Chapter 5: Imtarumbar

Ranciryon turned to Daern and Kal. "My heart feels heavy that we may be too late already. Quickly must we press on. I feel that the main entrance, though likely more perilous, must be our goal. Within it we should find our answers quickest. However, with only us three, it would seem to behoove us that we should remain as one. Therefore, I shall acquiesce as to which door we choose but remain adamant in our need for unseeming haste."
Kal responded by saying, ""I think we should get some shelter. Here the weather is bad and I am starting to feel quite cool. Maybe if anybody of you feels enough strong it would be good to go tell the others to come with us. It would be good to be together, in the case we are attacked. Eventually we can get some useful info from the goblin "
Daern responded by saying, "Alright, both of you start to explore and I'll set off again for the party to bring them over. But don't go too far." So saying, the tall avari set off back into the snow, his for soon swallowed by the whiteness.

After he had gone, Ranciryon tried the main door. The latch released and the door swung open, though not without protest from hinges that had not been used or oiled in years.
"After you," Kal volunteered.
Ranciryon nodded quietly and proceeded inside, followed by Kal.
As they walked inside, they could see light flooding in from three very large skylights above. The floors of the room were of polished marble, while the walls were wainscoted in maple, topped by a garden mural showing vines, fountains and woods populated by deer.
In the southern wall which they had entered through, there were three doors, all of worked bronze and wood. One of these was the double door they had used to enter. To either side stood a companion door and there were set no less than six tall windows in this wall, all grimed and dirty and covered with cobwebs. In the middle of both east and west walls stood other doorways. Above the western door, on a shelf above the door stood a carved statuette of a little gargoyle. There was no such shelf above the eastern door, but it's surface was scarred and pitted, as if someone had tried to cut it open, or perhaps to destroy it. Facing the entrance, on the northern wall were three more doors, companions to those on the southern wall. The only difference being that there were no windows. Instead, what were probably two large framed portraits between the doors, to either side of the double door. The subject of neither could be seen for their gilded frames anchored such a mass of cobwebs that all was obscured. However, the dagger plunged into the lefthand painting was definitely visible, it's blackened handle carved to resemble a serpent entwined about a flower.
Ranciryon was the first to move, making for the dagger to examine it more closely. But even as he approached it, the floor gave way beneath him and he crashed to the floor below. (Ranciryon take 19 hits and an A crush attack, the results of which are: Strike to your thigh. Take an additional 5 hits. You are forced to parry against any attack the next round. You are unconscious) Kal yelled that he would get some rope, but the Numenorean did not answer, apparently unconscious or dead from the fall. Struggling to get the rope out of his pack, Kal realized with dread that he had used it to tie the Goblin, Pric, who was back with the rest of the party. Kal crawled gingerly to the hole, lest it cave in any more, trying to peer into the darkness. He could see that Ranciryon lay in a small stone room, the center of which was an oval pool, whose water glowed with a strange translucence. As he looked down, Kal felt movement underneath his hands. Pulling back with a gasp, Kal saw the that floor was closing up, as if it were healing itself. Before he could think of what to do, the floor had closed, and Kal was left alone.
Feeling hungry, he pulled out some rations and ate to regain his strength and sort out what to do. Hopefully the rest of the party would arrive soon.
Just as he thought this, Taurvantar, Eoras with the goblin, Ordain, who was holding the baby, and then Fred walked through the door. Daern was not with them, nor was the other elf.
"Where are the others?" Taurvantar asked.
Kal shook his head. "I don't have good news," he told them.
Eoras groaned. This wasn't going well.
As soon as Fred came in, a gust of cold wind buffeted them and the the door slammed shut behind Fred. The baby began to cry.

When Ranciryon awoke, he found himself cast into darkness. Feeling for his pack, he found with touch his flint and steel and striking an ember, he used some shavings he had brought to fan a flame, from which he lit a candle.
The room he was in was 20' square, and set in one wall was a door, but all the other walls appeared blank. Set in the middle of the floor, bordered by a raised portion of seamless stone was a pool of water. But as Ranciryon brought the candle to it's surface, the liquid reacted by glowing, its translucent depths beckoning him to enter the water and find rest there. Ranciryon shook his head and gathered his wits. There was no one else in the room and the ceiling above him showed no evidence of a hole or having been broken. It appeared to be solid stone. Ranciryon rested his bruised body, trying to decide what to do.

Fred, gathering his wits, fought his way back up to the stairway and gingerly retrieved his things, on the lookout for anything savage or scary. Carefully, he made his way down the long walk, hugging the building and peering into dirty windows along the way. In one, he was startled to see the almost transparent image of a young girl, the one who had approached in the forest. She seemed to be beckoning him with a pleading look on her face. Frozen in terrour, Fred blinked and the woman was gone. He decided that he would not enter the house alone after all.
Making his way to the southeast corner, Fred settled onto a chair. There was no one there, but tracks down the steps, but also into the house through the double doors. Gathering his courage, Fred breathed hard on his hands and started to work on the lock.
He had been at this for some time when he heard someone approaching from the direction he had come. The muffled gurgle of a baby let him know that it was the rest of the party.

