|
 |
|
Visit The *EVEN NEWER* Barrow-Downs Photo Page |
|
|
02-24-2008, 12:59 PM
|
#1 |
|
Woman of Secret Shadow
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: in hollow halls beneath the fells
Posts: 4,511
 |
Werewolf XLIV: In the House of Tom Bombadil
The summer of 2911 waned to autumn and then arrived winter. First snows appeared at the end of October. It was perfectly normal – until the Hobbits and other Northeners noticed that the snow didn't show any signs of melting, nor was the cold breaking. Earth was covered by a thick, white blanket that gained height daily. The sun had seemingly deserted the North. In December, food was already getting scarce. And then came the wolves.
** Late one night, in the middle of December, a miserable figure scratched the door of a little house that was nestled under the shoulder of hills, at the edge of a forest. By the time the door was opened, a new layer of snow had almost covered its tracks. The creature was skinny and shivering, its white fur dull and heavy with frozen snow. It cowered from the light that came from the inside. ”Oh, look at her!” cried the woman at the door. ”She's sick and hungry. We can't leave her out there; she will freeze to death in no more than one night!” The creature turned to look at the woman with a strange, almost triumphant expression in her feverish, gherkin-coloured eyes - as if she had understood every single word. Slowly, she pattered over the wide stone threshold, and a golden light was all about her. ** After being banished by their villages and neighbours, some poor beggars had gathered together, eventually broken into the mounds and formed their own little community on the Barrow-downs. They weren't treated any more kindly by the winter than some others more fortunate. When everything burnable was burnt and everything edible, except for a certain duck, eaten, the unofficial leader of the outcasts, Nogrod the Agreeable, summoned a meeting in the Great Barrow. ”We can't keep going on like this”, he said. ”We must admit the inevitable: we're going to die if we don't get more food soon.” ”Aye,” observed Rikae the Kind, ”I get stomachaches from the food offerings left to the king with whom we share a barrow.” ”Don't you say I haven't told you to keep away from them! It's your own fault if you don't heed my words!” Durelin cried at her. ”And the Yule is only a few days away...” sighed McCaber sadly. ”Is there any way we could please the Powers of the West?” asked Mithalwen the Perpetually Sane and Serene. ”Like the people in the old tales!” continued satansaloser2005, knocking her stick on the floor. ”You know, the first year they sacrificed oxen, the second year men... And when they sacrificed the king in the third year, the crops returned...” She eyed Nogrod ponderingly. ”I've always found you more ox-looking than some people here,” Nerwen joined the discussion. ”Back to the business,” interrupted Boromir88 the Silent One. ”I say we don't go begging to Bree if we just can avoid it.” ”Because they would catch you and put you in jail for pickpocketing, eh?” ”That was not too kind of you, Rikae!” Mithalwen rebuked her. ”I suppose I'd get more food in prison than here anyway. Don't start quarrelling now.” ”Yes, I agree with you, Boro - we can't go there. They would just turn us out again...” ”Now, you're optimistic, A Little Green. They don't have any more food than we do but they don't want to eat their own relatives and neighbours,” THE Ka observed dryly. ”Daddy...” Meneltarmacil plucked at Boro's sleeve. ”What about asking that merry fellow down the hill if he could put us up for the Yule?” Mithalwen aired the thought that had probably crossed everyone's mind. ”Are you nuts, dear?” asked Nerwen, ”there's no trusting a person like that. I, for one, am not going to let my little one have any dealings with him!” ”Are you rather going to let your little one starve, then?” snapped Volo and put his hand protectively on McCaber's shoulder. ”Daddy!” Macalaure the Guileless plucked at Boro's sleeve.” ”You never know what mushrooms that grandpa will feed to your children!” ”But Mummy, mushrooms are good, aren't they?” Gwathagor looked confused. ”Daddy! There's a big dog at the door!” ** The wolf has already been there for a while, observing the beggars and their argument. Now she starts walking towards them, her motions controlled yet graceful. She looks well-fed and well-pleased, her white fur is thick and shiny, her eyes gleam with amusement. And although she could be considered an easy prey by the starving, no one raises their hand against her. She walks to the middle of the ring, stretches and lies down. Then she opens her mouth, and her voice is like honey. ”What an awful weather, don't you think? I'm sure it must be rather horrible here in these cold and damp barrows...” She