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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: October 2nd, 2011, 12:24 pm 
Maia
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I will :happy: But I'm not happy with what I've got for you >.<"" Its a lot.... -.-" I realized I don't have a cannon charrie so I couldn't finish to my expectations... I've taken Haldir and Boromir for now, but since he's my Lovee- Who's left over?

Rhavaniel walked through the forest of Lothlorien, a small smile playing about her face. After two hundred years of wandering through Middle Earth recovering from the tradgedy of her youth. She had happily joined forces and fought with any who shared her view, allying herself with elves and men alike. She had even returned to her home in the former Greenwood the Great, forgiven for her disgressions and welcomed back to her family with open arms. Word had been given to her that the One Ring had been found and, having been heavily embroiled in Sauron's previous defeat she had felt it her duty to offer her bow in support of the free world's cause.
She had watched King Thranduil send his son to Imladris and Elrond's council and had consoled him once word had reached him that he had joined the Fellowship of the Ring. Once word had reached them of the problems faced by the Elves in Lothlorien in trying to rid their borders of encroaching bands of orcs. She had come immediately to help her southern cousins in their attempt, travelling with her friend of old, Amara Thandiel.

They had both known the young prince in his youth and had happily sent word to Galadriel that they would head a troop of the King's Hunters and command them if necessary. Thranduil himself had suggested that they go, eager to hear from his son from friends of the royal family, not courtiers.
The peace and magic of Lothlorien had lifted her spirits instantly. Although it was by far a more light place than Mirkwood, where she had grown up, with it's huge mallorn trees and eternal light, she nevertheless felt a sense of safety and peace within it's borders.

As she walked now, she finally admitted to hermself that there was another, more personal reason that made her glad to be
back here. After exchanging greetings with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel she had allocated her Mirkwood kin a patrol to join and put them through their evening paces. The anticipation that had been building inside of her slowly began to give way to frustration as she awaited the arrival of the Fellowship, each day blending into the next. She knew that this was the reason she had left the Golden Wood many years ago- She found the intense beauty and tranquility of the kingdom draining in its own way. Military action kept jerking her out of a peaceful reverie that built up around her.

Rhavaniel turned to Amara and smiled lazily, letting herself drop to the ground. She had been surprised to learn that there was already a hobbit in the midst of Lorien, having lived for neigh three millenia and yet never having had the pleasure to meet such a creature- And now they were to play such a vital role in the fate of Middle Earth?

"So have you met our Halfling yet? I hear she has been a wanderer for some years," her voice was tired but half incredulous. The arrival of the hobbit had touched a nerve, reknown as she was for her involvement in the affairs of other races. Her hand wandered to the small flask of water that had been placed on the soft grass "Where have they been hiding for all these years?"
_______________________________________________________________________

The moon rose high over the tops of the silver trees, casting its pale light over the land of Lothlórien. The smooth bark shone under its gentle caress and the leaves emitted a golden glow. Haldir walked amongst the familiar paths of these woods and marveled, as he had done other times in the past, at the beauty and splendor of his native land. No other place he had seen could match the subtle grace and sense of peace that dwelled here. Yet now, the calm was disturbed by a threat that lingered just at the edge of his perception. He and his brothers had led the Fellowship from the outskirts of the Golden Wood, having picked up their trail whilst hunting for the orcs that dove ever deeper into the Golden Wood.

He had learned of the danger that encroached upon all of Middle Earth on his forays abroad, but he had not known that such a great menace lived so close. Messengers from Imladris had spoken of a Balrog of Morgoth awake in the depths of Moria and the arrival of Thranduil's Hunters had brought tidings of spiders venturng ever closer to the Forest Path and the King's Hall.

A set of voices interrupted Haldir’s thoughts. He looked towards the sound and discovered that during his ponderings his steps had wandered towards the sleeping grounds of the Fellowship. He turned to go but one voice, or rather what it said, stopped his feet mid pace.

“Well, have a care! I do not feel too sure of this Elvish Lady and her purposes.”

