Swan Wood - RPG

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Welcome To Taralphiel's Swan Wood!

The sea was dark, and looked like a thin sheet of glass reflecting the sickle moon. Only a gentle breeze stirred the curtains. The trees still gave the sweet smell of summer through the open house, but it also brought the smell of evil.

In her chair the old woman sat. Her eyes stared from sea to plain, watching the rivers flow. The winds moved through her silver hair. She stood, and the trees seemed to groan and strain as she came towards them. Her eyes were a deep green, and they searched the forests. At her side was a long sword that glittered in the darkness, banished only by a few lanterns.

Slowly a figure approached the old woman and bent low. The old woman smiled

'Laurel, I have missed you so!'

The figure removed her hood to show the same startling green eyes. Her long brown hair flew softly as she ran forward and embraced her grandmother. Stepping back her smile faded

'We could not outwit them grandmother. Havlor tried to ambush them in the Southern confines of the forest but was wounded in the shoulder. The townspeople are tending to him but...' she lowered her head.

Taralphiel looked with sympathy on Laurel, and tears came to her eyes. A chill wind blew through the trees and disturbed the still ocean far below. Taralphiel walked out of the house to the edge of a cliff, with the ocean at the bottom now awoken and beating against the rock.

'Havlor is my age, and he is one of the only warriors we have left, aside from you, my granddaughter. I do not know what they are, but they take this forest. It will mean great death and pain if they do my child I do not know where they came from, or what they are. I have studied all the works of men, but I must be able to see them myself!.'

At this Laurel spoke ‘I will not let you out there grandmother. You cannot fight! You have not the strength. I know here you are safe! Do not attempt it!’

Taralphiel strained ‘You do not know my full strength! So long you protect me! I can still wield a sword!!’ at that she lifted her blade and it shone. Laurel cried out in protest ‘Do not carry that blade around grandmother! It is not safe!’

‘Little is safe here’

She turned back to her granddaughter, who was leaning on a chair. She walked forward and put her hand on her shoulder 'I must ask you to do a great deed for me child. I have avoided this for many years, and it has turned against me. I did not wish that to happen, and it has brought so much death. I fear our craft cannot prevail against this force. From what you tell me they now attack in great number, covering more ground. They have studied our ways and can predict us. They are gaining more of the forest. This cannot happen! You know this, as do the villagers. They will slaughter them all if we fail, and then they will fell this forest and the grace in it will leave this world, which is a great tragedy.'

Taralphiel straightened 'I will do it grandmother, name the task, and I will complete it!'

‘You are brave, Laurel, very brave. And I thank thee for it. Your father and mother are to be thanked for that too… But this is not the time for that. This is your task. You must go out of this forest and town, out of this land. We must find help. I would much rather do it on my own, but my old bones do not will it' Taralphiel sighed. Her gaze became grave and set

'You must travel to Calembel. I have sent word to each of the free peoples I have had associations with. Rohan, Gondor, and the remaining in Mirkwood. You must bring them back here. I will not surrender this forest! Not while I live!'

'Nor will I!' said Laurel 'I will go'

Then Laurel paused

‘Grandmother, I see that the Free Peoples can help us, but few know of Alphirion. We are a place unknown. Who will help?’

‘The Rohirrim swore an oath to Eriador to help me and my children. They also swore to tell none of the forest of the Swans. Some of the town of Calembel now are nobility in Gondor. They too, remember my deeds. They will not cower form evil Laurel. And as for the Elves, they remember me in my youth as it were but a season ago. They will know the truth. They know what is in my forest and will aid us. If there are any of their fair folk left. For I fear that the boats from the Grey Havens are all but set out to the Undying Lands, the Blessed Realms of lore to our people. That was their fate. I can only imagine ours’ Taralphiel trailed off, and then looked back up

‘Do you understand my child? You must ride to Calembel at dawn tomorrow. The journey will be a few days, but when you arrive they will be there. Hold council if you will and come back as fast as you can. For then our forest will be unguarded. Then there will be forces to drive this evil out.’

That night Laurel rested in the open house of the Swan Lady Taralphiel. The next day she would set out on a journey that would be as great as her grandmothers and was of greater need than any in her mind. She was still reluctant. She did not want to leave the forest unattended, for the danger that would come. But no-one else knew where Calembel was, nor had the skill to get there. But if she did succeed, these people would help her, and that gave her strength. She would succeed; she would bring back her Allies to drive the last Dark Forces out of her grandmothers’ realm. With that resolve set, Laurel closed her eyes, falling asleep to the sounds of the Sea and distant song of the Trees.

Laurel rode over the Plains, the wind beating at her face, stinging her eyes. Ahead was her goal, Calembel. She had ridden for three days, seldom stopping to allow and to approach her. A strange sight she must have seemed, a loan armed shieldmaiden in this time of peace. But not in all places was there peace. Calembel soon appeared. The small town of quaint builings was long left. Its walls were crumbling and grass and moss clung to fixtures once proud. Entering the town centre, she saw a group awaiting. She dismounted her horse and spoke

‘I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?’

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn Stone’s footsteps could hardly be heard on the long-left roads of Calembel. Walking through the deserted town was certainly strange, but Jess was used to strange occurrences. Arriving through the south gate, Jess had traveled from her home in Tarnost. An awkward site she must have been, clad in black in a shade matching her wild, short hair and hazy grey eyes searching the old town.

Tall moss-covered buildings lined the roads, and it seemed to Jess that the people of Calembel left in a hurry. Pots and tarps still filled and covered shops and doors of homes were flung open. Jess’s eyes darted to and fro examining each house and shop as her brothers had taught her. Maybe she wouldn’t be here if one of her brothers were not serving Gondor. Adventure was one thing, but upholding the family honour was another, much more important reason for being in Calembel. Of course Jess wanted to rid her home forest of raiders and rogues.

Reaching the center of the town, she saw a few other Humans and Elves, gathered around a large fountain that had long been dry of water. Jess remained silent, and showed no emotion on her face.

Riding up on a horse came a woman with long brown hair and striking green eyes. After a quick glance at the group that had gathered, the woman dismounted and spoke to the people in a grand, proud voice.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?”

None of the others spoke first, so Jess took a step forward from her place and bowed gallantly. Smiling and withdrawing her sword, Jesslyn Stone’s eyes looked over the taller, green-clad human.

“I am Jesslyn Stone. I hail from the town of Tarnost, just south of here. I offer my sword to any attempt to rid Dor-En-Ernil of raiders and such barbarians. Long has my family and village stood by, not knowing what to do, and now that we gather here to destroy the force that threatens us, we know what we must do. We must defend our land and people. Not many of us residents of the forest have gone without losing a family member to the raiders, and I am here to avenge their deaths and prevent more.” Jesslyn lifted her chin proudly, and sheathed her sword.

~*~

The white stallion carrying Cartil Stone trotted along the street of Calembel. After having ridden south from Minas Tirith, Cartil traveled west to reach the empty town. He even visited his hometown of Tarnost along the way. His younger sister was not there, but he promised himself that he would visit his favorite sibling when all was done with the raiders.

Going through the south entrance into the town, Cartil felt chilled to the bone as he looked about the place. A slight wind whipped at Cartil’s cloak, and his hazel eyes were filled with great anticipation as he neared the center of Calembel. When he turned a corner, Cartil came into view of a great fountain, though no water fell from the great stone statues that stood from the center of the fountain basin. There were a few others grouped about the fountain.

A woman shot through the quiet scene on her horse, and when she reached the grouping, she dismounted and began to speak.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?” Her loud voice echoed and bounced about the crumbling buildings.

Then, a younger woman strode forward and began to speak. That voice sounds so familiar... Cartil thought. Turning so that he could see the girl past the others who had come to Calembel, he almost fell off his stationary horse. It was Jess! His sister spoke now the brown haired horse-woman.

“Jess!” was all Cartil managed to cry out as he leapt off his horse and led it to the company that surrounded the fountain. Jess turned to face whoever had called her name, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. She ran from her spot and when she was close enough the Cartil she jumped up and hugged her brother.

“What are you doing here?” Cartil asked, though his voice was muffled as Jess had her hands tightly wound about his neck. Only when she finally detangled her arms from his neck did she answer his question, -

“I’m here to help get the forest back! What are you doing here?” Jess interrogated after she answered. But Cartil noticed all the others of the group staring at the two, and he hushed his sister and continued over to the company.

“Forgive me! I have not introduced myself! I am Cartil Stone; I come here as a representative of the King Elessar and his Reunited Kingdom, especially Minas Tirith. I bring greetings and well wishes from the King,” Cartil spoke in a stately voice and withdrew a parchment from his cloak pocket. It was elegantly rolled and tied with string.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion,” The woman began again, and Cartil handed her the parchment.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Ransom]

To Sir Thagon Kestner and Leena Midthun:

Greetings and may the blessings of Namo and Nienna be upon you. A matter of some importance has come up concerning an enclave in the Swan Wood in Dor-En-Ernil. A band of raiders have been slaughtering the inhabitants, and word of their plight has reached the ears of King Elessar. The matriarch of the enclave has requested aid from Gondor.

You will proceed to the assembly point in the central square of the abandoned town of Calembel. So far, we have not been able to determine the identity of these raiders. Aid the group in their quest with the normal restrictions. Only make formal contact with the Hosts in case of a dire emergency. Travel as a knight of the Order and show the King’s subjects his fist.

Valar bless,
Lord Ecthal, Chapter Master of the Order of the Black Rose
Minas Anor

***
Leena Midthun cursed long and loudly as she ran her favorite ivory comb through tangled black hair. She was a city girl, and a week of tramping around the countryside did not agree with her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the bedroll she had used in her teenage years no longer fit her six foot two inch frame. Her normally pretty face was marred by a deep scowl, and her steel gray eyes blazed as if she had received some mortal insult. Finally satisfied with her appearances, the Gondorian woman took a few deep breaths. On a whole, the priestesses of Nienna were fairly calm and soft spoken, and an ill-timed curse would not help her public image.

She idly smoothed a few wrinkles out of the simple gray dress she wore. It had an annoying tendency to get caught underfoot in a fight, but more than one man had earned a sound beating after mistaking her for easy pickings. The suit of chain mail she had hidden under her cloathing clinked softly as she attached the sheath of her Schlaeger to her belt. Leena had received the weapon from her godmother after her first mission for the Order, and she had valued it every since. She gripped the hilt, the embrace of the heavy iron basket on the pommel somewhat comforting. It made a slight rasping sound as it slid out of its sheath. Outwardly, the weapon resembled the fencing foils so popular with young nobles. In truth, the steel blade was just as deadly as the bastard sword her friend used.

After taking a few experimental swings with the weapon, Leena gracefully returned it to her sheath before glancing around the campsite. Their cooking gear and tent were safely packed on the back of their pack horse, and the fire pit had been filled in. Cheery rays of light began to peel back the last vestiges of night as the sun began to rise. In an action that seemed completely out of character, Leena turned toward the still dark western horizon and began to sing in a soft voice. The ancient hymn had no words, but the sad melody reminded those who listened about the Weeping Goddess.

Sir Thagon Kestner bowed his head and muttered a silent prayer before turning his attention back to his equipment. One of the first lessons members of the Order of the Black Rose learned was to reserve a special time during the day for devotions. While he performed devotions first thing after waking up, Leena had always been partial to the sunrise. The knight’s six foot four inch body, built somewhat like a small bear, began to cast a long shadow in the new sunlight. Turgon idly pulled his black hair into a rough ponytail before placing his helm on his head. This helm, while made of fine black steel, was crafted in the same design as the mirthil helms of the Citadel Watch, had saved his life more than once.

The knights of the Order of the Black Rose had long ago dismissed plate armor as too clumsy and too heavy for extended field use. Instead, the servants of Gondor wore a collection of chain mail and steel plates often referred to as partial plate armor. Thagon’s chain mail hauberk hung halfway down to his knees, allowing him enough freedom of movement to quickly mount a horse. A pair of black steel greaves were strapped over his boots, reaching from his ankle to his knees. His large hands were enclosed in black steel gauntlets, and a pair of black bracers extending from his wrist to his elbows protected his forearms. The breastplate, like every other piece of steel on his body, was black. While mostly unadorned, the insignia of the White Tower on a white shield that marked him as a member of the elite Citadel Watch was clearly engraved in the middle of the black steel plate.

While Thagon was a firm believer that practicality was beauty, he had allowed himself a small indulgence today. A dark red cape with a large black rose embroidered in the center fell from a pair of silver clasps on his shoulder, silently moving in the morning breeze. The back scabbard that normally housed his bastard sword was protruded from behind the cape at the hip and the right shoulder, though it was empty at the moment. The blade of the knight’s bastard sword was four feet six inches of razor sharp steel. While the hilt and crosspiece was rather simple, his proud parents had paid a local silversmith to guild their son’s sword, a gesture of kindness that their son would not soon forget. After critically examining the edges of the sword once more, he strapped a shield with the crest of the Order to his left hand. With a grace born of years of practice, he pulled himself onto Garion, his brown warhorse’s back.

Leena, having just completed her morning meditation, quickly mounted her white palfrey and cast a mocking look at her friend. “Well, my dear knight and protector, lead the way. You smell like a rusty iron kettle, so don’t look too surprised if I try to stay upwind of you.

***

Thagon gently patted the nose of white palfrey that Leena rode. Unlike its mistress, it was a gentle beast and not given to the prancing and dancing of its younger relatives. Despite her dress, the task of searching for a possible ambush had fallen on Leena, and Thagon would have to find some way to pass the time until she returned. The knight double-checked the knots securing the three hourses to a nearby tree before wandering into the ruins of a stone house on the outskirts of town. His right hand scrapped against a wall, its metal covering tearing out a good-sized piece of moss. Despite the years of ruin, some black soot (or was it soil?) remained on the stones. Frowning, Thagon pondered on how the village had been abandoned. Had the village been raided by orcs during the War of the Ring? Did a band of bandits fall on the town before being captured by the Hosts? Or had commerce simply died out?

Dropping the clump of moss with a sudden revulsion, the knight turned and briskly walked back to Garion. The warhorse barely paid any heed to his master as Thagon dug through one of the saddlebags on the campaign saddle. His fingers drew the broad-bladed spear point into the light. Eschewing the effective but clumsy lances of Dol Amroth, the Order’s combat doctrine borrowed heavily from the cavalry of Rohan. The shaft of the spear had been snapped in the last large engagement that Thagon had participated in, and the Gondorian had yet to remount the head. A unit of twenty knights of the Order, traveling from Dol Amroth to Gondor, stumbled on a group of bandits indulging the darker impulses of human nature on a village. The knights had charged through the village, reformed, and charged back, killing all thirty foes in less than five minutes. He could still remember the bodies of children lying in the streets, their small bodies illuminated by the fires that consumed many of the houses. Why does there always have to be fire?

Dismissing his moment of silent melancholy, the knight put the spear point back into the saddlebag. He would have to find a suitable shaft when they reached the Swan Woods, and that would be the end of it. Chain mail clinked against steel as Thagon spun, his hand automatically reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Leena’s face bore a look of almost girlish innocence as she stepped out from the ruins of the house Thagon had been examining. Her eyes, however, danced with a mocking mirth not unlike a wolf who had just cornered its prey. “Would you strike a priestess of your order?”

Thagon’s hands quickly untied their animals before he turned to face his friend. “Leena, you’re a priestess for the duration of this mission. Please remember that Elenna had trouble keeping a straight face during the ceremony, and all twenty knights currently in the chapter house were laughing their heads off outside the chapel.”

“Be nice of I’ll bore you to death with one of my sermons,” retorted the girl, her lips creasing into a pout.

Thagon grunted and strapped his shield to his left arm. While the protection offered by a shield was comforting, its weight was an annoyance. “Fine. I take it the ruins are clear?”

Leena nodded as she mounted her horse. “The only souls here are gathered in the town square. A whole bunch of men, a girl, and a spattering of elves.”
***

The sound of a horse galloping through the ruined streets of the dead town caused the hodgepodge of adventurers to look up from the various tasks. A few undoubtedly had dozed off, storing away sleep for days and weeks ahead. Others exchanged banter and stories as they waited for the messenger from the Swan Woods. Still others cared for their equipment, sharpening weapons and oiling armor. Thagon critically examined the blade of his main gauche before returning it and a sharpening stone to the respective compartments on his belt. With a grunt of exertion, the knight pulled himself to his feet. It was no small matter to stand when wearing metal armor.

Leena’s busy fingers pulled the needle in and out of Thagon’s black traveling cloak, deftly closing a rip caused by passing a tree at full gallop. Finally satisfied with her work, she returned her working materials to the packhorse. The revelation that his fiery partner sewed had come as a great shock to Thagon. He had spent weeks attempting to reconcile this sedate hobby with its unusual owner, finally coming to the conclusion that it was simply an act. Leena smiled to herself as she watched him draw his bastard sword for the third time in ten minutes. In truth, she did like to sew. It gave her something to do when not working. She idly tucked a few strands of stray hair behind an ear before joining the others in their vigil

The conversation and activity slowly came to a stop as man and elf waited with baited breath. They were not disappointed this time. Thagon’s eyes immediately began to observe her, probing for weaknesses or habits that could be exploited. It wasn’t that he disliked her, but he taught long ago that a little fore planning never hurt anyone. He noted that both the horse and mistress looked exhausted from their journey. Either she was seriously overestimating the danger, or the threat had increased since the Order had heard of their plight. Her choice of vocabulary was unexpected, but not unusual. He made a mental note to inquire about that later.

Leena watched as Jesslyn and Cartil greeted each other, her gray eyes brimming with some interest. In her option, the girls and ladies of Minas Anor had grown a trifle soft. Jess was brimming with zeal and not afraid of adventure, two traits Leena appreciated. Cartil, on the other hand, might prove an interesting challenge. The Order hadn’t been informed that the king would be sending a representative. But such thoughts could wait. Leena breathed deeply waited for Laurel to inquire about their identities again.

“Who art thou?”

“Greeting, Lady of Alphirion. My name is Leena Midthun, priestess of the Weeping Goddess. Rumors of your plight have reached the ear of one of Nienna’s servants. Her heart was greatly troubled, and she ordered her followers to assist you in any way you need. I will be the first to admit that I am not militant by nature, but I will aid you in any way possible.”

Thagon suppressed a boyish grin as he listened to Leena speak. She could normally speak circles around the head of any mortal, but her performance today was dazzling. Never the one to allow an opportunity to pass, Thagon immediately followed up on her speech.

“And I, Lady Laurel, am Sir Thagon Kestner of the Order of the Black Rose. The priestess has ordered me to aid you in your quest along with Lady Midthun. By the will of Namo, my blade will aid you in the protection of your home.”

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin had ridden for what felt like forever. He was too anxious to get to Calembel to care about the lands that he passed on his way. Rugged mountains surrounded him but in the southeast as he crossed the river Ringló near Ethring. He was now following the same route that his King had traveled with the host of the Dead.

Annunfuin reached the gates of Calembel when the sun had already started to sunk towards the horizon. His black Guard uniform had turned grey of dust and he was tired of the days of travel but his senses were as sharp as ever. Everything seemed quiet but silence didn't calm his heart - quite on the contrary. Born and raised in the lively City of Gondor this stillness of the air felt strange and threatening to him.

Annunfuin's mother had used to tell him about this town she was born in; how she met his father and they fell in love. But what he saw now had nothing in resemblance to that town of his mother's stories. Annunfuin made his way pass the deserted houses with their hollow windows that seemed to watch his every step and finally reached the town centre.

Group of people had already gathered around a drained fountain. Annunfuin's eyes narrowed as he glanced over the party. A couple of elves and... I have seen some of these people before, he thought as he dismounted his horse and nodded to company. But he didn't have time to consider this any further as he suddenly heard the sound of hooves approaching from the same direction he had just come. Everyone was at once alert so the relief was great as the comer turned out to be a lonely rider. Her green eyes sparkled in the light of the setting sun as she said in a voice full of pride: "I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?"

Annunfuin waited for someone else to make the first move for he was in no hurry anymore. He saw how a young woman stepped forward and introduced herself offering her sword to service. Jesslyn was her name. She had just stated her name when a young man shouted: "Jess!". As he came closer Annunfuin became certain that this was one he really knew already. Cartil, yes, that's his name, Annunfuin remembered before the man got to introduce himself. They had met many times in Minas Tirith but hadn't really been in any closer contact. But this might be a good time to get to know him better, Annunfuin considered.

Next one to speak was another woman, Leena, not much older than the previous. After she had finished a tall man (as tall as Annunfuin himself but much more heavy built), which seemed to be former's companion, took his turn. This man, Sir Thagon, was one who Annunfuin had thought he had recognised but his name didn't sound familiar to him. He must have spent a lot of time out of the City for otherwise we should have met. Annunfuin woke from his thoughts and decided it was his turn to speak up. "I am Annunfuin and come too from Minas Tirith. Our high King Elessar sent me here and these are his words: 'Do not loose hope for Gondor has not forgotten ye!'" His chain mail made clinking sound as he stepped forward, bowed his head slightly and unsheathed his sword. "So here is my sword that has faithfully served the King - may it now serve the Lady of Alphirion and her people!"

[ March 10, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Manardariel]

"Fiona! Fiona!! Will you come here?!?" An shrill, loud and stern voice rang through the crisp morning air. Fiona stuck her tounge out at the shouter -her oldest sister Rian- and ran for her life. Swiftly she climed up a tree, crouching in one of his highest brances. She heard footsteps below her. Carefully she peeked down, and could just see Rian, looking around. The older girl called out one last time, then, muttering occaisionally about "that girl" returned into the house.

Fiona breethed out. She didn´t know what she had done this time, but, knowing Rian, it was something "un-ladylike". She groaned. Why couldn´t her sister just leave her alone??? A second later she was pulled out of her thoughts by a rustling next to her.

"Porridge!". A squirrel stood before her. Fiona "greeted" it friendly. Porridge was not her pet, but of all the animals that were friends, the squirrel was her favourite. As usually, he guessed she was in a bad mood. He climed up her lap and started licking her tummy. It tickeled. Fiona giggeled. Oh, Porrige was such a good friend...

"Hey, Fio!" She cought a hissing voice, and a blink of an eye later, a pebble narrowly missed her eye. she cought in mid air.

Hey, Sis
I heard you got Rian mad once more.
Good job, keep it up. Oh, and if you care for breakfast with your brothers, we´re in the treehouse.
Hurin

Fiona smiled. Her brothers were best! Grinning broadly, she climed down the tree again, Porrige following closely.

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey sheilded her eyes against the setting sun as she entered Calembel. No one had yet answered the summons for help, so Lanaey went to a space near the town centre to set up her camp for the night.
"Heya, Drass. Here's some hot mesh for your hard riding." If it was one thing Drass loved it was a good rub down, but since she had already gotten that from her master, hot mesh was next on the list.
After making sure her horse was well sated in munching off to one side, Lanaey sat down in front of her little fire, staring into it's depths. I have fire in me, Lanaey reflected. All it does is consume. Never ending and always demanding, it is never sated. Looking into the sky she wondered if this fight would make any difference. None of the others had, no matter how much good was done or saved - it just hadn't mattered. Sighing, she rolled into her bedroll and stared into the night until her body finally fell asleep.

Lanaey woke the next day very rested, which was a good thing considering she hadn't slept for at least a week. She felt sleeping now would help her for the upcoming days of travel and fight. Stretching out of sleep, she got another fire going since the previous one had died to still embers. Before she would break her fast she needed to do her morning exercises. Gathering all her weapons she spread them out in front of her in a specified manner. Glancing around quickly, she sighted all of the targets that she would use while practicing in the ruins around her. Crouching low to the ground, she mentally started her exercises before actually moving any muscles. Slow breathing and meditation prepared her. When she did finally move her limbs, it was slow and deliberate. Light touch, shift, pivot, turn.... Gradually it got faster until she was whirling around, looking out of control but completely in control. In a turn she bent low and grabbed a long knife. Swiftly it became a part of her, flowing as if truly connected to her. In another move she grabbed the second long knife and started using them together in her movements. Now her movements took on a quality of attacking unseen enemies while still continually moving. After several minutes she threw first one, then the other long knife into a nearby fallen tree. Flipping around she now moved on to her throwing knives, picking up one at a time and trowing it into a target before getting another - always moving so fluidly so as to appear almost dancing. One knive was thrown into a niche in a stone wall, another into a tree further away, all being thrown to specific places until all were now part of the land about her. Never stopping she moved onto her sword, making it an extension of her arm, whichever was holding it at the time. Now, she started to slow down, gradually taking it down step by step. Soon she seemed to be pacing in a pattern. While still moving, she put her sword down and grabbed her bow with five arrows. Turn, nock, fire, side-step, nock, fire...all the arrows hit their marks, high and low. Once more she picked up her sword after placing the bow down and did more cooling down till she crouched again on the ground with her sword layed in front of her. Feeling relaxed she retrieved her weapons around the site, then set about for her first meal of some porridge, her last of it in fact.
Throughout the day Lanaey searched the ruins, noting various little things about it. She also exercised Drass around Calembel. When people started arriving she picked a spot in the back of the town centre and offered no conversation other than to confirm that this was Calembel. When Laurel of Alphirion showed up, Lanaey kept to the back until all others were introduced. Walking to the fore, she looked into Laurel's green eyes without offering her hand.
"Lady, my name is Lanaey and my services are yours for the time being."
Then she retreated back to her spot.

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen sat at the large cedar desk in the library of Rivendell. Skimming over the recent policies of the Order of the Black Rose. A glass of red wine sat beside her work along with a plate of bread and cheese, her usual evening meal. She refolded the parchment and set it on a stack of other papers. Rubbing her eyes she leaned back in the ornately decorated chair. A messenger came before her then and bowed low in respect for the elf before him. Standing again he announced,

“My Lady Annanoldowen, there is a messenger from Calembel to see you.” The she-elf nodded,

“Show him in.” The messenger left, and then returned with a young boy no older than twenty years of age. He stomped once and bowed before her.

“I bring word from Kemenheruwen. There is a council forming in Calembel at the request of Lady Laurel, granddaughter to Lady Talaphiel of Alphirion.” Annanoldowen nodded. Her friend, Kemenheruwen, one of the last earth masters in Middle Earth still dwelt in the deserted town of Calembel. In the cellar of her apothecary among old jars and plants, she studied the elements and ways of the earth. She was an elf of Mirkwood, and once her knowledge was complete in the ways of medicines and such, she would return and offer herself in service to Thranduil, but until then, she educated herself. Annanoldowen had met her in Mirkwood, many years ago, when she traveled hence to learn more about their society in the ancient, now corrupted forest of Greenwood.

The other name that was familiar to her was the Lady Talaphiel of Alphirion. She had heard of the influence of this great woman in many a city of men. Annanoldowen respected her accomplishments, and was interested in Kemenheruwen’s request. The earth master would have little to do with such meticulous events, so Annanoldowen decided she would investigate. Dismissing the messengers, she retired to her chambers.

She discarded her elegant dress for one of a grey hue, useful for travel. Folding other clothes into a saddlebag, she tied it shut and placed it on the floor by her bed. The elf then retrieved her sword and tied it around her waist. It’s intricate scabbard a matching addition to her entourage. Slipping out of the room, carrying her saddlebag, she moved quickly, but silently down the hall to the stables where she kept her horse, Taurawaa, one of Mearas. She slipped a saddle over the horse’s silver grey coat and secured her saddlebag in the back. Mounting in a flurry of grey and silver robes, she exited the stables and galloped out of Rivendell, south towards Calembel.

The wind was fierce as it fought to throw Annanoldowen from her mount. Bending low over the neck of her steed, she shot through the air like an arrow. Her journey to Calembel would take her the better part of a week atop any other horse, but Taurawaa got her there in two days. She entered through the back of the city and found the apothecary where her friend lived. Leading the horse right into the building, she descended the stairs to her friend’s quarters.

“Annanoldowen? Is that you?” A grey haired elf stood as she saw her old friend enter the room. The two friends embraced. “It’s been so long.” Kemenheruwen motioned towards a chair and supplied her friend with some wine and bread. Annanoldowen accepted gratefully. The two elves talked at length of their lives since their last meeting only fifty years ago. When they were caught up, Kemenheruwen changed to more serious matters. She informed Annanoldowen of the raids, and the desertion of Calembel. The Rivendell elf listened intently, taking in everything.

“Now Laurel is here, and a group of elves and men have gathered at the old fountain in the center of town.” Kemenheruwen fiddled idly with a jar of some mystic herb on the table.

“Have you approached them?” asked Annanoldowen, taking a delicate sip of her drink. The earth master shook her head,

“No. I am not good with people, you know. The people started arriving a week ago, and from the conversations I overheard hiding in the shadows, this is all I’ve learned. I sent Fithan to summon you. I knew that your knowledge may help rid Alphirion of the raiders.” Annanoldowen ate silently for a while in thought.

“So the raiders are unknown.” Kemenheruwen nodded. When the newcomer finished eating, Kemenheruwen stood and donned her cloak. Annanoldowen did likewise and followed the earth master out the apothecary towards the gathering of elves and men.

The two friends hovered in the shadows watching the council, the Rivendell elf trying to make out any information by movement and gestures.

“What do you think?” asked the earth master watching the other.

“Stay here.” Annanoldowen emerged like a wraith from the darkness. Eyes were slowly averted as she approachd. Her beauty was stunning and the sudden appearance of such an elf among them was baffling. Annanoldowen seemed to float gracefully towards them, until she stood in front of Laurel. The elf bowed and introdued herself.

“I am Annanoldowen of Rivendell.” Recognition flashed in Laurel’s eyes as she mouthed the name.

“A messenger came to me two nights ago during my studies, informing me of this gathering informing me of this gathering. I arrived immediately.” Laurel wondered how in the world she arrived so fast when Taurawaa emerged from the back road and came to stand beside her master.

“I am familiar with your grandmother, Laurel, and would be honored to be of some help. My skill in fighting is not my strongest point, therefore I would like to offer my knowledge.” The elf’s presence was so commanding, the group stood speechless. She stood higher than any of them, and her horse was a perfect match to her elegance. A radiant glow seemed to protrude from behind her somewhere, setting alight the golden threads on her head. Annanoldowen waited patiently, memorizing every face in the council as Laurel welcomed her.

[Elfhelm]

At Calembel, the gathering of people were almost done with their introductions. A soft breeze blew the dust from the old worn road towards the company waiting by the waterless fountain. But after the breeze had died, the dust continued to blow in. The keenest eyed of the little crowd were the first to realize that a party of horsemen were approaching them swiftly.

A dust cloud hurled around the corner of the ruined city’s main road and came to a halt in the square. As the swirling veil of sand lifted, there could be distinguished 13 well-armed Riders of Rohan. Immediately after stopping his large stallion, one of the Riders dismounted with a skillful flourish and stepped forward. The rider was very tall, easily towering over even the Gondorians. He was also thin, but seemingly muscular, which he undoubtedly was from daily weapon training. Upon his head, he bore a steel helm that was fashioned in the style of the Rohirrim, and he promptly removed it to reveal neat golden locks of shoulder-length hair. The Man of Rohan lifted his face to the small crowd, and they found him to have boldly formed facial features, fair skin and sky blue eyes. The man’s facial form went well with his trim golden beard to give him a very handsome appearance. Before he began to speak, he caught Leena’s eye and gave her a charming smile. Then, he addressed the gathering of races with a loud, clear voice that spoke elegantly enough for it to be the voice of a minstrel.

“Greetings my friends and future companions,” the speaker began. “I am Herebrand son of Halador, the leader of this Rohirrim patrol. We are here today to give this message to the people of Swan-wood that was spoken by King Eomer himself: ‘the people of Rohan have not forgotten their promise. We will readily aid you so that your peaceful realm shall not perish for generations to come.’ My men and I pledge our lives to assist your people in ridding your home of raiders and marauders. We are an elite patrol commissioned by Prince Elfwine the Fair to perform special assignments for the Marshals of the Mark, and we will not leave until our job is done!”

This statement was greeted by applause from the gathering, and Herebrand returned to the safety of the horses to speak with his men. His voice lost its regal quality as he conversed animatedly with two of the rohirrim for a few moments. Subsequently, he stepped forward and addressed the assembly again. “Also may I introduce you to Ohtaredan, my second-in-command, and Ilisit Scron, a new addition to my patrol, but nevertheless an expert tracker and warrior.”

[The Ruling Ring]

As Ohtaredan listened to Herebrand's pledge to the small crowd to help them in their need, he felt the emotions of the warrior stir within him; desire to do good, to help those in danger. But he could feel them sink as the people cheered, being dragged down with the feelings of wistful absence. His hand brushed the hilt of his sword. It was a nice hilt on an even finer sword. When his father had to told him finally that he was going to join the Riders of Rohan, he'd gone outside by himself, behind the house, to the anvil that sat waiting and inviting, always, and began to make the sword. It had taken him the entire week, working from the evening well into the night, but it was ready when he joined up. Gostannendoll (roughly "feared dark" in Sindarin), he had named the blade, and while it had proved useful on many occasions with the guard, it also proved to be a somewhat upsetting reminder of what his family had made him give up, no matter how dearly he loved and respected Herebrand and the others, or cherished the feelings of valor he found himself rewarded with much of the time.

Ohtaredan looked up sharply, realizing that Herebrand was speaking to him and Ilisit. He smiled obligingly at Herebrand as the leader turned back to the group, introducing them.

“Also may I introduce you to Ohtaredan, my second-in-command, and Ilisit Scron, a new addition to my patrol, but nevertheless an expert tracker and warrior.”

Ohtaredan stepped forward, eyeing those before him with the strength he knew he possessed, and would demonstrate amply, before this was done.

"I wish only to be of aid," he said softly.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel set her green eyes around the square. Many had gathered here, and the town seemed almost alive. But her call to the crowd, even for a brief moment, fell in the death that was this place.

Quickly, people filed forward to offer greetings, and she looked straight into their faces with the depth of her skill. Laurel had learnt to look into the souls of those she meets through their eyes, a trick of Taralphiel, and this was no better time to use it. First a woman of Gondor came forward. Her black hair shone around her shoulders, and her youthful grin drew attention from all standing there. She bowed low, and offered her sword in the custom of old, then said: “I am Jesslyn Stone. I hail from the town of Tarnost, just south of here. I offer my sword to any attempt to rid Dor-En-Ernil of raiders and such barbarians. Long has my family and village stood by, not knowing what to do, and now that we gather here to destroy the force that threatens us, we know what we must do. We must defend our land and people. Not many of us residents of the forest have gone without losing a family member to the raiders, and I am here to avenge their deaths and prevent more.” Laurel felt great comfort in her words.

As she was speaking, a roar came from the crowd “Jess!” Laurel watched as a young man made his way through the crowd and embraced Jesslyn. He had the same flowing dark hair and cheerful eyes. He produced a parchment, and offered many pardons: “Forgive me! I have not introduced myself! I am Cartil Stone; I come here as a representative of the King Elessar and his Reunited Kingdom, especially Minas Tirith. I bring greetings and well wishes from the King,” Cartil spoke in a stately voice and handed the parchment to her. It was elegantly rolled and tied with string. Looking gratefully at the man, she gave quick thanks. ‘They are of Dor-en-ernil, they are true, I have little to doubt’ she thought.


Next came forward another woman of Gondor; beautiful, dark haired, and sprite eyed. The woman spoke cheerfully “Greeting, Lady of Alphirion. My name is Leena Midthun, priestess of the Weeping Goddess. Rumors of your plight have reached the ear of one of Nienna’s servants. Her heart was greatly troubled, and she ordered her followers to assist you in any way you need. I will be the first to admit that I am not militant by nature, but I will aid you in any way possible.” Laurel set her eyes on hers, and saw naught. Next came her companion. His neatly tied black hair swayed with his cape, and she watched him carefully. He spoke: “And I, Lady Laurel, am Sir Thagon Kestner of the Order of the Black Rose. The priestess has ordered me to aid you in your quest along with Lady Midthun. By the will of Namo, my blade will aid you in the protection of your home.” His grey eyes were full of the same. Laurel mused quietly to herself ‘They are masking their motives, and I cannot trust that. Order of the Rose? Nienna’s Priesthood? I must ask grandmother of this.’ He simply stood aside, and it seemed to her that he too, was observing her.

Another man, who had kept to himself, now spoke. Garbed in the black of the White Tower Guard, his eyes were full of pride and seriousness, and an air of honour showed her she had naught to fear “I am Annunfuin and come too from Minas Tirith. Our high King Elessar sent me here and these are his words: 'Do not loose hope for Gondor has not forgotten ye!’” Again the customs of Gondor were shown to her before he spoke again. "So here is my sword that has faithfully served the King - may it now serve the Lady of Alphirion and her people!" She nodded and smiled, and told him to rise. ‘Thankyou’ she breathed.

Then came the Elves. Some wind seemed to blow through the town, for a different air flowed around the clothes of these ethereal beings. First, was a she-elf: "Lady, my name is Lanaey and my services are yours for the time being." Her greeting was brief, but a royal glow was in her eyes, royal and sorrowful. ‘She has the air of my grandmother’ smiled Laurel. Scanning the crowd, she spotted an Elf out of the way. He was dark and fey, and made Laurel shudder ‘why is he here?’ she thought. Then out of the crowd came another she-elf, but this one was of a commanding air. All stood silent as she spoke, and none moved: “I am Annanoldowen of Rivendell.” She said. At the sound of the name, Laurel jerked. Her grandmother had mentioned it once. ‘She is a great Elf, and wise, I have only met her once, but she is one of the great’ Laurel smiled in recognition “A messenger came to me two nights ago during my studies, informing me of this gathering. I arrived immediately.” At that a horse of great beauty stood beside her and many that had skill in them gasped at the sight of it “I am familiar with your grandmother, Laurel, and would be honored to be of some help. My skill in fighting is not my strongest point, therefore I would like to offer my knowledge.” Laurel saw the glow of Elfinesse around her, and thought to bow, but considered otherwise. She replied simply ‘I thank you deeply for it. Though my grandmother has changed in times past, she will remember thee, and be glad to have you on our quest’

As she had done so, she turned to see a cavalry of hardy travel worn horses come into the square. The rumble lifted her ochre-coloured hair off her shoulders, and she shielded her eyes from the dust. Three men deftly dismounted their horses and stepped forward. The first man of Rohan was tall and strong, and his yellow eyes seemed to take her to plains and Golden halls. He flashed a smile at Leena, who flushed, then turned and proudly spoke: “Greetings my friends and future companions, I am Herebrand son of Halador, the leader of this Rohirrim patrol. We are here today to give this message to the people of Swan-wood that was spoken by King Eomer himself: ‘the people of Rohan have not forgotten their promise. We will readily aid you so that your peaceful realm shall not perish for generations to come.’ My men and I pledge our lives to assist your people in ridding your home of raiders and marauders. We are an elite patrol commissioned by Prince Elfwine the Fair to perform special assignments for the Marshals of the Mark, and we will not leave until our job is done!” People broke out in praise at his gallant speech. Thagon was quiet; a sour look spread on his face. Smiling widely, Laurel nodded to him. He quickly retreated to his sortie, before turning back and saying: “Also may I introduce you to Ohtaredan, my second-in-command, and Ilisit Scron, a new addition to my patrol, but nevertheless an expert tracker and warrior.”

His two companions stepped forward and bowed their heads. The first was Ohtaredan "I wish only to be of aid," He was a similar stanced man, but his eyes told much more ‘He may not want to be here, but his heart is going through much change. He will yet prove true’. Ilisit too stepped forward and gruffly gave his name. ‘This man is tormented’ Laurel mused ‘The pools of Feanwe may ease his hearts pain, who knows’. At that the horses of Rohan stepped back. Laurel still marveled at their sight. They reminded her of her grandfather, and of them, most Herebrand. Her heart ached to see her family, as they once were in bliss, now so few.

She then moved forward and said: ‘I thank you all from the depths of my heart for coming here, whatever other motives may have drives you’ At that Ohtaredan shifted uncomfortably, as did quite a few of the others. She continued ‘But that will soon change. Alphirion is a sight to behold I assure thee. You have not seen it, but your kings and queens have thus their summons of you. You will see it in much of its glory, though it is fast fading. And with it, fades its lady’ At that Laurels face turned to stone for a moment, and its seemed to them her eyes went from the depths of their enchanting green, to an abysmal dark. Many stared at this, others, such as Thagon, were stiff and cold..

Soon she spoke again with effort ‘For matters at hand, we shall camp here for the day and night. Doubtless many have just arrived and are fatigued. And others will welcome the quiet’ she smiled sadly ‘Tonight, I will hold word with each of your companies, by your leave, and shall let you all talk with another. It is a simple plan, ride straight to the Swan Village on the outskirts of Alphirion without delay. May the wings of those graceful birds give us speed’ with that she fell silent and walked away.

She had arrived around midday, now dusk was blanketing over the quiet town. Fires of the different camps lit up, and standards flew limply, glowing in yellow light and glory. The pride of men and Elves drifted around the flames and ebbed through everyone’s hearts. But the Maid of the Swan was nowhere to be found. She was standing on the hill by the end of the town, the cold night air stabbing at her. Her riding gear had been replaced by a pale dress of grey and silver with a short train of pale silk, which to all must have seemed strange. Though this was a thing of right. As nobles once did, Laurel addressed the Eve, and turned toward the direction of her village, the lights of small towns flickered and lit her eyes, but little more was to be seen. The low hills took away the Sea, her heart aching to see it. There she whispered her vigil ‘Swan give me flight. Vali of goodness give me strength of my patron, give me the light to soar, and give my Lady grace and will to serve. Keep her safe, and guide me to her, and-’ she paused and thought on her last phrase ‘free my heart from the shadow, and let it bask in the light of the moon’. She looked out and gave a small smile. ‘You pray as the queens of old Milady’ a voice whispered, cutting the silence. She spun around to face the figure, out of the light, she could not see him, but supposed him one of the companies of Men ‘Show yourself’ she hissed. He stepped forward and spoke…

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin stretched his back and then rubbed his tense shoulders. He was no young lad
anymore and this was one of those moments when he got painful reminders of that fact. He had found a decent spot for himself and his night-blue stallion Fëadûr in one of the deserted cottages. The horse was part of the shadows like his master and they shared a common longing for peace and quiet as well. But still Annunfuin had decided that it would be best to camp at the south fringes of the town square and keep the other members of this quest in sight.

Annunfuin dug a shallow dip for the camp fire and soon the flames started to illuminate the small shack. He prepared some porridge and added in dried meat and beans. The meal was simple but Annunfuin considered it almost luxorious under the circumstances. Warmth, food and couple sips of water restored his strength and he thought it was time to look around. He had changed his black uniform for dark grey garments and a moss-green cloak. "You will be in charge here while I’m away, Fëadûr", said Annunfuin to his stallion and grinned when the horse wagged its head as if nodding. He left his gear in Fëadûr’s trusted care and took only his sword with him as he stepped out to the street.

Shadows were steadily growing longer and deeper but small fires here and there lighted up the greyness. Annunfuin had thought he might go to speak with Cartil Stone, the other Gondorian which King Elessar had sent on this mission. Annunfuin couldn't help but wonder why his King hadn't told him that an emissary had already been sent. He had felt somewhat uneasy reciting King's words after Cartil had handed his parchment. But now he could see that Cartil was absorbed in conversation with his sister and he didn't have the heart to disturb their shared moment. Annunfuin sighed.
It would be nice to have someone that close to talk to. Dark shade swept over his face and he turned away from that sight to walk to the opposite direction.

Annunfuin had wandered off from the town center. He preferred the lonely dusty streets to the camp fires and lively conversations. His steps led him finally to the borders of Calembel where nature had taken back what once belonged to it; undergrowth had swampt the street and earth seemed to have swallowed the tree structures. Stones from the walls had lost their sharp shapes and fixed places as parts of structure and appeared as if they had never been worked by men. Annunfuin felt a sudden urge to lie down and let nature take him too, use his body as a bed for new life.
But no, now is not the time. Not yet. While I might be of some use here. He forced himself out of these thoughts and smiled cheerlessly. He knew he wasn't that old and as a warrior he was at his best; skilled and as strong as ever but considerate. But he felt that this was going to change soon, too soon...

All of a sudden Annunfuin heard a voice from his left. His hand was on the hilt of his sword before the thought of that action had formed in his mind. He had walked quietly all the way but now he really started to move like a haunting spirit. His soft leather boots made no sound as he drew near the place he thought the voice came from. And then, from behind some rocks and trees, he saw Laurel in her silvery robe. She was praying and the power of the ancient words enchanted Annunfuin. For a while he thought he saw not a young girl but a queen from the past, mighty and beautiful as an elf with a fine golden band gracing her head. "Free my heart from the shadow, and let it bask in the light of the moon". Those words hit right in Annunfuin's heart. But then her words faded into the wind as the last beams of sunlight disappeared and the vision was gone. Annunfuin shook his head as if to shrugg of a spell, took a deep breath and spoke in a gentle voice: "You pray as the queens of old Milady".

Laurel turned around faster than a lightning and tried to see who had caught her unguarded. "Show yourself", she hissed and Annunfuin trod away from the shadows. "I'm sorry, Milady, I didn't mean to disturb you and I only ended up here by coincidence. I was seeking solitude myself... But I heard your voice and it enchanted me." He paused, then continued: "And I meant what I said." Laurel's face reflected no emotion as she took on the mask she seemed to bear all the time. But Annunfuin knew better now for her voice had revealed the truth. And he knew also that Laurel had tried to read his thoughts while they first met. He had hiddden his true nature behind formal manners and proud words but now he felt obliged to let her see his soul as he had just seen hers. His dark grey eyes met with Laurel's sparkling green ones and for a while no words were spoken aloud. "If I had a daughter she would most likely be quite like you", Annunfuin thought. And he allowed a slight smile grew on his face as he realized he had said this thought aloud. This was something Laurel really had not expected him to say and Annunfuin saw an amazed look on her eyes before she had time to disguise it. "And once there was a time when I thought that my prayers would be answered..." When his voice failed he turned his face away from Laurel and stood in silence. His eyes watched the kindling stars but all he could feel was how the darkness within him spread like a poison in his veins.

[ March 18, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Ransom]

Because of the inherent instability of weather, Thagon and Leena had chosen a large building bordering the town square to set up camp. From the old, weather beaten sign leaning against the side the wall, it had probably been once been a store. While the furniture, floor, walls, and roof had disappeared long ago, four stonewalls still provided a degree of protection against the elements. The pair of Gondorians soon turned the empty ruin into a decent campsite. Their tent had been pitched against the back wall and their bedrolls spread on the ground. The dark yellow and red light from a campfire cast its light around the clearing, illuminating a neatly stacked pile of firewood and a whistling knight who had just completed the long and arduous task of cleaning his armor.

Thagon stretched, feeling the cool night breeze seeping into the thick leather clothing he wore under his armor. It served a double purpose, providing another line of defense against missile weapons as well as preventing the armor from chafing against the skin. Leena had run off after dinner, no doubt to wash in the nearest body of water. Of course, this had left him to complete the nightly chores himself. He grabbed his bastard sword and secured the leather sheath over his back. Compared to his plate mail, the sword seemed to weigh next to nothing. Glancing around again to make sure that everything was in place, he walked through the gap where the door had once been. Passing the trio of tethered horses, he slowly made his way toward the broken fountain. Thagon hadn’t gone stargazing for quite a long time.

***

Leena had always felt that she had problem staying clean. It wasn’t that she was negligent when it came to her body. Indeed, she had often been warned by well meaning friends about the dangers of bathing too much. The problem wasn’t in her surroundings or her habits. Thagon had always teased her because of her fanatical aversion to dust and grime. No, it was the fact that she always felt hot and sweaty. She had always had that particular problem, even when she was running in the streets of Pelargir. The extended amount of traveling only aggravated the condition. In addition to the fact that she could not bathe as often as she wanted, she also had to contend with the pungent odor that kept her chain mail shirt rust free.

The Gondorian let her damp hair blow in the soft breeze as she quietly padded across the meadows just outside the town, trusting nature instead of a towel to dry her hair. After dinner, she had slipped out of camp with a towel and a bar of soap to bathe in a swimming hole just inside the forest. Thagon would undoubtedly complain that she hadn’t helped with the dishes when she returned, but she could live with that. It was a small price to pay for staying clean. Meanwhile, she was enjoying one of her rare periods of good humor by searching for wildflowers. Placing some of the better smelling flowers in or near her armor greatly helped in masking the odor.

Laurel’s prayer and subsequent conversation caught her by surprise, making her jump and drop the small bouquet of wildflowers she had gathered. Leena silently berated herself for being taken off guard but listening closely to her words. She recognized the words from an old text she had picked up during a snowstorm, but the Gondorian wasn’t close enough to make the words up. Shrugging, she bent over and continued to search for flowers. Laurel was entitled to her privacy, and there would be more than enough time to speak with her later.

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen left the camp when all had arrived. Introductions were important, and allowing her future companions to feel comfortable with her presence was just as well. Though, she needed to speak with Kemenheruwen, and collect the things she would need. The earth master and she walked back towards the abandoned apothecary and retreted down the cellar stairs. Kemenheruwen moved quickly and efficiently around the shop searching for herbs to give her friend. Annanoldowen, meanwhile, stood like a shadow in the doorway, thinking…

Calembel, once a prosperous city, is now abandoned. Bereft of any life save for that of Kemenheruwen who arrived just before the desertion. Were the ravagers of this town the same as those of the forest. She had asked her friend, but Kemenheruwen was away when the events had taken place. Annanoldowen believed it to be so. Swaying as if she was a very tall tree on the mountainside, the elf stood with her eyes closed, trying to recall anything that could be of some beginning use. Taralphiel, mistress of Swan Wood, the Alphirion Forest. The elf shook her head trying to squeeze more out of her more previously learned knowledge. She then decided to go over all the details, reciting all she knew of Taralphiel. She married a youth from Rohan, Eriador was his name, and followed him to the elven realm of Greenwood, Annanoldowen caught herself then, correcting, [/I]Mirkwood. She aided in Minas Tirith. Premonitions … [/I]. The elf’s head was pounding now, she shook it stubbornly, Yes, Taralphiel has great knowledge of histories. A match even for my own. It is only my age that benefits me, and the troubles of the world that dwells upon my soul continually—.

“Will you need Athelas?” asked Kemenheruwen, pulling Annanoldowen from her thoughts.

“Oooh, you silly kuruni! I was thinking, couldn’t you tell?” She looked at the crisp, green weed in the earth master’s hand and shrugged, “I’m sure the other elves have a good share, but of course we’ll need a generous amount.” She moved over to the desk and sat down heavily, massaging her head. “Did you ever meet Taralphiel or her granddaughter?” she asked after a while. Kemenheruwen shook her head.

“I do not believe so. I came here a year or so before the occupants of this city were forced out. Since then I have stayed here in this store, down in this cellar, collecting, labeling, and studying herbs and plants, pouring over ancient manuscripts, and studying magic—” Annanoldowen laughed,

“Magic?” Kemenheruwen brushed her away and placed a dozen bundles of Athelas into the Rivendell elf’s pack. “I must review my thoughts, Kemenheruwen. I do not suppose you could leave me alone for an hour.” The earth master laughed and moved towards the back of the cellar, searching for things.

Annanoldowen collected her dark grey robe around her and walked up the cellar steps, and out the back of the apothecary. The yard was a mess of mud from relentless rain over the past years, and broken sheds and fences, either rotted from time, or burnt in the raiding of the city. Stepping carefully over the remains of a stack of unused firewood, Annanoldwen left the yard of the apothecary and walked out into the street. The air was damp, and cool. A light evening breeze blew as the elf wandered through the streets of Calembel, away from the remainder of the company. Her appearance was not ancient, and she appeared to be no older than Laurel herself. It was her eyes that made people understand her history, and respect her level of experience. Focusing then on her thoughts she collected wisps of information about Laurel she had received while speaking with her for the little amount of time she was able. Daughter of Estilien and Havor, and granddaughter of Taralphiel and Eriador on her mother’s side and Havlor on her father’s side … Annanoldowen had only spoken with Taralphiel and Eriador. She had never met any of the woman’s descendents, and was honored to be given the privilege of aiding her granddaughter now after so many years. The elf had great respect for the girl. She may be young, but is wise beyond any of her age… Annanoldowen had not been able to read much through her eyes or the aura about her. Laurel was introverted, making her mind difficult to decipher.

The sun settled behind a low bank of clouds, setting alight the sky with brilliant hues of reds and oranges. The colors crept through tiny holes and crevices in the crumbling buildings, making it seem as if the town was aglow with fire. A brisk wind came from behind, and whipped around the aging trees, billowing the elf’s robes out before her like a thundercloud. Along with the wind came a voice … noble and unwavered, a quiet hum in the wind … Swan give me flight. Vali of goodness give me strength of my patron, give me the light to soar, and give my Lady grace and will to serve. Keep her safe, and guide me to her, and free my heart from the shadow, and let it bask in the light of the moon… The elegance of the words of old faded as the wind traveled over the abandoned village, brushing its rough hand along cracking roofs and inhabited chimneys. The voice who whispered the words into the fading evening was that of a maiden, saddened by times of death and defeat. Laurel. Sighing, the elf ventured back towards the apothecary. She knew of Taralphiel, she knew of Laurel, she knew of the downfall of Calembel and the raiders of Alphirion. Lingering thoughts flittered in her mind of methods of victory, and triumph over the intruders. None of them were whole, and all of them floated just out of reach. Time was not on their side, and that was the one thing that Annanoldowen needed most. She pushed the thought away and dwelt on other things. Her mind wandered to the faces of the warriors that had given their swords and oaths to aid Laurel.

All were either men or elves. Strong and dependable. What concerned her most were the female warriors. Female warriors were very rare, and Annanoldowen knew little of them. Were they as dependable as the male warriors? She hoped they were, and saw no reason why they wouldn’t be. A good third or so of this company consisted of them, and they all seemed battle-hardened and trustworthy. Faces and names were neatly organized in her mind as she recalled them all. It was a good assortment she supposed. There were many officials from both realms of men, along with a few wanderers. Why Elessar would send three different messengers for the same cause, Annanoldowen did not know. She also didn’t understand why a few solitary figures would risk their lives for the sanctity of Swan Wood. She wanted to talk with Laurel right away, but the voice on the wind had suggested that the woman was in so such position. Perhaps there is more to the faces that I could gather.

When she looked up again she was in front of the apothecary and Kemenheruwen was holding two bags. One was the leather sack containing Annanoldowen’s clothing and the other was a smaller one holding things from the earth master. Taurawaa was gone of course, only to arrive on Annanoldowen’s summoning.

“I will carry these for you to where the others are.” The Rivendell elf eyed her friend questioningly.

“But you don’t like people.” Kemenheruwen shrugged and led her friend back towards the company.

Behind them the last of the sun’s rays filtered through the town as it receded back behind the distant mountains. The moon appeared as a great pearl in the diamond-studded sky, and night pulled its velvet cape over the land. Annanoldowen joined the company just as the fires were being exstinguished, and weary eyes were being closed to welcome sleep.

Annanoldowen stood up against an old warehouse fairly close to where the others were, Kemenheruwen stood beside her.

“If anything goes wrong, you can come back and I will help you if I can,” offered the earth master. Annanoldowen nodded,

“Thank you.” Instead of leaving though, the young elf stayed awhile and talked in hushed tones to her older friend so as not to disturb anyone else. Sleep would not be necessary for Annanoldowen for some time now, and she would not risk missing a thing.

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Adding some more wood to Jess and Cartil’s small fire by a building close to the fountain, Jess crouched next to the fire and kindles the flame with her own twig. Cartil’s white horse, Sparrow, had taken a liking to Calembel, it seemed. Sparrow would explore all open doors and windows unless Cartil called him back towards the tiny flame that he and Jess crowded around.

“Why did you come, Jess?” Cartil continued a conversation they had been holding, and he pulled his pack from under his head, for he had been laying on it until then. Sitting up, he opened the pack and began rummaging through it.

“Father isn’t young anymore, you know. Mother merely knew that she wanted to help in sending someone else. Our sisters are all married, and you know Jovanna has two children to take care of and Najah is with child. They couldn’t send anyone, much less come themselves, even if they were to only be a healer like Roana or be a map-reader. So, I decided to go. Besides, I can feel the air changing, and I know if something isn’t done about the raiders, they’ll do something about us.” Jess took a bite of an apple she had packed, and then made a clicking noise with her tongue, and Sparrow trotted from his exploration of a tavern nearby to stand next to Jess. Jess patted his forehead, and took an extra apple from her pack for Sparrow.

“I know…father probably didn’t even want to send anyone in the first place. You know you can’t fight as well as some of the men that came here from Rohan. Why come? Mother could have always sent someone else.” Cartil groaned inwardly as Sparrow clip-clopped from Jess to him, and nudged the man with his muzzle.

“I know, I know. I can defend myself though, and mother didn’t want to be sending any other mother’s child, no matter how old. You know how she is. I can help, I know how to read maps…not that we’ll really need them, what with Laurel here and all,” Jess’ eyes became hazy, as though she was lost in thought. “What did that decree say?”

Cartil smirked at his younger sister. Leave it to Jess. She’d always get to the ‘heart of the matter’. Laying back again, and using his pack as a pillow, Cartil thought of an answer. “You know full well I’m not supposed to go reading letters that aren’t mine.”

“C’mon, Cartil! I know you read it! I can see it on your face, you high and mighty messenger boy!” Jess laughed and took her apple-filled bag and hit Cartil’s stomach lightly. Cartil sat up and readied himself to throw his pack at his sister, but he stopped and smiled.

“Okay…fine! I can’t quite remember everything, but it was definitely something about sending his support to the cause of Swan Wood, blah, blah, blah…” Cartil glared at a playful Sparrow as he continued to nudge Cartil’s shoulder and back.

“Of course it says that! Anyone could’ve told you that! Why did they send those other Gondorian people if they sent you?”

“Well, I actually am not sure why they’re here. I didn’t know they were coming. But, that’s the hazard of being a messenger and diplomat kind of man: you’re never told anything unless you read the messages yourself, or you write them youself!”

“Do I hear a confession?” Jess laughed again, until Cartil hit her over the head with his soft, not-filled-with-apples bag. After a few minutes of pack-fighting, Jess and Cartil settled down, and under the tarp of the store they had chosen for their shelter, the siblings stared at the fountain, and the mist-rain that sprinkled it.

"Cartil?" Jess broke the silence that had fallen over the two, save for Sparrow's slight whinnies.

"Huh?"

"Have you ever seen elves before now? Why would any still be about if they could go over the sea and be forever happy and joyful?" The question had bothered Jess for a time, and she never really thought of an answer.

"Yes...you may be too young to remember, but once a group of Elves visited mother, and they showed me how to use the bow and quiver. That was the first and last time I saw Elves, until today. I think they miss Middle-Earth, but somehow know they have to go. This is the Age of Men, or so I've been told. Though I cannot rightly tell you, Jess, for I am no Elf." The two sat in silence for a time, after Cartil answered Jess' question.

[Elfhelm]

Herebrand son of Halador had wasted no time in choosing an ideal spot to spend the night. The small party of Rohirrim had pitched camp close to the outskirts of the town. Tall oaks from the nearby forest provided shelter from the unpredictable weather— as well as giving them partial concealment from any friend or foe alike. With a small fire built in the center, the campsite was almost cozy.

As night fell, the outrider patrol took to preparing their supplies and mending loose-saddle straps for the journey they would make the following day. While these chores were being completed, Herebrand paced with long strides around the campsite. There were many things on the Rohirrim’s mind, and he tended to worry easily. Herebrand wondered at the vagueness of his mission, for Elfwine usually briefed him thoroughly before assignments, and the Prince’s lack of crucial information concerning his work had made the patrol leader uneasy.

He knew that the enemies of Taralphiel’s people employed tactics that Herebrand was almost unfamiliar of. He was used to fighting face to face with his adversaries on the battlefield, or perhaps in a small skirmish with his men. The marauders attacking Dor-En-Edhil did not fight out in the open—rather they used a hit-and-run strategy that bore no honor at all. Concepts of honor were very important to Herebrand. Both his father and grandfather had died valiantly in combat. He sighed at the thought of his father. Lord Halador and his son had been very close.

For a few minutes, he supervised the tasks being accomplished by his men, trying to relax and make himself at ease. The patrol leader finally decided that a short walk would clear his head and silence his misgivings. He told Ohtaredan to take over while he went for a brief stroll.

“Be careful Captain, who knows what might prowl around this abandoned ruin in the sun’s absence,” said Ohtaredan as Herebrand left the campground.

On his way down to the deserted city of Calembel, he came across the first night watch—Stagwine son of Seordras.

“Perhaps bad weather will come soon, so make your wanderings brief,” he said.

Herebrand took that to mind, as he descended from the hill encampment of his men. He turned around and saw that they seemed to be no longer hard at work, but rather jesting and acting gaily. Herebrand laughed within himself. He could not be angry with the men he had grown to regard as family. The grizzled veterans had become fathers and uncles, and the young trackers and cavaliers had become like brothers. Though, he was younger than many of the patrol members, they still respected his authority (unless the matter was not serious) and trusted him. In over a year of commanding the outrider of the Prince of Rohan, Herebrand had never lost a man. Several had received minor wounds, and a former patrol member had been wounded badly (through fault of his own), but never had a Rider of Rohan under his command lost their life. He was proud that he had managed his patrol so well. This assignment would be no different from any other; he would not lose any of his brothers-in-arms.

At length, his doubts receded into the outskirts of his mind, conveniently when he reached the outskirts of the ruined city. In daylight, the city seemed abandoned, but peaceful, but at night, it was entirely different. It had almost an ancient regal look to it that was almost ghostly. Herebrand shivered, either because of a swift chill of wind that had come up, or becaues his misgvings were beginning to arise again. He slowly proceeded to the square, admiring the old Gondorian architect that was now falling into disrepair. Suddenly, the Rohirrim captain saw the shadow of a man created by the dim moonlight near the waterless fountain. Cold fear swept over him for a moment before his bravery replaced it. Stepping forward and drawing his hunting-knife (more like a short dagger) and called out to the wraith in his characteristic clear voice.

“Ho there, who wanders the street of Calembel this night?”

[Kryssal]

Laurel had spoken of the group getting to know each other but talking, but Lanaey never did like to talk much to others. Since her camp was near the town centre she didn't have far to go when everyone started moving away from the fountain. Some of these men aren't here simply to help, but then again, neither am I, in a way. Looking out over the land, Lanaey felt the pull of nature on her. It whispered of comfort and peace that would help her if she let it, but she wouldn't. Yes, the land would be a solace, but I neither need nor want it. What of the land that isn't peaceful and is instead full of pain and toil? Like Alphirion...

Mentally shaking herself, Lanaey went about bringing back up her little fire provide a little warmth. Sitting by the little fire she chewed on some dried fruit pieces and occasionally sipped from her water bag. Glancing around Lanaey noticed that the sheild madien Jess and her brother Cartil were accross the town centre from her, having what looked like an impromptu little fight, but she could tell that it was all done in good humor.

Getting up and stretching she went over to her horse and started rubbing Drass down again to fill her hands with something useful. The firm strokes repetitively went over Drass' back as Lanaey worked. Letting her mind focus on nothing as she brushed her horse, Lanaey found herself smiling in the simple pleasure of it. Once she was done she found herself walking over to the old fountain. It must have been so beautiful once with water falling gracefully from the heights to the shallows. Moving closer to the fountain Lanaey noticed worn figures carved into the sides and in the basin. Tracing her fingers along their dancing figures Lanaey marveled at how detailed the people had been in creating such a work. The small figures dancing about each other with clothes flowing and mouths smiling. I bet the water made them look alive, as if they were truly dancing in the basin at a festival.

A faint footfall, but Lanaey heard it and looked up to see one of the men approaching. As he came a little closer Lanaey could make out that it was Thagon, the one traveling with the shield-maiden Leena. She could have moved off to her camp, but something made her stay by the fountain. He had such an air of authority and surity about him, as if he always knew what he was doing. She could tell he was dedicated by the way that his armor had that new sheen look to it, but that he wasn't a coward in battle by the slightly worn look of that same armor.

She leaned against the fountain as he came up to her.

"Hello lady, my name is Thagon." He offered a hand, which Lanaey shook readily with an equally strong grip. "What brings you out?"

Lanaey placed a hand on the fountain. "Just admiring an ancient craft." She looked off into the night sky as he took a closer look at the carvings. Sighing, she turned back to the man who was talking again.

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Ransom]

Shortly after his twenty-third birthday, Thagon had served as part of King Elessar’s escort when the entire royal family had gone to visit Laketown, Dale, and the Lonely Mountain. While the King was haggling over a trade treaty with his dwarfish and human counterpart, the Queen had borrowed a small number of knights to take her to visit the elves of Mirkwood. However, she had neglected to plan any activities for her escorts, leaving them up to their own devices. As usual, the knights had dispersed and gathered as much information about the elves as possible. Gondor had little dealings with Rivendell and Lorien, and their knowledge of the denizens of Mirkwood was similarly murky.

Thagon quickly glanced at the woman before turning his attention back to the sky. It was quite amazing how much you could learn from quick glances if you knew what to look for. The only thing he could discern at the moment was that she was one of the elvish women he had briefly seen earlier. Even if he knew more about elves, the lack of light completely precluded any attempts to discern her place of birth. He was fairly certain that she didn’t know much more about the situation than he did. His moment of pondering was interrupted a series of footfalls and a gruff voice.

“Ho, there, who wanders the streets of Calembel this night?”

Thagon slowly turned and appraised the new visitor, his right arm rising with its own volition to the hilt of his bastard sword. It wasn’t that he expected to be attacked. Only a green assassin would announce his presence to the world. Still, a soldier didn’t stay alive by being foolish.

“Put away your knife, neighbor Herebrand. The Valar know you’ll be using them more than you like. Its only a pair of fellow campaigners milking the last few moments of peace out of the night.”

The captain of Rohan narrowed his eyes, but sheathed his dagger. “And you would be?”

Thagon banged his gauntlet against the breastplate, causing a loud metal bang to reverberate through the town center. No one had ever complained that plate mail was too quite. “Sir Thagon Kestner, neighbor. Come join us.”

“Aye, ‘tis a beautiful night, and good campaigning weather too.” observed Herebrand. “But we haven’t nearly enough enemy about our foes.”

Lanaey turned to face the two soldiers. “Maybe Laurel doesn’t know any more than she’s told us. She surely wouldn’t withhold information.”

Herebrand frowned. “Aye, but something doesn’t smell right. A band of ruffians would attack the town en masse, not a few at a time.

“Perhaps they expected a village of soft peasants. But why keep on attacking them?”

The three adventurers lapsed back into silence, pondering the day’s events under the brilliant moon.

[ March 18, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey observed the two men that seemed so eager for battle. Well, not so much for battle as justice. They didn't like the idea of an innocent village being wiped out even more than she did. It was amazing how one little thing could bring so many different types of beings together in one place. Elves and men, they always seemed to be pushed together to help innocents, and neither side really knew why. Lanaey didn't even really understand why she was there. Lately she had been doing things that seemed out of character and she just couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. After this was all over she needed to go into isolation for awhile to meditate and work out what she really needed. Until she could get away she needed to keep herself in tight reign, otherwise she might give away something of herself to a member of the company that she didn't want let out.

Thagon shifted position and Lanaey instantly observed him. Thagon seemed familiar somehow. She couldn't place from where though, maybe that was why she was talking to him right now, to figure out who he was? It was definetly bothering her that she couldn't remember from where she had met him before, usually she had an excellent memory for people.

Closing her mind for a brief moment, she drank in the night air about her to help clarify her mind. After she had it cleared, she gathered only the information that she wanted to dissect to the fore of her conscious mind. There was an obvious connection in the information somewhere that they were all missing.

