Now did Rinon guide Nóla up the path stopping before the gates and reached upward to hood of his weather stained dark grey cloak pulling it down to rest against the back of his neck and broad shoulders. The 62- year ranger revealing his weather-worn yet, still fair face to the sentries on guard. For this direct descendant of the 'faithful' ancient Númenóreans had</span> a
high oval forehead crowned with thick jet black hair streaked with a few
grey strands from his tireless efforts to defend his long lived race and
his Chieftain whom he'd served now for over 30 years, a
pair of thin black eyebrows also flecked with grey, two keen green eyes,
on either side of the rangers' weathered face were two</span> medium sized ears, followed by</span> a medium
sized aquiline nose, set of pale pink lips that gave a warm graceful smile</span> to any fair ladies</span> if they were nearby, and a nicely curved rounded chin covered
by a short black stubble of a new beard now</span> filled in.

The steadfast ranger and lord of his ancient family now called out his deep baritone voice commanding, " Greetings Sentries of Osdolen!' "It is I Rinon Pehwarin and returned from my long travels to speak with our Chieftain if he is here." The 62-year old northern dúnedain now decided to offer proof of his identity and removed a leather bound cord from around his neck. Rinon then held up the true signet ring of his lordship of the Pehwarin family! Held in the meddle of his index and middle finger did the gleaming mithril band flash in the late morning sunlight along with its blue eye stone capped with the White Tree of N</span>úmenor also done in the precious mithril.. For it was the most ancient of all of the heirlooms of Pehwarin household forged and crafted on the isle of the star nearly 3,300 years before. Along its hexagonal base that joined the mithril band together on either side rested two eight pointed stars gilded in gold. Now Rinon hoped that the show of this token of his ancient family would provide proof as he </span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> waited patiently to be allowed entry in the hidden abode of his people.... The 62- year old northern </span>dúnedain slipped the ring onto his left forefinger.</span>

~~~~~~~~

Guard of Osdolen
</span>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> son of Eärnor

The 55-year old ranger and guard of Odsolen had watched with his ash grey colored eyes now for several minutes the approach of single rider and his rough haired horse make its to the hidden refuge of his long lived race. The rider was garbed in fashion of the Rangers of the North and stopped before the secured iron and wooden gate of Odsolen. The tall 6- foot and 5 inch Ranger revealed his weathered yet fair face to</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>! The man called himself Rinon Pehwarin and held up in his hand a token of his family being a gleaming blue jeweled signet ring! "Fine craftsmanship!" though 55-year old guardian of Osdolen. Now </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol looked around for his CO Captain </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Thalion</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> since he'd been a guardian of their hidden abode fore several years and wondered if he'd have the authority to allow the entry of this Rinon..... He was suspicious and rightly so since only their fellow rangers knew where their hidden strongholds were located throughout Eriador!

OOC: Tolkus</font> my 'old man' Rinon is now waiting patiently for entry into Odsolen.. Yet my NPC </font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol is weary since only our kin know where our strongholds lay across Eriador. He has been of guard for the last ten years and my 'old man' has been traveling around Eriador for the last 15, so </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol does not know him.. But you as Thalion should since you and he have been in years past close comrades. Aig feel free to come out onto the walls and admit in your 'kin', who is a distant descendant of your line...smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley19.gif</font>
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>






Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Rior Laegiel
14/Oct/2011, 10:52 PM
Aedán
Four Winds</font>



Pushing the door open, Aedán entered the pub and walked further
inside as the door closed behind him. His dark brown hair was cut short
and he'd allowed his facial hair to grow to a stubble. The dark green
cloak rested against his
back as green eyes scanned the room where they soon found the man who
looked like the descriptions he'd got of the Cheiftain of the Rangers.
The man wondered if he should take time to have an ale before going on
with his business but decided against it. Clearing his throat silently,
he waited until the man before him (Adalmund) finished before approaching Aragorn. "My lord," the tall man spoke and bowed, "I am Aedán, son of Artúr,"
he introduced himself and paused shortly "I have come here to take the
Oath of the Rangers. Maybe you know of my father? He was a ranger as
well, but he was killed in an ambush at Fornost fifteen years ago,"
falling silent, he waited for the man before him to answer.</font>


http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s302/pinklilies2007/aedan1.jpg

Beren Camlost
15/Oct/2011, 02:45 AM
http://www.lotrplaza.com/images/ranks/special/Strider.gif
</span>
</font></span> Aragorn quaffed the last sip of Callandil's strong, delicious cider and studied the taproom of the Four Winds with his gray raptor's gaze ; here was comfort and happiness, he couldn't say that about where he was going. His visit to Osdolen was now concluded ; Strider was needed elsewhere, as usual. Two men, one of them familiar, approached his table suddenly and he thought, looking upon them : No, I cannot depart yet ; I am needed for a while longer. Upon their request, Aragornarose and a great royalty was revealed in the Heir of Isildur ; he loomed over the two men, tall as the Sea Kings of old. </font></span>
</font></span> Ancient of days seemed he and yet in the flower of Manhood and wisdom sat on his brow ; a light shown about him, soft and coruscating. I know your face because I knew your father, Aedán, spoke Aragorn at the green-eyed, stubbled man and he touched his shoulder. I wished he was still alive this day to see his only son take the mantle of a warder of the North. He'd be proud of you.He looked at the dark-haired, unshaven reverent counterpart. You have come a long way, friend, Aragorn stated knowingly, the foresight of his kindred swiftly aiding him, and Eriador will be safer because of your valiance. </font></span>
</font></span> He commanded both men to lay right hand over heart. Repeat my words and swear, only if your heart means true. Aragorn spoke and his words poured forth from him like the tintinnabulation of a giant bell 'I am a Ranger of the North. I walk in the dark places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now my watch begins and it shall not end until my death. I am the guardian of the north and I carry that fire that burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains and hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.' </font></span>
</font></span>OOC :</font> I'll RP Beren and Khall in my next post and Aragorn</font></span></font>
</span>








Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rior Laegiel
17/Oct/2011, 02:29 AM
Aedán
Four Winds</font>



"Thank you," Aedán smiled in reply to the man before him, then
he lay his right hand over his heart, he repeated the Oath of the
Rangers, knowing this was the right thing to do. His father would have
wanted him to become a Ranger. Though Artúr hadn't said anything about
it as he wanted his son to choose for himself, Aedán knew that his
father had wished him to follow him and protect the realm of Eriador.
"I am a Ranger of the North. I walk in the dark places no others will
enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now my watch begins
and it shall not end until my death. I am the guardian of the north and I
carry that fire that burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the
mountains and hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the
realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedaind and the
Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days".</font>

Adalmund
17/Oct/2011, 07:06 AM
Aragorn arose and he had such a kingly air that all Adalmund could do while he spoke was to watch him in wonder and listen with as much attention as he could muster. As he spoke to the other man who wished to take the oath(Aedan) Adalmund found himself wishing he could also claim acquaintance with this heir of the kings of old. Then the chieftain turned to him and although he tried not to reveal his feelings, his heart leapt.

"You have come a long way, friend </font></span>and Eriador will be safer because of your valiance." Aragorn said.</font>

"I am honoured my lord." </font>replied Adalmund. He listened to Aragorn's next words and thought to himself my heart is indeed true; true to this man and to anything he would want me to be true to.

So he placed his right hand on his heart and repeated the oath.

</font></font></span>

Beren Camlost
17/Oct/2011, 08:24 PM
http://www.lotrplaza.com/images/ranks/special/Strider.gif
It is done then, he said to both men (Adalmund and Aedán), you are Rangers of the North. I must leave you now but I hope I may live to see you both again. How about you speak to Callandil about what you'd like for breakfast ; he is a veteran Ranger and the owner of the Four Winds tavern here at base. Aragorn cowed his gray-streaked dark hair and with a smile, departed. Stay out of too much trouble, Camlost, Aragorn admonished the staring Beren of Rohan whom he knew, in passing, and stepped out of the Four Winds. The scudding clouds outside were still leaden and lightning-flecked when he mounted his swift brown gelding ; there was a storm coming. At the Gates he spotted a slim, gray-clad man (Rinon) whom he knew from several harrowing encounters. </font>
</font> Captain Thalion, Strider raised his voice, hoping to get the commander of the wall's attention now that he drew close enough to ascertain the identity of the man ; he was familiar to him. Thalion, this man is a Ranger of the North as he claims ; I have been with him before on several adventures, my friend, and he must needs speak with me. I must be on my way, for reasons that are my own, but I do not mind tarrying here for a few more minutes or even longer if necessary if the situation is grim enough that it needs our attention and my supervision. Please open the gates. Through the bars of iron, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, gave Rinon a steady look wondering what portents the dependable man would divulge.</font>
</font>OOC @ ALL ((</font> I was going to remove Aragorn from the gameplay but I will wait until he has finished speaking with Hallas. I will most likely still be having him head off, I'll think about it ; there will be instances when, if there is no SCR recipient for Aragorn, I'd play him sometimes because Aragorn was always traveling, doing great deeds, but I don't want there to be so many months without us seeming him here]. Depending on what Hallas will say, I might have Aragorn create a band to take care of a fell matter and lead it myself as the Heir of Isildur or as Khallador unless someone else who hasn't led anything before but has been here a while like Moriel andTara - and who likes the potential of the story -would enjoy giving command a shot. I would still make a new day at Osdolen, which takes place in the season of autumn, but we could take care of the mission in Paths of Eriador ; I don't think we have a band operating there officially at the moment.</font></font> </font>))</font>
</font>





Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Hallas C. Pehwarin
17/Oct/2011, 09:45 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Odsolen
Main Gate

Rinon then turned his shaggy black and grey flecked fair face to eye a very familiar figure! The person was none other than his beloved Chieftain Aragorn II! Some of his people including Rinon himself knew of his chief alias Strider and that most of the folk of Eriador were unaware that royal line of Elendil or his elder son Isildur's noble line had survived to this day and age. The 62-year old rangers' keen and bright green eyes shown a tiny glimmer silver light in the irises as he heard his true ruler command the gate be opened and so that he could enter the home of his fellow rangers and kin!

~~~~~

</span>Guard of Osdolen
</span>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> son of Eärnor

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol turned his blacked haired head to his right upon hearing a very familiar voice! It was his Chieftain Aragorn or Strider</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>. His chieftain address then his Captain of Wall Thalion, "Captain Thalion, </font>this man is a Ranger of
the North as he claims ; I have been with him before on several
adventures, my friend, and he must needs speak with me. I must be on my
way, for reasons that are my own, but I do not mind tarrying here for a
few more minutes or even longer if necessary if the situation is grim
enough that it needs our attention and my supervision. Please open the
gates." </font></font>Eärnol spoke up his deep bass voice still suspicious, " My Chieftain are you absolutely certain?" "I've been a guard here at Osdolen for 10 years and have never seen him before in my life!" The 55-year old ranger had pretty much roamed the lands that had been long ago been first the great northern kingdom of Arnor. Until third age year of 861; upon which Arnor was broken into three petty kingdoms; Arthedain, Rhudaur, and Cardolan. This due to the dispute by the 10th King </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärendur's three sons.

