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Earendil Halfelven · 06-19-2003, 12:57 PM

They started to follow the company out of the city but Baroden stopped.

"Aren't we going to follow them?" Turthôl asked.

"Yes, but I have an idea. Come, follow me," Baroden replied. Even though the Haradrim cloak covered his face, Turthôl knew that he was smiling underneath it.

Baroden turned around and headed back to the nearest inn.

"We need some 'reinforcements' if you know what I mean," Baroden said.

Entering the inn, Turthôl was glad that they drew no suspicious stares. Their disguises were working. They seated themselves near some particularly mean looking men. After ordering some ale, Baroden struck up a conversation with the men.

"Have you men seen some foriegners head through here? They are led by a blond man. They are from Gondor," Baroden asked.

"Who's asking?" one man asked.

"Two soldiers from Umbar seeking some Gondorian runaways. They are seeking the Seer."

At the mention of "Gondorian runaways" and the Seer, several swarthy men looked up.

"Yeah, we saw them. They were in here asking about the Seer."

"What do they want with the Seer?" another asked.

"I don't know, but let's just say that if they reach the Seer, Harad is in danger of invasion from Gondor. They used you men to know where the Seer is."

The ale and what Baroden said worked its magic. Several men started yelling and saying how they need to track down the villians and kill them before they did their damage. One big man seemed to take the leadership.

"Yeah, let's go! To the Seer and to the death of the Gondorians! For Harad!"

Baroden was glad to see 15 men brandishing swords cheer and follow the big man, who was named Alamar. Alamar looked at Baroden and Turthôl and said,"Follow us, soldiers of Umbar. We'll take you to the Seer and we'll do your job for you!"

Baroden, Turthôl, Alamar, and 15 angry Haradrim headed out after Rangar and Co. They were only 2 hours behind.
_____________________________________________

That night, as they made camp and rested, Turthôl stared up into the sky. Fleeting thoughts invaded his mind but before he could grab a hold of them, they were gone. He had a feeling that they were his memories that he had forgotten. They were trying to come back. He began to drift into an uneasy sleep.

"Don't be bitter about your destiny. Few can change theirs, but you can always make the best of it." Goldrim had said jokingly.
"That's easy for you to say. You're going to live forever in a place few can imagine...a place few can go except for those of Elven decent. For us mortals, we must die after all we've done for this world. Haven't the Dúnedain earned their chance to live and see the Valar, as our fathers of old, the Númenóreans, had done?" Turthôl replied.
"That, my friend, is a question you should not be asking me." Goldrim said again.
"Well, you can ask the Valar for me when you get to Valinor..." Turthôl began but Goldrim interrupted him.
"Turthôl, you should not have these thoughts. You are a Dúnedain; you have great responsibility for these people. Middle-Earth belongs to you now. The Elves are fading into the West. We shall all be gone and forgotten soon.

His eyes shot open again. What was that? he thought. A memory from long ago. He struggled do to bring it back but it began to fade...Dúnedain...Ranger...Rangar

Then, without warning, a realization burst into his mind.

"I am a Ranger of the Dúnedain."

06-19-2003, 12:57 PM	#223
Earendil Halfelven Wight Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: the dark recesses of the mind Posts: 223	They started to follow the company out of the city but Baroden stopped. "Aren't we going to follow them?" Turthôl asked. "Yes, but I have an idea. Come, follow me," Baroden replied. Even though the Haradrim cloak covered his face, Turthôl knew that he was smiling underneath it. Baroden turned around and headed back to the nearest inn. "We need some 'reinforcements' if you know what I mean," Baroden said. Entering the inn, Turthôl was glad that they drew no suspicious stares. Their disguises were working. They seated themselves near some particularly mean looking men. After ordering some ale, Baroden struck up a conversation with the men. "Have you men seen some foriegners head through here? They are led by a blond man. They are from Gondor," Baroden asked. "Who's asking?" one man asked. "Two soldiers from Umbar seeking some Gondorian runaways. They are seeking the Seer." At the mention of "Gondorian runaways" and the Seer, several swarthy men looked up. "Yeah, we saw them. They were in here asking about the Seer." "What do they want with the Seer?" another asked. "I don't know, but let's just say that if they reach the Seer, Harad is in danger of invasion from Gondor. They used you men to know where the Seer is." The ale and what Baroden said worked its magic. Several men started yelling and saying how they need to track down the villians and kill them before they did their damage. One big man seemed to take the leadership. "Yeah, let's go! To the Seer and to the death of the Gondorians! For Harad!" Baroden was glad to see 15 men brandishing swords cheer and follow the big man, who was named Alamar. Alamar looked at Baroden and Turthôl and said,"Follow us, soldiers of Umbar. We'll take you to the Seer and we'll do your job for you!" Baroden, Turthôl, Alamar, and 15 angry Haradrim headed out after Rangar and Co. They were only 2 hours behind. _____________________________________________ That night, as they made camp and rested, Turthôl stared up into the sky. Fleeting thoughts invaded his mind but before he could grab a hold of them, they were gone. He had a feeling that they were his memories that he had forgotten. They were trying to come back. He began to drift into an uneasy sleep. "Don't be bitter about your destiny. Few can change theirs, but you can always make the best of it." Goldrim had said jokingly. "That's easy for you to say. You're going to live forever in a place few can imagine...a place few can go except for those of Elven decent. For us mortals, we must die after all we've done for this world. Haven't the Dúnedain earned their chance to live and see the Valar, as our fathers of old, the Númenóreans, had done?" Turthôl replied. "That, my friend, is a question you should not be asking me." Goldrim said again. "Well, you can ask the Valar for me when you get to Valinor..." Turthôl began but Goldrim interrupted him. "Turthôl, you should not have these thoughts. You are a Dúnedain; you have great responsibility for these people. Middle-Earth belongs to you now. The Elves are fading into the West. We shall all be gone and forgotten soon. His eyes shot open again. What was that? he thought. A memory from long ago. He struggled do to bring it back but it began to fade...Dúnedain...Ranger...Rangar Then, without warning, a realization burst into his mind. "I am a Ranger of the Dúnedain." __________________ In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos.