Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[The Witch-King of Angmar]

This is a new RPG featuring an obscure future-king (Valandil, who has ever heard of him?) at the University of Southern Arnor. Oh, and a handful of future-nazgul too. What is Middle-earth coming to these days?

The discussion-thread of this game can be found here. The second discussion thread can be found here.
A thread with all the information necessary for playing can be found here.

[Valandil]

Descriptive Post:

Well - actually, Valandil already IS King and the Nazgul already ARE Nazgul.

This story begins in early September of year 49 of the Third Age. Wasn't all THAT long ago that the Last Alliance of Men and Elves gathered to defeat Sauron and his forces, when Elendil and Gil-galad fell in mortal combat with Sauron himself, and when Isildur cut the One Ring from the finger of their dread foe.

Nowadays, things are much more peaceful. Aging veterans tell stories about the war in inns up and down the lands - but war and strife are already distant things to most people who didn't see them - especially those who were too young to understand - or not even born - at the time.

It looks like the Third Age will be a glorious one for Men. Exiles from among the Faithful of the Numenoreans hold sway in two great kingdoms; Arnor in the north (where the High King over both kingdoms rules) and Gondor in the south. Although somewhat ravaged by war, these two allies (ruled by first cousins, no less) have no major enemies and no rivals. They both seem poised for greatness.

The Elves are still mighty, but definitely a fading force. They seclude themselves in their realms and sing about times long past. Their greatest stronghold is in Lindon, where Cirdan has taken over leadership of Gil-galad's kingdom. Elrond has his followers in Imladris, where he plans ambitious building projects - like adding at least one major addition to the place every 144 years. There are also Elves in places like Lorien, Greenwood and Edhellond, and a few other Elves wander about, but rather discretely. They mostly don't seem inclined to take part in whatever events may come.

Of the Dwarves, the Longbeards are thriving the most - expanding their realm in Moria - but they keep mostly confined to their underground homes, and don't grow in number as swiftly as Men do.

Nobody has heard of Istari or Hobbits - for it's about 1000 years before any of them will come into history.

Of Sauron's minions, the Orcs suffered some major setbacks and keep themselves pretty well hidden in out-of the way places. Dragons and trolls and fierce things like that have faded into vast wilderness areas and are rarely, if ever heard about - already seeming no more than 'fairy tales'.

Sauron and his greatest servants are gone - or thought to be. But in fact, the Nazgul have begun to stir. They are much weakened, and have their own liabilities, but still... they ARE Nazgul. And now they are free from Sauron, and the control he had over them by the One. But say... where IS the One now? Did anyone see Isildur take it? And Men talk as though he is dead - but has anyone seen a body? Is it all a ruse? And now Men are ruled by Isildur's young son - these great Men ruled by one who was too young to fight in the War - how DOES he command their respect?

Yes - the Nazgul are somewhat at peace, like everybody else - but their peace is troubled by thoughts of the One. What if someone else comes forward wielding it, to make them slaves once more? What if... unthinkably... Sauron was not ultimately destroyed in that mortal combat? What if... each one must think... what if I could be the one to find it, and take it as my own? And... they get these visions sometimes, and wonder if the One calls out to them... something that seems like a 'river'...

So - now we have Valandil taking courses at the University of Southern Arnor in Tharbad. The gossip-mongers of both kingdoms had a hay-day with this one, since the place has a 'party-school' reputation (perhaps because it IS a coeducational institution, quite rare for its day - but there's another in Pelargir and a couple others in less hospitable climes), but the official palace response was that it was the royal family's opinion that 'one can find whatever one is looking for, wherever one goes' - and Valandil always has SEEMED to be a serious student. But frankly, he has a lot of other things on his mind, as you'll see.

Valandil will be 60 later this year, which seems rather old to us people today, and those who were not of Numenorean stock then, for the histories tell us he would live to be 260! He hasn't even had to think about 'settling down' yet - although that may come in a few decades. But he has come to Tharbad, here on the southern edge of Arnor; to relax, to distract himself, to pursue a mystery. He must take care lest another mystery overtake him!

Players may be nazgul or their associates, Men or Elves, with maybe a Dwarf.

