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Old 05-16-2020, 03:00 PM   #1385
Nogrod
Flame of the Ainulindalë
 
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Join Date: Jan 2006
Location: Wearing rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves
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Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.
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Day 7

Húrin, Morwen and the children had moved to the guesthouse after their last visitor had been quarantined. Even if it was truly embarrassing, it was much more comfortable there than in the back of the barn where they had spent their nights after the Great Hall had been made into the Quarantine-house. Now they had real beds, several rooms to choose and, what Húrin valued the most, some privacy.

That didn’t help him to sleep though. After securing that his family was asleep and the doors were locked, he sneaked into the Night to be alone with the stars. He knew the Valar, or something, was trying to aid him finding answers. He had fallen in a kind of trance every night under the starry sky and felt being approached by something. Like that night his brother was attacked.

Just before the dawn, as he was coming back from his half-dreams, he heard noises somewhere from behind him. Húrin stood up quickly unsheathing his sword, but there was no one there. He listened closely for the night. The air was tense, but there was nothing.

Then he heard it again. It was coming from the direction of the Guesthouse. Terror filled his heart as he rushed towards his family yelling “Drego Morn!” as he ran.

There were black shapes dashing all around him to the left and right – whether they were real or just some trickery of Morgoth, Húrin had no time or mind to find out. Suddenly he felt a blow in his forehead, coming out from the darkness. Time stopped.

Then he heard a yell. A yell of a terrified child!

Dashing off from the ground he realized he had hit a low branch of the village oak. He cursed his mindless splurging but hadn’t time to pay heed to anything but the sound he had just heard.

Getting finally round the corner of the Great Hall he reached the Guesthouse only to hear the screaming of Morwen and cries of Lalaith from inside – but what stopped him was the mauled and shivering body of little Brandir hanging in ropes from the doorway – all covered with blood, pleghm and sweat. He was hardly conscious, whining quietly his pain.

Húrin fell on his knees in front of the child and burst into tears.


~*~


Dead, yes dead

Nogrod – “The Badger”, the Mod (dead on Night1)
Urwen – Glóredhel, healthy person (withered away in grief during Day2)


Quarantined

Galadriel55 – Andróg, the Cobbler (voted into QT on Day1)
Rikae – Haldir, formerly healthy person (infected by the shady Infectors on Night2)
Huinesoron – Hareth, an Infector (voted into QT on Day2)
Kitanna – Huor, the Ranger (infected in the woods by the Infectors on Night3)
Sally – Túrin, the Hunter (voted into QT on Day3)
Macalaure – Grithnir, healthy person (dragged into the QT by the Hunter on Day3)
Legate of Amon Lanc – Asgon, healthy person (infected sneakily on Night4)
Lhunardawen – Sador, an Infector (voted into QT on Day4)
Lalaith – Rían, healthy person (overrun and infected by the Infectors on Night5)
Inziladun – Halmir, healthy person (voted into QT on Day5)
Pitchwife – Turin’s Nurse, healthy person (infected by the Infectors on Night6)
THE Ka – Indor, an Infector (voted into QT on Day6)
Shastanis Althreduin – Brandir, healthy little child (outrageously infected on Night7)


Hanging around

Thinlómien
Loslote
Kath
A Little Green
Boromir88
Brinniel
Eönwë
Rune Son of Bjarne



It’s now Day 7


It is time to have a discussion.
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Upon the hearth the fire is red
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet...
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