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wildestlogs2022-01-25 06:56 pm
wildestmods) wrote in wildestlogs2022-01-25 06:56 pm
Entry tags:
MANY MEETINGS
MANY MEETINGS
The fortunate thing about the path to Rivendell is how easy it is to find the way there after a point. The great river Bruinen, too difficult to cross at most points, intersects the road, forcing them to scout up and down the river to find the road, which leads to the shallow ford across.
The only problem with taking the road is that it's being watched. They hear the screeching of the Nazgul, enraged that they've made it so far with with none of the Morgul blade victims succumbing to their injuries.
They come pouring down the road behind them as they make their way over, dividing into threes so that a wall of black-robed nightmares start to cross the ford.
"Come back! Come back!" they call, beckoning towards the injured. Those that are close to turning will feel the compulsion to come to them, their will challenged by the strong will if many nightmares. "To Mordor we will take you!"
But the second the last of them crosses and gets far enough up the bank, there is a great rushing sound of water and the river churns with foam. With a mighty road, the river widens to almost twice its usual width in an instant. A wave of rising water surges down the river, then another, and another, piling on top of each other. The third wave drags branches and detritus and even entire small trees.
The Nazgul scramble back to the other bank behind them, but the rising waters and widening river are too quick for them. Their feet get swept out from under them and the entire group of Nazgul get swept off down the river, black robes disappearing under the foamy waters.
Then there is one path forward - finally - to a place of rest. They take a winding path, turn around a stone wall, and see...
The Last Homely House rises up in a valley filled with many waterfalls, gleaming in the early afternoon light. An intricate set of buildings, with spiraling wood on the railings and awnings sits on the edge of a cliff, the water flowing through many channels and bridges.
The path eventually turns into a stone bridge, that leads to several large circular stone areas, large enough to allow them all to stand together. Many stairs lead up to the halls proper.
Those that are far gone, close to succumbing to the shard will now have icy blue eyes and pale skin, and the Elves and the great halls ahead of them will glow with a painful, blinding light. They'll also find those of their comrades with holy powers or holy weapons glow with a similar light, though somewhat dimmer. Only the holiest among them glow as bright or brighter than the Elves.
The Elves are beautiful in a way that seems otherworldly, moving with grace and purpose, a light almost seeming to come off them even in the eyes of those not afflicted with blade shards.
They come running down the stairs towards them. Some are armed guards, some are not. The ones that aren't armed are already in coarser silks with little white aprons tied over top. They are healers - though none have the same abilities as their Lord - and they expect bloody work to lie ahead of them.
"They have arrived, like the human said they would." Gary had run ahead, an entire marathon, to get Little Cato to the Rivendell faster. "Notify Lord Elrond and inform the healers! Gather stretchers and carry the wounded to the healing halls. Make haste! The ones injured with Morgul-blades have little time to spare!"
"Tell the kitchens to start preparing food, and tell the quartermaster some of them may need new clothes shortly. Also notify Erestor, he said he'd talk to the others to arrange for baths."
Stretchers are brought down and Elves immediately start trying to get the injured into them. They seem to have no issue carrying even the heaviest among them, and bring larger stretchers for the larger members of the squad.
But there's a bit of tension as they're being loaded into them.
The guards wind up on edge as they stare down the group.
"There's something wrong. The human said nothing about this. Some of you have a fell air about you." They place their hands on their sword hilts but don't draw their weapons yet. "We'll tend to the injured regardless of what we can see of their true nature, especially since they have little time and can render no harm in their current state, but the rest of you need to explain. What are you?"
❧ Threadjumping free-for-all post. Characters can threadjump to their heart's content, comforting the injured before they're carried off and trying to work through this spot of tension with the Elves. The mods will occasionally tag in with the Elves. Treat this like a network post where people can threadjump to their heart's content.
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Elle squares her shoulders and steps forward. Her tone matches that of the elves; aloof and confident.]
The Green saw fit to give some of our group magical abilities. They had no control over what they were given, but they have been in control of themselves.
Look around, you'll see the ones glowing with purity interacting with those marked by darkness without fear. Our actions are far more telling of the nature of our souls than whatever aura you sense.
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"The Green has done this?" The Elf is now more concerned than angry. "Ill tidings, that they would inflict such a thing on the unwilling."
The Elf shares a few quiet words with some of the remaining Elves.
He holds out a hand to her, one politely urging patience.
"Once we gather more information, a messenger will be sent to our Lord. He cannot meet with you himself if the injured are to be tended to, at least not yet. He is the greatest healer among us and if any of these other wounded are in the condition the child you sent ahead was in, he will be sorely needed." The stretcher-bearing Elves have already jogged most of them up the sairs. "But they'll ask him how we're to proceed."
He shakes his head.
"Even at worst, it is doubtful he'll turn the rest of you away, or withhold his hospitality in ensuring your needs are met. Nor will he deign to withhold supplies upon your leaving our valley. But if he urges caution, your movements inside Rivendell will be limited until your wounded are fully recovered and you're sent on your way."
Outright attacking them at least seems to not be an option. The hands on the hilts of their swords seems to just be them being ready in case of an attack.
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She is about to step back into the group, but pauses and turns back to the Elves.
"Tell your Lord that even those that even those who are tainted are to be treated with kindness and dignity," her tone brooks no room for argument. "Any slight against them is a slight against all of us."
It's not a threat-- not quite. Instead, it's stated as fact.
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He shakes his head.
"That the Green would do this to the unwilling means there is no fault in those afflicted."
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There are some serious bags under Dick's eyes, given that he's barely been sleeping since Tim's condition worsened. Still, he pulls himself up to his full height, something like hope blooming in his chest again.
They've made it to Rivendell. There's a CHANCE, at least, of their people being okay. Of Tim being okay. It's enough to keep him going for the moment.
"The Green isn't well known in my world, but it has agents. I'm not sure I'd call all of them 'good', though that's more in how they use their powers than in what those powers are."
Anybody coming for Kon would find themselves having to go through him.
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But she doesn't want to show potential weakness in front of the Elves, though, so she leaves it. For now.
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