...even Rohan had a Montage... (Open RP)

[Allacan ob Burzum]

♫ ...Even Rohan had a Montage... ♪

A montage is a powerful tool for condensing long stories down and showing progress in a thematic and engaging manner, accelerating periods of development for narrative ease by essentially pressing the fast-forward button, slowing down every now and then for a quick glimpse at how things are coming along.

Perhaps the most common form of a montage is a sport training montage to develop a rookie fighter to a championship pro. However, a montage can also be used to bring together a complex series of plotting in preparation for a clever heist, to facilitate co-ordination and speed in an otherwise laborious and time-consuming activity such as research or crafting, to enable characters to travel long distances in a short period of time, to time-jump ahead and move the story towards its end goal, or sometimes even to re-wind and show preparation from a retrospective standpoint. All this and more can be achieved in a montage.

I also confess that after all the convergent, crossing timelines happening between multiple threads across the Kingdom this is also my personal attempt to get most of my own PCs appearing in a variety of Kingdom RP threads back to a single time-line, but this is by all means not an attempt to impose such a thing on other players and all are welcome to manage their own character continuity however they like.

So we don't end up with everyone becoming super-muscled heads of a secret intelligence agency with an army of circus-trained horses pulling an array of complex war machine who somehow transported the whole cavalcade across Middle-Earth without anyone noticing, I'm going to request we all try and honour some basic rules and tips:-

1) This RP thread is open to anyone from any Kingdom. Montage activities being relevant to Rohan or taking place within its borders might be preferable given the thread location, but this is not a requirement.
2) Please clarify at the beginning of each of your post which character you are playing, what their specific montage goal is, and number your posts (eg. "Allacan, learning to mud-wrestle, post 2").
3) One montage per player character please, but there is no limit to how many different characters each individual plaza member can develop here.
4) Ideally each character should post three separate RP posts of at least 400 characters (around four lines of text) showing various stages of progress and development for it to qualify as a 'montage'.
5) While the 'double-posting' rule no longer applies on NuPlaza in general, in this thread only please try and allow at least three RL days or one post from another player between your montage posts (to reflect the passage of time).
6) This thread should not be used to try and leap-frog training requirements in other threads, such as completing training for a kingdom army or achieving status in an organisation.
7) Feel free to post more than one character montage in a single post, but the tool [ hr ] (without the spaces) can be handy to separate out different characters.
8) This thread should ideally included 'character canon' role-play true to middle earth, but by all means if you want to go crazy and silly and attempt something completely bizarre and 'out there' then be my guest; I look forward to laughing, gasping and cheering you all on.
9) Please try and be respectful towards other thread-runners and kingdoms however; if an activity would be better suited in another thread designed for that purpose or would be more appropriate to post in a kingdom where the consequences might be relevant to the players gaming there, please consider gracing that thread/kingdom with your presence first.
10) Co-operation is encouraged, interruption or sabotage of another person's montage will be generally frowned upon. Feel free to indicate if you wish others to join in with your montage or if it is private/invite only.
11) Please seek player permission before godmoding their character.
12) Please see the second post for details of Rohan Kingdom Goals
13) Please include credit for any song or artwork you use.

A Short Disclaimer

The thread-runner takes no responsibility for the crazy and creative uses that players use this thread for, and will not be held liable for any subsequent fallout located outside this thread, nor do I impose that other threads/TRs must honour the development that takes place here. By all means post your montage development of cleverly training a killer-badger army in preparation for your invasion of Imladris, but I take no responsibility for how that all turns out for you.

Most montages have a song in the background; I myself will be including some references to Trey Parker song 'Montage' to stay on theme, but by all means feel free to include lyrics or video links to your very own montage theme tune, or just sing along to yourself at home if you prefer (please note point 13 above if you include reference to specific songs in your posts).

So without further ado...

The music strikes up and all across Rohan a variety of unique individuals realise the hard task ahead of them. Their faces become set with determination and focus, and the scene cuts and fades as the music swells...

