WW LXXXII: Return to Tol-in-Gaurhoth - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Thinlómien · 10-04-2010, 02:00 PM

"As your king, I do not forbid you to go. But as your friend, I advise you not to."
Lady Thinlómien looked up at Finrod Felgund, king of Nargothrond, a little defiantly.
"But Celegorm and Curufin are not hunting wolves. Soon they'll be running amok ever closer to Nargothrond." The words came out as an accusation although that was not the Lady's intention.
"They are your kinsmen, Thinlómien, and although I am their king they are their own lords and may hunt as they will."
"Then I will go, in their stead."
"My heart is heavy. I see only darkness ahead of you and those who may go with you."
Thinlómien knelt before him. Gently, she said: "Somebody has to go and stop the hounds of Sauron. Let me go, my king."
"Go then, friend. Anar kalúva tielyanna."

So Lady Thinlómien went and chose the fourteen best hunters of her household. Among them were her three childhood friends; the Four Singers they had been called in the West though few now remembered it. They accepted her invitations gravely, the one who sang great songs of growth and warding, the one to whom songs came in dreams and the singer who was even more fiery in spirit than Lady Thinlómien herself. Foreseeing an unknown evil, she asked her friends to keep their gifts in secret and use them only in the direst need.

So they set out, Thinlómien and the best hunters of her household and a dozen friends of hers. Once they had set out of the gates of Nargothrond, they were joined by Huan, the mighty hound of Thinlómien's kinsman Celegorm, who hunted even when his master chose not to.

Days they travelled in the wildernesses and desolate lands, bordering ever closer to the dreadful isle of Tol-in-Gaurhoth which had once been the beautiful fortress of Minas Tirith. They hunted down and slew many wolves, until they were waylaid by the great wolf Draugluin and a host of wargs and orcs. The Elves fought valiantly, but they were overpowered and instead of killing them, the enemies sought to take them captive. The noble hound Huan slew many wolves but before he could engage in a fight with their leader, Thinlómien turned to him and spoke: "Huan, you loyal friend! Flee now that you still can and take tidings of our fate to Nargothrond. Your fate lies still ahead of you while our path darkens. Go, there is no hope in this fight!" The wise hound bowed his head and reluctantly he slipped to the growing darkness and ran away.

Lady Thinlómien and those who remained of her folk - seven hunters; Eönwë and Wilwarin, solitary Shastanis, impatient Nerwen, young Ozban, old Green and the sleepy master Nogrod, Pitch the Furrier, the jeweller Legate and the weaponsmith Inziladun, Boromir the Gatewarden, Glirdan the Scholar, Skip who seeked to impress the Lady Finduilas and the youth Loslote who had pleaded to come along - were made captive and taken to the Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Isle of Werewolves.

They were taken to Sauron, the right hand of the Enemy and a lord of werewolves. He questioned them and wanted to know who they were and what they were doing. The Elves refused to tell him anything, and only when he threatened to torture her folk did Lady Thinlómien tell him who they were and what was their mission. And Sauron laughed, for he was pleased.
"Hunters of wolves, you say. Then I will save your lives - if you go to the north and steal the cubs of the dire wolves there and bring them to me to raise, I will save your lives and you can live here as respected servants of a mighty lord."
"We will never serve the dark!" Lady Thinlómien burst out.
"That we will see. Take the Elves to the dungeons and torture them to see if they yield. If they don't, take them to the pits and my wolves will devour them one by one until they do."
"You will not do this to me and my people! We will never yield!"
Sauron laughed again and angered by his mockery, Lady Thinlómien wove a great song into which she put all her power and all her love for the beautiful things of this world and of the world in the West and sought to bring the light of the other side into the dark castle. Threatened, Sauron wove his own song, and a mighty singer was he indeed. The love and beauty he destroyed with hate and cruelty and the light with a never-ending darkness. So was the Elven Lady's song shattered and broken, she was taken to the dungeons and her fourteen companions were taken with her.

