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

[Valandil]

Between times of very deep sleep when he would snore more loudly and deeply than usual, Valandil tossed and turned in his lighter sleep, muttering, "Earndis.... Aiweniel...."

Suddenly, he jumped up with a start, "EAIWERIANDIELS!!"

He was awake now, sitting up, breathing hard, clutching the covers up against himself. He soon recovered though. 'It was just a dream then... such a dream!'

He relaxed and sat back against the headboard and his eyes looked about the room. It was still dark, but a touch of gray lightened the sky out his window. He saw the familiar sights of his bed chamber - and the outer garments he had removed and folded neatly, stacked on a chair. Over the back of the chair hung... the sword!

Valandil bolted up from bed and was at the chair right away, but then paused for a moment to look the sword over. He reached out slowly, picked up the belt to which it was strapped and sat at the edge of his bed. He held it by the sheath, pommel up, then placed a hand on the hilts and pulled the sheath down to observe the entire sword. Marvelous workmanship! And it gleamed in what little light there was in the room. Finally, he placed both hands on the pommel and directed his thoughts toward it.

'Well,' he heard in his mind, 'you're back now... and we are alone, are we not? No longer among enemies. Who are you now?'

'We are alone, but I knew of no enemies from before. I am Valandil, youngest son of Isildur. My father... and my elder brothers... are gone. I am King, and you, my father's sword, have come to me.'

'Valandil? The small child we left in Imladris?' There was a pause. 'I was called by your father Ithilmegil... The Moon Sword. And 582 moons it has been since he laid me aside. We were fresh from battle once more, and I felt renewed... striking Orc flesh again, drawing Orc blood... after 22 moons of peace, it was like the 93 moons of war all over again! But... he set me aside and I never felt his hand again. I felt him in you though, the moment you touched me.'

There was an awkward silence. Finally Valandil asked, puzzled, 'What of these 'enemies' you sensed about us before? What do you know of them? How certain were you?'

'There is no doubt. I have smote them before, and we counted them as we struck them... never do I forget a foe, especially a foe so fey. Yet you have escaped them? Charmed must you be, more than your father even?'

'I knew not that I was ever in peril. You cautioned me of something else... when I was to take a drink and start the evening.' Valandil paused once more, trying to make sense of his suspicions. 'After draining the cup, I found a gem... a topaz, at the bottom. Was there evil in that?'

Was the sword laughing? 'No... no evil in that, except perhaps to thwart another. Certain gems can diminish the effects of magic potions... or augment them...'

'...most notably a love potion. You, my new master... seem to have fallen for the oldest trick in the book!' thought the sword and then Valandil was certain that the sword chuckled.

'What can I do?' asked Valandil.

'Well... (and the sword seemed to do the mental equivalent of clearing its throat) I know something of these things. Someone may have worked mischief with that cup. You were not poisoned, or you would be dead. So whatever other effects were planned - we can perhaps amend. Take me to whatever serves you for a laboratory, or a kitchen around here and I will instruct you in making a proper concoction. It will be unpleasant, but you must allow it to do its work. Once you are purged, you can further halt the effects by consuming great quantities of water and of wine. But still... you may not be totally out of the woods, kid. Come now, let's go.'

'One thing more though,' continued the sword. 'One of those enemies from moons gone by... has been in this very chamber... not very long ago... less than a moon.'

Valandil put on a housecoat against the chill air and carried his sword to the kitchen. If Mahtaliel was truly an Elf of Eregion, and if she had anything to do with the topaz... was there some struggle going on among the Elves over him? Well... he could sort that out later.

'What a RUBE!' thought the sword. 'Now this is going to be fun!'

[Gordis]

Tolvadok glared at Viniglaen. It was the first time he has seen one of the nazgul refuse a toast to the Dark Lord.

The Captain stood obviously annoyed while Viv made her speech. A heavy pause of silence ensued. Finally, he replied, in a voice dry as Mordor dust.

"Viniglaen, you hardly paid enough attention to what I have been saying. The One Ring is not "notoriously slippery", and all of us know it full well. Has your Ring ever slipped from your finger, against your will? Never. All this story is a lie, made up by Elves, only good enough to fool mortals. No Elves were seen diving at the Gladden for the Ring. They didn't even bother to search for Isildur's body! That means one thing: they already have the Ring, and do not care for the body of the one who has thwarted them once."

"Now about mortals," continued the Morgul Lord. " The one you spoke about is indeed "very important and strategically ideal". Raendil, the friend to Valandil, is invaluable as informant. Moreover, he must have easy access to Rivendell, if he so wishes. Therefore, your actions in ensnaring him are most commendable. You will get all the assistance from the other Eight that you might need".

With that, the Captain scanned the circle of attentive faces with his penetrating eyes.

[CrazySquirrel]

"And what about Valandil himself?" cried Lilly. Her backside hurt royally, but she was not one to remain silent. "He proved most amenable to my charms. I can easily get acquainted with him through Marty, the other King's friend. I am sure, I can ensnare him easily." She adjusted her tattered pink gown in most ladylike fashion.

The Morgul Lord frowned at another interruption. "Lilaenwen, I formally warn you. Your actions were most deplorable lately, putting our Quest in jeopardy. From now on, you should receive my special permission before carrying out any of your stupid schemes."

Lilly opened her mouth to protest, but a curt gesture from the Captain stopped her.

