======================= The King's Reckoning ======================== IC time is: < mid-morning > IC day is: Valanya IC date is: 2 Cermie Moon phase: Last Quarter IC year is: 3184 S.A. --------------------------------------------------------------------- RL time: Thu May 31 14:16:58 2001 ===================================================================== LOCATION: Umbar, Eastern Gates At this place, the outer wall of Umbar comes to its full height of a hundred and fifty feet. Topped with thick battlements, girt around with towers and overhanged with stone bastions, it certainly looks impregnable by any kind of assault from the land side. The fifty-feet height of the gate itself is wrought from stout oak and held together by criss-crossing straps of steel that run along the wood. Sentries, like shadows atop the wall, skirt the battlements in their prescribed fashion, and calm reigns over the city which laughs at anything that Middle-earth could muster against it. Stepping through the gates will take you inside the Numenorean stronghold of Umbar, if the guards let you of course. To the north and south of you, the famous gardens of Umbar encircle the city in a belt of ever-green vegetation. Contents: Azrien Marazon Obvious exits: South leads to Umbar, the Garden Belt. North leads to Umbar, the Garden Belt. East leads to The Umbar Road: Umbar Crossroads. Through The Gates leads to In the Shadow of Eastern Gate. ===================================================================== [Marazon:] Morning and the sun is already bright above the city of Umbar. And yet, this is perhaps the best hour of the day, for the freshness of the night still linger and the fiery globe isnt yet at its zenith. There near the wide eastern gates, a crowd of men goes in and out, the number yet high despite the near orcish threat. Many Numeneroans but also many even if less workers of near or afar, carrying goods or stones to the battlements. [Barzag:] One group of workers is even now engaged in repairs to the wall just north of the gate. Ureziran, senior mason, stands supervising his workers, punctuated by much shouting and cursing, for they seem to be slow to respond to his commands. One look at the workers suggests a possible reason for this, for they are no Numenoreans. Shorter than most in Umbar, broad and swarthy skinned, these are Rhevain labourers. Most of the passers by who notice the foreigners turn their heads away quickly, trying to pretend that these lesser Men do not even exist. [Marazon:] Standing high on the battlement, his brigandine weighing heavily on his shoulders, Marazon disturns his glance from the plains and once beautiful garden that lies just beneath the mighty walls. Turning to the inner city, he watches the group of worker and wipes his brow, the sun taking its toll from both Rhevain and Dunedain no matter of blood or height. Sighing and cursing about his assignement here, the seaman takes a few step down, brow furrowed and his glance falls on the shouting Ureziran. "Make silence ! I cant endure the sun and your shout !" [Barzag:] Ureziran is quick to retort. "What would you have me do? Is it not enough that I cannot rely on men of Umbar for labour, but must use these half-witted savages?" Squinting along the angle of the wall, he notices a cracked stone at the edge of the battlements. Muttering, "This should be replaced," he turns away from the guardsman and his gaze falls on one of the Rhevain. "You!" he shouts, his voice just as loud as before, "bring up some of the black stone - from that wagon." He gestures briefly. [Marazon:] "I dont care, do whatever you need but in silence" Marazon cuts the mastermason and slips the towel he used to wipe his brow in his belt. A thin smile shifts on the sailor lips as he turns away and spare his anger on one of the worker, just as he did himself. "By the horns of Osse" booms Marazon "You dont understand Adunaic !" [Barzag:] The Rhevain labourer listens intently, raises his head to stare at the seaman. The man's amber eyes are calm, a frown furrowing his brow, as if he is struggling to understood the seaman's speech. Malformed lips twitch as he struggles to answer. " What you say?" he asks, carefully enunciating each word. A shout from below catches his attention, and he turns to receive one of the block that has been passed up by one of his fellow workers. Meanwhile, Ureziran's temper is not improving. "Silence, indeed!" he mutters sourly. "I'll do as I please." Addressing Marazon, he says curtly, "You're in the way, seaman. Go do your guarding elsewhere, if you please." He motions to a spot a little further along the wall. [Marazon:] Marazon furrows a brow at the halting speech of the worker. "Later man later" he says checking his growing anger. "No I dont please, and *you* will go away, willy or nilly you will go, mason. I have this wall to guard and I'll do it as I see fit. Go now" he finishes dropping his right hand to his belt, just near the tall hilt of his sword. "You" he returns his attention to Barzag, "Do quickly so this man can move away." [Barzag:] Ureziran pauses to wipe a trickle of sweat from his brow - whether is due to heat or anger it is hard to tell. The labourer Barzag stares from one man to another, obviously not understanding the whole conversation. Hearing Marazon's words, he peers towards the seaman in an effort to read his features. Squinting into the bright sun, he lays the block down and raises a hand to shield his eyes from the glare. " Do... quickly," he murmurs, repeating the words he has understood. He turns back to the perspiring Ureziran to ask, " What you want? Where stone to go?" [Marazon:] Marazon considers the mason in silence for long seconds, a wolfish grin drawing itself on his features and finally swings on his heels, the heavy armor buckles and rings tinkling in the sudden silence only broken by Barzag murmur. Making room for the worker should he need some, Marazon fixes back his glance on the blur line of the eastern horizon. [Barzag:] Ureziran growls in anger, and raises a fist - then stops, as if uncertain who he wishes to direct his anger against. He gestures