....A band of ruffians would attack the town en masse......Perhaps they expected a village of soft peasants....

What did it lead to? A personal vendetta perhaps?

"What was that?" Herebrand startled her. Lanaey hadn't realized that she had spoken out loud. She mentally kicked herself for letting herself get soft. The peaceful environment must have been affecting her more than she first realized. Blocking out her nature senses, she focused on the beings before her.

"They must have a leader, otherwise they would have done just what you said they would, attack en masse." Lanaey paused for a moment. "But why go against the little village of Alphirion? The leader must have some connection to it."

[ March 18, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel watched as the figure came into view. It was Annunfuin, the warrior of Gondor. She calmed herself, knowing he definitely saw her startled. She bowed her head at the ocean as he muttered to her "I'm sorry, Milady, I didn't mean to disturb you and I only ended up here by coincidence. I was seeking solitude myself... But I heard your voice and it enchanted me." "And I meant what I said." He said again after a pause.

Laurel turned to the man. His features had been worn from time, his hair thin and flowing in the night. His guard uniform had seen many battles, but they showed honour and gallantry. A small smile was on his face. Looking into his eyes, she saw things that were unmistakable ‘Time has come to him’ she thought ‘He is missing things…as I am’ She thought of her prayer being that of a Queen’s, and shook her head slightly. Striving with his great grey eyes, she found the thing she missed. "If I had a daughter she would most likely be quite like you" he said, almost dreamily. Laurels heart leapt ‘Did he hear my thoughts! Dear Vali!’ she grew flushed. She lowered her head again, only to find a wave of comfort come down upon her, and take away all fear. She looked at his smile. ‘My father’ she thought, and fought back tears. "And once there was a time when I thought that my prayers would be answered...". ‘My father, oh!’ she cried out in her mind. She turned back to him. ‘You are a good man, Annunfuin. I am glad that you came. My prayers have been answered in many ways. I have also asked that there would be souls that were as valiant as those that have died defending the forest, to help me now’ She paused long ‘What would this man think of me if I told him?’ her heart bled, and she could not hold herself back.

‘In truth, good sir, you bear a spirit like my father. He was taken from me long ago, to the same Wildmen we fight now. His good heart and smile are like yours and…’ she put a hand to her mouth. He moved forward. She raised her hand, and lifted her head, with tears down her cheeks, and a resolute smile ‘And so, at dawn after a council we leave for that place. I sense that my grandmother needs me’ Again shame welled in her and she tore at herself for being so emotional ‘This is not like me at all Sir. Forgive me, and, fair rest to thee’

As she turned, she saw the movement of a figure. She again felt her heart pulse, but calmed it, assuring herself it was a simple woodland creature. She began to retreat from the set gaze of Annunfuin, but before she could he said…

[Taralphiel]

Her seat had grown old, she thought. Her fingers traced the fine etchings on the dark wood, straight from the forest when it was made. She saw the small moonstones set into the arms and top. But the Great Seat was wearing, its arms showed varnish peeled away, and fading. Easing herself down, Taralphiel looked out at her house. Furnished with wood from the forest, dark and light, with light and beautiful draperies from the village weavers, the low ceilings were supported by thin columns, with detailed carvings at the top of the patron creature. Their slender beaks held gossamer-like curtains that trailed to the ground of the open end of the house that had no walls, and peered out onto the sea after the cliff. This end was a large open area that was elevated from the rest of the house that went under the shade of the forest. Three small steps lead down to the many rooms of the long place of refuge.

Taralphiel listened, and could hear the whisperings and laughter of little children. Her eyes narrowed, and a weary smile crept onto her face. ‘Our house is full of children dear heart, the house you helped to build’ she murmured. This refuge was a labor of love. The first people who came here with Taralphiel, including Havlor, were craftsmen and builders. They sought to build a place that would stand the test of the ages, and be something to wonder at. They had succeeded. Taralphiel drew her memory back to watching them slave over the edge of the cliffside, lifting the beams into place. And she remembered the contented smile on her husband as he helped. ‘Yes, I wish you could be here, to see all the beauty that has come from this place, to have seen your children, and to see your granddaughter’

A man rushed in through the hallways and struggled to the seat of the Lady of the House. ‘Milady, they’re here again, they’re at the Southern Confines!!’ he was trying to breathe, and his face was stained with blood and dirt. His sword had seen much torment. She closed her eyes and gripped at the arms of her chair. ‘We can do nothing.’ She whispered. The mans eyes grew wide and he went pale ‘Nothing, Milady?’ ‘Laurel is not here’ she straightened ‘Havlor is wounded, how many more do we have?’ ‘Maybe a dozen ma’am’ he said shaking. Taralphiel reached down beside her chair. From it came her sword, unnamed, but never forgotten by those who saw it. The dark hilt gave no light and the grip curled over at the top. Between the hilt and the blade was a moonstone of exceeding pale brilliance. The blade was white and bright, and sang lamentation. The man stepped back. ‘B-but milady!’

‘Keep a messenger aside’ she said darkly ‘If he comes to me then I know that I will have to come to fight alongside you, I will not run’ The man left in a flurry, leaving Taralphiel standing there, alone, set as stone.

[Thalionyulma]

Figures could be seen trotting side by side silently along the hidden pathways of the woods. It had been a long journey, but something drove them southwards from their home in the northern eaves of the Greenwood. They had avoided most of the patrols of the northern kingdom of Thranduil, feeling no allegiance to their distant kin. Their people, the dark elves, have always kept themselves apart preferring to live alone in caves or in very small groups that traveled often, hunting.

Though they lived a solitary life as most dark elves of their kind, something drove them southward. At first neither had told of the other of dreams each had. But both had like mind, as their parents had once commented. Eventually both decided to take the journey to unknown paths southward.

Both were clad in leather dyed green and brown, matching their surroundings. Though they carried bows, it was unstrung for the moment and slung behind their backs. The taller of the two had his long dark hair tied back, while the younger had his dark tresses flowing freely, shoulder length.

“Brother, do we continue this path long?” asked the younger of the two, it was near dusk. They stopped eventually near a stream and refilled their waterskins.

“This is no longer familiar woodland, Galain,” said Gorath, the younger after awhile.

“Have I ever told you, brother, that you talk to much for an elf?” Chided his older brother, smiling slightly. “Let us rest here tonight, I weary of your chatter.”

Gorath raised his brow slightly at the light banter of his older sibling. He let his gaze absorb their surroundings. Westward he saw through elven eyes, a marsh or field that was filled with yellow irises. He had heard of the place – Leog Ningloron in their tongue, the Gladden Fields. They began their scant meal of nuts, berries and some dried meat. Tomorrow they would hunt and forage once more as they continued their journey.

“Something-“ Gorath was cut off by a sudden cracking of twigs. They both turned towards the sound, reaching for their hunting knives.

An elf stood near an elm. He was clad similarly as they, and they recognized him as another of their kin. He too was dark-haired and grey-eyed. A bejeweled hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, his bow was strung but he made no move to attack them. He watched them closely, leaning on the trunk of the tree. It was his eyes, they could see, that betrayed his alertness.

“I would know your line and purpose. Not many of our kind travel in haste in this part of Mirkwood, “the elf spoke to them quietly after a long moment.

“Who might you be, dark elf, to ask us such?” Replied Galain in answer.

“I am Rûdhchamion, and my kin once lived here,” came the amused answer.

“Are you not the son of Brilgonion?”

The dark elf chuckled and revealed himself in the fading light of dusk. Only those of his kin would know he was the striking resemblance of his father, as his sister was that of their mother.

“Aye, that I am Galain of the North, my father’s sister’s son,” he smiled slightly. “ It is a rare thing to see one’s kin so far away from their abode.”

Gorath’s eyes widened in recognition. It had been ages! The brothers had only been a few summers old when Rûdhchamion had met them at the northern part of Anduin. They had hunted together, and their older cousin had taught them how to fish using their bows and arrows, and patiently guided them at tracking down large game.

They soon made camp and began their tales. Rûdhchamion was heading south he told them, to visit an old friend he had not seen for a long while. They told him of their restlessness and their dreams. He listened to their tales silently.

“We travel the same roads for now, perhaps the purpose shall be revealed soon. An urgency drives me as well southward,” their older cousin said thoughtfully.

With that they rested quietly and decided to resume their journey southward in the morning.

[Annunfuiniel]

"You are a good man, Annunfuin. I am glad that you came. My prayers have been
answered in many ways. I have also asked that there would be souls that were as
valiant as those that have died defending the forest, to help me now" Laurel fell
silent and Annunfuin turned back to her. He couldn’t find the right words to answer
although they were there in his heart. "In truth, good sir, you bear a spirit like my
father. He was taken from me long ago, to the same Wildmen we fight now. His
good heart and smile are like yours and…" Annunfuin felt Laurel’s pain as if it was
his own but his tongue was still tied. And Laurel drew back; he could tell she
regretted showing her emotions. "And so, at dawn after a council we leave for
that place. I sense that my grandmother needs me" Tears on her cheeks
shimmered like jewels reflecting the light of the full moon. "This is not like me at all
Sir. Forgive me, and, fair rest to thee" She turned to leave but then finally
Annunfuin got his words back.

"Laurel..." Annunfuin whispered in a thick voice. Laurel halted but she didn’t
turn to him. "Milady...", he continued, "I’m more practiced in using my sword than
words and now I feel helpless. I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories for
your burden is heavy already. But now I know why I had to join this quest." The
voices in the wind! Now I see. "This is not the first time I hear your prayer. I
heard your call a long time ago but didn’t understand what it meant. Still I had to
follow it and now I’m glad that I did." And as he had said this it was like a dry
stick had been added in an almost burnt out ember and the fire rekindled. Annunfuin stepped closer to Laurel who had now again turned to face him.

Her eyes were green and sparkling like emeralds as the tears still made them
gleam. Annunfuin reached for his pocket and drew out a fine linen kerchief
with silver and blue leaves and the letter 'L' embellished on it. He set it in Laurel’s hand. "My heart is now lightened and I thank thee for it. We have both lost those we loved, they are gone... But their words and faces, their love still lives in your heart as in mine. And the tears you shed while you remember them are blessed."
Annunfuin bowed his head and then lifted his eyes once more to meet Laurel’s. "I
believe it’s time to retreat to rest or the sun will meet us in the same place where
it left us." Laurel stood in silence but then nodded reluctantly. Annunfuin knew her feelings for countless questions stirred also his mind; but now was not the right moment. "May Lórien guard your dream", he spoke and then returned to the shadows from where he had come.

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Taralphiel]

"Laurel..." His voice came out just over a whisper, but Laurel felt his pain and could not help but hear. "Milady..." he tried again with effort "I’m more practiced in using my sword than words and now I feel helpless. I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories for your burden is heavy already. But now I know why I had to join this quest."
"This is not the first time I hear your prayer. I heard your call a long time ago but didn’t understand what it meant. Still I had to follow it and now I’m glad that I did."

Laurel turned to face Annunfuin. His worn face was strained, and she could see the emotions he was trying to express. Tears still ran from her face, and she tried to suppress them. ‘What does this mean Annunfuin?’ she thought to herself. She too found that her words would not form, and she felt helplessness over her heart. Annunfuin stepped forward and drew in her hand. She looked down to see a beautiful silk kerchief, delicately emblazoned with leaves and the letter ‘L’. She raised her head to see his kind smile, and understanding eyes. She thought of telling him all her pains, removing the ghosts from burdening her. He whispered to her:

"My heart is now lightened and I thank thee for it. We have both lost those we loved, they are gone... But their words and faces, their love still live in your heart as in mine. And the tears you shed while you remember them are blessed." Laurel felt those ghosts lighten, and turn to loving arms around her. She heard her fathers’ voice coming through the mist, and felt her pain melt. He looked at her and said "I believe it’s time to retreat to rest or the sun will meet us in the same place whereit left us. May Lórien guard your dream" And with that he moved silently away.

Laurel stood there, alone in the moonlight. Her tears did not subside, but she clutched the kerchief, and smiled. ‘You are a good man Annunfuin’ she whispered into the night ‘And I now know my prayers were not in vain’

Laurel slept soundly that night, the Gondorian’s smile and kind words giving her the most pleasant sleep she had had in a long time.

[Taralphiel]

But he had not come. Taralphiel stood there till her legs would no longer support her. By now, her maids had come in. The pale faced beauties had sorrow in their eyes as they helped her to her room deep within the house. Many of these maids there were, orphans of the first attacks of the Raiders, brought up in the house, Taralphiel their only mother. Children still came here, without anyone to care for them, and the big house was never empty. Children of the Swan they were, and their upbringing could not be finer, but wished it could not have been necessary.

Taralphiel lay on her bed, but it took them a might of effort to make her release her sword. ‘They will send for me’ she growled to the walls. The chief maiden smiled sadly ‘The battle is over Milady. It ended through the night. Three men came back. Your messenger…had an arrow through his back’ and at that she retreated in tears. Sitting there silently, Taralphiel looked down at the sheets of her bed, then over to her shelves of books. Lore of Elves, healing arts, customs of every nation, Battle tactics of Rohirrim, and more were there ‘Yet what good do they do me!’ she sighed, and lay her head down. Thoughts and memories swirled through her head. She remembered the White City, and its beautiful banners. She remembered the depths of Mirkwood, and the people that lived therein. She remembered the three that saved her in that forest, and helped her find her imprisoned husband. The dark stare of Rudchamion, the dark elf with no past. The tender smile of Anarya, elf of Mirkwood, and Khelek, the valiant wolf, who understood her ills. Her face brightened for a moment. ‘Oh, that I could only talk to them, they would help me’ she then fell asleep, and relived her adventures in Mirkwood. Outside the maidens watched and smiled then went about their work in silence. Soon the wounded came in to the various rooms of the houses, and were tended to, some in vain. That night the breeze floated through the forest, and a mood was there that no one could mistake, death had been and gone, and misery was left. When Taralphiel woke, she gave farewells to their spirits in a quick ceremony. Many were proud that their sons, husbands, or brothers were being kept in the gardens of the Lady they loved. But the swan lady found little solace, even in a house full of children. She soon made for the swan village, on the beginning of the Plains of Dor-En-Ernil.

The ride was no more than a day for a rider inexperienced in weaving through the paths of this forest, but for the convoy of horses of the Swan Lady, it was reduced to hours. Arriving in the village, she sought out each family of each man that had fought, and wept with them. Then she hurried to the house of Havlor, and his wife Firwyn. Long had they been great companions. Havlor and his wife were the first to join her and Eriador in Dor-En-Ernil, and their son, Havor, had married Taralphiel’s daughter Estelle, and had Taralphiel’s only grandchild. She had also known Havlor in Calembel. That was not a wonderful thought to remember. Havlor’s father had sought to have them wed, but instead, Taralphiel had married Eriador, and ran from the town, leaving Havlor broken-hearted. ‘That was a long time ago, old fool’ she thought to herself ‘Leave it away where it was, and tend to your dying friend’

Entering, she saw a snow haired woman sitting by the hearth, head bowed in prayer. Looking up, tears stained her cheeks ‘Oh Lady!’ she wept, and Taralphiel embraced her. ‘I am so sorry I did not come sooner. Forgive me’ she whispered through her own tears. Firwyn shook her head ‘You belong at you house, but while you are here, you are welcome in this house’ Then Firwyn showed Taralphiel into the bedchambers, where Havlor lay. He was as pale as the moon, and a shadow of his former strength. No one knew what gave him such vigour in his old age to be bale to fight, but now, it was gone. He opened his eyes slowly and his cracked and broken face moved to a smile ‘My Lady Taralphiel!’ he breathed. She sat by his bed and took his hands. Staring into his face, she saw the look of Mandos peering over him, leading him away. She sighed and turned back to where Firwyn stood, her hands wrung tightly at her chest. Her face was red and eyes blotchy, and a sad smile graced her. ‘It does him good to see you’ she said, and left them.


Turning back, Taralphiel tried a jovial smile ‘And how have you been, dear old friend?’
He started slowly ‘Well enough. Though they won’t let me out for some fresh air. I wish to see the plains and the rivers, and to watch for the White Tower again’. ‘The White Tower is far from here’ she said to him. ‘Yes I know, but it strikes my heart Milady’ he looked at her. ‘I lived there for so long, my heart broken, for you were not with me’. ‘Havlor…’ she began ‘-But there I found a woman so wonderful and beautiful, that my heart was full again’ he croaked. Taralphiel beamed; glad he was not dwelling on what happened in Calembel so long ago. ‘Firwyn is my life and light, I wish never to be away from her again. This is my punishment, for leaving her too often to fight, and show the young men how to hold a sword instead of a rake, as only we know how’ Havlor looked at her solemnly. ‘Yes, it is true that we are the last of that old code’ she began ‘But I see it alive in Laurel’ she said. ‘Yes, our granddaughter is a fine fighter, though she does not know it. And a fine Lady too. I see great things for her, if you let her’ he said. ‘Let her?’ asked Taralphiel. ‘Well, she has been fighting for this place so long that she has nothing else. She should be married, have children, but she has none. I want her to know the happiness we had, and out children too’ he said. His eyes were full of a grey sadness. Taralphiel put a hand to her heart ‘I did not even think of that, old friend. I didn’t realise the life she was giving up, for she never said anything of it. What a fool I am!’ she cried in pain. Havlor raised his hand ‘No, you are not. Your house is the best place for a child to grow up. And even better for them to learn of the world. I would have every child of the village be fortunate enough to grow there. But she needs to go out into the world, to see it with her own eyes, and then she will know the joys we have’ he stopped. Taralphiel laughed ‘Again, I am so sorry! I did not tell you! Laurel is out seeing the world! As we speak she is arriving in Calembel!’. ‘What?’ said Havlor in happy surprise. Taralphiel nodded ‘I sent pleas to Gondor, Rohan, and the remaining Elves, to aid our fight. You know as well as I that we need more fighting men. Laurel will bring them back here’

‘My, this is wonderful news!’ Havlor looked like a child ‘My granddaughter will see the village that we grew up in, where you met Eriador, and where our adventures began! And she will see the White Towers! Oh, that was my wish for her! To see that most beautiful city as I used to. You did a good thing Milady! Your daughter, and my son, would be proud’. Taralphiel felt tears well up ‘Our children…’ Long had she mourned for both their souls. Havor, the open-faced and bright young man, and her Esteliel, the graceful maid of a thousand beauties. They had died together, and their pain hurt her still. For it was added onto by the death of her son, Ithilien, her shining warrior, strong and wise. He fell the same way they all did, by the darts or swords of the Wild Men. She looked at Havlor ‘Not another’ she thought. She squeezed his hand ‘Listen to me Havlor. You must get strong, and be brave. You need to see Laurel, and our great grandchildren!’ ‘Ah! Don’t you worry!’ he chuckled ‘I’ll be up in no time! But hear me, I hear those Elvish healers are fine. Wouldn’t mind one ‘o them looking me over’ he grinned, and coughed heavily ‘I’ll do all I can, dear Havlor! You sleep now’ she kissed his hand, and left the room.

‘Well?’ Firwyn asked anxiously. ‘He is trying to mend’ Taralphiel said carefully. ‘Will he?’ she said, on the brink of hysterics. ‘I am going to send over Elven healers as soon as they arrive’ and she explained Laurels absence to her. Firwyn gave the maternal glow, and Taralphiel could not help but beam herself ‘My, I am proud of her!’ she said. Taralphiel then settled down on the warm hearth, and there she would sit for a long time, in deep discussion with a woman of great strength.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel made her way to the dawn council she had organised. The town was waking and its beauty was beginning to sink deep beneath her veins. She had just been at the hill overlooking the plains, and seen the white city at dawn. Her grandfather Havlor told her it was the greatest sight in the entire world, and made you want to protect the City till the day you died. Laurel stood there, and looked at the mountains creep down and nestle against the stone of pure white. She scanned the buildings of serene beauty, their tall spires calling to the Gods of the sky. The banners and standards of Gondor were straight in the wind. Laurel felt her breath escape her. The light made all the city glow with purity, and her eyes were fixed ‘I would die for that city’ she thought. She imagined the White tree, sitting in its place in the great courtyard, brimming with hope for all time. And she remembered the stories of the Great King, rising to his throne for the first time, and the tears that flowed like water on the dawn of the new age. ‘I have seen it, dear grandfather’ she mumbled to herself ‘now I know. I will fight for it if ever given the chance, but my greater need now, if for the small White House of the Lady of the Swan’

Laurel took her place by the high seat in Calembel. Elves and Men all filed around. Annunfuin stood at the front, a small smile spread on his face. Laurel smiled at him and then spoke ‘I have called this final council before we leave. I ask of and queries that you may have of our journey. Most were told in the pleas, and have already met your ears. Speak now, and all will be made known’

Slowly voices rose up…

[Ransom]

Thagon futilely tried to suppress a yawn before rubbing his eyes with the back of his metal gauntlets. Leena was a light sleeper, and even a hardened knight could not get a good night’s sleep when his tent mate was constantly striking him with her hands and feet. As usual, he had risen before sunrise, carefully donning his plate mail armor. However, before strapping the heavy breastplate over his suit of chain mail, he had donned a thin black surcoat that fell to his knees over his chain mail. It looked and sounded impressive when a knight went clanging around in armor, but it was quite another when your stealthy advance was foiled because your breastplate decided to fraternize with your suit of chain mail. His hands pulled the dark green riding cloak tighter around him. While the weather was looking up, the morning was still quite chilly.

He stiffened as a he heard a soft, mocking whisper behind him. “Did you have a good night, dear knight?”

The smell of wildflowers left little doubt about the identity of the person behind him. “No, priestess, I did not sleep well last night. But be quite now. The council’s starting.”

“I have called this final council before we leave. I ask of and queries that you may have of our journey. Most were told in the pleas, and have already met your ears. Speak now, and all will be made known”

Sir Kestner coughed loudly, not so subtly indicating that he wished to speak. “Lady, I am as eager as any other to aid your village, but I am wary to rush into combat without more information. All we know is that a strange force has launched a series of escalating assaults on your village.”

“Captain Herebrand, Lady Lanaey, and I were discussing the situation last night before we took to our beds. Normal bandits do not attack people villages one at a time, and they certainly do not launch escalating assaults. Something is amiss. It would greatly help us if you could describe your attacks. How do they fight? Do they attack from the woodlands or the plains? What kind of weapons do they use?”

Leena winked at her friend before addressing Laurel. “I cannot say whether Sir Kestner is correct in his questions, but I am somewhat curious about your settlement. Where do you take the women and children during the raids?”

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Elfhelm]

Save
Herebrand-Night Conversation through Council

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Elfhelm ]

[Taralphiel]

“Lady, I am as eager as any other to aid your village, but I am wary to rush into combat without more information. All we know is that a strange force has launched a series of escalating assaults on your village. Captain Herebrand, Lady Lanaey, and I were discussing the situation last night before we took to our beds. Normal bandits do not attack people villages one at a time, and they certainly do not launch escalating assaults. Something is amiss. It would greatly help us if you could describe your attacks. How do they fight? Do they attack from the woodlands or the plains? What kind of weapons do they use?” Thagon asked eagerly. Laurel nodded and was about to speak when Leena moved politely “I cannot say whether Sir Kestner is correct in his questions, but I am somewhat curious about your settlement. Where do you take the women and children during the raids?”

Laurel spoke then: ‘Thankyou for asking Sir Thagon and Lady Leena. Indeed these enemies are unlike conventional enemies such as Uruk-Hai. These Wildmen use very little tactics, with the exception of barbarism. The only pattern that they attack the village as well as the forest from somewhere over the plain. They know we are in there, to be plain. That seems to be their goal. Organisation of their rabble is weak. They fight with broad swords, but are not exceptionally skilled. Almost all deaths occur from small poisonous darts they carry. Mandos takes slowly those who fall to them’ she murmured darkly.

‘To answer your questions Lady Leena, women and children flee to the House of the Swan Lady at the end of the point of Dor-En-Ernil, deep in the forest. But sometimes they cannot get there in time’ Laurel balled her fist behind her riding robes ‘They spare none. So far, our organisation has been to post as many people who can fight at the village and also in the eaves of the forest to fend them off. But our forces are spent, and they will come for the last time soon, if we do not help’

She waited for other to speak…

[Lyra Greenleaf]

“It looks quite nice” whispered Elena quietly, her eyes flicking around the room in which she sat. Despite her brave words her voice held a hint of nervousness and uncertainness. “What do you think?”
Elena paused, as if she was actually waiting for the doll to answer, although she knew she wouldn’t. The room, in fact the whole house, was so different to the house she had grown up in. It all felt very strange to her, especially since she had no-one else to talk to. Somehow, talking to Della felt like she could be talking to her uncle, who had carved her. Elena felt lonely, and she didn’t like it. Growing up there had always been someone to talk to, uncles, aunts, cousins and of course her Papa. He was in the room next door now, speaking to the people who owned this house.

“This is so good of you” she heard him say.
“It is nothing, for a friend” a voice replied, the man.
“His voice is all grumbly and rumbly” whispered Elena. “Just like a bear! I wonder if he eats children?”
She shivered, but it was a fun sort of fear. Really she knew he would not eat her, Papa said he had lots of children himself.
“Lots and lots of children! Maybe about fifty” she whispered to Della.

"How old is your daughter?” asked a female voice.
“She is just eight” replied Papa.
“The same age as our Fiona. That will be good, for both of them I hope. Fiona is so wild, her best friends are her brothers”

Elena shivered again. A wild girl? “Maybe she’ll be the one to eat me!” she told Della wide-eyed.

“I know that Elena misses her cousins. I think that it’s having a bad influence on her.”
Papa sighed. Elena wanted to run through and comfort him, but she had been told to sit still. She sat carefully with her feet together and hands in her lap. Della was resting on her arms.
“She used to be a normal child, running around the farm getting mucky. Then we had the fire.”
He sighed again. It sounded so loud that it might blow all the leaves off all the trees in the village. Elena smiled to think of all the bare trees.
“It seemed like something changed then” he continued “now she barely moves in case she musses her dress”

Elena wanted to go and tell him that she just wanted to be good, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her. Ever since she could remember he had had bushy black hair, now it was going grey and he had lots of little lines on his forehead that were not there before. Sometimes when Elena sat on his lap she traced the lines with her fingertip. They were like trails marked on a map.

“Elena?”
The bear voice was in the room now, making Elena jump. She clutched Della closer.
“Hello Elena” said the woman. Elena thought her voice sounded like a princess or something, maybe an Elf. Maybe she was descended from Elves! Maybe she is an Elf princess really and they will come and collect her and I’ll see their shining white horses, she told Della, but silently. Elena wasn’t ready to talk to her best friend in front of these new people yet.
“Hello” she answered softly, her blue eyes fixed on the ground.
“I hope you’ll be very happy here”
“Thank you” Elena replied politely, but inside she doubted it.

[maikafanawen]

Searching the eyes of the people in the room, Annanoldowen noticed that they were all trying to think of a question that they wanted answered before they left on this expedition. The feeling when there were so many questions to ask that weren’t entirely formed in the mind was obvious on everyone’s face. Laurel sat in the chair opposite the group and answered patiently the little questions that were asked. Annanoldowen knew of the odds they were against and their advantages and disadvantages. There was, however, one question to which the answer was hazy. This question was directed to the whole of the people before her. Her voice broke through the momentary silence like a summer breeze in a meadow, soft and calming.

“There is something that has not been clarified. We have all been summoned here to help rid Alphirion of these marauding foes? In this room are collectively the best warriors of Middle Earth. Gondorians, Rohirrim, a few elves.” She nodded in turn to each category of aid in the room. “It is to my understanding that your people have been fighting this enemy for a recent amount of time but using different battle tactics. All have failed so you called for help. Only fifty percent of your plea has been answered though. The givers of assistance have arrived, but will it be enough? What methods shall they take to give true help?

“We will need time to become familiar with the geography.” She paused then, her eyes looking into the faces of every soldier before her, but not seeing them. Instead she was looking inside her mind, picturing the forest again that she had seen so long ago. The elf nodded then, a fateful smile crossing her face, “Time. Laurel? How much time do we have? How many people are left in Swan Wood?” The council became silent as Laurel addressed them precisely.

[Manardariel]

She was getting a sister, one her age, even! Fiona had been pleased when her father had told her aabout it. A new friend, with who she could gang up against Rian. Two people could win fights again one older brother much easier then one, that was a fact. And besides, maybe she would finally be able to move out of her little chamber into the big room, with her new sister. Yes, Fiona was sure, she would like having a sister.

Maybe that was why she was so dissapointed now. Sitting in the treehouse with Porridge and Shadow, she peeped down in the house. The girl was sitting in her luggage, cluchting to a doll of all things. A doll. A little doll with a little dress and "cute" little braids.

She had to take a closer look at this. She quickly climbed dow the tree, her hair getting caught in an overhanging branch. She tugged a bid, and ripped her dress in the effort. When she finally reached the ground she looked like a scarecrow, but didn´t even notice. Instead, she just casually strolled over to the house. She entered, ignored Rian´s horrified glance at her looks and stepped in front of the new girl.

"Hi," she said "I´m Fiona, who are you?"

[ March 27, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil could not hold his tongue any longer. He had done so in attempt to learn something of what he had come for and why.

“It is to my understanding that your people have been fighting this enemy for a recent amount of time but using different battle tactics. All have failed so you called for help. Only fifty percent of your plea has been answered though. The givers of assistance have arrived, but will it be enough? What methods shall they take to give true help?” One elf, though Cartil could not remember her name, spoke.

Cartil considered this. Yes, the group had been gathered to help, but what would a few humans and elves do to help that many residents of the wood could not? How would they find a way to rid the enemy if every other plausible way had been tried, or at least considered?

“We will need time to become familiar with the geography.” The elf continued, and at this, Jess snapped back out of a daydream of sorts. Cartil had been gone from home long enough to forget the land, but Jess had been through the woods and the areas around it, especially her home in Tarnost, enough times to remember most of it.

“Time. Laurel? How much time do we have? How many people are left in Swan Wood?”

Jess opened her mouth to speak, but Cartil frowned and she was silent. Cartil decided to speak while he still had the chance.

“How can we help in a way that the residents could not?” Cartil voiced, before Laurel could answer the elf.

“The children,” Jess began, not able to stay quiet. “We should evacuate them, at least. Minas Tirith would welcome them, I’m sure. And geography should not be a problem, what with Laurel here with us. I’ll help too, as much as I can. I know enough about the northern confines of the forest and the surrounding areas.”

[Taralphiel]

Laurel heard Annanoldowen’s melodic voice cut the air “There is something that has not been clarified. We have all been summoned here to help rid Alphirion of these marauding foes? In this room are collectively the best warriors of Middle Earth. Gondorians, Rohirrim, a few elves. It is to my understanding that your people have been fighting this enemy for a recent amount of time but using different battle tactics. All have failed so you called for help. Only fifty percent of your plea has been answered though. The givers of assistance have arrived, but will it be enough? What methods shall they take to give true help? We will need time to become familiar with the geography.” Laurel thought of her foes, and what little time left, and hear heart began to race

Annanoldowen spoke again “Time. Laurel? How much time do we have? How many people are left in Swan Wood?” Laurel was about to speak when Cartil’s strong voice broke in “How can we help in a way that the residents could not?” Then, a cry came from the back of the crowd. Jess stepped forward “The children. We should evacuate them, at least. Minas Tirith would welcome them, I’m sure. And geography should not be a problem, what with Laurel here with us. I’ll help too, as much as I can. I know enough about the northern confines of the forest and the surrounding areas.” The crowd began to murmur in nervousness. Laurel stood up from her chair and spoke as clearly as she could muster

‘I shall answer all good friends. Lady Annanoldowen, it is true that many tactics have been used to try and stop these forces to no avail. But what we lacked were sheer number of experienced fighters. The Lady believes that is the key to the success of any tactic used against them. That should comfort you Sir Cartil’ Laurels heart slowed down after remembering her grandmothers soothing old voice ‘As for time, we have none. I can almost be certain they have attacked since I left. We must soon make haste. But for your question Lady Jesslyn, most children are orphans and in the Swan House, and that is reasonably safe. But our pleas to the villagers and their families to flee have fell on deaf ears. They believe they will be delivered, or will fight themselves. I cannot explain it, and it hurts me to see them suffer, but I cannot make them go’ she stopped, then gathered her thoughts.

‘We shall pack and leave now’ she bowed slightly, and left the house.

[Kryssal]

Lanaey had stayed in the back of the council, simply observing those around her without contributing anything. She had talked enough last night and didn't feel like talking at all. Glancing around she looked at the anticipatory faces and the reserved ones. Laurel looked different from last night, as if she had given something up or had a confirmation. Maybe a mixture of the two or neither of them. Lanaey shrugged off her indifference and shifted her position as the humans and elf spoke their pieces. Human's were so impatient sometimes. Lanaey decided that it must come from their youth.

Laurel seemed exceptionally worried about the farmers and such who wouldn't head their warning to go to safety. Lanaey thought that their leader was exceptionally emotional, but that was understandable. She was a young human who was fighting for her home and the life that was all she knew in this world. She could even be losing her friends and family at this very moment to the raiders, who seemed to be expert fighters capable of anything. Lanaey watched Laurel's back as she exited the meeting. Laurel was supressing many emotions as she left them all to get ready for the upcoming trek and not all of those emotions were evoked from this meeting.

Pivoting on her right foot, Lanaey turned and headed to her nearby little camp, gathering up everything. She hadn't been able to do her full excercises that morning, but that was to be expected. She had been able to get in the basic stretching ones, and figured that those would be the only ones she would be able to do for awhile. She had been constricted in her excercises by company campaigns before and it didn't really phase her.

"Heya Drass, now we ride some more," Lanaey spoke quietly in her horses ear. Drass stamped her foot, eager to be off, which brought a slight smile to the old elf's mouth. Drass always seemed ready for anything. Moving around her camp Lanaey gathered up all her belongings that weren't already packed away. She re-checked all her weapons and grabbed her two slender sticks that she hadn't already put in her hair. Twisting it up in two simple motions, the sticks were in place and now so was her long hair. Riding and fighting without worrying about simple little things like loose hair were good comforts in life. Gathering Drass' reigns she led her horse to where they were departing.

Looking about her Lanaey could feel the pull again. It was a pull to go outside of herself, and she resisted it with much effort. It felt as if her soul wanted to escape her corporeal being, but the mind fought it. Going still Lanaey had to literaly stop everything she was doing to focus soley on taking control of herself. As if grasping hold of something, she came almost violently back to herself. Tremoring slightly she gripped Drass' reigns and then the horse itself for support. Acting as if she were simply stroking Drass' neck Lanaey looked around to see if anyone had caught her in that moment of pure weakness. There were some people nearby, but none noticably looking at her. That quick survey satisfied Lanaey as she turned inward again to figure out what had just happened to her.

I've been drifting further and further as each night passes. I've never lost control of myself before though. The previous night Lanaey had blamed her sense of detachment on the environment around her, but now she knew it was much more serious and personal. It's inside of me . . . Suddenly Lanaey was frightened, this was something completely foreign to her, no emotion she had ever known before. Gathering every ounce of will power and strength that she had, Lanaey brought herself under control and sealed away the offending sense inside of her.

Petting Drass to quite the beasts fear for it's master, Lanaey looked out at the landscape before her.

[ March 28, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[ March 29, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena held Della tight, talking to an older girl called Rian. She was being very nice to Elena. Her voice made Elena think of butter sweets- sugary, syrupy but nice. She was very pretty and had a lovely dress on. Della wanted Elena to touch it, it looked so soft, but Elena refused. She didn't speak out loud though, because she didn't want this girl to think she was mad.

"Would you like some milk Elena?" asked rian with a smile. Elena nodded and rian left the room. Elena sat down on her box with a thud. She giggled, stood up and did it again.

"Hi!" someone said, surprising Elena so much she missed the box and sat on the floor. Blushing, she stood up and brushed her dress down. Without seeming to notice the girl continued.
"I´m Fiona, who are you?"
"E-Elena" she stuttered in return. This girl seemed nothing like Rian, her clothes were torn and dirty. Elena gulped. This was the wild girl!

Fiona continued chatting so fast that Elena's head span. She was confused, she didn't know what the girl was saying any more. Without realising she began to cry. Fiona stopped talking and stared disgustedly at her.

Sobbing Elena ran from the room, passing Rian in the hall and fled through the open door. Without stopping to think that she didn't know her way in the village she continued to run.

[ April 26, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel felt the wind again whip her face. They had ridden now, through the remainder of that day and into another. Laurel felt the urgenct drive at her, and did not stop. Only the great horse of Annanoldowen seemed not be be feeling the fatigue.

Laurel slowed her horse, and the others did likewise. The long plains of Gondor rolled out before them. She thought of the risk of camping for the night as her horse moved steadily along.

'I shall try for a few more hours. We need to make more ground' she said to herself

At that, someones horse rode up beside her, and a voice said...

[Manardariel]

"It´s not fair, it´s not fair, it´s not fair!"

Fiona yelled. She was sitting in her room, grounded by Rian, and she had no idea whatsoever what she had done! Grumbeling, she picked up one of the kittens that was balancing on the window-sill. "Oh, no, you´re staying in here. I need company." The kitten miaoud, but obeyed and cuddeled herself in Fiona´s lap.

"Say," the girl questioned, "Are you scared of me too? Do you run away when I talk to you?" The kitten gave her a look like she was mad. At that oment, someone knocked on her door. Her father entered, looking dead serious.

"Now, Fiona. I want you to tell me precisly what you sayed to Elenna. Everything.§

"Father, I swear, I wasn´t mean. I wasn´t even impolite. I remeberd my manners, I said please and thanky you, I was just trying to be nice."

"Yes, but what did you say?"

"Nothing! I talked about Porridge; and Shadow and her kittenskittens, about they boys and having my own room, with her; and about-"

She stopped. Her father was smiling down at her.

"That´s ok, Fiona. I see it wasn´t your fault. I don´t know what made Elenna run off..."

"Elenna? What a stupid name. It sounds so prissy. A prissy name for a prissy-"

"Fiona!"

"Sorry. And she´s run off?"

"Now young lady, I wan´t one thing clear. When Elenna comes back you be nice to her. Understood? NICE!"

"Yes, father. "

"Good. Now come down and help me look for her."

[Thalionyulma]

The three elves continued on southward, past the Gladden Fields. With Rûdhchamion leading them, they traveled along the Great River, Anduin. It took them several weeks, and for the first time the two elven brothers looked upon Ithilien. To the east they saw the Mountains of Shadow. They eventually stopped after crossing The River Poros, then turned westward to the Mouths of Anduin and once again headed south.

“Where to?” asked the Galain. Gorath handed the other Dark Elf a waterskin. They had stopped to rest once more.

“We are close to our destination,” Rûudhchamion pointed towards the south. “She is there, and I know not the urgency that drives me there.”

The two brothers looked at their older kin. “Then the purpose has not yet been revealed.”

“Gondor,” he said quietly. He looked with elven eyes, along the plains. His stormy, grey eyes filled with worry. He had not felt such urgent foreboding since last he had seen her, years past.

“Will she remember?” asked Gorath.

“The Lady Taralphiel is a dear friend. It has been long, but our paths have crossed and I believe it no coincidence.”

They kept silent, as they were about to begin towards the plain of Gondor, Galain pointed. Far off, perhaps still several leagues from their location they saw riders.

[Kryssal]

The ride was turning out to be slightly exhausting, but it let Lanaey clear her mind. Going into battle was no time to lose ones self. The gentle hills were repetitive and the land gave off a lazy feeling of contentment. Lanaey had been slightly obsorbing the land's strength their entire journey to try and strengthen herself. As they got nearer to their destination, however, the land was getting more turbulent, more filled with anger, hate, and struggle. War affected the land so much, it was a shame that it had to take so much damage from the inhabitants fighting over it.

Suddenly Lanaey looked up and out. She had felt something and she wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was from out there. Scanning the lands about she spied some riders a few leagues off. At this distance she could only tell that there were three of them, whatever they may be. They weren't being overly subtle or trying to hide, so it looked like they might be friendly or indifferent, though being in war time it was hard to guess anyone's intent.

Glancing at the group that she was a part of, she wondered if she should mention it at all. Looking at their leader, Lanaey noticed that the pace had just been slackened, and she slowed Drass in response. Taking another look at the far off travellers, Lanaey spurred Drass into a quick burst of speed to reach Laurel from the middle back of the group. Drass was starting to feel a lot of strain and Lanaey patted her in reassurance. Drass would be getting an extra good rubdown when they finally camped.

"Lady, there are some riders in the distance." Lanaey pointed the direction with her head. "Are you expecting any more help from different quarters?"

"No, I'm not." Laurel squinted her eyes trying to make them out, but she only had human eyes after all. After a few moments she said, "You mean that little moving blur up there?"

Lanaey nodded in affirmation.

"Do you know what they are? Or who they are?" Laurel asked.

"I do not. I only know that there are three of them and they aren't hiding their movements much."

As Laurel once again looked at the little band far off, Lanaey dropped back to her old position. Drawing in a little more strength from the land, she continued on their pace looking ahead to their goal. She'd let Laurel handle any decisions; it didn't really matter to Lanaey in any matter. Lanaey was beginning to wonder what mattered to her at all... Once again she was reminded about the alien struggle inside of herself.

[Taralphiel]

"Lady, there are some riders in the distance." The voice of Lanaey the elf drew her back to herself. She motioned to the land in front of her "Are you expecting any more help from different quarters?"

"No, I'm not." Laurel looked out forward and strained to see. Squinting, she noticed something "You mean that little moving blur up there?" Lanaey nodded.

"Do you know what they are? Or who they are?" Laurel questioned the she-elf

"I do not. I only know that there are three of them and they aren't hiding their movements much."

Laurel thought to herself. 'If they are foe, then there is little to do' She gripped her concealed sword and motioned to the group 'I shall ride out to meet them. If any blows be made, our shaper eyed friends shall see'

Laurel spurred her horse and slowly saw the figures come into shape. When she was close enough she slowed and called 'The Lady of the Swan Wood asks thee thine names!' One said...

[maikafanawen]

Atop Taurawaa, Annanoldowen rode silently behind and to the left of Laurel. The air was motionless and the trees were still. An unspoken threat hung in the air of the ever-present feeling of anger, of war. The company members sat in their saddles, tense and ready: aware of every sound, movement, and smell. Every now and then a bird would call out for its mate, or a squirrel would scamper up a tree, an acorn clutched in its mouth. Annanoldowen watched everything from her place. She took in every tree, and detected every previous passing. Glancing ahead, she noticed a trio of riders, unconcealed in their travel. Lanaey had seen them as well and rode up beside Laurel.

"Lady, there are some riders in the distance." The voice of Lanaey the elf drew her back to herself. She motioned to the land in front of her "Are you expecting any more help from different quarters?"

"No, I'm not." Laurel looked out forward and strained to see. Squinting, she noticed something "You mean that little moving blur up there?" Lanaey nodded.

"Do you know what they are? Or who they are?" Laurel questioned the she-elf

"I do not. I only know that there are three of them and they aren't hiding their movements much." She gripped her concealed sword and motioned to the group “I shall ride out to meet them. If any blows be made, our shaper eyed friends shall see”

The company halted and watched as Laurel rode out to meet them. Annanoldowen followed her with her pale eyes protectively. An owl cried: a startling, cackle of a predator hunting and not the usual mournful hooting you would hear any other night. Wide-winged, the owl swooped out of a nearby pine, tail spread as it sailed low. To her left, Annanoldowen heard the sudden dash of something small through the fields, then a high, despairing scream. The owl rose, a rabbit caught in its talons, the animal swinging in the dead air. The sight caught Annanoldowen hard by the throat, and she shivered at the irony of the spectacle. Others behind her moved uneasily, and disturbed glances were exchanged.

Annanoldowen looked inconspicuously towards Lanaey. Her head was bowed and eyes focused on some invisible matter inside her mind. Feeling a tang of pity for the elf, Annanoldowen righted herself in her own saddle, displaying a sense of confidence she hoped to ripple through the air, and calm the straining tenseness of the company. A second owl screamed, its voice ripping through the air like a crack of lightening. Starting at the noise, Annanoldowen narrowed her eyes and waited for the return of Laurel.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel tried to enjoy the warm ride back to her House, though the darkness was settling on her soul. The light breeze through the fair Elm and Beech, and the scattered cones of the Pine tree made smells that made her smile. Her old horse soon drew into the beflowered archway of stone that marked the entrance to her open House. It was not long before she was in her chair by the Sea. The sweet smell of burning scents and the age of the pages of the book she was sifting through eased her heart like none else. The rings on her fingers clattered lightly as her hands moved, and she found herself staring at them self-consciously. Many she bore all had memories. One looked as a crown of the wisps of the wind. To her it was her ring of value, it showed her what mattered, above the sheen of silver or worldly things. Another was of four trails of waves, representing her four sisters, her divide from them only bound by flesh. And her ring of the Maiden, her flowing hair wrapping about her fingers, it taught self worth. This ring would soon go to Laurel, to teach her the virtue of seeing the beauty of one’s own soul.

The last ring was of three small flowers, open petals with centers of milky blue green stones, all catching the light. This was her wedding ring, more sacred to her than all things. She stretched her fingers and saw their age. Sighing, she looked out and pondered all the years that had come, and what they had lead to.

A young Swan Maid entered in, her billowing hair and meek smile giving Taralphiel strength. ‘What is it, my child?’ she asked placidly
‘The party of Laurel has arrived in the village. There are a great many. Thirty or even more. They request a meeting with you.’
Taralphiel’s face filled with a youthful hope ‘Of course! Tell Laurel to send representatives of each group here to meet with me!’ Taralphiel paused and closed her eyes ‘and tell Laurel to insist the Dark Elf to come. I knew he could not resist the persuasions of an old friend’ at that she grinned, and the Maid left.

Taralphiel mused happily ‘There is knowledge left in me yet, and I will see it well used here. Hope is coming back to me!’

[Thalionyulma]

The three dark elves had been observing the riders in the distance for a few hours. Something had drawn Rûdhchamion towards them to follow. Galain had merely raised a brow and shrugged, Gorath had followed his brother’s lead.

Their eldest kin had simply told them that what they sought for would be soon revealed. Galain had kept silent, for he had felt that his older kin would soon depart. But he also felt that what was before him and his brother, they could not avoid.

They followed the riders on foot at first, then as they were a few leagues closer, Rûdhchamion had seen several horses running about. The elves had beckoned to the willing animals and had rode slowly at first towards where they had spied the riders across the plain.

“Is it wise to be seen so?” Queried Gorath, his eldest kin nodded. Galain kept silent as he kept his thought to himself.

As they came closer, they detected a note of alarm from the riders. One, a female elf said something to another female. The human female seemed to be the leader of the riders. She spurred her horse and as they drew even closer.

When she was a few yards from them she slowed and called 'The Lady of the Swan Wood asks thee thine names!'

The Dark Elf looked at her with his grey sharp eyes, he halted his companions. Both Galain and Gorath watched keenly the exchange. They noticed the elf maiden who was observing them guardedly.

“I am Rûdhchamion of Leog Ningloron, near the eaves of Greenwood, Kingdom of the Elvenking. These are my kin, Galain and Gorath,” the two elves nodded in silent greeting.

[Taralphiel]

“I am Rûdhchamion of Leog Ningloron, near the eaves of Greenwood, Kingdom of the Elvenking. These are my kin, Galain and Gorath,” came the reply.

Laurel dismounted her horse and looked at the Elf, a great smile creasing her face. When he did not respond, she quickly masked it.

'I am Laurel, granddaughter of the Lady Taralphiel of the Swan Wood. She was hoping you would accompany us. It is an honour to meet thee'

Rudchamion stared at her. It seemed he saw a recognition of her grandmother in her features. He simply nodded, and rode to join the group. Laurel joined them, but they did not travel far. It was beginning to get dark, and it was decoded they would camp one night in the open, before riding on to Swan Wood.

Once all had unpacked, Laurel saw the three Elves go about introducing themselves. She watched their mannerisms, and their dark presence moving over the camp, and wondered what lay in store for them, and the whole group, in the woods of her grandmother.

She sat by the fire, stone faced and thinking, when someones voice broke the silence. It was the man of Rohan, Herebrand. Laurel was not sure what to make of this man, and found this a good oppurtunity to find out more about his character...

[Kryssal]

These Dark Elves were strange and foreign to Lanaey. That sparked an interest in her. She actually wanted to talk to them and find out more about them, but from observing them so far as they were talking to Laurel and as the group set up camp, Lanaey didn't think that they were the very talkative sort.

Lanaey chose a place on the outskirts of their camp to set up her bedroll and unpack the equipment from Drass.

Everyone was getting into a camadarie with the rest of the members and Lanaey could tell that everything was going to go smoothly till they actually got to the fighting, then she would have to make new assesments about everyone's mettle. Looking at the others however, she felt that they would all prove themselves to be excellent fighters, except for that scholar Elf Annanoldowen. She would do her part though no doubt.

While sipping some water after she had finished her little dinner, Lanaey accidentally caught the eyes of one of the new Elves. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side, indicating that he could sit or talk if he wished.

[Taralphiel]

Walking through the shadows, the creature watched for the stray beams of moonlight that threatened his concealment. Indeed the open aired house of the Swan Lady was hazardous for him, the light stunning him and leaving him vulnerable. He slowly traced his steps through the house, like a routine, and made his way down the halls to the bedchambers. Listening to the foreign rising and falling of breathing, he found a small group of guests. He assumed them to be a makeshift legion, and gave a low growl. Soon he found the room he was seeking, and a grin spread on his face.

Moving in, he saw the Lady Laurel lying asleep. Her face was still but had a disturbed look on it, as if sleep unnerved her. He ran his finger gently across her pale jawline and smiled, then let out low whispers. ‘I know ye brought them here dearest, and that ye wish to hide from me, but I shall no’ weary. They will come for this place, and I shall have your beauty to my own. Only I can bring ye comfort to that eating darkness, and I will no’ yield’ At that a beam of the moon struck him and lit up his face. Pale as the light, his eyes were darker than any abyss. His long hair was tied back and flowed lightly over his shoulders. His featues were strong and handsome, but fey and sickness rose from his features above all else. His ears gave him away as an Elf, and his curse on the moonlight was also obvious. But this Elf was no longer of his people, but twisted and fallen. Cuor moved quietly back into the forest, humming his plans, and cursing the rest of the damned House.

~*~

Cuor made his way back through the forest to the camp of the stinking rebels. The smell of rotting and burning meat assailed his senses, as well as the reek of the many filthy bodies jostling, telling tales and searching for more Ale. Quickly he darted into a tall tent at the end of the heap of soldiers, and threw himself to the floor. Inside, skins and rugs were thrown down, and jugs of wine and food stood nearby. Leaning against the tent were broadswords, stained with blood and evilly tarnished. Also were a quiver and arrows, and a small skin pouch. In his prostrate position, Cuor stared at the shiny darts that had spilled from the satchel, their ends feathered black, and their tips gleaming a sickly yellow.
A voice boomed out over him ‘Get ye up, fool! Tell me news!’
Cuor stood to face the man. He too was grubby, and smelled foul. His dark beard fell long over his ragged skins and clothes, and he did not suit his surroundings, which were a sight more refined, but not too much. His dirt stained face showed a twisted nose and two, small dark eyes, with a menacing stare ‘Well! Out with it!’

‘The Lady has employed mercenaries milord’ he began slowly ‘there are many, and some may be hidden, I am no’ sure. They will put up a greater fight then we may be able to stand’

At that plates flew about the room as the Wild Man roared ‘We shall see! Wretch! You are no better then that damned old witch, sitting on ‘er throne! That land will be mine! And I’ll ‘ang her from the nearest tree!’ he scowled at Cuor, and his voice turned chillingly meek ‘Tell me, little pointy ear, what be you wanting from this? Ye came to me and told me o’ a wonderful palace in the forests ripe for the taking. We only knew of a small village then, and never thought to attack in such a number! You lead us straight there. And we are almost at her door! But naught have ye said of reward! Spit it out, wretch!’

Cuor’s eyes narrowed ‘I be wanting one o’ the ladies of the House. The warrior. Leave her alone’ The Wild King grinned ‘Hehhh! You be picking out the best, m’friend. Why do ye not just take her now! Why kill her graddam, and all her friends hm?’

Cuor did not move. He turned the question over and over in his mind. Why kill them all? ‘She will no’ want ye any other way’ a voice assured him, and he spun around. A dark cloaked figure appeared at the door. Throwing down the hood, a Wild Woman grinned ‘Ah! Gita!’ smiled the King. Gita looked far better dressed than Wild Men, enough to blend into the town, which was what she did. ‘This thing was stealing from the twon in his hunger pains. He was brought to the House and fell in love with the Houses beauty. But her gran’ wouldna’ have that, and sent him away.’ She smirked. Cuor was astounded she knew such things. ‘And ye would love to know where he came from? The charred wreck of the cursed ring o’ Black Mountains’ At this, the King again scowled ‘The cursed Lord’s leftovers eh? Well, he serves his purpose, and he shall get his reward if he does as he is ordered. Out a my sight!’ With that he received a stern kick from Gita, and was out the door. Nursing his sore backside into a tree, he grinned in malice ‘They can have the Land, and I shall have my Lady. But she will no’ love me without some sport. Yesss, she’ll hunt them down fer me’ and he smiled though the night, dreaming of being Lord of his own Land.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

“Whoa, more elves!” Jess exclaimed, visibly pleased and awed as everyone took to camp. Jess sat scrunched up with her knees under her chin and her arms around her knees, and Cartil smirked at his sister’s amazement as he weeded through papers her had brought from Minas Tirith. Sparrow had wandered off somewhere, but came back whenever Cartil whistled for the stallion.

“You need to get out more, Jess,” Cartil commented, scrawling in his messy handwriting onto one of the parchments. Jess rolled her eyes at her brother. It seemed her once fun-loving brother had little time to do anything exciting or daring anymore. Cartil always had something to do and something to finish.

“Are there many elves in Minas Tirith?” Jess asked, and her brother continued writing on his papers. Jess didn’t repeat the question; she knew her brother well and wouldn’t ask the same question twice.

“Not many. There are plenty in Ithilien though,” Cartil replied after several moments of consideration. Silence followed, and Jess couldn’t stand the boredom any longer. She stood, and turned on her right foot, like all good soldiers in the way her brothers had taught her, and then went to find Sparrow.

Once she found the white stallion rummaging through the foliage for some tasty grass, Jess strode over to him, and ran her fingers through his well-cared-for mane.

“Sparrow, does it ever get dull carrying Cartil around everywhere?” Jess asked the horse, not expecting an answer. Jess shook her head. Everyone loved Cartil, even the horse probably. Jess carefully put both hands on the area just behind Sparrow’s withers, and then swung her right leg over Sparrow’s back. Sparrow grunted and flicked his ears back, but Jess hardly noticed.

“Let’s go for a ride, Sparrow!” Jess whispered to the horse as she gently dug her heels into Sparrow’s abdomen. Sparrow neighed loudly, and Jess nearly fell off the stallion as he reared up into the air, and began to kick his front legs. Sparrow, in the mood for a little payback, went galloping off into the woods at full speed, hoping to knock the annoying human girl off his back. Sparrow went flying into the camp with all the travelers, and the stallion was certainly not careful to avoid the people and their belongings. Sparrow nearly knocked over one of the Rohirric men, and trashed any part of the camp that was in his way. Then, the horse went speeding back into the woods until he came to a small creek, where he came to a sudden halt that sent Jess soaring through the air and into the water. With a kick of dust in Jess’ direction, a satisfied Sparrow trotted off towards the camp.

When Sparrow came back to the camp, several of the travelers glared at him as they cleaned up any part of the camp in disarray. Cartil whistled a short tune, and Sparrow clip-clopped up to his master.

“Good job, Sparrow old boy,” Cartil congratulated his horse.

Jess quickly jumped up from her landing spot in the small creek, and then went to get out of the little ditch running through the forest. As she was about to get out of the creek, Jess slipped on a wet stone. Her feet slid backwards and her upper body fell down into the mucky grass. Her knees were wet now, and sure to bruise, and her tunic was dirty as the ground itself. Jess sighed; it was just her luck for something like that to happen. Jess trudged back towards the campsite to get changed into clean, dry clothing. When she did return, Cartil chuckled at her and her disheveled look.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Cartil commented, letting Sparrow take a bite from an apple.

“Always glad to provide everyone with endless amusement," Jess replied sracastically, and grabbed some clean clothes from her pack. Cartil frowned her way, then continued to take a seat next to the priestess woman. Cartil struggled to remember her name. He had heard it before...Leah, no...Lara? Leena! Her name was Leena.

"Do you have any sisters? They can be a pain," Cartil began, recieving a stare from the grey eyes of Leena.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen sat on the ground by the fire, crafting a makeshift frog for her sword. She braided dark, strong pieces of leather together and pulled hard twice, testing its strength. Satisfied, she replaced the fraying frog with her new one. The elf smiled, and her sword hissed free of its scabbard. She stared for a minute at her sword. Its curved blade was authentically elven. Calligraphic elvish encrypted on the side read ‘Annanoldowen, daughter of Imladris.’ Annanoldowen ran her fingers over the fine lettering and rubbed down a piece of dirt with her thumb. There was no special history behind her sword. The lettering and fancy scabbard were simply an indulgence. She needed a weapon for protection, and she had had the master forger make her one that fitted her role as a Lady of Rivendell. Pleased with her new frog, she slipped her sword home and laid it beside her.

The company was gathered around the fire, most speaking with the three new additions. Annanoldowen hadn’t said much to anyone since she came. She had mostly kept to herself, taking in the surroundings. The elf had been looked upon to take up the role of nobility at Rivendell, and friendly conversations were not her hobby. However, as she watched some of her companions, she realized that they didn’t know her as she had always been, and she could take on a new personality, and maybe even befriend some of them. Thinking it over, she decided to toss the thought aside and got up from her seat. She stretched, and adjusted her riding clothes.

The shield-maiden called Jesslyn caught her eye. She had just fallen in a stream do the mishap of a riding experience. The horse had reared and bucked, tossing the child from her seat. She stood, her front very dirty, and her pants very wet. Smiling, Annanoldowen waited as Jesslyn changed into cleaner clothes. When she emerged, Annanoldwen greeted her with a low bow.

“Suilad Jesslyn. My name is Annanoldowen, Lady of Rivendell.” The wise-elf let a broad smile paint itself on her elegant usually stern-expressioned face. The charm one smile could do demonstrated itself upon the elf’s façade. She looked much younger, and more pleasant. “I understand that you are brothers with Sir Cartil,” she nodded in the direction of her brother. “and that we are all to be companions in the riddance of the enemy of Swan Wood. Perhaps we could get to know each other better?” She leaned up against a tree and watched the girl with a perspective eye. Jesslyn raised an eyebrow at the elf’s suggestion. She nodded slowly.

“You can call me Jess by the way. Everyone else does,” she tucked a loose strand of even dark hair behind her ear, and relaxed her stance. Annanoldowen smiled and nodded.

“Oh, alright.” A question was prying on her mind, and though it seemed very forward, she decided to give it a shot. “Excuse me if this seems like an awkward question, but I am curious, and I have never met such a young shield-maiden before.” And was a good fighter she thought silently. “Can you wield a sword well?” Jesslyn’s expression narrowed and she shifted slightly. What’s that supposed to mean? she thought.

Annanoldwen held up a hand to pause their conversation and retrieved her sword from its scabbard with a light ring, and she gestured for Jess to do the same. In one dramatic movement, Jesslyn also pulled out her sword, holding before her in a sure and still form. The elf silently approved.

“Show me, Miss Stone, how well trained are you?” she drawled jovially. Jesslyn seemed caught off guard by the sudden change in personality, but shook it away. Welcoming the challenge, and new diversion, Jesslyn ‘accepted’ Annanoldowen’s proposal. The two practiced their swordplay for a bit, Annanoldowen mostly testing out Jesslyn’s skills, which were surprisingly good. And much to the elf’s appeasement, Jesslyn’s face betrayed her befuddlement at the seemingly frail elf’s skill with a sword. Smiling, Annanoldwen lowered and sheathed her sword.

“Very well done Miss Stone, but,” she added extending a hand in the way of men, “I guess you already knew that.” She winked and the two shook hands. “Now, won’t you have a seat, I feel like talking.”

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn nodded, and took a seat near the fire, and Annanoldowen joined her. Jesslyn was so excited to be talking to an Elf, up close! Jesslyn had always considered the Elven kind the folk of fireside stories, and couldn’t recall ever speaking to one before Annanoldowen decided to speak to her.

“Annanoldowen,” Jesslyn began, and the Elf nodded, willing Jess to go on. “You have such a long name! Mind if I call you Anna? My mother says that means ‘gift’ in your tongue. I can’t speak Elvish though. I’ve never really met an Elf before. What’s it like? What does Annanoldowen mean?”

Jesslyn had spoken in such haste and only stopped to breathe after she had spoken, that it took a moment for Annanoldowen to collect her thoughts.

“Annanoldowen means ‘Gift of Knowledge’. You’ve never met an Elf before? You’re brother hasn’t either? What is it like to be an Elf, you mean?” Annanoldowen continued when she saw the look in Jesslyn’s anxious eyes. “I’m not sure. What is it like to be human?”

“No, no! My brother has met Elves before. Thanks to them, he knows how to shoot with those bows and arrows of yours. Cartil wasn’t careful about what…or whom…he used as target practice after that. Being human is wonderful, once one grasps the idea that they’ve only got so long to live. Once a human realizes that, they know that they better do something worthwhile with that time. Not enough humans realize this in time, though,” Jesslyn’s voice tarried off as she noticed something near Annanoldowen. Annanoldowen’s sword in its sheath! “Miss Anna? Might I see your sword? Looks beautiful from far away, would it be alright for me to see it up close?”

Annanoldowen nodded, and handed Jesslyn the weapon. Taking it from its scabbard, Jesslyn’s eyes widened and she held the shining blade in her hands. Something was written in it, and Jess squinted to try and read it.

“It’s Elvish, Miss Stone.” Annanoldowen chided, and Jesslyn nodded.

“Jess is fine, Miss Anna,” Jesslyn smiled inwardly and resolved to call the kindly elf just Anna, if it was all right with her. “What does it say, Anna?”

“Annanoldowen, daughter of Imladris,” Annanoldowen replied as Jesslyn let a finger run along the curved edge of the blade. Jess nodded approval for the weapon and returned it to Annanoldowen.

“And how old might you be, Miss St- I mean, Jess,” Annanoldowen asked.

“Eighteen. Is it proper to ask how old an Elf is? I’d sure be embarrassed to say how old I was if I lived to be more than a thousand,” Jess replied bluntly.

“That is because your kind do not live as long as mine. It is not strange for me to say to someone ‘I am four and a half thousand years old’,” Annanoldowen answered, and returned her sword to a resting place next to her.

“You’ve lived so much longer than I have! You must have been to so many places, whereas I’ve only been around Tarnost until now! Can you tell me about your travels?” Jesslyn continued, and Jess’ new friend began to tell some stories about her travels. As Annanoldowen spoke, Jesslyn came to have deep respect and admiration for the Elf's wisdom.

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Thalionyulma]

Gorath had followed the lead of both Galain and his elder cousin, Rûdhchamion. He was curious since his people rarely mingled with others, even of their own race. Humans fascinated him, but he could not completely shake off his wariness, as was natural to the Dark Elves.

He had noticed the hidden smile of his cousin upon the greeting of the human named Laurel. Raising a brow slightly, the older elf had shaken his head and Gorath sensed an amusement on the others part. Rûdhchamion had later explained that the girl reminded him of another young maiden… Taralphiel. He listened to the small conversation between Laurel and his cousin while he observed the others around him.

Galain too observed silently, taking in his surroundings. He saw the female elf was watching them curiously. Although unlike before, she no longer had a guarded look. He was a bit surprised when she motioned a welcome to him, but did not show it. He merely smiled back before accepting her invitation.

He soon learned she was called Lanaey.

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Thalionyulma ]

[Ransom]

While those who looked at the black haired woman usually wrote her off as eccentric, those with more skill at reading a person’s state of mind and emotion could pick up some inkling of her true feelings. Leena’s father had died shortly before the birth of his second daughter, forcing the new widow to work full time to support her children. In due time, she had fallen to a faceless murder’s knife behind the shady tavern where she had worked as a cook. The heavy weight of providing for her younger sister as well as paying rent had fallen on Leena’s narrow shoulders. Not possessing any marketable skills, she had resorted to pick pocketing and thievery to pay for food and housing. After being forcibly recruited by the Order of the Black Rose, the need to care for her sister had all but disappeared. Enna had been sent to a small (but nearby) orphanage while her older sister was trained to serve the White Tower.

At the very least, those who survived the rigorous education emerged cynical and paranoid. For Leena, the period of training had heightened the sense of unease she had been ignoring since her mother’s death. She often became quite depressed, a condition that only aggravated her normally eccentric nature. Unknown to her, this was one of the reasons she had been paired with Thagon. Even though she could recite long lists of his failings, she had to grudgingly admit that he brought some sort of stability to her life.

"Do you have any sisters? They can be a pain," Cartil began, recieving a stare from the grey eyes of Leena.

Leena broke her revile with an almost audible snap. When the rest of the group had aggregated around the fire before bedtime, the two Gondorians had pulled up a log. Thagon pulled out a small block of wood and set to work with his knife, chipping away at the wood in a never-ending quest for artistic perfection. Instead of wasting time, Leena had pulled out a small sharpening stone from a pouch on her belt and a knife from her boot and set about sharpening. Apparently, she had entered one of her more philosophical moments. That would have to be corrected as soon as possible.

“I’ve got a younger sister, but I must confess that I adore her. She’s smart enough, but puts far more value in clothing and talk than action. Your sister does seem somewhat headstrong.”

Cartil responded with a loud laugh. “You’ve just said the understatement of the year. Jess certainly has a mind of her own. But she’s insistent, and fairly good at what she puts her mind to.”

“Then you’re luckier than you think you are, Cartil. It’s a rare thing to find a person who’ll put their hearts a minds into a task these days.”

“Indeed,” replied the diplomat thoughtfully, “you certainly have a point. But points do little when their grating on your nerves.”

Throwing a half playful, half serious look at Thagon, she responded, “The elves say that Nienna gives wisdom through suffering and perseverance. ‘Tis certainly been a great comfort, or I would have gone mad long ago.”

[Kryssal]

The dark elf approached her and sat down in the indicated spot. He was lean and precision showed in his every move. His black hair caught the faint light, making it look alive and flowing in rhythm with the body it was connected to. He couldn't seem to find anything to say and kept his eyes carefully adverted from her. Lanaey expected this however, since he was a very shy person from a shy race.

"I am known as Lanaey, what might you go by?"

He still kept his head slightly tilted against her. "I am Galain of the North."

Lanaey looked off and saw the scholarly Elf Annanoldowen and the human youth Jesslyn sparing off in another part of the camp. Strange, Lanaey never thought that Annanoldowen would know how to use a blade so, but she seemed to be holding her own quite well against the sparing girl.

"Humans are very interesting, aren't they?" Lanaey spoke, still watching the match.

Galain quickly looked at her in confusion at the random comment, then followed her gaze and saw the two mock-fighting. "I don't know much about them."

"Well, for one thing they are very young, and will always be that way. Most think that they are wiser than the Elven elders, especially the youth, but they do have their unique insights. They can be very suprising at times." Lanaey was thinking back to a time when she had been fighting against a loose band of orcs and she had come upon a small group of humans that were hunting the same group. They had combined forces and one of the youngest human fighters had saved her life through his own intuition. A smile came to her lips, now there was one arrogant, honest, and brave lad.

Galain watched for a moment longer, then shifted his eyes to another spot. Lanaey didn't follow his gaze. "They are very different from my people, as are you."

