On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[Gandalf_theGrey]

This thread is for the continuing adventures of those who have assembled to accompany Gandalf as he leaves the Prancing Pony. (Moridel, Meneli, Estelarion, Naaramare, Elenna and her oliphaunt ... oh my, this is going to be quite a challenge indeed, and Bethberry.) Along the road, we may well encounter various other people who might either join us, or otherwise provide a challenge to us.

[ June 18, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Elenna]

Elenna, extremely happy to be on the road again, walked up with Gandalf. Her horse, Celebdae, and Olorin the Oliphaunt walked behind her like obedient but oversized dogs. Occasionally, when she didn't seem to be paying either of them too much attention, she would feel a hard poke in the middle of her back from Olorin's trunk or Celebdae's nose. That was the signal to turn around and give the poker a hug.

"This is going to be a long road," Elenna commented to Gandalf after about the fiftieth time hugging the baby oliphaunt. "Where are we going, exactly?"

[Bêthberry]

Well, interesting for sure, laughed Bethberry, as she shifted her leather bag of herbs and plants to her other side, keeping it as far away from the oliphaunt's nose as possible, having already done this several times.

Perhaps little Olorin here thinks I'm playing hide and seek with my herbs, she said with a twinkling grin at her own expense.

[Naaramare]

Mithrandir's pointed comment about "adventure" aside, Naaramare felt better now than she had for a good while. Olorin the Oliphaunt kept making her giggle, for all the sound was horrifically undignified and it wasn't really fair.

"Do you think the little thing likes attention much, Elenna?" she asked, after another pause to give the oliphaunt a hug.

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"Ah, where are my manners? I had become so accustomed to 'Hedgemaid' that I'd forgotten I had any other name," Moridel smiled grimly, "But I am Moridel of the Dunedain. I hope to protect Eriador from evil, but thus far I'm not at all sure this is the best way to do it." Moridel glanced back at the giddy Elves and Oliphaunt. "'Tis passing strange, the Elves I am acquainted with are not half so boisterous." She sighed deeply, wishing for a moment for thought.

"Well, I suppose a bit of gaiety will do naught wrong for my spirits... even the most dedicated cannot be on alert every moment. I do wonder what brings so many Elves here at once, though. There's only one way to find out," Moridel finished, shifting her pack to her other shoulder and dropping back to talk to the nearest Elf.

She gave a deep nod, loose hair falling into her face, and addressed the Elf. "Mae govannen! What brings a host of your fair folk so far afield? Might aught be amiss in Eriador?" Most Men would not meet the gaze of an Elf, but Moridel's grey eyes looked steadily into the lamplike ones of the Elf.

[VanimaEdhel]

Meneli rides next to Moridel. When Moridel addressed her, she looked right back into Moridel's eyes.

"Aaye, Ranger. I am Menelduliniel and I come here of my own free will...somewhat. 'Tis a long, long sad tale, and 'tis not for me to burden you with. Too many have been saddened by my tale in time. So...what is your name, Ranger? And what brings you around these parts?"

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"I am Moridel, of the Dunedain. I seek only to protect Eriador," she said, taut lines appearing around her eyes. "This has been my pride and duty for many a long year, while evil creatures wax and our numbers wane. My life is one of many deeds and thoughts, yet little hope. Unless there is a way I do not see, Sauron's probing fingers shall find their way around the necks of the Dunedain ere long." Moridel's eyes narrowed, though her gaze held steady and she flinched not from this conviction, for it had lulled her to sleep each night and flavoured her every meal before many were aware of Sauron's might.

"But that is neither here nor there... I would know why there is such a gathering of Elves here, and whether their mission is also your own, if you are at leisure to share such with me. The life of the Fair Folk is a pleasant one; I have spent many sweet hours in their halls. Were I one, I think I should have little desire to leave those halls, though Eriador and her folk are dear indeed to me."

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel smiles at the Ranger, "They all have separate reasons from me for being here. Mine is to serve...exile I believe is the word. Exile for loving the wrong man. King Thranduil may be just, but he is not kind to those that he believes to have crossed him. Crossing Thranduil, I guess, is loving his son when Thranduil thinks of you as no more than a silly common Elf. And: I killed my old teacher...avenging the death of my friends, which she caused. Thranduil liked that trainer...but she was evil. She would have killed many more if I had let her. So: I was forced to flee...I doubt any of the others had the same experience. I only wish I knew how Legolas felt. I'm doing all this in the name of love for him, but he's off doing who knows what, so: I cannot ask him..."

Meneli sighed and looked deep into the Ranger's eyes.

[Naaramare]

Naaramare followed Meneli at a few paces distant and greeted the Ranger with a smile.

"What brings us here?" she mused aloud. "Entertainment, I suppose, distraction--selfish seeking, for me. Nothing so noble as protection of others."

Realizing how much like mockery that had to sound, she flushed. It came to her mind that she didn't used to be so awkward as this with language . . .but she could not remember how she knew, nor how she had been before.

No! No distractions of self-pity!

"I meant no offense," she hastened to add. "I meant what I said in honesty."

(OOC: Feadolena, I am amused. :: points to the name of her blog and your site-clique-thing: smilies/smile.gif

[ June 18, 2002: Message edited by: Naaramare ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

To answer Elenna's earlier question, * Gandalf said to the group, * where we're going exactly is the city of Tharbad. As you can see, we're taking a road called Andrath Greenway. The road's also known as South Greenway, logical since we're travelling South from Bree.

Now, we're not going directly to Tharbad. There'll be a fork in the road that veers off to the West and just slightly North. We'll follow this fork up to the Baranduin River, to a place called Sarn Ford. At Sarn Ford, I would like to confer with any Rangers we find there, just myself and the Hedgemaiden Moridel, and perhaps Bethberry. It's business that concerns Men rather than Elves, simply having to do with local safety.

If we make good time today, we'll be able to camp a good safe distance away from the Barrow Downs for the night.

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Bêthberry]

We keep to the Greenway, Gandalf? No going through the Old Forest? asked Bethberry as she hitched her pack and blanket roll higher on her back, under her violet cloak and looked over this unusual group of elves, wondering what she would learn of them on this journey.

Bethberry was not awed by the grandeur of elves as others were; nor did she feel contentment under their serenity. More often she felt a great sadness for them that with all their abilities they nonetheless seemed so filled with a longing for the past that they were unable to enjoy the present. Yet Gandalf had a knack for uncovering talent where it oft was hid.

Are you wanting us to move with stealth or do you want us to make our way known to all?

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf laughed outright, with good humor. * smilies/smile.gif Stealth, Bethberry? With a baby oliphaunt and all the rest of our merry band? Why, easier to disguise ourselves as an entertainment troupe of circus performers ... minstrels, dancers, singers, and magician. We're as conspicuous and noisy as a flock of crows descending on a cornfield!

As to passing through the Old Forest, it would be slower going even though a shortcut. Taking the most direct route, we'd be apt to disturb what peace belongs to the Barrows. But if any here would like to voice a strong preference for going through the Old Forest while skirting the Barrows, by all means you're welcome to speak. * looks around at the assembled travelers for their views *

[Feadolena Nolfare]

Moridel spoke up at once. "I agree with Gandalf," she said, "Thanks to the merry dwellers of the Old Forest," she cast an appreciative glance at Bethberry, "I think that evil would not dare to come there, or if it did, it would not stay long. Nay, 'twould be better to press on. Also, I am anxious to see what my colleagues at Tharbad have discovered. And I think none here are anxious to walk straight into the Barrow of a Wight," (ooc: haha! yeah right)

While waiting for the group to make its decision, she turned back to Naaramare. "No worries, I make a habit of taking things literally, unless there is good reason to do otherwise. I'd not be here today were it not for that... the Wild is not friendly to doubt and symbolism. I am glad, however, that my vigilance pays in the leisure of others. But for me, there shall be no rest 'till Day's End."

Menelduliniel's story, however, was a more immediate disturbance. Moridel would be glad to learn more of what passed in Mirkwood, as she had not been that way herself for a very long while. "Ah, milady, I knew that bad would come of Thranduil's notorious stiff neck! His son, though, hmm... I have not seen Thranduil's third son since well-nigh my own childhood! Yet in the years of my people I am more aged than he, now. Still, with all Thraduil's stubbornness, I know not how he would let any killing of Elves go on in his realm, save by orcs or other Dark creatures. But you say there is one such in his service... this is disturbing indeed. For in all my years I have never heard of one Elf killing another accidentally, nay, 'twould be all but impossible! I cannot think but that this trainer you speak of is somehow warped into the service of evil... I wonder if there is aught I may do to better this matter..."

ooc: @naaramare- oh, indeed! that has always been my fave Quenya line *points to doom-and-gloomy RPG character* hm, this warrants a visit to said blog... smilies/wink.gif

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Feadolena Nolfare ]

[Elenna]

"Well, I would like some adventure..." said Elenna uncertainly. "But I also have to think about Olorin. I don't want to put him in too much danger while he is still so little."

"Little?" Naamare asked incredulously. "He weighs more than I do!"

"Relatively little, then"

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry nodded at Moridel. You are right. The Wild must indeed be treated with respect, for its ways and means are quite unique and can teach much.

I'm glad you saw the humour of my suggestion, Gandalf. It seems the best recourse at the moment, ... said Bethberry, smiling and moving her bag of herbs yet again and scratching Olorin's trunk absent-mindedly but affectionately.

Perhaps 'young' is what you meant, Elenna? Have you enough food for this fellow or must he forage?

[Naaramare]

"Which brings up another point," Naaramare said, grinning. "What are you going to do when Olorin here reaches his full size? It might make travelling a little difficult.

"As for Thranduil, he's always had a stiff neck, since before he was even grown . . . " Now how do I know that? she asked herself, trailing off, but the ghost of a memory had fled, leaving her to sigh in frustration.

(OOC: Hehehe. Fea, thanks for the comment. I think I joined your clique, but I have to wait until my layout person adds it to my coding . . . siiigh.)

[VanimaEdhel]

Meneli just sort of goes along on Salkadome, her horse, closing her eyes, letting her horse follow the others. She listens, for she had keen hearing, but keeps her eyes closed, thinking and meditating.

She listens to the conversation and laughter around her...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* As day's shadows painted an evening landscape, the company stopped to make camp. They were just South of the Barrow Downs and the South Downs. If Gandalf had been journeying alone, he would have happily put more distance between himself and these mounds. As it was, there was a practical reason to stop: To give the group enough time to find food, water, and shelter while there was still some sun shining pale-gold on the gentle slopes straightening into flat fields of high grass and brushy thickets. *

* There were no Inns in sight. It looked like everyone would be in for a night of songs, laughter, oliphaunt-hugging, and ghost stories around a campfire. The Barrow Downs would add the charming pall of its own eerie atmosphere to the stories by being a little too close for comfort, in Gandalf's estimation. *

* Gandalf now spoke: * To those of you who've brought no food or water, I'll make you an offer. Go, scrounge what herbs you may, hunt what meat you can, fetch me some water ... you DID bring waterskins, I imagine? Well anyways. Bring back what you can find to make a meal. I've got two small kettles. We can combine part of my rations with what you bring me, and share the result in a soup or stew in one kettle. In the other kettle, we'll boil a tea from what herbs you find and water you fetch. Meanwhile, I'll start a fire and help set up some lean-tos.

[Bêthberry]

Well, Gandalf, I had expected to be hiking alone looking for my herbs and medicinal plants, but I can share some of my white bread and honeycomb. Let me leave my packs here with you and see what I can forage.

Bethberry emptied her waterskin into one of Gandalf's pots and took it and several empty sacks with her into the high grasses, walking towards the thickets. Some time later, she returned, her arms laden and sacks full.

Sorry for taking so long, but I think we shall feast nicely for my labours. I went looking first for a stream and found one running deeply between two heavily brambled slopes. I was in time to see a fox attack a badger sett, killing three cubs. I whistled for Wyrd, who drove off the fox, whose hasty departure left one of the dead cubs for us. I've never eaten badger, but stew does wonderful things to all manner of meat. I also found a fleshy root of wild arum, some turnips, and even bush basil and leeks for flavouring.

Bethberry put the badger on a flat, metal plate from her pack and then commenced to open the other sacks.

Who knows how to skin a badger so to avoid breaking the musk gland? Oh, and when I went to fill my waterskin I found some wild morels for the stew and some lemon verbena for tea. The brambles were full of ripe wildberries, so I helped myself to several handfuls of those, too. I don't think we'll go hungry tonight, but let's hope our full bellies don't make us complacent about watching for any trouble.

[ June 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Feadolena Nolfare]

Moridel half-smiled contentedly, leaning back amongst the gnarled roots of an old mulberry tree (ooc: Hi Birdie!). She opened her satchel and tossed a cloth-wrapped loaf and hunk of cheese towards the campfire circle. While waiting for Bethberry to return, Moridel toasted a bit of cheese on a stick over the fire, and had just popped it into her mouth when Bethberry began to wonder about skinning the badger.

"Here... let me help," Moridel offered, drawing an enamelled knife from one boot and scrambling over. She deftly cut out the musk gland, and tossed it over her shoulder into the woods. She quickly proceeded to skin the rest of the badger, and cut it into pieces for use in the stew.

"A successful hunt indeed, and not, I think, all by chance," she said to Bethberry, while skinning. "You seem to know the ways of the forest well. Tell me, from whence came your training? For I know of none from the Old Forest save yourself and Iarwain, and I have never known him to take on apprentices. Yet your forest-craft is much like his: in nature you both see the joy of the present, rather than the light of the past or the shadow of the future. I think we all could learn much from that, myself not least."

Moridel gazed at the merry Bethberry steadily, yet it was not a piercing gaze. Rather, after the manner of the Elves, she seemed to be looking straight through her, exchanging without words the thoughts of the heart.

ooc: Birdie, if you like, you can enter as the mulberry tree smilies/wink.gif

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel smiles, "Mithrandir! You underestimate me! I am always prepared!"

She puts her pack down and takes out a pack from within her pack. She opens it up and takes out a small leaf-wrapped cake of lembas. She offers some to Estelarion, who enthusiastically takes some. She offers it to the others around her, getting some takers. She then pulls out a rather large canteen, filled with water.

"I filled it in last night at the Prancing Pony," Meneli explained.

She takes a drink, and gives some to Estelarion, and offers it to anyone else who wants. She then sits down and eats.

When Meneli is done, she stands up and stretches, "Now what should I do, Mithrandir? Anything you need me to do?"

"Wait for me!" Estelarion said, quickly finishing his lembas.

The two stand up and look around, seeing what needs to be done.

Eventually, both go into the woods together to gather firewood.

They come back together as well, arms full of dry wood.

"Do not worry! We were careful!" Estelarion exclaimed cheerily. Estelarion greatly eased Meneli...he took her mind off of life. The only problem was, he reminded her so much of her love for another...but, he still cheered her up. She laughed at his zealous nature, and kneeled down to start a fire.

After the fire was started, Menelduliniel took out her bedding and put it near to the fire. She sat down on top of it and took out her book to read. Estelarion settled his things next to Meneli and just sat, staring at the fire.

"Ai, too bad my heart belongs to another," Meneli thought, "I could reall fall in love with Estelarion...and he with me, I believe."

She laughed aloud at this thought. It was the first time she had thought a frivolous thought like this in some time.

She smiled to herself and continued to read her book, still with her ears on the alert for nearby Orcs or Uruk-Hai.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf made sure to thank Bethberry profusely for her offering of bread, honeycomb, water, badger, turnips, wildberries, and spices. Bethberry could always be counted on for the very best in the way of preparing a satisfyingly earthy feast. The wizard had winced slightly at the Hedgemaiden's words about seeing shadows in the future ... admitting inwardly that he saw himself in these words. Gandalf then laughed good-humoredly at Menelduliniel's lembas ... he had half hoped and half expected that she would indeed carry that wonderfully refreshing delicate Elven food. *

* Menelduliniel had taken the First Watch, along with Moridel the Hedgemaiden. Everyone else lay sleeping, with the two horses and baby oliphaunt also settled in for the night. She heard no sign of Orc or Uruk-Hai ... but she felt something oddly out of place. A certain coldness crept near the fire, and all at once, something unseen had put the fire out. Danger hung in the air, which the Elf sensed as though a thin film of oily murk covered the stars and dimmed their shining. *

[ June 20, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

Soft hoofbeats are heard and soon stop, and through the darkness a figure on a horse may be seen, and the faint glint of silver. The figure unmounts the horse..

[Naaramare]

The sound of hoofbeats woke Naaramare out of a dream wherein she seemed to be walking through a thousand doorways in a long hall, and each doorway lead only to a new hall, lined with mirrors and tinsle, until she was hopelessly lost.

At first the sound seemed to be part of the dream, echoing through the reflective space that surrounded her, until they grew loud enough to break through her sleep.

She sat up, startled and forgetful, saying "Where am I?" aloud.

[Birdland]

Birdie had wakened from a sound sleep to find a Ranger using her as a backrest. Normally sleeping in Ent form was the safest way to spend the night in these parts. Or any parts, for that matter. It was also an amazingly restful sleep, considering it was spent standing up.

But these things would happen. A lonely traveler would camp under her canopy, or a wild forest creature would snuggle down between her roots. It mattered little to Birdie. She would remain quiet, perhaps catch a bit of interesting "road-talk" from the travelers, and then go back to sleep until the intruders had woke and gone their way.

But this was not some stray refugee or peddler. This was a Ranger! And surrounding the ranger were Elves, and Men, Horses and...and...what in Arda was that thing! All looked very well fed and well armed.

"Plague and fire follow them!" thought Birdie to herself. It was not a curse, just a simple statement of fact. Birdie spent most of her time avoiding well-armed bands of any stripe these days, as did most of the common-folk of Middle Earth. To be surrounded by these warriors made her freeze in fear. Warriors drew more warriors. It was as certain as carrion drawing flies.

Suddenly, the fire went out, and the air grew chill with menace. The Elf on watch stiffened and drew her sword.

"Oh, I knew it! I knew it!" Thought Birdie frantically. "Now how do I get out of this?"

[The Fifth]

The figure approaches closer, and halts silently; yet an air of evil, a soft aura of fear radiates out. The faint glitter of eyes can be seen underneath its hood, but not matching the glint of the blade of the weapon it holds. The horse waits patiently, and the figure looks around and observes, pointing the wicked sword up, obstructing part of its unseen face. However, looking does not do much good as everything it sees is badly blurred, so it sniffs the air, detecting the scent of the Quendi, Man, horse, and something it cannot identify.

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"Elbereth Gilthoniel..." Moridel muttered under her breath upon seeing the dark-cloaked figure stalking towards the campfire.

By now, there were none in the company who were not awake to some extent, such was the pall of fear cast by this thing. Moridel tasted the metallic air. There was no doubt in her mind what this was: the terror was too great for that, and the way in which the creature abandoned stealth, knowing it was of no avail.

Forewarned is forearmed, so they say, yet what amount of warning can avail against such an enemy? Ah, I would that more of my people were here... Aragorn, perhaps, for he has seen more of wraiths than ever I have. Yet I have had my fair share of brushes with them, though their unbridled wrath is not something to be dared if any avoiding is possible.

Moridel's eyes never left the figure, as it advanced smoothly towards them. It scents the air! Oh, Varda, what is to be done?

Yet, while she focused on how to deal with this threat, in the back of her mind Moridel was thinking something quite different. What manner of wraith, this? And why does it come? The terror it radiates seems not great enough to be Ulairi, unless it were the least of them, perhaps. Does it come from the Downs, I wonder? Yes, that must be it. I wonder what this wight is doing out of its barrow? If our threat were so great, it would not dare to venture forth, yet if we were of no account, it surely would not trifle with us. Some great need must draw it, to attack such a company openly and far from its barrow. Yes, some very great need indeed...

Moridel fingered her sword, hidden beneath her cloak, and stayed in a slumped position to mimic sleep. She dared not move. I must wait, and see if the wraith's actions betray aught of its motives...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf stirred in his sleep, like ashes probed by the touch of a cold breath of moldy wind. Fire's gone out, he thought to himself. Sensing something, he removed the Elven Ring from his finger, unseen by anyone, and carefully, silently, slipped it for safekeeping into a pouch he carried. He'd been sleeping with his staff at his side, now he reached out for the staff while looking to see how close the Black Presence had come during the time he'd spent gaining consciousness and fumbling in the dark with the pouch. *

[The Fifth]

The figure stands still as a statue, the only movement is the sword slowly pointing downwards. It seems to be deciding whether to strike or not, and it drifts towards the one with the staff; the creature seems to detect its prescence. The aura of fear calms a bit, the hooded one does not want to wake everyone up.

