Well then, I think we should get started! The creater starts the rpg! As I always say! lol!

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Well then, I think we should get started! The creater starts the rpg! As I always say! lol!

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

((I know..... ))

Lesao was sitting in the corner of the dark prison cell. She was hugging her knees, silent tears made their way down her cheeks. Her stomach had pains from not being fed for so long, and her head hurt from being knockd out, so they could bring her to the prison without a struggle.
Memories crowded her head, and made her heart feel empty. Images flashed in front of her closed eyes.
She was only 4 years old. Her father carefully set her on top of his old war horse. She grabbed on the mane so hard her knuckles turned white. He took up the reins and clicked his tounge. The stubborn horse didn't move. He pulled sharply on the reins, and the horse took a diliberate, slow step forward. I gave a little gasp once he was walking at the normal speed.
She was riding a horse!
A strong wind came up, and made her long brown hair fly around all around her face. She couldn't see anything around her.
A new memory flashed before her eyes. She was about 13, she was galloping madly, yet in total control of the horse. A fallen tree raced up to meet them, they cleared it as one. She leaned closer to the horse's neck and he ran even faster. The sound of the air rushing past her ears was like a huge waterfall.
Another horse came up beside her. Peter. His smile crossed his face, his matching brown hair whipped around his face like a raging sandstorm. He urged his horse faster, and she followed suit. They raced on. If her parents were there to see her, they would tell her she is too reckless for her own good. Then she'd have told them they're too protective for her own good.

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

Czarra walked silently though the streets of the White City, hood cast over her face. Screamer was tied in the lower level of the city, out side the full stable. Getting thought the gates was easy enough, with her story of practicing tradesmanship and looking for a spot to say a week of so. Now the hard part was yet to come. Czarra belived Lesao, weather or not anyone else did. She had followed her all the way out of Rohan, she wasn't giving up now.

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I was Nymphadora Tonks

Tarcíl woke up with a groan. His head ached like it never did before. A bit grumpy he got on his unsteady feet and looked around. The sight was familiar and he smiled as he reached for the bread in the corner of his cell, outside he would have been hungry since he spent all his money last night. Then through the bars of his cell he noticed a young woman in the opposite cell, crying.
"You don't belong here.." It was a statement rather than a question. "Why are you here?"

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Harsh and rapid footfalls echoed in the stone corridors as A young woman with copper hair and ice blue eyes walked down the hall. She was short for her age only reaching 5 ft but she was very impressive she was a woman of noble bearing and powerful status.
if they only knew she mused she was the daughter of a horse breeder in rohan a high status in rohan but a low status in gondor she found her nobilty with the tip of a blade.
she made her way to the prison her least favorite place. she passed rows of cells and barely gave them a glance, save for one the new resident a woman. she stopped at the cell and stared. thoughts mulled around
"Lesao...born in Rohan age...26 arrested for murder banished from rohan captured in gondor..now prisoner 890" she had memorised the information as if there was going to be a test over it. as spymaster she had to know all this because you never know.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Czarra walked untill she found the start of the prison wall. Now, how am I going to get in, she thought. There were small windows about 8 feet of the ground, probablely to let a little light in. She put her hand against the outer wall. There were steady vibrations, like footfalls, that got stronger, then stopped. Mabye they were swiching gards, even though this was an odd time to do so.

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I was Nymphadora Tonks

The stones that the Minas Tirith prison is made of are cold and hard and the air is damp. It is difficult to be cheerful there under any conditions; even harder when one is berating oneself for being stupid. Ránëmírë wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself and shivered. She had been stupid; or at least that is what she was telling herself. “It was stupid to be curious about the prison, it was even stupider to actually go to see it, and you practically hit the pinnacle of stupidity when you became lost in it!” the elf scolded herself. She did not want to have to ask a prisoner for directions, but it was starting to look as if she would have to. She almost moaned with relief when she saw a woman standing in the corridor ahead, looking in a cell. She did not look like a prisoner. Forcing herself not to run, Ránëmírë walked up to the woman and said, “Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Do you know the way out of here?”

While waiting for the woman to reply Tarcíl listened intently to all noises. He heard footsteps, which was not unusual, but these weren't of guards or soldiers.. they were light, like those of a woman. Tarcíl rubbed his unshaved chin, something was going on here and he was sure it had something to do with the woman in the opposite cell. "Do you want to escape?"

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Deawen looked at the woman before her with slight distaste..." keep heading straight you will come to a staircase..go up and you will be out" her voice was cool like water. Deawen heard what the prisoner asked across the hall. Her attention snapped to him " Tarcil" she muttered she walked up to the cell and peered in a flash of mockery passed over her face " back so soon?" she asked sweetly.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Deawen looked at the woman before her with slight distaste..." keep heading straight you will come to a staircase..go up and you will be out" her voice was cool like water. Deawen heard what the prisoner asked across the hall. Her attention snapped to him " Tarcil" she muttered she walked up to the cell and peered in a flash of mockery passed over her face " back so soon?" she asked sweetly.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Honey, you know I can never be without you, that's why I'm back." His voice was filled with the same sarcasm. Tarcíl stretched and sat down with his back against the wall, ate last of his bread and concluded: "You're here for her. Why?"

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Deawen made a small laugh it was genuine not her usaul mocking laugh
" That is My Buisness Tarcil " she answered lightly " I didn't know you cared for others" she mocked " she may know something I need that (whats his name) failed to mention " she smiled again this time mischievisly. it was known throughout Minas Tirith of Deawen's and (whatever the guys name is int he begininng) struggle for power and control.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Lesao kept her head down, until she heard the other prisoner and the man who spoke to her, talking. She lifted her head and watched them, she wasn't sure what to do.

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

"I can be very caring" he replied insulted but then winked. Then with a groan he rubbed his forehead. "Darling, can you get me some water? I think I might be dying of a headache ." Tarcíl brought t he question as if Deawen was his wife and as if he was at home. But all he wanted was to talk to that woman where Deawen seemed to care about. She, he realised, was his fastest way out of here.

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Deawen chuckled again she rolled her eyes " now you know I never get water out of the well myself like a common maid...I might tear the skin on my hand and won't be able to sign your release warrent, and then where will we be?" she made her voice sweet and helpless.
though her face betrayed no expression she was thinking how this might effect her later. She needed more friends than enemies and this was an oppotunity she couldn't miss. She made it look like she was no longer interested in ths visit and walked back down the row of cells, vanished in the darkness her steps all that betrayed her location. Deawen found a pitcher of water and a takard of ale in the guard house. she returned to the cells with both.
she set both just out of reach of Tarcil " for your silence?" she asked " I don't want to hear about the ale or that I was here at all..understand? " she tucked her hands into her cloak " just remember without me you would suddenly find yourself at a sudden drop and a short stop at the end..." she moved both the water and ale towards Tarcil with her foot careful not to spill any of it's contents on her silk slippers. she moved closer to Lesao's cell she looked at the girl silently.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home