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Autor Thema: The White Council  (Gelesen 8196 mal)

Walküre

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The White Council
« am: 27. Aug 2016, 01:41 »
The first meeting of the White Council is recorded in T.A. 2463. Galadriel established the White Council in the first place and wanted to appoint Gandalf as the chief of the council; a position that was later granted to Saruman.

Elrond has summoned Galadriel, Gandalf and Saruman in Rivendell; Erestor and Glorfindel are present at the Lord of Imladris' court (with the main role as Elrond's advisers). Everything starts with the characters arriving at the gates of Imladris and greeting each other. It's night, and the entrance to that sacred shelter is illuminated by torches and Elven lamps. The sentinels were always on guard, even if, at that time, evil seemed so unlikely to ever return in Middle-earth.

Elrond: VectorMaximus
Galadriel: DieWalküre
Gandalf: Fine
Saruman: The_Necromancer0
Erestor: kolibri8
Glorfindel
Círdan




Fine: added Erestor (kolibri8) and Círdan
« Letzte Änderung: 13. Sep 2016, 01:28 von DieWalküre »

Fine

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #1 am: 27. Aug 2016, 01:48 »
As he drew near the gate of Imladris, Gandalf reined his horse.  He felt a sense of belonging, even though the Grey Pilgrim did not call any place in Middle-earth his home. The Hidden Valley had always made him feel welcome, no matter if he brought ill or happy news.
The Wizard leapt off his steed and sent it on its way towards the stables, trusting the animal to find the way on its own since it was an elf-mount from Rivendell itself, borrowed from Elrond a few months ago. His staff by his side he entered the central courtyard through the main gate, exchanging welcoming glances with many Elves he recognized from earlier visits. In the distance, he could see other council members awaiting him. Gandalf sped up his pace and made his way towards them.

VectorMaximus

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #2 am: 27. Aug 2016, 03:25 »
"Elrond!" A voice drifted into the study of Elrond as he continued with his writings. He looked up at the sound, not expecting anyone to be coming to meet him at this point, though he would have to get ready for the council later. As the door opened a crack, he spotted before he entered Glorfindel, who was quick to pull up a chair and sit down.

He raised a single eyebrow at his captain. "Yes Glorfindel, what is it?" he commanded, even as his attention returned to his work. A recent trade agreement with several local mannish towns that were unofficially under the protection of Imladris had unfortunately fallen through, with the men demanding elvish weaponry and techniques instead of the medicine that they usually traded excess food and basic materials for. While Imladris was self-sufficient, the philosophy of the Imladhrim was that since they were already protecting the men, they might as well attempt to build up their stores of supplies while they were at it, and the men also were very keen to have elven medicines readily available. However, the new mannish leader's arrogant and headstrong attitude had been very off-putting to Erestor, who had for the longest time been the elves main trade negotiator. However, Erestor had sworn off working with this man, and so the duty had fallen to him.

"Elrond, Mithrandir has arrived." Glorfindel continued casually. This caused him to raise his head back up.

"I was under the impression that he would be several more hours from the reports of the outer sentinels." He said, even as he began to pick up the papers and stack them neatly, realizing in silent despair that he would have to come back and finish them later. With the other council members already arrived, and himself being the host, he could not postpone the meeting to finish up with the trade counter offer.

"Indeed, the last sightings did indicate that, but he made great speed for the last leg of his journey. Last I saw before I came to retrieve you was him sending the horse to the stables and heading to meet up with the rest of the council." Glorfindel had busied himself with putting away Elrond's writing utensils.

"So be it." Elrond began, "It would appear as though the meeting can now begin. Are all the preparations ready? Food, drink?" Finally with all his supplies put away, he set his circlet straight (as it was croocked slightly from many hours of sitting behind his desk in various positions) and straigtened his robes one more time before turning to leave the room, setting off at a sedate pace.

"All is made ready, My Lord" Glorfindel said, moving to fall into step behind Elrond's shoulder. A small smirk crossed his face. Elrond slowed and made to turn around, his mind assimilating his captain's word. However, Glorfindel after many years knew well the mind of the Elf-Lord, and interjected with a good humored tone before he could begin. "Do not worry, this time I made sure that the Númenórean wine was untouched. Your stockpile will not be disturbed" Elrond merely glanced over his shoulder and gave him a look, before sighing the sigh of a elf that had suffered this humor many times before, even as he began opening the door at the end of the hall.

