Last Ride of the Heir RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 05-02-2004, 04:42 PM

Hama of the Riddermark's post

Owacyn lay on the couch in his room. He looked up at the elf-wrought ceiling and smiled, it was fascinating. He was trying to distract himself with nice things, as he had a bad feeling in his gut about this attack. No matter how hard he tried to dissmiss it it always came back, snapping at his heels and stalking his every step. He constantly thought about Gwendalyne back in Gondor, and his unborn infant. He hoped it would be a son, but right now he doubted if he would be around to see his child born and grow. He wished he could, he wanted to teach him how to ride and fight, to shoot a bow and wield a sword. He sighed as he lay there. So many things were uncertain at this time.

He was just drifiting off to sleep, pondering this venture some more, when he heard Elrohir running past his window, cursing at himself in elvish. He smiled. Elrohir was a good friend and a fine bowman, even if he was prone to make a fool of himself occasionally. He drifted off to sleep, a few of his trepidations were gone, after all he'd be riding with the dunedain's finest, and the sons of Elrond himself. Somewhat content, he closed his eyes...

"Where are my elves and rangers!"

Owacyn sighed as he opened his sleepy eyes, swinging his feet off the bed he slipped his boots on. He slowly walked and stepped out of the door. After all, an hour was a short time really..."I'm here, my Lord" he said almost resignedly. Arathorn scowled at his manner, but did not say anything.

Owacyn sat down on a step and took a long, slender pipe out of his belt and stuffed it with weed. He lit it and sucked in deep, blowing smoke rings as he let it out of his mouth. He was slightly irritated that Arathorn had shouted so loudly, he had been enjoying a nice rest. Maybe he was a little too eager. He lay back and looked up at the sky. "Owacyn!" snapped the voice of Arathorn, "Get up!". Owacyn sighed and raised himself to his feet. "Yes, Lord Arathorn." he said as he went over and stood by the banister, looking out at the waterfall in Rivendell. He saw Elrohir running back, his quiver bristling with arrows, and a few even tucked into his belt, he grinned. "A little over enthusiatic, Elrohir?"

05-02-2004, 04:42 PM	#6
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Hama of the Riddermark's post Owacyn lay on the couch in his room. He looked up at the elf-wrought ceiling and smiled, it was fascinating. He was trying to distract himself with nice things, as he had a bad feeling in his gut about this attack. No matter how hard he tried to dissmiss it it always came back, snapping at his heels and stalking his every step. He constantly thought about Gwendalyne back in Gondor, and his unborn infant. He hoped it would be a son, but right now he doubted if he would be around to see his child born and grow. He wished he could, he wanted to teach him how to ride and fight, to shoot a bow and wield a sword. He sighed as he lay there. So many things were uncertain at this time. He was just drifiting off to sleep, pondering this venture some more, when he heard Elrohir running past his window, cursing at himself in elvish. He smiled. Elrohir was a good friend and a fine bowman, even if he was prone to make a fool of himself occasionally. He drifted off to sleep, a few of his trepidations were gone, after all he'd be riding with the dunedain's finest, and the sons of Elrond himself. Somewhat content, he closed his eyes... "Where are my elves and rangers!" Owacyn sighed as he opened his sleepy eyes, swinging his feet off the bed he slipped his boots on. He slowly walked and stepped out of the door. After all, an hour was a short time really..."I'm here, my Lord" he said almost resignedly. Arathorn scowled at his manner, but did not say anything. Owacyn sat down on a step and took a long, slender pipe out of his belt and stuffed it with weed. He lit it and sucked in deep, blowing smoke rings as he let it out of his mouth. He was slightly irritated that Arathorn had shouted so loudly, he had been enjoying a nice rest. Maybe he was a little too eager. He lay back and looked up at the sky. "Owacyn!" snapped the voice of Arathorn, "Get up!". Owacyn sighed and raised himself to his feet. "Yes, Lord Arathorn." he said as he went over and stood by the banister, looking out at the waterfall in Rivendell. He saw Elrohir running back, his quiver bristling with arrows, and a few even tucked into his belt, he grinned. "A little over enthusiatic, Elrohir?" Last edited by piosenniel; 05-03-2004 at 10:32 AM.