[Allacan ob Burzum]

The hour's approaching, to give it your best ♫
♪ And you've got to reach your prime.
That’s when you need to put yourself to the test ♪
And show us a passage of time.
♫ We're going to need a montage (montage)
Ooh it takes a montage (montage)... ♪

Rohan Kingdom Goals

There are various Rohan Kingdom Goals open for anyone to engage in, and anyone posting to contribute towards these will gain the gratitude of the Thread-Runner and can reward themselves with the warm fuzzy feeling of knowing they are helping rebuild Rohan after recent *cough* inflammatory *cough* incidents; these kingdom goals and their progress will be tracked in the second post.

Feel free to make requests of Kingdom Goals either here or in the Golden Hall OOC thread (for the sake of diplomacy, I am going to limit these to Rohirric Kingdom goals only, although of course there is nothing to stop other Kingdoms stealing this thread idea to facilitate a refurbishment of Khazad-Dum's halls or building an extension on Woodhall).

The current kingdom goals include:-
- Temporary re-homing of the residents of Auld Town made homeless by both the fires and the hasty de-construction efforts that created the fire-break, and donations to replace their lost belongings
- Salvage efforts in Auld Town and rebuilding of the Residential District damaged by the fires
- Rebuilding of the cavalry Æthelmund pub destroyed in the fires
- Repairing the fire damage to the cavalry Dragon Room roof*
- The shoring up/filling in of the old tunnel between the old Æthelmund pub and the Dragon Room Larmeagister's office*
*for current cavalry members as their cavalry characters only. If you are not cavalry but wish to help with these tasks, please request permission from the Marshals in the Command Tent - Cavalry OOC thread before posting

Completed Personal Montages

In a bout of enthusiastic optimism I am also going to attempt to keep track of what each PC has achieved as and when they complete their montage, but I make no promises I will be organised enough to keep on top of this (feel free to tag me in your final montage post or poke me with an @mention if I look like I have missed something).

Completed PC Montages:-
-
-

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Arod (horse, he/him)
Whipping the new cavalry horses into shape (Post 1)

It was a bright sunny day over the autumn fields of Rohan. Many of the cavalry horses had been put out to pasture while works were being undertaken to rebuild and repair the cavalry buildings damaged in the recent fires. Many of the new horses and proud equines in their prime, arrogantly confident, intended to treat this as an opportunity to graze, frolic and relax and were already chattering enthusiastically about what to do with this unexpected downtime.

But one horse - a legendary, veteran - was less than impressed.

Even as they milled about introducing themselves with muzzles and snorts, an old gray stallion stepped out from where he had been hidden between two trees and regarded them critically. His broad chest was no less muscled now than it had been when he first galloped beside the Mearas Shadowfax. His name and tail had lost none of its bright sheen that had been tousled by the winds through the paths of the dead, and his body was marked with countless minor blemishes and battle-scars from the Battle of the Pelennor Fields and the assault on the Black Gate. He was a living legend among horses, and as the collection of newly enlisted cavalry mounts noticed and recognised him they grew quiet and still, and a little self-conscious beneath his disapproving gaze.

“Think you are cavalry horses? Pah!” He snorted and turned away from them dismissively.

“But we are cavalry horses” a young palomino mare declared in disagreement as she went to follow after him.

The white horse rounded so quickly she was caught off guard, shouldering her with such force that she dropped back into her rump with a surprised grunt, shocked into silence. The white stallion shook its head in disappointment. “If you aren’t even able to keep your feet in a field of only horses, how can you ever hope to survive a cavalry charge?” he said derisively as he scanned the group of horses and judged them all inadequate. “You’ve all barely finished suckling your dam’s teats; you probably haven’t even been in a fight, let alone fought in a war. You’re all too green.”

A young chestnut took a pace forwards before the white stallion could turn away again, and said quietly and with an air of respect. “Then teach us.”

A glimmer of amusement flashed in the white stallion’s eye, and he flicked his ears as he considered this. “Please” added the chestnut, and the other gathered horses echoed his request. He gave them a keen, unmerciful look that clearly implied he would not be gentle or mollycoddle them, and in response the equine recruits lifted their heads and puffed out their chest proudly. Eventually, the white destrier nodded, then stamped a hoof authoritatively and declared loudly in a commanding voice.

