Old Habits Die Hard

[Chi'Gandir]

A velvetey blackness settled over Bree, and as the hours dwindled away, so did the consciousness of its inhabitants. Many were lost to sleep in their homes, but even in the late hours of the night the Prancing Pony still roared with excitement. Wherever one turned, however, there were men slumping into unconsciousness from drinking too much, yet they were replaced almost instantaneously.

It was here that an Elf sat in the shadows, ever watching the night life of Arnor's residents, as he had for many weeks past. He would wait here for as long as it would be needed...he would find Núrutyáve once more. It had been many years since they last met, and he yearned for the thrill of an adventure, as it had been of old. His black hair cascaded to his shoulders, obscuring his left eye. Milky white eyes with the remnants of green still haunting him gazed eternally at the room, unable to physically see.

His hands were hidden from view, under the table, to avoid attention. He listened to the noise erupting from the occupants of the room, using it to map out his surroundings quite flawlessly. "Barliman!" He called to the keeper, his voice coming out fluidly, yet thick as poison. Chi'Gandir stood, approaching the bar and Barliman Butterbur. "The key to my room, as always." He extended one pale hand, at the sight of which brought immediate repulsion to Butterbur. "Oh, come now. How many times have I been here now, and the hands still disgust you?" Chi'Gandir scoffed, "Grow a backbone, insolent fool," He spat at the barkeeper after taking the key from him.

He turned on his heels and made his way towards his usual room, listening idly to the conversation. A new-comer turned to an older man, one who was a regular patron of the inn, asking "Who's that fellow over there? What's wrong with his hands?" With which he got a reponse, "I don't quite know, sonny, but rumors have it that he's one of them there vampires that used to be in the service of Sauron that escaped the wrath of the great lord Aragorn." Chi'Gandir let out a short, bittersweet laugh to himself, so soft that none heard it. He had seen Aragorn fight...if seeing could be used in context when talking about a blind elf. It would have been of little effort that he would have bested the Lord of Men.

His disfigured, claw-like hand turned the key in his door, locking it behind him. He smirked as he heard the vicious panting of a man in the corner, "Good, you're awake." The Elf smirked, approaching the farthest corner. A man sat, chained to a chair, shirtless. He was built fairly well, although his good features were marred by various wounds that adorned his body. Somehow he had survived numerous torture sessions with the demonic Elf, losing much flesh and blood in the process. In one of the first experiments, Chi'Gandir had successfully destroyed the man's vocal chords, impairing him from alerting others to the destruction occuring not ten metres from their presence.

"Well...then..." Chi'Gandir smirked, leaning down to let the frightened man stare into the white abyss of his eyes. "Where shall we start tonight?" He moved one claw up to his chest, digging in with his nail and dragging down, tracing a steady stream of blood which he proceeded to lick from his fingers. "You taste almost as good as your wife did..." Chi whispered into the man's ear, "Before she died." He laughed.

The man looked up at Chi'Gandir, despair quickly melting into a furious will to live and destroy the Elf which had tortured him for many nights. "Oh, now now, don't bother getting mad. That won't get you anywhere." He slapped the man, the shock of which shivered through his whole body as blood poured down from his cheek where the claw had met. After a moment of contempalting what to do, the Elf used one hand to restrain the man's head and open his mouth, while the other hand grabbed a firm grip on his tongue.

In quick retaliation, the man used all of his strength to bite down upon Chi'Gandir's hand, who responded flawlessly by driving one finger up past the roof of the man's mouth. Blood spilt into his mouth, and bone cracked. Excruciating pain erupted into every part of his body, for the demonic Elf was not through yet. He proceeded to rip out the man's tongue, tossing it to the ground and squishing it under his boot in the process.

"There's alot of blood in your mouth. Wouldn't want you to drown just yet..." He smirked, leaning forward and pushing his head to face towards the ground. In great heaps, blood splattered against the ground, "You'll live. You'll be very weak, but you'll live for now." He grinned. "Because I have so much more to do with you."

