(Archive) Barad Nimothan — The Red Book of Westmarch

*note - Log supplied by Rorgan*

Barad Nimothan - Audience Chamber(#8748Rn)

The audience chamber of the Nimothan is more a library and office than a grand throne-room, but it has always served its purpose well, offering Nimothan officials a place to conduct house business privately. The room itself is carved out of the solid stone of the side of Mount Nardol, and is lit by several lamps which are kept burning except in times of great distress.

Cases of books line the walls of the room, and at the center is a table similar to the grand table in the great hall just outside the guilded doors to this room. Chairs and reading desks are also in ample evidence in this room.

Contents:

Anborn

Faengor

Rorgan

Obvious exits:

Gilt Doors

The night has drawn on and the revelers are well into their cups in the Great Hall of Barad Nimothan, yet from the festivities slipped away one man, nearly unnoticed save he is the host. Leaving quiet word for two specific men to be found and \'invited\' to the more private Audience Chamber, there the tall Steward of Barad Nimothan, Rorgan, can be found sitting behind a broad table, idly perusing a large tome of some sort or another while he waits for the two men to find their way hither.

[Faengor(#18480)] As the double gilt doors to the Private Audience chamber are opened by unseen hands the humble posture of the once proud Faengor is revealed, dressed in the official uniform of Minas Tirith. His silent eyes gaze over the familiar room as he remains standing at the door for a few seconds, unsure of his prescense. Finally he enters, his grim and silent steps softly resounding trough the audience chamber as he walks forth to Rorgan\'s desk, his lips curled in the same fixed and grim curl. Not a word does he speak as he advances, his lips perched together tightly.

[Anborn(#24151)] A minute, an hour an eternity rolls past, and then: the tall doors roll open. And there is Anborn, arrayed in his own livery that being green and brown, bland and muddy. The rainment of a noble without house, but far from without nobility a plain sword sits on the plain belt about the waist of his plain leather pants, and the clap of the leather soles of his plain boots on the stone floor reaches even to the rafters as he walks in.

Offering each of the men a seat as they enter, Rorgan is, those who know him would say, strangely silent. Indeed, for one who put forth the summons, it should be odd that he would not say anything, but that is the way of him at this time. As Anborn arrives, he nods to the man, not speaking his name, and pushes aside the tome, seemingly in wait of something.

[Faengor(#18480)] Anborn\'s arrival seems as a signal for Faengor to aproach the the desk and Rorgan. with silent steps Faengor nears the seat, the same grim silence still clearly readable on his face, his lips still curled in the same fixed and grim curl and his eyes still silent and grim, having lost their twinkling. Turning to Rorgan he clenches his right hand into a fist, before slamming it against his breast, near his heart to greet him. As the fist is pressed against his heart he speaks, inclining his head to him, \"You have requested for me Captain Rorgan, Steward of Barad Nimothan. Here I am, Man-at-arms Faengor of Minas Tirith.\"

Then he seats himself.

A nod, then, is given to the salute of Faengor, perhaps even less acknowledgement than he had given the Ranger on his entrance, and the Captain crosses his arms across his chest, still seeming to wait for an eternity before he breaks his silence with a calm, quiet question, \"Now. What is this I hear about a duel, gentlemen?\"

[Anborn(#24151)] Leather creaks hard tanned and rarely used, the dried skin catches on the Rangers clothes as he seats himself upon the proferred divan. \"A matter of honour,\" Says he, voice deadly calm and his grey eyes glitter as he speaks, \"As would be resolved already. Your man has lent insult to a... friend. I chose to champion the offended party.\" Then the tall man leans back in his chair, brushing an errant lock of his lengthy raven hair from \'fore his eyes, whilst fingers drum on the pommelstone of the sword now set across his lap.

\"As much has reached mine own ears, even to the detriment of having it brought forth at high feast,\" says Rorgan with a shake of his head. \"Are you such stubborn men that there is no other way to settle this matter than with swords? This smacks of the work of the Nameless One, and I shall not tolerate such as that in my own household or upon my watch.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] ot a word passes the Lone Man-at-Arm\'s perched lips as he seats himself in the chair, his dreary eyes set upon the Captain, silently gazing at him as he clenches his hands together, resting his chin upon them as he thinks. His eyes close for several seconds as he thinks, before speaking as his eyes open oncemore, \"I was challenged by Lord Anborn, Captain\" he speaks with a polite and respecting, yet dry and grim voice, \"He gave me two options. Accept the duel or apologize to Lady Caladrielinde --\" his voice stocks for a second, then he speaks oncemore with the same monotonous tone, \"You have known me for long captain, you know my vanity and pride. Yet I shall do as you command, Captain.\"

[Anborn(#24151)] \"Full thrice I granted him the chance to offer up his apology,\" Anborn retorts, \"And fully thrice did he refuse, most spitefully. That left no recourse but to lend it to a contest...\"

[Tamran(#30063)] Loud does the noise of foot steps from the hall sound upon the cold stone of the unusually silent Barad Nimothan. The handle of the door sudenly moves and slowly the unlocked Gilt door opens with a faint noise. Passing under the doorway and closing the door behind him, Tamran makes his way towards a corner of the chamber, after bowing silently towards the Captain seating behind his desk. Leaning against a bookshelf, he listens carefully at what is said, although knowing what this is all about.

But a glance is spared the Sergeant as he enters, and even as the man seats himself, the Captain motions him to come forward ere he speaks in clipped tones, \"This is not Dol Amroth, Lord Anborn. And, despite all the honors you have rightfully earned, you are not a Knight. The Steward does not place his trust in men lightly, nor does his younger son. Would you destroy that trust and the honor of our leaders by allowing such as this to continue? It is and was not your own honor at stake here, Lord Anborn. While I am certain that the Braggolachs appreciate your sentiments, it is their place and the place of Faengor and myself to determine what reparations need be made, if any.\"

Yet, before the Ranger can reply, Rorgan addresses his kinsman, \"Aye. You, Faengor, have been vain and proud to a fault in the past. It is time for you to take your place among the *men* of Gondor and stop acting like a spoiled child. I have no doubt in my mind that you are in the wrong in this, Faengor, and though I believe that a good beating at the hands of Lord Anborn just might teach you a lesson, I fear that it may have exactly the opposite effect. I know you have repaired to Minas Tirith and have been living as the lowliest of Guardsmen in the common barracks, Faengor. You have given up the trappings of this house and have taken to sulking in the shadows like some foul creature of the East. I will have no more of this, understand?\"

Then does the Captain fall silent again, to see the impact of such harsh words on each of the men.

[Anborn(#24151)] \"I would court the girl,\" Says Anborn, shaking his head \"That meaning her honour is as mine though you might not call me \'Knight\', I am a son out of what was once one of the noblest of houses, and am called \'Lord\', even by you yourself.\" The wry sneer that takes his lip might prove his distaste, \"In this though, I will deferr to you, or to Erinhaim my friend this being your house and your kinsman. But for my part, I should settle for nothing less than that which I asked of this man: his apology, bowed before the lady he lent insult to. From any man, that is a little thing to demand.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] It is for the somanieth time that the Man-at-Arms bows his head in shame, closing his eyes to keep his tears inside as he shields his face from thsoe around it, shrouding it in the shadows he creates. Yet pain can clearly be read on of him. Yet it is in such moments that the men (or spoiled boys) gain the courage to speak. Slowly his voice is raised, as he adresses the Lord and captain with a trembling voice, yet filled with the same respect and grimness of before, \"I will do as you command Captain,\" he begins, raising his eyes oncemore to the captain, revealing his face, \"Yet what is it you expect of me?\" he gulps, \"In the past months I have done nothing but wrong you and those around me.

Nodding to Anborn, Rorgan says, \"Indeed this does change things, but only slightly.\"

\"You, Faengor, shall begin the work of restoring your honor and standing among the men of Gondor, by making apology for the insults Lord Anborn has percieved, and in just the manner he describes.\"

\"Your discretion in this matter is appreciated, Lord Anborn, and I thank thee for it,\" he says to the Ranger.

Then, turning back toward Faengor, he says, \"As soon as this apology is made, as any good man should make one, Faengor, then you shall hear of this incident from me no more. It shall be erased from my mind.\"

\"And I remind you, young man, that disgrace in my own eyes lies not in the making of mistakes, but in failing to learn from the mistakes you make. Undo the words that you mistakenly chose, and all shall be well in this matter.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Biting his underlip, Faengor raises from his chair, blinking his eyes a few times to shield his tears and force them in. Stepping away from the chair and closer to the door he speaks as he slams his clenched fist against his heart, inclining his head to Rorgan, \"If such is your command Captain Rorgan,\" he speaks with teh same grim and bittered voice, \"then such I shall do.\"

[Tamran(#30063)] Silently does Tamran stand, a shadow among the shadows. His black cloathes hardly seeming to stir as he occasionaly sift his weight. His gaze always upon the three men, his eyes shining from the light of the lamps, he listens and on occasion noding or shaking his head at some words said.

