Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[The last sane person]

Somewhere off in the distance, a bird sang its praises to the coming of the morning. Volricom got up from where he had lain next to Raendil and stretched, adding his happy whinny to the birds’ chorus. He leaned over and snuffled in his master’s ears, to alert him to the coming of the sun, and the impending race. Ray’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up stretching from his bed of cedar boughs.

Ray grinned and scratched the big stallion behind the ears, Volricom lipped Ray’s satchel and snuffled Ray’s sleep tousled hair. “Oh, fine you feed-bag with legs! Here is your treat.� Ray laughed and shook the canvas bag, and Volricom perked his ears and licked his lips as he heard the rustling of food. Still chuckling, Ray tied the nose bad up behind Volricom’s ears and let him munch on the specially prepared mixture of nuts, oats, barely, berries and other grains.

It was a special mixture he had perfected while staying with the mighty horse lords of Rhovanion, as a youth. His father was a fast friend of the houses of the Northmen; indeed, his mother was a northern noble woman. As such, during his stays with his mother’s people and the elves, he become a cunning horseman indeed. The mixture gave a great boost to stamina, energy and speed, not only for the horse, but for the rider as well. He had cooked a special batch earlier, the night before and was munching on that as he started to warm up his muscles.

For that, he had the elves of the wandering companies to thank. One summer, he accompanied Valandil and the royal household to Rivendell; Ray had run off one night. Escaping for a time into the gardens and adjoining field, where he saw a group of warriors, with a banner he did not recognize. They were singing, dancing and…sparring. This got Raendil curious. Without forgetting his manners, he went forward with a greeting, “Hail fair people! I am Raendil, son of Mathron. May I come to watch?� He was proud of his elvish, for he had picked it up faster than Valandil and could speak fluently.

The elves laughed, and called him over. One asked if he could sing, which made Raendil promptly forgot his shyness and amazed them all with his singing. In turn, he was amazed with their martial prowess. He had started to learn their stretching, workouts and drills with the wobbly movements of a child, but it was now replaced with the firm, confidant grace of a young man. Once thoroughly warmed up, he took the feed bag off and rode home to wash off and fetch his sword.

“I know its peace time, but outside these walls, anything is game, no point in being foolish!� With that he girt his battle sword around his waist, with which he and his fathers men defended the borders of their home. Leaping onto Volricom’s back, he took off for the starting point of the race, giving his mount plenty of warm up time.

[Lotesse]

When Viniglaen got to the back entrance of Orrodel House, she found the door slightly ajar. Puzzled, she entered the house, and quietly shut the door behind her. She felt her entire family's presence in the house. The intensity of presence extant in the spiritual air in Orrodel was such that Viv decided, rather than rush headlong into what very well may be a bubbling cauldron of dangerous Nazgullian emotions, she'd hang back for a bit.

Without a second thought, Viv turned and went down to the wine cellar. Her favourite plush chair and her beloved dog-eared history books were down there. Her miruvor was down there. So that's where Viv sequestered herself, for a good half hour, immersed in The History of Ardan Metallurgy, curled up in her plump comfy chair, sipping miruvor, and blocking out the emotional commotion she felt trying to bear down on her from the fighting Nazgul upstairs, and from her heart within.

[Gordis]

Orrodel, Night on Monday

"By the way," Udu asked nonchalantly, "did you kill the maid?"

Khamul was too busy to reply, concentrated on making a fairy regular grid of whiplashes across Lilly’s bottom. Lilly was rendered mute, and only moaned pitifully.

"Are you quite finished, Lord Khamul?" asked a cold voice from the door. All the assembled nazgul could have recognised the voice anywhere. The Captain's tall figure slowly materialised in the middle of the room, followed by two others, Aiwendis and Tolvadok.

Khamul turned from the bed, whip in hand, to offer an explanation. But the Morgul Lord waved him aside, frowning.

"I would be most obliged, if in the future you would recur to more dignified methods of punishment."

The Morgul Lord turned, surveying the room and its unhappy occupants. The three paralysed nazgul felt their minds briefly searched, and then, with a word from the Captain, they felt themselves free.

Khamul’s eyes blazed, as he saw himself deprived of his prey. Turning to the Captain, he spat "They have conspired against me! They bespelled me with a dirty wax figure!"

Lilly sat up, hissing from pain, and exclaimed, pointing at Khamul with a shaking arm "The bloody bastard has nearly KILLED me this morning!!! It was my right to repay him!"

"If I punished her, I did it on your command, My Lord" Khamul appealed to the Captain.

"You are mistaken. I told you to reprimand her, not to punish."

From the bewildered look on Khamul’s face it was evident that he hardly knew the difference.

"Anyway, continued the Morgul Lord, "if this morning Lilaenwen got more than she deserved, this night she certainly got not enough. So in average you may consider that you got your due, Lilly."