[Valandil]

Starting the Game:

Valandil sat at his favorite table at his favorite outdoor pub in Tharbad. It was beside the Greyflood River, which flowed steadily behind him - and very near the bridge, which was just downstream. It was also close to the riverfront house he had moved into, along with his entourage (some of whom were with him now - his Chamberlain, his Tutor - and his friends Ray and Marty). He was reading the latest issue of "Palantir Gazette" (a newletter, carefully copied by a scribe) - dated earlier this year - 49 Third Age. It was late on a Friday afternoon and the sun would soon be setting, but he was trying to find some way to take his mind off his classes... and girls. Or to think about the girls... he wasn't really sure.

Officially, he was in Tharbad to study - USAT (University of Southern Arnor at Tharbad). He had a rather heavy load: Ship-building I, Bridge-building II, Commerce, Embalming III and Wine-tasting. It was just early September, but he was already behind, and there was probably no way his 'keepers' would let him go to the big game tomorrow, much less play in it. Royals were expected to do the best in everything - but truthfully, even being in Tharbad, like reading the paper - was just meant to be a distraction.

Oh - he had really embarrassed himself that spring. His mother always wanted to go visit "Uncle" Elrond, so they had gone there once more. Only this time, in addition to having to endure his rather obviously aged mother making eyes at the Half-Elven, he had espied Celebrian... WOW! Of course he was quite taken (even her mother was HOT!), but she was quite cold toward him. He thought she'd've been more appreciative - she and her folks were like "Homeless Elves" (though not Houseless) - and they could have all come back to Evendim with him (where they said they had once dwelt - why couldn't they just say 'lived'?).

Well - you may know how this one came out. Turns out they were all making an 'arrangement' about Elrond and Celebrian - so Valandil and his mother, after a bit of an embarrassing scene, had slipped away and headed back for home. But he had been listless the rest of spring. Finally - in summer he decided to come to Tharbad and enroll for graduate-level classes in the Fall. But he chose Tharbad because of the stories about Nin-in-Eilph - and the mysterious Elf Maiden who was said to live there. His mother had insisted on him bringing enough 'advisors' to keep him under a pretty tight watch, but he had still managed to slip out a few nights before classes began, to go to the place of swans. He even thought he had seen her once... but he wasn't sure - had his eyes only been fooling him?

And then the rest of the students had begun to arrive. The campus was abuzz with the word that the High King was studying there, and most of his classmates were tripping over themselves to try and make his acquaintance. And the girls... eye-yie-YIE!

Anyway - if this would be strictly study, it would be a long 2 months before the 4-month Yule Break (followed by a month of Spring Semester, a month of Spring Break and then the second month of Spring classes). The moon would be a little past full tonight. It would be dark at first, but later there would be light to see by. He wondered if he could slip out again, before the moon rose - and then make his way back across the river.

A butterfly came fluttering about, breaking his thoughts. First he just watched it, then tried to catch it, but failed. This seemed to anger the thing so it danced madly around his face. He swatted at it, missing again (to the amusement of his companions) and then watched it fly away, toward the river. "Sigh," he thought. "Well - summer is ending and your days won't be much longer anyway, my pretty friend."

The serving girl came out with hot fresh bread and cheese and apple cider. The place began to fill up and the other patrons - a mix of students and townies - kept making furtive (what IS 'furtive' anyway?) glances his way. Perhaps it was time to leave.

[CrazySquirrel]

"And now, my boy, bring me a big piece of strawberries-and-cream cake and a HUGE glass of Dorwinion '13!"

The loud woman's voice on his right interrupted Val's musings. His eyes caught a blur of red and green, and his nose caught a whiff of exotic flagrance, as the woman passed his table. Turning his head, he beheld the most amazing creature he has ever seen in his life. The first thing he noticed (and in fact the first thing any male seeing Lily registered) was that she was really BUXOM. She also had generous hips and a ridiculously tiny waist. The emerald green dress she wore had a low-cut neckline (far too low for a mid-day visit to a public place, thought Val automatically) and an intricate golden belt with a tiny dagger attached to it. The woman drifted among the tables, swaying her hips and letting her mane of rich red-gold hair sway in tune. She finally chose a table not far from Val and sat down, stretching her delicious long legs before her. Her huge green eyes, bold and impudent, turned to Val and slowly traveled all along Val's body from his head to the tips of his cartefully polished stylish boots. Val felt himself to be assessed and apprized and somehow found wanting. Val blushed, but still watched transfixed. The woman stretched lazily, like a big predatory cat, and licked her lips with the tip of her rosy tongue. She was so beautiful, so unusual! Val was used to willowy beauty of Elven ladies and pure-blood Numenorean maids. The woman sitting before him now was exotic and thrilling and darkly attractive in a way unknown to the young King.

