[[While Jax is sadly not around at the moment, I don't see why this couldn't continue...? Jump in, Harthad. ]]

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going on a journey through my old claims

(Okay, cool! )

Holly crept over to the edge of the group and listened to the rumors silently, digesting the information. Her excitement was so great that she felt prepared to jump up and tell them all that they should be doing something, anything. . .but that would mean alerting the orc guards that they were up and talking about the outside world.

Such talk was forbidden, for the orcs feared that just one drop of hope would spill and unleash a torrent of revolution that would release the prisoners. Us. But they had long since gathered in secret to discuss, like what was happening now.

Holly scanned the crowd for a familiar face, and soon found one. She stood up and walked over to Eofur, careful to not step on anyone, or be stepped on, which wasn't hard because she was a hobbit. Most people didn't notice her.

"Hey, Eofur. Is the message going to be read soon? And what's of this about Eriador?"

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AKA Crutchie


Click here to visit my site!

Eofor turned as someone spoke to him. Oh, yes, that halfling. Eofor could still remember when he first saw her, and thought the legends of his father-mother had sprung out of the rock.

"It is being read," he responded. "Magorlad is reading it now. There are stirrings all over the place, Minas Tirith they say, and even the name of Imladris has been on more than one tongue. And something is going on in Eriador. The letter does not say what, but it is being talked about."

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going on a journey through my old claims

"Imagine! Maybe. . .maybe people will come to rescue us." Holly sighed. She always was dreaming about such things. But it was just wishful thinking. "Can you hear what they're talking about?"

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AKA Crutchie


Click here to visit my site!

I know this RP is a couple pages in the making, but is it too late for me to join?

[[Nope! Join us. =D]]

Eofor put his face in his hand. She was cheerful, sure, but did she not understand? "It's what I just said," he tried to explain. "That bit, about the things going on in other places. It's what they're talking about. I don't know more than that. Maybe others do, but maybe not."

Still, they were in this place together. He placed his hand on Holly's shoulder. "And while I doubt rescue is in the plan, escape still is. Don't lose hope, little one."

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going on a journey through my old claims

(Just to let you guys know I'm still here, just waiting for muse to strike.

Oh, and hi, fellow Sanctuary-fan : D)

((@Mindtraveler: hello to you too! I can't believe the second part of the season premiers tonight! Its been such a long wait, and such a terrible cliff hanger))

Name: Déorgar

Race: Human (Rohan)

Background: Deorgar was a blacksmith in a medium sized village He was out hunting with a couple of his friends (they had a running argument about which required more skill: hunting or smithing, and were trying to resolve the friendly conflict). The group was ambushed and captured by a group of orcs. Deorgar was separated from his friends and brought to this prison.

Personality: Open and friendly, but quiet. He thinks before he speaks, and rarely, if ever, gets angry.

Weapons: Anything that can be used to smash. He's not trained to use weapons, but since he relies on strength, not speed, the bigger the better.

Description: Well into the "tall, brawny blacksmith" cliche. He has dark brown hair and grey-green eyes. He's also a little bit scruffy.

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Deorgar listened intently as Magorlad read the letter. He had waited a long time for news from the outside world. A quick glance around showed the other prisoners were just as interested. They'd have to wait for the news though: in this hell hole large groups looked suspicious, especially when they contained loud voices proclaiming about the goings on of the land outside the prison. He had earned his place near Magorlad, the reader, partly because of his immense stature, and partly because of his seniority. There were only a handful of prisoners that had been imprisoned longer than he had, and in here rank was almost always directly correlated with the amount of years spent in it.

The letter was brief, and contained painfully little detail. It was still the most excitement anyone had in a couple weeks, and the people around him chattered away, trying to fill in the gaps. As the others spoke, Deorgar mulled over the information, turning it over in his mind and inspecting it from every angle. The world was definitely changing, that was for sure.

A young lad, likely one of Eofor's fellow countrymen by the golden hue of his hair, ran into the meeting. Eofor sat up. By the look on the boy's face, he guessed guards were on their way. Standing up, Eofor motioned to those around him to follow him out. It wouldn't do to have a full stream of prisoners leaving at the same time either, that would be just as suspicious. Catching the eyes of a few others in the room, he nodded his head towards the openings and left.

Though his mind was still mulling over the new news, his body ached for a respite before the next day of hard work. He dropped off to sleep as soon as he flung himself down.

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going on a journey through my old claims

I hope its not too late for one more!


Thalion's ears had perked as he had heard Magorlad speak. Wizards and elves- It had been so long since anyone had spoken those two words with such quelled hope in their voice. Was someone coming to free them at last? He doubted it. He had been slaving away under the tireless whips of the goblins for as long as he could remember and yet no one had ever sought him out. He didn't harbour as much respect for the old man as perhaps he should, but he was angry about the news being leaked in. News gave hope and as far as Thalion was concerned, hope was merely for fools.
He had been seated close to the grizzled man, having been in the same sorry situation as him for even longer. Elves- It had been so long, so many long and painful years since he had seen any of his kin. He wondered if they would still recognize him as one of their own. He no longer appeared elvish. Perhaps he was slightly taller and his hair was softer, but the dirt and mud caked into it stole away the gleam it should have. The years he had spent in dank dungeons had marred his body with deep scars and torn long lines down his face. He hardly remembered his life before this one. He stared up at the mouldy ceilings and tried to picture faces and places he knew and then turned away angrily. He had nothing an elf should have, not even their tranquility.
Magorlad knew- He had been here the longest out of the other men, he had sensed something long ago. He didn't know if anyone else knew or even suspected- The goblins certainly didn't. He had stumbled out of one prison and straight into the next. Three weeks and four days he had been free.
The sun was about to rise- if there had been birds, they may have begun to sing, but there was nothing. Just the same sickening light as every other morning. He sat up on his worn blanket and stared at his companions wistfully- They could easily escape. Sickness and exhaustion were all that mortals needed to exit this world.
But maybe Eofur could led them to freedom, Thalion wondered, his wistful gaze turned into a hard calculating glare as he assessed the sleeping man.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .