Barad Eithel -- Outer Courtyard
High walls and lofty towers cast their long shadows down into the courtyard
below. Troops often train here, learning the skills which will protect them
against an implaccable foe always more numerous than they. At times, the whole
of the fortress gathers here to hear the words of their commanders or of the
High King himself...or to muster for battle.
Ringing the courtyard are the grainaries, armouries, smithies, stables, and
other buildings which support and provide for the fortress in peace and in war.
Xoria
The figure standing before you pulls back her cloak and you find yourself
staring into the determined face of a beautiful teenage girl of ardent moral
finesness. Her face is as usual glowing and seems to look around her with an
ammused expresion. She is a somewhat slight girl with startling green eyes, and
mediumn length flaming red hair which as usual hangs over her back in a loose
pony tail. Xoria stands with an open long black robe on, under which the tunic
of a Dor-Lomin solider can be easily made out, even if the insignia of the
Doraith Wardens and that off her rank a Dorenhir in the Wardens. You look into
the womans face and notice a searching look in her green eyes, you study her
face and notice that her nose just misses being too small, a generous mouth,
high cheek bones you also notice the slightly tilted eyes. breathing in you
notice that a soft, fresh berbal scent arises from her. Also hanging from
Xoria's ears are a pair of beautiful emerald earings that when the light hits
them it refracts off in all different paths sending beams of greenish light
cascading every where around her.
Her many weapons that are at least visible are a long sword that rests against
her back, the belt can be seen thought the open robe and a golden rose pendant
is attatched to the belt occasionally Xoria, when she stands alone, her hand
will drift to it and touch it and a soft smile will touch her lips as she
remembers the story behind it. Also over her shoulder is a bow and it's quiver
at her side so she can easily draw arrows, and her newest weapon an axe hangs
from her old sword belt a sort of present for her current service with the
Dor-Lomin people, it was crafted by one of Lord Telchar kind, the masters of
the axe and such weapons.
Alquawen
Your eyes behold, a sinda maiden, willowy , tall, seemingly touched by light.My
name is Alquawen Aiwendil, she would often say, in a voice that flows from her
lips in a gentle cadence. Her unbound hair falls to her back,shining rivulets
of light caught in golden tendrils, they creep downwards like shimering mist.
Ever bright eyes, frought with both sorrows and laughter gaze outwardly, from a
face that is carved of sensitivity, flickering orbs which betray her every
emotion. These eyes have seen many sorrows , much more than it should for the
healess walks with the suffering , through the shadows of pain, offering relief
where she can. Yet, there lingers always the sad ,silvery smile on her
lips....as if she would challenge sorrow and sadness, pain and suffering , and
remove it if she could. Simple white robes adorn her slender form flowing to
her ankles. A swan sits upon her breast, traced in silver its head bowed under
a snowy wing ,the emerald in its eye matching the green in hers.
Alquawen smiles, quietly letting the little creature slip from her grasp, its
tiny paws making little imprints on the snow dusted ground. "Mew?" a plaintive,
noise, as it tunrs its, bright gaze to Xoria and the bowl of stew she offers.
Derelin comes walking around one of the tents, staff in his right hand. He
moves softly, avoiding men and elves alike. His grey eyes searching every face
but move away quickly. Suddenly he sees the kittens and stops. Hands resting on
the staff, Derelin watches the little animal and the people gathering around
the fire. A faint smile crosses his unshaved face.
Xoria sighs and looks at Alquawen "I can face a charging yrch army and I've
faced a Guar in combat, but the sight of this pitiful kitten" she sighs
speechless as she crouches down in the snow and offers the wood bowl of stew to
the kitten, stands back up "this is going to wreck my image of cold
heartedness" she says her eyes still on the kitten.
Half tumbling over its paws, in its haste to get to the bowl, the kitten
stumbles, in the snow, a soft mew escaping its lips, before it slowly gets to
its feet, giving a slight shake of the head, sending a flurry of wet, snow..in
all directions at the elleths' feet. Eager eyes, hone in on the bowl and
contents as a pink tongue flickers out and it begins lapping up the broth, the
liquid, splattering its whiskers and nose as it drink. Alquawen, nods, casting
a sympathic gaze to the other, though some measure of amusement, passes before
her eyes, seen in the slight smile on her lips as she fingers, the little
animal's back gently, stroking it, all the while,
Derelin nods, "These are dire times to be without friends and relatives. Has
the kitten no mother to care for it?" He approaches the fire and crouches down
to take a better look. He looks at Xoria and continues, "Sometimes it is
necessary to carry beauty within your heart in order to endure hardship." His
eyes turn back on the kitten eagerly slurping away the warm broth. He mumbles,
"So tiny..."