So did Eärnol defend their ancient cities of </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Annúminas and Fornost during his early tenure as a stout hearted ranger. He'd taken up the current post as one of several guards who now guarded the secret refuge of his long lived race Odsolen to provide protection for the Chieftain when he was in residence though 55-year old northern dúnedain knew full well the prowess of his Chieftain in close combat was unmatched by any mortal Men though probably on par with the Elves of Rivendell. He now waited for the instructions of Captain his right hand gripping the lever to open the gates and admit this long wearied ranger whom had been vouched for by his Chieftain personally! So did Eärnol did as he was bidden and opened the gates allowing this 'ranger' to pass and enter their stronghold. His action would no doubt incur the wrath of his Captain and probably be quashed with quick look of his Chieftain to stay still and forget the matter....

~~~~~

Rinon then urged </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Nóla on and she nickered finally moving with a slow trot and enter Osdolen. The 62-year old ranger dismounted and secured his horse to one of the iron pegs near the front wall of the hidden refuge. With spring in his step did Rinon being still spray for one in the prime years of Númenórean</span> descendant race up the stairs two at time! Upon reaching the top did the 62-year dúnedain's weathered yet fair face break into an enormous grin to reveal his pearly white teeth! Rinon approached his Chieftain flicking his keen and bright green eyes to the guards namely </span>Eärnol who was currently</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> on duty as they all eyed him still with suspicion. Finally did the stout-hearted ranger speak his deep baritone voice cool and formal, " Mellon my fellow kin!" " Long years have passed since we last rode together my Chieftain, eh?" "I've recently refreshed myself in the noble art of healing and my skills in combat to aid our people." " I journeyed swiftly to see you my lord on a matter that requires some delicacy." Rinon now awaited patiently </span>for his Chieftains' response to his short speech regarding his recent actions and the upcoming delicate matter....

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>OOC: Aig since you're playing Aragorn/Strider the matter being is due to a note a sent with my main IC and son Hallas that regards your eventual return to the south kingdom. I also intend to form a new band for others to join our growing ranks as to a name; I was thinking of Guardians of the West. This band might operate either from Fornost or even Amon Sûl / Weathertop to help aid travelers bound for Rivendell or south being the kingdoms of Rohan and our southern kin of Gondor.smileys/smiley11.gif</font>smileys/smiley19.gif


Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Rainelle Hérandil
18/Oct/2011, 07:41 PM
Emeralda
Four Winds

Emma nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, dogs don't like to be kept locked up for long."</font> She agreed. "They like to run around. My dog would go wandering all over the place when she was young, and I had to tie her up sometimes, or she'd wander too far, and I'd have to go look for her." </font>She wondered how her mother was doing with handling the dog. Her mother liked cats more than dogs, but dogs were better for being guardians. And Emma knew her dog would be a good guard dog to her.

She smiled as Dinenol dove into eating his food. She wasn't the type to pick at her food, but she didn't have much of a big appetite. She started on her food, thinking. "I love the forest. And animals."</font> He already knew she liked archery, so no point mentioning that. "I like to help my mother with her herbs, and in the garden.."</font> She commented. She hadn't really thought much about the things she enjoyed doing, and she didn't think anyone had ever asked. She tried to think of all the things she liked to do, but felt like she came up short. Surely there were more things she liked to do besides what she said?

(i thought i already replied to you, Mar. sorry!</font>)</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
22/Oct/2011, 05:24 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>listened to Emeralda as she described her dog, and went on to talk about what she liked doing. When she paused, he took the opportunity to ask, </span></font>"You mean like medicinal herbs? Or do you mean cooking herbs too? I was never one for gardening, really, but I'm familiar with some of the common wild herbs that you can find on the trail. Being out on my own means if I get injured or sick I'm pretty much stuck healing myself. Over the years I've become quite familiar with the particularly common herbs, though I wouldn't say I'm anywhere near being an expert." As he was saying this he was partially wanting to ask her if she wanted to take the hounds for a walk with him, but he didn't want to sound too forward. And he wasn't sure if, being the Archery Master, she ought to stray too far from Osdolen. He preferred taking the hounds a good distance from the fort to ensure that they got plenty of exercise and got the opportunity to chase small critters to keep their skills honed. He had to shake himself mentally back to the conversation at hand so that he heard her reply. Still, the question about whether or not to ask her to join him continued to rest in the back of his mind...</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
23/Oct/2011, 02:44 AM
Emeralda
Four Winds

Emma nodded, confirming his question. "Mostly the medicinal kind, but she grows the cooking kind as well. Actually, many of the cooking herbs are also very useful for medicinal use."</font> She explained. "My mother is a healer, and she grows most of the herbs she needs in her own garden."</font> She smiled a little. "Others, I would usually search the forest for whatever it was, and bring it back to her."</font> She wondered, now that Emma was away being a ranger, what would her mother do if she needed an herb or something that she didn't have?

She finished off her food and looked down at Nienna, smiling. "She's a very pretty dog, by the way. Where did you get her, anyway?"</font> She asked, curious. If she remembered correctly, he had the dog when Emma first met him, a year ago when she and Dinenol both took the ranger's oath on the same day.
</font>

Tarawen
23/Oct/2011, 03:25 AM
http://i531.photobucket.com/albums/dd355/accresce/tarawenic&#111;n5.jpg
The Four Winds</font>

Talk trickled dry at the table until two new faces approached and requested of Aragorn the opportunity to take the oath. Tarawen surveyed both the newcomers and their features, trying to get a read on them. The first (Adalmund), a weathered and worn-looking man, took the oath dictated to him by the Chieftain of the Dunedain of the North. Tara couldn't help but marvel at the strength and power of his words; so much more well-selected and indicative of a ranger's true duties than the words she had spoken--which now seemed quite thin and frail. The second man (Aedán), whose color of choice seemed to be green to match his eyes, also took the oath in a solemn voice.

When he had proclaimed them Rangers of the North, Aragorn looked as if his mind was elsewhere. As if to signal that her interpretation of his look was correct, he announced his departure from Osdolen--to adventure who knew where, Tara thought, but surely to be adventure of a magnificent scale. She had heard much of this Chieftain; though he kept a low profile, his deeds were spoken of highly.

He strode from the Four Winds, stopping only momentarily to exchange a few brief words with a man he called Camlost. Tara's eyes were fixed on his back as he left, ears open for hints as to his next adventure. Hearing the words he had spoken as the oath he required, she felt she would be willing to follow him anywhere and assist him in any venture. Alas, no hint came. As the tavern door creaked shut, Tara turned back to her table. "What adventures are to be found in these northern lands?"

(OOC: I would be happy to try leading a band in Paths of Eriador, and I would also gladly join Hallas's Guardians of the West or a group of Aig's led by Khall/Aragorn. I'll leave it to others to decide what the problem at hand may be, then I'll participate in whatever way seems best for the rangers as a whole.</font>smileys/smiley11.gif)
</font>

Edited by: Tarawen

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
06/Nov/2011, 04:12 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>listened to Emeralda talk of her mother and herbs as he continued to polish off his meal. When she asked about Nienna he chuckled. </span></font>
"She adopted me, you might say." He pushed back his plate, which he had just finished licking clean. "It was when I first arrived here after being gone for many years. You probably remember that day: I was retaking the Ranger's Oath and a group of us were setting out on a mission immediately. While we prepared to leave I decided to make myself some food. I hunted and caught a brace of conies. Brought them back, skinned and gutted them, spiced them up, and stuck them on a spit over a little fire I made in the courtyard. I ate what I could but when I saw Nienna slinking over to me, I couldn't help but share what was left with her. She was just fur and bones then."He gave the dog a loving pat on the head, and Nienna rewarded him with a lick of her coarse tongue. "Anyway, she wasn't about to let me go. Either that, or she liked my cooking better than I did. Though I must say I do make a mighty tasty brace of conies." He chuckled and shrugged. Then he looked at Emeralda. "You know, if you've a fancy to get yourself a pup, there are a few of them at the Kennel."</font>

Adalmund
06/Nov/2011, 07:00 PM
The Four Winds

Aragorn the Chieftain left and Adalmund followed him with his eyes and took the seat that he had vacated, feeling sorry that he had been in his company only for such a short time. Distantly he heard Tarawen say, "What adventures are to be found in these northern lands?" </font>and he became aware of his surroundings again. What adventures indeed! he thought to himself, troubled. Not that he had a problem with adventures, but he had a feeling that he had stepped on a path that was shrouded in mist. Little more than one cycle of the moon back, he had been a knight of Rohan. There had been battle and danger, but there was some stability in it. With his last breath </font></font>Adalmund's father had </font></font>called him Son of Númenor. Aldarion had told his son that he belonged with the Dúnedain and he had urged him to join the Rangers. Soon after Adalmund had set off for the Northern Realm, not knowing what lay ahead. So far he was not unhappy, but doubt and fear and innumerable questions gnawed at him. However, deep down in his heart he knew that his destiny lay ahead in what he currently saw as a mist. When Tara asked about adventures in the northern lands, he could not help but to say, "I wonder!"

With a determined but absent look in his dark grey eyes, he rose from the seat which he had occupied for only a couple of minutes. Aragorn had suggested that he ask Callandil the tavernkeep for breakfast, but although he had travelled far with little rest, Adalmund was not hungry. What he needed was to be alone and think, with perhaps only his grey stallion Erwin to keep him company. "May we meet again." he said good naturedly to those nearby and with that he turned towards the door and left the taproom.
</font></font>

Rainelle Hérandil
09/Nov/2011, 06:09 AM
Emeralda smiled as he said Nienna had adopted him, and she nodded a little as he told how he found her. "I'm glad you did. I do remember that day, as it was the same day I took the oath as well. And, I also remember when I came out of here to join the rest of the group and saw Nienna the first time. She looks so much healthier now."</font> She complimented.

Dinenol mentioned that she could get a pup from the kennel, and she thought about that for a moment. "I don't know."</font> She said thoughtfully. She wasn't sure, she would like to have a dog, but then again, it might not be so convenient as being on her own and such. It was something she would like to think about before she made a decision about it. "I'll consider it, thanks."</font> She said with a warm smile.</font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
09/Nov/2011, 11:30 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
main courtyard

</span>The 62-year old rangers' keen and bright green eyes continued to gaze at his Chieftain with brotherly camaraderie as he still patiently awaited an answer. So did Rinon choose to turn his fair, yet weather-worn face </span>to gaze north toward where Fornost Erain lay then West toward Annúminas ; which also in ruins for now over 2,000 years then finally south in the direction of Gondor! Slowly did the direct descendant of ancient N</span>úmenor lift up his large aquiline nose taking in a deep breath of cool air and decided to choose to sing a short ballad. With his lungs filled to capacity Rinon then sang his deep baritone voice filled with longing to see his wife, his two sons Hallas and Soronto, his daughters Rinen (Stephana) and</span></span> (Leigh) other members his large much extended family.

</span>On the winds of Arda did our race come sailing in 9 great ships! 4 for the high lord Elendil, 3 for his eldest son and heir Isildur and the last 2 for his younger son A</span>nárion. Thus those who the 'faithful' or Elendili still honored the ancient friendship and faith of Eldar were spared Eru's mighty Wrath! Thus did they the now exiles of Númenor</span> found themselves on the shores of Middle Earth! Though separated by many leagues did the proud lord and his sons establish the Realms in Exile Arnor in the North and Gondor in south!

The realms were ruled by Elendil as the High King. Who and his sons were the only survivors of the royal house of Elros. Thus did the kingdoms prosper for many years until their ancient foe showed himself once more threatening his survivors of the drowned isle of the star. War again engulfed Middle Earth but a Great and Last Alliance was formed by Elendil and his colleague Ereinion Gil-galad the High King of the Noldor. His sons accompanied him as their massive army gathered first at the great watch tower of Amon Sûl marched east to stop in Imladris preparing the final preparations for the long conflict!

The great force then marched out three years later heading south finally assailing the dark land of Mordor defeating the Orcs and other dark creatures that were spawned by the Dark Lord </span>Sauron</span>! So after 7 long years with many tragic losses including the loss of Elendil's younger son </span>A</span>nárion by way of a stone that was cast from the dark fortress and keep Barad-dûr itself! Thus the orcs were pushed back to the ashen slopes of the Orodruin itself!

The Dark Lord had finally had enough coming out to face his foes attired in a horrifying suit of spiky black armor, wielding a great mace slaying many of the Eldar and exiled Númenóreans! Thus did he the Dark Lord choose to confront his greatest enemies; Elendil and Ereinion Gil-galad! The fight unfortunately was brief for the dark lord wore his chief weapon being the Ruling Ring! With its power did the Dark Lord lift up Ereinion Gil-galad with one massive hand! The rage and fury of Sauron caused Ereinion Gil-galad to be consumed by a raging sudden outburst of bright fire!

Seeing his friend dead and his body destroyed Elendil tried to avenge his fellow member of royalty attacking Sauron with his kingly sword Narsil! But the Dark Lord swiped his great mace at Elendil striking a mortal blow that caused him to fall and his great sword to shatter into two pieces underneath him! Thus did Isildur managed to crawl over to his fathers' slain form seizing the hilt of his sword and swinging it at Sauron's outstretched hand! It's still sharp edge cleaved through the mailed finger severing it along with the Ruling Ring attached! The Dark Lord howled all mightily before being consumed by a devastating white fire that annihilated his body! His creatures and Orcs now wailed and were easy prey for the surviving forces of the Last Alliance! Victory was claimed but at heavy nearly unbearable cost!

Now again has the Dark Lord managed to return by some Dark Magic or Spell to threaten the last kingdom of exiled Númenóreans! But We, the survivors of Arnor will aid our southern brothers in this long conflict in secret providing our skills to aid those who resist! We are Dúnedain! We stand between the darkness and the white light defending all innocents for freedom, justice, honor, and our valiant Chieftain Strider!


Rinon now red faced and winded from singing his lay now turned to face his Chieftain wondering what he thought of the tale of their people and their long still ongoing struggle against the Shadow of the East.....
</span>






Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Tolkus
13/Nov/2011, 04:06 PM
The WallHearing his name called Thalion looked over the edge of the wall and saw the one he knew calling for him to open the gates. Thalion gave a wave but before opening teh gates he looked over the other side and spied the man wanting entrance to the hidden city. Looking him over and with the recomindation of his chieftan Thalion opened the gates. As the man entered the city Thalion kept a close eye on him.

Uriphel Imrathor
14/Nov/2011, 04:39 PM
http://i308.photobucket.com/albums/kk341/Mystery10/Umbak.jpg
The Wall/Four Winds

His arms swayed, simultaneously, back and forth, as his stilt-like legs seemed to be carrying him from point A to point B; mechanically in motion one leg thrust forward as the other tried, rhythmically, to catch up. But the effects of the shipwreck in his youth had left him with a permanent limp. Umbak plodded heavily down the stone pathway before him. He glanced interchangeably down at his map and at the surrounding woods. The dunedain was in search of the headquarters of his northern kinsman, Osdolen.

Life had become too difficult for him in the land of his birth in recent days. The son of a Southern-Dunedain nobleman and a woman of Umbar, Umbak had always found life in Dol Amorth difficult, but lately they'd become unbearable. Break-ins and assaults upon their small home near the docks had become frequent, and asking the law to assist them was out of the question. The men and women of Dol Amroth had decided they no longer planned on allowing Umbak and Arphazel to remain in their lands. After a band of 5 men had broken into their home and stolen almost anything of value, the two had found themselves cast out into the cold of Pelenor Fields and told to leave Gondor upon pain of death.

So here he was moving ever Northward. He'd thought briefly about stopping in Edoras, but he'd heard tales of the sea in the north and he'd also heard tales of his northern kinsman. They had a man called Aragorn as their chieftain, who was said to be wise and just. Umbak found he much desired to see the lands of his kin, and after much discussion he and Arphazel came to the agreement that they would head north.

Finally! He grunted in pleasure as the stone walls of Osdolen loomed in the distance. He'd left camp early and yet it had still taken him half the day to find the old fortress. But he'd found it at last. Rolling up the map, he stuffed it into a dirty and ragged pocket. Marching to the gate he pounded upon the stone cold metal. It took a bit for the ranger to get the gate open, but at last Umbak found he'd been given admittance into the hall. "I be 'ere t' join up with yer band. Can ye take mi t' speak wif yer leader?" he asked in a gruff yet respectful voice.

The other man (Thalion) led the way and Umbak followed him into a hall where he was led to a table near the back of the room. The man seated before him had to be Aragorn and honestly the stories hadn't done him justice. He smiled broadly and gave a clumsy bow. He'd never been good speaking to the nobles of Dol Amroth, much preferring the company of the dockworkers and fisherman, and now he was discovering he wasn't quite certain what to say to his northern kinsman either. Well there was nothing for it but to press on. "I be Umbak Maldathar mi lor' an' I come t' offer me services t' ye. If ye'll ha' me o' course." His black eyes had been roaming about the room and he couldn't help but add with a huge toothy grin, "Quite a gran' place ye got here."






Edited by: Uriphel

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
19/Nov/2011, 10:42 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>chuckled when Emeralda commented on Nienna. </span></font>"Yeah, she sure is getting fat on her bones. She eats like a pig." He nodded when she said she'd consider getting another pup. "Well, you can let me know any time you want to take a look. I have a coonhound, a Hanover hound, a Basenji, and a Basset hound right now." He looked at her plate and then said, "If you are ready to go, I can walk you to the door in the very least before going back to the Kennel."

OOC - (sorry its so short; I've been low on inspiration and high on RL stress...</font>)
</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
21/Nov/2011, 06:34 AM
Four Winds

Emeralda laughed a little when he said Nienna was fat. "She's not fat." </font>She defended the dog, grinning slightly. She smiled and stood up. "I don't think I will get a dog. I'm fine being solitary. I have been for a while now." </font>She smiled, though and accepted his offer to walk her to the door. "Thank you."</font> She said gratefully. Even though she really didn't need anyone to walk her to the door, it was a gentlemanly act of him which she appreciated.</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
30/Nov/2011, 06:50 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>smiled and shrugged at her defense of Nienna, who was peering up at him with disapproval. Then he rose and held out a hand to her. He fumbled as he placed it behind her elbow, but disguised it by motioning with his other hand to the door. He led her to the door and opened it for her to go first. As they departed the Four Winds, he said, </span></font>"Well, I guess this is where we must needs part... You back to your range, and me to the biggest group of babies I've ever seen." He chuckled at the joke and dropped his hand from her elbow. "I really enjoyed our miniature archery tournament. We ought do it again sometime."</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
01/Dec/2011, 04:02 AM
Outside

Emeralda giggled a little when he called the dogs t</font>he biggest group of babies he'd ever seen. She smiled at him as they left the Four Winds. "Sure, I'd enjoy that."</font> She started to add something about how maybe he could beat her next time, but decided he might not take it so well, and she didn't want to offend him, so she didn't. "I might go look at the dogs, if you don't mind."</font> She said instead. She liked animals, and thought since he'd come over to the archery range, she might go see the kennels.</font>

Beren Camlost
07/Dec/2011, 09:20 AM
<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; "> [/i]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">http://www.lotrplaza.com/images/ranks/special/Strider.gif
[/i]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">
[/i]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">
</font>[/i] He's a good man, Thalion, Aragorn assured </font>Thalion </font>who opened the gates at the command of the Heir of </font>Isildur ; the palm of Strider's hand came to lay over his heart. </font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">You have my thanks. [/i]</font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Strider [/b]smiled as </font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Rinon [/b]sang and the Chief of the Dúnedain embraced him as if he were a brother. </font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Welcome back, Rinon,[/i] <b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Aragorn [/b]</font>spoke to his friend disengaging, how are your sons and daughters faring ? And your wife ?</font>
</font> Standing in the cool drizzling rain,</font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Aragorn</font>[/b]'s gray eyes closed for a moment as he added quietly, </font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">If you've been to her recently. [/i]He knew the ache, the sadness, thinking of his beloved </font>Arwen </font>; it wasn't easy being apart so much from the woman you fiercely love</font>. </font></font>I expect that you have something you wish to ask me ; let us discuss it now, here. We ought to speak over a roast and with a tankard of Tubeng but I am needed somewhere, so we must be brief. I return in a fortnight, Rinon, so I'd be ready at that time to lead any quest that merits my attention.</font>



</font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Hallas : ((</font>[/b] </font>I really like the idea of Guardians of the West ; since we already have bands operating in Fornost within the Deadman's Dike thread, we can have the Guardians of the West outpost be Amon Sûl. This is a good opportunity for the existingAmon Sûlactivity to be revived ; so far only two SCR recipients, Tolkus and Finny, have been active there - thank you, Tolkus ! Always dependable - which is why it hasn't seen a lot of use. I'll be RP'ing Aragorn within the thread and your character Rinon can be his right-hand man. </font>
</font>I'll have Aragorn discuss it with Rinon here, looking forward to your next post ! When we're done talking here and I have Aragorn away, I'll create a new day in Osdolen. I'll also be mentioning the revival of theAmon Sûlthread in The Calling once we're done and get us started up there ; I'll be re-doing the OP so it bears focus on the Guardians of the West protecting travelers southwards and people in need towards Rivendell. Cheers ! </font>))</font></span>
</font>*</font>
</font>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gifhttp://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif
</font>
</font> Khallador took a long pull of his Tubeng, and heard Tarawen wonder aloud about adventuring in the north. Killing trolls - if you're lucky you don't end up in their cookpots - and eliminating trouble on the roads...literally, Khallador grimly answered Tarawen, alluding lastly to striking down ruffians and highwaymen. Keep the Orcs from straying out of the Misty Mountains too much closer east,too, he added, and would have continued but a big man with tanned skin and dark eyes began to speak to him ; he had curly black hair and a toothy grin that made stern Khallador even smile. Umbak, that was the stranger's name, mistook his identity... Beren, who was still sitting across from Moriel, began to chuckle ; Khallador looked so noble and serious that Umbak had thought he was the Heir of Isildur ! Beren's chuckle became a gale of laughter and he smote the table in his mirth ; Umbak's accident had returned Beren back to his usual jocular self and he looked at Tarawen and Moriel to see if the ladies thought this was amusing, too. Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck. </font>
</font> Khallador just rolled his eyes at Cousin Bear and gave his attention to Umbak. I am Khallador, a Ranger of the North, the scruffy, scarred Ranger in green warmly introduced, offering his strong hand for the man to shake. And that giggling handsome guy is my idiot cousin Beren, the newbie. His fair, square-jawed relative who was also a Ranger waved hello with a big grin. We have a cousin, Jaena...she's vastly dissimilar than Beren, intelligent and respectful. Beren's the only annoyance in the family.Now it was Beren's turn to roll his eyes. Strider, the chieftain of the Dúnedain, has just left Osdolen on a secret mission, Khallador explained, but if you're here to take the Oath I have been charged to initiate new Rangers. The lean, hard-muscled Khallador arose. First tell me a little bit about yourself, friend ; how came it a man of the south came so far north ?</font>
</font>





Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Hallas C. Pehwarin
07/Dec/2011, 07:29 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
main courtyard, forward battlement

The 62-year old northern d</span>únedain and veteran ranger listened to his Chieftain speak his voice filled with warm camaraderie and brotherly affection, </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">"Welcome back,[/i]</font> how are your sons and daughters faring ? And your wife ?" Rinon's keen and bright green eyes glittered in late morning as he accepted his fellow D</font></font>únedain's hug with one of his own.</span> The middle aged ranger then felt the dampness of drizzling of rain begin to come down and soak them both!

Then did Rinon speak his deep baritone voice equally cool and filled generous camaraderie, "Many thanks my lord." My two sons</font> Hallas and Soronto are well as far as the news from our southern kin in Gondor have been sent by letter that was delivered by a few trusted couriers and both serving respectively in the kingdom's armed forces; as a Soldier of Minas Tirith and Ranger of Ithilien respectively.</font></font>"" My lovely daughters
Ríne(Stephana), </font>Tauralmie,(Leigh) are all well with the latter trying to expand her own home that lays in the fief of Belfalas near Imrahil's home of Dol Amroth." "As for my loving wife Almaresáre(Marie) she's informed me that my eldest son Hallas has assumed the duties of regent for the family until my return to Gondor."

The valiant middle aged ranger then listened to his Chieftain's quick reply,I " expect that you
have something you wish to ask me ; let us discuss it now, here. We
ought to speak over a roast and with a tankard of Tubeng but I am needed somewhere, so we must be brief. I return in a fortnight, Rinon, so I'd be ready at that time to lead any quest that merits my attention." Rinon nodded his shaggy black and grey haired head in acknowledging the roast and tankard of their rich hearty ale would be better under the current circumstances.But events obviously brought to his beloved Chieftain Strider attention required him to attend to the said matter personally.

The 62-year old veteran ranger was glad to see that his Chieftain noticed that he did indeed have something to discuss and so did choose now to inform his noble and venerable lord, "Aye, my Chieftain I do that is to establish a band to guard the ruins of our ancient watch tower of </font></font>Amon Sûl or known now as Weathertop." "The band that I'll lead will be called the Guardians of the West with your approval." "I'll use my own signet ring to authenticate the letters that I'll send to you on regular basis if possible." Rinon choose to show his Chieftain again his formal signet ring that denoted his rightful lawful rule and 'lordship' of his noble family Pehwarin.

A circular ring of mithril with hexagonal base. Upon which was set of a single emerald blue stone capped with the White Tree of N</span>úmenor in full flower also done in the precious mithril. Upon either side of the</span> hexagonal base were two eight-pointed stars gilded in gold. For it was the most ancient of all of the heirlooms of Pehwarin household forged and crafted on the isle of the star nearly 3,300 years before. But his Chieftain's own personal ring; the Ring of Barahir was far older; being a fine silver band designed in the likeness of two snakes with emerald eyes; one devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers. In the center or top rested a fiery green jewel.</span> </span>The ring originally belonged to the elven family and house of Finarfin. It was made by the Noldor and worn by Finrod Felegund whom gave it the Barahir father of Beren Erchamion as reward for saving the noble elven lord's life during the Dagor Bragollach, (Battle of Sudden Flame." in the 1st Age of Middle Earth.

" In the meantime I'll shall rest here at Osdolen for a few days possibly more to assemble the rangers that wish to join in protecting our people and any travelers that seek the elven sanctuary of Imladris or Rivendell." With that finally said did the 63-year old northern </font></font>d</span>únedain rest and slowly breath in the air of their long lived races hidden abode as he awaited his chieftain's response to his merit of defending the bounds of their lands that was long ago the northern kingdom of Arnor at its height.</span>
</font>



</font>
</font>
OOC: Aig thanks and I look forward to the revamp of Weathertop or Amon </font></span>Sûl because my 'old man' Rinon will defend it and aid all throughout that stretch of Eriador and the former realm of the north kingdom of Arnor.smileys/smiley11.gif</font>





Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Beren Camlost
07/Dec/2011, 09:18 PM
<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; "> [/b]<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">http://www.lotrplaza.com/images/ranks/special/Strider.gif
[/b]
</font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; "> Aragorn </font>[/b]smiled hearing that young </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Hallas [/b]was man of the house while his father was gone. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">When I come into my inheritance, [/i]proposed </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Aragorn [/b]as he touched </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Rinon[/b]'s shoulder, </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">perhaps your eldest boy could give me a tour of your family's[/i] lands. His clan had been prominent since even before the days of </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Elendil[/b]. Their talk quickly drifted into business. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">I see the benefits in this enterprise clearly well, my friend,[/i] </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Strider [/b]promised </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Rinon [/b]after he spoke and the Chieftain committed to memory the sight of the blue and </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">mithril[/i] Ring of the noble House of </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Pehwarin[/b].</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; "> Into your hands shall I commit the guard of Amon Sûl. [/i]<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Aragorn[/b] clasped </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Rinon[/b]'s hand. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Your band, the Guardians of the West, will be stationed at Weatertop, to them I charge the protection of all travelers bound for the south and those in need of the wisdom and sanctuary of Lord Elrond must be seen safely to Rivendell : We know the way. [/i]<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Aragorn[/b] looked into his eyes. </span></font>
</font> When I am King in of the Realm Reunited, Amon Sûl will be rebuilt and I will not forget the leadership of Rinon Pehwarin and the bravery of his companions. Silence reigned between the two men for several moments before Strider spoke again ; the drizzle had thickened now becoming steady rain, his blue mantle was becoming quickly sodden. When I return, he said, I will make haste to Amon Sûl ; I expect to find you there and the Rangers under your command. There will be seldom times when I ride with you and your band ; the majesty of</font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Amon Sûl[/i]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">is broken but its matters to me that the hill be honored still. I will see it done if I can.[/i] Strider released Rinon's hand and smiled. Rest easy, friend, Aragorn advised, and rally to your cause any Rangers you can here. I will see you atop the Hill of the Wind in fourteen days. Take care of yourself, Pehwarin. Aragorn walked past him to take the stone stairs, disappearing in the heavy rain.</span></font>
</font>(( </font>Hallas, thanks so much for helping to lead ! You can have Rinon speak of the band in the Four Winds now ; first though, try to speak to Mar's character and Rill's who are outside I think to see if they would like to become Guardians of the West. I'll let you know today when I'm done fixing the Amon Sûl OP and when I've completed the announcement in The Calling. Let's breathe some life back into that thread ! Cheers !</font> ))</font>
</font>



Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Hallas C. Pehwarin
08/Dec/2011, 01:16 AM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
main courtyard, forward battlement

The veteran ranger and valiant d</span>únedain listened to his Chieftain express his thoughts on the future. </span><i style="">"When I come into my inheritance, [/i]</font></span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">perhaps your eldest boy could give me a tour of your family's[/i] lands</span></font> </span><i style="">" [/i]Rinon then felt his fellow </font></font>d</span>únedain then place his hand upon his shoulder and give a gentle squeeze. The 62-year old spoke up his deep baritone voice filled with equal candor, "Indeed my Chieftain my eldest son Hallas would be delighted to give you a full tour of our family lands given to us by your noble forefather Elendil."

" Perhaps you might also have I and my noble line become Lebennin's regional ruler. " "Since in all of the history of Gondor or our once noble northern kingdom of Arnor no noble family was placed into administrating or ruling that fief. " "The same for could be said of the fief of </span>Anórien, but some said that it fell to the rule Lords of the White City." For the rest of the fiefs have noble lines to rule them; </span>Lossarnach is ruled by Lord Forlong, Belfalas by the Princes of Dol Amroth, Lamedon by Lord Angbor, the Blackroot Vale under the rule of Lord Duinhir, Pinnath Gelin under the leadership of Lord Hirluin the Fair, and lastly the fief of Anfalas or Langstrand under the domain of Lord Golasgil."

Rinon fell quiet after his long speech that was part history lesson. The noble and valiant ranger again listened to his Chieftain speak about his upcoming assignment as the leader of the new band; Guardians of the West. <i style="">"Into your hands shall I commit the guard of Amon Sûl.[/i]</font></span><i style="">Your
band, the Guardians of the West, will be stationed at Weathertop, to
them I charge the protection of all travelers bound for the south and
those in need of the wisdom and sanctuary of Lord Elrond must be seen safely to Rivendell : We know the way." [/i]

The middle aged ranger nodded his black and grey haired head solemnly as his keen and bright green eyes gazed into his fellow</font></font> d</span>únedain weathered face which adopted a fair hue. Rinon's medium shaped ears</span> hidden by his long hair continued to listen to his noble chieftain speak about the upcoming events of the future,</font></font> "When I am King in of the Realm Reunited, Amon Sûl will be rebuilt and I will not forget the leadership of Rinon Pehwarin and the bravery of his companions."

The 63-year old ranger now felt his ranger attire and dark grey cloak being slowly drenched due to the continued drizzle of rain. Rinon listened to his Chieftain's end of his speech that told him to prepare for his arrival at the ruins of ancient Watchtower in 14 days. That he, Rinon should be there with his band as they began their long vigil to guard the ancient site of their fallen kingdom of Arnor and to fulfill their duties to aid all travelers across Eriador. Chieftain Aragorn</font></font> as he prepared to depart gave some solid advice to Rinon, "Rest easy, friend,</span></font> and rally to your cause any Rangers you can here." "</span></font>Take care of yourself, Pehwarin." </font>The noble ranger bowed his head for a moment before meeting his Chieftain's grey eyes with his own green ones. Rinon spoke softly, "I will my lord I rest for a couple days." " During that time I will make several impassioned speeches to gather those who wish to serve our people and protect our ancient holdings." " I bid thee a swift,safe, and successful endeavor." The veteran ranger gave nod of his black and grey haired head and moved off to secure </font></span></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Nóla into the Stables then headed down the ancient torch-lit stone hallway and soon entered the Four Winds.

OOC: Aig you're quite welcome that I chosen to keep up an active role as one of many junior leaders under your leadership as Aragorn/Strider.smileys/smiley11.gif</font>smileys/smiley2.gif

Hallas C. Pehwarin
13/Dec/2011, 04:06 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

The veteran ranger then pulled opened the wooden door of his long lived people's pub. The familiar tavern owned and operated by his fellow former ranger Callandil. So did Rinon Pehwarin strode across the room with firm gait his bearing similar to that of his Chieftain Aragorn II, known to most Rangers as Strider, or in the first Elven language Quenya, Telcontar. The 62-year old northern </span></span>dúnedain</span>'s keen and bright green eyes gazed about the main space of the Four Winds seeing a few of his fellow Rangers; Emeralda Varyanyë;</font> granddaughter of his old comrade Thorondil </font></span></font>Hérandil</font>, Dínenôl Foeslayer</font>,his nephew Hyarion's friend Khallador. "Well soon here I'll give my rallying speech to recruit my fellow kin to my cause to defend Amon Sûl or known now as Weathertop." Rinon then spotted the barkeep Callandil and gave the burly northern dúnedain a nod of curtness before finally stopping at the bar. Taking one of the empty seats the veteran ranger sat down hearing his chain-mail rustle and 'clink'. Letting a sigh escape his pale pink lips did Rinon finally get to rest for a few moments.

His ranger attire was simple and functional. Consisting of </span>a </span>long cotton green shirt, a pair of black suede leather riding pants, and </font>and whose ends were tucked into the tops of his </font> t</span>all
grey leather traveling boots. Over the shirt rested a
tougher
short sleeved suede dark green leather tunic with detachable chain-mail
sleeves secured by thick leather points. The chain-mail's interior was
quilted in soft tan silk to prevent snagging on any of the clothing worn
underneath or exposed skin. Over this inner well crafted and inner
tunic was a sleeveless hard grey leather jerkin that offered moderate
protection while not sacrificing mobility. On its front emblazoned in a
solid black die cast was the crest of his ancient family. The White of Númenor
or Gondor, above which rested two silver 6-pointed and rayed stars.
Surrounding these to noble devices were a pair of outstretched seabird's
wings in full flight also gilded in the same black die cast.</span> Protecting his waist to the
thighs of his muscular legs the 62-year old northern dúnedain wore a suede grey</span>
leather skirt; whose interior hid two more sheets of chain-mail
attached to the skirt by thick leather points and the chain-mails
interior side was quilted in soft tan silk to prevent snagging on any of
the clothing worn underneath.

Rinon wore about his slim and flat stomach his </span>plain brown belt and attached to it were </span>his wooden scabbard wrapped in dark gray leather that crisscrossed down its length.</span>The scabbard was capped with steel locket and an elegant steel chape that matched the conical steel pommel of his </span>dúnedain ranger </span>sword; which was called </span>Alcarmacil (Glorious Sword or blade) that rested inside. On the right side rested</span>
two black leather pouches filled with wealth from his ancient family occasional still sent by either his son Hallas of the Captain of his families remaining House Guard Artamir Farador, herbs for
healing along with several bandages, and a small amount of pipe-weed
from the Shire Long Bottom Leaf.</span> Over all of this concealing
attire rested a long dark grey cotton cloak whose wide hood and interior
side was quilted lightly in forest green leather. At the nape of his
neck rested a polished circular broach. In the center rested a single
silver 6-pointed and rayed star. This was the emblem that denoted all of
the surviving folk of the Dúnedain </span>who served as Rangers of the North and their noble Chieftain.

Rinon could feel the warmth of the room seep into his tall, lean, 6 foot and 4 inch muscular body and slowly dry his some what war-regal Ranger attire. Though some of his fellow rangers that he'd met on the road said that whenever he worn this particular attire that he looked like one of their southern kin. The 62-year veteran ranger did indeed know that his current attire was a bit unusual to be wearing here in the north. But only donned it when he was out of other more northern styled ranger clothing or similar fashioned leather armor with its customary chain-mail attachments! Rinon's deep baritone voice was cool and calm when he addressed Callandil, " Hello old friend its been quite awhile since I was last here." " Things seemed to changed during my long years of wandering across Eriador." "You might not remember me but I'm Rinon Pehwarin." " And I'm a distant kinsman of our noble Chieftain Aragorn or Strider and father to another noteworthy of our long race; Hallas Corintur (C. ) Pehwarin." " I could certain use a good pint of our strong ale Tubeng." The 62-year old ranger opened the 2nd of his</font> </font>two black leather pouches withdrawing a few coppers along with 5 silvers to appease his fellow ranger since he, Rinon had finally returned to Osdolen after over 30 years of service to the inhabitants of Eriador be they Elf, Man, Dwarf or Hobbit.

While he waited patiently for his Tubeng the 62-year old veteran ranger decided to address his fellow rangers seated out across the main room. Rinon then stood and moved out toward a center point within the Four Winds. Taking a deep breath to fill his lungs to capacity did the valiant direct descendant of the 'faithful' </span>Númenóreans speaking his deep baritone voice firm, sincere, and filled with authority as one of several senior commanders under their Chieftain's long rule , " Good day my fellow D</span>únedain of the North. " "I'm </span>Rinon Pehwarin</span> father of the known</span> dúnedain soldier of our southern realm of Gondor </span>Hallas Corintur (C.) Pehwarin</span></span>." "I have journeyed here to </span>Odsolen </span>to request your aid." " For I am forming a new band called the Guardians of the West." " Our noble Chieftain has charged me with guarding the ancient yet ruined watch tower of </span> Amon Sûl or known now as Weathertop." "From there we'll provide aid, assistance, and protection to all who travel across Eriador, and who seek Imladris; Rivendell and the advice of Master Elrond Half-Elven." "Who will join me in this endeavor?" The proud and veteran ranger now turned his fair and weathered face from side to side to look upon the faces of his fellow rangers with his keen and bright green eyes. Who would join him in defending the lands and points of importance that had long ago been their great kingdom of Arnor......</font>


OOC: Any who wish to join please feel free to post here in Odsolen or in the Calling or PM me. I'll consider your offer and make decision promptly either return PM or in character post.smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley2.gif</font>





Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Rior Laegiel
13/Dec/2011, 10:15 PM
Aedán</font>
Four Winds</font>



Aedán, a man in his early forties, had been sitting by one of the tables for a while, drinking almost half of the Tubeng he'd ordered. He'd taken the oath of the rangers just earlier that day but he had yet to find a company to join with but he planned to ask where he could find someplace to get useful after he'd finished the cider. His deep green eyes scanned the pub as he leaned back against the back of the chair. He didn't recognize any of the men or women gathered there, but he was sure his father would have known at least some of them.

When a deep baritone caught his attention, Aedán turned to see to whom the voice belonged. Listening to the man (Rinon), he drank the last of his cider as the man finished. Leaving the table, he approached Rinon. "I, Aedán son of Artúr, will join you in this quest,"</font> he spoke, pausing briefly "it would be an honor to serve with you to protect the lands of Erador and its people and travellers."</font></font></font>






Edited by: Rior Laegiel

Hallas C. Pehwarin
14/Dec/2011, 03:37 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

It did not take long for as soon as Rinon had finished delivering his short yet passionate speech to his fellow Rangers, one came forward. The ranger then spoke his voice firm and resolute, </span>I, Aedán son of Artúr, will join you in this quest," </font></font></font>it would be an honor to serve with you to protect the lands of Erador and its people and travelers." </font>The</font></font></font></font> 62-year old northern dúnedain then turned his weathered, yet fair face toward </span>Aedán. Rinon noticed that his fellow ranger had deep green eyes similar to his own, looked rugged and seasoned from his own certainly travels across Eriador, and wore the typical Ranger styled dress done hues of the forest. So did</font> the valiant direct descendant of the 'faithful' </font></font></font></font></span>Númenóreans and whose family had been</span> Elendili since the before the tragic loss of the isle of the star speak his deep baritone voice warm and respectful, " I, Rinon, son of </font></font></font></font>
Tyelco and rightful lord of ancient family Pehwarin, accept you </span>Aedán son of </font></font></font></font>Artúr</font> into my growing band; The Guardians of the West."</font> With that done Rinon slowly extended his left arm and clapped his hand onto the younger dúnedain's left shoulder giving him a warm smile and turned his head back toward the barkeep Callandil wondering where his pint of </span>Tubeng was....

The band was growing and as soon as he, Rinon mustered at least 8 Rangers, though he would prefer having at 15 including himself they would depart their races' hidden refuge of Osdolen. The band would then head south first for Bree to gather supplies, then head East across the desolate and empty lands of once had been the splintered kingdom of Arthedain toward the weather hills making for the ruined tower of </span>Amon Sûl or known now as Weathertop.....

OOC: Rior welcome aboard! I look forward to reading your posts as your ranger character of </span></font>Aedán</font>smileys/smiley11.gif </font></font></font></font>

Tolkus
23/Dec/2011, 10:44 PM
The WallTolkus made his way throguh the old forest to the secret gates of the hidden city of the Rangers. It had been a while when last he was here but this was a special occation that he had returned. He was delvering a package to someone for a dear friend. At the gate of the walled city Tolkus called out, "May I enter the city Thalion?" In a few moments and a man's head peered over the top of the wall. He looked down at Tolkus and spied him over once or twice then shook his head with rye grin and disappeared. Soon the gates opened and Tolkus made his way into the city of Osdolin.The Four WindsAfter taking the walk about the grounds Tolkus made his way to the Four Winds tavern. He came inside with a package under his arm and as he walked to the bar Tolkus looked about the place as though he was searching for someone in particular. I didn't take too long for Tolkus to find the man he came to see. Taking a detour from the bar he walked over to a table where sat and older man talking to a couple of other people. After the man was free from the other company Tolkus spoke, "My good sir are you Rinon Pehwarin?" Tolkus gave a smile noticing how much he did favor Hallas. "I have a package for you." Tolkus put the parcel on the table.



Edited by: Tolkus

Gilrandir
24/Dec/2011, 05:51 AM
Andriel Gilrandir - PCTallas Gilrandir - NPC
The Wall
Andriel Gilrandirspotted her brother not far from the outer wall of Osdolen. It took her but a moment to reach him. "Tallas!" she shouted, running to meet him.
"Well met, my sister," a tall, lanky young man namedTallas Gilrandirsaid as he embraced her. "It's about time you arrived. I see Mother has finally decided it was time to let you go." Andriel nodded. Tallas asked her how their mother was doing. She told him that their mother was being cared for by one of their neighbors in Archet, but aside from that, all was well back home. The journey to Osdolen had been long and arduous on foot, and it was a real relief to finally see civilization again.
Tallas took Andriel's satchel and slung it over his own shoulder. "Come," he said. "I must introduce you to the others. They usually congregate at the Four Winds." He led her to the stronghold's tavern, where Andriel saw several Rangers either clustered around tables or seated at the bar. Andriel<i style="font-weight: bold; ">[/i]suddenly felt slightly intimidated at the crowd here, but these feelings soon ebbed away as she remembered that her father was once one of them. Tallasgreeted Callandil, the barkeep, and ordered a pint of ale for himself and his sister. Andriel took a moment to scan tavern around her; she could hear small snippets of conversations between the various men (and women, she noticed) that populated the room.
Andrielturned to her brother. "I was told I have to take an oath of loyalty with Aragorn," she said. Tallasnodded casually after taking a long sip of his drink. "Is he still here?" she asked, "Or did I miss him?"
"He's here," Tallassaid. "You just need to look around a bit. You'll recognize him; he's hard to miss." Andriel finished draining her drink before standing to get a better look around.
OOC ((This is my first RP post. I hope I started off okay...</font>))

Hallas C. Pehwarin
27/Dec/2011, 06:51 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds



The 63-year old ranger was then hailed by another of his fellow d</span>únedain (Tolkus).
Rinon nodded his black and grey haired head in acknowledgement. The
fellow ranger spoke while handing him a wrapped parcel. The 63-year old </span>d</span>únedain then spoke his deep baritone voice cordial, "Thank you Ranger." Rinon</font>
then noticed the attached letter then moved over toward the roaring
fire taking one of the empty high back seats. Crossing his long legs the
valiant direct descendant of the 'faithful' </font></span>Númenóreans opened the letter that bore his name. With his keen and bright green eyes did Rinon begin to read the letter.



Dear father,



First off I wish you on behalf of Mother (</span>Almaresáre,Marie),</span>
Ríne(Stephie, or Stephana), Tauralmie(Leigh),and the grand kids; Cuilo(Evan),Almiesáre (Carleigh), Ossa(Brody) and Lemenyo (Quintin) Merry Christmas</font>! We managed to collect a few items and gifts that you'll find useful while tromping around in the lands that were once the great northern kingdom of Arnor still defended by our noble race; the Dúnedain. I also enclosed one of my first forged set of steel daggers for you to use as you see fit. On the bottom of conical steel pommel set inside a black onyx stone is the sigil of our noble family.

With joyful heart as I dutifully manage our families lands until your return,

Regent Hallas Corintur (C.) Pehwarin

</span>Now does Rinon's fair yet weathered face break into a warm fatherly smile at finishing the letter! He then opened the parcel and out of it spilled a variety of items. Including some </span>new rugged ranger styled clothing, a pair of ash-grey woolen cloaks; whose interior lining including the wide
hood were done with soft warm black velvet. The exterior edge of the
whole cloak though was trimmed with soft matching ash-grey leather to
provide extra guard against the fury of winter's freezing temperatures,two leather belts both trimmed in bronze and upon their belt buckles was
again the full crest emblem of their ancient noble family and finally two heavy brown leather pouches that clinked somewhat loudly onto the stone floor along with a fine steel dagger that was of Númenórean design and forged by his own son Hallas</span>! The dagger slipped out of its small wooden scabbard covered in green leather. Whose locket and chape were done with hard burnished black iron, instead of bright steel.

Rinon then crouched forward still seated and picked up the clothing, cloaks and leather belts trimmed in bronze seeing the belt buckles bear the sigil of his noble line that had faithful served with Elendil and his family since before the fall of ancient Númenor</span> setting the gathered articles beside his chair. Then with his right hand fingers outstretched gripped the bronze wire handgrip of the long steel dagger. With his keen and bright green eyes did the 63-year old northern d</span>únedain examine one of his son's first forged daggers or knives.

It was extra long for a steel dagger measuring about 20 inches; 12 of which was a finely steel blade with deep fuller running down the middle before tapering off into a fine sharpened point. The small steel crossguard was curved and twisted with a warrior's flourish and inlaid with a bronze or brass filigree. The handgrip keep next and was fitted with fine bronze wire. The grip was large enough for Rinon to comfortable grip with one hand and wield effectively as short sword if the need arose. Continuing on the long </span>Númenórean designed </span>dagger was completed by simple elegant steel conical pommel.

Rinon then held the dagger with his fingers gripping the bronze wire handgrip firmly. The 63-year old ranger then took in the bottom of the pommel of the dagger seeing how his son managed to inset a black onyx stone and that it carried the crest of their proud ancient line;</span> The White of Númenor
or Gondor, above which rested two silver 6-pointed and rayed stars.
Surrounding these to noble devices were a pair of outstretched seabird's
wings in full flight all gilded in silver. The proud and valiant ranger murmured to himself, "Fine craftsmanship my son." " It will indeed serve me well in the days and years that lay ahead for us Rangers of the North." Rinon then resheathed the </span>Númenórean designed </span>dagger back into i</span>ts small wooden scabbard covered in green leather. Whose locket and
chape were done with hard burnished black iron, instead of bright steel.

With sentimental gesture the veteran ranger lay it on top of the stacked array of clothing, cloaks and belts. Beside the pile of articles given to him by his loving family were two bags of wealth sent to him to aid all who requested or needed aid during these trying times. Rinon looked back toward his fellow </span>d</span>únedain decided to just this one time that he'd like a caring and wise minor lord of ancient N</span>úmenor... With carefree ease did the 63-year place the written letter of his family on top of his newly acquired long steel dagger did old ranger pick up one of the leather pouches containing wealth of his family and decided to buy everyone in the Four Winds a round of </span>Tubeng. Heading toward the bar with steady gait did Rinon's deep baritone voice carry toward Callandil, " Callandil my friend the next round of drinks or meal for all is on me!" With that said Rinon dropped the leather pouch containing part of his families wealth in front of the bartender and former ranger wondering what would be the reaction of his fellow kin as well as that of Callandil!

OOC: To all my 'old man'/Father had an extremely good Christmas and so here is his way of sharing such a great time! Beer, ale or Tubeng for all or if you are in need a good hearty meal that too!smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley2.gif</font>
</font>




Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
29/Dec/2011, 05:21 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Four Winds &gt; Kennel</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol's </span></span></font>eyes widened when Emeralda suggested that maybe she could go visit the hounds after all. He smiled nervously and offered his arm to her again.</span></font>
"Okay," he said, and he led the way. He was eager to show off the hounds, though nervous that she wouldn't like them. Deciding he ought say something to prepare her, he added, "I know you said you used to have a dog and all, and I'm sure you are no stranger to animals, but so many dogs in one place can be a bit... um, overwhelming? I mean, the smell and all?" Nienna cocked her head up at him at that comment, as if to rebuke him for his uncomplimentary comments. Dinenol ignored the look and continued speaking. "The only bathing they do is in streams every so often. I don't waste any rosy water on them, cause they'll just get smelly by the end of the day anyhow. And they... well, they make their messes right in the kennel. I clean it out every day, but with so many hounds it's impossible to keep it clean all the time." They had arrived at the Kennel by the time he finished his little speech, and he hesitated before approaching the rows of cages. "They are noisy, too. The good thing is that they are all in cages. Nothing worse than having so many hounds leaping all over you at once."

He dropped Emeralda's hand and approached the nearest cage, Nienna trotting along at his heels. He reached out and lifted the latch on the cage. Inside was Mother, naturally. She gave him a dubious look as he opened her cage, then she rose up and padded out. The Basset Hound stared at Emeralda a moment before approaching and cautiously sticking out her nose for a proper sniff, as if to check out the specimen the Kennel-master had brought to visit. Dinenol watched anxiously to see what would happen. He knew it was silly, but he felt almost like he wanted Emeralda to approve of Mother. Or perhaps the other way around...
</font>


Edited by: Mar Fireblade Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
06/Jan/2012, 02:36 AM
Emeralda smiled slightly and took his arm once more, though she would have been fine without it. She tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile as he went on about how the kennels weren't very pleasant smelling or anything. "Dinenol, you don't have to warn me about all of that."</font> She said quietly, trying to be polite about it.

She didn't want to seem like she was laughing at him, but she found it slightly amusing that he seemed to think she was some delicate dainty little flower or something. "I know, dogs make messes and bark, and jump and all that. Remember. Before I was a ranger, I was a huntress, not some delicate lady in a palace. I've been to kennels before, I'm used to smells and noises. You don't have to worry about me." </font>

She smiled and stopped as they got to the cage of the basset hound. After he lifted the latch on the cage, she knelt down and held her hand out for the dog to smell. "She's pretty. What do you call her?"</font> She asked quietly as, after giving the dog time to sniff her hand, she slowly reached to pet the dog's head lightly, giving a little scratch behind the ears.

</font>

Beren Camlost
13/Jan/2012, 04:39 AM
<DIV leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="webwizrte">
<DIV leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="webwizrte"><I style="TEXT-ALIGN: left; rgb255: ">http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gifhttp://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif[/I]
<DIV leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="webwizrte">
<DIV>The Four Winds
<DIV>

<DIV> Khallador waited calmly waited for the swarthy man of the far south to repeat the words of the Oath but noticed a tall, lanky man (Tallas) and a girl (Andriel Gilrandir) whose features favored his, probably a cousin or a sister. They both purchased a pint of ale from Callandil and took a seat nearby ; the young lady was taking a look around. Probably recruits or maybe the girl, Beren supposed through a mouth full of bacon comically which almost made even Khallador laugh and the older man gave a nod. He looked back at the man who approached him. I'll return, Umbak, Khallador promised the bearded stranger, swearing an oath is a serious business and so I understand you might like some time to think. Your vow will be unbreakable ; remember that. Khallador moved away, slowly coming towards the maiden (Andriel) and her brother (Tallas). The stubbled and scarred, stony-faced and dark-haired green-eyed Ranger greeted the two younger people, bowling slightly with a hand over his heart.
<DIV>

<DIV> I am Khallador, welcome to the Dúnedain outpost of Osdolen, the Hidden Fortress, he spoke ; his voice surprisingly was fair and quiet which was startling to those who first heard him talk. He was a very rough-featured man. Are any of you seeking recruitment ? Khallador asked. Our Chieftain, Aragorn son of Arathorn whom you might have heard by the name of Strider, commanded me to minister the Oath of Service. He heard Rinon speak, his attention momentarily diverted. I have heard of your courageous boy while I was on duty at Minhiriath, his exploits have even reached the ears of the farmers and woodsmen of that rural land even ; I would like to meet him someday. Name's Khallador, Pehwarin. Khallador offered his strong hand for Rinon to shake in greeting. I'm interested in signing up for the Guardians of the West. Beren lifted a fork to which was attached a flapjack coated with dripping syrup. Count me in, Rinon ! Beren shouted exuberantly. Khallador rolled his eyes. And that would be Beren Camlost, my jolly cousin....
<DIV>

<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">GM UPDATE :
<DIV>

<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Everyone, as soon as Voldemort appears to sign up for
<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Guardians of the West and Rinon has spoken to him and me, as soon as Gilrandir's characters speak
<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">back and one of them take the Oath and hopefully sign up for Guardians,
<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">I'll be creating a new day for
<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Osdolen and the season will be winter, the first month - Narwain - of the new year.
<DIV style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">
Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Hallas C. Pehwarin
13/Jan/2012, 04:33 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

Rinon now turned his weathered yet still fair face away from the bar and Callandil the proprietor of the Four Winds. Another voice that of a seasoned ranger (</span>Khallador</span></font>) now spoke up to more travelers who'd entered the humble establishment that was nestled within the walls of the hidden sanctuary of Osdolen. (Tallas) a fellow Man of the North, a young girl who bore similar features </span>(Andriel Gilrandir)</span></font> who hailed from here in the vast wide region of Eriador and what astonished Rinon thunderously was a Man from the far South and had the look of one the Haradrim!

This very far southern man with a swarthy complexion called himself Umbak Maldathar and he'd wished to become a ranger in the service to his revered and who was the 16th Chieftain of the Dúnedain Aragorn II, son of Arathorn II.</span> So did the 63 year old rand and who was a very very distant kinsman to the Chieftain now narrow his keen and bright green eyes slightly to study this Man of far South..... while continuing to listen to another of his own people (Khallador) administer the Oath of the Rangers to two of the travelers who'd wish to join the ranks of those who defended the length and breath of the North including the lost northern realm of Arnor! "Excellent for our people for we do have need of more hands to wield swords, bows, and spears during these unsettling times." thought Rinon as he continued to wait for Callandil's reply to his intention to buy a round of their hardy ale </span>Tubeng.

His moment of exhilaration was enhanced further with the same weathered and battle hardened ranger came up to him and spoke in hearty tone and extended out his arm and hand for a handshake,</font>"Name's Khallador, Pehwarin.</font></span> </font></span>I
have heard of your courageous boy while I was on duty at </font></span>Minhiriath</font>,
his exploits have even reached the ears of the farmers and woodsmen of
that rural land even ; I would like to meet him someday.</font></span> I'm interested in signing up for the Guardians of the West." </font>Rinon barely had a moment to collect his thoughts on this seasoned northern d</font></font></span>únedain who'd wished to join his growing band when another voice choose to shout out! "</span>Count me in, Rinon !"

The veteran ranger now scanned the crowd for the source of the eager voice when another of his kin (Beren) appeared and was dressed very similar to Khallador. Khallador then choose to offer up his fellow's name and was his cousin, " </font></font></span>And that would be Beren Camlost, my jolly cousin</font></span>." Rinon</font> now motioned with his right hand for Beren to join his kin and fellow family member Khallador. The 63-year old ranger and long extended kinsman to their current Chieftain Aragorn finally speak his deep baritone voice cool and filled with praise and pride, "Ah, Khallador and young Beren I accept you both into my band, The Guardians of the West."

Flicking his keen and bright green eyes upon Khallador Rinon continued with warm paternal tone of gratitude, " I thank you indeed Khallador for your words regarding my eldest son Hallas whom I sure will try and secretly get away from our brothers in arms in Gondor to report of the condition of the South Kingdom to our noble Chieftain Aragorn." " Even though we are all to some tiny degree related to the D</font></font></span>únadan( Aragorn's </span>epsse)." "Even my own bloodline and family are of high </span>Númenórean blood and</span> through its long service I found out our bloodline was mingled with that of the Chieftains' through a female ancestor who'd apparently very very brief relationship with our</span> 6th Chieftain Aragla</span>s."</span> "It would not have been the first time that this has occurred among the survivors of our lost realm of Arnor to preserve the direct bloodline of Elendil ." "For our current Chieftains' own maternal Grandfather </font></font></span>Dírhael was a descendant of the 1st Chieftain </font></font></span>Aranarth."

OOC: Aig and to all rulers I've chose to expand the reason as to how and where my father's line is related to the royal bloodline. Since Tolkien told us that his maternal grandfather Dirheal was a descendant of </span>Aranarth; obviously t an unnamed daughter, though it was not mentioned by Tolkien or annotated by his son Christopher.
~~~~~
One of my aunts is chronicling our long family history and has found out several startling facts!smileys/smiley19.gif This is true for us in RL that we've got on my father's side either a male or female ancestor the who was directly related to the Dukes of Argyll; which is Clan Campbell of Scotland.</font>smileys/smiley19.gif


Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Tolkus
15/Jan/2012, 08:58 PM
The Four WindsAfter handing over the packages Tolkus bowed his head and made to exit the tap room. As he went out the door someone else came in. Wraped in a faded brown cloak with dark shagy hair, a longsword at his side. Weathered stained boots and thick black beard on his chin the man walked over to where Rinon was sitting. He pulled the hair from his face and reviled his grey eyes and he spoke in a soft voice. "Good day to you sir, I am Tamlin and heard you were seeking support for a venture. I offer you mine." Tamlin stood up streght and awaited Rinon's reply.

Rian Eliowen
16/Jan/2012, 03:09 AM
Halbarad The Four Winds

Halbarad had heard on the grapevine that Rinon Pehwarinwas not only shouting a round of drinks in the bar room, but thathe was alsorecruiting to raise a band of rangers to head southto Bree to gather supplies, and then East toward the weather hills making for the ruined tower of Amon Sûl. There were some valiantrangers already signed up for the mission, and being free from other duties himself for the momentHalbarad decided to try and join the expedition.He entered the bar room, greeting old friends and shaking hands as he made his way through the crowded room to speak to Rinon.
"Can you find a place for another old ranger in the Guardians of the West?" he asked with a quiet smile.
"I won't cause any trouble - Scouts honour!"

Hallas C. Pehwarin
16/Jan/2012, 05:57 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

The middle aged ranger was now glad for as soon as he was done speaking with Khallador and accepting him into the Guardians of the West two more of his people came forward where he was seated. One was a weathered ranger called Tamlin and the other was none other than Aragorn's kinsman himself Halbarad! Rinon now adopted a very sincere grin to his weathered fair face. His keen and bright green eyes now gleamed with sheer paternal warmth</font> as he finally spoke his deep baritone was rich and filled valorous tone, " Indeed Ranger Tamlin I accept into the Guardians!" Turning toward Halbarad the 63-year old northern d</span>únedain adopted sly smile as he spoke his baritone voice radiated with good humor at his fellow kindred's remark about Scout's honor,</span> " Halbarad! Glad to see you here of all places!"

Chuckling the veteran ranger continued, "I'm certain that all of the Wandering Companies keep a place open for you should you wish to journey around the lands that were once ours and will be I'm certain in the future will once again be the great northern realm of Arnor." " Refounded with our noble Chieftain becoming its High King which includes Gondor our distant brethren who dwell there." Ah," the 63-year old sighed then continued his explanation, "For I too did serve for a while under the Stewards rule about the same time as Aragorn though at the time I did not know it was him until later since he lived under the name Thorongil( Eagle of the Star, Sindarin)." "Though for the time being you'll belong with me and my newly formed band; the Guardians of the West." Rinon then extended his left hand and forearm and gripped his kindred's in warrior's handshake. "For now though get yourself a pint of </span></span>Tubeng from Callandil." "If he does get over the shock of me providing all a round for everyone here." The veteran ranger then released his hold of his kindred's arm and leaned back into his chair and continued to chuckle glad that his band would soon be ready to depart for their assignment which would be long, possibly perilous, but full of adventure....

OOC: Simply thrilled to sheer excitement to have everyone wishing and wanting to join my newly formed band the Guardians of the West under the leadership of my father Rinon Pehwarin.We'll depart soon from Osdolen for Bree and from there the weather hills toward Weathertop or of old Amon S</font></font>ûl</font>smileys/smiley2.gif</font>
</font></span>

Tarawen
17/Jan/2012, 04:03 AM
http://i531.photobucket.com/albums/dd355/accresce/tarawenic&#111;n5.jpg</font>
The Four Winds</font>

Ask and you shall receive. That's what she had found, though rarely did she ask. Tonight, however, she was caught up amid a stir of conversation that may or may not have had something to do with the round of drinks the ranger Rinon Pehwarin had just ordered for the whole tavern and his talk of a new company of rangers forming. She had never been one to turn down a free drink and open talk, so Tara slid from her seat at the crowded table and approached the deep-voiced man who was displaying his generosity of spirit in the form of, well, spirits.

She found herself surrounded by men. Men of all ages, weathered and young, tall and short, swarthy and bright-eyed. And then--then there were men she knew! "Khall!" she said, her surprise giving way to joy at seeing her comrade once more. She slugged him affectionately on the arm, remembering all that he'd done to keep hers intact. "And Beren!" She grinned at the two cousins, elated that there might be some familiar faces on her next adventure. Tara held up her pint of tubeng, gave a nod to the man called Rinon, and thanked him. "Quite generous of you to give us all a drink and some news to warm and cheer us up!" She drank deeply from the rough mug, then set her drink aside.

"I hear my friends have asked to join up with you and your new company," she continued, eying those who stood around the aged ranger, crowding him in their excitement for some action. "And not a few good men have enlisted." At this she looked around at a particularly weathered man (Halbarad) who seemed to hold himself differently than the others--in a more unobtrusive and yet strong sense. "I can't say I've got the experience or longevity they may have, but I'd like to add some feminine charm--and strength, of course--to the company. If that's acceptable with you, sir."
</font>

Edited by: Tarawen

Gilrandir
17/Jan/2012, 09:06 PM
The Four Winds</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">
[/i]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">I amKhallador, welcome to the Dúnedain outpost of Osdolen, the Hidden Fortress,[/i]he spoke ; his voice surprisingly was fair and quiet which was startling to those who first heard him talk. He was a very rough-featured man. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Are any of you seeking recruitment ?[/i]<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Khallador[/b]asked. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Our Chieftain,Aragornson ofArathornwhom you might have heard by the name ofStrider, commanded me to minister the Oath of Service[/i].</span></font>

Andriel Gilrandirand her brother turned to greet Khallador. "That is what we're here for, sir," Andriel said. She was quite surprised at the Ranger's voice, which did not seem to match his rugged features. "Our father was a Ranger. We wish to honor his memory by offering our services to his comrades here in the North."



Tallas Gilrandir copied Khallador's gesture before he spoke."Our father was Talladan Gilrandir," hesaid. "My name is Tallas, and this is my sister, Andriel."
Andriel bowed her head slightly. Surely, he doesn't mean THE Strider,she thought to herself. The very same tall, dark-haired, ruggedly handsome man who visited their home on occasion whenever he was in Bree when Andriel was only a small child? "Uncle Strider" she would call him...she was fascinated by the stories he and her father would share with them about the North-lands, and was always eager to listen to them. The young woman's gaze shifted around the tavern for only a moment, taking in her surroundings once again. These people certainly seemed friendly enough to trust...they were, after all, friends of her father's at some point in his life. As her attention diverted back to Khallador, she decided this was indeed her place, among a people of honor and comradeship. It seemed only fair to honor her father's memory by taking his place among his own kind.
Andriel smiled eagerly. "When do we take the oath?" she asked.

Edited by: Gilrandir

Hallas C. Pehwarin
17/Jan/2012, 10:55 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

Rinon continued to sit among his fellow rangers and those of varying valiant d</span>únedain blood. The </span>63-year old descendant of high </span>Númenórean blood was surprised and honored more with another ranger and beautiful dame (Tarawen) whom had come into their long live peoples tavern following here two acquainted comrades Khallador and Beren shouting out to the latter in merry delighted tone. Now the lass turned her fair face toward him and spoke her voice cool calm and generous, </span>"Quite generous of you to give us all a drink and some news to warm and cheer us up!" </font>"I hear my friends have asked to join up with you and your new company," </font>"And not a few good men have enlisted." Rinon</font> noted that she'd taken in the fact that their Chieftain's own kinsman Halbarad had chosen to join up on the upcoming expedition.

So did the middle aged ranger continued to listen to beautiful rugged lady speak about here skills.</font> </font>"I
can't say I've got the experience or longevity they may have, but I'd
like to add some feminine charm--and strength, of course--to the
company. If that's acceptable with you, sir." Rinon</font> leaned back in his seat glad to see that while he was busy conversing with his fellow rangers Callandil had silently threaded among those gathered and handed out mugs of </font></font></span></span>Tubeng.

Taking hold of his own ceramic mug in his right hand the 63-year old whom was in the prime of </font></font></font>Númenórean descendant raised it in salute before taking a deep drink to sooth his dry throat and vocal cords. Finally did Rinon speak his deep baritone voice ever respectful to his fellow </span>d</span>únedain. " Ah beautiful lass you're most welcome of my gift that being a stiff pint of our hearty ale, and I hereby accept you into the growing ranks of my band; the Guardians of the West." " It bodes well for the band to have a few fiery feisty ladies included to provide a calmer and domineering presence during battle." " Might I ask your name so that I can commit it to my memory for I do not seem to recall you." " For it has been quite some time since I last set foot inside Odsolen or the Four Winds." The veteran ranger winked one of his keen and bright green eyes at the young lady standing before clad in ranger grab that mimicked the hues of the forest. </span>Again did Rinon take another swing his Tubeng while awaiting his fellow rangers' name and introduction.