Shocked, he rapidly turned his head and eagerly sought for the one who had spoken. In his indignation, he barely registered the words that Aragorn spoke in rebuke and in defense of the Lady. Who dared to speak in such and insinuating and disrespectful manner of the noble Lady Galadriel? He saw it was one of the men, the one from Gondor; Boromir he believed was his name. Such a grave insult, especially coming from a foreigner, he could not tolerate. He resolved to settle this matter with the man latter in the night, when the others rested, by force if necessary. He turned away .

The night wore on and little by little the populace, along with their guests, laid themselves down to sleep, save for a few. One of these was Boromir. He did not feel comfortable in this strange city of the elves; the distrust he had expressed earlier still lingered in his heart, and despite the weariness of the day he felt restless. He sat leaning against one of the tall mallorn trees near to the fellowship camp, his thoughts on the journey that lay ahead, when he spotted a grey-clad figure coming in his direction. The blonde elf, who he recognized as Haldir, the one who alongside his brothera had led them away from the hoards of orcs that would by now be swarming out from the Black Mouth of the Westgate of Moria up into the trees, stopped a few paces from him. The elf did not speak, but his look spoke volumes.

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: October 22nd, 2011, 4:10 am 
Maia
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(I am SO sorry, that it took so long to reply to this. I had a major writer's block for the opening post... But, I think that I got it done now! So... ARABELLA'S TURN! xD)

Tough. Amara knew the definition of the word and she knew it well. She, herself, was one of the toughest women known to her people. Amara was an elf of a different realm entirely, of course. Jeroja; the land of the Warrior. No one really knew that the island existed, but that was the point. It was created so as to not be found. This is what made the island so special. Even though it was just an island, Jeroja thrived with: animal life, plant life and even rolling hills of green; with a couple of rivers running through the land.

Amara had been born there in the Third Age, around the same time that Lady Arwen had been born. But, she never learned the ways of her people. For when she was very young, someone found out about their land and threatened to steal her. The Princess... Princess Amara. So, he made leave the island for her protection and sent her on a boat, heading for Middle Earth. Even though, he knew that Middle Earth was dangerous, he had a friend of his that knew of the situation and was going to raise Amara as his own daughter. A ranger man by the name of Yez.

On her way to Middle Earth, a terrible storm hit the seas and made her boat crash into the water. Her unconscience small body was washed up onto the shore of Belegaer (The Great Sea), right beside Gondor. This was where Yez had found her. Once she was nursed back to health in his small hut in the woods, he realized that Amara had no clue who she was or where she was from. She had lost her memory. So, he made her believe that he was her father and that she had just hit her head. That was the lie that she had grown to know as the truth for so many years of her life.

Now, she was here with her best friend Rhavaniel, walking alongside her through the forest of Lothlorien. She had come all of this way to see the Fellowship and to mainly check up on Prince Legolas; her and Rhavaniel's good friend for many years. Through all of her travels, she had stumbled upon the kingdom of Mirkwood and met Legolas and his father King Thranduil. Both were very hospitable people to her and treated her as if she were part of the family. She had grown quite fond of them... Especially to Legolas. And she knew that Rhavaniel understood her liking toward the Prince.

Shaking her head at the thought, Amara sighed deeply and stared ahead. She knew that they were almost there. She then stopped walking, when she looked to her friend. She smiled back to her a bit and then slowly sat down on the ground beside her, leaning back on her hands. She looked up to the tops of the trees, not seeing much sunshine shining through. She sighed a bit and then let the beauty of the woods pull her in. It was a magnificent sight to behold, indeed.

She then was pulled out of her thoughts, when she heard her friend speak of the Halfling. She raised her eyebrows and looked over to her friend, shrugging a bit. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her yet..." She said softly and then nibbled on her lower lip a bit, before hearing her friend's other question. She figured that the question was more for herself than for Amara. She smiled a little and then looked down to the blades of grass. "I've heard that they reside in a land named The Shire." She added and then looked back up to Rhavaniel.

