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Gavin Shatter Stone

Speak your piece.. or move.

0 · 303 views · located in Middle Earth

a character in “The Lord of the Rings: The Song Unsung”, as played by Oborosen

Description

Birth Name: Gavin Shatter Stone

Nickname or Title: Stone Tongue, Word keeper.

Race: Dwarf

Height: 5"ft 1"in

Weight: 236"lb

Age: 199

Appearance: In the years of his life Gavin's golden locks have lost their shine and his face has wrinkled with age and mire. Though it would seem that his stature has not suffered in the least and he still possess that energy that is required to swing his sword to fight. However despite this his attitude does not change on his face, keeping to a curved sneer at most times which is only removed for certain occasions. His pale opaque skin and dull hazel eyes are all tellers of the fact that he had spent much of his time underground in caves as a youth and that he is almost naturally unable to hold a tan.

Description: Being older and having more time on the field of battle then most dwarfs see in their entire life's Gavin is at most times a hard and pessimistic person to deal with. He has seen the deaths of many of his brothers in battle and has been on the receiving end of many a loss in war, but he always finds the strength to fight back against the darkness and prevail no matter the cost. While his love for the other races can be somewhat lacking at times he will always lend a hand to a fellow warrior and those he considers like minded souls.
But in the midst of all of this his dwarf heritage and mentality can still be seen when he has the time to enjoy his days. Much like when he eats and drinks like a dwarf, never one to leave a drink full and a tavern song unsung. Like many dwarfs his age takes many years past the norm to affect his combat prowess and he is still capable of fighting toe to toe with many of the strongest foes he can find, albeit with a bit more skill now then when he was young and foolish. Gavin is Greedy and a treasure hunter at heart, most would take caution to watch loose valuables around him and make sure he doesn't make arrant wagers to anyone not willing to pay up.
However he does show an artistic side from time to time, many can find the areas where he has bedded down for the night and left in the morning with images carved in the nearby stone. Images of better days gone past in the heat of the years spent searching for endless wealth.

Weaponry: Iron reenforced stone great-sword (Wyrm Bane), Flanged Mace, Balanced Trowing Axes x4.

Armor or clothing: Blue/Green Chain mail Tunic, Iron Pauldrons, Bracers and grieves, Iron Breast plate with red waist sash.

Miscellaneous: Rucksack Days Rations'x3, Stone masons tools, Dwarven gateway rune (opens magically sealed dwarf doors)

Skills and Abilities: To his credit Gavin is a stout dwarf and able to hold his ground against an onslaught of enemies. Using the massive blade of his sword partially as a shield he is capable of fending and trading blows along his field of attack. This does require that he plant his feet squarely and make himself immobile however and makes him vulnerable to attacks coming from the rear. Being a dwarf Gavin is strong, stouter then stone and wields his weapon with the weight of a mountain in his shoulders. This allows him to swing his weapon with enough force to crush most things its blade fails to cleave and possesses the stamina needed to keep the fight going as long as he can.

Flaw(s): Gavin is greedy and that is barely touching the subject, for being a dwarf he has a natural affinity for shinning stones and precious metals of any kind. But when it comes to taking them from others his temptations are peeked and he enjoys doing this even more when elves are involved. Coming from his family line he has a thirst for elven riches and a strange over whelming desire to have them to himself. If the ring were to fall into his hands he would use the power it promises to amass unspeakable wealth that would be the envy of any dwarven king, past or present.

History: In the days of Gavin's coming of age he was a sharp tongued and fire filled dwarf. He could be found fighting in every tavern from one end of the land to the next and all at the expense of his twin brother Gwadon and though he gave his brother a hard time, he loved him dearly and cherished every moment they were together. Both were heir to the Shatter Stone line right behind their eldest brother Hravik and to him they were loyal and truthful. But in their blood was a curse, they were the descendents of a vast line of dwarfs with much a sour history for greed and an ire for those that stood to take it. In generations passed their family sought to possess a most beautiful object to be crafted by them that fell into the hands of the Elves long ago, this was the Nauglamír. A crown bearing on of the lost Silmaril stones and issued by the Elves to be built by the dwarfs.

Though the brothers knew not of the acts that transpired when the original crafters tried to steal the treasure they had worked so hard on. They knew only of the story that was told by the surviving thieves and how much hatred that it filled them with to know that such an item was lost to Elven greed.
The Brothers spent many years campaigning across the formerly great land of Beleriand looking for any sign that would leave then to the final resting place of the crown. For they knew that such an item would not go unaccounted for after so long, despite the the Elven maiden Elwing casting herself into the sea with it. It was this course that led them to the forgotten halls of Menegroth after all these years separated from what remained of the original city. Here is where tragedy found the brothers and their group as a nest of drakes had taken rest within its walls. Though they brothers and their forces fought valiantly they were forced to retreat and it was here that they decided to collapse the desolated tunnels. This required that Gavin had to sacrifice his brother Gwadon in the process as the others fled. Despite saving the others and escaping Gavin has never really felt the same. He is more quiet and solemn compared to other dwarfs and has spent the last 34 years moving along the northern lands of Middle Earth.

RP Sample:
The night time air cut through the trees outside the doors of the Pale Water Inn and many of the drunken dancing forms inside were bustling. Save for one that did not dance, He sat alone and away from the others quiet and contemplating the years hes spent away from home and his kin. Gavin rolled a coin in his hand as he always did when he was bothered by the years of self loathing, his other hand plotting a course on the map before him with a cold glare.
That was until a puff of smoke came down over the front of his vision, but he did not look up. There was a tell tale feeling in the air of who it was and he was right. "Gandalf..." His heavy voice pulled with a long draw. The wizard was always able to show when it seemed inconvenient, he knew the grey wizard from his years before hunting the crown with his brothers and sought council with his ilk before leaving for their ancestral homeland.

"Well.. hello to you as well Gavin, or should I just call you Stone Tongue eh?" The dwarf could feel the left edge of his lip curl as Gandalf said that, either threw the act of postulating his own personal feelings or not. "As bitter as the last time we met.. What no welcome or no welcome to take a seat?" Gavin still did not move his eyes from his map nor did he speak in any fashion. That was until some choice words were spoken.. "I heard about your brother, my sympathies for your family"
Gavin reacted harshly by kicking the leg of the table and jerking his eyes up towards the grey wizard. "What is your business here and why do you stand here before me?.. Speaking of the past." Gandalf leans in and sits on a vacant stool letting his staff rest in the cusp of his elbow. "I am in need of warriors, warriors that are driven and capable.. a dark evil is.." He is interrupted when Gavin raises his hand to halt the wizards words taking a stern look to Gandalfs own eyes. "I've heard of your problems.. and they are not mine. There is nothing you can say to me that would make me waste my time in that lost kingdom of men." He returns to his map and continues to read on until a folded slip of parchment is placed before him and he opens it slowly only to have his eyes catch the image before him. He looks to see Gandalf but the wizard is gone and his look back to the words written below, a date for him to arrive and worst of all it was to be there within the home of the Elves.

He gathers his things quickly and quietly, packing all that he can to sustain himself on the long journey ahead. Passing the fire pit on the way out he tosses the spent piece of parchment within to destroy the letter that Gandalf gave him and it slowly begins to burn, the image of the lost Nauglamír exposing itself before the flames claim it as well.


No we travel separately from them

So begins...

Gavin Shatter Stone's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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As the sun began to sweet down over the distant hills it cast a pale and translucent light over the land. Small birds could be seen nesting while the last of the gulls were drifting over the edge of the roiling falls below the sparkling city.
Small gust of wind were blowing chords through the trees and kicking dust from the earth off into the sunset. All things in this light were coming and going with ease, save for Gavin. His heavy boots trudged up the beaten path towards the destined meeting point and his eyes stung lightly with the beads of sand that rolled off his face. He had been traveling for almost six straight days with barely sleep or drink to make sure of his time and even then he was unaware of his lateness to such an important meeting.

His nose was picking up the smells of the minerals in the earth and his ears were tingling with the sounds of natures daily drifting but the sounds of the instruments from Rivendell were bothering him more then the damned sand. He hated the sound of Elven music, so pious and soft nothing in the ways of his people or those of other races. At least the humans had some revelry in their sound. This sounded like it was looking down its own nose at him, even if music didn't have one to speak of.