[Earniel]

Deep within the marches of Nîn-In-Eilph, amid the pools where swans drift majestically, stands a little village of pile-dwellings. Here the Reed-Elves dwell, there aren't many of them and they never did anything noteworthy; they certainly took great pains to keep to themselves. So history kindly forgot all about them. It happens, you know.

The Reed-Elves are a rag-tag sort of Elves, having decendants among them of almost every Elven-race and culture that somehow all ended up, like driftwood, in Nîn-In-Eilph. Their lady is, surprisingly, a Sea-Elf, named Eärniel. She wouldn't have been here if not for some unfortunate curse of seasickness, but that's another story entirely and not one she likes to hear being told. Right now she is going over some grievances of her people relating to the University in Tharbad and trying to write a complaint-letter to the University Council.

Normally the university never gave the Reed-Elves any trouble but of late there was a student wandering about their swamps. Nardol and Caladan had been complaining in particular, since the student nearly had caught them swimming. They said they had to hold their breath for quite some time before he went away and they were able to get to their clothes. Clothes? Eärniel raised an eyebrow.

She brushed with the end of her feather-pen against her lips as she was trying to think of a good start for the complaint-letter. Instead she wrote half-absentmindedly 'TO DO: find out where the men go skinny dipping!'

But the snag, she considered, was that this was not just any student, it was said to be King Valandil no less. So shooting a warning arrow in his butt and kindly inform him the next arrow would be a tad higher if he ever showed his face in Nîn-In-Eilph again, was a big nono. The next thing they might see were the entire armies of Arnor laying siege to her marches. No, that was completely out of the question. Pity, really, a strategically placed arrow had proven a very effective means to keep the peace in her marches in earlier times.

Eärniel glanced again at her letter, now adorned with the mention of skinny dipping, and decided this was perhaps not the right way to solve the problem. No, she would have to go there herself and sort things out once and for all. And she might be able to learn something useful while she was at it. She leafed through the University brochure. 'Advanced Ecology of Swamps and Marches' sounded promissing, so did 'Swan speach I'. And she might be able to take up basket-weaving for extra credit...

Her mind made up, she went to pack her things and make sure the Reed-Elves behaved in her absence. Within a day she would be in Tharbad and she'd better go prepared.

[Valandil]

The sound of the horse's hooves echoed in the otherwise quiet street. Valandil, covered with a deep blue cloak and riding a black horse, had made his escape. A small coin to the porter with a motion to keep quiet about the episode was all it took to get out the front gate, and now he was out into the city - and the moon had not yet risen. And he was alone... no chancellor, no tutor, no Marty or Ray.

He recalled the stunning redhead from that afternoon. Once she showed up at The Red Herring his 'friends' had just about physically removed him, but he had been able to pause for just a moment and give her a nod of acknowledgement. Why were they always so worried about keeping him out of trouble? He had never really gotten in trouble anyway... not REALLY!

He came to the first crossroads and paused. A right turn would take him toward campus proper - and maybe a frat party. But he really had no desire for that. Still... SHE might be there. But, he sighed - his greater curiosity bore him several more streets south, and the left - toward the bridge.

The bridge of Tharbad was long and low. Above it the river rushed more swiftly, broken here and there by rocks, although it was navigable by hardy boatmen who brought good on up the river. Just below the bridge was a spillway of a ranga or two (about 1 to 2 meters), and beyond that, the Greyflood was a whole different river. It was wider and deeper and slower - so that ships could travel up it from the sea. There were all the piers and wharves - the waterfront which brought shipping commerce to Arnor. The city there was low, but much larger, and behind the levees, canals and streets both criss-crossed the more densely populated quarters of the city, a maze to any newly-arrived, as he was.

The guards of Arnor who manned the west gate of the bridge recognized him and let him pass without a word. He made his way slowly across, the horses clip-clopping against the sound of water pouring over the spillway almost beneath him. At the west gate, the guards were not so quiet about it, but it didn't matter any longer. These guards were from Gondor, and they maintained an outpost here. Valandil had begun to think that presumptuous, as they held no real sway in the lands from here to the Isen, but his cousin Meneldil ever seemed an ambitious one. And the guards always seemed a bit sarcastic when they called him, "Oh great High King" - smirking and winking to themselves. He would have to speak to Meneldil about them.

