RP: Crimson Sword

[Arcanjo]

OK, my first post here will be an RP, and I hope you guys join and enjoy it.

Please, keep things as reasonable as possible and try to actually go deep into your character. I shall also ask you to post a short profile of your characters in your first post of this topic, so we all can know who the characters are.

I shall take place as Calixto, an elf archer warrior who has been with the Rafflensher royal family for many of its generations. And I shall also be other characters in this RP in its course of development.

Have fun! smilies/biggrin.gif

[Arcanjo]

This is the story of a sword, a sword that had existed for more than many human lifetimes, and that had brought an end to more lifetimes than one may count. This is the story of a sword that killed kings, destroyed kingdoms, saved helpless people in danger and created heroes that went on time to become legends or even more: myths.

It all started when the world was young and rich, when time was friendly, when forests went deep into the land, when the mountains were unexplored and everything was new. In those days, there was a dragon, a fierce red dragon with wide spreading wings, fire burning breath, heart freezing eyes, stone hard skin and god-like anger. This dragon was and is, for he still lives, Smyern. Smyern was the Lord of many many lands, feared and hated in all corners of the Earth, every living being who could speak was afraid of saying his name, al that could listen were afraid of listening to his name.

Smyern was omnipotent in his will, and nothing could stop him, until, one day, the gods were bothered by him. Not that Smyern would challenge the gods, but these gods thought that Smyenr was not letting the world blossom into all the beauties that they, the gods, had forseen. Se the 9 mighty gods united and decided to put an end to Smyern’s realm of terror. The 9 mighty decided to send a holy warrior, of remarkable power, unique strength, solid determination and pure will to challenge and destroy Smyern. So then they created Horus.

Horus was sent to the world to challenge Smyern, and so he did.

Horus and Smyern fought for years and years. They destroyed much of the world, flattened mountains, dissipated landscapes, displayed more power than these words may describe. After timeless fighting, Horus defeated Smyern, as he struck his mighty blade deep into Smyern’s chest, but Horus perished. For Horus was in flames as he gave his last blow, and the flames consumed him, leaving nothing but his sword inside Smyern’s chest.

Smyern fell to the ground and slept for eras and eras, having the world regrown under and over him. On the day Smyern awoke, he had less than a shadow of all the powers he once had, and he then decided to fly to the Dragon Lands, where all dragons go when they are ready to meet eternity. Smyern dwells there now. But Horu’s bade was still in Smyern’s chest as he woke up, and it got lose from Smyern’s chest when he awoke, having fallen to the ground. But Howu’s blade had been in Smyern for so long, that it had become stained red as Smyern’s blood once were, and such stain was eternal, so it became the Crimson Sword.

Many Men, Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes came across the Crimson Sword through time, and each of them claimed it to themselves, and the Crimson Sword was taken from and to all parts of the world until the day it came to the hands of King Rafflensher XXIII, of the Kingdom of Rafflensher.

Rafflensher XXIII, as all of the kings that had preceded him, died in combat. Rafflensher died in the Hill Lands of Tor-Naman, and the Orcs of Tor-Naman laid their hands of the Crimson Sword and they took it deep into the Rargtor Mountains.

You, my dear RP players, are what is left of the Rafflensher’s Royal Guard, and you must be on a journey to claim back the Sword that was once of Rafflensher XXIII. The journey starts as you leave the gates of the Rafflensher castle, you shall only return once the Crimson Sword is recovered.

The first part of your journey shall be getting on the road and heading towards Wyilin, the last city of the Kingdom of Rafflensher.

[Cimmerian]

Sounds eerie, very well written and very Ancient Egyptian. Maybe it would make a better fanfic.

Now that's two very new members posting for Indy RPGs. Excellent.

But shouldn't you people get into the pre-existing ones to get a feel of this forum and the gameplay at the RPGs.

Try it, you'll like it.

I will join this RPG as it is a good story.
But first - Make two threads, one for the Discussion and one for the game, so thaT the game isn't interrupted by all the intros and OOC posts.

Great possibilities here, good luck!

[Arcanjo]

Calixto stands besides the closed gates of the Rafflensher Castle, it is a foggy cold morning of the early autumn days and the sun has yet to show it's intent for the day. And then he says: Are we all ready? The journey shall be long and we do not have a fixed date to return.

[Arcanjo]

C'Mon guys, all you have to do is post in here, it's not that hard.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn, the Green Lady of Rohan, shifted uneasily in the ranks of the Guard of Raffenshler. Her father had objected to her going, and she mused on his words now, which told her that if she did not take her rightful place among her people, she would come to no good end. Gwyn snorted. How could she help all people if not to labour against the forces of evil? That is why she had joined the Guard of Raffenshler.
Gwyn looked sideways at people she confessed to herself that she had never seen before. to her right was a man, presumably of Gondor with long white hair and startling grey eyes. To her left was an Elf maiden with uncharacteristic chestnut hair. Gwyn shrugged. She'd know them all too well soon enough.
She stared ahead at someone she did recognize: Calixto, who had been with the family before she was born, and was therefore considered an expert on the Raffenshlers. Gwyn sighed exasperatedly.
Could we just get going? she thought to heself, gazing around the gloomy castle courtyard with impatience.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood tall and proud at 6feet6, his white armour gleaming in the first rays of the pale morning sun, his white hair blowing in the soft breeze. He held a longsword, a magnificient sword that was the pride of his family for generations.

He was a grim, silent man. His tragic past causing him to retreat in a shell. He enlisted to the forces of Raffenshler to have a purpose in this sorry life. He looked at the people near him, and the one who presumed to lead this journey. They were as detemrined as himself. He had nothing to live for, his wife and daughter being slaughtered by Sauron's minions, his life now is in the sevice of ridding the world of such things foul.

He looked over the horizon and watched a falcon swoop elegantly over the castle walls. Holding out his hand, he allowed the majstic bird to perch. Tickling it's beak, he whispered,"And how are you this fine day, my pretty! What news have you for me."

The bird cocked it's head and stared into his eyes and Bulvard seemed to know what it was thinking. He led his horse Arod by the reins and approached Calixto," I have bad news, there is an amassing of the creatures of shadow beyond the hill yonder.

"What course do you have in mind to set for this journey, Calixto?"

[Arcanjo]

Bulvard, I am thinking on us going through the hill lands and then crossing the Leftrex River. It's the fastest way and we shall arrive at Wyilin in no more than 5 days.

Calixto then looks at everyone, and notices some suspicious faces and some not so animated faces. - Worry not my friends, we will come back with the Crimson Sword, and we shall honor Rafflensher XXIII. May our journey start now. - Calixto jumps over Clifftail, his horse, and they go on through the road.

As they follow through the road, Calixto asks to Bulvard - What about the creatures Bulvard, what do you imagine them to be?

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn mounted her Palomino horse, Jael, and started off, following Calixto and his comrade, Bulvard.
"There are Wargs to the North," she answered Calixto's question to Bulvard, "and the waters are dangerously cold at this time of year." Gwyn nodded politely to Bulvard. "You must be Bulvard, if I'm not mistaken?"

[Elenna]

Elwyn turned to Gwyn and tried to smile encouragingly. "I am getting a little impatient myself. What precisely are we here for?" The gloominess of this courtyard was beginning to oppress the elf-maiden's heart. She longed for the clean air and greenish light of Mirkwood, her home. But she had joined the Guard of Rafflensher of her own free will, and would make the best of it. "If only there were some elves of Mirkwood here." she thought to herself.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn smiled - using her most common expression, distant yet polite - and answered Elwyn's question:
"We are here to recover the Crimson Sword of Raffenshler III," Gwyn said, "It was stolen when Raffenshler died." Gwyn sat back in her saddle, musing on days gone by. "I was on border patrol - protecting innocent villagers and the like - when the news reached me. I had wanted to go with the rest of the guard to the Wars, but I thought it best to stay where I thought I was needed." Gwyn's face took on a wry smile, laughing inwardly at her own mistake, "But it seems that my thinking was incorrect."

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard looked at the two women as they conversed, they were beautiful to the eye, but Bulvard was far removed from such pleasure, his heart was heavy and his thoughts grim. They were worthy comrades in a common cause none more.

Turning to Calixto, he said,"My falcon, Aronja gives me sight beyond sight, she tells me that there is a legion of foul beings gathering across those hills, the Lady Gywn is correct, there are many of the Warg among them."

Looking at the Lady Gwyn he said, "Yes, Milady, I am Bulvard, a man of Gondor, if I remember well, I believe I served with your brother in battle, alas I am sory for his fate."

"You have suffered a loss as great as mine, man of Gondor, there is no need to be sorry," The Lady Gwyn answered, smiling slightly.

Bulvard acknowledged Gwyn and nodded at Elwyn, she could be a few seasons older than his daughter he felt, if he would not have lost her those many ages ago. And he soon faded in this troubled thoughts.

The company rode on.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas rode his horse, Eldoros, hard and fast toward the gates of Castle Rafflensher. He was late to attend the summons and hurried on. Reaching the gates, he was lucky enough to catch up with the party that was just leaveing.

"Hail!," he yelled,"Do not leave without me."
"Make haste then, stranger." someone said.
"I am Harolas of Mirkwood, I wish to be a part of this company," the elf replied.

He urged Eldoros on and caught up with the leading group of the party.
There was another elf with them, a young and beautiful elf from Mirkwood. Harolas had seen her before but hadn't quite met her. He approached her and nodded.

She smiled and said,'Welcome, fair Harolas, I am Elwyn Arianwen of Mirkwood,"
"Yes, fair maiden, I know," Harolas smiled back. and she smiled again.
The others were far more grim than them in this company. The most sullen was a white haired man, possibly of the Gondor, he silently rode on a white horse, almost no expression on his stony face and alongside him rode a beautiful lady, a human possibly of Rohan, she hardly spoke either but smiled at Harolas when he joined the group.
The Leader of the group, a tall young elf, elegant and stately rode ahead alone.

Eldoras was tired and in need of a good drink, they would soomn near the river, Leftrex.

Harolas began to hum a soft tune and hoped Elwyn would join in.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn smiled at the newcomer, although she was inwardly wishing that Bulvard had not mentioned her brother. Thengel II had been rash, stubborn, and often foolish, but he was also brave, courageous and kind. Gwyn had admired and loved her younger brother, and she was hit the hardest when he died in Gondor.
Trying to tear herself away from troubled thoughts about troubling memories, Gwyn instead looked at Bulvard's falcon.
"Aronja is a great falcon," she told him, "when and where did she join you?"

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard noticed the newcomer, an elven archer was always welcome. But he made no acknowledgement, instead he turned his grey, paladin-like eyes on the Lady who addressed him.

A faint shadow of a smile creased ever so slightly across his graven expression, albeit with much effort.

He replied, "I have had the company of this fine creature since the days she was a mere fledgling. She has served me well, she is my extended vision. A strange occurance has allowed me to know what she thinks and sees. I do not fully understand the machinations of this gift."

The Lady Gwyn looked admiringly at Aronja and smiled," She is also very beautiful and elegant, a queen among her kind."

Bulvard nodded and turned to face the path ahead, it was long, hard and treacherous. This was a dangerous quest and might verily cost some of this company dearly.

[Arcanjo]

Wargs - Thought Calixto to himself - those wargs must be comming down from Hill-Lands. Wyilin will be in great danger if they plan to attack it. Deep thoughts troubled Calixto, as he wondered if they would already face perils having not even left the Kingdom.

** Bulvard, how far away are the Wargs? Can Aronja tell you where they are heading to? **

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas moved up toward Calixto and rode alongside. He nodded at the Elegant elf and asked, " What manner of threat do we face, will a few archers and swordsmen suffice against the evil that the bird has spotted ? Should we not await for the arrival of sturdy comrades before we brashly undertake on this perilous quest?"

Calixto looked at Harolas, irritation writ across his brow at this impudent young one challenging his authority. "Time is what I have little of to spare, Elf of Mirkwood,' he said, " Even as we speak the Crimson Sword nears the grasp of the evil ones, all will be lost if we tarry any longer. Fear not for there are many friends and allies to aid us as we go along."

Harolas nodded again and dropped back, letting the steel eyed Bulvard and the beautiful Gwyn pass him by. As he sidled up to Elwyn, he smiled and said, " We may be in for more than bargained for." She nodded and whispered, " But we are ready for all such eventualities."

Harolas resumed his hummed song and Elwyn joined in softly.