--------------------------------

Frodo and Aragorn had been among the company of Boromir, while visiting the Lady Galadriel in the woods. Aragorn couldn't believe how rude and judgmental Boromir was being and he knew that the elves could hear his outburst. "Boromir... Enough." He said sternly, raising his hand a bit so that he could show the man that what he was saying was a huge problem to the elves that resided here. Even to Legolas; his dear friend.

Frodo swallowed hard at the scene in front of him and his eyes widened, when he thought that Aragorn and Boromir were going to get into a fight. He shrunk away slowly and then crawled into his tent, curling up into a ball. He may have been the one to carry the burden of the Ring, but he was still scared to death. About everything. Luckily, Sam was there to help him on his journey and he knew that he would be okay for that one reason alone.

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: October 23rd, 2011, 1:51 am 
Ringwraith
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(Note: Arabella's history in this is a little different from hers in 'I Imar prestar Aen')

Arabella wandered through the enchanting woods of Lothlorien, taking Lady Galadriel's advice and exploring the realm she now found herself in--the realm that seemed to her like a memory from a dream. She smiled softly to herself, remembering the Lady's words to her. "I suppose you wouldn't remember me, child. After all, you were but a baby when last we met."

The small Hobbit lass' eyes had widened in disbelief. Had she really been here before? How could she have? Hobbits did not frequent the Golden Wood, she knew that. But as she had listened to Galadriel's story, about how her family had been Elf-friends for years, when her great-grandmother had saved the life of the Lady of Light, it began to make more sense. Now she walked in wonder through the wood, trying to bring back memories long forgotten, taking it all in just in case she never got to see it again.

She hummed absentmindedly to herself, a distant melody of a lullaby she remembered her mother singing to her long ago. She longed to ask Galadriel about her mother, for she knew the elf would remember Keladry well, but there would be another time for that. Arabella closed her eyes, trying to recall her mother's face, but the memory slipped away from her as always. She gave a small sigh.

Arabella, daughter of Keladry, had been a wanderer since the age of seven. Her parents and three sisters--one older, two younger--had lived peacefully in the outskirts of Bree until one terrifying night, when their home had caught fire while Arabella had been walking in the garden. Well, hiding in the garden would be a more accurate description--hiding from her guilt. For her mother had been gravely ill at the time, and it was thought that she would not have lasted the night. Mama had called her daughters in one by one to say goodbye, even though the youngest was not yet four years old and understood little. She saved her eldest daughter, Arabella's sister Nessa, for last, for as the oldest child Nessa would recieve Keladry's necklace, the crystal teardrop given to the family by Galadriel. But Arabella, reluctant to accept the fact that her mother would soon be gone, had taken the necklace herself and fled, as if that alone would save her mother. By the time she returned, it was too late--her house was destroyed and her family dead. That same necklace now hung around Arabella's neck.

She looked up as she heard voices, startled from her reverie. Curious, she followed the source of the noise, coming across several tents. "Hello?" she called curiously.

-----

Legolas had left the company of the Fellowship for the time being, familiar enough with the paths of the Golden Wood that he would be able to find his way back when he so chose. As he left, he gave a respectful nod to both Estel and Haldir, hoping they would understand his reasons for leaving. He was grateful for the peace and quiet Caras Galadhon offered him, away from the despair of the others and the suspicion of Boromir. He shook his head angrily, remembering his words about Lady Galadriel and his arrogance at the Council of Elrond. Was there no opinion that man had that he could not keep to himself? His words were foolish, hindering the Fellowship more than they helped. He gave a sigh and walked on, hoping to find solace among the serene trees.

He ended up finding more than that. His eyes widened first in surprise and then in excitement as he came across two very familiar figures, and he grinned. "Mae Govannen!" he called excitedly, hurrying over to Amara and Rhavaniel, his friends since childhood. "My friends! It is truly a delight to see you again."