“You will assemble swiftly and silently every morning. Anyone who acts otherwise will answer to me.” And he kicked out at one of the nearby young trees, which splintered in two with a resounding crack at the force of his hooves.

A beautiful mare, with a rare roan coloration that looked almost blue, “Ooh, tough guy.” she said under her breath, rolling her eyes at the horse beside her.

He rounded on the mare “Thank you for volunteering...” he said, as he carefully lifted an apple from a hidden bucket of apples and placed it on the shoulder high broken tree stump without breaking its skin. “This” he said, referring to the apple “...represents discipline”. He repeated the whole process with the next tree stump along and a second apple “...and this represents strength. You need both to be a true destrier of Rohan.”

He walked a short distance away from the two apples stood on the two posts, the suddenly circled to charge between them at a full gallop, his teeth flashing as he passed each of them respectively to take a bite from each apple without displacing either from its position balanced tenuously on the stumps. As he came to a stop he tossed his mane and spat out his half-chewed mouthful of apple, then turned back to the blue roan mare who had spoken out earlier. “Now you do it” he challenged her.

“I’ll mark those apples, pretty boy, and I’ll do it without spitting.” She said proudly, head held high, mane and tail streaming as she haughtily have herself a run up.

Crunch, crash, splat. Two half-chewed apples went spinning, one coming to rest against the white stallion’s fore-hoof as he shook his head at the sight of the mare sitting rump deep in the mud, stunned from accidentally head butting the post in her haste to get to the second apple. As each of the other new recruits made their enthusiastic but equally terrible attempts at the challenge he rolls his up to the sky, taking a long, deep breath. “We’ve got a long way to go.” he says to himself even as distant drumbeats of the morning parade starts rapping out a hasty beat from somewhere within Edoras.

♪ “Let’s get down to business, to be de-striers
Are you here for battle, or for pretty mares?
You're the saddest bunch I ever met
But you can bet before we're through
Horsie, I'll make a steed out of you...” ♫

[Fuin Elda]

Fuin - You're a Sweet one, Miss Nando
Post 1

Word reached the Valley of Imladris that Rohan had suffered from a fire and the Forge Mistress reacted swiftly. The wagon for the Tingdain market was loaded up swift with supplies to help rebuild the homes of the town that had been damaged.

Hammers, saws, axes, shovels, pitchforks, she even brought spare leathers that were ready to be made into items all things that would have been lost in a fire and would need to be replaced in order to speed work people would need as well as a good many nails, she had the entire Tingdain pulling nails for a days and there were two great big sacks of them, as well as a bunch of smaller sacks so that people could take them to where they needed easily enough to help rebuild the homes themselves as Rohan built with wood. She also brought gifts, small clock work toys for displaced children, cloaks of all different sizes, warm furs and several large bolts of fabric in greens as well as sweet elven breads, and dried fruits.

When she arrived there was still plenty to do and there was a good number of people looking at her strangely, after all it wasn't very common for elves to wander into Rohan from the West on a heavily laden cart. The first thing she did was stop at the smiths of Rohan to let them know what she had brought so that they could concentrate on other items or at least free up a few smiths to make other items that she had not brought as she was not terribly well versed in the style of smith work the Rohan used for decorations and she knew that they were not always a fan of elvish sort of designs for their home decor. She drove the wagon through Auld taking a look at all the things that looked like they would be needed and it brought the attention of the children which she was just fine with, they followed her all the way to where she ended up setting up her cart as a camp. The children were shy at first were the adults were distrustful as well, but the children being children were curious enough that soon many of them were squealing in delight as they got small clock work horses and rabbits and dogs that moved and 'walked' as well as little bundles of breads and fruits to take home to their parents and perhaps get the less curious adults to come and visit her.