"Good luck, Tirion," Taurvantar yelled to the elf above the howling wind as Ordain used enchantment to warm the Sindar. "Do not take any chances, but head back to the house if you can't find him." Tirion nodded and trudged back to where he thought the bonfire was, feeling with his feet for the missing hobbit. The elf disappeared from sight.

Tirion walked for only a brief bit, but could find no evidence of Fred. He tried calling for the hobbit, but the wind swallowed his voice with a biting howl that froze the elf to his bones. Counting heartbeats, Tirion reached his limit and, not having found Fred, turned to return. But he saw that he could see the direction he had come from. He could not see anything for the whiteness of the storm. His tracks had disappeared even as he made them and Tirion, making his best reckoning, turned to where he hoped the mansion and shelter lay. He trudged on until a ghostly shape appeared out of the storm, all clad in white. Grasping his weapon, Tirion made himself ready.

Daern had only progressed a little while before it became evident that he was lost. In the whiteness of the storm he could make out neither house, nor fire nor any of the lost party. He turned to go back but when he had taken enough steps to reach to the mansion, he found himself in the middle of nothing. He was lost. Trying again, Daern trudged on through the blinding snow, its fluries stinging his eyes and chilling him wherever the wind found a small opening through his clothes. After what seemed forever, Daern came upon a segment of ruined wall, the same wall that circled the mansion, but where the house was, he could not tell. Following the wall for what seemed like forever, he came to a corner, and using that for reckoning, turned to where he hope the mansion lay. He trudged on until a ghostly shape appeared out of the storm, all clad in white. Grasping his weapon, Daern made himself ready.

All of a sudden Tirion and Daern each recognized the other elf. Screaming a joy that could not be heard above the wind, the two raced for each other and greeted each other in Sindarin.
"I am glad to see you, Daern," Tiron yelled to be heard. "Where are the others?"
"I was hoping you knew," Daern yelled back. "I am lost. I don't know which way the mansion is. I came to find the rest of the party."
"They are already at the mansion," Tirion told him loudly. "I am looking for the hobbit, who appears to have lost himself. Have you seen him?"
Daern shook his head.
Their joy turned to the sober realization that now they were lost themselves, not alone, but still lost the same. Using Daern's best guess, the two climbed through the building snow, hoping to find the house before they succumbed to the cold.
With luck, after what seemed hours, they at last came onto the house, climbing up the broad steps into the shelter of the porch.
Not having an easy time speaking from a frozen mouth, Tirion mumbled to Daern, "Taurvantar and the others said they would try to enter the house."
Daern nodded and pointed to the double doors. "That is the way Ranciryon and Kal went in. I suggest we follow them. What do you want to do?"