"Don't interrupt me! The King will not marry you. He will never even consider doing it. You are most fair and attractive, I give you that, but you are half-Easterling, Lilly, and you are a commoner. This match is simply impossible, as it goes against all laws and customs of the Royal family. Believe me, I know what I am speaking about." A wintry smile appeared on the Captain's lips.

"The best you could do, Lilaenwen, is to continue your "friendship" with the other King's friend you just mentioned. This Martalion is as valuable to us as Raendil. If both of them are secured, the King will be caught in our nets.

"And what about the King?" squealed Lilly, nonplussed. "Are you leaving him for Gordie? So, she is good enough to become the Queen, and I am not? Why do you always choose her over us? Is it because...?" At this moment Lilly felt her tongue frozen in her mouth and stopped perforce. Aiwendis turned red, the Morgul Lord glared at Lilly, and Lilly glared back, now mute.

"I am afraid, Lilaenwen, that I made a mistake interrupting your well-deserved punishment," hissed the Morgul Lord. Khamul's eyes lit up at that observation. He got up and approached Lilly, grinning cruelly. Lilly was instantly subdued and lowered her head abjectly.

[Gordis]

Seeing Lilly's submission, the Morgul Lord waved Khamul away. He approached the window and stared at the thick drawn curtains for some time.

"No more talk today. The dawn is approaching,, we must be off.
Lords Tolvadok and Udukhaturz, follow me to the University. Come, Aiwendis."

Turning to Khamul, the Morgul Lord continued "Lord Khamul, you remain the head of the Orrodel group. Lilaenwen, Buzukkumarz and Viniglaen are your responsibility. Keep them in line, but refrain from unnecessary cruelty. All the problems should be reported to me immediately. I wish you all good night."

Khamul and the others bowed, and the Morgul Lord nodded in acknowledgement. The four nazgul slowly disappeared from the World of Light.

Invisible, they descended the stairs and went out through the back door this time, led by Udu. In ten minutes they reached the University, entering by the East gate. The ghosts and fairies left the pre-dawn garden, leaving only swirling mist in their wake. Aiwendis bowed silently and went to her apartment, while the Morgul Lord lead the way to the Professor's rooms, Tolvadok and Udu following. Entering an empty apartment, next door to Udu, the trio became visible again.

"My Lord Tolvadok, said the Captain. We have no more vacancies for Professors, unless you wish to teach Swamp Ecology. But you may be a visiting scholar born in the North and with a degree from the Pelargir University. You came here to read rare manuscripts in the library. Please, think of a suitable name to use in Tharbad. Now I must be off. See you in the morning."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

----

[Udukhaturz]

Tharbad University
Visiting Professors’ Apartments
Near dawn after the night of the reception

After returning to the university, Udu had bade the Morgul Lord and Tolvadok goodnight and went into his apartment. He stood quietly a moment listening and then muttered a warding spell of protection about his apartment. He smiled as a pale blue mist slowly encircled the room and then faded. “Peace at last,� he thought.

He took off his sword, sheath and belt, wrapped the sheath and sword and the belt and put them on top of the table near his bed. He unsheathed a dagger from his belt and placed it beside the other objects. He flexed his muscles up and down his back and arms. He had been uncomfortable trapped in that spell of chains which had been put on him by Khamûl. He walked over to the wine cabinet, bent down and smiled at the ample contents. After taking a bottle from the cabinet, he retrieved his empty goblet, sat down and refilled it.

He was glad to be away from Orrodel and did not look forward ever to going back. He laughed when he thought of the look on Khamûl's face when he had attempted to cut his throat. "Surprised," Udu mused. "He had that coming to him for a long time."

Udu took off his boots and put them beside the chair. He sat, sipping his wine and stretching his feet. After drinking almost a whole bottle, he walked over to his bed, took off his clothes, tossed them to a chair and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over himself. He dared anyone to disturb him before he was ready to get up for the day.

The wine cabinet was full. He would not go out until the afternoon. Perhaps he would explore the city. His two favorite wives back in the East would be pleased if he brought back a momento of his trip in the west. He would seek a jewelery maker and see if he could find something that would please them. Udu smiled at the knowledge that he would not be disturbed, and thought about the jewelry he might purchase for them. Now if he could, he would sleep; he could not remember the last time that had been.

[Rían]

On the way to Orrodel Mansion from the park
dawn, Monday


As they started to head towards Orrodel, RÃ*an, who was very close to her big brother, just couldn't stop herself from gazing at him again. The light was growing, and she smiled as her eyes ran across the well-loved features.

The light grew a bit brighter, and she made an exclamation of disgust and impatience.

"Men!" she said and rolled her eyes, picking up one of his plaits and holding it up in the air like it was a dead rat. "When's the last time you braided your hair, the middle of the Second Age?"

Tyaron suddenly realized there were advantages to having no surviving female relatives, and turned his face slightly aside to hide a snicker, for he knew what was coming.

Eärniel prepared to enjoy the upcoming sibling battle. Knowing her friend's enjoyment of all things hair, as well as her stubbornness, she was confident that RÃ*an would eventually win. She would see what type of fighter Alagos was, what tactics he would choose, and how soon he would cave in to the inevitable.

The elves, having a lot of time on their hands, tended to be somewhat obsessive about things artistic, and in Gondolin, one way this manifested itself was in hair braiding. Pengoloð, the sage of Gondolin, describes in his histories how the elves, both male and female, had beautiful hair, and notes that Fingon, one of the great High Kings of the Noldor, "wore his long dark hair in great plaits braided with gold."