"Well then, come Glorfindel!" He said over his shoulder as he made his way out of the main house and into the fresh air of the late evening. "Let us not keep them waiting overly long"
« Letzte Änderung: 18. Sep 2016, 21:44 von VectorMaximus »
"But wherefore should Middle-earth remain for ever desolate and dark, whereas the Elves could make it as fair as Eressëa, nay even as Valinor?

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #3 am: 27. Aug 2016, 04:18 »
Galadriel eventually got through the gates upon her white horse, as she was escorted by valiant guards from Caras Galadhon. With great admiration of the ones that had never seen her with their own eyes, the Noldorin Princess surpassed every of their expectations in beauty and majesty. As she was getting closer, her legendary appearance began to be more and more visible to all: clothed wholly in white, her complexion was endowed with an eternal brightness and her hair with a pervasive radiance. The wisest knew that they were beholding a lost remnant of the mythical past that was; older than them, older than most of the ancient tales and even older than the very Moon that enlightened that night.

Gone past the entrance, she then turned towards her guards. ''You now may suspend your watchful vigilance, for no peril is to be found within this sacred valley. Rest from all the daunting tasks you were appointed and from the long journey faced.''

Her voice was crystalline as diamonds yet of noble authority. With a warming smile, she got off her mount. She could now clearly perceive the benevolent will of the mighty ones that were summoned by Elrond.

It is said that Elves' memories will remain undimmed until the existence of Arda itself. Centuries of peace and delightful calmness among the timeless woods of Lórien had never made the reminiscences of the Lady less clear in her own inviolable mind. There, in fact, the Evil that was has always had its own reserved space and forever will do so. ''The Wise do have the bounden duty to watch over the fate of the gentle ones of Middle-earth, and if other past and present Elven Lords have elected the way of isolation, we definitely won't.'' This she had once told her husband in one of their frequent debates in regards of these prominent matters. Having been invited to such meeting will certainly serve her sincere purposes very well; it's also very long time since she last spoke to her beloved niece.

The_Necromancer0

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #4 am: 27. Aug 2016, 08:38 »
It was accompanied by his guards, that Saruman entered Imladris on the back of a grey steed. As he passed through many turned to look. While appearing calm in body, his mind was cursing that need for travel. While he and his guards were dismounting they witnessed the entrance of the Elf-Queen Galadriel, her beauty was so great that even the mind of the Skillful One did not remain unmoved by it. He watched her as she ordered her guards away, ever impressed by the grace that every single of her movement bore. He turned to his own guards and said:

"Go rest, I have no longer need of you at the moment." His orders were concise but there were no traces of any respect for his troops. They would serve him till death and then be forgotten. It is not even know if they serve him willingly or if their minds had simply been taken over.

Saruman had not come willingly to this meeting, had it been its decision there would have been no council to begin with. His primary concern was to be able to consult once more the mighty Library of Imladris, many questions were troubling his mind and he had decided that the meeting would have to wait. Walking slowly towards the library he continued to reflect on the state of his little "project" but put the thought aside quickly to avoid it being discovered, for the powers of certain Elves were too great in his opinion. Instead he passed the time of his trip by tinkering with a new device he had thought of on the way, one that would allow him to travel without the need to ride a horse. At the turn of a corridor he stumbled on Erestor going to the meeting place, and therefore in the other direction. Fearing that his intentions would be discovered, he preferred to abandon his goal for now in hopes that he might find what he needs later

"Greetings, Erestor." He said, feigning to be lost. "It must be by chance that I have met you, I have been wandering for quite a while now in this place but I seem unable to find the meeting place. Would you be so kind as to lead me there?" His words were sweet but no less powerful, it looked like his research would have to wait. Hopefully the meeting will be over quickly, and he could return to his task.

After walking up numerous stair and going through many buildings they finally arrived to a beautiful open place, that overlooked the forest and was fitted with chairs and a table on which lay many good things. Grabbing a glass of wine he made his way to the head of the table and, using his powers to keep his staff vertical, sat down and waited for the other members.
« Letzte Änderung: 1. Sep 2016, 07:43 von The_Necromancer0 »
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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #5 am: 27. Aug 2016, 09:05 »
Seeing the head of his order arrive, Gandalf made a gesture of respect towards Saruman, bowing his head. His attention was soon turned towards the arrival of Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien, and Elrond, their host, who was entering shortly afterwards.

"It is good to see all of you, my friends," he declared, with a smile. He was glad that Galadriel had called this meeting of the Wise, feeling certain that they could accomplish many great things if they worked together. Gandalf was eager to hear of their ideas on the matter.