He could hear the sound of conversation beyond the edge of the rise and he was only now starting to think of who it was that he would meet. Gandalf said he was looking for "Warriors" so it was now that he was sure there would be more then one to this gathering.
He slid his weapons mass off his shoulders and under his arm along with his sack, tucking hem in to hold them tight. Either way it felt good to get the stone blades weight off his back every now and again.

As soon as his boots kick up the dust of the small clearing he looks at the surrounding few and finds his suspicions pulled in more ways then one. He can already see sights that do more then perk his brow in response. Two people from the realms of men a woman and a man, though the woman with her fiery hair did seem to be more "fun" in terms of possibilities. However the man was more then enough on the terms of looks and he even had some age to him, or as much as a human can get without getting unreliable. The next he noticed was a small hobbit girl and even though Gavin's eyes aren't bad he could swear that her head was on fire. That or a bright orange creature was living on it, though just looking at her his stomach began to growl. It had been some time since he had eaten well and his memories of spiced venison were being sparked, a very nice hobbit meal that he liked much so more then most.

But the two in the shade caught his attention more then the others, it was the woman that stoked the flame of his ire for a moment. He took a quick glance at her and then flicked his head to spit on the ground, as if the very look of her left a sour taste in his mouth. His attention was so distracted that he failed to realize the one she was speaking with was not just standing in the shade but was mostly a shade itself. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his body as his arm wanted to clinch up his weapon and swipe away at the creature. He was more trained then that though, he already understood that if the specter was dangerous the others would not be so easy as well.

He looked up at the great Eagle finally, one of the only beings that he could bear more then enough respect for as he gave the noble creature a slight bow of his head before addressing the group. "Gandalf said he needed warriors.. he didn't tell me he was.. this desperate." He chewed the words in the back of his mouth, unfortunately a habit that most dwarfs were suspect of.
His left hand lightly pulled on his beard as he ran his fingers through it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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"Why don't you?" the shadow retorted, "I merely show within my own company, hiding in no more than what I am. A shadow of life and the living. You hide behind the mask of an elf, but beneath that timeless face lies something else, doesn't it? A festering rot, a flame which burns black with sadness and rage. Any mortal may lay eyes on me and know of my crimes in a heartbeat. It is not I who hide, sweet little elf. It is you...."

Rala leaned against the tree, her hands gripping at that bark, all the air silently and quickly leaving her. Then she smirked. It wasn't something she was aware of, just a slight lift to her rosy lips. The Great Eagle retorted, a burst of anger releasing from its beak hearing this person's comments. Never had she heard Durhnoram so protective. Though he was one to help another and was kind, she had only ever heard that kind tone from him. A cackle exploded from behind her and immediately her stance stiffened, her hands gliding with the grace of water to her hand scythes. A shift in the shadows rippled and then the owner of the voice emerged. The elf hadn't expected what was about to step out. It was a Shade. Rala sank into the tree, though stayed where she was. She could feel bits of bark breaking into her hand and her nails scratching the surface of the tree.

"That explains that feeling earlier," she said to herself. Her brown eyes were directed at the shade, watching it's every move. As she watched the shade carefully no words came to her ears. The speech that the shade was presenting to everyone had passed her unnoticed and unheard. Just the armor with small shifts and night wisps coming out from his armor.

"Or perhaps 'Naerrandir, to you elves. Hmmm?"

Rala's eyes lifted to where the face should be a loud breath sucked through her nose, her jaw set and she lifted herself off the tree to stand tall. She was a few feet away, much closer than she would like to be with a shade, but she knew Gandalf and knew that he would not have asked this shade here if he would be danger to their mission and those in the group.

"You speak true Naerrandir," she said, her voice as strong as she could get it, though she could feel her heart increase its speed, "That's good. I do wear mask, but as you can probably tell everyone here does as well, I'm no exception." She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice, "Though this includes you as well, just because you're a shade doesn't mean you don't have your own secrets." With that she leaned back against the tree, but this time her body was soft and curved with trunk. Its bark reassuring on her back. Her instinct was to run in that moment, but logic told her she would be alright. Not only was it apparent that the Gray Wizard seemed to trust him, but the Great Eagle was nearby, as well as an entire army, if things turned sour. Not to mention she knew she could at least hold herself against him long enough to get away if need be. There was no reason to be scared or to run. Though fear has little to do with reason.

A loud woman suddenly appeared beside them and introduced herself. Rala noted that she was rather odd; at first demonstrating a fierce anger, but quickly changing to a more joyful color. One thing was for certain though, she wasn't a quiet type in the least. Rala caught that this woman's name was Bernadette Winterborn and that she was from Beorning. A good warrior and one that would be wanted in battle. Rala also noticed that she had taken one of the rings and placed it around her neck. That is either assured bravery or arrogance and wanting to look better in front of the other, Rala noted, though she held off on the judgement call to see what Bernadette's other actions would lend to this.

Her eyes drifted over the crowd once more, her view better now that she was further away. It was till then that she noticed the hobbit female with a fiery head of hair, holding the bag with the rings inside. She knew it wasn't bravery, just innocence to the point of curiosity. She smiled, it was gentle and the curve of her lips glided up on her face.

"Only a hobbit," she said. Her head leaned to the tree as well. She had never gone to the Shire before, though she had heard plenty of stories about it. Hobbits didn't normally travel outside their sweet community, though the story of Bilbo Baggins was well known, even to a traveler. No doubt this hobbit whom was now examining rings that made others shy away, too was looking for an adventure like that. It was curious to the elf as to why the hobbit wanted this adventure. Most hobbits would prefer the comfort of their own home, seeing their neighbors for tea or a drink, they would prefer their normal habits as opposed to an adventure that was ever changing. This girl must be special then, Rala thought, To see adventure outside her home with strangers and fear danger never leaving. I can see why Gandalf wanted her.

She brought herself back into the moment. The loud woman, Bernadette, was still standing looking at everyone else. Apparently she's waiting on introductions, Rala thought.

Once again she pushed herself from the tree and stepped nearer Bernadette, "I am Kavrala Shalandalan, from the Lothlórien forest. It's a pleasure to meet you," Rala held out her hand.

The setting changes from Middle Earth to The Clearing

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Amaranth turned to face the others with the satchel still open in her hands. She wondered why no one else had come to pick up the bag, and why everyone looked at her with horror and amazement. Had she done something wrong?
Taking a deep, calming breath with her eyes closed, Amaranth opened her eyes and turned back to face the woman who spoke. She gave a small smile at her words, though she didn't understand how she had made a fool of them. As the woman got up and made her way to the small Hobbit, she could help but to try to put on a brave face. The woman was nearly 3 feet taller than she was, which made her intimidating, even if there were no other features that would intimidate someone. When she held out her hand with a broad smile to Amaranth, she gave a slightly puzzled look.

"Here, lend me just one. Can't have you looking the most tempting target of the lot, or else you'd have all the fun."

"All the fun?" Amaranth lipped the words, not understand what the woman meant, however she disregarded the questions she had and handed the woman one of the rings. She did so slowly, as if at first she was afraid to touch the ring because of everyone else's words. None the less, she grabbed a ring and handed it to the tall woman before forcing a small, hoping she was doing the right thing.


"Is this our task then? To bear the darkness in that bag away from here and destroy it?"

Amaranth's green eyes quickly moved onto the tall lean Man who spoke before she glanced down at the rings for a second. 'What does he speak of?' She wondered as she scanned the man's features, noticing that like everyone else, he looked fit for a task of force and strength. However, her attention was taken by small whispers and a darkness over where the elven woman had stood. Slowly, she let her eyes move the the area where they saw the source of the darkness and whispers. There stood what looked to be a ghost in armour. Instinctively, she took a step back before moving her attention back to the rings in her hands. Everything in her mind told her to move further away, however no one else seemed to have a problem with the man....thing.....

As the red haired woman spoke, Amaranth's jaw nearly dropped and her eyes grew wide. "Orcs?" She nearly gasped before closing her eyes. 'Dear Gandalf, what have you thrown me into?' she silently wondered before trying to calm herself. Her mind would not be so simple or nice. 'How am I to battle orcs!? I am a simple hobbit bard!' She thought before hanging her head and staring at the ground.