If it were left up to the men, the plaiting would be mostly, if not entirely, for practical reasons (having a weapon in one hand and a shield in another left no hands for brushing hair out of your eyes), but the women didn't leave it up to the men, the result being that men's braids ranged from simple but neat(normal days) to amazingly intricate and signifying all sorts of things, such as battle skill rankings, battles participated in and types of weapons one was qualified at, to families, interests, and hobbies. There was even a small "underground" set of styles that were the elvish equivalent of "wanted - single elvish female, must like stars and moonlight walks on the wall of Gondolin" that were surreptitiously added AFTER the mothers had finished their sons' hair, and that changed periodically when enough mothers discovered them.

On the morning of a High Feast day, one could walk about the city, especially among the houses of the higher-up families, and hear numerous masculine moans of "Oh, MOTH-er, hurry up, please!!", and occasionally see a comb go flying out of an upper-story window. However much the men groaned at this custom, though, they DID tolerate it, because they loved their womenfolk and realized that this was a way they showed their love to their men (and there weren't THAT many High Feasts that called for all-out hair braiding). And secretly, it WAS rather fun for them to roll their eyes and complain to a buddy, "Sheesh! Now that I qualified for the third-level swordsman class, it took my mother 20 more minutes to braid my hair!" (It also gave the mothers a chance to say things like, "Well, with BOTH of my sons qualifying at archer second class, I"ll have to start extra early with the braiding this year! How did YOUR sons do?")

Alagos decided to hit hard and hit fast. "My hair is just FINE, sister - I'm still alive, after all, even after all these years! It's off my face and easy to keep up, and I like it that way!" He glared down at her, but RÃ*an was not so easily intimidated when it came to the hair of the people she loved.

"Well, YOU might like it that way, but YOU don't have to look at it!" she shot back. "You look like something the hounds dragged in! And as far as easy - I'll do it FOR you, your poor little thing, so you won't have to trouble yourself!" She dropped the plait like hot lembas and rolled her eyes again.

Alagos decided to change tactics and try distraction, in the vain hope his sister might forget. "Well, maybe, but you need to take care of things at Orrodel right now, and then we need to go get something to eat." That was a mistake, and RÃ*an pounced.

"You want to go into town looking like THAT?!" she cried out in amazement. "Alagos, you look so nice when I do your hair - please let me do it, at least just a simple set of braids off your face, before we go into town!" She looked up at her brother with pleading eyes, but Alagos set his jaw stubbornly.

They were almost at Orrodel, and Eärniel decided to step in. "RÃ*an, why don't you just run in and arrange things at Orrodel while we wait, and then we really DO need to get moving - we have to get to class, don't you remember? Save the braiding for a time when you can do it right, or we'll be late for our first day of classes! You'll just get frustrated if you have to stop half-way."

RÃ*an sighed - what Eärniel said made sense. "I guess you're right, Eärniel," she said in resignation. She slipped her little hand into Alagos' big, strong one and said, giving it a gentle squeeze, "But please can I do it tonight? Not all the details, but just our family pattern? It just" - she paused and looked down, for it was an emotional subject, and then lifted her lovely eyes back up to him and continued with just a little quaver in her voice - "helps me remember our home."

Alagos's doom was sealed.

"All right, little sister, but just the family pattern!" he said, then turned to glare at the grinning face of Tyaron. "You might as well give me your blades, Tyaron," he added (most men sat down to a braiding session with a whetstone and their collection of blades).

"Thanks, but I might need them today," answered Tyaron. He turned to RÃ*an. "May I borrow Hwesta while you're at the University?"

"Certainly, whenever you want to!" she replied, curious to where he might be going. "She's at the blacksmith's; I'll send a note over to let them know to expect you."

As they came up to Orrodel, a cat ran frantically across their path, possibly in search of a mouse.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

The watered down sunlight streaming across her desk alerted Mahtaliel to the time. Inwardly cursing she glanced at the clock, six hours after midnight, time to begin the day and she had yet to finish her last...

There was naught else for it, the paperwork would have to wait. If she hurried she would only just have time to attend to things. She needed to deliver the new supplies to Fionne and Ignatius.

Two of the first students she had taught in Tharbad. Tired of the lack of education available to the working class citizens, Fionne and Ignatius had started the first public school in Tharbad. It had survived for nearly a decade now and was open to anyone willing to learn. Fionne and Ignatius charged no tuition, which made getting supplies and space difficult. Mahtaliel always made sure to provide help to them in this quarter.

This was the real reason she had asked the Chancellor to increase her department's budget. His predecessor had known of Mahtaliel's aid to the public school and surrepticiously approved of it, he had always included a little extra, to ensure that she could support it without too much trouble.

Under the current Chancellor this extra had gone to the more warlike departments. After two years of trying to cover the difference out of her salary, Mahtaliel had resorted to drastic measures to demand and plead for what had formerly been freely given.

She had gotten what she needed, this year the school would have no trouble.

But first she had to deliver the supplies.

Hurriedly she stood and ran upstairs, grabbing the bags full of teaching materials which she had carefully packed the previous afternoon she rushed back down and out the door. If she was quick she would be able to make it down to the lower part of town and back again before half past eight, which was when she expected someone from the Watch to be by to pick up their repaired armor. Then the meeting with Lady Rian at around nine-
Thank the Valar her first class wasn't till ten...