"But what about them?" asked Khamul, pointing at Udu and Buz. This bloody tark has nearly cut off my head!"

The Morgul Lord smiled. "Well, now he has plenty of wood splinters in his tender parts".

"Buzukkumarz, don’t stare at me like that. Bring your kit of potions and attend to Lilaenwen and Udukhaturz. I will look at your neck myself, Khamul".

The Morgul Lord went to the only remaining chair and sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him tiredly.
"From now on, any quarrels should be settled outside the city. Our position here is too precarious. There will be no more fighting tonight. Viniglaen, I see you are here at last. You will play the hostess, as our Lilly is incapacitated. But first, take us out of this pigsty, somewhere where we could drink and talk."

[Lotesse]

But the more she read the book, the less the words made sense to her, and the more she sipped the miruvor, the sharper her thoughts became. It was no use. She could not get him out of her mind. Even her body felt different, her heart felt unnaturally sped up, her fingertips and toetips felt tingly, her scalp felt warm and her belly lurched about within her as if she were pregnant. It wasn't a child within Viv, though. Viniglaen was pregnant with her first experience of love, and as yet she couldn't figure that out.

Irritated and happy at the same time, she gave up trying to read. She got out of the chair, set the book down, set the glass of miruvor down, and combed her hand through her hair, trying to think straight. For a distraction, and to help herself think, she restlessly walked through the cave-like wine cellar, a cellar which encompassed the entire floor-plan of Orrodel and then some. She walked, holding a torch aloft for light, and here and there she stopped to take out a bottle and pretend to herself to be interested in its label. If she weren't so phenomenally distracted by the new beautiful turmoil within her, she'd have been able to remember all the extremely rare vintages she kept running across; indeed, Orrodel House had one of Tharbad's best kept secrets within its cellar walls - an outstanding collection of wines and liquors, dating back many hundreds of years.

In love! Was she in love? 'What is love,' mused a very frustrated yet unreasonably ecstatic Viv. 'What is this, this LOVE anyway? I love my family, don't I? But suddenly I feel like Raendil is a missing extension of ME, of who I really am, and if he cannot be with me, I'd forever be missing a part of me. Is THAT love?'

At one point in her walk, she paused - directly above the part of the house where the other Nazgul were talking. Viv put aside her feverish musings momentarily, so she could tune into what was being said up there. No good staying out of the loop. What she heard made her very grateful to herself for having had the common sense to stay down in the wine cellar while her crazy family was at it.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

After seeing the young lady put her horse away and enter the house Mahtaliel decided that this watching was quite ridiculous. Certainly they were an odd family, but she would learn nothing by watching their house in the night. The fog was thickening again anyway, and she still had paperwork to deal with before the morning.

Swiftly she made her way back along the wall, as she passed above the north end of the commerce building her sharp ears heard a faint roar from the direction of the mansion. What in arda were they up to this late? She would have to watch them carefully indeed.

Quickening her pace she reached the stairs, rather than going all the way down and around to the front of her house she stopped halfway down and leapt across the short distance between the stairs and her open second story window.

Once inside she made herself a cup of tea, settled down at her desk and began to sort through the tedious pile of work.

[Lotesse]

Viv left the wine cellar, and headed to the boudoir upstairs where everyone was.

"...there will be no more fighting tonight," the Morgul Lord was saying. Without turning his head to look at her, as Viv walked tentatively into the room, Ilmenzor continued.
"Viniglaen, I see you are here at last." Viv gracefully made a quick curtsy in response. "You will play the hostess, as our Lilly is incapacitated. But first, take us out of this pigsty, somewhere where we could drink and talk."

"Yes, my Lord," Viv answered. She could swear she heard a sarcastic mimicry coming from Lilly's head - 'Yes, my Lord! Stupid Viv, where was she when I needed her?'

"We could go to the big study upstairs, the room that overlooks the back garden" Viv suggested. "The drapes are very heavy and thick, and I don't think even Rian has discovered it yet because I was just in that room the other day, and the sheets haven't even been taken off the furniture yet."

"Very well," said the Morgul Lord. "The study it is." Buz assisted the contrite and battered Lilly, as they made their way up to the third floor, following Viv.

"Lilly, Five, can I get you two something from the kitchen? You guys must be peckish by now, after all that's transpired tonight."

"Carpaccio sandwich," mumbled Five.

"Surprise me," Lilly said.

While the others started "catching up" with each other - and they all had much to say to one another, Viv disappeared downstairs to the kitchen to make Lil and Five some little sandwiches. She also went down to the cellar real quick and fetched a few bottles - some aged cognac, some sherry, a bottle of Nurn '68 just in case anyone was hankering for that.