Her attention was then taken by a new comer who had just showed up. The Shade was the next to gain her attention, as he spoke of how desperate Gandalf must have been, judging by the group gathered. Regardless of their quest, Amaranth already thought highly of most of them, simply by judging from their appearance. Just as she was about to speak, the red haired woman stomped over to the dwarf and spoke. Amaranth couldn't help but to smile at the tone the woman had, and she silently admired her even more for her words and bold nature. When Bernadette finished her introduction, Amaranth paused to see if anyone else would offer one up. She heard the elven woman whisper something that sounded like 'hobbit', however she wasn't for sure. Her eyes scanned each member before the elven spoke again, most clearly this time. Amaranth took note of the elven woman's name, Kavrala. She smiled and mentally said the name a few times, hoping she would remember the exotic name and the pronunciation After a few seconds, she decided she would speak. "I am Amaranth Brandybuck from Hobbiton." She paused for a second before giving a small sheepish smile. "I am unaware of our task Gandalf has gathered us for, however I promise to be of use to you." She finished, hoping she didn't sound too childish or ignorant.

The setting changes from The Clearing to Middle Earth

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Harathir stood quietly, observing the strange interactions between the others. The tall woman referred to the girl as 'Shireling', a thing he had never heard of before. Perhaps this 'Shireling' had powers of its own, to counter the darkness of the Rings so easily. He now knew that it was the Rings that had been whispering to him, given that the woman took one and fastened it to her necklace, though he was confused by her words. What could be so important that three Rings of Power moving together become a mere diversion?

He was distracted from this thought when the giant eagle spoke. He was so surprised by this that he completely missed what it said and just stood there staring blankly. That is until he heard another voice, hollow and bitter, and turned to see a creature of shadow, wearing full plate armor, emerge from behind a tree near the she-elf. The creature was called Valinor and was apparently a man, in life. The woman made a show of introductions, Bernadette Winterborn from a place and race Harathir had never heard of, causing the others to follow suit with their own. The Elf was called Kavrala and hailed from another forest, called Lothlorien, which he knew to be further North from the coasts of Gondor. Amaranth, the Shireling, was from Hobbiton, which he could only assume was somewhere further West.

He smiled at the determination in the small one's words, so full of hope and adventure. "Fear not, Amaranth Brandybuck from Hobbiton, Gandalf the Grey chooses carefully his agents it seems."

He looked around again at all those gathered in the clearing, all those gathered from the West, before shrugging his rucksack off onto the ground and making his own introduction.

"I am Harathir of Umbar, though the men of the west know me better as Whistler."

Then, curiosity getting the better of him, Harathir turned to the giant eagle and spoke, "Tell me, Lord of Eagles, what prize does Gandalf so value that he would sacrifice three Rings of Power and a handful of warriors to protect?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Gavin strode forward as the group was now acclimating to one another.

He announced with the sheer grimace that many dwarfs do.."Gavin..Shatterstone, so now that we are all getting familiar with one another what is this that Gandalf needs us for?" Pulling a flask from his sash he uncorks the top and swigs the contents. It is obvious from any close range from the smell, that the contents are not exactly water from its strong pungent odor.

Looking over the young hobbit he see's that she is somewhat ignorant of war in her face and features, much less being from one of the shires she is yearning for adventure if not action. Though there was a look in her eyes that gave her promise and a small wry smile graced the edge of his lips.
That was until he looked down into her hands to see what it was that she was holding, the small ornate bag dangled from one of her fingers as one of the Elven rings sat within her palm. Gavin could feel the center of his mind focusing on such a small treasure, its golden silver hoop mocked him almost. Daring him to snatch it from her hand, but there was something off about it. His eyes could pick up some kind of imperfection within the ring and that suddenly began to fan his distaste for its making. However he knew what it was, just from the look of its form laying there in her palm.

He points at the small ring and adds a disdained word "What is that doing here.. don't tell me that this is the mission we are to undertake?" He throws his question to the great eagle before pointing back at the ring in Amaranth's hand causing a bit of a show in the process.

The setting changes from Middle Earth to The Clearing

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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#, as written by Raidose
"You speak true Naerrandir, that's good. I do wear mask, but as you can probably tell everyone here does as well, I'm no exception. Though this includes you as well, just because you're a shade doesn't mean you don't have your own secrets." The tarnished silver plate armor clinked as Valinor turned at the hip to face the elven maiden. No words were uttered, none needed. He merely reached up.... and removed his helmet. The inky void was revealed to be a black mist, and with no form in which to contain it, it now bubbled over the rim of his cuirass like fog from a witch's cauldron. From deep within the core of the headless silhouette came a small chuckle, followed by Valinor's response. "Tell me then, ever wise maiden of the fair folk, of where left do I hold the sanctity in which to keep secrets? I am as my past has made me." Placing back his helm, the slithering tendrils of the dark vapours retracted back into their shelter as if time had reversed.

"More's to say we're going to be th' stick, friend, and these are the carrot. Orcs'll be salivating at the chance t' get them back t' Mordor, and if they're chasing us, they aren't chasing others."

"Ah, the ever desired role of 'Enticing Bait'. Surely they will sing songs of our noble quest this day...." Valinor mocked, his words dripping with sarcasm. His blank "face" turned towards the hobbit, the lack of best intentions radiating off of him. "And where shall you be in all of this, little one? Perhaps you may find usefulness in decorating a pike with your cor-" he was cut short by the deafening cry of the Eagle as, with a single beat of his massive wings, a mighty gale was sent forth, knocking Valinor several feet away. The dead Arnorian rolled to his feet, hand on hilt. "A pox on you, glorified fowl!"

"Silence! I shall tolerate no more! I think we all have had our fill of your vile tones this day, Valinor. Speak again and I shall cast you into the sea."

"Try such, bird, and I promise my sword a new home in your heart..."

"Aye, and mayhap we may both take a plunge into the abyss. Though I shall be welcomed by all my ancestors in the life beyond, where as you will be welcomed by not but the bottom of the Sundering Seas. Is that truly where you wish this to lead then?"

Valinor's hand loosened it's grip, mindful that Durhnoram had just made checkmate. The thought of spending eternity trapped beneath the rolling waves of Arda made him shirk, as surely that would be a hell like no other. Finally he released the handle of his sword entirely. Durhnoram looked on, his stern and piercing expression softened. His words followed suit. "Gandalf had indeed told me that the Ages have not shown you much mercy, and I seek no vendettas here. But know this, I will be as your mirror. For every spout of bitterness which you would will upon our company, I shall return such in kind upon you. You promised your aid, and so I ask that you lend it without having us suffer your tongue." The reply of the shade was only to turn away. Silence was his answer, and the Great Eagle sighed. It would seem an uneasy truce, but such would have to suffice. Durhnoram looked on to the others, specifically Gavin and Harathir.

"I apologize, for I was not expecting one from such distant lands. I am truly grateful that there may indeed be a valorous man amongst the brigands, and my thanks as well to the stout folk under the mountains for gifting us with such a warrior. Indeed, Bernadette speaks true. What you see before you are the three Rings of Power, which were onced used in an attempt by The Great Foe to corrupt three Elven Lords. Long ago, when Sauron crafted The One Ring, he imbued it as such that no magic may ever locate it, for he did not wish any to know of his whereabouts. This has hence turned in our favor, for now even the Dark Lord himself can not find the Ring. These rings, however, can be seen by the Eye with but a glance. Together, they may call to the dark beings which follow Sauron, and may confuse them to chase us. For as long as he chases us, he does not chase the Ring Bearer..."

Durhnoram's gaze moved on to the Homely House beyond the thin veil of trees. "You see, my friends, in the courts of Rivendell sits the One Ring. We have it, and must never relinquish it to the forces of Mordor. Tomorrow one brave soul begins a perilous quest to destroy the foul thing and slay Sauron once and for all. To cast the Ring back into the infernal flames of Mount Doom from whence it was forged. No greater task has ever been set before one being in all our days, and this Hobbit, Frodo Baggins, can not be allowed to fail. Though he travels with the company of fine warriors of all domains, they are but few against many. So we must travel, we must lure the darkness to our trail and lead them astray. We must gain the attention of Sauron's Eye, so that it does not fall upon the Fellowship. I shall not lie, this quest will require us to brings forth the strength to match Trolls, the cunning to be the envy of rogues the world over, the will to shatter mountains, and hearts which may never become corrupted. This is why you have been called. And I find us fortunate that you have heeded this. Now then, two rings have been taken, and I believe their bearers to be the right choice, but to whom shall go the third?"

The setting changes from The Clearing to Middle Earth

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Bernadette nodded as each of the little group introduced themselves in turn. When Valinor started in on the Hobbit, however, the Beorning woman bristled. Her incoming wrath is handily deflected when the Great Eagle screeches fit to match every ounce of the Shade's venom.