[CrazySquirrel]

Orrodel, predawn hour of Monday, next day after the Reception

The cold hour before dawn was passing. The house at Orrodel stood silent. Melwen slept soundly in her bed, exhausted and half-drugged bt Zimra's soothing cordial. There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a cock crowed far away. Suddenly the maid sat bolt upright, clutching the bedcovers to her. Someone called her. She was asleep, but the words she heard still resonated in her brain. "Melwen, my darling, come down please, I want to explain..."
Arastud! Who else could that be? Melwen's face felt hot with embarrassment, when she remembered the events of the night. How COULD she? He was so nice to come, she would have never dared to face him again otherwise.


Fumbling frantically in darkness, Melwen dressed and combed her hair. There was no mirror, but she was used to do without. Carrying her shoes in her hand, she passed by Zimra's door, descended the stairs and went out into the court. She peered around in a faint pre-dawn light but saw nobody. Suddenly she felt cold and very frightened. She was turning to run back into the safety of the house, when strong hands caught her arms in a vice-like grip. Melwen tried to scream, but no sound came. . She felt her tongue cleave to her mouth, and her heart labouring. Unseen arms were quickly propelling her forward, out of the yard, through the empty corridor, into the back street and on and on.

All her body was numb with terror, only her legs moved automatically. She couldn't even turn her head to look at her silent attackers She felt there were two man, one walking on either side of her, gripping her arms. She could even tell that the one on the right was taller than the one on the left. Squinting her eyes she looked left and right, but saw nothing. There was nobody there, she could see the street and houses along it, but she couldn't see men that were pulling her along like an inanimate object.
Her terror intensified, her heart almost bursting.

Melwen was native of Tharbad, so even in her terror, she recognized the familiar landmarks. They were walking through narrow streets, the high Wall of the University on their left. Soon they were on Menetar, the main Tharbad Street. Flanked by her unseen kidnappers, Melwen was half-stumbling - half-running towards the Bridge. The passers-by were still few in this early hour. A drunken sailor noticed a comely maid and shouted a bawdy jibe at her, but she was running so fast, that he soon abandoned his idea to chase after her.

Soon they passed the Red Herring and came to the Bridge. At this moment she heard, or thought she heard a faint whisper, coming from one of her unseen attackers.

"Now, Buzukkumarz, you continue alone. I shall keep watch here."
The other sneered "Afraid of the water, are you?"

Melwen felt that one of the transparent men shifted behind her, and was now holding her by her elbows. But the grip on her arms was still crushing, and her body and tongue were as paralysed as before. Melwen's progress, however, slowed considerably.

A guard was standing near the door of his guard-post at the entrance of the bridge, scanning the passer-byes. He noticed a girl, walking unsteadily towards the bridge. He thought lazily of questioning her, but many a girl wandered over the bridge at night to meet with Gondoreans on the other bank. That one was too late, though, and clearly drunk or ill. The guard made a step forward, when suddenly a loud howl from behind made him jump and turn. His old dog was howling, as it there were a dead body around. As he watched, the dog ran into the house, his tail behind his legs. Puzzled, the guard was going to follow the dog in, to see what was wrong. When he cast the last glance at the bridge, the girl was almost halfway to the other bank. The Gondorean guards, much more vigilant, were barring the way at the other end, clearly determined to question her.

But the girl didn't reach the other bank. She was standing on the parapet now, swaying precariously. The guards from both ends of the bridge rushed forward, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, the girl swung forward, stiff like a log, and went down into the swift deep waters of the Gwathlo.

"It can't be happening", thought Melwen, right before her scull crushed and her brain spilled onto the protruding bridge abutment.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Travelling to Orrodel
Shortly after dawn. (Before Rian returns to Orrodel)

"It is done," said Buzukkumarz, returning to the unseen Khamul on the near side of the bridge.
"Good, you have done well this time Buzukkumarz," replied Khamul. "Now we must return. I fear we have an unwanted elf returning to our house."
Quickly and silently they returned, hoping not to pass to near to anyone who had the power and ability to sense them there. They returned they same way they had came, the scenice route, deciding it not wise to pass by next to where King Valandil and his advisor's lived. There were those in there that could have sensed the two Nazgul pass by, no matter how silent they were. After going round the back of the University and passed a row of expensive houses, they arrived at Orrodel and entered through the back of the house.
Khamul went straight to his room and clothed himself. He could sense something. Four elves. Two of them he recognised, but the other two were new, possibly dangerous. Having to think on his feet Khamul left his room and headed for Lily's boudoir, where Buz had headed the minute they had arrived back.
"Come you two. You will need to see this," he said natter of factly, without even knocking.
By the time Lily and Buz arrived downstairs Khamul was near the door and Rian was approaching, with the other three waiting at the end of the lane. Lily flinched slightly at the sign of more elves, obviously wondering whether or not they would be a threat to their mission and would be able to blow their cover.
"Rian. Who do you bring to my house, with out my permission."
"I bring no one to your house, Professor Galaddanun. I am walking on a public street with my friends," said Rian, with a slight sound of contempt in her voice.
"Now Rian I ask you again. Who are these people are that you bring so close to my property," said Khamul.
"I was not away that it was your business Professer Galadannun," replied Rian.
"It is my business when my house keeper is late for work and turns up witha party of elves at her heel," he replied curtly, despartly trying to find out whether the two he had not yet met were of the Blessed Realm and would see through their disuises.. "Now I repeat who are they."
"Lady Earniel who I believe you have met. One of the other is a friend of old from Gondolin and the other is my brother," called Rian, obviously annoyed with her employer, but seeing no reason to not answer.
"Are they of noble lineage? Should I preparemy house for honoured guest," called back Khamul, trying to find out whether or they were present in both worlds.
"We are all of the noble houses of Gondolin," replied Rian.
Still unsure Khamul chanced a quick look outside at the elves. Nothing. No shining bright lights. Khamul breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe, for now.

