Treachery of Men RPG

[littlemanpoet]

Lachrandir sat at table, Tathren to his right, Uldor to his left. The chair was too short in the legs, forcing Lachrandir to stretch his long legs out beneath the table. He was gratified that all gathered sat on the outsides of the tables, the walls to their backs, so that the servants had free hand to serve them from the front; there would be no competition for the space his legs needed.

It was a beastly dark place, even with lamps scattered here and there throughout the room. The tapestries hanging from the walls all around the room were rough and colorless, rank with the stench of the animal skins from which they were taken.

The pavilion of that Borrim emissary had not been so barbaric. What was his name? Kaldir? No, too Elvish. Something with less grace. Khandir? Yes, that must have been it. The man had had a silver tongue in his mouth - for a mortal. More so than these Ulfings - but then that was crediting these bowlegged mongrels too well, for none of the clan, not even their sire, had put more than a few sentences together in his presence.

Where was their sire? He should be here as host. Or was he the host at all? Was he a mere figurehead? Or not even that? - for if a figurehead then he would at least be present for the sake of appearances.

Uldor, the eldest, sitting next to Lachrandir, was no less hideous of face and feature than his brothers and the entire clan. And that seemingly permanent sneering scowl spoke not well at all. Apparently, the boor thought rather well of himself for some reason; but he seemed preoccupied, his fool's eye wandering as if he were looking for someone he missed; his sire?

"Master Uldor, where is your lord?"

[Nogrod]

Fastarr was already coming to his tent when he realised he had forgotten to ask for a portion of his salary from Khandr. It had been due for a few days already but as Fastarr still had some coins in his pouch he hadn’t felt any urge to go on reminding Khandr about it. But he’d need to buy new boots anyway, hopefully tomorrow, and there was not enough in his purse for them.

So he turned around and headed back to Khandr’s residence hoping his master would not have pulled off to sleep already.

Coming to the hallway he first met with the servant Hugo.

“So master Fastarr forgot the keys to his tent then?” Hugo flashed a smile. Fastarr chuckled.

“Don’t forget I may still mention this deal of ours to lord Khandr…” Fastarr replied smiling but then went to speak his his mind. “But really… Do you know if lord Khandr has already retired for today or whether he’s still awake? I’d need to have a word with him”.

Hugo gave Fastarr an arching look. “If you’re going to discuss with him about my extended duties to brush also the retainers on daily basis I might not be in the mood of telling you…” He waited to see Fastarr’s expression and then shrugged his shoulders and said in a complaining voice. “All right, all right, it’s the duty of a servant to do what their masters bid – even if it will mean trouble to themselves…” He was about to turn away when Fastarr took hold of his shoulder.

“Oh, you old clown! Now show me a decent smile and tell me whether Khandr is awake or not? I know my way to his room so you don’t need to stress your old feet.”

“The problem is…” Hugo answered, “…that I don’t know. He wrote a letter or something a while ago. I know it as Grogr went to deliver it just a while ago. I need to take a quiet look at it. Sit down there in the main hall, there should be a jug of mead there. It’s mine..." here Hugo blushed a little, "but help yourself with it until I come back. We’ll have a toast then if he’s asleep as I think he is.”

Fastarr walked to the hall where they had had their dinner with the elves just a short while ago. Everything was tidy and clean like there had been no party that day. You’re a wonder-man Hugo, Fastarr thought to himself and let his eyes wander around the hall. New logs had been added to the fireplace and they burnt brightly. There was a comfortable chair beside the fireplace and a jug of mead was placed on the low table right next to it.

Oh… so this is how the mice celebrate when the cat’s dozing off? Fastarr smiled and sat to the chair. He took a long draught of the cold mead and went to his thoughts about the discussions of the day.

Suddenly he felt that someone was watching him. He turned his head to see Embla at the door staring at him with an empty look in her eyes. She looked perplexed with something, sad in a way. Fastarr rose up from the chair confused and bowed to her.

“Please my lady, take the seat. I’m just waiting for…” He swallowed the rest of his words. He knew that the relationship between Embla and Khandr was not the happiest one and to start to babble everything from how Hugo was checking if Khandr was still awake and how he had been asked by Hugo to sit there to consume the mead and everything would make him look like a moron.