Upstairs in what was to become named their secret situation room, Buz gently healed Lil on one of the sprawling settees, and Gordis made herself comfortable in a plush chair near them, while Udu, Tolvadok and the Morgul Lord began an earnest and important discussion which was to involve them all. Presently, Viv came back with the drinks and litle sandwiches, and removed the rest of the sheets from the furniture, and busied herself for a minute securing the room against any possibility of unwanted intrusion or prying ears or eyes. There was only one window overlooking the courtyard and part of the garden below, but it was very thickly and heavily draped, and had been sealed shut for centuries. There was no fireplace in that room, and the walls were very, very thick. There was only the smallish, extremely thick non-descript door for entrance and exit.

[The last sane person]

Marthalion woke up at the crack of dawn, stretching his long lean limbs. “Ah, today is the day! We will finally be able to see if Mister Bragging-Britches is all he is cracked up to be in the saddle!� With that, he set to warming up and fetching his horse. This was a topic of debate between the two young men, seeing as Marty was one of the best of Arnor, and it was rare that he or his horse Ithilion could be beaten, it only happened a few times before, and twice it was to elves that he lost. With that, he silently crept out of his room, not wanting to disturb Val or his counselors whom, to Marty’s ears, were greatly enjoying their beauty sleep, snoring away in the land of dreams. As he passed Valandil’s chamber, his grin grew, and he had to muffle a laugh.

Ah, my mighty king! Man among men! One of the highest born, of the line of Elros. Graced with the life span thrice the length of mere commoners, the strength of ten men and snores louder than a hundred combined! As if in answer to that thought, Val let out one long snore. Marty allowed himself a small chuckle, and glanced back. I hope that doofus remembered what I told him about the race…After all, Ray and I have only been arguing about this for a year. If he gets all piss-anty with us for not babying him for a few hours…I swear I am gonna give him one in the kisser! For a brief moment, Marty was tempted to go remind the king, Oh to Mordor with it, if I wake him now, that will earn me the royal boot up the arse like no other! Rather, Marty opted to write him a note;

VALANDIL!

If we aren’t back here yet, just remember that Raendil and I are having it out in our horse race. Don’t panic, more than likely we’ll be back before you even get up to read this note, though probably you will have woken half the city with your incessant nasal thunder!

Yours,

Marthalion

With that he was fully warmed up and out to the stables to fetch and groom Ithilion. The great silver stallion whinnied when he saw his preferred person striding into the stables. He knew what was going to go down, and he was eager for it. As a stallion, as soon as Ithilion met Volricom, he wanted to see who was the better. Volricom beat him hands down in fighting, having been raised and used in battles with Raendil, but in plain speed, Ithilion was probably a match for the big bay. Not to mention, Ithilion had a soft spot for the mare Laslech. That was what the fight was about, after all, only fitting that a healthy male like Ithilion to be curious about such a cute little filly. Compounded with the fact that Laslech was quite the flirt. He stamped his hooves in annoyance as he remembered his failed attempt at flirting, driven back with a pair of flying back hooves. Mares… Well I’ll show her! She can’t keep up with me in this race! Pity that snot Volricom isn’t going to be here, I’d whup him too!

Marty picked up on his horse’s feelings. “Hey there boy, I hope you are well rested, cause its not just Laslech you are to be racing against. Volricom is to be there too! Laslech has a new owner!� Ithilion perked his ears and gave an eager bounce on his hind legs. “yes, that she does! It’s Ray’s girlfriend, Viniglaen, who owns her now. I say old fellow, we are in for some fun either way!� he groomed and tacked up Ithilion, lost in thought. Yes, we will have fun indeed…And I will get to have a look at this young woman who caught Raendil so. Must be quite the lady to have so thoroughly snared him. Marty smiled fiercely, “Well, Mighty or Not, We wont let either of them have an easy win, are we boy?" Ithilion mirrored his sentiments exactly, and reared as he charged towards the designated race start, making sure to warm up his muscles appropriately.

[Earniel]

Downstairs Itazel, Eärniel's host, was already up and preparing break-fast. Eärniel could smell the fresh baked bread when she came down the stairs.

"You're up early, Itazel," she remarked when she entered the kitchen.

Itazel nearly dropped the plates but managed to hold on to them in the last second. Eärniel jumped forward to help but it wasn't necesary.

"My, Eärniel, you do tread softly on those elven feet of yours. I didn't hear you coming!"

"I didn't mean to startle you, Itazel." Eärniel apologized. "Here, let me take those plates."

Itazel waved her away. "Nonsense," she said sternly, "I'm not a frail old woman that needs to be pampered! I'll have you know that I ran this inn for well over seventy years before closing it down. And I still could! So sit down and eat."

Eärniel smiled as she obediently sat down. "I would never dare to refer to you as old and frail, Itazel. Not after I see the scolding you sometimes give to Danor."