[Butterbeer]

"you don't say?"

said constable BB, still half awake and not best happy at being called from his warm bed and frisky young wife this morn: he had had a veritable sackful the night before and with Elmir Phudd away hunting and the Guv not in the watch tower just now had planned a long lie-in this very morn.

" i do! and i mean what i says what's more" replied the Guard, young Aratwit

Constable BB, looked at Aratwit (called by most just 'twit' or 'Big twit' since he was so fat!) rubbing his eyes and trying for a third time to focus properly ...

... now what was this nonsense all about really?

He was thinking of a warm hearth (not for the first or last time i am sure), some freshly baked bread and butter, with a warm drink ... when he noticed the uber-efficient (and to his mind rather pompous) southern Gondorian Guards marching from over their side of the bridge in step coming this way:

rubbing his eyes again he lazily noticed them kicking their legs out high up as was their wont ... arms rigidy swinging by their side ... their black uniforms and odd southern insiginia at odds somehow with their short shocks of blond hair ...now that was unusual thought the Constable ... what was it about those who joined this particular group stationed here?


choosing, (in the best traditions of the watch) to ignore them , he looked at Aratwit

"well, lad, we'll talk in a bit when we have some privacy ..." he casually nodded over at the approaching Gondorian guards

"how you geting on with those idiots anyway?"

"Well Barliman ..." (for that is what collegues called the Constable - his friends called him "Bingo" - but that's a whole other story ... )

"well ... not well, to be plain ... we are meaning to complain to captain Shah about them to be to the point! .. marching up and down all night, clinking and clanging around and barking orders ... at Night markyou!" said young Twit with an expression that clearly said "outreagous" ...

" how we supposed to sleep with all that nonsense going on, eh?" said Arartwit palintively...

" Ah!" said Constable BB, nodding ... he cast a surreptisous glance at the approaching Southern troopers ...

"Still call them the Clangers then?" said Barliman with a smile ...

"Hah!" laughed aratwit, smiling back ... "we did ... till the other night ... last wednesday t'was ..you know the night a storm blew up the greyflood? ... a mighty blast and bother that night was ... kept blowing out the fire and such unearthly howlings on the wind ... me and Dozy here ..." he looked down at his dog, old "dozy" who was looking up at Constable BB with "feed me eyes"

Barliman, gave him a pat and digging deep into his legendary deep and well stocked pockets pulled out a treat for Dozy ... he never did forget! ... course he forgot loads of things all the time ..but he had a fondness for animals, and old dozy in particular ...

Dozy barked a happy thanks and wagging his tail settled down at Barliman's feet ...

"me and Dozy here ... daren't look outside the postern - reet scary twas "

Arartwit paused ... "then long shanks came in to take over ... and he was a laughing so hard! they they were still out there marching up and down in the storm, helmets a blowin' off and cloaks skedaddling around like children's kites!"

"Now we call em' the 'storm-troopers!"

they both laughed: the constable with his deep booming rumble of a laugh and Twit with his high pitched nervous giggle ...

their revelry was rudely interupted by the captain of the storm troopers impatiently blowing his whistle ... they were standing exactly half way across the bridge, three of them upright and in rigid formation looking annoyed and awaiting permission to cross into the tharbad city half of the bridge ...

Constable BB, winked at Aratwit ...

"Got a brew on lad?"

[Butterbeer]

Boomerang flew over the river darting down as he saw the hated Gondorian guards on the bridge hooting eerily away on their whistles - the high pitched din annoyed him ... bloody clangers he thought ... till he remembered that the bridge owl, HiggleHoot, had told him our lads now called them the storm-troopers .... it seemed appropriate somehow ....


Boom was off to get some sleep - it had been a hectic night, the reception had been fascinating ... much to think over ... and reports of movements in the city over the night combined with his meeting of the Mountain guild's representatives and the news of the attempt on his life - that had caused such a short lived stir - had made him decide to cocoon up somewhere quiet for a few hours .... the quietest, warmest and nicest place would probably be the watch's front desk ... later he would seek out the arch-chancellor: the eighth had arrived ... and strange events had been observed from the skies ...

flying off, a sudden smile became a chuckle as he noticed the constable: "Bingo" his back turned to the storm troopers and obviuosly in no hurry to go anywhere just yet ....

.....................................

Ah, what a merry old fellow the arch-chancellor was, thought Sir bumbledore, thinking how kind it had been to give him a raise ... he hicupped unsteadily as he waited by the doors for the University rowing team, to come and carry him to his quarters: they would be quite drunk as usual he pondered ... still, each year he would sponsor them generously, he wondered casually if any of the new lads enroling up for commerce this year would be rowers?