As he goes on to reveal the fine detail of the task set before them, Bernie frowns softly. Not out of concern - indeed she relished the idea of drawing the Dark Lord's ire and stringing his forces out on a long and bloody chase - but for the gravity of that chase. If they failed, or fell too soon, it would not be their own lives squandered. It would be the death knell of the true Fellowship, and perhaps even Middle Earth itself.

In thought, she sets the accursed metal at the hollow of her neck to spinning again with a flick of her fingers and casts out her gaze onto the rest. Who, indeed, would take the last ring? She didn't know any of them by more than the names they had freshly given. Dwarves were stout, but vain and greedy things who were slow to care for anything but themselves. Durhnoram had referred to that Harathir as one among Brigands, yet here he stood at the request of the Grey Wizard himself. The Shade had already refused. The elf? She was the oldest and most practiced of them all, and perhaps Valinor's argument with her had just been one more aspect of the ghost's poisonous temper.

Who, indeed, to bear the last Ring of the Elven Kings?

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Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Gavin could feel a sense of intense hatred seething from the shade as he voiced his distaste for the Elven maiden and he could understand why. Elves were by they're nature not the most sociable of people and if Gavin had his say in the forming of the group she would not be here. Just the thought of having an Elf in the mix of company was already putting a horrible taste in his mouth and he was threatening to snatch his head to the side and spit once again to show his displeasure.

But there was the question of the ring, one of the three Elven lord rings that in the past were used to such nefarious means.
Now was the chance to seize such a fine prize for himself, there were those in his land back home that would give much for such a fine treasure and not even ask how he came of it.
However his duty to the old wizards words remained and there was the knowledge that Gandalf knew of the missing treasure he had been missing all these years. The very thought wet his appetite and he silently strode forward reaching his large fingers into the pouch. Taking care to use subtlety in grasping the last of these horrid artifacts and soon it was within his grasp.

"Strange, such a small thing.. who would ever guess?"

He rolls the ring on the tip of his fingers slowly taking in what it looks like and enjoying his ability to actually be there and have it to himself.

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Amaranth's face showed the concern that filled her mind as she wondered how the others must see her. A small bard hobbit had no place with these warriors. However a tall man suddenly spoke words, making her almost jump from his deep voice.
"Fear not, Amaranth Brandybuck from Hobbiton, Gandalf the Grey chooses carefully his agents it seems."
Amaranth gave a large, childlike smile before bowing her head. "Thank you." She muttered. The simply words encouraged the small hobbit more than one could possibly imagine and it brought her spirits back up. With those few words, she suddenly had the courage and determination that no matter what the journey may be, she was ready for it.
When the man who had so graciously given the encouraging words spoke his name, she repeated it in her mind, hoping to remember it. Her attention was then taken by the dwarf who spoke. His gruff voice made her wince a little at the coldness of it, however she simply took note of his name and gazed at the others. However, her attention moved back onto Gavin when he pointed at the small satchel in her hands and the two ring, one inside the bag the other in her right hand. She gazed at them a bit more before looking back to the dwarf, still not sure of what everyone spoke of. She had only felt an odd chill from the rings, the feeling you get when you know someone unseen is watching you. Other than that, there was nothing she felt from the rings.

Valinor was the next to grab her attention with his venomous words.
"And where shall you be in all of this, little one?"
Amaranth glared at the large shadow man as he spoke. She wasn't sure what her place would be, but she knew she belonged amongst the group. When the Great Eagle gave a scream, she cringed at the sound but was amazed that she was defended. She had not expected anyone to defend her, more or less the Great Eagle of legend, Durhnoram. Despite the fact she thought Valinor deserved the hit from the Eagle...or anyone from that matter, she felt a bit bad. She did not want to be the source of trouble, she was here to spread hope and faith among the group. These thoughts were interrupted by Durhnoram who spoke of their quest and the rings, two of which she still held. 'These rings are three rings of power made by Sauron?" her mind nearly gasped. "That must be why everyone looked at them with wanting and fear...but...why wasn't I effected?"

"You see, my friends, in the courts of Rivendell sits the One Ring."
Amaranth looked beyond the forest trees and to the magnificent city of Rivendell, while still listening to Durhnoram. Suddenly, her eyes widened at the word 'hobbit' and she gasped at the name. "Frodo!" She cried outloud, in almost horror. She had known him growing up and he was one of the few hobbits in Hobbiton that she would call a friend. Of course, he was a good bit older than she, however, she often listened to Bilbo's stories with Frodo, as well as Gandalf's. The expression on her face showed the horror and concern in her heart for the man she knew. She hung her head as she listened to the task set before them. Though she wished Gandalf had told her of the quest, she was determined to not turn back. Even if she had not been yearning for an adventure, she would still go for Frodo. Though he might not be blood to her knowledge, he was family to the small hobbit and she had grown to love him as so.

When Durhnoram spoke of two of the rings having bearers already, she gazed at them. Only one had been taken. Did that mean that she was to be the bearer of one of the rings? She took a deep breath and assured herself that she was capable of the task. After all, the rings didn't affect her as they did the others, though she still wondered why. Her fingers curled around the ring in her right hand to form a fist while her left hand still held the bag with the last ring. Her bright green eyes scanned her comrades and she wondered who would take it. Her eyes stopped on the elven woman, Kavrala. Since she was elven, didn't that mean she should take the last ring? Her attention moved to the dwarf who stepped forward and gently placed his hand in the satchel, feeling the ring. When he removed his hand, Amaranth gave a look of doubt but kept her thoughts to herself. She had heard great and horrible things of dwarves, however this one did not appear to hold the greatness of the ones she had heard about in Bilbo's stories.

Taking another deep breath, she pushed the thoughts of the dwarf aside and focused on the ring in her hand. She decided to place it in her pocket for the time being, since she was not able to attach it to a necklace at the moment. A hand was placed on her shoulders, making her look up at Kavrala. Amaranth forced a smile, that looked at bit apologetic. She hoped that the elven woman did not hold a grudge for her giving the ring to the dwarf, when in Amaranth's mind, Rala should have gotten it.
"You are already helping, by carrying that ring you prove to all of us how strong you are against its power. We need you whether you realize it or it not."
The smile on her face changed from apologetic to thankful as she nodded her head, in almost a bow. "I thank you sincerely for the kind words, ma'am. I will do my very best on this journey." She replied, while taking Rala's words to heart. It became apparent that though some of the group might think she didn't belong, other's knew her worth. That thought in mind with the fact she was protecting Frodo was all she needed. Despite the fact she was no warrior, she would do her best to become one or do whatever she could for her company and the Fellowship.

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Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Gavin took the small ring and even though it was nowhere near a relative size to sit upon his finger, he would not dare to wear such an item seeing as after all he may have been greedy.. he was not stupid.
He takes the ring and sets it being the crest on his sash, making sure it is tied in and secure for the ride.

"So.." He voiced with a slight breath as he looked up at the great eagle. "What are we to do other then pick a direction and go.. obviously they will follow us to find such an assortment of prizes. His hand absentmindedly pats the section of his sash the ring sat behind. He ran information through his mind that he knew would be of use, everything he knew about the darker forces that would seem to be running ruin over the whole of middle earth.

The orc's & troll's of the highlands or the goblin hordes that run all about the lower plains.
Being a dwarf himself, he was all too eager to take this fight to the little green skins, breaking they're holds and routing the so called excuses for armies they called themselves. Knowing full well that it would be his own personal war that he wanted to run amok on them and not really care for the understanding of present company. His hand ran along the edge of an axe that was hung low on his belt and he looked at the young hobbit that would be accompanying them. He was well older then most other dwarfs that kept to war and was not really certain that he had ever seen a hobbit fight. Other then the side game of rounders of course, but that was a game.. and this was war.

The setting changes from Middle Earth to The Clearing

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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#, as written by Raidose
The Trollshaws, usually a thriving forest full of life and sound, suddenly went dead silent. No birds, no insects, all the creatures of the woods seemed to have fled this area. An unnatural stillness befalls the group as the hairs on the back of the dwarve's necks perk up. A strange, corrupt and filth-ridden scent crept it's way to Bernadette. Harathir, a man who's known the winds as his friend just as any sailor worth his salt, took notice as to how that gentle kiss of a breeze faded away. As clear a sign of ill omen as hearing 'gulls cry on the horizon. The keen ears of both elf and hobbit caught the slightest of rustle in the leaves. They were surrounded. But how? They may be outside the walls of Rivendell, but only by a short distance. Surely, no evil could find it's way here so soon, could it? The arrows of orcs remove all doubt, as the fell beings fall from the trees and storm over rocks and logs. This is no attack force, merely a scouting party. Though there is no mistaking their blood lust. They seek the rings, and your heads on pikes. But a taste of what is to come.