Long they were tortured by Sauron's servants, but none of them faltered, none would give in. Enraged, Sauron took three of them and with a great spell of evil, destroyed all that was good in their minds and left only the vilest thoughts and darkest desires. Then he cloaked them in hides of great wolves. "You belong to me now. Every night, you shall slay one of them until they give in to me or until only you, my loyal ones, remain. You know who to start with."

By ill luck the most faint-hearted of Lady Thinlómien's folk happened to hear these words in the pit where she was shackled. A great despair settled on her and she knew there was no other chance for her to survive this than to give in to the Enemy. She begged him to take her as his servant but he scorned her and asked: "Why should I take as mine the most cowardly?" And she cried, shamed, and wished to die. There was only one path out of this for her now: to try to find the three the Lord of Werewolves had changed and gain their sympathy.

When night finally fell, all the Elves were taken to the deepest and darkest of all the dungeons on the isle. There the lay in quiet dread until they fell asleep.

~*~

Night 1 has now begun. Wolves, you may PM with each other. Seer, you may send me your first dream. Hunter, if you for some weird reason want to make a pick toNight, you are allowed to do so.

~*~

The Player List
A Little Green - veteran hunter with a striking resemblance to an opossum
Boromir88 - incompetent gatewarden
Eönwë - hunter
Glirdan - local batty scholar
Inziladun - weaponsmith
Legate of Amon Lanc - jeweller with an affinity to the colour white
Loslote - young tag-along girl with frizzy hair
Nerwen - young and impatient hunter who makes animal statues of wood and likes the colour green
Nogrod - narcoleptic master-hunter
Ozban - young and naive hunter and admirer of Finrod Felagund
Pitchwife - furrier
Shastanis Althreduin - orphan solitary hunter who moves silently, likes blue and has a pet snake
skip spence - an admirer of Finduilas's
wilwarin538 - hunter