OOC: Afternoon Tarawen apologies if my recent portray of my 'old man' is a bit fatherly.smileys/smiley4.gif Since his memory is a little fuzzy since imbibing any alcohol does indeed cloud the mind when drinking a good amount.smileys/smiley13.gifRespond as you see fit to the situation.smileys/smiley11.gif</font>
</font></font>


</span> </font> </span></span>

Beren Camlost
18/Jan/2012, 03:53 PM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gifhttp://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif
<DIV leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="webwizrte">
<DIV>The Four Winds
<DIV>
<DIV>OOC @ Hallas : (( It's okay if the ancestor was a minor relative. Since you're a prominent leader for the Rangers I'll allow it but only have one connection, just this one. We don't want to get in the habit of having too many RP'ers with having bloodline ties to canon characters smileys/smiley11.gif))
<DIV>
<DIV> Khallador laughed, clapping Rinon on the back. Not so secretly, I hope, old man, Khallador replied, we wouldn't want Captain-General Boromirto chargeyoung Hallaswith disertion, being absent without leave for too long. PerhapsDenethor's son or Hallas' commanding officer wouldn't mind if youboy putin a request formerly toserve with us for a season or two.Khallador's attention was diverted when Tarawen slugged his arm. Be careful ! Beren warned Tarawen with a laugh, or somebody will have to stitch his arm up next ! Khallador, trying his best to joke, frowned, wincing as if injured, sulking playfully. Tarawen, you don't know your own strength, Khallador admonished quietly, touching the spot where her first had connected with his limb, I think you bruised me ! Ow ! He was being facietious, of course ; Khallador was a muscular fellow. At the mention of Tarawen's adding her feminine charm Beren glanced disappointly at Moriel, remembering her coolness. Yeah, do that !Camlost beseeched,there seems to be a lack of womanly charm here,Beren told Tarawen with a grin and a wink;the younger, brown-haired mortal lasswas certainly warmer to him than the Elf woman had been!
<DIV>
<DIV> Khallador became serious once more as the maiden he had spoken to answered his introduction. Khallador's smile was soft and sad as she spoke of her fallen parent who had been a Ranger of the North and he listened to the words of her brother. It's a pity I didn't know your father but I'm proud to know the acquaintance of his brave children, Tallas and Andriel. You may take the Oath now ; no time like the present. He clasped each of their shoulders. Afterwards you two finish eating and find yourselves quarters here in the outpost ; rest up for a few days and journey towards the northermost range of the Weather Hills, Andriel and Tallas. There, laying hidden, is the ancient training post of the Dúnedain, Maenorthrond. Its stone structures and practice fields are disclosed from sight in a glen formed where three hills meet. You both must navigate the hills and search a tangled forest there to find the dale of Maenorthrond ; if you're eyes are keen you will discover the signs that will lead you through the paths in the dense wood.
<DIV>
<DIV> Once you pass training, you'll able to join any band you like.Perhaps you'll even meetStrider himself - if you haven't already, he has many names andStrider's quests take him everywhere and so he has met many kinds of people.He smiled. You both have spirit ; he'll like that about you two.Khalladorasked the eager youths to rise to their feet and lay palm over their heart. And he commanded them to repeat his words ; he solemnly spoke, slow andnobly: 'I am a Ranger of the North. I walk in the dark places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now my watch begins and it shall not end until my death. I am the guardian of the North and I carry that fire that burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains and hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.'
<DIV>
<DIV align=center>GM UPDATE :
<DIV align=center>
<DIV align=center>Hallas ask those with you to prepare themselves for the journey to Bree, tell them to meet you at the Gates. When everyone has met you there, lead them away from Osdolen.
<DIV align=center>
<DIV align=center>Gilrandir, your characters may take the Oath now that Khallador is officiating.
<DIV align=center>
<DIV align=center>Once those who will be Guardians of the West are gone with Hallas and if Gilrandir has taken the Oath, I will change the day and season for a fresh start here in Osdolen !
<DIV align=center>
<DIV align=center>
<DIV>
<DIV>

Androthelm Theromal
20/Jan/2012, 09:39 AM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Gallid
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Four Winds
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Gallid swung open the door to the Four Winds and glanced around. He had been told to look for someone named Callendil, who would help him take the Oath and become a Ranger of the North. Since his mother had died in the orc-raid, this had been his one goal. Getting to Osdolen and taking the Oath. At the memory of the Orcs he grimaced, remembering the flames licking their home, and the laughter of the torch-bearers. In his memory a scream cut through the night, the scream that always ended that thought line, his mother's scream. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Gallid spotted a man who fit the description of Callendil his mother had given him, just four nights before she died.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Approaching, Gillad asked Excuse me, I am here to take The Ranger's Oath. I was told to speak to you.Edited by: Androthelm Theromal

Hallas C. Pehwarin
20/Jan/2012, 07:12 PM
NPC~ Rinon (Stephen) Pehwarin~
Ranger of the North, lord of a noble minor Númenórean family, and father of Hallas
C. Pehwarin

Osdolen
The Four Winds

Rinon</font> now looked out across the wide main room that dominated the Four Winds seeing his kindred and people enjoy the round of </font></span></span></span>Tubeng. The 63-year old northern d</font>únedain now let a sigh escape his pale pink lips and his weathered yet still fair face dissolve into an expression of one whom would be mustering some of their own folk to one day leave the north and head for the southern Kingdom and aid their distant and long sundered brethren while at the same time assisting and aiding their rightful lord and Chieftain, Aragorn son of Arathorn whenever he chose or deemed the time right to claim the Kingship of Gondor.

The 63-year old veteran ranger now listened to Khallador speak,</span>"Not so secretly, I hope, old man, </font></span>we wouldn't want Captain-General Boromirto chargeyoung Hallaswith desertion, being absent without leave for too long. PerhapsDenethor's son or Hallas' commanding officer wouldn't mind if youboy putin a request formerly toserve with us for a season or two." At that remark about him being an 'old man' Rinon flashed a sly grin then spoke his deep baritone voice filled with equal candor, " Ah I know my son well Khallador.. He'll do his duty to Gondor first aiding our long sundered brethren in long ongoing struggle against the dark lord since things have been bleak even with our noble chieftain secretly aiding them long ago in 2980 with scoring a major victory against the dreaded Corsairs of Umbar." "For I was among those who sailed with our chieftain even though at that particular time I did not know it was him for he was called Thorongil (Sindarin Eagle of the Star)."

" Ah, " Remembering the events of that particular campaign Rinon</font></font></span> recalled into his mind and decided to recount it for those who not even born, " It was a time of great peril for the south kingdom. The Corsairs had harried the coasts of Lossarnach, my own home and its lands within the fief of Lebennin, Belfalas the Prince of Dol Amroth at the time was Adrahil II father of current one Imrahil and as far west as the fief of Anfalas." " This was of grave concern to Denethor's father Ecthelion II whom was the 24th Ruling Steward." " Who decided that he needed more men if he was going to combat this great evil." " With several men coming down out of the northern lands of Middle Earth did Gondor slowly prepare to contend with the Corsairs."

"So did come our Chieftain come also under guise and with the name of Thorongil entered Ecthelion's service and after a few years managed to persuade the Steward to let him deal with the threat personally." " So did the army of Gondor march south coming to Pelargir and securing a small fleet did battle upon the Sea against the Corsairs driving them back to Umbar. We pursued them all them sinking many of their larger vessels while only sustaining a few tragic losses." "We assailed the Haven itself slaying many Corsairs and our valiant Chieftain managed to slay their leader and Captain upon the main Quay." " After the loss of their leader the Corsairs retreated and we did too falling back to Pelargir."

" Where we prepared to march back to the White City to receive honors and awards." " But our noble leader and Chieftain as Thorongil informed us that he'd be departing us and gave us a message to give to Ecthelion." Rinon paused in his tale choosing to finish his </font></font></span></span></span></span>Tubeng with a mighty gulp. Then did the 63-year old now finish his tale trying to recall the words of his chieftain spoken over 30 years ago. "The words were thus for I was near him when he spoke, " Other tasks now call to me lord</font></font>, and much time and many perils must pass, ere I come again to Gondor, if that be my fate</font>." "So even at that time in 2980 our Chieftain gave the people of Gondor a much needed victory and breathing room that has allowed the southern realm in exile to continue to endure and survive." " Now I feel in my bones that one day I too shall return to Gondor beside our venerable Chieftain."


Rinon shook his black and grey haired head as he willed himself to come back to the present and to where he was being within the Four Winds seated within one of the many chairs that were spread across the tavern. Now did the leader of the Guardians of the West finally chose address his fellow rangers. Standing up to his full height of 6 foot and 4 inches though the 63-year old felt an extra 1/4 of inch taller did veteran warrior first collect his leather traveling pack making certain that his belated Christmas gifts were stored inside. The gifts included;</font> some </span>new rugged
ranger styled clothing, a pair of ash-grey woolen cloaks; whose
interior lining including the wide
hood were done with soft warm black velvet.

The exterior edge of the
whole cloak though was trimmed with soft matching ash-grey leather to
provide extra guard against the fury of winter's freezing
temperatures, two leather belts both trimmed in bronze and upon their
belt buckles was
again the full crest emblem of their ancient noble family and a suede leather sack filled wealth of his family. Lastly did Rinon secure his new</font> fine steel dagger that was of Númenórean design and forged by his own son Hallas to his weathered</span></span> plain brown leather belt</span>. It rested inside</span> a </font>small wooden scabbard covered in green leather. Whose locket and chape
were done with hard burnished black iron, instead of bright steel. Upon the other side of his belt rested his</font> </font></span>dúnedain ranger </span>sword; which was called </span>Alcarmacil (Glorious Sword or blade) that rested inside</span> a wooden scabbard wrapped in dark gray leather that crisscrossed down its length.</span> The scabbard was capped with steel locket and an elegant steel chape that matched the conical steel pommel</span> of the above named sword.

Then did the middle aged ranger speak his deep baritone voice strong and commanding the attention of all as his keen and bright green eyes slowly roamed the interior of the Four Winds common room, " Well my fellow </font>d</font>únedain </span>of the north the time has come for those of us that belong to my new band the Guardians of the West to prepare depart for Bree." " To my Guardians I'll be at the Main Gate astride my rugged </font>rough black haired female horse Nólaquen (Aaron)." The new leader of the Guardians of the West moved across the room at firm pace opening the door </font>Rinon departed the Four Wind</font> stepping out into the dimly light stone corridor.


Odsolen
Courtyard, Stable,
and Main Gate


With those commands or instructions issued Rinon moved down the stone corridor with steady stride. The soles of </font>his </font> t</span>all
grey leather traveling boots striking repeatedly against the weathered grey flagstones. Within minutes he was outside in the main Courtyard and headed for the stables. Once inside the weathered worn structure Rinon spotted Nóla who neighed loudly at upon sighting of her master. The female horse nickered as the 63-year old ranger approached the strap of his burgundy leather pack gripped in his left hand. Rinon stroked her left flank then her mane speaking in good hearty tone, " Ready to get back upon the road my faithful friend /" "For I'm now a leader of band of my people called the Guardians of the West."

Nóla neighed again and reared up for a moment to clatter her hooves upon the straw covered stall. She moved up against the stall's gate to allow here master to fit here first with the blanket then set the two saddle bags, the faded brown/ black leather saddle with stirrups securing it with its leather fasteners and bronze belt buckles. Then did Rinon bring out a smaller beige colored leather pouch loading into it the suede leather bag that contained a modest amount of wealth from his family loading it into the right side saddle bag. The rest did Rinon kept in the burgundy leather traveling pack loading into the left hand one.

Ready the 63-year old ranger whom was in the prime of Númenórean descent</span> lead his strong proud horse outside before mounting her and settling himself into the saddle while feeling a swift cool breeze ruffle his shoulder length black and grey hair and somber ranger attire. The one item he did finally secure was his personal signet ring the denoted him as the rightful lord of his family Pehwarin to a braided grey leather cord placing it over his head and allow into down over his fair weathered face to rest against his slightly thick neck and broad chest. Now did he allow his keen and bright green eyes to see where the Captain of the Wall Thalion was or the guard called Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> ... So to inform him that he and several their kin would be leaving Odsolen for the wilds of Eriador.....


OOC: Thanks Aig for allowing it since that is how it will be from now on.smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley4.gif Now those of my Guardians prepare to depart and meet me here at the gate then we'll depart.</font>

Beren Camlost
21/Jan/2012, 05:14 AM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gifhttp://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gifThe Four Winds</font>
</font> Khallador grinned as Rinon spoke of Aragorn's valiant deeds in the guise of Thorongil ; he already knew most of what he spoke and so Khallador's gaze wandered and so he overheard a man he had never seen before speaking to Callandil who was a little busy with his duties right now.</font>
</font> Rinon, I'll catch up with you, Khallador promised ; Beren, having finished his Tubeng in one long final pull, waved farewell at Moriel and hurried out of the door to get ready. Once after Gilrandir and her brother had replied back [</font>It hasn't happened yet but I don't want anyone to think Khallador is rude *G*</font>], Khallador came to the new recruit (Androthelm). Hello, there, name's Khallador, spoke the rough-featured, dark-haired and soft-spoken green-eyed Ranger.</font>
</font> Strider, our Chieftain Aragorn son of Arathorn, has recently come and gone and before he left, the Heir of Isildur charged me with the honor of officiating the Ranger's Oath. He smiled kindly which seemed, like his voice, at odds with his gruff exterior. All you'd do, if you're as serious as I hope you feel - Khallador looked into his eyes - is lay your right hand over your heart and repeat all that I say. Then I'll speak to you of Maenorthrond, the training grounds of the Dúnedain.</font>

Gilrandir
21/Jan/2012, 06:30 AM
Khalladorasked the eager youths to rise to their feet and lay palm over their heart. And he commanded them to repeat his words ; he solemnly spoke, slow andnobly:'I am a Ranger of the North. I walk in the dark places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now my watch begins and it shall not end until my death. I am the guardian of the North and I carry that fire that burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains and hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.' </font></font><em style="color: rgb0, 102, 51; ">
</font>[/i]Andriel and Tallasstood, placed their hands over their hearts and repeated Khallador's words.</font>
</font>"I am a Ranger of the North," they said in unison. "I walk in the dark places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now my watch begins and it shall not end until my death..."</font>
</font>Andriel resisted the urge to glance at her brother. Judging by the tone in his voice, it sounded as if he had stopped smiling. She kept her eyes on Khallador nonetheless.</font>
</font>"...I pledge my life and honor to the Dunedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days."</font>
</font>Andriel felt her emotions well up inside her. It was done. Father would be very proud...</font>
</font>OOC: ((Sorry about the delay again. RL is kicking my butt, and I haven't been feeling very inspired, hence the really short posts.</font>))</font>





Edited by: Gilrandir

Androthelm Theromal
23/Jan/2012, 07:38 AM
Gallid
The Four Winds

Gallid had scarcely asked his question when, from behind him,came avoice: Hello, there, name's Khallador.
Gallid listened with growing exitement as the ranger told him how he could take the oath then and there, and how all he had to do was hold his hand over his heart and repeat what Khallador said. Gallid had to bite his tongue to stop himself from repeating the ranger's introduction. As his mother had put it, his tongue was sharper than any knife.
I am serious about this oath replied the young traveler I am ready

Beren Camlost
23/Jan/2012, 02:39 PM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif
The Four Winds

The words are spoken, Khallador acknowledgedin quiet pride to young Andriel and Tallas, but what is required is only half-done, my friends. Seek Maenorthrond and complete your training and you will truly be Rangers of the North. Khallador brought his hands together behind his back.

You may come to Osdolen any time you like, Khallador proffered kindly with a smile, so we can get to know you two better. He grinned. Consider it 'on the job training' though once you both have passed the necessary courses at Maenorthrond each of you may adventure abroad with others on quests. Goodfortune to you bothand peace be the journey.

<DIV align=center leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">OOC : Gilrandir (( You may post in the newcycle at Osdolen when I've set up very soon ; it will bea blizzardly - is that a word ? Well it is now *G* - day in the winter, a few months from this point.
<DIV align=center leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">I hope to see you at Maenorthrond when you're able to get there ! ))
<DIV align=center leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE"> I am serious about this oath ; I am ready, the youthful vagabond had responded excitedly. Khallador sensed the man's (Gallid's) willingness ; he exuded confidence and dependability strongly as did many who came here.
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE"> Then I will begin, Khallador spoke and took a breath ; he felt honored that Strider had chosen himto swear in new recruits, he was changing lives. I am a Ranger of the North,intoned Khallador,Ibattle where noothers would dare and beyond me none shall pass.
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE"> Now my watch begins and it will not end until my death. I am the guardian of the North and Iwield that fire which burns against the cold ; I am theguard of the mountains and the eyes of the hills, thewatcher of the forests,the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.'
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Androthelm Theromal
24/Jan/2012, 04:46 AM
I am a Ranger of the North, I battle where no others would dare and beyond me none shall pass, began Gallid. He could hardly believe that he was finally speaking the oath he had waited so long to speak.
<DIV>Now my watche begins, and it will not end until my death. I am the guardian of the North and I wield that fire which burns against the cold. I am the guard of the mountains and the eyes of the hills, the watcher of the forests, the shield of all the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.
<DIV>Now, Gallid learned, it was time tovisit the training grounds, Maenorthrond, and complete his training. Then he would be a true Ranger of the North
<DIV>
<DIV>
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV align=left leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" ="WebWizRTE">

Androthelm Theromal
24/Jan/2012, 05:53 AM
Gallid
The Main Courtyard

Gallid strolled out of the Four Winds. He had no idea where the training grounds might be, but saw no reason not to go looking for them. He spotted an archery range off to one side of the Main Courtyard, and figured it was a good place to start. Unfortunately as he approached, he found that the Archery Range was deserted, all the Rangers were in the Four Winds or somewhere else about this city, tending to their duties.
Ah, Well He said to himself Might as well just wait. I don't have much else to do anyway. So he crouched down, pulled out his an old and battered pipe that he had bought from a hobbit nearly five years previosly, and waited.

!OOC ((Sorry about the double posting, ranked up and forgot what my new icon was,http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/smileys/smiley13.gifshould have checked the name))Edited by: Androthelm Theromal

Beren Camlost
24/Jan/2012, 07:33 AM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif


The Courtyard</font>
</font> Khallador was startled as the new recruit (Gallid) left the Four Winds so swiftly ; he needed to discuss with him what to do next. It was okay though, Khallador knew the excitement the new member felt. The Ranger followed the new Dúnadan to the archery range and smiled as he re-met the stranger who was smoking a pipe now. I was going to tell you what you must do next, my friend ; may I have your name, if you don't mind ?Khallador inquired. Where you need to go now is Maenorthrond</font>http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_images/bullet.png (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=242359&amp;PID=7431875#7431875)(OO C @ Gallid : </font>You can click the bullet to access the RP</font>) which is a few day's travel from this outpost, explained Khallador.</font>
</font> The training facility of the Rangers lays amid the northernmost corner of the Weather Hills ; the grounds and stone buildings where you can test your skills are hidden from sight in a glen where three hills meet, screen by the densely forested area. To reach Maenorthrond you must navigate through the wooded hills to locate the signs that lead through trees to the clearing. Khallador lifted his hand for the man to shake. You are welcome to come back here any time you like so we can get to know you better ; once you've passed training - Khallador grinned - we'll assign you to missions.</font>
</font>OOC @ Androhelm (( </font>You may post in Maenorthrond as soon as you can ; all you must do is RP you're arriving there at the training grounds and read the OP, which is the 'opening post' - the first in the thread - to know what else you must do. Enjoy ! You can back here when I've made the new day and season at Osdolen</font> )).</font>
</font>

Androthelm Theromal
25/Jan/2012, 07:15 AM
Almost as soon as Khallador was done speaking, Gallid responded with a quick Gallid, son of Handir before hurrying off. He sped toward the stables, where he had left his horse. Half an hour later he was ready to leave, with provisions all in bags on the back of his horse. Gallid rode out the main gate, remembering Khallador's instructions on how to find Maenorthrond. Turning North, he rode forward, already imagining the training grounds in his minds eye.

Tarawen
26/Jan/2012, 03:46 AM
http://i531.photobucket.com/albums/dd355/accresce/tarawenic&#111;n5.jpg
The Four Winds -&gt; Stables -&gt; Wall
</font>
"What? Me, hurt Khall?" Tara tried rather unsuccessfully to look innocent. "Nah, he's as solid as a rock. No need to worry about him. And don't mind if I do!" She returned Beren's grin before taking another sip of her tubeng then laughing as Khallador feigned injury after her playful little punch. "Oh, hush," she retorted, grey eyes gleaming happily, standing out against the dark frame of her long, unbraided hair. It was good to be among friends again!

She nodded respectfully as Rinon welcomed her, cheeks flushing a bit when he pointed out that she had forgotten to introduce herself. "Apologies," she said, smiling. "My name is Tarawen. It's no surprise you don't know me; only very recently in the span of a ranger's life did I join up with the good folk here." She listened to him eagerly at first as he began to speak, hoping for some indication as to the road ahead. But as Rinon launched further into reminiscing about his time serving in the South Kingdom, Tara found herself going more and more frequently to her mug of tubeng simply to keep herself occupied. Despite her roots in Gondor, the events he told of had transpired before her time--and then there was that pesky matter of trying to quash the old restlessness that had re-awoken upon her acceptance into the Guardians of the West. She dared not let her longing to be on the move once more show, though, masking it with smiles and nods as Rinon plowed on through his story.

Her ears perked up when Rinon finally declared that "the time has come for those of us that belong to my new band the Guardians of the West to prepare depart." She flew into action, first and foremost draining her mug of tubeng, then gesturing toward the stables as she met eyes with Khallador and Beren. "Time to go!" she piped, cheeks flushed once more, this time in anticipation. She threw her cloak about her, a measure to keep out the slowly deepening cold to be found outside the warmth and welcome of the Four Winds. She waved to Callandil as she left, thanking him for the hospitality. "The tubeng'll definitely be missed in the wild!" she called over her shoulder.

Outside, she padded toward the stables, cloak folded around her, arms crossed beneath it to warm her torso. "Hey, old friend," she said in greeting when she came to Sirdal in the stable. He stamped a bit in response, happy to see her and clearly eager--as Tara was--for something new after so much time tethered in the stall. She noticed that someone had thrown his blanket over him to keep out the cold. "Time for another trip," she said, stroking his nose. Once saddled, Sirdal knew something was afoot and eagerly nosed Tara's shoulder as she secured her packs and supplies to the saddle. "Yes, I know! We're going off into the wild again," she laughed.

After leading her friend and steed out of the stable by his reigns, she mounted and rode to join the company at the Wall.

OOC - No problem, Hallas. Forgive Tara's youthful disregard of the stories of older folk! She's restless and means no harm by it. </font>smileys/smiley3.gifsmileys/smiley1.gif
</font>

Edited by: Tarawen

Beren Camlost
26/Jan/2012, 05:35 PM
</font>And so the Guardians of the West left for Weathertop and time continued on.....</font>
</font>SEVERAL MONTHS LATER :</font>
</font>Rhíw</font>("Winter," Sindarin)</font>
</font>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gifThe Four Winds</font>
</font> At first glance, because of his tall height and muscular build, his stony countenance and since his body was nigh decorated every inch with a thick accumation of ice and white fluff, Khallador resembleda snow troll. Blizzard out there, Khallador rumbled at Callandilwhilst stomping his boots at the welcome mat. You'll probably have to get two of these, friend, Khallador joked with a laugh and quickly crossed the distance to the rest room. I'll go change, he mentioned ; he wore a rucksack packed with a change of clothes.</font>
</font> Could I have something hot, Callandil ? Khallador asked glibly, from just within the small chamber, poking his snowy head out the door. Coffee or cocoa ought to do nicely. Sausages and Bree toast. Khallador looked at Callandil sadly. Don't be so stingy with the sugar, man. He shut the door. It reopened a second later. Do not go out there ! Khallador strongly advised Callandil, pointing backward with his thumb as if to indicated the great stormy outdoors and closed the door again.</font>
</font>*</font>
</font>http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif
</font>The Wall / Guard Tower</font>
</font> I hope anyone threatening picks another day to try something crazy, Beren, wearing a fur coat and warming his hands at the stove, mentioned to no one in particular. Mostly because I hate to go out there and teach him a lesson in this weather.</font>
</font> Captain Thalion had ordered there a watch to be maintained at the Wall despite the raging blizzard though fortunately everyone could monitor the beyond from here within the guard tower ; Thalion was present himself, he was the kind of man who never asked you to do anything he wouldn't.</font>
</font> Though the possibility of an enemy trying to attack Osdolen was nil on a day like this, there was a chance that someone in need might risk their lives to come here.</font>
</font> Clang ! Clang ! Clang !</font>
Beren blinked. He slowly turned his gaze from the warm stove towards the windows. Who could be out there in the white and the gray tempest of snow and ice ? Beren pursed his lips and quickly ran. </font>
</font> Captain, Beren raised his voice despite the fact that he wasn't even a yard away here within the room, I think somebody needs to get outside and fast ! He gestured at the Stranger who had fainted in the maelstrom right outside the gate !</font>
</font>

Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Haflin
26/Jan/2012, 06:56 PM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg

The Wall
Erathor

A sea it seemed to him that he had cross and every league on foot. He couldn't even feel his feet anymore, he was so tired in fact that about the only thing he felt was the biting wind around him. Everything else was tired, strained, and weary. His legs hurt, his back ached and he felt unbearably warm, but every step, he knew, brought him closer to his destination. It was peculiar, he was working his way to this place from some half forgotten shadow of a memory he'd had from his childhood when his father had brought him this way before. He had nearly given into the elements several times on this trek, simply laying at his few camping sites on the road North, devoid of warmth or food, and wondering to himself why he took another step. All he had to go on was a faded memory and even then he had no idea if they would allow him inside or not. Perhaps it would be better to just curl up on some forgotten bank side somewhere and rot, leaving this cruel world behind him.

And yet every time he thought this his feet continued to move ever northwards. Survival wasn't just a proposition to him, it had been ingrained in his mind and heart since he was born. His head was bowed, only every now and then looking up to see the endless horizon of bleak and unforgiving land in front of him. There was nothing to see out here, or at least nothing he wanted to see. He did try his best to keep his eyes open for every time he closed them her image haunted him. Just a fair maiden and a village stead was all he had and all he had ever asked for and the powers that be had decided even that was too good for him. And so he walked, his limbs tired, his left hand gripping the hilt of the sword on his belt, his tattered brown cloak flapping uselessly in the breeze, up hills, through valleys, over plateaus and around cliffs. With each step he felt his spirit fade, with each step he felt his muscles become more and more leaden and numb and yet, faithfully he trudged on.

It had been cold for many a day now and it had only gotten colder the farther he went North. Dark clouds stirred and threatened overhead and already the frost had chilled his bones until he could feel nothing, not even the cold. He would have been worried about this if it hadn't been for the way the tiredness numbed his mind. His feet were like stones and several times he nearly tripped and fell over gnarled roots that stuck out of the hard ground. And now it snowed, the heavens opened up and ice pelted down on him in a rain of white. His breath came in great plumes of visible steam in the chilled air and though his vision was fogged still he pressed forward though it was all he could do to keep upright.

Finally, with breaths coming in gasps and trembling legs, he crested the final hill and saw the great walls of the encampment. It was as bleak and uninviting as the land around it but he had crossed more than a hundred leagues to find it and find it he did. For a moment he stood fixed, unsure whether he was dreaming or perhaps even hallucinating , but after blinking a few times with painfully dry eyes, he determined he was not mad with hunger or exposure quite yet and descended the cliff into the barren fields below. With each step the walls came closer and with each step his labored breaths grew louder in his ears with his trembling heartbeat. He grew dizzy and he saw his vision grey in front of him. Feebly he staggered until he came to the single gate whose doors were closed. Standing in front of it with a shaking hand he formed a fist and pounded on the door as hard as he could bear three times though he was sure the strikes were soft in comparison to others who had not crossed so long a way to present themselves.

As he let his arm down, Erathor felt a curious sense of falling and only as he felt the ground on his face did he realize he had collapsed. Unable to move or to cry out, he lay there in his exhaustion as the storm picked up and the wind battered him, wondering if the darkness would finally grant him the peace of oblivion.

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
02/Feb/2012, 04:37 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Kennel</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>was glad that she seemed confident of herself, and that the smell and noise wouldn't be a bother to her. And she was right, he had to admit. She wasn't the average village lass. She was a warrior, every bit as strong as he. But that didn't stop him from having the urge to treat her every bit like the lady she also was. So it was to his relief when Mother pushed into the gentle scratching that Emeralda was giving. Clearly Mother approved of the stranger. </span></font>"Well... you'll probably think this is real stupid, but... well, I call her Mother. She reminds me of my foster mother. You know, bossy, anxious, always fretting over me, giving me the cold shoulder or a series of rebukes if I do something she doesn't like." He shrugged and chuckled, embarrassed. The name had made perfect sense at the time, but now he was rather wishing he had named the Basset Hound something different.
</font>

Tolkus
03/Feb/2012, 02:22 PM
The WallThalion gave Beren a raised eyebrow after he siad someone should go out there. Then Thalion got up and said, "Well don't everyone move at once." Still with a bit of disgusted look in his eyes Thalion went out into the storm to see what was going on. Opening the gates he found someone lying face down in the snow. Yelling at the top of his lungs to be heard over the howling winds Thalion shouted, "Get out here and give me some help! Now!" He turned his attention to the person and lifted them off the gournd and he spoke into the persons ear, "Hold on, help is here." He put one arm of the person over hs shoulder and slowly draging the person to the guard tower.

Hallas C. Pehwarin
03/Feb/2012, 06:33 PM
Odsolen
Rhíw,(Sindarin Winter)
The Wall

NPC's~Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> and his older brother Ostover, </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>sons of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Turandil (Strong-Friend)
and Mallamir

So did the two brothers clad in their somber ranger attire along with their dark grey cloaks that were for this time of the year trimmed in warm fur and matching soft leather to ward off the biting wind and the constantly blowing snow. They made their way across the wall their steps sinking them in the every present snow leaving behind deep imprints where they'd come from being their tavern; the Four Winds. The winter weather was foul indeed and both sons of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend) continued to head across the snow covered outer wall toward the single tower that was partially built into this small mountain chain that lay within the North Downs. Ostover glanced over toward his brother </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol with his keen and bright cobalt colored eyes motioning with a gloved hand to quickly get inside the tower as he opened the door. But before they'd reached the door Ostover heard the loud clang of the warning bell!

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol looked back toward his older brother as he too heard the clang of the warning bell! A moment later the side door that led into the guard opened and out came the Captain of the Guard Thalion! Who raced past them as swiftly as he could toward the portcullis and opened the gate to their hidden stronghold! </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Ostover waved his hand toward his brother telling him 'let's follow and aid our captain'</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>. Then did both brothers turn about face and head back down the rough hewn slick stone steps toward the portcullis and its opened gate. The wind blew even more fierce as </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol hurried after his brother nearly slipping on a patch of black ice as they headed out of the confines of </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Odsolen to see who'd chosen to arrive in such dismal and ferocious weather!

Ostover now heard a voice yelling, 'Get out here and give me some help! Now!</font>" It was their Captain Thalion's! it a few minutes as both brothers tried to see through the swirling winter winds and blowing snow finally finding him(Thalion) trying to haul in a man whom he'd found! The seasoned Ranger of the North being only 6 years older than his younger brother spoke up and loudly his deep basso voice barely able to be heard over the roaring wind, "We'll assist Cap!" "Eärnol bro help the Thalion by taking our crazy visitor's feet and we'll carry into the tower assuming the rest of the guard was good enough to keep the snow back from around the tower's side door!"

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol moved forward on heavy legs managing to get a hold of the visitor's snow covered boots. So did the party of three head back into Osdolen</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> toward the tower! Another guard appeared and Ostover recognized who it was! It was </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Mallamir! Barking at his fellow ranger Ostover snapped one order even though it should have come from Captain Thalion, "Close the gate now would you Mallamir!' " Then haul your sorry butt back into the tower as we try and help save this poor clueless dumb sod here." The three rangers with their burden continued to head for the Guard tower fighting against the fierce wind that blew through Odsolen's portcullis and front courtyard.

Mallamir huffed and growled back his deep bass voice equally snippy," All right Ostover!" "No need to bite my head off because anyone who does travel in this storm has lost their mind totally."</font> A moment Mallamir took hold of lever that controlled the Main Gate and it rumbled closed sealing off Odsolen from the furious still going Winter blizzard then joined his fellow rangers inside the tower. The visitor was set near the warm fire while everyone wondered what in the whole Middle Earth would cause him to seek the rangers while in the midst of Winter fury.....


OOC: Tolkus my friend I hope I'm not out of bounds here by jumping in and assisting with my fellow NPC guards that I'd created to defend Osdolen. Eager to hear from a wayward visitor as to why he needs to see us</font>.smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley19.gif





Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Haflin
04/Feb/2012, 04:57 AM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg
Erathor
The Wall

His conscious mind had gone beyond all feeling and all thought. Consequentially he was not aware that someone had opened the door, or that they had carried him inside and set him down somewhere. In his mind he was floating in the nothingness that lay between life and death, sensing nothing.

Warmth, that was the first thing he felt, that he was now in a warm place, but he was still so very cold. Briefly he wondered in his addled state whether he was now dead and his spirit was waking to see where it was that spirits go after they have left their mortal bodies. Slowly feeling came back into is fingers and toes though they were still quite numb. Like the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, his thoughts surfaced from unconsciousness and came back into his own being. His breath was very shallow and he strained to hear the whispering voices around him as if they were from far off. Weakly he tried opening his eyes, at first only half successful. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to raise his head from where he sat. His mouth formed silent words that slowly became a weak, rattling whisper. "All gone, all gone..." He croaked, his eyes continuing to flutter open and shut. It was then that his ears finally began to register the low voices around him and this prompted him to open his eyes fully. For half a moment he beheld dark and threatening figures in front of him with a raging fire casting their shadows upon his face.

As he lay there in the light of the fire, they could see him; ragged, torn, he had a few bruises and cuts visible, his clothes, really more like rags, were torn as well and the cloak he wore around his shoulders was heavily ripped near the bottom hems and covered with dirt and mud. His boots were worn and the right one had a hole near where his big toe would be and they were covered with ice, probably frozen to his feet. His hair was wild and unkempt, his face showing that he had not shaved in many a day and frost stuck to it like dusty ice.In his half starved and exposed state, his mind played tricks on him, before him he saw not his saviors but beings of darkness that had haunted his dreams for these past few days and weeks with their snarling faces, their wicked blades and their disgusting, squealing voices. He willed his head to clear so he could see his captors clearly but despite his attempts he was just as foggy from exposure as ever. "North...north." He said in a dry whisper."Find the north...men."The figures moved closer and in his mind he thought this was the end for him.

Leanan Sídhe
07/Feb/2012, 01:11 AM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

The morning had dawned cold and overcast, the clouds heavy with snow. Callandil had stuck his nose outside, had made a mental note to prepare big pans of cocoa, tea and coffee for the men both in the Inn and on the wall and had went back in to stir up the hearth. It had begun snowing soon after, turning into full-blown snow storm, and Callandil was glad he didn't have to go out today. He'd send his son, who was still young and sprightly, to bring coffee to the men on the wall.

A roaring fire was now making the common room of the Inn quite toasty and at the bar sat Callandil, finishing his breakfast when Khallador came in, tracking in the snow in with him. Callandil glared at the man.
"There's a broom in the corner, sweep out the snow when you're changed." He said, a mischievous grin on his face. He picked up a plate and loaded it up with breakfast foods, and filled a cup with steaming coffee, putting it in the bar for Khallador.

"Why would I go out there, I'm not an idiot like you." He retorted, grinning and leaning against the bar.
</font>

Tolkus
16/Feb/2012, 02:39 PM
The WallCaptain Thalion set the man by the fire in the guard house to warm him. He looked to Eranol and said, "Go get something hot to drink and eat for this man. He needent go back out until he has proper rest and food and drink, now go." The order was direct but gentel, for Thalion. He removed the man's cloak and wrapingto get him out of his wet things and expose himmore to the roaring fire and warm him faster. He looked at he man in the eyes and could see him fadeing in and out of conciuosness. "Stay with me now." he said to the man. "Come on talk to me. You're going to be oaky, tell me your name." Thalion tried to get the man to talk to helphim revive faster and to possibly get a clue about him too.

Hallas C. Pehwarin
16/Feb/2012, 03:11 PM
Odsolen

Rhíw,(Sindarin Winter)

The Wall



NPC's~Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> and his older brother Ostover, </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>sons of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend)

and Mallamir



No sooner had the trio of rangers entered the guard tower did Captain Thalion direct them to lay the unconscious man next to the fire to provide warmth and prevent rigor or hypothermia to set in. Eärnol
turned his weathered face toward his superior his bright and keen
charcoal grey colored eyes gleaming faintly in the light of the nearby
roaring fire. The 53-year old northern d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain then acquiesced to the given order and moved across the room toward the set of stone steps that lead to the lower chamber and its side door. Pulling of the hood of woolen dark grey cloak </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol braced himself to the fury of Winter and opened the door shutting quickly behind him and made his way across the snow covered courtyard toward the stone hallway and headed down it toward the Four Winds.</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>


The Four Winds

It did not take long for the seasoned ranger and guard of Osdolen to enter their races humble tavern. </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol made certain that its own door was secure since before during one unkind winter some block head had not secured it properly and a good amount of wind driven snow came in dousing the fire and nearly freezing everyone inside. That ranger had received a sharp tongue lashing from the Chieftain himself along Callandil who owned the Four Winds. Bellying up to the bar counter did the 53-year old ranger lower the cowl or hood of his cloak and speak quickly, "Callandil sorry to bug you but I need something hot to drink for our mysterious visitor whose now recovering in the guard tower." </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol now awaited the hot drink and prayed that he could keep it hot enough during his return trip to the tower even with the storm still going strong outside as his ears continued to hear the wind howling like some long lost spirit of their forefathers, the Edain. </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>

Leanan Sídhe
19/Feb/2012, 03:21 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

The door opened and Eärnol entered with a gust of wind and a little flurry of snow. Callandil sighed, forseeing lots of snow shovelling in his future. He pushed away from the bar and regarded the ranger as he spoke.
"A mysterious visitor? Sounds interesting." He turned, grabbed a large pot and filled it with hot coffee, putting it on a tray and adding several more cups, a little bottle of milk and a covered bowl of sugar.
"Here, for the mysterious visitor and for you and your companions, you look chilled my friend!" He said as he gave the tray over to Eärnol. "Please don't break the crockery." He added with a grin.
</font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
21/Feb/2012, 01:34 AM
Odsolen

Rhíw, (Sindarin Winter)

The Wall
The Four Winds

NPC~Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> young son of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend) and brother to Ostover
Guard of Osdolen

The seasoned ranger now listened to the bar keep Callandil comment on their newly arrived visitor."A mysterious visitor? Sounds interesting." </font></font>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> was pleased to see his urgent errand be fulfilled when the aged northern d</span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain produced a large pot filled with to the brim with coffee dark hot and smelled good! Then adding to a small tray cups, a bottle of milk, and small bowl of sugar. With sly grin Callandil addressed his fellow kindred,</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> "Please don't break the crockery." </font>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> nodded his snowed flecked haired head as his keen and bright ash-grey colored eyes glanced out the narrow window slit to see the storm going strong and the wind blowing huge flakes against the hidden refuge of the surviving dúnedain of the lost kingdom of Arnor.

Now balancing the laden tray in his left hand did </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> head back out of the Four Winds down the frosty stone corridor to the front courtyard. The wind continued to bite into his ranger attire and his lean 6 foot and 5 inch frame as he traversed the slick snow covered stones of the courtyard finally made it back at the the lower section of the guard tower. Quickly the 53-year old ranger now switched the tray to his right hand and opened the door glad to see the howling wind slam it shut behind him. So without further ado did this tireless ranger make his way up the flight of grey flagged stone steps to the upper level.