Image




"Hmmm..... So a dwarf can lust over something of elven making. Tell me I am not alone in finding irony in such a-..... Did anyone else notice the lack of ambiance? It's as if the woods have died."


A familiar feeling crept over Valinor, the chilling feel of malicious eyes peering from unknown areas. Any soul who's ever walked the field of battle knew this sensation, this was the feeling known to most fallen soldiers, the feeling of paranoia before the ambush. The tree's own life force emitted an annoying amount of light as Valinor tried to spot anything beyond them, blocking his spectral vision. A single dark blot appeared, marking it's presence with an arrow bouncing off of his helmet. Several other arrows followed suit, all in a faster repetition than any single orc could fire. Thirteen or fourteen arrows, impacting Valinor's upper body with enough force to plant him smartly on his back while knocking his helm off. An orc screeched from the trees above, dropping down for the killing blow. Upon landing on Valinor, orc became confused with why the armor appeared empty, only to have the surprise of it's now-shortened life. A black mist bellowed from the neck of the armor, enveloping the creatures face in the ethereal darkness as Valinor impaled the orc with his blade.

The assault on this gathering had begun, as many a lightly armed orc scrambled to the battle. One such minor cretin leaped at him with it's crudely made machete, though years of encounters with these foul beasts allowed Valinor to easily parry the blow. A step to the side and a swift strike to the back of the creature's blade forced the orc to over-swing it's attack, leaving it wide open to the counter attack. A precise slash across the spine did the job efficiently, having no need to embellish the attack for such a gathering. Using the tip of his sword to retrieve his helm, Valinor flicked his headpiece back in back, held there by his ghostly form. Now with the orcish advantage exhausted, he strode to meet his foes. Flicks and wisps of shadow wafted from under his cloak and his black, formless face. Few things were truly so dreadful as to freeze an orc in place, and Valinor quickly became one of them. His mere gaze was enough to instill terror into the loathsome cretins, causing them to stall their charge upon him. Of course, that just meant the first attack was his to claim. And he did so with all the wrath this fallen Gondorian had withheld throughout the Age.

"As All Of Your Fell Kind Will Soon Learn, I'm A Lot Scarier Than You Are...."


A quick flick of his wrist caused his bastard sword to nip the forearm of his attackers, building momentum for his strikes to follow. Valinor brought his sword tip across the belly of the wounded orc, before spinning for the slash at it's companion's throat. Arcing his sword arm wide around, bring it up forcefully and sending yet another orc's rended body flailing through the air. Now flaunting a fair bit of his skill, Valinor spun his back towards the next charging enemy, flipping his sword backwards into an reverse-grip style and stabbing the orc through it's gut. Mid-stab, Valinor kicked a sneering beasty at his front while his dislodged his sword. He loomed over the now-panicking creatures, blade in hand and sinister grin on his ephemeral face. Valinor brought the blade up wood-chopping style, but before he could end the orc, an arrow shot straight through the side of it's head. His shadows flaring angrily for being denied his kill, it didn't take long to spot the source. Kavrala, dispatching several more orcs in a similar fashion. Her face was rather lacking of expression, but there was likely a tad bit of satisfaction in there somewhere.

Damn Elves......

The setting changes from The Clearing to Middle Earth

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Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Gavin was not really supportive of this whole thing in mind, though he had known Gandalf and his reputation long enough to know that the wizard would come through on his word. The image of the most greatest of treasures sat in the back of his mind as he adjusted his sash and returned to his things.
The laps of the shades own ethereal tongue as a form of ill consent towards Gavin and his apparent desire of the ring was not missed. But he would let such a thing slide, because the Elves were a race where they're own creations and wares did not possess the same brash overlording manner that they were so well known for.

But when the stillness came Gavin knew something was ill approaching, you don't spend so long in the company of war to no know what such a feeling means and he was quick to retrieve his weapon from the ground letting his sack fall from his shoulder. The first sound to break the silence was an arrow breaking the shadows and glancing against the side of Valinor's helm, knocking it from his "shoulders" and garnishing his own attentions to turn towards his attackers. The bounding Orc that threw itself from the trees was the first to be seen as only a few more came pouring from the treeline and nearer still to the clearing.
Though the shade was quick to dispatch his foe and gather to his feet after his short fall, allowing him to recount himself as Gavin began to move up behind. The creatures stopped just short of the clear, notable to what they were looking at. As shade from the old world and a being that they most likely never would have seen in the normal throws of their days in darkness.

This was Valinor's moment as he took the first moment to strike and the Elf was next to follow suit.
But Gavin was not one to be outdone, he sauntered forth and bore down on the enemy holding his sword ahead like a great mast fording a river. As he moved wide from his party several of the beast broke off to keep him from flanking them and he smiled.

This group was at least smart enough to do true combat, but weather or not they were capable would soon come to light. Three of the snarling orc's broke forward clamoring to strike at him and Gavin gave a mighty swing of his sword which one was unfortunate enough to try to parry. The nature of Gavin's swing was not to cleave but to crush and his strike forced its was through, snapping his pathetic blade and crushing his head in the process. The other two caught the force on the edge of the swing shattering bone and armor alike, they're bodies careened back into the mob.

Gavin planted his stance in obvious defiance, awaiting his next targets.

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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The elvin woman looked around, the complete silence of the forest making her a bit uneasy. Her eyes quickly scanned the trees, but stopped on one spot in the bushes when she heard a noise, a slight rustling in the leaves. She quietly and quickly took her bow from its resting place and grabbed an arrow. It seemed she did so just in the nick of time because a small ambush of orcs came running out with arrows flying at them from the trees. One by one, Rala distributed her arrows, hitting the orcs between the eyes or at least close enough, but either way it was an instant death for the enemy at hand.

"Stay close," she told Amaranth, stepping between her and the orcs. She wasn't entirely sure of the hobbit's skills in combat, so she figured it was best to protect her, for now. Her movements were strong and yet fluid and there was no hesitation taken while shooting her arrows, once she knew she had the arrow safely secured in its spot it was released with what seemed like no time for finding a target, but Rala had been looking ahead and knew where the arrow was heading.

She was down to only a few more arrows when she noticed Valinor making his way towards a small group of orcs, terrifying them by using what he was. Not a bad plan, Rala thought, Orcs are not known for being scared, but if you can find something, use it. It seemed he found his next prey, one that was cowering under his blade that looked as though it would be chopping wood. To show that she was more than just a pretty face, more than the other elves, she shot the orc that Valinor was about to kill. She could tell that he was looking her way and though she showed no emotion, she did feel a slight raise in her pride at having stolen his kill. She used the rest of her arrows and quickly switched to her hand scythes, slinging the bow back around her. She didn't, however, leave her place by Amaranth's side, not wanting to leave the hobbit in a place of danger where no one would be able to get to her in time. Instead, Kavrala stood her ground by the hobbit's side and waited for the orcs to come to her. When they were close enough the elvin woman would take them down. Though her movements were more graceful than most, they were not up to elvin standards. Her movements seemed to belong rather to a well trained human than a well trained elf. Her stabs were more forceful, digging in deeper and slightly past just killing; her cuts were messier and deeper than an elf would normally go; and her over-all movements weren't quiet as quick as they could be, they showed strength rather than speed.

She could see the enemy was losing, and why not? The force that Gandalf had put together was well planned. Kavrala could see that though they may not like each other, they could fight together well and could possibly take down most any opposing force. Kavrala only hoped that they would keep their fighting pointed towards their enemies and not each other. If they turned on each other the whole group would be lost, possibly even lives would be. Kavrala knew that they would need to become a group mentally soon if they wanted to keep the Fellowship safe otherwise they may tear at each other's throats and destroy themselves instead. Though she was uncertain if that was even possible; the dynamics in this particular group were very different and would always on the verge of destruction.

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone Character Portrait: Harathir the Corsair
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Bernadette watched the dwarf claim the last of the rings without misgiving. He seemed a stout, powerful sort as all his kin were, so it seemed to be no harm that he should be the one to carry one. Valinor spits more of his bile, but the Beorning woman is distracted from reminding him of the Eagle's promise by a sudden reeking breath of wind.

