The Riddle of Midnight - Baau's Quest Begins - Post #12
"Tinuviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron, and together they passed through great dangers, and cast down even the Great Enemy from his throne…"
- A Knife in the Dark - Fellowship of the Ring - J.R.R. Tolkien
Baau was of the Sea Elf folk and he walked northward because he believed his betrothed was in the Shadow’s Breeding Pits. His wife-to-be was known as the Gem of the Duransil due to her dazzling intellect as well as her stunning beauty. He had traveled for from his home into these harsh northlands and now the final leagues were just in front of him.
He was wearing faded leathers that didn’t keep the chill off of his bones and carried a spear known as the Heartspear, a Duransil longbow and in his quiver was Shadowsbane, a magic arrow. Baau’s hair was made of tiny dreadlocked braids and his skin was dark.
Vorden Qell was the son of a Night King and he walked northward because he pledged to his Elven friend that he would see his marriage to him reunited with his love. “Your wedding will be in the Erethor before the Witch Queen herself,” he had proclaimed. In a world such as this, optimism is hard to come by. Vorden carried a broken Druid’s staff with only one of its iron shods attached. He had gained the staff by giving a hungry Orc shaman his pinky finger. The Orc had slurped the finger down his green throat before Vorden’s very eyes. He had been through many trials since leaving his home, the Black Tower of Theros Obsidia and all he wants is to see the Erethor, his ancestral homeland, for the first time.
Vorden wore his deep red robes and a red chrome skullcap on his bald head. He carried his staff and a lorebook, into which he wrote and sketched what he saw. A fine sword was on his hip and a longbow on his back.
Jurev was a Snow Elf from the Highborn mountains and he walked northward because when he heard of Baau’s need he was touched to the core. It was rare that one of his people got to fight for anything other than survival and he knew that it was a good and true quest. Jurev’s brother, Slovac, was overcome with grief when he heard of Vorden’s lineage, that the greatest of the Wood Elf demon-hunters was now a Night King. Slovac had left the keep six hours earlier with Laeli, younger sister to Baau’s love. Jurev knew he had to find them.
Jurev had black hair that came down in two braids that framed his face. Fur trimmed leather armor covered him from head to toe and the cold didn’t seem to touch him. He carried a spear and vicious looking Snow Elf Fighting knives along with a bow.
Hishaya was a Snow Elf maiden from the northern Erethor and she had been captured by Orcs. The fool Orcs thought she was a human because she had no ears. Karhoun had taken her with the blessings of the Uruk, so they might light fire to Bastion. She faces north because Karhoun felt an oath-debt to Baau but his wyrd guided him a different way. Hishaya, respecting the ironblooded Northman, offered to go in his stead. “I am at least as useful as you on the trail, Karhoun. Go to your business and I will stand in your place, see your oath fulfilled, see that Baau finds his love.”
Hishaya was a tiny thing, barely five feet. Her long straight, white hair came straight down her head and her blue eyes were striking. Her spear was larger than she was but she held it easily, along with paired Snow Elf fighting knives and a bow.
Together they stood outside of Karhoun Keep. They could still feel the dragon’s breath on their backs but the cold winter wind taunted them from the north.
Vorden asked, “How much of a lead do they have on us?”
Jurev responded, “Perhaps six hours. But there are ponies in the northern plains. My brother spoke of them. He is gifted with animals, knows their minds well. If they reached the steeds, they will be well on their way.”
Baau shook his head. “Laeli cannot reach her sister before I do. She intends to kill her.”
Vorden confronted his friend. “Baau, do we make our way to Laeli or do we head straight for the pits? Which is it?”
Baau’s lips were a tight line. He was not used to a leadership position. Baau enjoyed being silent and reliable but leading other Elves into battle or to certain death was new to him. He thought for a long moment before responding, “The Pits.”
Vorden rolled up his crimson sleeves. “Allow me to try something.”