Danor was Itazel's hasband, and even over a hundred years, he was still a tall and strong man. And still two heads taller than his wife. But neither that or Itazel's grey hairs stopped her from scolding him unmercifully if he did something that wasn't to her liking.

They had run the small inn together for most of their lives. But both their children had moved out by now and Itazel and Danor had decided it was about time they closed down the inn after that, to enjoy their last years together in some peace. Eärniel was therefore their only guest.

"The old dear," said Itazel, and her tone and smile indicated that the scolding was never meant unkindly. "But sometimes I do think working so long at the smithy in his young years has melted his brain."

Itazel put down a jug of tea on the table and sat down opposite of Eärniel.

"I didn't hear you come home yesterday, but your friend that came along in the evening and brought back your lugage, said you'd be back soon. I trust the problem is solved at home?" She asked.

Eärniel smiled when she recalled Nardol's 'monsters', the pike and the beavers that she had dealt with the day before.

"Yes, that's been taking care of. I don't think I'll have to leave so soon again."

"Good to hear. So tell me then," Itazel leant forward with a conspiratory glint in her eyes. "What do you think of our young King? Surely you did you dance with him!"

"Hm, he's nice," Eärniel said before taking a bite from the still warm bread.

"Nice? No no no, that just won't do. I want details, girl, details!"

Eärniel laughed. "Very well then, let me see... We did dance, for a short while any way. He's a good dancer, definitely learned a thing or two in Imladris. He's handsome, very handsome actually. There's this slightly Elvish touch to him, probably due to his lineage and youth spent in Imladris. I can definitely how that attracks so much attention of the young women of Tharbad. He's friendly, genuinely friendly I mean. Not the polite, somewhat false friendliness you come across on these human formal occasions... "

Itazel leant backwards again and nodded. "Ah," she said knowingly.

"What 'ah'?" Eärniel asked suspiciously.

"You like him." Itazel said flatly.

Eärniel nearly choked in her tea. "What is that suppose to mean? It was only one dance!"

"Now now, dear. You do not need to get so defensive about it. I said you liked him, I didn't say you were falling head over heels for him. You're the one who immediatly thought of that meaning."

"I am not de-" Eärniel started, but stopped realising she would just prove Itazel's point by saying it. She finished her tea and stood up.

"Itazel, you can be very infuriating, you know that?"

"Oh yes, Danor is sure to tell me so about every day," Itazel replied with a grin that belied her many years.

"It doesn't mean you're right about everything, though," Eärniel said with a smile as she took her cloak from the rack and donned it.

"No, but it doesn't mean I have to be wrong, either!" Itazel's voice came from the kitchen.

Eärniel laughed heartedly and pulled the door shut behind her. It still was early and she still had time for a morning stroll through the park before the day truly started for the rest of Tharbad.

[Rían]

Eärniel closed her eyes and smiled as the fresh morning breeze blew gently on her face. "Ahh, this is what I needed!" she thought to herself, and stepped out briskly.

She hadn't slept well last night - scenes from the reception kept running through her head over and over, like her mind was telling her that there was something there that needed to be connected. But try as she might, she couldn't put any of the pieces together. The King figured prominently in the scenes - walking into the hall; greeting the guests; coming up to join RÃ*an and herself with the Rochdel players; making the toast (and apparently stepping on some toes without knowing it!); his graceful adaption to the customs of the host as he drained the cup (there! there was something there... but what?); his dance (or dances) with RÃ*an that raised an eyebrow or two among those who knew him; her discovery by the fountain - and on and on, playing over and over in her head.

"Well, if I'm going to have someone stuck in my head, at least he's an agreeable and handsome someone!" she thought with a smile, as she fluffed up her pillow and turned over, and finally went to sleep.

As she approached the park the next morning, she was still musing on these questions, and didn't even notice RÃ*an approaching her until she was quite close.

RÃ*an had spotted her friend long before Eärniel had seen them. "Oh, it's Eärniel!" she told her two companions happily. "I can't wait for you to meet her!" Turning to her brother, she said, "Alagos, do you remember the little girl at the Fountain of the King that last day in Gondolin? The one whose kite you got down from the tree, and whom you teased so much with your rock trick? That's her, right there! I found her at her father's fountain on the way out of the city and took her with me, since her parents and sisters were gone. We spent many years together, and have just now found each other again!"

Alagos, remembering his dreams, answered more thoughtfully than RÃ*an was used to hear him speaking. "Yes, I remember her well," he said pensively, and she looked up inquisitively at his unusually thoughtful face. But then his face changed, and he said conspiratorially, with his usual twinkle in his eyes, "Don't tell her our names or who we are at first! Just introduce us as your friends, OK? I'd like to try something." Seeing RÃ*an's look of doubt, he assured her, "Don't worry, little sister. I only want to see if she remembers the rock game."