Xoria smiles a touch sadly "I'd love to have a cat of my own, but at the
moment, I'm rarely in the same place for more than a few months, and cats are
territorial they want a home, I'm never home" she says sadly then watches as
one of the Dor-Lomin people joins the duo, "truer words, Mellon, truer words"
she says to him.
Derelin looks at the kitten finishing the rest of the broth. Finally he pulls
the cloak closer around his shoulders and starts rummaging through his bag. He
pulls out something a black leathery thing, as big as coal. He looks at it for
a second, puts a corner of it into his mouth and starts chewing. It must be
hard as leather. After a while he manages to bite off a little piece of it and
presents it to the kitten. However, after a short sniff the kitten turns away
and starts to mew plaintively.
Alquawen nods, gazing at the other..."still cats do roam, sometimes...yet
perhaps when you are setlled you will have one of your own, mellon. "she says,
quietly, "yet...this one needs a home...I have been looking for ..someone to
take care of it.." She shakes her head and sighs..."the mother was
found..stiff, and cold..outside of the halls just two morns ago."
Derelin shrugs, "The kitten doesn't like dog food." He weighs the piece of meat
absentmindedly and adds at last, "I miss my dog and my flock. But there is no
better place than home. To return to hearth and fire is my hearts -- desire."
He chuckles.
Xoria hrms softly and looks down at the kitten and sighs "I'd love to take it"
she says finally after a long pause she bend down again and rubs the head of
the kitten which starts ti purr softly "I could take it if your wanting to be
rid of it, I might start getting thoughts of settling down, for a while anyway"
Alquawen smiles, her gaze lingering long on the lady's countenance, and nodding
her head..she adds. "If it is your wish...that he is well cared for and
loved.." she lowers her gaze and then clears her throat.."animals want what
every living being wishes for..all the same..." She gives, the kitten a pat on
the head, tickling behind the ears with her fingers.."you may have it Lady
Xoria..it will be good ..perhaps you may teach it to hunt?"
Derelin grins, "You never know..." Looking at Xoria again he adds, "Somehow you
don't look as if you'd settle for a peacefull life for long, though. What will
you do with the cat after a year? And after two years? When your hands start to
itch again for the hunt? When feet long again for the road?"
Xoria smiles greatfully at Alquawen "hunting, why I'll teach her to hunt yrch
and eat them for breakfast" Xoria says boating slightly as she picks up the
tiny kitten "now a place where I can put you safely hmmm?" she says talking to
the kitten, then she smiles and lifting the kitten she puts the thing in the
large hood that hangs down her back. "When that doe happen, I'll ask the kitten
what she wants to do, if she wants to come then she can, if not she can stay
with my brother"
A soft laugh falls from Alquawen's lips at Xoria's words.."I'm sure you will
ensure, that he is well cared for..."she adds, assuringly, looking to Derelin
thoughtfully. "Cats, enjoy hunting...also, it is in inherent in their
nature..instinctive.." she muses, quietly.
Derelin chuckles, "Well said, stranger! I hope you will enjoy long years of
peace and happiness. And maybe your cat will grow large and strong." He gets up
slowly, sighing. I'll have to get back home, soon. I don't know about cats
hunting, but wolves and dark shadows in the night are all I care about. And
even if cats hunt for wolves, wolves will continue hunting sheep. Dogs, on the
other hand, will defend the sheep." He pauses and grins, "I see that the kitten
is confusing me."
Alquawen smiles , dipping her head to the adan, her eyes flickering. "It was,
good..to have met with you both..yet , I fear...there are a few matters, that
require my attention...I know the kitten shall be well cared for....Lady, I
will speak with you, and perhaps steal a glimpse of the little one..if our
paths cross, in the future. A good eve to you both, namarie,,,mellyn. " She
adds, politely rising to her feet, leaving both kitten and basket with the
lady.
Alquawen has left.
Xoria smiles and nods her head "of course, always well cared for, was the
kitten named?" Xoria asks curiously "Or do I get to name it?" she continues
then smiling faintly she looks at Derelin "Yes, cats, dogs and wolves are all
very different, and should never be house together, there lies madness" she
says with a light little laugh then nods her head to Alquawen "take care lass
and a very large thank you for the beautiful pet"
A figure emerges from the camp of the men of Dor-lomin. the figure stoops and
leans heavily apon a staff, nay a spear. A dark green coat hangs past his knees
and woolen hose and thick leather bound feet plodge over the cold and in places
snow covered flags. A woolen scarf wraps over the mouth of the man but a beard
of dark blonde peeps out beneath it, and his blonde heair falls about his
shoulder. The gait of the fellow is steady, but pained and certainly seems to
take some effort. The green eyes of the marachian scan the crowds afore him and
he approaches a small group, seeking out faces.
Baradil
He stands taller than most men of Dor-Lomin and is long limbed, he has wide set
shoulders and a muscular frame. He has large worn hands with many small scars
from cuts and grazes.