[Envin]

{ OOC: No, I am not in two places at once. This happens after the Imladris escapades. }

Núrutyáve had perhaps had enough of young Elven flesh to last him several weeks, before his corrupt urges would require he partake again. He left Rivendell behind him some days ago, walking casually through the forests and across the plains. He slept and breakfasted upon Weathertop – still Amon Sul to his mind no matter how times and men and names had changed, pushing onward with the dawn. He knew not for what he walked this time. Perhaps it was simply to walk. Perhaps some unrevealed destiny beckoned to him. He was content to let things present themselves. Núrutyáve was not one for planning, other than his brilliant schemes. He preferred to allow life to happen as it would, without needing to have a schedule mapped. Much more satisfying that way, as he thought. Perhaps it was.

Eventually as he neared the Bree-land the thought came to him of spending an evening or two in his old haunts at the Pony. He had spent much time there with a close comrade through the years, and if he had a home anywhere, it could perhaps be said to be Barly’s old inn. He did not quicken his pace, however – comfortable to the last in taking things as they came. He had to admit to himself, however, that there was a strong possibility that he might meet that friend up at the inn ahead. The odds were not overly in his favor, but the chance was there. That would be satisfying indeed, for of the few pleasures a fellow such as Núrutyáve took, the more simple ones were homely food and time spent with Chi’Gandir. It would be incorrect to term them lovers, for such a thing was as far from both their thoughts as possible, evidenced also by Núrutyáve’s recent excursions and delights taken in Imladris. Theirs, rather, was that kind of fraternal kinship and bond that is oft misunderstood in these latter days. It would be pleasant indeed to sit to meat with his old friend and to toast themselves, and share tales of their adventures.

Evening came and waned, and darkness began to wax full, with a silvery fingered moon. Núrutyáve was no stranger to being abroad at night, but also he knew that he had been afoot for many hours and could quite use rest. Again, however, he knew by the landmarks that Bree was only an hour or two ahead, and he relished the thought of a comfortable bed and a heady mug of ale – not to mention seeing Chi’Gandir again if such was the will of fate. So he plodded onward, or plodded for him. No one that saw his sinewy form glide along the road would have called his graceful movements plodding. He occupied his time with trimming his nails upon Maladath’s sharp edge, or braiding his hair with bits of bone and leather, as was his wont. It was not long ere he saw the lights of the town ahead of his sight. He smiled. Soon he came to the gates, and though the guards had strict orders to allow no one into the town after hours, Núrutyáve’s face and temperment were known among the gate-guards, and trembling the fellow permitted the Drow to pass.

He entered The Prancing Pony and his ears were assailed with laughter and shouts and drunken song. He grinned. Not much had changed here, and he hoped it never would. Núrutyáve did not care overly for change. He sat himself down at the table in the corner where many years past he and Chi had first patronized this establishment, as a sign of good luck, he now thought. He called for ale. The boy brought the mug swiftly, the Drow’s patience being known for its shortness. As Núrutyáve swilled down the ale he took delight in its refreshing coolness, and then he noticed the signs. Whenever he and Chi had stayed long in this place, his comrade had demanded that each piece of furniture in the common room be kept to exact distances, such as he required, being blind and all, and evey time they had returned to the inn the staff had changed things to Chi’s liking again. But everything was just as his friend liked it, now. His heart rose. He asked a passing serving-wench - with of course a glance up and down her slender form, how could he not? - what odd dishes the cooks had made that evening. She sniffed irritably, tightened her blouse, and told him that the oddest thing she had seen was a veal and lamb cutlet platter that was completely raw. He grinned as she walked away. And he set down his mug, after draining it, of course. As he passed to go toward the stairs, the girl held out her hand from behind the counter for the payment, and he deftly tossed a coin into the vast reaches of her bosom. She gasped, and he made as if to fetch it for her, but she shook her head and stepped back, actually smiling slightly. He laughed, and let it go for now. He would fetch even more from her later.

He came up the room where Chi had been wont to stay, a room in a corner providing two directions for quick escape, and put his nose to the crack beneath the door. He was certain, then. The sweet smell of human blood wafted into his nostrils. Chi’Gandir was in that room. He thought for a minute. Then he pounded incredibly hard upon the door. And kicked it. He disguised his voice so that even the sharp-eared Chi would not know him, and yelled. “What poltroonish devilry goeth on behind this simple piece of wood? If I be not answered forthwith, I shall kick it down and feed thy vitals to the hogs! Declare thyself, yellow-backed son of a whore!”