Now.. he thought... i must chase up Jas tommorow ... and maybe that new fellow ... the one so impressively matching him and jas goblet for goblet .... what was his name?

... must find out what that wine was!

what had Jas said? .... something about a giant turtle? or was it over sea under sea? knowing jas and his red herrings ... probably both! Turtle indeed!

Well, time for bed, time and commerce waited for no man ... though his students often did!

Still his first class wasn't till Tuesday ... what had the arch-chancellor said? a big class this year? many young men were interested in commerce of course .... he wondered what his new intake would be like?

A bunch of thain's sons most likely ...

hiccuping he heard the raucous sounds of bawdy rowing songs approaching and smiled ... i do hope they don't toss me up again! .. i know it's traditional ...but as he got older he liked this particular tradition less and less ... oh well, he knew the university motto: ....

[Lotesse]

7 AM, Monday morning, Orrodel House

Viv had been able to get in an hour or so beauty-nap, after the Evil Conference and before her scheduled race with Raendil and Martalion. She had a sweet bubble-filled bath to wake up, and the servant-girl Zimra had been thoughtful enough to anticipate Viv's need for coffee - coffee and hot-baked crumpets had been brought to Viv's boudoir.

[Udukhaturz]

Tharbad University
Visiting Professors’ Apartments
10 o’clock in the morning - 12:15

Udu had been lightly dosing since he had returned to his room near dawn. Feeling an urgent need for a goblet of wine, he rose from his bed, dressed, poured a goblet of wine, walked over to his chair and tossed the wine down in a few swallows. He had no classes that day, for he had requested to be excused, feeling he needed to learn his way about the city. He arose from his chair, strapped on his belt and sword, took the key down from its hook, intoned a few words of warding about his room, then went out and locked the door.

He was not eager to talk to anyone, and so he quickly left the visiting professors’ area, walked past the university, and through the east gate. Then, circling around, he pulled his hood over his head before he passed by the Orrodel Mansion. He certainly wanted nothing to do with them, especially Khamûl, whom, he knew, would still be angry and possibly yearning for revenge. Yesterday, the day that he arrived in Tharbad, he had passed by a large house on the corner near the livery stables that interested him very much.

He strolled to the house and saw a discreet sign nailed up to a stake in the yard. The neatly lettered sign read, “For Sale. If interested, see SÃ*dhon and Son, Agents, Rath Roch.â€�

“Not too far,â€� he thought, and soon he was in the business establishment of SÃ*dhon and Son. There, he heard a sad tale about the wealthy couple who owned the structure. The mother and father had one son, a wastrel who had gambled away his substance and shamed the family. The knave had pledged to his aging parents that he would reform. The parents, however, fearing that the son would soon lapse into his old gambling ways, thought it best to leave the city and move elsewhere, thereby denying their son the rough louts who had been his companions. Udukhatûrz was pleased to find that all the servants had been dismissed. Old SÃ*dhon assured him that there were plenty of servants who could be hired in the city, and wrote down a list of names where he might check if he was interested in hiring anyone.

Even though old SÃ*dhon and his clerks had raised their eyebrows that Master Maethor would buy a house without ever looking inside it, still the man had been eager to buy the house. Soon Udu had the deed tucked into an inside pocket of his cloak, and a great key ring with at least thirty keys attached to a loop on his belt.

He strolled back to the house, opened the door and looked in, and was pleased to see that all the furniture that the elderly company had left behind had been covered with sheets to protect them from the dust. He walked all through the downstairs of the house, then walked up the large staircase to the upstairs. He had been told that several beds had been left behind by the family and that they were of good quality, some even having blankets and sheets stored in the linen closet. Udu found that it all had been as he had been told and remarked to himself, “Honest folk.�

After leaving the property, he walked to the livery stable and talked to the head ostler about the care of his mare. The ostler assured him that the mare had received proper food and exercise and would be in the prime of health whenever he wanted to ride. In all, his business lasted two hours, and it was now nearing time for the midday meal.

He sauntered over to Menetar Avenue and thought perhaps somewhere along that avenue, he might find a tavern. He had discovered that he had a terrible thirst that only ample amounts of wine could satisfy.

As he neared the Governor’s mansion, he began to walk faster, and pulled his hood down lower over his forehead. The two people Udu did not want to meet were the daughters of the governor, Miriel and Malaphel. He was relieved when he passed the governor’s mansion and he kept on walking. Surely there would be a tavern somewhere here.

Then he saw to his left what was obviously a drinking establishment. He looked at the sign. “Red Herring.� He would need to go back to the university to tell the Chancellor that he was moving and that he would pick up his property in his apartment. He could smell the water nearby and felt a vague discomfort, but nothing a bottle of wine would not cure. He heard a clock chime somwhere, a quarter past noon.

[Gordis]

Orrodel, Monday 7-9 AM

After serving breakfast to Lady Viniglaen, who has risen uncommonly early for a lady, Zimra went down to clean the kitchen. She decided to let Melwen sleep, she needed it after her fit last night.

The kitchen was a mess. Zimra frowned at the unwashed dishes and at the three empty bottles of kitchen wine.

Who had drunk them? No way the masters would drink kitchen wine, especially right there in the kitchen, for that matter.
Melwen surely couldn’t consume them all alone, poor fool. She must have been feasting with the stable boys, Arastud and his brother, what was his name again?

