Rieka the Red -

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Previous Entry Nov. 1st, 2003 @ 12:50 am Next Entry
As the sun begins to set, the red-cloaked woman, now known of a bit more than before, begins to travel the streets. Unlike her wanderings at other times of day, this travel is methodical. Starting at the outer gate, she follows a street to her left. Her pace is even as she walks, and she looks at nothing... and no one. This walk is buisiness. She pauses momentarily to tap her staff when she reaches a lamp post. It lights, a bright fire illuminating the surrounding area. She continues to walk on, doing the same at every light, until she reaches the end of the road.

Here, she takes another street, repeating the same process as was done on the street before. She does the same on the next street; and again on the next, and again, and again, and again, and again. She is silent the whole time, but ever-watchfull. Rats that pass her are thrown against walls with barely a flick of her staff. Some of the children still out at night find this ammusing, but she ignores it all, continueing to light the lamps.

Nothing slows her pace. Not people. Not fights. Not even the growing crowd of children behind her. You would think they would gety bored of it. She has done the same for nearly a week now after offering her services to the city in a conversation with Faramir. But they, like her, do not tire of it all. For her it is a duty. Something that must be done until she can get the right things for the magic to work on its own. For them, it is fun and games, but still, they are ignored.

Still weaving through the streets, nothing changes besides the ever-growing crowd. Even when she is almost done, she persists as if she will never stop, or had never started. It seems that it has always been, such is her manner of doing it. But by the time she reaches that small inn by the stables, her path has taken her down every street in the city. Every lamp was lit and darkness had finally fallen. She took just enough time, so that none would be left in the dark. Were the people modern, they would have called her a machine, but the people of Middle Earth have no concept of such things.

Finished her work, Rieka proceeds to enter the inn, leaving the followers behind her. They dare not come in. The first time they had tried, but after some harsh words from the innkeeper, they never even crossed the street. She becomes more relaxed as the heat of the inn's fire bombards her senses, and after a bit of juggling (one of the only ways she had convinced the innkeeper to let her stay without paying) she takes a seat at her usual table in the corner, close, but not too close to the raging fire.

Here, she eats her daily dinner...



I really should write in this more often, but I have been a bit less idle as of late. It would seem that word of my existence has gotten around a bit. About a week ago, though I am not sure of the exact day, I ran into a man called Faramir. From my readings, I know that he is the second son of the previous Steward of Gondor. He had heard about me from somewhere, and had come to seek my advice on the dangers that this place now faces.

I must admit I had been worried about these. From talking to the children of the city, I learn much. Rats are showing up in increasing numbers. My first thought was to leave out poisoned bread, but food is scarce, so I suggested to try cats. They may be able to help, though I'm not sure how much.

In talking to him, I volunteered to help light the streets. Every night, I go out as the sun begins to lower in the sky. By the time I am done, it is gone, but the darkness does not set in as wholly as it should. I light the street lamps, using no fuel. That is needed elsewhere, and the simple magic is a small thing I can do. The extra light should make the streets a bit safer.

The wraith also bothers me. He wanders the streets in the form of a man, I have heard. I know that wraiths fear fire, but I wish I knew how to destroy one. As far as Faramir knows, even Eowyn, who I was told defeated a wraith, does not know how to do it. My theory is that you must show yourself stronget than the wraith, and willing to give up more, but it is just a theory, and it would not be wise to hold any theory as truth. In all honesty, I do not know enough about the wraiths to know how to destory them. Perhaps I should read more on what happened to them. With any luck, the records and the library of the city will have something, but it may not be so.

I've also heard that the orcs are out roaming. Orcs are evil to all but the very core of their existence, for once they were not as they are now, but there is no reaching that small pice of the past that may be left. The orcs will show no mercy to the people of Gondor. Next time I see Faramir, I should tell him that outer-lying villiages and farms are in harms way, though I have no doubt he knows this. Still, some effort should be put into fortifying those areas as well, especially what's left of farm lands. And fi they do that, they might as well work on Minas Tirith too. Magnificent it is, but you can see the signs of decay. They should convince the people to work to make everything better. People have grown. Let their cities grow too, since that is what they will remember.

But first, the effort should be made to make things safe. Safety above all else. Dark times have not passed, but you can see the sun beginning to rise.

Standing and placing the journal back into her pocket, Rieka walks towards the stairs that lead up to her room.
Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: The chatter of people
(Not all who wander are lost)
From:[info]beren
Date: November 1st, 2003 - 03:30 pm
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Coming down from the steps, his head bowed and thoughts claiming his attention, he does not see that he is in the way of someone until it is too late. His shoulder crashes against her but before any accident, he places his hand on her arm a bit roughly to steady her.

I apologize, I did not see you coming up."

((whee blatant attempt at interaction. ^^))
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From:[info]rieka
Date: November 1st, 2003 - 03:57 pm
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Rieka stops to look at who had crashed into her, taking added balance from her staff. "It is all right. It actually happens more than you'd think."
From:[info]beren
Date: November 1st, 2003 - 04:02 pm
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He nods politely, taking his hand away from her arm he speaks in a low and calm tone.

"Then perhaps these dimly lit inn stairways are to be blamed?"
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From:[info]rieka
Date: November 1st, 2003 - 06:43 pm
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SHe nods, "That or the city is responsible in some way. Or maybe we are all just to involved in what we are doing to pay attention to those around us."
From:[info]beren
Date: November 1st, 2003 - 11:16 pm
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A small smile touches his lips.

"But indeed shouldn't it be the other way round in these dire times?"
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From:[info]rieka
Date: November 3rd, 2003 - 02:04 am
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She nods. "It should, and I see many people paying more attention to others, but in doing that, they sometimes forge to pay attention to what is actually going on around them.'
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From:[info]rieka
Date: November 30th, 2003 - 10:53 pm
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"That it should, and many seem to be involved in helping it," she laughs softly, "but they pay attention to only what they've set out to do, and not the minor details surrounding them. What is your name?"
From:[info]beren
Date: December 1st, 2003 - 04:59 am
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He nods politely at her statement and smiles for a fraction of a moment.

"My name..." he offers in a uiet yet resolute voice, "...is Beren Erchamion."
(Not all who wander are lost)
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