[Elenna]

Elwyn smiled quietly. Her wish had been granted. She had never met Harolas before, but already she felt as if she knew him. The song he hummed was one that reminded her of her childhood in Mirkwood.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor Istavaira sat astride her beautiful mare, slightly away from the others, looking around at them. She always tried to remain calm- emotion was not something she tried to show that openly- but she felt excitment bubbling up inside her.
Being a powerful magick user she could easily press into others minds, constantly feeling the press of others thoughts against hers.
"....i wish there were other elves of mirkwood here..."
She turned to look at the nervous looking elf near her. Forgetting herself, she didnt realise the elf hadnt spoken aloud and replied.
"Sorry, I cant help you there, human through and through!" She drawled smiling. Elwyn looked at her surprised and Elanor realised her mistake, but not really being one for apologising OR being embarrased, she covered it up.
"Oops!" She said, not embarrassed, more cynical. Elwyn gaped for a moment at her, still wondering, before holding out her hand to the human.
"Im Elwyn, elf of mirkwood."
"Elanor Istavaira, witch of nowhere in particular." She did not accept the hand, not meaning to be unfriendly but not being used to being so sociable, or trusting. Elwyn lowered her hand uncertainly, but realised the mysterious witch wasnt being nasty.
Elanor looked up to the sky, greying, and didnt need to use any fancy skills to make her next comment. "Looks like we're in for nice weather then." Her voice was sarcastic as ever. "Rain. Yay."
As the group started to move Elanor put up her dark, midnight blue hood, almost covering her face. She sighed in anticipation, slinging her staff across her back in its sling.

[Cimmerian]

The tall white haired man looked over his shoulder at the hooded woman. She was one versed in the dark arts of magick, of things Bulvard didn't understand much and feared. He looked away as she gave him a wry smile.

"The warg are moving along the northern rim of the hills, they will be upon Wylin in a day and half. We need to intercept and deter them." His voice low and cold, Bulvard answered Calixto.

Calixto looked grim, he hadn't expected his war party to be tested this early, but no matter, he had faith in this gathering. Warg were mindless killers, easy prey for seasoned warrior the likes of which he had assembled. But Orcs and Uruks would pose a greater challenge.

"We will stop them from advancing any further," said Calixto, " Onward!"

Bulvard patted Arod and let Aronja soar up ahead, he unsheathed his ancient longsword.

The horses reared up and galloped ahead. The hunt was underway.

[Elenna]

Elwyn drew her sword, smiling a little to herself. Finally, a battle. This was for what she had been trained. She stared fearlessly ahead as the first Warg charged the guard. A large black warg was leading them, his eyes red. He leapt for her horse, attempting to rip it's throat out. Seeing her sword was no use against this beast, Elwyn pulled her spear out of it's loop on her saddle.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor caught one of the mercenaries eyes, and smiled wryly at him. He turned away embarrassed and...hurt? So many emotions were churning inside him. Who would have thought so brutal would think so much? She resolved to get to know him better...
Looking forward sharply the witch saw the pack of wargs approaching. Ah. She thought. I can only get to know him if there is actually a later though. Rain and a fight against wargs. Fun.

The red eyed leader gave a deep, eerie howl and leapt forward. Elanor gulped inwardly; she was not used to battling with such creatures.
The wargs leapt forward, teeth bared and one landed right on Elwyn beside her, who attacked it with a spear. Looking around again, the witch saw another one coming straight towards her, eyes gleaming. No time for magic. More sudden measured are needed here!
She sat stock stil, her hands in the wide sleeves of her cloak, as the beast rushed towards her.She satred it straight in the eye with her own rather unnerving ones. The warg leapt and she still did not move until it was flyingover the haorse head towards her...
Quick as an adder, she whipped out one of the golden sais in her sleeve, stcking it deep into the creatures chest. The creature whimpered as its snarl died on its lips and
it fell dead to the ground.
All around her her comrades were fighting couragiously, but it seemed to a losing battle.
More desperate measures are called for methinks... she thought as she removed the staff from its sling on her back...

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

With skill borne of years of practice, Gwyn drew her sword and swiftly ended the life of the nearest Warg. To distract herself from the pain she felt about her brother, Gwyn occupied herself in the aiding of her comrades and companions from the Orc menace. Even as she fought, Gwyn could not help wondering about the others - whom, try as she might to prevent it, she was already attached to - and how they were faring. With a glance out of the corner of her eye, never once distracting her main gaze from her foes, and smiled. She knew then that she had joined up with the best fighters in Middle Earth, and she feared not for their safety. Like a human whirlwind Gwyn tore through the Wargs, going at a steady pace, unti the teeth of one especially bold Warg - although he paid for his bravery - bit Gwyn on her swordarm, leaving a wound from elbow to wrist. Gwyn nearly dropped her sword then, as she shook off the Warg and turned from the battle. At the back of the lines she fell from the horse, and tired to bandage her wounds. She cursed herself inwardly for letting her guard down, for allowing that Warg to penetrate her defences. The pain was too much for Gwyn, and she damned her weakness as she felt herself slipping into unconciousness.

[Cimmerian]

With careful and precise strokes of his ancient longsword, Bulvard hewed off a few heads of the wargs that surrounded him. Hearing a cry he turned to find the Lady Gwyn fall off her horse, but a few well aimed arrows from the elf archers slew every warg that moved in toward her unconcious form.

The two young women fought well, one appeared to be in awe of the predicament while the other enjoyed herself. Calixto fired rapid succession of arrows at the warg that were still pouring out from across the hillside in vast numbers.

Bulvard rode into the mass of feral beasts that kept up the onslaught and his sword flashed bright amidst the splattering of blood and warg body parts. His eyes wore a look of pain and hatred as he tore into the foul creatures. Aronja, the magnificent falcon darted in and out around her master, her searing talons and sharp beak a reminder to the warg that her kind made more than a meal of them. Arod, Bulvard's elegant white stallion too took to crushing warg skulls under his heavy hooves with gusto, emitting frightened and excited neighs.

The Wargs fell in large numbers around them, the war party sustained injuries but none fell so far. Jael stood, nostrils flaring, over her mistress The Lady Gwyn as she lay still near slain warg, Bulvard looked at Gwyn with some concern, but his attention was soon diverted to the onrushing warg that enveloped the area around him.

The battle grew fierce, Calixto stood tall and proud, arrows flying from his bow faster than human eyes could percieve, he was aided by Harolas, an excellent archer in his own right. Elwyn used her long spear to good effect, skewering two to three warg at a time. The strange one Elanor, brandished stranger weapons and weaved her way through the warg.... she appeared to be moving toward Bulvard who was a tad busy to notice, but he would surely appreaciate the help.

The warriors would have to prevail over this first hurdle at any cost for many harsher ones awaited them.

[Arcanjo]

Calixto was shoting arrows with mortal precision, but the Wargs were much sronger than would meet the eyes. Their flesh was thick and hard, taking more than a single arrow to wound them.

Calixto quickly ran out of arrows, so he grabbed his sword, Amnetiz, and engaged in melee combat. Amnetiz was a marvelous sword, having been made in the days of old, before Calixto's father was alive. In battle, Amnetiz would glow green and cut deep into the Wargs flesh, proving itself to be much more effective than mere arrows. But it was still a difficult fight, and no Warg would fall with ease and much blood was spilled over the land.

The fight was not over when, suddenly, the Wargs turned back and escaped into the distance, leaving their dead companions behind. They were running towards Wylin, following a distant, but mighty, evil and terrifying howl. It was the leader of the pack that had summoned the Wargs. They were running towards Wylin!

Calixto ran towards Gwyn as she closed her eyes and fell to the ground.

*** Gwyn, wake up! ***

The wound on her arm was ulgy and would bleed constantly. The party would first have to take care of Gwyn if they later wanted to chase the Wargs towards Wylin.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor paused, her hand on the staff, not willing to use it so soon, but was saved having to choose by the cry. Looking up sharply, she elbowed the nearest warg in the teeth and saw a woman lying on the ground; Gwyn. Sighing, she concentrated her mindand forced the air backwards, making the wargs yelp and tumble. Along with the next layer of the archers arrows, this made up their minds to go insearch of easier pray and with a round of howls they were off.
The sorceress dismounted and ran towards the Gwyn, lying on the ground. Grabbing her wrist, she noted with suprise the long deep cut on the womans arm.
"Its Ok, shes alive." The man near her looked at her, smiling with relief. He extended a hand. "Calixto."
"Elanor Istavaira."
"Ah, a "spell weaver"? Useful." He smiled nervously at her, still worried about the woman on the ground.
The mercenary, Bulvard, who Elanor had noticed earlier came over and helped Calixto to lift Gwyn and lie her over Calixtos horse, but he avoided Elanors eyes. With a shrug, she took Gwyns horse, easily able to control two horses.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

"W-wargs..."
With a groan, Gwyn struggled to sit up. Then she remembered. With a snort of disgust Gwyn pulled her body up, regardless of her aching back and arm. The bleeding had stopped, and wordlessly Gwyn began to dress the wound. How could she have been so stupid to let the Warg injure her? Out of the corner of her eye, Gwyn surveyed her comrades. What they must think of her, now that she had proved useless.
Gwyn stood up, wobbling slightly, but she held herself up by Jael's reigns.
"I am ready to move on now." Gwyn told Bulvard, coolly taking control of her horse. "I am quite well." she added, lying through her teeth. She still had quite a lot to prove, after all, and she could not accomplish anything lying ill on the grass. Painfully she mounted Jael and gazed rather defiantly at her friends, grateful as she was for their concerns.

[Elenna]

Elwyn and Harolas stood a little apart from the group. He was tending to his bow, rubbing oil on it to keep it flexible. She was brushing Celebdae. Together, they talked of Mirkwood. Elwyn had not been back for much time, and was excited to hear news of her homeland. They talked and laughed for quite some time, until it was time for her sentry duty.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn felt slightly bored and rather lonely sitting by herself. Well, she was with Jael, but one cannot carry on an intelligent conversation with a horse. Gwyn spotted Bulvard sitting by the fire, sharpening his sword.

"Hello." she said, approaching him and sitting down on a log next to the warmth of the fire. When he did not answer, Gwyn began again.
"How did you come to work for Raffenshler?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor was waiting for Elwyn at the side of the camp, lounging in a tree and polishing her sais as she stared over the plain.
"Well just because it sounds good and its the traditonal to say so...Ive been expecting you!" Her ever sarcastic voice dropped and became slightly sinister, before she laughed and her hand came down to pull up the startled elf. Elwyn laughed as she was pulled up. "Do you always act like this my friend?" She asked jokily.
"Well, of course, why else do you think Im shunned by all, including my own kind?!" She dropped backwards meledramatically, catching herself with one hand on a branch. Her voice seemed to be kidding, but something deeper was in its undercurrent, suggesting it was not all quite a joke.
"Elanor, Im sure it-" She stopped in mid sentance staring over the plain at the dark shaped now moving there. Elanor sat up, looking in the same direction and without a word she flicked her fingers into a dome and a small illusion formed there. She stared into it for a moment before nodding as if satisfied. "Orcs." she whispered. "Lets tell the others." Silently they dropped out of the tree and made their way back to the campfire.

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel winced as the orc tightened the cords around her wrists, making them bite even deeper into her pale skin, but at least now her feet were freed and she was beginning to regain the feeling in her cramped legs. She wriggled her toes, only for the orc to stamp on them hard with his metal-shod boots before pulling her roughly to her feet. He drew his blck dagger and held it to her throat.
"Make a sound, or try to escape, and my blade will taste your blood." He whispered cruelly into her ear, his breath stinging her nose, but she knew there were too many orcs for her to escape alive and she bit her lip and began to stumble forward as best she could.

[Elenna]

Elwyn and Elanor crept forward through the trees, heading for the orcs. There had been no time to alert anyone else in the camp, so the sorceress and the warrior were on their own. Walking silently as only elves can, they appeared to sink into the trees they hid behind.
Suddenly, Elwyn imitated a birdsong to get Elanor's attention. When the other maiden was looking at her, Elwyn gestured over to another elf maiden being bound by the orcs. She had dark hair, and a quietly resigned expression on her face, but winced in pain as one of the orcs kicked her viciously. Elanor's eyes widened at such treatment, but Elwyn grinned fiercely. After looking at her, Elanor did too. She could tell what Elwyn had in mind...