[Cimmerian]

Kewl walked out from the Bar and followed the group that had left earlier. He vaguely heard of a quest... a quest for what? Treasure, gold, jewels.. a dwarf had to ge involved. So he gambolled along at a safe distance.

Where would these creatures lead him to?

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry lay still, hearing the muffled movements of the others and knowing that some fell creature disturbed their thoughts even as she was untouched. This creature was scenting something.

Very well, thought Bethberry, let it work harder for what or whom it seeks.

She let out a low caw-ca-ca-chuck, distorted as if it came from the thicket and shortly Wyrd flew into the camp, not in a swift dive but lazily, as if searching. He flew around to the edge where the remains of dinner had been buried and picked through the dirt with his beak. Finding the badger's musk gland, he caught it in his claws, rapidly ascended high above the camp, and then circled back, crying as if challenging any hawk or other falcon. Then, diving suddenly, he dropped the gland by the fell creature. A heady, musky odour permeated the site, like a heavy fog masking the ground.

Bethberry wondered if anyone would remember the song she had sung for Moridel to explain how she came by her forest lore.

By that pool long ago
I bid a sad farewell,
To wander wide and far ahome.
I seek my mother's gladsome songs
throughout this Middle Earth.
Her voice untimely silenced be,
Yet still can mortal heart set free:
'O wind on the waterfall and the leaves' laughter,'
May the pure clear River spirit
Mellow time's disaster.

[The Fifth]

The figure turned its head at the cawing, the heavy musk blocked its scent. Giving out a low cry, it backs off for a moment.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* As the dark form turned its distracted head, Gandalf rose to a crouching position. Picking up a piece of firewood, he lit one end ablaze with his staff and hurled it at the shape, catching its cloak alight with a smoky hiss. *

[Birdland]

Birdie let out an unintentioned gag-and-giggle at the same time, then froze into her best tree-like imitation, hoping no one had heard.

"Badger musk!" she thought, "If only all wars were fought that way on Middle Earth. Oh, that smell! It's making my eyes water!"

Then she saw the robed, white-bearded Man pick up a lighted brand from the fire and advance upon the hooded specter. He hurled the brand, and she watched in horror as the cloak surrounding the figure turned to smoke and licking flames. Things were getting serious again.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel rose when she first saw the black figure, and climbed into a tree before it could see her. She looked down as it approached. She went over to the tree right over it, and followed it in the trees. Something told her not to attack this creature (yes, Fifth: you are a creature smilies/tongue.gif )

She looks down at Mithrandir, who seems to see her, and looks at him questioningly for instructions...

[The Fifth]

The creature (hee hee) stood there, in an inferno, and raised its sword, emitting a horrible screech that pierced the air. It backed off just a bit in a defensive position, ready to flee as the shriek rings in the air, definately waking everyone up.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel, surprised by the shriek, lost her balance and fell from the tree. She grabbed onto the branch as she fell, and stayed there, clinging to the branch.

"Ummm...a little help?" Meneli called, not caring if the "creature" saw her anymore.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The trouble for Menelduliniel was, the branch she was hanging on was right overtop the burning creature, and the branch, being weak to start with, had chosen this moment to crack under the Elf's weight. If she were to fall just now, that would be the end of her. *

* Gandalf ignited another piece of firewood. Brandishing it like a torch, he strode steadily forward advancing on the wraith, to try to get it to move away from the tree Menelduliniel was clinging to. *

[ June 21, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith was completely engulfed in flames, these embers starting to die down as it is almost done feasting on the black fabric. It cried out again, and held onto the blade, moving backwards only an inch or two. Anything it touches may ignite.

[Naaramare]

Terrified, Naaramare tried to keep herself in the shadows. The irony of her name in this situation did not escape her, but the burning wraith terrified her.

The sight of Meneli clinging to the tree branch terrified her more, though. They needed to get the . . .thing away from underneath that branch!

Without thinking, she found a stone and threw it at the burning thing, hoping to do <i>some</i> sort of good.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel tried to scramble back onto the tree limb, but it cracked again as she moved, so she quickly stayed still.

"Ummm...yeah...can you move please?" Menelduliniel shouted down to the creature below her, "I don't really feel like burning to death..."

She looked, innocently, at the creature, praying that it will listen to her.

[The Fifth]

The Wraith does not even notice the stone hurled at it, and it looks up at the branch, pointing the cruel blade up so that if she ever fall, she would be impaled. The flames are now starting to go down, and through parts of burnt fabric you see only the background. The horse is now busy helping itself to some blades of grass, lifting its head up once in a while to observe.

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: BAH! You weren't lying when you said that's what you wrote in the chat...oh well...Gandalf: can the Eagles save me or am I not special enough?

BOC: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
(That's all I have to say to that)

[The Fifth]

(OOC: What is BOC?)

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: BOC = Back on Chat, silly! And keep your flaming sword to yourself!

[The Fifth]

(Ooh.. okay. And no, I shall share my happy, happy flaming sword with everyone! Whee! Whoop! Happy Apocalpyse, everyone! Okay.. I will stop spamming this forum now..)

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: But spamming is fuuuun!

[Birdland]

Birdie had had quite enough. Holding still, tree-like, usually worked. But when a less-than valiant elfling climbed into your branches, and a flaming specter was standing directly under you, other tactics were in order. Birdie chose to panic.

"GET OFF MEEEEEEE!" she shrieked, waving her branch-arms around frantically. The elf was holding on like a kitten to a rope, legs waving wildly as she gave voice to a most un-elf-like scream. This caused Birdie to pinwheel her branches even faster, and to start jumping up and down, regardless of who might be in the way of her 50' Ent form.

The legs of the elf swung with incredible force smack into the stunned, smoking wraith, sending his sword flying over his head and into the woods. Then the elf clipped him in the back of the head on the backswing, before finally letting go, flying twenty feet, and landing in a hazelnut bush.

Birdie had had enough, she morphed into her human form and started to desperately scramble away from the chaos, tripping on packs and roots has she went.

[ June 21, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Feadolena Nolfare]

ooc: nice save birdie!! smilies/biggrin.gif
bic: Moridel had remained relatively calm throughout the scene, but a tree turning into a human... now that was just too much! She rushed over to where the newly anthropomorphized ent was frantically running about.
"Calm down! The danger of the wraith is not past yet! Please, do be quiet and tell me what has happened to you..." While speaking, Moridel racked her brain for what this creature could possibly be. It is an Ent... AND a human? The only race I have heard of that could take such forms is the Beornings... yet I have never known them to take Ent form. Ah well, there are other matters at hand...

Moridel waited for the Beorning's terror to pass. Suddenly, she recalled the fallen Menelduiliniel. She crept over to the bush Meneli had crashed into, carefully skirting the still-smouldering wraith. Menelduiliniel was somehow still conscious, and seemed not to be badly harmed. Bethberry had found her already, and was tending to her with her ever-present bag of herbs.
But what of the wraith? It cannot stand there burning forever... I wonder, will it retreat, or is its mission so desperate that it would attempt an assault? For it to have left its barrow at all suggests the latter...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Hedgemaiden ... I don't suppose you've brought a sword of Westernesse? I've a sword just bought the other day at a dusty pawn shop in Bree. Sturdy enough blade, but its runes so worn as to pose a mystery.

* Seeing that the shaken Menelduliniel was for the moment safe in the capable hands of Bethberry, the wrinkles in Gandalf's face relaxed a little. Not letting his guard down however nor forgetting the wraith for a moment, he carried the firewood-torch back to relight the campfire. In the reestablished flickering orange glow, he was now able to see where he'd put that second-hand sword. A wonder no one had tripped over it. Picking it up, Gandalf now carried the weapon in one hand and his staff in the other. *

* Seeing the black horse from Mordor grazing peacefully and looking on, Gandalf lowered his sword and approached the animal with a non-threatening stride, speaking low and gentle words. *

* Meanwhile, at the back of his mind, Gandalf could swear that he'd heard the voice of an Entwife in between wraith shrieks a few moments ago. His old friend Treebeard would certainly be glad to hear the news that the forlorn search of the Ents for their missing Entwives might soon end in a joyous reunion. *

[ June 21, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith swerves around, the sword knocked out of his black hands, with smoke rising up from his form. He was bent over from the blow to the head, and quickly recovered, pulling out through the folds of his robes another blade, shorter than the other. Meanwhile, the horse swung its large head up, flicking its ears at the words, and whinnies, ferreting at the ground with its front hooves.

[Naaramare]

Her thrown rock had taken all the courage she'd possessed at the time, and after her motion she'd slunk back into the shadows, cursing herself and her cowardice. Seeing the Wraith with a second sword in it's hand, she shouted in warning, "'WARE! He's still armed!"

[Birdland]

"'WARE! He's still armed!"

Birdie heard the shout, and quickened her efforts. She was scrambling among the leaf-litter on the other side of the fire, searching for the pack she had hidden there. It contained everything she owned in the world. "Where is it? Where is it" she muttered to herself, looking fearfully over her shoulder at the the running, cursing, battling campers.

Her hand landed on a buried strap, and she pulled it from it's hiding place with a "whoosh" of relief. Now for it! Birdie scrambled to her feet and took off running.

And ran smack into a mountain of grey flesh, smelling of hay and musk. The creature let out an offended squeal at the impact. Birdie, running full tilt, had rammed her head hard into the shoulder bone of the unwielding, massive creature.

She pitched over backward, landing flat on her back, and knew no more.

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: NICE SAVE BIRDIE! DIOLA LLE! No thanks to you, CREATURE! (talking to 5th, btw...lol)

BOC: Menelduliniel struggles.

"Let go! Let go! I'm fine! I don't need medical attention..."

She stands up and joins the others, facing 5th.

"I'll teach you to block me!" Meneli said...

[The Fifth]

The wraith stands still, almost leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. Bracing himself, he points the sword forwards.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Fool of an Elf ... * Gandalf muttered sullenly under his breath. *

* Taking careful aim with his staff, Gandalf shot a bolt of blue lightning at a large branch hanging overtop the wraith. This lightning severed the branch as neatly as an artfully cut limb from a surgeon's knife in the best House of Healing. Soon, the wraith was struggling tangled inside a mesh of branches, twigs, and leaves as cumbersome and catching as a fishing net. On top of which, a jolt of electricity ran through the tree roots and struck the foul servant of Sauron from below. *

(OOC: Am supposed to be heading out the door for several hours tonight, see everyone later!)

[ June 22, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith screeched and writhed at the mess, and does so even louder at the shock, which made the horse rear up and neigh, turning its back. (OOC: Okay, see you, Gandy.. wait, did I just say that? o.O)

[Bêthberry]

Uuh, exclaimed Bethberry as she fell over backwards, knocked aside when Menelduliniel hastily stood up. Shaking her head, to herself she muttered, I thought elves would take a fair measure of their assailants and of their position.

Picking herself up, she went over to Birdie who was lying all too still after her encounter with the creature.

Naaramare, come, help me here. You have strengths which can be of great service here.

[ June 22, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Startled, Naaramare moved quickly to Bethberry's side. "Skills? I?" she asked, caught between frantic and puzzled worry. "I will do all that I can, though I'm not sure I understand you . . . "

[The Fifth]

The wraith now uses its main weapon; fear, as a way to defend itself. Slowly, the aura of despair grows stronger, fear pouring out of this being as it tries to untangle itself from the branches.

[Bêthberry]

Naaramare and Bethberry carried Birdie off to the side of the campsite, near the waterskins and supplies. There Bethberry was able to prepare a refreshing poltice of herbs and cool water which Naaramare deftly applied to Birdie's head. Doing something positive gave Naaramare courage.

Bethberry then stood up and faced towards the trapped creature. Softly, then faster and louder, she began to sing a song which echoed around the campsite and bounced off the trees. Leaves began to rustle and branches to sway in rhythm to the song. The melody went forth, bounding and rebounding as each member of the group caught up the song, multiplying its sound as each heart heard it, until interchanging melodies were created, sometimes soft and sweet, sometimes terrible and awe-inspiring, but all working to blend out the clamorous waves of fear from the creature, revealing a sure theme to all, of hope.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel takes out her bow and arrows, and fires. Some arrows hit and some missed...

"GAH! Must practice," Meneli muttered, firing at the Creature some more (your official name is Creature now, okay Fifth?).

[The Fifth]

The wraith lays still, and shrieks loudly in an attempt to counteract the singing. He says in a chilling, thin voice, "Thou think thou can slay thee with noise?"

[Naaramare]

Focusing on carefully on putting the poultices on the stranger's head seemed to help the fear, Naaramare discovered. It did not make it go <i>away</i>, but it did help.

She wasn't sure when it was that Bethberry stood up; she didn't notice, wrapped up as she was in making sure she didn't do more damage to the fallen stranger then was already done, by way of clumsy tending.

She did notice, however, when Bethberry's song reached her. It was like a frisson up her spine, making her gasp at it's familiarity. The part of her that sometimes provided those fleeting, disappearing memories seemed to spasm suddenly, and her fear--

It didn't not disappear, but it no longer crippled her in any way. She no longer needed to shunt all her energy into the stranger's tending to keep it from overwhelming her. It suddenly seemed to her as if she'd faced down enemies more frightening than the wraith, though she did not remember how.

"Thou think thou can slay thee with noise?" the wraith-thing mocked, and Naaramare found herself on her feet beside Bethberry facing the creature.

"Noise?" she repeated. "This is no noise, you foul . . .thing. It is a counter to the fear you try to create!"

What in the names of the Vala do I think I'm doing? Naaramare demanded of herself. She had no powers to take on this wraith, this thing . . .

Oh no? said a voice, coming from the same place as her occasional memories. Why not? What does it have, a sword? Others here have swords. Power? You walk with Mithrandir, foolish girl. The only real power this thing has is fear; cease to fear it, you cease to give it weapons.

"You have no more strength here!" she found herself shouting at the wraith. "Get you gone, ere worse befall you!"

(OOC: Hmm. Methinks this is my longest post yet)

[The Fifth]

The wraith's eyes flicker a bit, and stands up between a few branches, breaking through them with a craaaCK. He seems to be quite sure of himself; and this may be his doom. Standing still, he squeezes out as much fear as he can, and points his blade at them, daring them to go closer, daring them to attack this fallen King. The dread this wraith emits creeps towards them as they sing and challenge his power, which seems to be just waking up as he tries to drive them off with fear. (OOC: There you go. My character is being kind of stupid. Oh well... [Also, I really want to at least injure someone besides myself.])

[Elenna]

Luckily, the menacing wraith had not see Elenna creeping up from behind. She had her dagger all ready to strike, when Olorin the Oliphaunt, not understanding the danger, frolicked up to her, trumpeting playfully.

The wraith whirled around, it's sword at the ready. Elenna drew her own.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" she cried, and silver rang against black. The battle was joined!

[The Fifth]

The wraith and elf clashed their swords together, evil versus good. He was still gathering his dread, and he put his strength into each swing of the blade.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf raised his own sword to assist Elenna against the wraith. The weapon emitted a faint glow. The uplifting lilt of Bethberry's song sounded in the background against the menacing shroud of gloom cast by the wraith. But just then, Olorin the Oliphaunt came trundling by and bumped into the wizard's sword arm, jostling his elbow. Gandalf, momentarily off balance, barely kept himself from falling. Planting the staff in his left hand into the ground, he leaned his weight against it. Olorin the Oliphaunt nosed around the fallen tree branch, dining on its leaves. *

[The Fifth]

The wraith continued to clash with the elf, but occasionally swung his hooded head towards Gandalf, making sure that he does not try to do anything to him as he squeezes out more fear. The two swords made loud clanging noises, with occasionally a missing swing from both of them.

[Birdland]

Birdie woke to find herself laying by the campfire. Her head was throbbing painfully, but there was a cool cloth, smelling of herbs, laying across her forehead. It slid down her face as she struggled to sit up. She could hear the metal clash of swords ringing around her, each "clang" piercing her head as if it were the blade itself.

But worse then the pain in her head was the thick, heavy weight of fear which seemed to permeate the very ground she sat on, and the very air she breathed. It was intense, focused, controlled.

But another force seemed to be trying to conteract the fear, to drive it back into the shadows from where it came. It was something Birdie had not experienced in a good many days. The feeling of hope.

The conteracting spell allowed her to slowly bring her hand down to her boot, and pull out the skinning knife that she kept there. The blade was nicked and rust-stained in spots, and the split handle had been wrapped in rawhide. It was all she had. It would have to do. She hid it by her side, and waited for the tide of the battle to sweep over her, too dizzy and sick to try to run again.

[ June 25, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf fought against the fear, but there was so much to think about. Impetuous Elves. A lumbering baby oliphaunt underfoot. The improbability of the party escaping and outrunning the wraith since some would be on horseback while others weren't and there was no large waterway to use as an alternative. His feelings of responsibility for having led everyone into danger by allowing them all to accompany him. Having camped so close to the Barrow Downs based on his decision. The troublesomely equivocal behavior of the horse from Mordor. Wanting to wear the Elven-ring Narya for comfort, but realizing that its power would likely only make matters worse. Wondering just how good his second-hand sword was, though at least it produced a comforting glow. The wraith itself, unstopped by fire and lightning ... *

* Gandalf took another swing at the black creature, forcing himself to concentrate on Bethberry's song. But being distracted, the sword fell short, grazing the fold of its cloak but doing no damage. *

[ June 25, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith feels the swing of the sword, and swings his head around to look at Gandalf with his unseen face, although his eyes glint dangerously, slightly red from the campfire that continues to burn.

[Elenna]

Elenna took a deep breath as the wraith turned its attention to Gandalf. The pause was enough for her to gather her wits, to remember stars in the sky, wind on the hilltop, Olorin's happy frolicking. That was enough for her to counteract the fear that swept the Downs.

Then again she attacked, leaping before the old Wizard, who stumbled as his enemy pressed forward.

[The Fifth]

The wraith swung around, along with the blade, narrowly parrying the attack, although he backs off a foot or so.

[The Fifth]

((*poke poke* Hey! Wake up! Someone post, please!!!))

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Thinking of a peaceful time spent in the Shire dancing the springle ring on a warm Midsummer's Eve under an orange moon, Gandalf composed his mind and struck out again at the fey wraith. This time, the Elven blade made a satisfying connection with its target, piercing through the wraith's cloak to strike the wraith itself, with a strong cutting slash. *

(OOC: Going by my dice roll, I scored a successful hit and did 6 points of damage, which is a decent amount.)

[The Fifth]

The wraith cries out in pain, sounding remotely human, and it falls to its knees, the back of the cloak split open, and darker spots splatter in some places near the wound.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Taking advantage of the wraith's injured state, Gandalf pressed forward with another successful lunge. This second lunge was nearly as powerful as the previous one, channeling a deep new gash into the creature. *

(OOC: This time, by the dice, my aim was even more true than before ... and was good for 5 points damage.)

[Naaramare]

Seeing her stranger-patient attempt to rise and then fall back again, Naaramare reluctantly turned from the battle she'd been watching, painfully aware that the brief memory that had brought her spiritual strength had not reminded her how to use a weapon that, come to think of it, she didn't have.

Kneeling beside the stranger, who was breathing quickly, she put the poultice back into place. "Don't try to stand," she admonished. "You have a head wound, if you have not noticed. If you move, you'll be ill. We must wait . . ." she laughed self-consciously, fear making the laugh a little shrill. "I'm not much more use, for all I'm unhurt."

Her eyes returned to Gandalf, Elenna and the spectre, and she clung to hope.

