So it begins
Elenbrand lay on the bed of straw looking up at the cracking plaster of the inn as Tyrion leaned over his latest parchment scratching out notes as fast as he could. The tapping of the feather quill on glass vial of ink snapped the former smuggler back to contemplating their situation instead of the similarity between the cracks in the ceiling and the sands of the Harad.
It had been an eventful month since that fateful meeting with Grendel. Their former master had always been excentric with his teaching of magic and passionate about the possibility of bringing ‘the magic of the elves’ or the ‘magic lost to us’ back to Minas Tirith but never in Elenbrand’s short 23 years had he seen the manic look that their former teacher had in his eyes in speaking of his ‘findings’.
With all the mystery of those prior ages and adventure evident even in the 2nd age coins their master gave them for passage “Grendel’s greats” as El had taken to calling their group sarcastically, caught up on old times and things that had happened since they had all met under the crazed magician’s promises of teaching them wonderous magic. To this day it was only Tyrion, the recluse and somewhat macabre friend of theirs that really truly believed that their ‘spells’ really could work. None of them had ever been able to get their magic to work although each was hooked in some way to the arts lure and practiced it’s disciplines despite it’s ineffectiveness.
Elenbrand shook his head…and now they were in Pelargir and although he had ulterior motives in setting up the Dwarven trade route he still couldn’t believe the last couple days events for in meeting with Minister Falastur and confronting him on the ‘letter of introduction’ that he near refused he shook the foundations with the news that Grendel had been stripped of his teaching certification. The minister had been a tough nut to crack to be sure, his avoidance of the problem and hiding in administrivia was common among his type…the former smuggler and freebooter was well aware how to confront these types however. Once open the nut produced the most flavourful information yet telling them of the dedication of the new ship they had seen sitting in the harbour and confirming other tales that they had heard from Arkhad.
Ah Arkhad….his brown skinned friend…El could do nothing but smile when thinking about the crazy boy from the Harad he had met just a few short years before in taking his first class with Grendel. It had nearly come to blows a few times back then and while Elenbrand still called Arkhad “brown boy” it was a show of friendship and loyalty unlike those first few times. After finally understanding the broken westron with Harad accent Muriel, Teerion, and Elenbrand had many a laugh at the “brown boy’s” stories. His exploits whether true or not were entertaining in between days of studying musty tombs and listening to Grendel drone on about the ‘possibilites’. Regardless the El and Arkhad had exploits and stories of their own that only a few dams and innkeepers of Minas Tiras knew to be true no matter how unbelievable the tales now sounded.
So now after confirming this increased bandit activity the new “pride of the fleet” gets stolen from right under the noses of Minister Falastur and crew. The freebooter’s chuckle was cut short at Tyrion’s blistering gaze…still it was damn funny that now they wanted them to chase after the thing….and were going to pay them….traveling in the next fastest boat in the fleet. This confirmed that the only people in government were those who couldn’t make an honest, or dishonest, living.
The group sat there stunned as their macabre friend relayed a tale from research he had undertaken. It seemed he had gleaned more from the secretly viewed scrolls of the Minister than the rest had although that was a theme oft repeated. The letters on the scrolls confirmed the research in that a Wonderous crystal that celebrated the Dark Lord’s death had untapped unbelievable magical properties. Taken in the sack of Umbar in the Third Age it had been taken into the ‘unknown city” of the desert. East by Southeast they headed into the Harad.
Minister Falastur had said that there were competing organizations but left out a few key points Grendel had made in his letters to the administrator in that these bandits may had already found some of the crystal and were using it in their raids…..that was it….
Elenbrand sat up quickly, “Hey I know how they stole that boat!”
Tyrion deigned not to even look the smuggler’s way, continuing to concentrate on his notes as he replied in deadpan boredome “Mmm, magic with a crystal made the boat invisible. You always were the last to get it.”
The door slammed behind El as Tyrion let slip a slight self-satisfied grin…it might take the rest of them the balance of the day…no perhaps two days to realize that Kadumeire, the leader of the group who would oppose the King of Gondor with his array of assasins was probably behind it all and that the lost city was Cerenesta of Oasis, River Valley….no maybe three days…until then he had some theories of his own to write down before their trip to Umbar.