Taking a seat across the table from Saruman, he recalled the main reason why this meeting was taking place. The Watchful Peace had ended with the return of a dark presence to Dol Guldur, the ancient stronghold at Amon Lanc in the Greenwood, and war was brewing in the south and east. Gandalf had travelled many leagues in the last three years, gathering news from the realms of Men, Elves and Dwarves alike, without ever staying in one place for too long. He had many questions and only few answers.

While he was glad that Saruman had indeed joined the meeting, he was sort of disappointed to find out that, apparently, no other member of the Order of the Istarí had been able to come. He had not heard from either of the Ithryn Luin for many years, while Radagast the Brown was last seen near the borders of the Greenwood, enthralled by the creatures of Yavanna that dwelt there. The mission given to him by the High Ones of Arda, the Aratar, was still in Gandalf's mind, even though he was no longer named Olorín in this Middle-earth but went by many names, Gandalf being one of the more common ones. Seeing Saruman the Wise take part in this council emboldened his resolve, but left him with a slightly sad thought that the two Wizards that were present were the only two ones who had not abandoned their cause yet.

Shaking off the distracting line of thoughts, he focussed on the High Elves that now filled the council's plateau. Indeed, only the wisest and fairest had come, but Gandalf was confident that this first meeting of the Council of the Wise would be a great success and a boon to the future of the world.

Since the Grey Pilgrim was neither the host nor the leader of the council, he patiently waited for someone to officially open the meeting while filling his glass with the wine offered by the Imladhrim.
« Letzte Änderung: 27. Aug 2016, 11:54 von Fine »

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #6 am: 27. Aug 2016, 15:51 »
''Your praises are always of the purest benevolence, gentle Erestor. May I ask you now if you could accompany me to the agreed place of the meeting. As you know, there are matters that request our decisive response. I imagine we will have plenty of free time to indulge in cordial greetings; isn't this visit supposed to involve a few days? I'm nonetheless intended to linger here a bit longer than the other guests' intentions. May I also say that you have my sincere gratitude for having arranged your Lord's invitation so well. The messengers of Imladris are now safely resting within the borders of my holy realm. Pleasant news from heralds are always welcome, even though I have my own preferred way to communicate with the Guardian of this blissful valley.''

With a little smirk on her face, she then proceeded to follow the wise librarian to the indicated location. Erestor knew what she had just referred to, and, hoping that the Lady of Light would perceive it, he allowed his mind to immerse itself into profound admiration for the last (in the mortal world, at least) of a once legendary royal kin.

On the way to the summit, Galadriel briefly reminisces the encounter she and her escort made with a group of Elven pilgrims (who were heading to the Grey Havens), before arriving in Rivendell.

''Do I worry? Yes, I always do, for a watchful peace is nonetheless one of great concern and doubts. Not even the wisest could tell clearly what the width of Middle-earth hides in all its shades; and they would certainly make flawed considerations if they did so. It's my resolution to firmly remain in these mortal shores, whose decaying nature strangely fascinates me, until the fate of our immortal kind will finally be unveiled. Don't hesitate, and continue to stick to your defined path with serenity: you shall soon leave the heavy burdens of these lands and eventually reach places in which nothing withers due to the inevitable flow of time. Don't mind me. More than seven long millennia have passed since my arrival and dreadful sorrows I had to withstand as well; I won't let uncertainty divert me from my purposes. Go now, and may your journey not be faltered by any approaching threatening cloud.''

All the pilgrims then bowed to her and some even knelt, naming her the Queen of all the Eldar dwelling in the grey continent. They had now renewed their faith in what would have awaited them and in whom would have had the duty to face the future to come in Middle-earth (the feeble yet brave Men, in particular). They then resumed their slow procession and disappeared in the vastness of a near forest.



Galadriel reaches the meeting and the other guests.

They were all awaiting in their seats the host to show up. As soon as she got closer, all the guests saluted her and exchanged relieved looks among each other, given that they were to know that the presence of Galadriel was always a guarantee of justness and sound principles. She didn't speak to anyone, but her eyes were on every of them with intense interest, as she was contemplating their minds. The Grey Pilgrim greeted her from the opposite side of the marble-made round table they were sat around. The Lady replied with one of her typical enigmatic gazes; enigmatic to all but the ones who they were directed to. Gandalf smiled of genuine happiness and stared her too, as if he were answering back in ways not manifest to the others. Saruman seemed quite unmoved by her arrival; she would never try to pierce the mental barriers of the Istar and perceive his indecipherable thoughts anyway. But she knew that deep respect was between them, and if the White Wizard were to be mesmerised by something, he wouldn't display his feelings openly.

