Hunt for the Palantíri RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

The door to Luindal's cabin had been shut tight. Inside, three figures were huddled about a small table quietly talking: Rôg, Alakhseey, and the Captain himself. The Palantir that Rôg had extracted from the garbage now sat between them in the middle of the table.

Luindal absently traced a finger over the smooth surface of the globe and then withdrew it hastily when he realized what he was doing. Unlike the larger Stone, this one was clean and shiny, free of mud and all debris, with an oddly inviting aura about it. Luindal sighed and shook his head, glancing over at his friend who was again in human form.

Luindal and the crew had ignored Rôg's earlier plea for a boat. Instead, they had fished him out of the icy Bay in seal form, hoisting him onto the deck in a heavy net, since that had seemed the fastest way to accomplish what they wanted to do. The fact that Rôg was still emitting a strong stench from his escapade in the garbage may also have played a part in their decision to use the net. The first thing Rôg noticed once he stood on deck was how quiet everything was. Given the extreme noise and hubub of battle on the Corsair ship, things here almost seemed in slow motion. Luindal had stopped to thank Rôg for the Stone and then led his friend below deck, offering him a bar of soap, a wash basin and a change of clothes. Now, several minutes later, the Shapechanger sat next to the Captain and Alakhseey calmly discussing what was happening on the other ship.

Luindal had been vastly relieved to see his friend. The Elf had been restlessly pacing the deck for some time, eager to get involved in the fighting but feeling compelled to remain behind to guard the larger Stone. There had been too many earlier surprise attacks for him to assume that the Corsair captain would stay in one spot. There was always the possibility that Marreth would break off with a small band and make his way over, intent on retrieving the Stone of Amon Sul. Despite his impatience, Luindal had remained behind with a small hand-picked group, making sure that both Stone and ship stayed safe.

The conversation had been going on for some time when Luindal abruptly stood up and went over to retrieve his sword, slipping it back in its sheathe. "Let's go. We need to get back."

"We?," questioned Rôg. "I thought you needed to stay here?"

Luindal shook his head impatiently, "There's no need for me to be here. Alakhseey can be in charge of those guarding the ship. Anyways, Marreth's not going anywhere until he retrieves that smaller Stone. He certainly wouldn't leave his ship without it. And that means we know just where to find him."

"Rôg," Luindal continued, "I'll need your help to throw down a rope so I can shimmy up and get onto the vessel. And once we're there, I want you to take me straight to the garbage room. I intend to sit there and wait for our friend. I have a feeling he'll be coming back quite soon. He won't be able to resist. If Marreth was defeated and captured, the rest of his crew would not last long."

With that, Luindal strode out of the room to go back on deck, the other two trailing along behind him. The one thing the Elf was certain of was that it would not be very long before Marreth felt compelled to go down to the garbage chute to check on the safety of the Stone. He himself had felt an odd compulsion when he had touched the globe. That "odd compulsion" would be even more likely to affect a Corsair who would have no idea about the power of such ancient and wonderous artifacts.

[Arry]

. . . missed . . . he murmured, the last breath trailing out softly from his lips.

The pain was gone. And the darkness that had pushed in from the corners of his eyes fled, dissipated like some mist at the sun’s rise.

There on the white sands, made whiter by the green countryside stretching far behind it, was the welcoming tower, the solemn song of a silver harp winding down from a high window. Behind, the curtain of golden rain closed again on the outer seas . . . some sad, imperfect dream, now sundered from him.

‘Come, little brother!’ Carandû’s hand reached out to him, his face wreathed in smiles. ‘I’ve missed you . . .’

[piosenniel]

Well, let’s hope the Corsair captain hasn’t already gone to check on the stone! thought Rôg. He’ll know it’s gone with one look into the garbage chute, since I left the door open where the hold is cleaned out. While the captain was giving some final instruction to the crew that remained on The Spirit, Rôg ran to find some suitable length of rope with which Luindal could climb up to the ship’s midden. On his way back to the small boat, he spied a thick glass float, the sort the crew used to float their nets when they were fishing. On impulse, he picked it up.

