T-I-G CVIII: Wolves of the Galadhrim (Game Thread)

[Nerwen]

The moon was down, and that night the lights had been doused in the stricken tree-city, so that the Silverlode was relatively dim even to Boro’s Elven eyes. He could still make out, though, the strange form he had glimpsed from high in the trees. Now he could see that it was indeed a boat cunningly carved into the shape of a great swan, such as he had seen bearing the Lady Galadriel.

Surely, he thought, this vessel held some answers to the dark mysteries that beset his home.

Then the boat sank. There was no warning at all. One moment it was there, the next the dark waters had closed over it completely.

Boro waded out into the river, staring about him in perplexity.

He did not see the beaked head that surfaced, periscope-like, behind his back and darted smoothly towards him. His startled cry as he was dragged under the water quickly became a choked gurgle.

“A Swan-shaped submarine!” the wolves congratulated themselves. “Who would ever think of that!"

~~~~~~

Nimrodel stood at the top of the waterfall. The stream that had been named for her gushed over her feet and crashed down to the rocks below, before hurrying on to join the Silverlode (where Boro, unbeknownst to her, was drowning).

Her love lay slain and her heart was dust within her. Another step forward, and her anguish would be over–

“No!” she whispered to herself in the ancient Silvan tongue. “There is another way…"

~~~~~~

The Living
Sally
McCaber
Lottie
Farael
Rikae
Shasta
Coppermirror
Kitanna
Aganzir

The Dead
Nerwen, throat torn out Night One. (Mod).
Tar-Jêx, thrown off a flet Day One. (Ranger/Lover).
Boro, dragged under by a swan-submarine Night Two. (Ordo).


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