Thread: Fellowship Of Forodwaith (Karameida & darkangel76)

Somehow the sky seemed to get darker, the air colder. But that just wasn't possible, spiteful tricks of nature purposefully meant to deceive! As Maran huffed through the darkness, she could feel the fear coursing through her Noldor veins, her blood almost as cold as the ice that surrounded her for what appeared to be miles. Glancing down at her feet, she continued to runher steps light despite how much she pushed herselfover the snowy ground of Forodwaith. Her body was trembling, shivering in both fright and from the vicious bite in the air as it gnashed at her pale flesh while she ran. Licking her lips, her mind drifted back to her family and how their bodies had been mutilated all those miles back... so much blood, so much screaming... Maran's eyes began to water as she tried to shake off the fresh memory. She couldn't dwell on it when goblins could still be about. She needed to find safety, something! But there was nothing in this desolate area she found herself in, this place so different from home, from Rivendell. Just then, she heard a shout. Immediately, her gray eyes narrowed into slits and her body went stock still. The voices were gruff, speaking in a tongue unfamiliar to her own, clearly a language of the north. Blinking, she turned to see who was calling out and if their sudden presence meant danger. Who's there? Maran called back in Elven, though she cursed herself for being so foolish as to speak at all. These were dark times and she was in a land strange to her and full of dark magic. Her Elf eyes peered through the darkness as she clutched herself about her middle, her mind unsure of what fared in the shadows just out of reach. She dared a step, the voices louder and in the distance she was able to see the shadows of men and goblins as weapons clashedsteel against steel. Maran's breaths quickened, her senses on full alert. The memory of the massacre was still fresh in her mind, the vision of her parents' and brother's bodies as they lay in pools of crimson in the hard packed snow. Her body shuddered and the urge to leave the area grew strong. As she watched the display in the distance, she knew she had to run, to find help. She was her family's last hope of investigating the troubles of the north, of reuniting with their kin in Lindon. There was much work to be done and due to the oaths she'd silently taken, she had to see them through. Setting her jaw, Maran stepped back into the darkness, letting the men handle the goblins and hoping that none of the creatures caught her scent. Thinking of her parents, of her brotherOrrinshe turned quickly on her heels and made way into the moonless night. As she raced lightly across the snow, body trembling against the harsh and bitter winds, she heard a scuffle. Another? Such dark times indeed. Holding on to hope, Maran clutched her cloak and dared to call out once again. She was not suited for the barren wastes of the Forodwaith. Hello? she called out in Elven, her voice unsure. Please... she whispered, her eyes damp as fear firmly took hold of her heart and the weight of her task fell heavy upon her. Meanwhile at the Inn of the Snowy Eagle, Brynne sat next to Vaemyr, her mind racing as she looked up into his eyes. So much time had passed since she'd last seen him, yet she recounted every moment they'd had together. Of course, she'd just been a child, a silly girl he had to protect because that had been his job. Though, she'd been angry when he'd left, despite understanding why he'd gone and...she'd missed him. She wondered if he remembered much about his station as her father's guard, if he remembered much about her at all. Her eyes noticed the cloak he wore. He still had it. But did it matter? Did it mean to him what it had meant to her? Looking down into her lap, fingers furiously twisting a dark curl of hair, she decided that it probably didn't. After all, why would it?