As Gil-Estel walked through the crowded streets of Angband, he reflected on how stark a contrast Angband was from his home city of Yomenïampa. Despite the fact that the streets were packed with all manner of people, the city felt devoid of life. There were no plants or animals to be seen save feral dogs and the occaisional cow or goat. Gil-Estel could hear no birds singing, nor any leaves rustling, the only sounds were the roar of the crowd and the whistle of the hot desert wind.

Ahead of him, Gil-Estel saw the building he had been instructed to find. He approached the dingy door and pushed aside the ragged curtain covering the otherwise open doorway. He found a small table in the corner and sat down, drawing his hood further down his brow.

Now all he had to do was wait for the person he had been sent to meet. On second thoughts, it would be better if he got himself a drink.

With a large flagon in one hand, and a small pint of ale in the other Thobos sat on the far table in the corner of the room. Now, he may have been in a mildly drunken state, but it was quite odd to see an elf in this kind of place. Of all the cities and pubs in the world, this was the last place Thobos’ though he would witness an elf sitting to drink. This was simply a dangerous place.

Thobos’ Didn’t even trust the people he was around. A long scimitar laid over both sides of the table he was sitting at. It was a simple warning, basically saying ‘I’m drunk, and I have this big sword, so leave me along.’ Here it wasn’t a surprising thing to see a quick random brawl. Sometimes they were over as quickly as they started, others would last for hours. Drinking among murderers and thieves, most of which armed, is a hair raising occasion.

Once the ale in his hand had been poured down his throat, Thobos stood and walk past everyone towards the bartender. As he began to step past the elf, he gave him and quick glance. He was going to continue on his way, but felt the need to confront the elf. It had been a while since he had even gazed upon one of the strange creatures.

“Aye, What are you doing here?”

As Gil-Estel sat at his table, trying desperately to sink into the background of this very un-elven place, he noticed an extremely large human male walking in his direction. He was relieved when the obviouslt armed man walked past him. But suddenly the man seemed to have second thoughts. “Aye, What are you doing here?”, the man asked.

"My business is my own.", replied Gil-Estel. All of a sudden, Gil-Estel realised that this man (large and intimidating though he was), could be of use to him. "But maybe, if you come drink with me, I shall make it yours as well. But tell me, how do I know I can trust you?"

A deep laugh rose from the rough throat of the large man, then his scimitar fell onto the table carelessly. This slight miscalculation was easily blamed on the alcohol. The scabbard bounced lightly, but the weapon was large and heavy so it mostly just made a loud bang with the meeting of the wood and metal.

“A drink, with that you have my complete attention."

In one drunken motion Thobos sat in a chair just in front of the elf. The chair creaked, crying out under the weight of the man. Quickly Thobos began to stare down the creature he had engaged himself with. He didn’t know what the elf was about to say, or propose but he did know that life was hard with out money. Elves usually had money, and Thobos knew this. Maybe the elf had realized where he was and wanted a body guard. Though, elves are a strong and able race, Thobos never bothered giving them the respect that possibly deserved.

In the small tribe in which Thobos had risen, it was prized to have mass. The bigger you were the better. Height and muscle was prized over intelligence or magic ability at any moment, and in any fight. Although this was a narrow viewpoint, it was slightly true when coupled with technique. So, staring at the utterly small figure of the elf compared to Thobos he felt completely in control.

“So, what is it you have in mind?”

Surveying the large man who had just sat down at his table, Gil-Estel decided that he was probably not the type of man who would report him or details of his task. He also decided that he was just the type of man Gil-Estel would need around him during his stay in Angband.

He called over the obviously overworked barmaid and asked that she fetched the man another ale (despite the fact that he'd clearly already had his fair share). After the ale had been delivered and Gil-Estel had paid, he took another look at the man.

"First, tell me your name", he said, "and then you shall hear my business".