[The Fifth]

The wraith screeches once more, and hunches over until his hooded head touched the ground. "It seems I was.. wrong.. yes, kill thee now, it will all be useless, useless..." He says coldly. He continues to hold the blade, and as a last effort, attempts to stab Gandalf, but he is restrained by the wounds from the elven sword, so he sets the blade down, rather neatly, in front of him, but he continues to eminate all the fear he can, becoming almost unbearable.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf was so busy resisting the frenetic outpouring of fear that he never got off the next intended sword-blow ... rather, Elenna dashed in. With a burst of courage, the young Elf plunged her weapon straight through the wraith's head and down through its neck, cleaving it utterly. *

(OOC: Elenna, hope you don't mind me writing for your character. According to my dice rolls, Gandalf successfully made a saving throw against fear, but badly blundered when it came to wielding his sword this time around. Since your character has also been attacking the wraith, I thought it logical that Elenna would land a successful hit, especially given the wraith's making himself an excellent target in his prone position.)

[The Fifth]

The wraith had not even the time to shriek in pain. Soon, his clothes fell limp, and gathered into a pile, empty. A black, hazy mist hovered for a second, then drifted off into wherever. The horse swung its head towards the heap of clothing, and neighed, then dipped its head down to graze. (OOC: Welp, you've killed me. I guess I will RP as the horse. :P Also, at least one of you should fall victim to the Black Breath, as some people were v. close to me.)

[Gandalf_theGrey]

(OOC: Makes sense for Gandalf to fall victim to the Black Breath, because that sword blunder was pretty bad (only rolled a five on a twenty-sided die, +2 to hit which is still only a seven). Also, am glad you're going to continue RPing for the horse of Mordor, Fifth.)

During the confusion of battle and Gandalf's errant sword stroke gone wild, the wizard stumbled through the black haze. Even as the haze dissipated, Gandalf fell into a faint.

[ June 26, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

(Thanks. Perhaps you can try to tame me, so I may bear the burden of a person or two. Erm, you seem busy being fainted at this time so I'll wait. smilies/wink.gif )

[ June 26, 2002: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[Bêthberry]

Seeing Gandalf fall under the chilling vapours did disturb and worry Bethberry profoundly. She grabbed her leather bag and brought out some vials and tinctures. She gave some feverfew to Birdie to chew on, hoping that would help her headache, and then she ran to Gandalf's side.

He was in a stiff faint and his head and neck were cold, too cold. She held a vial of oils from camphor and bethroot under his nostrils, hoping the pungent aroma and cough remedy would clear his lungs. At first, it was to no effect. She tried a second time, and then a third, holding the vial in place longer and pressing on his chest sharply and rhymically with her free hand, hoping to force him to breathe deeply.

Suddenly, he sputtered and gulped deeply. He came to, his eyes open, but they were clouded and dazed. He appeared dazed, disoriented.

Gandalf, do you know me? demanded Bethberry. You must reply; fight the urge to sleep; come, sit up. There are too many of us here who have been troubled. I will need to prepare some lemon balm tea for us all to calm our nerves. Perhaps more for you. But sit up you must. She held the vial once again under his nose, letting the pungeant aroma do its work.

[ June 26, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Yes Bethberry, * Gandalf's breath came in gasps * ... so grateful you're here my good friend * manages a smile, then his face loses color as he remembers * ... only, it wasn't just ... a nightmare. We're all ... in danger, great danger from the blackness all around. Run for your life, Bethberry! I'd protect you, but my vision is clouded.

* looks around as if searching for an unseen enemy, stands uneasily to his feet, grasps his sword in a defensive stance, looks to the light of the fire, shivering a bit, as if he might bolt if only he could decide which direction promised to be the safest *

[The Fifth]

The horse trots closer to the fire, nosing around and tugging on roots. Lifting its head, it peers at the others, its tail swinging slowly. Its fire-reflected eyes turn towards the pile of black robes, and the horse whinnies softly, then turns.

[Birdland]

Birdie watched as the forest-hued woman worked on the white-haired bearded man, who still seemed to be somewhat disoriented; but recovering.

Birdie herself was starting to feel better, and with her own recovery a sneaking sense of shame was starting to grow in her mind. These people had tried to help her. Even in the midst of their own danger had taken the time to minister to a stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, and could have possibly even injured one of their own.

Birdie looked at the remnants of the feverfew in her hand. It was so hard to trust anyone anymore in this empty, dangerous world! But it was so good to hear the sound of voices again, and to look on faces again that might be friendly.

Sighing, she stuck her skinning knife back into her boot, got up and approached the woman.

"Hullo. Can I help you with anything?"

[The Fifth]

({Poke, poke.))

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* As Gandalf blinked the last of the greasy black film from his eyes and the world swung into focus, he noticed an unfamiliar woman walk up to Bethberry. The stranger had the surreal perky calm of a washer woman volunteering to scrub all the dust off the road after a sandstorm in the Southern deserts of Harad. Duly impressed, Gandalf bowed. *

Hail and well met, Miss. What aid you are able to lend, will be most welcome.

* Suddenly realizing that he was still clutching the sword with peculiar vigor, Gandalf sheathed the weapon. He took a seat around the campfire where Bethberry indicated as the stranger helped pass cups of steaming lemon balm tea around to all assembled. The horse from Mordor looked on. Gandalf spoke to the animal again. *

You are free now. Go, or stay, as you wish, in peace, and we shall not trouble you.

[The Fifth]

The horse neighed, and trotted nearer to the campfire, flickering in its deep brown eyes. It ears twitched at the words, and it shook its head, making some of the armor fall loose and hang off of its great head.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf finished his tea and stood. Still a little dizziness made him lean on his staff for a moment until it passed. He removed the armor from the horse's head, set the armor on the ground, then relieved the horse of the rest of its gear ... saddle, reins, bit, etc. Opening a travel pouch, Gandalf discovered he still had an apple left over from breakfast at the Prancing Pony, and offered this apple to the horse. *

[The Fifth]

The horse looks at the apple, but whinnies as the burdens of the armor is removed.

[Birdland]

"Who are you all?" asked Birdie. She looked doubtfully at the great, black warsteed, munching an apple now like a pony over a fence. And the white-bearded stranger, whom a few minutes ago was battling a terrifying evil, now behaved as a farmer with his favorite cart-horse. "Are you actually going to keep that dangerous beast"

[Naaramare]

Admittedly, Naaramare agreed with the stranger. But although not being particularly useful, that part of her which supplied her memories gave her the vague idea that at one point, she had adored horses of any kind.

"The other option is to set it loose," she said, "and dangerous as it might be, I don't think it would live long." She smiled at the stranger. It was insane; here she was, having just not-really-helped face down a wraith and chattering to someone who'd been injured during it over the top of a possibly dangerous horse, and yet she felt better than she had in . . .well, since she could actually remember.

"I am Naaramare," she said, in greeting. "May we know your name?"

While she asked this, she carefully extended her hand to the horse. Granted, it seemed to be accepting Mithrandir well enough, but . . .she was not Mithrandir, and had no desire to suffer painful bites. So . . .best to take it slow and see how the beast would react.

[The Fifth]

The steed pulls its head away from the approaching hand, and swishes it tail to keep some hovering insects away.

[Elenna]

Elenna cursed as her sword crumbled into dust after striking the Wraith. She stowed the hilt back in her pouch, and went to hug her Oliphaunt. He trembled under her hands, but did not seem to be harmed.

[Birdland]

"I'm call...uh...Birdland", said Birdie. She accepted another cup of herb tea, and cupped it in her hands, waiting for the usual reaction to her name. The looks of blank puzzlement soon appeared on the various faces around the fire. Birdie shrugged, and recited her next "line", which had been offered many times in the past.

I really don't know why I was called that. It was what my folks wanted, I suppose." Sipping her tea, (it was very good,) she finished with, "Most folk just call me Birdie."

Turning towards the next person by the fire, she asked: "What is your name?" She figured that an explanation of the strange beastling that had knocked her out would come eventually. Birdie knew to take it slow around strangers.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Pleased to meet you, Birdie. * Gandalf lit a convivial bowl of pipeweed after downing a second cup of invigorating lemon balm tea * Some call me Gandalf, others Mithrandir. You must be a traveller of some experience, to wander alone through the night's perils. If our paths lie in the same direction, Birdie, you are welcome to share our road. Would you like anything to eat? There's still some leftover badger stew keeping warm in the kettle over the campfire, I imagine.

As for the war steed, he may also accompany us for a time if he will, at least as far as Tharbad. * Gandalf smiled encouragement watching Naaramare reach out to befriend the horse. *

[Birdland]

Birdie almost dropped the cup she was holding. This was Gandalf the Grey?!

She thought about all the tales she had heard of the mighty wizard. How he had defeated the dragon of the Lonely Mountain single-handedly, commanded armies of Eagles, produced rivers of gold, and lakes of fire. That he sat on the councils of the greatest of the Elven Lords, and advised the Kings of Men.

Everyone had heard of Gandalf the Grey, though few could actually describe him. Certainly they would not describe him as sitting at a campfire, looking weary and dirty, relishing a bowl of badger stew.

Birdie decided to play along. At best, this really was Mithandir, the Grey Wanderer. (Perhaps in disquise. Heroes in tales often traveled in disquise.) At worst, he was some ancient warrior of the minor nobility, addled by sorrow and battle, who had assumed a grand delusion. He seemed to be a kindly soul, and the stew did look good.

"Well met, Oh Grey Wanderer. All of Middle Earth know of the mighty Gandalf the Grey. It is an undeserved honor to be invited to share the road with you, for however long you will accept me."

But what of the others? She watched as the young girl, with a look of concentration as if she had forgotten something important, tried to befriend the black war steed. Birdie would as soon jump on the back of a pooka as touch the beast. But at the moment, it seemed to play the role of a normal, if somewhat flighty horse, as weary of the road as its masters.

Next she glanced at the girl standing beside the strange grey beast. Did wizards have familiars? And if so, did familiars have grooms to attend the them? Birdie decided to wait for an explanation of this particular mystery. Whatever the beast was, it seemed to be well-behaved.

Birdie last looked at the woman of no particular age who seemed to have charge of the camp and it's members. Tending to hurts and the fire, dishing up another bowl of stew and refilling the pan for more tea. The puzzled skin-changer was relieved at last to be able to place at least one member of the party in her proper role. She smiled up at the woman as she handed her the bowl, and addressed Gandalf:

"You are fortunate to have such a caring helpmeet on the road, Gandalf. May I ask the name of your leman?"

[The Fifth]

The steed lays down in front of the fire, folding his legs beneath him, with a faint red glint in his eyes as he peers blankly at the others.

[VanimaEdhel]

((OOC: I'm back! ELBERETH GILTHONIEL did I miss a lot! What will I do when I go away for a month? Oh well: I'll cross that bridge when I get to it...))

Ummm...okay: Menelduliniel just basically kept shooting, even though all Hell was breaking loose. Then, it was over...

((OOC: I about caught up?))

Okay: Meneli sees the horse by the fire (my creature ;p ).

She sees it shy away from a hand, but she still slowly approaches it. She shushes the horse, and slowly holds out her hand to gently pat its neck...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf winced on being referred to as "mighty" by the mysterious Birdland, but smoked amenably enough until hearing Bethberry referred to as "leman." Then he extinguished his pipe and stood, turning towards the newcomer to their group. *

The one whom you mistakenly call "leman" is a good friend, the best pure light to come from the Old Forest and dispel darkness after the tradition of her parents most worthy. Her honor rivals that of the greatest fair folk ever to walk Middle Earth. * Gandalf nodded to Bethberry, inviting her to introduce herself and her background according to her comfort level. Then he spoke to Birdland again. *

... You've just reminded me of something, though. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for an Entwife. Thought I heard one earlier. If so, I must relay this good news to Treebeard.

* There being only a few short hours left until dawn, Gandalf eyed the half-snoozing horse with a touch of envy. *

They don't call it horse sense for nothing, * he muttered to himself, then spoke at a more normal volume to the group at large * ... A few last things to consider before I catch a short sleep: How many here ride bareback? Shall we be needing the horse's gear? And who among us will discover a name that the horse will answer to?

* Gandalf, unabashedly dead tired, yawned, stretched out on the ground, and dropped off to sleep. *

[The Fifth]

(Welcome back Van! Creature! Creature!) The horse allowed the hand to pat his head, as he was now starting to tire himself from his long journey from Mordor.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry looked at Birdie with a twinkle in her eye, but there was a solemn frown on her forehead and she sighed slightly, as she stored her vials in her bag again and packed some of the herbs she had found earlier that day.

You are younger than I thought, Birdie, or perhaps that bump to your head is serious, if you give way to such notions. There are more relationships in Aman and Arda than are dreamt of by romantic young girls.

I am Bethberry, a herbalist, taught the ways of forests by Iarwain, my father, and the lore of the seasons by my mother, Goldberry. I seek her song throughout all of Middle Earth. Gandalf has been a friend of my family since, well, since he came to Middle Earth. Our paths have often crossed.

I'll leave others here to talk around the fire. I am weary from the battle. Good night.

Bethberry unrolled her blanket and made a bed for herself amidst the ferns and mosses and was soon asleep.

[ June 30, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Naaramare gaped at the sleeping Bethberry. Well. That explained a lot. From her brief stay healing in Rivendell, she knew who Iarwain Ben-Adar and his spouse Goldberry were . . .

So that's why Bethberry could combat the wraith-thing's fear . . .

Speaking of the wraith-thing . . .

It was so frustrating. At one point, Naaramare was almost certain she had known exactly how to tame a horse, and now . . .she couldn't even get close to one that was already tame.

Well, try again, idiot girl! a sharp mental voice prodded her.

Carefully, Naaramare approached the reclining beast, hoping she wasn't going to get kicked.

(OOC: Fifth, be nice to the poor elf. ^~)

[The Fifth]

The horse snorts, sending a spray of phlegm at the elf. (OOC: How's that for nice?)

[ June 30, 2002: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[Birdland]

"Well, you certainly put your foot in it" Birdie thought. "How was I to know it was strictly a platonic relationship?"

Birdie signed, thinking that too much time on the road had dulled her ability to "read" people. Such mistakes could get a person killed! Walking to the edge of the camp, she stood, closed her eyes, and started to raise her arms...

Then suddenly remembered that no one here seemed to know that the "Entwife" had been her! In the heat of the battle, her instant transformation from tree to traveler seemed to have been overlooked. Birdie considered waking the sleeping wizard and explaining the situation to him, but rejected it for now. Some people were touchy about Skin-Changers, believing them to be, at best, spies, or at worst in league with Dark Powers. Best to sound out her companions a little more before revealing her one "talent".

"Well, no sleeping standing up for you tonight." she thought ruefully. Birdie fetched her pack, pulled an old woolen cloak out of it, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Finding a spot by the fire, she laid down on the cold ground, groping irritatingly around for a rock between her shoulder blades.

The black war steed lay across from her on the other side of the fire, gazing at the skin-changer like a cat curled up on a hearth. There was the slightest flicker of red deep within its eyes. Birdie shuddered, hoping it was a reflection from the dying flames between them.

"What are you looking at?" she muttered. She rolled over, her back to the horse, and tried to sleep.

[ June 30, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Naaramare]

(OOC: Fifth, that was mean. Funny. But meeean.)

Discouraged, Naaramare gave up on the horse. Whatever talent she might have had with the animals before was obviously gone.

The inner warmth from before was fading, and following Bethberry's lead, she wrapped herself in her cloak and tried to drift off to sleep.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel continues to pat the creature ((you know I love you, Fifth! http://www.plauder-smilies.de/remybussi.gif )). She holds out an apple for it too.

"'Quel roch (good horse). Mani naa essa en lle, a'maelamin (What is your name, my beloved)?" Meneli asked the horse.

[The Fifth]

The horse does not eat the apple, and turns his head away to look at the nearby scenery. This steed was made foul by the stench of Mordor, but he was not as foul as the rider that he once bore.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Soft trumpeting from Olorin the oliphaunt woke everyone to a morning of wind and rain. Waiting for Elenna to wake up and provide a morning hug, the oliphaunt shook water from the folds in its ears onto the Elf and anyone who happened to be nearby. *

* After the draining battle against the wraith, the fire had been left untended. No one had kept the night watch, unless you counted those who had done more tossing and turning than sleeping. *

* The campfire had been blown out. The meager remains of badger stew hanging in the iron kettle above the dead embers resembled thin soup with a hint of turnip or leek bobbing into view if you looked close. Olorin wandered over to the stew kettle and drank. *

* Gandalf awoke to find a note tacked to a nearby oak tree. The note had been left behind by the Hedgemaiden Moridel. According to this written message, the Ranger had needed to attend to some business of her own, promised to meet up with the company again if at all possible, and bade the group not to wait for her, but to go on ahead to Sarn Ford. *

* Gandalf rekindled the fire as the rest of the company woke up. *

[Naaramare]

I must have done stupider things than put myself to sleep in a snit without checking to see if there was a night-watch, Naaramare thought, trying to stretch the cricks out of her neck, but I can't remember them.

Then again, she couldn't remember much of anything. And it was getting maddening, particularly with the tantalizing feeling of almost remembering dancing in front of her.

Then again, there was a wizard travelling with them, wasn't there?

Moving over to where Gandalf was, Naaramare cleared her throat self-consciously.

"Mithrandir," she began, "may I ask something of you?"

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Certainly, Naaramare, and I shall answer as best I can. * Gandalf bowed slightly, smiling through the drizzle as misty water droplets accumulated on his hat brim. *

[The Fifth]

As the sun rises, the horse unfolds his legs, drawing himself up to his great height and tossing his head, snorting, and then dipping his neck down to nose around on the ground for grass.

[Naaramare]

Taking a deep breath, Naaramare summoned her resolve.

"Grey Wanderer . . .do you know any way of returning memories? I ask because . . .well, I lost mine.

"I don't know how. I don't remember anything before reawakening in Imladris; I was found wandering the passes of the mountains. I don't remember my real name: I chose Naaramare because . . . " She blushed. "When I was found, my clothes were burnt, and my sense of humour tends towards the ironic. It was thought likely that whatever fire had done that had been part of what deprived me of my memories.

"I keep getting hints and flashes, as when the wraith . . .as when I said what I to the wraith. Or when I tried to befriend it's horse. But nothing concrete.

"And I wondered . . .even Lord Elrond could tell me nothing about how to regain what I'd lost, and . . . " She took another deep breath. "And if you tell me there is no hope, I shall give up trying and simply continue on as Naaramare. But . . ." She let it trail off.

I shouldn't have asked . . . .

[Gandalf_theGrey]

My dear Elf, there is hope indeed. First, look to yourself by looking away. The past has been taken from you ... do not give away the present as easily, but live, fully, now. The same fire that destroys a forest makes its soil rich and fertile, so that the land may be greener than before. Do not give up, but let go. Continue on as Naaramare.

The sort of help which I can offer you ... which Elrond can offer ... and Bethberry ... is indirect. You seek your place in the Music, have lost your place in the theme. Carry on, pick up the song from where you are now. Then perhaps one day you will be able to fill in the unfamiliar notes, from the familiar tones with which you surround yourself.

* Not voicing all his thoughts, Gandalf gave a nod of encouragement, as when Naaramare had attempted to approach the black steed. He had foreseen that this conversation would take place. Yes, there was hope, though the end was far from clear ... Suddenly, images seemed to form in the wizard's mind. Gandalf looked up with a start. *

In which mountain pass were you discovered wandering, Naaramare? I think I see something ...

[ July 01, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Naaramare]

The question startled Naaramare out of the disappointment that had clung to her when Gandalf began. Not that what he said wasn't true, but . . .

. . .I still feel helpless, and I know that I never, EVER liked feeling helpless . . .

"The . . pass?" she repeated, blinking. "It was . . ." She paused, frowning, trying to recall out of the murk that was simply normal, confused memory of a murky, confused time in her life. "It was . . .oh, this is ridiculous, because I remember this!" Trying to focus on one single voice in the myriad of memories that leapt to her mind when thinking of that time, she finally heard someone--Lord Glorfindel?--say . . .

"Caradhras," she said aloud. "It was the Imladris side of Caradhras where they found me."

[piosenniel]

It had been a pleasant journey from Pincup, in the Green Hill Country, south to Longbottom. The weather was mild, the days sunny, affording ample opportunity for a wandering hobbit to capture the countryside in word and sketch.