Elrond would have soon appeared and officially started the meeting. Addressing all the White Council concerning matters of primary importance.



Participants of the White Council: Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Galadriel, Gandalf, Saruman, Círdan, noble Elven lords from Lindon and a herald of Thranduil.

Topic: The state of Middle-earth, threats of war in the South and recent shadows awakening in the vast woods of the East.
« Letzte Änderung: 13. Sep 2016, 00:15 von DieWalküre »

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The Council Begins: Friends from Afar, Allies of Old
« Antwort #7 am: 28. Aug 2016, 01:56 »


Elrond and Glrofindel swiftly made their way up the stair to the council rotunda, Imladris burning with the light of the setting sun. Elrond walked with a heavy heart. Over an age ago, another such council as this had granted him Lordship of Imladris along with Vilya, burdens both he still bore. And never was Vilya so heavy as on days such as this, when council was taken among the wise, for such council was only taken at utmost need. How dearly he desired to be back in his study, or with his wife and children in the Hall of Fire. Much as the sun was setting over his home, he feared that the council would confirm that peace was setting on Middle-Earth once more.

As they approached the top of the stairs, the sentinel at the top stood at attention.

"My Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel" the sentinel intoned as he gave a small salute to the Lord of Rivendell.

"Leave us Aluran" Elrond commanded "Take up watch at the bottom of the stairwell and we shall call upon you once you are required again." While Elrond trusted all the inhabitants of Rivendell, this council was need-to-know only. Aluran gave him a short nod before brushing past him and Glorfindel down the stairs.

As they entered, Glorfindel and him took up respective spots in the council rotunda; himself taking the seat closest to the entry while Glorfindel opted to stand near one of the columns on the outer edges, gazing out upon the valley.

Elrond took in the council assembled before him with a deep breath. To the left of him sat Cirdan, whom he gave a short nod to, which the aged elf returned in kind. To his right sat Mithrandir, who after greeting him upon his entrance was now nursing a glass of wine.

Across from him sat Saruman, who met his gaze levelly with a slight incline of his head. The white Istari was not one inclined to shows of emotion nor rash action, but there was respect between him and Elrond, born of their comradery as seekers of knowledge.

To Saruman's left sat a Sindar Elf, a herald of King Thranduil. This was perhaps the most worrying part of the council. While the Sindar in general had no great love of the Noldor, Thranduil had always come in person to speak and take council with him in the past. Sending a herald instead of coming himself lended heavy credence to the rumors of ill tidings in the Greenwood.

Feeling a sensation of greeting and warm affection washing over him, he turned to the person on Saruman's right side. Galadriel, his mother in law, gave him a small smile, which he returned, sending a wave of warmth and welcome over the mental link. Her smile grew a slight bit wider.

On Galadriel's right was Erestor, and the council was rounded out with 2 members of the council of Lindon. While Elrond himself was nominal head of the Noldor in Middle-Earth and the final authority (due to his status as Gil-Galad's vice-regent and de-facto heir to the High-Kingship), the council, headed by Cirdan, was charged with overseeing Lindon in day-to-day affairs. It was composed of several Elven Lords and very well respected elves from throughout Lindon.

Seeing the whole council gathered, he took a small breath as he rose from his seat.

"Friends from lands afar, allies of old, you have been called here to discuss the grim tiding that have reached us all. Rumors have spread of the Greenwood becoming overrun by foul creatures (here, the herald gave a slight flinch, almost unnoticeable by mannish standards), an incredibly grave situation if this is true." He paused slightly here, before continuing on, staring to pace as was his want when he entered deep contemplation. "Indeed, not alone are these ill tiding. Rumors of war have come out of the south and the east. Gondor has grown weaker since the loss of the line of Kings; their enemies to the east ready for war, while to the south they are ever bit at the heel by the Corsairs. The Kingdom of Rhovanion, a close ally of both Gondor and the Kingdom of Greenwood, teeters on the brink of collapse, brought about by years of savage raids by the Balchoth. And finally the Goblins of the Misty Mountains have become far more aggressive of late."

He stopped his pacing, placing a hand on the back of his seat as he began to sit back down. "We are gathered here to share what knowledge and tiding we have, and to formulate a way to respond to these threats that even now may be growing stronger. I fear that if these rumors all prove true, it may be too late already to save this watchful peace in which we have dwelled the last 400 years."