On he went, north east now through the smaller section of East Tharbad, which already slept. The moon crested over the horizon as he reached the outskirts of town - just a short way to the lands of Nin-in-Eilph.

He rode slowly at last through the trees, brush and marshes of his destination, eyes searching about for any sign of what he sought. It was some time later, and deep into the woods there, that he thought he saw a figure in the distance - glimmering, silverlike, and seeming to dance through the distant trees. He dug his heels into his horse's flanks to find out what he saw.

Before his horse had made even a furlong in this manner, its foot struck a tree-root and down they fell - horse and man, separating and rolling on the ground. Valandil tried to get up, but his ankle seemed to be twisted. He was able to examine the horse, who was really none the worse for it, but then he held onto the reins and let the horse drag him over beside a tree, against which he leaned his back to rest, so that his ankle could mend.

"That was foolish!" he said to himself, staring absently at the deep dark pool of water beside him. "To go galloping through a dark marshy wood under the light of a fading moon." Then he wondered if he would have to spend the night here - and also if anyone might come along and find him...

But he was tired, so he yawned, stretched out his arms then closed his eyes and tried to catch a little sleep.

[CrazySquirrel]

Lilly stormed through the busy Tharbad streets hissing in frustration. She was not used to the prey getting away from her. Such an affront and from a suckling baby as this "King"?!... There was something wrong with this one. Or was it with herself? Lilly was used to rely on her charms and sex-appeal, perhaps years have at last taken their toll on her?

She soon reached a magnificent old palace, situated in one of the most respectable districts of Tharbad, that she and Five bought three weeks ago. Five would have preferred something simpler and closer to the pubs of the riverside, his favorite haunt, but Lily had been adamant. She loved lofty places. Money was no problem, so Five bought the palace for her.

Slamming the heavy carven doors behind her, Lilly rushed upstairs, where master bedrooms and her boudoir were situated. Knocking over a delicate little console, Lilly rushed to a mirror and peered into it. But, as usual, the mirror remained empty of her presence, revealing only a whiff of dark mist, obscuring a part of the reflected room. Lilly swore viciously. Gripping a golden pot of rouge, she smashed it into the centre of the mirror and swore again, uttering a long and intricately woven curse in the Black Speech. Lilly's skill in swearing caused many an orc to turn green from envy, back when she was in charge of the Sixth Level of Barad-Dur.

A merry laughter from the corner interrupted her ravings. Lilly turned her head, but saw only a glass of wine suspended over a comfortable armchair.
Giving her Ring a mental order to switch her into the Spirit World mode, Lilly beheld Lord Buzukkumarz from Rhun, called simply "Five", as no tongue, either living or undead, could utter his name without breaking in the process.

"Five, you damned horse-boy!" cried Lilly. "What were you thinking when you laced my corselet this morning? You thought it was a saddle strap or what? I am virtually unable to breath!"

"You don't really need to breath, Lil, and you know it full well," replied Five good-naturedly. Drawing a Morgul knife from his sleeve, he turned Lilly around and cut the tight corselet strings. Lilly breathed fully for the first time since the late morning. It has somehow improved her mood.
Turning to face Five, she asked, fluttering her long golden lashes, "Five, tell me honestly, how do I look?"
Five's eyes suddenly blazed, and he replied in a husky voice, "You look SO sweet, Lil, anyone would wish to swallow you whole!"

Lily melted and arranged her red lips in a pretty pout for Five to kiss.

[Valandil]

As Lily waited, an unexpected sound came into her ears. Whistling! Not someone whistling at her (a common enough sound, and never unexpected at all) - but the absent-minded sort of whistling that some folks make as they walk along the street.

Lily leaped to the window and peered down into the street below. She saw two fairly young men walking along, laughing, talking, joking and ... whistling.

She recognized them right away of course... two of the companions of that King Valandil from the Red Herring... what were they calling each other... 'Marty' and 'Ray'...???

Hmmmm... friends of the king...

[Butterbeer]

Beautiful Boomerang paused for thought. The moon washed him with it's hazy silver beams.