Eärniel, hearing voices, looked up and was surprised to see her friend with two men - men of the Eldar, she could tell, but from the look of some of their gear, men of ... Gondolin?

RÃ*an ran up to her friend and took her hands, pressing something into one of them. She leaned over to embrace her friend and whispered, "Don't say anything - you'll need that shortly!", and then more loudly, "Eärniel! I'm so glad to see you!"

"And I, you, RÃ*an!" she said with a smile, although with a slightly puzzled expression. "And who are your friends?"

Alagos stepped forward with a smile on his face and held out his left hand with a stone on it. With his right, he hit the bottom of his left hand, sending the stone high up into the air. He reached up and swiftly swung both hands through the air in the vicinity of the flying stone, then brought them down before Eärniel's face. "Which hand?" he said with a mischevious smile.

Instantly Eärniel recognized him. "Alagos! It's you!" she said in astonishment and joy.

"Yes, it is, and you STILL can't answer my question, can you!" he laughed back.

"Oh, yes I can," she said. "Which hand? THIS one!" and she opened her own hand which held the stone that RÃ*an had slipped into it.

Tyaron roared with laughter at the look on Alagos' face, and soon Alagos joined in. RÃ*an and Eärniel gave each other the equivalent of an Elvish high-five. Alagos stopped laughing with difficulty, and said, "You win, my lady!" and bowed gallantly to her. "And I'll deal with YOU later!" he added with a wink in an aside to his sister, realizing why she had bent over to brush something off her shoe right before they hailed Eärniel.

[Rían]

After introducing Tyaron to Eärniel and catching up as well as they could in a few minutes, Eärniel thought to check if they needed a place to stay, as she could hardly imagine the men would be welcome at Orrodel.

Eärniel asked them, "Where are you staying? Have you eaten yet this morning?"

Tyaron answered gracefully, "We are guests of Yavanna Kementari the blessed, and we dine at her bountiful table."

Alagos interrupted. "What he is saying is that we're living off the land and sleeping in trees!" As they all laughed, he added, "And I, for one, am open to other options. Do you have any to suggest?"

"Why? Hasn't she served breakfast yet?" answered Eärniel slyly.

Alagos laughed and bowed to her again. "Your wit, as well as your stature and beauty, has grown since I saw you last," he said to her with a smile that RÃ*an had seldom seen on his handsome face. Eärniel usually didn't like compliments, but from this man, they were different - kind of an acknowledgement of an equal to an equal - and sincerely meant, not just pretty, empty words. She inclined her head in thanks, and then continued, "I believe there might be some rooms at some of the inns, if you would prefer that to trees. And for breakfast, I would suggest the Red Herring - if you're lucky, there will be more there than what you have been used to recently!"

Explanations that RÃ*an had to go to Orrodel first followed, and as the men were as yet unwilling to leave her, they all headed over that way, talking and reminiscing about their times together.

[CrazySquirrel]

Zimra was trying to sleep in her little servant’s room with red and yellow curtains and a fine view on the courtyard. But sleep eluded her. When she managed to sleep at all, her sleep was disturbed by dreams.
What a day it has been! Promoted to a lady’s maid the first day of her service! She was worried about the masters, though. She was afraid of the grim Professor, and disturbed by the young Master. This one loved his bottle too much, that was certain. It would be a shame to quit such a good place because of him. But he was a handsome lad, even if he had deplorable manners. Zimra smiled. Not that she will ever allow him anything…

At this moment, Zimra heard heavy footsteps in the corridor. Man’s footsteps. It was strange, as the servant’s wing was nearly empty. Only three of the rooms on the second floor were occupied. Apart from Zimra herself, there were only Melwen and Rian the elf.
Fumbling, Zimra lighted a candle and put her dress on. The footsteps passed her door and went down the corridor. Opening her door, Zimra peeped out. She saw a man carrying Melwen! Her cousin seemed quite unwell, her head lolling and tears in her eyes. Zimra ran after the man, who turned. It was Arastud, the stableboy.

"What is wrong with my cousin?" cried Zimra.

The man didn’t reply at once, he seemed to choose his words carefully.

"I am afraid, Zimra, that she has drank too much. She came to the stables and was ill. Please take care of her."

Zimra eyed him suspiciously. She did not know him at all, but she could bet that he was not telling her all the truth, if not lying. But Melwen needed attention, so after a curt nod to the departing man, Zimra proceeded to put Melwen in bed. The girl told her nothing, only cried softly. Zimra gave her a cordial and took some herself. Soon Melwen was asleep. Zimra took her candle, returned to her own room and finally fell asleep herself.

