![]() |
![]() |
Visit The *EVEN NEWER* Barrow-Downs Photo Page |
|
![]() |
#1 |
Haunting Spirit
|
![]()
Korik cased his flute. There would be no more music tonight. Some of the men groaned, those who were not too drunk, but Korik just ignored them. He could tell Eodwine was troubled. He also felt a prickling between his shoulders he had come to realize meant imminent danger, an uncanny sixth sense he had developed as a Ranger in the borderlands of western Gondor. He carried the flute case to his room and slipped it under his bed. Something told him to lock the door on his way back out. He did.
When Korik reappeared downstairs there was a wide quiver full of arrows on his back beside a yew short bow slung over his shoulder. The bowstring was taut and waxed. His swordbelt was still around his waist, the scabbarded long sword on his left hip. With a stiff-collared white cloak draped over his forearm he walked over to Eodwine and clapped him on the back. "How about taking a look at my horse now?" Korik himself had drank sparingly; Eodwine..... "Are you alright?"
__________________
Whether the wolf beats the bear or the bear beats the wolf, the rabbit still loses. |
![]() |
![]() |
#2 |
Itinerant Songster
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,066
![]() ![]() |
![]()
"How about taking a look at my horse now?" Korik asked, then looked at Eodwine more closely. "Are you all right?"
"I am well enough. I have been sad today and only lately recall that it is the anniversary of my family's murder. That is why I have been drowning in drink." He rose, tilting off balance a little. "But I will come with you to the stables to check on Flithaf. I am sure the ostler here has done a fine job, but I would bid my steed goodnight." Eodwine set down his lyre beside his satchel and walked next to Korik, who reached out an arm now and then to steady him as they made their way into the night. Korik passed into the stable ahead of him, and only then did Eodwine notice the quiver of arrows on his shoulder, and the sword at his belt. "You are armed. Do you expect trouble in the stables? Or later tonight? The King's men have Edoras well guarded, though a sly thief or murderer could get through, no doubt. But all has been at peace lately." Korik put his finger to his lips. Eodwine realized that he had been talking far too much, and closed his mouth. His head felt thick as soaked leather. |
![]() |
![]() |
#3 |
Cryptic Aura
Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 6,003
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]()
OOC
A hearty welcome to Rohan goes out to new gamers who have demonstrated they can play or run games responsibly and successfully in The Shire. The Perky Ent now joins the list of Rohan Game Managers. Perky did an especially good job of rallying the troups and covering for absent gamers in The Last Ride of the Heir for the entire duration of his game. Keep up that level of enthusiasm, Perky! Responsible interactive gaming and good writing was demonstated in that game by astarielle, Eowyn Skywalker, and Hama of the Riddermark, who now join Rohan as Game Players. Congratulations to the three of you. And some late summer additions come from Resettling the Lost Kingdom: Carrun, Lady Aerowen, and Osse demonstrated they can handle writing in Rohan well. Welcome! Just a reminder: There are several gamers in The Shire who write well, with interesting characters and original ideas, but who have not stayed with a game or who posted so sporadically their absence caused great difficulties for the other gamers. Gaming in Rohan is more interactive, improvisational, and independent and so all members of a game must be reliable and knowledgable in how to keep a game going. Last edited by Bęthberry; 09-07-2004 at 08:54 AM. |
![]() |
![]() |
#4 |
Maniacal Mage
|
![]()
OOC:
Thank you very much Bęthberry! I thank you for bestowing with the great priviliage of owning an RPG in Rohan. I promise not to abuse my power ![]() Perky
__________________
'But Melkor also was there, and he came to the house of Fëanor, and there he slew Finwë King of the Noldor before his doors, and spilled the first blood in the Blessed Realm; for Finwë alone had not fled from the horror of the Dark.' |
![]() |
![]() |
#5 |
Maniacal Mage
|
![]()
As Eric road up the hill, he finally saw at long last what he'd been wanting to see for the last ten years. The way the light cascaded on the fair city was poetry, and as luck would have it, Eric was, in fact, a poet. For the last ten years, Eric had wondered through the many mysteries that Minas Tirith hid, but in the end, he could not want anything more but to see him home. Taking a last look at the land behind him, Eric summoned his horse over the hill to Edoras. It was beautiful.
Getting off his horse right before the fair city, Eric took out a pad and a quill, and began to write. The people fresh, the stone runs deep, yet after ten years I can't help but weep for there is a missing piece to it all but it's not an item, a brick or ball A freshness is missing from the colossus Eric paused for a minute, trying to discover an ending. Then, after giving up, he took his quill back in his hand, and wrote and without it, Rohan is dead Eric sighed, but then grabbed the reigns of his horse, and marched into Edoras. Of the several fine Inns, there was only one that drawed so much customers. Eric quickly infered it was the best, and walked in. The White Horse, it was called. Stepping through the doors, Eric took a seet and waited for someone to serve him. |
![]() |
|
|
![]() |