Holly Stoor had walked the road out of Longbottom early yesterday morning at a comfortable pace, stopping whenever something caught her eye - dogtooth violets in the shade of a tree, the red chevron against the black wing of a bird, the soft sighing of pines as they bent in a morning breeze. Her worn chapbook would soon find its way, open, into her left hand, shortly followed by the stick of hard charcoal tucked over her right ear into her right hand. Soon a small, detailed sketch would emerge on the vellum. Later, when she paused to eat or make camp, the same sketch would prompt a short line of description or perhaps a poem capturing that moment of the journey.

Having replenished her supply of pipeweed today from a grower near Longbottom, and picked up a few staples from farmers along the way, she hoped to make the Brandywine by mid to late afternoon, and cross it at the Sarn Ford.

She was in sight of the Ford, when her pony, Periwinkle, nickered at her, stopped abruptly, and shook her mane. The small load of equipment she was carrying had gone askew. Holly took a few moments to readjust and secure the load, and then headed down to the water.

She and Peri crossed the river slowly to its east bank, clambered out, and continued on down toward the Greenway.

When she got to the intersection of the road from the Ford and the Greenway, there were a number of big people conversing in the road. So intent were they on their conversation that they did not notice her approach.

Tapping one politely on the back, she asked him, as he turned toward her and looked down, 'Excuse me, sir, might we pass?'

[ July 01, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[The Fifth]

The war steed lifts his head up, chewing on a clump of grass, to look at the hobbit. The armor near him glistens with dew, as does the remains of the wraith's robes scattered a bit farther away. Snorting, he trots over towards a tree, clipping at pieces of grass growing between the bulging roots.

[Birdland]

Birdie had spent a miserable night on the hard ground. As she sat up, aching in every joint, she debated whether she should stick with her traveling companions, (and well-armed traveling companions at that) or give in to the temptation of staying here in camp for another day, just so she could get a good night's sleep.

Her fellow campers were stirring around her, trying to start the cold fire again, packing up haversacks, stretching sore muscles and working out a night of kinks in their joints. The one who called himself Gandalf was standing towards the edge of the road, talking with the mysterious elf-girl.

Suddenly, she heard a perky voice beyond them, asking "Excuse me sir, might we pass?"

Birdie looked up with a start, then smiled. "Well as I live and breath...Holly Stoor!"

[ July 01, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

'Birdie?! Is that really you, you old skin-changer?', cried Holly in surprised delight. 'What in the world are you doing here?'

Periwinkle eyed the warhorse, taking his measure, so to speak, then ambled in his direction.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Caradhras, * repeated Gandalf to Naaramare, in a tone making it plain that this was not what he'd been looking for, * Now if you'd mentioned anything in the vicinity of the Lonely Mountain, I would have guessed the dragon Smaug might be involved, depending on the timeline.

[ July 02, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

Holly put her thumb and middle finger under her tongue and whistled the pony back. 'No need to wander off fully loaded.' she admonished him. 'Here, let me take the packs off.'

'You want to help with the other side, Bird?', said Holly deftly untying the knots holding the packs on her side.

Birdie approached the pony warily, and he looked in her direction with a certain mischievous glint in his eye. They had met before, as he recalled.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry woke with the scent of almost-dank, moist earth in her nose. As she moved, fronds of ferns sprinkled her with rainwater. They and the grasses had sheltered her somewhat from the rain so she was relatively dry. Her blanket would need an airing, though, before being packed away. She could feel the moisture rising into the air as the sun warmed the ground.

Getting up, she looked around at her companions and was surprised to see a new one, a young Hobbit with a pony, talking to the one who called herself Birdland, or Birdie for short. Olorin the oliphaunt was eyeing the wraith's horse curiously.

It was time for breakfast. Bethberry stretched and then threw some coffee beans into the kettle of boiling water on the fire, still steaming and hissing with rain water evaporating. They were lucky the fire had caught.

Then she went to hang her blanket on a tree branch and see who this new arrival was.

[The Fifth]

The horse looks back at the oliphaunt, having seen another one at a faraway place with his master.

[piosenniel]

Periwinkle, relieved of his burdens, wandered toward the warsteed in search of equine company. He stopped about four or five feet from the great horse and chomped a few clumps of grass.Always best to see what sort of temper the great ones are in! thought the pony to himself.

Holly stacked her packs out of the way. She untied her carved cup from her backpack, and pulled out a small packet of sweetspice tea from a brass tin in the side pocket of the pack.

She had seen a kettle of water on the small fire near the center of the camp and thought she might ask for a cup of it to make her tea. It was boiling merrily, and though someone had put some coffee beans in it, they hadn't yet flavored the water. No one was near the kettle, so she helped herself, dipping her cup in carefully as not to burn her fingers.

A pinch of tea swirled in the cup, enticing her nose with its heady scent. She inhaled the delicious vapors and smiled contentedly, waiting for the liquid to cool enough for drinking.

'It's going to be a great day for walking, Bird! Don't you think?', asked Holly. 'Perhaps if you are going in my direction we can share the road for a while.'

[ July 02, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie smiled, cheered to see a friendly face again. "Indeed, your presence would be welcome, if our other traveling companions would have someone as "normal" as a hobbit who roams the Western Lands instead of staying safe in her comfortable smial."

"Now this," Birdie gestured towards the woman hovering over the pan of coffee, "is Bethberry, the daughter of Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, and a herbalist and loremaster without peer." Goldberry greeted Holly with a smile, and a wink at the effusive Birdland.

"The others I hope will come forward and introduce themselves, and perhaps tell you their story, for I confess I barely know the facts myself."

"But I have saved the best for last, for the greybeard whom you so cheekily tapped on the shoulder and demanded passage from?" Here Birdie leaned forward, and whispered to Holly, "He claims to be Gandalf the Grey! I can hardly credit it, though he did seem to know how to handle a wraith that attacked us last night. If you want to travel along with us, you will have to plead your case with HIM."

Birdie leaned back, to see what effect her news had had on the halfling tinker. "Have you ever seen or heard of this wizard of legend? Do you think it is really Gandalf?"

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The wizard turned gently from Naaramare, to address the newcome Hobbit with an introductory bow. *

I beg pardon for not answering you earlier, my dear Hobbit. Rather than a story to tell, I've a road to walk. Please allow me to introduce myself ... I am an old man who answers to many names. And if others wish to call me Gandalf, then who am I to stop them? smilies/smile.gif

Now then, you carry a goodly number of packs on your pony. What is your trade, have you wares to show?

* Gandalf grabbed a lit branch from the campfire, walked over to the wraith's tattered robes, and set them ablaze. He did the same with the war steed's gear and trappings, stoking the flames into a searing white heat strong enough to melt metal. Then he gestured to Naaramare, Birdie, the Hobbit, and others standing nearby with an expansive wave of his arm towards Bethberry and the morning brew. *

Coffee smells about done, thanks to the traditional fine Bombadil hospitality. Why don't we share a cup and conversation?

[ July 02, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

'Gandalf, you say?', queried Holly to Bird. 'I've heard of him, I think. My cousin from Buckland told me about someone named Gandalf. A kindly, older gentleman, famous for his skill with fires, smokes, and lights. Helped out in the Great War, I think she said.' She eyed the older man still engaged in conversation with the young woman. 'But a wizard? -- Well, I don't know about that!

The hobbit looked with interest toward the woman whom Bird had introduced as Bethberry. She had gotten the coffee brewed and was drinking a great cup of it with one hand, while trying to resuscitate what appeared to be the congealed remains of a former meal with the other hand.

Holly rustled through one of the packs taken off her pony and found her large skillet. Taking it, a small cask of salted butter, and a bulging burlap bag to where the woman sat stirring furiously to no effect, she greeted her.

'Well met, Bethberry!' she said smiling.'As I am enjoying some of your nice, hot water for my tea, will you allow me to help with making breakfast?' She looked into the mass in the pot, and sniffed it. 'Ah, badger stew isn't it?. Smells as if it were very tasty, in its day. Has some nice herbs in it, yes?'

Bird, who had ambled over to the fire with her, raised her eyebrows.

'Would you have a little flour or fine cornmeal, good mistress?' asked Holly, 'And perhaps I might borrow a few of your herbs for flavor, if you will. I think I can fry some of these up as an accompaniment to that admirable stew.'

She sat her skillet on a flat rock very near the cooking fire, and put three generous, hobbit sized thumb dollops of butter in it, While the butter, slowly melted, she pulled out four large bundles of moss from the burlap bag and set them near her.

'Gack! We're having fried moss for breakfast?!, exclaimed Bird, revising her estimate of the viability of the badger stew.

'No, silly,' said Holly, laughing, 'we're having these.' From the moss, she carefully unwrapped a large number of fresh, forest mushrooms.

[ July 02, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Holly stood up from her place near the fire and wiped her hands on her trouser legs.

'Well met, sir!' she said to Gandalf, and bowed back to him. 'Please don't think me rude if I don't answer your questions at present. Let's eat first, and enjoy a hot drink in the sun. Answers always are easier with a full stomach, don't you think?'

She busied herself dredging the now cleaned mushrooms in the flour and herbs that Bethberry had produced, and popped them into the frying pan.

'After breakfast, or second breakfast for me, we can sit and enjoy a pipe together and I'll tell you where I'm bound. I have some Longbottom leaf to share, if that might serve your fancy. Mr. Gandalf.'

[The Fifth]

The war steed peered at the pony known as Periwinkle, and neighed. He turned his head a moment to look at the burning robes and armor, then back to the pony happily grazing on the grass.

[Naaramare]

Naaramare stared at the small figure who'd joined them, half-listening to talk of mushrooms, second breakfasts and pipeweed. She'd heard of halflings vaguely, but she'd never seen one (that she remembered . . .though for all she knew she'd been associating with them for millenia before she lost her memory . . . )

Obeying Mithrandir's gesture, she moved to the fire and got a cup of the hot, bitter beverege. "Do you know this person?" she asked of Bethberry, trying to suppress all the questions that were bubbling up beneath the surface.

It's as if I've said so be it, no one can give me my old life back, but I can learn everything about this new one now . . .

[Bêthberry]

Do I know this halfling? I think not, to my loss. From the looks of things, she is most accomplished at the culinary arts of the road. Unusual I would say, for most halflings I know delight in all manner of gadgets and pans and pots and kitchen paraphernalia.

Bethberry rises and bows admiringly at Holly.

We are fortunate you came along just as you did. Your mushroom savouries could not be more welcome to those who have passed a rainy night and fearful encounter. You run the risk of being pressed into the group by the vote of our stomachs.

Bethberry resumes her seat beside Naaramare.
Do you remember skills and talents, languages, or do things come to you unbidden that you suddenly recognize?

[Naaramare]

"My languages I kept, I think," Naaramare replied, sipping at her coffee. "At least, I do not recall relearning them, and I can speak several. Otherwise . . . " She shrugged. "Most often, it is a feeling that I used to know something I've now forgot, such as taming horses or," she grimaced, "swordwork. Occasionally, I will suddenly remember a skill--but not how I learned it or anything about when or how it was given to me."

She laughed bitterly. "All in all, I think I would prefer starting entirely again; the fragments are maddening."

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

As the company settled down with their new visitor, there came the sound of hooves on the road off beside them. As the sound grew louder, there appeared over the bend a large gray horse, and a tall figure clad in blue and gray as well. The horse was at a slight gallop, the rider taking his time, but still quickly making his way down the road. His long brown hair, wet with the morning rain, was flapping slightly in the breeze, his cloak was pulled back behind him, giving plenty or room for his arms to move around.

The rider slowed his pace as he approached the clearing where the companions were eating and talking amongst theirselves. As he got closer, the talking stopped, as everyone waited to see who was passing by. It was an elf, a soldier of some kind. "Whoa Getathane," he said. The rider stopped beside the clearing and casually looked over at the clearing to satisfy his curiosity. Then, he dismounted.

"Ai, Mithrandir! Mushrooms and coffee eh? Your tastes have not changed," Arcon said as he walked up the low bank to where the group was sitting. "Bethberry?! It is good to see you again fair daughter of Iarwain Ben-adar? It has been a long time since I've seen you both. What are you doing in these parts of Eriador?" asked the Elda.

[piosenniel]

Periwinkle nickered softly at the black war steed, as if to draw his attention to the elven steed. Getathane he heard him called. This just might be an interesting trip he thought to himselfa wraith steed, an elven steed, and an oliphaunt! He wandered over to take a look at the oliphaunt and see what might be had in that area for breakfast.
*****************************************
The hobbit filled a plate with mushrooms and grabbed her cup of sweetpice tea.Retiring to a tussock of grass on a little rise a short distance from the fire, she ate silently, her eyes watching the group and their interactions.

Being done a short time thereafter, she laid aside her plate and cup and wiped her fingers on the grass. From within her vest, she drew out her small sketchpad and took the charcoal stick from behind her ear. Her hand flew over the paper, bringing to life the figures before her.

Though her eyes and hand were intent upon the drawing, her ears were trained on the new arrival, Arcon, and his question to Gandalf and Bethberry.

[ July 03, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf had of course nodded agreement to the Hobbit's offer of Longbottom Leaf and conversation after the meal of juicy golden-brown herbed mushrooms and strong hearty coffee. He then allowed her what privacy she needed to eat, think, and doodle with the decisive-sounding strokes of satisfying artistic creation that brushing charcoal over parchment produces. The morning offered time enough to exchange insight on how trade was faring between the Shire and the lands of the Big People, wolf sightings, missing wagons, and any other unusual occurrences along the main roads. *

* Meanwhile, an old friend approached on horseback and dismounted. *

Well met, Arcon, join us around the fire! smilies/smile.gif To answer your question, just going about my normal business, only I seem to have picked up quite a bit of company. Turned out to have been a good thing. For while there've been reports of an increase in unsavory characters along this road, the appearance of a wraith last night was an unexpected danger despite our nearness to the Barrows. It took our combined efforts to finally defeat the foul creature. Bethberry, Meneli, and Elenna in particular rose to the occasion in warrior form, with Naaramare in the role of healer providing much needed support to Bethberry and Birdie generously volunteering to help out with anything that might arise in the aftermath.

The immediate road takes us to Tharbad by way of Sarn Ford. From Tharbad, I continue on ... well, that's getting too far ahead. * Gandalf looked at the war horse from Mordor, wondering if the beast would even be allowed passage through all the territory that the wizard might cover. * Easier to say, we share the road for as long as we're meant to.

[ July 03, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Bêthberry]

Arcon! As I live and breathe! exclaimed Bethberry, jumping up and running to greet the familiar companion. She takes his hand in hers and shakes it in a merry greeting. (OOC: nothing else! *grins*)

You are far from Mithlond. Cirdan must cast his nets far afield in these times. Come, there is coffee yet left for you and I'm sure you can prevail upon Gandalf for some leaf, should you wish, or this very helpful halfling, Holly, although for the time being she seems quite involved with her muse.

[ July 04, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Birdland]

(0.C.C. - Birdie curtseys to Gandalf. Very kind of you not to mention to Arcon the fact that Birdie was trying her best to run away from you "crazy folk"! smilies/biggrin.gif )

Birdie finished her breakfast of mushrooms and coffee, washed up her plate and cup and stowed them in her pack.

Knowing better than to disturb Holly while she was sketching (one didn't even ask to see the results, she would show - or not - as the mood took her), Birdie wandered over to Periwinkle, cutting off a teasel head as she walked, and set about currying the good pony.

"Well, Peri, old friend. And how has life on the road been treating you? Nothing like a life of travel to keep a pony fit, I see."

She gestured with her make-shift curry comb to the tall newcomer speaking with Gandalf. "Now there's a fit visitor for the likes of wizards. What did he say his name was, Peri? - 'Acorn', was it?" Birdie chuckled at her own joke, and continued to brush the contented pony. "Well, it's not for the likes of us to say "come" or "go" to an Elf-Lord. Just hope him and his great elf-steed don't splash us walkers with muck as they pass."

Birdie hummed an old tune under her breath as she worked, remembering a time when young girls would sigh and dream at the sight of the fair Elf Folk:

"An outlandish knight came from the Westlands;
And he came wooing to me;
He said he would take me to foreign lands
And he would marry me."

"Go fetch me some of your father's gold,
And some of your mother's fee,
And two of the best nags from out of the stable,
Where there stand thirty and three."

"She mounted upon her milkwhite steed,
And he on his dapple grey;
They rode till they came unto the seaside,
Three hours before it was day."

[Naaramare]

Naaramare smiled at the newcomer, watching Bethberry's greeting. For a brief moment, a dual hope/fear entered her heart--the same one that always did when she encountered one of her own race--that they would recognize her and expect her to do the same.

On the one hand--she would not be able to recognize them, and the awkwardness to follow . . .was not something she looked forward to.

On the other . . .if they recognized her, they would be able to fill in some of the gaps, at least; even if she wouldn't remember, she would know.

But that was ridiculous and she pushed such ideas away, blushing when Mithrandir introduced her with far more credit than she deserved.

"Greetings, Arcon," she said.

[piosenniel]

Holly finished her rough sketch and replaced the drawing pad within her vest. She would work on the finer detail later. Picking up her cup and plate, she sluiced them off with a little water, wiping them down with a tuft of grass.

Bird was grooming Peri, and she ambled toward them. The strokes of the currying matched the rhythm of the song sung by Bird.

'That is a rather gruesome song for such a bright and promising morning!' she said to the singer.

Peri nickered, as if in agreement. Holly sang the next verse back to Bird, over the pony's back.

Light off, light on, thy milkwhite steed;
Deliver it up unto me;
For six pretty maidens I have drown'd here,
And thou the seventh shall be.

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Quite a bit of company indeed Mithrandir," Arcon replied eyeing the baby oliphant. "But I would expect none the less. A Wraith you say? I came across a creature some time ago, while I was passing this way heading south. I was with a few of my men, escourting some Gondorins back home, so of course it fled before we could get a good look at it. But it's good to hear you have some capable hands with you," Arcon said glancing at Menelduliniel, Elenna, and then Naaramare.

"So you are heading to Tharbad are you? I myself have some business there with the Rangers. I hear some odd things have happened around these parts, and my curiosity is indeed peaked. But the reasons of my travels are a matter of confidence."

As Bethberry came running up, a warm smile came to his face. "It is always good to see you Bethberry, I've missed your fine campfire cooking," Arcon said with a laugh. "Yes a bit far from Mithlond, but Cirdan's errands spread wide across Eriador, and sometimes further south and east. If he had known that you were in the area, I'm sure he'd offer a visit of you all."

Arcon walked over to the fire where everyone was gathered and greeted them accordingly. "I believe I will pass on the coffee Bethberry, not quite my taste, but the leaf I will gladly accept," he said removing a water skin and caked pipe from his belt pack.

Turning to respond to a greeting, Arcon smiled, "Suilad, Naaramare. An interesting name. Are you from royal lineage?"

(OOC: Naaramare, see the discussion.)

[ July 24, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]

[Naaramare]

The question caught Naaramare by surprise, so much so that her jaw dropped a little. She immediately closed her mouth, her teeth clicking together a little as she did so.

"Well," she said after a moment, still blinking in startlement, "if I am, I don't remember!" Her laugh was the slightest bit brittle.

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: ACK! Almost forgot that Estelarion was on this with me too!

In the morning, Menelduliniel and Estelarion rolled up their bedrolls and listened to the other's conversation.

"So: what are you hoping to achieve through this quest?" Estelarion asked, looking at Menelduliniel.

"I do not know, actually," Menelduliniel said, laughing, "And you? Why did you come along?"

"For a bit of adventure, of course!" Estelarion said, his eyes glittering with mirth.

"And what would you know of adventure?" Menelduliniel teased.

"You would be surprised," Estelarion said, laughing. He reached over and playfully pushed her, she pushed him back, and he, already having mounted, urged his horse, Linaroch to a gallop and galloped through the woods. Menelduliniel, on Salkadome, followed close behind. She caught up and they raced through the woods, ahead of the others, laughing...

[Birdland]

Birdie laughed out loud. "Ah, so you know that old lay, do you Holly?" she said. "A cautionary tale from mothers, perhaps, on the dangers of running off with handsome strangers, especially if they are not of your kind."

"A lesson you could have heeded yourself, on more than one occasion", said Holly drily.

"True enough," said Birdie matter-of-factly. She finished brushing Periwinkle and gave her a pat on the neck. "Now if I remember rightly, the hero of that tale in the end was the King's parrot, was it not?" Birdie gave a wink and a smile, "I always suspected that parrot might have been a skin-changer."

