Narel was born in Arthedain in Third Age 1642 during the great plague. On that day five children were born, Narel being the first, and within hours all of the inhabitants but the five had surrendered to the plague. A hunting party of Sindarian elves discovered the children and took them to their home. The five were not separated, but treated as siblings and raised by the entire village. They were given elvish names: Narel, 'Fire Star' for his red hair. Eardraug, 'Sea Wolf', for his hair like the white foam of the ocean. Kemenannon, 'Earth's Gift', for his earth brown hair and eyes. Lauresul, 'Golden Wind' for her golden hair. And Mithual, 'Grey Twilight' for his dark grey hair. It was foretold by elvish sages that the five had a great destiny and so each was school according to their talents. Narel was ever studious,
more interested in the library than the practice field. Early on he displayed a talent for the magic the elves taught and by his late teens had exhausted the skills of his mentors. On their eighteenth birthday
the five learned of their destiny from the dwarven alchemist, Johan, the
destruction of the Court of Ardor. He was sent to them by the White Council
and instructed to take them in hand as teacher. Given the knowledge
of the location of the Items of Power the five would need, Johan lead them
into the world on their quest. Sadly, Johan's life with the five
proved to be very short as he was killed within a month of their departure,
the knowledge of the locations of all the Items lost with him.
For years now the five, known as the Company, have traveled the world on
their quest. Far and wide across Arda they have traveled. From
Arthedain, their home, to Gondor, to the City State of Umbar, into the
Ered Luin in the west to the very gates of Mordor their search has taken
them. Along the way they have helped thousands and save hundred,
battling orcs, trolls and even the spawn of Morgoth, a dragon. One
by one the Items of Power have been discovered and taken, increasing the
Company's power and improving their chanced to succeed in the destruction
of the Court of Ardor.
As nature is timeless, four have found soul mates. Lauresul was first.
A solo trip to Moria to further her studies of Alchemy and Metal craft brought
her into contact with an elven bard named Tardurn. The two are inseparable
and Tardurn always travels with the Company. Wolf married a hometown
girl, Brittany and they have five children. Kemen is betrothed to
a young noblewoman of the Realm of Gondor whom he rescued from a family
of hill giants planning on having her for dinner, complete with an apple
in her mouth. Mith was killed and most of his body destroyed
but with the help of Elrond of Rivendale he has been restored through a
magical cloning. This has left him physically twenty years junior
to his 'siblings. He is still to young to settle down with one woman
and is somewhat of a Romeo.
Ghost Archer has traveled to Arda, many time, in search of his parents.
During his first trip, his memories stripped by the Road, he was found
by Lauresul and Tardurn. With Laure's help his memory was returned
and over the years a fast friendship has developed between the three.
Several times the Archer has help the Company on their quest and when the
bowman was in dire need of help, he turned to Narel. Forgoing his
studies the mage accompanied Ghost Archer to his world and it is there
he met the love on his life, Nekoru. The couple have wed and have
recently been blessed by the birth of their son, Blaze Caranmir.
Narel's
Bachelor Party by Ghost Archer
Nick laid the pen on the desk, a grin spread across his face. He
stood, catching himself in the mirror. No, the suit was a cliché.
With a sweep of his hand he was dressed casually in a blood-red silk shirt,
neatly pressed cream slacks and moccasins. Better. Absently
he ran his fingers through his dark hair, his mind wandering to Rogue.
"Stop daydreaming," he muttered to himself.
The ruby dice appeared in his hand and he shook them. Instantly he stood
before the door to Narel's tower.
"Tsar, I must insist you announce yourself before arrival," Spock's modulated
voice chided.
"No fun in that," Nick retorted, knocking on the door.
He waited. Nothing. He knocked again, a bit harder.
He waited. Again nothing. Brows knitting together in a frown,
he pounded on the door causing it to groan at the assault. Not a
sound.
"Damn Mage," Nick muttered under his breath.
Straight arming the door open he marched across the living room and stomped
up the stairs to the library level. The door splintering into kindling
caused Narel to look up in surprise and shock. His hand closed on
the Staff of Eldarion and he raised it, chanting.
"Stop that!" Nick bellowed.
Narel blinked, the spell dying uncast.
"You are not dressed," the dragon glared at the mage's ink-spotted robe.
"TIRATH NAH BOR !"
The robe vanished, replaced by Narel's finest robes of rich red velvet.
His wild hair was combed, the ink marks on his face and hands gone.
"On thy feet, Mage, lest ye land on thy ass," Nick commanded.
Narel stood hastily.
"AE ANA ARDA!" the dragon intoned.
The sun was well down and the golden glow from the windows flickered on
the cobblestones of the street. They stood before a large three story
Inn with a sign of five interlocking rings of red, blue, green, black and
silver, the sign of the Elemental Inn. A rumble of laughter and song
washed over them as Nick pushed the door open.
The whole room roared welcome as Narel stepped in, dozens of male voices
shouting out best wishes to the groom. Wolf strode over to his brother
and clasped him by the shoulders.
"At
last!" He grinned broadly. "We were beginning to despair of you ever
coming out of the library long enough to notice women and you surprise
us with Neko."
Tardurn stepped up, offering a hand Narel grasp warmly.
"No more night time study for you, brother," Tar said.
"Now you'll find something far more interesting with which to spend your
evenings. Greetings, Tsar!"
Wolf's arm draped across the Mage's shoulder and drew him into the common
room of the inn. Fritz and Shelly had cleared all the tables from
the room and replaced them with a circle of sofas and easy chairs.