Her nostrils flare and she actually curls her lip as an animal might to catch a better scent, "There's something-" Her warning is unnecessary, as the other well-versed members of the erstwhile party are already reacting to the ominous atmosphere.

Clang!

Valinor's dark armor is staggered and felled by arrows from the woods, but the Shade has no worry for mortal weapons, and he rises to meet the orcs that follow the bolts. Bernadette is not far behind him, with the dwarf Gavin a length to her side.

"Eurrraaauugh!" Her bellow is full-throated and comes straight from her gut, echoing with more force than most Men could muster and hinting at the raging beast that she did not yet reveal, relying on her spear instead. And a considerable threat it is, too, as the heavy ash pole descends with a sickening crunch onto the skull of an orc that chooses the highland woman as its target.

A savage thrust right off the top of the newly-curved skull impales the leaf-shaped blade through the chest of another, and a brutal twist frees it again in a spray of orcish ichor.

Bernie wades into the fray as a force of nature; angry and implacable. The orcs fall left and right of her to Valinor, Gavin, and Kavrala, proving that this little erstwhile group -did- possess at least the motivation to survive strong enough to drive their enemies before them. And drive they do, pushing back against the ambush and punishing the interlopers. It isn't long before Bernadette is out of enemies in her immediate range, and she sets herself with the spear tip hovering in front of her, daring more of the foul creatures to come back and try their luck.

The setting changes from Middle Earth to The Clearing

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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#, as written by Raidose
Slowly the three which took the front began to form a defensive circle. The long sweeps of Gavin's enormous blade, if indeed it could even be called that, were followed up but the aggressive thrusts of Bernadette's spear. The orcs were kept wary of charging any slight openings by the cold and precise slashEs of Valinor. Kavrala stood off to the side a bit, defending the hobbit while the green skinned filth kept their attention on these three, though that didn't mean she was without a tally here. Indeed, more than a handful of orcs had mistaken her or her new charge as a victim, stumbling back with a grubby hand clasped around it's bleeding throat. Valinor had counted around nine kills under his belt, with the warrior woman at his side right behind him. Gavin? Hard to tell, seeing as the majority of his victims were left a messy paste upon the ground. The results of his weapon were equal parts effective, and horrifying. A hammer that's disguised as a sword. Only a dwarf...

Behind the shrieks and battle cries, ragged bowstrings, made from the guts and rawhide of fallen warbeasts, creeks and whines as a filth ridden hand pulls it taught. Beedy eyes aim down the sights of a notched arrow, it's jagged head barely poking through the leaves. Disgusting lips crack open in a heinous grin of broken teeth, the arrow ready to let fly. As sudden as a clap of thunder, the sun is blotted out. An ear-piercing screech marks Durhnoram's dive, his talons reaching after their squat bodies with lightning speed. Another cry of the Great Eagle as with a single beat of his wings he takes flight again, two flailing orcs in each clawed foot. Arcing high, he casts the twisted creatures out towards the rapids of the Loudwater. The orcs begin to scatter, seeking shelter from the Bird of Prey.

They were not but a small raiding party, expecting a quick skirmish to catch their foes off-guard and easily overwhelmed. Gandalf had chose well, for though they bickered and argued, these four had been fighters. Warriors, whose prowess came instinctual. In times of combat, they were quick to form up, to ignore their grievances. Whether for vengeance, anger, the will to survive, or the drive to be victorious. They were fighters, and little more. True, these were volatile individuals. Each with a vice which may or may not have outweighed their virtue, but if they could band together, if they could not destroy each other..... Then maybe they could stand against the tide. A thorn in the side of Sauron, which may become a dagger in time. And Amaranth? She had her own role to play in this, one that was equally as paramount. One that she would find when it came of need.

The orcs regrouped, finding their nerve once more. Valinor's armor glowed with a cold air and foreboding menace, but these little bastards had apparently found a spine, for they were not having any of it. His gauntleted hand tugged at an arrow in his cuirass, one of only three which struck hard enough to pierce. Thankfully the iron of Mordor was not known for it's quality. With a skillful flick of his blade, he sliced them off at the shafts. The less things pestering him, the better. He raised his sword, letting it catch a beam of sunlight. It's dark steel refused to glint as he brought it back down before him in a low guard. His foot slid back, bracing him in preparation to receive. The orcs screeched again, making their charge. It was short lived.

The air filled with the glint of white-gold and mithril. Arrows materialised from out of the foliage, striking as sudden as a storm. Orcs fell limp all around, feathered fletchings sticking from their lifeless bodies. As soon as the wave of arrows had begun, it ended. If any had blinked, they may have missed the whole event. They were dead. Every single orc, gone. Valinor made the mistake of moving away from the group, strolling over to the remains with a morbid curiosity. "Well... That went better than expec-" he was cut off by a quiver-full of elven arrows piercing into his back. Through the branches and leaves, the figures of Elven archers could be seen encroaching to continue their attack.

"Hold your fire!" Durhnoram's voice boomed from above. The fallen leaves kicking up and dancing on the gusts from his landing. "You strike at one of our party." The Great Eagle stepped between the Elves and Valinor as the wraith composed himself. This was not so much for Valinor's safety as it was to stop his retaliation. One of the elves betrayed his rank as leader, raising a hand as the others lowered their bows. "You make... strange allies. I would not have thought those of Grey Pilgrim's choosing would travel with such a dark creature." "Why don't you step closer if you are to accuse me..." the son of Casllion hissed, taking an aggressive stride towards the elf. A large feathered wing shot out, blocking his bath. The stern gaze of Durhnoram clashed against the wrathful one of Valinor before the shade stood down. Forcefully sheathing his sword in a huff, Valinor merely stood back away from his antagonists.

"Strange times call for friends from whencesoever they come." The Elf and the Wraith once more exchange glances, before the archer's arrow finally was returned to it's quiver. "Then I suppose I owe an apology for not arriving sooner. We have been trailing the orcs since they first came down from the Ettenmoors. To evade us, the burrowed underground through the spider tunnels which unfortunately lace these woods. This was... quite clever of them. I would say too clever. It seems that the dark forces have taken notice of you." Durhnoram grimaced. It would appear that the plan was working almost too well, but then this was expected. He looked back to the others.

"Well then, we should be off before more foes are drawn here. Make ready to travel, for we must depart."

The setting changes from The Clearing to Middle Earth

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Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Gavin took a large huff of air as the Elves intervened, striking down the remaining foes and casting their bodies to the earth.

As they approached from the tree line he caught a curse in his mouth and instead of speaking it, spat to his side. He had just joined the group not long ago and already he found his limit of Elves exceeded far beyond the usual. He was however glad to see that there was one among the group that shared the same love of them that he did, or perhaps even less then that. The thought drifted across his mind as a small smirk grew out of the apparent irony.

He returns his sword to its sling on his back and instantly takes notice of an arrow stuck firmly in the fabric of his sleeve. His chain mail was enough to deflect the shot but his clothing had done the job of keeping a prize. After removing the arrow he returned to his satchel and picked it up from the dirt. "I believe our dark friend here has the idea, moving now would be a good decision. Because I don't delight in the thought of fighting a warg in such confines thank you very much.."

Sliding an axe from his sash he hefts it in his right hand and slings his satchel over his left shoulder.
The fight was fun however as he did get the chance to kill some of the fowl green skins so quickly. Who knows, maybe before this whole deed was done they would have killed more then he thinks of for fare trade.

"But honestly, had I known that we would have gotten to the good part so early.. I would have gotten here sooner." He says as he saunters up towards the tree line.

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Rala put her scythes away when the first arrow shot passed her. She knew who was firing the arrows and though she agreed that they were good help, she was still less than pleased, and unsure where the conversation was going to head once they figured out who she was. She watched silently as a wave of arrows struck at Valinor, nearly knocking him over and then started to pick up arrows, whether they were her's or one of the other elves'.

She listened, without looking, as the leader started talked, "You make... strange allies. I would not have thought those of Grey Pilgrim's choosing would travel with such a dark creature," a pause as the Great Eagle interrupted, "Then I suppose I owe an apology for not arriving sooner. We have been trailing the orcs since they first came down from the Ettenmoors. To evade us, the burrowed underground through the spider tunnels which unfortunately lace these woods. This was... quite clever of them. I would say too clever. It seems that the dark forces have taken notice of you."