Lanaey turned and faced the dark Elf fully. He raised his face and they locked eyes, searching each other out. "I am not so different from you. Perhaps your people though, but not you nor your travelling kin I suspect."

Galain raised a brow, pondering, still searching.

Lanaey absentmindedly reached up and rubbed her ear cuff, turning her gaze outward.

Galain was still watching Lanaey when he spoke next and she turned back to him. "What are you fighting her for?"

Lanaey was about to give her automatic answer of 'because it's a wrong that needs righting', but something in his gaze paused her and made her search a little deeper inside of herself, near to the struggle inside of her.

"I'm not sure. I first came because I felt that I could help. Now, it seems as if something will happen that will change me. I don't know if it will be for the better or not, yet I can't turn from the path," Lanaey gave a short snort accompanied by a wry smile. "I'm already changing and I don't know why or what to do about it. Normally I wouldn't speak to you, especially not about things I'm going through, but. . ." Lanaey wasn't sure what she was saying or why. Once again she was not in tight control of herself, yet this time it didn't scare her as it had before.

Shrugging and smiling, Lanaey turned back to her guest.

Galain just nodded.

[Taralphiel]

Before Laurel could say a word, she heard an almighty noise from the bushes. Coming out wet and bedraggled was Jesslyn Stone, obviously thrown off her brothers steed. A small smile crept on Laurel's face, but she shrugged it away. A soft chuckle came from behind her 'She should be more careful'

'I suppose' Laurel turned to smile at the Rohirrim, a great grin on his face 'That horse was most certainly out of her skill'

She sat down next to him and he offered her a mug of ale. Accepting, she spoke after a silence 'What are ye expecting from our journey?'

'An adventure' Herebrand said with a smile before turning more steadily to her 'And to stop another War of course' She nodded and turned her face to the fire.

'Tell me more about Swan Wood' he asked

Their conversation ran long that night, and she told him all she could of the place she had lived in for so long.

[Taralphiel]

Cuor stumbled out of the tree that morning, muttering in her native tongue and cursing all the great oafs in the camp. Stumbling off into the forest to relieve himself, he was accosted and pushed to the floor. Kicking out, the attacker gave a yowl and he stood to face Gita with a scowl 'Beast! Can you not leave me in peace!!'

Gita smiled at him, and he noticed the devious curve of her mouth as she spoke 'How was I to know it was ye? Though I do wish to talk with ye Cuor' She fiddled with her hair a slight before adding seriously 'How do ye hope to win her Cuor? When she discovers your treachery, she'll want ye dead'

Cuor fought back waves of fury, but still spat out at her 'She will know why I did it!! And if she wont see reason, I have my ways!!'

Gita nodded ad she leant against a tree, and produced one of the poisonous darts that had become the bane of the village people 'Indeed you do, my Elf friend' she said, twisting it in her fingers. 'Do ye plan on poisoning her then?'

Cuor could take no more and stormed out of the clearing with a growl. Before her could, he strong arm grasped his shoulder, and though he shrugged her off, he still turned to hear her...

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin sat by the great camp fire and stared at the flames however without seeing them. His mind wandered its own routes, memories came and went as they wished and he did not try to control the flow. Sounds and smells from around him triggered recollections of days long gone. At some point an old melody filled his head. He began humming, first wavering then intensifying as the words arose from Annunfuin's subconscious.

The King was yet without a crown
but great was he as 'twas known
Hope he was when hope was frail
and men would follow him or fail.

All other sounds ceased, both men and elves turned to look at the grey Gondorian. Annunfuin's voice was dark and velvety yet clear and calm, filling the twilight air.

Seven times thousand brave men
then marched towards Evil's den
one who falters will go down
so Forth! To death or great renown.

They saw the Gates of Mordor land
and there was hardly heart or hand
which did not tremble before that sight
of Sauron's realm and endless night.

All hope seemed lost, doom was near
foe o'erwhelming caused great fear
shades and arrows filled the air
and the cries of Nazguls killed all fair.

But Tree and Stars rose unyielding
the flag which the King was wielding
with White Horse and the Silver Swan
men stood against the foe as one.

Blood was shed, brave men were lost
no greater could have been the cost
proud warriors that gave their lives
to save their children and their wives.

And so befell amid the fall
that aid came by the hands of the small
and in the end conjoined all cords
'twas the end of Dark Lord's.

One thing there was that made this true
and these will be my final cue
When doom seems clear, all in vain
Faith without hope is one that remain.

Annunfuin fell silent and then stood up to stir the fire. He could feel the stares of the others and needed to do something to end the prolonged silence. He turned to face Laurel who had been talking with Herebrand, and spoke:

"Well, we still have both faith and hope, and our hopes will come true."

"But this time we have to trust no hands but our own. No little folk nor eagles are here to aid us."

Annunfuin recognised the voice that came from behind him and he raised his eyes to meet Sir Thagon’s piercing look…

[ April 26, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[maikafanawen]

“She’ll never love ye Cuor! You’re playing a fool!” Gita watched as Cuor left the clearing, eyes dark. She crouched down on the palms of her feet and leaned against a tree, placing the dart back in her bandoleer. Eyes, narrowed she sat there in thought. Cuor is a fool. That Swan Lady will never know him as anything but a monster. He is destroying her town and by doing so, she herself. She shook her head of the thoughts and stood.

“Good,” she said simply. “The people of Swan Wood,” she spat the name with distaste, “will know their place. Then Cuor will see,” bottled anger rose in her throat, “Fool!” She turned and fled the clearing, racing back to her tent. It was behind that of the king’s, made of dark green fabrics to blend into the trees. Far from the camp’s center, she had the most privacy here, and quickly changed into a costume that would serve her next mission: that of a servant in the house of the Swan Lady. Tonight, there was to be a meeting with Laurel’s recruits and Taralphiel herself. Gita didn’t want to miss it!

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena slowed down and wiped her eyes, trying to stop crying. Now I upset the wild girl! she thought. Maybe she'll eat me after all
Surprisingly the thought drove away the tears, and she looked around curiously. This was a part of the village she hadn't seen before and she didn't know how to get back.
Good! she thought. I don't want to go back there

There were some trees around where she was standing, as well as cottages.
"I wonder what animals live here?" she asked Della with a smile, walking over to a garden.
"Hello Kitty-cat" she added, as a tabby came and began to wind around her ankles. Laying Della on a wall, Elena picked the cat up.
"You're a pretty kitty" she said, and giggled. "I wonder if you're magic. Can you speak?"
"Meow" replied the cat.
"Yes, Kitty I agree it's a lovely day." Elena answered seriously. "Can I introduce you to my friend, Della?"
Elena walked with the cat over to the wall.
"I hope you're pleased to meet each other. Well, Kitty I would love to talk all day but I must get on. No I can't stay for tea" Elena put the cat down and picked up her doll, for once not noticing her rumpled dress.

[ April 26, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Taralphiel]

And so befell amid the fall
that aid came by the hands of the small
and in the end conjoined all cords
'twas the end of Dark Lord's.

One thing there was that made this true
and these will be my final cue
When doom seems clear, all in vain
Faith without hope is one that remain.

Laurel listened as the strong voice of Annunfuin slowly faded into the warmth of the fire. Se wanted to cry, but tears welled up on the inside. It was then he heard him mutter to her "Well, we still have both faith and hope, and our hopes will come true." She let a small smile creep up on her face before someone broke the silence.

"But this time we have to trust no hands but our own. No little folk nor eagles are here to aid us."

Thagon's words were sobering, but very true. She nodded at him, and kept silent. His words gave her a desire to wield her sword, so she quietly excused herself from the campfire. Herebrand made a small protest but she quelled it, and wished him goodnight.

Standing deep in the forest, she found a small clearing. Unsheathing her sword, it cried through the wind. Closing her eyes she let the movement of the breeze direct where her sword went in clear movements. Imagining foes crowding about the clearing, she moved her blade and tried to counter attacks that were simply air. Her mind felt at peace, satisfied she was doing something, hardened by Thagon's words.

There was an unnatural movement in the trees, and she spun, blade half raised and squinted to see who was coming through the canopy...

[Taralphiel]

Roven stumbled through the trees to run headlong into the Lady Laurel. Her sword brandished, she looked a terrible sight. He stumbled to his knees in wonder

'She said you would be here! Praise the Vali! The forest is very close Milady! The village is waiting for ye!'

The dawn had just begun, and Laurel slowly realised how long she had been in the grove. Numbly she nodded and headed back to camp.

~*~

Taralphiel sat, waiting for her messanger to return. A young girl came with some herbal tea. Stooping low, the girls face was hidden from her site. Taralphiel slowly reached out her old hand and lifted the girls chin. Her eyes were masked. She waved her off cautiously, then mused to herself 'I must be wary of her' At that the messenger ran in, and panted out that Lady Laurel was coming soon.

Taralphiel eased herself out of her chair and moved towards the threshhold of her house as she heard hooves pound in the distance...

[Kryssal]

Lanaey could see the little village up ahead. It had more people in it than she would have thought, but even so, the village had desperately few people walking its streets. The populus seemed to be in a kind of stupor going through their days, but they held on waiting for liberation which was supposed to come from the group Laurel was leading to them.

Lanaey looked around at the rest of the group. Several were looking around eagerly, trying to see everything, while some, like the most stout of the Rohan riders, were just staring straight ahead not taking in the pleasures of the sight before them. Shrugging Lanaey turned and looked at the dark Elves. The eldest was looking ahead searching for nothing in particular, though the younger ones, especially Galain were sneaking peeks around at this strange new sight for them. Lanaey got a slight smile on her lips from watching them being fascinated by the village they were entering upon and trying to hide that fascination.

The group was heading through the edge of the village and finally entering in it. Lanaey could hear the siblings Jess and Cartil talking behind her, tuning them out she focused soley on the village around her. She could hear people walking, running errands, or talking to one another. She could also hear some animals, mostly staying away from the humans, though some like cats strayed among them. Though it seemed mostly peaceful in this land, Lanaey could feel a tremor running under the surface. It generated from the people mostly and was seeping into everything. Many of the animals had become skittish and nervous, showering their feelings back upon the land that spawned the feelings in them in the first place. The strain had to be affecting the people a lot as well. Of course there was then the war and bloodlust coming in from the far away raiders, though their influence wasn't putting too much of a damper on the land itself yet.

Lanaey had strayed off to the side from the group a bit in listening and trying to interpret the sounds and life around her. She turned Drass sharply to get back to the group as quickly as possible and Drass suddenly reared up and swung to the side landing heavily to the right. Drass had barely missing a young child that had just been playing with a cat and hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around her. Lanaey realized that she hadn't been paying attention either and the fault was hers. As was happening more often of late Lanaey mentally kicked herself. She was going to do a very long meditation cycle tonight. She had almost killed an innocent child and that carelessness would only get herself or a member of the group killed in the upcoming days. Patting Drass for being more observant than she, Lanaey swung off and knelt down to the child.

"Are you harmed child?" The little girl seemed stunned and couldn't speak, but with a quick checking over Lanaey saw that she hadn't been hurt, only startled. Looking down Lanaey saw a little doll. Picking it up and handing it to the little human she said, "Here, I bet she got awefully scared when the horse jumped."

The girl seemed to come back to herself and said . . .

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena looked up as a huge horse swung to the side just in front of her. It was a beautiful horse, and very well cared for. Looking further up she saw the rider. An Elf! she thought She's an Elf! It's like a story!

The beautiful Elf leant down and picked up Della, who had fallen in the shock.
"Here I bet she got awfully scared when the horse jumped" the Elf said. Elena gave a tiny curtsey.
"I think she's more surprised to see an Elf" she said. "You are very beautiful, and so is your horse"

[Taralphiel]

Laurel dismounted her horse in the town center as the cavalry followed. Children squealed in awe and delight at the sight of men with great swords and flapping standards. The women gave great smiles of relief, and the men of the village offered their homes eagerly to those who needed shelter. Laurel moved around the crowds, greeting and talking with all the villagers. ‘By Eru Thomas! You have grown. Ye are almost as tall as I!’ she laughed at a little boy. He grinned and skipped away. Laurel’s face fell when she saw a bent old woman with white hair standing away from the huddle. Running forward, she greeted the woman with a pained expression. Nodding, she returned to the group of warriors. ‘We must now decide who to take with us to the House, and who wishes to stay’ She turned to the Elf Lanaey, who seemed to be a little shaken, with a child shadowing her steps ‘I have a request of thee, Lady. My grandfather has been taken by one of the darts I spoke of. He is at Mandos’ door. Could you please see him, and see if you cannot help?’ Lady Lanaey nodded and bent down to murmur to the little girl, and Annanoldowen, who had just returned from the dressmakers, spoke up ‘Though I am to accompany thee, I would like to see Sir Havlor myself. I wish to understand as well what these weapons do, and if we both can help him’ Lanaey smiled in appreciation. ‘It is settled. The group heading to see Lady Taralphiel leave as soon as Lady Annanoldowen are done. Who is to accompany me?’

[Thalionyulma]

The dark elves rode silently observing their companions. Rûdhchamion had been amused of the brothers’ curiosity of the humans, as well as of the other elves. They knew that Lanaey was more of a warrior than of a loremaster, such as Annanoldowen. Through Galain’s conversation with Lanaey, they learned more of their elven kins from Imladris, or Rivendell, which he knew but a few tales of. They had not the chance to learn more of Annanoldowen.

Soon they were entering a village. Gorath sensed a change in his cousin’s mood and turned towards him, but Rûdhchamion seemed to be searching for someone. Perhaps this Taralphiel, he thought. Soon, he too was lost in fascination of the village and its inhabitants.

They slowed when Lanaey nearly ran over a young child, who was more awed than hurt. The young girl had looked on with her eyes wide with surprise.

As they reached the town center, Laurel dismounted and greeted an old woman. She seemed troubled, though relieved somewhat at the sight of the group. Laurel than turned and addressed the company.

‘It is settled. The group heading to see Lady Taralphiel leave as soon as Lady Annanoldowen are done. Who is to accompany me?’

The brothers turned to their cousin. Rûdhchamion shook his head slightly, perceptible only to the two. It would be their choice then. Galain raised a brow and dismounted, as did Gorath.

“We would be glad to be of service to thee, Lady,” Galain said, bowing slightly.

Rûdhchamion, too had dismounted, but said to Laurel, “ I would give aid where it may be needed, but I seek for one I knew. Where is Taralphiel?”

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jess couldn’t help but let a smile full of glee spread on her face. Some of the children were so small! Some of them tugged on the hem of Jesslyn’s grey tunic, while others jumped up and down at the sight of Elves. The group stopped at the village center, and was bombarded with people. Men offered places to sleep, women offered their skill with baking and cooking, and children just huddled around the group with joy plastered on their faces.

“Look at them all, Cartil! They all look so sweet!” Jesslyn cried, tousling the hair on one little boy. Cartil looked like he was about to go crazy as little girls ‘ooh-ed’ and ‘ah-ed’ when he walked by. Boys nagged at him to let them ride Sparrow, and he came close to ripping a chunk of his hair out when one girl nearly brought him tumbling down after grabbing onto the end of his bow.

“Oh yes, so sweet.” Cartil grumbled and shook off several put-down children.

“Mandos save the woman who marries you, Cartil.” Jesslyn shot back, and picked up a boy who looked to be about six or seven years old. She swung him around carefully, then gently set him down back on the ground.

“It is settled. The group heading to see Lady Taralphiel leave as soon as Lady Annanoldowen are done. Who is to accompany me?” Laurel’s voice rose above the slight chaos of the village gathering.

“We’re going with her,” Cartil commented passively, but Jesslyn shook her head.

“No! I think I’ll stay here and help keep this place safe…” Jesslyn spoke decidedly as she danced with two little boys and their sister.

“Jess, you’re coming with me to see Lady Taralphiel, and that’s that.” Cartil argued, however calmly as he shooed a teenage boy who had been interested in his sword.

“Come now, Cartil. You’re the one with the message to deliver, not me. Besides, your not my mother, and you can’t tell me what to do!”

“Well I’m your older brother and I expect you to treat me with respect. I also would appreciate it if you’d listen to me once in a while, and do as I say. I am only trying to do what’s best for you, for me, and for Swan Wood.”

“Cartil, it is folly for us to be arguing over something so stupid. Go where you want but I am staying here,” Jesslyn finished, and the fight stopped there. Cartil glared angrily at his sister, who casually blew upwards to get a stray lock of messy black hair out of her face.

“Fine!” with that, Cartil stormed off to find some peace and quiet from the villagers before he would have to leave to go and meet Lady Taralphiel.

"Fine!" Jess mumbled in a mockingly high voice, and turned back to her dance with the three children. "Don't bother that man over there, he is a very grumpy old dog!"

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen deeply resented wearing the clothing of a shield-maiden, but due to the strenuous travel (and possibly warfare) she would endure these next few weeks, she reluctantly conformed to such attire. The elf stood in front of the mirror of a local clothe shop in the village of Alphirion. She eyed her new ensemble dismayingly. Dark brown riding pants were covered halfway to just above the knee by simple, tan colored boots. A crisp white ‘swordswoman’s’ shirt was worn under a tough leather jerkin. The jerkin tied up the front with a leather string weaving in and out of a dozen pairs of grommets. The wings of the jerkin were made of a tougher material adding protection to the elf’s shoulders. Her silver feather pendant was visible between the collars of her shirt. Strapped to her belt were her regular sword and a new addition: a dagger of fine make that she had purchased at the local smithy’s shop. Her long blonde hair had been brushed out of her face and pulled back into one long braid, and secured with a thin leather strap at the end. Over all, she looked the part of any regular shield maiden. If not for her pointed ears and sharp features, she could almost pass for a woman of Rohan or Gondor. The thought was amusing.

“Are you satisfied?” asked an anxious shopkeeper as Annanoldowen took in her new look.

“I do not like the snug feel of this jerkin,” she replied, trying to loosen it under the arms with her thumbs.

“It’s best for travel,” was the rejoinder. Sighing, Annanoldowen paid the woman generously and left the shop.

A warm breeze greeted her, twirling the silver chimes on the clothe shop’s porch. Her new boots made no sound as she walked down the three steps to her horse. A small group of children had gathered and were looking admiringly at Taurawaa. Smiling kindly at them, Annanoldowen mounted and spurred her horse away from the row of shops and down the road. She joined the rest of the group just in time to visit a man by the name of Havlor who was passing due to one of the poison darts.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel moved quietly through the small rooms of the house of her grandfather, the group of Elves and Men that accompanyied her bowing to her grandmother at the door. Entering into the small bedchambers, her breathing caught at the sight of Havlor.

He barely dented the sheets he was lying in. His face was as pale as winter, his once ruddy brown hair not white and clinging to his pasty skull. But his sunken eyes did not lose their tender and wondrouns gaze of grey.

'Oh! My dearest Grandaughter! I am so glad to see thee!' he attempted to sit up, but coughing wracked his body. Laurel moved quickly to him, and soothed him back down into the pillow. Her heart breaking, she slowly coaxed water from a nearby jug over his cracked lips.

'Grandfather! I have missed you so much! I do wish I could have told thee I was going..' 'No need, dear child!' he grinned 'I am glad you went, and glad to see you got back safe' Laurel smiled at the old man as he said 'Tell me, did you see the view of the White Citadel?'

'Oh yes, grandfather. It was wonderful, just like you said it would be.' 'Good! It does me glad to know that even when an old warriors bones waste away, his City stands gleaming for all eyes to see' Laurel stopped him there 'Well, you may be able to see the White City again' and with that she motioned in two Elves.

Havlor chuckled 'I see Taralphiel is again good to her word' He again began to cough, and the taller Elf moved forward, and with a sharp gaze began to examine the old man.

The wound from the dart was by his left shoulder, and after all these weeks still lay part open. The skin around had turned black with teh poison, leaving evil stains on the bandages. Many nights Havlor would sink away into a dream, and only by a miracle would he wake. The Elf muttered to herself, and turned to the other, and they stirred over his body for a long time...

[Ransom]

While poison was generally considered a somewhat cowardly way to bump an opponent off, both Thagon and Leena had had some experience with the use and acquisition of such contraband. In the knight’s case, a certain stubborn ambassador from Umbar had mysteriously fallen ill after spending a night in a inn a day’s travel from Minas Anor. While the poor man had recovered, the king had prevailed on the less experience deputy to grant certain trade concessions. He secretly suspected that Leena used it somewhat more frequently, but it was not a normal conversational topic. The knight was somewhat curious about the use of a poisoned arrow. Either the archers knew that their victims didn’t wear armor, or had never considered that they might come to the attention of the White Tower. Whatever poison the bandits had used, it certainly didn’t kill quickly. Perhaps they were trying to terrorize the villagers before some sort of assault?

In all honesty, Thagon didn’t have much hope for the continued survival of the village. It certainly hadn’t been designed for a siege, and the steady depopulation of the town seriously hampered the possibility that fieldworks could be erected in time. Perhaps the best course of action would be to call for reinforcements and smash the foe in open battle, but no one seemed to know any sort of useful information. All the Gondorian had been able to glean from the scant scraps of news was that the enemies in question weren’t very well armed. At the moment, the best he could hope for was to capture a prisoner for interrogation. He made a mental note to suggest such a move to Laurel when things quieted down.

[ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Kryssal]

The little human had followed Lanaey as she rejoined her group in the center of the town. Jesslyn seemed to be thriving on the attention of the other children, but her little follower wasn't going to join the other kids at play. Elena's little hand seemed to have attached itself to a stray strap of leather hanging off of her belt. Looking down Lanaey could see the circle of hair that made the top of Elena's head. The child let off such feelings of kindness and strength even though she was so young, Lanaey smiled and patted her.

Lanaey turned as Laurel spoke to her. "I have a request of thee, Lady. My grandfather has been taken by one of the darts I spoke of. He is at Mandos’ door. Could you please see him, and see if you cannot help?" Lanaey nodded even though she wasn't too sure that she could do much to help the old man. Lanaey had only come in contact with poisons used to kill outside of food and drink no more than a dozen times in her long life. Bending down she took Elena's hand in hers. Their eyes locked and Lanaey couldn't really think of what she wanted to tell the child.

"I have to go now, and you can't follow me anymore. I'm sure Della's getting hungry by now, why don't you take her home?"

Elena hugged her doll tight. "We just moved here, but Della is getting hungry. Will I see you later?"

Lanaey did a tiny tickle play causing Elena to scrunch up her stomach and giggle. "I'm not sure, but I'm staying in the village so we'll probably bumb into each other from time to time. Now get on home."

The little girl jumped forward and gave Lanaey a quick hug before starting to skip off in the direction Lanaey assumed was her home. There was some more talk among the group before Laurel broke off motioning for Lanaey and Annanoldowen to follow her. Walking behind the human youth Lanaey noticed that as they walked straight to a house sheltered among the tree's that a couple of other humans had stopped to stare at the trio. They seemed to be more focused on Laurel than the two strange elves though. Lanaey focused on their faces and feelings. Those humans were worried about how Laurel would react to how her grandfather was doing. He must be about ready to leave this world. Glancing over at Laurel Lanaey could tell that she was preparing herself for just that.

They wound through the house until they got to a darkened room were a very old human lay barely hanging onto his life. Pain was showing out of his eyes, yet he tried to hide it for his loved one.

As Laurel and Havlor conversed for a bit Lanaey thought back to all that she knew about poison. She couldn't think of any times where she encountered poison darts and she only knew a couple cures for poisons. Lanaey came back to herself when Annanoldowen stepped forward to inspect the old man closer. The wound was by his left shoulder and the poison was visible by changing his skin multiple colors by the puncture. The scholarly elf muttered to herself then turned and motioned for Lanaey to come over.

[Kryssal]

Annanoldowen turned to Lanaey. "Do you know about poison?"

Lanaey shrugged slightly. "Not too much, all I can do is assist I'm afraid."

Annanoldowen nodded and looked once more at the ill man. "Laurel, could you get me some hot water and rags. Lanaey, I need you to go get my saddle bad with the herbs in it and then I'll give you both some more instructions."

Laurel had already gone out the door to get the water before the scholarly elf had finished talking. Lanaey started a slow jog through the house and picked up the pace when she got into the open. The horses were near, tethered just beyond the porch of the little home that they were in. Lanaey found the herb sack on her first look through the saddlebags. Upon turning back toward the house Lanaey saw the worried neighbors with curious looks on their faces, ignoring them she started up her jog once more through the home. She could hear voices that were muffled by the walls, but were coming in much clearer as she neared the sick room.

". . .that root. Once you get those three then I'll be able to mix," was Annanoldowen's calm voice.

Lanaey almost bumped into Laurel as the young maiden was quickly exiting the room to fetch the requested items.

"Oh, and get two more bowls. Lanaey, did you get it? Good, if you would place it on the table next to the bowl of water."

Annanoldowen started right away to unpack and group together her different herbs. When it was all out she gathered together a small bunch and put it aside, took two more little pouches and placed them next to the first group, then put the rest back into the saddlebag which then found its place on the floor.

Lanaey just stood there, observing. The scholarly elf then soaked one rag in the warm water and rubbed a faintly pinkish fine powder onto the rag. "Rub this gently onto the wound and try to clean all around the puncture area."

Lanaey took the rag and walked over to the man who looked at the rag with a raised eyebrow, but he didn't comment against her using it on him.

"Excuse me," a voice of a young girl interrupted them, causing Annanoldowen to turn. "Lady Laurel sent me in with these bowls, are they to your liking?"

Annanoldowen smiled. "They are, you can give them to me."

The girl didn't even look at the elf she was talking to, her eyes were riveted on the old man. Coming up close to Annanoldowen she whispered, "Will he be alright?"

The scholarly elf smiled, "We'll try our best. Thank you for the bowls." The girl shuffled out with another glance at Havlor.

As Lanaey rubbed the pink cloth around and on the wound, a smear appeared and seemed to soak into the skin itself. She tried to be as gentle as possible, yet the elderly man winced several times. Lanaey was still applying the cloth to the shoulder area when Laurel came back in.

Annanoldowen poured a little water into one bowl and a lot of water into another. Grabbing the two little herb pouches she opened them and poured select amounts from each into the bowl with a little water. Taking one of the three herbs from Laurel she ground it for a bit onto the table, then sprinkled in just a tiny amount.

"Here, mix this until your arms feel like they want to drop." Annanoldowen handed the bowl to Laurel who sat down and started stiring it from a stick provided by Annanoldowens saddle bag. "Are you done Lanaey? Come stir this water."

Lanaey looked down into the bowl filled with water and nothing else. The scholarly elf handed her another stirring stick from across the table and Lanaey obediently started to swirl the clear water. As she stirred Annanoldowen started to add in the other herbs that she had set aside. Occasionally taking a break from adding materials to grind up some more. Switching arms Lanaey continued to stir the now light brownish green liquid. "There, you can stop now. It has to settle before I can add the final ingredient. How's that paste coming along Laurel?"

Standing up, the young maiden brought over her bowl to show a very thick, yellow mud like mixture.

Annanoldowen smiled. Taking the bowl she went and put half of it onto the shoulder and then wrapped it up tight.

Then they waited. After a good while Annanoldowen added her final powder to the mixture Lanaey had helped with, yet they had to wait more for it to spread through out the entire bowl. When Annanoldowen said that it was ready, they took it over to Havlor and made him drink it all, with him sputtering and grimacing at the taste. After he had drank all the liquid and thought he could rest some more Annanoldowen produced a spoon and fed him the remants at the bottom of the bowl. Lanaey had to snicker at the look that the elderly man gave his healer as she gave him a mouthful of aweful medicine. After he had choked all of that down Annanoldowen made a sweet mixture with the rest of the water that he could drink, easing the bitterness left on his tongue. It also made the old man very tired and he quickly drifted off to sleep. Then Annanoldowen removed the bandages and wipped off the rest of the lingering paste. The wound did look somewhat better, but far from normal. Putting the rest of the paste onto Havlor's shoulder, Annanoldowen wrapped it up once more.

"There. We can just leave this paste on. That's all that I can think of to do for your grandfather Laurel."

Laurel nodded and smiled warmly at Annanoldowen and Lanaey. "Thank you both." Moving over to her kin she kissed the sleeping mans forehead then led the scholarly Elf out to move on to the Swan House.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Manardariel]

"Are you posisitive you met a real elf?" Fiona asked. The sun was setting. The tow girls were on the porch, peeling carrots for a stew. Well, Elena was peeling carrrots. Fiona, on the other hand was balancing along the banaster and using the peels to teach Porridge to "Roll over and play dead".

"Of course I met a real elf! Do you think I´d lie?" Elena said, indignant.

Fiona goaned. Here we go again "Oh, no. It´s just the Lady Laurel is very Elf-like herself. It´s hard to tell a difference, you see." she reassured the other girl.

"Now, Porridge. See this carrot peel? Hmmm. Do you want to have it?" The squirell eagerly sat up and wagged it´s tail. "No, Porridge, that trick is ancient. You Roll over and play Dead! The squirrel just blinked at her. "Oh you stupid thing, Roll over and play Dead! Come on, you can do that!"

"My Daddy says it´s wrong to make wild animals your pets, and teach them tricks and all that." Elena said from behind her. Fionas clenged her fists- hard. Elena, obviously not aware of the peril she was in, continued "Squirells don´t belong in the house. They´re no pets, they´re wild animals- and they´re dangerous."

Fiona turned to Elena. "You´re just a stupid little Miss Priss, aren´t you? You don´t know ANYTHING! Porridge isn´t a pet. He´s my friend. He tells me his secrets, and I tell him mine. I never force him to do anything, and we always understand each other. And he´s not dangerous!! I mean-" her tirade was interrupted by Rian, and ten minutes later she was again locked in her room and once again thought things were NOT going the way they should.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena sat quietly while Rian braided her hair for bed. She really wanted to pick up Della, but she knew that that would make Rian lose her plce in the plaiting. Even though Rian had been so nice about Fiona yelling at her, Elena felt bad.
"Rian" she whispered, swallowing.
"Hmmm?" asked Rian absently, still plaiting Elena's long hair.
"You know Fiona didn't do anything to me"
"She upset you again" said Rian. "She has to learn to be nice to people, instead of those filthy creatures"
Not all animals are filthy! thought Elena, but she didn't want to say anything to upset Rian.
"May I go and see her?" she asked quietly.
"Of course. I'm finished"

With a smile Elena got up, picked up Della and kissed Rian's cheek.
"Thank you for doing my hair. Papa doesn't know how to"

Elena walked to Fiona's door and knocked.
"I won't apologise-" Fiona began from inside the room, pulling the door open.
"Oh. What?"
Elena was scared. The wild girl had a wild look on her face.
"I'm sorry you got in trouble" she whispered. "I'm sorry for what I said about the squirell. It was just what Papa told me. He never let me play with the squirells or anything around our farm. Maybe it's different in a village. Did I tell you about the Elf-lady's horse? He was so beautiful. And really friendly!"
She stopped, looking pleadingly at Fiona. "I really am sorry"

[Manardariel]

Fiona doubtfully looked at the other girl. She was saying sorry?

"Has Rian made a cake?" She asked. When Elena loked at her bewildered, she felt forced to explain "Whenever I do something, Rian says 'Now go apologize and you can have a piece'." Elena looked even more shoked. Fiona noticed her eyes were filling again. Not again! "So, is there a cake?" Elena shook her head.

"I´m.. I´m just sorry." she wispered.

"Ummm" Fiona said. This was awkward. "Ok... fine. Thank you" she added a bit unsurely. Elena smiled shyly. At that moment Rian showed up.

"Bed-time, girls. Come on, Elena." she lead the girl away. Fiona closed her door again and climed on her windowsill. Pity Rian butted in she thought. Maybe Miss Priss would have opened her mouth for a change....

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel left the house with relief filling her to a small extent. Havlor had been treated, but it was no assurance that he would recover. On her way out she found Leena, standing by the main enterance to the town. Greeting her she asked ‘Milady, would you know anything about poison?’ Leena nodded briskly ‘I have studied it somewhat’ Laurel smiled ‘I would ask you then if you could assist Lady Lanaey for the time being? I am in need of expertise, and you would be beneficial’ At that Lady Leena sauntered away to the House of Havlor, and Lady Laurel approached the group setting out, just as Lady Annanoldowen arrived beside her. ‘The Swan House awaits us’ Laurel said glowingly.

~*~

Laurel wandered through the forest. Her steps made no sound. Behind her were a few of her cavalry she had brought back with her, all in awe at what they had seen. Most of the troops had been left at the village, but their representatives had come to see the Lady of these lands, one who is called Swan Queen, Lady Taralphiel. The trek had been for a few hours. Only one horse was with them, and the path was too narrow for free riding, so it was being lead. Its gentle footfalls were all that could be heard by the Men for a long time. But the Elves heard whisperings, murmurs through the trees, as only they could hear. The forest was filled with thin, silvery stemmed and dark trunks, with splaying boughs and deep coloured leaves. Occasionally they would encounter small shrubs of dark green and glossy leaves, with a bright streak of gold and silver. ‘Laurel trees’ she whispered, with a small smile. Thagon held silent, brooding on the choice to leave his comrade behind. Cartil too, wished his sister could see such beauty. Annunfuin was the closest to Laurel, but said naught. Herebrand stood proud and did not bow to the majesty of the forest. Soon the trees made the path a little wider, and the way clearer. It was then that many stopped when looking out to the East. For through the trees cold be seen the clear shine of the ocean, and the long Cliffside running by it. ‘The point is narrowing’ muttered Herebrand to Thagon, who said nothing. Annanoldowen kept aloof from the group and walked in her own thoughts. Laurel stopped, and the others stared in awe.

There, was the house of Taralphiel. A great stone archway revealed the place entwined with vines, which bloomed with jasmine. Stepping through, they saw the beginnings of her abode. The thatched roof bore swans on its edges, and it seemed their wings patterned the tiles. The threshold had no door, but thin gossamer curtains. Many columns supported the weight of the house, and it seemed to pass away for a great space, long into the rest of the forest. ‘I did not imagine such beauty’ sighed Herebrand ‘You cannot imagine this place good sir’ said Laurel.

She lead them to the door, where fair faced maidens took all their travel gear, and rested their feet. Laurel wasted no time in finding her grandmother, and was away long. The party was left to wander the light filled halls. Annanoldowen ran her fingers across the many bookshelves, and her smile was unguarded. Herebrand poured over the shields and armour of the Rohirrim on the walls. Thagon walked through the rooms, and wandered off into the gardens, and saw the tombs of the warriors who had perished only days before. Annunfuin stood by the cliffedge on the East Side of the house, and meditated.

An older maid called the group into the main hall. ‘The Lady Laurel now asks that you choose your rooms for the night, and your gear will be taken there. Then it is the request of the Lady of the House that you all join her in her cliffside room’ All followed maids to beautifully furnished rooms, where the maids placed their things. ‘There are enough rooms here to house many’ marveled Annanoldowen ‘The Children take most of the space’ the woman grinned. A long hallway, lined with portraits and paintings lead to the room of the Swan Lady. All held their breath. They had traveled to the end of the house, and to the point of the cliff. They took in the beautiful open room, and its view on the ocean. There beside, stood Laurel in a gown similar to her ceremonial gown from Calembel, but dazzlingly white. And sitting on the Great Seat, was Lady Taralphiel, Swan Queen, and Lady of the wood of Alphirion.

Her silver hair was long, and she wore a thinly woven bonnet of silver string and pearls. Her silver dress shone with the light of the Moon. Her face was old and worn, but her eyes shone with wisdom and the travelers smiled. On her fingers she bore rings of moonstone, and one ring shaped like a flower, with stones of milky blue in the center. She also wore a chestplate of silver, with light leather buckles tying at the shoulders. And by her seat, she still had her sword, and it shone with the same mournful glow that astonished the warriors. She smiled, and raised her voice, raspy with age, but holding great wisdom.

‘I thank thee all for coming to Dor-En-Ernil, and to Alphirion. As you may have seen, our cause is not faint, and not in vain, at least now. My knowledge of all the years has not prepared me for this attack. Our people are simple folk, not used to wielding swords. They are no army. The attacks have been a constant, but never before have they been in such numbers, and of such ferocity. Women, children, and men alike are not safe from their swords, and fey darts. None of my healing skill has been able to take one back from the dark hands of that poison. They fight without honour, and kill without remorse. That is why I have asked for the most skilled warriors, and most knowledgeable of your people, to come forth, and help us rid the Plains and hills and forests of this scourge. I place my hope and trust with thee, and the blessings of this hallowed place upon thee and thy swords. Tonight you will rest here, and by tomorrow, your friends will join you here. From there, you set out for the Southern Confines, where the enemy has managed to hold camp for the last few nights. Vali be with you tonight’ Her voice echoed through the lightwood, and all smiled in comfort. Laurel stood unmoving, and watched her grandmother survey the eyes of the people as she had done, to see their souls. For few could escape the wisdom of the Swan Lady. At length, someone spoke…

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Hello" Elena said nervously, extending her finger towards the sqirrel. "My Father told me I shouldn't play with animals like you, but Fiona says it's allowed. And anyway, they want me to play with her and she's the Wild Girl"
Elena giggled, and passed a nut from her left hand to the right, the one she was holding towards Porridge.

"He doesn't like most people. Only me"
The voice behind her made Elena jump. Guiltily she turned her head to face Fiona without moving her hand. Did she hear me say she's wild? That's so rude!
With a jump Elena felt pressure on her hand, and turned back to see Porridge leaning from the balcony towards her fingers. Fiona gasped, grabbing Elena's other arm to pull her away. Elena felt the familiar prickling sensation behind her eyes.

With a sob she pulled away and ran downstairs.
"Elena! What's wrong?"
"Papa. It was the wild- wild-"
Elena felt bad saying it was Fiona who made her cry. She probably didn't mean to, and Elena was making friends with her friend. That was probably not nice. LIke if someone took Della away.
"It was wild- men, Papa. Big ugly ones with hair all over running through the village"
Papa's face went pale.
"Oh no. We have to tell everyone, try to get away.. How could this happen again?"
Distractedly he pulled Elena into a hug. "We will be fine, El. Don't worry. I'll get us out of here."
Elena felt very scared. Why is doing this? He isn't worried about the wild girl, or the father who eats people! But he doesn't know about them...
"P-Papa, it was just my pretend- there's no real wild men"

"Elena, you mustn't do that"
Papa still looked pale and scared. Elena began to cry again.
"Elena you must learn that I don't know the difference between your pretends and what is real. You should have learned from last time. I'm going to have to send you to your room"
Quietly Elena crept to her room. She felt very silly, small and sorry but she wasn't crying.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil had walked past the Laurel trees with eyes full of interest. The lovely and breath taking sight of the archway was the next thing that sent his eyes wide. The swans on the edges of the roof looked as if they were just about to take flight. Cartil and the rest of the followers were led into the house, and their gear was whisked away by fair maidens as Laurel went to find her grandmother.

The hall was filled with old and historical items, and Cartil marveled at the old swords that were mounted on the wall. They were polished clean but were obviously quite old. Cartil had lifted his hand to run a finger along the blade, but he was stopped as a middle-aged woman came and asked the travelers to choose a room. Once room arrangements had been taken care of, the group was led towards the room of the Swan Lady.

The group passed by several doorways to bedrooms and portraits and hangings as they walked through the hallway. Cartil could hear children behind one door talking in hushed whispers and could hear the creaking of a bed; perhaps one child had decided to jump on the beds. Once in the Swan Lady's chamber, they were met by Laurel and presumably the Swan Lady.

The Swan Lady spoke, and Cartil tried to hide a grimace as she spoke of placing her trust and hope in the strangers. Cartil was mystified by the place he was in, but could not help but feel extreme sympathy for the Lady and her people. When the Swan Lady had finished her speech, there was a moment of awkward silence that even Cartil could not bear. Cartil bowed respectfully to the Swan Lady.

"Milady," he began, and the Swan Lady smiled a kindly smile, which reminded Cartil of his own grandmother. Cartil had been sent from Gondor to deliver tidings of support from the King, but at that point, he was speechless and dumbfounded in front of the Lady. "My - My family is from Tarnost, north of the Dor-en-Ernil. I cannot help but think and worry that if these...barbarians get through the Swan Woods, they will continue on until they are stopped. I have to wonder where they will go next if they are not stopped now. It hurts to know that this house is full of children who became orphans thanks to wild men, and I don't know what I would do if my family were threatened. I will help your people to any extent necessary to stop the murderers that are harming your people and kin."

With that, Cartil bowed again, and turned to face Laurel. "Milady, if you still have the notice from Gondor that I gave to you on our first meeting, I believe Lady Taralphiel would like to see it."

~*~

Jess stood near the center of Alphirion, her eyes focused on the skies, with billowing clouds and the greying color threatening rain. Jess held a chubby little boy in her left arm, his weight supported on her hip, and a little girl held her right hand. Sparrow had not been allowed to go with Cartil to the Swan Lady's home, so he was stuck with the little sister.

"It is going to rain soon, why don't you go home and find your daddy or mommy?" Jess cooed, gently squeezing the little girl's hand and hugging the boy. The girl let out a sob, and Jess' brows furrowed with confusion.

"We don't have a daddy!" The girl wailed, and Jess sighed. "The wild men got him!"

"Well, want me to walk you home to your mommy? I'm sure she can make everything better!" Jess reasoned, trying to sound strong for the children. With the girl's directions, Jess was able to navigate Alphirion and find the children's home. The children scurried inside when their mother opened the door.

"I trust they were good little children while they were out?" The woman asked, wiping floury hands on a dirty apron. She had bags under her eyes and her forhead was wrinkled with worry, but Jess could see that underneath the woman was probably only about five years older than her.

"Of course," Jess replied warmly and smiled at the woman. Before Jess could say anything else, a loud cracking noise and a huge booming sound thundered over Alphirion.

"Well, it isn't every day that the children get to meet someone who can actually wield a sword. All of you warriors coming is a blessing. Our husbands are...or were...good men, but most of them couldn't hold a sword or bow without hurting themselves with them. Child, it is going to storm soon, would you like to come inside?"

"No, thank you. I need to see to my brother's horse. It was nice meeting you," Jess replied, and then had second thoughts just before the woman nodded and closed the door. "Wait! Ma'am, if you would, I think it would be a good idea for you to try and find a safe hiding place in your home. Even better, find a place near a window."

The woman didn't even have to ask why. The wild men were unpredictable. If they came at unawares during a storm, few would survive. They might even torch the buildings. The woman nodded, suggested that Jess take shelter as well, and went inside. Jess turned away from the door just in time to feel raindrops fall from the sky.

Jess wandered over to Sparrow, and the horse grunted at the sight of the girl. He whinnied, and snorted at her. Jess didn't care, and put her right arm over Sparrow's whithers. Then she spoke aloud to no one in particular.

"We know our enermy, we don't know why they are our enemy. But when they come, we will fight. Not for some glorious cause, but to survive. We have no time to prepare, but once the Wild men are upon us, the ferocity of battle will determine the fate of the Swan Wood." Jess stood out in the rain nervously, waiting for something or someone to pierce through the calm sprinkle of rain.

[ May 25, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[maikafanawen]

The beauty of Swan Wood and its Lady’s house was overwhelming. The trees like towers of silver were just the beginning of its wonder. Never had Annanoldowen seen such a marvel for no books could tell the splendor of this part. The only other place whose majesty ran close was that of Lórien. The elf’s booted feet tread lightly over the ground splayed with gold and silver reflections.

The company was greeted by swan maids who led them inside and to beautifully furnished rooms. Annanoldowen laid her things on the creamy silk that covered the large feather bed in the center back of the room and a maiden parted the curtains that hung over wall length windows, letting in mystical beams of sunlight that broke through the forest canopy. Bowing respectfully, the maid left, closing the intricately designed laurel doors behind her.

Annanoldowen changed into a dress of Rivendell style that was the color of the rushing Gwathló River. Elegant sleeves billowed out to her slender hands and the bodice was woven delicately from silver threads and clasped in the back with silver leaves. The elf let down and brushed her wavy hair, pinning it loosely in the back with a fanciful ornament of blue making. Upon her feet she wore slippers of the lightest fabric, and her feet passed as a silent whisper upon the marbled floors.

She met the rest of Laurel’s recruits in Taralphiel’s hall. The Swan Lady had changed much since Annanoldowen had last seen her. She had withered slightly, but still held the noble aura of power and regime. The scholarly elf bowed deep and listened as she addressed the newcomers.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel looked over the travelers with a smile. All seemed to be weary, and their faces told much. She immediately recognised Rudhchamion, and his curt nod was all that was needed between the two for now. She also saw the Lady Annanoldowen, and smiled at her. It seemed many she had hopd had heard her summons.

Her attention was then drawn to the first young man of the group to speak, and she listened intently.

"Milady...My - My family is from Tarnost, north of the Dor-en-Ernil. I cannot help but think and worry that if these...barbarians get through the Swan Woods, they will continue on until they are stopped. I have to wonder where they will go next if they are not stopped now. It hurts to know that this house is full of children who became orphans thanks to wild men, and I don't know what I would do if my family were threatened. I will help your people to any extent necessary to stop the murderers that are harming your people and kin."

Taralphiel studies the sincerity in the mans eyes and smiled. 'This is what makes a good soldier' she thought to herself. He then asked Laurel to present a scroll to her, which she quickly produced. He went on to explain that it was from King Elessar himself. Taralphiel nodded and placed it reveently on her lap, before speaking:

'Good Sir Cartil, I am very pleased that you have come here. Your passion for life and your people is what makes hope and joy from it. But I cannot lead ye astray. You are correct. If the Wild Men capture Alphirion, they will strike out further, and we cannot let that happen. That, is why you are here. And I thank you for it'

Cartil seemed to find comfort in her gaze and words, and she nodded at him to show she knew what it is he thought.

Taralphiel then turned to the rest of the group...

[Taralphiel]

Cuor heard the troops of the Wild King rally together in uncouth shouts. Again a great party was divided. Cuor snuck his head around a tent to see what the King had to say.

'This time we know what their weakness is!
We shall hit them where they will not be able to recover! On both fronts!!!'

The soldiers cheered and yelled in their foul tongue, and after more verbal lashings of the people of Swan Wood, the King let them off to prepare themselves.

Cuor then slinked in through the tent flaps to talk with the King. 'Ah, my little poiny eared spy! Welcome!' Cuor presented himself, marvelling at the Kings good mood.

'I came to ask of Swan Wood...and its inhabitants...' 'Aye, ye be a bold one! Yes, we shall not hurt her. You shall come with us and take her yourself' Cuor bowed and stepped out. 'Oh! But ye must also make sure ye get Gita back safely too! I do no' want my two best spies to be lost!'

Cuor left with a darker look on his face 'I do not trust that wench! She will try to ruin my plans!!' And he stalked off to brood on it more...

[Kryssal]

Leena had taken over watching over the aged Havlor because Lanaey didn't know what else to do with him. The sick room was heavy and beat upon the Elf's back as she went about doing small tasks as Leena bade.

"Is there anything else you might be needed my services for?" Lanaey asked Leena who was resting in a chair at the moment.

Leena gave a thin smile. "Nothing. If I need help I'll send word."

Lanaey nodded and stepped out of the oppressive room. Lanaey felt that she needed to clear her mind and search herself. She wouldn't be of much use if she had another inner battle, of which she'd probably lose because she couldn't even see the battlefield, much less the obstacle that was hindering her so badly.

Lanaey walked over to Drass and said hello by rubbing the horses nose. Drass seemed eager for a ride so Lanaey obliged her. They didn't go far, just jaunted around the town a bit. Many of the folk would pause to stare at her as she passed, but Lanaey noticed none of it. Her mind was blank and she didn't even try to fill it with thoughts. Nothingness meant that she didn't need to work anything out. It was the easy way and she greedily took it. Once she realized that she had taken it, the Elf felt sick at herself. Stopping Drass she got off and sat down. After a few seconds she tipped over and lay on her side, staring at a grass stem. Drass whined a bit, nudged Lanaey, then went and layed down behind her master.

What do I know? I realize that I am having struggles withen myself for reasons unknown to my conscious self. Perhaps I am like that old man back in the village, dying of a slow poison. Or maybe like his village, the one that was attacked. The one where many died. . . Death, that's the key. And for an Elf? The death that awaits is never forthcoming unless inflicted by an outside source. Or an inside one. . .

Lanaey's mind rambled on and on. There were several thought repititions, like the village she was currently in. Her thoughts also followed much of her life time-line, and at points it simply went blank. It was in one of those blank points in time when something snapped to the forefront of her conscious, startling her so much that she forgot to breath for several moments.

Family

What had startled Lanaey so was that she saw a clear picture of the family she once had, and in that mental image, she was happy. Pushing up on one elbow, she pondered something that was so simple in view. When her husband had died she had started to reject the life that she had known because it no longer had her lover in it. Then, when her son died, Lanaey completely dissociated with it. The only continuous theme throughout her life was combat, and that was what she had totally committed herself to doing in order to forget.

But her soul didn't want to give up the happiness that she had once lived with. The Elf had always felt promtings to do things and she never did quite understand why she would do them. Even in her fighting, she chose the fights that helped out families the most.

I'm so blind and this happiness and love is so simple. I let something so small, yet important for every living creature, eat me away until it attacked me. Now, I'm a mess.

Lanaey got up so quickly that Drass neighed in surprise. She suddenly decided to do something that she hadn't done since her husband had died. Turning toward the land and closing her eyes, she sang. The words were not important and half-way through the lament her voice failed her. A few tears ran down her cheeks and clung to her face. Breathing deeply the Elf then said a small prayer of sorts. Her boy, who loved to get into spiritual modes of thinking, often said that when things like this happened, it was a rebirth for the being. He had argued that no Elf lived forever because of the many rebirths they would go through. A small, welcome smile came to Lanaey as she thought of when her son had argued these points to her those many years ago.

Lanaey turned quickly. Something was wrong. In studying herself so selfishly she had ignored the village and the land around it. Jumping onto Drass Lanaey galloped to the center of town with new life and resolve filling her core.

~*~

Idly wondering if she should have tried harder to go to the Swan House, Leena wandered the streets of the village. She was bored, to say the least, and it would have been nice to have Thagon there to tease; it would have made the time pass faster at least.

Sighing, the priestess sat down against a small tree off the side of a road leading out of town. She swiped the back of her neck and grimaced. The gritty sweat that rubbed off on her hand made her want to run and take a bath, but she knew she’d get to that soon. Right now she was trying to rest up a bit.

A small cat came up to her and got a nice head rub for its efforts. Laughing at the incessant purring Leena continued to pet and play with the spotted feline. It was almost napping in the gray fold of her dress when it suddenly flipped over, hissed at something behind the warrior and ran off to the nearest house with its hair completely on end.

“What was-” Leena stood up as fast as her catching dress would let her. When the cat had screeched off the maiden turned to see what the matter was, expecting to see another animal. Instead she saw wild men; they had seen her too. Cursing she ran crookedly until safely behind a building, barely escaping several darts. One particular dart had hit and stuck in the edges of her skirt. She quickly yanked the offending object out, careful not to touch the poisoned tip.

Gently sliding out her slender sword from its worn scabbard, Leena tried to double back around the house to get behind the men that she had seen. Two of the invaders were going around just that way to catch her and they faced at the corner. Lunging forward before the leading man was able to clear the corner and bring his sword to use, she stabbed him with the dart and completed the lunge by jumping over the poisoned man and bringing her sword into the second mans gut. The impaled man sputtered and fell backwards, allowing Leena to yank out her sword with little difficulty. In the same movement it took to take the sword out of the now dead man she brought the hilt into the back of the head of the dart victim. Just because he was poisoned didn’t mean that he couldn’t kill her before he went out for good.

The fight was over in mere moments and Leena wanted to get at the other brigands before they noticed that their comrades weren’t returning right away. Gathering up a dagger and all the darts that she could find on the corpses, she turned to find her next opponent.

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[maikafanawen]

Gita emerged from her tent, fully clothed in the usual wear of those of the Swan House. Extremely pleased with her clever guise, she draped her black cloak over her shoulders and ran through the shadows on her way to the house.

Night covered her in its protective blanket, shielding her from unwanted eyes. The Laurel trees stood high above her path, perfect and pure in the moon’s beams. Gita cursed the moon in its fullness. It would not be good for the wild men tonight.

Finally she reached the house and discarded the cloak, leaving it behind a tree in some bushes. Adopting her most serene look, she floated into the house and down the corridor to the servant’s quarters. There she busied herself with some unimportant tasks until one of the elder servants called to her.

“Will you take these sheets up to the fourth bedroom from the right of the second staircase. They’ve been needing changing since this morning.” Gita nodded, not meeting the woman’s gaze and took the sheets in her outstretched arms. Excited now with an opportunity to find out who occupied which rooms, she hurried up the first staircase on purpose. She knocked on the first door and a nurse opened the door holding a two year old boy in her arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Gita. “Wrong room. Oh if you could, I’ve forgotten which room these belong.” She held up the pale green sheets for the woman to see.

“Oh I see. Yes, second corridor actually. These are mostly blue and purple sheets in these bedrooms. Are those for one of the new guests?”

“Guests?” asked Gita, hiding her interest.

“Yes. A group of warriors and of the kind have come to aid against the wild men should they attack again.”

“I see,” the spy mused, nodding her thanks to the nurse. The woman closed the door and Gita hurried to the correct room. She knocked and getting no answer opened the door. On the bed lay a traveler’s pack and beside it was a cloak. She was in the room of one of the ‘guests’. Carefully moving the pack and cloak from its place on the bed, she changed the sheets quickly.

When she was finished she carefully closed the door and began snooping around the room for any other clues. Finding none, she left the room and hurried through the halls, hiding from passer bys as she searched for where the warriors and Taralphiel were holding their meeting.

Finally, she reached a balcony room towards the back of the house. She hid behind a column and listened intently as they conversed.

[Taralphiel]

... Taralphiels eyes went dark, and a low snarl escaped her throat that took the others off guard. She let out a string of words in the Olden tongue

'A Eldar...dagor..' and she dove for her sword. The Elves shot their gaze around, and Radhchamion leapt forward to the throne.

Annunfuin asked Laurel what she had said. Laurel muttered 'One word good sir...war'

~*~

The Wild King gazed over the great plain with pleasure. With a swift hand movement, his troops ran down to the village like a rush of water. He then motioned to an archer who shot a single lit arrow into the now inky darkness. With that his second army would attack the forest.

'Good' he purred 'War!'

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil heard Laurel’s muttered reply to Annunfuin. He drew his sword at this, ready for whatever would come next. The group edged towards the Swan Lady, clumping together in a single group. Footfalls could be heard, like thunderous booms ringing throughout the silenced group. Thagon took a step forward, listening intently.

“We cannot leave the children without protection,” said he. At that, Rudhchamion, Ohtaredan, and Herebrand darted off down the hall, and Cartil assumed he was off to act on Thagon’s words.

Cartil continued to edge backward, step-by-step. He was a bit nervous, for diplomacy was where his greater talents were. But sometimes, there is no room for diplomacy. Backing towards a column just left of where the Swan Lady was being protected. He bumped into one of the maids of the Swan House as he took his careful, nervous steps.

“Oh, forgive me, lady,” Cartil apologized hurriedly. He spread out his arms, hoping to protect the woman from whatever was raiding the Swan House. “We need to be careful, they are coming!”

As Cartil finished his whispered warning, arrows began to whistle through the windows of the chamber and door. Shouts and calls from the hallway became fully audible, and the former mumblings that had been heard became full-blown war cries. Cartil grimaced, and tried, but failed, to mentally count the many different voices he heard. Cartil lifted his sword, and spoke to the lady he had bumped into.

“Miss, perhaps you should run, and not look back. This will most likely get…ugly,” Cartil murmured, watching as darts and arrows flew past his viewpoint. He waited for his chance to dart forward and do something, like a child who waits for the right moment to hop into the rhythm of a jump rope.

Cartil had been so caught up with timing, that he hadn’t even noticed the woman he was trying to protect and help escape draw a dagger. Without warning, a great shout erupted from the mouth of the woman, and pressed against Cartil’s neck was the drawn, slender dagger. Another was pressed against his stomach, pressing hard.

“Drop the sword,” ordered the woman shortly. At first, Cartil resisted and stood silently and still. The woman seemed prepared for this, however, and simply pressed her daggers closer to Cartil’s neck and stomach. Blood trickled from a cut in his neck. After that, Cartil obeyed and his sword clattered to the ground.

~*~

Jess had just finished shooing a few other children home, and then went back over to a skittish Sparrow. She lit a torch to brighten the gloom that had settled over Alphirion with the night. The chill wind ruffled Jess’ rumpled black hair in passing, and one slightly stronger gust of wind would send Sparrow into a whinnying fit.

A little while later, Lanaey came galloping up on Drass to where Jesslyn stood, and dismounted quickly with all the usual Elven grace. She seemed refreshed somehow, as if a great weight had been lifted from her fragile shoulders. Drass and Sparrow grunted and neighed at each other, and then Sparrow turned away from Drass, backside towards Lanaey’s good horse. Lanaey opened her mouth to say something, but Jess suddenly became wide-eyed and pointed to one slightly hilly edge of Alphirion. Though black as the ebony night, movements and shapes could be easily seen through the trees.

“Wild men!” Jess cried simply.

As if they had heard Jesslyn speak, a tremendous roar became terribly audible to the two women, a great cry let out through the wave of riffraff warriors. Arrows spiraled down into the city, wailing and whistling as they either snapped silently to the ground or twirled into the roof or door of a home.

“The people! We have to get them out of here!” spoke Lanaey hurriedly. Jess nodded, and became terribly aware of her inability to stay calm under pressure.

“But everyone is practically asleep by now!” wailed Jess, trying to stay strong but ultimately failing horribly. “Where in Middle-Earth is everyone else? We have to save everyone! Eru, where are the other travelers?”

When Jess’ voice faltered, the archers of the Wild men began to use fire on the tips of their arrows.

[ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Kryssal]

"Quickly, ride by the houses and wake the people." Lanaey turned and got her bow off of Drass as quickly as she could. While she was stringing it an arrow sped by her to barely miss a dodging Jess. Locking Jess with a quick look, the young human took heart, jumped on her horse and darted off toward the nearest house with a high pitched yell calling out attack.

Nocking her bow, Lanaey took defense behind a mid-sized tree that left her slightly exposed. With a few clicks of her tongue she sent Drass into hiding, who quickly went behind the nearest building. Turning to the side of the tree to face the invaders, the Elf quickly took aim and let her arrow fly. Without waiting to see if her aim had been true, she swiveled back into a protected position and grabbed another arrow.

She could hear the village coming around and hoped that the people wouldn't be rash and run right into the invaders arrows. Of course, the brigands wouldn't use bows soon; they were riding past the edges of the village.

Glancing around the tree Lanaey spotted two riders that were practically touching each other as they charged forward. She took careful aim and released. She didn't stay exposed to watch like the time before, but she heard her success this time. The horse on the left neighed sharply and collided into the other, knocking both riders to the ground. Lanaey felt a twang of guilt for hitting the innocent horse, but this fight was one she wasn't prepared to lose.

Giving a shrill whistle Lanaey let loose one more arrow then stepped away from the tree as Drass came galloping up. Drass didn't slow down in passing. Lanaey took two quick steps, grabbed the pomel with precise timing and swung up. Locking her bow into it's emergency holding strap she unsheathed her sword and started toward a side opponent.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw others, villagers and warriors who had come out and were fighting. Grinning at their bravery on the inside, Lanaey swung at the wild man who had tried to impale her at their first passing, and had failed. Yelling a wordless cry she leaned low in the saddle to avoid another slighlty clumsy blow and felt her sword slide cleanly into the mans gut. Wrenching her sword free Lanaey turned Drass around once again to find the next closest invader.

~*~

There were so many dead! Leena had killed three more wild men so far, but had seen at least twenty fallen villagers and five dead Rohirrim fighters.

Currently she was chasing down a fleeing invader who she had seen kill a child. The memory flashed behind her eyes, stealing from her concentration as it played out once again in her mind.

- A young child, no more than six summers old, running out from his hiding place to hold his just killed father. The wild man laughing as the boy cried and tripped when he finally reached the dead villager. The small boy hugging his fathers middle, tears still flowing unendingly. The brigand picking the tiny form up sneering, “Want to see him again?”

Not waiting for the child to answer he snapps the young ones neck and drops him like a maiden would a soiled cloth. -

Leena had been dispatching another killer when she saw the bits and pieces unfold from across the road. Giving a terrifying yell she ran to the boy. The wild man had heard her cry, saw her eyes, saw her coming towards him and he ran, dropping his sword as he turned to flee. Pausing to touch the boy’s still warm cheek and to mutter a quick word of prayer, Leena had gathered her fading strength and started in on the chase that led out of the town and through the forest. She wasn’t paying attention to the land as it passed by her in blurs, her only focus was on the weaving figure before her.

This one will die of his own poison, but not before I gut him.

Seeing her prey falter slightly up ahead she put on a burst of speed and stumbled on a bit of her dress as it caught beneath her again. Cursing yet again she kept up the pace and was soon on the man, tackling him from behind with a dagger leading the attack.

Crying out as he fell, the man started to beg for his life. “Ple..please. I didn’t..I’m….I don’t even have a weapon!” The figure was pitiful, writhing on the forest floor trying to back away from the advancing priestess.

Leena’s face screwed up in revulsion. She took her sword and thrust it into his belly, then took out one of the stolen darts as he screamed and spit up blood. Kneeling down she embedded it into his chest, right above the heart, much like when someone hits a table with their fist.

“Now you have two.”

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Manardariel]

Wild girl. Wild, mad girl that eates raw meat. Wild girl. Wild, bad girl. Wild girl. Wild girl The words rang in Fiona´s ears. She felt like killing someone, or like crying. Was she really wild? Wild and mad and as scary as hell? Maybe Porridge thought so too. Or why was he playing with Elena now, instead of her? Fiona felt her eyes filling. How could he have done this to her? They´d been best friends, and then that girl had shown up. Elena with her little doll and her neat braids. Elena, who never ripped her clothes, and who was never slapped by Rian. Elena, who was said sorry when there wasn´t a cake. Elena, with those clean hands and big, frightened eyes. Elena who hated her. Fiona had always thought she just was scared, but by now she was sure Elena hated her. Fiona felt rage rise in her. How dare she? Come here and steal her sister, then her friend. Maybe she´ll steal Hurin next, or Shadow!

Fuming with anger, she walked over to the well. Maybe she could rip her doll´s hair out, or cut her braids off while she was asleep. Or she could make a big stain on her dress. Yes, that would be it! Elena would be in deep trouble, and Fiona would wear a clean dress, and everyone would say "Look at Fiona. Her dress isn´t stained and dirty." And then she´d know what it feels like, and she´d leave, and let us alone!

"Fiona! Get out of there, quick!" Someone yelled. Fiona couldn´t quite determine who it was, maybe her brother Aragorn? But, no, Aragorn´s voice was never so exited so full of panik. Fiona shrugged and turned around. Suddenly she saw a dark, hooded, ENORMOUS figure run at her. What was that? The figure came closer. Fiona broke into a run, her little feet barely touching the ground. Away, only away! She turned around a corner, spotting Elena talking to her doll.

"Miss Priss, get your braids OUT OF HERE!!!!" she yelled. Elena turned around, perplex, taken a back. She shrieked and started to run. But it was too late. Another of those creatures -were they people?- scopped both of them up. Fiona yelled, bit, kicked- but it was totally useless. He just laughed and held them tighter.

"Elena?" Fiona poked Miss Priss in the side. "Don´t you dare cry. We´ve GOT to find a way to get away!"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Out! Now! Evacuate! The Wild Men are surrounding Alphirion!" Jesslyn cried in her loudest voice, and rapped on any door she could reach as Sparrow sent the girl racing down the cobbled streets. People began to file out at her call, and children whined and rubbed their sleepy eyes while angry parents groaned.

"Any young children and elderly must evacuate now!" Jess ordered. Horrified children shook their heads until older, wiser women and men ushered the children towards a safe haven as they saw fit. There remained a large population of teenagers, young adults, and middle-aged people, men and women. A few of them were even younger then Jess, the way it looked.

"You need to find weapons now, and defend your homes. Five or six trained warriors would not stand a chance against such a band of barbarians. I hate to get you all involved but..."

"We're already involved," a boy a little older than Jess spoke up from the crowd. "This is our home, not yours. We can't stand around and leave it to burn."

"I'm terrified," whispered a girl from beside the boy, her voice barely audible to begin with, yet it echoed through the group. The boy's steady hand was placed on her frail shoulder.

"Weapons," murmured Jesslyn Stone absently. Young men ran from their spots, returning quickly with two or three weapons in hand. Satisfied, Jess shook her head in momentary sorrow for the young in the group, who probably should have left with the even younger children.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a horrendous chant, war cries simultaneously shouted. The villagers went to work defending their home. They fought with a bravery and pride that Jesslyn had once thought was sadly lacking in the run-down Dor-en-Ernil area.

Jesslyn joined in on their fight as well, after all, that was why she was there. Jesslyn had, by that time, shooed the skittish Sparrow away and drawn her sword. Towards the middle of Alphirion there were very few or no barbaric intruders, but as Jess neared the edges of the village, more and more Wild Men had to be dealt with or entirely avoided.

[ June 01, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel looked around wildly at the group left to guard her grandmother. Letting out a growl 'Cartil!!' The Wild Men were now running rampant through the House, ransacking and executing as they went. A huddle of Maidens, and old woman and a few soldiers were all left in the back room. But that did not last long as a group of 5 or so stormed in.

Laurel leapt forward with a heaving cry. Locking swords with the first Wild soldier, she knocked him soundly in the knee to unnerve him, then ran him through with the cold ring of her sword. Lashing out again, she moved from that soldier to the next, fghting with a wild sort of glee. Taralphiel watched with eyes of stone.

Laurel removed a hidden dagger and threw it into the neck of another soldier, then swftly turning and catching another off guard, and planting her sword in his gut. Soon the other soldiers were in the fray, and all were downed.

Panting heavily, Laurel raced for the hallway where the Rohirrim had gone with a roar. 'Laurel!' cried Taralphiel. Laurel turned and saw her point down the smaller garden pathway. Laurel nodded, and moved down slowly.

Searching for some sign of life, a scent of sound, she did not have to wait long. A hissing female voice ran through the dank cold. Gritting her teeth, she threw away her caution. With a blood-curdling scream she crashed through the trees...

[maikafanawen]

Gita pressed the daggers against her prisoner and waited until his sword clanked to the floor.

“Good,” she whispered. “Now what to do with you?” Wild men where filing into the hall, fighting as they went, without mercy slaying any of the house. Gita whistled and they turned towards her. “Taralphiel,” she said, “is that way.” She pointed towards the doors just before her. They grinned and moved towards the hall, weapons raised. “Don’t kill her you fools!” she spat. “The king will be wanting her.”

Then the memory of the Swan Lady Cuor fancied crossed her mind. Where was she? She gestured to two of the men to grab each of Cartil’s arms and hold him firmly.

“Don’t let him go! Take him to the king!” With that she dissolved back into the shadows of the house, moving as quickly as she could along the walls, searching for Cuor’s prize.

* * *

Annanoldowen heard the men shortly after Taralphiel. She reached down for her sword only to remember she had left it in her room. Silent as a wraith, she left the hall and disappeared up to her room. The wild men had only swarmed in upon the first floor and the upstairs were still clear. She buckled on her sword and went to help Rudhchamion, Ohtaredan, and Herebrand protect the children.

On her way she caught sight of a slender she-figure sliding through the shadows, a terrible look on her face. Sheathing her sword, Annanoldowen followed, her elf feet making no noise on the cool marble. The first ray of sunlight that broke through to reveal the woman she followed showed her to be a maid of the swan house—or by the way she was moving and looking, and imposter.