[Allacan ob Burzum]

Arod (horse, he/him)
Whipping the new cavalry horses into shape (Post 2)

"Find the flow of life within you, feel your inner rhythm, the centre of your being. Let grace and strength reach a balance inside you, then express this as you move" he said as he moved swiftly forward with his eyes closed serenely, the pile of hay placed on his back where a saddle would rest undisturbed by his graceful pace. The line of trainees watched him curiously, then eagerly but somewhat clumsily attempted the challenge for themselves. There was a flurry of grass and straw from their backs as each tiny pile was swiftly jolted from its precarious positioning. "Grace. Dexterity. Tranquillity. Become the arrow that glides through the air, let the wind carry you..." he said as he paused and looked back, only to grimace at the sight of the line of plodding, hopping, huffing line. He rolled his eyes as two of the more competitive horses, a majestic dark bay with an almost white coloured mane and tail and an over-eager beautiful palomino mare, stepped quickly out against each other as though trying to race. Just as they drew near to him the bay glanced up and spotted his disapproving glare, and the tall horse''s quick pace missed a beat. The distracted cream-maned mare however was oblivious to the reasoning for his hesitance and pushed forward as though to claim her victory while tossing her mane proudly at the bay as he dropped back... only to fall head over heels as Arod put a fore-hoof out to trip her. From her tumbled position on the floor she looked up at the old veteran, cringing in embarrassment as he shook his head and turned away in disgust to re-iterate the lesson to his pupils.

♪ “Tranquil as a forest, but on fire within
Once you find your centre, you are sure to win
You're a spineless, pale, pathetic lot, and you haven't got a clue
Somehow I'll make a steed out of you..." ♫

"Synchronicity is essential in a cavalry charge" Arod said loudly as he walked at front and centre of a carefully formed three by three rank of trainees, the horse to his immediate right - an intelligent beast with a strange patch-marking over its ears and the top of his head that almost made it look like someone had turned him upside down and dipped him in brown paint - called out paces quietly. "You need to be ready to change your position and formation at a moment's notice." He stepped calmly, ignoring the mutters and jostling behind him as each horse struggled to keep the spacing he had ordered them to hold as they walked. "The cavalry may be broken down into werods, corðors and Éored's, but it must move as one." He said, turning his group in a slow right wheel even as the horses beside him slowing nervously at the sight of the second clump of pacing horses nearing them on the left, led by another old veteran who had volunteered to help with this particular activity, stepping on a mirrored left wheel that was set merge with their course. "Feel the pacing of your comrades, share their instinct and intuition; seek the path between their auras that you can come together as one."

"First you discover this togetherness at a walk, and if you can align your spirits together you will be able to react fluidly at a canter like water meeting in a stream, swift and mysterious." He declared confidently as the two corners of the walking squares finally reached each other and then started to overlap and weave together. For a moment, they were managing to shift through the gaps, squeezing past each other, mostly due to the experienced, central lead horses in the front rank guiding the path and the sheer luck of improvisation. But those following in the ranks behind had gotten too close together in their ranks, and as the quiet counting continued unerringly there were grunts and huffs, then exclamations and protestations, and by the time Arod and the other veteran had reached a position side-by-side and called the halt, the convergence of the two groups was less the seamlessly co-ordinated manoeuvre intended and looked more like two stampedes had collided and piled up atop each other. The other veteran (who may or may not have had a name reminiscent of a tempest) looked doubtfully at Arod even as the still-counting medicine-hat horse had its calls muffled when the beautiful blue roan shifted her buttocks unceremoniously into his face and she tried to carefully extricate herself from the crowded mess.

There was the faintest echo of laughter from close by, although it sounded somehow to have also come from a great distance away. An audience had gathering for the exercises, but it was not your usual crowd. Legendary horses that had once served as mounts to First Marshals of the past had felt the call of the momentous occasion from even beyond the grave, and their ethereal forms were watching from behind the fence, almost invisible in the bright sunlight. They watched as Arod shouted at the mess of horses until they had at last extricated themselves and reformed into neat ranks, then ordered three of the heaviest horses to all simultaneously lean their weight again one of the fence-posts, forcing it to bend creaking and groaning, until it was pointed at a harsh angle in towards the field.

"Ooh, he's going to make them do the old faux-pike test, this should be fun!" declared Beaducyrm eagerly.

"Aren't they a little green for that one?" queried Snowmane, to which Sarlic responded with the snorted reply "Better to learn which of them will shy from pointed spears, sooner rather than later."