He is 19 years of age though he looks much older, apparently he had a hard
life. His long golden hair hangs about his shoulders and he has a long beard
which is a darker than his hair. His face is fair though it has been scorched
by the sun and his skin is a rich brown colour. His eyes are deep green with
flecks of brown in them, they are keen, but hold a depth which is not at once
fathomable.
There is a relaxed air about Baradil, he seems very capable. There is feeling
of power of mind and spirit that surronds him, irrespective of his large frame.
Baradil is dressed ready for battle, a long grey tunic that hangs past his
knees he wears his leather armour over and around his waist a thick leather
belt is girt. He has thick leather tied around his feet in the fashion of
boots, these go almost to his knees. Around his shoulder a heavy hooded green
cloak hangs. He has a series of packs and bundles fastened at his sides. He
carries a longbow and a full quiver of arrows at his back, but he has a thick
wooden spear in his hand that stands almost as tall as himself.
His clothes are far from rich, in fact they are ragged, ripped, worn and travel
stained. He has no trinkets accept for a thin silver chain about his neck,
which has a beautiful green stone set in it and on his right hand he wears a
plain golden ring.
Derelin's eyes follow the sinda maiden as she leaves. He says softly, "Aye,
'tis necessary to carry beauty within your heart..." He turns back to the woman
and chuckles as he sees the kitten struggling for a look around from within the
large hood it was dumped it just a few moments ago. "Maybe you should call it
Snowflock or something, to remember the cold day of her mother's death, and to
hint at beauty hidden in simple things..." he muses.
Nadiniel enters by the Outer Gates to the south.
Nadiniel has arrived.
Nadiniel
Nadiniel is a young elf-maid, hardly out of childhood. She is slender but not
yet tall, and her golden hair surrounds her clean and soft lines, and falls
almost down to her waiste. The face is being dominted by two deep green eyes
that seams to swallow it's surroundings.
She is dressed with light greenish clothes all over, all clothes having the
same tone. The clothes is lossely fit to the body and seams to be at least one
size too big. Tightening the dress around her waiste, a small belt, crowned
with a golden buckle in the shape of a silver leaf.
Xoria shakes her head smiling faintly "no, not that, I was thinking more like
Snow Rose. I found her in the snow and she reminds me of a rose, beautiful,
fragile, but with thorns or in this case claws" she says reaching over and
stroking the kitten's head
Gundor. emerges from the bustling travel party. . .
Gundor. has arrived.
Derelin grins, "Maybe it is a fitting name for an animal raised within the
bounds of walls and in the care of men or elves. Roses are independent and
fickle, like cats, and yet, they need the tender hand of gardener to grow."
Gundor
Golden hair falls, long and fair, by daylight or moon light it shines
brilliantly. It tumbles about a mans face, firm and stong as that of a man bold
and grim, yet with music in it and elven fairness. Deep blue eyes almond in
shape gaze out, shadowy they are, letting nought out, but taking all in. A
stong jawline is at the base of this mans face, solid and unyielding as
granite, the face is free from bristles, keeping the clean and fair lines of
the mans face. This noble head sits apon broad shouders and a young mans frame,
mighty in stature, indeed this man stands very high, yet not the highest of his
folk.
The garb of this man is fair, shining mail of silver, in its centre the emblem
of the House of Hador a silver swan sits in a brilliant blue oval, many small
blue and white stones stiched onto the mail form this symbol. The mail hangs
low to his knees. Beneath it and hanging just below it is a tunic of dark blue,
the material is simple and without ornamention, but the fabric is of very fine
quality. apon the feet the man wears dark brown lether boots, they are of
superb quality and are well polished too, though they seem to have been well
used. Over all a thick cloak covers all, its deep dark blue near plain except
for silver thread which trims the cloak at the edge with details of flowers and
branches, simple but elegant in effect, but again the thick cloth is weft of
special threads for it glimmers in light, making the simple cloak seem far more
than plain.
At this mans waist a thick bealt of sturdy leather and fine crafting is girt,
it has attached to it a scabbard of high art, many fair metals are wrought
about this and Elven scripting ornaments its side, this is the sword of Lord
Hador's younger son, Gundor and this is whom you look apon.
The scout approaches Xoria, his face recognizes the Quende and he smiles in
greeting to her, no more though, for perhaps she does not know him. With a few
more stuttering strides he stand near the pair now, "Good day to you friends,
how are you this cold day?" He looks to the stranger and smiles, "My name is
Baradil good sir I am a man of Dor-lominer, where do you hale from?" The
question is both kindly and inquisative, the face of the young man bares a warm
smile still and he bows forward to both leaning on his staff.