At hearing this they had their orders to start moving out, however Rala walked up to the leader, "Do you then think that someone gave them orders to hide in the spider tunnels?" She asked. It was too clever of orcs to use the spider tunnels to evade the archer squad. The leader looked straight in her eye which made him stiffen. He had recognized her, not from any descriptions he heard through rumors or that they had actually met, but he would see the revenge, the hatred, and especially the sorrow in her eyes clear as sunny meadow day.

"It is possible," his tone had grown serious and more tight as if he were talking to someone on a lower rank, which was true; Rala's rank was not even on the scale he put himself on. His voice lowered, "Now you should catch up with your group before you are left behind, Kavrala." He turned. Rala just stood staring at him, no change in her posture to reveal the tense moment of being treated as an abomination. Rala shook her head, having had this happen every time she ran into another elf. To them she was not technically an elf anymore. Though she was still not at the level of a dwarf which she was grateful for, though it was just barely. Without looking back to the leader Rala went to pick up her pack, it was not very much what she carried just a little food, some water, a blanket, an extra pair of boots, and her father's journal. Her feet led her then back to Amaranth, a person she could foresee that she would be spending a lot of time with as the hobbit was one who did not seem to judge her.

"Are you ready for the long journey?" she asked Amaranth.

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Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Amaranth winced at the sudden screech of the large guarding bird. Her eyes glimmered with unsaid thanks as she watched it carry two orcs off. The words were whispered into the air, though she wasn't sure if the eagle would even hear them or not. It wasn't natural for a hobbit to be fighting orcs, and it was more than a challenge for the small girl. She was half the size of most of the orcs that had tried to attack the small group. It had been sheer luck that the one she managed to kill was the same height as her. She knew she probably would not get this lucky again.

She stood her ground while watching all around herself. She wasn't sure how many there were, but until everyone else assured her it was safe, she would have her guard up. Suddenly, white gold shot past her and she could hear the arrows making contact with orcs, who then screeched before making a thud as they hit the ground. Her eyes looked in the trees and everywhere else until she found the source that produced the arrows. Elvin archers. She was beyond grateful for their assistance.

However, she was shocked when they struck Valinor. "No, stop!" She cried while stepping forward with her hands in the air. "He is our allie!!" She proclaimed but the Eagle screeched and started to explain to them, though it was obvious he was not happy with their sudden attack.
The elven man who looked to be in command of the archers spoke of how odd the group was. There was no doubting that, in anyone's mind. She couldn't help but to smile at the reply the Eagle gave and she almost felt proud.

"Well then, we should be off before more foes are drawn here. Make ready to travel, for we must depart."

Amaranth frowned at the sudden thought of traveling. Her pony had long since kicked her belongings to the side and ran away from the attack. That left her on foot. If her legs were longer, or even as long as everyone else's, this wouldn't be a problem. However, hobbits were known for short and stubby legs that were slower than everyone else's, except for maybe dwarves.

With the cost clear, Amaranth walked over to the large bag and sighed. Of course, with her pony gone, she would have to downsize quite a bit, just so she could manage the bag. She tried to secretly look at Gavin, to see what all he had brought with him. She wasn't even sure what she would need or wouldn't need. Her pride kept her from asking the others. If she was to ask, it would only prove to them she was not ready for the adventure, something she did not want them to think, even if it was true.

She took out a few changes of clothes, leaving her with two in the bag. Next, she took out the books she had packed, on the encase she would get a chance to read. Lastly, was the large pen set she had been given. It was a shame to leave it there, however, one quill would suffice for writing, if she ever got the chance. The bag was much lighter, though she was not happy to leave the things. All that remained in the bag was a few bundles of food, her violin, its bow and extra strings, a book, one quill and ink well, and two changes of clothes. With a sigh, she snatched the bag up and tossed it over her shoulder.

"Are you ready for the long journey?"

Amaranth looked over to Rala and smiled lightly. "Yes ma'am" She replied in a rather chipper tone, that would be odd if she were anything other than a hobbit. She had to stay positive. She had to try and keep their spirits up, as much as she could. Even if she did not feel happy on the inside, she knew she should show the others happiness. Her eyes glanced to the things she had taken out of her bag one last time before she looked back to Rala. "I'm ready." She replied in a happy tone, before looking to see if the others were also ready.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Arrows fly, and Bernadette stamps the butt of her spear into the earth, leaning against it to watch the feathers sprout in the backs of orcs with a cheery smile on her face. She remains perfectly still, having heard of the accuracy of Elven archers, so she's slightly surprised when Valinor gets riddled by arrows. Again.

When the Eagle descends to admonish the attack on their dark companion, and it's clear that only Valinor's pride suffered any damage, Bern cant help but laugh a bit. The scene really was silly, when taken with a bit of humor, and after a round of orc killing to begin their journey, she was ready to be in high spirits.

The elves have no intention of sharing in her mirth, and make it plain that they feel the group should move along sooner rather than later.

"Well then, we should be off before more foes are drawn here. Make ready to travel, for we must depart."

The eagle agrees, and Bern has no objections, gathering her own scant belongings. Really the bag just held some travel rations, and sat woefully empty on the highland woman's broad shoulders. One such as herself didn't normally want for much in the wilderness. So when she sees the little hobbit trying desparately to decide what she could spare to bring and what she would have to sacrifice, Bern chuckles again and crouches down next to the Little Folk, scooping up a bit of extra to ease Amaranth's decisions.

She tosses the small woman a wink before standing again, pack properly filled, "If hobbits like their food and their comforts half as much as I've heard told, It'd be a damn shame to deprive you. Pay the favor back, perhaps, some night when we all could use a hot meal..." And Bern laughs heartily. Hobbit cooking was legendary, after all. Amaranth can decide what else is in the pack, or just call it miscellaneous goods.

Tapping her spear on the ground like a great, deadly walking staff, she saunters to join the rest of the party, indicating her readiness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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#, as written by Raidose
And, with their first steps taken upon a blood-stained ground, the journey of a thousand miles began. The dangers of the Trollshaws were few and far between, thinning out ever more as their company made way into the forest of the Coldfells. During this time, beautiful red and golden leaves adorned the branches of each tree, lightly drifting to the earthen ground with magical grace. All manner of wildlife did make merry within these woods, a boast of bountiful hunting. They scattered to the sanctuary of the shade whenever Durhnoram's shadow cast down upon them, a gentle reminder that he still guided them onward. The sun slid down the sky, casting a fiery crown upon the crest of the Misty Mountains. The last light was now upon them, slowly bidding itself farewell until the morrow.

The gentle ambiance of a surging brook was shattered as Valinor's steel-clad foot splashed through, the stone bed providing questionable support. Hissing and spitting curses towards the elves, Valinor wrestled with the last of the arrows lodged in his back. With a firm grasp and a solid yank, the final annoyance was cast down the stream. Though relieved that the task which pestered him all throughout the morning hours was now over, the shade was still displeased it had occurred at all. "For many a year have I kept this cuirass intact... A feat I doubt many others could ever claim, and now this. If truly there is any great justice to be had, those damn elves will end this day a troll's supper." Planting his boots on dry ground again, Valinor cast his spectral gaze down the trail. "The path which the bird leads us; I have walked it on cold nights 'fore. Tis a dark one, and leads yonder down into the Ettenmoors. ...This is not a road to tread lightly, let alone in the dark of night. At least, not for you mortals..."

Valinor turned on his heel towards his compatriots. "So what will it be? Should we brave the night into the dark woods? Or make good our fortifications here till first light? I doubt either will be free of unexpected guests. Last tale I heard from the living, there's been a long-standing skirmish with the Hillmen and Goblin chiefs for these lands."

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Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Gavin looked over his shoulder from time to time as the trail lead on, a cursory glance at most for one never knew what really walked behind them in such places. But he was somewhat annoyed and attached to what the shade was going through, listening to his woes. It was not the first time that elves had stepped in and perceived themselves the right on more then one occasion.

But a thought did hit his mind when Valinor spoke of keeping his armor intact all this time and it soon became vocal as well.

"It is a shame that such fine craftsmanship should be carried in such a way.. if you'd have it, I can shore up those notches. Wouldn't want a lucky axe strike to open those holes any further.. now do we?" Gavin could not really tell where he was speaking from. Either from the idea of helping a companion or from the standpoint of a dwarf who revered such time tested pieces like the shades armor.
But such an event would have to wait, not a forge was in site and it would be some time before they reached a haven that he knew of to take rest in. He gave his satchel a small tug to heighten it along his shoulder, feeling the chisels inside shift slightly.