As soon as the ale hit the counter was the money was exchanged Thobos’ reached his large hand out and yanked up to his mouth. Quickly most of the contents of the upside down container were taken down into his stomach. As he brought the cup down, laying it beside his weapons, he wiped his scruffy mouth. His brow raised slightly when he elf began speaking.

“Aye, I am Thobos.”

His voice was deep, and thick. A few small drops fell to the table from the hair’s growing from the barbarian’s face. Usually Thobos didn’t wear any sort of facial hair, but even the shortest stay in this town had slightly lowered his level of hygiene. Thus, in the few weeks he had been here, Thobos had grown quite a impressive beard. The hairs, coarse and best described as annoying. Occasionally he reached up to his face, and scratched his beard rather fiercely, making and sandpaper like noise. ‘What I would do for a mirror and a sharp dagger.’ Thought Thobos as began clawing at the right side of his face again for a moment.

"Thobos?", repeated the elf? He pondered the name for a moment, was this the Thobos he had been sent to seek? He decided that until he could be certain, it would be best to keep the man occupied.

Trying to hide his disgust for the man's unkempt appearance and beard (elves lacked the ability to grow beards), Gil-Estel began to talk.

"Well friend, I've been sent to this city with the task of searching for a Man. He goes by the name of Thobos, much like you, only he hires himself to people for protection, and I can't imagine that you would find any people to hire him in a place so full of people who can obviously... take care of themselves. You wouldn't know where I can find him would you?"

Thobos simply listened carefully as the elf described him. As soon as the elf’s words were complete a drunken hand grabbed at the large hilt of the weapons laying across the table. He only pulled the blade a little more than an inch out of the scabbard. His gaze was solely on the elf, and his every motion. No one else existed to him, he words that the elf spoke caught him completely off guard. The only thought running through Thobos’ mind was that this elf is possibly looking to cause him harm.

“I am Thobos, and I am the man you are looking for. If it is your plan to fight, get to it, or explain what it is you are wanting.”

His words were sharp, and to the point. Though he was well intoxicated, Thobos still completely trusted his ability to use a sword. When the tribes would go to war when he was young, most of the warriors would always fight drunk. The secret is not drinking to much, there is a perfect amount. Thobos’ had been drinking all evening though, so he may have been a little too drunk to fight, but he still would. He just hoped that is not was the elf was here for, if so Thobos was going to have to rely on his barbarian ability to fight, along with his ability to hold his alcohol well.

"Calm yourself, friend. I have no wish to fight. Yet. I have been sent by my father to seek you out. We have need of your services. I'm afraid that I don't have enough time to explain now, but if you'll come wi..."

At that moment, three heavily armed men burst through the doorway of the tavern. One man drew a bow and aimed an arrow at Gil-Estel. The other drew a sword and held it to Thobos' throat. The last man drew his sword.

"Ahh, Gil-Estel" he said, "Mae Govannen [well met] I'm afraid your little mission has failed."

The figure advanced, but in an instant Gil-Estel had drawn his bow, nocked an arrow and shot the archer by the door, leaving Thobos to deal with his guard.

Drawing his knives, he prepared to fight the leader of the gang. Unfortunately, at that moment, at least ten more similarly armed men entered the tavern. This was going to be interesting.

As soon as the swords tip near Thobos’ throat he simply grabbed it his left hand. The man instantly tried to pull the blade from the large hand that was around it. Thobos’ didn’t allow the blade to move. His face stared down at the little man holding the blade as he rose up from his chair. In his right hand was his sword, which was now completely in the scabbard.

“Thick skin, aye, I wonder how yours would fair.”