He gazed out upon the council once more; surely all these mighty wizards and great lords could find a solution to the problems facing them? Feeling marginally more assured he finished, "I now declare this council begun and leave the floor open for any who wish to begin. What tidings do you bring? What do you know of the situation afar that others may not? Together, we will piece the picture together, and find a solution."

Here begins the record of the Second Council of the Wise, as recorded and recalled by Erestor and Elrond Peredhil, with anecdotes from Galadriel and Olorin  - Grand Archive of New Imladris, Aman, 7th Age
« Letzte Änderung: 28. Aug 2016, 03:13 von VectorMaximus »
"But wherefore should Middle-earth remain for ever desolate and dark, whereas the Elves could make it as fair as Eressëa, nay even as Valinor?

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #8 am: 28. Aug 2016, 12:10 »
A moment of silence fell upon the council, this news was grim indeed. This did surprise Saruman, most of this was already known to him, although he had not realized that Greenwood was also under attack. His project would have to wait till another time.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. The news seems terrible indeed. I would like to bring some of my knowledge to the table to help this council better understand the situation. The East is unlikely the rise although they seem to show otherwise. Two wizards were sent into the East with mission to hold back this rebellion it is unlikely that they fail unless Sauron himself was to supervise the operation, you need not to worry. No attack will come from the desert. As for the globins I would worry not, they are always aggressive, it is just a matter of whether or not we notice it."

All the council was now turned towards Saruman, his words seeping through the mind of those less mighty, reassuring them. Saruman had not done this out of evil means, it was simply necessary that fear be kept out of their heads in order for a rational solution to be found. As he prepared to continue he observed each of the wise, one by one. Gandalf seemed uneasy, he was likely to say something that was going to contravene Saruman's initial analysis. Elrond seemed to listen carefully, his mind registering what was being said and linking it with what he knew. As for Galadriel, her mysterious glance could mean any number of things but Saruman knew that the White Lady of Lorien would surely bring many great things to this meeting. And so, he continued:

"Our main concern is indeed Rhovanion and Greenwood. Those two important kingdoms that cannot be allowed to fall. While the thought of these fell things crawling in the woods is frightening the main threat comes from the Wainriders, their heavy chariots have been known to be a mighty force against the Riders of Rhovanion who cannot trample them and lack an effective way to slaughter them."

With that he went silent again, he had said his mind on the matter and open a way to further the debate but he would not lead it. In his mind, many thoughts were bouncing around, possible solutions, new machines and his "project" although that was currently the least of his concerns. The machines and contraptions that were on his mind were meant to aid against the chariots but he would to return to his dwelling first to test them. For now, he must wait to see what the others have to say.



DieWalküre Small note: as this is the first meeting of the White Council in the Third Age, Saruman was not nominated yet as the head of the council; the leadership issue will be brought up later in the debate. I will edit two previous passages of this game that refer to Saruman as the chief.
« Letzte Änderung: 29. Aug 2016, 17:35 von The_Necromancer0 »
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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #9 am: 28. Aug 2016, 15:27 »
Rising from his chair, Gandalf picked up his staff and turned to face the council.

"Before this period of peace began, I entered Dol Guldur to learn more about the Necromancer that had taken residence there. I initially thought he might have been one of the Nine, the wraiths who had brought war to the realms of men in the years prior to my visit in the Greenwood. 'Indeed,' I said to myself, 'was it not the Captain of the Nine who had ruled the dark land of Angmar and orchestrated the doom of Arnor? And were it not the forces of the Ring-wraiths that seized Minas Ithil where Eärnur was lost?' But before I could identify the presence at Amon Lanc, it fled eastward, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell of a castle. In ages past, the people of Oropher had dwelt atop this mountain, but when I got there it had become a place of great evil. And now the darkness has returned there. Already the men and elves that live in the central and northern reaches of the Forest name it the 'Mirk-wood', and they fear what lurks beneath its trees. Radagast - Aiwendil, I mean - could surely tell us more, but he has not yet joined this council."

