Defense of the Poros RPG

[Daniel Telcontar]

Khalad felt the anxiety growing with the passing of the day. He knew that the only chance the Poros settlement stood of defending itself was its walls; and if breached by the catapults then victory was no longer achievable. Yet Astalder and his companion did not return. And it was plain to see that some of the soldiers were uneasy, wishing to return to the temporary safety that Poros could offer.

None of the remaining knights had higher rank than the others, and Khalad could not order them. But when some of the mounted their horses and spoke of returning, he replied sharply: "We cannot return as long as Astalder has not!" Some of them eyed him warily, unsure of what he meant. "It may be very well to be noble and all that, but if they have been caught, we don't stand a chance of helping them," some said in equally harsh tones.
"I am not trying to be noble!" Khalad lashed out. "Do you not understand what the catapults mean? Our walls are useless and will be nothing but a trap for ourselves when they come crumbling down upon us, struck by the siege equipment! The settlement should already be alerted by the survivors from the watch tower. Our duty now must be to destroy the catapults before the Haradrim reach Poros."

Khalad waited for a few moments, allowing his words to sink in and to let his comrades understand fully what he meant. Khalad mounted his steed yet prepared to ride in another direction than those who had done so at first. "We must destroy those catapults," he said, and now his voice was no longer raised, but quiet, almost a whisper; but it did not lose its urgency because of it. One by one the knights of Gondor mounted their horses and then carefully, using their vigilance, they rode towards the Haradrim camp.

[Imladris]

It would be difficult blaming Frôzhal for the Gondorians in disguise. They could have taken the clothing from a Haradrim corpse…maybe they even had slain the guards that were supposed to have been guarding the catapult. But that didn’t really matter. All what mattered was silently, swiftly, and cleverly putting Frôzhal out of the way.

It was strange, this loathing of Frôzhal. He was timid. He was a puppy. He was a worm that grubbed after men’s compliments and slunk up the ladder to success. He was insignificant. So insignificant that I shouldn’t even care about him no more than I would care for a flea. But that was the annoying thing about fleas. They never went away. They bit your skin and their bites itched until they became an unbearable torment. Yet it was only a flea. A harmless flea. A flea that could not kill you or make you sick. That was what Frôzhal was. He was a flea who bit you behind the ears when you were asleep. It’s rather difficult to smack a flea when you are peacefully asleep, unaware that the flea is even there. That’s what Frôzhal did. He hovered around long enough, bribed men with money and what not. I honestly believe that the commanding officers let Frôzhal up the ladder because he was a simple annoyance. It was an easy way to get rid of him.

But fleas could be killed. They could be drowned if one went swimming for a long period of time. Frôzhal would similarly be drowned under a torrent of carefully spun lies. Lies that couldn’t be proved guilty and could be proven true under a manipulation of evidence.

But why is it again that I want Frôzhal proved of treason? Because he forsake his post at the army, that’s why. The ultimate proof of his cowardice. Yet who would believe them? These Gondorians were the key…but how is the key going to be made to fit the lock?