At the moment the words left his mouth the mens skull was bludgeoned by the hilt of the scimitar. It was a quick, brutal movement, literally bashing the hilt of his sword into the man head. He fell to the wooden floor like a rag, limp and bleeding. Thobos simply looked at the door, and the crowd of men rushing through it. With out even thinking about it he used his fear technique to scare the men. Though he was already in motion, he crossed the gap in one drunken leap. He began swinging heavy into the group of men, not fighting one of them personally, but everyone within reach. He had not even bothered unsheathing his weapon, but instead he was simply battering the men’s weapons, armor, or whatever the blunt face of the scabbard happen to encounter. He made four or five swipes moderately fast. His alcohol level, along with his size, and the strength he was putting into each strike slowed them.

Duelling with the still anonymous leader of the assailing gang, Gil-Estel took a quick glance at where he thought his large companion was standing, only to find that he had, in fact, moved over to the door and was now engaged in a fight with not only one man, but the whole group of ten!

It seemed as though Gil-Estel and his opponent were pretty much matched in their combat abilities, so, rolling over a nearby table, Gil-Estel grabbed a pitcher of water and tossed it at the man. As soon as the clear liquid touched the man's skin, he appeared to begin to steam. All of a sudden the man disappeared in a puff of thick, black, foul-smelling smoke.

Looking over to see whether Thobos had finished cleaning up the other men, Gil-Estel called "Come! Let us leave!".

He ran over to the door, leaped over the body of one of the men and ran off in the general direction of the city's gates, hoping that Thobos was following. He knew that without him, he would have no chance of escape.

After his first few swings Thobos pulled his blade from its home. Holding his sword in his right and the scabbard in the left he continued attacking. He made use of the light scabbard to simply block his opponents blows, and he slashed madly with his right hand. He was only able to fight the number of men by keep them backed around and in the doorway. If he stopped swinging they would try to get around to his sides and back, which would make things much more difficult. His swings were wild and inaccurate, more meant to scare than kill, though a few managed to show the blade open flesh. When the sword did meet skin it ripped through whatever it touched. A few of the men’s limbs were lost, and a couple hit the floor for good.

Once he had saw the elf fleeing, Thobos quickly followed. He was usually for running from a fight, but he was out numbered, drunk, and this elf might have some interesting things to say. His intoxication didn’t allow him to pay enough attention the see the man disappear, or to even hear the elf speak before Thobos saw him run out the door. As they ran past a few building, Thobos slowly caught up with the elf. The men didn’t follow them, but they undoubtedly knew better than to continue the fight.

“What is going on?!”

Thobos roared so the elf would understand that he was tired of him skirting around everything.

Shocked by the suddenly loud voice behind him, Gil-Estel wheeled around drawing his bow. Seeing that it was only Thobos, he lowered his bow. Realising that he had possibly been slightly rash in not explaining why he had just interrupted this man's life.

"My apologies, Thobos my friend. I suppose I should explain what is going on! My father, a lord of Yomenïampa, needs you to fulfill a task for him. I have travelled from the realm of Yomenïampa in the south of Arda in order to seek you out. We must travel down to the village of Estolad, where we will hopefully meet the other companion we need to fulfill this mission. On the way I will explain why it is that you and only you, are needed for this task come we must leave the city, I hope you have water, it will be a long and arduous journey to Estolad.".

Once again, he set off towards the cities gates, mentally reviewing the route that would take him and Thobos to the village of Estolad.

As they reached the gates Thobos began sprinting. He knew the elf would follow, and getting a move on quick would catch any would be pursuers off guard. Thobos now realized that he may have gotten himself into a bit of trouble. He continued running until he got to a small cave in the sand. He quickly coaxed his large body inside of the small burrow, and sat down. There was enough space in the small underground room the fit three men of thobos’ size. It had been carved out of the side of a sand dune, and strengthened with bits of wood. It wasn’t much of a shelter, but it was something.

“It’s the desert, wouldn’t want to travel during the day. We need to wait for nightfall.”

Thobos thoughts began to drift on the matter at hand. They had a long journey to go on, and thobos didn’t quite understand why he was following this elf on his mission. Maybe it was just boredom, and a barbarian’s love for battle. Anything to get him out of that city was more than welcomed anyway. Now Thobos just hope his companion knew what he was doing, he didn’t see him fight. It would be hard to make this kind of trip with someone who couldn’t defend themselves. Though, thobos realized he was more than likely not giving the elf the respect he deserved.

