Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010]

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Galadion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 17

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Mar 20, 2018 18:56:59 GMT -5

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Post by Galadion on Mar 20, 2018 18:56:59 GMT -5

A single downside came from the lack of knowledge of the area outside of his homeland. Sometimes you get lost whenever you're not paying attention, and such is what happened shortly after the young Ranger had emerged from the Firien woods. His travels were to take him eastwards and hopefully south into the lands of Gondor, but for a time he'd been headed north. The lands were of Rohan, he assumed, but the lack of individuals to question had made it difficult to gather any concrete answers. He was by all means rather lost, and if he were wise the young Ranger would've simply turned south at the first chance.

Yet all thoughts of turning south were routed from his mind after camping out along the banks of the Anduin, only to realize that he was not alone. He reacted quick and concisely to put out the small fire and conceal his location when he realized just what exactly it was that he was dealing with. He smelled them before he saw them; foul creatures of the dark had infested his small encampment only moments later, scavenging what supplies he left strewn across the ground before searching for the prey that lurked nearby. Galadion made sure his steps were quiet as he retreated away from the camp. He counted at least half a dozen, although their numbers would quickly drop down to four after two well-placed arrows found themselves wedged into the Orcs necks.

The darkness did well to conceal his escape along the river. He moved with haste for hours it seemed, and only stopped after he was mostly certain the small group of Orcs were too far away to spot him. He sat against a large oak for the remainder of the night, his bow clutched tightly within his hand despite his eyes drifting off to sleep. He needed to get his bearings, especially if small patrols of Orcs were in the area.

But a bit of rest would take priority after having hauled it on foot for as long as he could without as much as a breather. Several hours of sleep were granted by the time the sun was out, and with it the same stench from the night before. Orcs...dammit. He raised his head over his head before he leaned to the side of the tree to see what he was dealing with. It was a small war party of under a dozen, but the foul creatures still had the numbers of their side.

Lifting himself onto his feet, he kept his body squared with the large oak behind him to avoid detection. He knew he was just about surrounded, and he was likely to drown in the river or get stuck with an arrow in the back if he went that way. Regardless of the tactical situation, Galadion wasn't ready to back down as of yet. The grin beneath his hood was on full display as his heart pounded in anticipation for what was to come. He'd take down as many as he could. His father would've done the same thing, that much he knew.

Galadion swiveled to the left of the tree, an arrow whizzing through the air before striking an Orc center in the chest. The orcs had barely managed to glance at him before he swiveled back into cover, then popped out the opposite direction and took down another. With that Orc dead, Galadion had their full attention bearing down upon him. He continued to strafe right, another arrow striking a charging Orc before a large Oak blocked him from view. A pair of Orc arrows struck the large tree, and soon the Ranger continued his darting path from tree to tree to avoid the archers.

Several more Orc were felled, but it wasn't quite enough to force them to retreat. The archers held the high ground, and those with blades were now bearing down upon him now that he was cornered. His heart raced as the seconds passed. He switched off to his own sword just in time to parry an Orcish blade attempting to separate his head from his body. He dropped his bow to the ground, a dagger finding its way into his hand before lodging itself deep into the abdomen of the Orc. They were vile creatures, but it was still an intriguing sight to see one up close despite the circumstances.

Unfortunately for him, Galadion couldn't linger on for too long. With the dagger firmly implanted in the Orc's body, he moved the creature in the path of several arrows that were intent on putting him down. "Tough luck, Orc!" He spoke up just as the life left the Orc's eyes. With sword in hand he swiveled back behind the Oak, the archers arrows currently stopping him from moving. He might have been a bit off in the head, but he was having quite a bit of fun in his situation. The battle was exhilarating, and every thump of the heart was just another thought telling him to fight on. Then again, that's exactly what his parents feared would've happened.

Mîrioniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 89

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Mar 20, 2018 19:54:07 GMT -5

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Post by Mîrioniel on Mar 20, 2018 19:54:07 GMT -5

Mîrioniel was a good five days ride from Lothlorien, and two or three more would see her at the Fields of Pelennor. It was imperative she arrive on the lands just outside the walls of Minas Tirith with all haste. Not merely because the quarry she sought there might flee, but because Mîrioniel was desperate for new of her mother, and this mystery elf might hold some answers. She had ridden hard, taking limited rest, and sometimes allowing Glaurroch, her faithful steed, to walk, whilst she slept in the saddle. The stallion was a clever beast, and would not put his carer from his back. During the late hours of the night, she would continue her journey, knowing she couldn't afford to relax when the orcs around Fangorn had become to brazen. Instead she got a few hours sleep, given Glaurroch some real rest, during the few hours before the sun pierced the sky, until late morning.

She had forded the Anduin at Emyn Muil, and was now following the river south, entering the territory of Nen Hithoel. There were orcs in the area, she knew, having seen and sensed them. Throughout her journey, Mîrioniel had gone out of her way to avoid them. Constant skirmishes with the foul creature would have slowed up her journey. In this instance, however, her elven hearing indicated the orcs had happened upon some prey that they were hunting. She turned her horse, before coming to a halt, listening, hearing the sounds of blades coming together. If she were to ignore the battle, she would make good time to Pelennor, and yet she could not forsake whoever it was having to fight against an orc hunting party. It would waylay her journey, and yet she was compelled, knowing she was making the same decision her father would in the circumstances.

Clicking her tongue, she set off at a trot through the trees.

"Tough luck, Orc!"

She heard the voice of a man, and spotted him a couple of hundred yards ahead, and beyond him the orc war party. They had the man pinned down with their archers, whilst the rest of them had fanned out and were creeping closer. The detestable creatures had him surrounded.

Here the trunks of the trees were larger, and more spaced out, with a track that her horse was following. She had the element of surprise and would use it. The elf maiden nudged Glaurroch into a canter, allowing the animal to set its own course, along the trail through the trees toward the sound of fighting, whilst she swung her bow from her back, notching an arrow. She let loose, taking out one archer, and rapidly dispensing of the others, ducking and dodging arrows that were aimed at her. Her steed sharply changing direction to likewise avoid the projectiles. This was a skill imparted to her by Haldir. The Marchwarden had trained her intensively in archery from horseback, whilst it had been her father who had taught her to wield twin blades.

Once the archers were down, with no hope of ever getting up, the she elf swung her leg over the back of her horse and leapt from the saddle, landing lightly on the ground in the typical way of her people, and taking cover behind a large oak. Glaurroch veered off and galloped away through the trees, as she would wish him to, to avoid harm coming to him.

The golden haired elf swapped her bow for two long daggers that were strapped to her back. She glanced across to the man, ready with sword in hand. He looked exceptionally young, but judging from the grip he had over the blade, he seemed more than capable of holding his own in combat. In any case, he was going to have to, there were more orcs than she could handle alone, and protect the man barely in his adult years, at once.

Meanwhile, the orcs were closing in on them.

The time had come, and she gave a determined nod to the fledgling of a man before she stepped out boldly from behind the tree, twin daggers poised. The closest two orcs charged, crude blades raised, she stepped in toward the one, ducking beneath the swing of the blade. Mîrioniel slashed the foul creature across the thigh with the dagger in her right hand, and as she momentum brought her back up, she fiercely slammed the dagger in her left hand through the throat of the second orc. The first orc was doubled up over its leg, Mîrioniel wasted no time in whipping her right arm down, the dagger easily carving through the orc's neck and severing it's head.

Galadion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 17

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Mar 20, 2018 20:50:14 GMT -5

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Post by Galadion on Mar 20, 2018 20:50:14 GMT -5

Galadion was all the more excited upon receiving an ally to deal with the threat of the Orcs. Ears picked up on the familiar sound of arrows piercing flesh as he counted just how many Orc archers the mysterious ally had fallen. He was confident she'd killed them all by the time he slipped from behind the tree, although wide-eyes were given to the sight of the She-elf wielding a pair of twin daggers with dangerous proficiency. He remained without action as he watched her fell a couple more Orcs, and it wasn't until the woman gave him a nod that he finally snapped out of his temporary trance in time to deftly dodge another orc blade threatening to cut his flesh.

