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Minas Tirith Forums » The Green Dragon » Infected (Page 1)
Author Topic: Infected
Jango
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 891

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The ranger rushed over the plain as fast as he could, the thought of reaching Osgiliath drove him even faster. He had to find this Elf. Reports already made it that the plague was making its way into Middle-Earth. Small villages on the Eastern and Northern borders were already being hit. The reports were gruesome and for the first time whispers of rumour circulated that the heretic elf may have been telling the truth. It all just didn't seem real. A plague that took over the body? Impossible... isn't it? He finally breached the crest of the hill and below him lay the glory of Gondor. This was his first visit into the south, and the scenery took his breath. The majesty of Mount Mindolluim towering over the already massive Minas Tirith. And on the other side the beautiful Anduin. Never before had he seen a river so long and wide as this one he had been following. And in between them like a gem in the sand lay Osgiliath, all his hope lay there. It wasn't long until he made it there. The city seemed to be in confusion. The people didn't know what to make of the news. Some where heading for Minas Tirith for protection and others obstinately ignored the news and went on with daily life. Despite the varying opinions, they all seemed to be drawn to one place, an amphitheater where the "heretic" Elf was now giving his public warnings once again. And for the first time, with some effect upon the people. He was yelling out warnings and assurances alike, it seemed like the people had only heard of one incident. The ranger had pushed his way through the crowd and when he reached the center he crawled on stage and whispered something into the Elf's ear. A grave looks came over the immortal's face and turned the audience and said that news of two more villages in the north have had reports. He continued to whisper, "I need to talk with you after you are done here. I'll be near the stage." He stepped off and found an empty seat.

[ 12-04-2004, 03:38 PM: Message edited by: Jango Fett ]

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CloudStrife
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3483

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"People of Gondor, hear me! You must prepare for the coming plague! Faster each day it rushes towards you to your very doorstep, and it shall enter in! None are safe from its clutches, unless we prepare for it! All hope is not yet lost for we may together find a way to stop it, but before we can you must acknowledge it's existence and its threat! Already it has taken those closest to me and IT shall do the same or more to you, if we don't prepare!" Nárcollo pause for a breath. His mind raced. Was he getting through to them? Would they heed his warnings, or were they just humoring him. He who had been labeled a heretic and a fool. But in the last few days, the people's mood had begun to change. Others had come claiming that they were the sole survivors of a village that had been attacked by hideous monsters that looked almost elf like. He seemed to hold their attention and he finaly felt like he was getting through to them! He comtiued his speech, as a man dressed as a ranger began to push his way towards the front of the crowd. Nárcollo continued even when the man reached the edge of the stage and proceeded to climb up next to him. he paused as the Ranger leaned over to whisper into his ear. "I have confirmed that two more villages have been infected in the north. I need to talk to you after you are done here." Nárcollo turned pale. "People, I have just been informed that two more villages have been infected to the north. We can only pray for Eru to have mercy on their souls. This is why we must prepare! Create shelters, make sharp barriers, gather food and prepare wood to burn. I will speak to you no more, for time is of the essence. Go!" Nárcollo stepped down from the stage. The ranger was standing their waiting for him. "What is it you wanted to see me about? We must hurry if this is true about the two villages to the north, For that will only be the beginning of the terror..."

[ 12-04-2004, 11:04 AM: Message edited by: CloudStrife ]

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Fraeyl the Ranger
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4807
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Clang! Clang! Clang! rang the smithing hammer against the anvil. She had spent three days on this spear, she put great detail in her work, never missing anything. Angras, a slender woman who had golden white hair that was matted to her head in sweat, and finely toned muscles created by years of smithing. She looked up briefly from her work to notice people of Osgiliath running toward the city's square yelling about an elf bringing grim news.

She thought nothing of it, her adopted father told her "Never let anything distract you from your work. Even the slightest slip will bring your piece crashing into scrap. A good smith always brings their work before anything else! Don't let your gaurd down!"

She smiled, remembering her gruffy dwarf friend that had adopted her when she was but only a babe. She looked at her finely crafted spear-head. She thought it would suffice in today's work. She took off her leather aprin and cleaned up before running out in the streets to see what the commotion was about.

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Ingaran Nolofinwë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4240
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As Alkarelen heard the Avari from the east speak of the plague rushing towards Eriador he thought of all that had been accomplished by the free-peoples since the fall of Mordor. He realized that if this dark-elf spoke the truth then it could spell doom for all of those who dwelt in the western lands.

As he left the ampitheatre to make his wasy back to his quarters in the heart of the city he thought of the few remaining Eldar in Middle Earth, and what they would be able to do against such a threat.