There was something in Embla that made Fastarr uncomfortable everytime they were in the same company. Her presence seemed always to stir the same reaction in him. She reminded him of Aud, his former wife. They had something in common not only in what came to the looks of the two but they were also of the same Bairka-clan both of them and thence their demeanor and the way they carried themselves and spoke were very similar as well.

That memory was a bittersweet one. He really had loved her wife – and in a way still did even she was the treacherous woman she had been and was. There was the pain of the lost children, the pain of being betrayed, the pain of his own anger leading to the death of a man… but also the love and affection which it was easy for Fastarr to project to Embla. And she was a beautiful young lady, only ten years younger than him so that would be perfect… but she was his lord’s wife and that would settle it. That was what he had always thought to fight the devils from his dreams.

“Please my lady… Are you allright?” Fastarr looked at Embla who was clearly shaking. “Is there anything I can do?” He was about to take a step towards her but thought better of it and waited for her to answer first.

[Lalaith]

Embla stared, bewildered, into the large honest face of the man before her. For years, her only relations with her fellow creatures had been stiff and stilted at best, unpleasant and bitter at worst. Now twice in the space of an hour, she had, seemingly, been offered warmth, sympathy and understanding.

She struggled to regain that protective layer of sullen bile she had adopted as a Borrim wife - but it refused to reassemble itself. She was still raw and sensitive, after the strange sensations she had experienced during her encounter with Jord. This newly-found Sight was painful to her – it was not a gift, but a burden.

She felt it again as she looked at Fastarr. Her last encounter with this fellow had been just a couple of hours earlier, when he had trodden on her robe and she had hissed an insult at him. Apart from the pleasure she had derived from his discomfiture, she had thought little about the incident, or about the man himself. Now she saw and felt things so fiercely that they hurt and confused her. From the large hunter before her, she sensed difficult memories...of hurt, murderous rage....and above all, regret.

Embla did not experience any of the strange fascination that had held her in thrall when she spoke to Jord. The sympathetic overtures of this clumsy man, and even his hidden unhappiness, felt altogether more genuine, more wholesome. Nonetheless, she tried very hard to work her expression back into its usual haughty smirk.

“No, I....you.....I don’t know.....I am frightened,” she blurted. And, to her shame and horror, she began to cry.

[Folwren]

When most of the guests were seated, the servants began to bring in the dishes of food. Uldor sat silently, looking over the gathering. His scanning eyes could see most of the people in the hall from where he sat. He named many of the men to himself, wondered why a few of them were there, and went on. Among them all he could not catch sight of two that he was expecting – Brodda and, more importantly, Jord. Had the rogue forgotten his order? Did he think it was not very important and did he mean to spend all night in finding her?

His thoughts were interrupted by Lachrandir. “Master Uldor, where is your lord?”

Uldor’s attention jerked suddenly to Lachrandir and he turned his head abruptly. “My lord Ulfang, you mean?” he repeated. Again, he turned his head and looked to where the old man should be seated. The Ulfing lord’s place was empty. Uldor had not even noticed his absence. Had anyone told him? Uldor had not thought to. . .

“I am not sure where he is, Master Lachrandir,” he said, turning back to the elf after a short pause. “He should be here shortly. . .very soon.” I hope, he added to himself. A slight spasm of annoyance could be seen fleeting momentarily across his face. Another thing to worry about. He would wait a few minutes and see what came of it. “Tell me,” he said after a moment and after their goblets had been filled with wine. He paused. What was he supposed to speak about with an elf? How was one to hold conversation? “How was your journey out this way? Was it very difficult?”

[littlemanpoet]

"My lord Ulfang you mean?"

Apparently, his sire was not the one Uldor was looking for. Who then? Lachrandir would not stoop to ask. Time would tell. Lachrandir was curious, and intended to watch Uldor surreptitiously for any indications as to whom he so eagerly awaited. It could be useful information with which to bargain later. Of course, one should expect that there would be no need to even consider bargaining with this ilk, since Caranthir was their liege lord and they owned this land from him; it was not their own. But sometimes these vile Men forgot such things as oaths sworn; so it would be useful to take any advantages that availed themselves.