From one of the stables, a young lass arrives to the courtyard. She smells
strongly of horses she has just stroked and she looks tired, but happy. She
sees the people gathered and curiously draws near them to see what is
happening. [Nadiniel]
Xoria laughs "well I'm not much of a gardener, I just hope the poor little
thing will stick around". smiling warmly at Baradil Xoria displays her kitten
"Good morning Baradil, see my new friend, Snow Rose" she says proudly. With her
eyes cast up she notices the woman on the outskirts of the gathering and she
smiles warmly and invitingly to her and makes a head gesture inviting the woman
to join them.
From the same camp as the scout another figure comes, a tall and fair man
walks, amid this place one may be forgiven for counting him an elf. It is
however a man, one of Hador's and infact his younger son. The stride of the
Adan is flowing and long and his broad face bares a nod and a smile for the
folk he passes. The fair garments he wears makes no secret of his station, his
coat of mail is finer than a soldiers and the cloak he wears is well crafted
indeed. He follows the scouts path also and walks towards the group, yet a
Marachian soldier approaches him and the two speak in low tones, standing
somewhat apart from the group standing in the square
Derelin looks at Baradil and searches his face for a second. Then, he nods and
says, "Greetings, Baraldir. I am Derelin of Hadorsford, son of Derendor."
Turning around at the other people approaching, he pulls his blackwood staff
closer and takes a step backwards. He bows at the new man approaching and
mutters without looking up again, "Lord Gundor."
The scout smiles as the Sina maid shows him the pet and he looks at the small
beast with warm eyes. He then looks back at Derelin, "Forgive me Derelin I too
live in Hadorsford, but my home coming has only been recently and I have oft
been away in Hador's service as I am now." He looks to Xoria again, "A lovely
little beastie indeed, you'll need a special saddle bag made to convey her, yet
with no saddle you will be stuck." He chuckles and smiles and at the mention of
Gundor he turns and bows his head, but sees only the back of the prince.
Derelin moves away from the firelight, silently eying the scout and watching
the prince. Suddenly he notices the young lady from the stable and nods at her.
His grey eyes reflect the firelight as he looks into her face.
Nadiniel smiles happily as someone gives her attention and gives Derelin a warm
smile. Suddenly she notices the prince and she bows to him, aware of the fact
that she probably should have done so a long time ago!
Derelin gives her a secretive smile as he notices her discomfort. He says, "So,
you have come to take a look at the little kitten? No need to be shy, I'm sure
it won't bite," and chuckles softly to himself.
The young Lord seems to be finishing his converse with his knight when he hears
his name, he turns and sees a group of folk, several bows and smiles are given
him. Nodding his head he smiles and walks nearer, "Good afternoon friends, how
does it find you all." He looks at one and all offering a smile, each
separately and lastly to the younger Elleth.
Xoria smiles warmly as the woman joins the small group and nods her head to her
"Mae govannen Mellon" she says warmly "I'm Xoria and this is Baradil and
Derelin" she says then turns to face Gundor whom she just nods her head to
"Good morning Lord Gundor" she say quiety smiling faintly.
Derelin nods again, as his name is mentioned. He pulls his cloak around himself
and says, "It finds us very cold, good prince." He winks at the young lady from
the stables as he says it.
Baradil turns to the Elleth and smiles and bows as his name is given by Xoria.
He still leans apon the staff and stays bowing as Gundor approaches. "Good day
M'Lord I am better here than in the snows." He stands upright again and looks
to the group.
Nadiniel nods and moves closer to the group. Upon the question of the Lord she
says, "Mylord, the day is every brighter as Thou are around!" she then
continues. "Don't mind me though, I am just a lass. My name is Nadiniel, and I
am out looking for a job." She looks at the kitten. "Oh it's so CUTE!" she
says. Then she notices Derelins wink and giggles quietly.
The sun slowly disappears below the horizon. Night comes and the first stars
appear...
Derelin says, "Good people, I shall go and find myself an Inn for the night. I
shall have to rise early tomorrow." He bows and says to Xoria, "Again, I wish
you a long and peacefull life with your cat. Maybe she grow to be a strong
hunter."
Gundor. smiles and even a chuckle rises from his throat at the words of the
elleth, he looks to hsi countrymen and smiles, "Less snow but more cold atop
this hill." He looks to Xoria and bows his head with somewhat more depth, "I
take it your are still with our Folk M'Lady. Is all well, are we keeping you in
a fair way?" He smiles and looks about, "Well if we are all so cold would you
like to come to my tent all of you, theres a fire and I could have some ale
brought and Im sure we can find some food for the catling."
Derelin bows again and says, "Another time, perhaps, good prince. But truly, I
cannot stay. Good night to all of ye."
System Clock shows: Sat Jan 27 18:12:24 2001
Beleriand time is:
Nighttime (About 6PM) on Mersday of Winter - December 19, 462
(
geocities.com/kensanata)