[Udukhaturz]

Freed of Khamûl’s chaining spell, Udukhatûrz expressed his gratitude to the Morgul Lord in thought through ósanwe-kenta, thought-speech. He felt no such gratitude when Buzukkumarz had taken a knife and extracted the shards of wood from his wounded backside. Then he had hissed, “Do you have to be so blasted rough with that knife!�

It would take a lot of wine tonight to soothe Udu. He was angry at all of them. The Morgul Lord, simply because he could exert power over him if he wanted; Khamûl for casting the spell on him; Aiwendis for asking him to go to warn them; Buzukkumarz for his part in the plot against Khamûl but mostly for his botched surgery techniques; Lilly for her contributions to Khamûl’s anger; Tolvadok because he had never liked the man in the first place; and Viv simply because he was in a bad mood.

He stood in front of the heavily curtained, draped window upstairs, holding a goblet filled with Nurn '68. At least the wine was good, he thought, and better even than a good vintage was the power he felt once again renewed in his Ring.

He looked about the other assembled ringbearers in the room. He doubted that they trusted him any more than he trusted them.

He turned and opened the drape a crack and looked out into the darkness. He could not detect any danger below. He looked back into the room at the others and smiled his icy, cold smile.

“I had felt a summons whilst I dwelt in the East and I knew that summons all too well. I was being called here for some purpose.� He looked directly at the Morgul Lord. “Do not expect me to believe that all of you have suddenly taken an interest in educating frail mortals. I know there is a game afoot,� he said, “and I know there can be only one winner... But there can be many losers. Why am I here?� he asked cautiously.

[Serenoli]

Tolvadok followed Viv as she led them all to a large room, with only one door, and heavily draped windows. There were also quite a number of armchairs, settees and tables… the perfect place to have a good talk without interupption.

Buz had brought his potions, meanwhile and was tending gently to Lily. Udu did not seem so badly hurt. He was standing now by the window. Khamul, however, was rather neglected. The Morgul Lord seemed to have forgotten about looking at his wound, and Khamul was seated in a corner, alone and morose, trying hard to tie up his neck by himself. Gordis sat demurely by herself in another corner.

The Morgul Lord was seated near the center of the room. He was deep in thought, and as though waiting for the patching up to be completed, and for Viv to return from the kitchen, where she had gone to bring some food for Buz and Lily. Tolvadok wished he had reminded her to bring something for him… after the long journey, he was rather starved… but he could wait…

What was more pressing than his hunger were the questions in his head. He waited for someone else to start, and then growing impatient, when he saw no one was forthcoming, he was about to burst out, when Udu beat him to it

“I had felt a summons whilst I dwelt in the East and I knew that summons all too well. I was being called here for some purpose.� He looked directly at the Morgul Lord. “Do not expect me to believe that all of you have suddenly taken an interest in educating frail mortals. I know there is a game afoot,� he said, “and I know there can be only one winner... But there can be many losers. Why am I here?� he asked cautiously.

The Morgul Lord seemed not to have heard him, but Tolvadok replied:

‘My part is easily explained. For many years, I have wandered the lands to the East, sometimes joining in battles, and sometimes searching for… for the Dark Lord, for I believe him still to be alive.’ Several pairs of eyes flashed at the mention of the Dark Lord, but no one interrupted him.

‘And then, a hundred and six days ago, near the Ered Mithrin, I felt a call… someone was telling me to go South, and this call was so much like to the call of the Dark Lord, though much fainter, that I came hither at once.’

Meanwhile, Viv came back with a tray of sandwiches and drinks, and then busied herself removing sheets from the furniture. Tolvadok eyed the sandwiches hungrily for a moment, and then continued.

‘As I approached, I seemed to see visions of the walls of a city I had only seen once many years ago – I recognised Tharbad, and I remembered furthermore who lives in Tharbad… the Morgul Lord in the guise of the Chancellor. I know this because I was there when he captured Ilmenzor, and I knew that Gordis was here with him. And so I knew that the Morgul Lord had summoned me, and I hastened even more. Now I am here, I find that all, almost all of us are gathered here. And I also wish someone to tell me what we are doing here.’

[Lotesse]

"Well, I'm here for an education," piped up Viv. Gordis cast her an admonishing look for speaking out of turn like a naive kid, and Ilmenzor just smiled slightly as he prepared to address them all upon this ever-so-important question. Abashed, and a little bit pink in the face, Viv lowered her head and brought the sandwiches over to Buz and Lilly. Buz didn't want his sandwich after all, though; so Viv, picking up on Tolvadok's hungry vibe, wordlessly brought some carpaccio sandwiches over to where he stood, still waiting for a response.

[Rían]

Arabud was bored. His big brother had left on some errand, muttering something about a wheel.

Arabud tossed and turned, then got up with a glint in his eye.

Arabud was a climber, and he had been eyeing the enticing window ledges and other interesting climbing features on Orrodel's main building.