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Are you nearly done?" Elwyns voice came with a whole load of irritation to Elanor.
"For an esteemed elf of Mirkwood, youre awfully whiny!" The witches voice came sharply back to Elwyn. "Im sorry. Its just feature changing spells were never my speciality, especially not on this scale! Are you done though?"
"Ooooh yeah." Elwyn glanced distastfully at her attire; Her hands were bound behind her, pulled tightly and cruelly, so the blood made the ropes slippy. Her clothes were ragged, and cuts covered her body. Soon an ugly orc appeared from behind the tree, a whip in its gnarled hands, and Elwyn caught her breath before Elanors voice came eerily from the creatures mouth.
"Dont look so worried! Whats wrong, is it the hair?" She mocked being worried, brushing back the scrubby mess on her scalp. "Now...is the rope a slipknot? I cant ahve you getting stuck! Right..youre actual clothes are hidden behind the tree? Good... and remember, if you touch the fake blood too much, it will start to wear off." She glanced down at herself. "Ooh, I hate feature changers. Hang on." She shook her head and made a sound as if trying to clear her throat.
"Right." She grabbed the rope behind Elwyn, who was now quite scared despite herself, gave it a tug and snarled in a deeper woice, laced with hate. "Lets go find some orc, my pretty young creature!"
With that, the unrecognizable duo set off towards the other group of orcs.

[Elenna]

Elwyn tried hard to look broken and defeated, trailing behind the evil looking orc that was Elanor.
"This prisoner better be worth the trouble of rescuing." she mumbled, a little annoyed that SHE had to be the prisoner.
"Shut up. We're coming up on their camp!" Together, the disguised maidens walked into the ragged camp, directly towards the orc tying up the maiden.
"Ah, well, so we've both been lucky tonight." Elanor's voice was hard and sharp and gruff. Elwyn blanched at hearing her friend sound so cruel.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The orcs glanced up at the pair as they entered the camp. There was no time for hesitation. Elanor wrenched Elwyn forward and sent her sprawling in the mud, falling ungracefully as she could not catch herself. Elanor winced as she felt her friends pain, before hastily turning it into a squint.
"Looks like we've both been lucky tonight!" She cried in her harsh voice amid the cruel laughter of the orc.
However one suspicious orc stepped forward, his notched blade drawn. "And who would you be?"
Elanor thought fast. Her plan had got her just about up to her, before it trailed vaguely away, ending with a rescue. "I?" She said stalling. "Why shoul you know who I am? Still, as I see you have not gone entirely soft," She added quickly at the looks she was getting, and motioning towards the unknown captive. "I shall tell you. I am Shruz the harsh. I heard of you and knew you were the only crew i was fit to join!"
At this the dimwitted orcs smirked happily and the bold one put down his blade.
"Rencher the Impaler. We can add your booty to ours!" They all laughed uproarously and witch tried not to show her disgust.
"Come! You have proved yourself worthy by bringing this filthy creature of light to us. Now let us feast!" He motioned one of the orcs towards the prostrate Elwyn on the floor and without thinking 'Shruz' stepped in the way. Inwardly she kicked herself as she saw the expressions on the orcs faces before once again using her incredibly organised planning...aka making it up on the spot.
"I took this creature. I dont mean to question your honor," The orcs laughed quietly at the irony of that. "But she is mine to deal with. In fact to show my fealty to you, I shall secure the two elevs myself." She grinned lopsidedly as she pulled her friend to her feet. "Nice and tight!"I shall join you when I have finished." She grabbed the other elf and swaggered into one the tents, pulling the elves behind her, one terrified of the creatures who had held her hostage for so long, one unsure of her...friend?

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Ain was concealed, nestled in the branches of a large oak tree, sitting perfectly still and silent as she had been doing for the past four hours. She had not moved an inch in all that time, and her stallion, who was tied up several hundred yards away, had not made any sounds or sudden movements either.
Her longbow was draw, her arrow was cocked, and yet, still she made no move. The orcs were laughing merrily as they brought more prisoners into the encampment. Not her business. Not her problem. Her gray eyes, as fierce as a falcon's and as cold as ice, locked in a perpetual glare, were fixated on the camp. She was here to study. Kill and study and learn more about the orcs and their physiology and their weaknesses. Weaknesses that she could exploit, if need be. The wind was still blowing her scent away from the orcs. She was safe, from them at least.
She drew back her bow and gently pulled back her muddy travel cloak to make her shot-if she ever decided to shoot-more precise. She treasured every arrow in her quiver, and wasting a shot on an orc would be a personal disgrace.
"One," she whispered to herself, so quietly that only she could hear, as she leveled her bow at a laughing orc who was had his back to her. "I say one arrow, right to that hollow of his neck, just above that mail-shirt, and he'll die right away. Never did get the chance to study these creatures enough," she mused, pulling back the string as tight as it would go. "What a fine opportunity."
She took little notice of the newest of the orcs leading the Elven prisoners into the tents. She didn't care about them. The jayfeather tail of her nocked arrow flitted lightly in the breeze.
In the midst of all their merrymaking, the orcs didn't hear the small twang! of an arrow leaving its string. They did notice, however, one of their kinsman fall dead where he stood, a mahogany arrow tipped with bluejay feathers protruding from the back of his throat. Uproar and confusion immediatly followed.
Ain chuckled. It feels so good to stretch, she thought as she nocked another arrow and struck silently again.

[ June 08, 2002: Message edited by: Aiwyn of the Eorlingas ]

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn rose from the fire and began to walk through the trees, considering her new comrades. Bluvard seemed mysterious, and Calixto wise. Elanor, Harolas, and Elwyn had all become friends. Gwyn sighed exasperatedly, thinking herself to be the only one in the company who was alone.

Her eye caught the faintest difference in the moonlight in the tree above her. Looking up, she saw a young woman in green tunic and leggings, holding a bow and aiming it expertly at the Orcs. Following the woman's gaze, Gwyn's eyes hardened. A young elf, dark-haired, was being held captive at the hands of the Orcs, along with her own comrade, Elwyn.

Silently Gwyn scaled the tree and alerted the woman to her presence. If this woman is aiming at Orcs, Gwyn thought, she must be helping my friend, and if she's helping my friend - Gwyn bit her lip - she was an ally.

[Nevtalathiel]

If Tumnaooriel had been the kind of person to swear, she would be swearing now as she was lead into a tent by an orc who had just appeared leading another elven captive. So far, she knew, she had been treated well by the foul creatures but now she was petrified, it was all she could do to stumble behind the other elf, and tripping over her own feet she noticed something which at first she did not dare to believe. A furtive galnce confirmed what she had seen, the elf's arms were tied in a slip-knot that could be undone easily at any time. Her eyes narrowed and she thought quickly, she had an ally, seemingly, and one who could swiftly and painlessly untie herself. But what then? Assuming they escaped from the camp unharmed, they would be miles from anywhere, alone and defenceless. And what if this elf refused to co-operate? Though trusting by nature, Tumnaooriel was also cautious and liked to consider the consequences of her actions before taking them. She bit her lip and exhaling calmly raised a bare foot, slicing it down through the air onto the orc's face even as he turned to her.

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Not many emotions could pierce through Ain's rock-like facial expressions. But surprise and shock always find ways through.
"Ah!" Ain cried softly as something tugged on her leggings, causing her to send her shot wild into a thicket in surprise. But it was only a woman, older than she was, that hoisted herself into the branch next to Ain.
"Peace. Be calm," she whispered as she noticed Ain's hand dart towards a dirk sheath on her belt. "I mean you no harm."
"Then what do you want?" Ain hissed. "I do not appreciate wasting arrows."
The woman didn’t seem taken aback. "Part of my company is being held captive inside that tent," the woman whispered, gesticulating towards the tent Ain had seen the orc lead the captives into only moments earlier. "I need to retrieve her so that my comrades and I can continue our quest."
"An orc took her in," Ain said. "I trust you saw that?"
"Yes."
"Who are you?"
"I am Gwyn, the Green Lady of Rohan."
At the mention of Rohan, Ain's heart felt heavy as her own experiences in Rohan with the Eorligas came back to haunt her. Her gray eyes trailed back up to look at the woman again, who was looking irritated, and staring back at her coldly as well.
“For Rohan. I am Ain,” she said. “You go get your comrade. I will provide you with a distraction.” Gwyn smiled slightly as she made to jump from the tree, but Ain caught her shoulder before she went.
“For Rohan,” she repeated sternly. Gwyn nodded, then slipped out of the tree again.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn was glad of Ain's assitance, but now she needed to help herself to rescue Elwyn, and the other Elf. Gwyn sighed, in spite of herself. Elves always needed rescuing.

Nonetheless, Gwyn crept quietly through the trees surrounding the Orcs' camp. She came across an arrow as she waited for Ain's 'diversion'. The arrow was well-made, and Gwyn felt a tinge of admiration for Ain.

Even though she was deep in the dark, on a rescue mission and without much hope of escaping without injury, Gwyn was glad to have another Rohirrim near, and decided to ask her to join their company. Silently Gwyn awaited Ain's diversion.

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Gwyn was in place, waiting for a diversion from Ain. Ain took a steadying breath, then nocked another arrow, this one tipped with eagle feathers-her favorite one. One that had a lot of memories flowing through its shaft. Her arrows were dwindling. These shots would count. So far, she had been hitting stragglers, loitering on the outskirts of camp, nobodies that nobody would miss. She needed somebody in the middle of the merrymaking.
Rencher the Impaler was laughing about the new spoils that had just been added by Shruz the Harsh when an arrow tipped with eagle feathers pierced his heart. He fell backwards, and expression of shock frozen on his face. Uproar followed.
Ain nodded at Gwyn through the branches, though she was not sure if Gwyn could see her or not. But Gwyn had already gotten the idea and slipped from sight, into the tent. Ain briefly hoped that the orc that had led the two prisoners inside would not kill her.
But she had her own problems now.
“Elves!” an orc snarled, examining Ain’s arrows. “Elves! Elves have come for our spoils.” Ain felt humored, and a little flattered. He had confused her arrow-which had been made simply to pass the time on a long caravan run, but that was another story-with the impeccable workmanship of the Elves. Or maybe he was just a fool. Well, it didn’t matter: Gwyn had her diversion.
“Find the Elf!” the orc ordered her comrades. “Find him and kill him!”
‘Him’? Ain felt insulted now. “I am WOUNDED, Sir. Thy comment is unforgivable: thee die next,” she muttered, stringing another arrow and letting it fly. The one who had unknowingly insulted her fell dead as the arrow pierced his throat. There was another cry of rage, cursing the Elves.
“And that is thy just rewards,” Ain muttered as the orcs stormed past the tree lines, looking for the ‘Elves’.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn slipped into the tent and drew a dagger from her boot. The unknown elf on the ground looked even more frightened - if that was possible - at the sight of the gleaming weapon. Gwyn smiled, trying to wordlessly assure her that she was a friend. Elwyn recognized her, however, and smiled back.

Quickly Gwyn set to work, cutting through the bonds that held the elf fast in one stroke. The elf cradled her arms, rubbing life back into her limbs.

"We must be quick, and silent, if we're going to get out of here." Gwyn ordered. Both elves nodded solemnly, and followed Gwyn out of the tent - the opposite way she had entered. Now Gwyn spoke again.

"Take her back to camp." she told Elwyn, pointing to the newfound elf, "I have a friend to aid." Elwyn nodded, and the elves were gone. Gwyn returned to Ain's tree. A nod assured from Gwyn assured her that the rescue had been performed successfully.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The elf thrashed out at elanors face and, unsure of this clumsy orc body, she ell backwards, narrowly missing striking her head.
Fuzzily she opened her eyes, trying to see Elwyn and got a major shock when she saw the arrow aimed from an elven bow at her throat from mere inches away.
"Hmmm, to shoot or not to shoot..." Elanor tried at a joke, hoping the grim elf would realise that she was not an orc. The bow came closer, now at point blanc range. Elanor almost yelped as the arrow nicked her neck and put her hands in the air. Focusing she willed herself to change, visualising her own human form. Back career move, the ef tightned the string as she saw the orcs form moving and let the arrow loose, narrowly missing the woman as she rolled to one side. She completed the change and stood up, looking widly around for Elwyn or that cursed other elf. She spun around the other way, as did the surprised bow wielding elf, as a pair of vicious looking orcs entered, blades drawn. The elf immediatley loosed of several arrows before eyeing Elanor. "I dont know what you are, orc or woman." She said carefully. "But if you have anything to do with those that have just got away, run now!"
Elanor nodded breathlessly and slid under the back of the tent into the chaotic camp, desperatley hoping she wouldnt be seen.
"Great. So this is what you get for being nice!Note to self; see any other cative elves, dont bother!" She muttered, stumbling away unnoticed hrough the camp...

