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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

"Take a seat," Iver heard a familiar voice from the figure in the chair. It was a woman with red hair. She sat cross-legged with something wrapped up in a towel cradled in her arms.

"Hello, Iver," Miriel said. "What brings you to town?"

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Cardiloc grumbled, what a stubborn bunch of jack-asses. He turned towards Laurel, surprise on his face. “Look, we can rest in Minas Tirith for a month, but after that I need your help. And you haven’t been fighting, you’ve been hiding; running from doing what’s right. Ha’zi, he ran too, but he stopped. He stood alone against Beren, and he died for it. He sacrificed himself to save us, but we need to complete his mission for him. He was looking for the Silmarils, I’ve got one.” He produced the sea-Silmaril, and held it aloft. “Aranel has one too, and Ha’zi had one; but it’s gone now. We can’t go back and get it from him in his time, so we get it from mine. If you help me find the Silmaril, and we can make a weapon out of it. You can all rest, all of you. That, I promise. But please, just help me find it.” He explained to the others.

“I know you want nothing more than to run, and hide from what’s coming. It’s what I want to do most, believe me. But please, just help me do this one last thing, please. Help me stop what happened to your world, and you can rest in peace and safety. There won’t be either of you don’t.” He implored them.
 
Hering would continue to also trudge forward, making sure he didn't step on any loose rocks. He'd adjust the backpack to make it more comfortable, even though the weight never went away.
 
"Miriel, long time no see" Iver said and took a sit. What was that thing in her arms, he thought to himself. Was that a....
"Your sister" Iver answered.
 
Although he didn't comment on it, Ha'zi took satisfaction out of the drillmaster's jabs at Daugo. Feeling smug, the Haradrim continued his dangerous descent from the belly of the beast.
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Sigeric raised an eyebrow, taken aback by that answer. "Really? I thought we rather had the odds in our favor this time, but if you that's what's been decided, alright." Upon the next comment, the Dalishman had nothing to say, turning aside to stare at the hopefully successful extraction of his comrades from the Behwmoth.
 
Dimitri grunts as the shard pierces his boot, and attempts to lay a blow into a weakpoint. He gets his Dwarf abilities ready for when he transforms.
 
"Bah, at least the company of filthy dishes is preferable to that of these arseholes," he snapped back as he made a careful descent from the heap of useless flesh.
 
Berethor sighed. "Why do you even need us? I understand, Aranel. But why Endo and I?"

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A baby. Iver could see a reddish tuft of hair on an olive-skinned baby wrapped in towels and cradled in her arms.

Miriel's eyes widened. "W-what about my sister?" She coiled her arms and the baby giggled as she pulled it in tighter.

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Telimekhtar punched over the shield, his fist angling for Dimitri's forehead just as Dimitri managed to slip his sword towards the Iron Hunter's knees.

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Another hour of excruciating jogging and their detachment reached the summit of the mountain camp. There they saw a wintery fortress hidden in the snow. The mountain corps training facility that had been renovated as of last year by King Aragorn for use of the specialized forces division.

"Hurry with those carts!" Tildir yelled at the men as they brought up two carts containing the weapons. There were nearly a hundred of those spears and three scores of knives.

"First things first. We clean up the base camp. I know the skeleton crew likes to slack up here. So get to it, soldiers!"

"You three!" He yelled at Galador and another two men. "Clean the barracks."

"You! The armoury!" He said to Pethon.

"And you two! On kitchen duty! Stat!" He pointed at Hering and Erchirion.

"Sir, yes sir!" They called in unison running off on tired feet to each facility in the outpost fort.

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"Onward," Ramdir helped Sigeric up and they rode back to the Cair Andros castle.

"Hurry it, twiddle toes. Don't want us stomping them!" Arcturus yelled at the Hobbit as he climbed onto the back of one of the rider's mounts and they took off. "What the fuck was that back there? Didn't I teach you somefin'? Or are yer heads so thick that common sense is foreign?" He shouted at both shifters.

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"I'm sorry," The Trickster said, staring at the broken pictures in his home. He shut his eyes and the house vanished around him, a mere memory. Like everything. It was all a lie. His eyes had caught onto the one of the blonde haired woman with skin fairer than snow and eyes bluer than the azure in Manwe's skies. But he wasn't speaking to her. He was looking at the child that lay between them. A little girl with tawny hair and the most precious smile in the world. "I'm so sorry."

"Uncle-"

Kill her.

"It shall be done, my Lord."

"I'm so so sorry." He remembered it all. It was coming back to him. All the memories. The pain. There was a reason he had forgotten them. The pain was too much. The betrayal. "Forgive me." The Trickster emerged from the memories and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a spear appeared in one hand, a helm upon his head, a bow on his back with a fully stacked quiver, and his old armor upon him. "I will avenge you. All of you. My fallen brothers. My slain sisters. My followers and kin. My," He remembered her voice.

"Ada, can you sing for me again?"

"N-."