Masterful footwork gave him the skill needed to twist at the hip to avoid the sword, as well as follow up with a pivot directly off the back of the Orc itself. A twist of the wrist followed as his free hand moved into position upon the hilt, the blade being thrust backwards into the unguarded side of the now vanquished Orc. He pulled the blade forwards as his weight pushed forwards across the leaf-covered ground, a quick slide across his knees bringing him just close enough to the next Orc that threatened to outflank the Elf. The slide quickly transitioned into him raising back onto his feet, his sword colliding with the Orc's long enough for him to retrieve an arrow from his quiver and end the Orc's life with a pinpoint stab upwards through the bottom of its chin.

The young man continued grinning throughout the fight, his eyes continually moving from the battle to focus upon the woman until another Orc demanded his attention. It too was disposed of with a level of finesse that he previously chose not to display when fighting on his own. He may have not been much of a show-off, but the same could not be said of him when fighting in the presence of captivating women.

Luckily for him, the two of them proved to be more than a match for a band of orc rabble without proper leadership. Those that were not slaughtered in the melee were now scampering off to wherever they came from, effectively leaving them alone for the time being. He maintained his ground for several moments after the Orcs were out of view, wary of any sort of ambush or trickery. When it did not come, he finally let out a sigh of relief, sheathing his sword and turning towards the woman with an amused grin. "Nothing like a tumble with Orcs to get the blood flowing, aye?" He couldn't help but laugh after his attempt to break the ice. While he was more than serious about how he felt, he figured she wouldn't take him serious about that, as most chose to do.

He wiped the blood off his blade with the tail-end of his cloak before sheathing it on his hip. Galadion wasted no time afterwards in retrieving his bow off the ground, thankful that a fleeing Orc didn't try to steal it on its way out. It was his most prized possession; a shortbow crafted back in Rivendell by the master Fletcher. It was uniquely different when compared to the bows of men, and apparently twice as powerful. It too found its way onto his person before he wiped his hands clean of blood and greeted the woman with a smile, as well as a half-bow.

"Sorry 'bout that, m'lady. Killed a couple of Orcs several miles down...whatever river this is. Didn't think they'd track me, or bring companions." Galadion let out a bit of a laugh. Truth be told, he may have been lacking a bit in a few areas of study before his leave. "I guessed wrong, it seems."He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets once the previous tension had finally gone away. His demeanor was rather relaxed around the woman, as was his words. She'd probably pick up that he wasn't one of the locals who'd thought her kind were myth and legend, as he'd learned back home.

Mîrioniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 89

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Mar 21, 2018 8:51:33 GMT -5

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Post by Mîrioniel on Mar 21, 2018 8:51:33 GMT -5

The elf found herself in the centre of a melee, felling orcs in quick succession. Given the choice of a she elf and a mere boy, it was obvious the orcs would try to take out the bigger threat to their survival. And it was apparent she couldn't take them all done. Luckily, she didn't need to, the boy proving to be moderately skilful with a sword. The few remaining orcs cut their losses and fled, at which moment, Mîrioniel swapped her blades back to her bow, killing two more orcs, leaving a singular one darting through the tress. Her arrow was notched, waiting for the moment she could get a clean shot, when the man with inferior eyesight spoke.

"Nothing like a tumble with Orcs to get the blood flowing, aye?"

She glanced at him, and seeing that he made no signs of wanting to pursue the last survivor, she un-notched the arrow, and placed it back in its quiver with swift and snappy movements. Her bow was tucked back in placed on her back, just as abruptly. If he was reckless enough to leave a survivor, then she would not put herself to the trouble of doing so. Stepping away, she whistled out into the woods, a noise as delicate as birdsong and far more attractive to the ears.

"We must not linger here, they will return and with greater numbers." She said, dismissively. A moment later the tread of horse's hooves could be heard, at least to the man, Mîrioniel had heard Glaurroch's approach the moment she had whistled for him. The blonde elf watched as the boy swiped the blood off of his sword, onto his cloak, and scampered to pick up his bow. The elvish design was noted, and it made sense as to why he didn't react with the usual awe that men did when seeing one of her kind for the first time. He was well accustomed to seeing those of the Eldar. His tall frame, dark hair and the budding skill of his swordmanship. This wasn't any mere mortal, she would hazard to guess that he was a young ranger in the making.