Having cleaned the kitchen and prepared more scones for Lady Lilly and her two brothers, Zimra went through the courtyard to the servant’s rooms to check on Melwen. But the room was empty, the bed unmade. Melwen must have dressed and gone. Zimra checked the servant’s quarters. There was nobody around. The housekeeper, Rian the Elf, was also missing.

Worried now, Zimra ran to the stables.
Arastud and his brother were grooming the horses. Zimra rushed to them.

"Where is Melwen?" she cried without greeting. "What have you done with her, you drunken rascals?"b

[Lotesse]

After finishing her bath, and donning a baby-blue soft summer-woolen riding outfit complete with black patent riding boots, black kidskin gloves, and tanzanite, topaz and mithril barrettes to hold back her long, wavy bangs, Viv went down to the stables to get Laslech ready for the race. She was brushing Laslech and picking her hooves, in Laslech's stall down toward the other end of the long stable-house, when she heard the servant-girl Zimra burst in and frantically exclaim to the stableboy, "Where is Merwen?"

'uh-oh,' thought Viv to herself, 'I sure hope the guys took care of her right. Last thing we need is a murder scandal.' Viv stopped brushing and rubbing and picking Laslech for a second, and remained still, so she could listen to what the help was saying about Merwen's disappearance.

[Butterbeer]

down at the bridge, Constable BB was wondering what time it was...

this insistent whistling by the gondorian idiots was starting to jarr on barliman's nerves till he realised most of it was Big twit's kettle...

waving a hand and signalling he was getting a drink to Captain Git-tenstein or whatever his outlandish southern name was ... he was glad when Aratwit and dozy came out of the postern and brought a steaming mug of khandian coffee and a jaunty wagging tail ...

"ahh, thankee indeed Aratwit ... well, best go and see what miladdo wants ..."

"do me a favour, lad, when you've drunk your mug there, run up to professor Mathaliel's and pick up the armour for the guv, will ee'? ... i'll chat to you in a bit about these sad goings on this morning"

Deciding not to bother walking over to the bridge centre he waved the gondorians over ... better this way he thought, they'll be in our duristication ...

cupping his hands around the steaming mug, he took a hearty sip, ahh! that's better he thought ... it was chilly still with a biting wind this morn ... there was still a bit of haze here down by the river ...

aratwit downed his mug and ambled, or waddled may have been a better description off to the university.

the three 'storm troopers' marched rigidly forward, legs kicking out and arms like pendulums ...

with a smart salute they stopped.

"well met Constable! " said the captain, somewhat stiffly in an odd guttural accent, he was still frowning ... he was a tall fellow, short cropped blond hair and blue eyes ... unusual indeed for a man of gondor thought barliman...

"wotcha!" he replied taking another hearty swig of coffee.

The Gondorian captain paused obviously expecting a salute ....

Barliman just eyed him astutely ...

"yes? well, my time is precious captain even if yours is not ..."

(he was thinking of a spot of breakfast at he Singing swan)

Looking as sour as a rotten lemon, the captain, scaresely civil spoke up:

"Constable, two of my guards have reported a fatality on the bridge this morning - a young girl, drunk by the looks of her has stumbled and fallen over into the river - My troops - "

he stopped abruptly as barliman almost coughed up his coffee, trying to hide his amusement ...

"My troops have fished her out downstream - she is dead! Do you require me to submit a full written report in triplicate?"

"have you owt else to add, lad?" enquired barliman, not liking the sound of triplicate or written report.

The captain froze ... bridling, he sharply cut off a an angry reply ...

"Only that they report she stank of wine!"

"Ahh!" muttered Constable BB ... " tis a most sad event - a broken heart maybe?"

distracted for a momment barliman was polite to the man ...

"well captain, i thank'ee for your report, i shan't need it in writing .. indeed it is most sad ... was she on er' own? Did she jump or stumble or what? What did your lads see?"

"from the reports i have constable she staggered across the bridge erratically, stumbled even as they rushed to her, and fell."

"indeed? well sounds like an open and shut case - most sad! I'll ave' dwimmerbusy the undertaker be reet over to attend her body - reet' well i'm a busy man ... "

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel had completed her delivery and made it back to the university in good time. This was fortunate as the Watch had sent one of their guardsmen earlier than she had expected. Unlocking the door to the forge she waited for the approaching guardsman to arrive before going in. It was one of the younger guards, chubby and lackadaisical looking. She would have to have a word with the Captain about that. Just because it was a time of peace was no excuse for laziness.

"Morning Professor!" he greeted her cheerfully, "Barliman sent me up for the armor."

"Right on time," She said, shooing the boy inside and following, letting the door swing shut behind her, "One moment, it's right over here... Tell me, what's the news this morning?"

Lifting the bundle carefully she carried over to the table. Best to check on last time before sending it back, and best to see if the boy would be able to carry it all...

"Bit of a do down at the bridge," he replied, "Those gondorians came over, didn't stay long enough to hear what they had to say."

"Don't they usually stick to their side of the bridge?" Mahtaliel asked, curious. Satisfied that all was in order, she repacked the armor and tied the resulting bundle tightly before handing it to the boy.

"Not so often as we'd like." He replied, taking the bundle, grunting slightly at the weight.

"Here," Mahtaliel opened the door at held it for him, "Good luck with those Gondorians, and tell Barliman and the Captain that they're to let me know if they need anything else done."