Vorden stripped to the waste, ignoring the cold. He called down powerful magics. Wind whipped snow and black storm clouds rolled across the sky, summoned by Vorden Qell, son of the Shadow’s own Sorcerer. The Storm itself spoke with words of thunder from a mouth of cloud and a throne of sky.
“Great stormcloud, I am Vorden Qell, son of the Night King and I would like to humbly ask if you could take my friends and I to the Shadow’s own Breeding Pits.”
“Storm King! I am the King of Storms, Elf. You have summoned that which you cannot possibly unsummon. You have reached too high with your spells, foolish Wood Elf. What business have you in the Breeder’s Pits, are you a Shadowspawn?”
Vorden responded, head bowed, “No, great Storm King, we are searching for my friend’s love. She has been kidnapped by the Shadow for some dark purpose that we do not yet know. We seek to rescue her.”
“I have no love for the Shadow, Elf. None at all. I will take you and your friends to the Breeding Pits. I know where they are. But after you have attempted to rescue this love you must go on an errand for me. I have business in the Kaladun Mountains, among the Dwarves, and I have need of a messenger there. Will you do my chores in the Kaladrun Mountains, Elf?”
Vorden’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of errand?”
The Storm King explained, “I entrusted the Dwarves with three artifacts and wish them returned to me. I would have you deliver a missive to a Dwarven King and take the three artifacts he gives you back to the surface, so that I might hold them again. The Dwarven folk have closed their doors to the air and the sky these days and I can hold no council with them.”
Vorden nodded. “Take me and my friends to the Breeding Pits of Izrador and I will do this errand for you, great Storm King.”
The Storm King chuckled. “As if you had a choice, little Elf. You have no means to send me away or defeat my lightnings. Come, let us away.”
Powerful winds took them from the ground to the clouds. They could stand on the surface of the black storm clouds as if they were soft marshy ground, wet with dew. They watched Eredane pass beneath them through the Eyes of the Storm. Lightning lit their way.
Vorden looked pleased with himself. “This, my friends, is a fine, fine way to travel.”
"Tinuviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron, and together they passed through great dangers, and cast down even the Great Enemy from his throne…"
- A Knife in the Dark - Fellowship of the Ring - J.R.R. Tolkien
Baau was of the Sea Elf folk and he walked northward because he believed his betrothed was in the Shadow’s Breeding Pits. His wife-to-be was known as the Gem of the Duransil due to her dazzling intellect as well as her stunning beauty. He had traveled for from his home into these harsh northlands and now the final leagues were just in front of him.
He was wearing faded leathers that didn’t keep the chill off of his bones and carried a spear known as the Heartspear, a Duransil longbow and in his quiver was Shadowsbane, a magic arrow. Baau’s hair was made of tiny dreadlocked braids and his skin was dark.
Vorden Qell was the son of a Night King and he walked northward because he pledged to his Elven friend that he would see his marriage to him reunited with his love. “Your wedding will be in the Erethor before the Witch Queen herself,” he had proclaimed. In a world such as this, optimism is hard to come by. Vorden carried a broken Druid’s staff with only one of its iron shods attached. He had gained the staff by giving a hungry Orc shaman his pinky finger. The Orc had slurped the finger down his green throat before Vorden’s very eyes. He had been through many trials since leaving his home, the Black Tower of Theros Obsidia and all he wants is to see the Erethor, his ancestral homeland, for the first time.
Vorden wore his deep red robes and a red chrome skullcap on his bald head. He carried his staff and a lorebook, into which he wrote and sketched what he saw. A fine sword was on his hip and a longbow on his back.
Jurev was a Snow Elf from the Highborn mountains and he walked northward because when he heard of Baau’s need he was touched to the core. It was rare that one of his people got to fight for anything other than survival and he knew that it was a good and true quest. Jurev’s brother, Slovac, was overcome with grief when he heard of Vorden’s lineage, that the greatest of the Wood Elf demon-hunters was now a Night King. Slovac had left the keep six hours earlier with Laeli, younger sister to Baau’s love. Jurev knew he had to find them.
