Roclindhir rode out to the courtyard, unsure of the journey ahead given all that the damned wizard had said. The man was likely lying, putting both kingdoms at risk, but given the things he had said, it would need to be investigated. He kept his spear in his hand, gripping tightly. He was anxious to get going - this damned wizard was wasting the resources of the kingdom.

Berthold appeared at Minas Tirith gates from the champ his patrol has set outside the walls. He was walking, taking his horse by the harness at his side.

He looked at the small group there. A Gondorian Knight, a couple of dwarves and a little folk of the north (hobbits, did his father call them?). His father told him not to judge them by the size, though, that they were thougher than one can imagine.

He used to tell him stories about fighting along a duarf and an elf in Helm's Deep and along one of the little folk in Pelennor Fields, where King Theoden fell.

"What strange trouppe" he thought to himself. He remembered the stories his father told him about finding King Elesar (then called Aragorn) with a dwarf and an elf too tracking am orc band, and then being joined by little folk. "Dad would say as in old times, when he was young and followed King Eomer to patrol. Are times of trouble ahead like then" he wondered, slightly concerned about it. He still did not understand how King Elesar could trust this warlock, but well, after all he was quite wiser than himself...

He adressed to the assembled group.

"So we're the volunteers?" he asked. "A truly heterogeneous group... I guess not seen since the War of the Ring.

I'm Berthold, from Rohan, by the way" he introduced himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:12, Thu 24 Mar 2022.

Adunaphel rode down from the stables a bit later than the rest, even more toweringly tall on horseback than on foot. Her height called her out clearly as one of the King's people, given the lack of elven ears and the obvious heraldry of Elessar on her armor.

"Times were stranger still, in those days, and dire beyond comprehension," she answered Berthold, having only heard the end of his observation. "But one must never underestimate when Men, Dwarves and Hobbits can accomplish, together or alone. I am Adunaphel, of Arnor."

Admina lifts her pipe in greeting to those around her. "Hello, I am Admina, daughter of Dwalin of...., well of no where at the moment. It is good to meet you all."


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Circling her pony over to where those gathering to leave have struck up a conversation the fit young female hobbit, easily recognized from the brief interrogation of the wizard, withdraws a loosely rolled piece of soft leather from a pouch under the white tree of her robe and unfurnished it over her arm in such a way that the inscription on the inside becomes clearly visible.  About the size of a large human hand it reads Mercury Fleetfoot, Guard of the Citadel, Servant of Gondor in silver embroidered letters.

After panning it around slowly for everyone to read she settles it around her arm in what is obviously a fairly comfortable state where it can be seen by those who know to look for it but isn't quite so intrusive to either see or hold.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:05, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

In reply to Berthold (msg # 6):

Roclindhir rode up to meet the Rohirrim, nodding and offering a warm smile to him. "Hail, and well-met, Berthold," he said with a chuckle. "I am Roclindhîr, though you might know my husband Deorwine, my brothers Mithrion, Arohir, and Northoron, or their respective husbands Fréawulf, Leofmund, and Aethelward."

"One must not forget the elves, even if they are few and far between, Warrior Adunapel. I give you the elves have not always counted themselves among such numbers..." Telric chimed in as he left the hall. His keen ears catching the end of Adunapel's statement.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:13, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

"Hail and well met too, Roclindhir" Berthold answered. "Yes, I know Mithrion. We have patrolled together the Western Fold many times. Has he recovered from the wounds he received against marauding orcs? "

Then he turned to Adunaphel and Telric

"Arnorians and Elves join too?. Be welcome, I’ve only heard good things about your warrior skills. Then it really seems the old alliance is joining again. What a shame onl y the cursed Rings seem to achieve that…"

Berthold turned to Adunaphel

"I heard you fought in the great battle here, along with King Elessar before he was crowned." he said. "If so, do you know the spot where King Theoden fell to the King of Angmar?

If you were kind enough to show me, I'd like to offer him a little prayer at this spot, if I can aford the time..."he asked her. "I'll catch the party after if you leave before I return. I'm sure my horse cat run faster tan those ponnies, so I'm sure I'll be ble to."