It was always a pleasure to rest on a reed by the beautiful tranquil pools and to listen to the chattering of the dragon-flies, to breath in the fresh night air and watch the dark ebony rippling pools morphing reflections of reality so gently.

Boomerang was deep in thought: the tidings of the swans and the rumours of the air were disturbing indeed.

Never before had the Butterflies been interested in the doings of those that go on two legs. Except of course for the mysterious one, maybe, and then only rarely. Old Bombadil of course was well respected and was a good friend to beast and Butterfly ... but it was many a metamorphosis year since any of the Butterflies had sought his counsel.

Legends in the Annals of Flight said that once there was friendship with the Ents in days when the forests were larger ... and certainly round these parts the elves manage the woods and pools and reed-pools well for his kind.

But beautiful Boomerang, now Wing leader to his folk was concerned....

It had been many years since he had been sat on by a rude Southern Gondorian soldier ... whilst he prayed to Airiel in the sacred Spirit grounds...

he had been suprised indeed to come back as an undead Butterfly, even more suprised since Sauron's fall to find he could take physical form again... though not perhaps as suprised as the Soldier who was subsequently bitten by mosquitos at every opportunity for the rest of his life.

Boomerang laughed at the recollection ... just then noticing a human form some way off through the reeds ...

[CrazySquirrel]

All thoughts of spending the next couple hours in the master bedroom abruptly left Lilly's and Five's minds. Business was first.
Throwing away the ruined corselet, Lil re-arranged her dress as best she could. Five put on a dark cloak with a hood. Silent and invisible to all eyes in the World of Light they rushed into the street and followed King's friends.

Rey and Marty were heading unwaveringly into the dirtiest part of the city, near the riverside docs. Laughing and whistling and talking nonsense they entered the Rotten Cod tavern, notorious for its bad reputation.

Stepping in a shade around the corner, Lily turned her visible charming self and entered the tavern after the two friends. Five, still invisible, quietly followed.

[Earniel]

Eärniel steered her raft through the canals and pools of Nîn-In-Eilph. She had her bags packed, things sorted out back at the Reed-Elves' village for her absense, she had managed to get a map with the way by river to the University and...
"Will you please get out of my way?" she snapped at the swan that was swimming before her raft for the last few minutes. "I don't want to run you over but by Uinen's foam-veils, I will if you don't move your feathered butt out of the way!"

The offending swan did no such thing. Instead it kept giving her meaningful glances and kept nodding with his head to the right.

Eärniel paused. Either this swan had a dead wish or he really wanted to show her something. She glanced around furtively and then quacked. It wasn't perfect but at least understandable. The swan gave her an encouraging, yet pitying smile. Eärniel steamed inwardly for being looked at that way by something that was at least 3 steps below her on the evolutionary ladder. Tssk, no swan would even have been intelligent if the Valar didn't think them to be such cutiewootsie libble birdies.

The swan responded and nodded again with his head to the right. Someone's in trouble? It couldn't be any of her Elves. So who could that be, Eärniel wondered, as she steered her raft in the side-canal the swan had indicated. In the mist she could see the outline of a great horse a little ahead. I might have know, she thought sourly.

"You are far from your palaces and courts, Son of Isildur!" She called. "And far from Tharbad where, methinks, you ought to have stayed tonight." She added as afterthought.

[Butterbeer]

Boomerang had no more time to ponder the mysterious figure seen through the reeds, he heard the soft splash and rustles of a boat moving through the pools and thrusting through the vegetation ...

"waaaa?" said someone in oddly phrased Swan.

Boomerang was intrigued ...

"You are far from your palaces and courts, Son of Isildur!" came the clear voice of an Elf.

"And far from Tharbad where, methinks, you ought to have stayed tonight."


Alighting softly Beautiful Boomerang fluttered high above the pools suddenly very interested indeed...

"Son of Isildur" eh? ... thought the Wing leader.... alone in the Elven pools... and the Nazgul gathering from afar: he had sensed they had answered his wraith call and had felt their presence growing stronger in the North these last few days.

It mattered not to Boomerang that their agenda was different from his or his people's: there was a certain union of the undead, and if nothing else the Butterflies were nothing if not in union together and with others of the insect and natural world .. sometimes he wished his wings were not so democratic in their ways ... brother butterfly 'purple heart' was a militant old soul for sure ... a stickler for the cocoon-like teachings found in the the 'ways of Air and earth' but that was neither here nor there just now thought Boomerang ... but he was a butterfly first and from what he had heard in the Red herring INN recently ... he was most interested to see this youngish King for himself .... from a distance!