There was barely anything Annanoldowen could do when Laurel came rushing down the hall and the opposite end. The woman leapt to the side, a slender dagger suddenly in her hand. The elf sprinted towards her and with a silent slice of her sword, knocked the weapon from her hand and grabbed her around the neck, threatening her with her blade. The woman was stronger though than Annanoldwen and struggled fiercely. Laurel was almost upon them by the time she got free. She sank her fist violently into Annanoldowen’s stomach and wrenched out of her grasp and back into the shadows down the hall, slipping out of view.

“Who was it?” demanded Laurel, she was sweating freely, a look of anger upon her face.

“An imposter. Come, the children—” Annanoldowen held her sword again before her and followed Laurel, who crossed in front of her, back again towards the wild men.

* * *

Gita ran until she was out of sight of the elf lady and ... the Swan Lady. So, she thought, massaging the place where the elf had grabbed her. That’s what Cuor wants. Grinning wickedly, she made her way out of the house. Drawing a second dagger from her guise, she crept around the side of the house to the front. The guards had been killed and wild men were entering freely.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Miss Priss, get your braids OUT OF HERE!!!!"
Elena started at the sound of Fiona's voice. She really sounded wild. She wanted Elena to leave. Elena turned slowly, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Fiona was being carried by some sort of monster. A huge, black, ugly monster. Elena screamed.

She barely felt as she was picked up by another monster as she just stared at Fiona in shock.
"Don´t you dare cry. We´ve GOT to find a way to get away!"
Elena gulped. Strangely enough the prickle had disappeared. Her shock seemed to be too strong to let her cry.
The monster began to laugh at Fiona, Elena could feel the shaking as he carried her along.
"Fiona" she whispered "I'm scared. How will we get out?"
Fiona gazed back with fierce eyes.
"We'll think of something"

Suddenly Elena was glad she had the wild girl with her. She would probably be good at thinking of ways to escape.
Without warning the monsters dumped Fiona and Elena on the ground. They seemed to be in some sort of camp of monsters, only there were men erally. Elena could see from others who were not covered like these two. The two men pushed them into a tent, then sat down outside the door.
"Get away from that" one of them said, then they began to laugh.

Fiona immediately began to talk as Elena looked around the tent.
"Right. We need to-"
Elena spotted a huddled bundle in a corner. As she walked over, it turned a tear stained face to her.
"Rian?" Elena asked.
The face just burst into noisy sobs.
Elena began to talk excitedly.
"Rian, you can help us to get out, Fiona look! Rian's here! We'll be fine, she's big..."
Her voice trailed off. Rian was just sitting there, rocking back and forth. Fiona came and looked over Elena's shoulder.

"I don't think she will help much" she said, witha small smile at Elena. Elena tried to smile back, then was surprised at herself when it worked.
"What- what sort of a plan?" she asked slowly.

[Manardariel]

Fiona studied her sister in disgust. Honestly, she was the only grown up here, and accting like a big, fat crybaby. It seemed Fiona was alone in the middle of danfer, as a help only Elena, who -supris, suprise!- wasn´t crying but had, in fact, just smiled at her.

"What- what sort of a plan?" Elena asked.

Fiona started chewing her lip for a moment. She needed to think of something brilliant, something to get them out of danger, and to prove to Rian she wasn´t only mad and wild. Mad girl... mad girl, that was an idea.

"Ok. What we do is... can you make yourself throw up?" Elena shook her head, horrifried. "Good, then I´ll do that. So, I throw up on you, and you start sreaming and yelling. They come in, and I yell and scream some nonsense. Something like 'You have murdered the son of the Heavens! You will DIE!!' They´ll be really freaked, and ask you what´s up with me. You say I´m a madgirl, and that you´re very scared of me. Say my father -make sure they hear his name, Sir Rindal, yes?- keeps me in the attic and never lets me eat, and that I´m REALLY crazy! They´ll look at me, and while they do so, you and Rian run for it. I´ll scream some more, then I´ll throw up on them, and they´ll be so freaked out I can run without them following me. What do you think?"

Fiona was more then pleased with herself. This plan was brilliant, it couldn´t fail. How ironic, though. To show Rian -and Elena- she wasn´t a stupid "madgirl", she had to pretend to be one. Well, whatever it took to get them out of here.

[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena listened in wonderment to Fiona's plan. It sounded very clever. It also sounded...funny. She tried to stop a grin, but couldn't. Then a giggle burst through, sounding like snort. Fiona looked at her in confusion. Elena couldn't stop imagining Fiona being sick on the monsters. It would be horrible, but still funny. She strted laughing and laughing.

Fiona looked at her in surprise for a while, then began to giggle too. The two girls kept on for a few minutes. After they had both stopped, Elena tried to look seriously at Fiona, and kind of succeeded.
"I don't want to run away and leave you here" she whispered, darting a glance at the front of the tent.
"We have to do this plan" Fiona whispered back fiercely.
Thoughtfully Elena nodded, then reached over and squeezed Fiona's hand. Both girls looked astonished.

"Go on then" Elena whispered regretfully. Her dress was already crumpled and torn but now she would have Fiona's sick on it too. Suddenly it seemed less funny. She closed her eyes until she heard a retching noise. With a small shudder she began to scream.

The guard rushed in.
"QUIET!" he roared. Elena kept screaming. e walked towards her.
"It's the mad girl! Help!" she said, voice shaking. She sounded scared enough, although it was of the guard not Fiona.
Then Fiona began to shriek.
"Murder! You have murdered the sons of Heaven. All will die. All will die!"

It was spooky. Elena shivered. She turned to the guard again.
"Please, her father- Sir Rindal- he doesn't let her out of her room! She's dangerous! You can't keep us here with her."
Another guard ran in. Fiona was still babbling wildly. The two guards began to talk together. Elena's head was spinning. The guards went towards Fiona. She saw that now was the time to go. She turned around. Rian had gone back into the corner.
Oh no!

"Rian!" she whispered urgently. Any minute the guards would stop looking at Fiona. Any minute! Rian ignored her. Desperately Elena ran over and tugged at her arm. Rian moaned. It was too loud! They would hear!

Quickly Elena put her hand over Rian's mouth. Then she pulled her to her feet and began to run.

Fiona I hope you'll be safe she thought guiltily as they sped away. At least Ran was running on her own now. She had got ahead of Elena. In fact, Elena couldn't see her anymore. She looked around, but Rian was behind her. Elena had reached the edge of the camp and was near the trees. Rian had sat down between two tents, and Elena could see monsters- men- moving around.

I can't leave her! she thought desperately. I'll have to go back.
Gathering her courage, Elena turned and headed towards Rian.

"Hey!"
One of the monsters was pointing at them. Elena ran faster than she ever had before and pulled Rian's arm again. Slowly the older girl got up. She wouldn't run. Elena had to push her. She was crying now, as hard as she had laughed before.

"Rian please! Please" she begged over and over. Rian just looked at her blankly. they had made it back to the trees. After only a few minutes, Elena could go no further. She slumped down by a tree, then crawled into a patch of bushes, not even checking if Rian followed. They weren't far from the camp. Hopefully Fiona would find them. Most likely the men would. Elena no longer had the energy to care.

[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Manardariel]

Fiona took I deep breath. Ok, this is my last chanche! She screeched "DOOOOM!! DEATH!!" and belched, spraying vomit all over the attakers. The men sprang away in disgust.

"Yuck! What in all heavens...? This kid is crazy!" One of them shook his head and left the tent. Fioba held her breath- the others followed! And they hadn´t even noticed Elena and Rian were gone! As soon as he last pair of feet had made it´s way out of there she RAN. Nobody seemed to notice, or to care, and with shock, Fiona noticed the reason were Elena and Rian!

No! Damn! She slowed down and crept nearer. Elena was leaning against a tree, trying to be brave, while Rian was just standing there, motionless- like she´d been turned into stone.

Fiona started to wave at Elena. Behind you! RUN! Elena just shook her head, panicing. I´m sorry, Fiona, but I can´t. The look seemed to tell her. Angrily, Fiona drew herself up. There was no such word as "can´t" in her vocabulary. Had she gone through all this for nothing? Head spinning, the girl picked up a stick and ran towards the group.

"I shall avenge the Son of the Sky! I shall murder those who slaughtered him! You shall die!" she yelled, pretending to attak Rian with the stick.

Elena looked perplex, watching the other girl "hit" her sister. "Slaughterer! Beast!" Rian stared; Fiona winked. She started on Elena. "You have killed him!" Fiona broke into a run, still yelling and hitting the girls. Clearly, no one dared to come near her, and while she was there, no one could harm the others.

"Into the woods!" she wispered. "Quick!"

[Taralphiel]

Laurel sprinted back into the halls with another yell, and leapt towards another fray. The imposter that had attacked Cartil had fled, but now was not the time to persue her. The orphans of Swan Wood were cornered by the Wild Men it sounded, and she had to aid them.

Laurel cut through one Wild Man from behind, and barely had time to remove her sword before another engaged her. A fluent series of kicks stopped him, before she was able to send him to Mandos.

The fighting went long down the hallway, with Laurel and the graceful Elf at her side. She was much more precise and graceful in her movements, but Laurel had no time to wonder at it. Eventually Laurel met the dark Elf Rudhchamion, and the Rohirrim. They were protecting most of the maids and children, who had sought refuge in the kitchen. Rudhchamion had downed many with his sword and the occasional arrow, and Ohtaredan and Herebrand were also fighting wildly.

Laurel moved in front of them and lashed out at the crowd of Wild Men. Slowly the group made gains on the oncoming horde. Laurels hands dripped with blood, and the halls stank, and this infuritaed her more. One by one the Wild Men fell. In a moment of weakness a sword razed her shoulder, and almost knocked her to the ground. Screaming out in pain, her sword rasn through the mans throat, cutting his conquest short. She fought on, though slow and cumbersome were her movements. She felt the warm slip of blood under her clothes. But she was too livid to stop fighting...

[Burzdol]

Ilist Scorn saw Laurel from the other side of the Wild Men. She was hacking and kicking. Soon he called a loud order, "Men, charge!"

The Rohirrm pushed into the Wild Men, slaying as many as possible. Some of the less expirenced fell as the enemy used unusual tactics. Ilist ran towards a leading man and threw a knife threw his heart. As he ran to get the weapon, a man ran towards the children. He heard the scream as one of the was pierceds by a deadly blade. He drew his bow, and shot throgh the man's head. The man then ran back to the children. Soon he had no choice but call a retreat and defence, "Men, fall back and defend!"

The fighting continued, and slayings piled up. The Rohirrm, was losing.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil struggled as two burly, huge men carried him away from the strong house. Cartil struggled a lot, actually, hoping to delay the unimaginably large and...positively smelly men. It held no sway over the strong Wild Men, and they merely chuckled at Cartil's weakness. They practically dragged the Gondorian diplomat through the woods, for Cartil had refused to walk if it would make the men's job any easier.

When Cartil was finally dragged into a clearing, he could tell it was some sort of makeshift camp. It was mostly empty, however, and Cartil began to doubt whether all of the camp's inhabitants had gone to the Swan Lady's house. Cartil groaned at this thought, and the image of his immature, arrogant sister slain by a horrible barbarian.

"Where d'you think we should put 'im?" grumbled one of the men, whose long beard still had tiny, off-white-yellow beads of ale weaved into it.

"Well, Gita said we should take 'im to the King!" answered the other man, who shoved his partner-in-crime for his stupidity, while Cartil rolled his eyes at the stupidity of both the men.

How can an entire army of these stupid, uneducated men be able to defeat the lands of Dor-en-Ernil? Cartil asked himself, and decided it was a fair and logical quiestion if his two captors were any example.

"Well, I don't think the King is 'ere right now, d'you?" The first man retorted, apparently thinking he was quite smart and witty in his response.

"Then let's put 'im in the King's tent, fool! Either way, the King'll find 'im and do what he will with this...thing," the second one said, and the two finally stopped bickering as they dragged Cartil to a tall tent at the end of a messy lane in disrepair.

Cartil was thrown into a tent, and it was so dark that the messenger of Gondor was oblivious as to whether or not anyone else was in the room. He looked around, and the first thing he laid his tired, hazel eyes on were feathered darts spilling out of a pack nearby. The feathers were black and the tips were covered in some sort of yellow, loquid substance.

"Eru help them," Cartil muttered, thinking of the inhabitants - and protectors - of Alphirion and the home of the Swan Lady. He let his voice ring clear, loud, and pure, alerting anyone who might be in the tent that they had a visitor.

[Kryssal]

Drass was walking to the edges of the village to hide from the invaders and their darts. She was a smart horse and could take care of herself if need be.

Most of the invaders were in sporatic fights with the villagers who had been joined by the Rohirrim that Lanaey had rode in with. With those fighters taking out most of the main force, or so Lanaey assumed they would, she went out in search of those hiding. They didn't look like they were going to leave easily and Lanaey was now on the search through the village for any of the filth hiding behind powerless women or taking hostages. The Elf stalked through the houses, checking every room. Silence was her most often greeted guest, though she came accross some whimpers when occupants were found. She told most to stay where they were and to lock all their doors, if they hadn't done so yet, which many people hadn't. Many of the humans who had stayed in their homes were waiting for their men to come back and didn't want to shut them out. Giving assurances to the terrified or waiting villagers, Lanaey continued on finding neither attackers nor casualties.

A step creaked under her slight touch and Lanaey quickly lifted her foot off of the spot, listening for a sign that someone had heard her. After several moments of nothing but wind finding her ears, she continued up to the second floor of a large building near the outskirts of town.

Lanaey had checked three rooms with five left to go. Coming up to the next door on the right, the Elf readied herself once again, bringing up her choice of weapon. The two long knives looked dull in the absence of bright light, but their edges would still cut through a solid wood door if a need called for it. There was only stillness in the room she faced, yet she continued on. Half of the room was available to her eyes and there were signs of recent activites, a turned over table and broken chair. . .

Lanaey staggered forward from the blow almost losing her balance. Someone behind the door had slammed it into her back as she entered the room and with the force it had sent her careening off of the wall. Spinning around she brought her knives to the fore, hitting part of the door and barely missing one of her attackers. Two of the brigands had decided to hide out in until a would be village savior had come along, and Lanaey was just that person.

One of the men had quickly gone to the other side of the room, planning on catching her in a double front assult. Stepping back slightly, Lanaey unfocused her vision so that she could see the overall movements of both who seemed to only be weilding a sword each, their darts gone or spent. The first attacker, by the door, decided to quit waiting and lunged at the Elf, quickly followed by his counterpart. Because they didn't attack at the same time, Lanaey was able to spin, slashing the first attacker down his left arm and finishing the spin clashing swords with the second. Turning quickly, to get out of the middle, she brought her second long knife to bear against the second attacker, striking at his exposed lower left side. While Lanaey had been trying to take the second attacker out of the fight, the first had recovered from her strike and charged her again with a vicious yell erupting from his lungs. Her long knife was brought up in defense too late to stop the swing, it only slowed the descent.

Pain flashed through the Elf's mind before she blocked it out, but her right arm would be severly hampered in fighting. The sword had cut through her leathers to go roughly into her shoulder and sliding slightly down her arm, cutting deep into her muscle.

Lanaey involuntarily gave a primal yell as she kicked the first attacker several times to get him away. Finally he tripped over a loose board while backing slightly up to avoid further kicks from Lanaey's long legs. Once he was down she turned and brought her injured arm up and drove it down into the second attackers chest as he was trying to get off the floor from her first swing into his side. Ignoring his screams Lanaey wreched her long sword out of his quickly dying body and turned just in time to avoid having her spine sliced. Her back still got slashed and she cried out before stumbling forward. The first attacker was once again rushing her, he didn't seem to want to change his tactics. Lanaey got caught on her feet when backing up and as she tried to fend off all of his blows she started tripping. As she started to fall backwards completely she blocked his sword one last time with her weak arm and brought her left arm up in one swift motion and slit his throat. He gurgled and sputtered and fell foward, putting a part of his weight against Lanaey. He wasn't going to be fighting any more.

Lanaey distinctly heard a crack when her head finally connected to the wall behind her because of her fall. Having the dead weight of the brigand only added to the force with which she fell.

At least I took down two more of them. . . I'm going to wake up with the worst headache of my life. . if I wake up . . . I wonder what the others are doi. . . . and Lanaey slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

[ June 06, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

The Rohanians and Dark Elf looked at Laurel as she slumped slightly in stance. Her mind was whirling. Suddenly she had a flash of clarity 'Who is with my grandmother?!'

Leaping into the cliffside room she saw the Gondorian fighting viciously. She also saw some of the Wild Men had been downed with slender silver daggers. She looked up to see Taralphiel holding three in one hand, eyes glaring.

Laurel fought like a cornered beast to remove the threat to her grandmother. Slicing one soldier open, she spun and planted her foot in the stomach of one behind her, before running her blade along his throat, and watched him crumple to the floor. A yell sounding from the throne, she saw a Wild Man descending upon Taralphiel. She already had her sword readied, but a quick dagger throw from Laurel saw she neednt use it. Racing to her grandmothers side she scowled 'Do not raise that sword again by Eru!!'

More Wild Men came through the passages, and Laurel slipped into a frenzy of fighting, hearing the screams and clanging of blades dulled in her ears. She knew she was getting more and more careless. It was when a Wild Mean took a lucky shot at her exposed leg that she woke from it, but simply too late. She slumped to the floor, as the Rohirrim ran back into the room with Rudhchamion and Annanoldowen, after securing the children. She saw the Elves loose their bows before darkness enveloped her.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena ran, staggering slightly, but with Fiona scaring off the wild men- What did she DO to them? Elena wondered- they could go slower than if they were trying to flee their captors.
“Wh-where are we going?” she asked between gulps of air.
“I don’t know” said Fiona, slowing down.
“I want to see if my Papa is still at your house” Elena said slowly, eagerly slowing almost to a walk.
”Going back to where they caught us. That’s really clever” Fiona answered. Irritation flashing in her eyes.
Elena winced. She almost felt like crying.
“But-“ she began. Suddenly she stopped. “Where’s Rian?”
Both girls gazed around.
“She wouldn’t have stopped again, would she?” Elena asked with a sigh.
“There she is” Fiona called, pointing.
“Well, it doesn’t look like we have any choice anymore.” Elena said “She’s going back to the village.

After sharing an exasperated look the two girls began to run after Rian. It was hard to catch up to her, because she was so much older. Elena began panting more, but it didn’t seem fair to let Rian cope with monsters or whatever was at the village alone, not in her state. After a while the reached the outskirts of the village. There was no sign of Rian anywhere.
“She must have gone to our house” Elena started, then realised what she had said. “I mean your house” she corrected herself, blushing.

Fiona got no chance to reply, as Elena spotted something and ran to her left.
“Hello” she said to the beautiful horse. “Fiona! This is the Elf lady’s horse. Isn’t she beautiful?”
Elena offered her hand to the horse’s nostril. She sniffed it gently, then lipped the back of her hand. Fiona walked over slowly, and the same events repeated themselves. Suddenly there was shouting from a nearby house. Elena looked around in fear. As she listened, now, she could hear many strange noises- bangs, yells and screaming. If Rian was here I would hold her hand, she thought sadly. But Fiona is probably enjoying it. Nervously she turned back to where Fiona was still patting the horse.
“What shall we do?” she asked.

Almost as if in answer, the horse shook her head and began to walk towards the woods.
“Do you think we should follow it?” Elena whispered, transfixed as it turned it’s head to whicker softly at them.
“Don’t you want to get away from here?” Fiona asked, just as quietly.
“But w-what about Rian?” Elena asked, voice breaking. Again tears began to prick at her eyes.

[ June 10, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Everything happened in a flash. Others had darted off the room to protect the maids and the children. From the corner of his eye Annunfuin caught a glimpse of Cartil stepping slowly backwards, sword raised. Only a few seconds later there was a sound of metal clanging to the floor. Annunfuin swung around just when Laurel let out a cry "Cartil!!". Air whistled and the first darts hit the floor at his feet.


Annunfuin felt he had barely drawn his sword from the scabbard when Laurel had already fended off the first assault. What madness has taken her? She'll get herself killed in no time! Annunfuin frowned. But presently he had to disengage his mind from these thoughts. Laurel had gone after Cartil and his captor and Annunfuin’s heart urged him to follow her. But reason prevailed and he turned to consider the situation.


His gaze met a pair of gleaming green eyes. For a second they stood there face to face, sounds of battle about them; the grey Gondorian and the Swan Lady.


"Why did you stay?" Taralphiel asked Annunfuin in a tone that made him feel like some young rascal disturbing her afternoon rest. He needed no time to think for the answer.


"Stay with your King! That has been my order as long as I can remember." he spoke gravely. "In this House and this land You are the King and the Queen and it is my duty to stay and guard You, Milady." Annunfuin bowed low and then extended his sword in a token for his allegiance. Just then fierce cries filled the air and heavy footsteps drew quickly near.


"Well, my lad, seems you’ll get a chance to act on your duty at once", the Swan Lady said as earnestly as Annunfuin right before her but he saw a bright flash in her eyes that in other conditions could easily have been interpreted as amusement. Indeed, despite the situation Annunfuin had to grin: no one had called him a 'lad' in over thirty years!


Feeling suddenly younger and ready for battle Annunfuin dashed to the doorway. It was relatively narrow and easier to defend than the open room behind him – there he could meet his enemies one by one. If they have only swords I may have a chance to delay them… he thought just as the van of the assailants emerged from round the corner.


The first man rushed straight towards him. Annunfuin sprung to the right and his blade gashed the man’s back. In the next moment he blocked a strike and made a quick counterblow. Marble dyed red with blood. Keep your eye on the enemy. Defence and stroke, defence and stroke… rules learned in childhood ran still in his head, though unconsciously. The sword rose and fell in the dwindling light. Storm came over them. Lightning flashed and the following thunder drowned the cries of agony.

Six had fallen in front of the doorway but there were at least another half dozen Wild Men to come. Annunfuin started to feel weary and slowly he was forced to retreat back to the room. Right then, as the situation started to look severe, an unlooked-for aid came to him. A carefully aimed silver dagger whirled through the air and hit its target. Another soon followed. Annunfuin glanced over his shoulder and saw Taralphiel standing tense, ready to throw again. With renewed hope he turned back to face the enemy.


Just then Laurel tumbled to the cliff-side room and Annunfuin saw at once she was hurt. Wild gaze in her eyes she fought her way to her grandmother, just in time. But now the Wild Men were pushing to the room from every passage. Like every experienced soldier in that situation Annunfuin started a slow retreat towards the throne. Together he and Laurel could defend the Swan Lady for quite a long time, maybe till the others would come – or till the bitter end.


But Laurel had no mind to draw back and wait. She rushed forward, slashing and beating blindly and many of the Wild Men shrank in the sight of the berserker. But still they were too many. Fear filled Annunfuin’s heart and mind as he saw her charge.


"Eru, guard her!" he managed to stammer out. Then, dropping all caution, he leaped forward, his clear shout ringing in the air:


"Rómenril! Rómenril for Gondor!"


As an immediate answer to his call the rest of the defenders plunged to them. But it was too late! Annunfuin let out a desperate cry as he watched Laurel slump to the floor. Elven arrows whizzed in the air and the enemy was scattered. Defence and stroke! Annunfuin cleared his way to Laurel’s motionless, bloodstained body and kneeled down beside her. The Wild Men were retreating but now their black darts answered to the firing of the Elves.


"She’s alive!" Annunfuin called to the others, heedless of the arrow-rain. Annanoldowen and the Dark Elf were soon on his side and started to carry the young maiden out of the cross-fire. Right then, behind them, rose a dark figure from amongst the slain. Dirk gleamed as lightning stroke. Before the crash rolled over them Annunfuin turned and thrust his sword through the wretched body. The Elves and Laurel were safe.


But finally a blindly shot bolt went home. Annunfuin was just releasing his blade from the corpse as the venomous dart pierced his right thigh. He never lost hold of his sword though pain flushed through his body. Instinctively he grabbed the feathered shaft and pulled. Blood felt almost hot on his cold hands. He staggered a few steps forward before a black veil obscured his sight. Last thing he felt was the poison burning in his veins. Rómenril still in his hand Annunfuin sank into deep unconsciousness and fell to the blood-red floor.

[maikafanawen]

The wild men retreated and Annanoldowen told Herebrand and Ohtaredan to take Annunfuin and Laurel to the nearest chambers and bar the doors. Annanoldowen retrieved her bags of herbs and went to work strait away, first on Laurel whose wounds were deeper and more serious. After thoroughly cleaning the wounds, the elf produced her mortar and pestle and began to grind up sufficient amounts of yarrow. When it was a fine mustard coloured powder at the bottom of the mortar, Annanoldowen added aloe, other minor herbs and a combination of liquids making a gritty paste. This she applied by wrapping it in a gauze material and laying it gently over the wounds, securing it with bandages.

“Any other patient would need plenty of rest and the bandages to be re-applied every two hours. However, since our situation doesn’t allow it, I will do all I can so that she will be able to do the essential activities, though a bit slowly, in a matter of hours. But it is necessary that I have no one else in the room.” Nodding, the room was cleared, except for Taralphiel whom Annanoldowen was not foolish enough to send away, and Annunfuin who lay unconscious on the parallel bed.

Laurel would be fine for now so Annanoldowen let her lie for a moment as she went to tend to Annunfuin. The man had a wound that was growing blacker by the minute on his right thigh. The elf had to work fast. She ground up an ample amount of Horehound, Sage, and St. John’s Wort working fast to put it on the wound and on other parts of the body that appeared to be infected.

“I’m going to need some wine,” she told Taralphiel who was cooling Laurel’s brow with a wet cloth. The Swan Lady gave Annanoldowen’s request to a maid hovering outside the door and a bottle of dorwinion wine plus two chalices were delivered. In one Annanoldowen mixed Valerian and St. John’s Wort. Using a special plant she revived Annunfuin for a moment to have him drink the potion. Then the Valerian kicked in and he was asleep again, this time more peacefully. In the other Annanoldowen readied Valerian and wine for Laurel to drink after she was revived and ready to sleep again.

The next half hour was spent diligently working on the difficult process of healing the Swan Lady’s granddaughter. When Taralphiel opened the door, allowing Herebrand, Ohtaredan, and Rudhchamion to enter, Laurel was able to speak in hushed, choked tones, and Annanoldowen looked very tired.

“She needs to begin working on her sleep. The wine will help her do so. When she wakes again she will be very nearly cured. I have treated Annunfuin’s poison wound and given him some sedatives. It will take much longer for him to heal, if at all.” The elf’s face was grave and her blue eyes were drained. Now,” she said, sighing and gesturing towards Laurel and her grandmother, “say what you must and we’ll leave ye to sleep for a bit.”

***

Gita raced back towards camp arriving at the King’s tent. She burst in, shoving the canvas flap aside.

“Gita!” acknowledged the king, who was seated in his makeshift throne, opposite the man Gita had taken prisoner. “Well done my lady, well done.” His expression changed from his friendly manner towards Gita back to his firm, commanding expression as he faced Cartil. “NOW!” he bellowed. “You were just saying that you will help us get the Swan Lady.” Cartil’s face, set and determined shook his head.

“I would die first.” Amused, Gita took a seat beside the king, and sat cross-legged on the furry animal pelts, her grey-black eyes twinkling.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel hovered by Laurel, watching her slowly sit up in a daze. SHe turned to the Elf 'I am in your debt, Milady!' she wept. Holding her granddaughters hand, she softly spoke to her 'Say only a little dear, you need to rest' 'I am sorry, I was foolish' she began

'No, no. Enough of that. I was the fool. Now, your army needs commanding' she turned her hand to the Rohanians and Elf that stood by with worried glancing 'We need to fight back, my child'

~*~

Laurel held a hand to a wall, to stop the room spinning about her 'But, where is the Gondorian' she slurred. She saw his pale body lying on a table beside her, and almost retched. 'It was my..fault..' she said slowly, shaking her head.

'Do not dwell on feeble things' snapped Rudhchamion, and her head jerked up 'Some of your party are missing. Some slain. We do not know that fate of those in the village. What do you suggest'

Laurel stopped shaking and grunted 'The camp is at the SOuthern Confines. Any hostages are there. If they are not rescued soon, you will be salvaging bodies. The Village...yes, you should go there afterwards. We left good people there. Head through the forest..then out to the Village. A small rescue party can go unnoticed' she finished as she swayed a little. 'If I rest, I should be able to go'

'Maybe' said the she-elf 'but now you must sleep'

Laurel did not argue, but lay back and fell into slumber.

~*~

Cuor came into the tent snarling 'Wher is she?!'

Gita smiled 'Who? the lovely Lady? My she is quite a fighter! She will be a wild one to tame' she mocked

The Elf reared back to his full height, and moved his face close to the womans 'I swear if you harmed a hair on her head...'

[maikafanawen]

“You’ll what?” countered Gita, “Breathe on me?” She waved her hand in front of her face in mockery. A few wild men chuckled. Cuor snarled.

“She—is—mine!” he hissed. “And mine to do whatever I please with. YOU MAY NOT TOUCH HER!!” Gita tensed and stood, her face threateningly close to Cuor’s.

“It is not your place to give me orders, elf!” she spat the last word and anger welled up inside her darkening eyes. The king stepped in.

“Gita. I promised Cuor the Swan Lady. You will do your best not to interfere thankyou.” Enraged, Gita left the tent, retreating into the darkness of the woods, drawing a knife. No one tells me what to do. I’ve had it. Cuor will have his Swan Lady. Oh yes, but only after I’m through with her. She grinned wickedly and crept through the forest to the village: undoubtedly Laurel’s next stop.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn fought hard during the raid on Alphirion, though the forces of the Wild Men seemed endless. On more than one occasion Jess arrived too late to save one of the villagers, but just in time to see their throat slit or their backs stabbed. The moon could barely be seen through the darkening clouds, and Jess thought she could feel the drip of a raindrop or two.

At one point, Jess was fighting off three Wild men with one of the younger men of the town, when a great chain of frightened screams could be heard and were followed by roaring laughter. Jess and the man, Khole, exchanged worried glances and quickly worked to get rid of the two Wild Men they had been fighting. Then they ran off in the direction of the screams, bringing a few of the other brave fighting villagers. They ran towards a dense chain of trees, sprinting like jackrabbits in the night. More people screamed and shouted beyond the line of trees. No words were quite clear, but Jesslyn knew they were desperately afraid, and that the cries were for help. Once they came close enough to make out the words, Jesslyn went first, bursting through a gap in the trees where the willows had been pulled back. The screaming continued, and most of the voices were clearly belonging to children; the young and the elders of Alphirion had been found. A great rage rose in Jess, overpowering any fear or apprehension that had once been.

The moon still provided enough light to see that there were twenty or thirty Wild Men surrounding a group of about ten or fifteen older men, women, and quite young children. This relieved Jesslyn only slightly, for it meant that not all of the young and old of Alphirion had been found. Apparently the group had tried their hardest to reach the safety the others had found, only to fail at the very last. Now the group formed a small circle with the children in the middle as a last pathetic defense.

The victims of the attack were screaming challenges, crying, or even comforting. The Wild Men roared back, laughing and smiling malicious grins revealing horribly cared for teeth. Sharpened tree branches and clubs made by the attacked villagers swatted and smacked at the attackers, to no affect or avail. The Wild Men began to slit the throats and gut through the stomachs of the outer folk of the circle. Jess continued on towards the group at a dead run, for whoever they went to help…it looked like they might be too late.

Jess and her fellow defenders attacked the attackers at two angles. Five middle-aged men and women darted into the circle to grab the children and sprint them off to safety with the rest of the old and young of Alphirion. The rest of the help attacked the Wild Men from behind. This battle raged on for almost a half hour, and by the end, heaps of Wild Men lay dead throughout the wooded area. Whatever was left of the killed villagers was too masticated to bury in some way.

They had only saved six people, and three were children, according to the five middle-aged rescuers.

~*~

Cartil was glad that the attention had been averted from him, and he listened carefully as the two Wild folk argued over…Laurel? Cartil had no idea exactly who they were talking about, but it had to be Laurel! That was what…what was his name? Cuor. That was what Cuor was fighting for?

Suddenly, as the woman Gita stormed out, the ‘king’ turned his attention back to Cartil. He growled, a deep growl that came from the bottom of his lungs. The King drew a dagger, golden and shining as it left a gold reflection on the animal pelts on the floor. He brought it straight to Cartil’s throat.

“I must attend to more important things than a scum like you at the moment. I will deal with you later, and if you do not agree then, than your head will soon be no longer attached to your neck. And should you move or make any attempt to leave, your throat will be slit and the blood will forever stay in a vial around my neck,” grunted the King. He whipped the knife away, almost cutting Cartil’s throat anyway. The Wild Man stalked out of the tent.

For the first time in his life, Cartil began to have doubts as to whether or not he could make it out of trouble alive.

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin groped his way in the dreadful darkness. He crawled forward, ever forward seeking for something but knowing not what. There was no sound, no smell, no light to follow: yet he had to continue.

Suddenly he saw something white shining ahead. Anguish and regret pierced his heart. Bittersweet was it now for him to get his senses back: discover the familiar scent of lavender floating in the air; see the dear figure in the dim light, the beauty that always took his breath away; feel the soft skin under his trembling fingers. But cold she was and pale as the white robe she was wearing.

“Linnewyn!”

But gone was her smile and her singing voice. Old wounds were torn open. Annunfuin kneeled down beside his beloved and drew her into his arms. His tears fell silently into the golden cloud of her hair. “Linnewyn, I came too late…”

“So you did - again” spoke a cold voice from above; “You came too late and now she is dead.” Surprised, Annunfuin raised his eyes at another familiar figure.

“Why are you here, M’lady? And what do you mean - again?”

“You should have protected her!” the old woman exclaimed; “But look at her now…”

Annunfuin looked down to his lap and his mouth opened to a soundless scream. The curls spreading over his arms were no longer golden but deep brown. Great green eyes stared straight at him. But those eyes were dimmed, they couldn’t see. Annunfuin watched and Death watched back.

‘Too late...late....late.....’

“Laurel!!!”

************************************************** ***

“Laurel!!!” Annunfuin cried and sprang up in his bed. A wild, almost mad gaze blazed in his eyes. He was sickly pale save for the feverish spots on his cheeks. Every inch of his body ached but only after he felt a sharp twinge in his right leg did he truly come to himself.

***

Laurel woke up to a horrified scream. It seemed to come from somewhere afar and through thick mists of dream it flowed into her consciousness. Then her eyes flew open and she was wide awake: the voice had called out her name! Laurel looked at her right and saw Annunfuin sitting on the bed next to hers. The Gondorian was upset but presently Laurel was too glad to notice that.

“Annunfuin!” she called and, aiding with her sound hand, she slowly pulled herself to a sitting position. Though she didn’t know it almost twelve hours had passed since she had last been awake and her recovery had advanced quickly. The tearing pain was gone though she could still feel her wounds with every heartbeat.

Gradually she stood up and leaned heavily to the wall. The room spun in her eyes for a while but settled down quite quickly. Still supporting herself on the wall she walked the few steps to Annunfuin’s bed and reached for his hand.

“Everything is fine, I’m here. Annunfuin, look at me!”

***

Annunfuin heard Laurel’s demanding yet kindly voice and slumped back down to his pillows sighing with relief. Laurel wasn’t dead. Miracles, or more likely Annanoldowen’s skilful hands, had been at work. Have I slumbered for days? For how else could she be up already? Annunfuin had to wonder while he eyed her and tried to smile.

“Laurel…” he whispered, now barely audibly. Little by little the horror of the dream eased its grip of him and he felt suddenly weary beyond all measure. But seeing Laurel’s green eyes, now bright and vivid, observing him with anxiety Annunfuin remembered the wild look he had lastly seen in them, amid the battle. I must talk with her – now!

“Laurel” he began again, struggling to get some strength into his voice; “I beg You to listen to me now, though I know You would let no man, not even the King! give these words to you were he standing before You.” Annunfuin paused and breathed sharply to keep back the dark haze that tried to veil his sight. No feelings could be read from Laurel’s withdrawn face.

“But I am more like a travesty of a man and hold no power over You; nor am I standing before You but lie here like a helpless old fool. Therefore I dare to ask as your low servant: ‘Hear me and heed my counsel!’” Annunfuin spoke now in haste for he felt time was flying past him;

“What I saw before… Was that the way Your father taught You to fight?” Silence fell between them in the empty room. Annunfuin nodded slightly; “That is what I thought for no man would teach his children how to get killed in their first battle! Your father was a wise man and I know You haven’t forgotten his words and advice. So follow them, everywhere, every time – there are no exceptions.” A shadow of agony passed over Annunfuin’s face as he turned and looked at Laurel. Her head was bowed and her eyes lowered. Annunfuin reached out and took her hand;

“Your heart is still kindly and pure. Don’t let hatred and revenge overpower You! For then the enemy has won and You have become their kind with black heart and morbid soul." Annunfuin's voice trailed off into a whisper; "Don’t follow them to the darkness…" And Laurel’s hand slipped from his inert fist.

[ June 15, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel looked into the eyes of the Gondorian, and she saw her father.

She slumped back against the wall as she let go of his hand, and let him rest. She could have sobbed, but she could barely breathe, and she felt she had no tears to cry. She began to realise that she was fighting like one of those Wild Men, and she was almost as vile in heart as they were. She saw the pale, unblinking eyes of her mother and father, and she saw death a hundred fold move past her. That was what had made her Wild, she knew that. She staggered up, and stood beside the resting soldier.

'Thankyou, good Sir. I heed your words. I will not lose to the death that has its grips on me. I will save this place, and you. I swear it'

She moved outside, limping heavily, but mobile enough. This caused a great stir among the warriors that had councilled by her door. Annanoldowen moved forward, and examined her swiftly 'You have your legs. That is good. What do you plan to do?'

'There is a good man out there, I wish to get him back' she said with a half-smile. The she-elf sighed 'Well, I cannot reccommend it, but I do not see hope in convincing you. Simply assure me you will go with as many men as we can spare. You need a strong soldier to watch you' Laurel nodded, and turned to the men 'So, who wishes to help me find good Sir Cartil?'

[ June 15, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey woke up with pain. She couldn't locate the individual injuries because her whole body seemed to be on fire. When she tried to move her head however, she realized that her head was the the thing that should be moved the least as it caused the most disorientation and pain.

I must . . get up. . . .still fighting . . .

Getting up was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. Lanaey only figured on getting over a stiff and unresponsive body, she had forgotten that one of the men she had been fighting was still laying on top of her. Her first impulse was to push him off with her right arm, then she realized her arm was one of the places on her body that wasn't moving without extreem effort.

Arrrhhhh, this is simply irritating!

Slowly, the trapped Elf moved her feet so that they were grounded against the floor. Bringing up her good arm and putting it firmly on his right shoulder, forcing up her right arm to lay on his left shoulder to provide whatever help it could. Taking four deep breaths, she focused all her energy on one, gigantic shove. Lanaey actually let out a pain filled grunt as she pushed against the dead weight with all of her strength. The corpse slid down and off to the side, but still stayed on her right foot. A small, much less power driven tug got her foot out and she was free, except that now she was too drained to get any where. After resting for as long as she dared, Lanaey slowly started to roll herself over to her stomach, which basically consisted of falling over onto her side, then swinging her good arm around till she managed a full laying position. If she hadn't been trying to get up so much she might have thought about how nice it would have been to be laying down.

Eventually she managed a kneeling position, followed later by a standing position with the help of the wall. Keeping to the wall she moved the long way around the room until she finally reached the door and then went down the hall. The stairs looked like too big of an obstacle, and they almost were. Stumbling several times and falling down many stairs she reached the bottom with some new bruises and scratches.

Lanaey was only focusing on getting out of the house and once she did, all of her pain and exhaustion came back to her full force. The fall was not graceful and her lately thrown out arm didn't make the impact any less painful.

Her vision swirled with black mists as she fought to take in regular breaths. Through the dark vision Lanaey thought she could see a pair of feet coming toward her. She didn't know if they were friendly or not, but in her state she couldn't do much about it either way.

[The Ruling Ring]

Ohtaredan frowned in concern as he walked out the door, into the cool mists of the night. He could not be sure of Herebrand, but everyone else seemed to be asleep, or set about their quiet evening tasks.

Worry still plagued him. There was sickness, wounds, unending trouble.

Ohtaredan stopped and looked behind him.

"Herebrand!" he called. He didn't know, was the man with him?

"I suppose I am alone..." he mumbled after a spell, turning back around and walking again.

He felt Gostanendoll's hilt against his side. He had put the sword to more use than ever yet, today. He shuddered inwardly, blinking in weariness in the dark. He just didn't feel cut out for this kind of work.

Not that he wasn't proud of the help he'd been today...protecting the people with Laurel and the others...but he missed his old way of life, as a blacksmith.

Just then, he heard a slight shuffling on the ground in front of him. He looked down instantly, seeing a slim, Elven form lying there. He bent down swiftly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Lanaey," he breathed.

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey heard her name and tried to respond but only turned her head a bit. She felt that she could do no more than lie there and perhaps die. Somewhere in the back of her fogged mind she was suprised that she had gotten out of the house at all, but her fore mind was completely blank with zings of pain through the sleepiness.

Something was tilting her head upwards and she cracked an eye open. It was one of the group she had come in with, but her twisting mind couldn't grasp his name. He was saying something; the sounds only came across in mumbling waves that the Elf couldn't make out. She tried to say something, to tell him that she wanted to sleep or perhaps she was trying to say that she wanted some water. Lanaey couldn't remember. She just gave up on trying to do anything.

~*~

Hmm…Leena looked to her left, right, and even swiveled her upper body to check behind her. I’m lost. Perfect.

After her last fight, the priestess had tried to follow the chase trail back to the village. The problem was the many other trails overlapping the one she had helped make coupled with the fact that Leena suspected that in the run they had gone in more than one circle.

Sighing, Leena set out on a large trail and hoped it would lead her right. Eventually it would lead her somewhere: to the Swan House, out of the forest randomly, or to the invaders camp. Frowning at the prospect of ending up in the enemies lair, she trudged along, not really looking for danger, but at least listening for the tall tale signs and keeping her sword ready.

She scrunched up her nose as she walked, smelling her body odor and feeling very sticky from sweat. A good bath was definitely needed, but she had no idea of when she’d be able to get one.

After almost an hour of walking she saw someone crouching in the bushes ahead of her. She had barely seen him in the first place, just a glint of sunlight at the right spot revealed his hidden presence. Moving into a hunting stance and taking out one of the darts from the pouch she kept them all in at her waist, she tried to make her way around to his back as silently as possible. She was almost able to see his backside when two bow wielding men with arrows trained on her stepped into view on either side of her.

She looked between the two, not giving in an inch. They were too far off and covered with too much foliage for Leena to be able to discern exactly where their loyalties lie.

It didn’t take long for one of the archers to recognize her. In fact, Leena had still been trying figure out how she was going to handle the new situation when he called to his companions and offered his hand to her as he approached. As he came closer the priestess could see the garb of a Rohirrim officer.

A smile broke on his face. “I am Beden and we could use your help.”

She took his hand after putting her weapons away and smiled in return, “I’ll do what I can.”

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel tried to ease herself down into a chair. A few hours slow travel had taken all her energy. She had swiftly made a change of her original plans. Herself, Herebrand and Ohtaredan would go to the Village, and inspect the Rohirrim troops. There they would also look for Lanaey, Leena and Jesslyn. From there they would rescue Cartil. Laurel had entrusted her grandmother and Annunfuin's safety to the Elves Rudhcahmion and Annanoldowen, and Sir Thagon.

Laurel watched her other grandmother fuss over her wounds, her face creased with worry. 'How did you get out of this alive gran?'

'As we always do my dear. Your grandfather wanted his sword, the fool. But her can barely stand.' she said with a slight tone of amusement.

'So, you have not seen Lanaey, Leena, Jesslyn or Ilisit? What about Galain and Gorath' said Laurel. She shook her head 'Last time I saw the Elf and Gondorian they were headed out for more bandages and the sort. The Lady Jesslyn was helping some children off home, and the Rohanian was tending to his horses' She lowered her head 'And those Elven brothers...they went off on their own and I havent seen them since' 'I'm so sorry dear. I wish they had been here, I wouldve hid them the best I could'

Laurel nodded slowly, and headed out to hear a yell 'We have found the Elf!' Laurel made her way out as fast as she could...

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Taralphiel]

Cuor kept his perch in the tree, and sowly watched Gita make her way in the dark. His blood was boiling, and he fingered a dart in one hand. He smiled as he though of how easy it would be to throw it and watch her life ebb away. But he held it, and waited for the right time. Manouvering from branch to branch, he too headed to the Swan House. He had done his duty, and was waiting for his reward.

~*~

Taralphiel turned to the three that were left to guard her 'I am sorry this had to happen. I know you must worry for those that you left in the Village' She stared at the Gondorian, who was making a great effort to hide his concern for his shieldmaiden companion. She put a light hand on his shoulder 'Eru is with her. Trust he knows what is best' The man nodded, but found little comfort, she could tell.

'I trust my nephews. They are strong and wise, They will not succumb' said Rudhchamion in a single tone. The group was heartily surprised when Taralphiel let out a small peal of laughter 'Ah! My good friend! You have changed so little! You make me feel like a child taking council again! I thank you for that!' He changed his expression but a slight 'You are no longer a young shieldmaiden Taralphiel. Your efforts with the sword at your age do you little benefit, and less to others...'

'You see much, good Elf' she said slowly 'But not all I am afraid. I was gievn my fighting spirit deep in the bowels of the former Mirkwood, and it will not leave me till I die. It is all I can do'

The Elf said little to this, but turned to Thagon 'I suggest we patrol the grounds of the House. There will still be soldiers around' Both readies their swords, and set out.

Taralphiel sat in the back room with the She-Elf, and watched over Annunfuin. The Elf looked greatly fatigued, and Taralphiel offered her a chair.

'Ah, these times would come, I knew they would. But I expected to be as dust by that time' The Elf simply listened. Taralphiel put a cold cloth on the face of the Gondorian 'He looks like my son-in-law. That is why Laurel took his words to heart so easily. It is good that he is here. But I hope she will not suffer the loss of a father twice'

'I have done what I can' said Annanoldowen 'He will recover if he has a strong spirit' The Elf placed her hand on the old womans

'I am worried about you now. I have not seen you since the Third Age! Now is as good a time as any to catch up on lost talk!'

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Rian's bigger than us" said Fiona practically, but there was a tinge of worry on her face. Elena sighed deeply and nodded.

"I'm sure you know what's best" she said to the horse, stroking it's silky mane. It tossed it's head with a whinny, then began to walk slowly enough for the two girls to keep up. They walked one on each side, not talking.
'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry' Elena repeated to herslef over and over. 'Don't cry, don't c-'

"Elena!"
Fiona's shout made Elena run around to her side.
"Look!"
Fiona pointed a trembling finger to a figure walking unsteadily along the street. It was Rian, and she was coming towards them. Fiona and Elena watched her come closer and closer, then exchanged shocked glances as she walked straight past. They both began to walk after her.

"Rian!" called Elena, pulling her sleeve. Rian ignored her.
"RIAN!" Fiona called louder, but Rian showed no sign of hearing. Fiona ran around in front of her and stood there. Rian began to walk around her. Fiona glanced significantly at Elena, who grabbed one sleeve as Fiona took the other. Tugging, they managed to stop Rian in her tracks.We're starting to understand one another quite well Elena thought suddenly. It was quite a shock.

"Rian, why aren't you listening to us?" Elena said quietly, staring at the older girl.
"RIAN wake up" Fiona said, waving her hands in front of her sisters face. Without Fiona hanging on, Rian began to walk again.

Elena had never lost her temper before. She didn't even know she had one, but as she hung onto Rian's sleeve she felt something...snap.
"Rian you stop this minute" she said, pulling harder. Rian's sleeve tore, but she didn't stop.
"Rian- STOP" Elena called, finding herself suddenly holding a piece of material instead of Rian. "Stop or I'll..."

Without even thinking she darted forwards and slapped Rian's face. Rian stopped abruptly, then burst into tears.
"Oh stop crying. We're trying to save you" Elena said crossly.

[Manardariel]

Fiona´s mouth dropped open. WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL MOUNTAINS WAS THAT?? She stared at Elena, who was looking stunned herself, then at crying Rian, and back to Elena who looked a bit pleased by now.

"Come on then, will you?" she said, pointing to the forest impatiently. Fiona´s mouth by now had the size of a bullfrog.

"Hang on, hang on. What was THAT?" She asked. "Miss Priss, did you just- hit her??"

Elena shrugged. "I guess I just lost my temper..." Her voice trailed off, as she dared a smile at Fiona, who heartily smiled back. Maybe she isn´t that bad!

"Now, shouldn´t we move?" Fiona asked in a business-like way. "Come along, Rian. Oh for heaven´s sake, move! Here, take my hand..." Fiona rolled her eyes at Elena. "Like a baby, I swear!" she added in an undertone. The two girls grinned misceviously, surpressing fits of giggles.

They followed the horse into the forest. It seemed a safe place, and so calm, completly uneffected by the strife going on outside the forests. Golden sunlight shown through the branches, birds chirped, and they even saw a bunny-rabbit hopping by. The horse stopped at a little creek, with a grassy spot beside it. Elena immeadiatly began to wash her clothes out; Fiona reluctantly following suit: she still stank of throw-up, blood and dirt. While they carefully rinsed out their clothes and scrubbed their bodies, not a word was spoken.

"Elena?" Fiona suddenly fel herself saying. "Elena, you were- you were really brave."

[The Ruling Ring]

"Lanaey," Ohtaredan spoke again, leaning towards her "Mankoi naa lle sinome? I thought everyone was inside with Laurel and--," he broke off, remembering.

There really was no time to try to get this poor Elf to talk. She was badly hurt. She seemed almost ready to speak for a moment, then went limp on the ground.

"Lanaey!" he breathed in sharply, scooping the light being up in his arms and turning back to the house. "Uuma dela," he said, more to himself than to Lanaey, "all will be well. Laurel can help you."

He reached the doorstep, stepping through the threshold.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel watched as Ohtaredan ducked under the doorway, carrying a limp Elf. With a sigh of relief, she cleared room so he could lay her down.

She was barely concious, and Laurel began to check her wounds. Firwyn began to treat the wounds as she knew how, but this was no match for Elven healing. 'This should get her up and about, and maybe she can use some of her own tricks' said Laurel's grandmother.

Laurel turned to Ohtareden with a great smile 'I thank you for helping' He nodded and left the house to continue searching for others.

Laurel sat down by the Elf, and began to wait for her to regain concioussness. She hoped she would be able to tell her where any of the rest of the Company were.

[Cuthalion]

Ohtaredan turned at the sound of booted feet striding just outside the door. His hand went to his sword, then relaxed as Herebrand ducked inside. His face was sweaty and begrimed, yet his eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of his friends. He clasped hands with Ohtaredan, then his eyes narrowed at the sight of Laurel's wounds. "By the...what has happened?" He went to her and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. She grinned wearily at him, then pulled away. "I've been gone too long it would seem, my friends..."

Herebrand looked around the room for something, anything to drink. He stripped of his helmet and dropped it on the nearest table. He was tired and frustrated, not knowing who among his men might be lying dead now and he, totally unaware. At that moment, he just savoured being able to sit peacefully, his muscles tired almost to exhaustion.

His companions looked at him questioningly, but knew better than to speak to him just then. It was hard to see the young, idealistic warrior in this careworn, haunted man before them. He ran his hand over rough-hewn table on which his arm now rested and let his mind wander free. It seemed to him that he had never known anything but living up to ideals, standards, codes of honour. It light of all the things he had so recently seen and experienced, was it all worth it?

Herebrand heaved a heavy sigh and pushed himself to his feet. It had to be worth it. His life and his actions had to mean something! He turned to Ohtaredan. "I have to find my men, how many I have lost. Will you come with me, or will you stay with Laurel?" As he picked up his helmet, he saw for the first time to injured Elf, as she lay sleeping. Sadness filled him and he turned away, his need for action out-weighing his desperate need for rest.

[ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

[Kryssal]

As Lanaey slowly came back to herself she vaguely wondered if she hadn't dreamed about getting out of the house as an excuse for all the pain, but as she focused, she realized that as she tested her muscles they weren't gritty with pain like before. Also in moving her muscles she discovered that she was on something soft. She could hear voices: near, far, mumbling, yelling, crying. One voice stood out.

"I think she's waking up." It was a young female and Lanaey was almost sure that it was Laurel, but she was at the House. "Lanaey, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes or squeeze my fingers?"

Lanaey took several deep breaths which made her chest creak a little, ignoring the voice for a moment. She wanted to see how much she could actually do without having someone stop her for her own safety. As quickly as she could, which was much faster than she expected, the Elf arched her back and managed to sit all the way up. For a moment she thought she had it, then her mind started swimming and Lanaey faught to not fall back down.

Someone put their hands onto her shoulders to push her back down, but abruptly stopped when Lanaey uttered "No!" much more harshly than she meant to. Openeing her eyes she found that her earlier guess had been right and that it was Laurel beside her.

Lanaey spoke out rather quickly, catching Laurel by suprise. "Who is at the House?"

Laurel almost chuckled at the question. "It's secure, if that was what you were wondering. They've retreated back to their main camp," Lanaey assumed that she was now talking about the invaders, "and I was wondering if you knew where any of the other group members that were stationed here in town."

Lanaey shook her head, then stopped when it started to swim again. "I saw Jesslyn going off with a group toward the forest from a distance, but I started to search through the houses. I don't know where anyone else went."

Laurel looked slightly deflated at the news. After a moment she spoke again. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better than I thought I would, who healed me?"

Laurel turned and looked at another human. "Her name is Firwyn, but she isn't nearly as good as you or Annanoldowen."

Lanaey barked a little laugh. "I don't know about healing. I only know small remedies, but if you wouldn't mind getting me a cup of hot camomile tea and any other mind pain soothers."

Lanaey started to slowly stretch out her arms and legs as Laurel once again turned.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena sighed with relief as the horse stopped walking. She gazed around with wide eyes. This place certainly seemed safe, and it was so beautiful! They had halted by a stream, and Elena gladly began to bathe herself and wash her clothes. As she scrubbed she looked at the sunlight dappling the water. Somehow it seemed more beautiful than anything Elena had ever seen. It seemed like they had left their problems and entered another world. Perhaps the Elf-lady camped here and left some of her magic? she wondered dreamily.

"Elena?" Fiona said, startling Elena from her thoughts. "Elena, you were- you were really brave."
Elena blushed.
“Not really. You saved us, and you were a lot braver than me” she said earnestly.
The two had a good natured argument about who had been braver, then began to laugh again. There was something about this place that made Elena want to laugh and sing.
“We were both brave” Elena said quietly.

Wearing her petticoat she hung her dress over a bush to dry, then went over to where Rian was lying against a tree. She still hadn’t said anything.
“I-I’m sorry Rian” she said quietly “but we really needed to get out of the village. Look we’re safe now”
Rian didn’t move and didn’t answer. Elena bent over her and caught a whiff of smell from the day’s varying incidents.
“Rian you need to wash” she said firmly and took her hand to pull her up. Rian didn’t protest but followed like a baby. Elena took off her outer dress, led Rian into the water, and began to wash the dress. She turned to Fiona who was sitting on the bank.
“Will you help Rian?” she asked quietly.
It must be horrible for Fiona to see her sister like this she thought sadly as she scrubbed at the grey dress. There were stains all over it. This will never be clean, she thought, feeling like Rian’s mother.

Later Elena and Fiona sat around a small campfire Fiona had made, while Rian sat a little way off staring at nothing. The horse was standing close, she felt like a protecting presence. The three girls had eaten some fruits that Elena had recognised from the countryside around her family’s farm. She remembered eating them on picnics with her cousins, climbing trees and seeing all the animals and sighed. Everything had changed so fast. Men had destroyed her farm and she had moved to Fiona’s house with her father. Now men might have destroyed Fiona’s house and she didn’t even know where her father was, so what could they do now? Her dress was crumpled and torn, but somehow that seemed less important than it had before. Dimly Elena remembered that when she went out with her cousins or played with the kittens in the stables at the farm her dresses had often got torn so that her Aunt had had to mend them. Elena thought that perhaps now they would go back to her cousins who had moved to the city, but she realised that she would miss Fiona and her family. It was all very complicated.

“I wonder where Papa is?” she asked Fiona without looking at her. “And your family?”
“And Porridge” added Fiona.
Suddenly Elena felt cold. Della. She had lost Della. She tried not to cry, she didn’t want Fiona to stop thinking she was brave but she couldn’t help it. Tears pushed there way through her lids even as she screwed up her eyes to try and stop it. Finally a sob shook her shoulders and tears began to stream faster and faster down her cheeks. Fiona looked at her.
“I’m sure your Papa will be alright” she said.
Elena shook her head mutely.
“He will” Fiona said firmly.
“I-I lost Della” whispered Elena brokenly.
Fiona drew back.
She must think I’m so babyish, Elena thought sadly.
“It’s just a doll” Fiona said.

Elena gulped to try to still her sobs. Her breath came judderingly. She tried to let the calmness of the area oak into her. It worked, a little.
“Sh-she is a doll but she’s also the only friend I have left from the farm, except for Papa. My Uncle carved her and my Aunty made her dress. My cousins helped to sew her clothes too. It was a present when I was one year old. And-“ she gulped again as tears filled her eyes. “And she has my Mama’s necklace on” she finished quietly before dissolving into floods more tears.

[Manardariel]

"I lost Della."

Fiona stared. That was all she was worried about now? Her doll and a necklace??

Fiona wanted to say something harsh, but the words got stuck on the way. She didn´t want to be the one who was brave. She didn´t want to be the one who never cried. She didn´t want to be the one in charge. She just wanted to lean on her father´s lap and listen to him tell her everything was all right. She wanted to play on te swing and listen to Rian´s singing through the open kitchen window. She wanted to play tag with her brothers. She wanted Shadow´s fur caressig her face. She wanted to sit on the porch banaster and teach Porridge to roll over and play dead. And most of all, she wanted things to go back to normal again.

Next to her, Elena wa still crying, and Fiona felt like joining her. Tears swelled up in her own eyes, and before she could even do something, she felt her cheeks get wet and was blinded in a set of tears.

Shyly, she reached out for Elena´s hand. The other girl clasped it tight, and they both wept, for what they had lost and what they had experienced.

At least, Fiona thought, and she was strangely comforted by this; At least we have each other...

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen sighed as she ground more valerian to put in the wine for Annunfuin. He had revived and was sweating again. She hated to see him suffer and thought it best that he sleep.

“Shouldn’t we keep him awake so he doesn’t go into a coma?” asked Taralphiel at one point. The elf stopped and looked into the face of the Gondorian shaking her head. “The pain of the poison is evil. Even one as strong as he can not stand it.” Taralphiel nodded and continued to shred aloe leaves and drop them in the mini cauldron full of boiling water.

“I have done what I can,” said Annanoldowen. “He will recover if he has a strong spirit.” The Elf placed her hand on the old woman’s. “I am worried about you now. I have not seen you since the Third Age! Now is as good a time as any to catch up on lost talk!” Taralphiel smiled as Annanoldowen spoke.

“I have been doing much studying lately. More than usual that is, and I came across scrolls, mm hmm, parchment sheaves yes I know, from the Second age! It’s brilliant! Oh no, not from Rivendell naturally, from Greenwood--er--Mirkwood, but it’s quite interesting the Silvan elves are a very diverse…”

Their talk waned on into the coming evening as they stood watch beside Annunfuin who slept peacefully. When the dial on the sill read half past six, his fever had left completely and both the elf and swan lady was informed of the events that occurred since their last meeting.

“This hasn’t been just a bandit party then. The wild men are set on conquer! Vanquish of your kingdom. I have never heard of such thing!” Taralphiel nodded, handing Annanoldowen thin gauze sheets to replace the one on Annunfuin’s thigh.

“We have been doing everything and up until recently it’s been enough.” Annanoldowen looked sideways quickly, Taralphiel’s brow was furrowed and she appeared to be deep in thought. “But just this last onslaught...we didn’t have--” The elf shook her head.

“Well we were separated. Split clearly in half. Once we reunite and figure out exactly what it is we need to do, the wild men will have no chance. Yes, thank you.” Annanoldowen took a chalice of the wine and valerian to Annunfuin who shook his head.

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” he moaned. “And the poison is nearly gone, yes?” The elf pursed her lips.

“Nearly but--” Annunfuin still refused the wine. “Fine, water then please.” Annunfuin propped himself up on pillows and listened as Taralphiel told of the Swan House and the advantages to which it could be put in the final battle.

[Cuthalion]

Herebrand strode outside into the brilliant day. He pulled himself into the saddle wearily sat his horse, then ground the heel of his hand into his gritty eyes, tired beyond reckoning. His eyes narrowed as he squinted up at the sun. What he would have given for an hour's rest, yet he couldn't allow himself that. His sense of honour and loyalty to his men was too deeply ingrained.

He sighed as he urged his mount forward. He had hoped that Ohtaredan would have joined him, to make the search easier. Herebrand shook his head as he rode to the nearest tavern to start his inquiries. "How can a man, especially a leader, lose an army? Gods!" He berated himself, for he had always been too hard on himself. His eyes closed of their own volition and he caught himself as he swayed in the saddle.

A bold young tavern-wench stood outside one of the inns just ahead of him, vigourously washing down the windows. She plunged her rag into the the bucket of water at her feet, then she turned and flashed him a smile. "Greetings, stranger! What business...?" She looked at him sharply, "Are you alright? You look done in. Get you down off that horse, man. Before you fall off!" She bustled to his side and put her hand to the reins. He grinned at her kindly, then shook his head. "Nay, my lovely. I'm looking for my men, an army in truth. Men like to myself...I could use an ale though." He dug in a pouch at his hip and tossed her a coin. Her eyes widened and she raced inside to fetch him a mug.

As he waited, he sensed that he wouldn't find what he was looking for in this place, or in any other for that matter. He would have to search the surrounding woods...again. Herebrand began to wonder why in all of Arda he had ever pledged his allegiance in the first place. His thoughts began to grow dark as she rushed back out to him with a frothing mug of ale. For the first time in weeks, he smiled broadly as he downed the ale in a series of huge gulps. "Another, my sweet, and then I must leave you. It seems to me I know where I can find them." She pouted a bit, then shrugged as she flounced away.

[Taralphiel]

Rudhchamion tested his footing along the undergrowth that was so close to the Swan House. Sniffing the air slightly, he kept his old sowrd at the ready, He also watched his companion carefully. The Man of the Order of the Black Rose was under the same pressures as he, and it was showing. Both had companions missing at the Village, with no word of their safety. But Rudhchamion trusted the skill of his nephews above all.

He peered through the branches, but tensed as he heard and unnatural movement near his side. The knight had heard it also, and moved to see what was there...


~*~


Through the shadows, the tent of the Great King could be seen. Straining, a man was bound and held in the corner, signs of battle clearly on him.

One Elf turned to another and nodded. The moon waxed on till all was still. Slowly shadows moved towards the tent.

Quiet words were mumbled between the two Elves and the young Gondorian, and they were gone as soon as they arrived, but left the captive with renewed hope.

~*~

Laurel looked up as the door to her grandparents small cottage moved open.

'My Lady Laurel, we must ask forgiveness for being missing for so long, and being unaware of the attack' began Gorath 'We were planning our route to our destination after here, and trusted Rudhchamion would be help enough'

'It is no fault of yours' said Laurel with fatigue 'But I am glad you are here now. Help is greatly needed'

'And we believe we can help you' said Galain, as he told her of Cartil's exact whereabouts and his condition.

Laurel got up out of her seat 'Well my good Elf friends, shall we retrieve good Sir Cartil?'...

[ June 30, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

A nice human youth brought the tea that Lanaey had requested, but the Elf's body decided that she had done too much too soon. Collapsing back into the bed, she sipped her drink, almost completley exhausted.

Even though her body was depleted, her mind was completely functional. Her ears pricked the smallest bit when she heard non-human voices. It was the Dark Elves, but what they were saying was too muffled by the other happenings of the house. She couldn't even tell who they were talking to and she gave a little snort in self frustration.

Strength started to fill her body as she lay and suddenly different woman approached her.

"How are you feeling?"

Lanaey looked at her, confusion creasing her brow the tiniest line. "I'm feeling much better. I actually feel as if I could get up now, what was in this tea?"

The human smiled and felt Lanaey's forehead. "A family secret. I'm afraid that I can't tell you though since I'm not in that family," her smile widened. "But I'm told that it involves Kingsfoil. A little more rest and you'll be able to walk around like normal. Right now, however, I need to change your bandages."

Lanaey's bandages did need changing. Her arm wrapping was showing large splotches of red that had seeped through and her human helper was afraid that her back bandage might start to stick to the healing agent and consequently, her skin. Thankfully it hadn't, yet Lanaey's back still stung as the cloth was taken off. A thick, pungent paste was applied to her cuts and a thin paper like cloth pressed into the paste before tough, riding cloth was wrapped around her. These were meant to be endurable so that she could move around at her own violition. Which was what Lanaey was itching to do, but being held back by her care-taker.

"Lady, you still need more rest. Your body hasn't fully recovered yet." The young human helper was very concerned as Lanaey forced herself out of bed.

Lanaey grabbed and gently squeezed her shoulder. "I've been resting too long; I need to stretch my legs. Besides, there are still things to be done and they're not going to get done if I'm lying here in your sick ward."

"Other people can do them, you still need to rest." She said firmly, trying to steer Lanaey back towards the bed that had confined her until recently.

"What is your name?"

She seemed taken back, but didn't stop trying to push Lanaey. "Deron, but what-"

"If you had an injury, yet someone needed medical help, would you deny them help so that you could rest and recouperate?"

Deron's eyes worked quickly from her to the floor to the bed and back again. She lifted her arms in a gesture of defeat. She didn't say anything, but let Lanaey pass her. Lanaey smiled as she walked by, but Deron didn't smile back at all, looking much too stern for her age.

Lanaey felt great, despite a few stabbing pains, but those were minor and she could suppress them easily. Suddenly she walked outside into a small gathering where Laurel and the Elven brothers were center...

[Taralphiel]

Laurel smiled at Lanaey when she appeared at the doorway 'I am glad to see you are walking now' Laurel moved towards her with a visible limp. 'We have some good news from our missing comrades. Cartil is alive and awaits rescue. I am going now to see where Herebrand is. He will help us plan what to do' And with that she unsheathed her sword and made her way slowly down the streets.

She shivered after a while, and rubbed her free hand against her shoulder. The night was getting colder and colder, and it made her small walk more difficult. After some time she passed the tavern, and asked the barmaid if she had seen Herebrand. She nodded and pointed not far down the road.

She found him moving through the houses, checking for signs of his men. Laurel felt a pang of pain and guilt for causing him such worry, and pain.

She moved forward and slowly said 'I am sorry I had to cause this. Your men were good fighters. I hold all my hope in them. Still, I should have known better...'

[Cuthalion]

At the sound of her voice, Herebrand looked at her in amazement. "Lady...why are you here, out in the streets like this? You are wounded, you would be putting your time to better use by allowing yourself to heal, not making that leg worse!" He had spoken to her gruffily and as he watched her face fall, he felt shame. He went to her side, his expression softening. "Lady, I spoke in haste. My people are quick to anger at times and I am between worry and sorrow for my men. They would have served you well, but it may be that they are no more." He turned his face from her. It had always been a matter of pride with him that he had never lost a man, now it appeared he had lost many more than just one!

She had flinched at the tone in his voice, then she lifted her chin defiantly. "I am more than able to take care of myself Herebrand, though I appreciate the concern." He had to admire her. She reminded him of the warrior women of his own land and he grinned despite himself. Here she was, a young woman of noble blood, not spoiled or pampered, but fiery, carrying within her the heart of a fighter.