\"Now, Sergeant,\" says the Captain, \"I want you to find Lady Neorxenawang of the Rohirrim and find out for me if her cousin has yet been found. I have spent much time ranging out into Anorien and along the Great West Road in both directions looking for the lass to no avail.\"

\"And you, Faengor, are not yet dismissed. It is long past time you learned the meaning of duty and honor, and I have no great book from which to teach you other than that which others have found in myself,\" says Rorgan, remaining seated, \"And Lord Anborn, if we may procrastinate the giving of this apology for a short while, one of the young lasses of the Rohirrim has gone missing, and I would ask your assistance in locating her.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Silently Faengor remains standing, grimly, as Rorgan orders him to remain, yet not a word does he speaks as he remains to gaze at his feet, shielding his face from peering eyes.

[Tamran(#30063)] \"As you wish Captain.\" Is the only words that come out from Tamran\'s mouth and with a simple salute he walks towards the door, without sparing a glance towards Faengor or Anborn. Slowly opening the door, he makes his way out and disspears from sight as the door closes behind him.

[Thorondur(#23126)] And into the audience chamber, at just that moment, comes either a paragon of duty and honor, or the personification of indiscretion -- depending, of course, on whom one asks. Thorondur Edrahil hir Girithlin, Knight-Herald of Dol Amroth, gallant or fop, chevalier or rake -- whatever he truly is, he smiles brightly upon arrival. \"Rorgan,\" he exclaims! \"I have been searching for you, my friend.\"

[Anborn(#24151)] \"For the hospitality my friends Nimothan have given and for the long friendship of Ithiliens\' folk with our allies in the North,\" Anborn acedes, \"I shall do as you ask.\" But a frown takes his brow and creases it, \"When was this girl lost, and where? If it were off the road, the rains might\'ve washed the tracks clean awa....\" The din of Thorondurs\' entrance steals all further words, drowning the Rangers\' voice.

Nodding, and half-rising to greet the Lord and Knight, Rorgan smiles in return, \"And so you have found me, Lord Girithlin. There is a tale to tell, for you and for Lord Anborn here, it seems, and I have been gone the length of the day in my own searching for it.\"

Then does Rorgan reseat himself and explain, \"There came to me, late last night, a woman of Rohan who said that her cousin had not returned for last night\'s feasting. One of the younger squires thought that he had seen her, but alas it was not the same girl. We have searched everywhere but the forest for the young woman, it seems, and I am loth to go there, for the sake of the men that are here to command.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] Tight-lipped, Thorondur takes in Rorgan\'s story as he sinks into a hastily-pulled chair. Frowning, he glances from the Steward of Nimothan to Anborn, eyes lingering briefly on the latter before looking back to Rorgan, and addressing him thusly: \"I had overheard small bits of this tale, but you are the first to tell it in full. The forest,\" he adds with a scowl. \"And did we not speak but days before of the wild men who haunt it?\"

Pausing, he turns his head to Anborn again, and asks after a pause, \"You serve the Lord Faramir, do you not? For no other Men of Gondor dress in such fashion as his doughty thanes.\"

\"Indeed it seems that our words were marked for some predestination, but that is of little consequence. But one place remains to search for the Rohirric woman, and indeed shall we needs turn our eyes thither, possibly with the rising of the sun,\" Rorgan says with a shake of his head. \"It would be madness to hope to find anything of her sooner.\"

[Myalinde(#3193)] Out of breath, cheeks stained with tears, lips and nose red with winter\'s kiss a middle-aged woman makes her way into the audience chamber letting the doors slam behin her. She falls to her knees before a captain and Lords, barely audible with lack of breath, but her visage suggests catatrophy, her stature one of worried sorrow.

[Anborn(#24151)] \"It is even so,\" Admits Anborn with an absent wave of a hand, \"But pray do not ask what errand brings me hither out from under the nameless shadow for that is sacresanct to mine heart, and may not be told. I shall say only that my sojourn here among the Nimothan is due to matters personal though, that now being resolved,\" He allows Rorgan a nod of his head, \"I shall return to\'t but, rather. Not until this luckless happenstance with the north-woman is resolved.\" But he sighs, his breast and shoulders heave \"I fear for her. The wild-men are little known to me, and if she has happened even into Druadan...\" His voice depends on an ominous note.

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"I have heard it told that those who follow brave Faramir moves like whispers through any wood, and that no mortal Man in this Age can rival their woodcraft,\" Thorondur says, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips his voice is hopeful as he speaks to Anborn. \"It may be that Fate has dropped you into our hands for this reason, yes? If that is the way of it, your Wild Wood stands no chance, Rorgan.\" Just then, the old woman bursts in, and the Herald turns, surprised.

[Ninvainiel(#18886)] Following close upon the heels of Myalinde, bearing an expression perplexed, Ninvainiel passes the gilt doors.

Looking down now to the nearly sobbing woman at his feet, Rorgan says in a kindly voice, \"Good woman, what troubles thee so?\" his long, slender fingers reach out toward the woman\'s hair in a soothing motion that is cut short by the realized impropriety of such a gesture being carried out. The woman has his full attention now, all others in the room, and entering the room, seem forgotten.

[Thorondur(#23126)] Too, the cultured, lilting tones of the Knight-Herald\'s voice, the accents of the Southern coastlands and Dol Amroth by the bay, are now turned to the sobbing woman in a simple, quiet question. \"Verily, lady, what evil has brought on this fit?\"

[Myalinde(#3193)] It is the familiar stranger of middle age that reaches up to the hands of the noble Captain, her cold hands grasping for Rorgan\'swrist. \"It\'s my child...she has been taken from me! You must help me...please!\" Her sobbing returns as she continues to kneel, and one could almost see her heartbeat pattering through her chest.

[Thorondur(#23126)] Standing now from his chair, the Lord Girithlin rises to his full height -- in riding leathers and feathered cap, he looks not unlike the Dunedain of Anorien, in this light. Yet that same melodious voice betrays him a single eybrow arches over his right eye with a glance toward Rorgam.

But one word does he speak: \"Changelings?\"

[Anborn(#24151)] But the Ranger laughs a merry peal, though it be somewhat tainted by woeful circumstance \"You\'ve doubtless heard tales that do us more justice than is deserved, then I should think. For though in each wives tale there is a glimmer of truth, it is but that and no more: a glimmer.\" A wry smile curls his lip, \"But, for this young ladys\' part I hope the reputation of my folk is deserved, if only in part.\"

\"Fie, Rorgan!\" Chides the Ranger, \"Is there no lady in your household to care for this matre? Summon a maid and have her rested, for she seems me quite distraut.\" The Ranger stands and lays a comforting hand upon the womans\' shoulder, even despite the Knight-Heralds\' ever curious words. \"Be sure, lady.\" Says he, \"What can be done shall be done.\"

Coming forward out of his chair and kneeling to come face to face with the woman, his own eyes seemingly at the verge of matching her own tears, Rorgan\'s hand now reaches out and is laid softly upon the top of the woman\'s head as he asks quietly, \"And, pray tell, who has done such a thing as this, my good woman?\"

Then does he look up toward the Ranger, \"Aye, all in good time, Lord Anborn. Let her tell first of her tale, for it seems to be burning a hole in her chest.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"In Dol Amroth, there are stories of faeries in the ancient wood, faeries who steal the children of Men and replace them with...\" Thorondur\'s voice trails off, the usually certain Knight-Herald perhaps realizing that his line of thought may upset the old woman even further.

Ninvainiel, halted short now in the doorway, takes a step backwards to the wall. Her expression is not easily read confusion, horror, compassion, flickering alternately in the faint twitchings of her muscles.

She moves forward, clearing her throat rather meekly, though when she finally finde her voice it is low and even. \"My lord,\" she says, addressing Anborn with a nod.

Myalinde looks up into the kind eyes of the Captain. Catching her breath, her hand to her heaving chest, she manages to control her wailing for a moment to explain the situation. She, my only daughter, was helping collect wood with me for a cool winter\'s eve. She was close behind me. So close and yet when I entered into the house, she did not follow. I heard a crash...\" She looks longingly at a glass upon a small desk...\"I went out to help the clumsy girl pick up her stack, but I saw her being taken!\" She covers her eyes. \"I ran after them, but darkness had started to engulf the trees about my house. I could not see where they went...\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] For his part, the Lord Girithlin now stands aloof, having no part in the hysterics and high emotion elsewhere in the chamber. Calmly drawing his folded gloves from the belt at his waist, Thorondur coolly begins pulling them on over slender fingers and deft hands -- preparing, of a certainty, to venture out into the night.

A long sigh does escape the lips of Rorgan, and even as he sees where the woman\'s eyes linger, he nods to Faengor, instructing the young man, \"Here, Faengor, show the good woman what an honorable lad you are and fetch her a pitcher and glass of water.\" Then his eyes return to the womans, \"Was it Yrch?\" he asks. \"Orcs?\" He shakes his head, \"More importantly, which way did they take her, and how many were they?\" So many questions to be answered, and yet the Lord tries to maintain a delicate tone with the woman, soothing her despite all the superstitions, some true, about the dark Druadan Wood.

[Faengor(#18480)] Good, be a waiter, that\'ll help him regain his honor.