[Butterbeer]

Marty and Ray fought their way through the crowded Rotten Cod tavern through the heavy atmosphere of smoke and the inimitable scents of ale and the Rotten Cod's house special: raw pilchards and onion drenched in garlic and cod liver oil dressing - towards the low hung highly unpolished heavily pitted beer-stained oak bar.

Marty, a tall muscular Dunedain with one eye and and a penchant for singing while he brawled (another unusual trait for a minder was his notoriously short temper and his fondness of wine, women and song...) looked around ... mmm some sort of nautical place this he thought... best try and blend in....

Ray, his close friend was somewhat shorter but stocky and agile: Ray was a good friend in need and a highly skilled warrior, ray was also the less mentally agile of the pair ... he looked around at the assembled denziens of this Dockside bar ... an unruly bunch of cut-throats, thieves, farmers and locals ... with his sharper eyes he noticed the sign above the bar: "No sailors, fishermen or Pirates"

Marty was in a fine mood and up for a fun night in tharbad: he wanted to get to know some of the people and get a feel for the city .... he was hell bent on winning some new friends and knowing some 'eyes on the street' ...

Marty pushed his way to the bar and with a winning smile and his one eye popping out:

"Aha! shiver me timbers, up the old sea dog and down with the land-lubbers' eh me hearties?" he beamed doing a little sea-shanty jig and smiling....

[Valandil]

Valandil slept a sleep troubled by dreams - but they were joyous dreams, for in them, the fair Elf maiden of Nin-in-Eilph came to him, as if in a beautiful vision. They had not spoken in his dream, but she had leaned over him, closer... closer... until their faces almost touched. Then he had heard a faint sound, as if in the distance but growing louder. Incongruous as it might seem, it sounded like QUACKING! At these sounds the Elf maiden turned, and then as Valandil struggled into wakefulness, she faded and the sounds became more distinct... it WAS quacking - or something that sounded a lot like it.

He was still drousy when it ceased, and thought that perhaps his senses had been playing tricks on him, when out on the pond, up came a small craft, manned - well, hardly the correct term in this case - only by a wonderful apparation of an Elf - a female Elf. He had to pinch himself to try to assure himself that he was not still dreaming, for even the moonlight filtering through the trees showed her to be lovely beyond even the vision of his dreams - beyond even the legends about her.

And this one spoke to him:

"You are far from your palaces and courts, Son of Isildur!" She called. "And far from Tharbad where, methinks, you ought to have stayed tonight."

He tried to compose himself as best he could, given the circumstances of just waking up, lying against a tree trunk with a twisted ankle, and having just beheld perhaps the most beautiful thing in all creation, and to uncloud his mind from sleep and gather himself for the best response.

"If you mean that I am outside the bounds of my rightful kingdom, I know it well. Yet this land borders on my own, and neighbors should be friends, should they not? I seek the Fair Lady of this land, that I may meet her and speak with her, for the desire to do so has long been upon my heart."

"And if I must depart speedily from this land, it will be in sorrow - and yet with a contrite heart if my coming here has been undesired. Yet... departing swiftly may not now be so easy - for I rode my horse too hard in the dim light of this moon, he tripped on a root and I have injured myself in the fall. Therefore I have taken rest under the branches of this tree that my ankle may be rested and mended."

"But I would speak the the Lady of this land, if that is permitted. Do you know how she might be found, and if she would deign to see one such as I?"

He swallowed hard to keep from continuing his question with, "...and is she as beautiful as thou art?" thinking it best to keep all that his heart would gladly spill within himself for a bit longer. But he wondered if she perceived it nonetheless.

[Earniel]

Eärniel cursed inwardly but her face didn't betray any of it. She wished she had kept her hood on, even though it obscured her vision somewhat when steering her raft. The king's words were fair and friendly but the last thing she needed now was the High King of Annúminas making puppy eyes at her. (A little persistant thought in the back of her head stated he was still unmarried.) But no, Galadriel would never let her live it down if she heard about it.

"The Reed-Elves of Nîn-In-Eilph have withdrawn themselves from the world's cares and courts. This is an age of Men, not of Elves." Eärniel responded as she brought her raft near the riverbank. "The Elves here have little wish of being sought out, our lady included. Although she might have made an exception for the King of the Northern Kingdom, had she known he desired to speak with her."