"The cavalry charge's greatest enemy is the pike-wall, and too many great destriers have fallen to these spikes of death" Arod continued on, oblivious to the spectral audience that had gathered to observe. "When you face such an obstacle your fate - and that of your rider - will depend entirely on your courage. You must face this foe without hesitation or doubt, as certain in your course as a storm, as brave as a wildfire. You will never know if you can clear the jump, so you must let your faith carry you." He said as he stepped a distance away, and then turned to the energetic young palomino mare who he had caught misbehaving earlier with a challenging look. She raised her head and tossed her mane proudly, then took a wide line to give herself a good run-up on the leaning fence, determined to change his opinion of her.

Beaducyrm, seeing an opportunity for mischief, giggled to his fellow spectators and said "Watch this!" before creeping away towards the leaning fence. He knew this mare, or more specifically, he knew her new owner, and he had already judged the palomino unworthy of being a mount for such a notable warrioress of the Mark, although he was likely exceedingly biased in his opinion given that particular warrioress had once been -his- rider.

As the palomino cantered in on the approach to the skewed jump, the perspective of the fence-panels angle played tricks with her mind; it seemed to loom aggressively towards her, the blunt ends of its support posts seemingly transformed into the sharp spikes of enemy spears, and as she neared it doubt and fear began to creep into her mind as she realised the height and the distance she would need to clear the obstacle. But she pursed her lips, determined to prove her worth, her eyes narrowing on the top of the fence panel where she saw... a spectral horse head goggling at her!

She neighed out in terror and dug in her fore-feet at the ridiculous sight of the lollygagging Beaducyrm, pulling up short before the jump and backing away hurriedly. A second later, and the vision had disappeared, although she thought she could hear at the edges of her auditory perception to laughter of horses sounding a long distance away, shortly after echoed by the sounds of subdued giggles and snorts sounding from behind her. She turned, ashamed, to witness the whole gathering of cavalry horses barely suppressing their laughter, and Arod's head shaking in disappointment once again. Then he rounded on the others aggressively, and the whole group jumped in fear as he barked. "Next!"

Arod hounded them for the rest of the day, then the next, and the next. He put all of them through their paces, making each repeat the four different exercises - apple-bite-run, straw-carry-canter, wheel-merge-manouevre and leaning-gatepost-jump - until they were sweating and heaving for breath, and then he continued to push them. Each day as the sun rose and the spectral audience gathered, growing more abundant with each dawn, the new equine recruits would find themselves mustered for the day's exercises, their muscles still aching from the prior day's exertions, and they would drill and train and practice beneath the diligent Arod's stern orders until the sun was setting and the night crept in.

(A golden-coated, dark-maned youngster gasped)
♪ "I'm never going to catch my breath" ♫
(The medicine-hat horse declared)
♫ "Tell the Marshal not to mourn me" ♪
(A prone chestnut, who would rather be pushing people over and standing on their clothes, grunted)
♪ "Boy, was I a fool to slack off as a colt" ♫
(The spectral Snowmane commented)
♫ "Arod's got 'em scared to death" ♪
(A delighted ghost-horse Beaducyrm)
♪ "Everyone can see right through me" ♫
(The blue roan lamented piteously)
♫ "Now I really wish that I knew how to tölt" ♪

(Arod's voice cried out again and the trainees echoed his chant)
(Be a steed)
♪ "We must be swift as a coursing river ♫
(Be a steed)
♫ With all the force of a great typhoon ♪
(Be a steed)
♪ With all the strength of a raging fire ♫
♫ Mysterious as the dark side of the mooooon" ♪

[Fuin Elda]

Fuin - You're a Sweet one, Miss Nando
Post 2

One parent came bringing the toy back after all they did not have anything to give for the toy which ended up in the parent being sent home with the toy and a sack of nails and a hammer and axe and a cloak and a flustered look upon their face. The first was all that was needed and then there was an out pouring of Rohirrim coming for items to help build their homes and new cloaks and items they would need. By the end she was standing on her cart tossing small sacks of nails (carefully) and bundles of cloaks and other such items all about her.

