Inwe & Guerin

Echoes in the Palantir

“Well Inwe, what do you have to say?” The disembodied voice is scratchy and thin. The palantir shows a distant pale purple glow, shrouded in swirling grey mist. The purple light increases in intensity as a reply emanates from the orb. “Of course, we would appreciate all the assistance you can offer to ensure our position is not put at risk.” The voice is instantly recognisable and the face that appears through the mist is hauntingly beautiful - Inwë. “And you would be prepared to pay the price?” The voice is almost a whisper, carried on the wind. “My forces are at your disposal; your masters know that.” Inwe’s confidence is clear, although she fails to hide a fleeting look of regret. “What of your champion?” “Aaah, that is a little more difficult.” Inwe’s gaze travels down as if a naughty child who has finally been caught. “How so?” Almost imperceptibly, the voice rises in pitch and strength. “He is with my Lady.” A dreamy look is in her as eyes but as her gaze returns, it’s darker this time. “Ah, that explains much; do you have someone to command your army at Caladhon?” The voice is once more thin and rasping. “Clearly not!” Her look threatened to destroy the orb and anything beyond. “May I be of assistance?” The tone is reassuring and quiet against the echo of Inwe’s displeasure. You?” She adopts a slightly mocking lilt, cocking her head to one side as if she had not fully understood. “Why not?” The voice sounds strangely hurt, “I have already delivered Sutur; Caladhon will prove no more difficult.” “Yes, of course, you have experience of the old paths into Ishtur.” Motherly she is now, as if calming a petulant child. The voice raises sharply, “I have experience of much Inwe;” clearly, not one to be patronised, “would it not make sense for me to lead our combined strength against the men of Gorgoroth before we face the Jackal?” “Or I just stay hidden and wait for you to chase away the troublesome dog…” she mocks. “Or perhaps, Inwe, I reveal your hiding place and retreat into mine…” The threat is real enough. “Alright Dark Wolf, you have convinced me.” Inwe’s laugh is genuine. “Crushing the youngest of Gorgoroth will be simple compared to the more ancient threat.” “What know you of White Star’s Artefacts?” pressing home the advantage the voice takes on a conspiratorial tone. “Little, and you?” The lie is obvious – too obvious. “We both know that they are near you; the bearers seek to destroy you and retrieve their friend, do they not?” The owner of the voice is impatient; it is not the time to play these games. “Some are close I understand, what happened to the female half-breed? Did you let her slip away?” Inwe, it would seem, never tires of games – any opportunity to belittle. “You really do not know, Inwe?” it was the voices turn to mock. Rising to the challenge, the Drow replies, “If you know something more than that she slipped through your grasp like water and disappeared into the earth, then prey tell Dark Wolf.” Confidence returns in abundance, “She has travelled to the ancient source. We let her go.” “Did you now?” Inwe looks quizzical – was this a lie? She presses on, “Have you influenced her to close the old gate?” She stares, unblinking, into the orb. “That would be in our mutual interest would it not?” comes the reply. The acknowledgement of how difficult this must have been is shown on Inwe’s appreciative face. However her expression changes slowly as she considers the implications, “Provided the gate does not emerge somewhere else more troubling.” “I am not one of your acolytes, Inwe!” the voice rebukes her. She had clearly not thought this through, “I know the dark crafts as well as you.” “Of course; so long as this is in our mutual interest.” Inwe’s defence was weak; this was something she had clearly not known. The voice is quick to seize the advantage, “When you destroy the simpletons that try to wield the ancient powers, let me know; I would pay handsomely for their jewels.” Wrong footed momentarily, Inwe gathers herself, “Yes, so would many others.” Realising this might insult, she continues, “Let’s not be hasty; we can discuss terms once we have Caladhon.” “It would be most unwise of you to seek to align yourself with others; Tuar Chan was merely a puppet of a greater power…” no veil masked the menace in this threat. “Who you still serve, do you not Dark Wolf?” The question seemed genuine enough but it was designed to unbalance – another point scored. “I have no master save my own power of self-preservation;” comes the unguarded response rather weakly, “Something you need to learn quickly before you move to your Lady’s dreadful halls.” “Do you merely seek the artefacts Wolf, or is there something else you desire – freedom perhaps?” Inwe taunts happily. “Keep your thoughts to yourself Inwe - my desires are my own - there is nothing for you here.” The voice returns to its threatening tone. “Of course…You may lead my Army,” Inwe’s voice becomes serious and her expression shows the determination of one utterly resolved to a course of action, “but first I ask you to discover the bearers of the artefacts you relish. They are in the deepest halls of Ishtur and have knowledge of the ancient paths.” “That would be my pleasure my Lady, you occupy the Gnomes and I’ll find the thieves!”