The Admin Thread with the Rules

10-04-2010, 02:00 PM	#1
Thinlómien Shady She-Penguin Join Date: Dec 2004 Location: In a far land beyond the Sea Posts: 8,217	WW LXXXII: Return to Tol-in-Gaurhoth "As your king, I do not forbid you to go. But as your friend, I advise you not to." Lady Thinlómien looked up at Finrod Felgund, king of Nargothrond, a little defiantly. "But Celegorm and Curufin are not hunting wolves. Soon they'll be running amok ever closer to Nargothrond." The words came out as an accusation although that was not the Lady's intention. "They are your kinsmen, Thinlómien, and although I am their king they are their own lords and may hunt as they will." "Then I will go, in their stead." "My heart is heavy. I see only darkness ahead of you and those who may go with you." Thinlómien knelt before him. Gently, she said: "Somebody has to go and stop the hounds of Sauron. Let me go, my king." "Go then, friend. Anar kalúva tielyanna." So Lady Thinlómien went and chose the fourteen best hunters of her household. Among them were her three childhood friends; the Four Singers they had been called in the West though few now remembered it. They accepted her invitations gravely, the one who sang great songs of growth and warding, the one to whom songs came in dreams and the singer who was even more fiery in spirit than Lady Thinlómien herself. Foreseeing an unknown evil, she asked her friends to keep their gifts in secret and use them only in the direst need. So they set out, Thinlómien and the best hunters of her household and a dozen friends of hers. Once they had set out of the gates of Nargothrond, they were joined by Huan, the mighty hound of Thinlómien's kinsman Celegorm, who hunted even when his master chose not to. Days they travelled in the wildernesses and desolate lands, bordering ever closer to the dreadful isle of Tol-in-Gaurhoth which had once been the beautiful fortress of Minas Tirith. They hunted down and slew many wolves, until they were waylaid by the great wolf Draugluin and a host of wargs and orcs. The Elves fought valiantly, but they were overpowered and instead of killing them, the enemies sought to take them captive. The noble hound Huan slew many wolves but before he could engage in a fight with their leader, Thinlómien turned to him and spoke: "Huan, you loyal friend! Flee now that you still can and take tidings of our fate to Nargothrond. Your fate lies still ahead of you while our path darkens. Go, there is no hope in this fight!" The wise hound bowed his head and reluctantly he slipped to the growing darkness and ran away. Lady Thinlómien and those who remained of her folk - seven hunters; Eönwë and Wilwarin, solitary Shastanis, impatient Nerwen, young Ozban, old Green and the sleepy master Nogrod, Pitch the Furrier, the jeweller Legate and the weaponsmith Inziladun, Boromir the Gatewarden, Glirdan the Scholar, Skip who seeked to impress the Lady Finduilas and the youth Loslote who had pleaded to come along - were made captive and taken to the Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Isle of Werewolves. They were taken to Sauron, the right hand of the Enemy and a lord of werewolves. He questioned them and wanted to know who they were and what they were doing. The Elves refused to tell him anything, and only when he threatened to torture her folk did Lady Thinlómien tell him who they were and what was their mission. And Sauron laughed, for he was pleased. "Hunters of wolves, you say. Then I will save your lives - if you go to the north and steal the cubs of the dire wolves there and bring them to me to raise, I will save your lives and you can live here as respected servants of a mighty lord." "We will never serve the dark!" Lady Thinlómien burst out. "That we will see. Take the Elves to the dungeons and torture them to see if they yield. If they don't, take them to the pits and my wolves will devour them one by one until they do." "You will not do this to me and my people! We will never yield!" Sauron laughed again and angered by his mockery, Lady Thinlómien wove a great song into which she put all her power and all her love for the beautiful things of this world and of the world in the West and sought to bring the light of the other side into the dark castle. Threatened, Sauron wove his own song, and a mighty singer was he indeed. The love and beauty he destroyed with hate and cruelty and the light with a never-ending darkness. So was the Elven Lady's song shattered and broken, she was taken to the dungeons and her fourteen companions were taken with her. Long they were tortured by Sauron's servants, but none of them faltered, none would give in. Enraged, Sauron took three of them and with a great spell of evil, destroyed all that was good in their minds and left only the vilest thoughts and darkest desires. Then he cloaked them in hides of great wolves. "You belong to me now. Every night, you shall slay one of them until they give in to me or until only you, my loyal ones, remain. You know who to start with." By ill luck the most faint-hearted of Lady Thinlómien's folk happened to hear these words in the pit where she was shackled. A great despair settled on her and she knew there was no other chance for her to survive this than to give in to the Enemy. She begged him to take her as his servant but he scorned her and asked: "Why should I take as mine the most cowardly?" And she cried, shamed, and wished to die. There was only one path out of this for her now: to try to find the three the Lord of Werewolves had changed and gain their sympathy. When night finally fell, all the Elves were taken to the deepest and darkest of all the dungeons on the isle. There the lay in quiet dread until they fell asleep. ~~ Night 1 has now begun.* Wolves, you may PM with each other. Seer, you may send me your first dream. Hunter, if you for some weird reason want to make a pick toNight, you are allowed to do so. ~~ The Player List A Little Green* - veteran hunter with a striking resemblance to an opossum Boromir88 - incompetent gatewarden Eönwë - hunter Glirdan - local batty scholar Inziladun - weaponsmith Legate of Amon Lanc - jeweller with an affinity to the colour white Loslote - young tag-along girl with frizzy hair Nerwen - young and impatient hunter who makes animal statues of wood and likes the colour green Nogrod - narcoleptic master-hunter Ozban - young and naive hunter and admirer of Finrod Felagund Pitchwife - furrier Shastanis Althreduin - orphan solitary hunter who moves silently, likes blue and has a pet snake skip spence - an admirer of Finduilas's wilwarin538 - hunter The Admin Thread with the Rules