[Elenna]

Gwyn led a very distraught Elwyn back to camp.
"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!! Elanor is back there, disguised as an orc. If either you or your crazy henchwoman killed her, you will have me to deal with!"
"Calm down, girl. I do not know what happened to Elanor, but yelling at me will only anger me, not help her."

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Ain tried to get a grip on the situation: Gwyn had rescued one captive and taken her away. Another had just slipped out and followed. But there were sounds of fighting coming from inside the tent. Who else was left?
"This should NOT be MY dilemma..." Ain complained to herself as she slipped from the tree and landed on the ground. The orcs had almost abandoned their camp, looking for the 'Elf'. The otrhers had gone in to check on the prisoners. Must be what that scuffle was about.
Ain grabbed her Quarterstaff, which was sharpened on both ends like a stake, and sauntered over to the tent under the cover of the shadows. She was about to open the flap when a flustered Elf carrying a bow burst out. Ain snuck a glance in the tent before it closed: there were several orcs lying dead with arrows protruding from their chests and throats.
"Is that all?" Ain asked irritably, not bothering to disguise her anger. "Or are there MORE captives around here that I know nothing of?"
The Elf shook her head. "None."
Ain shuffled her Quarterstaff up in her hand. "Elves are swift, aye? They rambled over yonder," she said, pointing in the direction where Gwyn and the others had gone. "If thee be with them, go hither. If not, go where thou please."
"Where are you going?"
"I must retrieve my steed. Then, I must retrieve my arrow. Run swiftly, for the Orcs seek an Elf." The Elf took off in the direction where Gwyn and the others had gone.
Ain trekked silently through the woods until she came upon a chocolate-colored stallion bound to a tree by his simple rope reins. She unbound him and pulled him after her, in the direction where Gwyn and the others had gone. Back to their camp.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor swore under her breath as another orc thundered past the scrub she was poorly hiding behind. She glanced towards the trees and realised they were nowhere near as close as she had thought and said yet another word anyone would be shocked to hear a young maiden say. Sighing irritably she morphed once again into the orc form, a form which now came with strange and rather unnerving ease. Stepping out she tried to create the aura of brutish confidence, swaggering about. She yelled something almost uncomprehensible about seeing them going to the forest and made har way as rapidly as she could to the trees. Then she froze with fear. The number of hoofbeats had increased in number and she looked about to see more riders...including elves! They were in to much of a rish for her to see their faces, but almost jumped with joy and called out to them, remembering too late that she was in orc guise. One male elf reared his horse to turn and saw her standing frozen.
"So, one even calls for its death! I hear you beast!" Elanors eyes were wide as she stumbled backwards in the strange body, falling over the scrub as the rider reared over her. She groaned quietly and tried to change herself back; her concentration couldnt be gathered again though.
The rider drew his sword...she couldnt actually tell whether he was male or female in her panic, and as she fell the figure spun crazily as he advanced.
"No, you dont understand, Im not- damn this orc growl!" She gabbled desperatly at the man as he approached. "Please, Im not an orc, I-I really...Please...just pretend to kill, then i can get back to my camp!" She leapt on the idea, but the rider seemed not as keen, as he kept advancing. Did he look familiar? He held his blade high above her, seeing only a cowardly orc.
"I will do more than pretend foul creature!" Elanor closed her eyes as she waited for the blade to plunge into her...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor flinched as she heard a scream near her, then realised with surprise that it wasnt hers. Slowly she opened her eyes to see her attacker plunging his longsword into an orc near her. Further away the elf who had nearly killed her was whirling a quarterstaff taking out the creatures left, right and centre. Quickly deciding that an orcish disguise was not all it was hooked up to be and definitly not a good career move in the whole life deal. Closing her eyes she focused on her human appearance and got the bizzare gt wrenching feeling she knew shed never get used to when she changed appearance. Come to think of it, there might not be another chance to change. Her heightened senses warned her of danger, and she rolled to the side of the tree, snapping her eyes open to see her attacker wrenching his sword from the tree in the position where she had been before. Her eyebrows shot up as she saw it was Bulvard- his eyebrows shot up as he realised she was definitly not an orc. Whirling around he caught an orc in the arm, which certainly took away his attention. She ducked as an arrow flew at her head, before its owner was dispatched with a scream by Ain. Elanor flashed a smile at her before grasping wildly at the straps that held her sais, cursing under her breath as she remembered shed left them with her robe and Elwyns weapons behind the tree along the road. Elwyn! She stared around realising with a wrench that she had no idea where her friend had gone. She had no weapons at all as far as Elanor knew. At least Elanor had the orc blade-admitedly not brilliant, but still sharp...ish...
Elwyn must be somewhere in the forest...Elanor had got her into this mess, and Elanor was sooo going to get her out of it. Diving out of the way of another arrow Elanor made her way into the forest to find her the elf...

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel had been led quickly back to a camp by the other elf. She was relieved to be able to sit in relative comfort by a fire and rub the cramp and stiffness from her tired limbs. She was content to wait for the rest of the party of elves to return from raiding the orc camp, and would have been happy to wait even if the group had taken years to return.
She looked around the small clearing, examining every detail to learn as much as she could about her rescuers. She had a wisdom and patience which is innate and cannot be learnt, an ability to see and listen, and not to speak, allowing her to learn about others without giving away details about herself. Some people mistook her silence and solitude as self-interest, but in fact, she cared greatly about those around her. Her awareness of her faults led her to conceal herself from all but those closest to her to prevent others being hurt or disappointed by her short-comings.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor dived into the ditch behind the tree where her and Elwyn had changed and tried to blend into the ground. Orcs thundered past, men and elves after them and vice versa. After being threatened by two people who she had thought should be on her side, and being kicked in the face by the elf she was trying to rescue, she was only sure of one thing; there were way too many weapons flying around. She touched the side of her mouth and felt the blood trickling from it. Angrily she spat out trying to ignore the bitter taste.
Irritably she shifted as she felt something nobbly under her and checking there was no one near, she got up and felt around the ground underneath her. To her delight she found the sais under her robe. Slipping the robe on and sliding the sais into their straps she stealthily started running to the camp.

She reached the camp trying not to breathe to heavily and froze as she saw someone at the camp fire. They had a blanket around them so she could not see what manner of person it was. Sliding just one of her sais of its straps she crept up and dived on the creature, the main blade at its throat.
"Ahhhh! Get of me you filthy orc!" The creature gave a very un-orcish yell and kicked Elanor in the face with one long leg. Elanor, taken of guard, stumbled backwards, trying not to fall. Looking up she saw an elvish woman standing above her with a surprised look on her face.
"Youre...youre really not an orc are you?" She said warily. Elanor gave her a withering look which the elf returned with tired venom. Inside the human flinched; elvish eyes always seemed to carry about them such ancient wisdom, something which when you know you wont live even a tenth of ther lifespan, no human can ever easily match. The elf offered her hand to Elanor to pull her up. Elanor, not really a particularly trusting person ignored it, wiping her mouth where the blood was once again running. She was surprised to see the elf still hadnt withdrawn her hand, so Elanor took it and was pulled up.
"You know, that kick is becoming far to familiar!" She said reproachfully. At this the elf looked surprised. "You know the orc you kicked? Well Im not your usual human." As the other drew her sword Elanor sighed. "No! No! I mean, I can do magic! Anyway, I still dont know youre name."
"Tumnaooriel." Tumnaooriel then turned again and sat at the fire, icy silence enveloping her. Elanor opened her mouth to say more, before shrugging and sitting beside her. She understood others silence. Anyway there was no point- Elanor had reached the conclusion that elves had no apparent sense of humour.

[ June 15, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]
really sorry nev, i didint mean anything by that really!

[ June 16, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Upon arriving at the camp, Gwyn had discovered missing not only Elwyn, but Elanor and Bulvard as well. Sighing, Gwyn set out to find them, and help them. But she couldn't help thinking that her friends were doing quite alright on their own.

A little while later, Gwyn had battled her way through thorn, tree, and bush, and now spotted Bulvard and Elanor. Covered in bruises dealt out by tree branches and scratches from thorns, Gwyn approached them.

"How did you get here? What is going on?" Gwyn hastily glanced around for orcs.

[Elenna]

Elwyn sat by the fire, waiting and watching, praying to all of the Valar that her friend Elanor would return.

"Please, Elbereth. She was so brave. She doesn't deserve to die as an orc."

Late into the night the elf-maid waited, staring at the sky, the firelight shining on her red-gold hair.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Awww waiting up for me? Sweet of you Elwyn really."
Elwyn spun around at the familiar sarcasm of Elanors voice. "Elanor!" Running forward she made to hug the human but stopped; it was something about look on the humans face...
"Hey even better! I wasnt greeted by a kick in the mouth this time either."
A sigh came from the darkness beside her as Tumnaooriel came out of the wood. "You really arent going to let that drop are you?"
"Hey I dunno, how long can you wait?" Elanor surveyed the people around the fire; she couldnt see a single human. Now why is it that once again Im feeling left out.... She thought to herself sardonically. She looked at the two elves greeting each other in elvish fashion, speaking quickly. Elanor was practically fluent in several typed of elvish, but it was not her language. The camp was surrounded by trees, and within a few steps Elanor could reach up and pull herself into it, out of sight of the elves around the fire.
yup, really not fitting in here either
But where do you think you will be able to fit in? You never get to close to people. A nagging voice replied.
Elanor sighed as she pulled out a small crystal from her pocket and started fiddling with it. "I have no people to fit in with." She said quietly, answering her own thoughts aloud.

[Elenna]

"Sure you do, Elanor! You have me, and the rest of the Guards!"

"Well, my race rejected me."

"Ah, well, that was foolish of them, wasn't it? But make the best of your current situation - damsels in distress to rescue, and a warm fire at night. What more could you want?"

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood tall amidst the fallen bodies of Orc and warg, covered in their foul
blood. His ancient long sword gleamed in the pale light. His eyes wore a glazed look.
He was in a trance. His body motored on by reflexes and instinct.

He was in a fugue state. His mind filled with images of a calmer, pleasant time.
Music and laughter and voices of loved ones echoed in his mind's ear as his body
moved ahead cutting down the foul evil beasts that surrounded him.

He was not aware of anything or anyone else, he moved on like a machine. Aronja,
his falcon, flashed in and out around him, she seemed to lead her master on. An
invisible umbilicus of thought linked the bird to the warrior and wherever the falcon
darted, her master followed sword in hand, slashing and rending a path through
the decadence until all of them were decimated.

Suddenly and arrow pierced into the falcon's side and the bird fell to the ground with a
squawk. The aftershock rippled through the mental connection and hit Bulvard like a
cascading tidal wave, causing his body to be thrown across like a rag doll. Hitting
the ground hard, the warrior lay motionless near the carcasses of the foul ones. His
horse, Arod, had long been missing and the elegant falcon, Aronja lay on the far
side, blood trickling out of her breast.

A shadowy figure with a longbow in hand, the unseen assailant, slowly crept out of
the darkness and moved towards the fallen warrior.