"A student of history knows that the elven peoples have done their part in ages past," Adunaphel assured Telric, and bowed her head to him. "It is good to see that some uphold that legacy, especially with how few remain in Middle-Earth."

The towering Dunedain did not ignore the coming of the dwarf and the halfling, and offered both a bowed head as well. "Well met to you as well, Admina, and Citadel Guard Lightfoot. Would it be wrong to assume that..." Rather than complete the thought, Adunaphel silently touched her hand to her lips whilst looking at Mercury.

Berthold's question caught her a bit by surprise, and had the warrior stroking her chin softly. "I... cannot be sure. But I believe I may know, yes. The Lord of the Nine and his fell mount were slain near Theoden-King's final stand, I believe their passing may have marked the spot quite permanently. I would gladly help you to find it so you may pay respects."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:30, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

At the head of a small detachment of riders, Herubrand arrived from outside the tall gates. Looking about the assembled heroes, his eyes settled on his kinsmen as he dismounted his sturdy mare.

"Nothing untoward on the main road this morning," he mentioned almost in passing, "A caravan of traveling merchants and the usual herders rousing their livestock to get them off to grazeland. I hope we shall have an uneventful journey."

In reply to Berthold (msg # 12):

Roclindhîr nodded at the young Rohirrim, offering a wave to the other Rohirrim returning from patrol. "Aye, he's doing well in recovery. Luckily, the wounds didn't seem that bad - he even said as much the last time I had visited him. You know that if you or your men need some extra hands when on patrol, my family and I are always glad to help where we can." He turned to face his cousin-in-law and said, "It's good that nothing eventful happened. I also hope the journey is uneventful, though given what we're dealing with, I doubt it will be easy."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

"As uncle Théoden used to say, nothing worth doing is easy." Brand replied with a fraternal embrace. "It will be good to ride with family." he added.

"Has anyone heard of this wizard or his order before? Sadly, I am not very knowledgeable about these kinds of things."

 Sleeping in a city as grand as Minas Tirith was a new experience to Wort.

The pony and cart would be seen to, he knew, but for a moment, it felt like he was on the edge of a great chasm.  He took a deep breath and stepped forward, into a new day.

The small party of warriors was gathered at the gates, and there was Miss Fleetfoot. He approached the group boldly.

Good morning sirs and miss." He wore two satchels and carried a knotty walking stick, that could easily be employed as a club. But he certainly looked the wrong company, surrounded by so many warriors.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Sun 27 Mar 2022.

In reply to Wort Halffield (msg # 18):

Falin gave the hobbit a polite nod.  It would be odd for one from the Lonely Mountain to overlook the value of a hobbit in any endeavor.

As the group slowly grew, filling the courtyard, Falin could see the signs of nervousness and excitement among them.  A few were calm; Falin knew the reputation of the Dunedain, and the elf seemed to have travelled before, but he would be surprised if most of the Men had travelled much outside their own borders.

He shrugged, and looking over at Admina, decided to take a leaf from her book.  "Ha!", he chuckled to himself.  "A leaf . . ."  Reaching into his pouch, he took out a pipe of his own, shooing the inquisitive pony away.  The pipe was simple, of carved dark stone, but polished smooth and shining.  He packed it to his satisfaction, and got it going with a scrap of straw and the flame from a sconce. Puffing contentedly, he slipped the pony another apple, and waited for the group to commence their journey.

Berthold looked at Admina and Falin as they took ther pipes. "Dad must have confused those small people, as he said the ones using smoke where the Hobbits" He though. His father had told him about pipeweed, and ow he had tried it once and nearly chocked with the smoke,,,

He turned to Adunaphel.

"Could we go then? I’d like to pay homage to King Theoden where he died heroically. Would it take us much time?" He turned to Roclindhir. "Want to come too?"

(OOC: Assuming Adunaphel answers positively and it will not take too much time)

"We’ll be back soon, or catch  you if you must go before we return" he told to the rest of the group

"I fear you speak a grim truth indeed." Telric nods, although he clearly takes no pleasure in that point.

When Adunaphel makes her statement about the elves, he nods his gratitude to her as well. "More the pity that greater numbers of elves do not remain."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Mon 28 Mar 2022.

