Treachery of Men RPG

[Folwren]

Uldor had scarcely gotten his cloak and gloves off, before Brodda came to his chambers. Uldor bid him enter and allowed him to speak while he changed and washed.

“I guess you know that the old man is here, locked up,” Brodda began.

“Yes.” He splashed the water over his blood stained hands. “Is that all?”

“No, my lord. I have just learned that Khandr, the Borrim leader, has been murdered.”

“By whom?” Brodda shrugged, but Uldor’s back was to him. “Well?” Udlor snapped.

“I don’t know. No one does.”

Of all the most annoying things to happen, besides Lachrandir being killed, this had to be the worst. Why couldn’t someone murder Ulfast or Ulwarth? Get rid of some competition, instead of killing off his potential allies.

“I am dressed and ready. Go and tell my tardy brother that I am waiting for him. We have work to do, and he can’t tarry all day with that beautiful woman. Oh, yes. Let him know that I know. Traitor,” he muttered. “Both of them.”

[Gwathagor]

Jord grew weary of this stupid man. His weak attempt to parry and riposte could not conceal the ambition which gnawed at his soul, held back only by his numbing cowardice.

"I cannot show you your way, Ulfast," she snapped. "If you are worthy, you must make it yourself. You must prove to Lord Morgoth that you are worthy, worthy to be..." She paused.

Ulfast could not help fixing his gaze on Jord, awaiting her next words. In all other aspect he appeared cavalier, but his glance and his tone betrayed the anticipation and interest that he felt.

"Yes? To be what?"

Jord smiled. The harshness of a moment before vanished.

"Whatever you choose, Prince of the Ulfings. To his faithful servants Lord Morgoth will give thrones of victory, over elves and men alike. They are there for the taking, if you will only stretch out your hand of might, of courage...and take them. Such men are not deterred by circumstances, or by other men."

From seemingly nowhere, Jord produced a long, narrow dagger, cold and deadly, and set it silently on a small wooden table which stood just within the door.

"I will return for this tomorrow at sunset. If it is not here - then so be it. There have been so many murders recently." And with that, she looked straight and deep into Ulfast's eyes, goading him on to a decision.

He spoke not a word.

Perhaps she had overdone it. She was not even sure if Ulfast could comprehend all that she said, but she had said it as plain as she could without revealing her entire hand. Morgoth could care less who ruled the Ulfings - Ulfast would do, and so would Uldor - as long as they could obey orders. His one requirement was this: he needed all of the Ulfings, he needed them united. This gave Ulfast three choices: kill Uldor, die, or follow - and live with his cowardice. Jord personally rather hoped he would choose to kill his brother, as Uldor had yet to match his younger brother's willingness to pay homage to Lord Morgoth. Perhaps if he could be made to see the benefits...

"Very well, Ulfast. I'll go and see your older brother. He must tell me about the hunt, for I hear he killed a boar. He must be a very fine hunter. A very accomplished prince indeed."

Jord turned, and with a rustle and a swirl of long skirts disappeared through the rough wooden doorway and down the hall.

[littlemanpoet]

Ulfast watched her leave. So his task was clear. She meant for him to murder Uldor, and so follow her in deeds of murder; she had killed Lachrandir and Khandr. He would be a fool who missed that.

When she had disappeared from view, he stared at the dagger on the little table. He would have preferred a sword to kill his brother, but a dagger would do.

He heard muffled voices down the hall. It was Brodda, Uldor's dog, saying that Uldor wanted both Jord and Ulfast in the main hall. Giving orders again.

Not wanting Brodda to see the dagger, he hastened out of the room, closing his door, and walked straight up to Brodda.

"Lord Uldor-" Brodda started, but Ulfast shouldered by him.

"Give me no orders, wretch."

He came to the main hall. There was Jord, steppng next to Uldor like a cat trying to leave its territorial scent; the message was clear: 'you are mine'.

Ulfast spoke before Uldor could. "There are murderers loose! They must be found and justice done! Witnesses must be questioned. 'Tis time to set aside pleasures, brother, and go question our prisoner."

Without waiting for a retort, he headed off toward the dungeon, such as it was, careless of whether he was followed. Down he went, hearing quick footsteps behind him. Torches lit the way. He came to the prisoner's door, outside of which stood a guard.

"Open the door," Ulfast commanded. "I will speak to the prisoner."

More feet could be heard trundling down the stairs. Ulfast did not look back. Let him come after. He was determined to be first, and to ask the first question. The door opened, Ulfast entered the cell. The prisoner, who had been slouched over, sat up straight. Two guards came in and stood one on each side of the prisoner, whose face could not be seen clearly for the darkness.

"Who are you?" Ulfast demanded. "Bring me a torch!" he yelled up the stairs.

"I am Thorn of the Ulfings."

"You have not been among the Ulfings for years. Why did you come back now?"

Ulfast could hear and feel the presence of Uldor come in behind him, and the swish of Jord's gown announced her presence next.

"To warn Khandr that you will betray Lord Caranthir to Morgoth."

Ulfast sucked in breath. How did this man know? "Where did you hear such lies?"

"No man, no woman told me. I listen to the Song."

"You lie. Who told you?"

"The Song told me."

"What did you say to Khandr of the Borrim before he was killed?"

"That you would betray Lord Caranthir to Morgoth. And that he would die today."

"So you threatened him."

"No, I warned him."

"Do you mean to say that you warned him that someone else was going to kill him?"

"Yes."

"And who is this supposed killer?" Ulfast's heart deadened within him, for he knew that Jord had done the deed, and he suddenly realized that this Thorn, also knew.

"The one called Jord, who stands next to Lord Uldor is his killer. And she also killed the Elf Lord, Lachrandir."

One of the guards cuffed the prisoner across the face with the heel of his sword.

Torches were brought and handed to Ulfast and his brother. Ulfast raised it. In the light he saw for the first time the prisoner's face. There was no fear, just a cut lip. He stared steadily back at Ulfast, and it was unnerving.

"How dare you level such baseless accusations!" Ulfast stated, his words ringing hollow in his ears.

"Step aside brother mine," Uldor said at last, "now that you've run yourself aground letting this old fool trip you up so easily."

"He has done no such thing," Ulfast grated, knowing immediately that his clumsy denial could only mean the opposite of his words. Suddenly his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he wanted nothing so much as to end his brother's life. He glanced at Jord who met his eyes briefly. All he saw there was ravenous hunger.

Uldor spoke.