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

"Not this day!" Ain's voice pierced the air, frenzy causing her to hit a high note. She had been lost for a moment in the fray and had had been kneeling in the brush, nursing a shallow but painful cut to her shoulder that wouldn't require any special healing she couldn't provide herself. But now, the fight was finished, thanks to Bulvard and his unstoppable power. She had been watching, astounded, as he ripped through the orcs like a machine, his falcon guiding him. But when the arrow had hit the falcon, it had affected him as well. The unknown assailent slipped quietly out of the darkness and crept towards him as he lay motionless.
"Not this day shall one so brave fall without a chance to defend himself," Ain gritted her teeth, pulling herself away from the foliage and brushing burrs off her clothing. The archer paid her no heed other than to reach towards his/her quiver. In an instant, Ain's own longbow was out, threaded with a birch arrow.
"Get thee gone!" she yelped. "Thou shalt not slay a man who is helpless, not while I can see such an act. Get thee gone, and come again when he is awake!" She drew back the arrow more.
CRASH! CRASH! Someone was running through the bushes at an impressive speed. Ain's heart leapt into her throat as she swiveled around and Gwyn leaped over a dead log into the clearing filled with orc carcasses. The unknown archer saw his chance and vanished again into the night.
Gwyn mouth opened to make a sound as she beheld the clearing: all the orcs slain, Bulvard lying unconcious, splattered with their gore, and Ain, lowering her bow, clean save a cut on her shoulder. But in a moment, she could speak again: "We must get him back to camp."
Ain nodded, but the women were immediatly faced with a dilemma: Bulvard was several heads, not to mention pounds, above them. In the end, Gwyn grabbed his wrists and Ain seized his ankles and they managed to carry him back to camp, and his falcon too, who rested on her master's chest.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Well, my race rejected me."
"Ah, well, that was foolish of them, wasn't it? But make the best of your current situation - damsels in distress to rescue, and a warm fire at night. What more could you want?"
Elanor looked away from the kind elf. Easy for you to say...always having a people to grow up with...not just in between Mentally the human smacked herself- she was so selfish. She should go down and...socialise or something. She sighed and looked sideways at the grinning elf beside her, one eyebrow raised. Elwyn then raised one eyebrow so trying to keep a straight face Elanor raised the other.
However eyebrow fest was soon interupted as Gwyn and the elf Elanor was yet(and dubious) to meet, the one from the camp. "My friends is there a healer here?" They lay the figure they were carrying on the floor, and Elanor saw it was the magnificent Bulvard..with a truly magnificent gash across her chest. Without a seconds thought Elwyn had dropped to the ground and Elanor followed, dipping her hands in her pockets to try to find her equipment...

[Elenna]

Elwyn moved forward, along with Elanor.

"You heal?" the woman asked her.

"Yes. Most travelling elves do." Elwyn reached her hand out, stroking Bulvard's forehead. Later, he wouldn't remember what had happened except for a bright light and a red haired elf maiden.

"Come back, Bulvard. Come back to us." she whispered, and he felt light flowing through his veins. He saw his hawk flying up ahead and his heart was glad.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stirred and looked around dazedly. As his blurred vision grew focused, he peered at the ones that tended him. They were a beautiful sight indeed. The elf
healers gently raised him upright and offered him a drink. The elvish drink quickly
freshened the warrior and he found his strength returning.

He vaguely remembered what had transpired and was surprised to know the fate of Aronja. The other's had given up the bird for dead but Bulvard shared a life bond with the creature and as his strength and vigour returned the falcon stirred and roused as well. Bulvard groggily tended to it's wounds. The tip of the arrow was defintely elven. What elf would dare to attack this alliance?

The warrior spent the rest of the day recuperating along with the ones that had
healed him and rescued him as well. Bulvard grimly expressed his gratitude to Ain and Gwyn, and they acknowledged that he would do the same for them. To Elanor and Elwyn, he pledged aid in every way possible.

The imminent danger was now passed, but a few of their party was still at large.
Most noteworthy being the leader of this expidition, Calixto.

Where were they?

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor watched the huge warrior come around, and looked with interest over his shoulder at the arrow he was inspecting.
"Elven?!" She was surprised but it couldnt be denied; the craftsmanship on the arrow was definitly elven. "But why..." The human trailed off unertainly. Tumnaooriel gestured for them to listen. They heard a sound which Tumna was probabaly all too familiar with; orcs.
Even worse there was still no sign of some of them group. How could they fight as a team against the orcs of this number when they didnt even have a proper leader?

[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Sighing, Ain looked towards the sound of the oncoming creatures. Only one thought crossed her mind: 'Not again...'
She looked at the warriors around her: they were tired and wounded. She herself was not feeling up to fighting either; her arrows were depleted and her shoulder ached, and her hands were too cramped to hold her Quarterstaff, much less fight. She ran her hands over the back of her stallion who stood near her.
"I know not where your leader is," she said, still not considering herself part of the group, "but we would be wise to find him-find him swiftly."
A few of the females began to draw their weapons, but Ain shot them an icy, withering glare.
"Do not be fools! Thee would not strike fear into the heart of a hobbit-brat, armed mearly with a stick now, much less a second assault of orcs."
"But our honor-" one Elf began, but honorwas a tabooed word to Ain.
"To the fire with it!" she barked. "Fine! Stay and fight another battle of impossible odds." She glanced at Bulvard, who still seemed weak, before looking back at the women. "I know not how thee could hope to win now. And thy rouge assassin still lurks in the shadows, out there, somewhere."
The orcs were getting closer. Time was running out. Ain mounted Staa and grabbed his simple rope reins as the proud stallion tossed his mahogany head.
"I am fleeing now," she said. "If there is a sensible one among thee, I bid thou to ride with me, and bring me to thy leader, wherever he may be." She motioned to the space behind her, where there was room for one more person to fit. "Thou would much rather acheive honor at the completion of thy quest, aye? Not die at the hands of orcs for refusing to flee, for fleeing would be 'dishonorable'. Preserve thy life; there will be plenty of chance still for thee to lose it in a more fitting fasion." She dropped her cold voice for a moment to further the rationality of her words.
It worked. The Elves put away their weapons, the rationality finally becoming apparent to them, and those with horses mounted them swiftly. Those without them shared with another, and quickly, they fled from the second assault, barely escaping, but escaping none the less.
"Where is your leader?" Ain called to Gwyn.
"I know not," Gwyn called back
And so, the party set off on a new sub-quest: the hunt for Calixto.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Hey come on!" Elanor whirled around andtried to stop the elves and humans who were running. She checked herself; since when had she been a big one for battles? But this was something else- they couldnt just run.
As she stood in turmoil, the first lot oof orcs burst through the trees. Without thinking, Elanor raised her staff and yelled the first spell that came into her head. Mist appeared around them, confusing them. Elanor offered a silent thanks to fortune, before deciding living held good prospects for her future. She leapt on her horse and cantered after the others...

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn hated this hasty and cowardly retreat, but she knew that they must stay alive if they were to fulfil their purpose; to find the Crimson Sword. As soon as Ainwyn had proposed flight, Gwyn knew they would not get on well. Gwyn turned to the rest of her band.

"When was the last time we saw our leader, the brave and honourable Calixto?"

At the words 'brave and honourable' Gwyn could see Aiwyn roll her eyes. She ignored her, and waited for answers.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc - I was hoping that the orcs, well and truly beaten, would give us some respite and we could regather and proceed forward on our quest. We have completed level one and that we'd move on to level two. But since.... sigh!


Bulvard, now recuperated and refreshed leapt to his feet, he had never in his life fled from a battle... but this time they were largely outnumbered... a minor detail.
His link with the falcon had been disrupted for the time being and it was up to the weary warrior to take the fight to the onrushing orcs.

But most of the elves appeared to heed the cowardly advice and prepared to flee.
It was a frustrating situation for any warrior, to see his comrades give in to fear and run. He looked around, the lady Gwen stood by him, unsure of their next move.
Elanor and Elwyn too had their weapons drawn. Harolas leapt out from among the trees, bow and arrow at the ready.

The bold warriors followed Bulvard as he madly tore into the horde of orcs that made their way toards them. Ain and her followers hurriedly rode off the other way shaking their heads, not looking back in fear.

As the orcs neared, Bulvard lashed out with his ancient long sword.... but he felt no flesh and bone strike his blade, just thin air. The others, who had stayed on to fight, too were bewildered by this as the first wave of orcs began to fade away...

"An illusion...," cried Elwyn, " We are being subjected to evil magicks... beware!"

Bulvard grimaced, " Witches and their magicks...."

Gwen looked relieved and sat down, exhausted. The others stood, ever sharp and

ready for the next attack could well be real in nature.

"What do we do now?" asked Harolas, looking around at Bulvard and Gwen.

"We must find Calixto." said Elanor and Elwyn agreed.

"But where and how?" asked Harolas, "And what of Ain and the others?"

"Let them find their way back," said Gwen in a low voice, " We must move on to a

secure place and take rest and refreshment. When we do find our leader, we will

need all our strength for the long journey ahead."

Bulvard looked at her and nodded in agreement. The small group gathered their belongings and horses and moved on, to find a secure haven for the darking night.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Witches and their magicks...."
Elanor flinched at the comment. The depth and almost hate Bulvard had said it with explained the way he seemed to e avoiding her. Still, an illusion was surely easier to counter than a full scale enemy.
"Theyre not there." She stated matter of factly. The others truned to her surprised.
"Erm..Elanor, they do appear to be here in force-" Elwyn started quietly but Elanor shook her head.
"One sorceress. Lots of us. Just imagine theyre not there and itll do wonders. Really." She surveyed the "orcs". "See- I mean i certainly cant see any orcs."
Elwyn shrugged as if to say 'whatever works'. "Yeah, um, me too. I see no one."
Already the orcs were slowing and a few noticably vanished. The others started to join in slowly and the witch smiled.
"Yeah, nothing there..."
"Orcs? What orcs.."
The enemy were almost gone, leaving a few surprised orcs. They started to retreat, cowardly now there was less thna a quarter of the number theyd thought. As they disappeared into the trees as fast as they could Elanor smiled at the others, relieved.
Bulvard she noticed, had not joined in, but was staring at her with a strange expression on his face...

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas gave chase to the remaining orcs that fled. He felled a few more with well aimed arrows. Then he returned to where everyone else was. Everyone except their leader, Calixto. Where could he be? Had he fallen?

Harolas looked at Elwyn and smiled but she looked very tired and anxious. Bulvard was his usual sullen self and Elanor looked at the warrior with sad eyes. But Gwyn was in good spirits, this was a long awaited rest and she deserved it. Harolas offered to apply healing powders on her wounds and she happily complied.

The other elves proceeded to cook a meal for them and everone settled down for a good nourishing dinner. It was decided that they would begin a search for their leader Calixto at first light.

[Cimmerian]

Calixto's dissapearance bothered Bulvard. He was the one who lnew the surest way to the hiding place of the Sword and now without him they would have a much harder task in finding the way themselves. But first they had to look for him.

The pale morning light fel nto their paltry shelter and everyone was ready to move onward. The party mounted their steeds which had returned to them after hiding during all the fighting. Bulvard sat on Arod with Aronja upon his shoulder. The bird would do well in scouting for them, but his mind link with her was yet to be restored.

Bulvard rode out into the clearing, the others, Gywn, Elanor, Elwyn and Harolas accepting him as a de-facto leader followed him. The path lad strewn with bodies of orc and warg and their rotting stench.

"Our first task is to look for Calixto. Let us retrace our steps and return the way we came." said Bulvard.

"I think so as well," agreed Gwyn.

"But we also need to find Tumnaooriel, she is missing too." cried Elanor.

And Bulvard looked at her quizically, apparently he had not yet met this person.

"And Ain is gone too," said Harolas. At this Gwyn snorted rudely. Elwyn smiled quietly.

The rode ahead in single file.

[Cimmerian]

Darkness had fallen now and the party decided to set up camp and rest. After a frugal meal, everyone settled in for the night. But Bulvard couldn't sleep, his dreams troubled him and he decided to sit under the open sky at the foot of a large tree quite some distance from the camp.

There he found his mind drifting towards fond memories of his wife and daughter at a much pleasant time... and his heart reminded him of a song he had heard a travelling elven minstrel sing and a tear trickled down his weather beaten face. He sang in a low voice...

Wrapped in a faded dream tucked away safe in my mind
A little goodbye maybe or just a passing smile

The birds fly away to the southern sky searching a home
A scatter of dry flowers or a little girl left all alone

Can somebody hear me I'm screaming from so far away
Morning who will calm you now, the evening is eclipsed again

The ache is long gone but the never keeps staring along
The waters in the seas are high and all the sand castles have drowned

Well does life get any better More yesterday than today
How I thought the sun would shine tomorrow
But it rained . . .

Unknown to him another troubled soul had been near and had been hearing his sorrowful tale in song. Tumnaooriel watched the forlorn broken man from her hiding place and tears rolled down her large, sad eyes.

[pippin_took0]

Tumnaooriel felt herself strangely drawn to the stern yet melancholy man who sat with his back to a tree.
She had been woken from her light sleep by his song which had haunted her dreams and she knew that she must see the face of the person whose song was so beautiful and so sad. Following the melody as if drawn by an invisible thread, she stumbled through the trees, leaving Ain asleep among the fallen leaves.
The silver moonlight fell on and through the bare branches of the trees and the sitting figure was dappled; speckled and splashed with silver. Apart from the movement of his lips, he sat still as a statue, the tear on his cheek glistening like a pearl. His appearance was so enchanting Tumnaooriel could not help but stop to listen, entranced. The song he sang was so mournful that her heart was moved and her deep sad eyes soon spilled salt water down her own cheeks. In the gloom her pale skin almost glowed, and her dark eyes were like the sky; immense and black, reflecting the myriad stars.
The song came to an end and the singer looked down twisting a plain golden ring between his fingers, the tears now flowing freely down his face. Seeing such pain on such a strong face, Tumnaooriel could not help but wish to comfort the man somehow and started forward from her place. His eyes attracted by the movement, the man's head turned towards her and he instantly started up, aghast, his eyes wide with disbelief, a sweat breaking on his brow.

