"You and me
Forever we'd be free
Free to spend our whole lives running
From people who would be
The death of you and me
'Cause I can feel the storm clouds
Sucking up my soul"

- Noel Gallagher




I thought it might be fun to do an RP about a mixed group of elves, men and possibly hobbits who all found themselves thrown together by fate.
There's no fixed plotline, just jump in if you want to. Any and all ideas welcome.

Set in the wildernis to the west of Rivendale after the Ring has been found, yet before the Fellowship leaves on their quest.

You don't need to post a full bio, just the name and race of your character!

Name: Rhavaniel
Race: Elf

Name: Aradan
Race: Dunedain

Name: Landon
Race: Human




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Aradan let himself drop to the ground with a grunt and pulled at the dirt encrusted cloth that was his cloak- Once it had been a sorry green, yet now it was all but black. What emerged was a sword that had been tangled in the folds of it due to wind, rain and a rather unhappy trek through Midgewater Marshes.
His companions settled near him, pulling water skins from their packs dejctedly. Landon pushed sodden blond tresses out of his face and clapped the Ranger on the back.

"Hold your cheer, my friend," he said with half a smile "With each day we draw closer to a soft dry pillow and a warm fire."
"Aye," Aradan sighed "but it'll be a long journey yet."

Landon looked at the elf whom he had been wandering with for months on end now- Ever since he had left Lake Town he had been in awe of the immortal woman who had freely offered to help him further his trade. He had left a poor apprentice chased by debts after a business deal went awry, now he felt he aged twenty years.

She turned her mud-smeared face at him: "Imladris is closer than you think."
"Well you would say that," the ranger scoffed "It was your idea to have us detour through those acursed marshes. I am half eaten, I am sure."
The elf arched a fine eyebrow: "I had no obligation to come."
"Of course, how eternally gratefull I am."

Landon shivered. They had been at each others throats ever since they had left the Ranger's home. He and Aradan were kin of old, he had made the trek to see if he might find a home there. But with no skill of the bow or the sword and no experirence in the wild they had turned him away.

"May we start a fire?" he asked quietly.
"No," snapped Aradan,"We do not need to draw attention to ourselves."
"Do not spite yourself," the elf snapped, producing flints and a small pile of kindling "We shall have a fire. Then perhaps you shall not catch your deaths."

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

May I join?

Name: Caran Marvyre
Race: Human

Name: Thoril Pegason
Race: Ranger

Name: Felicity Dalmoral
Race: Elf

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Of course!

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

Caran shivered as the cold night drew in around them. Her grasp tightened on her dirt thick cloak as she drew it around her tightly. "How much farther?" She asked through clattering teeth. Her eyes roamed over the emptiness that had become a constant companion in their journey to the tall man that strode peacefully beside her.
"Growing impatient already?" The man teased. "We shall stop for rest soon. I want to get past these marshes first," he said just narrowly missing a vile bubbling pool. He wrinkled his nose. His nose had grown accustomed to the stench, but the sight exhausted him. It felt as though they had been stumbling through the marshes for days. Too long in his opinion. He turned to return Caran's tired gaze. With a gentle movement he pulled a drenched strand of hair from her face.
"Thank you," Caran murmured, with a small smile. "If I never return to Midgewater Marshes again I will die a happy woman." She said with a faint chuckle, sharing in Thoril's distaste for the foul terrain. Her gaze returned to the landscape, with a sigh of relief she could see the end of marshes drawing near. Her happiness, however, was short lived. She grasped Thoril's arm tight and pointed ahead. Smoke rose up from the ground. Figures could be seen in the distance.

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Aradan folded his arms in defiance, but held his tongue. He was indeed cold and he understood the need for warmth. Landon was young and unaccustomed to the climate to the West of the Misty Mountains. He was leant over the fire even now, his hands close to the flames.

