B2MEM 2012 - March 9th
Mar. 9th, 2012 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
altarielThe number called was O65.
My cards and prompts were:
Alternate Viewpoint: The Clouds Burst
March 3019: 6th The Haradrim in Ithilien
Map’s Edge: The Petty Dwarves
Scientific achievement: Statics
Crooked Games
“You are playing some crooked game of your own, Master Gandalf.”
Thorin Oakenshield, “The Quest of Erebor”, UT
*
He left us then, our hearth flickering with the image of dragon-fire in Eriador. “Old Gandalf’s not so close as he once was,” Pippin said.
“Aye,” said Gimli, “but does not say everything.” His brows gathered like storm clouds.
“What do you mean?” I said. “I for one have never heard the tale told so plain!”
“He knew those orcs were coming from the North. Yet he gave no warning.”
“But he guessed that an old man’s words would go unheeded,” Merry said. “Old feuds and old gold cloud the mind.”
“And Thorin died,” said Gimli. “A costly game indeed.”
Soldiers of Ithilien
For many years now, he has walked through this green land. He knows its paths and secret ways, the names of its flowers and shrubs, the silver ripple of the river running by. He knows its ruins.
He has battled here beneath the trees many times, and lost many friends in these fragrant, pleasant valleys. During sleepless nights beneath the moon, he has sworn to himself that he will see this place free of his enemies, settled, safe again for woman and child.
He stands once more on the edge of battle. “Captain,” whispers his lieutenant. “The tarkil are here.”
A Decayed House
Even they no longer recalled why they had been driven forth. Perhaps they had been too clever or too rich. Somehow they had been different. Whatever the reason, it had been enough, and there was no-one left to remember why. They were almost gone now, and their persecutors did not care.
Only old Mîm remained, sitting in the ruins, running tarnished gold through his fingers, murmuring the names of his sons. There Húrin found him and, lifting his sword, with one quick movement sent him from the world. Last of a dead people, Mîm lay at rest.
And Morgoth laughed.
My cards and prompts were:
Alternate Viewpoint: The Clouds Burst
March 3019: 6th The Haradrim in Ithilien
Map’s Edge: The Petty Dwarves
Scientific achievement: Statics
Crooked Games
“You are playing some crooked game of your own, Master Gandalf.”
Thorin Oakenshield, “The Quest of Erebor”, UT
*
He left us then, our hearth flickering with the image of dragon-fire in Eriador. “Old Gandalf’s not so close as he once was,” Pippin said.
“Aye,” said Gimli, “but does not say everything.” His brows gathered like storm clouds.
“What do you mean?” I said. “I for one have never heard the tale told so plain!”
“He knew those orcs were coming from the North. Yet he gave no warning.”
“But he guessed that an old man’s words would go unheeded,” Merry said. “Old feuds and old gold cloud the mind.”
“And Thorin died,” said Gimli. “A costly game indeed.”
Soldiers of Ithilien
For many years now, he has walked through this green land. He knows its paths and secret ways, the names of its flowers and shrubs, the silver ripple of the river running by. He knows its ruins.
He has battled here beneath the trees many times, and lost many friends in these fragrant, pleasant valleys. During sleepless nights beneath the moon, he has sworn to himself that he will see this place free of his enemies, settled, safe again for woman and child.
He stands once more on the edge of battle. “Captain,” whispers his lieutenant. “The tarkil are here.”
A Decayed House
Even they no longer recalled why they had been driven forth. Perhaps they had been too clever or too rich. Somehow they had been different. Whatever the reason, it had been enough, and there was no-one left to remember why. They were almost gone now, and their persecutors did not care.
Only old Mîm remained, sitting in the ruins, running tarnished gold through his fingers, murmuring the names of his sons. There Húrin found him and, lifting his sword, with one quick movement sent him from the world. Last of a dead people, Mîm lay at rest.
And Morgoth laughed.
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