Silently Faengor had been standing near the wall, his hands clasped together and his lips curled in the same grim silence as he silently overheared the conversation, his lips perched together carefully, not speaking a word.

Then, as the Steward of Barad Nimothan adresses him, the Man-at-Arms quickly takes a step forward, listening to hsi words carefully with a bowed head, his eyes still set upon the carpet beneath his feet. Upon receiving the words, the Guard inclines his head quickly, placing his clenched fist on his heart for briskly, before running off to fetch the woman a glass of water like the good boy he is.

Myalinde shakes her head at the suggestion of Yrch. \"No.. we\'ve had our share of those vile creatures. These looked like men! Like us...butdifferent. Perhaps...disfigured somehow. There were five or maybe..no.. /six/ of them. Too many for me to try and fight.\" The woman clenches her fist. \"I followed them into the woods but had to turn back. I had no light to guide my way, nor weapons to avenge my daughter. I turned back and ran here.\" Her words are sloppy now, caught in her throat in an almost hesitation.

[Thorondur(#23126)] As the Lord Thorondur begins checking the buckles of his swordbelt and the straps of his leathers, the doors open once more, and Sir Calladan -- his aide-de-camp and one-time squire -- appears from the great hall. The knights\' eyes meet, and the younger man says to the Herald, \"M\'lord, there is a group of Rohirrim growing rather distraught in the yard. It was Erindil\'s hope that perhaps you might help to calm them, sir.\"

Looking grimly between Myalinde and her story, and then his aide, Thorondur frowns, concerned yet untroubled, the expression of an old campaigner. \"Indeed,\" he says in a low, dry voice. \"It would seem children are disappearing like acorns at a tournament of squirrels. Gather the brethren, Cal. It looks like we\'ll be hunting the Druadan this night.\"

At the cool pronouncement of his lord, Calladan\'s face pales, yet he nods.

[Ninvainiel(#18886)] There is a clearly skeptical cast to the Lady Telpekhor\'s features at talk of fey folk in the woods, but moreso there is pity, and she goes to lay a hand upon the kneeling woman\'s shoulder.

\"Six, then, and mannish? And you followed them into the woods? Have you not heard the stories and rumors of that place?\" Rorgan rises to his feet, \"Indeed we shall, Lord Thorondur,\" he replies as he removes his hand from the matron\'s head, \"And if she is to be found at all, my good woman, then we are the men to do it. Summon all the able of body to the Great Hall, and let us take a short council before we depart.\"

[Anborn(#24151)] A knowing murmur stirs the room goblins, most assuredly \"I shall go with the utmost haste,\" Anborn proclaims, \"For if it were orcs, they would leave a trampling even the rains could not hide, even from men with little skill as hunters.\" But he seems close-lipped, thinking better of speculation as to the deeds that orcish folk might do with a woman, were she taken \"But if it was the wild men, who are little seen but much heard of... I do not know. But we shall see, for hope comes with the dawn.\" With that, the raven-haired man strikes out toward the gilt doors, which roll open before him, out into the hall of the keep, and then to the gates beyond.

[Faengor(#18480)] To the back of the room, the sound of fresh water being poured into a glass from out of a crystal bowl can clearly be heared. Silently Faengor gazes at the glass of crystal clear water he is pouring for the woman, his left hand tightly clenched around the glass as his right hand is clenched around the bowl. Once the glass is poured the bowl is set back with a sooft thud, and then Faengor\'s gaze turns to the crowd that is gathered around the woman. For a few seconds his grim gaze lingers on the woman.

Finally then he moves to the woman, nimbly and with the humility of a servant, his lips perched together and his voice silent as ever. In a wide bow he walks around the crowd before finally ending up behind Myalinde, stretching out his right hand to present her the glass with crystalclear water, before speaking with a soft and sober voice, \"Lady, your water.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"Immediately, m\'lord,\" breathes Calladan, finally speaking after Rorgan, too, seems set for action. With a curt nod to the Lord Girithlin, the brave young knight leaves swiftly for the hall.

Left behind -- if only for the moment -- Thorondur looks to Rorgan and touches his brow in salute. \"I and my Knights,\" he pledges, looking at the Lady Telpekhor askance for some unheralded reason of his own, \"are yours to command in this, old friend.\"

Myalinde nods at the Captain as even more salt falls from her watery eyes. At the last sentence the woman cringes and grabs the Lady Ninvainiel\'s comforting hand upon her shoulder, to perhaps steady her. \"If she is to be found at all?!?!\" The amount of alarm in her voice fades as she hangs her head and sobs, catching the tears in her already dirt stained and torn dress. She ignores the offer of water for the moment, and then looks up at Faengor\'s kind gesture and graciously takes the glass from his hand.

[Faengor(#18480)] A fain smile rests upon Faengor\'s otherwise bitter lips as he gazes upon the woman with warm eyes, keeping the glass stretched out towards her, waiting for her to accept it, his fingertops gently brushing over her hand as she accepts in a wierd attempt to soothe her nerves. THen as the glass is accepted, the Man-at-Arms takes a few steps back, leaving the Lords and officers to their duties.

\"I do not mean to worry you overly much, good woman,\" says Rorgan soothingly, \"it was just a figure of speech.\" But no, it was the Truth when it was spoken, and even the tall greying-blonde Steward\'s attempts to soothe the woman can not hide the fact that with each passing hour the situation grows more grim.

Ninvainiel reaches forward to place a hand under the kneeling woman\'s elbow, drawing her gently up. She faces Myalinde, bending forward to look up with sympathy into her face, and shielding her from the grim preparations of the men behind.

\"Come,\" she says softly, urging the woman towards a seat. \"Ease your disquietude and sit, for such tears will not help your child!\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] A grim nod, and a hard look about the room -- efficient, experienced. Thorondur\'s fair face betrays little emotion as he says to the woman, and to all who listen, \"The Lord Rorgan is right. And every minute wasted is another minute our quarry eludes us. Let us gather in the hall, then, with the others.\" And with that, and one solemn clapping together of his hands in finality, he is gone to do just that.

Barad Nimothan - Great Hall(#8872Rn)

The entire breadth of the tower at this level is devoted to a great hall, decorated with many tapestries and paintings dipicting the past Lords and prominent figures among the Nimothan. A large table, suitable either for feasting or casual occupancy occupies the center of the room, and chairs and various tables line the walls. A stairway leading into the upper reaches of the tower, occupies most of the Southern face of this room, and near the foot of the stairs, double doors, each inlaid in gilt bronze and silver depicting a white ram atop a mountain peak offer entrance to the private audience chamber used by the house Lords and other officials for conducting that part of house business which must take place behind closed doors. To the right of the gilt doors is what would appear to be a dressing table, complete with mirror.

Contents:

Bronmellon

Faengor

Durandir

Thorondur

Rorgan

Obvious exits:

Gilt Doors and Gate

[Thorondur(#23126)] The Great Hall of the family NImothan mills with activity. Liveried servants and soldiers of the House move about anxiously, while at their usual dining table, the Lord Thorondur addresses his dozen southern Knights.

\"Only Calladan and I,\" he is saying, \"have any great experience with woodcraft. Most of you would hinder this search ere you help it yet the NImothan\'s men know these woods better than any.\" Frowning, he explains to his men, \"You must remain here, and take their place in defence, while they scour the woods. I will ride with them, and Calladan, but know that yours is no lesser duty.\"

And to their credit, the Knights of Dol Amroth take their assignment in stride. None seem at all disappointed they are not seekers after glory, but honor-bound liegemen of Imrahil. They know their duty well, indeed.

[Bronmellon(#18886)] The hollow thump of leather bootheels upon the ground echoing in the great hall declares the arrival Bronmellon, his lean face dour but his eyes bright with anticipation.

[Durandir(#30040)] \"You and your Knights are hers to command.\" As the congression steps out from the inner chambers, the first thing in sight is a haggard looking figure standing against the wall. His flesh and body is shrouded in black. At his side -- or more fittingly, at his back, is another unafraid to show his face. Sir Dirhavel wards his charge grimly.

\"You and your Knights are hers to command.\" The robed figure speaks again. \"A Knight only in name I am. But I am still a Knight.\" With one fair swoosh, hood is cast off, and Durandir is revealed. His head is lowered -- awaiting judgement.

[Thorondur(#23126)] The Great Hall of the family Nimothan mills with activity. Liveried servants and soldiers of the House move about anxiously, while at their usual dining table, the Lord Thorondur addresses his dozen southern Knights.

\"Only Calladan and I,\" he is saying, \"have any great experience with woodcraft. Most of you would hinder this search ere you help it yet the Nimothan\'s men know these woods better than any.\" Frowning, he explains to his men, \"You must remain here, and take their place in defence, while they scour the woods. I will ride with them, and Calladan, but know that yours is no lesser duty.\"

Bullvye The Sperewigend comes walking in, totting his spear and opens his helm\'s face mask and looks at the Gondorians \" What am I needed for?\" he asks quietly looking at all present in here, his light blue eyes darting to the knights and guardsmen(re)

Finally emerging from the doors of gilt comes the Steward of Barad Nimothan himself, right on the heels of the Knight Herald\'s instructions to his men, and near to the Lord Girithlin, Rorgan places his hand upon a chair as if he is about to climb it and nods toward Thorondur\'s words as they are spoken, yet he remains silent as the hall continues to fill. His eyes take in the man who would be his son, and then the concern mounts on his face as he again looks toward the Girithlin.