Once arriving </span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> deposited the tray into a small table near the still roaring fire its warmth helping to bring the rugged handsome d</span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain back enough to address Captain Thalion. With his deep basso voice did the one of several guards of Osdolen speak, " Sir I've returned from the Four Winds with a pot filled with hot fresh coffee, milk, and sugar." </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> quickly filled one cup with the hot coffee adding a small amount of milk and sugar to bring out the rich aroma and flavor of Callandil's excellent coffee then presenting it to their visitor to help aid him in regaining his voice and wits.
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>

Beren Camlost
21/Feb/2012, 03:26 AM
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gifBeren</font>The Wall</font>
</font> Berengravitated near the fire asThalionand the guards helped in the unfortunate soul (Erathor) ; this was an unexpected surprise,Beren, a seasoned adventurer, was intrigued.Eärnol</span>came outside to approach the Four Winds where he could get a hot drink fromCallandilto warm theStranger;Thalionpromised the man he was going to be all right but urged their visitor to reveal his name, to speak so he wouldn't fall become endangered by unconciousness.My name'sBeren, don't mind Bearthough, he introduced himself. May we know where you come from ? 'North' I hear you say... 'find the north men'.... did something evil destroy your town ?The Desolation of Angmar was that way but no one lived there anymore, Carn Dûm which was still a home to a remnant of Orc of that realm, and the icy dangerous wastes of the Forodwaith. Forochel. What's your story ? I'm wondering what has compelled a fellow to journey here in this inclement weather.Berenknelt for a closer inspection of the wanderer, already removing his medic kit off his belt. Beren wasn't so much an accomplished healer as his cousin Khallador and the man was a difficult teacher to work with so Camlost learned mostly from the elleth healer</span></font>Annamíri in Rivendell.</font></span>
</font></span> Captain Thalion has rid some of your sodden clothing, that's good, Beren spoke and he smiled as the warder returned, and Guardsman Eärnol has come back with a steaming beverage for you, also splendid, but we'll need to do something about those cuts and bruises. Eärnol - Beren looked at the tall older Ranger with the ash-colored eyes - could you go to the cupboard and get out some blankets to wrap our friend in, mate ? And see if you can find any clothes that might fit his build, Eärnol ; when he's warm enough, our new friend can go to the room with the chamberpot and change out. Beren reverted his attention back to their Guest. Beren began to remove the man's snow-laden boots, sighing as he noticed that his big toe was caked with ice. Let's hope you don't have frostbite, friend, said Beren gravely.</font></span>
</font></span> Eärnol, how about you go over there - Camlost nodded to a few big jugs of water in the corner that he and several Rangers had got from the Four Winds a day ago in preparation for their watch during this tempest - and bring one of them over here. Beren reached for two pots that were generally used for cooking. We have to cool his feet slowly and then we'll warm each in heated water. Also, while you're getting some of the clothes to lay off on the side and the blankets, how about you get a clean rag for Captain Thalion to thoroughly wipe his feet free of ice and snow while I pour some of the water ?Beren looked sadly at the Stranger whom he knew was listening. This will hurt, Beren mentioned clearly, so I'll need for you to drink a pain remedy. Coriander extract may work ; just a sip is potent enough to numb some of the discomfort. Beren smiled, adding, It tastes like citrus... Camlost opened his healer's kit and plucked out a phial of the orange liquid and once he took out the cork he bid the man to drink before sipping the coffee that Eärnol had brought. I have the juice of vervain to heal your bruises and I can sprinkle sorrel for the cuts. Beren wasn't sure if all he said was coming across well right now but he had to try to get through to him.</font></span>
</font></span>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif
</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
Khallador returned from the restroom and made a beeline to the broom in the corner. I'm hustling, man ! Khallador promised Callandil with a rare laugh. If looks could kill, I would have fallen dead on the spot. That was some glare that Callandil gave him ! Couldn't blame the fellow though, he lived here. Khallador eyed the meal that Callandil had fixed up for him as he swept into the dustpan the snow that had accumulated that was strewn in his wake ; he was impatient to finish this cleaning duty so he could savorCallandil's tasty cooking. An idiot ?! Khallador cried, aloud, as he swept furiously. A friend, I'm here to keep you from feeling so lonely ! Khallador grinned at Callandil. I figure you could use the company, I don't see your boy a lot when I'm over here.Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>entered and Khallador frowned, glancing back at Callandil.</span></font>
</span></font> I guess you want me to shovel this up right ? He had just finished cleaning up after his own mess. Yeah...thought so... on it !He licked his lips at the thought of relishing the bagels which were slavered with strawberry jelly. Khallador quickly began to eliminate the trail of snow flakes, overhearing</span>Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>speak. Something cruel must have sent impelled him to seek our shelter, Khallador thought grimly, keep me posted. If he wants to join the Rangers come and get me, will you ? Afterwards, Khallador finally sat at the table, rubbing his hands together as he marveled at the delectable food that Callandil prepared and the steaming coffee. He drank deeply, carefully first and, following a prolonged noise of contentment, Khallador began to feast on buttered toast and succulent, crispy bacon.</span></font>
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Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Haflin
21/Feb/2012, 06:55 AM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg

Erathor
The Wall

He was curiously not dead yet. That was all Erathor's addled thoughts could dwell on in that moment. His captors had carried him somewhere where there was a fire, but so far they had not come any closer. Slowly, as if he was fading out of a nightmare, his eyes found their ability to focus, if only temporarily and he could at least make out that the surrounding figures were not as he'd imagined orcs or brigands but men, however rough they looked. For a moment he thought they might have found him collapsed somewhere in the wilderness and they had found him, but then he remembered the door and then the darkness. Somebody must have found him and decided to bring him indoors. His very first instinct was to be gracious to whatever hosts he now had, perhaps even apologize for passing out on their front door, but all that came from his mouth no matter how he tried was a grunt of pain that was so sharp it almost made him collapse into darkness again.

A voice brought him back. "Stay with me now."it said, "Come on talk to me. You're going to be okay, tell me your name."A name, the man next to him was asking for a name. His name. What was his name? The provoking thought gave the exhausted man something to cling to as he struggled to move a part of his body. His right hand trembled and then shakily moved under his will to support the arm to move himself slightly. The other arm followed suit and soon enough he was in a sitting position though the action was about all he could muster in his state. Curiously despite the warmth he could still not feel his feet and something inside his mind told him that this was not a good thing. He licked his dry lips with a dry tongue and took as deep of a breath as his lungs would allow and then endeavored to speak clearly to the voice that had prompted him. "My name...Erathor...I am called. You must...excuse my intrusion...and my burden, my need has been...dire as of...late." He said in broken gasps as if the mere effort of talking ailed him.

The scent of something hot hit his nostrils. That was good, at least his nose wasn't frostbitten. It smelled of sugar and maybe milk? Another voice called to him from somewhere nearby. Erathor's mind still worked too slowly for him to make out which voice belonged to which figure but he heard the inquiry clear enough, though his mind took a few seconds to process what had been said. "From...I come from the south...near the Greyflood...came north to find...to find those the men in Bree...call the rangers." Erathor managed to say, a little of the memory of the past weeks slowly coming back to him. "Evil? Yes...much evil...foul they were...hillmen and brigands...took my home...took her...them...all gone, gone." He said pitifully and shook his head limply. "North, I escaped...to Bree land, all day and night...I traveled on foot...to get away...only thing for me...find my father's kin."

After that, Erathor was quiet, with his head bowed. The same voice spoke to him, saying things about his injuries and condition that he could barely comprehend at the time. He knew one thing though, the men around him intended to take care of him and that was such a relief to Erathor that he once again tried to thank them. "I have no money, but...I will repay your...hospitality...when I can." He said, still not aware of the fact that he was in the presence of the people he sought. He was aware enough to realize one of the men had proffered him with some sort of draught that smelled strongly. He took it, whatever it was, thankfully and sipped it. It tasted strongly of acid and fruit and its aroma was strong enough to make the deprived man cough harshly. But after he finished the draught he immediately felt revived somewhat. and attempted to sit up straight and look about him. "You all...have my gratitude...I am in your debt, but please, tell me...tell me where I am...and perhaps I could know...who my saviors are?" He said trying to force a slight smile and looking about him to try to focus on a face he could speak directly to.

Rainelle Hérandil
21/Feb/2012, 09:59 AM
</span></font></span></span></font>Emeralda - </font></font>Kennels
(continued from before)

Emma smiled as she petted the dog and listened to Dinenol telling her its name. She looked up at him, curious about why he'd think that she might think it stupid. "Why should I think it was stupid?"</font> She asked in her gentle voice. She understood exactly what he meant with it. Though it sounded like his foster mother might have been a little unpleasant, she thought the dog seemed very nice. She stood again and smiled. "I think it probably fits her well, and if the name fits well, then there's no reason to be embarrassed about what you named her."</font> She told him, thinking maybe he needed some reassurance.

She glanced up at the sky and realized it was getting a bit late, and remembered a few things she needed to do. "It was nice meeting you, Mother."</font> She said politely, giving the dog a gentle rub on the top of her head. Looking at Dinenol again, she smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I just remembered some things I need to do, and it's getting a bit late. I'll come see the kennels another time, soon."</font> She promised. With a friendly wave goodbye, she headed off to do those things she'd remembered...

</font></font>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~</font></font>
Outer gates
(present time)
Emma had been away for some time, joining bands of rangers and fighting orcs and bandits and other such things, and for a time she had been solo in her travels. At last she was returning to Osdolen for some rest, to hear some news, catch up with friends and possibly join a band or something. She rode her faithful horse, Ellerína. The horse's mane blew in the wind that blew in sharp, icy gusts around her. The cold nipped at her face, which was mostly covered up, and the wind seemed to have a lonesome note in it as it whistled through the mountains, and seemed to try to yank her wraps from her.

Her long blue dress was hidden by the dark green cloak which she wore, along with other wraps to keep out the cold, as it had become rather bitterly cold of late. Her feet were shod in worn leather boots. The hood of her cloak was pulled up, and a scarf was wrapped around her neck, nose and mouth to keep the cold out the best she could. She held the reigns in her gloved hands, and her emerald green eyes watched the northwest carefully as she rode her tired horse along the path. She'd encountered some bad winter weather already on the journey here, and she was on the watch for more.

She crested a hill in the mountain path and saw ahead of her the cavern that was the entrance to her destination, nestled at the base of the tall cliff that towered above her. She was glad to guide her horse inside the cave. There wasn't as much wind here, and she was grateful for that. Dismounting a little stiffly, she shivered a little as she hugged her cloak tighter around her and took the side of Ellerina's bridle in one hand, leading her through the deep cavern. The horse was also glad to be out of the wind, but a little nervous about going into the dark cave. But she trusted Emma, and so she followed with only a little reluctance. It helped that they had been there many times before already, so it didn't take too much persuasion to get the chestnut mare to go up the natural earth and stone stairwell.

Horse and rider came out after a while, now at the top of the cliff that had been towering above them before entering the cave. Emma was met with a sharp blast of wind the moment she came out of the shelter of the stairwell. The force of it made her step back slightly and turn her head away from the strong, icy wind. She narrowed her eyes against it and blinked to clear the involuntary tears caused by the wind blowing in her eyes. Shielding her eyes with one gloved hand, she looked to the northwest and stopped, standing still as she watched a big cloud head toward the cliff. It looked like a blizzard, coming up fast.

She was beginning to know the look of those, and so she swiftly swung herself into the saddle and rode Ellerina toward the gates as fast as she could safely do so. There was a blizzard coming up swiftly, and she knew she had better get to shelter before it hit. She didn't want to miss the walls or something, and be lost in the blizzard. A person could easily freeze to death, wandering around in a blizzard, and it was so easy to get lost in one, when nothing but wind and snow was all around you, so thick you could hardly see a foot in front of you and the winds would come in from all directions. It was too easy to lose your sense of direction.

In fear of this, she hurried Ellerina toward the gates of Osdolen. The gates were in sight when the blizzard caught up with her. It was moving fast, and she urged her horse to go faster, hoping to cover the last 100 feet while she could still see through the driving snow. Halfway across the distance the snow had surrounded her completely and she could hardly see Ellerina's head in front of her. Normally she might have been able to guide her by the direction of the wind on her face, but with it coming from all directions at once, that was impossible.

She slowed Ellerina to a walk and just kept her going in the same direction as she'd been going. She estimated how long it should take her to reach the walls. She should be about 20 feet from it now... 15. 10. 5. She dismounted and led her on another five steps. It was difficult to push her way through the deep snow, and the wind was so strong it nearly knocked Emma down. She hoped she and Ellerina hadn't been diverted from their course. It could be tragic if they were to miss the wall and go on past it. She put her hand out and felt around in all directions, hoping to hit her hand against the wall. Another step, and then she hit her hand on something.

She felt whatever her hand had hit, and found that it was a wall, and she felt relief wash over her. Then she almost had a moment of mild fear as she wasn't sure which direction she needed to go to get to the gate. Right or left? She wasn't sure how much off-course she had gotten, but she'd been heading straight for the gate when she lost sight of it. She couldn't have gone too much to either side. She took a few steps to the left, feeling the wall as she went. When she thought she'd gone too far to have missed the gate, she turned and went the other way. Then she felt the wall change to become a gate, and she was glad. With one hand still holding onto Ellerina's bridle, she used her other hand to pound on the gate as hard as she could, while wondering if anyone could even hear it over the howling, shrieking blizzard winds.

(@ anyone it may concern: Aig said it would be blizzardly, so I thought I'd bring a blizzard. smileys/smiley2.gif and I've recently reread the Little House books, and they had a lot of blizzardly weather, and what I described here was the normal blizzard like they had, which typically lasted about 2-3 days!</font>)
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Hallas C. Pehwarin
23/Feb/2012, 05:38 PM
Odsolen

Rhíw, (Sindarin Winter)

The Wall
The Four Winds

NPC~Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> younger son of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend) and brother to Ostover

The seasoned ranger caught some of their visitor's words as he heard his fellow kin Beren ask him to fetch extra blankets. The younger brother of Ostover nodded his snow flaked hood of dark grey wool and drew it down to reveal his handsome yet weather worn face. He had an half-moon shaped forehead crowned with jet black locks, two bushy matching eyebrows, underneath them rested his keen and bright ash-grey colored eyes, in between them rested his large aquiline nose, a pair of tanned weathered cheeks, a pair of pale pink lips that defined his mouth and ending the casual description of himself a curved chin covered in thick dark black stubble of new beard.

For the facial hair did hide a jagged wick scar obtained unkindly from a band of Orcs and Goblins he and his family had encountered when protecting the ruins of their former kingdom's true capital Annúminas. They'd managed to slay all and preserve their race's first true city since it was built within the life time of Elendil and flourished under his rule of 122 years as the 1st High King of all Dúnedain. But after his death and slow decline of their race the capital had moved to a more central location; being Fornost Erain that located 100 miles north of the village of Bree.

Now Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> shook his dark haired head and willed himself to now to fetch the blankets from the nearby cupboard. With ease did he retrieve the two blankets draping the first over their visitor's upper body while with 2nd landing in the slowly recovering man's lap. Then did the 52-year old ranger finally catch the man's name Erathor and his query if he was among his father's kin; the surviving and slowly dwindling dúnedain of the lost realm of Arnor. Eärnol decided to answer and spoke up his deep baritone voice cool and calm, "Erathor you are indeed among your father's kin the surviving</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> dúnedain of the lost realm of Arnor." " I'm Eärnol </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>son of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend)." Jerking a thumb in the direction of his older brother. " And that big muscular hulk over there with cobalt grey colored eyes is my brother Ostover."

NPC~ Ostover eldest son of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Túrandil (Strong-Friend) and brother of Eärnol

Ostover now moved up upon hearing his brother speak aloud informing their visitor that they were the surviving </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>dúnedain of the lost realm of Arnor then call he, his own brother a muscular hulk! Bristling with mock indignation Ostover spat back, "Hey bro! No need to be calling me a hulk!" " Yeah I'm big and strong but you are just as is too!" The heir to the Túrandil linage now crisscrossed his massive arms and folded them against his broad chest and hoped that Captain Thalion would not be to hard on his brother for revealing that they were dúnedain. But glad that he'd not told he,(Erathor) where was he located currently.

OOC: just a little playful rivalry between brotherssmileys/smiley4.gif I look forward to hearing more about Erathor and how he's related to us Haflin</font>.smileys/smiley11.gif</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>

Rainelle Hérandil
24/Feb/2012, 09:17 PM
Odsolen</font>,
</font>The Four Winds </font>(back room somewhere, behind the counter, then dining area)</font>
NPC Starya</font>
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg

</font>There were a lot of blizzards going on this past several weeks, which meant that Starya couldn't go outside at all, until the blizzard stopped, and then it was either too cold to really go out, or the break between storms didn't last long enough. She wanted to play, and was bored of being cooped up so long. So, the 8½ year old girl had to amuse herself in other ways.

Earlier in the day, she had wandered down to where food stuff was kept in storage, and located several black walnuts, still in the hull. That had given her an idea, and she'd handled these with care and gloves, so not to get any of the stains on her hands. Then, she'd gone off to somewhere that she could work without being disturbed, and spent a while boiling the hulls of the walnuts, the part that stains your hands. Now, the water she'd boiled them in was a deep blackish brown, just the way her mother used to make black dye.

Best of all, she knew that drinking a tea of the walnuts' hull was actually good for you, and not harmful at all. And on top of that, she was actually doing something helpful by taking the hulls off of the walnuts, so the person who wanted to use them wouldn't have to do it and get their hands all stained. All they had to do was crack the shell. That was the best kind of prank. The kind that people couldn't really get too mad about, because you'd done something helpful in the process of setting it up. Plus, there'd be no harm done, and she was actually helping them. Walnut hull tea was good for you.

Now that the stuff was done, she had to proceed with caution, so not to get caught. She'd found an empty coffee pitcher (http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT71ZPr_rd4PNakKnD1jztse5Nu3f07F N6spwQc7xvyiC4oXJ8NeJ52azJa) like what they used in the dining area, or whatever they call the place. She poured the hot black liquid into this, noticing with satisfaction that it looked almost exactly like coffee. Perfect. Now, how to smuggle it in and to smuggle the other one out. She thought for a moment, then smiled as she thought of a plan.

She took a blanket and wrapped it carefully around the pot, </font>in a manner </font>where it wouldn't be likely to spill. Then she got her coat and put her arms in the sleeves and carefully hugged the pot to her chest and wrapped the coat around it to hide that. She had a plan, but she'd have to time it well. She went to the door leading to the kitchen area, and pushed it open just a crack, watching from the barest crack that she could manage to see through, waiting for a good opportunity. She waited until Callandil was busy doing something away from the counter. </font>She looked out the door around the room briefly, as casually as she
could, while she walked, looking to see if anyone had noticed her. She
noticed that only Callandil and Khallador were apparently the only ones
in there, and Khallador was also busy, sweeping up some snow or
something.</font>Then she slipped through the doorway quickly and quietly and walked as casually as she could from the door to get behind the counter.

Once behind the counter, </font>Starya </font>went to where Callandil had left the coffee pot. She was lucky to be short enough that her head came below the level of the counter, so it was really unlikely that anyone would be able to see her. </font>She </font> smirked a little to herself as she slipped the fake coffee pot out from under her coat and unwrapped it from the blanket, which she then wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. She put the pot of fake coffee in the same place where the real coffee had been, and made sure it was arranged exactly the same as she'd found the other one. She quickly moved away and stuck the pot of real coffee on the bottom shelf under the counter somewhere, way back where it'd be unlikely to be spotted or found.

Now, to get out of here. She wasn't sure if anyone had noticed her going through wearing her coat, but she had a plan to explain it. She slipped back out to the dining area, glanced around to see who was there, then slowly walked up to Khallador where he was eating some stuff, and lightly tugged on his sleeve. </font>"Khallador.. can you help me button my coat please?"</font> She asked sweetly. "I wanna go play in the snow!"</font> She said with a bright smile. She knew full well that it was dangerous and would be stupid to go out in a blizzard to play, but </font>most </font>people didn't expect an 8 year old little girl to be that smart, so of course she used that sort of thing to her advantage.

(OOC: Prank alert! in case anyone doesn't feel like reading the whole post... the coffee has been switched with fake stuff!</font>)
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Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Haflin
26/Feb/2012, 08:01 AM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg
Erathor
The Wall

OOC:(And I look forward to telling that story, Hallas)

He was focusing on taking deep and relaxing breathes to clear his mind when one of the rough looking men returned from wherever he went and put a blanket over him which Erathor was thankful for. As his foot was cleared of the ice that had stuck to his boots he found that though they were still quite numb, when he moved his toes, a little pain flared in each of them and that was a good sign. He was not sure what would become of him if he had lost his feet to frostbite. He listened to the man as he spoke in a low voice, probably modified that way for the benefit of his addled but slowly sharpening concentration. Erathor, however, choked a bit and coughed a few times when the man said that he was in the presence of the men he had sought. He quickly looked about himself at the figures and felt a bit dim witted (though he was just a bit at this point) for not having seen it sooner, he was surrounded by the same men from his childhood memories, those rough but noble men who protected the North in secret and were in legend descended from the kings who crossed the sea. Men like his father and his uncle, men that he had at one time wanted nothing more than to be counted amongst...

These thoughts suddenly conflicted his mind, a long time ago he had forsaken his heritage, just as he felt his kin had forsaken him. He had been young and strong willed and had been deeply hurt from loss, he still was if he was honest, and not from the same loss either. An old pain had made him bitter at the world, an outsider, a prodigal son of sorts, but a new pain had driven to seek the only kin he had left. For most of his life he was convinced that if he ran far enough that he could leave his past behind him, cover it and leave it to rot but too late did he learn that fate was not so forgiving. His hopes for a new life went up those weeks ago in a pall of black smoke and red flames.

Erathor, though deep in thought and conflicted internally, continued to listen to the ranger's words about himself and his brother and then laughed at the other man's response. "It is nice to meet both of you. You remind me of my father and his brother who were such good friends as you seem to be." Erathor then sighed "Together they served under their chieftain Arathorn and later his son. Alas, they were both lost long ago and I am all that remains of their line." He finished, his eyes dropping to the floor. Suddenly, his left arm went down to his hip and there found the sheath that had been by his side for as long as he could remember. He loosened the belt that held it and lay the sheathed sword across his lap, his right hand slowly grasping its leather bound hilt and slowly pulling the gleaming blade from its scabbard. "Here is the proof of my story, the sword Telcálë of the Dunedain forged by my forefathers before the fall of Arnor." He said as he held the blade up for them to see. the flickering of the flames was reflected on the edge of the sword and the ruby worked into its pommel sparkled as it caught the red light. After another moment of holding the blade, he once again sheathed in its weathered leather holster and lay it on his lap resignedly. Despite his weariness, his arm felt empowered once again to hold a blade so steeped in history and more worthy than him.

His mind had slowly recovered enough for him to remember clearly what exactly had happened and he immediately wished he had stayed half dead with exposure outside as he recalled the pain of those days long ago. His head bowed and eyes closed, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers to prevent tears from welling there. When he finally looked up, his eyes shimmered with moisture though his face remained unmoved except perhaps for some hidden sorrow which seemed to make him look older, more age worn and weary than he was. He patted the sword's hilt with his hand, looking at the blade and nobody in particular. "My heart used to belong to my family, but they have faded and with them my hope. It used to belong to another, but she has gone from the circles of this world, I hope, in peace and with her my joy. I alone remain. So now it belongs with this sword...and so with the Rangers of the Dunedain." He said, his voice both full of haunted darkness and cold sorrow. Now having made it so far from his once home to the lands of his ancestors,he was finally ready to admit that no matter how pained he might be, it did not change who he was and where he had come from. Perhaps now he could finally be at peace...

Hallas C. Pehwarin
27/Feb/2012, 01:34 PM
Odsolen

Rhíw, (Sindarin Winter)

The Wall

NPC~Mallamir; Guard of Odsolen

The 48-year old northern ranger now squinted his dark grey colored eyes out into swirling still fierce storm. He could not see much beyond the periphery of Odsolen outer wall or the Main Gate. Yet then as he tilted his shaggy dark red haired head downward he noticed someone huddled against the wall! It looked like a woman who wore one of their dark grey cloaks and carrying the identify as a fellow ranger being silver broach clasp that carried a single 6 pointed and rayed silver star. Deciding that he'd admit this woman(Emma). So did he ring the warning bell once and pulling back on the long wooden that controlled the Main Gate did it open just enough for this ranger warrioress to enter the hidden abode of the dúnedain. Now he braced himself for Captain Thalion's wrath....

OOC: Yes I short post but who needs to be freezing their hind end off in a blizzard, eh so get inside Rill and warm up.</font>smileys/smiley11.gif
smileys/smiley4.gif

Rainelle Hérandil
28/Feb/2012, 05:28 AM
Osdolen, Gates
Emeralda

Emma was starting to think that no one could hear her, and kept pounding on the gate door as hard as she could, though she couldn't feel her hand much anymore. Then, to her relief, the door opened a little, though the noise of the blizzard winds drowned out the noise from the bell that was rung. She made sure she was still holding her horse's bridle as she stumbled in through the gates, grateful to whoever opened them for her.

She stopped to think, picturing where things were once you get through the gates. She remembered that there was a tower on the gate wall, which could have people stationed there to stand guard and such, and then there was an outbuilding connected to the wall which served as the stables, near the gate thankfully. She decided to go there to get E</font>llerÍna</font> taken care of first, and put her hand on the wall as she made her way to the stables. She didn't stop until she came up against the wall of the stable, and then she found her way to the door.

Stables
Emma got the door open, which was difficult in all the strong wind. She blew into the stable, along with a lot of wind and snow. She immediately turned and struggled to close the door against the blizzard outside. Finally she got it closed and then it seemed warmer and a bit quieter, though she could still hear the wind howling and shrieking outside, as if it wanted in or was disappointed that she had escaped indoors.

Emma led her horse in a little and then started trying to unbuckle saddle and other tack, but her fingers were too numb and stiff to work right. Starting to shiver some, she jumped up and down slightly to help get her circulation flowing more, and tucked her cold fingers under her arms to help them warm up faster. She really hoped that she hadn't gotten frostbite anywhere.
</font> </font></font></span>



Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
16/Mar/2012, 08:19 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
Kennel</span></span>

</span></font>Dinenol </span></span></font>was at first thinking things were going as well as could be expected, but apparently he had expected too much, for Emeralda hurriedly explained she had forgotten something and had to go, and she was gone in a flash. Dinenol did some quick thinking and couldn't see any reason for her departure, but as he mulled it over -- caring for the hounds as he did so -- he spotted her moving about in a hurry from place to place and realized with great relief that her excuse was just as she said: she had something to do, as all rangers there did...

(present time)
</span></font>Four Winds</span></span></font>

Dinenol came blasting through the door of the Four Winds with a gust of snow. After slamming the door shut he stood shaking and stomping the snow from his boots and outer clothes. Nienna was shaking her shaggy mane, and the two must look rather comical together. Dinenol had closed up the kennels nice and tight and snug, doubling the dogs up so that they could share body-heat. In fact, he reckoned they were about as warm as could be expected. Nienna, of course, had come with him. She was rather chubby round her midsection, and though Dinenol knew that being out in the cold wouldn't actually harm her any more than it would if she wasn't in that condition, he had become more protective than usual when it came to her. It had come on rather slowly, so that he didn't at first notice, but it was very obvious now. Obvious in the way that Nienna moved about or situated herself. Nienna was going to have puppies.

</font></span></font></span></font>http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6145/5964982618_5352840f1b_t.jpg</font></span></font>
Nienna

As her master shivered and moved towards the hearth, Nienna padded through the dining room, her maternal instincts kicking in. Some people thought that dogs weren't that bright unless they were wolfhounds, but Nienna was no ordinary Border Collie. She sensed trouble a mile away, and right now trouble was a matter of a few yards from the door she had just entered through. In this case, the trouble came in the form of the pup Starya. The pup -- child, as the humans called her -- seemed to be rather mischievous, and Nienna felt she was the only proper mother in the whole of Osdolen. And so when she reached Starya, she sat back on her hind end and pawed at Starya's ankles -- with her claws retracted, of course -- and waited for the pup to turn her attention towards Nienna. She wasn't sure what the pup was up to yet, but she intended to find out. She wasn't as daft as most of the grown-two-legged beings around her.</font>
</span></font>



Edited by: Mar Fireblade Mordagnir

Leanan Sídhe
10/Apr/2012, 12:08 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

"Oh no you don't little one, the weather's terrible, you're not going outside." Callandil said when Starya suddenly popped up in the common room of the Four Winds, smiling sweetly and asking Khallador to button up her coat. She was acting entirely too innocent for his tastes. The innkeeper looked down on the little orphan girl with a slight frown. "Did you tell Morwen where you were going or were you planning on sneaking out?"

He and his wife had taken in Starya when she had come wandering into Osdolen a while back, all alone and babbling about having relatives but not knowing who. His wife Morwen had been quite taken with her and had convinced him that an eight-year old girl needed a family to look after her. So Callandil had cleaned out one of the spare rooms and had acquired a little adopted daughter who livened up the place with her presence and teased her surrogate older brothers endlessly. Smart as a whip, she was. Maybe a little too smart.

Callandil bent over and picked Starya up, putting her down on the counter and looked into her eyes with a suspicious smile. She hadn't been with them long, but long enough to know when she was planning something mischievous.

"Now what have you been up to, sweetling?"
</font>



Edited by: Merl Moriestiel

Observer#3
11/Apr/2012, 02:59 PM
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Outside, near the
Wall[/b]

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Hithlond[/b]

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">[/b]

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Hithlond [/b]fought
his way through the blowing blizzard. A vagrant knew how to travel in rough
weather, and Hithlond (a vagrant of the Wild Lands if there ever was one) was
no exception. His cloak was wrapped closely to him, and his head bowed, but his
eyes were alive, darting about looking for drifts, cornices, small streams any obstacle.
One could never be too careful when traveling alone through bad weather.

As a young man having lived in the wild his whole life, he
was no stranger to lonely traveling. However, recently he had an urge to join
something greater. After piecing together clues from many travelers ,he felt he
knew were the secret hideout of the Rangers was, Osdolen. </span></span>Still,
the weather was worsening, but he still couldn’t see any sign of habitation.
Then again, he couldn’t much of anything through the blinding snow. Lack of visibility
was a real killer out in the wastes.

He had visions of roaring fires, dripping roasts and soft couches
as he worked his way around (never through) a rapidly building snowdrift.
Focused on the drift, he didn’t see the wall until he ran into it. The wall was
old, smooth and dry to the touch. Hoping he had found his destination, he called
aloud (hoping to be heard over the blowing snow),



“Hello! Hello, is
anyone up there?<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">”[/i] </span>As Hithlond waited for
an answer, he shivered.

Tolkus
11/Apr/2012, 06:48 PM
The WallHaving been away for a bit due to an injury Thalion was back at his post where he liked it. Raoming the walls on the watch for any who might come to the hidden city. Hearing a call Thalion looked over the walls gate to see who was yelling. He gave the traveler the once over from above, then call down to him, "Who are you!? And what is your business hear!?" The Captian of the Wall Guard waited for the stranger to answer before he would open the gate to allow entry.

Observer#3
12/Apr/2012, 01:24 PM
Hithlond
Outside the Wall

Hithlond looked up, through the blowing snow. Quickly, the wind died down and he heard the voice hailing him from the top of the wall. Figuring he should answer if he didn't want to freeze to death he called back up,

"My name is Hithlond, from the Outer Wastes! Maybe you've heard of me?" Of course the man (Thalion) did not. Wandering aimless around the Long Lands is not a way to make a name or yourself, and being a scraggly looking wanderer didn't really improve things. Still, he hoped they'd let him in. Hithlond went on,

"I seek the Rangers! Do they dwell here?"




Edited by: Observer#3

Tolkus
13/Apr/2012, 01:02 PM
The WallHearing the man call forth his name and ask if he, Thalion, had heard of him caused the Captain to offer awry smile and slight chuckle. Thalion thought to himself, "A Ranger in deed." and laughed to himslef again. He then gave a motion to the men below by the gate and the great gate was raised and the doors opened. Thalion called down to Hithlond, "Go yonder to the Four Winds. You will find what you seek there." as he pointed to the tavern.



Edited by: Tolkus

Beren Camlost
28/Apr/2012, 02:55 AM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Khalladorlaughed asStaryaexcitedly informed him she wanted to play in the snow.Callandil's right, girl ! Are you insane, cutie ?Khalladorchuckled, patting the top of adorableStarya's brown hair.You'll freeze yourself so bad you'll look like an icicle ! I won't button your coat but I'll help it off your shoulders, sweet pea ; you're here for a while, don't want you out in that storm. You can have some of my food, if you like, if you want to fill your tummy, little angel.Khalladorhelped the child out of her coat, smiling tightly as he heardCallandilmention his wife,Morwen;Khalladorhadn't a wife, it was moments like this he felt rather lonely in the world and wondered if any woman would ever love someone like him. Get some more of this coffee,Khalladormumbled to himself, wanting a distraction from his gloomy thoughts. He poured himself a new glass and waved atDinenolwho entered.</font>
</font> Want a drink ?he asked, raising the pitcher as he offered the kennel-master. Khallador began his long pull of the beverage, closing his green eyes before the liquid even touched his mouth, anticipating his delight of Callandil's coffee....but something wasn't quite right with it. He reopened his eyes and parted his lips from the cup ; he grimaced and stared at the peculiar drink in astonishment. Callandil, your coffee tastes weird, my friend, he divulged with some hesitance ; you didn't just say things like that to a pubkeep in his establishment. I've apologized about getting snow all over your floor so why the trick ? he looked at Callandil incredulously, perplexed that the publican would tamper with his order just to show how displeased he was. A glare and the 'stupid' remark should have been it, Gandalf's beard !</font>
</font>http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gifBeren</font>The Wall</font><br ="apple-interchange-newline"=""></font> Beren was moved by Erathor's story and his brow furrowed when the survivor spoke of his lost love. This is an injustice. I would not allow these outlaws and savages to remain free to molest others, Camlost uttered, his strong hand curling into a fist, I say we track down these vermin who wrested your sweetheart from you and took your home. The Greyflood, you say ? He bent to clutch Erathor's shoulder. The Rangers of Sarn Ford are the nearest band operating in those parts ; when the spring comes, how about we pay the base a visit and make a quest out of this ?</font>
</font> He released his grip on Erathor and gestured at the man's sword,<em style="font-size: small; ">Telcálë. You have a blade but what will you do with it ?</font>[/i]Become a Ranger of the North, Erathor, and put that to good use as your father and brother would have wanted. Your family is gone but they have not faded as long as you honor their memory. Protect the innocent and meek so that they won't lose as much as you have, Erathor ; you have no more hope but you can keep alive that of others if you take a stand for those who are too small and weak to defend themselves.</font>
</span>OOC @ Hallas and Haflin : ((</span> I say we should wrap up what's presently going on at Watchers of Sarn Ford - I'll help ; sorry I haven't been active there in a while, there's just so much to RP/GM and I've had schoolwork and I've been sick, et cetera - and start a new day that takes place a few weeks later so that way Haflin can come down and we can hunt the brigands and hill-men who were messing around near the Greyflood </font>))</span>
</font>The Stables</font>NPC Roadan</font>
</font> Son, why are you standing there gawking at the miss ? Roadan, Samion's old uncle, admonished the boy ; his nephew was staring disbelievingly at Emeralda who the blizzard pushed coldly inside the stables. Roadan was a tall and blue-eyed, square-jawed man in his late seventies ; his thinning hair was white and parted, he wore a long dark-green longcoat and scarf. He was the senior groomsman at the stables and lived in the city, taking care of young Sam ; he used to be a chipper man but the death of his nephew's parents had wounded him deeply and little Alorah, Sam's five year-old sister, was unaccounted for which accentuated his depression ; he had become a sullen and irritable man.</font>
</font> Em, this inconsiderate fella here is me nephew, Samion, Roadan introduced from within one stall he was mending, slamming down his hammer to force in a nail. He's old enough now to help me out here in the stables ; can't have a lad growing up without knowing what hard work is, know what I mean, lass ? Sam, this is Emeralda, a Ranger of the North. He cleared his throat and ordered, waving his hammer at the boy, Now you see to her horse, Uncle Roadanand get the lady a blanket so she can warm up or I'll give you a wallop, whippersnapper ! He angrily returned to work but in his haste he ended up injuring his finger with the tool and, hurting, cried aloud and sucked at the smarting digit.</font>
</font></font>











Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
28/Apr/2012, 06:26 AM
Starya
Four Winds
</font>http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Starya giggled a little at Khallador, but shook her head vigorously when he offered to help her take her coat off. "Nooooo!" She protested, giggling a little. She didn't protest when Callandil put her up on the counter though. Rather, she was glad for it, because it helped her out in the last stages of her.. mission? Whatever you'd call it, she wasn't sure. But she quietly felt around behind her for the sugar shaker that she knew was right behind her. Luckily, it was very unlikely that Callandil or Khallador would see what her hands were doing, but she was working quickly to get it done, trying to keep any of the grown ups from seeing what she was doing...

And.. done! Starya had barely managed to switch the sugar shakers without making a sound. She'd had an extra one hidden up her sleeve, waiting for the right moment. And that moment came when Callandil put her up on the counter. She kept her hands out of his line of sight while she switched the sugar shakers out. The only difference in the one she had switched with the one that had been there, was that the one she had had been filled with salt instead of sugar.

While she was still feeling a little rush of excitement over her accomplishment(not only had she switched the coffee with something else, but she'd switched the sugar with salt too!), she realized that Callandil had asked her if she had told Morwen she was leaving, or if she planned to sneak out. "Um.." She said, stalling a bit. Well of course she'd been going to sneak out, but she wasn't telling him that! Just then she spotted Dinenol coming in with Nienna. Saved! "Nienna!" She cheered excitedly, hopping down from the counter and throwing her arms around the dog, and successfully(she hoped) avoiding answering the question. She petted her, then looked up at Dinenol and stood back up. "But what about the other doggies?" She asked, concerned. "Won't they be too cold?" She asked, looking up at him.

She glanced curiously at Khallador when she heard him comment on the coffee tasting 'weird', but she made sure that she did NOT burst into giggles. She was careful to look curious, like she didn't know what he meant. "Coffee always tastes weird." She commented, making a face at the bitter taste of coffee. She'd tried a sip once; it tasted awful. But she knew grown ups loved to drink the stuff, so that was why she thought her prank would probably be a huge success. So far, so good!</font>

Emeralda and </font>Sámion </font></font>
Stables</font>
http://images.cinemaring.com/upload/upload_screenshots/images/cr_actors/5/5/5/eb60ff6f906a49e786588a8e0b85e497.jpghttp://joeprospero&#111;nline.bravehost.com/myPictures/mdtpm4.jpg


Emma was starting to shiver a lot more now, as it was warm inside the stable. She barely heard the stable man talking to the boy, nor did she notice the boy staring at her. She was busy trying to get her horse unsaddled and shivering with cold. She also didn't notice the man talking to her.. her teeth were chattering so much and she still had the sound of the wind in her ears. Plus, it was still blowing savagely outside, which made it a bit harder to hear things over it.

Sámion was grooming a horse when the stable door blew open with a fierce swirl of wind and snow, and a very pretty lady came in with it, leading an almost equally pretty horse. While he was watching her push the door closed and fumble around with her saddle, he jumped to hear his uncle's chiding voice. He looked back at Uncle Roadan, then hurried forward to help the lady, skidding to a stop halfway there when he heard his uncle tell him to give her a blanket. "Oh, right!" He ran back to grab a blanket, then ran back to the lady, whom Uncle Roadan told him was named Emeralda. And, a ranger? He was surprised to hear that, because she was pretty and.. a girl. He handed her a blanket. "Here you go miss! Let me take care of your horse, you go get warm, miss." He said, eager to help. He could tell she was really cold because she was shivering and her lips were sort of going bluish like when you're out in the cold too long, and.. well, because she'd just come in from a blizzard.

</font>Emma looked up at the young boy and managed a small smile when he handed her a blanket, and gladly stepped aside to let him take over with unsaddling Elerrína. "Th-th-tha-nk y-you."</font> She said, her teeth chattering as she shivered more violently. She wrapped the blanket tight around her, along with her cloak, then looked up when she heard someone cry out in pain. She saw Roadan, the senior stableman, holding his finger, and she saw the hammer. Putting it together, she realized he'd smashed his thumb. "H-here, l-lemme help."</font> She said through her shivers, going quickly to his side.