[ July 07, 2002: Message edited by: pippin_took0 ]

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard leapt to his feet and drew his sword, it was almost dawn and the sun was yet to rise. He prepared to strike this shadowy form as it moved toward him but then it cried out in a low voice, "Please, I am no orc."

"Who are you?" asked the tall warrior, glaring down at the hooded and cloaked figure.

"I am Tumnaooriel!" repiled the terrified creature and removed her hood. In the pale light her silken hair fell in clusters around her neck and shoulders and Bulvard gasped. His blood froze and he stood stunned and silent as if he had seen a ghost.

He opened his mouth tp speak, but could only utter a hoarse whisper, " Fiona...!"

He staggered backward and fell onto the tree, his sword fell to the ground with a clang...." I must be dreaming," He uttered, " What sorcery is this..."

Tumnaooriel watched the man recoil and flail his arms around as if stung by poison, she looked at him in horror and cried out for help.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn awoke suddenly out of a most disturbing dream... to find that the dream was little worse than the awakening. Bulvard lay on the ground, alive, but seeming to be in severe shock. The elven maid who was rescued from the Orcs was shaken, but unhurt.

"What is the cause of all this?" Gwyn asked, leaning over the white-haired man, wondering what could have had such an effect over him.

OOC: Gwyn to the rescue! Cim, "Fiona"??

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor, who had been leaning against a tree near Elwyn, sat up with a start as she heard the cry. She grabbed her cloak blurrily and picked up her diving crystal from where it had been strung on a low branch near her head. Strange, she didnt remember putting it there...
And the dream she had had.
The shild laughed, her golden hair flying out behind her as she swung on the swing. The man behind pushed her, laugh lines creasing his strong face. He pushed her even harder this time before running a few metres in front of the swing. With a whoop the girl jumped of the swing into his arms. As he caught her he swung her around and they laughed. As he let her go a woman came smiling out of the shadow and the sunlight dappled her long silky blonde hair. The tall man turned when he heard her and smiled. They kissed and he buried his face in her wonderful hair.
"I love you my darling."
"And I will always love you Fiona..."
Elanors brow creased as she once again looked at the divining crystal. It had reddish mist swirling inside it, the sign of pain. What was painful about the scene she had just viewed?

Great, now youre really losing it Elanor. Get a grip! she shook her head and ran quickly to the source of the sound...

[Elenna]

Elwyn was there to catch Bulvard as he fell.

"Oof!" she groaned as she lowered him to the ground. "You're heavy!"

"Fiona!" he moaned. It seemed as though he was having a nightmare, but his eyes were open.

"ANd I thought that this guard duty thing was going to be boring!" Elwyn complained as she went to fetch some water for the big warrior.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas woke up with a start, the others were moving around a few yards away from the camp, someone looked injured as the others tended to him. He jumped down from the tree where he was perched napping.
Moving closer Harolas was surprised to see that Bulvard was out cold. He wonder whst could have knocked out such a large man, or was it that his birdwas killed again, he mused and smiled. gwyn glared at him and he quickly turned and cried aloud, " Who has dared to strike down the most brave of us?"
"Be quiet, you fool," said Elwyn, "He is not wounded, at least not physically."
"Witchcraft." said harolas and glaned at Elanor who seemed to be in a trance.
"Where is Calixto when you need him? " thought the elf from mirkwood and walked back to his tree.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

"Friends!" Gwyn began, turning to face the rest of the warriors, "Calixto is lost, dead, or deserted. Bulvard is not concious, and were he to regain conciousness I doubt his ability to lead us, to help fulfil the quest. Therefore I must take command." She turned to Harolas and Elwyn. "Please help carry Bulvard to my horse - he will travel thus for now. We must move on. This place may not be safe." Gwyn rose to her full height, and her green eyes flashed as she surveyed her comrades. "Do any oppose me?"

OOC: I have taken command. All opposed? All in favour? smilies/smile.gif

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel had been shocked by Bulvard's reaction to her, and had watched the rest of the proceedings in silence, unable to speak. What had she done? Guilt and confusion mixed in her head. She had not meant to scare the poor man, and she had never expected such an acute reaction from him. She was glad to see from the reactions of the others that Bulvard would be ok, but she felt she owed him something. The rest of the company were quickly making ready to depart and there seemed little she could do, until she remembered Bulvard's horse. She found it in the clearing where the others had been camping and lead it back with her. Bulvard was still not awake, and Tumnaooriel mounted his horse, she was not an accomplished rider, but the beast was perfectly obedient, and almost seemed to know her.

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

[Cimmerian]

Ooc - Aman - that was beautiful. Just like I would envision.

Bulvard’s immense bulk was a little difficult for Harolas and Elwyn to heft, even more so at the dead state he was in, but they managed to place him on Gwyn’s horse. Suddenly he awoke in a delirious fit, “ No, Fiona!.... Don’t….uhhh,” and he faded again.. Tumnaooriel looked around as if in deep guilt but no one else though such.
They thought he was having an aftereffect of his previous accident.

But deep in his mind, the large, white haired warrior was going through a personal hell as he dreamed…..of a time, ten long years ago……
…dark black shapes moved in all around them…. The tall warrior fought valiantly, his sword weaved like lighting through the mass of foul goblins that ravaged the land around him…. suddenly a mighty blow felled him to the ground….. something heavy pinned him down and then grabbed his hair and yanked his head up…so that he could witness the ghastly scene… that which now haunted him every passing moment….. his eyes widened in fear and horror at what unfolded before him….
His beloved wife…. ravaged by the foul creatures….. died in front of him… as he lay helpless….. his child….. blood from his wounds streamed into his eyes…. His little daughter lay in a pool of red…... he screamed….. a sharp blow caught the side of his bleeding head……. darkness engulfed him…. for how long…… the images haunted his mind…… his wife… and little child…..lay broken and lifeless….. the sun had set in his life……….he found himself running….. running as fast as he could…… as the darkness surrounded him…… he ran faster and faster but the black night still gained on him…... ….could he justify the cause for that his beloved ones had to give up their lives….. it had been so long a time, but still he missed them every day and night….
…how he thought the sun would shine tomorrow………….but it rained.

Elenor convulsed in her trance as the images hit her mind furiously.

Ooc – Allright, Bulvard will be in this state for a while so I trust all of you to protect him, he would do the same for you. Go Gwyn!

[Amanaduial the archer]

The crystal hung suspended from a branch as Elanor watched the scenes inside it. The others saw the witch as if she was in a trance and Harolas seemed to suspect she had caused Bulvards distress but instead she was beraing witness to it.

"Bulvard!"
"Fiona...I am coming..."
"Bulvard!....they are....no...NO...NO!"
"Fiona!"
He fought but could not see her. One foul goblin hit him from behind with the hilt of its sword onthe back of his head and he fell heavily to his knees in the dirt, his hands bound.
She fought against them and he was forced to watch. She screamed and the tears fell down her face but it was futile. At the end her limp form was thrown to the ground trembling. She reached one hand out towards Bulvard, her eyes pleading for him to take it. He strained against the ropes on his hands until they were slick with blood but he couldnt reach her. She opened her mouth, the lip split and blood streaming out to speak but its hard to speak without a tongue.
The goblins were now long gone now but their destruction was left. Bulvard sat on the swing holding the dead bodies of his family in his arms as he swung gently his eyes closed.
"No!" Elanor screamed and with an effort she ripped her eyes away from the crystal. The others looked at her as she sat gasping on the ground, her head in her hands. She had felt everything;
Bulvards despair...
The childs fear...
Fionas humiliation...
"Elanor?" A voice cut through the horrible scene. Slowly she raised her head and saw standing in front of her...
"Fiona?" she shook her head and the world returned. Tumnooriel was standing in front of her, not Fiona, but still Bulvard lay.
Taking a deep breath she lifted the now clear crystal in her shaking hand and walked over to the prostrate warrior. His eyes opened and the mist slowly cleared as the memory ended leaving pain. He tried to wipe away the tears and return to his usual remote hard self and open his mouth to speak but the witch stayed his hand and put a finger to his lips.
"Shhhh..." a tear rolled down her face onto his. Bulvard looked at her questioningly, his pained face puzzled. "I felt it, brave one. I felt her."
"My Fiona..."
"Yes. Shhhh...Sleep, she is at peace..." Bulvards eyes closed and Elanor kissed her palm and motioned it over his face to ward away dreams. She straightened, and saw Tumnaooriel looking shocked. She smiled at her and tried to avoid the visions of such a similar face racked with pain. She opened her mouth to speak before closing her eyes and fainting...

[Elenna]

Elwyn and Harolas stood guard over the inert body of Bulvard. Every few minutes he awoke and thrashed around. Elwyn ran a cool palm over his cheek, feeling a great sadness at what had become of the brave man. At her touch, he quieted, and seemed to sleep. Elwyn glanced up at Harolas wearily, and he gave her an encouraging smile.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas looked at Elwyn, she was so strong so sure of herself. He thought that an elf should take charge of his trip because they were wiser and stronger than the men.
Besides Calixto was an elf and should be succeeded by an elf. But he feared to tell Elwyn because she was so ready to serve than take charge. And the grim Gwyn also frightened the elf of Mirkwood as much as Bulvard did.
But he was most suspicious of Elanor the witch, she was so cold and mysterious. Harolas was surethat she had put some evil spells on Bulvard hich was allright by him as long as she didn’t do anything to him or any other elf. He sat and sharpened the flint heads on his arrows.

[Manelwen]

She darted out of the bush, her horse let out a loud snort as she came towards the group, they all turned to look at her. "Brother!" Called the warrior woman as she let the Pendulum swing at her side, "I heard warg on my way to the city." She said gruffly.

The group stared at her as she came beside the man, he was slumped in his horse and looked pale and sickly. "What did you do to him?" She snarled, turning on the group, raising the dagger that she held in her other hand.

"Sister." Bulvard muttered, "They are here to help me."

"Yes, and it certainly looks like they are doing a good job." her lip curled as she casted a disgusted look at the group of elves.

[Cimmerian]

"Sister???" mumbled Bulvard. He hadn't seen her for years... "Culloth..." he cried, and looked up dazedly, "Is that really you or am I hallucinating again..."

"It's me brother, I have been searching for you for ages..." said the fiery haired woman, her stern look softened as he tried to get get, but she stopped him. "I cannot bear to see you suffering like this, what happened?"

Bulvard weakly pointed at someone but he fainted soon after. Culloth looked around, among the elves were two women like her.

"Tell me what this is all about?' she demanded of them.

"We are on a quest for the Crimson sword?" said Gwyn, "In the absence of our leader Calixto and Bulvard's present state, I have assumed leadership of this party."

Ooc - Aosama, you can introduce Gwyn better and tell of what your plan is.

"This here is Tumnaooriel," she said gesturing at the hooded woman. "Remove your hood, Tumnaooriel."

As Tumnaooriel removed her hood revealling her tear stained face and dirtied golden hair, Culloth gasped, "Fiona?" she stammerd and her horse reared up as she fell back.

"There we go again," cried Gwyn, "Who is this Fiona?"

"Don't you percieve this yet," said Elanor in a chanting monotone, "Fiona is Bulvard's dear departed wife."

Everyone apart from Culloth gasped at this.

"And Tumnaooriel resembles the woman as if she were her identical twin." continued Elanor, "I know of this for I have seen the visions that are plaguing Bulvard's mind."

"Who are you, woman?" cried Culloth. "Are you responsible for my brother's ill health?
Speak!"

Ooc - Manelwen, as Bul's sister you should know of his unstable mind, but the shock of seeing Tumnaooriel would bring back painful memories for Culloth too. COr..excellent drama.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

"Stop!" Gwyn cried aloud at the haughty woman, "You are my comrade Bulvard's sister, but I am the Lady of Rohan, and I will not allow you to mistreat our Elven friends, nor blame them for what they have not done. Tumnaooriel merely sat with Bulvard in the night, and in the darkness he mistook her for his beloved. This put him into the shock of grief - any more than this I cannot know, unless someone would care to tell me."