[ 12-07-2004, 11:52 PM: Message edited by: Ingaran Nolofinwë ]

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Jango
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 891

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The Ranger stood up, "Let us go around back to aplace more private." They went there and the man spent no time in waste. "Those of your kind call me Ambu, but I am more widley known as Forondor. I am one of the few remaining Rangers of the North, trained by the last Wood Elves of Mirkwood. I am in a search to find a cure for this disease, I know it sounds laughable but there must be hope. Can you offer any valuable information that may be of help? And also I need to know how fast can they travel?"
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Aermîr Goldenflower
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3845

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Telepvilya wandered around Osgiliath, features of wonder plain on her face. She had heard of this plague that was coming, and was trying to decide on whether she believed the story or not. At the moment, she was leaning towards thinking it was the truth. After all, who would lie about something so serious?

It was not long before she found herself at the main area of attraction. The Elf who had come with the news was now no longer speaking to the people, as she had seen him doing earlier, but was talking with a stranger. Her interest was perked, but Telepvilya held herself back. Her father had always told her it was not polite to eavesdrop.

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Fraeyl the Ranger
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4807
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After the elf had stopped talking, Angras walked around Osgiliath. She put aside the news for just a second and started to admire the city's beauty. It would suprise anyone that not long ago, this city was in ruins, both halfs used as war outposts. Some times, when she listened to the wind, she could still hear the cries of the captains rallying troups for a daily assault.

She decided to use her break from work to catch up on a little reading. Asrang could not remember the last time she was in the Great Library. She noticed the elf was talking with some people off to the side. She took no care in it however. She thought herself safe in the city.

She looked over her shoulder to see the peak of Minas Tirth, and all of it's splendor. She smiled in comfort in knowing that she also had her Realm's capitol watching over her as well.

[ 12-08-2004, 05:31 PM: Message edited by: Cattie-brie ]

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Elessar
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 871

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Denomir trudged through the city streets. He was inconsolable. He had traveled for weeks looking for that blasted elf. And when he finally finds where he is speaking, he gets there late. He kicked a rock and it sailed into a blacksmith's shop window. He glumly walked towards the shop to apologize for the damage and offer to pay for it. The door being locked he waited around outside till the owner came back.
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Arorë Silvertongue
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3570

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Turulambië had listened to the elf warning people about the plauge for a while but she didn't need to listen for long. She was convinced. She agreed with him that a cure needed to be found. She would do all she could to help, but she would need to know more about the plauge before she could even begin to speculate. She wandered around an Osgiliath market looking at different plant products for sale but not buying anything - she had better in her home in Minas Tirith.

After a while she returned to where the elf had been speaking. Someone was making his way towards him though the crowd. He looks like a Ranger, Turulambië thought to herself. He must have trained with my people. Her people were the Elves of Mirkwood, now known as the Greenwood. It had been a long time since she had last visited there - nearly fifty years now.

Suddenly the elf stopped talking and jumped down from where he had been standing to talk with the Ranger. Now might be a good time to talk to him about the plauge. I hope he doesn't mind, Turulambië thought and began pushing forward towards them.

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Aermîr Goldenflower
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3845

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As she waited for an opportunity to speak with the ranger and elf, she another of the firstborns, a female, walking in their direction. Telepvilya stopped breathing at the sight of her.

It... it can't be, she thought, shocked. But the Elf looked so familiar, just like...

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Fraeyl the Ranger
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4807
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After she caught up in her readings, she noticed it was getting dark. She thought it best to head straight home. She rounded a corner and noticed a man standing next to her shop's door. She looked to the window and was surpirsed to see it in it's present state. She waked over to the man and asked "Excuse me, do you know what happend to my window?"
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CloudStrife
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3483

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Nárcollo was taken aback. Finally a believer that wanted to actively help him! "They run a little faster than an Elf, but are easily sidetracked by other things, such as animals or other people. We found in our fight against them that they are vulnerable to fire and sharp objects, but arrows don't do very much good. That is unless they are flaming arrows. They will attack anything and everything. I'm not sure yet if any Race exists that is not suseptible, but I know for a fact that Elves, Men, and most animals are. The Plague can be contracted by blood or saliva. That is the extent of my knowledge of them." Forondor stood there a moment in silence. "My name is Nárcollo, I would like to thank you for believing me. Little did I trust the secondborn, but you are an exception. We must get to the Capitol and warn the people there. If They will listen, the whole Kingdom , and surrounding allies will follow suit. That is my only hope for these people. What do you suggest we do?"
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Jango
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 891

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"Unfortunately, in spite of the facts, these people have paid little heed to your warnings. Some have fled, but I doubt the King will listen to anyone. Such nobles are too prideful in that way. Whether or not they listen it is worth a try, and if not then maybe we can convince the apothecaries to work with us on a hypothesis on what a solution may be. Minas Tirith is surrounded by many a high wall. It should be protected. Do not underestimate us men, it was in our hands that Middle-Earth survived the second age." Just then the ultimate cry of horror rang through the city. Such a cry was unmistakable. One that is let out when they loose a loved one to a horrible doom. The cry of ultimate pain and suffering. Forondor stood, hand on hilt, completely alert. Silence took over momentarily. The scream came from across the river. "...It couldn't be...could it?" He looked at Narcollo inquisitively, fear in his voice. "It can't," he tried to reassure himself, "they would have to cross the dead marshes and find their way through Ithilen to make it here. Its impossible... unless... they couldn't have made it through Mordor could they? There is nothing left there but ash and..." then he realised the severity of it all, "...orcs!" He bolted up the staircases to exit the amphitheater. Stopped at the top, "Are you coming? I need a guide through the city, tell me how to reach the bridge to the eastern half of the city! If this is it then we need to get everyone out, fast!"
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Elessar
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 871

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"Ah, are you the owner of this store? Ahh, of course you are, why would ask if you weren't," sighed Denomir, "I kicked a rock and it flew through your window. I must beg your forgivness, and as a tiding of good will, I will pay you for the dama..." Just then the scream rang out. Denomir pulled his hatchet nervously from his belt, "What in the name of Aule was that?"
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Ingaran Nolofinwë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4240
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As he entered his quarters Alkarelen heard a blood curdling scream come from the eastern shore of the city, soon he heard alarm bells clanging. In alarm, the elf grabbed his sword before he left his quarters to investigate.
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Sepiroth Strife
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 2646

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Resta ran ahead of his charge. He sniffed and looked around. The smell of orc was unmistakeable. He grunted and looked out for the trail of broken grass that was characteristic for his kind. There . He called his companion over. "Ten of my kind ran this way. Are you sure you want to do this?"

His average build human employer scowled, "Of course, they ran through my town and slaughtered my wife. They will pay."

"Humans," Resta muttered under his breath. Resta couldn't understand it. His kind were supposed to be evil and vile yet he routinely saw humans doing things far worse than many orcs could stomach. "Okay, get going. I'll let you know when your 'vengence' in near." The human didn't appear to notice the sarcasm dripping off Resta's words.

He ran on and found the orcs. "Ride through them, and then circle. Make sure to kill the one wearing the most armor. He'll be their leader." Resta ran in and watched the human slay the targeted orc and begin to circle the enemy. "My turn." Resta jumped on a sentry that had turned to watch the horse gallop past. His sword staff silenced the sentry. Resta continued in his charges path. The other orcs didn't look twice at him as they threw spears and tried to hack at the horse. Three died before an orc noticed. He howled and leapt into Resta with a curved axe. Resta spun whipping the spiked ball on the underside of his sword staff into the orcs face as he fell. The human pulled a bow and started shooting at orcs picking them off occasionally. Resta crouched and lunged into an archer drawing a bead on the rider, his sword leading. 6 for me, four more and I get paid. Resta pulled a spear up from a dead orc and heaved it into another preparing to fire on the human. The human took out two rocs before a spear toppled his horse. Though rattled about he stood and pulled out his long sword and began trying to defend himself. Resta picked up the axe of his recently dead opponent in his left hand and chanrged to his hirer. It was then he noticed a strangeness to the way they fought and the way they looked. They looked savage even for orcs. He dismissed his thoughts he swept his weapons out in an arc opposite each other clearing a space and killing an unfortunate orc that jumped into the move. Resta started shouting orcish taunts and singing battle hymns told to him by his father. The remaiing prcs fell between the humans sword play and Resta's seemingly wild swinging. Resta looked and saw the human had cuts all over him and was covered in orc blood.

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Aermîr Goldenflower
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3845

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Telepvilya was shaken from her shock when the scream reached her ears. The ranger nearby was frantic and asking the Elf the quickest way to reach the eastern bridge.

"It's this way!" she shouted to him, and set off running as fast as her feet would carry her.

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Fraeyl the Ranger
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4807
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Angras could not think for a moment. One minute, she was talking to a person who had smashed her window, the next, the city was in panic. People were running from the east, a few brave souls were running toward the caos. She looked at stranger again and ran inside her shop. She took up her golden hilted sword and ran back out toward the stranger, but not before grabbing a small sword.
"You will not fare well with that little hatchet" she said as she handed him the sword. She then began her run toward Minas Tirth.