"It seems to me that the threat of war is greater than even Saruman the Wise senses - " he turned his eye towards the head of the Order - "for I have heard rumors of a new tribe that stirs near the Sea of Rhûn, named 'Balchôth' by the few remaining elves who inhabit nearby Dorwinion. They tell of a warlike horde of men threatening to push west and north. I share the concern about Rhovanion and Greenwood, if these rumors are found to be true. The wainriders posed a great challenge to Gondor, and with the loss of Anárion's lineage, the realm has been significantly weakened. Steward Denethor, the heir of Dior, is a wise man, but I do not know if he can deal with the threat from Minas Ithil and a possible invasion from the east at the same time."
Having spoken his mind, Gandalf sat down again, wondering what reactions this would cause.

The envoy from the Woodland Realm confirmed Gandalf's report about the growing darkness upon the Greenwood and added that Thranduil's people now dwelt only in the northernmost reaches of the forest, beyond the Mountains of the Greenwood.
« Letzte Änderung: 29. Aug 2016, 00:23 von Fine »

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #10 am: 28. Aug 2016, 23:55 »
The Lady of Light stood silent and in great attention. She listened carefully to every word spoken since the opening of that noble assembly. But she was not ready to intervene yet, not at that initial stage, for she rather focused on divining the sincere intentions of those authoritative guests. No way would the Lady have been tempted to intrusive actions or ill-intentioned curiosity, though her mental prowess was too mighty to ever be constrained totally; any imperceptible gesture, any quick thought or any expression of worry, even from the most imperturbable one, couldn't escape her sensational skills. Her gaze was in fact moving with grace from guest to guest. Not all the participants realised to be the interest of Galadriel; but some did perceive it.

Círdan answered back with a long stare, of equal essence of those that the host of the meeting and the Elf-queen were used to exchanging between each other. He then gave her a nod and smiled. Glorfindel bowed slightly and allowed her to reach the deep immensity of his Elven memories. It eventually was the turn of Gandalf, who had just finished to address the council about his personal views. It was indeed the right time to act: while the others immersed themselves in following the friendly greetings of the representatives of Lindon, she projected her powers towards the Grey Pilgrim and conveyed to him words that no one else could have heard.

''Your pure heart speaks the truth, loyal Mithrandir. The woods are ill. An insidious venom is poisoning those lands, that, alas, lie beyond my protection. I can clearly sense it: heinous Magic.''

Long nights of doubts and alert she had spent, while her mind patrolled every corner of her safe realm and even the right shore of the Anduin. Foul beasts had always wandered throughout those wild forests, but this time many of different shapes and evil kind had been gathering nearby what was then renamed the 'Hill of Sorcery'; shadows that only Nenya was capable of fending off. The very emanations of that eerie fortress in ruin had spread in its vicinities, causing anything alive to wither and die. The obscure territories of that region were now contrasting evidently with the beauty of the Golden Wood and the hidden dwellings within it. All these memories were in Gandalf's head now, as he himself had beheld them; nothing of her thoughts resembled even remotely some haunting nightmares though, but rather a clear narration of emotions, colours, sounds and events. Set aside the alarming content of the vision, the wizard was immensely delighted to have been granted the honour of such shared experience and so remained in profound contemplation: the extraordinary sight of the Lady of Lórien moved past lands and rivers swiftly, as wild winds blow loosely over the surface of the vast waters of Arda.

At her dismay, she was proven right as she discovered that the judgement of the Woodland King ended up being clouded by fear; something that his herald's thoughts didn't manage to conceal. The attention of the head of the Istari, on the other hand, was still focused elsewhere, as if he were stuck in retrieving lost relics of the past and their inner mysteries.
« Letzte Änderung: 29. Aug 2016, 00:13 von DieWalküre »

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #11 am: 1. Sep 2016, 00:19 »
Saruman was deep within his thoughts when he sensed the the mind of Galadriel probing his. His attention turned entirely to her, he was not pleased by this intrusion in his mind but more yet he feared what she could have decrypted the small stream of thoughts that escaped him. His fear was replaced by a mild annoyance, he had believed that his mental barriers should have served as a warning that he did not wish, nor would allow such analysis of his mind. Maybe it was time the Lady of Lorien tasted a bit of her own elvish medicine.

"You wish to know what is upon my mind? So be it, look and despair for I have seen many things."

With these words he opened the gate of his mind, although he still kept many things secret. In his mind some of the deepest fears that he had before always kept to himself, for they would have cast despair into the heart any that would have seen them. Galadriel witnessed, through the mind of Saruman which was apt in crafting of all sorts, the retaking of the Ring by Sauron. She saw him march out the Black Gate and over the Dead Marshes, and beneath his feet the ground turned to fire. She saw the White Tree of Minas Tirith burn as the gates of the city were thrown down. She witnessed as armies from the three Kindreds were assailed and fought desperate battles over their lands and for their people. Amidst all this horror she saw Lothlorien burning, the land she had kept safe all this time set aflame by dark magic.