Jurev had black hair that came down in two braids that framed his face. Fur trimmed leather armor covered him from head to toe and the cold didn’t seem to touch him. He carried a spear and vicious looking Snow Elf Fighting knives along with a bow.
Hishaya was a Snow Elf maiden from the northern Erethor and she had been captured by Orcs. The fool Orcs thought she was a human because she had no ears. Karhoun had taken her with the blessings of the Uruk, so they might light fire to Bastion. She faces north because Karhoun felt an oath-debt to Baau but his wyrd guided him a different way. Hishaya, respecting the ironblooded Northman, offered to go in his stead. “I am at least as useful as you on the trail, Karhoun. Go to your business and I will stand in your place, see your oath fulfilled, see that Baau finds his love.”
Hishaya was a tiny thing, barely five feet. Her long straight, white hair came straight down her head and her blue eyes were striking. Her spear was larger than she was but she held it easily, along with paired Snow Elf fighting knives and a bow.
Together they stood outside of Karhoun Keep. They could still feel the dragon’s breath on their backs but the cold winter wind taunted them from the north.
Vorden asked, “How much of a lead do they have on us?”
Jurev responded, “Perhaps six hours. But there are ponies in the northern plains. My brother spoke of them. He is gifted with animals, knows their minds well. If they reached the steeds, they will be well on their way.”
Baau shook his head. “Laeli cannot reach her sister before I do. She intends to kill her.”
Vorden confronted his friend. “Baau, do we make our way to Laeli or do we head straight for the pits? Which is it?”
Baau’s lips were a tight line. He was not used to a leadership position. Baau enjoyed being silent and reliable but leading other Elves into battle or to certain death was new to him. He thought for a long moment before responding, “The Pits.”
Vorden rolled up his crimson sleeves. “Allow me to try something.”
Vorden stripped to the waste, ignoring the cold. He called down powerful magics. Wind whipped snow and black storm clouds rolled across the sky, summoned by Vorden Qell, son of the Shadow’s own Sorcerer. The Storm itself spoke with words of thunder from a mouth of cloud and a throne of sky.
“Great stormcloud, I am Vorden Qell, son of the Night King and I would like to humbly ask if you could take my friends and I to the Shadow’s own Breeding Pits.”
“Storm King! I am the King of Storms, Elf. You have summoned that which you cannot possibly unsummon. You have reached too high with your spells, foolish Wood Elf. What business have you in the Breeder’s Pits, are you a Shadowspawn?”
Vorden responded, head bowed, “No, great Storm King, we are searching for my friend’s love. She has been kidnapped by the Shadow for some dark purpose that we do not yet know. We seek to rescue her.”
“I have no love for the Shadow, Elf. None at all. I will take you and your friends to the Breeding Pits. I know where they are. But after you have attempted to rescue this love you must go on an errand for me. I have business in the Kaladun Mountains, among the Dwarves, and I have need of a messenger there. Will you do my chores in the Kaladrun Mountains, Elf?”
Vorden’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of errand?”
The Storm King explained, “I entrusted the Dwarves with three artifacts and wish them returned to me. I would have you deliver a missive to a Dwarven King and take the three artifacts he gives you back to the surface, so that I might hold them again. The Dwarven folk have closed their doors to the air and the sky these days and I can hold no council with them.”
Vorden nodded. “Take me and my friends to the Breeding Pits of Izrador and I will do this errand for you, great Storm King.”
The Storm King chuckled. “As if you had a choice, little Elf. You have no means to send me away or defeat my lightnings. Come, let us away.”
Powerful winds took them from the ground to the clouds. They could stand on the surface of the black storm clouds as if they were soft marshy ground, wet with dew. They watched Eredane pass beneath them through the Eyes of the Storm. Lightning lit their way.
Vorden looked pleased with himself. “This, my friends, is a fine, fine way to travel.”