Lachrandir smirked, and cared not if Uldor recked it; the fool had clearly not even thought of his sire, and did not know if he would be present. Which suggested that Ulfang was losing power, if he had not already lost it.

“I am not sure where he is, Master Lachrandir. He should be here shortly. . .very soon.”

Lachrandir furrowed his brow. Master Lachrandir? Fool. Uldor needed to be reminded of Lachrandir's deserved title as Lord Caranthir's emissary.

“How was your journey out this way? Was it very difficult?”

The fool was trying to make conversation. "Lord Lachrandir, Master Uldor. My lord is your sire's lord; and thus I am to be given the same honorific by my lord's servant's son. Be sure to remember it.

"As for our journey, it was quick and uneventful, of course, for we are Eldar and our horses are well trained for such journeys. I am sure you cannot understand.

"But mayhap you should send a servant in search of your sire." Lachrandir allowed a sarcastic drawl into his tone. "For he may be forgetful that he has arranged this feast, being a Man of such advanced years."

Lachrandir held Uldor's eyes, for he was almost certain that Ulfang knew nothing of this feast, not having been told by his sons.

[Nogrod]

“No, I....you.....I don’t know.....I am frightened”, Embla managed to utter before she started crying.

Maybe it was the late hour or maybe it was the mead Fastarr had enjoyed quite a few cups that night… maybe it was because Embla clearly addressed him… or because she said she was frightened, or because she started suddenly to cry. But Fastarr hurried to her and took a strong grip from her shoulders.

“Please my lady… there is no need to be afraid. You’re in safety now. Lord Khandr and Hugo are in the house as well as I. We will protect you from whatever it is you’ve met! … I’ll defend you with my staff… with my life, against anyone who dares to wish ill for you.”

Yes. Fastarr was a bit drunk again - the last long draught by the fireside had clearly done it - and he both seemed to think and talk things he shouldn’t. He vaguely realised it, but only vaguely.

“It’s not that…” Embla mumbled and started crying even more violently, wrapping her arms around Fastarr tightly so that Fastarr could feel her slender body trembling against his own. Instinctively Fastarr laid his arms around her and pressed her firmly towards him. How fragile she feels… like Aud felt… and the scent… But at the same time Fastarr became conscious about the awkwardness of the situation. If lord Khandr would enter the hall right now… Embla leaned her head against Fastarr’s chest and wept while Fastarr gently stroked her hair with his fingers.

So even if Fastarr felt quite happy to be in the position he was he still was relieved when Embla pulled herself away. Fastarr tried to look at Embla in the eye, but she looked resolutely downwards, scarlet in the face. Slowly she raised her head and met his eye

“No Fastarr, it’s not anything like that.” She looked terrified, guarded, shook her head slightly and paused. It looked like she was concentrating on what or how to say what she would say next. Fastarr almost held his breath under her stare.

“It’s just the strange athmosphere and…” she laid her eyes low once more and hesitated, “my life… it’s just a tunnel with no way out… except….” she shivered but as soon as she felt Fastarr pulling air to his lungs to open his mouth Embla looked up to him again and braved a smile. “Now you said something about mead, didn’t you? I think we need some…”

She pulled away from Fastarr and looked questioningly towards the fireplace. It took a second from Fastarr to be back in the here and now.

“Yes, my lady. The armchair by the fire, please sit down. I’ll get you a cup from somewhere.” He was about to turn towards the door when Embla laid her hand on his.

“No Fastarr. We need no cups, we need to talk.” She looked at the man just like someone used to giving orders. Fastarr was ever more confused but nodded and turned back to get a smaller chair from the table.

Embla sat down to the easy chair and took a long draught of mead as if she was desperate for a means to loosen her tongue and then offered the vessel to Fastarr who had just settled down beside her. After Fastarr had put the jug back to the little table beside them he realised that Embla had been studying him all the time he had drunk.

“This probably is no major secret to you but I still need someone to tell this… and if I know my husband’s household well enough then you are the one I can share it with… I mean you were married with a Bairka and so you know something about what we think and how we feel.”