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* After breakfast, the group packed up their bundles and stowed their belongings to take to the road, except for Elenna and Olorin the oliphaunt. The Elven maid remained fast asleep, while her oliphaunt stood guard, tail waving like a banner, refusing to budge. It was decided that the two would be welcome to catch up with the group later, if they still wished to come along. *

* Turning to the black horse from Mordor, Gandalf once again addressed it: * Come with us, or go where you will, as you are free now. * Gandalf beckoned with outstretched arm to the animal that it was welcome to come alongside and walk with the group. *

I always enjoy songs like the one you were singing, Birdie and Holly. smilies/smile.gif Please allow me to share one of my own devising. * Gandalf cleared his throat and sang as the group got underway on horseback or on foot to Tharbad. *

Rangers on their forest trail
Among strangers take their ale
Returning duty’s call with smiles
Protecting realms that stretch for miles
The less you have the more you see
The worth in breathing sunshine free
In the warmth of friends and kin
Home is better than an Inn.

Unremarked by folk unknown
With eyes as sharp as eagle’s own
Keeping teeth of wolves away
Where peaceful crops are grown by day
And kettles steam with stew at night
Round windows frame the firelit sight
Of the warmth of friends and kin
Home is better than an Inn.

Passing to the Age’s end
Soon the road will show a bend
Hope remains as shadows fall
In worthy folk, both big and small
Together against Enemy’s power
Heroic deeds will light the hour
For the warmth of friends and kin
Home is better than an Inn.

... Does anyone else have a song or poem to share, to lighten our road? Arcon, Bethberry, Naaramare?

(OOC: Visiting relatives today and tomorrow, I do not expect to have any access to a computer until Friday night. But I shall return! smilies/smile.gif)

[ July 04, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

Whinnying, the horse looked around. After standing there a moment while the others prepared, he decided to come along. Seemingly against his personality, he trotted over and brushed up against Gandalf.

[piosenniel]

'It seems you have a new travelling companion, Gandalf.', said Holly, seeing the horse make an accepting movement toward the wizard.

'Would you like to see if he might like one of these?', she continued, pulling a small, crisp apple from her pack. 'And here's one for you, if you like.'

Periwinkle nudged her in the back at the sight of his favorite treat.

'Yes, Peri!,' she laughed. 'Here's one for you, too!'

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel and Estelarion continued to gallop until they heard Gandalf's request for music. They stopped, looked at each other, grinned impishly, and galloped back to the group.

"We may be of some assistance, Mithrandir," Estelarion said.

Estelarion took out a silver flute and Menelduliniel cleared her voice. Estelarion started with an introduction, then Menelduliniel, figuring out which song it was, came in with the sorrowful melody:

Ta' yestant yassen rina
Ta' yestant yassen coiasira
Ta' yestant yassen namaarie
Ta' yestant yassen mori tuliel

Amin n'eleaint
Amin n'sintaint
Amin n'tyavaint
Lle n'tulis

Ar' amin sal' feithon
Ar' amin sal' kaimelon
Ar' amin sal' estelon
Lle entulathos i amin

Amin sinton lle entulathos i amin

Translation:
It began with memory
It began with time
It began with farewell
It began with darkness coming

I saw not
I knew not
I felt not
You came not

And I still wait
And I still dream
And I still hope
You will return to me

I know you will return to me

Menelduliniel finished the song and Estelarion stopped playing. They both looked to the others to see how they liked the mournful song.

[Birdland]

Birdie jumped to the side of the trail as the two excitable elflings came galumphing back to the party. "Watch where you put those clumsy beasts!" Birdie hollered, but the two giggling Fair Folk paid no attention.

Birdie wiped the muck off her cloak, doing it little good. But she listened along with the others as they offered their lay. Elves were singing, and one had no other choice but to listen.

After the song was through, Bird nudge Holly and said under her breath, "Yon elf maid with the addled brain could have WRITTEN that song, I think."

[Naaramare]

The song was almost like a blow, painfully remeniscent of her own situation. Naaramare forced a smile, however; the skill had, at least, been breathtaking.

"Lovely," she said, blinking against tears.

[Bêthberry]

Perhaps, Naaramare, said Bethberry, while shaking the mud which had gone flying from the horses' hooves off her cloak, too, if you recall Gandalf's words about 'making the best of the time available to you' you would think less of the elvish song of longing. Think instead about the Rangers' duties in Gandalf's poem. It seems to me there is more hope, more positive spirit there.

"The less you have, the more you see."

Why walk into the new day backwards? Especially since you can no longer see backwards, so to speak.

Naaramare looked askance at Bethberry and was ready to take offense but then saw the kindly grin taking shape around the corners of Bethberry's mouth.

[ July 04, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

The elves had passed by; their music long gone on the breezes.

Holly turned to her walking companion and asked if she knew 'The Three Ravens'.

'Start it out', said Bird, 'and I'll try to sing along.

The hobbit sang in a low and pleasant voice as she walked along, her feet keeping time on the road:

There were three ra'ens sat on a tree,
Down a down, hey down, hey down,
They were as black as black might be,
With a down.
The one of them said to his mate,
Where shall we our breakfast take?
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down

[ July 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Wise words indeed Bethberry," Arcon said. "You should not worry so much about that which you cannot change. If you do still have any memories, you should not force them, nor lust for them, it will only cause sorrow either way. If you were meant to remember then you would have by now, be patient." Arcon smiled at Naraamare to show his concern for her problem.

As they made their way down the road, shafts of light came pouring down between the clouds. Soon, the sun was full and warm in the sky. This seemed to lift spirits a bit more, so much so, Arcon resolved to share a song.

"Though I am not a musician of any standard, Haidan indeed recieved that gift. When we were young, he taught me a song that our mother had written. It tells of Aman, the land of our parents birth. I fear I may not do the song justice, but I shall try."

Arcon began to sing softly as he rode on.

Calen i parth er-haeron falas
Tond i galadh ned Valinor
Moe hwest drom ennas anann
A fael a lim i celon laer

Lhun i gaear ned Alqualonde
I gwaloth sila lim ind i aur methed
Faen elenath ned Varda loda-taur or
Ai! fael Aman ned edhellen meleth

"That is all I know," Arcon said regretfully.

--------- Translation of song------------

Green the fields on hither shores
Tall the trees of Valinor
Soft breeze blows there ever-long
And fair and clear the river song

Blue the waves of Alqualonde
The flowers shine on though the day end
White stars of Varda floar high above
Ah! Fair Aman of elven love

[ July 05, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]

[Naaramare]

I seem to be getting a lot of advice lately, Naaramare thought ruefully, smiling to herself. And irritatingly enough, all of it good.

She listened to Arcon's song and again her breath caught, though for a different reason now than before. "Alqualonde . . ." she murmured when he had finished, tasting the word. "Where is that?"

[Birdland]

"It seems I'm not the only one to choose gruesome songs for the trail," said Birdie to Holly, and she continued with another verse:

Down in yonder green field,
Down, a down, hey down, hey down,
There lies a knight slain 'neath his shield,
With a down.
His hounds they lie down at his feet,
So well they do their master keep,
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down

"And speaking of ravens; we seem to have three of our own following us. Perhaps they are looking for breakfast, too?"

Birdie gestured upward with her head. There, in the trees, were three crebain. They flitted from branch to branch, following the progress of the travelers, and they made no sound.

[Bêthberry]

You're quite right, Birdie. Not even a crec-crec out of them. If they stay with us for much longer, perhaps I can whistle for Wyrd to give them something to caw about.

Bethberry herself was quite content to become a listener to the entertaining songs everyone was singing and to keep watch. Had it not been for the silent ravens watching them, it would have been an ideal day simply to enjoy the fine weather. Truth be told, it was a bit of a relief not to have to switch her bag of herbs around constantly to keep it away from the young oliphaunt. Now, she was able to keep a more watchful eye.

The breeze seemed to become stronger, cooler. The ravens were casting long shadows.

[ July 05, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

The day turned a little chilly it seemed as Holly noted the ravens following them. She loosened the knife from her belt and rested her hand lightly on its hilt as she sang the next verse.

His hawks they fly so eagerly,
Down a down, hey down, hey down,
No other fowl dare come him night,
With a down.
Down there comes a fallow doe
As great with young as might she go
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down

[ July 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie sang the next verse loudly, mostly from nerves:

She lifted up his bloody head,
Down a down, hey down, hey down,
And kissed his wounds that were so red,
With a down.
Aru send every gentleman,
Such hawks, such hounds, and...

The words faded and quit. The Crebain looked down on them with unfriendly eyes.

Birdie's shoulder blades twitched. "Not yet," she thought. "Not yet."

[ July 05, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel sighed, and retreated to her own thoughts. Estelarion began to make up a song on his flute as he road. It was another sad song, and Menelduliniel felt the hot tears rolling down her face.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel! Tampo i'neere (stop the tears)! Lle karnos vesta lle n'nallathos au' (You promised you will not cry again)," Menelduliniel chastized herself out loud.

She sighed and started muttering a song to herself ("May It Be" to be exact smilies/wink.gif ).

[piosenniel]

She buried him before the prime
Down a down, hey down, hey down,
She was dead herself ere e'en-song time,
With a down.
God send every gentleman,
Such hawks, such hounds, and such a leman.
With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down

The road had gone eerily still when the last note of the song faded. An air of chilled expectancy swept through the travellers like a cutting wind.

Her hand tightened on the knife at her waist.

[ July 07, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

Raising an eyebrow at Naraamare's interest in the Swan Haven, Arcon replied, "Aqualonde is the fair home of the Teleri in Aman. It lays on the shore of the Shadowy Sea. Long ago, nah, ages ago, a terrible trajedy happened there that all elves mourn for. Why do you ask Naraamare? Is there something about the name that you recongize?"

Arcon looked curiously at Naraamare.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf patted the war steed that had brushed against him, accepted the two apples from Holly, bowed thanks, offered one fruit treat to the black war steed and enjoyed the other himself. He had applauded the mournful lay of Menelduliniel and Estelarion. That was the last time anyone had taken note of his presence. And then somehow, the wizard had vanished from the group undetected, along with his newly-befriended horse. *

[ July 06, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Naaramare]

"It's not . . . " Naaramare began in answer to Arcon, " . . .it's not that I recognize it, I don't believe, but it speaks to me . . . "

The trailing memory-like whisp disappeared and she sighed in frustration. "No, it's gone now, curse it. Ah well." The feeling of disappointment was a little less keen now than previous times, and she managed a rueful smile and a shrug. "Ah well. If it truly was a memory, it may come back to me later."


(ooc: deleted the comment. ^^)

[ July 07, 2002: Message edited by: Naaramare ]

[piosenniel]

The last time Holly had seen Gandalf was when he had stood by the black horse and rubbed the area between the great steed's ears. The wizard had taken the two apples she offered, and she had noted he gave one to the horse, while enjoying the other one himself. This pleased her in a hobbity sort of way - feeding people and creatures always gave her good feelings.

But then the crebain had been noted, as if they had sprung up with the song, and the wizard had disappeared.

Knife still at hand, she continued walking down the road by Bird's side, her attention keener to the surroundings. Periwinkle clopped along close behind her, seemingly unconcerned.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry watched as Holly and Birdie became more wary and she felt the tension grow in her. She wondered if Naaramare, Arcon and Meneldi felt the same chill from the crebain. Their unassuming group had already been observed, so there was little point in trying to hide.

When she saw that Gandalf had slipped away, taking the wraith's horse with him, she became even more wary and suspicious. Not of Gandalf, of course, for long years of friendship had taught her much of the ways of the wizard. Would the ravens continue to trail them or go in search of the wizard? Was the wraith being missed? Not a good omen at all.

(OOC: I've deleted my 'dwarf' post. I'll remove this OOC comment later, once all the extraneous posts are gone.)

[ July 07, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[VanimaEdhel]

((OOC: Okay Gandalf! Done!))

Menelduliniel sat on Salkadome, humming to herself. A branch fell on Salka's rump, spooking him ((OOC: wanted to get the spooking in SOMEWHERE)). He galloped off, with Meneli clinging onto his back. She tried to stop him, but couldn't, considering she didn't have reins to help her.

Estelarion immediately saw his friend's need. He urged Amanroch, his horse, to a gallop and catches up to Menelduliniel. He helps her rein the horse in, and brings them back to the group.

"Diola lle (thank you)," Menelduliniel says, embarassed that she couldn't stop her horse.

"Don't mention it," Estelarion said.

Menelduliniel continued riding Salka very close to Amanroch, still shaken by her steed's take-off and worried he would do it again. Estelarion put one arm around her and embraced her quickly, then let go and worked on his song some more...

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

Arcon nodded as Naaramare spoke, listening to all she had to say, taking it in to ponder over. "I must say this enigma of your past intruiges me Naaramare. Try not to worry much about it for now, little can be done. But if anything should arise, I will be here to help in anyway I can." With that Arcon smiled and nodded to Naaramare. His keen eyes were that of comfort and of compassion.

Turning his attention to the crebain, Arcon sensed a sort of tenseness in the air and in the group. The birds did not so much chill Arcon, but worried him. Such foul creatures only bring sorrow wherever they go. And now with Gandalf gone on a wraith horse, there was much tension in the air.

"If you'll excuse me," Arcon said to Naaramare. He moved Getathane over to where Bethberry was and stopped.

"What does Wyrd make of these beasts Bethberry? Does he know of whence they came?"

[Naaramare]

Naaramare murmured a surprised thanks to Arcon, which he probably didn't even hear, as he'd moved to Bethberry's side.

The offer of . . help had been appreciated. It had taken her very much by surprise--in general, people seemed very willing to commiserate with her and less willing to help, though she understood it.

It was a change to have someone offer aid.

A pleasant one? a corner of her mind asked.

Well. Perhaps. She found herself smiling slightly.

[Bêthberry]

I have not whistled for Wyrd, Arcon, for right now I would rather he remain hidden, or at least separated from us. Were we under immediate attack, he would swoop down to defend us.

He has been circling high above the crebain, which means he mistrusts them, but he is now perched behind them. I think we need to learn who or what it is they seek before we make any move.

[piosenniel]

Closing the distance between himself and Holly, the pony nudged her in the back and nickered softly in her ear.

She reached back and scratched him companionably between his eyes and walked on.

He passed her on the road. Walking a few steps ahead of her and Bird, he turned and faced them, refusing to budge. His head and mane shook back and forth furiously at Holly, though she tried her best to coax him on. He looked back over his shoulder, at the road that lay ahead, and shook his mane once again.

[ July 08, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looks worriedly at the crebain she sees in the distance. She began to speak in Elvish to Estelarion of her sights.

"Llie delai amin (They worry me)," Meneli said, gesturing to the crebain.

"Llie n'sanaithon gurth e'lle (They will not take death to you)," Estelarion assured her.

Menelduliniel still looked worriedly at the crebain. Estelarion reached over and took her hand. "Llie n'naaithos Poldorawen (They are not Poldorawen). N'delo (Don't worry)."

Menelduliniel smiled and went back into her fairly broken Westron, "Well: I do not have to worry about her, at least."

"Not as long as you are out here," Estelarion said, then he squeezed her hand, "Or with me."

"Ha! You know my teacher would have beaten you easily. She killed Amantinu, after all."

"You still don't know that. She, very well, could have been completely innocent. If Lord Thranduil says she was innocent, then she was. Anyway: it's all in the past now...because of you."

"Do you think I wanted to kill her?"

"Uma, Meneli, amin nowon lle umes (Yes, Meneli, I think you did)," Estelarion said.

"O, well...maybe I did, but what business is it of yours?! I'm serving my 'punishment' here in exile...with you!" Menelduliniel said, getting upset.

"Calm, Meneli, calm!" Estelarion said, seeing the familiar fire in her eyes. The fire was when she got hurt doing something stupid.

"I am calm! I am!" Menelduliniel said. She turned and galloped away from the group.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel, il au' (not again)!" Estelarion said, galloping after her...

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"And where they come from too. But that is hard to tell, they could be from as far away as the dark south, from him for all any know," Arcon said to Bethberry with a cocked eyebrow. He moved back to his position at the rear of the group with Naaramare.

"Your welcome," he said with a smile towards the elf.

[Birdland]

Birdie looked at the pony standing cross-wise across the trail. This was more than a balky tired horse refusing to do its duties. Periwinkle acted more like a dog around Holly, and Bird had teased the halfing more than once about her "pack dog". Periwinkle semed to think that there was something on the trail ahead, and he did not want his mistress to go in that direction.

She watched as the heedless elves rode around the pony and continued to canter down the trail. "Someone stop them!" she said.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Someone Did stop them. *

* Menelduliniel and Estelarion found that they'd ridden into an ambush set by nine smugglers. The Elves were met by a hail of rocks, arrows, and daggers. While one chipped rock, a nocked arrow, and two rusty daggers sailed harmlessly past to land with a thud in the tangled grass along the trail, several other missile weapons met their mark. *

* Menelduliniel found herself hit with two rocks, one in the cheek and one in the shoulder. Blood trickled from the wound in her face. *

* Estelarion took most of the damage, having been hit in the side by an arrow, and pelted by two stones, one hitting his neck, the other his chest. The arrow had sunk deep and was firmly lodged in the Elf, bringing stinging pain. *

* Meanwhile, heavy hoofbeats could be heard off to the side of the trail, racing into the fray from the cover of the thicket ... then Gandalf's familiar voice, muttering things about foolish young Elves in concerned exasperation. The travellers on their way to Tharbad noticed a flash of light and heard a few surprised cries from the criminal band of waylayers, but they could not see exactly what happened. It sounded, however, like the danger was not over yet. *

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

There was a bright flash and then yelling. Sure enough, the crebain had held true to their reputation and trouble had arisen. Seeing that Menelduliniel and Estelarion were being attacked by unseen enemies, Arcon spurred Getathane and halted between the two elves, and the attack. Unsheathing his sword to block the projectiles, Arcon looked back at Menelduliniel and Estelarion.

"Car-mae (Are you ok)?" he asked.

"Yes, it could have been worse," Menelduliniel said looking at Estelarion's wound.

"Teli, ego i roch. Tiria-an esgal (Come, off the horse. Look for cover)," Arcon said as he dismounted to help them.

Taking them to the side of the road to a thick grove of trees and high bushes, the two elves took cover under the foliage. "Dar-si ned i band sad (Stay here where it's safe)," Arcon said to the wounded elves.

Arcon looked up at Gandalf and motioned that he was going to flank the attackers. Before he did, he whispered to Getathane and rubbed the horse's star on his forehead. The elven horse walked calmly to Menelduliniel and Estelarion's horses and led them back down the road to safety. Arcon turned and lept across to the other side of the road, into the cover of the woods. Creaping around silently through the tall trees, he made his way behind the area where the attack had come from. He sunk low and raised his blade to his side. He saw them...

[ July 09, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]

[ July 09, 2002: Message edited by: Orofacion of the Vanyar ]

[piosenniel]

Holly heard the sounds of strife coming from down road. Bow in hand, she veered off the pathway, into the trees and made her way quickly and silently, as hobbits do, toward the source.

Seeing a figure just to her right, she crouched down, concealing herself behind a bush. She peeked through the foliage and saw that it was Arcon. She made her way stealthily toward his position and saw he was concentrating on the remaining attackers.

Dropping back a few paces, she crept to the edge of a small clearing to the right of Arcon. The attackers were now between her and the Elf. She could see them clearly from her hidden position.

She knew that once she stepped into the clearing she would have a straight shot at them. She nocked an arrow in readiness.

[Naaramare]

As Arcon spurred away, Naaramare started running after, then paused to wonder what she thought she was doing. She was unarmed and unarmoured and if she had once known how to defend herself, she hadn't the least idea now!

She saw Arcon aid Menelduliniel and Estelarion to the side of the road, and crept towards them to kneel beside Estelarion.

To Menelduliniel, she said, "I know some little of healing; may I help, or if you know more, be of some assistance?"

[Birdland]

Birdie crept off the trail behind Holly, then when in the shelter of the bushes, she spread her arms, shrinking and changing until she had assumed the form of a small, black and white crow.