Everyone Narel could think of was there. Aydn Greyshadow played the
lute and Cufaen, called Ghost Archer, accompanied on the flute. Wolf sat and joined
in on drums and Tar took up his mandolin. Narel drew forth his own
flute and dropped onto the carpet before the fireplace. Fritz appeared
and set a goblet of elvish wine on a knee table along with a plate of pasties.
Narel nodded in appreciation and put the flute to his lips waiting to join
in. Across the circle from him set the grey wanderer himself, Mithrandir.
Beside him sat Elrond and Gildor Inglorion of Rivendale. Nearby,
SWATpup watched the two elvish Lords with great interest. Narel jumped
into the music as Tar sang a song of new love in the spring, rich love
in the summer, comfortable love in the autumn and final love in the winter.
When it was over all clapped and cheered the players. The mage downed
half the cup of wine and selected a few morsels.
Wolf and Kemen appeared beside him, lifting him to his feet. Fritz
and Mith shoved a divan under him and his brothers dropped him onto the
couch. Shelly said something into the other room and two girls entered
each holding a tray of food. One, a svelte blonde with cornflower
blue eyes, and the other, a lithe redhead with green eyes. A big
hand from Wolf pushed Narel over so he lay on the divan. The girls
knelt beside the couch, one on each side, and set their burdens on tables
provided by Tar. In less than five seconds the girls were hand feeding
the groom, very much to his discomfort.
The makeshift band struck up a sprightly tune and from the back room a trio
of young elven maidens emerged. Their long dark hair swirled as they
turned,
each a near mirror image of the other. Grey eyes scanned the room
and white teeth flashed in warm smiles. They danced around the circle
then stopped before Narel and took turns dancing just for him. To
his left Crusader sat stoically, arms crossed over his chest, an air of disapproval
set on his face. Wolf slapped the mage on the back, Nick noted, and
whispered something in Narel's ear. The mage's shocked look made
Wolf laugh.
SWAT eyed the blonde as he downed another mug of wine, his face clouded
slightly, a vision in his mind of the beautiful Thistle. One of the dancers pulled Narel to his feet, upsetting
a goblet, and began to dance around him. The mage's face was redder
than his robes. Tar switched the tune to a very bawdy song of three
dancers and a lucky man, a tale filled with innuendo. Mith was pulled
to his feet by another and he joined her with obvious relish. The
two constantly rubbed against each other and Nick wondered how far it would
go. The third girl grabbed Galileo and undulated for him. His
watchful calm never faltered.
Nick drew the redhead into his arms, spinning her away then back.
SWAT, overcome by the music, offered a hand to the blonde and soon they
too, danced around the circle. Tar changed the tune to an elegant
elvish tale and Elrond and Gildor joined him in the haunting "Luthien and
Beren". More than a few wept openly. The dancers fell into the classical
elvish style, a slow, precise dance that had been choreographed two thousand
years ago. Even Crusader broke down his reserve and wept, so beautiful and
tragic was the song. Nick leaned over Crusader's shoulder and whisper
to him.
"Do not be such a prude, Paladin," he said. "Thou art every bit as
human as the rest of them. Remember, thy exploits in a certain ‘house'
are now the stuff of legend."
Crusader blanched, then blushed furiously. Nick laughed.
"Get thee hence, Holy Warrior!" he cried and Crusader vanished.
Casually Nick caught the falling cup the Paladin had dropped, eyed it a
second, then drank it down. From across the room he caught Archer's
eye and winked at the bowman. The dancers, exhausted at last, draped
themselves on the nearest laps but Narel would have none of it and sat
primly sipping wine. SWAT commandeered the blonde and was happily
feeding her while one of the elvish girls hand fed Kleven. Wolf stood,
holding up a goblet.
"My friends, I give you Nekoru, Fairy Princess of Cats!"
All raised their cups.
"Nekoru, Fairy Princess of Cats!"
Tar took center stage and nodded to the Archer. The bowman struck
up a tune and Tardurn told the story of the breaking of Grond and Mount
Gunderbad . . .
Hours sped by, tales of Narel's daring do and the exploits of the company were
recounted. Most got drunk, some fell asleep, SWAT disappeared with the
blonde. In the end, only two remained fully awake. Nick sat
beside Cufaen and the archer looked at him through eyes unclouded
by fatigue or drink. The dragon picked up Tardurn's mandolin and
strummed it idly.
"A good party," he said.
Archer nodded.
"Indeed."
"Will you be at the wedding tomorrow?" Nick asked.
"I intend to give away the bride," the Archer replied.
Nick nodded.
"And I intend to give Rogue away as well," Ghost Archer said with a slight
smile. "Now, shall we take the mage home?"
They stood together and crossed to the divan. Narel lay with his
head on the lap of the redhead. She was stroking his hair, her eyes
closed. Nick grabbed the mage's arm and hoisted him over one shoulder.
Archer lifted the girl's legs and laid her out on the couch. With
a few words from Nick they were back in the library of Narel's tower.
"I'll take care of him," the dragon said. "You get back to Thistle."
Nick dropped Narel into his chair like a sack of potatoes. Standing
back, he returned the mage to the condition he had found him in the night
before, complete with ink spots on his face.
"Figure he will believe it a dream?" Archer asked with a smile.
"Perhaps," said Nick with a wicked grin.
"Library, Spock," Archer said with a chuckle and vanished.
Nick teleported to the tree house and Rogue a second later, his laughter
ringing through the tower.
|