Soon the cart was empty aside from a few sacks and a a few crumbs of food for her to make it back to Imladris as long as she stopped and hunted and gathered a bit of food. Indeed it was said that her heart grew three sizes that day as she gave out all the goods.

[Lail]

Lailyn
Searching for that last bilewitdox ingredient (which totally counts as a kingdom goal, right?)
Post 1

Dawn was breaking when Lailyn sunk into Simbelfarendeu’s saddle. The chestnut mare set into a gentle trot through the quiet city streets with renewed vigor, the injured leg forgotten and fully healed. Wherever it was possible, she steered the horse along side streets and away from the main thoroughfares. It was not that she did not want to be seen exactly, but she also did not want to run across anyone she knew.

The purpose of her early morning errand was twofold and she wasn’t sure she could properly explain one of them. She had hidden her bow and quiver of arrows as best she could among her horse’s tack but any with a keen eye would be able to spy the weapon. More than one person had made it clear to her lately the folly of being caught unarmed. To do so in the city was one thing, to do it outside another.

The city faded away in the distance behind her and Lailyn set her steed into a faster pace though she did not push her mare too far. Across the wide green plain they passed, both horse and rider enjoying the feel of the wind bursting through them despite its cold bite.

It wasn’t long before they reached a copse of trees whose leaves were only just barely turning gold and red. Lailyn dismounted and wove among the trees in search of a particular type. After she found a sea of white bark, a stand of healthy and vibrant birch trees, she gathered her supplies and set to work drawing sap from their veins.

[Lail]

Lailyn
Searching for the last bilewitdox ingredient, Post 2

Lailyn tapped a tree, then another, making her way around the copse and leaving behind a series of small boreholes in the pale bark. Drip by drip, thick sap clung to the sides of the clay jars, seeping down at a painful pace like trying to watch a seedling grow into a tree. The silence surrounded her out here, alone. The slow task of collecting sap afforded her no distraction from the thoughts that circled around and around her mind in a relentless storm. The sun climbed through the sky and reached its peak by the time the jars were filled and nestled in among each other in her saddlebags. With that done, there was no more putting off her other task. One she dreaded but had to be done.

The first time she held her weapons again back at her house had proven that she hadn’t outgrown her fears at all.It still induced panic, still made her vision darken and spark around the edges, still made her feel like she was spiraling somewhere into darkness as she relived the memories of blood and death. She could almost hear the indecipherable cries of the Wainriders again, their spears and arrows raining death and the terrifying need to keep fighting to stay alive. Avoiding the issue all these years had not done her any favours.

As if sensing her discomfort, Simbelfarendeu tossed her head. Lailyn rubbed the mare’s neck affectionately. “It’s all right, Fairmane,” she said using the mare’s nickname. “I can do this. I have to do this.” The words were aimed more at herself than the horse.

Holding her breath, she reached out and picked up the bow. As her hand curled around the yew-wood, an unpleasant shiver ran down her spine. She slid her fingers down the worn string that hung loose and recalled the tension of pulling back the weight, holding the arrow close before letting it fly. How practiced and routine it had become. The bow had once been like an extension of herself. A single touch and she could take life without a second thought. That was what it took to survive. To protect the people behind the lines, the ones who had no idea what danger awaited should the cavalry fail. That was just how it should be.

After finding a clearing with enough space and ensuring she was truly alone, she strung the bow and plucked an arrow from her quiver. She drew in a slow, steadying breath before she fit the arrow, pulled back and released it in a single fluid motion. Her hands trembled. The arrow pierced the grass a few paces from the old decaying tree she’d aimed for. No Paethfindian would be proud of that shot. Fortunately, it didn’t matter to her how good her aim was, only that she had managed to do it.

If the Cavalry Liaison Office wanted her armed, she had no choice but to move past this. Even if she hadn’t agreed to help them, she wanted to prove to herself she could do this. It didn’t happen in a single day or even many. With patience and persistence she didn’t know she had, she returned to the glade again and again whenever she could spare the time. Slowly, it became a little easier every time she held her dagger or drew back the bowstring. Lailyn would never be a shieldmaiden again but all the same, she would not allow herself to succumb to fear.