Having seen enough, she glided over to meet her golden steed, bowing her head against his, and running her hand down his neck in a rare display of affection. A quick inspection revealed Glaurroch to be unharmed, and she proceeded to take a rag from one of her saddle bags, which she used to thoroughly clean her daggers of orc blood before sheathing them in their scabbards upon her back.

"Sorry 'bout that, m'lady. Killed a couple of Orcs several miles down...whatever river this is. Didn't think they'd track me, or bring companions."

Courage and confidence were admirable in the lineage of the Dúnadain, but too much was almost as crippling as a broken leg. Judging by his levels of mirth, this had been his first encounter with orcs, and he was running high on the adrenaline, thus she chose not to reply to him. Mîrioniel would leave him to his victory celebrations, she at least, would not loiter. Where confrontation was unavoidable, she would face it, where it could be bypassed, the elf maiden would take the path of least resistance. Besides, she had somewhere else she needed to be, the task of which desperately called to her.

"I guessed wrong, it seems."

The elf maiden looked over the saddle of the horse into the trees beyond, clearly contemplating whether to simply leave the boy to his dangerous games, or else impart upon him some wisdom that might see him get to his destination alive. She turned to look over her shoulder at the boy, her crystal blue eyes coming to rest on his face.

"What is a fledgling Dúnadan, with no grasp of his bearings, doing wandering the wilds alone?" She said, and like all her kinsfolk, her voice was silky smooth and soft, yet carried like a breath of wind on a summer's night. Turning back, Mîrioniel watched Glaurroch for a moment, before nimbly leaping into the saddle. Then Glaurroch was encouraged to step around until Mîrioniel was able to fully face the boy.

"There is much that remains for you to learn, Ranger." Mîrioniel scanned the trees, off the in the direction the orc had fled, before they made their stately way back to the boy. "Alas, these are not the lands for teaching such things." Especially if he could not navigate, or track, or cover his own whereabouts.

Galadion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 17

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Apr 11, 2018 21:52:34 GMT -5

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Post by Galadion on Apr 11, 2018 21:52:34 GMT -5

"What is a fledgling Dúnadan, with no grasp of his bearings, doing wandering the wilds alone?"

Well, that could've been worded a bit nicer, but either way she'd see him do nothing but let out a quick chuckle and resume that signature grin of his. "Adventuring into the unknown. Also...I had that under control the whole time!" Galadion crossed his arms over his chest as he stepped closer to her, his eyes moving to admire her horse. It was a fine steed indeed, and it very much reminded him of his own back in Rivendell. Leaving him behind was both a blessing and a curse, as confirmed by his run-in with the orcs.

But it was exciting, and his blood boiled at the thought of facing another group like that once again. He'd return to staring at the fair Elf-woman mounted ontop the horse. "I will admit that I may have been a bit...careless." In hindsight, it probably would've been wiser to camp deeper into the woods, or farther down the river in general. He'd been taught better, that's for sure, but striking out on his own had perhaps awakened a bit too much of his daring, carefree mindset.

Galadion cleared his throat before raising a palm to his chest and slightly bowing towards her as he spoke up once more, still grinning all the same. "I'm Galadion, of Rivendell. Thanks for the help, although I'm a bit curious as to just where we are." As much as he would hate to say it, his knowledge of the land east of the mountains was locking significantly. In fact, that specific reason was one of the main purposes of his adventure.

It wasn't long after he exited the Firien that he ended up making a wrong turn and found himself near the river. It seemed like a major landmark to follow, and his gut told him that following it might be the best move. All orcs aside, it had brought him in the presence of a beautiful Elf woman from a land unknown. He'd chalk that up as Fate being pretty generous.

Mîrioniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 89

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Apr 12, 2018 18:15:50 GMT -5

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Post by Mîrioniel on Apr 12, 2018 18:15:50 GMT -5

”Adventuring into the unknown. Also...I had that under control the whole time!"

At that, she raised her eyes to him, and whilst she didn’t raise her eyebrows, clearly the intention was there. There were many ways to describe that encounter, however, there had been very little semblance of control. She doubted he would have survived without her intervention- such was the hubris of the elves.