Finally, the Captain climbs atop the chair and with a loud clap of his hands, he raises his voice, \"Perhaps many of you have already heard that I and my men have spent the last day scouring Anorien near and far for the lost cousin of Lady Neorxenawang of Rohan.\" He takes a deep breath and continues, \"Needless to say, she has not been found, and, to add insult to injury, now has a young woman from Anorien near been taken into the woods, by the Woses, we think.\"

Again the Captain takes a deep breath, and his words are loud and clear for all to hear, \"We shall make our forray into the Druadan Wood at dawn, and that leaves us but little time to make what good council can be made in such a matter of this.\"

[Xena(#29915)] Hearkening to the summons of the Steward are two more, their breath in soft clouds about them as they close the great doors upon the chill fingers of winter. The woman, her hair flows free, and is cloaked in black, accompanied by a kinsman by the hue of his golden hair, and weary are the lines of their faces, and yet proud still.

[Bullvye(#21290)] nods now knowing why the Woses were out in droves tonight. \" Sir, I was on guard duty this night, The Woses are out in droves right now, torenting something. I heard the scream as did others.\" he states seeing if this might be of some help. He turns to Gywnham and Xena noding then looks back to the others

[Thorondur(#23126)] The Knights of Dol Amroth, though but two of them only will set forth on this perilous venture into the darken wood of nightmare and legend, cease all conversation, during and after the pronouncement of Rorgan of Nimothan. Seasoned military men, they will allow their leader -- the Herald, Lord Girithlin -- to speak for them. Yet for his part, he is content to stand silent a long moment, and allow others to speak their counsel.

As stands the Captain atop his chair while the pronouncement of the Rider is made, loud clear tones then ring out into the hall again, \"Come forth, then, Rider, and state your name for all to hear, and tell us of what you have heard in the forest this night.\" He places a hand on Thorondur\'s shoulder and leans down then, whispering something toward the man\'s ear... \"What then is your council in this? Shall we do better to split our forces or to march in all together?\"

[Bronmellon(#18886)] Woolen cloak of twilit grey swathed about his rawboned limbs, Bronmellon sets the butt off his longbow on the floor before him. He eyes the milling crowd laconically, running his hand along the taut bowstring before him slowly.

\"He thinks the woses are kidnappers?\" he says, his words drawling forth slowly to a companion. \"They swarm numerous tonight, and we will go hunting them on short notice and a suspicion?\"

Bullvye Steps forth removing the helm from his head and holds it in his arm. He turns to the group. \" I am Bullvye, son of Hygealac from Dunlostir. I had guard duty. we usually think nothing of the Woses, but for the past two nights they have been out laughing, causing mischif in the wood, tonight weheard a scream as Riders came in, not of a man, maybe a woman. The Woses were cackling aftewards. They have something I know that. I do not know what, sadly.\" he says then goes and stands besides his kinsmen

[<#23126>] Stroking his beardless chin, the fair-faced Lord Girithlin gives thought to the report of the Rider, yet his sharp ears -- not pointed, whatever the tales may say -- do not fail to miss a stray bowman\'s comments. Only then does Thorondur look back to Rorgan, and reply to the Captain in tones likewise hushed. \"I think it best if we separate. We will be loud enough, I fear, in smaller groups. A large band alone will find nothing, should these Woses be as crafty as the stories say.\"

\'\'Well spoken, Bullvye, son of Hygealc from my own birthplace. Have you among you men who will not grumble such as these guardsmen do at the notion of going into the Haunted Forest, or shall we leave those whom we have sworn to protect to the tender mercies of the wild creatures of the forest?\'\' asks Rorgan glaring at a group of guardsmen who are so obviously shocked at the proposition that they have fallen to murmering amongst themselves. Then does he nod to Thorondur, and his tones again take a quiet tone, \"Aye, and it will be a difficult proposition indeed to separate these riders from their horses.\"

Bullvye nods \" yes some fellow Riders and myself would venture into the wood with someone who knows their way and we will hunt the Woses with you, if that is what you ask for.\" he taps his spear butt on the ground and nods as some riders behind him nod

[Durandir(#30040)] Finally, Durandir takes a bold step forward, before his escort can counter. \"Calladan and you Lord Thorondur.\" The fallen Knight whispers. \"Sir Calladan is as stewlart heart as any in the order. I can no longer claim that. I can no longer claim anything.\" Tears gently begin to flow down his dry cheek.

Durandir slowly turns his head towards Rorgan. His head slides down his neck further. \"I not beg. For would be vulgar even now. I ask, as any who love their fathers, even if they do not share in loyalty, do so.\"

\"Let me come and redeem myself.\"

[<#23126>] With a glance toward the fair-haired Riders of Rohan, Thorondur allows himself a curt, grim nod. \"True enough. Their horses, and their superstitions. We hear the legends in Dol Amroth, but to us they are but that: legends. We have faced worse.\" Sighing, he purses his lips, then adds, \"What will these men who have never faced the Eastern darkness think? Will they hold their bravery, or quail? I hope for the latter, yet -- one can never be certain until the moment is upon us.\"

[Bronmellon(#18886)] \"We will not shirk our sworn duty, Lord,\" says Bronmellon in a voice louder now, unwinding his spare form and stepping forward with his head held high. \"But is this not a council, and might I not speak my mind?\"

The man pauses, standing firm though others of his order look upon him with eyes disapproving. \"To ride into the haunted wood blindly- to hunt half-men who may or may not hold those whom we seek - is this not utter folly?\"

[Argamir(#27619)]

The guards at the gate step aside quickly, as another Minas Tirith soldier rushes into the Great Hall, his breathing hard as it seems he has been running a great deal, a sweat forming on his brow as he steps next to a group of fellow soldiers and listens.

[Xena(#29915)] As carven stone are the two latecome Eorlingas, their expressions somber as they survey the Men of Stoningland arrayed about the hall, some whispering words of discontent, others counselling patience, there is no unified purpose here, and the woman half turns, murmuring in low words to her companion, even as her eyes seek the door.

\'\'Hunt them not,\'\' says Rorgan in a clear, commanding voice, \'\'we do not wish to endanger the lives of those who are at their mercies. Bullvye, did any among you bring hounds for hunting in the wood?\'\' Then he turns again toward Lord Thorondur and nods, \"So it has been since the beginnings of the Dark Lord\'s work, my friend. Let us hope that such work as this is not afoot this eve. Mayhap should we take only those who would volunteer to go into the wood and leave a strong force behind in case it is some trick or devilry of the Nameless One.\"

Then does Rorgan acknowledge Bronmellon, \'\'Aye, sir...\'\' he seems to pause at failing to retrieve the man\'s name, \'\'speak your peace.\'\'

[Gwynham(#21696)] \"I fear my kinsman may be confusing a dream from the waking world!\" Cries another voice among the crowd -- one of the newly arrived. \"For the woses are nothing more than a fireside story to scare children into behaving the word of their parents.

Words spoken, the figure from which they come steps forward leaving the side of his kinswoman after laying a staying hand upon her shoulder. \"I have just returned from the Druadan woods and seen nor saw a living thing beneath the moonless sky! By the oath of Eorl, there is nothing astir for many leagues tonight!\" At last Gwynham subsides, falling quiet once more as he looks with doubt upon Bullvye.

[<#23126>] \"Indeed. Yet fear not for the defence: Ten stout and honorable Knights I leave here, with all our squires nearly two score men of the Belfalas will make your house safe at the least,\" Thorondur says, quietly, to Rorgan he gestures subtly to indicate his men. The Herald must be speaking of the Knights.

Yet now he looks to Durandir, and his eyes hold neither pity, nor sympathy, nor anger -- indeed, they are cold and unreadable.

Bullvye nods then wiats for Bronmellon to speak his piece before saying \" My Lord, I have never seen Woses hunt by dog, nor did I bring any.\" he raises an eyebrow and looks at Gwynham for a moment then disreguards him before turning his attention back to Rorgan \" Then how can he explain the Laughter echoing in the Durandan woods?\" in which several others agree

[Thorondur(#23126)] And from that unspoken consideration of Durandir\'s stepping forth does the Herald\'s gaze go to Gwynham, who now detaches himself from his kinfolk, and comes forth to give a second report. And Thorondur\'s expression goes tight, and he says aloud, \"Conflicting stories. This is a night of ill tidings, if ever I have seen one.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] The dishonored Knight begins to turn away. \"Come Durandir. Let Thorondur and your fat... Lord Rorgan do his duty.\" A gentle hand rests on Durandir\'s shoulder. Durandir looks upon Sir Dirhavel. \"I have failed.\" At that, the young man, no longer squire, no longer Knight, plods down the floor toward the gate. \"You were right Sir Dirhavel. It was foolish to try -- now I am useless.\"

Bronmellon nods to the Steward of Nimothan, and when he speaks his voice is firm, without trace of self-consciousness. For surely he must know that he speaks of fairy tales? And yet, his expression is naught if not serious.