towards the place where the cracked stone lies, and takes out a heavy chisel, carefully beginning to loosen the mortar round it. Barzag watches in silence for a while, before reaching out a hand towards the tool. " I understand," he says softly, this time in his own tongue rather than the foreign Adunaic. " You wish the old stone removed, and the - the binding paste renewed." Ureziran hesitates, scowling as he listens the torrent of words - then shrugs, and hands the tool over, watching suspiciously for a few minutes. He then turns his attention back to Marazon. "What do you see there," he asks in an effort to be conciliatory. "What news of the Orcish encampment?" [Marazon:] Marazon resumes his watch as the first sound of stone work fills his ear. "It is out of view, beyond this ridge" he replies absently, waving a hand toward the said rideg even if unseen to the mason. "How long will it take ?" he asks, directing his words at the Rhevain. [Barzag:] The Rhevain stops his labours, frowns and shakes his head. glancing up at the sky to measure the sun's position. " Long as... as" He shrugs his shoulders, not having the words to answer. He stops for a moment to wipe his brow, leaving a smudge of grey dust, and returns industriously to his work. Ureziran laughs softly. "You expect answers from a Hillman?" he asks with a smug grin. "Then, my friend, you will surely be disappointed. But, to answer your question - not long. I no more wish to be here in this sweltering heat than you do." He snorts, and glances round to see how the rest of his workers are doing. [Marazon:] "Good" simply and shortly replies Marazon, his blue grey glance swaying between the two men. "And remember silence is of gold... It's too hot to shout anyway" Marazon says, nearly chuckling. "Have a nice day both." he finishes and gathering a bit of his cloak in his hand moves along the battlement a few yards away. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Participants: MARAZON (#5509) Alias: J Gender: M Species: Men Culture: Numenor Kin: Dunedain Title: Azrunarad, Azrubel o Ayadobroth, "S Faction: Arnari IC INFO: The second son of a four child family, Marazon was born in the fourthieth year of Ar-Gimilzor's reign and grew up in Andunie, in the middle of the strife between Kings men and Elendili. Offspring of a mixed wedding, he has became an Adventurer as soon as he was ripe to and traveled far and wide, halting little time in the place he visited save of late in Umbar. He is known for good or bad, for his temperance concerning politic and for his susceptibility concerning himself and his family, especially his younger and strong headed sister, Roziliel. DESCRIPTION: Fair skinned, tow headed and blue eyed, this dunedain stands a little inches above the commone height of a Numeneroan. He is strongly built, moving with ease, be him armored or not. His nose is strong and long, his chin, free of any beard, volunteer and a hint of sadness bless the arching of his blonde eyebrow. Small plates of steel closely sewn on flexible leather cover his chest and limbs. Each is a little mirror in itself and reflect the light, living kaleidoscope on the body of the seaman. A jeweled belt, wearing the insignias of the Sea Kings, supports along with a broad baldric of dark leather, the heavy scabbard of a not less heavy broadsword. High boots designed not for riding but for long walk on the slippy deck of ships reach as far as his knees, where the steel armor halts. Often he wears a finely wocen cloak of deep indigo wool around his shoulder, covering his chest and hanging behind him to his back knee while letting his neck free and often, a cold and threathening bow wrought in black steel is in his hand. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BARZAG (#5159) Alias: Gender: M Species: Men Culture: Numenor Kin: Rhevain Title: Player Faction: None IC INFO: Here is one on whom it seems fortune has frowned, one despised by his own people. Barzag is one of the Hill-Folk, known to the Elves and the Edain as the Rhevain or Men of Twilight. He is an itinerant flint knapper by trade; a little-valued position in Hillman society, yet a job he grew to love. Barzag was one of a group transported to Umbar as unskilled labourers to repair the city walls; he was one of the few who went voluntarily. Barzag is currently in his mid-twenties. He is a loner by nature, being accustomed to the scorn of others, but is strongly loyal to those few who do win his trust. It is rare for him to show open anger, although he does have a tendency to bear grudges. DESCRIPTION: At first glance this man appears a normal specimen of the Hill-Folk. He is tall for his kind, perhaps about six feet in height, and his shoulders are slightly hunched in the manner of one who spends much of the time looking downward. His skin is swarthy, weather-beaten from long days spent outdoors, his build rugged. From the man's slightly stooped posture, you deduce that he is used to carrying heavy loads. His feet are encased in crude leather moccasins, worn and scuffed. He wears trousers of some coarse greyish material, although it is hard to tell whether this is the cloth's original colour or the result of fading. There is a tear across one knee that is sorely in need of mending. A mass of unruly dark hair hangs loose about his shoulders, brushing the top of his tunic, which is of a soft, supple leather; it has been subject to prolonged wear, judging by the shiny patches and ingrained creases, and surely cannot last for much longer. Your gaze wanders upwards, towards this man's face - and halts, for therein lies the reason for the distrust and fear he inspires in many. His chin is hidden by a short, dark beard, carefully trimmed. But his upper lip, upon which only a few sparse bristles grow, is cloven in the manner of a beast, and twisted slightly so that his mouth appears to be set in a perpetual sneer. Above this, his nose is long and straight; amber eyes generally regard the observer coolly from beneath lowering black brows. Were it not for the wrongness of his mouth, he might even be considered handsome, but his disfigurement prevents this.