[Chi'Gandir]

Chi'Gandir had been standing next to the window, letting the slight breeze that floated in the air tonight wash over him, when the voice came. The voice itself had not surprised him, he had heard someone walking in his direction. He picked up a black sheet and tossed it over the man in the corner, whom had fallen unconscious from blood loss. He made his breathing pattern a little louder than usually just to give himself the ability to 'see' and cover up the rest of the man and chair, which proceeded to blend in with the shadows.

"I think, the more appropriate question is, Who are you?" Chi'Gandir called out to the door, taking up a position in the corner of the room, on the side which the door would open towards. "and what is your authority to come to my room, which I humbly paid for in full, and demand that I reveal myself to you? What goes on behind this door is my business, and the business of Barliman Butterbur as he is the proprietor of this establishment, and us alone." He hissed, silently drawing his two swords, holding them firm. "Enter, you worthless maggot, and you shall get all your questions answered."

And thus the door opened towards him, shielding him from view as the holder of the voice walked in.

[Envin]

Núrutyáve grinned silently as he began to open the door, and with his keen senses he had a general idea of the location of Chi'Gandir within the room. So as the door swung open, the Drow, rather than walk in, threw himself into a crouch and rolled into the room, leapt up and sprang off the wall, spinning about, and tackled Chi before the other knew what had happened. He jumped up and threw his head back and laughed. He offered Chi a hand up. "Up to your old tricks, I see," Núrutyáve said, gesturing with his other hand at the sheet. "Old habits die hard, as they say. It warms this cold heart to see you again, friend! How have the years treated you? They've not made you any prettier - they despaired of that long ago."

[Chi'Gandir]

Chi'Gandir let out a faint laugh as Núrutyáve stood, taking his hand to lift himself up as well. "I couldn't resist," He motioned to the sheet, "Him and his family were just begging to be tortured." His lips formed a slight smirk as he continued, "Yes, it is very well to be in the company of such a great Drow once more. It has been too long since last we met. If I didn't know of your prowess, I would have thought you dead long ago. The years have passed, and I have done much wandering abroad. I spent quite a few years reacquainting myself with the forests of Mirkwood, for it has been such a long time since I was amongst that darkness. Aye, not since Sauron had just taken possession of Dol Guldur had I stepped into Mirkwood...From there I sent many bats to the skies, to find you. Yet you were always one step ahead. When they found you and returned to me, by the time I arrived you were gone already. Yet always I returned to the Pony, and waited for weeks at a time for your return. For I knew it would happen someday." He made his way to take a seat, motioning for Núrutyáve to do the same, "and you? How has time come to lay its story for Núrutyáve?"

[Envin]

Núrutyáve tapped his right index finger upon his nose. "Of late, naught too untoward has passed. I just recently departed Imladris, where I had taken my pleasure with a young Elven maiden and set the garrison upon me. I eluded them, of course - so much the worse for them. And before that, just a fortnight past, I wandered into the realms of Bragolamarth. Aye, heard of that one, have you? He is an imposing figure. But in these years since last we met? I have wandered farther afield that ever I did before. I have been in Harad and in Enedwaith, in Belfalas and Rhun. Horrible stories and rumors sprang up behind me, most of them true, of course, and, after I departed, night-terrors would haunt children for many long days. I rather enjoyed Harad - I had been there once before, as you know, but only to the north of the lands. This journey led me into the deepest reaches of the jungle, far into the heart of darkness, and yet I left it frightened of my name and my blades. It was then I returned to the north, and it was then my more recent adventures began. But I discovered a secret of power buried deep within that jungle, one of which that I would wager that not even the Valar are aware. It could give much mastery to whoever possessed it. Perhaps we could turn its power to our own use, to cow even this Bragolamarth - that would be a story for the ages, a reminisence of our old grand days, and a true test of our skills, to pit them so against this Black Istari."

[Chi'Gandir]

Chi'Gandir's lips curled into a hollow smile, "Power which the Valar themselves are unaware of, you say? Aye, that could be interesting enough indeed...Yet, remember the last time we set out against a great power? The Silmarils?" He leaned back into the chair on which he sat, sighing. "But, overpowering Bragolamarth...ah, that is a goal which they say none can achieve. A true challenge, that would be. From what I have heard, it would be even more of a challenge than the time we were stuck in the mountains of Thangorodrim, with Gothmog in pursuit."