[Manelwen]

"I will take him from here, he does not need this! He is already hurting, can't you all see this? And everytime that he will look into your face, Lady of Rohan, he will see only his dead wife and all the things that he has been stripped of!" She snarled angrily, cradling her unconscious brother in her arms.

"I do not think that is wize, for the sword is still out there, and we need to get it back!" The maiden called Gwyn snapped angrily.

Looking down at her brother, Culloth frowned, "Fine. I will come also but as soon as you find this sword, I am taking him with me."

Gwyn exchanged looks with the other members of the group that stood silently, she then nodded as if a general consensus had been passed wordlessly between them all. "Fine."

"Fiona..." Bulvard groaned, reaching out for the ghost of his wife. Culloth took the hand and gently cradled it in her own. "Hush, brother. Do not worry...I have got you." She said quietly, a vulnerable moment passed between the warrior brother and sister.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn regretted needing to be so harsh. She respected and admired Bulvard, but he himself had known that the search for the Crimson Sword should take first priority, despite one's personal misgivings. Her gaze was softer when she returned to Culloth.

"I commit your brother's care to you," she said. "That is as it should be; you know him far better than any of us could ever claim to. I regret Bulvard's illness as well." Gwyn returned to her full height. "We will rest now, and come morning we will continue the Search."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor sat up fuzzily, hearing a commotion. She saw a new woman had entered the camp and was shouting at anyone within earshot. The fiery woman was standing over Bulvard and suddenly drew out a dagger from her belt. Before her ears adjusted to the actual words she was shouting the dazed witch caught a flash of her thoughts.
...who did this? Why?...Bulvard...my brother...
Brother? Elanor was surprised but there were similarities; the hard face with lines of pain running over it, the jumble of thoughts. A milisecond afterwards the shouting hit her ears making her wince.
"...remove your hood Tumnaooriel.
Oh no, not a good idea... As Elanor had thought the womans reaction was instantanious; out came the dagger again.
"Fiona?"
"Here we go again; who is this Fiona?"
"Don't you percieve this yet," Elanor spoke aloud "Fiona is Bulvard's dear departed wife. Tumnaooriel resembles the woman as if she were her identical twin." continued Elanor, "I know of this for I have seen the visions that are plaguing Bulvard's mind." She almost immediatley wished she hadnt spoken as the Culloth rounded on her.
"Who are you, woman?" cried Culloth. "Are you responsible for my brother's ill health?"
Gwyn intervened although the clashing of the Lady Of Rohan and Culloths temper was quickly turning Elanors diving crystal a dangerous angry red.
"Fiona...." They turned to see Bulvard stretch out his hand, his eyes misty as he saw Tumna standing in front of him. His sister flashed an angry look at them before holding her brothers hand. As she soothed him she shot another suspicious look at the witch and instantly Elanor reeled back like she had been slapped as a flash of a vision hit her.
"Anything! I will give you anyhting but let me and my family go!" a distressed voice said. The speaker, a young man backed against a wall stood in front of a few goblins with their weapons drawn.
"Anything?"
"Of course! Just let us go!" Elanor saw the dribble of blood runing from the mans mouth and the terror in his eyes.
"Then bring us the tall warrior, the one named Bulvard!"
"What?! He is my brother in law I-" The goblin began to approach, his sword flashing and the young man started to gabble. "Of course! I will give him to you myself! But please let me go free!"
"Then go!"
FLASH!
"How could you!? My own brother!"
"I had no choice! Would you choose me or him!" The young man was shouting now and was faced by a red haired young woman. She paused, hurt and anger in her eyes.
"Well Culloth!? Who would you choose!"
She turned, a tear slipping down her face but determination etched on it. She slowly reached for the dagger in her belt. Spinning around she stuck it directly into the mans ribs.
"I had no choice my husband." She whispered quietly as he dropped to the floor. "I am sorry."
Elanor dropped the crystal to the floor, staring at Culloth, who had now risen and stood even more suspiciously in front of the stricken witch.
"You...you killed him..."
"How dare you accuse me! And who and why would I kill?" She was outraged.
"You...he was..." She staggered but Culloth, angry as she was had the grace to catch the yound witches wrist, bending her head to hear the last bit of what she said. "Your husband..." The last two words left Elanors lips in a tiny whisper only Culloth could hear but her head shot back up.
"Who are you?" She murmered shocked to the now unconcious woman.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas lowered the arrow which he had trained on the newcomer all the while since she arrived and made all the noise. he unstrung his bow and replaced it back to it's resting place.
"Who have we picked up now?" he wondered, " not another misguided soul to torment everyone."
He crept back up the tree and settled down once more, the morning would spare enough time or him to know more of this Culloth.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: The Viking Thunder ]

[Elenna]

"Stop this foolishness!" Elwyn cried, from where Bulvard lay, unconscious again. "Why does it matter who is in charge of him? I have been tending him since Tumnaooriel came to us and he took his first spell. All of this arguing makes no difference."

The warrior woman stalked up to the elf-maid. "And what would you know about my brother, elf? How dare you say what is best for him?"

Suddenly, Bulvard groaned again, sitting up and crying "Fiona!". Elwyn glared at Culloth and knelt beside him, running a cool hand over his brow. "Shhhh. Sleep. Everything's all right." she whispered. Bulvard reached up and covered her hand with his own, his eyes staring up at her but not really seeing Elwyn Arienwen. And he slept.

"That, Culloth, is how I know what is best for him. You may join our company and care for your brother, but I am a trained healer and he trusts me. Do not let your predjudice of elves hurt him."

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard slept, his head rested on Elwyn's lap, his brow furrowed as he dreamed.
Fuzzy dark shapes moved around, bright lights flashed in sudden bursts, a woman's face floated up and faded away, she kept calling his name...a bird screeched.

Suddenly Aronja screeched loudly, making everyone jump...

"What's that bird screaming for?" asked Culloth.

"That's Bulvard's falcon," replied Gwyn, " It seems to have a mental connection with him."

"What, that's insane," said Culloth angrily.

"It is true," replied Elanor.

"You better stay away from me, witch." hissed Culloth.

"But you must believe..." said Elanor softly raising her arms upward.

Suddenly the falcon screeched again and Bulvard's voice seemd to emerge from it's being...

"Dying Swans, twisted wings, Beauty not needed here
Lost my love, lost my life, in this garden of fear
I have seen many things, in a lifetime alone
Mother love is no more, bring this savage back home
Wilderness, house of pain, makes no sense of it all
Close my mind, dull this brain, messiah before his fall
What you see is not real, those who know will not tell "

The bird screeched again and fell to the ground even as Elanor collapsed where she was standing.

"Bah, even more foul elvish trickery," shouted Culloth and even Gwyn seemed to think so this time.

Everyone stared at the stilled body of the witch. Bulvard groaned softly.

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

[Elenna]

The hawk landed on a perch that had been rigged for her next to where Bulvard lay. Elwyn absentmindedly stroked the soft feathers of her breast as she dribbled a little water into Bulvard's mouth. The others were still arguing about what the hawk had said and what it meant. Bulvard's sister still didn't believe that it had really happened. Elwyn disagreed. She didn't know what powers this bond between hawk and man had, but she could see the effect it had on Bulvard. When the hawk was near, the man calmed and seemed to sleep easier. When she was distressed, so was he. As the hawk settled down, a smile crossed Bulvard's sleeping face.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The dappled sunlight coming from between the trees played on Elanors eyelids, waking her slowly. She half opened her eyes to see not many people were awake at this early hour of the morning. Yawning she got up, deciding to make herself useful; maybe it would improve her standing with the others.
You better stay away from me witch...
Culloths words came back to Elanor. She glanced nervously at Bulvards warrior sister, now lying on a small pile of leaves beside her brother. How had the witch become so entwined in the affairs of those who resented her? She thought of the strange episode with the hawk, the riddles it had spoken in, filling her mind with strange dreams throughout the night, although for some reason they had vanished as quickly as the morning dew. Why did the last line seem to overshadow the rest in her mind?
What you see is not real, those who know will not tell .
"Ive never been all that good at solving riddles." She loosed a small stream of sparks onto a pile of twigs she had collected, starting a small fire. She jumped as she heard a voice behind her.
"Making another potion to fool us all witch?" Elanor spun around as if she had been stung at Harolas' voice. He was lounging against a tree and his words were full of spite; whats more he did not seem tired, and Elanor realised he mus have been watching her all the time.
"Ah yes, what a potion, soup! Terrifying!" Harolas seemed to take the quiet murmer as more than it was and leapt on it.
"Yes thats right, brew your potion and mutter your words over it, plotting to poison us all-" He taunted, but Elanor interupted him.
"Why would I do that?!" She burst out. Her temper rarely flared up but this insolent elf was too much. "Why would I poison those who have showed me kindness, my companions and frien-"
"Dont say that word!" He cut her off just as sharply."I am certainly no friend of any deceitful witch. And I am sure the others would agree. Especially those you enchant and make ill, meddling in their buisness, distressing their families!"
"Thats not true!"
"Then what happened? Bulvard suddenly got ill without any cause?"
"No, I-"
"A hawk can speak like a man?"
"I had nothing to do with-"
"And you are at the root of it all." Culloth, now awake, relished the last words, hearing the desperation in the witchs voice. The witch, who had been backing away from the now standing elf spun around with a cry, running into the surrounding forest with a sob.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas grinned as we watched the witch run away... "I bet she's of to consort with her orcish comrades and plot more mischielf."

"Better she does that there and in our midst," said Culloth, yawning.

"Well, if she returns.. I have a few arrows with her name of them," said the elf archer.


Ooc - Hey, you wrote me in as a real meanie, Amanaduial. Well I'll play along.

[Amanaduial the archer]

im really sorry, if u dont like it ill change/get rid of it. U dont have to be a meanie, just really not like witches

[Elenna]

Suddenly Harolas reeled back. Elwyn had left her vigil by Bulvard's side just in time to hear what had gone on between him and Elanor. She had slapped him hard, leaving a red livid mark on his cheek.

"How could you!" she shouted, her red face the same color as her hair. "What did she do to you!"

"She is a witch. She deserved what she got." Harolas muttered, not understanding this new outburst. "She has caused all of the unnatural things that have been befalling us."

"What? She did nothing of the sort!"

"Elwyn, I thought you...I thought you liked me..." he said, uncertainly.

"And I thought that you were a better elf than this!"

Elwyn leapt on her horse and galloped in the direction that Elanor had taken.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor sat in the branches of a tree, her back against one of the leafy branches, tears running down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath she continued muttering to herself, as she had done for the past fifteen minutes.
"Harolas, I apologise. Im very sorry if I led you astray or dismayed you but i really havent done anything and why the blazes am I apologising its you who insulted me which is why Im sitting in a tree in the middle of a bleedin forest. It should be the other way aroun-ow!" She kicked the tree, yelped and clutched her foot. The previous apology attempts had gone similarly and her foot was throbbing.
"Why am I even apologising? Never been my strong point."
"I dont know why are you apologising Elanor? What did you do?" The voice almost made Elanor fall off her branch in shock.
"Elwyn. You dont...Harolas...I didnt do it- hang on a minute." She took a deep breath and looked down. "What?"
Elwyn sighed and the witch saw how flustered and upset she seemed. Elwyn sighed, her voice shaking but smiling. "Do I have to stand yelling or do I have permission to enter you abode?" Elanor offered her her hand and pulled her up. She'd barely got settled in a branch before she was speaking nonstop.
"Elanor, what happened? I know you didnt do anything and the way Harolas reacted was ridiculous, how can he think that?You really didnt do anything but they..." She trailed off at Elanors puzzled face.
"Hang on...You dont think I did anything?" Elanor spoke cautiously then winced as Elwyns face became exasperated.
"What?!I know you didnt do anything why-" She stopped, exasperated before giving Elanor a massive hug, knocking the breath out of her. Then the witch stiffened.
"What?" Elwyns voice was a whisper as she released Elanor.
"Well dont look now but is there anyone in the camp who could possibly have followed you?"
"I suppose..."
"Would they be wearing a dark cloak and be fixing an arrow on us right now?"
"What? No."
"Then we're in trouble! Move!" Elanor dragged her friend to the side as an arrow thudded into the bark where Elanors head had been a milisecond before. A laugh came from below them along with a spiteful voice.
"Now now ladies, don get flustered!" It taunted them. Elanors head shot up to see the attacker but she'd vanished.
"Just remember I'll be watching all of you. You and the witch, the warrior and his sister, the mysterious elf, the warriormaids and the archer-Im watching all of you." Elwyn and Elanor spun around as the voice sounded almost beside their ears but the mysterious figure had gone, a trail of malicious laughter sounding behind her...