smiles at the nodding beggars. ”That's what we thought with my master also. Now, we got this idea of inviting you to be guests in his house, to feast and celebrate the Yule. Nice to see that the same idea has seemingly occurred to some of you as well,” she says, smiling at Mithalwen and Nerwen, and lets her gaze wander over the beggars, who eye one another reservedly, not knowing what to say. Finally, Thinlómien decides for everybody. ”We accept your offer gratefully,” she says. Nerwen looks at her as if she wished to object, but doesn't say a word. The wolf smiles again. ”You're welcome to come, then. Tomorrow, shall we say?” She gets up and is about to jump out, but a small voice stops her. ”What's your name? I have never seen a talking animal before.” The expression on McCaber's face is genuinely curious. The wolf turns to look at the child. ”Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? So sorry. You can call me Death.” ** That night some barrow-wights got caught by wolves. A blizzard hid the inhuman noises, but the beggars slept shivering, and every once in a while someone stirred for a moment to listen to the howling of the wind before dozing off again. Behind the clouds, the Moon travelled its way through the sky. It was already sinking when three hideously deformed shadows returned to the barrows they had used to haunt. They picked themselves new bodies to inhabit. ** In the mid-day, the beggars set off for the little house at the edge of the forest. They had taken with them the little property they had, and all were in a gay mood. Even the old Barrow-Wight was asked to join the merrymaking. ** The players Nogrod the Agreeable, the leader of the beggars his wife, Nerwen Gwathagor, their child elderly couple; Rikae the Kind and Durelin Boromir88 the Silent One, an ex-pickpocket his wife, Mithalwen the Perpetually Sane and Serene their children Macalaure the Guileless and Meneltarmacil satansaloser2005, a slightly mad crippled woman Volo, a young widowed man his child, the Right Honourable McCaber THE Ka, a blind old woman orphaned little Thinlómien and her little sister A Little Green It is now Night 1. The wolves may PM. No posting here yet.
__________________
He bit me, and I was not gentle. Last edited by Aganzir; 02-24-2008 at 01:02 PM. |
|
|
|
02-25-2008, 01:00 PM
|
#2 |
|
Woman of Secret Shadow
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: in hollow halls beneath the fells
Posts: 4,511
|
Night 1
The Yule has turned into night. It has begun to snow again, but inside the house it is warm and cosy. Although the room is otherwise dark, the embers are still glowing red in the wide hearth. Some people are sleeping in another room, but most have their mattresses laid on the floor and lie deep in drunken sleep, happy and their stomachs full after feasting. Someone snores lightly, one mutters something in his sleep.
Fear nothing! For tonight you are under the roof of Tom Bombadil! Death has been curled up in front of the hearth for the most of the evening, only her eyes flickering greenish light every now and then, but now she gets up and stretches. Goldberry's words still echo in her ears. She patters softly amidst the sleepers towards the wall and pushes a door open. With a new determination, she treads over the short passage until she comes to another door. Inside, two persons are sleeping. She stands upon the threshold for a moment, then enters the room. ** Tom Bombadil wakes up suddenly. Sharp fangs tear the flesh of his throat. ”I am sorry, Tom,” an almost gentle voice whispers in his ear. ”You know, I always rather liked you.” Tom's eyes are not quite merry anymore. He tries to lift his hand but doesn't manage to do it. Soft footsteps move to the other side of the bed. ”Besides, if I didn't know you don't really die...” A sound of a tearing fabric. ”At least this easily, I would probably just have evicted you for a while...” Death claws Goldberry's stomach open. ”But you cannot deny that it's much funnier this way. And you would have spoiled my Yule. I know you will understand.” She sounds almost apologetic. When she is done, she leaves the room, in search for the Barrow-wight. ** A sleeper wakes up suddenly. A dark shape, surrounded by dim, red light, is standing next to his mattress. For a moment he blinks his eyes, as if trying to remember where he is. Then, a look of recognition and affection passes over his face. ”What's this? A werewolf caught off his guard?” she mocks him gently. ”Has it begun?” ”Yes.” ”Why didn't you wake us up until now?” asks another voice. ”I wanted to have some fun all by myself. It's so much more intense, you know.” ”But you killed them all!” ”And you will kill the rest in nights to come. Fair enough.” A third voice interrupts the discussion. ”The night is passing and we still have