{Video/After the Feast: Open to Seelie & Unseelie}

[rangerandking]

There is a magic here that I have never encountered in all of my journeys across Middle Earth. I do not know what to call it or even where it originates. {His anger over having been taken from the final battle at the Black Gate has diminished. In its place, Aragorn looks solemn and paler than usual.} I can only ask that it returns me from whence I came. It is of the utmost importance that I do not -

{For the first time, his voice cracks and he falls silent.}

There is a battle. It will decide the fate of my world. If I do not fight within it; if I do not lend my strength to my men, more of them will perish. {Perhaps they will lose heart. Perhaps all of them will die in the face of their greatest fear. All of the possibilities are incredibly grim.} I must return.

My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and I am the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor. My place is with my people and my friends.

{No feast can distract him; food is naught but a texture against his tongue. Now isn't the time for joy and festivities. Rather, his entire attention is fixed upon that which he can't see anymore.

The Black Gate.

How far has he been transported? And by what sorcery? He holds onto his sword - the reforged Narsil - tightly, ready and waiting to draw it free from its sheathe.}

Comments

(getting away from the monarchs :c)

[orcsurfing]

[ A bond of friendship forged through blood, fire and suffering. And then years of happiness in peace, for Legolas, until the one enemy none of them could fight truly bent Aragorn's back and put him to eternal sleep, to what awaited him beyond being a son of the Men.

Legolas welcomes the ease in which they fall back to the old ways. It uplifts his heart, the comfort of the old banter. He hears all he needs to hear beneath these words, in the tone so soothing to his soul. And soothed, he allows himself a response ever mirthful. ]

Various and unknown until our arrival marks their discovery; be it creatures to slay, unknown even to the tomes of Caer Glaem's vast library, or leaders of the clans of the old aelfen kingdom to sway.

Gather what supplies you see fitting, and gather information should you find yourself with time on your hands. Read of that old aelfen kingdom and what has come of it, its culture and its customs, for the elves of Drabwurld in ways they are similar to my kin, but differences there are many as well. For 'tis a task I have neglected, during my short stay at Caer Glaem.

[ Such as the drows of the Aellyn clan. This failure still stings, but Legolas looks ahead instead of dwelling on the past. He's learned from that mistake, it's time to move on. ]

But worry not for maps, Aragorn! My guides, I think, may make a grand impression when you meet them, they lead the ways swiftest and safest and their loyalty is unquestionable. Dryads they are called in this world, though akin to ents they are. Merely in a shape more similar to daughters of the Men.

[ As they were the ones to lead him through the dark forest of La Llorona, always pulling him forward, not letting him take this one sort of rest no elf should ever choose. ]

(he's got a protective aragorn now. >8( )

[rangerandking]

Gimli has a good handle on supplies; I will set my sights on the library. {The information intrigues him and he wants to memorize all he can before Legolas arrives.} You needn't worry about completing the task any longer. I shall relay the information to you when we next meet.

{His eyebrows raise and he blinks. Dryads? A remarkable race, it seems.}

The love of nature is strong within them no doubt. But what of their physical might? Would they be allies worth having in battle?

{It saddens him that they must consider such traits. He rubs his thumb against the stubble on his chin, concern easy to see in his eyes. The well-being of his friends is number one on his current list of priorities - and he already feels miserably behind.}

My blade is ready to confront any foe. I need not know a name to silence them.