She followed him outside and watched as he made his way back to the south gate. Satisfied that he would make it back without dropping his load she glanced inside and checked the time. Nearly an hour before she was due to meet with Rian. Plenty of time for a walk around the the outside of the campus. Strolling out of the north gate she turned turned right, preferring to circle the campus clockwise.

[Rían]

In front of Orrodel Mansion
Monday at dawn

Khamul stepped outside. He was sick and tired of this elf, and did not want her in his house one moment more. And she might be dangerous to have around, too. What had Lilly been thinking when she hired her? But he would have to be careful. Lilly and Penny joined him, interested to see how the Lieutenant would handle things.

RÃ*an stepped away from Khamul just slightly as her friends joined her. She wasn't afraid, but she just didn't like to be close to this man whom she found so repugnant, both in the kitchen and at the Reception. She had made up her mind to quit, especially since the arrival of her brother and friend, but her sense of fairness and duty compelled her to not leave without proper notice and turning over of the house to some other manager.

The "late to work" comment irked her, though, for she had worked diligently and well, and she decided to address it. "I was NOT told that I had to be around Orrodel at any particular hour," she said with formal but cool politeness. "My job is to run the household, and run it well, and I have done that; which is especially commendable given the state of the house when I first arrived here. And AFTER I was hired by your sister on those terms, you gave me some additional terms, which I have met, also - there are now 2 maids and 2 stableboys here, and I am expecting 3 more potential maids here this afternoon for a further interview. You gave me three days to staff the house, Professor, and I have almost completed it in less than two."

Khamul was going to respond, but the thought of Melwen gave him so much pleasure that he stopped for a moment to contemplate it, smiling an evil smile.

A few curious on-lookers slowed down and pretended to examine the flowers across the street, but they could hear nothing clearly, and everything looked calm, so they soon moved on.

Seeing that Khamul didn't respond, RÃ*an continued quietly: "You have had your meals on time and well-cooked, and your rooms are clean," she said, "at least they were when we left them yesterday. I am here for a few moments to check up on breakfast preparations, which I settled with Zimra and Melwen last night, then I will be off to a meeting with Professor Mahtaliel. If you wish to discuss anything with me, then I will be happy to make an appointment with you. Or if my style of management displeases you, then I will be glad to leave Orrodel for other things."

Khamul was shaken out of his pleasant reverie - he had not been spoken to like this by a woman - and a stinking elf, at that! - for a long time, probably because most women who knew him well enough to speak to him haughtily also knew that he could kill them, and do it without any regrets or hesitation. His brief pleasure over the thought of Melwen evaporated. He was furious, and it showed in his eyes. His hands clenched ever so slightly, and Lilly flinched and stepped away just a bit. Alagos stepped closer to his sister with a protective look, and Tyaron quietly started evaluating their surroundings, in case it came to a fight. Buz sent an urgent thought to his superior - "Remember what the Chancellor said! Keep things quiet! We'll save this one for you, when the time is right, but not now!" Khamul, noticing the onlookers, slowly unclenched his hands, and a smile (which was far worse) appeared on his face.

Khamul took a breath, and then said quietly, in an icily polite tone, "You say you have done well, do you? Are we talking about the same Orrodel? For the one that I live in has servants going where they shouldn't at all hours of the night, and servants going missing, and wine bottles strewn around the kitchen. That is certainly not the mark of a good manager, wouldn't you agree? I heard that elves do not lie; is that true of the elves of Gondolin, too?"

Alagos's hand tensed and moved, but Tyaron, quick as lightning, stopped him, and said to him in a low but urgent voice, in an ancient dialect of Gondolin which few in Middle Earth now knew, "Brother! Do not sully your blade with the blood of this man - he is a woman-striker, a coward. Hark to the woman next to him - she flinches at his movement."

Alagos looked at Lilly, who was indeed shrinking away from Khamul's anger. He breathed hard, but stopped. Eärniel looked on, unsure what to do.

Khamul did not understand the language, but the look on Tyaron's face and the contempt in his voice was easy to read. The Morgul-Lord had commanded them to lay low, though, so they would have to not react ... for now, at least. The time would come... Khamul had to content himself with a silkily-veiled insult - he would not be the one to start anything, but if he could goad those elves far enough, it might come in handy some day. "Perhaps the elves of Gondolin have different standards of politeness than my people," he said in a smooth voice. "Among my people, it is considered the height of rudeness to speak in a language that is not known to the others present. But I suppose one must make allowances."

Tyaron said coldly, "I have indeed been rude by the standards of my people by doing this, but sometimes there are more important things than politeness. One must make allowances," he finished, copying Khamul's tone.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Passing by Orrodel on her walk, Mahtaliel had come up behind the group in time to hear this last exchange between Galadanunn and-

More elves? And from Gondolin by their dialect...!

She could only hope none of these newcomers would recognize her as a Feanorian. No time to wonder about that at the moment though. If Galadanunn intended to deliver insults to elves she certainly wouldn't stand by and allow him to do so unchecked.

"Indeed," she interrupted, startling all of them, "Allowances must be made, though not for certain people I could name," She glared hard at Galadanunn, "who stay up all hours of the night carousing and making much noise and then blame the resulting mess on their servants."

Turning to Alagos and Tyaron and bowed, hesitantly speaking in the dialect they had used, and which she knew a little of, having learned it from a friend in Imladris, "Welcome to Tharbad my friends, I would you had been greeted by some other than this man. He is new here, and knows little of politness."