\"There are those who say that they wish but to be left alone. If you command me to hunt them, Lord, I will, but I will say: be wary! Stories do not endure for nothing!\"

[Boromir(#10108)] The doors to the keep open and in comes the son of Denethor. He is alone, dark eyes scanning as he marches forward.

[Cranth(#13375)] A young man dressed in the attire of a woodman steps forward. He has been standing in the background, anxiously looking for an opportunity to approach Lord Rorgan, but it has not yet presented itself. Hearing the discussion of Woses, he steps forward. \"Nay, they are not a myth, for I have met these creatures of which you speak, and I declare that their intent is to harm no-one. They only seek to live arart from us and to be left alone by us. I Cranth, son of Durin of Ithilien give my solem pledge that I believe them to have peaceful intent. In addition, I have given my word that I will seek to allow them to live their lives unbothered. I pray, therefore, that you do not intrude upon their woods with hounds, for no good will come of it. Our best rangers will not find them unless they wish to be found.\"

[Xena(#29915)] Perhaps her thoughts dwell overlong upon escape, for the eyes of Neorxenawang are the first to fall upon the dark-haired man who enters, and there do they linger.

Bronmellon inclines his head to Cranth, who speaks for the woses.

Not so cold is Rorgan\'s reaction toward Durandir, yet the small motion to the young man might be missed by many, as Rorgan continues to converse in quiet tones with the Knight Herald of Dol Amroth, indicating the great crowd gathered in the hall, \"But would an angry mob do us any good in such a search? And what of the other property, in the camps? Surely we should not abandon such great succor as that willfully.\"

Then does Rorgan look toward the Rider who has spoken, and again raises his voice, \'\'Some would say that it was just the Woods playing a trick on the mind of a tired Rider at his post, no doubt,\'\' says the Captain, \'\'yet could it be that both are right at once? Nay, I shall not take with me any who quaile at such things. There is more here to guard than just the tower, am I right? None shall be dishonored by remaining behind this night in defense of their own possessions.\'\'

Standing as he is upon the seat of a chair and addressing the large crowd gathered in the Great Hall, Rorgan can not help but notice the entrance of the Lord Steward\'s eldest, and to Boromir, he does nod, calling out, \'\'Son of Denethor! Lord Captain-General Boromir! Indeed there is ill news afoot, and we have need of your aid and council. Come forth, we beseech thee!\'\'

And then to Cranth, he says, \'\'Then who has stolen the woman of Rohan and the goodwife\'s own daughter, as well, Man-at-Arms Cranth? What say you to the witness who saw them take the Anorien girl into the forest?\'\'

[Boromir(#10108)] Glancing at Rorgan, Boromir is silent for a long moment. He chooses his timing well ere he speaks. He crosses his arms over his chest and then speaks at last, \"What aileth the house of the White Ram?\"

[Anorien ZMO(#23077)->] Thoras, an IC Human Gondorian, has disconnected in Gondor: Anorien.

[Cranth(#13375)] The young man looks earnestly up at his captain and Lord and replies, \"I know nothing of such stories for I have only recently arrived. I only know that there creatures could easily have killed me had their intent been evil. Instead, they spoke with me, declining a small gift that I offered them, and stating that they simply wished to be left alone. If they have taken this girl, then I would ask your leave so that I might go into the forest and speak with them. They have spoken with me once before, perhaps they will trust me again>\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"As the Lord Rorgan has said,\" Thorondur quietly declaims, commanding not in fact, yet speaking as a man accustomed to rank might, \"we will need men of stout heart to go with us. And yet it is no sin to stay behind yea, even my own knights will remain in the keep\'s defence. Now who, I wonder, will go forth with us?\"

Bullvye looks up at Rorgan, kind of angry that he is thought to be tired. but Hearing of a witness he calls out \" Who be thie witness and are they Trustworthy, for Woses are not known to do this!\" he turns and nods to Cranth then watches the Lords before him

[Nilgaer(#24951)] Slumped in a cushioned seat some short ways away from the group gathered about Rorgan, and the conversation that has monopolized the hall at the moment, sits Nilgaer. One leg is tucked comfortably beneath him, the other dangling from his chair, and wiry arms are crossed over his midsection. With tilted head does the sailor listen, his eyes focused on the fire rather than the company,and hsi face stoic as usual.

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"This argument is a fools\' proposition,\" mutters Sir Calladan, rising to stand beside Thorondur, his leader and friend. \"Better that we act now, such of us as have the mettle to do it, and not bandy words about--\" Yet he is silenced by a gesture from a Herald, though the latter man nods grimly in agreement.

Bronmellon bows his head as attentions shift to the riders of Rohan, and respectful yet unhumbled he steps back amongst his company carrying still in his calloused hands his bow.

[Xena(#29915)] As Bullvye becomes increasingly overwrought, the demeanor of his kinswoman appears to grow ever more calm, and yet her eyes are fixed upon him with an intense light, and it seems she would make known to him her will, would that her thoughts might touch his hearing.

[Durandir(#30040)] \"Durandir, where do you go?\" Sir Durhavel steps between the disgraced Knight and the gate wardens. \"They will not have me. Why do you speak to still in such a manner? I am no longer your kindred. I am cast out, like a leaf from an unwilling branch. I will go myself, without sword and shield...\" Durandir takes a folded oilcloth. \"...and without mail. Give this to Lord Rorgan. I will go.\"

Durhavel is unmoving. \"I believe that your father has asked for you. Will you abandon him such, in his most needy hour?\" Durandir stops in his tracks and glances surprised back at the assembled. He silently falls into place beside Rorgan, avoiding the eyes of the Knights and all.

[Cranth(#13375)] The young woodsman draws closer to Rorgan and speaks softly to him....

[<#13375>] Cranth +whispers to you, \"My Lord, I come with an important message for you. I see that the time is not fortuitous, but I must speak briefly with you before the night ends.\"

Bullvye Steps forth \" I am a servant of both Countries while here, I give my servie. I will go.\" he turns and looks T Xena, and looks at her, nothing more then back to the Lords of Nimothan

[<#21696>] \" They will trample whatever path there may be in their haste to kill the unseen.\" Gwynham speaks, in his own tongue, to his kinswoman as he returns to her side. \" And I shall have nothing to do with this chase and less hope have I of it turning up anything that we do not already know.\" To the others does his gaze turn. Cold with disapproval.

Nodding toward Boromir, Rorgan explains in less formal tones than might be desired of addressing his direct superrior, yet the meaning comes across unfettered. \"My Lord,\" he says, \"there has been a dissappearance and a kidnapping. The Goodwife Myalinde has seen her own daughter taken into the woods by six disshapen mannish figures, and Lady Neorxenawang\'s cousin from Rohan has been missing for over a day now, and all save the Druadan Wood has been searched to no avail. We shall enter the forest at dawn...\" and then he turns and nods to the young woodsman, saying, \"Speak, then, and make it quick.\" before he concludes his address to Boromir, \"...and your boon would be an honor to us all.\"

[<#21290>] \" Gywnham are are blind at times and your ignorance makes you troublesome at times. You should open you eyes to the world\" He says this back to his kinsman whom he is having torubles with. \" I have seen and done things that some haven\'t. mind you these men of Gondor have seen them also, I say trust them.\"

\" Words of dissent should be spoken for all to hear, Rider, for this is an open council,\" chides Rorgan, quickly lapsing into the language of his youth.

[Boromir(#10108)] \"Man-shape figures,\" ponders Boromir aloud. \"Are they orcs perhaps? And where is the goodwife?\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"The dawn is soon upon us,\" comes the voice of the Lord Thorondur, chiming in at the end of Rorgan\'s swift summary, \"and time grows short. Let us have action, I beg -- there is no more to be gained in debate,\" he says, giving his own counsel to Rorgan -- and clearly aware of the Riders\' own apparent wish to begin.

Nilgaer\'s eyes drift from the fire to the Rohirric, speaking in their Northern tounge. Eyes refelcting curiosity assess the two for a moment, flicking back and forth between Xena and Gwynham. Scratching at his chin, the sailor\'s gaze snaps to Rorgan as that unintelligible speech flows form his mouth in a chiding tounge.

[Xena(#29915)] Marking the wordless dismissal of Bullvye, a distinct chill sets about the Northwoman, and though she moves not, it is as if she has withdrawn herself from him, leaving the man to the fate he so earnestly pursues. And more grim still is Neorxenawang as she bends her head to the words of Gwynham, her eyes surveying coolly the assembled, who chatter still, a cacophony of opinion amidst a dearth of decision.

\"The Goodwife rests within the Audience Chamber, my lord,\" replies Rorgan to the Steward\'s son, \"She says they were not Orc or Troll, but still were disfigured.\" He then nods to the words of Thorondur, \"Indeed. Dawn draws nigh. Those who will come and search even the forest should do so. Orc or Troll or Wose, it matters not to me but for the lives at stake, and the pledge I have made to protect those who live in or visit this land,\" Rorgan says with conviction.