She remained impassive as he came closer, looking Glaurroch over. Mîrioniel’s horse was a gorgeous creature, though any owner would say that of their possessions. Taking pride in her steed, she stroked his neck, saying nothing in response to the man.

”I will admit that I may have been a bit...careless."

This ranger was no different to others of the Dunedin. They seemingly lived for the thrill, without much care for their own personal safety. Still, that she gleaned from stories she had heard, for this was one of the first men she had ever met. He would have been endearing had he not been so reckless. Apparently he must have had some form of skill to have survived this far in the wilds. He was yet to impress upon her yet.

”I'm Galadion, of Rivendell. Thanks for the help, although I'm a bit curious as to just where we are."

“I am Mîrioniel of Lorien.” She replied, inclining her head toward him fractionally in return. Mîrioniel did not check to see if he had heard of her. Her suspicions were confirmed when he declared himself of Rivendell. Not that it meant she would trust him implicitly, for men lied, and the world was not as safe as it was. Mîrioniel has been taught better than to take her eyes from a stranger, or take him at his word. As a result, she would not ask if he knew Lady Arwen, which he would if he truly was from Imladris.

“You are on the shores of Nen Hithoel.” Mîrioniel told him, she nudged her horse on, walking at a slow enough pace. It wasn’t to be rude, but the road was long, and she had to get to Minas Tirith as soon as she could. “Further South you shall see the Argonath... if that

It was an elf version of humour. Though, considering she’d never met any man before, it was unknown whether he would understand. He was from Rivendell, he ought not to be easily offended.

“Where are journeying to?” She asked, looking up and through the trees, between the boughs and branches, she could make out the giant statues that the men of Gondor had erected.

Galadion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 17

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Apr 13, 2018 20:35:14 GMT -5

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Post by Galadion on Apr 13, 2018 20:35:14 GMT -5

“I am Mîrioniel of Lorien.”

Galadion quickly realized just how far he must've traveled in the wrong direction after hearing where she hailed. "Lorien, huh. That's uh..a bit far from Ithilien." He'd mutter, his eyes trailing towards the ground as he processed his current situation. It was just for a moment she'd see that, as soon he was greeting her once more with a grin, his attitude seemingly recovered quickly.

Ithilien would have to wait now that he was more north than he'd thought, especially since. he'd seen no other humans in the area for quite some time. On the brightside of things, Caras Galadhon had been on his list, and would've came first had he not put his southern cousins in mind.

By her next question, his mind had already been up on a change of course."Well, Ithilien. I wanted to visit the southern rangers still fighting out there." Galadion had many reasons to visit the abandoned land, but mostly he wished to learn from the battle-hardened rangers out there. He'd allow her to put together her own conclusions, as he'd soon speak up once more. "That being said, I traveled the wrong way it seems." A pause, if only just for a moment.

A little hesitation wasn't always bad in the moment, but the gravity of his words were foreshadowed by what a dwarf had once told him of the other Elves. "--Well, I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of Lorien?" He was hoping his question wouldn't spark retribution from the woman, and her twin blades, that is. "I figured Ithilien would be easier to reach, especially since I could always get directions in Gondor." The idea of searching every inch of forest east of the misty mountains wasn't all that enticing. "Although.. I suppose I could've asked Lady Arwen of its location." Galadion had dreamed of seeing the Mallorn Trees since he was a child. In fact, it was Arwen herself that had first told him of their beauty. The journey had been difficult so far, but at least he was enjoying himself. Orc ambushes and all.

Mîrioniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 89

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Apr 17, 2018 10:37:06 GMT -5

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Post by Mîrioniel on Apr 17, 2018 10:37:06 GMT -5

She saw no outward signs of recognition upon his face, which did not perturb her in the least. What she did see was

”Lorien, huh. That's uh..a bit far from Ithilien."

There was the vaguest suggestion of incredulity written into her Elven features as she looked back at him. Mîrioniel has not ventured that far before, getting to Minas Tirith was the closest she would get, and that was the journey she was embarked upon now. Still, she knew he had many days journey to go, and being lost, it had not aided him in the least. However, his downcast attitude was quickly burnt away by his upbeat nature.