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: October 26th, 2011, 4:47 pm 
Maia
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(( Let me know if I get anything wrong ;) ))

Rhavaniel nodded her head wistfully "Ai! So I have been told," she murmured "I Dran ... I should so very much wish to look upon their lands, yet I shy from being so close to the Havens," and she did. On the singular occasion, now long in the past, where she had travelled to the newly established Lindon she had felt such a longing overpower her that she had very nearly made the crossing. She had not crossed the Baranduin, now playfully called Brandywine River, ever since. Even the memory pained her- The promise of a peaceful life, of forgiveness seemed always out of reach.

She knew she would never be able to make the crossing, even when her time came. A wise woman long dead had once pulled her painfully and whispered that she would leave her life in battle. Rhavaniel had laughed at the time never having been a believer in destiny, but now as she grew older she realized that that was indeed her fate. She could never face the disappointment of those who had gone before, the shame and the pain. She had found forgiveness in Arda, but she could not face the pain of that terrifying fight again.

Her gaze slid to Amara. She was fond of the younger elf she had met a way back- She had been lost, confused and hurt to find out who she was- Or who she was meant to be at any rate. The Sindar elf found it very refreshing to be around her. It drove her own thoughts away from the wreckage of her past and made her invest more time in others.

She felt she had grown cold over the years, much like her older brother, Morfindien, a keen diplomat with a sharp sense of self-preservation and little else. So she had left the remainder of her family, left King Thranduil, a close personal friend since childhood whose life her pain-crazed husband had ruined, and had set off into the world.

And now to be seated under the great mallorn trees of Lorien again, the place where she had first come to lick her wounds- It stirred something deep within her. Some heart-wrenching emotion she kept under lock and key. She shivered and rubbed her arms with an uneasy smile. If there was one thing that she believed, it was that she was born to run.

"Hark," she said suddenly and pointed her chin.

As Legolas emerged from between the heavy tree-trunks she exhaled and gave a true smile, her eyes flicking to Amara with what was obviously humour. She had herself harboured feelings for his father and knew all too well the effect of the royal family's steel blue eyes. As she saw Legolas she was reminded of his father in his youth- Had they both not married so young… A grin suddenly spil her features and she could barely contain the laughter in her voice. The thought of what may well have almost been tickled her and she stood.

"Well, well," she smirked, the mischief apparent in her eyes "Look what the cat dragged in, well met indeed, princling!"

_____________________________________________________________

Boromir glared at Aragorn "Perhaps if you had not spent your years cowering in the shadows you would have a little more pride in your own race, " he muttered as he moved to face the blond elf who had led them thus far "And if you looked beyond your own borders, perhaps we may live in a better world. For all your years you see our plight only as the blink of an eye and do not trouble yourself with us mortal folk. Do not blame me for what you are to backwards to grasp! Forgive me," the Steward's son turned back to the Dunedain,"But I cannot stand for it! And I will not."

Haldir blanched and squared his shoulders. It was true that he had often been called arrogant by Lord Celeborn and his brothers, but never had a mortal turned daggered words on him. He felt his blood begin to warm in the dying light. The mortal was adding insult to injury by attacking the Marchwarden himself.

He had only come by to inform Legolas that Thranduil's select band of Hunters had come back from their patrol and that the two elleths had requested his presence. He knew Rhavaniel well and he was getting to know Amara and so had gladly ran the errand for them, but he had not wished to cross paths with Boromir again. He could feel his temper raising its ugly head and had to bow his head sharply to avoid speaking rashly.

"I'm most sorry you fell that way inclined," he said shortly. "I meant no harm," he turned to Aragorn with gritted teeth "The Lady Rhavaniel and the Lady Amara wish for the princes presence. Please let him know," he turned on his heel angrily.

Boromir laughed "Have you no errand-boys to run around for you, elf?"

As soon as he had spoken the mortal realised he had crossed a line. The elf drew himself up to his full height and glowered at him. The tranquil march-warden was gone and in his place was an elf-warrior of times past, old beyond measure and stronger than a pack of wargs.