He held out his arm to her, equal to equal. After a moment she clasped arms with him, then smiled at him in return. Herebrand clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Come, let us seek out those of our comrades that yet can fight and we shall finish what we came here to do. I am still bound to you lady, by my oath and I would not have it said that I am forsworn. Nay, sooner would I die!"

[Taralphiel]

Laurel walked beside Herebrand down the dark streets, searching for his men. Thinking over in her mind what could have possibly happened here while she was away, she began eliminating the possible places his army could be. She turned a slight, and looked over at a dense copse of trees nearby.

'Do you suppose they could be there?' she motioned with her arm. Herebrand turned and his face seemed lined with concern.

She thought for a moment before she spoke 'The battle here seems a muddle to me, but I have gathered a few facts of it. This battle was waged on more than one front. A small army from those trees, and from the plains. That would explain the skirmishes on each of the outer edges of the Village. Then it would seem that your men saw the moving army, and met them there. They caught some of the Wild Men in the trees, and the rest scattered into the town...'

'It is only a guess, but does it seem that could have been the way of it?'

[ July 01, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Taralphiel]

Cuor followed Gita through the trees till he saw the House in view and could wait no longer. He placed the dart carefully in the shooter and gave a quick blow of air, sending it whizzing forward at great speed. But Gita was ever a warrior, and she ducked it, letting it speed through the trees. She turned and snarled, and unsheathed her sword. Cuor smiled at her arrogance and dropped from the tree, his sword at the ready.

'Just what were you planning on doing eh?' he growled lowly at her. She came at him with her sword, and metal clashed.

'You stay away if you know what is good for you filth!!' he yelled at her.

[Cuthalion]

"Lady, it is certain we will learn nothing more of them now, it has become far too dark to continue the search. Let us go and find the others, for dawn will surely put all of us in a better frame of mind," he winked at her, "Especially as I am nearly dead on my feet. Come, let me help you up on my horse and I will see you back safely." She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "I can take care of myself, Herebrand. In case you hadn't noticed." He smiled in return. "Hmmm, I see by the scars that you will bear that you had some difficulty in doing so."

She slapped him on the shoulder, none too lightly, yet she realized he was teasing her. She knew that she had had a close call, but her pride wouldn't allow her any show of weakness. She respected the Rohirrim and she wanted respect in return. "I appreciate the offer Herebrand, but I'll have to decline. I'm as capable of walking back to the house as you are." He gazed down at her, then shrugged. "As you wish." he said as he re-mounted. He extended his hand down to her. "You sure? Last chance!" She glared at his proffered hand, then sighed as he swung her carefully up behind him, then they set off to re-join the others.

[maikafanawen]

“Filth?” she drawled. The woman stepped back, shaking her fiery hair out of her face. “I don’t remember ever being told to take orders from you elf!” she spat. Her words seemed to hit a slight nerve and he swung around again with his sword. She parried his first to thrusts and side stepped his third, trapping his blade with her sword’s hilt.

“Now,” she drawled, “why don’t you be a good little boy and run back to the king. I’m sure he has some measly chores for you. It wouldn’t do you any good to kill me. That would just make him angry with you. Don’t want to risk losing your precious--” She didn’t finish what she was saying. His eyes had become dark with hatred and his lips were trembling with rage. Gita cursed under her breath; she hadn’t meant to make him cross. Before he had come she had just been thinking that she wouldn’t get anywhere if she continued to offend and affront him. Sending her sword ringing home in its scabbard, she turned quickly on her heel, and walked briskly away.

“Here!” he yelled, fury in his voice. “Where are ye going? I am not thru with ye!” Gita smiled as she turned to face him over her shoulder.

“Yes you are Cuor.” Her tone of voice was gentle, taking the elf aback. “Ye always have been.” Not understanding her meaning, he rushed at her taking a dagger out of some hidden place and pressing it against her throat grabbing the back of her head with his other hand.

“Don’t tempt me!!”

“Tsk tsk. Why change your ways now. Wouldn’t you prefer that I turn my back first,” she chided. Cuor snarled.

“Get out!” The moment he let go she disappeared on her way to the village. Looking back she saw him trudge through the woods back towards the House.

“Damn.” Gita had always known that he would never think of her the way he thought of his Swan Lady, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t think of him.

The village was recovering from the attack when she arrived in her regular peasant clothes. She entered one of the inns where tables had been pushed together to hold the wounded. Not wanting to get caught up in the nursing, she snuck out the back and continued wandering. Gita wasn’t sure when the king would issue his next attack. But she had a gut feeling that Swan Wood would be more than ready for it, and they would fall drastically. The wild woman wasn’t sure where would be the safest place for her to be when that time came.

[Taralphiel]

Rudhchamion watched Thagon hit the forest floor with a sickening howl and a great thud. Racing to him, he saw what had happened. A dart, had struck him in the throat. His blood spilled onto the forest floor. His eyes were fixed on the stars, as he gurgled and tried to breathe his last. But it didnt last long.

Rudhchamion tore through the shrub to see the face of a man. He wondered if his eyes fooled him. It was one of the Eldar. The Elf looked at him with pale fear, and before he could say a word, the Elf fired a dart at him. Rudhchamion ahd expected this, and moved out of the way as it harmlessly hit a treestump. But the Elf was gone.

He moved back to the Gondorians side. His face was not twisted with pain, but as stone, no expression. He closed the mans eyes, and lifted his body, slowly trudging back to the House...

~*~

Taralphiel smiled at Annanoldowen 'That would be a thing I would very much love to look at. I do not know how many times in my old age I have looked over my library and-'

Taralphiel's breath was cut short. She turned around, and saw the dark Elf walk into the room. Droplets of blood marked his trail. In his arms was Sir Thagon. Rudhchamion simply shook his head. A tear ran down the old womans cheek.

'So we have lost the Knight of the Order of the Rose. That is something to mourn for a long time to come. Eru save us all'

[ July 05, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel dismounted Herebrand's horse with a flinch. She would have to take more care doing that in the future.

Heading back into the House, she heard the two dark ELves and Lanaey in a conversation of their own. Ohtaredan was yet to return from his search. Laurel embraced her grandmother, and saw to her grandfather. 'Thank Eru he survived this' she murmured. But he was in too deep of a sleep to talk more. Her grandmother knelt beside her 'He has not given up yet my child. I think he gets some of the stubborness from you' she laughed lightly at Laurel, and she grinned back, though it soon broke to a yawn.

Makeshift beds were littered about the house, and she and Herebrand soon found a place to get some sleep.

'I will help you find your men tomorrow' she said to him 'You know yourself I am not one to give up easily' she said with a light tone. 'Indeed' he chuckled 'Though it may go against you in a time to come' he said.

'Stubborness makes up for lack of hope I think' she said, and wrapped another blanket around herself.

[Kryssal]

Laurel had gone off to find Herebrand and hopefully his small army as well. Personally Lanaey didn't think that many of the army would be left if they had been in the fight at all. The fight had been so brutal and the enemy had had the advantage with their poisonous darts.

Many of the people that had been in the meeting with Laurel went inside the house, getting ready for the little sleep that they could manage. Sighing, she turned and saw the Elven brothers with their heads together. She walked over to them and they looked up quickly.

Galain spoke first. "You seem to be healing quickly." He had chosen a neutral point of conversation to start with.

Lanaey nodded and went straight towards her point in going to them. "I wasn't here for the telling and I was wondering if you'd fill me in on the details already given to the others."

Gorath raised an eyebrow at his brother, but Galain only shrugged back at him. Gorath then went into a short, sketchy description of the camp and how many men they saw. He ended with Cartil and how he was faring. Lanaey deliberated on the information and wondered how they were going to take the enemy. If they had Herebrand's army, it would be much easier.

The brothers seemed to be thinking along the same thought because Galain said, "Do you think that many of the Rhohirrim made it through the battle?"

"I don't think they did," Lanaey said as Gorath shook his head, making some of his hair fall in front of his eyes. "And neither of you saw them in your travels to find Cartil?"

Now both of the Elves shook their heads. Lanaey looked sharply at the pair. They both looked extreemly tired. Well, they had been awake for a couple of days traveling and spying, but they weren't giving in to their weariness at all. Lanaey wasn't going to tell them what they already knew.

Gorath suddenly spoke after a time. "It looks like we aren't getting the help of the Rohirrim."

Lanaey and Galain turned and looked in the same direction and saw Laurel and Herebrand riding in with no sign of the others. If the dark Elves had looked tired, they were wide awake compared to Herebrand. Laurel nodded in their direction before going into the house with Herebrand to get some sleep.

"There needs to be gaurds tonight. Who knows if the wild men would attack twice in one night," Galain said as Herebrand went through the door.

"I'll do it," Lanaey said quickly. "I've been sleeping almost all day. I can also find some villagers to help me."

Galain smiled, he knew what she was doing. As they too went into the house, Lanaey went in search of helpers and Drass. She found a couple of willing teenagers who weren't wounded and could stay awake all night to watch out for their loved ones, but Drass was no where to be found. She gave her high whistle several times around the outskirts of the village, but she still didn't show up. Lanaey had a twinge of worry, but she knew her horse well enough to not be worried too much.

The night passed quickly with the ceaseless wandering and checking with the other watchers. Soon false dawn started to spread over the land and Lanaey knew they'd be making plans soon. Heading back toward the house where everyone was staying Lanaey wondered if they'd be able to purge this land of the wild men.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena felt a hand slipping into hers and glanced up, shocked. Not only was Fiona holding her hand, but her cheeks were shining with tears. With a very watery attempt at a smile she squeezed Fiona’s hand.

The next thing she remembered was morning. Bright sunlight was slanting through the trees, onto the stream, onto the remains of a fire and onto Elena and Fiona sprawled out beside it. Sitting up, Elena rubbed her eyes. The horse was leaning over the stream, drinking, and Rian was lying curled up beneath a tree. Fiona sat up, blinking. Smiling at her, Elena walked over to the stream, washed her face and then drank. Fiona had gone to wake Rian.

After washing herself properly Elena fetched more berries for breakfast. When she gave them to Rian, she actually received a smile although Rian still had not spoken. The girls ate, and the horse cropped the bushes and grass. When they had all eaten, she came and nudged Elena’s arm, walked to the side of the clearing and whinnied to them.

“She wants us to follow” Elena whispered to Fiona, who nodded. Quietly each took one of Rian’s hands and began to follow the horse.

It was hard to tell how long the walk through the forest took, but although it seemed like a long time the girls did not feel tired. Suddenly they found themselves at the edge of a huge open space, leading from the eaves of the trees, where they stood, to the sea. Elena felt a strange thrill inside. She had never seen the sea and had not known they were so close to it. In between them and the sea there stood a great house. Elena could see that this was where they were being led. As they approached, the horse put back her head and whinnied loudly. At the noise, people began to come through the doors of the house.

The people all came out to mill around the girls and the horse, asking who they were, where they were from and how they got there. Fiona talked to them, while Elena held Rian’s hand. It was a surprise to see, all of a sudden, that most of the people had left. Fiona was calling to her to follow, and a nice lady was leading them into the house. From the corner of her eye, Elena saw the lovely horse who had probably saved them, turn and leave, probably to find the Elf lady. Elena waved, then felt silly. It was only a horse after all!

There were many doors in the corridor they walked along, and from one open door, a voice called to the lady who was leading them. Glancing at the three girls, the lady went over to the door and walked in. Elena and Fiona peered in through the doorway, drawing Rian behind them. An old man was lying in a bed, talking to the nice lady. Then he looked up and saw the girls.
“Who are you?” he called.

[ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Manardariel]

"Who are you?"

A man looked down at them. Well, rather, he stared down at them with great interest, like they were an especially rare butterfly and he was wondering how to catch them.

Fiona stuck her chin up at him. Let him try to pin them up, he´d have vomit all over him before he could say "Butterfly".

"My name´s Fiona, I´m Sir Rindal´s daughter. This is my sister Rian and this-" she paused.

The man was eyeing Elena in a way that didn´t look friendly at all. Fiona thought she saw Elena´s lip quiver.

"That´s my other sister, Elena." She said, quickly. Elena looked like she had been voted the girl with the cleanest dress ever. "We´re from the village. We were attacked yesterday, and kidnapped, but we managed to get away. We spend the night in the woods, and now we came here for help." Was it really only yesterday? The thought crossed Fiona´s head, leaving her stunned. It seemned like six months had passed since she´d been sitting by the well, feeling hurt and lonely because her squirrel had dared touch another girl.

Fiona suddenly realized the man was still looking at them like they were mad. Fiona´s eyes glittered malichiously as she stared up at him. His eyes wondered over their dirty, ripped dresses covered in blood, dirt, leaves and throw up. He studies their pale, dirty faces, their red-rimmed eyes, swollen from too much crying and not enough sleep. Fiona waited for him to say something. He just stared.

"Umm, Helloo?? Are you going to help us or what?" Fiona asked, impatiently.

He looked down at her, and a smile spread over his face.

"Hello. Welcome to Swan House."

[Cuthalion]

Blearily, Herebrand awoke as sunlight streamed in through a window. He turned his head and saw Laurel as she too stretched as she tried to scrub the sleep from her eyes. Herebrand grinned at her and heaved himself up off the cot. Muscles protested loudly and he groaned as he rubbed at his back. "I must be getting old..." He couldn't help but grin as she saw Laurel eye him with misgiving. If he looked as rough as he felt...well, he couldn't blame her.

At the moment all he wanted was breakfast, and lots of it. He wandered over to the nearest table that looked that it might have something edible on it. He was mistaken. All he could find was a few scraps of bread on a cracked plate and an empty goblet. He muttered under his breath as he stomped outside to find his saddle-bags, there always something stowed away for emergencies in there!

Thoughts of what could have befallen his men fought their way to the fore-front of his attention. He sighed, unable to fathom what had occurred. How had this happened? How had he lost track of his comrades? It was as though he was part of a larger story and he had been suddenly thrust into it without knowing what had gone before...He shook his head to clear it. "I must be exhausted to be thinking such fanciful thoughts!"

After a few moments of intense searching once he got to the stable, Herebrand found two strips of dried meat and he sat down on a hay-bale to devour his prize.

[Taralphiel]

Cuor lay in a dark corner of the forest, panting heavily. He knew that one of the men had to be dead. Such a fluke seemed to amuse him slightly. His temple throbbed when he thought of Gita, and what she planned to do to the Lady Laurel. He now knew he had to stop her. But to afraid to go into the Village, he settled for searching the House for her.

Moving around in the shadows, he looked into the end room of the House. There was the Swan Lady, kneeling over the body of the fallen man. The Elf too was there. He seemed to be of the same race as himself, making him all the more nervous. Another Elf was there, and Cuor moved away when he heard the rustling of bushes nearby.

He moved slowly around the House, checking rooms for any sign of the Lady. But she was not there.

Retreating back to the Southern Confines, he paced and thought. 'There is little to do now, but go to the Village. If Gita is there, it will not be long till she finds the Lady'

Cuor wrapped a cloak around himself, and set off towards Swan Village to claim his prize.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel moved around the small House, and cursed at her hobble. Her grandmother Rivwyn scolded her 'Its unbecoming of you dear' she fretted, and looked at her bandages.

'Being unbecoming is the least of my worries' she said, and winced as she moved her shoulders around. She felt as stiff as a board.

She unsheathed her sword and moved around a little, trying to test the weight on her leg. But it caused her a few very unbecoming stumbles and more whispered curses.

She moved outside to get some air, and almost fell over a grey-clad servant girl. Muttering apologies, she limped on, gritting her teeth.

She watched small numbers scurry from house to house, looking over their shoulders with worry. She watched mothers keep their children indoors, and warn them away from burnt or ransacked houses. She also saw wrapped bodies being moved out to the cemetary, and lowered her head, slowly shuffling along.

She wondered where Herebrand's army was. She wondered who was alive. She feared for Jesslyn and Leena, and Ilisit.

She saw Herebrand sitting by himself, and smiled, but did noy join him. 'He seems like he needs time to think' she thought 'If I were him, I know I would' And so she found a small crate at the back of a house, with a view of the plains.

She sat there and thought about what she would do, and what she could do. It was obvious she needed Herebrand's army in order to attack. Only then would the forces be even. She knew that she needed to find the person left in charge of his troop, and that was Ilisit. She had told the villagers his description, but none had found him dead or alive.

She let the cold air sting her face, and rested her head on the wall. She began to think out strategies of attack, whether to charge out front, or attack in small bands. She thought of the rescue of Cartil, and worried for his safety.

She looked at the bandages on her leg and arm with chargrin. Her exertion must have opened her wounds a slight. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what she had to do.

'You've made a mess of things, nows your time to fix it'

[Kryssal]

Lanaey walked toward the house and saw many different people stretching themselves out and walking away the nights stiffness in their legs. The Elf moved past them and into the house that had become the 'head quarters' of the fighters and wounded.

Since Drass had not returned yet, Lanaey couldn't get some of her food from the saddle bags. In a quick search of the house though, she found that many people there weren't breaking their fast either. Most of the available food was going toward the injured and sick, the rest of the food, which wasn't much, was being divied out to the smallest children. Her eyes fell on a tiny child, just bigger than the smallest, who wasn't getting any food at the moment because there was none to spare. He was trying to look brave, but he still ran off to hide his tummy rumblings and crying. Several of the villagers were going to their own homes to bring in food, but it wasn't very much.

Setting out once again, Lanaey went to the houses whos occupants were either dead or at the house. These were the houses that were dangerous with possible hiding men, or falling timbers from earlier fires. This search wasn't nearly as hard as she first thought it might be. Firstly, any real food storage would be kept in a cellar or at least on the ground floor; secondly, the third house Lanaey went to had enough food to feed the main house for at least a full day, maybe two. Smiling broadly she whistled to a passing group of four young women. They were hesitant, but at the Elf's urging they came in, saw the food, smiled themselves, and started to haul it over to the house. They only got a small portion of it, but when they returned, it was with much more help. Soon all the food was gone and Lanaey, being the last to leave at a much slower pace trailed behind the others. She was close to the borders of the village, and decided to take a look out and see if Drass was near at all. This was a part of the village that she hadn't patrolled last night and perhaps Drass may be resting near. She knew it was very unlikely, but trying wasn't folly.

Walking up just past the homes Lanaey found herself up to her waist in bushes. She didn't like this at all, anything could be in the bushes. Backing up and crouching low she tried to see beneath them, but being untrimmed, they grew down to the dirt, hiding anything they concealed. Frowning slightly, she slowly walked the expanse. On rewalking it, she found a small area with bent twigs that had been carefully put back into place. Though the area had been cleared and 'cleaned', Lanaey's un-humanly sharp eyes saw the gap where a human had crawled in. It could have been a villager that went through, but the Elf thought not. Pulling out a long knife, she crouched and started into the bush. Within a minute she had found an unconscious grown male with blood still seeping slowly from his side and a giant gash in his right leg. Lanaey was amazed he hadn't left a trail off blood all the way to his hiding place. Grabbing him she dragged his unresisting body out of the bushes and saw him to be one of the Rohirrim. She quickly checked him over and found that although his injuries looked horrendous he wasn't in immediate danger of death.

Knowing that her current physical condition would not allow her to carry him, she grabbed his arms and started to slowy drag him toward the sick house. Soon someone saw her, but instead of helping they ran off toward the house. Soon Lanaey's old helper Deron came running up. Deron gasped as she saw the extent of the wounds and the youth grabbed his feet while calling to others for help. Three more humans came and helped carry the injured man properly the rest of the way.

~*~

It had been at least five hours since Leena had arrived at the army’s temporary camp and they still hadn’t decided on a course of action.

The priestess sat in council with four high rank leaders and the discussion that had been going on for over an hour was about what they should do with the camped army. The messenger that they sent out three hours ago never returned and Leena thought it unlikely he had made it to the village since no one sent word. The army had too many wounded men to march off to the village and Settac, the main leader who had immediately taken over as acting Captain, was being very bull headed.

“We are in an unknown position to the enemy,” he repeated for the sixth time. “And to our allies,” Leena muttered as he continued, “And we have too many wounded to safely take back to the village. That’s all there is to this!”

Leena fumed at the balding would-be commander. “Fine,” she said in forced calm. “We’ll stay here till tomorrow midday at the least. We must move before the morn after though, agreed?”

He raised his head, looking slightly superior. “We’ll talk about it then.”

The priestess’ eyes flashed and had to forcibly restrain herself from attacking that arrogant prick. All he wanted was his new found power. He wasn’t even thinking about what his men needed nor about his duty to the village. She wished that Herebrand were here to quash his power trip.

The three, thus far silent, other leaders looked at each other and departed together. Leena stayed behind at the cold fire, trying to clear her mind, but it was resisting. Taking deep breaths and reaching inside for her training, a calm finally over took her and left her rational, even if she was still tinged with anger at Settac.

Looking around at the camp, Leena could understand why the pompous ‘Leader’ didn’t want to move. Many of them were close to dying and there was high risk in moving them. Personally, Leena thought that most of them could die regardless and the army had to get back to the village, it needed the good men’s protection. Leena had another surge of anger toward Settac at him going after a large band of wild men and leaving the village behind with most of the army following him. Now, because the battle had been more fierce than calculated they were stuck with too many wounded.

Going to her bedroll for the night, Leena swore that she would get the army out by tomorrow night, even if she had to gag and tie Settac.

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Annunfuiniel]

"Umm, Helloo?? Are you going to help us or what?"

Annunfuin’s wandering gaze stopped at the girl who had introduced herself as Fiona. One impatient young lady! he mused but couldn’t really bring himself to disapprove the girl’s lack of manners. Suddenly a fresh wind seemed to sweep through the room and Annunfuin smiled.

"Hello. Welcome to Swan House." he began; "My name Annunfuin and I’ll certainly try and help you, dear Ladies." Then he turned to address Elena who still looked a bit shocked. "I didn’t mean to frighten you, my friend; I wasn’t angry at you though I may have looked like I was." Annunfuin paused and once again his thoughts wandered far, trying to recall the last time he had actually laughed.

"You see, I don’t smile often. And while staring at you I was trying to remember if I had seen you earlier – and when I think hard about something I usually frown, like this..." and Annunfuin’s brow furrowed as he gave a coloured demonstration to back up his words.

Now it was the girls’ turn to stare at the man but as Annunfuin burst into laughter they soon followed suit.

"But now I remember! Elena, you are the girl from the Swan village whom Lanaey, one of my companions, nearly rode down." But presently Annunfuin remembered something else too and his face grew grave again.

"You say that the Village was attacked yesterday? That is dark news..." After a moment of consideration Annunfuin decided it would be better to take the girls straight to Lady Taralphiel to give a full account of what had happened.

"Briana" Annunfuin addressed the maid to whom he had been talking before the girls entered the room. He sat up in his bed and then cautiously tried if his wounded leg would bear his weight already. "My gear... I need help with the chain-mail..." Briana nodded and went to the door to call for another maid. Together the young women lifted the heavy mail and aided it on Annunfuin, tying the leather straps with practised fingers. Daughters of a soldier, Annunfuin thought approvingly as Briana brought him his sword. Over the clinking steel he pulled the black tunic of his guard uniform.

Annunfuin was just putting his sword into his belt when Fiona spoke after a silence which, the Gondorian could guess, had been uncommonly long for her tongue.

"Why did you get up only just now? We could never sleep that late! Well, unless we are very ill and then we must stay in bed many days and that’s boring."

"I didn’t sleep this late. But I have been very ill and I was told not to get up." Annunfuin spoke earnestly but then his eyes glinted; "Boring? Yes, it was boring – until you came."

"But now I’m feeling better and we should go and find the elf that healed me for I wish to thank her once more."

"An elf?" Elena exclaimed, finally finding her words. "Is she the same elf Lady?"

"You mean the one who nearly rode over you? No, this is another one." Annunfuin saw the disappointment on the girl’s face and rushed to continue; "But I’m certain you’ll find her as nice and fair as the one you have already met. And then I will take you to see the Lady of this House who is very old and wise..." Glancing at Fiona he added, casually; "...and must be addressed accordingly."

* * * * * * *

Annunfuin and the three girls wandered through bright corridors and spacious halls as Briana led them towards a chamber wing that she told had been rearranged as a hospital. There they should find the lady Annanoldowen.

On their way the company came to a room where a small cot had been placed in the middle. Annunfuin halted, bowed his head and raised a hand first to his brow and then to his lips as a token of respect and grief. One of those who gave their lives in the battle... Eru, keep his soul for only You know where it now dwells...

"Girls, follow me." Annunfuin heard Briana’s whisper and was about to turn and go after the others when suddenly he froze. His eyes had caught sight of the gear placed in the foot of the cot. It can’t be... He didn’t die!

And yet Annunfuin knew what he saw and great sorrow landed heavy on him. The long sword and the shield with the insignia of the White Tower... Sir Thagon Kestner had born them proudly in his life and now, in death, they rested beside him. Annunfuin kneeled and his grief was silent.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jess thought it was over. She couldn’t find any other Wild Men in the woods, but she didn’t find any live villagers either. They were either safe with the elderly and the young or they were dead upon the forest floor. None of the fighting villagers Jess had fought with originally were alive with her now; they were all hewn and hacked to pieces by the Wild Men. Jesslyn Stone had always thought she would be ready to see death before her eyes when she went to battle. She found out early that she had been wrong. Jess had been useless to save any of the fighting men and women. There had been nothing for her to try. Jess did not know anything about healing, and she didn’t know anything about fighting with someone against one opponent. All she could do was fend off those attacking her.

Jesslyn wandered wearily from the forest and back onto the streets of Alphirion. Most of the town was in ruins. If a house had not been burned, it had been pillaged and robbed of all goods or precious possessions. It took all her strength to keep from collapsing with exhaust and pain and fear. Jess slowly shuffled her way down the streets, and saw no sign of life anywhere as she walked. Perhaps everyone had gotten to safety or had been rescued by Lanaey or Leena, but Jesslyn dismissed the idea for one of more devastating consequence.

Her black hair was matted with blood near the back, where a Wild Man had smacked Jesslyn with the hilt of his sword. Jesslyn’s hands were coated with dried blood from her feeble and failed attempts to save some of the brave fighters of Alphirion. Jesslyn could not bear to look at her right shoulder, where an opponent had, as a last resort, slashed with his sword as he fell. Jess was beginning to go numb, and she was vaguely aware of a long gash along her neck and left shoulder blade. Jesslyn’s boots were muddied with leaves, muck, and blood; her clothes were no longer clean but were bloody and dusty.

Jesslyn knew it was foolish to think that she could have saved all of the fighters, but nothing could erase the image of each valiant villager as they fell. The sight of a falling man just trying to protect his home would haunt Jess forever, and the image of a girl not unlike herself dying in the arms of her brother would not stop refreshing itself in Jesslyn’s mind. It was all too much for her. If the Wild Men moved on, it could be Jesslyn’s town next; her home was so close to Alphirion!

Wandering farther into Alphirion, Jesslyn began to notice a few living people carrying goods to a house nearby. Was that where everyone was? Jesslyn couldn’t be sure, but she was too tired to go any farther. She went right up to the doorstep of the house, and moved just left of the door to keep out of the way of people carrying supplies.

“Where’s Cartil?” Jess wondered aloud, suddenly fearful for her brother. Then she smiled weakly, remembering he was at the Swan Lady’s home. Of course he would be safe in the House of the Swan Lady! “The children and elderly are safe. Thirty villagers…dead…”

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen watched as they lay Sir Thagon on a small cot and covered his body with a thin white sheet. He was to be buried at dawn the following morning. She turned to see to a guard of Swan House that had been brought into the long chamber wing now surrendered as a hospital. It was then that a maid beckoned for the elf.

“Lady, do you know the whereabouts of Lady Taralphiel?” Annanoldowen shook her head absently.

“She was here a minute ago but—I don’t recall where she said she was headed. Anything I can do to help?” The maid shuffled her feet.

“Well, two little girls and one older girl have just arrived. They are from the village. It looks like they saw some of the battle.” Annanoldowen stood quickly, tumbling the saucer of gauze she had been cleaning.

“The village was attacked as well?” Closed up in the hospital wing taking care of those in the House that had been attacked, she hadn’t thought of the village. Now she realized that she should have known both places would have been attacked. The damage done there was indisputably far worse.

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I can see to them. Where are they?” She bent gracefully replacing the gauze that had fallen into the bag of dirty rags yet to be cleaned and set the saucer on the table. “Wyerwen, will you please continue cleaning the rags. And Irigon needs his bandages changed, it’s been five hours.” Annanoldowen turned as six pairs of feet shuffled into the room and before her stood three village girls. One, the tallest, swayed on the spot and would most likely fall if the two younger girls didn’t hold her up.

“Here are Fiona, Rian, and Elena,” said the maid, pointing to each girl in turn. There was barely a moment of hesitation before Annanoldowen took Rian into her own arms and rushed her into the nearest bed. The maids in the chamber paused in their duties to gasp at the elf’s sudden strength.

Dipping a clean rag in cool water she dabbed it on Rian’s face. She was conscious but only just.

“It’s nothing really serious,” said the girl called Fiona. “She’s just in shock.” Annanoldowen didn’t smile and instead looked at the girl measuring how she felt and what she was up against. The first thing that she was that the little girl was brave. Yes, and she would be very helpful. The other girl called Elena stood behind her, looking concernedly at Rian. The elf nodded.

“Thank you. I will do what I can to revive her. Now, if you two will go see Rhanien, you will be given something to eat and cleaned up a bit.” With that the elf turned to the child on the bed before her and soothed her throbbing temples with herbs and laid a warm gauze strip across her eyes with lavender tucked into it. She would sleep peacefully for now.

Turning suddenly to the maid who had brought the three children the elf commanded,

“Find Taralphiel and tell her to come here. I’ve just remembered something of great importance that demands immediate attention.” Starting at the elf’s urgency, the maid rushed from the room to summon the Swan Lady. Annanoldowen turned suddenly eyeing the rows of beds that occupied wounded guards and even the occasional maid.

Taralphiel entered not long after, apparently quite flustered.

“What has happened?” Annanoldowen turned calmly and carefully.

“Cartil is in the hands of the wild men and their king.”

Guards were spared to take this message to Laurel and Herebrand. It would have to be up to them and whoever they had with them to rescue the Gondorian politician; Annanoldowen and Taralphiel had duties to the wounded.

“Think of the wounded in the village,” said Taralphiel. The elf nodded. She had been thinking about it, ever since the three girls had arrived just an hour earlier. She didn't look up and continued to apply fresh bandages to an old man's shoulder.

“Should I go to help?”

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel sat out in the garden, a small courtyard in the middle of the house, which most halls opened out onto. There were blooming Jasmine and other scented trees, and climbers weavingover the walls. The courtyard also held the tombstones of the family, and would soon be the resting place for Sir Thagon Kestler, of the order of the Rose.

Taralphiel sat and pondered why a man so proud and bold deserved a death such as that, and a restong place so far from his home. Though she thought of countless others who were the same, undeserving of their end. Her husband was only one.

She gripped at the cold stone bench, unable to put to any language what she felt, and one word. She simply sat there, and said nothing as a messenger bowed quickly before her and delivered a message.

'Milady, word from Lady Laurel. She says that the Village was attacked, and that the results are not favourable. She has also confirmed that Sir Cartil has been captured but is still alive. There is also a message here for Sir Rudhchamion, from his kin...'

Taralphiel looked up at the young man. 'Thankyou. I shall give you a reply when you have rested well. You have earnt it' She walked through the House when she came across Annanoldowen, and told her the news. She too, was filled with pain.

She did not have to wait long before she found Rudhchamion, and presented him with his cousins message. The look on his face lightened 'It will be good to know what they have gotten themselves up to' he said. Taralphiel lay an old hand on his shoulder 'You need rest my friend. You have worked hard, and suffered indeed. Please, rest a little while'

Rudhchamion did not have time to reply before Annunfuin presented himself.

'Lady Taralphiel, I have news for you...'

[Mathom Collector]

Ohtaredan stumbled, hastily regainig his balance as he wandered over the thick roots of a tree, coming out of the forest and into a village. Now, not only had he lost the men, but Herebrand, as well as himself in his neglectful wanderings in the forest. True, he had been searching for their men, but he should have payed more attention to where he was going. It would do no one any good, least of all him, for him to get lost and perhaps worse.

Fortunately, Ohtaredan had barely time to think of this before he was in civilization again. He found himself standing outside a tavern just as the sun came up over the trees. A young lady with a cap on opened the shutters of the front window, looking at him quizzically as she caught sight of him.

"Forgive me," Ohtaredan said obligingly and explained himself. Miraculously, the girl had seen Herebrand as well as another, a girl, who had asked the same question. Ohtaredan thanked the girl kindly and prepared to set off again.

----------

In the brief triumph of a new direction, Ohtaredan had almost forgotten that he hadn't found any of the soldiers yet. Leena, Ilisit, Jesslyn...in his sudden distraction, Ohtaredan wandered off the path again, but more fortunately this time. He looked up at the sounds of life, realizing that he was back at the house. Thinking that he should probably go back, for the others might be worried about him, Ohtaredan spied a female figure standing close to the door, as if in momentary thought.

Keeping his hand vaguely on Gostannendoll (more for personal security than anything else, as there could hardly be a safer place than this public one at the moment), Ohtaredan came up to the door to find to his surprise and utter elation, Jesslyn standing there. She had her back to him and seemed to have gotten her hair wet.

He cried the girl's name, coming forward to greet her, pushing past the people entering thouse, not noticing the look of distress her eyes--not looking at his--had adopted.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Mathom Collector ]

[Cuthalion]

A cry carried through the morning air to Herebrand as he sat idly polishing off an apple he had discovered in the hay, discarded there apparently by a errant stable-boy. His head went up and he threw the core to the ground as he sprinted toward the sound. Ohtaredan! It had to be! Herebrand rounded the corner of the House in time to see his comrade and a young girl, Jesslyn wasn't it? standing near the front door.

He stopped as he took in the girl's pale face and pained, vacant expression. She looked as though she had been stunned and was about to collapse. Ohtaredan cast a look his way and flashed him a smile. Herebrand wondered briefly if he looked as careworn as Ohtaredan did. "Be ready to catch her! She looks none too steady on her feet there." He strode to his friend's side and clasped his shoulder. "Have you seen any of my men? Are they alive?"

Jesslyn swayed where she stood and braced herself against the wall. Both men put out their hands to steady her and though she tried to push them away, her shoulder wouldn't let her fight them too hard. Herebrand held her steady as Ohtaredan winced at the sight of her head wound. "She needs help, let's get her inside." he said, then opened the door for Herebrand to assist her inside.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

As Jesslyn was led inside by Ohtaredan and Herebrand, she swayed slightly and stumbled over her own feet. She did not really want help from the men, but she was grateful all the same. They led her to some sort of cot in a large open room, where others were being tended to. Jesslyn was barely aware of her wounds now, but her want for sleep had become unbearable as her eyes blinked blearily and slowly.

"What happened out there?" Asked one of the men, who Jesslyn thought was Ohtaredan. She was too tired to remember which was which. Besides, Jesslyn was too preoccupied with wondering where her brother Cartil was. Ohtaredan was behind Jesslyn, and he found that her hair was not wet but was matted with dried blood. Herebrand sat on a cot across from Jesslyn, eyeing her scarlet, bloody hands.

"I...erm, well. I was...let's see...I was in the forest! That's it, I was in the forest. There were children, and we were trying to...we were trying to get them safely with the rest of the elders and children. Ahh...none of them survived...thirty I think. The fighters all died, a few children got away. All dead. Hilt of a sword hit my head. I tried to help the dying but I could not heal to save my own life," Jesslyn held her bloody hands up, but then shuddered and put them back down. "I got sliced twice. That's it."

Herebrand chuckled, but his glance was weary and his face was tinged with slight worry for the outcome of his men. Ohtaredan was finding some sort of healer, and Jesslyn was rocking back and forth from her seat, falling asleep almost. She could barely feel her arm, her back, or the back of her head...but somehow Jesslyn began to feel a horrible tingling feeling in her forehead that turned into a splitting ache.

"Where's Cartil?" Jesslyn wondered aloud, speaking to Herebrand. "He's safe, no? I was just thinking that he must be safe, since he was with lady Laurel and lady Taralphiel. Oh well. He never gets into trouble. How are you?"

Jesslyn rubbed her sleepy eyes subconciously, getting blood and red stains around her eyes as she waited for an answer from whoever might have been listening.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel got up from her place and headed back to the house. She did not like sitting idle, and she needed more bandages. Moving into the dark room, she squinted to see who was there. When she saw a young woman, she raced to her side.

She winced a little as she knelt by Jesslyn's side 'Thank Eru you are alive!!' she said. Jesslyn struggled for a smile, her face was drained of all strength. Laurel motioned for a healer, and looked up at Ohtaredan and Herebrand. 'Thankyou for your help' she said with a nod.

Turning back to the girl, she looked at her wounds 'You will need time to rest. Please lie down and manage some sleep'

'Where is my brother' she said absently. Laurel took a time to stand, and put her hand on Jesslyn's shoulders 'Rest now. I'll explain everything later' Jesslyn relented a while, nervous at her words, but the healers came and convinced her sleep was what she must do.

She found a place to sit, and got what were supposed to be bandages off a healer. It seemed they were running out of supplies here. She unraveled the bandages first on her leg, and found her assumptions correct. The wound had opened slightly, and she cleaned it as best she could, though it made her feel dizzy. Then with care she began to wrap the new bandage around, and tried to get it as firm as she could.

She stood up and headed out again, seeing the three Elves deep in conversation. She approached slowly, and waited for them to notice her. When they looked over she said 'Have you thought more on our rescue plan?'

[Kryssal]

The brothers looked at each other, and then at Lanaey, silently making her the spokesperson. Turning toward their leader, Lanaey put her hands to her hips for more balance and looked Laurel straight in the eye.

"For rescue, there are three basic plans that we can go by. Firstly, we can take a small group in and out, hoping that no one will be seen and all will go well. Secondly, we could take a huge force in, head on. It may confuse them and hopefully we'll be able to do a lot of damage. Lastly, we could send in two small groups; one to get Cartil, the other to cause precise damage," Lanaey paused, letting Laurel think over these options. After a few moments she continued. "I'm sure that you see all the dangers in each of these."

Galain and Gorath who had both been standing to the side qietly, shifted when Lanaey said 'dangers' and Galain quickly broke in.

"I think the best course of action for a rescue would be to send a small group in. We did get in undetected and could do so again."

"Yes, but I think," Lanaey spoke after he had finished, cutting off whatever Laurel had been about to say, "that we should do as much as possible to hurt them when they won't expect it. Two small groups would be -"

Now Gorath spoke up, "Yes, but how do you know they won't be expecting it and are readying themselves right now to take out a group that presents itself. Subvertive -"

Laurel put her hand up and all three looked at her, she was their leader after all.

"So, none of you want to do a full engagement," slight nods all around, "yet you've been, shall we say, discussing which is better: one group or two. Well, there are still more ways than that, say like three small groups. Yes," she shorted another flow of talking, "I'm sure you've already discussed all of this." Laurel paused, thinking again.

Lanaey shifted herself in the silnce, stretching out her muscles as much as she could. Today, she wanted her agility to be at top performance at any moment. Actually, she wanted to be like this till she knew the immediate enemy was no danger, and that wouldn't be for a little while.

Someone spoke, bringing her attention back to the conversation.

[Annunfuiniel]

"Lady Taralphiel, I have news for you..." Annunfuin began. But then he halted and took a moment to think about the past few days. "But on a second thought I doubt they are any real news to you, M'lady. The Village has been attacked but you knew that already, am I right?" The old woman looked at the grey Gondorian, and Annunfuin beheld what went on behind the Lady Taralphiel's piercing green eyes. He needed no words from her.

"Why wasn't I informed earlier?" Annunfuin asked and knew he sounded harsh the moment the words left his lips. Annanoldowen frowned at his rudeness but Taralphiel still stood silent. Annunfuin bowed his head slightly and his grey chin-length hair slipped to his cheeks. "I mean no offence, my ladies, and I don't want to sound ungrateful. Lady Annanoldowen, I owe you my life… But I have lain in bed while things would have called for immediate action. Sir Cartil was taken – I remembered it only when I heard the Village had been attacked – and Lady Laurel was seriously wounded…" A sudden realization dawned to the man even as he uttered those last words. "Where is the young Lady?" Annunfuin asked only to hear the answer already ringing in his head.

"Laurel went to the Village and she has just reported the attack as you told it to me, Sir Annunfuin." Taralphiel finally spoke and her voice was strained with fatigue and worry. "Yes, she was badly hurt but Lady Annanoldowen's skill and her own determination made that she was on her feet sooner than expected. But tell me, dear friend: how did you know about the attack?"

Annunfuin's grave face took on a slightly more relaxed expression when he thought about his little 'messengers'. "That is a strange tale and I'm afraid I know only half of it. You see, there were three little girls from the Village and somehow they ended up in my room. We were on our way to see you, Lady Annanoldowen, when I saw…" Annunfuin's brow furrowed at the memory of the cot and the body under the white linens; "…something else that needs explaining."

"Yes, the girls came to me with a maid of the House. I was worried about the looks of the oldest girl and feared the worst, but she should recover wholly with time. The younger ones I sent to get some food and they also needed to get clean clothes." Annanoldowen spoke before Annunfuin had a chance to continue.

"Three girls? All alone, no parents?" Lady Taralphiel asked and Annunfuin could again read the thoughts the woman did not speak aloud.

"One of the girls, Fiona, told me they were kidnapped when the Village was raided but they managed to escape and then spent the night in the woods. I know naught of their parents…" I know nothing at the moment but I will know, soon. Unconsciously Annunfuin's hand clutched the hilt of Rómenril. Mid-morning sun streamed through the high windows and revealed the fine dust playing in the air. Deep in thought Annunfuin stared at the dancing dust bits and for a moment the ever present wailing of the gulls seemed to become more distant. Others stood in silence too, engaged in wondering the fates of the Villagers perhaps. But Annunfuin fought a silent battle with himself trying to reason what to do next.

A particle of dust jumped up in the nearly motionless air… I should go to the Village at once! To aid Laurel and see what has become of our companions that we left behind. Eru guard them! …and then floated down, down and dropped out of the ray of light. But someone must stay here, organize the defence. There are too few men, too few; another attack and we are doomed… Annunfuin's eyes narrowed and his whisper was drowned by the humming breeze of wind that suddenly swept through the room.

"What did you say?" asked Rudchamion as the stir in the air settled down.

"Luck. It's time we trust our luck - but it needs to be aided a bit." Annunfuin replied and turned sharply back to Taralphiel. "How many still dwell in your House, m'lady; maids, guards, wounded…all together? This is important for I have a plan…"

But before Lady Taralphiel had time to answer the sound of light footsteps filled the air and suddenly two small figures rushed to the room from the eastern door…

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel spoke quietly above the silence, though she was sure that among three Elves, she would have been heard quite clearly.

‘I want this all to end. I want this to be the final offensive, at least if we can manage it. If we do not act now, when else will we have the chance? These people will not hold long. Their hope is almost gone. I cannot see this happen. I will do what I must’ she said and thought for a moment.

‘More than one group is the key. Though I see not a small group, but an army. If we rescue Cartil, then attempt to make as much damage as possible from within, their ranks will falter. If a large group were to attack…’

Galain spoke up, though his words were chosen carefully ‘My lady, where is such a group? I know the Rohirrim were a mighty force, but they are not here’

‘Then we will find them. We do not need many. Not even 200 would be enough.’ She said with head lowered

Lanaey looked at Laurel, then said ‘It is settled, we search for Herebrand’s men at first light tomorrow’

‘And if they are no more?’ asked Galain without tone.

‘Then we fight without them’ said Laurel, and walked away.

~*~

Taralphiel listened to Annunfuin, and nodded. She felt guilt for not telling him of his fallen friend, but before she could answer his questions, or quell his suffering in any small degree, she saw two children bound into the room. One was clearly the elder, wild in body and eyes. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her hair was wild and free. She reminded her of her daughter, when she was of that age, and that made her smile. The younger was almost a complete contrast. Pale and waif, her hair was long and neatly groomed. She had a stance that looked like she had carried many a sorrow and pain. Taralphiel had seen many of these children pass through her doors.Annunfuin tried to quieten them down, and Taralphiel smiled at them. ‘What are your names girls?’

‘I am Fiona’ said the older, with a wary glance. Moving closer to the other, she motioned to her and said ‘And this is Elena.’ ‘Well it is very nice to meet you Fiona and Elena. How are you enjoying yourselves here?’

‘Oh very much so!’ said Elena, with a sudden smile ‘Us and Rian are taken care of and are very happy!’ ‘That is very good to hear! You two have lost much, I can see it in your eyes’ she paused and looked at them. It seemed that Elena was most effected by those words. ‘Do you miss your family?’ she asked the little girl. ‘Della…’ she mumbled, and the other give a small look of annoyance. ‘Is that your mother?’ ‘No, my doll…’ the girl said and blushed.

Taralphiel put a hand on the girls shoulder and said ‘Follow me you two’ he lead them down a hallway, with Annunfuin walking in the rear. She skipped a few rooms before heading into one. As in most rooms, there were a few books and a comfortable bed and chairs. But filling the shelves in this room were many dolls and other toys. Taralphiel looked at them and said ‘These are the toys that children here have long grown out of. They gave them to me so that I would be able to give them to someone who would love them again’ She knelt down by Elena ‘You may find Della soon, but you may pick one of these dolls in the meantime. It will not be able to replace your friend, but give her a playmate too?’ She watched the girl give a small smile, and walk over to pick a doll from the shelf. Turning back to Fiona, she said ‘And I cannot leave you out, is there anything you would like?’

Both girls stood and chattered while looking for what to choose, and Taralphiel walked to the Gondorian who was hovering at the doorway. The girls soon whizzed past her and back towards the garden. ‘Let us find somewhere to sit so we can talk’ she said.

Sunlight streaked the small garden, and they sat on the warm stone benches there. ‘I hope you do not hold against me the fact I did not tell you of Sir Thagon’s…end. You were in no state to hear it. I did not want to heap more grief on you mind. I see you carry plenty from times now and before on your shoulders. I want you to know that he will be given proper ceremony as soon as you are up to attending.’ The man said naught, and so she continued.

‘As for your plans, I can give you help. It is time I used some of my studies. There are roughly 50 people here, you and I included. An attack here would not go well. We are desperately unguarded. We need to get these people to somewhere safer.’

‘As for an attack, I am sure that my granddaughter is planning it already. She does not rest long if she sees such a chance. Though what kind of attack she could make is uncertain’

Taralphiel looked Annunfuin in the eyes and said ‘But I will not leave here. My last journey from here I have already made. I wish to see the last of my home, if it comes to that. I do not wish to leave my husband and children again’

Taralphiel looked at four arched stones in the middle of the courtyard. Carved into with small pictures, each had a tale. By them, a small tree grew, its blossoms budding and falling at the base of the tombstones. ‘Ithilien, Estelien, and Eriador. All my joy came from them. Now they are gone. My daughter died in the arms of her love. I will do as close as I can to the same. I will not leave here…’

~*~

Cuor danced among the alleyways, keeping his hood about his face. He watched the day pass slowly by, scouring the streets for any sign of the Wild Woman, or better yet, the Lady Laurel. He found the latter first, with a group of Elves. He kept himself well hidden then, making sure their senses would not pick up a soul as wretched as his. Listening to their conversation, he grew pale. They were to attack! Cuor paused in thought, then smiled. ‘Let them try. Let them succeed. Those stinking animals deserve the slaughter. I will take what is mine in the confusion, and whether the outcome is ill or good for the Swan people, they will have lost their greatest treasure. He watched her intently, and narrowed his eyes as he saw her gingerly shifting her weight on her legs. A movement of her cape showed she was also bandaged at the shoulder. He grimaced, and cursed the person who inflicted these wounds. ‘Ah well, they will get what is coming to them. And if it was that woman…’ His train of thought was broken as he saw Laurel walk away with a noticeable limp. He moved to follow her, before he hissed and reached for his sword. He saw from shadows of an alley not far over another lurking figure. Gita. He licked his lips and slowly skulked after Laurel, intent on showing Gita that her efforts in this hunt were futile…

[Kryssal]

Lanaey looked at the brothers; they did not look happy at all with the decision that their leader had come to. Lanaey just hoped that they would stick to it and not go off on their own again.

Turning around she saw Laurel's quickly retreating back. Rushing her own steps to catch up to the human youth Lanaey caught her on the side of the road. Laurel raised her eyebrows in silent questioning when she turned at the touch on her arm.

"I just thought that you'd like to know that a Rohirrim fighter was found earlier today. I do not know if he will be awake to answer questions, but you might want to consult with the healers about him," Lanaey said, getting straight to her point.

"Oh," Laurel said, turning to look at the sick house as if to see him from her standing point. "Thank you."

Having nothing else to say, the Elf turned once again and headed off into the town. The dark brothers were no where to be seen.

Dusk would be settling soon and Lanaey couldn't help but feel that she hadn't really done anything today. The Elf knew that the thought was nonesense, but the knowledge that the enemy was out there and she had stayed in the town itched her.

She decided that sentries would be needed again tonight she headed off to find the young boys that had helped her the previous night. If they had been smart and slept during the day they would be of great help. There was a smaller house, near to the main sick house, that many villagers had taken to staying in since the big house was getting so full. Upon looking in there she found several of the teens ready and eager to help out again. She smiled at their willingness to help and wondered if their mothers were not so glad that they were helping out in such a way. Better than straight up battle at least.

After that had been set up Lanaey walked around the edge of the town herself, trying to quiet her mind and keep her body awake and ready. As she neared a road, she looked off into the distance and saw a small dot bobbing up and down.

Wishing that she had her bow on her instead of with the absent Drass, Lanaey pulled out a throwing knife that was braced to her and waited until she could properly see what was coming. It was alone, so whatever it was it wasn't a real threat. Squinting to get the most out of her eyes, Lanaey started walking forward so that she could discover what was entering the town's land at such a rapid pace. It was a horse...no rider...perhaps one of the Rohirrim horses or a wild man's who had gotten loose. Still walking the Elf covered her eyes to get rid of the sun's glare and was able to make out the color and shade of the mount. It was Drass. Smiling broadly and giving a sigh of relief, the Elf waited.

[ July 29, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel walked back into the House to find the rest of the group. She wanted other opinions on the plan of action. She found Herebrand sitting at a table, looking like he had a lot on his mind.

Sitting next to him, she began 'Herebrand, I know you are troubled. And so I plan that as son as we can, we shall find your army. We need your help to end this war. I cannot go on any longer' And so she shared her brief plan with him. She could not tell if he was for or against such a plan.

'I know it seems very foolish. But I belieev that a move not expected can be a wiser move in the end. Though, as I said, we need your help, and your Mens help. I have a feeling that they are not lost. There is a man in the Sick House that may be of your army...'

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Blushing with pleasure at how nice the lady was to them, Elena gazed around at the pretty dolls. They were fancier than Della, and some of them seemed quite intimidating, almost. Like dolls that were really great ladies and didn’t want to be owned by an ordinary little girl.

Elena sighed quietly, glancing beneath her lashes at Fiona. She would like a new doll, but Fiona’s friendship was more important. If Fiona thought she was a silly baby then she would not take a doll. Luckily Fiona was examining little carved animals standing on a shelf.
“Look!” she said, turning to Elena and showing one of them “here’s a horse like the Elf’s one.”

With a smile Elena turned back to the dolls. In between all the big, fancy ones she saw a small doll only the length of her hand with dark red hair and a forest green dress. It had been carved just like Della had. Picking it up wonderingly Elena wondered who had done it and for which little girl. The hair which had been stuck on seemed to be human. Perhaps it had been from the little girl herself? Or maybe a fairy. It looked like a fairy from the trees, she thought happily. The hair was like Fiona’s hair too, such a lovely colour.

“She is pretty”
Elena turned and stared at Fiona in surprise. She smiled embarrassedly.
“Well she is”

Elena grinned back.
“That’s nice too” she said, reaching out her hand for Fiona’s little animal. It was a squirrel just like Porridge, all the hairs in its brush carved beautifully.
“I wonder if the same person carved them?” she wondered aloud, then blushed. She never wondered aloud, always in her head.

“Perhaps” Fiona answered. “I think my squirrel wants to play in the trees. Do you want to come?”
“Yes” Elena answered happily. The tentatively she said “I think my doll comes from the forest too. She might be-“
“A tree sprite!” Fiona interrupted. “Like in Mama’s stories. She looks like it.”

“She does” Elena agreed. “Race you outside” she said boldly, feeling very happy all of a sudden, then started running through the big house. Fiona was fast and she caught up quickly. As they passed the nice man and the lady, Elena waved.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

It had been too long.

Cartil had lost all hope of being rescued or escaping his prison. Had everyone back at Alphirion and Swan Wood forgotten him? Had they even realized that he was missing? Perhaps they forgot him long ago. The elves had told him they would be back to help save him...but now Cartil was unsure that he had not simply imagined the meeting.

He was stuck in the Wild King's tent. It stank, it stank of many things that Cartil could identify but wished he could not. Cartil could no longer feel his legs or his arms, but it mattered not to him anymore. He longed for fresh air, but at that point Cartil knew that wishes were useless and frivolous.

Cartil began to wonder if Jesslyn was alive. He wondered if Laurel or Thagon and Leena or Herebrand and everyone else had survived. Cartil wondered if he was the only one left, and actually chuckled at the thought. There was naught he could do either way. Cartil longed for the sound of someone's familiar voice, he longed for tangible proof that everyone and everything would turn out fine.

Despite all of his wishes, Cartil had given up.

~*~

Jesslyn couldn't sleep.

How could she? How could she honestly sleep with her brother either dead or dying? Of course, Jesslyn didn't know if such was the case, but why else would Laurel have hidden his whereabouts? Something bad must have happened to him, otherwise Cartil would have been there at Jesslyn's bedside, and the girl knew it in her heart. He wasn't there, and in Jesslyn's mind that meant that he was somewhere in trouble.

The nurses and healers had other people to worry about than Jesslyn apparently, for they left her after they were convinced of her feigned sleep. Jesslyn sat up, swaying for a moment with the dizzyness that swamped her. When she had recovered from the effects of her head wound, Jesslyn darted from her cot and began to sneak her way to a back door. She had to do something to help her brother! Jesslyn wanted to know he was fine, though a nagging voice in the back of her mind told her it was pointless to look. She didn't know where he was, only that he was in trouble.

Jesslyn sprinted out of the back door, running into the Swan Woods. She let the stray branches hit her face and body, and didn't bother dusting herself off when she fell into the mud. Jesslyn's crazed frenzy to find Cartil was fueled by both her head injury and her knowledge of what her parents and family would do knowing Cartil was dead or could have been alive. Jesslyn could see their faces, she could see them mourning Cartil and blaming her. Jesslyn could see them wishing that it had been her instead of Cartil.

She couldn't let that happen. Then again, Jesslyn also didn't know where Cartil was to begin with. For almost an hour Jesslyn crawled and ran around in the forest behind the healing house, but never really going more than a mile away from it. At one point Jesslyn came out of the forest in plain view of Laurel. But then Laurel walked back into the healing house. Jesslyn didn't bother to stop and worry about Laurel seeing or not seeing her, and continued to run off into the woods to find Cartil.

[ August 02, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Cuthalion]

"Laurel, come, tell me of this man you speak of. Has he spoken of me or of the army? Ohtaredan! Have you seen this man?" Herebrand shook off his lethargy and stood along with Laurel as he asked to be taken to speak with the man she had mentioned. Ohtaredan shook his head. "Nay, Herebrand. I haven't been in the sick house at all of late. It is possible that one of may recognize him though. There is always hope, my friend!" He clapped Herebrand on the shoulder as they followed Laurel.

Ohtaredan marvelled at the change in Herebrand since the beginning of their acquaintance. He had at one time been light-hearted, seemingly care-free. Now it seemed as though he bore the brunt of the blame for the army's disappearance. The fact that his army had vanished for no apparent reason weighed on Herebrand greatly and the sight of seeing so robust a warrior beaten down saddened Ohtaredan.

Herebrand himself could only hope that the man they were about to see was able to tell him where, or even if, his men still lived. If they didn't...No! His mind recoiled from the thought. At least some of them hadto be alive! They were needed. Laurel needed them and he refused to admit he would have to break his sworn oath.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel came to the door of the sick house, with the two soldiers following behind. She prayed this man they were seeking could help them somehow. She could not help her people without this army, and she loathed feeling so dependant on their strength, but she could do little about it.

She glanced over the cots and beds, and searched for a nurse to direct them to where he was. A small hunched woman approached, and pointed in the direction.

'Where is Lady Jesslyn?' Laurel asked the nurse, still lookin at the beds. 'My word, she is not supposed to be up...where could she be?' Laurel felt a great pang of guilt fill her. She had neglected one who needed her. She gave quick word to Herebrand, and ran out to look for her.

It did not take her long. Laurel had keen eyes in a place she knew so well. When she saw a figure semi-stumbling towards the forest growth, she did not need to think on it. With her own bad leg, it took her longer to tryto catch up to the woman than was expected. 'Jesslyn!' She called out 'Jesslyn please do not do this! I'll explain all to you if you let me catch up to you!'

[Kryssal]

It was midday and Settac had finally shown up to Leena’s summons for a meeting. The other three were already there, not saying much and looking elsewhere. The maiden couldn’t blame them for staying silent; Settac was their superior by small margin and they were used to taking and relaying orders, not giving them.

Settac practically flounced in and set off with, “We can’t move.”

Leena clenched her jaw several times before speaking. “Three more men died in the night due to lack of proper medical treatment. We’re out of the meager supplies you had and the village was what you were sworn to protect!”

Settac almost bounced on his heals, reveling in her lack of power. “We have the same problems as before: too many wounded, unsafe to move-”

Leena cut him off, stepping forward as her temper slipped another notch. “And what of your duty? You aren’t even with your Captain-”

Now Settac cut her off, puffing his chest and letting a red tinge appear on his scalp. “I am their acting Captain and they follow my command, not yours! I will not go-”

“We are going,” a collective voice rang from the side. Both Leena and Settac turned toward the other there advisors who had finally decided to speak up. “It is only logical to go, though there are ethical issues as well,” the man in the middle spoke.

“We went around last night and talked to all the men; the consensus is to leave. How you have ‘led’ us will be reported to Captain Herebrand upon arrival at the village,” finished off the one on the right.

Leena could have sung for joy. Settac was making some sputtering noises as he clamored to recover his composure after being unseated by the ‘mutiny,’ but no heed was paid to him.

The man who first spoke up against Settac walked over to Leena. “Though we wont be able to leave until sun up. By then everything will be packed up and the wounded ready to move. The medic said that six men will not be able to move before then. If it weren’t for that, we would be leaving now,” he gave her an encouraging smile before he squeezed her arm and walked off.

Leena smiled and went off to help prepare for departure, then noticed an almost pungent odor. Ugh, I need to bathe!

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

In her heart Jesslyn knew she had gotten nowhere and that her efforts to find Cartil were fruitless. Still, she pushed herself onward through the trees past branches and leaves and boulders. Jesslyn didn't want to go back, and be fated to never know what had happened to her brother. Knowing the truth of what happened, no matter how terrible or gruesome, was better than never knowing at all and being left to wonder. But what would her family say? They'd know. Somehow, Jesslyn had a horrible feeling that her family would somehow know if Jesslyn had stood by and done nothing.

Distracted and lost in her own thoughts, Jesslyn vaguely recalled stumbling over a fallen tree trunk and hitting the mud face first. She sat up slowly, gruabbing and hugging her muddied knees tightly. Jesslyn hurt all over, but she didn't want to stop looking for Cartil until she had found him.

Jesslyn!

Jesslyn whipped around, letting go of her knees and sprawling out in front of the tree trunk. Now she was hearing things! It was too close by to be a real person! Jesslyn began to despair, wondering why everything had begun to go wrong and why it was all happening to her. Part of her was screaming at the other, yelling that self-pity and such feelings were useles. The other part of her was hollering back that nothing was fair and that she deserved a chance to sulk.

"'Jesslyn please do not do this! I'll explain all to you if you let me catch up to you!"

This time the voice was closer, and it wasn't surreal or imagined as the other one had seemed. Jesslyn screamed weakly, and scrambled up from her spot and began to run again through the trees. She could barely see through her blurred vision, and soon rammed into the base of a strong-standing tree.

"Ouch..." Jesslyn wailed, rubbing her forehead and trying to pick herself up from the ground. It was no use. Whoever or whatever was calling her name would catch up no matter what, and Jesslyn was weaponless thanks to the nursemaids at the healing house. It was no use running anymore. "This just isn't my day."

Jesslyn barely heard the footsteps of a running Laurel as she came bounding towards Jesslyn. All she could comprehend of Laurel's approach was the pounding in her forehead that came as a result of Laurel's footsteps.

"Where's Cartil? He's dead, isn't he? You would've told me if he were just injured, and he would have been there for me if he had been alright. You don't have to hide anything! Just tell me he's dead!" Jesslyn mumbled weakly in a high-pitched voice that emitted since Jesslyn could barely suppress the sound of her sobbing. Jesslyn didn't want to yell at Laurel, so she bit her lip and waited for an answer.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel saw Jesslyn sobbing by the base of thr tree. She knew that she was in as much pain as herself, both mentally and physically. She wouldve crouched by her, but she felt her leg would tear at such an attempt, so she leant heavily against the tree. Jesslyn spoke first, and Laurel couldnt look at her "Where's Cartil? He's dead, isn't he? You would've told me if he were just injured, and he would have been there for me if he had been alright. You don't have to hide anything! Just tell me he's dead!"

Laurel finally lifted her head and looked into her eyes. She saw all her pain, and she knew exactly how it felt. She never thought she could cause that kind of pain to someone. She saw herself searching for her grandfather, her mother, her father, and her uncle. She remembered asking her grandmother where they all were, why they wouldnt come out of the Sick House, or why they hadnt returned from a mission. She hated not knowing, she hated being lost. Laurel couldve screamed.

'Your brother is not dead' Laurel whispered. Jesslyn looked with complete shock 'He is a captive, of the King of the Wild Men. We will be getting him back soon. We will bring him back to you alive. I will see to it personally' Laurel said it almost gruffly, and grunted only a little as she bent down and offered her hand to Jesslyn.

'You can be angry at me, I will not stop you. But you shouldnt be told such a thing when you were in that state. Now, let me take you back, so we can both be tended to' Laurel looked at her sodden bandage and shook her head. 'I need some rest if I am going to get your brother back'

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Drass had gone quite a long way and needed to have a good sit down rest. Leading the steed to where other horses were being held, Lanaey quickly took off the tack and other items that Drass had been shouldering. Then Lanaey proceeded to give her a long rub down while she contentedly munched her way through several carrots before starting in on her grain.

It was while Lanaey was putting away the brush that she remembered the little girl she had nearly run over on her way into town. Hurridly running through her memories of the last few days the Elf couldn't find her. Despite the facts that Lanaey had been fighting and was unconscious or in the sick room for a full day along with the numbers of villagers running around, Lanaey had an uneasy feeling. She should have seen Elena at least once! Finding the child suddenly seemed very important and her mind would think of nothing else.

Walking fast footed to the second main house she started asking random men and women if they'd seen a little girl named Elena who carried around a doll named Della. She was just asking the third person when a man spoke to her side.

"She's missing, along with my two daughters." The man who spoke was haggard with a burn shining on his right arm. The eyes that stared at her were hollow and dark with fatigue of mind and body.

Lanaey took him by his good arm and started leading him to the main house that had all the healers.

"Did you search among the dead?" it was harsh and blunt, but she needed to know. The question didn't seem to pierce this father like it would have to others.

"Yes, but I also know if they're dead I may never find their remains."

They got to the sick house and a young maiden came over to help.

"He needs treatment for this burn and a sleeping draught," the Elf spoke very quietly to the girl.

"I'll find them," Lanaey said directly to the parting man; she just didn't know if she'd find them alive or just their remains.

~*~

Night was starting to fall, but the army wasn't going to stop till they had reached the village, darkness or no. They were all moving very slowly, for each man was needed to help carry or support those who could not help themselves. They hadn't even been able to send out another messenger to find Laurel or Herebrand. They had only been able to send out periodic scouts to make sure that they were heading in the right direction, but the scouts had to return soon to help with the carrying; every time one scout left another healthy man had to take up the slack in his absence.

There were simply too many wounded, for every one man down it took two to help. Not to mention the weapons and other slight supplies that had to be dragged along.

Leena shifted her arms and tried to stretch out her sore muscles slightly, but they were pinned by the stretcher she was helping carry.

She looked off into the forest knowing that they were dead if attacked by the wild men in force. Now Leena simply prayed that they would find the village soon.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

He was alive! Cartil wasn't dead! Jesslyn took Laurel's outstretched hand warily, but pulled herself up without depending too much on Laurel's strength. Jesslyn wasn't sure which was worse: Cartil possibly being dead or Cartil being captive of the Wild Men. Jesslyn shook the thought from her mind, and was filled with a new resolve to find Cartil and save him no matter what the cost. Her famly wouldn't stand for it any other way.

Laurel led the delusional Jesslyn back through the words, carefully avoiding anything that they might trip over in their weariness. Jesslyn felt like going to sleep, but wondered if that meant she'd never wake up if she did. Jesslyn's thoughts wandered every which way, from the outcome of the battle for Alphirion to what her sister was cooking that night for dinner. At least her fears had been faced and she had survived the night, or so Jesslyn reasoned.

When Laurel and Jesslyn successfully navigated their way out of the woods and back to the side street behind the healing house, Laurel was limping slightly and Jesslyn was hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand to try and ease the ache. They entered the healing house some time later but still walking as quickly as they could. Both Jesslyn and Laurel were weak and tired, and the first thing they did was flag down a healer for help.

Jesslyn and Laurel were soon seperated for care, and Laurel said she would be back later after she had talked to Ohtaredan and Herebrand. Jesslyn's shoulder and back wounds were cared for first, but then the healers tended to her head wound and gave Jesslyn some sort of medicating tea for her fever and headache.

Jesslyn went through the care and medication with anxious acceptance, wanting everything to be over and done with. She knew that every minute she spent in the healing house was another moment that Cartil could be dying through. When was the last time anyone had seen Cartil? If it had been so long, or too long, perhaps it was already too late! Jesslyn hated feeling she was wasting her time in the healing house, and yet she knew she had to wait for the opportune time when everyone who could help was ready. But still Jesslyn knew that precious time was slipping away.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel was herded towards a bed by a nurse, but she stopped abruptly. 'Where is the soldier that Herebrand went to see?' 'Why, just over there Mi-' 'Take me there' she said rounghly, and leaned on her a slight as she moved towards them. The two soldiers were leaning by the mans bed, not saying a word...

~*~

'Captain...' he wheezed. His head was aching, and the pain in his leg was beyond his descrption. His Captain smiled wearily at him. 'Where is the rest of the army?' Herebrand said in a small voice.

He rubbed his temple and let out breath with effort. 'In...the forest...I think. They are lost my captain. That fool...he will not let them move. Too many wounded...' He stopped and looked at hos Captain, and saw his distress. 'How many are still alive?' 'A few hundred last time I knew Cap'n. There could be less now. They are not moving. He is a coward..' he said, and balled his fist, before moaning at the pain at his temple.

'They must be found Captain. They are lost'

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen stood in the shadow cast by the arched window that blocked out the sun watching as the survivors were gathered, and the dead tallied. The wings now designated as hospitals held the few wounded that had survived the poison injected into their bodies at Annanoldowen’s hand. The elf wrapped her weary arms around her body and sighed. She had done all she could and gave the handful of nurses who helped her all the recipes and necessary ingredients to continue without her.