When they reached the gates, Gil-Estel noticed Thobos start sprinting. He set off after him hoping that they would find some shelter from the hot desert sun (which Gil-Estel knew would be deadly if they stayed out in it for long).

Soon Thobos ducked into a small cave and Gil-Estel followed, relieved that there was some shelter.

Gil-Estel sat cross-legged in the sand and looked at the man who had so willingly accompanied him.

"Tell me Thobos," he said, "what made you decide to become a hired bodyguard?"

Thobos bowed his head, looking down at the elf. He blinked quickly and simply said.

“Some people need help, and I need to make it in this world. Fighting comes rather easy to people like me, it’s all we big brutes are really good for.”

He laughed for a moment, and then he began speaking again.

“You might as well get a little sleep. The sun will sink into the earth in a few hours, I’ll keep watch, and I’ll wake you when it is time to leave.”

After he was through talking, he crawled outside the small shelter. Pulling his hood up over his face and shoulders he stared out into the desert towards the city. He watched for small shimmers of steel in the sand, or the muffled sound of people running. Sitting he began to hum, and eventually sing. The songs were about his old home, they were songs only know by his tribe. Most of them were about battle, dying in combat, and others were about the gods.

Gil-Estel just sat there as the big, seemingly brutish Man began to sing beautiful songs of Gods and War. It seemed as though the Man was changed by the words he was singing. Eventually Gil-Estel drifted into an uneasy sleep...

He was running, running through the searing heat of the desert, pursued by some unknown evil. Suddenly ahead of him he saw Yomeniempa, his home. And she was there. Just standing there with a look of sadness in her eyes. He ran up to her, longing for her embrace. As he approached her, he reached out to feel her smooth skin. As soon as his hands made contact she disappeared in a puff of thick, black, foul-smelling smoke. "RAEWYN!!!"

Gil-Estel sat up, sweating despite the fact that the desert air was now cool and dark.

"Is it time to go?"he asked.

“Aye, that it is.”

Following the stars he began to walk. His feet moved more swiftly now, due to the fact he was sober. The dangers of the desert were nearly infinite, and Thobos wanted to them behind as quickly as possible. The ground felt like powder under his weight, making it harder for him to move. Being as large as Thobos had man drawbacks, and this was one. Thobos knew he would be exhausted by the time they got out of the desert.

“We need to get a far as we can before the sun comes up.”
Thobos knew that by himself self he could make it to a forest from here in a nights time. He didn’t know the condition of the elf though. The elf took shorter strides, and he may tire out quickly. Thobos simply shrugged his shoulders, and just hoped the elf could keep up, but he also considered that he might not be able to keep up with the elf at full speed. He just didn’t know, elves were so alien to him.

Sand began flying to the air with more violence as Thobos quickly moved from a walk to a jog. This was quickly turned into a run, as he leaped across the sands. Carefully he tried not to put to much weight on each foot at they met the soft ground. He continued to run for hours, only slowing down for a few moments at a time. His sword bounced wildly at his hip, and his hair bounced up and down covering anything that touched it in sweat. He wasn’t going to stop until he was out of this sandy hell hole.

Running after Thobos was no mean feat. He was a fast man, especially for someone so large. However, Gil-Estel's lithe form and low weight meant that while Thobos' feet sunk far into the sand, Gil-Estel ran atop the sand, making hardly a footprint.

On the dawn of the third day of their flight through the desert, the air became considerably cooler. On the horizon thyey could see green. Trees and grass, welcoming and calling them.

Before another hour had passed, they were upon the Salquedor Grasslands amongst the most welcoming greenery Gil-Estel had ever seen.



OOC: We can probably move this to a private post on the Salquedor Grasslands now.