Flitting to the trees above the hobbit, she checked the area around the clearing, seeing a motley band of brigands, a collection of rusty weapons and tattered finery, obviously stolen from other travelers. Holly and Acron had already spied this group, and had them within their sites.

But they did not see the other figure hanging back from the fray. A tall Southern, clad in black iron mail and dark green cloak. He had an air of command; a captain of highwaymen, who had let his lackeys take on the easy target of travelers walking into an ambush.

But now her was stepping forward as he saw his band being threatened by the elf and halfing. Drawing a short sword, he advanced stealthfully on the unsuspecting Holly from the rear.

"Holly! Acron! Behind you!" screeched Birdie. But the warning cry of the skin-changer drew the attention of the crebain. The three black ravens descended on the black and white crow in mass, pecking at her head and eyes and trying to force her to the ground.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked up at Naaramare.

"N'uma, diola lle, amin istimen sai no' i'malle' sinai cyrenair wanwie (No, thank you, I learned much one the road these years past)," Menelduliniel said, "Nan' manka lle caelos lanne'...(But if you have cloth...) amin anton tanya ten' i'herwai (I need that for the wounds)."

She watched as Naaramare got her some cloth, as she pressed on Estelarion's wound.

"Diola lle (Thank you)," Menelduliniel said, "I'harwa n'naant i'gurth en'Estelarion (The wound will not be the death of Estelarion)."

Menelduliniel bound the wound tightly and held Estelarion's head in her lap, still sitting by the side of the road. As she sat, she quietly drew Tinuanar, letting the bright glow of the burning blade comfort her. She held the knife to her side, concealing it, and stroked Estelarion's unconscious head with the other hand. She looked at the others preparing for a battle that she knew not what with. And who had saved them? And what had happened?

Menelduliniel felt dizzy, but decided that none should know, lest they not let her do her share. She took a rag that she had not used, and wiped the blood that had trickled down her face away. She sighed, and looked around, looking for Amanroch and Salkadome. She whistled, and Salkadome came trotting up, followed by Amanroch. The two seemed to have been left unhurt. She stroked Salka's face as he brought it down to her on the ground.

She sat there, with the horses helping to guard Estelarion, with her knife out, ready to battle if need be...

[Bêthberry]

Wyrd came screeching down from the sky, hitting the crebain almost before they heard his challenge. His claws raked one of the ravens down its back, ripping the flesh open to the spine, while he swooped to pick the second up in his beak, its neck broken. Wheeling around in the sky, he dropped the dead bird and returned to the defense of the small black and white crow.

This time, though, instead of hitting the black raven, he swooped and picked up the crow, carrying her carefully in his powerful claws, away from the raven and towards a small glade behind some of the trees. There, he gently released her onto a bed of moss, hidden behind a rock. Then, he left to find Bethberry.

[ July 09, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Bêthberry]

(OOC: Hope this kind of double post is okay.)

Wyrd's sudden attack halted the forward movement of the Southern highwayman, for Holly was now alerted and frantically trying to find Birdie.

He withdrew back into his seclusion in the trees to prepare a different attack. However, he backed right into Bethberry, who had, like Holly and Birdie, slunk into the bushes when the elves were attacked.

Or rather, he backed right into a stinging handful of finely crushed herbs and oils which Bethberry flung into his face. Startled, sputtering and swearing, he inhaled much of the mixture and began coughing, while his eyes streamed with tears. Stumbling, he flung his sword aside so he could wipe his eyes, for the mixture was also blinding him. It deflected off Bethberry's arm, cutting it, before clattering to the stones on the ground. Before he could tell she was injured, she withdrew, taking his sword with her.

[ July 09, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Birdland]

When the falcon came down from the sky, the first thing Birdie thought was that it was in league some way with the crebain, and thought her end had come. Hope came when she saw the raptor making short work of the carrion crows, only to be dashed when the creature then stooped on her.

Birdie closed her eyes and waited for the feel of dagger-like talons sinking into her breast. "He probably thinks I'm in league with the crebain in some way. What a surprise when he finds himself carrying a dead skin-changer."

Then she felt the lift and swoop of the falcon, and it's feet wrapped around her, yet hardly penetrating her feathers. Birdie opened her eyes in surprise to find herself set down on some moss covered boulders, then watched as the elegant falcon lifted and turned, dodging among the tree branches like a hare in a thicket.

Birdie sighed, wishing, (not for the first time) that she could assume such a remarkable form. Then she let it go. The form chose her, not her the form, and it would always be that way. She leapt down from the rocks and ran back to find the others.

[Naaramare]

Naaramare glanced at Meneli out of the corner of her eye, concerned. The other did not seem entirely steady, as if she had some wound or weakness she was attempting to hide. But Naaramare could not find any way to broach the subject, so she turned her attention to the unconscious Estelarion.

He did not seem to be dying, and one of those maddening past-feelings backed up that idea. So long as nothing futher disastrous happened, he would make it through.

Which is good, I think, she said to herself. Meneli seems to be attached to him. She smiled to herself. It's good to see others happy. I just wish . . .

But she never finished the thought as rough hands pinned her arms and covered her mouth, stopping her from crying out.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The brigand dragged Naaramare away, a wavy-bladed dagger glittering at her throat. In a whisper he warned, * Come quietly my Elvish lass, or you'll find out how deep this new necklace can pinch.

* Gandalf found himself confronted by two smugglers who had taken the brunt of the lightning ball he'd cast. One of them, despite a burned right hand and arm, launched a perfectly-aimed stone that hit the wizard directly between the eyes. The force of the throw being diminished by the pain of the smuggler's burns, the stone threw Gandalf off balance and raised an ugly red welt. Gandalf's newly-acquired black war steed took a few steps back. The other ruffian, having been burned in the face, made a blunderingly stupid attempt to shoot an arrow at Gandalf, but only ended up tripping over his own bow and falling in a heap, shrieking curses all the while. *

* Meanwhile, a smuggler aimed a careful slingshot at Arcon. The stone flew truly through the air, catching the Elf in the neck enough to draw blood. An enemy bowman scored a hit on Arcon's horse, Getathane. While not a deep wound, the horse began limping after the arrow delved into the area above its left foreleg. *

* One of the highwaymen threw a dagger at Holly, but the dagger whistled harmlessly over the Hobbit's head. A second dagger thrown by another opponent went wild, slicing into the first of the two knife-throwers. *

* Menelduliniel, still in a slight daze, thought she heard someone trip over their own feet close nearby. *

* The Southern Leader of the smuggling group bellowed and clawed at his eyes, leaving Bethberry free to do as she would. *

* In all the confusion, nobody took notice of Birdland. *

[piosenniel]

Holly stepped into the clearing and fired two arrows in rapid succession, picking off two of the marauding southrons.

A third surprised her from the left with his club, knocking the bow from her hands and toppling her to the ground.

She lay, sprawled on her back, her head ringing, with a fiery pain in her left shoulder. Her blurry sense of vision could see the large brigand standing over her, his club raised to deal her a mortal blow. Too dazed to move, she offered a small prayer to Eru, closed her eyes, and prepared to meet her doom.

Holly heard a loud yell of pain and disbelief. She opened her eyes, only to see the body of they brigand go sailing over her prostrate form.

She raised her head in wonderment, just in time to see Periwinkle wiping his back hooves on the turf as if to remove all taint of the brigand's behind.

She smiled, and fainted dead away.

[ July 10, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf spoke soothing words to the black horse which he rode bareback, bidding it be calm and still. The horse stopped, eyeing the adversaries in front of him. *

* Furrowing his brow in concentration, Gandalf raised his staff with a sweeping motion in the direction of the smuggler with the burned arm. The smuggler levitated off the ground and was swept as if by a silent wind into the highest branches of a nearby tree, too high off the ground to pose any further danger. *

[Bêthberry]

Luckily, no force lay behind the sword's hit on Bethberry's arm, so the cut was not deep. It did, however, require wrapping and binding if Bethberry was to continue to help the other travelers, so she lost track of some of the actions of the brigands.

The cut bound, she skirted 'round some trees in time to see Gandalf treating one of the highwaymen to a panoramic view of the road. Then she saw in front of her the brigand with his dagger at Naaramare's throat. He was dragging the young elf towards her, hoping to escape through the bush.

Bethberry looked at the sword she had taken from the Southern man. She knew she could not wield it to kill, but perhaps she could use it to stop him. She held it out, low on the ground, while he concentrated on holding and moving Naaramare. She hoped she could hold it steady with her injured arm. All she wanted to do was free Naaramare.

His cloak blocking his view, he tripped backwards over the sword and nearly cut Naaramare's throat with his dagger, but she was quick to twist and roll away. Bethberry then threw another handful of her stinging herbs and oil into his face but she didn't stay around; her arm was throbbing too greatly. Neither did Naaramare.

[ July 10, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Naaramare did not need the brigand's warning. She didn't even need to attempt to tap into her uncooperative not-quite-memories to tell her that when someone has a knife to your neck, you don't struggle, lest you should die.

But it was those uncooperative not-quite-memories that reminded her how to twist out of the way when the brigand fell. Still, the blade brushed lightly against the underside of her chin, stinging badly as she rolled away.

She scrambled to her feet and ducked away, cursing the brigand in all the languages she knew, and some that she only knew the curses out of. Not quite sure what had caused the brigand to stumble, the incident had brought one thing very clear:

I need to remember how to use a weapon. Or learn again. Soon.

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

The wound that the sharp rock cut in Arcon's neck stung but wasn't deep enough to be bothersome at the moment. Quickly pulling out a simple dagger from his boot, Arcon threw it straight and true at one of his attackers, finding it's mark in the neck of the highwayman. "Curse your sling, though it shall do harm no longer," Arcon said to himself.

A scream of pain and a clank of sword on stone came from behind the elf and he turned quickly to see Bethberry carrying a slightly rusted blade, falling back behind a blinded highwayman. It was too easy, and Arcon almost regretted attacking a handicapped enemy. But the man's intentions would be the same if not for his sudden impairment.

The robber opened his eyes, only to see blurry figures and shapes about him, and light streaming down through the tree tops. As he turned to look around him and gain his bearings, he met Arcon head on. "Aaaarrgghhhh," the man screamed as his arms were pinned back behind him. As was the usual manner of highwaymen, the man was ignorant and stubborn, not knowing when to acknowledge defeat. He spat in Arcon's face. The elf quickly broke both arms and drew his sword once more, cleaving the lower halves of each leg out from under the man. "Spit at me, and you will find yourself stagnating in your own filth, dog of men" Arcon said as he stepped over the broken man.

Sheathing his blade, Arcon ran back to the road. Then he stopped. Looking across the way, there was Naaramare, held hostage by one of the filthy men. "Get back! Back you evil elf! I'll slice here if ye' come any closer!" the man yelled at Arcon.

The highwayman didn't notice Bethberry come up from behind him and throw more blinding herbs and oils into his face. He quickly released Naaramare, who made a hasty retreat back to the safety of the woods with Bethberry. Arcon lept across the road and easily took the man's head off as he spun around with sword drawn. It landed with a thud and rolled into the bush, and his body fell limply to the ground.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The rest of the smugglers ran away as best they could, except for the one suspended at the top of the tree. *

[Birdland]

Battles start and end quickly, though when you are in the middle of them, time seems to move slowly.

When Birdie ran back into the clearing, all seemed to be over, and it was quiet except for the the sound of combatants catching their breath, and the groans of the wounded - whether friends or enemies, Birdie could not tell yet.

She did not see Holly at first, but Birdie saw Periwinkle standing near a clump of fern with lowered head. He was hovering over the limp form of the halfling tinker.

"Holly!" cried Birdie, and kneeling down, lifted her head and listened for breath. "Holly! Wake up! Talk to me!"

[piosenniel]

'Bird?!' she groaned.

'There seem to be two of you . . . all sort of wavery and . . .'

The hobbit turned green, rolled to her side, and politely, as hobbits do, threw up on the grass.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel's head began to hurt more and the world became more and more blurry.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel...that's not good for an Elf," Meneli whispered out loud to herself.

Slowly the world stopped spinning and slowly became black, as Menelduliniel fainted and collapsed over the still-unconscious Estelarion...

[piosenniel]

Bird gave her hand to Holly and helped her to her feet. The world had stopped spinning, but the beginnings of what would prove to be a grand headache were just making themselves felt.

'Hey, Bird!' she said, looking about slowly, where are all the others?'

Periwinkle came to her side and nickered softly.

[Bêthberry]

Carrying her herbal satchel awkwardly in one hand, Bethberry wound her way back through the bush. She caught up with Arcon, who refused any immediate attention, saying he would search the bush around them to ensure a safe perimeter. He strode off through the woods, his bloody sword still dripping at his side.

Bethberry then turned to the clearing on the path, where Periwinkle stood near Holly, sniffing around her with disdain. Birdie was holding Holly, who had regained consciousness, up.

I will need a fire for hot water, for I must clean and rebandage my arm. As soon as I move it, the wound commences bleeding again. Gandalf, if you are unhurt, can you get one started?

Gandalf immediately replied to the affirmative and started a small fire, disappeared for a bit, and then returned with two kettles of water for heating.

Bethberry pulled a small smudge pot out of her satchel, which Gandalf lit for her and placed on the ground near the elves. Soon, the smoke from the dried aster and comfrey would work to help Menelduliniel and Estalarion regain consciousness. Perhaps the smudging would even help clear Holly's head.

Bethberry filled the smallest kettle with agrimony and yarrow, for washing wounds. With a cup, she took hot water from the other kettle and prepared an infusion of horehound for Holly to sip, to counteract the nausea and vomiting. She wouldn't let Holly eat anything else, not until they knew she was recovered. Birdie helped Holly over to sit on the ground near the smudge pot by the two elves.

The daughter of Goldberry and Tom then invited Naaramare to wash her neck with some of the water, yarrow and agrimony and gave her a small poultice of arnica, to guard against bruising and swelling where the highwayman's blade had pressed against her throat.

Birdie, come back here if Holly is okay. I saw scratches on your arms. Come, wash them with this cleansing water to ward off any infection and wipe them with these beardtongue leaves.

Finally, Bethberry unwrapped the drenched swaddling around her arm and bathed it, too, with the agrimony and yarrow until the water ran clean and clear of blood. Placing some bistort leaves and a crushed stalk of horsetail over the cut, she then asked Gandalf to wrap a clean linen around her forearm, tightly.

She gave to Naaramare some maralroot and lemon for the other pot of boiling water, to make a soothing drink to boost the travelers' endurance. Needing rest herself, she then sat down and leaned against a tree, whose coolness was a welcome relief to her.

She closed her eyes. If only those young elves had not been so headstrong and foolish as to ignore Periwinkle's intuition, then perhaps none of them would have been ambushed and harmed by the brigands. She hoped they would soon come out of their swoons.

[ July 11, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

The cut had hardly hurt at all when Naaramare had been so very terrified, but now, with fright worn off, it began to ache. She gratefully accepted Bethberry's poultice, pressing it against her neck and sighing in relief as some of the burning pain eased. In a slight daze--nothing serious, merely post-adrenal exhaustion--she put tea on and stared into the fire.

It took several moments for her to realize that their party was one short . . .where had Arcon got to? Frowning furiously, she gazed quickly around, not seeing him.

Sighing, she hoped he wasn't hurt. Males did that--got hurt in battle without even noticing, then ran off to scout when they shouldn't have, making their injury worse. She remembered--

Suddenly sitting up straight in an unconscious reaction, Naaramare pounced on the errant memory. Most of it fled, but out of it she got a face, a figure: tall, dark hair, grey eyes, and a sense of someone older than herself, but very important.

Not much, but more than she'd ever managed to seize before, and she yelped in triumph before she thought. Aghast, she clapped a hand to her mouth, embarrassed by her outburst.

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion was first to gain consciousness. He rolled over and looked over to his left, where he felt a body just barely touching him. He was still a little groggy, but when he saw that the body was Menelduliniel, he awoke completely, and quickly rose. He moved around and put her head in his lap, as Menelduliniel had previously done to him, and looked down at her.

"What has happened to her?" Estelarion exclaimed, angrily.

They explained to him that she would be okay, but he still looked angrily at them.

"This is all your fault! You should ha-" Estelarion started to accuse, when he was cut off by a soft voice below him.

"Estel? I heard part of that...it is not their fault..." Menelduliniel nearly whispered, having just opened her eyes near the end of the company's explanation.

"Then, whose fault was it?" Estelarion said, still apparently upset, but with a gentler voice.

"Mine...it was mine...I almost ran off again...remember last time? At least it wasn't like then..." Menelduliniel weakly flinched at the memories of the physical pain. Estelarion helped Menelduliniel up into a sitting position, and she put her arms around Estelarion's neck and began to cry. He gingerly put his arms around her, obviously a little uncomfortable and a little unused to the affection.

She cried for about an hour, while everyone else tended their injuries. When she finally lifted her tear-stained face, she looked into his eyes.

"Wait...where are the horse?"

Estelarion looked around and saw them. With one arm still around Menelduliniel's waist, he took the other and pointed, "Over there," he said. She followed his finger and saw them safely grazing.

"Well, thank Manwe for that gift...at least they were uninjured..." Meneli said, her arms still around Estelarion's neck. She turned back to him and embraced him again, tearless this time...

[Birdland]

Bird watched in a befuddled manner as Bethberry seemed to pull an entire cornecopia of herbs and poltices out of her satchel, and tended to eveyone's wounds, however minor, before finally treating her own injuries.

When she came to look at Birdie's scratches, she waved the herbalist away, partly out of guilt at such mothering from someone who was obviously much worse off than herself, and partly because she did not want Bethberry to look too closely at the talon marks, and wonder how they got there.

"By Earth and Sky, sit down!" grumbled Birdie, waving her away. "Now, what is it we can do for you? If you tell me what to prepare, I think I can manage it. My boiling water hardly ever burns." she smiled.

Suddenly the elf-maid Naaramare gave out a strange yip, as if she had been startled by something. Birdie started and looked around, finally returning her gaze to Naaramare. Whatever had produced the strange reaction, it was nothing that Birdie could see.

The elf-riders were huddled to the side of the trail, one crying pitiously and burying her head in the shoulder of her companion. Bird understood THAT reaction right enough. In her younger days, it had worked fairly well for her too, when she chose to use it.

Shaking her head, she muttered one word under her breath: "Elves!"

[ July 11, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel dried her eyes, and got up, fingering the strange scar visible on her stomach and remembering still...

She suddenly gave a little jump that scared Estelarion as she came out of her flashback

"Oh!" she exclaimed, causing Estelarion to jump, "I'm here...oh...not there anymore...pain gone...all gone..."

She looked and realized she'd been running her hand over the scar, and she quickly stopped and pulled her silk tank-top over it, hiding it.

She looked around to make sure none but Estelarion had seen the scar. She could not tell if they had or not though...

"So," she said, addressing anyone, "What do we do now?"

---------

Estelarion sighed as he saw her run her hand over the scar. She had never stopped messing with it, even when it was the ugly open wound it once was. She was lucky it did not infect...ah, well, that was her luck: something like that would get her and she'd survive with only a scar. If he weren't there though, she would have been dead. Estelarion wondered if she knew that.

After she startled him, Estelarion got up and began to prepare both his things and hers. He put a hand to his side, and felt the bandages that were obviously Meneli's, by how tight they were. She claimed pressure stopped the bleeding, and it seemed to...

Then Menelduliniel asked, "So, what do we do now?"

((OOC: Just trying to give you 2 points of view, there))

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Having helped Bethberry bandage her arm and seeing that his friend was now resting with her eyes closed, Gandalf looked around to see if anyone else yet required assistance. Patient and shivering stood Arcon's horse Getathane, with splats of blood from the arrow lodged in his foreleg seeping onto the ground below. Hearing Birdland volunteer to provide restorative care and comfort, Gandalf turned to her. *

Birdie, have you experience tending to the hurts of horses? An embedded arrow can be tricky business, doing more harm coming out than going in. If nothing else, we can bind up the area with cloth and await a decision from Arcon on his return from scouting.

* The black horse from Mordor nibbled grass. It shook its head and neck from time to time. The horse's mane, matted and tangled, and a general sheen of dirt, hinted at exertion in battle and habitual neglect in the stables of the East. *

[Bêthberry]

A smile spreads over Bethberry's face, which then breaks out into a hearty chuckle in spite of the weariness and soreness visible on her face.