[Durandir(#30040)] Courage. Courage is what all of the men in this room have. Courage to face beasts. Courage to face monsters. Courage to die for the banner of Gondor, and to be honored in the annals of their houses. But courage -- courage in some cases is harder. Certain tasks greater than fighting or slaying. Tasks such as speaking to your father after faulty deeds. Tasks such as now.

A few brave words are spoken from the would be son to father. \"Let me come with ye.\" After this, Durandir is silent, daring only to speak so few, and daring only to look at the walls.

[Thorondur(#23126)] With a curt nod, Thorondur lends both acceptance and support to Rorgan. \"Then let us go,\" he says, more brusquely than is his fashion. \"This wait begins to chafe me, and these children need saving. If it were my own wards, the young Lords Isilrim,\" and here his face tightens angrily, \"I should be hours away by now.\"

[<#21696>] \" You speak of actions and promise results! But all this day have riders been purusing the land in search for our lost kinswoman. Already have I spoken my piece and it has fallen upon ears that are already decided.\" Gwynham responds, his gaze upon Rorgan alone. Then, in the common tongue, he speaks once more \'If you, on your hunt, return with the pelt of a rabbit I shall be impressed. But the Wose are legends and are not real! They are not the cause of the missing. No. If it is anything at all it will be bandits of the sort that I have not seen before. I shall not join in this feable search, nor will what riders of the Mark who listen to the sense that their fathers have passed to them from ancestors of old!\'.

Frustrated, torn, perturbed with talk, Gwynham turns once more to silence -- the silence adopted by Xena beside him. About him, the debate continues -- but upon now deaf ears does it fall.

[Boromir(#10108)] The son of Denethor ponders these words then at last a fiery glint catches his eye as the proud spirit of his forbearers arises within him, \"Nonetheless, a woman who has not been upon the marches may not know indeed what our enemy looks like. Therefore, I deem that this is a matter that cannot be brooked. All must go to horse. The valour of Gondor must now ride forth.\"

Then Boromir the Bold grasps his mighty horn and setting his lips upon it lets loose a deafening blasts that rings through the halls of the Nimothan...

HOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOM HOOOOOOOM!!!

\"Men of Gondor! Forth now. Let not the swift wait for the slow,\" cries Boromir as he pulls the horn from his lips. \"We must quest to find the child. Forth! Forth! Gondor! Gondor!\"

Bullvye dismisses the call of his kinsman for he knows he is true , He looks at Bormori and nods leading a few Riderswith him to look

Boromir nods to men upon his left and right. The deed now done, the time for talk has ended. He marches forth from the hall, and will lead those that shall follow him.

[Thorondur(#23126)] There is nothing more the Lord Thorondur need say. The mighty Horn of Boromir has been winded, and the hearts of the Westermen, the Sons of the Exiles, cannot but soar with the sound! Now the hour is come at last, and the men of the hall begin gathering in groups among such as will lead them. Yet it must fall to the Lord NImothan to choose the final roll: who will lead which band, and whom will he command?

To Durandir, Rorgan speaks softly, \"Aye, with me ye shall come...\" but he does not finish the thought out loud, for none else would take this young man who would be his son, and it is something more than duty that leads the former tailor, whose grave marker still stands beside the road into Dunlostir, to lend his heart to the young man.

And so does the Steward of Barad Nimothan follow along with the many others who hearken now to the horn of Boromir, and with its ringing, he joins the press of men filtering through those who will be left behind and those who will stay willingly, and on toward the gate goes he pausing only to grab his longbow from where it has rested against the table where he spoke.

Bronmellon thumps his weapon upon the floor as the burst of the horn splits the air. \"The hunting of legend I will leave to those with less pressing matters to fill their time, but to quest for lost children I will readily accede,\" he avows, and follows outdoors.

Below Barad Nimothan(#8975Rnto)

Towering high above is the peak of Mount Nardol, one of the line of peaks along the Northern line of the Ered Nimrals used as a signal-peak. Built astride the only apparent path up to the top of Mount Nardol is Barad Nimothan, cradled in the arms of the beacon-hill and crafted of the same stone, and nearly invisible from the Great West Road where it lays off to the North.

Two sets of stables flank the sides of the path leading to Barad Nimothan\'s gates: one for the horses of the house and its guests, and one for the horses kept here to be used solely by the errand-riders of the Steward. It is a strong fortress and well placed a handfull of men could long hold it against almost any attacking force.

The sun shines brightly overhead, shedding warmth and life upon the land of Anorien.

Contents:

Obvious exits:

Path to the Druadan leads to The Fringes of the Druadan Woods.

Gate leads to Barad Nimothan - Great Hall.

North leads to Anorien: Great West Road.

Boromir sits already upon his horse looking stern. As men pour out from the gate he cries, \"Three groups shall we form for the hunt. I shall lead the first, then Rorgan, and Thorondur.\" He then glances over at Rorgan, \"Are there scouts present who would know the forest well?\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] The Lord Girithlin accepts the command of Denethor\'s son, and without thought or word does his liegeman, Sir Calladan, step beside to join him. Yet even as the knights look askance at the Lord Boromir upon his horse -- for surely, the beast will make much noise -- they await with patience the news of whom shall be given to go with them.

\"The man, Cranth, who spoke in favor of the Woses is one, but there are a few others. Here, then, among my householdmen, take one with each of you,\" says Rorgan nodding to two of the men, \"Each of them has been on the Marches, and though they are retired and watch mainly the gates of the tower, their eyes are sharp, and if anyone shall know what passes here, so they shall.\" And with a loud whistle, Rorgan summons his horse, the chestnut steed Ardanne, marked my his gait and cut as one of the horses of the line bred in Dunlostir, and he springs into the saddle with an ease that is truly unseen among the Gondorians, even the knights.

Bullvye stays afoot watching waiting to be told what to do. He watches Rorgan and cannot help but to smirk at the one who knows their language and claims to be of Rohir

[Durandir(#30040)] \"He has no sword or shaft.\" The words come undirected and the mob makes it impossible to single out the speaker. \"I go with my hands and feet. That will be enough.\" Comes the reply from an equally hidden voice. But there could be only one man who replied. As all assemble, only one man is easily unarmed. Durandir.

Boromir nods and then says, \"Then a third part of the men we have hither shall go to each group. Rorgan, since you know this land best, your company shall go first. Thorondur and myself shall follow. Yet I do not know why you speak of the Woses unless you suspect them of this deed. Rather it is more likely orcs to my mind. But now enough time has been spent for words, for we must now use the speed of our horses to devour the time that has been lost.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"If we must ride, then?\" Calladan looks with a question to Thorondur, who seems disturbed by the thought. He is silent a moment, the Knight-Herald, yet at length he answers.

\"Nay, we will not ride,\" he tells Calladan at last. \"Our mounts are mighty warhorses, indeed -- bred for the charge, not the tangled ways of an ancient wood. We go afoot.\" Now looking to those assembled, he asks aloud, and loudly: \"Whosoever does not ride -- come forth with me. For not all among us can go ahorse, yes?\"

Nodding toward the Steward, Rorgan orders, \"Count off! One\'s with me! Two\'s with Lord Boromir, and three\'s with Lord Thorondur!\" Then he says, \"Let those with the three go afoot and into the forest here, and those of us mounted come round hard by the road and to the East. Trap them between us like sheep in a fold!\"

[Xena(#29915)] Unmounted too are the Eorlingas, as phantasms they appear, beside great steeds of grey, and they await quietly not the commands of the Gondorians, but merely the revelation of their intent. For they take no counsel but their own, and displeasure is etched deep upon their visages.

[Boromir(#10108)] \"Still,\" says Boromir to Calladan, \"We need haste to make it to the forest even if there we must abandon our mounts. Therefore, let what men who have horse here strip them clean of gear and let the mounts carry double.\" He then looks at Rorgan, \"Captain, divide the Men.\"

[Bullvye(#21290)] The Sperewigend steps forth armoured only incase it be orc , He nods to Calladan \" We\'ll go with you.\" he points back to the few riders with him \"Horses would scare the woses off and if they are fault they will confess I am sure, most likely they knwo fo the where aboutts and what happened\"

[Argamir(#27619)] To Calladans question a voice answers, the voice of Sergeant Argamir of the Minas Tirith Guard. \"M\'Lord, I would be an honor to accompany you, with the Company of the Raven behind me,\" he quickly adds, \"With the Lord Captain Rorgan\'s permission of course.\"

When the counting does not start soon enough for him, Rorgan begins pointing at groups of people an shouting numbers, \"One!\" he yells with long fingers extended toward where Nilgaer stands, \"Two\" indicates those near Gwynham and Xena, \"Three!\" he points to the men of the Raven gathered around their sergeant, Argamir, \"One!\" he yells again, pointing toward his adopted son with a grin, and then \"Two!\" it\'s Bullvye who shall ride with the Steward\'s son from among the Rohirrim, and \"Three!\" he points now to Bronmellon and those around him, and waits to look at the divisions of men to see that they are equal.