With numbish fingers, she dug around in her little medical pouch at her belt and took out some powdered ginger. Hands shaking from the shivers, she took some snow that remained in the folds of her coat, and mixed it with the powder, making a paste of it, which she gently applied to the man's smashed finger. The ginger would help take away the pain, and the paste consistency would help it stay on the area, while the coldness of the snow would also help sooth the pain. She would wait and see if he would need any further aid for the pain; she could give him some poppy seeds to chew on if he needed it, but she was hoping the ginger paste would work well enough.

Sámion looked over curiously as Ranger Emeralda hastened over to help his uncle after he'd smashed his thumb. He watched her mix something up, and then smear some creamish yellowy paste on Uncle Roadan's finger. He watched, curious, then the horse nickered softly and he snapped his attention back to the horse. He unbuckled the girth and other straps, then lifted the saddle off. He lugged it over to the half wall that made up one side of a stall, and hoisted it up slightly, letting it rest on the wall top.

Returning to the horse, he took off the saddleblanket and put it with the saddle. He glanced over to see what the ranger lady was doing, and to see how his uncle was doing, then went over and finished getting all the tack off of her horse. He went to the back room and got a curry comb, then began to groom the horse, trying to do a good job of it.</font></font>

Haflin
01/May/2012, 08:04 AM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg

Erathor
The Wall

Moments passed in cold silence after he had finished speaking of his sword and his family. For a few of those moments he feared in his half delirious state he had overstepped his welcome somehow by laying his troubles at the feet of these strangers he didn't know. As the silence permeated only by the crackling fire in the room grew longer he cursed himself for a fool, wondering how they would judge him. He had forsaken that life a long time ago and only maddened grief had driven him back to the lands of his forefathers, what was he doing here, a scarred beggar with nothing but an old sword to offer?

His head was bowed in deep and spiraling thoughts such as this so that he barely heard when one of the men, the one who had asked him of his origins, began to respond. Slowly Erathor began to realize that the man's anger was not as he had feared directed at him but rather at his story. He sat blinking when Beren suggested they find the men who had done this to him and his home. It was a very strange thing, until this point the concept of retribution had not entered his mind. Between running and being grieved at the loss of his home and family, he had not thought to be angry. His weariness had robbed him of real shows of emotion and up until this point he had sat with unfocused eyes and dead voice. But now he shook, and not from the cold which began to be replaced with the smoldering embers of an inner fire that he had thought long extinguished. The Ranger continued as he looked on, gesturing towards his blade and speaking to him as if seeing some sort of potential in him that he had not yet seen.

'You have a blade but what will you do with it?' This question the ranger asked him repeated again and again in his mind even as his hands trembled with barely concealed, simmering wrath. No, he would not sit idle, he would be preyed on no longer and he would not let others be preyed on either. He knew in his soul this moment, this decision would define him, here in this little room of a ranger's outpost, and he would not fail it. After the ranger had finished talking more tense moments of silence passed and Erathor's shaking hands gripped the sheathed blade on his lap as he stared intently at its golden threaded etching. Then he did something not even he was really expecting. Slowly and shakily, he pushed his battered legs under him and rose to stand before the men around him as the looked on, probably worried he might fall over from the sudden exertion. He grunted a bit as his stiff legs resisted movement, but he did rise and he did stand in front of Beren as proudly as he could muster, the light from the fire gleaming in his anger filled eyes.

"It has been too long since I last thought about what my father and uncle would have wanted for me. And though you do not know me, you speak truly. It is time I chose to honor them instead of running from their legacy and too long has it taken for me to see this." He took a deep breath before replacing the sheathed blade in his belt and gripping its hilt with his still trembling hand. "It would be my honor to be counted amongst you, if you would have me. I can offer you nothing but what you have seen; this sword and my arm which wields it." His expression was solemn as he continued, examining his free hand which only stopped shaking when he clenched it."I do not know what strength lies left in these things or the blood in my veins, but if it is enough to bring justice to those who have wronged the weak..." At this he met the ranger's eyes and nodded fatefully. "Then it shall be enough for me and hopefully for the rangers as well."

OOC @ Aig:(( Don't worry about it Aig, I can relate when RL becomes a hassle, take your time on whatever it is and in the meantime we can all wait patiently until you or others return from their stresses. I like that idea too and appreciate that others aware willing to play into my character's story.))

Eafurth
08/May/2012, 04:27 AM
Gederas Swythe, a tall man with shoulder-length dark hair, rode up to the Gate. He dismounted and approached. He was nervous and wasn't sure what to expect. All his youth he had desired to become a Dúnedain, and after many months of searching and traveling, he had at last discovered their home - Osdolen. He knocked upon the Gate firmly, and waited.



The blizzard seemed to pick up a bit. Gederas didn't mind. He liked both heat and cold, it was just rain he could not stand. He wrapped his cloak closer about him, though, for what good would he be as a sick Ranger? He patted his horse,Ætior, a black stallion. They had been through all kinds of weather before, and this was no surprise to Gederas' equine friend. He snorted, and stamped his forefeet on the ground. Gederas watched the steam come from his nostrils, and gazed over the barren wasteland.

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
11/May/2012, 04:39 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Four Winds</span></span></font>

Dinenol saw Khallador wave to him and Dinenol inclined his head in return. Watching a moment as Nienna padded over to the child Starya, he turned and approached the other ranger. As Khallador raised the pitcher in offering to Dinenol, he hesitated when Khallador's expression changed rapidly as he drank from his own mug. Dinenol passively watched the interaction of Khallador and Callandil and then chuckled slightly. With a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, Dinenol said, </span></font></span></font>"No, friend, I do not believe I shall take some of the coffee. It seems a might too suspicious for my tastes." He turned to check on Nienna and found that Starya was now petting the dog. "Don't worry, lass. I have them doubled and even tripled up, so they will keep each other warm."</font>

</font></span></font></span></font>http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6145/5964982618_5352840f1b_t.jpg</font></span></font>
Nienna
Four Winds

Enjoying as usual the solid petting of the she-pup, Nienna gave a rumble of pleasure. However, she wasn't as forgetful as the two-legs around her, particularly the one called Callandil. Nienna still sensed something wasn't quite right. Not dangerous, necessarily, but just plain off. However, even Nienna couldn't resist a good petting, so she sat and wagged her fluffy tail. She nuzzled up to Starya's face and licked towards her cheek as a thank-you. And besides, if Nienna had to be the one to spoil all the fun, she was going to do her best to stay in the she-pup's good graces!</font>

Leanan Sídhe
12/May/2012, 05:29 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

Callandil was still staring suspiciously at his adopted daughter, but then became distracted when his son walked in.

"Dad, they want more coffee on the wall." Girion said as he came towards the counter, shaking off the snow on his cap. The innkeeper waved his son to the counter where the coffeepot stood, and Girion proceeded to put both pot - after Khallador poured himself a cup - and sugar shaker on a tin together with some cups and spoons before shivering, ruffling Starya's hair in passing and then walking out into the snow once again with the tin.

Callandil turned his attention back to Starya and was about to say something to her when Khallador accused him of doing something to the coffee. He raised his eyebrows at the man.

"What are you talking about? That's normal coffee, are you trying to trick me?"
</font>



Edited by: Merl Moriestiel

Rainelle Hérandil
13/May/2012, 01:11 AM
Starya
Four Winds
</font>http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Starya was a bit relieved to hear that the doggies were able to share body warmth, but still.. it was cold out there! She couldn't help worrying, but she nodded a little. "Ok.. But I hope they don't freeze to death." She said, still petting Nienna. She giggled a little when she licked Starya's face, then looked up when Girion came in. "Hey!" She protested when he messed her hair up a little. She stuck her tongue out a little at him, shivering a little when the door was opened because she had slipped her coat off when she slid down from the counter. She realized that </font>Girion </font>had just taken the not-coffee and the not-sugar up to the guys on the wall. She stared at the door for a second, wide eyed as she wondered what would happen, but then she quickly looked back down at Nienna, giggling as she petted her some more. She pretended not to be paying attention to the grown ups anymore, but she was actually listening as they talked about the coffee, and it was slightly difficult to keep a straight face. But she managed, though it was helpful that she had Nienna to play with.</font>



Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Beren Camlost
16/May/2012, 01:27 AM
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gifBeren</font>The Wall</font>
</font> Perhaps you can offer more than sword-arm one day, Beren suggested brightly, holding Erathor's shoulder as the stoic man stood before him. There is a place where you can learn the skills necessary to accomplishing any assignment as a Dúnadan and how you can heal an injured comrade. My cousin, Khallador, will tell you where to go and you must have words with him ; he'll officiate the oath you must swear to become a Ranger of the Dúnedain. Look for him in the Four Winds tavern just north of here. It's where we congregate to exchange news and stories ; The Four Winds is the home of Callandil, an older gentleman who was once a Ranger. The veteran kindly allows Strider, our Chieftain Aragorn son of Arathorn, to hold council whenever he's visiting the outpost. Callandil's a good man and a stellar cook. Camlost grinned. He brews a fearsomely strong cider ; I highly recommend you try a tankard, friend. His strong hand gripped Erathor's fatefully before Camlost glanced at the window.</font>
</font> The snow is falling much lighter now, Erathor, Beren observed. It probably won't feel so burdensome or cold to make your way to Callandil's tavern now before the weather becomes inclement again ; I'll get you a new pair of boots. After Camlost retrieved a pair from the emergency closet, he saw Erathor downstairs ; Thalion was already parting the Gate when the two came outside where they encountered a stranger (Gederas) and a vagrant (Hithlond) by the looks of him. Name's Camlost, Beren introduced as floating snow flakes adorned the muscular Ranger's ebon hair. Beren Camlost. He proffered his hand to theMen With No Name, first the man on the horse then the one foot next,so they each shake in greeting. If you're looking to become Rangers how about you go with Erathor, here, to the Four Winds yonder. Beren tilted his chin to indicate Callandil's establishment. My cousin, a stony-faced man you'll meet there, will give you the Oath to swear and he'll mention where the training grounds is for the Dúnedain. Camlost pointed toward a stables to the side of the road.</font>
</font> You can leave your horse there while you're in the city, he said to the rider.All three of youmay look for an abode here in the ancient town. Not many folk dwell here so the pickings will be many ; you all can settle yourselves in when each of you are done with Khallador and after you have a good meal Callandil will serve. Take care, new friends ! He came up the steps of the wall but paused midway when he saw Girion, Callandil's son, approaching. Coffee ? Thanks, lad, it's much appreciated ! Beren exclaimed. I'll hold the door open ! Beren surmounted the top of the wall and pulled the portal of the guard tower open, allowing Girion to pass through. Everyone, we have some hot drinks available, courtesy of Callandil and Girion ! Camlost announced merrily, shutting the door behind him.</font>
</font>OOO @ Haflin ((</font> Thanks for being so understanding ! As soon as you take the Oath at the Four Winds, you can post at Sarn Ford ; Hallas has kindly made an intro and Galastel has already shown up to help *G*.</font> ))</font>
OCC @ RP'ers in the Four Winds and Stables ((</font> I'll start on my Khallador and Roadan segment now and will edit that into this post ; I just wanted to get Beren here first</font> ))</font>GM UPDATE :</font>
</font>Merl's character Girion, Callandil's son, is bringing up coffee from the Four Winds. It has been...tampered with ; I suggest reading the Four Winds segments so you know what's up. Just wanted to make that clear so your character(s) will be able to notice the strangeness of the beverage *g*.</font>
</font>Haflin, Eafurth, and Observer, you may all go to the Four Winds and speak to Khallador and Callandil ; Starya is the little girl the veteran/innkeeper has taken in RP'ed by Rill, I'm sure she'd like to interact with you, too, and Mar's Ranger Dinenol.</font>
</font>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Coffee doesn't taste weird, Khallador countered little Starya's negative declaration. You only think so because you're too little to enjoy it. Khallador grinned just before he stuck his tongue out at Starya childishly. It's well you don't like it, Khallador added reflectively, the caffiene would only make you more hyper. You're rambunctious enough, girl ! he laughed, and Morwen wouldn't be able to get you to take a nap ! </font>
</font> Khallador raked his dark hair with fingertips as Callandil accused him of trickery. I would never lie to you, Khallador quietly vowed, palm laying over hert, I honestly do believe the coffee has been tampered with ; surely not by yourself but someone else then. Perhaps the Rangers at the Wall will testify to the....saltiness, Callandil. The door opened and Khallador turned to look at who entered.</font>
</font>*</font>
</font>NPC Roadan</font>Stables</font>
</font> Aw, miss, that's awfully kind of ya', Roadan spoke quietly, touched as Emeraldastuttered - it would take several minutes for the Ranger to become warm - that she'd help him ; he knew the dark-haired girl was a healer. You're the nicest miss I ever met and that be the truth, young lady, Roadan complimented Rillewen as she made the ginger paste. He sighed as the pain subsided when Emeraldaapplied the healing agent. That feels right good, lass, Roadan thanked her but hesitated before he asked for poppy seeds. Do you have any of those, Emma? he wondered. I've been around for a long while so I know their worth ; there's a chance the paste might not be enough. In my old age, well - he laughed - seems like I feel hurts keener than when I was a much younger gent, know what I mean ?</font>
</font> He whistled for Sam's attention ; the boy was groomingEmeralda's horse, Elerrína. Listen to me, will ya', boy ? Roadan ordered, I can't do much with my hand needing a bit of rest so you're going to do plenty of stuff on your own. Do ya' hear, son ? When there be people needed help in the stables these next few hours, you've got to be efficient ? Understand ? He added in a gentle voice, knowing that in his grief he often had been too hard on his little nephew, I'm counting on ya', son ; you know what to do in here. He looked back at Emmaand hugged the youthful woman one-armed. You ought to go to the Four Winds and get yourself something warm to drink and hot to eat, miss, Roadan suggested fatherly.</font>
</font>











Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
17/May/2012, 04:11 AM
Starya
Four Winds
</font>http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Starya giggled a little at what Khallador said. "Is too!" She argued, sticking her tongue out as well. Ha, who needed coffee to get hyper? She just needed get candy.. or sugar! Speaking of sugar, she had a whole shakerful she had swiped earlier, which she was looking forward to enjoying once she got out of the main room here. She made a face at the mention of naps. "Who needs naps?" She asked, not liking the idea. Why waste time napping when there was mischief to be done? Speaking of, her work here had been done. It was about time for her to scram wasn't it? She petted Nienna a bit more before getting up. "I'm gonna put my coat up." She said, grabbing her coat so she could hang it up where it went. She ran out of the room to go to the back room to look for something else to do mischief-wise.


Emeralda - Stables
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/emma.jpg

Emeralda smiled a little when he said she was kind and the nicest miss he'd met. She wasn't sure about that, she was just doing as she'd been raised to do by her mother, who was also a healer. She listened as he asked for poppy seeds. "Y-yes, I have p-plenty."</font> She said, digging in her side pouch with hands </font></font>shaking from cold. She got a pinchful of poppyseeds. "H-hold out your h-hand."</font> She said quietly, pouring the small amount in his palm. "Th-that should b-be enough to ease the p-pain. It'll make you a b-bit drowsy though."</font> She told him, still shivering from the cold. She was starting to get a bit warmer though, thanks to the warmth in the stable from all the animal's body heat and all. Hearing him suggest that she get to the Four Winds, she looked toward the stable door. "Isn't there a blizzard going on out there?"</font> She asked uncertainly.


</font></font>Sámion </font></font>
</font></font>http://joeprospero&#111;nline.bravehost.com/myPictures/mdtpm4.jpg

</font></font>Sámion looked up when he heard his uncle's whistle, and paused from grooming Emeralda's horse to listen to what Roadan said. He nodded as he gave him some instructions. "Yes sir."</font> He replied when he had finished, noticing he wasn't as sharp this time when he spoke as before. He quickly finished up with Emeralda's horse and led the mare to an empty stall. He wondered if there were going to be a lot of rangers coming in with horses. It seemed unlikely in this weather, but then again, maybe there would be some coming in to get out of the blizzard and stuff. </font></font>
</font></font>

Lôkhî Agân
28/May/2012, 04:20 AM
The Wall

The gate before him beckoned. He studied it from afar,
searching. Searching the wall before him, with its thick gate, and searching
the path behind him, for foes and trackers. There was naught but silence. He
stirred, a grey shadow on a grey day and his passing was a bare whisper.

His goal was the gate. He stopped before it, casting his
eyes behind him once more. All was still, yet he could feel eyes watching him,
weighing him. Warily he stood, his fingertips dancing over the hilt of his hard
used sword. Icy sweat trickled down his neck as the feeling of watching grew stronger.

And yet he did not turn aside, for this was the gate he
sought. The prickly feeling of suspicion would fade in time. Raising the
bunched fist of his weaker hand, he pounded against the gate. Three staccato
raps. A faint breeze teased the edges of his dirty cloak, flirted with the ends
of his dark hair. He lowered his fist.

“I seek your leader.” His voice was pitched to carry, and
was harsh with disuse. “Or one who speaks with his authority. Is there any here
that will treat with me?”

Beren Camlost
28/May/2012, 07:30 AM
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gifBeren</font>The Wall</font>
</font> Bear was about to take a long pull of Callandil's coffee when three knocks sounded below. The muscular, dark-haired Ranger in the grey hooded longcoat and bearing at his weapons belt an elfin longsword, a gift from the the Herald of Elrond - Aigronding Mordagnir -who was his bosom friend, peered through the window ; outside, in the lightly falling snow stood a Stranger (Lôkhî Agân) outside the gates ; his cloak was travelworn and his hair was black, beads of icy sweat coursing down his neck. Since the blizzard was slackening, Camlost opened the window to hear what the vagabond would say. The Man With No Name wanted to speak to a commander at the outpost, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't used it in a while. Captain Thalion, Beren called, would you open the gates again, sir ? he asked and took to the stairs once more. Welcome to the Dúnedain outpost of Osdolen, he said once he faced the wanderer now that the gates were open, outstretching his strong gloved hand in greeting. Camlost. Beren Camlost, he introduced himself gaily and laughed.</font>
</font> Not the Beren Camlost, I'm just named after him ; you can call me Bear if you like. May I have your name, mate ? I have guard duty today but even so, I'm not a leader here but Khallador is the man to talk to if you'd like to join the Rangers. Friendly Beren pointed toward the Four Winds Tavern just ahead. That's the place where he's stationed right now ; he has new members recite the Oath to swear them into the service. Callandil, a veteran, runs the tavern and allows our chieftain - Strider, Aragorn son of Arathorn - to hold council there whenever he's present. Which is seldom because he's such a busy man. Anyways, I'm rambling. I have the tendency to do that. Beren chortled and then spoke of Khallador. He's my cousin, Camlost explained, an older man and graver than I am. He has stony, rugged features and dark hair, wears a green duster coat.</font>
</font>*</font>NPC Uncle Roadan

</font> Aww, ma'am, your hands are shakin' badly, Uncle Roadan mentioned as Emma doled out a few poppy seeds into the palms of his large hands, I shouldn't have asked so you could keep 'em warm, girl. Roadan tossed them into his mouth and began to chew. If I'm feeling drowsy I'll have me nephew look over the stables while I catch some shut-eye in our place ; it's not too far away, miss, so don't ya' worry about me.

</font> Emeralda wondered if a blizzard was still raging. Oh, methinks it's abating, Emeralda, Roadan supposed ; he walked past the lithe Ranger to draw aside the curtains covering one window. Yes, it's snowing lighter now ; I think the worst is over, Emma, Roadan said knowingly in that grandfatherly way of his. If you like to keep us company, I'll get something hot like soup from Callandil and bring it over.</font>
</font>

Leanan Sídhe
28/May/2012, 05:54 PM
Callandil
Innkeeper of the Four Winds

Khallador swore he wasn't trying to trick him, and Callandil raised his eyebrows. "Saltiness? Give it here then, give me a taste." He took Khallador's cup and sipped it just as Starya slipped out of the taproom again, and his face screwed up in distaste as he set the cup down on the counter.

"That's disgusting... it tastes like..." he picked the cup up again and sniffed it carefully. "Walnut husks? Ow, who would do such a thing?" The moment he said it, he knew who, the same person who always too great a pleasure in switching out Morwen's knitting needles for sticks and cow milk for chalk water. He looked around for his adopted daughter, then looked back at Khallador in alarm.

"This didn't by any chance come out of the coffee pot Girion just took up to the wall, did it?"
</font>





Edited by: Merl Moriestiel

Lôkhî Agân
28/May/2012, 06:41 PM
</font>The Wall<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

</font>He flinched as a voice boomed above him. His body braced
even as his gaze sought movement around him. There was little better time to
attack a man than when he stood easy before the door of an ally. But nothing
stirred. The gates creaked under the arm of the named Captain. He stepped back,
placing his feet precisely in his former tracks as the great doors opened.

</font>

</font>In their place stood a man. Tall, and dark of hair, as were
most of this brutal land. He studied the man’s arms, the graceful elven blade
sheathed at his hip. A hand reached towards him, gloved. Strong. He considered
it, eyes judging the man’s open and friendly face. Smoothly, he met the grip.
Squeezed firmly. The arrogant testing of strength was absent in the meeting of
leather-clad palms.

</font>

</font>“I greet you, lord Beren.” His voice was soft now. He
listened silently to the welcome. Beren seemed friendly. Outgoing even. It was
a novel change, refreshing after many cold and silent days.

</font>

</font>When a pause came, he spoke. His voice was as colorless as
the day, deep. “My name is lost to me, lord, and I have neither kith nor kin to
rename me.” He paused, raven brows knit together. “Some call me Lôkhî, for my
path is ever crooked. Others have named me Agân, though these,” he added with a
dark chuckle, “do not live long. Death is my bedfellow, and a truer friend a
man cannot have.”

</font>

</font>He smiled now, bowed slightly from the waist. “But I too,
ramble and speak without thought. You may call me as you wish, lord Bear, and I
will answer.” A lock of hair escaped the windbraids. He pushed it back absently.
Clear eyes, the color of storms, marked the path to the building. Tavern, he
judged. Bear had indicated it, the current headquarters.

</font>

</font>“I go to seek Lord Khallador, then, with your leave.” He
turned neatly, soft leather boots leaving neither sign nor sound. “Perhaps,
when your duties permit, a jack of ale might be shared?”

</font>

Rainelle Hérandil
29/May/2012, 04:54 AM
Emeralda - Stables
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/emma.jpg

Emeralda shook her head a little when Roadan mentioned that he shouldn't have asked for poppy seeds. "It's f-fine. Not a p-problem at all, r-really.</font>" She assured him, starting to warm up slightly but she was still very cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering still. She nodded when he mentioned that he would have his nephew look after him if he was feeling tired.

She looked out of the window when he pulled the curtain back, and nodded when she saw that the snow was letting up. "Alright then. I think I will g-go over then."</font> She told him. "I'll have them send over some c-coffee and soup for you and your nephew."</font> She added kindly. She was about to ask for her coat and cloak when the boy brought them to her with a shy smile. "Thank you."</font> She said with a smile as she put her coat on. She made sure her coat was fastened, though her fingers still felt slightly numb, then she put the cloak on over that and pulled the hood up. After checking that Ellerina was comfortable and well taken care of, she took a deep breath before heading out into the cold once more.

Four Winds

The door to the tavern opened and Emeralda was swept in with a bit of wind and a few snow flakes, which quickly melted. She pushed the door closed quickly and leaned against it, shivering again, more so than before she left the stable. She looked around, spotting only Callandil, Khallador and Dinenol in there. "D-d-do you h-have any c-c-cocoa?"</font> She asked, directed at Callandil as she moved into the room, toward a seat. That soup Roadan had mentioned sounded good too. "I'd like s-some soup t-too, p-please.. and I t-told Roadan I'd h-have some s-sent to him and his n-nephew."</font> She added, her teeth chattering from the cold.
</font></font>

Haflin
30/May/2012, 07:44 PM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg

Erathor
The Wall/ Four Winds

His mind was now clear and filled with singular purpose again. Though still part of it neared confusion, he had thought most rangers to be stoic, rough and secretive like his father and the hushed stories of them in the few towns he had been through in his life. He was surprised still to find such kind and noble men so far from any sort of civilization. This group was still pretty rough, yes, but Erathor had never once met a more golden-hearted man than the stranger standing before him.

After he was properly attired to go about outside again, Beren was kind enough to walk with him a ways and point him in the direction of the tavern he spoke of. On the way they met a couple new arrivals like him. Erathor smiled, it was good to know at least he was not alone in his pathetic state, it seemed the rangers took in more than just displaced kinsmen like him. He was beginning, more and more, to see how wrong he had been about them in his youth. After Beren had left the three to their business, Erathor turned to the others and nodded to each in turn.

"Well met, it seems the powers that be have smiled on each of us this day." He said with a slight smile. "My name is Erathor son of Eradan. I only wish I could have met you gentlemen on a better day than this. I am afraid I have rather urgent business but it was nice to get to meet some kindred spirits."

After the brief introductions were over, he said his farewells for the time being and set off quickly in the direction of the tavern. Perhaps he would meet those two againand others arriving in Osdolen as well in the future. He did not realize it just yet but the oath he now sought to take would give him many friends and even more enemies. He trudged the path up to the doors of the building he figured was the tavern. It was just an old worn foot trail with snow piled on either side but as he closed in on the building he felt as if the trail he now walked had more purpose on it than he could know.

Reaching the door, he hesitated for a moment before, with one hand, pushing the door open slightly and poking his head in to make sure he was in the right place. He saw the open space of the main room and the bar in the back. With his suspicion confirmed, he entered, shivering for it was still quite cold outside. He looked for the man Beren had described and found him with a sweeping gaze at a table near the bar. Erathor approached the man as he watched and stood in front of him, sticking his hand out for the man to shake

"Hello, I had the good fortune of meeting Beren when I arrived. He told me that his kinsman Khallador could be found in this tavern and would allow me to take the oath of the rangers. You wouldn't be him would you?" He asked and then paused before realizing he had not introduced himself. "I am called Erathor, my pleasure to meet another ranger."

Beren Camlost
01/Jun/2012, 07:18 AM
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif</font>Beren Camlost</font>The Wall Tower</font>
</font> Beren's grin was tight, looking into the deep-voiced man's eyes as he spoke. Well, Agân, I'll be merry to see how short the lives of our enemies are when we're in battle together, Beren toldLôkhî</span>and grasped his forearm. </span><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">You may change your mind about Death once you get to know the Rangers here.[/i]</font>
</font> I consider you a friend already, Agân, and perhaps in time I may regard you as a brother. Camlost released his comradely grip onLôkhî</span>. </span>Go in peace, warrior, and rest easy. Beren's smile widened and there was a glint to his grey eyes ; at the mention of a drink shared, the old Bear resurfaced.</span></font><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">
[/i]</font><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; "> I'd gladly have an ale with you,[/i]<b style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">Lôkhî</span>[/b]<i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">! And perhaps entertain you with tales of my journeys in the uncharted realms of the Uttermost East[/i]. Beren winked at</span><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">Agân[/i]. </span><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">I haven't always been in the north, my friend.... [/i]He turned and walked away, heading up the stairs</span><i style="color: rgb102, 102, 102; ">. See you after my watch ! he yelled.[/i]</font>



http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif
</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Khallador relaxed as Callandil realized that he wasn't joking this time ; actually, he hardly ever did, that was Beren's job (though Khallador was proud that Beren was developing a serious side, perhaps he, Jaena, and Moriel were finally rubbing off on him). I'm afraid so, Callandil, Khallador replied somberly as the tavernkeeper, startled, asked if the tainted coffee his son, Girion, had taken to the wall unknowing that the beverage wasn't fit for drinking pleasurably. I hate to say it but your enchanting ward, Starya, isn't so angelic as we and Morwen like to think, my friend, Khallador sadly told Callandil. It's not my place at all to request she be punished, Khallador said, but I do think that the mischievous sprite must be frankly told not to at least play games when it comes to serving the Dúnedain in the Four Winds. Khallador chuckled. I rather have my shoes untied - he imagined Starya holding in her giggles as she, unseen below the table, unlaced his bootstrings - then be giving bad tasting coffee at least.Perhaps you can send a worker to carry forth a new pot of coffee to the guard tower along with the cocoa for Roadan and his nephew that Emeralda has requested - he noticed she was here and asking if that could be brought to the horsemaster and his little helper in the stables. Shortly after Emma had arrived, a dark-haired, bearded man (Erathor)</font> entered the Four Winds. Khallador oustretched his strong, calloused hand to shake.</font></span>
</font></span> An honor to meet you Erathor. I am indeed Khallador, Beren's and Jaena's cousin. I'm the warden of Osdolen. The scarred, tough-looking Ranger with the sable hair and green eyes who spoke, surprisingly, with a quiet, soft-spoken voice as he arose from the chair he had been seated upon. Once you're finished taking the Oath, in all seriousness,Erathor,Khallador said gravely, you may journey to Maenorthrond, the ancient training grounds of the Rangers of the North located among the northernmost environs of the Weather Hills. The facility is located in a glen created by the nestling embrace of three hills, Erathor ; you may find the base by tracking its whereabouts, given by signs you must discover in the wilderness. Now, hearken to me ; the words of the Oath you must repeat if your heart is brave and good. Khallador straightened and his fingers closed upon the hilt of his ancient leaf-shaped longsword of marvelous worksmanship, damasked in serpent forms of red and gold, gleaming in the firelight ; the weapon was a family heirloom as well as its scabbard, a sheath wrought of some strange strong and light metal and was set with a multitude of beautiful fiery stones. The blade was unrusted and still sharp, and its black holster untouched by time</span>.</font>
</font></span></font> 'I am a Ranger of the North, intoned stony-faced Khallador and his emerald eyes brightened as he delivered the archaic, meaningful speech that swore in all Rangers of the Dúnedain. I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.' </font></span></font>
</font></span></font>GM UPDATE :</font></span>
</font></span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Lôkhî</span>[/b], you may finish speaking to Beren and then enter the Four Winds to talk with Khallador so your Oath be taken. Haflin, you may talk with Khallador as well again and this time recite the words to become a Ranger ; gentlemen, when you are both done, you may begin posting in Maenorthrond</font></span>http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_images/bullet.png (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=242359&amp;PID=7431875#7431875)<b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; : rgb255, 255, 255; line-height: 19px; text-align: left; ">.[/b]
</font></span>Though you both will be training there, you may still post in all Ranger threads that interests you ! If you need any advice on how to start in each, please do PM me and I'll give you a brief synopsis and advice about how to get started. Let the fun begin !</font></span>
</span></font>



Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Lôkhî Agân
01/Jun/2012, 03:29 PM
</font>The Wall<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

</font>His smile twisted at one corner, became a wry grin.
Lightened the dark planes of his somber face. The friendliness of Bear relaxed
him marginally. His identity had often caused instant distrust when learned,
his bearing inspiring few offers of comradeship.

</font>

</font>“I would gladly hear of your journeys, Friend,” he replied.
Glanced towards the tavern. “And perhaps regal you with tales of my own, though
I misthink they compare to yours.”

</font>

</font>His eyes tracked Beren’s path to the stairs, planted it
firmly in his mind. Bear’s words drifted back to him, floating on the chill
air. He raised a hand in farewell.

</font>

</font>Tavern of the Four Winds

</font>Lôkhî inspected the entrance and roof of the tavern out of
long habit. The wall at his back eased the lifetime of wariness, but there was
never a guarantee of security. Especially for one such as him. But there was
naught to alarm him. He stepped quietly through the heavy door. The low rumble
of voices assaulted his ears and he stopped momentarily. Let his eyes adjust to
the indoor darkness. Sorted out the voices and assigned them to faces. He would
not forget, and would be able to identify each voice in utter blackness.

</font>

</font>His eyes drifted back to one man. Green eyes. Dark hair.
Scars of battle. An air of danger and a resemblance to Beren on the Wall. Khallador.


</font>

</font>Another man conferenced with him. Agân shifted into the
shadows automatically. Scanned the room again. He returned to watching
Khallador. Their voices came to him, and a smattering of words. A name,
Erathor. He assigned it to Khallador’s companion. Lôkhî could make out the
formal and archaic words that Khallador spoke; each phrase stirring something
deep in the center of him. Woke the fluttering of his soul that he had long
considered dead.

</font>

</font>A silence eventually fell between the two men. Agân slipped
up to stand beside them, boots noiseless on the wooden floor. “Forgive my
intrusion, lord, good-sir.” He bowed slightly. “I am called Agân, by yon lord
Beren. It is not my wish to intrude upon serious speech, but only to make
myself known to you. For I presume you are lord Khallador, who speaks for your chieftain,
called Strider? The warden of the Gate sent me hither, when you have a moment
of time to spare.” He bowed again.

</font>

Eafurth
02/Jun/2012, 11:25 PM
Gederas


The Four WindsGederas entered the Four Walls apprehensively. He liked the spirit - he decided that in a moment. Great! It's just as I imagined. Now for an introduction of some sort... He watched as two other novices approached a man and took the Oath of the Rangers. When they had gone, he slowly approached the man. Sir, I am Gederas Swythe. My father was also once a Dúnedain, and I wish to be just like him. Would there be a place for such a man as me? When the man who revealed himself to be Khallador responded, Gederas was overjoyed! This is my chance! I am finally becoming a Ranger!Khallador informed Gederas that he must take the Oath of the Rangers before he could be accepted as a Ranger. Gederas solemnly repeated the words as they came from Khallador. The tone of the Oath stirred him, and he knew this was no light game. This was business, and he would devote himself to the protection of innocence for the rest of his life.</font>'I am a Ranger of the North.I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.' </font></span>The last words of the Oath left their impression on Gederas. He was to await the return of the Ancient Kingdom, and was called to serve the man and his descendants who held the right and honor to the throne.</span></font>
</span></font>He silently pondered these words. His life was now complete- the stage was set. All that was lacking now was orders... Orders! Yes!</span></font>"Lord Khallador, what would you have me do first?"</span></font>
</span></font>OOC: I assume you meant for me to go ahead and take the Oath?</font></span></font><br ="Apple-interchange-newline">

Haflin
03/Jun/2012, 01:17 AM
http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k541/Warork/th_Erathor8_zpsa4d11b4e.jpg

Erathor
The Four Winds

He was relieved to hear that the man he had approached was indeed the one he was looking for. Goodness knew Erathor had already had enough of looking pathetic in front of these men and women. The dark haired man also did him the favor of getting right down to business. In his addled state, Erathor was not sure how many pleasantries he could exchange. The sudden urgency gave him focus though, as the ranger told him about another hold where the rangers trained. For what he could only guess, but he remembered his father, a man who few creatures would cross, a man who taught him most of what he knew about life and land and at that moment, he thought he could imagine what lay in store for him. Erathor was a bit perplexed though at the prospect of finding a settlement as one would while tracking an animal, these rangers might have been benevolent but they were also crafty it seemed.

"Brave and good" he did not think an oath would make his heart, but perhaps this ranger saw something in him tht he did not see in himself. Only time would tell how important this moment would be for him. His gaze wandered towards the man's side as his hand came to the hilt of his sword. Erathor could only stare, astonished at the magnificence of the craftsmanship for a moment, it made his own sword, a thing that had been in his family for a measure of years nobody remembered, look plain by comparison in its proud but weathered leather sheath. Erathor placed his hand on his own sword's hilt and with a last cleansing breath spoke the words that had initiated every ranger into the service of the heirs of the sea kings of old...

"I am a Ranger of the North, I walk the shadowy places no others will enter..." He began, trying to imagine the shadows that the oath described...evil things lurked there, fearful things he would no longer be fearful of.

"I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns against the cold..." What did it mean to be a ranger he wondered? It was true that he was here because there was nothing else for him, but surely there was more honor to it than that? Beyond the whispers of suspicion, what did these men stand for? It was all there in that oath. Rangers were men who pursued the safety of their fellow men, guardians of their ancestors' lands, and the only remnant of law left in a wild country.

"I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador." All the lands that made up the region filtered by in his mind's eye. In this moment Erathor knew, this oath gave him a duty that was bigger than whatever notions of retribution he had. He was a ranger now, and wherever darkness hid it was his life's work to seek it out and destroy it...

"I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days." Upon the word 'honor' He nearly halted, not because he felt he should not pledge that, but because he felt he had none to pledge. Doubt found his mind but he was able to set it aside and finish the words that needed to be spoken.

It was done. In that moment he felt a sense of fulfillment the likes of which he had not ever sensed. He nodded to Khallador, gave the now fellow ranger a broad but weary smile, and shook his hand once more.

"You honor me by the giving of this oath sir, a debt I intend to repay, I wish we had more time to speak, but I hope you will understand that I have urgent business to attend to with my new position. When we do meet again, I shall owe you a drink."

With a final chuckle and farewell, he left the ranger to business with another man who had entered. Erathor found himself wandering over towards the bar where the keeper was standing and a woman who had entered before him was still recovering from the cold outside.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble.." He said to the keeper whose name he could not recall "Could I perhaps get some of that cider I was told so kindly about and a bowl of whatever smells so good back there?" At the thought of food, he smiled again, having until now not realized how hungry he was "I'm afraid if I don't eat something before I go back out into that cold I might end up falling over again!"