It had been an eventful month since that fateful meeting with Grendel. Their former master had always been excentric with his teaching of magic and passionate about the possibility of bringing ‘the magic of the elves’ or the ‘magic lost to us’ back to Minas Tirith but never in Elenbrand’s short 23 years had he seen the manic look that their former teacher had in his eyes in speaking of his ‘findings’.
With all the mystery of those prior ages and adventure evident even in the 2nd age coins their master gave them for passage “Grendel’s greats” as El had taken to calling their group sarcastically, caught up on old times and things that had happened since they had all met under the crazed magician’s promises of teaching them wonderous magic. To this day it was only Tyrion, the recluse and somewhat macabre friend of theirs that really truly believed that their ‘spells’ really could work. None of them had ever been able to get their magic to work although each was hooked in some way to the arts lure and practiced it’s disciplines despite it’s ineffectiveness.
Elenbrand shook his head…and now they were in Pelargir and although he had ulterior motives in setting up the Dwarven trade route he still couldn’t believe the last couple days events for in meeting with Minister Falastur and confronting him on the ‘letter of introduction’ that he near refused he shook the foundations with the news that Grendel had been stripped of his teaching certification. The minister had been a tough nut to crack to be sure, his avoidance of the problem and hiding in administrivia was common among his type…the former smuggler and freebooter was well aware how to confront these types however. Once open the nut produced the most flavourful information yet telling them of the dedication of the new ship they had seen sitting in the harbour and confirming other tales that they had heard from Arkhad.
Ah Arkhad….his brown skinned friend…El could do nothing but smile when thinking about the crazy boy from the Harad he had met just a few short years before in taking his first class with Grendel. It had nearly come to blows a few times back then and while Elenbrand still called Arkhad “brown boy” it was a show of friendship and loyalty unlike those first few times. After finally understanding the broken westron with Harad accent Muriel, Teerion, and Elenbrand had many a laugh at the “brown boy’s” stories. His exploits whether true or not were entertaining in between days of studying musty tombs and listening to Grendel drone on about the ‘possibilites’. Regardless the El and Arkhad had exploits and stories of their own that only a few dams and innkeepers of Minas Tiras knew to be true no matter how unbelievable the tales now sounded.
So now after confirming this increased bandit activity the new “pride of the fleet” gets stolen from right under the noses of Minister Falastur and crew. The freebooter’s chuckle was cut short at Tyrion’s blistering gaze…still it was damn funny that now they wanted them to chase after the thing….and were going to pay them….traveling in the next fastest boat in the fleet. This confirmed that the only people in government were those who couldn’t make an honest, or dishonest, living.
The group sat there stunned as their macabre friend relayed a tale from research he had undertaken. It seemed he had gleaned more from the secretly viewed scrolls of the Minister than the rest had although that was a theme oft repeated. The letters on the scrolls confirmed the research in that a Wonderous crystal that celebrated the Dark Lord’s death had untapped unbelievable magical properties. Taken in the sack of Umbar in the Third Age it had been taken into the ‘unknown city” of the desert. East by Southeast they headed into the Harad.
Minister Falastur had said that there were competing organizations but left out a few key points Grendel had made in his letters to the administrator in that these bandits may had already found some of the crystal and were using it in their raids…..that was it….
Elenbrand sat up quickly, “Hey I know how they stole that boat!”
Tyrion deigned not to even look the smuggler’s way, continuing to concentrate on his notes as he replied in deadpan boredome “Mmm, magic with a crystal made the boat invisible. You always were the last to get it.”
The door slammed behind El as Tyrion let slip a slight self-satisfied grin…it might take the rest of them the balance of the day…no perhaps two days to realize that Kadumeire, the leader of the group who would oppose the King of Gondor with his array of assasins was probably behind it all and that the lost city was Cerenesta of Oasis, River Valley….no maybe three days…until then he had some theories of his own to write down before their trip to Umbar.
posted by Traxx | 10:23 AM
1 Comments:
Good blog Elenbrand.
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