The small boat was lowered into the water from the Elven ship, out of sight of those on the Corsair vessel. With quick strong strokes, Rôg and Luindal made their way to the enemy ship, stopping just below the exit to the garbage chute. The Skinchanger looked up at the gaping hatchway; even a rat could not run up the side of the ship to it. He changed to a gull and grasping the end of the strong, slender rope flew up to the entryway and went in. It would be a tight fit, he thought, eyeing the width of the hole, but he was sure that with a little pulling on his part the skinny Elf could slide right in.

Once inside, he changed back to his man form, gagging at the reek, and secured the end of the rope to one of the posts that stood on either side of the opening. He looked down to where Luindal waited in the boat and motioned for him to come up. The captain had tied a rag about his nose and mouth, hoping to filter out some of the noxious smell he noted. Doubt it’ll work! he thought to himself, grasping Luindal’s arm and sliding him head first into the dark, malodorous space. In the space of a few minutes, Rôg had taken the glass float from Luindal and buried it where Marreth had placed the palantir. A hiding place had been found for the captain, where he had a good view of anyone coming down the chute to the garbage hold. Sword in hand, Luindal waited for the Corsair captain.

Rôg, for his part, took on his rat form and sat contentedly on a pile of fermenting peelings. ‘Tasty!’ he murmured appreciatively, taking up one to munch on as they waited.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Returning to the main deck, Marreth had again found himself swept up in the fighting. On all sides, he could see signs of how hard the struggle had been. There were bodies of Elves, Lossoth, and Corsairs tossed about: he could not even fight without having to step over or push aside the corpses of intruders or those of his own crew. Many of the combattants from both sides continued to battle on despite their grievous wounds.

Marreth himself had a cut across his upper arm. He had ripped off a strip of cloth from his shirt and had one of his comrades bind it tightly about his forearm to try and staunch the bleeding. The makeshift bandage had slowed the flow of blood, but not before he had lost a considerable amount. His head felt as if it was swimming, but he fought hard to keep his wits and willed his body to fight on. Still, things did not seem to be turning out the way he had intended. Despite the large number of intruders the Corsairs had killed or wounded, the odds seemed to be tipping slowly in favor of the Elves, a fact that Marreth hated to admit.

Nor was the loss of blood the only reason the Corsair's mind kept wandering. Marreth found himself thinking about the precious Stone he had hidden in the garbage hold and wondering if it was still all right. He should stay and rally his men to a counterattack, yet he couldn't seem to get the image of the Palantir out of his head. Then the thought struck him. The Stone was an artifact of great power. He had read in the old scrolls that it could be used to communicate over long distances. But perhaps the thing had other hidden powers....perhaps even powers similar to those of the great Ring from the last war. Perhaps these were powers that the Elves kept to themselves so no one else would even suspect the hidden secret of the Stones. No wonder Luindal was so doggedly anxious to get it back! For all he knew, that dratted Elf leader had called upon the other Stone to launch a counterattack against his ship, and that was why they were losing.

Suddenly, the whole thing made perfect sense to Marreth. He must go down and have a look at the Palantir again. If it was a great and mysterious weapon, then he might be able to find a way to unleash its power. He would be able to sweep the intruders from the deck of his ship and turn his attack on the Spirit. Quickly he slipped away from the battle and retreated to the small ladder that led down into the hold, intent on getting back to the Stone as quickly as he could.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Orofaniel's post - Galhardir and Rodhal

When Galhardir had been trapped by Tarn in the dark tiny room under deck, he was not able to get out because of the barrels on the outside. It smelled rotten, and the darkness digusted him. He wasn’t able to see his own hands when he reached out as he hitting the hatch, as hard as he could, trying to get out. It was all in vain. He hadn't been able to hear anything either, except for a heavy body hitting the floor. Thinking about Annû he had cursed Tarn. He hoped with all his heart that Annû somehow had escaped and managed to kill Tarn. But Galhardir knew his mind was playing him some awful tricks. Galhardir remained hopeful, but ignorant about the events on the outside. Hitting the hatch once more, hoping the barrels would roll away from it because of the pressure, Galhardir knew that it was impossible to get out. It was impossible if no one else would come to his rescue.

Once again his thoughts turned to Annû. He didn't dare to think what Tarn might have done to him. Galhardir shed some tears, yet he wouldn't give up.