Thorondur nods curtly, awaiting the counting-off of the Men. On the Rohirrim and their horses, their harness and mail, he looks with the faintest of scowls. \"Allies,\" he says to Calladan, \"should not have this gulf between them.\" And then Bullvye speaks, and Argamir, and Rorgan -- and the Lord Herald smiles to himself.

\"Then let the Ravens of Minas Tirith, and such others who will come, join with the Swan of Dol Amroth!\" He surveys those who have already joined his band, and those coming now to his banner. \"Let us do this together,\" he avers, \"and we will not fail.\"

[Boromir(#10108)] \"Come,\" says Boromir tightening his fingers around the harness. \"Let those who will go, depart!\" He then glances over at Rorgan, \"Let us go.\"

[Argamir(#27619)] Argamir nods his head and salutes quickly to both Thorondur and Rorgan, before spinning around and readying the troops that he has gathered.

[Nilgaer(#24951)] Eyes tinted with mild surprise, the sailor looks up from where he stands near the gate. \"If I\'m to come.\" Nils says, straightening. \"I\'m afraid I\'ll need to go on foot.\" He draws closer to the procession, so that they might hear him.

Bullvye nods and hops onto a light mount nearbye sending it towards Boromir. He looks at the stewrads son then intorduces himself. \" I am Bullvye.\" simply he sates while pulling the face mask over and latching it shut. He nods and follows after Boromir

A nod from the Captain answers the Steward\'s son and he spins Ardanne round, headed toward the Great West Road.

[Thorondur(#23126)] And so together do the Ravens of Minas Tirith join with a pair of Prince Imrahil\'s knights, and a number of bowmen from the City of Guard as well. As his men turn to depart, Thorondur catches the eye of NIlgaer -- a sailor, and out of place, perhaps -- yet the Lord Herald eyes him shrewdly, and nods. A quick gesture, and he leads his men down the Path into the Druadan Wood.

Boromir nods to Bullvye and then rides nigh him, \"Well met! Together we shall ride.\"

In the Druadan

The woods grow extremely deep here, and extremely dark. Things rustle in the bushes, and there is an almost unclean smell to the area. No light makes it through the overhanging canopy, and the rich dark soil is less proliferated with bushes than in most other places you have visited. You look forward to leaving this accursed grove.

Obvious exits:

South leads to In the Druadan.

East leads to In the Druadan.

West leads to In the Druadan.

North leads to In the Druadan.

And so did they stride into the Haunted Forest, not the least among them daunted by the prospect of facing the legends and tales spun about the place, but the going at first is easy and with no evident threat the confidence of the men soon grows somewhat, and especially so at seeing their leader, Rorgan marching forth with no fear written on his visage. Surely the Steward\'s son is correct in his assessment of Orcs being at the root of the troubles, and even as dawn breaks, Rorgan has his eye to the ground with the gate warden of Nimothan they have brought along as a scout.

[Durandir(#30040)] Confidence indeed. Is a lack of speech lack of confidence? If so, surely the man to the side of Rorgan is not confident. But if silence touts strength -- then Durandir, of Amroth, is standing strong among strange folk and a father most likely filled with distaste for him. But why, then, did Rorgan let such a man, unarmed at that, to go forth without?

\"Why, Lord Rorgan.\" The words are light and soft.

Then does Rorgan look up from the tracks, and into the face of Durandir, answering quietly as the asking, \"Why dost thou not call me father?\" He shakes his head, lest Durandir think to reply, \"Nay, you think me ashamed of you. You think that I will rescend that which I have offered you. That is not my way, Durandir, son, for even the mightiest among us have been laid low by what you faced. Nay, it is not my way to abandon that which is but barely begun.\"

The scout has moved ahead some now, and Rorgan\'s eyes follow the other man briefly before speaking again to Durandir, \"There is but one dissappointment to me, right now, Durandir, and that is the dissappointment that my own brother has in the way I have chosen to mete out punishment for young Faengor. This, too, shall pass in time, for good or ill, I can not now say.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] \"Lord Thorondur thinks me an oath-breaker and a fiend. I know it.\" Durandir turns to suspiciously gaze into the forest, all the while talking, and avoiding the watchful eye of his father. \"I no longer have my sword. That does not matter Moreover, I no longer have my honor. Thorondur spoke the ancient words to me, Lord Rorgan. They must be answered. I must go to Dol Amroth, and seek Imrahil the Fair.\"

Durandir points to a broken blade of grass near the floor. \"I am no scout -- but are these not the markings of passing feet?\" His voice is concentrated now.

\"Sharp eye, that,\" Rorgan says with a nod toward Durandir, \"yet it is from yon scout\'s passing, if I am not mistaken.\" Then he nods toward the shadows of the forest, \"There. Something moving. Perhaps a stag.\" but it is gone already when another set of eyes look for it.

\"Lord Thorondur Girithlin has said as much to you?\" asks Rorgan, \"Or do you infer these things from him asking you to go before the Prince?\" He shakes his head, \"Far too little do I know of the ways of your order, Durandir, but still, I think that Lord Thorondur and I are of a like mind about you. There is a sickness inside you, Durandir, and we would do all that we can to help you get it out.\"

Moving ever deeper into the forest, they still hunt sign or track, and find none, save those that they have made themselves. Yet still, at the edge of vision, sometimes a movement is caught, and sometimes a muted shout will accompany it, but always, upon searching, there is nothing there.

[Durandir(#30040)] \"Sickness. I do not feel sick, I do not fe--\" Durandir\'s reply is cut off by a sudden motion in the trees. The thing leaps out of the woods, directly cutting the procession in half. Shouts. But -- the stir is immediately quashed. \"It\'s only a fawn.\", reassures one in the rear. Gentle laughter -- soon muted.

\"I do not feel sick. I know what I have done. I must answer for my actions. Yea, the Knight-Herald spoke the ancient words to me. Only once hast I laid breath and ear on them -- when upon the codex of the Swan I laboured. And then I avoided those words knowing I would never need to hear or speak them. How little did I know.\" The trek goes on -- men a little more cautious from the strange encounter.

Still does the forest loom overhead, never seeming to lighten as the new day dawns and the sun is rising over Anorien. Yet in the chill air, men are beginning to complain of cold and hunger and many are starting to jump at the shadows in their ever changing form.

\"That tree! It had a face and /WINKED/ at me!\" cries one man, distracting Rorgan from his conversation with Durandir for a long moment as the frightened man is calmed and reassured about the non-existence of ghosts.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] \"Lord Thorondur has done to me in one day what both the South and East could not accomplish with all their terrors and temptations. He has broken my spirit. Or, more proper, I have broken my own spirit. By my oat... By my word, I shall mend it.\" Durandir speaks almost to himself, unshaken by the assumption of \'winking trees\' or else.

\"It is growing late... or should I say early? They must be here... why would such persons venture without guide or guard into the Druadan?\"

\"The woman said her daughter was taken from their house,\" says Rorgan, for his part now walking with bow at the ready and arrow knocked. \"We have searched long and far for them, and they should not be missed if they are here, though I am of a mind to walk the way to the feet of the mountains themselves, if need be.\" The grumbling among the men, however, grows louder, and this time, when one of the men points and shouts, the shaft at Rorgan\'s fingertips follows the line of the pointing fingers.

\"Nay, m\'lord, you missed it,\" says the man who had pointed. \"Though like as not we could do the same?\"

\"Nay. That was merely out of frustration,\" replies Rorgan to the other man now, with a smile beginning to curl his lips, \"Yet I warrant we had best be heading back to see of the others have found anything in their searching. We have ranged far afield and have seen all the hauntings this forest has to offer us.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] A comment from the middle. \"Let us be fleet and return. It is plain that what we search is not here.\" Many begin to agree. The Rohir, unaccustomed to going into danger without their steeds, are the first to accept. But all look to the front of the line -- to their valiant leader, and the timid looking figure at his side, for instruction.

\"Lord ROrgan, you have not said much to me. What do you think, of what I have said?\" Durandir whispers, not willing to excite. He cocks his head away, as if grasped by some noise or movement.

\"I have said little, for there is little that I could say to you. If it will help, I should go with you to see the Prince and speak on your behalf, as a good father should. Still, though, I sense in you the stain of sickness, and until you find one who can help you, such as Lord Thorondur or even old Mithrandir, it does me but little good to make such speeches as I would make to you now. I shall not waste my breath on such nonsense as what other fathers will bluster about for days and weeks upon end. Indeed, I had tried to treat Faengor as my own son as well, and look at what that has gotten me. The scorn of my brother and our Lord Erinhaim, and a soldier who is unsure of whether or not he should be a shadow or not. Nay, you shall get what advise you ask for and no more, as long as I may help it.\"

But then, the scout begins to shout from up ahead. \"Lord Rorgan! Captain!\" he shouts back, \"You\'ll not believe this!\"

And when the Captain draws nigh, indeed does a look of puzzlement cross his face, for there lay the exact number of corpses as the goodwife reported seeing, and swarthy Southron men are they, or they were, in life, perhaps, swarthy like the Southrons. Shaking his head Rorgan says, \"Six and bent and deformed-looking, from the lumps in their clothes. We shall take them back, men. Come.\"

Below Barad Nimothan(#8975Rnto)

The sun shines brightly overhead, shedding warmth and life upon the land of Anorien.