He got up from his bed and crept quietly over to a likely-looking starting place. There were lights on in the windows, and - what was that noise?!?!

He would have to be careful.

[Rían]

Arabud climbed up a few feet and then slipped, sliding down the wall and scraping his elbow so that it bled.

He went back into the stable to tend to it.

He heard some more noises from the building.

"Hmm," he thought, "maybe I should just go to bed after all."

He considered his next move.

[Gordis]

The Morgul Lord was deep in thought, while the patching up and food distribution was being completed. He accepted a silver goblet of Nurn and swirled the dark wine in it distractedly. With a curt word he sent Aiwendis to help Khamul with his injured neck, and she applied the dressings neatly, eyeing her assembled brethren warily.

At last, Udu and Tolvadok could bear it no longer. Hearing their words, the Morgul Lord lifted his head and smiled his icy smile. Keeping his eyes on the circle of attentive faces, he said:

"You were summoned indeed, for a quest awaits you in Tharbad. You knew not who summoned you, but you are here in the nick of time. Yes you are called for a purpose"

He took a sip of the wine and continued, his eyes suddenly alight with passion.

"The Ash Nazg is missing. We must find and secure it. All our future, nay, our very existence and the fate of our Master depend on it."

With the last words the Morgul Lord looked at Tolvadok whose eyes widened and cheeks blushed slightly at the mention of the name of the Dark Lord.

"We will not speak now of winners and loosers. If the Elves have got the Ring, our existence is at stake, for they may destroy the One at their whim. More likely, an imposter will claim Ash Nazg, and, if he is strong enough, he may grow mighty and enslave us."

"..again!" continued Aiwendis mentally. Tolvadok must have caught her thought, as he turned his burning eyes on her. Aiwendis now sat in a corner, on a low settee, next to Udu. Feeling Tolvadok's gaze, she shriveled and shifted nearer to Udu, but he looked at her with hostility.

"We must find and obtain the Ring, continued the Morgul Lord sternly. To accomplish that we shall again work together. Long have I sought the knowledge of its whereabouts, but I can't be certain even now".

He told them about wannabe Dark-Lord Isildur and his pathetic fall.

"Lord Khamul has searched the Gladden on my command, and he traced and killed all the orcs that were involved in the fight. None had what we seek."
"That much is clear, the Ring was at Isildur's finger when the King abandoned his men and ran for the river. What happened next is a matter of conjecture."

"I hoped that the Ring was given to Isildur's son, Valandil, as it should have been. But this night, this hope was shaken. Did any of you feel the presence of the Ring at the reception? I didn't, and I always feel it most keenly."
"Then, when the talk was skillfully brought to the subject, the King displayed no emotion. You know," continued the Captain gravely, "even the Dark Lord himself couldn't remain indifferent when referring to Ash Nazg. Nobody can, who has ever seen or touched it. "

Aiwendis looked at the Captain. There was deep longing in his eyes, perfectly reflected in the eyes of the others. No woman could ever trouble them so...

The Captain continued. "So, most likely, Valandil has never SEEN the ring, perhaps he hasn't even HEARD about it".

"Viv couldn't remain silent any longer. "I have searched his house, while he was away! I found nothing."

The Captain frowned at the interruption, then nodded. "Even if the Ring belonged to him, I doubt he would bear leaving IT at home, much less at Annuminas or Rivendell. Have you ever parted with your Rings, while you were living men? No, you always kept it with you."

"Then where is the Ring?" asked Tolvadok.

"It must be in Rivendell. It is more than likely that the Ring was brought there along with Narsil. But the Elves must have denied Valandil his legacy. The broken sword was all that he got. Unless, the Elves had killed Isildur themselves and taken the Ring."

"And what if the Ring is indeed lost, as men of Gondor think? What if it is in the River?" asked Aiwendis in a shaky voice.

The Morgul Lord's eyes were cold again. " Have you ever seen a Ring of Power slipping from someone's finger? The Rings look after themselves, the Ash Nazg even more so. If the Ring is in the River and even the Elves were unable to find it, then we have nothing to worry about. It is the best hiding place possible. But we cannot trust this false security! We must know for certain!"

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

"I agree," said Khamûl. "I feel the Ring keenly when it is with 10 leagues of me. It is not here in Tharbad, and I very much doubt it is in Annuminas either. I suspect the elves of Imladris. There is great power in that valley, and not least that of Master Elrond. If one of power comes to wield it then they could have the power to destroy us if they so wished. We need the Ash Nazg back. I for one am not willing to see myself or certain others here destroyed because of an elf."

[Udukhaturz]

The Morgul Lord stared down into his wine goblet, watching the contents swirl as he slowly twirled the goblet in his hand. He concentrated his thoughts on Aiwendis, who was cringing beside Udu on the settee. Upset by Tolvadok’s burning stare, she had sought sympathy from Udu but had received only a glare in return.

