Thread: Kauppa-Kohta

Name Luthen Race Elf Noldor. Attire Light Chain-Metal enchanted Armor, Snow-White colored. Weapon Longbow, Iron Arrows. Two White Gold Daggers. Location Kauppa-Kohta outskirts. Tagging Anyone, Maranwe. Time TA 3018, March 1, evening. It's really bloody cold up here. Luthien thought to himself as he braved the frozen winter that was Forodwaith. This place literally sucked, and nothing about it reminded him of home. Though, he figured that was the point. It wasn't like Sauron and his pets wanted to make everything beautiful but to turn it into different kinds of Hell. This was a pretty good blueprint to go off of, as places didn't come any colder and harsher than this. Still, he had a reason to be here and a bit of cold weather wasn't going to stop him from reaching his goal. The thought had him let out a small sigh, his breath visible in the cold air, flowing past his face as he walked down the frozen road. Luthien, being the man that he was, had volunteered to come out to the North once the effects were being felt all the way in Rivendell, but his Great Grandfather needed him elsewhere. There weren't many people that could say no to Elrond, and Luthien wasn't one of them. He respected his Great Grandfather, as many elves did, but he did not approve of his decision to keep Luthien away from the north while sending his best friend's entire family up there instead. Now, Now Orrin, Mara, and their parents were lost and un-heard from. The thought further chased away any smile that dared creep upon his face, and the weight of the thought was suddenly heavy on his heart. The worst should be assumed, or so he was told. The likelihood that they had survived was slim to none, and frankly he was told that this wouldn't be much of a rescue mission, but a recovery of bodies and inspection of the North. Oh ye of little faith. Luthien mumbled to himself, deep down hoping and praying against all odds that logic wasn't the case here. He couldn't face that fact, he wouldn't live with himself if there were no survivors, if Orrin was...No, he brushed the thought from his head and kept marching forward, knowing it would do him no good. He would find them, and he would drag their asses back home and away from this mess. That, is when he happened upon a stumbling buffoon who nearly tripped on her own robes as she ran from some chasing Goblins. For a moment, he was as taken back as the group of people she just slammed in as he watched her run into them. He was still out of their sight, but he could see everything that was happening. For a second, he looked at them like they were a bunch of blithering idiots, before he realized that the Goblins weren't as amused as he was. The group was outnumbered, and they were the first people he saw in a good few days of travelling. At least he could get directions from them. At that, he quietly snuck up behind the Goblins as they charged at the group with their wooden maces and weapons. He drew his bow, and loaded four arrows between his fingers before pulling the string as far back as he could. Snap. He let go, and the enchanted arrows darted off and pierced four Goblins straight in the back without them even knowing about it. It was then that he let out a loud war cry, and charged forward towards the remaining Goblin and quickly yanking out his dagger, slicing it's throat before the group of people could react. Only once all the Goblins were dead, did he put his weapons away finally and turn to face the group. Well, you all sure know how to be stealthy. Especially you. He motioned towards the robed Maiar, before scanning the group with his eyes lightly. You all really need to take better care of your s-- He paused, as his eyes caught a figure that...no, it was impossible, he wouldn't be this lucky.