The silvery blue dress she had donned for the purpose of meeting an old friend was now in pathetic tatters. The sleeves had been pinned allowing Annanoldowen plenty of elbowroom as she attended her patients. Traces of washed out blood and even some vomit were on the skirt and the bodice was lopsided. Altogether her appearance wasn’t very admirable. She hadn’t had time to change and decided that now would be a good a time as any.

The attack upon the Swan House wasn’t as brutal as it may have seemed. Most of the inhabitants had taken up immediate sanctuary and avoided the wrath of the wild men. There were, thankfully, twice as many living as there were among the dead. The she-elf had gone over her options to action now in her head.

She could stay and offer her assistance as a nurse and even a swordswoman should a second attack be ensued upon the house. However, the most logical course of action would be to take up Taurawaa and ride to the village. Annanoldowen was very talented in the area of medicines but she was also gifted with politics and strategy. With Cartil in the hands of the wild men and with a second attack most likely on the way, things would have to move incredibly fast and the Rivendell elf would like to be involved.

Abandoning her place by the window she made her way through the house inquiring for Lady Taralphiel until one maid pointed her towards the garden. Annanoldowen looked out towards the magnificent yard and saw the Swan Lady speaking with Annunfuin. They looked to be in relatively deep conversation and the elf decided to change her clothes first. Her room on the third level had been untouched by the attack and her things were as they had been left. She discarded her dress and replaced it with the shirt, jerkin, pants and boots she had purchased in the village. Plaiting her hair down her back she took inventory of her bag. She still had a plentiful amount of medicines, the Swan House having most of the necessary herbs already.

Strapping her sword to her waist and slipping on her bag she walked briskly out to the gardens to tell Taralphiel of her decision to travel on to the village to help in the rescue of Cartil and the defensive plotting against a second attack.

As she reached Taralphiel and Annunfuin she bowed.

“It has come to my consciousness that I am no longer desperately needed here at the house. The half dozen maids in my wing had all but perfected the simple yet necessary methods of healing and the survivors are well in order preparing for a second ambush. The village most likely would welcome my assistance. I wanted to let you know before I just disappeared though and see if you objected.” Taralphiel blinked.

~*~*~

Gita finished her exploration of the town in two good hours, recording in her mind just how many villagers were left. Since hardly any were warriors, the wild men had killed all but three score and she had seen merely a dozen children. The assault had been very successful and the last raid would dispatch of the remaining villagers. It was sweet victory that met her eyes as she continued her assessment.

She was moving just out of the shadows of one house when she saw Laurel and a few others making their way down the street. Her breath caught in her throat and she dived back under cover to wait as they passed. Gita watched with flaring contempt as the Swan Lady limped away. What she wouldn’t give to decapitate that pretty little head of hers with the concealed dagger gripped in her left hand. The impulse almost got the best of her but they turned into a house just as she left the shadows, a wicked grin on her face. She cursed under her breath and turned down the opposite way back towards the camp to report her findings to the king. It would be an easy triumph.

Her hopes were dashed as she made her way through the woods. Voices and footsteps ahead warned her of a decent mass of people making their way through the village. From her position behind a gorse bush she witnessed the remains of the Rohirrm army en route to the village and their captain. Some were wounded but there were still a good many able bodied men that would certainly prove a great threat to the wild men if appropriately assembled.

Things seemed to go from bad to worse as she continued on towards camp, Cuor hot on her trail.

[ August 15, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[ August 20, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[The Ruling Ring]

"How many are still alive?"

"A few hundred last time I knew Cap'n. There could be less now. They are not moving. He is a coward..They must be found Captain. They are lost."

Ohtaredan felt his heart come into his throat at this response to his captain's question. The thought of the men, Herebrand's men, their friends, their comrades-in-arms, forced to remain, like helpless animals in the woods, sickened him. And the thought that their wounds and perhaps the wild men could be picking them off one by one was a thing he didn't even want to contend with.

"We must find them," Ohtaredan breathed. "We must."

"Indeed," Herebrand replied softly, his eyes glazed at the soldier's words.

Ohtaredan leaned down to the man, speaking quietly so as not to excite him, but loud enough for the man to hear.

"Thank you, friend. Rest now, you have done your best. We shall find the men, we shall bring them back."

The patient nodded, though it seemed his wounds and necessity only dictated that he should rest at all, Ohtaredan could tell as he straightened up.

He looked at his captain and friend, questions filling his eyes. In calmer times, Ohtaredan realized that he leaned quite heavily on his superior, but in these times, Ohtaredan only saw him as the bravest and most capable man.

[ August 10, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Manardariel]

Have you ever seen any apples like that?”

Fascinated, Fiona stared up at the round, scarlet-red appels weighing down the large trees in the Swan Garden. Next to her, Elena was cradeling a babydoll she´d found. Now she looked up too, her eyes spreading in suprise.

“Fiona, they look just like my uncles! His apples were the roundest in five villages! He always said that you can´t grow apples like that: you have them, or you don´t. I always wanted to have a little appletree like that, but tthen, then they- the trees, they were all burnt...” she sniffed, but seemed to recover quickly. “They tasted wonderful!” she added.

“I bet they did...” Fiona said slowly. She still felt a bit uncomfortable about Elena´s watery revivals, but she kept her tounge behind her teeth- there were more pressing maters now. Like how to get one of those apples. Fiona grabbed the lowest branch of the apple tree and swung herself into the highter branches. She picked two apples and dropped them into the grass, before jumping down herself.

Grinning broadly, she handed on of the apples to Elena, who looked horrified.

“What now” Fiona asked, exasperated.

“You can´t just eat the apples! They´re not yours! And look what you´ve done to your dress! And that´s not yours either!” Elena shrieked

“All right, keep your head on. It´s only a dress! And these apples- you´ve got to ea them before they start to rot!” She sank her teeth deeply in the fruit. “Absoloutly delicious!” she told Elena, but laughed un der her strict look. “Okay, okay. I´ll go to the Swan Lady and tell her I´m sorry I broke her dress and that I won´t do it again. All right?”

Elena nodded, than happily bit in her apple.

“Girls, I want you to take a nap. You must be so worn out!” The Swan Lady walked in the garden, smiling kindly down at them. Elena shot Fiona a sharp look, who roolled her eyes impatiently in return. Elena stuck her tongue out at her. Fiona crossed her eyes and wiggled her ear back. They caught each other´s eye and burst into a heep of giggles.

“Umm, Miss Swan Lady...” Fiona said, biting her lip. “We –err, all right, I thought those apples of yours looked so good, so I...I climed up the tree and picked two. And I ripped your dress, too. I´m sorry; I won´t do it again!” She looked up at the old lady, who smiled kindly.

“Did you like the apples? She asked. Both girls nodded happily. “Off to bed then!”

Fiona couldn´t sleep. She wasn´t tired, not at all. On the contrary, she felt restless, restless- and worried.

“Elena?”

“Yes?”

“Are you asleep?”

“No.”

Fiona sighed deeply and turned over in bed.

“Fiona?”

“Yes?”

“Never mind.”

Fiona heard Elena sob in her pillow.

“Miss Priss? You okay?”

“Hmmm”

“Hey-?”

“What?”

Fiona stared at the wall. What did she want to say? And how? She sat up in bed.

“Elena, do you think- do you think Porridge and Daddy and Hurin and Beren and Beor and Aragorn are okay?”

Elena sniffed. “I don´t know.” She wispered softly.

Suddenly, Fiona got up. She knew it was crazy, but she had to do it- she just had to! “I´m going to check if they´re okay; and what happened to our house. You coming with?”

Say yes, Elena, say yes. Please say yes. I can´t do this without you. Please say yes

[ September 03, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

“I´m going to check if they´re okay; and what happened to our house. You coming with?”

Elena stiffened in the dark. She couldn't sleep- everytime she closed her eyes images of the burnt farm swam into her mind, only now there was Fiona's house too. But running away? She bit her lip. Everyone here had been so nice, and it seemed like a horrible thing to do. And what if there were still wild men in the village? There were so many problems she felt her head start to ache.

"What about Rian?" she asked slowly, trying to get her head clearer.
"She'll be fine here" answered Fiona. "We don't want to have to look after her any more"

"What if there are wild men in the village?" she asked again, fearfully.
"It's dark. We can go really really quietly." Fiona said practically. There was a note of pleading in her voice that Elena had never heard before.
"Ye...es" she said "and people here keep talking about how they're fighting them, I just remembered. That's alright then, but can we just leave? Isn't it...rude?"

Fiona sighed impatiently.
"Well it would be" Elena answered stubbornly.
"But if we wait until morning they won't let us go!" Fiona objected.

Elena sighed, then ran over to the window. She withdrew the heavy drapes so that the light of the moon softly lit the room. On a shelf there was a rough slate that was probably used to teach children to write. But there was no chalk. Desperately Elena sept her hands into the dark corners of the shelf until it finally closed on a stub.

"Here" she said, holding it up to Fiona, who nodded.
Quickly Elena printed a message,
We wanted to check on our family so we have gone to the village. We don't want to worry you. We're sorry. Please look after Rian.
Elena and Fiona

Looking at it she thought it didn't seem like the letters that her Aunts used to write somehow, and her writing had become messy since she hadn't practised for almost a year but at least the Lady would know where they were.

"We might as well go then" she said to Fiona with an effort at a smile, but her voice shook. She was very scared.

[Kryssal]

Leena didn't think that her arms could hurt more when the army had stopped for a quick dinner, but when she picked up the stretcher again after the break she found out she was wrong. Her arms, having known freedom for that wonderful short time were now rebelling. Griting her teeth she mentally scolded her sore muscles and told them there would be no more respites till the village was in sight.

The trek through the forest wasn't happy. It was very slow going and now the scout that they had sent out at the end of dinner hadn't come back yet. Leena took that as a good sign, saying that he had perhaps reached the village and was getting some help from Laurel or Herebrand. Others, most particularly Settac who was whining at least every quarter of an hour, said he had died by the wild men.

If we didn't have so many wounded right now I'd knock him into his own stretcher. Looking back she could make him out carrying a very light pack.

As she was turning her head back to watch where she was going, Leena saw a soldier suddenly pitch forward onto the man in front of him. Calling out a warning to the other carrier of the stretcher, the priestess hastily put the stretcher down and set off toward the newly fallen.

Suddenly voices erupted in alarm and clashing swords could be heard. Unsheathing her own blade Leena's arms had new strength flow into them as she focused for battle.

New voices were ringing, ordering the men to take form and stand firm. The three leaders were holding the men together. Several strange calls seemed to be coming from up ahead of the army, but the priestess had no time to ponder on these.

Right before she reached the fights, Leena's arm was wrenched to the side and she had to stop herself from slicing the offender when she saw it to be one of the Rohirrim.

"You have done this to us!" Settac spat at her.

Feeling that he was taking her away from the battle and that he was the worst person she had met in awhile, Leena almost decided against retaliation. Almost - reaching back with her free arm she palm puched him in the face. He wasn't expecting this and fell back abruptly letting her go.

The scene came up in front of her, mostly hidden by the forest greenery. There seemed to be about ten wild men killing any Rohirrim wounded or standing. Many of the soldiers were already dead.

She took out a dart and threw it into a wild man about to impale a soldier who was on a stretcher now lying on the ground. As she went to engage another wild man a soldier fell sideways, the victim of a dart, and hit her leg on the way down. Struggling to fend off her opponent and get her footing back under she received a stinging wound in her side. Looking down quickly she saw it to only be a shallow sword slice.

Trying as she might, Leena couldn't get her footing stable with the uneven ground and fallen men blocking her. Not many of the Rohirrim were fighting, having been ordered to form perimeters around the wounded. Fear flashed in her mind as she saw a strike she couldn't defend properly against. Right before it struck, the wild man suddenly stopped, his eyes turned wide. As he fell over dead, Leena turned to see who saved her.

[Manardariel]

“We might as well go then...”

Fiona gratefully looked at Elena, who had just posed the note on her pillow. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow I will be extra nice to her....

The two girls tiptoed out of the room. Fiona didn´t even dare to breathe. She lead them in the garden. Out here it was bright, though huge clouds seemed to be forming in the east. Swords seemed to kling in the background. Fiona turnred around to see a terrified Elena, trying very hard to be brave. “We´re going through the back gate. We can climb over it, it´s really small.” Elena nodded.

Without another word, both girls walked over. Fiona showed Elena where she could put her feet before climbing over herself. The old appletree´s leaves stirred in a breeze. She felt watched. The girls followed a path around the house. Shortly before they broke out into the main street, Fiona turned her head back to the house.

“We´ll be back.”

The village seemed sweeped empty. The streets were silent, and yet a very distant sound of battle could be heard, more like an echo. It was a heavy kind of silence, a silence that made the hairs on Fiona´s back prickle. This was not the village she knew. This was a place she didn´t want to see alone. Well, she wasn´t alone now! Elena was silently keeping up, her shoulders pulled up and her eyes wide open. By insticnt, Fiona took her hand. “Don´t be scared.” She wispered, squeezing it tight.

They turned around a corner, another. Signs of destruction everywhere. The bakery had burt out, Farmer Lidun´s house was only a pile of rocks. Fiona felt fury and grief rising in her at he same time. Why did they have to do it? It´s not fair, it´s not fair.... Trees had been cut down, even the streets showed marks of fire and dark stains. Blood, Fiona realized in shock.

They turned right. Fiona closed her eyes, measuring the steps towards her house. She knew Elena was doing the same. Time seemed to have stopped. She couldn´t bare it. She didn´t want to open her eyes, didn´t want to know...but she had to.

“On the count of three, we open our eyes.” She told Elena. “One, two- THREE”

[ September 03, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena opened her eyes and stared nervously up at the house. Even though when she first came, she had thought it was strange she suddenly realised that she was very worried about it, as well as everyone in it. There was a horrible sick feeling in her stomach every time she thought about her Papa.

The house itself seemed to show very little wrong with it. There seemed to be a lot of damage in the garden, smashed windows and the door was lying face down on the path but there was no sign or- Elena sniffed- smell of burning. There was also no red stains, which had to be a good thing.

Fiona had moved to the doorway, staring into the dark passage- despite the long walk it had not yet come to dawn. The sky was still a sort of inky-blue, almost black and only moonlight allowed Elena to see what she had of the state of the house. Inside there was no moonlight. Elena felt her heart jump into her throat at the thought of what might be waiting inside.

There could be monsters! she thought fearfully, trusting what she had heard that the bad men had been driven away. But the most important thing to do was find Papa. Trying her best to ignore her fears Elena went to stand beside Fiona. Although she was almost completely in the shadow Elena could see enough of her face to see that she also looked worried, so she reached out to squeeze her hand. Fiona squeezed back, then pulled her arm away. Together they walked through the doorway.

Elena walked forward slowly, trying to remember the placement of different objects. Fiona knew better, of course, and walked off quite fast, reappearing with a candle. In the soft light Elena could see the damage- quite a few things knocked over or broken and some things seemed to have gone missing. Fiona looked upset, but she seemed restless too. There was no sign of anyone. Together the girls moved to the stairs.

The rooms upstairs did not seem to have been damaged. Elena wondered why, but was most concerned about the people. They weren’t in any of the rooms upstairs and the girls went back down. Finally Fiona yelled out to see if anyone answered, but still no-one did.

Feeling numb Elena walked outside and sat down in the somehow comforting moonlight. He wasn’t here then. What did that mean? Perhaps he had been taken like she and Fiona and Rian had been? Perhaps he was
dead. Elena could feel a sob building up in her throat, but she was interrupted by a small shadow coming towards her. It was Porridge the squirrel. Elena held her hand out to him, almost happily. He hopped on, and Elena saw that he had blood on one of his small front paws. She held him up to the moonlight and saw a sliver of glass in it.

“Fiona!” she called loudly, forgetting that they were supposed to be quiet outside. Fiona came running. Elena showed her Porridge’s paw.
“What shall we do?” she asked, with tears staining her face.

[Manardariel]

Porridge! He was alive, he was back, he wasn´t- "Oh Porridge!" Fiona´s eyes filled with tears as she kissed the squirrel everywhere, his bushy tail tickeling her sweetly. "Porridge, you´re hurt!" Fiona gently took his paw. She ripped a piece of cloth from her dress, and carefully wrapped it around the squirrels hurt paw. She kissed the improvised bandage and looked at Elena.

"He wants to thank you." She said simply, letting porridge on Elena´s arms. In a moment of simple understanding, the other girl petted his head.

"You´re welcome." Elena said, but it seemed much like she meant Fiona. Porridge jumped back on her shoulder. Fiona pulled her nose and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Porrige was back. She felt things would be alright, some day. But where were the others?

"The barn!" Fiona slammedd her forehead with her palm. "Of course! They must have his in the barnhouse. Come on Elena, I´m sure they´re there. I know it."

Elena followed her quickly. They ran up the yard, past the swing and the oakes to the old barnhouse. The door stood open a jar. Fiona put her finger to her lips. Elena nodded. They tiptoed in.

The barn was pitch-dark. The familiar smell of hay and wood embraced and calmed Fiona gently. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark. The stacks of hay were untidy, not neatly stacked as usual. Rian would faint! Fiona thought, smiling. But the thought of Rian being lost and apathic let her lips fall down again. Would she ever be alright?

"Fiona!" Elena wispered in alarm. Fiona swung round. Elena gestured her to listen. And sure enough, low, muffeled voices seem to come from a corner of the barn. What was that? Unsurely, Fiona moved forward, towards the noise. Suddenly, she bumped into something.

"Ouch!" Said the something.

Fiona screamed and backed off. Elena stood stil as a statue, her eyes wide open. Her mouth was shut tight, as if she was trying hard not to scream. Suddenly, the something -or someone, really- pulled back his hood.

"Elena? Fiona? You´re alive!"

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin listened to the Swan Lady’s quiet voice with mixed feelings. “. . . Sir Thagon’s…end . . . you carry plenty from times now and before . . . he will be given proper ceremony . . .” The words rang in the old man’s mind. Floods of pain, anger and pure despair flushed over him with such power that finally he was numbed. Sir Thagon… Well, he’s at peace now – unlike the rest of us. the Gondorian thought grimly; And may be we will all join him quite soon. None of his dark thoughts did he speak aloud while a black cloud seemed to veil the sun from him.

But as Annunfuin glanced up he saw the sun and a cloudless sky. The darkness was inside of him – as it had been for what seemed like a lifetime. Over thirty years and I have yet to find peace… The grey head lowered as if suddenly weighed down by the long years passed. Thirty years – gods let me rest already!

“As for your plans, I can give you help.” The prolonged silence was broken by the soft voice of the lady of the House. Plans… – and suddenly the unbearable weight eased, the dark dream passed; Plans! Annunfuin raised his head and his eyes kindled; This isn’t over yet, I still have work to do! Maybe then…I will be forgiven…

Time for private musings was over and the soldier took control of the situation. The Guard of the White Tower knew all there was to know about defence and also – if need be – of evacuations. Taralphiel’s account of their odds wasn’t promising but it was truthful: Annunfuin was painfully aware that the number of capable fighters was virtually non-existent. I need to see a map of the forest, the sooner the better… Two leaders, two groups, with 25 in each and taking different routes – that should do it. With lady Taralphiel’s authority and Rudchamion and Annanoldowen’s help we should be ready before sunset. Even the thought of these preparations made the Gondorian’s blood run faster and he felt alive, as if in battle already. Now, as always when he was excited or nervous, Annunfuin fingered the hilt of his sword.

“As for an attack, I am sure that my granddaughter is planning it already. She does not rest long if she sees such a chance. Though what kind of attack she could make is uncertain.” Annunfuin wasn’t sure whether to frown or smile at these words by Taralphiel and so his face twisted curiously. Many and more years had passed since he had cared so deeply for someone as he now cared for the young lady Laurel. He knew her skills as a shield-maiden and yet… he couldn’t help but worry.

A gust of wind from the sea found its way to the sheltered garden and blew a lock of dark grey hair to Annunfuin’s face before finding its way through the many passages and halls of the Swan House. Wind bells rang softly. Annunfuin pushed back the rebellious lock and then shook his head lightly. Concentrate! he told himself silently; Laurel will do fine, she’s not alone!

Suddenly he became aware of the silence in which even the humming tune of a distant waterfall sounded crystal clear. Lady Taralphiel sat silent and Annunfuin could feel her gaze fixed on him. Her emerald green eyes flashed in the sunlight;

“But I will not leave here. My last journey from here I have already made. I wish to see the last of my home, if it comes to that. I do not wish to leave my husband and children again” Annunfuin’s fingers tightened around Romenril’s carved hilt. Of course something like this had to come - otherwise things would have gone too easily! ‘Woman, we have no time for this with so many lives at stake!’ With the warrior spirit so strong in him he managed to swallow the rough words only with an effort. Instead of insulting her Annunfuin followed the old woman's gaze to the middle of the courtyard.

Four white tombstones stood under a blooming tree. “Ithilien, Estelien, and Eriador. All my joy came from them. Now they are gone. My daughter died in the arms of her love. I will do as close as I can to the same.” Taralphiel’s words hit Annunfuin straight to the heart and he breathed sharply, as if suddenly stabbed to chest. We are so different and yet so alike! She would understand my pain… “I will not leave here…”

Annunfuin couldn’t sit still any longer. He stood up and walked slowly to the stones. As if seeking for support he placed his hand over one of them.

The cold touch of the white stone made the bowed figure shiver. Cold and dead… Annunfuin drew his hand away and turned to the green, living tree. The leafs whispered to him gently, calmingly.

The Gondorian looked over his shoulder, back to the Lady Taralphiel and a new, unexplained surety was in his tone as he then spoke:

“M’lady, your pain is now my pain – and I will in every way to help to carry your burden. I know loss too… But now I know something else: that even in the middle of death and suffering a new life may be born and flourish. From your daughter your granddaughter was born…” Annunfuin paused but then continued as if urged forward by some outer force; “And even now – when all seems lost – love and life will. . . they already have overcome.”

Annunfuin’s thoughts wandered to his young companions as Taralphiel silently came to stand beside him. He gave her time to consider his words for he knew pushing her would be of little avail. Minutes melted together and vanished into eternity. . .

“I will not leave…”

Annunfuin closed his eyes and sighed: the battle was lost.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel fixed her eyes on Annunfuin. He was struggling to find convincing words. She saw pain in him, and she knew what he was about to say, almost before he said it.

“M’lady, your pain is now my pain – and I will in every way to help to carry your burden. I know loss too… But now I know something else: that even in the middle of death and suffering a new life may be born and flourish. From your daughter your granddaughter was born…” Taralphiel looked to the ground, and watched the dead leaves being dragged by the light wind. She felt time drag at her that same way. She felt her life go cold.

“And even now – when all seems lost – love and life will. . . they already have overcome.”

Taralphiel looked at Annunfuin, and held no expression. She could not answer him. She was bound to this place. She was bound to her children, and to her husband. She thought of things to say, but could not utter them. Though she knew he knew her resolve, and that she wanted to meet her end

~*~

Laurel turned away from the soldier, and let Herebrand talk to him more. She did not know hoe to react. The army was not dead, but they would not be that way for long. All her fatigue piled on her. She still had two of her comrades missing, and one in such conditions...She could not think of what was happening to him and keep her anger subsided. She knew she could have stopped his suffering. She could have cuaght him back. And she inflicted pain upon Jesslyn as well. Her guilt had not relented.

She headed outdoors. She needed to find the three Elves, and talk more of strategy. She knew they were not pleased with her decisions, and she wanted to come to a reasonable compromise, now that she had calmed down a slight.

Swords ringing raised her senses. She ran through the streets to see a Rohirrim fending off Wild Men. She could have cheered, but instead she threw herself at the nearest Wild Man, despite her injuries.

The last time she fought, she had lost. She remembered the face of the Gondorian man, the man who reminded her of her father. She remembered what he told her. Her movements became less rigid. Her leg slowed her considerably, but she was no longer in a Wild rage which compromised her thinking. One Wild soldier came at her, and she dodged his sword, and carefully stepped and brought her blade through his back and ended him quickly. She felt everything flow smoothly, and she felt no more rage.

She quickly went to aid one Rohirrim, and sliced the throat of a Wild Man. 'Leena!! Thank Eru!' she said, before she was attacked and was driven away from her. It did not take to long to work her way back, and by that time the Wild Men were all dead.

Smiling widely, she said 'I am glad you are found! There is much to be done! But first, you all deserve plenty of rest!' She held out her hand for Leena to lean on, and moved to the Sick House.

~*~

Gorath turned to Galain 'He will not last more than a day' His brother nodded as he helped pour water into the young man's mouth. He spluttered, but drank gratefully with assistance.

'We will be coming back with the Lady to rescue you. Rest, and keep quiet' He managed a nod.

The brothers did not take long to get back silently through the forest. They found Laurel at the Sick House, helping Lady Leena. They did not take long to pull her aside.

Her face was already lined with cares someone her age should not have. Gorath put his words out simply 'Cartil is dying. He will not wait for your plan to be fullfilled.'

Laurel lowered her head, then gruffly said 'We will go and get him now. This is my fault. I am coming with you'

[ August 20, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Leena was greatful for the arm since she was now having problems standing. The battle lust had now worn off and all of her old aches decided to combine with her new ones.

"You've no idea how relieved I am to see you right now, thank Nienna. It took much longer than anticipated to reach here. How many in the village survived? And what of the House?"

Laurel didn't look at the priestess when she asked the questions.

"Well," the young sheild-maiden started, "The House and village were hit at the same time. Many were lost on both sides and the village got hazed a bit as you can tell. We have a whole house set up just to take care of the sick."

Leena looked back over her shoulder before they entered into the sick house Laurel had just spoken of.

"You might be needing to set up another one. The army has many wounded amoung their ranks, almost as many as are whole."

Laurel looked at Leena quickly, then turned and led the way into a small room where only an old man lay sleeping. "There's something you should know. During the battle Sir Kestner was hit by a dart and killed."

Leena blinked and then blinked again. Finally she nodded and started to walk past Laurel who tried to put a hand on her. With a look the priestess turned the leader away. Leena held her arms tight about her as she walked through and out of the sick house where new Rohirrim were being brought in for treatment. Once the priestess reached the outside she went to a small side street, knelt down and started a death prayer and chant; gently she rocked back and forth as she went through the haunting, swaying motions that would help Thagon's spirit, and hers as well.

[Annunfuiniel]

Maikafanawen's post

Annanoldowen stood in the shadow cast by the arched window that blocked out the sun watching as the survivors were gathered, and the dead tallied. The wings now designated as hospitals held the few wounded that had survived the poison injected into their bodies at Annanoldowen’s hand. The elf wrapped her weary arms around her body and sighed. She had done all she could and gave the handful of nurses who helped her all the recipes and necessary ingredients to continue without her.
The silvery blue dress she had donned for the purpose of meeting an old friend was now in pathetic tatters. The sleeves had been pinned allowing Annanoldowen plenty of elbowroom as she attended her patients. Traces of washed out blood and even some vomit were on the skirt and the bodice was lopsided. Altogether her appearance wasn’t very admirable. She hadn’t had time to change and decided that now would be a good a time as any.

The attack upon the Swan House wasn’t as brutal as it may have seemed. Most of the inhabitants had taken up immediate sanctuary and avoided the wrath of the wild men. There were, thankfully, twice as many living as there were among the dead. The she-elf had gone over her options to action now in her head.

She could stay and offer her assistance as a nurse and even a swordswoman should a second attack be ensued upon the house. However, the most logical course of action would be to take up Taurawaa and ride to the village. Annanoldowen was very talented in the area of medicines but she was also gifted with politics and strategy. With Cartil in the hands of the wild men and with a second attack most likely on the way, things would have to move incredibly fast and the Rivendell elf would like to be involved.

Abandoning her place by the window she made her way through the house inquiring for Lady Taralphiel until one maid pointed her towards the garden. Annanoldowen looked out towards the magnificent yard and saw the Swan Lady speaking with Annunfuin. They looked to be in relatively deep conversation and the elf decided to change her clothes first. Her room on the third level had been untouched by the attack and her things were as they had been left. She discarded her dress and replaced it with the shirt, jerkin, pants and boots she had purchased in the village. Plaiting her hair down her back she took inventory of her bag. She still had a plentiful amount of medicines, the Swan House having most of the necessary herbs already.

Strapping her sword to her waist and slipping on her bag she walked briskly out to the gardens to tell Taralphiel of her decision to travel on to the village to help in the rescue of Cartil and the defensive plotting against a second attack.

As she reached Taralphiel and Annunfuin she bowed.

“It has come to my consciousness that I am no longer desperately needed here at the house. The half dozen maids in my wing had all but perfected the simple yet necessary methods of healing and the survivors are well in order preparing for a second ambush. The village most likely would welcome my assistance. I wanted to let you know before I just disappeared though and see if you objected.” Taralphiel blinked.

[ August 21, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Silence fell between the two grey figures; not an awkward but kind of relieved one, such that follows when a difficult conversation is over, despite the outcome. Taralphiel had made her mind and Annunfuin knew he could not change it. Uttered words would only have dropped to the air to hang between them like a blurring haze.
Annunfuin tried to steer his thoughts elsewhere, away from the difficulties ahead to some useful matters. But stubbornly his mind turned to their desperate situation, their defencelessness against the enemy’s overpower. While turning these matters over in his head Annunfuin paced feverishly to and fro on the smooth lawn. There must be some way… there must!

But no matter how he twisted the truth the Gondorian saw little hope in their case. Their company had scattered; first they had split into two groups and then, when the attacks came, the disaster was a fact. Now, judging by the little what he had heard, things in the Village were nothing short of a chaos and at the House… The last time I saw us all together was just before the raid. Annunfuin stopped, his frown revealing his perplexity; Was it just two days ago? It felt like years had passed since he last saw Sir Thagon… or heard that one young lad so proudly present his parchment to the Lady. A small smile crept to the aged man’s lips as he thought of Cartil Stone – only to disappear in a flash when he remembered what had happened to the young diplomat. Why did he come here? What a waste… Annunfuin turned on his heels and began walking the same route as only a moment earlier.

Suddenly he froze still and felt his heart skip a beat. Lady Taralphiel’s expression was quite a sight when Annunfuin without a warning swung round and exclaimed;

“Of course! What a fool I’ve been!” In the excitement all blood rushed to his cheeks making him blush like a teenager in love. “The parchment! King’s parchment!” Annunfuin suppressed an urge to grab the old Lady by her arms and shook the answer from her. He steadied his breath and continued in a calmer, yet a bit shaky tone; “What was it about?”

It took a while for lady Taralphiel to recover from Annunfuin’s sudden ‘attack’. Her green eyes that had first flown wide open now narrowed as she searched his face for further signs of insanity. Then, little by little she began to perceive what he was talking about and the expression her face took was a mixture of hope and anxiety.

“How could I forget? Now it may be too late! Yes, it was important: ‘Two times fifty men to be put into Your command if need be. . . two days ride, the camp is located at the Mouths of Anduin. . .’ Oh, I can’t remember it all!” But the newly kindled light in Taralphiel’s eyes died even as she finished her last sentence; “But four days to get there and back again. It’s too late…”

Just then they heard the sound of nearing footsteps and both turned to face the comer. Annanoldowen stopped in front of them and bowed.

“It has come to my consciousness that I am no longer desperately needed here at the house. The half dozen maids in my wing had all but perfected the simple yet necessary methods of healing and the survivors are well in order preparing for a second ambush. The village most likely would welcome my assistance. I wanted to let you know before I just disappeared though and see if you objected.”

Taralphiel was still too shocked to answer to the elf-lady’s polite words. She had sat on a bench and now just looked at her friend, speechless. But seeing Annanoldowen in her riding wear gave Annunfuin an idea which he rushed to speak aloud before lady Taralphiel could give her permission for the elf to leave.

“Lady Annanoldowen. Though the House would be ready to let you go I’m afraid we will be needing your assistance in another matter.” At these words both the ladies turned their questioning glances at Annunfuin. The late-morning sun shone high over the House and already made the air quiver. “How fast could you make a ride of about fifty miles?”

[ August 27, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn had dozed off, but let one eye open when she saw Leena hearded and helped into one of the bunks adjacent to Jesslyn's own. She lived! Leena lived, but Sir Thagon had not survived. Suddenly Jesslyn felt a swell of pity and sympathy for Leena, knowing the torn ache the woman must have been feeling. As close as Leena and Thagon had been, Jesslyn realized how hard it would be for Leena to get over such a thing. But what surprised and intrigued Jesslyn even more than Leena's supposed emotions was the conversation between Laurel and the two Elven brothers that proceeded Leena's entrance.

Gorath and Galain pulled Laurel aside, so that the three of them were standing just to the left of the foot of Jesslyn's bunk. Gorath and Galain's faces were stony with regret and yet determination as well. Jesslyn closed her eyes and pretended to be sleeping, and still she listened as carefully as she could to the conversation.

"Cartil is dying," Gorath began, and just these words sent a shiver up Jesslyn's spine. It was true! Jesslyn's worst fears were admitted right before her presence. Cartil was dying...dying! While Jesslyn just laid there and tried to recover from wounds that could have been dismissed or avoided Cartil was dying! But still Gorath was not finished. "He will not wait for your plan to be fulfilled."

"We will go and get him now. This is my fault. I am coming with you," Laurel answered with resignation and bravery that could only be admired at such a point. Still Jesslyn couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger at the woman. Why would she leave without telling Jesslyn face-to-face that Cartil was dying? Did she not want Jesslyn going along? It was Jesslyn's duty to help her brother!

Laurel was beginning to make her way out of the Healing House with Gorath and Galain, but Jesslyn wouldn't let her get away with it that easily. Jesslyn sat bolt upright in her cot and stood to chase Laurel, Gorath, and Galain as she tried to ignore the painful and dizzy feeling that was swarming her head.

"Wait!" Jesslyn called to Laurel, her voice cracking and slightly high-pitched with congestion. Laurel whipped around at a speed that surprised Jesslyn into stepping back a few paces before the black-haired girl stopped and began to eye Laurel defiantly. "Why would you go without me to go and save my own brother?"

"I owe it to you...for not telling you about him to begin with. I realized my mistake, Lady Jesslyn, which is why Leena already knows about Thagon. Please, rest!" Laurel pleeded, though Jesslyn scoffed at the woman and her wounded leg. Laurel was in no better condition than Jesslyn was!

"You need to rest! Let someone else worry about their own problems for once and take a break!" Jesslyn retorted, though deep inside she felt a great respect for Laurel and her ability to handle responsibility. Laurel shook her head vigorously and limped quickly out of the Healing House to catch up with Gorath and Galain.

Cartil's life was in their hands...

[Taralphiel]

Laurel turned her back on Jesslyn, and tried to hide her limp as she headed for supplies. But Jesslyn did not relent. 'Why wont you listen to me??' she said in exasperation.

Laurel turned just to see the girl stumble, and almost fall. Laurel took a hold of her shoulders to keep her steady.

'Jesslyn. You are of no use out there. What would I do if they captured you too? I am going to right my wrongs. I will get your brother back, if it costs me my life. You need a brother, and he needs a sister. So I ask you to stay here'

Jesslyn seemed to have little to say ti her response. Laurel allready thought it was a hasty thing to say, and tried to cover the colour in her face. 'Please take care of Leena' she mumbled, and continued her way to the Supplies House.

There she found Gorath and Galain stocking up on arrows for their quivers, and loose armour. After taking and putting on what she needed, she turned to the two and said 'I thank you for doing this with me. I trust you skill. We will bring Jesslyn back her brother'

[maikafanawen]

“Lady Annanoldowen. Though the House would be ready to let you go I’m afraid we will be needing your assistance in another matter.” At these words both the ladies turned their questioning glances at Annunfuin. The late-morning sun shone high over the House and already made the air quiver. “How fast could you make a ride of about fifty miles?”

Annanoldowen looked questioningly at Annunfuin. “I don't think I quite followed you on that Sir." Annunfuin smiled enigmatically and proceeded to explain his idea to Annanoldowen and Taralphiel.

"I had just recalled the parchment of Cartil's from the King to Taralphiel. The Lady then informed me of what the parchment vaguely suggested. There is a company of five score men camped at the mouth of the Anduin, ready to lend their support to the Swan House's cause." Frustration welled up temporarily in Annanoldowen. What good were those men camping four days from here! Ai! The simplicity of man's mind! Annunfuin continued. "It's too long of a ride for the regular horse but perhaps yours could make it in half the time?" he asked hopefully. Annanoldowen nodded solemnly.

"One quarter the time," she said indifferently. "Shall I leave right away? What message would you like me to give?" she queried facing Taralphiel.

"Just that we greatly appreciate their service and will be earnestly awaiting their arrival." With every word Taralphiel let a short sigh releasing the hopelessness she had felt when it appeared as though the matter would not persist to be beneficial.

"Very sentimental my Lady," Annanoldowen replied dryly. She had been looking for some sort of military plan as to the course of action they should take immediately upon arrival. Apparently that decision would have to be made by herself. No matter, she'd handle it fine.

As she was turning to leave, the Swan Lady stood quickly and embraced Annanoldowen. "Thank you so much," she said in a motherly tone. Shocked at being hugged by a mortal—something that had never happened in the three thousand years she's lived amongst them—Annanoldowen hesitated, then held her back momentarily before stepping back.

"I have come to offer my service. Anything that I can do I do willingly." Bowing into her retreat, she bid the two farewell and went to search out Taurewaa. Whistling into the laurel woods surrounding the House, she waited only a moment before the white Mearas came galloping towards her, mane askew and tail whipping in the wind. Annanoldowen patted her horse's nose fondly before pulling herself up on its back. Situating herself so that it was comfortable with no saddle, she turned Taurewaa to face south (?). Then she whispered two words and the two were off, leaving the echo of Noro lim behind them.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It was late evening when she arrived where the soldiers were camped. She was pointed immediately to the captain's tent who welcomed her enthusiastically.

"I was getting very worried when no word came my Lady," he said with veneration. "I was told not to move unless given word to do so though. You understand." Annanoldowen nodded, brushing aside his pretexts.

"Well I'm here now with summons from Lady Taralphiel of Swan Wood. We need your army to help defend her House and Town. It is a two-day journey on foot from here to the woods," she said directly. "When can your troops be ready to move?"

"Give us twenty minutes," he said proudly.

"Let's make it ten," she said wryly. "Just to be safe." As much as it was against her nature to be brash with people, she recognized early that the only way to get anything done with men, especially soldiers, was to be straightforward and firm. If they respected you that was fine, but if they feared you, that was better. She wasn't sure how educated in elf-lore this Captain Dellick was, but if she was lucky, the old fairytales of magic would help weave the threads of reverence into his mind for the time being.

[ August 22, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey didn't know what to do at this moment. The girls were lost, the army resting, and Drass taking a much needed nap. She could go and try to help with the healers or feeders, but everwhere was so packed with people that she felt her presence would be more of a hinderance than anything.

Letting her feet take her around the town she simply patrolled once again. This time though, the Elf let her mind wander more than usuall, keeping her senses open to the land knowing it would warn her if trouble was upon her. Lanaey's mind didn't do much wandering though, it simply seemed to note things around her. A broken branch, a smoldered house fire, Laurel walking quickly toward a building.

Wait, what is Laurel doing?

Spinning back she saw Laurel heading toward a house used for supplies and rushed her steps to catch her leader. On the threshold of the house she found the dark brothers packing up their own supplies.

Laurel turned at her coming. "Cartil," was all she got out before Lanaey exclaimed, "I'm coming."

[ September 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel smiled lightly at Lanaey 'As you wish...friend' She took her sharpened sword and slid it into the hilt and headed out the door with the two Dark Elves following behind.

A nurse found them at that point, and took Laurel's hand. 'Milady, I think we've found another of your party...' Laurel followed her to where a man lay on a stretcher by the Sick House.

'Ilisit' Laurel said and went pale. It was not long before Herebrand was summoned out to see him.

'I...am truly sorry' Laurel mumbled, and with a reverent bow to the man, tuirned on her heel, and walked the way of the forest. Turning to Lanaey, sh mumbled 'Lets not let that happen to Cartil'

[maikafanawen]

Gita finished her exploration of the town in two good hours, recording in her mind just how many villagers were left. Since hardly any were warriors, the wild men had killed all but three score and she had seen merely a dozen children. The assault had been very successful and the last raid would dispatch of the remaining villagers. It was sweet victory that met her eyes as she continued her assessment.

She was moving just out of the shadows of one house when she saw Laurel and a few others making their way down the street. Her breath caught in her throat and she dived back under cover to wait as they passed. Gita watched with flaring contempt as the Swan Lady limped away. What she wouldn’t give to decapitate that pretty little head of hers with the concealed dagger gripped in her left hand. The impulse almost got the best of her but they turned into a house just as she left the shadows, a wicked grin on her face. She cursed under her breath and turned down the opposite way back towards the camp to report her findings to the king. It would be an easy triumph.

Her hopes were dashed as she made her way through the woods. Voices and footsteps ahead warned her of a decent mass of people making their way through the village. From her position behind a gorse bush she witnessed the remains of the Rohirrm army en route to the village and their captain. Some were wounded but there were still a good many able bodied men that would certainly prove a great threat to the wild men if appropriately assembled.

Things seemed to go from bad to worse as she continued on towards camp, Cuor hot on her trail.

[Kryssal]

Seeing Ilisit dead didn't have the same affect on Lanaey as it did the young maiden Laurel. Many had died and seeing one more just hardened the Elf's resolve a bit more.

As they left the dead man Laurel turned and spoke. "Lets not let that happen to Cartil."

Lanaey reached over and squeezed her leaders arm. "I don't plan to, do you?"

Laurel put up a weary smile, "Nay," she looked off at nothing specifically. "Get the rest of what's needed and you three meet me at the forests edge."

[Taralphiel]

Cuor continued throgh the Village, watching Gita's every move. He saw her react to Laurel's presence, and he knew his caution was well put. He would not let her out of her sight.

He watched Gita stand by the Sick House, but turned to see Laurel head out to the forest. 'Once she is on her own, she will be defenceless' he smiled 'Not much longer'

~*~

Taralphiel saw Annanoldowen off with a smile. Many obviously thought it was forced, that her mood was an act. But this smile was not put on.

She walked to her spot, at the edge of the House, on the cliffs very edge. She looked down at the tumbling waves, and out to the horizon. She felt the curtains lightly brush her back, and she felt like a graceful white bird. She felt she could fall and soar, above any limit. She let the cold breeze bite at her, but did not shudder. She knew she would stay here.

'Well husband, I kept my oath, my promise. You asked me that I would end my days here, where youu would watch over me. Now I will'

~*~

Rudhchamion stood not far behind Taralphiel, and heard what she said. He made no movement, said not a word. He had never met a human quite like her. Every time you thought you knew the workings of her mind, she surprised you. He mistook her stoic standing here at the House as pride, not wanting to leave what her, and her family, had worked so long on. He did not expect that she still had within her such a tender sentiment. He thought that the years, and her adventures when she had first met him, had made her hard, and logical.

He moved up beside her, and said. 'I am glad Eriador could count on you. I wish I had have had time to know him better'

Taralphiel turned and said 'He knew you well enough to know that when we needed you most, you would arrive, my friend'

~*~

Herebrand was summoned to where stretchers lay. He watched Laurel limp quickly in the other direction, and shook his head. She was putting too much strain on herself. He began to jog to catch up to her, when Ohtaredan called him back.

'Captain...it is...' Ohtaredan did not need to finish the sentance. Herebrand could not form words in his throat. 'Ilisit...dear Eru...' He turned to the nurse and said. 'Can we have him embalmed? He needs to return to his people. I will take him home when this is over'

Herebrand made his way slowly back to his horse. Ohtaredan followed and asked 'What are we to do now Captain?'

'We will make our troops ready as soon as possible. We will aid Laurel, and help her win this final battle. And we will take Ilisit home when we are done. Spread the word'

~*~

Laurel stepped lightly through the forest. She had sent Galain to fetch a horse to carry Cartil with. It was quieter for the rest of them to stay on foot. Laurel was the one that had to worry the most, three Elves made no sound in the undergrowth. She took in the smell of the forest in a heavy breath, and spared a dream of this forest being safe for little children to play in it like she had done.

Lanaey and Gorath flanked her on either side, and it was not long before Galain caught up. 'What is our plan?' asked Gorath. 'You know the camp, we get in and out in the quickest and quietest way possible' Laurel mumbled.

'That should not be a problem. The Kings tent is on this edge of the clearing, away from the noise of the soldiers. Catril is in a corner, almost out of sight' said Galain

Laurel smiled 'That is good news! Are we all ready?'

'Are you?' asked Gorath

'You do not need to worry about that' said Laurel

[ October 07, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Annanoldowen rode off an hour before the sun rose to noon. Annunfuin felt curiously relieved; as if half of the work had already been done. In the next moment, however, he came down to earth, realizing how absurd this thought was. They couldn’t rely solely on this new hope, they stood still on the very brim of destruction. There was a blank look on Annunfuin’s face as he walked across the yard to the stables. Shortly he bid the stable boy to make sure Fëadûr would be saddled three hours past mid-day. No reason to delay the departure any longer; all must be made ready by then. he mused while pacing briskly back to the House.

The air inside felt cool after the heat of the sun. Still, after the days he had already spent at the Swan House, Annunfuin felt lost at once as the walls circled him. I’ll be damned! How on earth will I ever manage all that needs to be done if I can’t even find my way from the back door to my own chamber? His frustration erupted in a flow of curses that luckily went unheard by the children of the House. In an attempt to put more weight to his words Annunfuin clenched his fist and slapped it against his right thigh.

He managed to hit himself right to the still fresh wound. The Gondorian winced and his face twisted with pain. But the sharp twinge flooding over him gave him a heavy reminder of why he didn’t know his way around the house: he had laid in bed for the better half of the time. “Better go back outside…” he grumbled to himself and straightened his back. But before he could take even one step a familiar voice addressed him from the left-hand corridor.

“Sir, may I help you?” Annunfuin recognised the maiden that had lead him and the three girls through the house just that same morning and a hint of smile rose to his lips as he spoke.

“Aye, indeed, Briana! I must get back to my room… But before that: could you take me to the study, or wherever the Lady Taralphiel keeps the maps of her realm?”

The girl gave Annunfuin a questioning eye but did not speak her reflections out loud. She has probably stood there longer than is desirable… Annunfuin thought and wondered if he should apologize his vulgar wording. But the maiden just nodded and beckoned him to follow, obviously advised to fulfil the guest’s every wish. They took to the left and disappeared into the shadowy passage.

* * * * * * *

Annunfuin sat on a bench in an embrasure and studied the scroll that lay unfolded in his lap. With his right index finger he once more traced the route from the Swan House across the Wood towards west; towards the cover that the hills would offer to the residents of the House. Finally his finger rested on a handful of round marks drawn to indicate small caverns the hunters from the house and village had used if the night had caught them too far from home. He tapped the spot a few times before raising his eyes from the map. They will be safe there he sighed. While glimpsing out from the window he marked that the sun’s ascent had ended; the day was beginning to grow old.

A creak of the door made Annunfuin turn from the sight of the sunny garden back towards to dimly lit study. The maid Briana stood in the door way.

“The elf Rudchamion is here, Sir, as you requested.”

“Well, let him in, let him in!” Annunfuin exclaimed, allowing himself to laugh inside at the girl’s odd ranking order: he would never have thought of letting an elf wait for his leave to enter a room. Outwards his expression changed only little as the dark elf entered the room and the two greeted each other courtly.

“With Lady Taralphiel’s consent I’m organising the evacuation of the Swan House.” Annunfuin began and pointed at the map that he had placed on a dark-wooden table. Rudchamion quickly took in the plan and nodded his approval. “I will need your help, friend. The road is long and rough – if there indeed is one – and we must get going as soon as possible. We are 50 strong, but with a vast number of wounded, or very young children.” Annunfuin’s eyes grew darker with the image of suffering faces teasing his mind. “First I thought of dividing us into two groups but now I see that won’t work… The stronger must carry those too weak to walk, though it’s a great strain to them. Would you take the lead? You are more used to the forests than I am. My place will be in the rear.”

Rudchamion needed no time to come up with an answer: “I will do all that I can to help you, Annunfuin.”

* * * * * * *

Before the third hour after noon had arrived the Swan House had become empty. Lady Taralphiel stood under the arched doorway and watched as her household bustled on the yard, ready to leave for their refuge. But many were reluctant to take the journey without their dear leader; murmurs rose while others tried to drown their sorrow in to the feverish preparations.

Annunfuin watched the Lady from the corner of his eye. He perceived the mask of graveness that veiled her inner feelings; the mask that was slowly cracking. Suddenly she raised her hand - and everything was silent.

“People of the House of the Swan” Taralphiel began, in a strangely low tone; “The Forest is your friend as you know; it will let you pass and it will hide your track. Fare in peace! I will wait for your return here…” She raised both her hands into a blessing, then turned and walked away. The silence remained.

Annunfuin stood still a moment, then gave a sign to Rudchamion to order the group forward. With the elf’s call stretchers were raised and soon the vanguard vanished from Annunfuin’s sight into the shades of the forest. He waited in the ground until the very last pair of the line limped under the laurel trees. Then, with an effort, he hauled himself to the saddle and let Fëadûr take the road after the others.

* * * * * * *

A soft twilight surrounded the slowly trudging group as it entered the forest. Once again Annunfuin felt like he had passed into a whole another world with different light, time, all. The birds in the trees… their chirrup was like humming. And the other animals, big and little; they were silent, it almost felt if they were watching that no harm came to the travellers. No-one spoke and the enchantment rested over them.

Fëadûr’s hooves made no sound as they met the mossy ground. But yet it was the riding that kept Annunfuin in close contact with the reality. Sitting in the saddle stretched his wound and made him grit his teeth harder with every move.

It was against his nature to give in but finally he had absolutely no other choice than to pull his stallion to a halt and dismount. While limping in the rear he truly felt like part of the hapless gang: tired and miserable.

The lashing twig caught him unguarded. But a sharp slap in the face was just what the Gondorian needed. Straighten up man! he told himself like to the young soldiers under his command; Things could be worse – and they still can turn that way unless you pay attention. Annunfuin adjusted his posture accordingly and peered over the odd line of bowed heads and stooped shoulders. While straining to catch a glimpse of the van and Rudchamion he suddenly found himself sneering. Admirable obedience! he remembered to commend himself.

But there was no time for sarcasm. The sun was still high but so was their way still long and their trudge slow – for the weary travellers the day was growing old. Annunfuin counted the hours by the golden rays that peeked through the boughs and leaves. Four hours before sunset. That isn’t much... The flash of dark grey eyes signalled resolution. But it’ll be enough.

Chased by haste Annunfuin picked up some speed and soon reached the last of the robed figures in front of him: a girl. A familiar girl.

“Hello…Rian, wasn’t it?” The girl raised her head in alarm but relaxed with seeing the old man’s friendly smile. Annunfuin couldn’t read any recognition in her empty eyes; only a weak nod answered in affirmative. He nodded back and for a while they walked side by side in silence.

“You look much better than the last time I saw you. I hope you’re feeling better too?” Annunfuin’s words were again answered with a barely noticeable motion of head. Undecided about how to continue a conversation that alarmingly began to resemble a monologue Annunfuin rested his left hand on his sword hilt while his right slowly ran through Fëadûr’s black mane.

A voice not much louder than the sound of wind circling in the bushes gently pulled the Gondorian’s wandering mind back to present.

“Hmh, sorry?”

“He’s beautiful.” The voice was now clearly audible though still a bit thick due to lack of use in the past few days.

“He is, isn’t he? And guess what?” With coloured graveness in his tone Annunfuin cast a bait – and the girl took it. As the ‘what’ formed on Rian’s face he gave her the bridle, stepped aside and grinned broadly; “He knows that himself too!” Fëadûr whinnied softly at this and chafed his muzzle against the girl’s shoulder.

Annunfuin walked slowly forward and breathed a silent ‘thank you’ into the wind. For without turning, without looking he knew it, he felt it: Rian was smiling.

[ October 04, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey hadn't really been inside of this part forest yet, so she kept slightly behind the others. Letting them lead she took up the job of watching out for intruders from behind. Every hundred paces or so the female Elf thought for a moment that she had heard something out of place with the natural forest, but being unfamiliar with the land and not knowing if it truly was just a creature she ignored it.

At one point she whispered her misgivings in Laurel's ear and then stepped out of the path to try and see if there was someone out there. Her search had proved fruitless and she returned shortly. The paths along the floor had been much too muddled by passing wild men going to and from the village battle and the only noises that now seeped into Lanaey's ears were those of the regular night critters.

None too soon Gorath raised his hand and caused them all to halt and gather around him.

"The encampment is just ahead, about forty paces," he spoke in the barest of whispers.

Laurel nodded and then whispered back, "I want one of you to go in with me to help with Cartil and the other to stay outside the tent with Lanaey as lookout."

The brothers looked at each other, then Gorath looked back. "I will go in with you, Lady Laurel; Galain can take post with Lanaey."

Laurel and Gorath turned to each other just as Lanaey turned toward Galain to further cement their cover plans. He seemed along the same track of mind.

"One of us should watch from the trees that are behind the tent and keep the horse underneath."

Lanaey nodded and finished the plan, "And the other at the corner of the tent facing most of the rest of the camp."

The dark Elf just stared at her, making it known that the decision was up to her. Thinking for just a moment, Lanaey finally came to a conclusion.

"I'll take to the trees."

[Taralphiel]

Laurel slid against the side of the tent and made sure to make no sound. She watched as Gorath pushed at a small cut tent flap, and motioned her inside.

It was a dark antechamber of the main tent of the King. Kegs of beer, and balnkets and extra supplies lay about haphazardly, and the reek from the Kings rooms filtered through. Laurel tried not to have a weak stomach, and her nerves helped this.

Cartil lay in the very corner, his arms above his head and tied to the roof beam. Gorath looked at them with little expression, and began to cut at them.

Laurel knelt by the man, and lightly shook him. He jerked back, as if expecting a great blow. She murmured softly to him and pressed a waterskin to his lips.

'Say nothing, we are here to take you back' she said in the smallest whisper. She heard sounds of pipes and cheers from the other room. Cartil slumped forward as Gorath let the rope down, and Laurel began to prompt him to his feet. Straining on her own leg, she managed to get him to stand. She was about out of the flap when there was movemnt towards the antechamber. Gorath hurried her out, and closed their escape.

The two took the weight of the semi concious man evenly and began towards the trees together.

'We must hurry, it will not take them long to discover what has happened' Laurel bit her lip and quickened her pace.

When they reached the trees, Galain took Cartils shoulder and she slipped from under him with a grunt of pain. Looking up at Lanaey, she said 'We must hurry!!'

[Kryssal]

Lanaey kept her eyes around the edges of the tent and didn't try to see what was happening within. So far, none had been alerted to the rescue mission and the Elf would prefer to keep it that way.

Galain kept vigil at the tent edge, crouching in such a way as to look part of the bush he was beside.

Faster than Lanaey expected Laurel and Gorath were exiting the tent and approaching the hidden horse. Galain quickly took the heavy man from Laurel's shoulders and helped his brother hoist Cartil onto the horse.

"We must hurry!!" Laurel hissed up into the trees.

Lanaey motioned for them to go on, keeping watch of the camp. Laurel looked as if she was going to argue with the tree-squating Elf, but looking over at the retreating backs of the other three she decided to follow.

"Do not dwell here long," she whispered before disappearing in the forest herself.

Lanaey stayed in the trees until all sounds of their flight were lost from her fine-tuned ears. Glancing down first, the Elf fell lightly to the ground with a wince.

Right as she turned to leave shouts rang out from the tent and someone cursed. Not waiting any longer she sped from the camp.

~*~

Leena had cried. She really hadn't meant to, but Thagon had meant more to her than she would have ever admitted to herself. She knew that right now she should probably get some sleep or at least rest, but her body and mind didn't agree on what she wanted to do. So, she ended up walking around the house looking into rooms. When ever she saw someone sleeping or being helped by another the priestess simply left to continue her useless wondering.

After near a half hour of this she came to a room that housed someone she knew. It was the young warrior Jesslyn and she looked pale and nervous, but the girl was doing her best to stay put.

When Leena first walked in Jess didn't notice her, but as Leena turned to leave the young madain turned and hailed her.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn ran from her cot, suddenly glad that she had not taken a leg wound as Laurel had. Jogging up to Leena as the other woman began to leave, Jesslyn placed a hand on her shoulder gently. The girl turned around quickly, fatigue and worry lining her face. The empathy and sorrow for Leena came back afresh in Jesslyn’s mind, for Jesslyn recognized the feeling of pain and loss that Leena had.

“I’m so sorry about Thagon. It probably isn’t any consolation, but he was very brave and worthy of great remembrance and praise. He was a good man, I know what he meant to you,” Jesslyn murmured, voice slightly shaky as another wave of dizziness overcame her momentarily. Leena nodded, and let a hint of a smile show on her face before shaking her head as if to clear her mind.

“Thank you, Jesslyn. I miss him. He was a good man, he won’t be forgotten, I assure you. We were so close…” Leena replied, letting a tear escape her eye and roll down her cheek. She wiped her cheek and smiled once. “I won’t forget him.”

“Good,” Jesslyn smiled for the first time since before the battle for Alphirion.


Cartil’s already sore and torn muscles began to ache with renewed vigor as the horse trotted along through the woods as they fled. Cartil had begun to lose hope in rescue, lose hope in ever seeing Laurel or Jesslyn or his family again. He had wrongly doubted Laurel and her motivation that no one be left behinds. Though slightly embarrassed, Cartil was eternally grateful for Laurel, Lanaey, Goroth, and Galain’s rescue.

Laurel sprinted along at a slight limp as they ran away from the Wild Men’s camp. The shouts from the camp that had once been a prominent noise in the background had faded to a low groan in the woodlands of the Swan. Cartil began to wonder how Alphirion had fared, and how Taralphiel and the others at the House had done. He decided it would be the first thing he asked when he got back to Alphirion with Laurel.

The group soon made it to the edge of the woods and the outskirts of Alphirion. Laurel led everyone to a house that was apparently being used to house the sickly or wounded. Apparently Alphirion had not fared well under the Wild Men’s attack. Laurel and Goroth helped carry the disillusioned Cartil to the nearest empty cot, which was slightly bloodied, but Cartil was in no position to choose where he was laid. Goroth left to go see if Lanaey had made it safely, while Laurel stayed next to Cartil and called a healer.

“Thank you, Laurel. Thank you so much. For a long while I didn’t think I’d ever see you or Jesslyn or anyone again. I thought I’d die a horrid death, either rotting in a smelly tent or at the hands of an even smellier Wild Man,” Cartil croaked, and Laurel chuckled. “Thank you. What has happened while I was gone? What about Jesslyn? Has she…has anyone…what about…”

“Jesslyn’s fine! Just worrying incessantly about you. You gave her quite a scare, Cartil!” Laurel replied, smiling grimly. Cartil was so glad to see her! Laurel continued, her face suddenly sad. “We lost Thagon.”

“He will be remembered,” Cartil replied, voice sure and firm. Poor Leena, he thought. Laurel nodded, and took her leave. She looked fatigued and sorrowful as she went off to do more important work, and Cartil wished he couild to more to thank her as a healer came to look at him.

[ September 05, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[The Ruling Ring]

Ilisit...Ilisit...

Ohtaredan's brow knitted tight and his lips pressed together tighter as he ran forward, passing people carried on stretchers, looking for Herebrand. Where was his captain? He needed him now...again...

He found him, following along the line, his eyes on the girl Laurel, who was straining to carry her load of weapons and medical paraphernalia. His pace suddenly quickened. Ohtaredan stopped moving.

"H-Herebrand!" he called, waving his hand lifelessly for his captain to come back.

Herebrand turned and his face metamorphosed into pure dread as he took in Ohtaredan's face.

"It is," Ohtaredan began, but it was clear that Herebrand already knew what he meant. The exchange that followed was one of the most heartwrenching things Ohtaredam had ever participated in.

*****

"Spread the word."

His captain's instructions still jostled about in his head.

They were going for the last stand, the last fight! They would defend the people as they had promised, to the death of themselves, if needs be! Ilisit would not have died in vain, nor any of the others. Ohtaredan's pace quickened, with anticipation this time.

[ September 10, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel moved out of Cartil's Room and headed for her grandfathers room. She had not seen him in a long while.

She sat be his bed as he slept. She smiled at his peaceful expression. Her grandmother Rivwyn sat beside her and squeezed her shoulder gently.

'You look about to collapse my dear! Go and sleep!' she fretted, and inspected the cuts on her face and her dirtied bandage. Laurel didnt change her expression.

'I suppose I should. I think Ill stay here a little while longer. Will he wake up any time soon?'

The old man began to stir 'Ha...I knew I heard your voice granddaughter!' he croaked. He looked at her and frowned 'Rivwyn my love. Take her to the healers. She is exhausted. She needs somewhere to sleep'

Rivwyn slowly helped her to her feet, and Laurel didnt speak a word, but smiled and nodded at her grandfather.

She lead Laurel back to Cartil's room, and lead her to a cot at the far end. The Healer was still attending to Cartil. Lying down, she felt the pain in her leg come back with a steady flow, but she was too tired to make a sound. She heard her grandmothers voice as she walked beside the Healer, but it was muffled and strange.

Laurel closed her eyes and relaxed into the dirtied fabric of the cot, and hoped she would not have to wake up for a long while.

[Kryssal]

Jesslyn was a sweet girl, but she also had a lot of fire in her. Leena hoped that her brother was faring well. The priestess would hate for the young maiden to have to suffer the loss of someone so close.

Jess kept up a pretty constant set of chatter about random things, which suited Leena just fine, but several times a shadow would seem to pass behind Jess' eyes and the young girl would reflect for a moment before starting up another string of conversation.

All at once a healer rushed into the room startling the two ladies.

"Lady Jesslyn, I was sent to fetch you. You're brother's here."

At the beginning of the sentence Jess had looked worried, but at the end she gave a small whoop and quickly followed the healer out of the small room.

Leena smiled at the vanished girl and sat down on a bed to rest her feet and mind.

~*~

None of the wild men seemed to be following her specifically, though a few scouts had been sent out. Lanaey had heard them, but none came in her vision so she felt no compulsion to go and dispatch them.

As she neared the village Gorath came out of the trees on her right. He had been hiden till only a moment before, but Lanaey wasn't startled by his sudden appearance.

"It seems we got it off clean," Lanaey said to Gorath's backward glance.

He nodded but didn't say anything. Lanaey was fine with that and kept it till they had almost reached town when she spoke again.

"How's Cartil?" she didn't want to go in and disturb any reunions the fighter might be having. In fact, Lanaey didn't feel like really being with people at all for the moment.

"He'll live and fight again," Gorath glanced at Lanaey who nodded in reply.

The two mutually stopped near a house, still by themselves yet close enough if trouble started.

Lanaey didn't know if the dark Elf wanted to talk or if he was trying to decide on where to go next.

She spoke the first thing that came to her mind, wanting to talk for some reason that she didn't know of. "Where will you go when all this is through?"

He didn't look at her at first, but turned when he finally answered, "Home."

Lanaey didn't respond and they stood in silence for several more minutes bordering on a quarter of a hour.

"And you?" Gorath said.

Lanaey reflected for a moment before saying quietly, "I don't know."

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel watched the sea. She felt the sweet breeze move through the House. But she felt at a loss for her feeling of uneasiness. The House had been its emptiest in years. She felt the burden of history weigh upon her.

In her lap was an old care worn book. It was of the First Ages of Middle Earth, a gift from the Men of Gondor. She had used it to teach her children, and all children she met, of where they had come from. She had taught them of the first clans of Men, and of notable women, such as Haleth. She also taught them of Elendil and Isildur, and of the days when the world was not as it is. And then there was the history of the Elves, and the Dwarves, and all the other creatures of Middle Earth.

'Suddenly I dont feel so old' she said to herself and smiled. She ran her fingers over her worn chair, and hummed an old tune to herself.

'The hour is soon coming. They will prepare, and attack. It is in her hands. And I know she will do her best'


In all her musings she did not notice a small piece of paper lying stray on the floor. Thinking it must have fallen from somewhere, she opened the paper and her face fell.

'By Eru! I thought they had gone to the caves! They are out there on their own!'

Standing up, she moved quickly through the House, seeing if any maids were left. Fiona and Elena would be in great peril out in the woods on their own, and Taralphiel did not kknow how to help them, save travelling out herself.

'Eru guard them!' she fretted.

********************************************

Annunfuiniel's post

The refugees of the Swan House reached the foot of the hills in the grey light of early evening. Before them the sheer slopes rose to heights beyond eye's reach, casting shadows that shrouded the forest behind them into sad colourlessness. Annunfuin glanced up, smiling a small, almost triumphant smile; We made it!

* * * * * * *

A grey shadow stood in the opening of one of the largest caves and watched people stream in and out, faces lined with fatigue but freed from despair. For the first time in a long while the Gondorian felt relatively relieved; things seemed to be in better shape than he had dared to even hope for.

For starters the caves were dry, their floors mostly covered with soft sand instead of bare stone. In the light of flickering torches Annunfuin stepped into the cavern and took in every detail of the surroundings. In the middle of the floor he observed a shallow pit lined with round stones; already one of the old men of the company squatted there, setting a fire. Neat stacks of dry wood were placed against the cave's left wall; Enough for days, Annunfuin concluded contently. Finally, in the farthest corner of their refuge the soldier found a mow of clean, dry straw, perfect for simple mattresses to make the wounded's rest a little more comfortable.

During this short inspection the Gondorian's lips curved into a knowing smile; the Lady Taralphiel's hand reached far and her influence was clearly to be seen even in this place in the borders of her realm.

"Sir?" A sudden question interrupted Annunfuin's musings.

"What can I do for you, Briana?" he questioned back, delighted to hear the familiar voice, and turned around to meet the young maiden's glance. But the girl's grave expression made his smile fade and quickly turn into a frown. "Is there something wrong?" he continued, worry colouring his tone though he tried to hide it.

"Yes, I believe so. It's miss Rian... Her sisters are missing."

Annunfuin's brows knitted even closer together as he conceived what the maid was talking about. "That can't be; they must be here somewhere! The House was emptied - and no-one lacked behind on the way here." But even as Annunfuin spoke he saw the weakness of his own logic:

"Unless they left before the evacuation was ordered..." the Gondorian foolishly spoke his thoughts out loud. Upon hearing his words Briana blanched and her eyes grew round as she whispered, quivering: "Then they could be anywhere - and all alone!"

Annunfuin took the girl's trembling hand into his own and pressed it, first sternly, then reassuringly: "Not a word about this to Rian! Just tell her I went to get her sisters." The doubt he saw flash in Briana's eyes was the same that his heart felt - but firmly he pushed this sensation aside and stepped out of the cave, the girl following close behind.

"Have you seen the elf Rudchamion?" Annunfuin turned to question the maiden before she left to find Rian.

"Last time I saw him he was there," Briana gestured towards a bend in a narrow trail on their right; "In the first cave just around that corner."

* * * * * * *

Annunfuin found the dark elf in the cave, organising the first night watch. The refugees' only hope rested in staying hidden, yet they had to know what was going on outside. See, but stay unseen... the Gondorian reflected instinctively as he watched Rudchamion deliver orders to the guards. First shift took their leave: a grey, bent man, leaning heavily on a staff which seemed to be his only weapon, and a boy, who had seen no more than fifteen summers, trying to appear a stern man but fear behind his eyes. Annunfuin's eyes saw of their steps before turning to face the elf.


"Rudchamion, a word with you..." he began and gestured the elf to follow him into the open air. "I had planned on staying here for the night - just in case…" Annunfuin could feel Rudchamion's dark eyes on him and he sought them in the gathering darkness to meet their gaze.