[ 12-08-2004, 05:30 PM: Message edited by: Cattie-brie ]

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Ingaran Nolofinwë
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 4240
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As he ran east over the bridge to investigate the disturbance, Alkarelen, was met by a flood of people rushing westward in an attempt to flee from something...
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Arorë Silvertongue
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3570

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Turulambië forgot her previous motive in the instant she heard the cry of alarm. I hope that's not the plauge he was talking about. She followed them as they joined up with another elf and ran. Maybe I can help him. I hope so. She though as she ran to catch up with them.
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Sepiroth Strife
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 2646

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Resta took a step back as the human started to come at him. "Hey, I'm your guide. Stop this." Resta jumped back as the human thrust his sword ahead. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? I AM NOT THE ENEMY!" The human's eyes lit and fires seemed to burn there. The human bellowed and ran at Resta. The orc had no choice but to stop him. He shoved his sword through the human's soft middle and out the other side. In the humans fall the sword staff was taken from his grasp. He turned and gasped as the human continued to stand and even wheeled quickly with the sword sticking out of him. Another bellow and the human flew at him again. Grasping the stolen axe in both meaty paws, Resta charged as well aiming for the humans chest. Thunk. The human fell with axe and sword staff still within him. "Now what the hell was that about?" Rests said as he pulled out the bladed staff and then, thinking it best to have a heavier weapon in case another crazed human attacked, he pried the axe out of the man. Resta put away his weapons and began to walk to Minas Tirith. Several yards from the man he turned back and ran his hands throught his employers pockets. No sense in leaving a dead man his coins...and no sense in not getting paid in full just because the hirer died. Partway back he began encountering signs of more orc bands going the same direction as he.
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Jango
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 891

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Forondor could not wait for his elf friend and began following another elf who shouted the way. He ran through the gates, stopped once more to see if Narcollo was coming then continued. The other elf was fast and in weaving between building he nearly lost her. If it was a her, he hardly had time to look. When he came out to the main street he was met by a mob of people and he lost all sight of the elf. Some people were fleeing in horror, others were wandering towards the origin in curiosity. The din was so loud that shouting to them was useless. The street led only in one direction: to the bridge. He pushed and shoved his was through, desperate to think of something he could do. All of these people, how could they get out in time? Time. Time. They needed more of it. Then he thought of it: a blockade. But of what? He looked around, only seeing people and white rock buildings. He could see the bridge now, there were so many people on it that it was overflowing. This city had become over-populated, he thought. In the chaos citizens would push each other off the side and into the water. There boats in the water, some were grossly overweight, some tried to make it across and other were heading for the South Gate. It was insanity. Where was that elf? It was too late for that now. How could he block their path? It wasn't possible, he accepted it. If he could somehow then they'd surely swim across... if they could swim. He pressed his way forward through the mob, slowly but surely, he was halfway across the bridge now...

[ 12-10-2004, 11:55 PM: Message edited by: Jango Fett ]

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CloudStrife
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3483

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Nárcollo was taken by surprise. The Infected? Here? Already? How was it possible? Forondor shouted at him to show him how to get the people out. His mind raced, He wasn't familiar with the city and wasn't sure where to go. An elf ran out of the crowd, and shouted to Forondor to follow. Forondor and the elf raced off against the crowd, and Nárcollo followed after them. Screams and shouts rang out through the city. This was a disaster. If the infected got into the city then all would be lost here. If only they had listened to him before this could have been averted. But He couldn't dwell on the past any longer. He had to focus on getting as many people out as possible before the plague wiped them all out. He followed after the two fighting the crowds the whole way. Forondor appeared to have lost sight of the other elf, and Nárcollo shouted out to him. "AMBU!!! AMBU!!! WE MUST GET THE PEOPLE OUT!!!" but it appeared useless to try and shout over the screams. He ran towards the bridge and started pushing through. as quickly as possible he made his way through the crowd, and reached out and grabbed the Ranger. "Forondor, they have to get out now! We have to do something!"
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Aermîr Goldenflower
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3845

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Telepvilya had made it to the bridge before the ranger had and she knew he had lost sight of her. She saw the Elf he had been talking with following him. The Elf grabbed the ranger and rushed over towards them. She could tell by the situation that they were going to need help.

"Forondor, they have to get out now! We have to do something!" the Elf told the ranger.

"And what would this something be?" Telepvilya asked, smiling slightly as she hurriedly approached them.

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Arorë Silvertongue
Guard of the Citadel
Citizen # 3570

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Turulambië hurried after the elf and ranger. She had to push and shove her way through the crowds of people streaming towards the bridge. I hope I don't lose them, she thought. But her elven eyesight aided her there and she kept track of them. They paused on the bridge to speak with another elf, allowing Turulambië to catch up with them.

"[...]We have to do something!" the first Elf told the ranger.

"And what would this something be?" the female elf who had just joined them asked.

"Well, what you do depends entirely upon what you can do. It's very hard to control a mob." She commented wryly as she approached them.

[ 12-11-2004, 03:21 PM: Message edited by: Arorë Silvertongue ]

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