As moments came and went, Taurvantar realized that Tirion would not return.
"Damn!" he cursed. Looking at Ordain, he realized he could not leave the mage and baby Tarma alone. It was all the magician could do to tend the child, and Eoras was busy watching Pric on his tethered rope, making sure the goblin created no mischief.
"Our strength seems to disappear every moment. Perhaps this is the intent of the evil here," Eoras yelled above the wind.
Taurvantar had to agree. Now they were only three of their original number.
"Let's make for shelter," he suggested loudly. Ordain and Eoras nodded, so Taurvantar drew his sword and led the way to the house.
The foundation of the building was 4-5 feet high and built of mortared stonework. The building was mostly two stories, though parts of it rose higher. On the side that they faced, the party could see that a great covered walkway ran the entire length of the western side of the house. On this side, the walkway ended into a double door and this was closest to the huge three storey glass annex that jutted out from this end. This was the glass annex that was closest to the temple and its walled garden of stone monuments. Off the western walkway were set no less than eleven doors, between each of which was a beautiful crystal window, topped by coloured glass each depicting a different pastoral scene. As they climbed onto the porch, that could see small benches scattered about, as if to offer comfort and rest to those who wished to linger outside in fairer weather. Two railed stairways led up to the porch on this side. The patio was twenty feet wide at all points and to the west went on for 250' before it turned the corner to a side that they could not see.
Taurvantar led the way and looking down, he noted a set of footprints leading south. He motioned for the others to be cautious. The spread of prints suggested small feet, perhaps Freds, perhaps another goblins. Cautiously approaching the southeast corner, Taurvantar peered around, only to see Fred's smiling face.
"Boo" the hobbit said.
Taurvantar was flabergasted. "Fred! What are you doing here? We thought you lost in the storm. Tirion has himself gotten lost trying to find you."
The hobbit shrugged. "Sorry, I just got lost myself and this is where I ended up."
"Where are the others?" Ordain asked, "Have you seen them?"
"That I haven't," Fred replied, "But I think they may have gone this way, though without a key is a mystery to me since I haven't been able to crack this door - yet."
Eoras tried the other two doors. They were locked as well.
"They all seem to be locked," Fred explained. The hobbit started back on the door again. "There!" he announced. "I thought I'd have it soon." Triumphantly, Fred pushed the door open.
Taurvantar brushed him aside and led the way into shelter. Eoras with Pric, Ordain and the babe and then finally Fred followed behind.
"A little thank you would have been nice," Fred muttered.
As they walked inside, they could see light flooding in from three very large skylights above. The floors of the room were of polished marble, while the walls were wainscoted in maple, topped by a garden mural showing vines, fountains and woods populated by deer.
In the southern wall which they had entered through, there were three doors, all of worked bronze and wood. One of these was the double door they had used to enter. To either side stood a companion door and there were set no less than six tall windows in this wall, all grimed and dirty and covered with cobwebs. In the middle of both east and west walls stood other doorways. Above the western door, on a shelf above the door stood a carved statuette of a little gargoyle. There was no such shelf above the eastern door, but it's surface was scarred and pitted, as if someone had tried to cut it open, or perhaps to destroy it. Facing the entrance, on the northern wall were three more doors, companions to those on the southern wall. The only difference being that there were no windows. Instead, what were probably two large framed portraits between the doors, to either side of the double door. The subject of neither could be seen for their gilded frames anchored such a mass of cobwebs that all was obscured. However, the dagger plunged into the lefthand painting was definitely visible, it's blackened handle carved to resemble a serpent entwined about a flower. But more interesting than that was Kal, who was sitting on the floor, having a bite to eat. He was alone and Daern and Ranciryon were nowhere to be seen.
"Where are the others?" Taurvantar asked.
Kal shook his head. "I don't have good news," he told them.
Eoras groaned. This wasn't going well.
As soon as Fred came in, a gust of cold wind buffeted them and the the door slammed shut behind Fred. The baby began to cry.

Tirion and Daern each tried to open the doors in succession, neither had any success.
"What do you say we go around the side and try another door?" Daern asked his friend.
"Doesn't seem but that we have much choice," Tirion replied.
A howling gust of wind blasted the two elves from behind. Daern absently turned around.
"Tirion! Look!"
As Tirion turned, he could see what had alarmed the Avari so. Once again, the visage of the lady of the woods greeted him. Sadly dressed in somber blues, she advanced upon them with a sad smile. Readying their weapons, she passed through the main doors. Both heard an audible click as she passed through.

Taurvantar tried the main door while Eoras listened for any noises at the other doors. Just as Taurvantar released the latch as hopelessly locked, an ivory hand appeared through the door, as if reaching for his.own hand. Taurvantar yelled, catching the attention of the party, and stepped back a healthy distance from the door.
Even Kal, who had been reaching for the knife imbedded in the unrevealed painting stopped, and turned to regard what had caused Taurvantar to scream.
As Taurvantar backed off from the door, a radiant figure of a young woman stepped through, wearing a blue dress of costly fashion, her smile was warm but her eyes sad and deep, like pools of well water, dark and frightening in how they regarded the party. Fred recognized her at once.
Taurvantar made as if to speak to her, but she ignored him and stepped over to where Kal reached out for the dagger. Interposing herself between he and it, she shook her head with a pleading look and begged him with her eyes, though no voice issued from her mouth. Pointing at the dagger, she shook her head again, as if to say no, then, there was a sudden gust of wind that buffeted the room from nowhere. The wind tore at the form of the girl, shredding her image even as she seemed to cry out in fear. The tattered form of the maiden sank from sight into the floor that Kal had said Ranciryon had disappeared into.

Just then, there was a click at the door, and the two frozen forms of Tirion and Daern stepped through.

Ranciryon ate his meager meal, hoping to refortify himself before he ventured to explore his new surroundings. Before he had finished, though, a figure descended upon him from the ceiling above.
It was the form of a lovely young woman, dressed in fine clothes of blue and white. Her form floated to hover over the pool of water, and regarding Ranciryon with sad eyes, she held up her wrist and made a slicing motion across it and then pointed down to the pool below her. She repeated this motion once more. Then she looked up, fear upon her face and made as if to scream, but no sound came forward. A biting wind came into the room from nowhere, sounding like the wrath of the deamon, and while it froze Ranciryon, its effects upon the vision of the maiden were more startling. Her form seemed to be torn to shreds and disappeared from sight altogether.

(all characters mentioned here, loose 2 off temp. Co stat.)

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