My dear, you must be pleasant to Tolvadok. Your reactions are all too obvious. He glanced over to her and smiled coldly. Can you not find better use for all your feminine wiles? I am not altogether pleased with your attempts to beguile the king, either. Get a hold of yourself, my dear. Surely, you can do better than this.

He looked up from the wine goblet and regarded all their faces in turn. “You have asked a very good question, Lord Udukhatûrz. Be secure in knowing for now that you are part of a great plan, and more will be revealed to you later.� He did not like the sullen look on Udu’s face, but the Morgul Lord’s cold eyes revealed nothing. He knew that Udu really had no choice in carrying out any plans that the Morgul Lord devised. Really, none of them did. The Ring of greatest power was his to command.

"Lord Khamûl, if the Ring were here in Tharbad, both of us would have sensed it. It is not here."

The Captain’s gaze settled on Tolvadok. “It is well that you have returned to us. Your zeal for the Master and your willingness to find Ash Nazg and return it are quite admirable.� He looked around at the others again. “It would be well if all were as eager as you, Lord Tolvadok and you, Lord Khamûl."

He turned to Lilaenwen. "You and Buzukkumarz are never to do such a thing as you did today. We must be united and not turning against each other. Should you conspire in your minds to inflict damage upon another of us, I will deal with you myself, and I doubt you would enjoy that," he warned. "Let it stay there and let us resolve to do better. We have other concerns.

"Some of you, though,� he said, “stray a little far from the path and let their involvement with mortals jeopardize the integrity of our quest.� He sipped from his wine goblet and his cold voice was harsh. “Your primary dealings with mortals should be to bend them to whatever use they might be to us. That is their only value!

“Lords Khamûl, Buzukkumarz, Tolvadok and Udukhatûrz, for the time, attend to your responsibilities here. Keep King Valandil and his friends under surveilance, but discreetly. Whatever you do,� he looked towards Khamûl, “do it neatly and do it well, and attract no attention whatsoever. I doubt that we have heard the last of that yet.� He drank from his goblet again. "The Elves amongst us, especially Professor Mahtaliel, are potentially dangerous. Watch them, but always be most polite. Elves value that... and flattery.

"My lords, keep your gear packed, your weapons ready, your minds well in control, and be ready at a moment’s notice to leave this city and go wherever I might send you. If you are employed as a professor here, beg off as being sick or having to visit friends in the country. Any excuse you might have to be away. All of you have a purpose,� he emphasized.

The Captain looked around the room again and his smile was not too unpleasant. “Lady Aiwendis, Lilaenwen and Viniglaen, the beauty of all three of you is superb, without compare. No mortal woman is quite so fair. Use your beauty, use your wit, and as the saying goes, wrap the mortals around your little fingers with your charm. Have them eating out of your hands as you would lapdogs. All mortals can prove useful, but some far more than others.

His eyes became far away and he thoughts were hidden to all. “Think of it,� he said out loud, “Ash Nazg and its power.� He looked down to his own Ring, which sparkled brightly on his finger. “Think of the power.�

Udukhatûrz thought to himself and tried to guard his mind tightly. “Yes, and, no doubt, my lord, you could see it upon your own finger if you could and have us as your fawning slaves!�

The Black Captain stood up. “I propose a toast. To the Master! To Ash Nazg and to our success!� The others rose to their feet and lefted their goblets in the air. Then when the Morgul Lord had drained his goblet dry, the others drank theirs. “Please sit back down,� he said, “and enjoy the rest of the night.�

[Lotesse]

"I will enjoy nothing until we all come to a consensus, as one body," said Viniglaen, refusing yet to sip to the toast. " Until we have all, with our Lord's approval and consent, agreed upon a singular path of action."

The room was eerily quiet, for a long moment.

"And," Viv continued, "If we are to in fact find this notoriously slippery Ash Nasg, has it occured to anyone to either dive ourselves, perish the thought, or hire someone to dive for us to search the riverbed floors of the Anduin for the One Ring, if indeed it has loosed itself from the finger of that moron Isildur?"

Nobody had anything to say to this.

"And about mortals," continued Viniglaen, " I have recently become more close than comfortable if that's how it can be described, with a very important and strategically ideal mortal," and at this point Viv turned her emphasis to her Lord. She continued. "The mortal man I speak of is Raendil, the close childhood friend to Valandil, Isildur's son. And he invited me to a horse-race tomorrow, early morning. Oh - I forgot to mention, he also gifted me with an actual Meara, and a phenomanal one at that who finds no fear in me at all, my Lord. She's a beautiful horse. Just beautiful."

A heavy pause of thought-rumbled silence ensued, before the Morgul Lord voiced his response.