Flight from Rohan RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 07-15-2003, 02:31 AM

First post for Archim Forgoil, compliments of Amanaduial the Archer

Fréa had returned from his duties as guard. Inside their father’s house, he, Graitwa, and Archim were celebrating ‘their card victory’ the night after Heldór had been arrested, with some fine old port which they had scavenged from the wine cellar.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off! Excellently done, Fréa.” Archim grinned at his older brother, holding up a glass to him before bringing it to his lips to take a sip, but Graitwa’s derisive snort made him stop, and his bird like eyes darted towards his oldest brother. Graitwa’s lip curled up.

“Excellently done? It was foolish, Crow, and you know it,” he spat.

Archim lowered the glass- he had not taken a sip yet, although both his brothers had been drinking. It paid for him not to get too drunk in their company, lest their drunken fists started itching for a fight. “It has been more than a day since Heldór Hildeson was taken in by the guards for murder,” Archim relished the last two words; it couldn’t have been more perfect that Fréa had chosen to frame Heldór, for he had long disliked Brytta, the man’s brother. “Did I not follow them in the shadows? If the fool had managed to persuade them he did not commit the crime, I think we would have heard by now.”

“Yeah, but if we had been caught, whose fault would that have been?”

Archim’s eyes darted towards Frea, who was grinning openly and wickedly, and his stomach tightened slightly. Subconciously, he began twisting a lock of his dark, greasy hair just behind his ear, a habit he had when he was nervous. “Not mine, surely, brother.” His tone was still jovial, but his dark eyes flicked towards the door for an instant, measuring the distance to it.

“Not yours? Why, was it not you who pushed the old man, Crow? Was that not the real reason why he came after us?” Graitwa was grinning now as well as he added his piece, shifting slightly in his chair. Frea stood casually, and Archim, knowing of what his brothers were like when drunk, checked the distance to the door again. Frea took the moment to take a swipe at him and his younger brother ducked quickly, his glass slipping from his hand as he did so, letting the rich, red port to spill across the stone floor. Graitwa laughed, amused at his little brother’s fear, and Frea sat as well. Archim stood disdainfully, stepping away from the mess on the floor- the maid could clear that up tomorrow morning. His stomach settled again, and he was thankful that Frea was still full of his success and the relief of getting the murder of his hands, but even so, now would be a good time to leave, before his brothers’ fists started truly itching- they would choose any excuse to pick on Archim, and murder was a good excuse.

“It’s late- I will leave you for the night,” Archim nodded smarmily to his brothers as if bowing to a master, before stepping up the few stone stairs as fast as he could, his black cloak swirling behind him.

“Hey, little brother,” Graitwa’s voice stopped Archim, and the little man flinched mentally as he heard his oldest brother stand. Swiveling slowly, he faced them, and, not to his surprise, but certainly to his unease, Graitwa was smiling wickedly again. “If anything does go wrong, it’ll be you the blame will be laid upon.”

Frea laughed at this and Graitwa joined in, and their drunken laughter followed the uneasy Archim up the stairs and out into the cool, early morning air, where he gave a sigh of relief. Yes, he told himself, they had got away with it. But in his sharp, indeed, bird-like mind, something told Archim that this crime would not be so easily dispelled as his brothers might like to think . . .

[ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

07-15-2003, 02:31 AM	#6
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	First post for Archim Forgoil, compliments of Amanaduial the Archer Fréa had returned from his duties as guard. Inside their father’s house, he, Graitwa, and Archim were celebrating ‘their card victory’ the night after Heldór had been arrested, with some fine old port which they had scavenged from the wine cellar. “I can’t believe we pulled it off! Excellently done, Fréa.” Archim grinned at his older brother, holding up a glass to him before bringing it to his lips to take a sip, but Graitwa’s derisive snort made him stop, and his bird like eyes darted towards his oldest brother. Graitwa’s lip curled up. “Excellently done? It was foolish, Crow, and you know it,” he spat. Archim lowered the glass- he had not taken a sip yet, although both his brothers had been drinking. It paid for him not to get too drunk in their company, lest their drunken fists started itching for a fight. “It has been more than a day since Heldór Hildeson was taken in by the guards for murder,” Archim relished the last two words; it couldn’t have been more perfect that Fréa had chosen to frame Heldór, for he had long disliked Brytta, the man’s brother. “Did I not follow them in the shadows? If the fool had managed to persuade them he did not commit the crime, I think we would have heard by now.” “Yeah, but if we had been caught, whose fault would that have been?” Archim’s eyes darted towards Frea, who was grinning openly and wickedly, and his stomach tightened slightly. Subconciously, he began twisting a lock of his dark, greasy hair just behind his ear, a habit he had when he was nervous. “Not mine, surely, brother.” His tone was still jovial, but his dark eyes flicked towards the door for an instant, measuring the distance to it. “Not yours? Why, was it not you who pushed the old man, Crow? Was that not the real reason why he came after us?” Graitwa was grinning now as well as he added his piece, shifting slightly in his chair. Frea stood casually, and Archim, knowing of what his brothers were like when drunk, checked the distance to the door again. Frea took the moment to take a swipe at him and his younger brother ducked quickly, his glass slipping from his hand as he did so, letting the rich, red port to spill across the stone floor. Graitwa laughed, amused at his little brother’s fear, and Frea sat as well. Archim stood disdainfully, stepping away from the mess on the floor- the maid could clear that up tomorrow morning. His stomach settled again, and he was thankful that Frea was still full of his success and the relief of getting the murder of his hands, but even so, now would be a good time to leave, before his brothers’ fists started truly itching- they would choose any excuse to pick on Archim, and murder was a good excuse. “It’s late- I will leave you for the night,” Archim nodded smarmily to his brothers as if bowing to a master, before stepping up the few stone stairs as fast as he could, his black cloak swirling behind him. “Hey, little brother,” Graitwa’s voice stopped Archim, and the little man flinched mentally as he heard his oldest brother stand. Swiveling slowly, he faced them, and, not to his surprise, but certainly to his unease, Graitwa was smiling wickedly again. “If anything does go wrong, it’ll be you the blame will be laid upon.” Frea laughed at this and Graitwa joined in, and their drunken laughter followed the uneasy Archim up the stairs and out into the cool, early morning air, where he gave a sigh of relief. Yes, he told himself, they had got away with it. But in his sharp, indeed, bird-like mind, something told Archim that this crime would not be so easily dispelled as his brothers might like to think . . . [ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.