[Envin]

Núrutyáve tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "And no think that the fellow had wings but was frightened of bats!" He chuckled for several minutes, finally calming. "Your furry comrades came in quite handy that evening, as I recall." He stretched, settling upon the floor comfortably with his back leant against the wall. "Perhaps this could prove too much for us, I do not know. But I say that we shall never know until we make the attempt. Our names would be remembered ages upon ages from now. Shall I tell you of the source of this power? Aye, I though 'twould interest you. It lies some hundred leagues south and slightly east of Mordor, in a ravine buried deep within the jungles of Harad, steaming with the heat and the humidity. There are no people for many, many miles about it, and only by chance in search of a source of water did I find it. Of course, water runs downhill, so in my search, for truth be told I was parched, I stumbled upon a sudden, sharp drop, and even though I did not fall unwittingly into it, I leapt down it, curious. There before me was a large crater in the ground, oblong, elliptical. At the end of it, ground into the earth, was a shard of what seemed to me to be glass. It was not over large, perhaps an ell long and half that across, but it pulsed with some kind of latent strength. I crept closer, and as I stood over it I saw engraved upon a corner of it, as it were upon a border around a larger shard that had been broken, what I had found. It is a shard of Ormal, Chi'Gandir! It must have lain there undisturbed for years upon years of years. Surely it would be gone if its existence was known. It would seem that in the unmaking of the Lamps several smaller shards of them were flung far and wide. It sung to me, friend, and it called to me! Certainly he who could call himself its owner would be given power beyong belief! And there are no Iron Mountains to discourage this time, Chi. With it, would we not rival the might of Bragolamarth himself?"

[Chi'Gandir]

"A shard of Ormal?" Chi'Gandir's face took on a much more interested form as he heard this, leaning forward towards the Drow. "Truly, a shard of Ormal rests in Haradwaith? So many years, and it has gone undiscovered...Almost as if it were hiding itself for the opportune moment to be revealed. Aye, with this in our possession we shall become true powers. Stronger than Sauron. Stronger than Morgoth....And, dare I say, stronger than Bragolamarth?" His sinister grin spread widely to reveal sharp teeth, slightly stained with blood.

[Envin]

Nurutyave grinned in return, pleased that his good comrade had embraced his plan. "'Twould be a simple enough affair. Let us simply journey south and recover it. That, unfortunately, shall require many days, but once it belongs to us, all will change in this Middle-earth. Let us journey northward to Angmar and show Bragolamarth the true meaning of cruelty. If you are of a like mind to me, when shall we depart?"


{OOC: Check your PM/emale before replying.}

[Chi'Gandir]

"To put best speed unto our business, we depart now, unless the tireless Drow has suddenly become...not so tireless?" Chi'Gandir rose, walking around to gather his sheaths and other items of importance. At last he quietly walked over to the sheet, tossing it to the side and looking at the poor excuse for a Man that lay crumpled in the chair. "Pity. I wished to have more fun with you," He frowned, placing his hands upon the side of the man's head and promptly snapping his neck. The body fell limp, and Chi'Gandir picked it up, walking over the wooden floorboards to the corner, where he lifted up about a dozen. Underneath was a slightly deep hole, filled with a few bodies. The essence of death leaked into the room as he dropped the body down into the makeshift grave and then replaced the boards. He grinned to Nurutyave slightly, "I've been here a long time. No one else uses the room anymore, I've hallowed out the ground." Chi'Gandir hopped up, walking to the Drow, pocketing the key to his room as he went.

[Envin]

Nurutyave grinned and stood, though if Chi had had more of a focus on torturing females he would have asked his comrade to wait in the hall for a few minutes. But, as it was, there was little else to do but to depart. He sniffed as he walked toward the door and realized that the bodies below were far past the pleasant stage after death. Just as well, he supposed - plenty of time for that on the journey south. He clapped Chi on the shoulder as he walked past him. "I shall only ever tire of days in the wild alone, without you to provide me with fresh corpses of little girls. Let us pass through a few towns as we sojourn - the folk of Middle-earth have not had a decent fright in a good while. After you, old friend."

The Bat and The Drow left the room, and slammed the door. Chi pocketed the key, mumbling something about leaving his property, and passing through the common room gave those who could not keep from staring a foul glance, while Nurutyave gave the serving wench one of a different sort. They threw open the door and were lost to the night.



{Continued in Rohan in The Quest For the Shard Part 1}