As he looked on down the trail he could feel the breeze coursing past the party, though it was musty and stale as well it was easy enough to tell they were alone for now. But the thought of bedding down was starting to look good and only one idea was keeping him from saying so.
"I believe we should push on.. higher ground would suit best and I don't like the idea of bedding under a tree full of green skins. If I'm gonna have something over ma head it should be the sky, a roof, or stone.. and not preferably in that order."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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As Rala stalked through the forest, with no sounds coming from her, she noticed that the safety of the evlen forest was being left behind and that their path had taken them to a far more dangerous wood. She was walking behind Valinor, something that she was not too happy of, but she had a feeling that that is where she would be needed most.

The whole way Rala forced herself to not say a word for she knew if she opened her mouth something unkind would come out towards the wraith. She was annoyed by his low mutters that the evlen rangers who shot him should become a troll's dinner. Though she was not on the best of terms with the other elves, they were still her kin and so she felt so inclined to stand up for them as they were not there themselves to do so. But she also knew that her presence was already putting half the group on edge and she did not need to go making matters worse by standing up for her kind. Though if this was how it was going to be throughout their entirety of their travels then she knew that things would be come very nasty in the group and they may fall apart.

When Valinor stopped it was at the edge of the forest they had been travelling all day in and one that held much darker dangers than they had seen that day. He proposed the question of whether they should continue through the night or set up where they stood. The dwarf, apparently having found an ally with the wraith, agreed with Valinor that they should continue, and surprisingly so the hobbit agreed as well. Though just by looking at her Rala could tell that small Amaranth was starting to get well beyond her limit.

"If we're going to continue forward to find higher ground I should say that we only continue on till the moon is at it's peek and wherever we are by then find a temporary safe haven close to there as possible. We don't want to be searching and moving all night or else our energy may be misplaced by tomorrow," Kavrala answered. She knew that both the dwarf and wraith would be the ones to raise grief with her answer, but she also knew that it would't be because it was a bad idea, but rather it was an coming from an elf. She only hoped that Bernadette and Amaranth would side with her so that she would at least have the majority with her. Though even then she was unsure of what they might say. Amaranth seemed friendly with everyone which was good because their maybe need for a peacekeeper in the near future, while Bernadette; Kavrala was completely unsure. While the rough woman did not seem to have any obvious reason to dislike the elf, she did not seem so inclined as to raise dispute with the dwarf and wraith either. It was up in the air, now, of what they would end up doing that night.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Bernadette wasn't all that far ahead of the short-legged hobbit; the woman preferred a lazy, plodding pace that might come close to infuriating her more travel-accustomed companions. But no amount of subtle huffing or grumbling would stir her from her chosen stroll.

She enjoyed the sights on the journey, but as the sun began to settle, she cant help but poke fun at poor Valinor with a rumbling chuckle, "Braggin ya kept that armor in one piece because ya avoided combat up till now is like braggin ya never lost a game a chance by not playin' em." It's entirely likely she simply didn't understand that the armor was linked to Valinor's very existence on this plane, because there's no malice in her tone.

"Goblins see by night a fair stretch better'n everyone else here... Ghost excluded cause f' all I know you see clear to Mordor... Point is; we don't need to be stumbling about under the moon hopin' there's suitable shelter while any Greenskins nearby wait for th' right time, when we can set up soon and have more time t' set a defense and a watch. You'll have ta get comfortable with th' idea of the sky sooner or later, Gavin."

The highland woman had said her piece, but didn't intend to argue if the others insisted on pushing forward. She took the short rest they were taking now to approach the stream and sit on a stone at its bank just upstream from Valinor, cooling her heels and refilling a waterskin in the clear trickle.

They'd left the relative safety of Elven lands, but Bern had never relied on them for her safety before. It did, however, mark the farthest from her mountains she'd ever ventured. Every step was something new and stirring, with the promise of more to come. The danger ahead excited the beat of her heart and made her every sense keener. She found herself smiling at the anticipation of goblin blood spilled, and only Orc blood might make her happier.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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#, as written by Raidose
The thought of dwarven hands crafting Arnorian regalia did set Valinor at unease, though in truth Gavin's words held weight. The decision was losing alternatives, and wondering Middle Earth as a hapless spirit with no path nor redemption was not a tempting option. Though these thoughts were severed by the sharpened sting of Bernadette's retort. While the list was long in ways to earn Valinor's ire, none did this as swiftly as an accusation of cowardice. Though it may or may not have been such, this is how the wraith viewed it. Though before he could summon the appropriate amount of bile in his words, his eyes caught something.... out of place amongst their gathering.

Another spirit, a guardsmen of some militia of the Free People, who limped and trudged blindly on some wayward path, leaving no clue to his presence amongst the living save for a sudden chill. With eyes darkened with fear, sundered chainmail stained with his own blood, and hand still clasped absentmindedly to the severed stump of his shield arm, this haunting form drew Valinor's gaze. In low, maddened, and somewhat nonsensical whispers he rambled on. "They.... they came.... in the night they..... came..... in the.... they...." His demented words were unsettling, sending an eerie chill through Valinor. "Who?" he ushered back in a tone no living thing could hear, though received no reply save for more rambling. "Who? Who came?! Speak sense, damn you!" Valinor's sudden bark finally broke the dead man's trance, as he turned to look upon with wraith with dark, sorrowful eyes. "On.... on horses they came.... they... took them..... slew them with cold blades..... the blackness.... shrouded in blackness..... and fear.... fell kind......"

The lost soul's eyes hardened as through grit teeth he added "your kind......!" in hissing revilement. The ghost drew it's blade with a hollow roar, dark promise of vengeance gleamed in his burning eyes. Valinor took an abrupt step back, letting show the steel of his sword from it's sheath. As soon as the angered revenant laid eyes upon the dark metal, it let loose a screech of agony and panic, fleeing into the abyss of the veil. Valinor knew well the stories of the revered blades of lost Numenor. Whether or not they were truly forged from sacred starlight, he cared not. He knew the tales of them cutting ethereal flesh to be as true as the curses of the dead. Ironic, he often thought, that he would carry and care for one of the few things that could banish him to the Void. Though these thoughts were not his now; too urgent those that concerned the warnings of the fallen soldier.

Still caring little for the scene he had just made for his living compatriots, he looked to the sky and beheld not the figure of Durhnoram. These woods were thick, and as such the Eagle would often disappear to survey the path ahead. Though Valinor still saw the great fowl's company as irksome at best, he now found himself denied the small comfort found in that large, overcasting shadow. "...... My agreeance goes to the elf and human. It is wiser to spend our time making ready what we have rather than waste our time seeking something may not even exist to be found." Try as he might, Valinor found himself hard pressed to hide the hints of worry in his voice. He knew all the old tales. Of Dark Riders in the night. Of cursed, fell beings whom stalked the land. Of Kings, of whom Valinor, in his youth, once swore to serve. They were Kings no more, now only puppets and pawns of the Great Enemy. Valinor knew not how long that soldier had died, nor how long his soul trekked, but it mattered not. For even if those fallen kings of old had come and gone long before his company had arrived, Valinor knew all too well that terrible things always followed in their wake.

"If we have the option, we should seek good ground. I've lost all doubts of us being alone this night....."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaranth Brandybuck Character Portrait: Kavrala Shalandalan Character Portrait: Bernadette Winterborn Character Portrait: Valinor Casllion Character Portrait: Gavin Shatter Stone
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Ghttp://www.roleplaygateway.com/include ... ld.gifavin swings his pack around to the next shoulder as he looks out into the darkness to see what Valinor could be reacting to.

But his eyes pick up little then a faint waver of light as it seems nothing could pass by as all.

However he can understand what the others mean, other then the fact that he wished to actually have a nice nights rest for once of what had seemed to be a month. Gavin pulls his weapon from his back and grips the pommel letting it swing to his side as he looked ahead. "There could be a rise further down the trail then, at least we can have high ground to fight from and maybe and nook to have a fire as well."

He begins to walk on ahead, spreading the dead leafs of the trail as he went upon his way.

Knowing full well that something could be watching from the corners of the trees or from the bushes nearby. But he was confident in his abilities and he knew full well that his companions would not be so easily taken by surprise also.

"Either way, we are not going to have a dull night no matter how much we try to avoid the inevitable."