Contents:

Obvious exits:

Path to the Druadan leads to The Fringes of the Druadan Woods.

Gate leads to Barad Nimothan - Great Hall.

North leads to Anorien: Great West Road.

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"Nay, lass,\" says Calladan, softly, moving forward with the fisherman\'s cloak to wrap it gently about the frail thing\'s shoulders. Thorondur, meanwhile, kneels beside her, and drops a hand to his waist for a flask -- but finds it empty.

Looking to Nilgaer with a knowing grin, the Herald beckons the man forward. \"Come forth, fisherman. Thou\'rt a giving man, I deem -- yet let us judge the depths of thy soul. Wilt thou give this child a mouthful of brandy to warm her bones?\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] A frail girl huddles on the ground of the yard, pale and looking as if only now coming out of shock. She is draped in a cloak several sizes too big for her now, and the Lord Girithlin\'s party gathers about her, curious and relieved all at once. Save for the two knights, all keep a respectful distance, but the Herald is even now beckoning a fisherman to come forward with aid.

Coming down the road with a clatter of hooves is the mixed group he had led into the forest, yet six of the horses returning are riderless, or rather more forebodingly, ridden by dead dangly men. Rorgan pulls his horse to a halt near the Knight Herald of Dol Amroth, \"Hail Lord Thorondur,\" says the Captain, \"What\'s this that you\'ve found?\" A smile begins to fill the tall man\'s face.

[Durandir(#30040)] \"I\'ve spent some time in their lands... not my best experience... they are definitely southr...\" Durandir falls silent as he comes into reach of the Knights. His shoulders visibly slump, and his pace slows. He lets Rorgan go ahead of him, following in the shadow of the Captain. Durandir\'s eyes brighten at the sight of their quarry found, about to say a chilvarious word, but he stays silent.

[Nilgaer(#24951)] A faint smirk flashes across Nilgaer\'s face, gone perhaps before it is even noticed. \"Gladly sir.\" He responds and moves around Calladan to kneel beside the young girl. Untying several cords of his cote he reaches into it\'s depths to remove a small bronze flask, about half full. This he passes off to Thorondur. \"The Lord Steward \'proaches.\" He informs, shifting on his knee to watch the dishonoured knight and Rorgan near.

[Thorondur(#23126)] Raising his fair face to Lord Rorgan\'s in the twilight, Thorondur\'s blue eyes shine with relief. \"By the grace of the Valar, we found naught, yet this child was awaiting us in the yard! She seems rough-handled, and yet was sleeping when we found her, sleeping like a babe. Hush now, everyone,\" he says, smiling beatifically, voice quiet and filled with awe, \"and let the poor lass tell her tale.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] Thus fallen silent, Thorondur passes Nilgaer\'s flask to the girl, with a wordless exhortation to drink.

\"Aye, and we found but little more, Lord Thorondur,\" says Rorgan, \"but indeed that can wait until we have heard from the lass.\"

[Efen(#12047)] Warmed by the cloak she does not even begin to know how to say her thanks for, and by the other gentle ministrations promised, the child is filled with apprehensive awe, and then by a sudden wave of fear as the approaching horses lain with corpses arrive with the other party. She seems unable to speak, staring at the burden, her lips moving, but without sound.

[Durandir(#30040)] As all eyes are laid upon the child, Durandir begins to slowly sleek towards the child. Something is in his hand -- something soft, something small. Before anyone can hold him back, the former Knight steps into the small circle around the girl, placing something into her hand. \"Yours, I assume.\" Just as deftly, Durandir steps outside the ring, out of the spotlight, content to observe.

[Nilgaer(#24951)] Nils\' eyes are fixed on the corpses as well. His face, wooden as ever expresses nothing, but his grey eyes are accompanied bya slight tremble to his hands in expressing some fear and vulnerability. Witha shwo of force he manages to avert his eyes from the \'dangly\' bodies and back to the child, closing his lids slowly and listening.

[Thorondur(#23126)] His lips tighten at the sight of six corpses, yet Thorondur says nothing. Only when the girl is frightened to silence does the Herald finally speak his mind. \"Durandir,\" he says, gaze falling upon the suspended knight. \"See that those... poor men... are provided for as befits the nobility of their lives, and not their deaths.\"

Then setting a comforting hand upon the child\'s shoulder, he speaks in the musical voice of a man who has been among the Elves, and knows inner peace. \"Fear not, child. You are safe now, and among friends.\"

Snorting at the words of the Herald, Rorgan scoffs, \"Nay, burn them atop Nardol as a signal that all is well once again within the lands of the Nimothan.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] A simple nod. \"I was South only a short time -- but enough to witness certain ceremonies. They shall be honored as their rites dictate.\" Durandir steps back, listening to his father, and unsure what word to obey. He turns to the child, at peace with the rescue of such perfection.

[Nilgaer(#24951)] \"The other child.. from the north.\" Nils whispers roughly. \"She is not yet found?\"

[Efen(#12047)] Given the small burden by Durandir, the girl finds a voice once more. \"Th\' bad men, they took me!\" she cries pitifully, her eyes boiling over with tears that leave a visible track upon her dirty cheeks. \"They took me i\'to th\' wood, an\' twas so dark! I could but barely s-see, an\' they d-dragged me with them... An\' then there was s-shouting, and sommat h-hit me!\" she rubs her bruised temple. \"An\' I w-woke up on the g-g-ground alone!\"

\"Southrons,\" Rorgan spits, \"Do not deserve even that much honor, Lord Girithlin. Yet if your order demands that of you, then I shall defer unto you.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] A murmur goes up at this from the assembled searchers. And finally, they no longer go unnoticed... men have been slowly emrging from the keep, amazed to find the girl alive, and left before their doors -- without their own lookouts seeing her come there!

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"Southrons?\" Thorondur looks askance at Rorgan, eyes narrowed in confusion. \"Then those are not ours?\"

His blue-eyed gaze returns to the corpses, their identities difficult to discern in the encroaching dark -- but finally, the Lord Girithlin gives a curt nod. \"If they are indeed men of Umbar, or others of that ilk, then aye... burn them,\" he agrees. Yet he still holds a hand on the girl\'s shoulder, in support. Calladan looks on in surprise, for Thorondur has never been known to associate with children, since the disappearance of his brother....

[Thorondur(#23126)] Catching Calladan\'s eye, Thorondur cannot suppress a knowing grin. It is as if he reads the thought of his aide. \"Sirion\'s lads,\" he reminds the younger knight, and with a look of realization, Calladan nods.

[Durandir(#30040)] Desperate, Durandir interjects. \"A solution to satisfy both ends? The men will be bur... I do not remembered what they called it. No doubt foreign to us, but they have their ways as do we. I do not believe their holy books specify what fire to use... Nardol? They shall still be honored.\"

Durandir turns to the child, putting one hand to cheek to wipe off tears. \"What is your name?\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] A beam of sunlight pierces the shadow shrouded forest to the north. Figures slowly move toward the open space before the Tower Nimothan. Like pieces of the trees, or mythic creatures said to walk the ancient woods in times of yore, imaginations lends their form a magic substance. It is a spell that easily disovled when cast in light, when they are found to be just men. At their head is the large figure of Lord Nimothan and he looks with worried eyes upon the scene before his house. The men that follow are some groundsmen and they have just returned from fruitless searchings.

\"Southrons,\" confirms Rorgan. \"Slavers, no doubt, but unfamiliar with the legends of the Druadan, it would seem. Equally as it seems that they have been poisoned and not overcome by brute battle.\"

[Thorondur(#23126)] \"Then the girl was saved,\" concludes Thorondur, puzzling over his own words...

\"By the Wild Men?\"

[Efen(#12047)] The weeping child rubs her face on the cloak given her. \"Nerime... I want t\' go home! I want my mooother!\"

[Nilgaer(#24951)] Shifting on his aching feet, Nils notices off-hand the approaching soldiers. \"Any sign of the northern girl?\" he asks of them as they draw within earshot of his soft voice.

With a shrug, Rorgan replies, \"Even the beasts of the forest will not harm one who is no threat to them, so long as they are not in hunger.\" His eyes go sharply now toward his brother and he looks as if he shall fall silent at the tall man\'s approach, looking toward the girl, \"Your mother is safe and sound inside the tower, dear.\" then he adds, \"Why don\'t we take her on inside.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"They have been seen within the forests on my lands...\" Answers a deep voice that enters on the scene, \"For the lands of Nimothan comprise the Druadan wood.\" Erinhaim looks at Thorondur for a moment before bending his dark eyes on Rorgan. Finally, his looks fall towards the bodies and the crying girl.\"

[Durandir(#30040)] \"Wild Men? What is a wild man?\" The first words Durandir has dared to speak directly to Thorondur in the past few hours. Realizing he spoke, the castaway lowers his head, and puts attention to the child. \"Do you want me to take you to your mother?\" He seems to have developed a special interest in the child, for some odd reason.