Point taken, Birdie. You be the judge of your own care. But I warn you, hang around the wizard long enough and you will see water burn, I promise you.

Gandalf, see if Getathane will let you use some of the water with the agrimony and yarrow to wash his wound.

[ July 11, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

Holly had recovered from her blow enough to help out with the needs of others.

She called Peri over, and reached into his saddlebags for a small pot of 'Heals-All' salve, and the curry comb and brushes.

To Bird she gave the pot of salve, knowing that her friend always liked to minister to her wounds herself.

She reached into a small bag on Peri and pulled out two lumps of sugar. One she gave to her pony, being sure to let the black horse have an unobstructed view of the treat. The other lump she held out in her open palm, and advanced slowly toward the great horse, talking softly all the while.

He was fractious, and his great eyes seemed a little wild and wide as he shied away from her. But she stopped,& continued to talk to him gently. He came forward, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent. Finally, greed overcame fear, and he came to her and took the sugar from her hand.

She reached up and touched him lightly with her free hand. His skin trembled at the unfamiliar gentleness. He quieted, and stood still, shaking his head as if agreeing to the touch. She ran both her hands down his near flank, increasing the pressure as she went along, accustoming him to the rhythm of her touch. He watched her as she placed the brushes on her hands and stroked him gently, and then more firmly - brushing away ages of dirt and grime and neglect . . .

[Birdland]

Birdie looked doubtfully at the Elf-Horse Getathane, standing with head down, as blood still trickled down his leg.

"The horse might stand for salves or poltices, but no beast I know of will cooperate while you remove an arrow from their flesh. The horse would have to be drugged to tolerate such a surgery, and I don't know if even Bethberry has enough sleep potion to keep him calm through such a painful procedure. (For Birdie knew that the arrow shaft would have to br broke off, and the head of the arrow pushed out through the flesh, rather then attempting to pull it from the wound.)

Birdie looks speculatively towards the three elves remaining in camp. "It's said that the Elf-Folk have the power to communicate with their animals. Can one of these enchant another Elf's horse enough for us to do this work?"

[ July 12, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

Holly had brushed the horse til her arms ached, and combed the tangles from his mane and tail. He gleamed like a vibrant piece of polished ebony. He arched his neck when she had finished and gave a great trumpeting whinny as if to call attention to how grand he looked.

The hobbit stepped back to view her work, and saw Bird trying to soothe Arcon's steed.
Drawing nearer to them, she saw the horse had an arrow which had pierced his foreleg.

She called to Meneli: 'Elf, will you come and aid us? It is Arcon's horse; it has need of you.'

She looked at Bird and said, 'We must get the arrow out of his leg before infection sets in and he loses the use of it.'

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel shook herself out of her little stupor and ran over to the horse. It was funny: she felt more sympathy for wounded animals than Elves, Humans, Hobbits, Dwarves, anything of that nature.

She stroked the horse, and it immediately settled down. She reached down, and whispered to the horse not to be afraid. She gently grabbed the end of the arrow, and pulled it out VERY quickly. The horse gave a little jolt, but did not budge. She stroked it's neck and whispered that it was a good horse. She looked at the wound and gently touched around it: the arrow that pierced it had not been poisoned, thank the Valar.

She then went to her pack and got out a needle: the one she had used to sew her Warg-fur coat, and some black string. She stroked the horse gently, while cleaning the wound, and quickly and deftly sewed up the cut.

"If it would not have been walking on it, it would not have needed that," she explained, "But this should keep it closed from infection."

She took the bandage she had brought, and tied it securely around the horse's leg, but not so much as to cut off bloodflow.

"Now: you should be fine, melaramin (my love)," Meneli said soothingly to the horse.

"The horse should be fine now," she said simply to the others, then went over to her horse, Salkadome, and gave the horse a big hug around the neck.

[Birdland]

"Well done, Menelduliniel!" Said Birdie. And her opinion of Elves in general went up a small bit. Not greatly, but a little.

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Getathane holds fast and does not suffer injury as severe as most, he has suffered far worse," said a voice coming back down from the road, "It seems you have taken the liberty to treat him, I thank you." Arcon came back down the lane, sword sheathed, blood slightly trickling down his neck. He stopped and bowed to the group standing around helping his horse. "I have herbs for use in healing any wounds he might recieve, and it appears Gethathane shall need some now."

Arcon went over and rubbed his horse's forehead and patted his neck. He talked softly to the horse in elvish, which instantly calmed the steed due his master's return. Arcon inspected the wound, studying it closely for a minute, patted Getathane's neck once again, and walked over to Bethberry.

Upon seeing Naaramare safe, with a look of slight exhiliration in her eyes, Arcon smiled at her, realizing what happened. Turning to Bethberry, "I believe I will need you help my dear Bethberry," Arcon said softly and politely. "That is if you are up to it? I need you to boil these herbs," he said, removing a handfull from a leather satchel on his belt, "until the aroma is fragrant and the water thick. I will try to bring Getathane closer to us, to see exactly what condition he is in."

[piosenniel]

By now, early morning had turned to mid, and so by hobbit reckoning, it was time for second breakfast.

Holly's stomach had settled into its normal routine, her headache now being gone, and she poked about in one of her satchels for a bit to eat.

The wounded seemed well taken care of by the healing talents of Bethberry, so she and Peri and the great black meandered to back to the road, where Holly munched on some dried fruit and the horses satisfied themselves with the grasses at the edges of the road and the occasional dried apple from the hobbit.

[ July 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Bêthberry]

(OOC: piosennial, could you please correct my character's name in your previous post? Many thanks!)

Bethberry's interest was piqued by Arcon's presentation of a healing herb for Getathane, for here was a piece of elven lore which she did not know. She wondered what herb it was.

I am too tired to go back to the stream to fill a fresh kettle, for my arm is shaking slightly when I move it. The large copper one on the fire has only agrimony in it, used for cleansing wounds. Could your herb be added to that without any change to its affect? Are you boiling it down to make a poultice?

Bethberry turned to Getathane and whispered a song on the air, encouraging him to limp towards the fire towards his master.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel prepared herself to set off again, her wounds feeling much better.

"When do we move out?" Meneli asked everyone, impatiently.

Estelarion, on the other hand, was quietly sitting by a tree, nursing his injury, still a bit dazed.

"Meneli: we may want to rest here a bit," he said.

She saw him and went over to him.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot...I am sorry," She embraced him, but he flinched and moved away, still in pain.

"This pain is my doing," Meneli said, guiltily.

"No, no it's not...I should have seen...I should have paid closer attention...I should not have let you run off at all...I shouldn't have argued with you...it was my fault Meneli, not yours." Estelarion held Meneli's hand as he said this.

Menelduliniel looked into his eyes and seemed satisfied, "If it is what you say, Estel, it must be true."

She quietly busied herself, getting her packs ready...

[Naaramare]

The image of the unknown elf lord from her memory stayed sharp with Naaramare despite her embarrassment and the odd looks she got from a couple of the party. She hadn't meant to yelp like that, but being able to hold onto anything of the past--even something so pittantly small and unimportant--made her want to dance in rejoicing.

A practical side of her pointed out that the image was useless. Any description she could give from it would apply to far too many elves--after all, how many tall, dark-haired and grey-eyed males were there in the world?

She ordered that practical side to be silent.

At Arcon's return, she sighed in relief. His horse might be hurt, but he wasn't. She returned his smile, then heard Bethberry say that she was in no shape to get water.

"Bethberry, where is the stream? I can go get water for Arcon's herbs."

[Bêthberry]

Thanks, Naaramare. It is about thirty paces south, through those bushes to the left. Once you have walked in about ten paces, you can hear the stream burbling. The bank is not steep.

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

"Of course Bethberry, I apologize for my haste. You are in no condition to go retrieve water," Arcon said. Upon seeing her interest in the herbs he had produced from his satchel, Arcon opened his hand to show Bethberry what the herb looked like. He held in his hand ground leaves of green with bits of silver that seemed to gleam in the high afternoon sun.

"It is called avoredlothia, quick-bloom in the Common Tongue. This herb is made from the petals and stems of a silver flower that rarely grows now, and only in the west, past the Blue Mountains. It blooms only in the twilight and quickly, hence the name. Not many know of it save the Grey Elves of Forlindon, for it is very old, older than the elves. It grew wild in the forest of the great land before it sank long ago, and the land needed to grow the quick-bloom went with it."

"Yes, boiling is needed to bring about the herb's healing properties. A film develops on the surface of the water, and it begins to thicken. A poultice is indeed what I am attempting to achieve. It keeps the wound from inflaming any further and releases a healing effect as it seeps deeper into the flesh. The agrimony will enhance the effects I believe, preventing even further, the chance of infection."

Just then Naaramare, who had been holding her hand over her mouth as to not make any noise spoke up. She offered to go retrieve some water from the stream. Both Bethberry and Arcon gladly accepted. "I will go with you, highwaymen may retreat, but still linger around certain areas."

Getathane, who had made his way over to Arcon and Bethberry, limped up to the two as Arcon stood. He went over and spoke softly to the horse in elvish and rubbed his head. Getathane raised and shook his head in acknowledgement. "I'll be back my friend," Arcon said. He turned to Naaramare, "After you," he said, extending his arm outward towards the way of the stream.

[Bêthberry]

First age herbal lore! Now that would be something to talk about back home, thought Bethberry.

She watched curiously as Naaramare and Arcon walked into the bush for water. There was plenty of water boiling in the pot with the agrimony, which Arcon had said would futher the healing actions of his quick-bloom. So there must be something else which distracted the two elves from what was at hand.


(OOC: I hope you guys don't mind this. I'll delete/ change it if you wish.)

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Following Bethberry's directions for the stream, Naaramare thanked Arcon for accompanying her. "It's odd," she explained. "I have this feeling I used to be able to defend myself, because despite repeated examples of my . . .lack of martial skill, it always takes a moment to occur to me that I'm fairly well helpless."

She made a wry face to make light of it, but it still bothered her a little.

Bethberry had been right; hardly ten paces later, she could hear the stream and thirty paces later she almost stepped right into it.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Eventually, the group of travellers and their horses recovered enough to resume their journey. By nightfall, they arrived at the Trade Inn at Sarn Ford. *

* The black horse newly freed from Mordor had to be forcibly held back by Gandalf from entering the Inn. Snortingly, it refused to go into the stable, and so was left to graze as it would and fend for itself during the night. *

* Inside the Common Room, an orange-crackling fire sang its warm greeting to the smell of baking bread and mulled wine simmering and sighing its aroma from a comfortably large kettle. Gandalf was just about to ask Bethberry how her arm was holding up. At the same time, he was thinking ahead to a hoped-for conversation with Holly regarding the extent of her background as a traveller outside the Shire. Holly's answers would let Gandalf know whether it would be wise to have a Hobbit attend the meeting of the Rangers of Sarn Ford along with Bethberry. Given the two attacks that had befallen along the road, it might also be beneficial to have the Elves sit in on the meeting. As for Birdland, Gandalf sensed something unusual but had no idea what to make of her. *

* As the group entered the Common Room, two Men towards the back bolted from their table, overturned a chair, spilled a Hobbit's ale, knocked down a servant bearing a tray of coffee, milk, cinnamon rolls, and butter, ran out a side door, and slammed its creaking wood shut. *

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Birdland]

Birdie watched the two men vacating the room in what could almost be described as a state of panic. After the curses and shouts of the disturbed patrons had died down, and the innkeeper was busy mollifying his customers with refills, she turned and gave the wizard a knowing look.

"Friends of yours?"

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* From outside came a sharp neighing, the yelp of a man in pain, shouting ... all sounds duly muffled by thick round panes of smoked glass that served as the Trade Inn's windows. There came a strange nudging sound. One of the windows opened from the outside. A familiar black horse poked his head inside, chewing away on torn trouser fabric. *

I'd say our war steed is even more closely acquainted than I, dear Birdie. smilies/smile.gif

[piosenniel]

Holly had gone over to help the hobbit. Not only had his ale been knocked over, but so had he, in the haste of the men to reach the door.

She gave him a hand up and fetched him a fresh pint while he dusted himself off, and pulled his vest into order.

He invited her to sit with him, and she got herself a pint and sat down across from him at a low wooden table.

After a few long pulls at the tankard, Holly leaned forward with her elbows on the table and introduced herself.

He raised his drink to her, and said 'Glad to meet you, Mistress Holly. I'm Olo Gardener from Michel Delving.'

Leaning closer, she asked him, 'Who were those Men who were so rude and hasty in their leaving, Olo?'.

'Best not to talk about such things in here,' he whispered, 'but if you'ld like to take a short stroll with me, and dip your toes in the Brandywine, I could tell you tales to put you off your feed for a day or so!'

'Let me just tell my fellow travelers where I'm going, then I'll be right with you.', she said, taking him up on his offer.

Holly found Bird sitting by the fire, warming her feet, sipping on a cup of mulled wine. She told her she was going out for a while and would be back soon. Bird waved her on and helped herself to another cup of the tasty brew.

Most of the other companions were engaged in conversation among themselves, and not wanting to bother them, she slipped out quietly.

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel aided Estelarion in dismounting, then followed the rest of the group into the Common Room.

She sat, talking to Estelarion for a bit, then she looked around.

"Everyone!" Meneli asked, getting no one's attention, "Where is Holly? When did you last see her? Anyone?"

Everyone shook their heads that they had not seen her...or at least they admitted not to...many did not even look up. They were too absorbed in their own conversation to listen to her...as always...

"Oh, great," Estelarion breathed to himself, grumpily.

"Who will go look for her with me?" Menelduliniel said, standing up, already set on leaving to find her.

"I wi-" Estelarion began. Meneli cut him off.

"N'uma mellonamin! You are still injured...who ELSE will come?"

Meneli noticed Gandalf smiling to himself in the corner...

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Meneli? What are you talking about? Don't you listen? Holly distinctly made a point of telling us where she was going. I saw her leave just now, myself, with a new Hobbit friend by the looks of things. Holly wants a bit of privacy, and if you weren't so distracted, you would have heard her tell Birdie that she'd be back soon.

* Gandalf laughed heartily at Menelduliniel, who was obviously in a scatterbrained state of mind brought on by flirting with, sighing over, and staring at Estelarion. It appeared that the young Meneli could not see or hear anything else while her beloved clouded her senses and her judgement. *

(OOC: You'd know that, Vanima Edhel, if you would have read piosenniel's post more closely and carefully. Or is this all part of the role-playing and Meneli is seriously this confused? Please take the posts of your fellow role-players into consideration when you post, okay? Since piosenniel said that MOST were engaged in conversation, and you claimed that NO ONE had any idea of her whereabouts, it looks like there's a slight discrepancy. Please allow for the fact that some of the OTHER role-players might have in fact noticed Holly's absence, without automatically making assumptions and speaking for them. ANYONE, for example, could have seen Holly talking with the other Hobbit. And Birdland, for instance, knows Holly's whereabouts ... please let Birdland decide whether to share this information, rather than jumpinig to conclusions by saying "Everyone shook their head no." I bring this up because this seems to be a similar case of confusion like when a certain two Elves rushed pell-mell into an ambush after Holly's pony should have warned against such danger. smilies/smile.gif)

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry, who was not one to be easily ruffled or disturbed, had remained sitting, quietly observing the strange actions of the unruly travelers and Holly's thoughtful assistance to the hobbit who had been upended, sipping her tea and eating her seedcake unassumingly.

Once Gandalf had finished talking with the always and ever distracted elves, she spoke up.

Gandalf, can you help yourself to some tea or ale and seedcake or is there more for you to be concerned with?

To tell you the truth, I cannot remember when any of my travels in search of herbs have brought me so readily into such troubles. Even those I've shared with you before! Something is afoot in the Shire but I cannot place a handle on it. Things and people are falling out too often and too easily. Or am I letting that first encounter weigh too heavily on my mind?

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Naaramare blinked at Bethberry's question. "Has it been an uncommon amount of trouble?" she asked, curious. "Such had not occurred to me; I had thought this region to be untamed . . ." She shrugged, embarrassed at her ignorance. "But I have nothing to judge it against, I suppose."

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Of course, Bethberry. * Gandalf had a pot of jasmine tea, mugs of ale, seedcakes, butter, and honey brought to the table for Bethberry, himself, Naaramare, and any others seated with them. *

Your search for herbs should be well-rewarded at Tharbad, my friend. They say the rarest varieties are to be had in the vicinity of Maladil's Castle, though it's best to avoid the castle itself.

I share your sense that trouble is afoot. Even the Trade Inn is tainted with it, as you've seen for yourself. Most curious is the unwillingness of the local population to come forth with aught they know. It's even affected the way folks travel. Such a wariness, that keeps people separate and silent even when walking together in company.

But let us speak of other matters. How fares your arm? If you wish, we can arrange to have a local healer look at it.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked at Gandalf hard.

"She did not tell all of us," she said, angrily. She stood up, and went outside to get some fresh air, and to cool off about no one listening to her when she was upset about Holly, and about Gandalf's ridicule of her. On the way out, she somewhat unceremoniously kicked Estelarion out of the way. He grunted in brief pain, which she ignored, scowling still, and moved out of her way.

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Bêthberry]

Major OOC comment, which will be deleted:

*coughs slightly and somewhat uncomfortably, as a way to introduce the topics of what was said and of how to disagree with each other*

This is what piosennial posted:

Holly found Bird sitting by the fire, warming her feet, sipping on a cup of mulled wine. She told her she was going out for a while and would be back soon. Bird waved her on and helped herself to another cup of the tasty brew.

Most of the other companions were engaged in conversation among themselves, and not wanting to bother them, she slipped out quietly, and unnoticed.


Thus, it would appear that your assumption--

I assumed she meant that she told no one, because so many were busy..

--cannot, unfortunately, be supported.

Also, if you would please read the recent interchange between Gandalf and Orofacion on the discussion thread, you might see that people can disagree about their posts and reach a compromise or resolution without getting angry or hostile.

Disagreements and misunderstandings and even mistakes are all part of the human condition, particularly on the 'Net, where printed language is our sole form of meaning and where it is often difficult to understand each other. (Gandalf and I have often misunderstood each other.) Learning to respond to these situations without anger and without taking offense is a big part of learning how to make the best of the human condition.

Respectfully,
Bethberry

[Birdland]

(Birdie stirs grumpily by the fire.)

"By the One, Elfling! She's outside talking up a likely Hobbit lad! Sit down and have some wine!" She then muttered to herself, not for the first time, "Elves!"

Bird then settled herself more comfortably into her chair. The fire was warm, the wine was VERY good, and Holly could take care of herself.

As for Rangers, Birdie had little care in the matter. She knew very well that these cloaked wanderers had the ears and councils of people more lofty then her. If Rangers were about, then trouble was brewing. And the common folk of Middle Earth could just hope to get out of the way.

But first, another glass of mulled wine!

By the third glass, Birdie had reach that sweet, melancholy state that was just perfect for the place and time. Idly she watched the flames and sang a song to herself:

"If I danced with my feet
As I dance in my dreaming,
As grateful and gleaming as Death in disguise -
Oh! That would be sweet,
But then would I hunger
To be ten years younger,
Or wedded, or wise?"

[ July 17, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Kettle of fish]

The large kettle over the fire shifted uncomfortably then sat still in case anyone had seen.
It was dangerous to appear anything other than a perfectly ordinary kettle when there were men who would sell any oddity or just as likely melt you down to see what made you talk.

[Bêthberry]

Enjoying the tea and the rare opportunity to chat with Gandalf, Bethberry watched Birdie watching the fire until she began to imagine figures in the flames herself.

Naaramare, an untamed region is not in itself violent and uncivil. People fear the Old Forest but that's because they don't pay close enough attention to the lay of the land, to how things exist and how they interconnect. The same kind of troublemakers which we've run into can be found even in such a city as Minas Tirith.