A clear trumpet horn sounds and a side gate opens. King Elessar rides forward to greet your company. Alongside him the wizard Silence Mulciber is mounted on a handsome chestnut gelding well suited for travel with strong legs and an easy gait.

The king signals for you to gather close and he leaves Mulciber with his guards so only you are privy to his last-minute requests.

"Master Muliciber and I have spoken long into the night about how he hopes to find that which is missing. he tells me that first, you will journey to Fangorn Forest to seek a key hidden in a fallen Maia's tomb -- once a follower of Morgroth who died in the First Age, shortly after the forging of the rings.

"The key will lead the way and unlock a hidden place in the ancient dwarven delvings in Rhun. It will be a long and perilous journey, and you have my thanks for undertaking it."

A pair of pack mules are led forward, loaded with traveling gear and provisions for the journey.

"These items are the least I can offer and here is a purse of gold coins and a ring bearing my seal to ease your way in far-off lands."

He gives the coins to Roclinde, a knight of his court to carry for all.

"I have made promises to Mulciber if this expedition proves fruitful. He will need you on the road, and in the final efforts to find . . . whatever there may be. But once it is found. He may prove treacherous. He speaks well and with great knowledge, but he has an air of arrogance and pride I do not trust.

"Now ride and take my blessings with you."

It is a clear day cool and crisp with dew glistening on the grass in the Pelennor Fields. Some little distance to the north, a side track leads to the stone obelisk that marks the site where King Theoden fell, with fresh flowers laid before it.

Beyond the road curves around the end of the White Mountains and the Forest of Druadan, then on to Eastfold and Edoras.

OOC: Let's get an order of march. You're in very well patrolled land here. Not much danger of wild encounters -- but you never know. It will take two days of normal riding to get to Edoras with a stop-over at a travelers inn on the outskirts of Firien Woods

I suggest Herubrand and his small detachment take the lead (along with any others who wish to volunteer of course). Riders from the detachment can also ride out on the flanks to provide any early warning.

While smaller the pony Mercury rides is no less quick on its feet than a larger horse except possibly at the kind of full galop nobody actually uses.  She clearly has no interest in competing with the advance scouts however as she puts herself at the front of the core group, keeping in view of the lead element at all times.

In reply to Mercury Fleetfoot (msg # 24):

Fast is good.  Seeing trouble before it strikes is better.  Falin can scout, if we need scouts.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:04, Tue 29 Mar 2022.

After a little prayer beside the obelisk, Berthold returned to the group. Looking at it, he saw Wort's cart, with the two mules beside it, Mercury, Amina and falin riding ponies nd the rest on horses.

"While the area will be patrolled and relatively safe until we leave Rohan, I guess it would be better if those of us in horses make little soutings ahead, just in case. Orc raiders or small groups are rare, but not unheard about" he said, without being able to avoid his gaze moving to Mulciber for a moment.

"I guess those of you who ride ponies should stay with the cart, forming the "main body" so to say, as you'll probably have to dismount if travel arises, and we cannot afford to lose our mounts"

"Well put kinsman," Herubrand agreed. "With fast riders to the front, on our flanks and covering the rear we can provide early warning to the slower moving wagons and ponies."

Whispering to his cousin-in-law he added, "I'd rather ride with a fast detachment and a saddle under me than canter among the donkey carts."

And slowly the company heads north and west, rounding the shoulders of the White Mountains on their road, the better horse riders ranging ahead and to the sides to keep watch, The less equestrianly gifted making up the main body of the group. In your midst, Silence Mulciber rides tall and aloof. He seems perfectly at ease on horseback and manages to unlimber a long, carved pipe with a bowl of stone carved into a leering face and a mouthpiece of amber which he packs with pipeweed and puffs alight, seemingly without any source of flame. The smoke is rich and aromatic. Not a variety that any of you have smelled.



OOC: Can we get a portrait for Wort? Thanks
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:04, Thu 31 Mar 2022.

Admina spent some time staring at the wizard as she sat on the horse which had been given to her. She would have much preferred a seat on a cart, but that was not an option so her she was. With his pipe she watched the strange man.


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