"The plan has changed." The elf quoth solemnly after a moment of silence. Annunfuin nodded and went on to explain 'why'. Just minutes later the two mounted their steeds and began a wild race back towards the Swan House.

* * * * * * *

They flew across the forest, Rudchamion in the lead and Annunfuin following blindly behind, trusting wholly on Fëadûr's instincts. The Wood seemed to be on their side still; it opened in front of them, it let them pass. Yet darkness was all over them as they finally were back at the Swan House. And the House was nothing but a darker shade against the grey, starless sky. Lifeless, abandoned it seemed; not a single flame in a window welcomed the travellers. Annunfuin dismounted Fëadûr, suddenly thankful of the darkness that veiled his pained expression and obvious limp. He managed to the arched doorway and leaned heavily on the cold wall.

There was a soft, chinking sound - a sound so familiar in the soldier's ear that he didn't even realize hearing it before his own blade was drawn. Steel flashed in the darkness.

"Step in and die cursed." The voice was cold and hollow like... Death! Death has come for me! Mad fear nearly took the Gondorian. But his nature wouldn't give in; the soldier inside didn't let the sword fall, he didn’t step back.

"This you won't take from me!" The voice croaked again – but this time there were anger and despair filling the dread emptiness. And Annunfuin understood.

"Swan Lady! This is friend not foe!" He backed a step from under the arch's shadow into the yard; "Friend of Alphirion." And even as Annunfuin spoke the moon suddenly broke free from the hold of the clouds, bringing its light to testify to the man's words. Rudchamion was now also there, standing beside the Gondorian, sword drawn from its sheath but resting on his side.

"Friend…" Lady Taralphiel's whisper echoed from the darkness. The Swan Lady seemed to come to their sight like from under the surface of black waters; slowly she departed from the shadows, as if unwilling to leave their safety, and stopped in front of them. Finally believing her own eyes she lowered her sword and sighed with relief; "Thank gods!"

* * * * * * *

Swords were sheathed and Rudchamion lit torches to lighten the darkness that had yet again thickened as the moon slid back to its hide behind the clouds.

"But what are you doing here? I thought you meant to stay there over night," Taralphiel questioned Annunfuin as the three moved into the House. Annunfuin began to tell her about the missing girls but she soon interrupted him: "Yes, they have left…for the Village, for their home. Foolish girls!" Annunfuin glanced at her, though he knew without looking that her words held more worry than blame. "No use to take after them now; in this darkness you would just ride past them. They are not stupid," Taralphiel continued, contradicting her own previous words so that Annunfuin couldn't help but smile; "They will seek refuge, they will hide…and they will survive." Annunfuin's smile was gone.

"From the bottom of my heart I hope so…" he spoke, staring at the flickering flames of his torch. They walked through the passages, Lady Taralphiel leading her guest to his room. Rudchamion wished them good night and left for his chamber on his own.

"I will ride out with the sunrise." Annunfuin addressed Taralphiel as they arrived at his door. "Rudchamion has agreed to stay here; You will not be left alone again." Annunfuin paused, then coughed uneasily; "And I'm sorry we scared You like that…"

Taralphiel's face hardened with these words, her eyes narrowing as she recollected their encounter; and as she spoke her voice was strangely distant:

"I was not scared; I was ready." But then her features relaxed and her lips curved to a sad smile; "But yet it wasn't my time to go… Good night, my friend; and fair rest to thee."

"Good night, M'lady…" Annunfuin whispered and watched as she drew away from him, silently like a ghost.

[ November 11, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

A nurse walked into the room to find a young maid warrior fast asleep on the floor. After getting another helper the nurse was able to lift her up into the bed she was next to. Once all the sheets were in place the nurse left quietly and shut the door, leaving the prietess alone.

~*~

It had been awhile since Lanaey had last regained her strength through sleep. After saying farewell to Gorath she headed off to the smaller house. There she found one of her young watchers taking a break.

"Find the Lady Laurel and tell her that if she wants to find me I'll be here."

The teen nodded and eagerly headed out to complete his newest charge.

Lanaey soon found an empty pallat in the midst of many full ones in what used to be a large sitting room of the house. Not taking off any of her weapons the Elf laid down and was soon asleep.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel's eyes snapped open. She rubbed her face and shrugged off the hazy dreams. Her body had the dull ache that came with sleeping after walking and running for so long. But she knew she could be feeling worse. Feeling like Cartil. She saw her leg had been redressed, and wrapped much tighter. She sat up, and her leg felt much more comfortable, and she smiled wryly.

She dragged a crate by his bed and slwoly sat there. Jesslyn had fallen asleep beside him, with a peaceful smile on her face. Laurel wondered what it would be like to have a brother. She knew that if her parents were still with her, she would most likely have more than one sibling to talk to, and teach.

She saw Cartil move slightly, and watched him wake up...

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Not even the throbbing, pulsating pain running through his veins could keep Cartil from sleeping the minute his head hit the cot. Exhaust had overwhelmed him, and yet he slept restlessly in the cot next to Laurel. He did not wake when Jesslyn came running into the room to see him, but instead continued to fight for the rest that he needed. Cartil wanted to talk to Jess, but the practicality inside him ordered him to sleep. Cartil had been isolated from all of them for so long without knowing what had happened to any of them. He wanted to tell her all he had been through, how worried and scared he had been. Not just for himself, but for her, for Laurel, for Lanaey and Leena and Thagon and…

Jesslyn had come as soon as the nurse had called for her, and had wasted no time in getting to the room. She rushed in, slightly disappointed to see that Cartil was sleeping and she would not be able to wake him up, but still overjoyed to actually be seeing him. Not only was she able to see him again, she was able to see him alive again. Jesslyn would not wake him, of course, for he needed his rest. But she wanted to be there for him when he woke up.

Jesslyn found a stool in the main room of the Healing House, and placed it next to Cartil’s bedside. Soon Jesslyn was asleep too, her head resting on the edge of Cartil’s cot. She inwardly promised herself that she would wake when Cartil did, so that she could talk to him, but Jess rested so soundly that she didn’t even hear Laurel come back into the room with a makeshift stool of her own. Jesslyn was soon swallowed up in joyous dreams that subconsciously cast a contented smile across her face. Dreams of her, Cartil, and her other siblings at home, happy…she completely and temporarily forgot the darkness of the present and the danger that the Wild Men had caused.

~*~

When Cartil finally did wake from his restless sleep, he woke to the sight of Laurel, green eyes weary but alive all the same. Cartil smiled and tried to sit up, but couldn’t and opted to just look up at Laurel from his laying position. Jesslyn, he soon noticed, was sleeping in an awkward way with her arms on the edge of the cot to support her head. Cartil had believed Laurel when she had told him that Jess was alive, but he was relieved to actually see her.

“Feeling better?” Laurel asked kindly, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

“Much better, surprisingly,” Cartil replied, nodding, with a grim smile on his face. He tried to sit up again, and fought the dull pain that had formerly been so prominent. Cartil did feel a lot better, for the pain was not as acute as it had been, but had instead steadied to a fading ache that would pass. His wounds were many, but the nurse had done well with the bandages and Cartil felt numb to the sting. Turning back to Laurel, Cartil asked, “What will we do now? How will we stop the Wild Men?”

[ September 28, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

A chill breeze blew through the trees and Elena huddles closer into her cloak. Well, Fiona's brother's cloak really. It was grease stained and dirty, but for once Elena didn't care. The shadows were drwaing in now under the forest and she was suddenly glad to have Fiona's mother close by. The girls had managed fine on their own, but it was nice to have adults to do the looking after again.

It had been scary in the barn too, seeing dark shadows coming out of corners and from behind stacks of hay. It had been a huge relief when the shadows had turned into Fiona's mother, brothers and some neighbours. It seemed their fathers were helping to fight the wild men, and they had hidden in the barn for safety. Elena was worried about her father but she knew he was braver than any twenty wild men. He would be fine.

She knew that she would be fine now, too. The old man from the big house had appeared that morning with other people, to accompany them to a safe place. Not the big house, which was a shame, but caves. Elena had surprised herself by feeling slightly excited instead of anxious. She would far rather be at home- Fiona's home, she amended hastily- and clean and warm but this might not be too bad. For a little while. She sighed suddenly, it seemed that once again everything was changing. Maybe this time it would be a good change?

[Taralphiel]

Laurel was woken by Cartil's question.She had almost fallen asleep there, and her aching body still craved rest. “What will we do now? How will we stop the Wild Men?”

Laurel stared at the ceiling and let out a breath. Stretching lightly, she pulled her hair back behind her ears, then managed an answer 'I can see no other way than to face them. So that is what I plan. A messenger has told me that Annunfuin and Rudhchamion are arriving here soon.. They have taken the people of the Swan House to safety. I plan on those in the Village to follow today.'

She looked back at Cartil and said 'And then we prepare. All who have the strength to fight will do so. We can only pray that is enough'

'What do you think of our chances?' she said after a pause

~*~

Cuor had followed Gita about, making sure that she did not move near Laurel, and it was beginning to tire him. So he retreated back to the sick house grumbling.

'That woman is getting to used to acting like a mild houskeep. I could kill her in her sleep' he grinned as he moved towards the grimy window of the Sick House. His smile turned into a snarl.

She was in there, bandaged and battered, but alive. Her face seemed to have a slightly unfamiliar expression, and he saw why. She was sitting beside a man, who could barely sit up by himself. He was injured, but the way he addressed her made his blood boil.

'It cannot be...this cannot happen' he murmured.

'What, praytell good Elf, cannot happen hm?' came a lilted voice from behind him.

~*~

The last day had been a long one for Herebrand. His army had come back, but he had lost a dear friend, and a good soldier. He had not even been in Alphirion a season and it had changed him. Now he longed for home, and for peace.

He sat, sliding a stone gently along his blade, all these thoughts tumbling about in his head. He had addressed his army, with his second in command at his side. And he did not know if he believed his own words.

'We must fight on' he had said 'We have taken a blow, and many that we have once drawn swords with, are now gone. But we must see what they fell for. Alphirion and its people must be kept safe. And it is up to us to do this, for the glory of our people, and for theirs. We must help them fight'

This had mustered his troops a degree, and Ohtaredan seemed to be filled with a slight of vigour. 'Sir, shall we get our supplies together? See what it is we have left, and perhaps gather what we can with the people?'

'Yes, get every man a good share of armour and weapons. There will not be a lack of those I feel. And we must get them all rested. If I have read the Lady Laurel's intentions aright, we will need strength. I plan to find her now. All of us need to meet and plan the fate of the Village, and the last stand'

Ohtaredan nodded, and turned back to take a check on the troops, and what each had, but before he did, he said 'Sir, you have given us all a little more strength. Thankye'

[ October 07, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Galain looked at the sputtering Elf from behind his brother's back. They had come upon him unexpectedly and hadn't even taken out weapons yet. The younger brother didn't like the feel of this new Elf, he wasn't good in the heart or mind. He gave off a twisted aura that tried to bend the presences it touched. The evil Elf stood quickly and looked about almost spasmatically.

Galain whisked out his dagger just as the Elf turned and ran to the nearest part of the forest. As the younger brother started in pursuit Gorath put out his arm to stop him.

"He won't last long even with us following him, and Laurel needs to know about this. That one has many enemies," Gorath said, his eyes vainly following the out of sight quarry.

~*~

Lanaey had never woken so many times in one night. All the sudden and sporatic noises from the humans she slept amongst constantly kept her mind at alert. The aged Elf did manage to get enough sleep to last her for quite awhile, so she wasn't put out.

Something good had come of the morning so far, she had been able to do her first morning warm up in around a week. Being able to go into a mindless routine had a sense of peace to it. After the exercises Lanaey felt it prudent to bathe. It had been awhile since she had done that as well. She walked to the house she had slept in and asked a random villager where she could go to wash.

"Oh, that'd be the Bath House. It's by the forest, south side, close to the river that feeds it. You go in the west entrance, for women see?" said the kindly man.

"Thank you."

The old human waved his hand. "No, no, should be the other way around me thinks," he said with a wink as he edged off toward the food table.

Lanaey smiled as she headed out of the house and turned south.

~*~

Leena had let consciousness come back to her slowly. She didn't want to make her mind work; it'd come around in it's own time. Eventually she remembered everything, then she wondered how she had gotten into a bed.

It must had been one of the villagers. I'm glad, the position I was in would not have been kind on my back.

Stretching Leena scowled. It had been ages since she had last cleaned herself and she didn't like being gritty, grimy and above all sweaty. At least it gave her mind something menial to think about. Before she headed out she made sure the bed was tidy; it wouldn't do to show bad manners. There was a tiny bounce in her step as she walked out to inquire where she could clean up.

It turned out that this village had a bathing house, which would definetly help with things. River bathing was adequate, but a proper bath house is always better. The house turned out to be a wide, squat building with two doors, one distinctly for the men, which was the first door she came to. Walking around the building she found the correct entrance and was immediatly hit by the warm air. There was a main hall with several rooms on one side with tags saying "single," "small group," or "large group." There were two to three of the first two, then only one for the large room. The single rooms were occupied, and so was the first small group room. Leena managed to slip into the second available small group room. It was wonderful to slip into the clean water. The priestess started to immediately scrub herself vigorously anywhere she could reach.

~*~

Lanaey walked into the bath house and her nose automatically scrunched up until it could identify the new air.

The first several rooms seemed to be completely occupied, apartently the villagers loved to be clean. The second group room only had one person in there; not wanting to take up rooms from others Lanaey knocked on the door and called through asking if it was alright if she came in.

A sturdy "Yes" that seemed familiar came back through the door. Once she opened the door the Elf found out why the voice was familiar, it belonged to the recently returned Leena.

"Thank you for letting me share. I didn't want to take up another room," Lanaey explained as she undressed.

"I understand. There's plenty of water left. I changed it just a bit ago so it's mostly fresh."

Lanaey nodded and set about cleaning herself. Soon the two women were talking about the village, which changed to the wildmen, continuing on to deeper matters. Solace was found for both, even in matters they didn't think they needed comfort in.

~*~

"My, it's midday almost."

Leena snorted, "Well, I did turn into a prune in there."

At Lanaey's questioning glance the priestess help up her hand that showed her wrinkled finger tips. "They now look like prunes because of being in the water so long." At the Elf's incredulous look Leena burst out laughing which led to Lanaey first nodding her head in disbelief, then chuckling as the human's gail continued.

"Come on," the elf tried to put a stop to the continuous laughter. Lanaey's face just seemed to have been too much for Leena. "I want to talk to Laurel about what we're going to do now."

The eldar warrior managed to get the priestess to walk along, though her chuckles still brimmed with giggles at times. She seemed to have suppressed her outburst by the time they reached the main house. After asking a few of the people around they discovered that Laurel was sitting in the same chamber Cartil was being treated in.

Lanaey opened the door and walked right on in. She could hear a bit of their conversation through the door and so wasn't worried about waking the wounded diplomat.

Laurel had just spoken, "What do you think of our chances?"

"I think we'll manage and survive," Lanaey spoke as she walked in, completely startling the two humans. "Would you mind coming out and speaking with me for a moment?"

Laurel looked slightly puzzled as her gaze shifted between the man and Elf. "Yes," her edgy voice managed as she stood up. She smiled down at Cartil, "I'll be back later."

The soldier looked at her as she walked out with Lanaey and his eyes slightly clouded over.

~*~

Gorath looked into the window to see exactly what the strange Elf had been looking at. His demeaner seemed to darken a bit as he straightened and started to walk off to get to the front of the building.

Galain peeked through the window and saw Laurel leaving the room Cartil was bedded in. Jogging a few steps he quickly caught up to his older brother. They both met up with Laurel right as she came out of the building with Lanaey leading her and Leena trailing.

"We're going to discuss what's going to happen next, care to join us?" Lanaey barked out coming down the steps.

Gorath looked at Laurel, "That's fine, but I need to talk to you separately after."

Laurel simply nodded, knowing it would be explained in just a bit. She turned to Lanaey with her eyebrows raised, "Do you want to start?"

"Not particularly, you are the leader Laurel."

That response took the young human back a mental step. Lanaey was the one who brought this thing together, Laurel assumed she'd want to start it.

"Alright, here's what we have so far: a very weakened small army and us, basically. We saw their forces and they have quite a few nubmers on us. Any suggestions?" she looked around the small group each in turn.

Lanaey sighed inwardly. "We could run." The Elf knew that Laurel would never accept this course, but it had to be said. As the Elf maiden predicted, her leader looked shocked and said immediately "That is not an option!"

"Why don't we get everybody together for a meeting and pose options there. More heads, more ideas," Leena broke in.

Laurel nodded her assent, "That's a good idea. Let's have it tomorrow. I'll try to make sure everyone involved in decisions knows about it, but if you see someone you think should be there, don't hesitate to tell them either."

There were nods all around and Lanaey backed up a step. "That's fine. I think I'll go check on Drass," and with that short goodbye she left the group.

Leena nodded to the dark Elves and Laurel, then headed off without comment.

Laurel turned toward the brothers, "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil nudged his sleeping sister, trying to wake her up. She grumbled something under her breath and lifted her hand to wave Cartil away. Cartil grinned and gently shoved his sister off the edge of his cot, and Jesslyn fell to the ground with a loud thunk. She jolted awake, sitting bolt upright and glaring angrily at Cartil. The glare soon faded to a relieved grin, and Jess leaped forward to hug her brother.

"I'm so glad you're safe!" Jess murmured into his ear, though her voice was muffled by her own hair and the emotion in her voice. Cartil's grin spread to a wide smile, but he couldn't think of what to say to Jess. Soon, Cartil released himself from Jesslyn's embrace and grabbed her shoulders, and a serious look came over his face.

"Jess, I'll tell you what happened later, and you can tell me what you did later, but Laurel needs our help. I know we're only two people, but we can still help somehow," Cartil explained sadly to his sister, already predicting what she would say.

"But look at you! Look at me! You're half dead from starvation, and half dead from being beat by those Wild Men! Can you even stand? I know I can't without having my head start to spin! What good can we do?" Jess asked, instantly regretting her decision to argue with her brother that she had just been so happy to see alive moments before.

"We could..."

"We could what? We can't go get help, since we tried that and we brought back a weary half-army and it would take to long to find help. We can't do much personally, and not only are these Wild Men just plain stronger, they aren't as stupid as we thought they were!" Jess retorted, flailing her arms about to emphasize her point.

"Laurel's smart. All we have to do is listen to her, and we'll all think of something to outsmart the Wild Men..." Cartil suggested quietly, wishing suddenly that he had never mentioned the Wild Men or what they could do about them.

"You should rest," Jess pointed out, storming from the room and leaving the House. Outside she saw Laurel and the Elven brothers speaking, and since Jess didn't want to interrupt but she did want to speak with Laurel, she decided to wait for their meeting to finish.

[Taralphiel]

‘I think we’ll manage to survive’

Laurel jerked about to see Lanaey standing over her, looking rather urgently at her. By her fresh look, and fragrant smell, Laurel could tell she had found the BathHouse. She noted mentally that she should take a trip there herself. Seeing the Elf made her realise how tired and sore she was, and what a good soak would do.

‘Would you mind coming out and speaking with me for a moment?’ she asked her. Slowly standing, and looking at Cartil and the slumbering Jess, she said ‘I’ll be back later’

She was altogether taken aback when she left the Sick House to find Leena, Gorath and Galain standing waiting. All seemed very concerned, and Laurel did not blame them at all. But she was not expecting what was said to her. Gorath immediately stated he needed to speak separately with her, and this roused her curiosity. But she decided to deal with matters at hand first.

‘Do you want to start?’ she asked the Elf. The assessment was left to her. Stating it aloud seemed to further confirm her doubts. ‘Alright, here's what we have so far: a very weakened small army and us, basically. We saw their forces and they have quite a few numbers on us. Any suggestions?’ Lanaey was the first to say ‘We could run’ but Laurel did not let that thought pass any further through her mind. ‘That is not an option’ she started.

‘Why don't we get everybody together for a meeting and pose options there. More heads, more ideas’ said Leena suddenly. Laurel agreed with this thought, and set the time for tomorrow. ‘More time to think on what to do’ she said inwardly. As the Elf and the Gondorian woman left, she looked towards the brothers ‘Now, what did you want to talk to me about?’

Gorath did not mix his words at all ‘We came across an Elf, looking into that window, watching you and the boy Cartil. He was dangerous, both look and spirit. He means you and us all harm. He ran away before we could ask him any thing. We decided it better to tell you, than have after him’ he stopped for a moment ‘Do you know him?’

‘I do’ said Laurel quickly ‘His name is Cuor, and he is an evil creature’ Laurel thought on it for a moment.

‘Now I understand!’ she said, almost as an outburst that seemed to take the two back.

‘I will explain. He came to the Swan House, badly hurt, almost to Mandos said my grandmother. She cared for him and brought him back to health, but she regretted she did. She told me he was not a right sort. She warned me to stay away from him, not to talk to him. His words had evil workings…’ she paused, working her memory from fatigue.

‘There used to be guards set on watch about the House. That was when we could spare willing men. They found him, standing over my bed, saying odd things. They took him to my grandmother. She told him never to come back here, or suffer great pain. She told him she knew, I did not understand what she meant by it. He said she would not rule here forever. Then he was gone’

‘I think he meant that clearly. I think it possible that he has told the Wild Men where to find the House! I think that he has told them when we are the weakest, and continues to do so!’

‘Then we should not have let him go?’ asked Galain

‘No. He does not know we know his plans just yet. If we...if I find him...he will regret his actions. I will tell everyone at the meeting tomorrow of this. I thank you for telling me’ she said to the brothers. They nodded and were soon gone.

It was then that Laurel saw Jesslyn. She looked as tired and as worn as herself, but a smile was on her face. Laurel moved over and said. ‘You look as though you wish to talk Jess. And if you are as dirty and tired as I am, in need of a good bath as well. Shall we talk on the way?’

[Kryssal]

Drass was well rested and even ready for a short ride, which Lanaey provided. They rode around the town, checking on random things, not really looking for anything specific. At times they would ride fast, making the wind whip their hair back. At these times Lanaey might lean in toward Drass' neck so that they almost became one being in the ride.

After a time Lanaey brought Drass to a slow walk and finally a stop. They were at a house, burned and fallen. Unlivable. Nothing could directly be made out of the mess except some walls, a roof, and a bit of hearth. No people suffered in this house hopefully, but there was no guarantee.

Lanaey had started feeling more of a connection to this village, people and land. To see the house burned was as painful in her eyes as a small forest or lake being ruined beyond recognition.

The eld Elf quickly mounted and started back to Drass' temporary home.

~*~

"We could still track him. I doubt he went far," Gorath spoke as soon as they were out of Laurel's presence.

"No, I don't think he did; however, she only wants action if he shows again," Galain spoke of Laurel as he took out some dried meat and began chewing it, handing some to his younger brother.

"Laurel wants him."

Galain looked off toward the forest, squinting as if to see the hidden foe. "Yes."

~*~

Leena had almost forgotten about all the pain she had stored in her, but the hot tears flowed as soon as she was alone. At first she was shocked, then she remembered about Thagon. The priestess put her hands up to her face and silently shook in her grief.

After several minutes she straightened and wiped her face till all of the betraying tears were gone. Such loss of control would not do. Mentally she shut down the sadness and put it aside so that it could filter out.

Stretching a bit to get the blood flowing she headed out to find people to tell the meeting about, giving herself a task to focus on.

Soon, she approached someone she recognized from the journey to the village, but she couldn't remember the name that went with the face...

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jess smiled at the thought of a nice bath, to clean her wounds and the sweat of deadly hard work away. But nagging at the back of her mind were her sharp words towards Cartil. Jess turned and looked at Laurel as they walked, wondering how she should phrase her question.

"Laurel..." Jess began, and Laurel looked over at her, nodding patiently but wearily. Jess sighed and shook her head before continuing. "Laurel, I've got to go take care of something, and I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

Laurel furrowed her brow, a question in her eyes as she nodded and continued towards her destination. Jess ran off in the opposite direction, towards the entrance nearest her brother's cot and room. The inside of Alphirion's refuge was humid and smelled terribly of clotting blood, rotting limbs, and salty sweat. Jess almost got lost getting to her brother's room, her head beginning to spin again.

"I'msorry! Ididnotmeantoyellatyouandbesoharsh and," Jess spoke quickly, blending her words together and taking no breaths in between. It took her a while to notice that Cartil was not the only one in the room. Hunching over his bed was a healer, tending to and re-wrapping all of his wounds. Jesslyn blushed, and looked away, mumbling an apology to the young woman helping her brother.

The young healer soon finished tending to Cartil, and walked out smiling and nodding a goodbye to Jesslyn and her brother. When the woman was gone, Cartil grinned widely. The only thing that kept him from laughing was the pain and ache that would ensue if he did so. Jesslyn blushed again, and glared in mock anger at her brother as she walked over to him.

"I'm sorry," Jesslyn murmured slowly, collapsing into the seat next to Cartil's cot. Cartil blinked wearily, fighting to stay awake as he nodded in reply to his sister.

"I know, I know," Cartil replied, smiling as he tugged on one of his sister's locks of dirty black hair. He looked blankly at the doorway that led out of the room, and sighed. "But you should have a little faith in Laurel. We will make it through this. She got us this far, after all, didn't she? Now, go bathe or something, because you stink of dry blood and flesh!"

Jess laughed and left her brother once he fell asleep, leaving the room and heading for the room Laurel had been going before Jess had taken her leave. She found Laurel looking through cupboards for soaps and towels, to no avail as most of those items had been used on the sick and wounded.

"Laurel..."

"Yes?" Laurel turned, and sighed in some sort of slight relief when she saw Jesslyn.

"What are we going to do now, exactly? What can I do to help?" Jesslyn asked, eyes bright as she was ready to help.

[ November 06, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Taralphiel]

"What are we going to do now, exactly? What can I do to help?"

Laurel looked at Jesslyn, who looked a little out of breath. Laurel smiled at her and said 'Well, lets have a good soak and I can tell you after. I do not know about you, but my mind is very foggy at the moment'

Both found that there were few rooms left for bathing, and were left with the joint bath for bathing. Laurel slowly slipped into the deep hot water up to her throat, and felt her muscles and bones sigh with relief.

The water had been scented with what was left from the fields, and a refreshing smell of lavender hit her nose and cleared her mind.

'What will happen?' she thought to herself 'I now know how are enemy has a clear advantage, but what can I do about it?' She thought about the sickening dark Elf, and shuddered. 'He will be stopped' she thought as she tried to concentrate. Finally she got her words into a sensical string, and spoke up to Jesslyn, who looked like she was almost asleep in the soothing water.

'Jesslyn, I do understand why you feel the way you do. If I were in your boots, I would feel the same. You believe we cannot win...'

'But we have come up with a sort of plan. There will be a meeting tomorrow to decide it exactly. We have the remaining Rohirrim, and the Swan House is emptied, its occupants in a cave away from harm. I plan on making a last stand for our Village and home'

'Jesslyn, I ask for your help. I ask for your brothers help as well. You have great courage, and that is what we need now'

Laurel stopped and leant her head back against the side of the bath, and waited to a word from her companion.

[maikafanawen]

The Gondorian army rode on hoping to reach the village by dusk the next day, Eru-Willing.

* * *

Gita, dressed in a simple peasant chemise and over-laying skirt, worked her way around the assembled beds and cots littered in the Alphirion refuge with the village's wounded. She made busy with her hands crushing things given to her by the medics and dabbing foreheads with semi-sterile cloths. All the while her ears were open for any sign of militia movement or planning. Laurel was stirring around busily, speaking with people and sending them out again. Her face showed signs of anxiety and fatigue. Gita grinned, "Good."

Then the Swan Lady's granddaughter disappeared into a smaller room with Jesslyn, the prisoner's brother. Or rather, the prisoner who was retrieved. The king hadn't been too pleased with that. Gita smiled crudely as she rung out a linen sheet to hang out a window for drying. The wrath bestowed upon the guards who'd allowed Cartil's escape was truly barbarous and it had been quite a splendor to behold. The king sure had talent in the areas of torture and death.

"Excuse me, Iris?" said a young girl, no more than ten years old. Gita turned at the mention of her pseudonym, wiping away her smirk and looked passively down at the round pale face before her. "Yes dear?" The girl smiled. "I was wondering if you'd seen the Lady Laurel. She was going to bathe I think and I was bringing her fresh drying linens since we haven't any towels." Gita's eyes brightened at the opportunity and she smiled encouragingly at the little girl.

"Oh, I'll take them to her. You stay here and mind these sheets." The girl handed her the wicker basket of linens and began to hang up the remaining sheets. Gita ducked under the low-lying beams of the door and down the small hall to the bathing room. She knocked meekly on one of the doors, smoothed out a fold in her skirt, and pulled the hem of her cap down over her head a bit further to shade her eyes.

"I think it's open!" said Laurel's soft voice from within. Gita pushed the door ajar and smiled at the two ladies. "Fresh linens," she announced. "I'll put them over here." After setting them on the stool by the tub, she looked around for a reason to delay. Her eyes brightened with an idea. "May I take your clothes for washing and fetch you new ones? These are awfully soiled." The one called Jesslyn began to hesitate but Laurel gave her a soothing look.

"Yes, go ahead Iris." Gita smiled and began to gather up the clothes laboriously, folding them and placing them in the empty linens basket. She took as long as she could, but the two women just soaked silently, eyes closed in relaxation. Containing her disappointment, the amber-haired woman stood and left, but paused outside the door for a moment. Directing her hearing within, she waited for some sign that Laurel and Jesslyn were going to talk. Finally the former spoke.

"Jesslyn, I do understand why you feel the way you do. If I were in your boots, I would feel the same. You believe we cannot win...

"But we have come up with a sort of plan. There will be a meeting tomorrow to decide it exactly. We have the remaining Rohirrim, and the Swan House is emptied, its occupants in a cave away from harm. I plan on making a last stand for our Village and home.

"Jesslyn, I ask for your help. I ask for your brother's help as well. You have great courage, and that is what we need now." Gita bit her lip, straining to hear more.

"Iris?" The wild woman cursed under her breath and crept away from the door, silent as a wraith. Once she was out of ear shot, she steadied her quick and sprightly pace, reaching the medic with a questioned look. "Have you finished with the sheets?"

"I let Rachel take care of them. I brought towels, or, drying linens to Laurel and Jesslyn, and then I got their dirty clothes. Where might I wash these and get them new ones?" she asked. The medic directed her to a laundry party just out the far door.

A few minutes later, Gita returned with fresh clothes and went to set them in the bath room for Jesslyn and Laurel to change into when they'd finished washing. Then she was called off again for more tasks. The woman did these without any sign of complaint. It gave her time to think and strategize. She needed to know more about the meeting: when, where and who. It could be the key to Swan Wood's downfall. That thought brought a particularly nasty smile to her deep red lips and she crushed the flower stems vigorously, imagining the reward she'd get for delivering such precious information.

So busy with the idea of winning the king's merit and betraying the people of Swan Wood, Gita even forgot that somewhere nearby in the woods, just beyond the refuge, an elf with a heart full of hate for her lurked, waiting for the moment when he might catch a glimpse of her alone. His knife would be ready....

The sun had seemed as though it would never set on that arduous day of work and caring of the wounded. Extra cots and blankets (what little there was left) were brought out for the use of medics and their volunteers. Gita took her own and set it up in the large far room just beyond the baths where the majority of other female volunteers were lodged. She lay awake for a while, grasping onto the façade of an anxious villager, dreading the sleepless night when wild men might come again....

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Of course I'll do anything you ask of me if it involves ending these battles and having peace again," Jesslyn murmured her reply, meaning every word. Of course everyone involved with the Swan Wood skirmishes wished for it to end quickly and with as little troubles as possible. So far, they had encountered far more problems than they could almost deal with, but everyone prayed for the end to be near at hand.

Jess let the conversation rest there, and both the women soaked, enjoying the water for as long as it was warm. Jess contemplated what exactly everyone loyal to Laurel would do next, but set those thoughts aside for more conforting memories. Jesslyn recalled her home and her family, and fear seemed so far away at that moment that Jesslyn had no doubt of returning home safely, with Cartil alive to return to his duties. It will all be over soon, Jesslyn promised herself, not quite caring if it would turn out to be true or false.

Jesslyn finished washing and dryed off with the towels provided by the woman who had come in earlier. She donned the clothing, which was far too loose for Jesslyn but were clean all the same. Jesslyn said farewell to Laurel, promising the tired young woman that she would tell Cartil of the meeting. With that, Jesslyn left the bathroom and walked out into the main hall of the Healing House, looking around for the room she had once found Cartil in.

As she walked around the main hall, Jesslyn tried to ignore the wounded and dying around her. Most who had come to the Healing House with fatal wounds the day before were lost, and had been removed from their cots for a proper burial when there was time. The weak and wounded still rested on their cots, sleeping or silently praying. And then there were the rare few who had been fatally wounded but still struggled to keep a hold on their life. Some still fought to stay in the living world, either for fear of death or for fear of leaving someone or something behind.

That could've been you, something spoke to her, nagging at the back of her weary mind. Jesslyn shook her head, but the thought continued to race through her brain. Or Cartil. Or Laurel. Or Leena. Or... Jesslyn shook her head one las time and let the horrid voice slip away. Then Jess continued on her way towards Cartil's cot.

"My, my, my," Cartil murmured as his sister drew near. The messenger man made an audible sniffing noise with a dramatic air. "Don't you smell pretty as a rose now. Now all you need to do is go back home, brush your hair, put on one of your sister's dresses, and find some little boy to run off with."

Jesslyn laughed. "No boy would come after me. Even if I were wearing a dress and had my hair untangled. You know that, Cartil."

"Well, I didn't mean someone chasing after you. I meant you chasing one of the little boys back in town. Anyway, what is on your mind now, little sister?" Cartil questioned, seeing the look in his sister's eye and recognizing it immediately. Jess sighed and crouched down next to Cartil's cot.

What should I tell him? Jesslyn wondered. Should I tell him how I keep picturing all of us dead? How I wish and hope and almost imagine us going home and back to our duties fine, but knowing that it's not true? We're all going to die, I know it! Jesslyn wanted to slap herself for thinking the former thought, but could she deny her conscience, and the feeling?

"Ahh, well," Jesslyn stuttered, making her decision of what to say just as she opened her mouth to speak. "There will be a meeting tomorrow. Laurel will be there, and with her we will decide what our fate and the fate of Swan Wood will be. Can you bring up the strength to make it tomorrow?"

"Anything for Laurel," Cartil agreed, rearranging his head on the pillow he had been recently given. Jess was inwardly relieved to note that Cartil had no idea of her battling feelings, or, at least he didn't say if he noticed. Jesslyn nodded gravely.

"Good, now get some rest so you can come!" Jesslyn ordered in mock seriousness before walking off to perhaps help any of the healers, or occupy herself somehow. Jesslyn hoped such tasks would take her mind of the looming whispers that lingered and floated through her mind.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel closed her eyes, comforted by Jesslyn's response. Letting the water soothe her wounded leg a little longer, she eventually reached for the linens to dry herself, and noticed Jess was gone. Smiling a little, she dried herself and slipped into clean clothes, running her fingers through her hair tiredly.

'We have loyal people. We have people who will fight to the very end. We cannot lose this battle now, too much rests on us winning' Her minds was worn with these thoughts. She had lost count of how many times she had fallen asleep trying to reassure herself of this fact. But the day would soon be at hand that it would be over...

~*~

Cuor heaved his way through the forest. It took him a good while to calm his fear at being exposed, and by his own kind no less.

He thought of the two dark Elves, their voices filled with hatred.

'No, they are not my kin anymore. I have no kin' he stuttered. In all the dark holes and tortures of his life, that was the fact that remained. He belonged nowhere. And ow the only light, the only happiness he once clearly saw, was fading from him.

Slumping by a tree, he processed what had happened, and what his course for action was to be.

'I cannot go back to the King...I will not! Gita is still his lackey, she will tell him all he needs to know. With that prisoner escaped, I do not want to set foot near there!'

'So where shall I go?' he said, turning his gaze back to the Village.

'Now is the time' he said, and set his footsteps back the way he came...

~*~

'A meeting tomorrow you say' said Herebrand. Sitting on a carton by the camp of his troops, Herebrand stretched and let out a yawn. 'I am glad to hear that, I was beginning to get a little bored!'

The soldiers had begun a training regiment, and scoured the Village for any sort of supplies they could find. Slowly their armourment was gathering, and preparations were being made to house all the Villagers safely away. Groups were making their way to caves where no harm could be done to them.

Herebrand stood and grinned. 'This is the hour my friend!' he said and clapped a hand on Ohtaredan's shoulder 'Now we show all the peace they have craved for so long!'

[Kryssal]

Leena had slept fitfully through the night and now her back was knotted. First thing she did upon waking was to go in search of the three Rohirrim soldiers who had helped her in moving the army. She hadn't gotten to them yesterday and felt they should be included. After a second thought she went to Herebrand. He was their leader after all.

"Yes?" he looked up as she marched right up to him, interrupting his small breakfast.

"Beil, Mohinder and Dreven, have you invited them to the meeting?" she stood with power and authority even to the leader of an army. Herebrand eyed her critically; she seemed to be taking some liberties.

"They were going to stay with the men for the duration," the captain leaned back a bit, settling into a more comfortable position to converse.

"They would be beneficial. I request their presence to be in the main participants," she suddenly turned into the cautious diplomat.

Herebrand kept the eye contact that the priestess had established. "I will take it under advisement."

Leena bristled the slightest amount, yet nodded and walked away briskly. He was their commander and ultimately it was his choice.

~*~

Leena walked slowly to the central part of town where the meeting was to be held. After doing all her morning exercises and eating she had taken another bath. She knew even now she was early for the meeting, yet she wanted to watch everyone as they came to make her own assesments of those attending. She rounded a building and was slightly suprised to see Lanaey already there, sitting on a recently fallen tree. They acknowledged each other and Leena moved to sit next to the aged Elf.

"Didn't sleep much last night?" Lanaey asked, looking sideways at the new arrival.

Leena raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"

Lanaey shrugged and turned to watch a cat chase a mouse that had happened to come out for some food.

Leena closed her eyes, then opened them to find the Elf looking at her again. "Do you think the village has a chance?" Personally, Leena didn't. She still wanted to fight them though; she'd kill as many of those bastards as she could.

"There's always a chance..." Lanaey spoke as if she wanted to believe that, but couldn't quite make it true.

"Why do you fight for them?" Leena was being very forward again, trying to get some answers that they had sidestepped the day before.

Sighing, she spoke quietly. "This whole village has become very important to me. The land and these people." she paused. "Besides, I came to help and gave my word to Laurel long ago. At the first meeting."

Lanaey didn't need to ask why Leena kept fighting. Besides her orders or alterior motives for her order, she simply wanted to get revenge for her lost partner. It showed in the priestess' very being.

Soon others began to arrive.

[Taralphiel]

Elena

"They'll all be alright" Elena said quietly, half to herself. She thought it had perhaps been the hundredth time that day she had said it, or Fiona had said it. Elena hoped that if they said it enough it would be true and her Papa and Fiona's family would be well.

Really she felt a weight in her middle, a sort of knot of fear which tried to tell her that they wouldn't be alright. From snatches of conversation she had overheard from men who came in to talk she knew that men from the village were fighting the bandits- Fiona had looked proud at that, her Papa fighting, but Elena was scared- and a lot of the village was destroyed and people were probably killed. When they saw that little girls the men didn't talk about such things, but Elena thought it might be true anyway. They WILL be well, she told herself silently. It did help.

The people from the Swan House were also at the caves with them, although not the nice lady. Annunfuin had visited them and talked to Fiona for hours. Elena liked him, but he was a bit scary and fierce. he seemed very glad to see that they were alright, and told them that the people in the house had been worried when they left. Elena was quite proud that she didn't start crying from guilt.

One of the maids liked to brush and wash Elena's hair, and Elena liked her to do it but she didn't want Fiona to think that she had gone completely back to the old Elena so she was trying really hard not to start crying. It was really hard though.

"They will be alright" she said out loud again, fiercely, and Fiona took her hand.


~*~*~*

Taralphiel welcomed the new day slowly. She stood by the cliffs edge and watched the sea. She wondered at how she had fit into daily rituals and traditions in such a way. She would never have thought herself that sort of person. At least not until she had her first great adventure...

'I can tell you are remembering' came a slow voice from behind

'You could always tell what I was doing Rudhchamion! It irked me sometimes, but for the most part I was grateful' she smiled at him, before pausing for a moment.

'Do you ever think of them, Dark Elf? Of our companions?'

He didnt say a word, simply stood by her and listened.

'I miss Lady Anarya, and Khelek. You three were the first real companions I had ever had. It sounds very foolish to say, but it is true'

'You didnt need companions Lady. You would have gone to Dol Goldur and back without us, such is your stubborn nature'

'Is that a fact? No, I would have been no better off than Eriador if I had not fallen into your way all those years ago. And look what it has brought me? A world of joy, and sorrow'

Taralphiel turned to Rudhchamion 'I know you can see into the hearts of Men and their simple desires. What do you believe my granddaughter will do?'

Rudhchamion did not face her, but said 'I believe you know what she will do. I believe she will fight and win. Win, or die'

At that moment, a messenger ran in hastily and mumbled a message to Taralphiel which spread a grin on her tired face.

'Annunfuin has found the children, and they are safe. And as I expected, he is heading in to assist Laurel'

Rudhchamion showed something close to a smile and said 'All seems to be looking a lot less grim'

~*~

Laurel moved forward through the town square, past the Rohirrim and all the Villagers and soldiers remaining. The meeting had been called here, to decide what was to be the last stand of Alphirion.

'I thank you all for attending. I am here to ask of you your opinions. Our situation is bleak. We have been weakened, and the Village has been decamated.'

'But I will not give up. I propose a last stand. I propose a final offensive! We have a small army, and I believe we are capable of taking the armies of the Wild Men by surprise!'

Murmuring went through the Villagers and the army alike. But Laurel soundly continued.

'I ask you now for aid. I ask you to offer your strength now, for this last stand. Villagers, you must evactuate, and move to the caves prepared. But I ask all who wish to fight for the last time to offer their arms'...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:03 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Leena wasn't going to wait to see if anyone would stand beside Laurel; she was just going to charge up there and scold anyone who didn't do the same, until Lanaey put a restraining hand on her arm. Leena glanced sharply at the Elf and almost tore her arm away until she met eyes. Lanaey slightly shook her head and indicated she should sit back down.

"It would be better for them to decide for themselves. See how Herebrand is waiting? He wants his men to be eager," Lanaey looked over in the direction of the Rohirrim army.

Indeed, Herebrand simply stood there watching Laurel who was slowly moving her gaze over those assembled. Leena couldn't understand it; they should show their immediate support. It didn't take very long for the soldiers who were gathered to start shifting. Four men seemed to be moving around them quickly, soon they went forward and each took a turn at speaking in their Captain's ear. As each took their turn, stepping out of the others, Leena could make out they were the three she had wanted to come along joined by Ohtaredan. She sat up straighter as Herebrand nodded and stepped forward.

"Me and this patrol," Herebrand's voice rang through the small area, "will fight with you for victory."

All of the soldiers raised their arms and shouts to show their support of the decision.

Now Lanaey rose, bringing Leena up with her. As they walked up toward Laurel they were joined by a slightly flushed Jesslyn. The soldiers stopped cheering so they could hear the renewed pledges of the warrior women.

Jesslyn stepped faster than the other two and reached Laurel just ahead of the older ones.

"I speak for myself and my brother, we will stand with you," she looked the part of a stern warrior eager once again for battle and her voice was strong and unwavering. She gripped Laurel's hand hard, then moved away, inbetween the Swan Wood maiden and the Rohirrim army.

Leena also gripped Laurel's hand. "I fight," was all she said before she moved back to join Jesslyn.

Lanaey took Laurel's hand and put her other over, completely covering Laurel's one hand. In a small shout she proclaimed, "We all fight!"

That brought another set of cheers. The cries were suddenly brought short as two figures appeared quit suddenly behind Laurel. She turned as the dark Elf brothers approached. They didn't say anything, just nodded a bit, then went and joined the three women.

Laurel turned back and stood tall as she faced all those now waiting on her to speak again.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel stood and watched as her comrades assembled beside her. Her heart had begun to sink as she waited for them, but now she felt renewed strength. When the noise died down, she slowly began again.

'Your honour is unmatched. These times will go into tales for a great time among these people! Your bravery at this moment is enough to topple any army! That is what I believe!'

'But now I ask you to hasten. We must be ready. I ask you all begin to get ready for the great onslaught! In three days we shall have these Villagers homes free of fear, as it was meant to be!'

With great cheers of support, the group dissapated, and only their leaders were left.

'Well, now is the time for strategy. What say you?'

[Kryssal]

Herebrand spoke first before any had a chance. "I've talked with some of the top of my men," he briefly looked at Leena, "and we've come up with a plan..." He then went into detail about how his men would be split up under the command of four people: himself, Leena, Lanaey, and Laurel were the ones to be the leaders after some consultation with the group. These groups would leave near sunset to get in position, surrounding the wild men respectively. When false dawn started and the wild men were at their most tired and bleary eyed, Herebrand would sound a horn and the attack would begin. He ended at looked at Laurel. She was the decision maker.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

In the woods, elderly men and women and skinny little children trampled their way through the foliage. They were hastening towards the caves, praying and hoping that no Wild Men would find them. As they moved through the trees and brush stray villagers would join their troop, some of them wounded men and women who had fought against the Wild Men in the first onslaught. News would be shared, and then quiet would engulf the group, the only sounds would come from the snapping of twigs and parting of leaves and brush.

Fear was set in all the children's faces, and the elderly felt the fear eminating, though they hid it well. Adela was one of those children. She was four, and she was clinging to a boy from town that she had never met before the battle. He'd offered to carry Adela when the group of villagers began evacuating. His name was Stefan.

'Stefan?' Adela murmured, and the black-haired boy that carried her turned his head as he clambered over a fallen tree trunk. Adela took a big breath and sighed, burying her face in the older boy's shoulder. 'I miss my mommy and daddy. Do you think we'll ever be able to go home again?'

'I...I don't...' Stefan stammered, but his voice remained strong. He was unsure of what to tell the girl. Stefan didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to discourage the little girl. 'Well, Adela, I think that Laurel will save us. Or, well, I hope everything will be alright again. I have faith in the people that are fighting for our home.'

Stefan neglected to tell the little girl that he also had a terrible feeling that very few villagers that had stayed behind to fight would be alive. Adela doesn't need to know that her parents were probably dead, Stefan thought. For all he knew his own parents might have perished. There was no telling. Nothing was certain. All Stefan knew for sure was that he was alive and he was not alone.

A cry was heard from the front of the villagers' group. Stefan looked up and Adela's head snapped up and away from Stefan's shoulder. Up ahead, joyous cries were heard, but these cries were soon hushed by others who were worried about being found: for the group had come upon the caves that would be their haven. Others had already made it to the caves, people that Stefan didn't know. Entering the cave, Stefan found a little crook in the wall to sit down with Adela.

'Stefan?' Adela murmured again, standing and stretching while Stefan craned his neck and relaxed his muscles. Stefan listened as Adela continued. 'Stefan, I think we're going to be fine.'

-----

Jesslyn listened carefully as Herebrand explained the plan. At certain points of the explanation Jesslyn would nod, proud and sure of the plan. It would work, of course it would. It had to work. It was their last chance. The last chance to save a town after such a fateful attack. Herebrand, Laurel, Leena, and Lanaey would be the leaders of four groups, which would be evenly set up around the Wild Men's campsite.

Jesslyn sighed as everything was talked through by Laurel, Herebrand, Leena, and Lanaey and any outspoken warrior or fighting villager. Jesslyn didn't know what part she could play in this other than fighting as a soldier in this small army that would save Alphirion. Would that be enough? Jesslyn wasn't sure.

'Laurel,' Jesslyn looked at the leader of their group and met her eyes. 'Perhaps I could take the archers and set a ring around the camp? We'd hide in the foliage and take aim in secret,' Jesslyn suggested meekly, not certain of how her idea would be taken. Jesslyn cringed, wondering where her strong voice filled with certainty had gone. 'In any case, someone else could lead the archers if you don't want me to.'

-----

Back in the Healing House, Cartil woke up in his cot, eyes wide and brow sweaty from a nightmare. He'd gone to sleep, and his dreams were terrible to him. He dreamed that Laurel had been taken by the Wild Man, the one called Cuor that Cartil had met when under captivity. Cuor thought that Laurel belonged to him, at least in Cartil's dream. And Cartil was not able to do anything to save Laurel.

Then he woke up.

Cartil decided to leave the cot. He was exhausted, but he felt too idle just lying in bed while others went off to fight and die bravely for others. At first Cartil was too exhausted to even lift his head from his pillow. But, one muscle at a time, Cartil lifted his head and shoulders until eventually he was sitting upright in his cot. Then his next struggle was to move his legs off the side of his cot. This wasn't too hard, and neither was standing up. Soon Cartil had abandoned his cot and was standing upright. His body ached with wounds and fatigue caused during his captivity, and still he moved to take a step towards the door that led outside.

That was where Laurel would be, holding a meeting. And Cartil would be there to help.

[Taralphiel]

Lauren nodded at Herebrand. 'That is what would work best. Attacking with one large groups seems to me to be too risky'

Laurel saw Jesslyn in the corner, and soon she spoke up 'Perhaps I could take the archers and set a ring around the camp? We'd hide in the foliage and take aim in secret,'

'That is a very good plan. I will leave you in charge of those archers Jesslyn. We need someone to be ready if all goes ill'

Laurel looked around the circle of villagers and soldiers and spared a smile. 'Now is the time to rest, it is getting late. We will attack tomorrow eve'

The sun had began to set when she headed for the Sick House with Jesslyn. The saw a figure leaning heavily against the door, and Jess yelped and ran forward. Cartil had managed to get out of bed and was heading out the door.

Jesslyn took an arm over her shoulder and attempted to turn him back round. Laurel quickly gave her a hand.

'You should be a bit more careful Cartil! You need to sleep! You havent fully healed!'

As if to remind her, a small ache came from her still bandaged leg. She shrugged it off as the last of the hurt, and helped set him to his cot.

'I wanted to go to the meeting. I want to help you all' he began.

'Well, you will be able to when the time comes. We have organised three groups of men to ambush the camp, and some failsafe archers as well'

Laurel was about to explain more of their last stand when a great sound of hoofs and feet, and cheers were heard outside.

~*~

Annanoldowen saw the small village of the Swan through the near dusk. She slowed her horse and strode beside Captain Gellick.

'I thank you for your haste. As you can see, this village is almost taken'

'By Eru' Gellick mumbled 'It took some miracle for them to manage, I can see!'

'More close to the brave men of Rohan' Annanoldowen smiled tiredly. She had informed Gellick of all that had happened thus far, and they anticipated that Laurel had begun planning defenses, or even an attack.

Annanoldowen saw Laurel at the door of the Sick House as she rode in, the banners of Gondor riding behind her. She and Gellick dismounted and approached her.

'Lady Laurel. We come on behalf of the kingdom of Gondor, at your request for aid. We send the force of the West to aid you in this dark time. May we win back your hope, and your freedom' Gellick said proudly.

Laurel bowed and said 'I am truly grateful to you and your Men! Here you will not find much, but it is yours to find comfort and rest. For tomorrow we march for freedom or eternal rest!'

~*~

Herebrand stood by Ohtaredan, watching the army of Gondor. They were a sight to behold, their black and silver armour glinting lightly in the moonlight.

'It seems this place conjours miracles indeed' said Ohtaredan in wonder 'With this force we yet have a chance!'

Herebrand had though to give up hope, but now his spirit flew high 'Yes. We shall ride tomorrow, and victory will be our reward!'

~*~

Laurel sat by Cartil's cot as the cool of night set in. The army of Gondor had brought tears to her eyes, and sent an excited buzz through the ruins of the Village. She had visited her grandfather, and he could barely contain himself. Some soldiers were kind enough to even visit him, and that brought joy to his old soul. The Village was told to keep all noise down, and to turn out all lights, so no suspicion would be detected.

Cartil too had been overjoyed to see those soldiers, and it seemed to help him regain his strength. She sat by Jesslyn, and quietly said 'Are you afraid Jesslyn?'

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:29 PM December 30, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey had been talking with the dark brothers and Leena when the new army arrived. She smiled fiercly and was happily thinking about how this would help them fight the wildmen when Leena hugged her too hard causing a spasm in her back wound. Leena hadn't noticed and moved on to find Herebrand for a quick chat about the new 'recruits'. Galain came up and took hold of her elbow, giving her stability when her back curved against her will.

"Forget about your wounds?" He asked mildly while his older brother chuckled from behind them.

Lanaey barely smiled in return. "Yes, actually. I suppose I simply put it to the back of my mind and it decided now was the time to remind me. I think I need to put some more salve on it with bandages over night."

She moved to walk away towards the sick house, but Galain held onto her elbow and turned her direction over toward the edge of the center square where Gorath was now rummaging through what Lanaey recognized as their packs.

"Try our medicine. It will help for upcoming days," Galain smiled at the female Elf as his sibling produced the mixtures.

A warm smile spread over her lips. "Thank you."

~*~

Leena grinned and looked like she might burst into giggles or jump into an attack when she approached Herebrand.

"Those groups of ours might be a little bigger now."

Ohtaredan laughed while Herebrand nodded his assent. The captain spoke after his friend's gails had ended. "So eager for battle fair maiden?"

The priestess' eyes flashed and she stepped forward a pace. "Do you question my ability or valor?"

Herebrand shook his head slowly. "Nay, just your thirst."

She stepped back to stand straight and glared at him. "It is in check and will remain so," though her burst of anger marked against that. She glanced around at all the settling men. "I should turn in," and she nodded curtly at the two soldiers before walking briskly away.

Herebrand and Ohtaredan watched her leave and then looked at each other. Finally Ohtaredan shrugged then clapped his captain on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. The more lust the harder she'll fight in the end since she wouldn't listen anyway. I'm off to find food."

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"I bet you couldn't climb up there"
"I bet I wouldn't want to climb up there!" Elena said, putting her nose in the air, but smiling at Fiona.
"Humph. You just don't want to mess your hair up" Fiona said grumpily.
"I bet you couldn't swim the whole way across that pond in the village" Elena returned.
"Bet I could. I'll show you when..." Fiona trailed off. "When we go back home"
Elena swallowed. "You can try" she said, trying to sound normal.
The two girls stood silently for a minute.
"We will be going back, won't we?" Elena asked in a small voice.
"I-"
Fiona was cut off by shouts from the direction of the inhabited caves. She ran to see what was happening, and Elena followed. By the cave mouth soldiers and servants were crowding around horses and... people.

"Stefan!" Fiona shouted excitedly, waving to a tall boy. "Elena, it's people from the village! They've come! Stefan, have you seen my Mama and Papa and Hurin and Aragorn?"
"Don't shout" a maid said bossily, and Fiona stuck her tongue out while still beckoning wildly to Stefan. The boy walked over slowly, holding the hand of a little girl.
"Fiona-" he began wearily, then licked his lips.
"Do you want a drink?" Elena asked quietly, and he nodded. "You should sit down" she added, glancing at Fiona.

Elena walked over to the buckets of water. Most had been surrounded by newcomers, but luckily there were plenty. She filled two dippers.
"I could eb looking for them myself by now" Fiona whispered grumpily, coming up behind Elena.
Elena ignored her and took the dippers to where Stefan and the girl were sitting in a far corner of the cave, which was slowly beginning to fill with people.
After they had drunk, Fiona looked expectantly at Stefan.

"Your Papa and Hurin went to fight the wildmen" he began, then smiled. "They said Aragorn was too young but he went after them in the night anyway." His smiled drooped. "They brought Hurin back, he got hit by an arrow. He ought to be well though, soon. They must be bringing him along, but the horses with the wounded have to go slower. I'm sorry, I haven't seen your Mama."

Fiona gulped. Elena could see her eyes were wet.
"She's probably hiding somewhere," she said brightly. "probably in the woods! I mean, we are well but your family and my Papa were probably worried about us. There must be people all over the place!"
Elena was suddenly aware of the little girl's eyes fixed on her. She licked her lips nervously.
"All over the place" she repeated.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Are you afraid Jesslyn?" Laurel asked quietly as the two young women sat by Cartil's side. Jesslyn had nearly fallen asleep in her chair, and her eyes were bleary as she looked up at Laurel. Laurel was looking down at Cartil, who was looking up at his sister and waiting for her reply.

"I guess I am. Though, I feel selfish to say that I am scared for myself, and so I will admit that I am even more scared for those that I love and have come to know and love on this journey," Jesslyn replied, smiling and looking out the window as the darkness began to envelope Alphirion. "I guess it doesn't matter much though, for we've begun this fight for Alphirion and thus we must finish it, whether we are fearful or not."

"Well said," Cartil complimented, smiling and laughing light-heartedly. When he began to cough Laurel stood, offering to get drinks for herself and Jesslyn and water for Cartil. Then Laurel's wounded leg gave, and she fell back into her chair. Jesslyn immediately jumped up and went to get the drinks, and offered to get a nurse for Laurel but the other girl declined, claiming she was fine. With that, Jesslyn left the room.

"Will you be able to fight with your leg?" Cartil asked Laurel, worry in his eyes but certainty in his voice. Laurel nodded, smiling and resting a hand on Cartil's own. Then Laurel sighed and looked at Cartil. "And what about you, Cartil? Are you going to go out and fight as well? With your injuries?" Laurel inquired in return.

"Of course I will fight. I will fight for the innocent of Alphirion, and for their hopes for the future. I'll fight behind you, Laurel, and I'll fight for you," Cartil's voice started out strong and affirming, and ended in a determined whisper. Cartil took Laurel's hand in his, and pulled her close. "Laurel, I won't let you be taken by Cuor. I won't live to see you become some toy for a disgusting Wild Man."

-----

Adela kept her grey eyes locked on the one girl, the one who had remained silent. Who were these two? Adela wondered. The one that talked a lot obviously knew her saviour Stefan, but what was she rambling on about? Stefan looked increasingly worried as he continued speaking with the girl, and Adela wondered if something about the talker-girl was making him sick.

"She's probably hiding somewhere," The talker-girl continued, masking the emotion that had consumed her small face. "Probably in the woods! I mean, we are well but your family and my Papa were probably worried about us. There must be people all over the place!"

Adela laughed inwardly. Hiding? Ha! she thought ruefully, suddenly wondering where her own parents were, and where her family was. The talker-girl was obviously worried for her mommy, and Stefan hadn't seen her so maybe...No. Adela glared at the talker-girl. She didn't need to worry about her parents.

"Actually, Fiona," Stefan began, searching for words and wondering if he would even say them in front of Adela and Elena. "Here," Stefan grumbled, trying to hand Adela to Elena so he might speak with Fiona privately. Adela refused, squirming and wrapping her skinny arms around Stefan's neck. Stefan sighed. "Fiona, something happened earlier. I was with your mother in the woods and with about twenty others. We were trying to join the others going to the caves, but the Wild Men surrounded us. The men tried to fight back and a few of the warriors came to help, but a lot of them died. I don't know if your mother...I don't know if she...died, I don't think so... but she might be hurt really bad or even if she's not hurt at all, she's not here...I don't know. I just don't want you to worry where she is..."

Adela buried her face in Stefan's shoulder.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Fiona, something happened earlier. I was with your mother in the woods and with about twenty others. We were trying to join the others going to the caves, but the Wild Men surrounded us. The men tried to fight back and a few of the warriors came to help, but a lot of them died. I don't know if your mother...I don't know if she...died, I don't think so... but she might be hurt really bad or even if she's not hurt at all, she's not here...I don't know. I just don't want you to worry where she is..."

Elena gasped in horror as Stefan talked, and immediately turned to Fiona. Her face crumpled, and Elena put her arms around her.
It will be well she whispered fiercely, to herself and Fiona. Fiona sat upright and, hiding behind Elena, wiped her face. Elena realised she didn't want Stefan to know she had been crying.

"My Mother would never allow herself to be killed by wild men" Fiona said quite calmly. "Especially not if she still had to be angry at Aragorn for doing what he wasn't supposed to. And by the way Stefan, why did you not go with my brother?"
"Fiona!" Elena said, glaring at her.
"Fiona, may I talk to you for a while?" Stefan asked in a brittle voice, standing. Fiona followed him, and so did the little girl. Stefan whispered something to her, and unwillingly she sat down again. Stefan and Fiona walked away.

Elena sat silently for a moment. Putting her hand up to her face, she realised it was wet, and wiped her cheeks hastily. With a smile she gestured the little girl over closer to her. She didn't move.
"What's your name?" Elena asked, still trying to smile. Her face felt heavy, as though it wasn't used to using that expression.
"Adela" she answered quietly.
"Adela would you like something to eat?" Elena asked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out an apple.
"Yes please"
Elena held it out, but would not lean towards Adela. The little girl was forced to come closer to take the apple, and then sat down. For a while they sat in silence as Adela ate.
"Why were you with Stefan?" Elena asked after a while. Adela paused, as though deciding whether to say anything.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel listened, as Jesslyn said quietly "I guess I am. Though, I feel selfish to say that I am scared for myself, and so I will admit that I am even more scared for those that I love and have come to know and love on this journey,"

"I guess it doesn't matter much though, for we've begun this fight for Alphirion and thus we must finish it, whether we are fearful or not."

Laurel smiled at her, and felt a great care rise for her. She had not known Jesslyn very long at all, but she had grown to respect her greatly. Her attitude was a great sight more carefree than Laurel's. At first she had not understood it, but as her hope waned, she came to find it a great blessing.

"Well said," grinned Cartil at his sister. As if his body was telling him his own strength, he coughed heavily.

'Ill get us some water' Laurel mumbled and got swiftly out of her chair. To Laurel's embarassment, her body did the same, and moved her right back to her chair with a throb from her leg. Jesslyn wasted no time, and went to get the water herself.

"Will you be able to fight with your leg?"

Laurel looked at Cartil. His face showed a deep concern, and she was taken aback by it.

"And what about you, Cartil? Are you going to go out and fight as well? With your injuries?" Laurel said it quickly, glossing over her own hurt.


"Of course I will fight. I will fight for the innocent of Alphirion, and for their hopes for the future. I'll fight behind you, Laurel, and I'll fight for you,"

For me... she thought with a smile. She never thought she could head an army.

She felt Cartil take her hand quickly, and pull her closer to him. She stared at him, shocked at the look in his eyes.

"Laurel, I won't let you be taken by Cuor. I won't live to see you become some toy for a disgusting Wild Man."

Laurel's face grew pale. She thought of Cuor, and what his motives could be, and she felt sick. She looked at Cartil, and felt very useless.

'I..' she paused, and tried to keep the colour from her face. 'I thank you for that. I hope it does not come to a matter of life or death Cartil...'

~*~

Cuor moved through the forest, following the river through the dense trees outside of the Swan House. His mind turned over and over, of what those two brothers could possibly do.

He smiled 'My plan cannot be undone. It cannot. It is foolproof! Those foolish Eldar think they know all! They think me so low! It shall not always be so! They have their futile attack planned. It matters not what happens. I shall snatch her in the heat of the battle, and no-one shall know! Not until it is too late...' This thought kept a smile on his face from the Village to the forest.

His ears could pick up the arrival of the soldiers of Gondor arriving, and he smiled. He wished for many armies to join in the chaos of the battle. He wanted to be able to move as a shadow, in and out with his prize.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

'I thank you for that. I hope it does not come to a matter of life or death Cartil...' Laurel stammered, and Cartil smiled weakly. Hope was fleeting in the end of their fight for Alphirion, Cartil knew, but the hope in Laurel’s eyes was strong and unfaltering. It almost made the hope in Cartil’s heart jump back up into his throat. But where would the hope fly to when the battles continued and the plans were executed?

‘Yes, I hope…’ Cartil paused at the word. ‘I hope so too, but sometimes hope is blind to reality. In any case, if things do go ill, I will be there until the end,’ Cartil finished, looking up at Laurel and releasing her hand. The hope remained in her eyes, and if it was possible, the hope became even stronger than it had been before. Cartil wondered if Laurel’s hope was ever capable of failure, or if her faith and pride would ever die. Cartil thought not, but if it ever should he knew it would be a dark day. Just as Cartil had released Laurel’s slender hand, Jesslyn walked back in with three glasses and a slightly chipped water pitcher.

‘Hmm…let’s see…’ Jesslyn murmured, pouring glasses of water and passing them around. A smile was playing on her lips and excitement was in her eyes. ‘So, I was thinking, since I’m taking the archers and all…’ Jesslyn began, speaking to Laurel and practically ignoring her brother on his cot. ‘I could take them and surround their camp in a circle through the woods. We could pick off any Wild Men we see on the fringes, one by one in secret and hide the bodies and work our way into the main encampment. Then the main armies on foot can come in and take care of the core of the Wild Men, and the archers will have your backs. How does that sound? We can leave soon, before the main attack was supposed to take place! We’ll have everything ready for the armies to join us tomorrow morning or noon!’

--

Stefan led Fiona away from Elena and Adela, and took her small shoulder in his grasp. She stared defiantly back at him, and his eyes softened for he could never be mad at Fiona for long. Stefan sighed and let go of the girl's arm. Then he folded his arms across his chest, thinking about what to say that would convey his frustration but not hurt Fiona.

'Fiona! I can't believe you sometimes!' Stefan began, knowing it was a weak start. He sighed again, this time out of serious frustration. 'There are so many things you just said that were completely unacceptable. First of all, were you accusing me of cowardice back there? When you asked why I was not with your brother?'

'Maybe,' Fiona mumbled darkly, a smug look on her face. 'Besides, you're not my mother or father. You can't tell me what is right or wrong. And why didn't you stay and fight? You are old enough. That was all I was trying to point out! You could have helped fight!'

'That's beside the point! Maybe for once I decided to stop thinking about saving my own hide and help someone else live!' Stefan spoke as loud as he could without shouting or yelling. 'I saved Adela! She would have been killed if I hadn't helped her make it to the cave!'

'You were scared!' Fiona accused, pointing, raising her voice to match Stefan's. 'If you had stayed to fight you would have been saving lives for every Wild Men you might have killed. But no, you decided to save some little girl that could have been saved by someone else!'

'That's another thing,' Stefan continued, interrupting Fiona. 'She might not have her mother and father anymore! For all you know they could be dead, just like your mother might be dead!' - Fiona gasped audibly at this horrendous claim - 'She's four years old, you don't need to push it!'

Stefan saw Fiona's face after he finished talking, and then his heart sank. He'd gone too far by mentioning Fiona's mother. Fiona's face had noticibly paled, and she turned away from him to go back and join Elena and Adela. Stefan caught up with her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Adela considered what her answer to Elena would be, and munched quietly on her apple, contemplating whether she should even answer in the first place. It certainly was not proper to tell strangers of your disposition and such. Even the cold four-year old Adela knew that! So silly, this girl… Adela thought amusedly. But Elena seemed intent on an answer, so Adela gave her one.

‘I have short legs,’ Adela answered shortly. ‘Stefan is tall. He is twelve, I know.’

Elena laughed, though it seemed almost like it was forced, as if she did not have the heart to laugh. Adela did not blame her; it was not a happy time, and laughing was not appropriate at such a dark time. Even Adela knew this! So silly, this girl… Adela thought again, taking another bite of her apple. Then Elena asked what Adela meant by Stefan being tall, and Adela wondered if Elena was from Alphirion, for she seemed so strange! Maybe she is just old? Adela alleged, wondering.

‘I had to run from the dirty ugly men,’ Adela explained, matter-of-factly. ‘Stefan offered to save me. He is so nice,’ Adela informed Elena, using her vocabulary of small words. ‘Yes. I told him thank you and he is my saver-boy. That is why I am with Stefan.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Elena said, her eyes aglow. At that moment, Stefan returned from his conversation with Fiona, and his cheeks were red as he held Fiona tightly around her left shoulder. They sat down, and it seems that Stefan was nervous to say anything, for fear of setting off the quietly fuming Fiona.