Landon looked up as he noticed his companion staring: "Are you hungry, brother?"
The ranger frowned: "Are we brothers now?"
Rhavaniel lay down her water bottle. She had been cupping water to and gently rubbing the dirt off her face and tugging clumps of mud out of her hair under his skeptical eye- for a while now and could tell that he was trying to contain his annoyance for her wastefulness. Obviously Landon's cheerful manner had been the final straw to kindle the fire that had been brewing inside him for the best part of a fortnight.
The man from Rivertown shivered and rubbed his hands together with a shy smile: "I mean no offense, I merely-"
Aradan snorted: "Well don't 'merely'. We have a long journey ahead and I assure you we shall not be parting ways as brothers."
Landon blushed furiously: "You speak out of weariness."
"I speak out of no such thing. Hold your tongue. The wilderness is no place for such young blood. It is a wonder you have not accidently caused our demise by starting fires on open plains or singing with the elf- Which is no laughing matter, woman!"
Rhavaniel sighed: "Your mood is blacker than a Morgul Blade tonight, Aradan," switching to Elvish she added,"Do not punish the boy. He has been put through enough this past year- Your temper will only leave him as sour as you yourself have become."

The ranger stood abruptly, his gaze murderous: "Do not act so serenely. You and I go way back- I do not easily forget. Now if you watch the pup does not catch alight I shall take the first watch."
"Perhaps you should start straight behind you," the elf said quietly.

Landon froze where he sat then made a clumsy fumble for his blade, standing too quickly and nearly over balancing. His eyes strained in the dim light and stepped forward to the ranger leaning forward in a way that suggested that he both feared what was hidden in the dark, and wished to encounter it.
Aradan blinked into the night. He held his bow drawn but knew he could not be assured that he would hit his target after staring into the fire for so long. A glance backwards confirmed that Rhavaniel too had risen. The lines of her figure were taught, yet she held no weapon in her hands.

They were no goblins, that much he could tell as his eyes adjusted. They seemed to be simple travellers- although perhaps not so simple if they risked the marshes at night. Emboldend by his companions he lowered his bow and called out, his voice strained: "If you've come to rob us, you will be surely disappointed! We have nothing of value on us."

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

Thoril came to a halt, alarmed by Caran's panic and touch. He shook his arm free from her frantic grasp. "Control yourself!" He hissed, rubbing his arm. With narrowed eyes he peered into the distance. There was three figures. Each of them stood, two of which had revealed their weapons. Then one of them spoke. Thoril bit back a laugh at the man's remark. "We are no thieves. Just mere travellers my friend. We want no trouble." Thoril called back as he fell into stride once more. He could not fault the strangers assumption. No one used the marsh route unless they were up to no good. They were either running away from something or hiding something. Out of habit his hand came to rest firmly upon the hilt of his sword.

"Are you crazy?!" Caran screeched, grabbing his arm tightly, drawing him to her.
"Release me!" Thoril murmured tensely. "And for love of all that is pure, lower your voice!" He added shaking his head in annoyance.
"But...but, they could know him!" Caran's voice had indeed lowered, but was now thick with fear. "I think we should find another way..." Caran was frantic, her eyes wide.
Thoril shot a shocked look at Caran. "You want to walk back through all of that?" At Caran's silence he continued. "I didn't think so. Now let's keeping moving." He gently ushered Caran forward. "Now listen to me. Just keep calm. Let me do all the talking. We'll be just fine." Thoril's voice had lowered to a whisper.

They soon reached the make shift campsite. "Good evening." Thoril greeted politely, bowing his head to the two men and elf. Caran smiled nervously, shrouding herself in Thoril's shadow.

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Rhavaniel bowed her head and touched her hand to her heart, muttering a greeting. Ever since she had seen that the two shady looking characters were indeed a man and woman she had felt herself calm slightly. Of course, she was no stranger to the ways of men, she knew that this did not mean they were innocent. Women were quite as dangerous as men and one in the company of one were often as sly and quick-witted as any politician.

"Good evening," Landon said, sounding relieved. In his minds eye images of thieves and cut-throats had swarmed out of the shadows and he had fought valiantly before being cut down. To see a rather bedraggled man and woman who had quite obviously just made the same awful trek through the marshes. "I'm afraid we've not much food if you're hungry, but you're welcome to share our fire if you so wish."
The ranger cut in quickly: "We'll not hinder your passing."
"Do not heed my companion, I fear he is suffering from midge-bites and dampness," Landon continued with a smile, he could see the woman hiding herself behind her companion. "I dare say rangers are said to be able to survive the wild in better cheer than holds true. Sit down if you wish."

