#heidinnvif

[shldwielded-moved]

plotted starter for @heidinnvif !

   AROUND twigs and rocks he wove, sword hand laying upon the hilt as though he were on edge. These woods seemed DESERTED of any life at all, besides himself— the young Nord did not care for it. He was not partial to the wilderness, or at least, wilderness like this that seemed to stretch ENDLESSLY over Skyrim. The scars on his face seemed to itch with REMEMBRANCE. The path he walked upon seemed to be hardly ever tread, if at all. Sven hated it, every damn second of it.

   AND then there were noises, and that really wasn’t helping his case either. It almost sounded like... RUNNING, some kind of movement. More than one person, or animal, or... thing. He tried to pay it little mind, as it was distant, but his grip tightened on his sword hilt. Walking, walking, walking— and it was getting LOUDER. He turned his head— a doe darted past him, and then another, unseen force barreled into his backside.

[elesheir]

Wicked lurked that evil in the night, the air grown cold with Death’s cruel whispers. The breeze shuddered and trembled, the leaves quivered and shook. Something most terrible grew astir in the east, and Strider heard well its calls amidst the prattle of the townsfolk. O, but what would they know of these bandits, of marauders and vultures that sought on them plunder? He’d caught their scent in those woodlands he’d traveled, making haste when at last he knew well where it led. His stolen pendant, of course, was but one minor detail – though, true, she may likely know now where it laid.

The wanderer eyed her as he walked the trampled path, winding through the thick throng of people. It must be her, surely? Many days had passed since the trail had grown cold, but nothing would he be without will and perseverance! She would doubtless be a woman of great talent and skill, though sadly would it be left upraised. “Not many are those who can walk so unseen,” he dared with much grit, arm nearly grazing hers as he halted. Standing tall, the Dúnadan’s presence loomed. To all who passed by, they looked not but strange outsiders again in odd talk. Yes– “Long enough have you and brothers eluded me.” And if thief she were, then surely she knew of her ilk that drew near.

@heidinnvif, a nameless shadow.

[mindsmade]

           Forced to proceed her hunt outside of her caverns, Shelob decides against wreaking havoc on all eight legs, instead blending in and deploying her wiles. Not only does it take less out of her, but it adds a measure of fun to the whole ordeal, too. For now, she seeks not to lure her prey back to her hideout; she seeks to observe and ( perhaps ) to learn. Idling along the outer fence of a wayside inn is her starting method — until the sight of one person in particular spurs her into action and out of the shadow.  ❛  A weary traveler, I presume? Though none of insignificant renown, I see.  ❜     ( @heidinnvif )