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v620/shasha/earendil.jpg

Beren Camlost
09/Jun/2012, 03:15 AM
http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif
</font>


Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Khallador's green eyes noticed a dark-haired fellow (Lôkhî) who gazed steadily at him as Gederas recited the Oath ; Strider's spokeman reached for Gederas hand to shake as he asked what to do next. I will let you know in a moment after I speak with this man, Ranger of the North ; stay right where you are for I am certain what information I must give you I must also divulge to this man. Khallador smiled as he heard the stranger,</font>Agân,</font></span>had already met Beren.I' m his cousin, Khallador ; it's a pleasure to meet you,</font><str&#111;ng style="text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">,[/i]</span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Khallador[/b] spoke, laying a hand over his heart as he inclined his head in regard</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">. I'm the leader of the outpost and I officiate the Oath that new recruits must swear if they desire to become Rangers of the Dúnedain. [/i]The stony-faced commander peered closely at</span><str&#111;ng style="text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân. </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Somehow I know that's why you came here, to become a warder of Eriador ; if that is your heart's desire, then hearken to me[/i]<str&#111;ng style="text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">and repeat the words I speak.[/i][/b][/b]</font>[/b]</font>
</font></span> Khallador raised his voice as he spoke but compellingly and vibrant. I am a Ranger of the North.<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; line-height: 19px; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days.'[/i] Khallador waited for</span><str&#111;ng style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">[/i]to finish before he would talk again.</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; line-height: 19px; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; "> Consider your next step, gentlemen,[/i] Khallador ordered Gederas and</span><str&#111;ng style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân, drawing closer. You must seek out the training facility Maenorthrond which lays hidden in the northernmost ranges of the Weather Hills ; to reach Maenorthrond, you must explore the wilderness in that area to discover the signs that lead through the forestry to come upon the stone buildings that are nestled in a glen where three hills that loom above the woods meet.</span>[/b][/b]</font>
</font></span> Both experienced Rangers and those who are new acquire new skills or keep their old ones sharp. If you both have horses or will obtain mounts, you can take your steed to the community stables in the southeast grounds and a dirt path leads northward to the Great Hall where registration and some of the learning take place. Peldir, the ruler of Maenorthrond, will let you know what teachers will be instructing you both once you visit the Great Hall. He claped his hands together firmly. Well, that's all I have to say, Ged and</span><str&#111;ng style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân.</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">How about you both speak to Callandil. [/i]<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Khallador [/b]gestured to the older man who sat nearby ; he grasped his shoulder comradely as he spoke to</span><str&#111;ng style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Agân<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">[/i]and Gederas.</span>[/b][/b]</font>
</font></span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; "> Callandil's a veteranbut now that he no longer fightsCal runs the Four Winds ; he's an accomplished cook and brews the finest cider in the North Downs,[/i] </span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Khallador [/b]praised his friend proudly and released his grip.</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">Callandil has to make new coffee for our watchers at the wall since his little adopted girlmischievously tampered with the last pot he had his boy, Girion, sent to the wall so you twain have to be a little patient with the chap ; tell him what you want to eat, soup or stew or whatever, and he'll fix what you'd like up and serve a tankard of [/i]Tubeng </span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">for youboth to wash your food down with, friends. When you're finished, if you would like to choose a home for yourselves here in the city you may before leaving Osdolen to search for Maenorthrond unless you have an abode somewhere in these parts.[/i]</font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; ">
[/i]GM UPDATE :</font>
</font>New recruits, you may now post in Maenorthrond (click here</font>http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_images/bullet.png (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=242359&amp;PID=7431875#7431875)to access the link) as soon as you like and participate in any Ranger activity that's presently happening and any which will be posted in the future !</font>
</font>In one week's time, I will be making a new day at Osdolen which will take place in the summer. So Merl, you can send up new coffee to the wall and interact with the new Rangers until that time ; everyone else, you can wrap up any posting you need to.</font>




Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Eafurth
12/Jun/2012, 09:03 PM
Gederas Swythe, RangerThe Four Winds




Gederas was proud that he was finally a Ranger. He shook Khallador's hand, and then stood aside as a new man also made the Oath. Then Khallador gave him his instructions. He was excited - training at Maenorthrond!?! He could hardly contain himself! He thanked Khallador for all his help, and promised to be a worthy Ranger. He bid farewell to the man, grateful for his acceptance.
Ged then made his way over to the bar counter. There stood two men and a woman. One of the men, who had just taken the Oath as well, was ordering some food. Ged thought of how hungry he was after his long trek through the freezing weather. His fingers were still cold, though they were much warmer than they had been when he first came in. He heard the man mention something about cider. He addressed the man (Erathor): Food and drink; that's an idea!" He called after the bar tender: "If you please, fetch another mug! And another bowl!
Turning towards the man at the counter, he introduced himself. "Hello there. I am Gederas Swythe, but Khallador has nicknamed me Ged, so you can call me that, I suppose" he laughed. "I see that you too have made the Oath of the Rangers and will be making your way to Maenorthrond for training. After I find myself a home here in Osdolen, I intend to go there as well. Say, if you haven't found a place yourself yet would you want to come with me when I'm done here to find one?" , he inquired, wondering if Erathor welcomed his company. He looked over the tavern, enjoying the warmth, and looked back at Erathor, hoping they would become friends since they would undoubtedly be defending good and fighting evil together.OOC @ Haflin: If you want to go straight to Maenorthrond I'll go with you, just didn't know if you had a place or not.</font>

Edited by: Eafurth

Beren Camlost
18/Jun/2012, 01:19 AM
A pot of new, untainted coffee Khallador received from Callandil</font>and he presented it to the Rangers on the Wall who</font>were rather gladdened to drink something that wasn't so...salty.</font>
</font>And time continued on.....</font>
</font>Summer</font>
</font>Early Afternoon</font>
</font>The Wall</font>
</font> A stocky man in black appeared at Osdolen's gates. The muscular, brown-haired stranger with the grizzled beard and green eyes was handsome in a rugged sort of way and his countenance was weary and solemn. He bore a slight resemblance toBerenandKhalladorbut he was much older. On his ebon tunic he wore the rayed star pin of the Rangers ; he was armed with a hand-a-half-sword, recurve bow, and black-fletched arrows. The mortal raised one large strong hand, black-gloved, in salute to the Dúnedain on watch. Thandir is the name, watchmen ! he called, lowering his palm. Back in the cavern there's a wain carrying cargo from Sarnia, the new town that will supply the outpost, the Ranger explained. It lays 20 miles southwards here in the North Downs. Mayor Harkness from Bree and his councilors are under pressure to not equip the</font>Dúnedain</span></span><i style="font-size: small; ">so much.[/i]</font>
</font></span><i style="font-size: small; ">[/i] Thandir grunted, sullen, and removed the dark kerchief around his neck to swipe at his perspiring brow ; it was very hot outside this summer day.</span><i style="font-size: small; "> The citizens, as you all must know, are rather wary of our kind. Anyways,[/i] he spoke abruptly, getting straight back to business, </span><i style="font-size: small; ">I'll need some Rangers to help me unload the shipments and situate the articles wherever - [/i]he paused, trying to remember the names </span><b style="font-size: small; ">Aragorn [/b]had mentioned</span><i style="font-size: small; "> - Callandil and Khallador want them. [/i]<b style="font-size: small; ">Thandir [/b]thrust his big hands into the pockets of his duster coat</span><i style="font-size: small; ">. Also, I am the leader of a new band and must speak of its purpose at the Four Winds.[/i] He grinned.</span><i style="font-size: small; "> I'm thirsty as well. Need a cold drink ; this heat is outrageous.[/i]</font><i style="font-size: small; ">
[/i]</font>The Four Winds</font></span><i style="font-size: small; ">
</font>[/i] Callandil, may Emma have a tall glass of water ? Khallador asked the tavernkeeper from where he sat nearby Emeralda. He turned to look at her. Don't want to get dehydrated ; you're on the mend and don't want to worsen your condition, Khallador wisely spoke, patting his younger friend's hand. She had been poisoned recently during a mission at Deadman's Dike.</font></span>
</font></span> Beren, who had a moment ago requested roast mutton, fruit salad, and a tankard of Tubeng from Girion, remarked to Emeralda, observing she needed some rest and relaxation : Khallador has a list of things that need to get cleaned today, tasks he'll assign to anyone who wants a job, and maybe Callandil has a few chores some Rangers can take care of but you should take it easy in here for a while.</font></span>
</span>






Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
18/Jun/2012, 03:16 AM
NPC's

Cánë and Cára
</font>http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e238/lukecedric/My%20Background/Hotties/avi.jpghttp://www.stmivani.eu/gallery/1232327745_5940_full.jpghttp://www.delta1securitycoventry.co.uk/images/Dog%20Handlers%20Coventry.jpg

</font>Somewhere in the North Downs
"How far would you say it is?"</font> Cára asked, faintly frustrated at her brother as he studied a map of the North Downs area. Cánë frowned slightly as he looked over the map, then looked around.
"I don't know exactly.. I can't really see it too well from down here."</font> He replied. She rolled her eyes a little.
"So get up higher. There's trees all around, genius.</font>" She told him. Cánë looked around thoughtfully.
"Most of those won't hold my weight."</font> He said after a brief mathematical evaluation in his head, judging from the thickness of the branches. Cara shook her head slightly. She dismounted and looped the reigns over a branch, then quickly climbed up a nearby tree, getting high up in the branches.
"Maybe they won't hold your weight, but I'm smaller..."</font> She mumbled. If nothing else, she was more daring. She didn't stop to analyze the mathematical odds of a branch supporting her weight.. she gauged if it was thick enough and took her chances.

Once up in the tree, she looked around, then relayed down to Cánë what she could see in the most detail she could manage. Finished with that, she climbed down and then remounted her chestnut mare. Of the brother and sister, Cára was the athletic outdoorsy type one while Cánë was the bookish one who was always reading and stuff. Cara on the other hand hated dealing with papers and junk. She didn't mind reading too much, but she'd rather spend her time out in the woods than with her nose in a book. Or outside playing with her dog.

She looked over at her brother expectantly. He was thinking, picturing the land's layout in his head and applying what he knew of the map.
"Alright, well.. judging from what you saw, I'd estimate that.. we're somewhere around 49</font></font>ºN by </font></font>120</font></font>ºW.. which means</font></font> we still have to go another..."</font> He paused for a quick estimation. "26,498 feet traveling north by northeast at about 32 degrees, for 15,837 feet, then we have to turn slightly more to the east.. probably around 67 degrees, and keep going for the last 10660 feet or so.. and that should take us to 57ºN by 112ºW... and from there we have only to travel NNE 23º, for... 5380 feet."</font> He told her, nodding to himself as he felt rather confident in his calculations. Cara sat back on her horse staring at him for a moment, blankly. Her dog sat by her horse's hooves and looked around, waiting on them to move on.
"Sorry I asked... Is there any way I could get that interpreted to normal language?"</font> She asked finally. Cane sighed slightly and thought for a moment.
"Basically.. we go about three miles that way.."</font> he pointed with his hand. "Then we go about two miles veering this way a little,"</font> He changed the direction of his finger slightly. "Then for a little over a mile, we go this way and we should come to the place."</font> He told her simply. Cara nodded. That was better.. much more easy to understand.
"Thanks... next time I'll just forgo all that confusion and reply solely on my tracking skills."</font> She rolled her eyes a little, amused at her brother. She flipped the reigns lightly to get her horse moving, and her dog moved along with her.

About 2 hours later, Cara reigned in her horse, looking ahead at a big cliff with what seemed to be a cave opening at the bottom of it. She dismounted, and was going to tell Cane to do the same, but he had already dismounted. They went inside the cave where it would be cooler, and then stopped, seeing a wagon inside the cavern. Cara lit a torch and glanced around examining the area, her dog following along at her heels.
"No one's around.. but someone was here not long ago.. very recently actually."</font> She said thoughtfully, studying the tracks in the dust while her dog sniffed it carefully. After checking out the area thoroughly, she took a seat on the bottom step. Cane looked around, examining the cavern and remarking on different little formations of stalagmites and stalactites. Cara didn't pay much attention, though she did find the cave somewhat interesting. She absently rubbed her dog's ears.

After the horses were rested enough, Cara and Cane moved on, leading the horses up the steps. Soon they came out at the top and found themselves at the top of the cliff, facing a broad ancient city, gates before them connected with a wall. Cara held a hand up to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun. She saw a man standing before the gates up ahead(Thandir). She glanced at the dog, and he was wagging his tail lightly, not bothered. So she knew there was nothing to be concerned about.
Cane frowned, looking around. "I didn't know about that clifftop pass.. I wasn't able to include the cliff in my calculations.."</font> He commented. Cara rolled her eyes.
"Big deal. I didn't know about it either, but it isn't like having your geographic calculations being perfectly accurate is really all that vital to finding this place."</font> She pointed out. Cane didn't reply, but stood there with his horse. </font>"Well, there's the gates. What're we waiting for?"</font> Cara asked. She wouldn't put it past her brother to be calculating how long it would take them to reach the gates.
"There are the gates."</font> He corrected her under his breath as he began following her. She led the way, soon bringing the pair of them up to the gates of Osdolen, their intended destination.

Gates
She stepped up by the man who was there, while her more shy brother Cane hung back a little. The 28 year old red haired young woman smiled in a friendly manner and switched her horse's reigns to her left hand, then extended her right hand toward him. Her dog sat at her heels but stretched his nose out toward the stranger, sniffing curiously.
"Greetings sir, this is Osdolen, correct?"</font> She asked, being the more outgoing of the two siblings. "The hidden city of the dunedain?"</font> The siblings had been searching for the place for quite a while now, and while she did tend to get tired of hearing Cane's calculations all the time, she was rather confident in what he said, and she was fairly certain she had at last found it. Now she could take the oath of the rangers and become one of them.</font>


Emeralda</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/emma.jpg</font>

Four Winds</font>
Emma smiled faintly at Khallador when he asked for her a glass of water. "I'm ok."</font> She told him. "You don't have to make such a fuss about it."</font> She blushed faintly, but was glad for friends who cared about her so much. She glanced over at Beren. "Well, good to know that leg wound hasn't effected your appetite."</font> She commented. "You'd think that hollow leg would be too sore to hold much food."</font> She added as a light joke. She put her chin in her palm and rested her elbow on the table to rest her head down a little, letting her left arm rest in her lap. Her shoulder still felt sore and she still felt a bit weakened from the poison, but she was trying not to let it show too much.</font>

Starya
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>Kennels
Starya was supposed to be staying inside and playing with a doll or something, but she had instead slipped outside. So, now she was outside and looking for something fun to do. She wandered over to the kennels, wrinkling her nose slightly at the smell, but smiling at the doggies. She wanted to let them all loose so they could run around and have fun, but she had to make sure no one was around first. She glanced around in all directions, then started trying to undo the latch on the first door. She could hardly reach it though. </font>








Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Moriel
19/Jun/2012, 04:40 AM
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/TheDunedain/grathav.gif
The Four Winds</font>
with reference to the events of </font>forum_images/bullet.png (forum_posts.asp?TID=236255&amp;PID=7383012#7383012)


Grath Longfletch stared moodily at the tavern, its promise of fire and good cheer unwelcoming. She grimaced, and the now-familiar pull of tight deadness tugged at the right side of her face. Her skin was tanned and roughened by wind and sun, but no amount of weathering could disguise the scar, a puckered ridge of tissue beginning in a point just beneath her eye, running down the cheek, scoring her neck in a manner that would leave any onlooker to wonder how a human could survive such an injury, disappearing over the collarbone and down beneath her tunic. The garment was the color of wet moss, and lay beneath a sleeveless leather jerkin of a deep bay color, which fastened with a sweeping row of buttons up the left side. Both of these fell to just above her knees, with the tunic extending slightly beyond over the tough black trousers that tucked into tall brown boots. Her hair was long, but its mahogany curls were bound back, plaited into cord to keep it away from her face. The marks of long travel were all about her, but Grath moved with a vulpine looseness as she resigned herself to entering the Four Winds.

She was of a clan of Dúnedain who had long lived apart from the others, in a place called the Holt, named for the otters from which the clan had taken their totem. Under the leadership of Grath’s father, Lutra, they had guarded and patrolled the north and east of the Lone Lands, with one or another traveling two to three times a year to report to Osdolen. Occasionally new men had come, and occasionally some had gone, but Holt Lutra was primarily one large, highly extended family, happy in their remote independence. Until the occasion, months ago, when Grath had departed the Holt forever- the sole survivor of her clan. Since then she had roamed alone, seeking and taking vengeance on any who might have knowledge of the crime, or of the whereabouts of a man called Inbar. It was this last that drove her at last to Osdolen, and the niggling whisper of her father, reminding her that she must report what had happened.

The door fell open before Grath’s hands and she shifted down slightly as she passed through, to avoid knocking her bow on the doorframe. Aside from a dagger at her hip it was her only weapon- a stout yew construction, fed by the long ash shafts from the quiver that joined it across her back, flighted by iridescent green lapwing plumage. As she stepped into the tavern her eyes flitted about, taking in its inhabitants, but as she made her way towards the bar, a certain table gave her pause. It was occupied by a young woman (Emeralda) who looked somewhat wan and sickly, and two men. The first was undeniable handsome (Beren), but to Grath’s eyes too slick and clean for this environment, and she immediately wondered if he weren’t some sort of charlatan. The second seemed older, his face more haggard and eyes more grim, and it was he who stopped her in her tracks. For a moment she simply looked at him, then slowly approached the table.

“You are Khallador, are you not?” she enquired, fixing him with her grey-green stare. “I am Grath Longfletch, Lutra’s daughter.”
</font>

Isolde
19/Jun/2012, 05:23 PM
http://i1076.photobucket.com/albums/w449/IssyAlari&#111;n/Laila.jpg

The Gate

Lowering her hood the young woman look at the gate first and then to the watch guarding it. It had taken a good walk up but she had to admit, they had a great view. Moving a stray blonde curl out of her face she exhaled and wondered how they could stand such heat. It got hot back on the plains of Rohan but they had the shade of trees and the coolness of the river to help them make it through the day. There was no river up here and scarce trees. She gave them credit, they truly must be hearty people.

She decided best not to stand baking in the sun. I'm here to see Beren Camlost. She announced herself. Now she only hoped he wasn't off on another adventure and all her travel was for nothing. She knew the watchman was most likely wondering what she was doing up her by herself but she didn't care. Most seen her as a young defenseless girl but they didn't know she'd been raised to take care of herself in a fight and in the wild.

She waited for the watch to clear her while she truly hoped he was here...

Caran Chamion
19/Jun/2012, 07:11 PM
The Gates
Unexpectedly, an elf materialized by the gates. His shimmering silver cloak seemed to allow him to shed the terrible heat with impunity. It also shielded him from unfriendly eyes. After nodding to the young woman at the gate, the elf announced to the guards, "I am Telpegond of Lindon. I wish to speak with Aigronding or Merl about joining your ranger companies here. Could you please direct me to either of them?" He fell silent and waited for his message to be relayed as well.

Hallas C. Pehwarin
19/Jun/2012, 07:31 PM
Guards of Osdolen

NPC's~ Tarvegil and Valvegil

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<!-->The two northern d</span>únedain were dressed in the lighter summer attire of their scattered
people; The Rangers of the North survivors of the fallen northern realm of Arnor.
That being short cotton tunics over which rested slightly heavier leather
tunics with chain-mail that could be detached by the thick leather points,soft
suede leather</span> leggings and tall
weather stained black leather boots. Over all though rested a lighter cotton
dark grey cloak and at the nape of their throats rested a broach of silver
shaped in the likeness of 6 pointed and rayed star. Both bore longswords and
daggers girthed about their narrow waists, and soft leather canvas
quivers graced their backs filled with several dark grey fletched arrows along
with bows of dark yew.

Nearly all rangers had that weathered look from
long wanderings and these two were cousins. Tarvegil had cobalt-grey
colored eyes while Valvegil had dark steel blue eyes</span>. Both noticed the laith female figure standing before the main gate demanding entry and to speak with one of their own Beren Camlost. Tarvegil now turning the age of 39 glanced over at his cousin and spoke softly, " Fetch Captain Thalion since its his decision that will allow that pretty waif inside our home Val." The slightly younger ranger begin only 8 years younger nodded his shaggy dark black haired head in acknowledgment heading down the length of the Wall to find Captain Thalion.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outskirts of Osdolen

Halbarad kinsman of his Chieftain Aragorn or Strider was riding his horse having done what was supposed to be a routine scouting assignment that had taken him toward the cold clutches of the far North near the ice bay of Forochel down to the ruins of Annúminas </span></span>and other former dwellings of their people! Only to encounter Orcs and their larger brethren Uruks! Who were now </span>prowling about both locations with impunity!</span> Halbarad had managed to elude them and raced toward Odsolen with the utmost urgency that still existed in his beating heart! So did the tall and mud splatter ranger now </span>his steed to get to the Main Gate as best as it could go as possibly on the uneven terrain</span>.</span>Halbarad seethed with anger his grey eyes smoldering a storm that would be unleashed upon their foes once more! So he'd taken upon himself to gather up the members of the Grey Company to scatter the Orcs again and to destroy them utterly!

From the snatches of Black Speech did Halbarad glean that they were searching something of worth enough for the Dark Lord to send some of his more crueler breed the Uruks north to meet with the Orcs of Mount Gram! It was ill tidings but action was needed and swiftly! Finally did his steed bring within eyesight of Osdolen! So taking a deep breath did Halbarad shout out, " Rangers! Open the Gate and assemble!" "We've got a dire situation brewing within the bounds of our once great realm of Arnor!"

OOC: Aig I've got an idea taken abet from the LOTRO (lord of the rings online). PM will be coming to you shortly.smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley2.gif</font>
</span>



</font></span>OOC : </font>Sounds great, Hallas, and thank you for getting the Grey Company started again, my friend ; no Halbarad SCR-holder has done that in so long. I'm a little wary of Orcs all the way near Annuminas...but I'll allow it this once ; I think usually Orcs and Rangers battle closer near the Misty Mountains.smileys/smiley11.gifAlso, I'll speak to the Elf in the post I'm beginning now *G*.</font></span>
</font></span>
</font></span>

Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Beren Camlost
19/Jun/2012, 10:47 PM
The Wall</font>



</font> You're at the right place, Red, Thandir answered the vermilion-haired young woman (Cara) who asked if these were the Gates of Osdolen. Known to very few....so how do you know about it, young miss ? I suspect you've had parents or friends who were Rangers ? His gaze wandered over the ruins beyond the gate. I haven't been here in a long time...but I have recently spoken to Strider, our chieftain ; he tells me Khallador is the man new recruits ought to speak to about the Oath they need to swear to become Rangers of the North. He rapped his knuckles on the gate. As soon as we're allowed through, you can find the man in the Four Winds tavern. I'm going there myself - he smiled - I'll accompany you. Thandir noticed the man with her (Cane). You look like a bookish fella ; we could use a man like you at the city. I know an erudite when I see one. It's about time the library in town has a few more stewards ; our lord has told me Istuion is the present caretaker. Whenever Dúnedain at base need information, sometimes they go to him ; you'll find the building in the northwest corner of town, if I remember right. </font>
</font> Thandir was startled (Telpegond) to discover an Elf, wearing a shimmering cloak, appear suddenly ; he had been away to the south for several years so Thandir hadn't seen their kind in quite a while. Mae govannen ("Well met"), Thandir greeted the Elf, laying hand over heart as he inclined his head politely ; he continuing conversing in Sindarin. I happened to stop at Rivendell for a fortnight recently on my way north and met Aigronding Mordagnir at the Last Homely House. He's an Elf like you, Elrond's herald, and Merl Moriestiel is an elleth, I must add. Mordagnir and Moriestiel are the commanders of Ost-Halatir, the headquarters citadel of the Halcyon Guard, the Elven host of Imladris. You can speak to Aigronding or his aide-de-camp, Roina Nilthoron, at Ost-Halatir ; one of them, or Merl, will give you permission to accompany the Rangers on our quests. The fortress is located within the Angle near the Last Bridge. Safe journey to you.</font>
</font> Thandir smiled, noticing the blonde teenager (Laila) who had called out to the guardsman (Tarvegil) to allow her admittance into the city. What brings you out of Rohan, kid ? Thandir questioned the pretty youngster, guessing that the flaxen-haired girl had traveled out of that realm because of the lightness of her gleaming tresses. He supposed this Camlost was a Ranger here and had told the girl, who may be a kinswoman, to find him here if she ever visited the North. Thandir reached for Halbarad's hand to grip. Name's Thandir, sir ; I used to be the commander of the group stationed at Lond Daer to keep the pirates in check and punish the outlaws in the woods of Minhiriath's deep south away. I may join the Grey Company while I wait for enough Rangers to join a new band I'll be leading that will keep watch on the Shire in its lands, working with the Hobbit Bounders. Sarn Ford guarded its Brandywine entry west of the Greenway ; Thandir's band would have a more hands-on role of maintaining the safety in the Shire with its own halfling wardens. Thandir waved at the guard with the cobalt-grey eyes (Tarvegil). Hey ! There's a man on a mission out here and I think you know him well, friend ! Thandir grinned. How about you not wait on the captain this time if he's somewhere inside the tower ? This is an emergency and there's quite a few people who need to get inside the sanctuary.</font>
</font>OOC @ Hallas ((</font> </font>When enough people have signed up here or at least three, we'll commence with the mini-RPG in Paths of Eriador, now that I have Moriel's permission to relate the story to Angmar's order from Amarthel to search for the two palantíri that were lost in the cold waters in the north. We'll probably not actually find the stones - or if we do, they'll be hidden and we'll have the places not revealed to keep with the mystery concerning their whereabouts. Should be a fun RP ! How about you raise the Gate since Tolkus doesn't seem to be on much these days and so that way this thread can remain active ? Thanks, Hal ! </font>))</font>
</font><b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; ">OOC @ Moriel and Rillewen ((</font>[/b] I'm going to post this now for the Elf who wants to participate with the Rangers so he can go immediately to Ost-Halatir ; I'll be including in an edit my Khallador and Beren segments</font><b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; "> ))[/b]<b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; ">
[/b]<b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; ">OOC @ Caran ((</font> </font>[/b]Thank you for asking permission ! You can have your character ask Roina, my captain NPC in the Halcyon Guard who is Aigronding's assistant, for permission to quest with the Rangers. This is my post here<b style="color: rgb255, 0, 0; ">[/b]http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_images/bullet.png (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=243085&amp;PID=7500117#7500117)and I'll be awaiting yours. She'll be giving your character information about a few places where he can adventure with the Dúnedain, I'll include links. As long as your character treats the Rangers politely, he can accompany them on their missions. I'll be happy to RP with you ! Also, if you ever want to join the Lindon Guard, that would be fantastic, it needs more people ; you'd be able to both work with the Rangers and participate with that Elven host as well, by the way.</font> ))</font>
</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> I'm sorry but Emeralda but I have to make a fuss about it, Khallador disagreed. Beren winked at Emeralda, saying : Caring too much... it sort of runs in our family. Beren sighed grandiosely, concluding sadly :So you're doomed to be fussed over, Em. Khallador smiled faintly, nodding, before sipping his coffee. Beren scoffed hearing her. My leg got pierced, Emma ; that means I'm cursed with this limp for a few more days while I'm on the mend but that doesn't mean I can't eat like a bear while I'm sitting around waiting to get better. Camlost blinked. I'll have to watch that, the big, brawny man hedged. Stuck with this sedentary lifestyle right now, if I devour as much food as I like, I'll probably put on a few pounds.... He appeared horrified by the thought ; Khalladorimaginined his exceedingly handsome cousin paunchy and almost barked a laugh. Too bad Moriel isn't here, Khallador thought, she'd have something sarcastic to add - Khallador's guessing the peredhel's witty comeback remained unfinished as the Ranger noticed he was being stared at. The archer woman clad in bay and green looked tough, weathered by wind and sun and hardened by the world's injustice.</font>
</font> She strode to the table ; Khallador straightened as she addressed him by name. I'm a solitary man ; not many people outside these walls could speak to me as you have, Khallador rumbled his reply and outstretched his powerful hand to grip hers. I know you, Grath, but you were a girl when we talked last ; you're grown now. He eyed her scar. That of course wasn't there when you were younger, he said quietly ; he knew her sire, due to their alliance and the recurring yearly reports delivered at this facility carried by one of Lutra's wardens, Khallador was aware of Grath's home, a settlement called the Holt named for the creatures her clan had taken for its totem. Lutra, he muttered although he knew already. The mere mention of her father's name made Khallador's eyes glistened with tears ; that was rare. Not that he cried, he always did, but he never wept in public. I think it's best if you and I speak alone, Khallador suggested, thinking Grath would like to discuss what she needed to personally with him, already arising from his seat and gently warded away Beren's hand as his cousin reached to console him. Don't get sentimental with me right now, Bear; I have to speak with Longfletch, Khallador insisted, and motioned for Grath to accompany him to a non-occupied table across the room.</font>
</font> He was a good man, Khallador spoke hoarsely as took his new seat in the shadowy corner, wiping furiously once at his green eyes to rid the tears. He once saved my life once in the northeast, did he ever tell you about that ?Despite his rough appearance, Khallador was a soft-spoken man but now his voice rose in sudden fury ; he had a bad feeling about this. What's happened to Lutra and the Holt, Grath ? Khallador demanded. His hand curled into a fist on the table. No one out of your community has been here in months ; Lutra always sends a messenger to me. It's long passed the time a courier from Holt Lutra should have arrived here with news for me or Strider.Lutra has always turned down my offers to dispatch a contingent to keep watch on his territory ; we were friends but he thought owing him a life debt was a silly thing and that the Dúnedain had better things to do than keep villains and vile things off his back. He choked back a sob. And that's killed him hasn't it ? How did you get that scar ? Tell me everything.</font>


















Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
20/Jun/2012, 04:59 AM
Cánë and Cára </font>
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</font>Outside the Gate

</font>Cára smirked faintly when he called her Red. </font>"The name's Cára.. and he's my brother, Cánë." She</font></font> told him. She gave a small nod when he guessed she had parents or friends who were rangers. "Our mother was of the dunedain."</font> She replied. "She often told me many stories when I was a child, about her father, who was a ranger."</font> She explained, a faint note of sadness touching her voice as she mentioned her mother. She had died when Cara was 15. She nodded when he mentioned the man she needed to speak to. "Khallador, got it. Thank you."</font> She said, then she let Cane reply when the man spoke to him.

Cane listened as his sister spoke to the stranger. She was so outspoken. Cane was never very good at socializing with people. He was looking up at the wall when the man spoke to him, and he looked back at him as the man commented on him looking like a bookish fellow. </font>"Well, actually..."</font> "Yes.. before he goes into some long drawn out explanation of whatever he was about to say</font></font>, he likes reading</font>."</font> Cara interrupted, not really feeling the patience to hear her brother's speech. Cane glanced at her, then shrugged. He did tend to ramble sometimes, and he knew Cara got tired of hearing his ramblings at times.

He nodded approvingly at the term 'erudite', and smiled slightly. "Yes, erudite would be an accurate assessment."</font> He agreed, a bit shyly. It was nice to hear another word besides nerd or bookworm or something. The use of that word made the man sound more educated than most, something which Cane appreciated. Cane got off of his horse and stood beside it. He was interested to hear about the library. "Where is this library?"</font> He asked, eager to find new books to read.

Then he noticed an elf standing there, and blinked in surprise. He hadn't noticed him until just now.. where had he come from? Cane had never seen one of that race before, but he knew much about them, including most of their dialects. He noted that he had mentioned being from Lindon. "Suiliad."</font> Cane said, speaking in the Sindarin tongue. He remembered that, from his studies, elves almost always spoke in Sindarin, though he did know a lot of Quenya as well. Cara stood by quietly, surprised when the elf came out, while her dog pointed his ears forward and sniffed in the elf's direction. The dog had smelled the elf before he came into sight, but hadn't seen him until then. He was curious about this person, he didn't smell like most people.

</font>Starya
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</font>Kennels
Starya found something to stand on, then she opened up the gate and let the doggy out. She giggled and hopped down, petting the doggy as it sniffed her and licked her face. She moved her standing thing and soon had opened the doors to all of the kennels. The doggies all came out of their pens and Starya grinned as she watched them. She looked around for something to play with them with, and found a stick. "Ooh!" She grabbed it and held it up, trying not to let the dogs knock her over as they struggled to get the stick from her. "Fetch doggies!" She called as she threw it as far as she could.. toward the gate. All the doggies ran recklessly after it, excited and wagging their tails. But when grown ups started to show up, she quickly fled the scene, hiding behind the stable, out of sight. </font>

Emeralda</font>
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Four Winds</font>
Emma smiled a little in reply to Beren and Khallador. Caring too much, funny. She took a sip of water, rolling her eyes slightly when Beren told her she was doomed to be fussed over. She sighed softly. "Fine."</font> She said, pretending to pout. She raised an eyebrow at Beren, and was about to caution him to watch how much he ate, when he mentioned that very thing. "Yeah, wouldn't want you getting fat and soft."</font> She commented with a small smirk. "Wouldn't be much good to the rangers like that."</font> She added.

She noticed the woman come in, and watched her come talk to Khallador. As they moved off to talk in private, Emma turned back to Beren. "You should actually try and get a little exercise while you're on the mend."</font> She advised. "Nothing too straining on your injured leg, but you want to keep your strength up, you know."</font> She adjusted her position in her seat, and winced </font>faintly </font>as her shoulder gave a throb of pain. She hoped Beren hadn't noticed, he might get even more fussy over her. She wished it hadn't been her shoulder to be injured. She actually couldn't help envying Beren slightly, he got hurt in the leg. While he had to limp, he could at least use his arms. She couldn't practice archery or anything until her wound was better.</font>






Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Caran Chamion
20/Jun/2012, 05:24 AM
The gates
Telpegond smiled at the many travelers coming to the gates. He guessed that this day was an exceptional one and very few people ordinarily came here. After he spoke to Thandir, he looked around for a moment. "I am glad I came here," he murmured to himself. "There is much to do. I think I shall like these people and the wards they keep. I hope I may join them soon."
He looked to the guards and the newcomers, Cára </font></font></font>and </font></font></font>Cane</font>, and </font>Laila</font>. "May our paths cross again soon!"
Then he swiftly turned and went back towards the Angle where he could receive permission to join the companies of Rangers. The Grey Company preparing to set out against the northern orcs sounded like an important and welcome mission for him.

Isolde
20/Jun/2012, 07:51 AM
http://i1076.photobucket.com/albums/w449/IssyAlari&#111;n/Laila.jpg





The Gate



She stood, in the hot sun, waiting for permission to enter and
looked at two men (Tarvegil and Valvegil) who seemed to be manning the
gate. One spoke to the other but she couldn't really hear them but the dark
haired one soon left, she watched him disappear then looked back to the
other.



Her attention was then turned with the sudden appearance of an elf
in a shimmering silver cloak. Her light brows rose with both interest
and surprise but when he nodded at her she returned with one of he own
and a light. Westu Hal. She knew very little elven so her common tongue would have to do.



Just then she noticed another (Thandir) who started to speak with
the elf, Telpegond. Altho she could hear them clearly she tried not to
listen in on their matters so when he addressed her she looked at him
with keen blue eyes. Being called a kid wasn't new but she didn't see
herself that way. It was a matter of saving my life Sir...should I have
stayed much longer I would have died of boredom. Sooo...I decided to
make my way North and while here I was reminded to come see Beren
Camlost. Sir. She added.





She then heard the familiar sound of hooves and turned to see a man
quickly approaching on horseback. This couldn't be good. He yelled for
the Rangers and spoke of a dire situation.They spoke abit then Thandil, as she came to know him, yelled to the other watchman to forgo the Captain and open the gates to everyone.

She sincerely hoped they would, it was hot and now there seemed to be trouble ahead also...plus she still didn't know if Beren was even here!