"Now that you have seen what I fear, understand what I say. My means may appear evil but my intentions are only to preserve this land, that is my mission. I will not suffer that you enter my mind for my thoughts are danger to all that seek to understand them. What say you?"

His gaze left hers and he focused once again on the council, leaving her with this question. The meeting had kept going with the herald of Mirkwood explaining the current situation.
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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #12 am: 1. Sep 2016, 04:23 »
Her reply was quick as lightning, catching the Istar almost by surprise. Now, the thoughts of the wizard were turned by her might into a single continuous stream of dazzling memories; hers.

All of a sudden, Saruman was conducted in her mind as a traveller from afar, through pride, fiery resolution, doubts, ambitions, unspeakable sorrows and ancient horror. Some kind of horror that anyone from the Third Age of Middle-earth would have deemed impossible to bear; every of those very otherworldly images would nonetheless drive every common being into outright desperation. The Lady knew perfectly, though, that the White Wizard could have witnessed that without repercussions of any sort, given his own blessed nature. His mental barriers were solid indeed, but no way was Galadriel intended to pierce them (albeit having the power to do it), lest this be interpreted as a direct harm and ultimately result in a counter-productive 'telepathic clash'. It's no doubt that he was briefly under the effect of her initiative anyway, not being able to learn anything useful for his purposes, while being briefly a passive spectator of what she thought appropriate to show him for her own purposes instead.

The rapid apparition went in reversed order and thus displayed itself from the then contemporary events to lost times in the centuries of Arda, becoming more and more evanescent as it got closer to the past. Nevertheless, any of her Elven emotions was alive as an immortal flame that never goes out, and it was them which eventually struck the head of the Istari.

The long nocturnal vigilance of Lothlórien's borders of Galadriel shifted to the founding of the Golden Wood itself and the first sowing of the colossal Mallorn Trees, until her deep apprehension as brutal wars were waged in the Second Age of the World and, before, the widespread destruction of the apocalyptic Cataclysm that had totally annihilated the legendary Númenórë (the luxuriant Land of Gift). And so, all turned obscure when he lastly beheld the ancestral conflict between Good and Evil in the Elder Days, her mourning for her sad royal kin's misfortunes, her joy in the attendance of the court of Elwë and her angel-queen Melian, the arrival in the rough shore of Beleriand and the terrible passing of the deadly Helcaraxë. Finally, her mind was about to unveil her unknown life before the Sun and the Moon (one of the secrets he always craved), but, at that point, his thoughts went blurred and that flow stopped abruptly, for there were binding restrictions on his and the other four wizards' human-shaped bodies and memories as well; limits that they could never circumvent. What they were only allowed to remember was the mission they were ordered to accomplish by the ones who rule beyond the Sea.

The Lady of Light was obviously aware of such properties of theirs and that vision of hers thus served her very well: Saruman remained in silent yet deep contemplation mixed with awe, having been reminded of whom he was interacting with and that character's true essence. Something he had always longed to know and understand completely anytime his studies (and plans) encompassed the mightiest Elf of the Third Age; the mysterious Sorceress of Dwimordene, as she was named among Men in the vicinities of Rohan. But no resentment was in her successive reply, as they both respected each other greatly and were aiming to the same end (even via substantially different means). She had always been recognised by unanimity as the real leading figure towering over the Wise, yet the Lady had never sought for any effective position of power (even less for a predominance in authority) and ever used her clout to support others in a quite detached attitude. She knew well that the destinies of Middle-earth were not to be in her hands either way.

''There is no ill will towards thee, industrious and skilled Curunír. I and my kin as a whole have always been bound to face the evil of Arda in all its forms, and even more horrible in might and propositions. I can clearly sense your heartfelt concern, but now we ought not to be uncertain in our path and in the choice this noble assembly is to make, for it will shape the whole course of this continent's fate. Our quest demands strength and effective weapons to be armed with; beware, though, of the one without staunch resolution and principles, as its path might often falter and be twisted amidst the tide''.

