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Citadel of the Iron Crown - Burglars in Mirkwood
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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 4194348" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p><em>Normally,</em> Aranel thought to herself as she wafted through the underbrush, <em>I could have retired by now.</em> The thought had a wry tinge to it, but she found she didn't really mind. The forest at night had a beauty all its own, and she easily saw by moon and star here at the edges. </p><p></p><p>The circumstances that led to the necessity were less than auspicious though. The Men of the logging camp had taken from the stand near the old oak. Perhaps, as they claimed, it was merely a mistake. After all, Men lacked good eyes for night work...and Aranel believed it was most likely done at night, when there were long hours she did not range and keep watchful eyes on the lumberers.</p><p></p><p>So now she had to make sure there were no further mistakes.</p><p></p><p>From the thinner, younger trees of the forest skirts she could see the firelight twinkling like a fallen star amidst the endless rolling brush and earth that rose up into the mountains behind. The sounds of laughter and bellowing could be heard, though faint even to her ears. Aranel paused for a moment, wondering if they would act differently if they'd known she was lurking nearby. </p><p></p><p>She was comely to the eyes of Men; fair skinned with dark mysterious eyes and dark hair she kept in a single braided tail when out and about. In Thranduil's house she would let it down and appear in a gilded gown of green and gold, and wear garlands of flowers in her hair. Here she wore a tough leather jerkin reinforced with tiny metal ingots, each one painstakingly crafted with images of trees and flowers in relief. Though leather, by long and patient tanning and working, it had the suppleness of cloth yet would resist tearing from thorn and branch and even knife if it struck a glancing blow. Her breeches were lighter, of a finely worked cloth that was strong as heavier fabric, but slowed her not at all, and dyed a deep olive shade that with the brown of her jerkin made it simple to hide among foliage and brush. In a case across her back was her elfcrafted bow and a quiver. At her left hip hung her sword, at her right her other quiver. She carried little in the way of supplies, for she knew much of how to gather what she needed when she needed it.</p><p></p><p>The moment of quiet was shattered though by a loud cry of THIEF, as clear to Aranel as if it had been shouted in her ear.</p><p></p><p><em>So now they steal from each other, as well as from the wood?</em></p><p></p><p>Curious, she crept closer to the camp to see what was afoot.</p><p></p><p>(let me know if I need any rolls <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 4194348, member: 4936"] [i]Normally,[/i] Aranel thought to herself as she wafted through the underbrush, [i]I could have retired by now.[/i] The thought had a wry tinge to it, but she found she didn't really mind. The forest at night had a beauty all its own, and she easily saw by moon and star here at the edges. The circumstances that led to the necessity were less than auspicious though. The Men of the logging camp had taken from the stand near the old oak. Perhaps, as they claimed, it was merely a mistake. After all, Men lacked good eyes for night work...and Aranel believed it was most likely done at night, when there were long hours she did not range and keep watchful eyes on the lumberers. So now she had to make sure there were no further mistakes. From the thinner, younger trees of the forest skirts she could see the firelight twinkling like a fallen star amidst the endless rolling brush and earth that rose up into the mountains behind. The sounds of laughter and bellowing could be heard, though faint even to her ears. Aranel paused for a moment, wondering if they would act differently if they'd known she was lurking nearby. She was comely to the eyes of Men; fair skinned with dark mysterious eyes and dark hair she kept in a single braided tail when out and about. In Thranduil's house she would let it down and appear in a gilded gown of green and gold, and wear garlands of flowers in her hair. Here she wore a tough leather jerkin reinforced with tiny metal ingots, each one painstakingly crafted with images of trees and flowers in relief. Though leather, by long and patient tanning and working, it had the suppleness of cloth yet would resist tearing from thorn and branch and even knife if it struck a glancing blow. Her breeches were lighter, of a finely worked cloth that was strong as heavier fabric, but slowed her not at all, and dyed a deep olive shade that with the brown of her jerkin made it simple to hide among foliage and brush. In a case across her back was her elfcrafted bow and a quiver. At her left hip hung her sword, at her right her other quiver. She carried little in the way of supplies, for she knew much of how to gather what she needed when she needed it. The moment of quiet was shattered though by a loud cry of THIEF, as clear to Aranel as if it had been shouted in her ear. [i]So now they steal from each other, as well as from the wood?[/i] Curious, she crept closer to the camp to see what was afoot. (let me know if I need any rolls :)) [/QUOTE]
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