***

Galhardir hadn't been able to count how much time had passed, but he heard someone on the outside removing the barrels. Galhardir could hardly wait to get out, as he had started to think that everyone had forgotten about him. He was also anxious to see Annû - hopefully the elf was still alive. It had been Rodhal, who had been removing the barrels, and opening the hatch. Galhardir cried of joy, holding the boy tight. Galhardir didn't realise that the boy was very upset as his face was swollen of all the tears the boy had shed. Then, Galhardir had known; It was Annû he had heard. It had been his body that had fallen to the deck. Knowing the truth, both Rodhal and Galhardir had been devastated. The two elven brothers had sacrificed their lives for the Stones; it deserved great respect and both of them should be honored in a way no one else had been before them.

[Kitanna]

Nilak had hid in the shadows when Marreth proposed his plan to the Elves. He stayed in the shadows as the Elven ship came toward them. He was now still in the shadows as the battle began.

Nilak had no desire to rush forward to his death. He would stay hidden from sight and see what came to him. Let the Corsairs die for their cause, he thought. He no longer cared, the Stones had been found, it was time to collect his pay. He had not signed on with Sernir to die.

Elves swarmed the ship and sooner or later Nilak would have to fight again. For now he stood still. Unfortnately Sernir caught sight of him. "Coward!" The corsair hissed pulling Nilak from the shadows. "Come and fight!"

Sernir flung Nilak to the ground. "Hiding in the shadows when the captain needs as many men as possible?" Nilak was trying to get to his feet when Sernir gave him a good kick in the side. "Scum!"

Nilak staggered to his feet and glared at Sernir. He broke his glare and looked past the Corsair. He did not even warn him that the Elf was moving in for the kill. Sernir let out a yelp of pain and crumbled to the floor. Blood pooled around him. Nilak stared at the Elf for a moment before pulling out his dagger.

He let it fly, hitting the Elf in the chest. He fell beside Sernir. Nilak retrieved his dagger from the dying Elf. Before moving on he knelt beside Sernir. He still drew a few pained breath. "I would stay here and get you help, but as you said Marreth needs more men."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Luindal carefully slunk out of view, well hidden by the grey shadows playing fitfully along the wall as he stooped down behind a bulky cauldron that was used to prepare soups and stews for the Corsair crew. He could hear the sounds coming from atop the garbage heap; Rôg had leapt on top of the mound and was munching contentedly through an assortment of peelings and cores.

Despite the grave situation, Luindal could not help but smile. Many would describe the Palantir as an object of untold magic and power, a strange and wondrous thing that had been crafted by Elves in the days of old. Luindal was well aware of the history and power of the Stone and the fact that its power could be abused. His men and many of the Lossoth allies had died trying to keep it out of the clutches of the Corsairs. He wished it could have been different.

Yet, if there was any true magic in the hold, its greatest expression lay not in the Stone crafted by Elven hands, but in the small rat who sat unnoticed, munching his dinner amidst the chaos of battle. Naturally quiet and scholarly, Rôg was reluctant even to fight. Yet, in the wrong hands, this Shapechanger could be used as one of the most lethal and far-reaching weapons that Luindal could ever imagine. The Elf shuddered slightly and shook his head, glad that Marreth was not aware of who the small rat was or what he could do.

Luindal's thoughts quickly turned to other things as there was a loud thud coming from the direction of the garbage chute and Marreth's lanky form suddenly appeared. Quickly, the Corsair raced over to the spot where he had left the Stone and began furiously digging, a gloating look of pleasure on his face. As his fingers touched the glass float, he smiled and began to lift his treasure into the air. But once he had gotten a closer look at it, he smashed the object to the floor and cursed, "Pock-livered Elves.....may they all rot on the bottom of the ocean! Someone has been meddling here. Luindal, come out. I smell your hand in this."

In an instant, Luindal slipped from the darkness and directly faced Marreth with sword in hand. "I have your Stone on my ship. There is no more reason for you to fight. We've gotten what we came for. Call your men off. I will rip your sails into pieces to ensure you stay put for a while, and we will depart in peace. There has been enough bloodshed to both our men."

Marreth turned to face Luindal with a snarl. All he had heard was Luindal's boast that the Elves now possessed both the Stones. Everything else flew by him unnoticed. Roaring his disapproval, Marreth moved in to attack.