Gandalf, thank you for asking about my arm. Now that it is in the sling and kept still, it feels much better.I don't think a healer will be necessary. Maladil's Castle, you say? Do you have any tales to tell of it? I am ready to ply you with all manner of seedcake and even, Longbottom Leaf! What do you think, Naaramare? Are we due a good tale or a serious warning? A grin spreads over Bethberry's face as she looks forward to a good chat with her old friend.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf smiled and applauded Birdland's song. It was a silly little ditty, and for that reason, entirely enjoyable! * Very good, Birdie! As a poor reward for your efforts, please allow me to cover the cost of your wine and supper this evening. smilies/smile.gif

* Watching Bethberry watching the flames, Gandalf sent a thin stream of smoke from his fingertips into the fireplace, changing the colors of the flames from purple to green to blue. * Am glad to hear you're recovering, my dear Bombadil friend.

* Relaxed at being in such good company, Gandalf told the sought-after tale. * Maladil's Castle ... abandoned, crumbling, home now to wild things and worse, according to whispered rumor. Some precious metals to be found within, along with the rare herbs growing outside as I already mentioned. Not a place for the inexperienced to venture ... nor even a good Ranger, should he be alone. Now is that a story worthy of seedcake and pipeleaf? I leave it to you to judge. smilies/smile.gif

* At the mention of "precious metals" ... two wide eyes gleamed from a nearby table where a lone country Hobbit had crept to sit alone and listen to the assorted Big Folk. Podo Cotton of Overhill had just earned himself a tidy sum of gold on his last business trip away South, but was always happy to hear talk on the subject of riches to be had. At that moment, a servant came to take Podo's order. * Preciou ... er, ah, pretzels, yes, that's what I meant! Pretzels it is, then! And a pint of beer.

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

Arcon sat and listened contently at Gandalf's tale of the castle at Tharbad. He sipped his hot cider quietly and enjoyed the atmosphere of the inn, the warm fire, the hints of pine from the wood rafters above, and the company of the group. Gandalf's smoke from his pipe brought back memories of years ago, on another adventure the wizard, Bethberry, and he had.

Occasionally Arcon would chime in from time to time to agree on some matters, or share some insight on others. "Indeed Bethberry, it is good to hear your arm is doing well. Such danger on the road is probably due to our Stormcrow here," Arcon said laughing in jest, "For wherever our friend Gandalf goes, a trouble or two is sure to follow. But of course, I would have it no other way." smilies/smile.gif

"Preciou ... er, ah, pretzels, yes, that's what I meant! Pretzels it is, then! And a pint of beer," said a voice from another table. Eyeing the newcomer out of the corner of his eye, Arcon continued to sip his cider in peace, not showing his attention.

But finally he got up and made his way to the fire to where Birdie was sitting. She looked quite comfortable, her face was serene and calm. "May I join you Birdie, even though I am an elf?" Arcon asked with a sincere smile.

[piosenniel]

Holly had stopped Olo just as they'd gotten out the tavern door. 'I need to see about my pony before we go down to the river. Come with me, if you like, I'll introduce you to Periwinkle.'

'Now that's not a common name for a pony.' commented Olo, as they walked toward the stabling area. 'However did you pick that name?'

'Well', said Holly, 'I found him when he was very young, standing in the middle of an area filled with small blue flowers - Periwinkles. And look at his coat, brownish all over with bands of darker brown running through it - like a Periwinkle snail from the ocean, near where I grew up. Periwinkle was just a natural name for him.'

'When you put it that way, I guess it sure is!', said Olo.

They were just about to pass into the stable, when Holly saw a tall man in a grey cape, hood obscuring the features of his face, leaning in a casual manner against the corner of the building. He was hard to see by the light from the moon and stars, except for the thin spirals of smoke that drifted upward from his pipe bowl, and outward from his exhalation.

'Southern Star', she thought to herself,'if my nose doesn't deceive me.' She nudged Olo. 'Who's that man, smoking by the corner of the stable.'

Olo looked the man over carefully, and then hurried her inside. 'It's one of those Rangers.'he said. 'Keep to themselves, mostly. Usually don't get many of them around these parts - just one or two, passing through quickly. But lately, there've been more of them and they seem to be staying around longer.'

She shivered slightly at his words. But then, all thoughts of rangers and watchers in the dark left her head, as she saw Peri and ran to see him.

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie set the kettle on the fire swinging idly with her foot, and sighed with contentment. Now this was what traveling companions on the road were for. Good company, good stories, and a free supper!

Arcon came over and stood by the mantel, looking down at the settled skin-changer. "May I join you, Birdie, even if I am an Elf?" he asked smiling.

Bird gave him a speculative look, then waved her hand airily. She was feeling magnanimous.

"Why of course my Lord Ac...err...Arcon. Though the price of a seat tonight will be a tale." She smiled and pulled a stool over with her foot and singled to the bar maid for another jug.

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

Having made sure that Peri was well taken care of, Holly turned back to Olo. The two hobbits went out the stable door and toward a path leading to the river.

Holly glanced at the corner of the building where she had seen the Ranger, but he was no longer there. She shrugged her shoulders and gave it no further thought.

Once at the river's embankment, Olo led her down to a sandy bar where they could sit on a large flat rock. The perimeter around them was free of any vegetation or rocky outcroppings where anyone might hide.Sitting with the water burbling over their toes, they felt free to talk quietly without being heard.

Pulling out her pipe, Holly filled it with 'Old Toby' and then offered the bag of leaf to Olo, who had retrieved his pipe from his vest pocket.

They sat smoking in companionable silence for awhile, gazing at the clear night sky, and pointing out the occasional shooting star as it arced its way across the dark dome.

'So, Olo,' said Holly, cleaning out the bowl of her pipe and knocking out the residue on the rock beside her,'tell me, what of those two men who knocked you down in the tavern?'

Olo drew closer to her and dropped his voice lower. 'It's not only the Rangers that we've been seeing more of around here. They're not a bad lot, just a bit stand-offish. It's the other traffic that we've been getting that has me worried. Men coming from the south and east, a nasty lot by the look and feel of them. A dark feeling, sort of twisted - like a once healthy plant, its heart all gone rotten with hidden weevils, if you get my meaning.'

She nodded at him, frowning, and urged him to go on.

'Why just a day or so ago,' he began, 'those two fellows had . . .'He was cut short by the sound of footsteps on the sand behind them.

Holly stood quickly, drawing her knife to throw it, and whirled to face the intruder. Olo brandished his walking stick.

'Put away your knife and rest easy, my little friends. I've come to escort you back to the safety of the tavern. Night is well upon us and there are creatures in the dark who would just as soon see two hobbits dead as to let you go on talking - especially the subject you were on.'

'What subject was that?' challenged Holly, who did not care to eavesdropped upon.

'The one we will no longer discuss here, in the open.' said the intruder stepping close to them.

It was the Ranger, the one from the stable. He lead them back to the tavern, discouraging their questions with his silence. Standing in the courtyard there, he watched them until they entered the door.

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry laughed with wholehearted glee as the flames impersonated a colourful display of fireworks. She nodded her appreciation, but then took a different approach.

Hummph, Gandalf. I'd say that barely merits a second slice of seedcake. A good-natured grin spread across her face.

Why, you have told us nothing about why the castle was abandoned or who the inhabitants were. An ill-fated couple who died childless? A dark and secretive lord? An old and honourable family come upon hard times? An inheritance cheated? Any hobbit worth the Shire could have told us a longer tale of geneology.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bethberry observed the interest of a hobbit sitting nearby, well dressed, who appeared to be a traveling merchant of some sort. She returned to her little critique.

So, are these precious metals a magnet for the troublesome types or does some other kind of taint haunt the castle? Good herbs growing so close a nasty place invites much speculation. I'm prepared for a long night of convivial talk, my old friend, and...

Her words were cut off as everyone looked up to see Holly and Oro unceremoniously marched through the front door of the Inn. They had about them the air of young 'tweens who had just had their adventurous wings clipped and were being sent back to the smial for safety. Bethberry turned to Gandalf with a more sombre mood on her face.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel wandered into the forest and sat cursing, crying, and muttering to herself in a very un-Elfish manner...

After some time, she got bored with all of this, and she came back into the room quietly. Estelarion gestured to her, but she ignored him, still grumpy. She quietly went back to a log by the fire and the kettle, and sat there, staring into the fire, blinking back her remaining tears...

--------------

Estelarion lay on his back, and slept with his eyes open, as was common for Elves to do. He tried to find a way to lay that did not hurt where Menelduliniel kicked him, but finally gave up. He saw her come back in, and sat up and motioned to her. She looked hard at him, then ignored his gesture and went across the room.

"A, women..." Estelarion muttered to himself, "Who can understand them?"

[piosenniel]

Holly looked about as she entered the tavern. The buzz of conversation had come to a halt as she and Olo entered the room. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as all eyes stared at them. Then she looked back at Olo and both of them burst into laughter, more from relief than from any actual hilarity.

This broke the silence in the room and once again the rest of the customers turned back to their former conversations, the incident of the returned hobbits quickly forgotten in the ebb and flow of other gossip.

Holly made her way to where Bird was sitting, well into her cups by now, and sat next to her. Olo had gone to get them two pints of house ale, and had stopped to talk with a friend of his on the way.

She sat on the rug and pulled her knees up under her chin, her arms clasped about them. Staring hard into the flames she wondered about the road ahead. What had seemed so familiar now had the hint of shadow on it.

[Birdland]

Bird sat humming happily to herself; then, knowing it would bother her friend Holly to no end, said:

"So, I see you had to be escorted back to the inn by one of those Rangers, eh?"

The desired effect achieved, she then watched as Holly's new friend wove his way back towards the fire, two ales in hand. (Bird did not resent the lack of a third ale, knowing that the grape and grain should never mix.)

Leaning low, with back turned towards Acron, she whispered to Holly: "Did your new acquaintance happen to mention any word of a 'Castle Maladil'?

[ July 18, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

The history of Maladil Castle? I was just getting started, Bethberry.

Late in the Second Age, Maladil forfeited his Elven immortality and married Adela, a mortal woman. They had a son named Kenelm, a daughter named Calimie, and a host of beloved servants.

All was well until Adela died. Then, Maladil repented of his decision to give up his immortality. One night in a drunken rage, he swore a mad oath that unless Kenelm sailed West and convinced the Valar to restore his immortality, his fëa would refuse to depart Middle Earth, but remain inside the castle through all eternity, though his body die. Maladil further swore that neither would the Valar take his children or servants the way his wife had been taken, and that Kenelm, Calimie, and all his servants would share his fate.

Within the week, Orcs raided the Castle and slew all the inhabitants in their sleep. But the Orcs stole away no treasure, for the ghosts of Maladil, Kenelm, Calimie, and the servants drove off those who dared disturb the precious metals and other finery. It is said the ghosts guard the Castle to this day, and that Calimie passes her long hours by tending the ancient herb gardens on the Castle grounds.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry listened with rapped attention to the elaboration of the story of Maladil castle which Gandalf gave. The story bore all the traces of a true yarn and Gandalf lost no opportunity to tell it with a disciplined reserve all the more fitting for a story of such bitter truth. http://www.uniquehardware.co.uk/server-smilies/contrib/corky/corkysm60.gif

Bethberry nodded solemnly although her eyes shone with appreciation for the extent of Gandalf's knowledge.

My wise friend, your story is all I could ask for, and much more. A foreboding tale that calls for at least an ale and pipe. Can I buy you ale and offer you the leaf?

[piosenniel]

Holly took the remark from Bird good naturedly, or at least as good naturedly as a pint of good ale can encourage. And besides, it was no use trying to get one up on Bird in this matter, she had been brought back by a Ranger.

She listened to Gandalf's tale of the castle, its riches, and the gruesome beings which now inhabited it. He was a wonderful storyteller, knowing just when to draw out a pause for effect.

She had noticed, sitting at another table, a hobbit listening intently to each word. What interested her was that he didn't seem to over react to the descriptions of the grisly family, but seemed more focused on the parts of the story where the words 'treasure'and 'riches' came up.

'Interesting', she thought to herself, and filed the thought away as Olo brought over another set of full pints, and a glass of spiced wine for Bird.

[ July 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry looked over at Holly, who was obviously forgetting the incident with the Ranger in her interest in Gandalf's story.

Aye, Holly, you're on to something. Gandalf's timing is superb. But then, he always arrives just when he means to, eh, friend? *friendly nod in the direction of the wizard.*

Rather like the fortuitous timing of our approach to you on the road, eh, Arcon? *a cheery smile with sparkling eyes accompanies this question to the Eldar*

Bethberry then beckoned to the publican, who came over and acknowledged a whispered request with a nod. Quickly he returned with several large fruit pies, bumbleberry, gooseberry, strawberry and rhubarb, which he cut into substantial pieces, and served on plates for all the Tharbad travellers, including Meneldi and Estalarion who had sat at the side away from the othes, as well as Birdie, Arcon, Naaramare, Holly and her friend Olo, Gandalf, and Bethberry, with a hefty serving of cheese slices on the side. As Bethberry handed him several pieces of copper as both payment and tip for the pies, she saw the merchant hobbit's eyes grow wide at the sight of the pies. She turned to him to address him.

It would appear that we have more than enough pie for all our company. Would you care to join us in its disappearing act, Mr. Traveller? My name is Bethberry.*a welcoming smile plays upon Bethberry's face, in case the offer of pie were not incentive enough to join the group.*

[ July 19, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

Bird set her piece of strawberry rhubarb pie on the low table near her, and went back to her perusal of the flames, cup of wine in hand.

'Are you going to eat that,Bird?' asked Holly, pointing to it with her spoon. Bird shook her head 'no', and pushed the plate toward the hobbit.

'Thank you!', she said in delight. She motioned Olo to come closer and share her bounty. Soon the two were tucking in to the pie slices with great gusto, taking bites from each other's plates, and praising the baker who had made such a light crust and such tasty fillings. More praise was heaped on Bethberry for thinking to order such delights.

When the last bit of crust had been spooned up,and the last drop of sweet filling swiped from the plate with a sticky finger, the two hobbits sat back and gave sighs of satisfaction.

Bird had fallen asleep in her chair, her feet to the embers. Holly got up to cover her with her cape and took the cup from her hand.

She saw that the hobbit from the other table had come to sit near Gandalf and Bethberry and was plying the wizard with questions about his story. Nudging Olo on the arm, she whispered, 'Let's go sit over there. I'd like to see who that fellow hobbit is, and why he's so interested in that old story.'

Olo groaned and got up to follow her. Halfway there he brightened at the thought that perhaps Gandalf would tell another story, and perhaps after the story there would be more pie.

[ July 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

An ale, a pipe, and a choice of pies is a sumptuous reward indeed ... made all the better through the pleasure of your company, dear Bethberry. Who else but a true Bombadil could make such a fine hostess, as to make everyone feel at home while away from home? smilies/smile.gif

* Gandalf, still hungry from the road's adventures, launched into a thick slice of cheddar cheese and gooseberry pie. The tart green berries were given just the right delicate sweetness with a combination of brown sugar and honey. *

* Holly and Olo came over to the pie-laden table. The two were just in time to catch the name of the country Hobbit, who'd been listening so intently to the tale of Maladil Castle that someone had stolen his beer right from under him and he'd had to order another. *

Gracious, it's an honor to meet you, Bethberry. Podo Cotton of Overhill, at your service. * Podo bowed in the best Hobbit fashion while looking out of the corner of his eyes at the assorted fruit pies, lest someone steal them too. * We're too far South for Buckleberry pies, I suppose. Had my fill of 'em last year when I won the pie-eating contest. But it's not always July in Hobbiton, is it? Oh, where are my manners? Thank you Bethberry, for sharing your dessert and your table!

* Podo then plopped himself down in a chair, so uncomfortably close to Gandalf that if only Podo were taller, the Hobbit would have been breathing down the wizard's neck. In between bites of strawberry rhubarb pie, talking with his mouth full, Podo let loose a torrent of questions about castles and gold and dangers and gold. * After all, * the Hobbit finally asked * ... what harm can ghosts do in broad daylight? smilies/rolleyes.gif

* Gandalf for his part did all he could to answer his Hobbit inquisitor with the most unhelpful vague grunts possible. At times one wondered whether the old wizard had gone hard of hearing, for some questions went unanswered altogether. *

[ July 20, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry was pleased, really, really pleased in a deep-down contented way, that all the Tharbad travellers were finally sharing and enjoying a convivial dinner together. Well, all but Birdie, whose soft snores provided a kind of gentle background rhythm to the dinner. Perhaps there would be a piece of pie left over for her for first breakfast tomorrow morning.

It was, as well, healthy to see that the haunted, worrisome look on Naaramare's face was diminishing a bit, almost like a palimsestet, as a small glow of fellowship began to shine on her face. She obviously was relaxing a little.

Not quite so pleasant was the look on Gandalf's face as he was crowded by Podo Cotton and plied with all manner of thoughtless questions. Bethberry herself was quite relieved that her mouth was full of sumptuous bumbleberry pie and cheddar cheese, for she was conveniently inconvenienced in not being able to reply to all of the hobbit's questioning. She resorted to nodding and tilting her head, raising her eyebrows, mummering occasionally, in order not to appear thoroughly uncivil to the hobbit.

It would appear that nothing much was to be learnt about the road from this hobbit, whose attention was so thoroughly directed to things superficial.

[ July 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

Holly looked askance at the hobbit sitting next to Gandalf.

'My goodness,' she said, as an aside to Olo, 'they grow some rude hobbits in Overhill, if he is any example!' She watched him, crumbs spilling down his vest, asking nosey questions, and gesturing at the wizard with his spoon to emphasize his points.

'I'm surprised the cook hasn't come out and threatened him with her rolling pin for his off comments about the pies.' replied Olo, watching as Podo reached for the last piece of gooseberry pie.

Holly reached across the table with her knife and claimed the slice. Podo drew back his hand hastily.

'Oh, sorry!,' she said, smiling prettily. 'I didn't see you wanted that! My friend, Peri, is awfully partial to gooseberry pie and I thought to bring him a piece. I hope you don't mind? Seeing as I've already stuck my dirty knife in it.!' Her smile widened even further as she drew the pie pan toward her.

'Be my guest.' said Podo, who had already turned his attention to the bumbleberry pie to the left of him.

Olo followed Holly toward the inn's kitchen. 'Where are we going?' he asked.

'Peri really does like gooseberry pie, and I thought,if we went quietly out the kitchen's back door, we might avoid that Ranger.'

[ July 21, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofacion of the Vanyar]

Arcon sat casually eating a piece of simple apple pie and drank a small glass of dark wine. He looked over at Bethberry and raised an eyebrow as Podo devoured slice after slice of pie, in a very sloppy manner. The constant barrage of pointless, often redundant questions to Gandalf began to annoy Arcon slightly. "What an obnoxious little fellow," he thought to himself.

But Arcon quickly threw off this thought and went back to his pie and wine. Filling fullfilled after his dessert, Arcon stood and streached. "I believe I shall go for a walk under the stars," he said to the group, " and would welcome any company. I thank you Bethberry for the sumptuous pies, they were most enjoyable," Arcon said. He bowed to all the company and bid them goodnight, tied his cloak around him and walked to the door.

[piosenniel]

Olo and Holly made their way through the kitchen, stopped only once by the cook who was just setting up things for next morning's breakfast. 'And where might you young folk be going?' she said, standing directly in their path with her arms crossed across her chest.

'It's Olo, Goodmistress! Surely you recognize me. I've brought my friend Holly back to meet you. She was going on so about your delicious pies that I said I would take her to the source.'

Holly came forward, and made a small curtsy to the cook. 'Your pies are so wonderful, ma'am! They remind me of the one's my dear mother used to bake. I just had to meet you!' She smiled winsomely at the woman in front of her.

The cooks mouth began to twitch, and her shoulders followed. She let out a long hearty laugh, and wiped the tears from her eyes. The two hobbits looked at each other, befuddled.

'Now what is it you two really want from me?'asked the cook.

'But we really do like your pies!' chimed the hobbits in unison. 'And,' said Olo, looking at Holly, 'We would like the use of your back door if it wouldn't be too much trouble.'

'Go on, then.' said the cook, shooing them toward the rear entrance. 'You've given me a good laugh for the night.' She looked at them thoughtfully and added,'Be careful, you two. There are strange comings and goings of late. Stick close to the inn, and don't go off wandering.'

They went quietly out the door, checking carefuly for any sign of the all too helpful Ranger. They were halfway across the courtyard to the stable when they saw Arcon exit from the front door and stride down the path.