Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Aylwen Dreamsong · 01-06-2007, 01:36 PM

Tired. Feverish. Maybe a little bit of both? Lightheaded. Dizzy.

Her eyelids felt heavier with every blink.

Galloping across the plains north and west, Bellyn suddenly wished she had never left home. This moment of doubt was quickly followed by the memory of the dream-woman’s haunting eyes, sorrowful and lonely, empty and dead.

I have to continue, I cannot stop here…

She looked quite the wreck as she brought her horse to a slow walk. Bellyn could see her breath and the breath of her horse billowing in the chill air. Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead and on the nape of her neck, beneath tangled and frizzy black curls.

How will I know where to go?

Bellyn thought it was a valid question – a question she should have pondered before galloping off and away from the safety of home. The Ered Nimrais stretched far and long into the west before drifting south to Andrast. Where could she possibly find the lost woman? The high peaks and dangerous cliffs – would she find the right place?

Doubt once again raced through her mind. This time she ignored it, and pressed on, willing her horse to go faster. They would stop and rest later, but for now, Bellyn wanted to put miles and miles between her and Minas Tirith. The map in her mind drew a line from Minas Tirith towards the Eastfold and deep into the mountains, where in her heart she could imagine a lonely woman wishing for someone, anyone to help.

This image kept Bellyn riding, riding onward.

01-06-2007, 01:36 PM	#11
Aylwen Dreamsong The Melody of Misery Join Date: Aug 2002 Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)... Posts: 1,147	Tired. Feverish. Maybe a little bit of both? Lightheaded. Dizzy. Her eyelids felt heavier with every blink. Galloping across the plains north and west, Bellyn suddenly wished she had never left home. This moment of doubt was quickly followed by the memory of the dream-woman’s haunting eyes, sorrowful and lonely, empty and dead. I have to continue, I cannot stop here… She looked quite the wreck as she brought her horse to a slow walk. Bellyn could see her breath and the breath of her horse billowing in the chill air. Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead and on the nape of her neck, beneath tangled and frizzy black curls. How will I know where to go? Bellyn thought it was a valid question – a question she should have pondered before galloping off and away from the safety of home. The Ered Nimrais stretched far and long into the west before drifting south to Andrast. Where could she possibly find the lost woman? The high peaks and dangerous cliffs – would she find the right place? Doubt once again raced through her mind. This time she ignored it, and pressed on, willing her horse to go faster. They would stop and rest later, but for now, Bellyn wanted to put miles and miles between her and Minas Tirith. The map in her mind drew a line from Minas Tirith towards the Eastfold and deep into the mountains, where in her heart she could imagine a lonely woman wishing for someone, anyone to help. This image kept Bellyn riding, riding onward.