The ravine opens at last into a wider stream-bed, black water sliding over smooth stones. Mist hangs low, and the Hooded Sentry steps into it as if they belong there.
They halt before Tuiwen and lift both hands to the cowl. The pause is deliberate, almost ceremonial.
Saruman
You have come far enough. Look now, and know who has guided you.
The hood falls back. Beneath it is the face of a high-ranking member of the White Council, pale and grave, marred by a dull, dark thralldom at the throat.
Tuiwen
A member of the White Council.
The stream seems to hush around the revelation. Radagast stares, Eldred goes rigid, and the hidden betrayal behind every warning suddenly has a face.
Radagast the Brown
By the roots... no wonder the trail bent so cleanly.
Saruman
The Council is not whole, and never was. Choose, Tuiwen, or be chosen for.
“In the Third Age, the White Council had five members: Saruman, Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond and Círdan. Which one is she looking at? (I assume she knows them all.)”
SUCCESS (Good Lore, rolled +2)
Tuiwen
Galadriel's mirror? No. This face is older in the Council, and closer to the dark.
Saruman
Yes. Saruman, fallen into proud silence and shadowed counsel. Your eyes are not wrong.
The admission lands like cold iron. Radagast's grip tightens on his staff, and Eldred shifts as if bracing for a blade that never comes.
Radagast the Brown
Saruman... then the White Council itself has been split open.
Mist curls around Saruman's throat-mark, and the black water at Tuiwen's boots trembles with a low, hidden stir from below the stones.
Saruman
Choose now. Walk with me and live, or refuse and carry your message alone into the dark.
Eldred steps closer, bow half-raised, while Radagast watches Tuiwen, waiting for her answer as the streambed narrows behind them.
“"If I follow you, I will be a traitor like yourself!"”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +3)
Tuiwen
If I follow you, I become a traitor too.
The words strike cleanly. Saruman does not move, but the cold in the stream seems to deepen around his boots. Radagast’s face hardens with sorrow, and Eldred lowers his bow a hand’s breadth, as if a verdict has finally been spoken.
Saruman
Then do not follow me. Refuse, and you choose a harder road. That much, at least, is still yours.
Radagast the Brown
She chooses true enough for me. The Council’s wound is not her burden to excuse.
Eldred
Good. Then we stand where we are, and we name the lie for what it is.
Saruman’s gaze flicks once to Tuiwen’s blade, then to the black water, where a pale thread of light trembles under the surface. It is a hidden way, half-revealed by the stream’s pulse, and it opens downstream into the mist.
Saruman
Walk away with your message intact, Tuiwen. The path ahead is not as empty as it seems.
“"I have already given you my message. Farewell."”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +0)
Tuiwen lowers her blade and turns from Saruman without haste. The stream hushes around her boots, and the pale thread under the water keeps shining as if it knows the way she chooses.
Tuiwen
I have already given you my message. Farewell.
She steps off the stone bar and into the misted shallows. The movement is small, but it cuts the moment cleanly in two.
Saruman
So be it. She leaves as one who still has a path, and that is not nothing.
Radagast the Brown
Go, then, and keep your heart steady. Some roads are truer for being walked alone.
Eldred
I see you, Tuiwen. The lie does not follow where you are going.
Behind her, Saruman remains on the slick stone, a cold figure in the mist. Ahead, the faint light beneath the water draws downstream, and Tuiwen leaves the fallen council and its sorrow at her back.
“She proceeds to Rhosgobel. She will need to rest before reporting to her father.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Agility, rolled +1)