Hallas C. Pehwarin
20/Jun/2012, 12:36 PM
Guards of Osdolen

NPC's~ Tarvegil and Valvegil

Valvegil now had walked up and down the length of the Wall with absolutely no sign of Captain Thalion... 'Oh well he can chew us later!' thought the 31 year old northern </span>d</span>únedain as Valvegil signaled to his older cousin Tarvegil that he was going to open the Gate and admit the lady, the elf and now Halbarad who'd just arrived on his horse and bade all rangers assemble! With that single message did Valvegil place his callused hands around the lever that controlled the Main Gate and pulled it back. With an almighty groan did the Gate raise itself up and lock into place! The seasoned ranger then spoke to all who still dwelt outside his deep bass voice firm and commanding, " Enter all and enjoy the hospitality that We Rangers can give!"

~~~~~~~~~

Halbarad was glad that the Rangers on duty had the sense to open the gate and allow him to pass! With that he urged his nearly exhausted horse through the Main Gate passing through the thick grey stone portcullis. Now the kinsman of their Chieftain was home albeit for a brief while and soon got down off his horse extricating himself from the saddle and stiff as a board! His attire was like that of his fellow </span></span>d</span>únedain; wearing a </span>short cotton tunic of dark grey over which rested slightly heavier green or brown leather
tunics with chain-mail that could be detached by the thick leather points over that a hard sleeveless dark grey leather jerkin of boiled leather, a pair of boiled grey leather vambraces that protected his forearms, soft
suede leather</span> leggings, and tall
weather stained black leather boots . Over all though rested a lighter cotton
dark grey cloak though Halbarad's was trimmed in bronze wire embroidery to indicate his position within the Grey Company as one of its Captains and at the nape of his throat rested a broach of silver
shaped in the likeness of 6 pointed and rayed star.

OOC: Great Aig definitely ready to wait a few days to entice any who wish to ride with the Chieftain of the D</font></span>ú</span></font>nedain!smileys/smiley2.gif</font>
</span>

Isolde
21/Jun/2012, 08:56 AM
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The Gate

It was with a great groan that the Gate started to move and was raised for their entrance. She watched and when it was fully up she looked at Valvegil as he spoke for them to enter and enjoy the hospitality the Rangers could give. Thank you Sir. She then wasted no time and pulled her pack higher up on her shoulder. Stepping through the large gate she found herself in a large Courtyard.

Courtyard

Her steps slowed as she looked from one end of the courtyard to the other. Men and women were gathered here and there, some playing a game of horseshoes but her attention was turned when she heard the barking and baying of dogs. They were running her way and she had to stop and brace herself when they all ran right around her apparently chasing a stick from the looks of it. She looked back to where they had come from and seen a young girl looking very guilty. She didn't mind tho, the dogs were happy. By now each one was trying to get his share of the stick and keep the others away at the same time.

She would have taken a moment to play with the dogs herself but she first wanted to find Beren. She headed toward a small grouping of men and inquired about him. She was pointed to the Four Winds. She thanked them and set off.

The Four Winds

Pushing open the door she stepped inside and let the door shut itself. The coolness of the place was a welcome relief from the heat outside but she didn't let it distract her. She moved away from the door and took a moment to glance around the room. She caught sight of a man and woman (Khallador &amp; Grath) as they slipped away to a corner but that wasn't who she was looking for. Her eyes cast back across the room to the pair seated at a table.
Hearing his familiar voice a smile spread across her lips and relief mixed with happiness at seeing him.

She moved closer and heard the woman(Emeralda) speaking to him about getting some exercise while he was on the mend. Interesting news she thought and wondered how her Aunt would take that news. She stepped closer. She's right you know. You don't want to get an ale belly and loose those good looks, aye Uncle Bear? She came to stand near him, a very familiar mischievous grin spread over her lips as a dimple peeked out on her left cheek.

Caran Chamion
22/Jun/2012, 04:48 PM
Gates of Osdolen
Telpegond strode toward the gates, hoping he was not too late. He had heard that Halbarad needed men to accompany him against the northern orcs. He just hoped that the ranger had not set out yet. Fortunately, the guards welcomed him once he stated his intent. It seemed he was in time after all.

Courtyard
Telpegond heard dogs barking loudly and looked over his shoulder. A large pack of dogs was cheerfully fighting over a stick, and they were being watched by a little girl who was looking decidedly guilty. The elf decided to ask her if he could help her. Perhaps he could stop her from getting into any trouble, as she seemed to have been the one who let the dogs out...

Besides that, he also needed to find Halbarad and volunteer for his mission. He shrugged -- that could wait a few minutes -- and approached the girl. "Hello, little lady. Do you need me to help you with the dogs here at all?"

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
25/Jun/2012, 03:51 PM
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Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Stables &gt; Kennel</span></span></font>

Dinenol left the stables feeling incredibly light and cheerful. He had just witnessed one of the most beautiful events in the world. It gave him a warm feeling, indeed. Nienna was nestled warmly in a stall, now with six fuzzy little pups at her belly, nursing and fighting for a good spot. It was an adorable sight, one he knew the child Starya would love to see. But now, if only Dinenol could find Starya... He looked around the courtyard, wondering where he should look first. He was just turning towards the Four Winds when he heard barking. Turning back around, he frowned. It sounded like it was coming from the Kennels. In fact, it sounded like a lot of barking was coming from the Kennels. Dinenol started forward, wondering if a stray cat had somehow gotten in. As the noise grew louder, Dinenol quickened his pace. He came round a corner... and was nearly knocked over as twelve full-grown hounds bounded past him, chasing some object that was flying through the air towards the main gate. He cast a bewildered face towards the Kennels, noting all of the open cages, and the small figure of Starya. "</span></font>Starya...? No, stay!" He turned and sped after the hounds. They had clustered around the object that had been thrown but lost interest in the span of five seconds and was running around a young woman (Laila) who had somehow managed to extricate herself from their midst and continue on towards the Four Winds. Dinenol let out a sharp whistle. About seven of the hounds turned and came bounding back to him, but the other five had found new interest in an elf (Telpegond) who had just strode through the gates of Osdolen.

The five hounds had the training not to jump up on the elf, but their excitement over being utterly free from their cages could not be contained. They darted around his legs, knocking into each other. Dinenol pointed a commanding finger at the more obedient seven hounds. "Sit!" They did as they were told, looking mutinous as not being allowed to join the fun. Dinenol ran to the other five and started dragging them back. He forced their hind-ends to the ground with a firm hand to their backsides, all the while saying, "Sit! Bad hounds!" At long last the dozen hounds were sitting haphazardly around the courtyard near the Kennels. "My apologies, sir," he said, a hand still on the most rambunctious of his charges. "I hope you are unharmed. They are usually much better behaved." With a hand clasped on the rope collars of two hounds, he started dragging them back towards the Kennels. The hounds went willingly enough, though tried to veer away a few times to look at some object of interest. A third hound trailed after them of its own accord -- Dinenol noted it was Mother, the most obedient of all the hounds -- as a fourth rose from its sitting position and started chasing a butterfly.

It was not easy work, but Dinenol got the first three hounds back into their cages. He ignored the butterfly-chaser and merely devoted himself to the task of slowly bringing over hounds two at a time and returning them to the cage. At last eleven of the twelve hounds were caged up. The loose hound had stopped chasing the butterfly came padding docilely over to them, sniffing at Starya with curiosity. Dinenol frowned again as he took the hound away and closed it up, and then rounded on the child. Fighting to keep exasperation from his voice, he said, "What did you think you were doing? The hounds are well-trained, but even they can be excited. They aren't playmates, either." He stooped so that he was at her level and put a hand on her shoulder. "They are hounds bred for hunting and don't know how to behave around little girls. You could have been hurt, but I'm glad that no harm has been made." The reason for Dinenol's search came back to him and he stood up with a growing smile. "If you'd like to have some fun with dogs, however, you might want to come with me to the Stables. I've got several someones you might like to meet." He turned back to the stranger (Telpegond) and said. "Is there anything I can help you with? Are you searching for someone?"
</font>

Caran Chamion
25/Jun/2012, 05:01 PM
The Courtyard
As he watched Starya and Dinenol, Telpegond</font> suddenly started laughing merrily. It was good to have a reason to laugh again. Little Starya had looked so comical, standing next to the huge dogs. And she had been brave enough to let them all out herself. Still, she needed to be more careful. He smiled at her. "Well, little lady, I think that was an adventure. But make sure you don't try any more adventures that might get you into danger like that." He smiled at her. Then he turned to Dinenol, who was asking him what he wanted.
"Ah, good day to you. Yes, I have come looking for something. I heard that Halbarad wished for volunteers to join him on a mission to the northern lands. I wish to join his company. Do you know how I can accomplish that? I am new here, having only recently received permission to join the Dunedain on errantry. I hope I am not too late to join him."

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
26/Jun/2012, 03:08 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Courtyard</span></span></font>

Dinenol felt uncomfortable giving directions but he knew it was because he still wasn't used to being a part of any group. Indeed, his long journeying alone through the wilds had left lasting effects on him. However, when the elf mentioned Halbarad, Dinenol was ready enough with an answer. </span></font>"I do not know where Halbarad is at this moment, but if you go to the Four Winds you can probably find someone in charge. Beren and Khallador are frequently there and one of them should be able to tell you what the next step is to join the Dunedain." Dinenol pointed beyond the stables to where the Four Winds stood. The taproom was seldom empty and stood out from the rest of Osdolen, making it easy to identify and even easier to reach.

OOC @ Caran - (Beren and Khallador are both NPCs of Aig's who you already know; he can give further instructions through one of those NPCs when you take Telpegond to the Four Winds</font>)
</font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
26/Jun/2012, 06:01 PM
Halbarad now moved off heading across the courtyard the stones ringing against the soles of weathered stained black leather boots. He'd kept the hood of his dark grey cotton cloak cast back to allow his weathered face and dark hair to cool the sheen of perspiration that clung to him from his stressful and hard ride. His grey eyes carried a stern look that carried over into the current expression that seemed etched into his face. Finally did Halbarad head inside the ancient abode of his race moving down the grey stoned corridor heading for their tavern; the Four Winds.</span>

Now did the kinsman of their reigning chieftain entered the tavern scanning the familiar surroundings. Where in more peaceful times did he enjoy atankard of </font></span>Tunbeng. Halbarad then again spoke his deep voice firm yet friendly, "Hail Callandil! How many of our folk currently dwell within Odsolen?" Taking a short breath to refill his lungs did Halbarad choose to elaborate the dire situation, " My fellow rangers I came back to gather as many as possible for mission of grave importance." " That is our ancient Enemy has sent his spawn to scour the North." " Namely in the bay of Forochel and in within the ruins of our once great city Ann</font></span>ú</span>minas searching something of worth." " We must throw these plans into disarray immediately for whatever the Enemy seeks we must take possession of or at the very least see that it goes into the safe keeping of the Lord Elrond in Rivendell." Now the Captain of the Grey Company await any and all responses from his fellow </font></span></span></span></span>d</span>únedain to see if any would join on the perilous assignment that would take them to their races 1st true capital then north to the icy wastes of Forochel.....</span> </font></span></span>

Caran Chamion
26/Jun/2012, 08:47 PM
Courtyard/Four Winds
Telpegond thanked Dinenol for his assistance and quickly strode towards the Four Winds. Judging by the echoing voice inside, Halbarad must be there, and asking for volunteers, by the sound of it. It was a good time for him to enter. He laid a quiet hand on the door and swung it gently open.
He entered silently just as Halbarad announced the dire situation. He stepped up and spoke quietly to the ranger, "Mae govannen, Halbarad. If I have your permission, I will join any of the Dunedain who come with you. I have a score to settle with the enemies of the north. Angmar and its allies have not taken their lesson well enough."
He stepped to one side and surveyed the rangers gathered together in the Four Winds, waiting for them to volunteer.





Edited by: Caran Chamion

Moriel
27/Jun/2012, 06:31 AM
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/TheDunedain/grathav.gif
The Four Winds

</font>
Grath returned Khallador’s grip, her rough hand tightening about his. She was filled with consternation when she saw the gruff-looking ranger’s eyes begin to fill with tears- what on earth was the matter with him? If he was going to weep now, perhaps it would be better not to tell him the news she had to impart. But, as the chieftain did not appear to be present, Khallador it would have to be. She followed him across the room to a vacant table, empty tables and chairs creating a barrier between them and the rest of the tavern’s occupants. Settling into a straight-backed wooden chair, Grath was about to speak when Khallador’s tidal wave of words overwhelmed her- or perhaps it simply seemed that way, after months of solitary and silent trekking. “Pull yourself together, man!” she snapped, the pressed her lips together in a thin line. “Yes,” the confirmation landed on the table like the dull thud of a blow, “it has killed him. Him, the rest of my clan, and nearly myself.” Grath’s fingers had gone up to her face, worrying the scar without realizing, until it was mentioned. She dropped her hand in distaste.

“This is the fruit of our destruction and my weakness. We were caught unawares, attacked in the very Holt itself by a foul mixed gang of orc and man, heavily outnumbered. Like the others I was struck down, and I suppose the blade who gave me this never paused to think that I might survive. But by some miracle I did, and when I rose I was the only one left. Once I was well enough to travel, I sealed the Holt and burned it. It is no more, and I am the last of Holt Lutra- except for one possibility, and that is why I have come.” Grath leaned forward in her chair, prodding her finger into the tabletop. “I have a younger brother, called Inbar, who was born some time after we met. He was not among the dead, nor could I find any trace of him in the Holt after the raid, and his bow and quiver were gone from their place. I can only believe that he was taken prisoner by this band, for I have spent each day since searching for any sign of him, and found nothing but one brief and obscure pair of boot tracks among all the others leading away from the Holt. I have encountered many fell creatures, orc or man, and believe I am closing in on those who massacred my family. Whether Inbar is alive or dead, they must be wiped from the face of this earth, and I cannot do that alone.”</font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
29/Jun/2012, 04:28 AM
Halbarad now turned his weathered face toward one of the Men (Telpegond) who'd been conversing with his fellow </span></span></span></span>d</span>únedain. So did the Captain of the Grey Company give nod as acknowledgement and acceptance. He'd also have to send word to his liege-lord and kinsman Strider whose true name was only know to a chosen few. But Halbarad choose to keep his mind on the task at hand assembling the rest of his company and leading them into the fray against the Orcs of the North and remnant of the forces of the Angmar.... But with the day growing short the ranger decided to wait here for a while longer and took a seat near the fire that was going in the ancient stone hearth. His grey eyes seemed to gleam faintly in the dim light of the Four Winds as the rest of his fellow </span>d</span>únedain began to converse among themselves...</span>

Beren Camlost
11/Jul/2012, 04:54 AM
<b style="text-align: left; : rgb251, 251, 253; ">The Gates of Osdolen</font>[/b]
</font> "Not much for nicknames, huh,Red? Er, I mean,Cára?"Thandirasked, mispronouncing the young woman's name on person, straight-faced. He became serious as the girl spoke of her family quietly, a small touch of sadness in her voice.Thandirwasn't sure if it was for the fact thatCára's grandfather had passed away or if something tragic had happened to her mother but he held her shoulder gently."Now you can make your own stories,"he said,"and perhaps your grandchildren will be inspired by your heroism, friend."He turned to speak with the redhead's brother,Cánë."The library is a domed and marble structure, mostly intact, at the center of this city,"Thandirexplained,"look for the oak grove,Cánë."</font>
</font>He laughed, hearing the golden-haired teenager (Laila) declaim that she would have died of boredom."Beautiful land, Rohan, but I don't blame you. Not much to do in those wide open spaces but here in the North there's plenty of trouble to get into."He winked at her."But if it's some fun without the risk of getting yourself killed you're looking for,"he added, laughing,"Maybe this Ranger friendBerencan take you to Bree if you like. They've got a theatre over there and though you're not old enough to buy yourself a beer,Barlimanmakes the best spiced potatoes in town."Thandirwaved a thank you at the guard on the wall as the Gates parted to allow everyone entry and he passed through, walking toward the Four Winds Tavern.</font>
</font>OOC @ Rillewen (( </font>You</font> can haveCánëexplore the library ; I'll let you write how it looks like. In my next post I'll have my librarian meet him within *G*.</font> ))</font>
</font>*</font>
</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Berensighed wishing he was able to comfortKhallador."Okay, enough, all right, I get it,"BerentoldEmeralda, laughing, nudging her slightly."You know, I did notice that grimace of yours,"he pointed out, becoming serious."How about you ask Girion if his mother, Morwen, can allow him to retrieve something from her healer's kit she might have here so he'll be able to give you medicine that will lessen any discomfort. I know you don't like being fussed over but you ought to feel comfortable, you know ?"Suddenly an all-too-familar, young female voice spoke nearby him, warning him about the departure of his handsomeness."Laila !"Camlostjoyfully exclaimed, whirling on the seat of his chair. At the sight of her, Beren endeavored to rise immediately but his leg's healing wound reacted slightly negative to his hasty movement ; Beren's mouth contorted in a rictus of pain. He sat gingerly back down. "I'm sorry, Laila....Bear was wounded in the line of duty recently,"Camlostapologized, glancing away ; as usual, he didn't like for the child to see him weak.</font>
</font> "C'mon here,"he implored quietly, opening his arms for his younger friend to hug him. He embraced her tightly from where he sat ; thus far in his life,Isolde's ward had been the daughterBerennever had."You're taller than when I saw you a few months ago when Tarawen and I visited Swanholme, (OOC @ Issy : ((</font> I still need to get Tarawen, Sur, and I over there but have to finish in Dale first but this could have happened before Laila's coming to Osdolen *g*</font> ))," Beren observed as he disengaged, removing his arms ; Camlost gestured for Laila to sit where Khallador had been, right by his side. "Stop growing up, Laila, you're scaring me !" Beren pleaded and loosed a robust laugh though, secretly, he still wished that Laila that was nine again. "You came all the way here to see me...alone...." Beren marvelled, staring at her in disbelief. "You're maturing so fast," he murmured, before returning to his drink. He studied Laila as he sipped his Tubeng. "Perhaps you're old enough and wiser to adventure with me. What do you think ?" he brought up casually, setting the pewter vessel upon the table.</font>
</font> "I'll take you to the Bree-lands, too. There's going to be a production of Romeo and Juliet at the Sparrow Theatre ; I want to audition for Benvolio, Romeo's easy-going friend. You could watch me act from the audience." He grinned. "And we can camp in the Chetwood. You can meet my, um, friend, Malvina. Chances are she'll probably be nice to you instead of me." Beren laughed dryly and gazed at the table top for a moment with a melancholy expression, regretting an old decision. "I could take you to Lake Evendim in the west ; the waters are so warm this time of year and you can meet the Green Elves, I have a few friends among them. Are you hungry, thirsty ? This man, Callandil -" Beren gestured at the older gentleman with the limp "- is the tavernkeeper. Tell the veteran what you want and he can fix up a meal for you, Laila." He grinned lopsidedly. "And a fruit punch..." .</font>
</font> Beren's attention was averted by the announcement of Halbarad's. "I'll volunteer, Halbarad !" Beren excitedly responded. "My leg is on the mend ; I'll be ready to join you and the elf Telpegond on the quest in seven days, I reckon. Seems like the Enemy is searching for two of the missing Stones. They are perhaps lost forever beneath the cold seas of Forochel but, if they have indeed turned up, I can't miss out on the opportunity to prevent them, if discovered, from being grasped by evil clutches." Beren smiled at Laila. "Would you like to accompany me ?" he asked her, a light in his eyes surely familiar to Laila appearing now. "The limits of the northern world, battles with the forces of the Angmar Remnant, the paradisal elfin realm of Imladris....what's not to like, right ?" Life was never boring with Bear around. He turned to speak to Emeralda. "If you're feeling better, would you like to go with us, Emma ?"</font>
</font>*</font>
</font> Khallador gripped his hands together, breathing deeply for several seconds before loosing his breath slowly ; Grath was right, he needed to be calm ; it was just that he didn't get close to many people that weren't his kin. He seemed himself again though, aloof and quiet and stony, in moments and Khallador gazed at Lutra's daughter wondering guiltily if he would ever be able to forgive himself for sending reinforcements to the Holt....or if he'd ever respectfully ask for her own. Ultimately he decided Grath would hear none of it and so Khallador laid the thought to rest. Orcs and sinister men had overwhelmed the Holt, heavily outnumbering its defenders ; Grath survived but every member had been killed to the last...except for possibly her brother, Imbar. She wanted to seek him out and punish the fiends that had destroyed her community.</font>
</font> "You will not accomplish this quest alone indeed ; we'll stamp out this foul lot together. Your quest for vengeance won't be complete without my ardor in this enterprise." He took the hand that had touched the surface of the table and gripped it firmly in his muscular hand. "Living, I'll aid you...or dying, I will have tried, Lutra's daughter," Khallador rumbled his promise. He released her and stood. "I don't know you as well I had your father. I knew him to be a private man and somehow I know you must be as well. Rather than announcing this mission in public here in the tavern, I will circulate word of this mission about the city and will dispatch a summons to as many Ranger outposts in this area that I can so we can help you fulfill your quest to exterminate these minions and rescue your kinsman. If it pleases you, Grath. What location would you have us meet in Eriador to begin the hunt ?"</font>








Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

Moriel
11/Jul/2012, 06:05 AM
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/TheDunedain/grathav.gif
The Four Winds

</font>Grath nodded. Once Khallador had mastered himself, he was what she had expected him to be: loyal, stern, and purposeful. "Dying is not something I expect to do, but if I must in order to free Inbar or his remains, then I shall. Still, I think that with a small and skillful company, it might be accomplished without death- on our side, at any rate." Longfletch's grim face darkened. "There will be many a death to be had for the bandits who slew my clan, and any with knowledge of them, this I vow." She too rose as Khallador did, the corner of her lips tugging her assent. "An excellent notion. I know very few here, but I will trust your judgement, as I know my father did. Let us gather in two days' time at Fox Tor, north of the city. I will find some way to repay you for your aid, Khallador. My father would thank you for aiding me in this. ...I thank you too." She put her hand out to clasp his, gave a final inclination of her chin, and strode swiftly from the tavern. There were preparations to be made!</font>

Turin Ringhûn
13/Jul/2012, 02:54 AM
Suro Nuril

The Gate

Suro walked to the gate. I had been three days since he fought the bandits in the Old Forest. He had walked and walked. His clothes continued to get filthier and filthier. He looked like he'd fought a war all by himself. His new sword hung by his side. The guard at the gate called down to him. Upon his reply the gate creeked open and the Ranger walked through.

Courtyard

Suro paid no attention to any of the people that were present in the courtyard. Dogs barked and the heard the clacks and skittering of die being tossed and dropped on boards. He shook his head as he passed by a couple kids who were dueling each other with sticks. He saw Hirvegil working with a couple people and he continued on. All the way to where he could get a drink.

The Four Winds

Slipping through the door, he let the cool air wash over him. With his peripheril vision he looked around the room as he made his way to the bar. "Drink please." Soon one was brought to him and he downed it quickly. A man walked by him and whistled lightly.

"What happened to you?"

Suro shook his head. "Can't tell you."

"Come on. What happened?"

"I said, I couldn't tell you. I mean, I can't. I have no memory of what happened. From what I can tell, I have lost maybe a month of memory. Maybe more."

With that, the man left him alone. "Maybe I should have gone to my real hom, by the lake. I may have a house there in chetwood, but Lake Evendim is home. Nice and peaceful." he thought to himself. He then left the bar and went in search of a bath. Valar knows, he could use it.

Tolkus
13/Jul/2012, 04:23 AM
The WallThings seemed to have been busy lately with comings and goings threw the gate. Captain Thalion sat atop the wall over the entrance to the hidden city, over seeing all who passed within or out. Thalion watched as a particularly dirty looking man came to the gate. He shook his head and laughed to himself, "Dirty bugger that one is." As the man called up for entrance to the city, one of the guards questioned him then the guard gave his Captain a look. Thalion noded and gave the okay for the man to enter. The gates slowly opened just enough for the man to come in. So is life on The Wall. The Captain and the guards watching over the hidden city of Osdolen, protecting all inside the great walls. Always on the watch for any danger at any time.

Isolde
13/Jul/2012, 07:57 AM
http://i1076.photobucket.com/albums/w449/IssyAlari&#111;n/Laila.jpgThe Four WindsShe noted the way he grimaced in pain when her Uncle tried to stand to greet her. He apologized for it and but she waved it off. I'm sorry to hear you were injured Uncle. She did as asked and leaned down to hug him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek she smiled as she leaned back up. Well I do believe I've grown some. She grinned then took the seat he offered. Letting her pack slip from her shoulder she chuckled. Aunt Issy tells me the same thing. I don't listen to her either...she sends her love and says stay out of trouble.She rest her pack on the floor, next to her boot. It wasn't that bad really. Uncle Odo sends his best...as well as Uncle Grimm..but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. She giggled. She had Uncles galore but her favorite was her Uncle Bear, he was more like a father to her..both good and bad she supposed but she loved him dearly.His suggestion widened her smile. What do I think?! That would be wonderful Uncle! she exclaimed. He then told her of all the different places and things to see and she was on the edge of her seat with anticipation. A play? How exciting! I've never seen one before..well..besides the small puppet shows the peddlers do, it all sounds wonderful.She looked at the man Bear referred too. I could use something to eat..pardon..Callandil, can I get a stew please. Hearing Bear say fruit punch she looked at him and grinned. I hope that's for you Uncle. I'll take whatever your drinking there. She motioned to his mug of Tubeng. She then watched as he volunteered to go with a man he called Halbarad on a quest. Beren then asked if she would like to accompany him. You'd have a hard time keeping me here. She grinned and nodded. I'll go! He then turned to speak to the other woman at the table which Laila hadn't ment to be rude to. Oh, pardon me. I was so excited to see my Uncle I forgot my manners. I'm Laila..Alarion. She smiled in greeting.

Rainelle Hérandil
16/Jul/2012, 03:01 AM
Cánë and Cára </font>
http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e238/lukecedric/My%20Background/Hotties/avi.jpghttp://www.stmivani.eu/gallery/1232327745_5940_full.jpghttp://www.delta1securitycoventry.co.uk/images/Dog%20Handlers%20Coventry.jpg

</font>Outside the Gate

</font>Cára merely rolled her eyes when he mispronounced her name. She had a feeling it was meant only to annoy her. She wiped sweat from her brow, wondering how long they were going to have to stand out there in the hot sun waiting on the gate to open. She gave a small smile to the man when he spoke kindly to her, as if guessing or sensing her sadness. She nodded a little and rubbed the top of her dog's head, since he was leaning against her side as if also guessing that she was a little saddened.

Then the gate opened and at the moment it did, she saw a whole pack of dogs running toward them. She widened her eyes a little and swiftly grabbed the collar around her own dog's neck, keeping a firm grip on him. "Heel.. stay." </font>She said firmly, pleased that he obeyed, but not really surprised because he was a very well behaved dog.

Cane nodded as the man told him how to find the library. He then widened his eyes as the gates opened to reveal a lot of dogs running toward them. He stepped back and quickly grabbed the reigns of his horse, which had suddenly become nervous and pulled at the bit. Shortly after, a man was hurrying around trying to grab the dogs and soon had captured them all. Cane smiled faintly. "Well.. I think I'll go find that library now."</font> He commented.

Cara waved to him. "Have fun, don't get too lost." </font>She replied, starting forward to find the Four Winds.
"I don't think I'll get lost.. he said it's right in the middle of the city how could that be hard to find?"</font> He asked. Cara looked back at him and smirked. "I meant don't get too lost in the books."</font> She told him, then grinned and kept going, though she looked to see if Thandir was still with her, since he'd said he was going to accompany her there.

Library
Cane smiled a little and shook his head at her, following the others into the city. As Cara headed toward the Four Winds, Cane moved off from his sister and her new friend, heading toward the center of the city. He soon found the library as Thandir had told him, and entered eagerly. He walked in and looked around, in a sort of hushed awe at the beautiful place. There were rows and rows of bookshelves, with books and scrolls filling each shelf, and a high domed ceiling that was very beautifully made, with windows all along the walls to allow light into the building, for reading no doubt. He wandered in further, eager to explore the place.

Four Winds
Cara was hoping that dogs would be allowed in the tavern, because while she knew the dog would stay put if she left him outside, she would rather not. She just hoped not to be reprimanded about it, as she opened the door and stepped inside the Four Winds and looked around. Her dog stayed close to her heels, tongue hanging out casually. It was hot outside, so both Cara and her canine friend were happy to be inside where it was much cooler. She turned to Thandir. "Now, where is the man you said I needed to speak with?" </font>She asked, unsure if the man, Khallador, was there or not.
</font>
Emeralda</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/emma.jpg</font>

Four Winds</font>
Emma looked up when she heard someone speak to Beren, and smiled faintly to the young lady who was there. She kept quiet while she and Beren had a bit of a reunion, and guessed that she was a relative of some sort, especially since she called him uncle. She observed him attempting to stand but noticed that he couldn't seem to do it, and frowned slightly. But she didn't intrude in his reunion with his niece, and instead kept quietly to herself.

She looked quietly around the room and tried not to listen in to Beren's conversation with the girl, listening as Halbarad came in and made a rather important announcement. She would have volunteered but she could still barely use her bow. She sighed lightly and looked down, but then she heard her own name and looked back to Beren. She smiled a little. "Perhaps, not sure I'll be able to though."</font> She replied, then smiled at his niece. "It's quite alright. I'm Emeralda, but most call me Emma."</font> She told her. "Very pleased to meet you, I actually didn't know that Beren had a niece."</font> She said with a curious glance at Beren.</font>





</font>
Starya
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Behind the Stable
Starya peeked out from behind the stable and saw Dinenol grabbing
the dogs and putting them back up. She also saw that the gates had
been opened, and she hoped none of the doggies got out. From her place
behind the stable she watched some people come in but she kept hidden so
they wouldn't see her. She hoped she didn't get in trouble. Then Dinenol found
her, and she looked up and smiled innocently at him. She fidgeted a
little when he reprimanded her for letting the dogs loose. "I'm
sorry.."</font> She said quietly. "I just wanted to play with the doggies.."</font>
She added, looking apologetic. She hadn't even thought that the dogs might hurt her.

She brightened, however, when he didn't
scold her too much and then mentioned 'several someones' that she could
meet. "Who?" </font>She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly in
curiosity. She tried to think who could be in the stable. Horses? She looked around, noticing something. "Hey, where's Nienna?"</font> She asked, realizing the doggy wasn't with Dinenol like she usually was. Then it hit her. Several someones.. Nienna wasn't there.. and she was going to have puppies. "Did she have them? Did she?!" </font>She asked excitedly. She jumped up and down in excitement. Surely that's what it was; how exciting! </font>



(OOC: yes, since apparently no one noticed in my post before, Starya is not still standing by the kennels where she was when she let the dogs loose. She has gone to hide behind the stable, so no one should have seen her standing there looking guilty. and even if she had been standing there, she would have had a mischievous, amused look, not guilty.</font> )




Edited by: Rillewen Aran

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
23/Jul/2012, 01:42 AM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Courtyard</span></span></font>

Though it had taken a bit to find where the child had slipped off to while he'd been distracted with the stranger, Starya had not eluded him fully. When he was beside her and had knelt down and conveyed his concern, he knew she had understood him well. She was young and flighty. Full of energy and... well, how could he refuse her sweet little eyes when they turned so sad upon his own? He found his heart tightening and he was quick to smile to show that he wasn't angry at all. Just concerned. He honestly didn't know much about Starya. Who her parents had been. Who officially was in charge of her now. All he knew is that he wanted to make her life happy, and right now he knew just what to do.

</span></font>"I shall tell no secrets!" he declared mischievously, rising to his full height. "If you wish to know, you must come with me!" He move towards the stables, fairly confident that she would need no further encouragement to follow after him. Without checking over his shoulder he continued walking, a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. Sure enough, he heard her following along (GM with permission), and he led the way into the stables. He turned and put a finger to his lips and then drew her to a seemingly empty stall. As they came into it, however, the sight of Nienna and her six puppies came into view. The puppies had stopped nursing and now were crawling over each other at their mother's warm belly. Dinenol stepped to the side to that Starya could approach.</font>

Turin Ringhûn
24/Jul/2012, 06:10 AM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Suro Nuril
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Private Room

Suro paced about his room. He'd already kicked off his boots and was fighting with his shirt. The mud and blood and sweat had it stuck to his torso. Riiip a sleeve tore at the shoulder. Swearing, Suro threw it to the floor and continued ripping chunks off until it was completely off. Kicking his leggings off, he went to the bucket he'd filled when he had entered the room.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">The water was quite cold he realised as he dipped his hand into it. Taking a couple deep breaths, he stripped his undergarments off and slowly lowered himself into the tub. Holding in a screetch, he bit his tongue till it blead when he reached a certain depth. He spit outside the tub, and plunged the rest of the way in.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">His teeth chattered within moments. But he stayed. Raising himself a little, he reached to the floor to grab the soapstone that was there. He then scrubbed himself raw to rid himself of the death that clung to him. Once his body was free, he worked up a lather and washed his hair as well.

He sat and soaked for the next half hour, tryingto ignore the cold. "Where did that time go? I mean, how could Ilose ... how much time wasit? A month, more? How much time did I lose?" He sighed. "Gorm. Do you know how much time I lost?"
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">At times, he felt stupid talking to voice in his head. Especially when he spoke aloud to it. "I dunno Suro. Given the people, and the weather, I'd say about four to six months."
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">"Four to six months. How in all of Udûn could I have lost all that time? And what did I do during that time? And ..." he stopped speaking. His hear raced. Standing, he shook his head. "I have to calm down." He stepped out the water and re dressed, in a clean set of clothes. Making his way to the armory, he replaced gear that he had missplaced during his absence.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Courtyard
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">Suro made his way outside. His mind raced and his heart pounded so hard, he could hear the blood flowing in his ears. His hands tingled with adrenaline. Finding some practice dummies, he drew his sword. Slash, a slight ring was heard. A scratch was seen across the hardened shell of the dummy. A couple cuts and another slash were made, and more scratches could bee seen.
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">"GyyyaaaaAAAA!!!" he growled and yelled. He elbowed the dummy's face. A pommel shot was then delivered. He was furious. He just couldn't believe that he lost all that time. He continued to pound out his frustrations with the dummy.

Lôkhî Agân
25/Jul/2012, 08:52 AM
(belated reply)

</font>Agân inclined his head
as </span>Khallador</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </span>[/i]spoke, silent affirmation. Green eyes sought
secrets, Agân could feel the penetrating gaze. Met it with a darkly shielded
grey gaze in return. And yet there was a smile on </span>Khallador’s</span> face,
twitching at the mention of Beren. “To become a Ranger would indeed please me, lord
Khallador.” His voice was soft, yet rough with a hoarseness that revealed how
long he had been without speech.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /></span>

</font></span>

</font>Khallador spoke the
words of the Oath. Once again, the sounds tugged his inner strength. Awoke a
part of him long dead. With those words, he would again have purpose. He would
belong. Though his dark past often set him apart, his skills could be useful. The
dim void that had become his life would funnel to a single, honorable goal.</span>

</font></span>

</font>He spoke. The flavors of
the words assaulted his tongue. Wrapped deep around his heart. Calmed the maelstrom
which was his soul.</span>

</font></span>

</font>“I am a Ranger of the
North. I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the
bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my
dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns
against the cold; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills,
the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my
life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur </span>for this day and all my days.”</span>

</font></span>

</font>It was spoken. Agân fell
silent, bowed his head to hide the flare of triumph in his eyes. </span>Khallador spoke, his voice firm now. Detailed
instructions were given to finding Maenorthrond and further training. Agân accepted
it, wrapped in his veil of silence. No speech was needed, and he was a man of
silence. Neither hunger nor thirst plagued him, so he merely acknowledge the
offer, waiting for the dismissal. He would find a storehouse to replenish his
supplies. The urge to be going, doing was upon him. </span>

</font>

Caran Chamion
03/Aug/2012, 04:07 PM
Telpegond
The Four Winds
Telpegond looked over to where a ranger had volunteered for the same mission with Halbarad. He focused for a minute, listening through the quiet noise of voices all around him until he caught the man's name: Beren. Ah, so that was Beren. He needed to speak to the ranger and perhaps ask him about the mission, as Dinedol had suggested. He stopped listening as Beren began talking with one of the girls who had passed through the gate that day. What was her name? Laila, yes.
After she seemed to have finished speaking to Beren, Telpegond made his way over to the table. Saluting the company, he offered his hand to the ranger. "Well met, Beren. I am Telpegond, elf of Lindon. I've just been given permission to join the Dunedain on errantry. I'll be part of Halbarad's company too. Could you tell me if you know what our mission will entail and perhaps introduce me to some of these people?" Telpegond glanced over at the girl standing by Beren and smiled at her. "At least I have already met Laina."

Rainelle Hérandil
12/Aug/2012, 10:10 PM
Starya
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Inside </font>the Stable
Starya peeked</font> around Dinenol as she followed him into the stables, wondering what it was he wanted to show her. She hurried to catch up as he went to a stall that seemed empty.. but she could hear something inside. Curious, she peeked in, and let out a little squeal of excitement when she saw them. "Puppies!"</font> She exclaimed in a whisper, so not to disturb them. She grinned up at Dinenol, then looked back down at the puppies. "Aww, they're so cute!"</font> She said, then hopped up and down a couple of times in excitement.

She was soon down on her knees, admiring the cute little puppies as they crawled around. She didn't get too close though so Nienna wouldn't feel like her puppies were in danger or anything. She looked back up at Dinenol with wide eyes. "Did you name any of them yet?"</font> She asked, worried that she might have missed out on it, like naming puppies was the absolute most important thing in the world!</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
13/Aug/2012, 10:10 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg</font>http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5964982618_5352840f1b_t.jpg</span>
Gwaedhor
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Courtyard</span></span></font>

Dinenol couldn't have held back his smile even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. The child squealed and her following whisper seemed a bit pointlessly quiet. After her initial outburst of delight, no amount of loud talking would bother the pups. All the same, it filled his heart with gladness that he'd decided to share the moment with her. It took her next to no time to get down on hands and knees, watching the pups stagger about. Five of the puppies showed only mild interest in her before bumbling back to nuzzle Nienna's warm underbelly, where they latched on and continued their nursing as if the child had never interrupted them in the first place. The sixth puppy, looking every bit like its mother, nosed its way towards Starya. Dinenol, for all his experience caring for the hounds, hadn't remembered puppies being so adventurous at such an age.

</span></font>"I hadn't really given much thought to names," he admitted, watching the pup's progression as it crawled around her knees. "I guess at this age it might help to name them according to their looks. And gender, of course. For those five by Nienna its not important, but I thought... well, that one there," he indicated the adventurous little pup, "seems to have taken a liking to you. Maybe, if you want one..." His voice trailed off. Would she want a puppy? He'd always thought of dogs being more of a pet for a boy. Girls seemed to like cats more. But the only good cat in places such as Osdolen were cats that caught mice. Cats for pets were for the wealthy. Starya seemed to love the puppies, but all dogs were cute when they were puppies. Is a real full-grown pup something she would want?

OOC - (If you want that pup for Starya, you can go ahead and pick a name and gender. The puppies all look more or less like Nienna, I suppose</font>)
</font>





Edited by: Mar Fireblade Mordagnir

Rainelle Hérandil
15/Aug/2012, 02:05 AM
Starya
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Inside </font>the Stable
Starya watched the little puppy come toward her, and smiled at it. Then her eyes widened when she heard Dinenol say that. She looked up at him, really excited. "Really?! Could I..?"</font> She asked, super excited at the idea of having a puppy of her own! She looked back down at the puppy, excited by the thought that it could be her own. She wondered what to name it though. Very carefully and gently she picked the little puppy up in both hands and held it up so she could look at it closer, smiling at how adorable it looked, especially when it sniffed toward her nose. She giggled slightly and looked up at Dinenol. "But I don't know what to name it.."</font> She said uncertainly.

(OOC: when I was about her age, all I wanted was a doggy, more than anything smileys/smiley2.gif I always liked cats too though, and better than dogs. lol</font>)
</font>

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
15/Aug/2012, 04:05 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg</font>http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5964982618_5352840f1b_t.jpg</span>
Gwaedhor
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></span></font>Courtyard</span></span></font>

Dinenol felt a tiny smile stretch his lips at her pure delight of his decision. The puppy sure seemed to like her, but she definitely was liking the puppy. The puppy looked so little in her hands when she picked it up. </span></font>"Well, sometimes the animal will choose the name for you based on their behavior. Or their appearance. You can make the name unique by translating it to another language." He hesitated and then plunged on. "I am called Foeslayer by many, but Gudagnir by others. Gudagnir means Slayer of Foes." He felt surprised at his own revelation. He'd never told anyone at Osdolen that, and yet here he was, sharing it with a little girl. "Sometimes the name has nothing to do with them but more to do with you. Perhaps name them after someone you used to know. Someone who maybe is gone now." He swallowed hard and then squatted down to be more on her level. "The puppies will need to all stay with their mother for quite a while until they are strong enough to make it on their own. You can wait before naming."
</font>

Angelikus Snape
25/Aug/2012, 01:10 PM
Emora</font>At the Gates</font>
</font>It had been days sinceEmoratraveled far and wide looking for the Rangers' outpost. She had always wanted to recite the oath since she was a child. Her father had served as a Ranger of the North as far as she could remember and listened to the stories that he had to tell whenever he got the chance to go home and spend time with his family. However, as per the stories thatEmoraheard, her father was one of those who were ambushed by orcs as they were on a quest of an unknown reason and was not disclosed to anyone else, save those whom were given the instruction and go to that ill-fated quest. Now,Emorawanted to follow in her father's footsteps, against her mother's wishes. It was not really because she wanted revenge for her father, no, it was because she wanted to make a difference in the North and the only way that she thought of was to be a part of the Rangers of the North.</font>
</font>Upon seeing the gates with her emerald green eyes, she saw that it was strong and sturdy enough to withstand anything. She also saw some of the Rangers protecting the entrance, she then started to feel nervous. Her hands were shaking as she approached one of the guards (</font><b style="font-style: italic; color: rgb0, 102, 153; ">Eärno[/b])and said to him, a little quiver in her voice:"Sir, please let me pass, I wish to swear the oath of the Rangers and become one of you someday."Emorathen waited patiently for a response still nervous on the decision to be made. There was no turning back now, if she had to kneel down and beg for entry she would...</font></span>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
25/Aug/2012, 06:27 PM
Odsolen
The Wall
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>
NPC's~Eärnol and </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Ostover</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>sons of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Turandil (Strong-Friend)

Both brothers were dressed alike in soft leather being black and forest green, cloth inner tunics of soft beige, tall weather stained boots graced their feet, and over this simple attire were their customary dark grey cloaks. Both had swords resting at their waists now a fair lady (Emora) had returned to their races hidden stronghold! Eärnol spoke first, " Good day lady certainly we'll shall open the gate." With gesture to his brother </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Ostover</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> did they open the gate it opening with a groan. Again did the scions of once respected family speak Ostover this time, " Lady do you have any kin or another of our race that you are bound to?" Thus did the brothers await the the young vibrant ladies reply....
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>

Angelikus Snape
25/Aug/2012, 06:51 PM
Emora</font>


At the Gates</font>
</font>Emora felt a sigh of relief as the gates opened for her. She did not actually want to beg for the gates to open for her but if she had to, she would do it. She was extremely grateful that</font><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal; text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Eärnor</font>[/b]opened the door for her and said "Thank you very much." as he opened the gate to let her through.</font></span>As the gates opened, her eyes widened. She did not imagine that the cavern she entered was as wide and as cozy as she would have imagined. Sure, it was not cozy as those other places that she had stayed, but it seemed homely enough at least from a Ranger's point of view... maybe. Then one of the other Rangers, then the other Ranger,</font></span>Ostover</span>asked her whether she had another kin or someone whom she was bound to. To Emora, it was quite an odd question. Why would someone be interested in her personal life? Much less someone whom she did not quite know. Nevertheless, in order to be polite, she answered the question anyway in a casual tone. She stated, "I am actually a cousin of <b style="font-style: italic; ">Angelikus Snape[/b]. A soldier of the City of Minas Tirith in the South."<i style="font-weight: bold; ">[/i]She was quite glad about the accomplishments of her cousin and hopes that she would be able to do the same here in the North.</span></font>
</span></font>~o~o~o~o~o~</span></font>
</span></font><b style="color: rgb153, 0, 255; ">OOC @ Hallas:</font> [/b]This is a reboot of my character Emora. For your information, just in case I intend for her not to know Hyarion in future RPGs</font>smileys/smiley10.gif</font></span></font>

Edited by: angelikus snape

Angelikus Snape
28/Aug/2012, 06:02 AM
<b style="text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Emora</font>[/b]



The Wall</font>
</font>Emora then patiently waited as one of them, whom she found out to be</font>Eärnol, went down the stone steps in order to, most likely, accompany her to her destination. She then listened as the brothers bantered on about how one of them likes to pry about other people's affairs and how one likes to chase skirts. Emora was quite amused indeed and chuckled towards the remarks of both of them. The nervousness that she felt was beginning to fade and that she was now beginning to feel that she belonged... well, not yet, as there was still something important that she had to do in order to really belong to this place.</font></span>
</font></span>It seemed that</font></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Eärnol [/b]was quite embarrassed at his brother's remark based on his pink face and the drop of his eyes to the floor. When Emora got her senses back from all that chuckling, she simply stated, "No worries! I'd rather have someone who chases skirts, rather than someone who prys on other people's business." she said within earshot of Ostover in order for</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Eärnol [/b]to feel a bit better.</span></font>
</font></span>A few tense moments later, Emora looked on. She wondered whether or not the brothers would "get it on" right here and right now. It was a good thing that</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Eärnol [/b]was able to compose himself before informing her that they have a tavern and quarters for her to stay in. "Actually, I do have business with the Chieftain." she began to speak. "Is he currently at the tavern that you speak of? If he is, I do not wish to hold you up any further as I am sure you still have duties at the gate. If you could point me at the right direction, I would be well on my way. Thanks again for opening the Gate." Emora then waited for</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Eärnol's [/b]response before at least she went on her way...</span></font>
</font></span>~o~o~o~o~o~</font></span>
</font></span>OOC @ Hallas:</font></span> </span>I think that a reboot would be best. This way you can make Emora fall in love with Hyarion, or another one of your choosing, all over again... which could be interesting, to say the least...</font></span>smileys/smiley10.gifsmileys/smiley2.gif</span>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
28/Aug/2012, 05:25 PM
Odsolen
The Wall
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>
NPC's~Eärnol and </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Ostover</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>sons of Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Turandil (Strong-Friend)

Eärnol was surprised and relieved </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>when the young lady Likus up spoke giving out her own barbs, "No worries! I'd rather have someone who chases skirts, rather than someone who prys on other people's business."</font> That remark made Ostover mollify himself and feel abashed but gave the lady a curt nod before choosing to return to his duties namely patrolling up and down the Wall while stopping at key points to gaze out to see the desolate landscape that was once the mighty northern kingdom of Arnor. </font></span></font>Eärnol </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>continued to focus his attention on Likus whom inquired if their Chieftain was here at their hidden stronghold or if he was within the tavern that he'd mentioned.

Taking another breath did the older of the two brothers answer truthfully," I don't believe he is here m'lady otherwise we'd know through other guards Mallamir, Artavor, </font></span></font>Tarvegil, and Valvegil</span>." " The tavern is called the Four Winds and is run by one of our own who served as a ranger Callandil." " As for oaths of fealty or service they are taken care of by another our people </font></span></font>Khallador."

Extending a hand and pointing a finger did </font>Eärnol choose to rattle off directions. " The stone corridor ahead is the main path through this ancient stronghold." " Here in the courtyard you can train with our weapons master </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Hirvegil</font></span></font>." " "Another our race manages the small archery range but I can't seem to remember her name. " "We also have stables for horses, ponies, and all beasts of burden."</font></span></font> </font></span></font>" On the left hand side is the tavern with a row of torches on either side that </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>illuminate </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>stone corridor fairly well since some of doors are wood dyed black and bit further down the path diverges again into two side alleys." "Left is personal quarters and the right are the commodes which branch off again left for men right for ladies."

At this the 55-year old northern d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain choose end the introduction to their hidden stronghold and refuge.</span> Then did Likus give a smile and thank him for opening the Gate."You're welcome m'lady enjoy your stay with us." At that simple exchange did Eärnol gave the weary traveler a wan smile as she slowly headed inside. He then returned to the Wall and joined his brother in guarding Odsolen until relieved by their comrades in arms.

OOC:@ Likus hmm a redo of our romantic relationship I'll definitely look forward to writing it.</font>smileys/smiley4.gifsmileys/smiley10.gif
</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>

Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Angelikus Snape
29/Aug/2012, 04:40 AM
<b style="text-align: left; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">Emora</font>[/b]



From the Wall to the Four Winds</font>
</font>The information Emora had heard was most helpful because now she knew who to look for and where to go. Since the Chieftain was not here, she now had to look for Khallador who was most likely at the Four Winds. She then began to move towards the tavern, each step noisily being made my her boots as she was taking each step deliberately and with purpose towards the stone corridor. She then stopped in front of the homely tavern, as pointed out by</font>Eärnol. Taking a deep breath, she began to ponder. "Was this really the life that her father intended for her to have? Were the pointers that she had learned from her dad a preparation for this kind of life?" she then took a deep breath knowing that once she entered those doors, there was no turning back.</font></span>
</font></span>Upon opening the doors of the tavern, she was actually not expecting this many people from a city that was supposed to be hidden. Wooden tables and chairs occupied the tavern and at the other end was the bar which to order drinks from. It would be quite hard to look for Khallador here Emora thought to herself as the garb of all of the people here looked the same with their cloaks and their hoods. According to her father, one of the best ways to look for someone if you were inside a tavern was to ask the barkeep and make sure that someone overhears your conversation so that at least if the barkeep can't answer you, someone else might.</font></span>
</font></span>She then took another deep breath, to get the nerves out of the way, and approached the bar. Upon reaching it, she ordered "beer" from the menu before asking the barkeep: "I'm looking for a Ranger named Khallador. Do you know him perchance?" Hopefully, it was enough for someone to overhear, or maybe the barkeep could answer the question himself.</font></span>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
30/Aug/2012, 08:18 PM
Eärandil(Sea-Friend) son of Eärvir(Sea-Jewel)

Ranger of the North

Riding to Osdolen
soon reaching it and hailing those on Guard Duty on the Wall

The weathered middle aged ranger had pushed his newly purchased quarter-horse in Bree hard.
He'd traveled as fast as the beast could possibly go taking a few back
routes through the wilds of what once was long ago the Northern Kingdom
of Arnor and later its successor states; Arthedain, Rhudaur, and
Cardolan. His ranger attire was splattered with mud and soaked in sweat
but serviceable still. His summer dark grey cloak whipped and snapped
about as the wind howled. Eärandil allowed his gaze to go skyward
for a moment and his ash-grey colored eyes saw the outline of a storm
front coming down from the north. Muttering to himself, " Great rain just what we need."
Taking another path that lead up toward the stronghold which was
nestled within the craggy heights of the North Downs. Soon enough part
of the ancient abode could be seen with the sun shining its rays upon
it. The 65-year old northern d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain ash-grey colored eyes</span> continued to look upon this last bastion and refuge that was inhibited by the survivors of once mighty Arnor.

It
had high walls made grey stone with ramparts, a great portcullis was
sitting squarely in the middle that allowed entry inside. The walls
curved back into recesses of this section of the North Downs. A great
door of oak bound with steel stood within the shadows of the portcullis.
It was closed at the moment and it had certainly seemed as though an
age since Eärandil had roamed its aged old streets, the courtyard, archery ranger, stables, the tavern called the Four Winds,
or the personal quarters of his that had lain empty for nearly 20
years! Now did this seasoned ranger call out to those certainly on guard
duty patrolling the Wall. " Hail fellow rangers!" It is I, Eärandil son of Eärvir I seek entry and to redeem my service to our venerable Chieftain or whomever is administering the Oath."