‘Stefan! Stefan! I got me an apple! Guess who? Guess who! Say who gave it to me!’ Adela said excitedly, crawling over to him and giving his a wringing hug about his neck. Then she left him, and rejoined Elena, sitting in front of her cross-legged. Adela smiled up at Elena, and Stefan shrugged, not much in the mood for speaking after having an argument with Fiona about who had gone where, and what had happened to her mother, and what had happened to everyone.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:55 PM January 19, 2004: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Taralphiel]

I will be there until the end

Laurel smiled at Cartil's loyalty, and was truly happy to have someone like him, and his sister close by. When Jesslyn came back, she suggested that the archers take a more decisive role, and move further to counter any escaping Wild Men.

'That is a very good idea, and we shall use it Jesslyn' Laurel smiled

'We want a strong victory, and I think the Gondorians have given it to us. We now have four definite groups that can strike at the Wild Men, as well as your archers. We have an advantage now'

With four groups lead by herself, Leena, Lanaey, and Herebrand; Laurel had higher hopes than she had before. After all the planninbg had been done, now they needed rest.

Laurel slowly made her way out of her chair, and eased down on a cot not far from Cartil.

'Goodnight to you both' she said 'May you be ready for what it ahead!' she grinned.

~*~

Herebrand greeted the dawn and stretched in the dawn. Ohtaredan stumbled to waking behind him.

'Riding to War today my friend! What a thing! My blood courses!'

He had been informed of what he should do. His army was to be divided into two groups. He was to lead his men on horseback in a charge on the exposed side of the camp. Laurel was to take his other men and ambush from behind. All with skill of bow were to be sent in a group with teh Lady Jesslyn. Herebrand had allready mentally divided his group. He strolled over to the camp of the men of Gondor, and saw him doing the same.

Bowing respectfully to Gellick he said: 'I am honoured to ride with you today Sir' Gellick gave agrin 'An I you, Sir Herebrand. Our Alliance is ever strong, and I rejoice in it'

He turned his head when he heard someone call out the name of Lady Laurel. He saw a lone man, running down the main street, barely holding himself up. Herebrand ran to his aid...

~*~

Annunfuin felt himself held up by the strong Herebrand.

'I need to speak with Laurel' he mumbled. His mouth was dry and he fumbled with his words.

He had ran from the forest after helping all the women and children to safety, following the line of people moving from the Village. He had an urgency in his heart that Laurel needed his help, and what he had gleaned from those walking by him helped his resolve. A new army had come, and they rose the hopes of all. The Last Stand had been planned.

Herebrand turned the mans body to the Sick House, and he saw the worried face of a man he knew 'Gellick! Praise to Eru!'

The two embraced, and Gellick asked of all those who had come to represent Gondor. Slowly Annunfuin told his tale, and mourned for Sir Thagin again. He was then informed that Lady Leena was leading one of the armies, and his courage swelled in him.

'I wish to be in this Last Stand! Show me to Lady Laurel!'

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:12 AM January 18, 2004: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey had slept a bit that night so that she would be at full awareness for the coming fight. As the majority of the humans started stirring and waking the Elf went to Herebrand to find out who her soldiers were.

"Share a plate, Lady. My men cook good stew; it'll give you strength," the Captain invited before she could speak herself.

She sat down gingerly to not disturb the just changed bandages; let them do what good they could before made useless by battle movements. With a 'thank you' she started eating the shallow bowl of stew which looked more like glorified chicken gravy.

"I was wondering where my men are. I'd like to look them all over and tell them exactly what we have planned," she got her point out straight once her food was finished.

Herebrand nodded and put another large spoonful of stew into his mouth, swallowing before responding. "I thought you might. I divided them," he pointed off to one side where one distinct group of several hundred men with horses going about their morning habits, "and those are under your command."

"Thank you," she clasped his hand and stood up. "See you out there," and she walked off toward her group.

A third of the way to her destination Leena came running up to her. The priestess slowed as she neared. "You from east, me from west," her eyes flashed.

"That is the plan. Know where your men are yet?"

"I'm going to Herebrand now. I'm guessing those are yours," at Lanaey's nod she continued, "meet you in the middle?"

They shook hands. "It's a promise." A grin spread wide on each.

~*~

The brothers had long discussed what they wanted to do in the fight. Their initial reaction was to go with Laurel and keep an eye over her, but they were better bowmen than fighters and could realistically help more that way.

Jesslyn was getting some breakfast when they came up to her suddenly. She looked a bit startled at their entrance.

Galain spoke for them. "We would like to enter the fight with your group, but will go to fighting need be. What say you?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn had been getting breakfast and preparing to leave that morning with her group of archers. She had a head count, and about fifty archers had been spared from their original group to take on the task. Some were well trained with a bow, others were sent merely because they were of little use with a sword. As she was getting breakfast, Jesslyn was approached by the elven brothers.

"We would like to enter the fight with your group, but will go to fighting need be. What say you?" Galain spoke, and Jesslyn blinked. Then she smiled and nodded.

"Of course! I mean, well, yes. I'd be honored to have you in my group!" Jess began, but her smile faltered as she became slightly worried. "We're leaving soon. We'll be out before half an hour passes. Is this all right?"

"Of course," Galain answered for the two again. "We will be ready to leave when you are. Where are the archers that have volunteered? How many are there?"

"Ahh, fifty or so. They are waiting just outside the entrance to the house, wrapping things up, saying goodbye and everything," Jesslyn replied, looking at her half-eaten breakfast. "I was just finishing breakfast because I was all packed. But now that we're all ready, I suppose we better be getting on."

Jesslyn led the brothers to the group, who were pulling small packs onto their backs and holding bows in their hands. It was quite a state of disarray, and the brothers joined the mass and somehow managed to blend in with the human archers. Jesslyn stood up on a stool, ready to address the people under her command. She held her hands up and in minutes the whole troop of archers were listening to her.

Jesslyn didn't think she had ever had so many eyes on her, ever.

"You've been sent as the first part of the last stand for Alphirion," Jesslyn began, not entirely sure what to say. She wondered if her voice was weak, wondered if the people would begin to shift and wait for her to end. But they didn't. They waited for her to continue. "We leave to help save this town. Some of you are from here, some of you feel strongly enough for this that you've lent your skills and life to help. For that, you must be proud of yourself and the person next to you. But, some of you will not return. I may not return, for all we know. Just be proud of why you are here, and don't lose faith. Let's go."

The archers finished packing their things and Jesslyn got her bow and quiver. Then she went inside the house and was welcomed by the sight of Cartil standing by his cot with his hand on the wall to keep him stable. Jesslyn watched him walk from his cot to another, and then when he sat back on his cot Jess walked over to him and gave him a hug.

"I'm leaving now, Cartil. Please don't fight if it is going to hurt you," Jess whispered in Cartil's ear, and he nodded, but said that he would do what he had to do to protect Laurel. Jess smiled and left the room, hoping that she'd return to see Cartil before the end. Then she walked back outside, and Jesslyn began to lead the fifty or so archers into the woods towards the camp of the Wild Men. Their hope was to pick off any Wild Men on the outskirts of the camp one by one, just to make it as easy for the others as they could.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel woke up and made sure not to wake Jess or Cartil. She was squinting in the dawn when she heard a familiar voice call her name...

'Sir Annunfuin!' she cried, when she saw his strong face through the morning gleam. She embraced the man like a father, and smiled at his expression.

'I am glad to see you are well, Laurel, very glad' he said softly

'I too, am happy to see you are well. We have had little news from the House. Is my grandmother well?'

Annunfuin nodded 'When last we spoke, yes. Rudhchamion now stays with her. She is safe from the great of the battle'

'That comforts me' said Taralphiel. As they walked towards the town square, Annunfuin noticed her very slight limp under her armour.

'It still pains you Laurel?'

'Only very little. Ive improved much. There are others I am more worried about'

'I still ask you to be careful. I shall watch over you in this battle. I shall be in your group of men'

Laurel turned and smiled 'I thank you, Annunfuin. I will be glad to fight beside you'

They entered the square, and the groups had been assembled. All were making their preparations, and getting the last moments of sleep.

'I must leave you here for a moment. I need to visit my grandfather.'

'I shall come along' said Annunfuin, dusting his riding gear off a little.

~*~

Havlor smiled at his granddaughters face, and took her hand eagerly 'I knew you would take such a course my dear. You have the workings of your father. He would make such a move, and it is brave and true!'

'I would that you could see it all come about grandfather. Tell me you will be well when I return'

'I will be well when this woman lets me out for some fresh air!' he chuckles at Rivwyn, who only fusses with his sheets

'I call this love, husband. Remember you have not the strength to stand!' she said in a tone that was slightly jovial. Taralphiel watched as the bickered, and laughed heartily. Annunfuin watched the family together, and wondered if this is what would heal Laurel's wounds...

[Kryssal]

Gorath and Galain quickly dissapeared into the forest when Jesslyn's archers set out. They were still with her group, but preferred to be on the outside. The nite tide of darkness would soon be aproaching and all of the groups would have to be in place.

On spur of the moment Galain deftly swung up into one of the trees. After getting through the initial thick growth he was in the sparse middle to upper parts. He could see down at the rest of the archers making their way through the floor. Glancing up he could see some storm clouds in the distance.

"They won't come in till late, if even," Gorath said as he came up to his brothers level.

Galain nodded and then glanced back at the men below. Without a look to see if his brother would follow the dark Elf started moving to the next tree, his general goal being Jesslyn. The brothers were going to position themselves above and each to one side of the human. Laurel had come to them when she found out they were to travel in her group.

"Please, watch over her. She's a bit headstrong and doesn't yet know her limitations."

The brothers had agreed and so had a new mission to fulfil.

~*~

Annanoldowen rode next to Lanaey. They had left a little while ago to wind their way slowly around. They hadn't taken the direct route to avoid getting the horses and their noises too close to the wildmen's camp. The scholarly Elf seemed rather tense, and Lanaey understood perfectly well why she did. A battle field was cold and should only be viewed through stories and books to scholars. They weren't fighters. To Lanaey it was a necessary event that had to be molded by those who could make a difference. It was very much alive and shaped the world just as surely as farms and cities did.

"How can you take this life?" Annanoldowen spoke quietly from her side.

Lanaey pondered a moment and glanced back at all those following her lead. "I was taught how to fight and I must use my skills to help those can't fight these battles. Most of those I help can better fight the elements against their crops than soldiers. Same with you and the scholarly life. I wouldn't be able to live that kind of existance."

"No other life but this one for you?" the thought seemed to disturb Annanoldowen.

Lanaey softly chuckled. "No...I could lead other paths. I could settle in a small life perhaps."

They were silent for a small portion then, but curiosity got to the scholarly one again. "How did you come to such a life? It isn't common for our kind to crave battle."

"My father taught me how since I was a child. He thought it better I know how to fight than to be overwhelmed by an evil force. I'm am viewed as slightly less for it."

Annanoldowen nodded at that remark. She could see how a female Elf warrior would be looked down on for her chosen life. Women were not fighters, especially Elven women.

Lanaey broke her thoughts. "Why do you fight this time Annanoldowen?"

"I learned the art though never practiced. I came to the aide of Taralphiel. Friendship bonds should always be kept."

Lanaey glanced at the others profile. "Are you scared?"

She bit her lip the tiniest fraction before answering. "A bit."

"Stay with me."

They were almost to their assigned part.

~*~

Leena had left early in her anticipation of the battle and her men were already in place. She didn't think that this might have been the wisest course of action, for now instead of being antsy in town she was having to endure it in realtive silence. They couldn't give their positions away. She glanced over at her men and smiled fiercly. These wild men would remember tonight through their eternities. If only the flaming arrow would fly.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel tensely moved along the forest floor, the great company of men following behind. The other group was by now out of sight, having split a few hours ago. Annunfuin strode beside her, his blade allready drawn.

The trees became sparse, and she held up her hand for the company to stop. There, she peered past the tents to see Wild Men bickering and gulping down ale taken from the Swan Villages cellars. She grit her teeth and turned, nodding to the group. She glanced at Annunfuin, and then Cartil with a small smile. She then strode out of the trees, the great company behind her, blades flickering and torches laid aside.

A cry of shock was heard as the Wild Men realised they had fallen into a trap they so often weaved, and seeing that the advantage was upon them, Laurel let out a cry as loud as her lungs could take it

'Go Forth! Fight for freedom and glory!' and she lifted her sword high and sprinted into the camp.

~*~

'This ale is all the sweeter for the filth blood spilt for it!' bellowed the King of the Wild Men. His cup heavy with his spoils, he chuckled as he thought of the victories yet at hand for his Men, and of driving more fear into the pitful peasants of Alphirion.

The battle cry of Laurel made him stumble and drop his goblet. Soon he heard the clashing of swords outside, and he roared in anger. Gathering his own stained blade, he dashed to the entrance of his tent, downing a man as he went. Relishing the smell of blood on his sword, he set out into the battle, looking for the upstart Maid that had the gall to try and outwit him...

~*~

Laurel heard the familiar booming of hundreds of swords slicing and fighting in a frenzy as she moved through the battle. Her own blade had been dulled by blood of Wild Men that hastily grabbed weapons and charged at her. Again another came, and moving as swiftly as her tired body allowed, she fell out of range of his blows, bringing her own sword to lie in his chest. Quickly wrenching it out, she saw another figure moved for her.

She looked and saw a man dressed in many furs, a battered chest plate covering him, and his sword and hands drenched in blood. His grin as he came upom her was filled with amusement and malice, and he spoke before raising his blade: 'Ill teach ye for trying to outwit me! Prize or no, I shall have your head!'

He swung his blade high, and Laurel stretched out of the way of it as he brought it down with a bellow. His strength greatly outdid hers, and she ducked from his blade several times.

He did not lose the grin on his face as he swiped over and over, Laurel being nicked in the arm by the edge of his sword. Hissing, she looked straight into his eyes and matched his stance.

'You are worn and panicked. I shall not lose to you' she mumbled.

He chuckled and brought her sword up again to strike. She ducked it as it hit the earth, and darted forward, only missing its rising by a hair. Now close enough, her foot landed squarely in his stomach, and as he moved forward, she sliced her blade past his throat.

He gurgled and spluttered as he hit the ground, and Laurel moved back as she watched him twitch and go still. The defeaning roar still ensued, and she did not notice another Wild Man shriek and raise his scimitar...

~*~

Annunfuin struggled through the battle, looking for the small form of Laurel amid the fallen and fighting. He found her, standing by the body of a great Wild Man, with a daze in her eyes.

He raced forward with a yell and cut down another Wild Man raising his sword to her from behind, and panting, looked at Laurel turn his way.

'We are driving them back slowly, and they are still dazed and surprised. We have time still to make more of this advantage'

Laurel nodded and raised her sword again, and not stopping to marvel at her courage, Annunfuin stood beside her and moved back into battle. Laurel then turned and yelled out the signal

'Let the arrow fly!' she cried.

[Kryssal]

Leena and her footmen had waited long enough. She had heard a cry coming from Laurel's direction and knew the fight was on. Surging forward she threw several darts at her nearest opponents before unsheathing her sword. The Gondorian soldiers swept around her and started engaging with cries of their own.

The priestess seemed to loose herself in the battle, almost a beserker. Her armor protected her from most of the small wounds, but a few heavier ones got through, including a slash that managed to swipe across her forhead. She had been lunging backwards to avoid the blow so it was shallow except at the very end, but the blood seemed to keep flowing down her face. Wiping furiously at her forehead she kept fighting and moving forward.

~*~

A flaming arrow seared across the sky and before any of the wild men could understand what it meant the groups were upon them.

Gorath was firing, never missing. Galain kept one eye on Jesslyn while making his own marks. Wild men were falling down to struggle or lie still and yet they kept coming.

~*~

As soon as Lanaey's eyes saw the first spark of the arrow she gave a sharp cry and sent her horsemen into the grounds. Being on Drass gave her a definite advantage over the ground ridden wild men. The horses laid waste to the men at first, but as they went further into the camp the lines began to spread. She and Annanoldowen were quickly separated, but Lanaey couldn't dwell on this.

Lanaey found herself surrounded by four wildmen. She grabbed a dagger and threw it at the one to her right, but with a deft twist he avoided it completely. The two on her left charged and she struck down at them, trying to take them out quickly. The bigger of the two grabbed her arm as the other clanged blade to blade with her. Drass reared and the wild man lost his hold. Drass slashed her forelegs at the man in front of her and knocked his head. He fell immediately to the ground. The bigger man quickly snatched the blade from the smaller man next to him and thrust it into her still rearing horse. Drass gave a terrible cry and fell to the side, pinning Lanaey's already injured leg.

The Elf had tried to brace herself for the fall, but she was at the mercy of her dying friend. Her head knocked against the ground and she struggled to regain her vision, fearing the wild men would kill her in her haze for she had lost her sword in the fall and unless she could get another weapon out quickly she was helpless. Lanaey shook her head vigorously, surprised she wasn't dead yet for her vision wasn't coming back quickly. Someone grabbed her shoulders and hauled her out from Drass and steadied her head. When she could see again she saw it was Gellick and that he had taken out her assailants. He grinned down at her and helped her to stand.

"Want to ride double?" the battle was not immediately around them and they had time to consider options.

Lanaey shook her head, "I'll take them on from down here. Thank you."

He nodded, remounted and they set off toward the nearest wild men.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn...

"Fire!" Jesslyn shouted from their place on a low hill overlooking the camp. They were close, not too far away at all. The archers were lined along in single file across the hill, shielded by the brush and dark trees. Bowstrings stretched thin before her command, and bowstrings were loosed after her command. It was amazing, and Jesslyn loved the feeling and passion before and during battle. There was power, there was desire, there was hope, and everything else all at once. Jesslyn let loose her own arrow and watched as all the forty-some arrows soared through the clear air with confident certainty.

Jesslyn let loose her second arrow, this time it was on fire. The signal. Galain and Goroth shot arrow after arrow, downing Wild Men like they'd been doing it since they were born (which might have been true, for all Jesslyn knew). Everything seemed to be going their way, and Jesslyn doubted anything going wrong. Jesslyn also doubted that she would lose any of her archers, since they were safely hidden by the brush and foliage.

But this hope was dashed as the Wild Men regained their senses and began to fight back despite their distraught manner at having been caught off guard. Some took up bows and began sending a hail of arrows up at the Swan Wood archers. Slowly, Jesslyn's numbers started to dwindle, as archers were being shot down one by one. Jesslyn looked over at Galain, who did not look over and just continued shooting. Then she turned to look at Goroth, who shrugged and followed his brother's actions. Jesslyn's loss of hope became visible in her eyes, and it was painful for her to see the other archers fall slowly but surely.

So she drew her sword.

"Charge!" she cried, lifting her sword as the remaining archers followed suit. Goroth and Galain looked over at her with surprise on their Elven faces. Jesslyn smiled, and took off down the hill and into the chaos of the campsite battle. It was envigorating, fighting with her sword once again, up close and personal with the disgusting Wild Men.

---

Cartil...

Making an effort to stay within sight of Laurel, Cartil worked his way carefully in the crowds of grunting, gurgling Wild Men. Cartil was still dizzy, but being in this tide-changing battle convinced him it was worthi his life. The Wild Men became slightly disheartened at the loss of their leader at the hands of Laurel, but this only sent them in a life-saving frenzy as each Wild Men fought for his own existance.

Laurel gave Cartil hope every time he began to lose it, just the sight of her fighting for what she loved and what was hers made him fight back with the courage that just reflected off of her. The battle became almost surreal because Cartil was certain that nothing bad could happen with Laurel leading them. Cartil kept himself from smiling with pride as he fought, because it would be haughty even though he knew they would be successful. Their leader was down, and their numbers were waning. The Wild Men were finished with their stay in Alphirion and the Swan Wood.

[Taralphiel]

Herebrand

His horse spurred forth, and springing down the slope, he called forth his army of Rohirrim to the battle.

'To Swan Wood!' he yelled and soon the great mass of horses were upon the enemy. Clashing and breaking of shields rang through the clear evening, and Herebrand could see the panic in the Wild Men's eyes as one by one they fell.

He pricked his ears as he heard the cry of a young woman. He saw Jesslyn Stone run into battle with her sword raised, and marvelled at her bravery at such a time. It seemed to fill him with greater energy, and he fought feverishly...

Ohtaredan

Ohtaredan felt a stir of joy as he saw the men of Rohan battel bravely uner the command of Herebrand. He also saw the strength they and the Gondorians took from the Elf-woman Lanaey, as she fought tirelessly.

Slashing wildly, hitting Wild Men every which way, he began to realise that hope was indeed kindled, and that Swan Wood may just be free. So he fought on, in renewed strength.

But his fortunes were not all well. In his musings, he did not see a Wild Man come attacking, and he was dragged from his horse. With a yelp, he thrashed out to defend himself, but before the Wild Man could land a killing blow, a spear went through his chest.

Ohtaredan could see the face of his Captain as he got to his feet and grabbed for his steed. Herebrand said 'Let us hope you stay on your horse now, friend!'

Ohtaredan swiftly mounted again, and rode into the throng again.

~*~

Laurel

Laurel fought on out of the cover of trees, her sword covered in blood, but her heart swelling with the hope that came. She now fought alongside Jesslyn, who had charged into the battle with a loud cry that had made Laurel very proud of her.

As the archers swarmed forwards, Laurel lost sight of Annunfuin and Cartil. But not fearing their safety greatly, she fought on as the Wild Men kept charging like cornered beasts.

Laurel was attacked by one, and was surpirsed by his ferocity. Backing into the trees slightly, she eventually found a break in his blows, and caught her blade in his shoulderblade.

Stooping a little to pull her sword out, she was caught quickly from behind, and a cold hand snaked over her mouth before she could cry out. A slender but long blade prodded her throat, and a voice mumbled:

'I have you now. Do not cry out, My Lady, it will do you little good'

Laurel kicked and tried to swing her arms out, but the blade began to draw blood, so she stopped her struggling.

She simply stumbled backwards as he led her into the trees...

[Kryssal]

Gorath was surprised at Jesslyn. This group had been designated as the archers. Many had already fallen in the trees and on the ground. Glancing around he saw that many were following her, though some were still firing. Jess was already fighting with the wildmen.

He called to his younger brother in their native tongue. "I'll cover from above."

Galain knew that meant he was to fight beside her, and he was the better of hand to hand combat. Taking a last shot at a man about to kill a settler, Galain swung his bow over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword while dropping to the ground. It took him several minutes to reach the warrior maidens side. Gorath had helped a bit from his vantage to clear Galains path.

Jesslyn didn't acknowledge the dark Elf as he started fighting beside her, yet she shifted her movements to better use the dual fighting.

All the time Gorath kept firing from afar.

~*~

Annanoldowen stumbled to one side and clutched her arm. She was in the clear for the moment and all she could think about was catching her breath. She was not meant for the warrior life.

A man spotted her and started toward her with a grin on his face. She straightened and raised her sword again, walking toward him as well. She would not be an easy kill no matter. He had two shorter blades and started swinging them around her. Annanoldowen's sword clanged against one first, than the other blade. Soon he would have her blade trapped and side wide open. Crying out she wrenched her blade to the side and brought it back in a sweeping arc which the wild man easily blocked. He brought his second blade around to cut into her abdomen, yet her stomach was not where it should have been. Still keeping her tight grip on the sword, the Elf had swept down and kicked viciously at his right knee cap, breaking it in. With one leg gone he quickly collapsed to her left and Annanoldowen drove her sword with his body. The blade entered just past midchest toward the right side of his body. He wasn't dead yet and he swung one blade at her legs. Annanoldowen hopped back as far as she could and her armor easily deflected the would be wound. In three breaths he was gone and she gruffly retrieved her weapon, holding the body down with her foot.

Not thinking about what she was doing anymore, the scholarly Elf turned savior walked on to her next fight.

~*~

Lanaey saw a figure coming from one side and turned with her blade raised again to find it her lost companion Annanoldowen. Before she could get to the Elf however, several wildmen came at Lanaey and she had to turn and meet them head on. It was a frenzy of blades, twists and turns. Lanaey's wounded leg from the last major battle was no longer working as well as it should, bending more at the knee than desired.

For a couple of moments Lanaey had been fighting three men and then suddenly, there was one. Taking him out was harder than she liked, but it didn't take too long. Looking over she saw Annanoldowen coming back towards her.

Annanoldowen sounded tired. "They didn't notice me. I got one and then the other came after me."

"Where is he?"

Annanoldowen nodded to one side where a wild man lay dead.

Lanaey nodded. "Thank you. Where's your horse?"

"I got knocked off," she shrugged.

Lanaey moved to her side and they continued together.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn...

The archers ran into the fray, and Jesslyn regretted her decision the second her blade hit a Wild Man's steel. The force of the impact shocked Jesslyn, sending vibrations through her sword that nearly numbed her arms. The man was huge -- Jesslyn wondered why she ran so blindly into battle and just took a swat at the first enemy she saw. It was foolish, and even though Jesslyn had taken note of the Elven brother's watchful eyes upon her, Jess couldn't help but doubt her chances with the Wild Man before her.

Jess got a good hit in once or twice, but it seemed of little concern to the big, burly man. Gashes that would be fatal to Jesslyn were like slightly annoying cuts to the Wild Man. His strikes shoved Jesslyn away, like a hand would swipe away a fly. Still Jesslyn fought on, because it was cowardly to run from a battle even if you were certain of failure.

And failure did come for Jesslyn. She took a daring aim with her sword to the Wild Man's head, which left her stomach uncovered and unprotected. The Wild Man knew his chance had come. Without hesitation he shoved his hand dagger into Jesslyn's stomach. It happened so fast, too fast for Gorath or Galain to help even if they'd noticed or had been near enough in the first place. Jesslyn's eyes widened, half full of surprise and half in agony and defeat.

Nothing was worse than when the Wild Man grinned with his nasty teeth and wrenched the dagger from Jesslyn's stomach. As she dropped her sword and staggered to the ground, the man laughed and kicked dirt on her. He mumbled something in humour and left her there...

Soon the pain was gone, and all Jesslyn could do was wait for her battered body to catch up with it all. Jesslyn didn't want to be around when Cartil or even Laurel found out that she'd been struck down. She didn't want to be alive to see if they'd be disappointed or worried. Jess just wanted to join the other poor souls that had fought for Alphirion. For the first time in her life Jess realized that just maybe she wasn't meant to be a warrior, or wasn't meant to fight.

So Jess closed her eyes, and let her body rest.

---

Cartil...

His breathing had become heavy and laboring, but somehow Cartil managed to take down another Wild Man. He was so exhausted, and looking up he began to wonder how long the battlw would go on. As he looked up, he managed to see a familiar face--

It was Laurel, but she was not battling heroically or bringing hope to the rest of the people fighting for her. With a panicked look on her face and a hand clasping her mouth shut, Laurel was being carried away into the trees by her captor.

Alarmed, Cartil sheathed his sword and ran across the battlefield to follow. They ducked into the foliage, and Cartil followed along until he almost got lost in the brush looking for Laurel. He remembered his promise to Laurel..."Laurel, I won't let you be taken by Cuor. I won't live to see you become some toy for a disgusting Wild Man."

Was it Cuor? Cartil could not tell, but he ran on despite, looking for any sign of Laurel or her captor.

[Kryssal]

Jesslyn had still been fighting with the same man when Galain got overly distracted by two opponents setting on him. The cover from Gorath had stopped a few seconds ago and the younger brother let a small thought of worry slip through his mind. The only reason he would stop firing was if he had been engaged by the wild men as well.

Galain did a side slash and temporarily got rid of one of his attackers. He heard a cry of pain from Jesslyn, but couldn't turn to look or help. Pushing with all his might he got the second attacker off of his blade and swung around to immediately clash with a giant wildman; it was the man Jesslyn had been fighting moments before.

Where is Jesslyn? She wouldn't leave a fight - he didn't have time to think more. He kicked out as hard as he could at the giants legs and turned to deflect a blow aimed at his head from the second attacker. Swinging both the blades to the ground Galain let go with his left hand and punched the wildman as hard as he could in the head who fell and started shaking to get up. The dark Elf didn't have time to finish him. He slightly turned again to barely deflect a blow from the giant and the first attacker was coming to his side quickly. Panic flared across the back of his mind, but he didn't let it surface at all. The end was never in sight until it was behind you.

The giant had his blade trapped and was about to overturn the struggle with his blade in Galains stomach. Galain only had a few seconds before the giant would get back up from the second and first attackers. Letting go of his blade entirely the giant over balanced and had to step forward one tiny step. In that time Galain moved as fast as he could to bring out one of his other blades. One of his smallest daggers came to his hand first and while the giant finally started lumbering up to finish the pesky Elf off, Galain slashed at his throat and once again kicked out. He couldn't wait to see, Galain focused on the nearest back up coming and threw his dagger at his chest. Swinging to one side he tried to pick his sword up again now that the giant wasn't standing over it, but he couldn't see it. He did see the giant lying still on the ground with a growing pool of blood seeping from him. Trying to get any blade the last attacker jumped at him. They went tumbling and the dark Elf took a sharp elbow to his face, leaving him a bit dazed. He still had daggers on him though and both his hands instinctively went to find one. They both came up fruitful and when the two enemies stopped rolling Galain went immediately into a crouch and lashed out, cutting him across the face and stabbing him in the chest directly. Pulling his short knife out of the dying man he went back to where his sword should have been.

He saw the hilt and half a hands length sticking out from under the giant and covered in blood. The wildman had landed on his own swords edge and ripped himself open. Putting his foot against the man Galain gripped the hilt and pulled. The blood on the blade made his grip slip and he fell backwards into the legs of another wild man who smiled down at him. Galain grabbed the mans knees and lunged forward, tipping the man backwards from his knees being pulled so quickly forward. The dark Elf pivoted and turned and saw a blade plunge into the fallen wildman's stomach.

"Herebrand!" Galain exclaimed. The captain nodded and pulled his blade free of the dying man. Galain quickly gripped his sword hilt again and pulled, succeeding in freeing it. Quickly wiping it off he gripped his companions hand.

"Where's Jesslyn?" Galain still remembered his charge from Laurel.

Herebrand turned and pointed to a body several paces off. It was indeed Jesslyn, turned in a fashion so that the Elf couldn't recognize her from his vantage.

"I saw her fall, then saw you quite set upon." The Captain put a hand on Galain's shoulder and gripped it. "She went out a warrior."

"Perhaps it wasn't her way," Galain said softly. "Come, others are in need."

[Taralphiel]

Herebrand and Ohtaredan

Herebrand made his sprint across the quickly dispersing flood of Wild Men and allies of Alphirion. He felt a little numb as he planted his blade in the belly of a falling Wild Man. He saw the fair face of the Elf Galain, and straightened. He would have cried in victory, but he had no words.

Ohtaredan puffed alongside him, his sword hanging limply, but his eyes darting about like a panicked fox. Herebrand stood and spoke to Galain:

"She went out a warrior."

The words did little coming from his mouth, he knew. Seeing the crumpled frame of the young woman was almost too much for him to bear. And so he moved over and gently turned her, lifting her dirt stained face. He held out one arm and called for water, and Ohtaredan faithfully brought him some. He cleaned her face as well as he could, and with her rough hands lay her on a board lined with a rich red cloth Ohtaredan had quickly snatched from the Wild Kings tent.

He looked over her closed eyes and stood, with the men of his army standing beside him. But naught could pass through his mind but what this young woman gave for this land.

~*~

Annunfuin

Annunfuin looked about the battlefield, calling out for Laurel. He scoured the bodies and found none of whom he knew. Squinting across the clearing, he saw the men of Rohan gathered in small groups.

Running over as fast as he could, he skid to a stop when he saw a young woman laid at their feet. Seeing Jesslyn's face made him wish to weep. She was a brave young woman. Annunfuin had seen her rush headlong into the battle, and marveled at the strength of someone who had only been taught to handle her blade weeks before.

Upon scouring the faces of the group he said 'Where is Laurel? And Cartil? And what of Leena and the other Elves?'

Men shook their heads and he looked around for any place they could have gone. A murmur came from the side of a tent, and he rushed to see Captain Gellick of Gondor lying on a stretcher. He was bleeding from the shoulder, and his face looked on the door of Mandos.

'I saw...Cartil...running...' he whispered, and pointed to the trees. Annunfuin took his sword and headed in that direction. Turning back he said:

'Do not worry, I will return soon with them both!'

[Taralphiel]

Laurel

Laurel fought down frustration and panic. She felt the dagger jabbing at her throat and wished she could save herself. Her feet scrambled backwards as she was lead through the deep trees.

Cuor was ever mumbling in her ears, most of the time inaudible phrases in Elven. Though when he prodded her with the blade, she listened to his words.

"I was given nothing in my life. All was pain and darkness. But you have been my one light, my Lady. And so I shall have that light forever. We shall rule this place together. We shall be happy in the forest sanctuary, built by your family. Is that not a wonderful life? Is it not?"

Laurel didnt even want to open her mouth

"Your grandmother will not allow this. She is too defiant. Where would a simple roving wench learn such a quality! No matter, I have you and she will see to my wishes if she values your life. It pains me to use such methods, but she will leave me no other choice!"

"You leave yourself no other choice!" Laurel stammered

She felt his body twitch, and she held her eyes shut, hoping his rage would not end her.

"You will understand me soon, my dearest Laurel. You will understand me and love me as dear as that pitiful excuse for a boy that dotes on you! And he...he will suffer when I get my hands on him, if a Wild Man has not already"

"You know not of his valour and devotion" said Laurel hoarsley "Had you known, you would have fled there and then! I trust in his strength!"

Looking down, she could see the path at her feet. She knew now that he was leading her back to the House. She grew more panicked. She could not let him get there, but she saw no way in which she could avoid it.

She suddenly bumped into him as he halted, and felt his free hand grab tighter at her wrist. He snaked rope about her, growling as he tried to tie it with only one hand. Quickly he let the blade down to tie her wrists, and Laurel immideately let out a shriek that pealed through the forest.

She kicked backwards, and tried to get distance from him. Her hands were loosely secured together and she shook her arms violently to get them free and keep balance. It did not take Cuor long at all, and he thrust the heel of his boot onto her back.

Laurel fell roughly, and Cuor grabbed her and spun her around. Looming over her, his eyes were darkened, and his shadowed face was crazed and mad. The dagger appeared again at her chest, and she turned her face from him.

"You musnt try that again my dear Laurel, or I will have little choice but to do away with you completely. I would rather live in darkness and have my life you see..."

[Kryssal]

Gorath had missed a shot at the wildman Jesslyn was fighting with and was sighting his second shot when he heard the arrow coming for him. He had been so intent on hitting his target that he narrowed all his senses.

The dark Elf immediately shifted toward the trunk, but he was too late. The arrow struck in his side with such force that he lost his footing and fell twisting still to one side. He held tightly onto his bow, which was what saved him from the entire fall to the ground. It caught lengthwise against two branches. In the lashback of stopping suddenly Gorath lost his grip on the bow, but in the second it happened he was able to gain his surroundings and spread his feet so that he would catch one of the larger branches just to his side.

The impact of landing on such a small space jarred his whole body and fire darts lanced up from where the arrow stuck out of his body. It hadn't gone all the way through and the feathered end had been broken off in the fall, causing the wound to rip up with the arrow as it broke. He was loosing a lot of blood, but couldn't take the arrow out himself without causing much more damage.

A noise made Gorath's ears prick up and his head snapped around to find the source. Two wildmen were running toward his position while another was sighting him with another arrow. Gorath quickly got behind the tree to avoid the arrow and glanced up at his bow just above him. The wood had split and the bow was useless. He was still a good way up in the tree and the wildmen would have to climb to him.....except for that bowman. Snatching out a dagger he slid up as far as he could against the trunk. He would have to do this without getting hit by the arrow that was undoubtably still trained on his spot. Gorath took a deep breath then whipped into view and launched his dagger. He had held onto the trunk with his other hand and now pulled with all his might to get back into cover. He had heard the release of the arrow and as he retreated to his former spot he saw it spiral past him at the same time he heard a cry and thud. His dagger had hit mark.

There were still two more wildmen coming. Grunting he looked down at them. One was starting to climg the tree, the other was throwing badly aimed poisoned darts at him that never came close. They need more training. The Elf thought briefly before moving to jump to another tree.

Lets keep them on the groung while I find help. He knew that he couldn't take them both on. All he had left was his sword and one short knife which he preferred to keep. Moving between the trees would take longer than usual, but he could still keep a pace, even with an arrow in his side.

That arrow will only make me weaker. I need help quickly...

~*~

Leena was still battle lusting. She had killed many of the wildmen, as had her group. There were almost no enemies left... and she still wanted one.

She heard a cry off toward the east side of the camp and she immediately started off for it. After a few minutes of light jogging she came upon a cluster of tents. She slowed and crept towards the first one. Wild men could be in any of them. Three of the seven had the flaps closed. Her breath rasped in her throat as her chest creaked.

She had many cuts and once when a wildman had stomped on her chest she thought that some of her ribs might have cracked. They certainly felt like they were broken, but pain was nothing and discarded.

The priestess was almost upon the first tent when it exploded out on her and she found herself set upon by one wildman. She clashed blades and smiled viciously as he pushed her back a step. With a shove into his sword the wildman made her sidestep and she saw into tent where another wildman sat with a small tube in his mouth. Her eyes widened and a burst of anger escaped in a yell as the dart entered her.

She was dead.

But not yet. Swinging in a huge arch that let her opponent hit her side armor and cut through to draw blood she swept down and sliced through his head.

In the distance she heard a yell that sounded like her name, but that wasn't important anymore.

The wildman in the tent, who was more a glorified boy than anything, was terrified. He had a short sword and held it in front of him in a sort of lame defense. He didn't put up any kind of fight and she ran him through in her initial run.

Trying to come out of the tent her leg buckled and she fell across the way.

~*~

There were no wildmen in sight anymore, only vague calls in the distance. Annanodolwen and Lanaey were struggling to help the wounded. Some died in their arms and others would survive.

There was a closer cry than most and Annanodolwen glanced around. She saw a female cut down a wildman and turn toward a tent she was by. The scholarly Elf recognized the warrior.

"Leena!" She yelled across the grounds causing Lanaey and a few other soldiers that were helping to turn and glance.

They saw her rush into the tent. Lanaey immediately stood up and started running toward her friend, unsheathing her sword yet again. As Lanaey came up to the tent, almost gasping from the pain her body was flooding her with, she saw Leena collapse in the entrance of the tent.

"Check those tents in teams!" She called to the eight soldiers that had followed her run.

Lanaey fell to Leena's side and held her head. A foam was starting in the priestess' mouth and she jerked as a fish on land. Annanodolwen came up to them out of breath and went to the ground as well, looking over Leena's form. The dart wasn't hard to find, sticking viciously out of the neck. Lanaey was only looking into Leena's eyes so Annanodolwen reached over and gently pulled it out. It wouldn't make a difference.

"I...I killed them..." blood seeped from Leena's mouth as she tried to speak.

Lanaey nodded and patted her shoulder, though she doubted the dying woman felt the touch. The poison would be fire throughout her body.

"You avenged Thagon. Go with peace and join your Knight." Lanaey's eyes stayed locked with Leena's and soon her body stopped jerking. Annanodolwen leaned over and kissed the still face while Lanaey closed the lids.

"I'm sorry lady," a soldier had come upon them. "But -"

Lanaey stood up violently cutting off the man. Suddenly she started running toward the trees with Annanodolwen calling after her.

~*~

Herebrand had started giving orders to his men about helping the wounded and searching out for any wildmen left when Galain's mind snapped at him. Spinning he stared into the trees where his brother had been. He was no where in sight. Quickly scanning the surrounding trees he saw two wildmen running on the ground heading east. Looking just up and in front he saw his brother struggling to move through the trees. The wildmen were gaining.

Pushing several soldiers aside he started running as fast as he could toward his brother. Even from this distance Galain could see the blood spills. Behind him Ohtaredan grabbed Herebrand's arm and started after.

~*~

Deigeth had his eyes locked upon the Elf in the trees above him. It wouldn't be long until he stopped or fell and this brought Deigeth great pleasure. He had never had the priveledge of killing an Elf before. The town and cause was lost, but this was his. Most of the allies were done fighting and too preoccupied to notice them in the treeline. The wildman felt as safe and secure as he could considering enemies were all around, but he would make this last kill and escape to other ventures. There were always gangs in cities that he could join.

The Elf was almost done. He looked as if he would fall at any moment.

Suddenly his partner cried out and started sprinting toward the thick of the forest. Glancing around he saw too many enemies. For a moment he was frozen, then he brought his blade up against another male Elf while a female Elf streaked past them several paces away. Deigeth was focused on parrying with the Elf before him, but he heard the death cry of his former companion and knew he was by himself. It didn't take long for even that companion to die.

~*~

Annanodolwen cried after Lanaey, then saw what she was running toward. One of the dark brothers was set upon by two wildmen in the trees. Calling to the soldiers that were able around her she ran as fast as she could after them, but she was almost spent.

More runners were coming from the side and the scholarly Elf recognized the other dark brother with Herebrand, Ohtaredan and a small host of men behind him.

Lanaey ran down the wildman that had started to flee and sliced his back open. As he fell crying out she pinned him to the ground with her sword running completely through. It didn't take the body long to stop juttering.

Galain, Annanodolwen could now make out, parred four hits with the wildman before the wildman tried to push him away and run. He had seen the host of soldiers coming. Galain kept step with the man though and soon had an opening from the panic ridden man. With a quick slice Galain cut him open and kicked him down. The wildman couldn't move anymore and would die quickly, but Galain now ignored him and called up to his brother. Gorath fell and hit the ground on his back, unconscious.

Annanodolwen was now there and went down to him. She saw the arrow and all the blood first.

"Take off his leather!" Galain stripped it as fast as he could. Annanodolwen went to his back as the soldiers came upon them. "Herebrand, hold him up like this. Now Galain, break off the rest of the feathered end and push it through."

The unconscious Elf made no sound as the arrow punched through his skin and came out the back. Annanodolwen grabbed the offending object and pulled it out. She looked up for another person to yell at only to have Ohtaredan already holding the cloth out to her. She snatched it and started pressing against the wound, Galain doing the same on the other side. They bound him and she checked his pulse.

"It is not as strong as it should be, but he should be fine if we can get him medicine and water. It was below the lung....I think it missed important organs. He needs cleaning so infection won't set in."

Herebrand called for horses and the men quickly had a makeshift stretcher bound between two horses. Galain went with his brother to the House. He knew enough to keep his brother alive.

"Come ladies," Herebrand called to the Elven women. "There are others who need help."

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil followed the tracks of Cuor and Laurel until he came to a thin line of foliage that seperated him from a struggle going on between the Wild Man and Laurel. Cartil supressed the urge to leap out and kill the man on the spot, waiting for the right time to strike. Cartil watched as the two struggled for a moment, holding his dagger and sword with a death-like grip.

"You musnt try that again my dear Laurel, or I will have little choice but to do away with you completely. I would rather live in darkness and have my life you see..."

That was it. Hearing Cuor say such things to Laurel made Cartil snap and lose all his patience and ability to wait calmly. He leaped out of the brush, swinging his blade blindly. It was lucky he only grazed Cuor's arm and did not hit Laurel in any way. This move and attack surprised Cuor into springing away and shoving Laurel forcefully out of his way.

Cartil wanted to see that Laurel was all right and that she was unharmed by Cuor, but his attention soon returned to the Wild Man. He'd recovered from his shock at the sudden attack, and moved to lung at his original attacker. Cartil blocked the blow of Cuor's blade, but just barely. Cuor was so much bigger, and Cartil was losing hope and vigor even during that first strike.

Taking one spare second to drop both his daggers to the ground behind him where Laurel was, Cartil hoped that Laurel would take the weapons and leave Cuor to him. Going back to his fight with Cuor, Cartil put all his strength into the next offensive strike. The results amazed Cartil, for Cuor was pushed back into a nearby tree. However, this only made Cuor more angry and ferocious. Cartil's enemy fought back twice as hard...

[Taralphiel]

Laurel heaved herself up and watched as Cartil attacked Cuor. She picked up the daggers that Cartilhad left her, and sawhim push Cuor further towards the end of the mossy path. But Cuor was unpredictable, and make a strong lunge forward, forcing Cartil back. Laurel felt her panic rise. She did not know what the Elf would do next. Her feet compelled her forward as Cartil struggled on.

Her hands twitched as Cuor threw his strength into his blade and Cartil deflected it deftly. Her heart seemed in her throat, and her fear was the only thing keeping her awake. Then came Cuor's move. He tripped Cartil by knocking his left ankle, and swiping at the other. Falling with a great thud, Cuor smiled and raised his hand. Laurel had little time to think.

The dagger flew and hit him in the chest. His eyes became clouded, and he dropped to his knees. Laurel scrambled to Cartil's side, but she watched Cuor struggle to breathe.

"You...betrayed me my dearest...how could you?"

Laurel felt her joints give up on her and she slumped to the floor. She watched as his dark eyes stopped twitching, and turned from their focus on her.

"It's done. I feel so tired" she mumbled. She rested her arms about Cartil's shoulders.

"I want to go home Cartil. Do you think we can make it there?"

He nodded, and they slowly got to their feet and turned from his body. They were almost in the trees when they heard a great yell...

~*~

Annunfuin saw the Elf turn and grab a long blade. He did not understand what was happening, but the gurgling laughter was enough to make him act. He sprinted, and thrust his blade through the Elf's back. He coughed blood, and fell dead.

Laurel turned and her eyes went wide with fear. Annunfuin stepped over Cuor's body and embraced Laurel:

"You are safe now. We wont let you get hurt again"

He gave a knowing smile to Cartil, and took the boy by the shoulder.

"I am sure that Taralphiel will wish to see us all..."

Watching Laurel's tried face, he saw a flash of Jesslyn. He then felt a great lump in his throat.

"But first...we have to go back to the battlefield..."

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil nodded, taken slightly aback by the sudden change of tone and subject. But the young man shrugged this off and let Laurel put her arm around his neck so that he could support her as they walked. The three companions walked away from Cuor's dead body, and Cartil did not regret leaving the beast there.

But soon, Cartil knew that it would be back to a battlefield, back to a world of hatred and bloodshed; a world of hope and pride. Cartil both loved and hated battle. It showed a side of beings that would never be shown under any other circumstances. It showed death that left lasting ache in the hearts of those left behind. Still, there were always reasons for fighting in the world, it seemed.

The battlefield was emptying as Laurel, Cartil, and Annunfuin left the guard of foliage. Wild Men scattered, and the people of Alphirion cheered without care. Cartil looked to Laurel's face, and saw a smile so relieved and so happy that could not be found any other way. Cartil brushed some of Laurel's long brown hair away and whispered in her ear. "Laurel, your people are safe, thanks to you."

Laurel smiled, but the smile faltered as she saw the bodies strewn about the battlefield. The people of Alphirion and the warriors that had died were mixed with the dead of the Wild Men. It was not proper, Cartil knew, to leave the courageous of Alphirion to rot with the likes of the Wild Men.

"Collect the bodies of the honorable dead," Cartil cried, calming the cheering warriors and townsfolk. "Let them rest seperate from those that terrorized them for so long..."

"Cartil," Annunfuin began, but his voice stopped before he could continue. Instead he pointed to a board laden with rich maroon cloth that was haphazardly placed outside the Wild King's tent. Cartil gently let go of Laurel and went to the board, seeing a body on it.

"No..." Cartil murmured before he'd even been able to see who was lying on the makeshift stretcher. He ran the rest of the way and dropped to his knees, brushing wispy black hair from the face of the fallen. He did not need to see the face to even confirm that it was indeed his sister. It was Jesslyn, his baby sister. Cartil's little sister was dead on the battlefield. It was certainly not her time, and Cartil's mind rushed with questions. What had happened? Why not him? Why Jesslyn? Who had killed her?

Cartil could not answer any of the questions. He could not weep. He was too overwhelmed to do much of anything. All he could do was take her small, cold, and lifeless hand in his and hold her. It was all he could do to keep from whimpering, but Cartil continued to think that it would be unmanly. But it was his little sister...it occurred to Cartil that he'd never see her grey-green eyes again, or see her smile.

"Goodbye, Jess."

[Taralphiel]

Laurel headed for the clearing that had been the field of war. She faltered when she saw the mass of men lain around on the flattened ground. She had to lean further on Cartil to keep herself steady. But then she saw the cheering of teh victorious, and the trampled flags and standards of the Wild Men. Then she saw a great dream coming true, and her smile could not be kept back.

She heard Cartils voice whisper softly to her: "Laurel, your people are safe, thanks to you."

Laurel did not answer to him, but smiled and let the feeling well up inside her. Lettting herself enjoy the freedom she now had.

But the joy did not last very long. Annunfuin stopped and looked at a board laid on the ground with someone placed atop it. Cartil rushed toward it, and dropped to the ground.

Laurel followed quickly behind and looked upon the woman placed there. Jesslyn's face was pale but peaceful. But Laurel could not help but let the tears roll over her cheeks.

She knelt by Cartil and said to him

"I am so sorry Cartil. I can say no more to you. I know how much pain you are feeling..."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, not sure of how he would react to her words. She watched as he held her hand, and thought to herself:

'You were the closest to a sister I have ever had Jesslyn. I wish you peace forever. You deserve such a thing...'

~*~

Annunfuin stood by the two, watching them weep for Jesslyn. It grieved him more than he would tell anyone. He had hoped Laurel's pain would end, and that she would be given a life of happiness. But pain still came to her.

'She will have a better life now. Jesslyn's death will not be forgotten, and her spirit will watch the happiness that came from her sacrifice. The people of this land will enjoy their freedom all the more for the people who died it'

And so Annunfuin stood there and waited for the two to stand, so he could escort them to the Lady Taralphiel.

[Kryssal]

A messenger was sent to the caves to tell the villagers hiding there of the victory. There would be no more war here for years to come, if ever again. The bodies of the dead fighters were taken to the Lady Taralphiel's House where they were laid together until their graves could be dug. Wounded soldiers and wearied fighters took up these charges and by the time the villagers from the caves reached the House all of the dead were waiting in reverence and half of the graves dug. Many of the villagers, young and old helped to dig the last of the graves and moved the liberators to their resting place within the land that they had saved. Markers were made for each one and later letters would be written to go to the families of each. Most of these duties were carried out in silence. When all the dead were buried Taralphiel called for everyone who was able to be gathered at the head of the burial ground.

[Kryssal]

Another task was done for Lanaey. Another battle fought and won, and always, many had died. She had seen Leena die in her arms and that struck her a bit. It reminded her of how she felt when her son had died, and the feeling was horrible. However, it would be overcome, as it always was.

When she brought back her first charge of wounded the Elf had taken the time to stop and visit with Gorath. He was conscious and they spoke for a few minutes before she said that she had to go back out and help with bringing in the dead.

"Wait," Galain had stalled her. "I'll come help."

No smiles or words passed as they went out and rode back to the wildmen's camp to gather their comrades in arms.

~*~

Annanodolwen was one of the best healers around and she went around from one injured person to the next. Her mind had no time to think of anything else, it just focused on the task ahead, the next blade wound, the next unconscious.

Eventually she got them all so that they were able to move to the House safely and with the last of the wounded departing, she went with them.

When she got to the House she saw the small rows of bodies that had started. The rounds of bringing back the dead were just started. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head toward a patient. When she opened her eyes she found that the human she was looking at was staring at the bodies and crying.

Through the rest of the day she went with the other healers around and around, doing what they could in turn. Those that were going to die were given what comfort could be provided, but that number was few. Most would be able to get out of bed within the weeks end.

Midday was approaching as Lanaey found her resting against a wall.

~*~

Once all of the defenders bodies had been taken out of the battle field Lanaey had asked for a few volunteers to stay behind to burn the wildmen. Galain and around seven other men stayed. First they gathered several of the tents and piled them in an open area. Going through the ground in teams it took them the better part of the morning to get all the bodies into the pile. There were far more dead wildmen than defenders, a small consolation to the Elf.

Eventually they had gathered all of the dead in that one area and started the fire that grew quickly along the clothing. The stench rose and was horrid. Thankfully the wind was blowing away from the village and House. The villagers didn't need to be reminded again.

Galain offered to stay behind and make sure the fire didn't get out of hand. There was hardly any chance of that, but it was needed.

As Lanaey and the rest of the men went to return to the House she saw Galain start a slow walk around the town.

~*~

"They'll be having a service for the dead soon. They want to get it behind them," Lanaey said, causing Annanodolwen's eyes to snap open at the speach directed at her.

"Many of the wounded would want to be there..." she trailed off, staring at a wall as if to see through it.

Lanaey nodded. "This is a general one.... Families and friends will have small, separate ones in a week or so."

"Where were they all buried?" The scholarly Elf once again closed her eyes and let her head sag against the wall once more.

"There was a large patch of earth just beyond the house. They dug all the graves there while women made them markers. All the dead are in the ground and everyone is gathering. Taralphiel called it, she wants to give the service I suppose, though I would imagine she would give it over to those who wanted to speak." Lanaey passed on her small knowledge and guesses of the upcoming service.

Annanodolwen opened her eyes again and saw Lanaey's hand. She grabbed it and heave herself off of the floor. She felt as an ancient human, but knew it was all due to the days events. The two Elven women quietly made their way outdoors.

[Taralphiel]

Rudhchamion

The Elf stood by the aged Taralphiel and watched her as he had done early in her life. But this time he watched as the bodies of those who had died in the battle were taken to be buried. He noted that among them were a few that lead the armies. He saw both Lady Lenna and Sir Thagon of Gondor had perished in fighting for Alphirion's safety. He was sure that this would be lamented.

The Lady Taralphiel said something slowly, as if rousing her throat to speech "I want you to bring my granddaughter to me Rudhchamion" she said "I fear for her and I want her to be here as we farewell the last"

Rudhchamion nodded and strode into the forest. He faced all the men bringing the dead or injured to the House, and he faced their battered faces that were glowing with pride in one moment, and contorted with pain the next. He had seldom seen something so Mortal, and as the lines of people were lost to his sight, he was glad.

Soon his senses sharpened to the forest, and he picked up someone following him from the House early in his long walk. But he made no movements. He understood that if they were following him, then he was not the target. They were after Laurel, was his deduction. And so he lead the person on, waiting for their mistake to bring their downfall.

The clearing came, and the smell of battle met his nose sharply. The burning had begun, and most had left. But there knelt two figures by a board of wood, and another standing over them. It was Laurel, Cartil and Annunfuin. He felt relief that Laurel was alive, but his view was blocked as to who was laid there.

His ears pricked as his follower made their move. He made a sharp cry to the three, then turned and brought out his bow. A dagger flew from the trees and missed the fleeing Laurel. But Rudhchamions arrow, the only he fired in the Great Last Siege on the Wild Men, hit its mark.

Gita, servant of the Wild King, fell from the trees.

~*~

Laurel


Laurel saw Rudhchamion fell a Wild Man and crouched to stop her pounding heart. She had had to throw Cartil forward to miss the blade, and Annunfuin was walking over to the Elf's side. Laurel stood up, and looked at the woman. She recognised her as one who had worked in the Village, in the Baths and in the House of Healing.

"This is our spy. That she should be the last to fall is some fate"

Rudhchamion turned to Laurel and said "The Lady Taralphiel wants you to come home. She wishes you to rest, and help honour the dead." The Elf then saw the body of Jesslyn and said,

"Annunfuin and I shall carry her there. You care for Cartil" Annunfuin nodded and moved to pick up the board.

Laurel knelt again by Cartil, who looked numb with shock

"Please, let me take you to some comfort. I want you to rest. Will you come with me?"

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel

A breeze swept through the house, brought from the Sea closeby. It swept out the stench of blood, and lured the people to the House of Taralphiel as she stood to speak.

The old woman looked over the small group standing there. Her eyes strained before she saw Laurel walk into the clearing. She had Cartil by her side, and Rudhchamion and Annunfuin following close behind. Taralphiel smiled and raised her voice:

"We have shed many a tear and mourned. Now it shall be the end of this time. I am an old woman, and I rejoice in being able to bury the last of those dead at the hands of those that would seek to take away our freedom. There were all too many..."

"I thank with all I have those who came from places afar, and died so we might have this moment. I pray that the banners flying in their homes will be lifted higher in their memory this day"

Taralphiel looked at the worn troops of the Rohirrim and of Gondor, and raised a hand to them

"I bid you return home in peace when you have rested and ained strength. Remember forever that we find you welcome here and owe you a great debt"

Taralphiel turned to the side and saw the sun glittering over the Ocean.

"We have our hope back. We have our freedom. May we never forget who gave it to us!"

Rudhchamion

The Elf waited till Taralphiel had finished speaking, and left Laurel's side. He moved quickly into the House, and soon found Gorath. Standing beside him he said:

"I am releieved you are well. I saw your brother on the field and came to look. You will be well again soon..."

Gorath nodded slowly

"Then it will soon be time. This place no longer needs our help"

The Elf left the House and stood by Taralphiel, who was watching Laurel and Cartil head for rest.

"I am very proud of her. We would not have this success without her"

"And you should account it to yourself as well Lady"

"I suppose" smiled Taralphiel "But all that doesnt matter any more, does it?"

[Kryssal]

Annanodolwen looked at Lanaey when Taralphiel had finished. "I should check through the sick again. I may be needed."

"You may," responded the warrior Elf. "But do not forget about yourself. These past few days tax even an Elf greatly and you need some rest."

Annanodolwen just walked back to the House, not commenting. Lanaey sighed, then went to where the horses were kept. She found one that was relatively strong and not tired from the previous day. She mounted and rode bare back to the former wild men's camp carrying a small shovel and some rope.

The stench was horrid, but the burning was almost complete. Lanaey slowed the horse to a mild walk and wound her way to where she first entered the fray. Soon she found Drass, lying in her death. Dismounting she her temporary mount nibble some grass nearby and went to her horse, planting the shovel in the ground nearby and laying the rope next to it. Flies were already buzzing around and most ignored the Elf, preferring the rotting meat.

Lanaey didn't take the saddle itself, she always left that with each horse she had. She did take the saddle bags and such stored on it, for those would be needed.

Then she began to dig. It was nearing sun down when Galain came over and took the shovel from her to start digging. They didn't say anything and Lanaey sat ruffly on the ground, breathing heavily. She had been digging through very hard dirt, but it was the only option. It would have been much harder to drag Drass to softer dirt and Lanaey wouldn't leave her horse out here to be scavenged.

Galain finished up the hole that Lanaey had already made most of, and fetched the rope. It was a good length and they tied it around Drass' saddle, legs and neck. The ends that were out they tied around a large branch. Lanaey fetched the horse she had brought and they placed the branch across its front chest. Then the Elves on either side pushed with all their might and with a bit of prodding the horse went with them. After several moments of dragging, Drass fell into the hole next to her. Once the legs where in the hole as well, Lanaey patted her temporary mount to let it know it could stop. They took the branch and put it in the hole next to Drass and Lanaey grabbed the shovel and started dumping the dirt back in. Galain traded off with her frequently and they finished just as darkness was truly setting in.

They both mounted the horse Lanaey had brought in and rode slowly back to the House. They took the horse back to where the others were kept and told one of the watchers to give him a good rub down.

Gorath was their next destination. The Elf was awake and just laying there, staring out a window in one wall. He nodded as they entered.

"Rudhchamion says he is to leave soon and desires us to go with him." Gorath never was one to dawdle in idle conversation.

Galain nodded at the words; they were expected. Then he looked at Lanaey. "Have you decided what you are to do yet?"

She thought for a moment before answering, "I think I'll stay here for a good while yet. They could still use my help."

There was silence again and Lanaey was reminded of how the two dark brothers never really talked. "Well," the she-Elf spoke again. "If you have nothing to do in forty years or so, come back and visit. I'm sure Laurel would delight in it, and maybe then I'll be ready to move on. Perhaps visit the northland."

She smiled at the two and Gorath nodded while Galain smiled back. Galain promised he would not forget.

"So," said a voice from the door. "You would stay for forty years among the humans?" Annanodolwen smiled in at them.

"I guess I've just committed myself," Lanaey spoke as she sat down gingerly in a chair, very conscious of her wounds and sore muscles.

"I could not do such a thing. I miss my studies, though a visit in forty years for a couple of months might be nice. Especially around the spring time. It'll be stunning beautiful here, I'm sure. After the land has healed."

"We can take you back to your studies if you wish," Gorath spoke from his bed.

Annanodolwen nodded. "I'd like that."

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil and Laurel went off, seeking rest. The silence was slightly awkward, for Cartil's mind and thoughts were amiss and inconsistant with the loss of his sister and the sudden end of battle. Laurel was exhausted, and Cartil could see it in her eyes though she tried to hide it.

"Where will you go, now that everything has ended?" Laurel asked quietly as the two stopped and took a rest on one of the stone benches in the courtyard. The plants were ruined, blood had been spilt on some, and dirt was caked all over the stepping stones.

"If it does not bother you, Laurel," Cartil began, thinking as he went along. "I think I shall stay here. I've seen enough bloodshed to last me a few years at least," he paused and chuckled at this. "And I do not think I could go home for long without feeling strange. It would be strange living in a place where I had not been for so long, and being near all the things Jesslyn once loved and lived."

"So you will stay here, with me?" Laurel asked to clarifly.

"Yes, I think I will stay here with you."

[Kryssal]

The dark Elves and Annanodolwen were going to leave in two days and there was work to be done.

The first thing that Laurel and Cartil did was put Jesslyn in a coffin for transport back to her home town. All the villagers had put in small flowers that had started to sprout around the forest edge.

The people had to get back to their village and start rebuilding. They needed food and material. While the able bodied village men did most of the lifting and work at their settlement, Lanaey, Galain, Rudhchamion and a select few villagers, including two young boys that Lanaey had started training as hunters, went out to find game. They found enough to keep the settlement good for several days and then it was time for the four Elves to leave.

Annanodolwen frowned at them. "I still think that Gorath needs some more healing time."

Rudhchamion glanced over from packing his horse. This was a now old conversation. "It'll be a simple ride. Besides, he has you to tend if he needs anything."

Lanaey laughed and put a placating hand on the scholarly Elf's shoulder. "Do not worry, they won't let him fall."

Laurel came up and gave Annanodolwen a huge hug while Taralphiel went to give Rudhchamion a hug. The two spoke quietly while Laurel went to the brothers and gave them hugs as well, Galain a strong one and Gorath a gentle one.

"Thank you so much for helping and sacrificing so much for us," her voice sounded a little wavy, but her eyes showed no signs of tears.

Gorath spoke first. "It was an honor. I will remember this town for always."

Galain nodded and Annanodolwen patted Laurel on the arm. "Lead them well, so all we gave continues to mean something."

Laurel giggled and nodded. Cartil went around and shook all their hands as Taralphiel followed with her own double handshakes.

Before Lanaey could stop to think Annanodolwen had her in a hug. The warrior Elf quickly embraced her back. As the broke apart Lanaey's eyes were too moist for her comfort and she blinked furiously. Moving toward the dark brothers she said, "Now, don't you forget. In forty years exactly," and she gave them hugs as well. When she pulled away from Galain she wiped at her eyes.

"We won't forget," Galain promised again.

Lanaey and Rudhchamion simply exchanged nods, but they didn't know each other as well as the others.

Then they were all mounted and Rudhchamion started off with Gorath and Annanodolwen following. Galain moved over to Lanaey and handed her down a small pouch. "For your wounds. Mix a pinch of the powder with a goblet of water and apply every night before you go to bed." He squeezed her hand and then galloped to catch up with his departing companions.

Lanaey looked in the pouch and saw a small ring at the top of the powder. It looked to be made by an amature and she guessed that Galain had made it himself sometime back. She gently blew the powder off of the dark silver. It was much too dark to be normal silver, but Lanaey had never seen the material before and couldn't name it. It was beautiful though, and etched around the band were ancient Elven words that she preferred to keep to herself.

Lanaey, Laurel, Cartil and Taralphiel waited until the four were out of sight.

"So," Taralphiel spoke, "I hear you plan on staying among us for some time Lady Lanaey."

Lanaey turned and looked at the three. Laurel was leaning into Cartil's embrace a bit and all three were looking at her. She nodded and was about to speak when Laurel started.

"Good. Would you like to be in charge of our security?"

Lanaey laughed. "Sure. I'd also like to continue teaching hunting if you don't mind," she winked at the young maiden.

"Naturally. Well, what were you planning on doing these next few weeks specifically?" Laurel continued.

Lanaey considered. "I'm going to get a volunteer group to go with me for scavenging from the camp and then destroying the rest of it."

Taralphiel nodded. "A very sound plan of action," she glanced at her granddaughter. "Laurel and Cartil are going to take Jesslyn back to her home. They'll also have to make a detour for Cartil to give news of Leena and Thagon's death. I was wondering if you'd help me run the place while they're gone."

Lanaey walked over and hugged the two soon to be travelers. "Of course I will, and when you get back we can plan a joining ceremony."

Laurel blushed furiously and sputtered a bit, which made Taralphiel and Lanaey both laugh heartily.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel

Embracing Rudchamion slowly, she smiled.

"It seems we have survived another adventure. I am glad, very glad"

Rudchamion nodded, and didnt change his expression

"I will return some day perhaps. I will not forget what happened here. It will live long in the memories of many people."

"Less so in mine, my friend. I shall not be around much longer you know" Taralphiel grinned. Rudhchamion nodded a little before saying:

"Farewell Lady Taralphiel. I will meet you again" and he spurred his horse on.

~*~

Annunfuin

Standing in the garden, though there was still a buzz of excitement, he could see the calm begin to rise. The slim white heastones still glowed in the afternoon sun, and he looked upon the resting places of Thagon and Leena

"I will be loath to break this news, but I will do it for thee" he murmured.

"And you shall accompany my granddaughter to see Cartil's family?' Taralphiel spoke as she made her way to his side

"Of course. I heard Lanaey teasing Laurel again after you returned. I wish to see that joining ceremony, and then I ride back to my home"

Taralphiel moved a little further off, and placed a worn hand upon one of the oldest of the stones in the garden

" He will wish you to take his place, to hand his daugher away as if she was yours. It will make her very happy"

"Aye, Im sure it will. It will ease my old sould very much"

"Then it is so" smiled Taralphiel

They both stood silently watching the sun change the colour of the leaves and the sea breeze move in, thinking of the great days to come and the happiness they could now afford.

~*~

Laurel

Laurel could not stop the peace and quiet from making her smile. While nurses still bustled around, taking care of her grandfather Havlor, she still could not help but want to sing for joy.

She stood leaning against the pillars at the back of the hose, looking at the waves over the great ocean. Cartil stood beside her and they said nothing to each other, only grasping stray glances. Laurel watched him stare at the gulls flying by, and the stray whisps of black hair fly around his eyes. Turning away she heard a familiar voice:

"I saw that missy! I never knew you could stare at someone so adoringly! My, what a change!"

Laurel almost jumped out of her clothes when she saw Havlor slowly move towards her, leaning heavily on a staff.

"Grandfather!" she cried and embraced him

"Indeed! Did ye think me bedridden even in victory! Nay, I wanted to walk and talk with the men who fought so hard. Especially you young fellow!" he said, nodding towards at flabberghasted Cartil.

Laurel laughed until she ached and watched her grandfather question Cartil. She was glad he took this all very well, and turned to see her grandmother Rivwyn just behind the curtains, watching with tears in her eyes.

Looking back at the sky, she said out loud:

"I wish many people who are not here could see this all. I do wish that very much. But they can see it. And I will live every day with that. I will be happy. It is the least I can do..."


~The End~

[Bêthberry]

~ ~ ~ To Elvenhome ~ ~ ~