"Well, Ithilien. I wanted to visit the southern rangers still fighting out there."

This response barely surprised her. He was young and hot blooded, eager for battles and the glory that accompanied them. It was a brutal business, and distasteful to the elf, though she showed no signs of it. After all, she had killed her share of orcs, only moments before for example, where it had been necessary.

”That being said, I traveled the wrong way it seems. Well, I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of Lorien?"

Her crystalline eyes returned to him, with a sharper edge this time. Though the realm was no longer under her rule, she still felt the necessity of protecting it from outsiders. There was nothing he had provided to confirm his identity, or relations to the elves of Imladris. Therefore she saw no reason to take him at his word.

”I figured Ithilien would be easier to reach, especially since I could always get directions in Gondor. Although.. I suppose I could've asked Lady Arwen of its location."

Arwen, a name she recognised, and an elf she had known for many long years. Undómiel had never mentioned this young ranger before, though the two of them hadn’t spoken in so long. The elves of Lorien had withdrawn so much for the world, and it was incredibly rare for anyone to venture into their realm.

It left Mîrioniel in a quandary. Did she double back and take him to Lorien herself? It was delay her immeasurably, and she was keen to push on toward Gondor. The flip side was if she gave him directions, and he made it to Lothlórien, would the border guard slay him before he could explain himself. For a moment she turned her gaze toward the direction she intended to travel, before they returned to him.

The one thing she could console herself with, was that if he intended harm, he would not succeed against Haldir and the rest of the Marchwardens. Besides, there was a very real chance he would get lost before making it as far as Lorien.

Mîrioniel sighed deeply, visibly torn in her decision.

“If you seek Lorien, then you must turn north, following the Anduin. The first branch will take you into Fangorn, you must follow the second main branch of the river, along the Nimrodel...” Even saying the name of the river so called for her mother stung to the core.

“No dirweg.” Mîrioniel said in Sindarin. Beware. “If your intent is to harm, you will be cut down before you can get a single league into the Golden Wood.”

If only there were a way to get word back to Haldir and Galadriel, to warn them. Although, she suspected neither would need it. Still, she couldn’t say she felt better about her actions. Only that her instinct told her that his heart was true, after all, he’d not attempted to endanger her life, except in his folly.

Galadion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 17

Where's Gondor? | Miri [February 3010] Jun 9, 2018 9:24:49 GMT -5

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Post by Galadion on Jun 9, 2018 9:24:49 GMT -5

Galadion was definitely relieved upon hearing the Elf's words, which were just as much as a warning as they were words of advice. It was all the same to him, as he knew the importance of her even revealing the location of Lorien to an outsider. He figured the name-drop might've sealed the deal for him, but alas the beautiful Elf-woman from Lorien wouldn't be doubling back to accompany him on the journey back to her lands.

He hoped it would avoid the hassle of doing the tracking, as well as getting those Marchwardens, or whatever Arwen had called them, from immediately thinking him a threat. "No need to worry, i've got this! Up the Anduin, follow the Fangorn, second main branch and then up the Nimrodel after that." He didn't want to make it horribly obvious, but the names of a few of those locations were quite unfamiliar to him unfortunately.

He wouldn't let her know that, though. After all, she'd basically given him all he needed to find Lorien, assuming his skills as a Ranger were as up to par with his peers. It would be a tough journey indeed, perhaps even more-so than his assumed trip to Ithilien had been thus far. Between Orcs and vigiliant Elves with bows, it wasn't a surprise that Mirionel had such little hope for the clueless young Ranger to make it to her home city. Even a small fraction of his own self believed it wiser to head for Gondor proper, if not back to Rivendell itself.

He wiped at the cuffs of the dirtied Elven shirt beneath his leather jacket. "Well then! I truly thank you for the assistance from earlier, as well as for the directions." Galadion placed a palm on his chest as he bowed slightly to the woman, a sign of respect for the assistance she'd given him since their meeting. He tightened his belt after raising up, checking the various items and small purses attached to it before looking out in the direction she had came from.

"I'm sure we'll meet again, Miri. The fates had deemed it."

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