Thread: Fellowship Of Forodwaith (Karameida & darkangel76)

The air in the inn suddenly chilled as the doors opened and a couple more newcomers darkened the doorstep. It wasn't odd for people to be coming and going at this hour, however it was indeed strange to see those not of the north entering the Inn of the Snowy Eagle. For a moment, Brynne tilted her dark head, her brow furrowing as she found herself wondering what brought an Elf and her companion this far from the havens of the fair folk. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, her thoughts drifting to the recent whispers she'd been hearing about dark magic, poison. The Lossotheven the strongest menhad seemed frightened of what was stirring. Was it reaching farther than she'd realized? Could these people be from Lindon? Not wanting to be rude and knowing it wasn't her business, Brynne turned her gaze away from the two women. Her dark eyes settled on Vaemyr's face, a face that had burned itself into her memory long before this night. His words seared her skin as her heart swallowed them whole. As her cheeks heated, she wondered if he knew just how much his presence meant to her, just how glad she truly felt to see him after so long. She missed her family, her desire to return them strong indeed. But sitting there in Vaemyr's shadow, she never felt more at home. Thank you kindly, Brynne said softly, her fingers gently twirling a stray dark curl. Her eyes had drifted away as her tummy suddenly began to flutter with a nervousness that hadn't been there until he'd made his solemn vow. I will do my utmost to aid you while I'm in your charge. How right that felt to speak, if only it was possible that he didn't still view her as a child, a silly girl who could sew a pretty seam. I've heard rumors of this winter you speak of, she continued, her expression darkening. The men here, they... she frowned. I know it frightens even them. There's something wrong about it, dark and sinister. She shook her head. I wish I knew more. However, there's been talk of Angmar. Brynne paused a moment, her thoughts moving to the night prior when she'd overheard a group of hunters discussing how the fortress of Angband had shown signs of activity. The very thought chilled her to the bone. All of Angmar had seemed quiet for so very long. So to hear word that there might be something...anything...going on in the looming dungeon that had once housed the witch-king made her blood turn cold. She hoped it was merely whispers, paranoia getting the best of everyone as the winter dwindled on endlessly. But a part of her knew better than to hold onto such things. A hunting party was said to travel too close and... Brynne's voice trailed and she bit down on her lip, her head turning to face Vaemyr. Word is that only one survived. He no longer remains this far to the north. He's rumored to have traveled to Lindon, but... her brows knitted together in worry. But I've never heard of any Lossoth leaving the Forodwaith. As she sat there, she knew that wasn't entirely true. According to history there was one Lossoth who'd dared to flee the frozen north only he'd ended up dead, his people scattered along the peninsula of Forochel. The Lossoth were a proud tribal people. They wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. Would they? Perhaps a start would be to seek out this man in Lindon or... She didn't want to think on the 'or' just yet. To traipse into Angmar? It was suicide! Meanwhile, on the other side of the inn, Maran sat at the table and looked her old teacher in the eye. It is so good to see a friendly face after all this time. Her face was full of sadness as she thought about her family, how the orcs had murdered her parents, her brother before her very eyes. I was on my way from Rivendell to see what poisons hail from the north into Lindon. She shifted in her seat, pale hair falling over slim shoulders. Word has reached us in the south that evil is hurting our kin folk, spurning the migration west. Maran's gray eyes glistened with unshed tears. It was too soon for all of her family to leave Middle-Earth. She wasn't ready. Then again, she didn't know if she'd ever be ready. Far too much of her life had been invested in the realm and she hardly longed to leave it. My family was summoned to Lindon, only...only we were attacked on the way, Maran stated. My parents, my...Orrin, En. They killed Orrin. A tear ran along her cheek and she gently brushed it away. We were supposed to help them, to help heal those who've fallen ill. Maran's abilities were known far and wide among her kind and the fair folk. En had taught her well and her family had always been so proud of the woman she'd become. Orrin had always been so supportive, the first to tell her to answer her calling and follow her heart. It was her that everyone in Lindon were most depending on. But even she wasn't sure that her knowledge and abilities would be able to help. Perhaps with En accompanying, they'd stand a chance. Something! Though she knew that they'd have to figure out what exactly was causing the problem in the first place. Why was Lindon in dire straights? She could only hope answers would come if she made it there. Would you come with me, dear En? Maran asked, her eyes full of hope as she held onto her old teacher's hand. Would you come with me to Lindon to finish the journey I began?