"You also have chosen your time to visit poorly, as you would not find the Lady of Nîn-In-Eilph in her house, should you by chance have stumbled by it tonight. She has left the swamps on business of her own."

Eärniel's initial displeasure slowly faded into slight amusement. A little of it crept in her voice. It wasn't often one came across the most powerful man in Arnor in such an unusual and precarious postion.

But," she continued as she jumped lightly ashore. "You may not have run entirely out of luck tonight. For had I not chanced to pass this way tonight you may have sat there until your beard had grown longer than that tree's roots. Would you like me to have a look at that ankle, my lord?"

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

A rider on a dark horse watched as a fair elven maiden jumped ashore to try and heal the ankle of a Man. One who she called 'The Son of Isildur'. This greatly interested the Rider as he rode closer, yet stayed out of eyesight of the two. He watched as the elf leaned over the man for a few minutes before lifting her head, as he stood up.

[CrazySquirrel]

Lilly picked her way between the drunk and smelly customers of the Rotten Cod Inn. She adapted her most innocent and slightly frightened look, but couldn't prevent her hips from moving in the most engaging fashion and her ample bosom from heaving, could she?
Naturally, all the eyes in the Inn soon riveted to her. Many a whistle sounded, and lewd remarks were exchanged. Lilly's progress towards the counter was interrupted abruptly when a big, sweaty and drunk giant of a sailor grabbed her around the waist. "Now, what have we here, boys? By Eru, that is the fanciest piece I have seen in my life!"
Lilly twisted her sensitive nose at the putrid breath, and fought the urge to react in her usual way, by kicking the offender into the most vital spot, causing permanent damage. Instead, she gave a frightened squeak and fought back weakly in the most helpless and womanly fashion.
"How fortunate, my orcs can't see me now," thought Lil, "they would have spilled their guts laughing at me..."
Raising her beautiful voice, she cried for help again, trying to sound desperate.

[Butterbeer]

The barman and many of those around Marty did a quick double take ... he didn't look like a sailor ... or a pirate ... not even like a fisherman?

The momentary confused silence was broken by the sound of a gir'ls squeak ....

Flashing another quick suspicious glance at Marty the landlord whipped around suddenly and noticed both the Sailor and the Girl .... he noticed the Girl several times in fact... before rapping his ample Knuckles loudly on the "No sailors, fishermen or Pirates" sign, ... he pointed an arm at the Sailor... still speechless ...

[Lotesse]

"Oi! Brucias! Get us another round, will ya?!"

A motley crew of professional bar-spongers at the corner table were eager for more free drinks, courtesy of the cross-eyed sailor in question, and eager to impress both them and the beauty, Brucius nodded their way and squished Lilly even tighter against his stinky side.Marty and Ray, observing all this with growing righteous indignation, were exchanging glances that meant they wanted to step in and rescue Lilly together - but they hesitated a fraction of a second too long.

At this point, the barman had decided it was about time to pull rank on the little situation before things started getting out of control. Right as he was about to ask the generous sailor to pay his huge tab and beat it, an unseen force imperceptively whooshed her stealthy way into Brucius's pockets, and deftly stole every penny, paper, and valuable he had on him. When the barman asked for the tab, and the obnoxious lush could not find his money, his pawing of the redheaded bombshell ceased at once while the poor man frantically began pawing himself, trying to find his stuff.

Someone had altered the balance of the situation in aid and defense of Lilly, but it hadn't been some valiant man or obvious poser. It had been the sisterly, slick assistance of a then invisible Viniglaen, but as yet no one could know this except Five, and later Lilly herself.

[CrazySquirrel]

Lilly felt the situation getting out of control.

Being in the World-of-Light mode, she failed to recognise the invisible Viv, who, for all Lilly knew, was thousand of leagues away. Lilly wrongly assumed all this to be one of Five's silly pranks, that he adored so much. Making a mental note to kill him afterwards, Lilly made the only thing possible to save the day (or the night): she fainted slowly and theatrically. Lying on the dirty floor, she observed Rey and Marty through her long golden lashes.

The invisible Five, for his part, saw Viv clearly. Quickly overcoming his surprize, as a true Nazgul should, he grabbed Vivvie and carried her outside for a talk.