Hunt for the Palantíri RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Arry · 09-07-2004, 02:37 PM

Carandû set aside his blade on the coverlet of his bunk. He’d honed the edge to razor sharpness and now he took up his knife to do like. ‘You know, brother,’ he said as he ran the edge this way and that across the whetstone, ‘perhaps we should speak with the Captain about our suspicions.’ He took his oiled rag and wiped along the blade of the knife, removing the metal scrapings. ‘I’m sure he has thought along these same lines himself, but I’d feel better if he heard what we had thought on it, also.’

‘Annû held up a fistful of arrows he still intended to sharpen. ‘Let me finish these,’ he put in. ‘Or better yet, let me stay here and you go down to the Captain’s cabin and speak with him.’ Carandû agreed, and putting away his knife and sword, pulled on his boots and headed down the passageway to see Luindal.

The door was ajar when he arrived. He called the Captain’s name and rapped twice on the door. There was no answer, but the door swung open and Carandû stepped in to see if Luindal might be in by any chance and had not heard him. A lamp, turned low, which sat on the desk, cast enough light for him to peek about. No one was in the cabin and Carandû stepped back toward the door to leave.

‘I should turn out the light,’ he thought to himself as he retreated back toward the desk. ‘Wouldn’t want it to be knocked over and start a fire.’ He leaned over the desk toward it, his eye caught by a map of the bay left lying atop it, a certain area circled for emphasis. ‘What’s this, I wonder?’ he said half aloud picking up the map to take a closer look.

The sound of footsteps stopping outside the opened door made him turn. There stood a Lossoth woman. Tall and thin, her grey hair in two braids, she watched him with narrowed eyes. Now what was her name?

‘Hilde!’ he said, laying the map down on the desk and turning off the lamp. Carandû stepped out to the hallway where she stood, closing the door behind him. She looked up at him, giving him an appraising look. ‘The Captain - I was looking for the Captain,’ he said to her. ‘Have you seen him?’

She shook her head and scurried off down the hall.

Wondering at her abrupt departure, Carandû returned to his room. ‘He wasn’t there,’ he told his brother. ‘It’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow,’ he went on yawning widely. ‘I’m tired. Leave the lamp lit for Glahardir and his nephew. Then let’s turn in.’

piosenniel · 09-07-2004, 02:39 PM

Rôg heaved himself up from the chair at the knocking on the door. A sharp pain ripped through his upper left arm where Freyn had applied the poultice and bandage. He plopped his backside back on the chair’s seat and called out a rather annoyed ‘It’s open!’ to the unexpected visitor. He was still grumbling and rubbing his arm gently when the door swung open.

Luindal peeked round the edge, his brows raised in query. ‘You alright?’ he asked, seeing the Skinchanger’s pale face.

Rôg waved him in with his right hand. ‘I’ll be alright, or so Freyn tells me . . . in a day or so. Afraid I’ll be somewhat out of commission until then.’ Luindal had taken the other chair in the room and sat distractedly fingering something. Rôg cleared his throat, drawing the captain’s attention back to himself. ‘Was there something you wanted to speak with me about?’ He held out his open hand to Luindal as he continued speaking. ‘And what in blazes is that you have in your fingers. Why’s it so interesting?’

The scrap of thick brown cloth passed from the Elf’s fingers to his friend’s. Rôg looked it over, asking where the captain had found it. Once told, Rôg pursed his lips and mumbled a something under his breath. ‘You found this in the cavern?’ he asked. ‘How interesting!’ His fingers rubbed over the small, worn design on the button. ‘It's hard to see, but I could swear that this engraving is a southron motif. A seabird in flight . . . a favored one among the seamen there – brings good luck to its wearer. Interesting . . .’ he trailed off, handing the cloth back to Luindal. ‘The color of the material is similar to that I glimpsed on one of the figures I glimpsed in my unfortunate attempt to get us help. Of course, brown is a very common color. The two are probably unrelated.’

Luindal tucked the returned scrap into his pocket as Rôg reached for a small notebook which lay on the bunk behind him. ‘I’ve been giving some thought to searching the bay . . .’ The Elf spoke up before Rôg could finish his sentence. ‘We may not need to,’ he said, filling Rôg in on what the Lossoth elder, Alahseey had shown him, and where she proposed the Elves should search next. ‘She offered to lead us there in a few days.’

‘May fortune smile on us, then,’ commented Rôg. ‘But . . . in case she turns her fickle face away, come closer and let’s look over these things I’ve jotted down. I’ve been talking to Bear about some of this; he’s given me some ideas.’ He turned the notebook around so that it faced Luindal, and placed it on the table between them. His inkstained forefinger pointing to the diagrams, he laid out some ideas he had had for both himself and for any Elf who might consider himself a strong enough swimmer.

Luindal perused the drawings carefully. ‘A seal and bear’s fat, eh . . .?’