It would be unbelievable to think that such an exchange had taken place in so little time and quietness, with the other guests not realising it at all, if we weren't dealing with the chief of the Istari and the Lady of Lórien. She held him in considerable consideration, even though she had never really tried to convince herself that he was one of the 'decisive personalities' that the Good had been waiting for so long. Their very personal relationship was not in the best of the terms. She nonetheless hoped from the depth of her heart that nothing would have hindered their mission and that he genuinely was, as Mithrandir was used to saying, the 'formidable wise we can eventually rely on'; particularly, after she had now foreseen that the White Wizard's interest for lost forbidden artefacts would have inexorably increased in the decades to follow (though she wasn't yet sure about the overall outcome of this aspect). In redirecting her primary attention to the meeting, she found relief in the decision she had once took to avoid that the leading wizard knew the secret of the Three.

Her Elven ears had not stopped to pay attention to the development of the discussion. The ambassador of the Woodland Kingdom was in fact justifying his king's imperturbable stance on isolation from the outer affairs, mentioning the awakened shadows of Mirkwood and the consequent need of firm defence. Galadriel was aware that Thranduil, safely in his hidden halls, had grown much resentful and cold, in a forlorn wish to do without the forthcoming threats of the future to come. Events that shall determine what will be of his own people and realm too, willinglyy or unwillingly; as everyone else of the Free People would have finally been put in front of the final challenge.

As the debate went on, she felt that her time to stand up and participate was getting really closer.
« Letzte Änderung: 1. Sep 2016, 12:57 von DieWalküre »

The_Necromancer0

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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #13 am: 1. Sep 2016, 07:42 »
The Elf's reply was something Saruman had no expected, he had been prepared for her to either lower her gaze or counterattack with her mental powers but what she had done he had not been ready for. For a brief moment, feeling fought in his heart a wish for revenge, awe before an impressive foe and something else, darker than both. But Saruman's mind was still pure although his desire of mastery was ever growing and therefore, faced by such as respectable foe, the Head of the Istari, the Skilled One, the White Wizard, let a smile appear upon his face, a gesture so faint only the all-seeing eyes of Galadriel were able to catch it. The Lady of Lorien had earned more respect from the Wizard than anyone ever upon this Middle-Earth. Her participation should be interesting to watch...



The_Necromancer Small note: I just double checked, since this is the first meeting, Saruman has not taken residence in Isengard yet.

DieWalküre Thank you for the clarification: I edited my post.
« Letzte Änderung: 1. Sep 2016, 13:03 von DieWalküre »
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Re: The White Council
« Antwort #14 am: 1. Sep 2016, 15:24 »
While the envoy of the Woodland Realm was nearing the end to the end of her report, Gandalf found himself deep in thought, while keeping up the appearance of someone who is actively listening to what was being discussed. He had heard most of the news from Thranduil's kingdom earlier when he visited the forest a few months ago. Instead, his attention shifted towards a small piece of land in the centre of Eriador that had miraculously survived the fall of Arnor: the Sûza, or Shire, the land of the halflings. Its inhabitants had grown dear to the wizard's heart, even though he could not stay for long. Indeed, it was true that he had no home, travelling far and wide between the realms of Elves, Men and Dwarves, ever striving to fight the darkness wherever it threatened the peaceful live of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. The Secret Fire that kept him going and invigourated his spirit, the gift from Círdan, was a well-hidden treasure that only the other bearers of the Three knew about. The Rings of Air and Water bore the powers of healing, protection and renewal, but Narya was different. It gave him the strength, the energy, the willpower he needed to continue his quest, even as the world grew colder.

More than a thousand years Gandalf had journeyed across Middle-earth, sometimes alongside trusted companions, but most of the times he had been alone. That is why he was glad that the Lady of Lórien had called this meeting. Only united would they be able to face the growing darkness. Finding solace in the comfort of Galadriel, the knowledge of Saruman and the experience of Elrond and Círdan, the Grey Pilgrim searched his heart for the questions that had begun to stir within in the last few years.

"What do we make of these rising threats?" he asked as the Elf from Mirkwood returned to her seat. "Who might be causing them? Could there be a connection between the rumours of war from the South and East as well as the shadow upon the Greenwood? And what of the Nine, seizing Minas Ithil? I may be called wise by some, but I do not feel that my wisdom is enough to answer these questions. We must work together to solve this riddle."

His glance wandered from face to face, seeking answers, while attempting to maintain a guarded expression. The unspoken conversations that had been taking place since the meeting began seemed to intensify. Suddenly, Gandalf realized that he might have spoken too soon, without having heard all the reports from the council's members. Maybe there was something he had overlooked? But the urgency he felt about the matter said otherwise. He took a deep breath, waiting for any responses.