Warnings: I own nothing but my OC'S and whatever I find. Yes this is in the correct section, yet I however do not know if the story of the fellowship will meet with those in this one. However it is based in the same world and I would respect the inventor of this amazing world by honoring him and writing this fan fiction. He is the man that made the gears grind. All credit goes to J.R.R. Tolkien. Warning for a lot of OC'S and writing about characters about whom is known very little...yet. Also mature scenes.(not smut nor slash.)
"What are you doing, Tjedde?"
"Be quiet. What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to listen in on the meeting."
"We will hear it when we'll hear it. I am leaving, if you're not wise enough to leave with me now, they'll never allow you to do the test to become a man and join these discussions."
With that sentence, the girl called Minke took off leaving Tjedde to his eavesdropping.
What he was doing was of vital importance. A mission worth risking getting caught by a man leaving the meeting after doing his say. That chance was rather small though, because as far as he had heard from his uncle in a drunken stupor and what he had heard through the door so far, this was a meeting that could change the future for everybody. Would they abandon the village in the hope of finding a safer land?
Inside the hall was a group of around forty men and women gathered around fire pits usually reserved for feasts of season and gatherings. In this town the gathering always went in two parts, first Jurryt the village teacher would speak. Then after thinking the oldest of the village would say their opinion. To do your say was to lay down by it for the rest of the discussion. You could talk and ask but to do your say was laying down the power of your word in judgement. Afterwards everybody could discuss and stand up to their say.
Normally only two elders would have to voice their say so early as most gatherings were rare and were to discuss hunting and fishing seasons. Going out to hunt when the animals had already fled for winter was one of them and the second being if the storm season was starting or not and for how long they could keep fishing.
Tjeerd was a man of many seasons, counting more winters then most in the building. His face was a worn one, beaten by many years of salty wind. His voice rumbled and croaked, but did not broke.
"My say is that we shall stay here. We came west here forty years ago because the - would not have us. To the east are they who would not have us. To the west are the men of Khand. I do not know why they stopped their raids but I am grateful for it. The North is barren. There is nowhere to run. The raids have becoming smaller. We stand here, as men."
"Then we stand as doomed men." Replied a man of equal age. "Would you just let us stand and die? I, Sikke say that we go we try to gain passage through - into the land east of it. If that is not a option then we must take our chances in the north. After the last raid only ten of our fighters are left alive. The rest of us are either not suited for combat or unfit through age. We must leave or the hordes of Haradwraith will trample us. The only reason the raids have become smaller is because we're not worth their effort for we are worn and diminished"
The doors opened and a man in blue robes with a staff walked in. "If you follow Sikke then you have made the wise choice. I used to be known amongst some of you as Pallando and I would like to help you to Hildorien, the land east of the water-empire of Fellien."