work to do.” The corners of Death's mouth turn upwards. ”Good. Go plotting, then. And please take that green thing away with you. It smells.” ”Here is to victory!” the pack greets her. ”To world domination, rather!” ** The beggars woke up in the grey morning only to notice that the fire had gone out and the house was cold. Neither Tom Bombadil nor Goldberry was to be seen. The whole world was silent; an oppressing, almost threatening air was about the house. A slimy green trail led from one corner of the room to the door. At its end lay the shapeless body of the Barrow-wight. This raised the beggars' suspicions. Rikae and Durelin rushed to the room where the host and the hostess were supposed to be sleeping, but there was no one there. Only the torn blankets bore evidence of that something out of ordinary had indeed happened in the night. Nogrod and Volo tried the front door of the house, but it was stuck. ”It looks like the lock has frozen,” observed Boro. ”We cannot get out,” said Nerwen. ”Trapped!” cried Ka. ”Why did we delay?” But the house wasn't as deserted as it had first seemed. The white wolf was lying on her back in front of the newly rekindled fire, and the children were stroking her. ”What on earth has happened here?” asked Mithalwen, a trace of panic in her voice. Death opened one eye, then turned to her stomach. ”Nothing of great interest.” She smirked maliciously. ”Some sweet little bunnies just got hungry in the night, I think.” ”Speak more plainly,” demanded sally. ”If you insist...” Death stretched the words. She was seemingly enjoying the situation. ”Naturally, I know nothing about it. I just happened to pass by last night and saw three werewolves chatting in a corner. They're going to kill you all, that's what they said.” A shocked silence followed her words. Her smile grew wider. ”Oh my,” whispered Nogrod. ”Escaping hunger and frost to be caught by wolves...” Lommy started crying and hugged Greenie tightly. Macalaure looked shaken and just sat where he was, Menel ran to his mother. ”I feel so helpless,” McCaber sobbed. However, there was one who knew from the first moment what he was going to do: ”I want to kill them!” shouted Gwathagor, "and I have a foolproof way to find them! Everyone who calls me Gwathy is a wolf!" ”How aggressive a child you are, little Gwathy,” observed Death, turned to another side and began to sleep. ** Alive: Nogrod the Agreeable, the leader of the beggars his wife, Nerwen Gwathagor, their child elderly couple; Rikae the Kind and Durelin Boromir88 the Silent One, an ex-pickpocket his wife, Mithalwen the Perpetually Sane and Serene their children Macalaure the Guileless and Meneltarmacil satansaloser2005, a slightly mad crippled woman Volo, a young widowed man his child, the Right Honourable McCaber THE Ka, a blind old woman orphaned little Thinlómien and her little sister A Little Green Dead: Tom Bombadil (ranger) - killed on Night 1 Goldberry (seer) - killed on Night 1 The Barrow-wight (hunter) - killed on Night 1 It is now Day 1. Wolves stop PMing. Start talking.
__________________
He bit me, and I was not gentle. |
|
|
|
|
02-25-2008, 01:01 PM
|
#3 |
|
Shade with a Blade
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: A Rainy Night In Soho
Posts: 2,512
  |
First!
__________________
Stories and songs. |
|
|
|
|
02-25-2008, 01:13 PM
|
#4 |
|
Shady She-Penguin
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: In a far land beyond the Sea
Posts: 8,093
 |
Quite a disgusting situation we're in... trapped in a house, our hosts dead and companied by a rather annoying hound.
 Well, what is there to say, except to comment that Gwathy looks rather over-enthusiastic?  At least that I'm interested to see how a giftedless village works and rather enthusiastic too: now we can pursue suspicious behaviour without worrying that we're flushing out gifteds. Personally, I think this is a great advantage for us and also with no gifteds we can have no gifted impersonators... I'm also looking forward to taking the challenge of using my own brains instead of waiting for a seer revelation.
__________________
Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill I will conquer Blood is running deep, some things never sleep Double Fenris
|
|
|
|
|
02-25-2008, 01:14 PM
|
#5 | |
|
Shady She-Penguin
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: In a far land beyond the Sea
Posts: 8,093
|
Quote:
__________________
Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill I will conquer Blood is running deep, some things never sleep Double Fenris
|
|
|
|
|
|
02-25-2008, 01:16 PM
|
#6 |
|
Shade with a Blade
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: A Rainy Night In Soho
Posts: 2,512
|
Hush.
__________________
Stories and songs. |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
Hybrid Mode