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

Caran glanced to the woman, she looked friendly enough, but what was she to know. Her last choice in companions nearly killed her. She rubbed her stomach absentmindedly. She flinched almost instantly. Caran's nerves did not ease as the second man spoke. He certainly was not welcoming and held himself the same way her husband had. As an added safety measure she stepped further away from him, almost completely hidden behind Thoril now. Her body seemed to close in on itself, as if expecting to protect itself from a heavy blow.

Thoril threw a cursory glance in Caran's direction. "I promised that I would not let anyone hurt you. Will you please compose yourself?" He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the man who first spoke. "Ordinarily I would not want to impose. However my companion and I have travelled far without much rest or warmth. If it helps we have an abundance of food that we would be happy to share with the three of you." He motioned to Caran's pack.

Caran bit her lower lip nervously. "Off course, you are welcome to the food." She said timidly.

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"Please," Rhavaniel said, sitting down with ease. The woman spoke quietly, almost mouse-like. She considered how dangerous is was for a lone woman to travel and understood her choice in company. The man, a ranger from his garb, seemed as tough and wary as Aradan. His patience too seemed to be worn thin- it was, after all a hellishly long trek through mud and stagnant water to pass so far through the marshes. "We would not hinder your passing. You are welcome to what way-bread we have left. Landon-"

The man from east of the Misty Mountains lay down his sword and went to one of the packs, rummaging for a moment before producing what appeared to be a stack of wafers wrapped in leaves. He held it out to the woman and her companion somewhat gingerly, obviously not too keen to get too close to another so tightly wound.

Aradan found himself taking the other man's measure as their elf companion spoke softly, gesturing to the orange light of the fire. He found it strange to think she was so old and yet still spoke with the soft lilt of her people when she spoke Westron. To encounter another, what he assumed to be a ranger so far out, was indeed strange- To not know him stranger. His people were a secretive one; the Ranger's of the North held their where-abouts secret- It was not uncommon for a small group to form and break off from their main gathering. To encounter another who had chosen to leave his people was strange indeed. He could not tell much from the man's appearance. He did not know whether there were more of his kin nearby, or if the man had chosen to assist the rather quiet woman who spoke so nervously.

"My name is Aradan," he said in elvish, gouging the other man's reaction;"Son of Galathil. From whence and whence to do you journey?"

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

Caran watched as the man known as Landon approached her. Her hand reached up to pull her red hair across the right side of her face. She smiled slightly, reaching out for the wafer thin food. "Thank you," she almost whispered. "We have water...if any of you would like a drink?" With trembling hands she reached into her pack and produced three water skins. Thoril, having noticed her tremblings, took her hands and pulled her to the fire.
"Sit." He ordered, his eyes flashing. "You must be cold."
Caran sat obediently, her head lowered.

Thoril scrutinised the garb of the man that spoke to him. He was a fellow ranger off course. A ranger whom he did not recognise. Off course the earth was vast, he could not simply cross all ranger's paths. Thoril smiled at the familiar musical sound of the elvish language.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Aradan," he answered in flawless elvish. "I am sorry that you find me so strained though." He glanced at Caran, thankful that she did not understand a word.
"I am Thoril. I hail from the North. I was due to return there after my business in Rohan when I meant my...companion here." Thoril gestured to Caran. "We seek somewhere safe...for reasons you will soon understand."

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Name: Areanne
Race: Elf


Areanne stumbled, running for her life. Who were these new strangers? Where was she? Where was Mirkwood? Was she even still in Rohavion? Areanne's heart thudded in her chest and for a moment all breath left her and she tripped and landed on her face. She groaned wearily and did not get up. Her legs felt numb and the rest of her, dead. She didn't have the strength to pull herself up again. She sighed and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get a rest out of it.

Areanne let sleep take over before her mind wandered to all the other possibilities that could happen while there she lay, motionless and helpless.

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My heart lies with the sea, the only place it shall be~

The elf girl was aroused by a breath of cold wind. She struggled dizzily to her feet, momentarily forgetting her panic. Her head swam. She leaned against a tree, wiping much from her eyes, and she huddled her cloak around herself against the chill. She'd forgotten about the strangers some way up; but she knew that she had best kept quiet, no matter how much her head throbbed.

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My heart lies with the sea, the only place it shall be~