09-07-2004, 02:37 PM	#1
Arry Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Jan 2004 Posts: 704	Carandû set aside his blade on the coverlet of his bunk. He’d honed the edge to razor sharpness and now he took up his knife to do like. ‘You know, brother,’ he said as he ran the edge this way and that across the whetstone, ‘perhaps we should speak with the Captain about our suspicions.’ He took his oiled rag and wiped along the blade of the knife, removing the metal scrapings. ‘I’m sure he has thought along these same lines himself, but I’d feel better if he heard what we had thought on it, also.’ ‘Annû held up a fistful of arrows he still intended to sharpen. ‘Let me finish these,’ he put in. ‘Or better yet, let me stay here and you go down to the Captain’s cabin and speak with him.’ Carandû agreed, and putting away his knife and sword, pulled on his boots and headed down the passageway to see Luindal. The door was ajar when he arrived. He called the Captain’s name and rapped twice on the door. There was no answer, but the door swung open and Carandû stepped in to see if Luindal might be in by any chance and had not heard him. A lamp, turned low, which sat on the desk, cast enough light for him to peek about. No one was in the cabin and Carandû stepped back toward the door to leave. ‘I should turn out the light,’ he thought to himself as he retreated back toward the desk. ‘Wouldn’t want it to be knocked over and start a fire.’ He leaned over the desk toward it, his eye caught by a map of the bay left lying atop it, a certain area circled for emphasis. ‘What’s this, I wonder?’ he said half aloud picking up the map to take a closer look. The sound of footsteps stopping outside the opened door made him turn. There stood a Lossoth woman. Tall and thin, her grey hair in two braids, she watched him with narrowed eyes. Now what was her name? ‘Hilde!’ he said, laying the map down on the desk and turning off the lamp. Carandû stepped out to the hallway where she stood, closing the door behind him. She looked up at him, giving him an appraising look. ‘The Captain - I was looking for the Captain,’ he said to her. ‘Have you seen him?’ She shook her head and scurried off down the hall. Wondering at her abrupt departure, Carandû returned to his room. ‘He wasn’t there,’ he told his brother. ‘It’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow,’ he went on yawning widely. ‘I’m tired. Leave the lamp lit for Glahardir and his nephew. Then let’s turn in.’ Last edited by Arry; 09-08-2004 at 03:34 AM.

09-07-2004, 02:39 PM	#2
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Rôg heaved himself up from the chair at the knocking on the door. A sharp pain ripped through his upper left arm where Freyn had applied the poultice and bandage. He plopped his backside back on the chair’s seat and called out a rather annoyed ‘It’s open!’ to the unexpected visitor. He was still grumbling and rubbing his arm gently when the door swung open. Luindal peeked round the edge, his brows raised in query. ‘You alright?’ he asked, seeing the Skinchanger’s pale face. Rôg waved him in with his right hand. ‘I’ll be alright, or so Freyn tells me . . . in a day or so. Afraid I’ll be somewhat out of commission until then.’ Luindal had taken the other chair in the room and sat distractedly fingering something. Rôg cleared his throat, drawing the captain’s attention back to himself. ‘Was there something you wanted to speak with me about?’ He held out his open hand to Luindal as he continued speaking. ‘And what in blazes is that you have in your fingers. Why’s it so interesting?’ The scrap of thick brown cloth passed from the Elf’s fingers to his friend’s. Rôg looked it over, asking where the captain had found it. Once told, Rôg pursed his lips and mumbled a something under his breath. ‘You found this in the cavern?’ he asked. ‘How interesting!’ His fingers rubbed over the small, worn design on the button. ‘It's hard to see, but I could swear that this engraving is a southron motif. A seabird in flight . . . a favored one among the seamen there – brings good luck to its wearer. Interesting . . .’ he trailed off, handing the cloth back to Luindal. ‘The color of the material is similar to that I glimpsed on one of the figures I glimpsed in my unfortunate attempt to get us help. Of course, brown is a very common color. The two are probably unrelated.’ Luindal tucked the returned scrap into his pocket as Rôg reached for a small notebook which lay on the bunk behind him. ‘I’ve been giving some thought to searching the bay . . .’ The Elf spoke up before Rôg could finish his sentence. ‘We may not need to,’ he said, filling Rôg in on what the Lossoth elder, Alahseey had shown him, and where she proposed the Elves should search next. ‘She offered to lead us there in a few days.’ ‘May fortune smile on us, then,’ commented Rôg. ‘But . . . in case she turns her fickle face away, come closer and let’s look over these things I’ve jotted down. I’ve been talking to Bear about some of this; he’s given me some ideas.’ He turned the notebook around so that it faced Luindal, and placed it on the table between them. His inkstained forefinger pointing to the diagrams, he laid out some ideas he had had for both himself and for any Elf who might consider himself a strong enough swimmer. Luindal perused the drawings carefully. ‘A seal and bear’s fat, eh . . .?’