The Future King of Gondor Arrives
Characters: Aragorn II Elessar/ OPEN!
Location: The middle of the village.
Time: August 1, 2010/ Early Evening
Brief Summary: Aragorn arrives and demands answers.
Rating: I am going to to with a safe PG-13; just in case.
It was not a slow coming to an awakened state for Aragorn. Immediately he was aware of many things, there was no smell of horses, fires, none of the things that should have touched his senses upon waking. This was not where he was supposed to be and of this he had no doubt; for Aragorn knew he was meant to be on the trail, marching for Mordor to help bring an end to war that had plagued Middle Earth for so long. Thus ushering man into a time of peace.
He was to his feet in a matter of only seconds; he could hear those faint giggles as well as feel the slight prick of the crown upon his head. He was no fool, when his hand touched to the object he could fathom it was for protection. Somehow he had been spirited away; this was not acceptable and he would receive his answers and find his way back to the people who were counting on his strength in the upcoming battle.
Anduril scrapes against it's scabbard as the future king withdraws his weapon. His form is tense as he assesses his surroundings and situation. "Come out and face me; cease your hidden laughter and games! I've no time to waste here." He may yell; but there is no hint of panic to his voice. It would serve him no good.
This is when his eyes fall upon the village; shrouded within the fog. Aragorn is quick to discern that any answers he may seek may be found within the heart of that village. His every sense is on alert as he leaves the place he had been resting. The faint glimmer from the white jewel around his neck; Awren's Gift; her immortality and the sign of their bond lent him a strength and will to forge ahead.
His steps are determined; his pace quick and within in little time he enters the village of Demeleier. The look of a warrior upon his face; any who dare to stand in his way now shall suffer his full wrath. This was not a time to play; so close were the people of Middle Earth to peace he would not and could not abandon them now. Once he has set foot within the village, he makes his presence known. Raising the blade of his ancestors high he announces his presence in a strong unwavering voice.
"I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. I demand you return me to rightful place in the upcoming battle. If you refuse; then I will be forced to end your life. Make your choice quickly!"
Location: The middle of the village.
Time: August 1, 2010/ Early Evening
Brief Summary: Aragorn arrives and demands answers.
Rating: I am going to to with a safe PG-13; just in case.
It was not a slow coming to an awakened state for Aragorn. Immediately he was aware of many things, there was no smell of horses, fires, none of the things that should have touched his senses upon waking. This was not where he was supposed to be and of this he had no doubt; for Aragorn knew he was meant to be on the trail, marching for Mordor to help bring an end to war that had plagued Middle Earth for so long. Thus ushering man into a time of peace.
He was to his feet in a matter of only seconds; he could hear those faint giggles as well as feel the slight prick of the crown upon his head. He was no fool, when his hand touched to the object he could fathom it was for protection. Somehow he had been spirited away; this was not acceptable and he would receive his answers and find his way back to the people who were counting on his strength in the upcoming battle.
Anduril scrapes against it's scabbard as the future king withdraws his weapon. His form is tense as he assesses his surroundings and situation. "Come out and face me; cease your hidden laughter and games! I've no time to waste here." He may yell; but there is no hint of panic to his voice. It would serve him no good.
This is when his eyes fall upon the village; shrouded within the fog. Aragorn is quick to discern that any answers he may seek may be found within the heart of that village. His every sense is on alert as he leaves the place he had been resting. The faint glimmer from the white jewel around his neck; Awren's Gift; her immortality and the sign of their bond lent him a strength and will to forge ahead.
His steps are determined; his pace quick and within in little time he enters the village of Demeleier. The look of a warrior upon his face; any who dare to stand in his way now shall suffer his full wrath. This was not a time to play; so close were the people of Middle Earth to peace he would not and could not abandon them now. Once he has set foot within the village, he makes his presence known. Raising the blade of his ancestors high he announces his presence in a strong unwavering voice.
"I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. I demand you return me to rightful place in the upcoming battle. If you refuse; then I will be forced to end your life. Make your choice quickly!"