"Stay. Please. Do not venture off on a fool's errand. As your wife, I beg you."

"My precious,"

I love you, Ada."

"Daughter." He snapped his fingers again. Both the memories and he vanished.
 
“Endo, can sense things, right? You knew that it was Beren attacking the ship. And, I don’t know Berethor, look, I saved your life, I-I just think you should help me because of that.” He sighed.
 
Dimitri remembers his ability to turn himself into metals and stones, and turns most of his face into mithril (or steel if he can't do mithril) to help protect against Teli's attack. He also tries to carry on with his assault on the knees.
 
Daugo scowled at the slur but said nothing about it. "Well, next time you weigh several tonnes and are a quarter of Minas Tirith's height, you can show me how to react to quick little devils like this 'un," he replied sourly, nodding towards Ha'zi.
 
The hobbit's words and nod were unacknowledged by the Haradrim for the time being, as Ha'zi instead looked towards Arcturus, scowling from his comment. He shook his head, then stared at the ground for the rest of the ride.
 
"Sir yes sir!" Hering would cry with the others. Fucking kitchen duty however, that was an entirely different thing. Sure he knew how to do it and wouldn't mind cleaning, but fucking kitchen duty? Unless they mean to lasso the utensils and stick spears into food then I suppose this is the correct place.
 
"She is the one who brought me here, one of her powers is to locate people or something. We had a nice conversation, the forest started burning, she decided to kill me, made her rethink her choices in life. A very nice women overall, got some anger issues but still" Iver replied.
 
"Wait-" Miriel stopped Iver, "She's here?"

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Endo sighed. "I'm not going to be brought along without better reason. Sorry, Card. Give me one good reason, aside from your apocalyptic virtue signalling and self-righteousness, that I should willfully seek out danger."

Berethor looked on. Almost curiosly. "I'll only follow you if you can find someone for me." He added.

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"Get to it!" Lieutenant Tildir could be heard shouting at the men outside on the field.

Hering and Erchirion had found the kitchen. It was quite the unseemly sight. The scaffolding was cracking off at the ceiling, half the drawers were creaky and shut tightly, a couple cobwebs littered the place and the sinks were filled with overflowing unwashed plates.

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Upon arriving at camp, the three shifters were reunited and ushered into a battle room as per the usual aftermath of each training was discussed within.

Captain Vardamir sat at the head table whilst Acturus took the show. The drill master really cut into them this time.

"And you didn't even attempt to go for a headshot!" He laughed at Sigeric. "You could've taken him out easily. Still that dumb Dalish knight, aye? Guess the training did little for you. Want to go back to it? I can put you in the mud for the next three months, worm!"

Then onto Daugo, "And you! Your still slow as ever. You know that the black-boy is skinnier than a starved orc. And faster than a hawk. Don't attempt to kick or grab him, wait for his assault and counter attack! Like you did at the end. Finally something intelligent."

"But you-" He cut to Ha'zi. "What sort of Southron horseshit was that? In all the battles I've ever seen that was the most deranged fighting I've ever seen. You're giving the Druédain a run for their money! Hahah! You could have cut through his legs and toppled the Behemoth without compromising your teammate but instead you failed and by Daugo's sheer incompetence did you bring him down, at the cost of the Guardian, twice! Then you suicide charge his face? Are you brain dead, boy? Go for the neck like I taught y'all! That's where your weak point is, no?" He stopped, taking a breath.

"Now, I want you three to talk this over. That was poor shit I saw out there. If I see it again..." he paused, "You won't be allowed the privelege of training combat. You'll go back to scrubbing the castle walls and shining shows. Got it, Shifters?!"

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"I highly doubt that she is here now, i believe that i forced her into rethinking her actions. Although i believe she will come here later, you seemed to be very important to her so she might try and apologize for the things she has done in the past" He said and looked at the baby. "So Hazi is a father now?" He asked.
 
"Ah" Thoruk would grumble as he sits back up, stretching. "Not realy much but enaugh sleep for a day." Thoruk would say, looking out for Arandil. ((If he's able to see him he's heading towards him))
 
Arandil finally cleared his head after day dreaming to pass the time. All hell had broken loose , but it had stopped now. He had heard snoring too after the chaos had occur ed, but he feared it could be a wild beast sleeping. But he also thought it could be that short tempered little bugger, the dwarf master. So he went to see if it wasthe dwarf, for only he could snore so loudly that even King Aragorn from the top of the White Tower could hear.
 
"I got nothing Endo” He admitted. “Well maybe the fact I brought you here; got you to safety. And for what, for all of you to leave me." He pointed out. “You can all go... hide, pretend the world's fine when it's about to go to shit." He shook his head, turning to Berethor. "Who?" He asked.
 
Daugo sucked his teeth and glared, but he agreed. It was a piss-poor performance they had made, and he had no intention of going back to cleaning duty. "You got it, chief," he said. At least his roast had not been as bad as Ha'zi's.
 
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