~~~~~~
Odsolen
The Wall

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>NPC's</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>~Eärnol </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>and</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Ostover</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>sons of </span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärnor </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Turandil

</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>The brothers had continued their vigil guarding Odsolen. After
walking the length of the Wall and crossing paths did Ostover turn
aside to gaze out upon the expanse of the North Downs. His steel-grey eyes now notice the arrival of another of their brothers in arms. Who then hails them telling his name </font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>Eärandil son of Eärvir and asking for entry so that he could renew his oath of service to their people and Chieftain. Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font> too hears the call of the newly arrived ranger and at a nod from his brother grasps the large wooden lever that controls the Main Gate and pulls it back. With an almighty groan the massive wooden and steel gate swings inwards. Ostover then speaks up his deep voice sounding like a kettle drum, "Enter brother and go see </span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></font>Khallador </font>in the Four Winds."

~~~~~

</span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>The Great Gate &amp; Courtyard

Eärandil was grateful that the sentries on duty had opened the Gate allowing him to enter and informing him to see another of their kin Khallador in the tavern the Four Winds. Choosing to dismount and giving his horse a well deserved rest did the seasoned ranger come into Odsolen. He also whispered words of praise to his steed in the elven tongue but in the common speech was thus, "Well done my friend you've served well and now I'll shall take you to the stables to rest, drink some water, and to feast." The horse nickered and nudged the ranger playfully in the back telling him to go on. So did Eärandil lead his steed across the weathered courtyard toward the stables.

The Stables

Reaching them in short order did the ranger's ash-grey colored eyes pick out a stall and lead his horse inside its floor covered in . Closing the gate behind did Eärandil removed the saddle bags, saddle, bit, bridal, and reins. setting all together over the gate since it be a bit easier to re-saddle since he'd be off to the Shire to aid his fellow rangers there. The 65-year old ranger made certain that his horse's two troughs were filled with food and water respectively and while the horse was enjoying the rest-bit did Eärandil groom him before leaving. Parting words were spoken," I'll be back shortly my friend enjoy the food water and rest up for we'll again out and about heading toward the Shire." Then did the ranger depart the stables.

The Courtyard &amp;
Main Hallway or Passage
The weary ranger now made his way again across the courtyard finding it relatively deserted. Within moments did he,Eärandil find himself headed down the ancient stone hall whose interior was lit by a series of torches upon either side all made out ancient steel or black iron brackets. So did the ranger's ash grey eyes spot the archway and door that had to be the tavern; The Four Winds. Opening the door the 65-year old northern d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain stepped inside hearing the sounds of a fire going, drinks being consumed and the general sound of rangers conversing with one another. Nodding his black haired head to all within did Eärandil head for the bar to grab a pint then seek out this </span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span></font>Khallador renew his Oath</font>.....</span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></span>

Beren Camlost
31/Aug/2012, 05:34 AM
http://i1195.photobucket.com/albums/aa393/1dr3am3dadr3am/Others%20Ic&#111;ns%204/Imelda18.jpgImelda Montagna</font>The Courtyard and City</font>
"Busy day ?"Imelda Montagnaasked<b style="line-height: normal; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eärnol</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span>[/b]</span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>jokingly as the gates were opened to allow theRanger to enterthe city of Osdolen ; she would have been at the side of her husband,</span>Thandir, but she hadtried to remain patient in the wain to await the Dúnedain that would help them unload the supply vehicle but, of course, the whole 'sitting there' thing wasn't going to work for her, such a thing never did for the impulsive woman, and so she left the wagon in the ward of her sister,</span>Ursulawho was also a Ranger, and approached the gates of Osdolen.</span></font> Imelda, a descendant of a family of high nobility in Eriador before the collapse of Arnor hundreds of years earlier,was a willowy female of fair patrician beauty and her tilted eyes were hazel ; the jovial Ranger's skin was milk-white and her brown, thin straight hair was arranged in a loose ponytail. She wore reddish-brown leathern battledress armor ;Imelda's longsword was sheathed at her left side and a parrying dagger was holstered upon the opposite, a small pouch of throwing darts was affixed to her weapons belt at the small of her back - she had left her recurve bow, quiver of arrows, and aconitine poison with the rest of her belongingsin the wagon.</font> Imelda Montagna....Army of One....</font> "Imelda, nice to meet you,"she introduced herself to a grey-eyed, older Dú</span>nadan (Eärandil), thrusting forth her hand for him to grasp in greeting,"but you may call me Immy if you like.What's yourname,Ranger? I'm new here, my husband and sister, too.Thandir, my spouse, will be leading a company called the Warders of the Shire in the land of the hobbits ; we'll be working with the halfling Bounders there to keep the peace within the realm whilstHyarionguards its southern border. If you're interested in serving just letThandirknow at the Four Winds if that's where you're going; my husband will spread news of the band's creation there at the tavern. Hopefully word gets around ; those Little People need some help."</span></font> Imeldastrode into the ancient town and she waved at</span>Eärandil, splitting off to the right ; s</span>he nodded her head at a scarred female Ranger (</span>Grath) who walked swiftly passed. That was okay ; she had something to do as well.Immy</span>needed to find an empty home for her family where they could reside when they were posted at this base.</span></font> Suddenly a male grey tabby cat appeared, leaping nimbly down from off one broad marble shoulder of King Celepharn's statueat the head of one deserted, tree-laned streetImeldawas journeying along upon the sidewalk.</font> The stray feline halted on all fours andmeow'ed atImelda, saying hello.</font> "Are you going somewhere special ?"Immyasked the cat conversationally and the grey tabby gave a longer meow this time.Wellllllllll......I dunno.The cat approachedImelda, wagging its tail, and rubbed her ankle tenderly."I'm looking for a house, too,"she divulged, bending to pet the adorable creature."Do you wish to accompany me ?" The cat responded by leaping into the woman's arms.</font> "I'll take that for a yes."She resumed walking beneath the shade of the trees; a summer breeze scattered leaves across her path. "My sister is just going to love you, kitty,"Imeldapromised as the cat purred, nuzzling her throat, as they explored the majestic ruins of the Hidden City.</font></font>*</font>http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigr&#111;nding/bear-3.gif</font>Beren Camlost</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Berensmiled atEmeralda.</font> "We haven't been friends for long yet,<b style="font-style: italic;">Emma[/b],"Camlostpointed out."There's still a lot you don't know about me."</font> He smiled atTelpegond, an Elf from Lindon who would be adventuring with the Rangers ; he spoke to him and Emma both.</font> "I was raised in Rohan though I visited my cousins <b style="font-style: italic;">Jaena [/b]and <b style="font-style: italic;">Khallador [/b]here in Eriador often ; I grew up with a lass named<b style="font-style: italic;">Isolde[/b]and we were close friends.<b style="font-style: italic;">Laila[/b]is her niece. I'm her uncle - by the heart. About our mission though, it seems that the Orcs are investigating the Forochel Bay up north for something. According to history, the Seeing Stones of Arnor were lost in its frozen waters. I think its highly unlikely they'll resurface ; the crystal orbs are probably laying far deep into the icy ocean there in the North but you never know when something will surprisingly turn up and when you least expect it. So we'll have to stop the Orcs from theMisty Mountains from snooping around and push them back into that range where they belong. Hopefully none of them have the bright idea to go run amock further south into northern Eriador but if they are feeling lucky we'll make them aware they are definitely unlucky. If you know what I mean."</font> Berengestured to the brown-haired girl sitting next to him.</font> "That'sEmeralda,Telpegond; a local girl who's taken the Oath of Service. Her father was a Dúnadan once upon a time and she wants to honor his memory be being a Ranger herself."</font> Since he already knewLaila,Berenpointed across the room to the fierce-looking, muscularhuman speaking with the scarred female mortal (Grath).</font> "That man with the green eyes and fedora is a Ranger,Khallador, my kinsman ;he'sthe highest-ranking Dúnadanhere at this outpost andour Chieftain's lieutenant of Osdolen ; we have a cousin namedJaenabut she's not here at the Hidden City today.</font> Berennodded his chin at the man with the limp behind the bar who was preparing a stew forLaila.</font> "That'sCallandil; he's a veteran and the tavern-keeper. Brews the bestsfearsome cider in the North, lemme tell you !"</font> Berengave his attention toLailawho embraced him ; hesoftly slid his palm overLaila's flaxen hair whenhis niece pecked his cheek. He was joyful that his friend was here ; it felt wonderful to be reunited with this child again. Her blood wasn't his own but she would always be family to him, the daughter he never had.BerenletLaila straighten up on her seat ; injuredCamlostsettled his spine against the back of his chair.</font> "You've grown a few inches,Laila,"Berenconceded even though that wasn't true ; it wascertainlymore than that,"but I doubt you'll be as tall asIssy, you know."</font> A little white lie ; he just felt like giving the invisibleIsolde,Laila's aunt and hislongtime friend, some recognition of greatness.</font> "You don't listen to anyone much, dear,"Berenriposted toLaila, restraining a grin, and the youth agreed ; as she spoke, he reached for her pack on the floor without asking and began rummaging through it, muttering,"You brought something for me, right ?"with the gleeof a seven year-oldwhose parent just came home from a long trip and just might have a few souvenirs.</font> Unfortunately,Lailadidn't bring anything from their homeland for him ; he looked at her like a disappointed dog who wasn't given a squeaky toy. He smiled as she relayedIsolde's message.</font> "Send her back my love, too, when you're in the green country again, okay ?"He asked with with a melancholy undertone ; he missed his friend who dwelt so many leagues away."And ask her if she would like to visit here sometime ; I'm always dropping by Swanholme, you know !"Berenlaughed, merry again."Besides,"he added with a shrug of his shoulders,"that kid of hers would love a change of scenery ; every child needs to get out sometimes, right ?"</font> Bearlooked approvinglyatLaila; she had accomplished that well.</font> "As for as getting out of trouble, that's impossible,Laila,"Berenhedged and barked a laugh ; he brushed aside blonde hair from his niece's cheek."I'm a Ranger of the North ; it's my job to find trouble and eradicate it,"he said quietly, now crossing his arms over the table's surface."I will promise not to get myself killed though,"he vowed toLailawith a wink.</font> He chuckled aboutGrim."That man's scowl is as permanent as the change of the seasons, doll,"Berenjoked ; Grimmwas...a verygrimman but he loved him ;Bearalmost chortled imagining stone-facedGrimwithhis pipe outside of Swanholme leaning against the porch railing and demanding, after blowing a smoke ring her way, thatLailatellBerenthat he'd like towish him the best luck in whatever crazy enterprise he was engaged in....and of course he would have causually infused that sentence with a few expletives that he wouldn't dare use ifIssywas on the spot. And probably would have added thatCamlostbetter look over his shoulder orGrimwouldthrash him....it was a good thingGrimmdidn't know about whatVani's needlepoint expertise had done to his leg....yet, anyways.</font> "Well, you're in for a good treat,Laila,"Berenassuredhis nieceabout the Sparrow Theatre,"this isn't a puppet show you'll be having the pleasure to attend! Hey..."he leaned toward her and said in a hushed voice :"I haven't acted in a dozen years at that place or any other stage ; I might forget my lines so if you need to laugh, don't be too loud about it, alright ? Wouldn't want to embarrass me worse, would you ?"Bear was rather confident he wouldn't but it had been a few months sinceCamlost amused the teenager.</font> Berenslowly grinned asLailasaid determinedly that she'd have a mug of Tubeng."This is your first drink,Laila?"Berenasked,"Or have Issy,Mangus, andOdoalready corrupted you ?"</font> Berenchuckled and, with only a moment of reluctance, handed his golden-haired niece the tankard of cider.</font> "It tastes just like apple juice,Laila,"He commented,"just with a little -"he held his thumb and index barely a space apart"- kick to it."</font> When she grasped the tall cup,Berenreached for the waste bin.</font> "Going to put this right near you,Tiger,"Berensaid, grey eyes bright, "just in case you puke ; I don't think you will but it's better tobe safe than sorry.Callandilmight just ask you to clean up what you threw up." </font> He paused with a roguish grin.</font> "All of it,Laila. Til it's emptied. I. Triple. Dog. Dare. You."</font> He said it. This was the point of no return ;dog dares were ultimate challengesamong youthsher age that were surely impossible to pass up without appearing like a total coward. Beren, Laila's usuallylighthearted uncle whose inner child hadn't vanished yet completely,had skipped over the first dog dare and had bypassed the second - utilized just in case a person failed toaccept the first - and went straight to the triple ; Lailawould have to agree or look like a chicken to him. And she was an Alarion ; Laila couldn't sully the family reputation, of course.</font> "And don't worry ; I'll take you with me. I'll have toequip you a sword of some sort before we leave Osdolen withHalbarad. Bow and arrows, too. Couple of daggers, maybe ?"</font> Beren's newtone and words had become serious ; he rarely had ever talked to her this way before.</font> "HaveIssy, yourcousins, andLegolintaught you how to defend yourself while I've beenaway ? All young women of Rohan are instructed around your age just in case of the worst."</font> He closed his eyes once ;Berenwished he could have been there to help instructLaila....he hated not being able to be in two places at once. He was missing the best parts of her life, the ones that would forge into being the person she would become. He hopedLailawould visit often now if Issy didn't mind; when he would inevitably pass away,Berenwanted to leave something behind inLaila's life. Something positively impacting. </font> "I haven't been able to teach you beforebut now I'll be able to see how well your metal is tested in the flames. It's time for you to show me,Laila, just how excellently you've trained. There's a couple of things I don't think you can exactly be prepared for until you've been through the crucible yourself though,Laila. Fighting and being hunted, for example. You've never had anyone die in your arms either."</font> His strong, calloused hand gently touched her white, smooth one ; his palm layed over hers on the table. Hisspeech was spokensotto voce but but his greyeyes were like stones, hard.</font> "There are a lot of things I don't tell you or anyone else,Laila. I haven't had all fun and games in my errantries; I mean it," Berenadmitted and the strength of his hand firmed around her own as he spoke. "I've been a part of victories butsome of those were hard-won ; I've been a part of defeats, too. I've seen so much pain in so many places. So many heartaches and so many dirty things....you can't believe. Yet."</font> He paused, letting his mysterious revelation of the terrible experienceshe had witnessed in his adventures and the possibity of what she might herself encounterin her own quests in the future sink in ; one day he would tell her abouta fewofthose journeys.</font> Maybe all.</font> "Extreme places,Laila,"Berensaid clearly and looked into his niece's eyes, "You're about to see the oliphaunt and it'sgoing to be dangerous,"Berenuttered to his niece, continuing,"There will be killings. Only monsters this time, not men, but that does something to you. Taking a life. The Orcs will try to rob you of your own. Don't think you're invincible. If I can get hurt so can you but I will do everything in my power to protect your back."</font> He said no more for the moment but his silent promise was sworn with such intensity it wouldn't be so strange if his friendIsoldeherself heard his vow from afar: "I'll returnLailato you,Issy. Safe and sound. I swear it. Trust me, freond min."</font>
</font>*</font></font>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> Khallador approached the bar now that his business with Lutra's daughter and Lokhi was concluded.</font> "Could I have a glass of water, Callandil ?" Khallador requested of his older friend. "With plenty of ice if you don't mind opening the cold storage."</font> He leaned against the edge of the counter as Callandil, who appeared so professionallyserene as so many people asked him from orders (among them, his cousin Beren and a grey-eyed, dark-haired man [Eärandil] ) and heturned his gaze, hearing a green-eyed woman (Emora) ask, after a deep breath - it was a recruit ; Khallador knew them when he saw them - if she could have have a meeting with Khallador.</font> "Speak the</font>Orthoror's name and he shall appear," Khallador mentioned to the woman wryly ; his voice wassoft-spoken which might seem peculiar to her due to his rugged and fierce mien and the strength of his powerfully-built physique. He reaching for her hand to clasp in greeting. "I'm guessing you'd like to take the Oath ? I'm the man to speak to as you must have heard."</span></font>
</span></font>*</span></font>
</span></font>http://i1195.photobucket.com/albums/aa393/1dr3am3dadr3am/Others%20Ic&#111;ns%203/Thandir2.jpg
</font>Thandir</font>The Four Winds</font>
</font> "Well, I never met him before, Red," Thandir revealed when Cara asked him where Khallador was and forgetting that the young woman didn't like the 'Red ' monicker ; that was probably going to happen a lot though and certainly his wife, Imelda, who was evenmore jocularthan he was and had a penchant for nicknaming people, would probably address Cara as that even more.</font> "I've only heard about him though," he added as he looked the establishment over with Cara, walking aimlessly in lockstep. He smiled ; Cara was comfortable to hang around.</font> "He's a loner. And a mighty fighter though he almost got killed in Bree not too long ago in contest with a murderess ; some of the Rangers say Khallador has a long scar on his chest from that conflict he almost lost. KhalladorisAragorn's left-hand man. His right being Halbarad, of course." </font> He gestured at the famous Dúnadan who was rallying people to his cause ; they needed to stop Orcs from patrolling the Forochel Ice Bay because they were most likely searching for submerged Seeing Stones and their presence would disrupt the peaceful existence of the native Lossoth.</font> "Head over to the bar, Cara ; you may find him there. I'll see you ; as soon as Halbarad is done talking I need to spread the word about the Warders of the Shire." </font> He gave her a departing nod and went to stand near Halbarad's side.</font>
</font>http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/6796/khalladoric&#111;n.gif</font>Khallador</font>The Four Winds</font>
"Are you looking for me, too, mate ?" Khallador asked the silver-eyed, raven-haired man (Eärandil) who had ordered a pint from Callandil.</font> "And you, miss ?" the man in the green duster-coat questioned the redhead (Cara) who was stepping close to where he stood.</font> "How about all of you gather into a line for me ?" Khallador beseeched, hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed longsword as he accepted a glass of ice water from Callandil with his free hand. His viridian eyes watched the three of them arranged themselves in a line quickly as he took a long sip of his beverage.</font> "New recruits. Courage and determination, that's good ; you'll need both in the times ahead," Khallador remarked as he put aside his glass on the bar's counter. "And you'll need more than that in your battles for sure, but I have the utmost faith that all of you will perform above and beyond the call of duty in whatever crisis each of you find yourselves in. Now repeat the words of the Oath I will recite but know that this vow is binding and sacred. When it is done, all of you will be Gwaedhors of the Dúnedain and can begin your training at Maenorthrond, the ancient practice facility in the Weather Hills ; you may join any quest while you continue honing your skills there though."</font> Khallador paused for a few moments than began to speak, his tone clear and resonating and solemn : " 'I<i style="line-height: 19px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">am a Ranger of the North[/i].</span><i style="line-height: 19px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur for this day and all my days in the name of holy Manwë, the first of all Kings, this vow I swear.' "[/i]</font>










































Edited by: The Eleventh Doctor

Angelikus Snape
31/Aug/2012, 06:59 AM
Emora
The Four Winds

Just as Emora was about to start to drink, a soft-spoken man introduced himself to her. It was a good thing, for Emora at least, that this man was soft-spoken. If not, she would have thrown away such perfectly brewed beer. As she saw the man that she was looking for (Khallador), her jaw dropped to the floor. She can easily tell that this man is strong and possibly the years of service as a Ranger was shown in his rugged mein. Emora was quite amazed at the demeanor of this man. She always thought that Rangers were strict and rigid people who scares the wits of those who doesn't know them. They had such a bad reputation, being called "Dangerous folk" and yet to see someone as soft spoken as he is, made Emora think differently about the organization that she was going to get herself in.

As Khallador extended his hand for Emora to clasp in greeting, she felt all the more comfortable. It appears that finally, Emora found a place where she truly belonged. She also held out her hand to clasp Khallador's extended hand in greeting before finally saying, "Yes Sir! I wish to take the oath and it is an honor to meet you." as soon as the pleasantries were over, Khallador invited what seemed like a silver-eyed, raven-haired man (Eärandil). He also called a lady with red hair (Cara). He then asked for all of them to stand in a line and recite the oath. This was it, the moment that she was looking for, once she had recited this oath, she would begin her life as a Ranger. She had been waiting for this moment and once it was her turn to speak the oath, with a clear and melodic voice, she said:

</font> 'I<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 19px; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">am a Ranger of the North[/i].</span><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 19px; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">I
walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge,
and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my
dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which
burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian
of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of
Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of
Isildur for this day and all my days in the name of holy Manwë, the first of all Kings, this vow I swear.' "[/i]</font>

Her oath done, Emora was finally relieved. She can now consider herself as a Ranger of the North. She knows that her life from now on will never be the same. She knows that this life would be tough, but in the end, this was something that she wanted to do and was glad that she did it.</font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
31/Aug/2012, 04:35 PM
Eärandil(Sea-Friend) son of Eärvir(Sea-Jewel)

Ranger of the North
The Four Winds

The 65-year old northern d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain did not have to wait long for the ranger called Khallador.The man was garbed after the fashion of their surviving folk and spoke his voice yet soft but firm greeting he, then a laith pretty young woman (Emora). Eärandil listened to the younger of his race rattle on about the Oath they were about to swear and how they'd become Gwaedhors of the Dúnedain and that they'd train at another refuge called Maenorthrond. Then did the lad Khallador recite the Oath his soft voice being clear, solemn, and resolute for both he and the young lady (Emora) that he'd moved over to stand beside.

</span>Eärandil then listened to the young lady speak her voice cool as slow flowing stream that also had a melodic quality too. Then was it time for the middle aged d</font></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font>únedain to turn speak and so did he take a deep breath filling his lungs with air. Then exhaling slowly did the 65-year old raise his weathered face to stare at Khallador his ash grey eyes burning brightly even in the faint illumination of the tavern's hearth and smattering of lit candles. Thus when </span>Eärandil began to speak his deep bass voice low, solemn, and carried a hint of pride,

</span>"I</font><i style="line-height: 19px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">am a Ranger of the North[/i].</span><i style="line-height: 19px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I
walk in the shadowy places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge,
and no one may pass. Now begins my watch and it shall not end until my
dying day. I am the protector of the North and I carry that fire which
burns against the cold ; I am the watcher of the mountains, the guardian
of the hills, the eyes of the forests, I am the shield of the realms of
Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of
Isildur for this day and all my days in the name of holy Manwë, the first of all Kings, this vow I[/i]</font></font>, Eärandil son of Eärvir swear."

As he spoke these final words the ragged middle aged man suddenly felt that he himself was or seemed slightly younger, for he stood straight and tall being 6 foot and 5 inches, his somber attire clinging to his lean and muscular frame like polished armor worn by their kin in days of the ancient past. Turning to his weathered face to new ranger did Eärandil speak up in polite curt tone, " My lady congrats for you are now a Ranger." " I'm honored to have you fight for those whose blood is that of the Elendili the 'faithful' of ancient Númenor." </span>The ranger then gave both her and Khallador a short bow of respect. Then did Eärandil wait patiently for the new female ranger to introduce herself.</span>

OOC: Aig I know where this oath comes from. That being the book and TV series Game of Thrones being the Oath of the order of the Night's Watch.smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley4.gif For here is the oath since I memorized it to heart; Directly from the 1st book of the Game of Thrones by George Martin: "Hear my words and bear witness to my vow, " Night gathers and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife,hold no lands, father no children. I shall hold no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post I am the Watcher on the Walls I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn the wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of Men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch for this night and all the nights to come."smileys/smiley2.gif</font>
</span>





Edited by: Hallas C. Pehwarin

Rainelle Hérandil
01/Sep/2012, 12:55 AM
Starya
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/6778951934_af50466020_t.jpg
</font>
Inside </font>the Stable
Starya smiled as she held the tiny puppy. It licked her hand lightly with its tiny little tongue, making her giggle a little. She looked back up at Dinenol when he was talking to her about naming the puppy. She was a little surprised when he told her another name he was known as. "Foe slayer?" She asked, her head tipping to the side. "Is it because you slew a lot of foes and stuff?" She asked, curious. What sorts of foes would he have slayed? Dragons? Orcs? Other monsters?

Her attention was distracted from those questions when he mentioned maybe naming it after someone she used to know. She immediately thought of her parents, but she didn't know if the puppy was a boy or a girl, so she'd need to find that out first. And then he reminded her they had to stay with their mommy. "Oh yeah! I know that." She said. "They gotta get strong and healthy and learn how to walk and stuff." She said, smiling. But she couldn't wait for the puppies to be big enough to walk and run and stuff!</font>


Cára </font>and Abrazân</font>
http://www.stmivani.eu/gallery/1232327745_5940_full.jpghttp://www.delta1securitycoventry.co.uk/images/Dog%20Handlers%20Coventry.jpg

</font>Four Winds, standing by the bar/counter

</font>Cára listened as Thandir explained that he'd never met Khallador. She looked around the room, studying the occupants, listening while he spoke of what he'd heard of the man, and then suggested she head toward the bar. "Alright, thank you. Perhaps once I've taken the oath, I may join you on your mission."</font> She told him, then nodded a goodbye to him when he parted from her to speak with Halbarad.

She had already spotted Khallador standing at the bar, though she hadn't confirmed it yet. Based on what Thandir said of him, she was almost certain that the rugged looking man in the fedora and duster coat was Khallador, though why anyone would wear a coat in this heat was beyond her. Although, if he had a scar on his chest, it was possible he wore certain clothing to cover it, but she still didn't see why he would need the coat.

She approached, Abrazân at her heels as usual. Before she could speak, he had already acknowledged her and guessed what her purpose was. 'He's good.' She thought, </font>rather impressed. And she wasn't along in taking the oath, either. She stood quietly, thinking over the words he had said for them to repeat. She let the other two speak first, choosing to go last. She gave a light tap on the dog's back with one hand and he sat down, tail wagging slightly. "Khallador, correct? I'm here to take the oath of the rangers." </font>She stated, though he must already know that. "My name is </font></font>Cára </font> Laisar... I am a Ranger of the North. I walk in the shadowy places no others will enter."</font> She began the oath, placing a hand over her heart, looking the man straight in the eye, her chin held high.

"I stand on the bridge, and no one may pass. Now begins my watch, and it shall not end until my dying day. I am the protector of the North, and I carry that fire with burns against the cold; I am the water of the mountains, the guardian of the hills, and the eyes of the forests. I am the shield of the realms of Eriador. I pledge my life and honor to the Dúnedain and the Heir of Isildur, for this day and all my days in the name of Holy Manwë, the first of all Kings. This vow, I swear."</font> She finished, feeling the weight and sincerity of this noble oath settle in her heart, figuratively speaking. She would serve the Dunedain and the Heir of Isildur to the best of her ability, never breaking this oath as long as she lived.</font><i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 19px; : rgb255, 255, 255; ">[/i]</font>


Cánë Laisar </font>
http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e238/lukecedric/My%20Background/Hotties/avi.jpg

Osdolen's Library</font>

Canë walked through the aisles of the library, feeling a sense of awe. He couldn't get enough of books and scrolls, and just.. knowledge in general. He had never known there was a library in Osdolen, nor would he have expected there to be such an extensive stash of books hidden away in here. He wished Cara had come with him, so he could express his excitement to her. But then, he doubted she would have much interest with it anyway. She tended to prefer outdoor things, and getting her hands dirty. She'd prefer to dig up worms while Cane would rather study them to learn all about their inner body structure and workings and such.

He ventured out of that aisle of bookshelves, and found himself near the center of the library, where there was a circular area with desks for sitting at and reading, studying and such. There were lots of candles burning, and if it weren't for the fact of needing lights to read, Cane would have thought it not a good idea to have so many candles near these precious, easily burned, books and scrolls. But luckily, there was </font>also </font>a big beautiful window facing the Northeast, which let it a lot of light during the day. Cane stood at the edge of this 'clearing' in the bookshelves, and looked around. It seemed so empty in here, he found it strange on the one hand, that hardly anyone would have interest in coming here, but not that strange on the other hand, since no one hardly ever wanted to spend their time studying. At least it was cool in here out of the hot sun, which was good for the books' sakes.</font>

Emeralda</font>
http://i954.photobucket.com/albums/ae25/Moriannathegothicvampire/Other/Ic&#111;ns/emma.jpg</font>

Four Winds</font>
Emma smiled a little at Beren when he reminded her they hadn't known each other that long. "Oh yes, that's right, I sort of forgot. Seems like we've known each other a bit longer than we have, with all the bandits and things we've fought.. and of course, being injured together."</font> She said with a small smirk. She'd known his cousin Khallador, who was currently hearing three new recruits give their oaths, a longer time than she had known Beren, considering he was the first ranger, besides her father, whom she had met, and he had been the one to bring her into their ranks. She actually considered Khallador a closer friend than Beren, but she was friendly, or at least tried to be friendly, to everyone around here.

She listened while Beren spoke about the mission, nodding slightly. She would like to help with that, but she wasn't certain that she would be completely over this injury by the time they set out. She would definitely try to be better by then but she couldn't really rush that sort of thing. Her thoughts went to her mother, back in the Chetwood, and hoped that everything was alright with her, and that she wasn't worrying too much about Emma. She was only halfway listening to Beren talking with his niece Laila, but she couldn't help shaking her head a little when she heard Beren daring the young girl to drink the Tubeng. "You're a bad influence, you know that Beren?"</font> She said, lightly teasing and smirking faintly. Since her attention had returned to them when Beren mentioned getting Laila some weapons, Emma spoke up again, not wanting to interrupt but just wanting to make the offer, "I can get you set up with a bow and arrows, if you need them. I run the archery range here in Osdolen..</font>" She spoke in a soft, gentle tone. She missed practicing with her bow, but her shoulder injury wouldn't allow her to practice until it was well.

After that, she kept quiet and tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, since it seemed like a sort of private thing between the two of them. She would have thought of it as a father / daughter type conversation, except that Laila wasn't actually his daughter. Either way, she didn't want to listen in, so when he began to talk to her in a serious manner, she quietly excused herself from the table, saying she'd remembered something she needed to do outside. She decided to see Ellerina, her horse, and maybe bring her a treat. She could also see if there might be anyone at the archery range. Maybe there was someone needing assistance. She could always find something to do.
</font>

Angelikus Snape
03/Sep/2012, 04:59 AM
Emora</font>Four Winds</font>
</font>As Emora was listening and observing those who are taking the oath after her, a man (Eärandil) congratulated her for she had now become one of them, a Ranger of the North. Aside from that, he was proud to have her fight for her own race for she was a 'faithful' also she was still young, only being a meager age of 22. As she listened to what this man had to say, she was nervous. She didn't even know what she could offer as a Ranger of the North and yet here he was, already talking about how he is proud to have Emora fight.</font>
</font>With a sigh to try and get her confidence back, she said, with respect to the man, "Thank you for congratulating me and thinking of me with such high regard. To be quite honest, I do not know if my skills can match up to my position yet and I'm not really sure what I can offer the Rangers of the North, now that I think of it. My name is Emora by the way. And you are?" She then waited the response of this man, hoping that she had not said too much. One thing's for sure though, after this whole business is through, she would have to train at the Ranger's training grounds...</font>

Caran Chamion
05/Sep/2012, 08:53 PM
Telpëgond</font>
The Four Winds

Beren was obviously an old veteran among the Dunedain. Telpëgond wished he had met him before, but the elf had not had much contact with the Dunedain over the past fifty years or so. That was one reason why he was glad to be here now.
He stood to one side while Beren warned Laila about the dangers and hardships the rangers faced. </font></font>Telpëgond</font> knew all about those, a thousand and more years in the Wild gave one plenty of experience. </font></font>He hoped the girl would prove herself worthy in the upcoming quest. There were always unexpected dangers.
Suddenly, listening to Beren and Laila, Telpëgond</font> remembered something: a memory long buried, triggered by the mention of the north. He slipped his dirk from its sheath and proffered the handle to Laila so she could look at the blade. "This is an elf-forged weapon, forged by expert craftsmen of Rivendell. You might not ever expect to gain a weapon of this quality, but on our quest to the north, you should keep an eye out for other swords and knives. If, by some strange chance, the palantiri from Arvedui's ship are accessible to land creatures once more, some of the weapons from the ship may be there as well. If they were forged like this dirk, they won't have rusted even in the cold waters all these years. You may obtain an almost priceless weapon there."






Edited by: Sonic Screwdriver

Mar Fireblade Mordagnir
05/Sep/2012, 10:29 PM
http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5183/5672541379_fc5d0cde68_t.jpg</font>http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5964982618_5352840f1b_t.jpg</span>
Gwaedhor
Dínenôl Foeslayer
</span></font>Courtyard</span></font>

Dinenol felt the tips of his ears burn a little. Coughing a little, he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I never really though I killed a lot of enemies, but before I came to Osdolen and took up the Oath of the Rangers again, I wandered the lands a lot. I had to fend for myself. I didn't have Nienna back then." He reached down to stroke the hound's head. "Mostly I had to fight wild animals. Bears, wolves, that sort of thing. Once I was even attacked by a troll. It was really stupid, though, and I managed to get away. Fighting a troll is generally a bad idea, particularly if you are alone. They are not easy to bring down, unless you can manage to keep them busy until the sun comes up. Sunlight turns them to stone, you know. And, of course, I have fought orcs before, and general villains who decide to cause some trouble." He felt himself starting to zone out, what with all that reminiscence. Jerking himself back to the present, he continued softly, "But it is not all glory and valor. I've seldom been on a proper battlefield, and there is never any good feeling during fights like that. Even after a battle is over, even if you won it, you look and see the pain your fellow warriors are in, and you almost think that winning the battle -- no matter how important it is -- cost too great a price." He smiled faintly and patted her head. "You have a long childhood ahead of you before you need worry about stuff like that. I remember being your age and eager to grow up and become a man, but once you do grow up all you can think about is how much you missed as a child." He felt awkward, having said so much in one go, but somehow this child brought something out of him that no one else had been able to do.</font>