Fastarr was stunned with that opening and couldn’t answer but by nodding slightly.

“How do you think a Bairka would feel if given to someone as a second wife?” She turned to gaze the fire while small tears moistened her eyes. After shaking her head she turned back to Fastarr. “It feels like being a carpet in the hallway, walked over by everyone… or like being a trinket bought and sold at a whim, then put away unwanted…” It was close Embla didn’t broke yet again but this time she had the jug to her hands and she took another draught from it.

Fastarr waited for Embla to put the mead back to the table and to wipe her tears. He didn’t do that only out of politeness but also because he needed every second he would be given. So many thoughts ands questions were criss-crossing his mind now. Why is she confiding in me? She’s honest, right, but what does she conceal in her heart? Surely she wasn’t afraid because of that? ... How beautiful she is! Her moist eyes that gleam like gems in the firelight… her straightforwardness and sense of honour like any Bairka would have… like Aud…so like Aud…

Now tears started to form over Fastarr’s eyes in turn. With slightly shaky hands he took his turn with the jug and then pulled himself together as well as he could.

“You speak like you’d be speaking about my life… my life with a beautiful Bairka-girl like you. But it was me then who was the carpet that was walked over…” Fastarr breathed in heavily. “I don’t know how familiar you are with my past but her name was Aud and she came from your village. We were married when I was twenty and had twins the next winter, a girl and a boy, Aïda and Farran they were. Then came that cursed winter spawned in Angband and they both died… cursed be that winter and the might of Morgoth for ever…” The tears were now flowing freely down Fastarr’s cheeks. He tried to concentrate on his story. With his voice breaking he continued.

“She started an affair with a Bairka-man called Starkadr right after our twins died. He came from a bit better off family than I did… I don’t know whether that was the issue but whatever... I hid that knowledge to my heart for a half a year and told no one, not even Aud about it… so I truly know how does it feel to lock your sorrow inside you. It grows and gets darker day by day...” Fastarr swept his eyes with his sleeve. He was about to reach for the jug once again when he suddenly pulled his hand back and continued.

“And so it happened that I met this Starkadr in the harvest-party at fall…” Fastarr went quiet and swallowed staring at the fire for a moment. “I went berserk and killed him… with my bare hands… I banged his head to the stonefloor of the inn so long he was no more…” Fastarr bursted into tears and hid his face into his palms shaking violently as he cried.

“I know, Fastarr…” Embla whispered and stretched her arm out to gently stroke at Fastarr’s hair. “That’s horrible…”

Slowly Fastarr regained his presence of mind and straightened his back. He turned to face Embla with a serious expression. “Never carry your load alone as darkness grows inside one when they’re not aired out and that may lead to deeds one can not take back…”

Little did his slightly drunken mind understand how right on the mark he had hit.

[Folwren]

Uldor burned under Lachrandir’s obvious rebuke. The elf tried in no way to go about it politely. To correct Uldor at all could be dangerous, but to do so bluntly was practically stupidity itself. Uldor’s left hand dropped down from the table and his fingers silently closed around the hilt of one of his daggers, out of Lachrandir’s sight. He could not keep a grimace of hate from passing over his face. But it was only brief, and then it was gone, and his hand left the hilt and returned to the table.

“But maybe you should send a servant in search of your sire," Lachrandir went on after answering Uldor's question. "For he may be forgetful that he has arranged this feast, being a man of such advanced years.” Uldor’s eyes locked with the elf’s. Lachrandir mocked him now, Uldor was sure. He guessed, or even knew, that Ulfang might not have even been informed about the feast.

“We respect the advancement of years here among men,” Uldor said coldly. “Some of us do our best to help those of older years. My lord Ulfang did not arrange this feast. I did it for him when he asked me to. He may easily have forgotten, however.” He lifted his hand to call a servant. One came and Uldor told him quietly to see if Ulfang were coming to the banquet. The man was off a moment later and Uldor turned again to Lachrandir.

“Is there anything else you are curious to know and to help me arrange or correct, Lord Lachrandir? You seem to have a keen eye, ear, and tongue and I’m sure you could help with a great deal if you set your mind to it. Come, who else do you see missing who might have forgotten about the banquet?”