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: November 11th, 2011, 12:24 am 
Ringwraith
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BUMP! (I don't think it's my turn...)

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: November 16th, 2011, 6:35 pm 
Maia
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Amara had been pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a very familiar voice. It was Legolas. Oh, how great it was to see how handsome face again. It had been far too long. She looked up to him and smiled widely, standing up in her spot. "Well met, Prince. How have you been, dear friend?" She asked him softly, looking over his face happily while placing a hand on his shoulder in proper greeting. She felt as though she was staring at him, but she didn't seem to care at that point. She had missed him dearly and every moment that they had been apart, she thought of him.

It was a shame that he wasn't fond of her in the way that she was of him. They knew each other so well and she knew that if he ever found another Elf maiden... Well, things wouldn't be good, let's just say. She tried to instantly clear the thought from her mind and kept the smile on her face for him. She knew that King Thranduil would be pleased with their recent news of his son. He had been worried sick about him going on this journey. But, knew that it had to be done.

Waiting for the Prince to speak up again, she stayed there in silence; glancing over to Rhavaniel every so often, noticing the glint of humor in her eyes. She wanted to glare at her playfully, but knew that Legolas would notice. So, she kept it to herself. She smirked a bit and then kept her eyes fixated on the marvelous sight that was Legolas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frodo sat up from inside his tent, hearing a small voice from the outside. He raised an eyebrow and looked to Sam. "Sam, did you hear that?" He asked and then stood up slowly. He poked his head out of the tent and looked around a bit, before his eyes spotted another Hobbit. Another?! He thought that they were the only Hobbits here! He looked at her curiously and then slowly walked out of the tent, walking toward her cautiously. "H-Hello there. Who are you?" He asked her softly, not sure why she was there or if it was just an allusion.

If she was an allusion, he didn't really mind. She was quite pretty. But, her being real would be even better for him...

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 Post subject: Re: Love Is a Battlefield RPG
PostPosted: November 17th, 2011, 12:56 am 
Ringwraith
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Legolas rolled his eyes at the nickname given to him by Rhavaniel. Some things, it seemed, never changed. "Please, my friends, no titles here," he said, more for the Lady Amara's benefit, for it was her who had called him 'Prince' while Rhavaniel, as always, had chosen to tease. "We are all equals here tonight." He beamed at the two of them. "Amara. Rhavaniel. I am well. I trust that you know the reason for our being here, of course...but I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea what brings two fair maidens such as yourself to the Golden Wood.

He had his suspicions, of course. When he had left Mirkwood for Imladris those months ago, rumour had already begun to brew about the growing threat of the North, of Dol Goldur and of the spiders, although Legolas had dared to hope that it was simply hearsay. He wanted to hear the reason from the girls' own lips.

"I trust my dear old home is still in the same state it was when I left it?" he asked. "And my father?" He frowned slightly. "The Fellowship has endured much sorrow and hardship already. I hope my people are having a better time of it than we have been."

---------

Ari's words seemed to hang in the still air of the Forest of Light, suspended there for a moment while she waited for a reply. She took a curious step closer as if to inspect the tent, though part of her hung back cautiously--a remnant of her early life as a wanderer. Her curiosity might get the better of her from time to time, but Arabella was ready to flee at the first sign of danger if the need called for it.

Her blue-green eyes widened as a face appeared between the folds of the tent, looking intently at her. She stood still as the figure approached her, taking in the sight of him. Like her, this stranger was a Hobbit, his curly dark hair framing his face and his eyes gazing at her as if he wasn't entirely sure she was there. Could this be one of the visitors that Lady Galadriel had mentioned? "I will summon you when you are needed, Arabella," she had said. "A group of travelers have just entered the Wood--travelers I am most anxious for you to meet."

Arabella took a step forward, her fingers trailing along the skirts of her pale blue dress. "I am Arabella," she said softly. "Who are you? I didn't know there were any others of my kind in this Wood...are you the ones Lady Galadriel told me about?"

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