[Elenna]

Elwyn had drawn her dagger and was turning around, searching for the malicious, dark-cloaked figure, but he or she was gone. Shaking, she leapt from the tree. "Come, Elanor. We should go back to the others." She mounted her horse and gestured for the witch to mount behind her. Elanor clutched her friend tightly around the waist as they rode off, back towards they who had spurned the innocent Elanor.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc- Um, is this mysterious malicious person the same one I had mentioned in my earlier post?

Bulvard awoke suddenly, his mind now clear as pure water from the mountains. He looked around to see no one in sight. Had he been dreaming it all?... then there in front of him stood a face he had known and loved all his life... Fiona and with her... a little girl... he reached out to them.. but they moved away.. suddenly Fiona started to laugh..a cruel malicious laugh...Bulvard broke out in a cold sweat.... then another woman appeared, none like he had known before and she beckoned to him, held out her hand..."Bulvard," she cried, "You must wake up and break free of this spell, it is your confinement to the bird that has led your mind asunder.... it was not a blessing but a curse that melded your conciousness with the falcon... curse of an old evil wizard...."
"No," cried Bilvard, "never ..not Aronja."
"Yes, warrior...it is true," said the white robed apparition.
"She lies, my love," said a cruelly smiling Fiona as Bulvard looked at her in horror.
"Who are you? he asked the apparition.
"I am Elanor and I have entered your dream to save you," said the young woman.
"No, lies...you are the witch," stammered Bulvard....
"Come with me..." intoned Fiona and Elanor in unison.

Bulvard's comatose body convulsed as he reached out to make a dreaded choice in his dreams.

"Kill the bird," rang out Elanor's voice as she almost fell of the horse, Elwyn grabbed her and steadied the young witch who was shaking like a leaf.

[ July 27, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC yes it is the same person that you mentioned cimm

Beads of sweat formed on Elanors forehead as she strained to enter Bulvards mind. Mind dwelling, as in proper entering the conciousness, had never been one of her favourite things, especially with unwilling subjects.
Then all at once the pressure flooded to calm relief as she found herself standing in a picturesque valley. The beauty of it took her breath away but then she saw not one figure, Bulvard, but two extras, a woman and a child. As she approached her eyes widened as she realised it was Fiona and his daughter. But how? She had cleared Bulvards mind, these were certainly not visions conjured up by his own thoughts. Someone else had got in? Surely not...
Bulvard reached out to the pair but "Fiona" moved away, taking the child, her mouth wide as she laughed. That laugh...Exactly like the laugh of the archer...
Elanor moved towards the pained man, her hand beckoning.
Bulvard...You must wake up and break free of this spell, it is your confinement to the bird that has led your mind asunder....it was not a blessing but a curse that melded your conciousness with the falcon...curse of an old evil wizard...."
Her voice rang like silver around the valley and almost had the desired effect, for Bulvard looked up at her smiling. Then a frown creased his brow. "No...never, not Aronja!"
"Yes warrior it is true."
Then the other started speaking, the one who pretended to be his wife. Elanor could not hear- the one controlling her had put up a barrier and was at the same time pushing her out. To the witches relief Bulvard turned back to her.
"Who are you?"
"I am Elanor and I have entered your dream to save you,"
"No, lies...you are the witch,"
Elanor groaned inwardly. What did everyone have against witches?!
"Come with me." Elanor spoke but at the same time saw the other womans lips move likewise. As the other looked at her, her grin twisted upwards and Elanor felt a powerful mind pushing against her. It was all she could do to leave her form in Bulvards mind before..
..she was back on Elwyns horse. She saw Bulvard convulsing on the floor and realised with a pang what she had to do, although it was the last thing she had wanted.
"Kill the bird." Her voice still held a fraction of the silver it had posessed in the valley but it was hoarser as she almost fell of Elwyns horse. The elfen woman caught her and dismouted, making sure the witch could stand steadily.
"What?!" Elanor flinched as Culloth stormed up to her, anger etched all over her face. "I know some of you have some highly strung ideas about the bird, but my brother cares for it, and he needs something to care for in the world."
"He has you doesnt he?" Elanors voice held only a trace of sarcasm but she immediatley regretted it. Culloth stopped, hr face truly hurt. She just stared at the witch in silence. Elanor tried to make ammends, her voice soft and earnest.
"Please...What your brother used to care for is what is holding him trapped inside his own mind. Something knows our weaknesses and Aranjo is Bulvards. Destroy it and he will be free. Please?"

[Elenna]

"So who will kill it?" asked Culloth caustically. "I cannot. He is my brother, and he loves that bird. Well, Elf? Will you do it?" she shot sarcastically at Elwyn. "If you know what is best for my brother, surely you can carry this out."

"I am a healer, Culloth, and not accustomed to killing in cold blood. But I am the only one who can kill the poor beast without causing it pain. And it trusts me." Elwyn whistled, and the hawk flew to her fist. She placed a hand on its breast and muttered "I am sorry, friend hawk." Then she closed her eyes, casting her spirit into the hawk. She could feel it's spirit, burning like a golden fire. But over it was a dark cloud, as if of smoke, black as night. Elwyn cast her red-gold flame like a curtain over this cloud, stifling it and the fire beneath. The bird went stiff in her hands and it's dark eyes clouded.

A single tear fell from Elwyn's eyes onto the creamy white feathers of the bird's breast. "Go swiftly, my friend hawk. Do not look back."

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor bit her lip as the bird went stiff to stop herself saying anything. Her mind knew it was the right and only thing to do, but her heart cried out for the life of the innocent creature. But that was nothing to what she got next...
The witch jolted as if hit physically as she felt Bulvard cry out. It was as if part of him had been ripped away and his body writhed on the forest floor nearby. Feelings flashed so fast through his mind that Elanor could not follow them, whirled around like a leaf in the wind of his mind. Fiona, on the other side of the tumult was changing as well. Her face changed, dripping as if made of wax. Like Elanor she had found something in Bulvards mind to cling onto physically to help her visualise it, and she clung to a child swing that blew eerily through the warriors mind. They were both in danger of being thrown off, but if the other was thrown off, both she and Elanor knew she wouldnt be able to get back in to this extent. She looked straight through the whirling chaotic visions at Elanor and the witch felt a strange tingle go down her spine.
"I will watch you witch. Never think any of you friends will remain true to you, for I will always find a way in. I am watching you and all your friends..." The swing suddenyl cracked and the woman was whirled away, her form melting and vanishing away from Bulvards mind. With the threat gone-for now- Elanor gratefully Elanor let go of her desperate grasp on the humans mind. She was thrown with breathtaking painful force into her body. There the others stood or sat, watching Bulvards convulsing writhing body...

[Cimmerian]

Coughing out blood, Bulvard awoke. He gasped for breath as he stared at those around him... and his eyes fell on the falcon that lay still in Elwyn's hands...
"Aronja..." he whispered hoarsely, reaching out for the dead bird.

He looked around in disbelief and distrust as the others shifted uneasily about him.

Clutching the cold, lifeless creature close to his breast he looked accusingly at everyone and cried, "What have you done... what have you done?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor looked at her hands. Culloth smiled and looked pointed at her.
"Oh, I think Im going to enjoy this. Go on witch. Would you like to explain just what happened to his hawk.
Bulvard swung around to face her his face tight with anger and his hand reaching for his dagger. "You! Why did-" He paused suddenly remembering when he had been unconcious, and the white robed magnificence who had entered his troubled dreams.
He looked at Aronja.
He looked at Elanor.
He looked at the dagger.
He looked back at Elanor. His face was still cold as his eyes burned like coals.
"You killed my bird." He stepped towards the terrified witch, his hand still holding the knife. "And doing so you killed my friend and companion."
Elanor stepped backwards and Elwyn started to walk towards the pair, her mouth open in protest. Culloth stopped her easily. "Hush elf. She is a black witch. My brother will give her what she deserves."
Bulvard continued to advance. "The link I had with a constant soulmate was severed when you ended his life." The unfortunate witch took another step backwards and hit the hard bar of a tree behind her. Gulping she stared up at the dagger Bulvard had raised above her head. Trying to take another step back she tripped on a root and fell heavily.
Ok, dai ja vous.... A small sarcastic voice said in the back of her head from somewhere behind the terrified immobilised part.
"For all this I could kill you-" The world hung on as he paused. Culloth held back Elwyn, who had paused her straining against the warrior woman. Harolas stared with a mixture of horror and confusion at the dagger. Tumnaooriel seemed to be in a dream. The others stared at the knife blade, their weapons in their hands, but doing nothing.
Why arent you moving!? Elanors mind screamed at them.
At the center of it stood the terrified witch shrinking against the tree and the warrior.
Suddenly he dropped the blade to the floor. It fell on its side, striking one of the roots of the tree with a dull thud.
"But you saved me from whatever held me in that trance. For that and the other we are equal." Bulvards face was not warm- he was hurting over the death of Aronja but he was not murderous anymore as he offered her a hand and pulled Elanor to her feet.

[Elenna]

Elwyn let out a deep sigh of relief. Pulling away from Culloth's restraining arm, she dashed up to where Bulvard and Elanor stood.

"Bulvard, how do you feel?"

"Like I've been trampled. But other than that, just perfect."

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood alone, tall and sullen as Elanor was helped away by Elwyn. Slight rain had started to fall as the man looked upward. It seemed that part of him had died...again, but this time it also freed his mind and soul. He thought clearly for the first time since the wizard had given him this gift.... of Aronja.

Culloth came over and put an arm around her brother's slouched shoulders, but she was curious and led him toward Tumnaooriel. The tall, white haired man looked down at the beautiful woman. She was shivering from the cold rain, but stood her ground and looked into his pale, grey eyes. Bulvard caressed her cheek and turned away.

"I must say, she does remind me of my beloved Fiona, but only in vision. I feel nothing else...there is no stiring in my heart for her." said Bulvard.

Tumnaooriel looked up in surprise.

"Elanor, you have saved me...that accursed wizard's gift was eating away at my mind and my soul.... you have saved me," the tall man continued, "and I will consider you a friend."

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel had been shocked by the reactionof the new-comer to her face. She had hoped to keep this revelatin from Culloth for a while, as she feared the reaction of the blunt woman might cause more friction in a group which was already fracturing around her. She had kept her hood up and remained quiet, in the hope that she would be overlooked, but she had known that she would have to be mentioned in the course of Bulvard's story.
"Fiona?" Culloth had gasped and Tumnaooriel longed to know more abut Fiona, whose memory seemed to cause both Bulvard and Culloth such pain , but she knew she would never be able to ask either of them about her.

Now that Bulvard was revived, she could hear the brother and sister talking about her and she turned away, not wishing to nkow what they said. She was glad of the rain; it gave her an excuse to raise her hood and hide her features. The light rain falling on her face also made it less visible that she was crying. She did not know what she could do to lessen the distress her appearence seemed to cause. She decided to go for a walk leaving the brother and sister to continune their discussion without distraction, but before she could leave the goup, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

[Elenna]

Elwyn supported Elanor as they walked over to a large tree. The healer set the witch down against it's sturdy trunk. Elanor was exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately. Elwyn sat with her, watching her as she slept. She didn't hear Harolas coming up behind her.

"Why do you care for that witch so, Elwyn Arienwen?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

"She is my friend, Harolas, witch or no."

"You are too trusting. Witches can be treacherous."

"I trust her with my life, Harolas. She could have slain all of us a million times over. Give her a chance."

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas looked at Elwyn in confusion but said nothing. He was still unsure of the witch, Elanor, even if she had supposedly cured Bulvard of his ailments. He decided to run ahead and scout around the gloomy surroundings. Alone, his thoughts could be clearer.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor mounted her horse with the others. They had decided to go ahead with the quest, as Bulvard was recovered. To Elanors relief, Culloth was no longer openly hostile, but she had not seen Harolas yet, for he had gone to scout ahead about an hour ago. Still, she couldnt shake off the memory of the archer in the woods, or the creature masquerading as Fiona, or the feeling that the two were somehow related. Under her breath she murmered a small protection spell, but with the sinking feeling it wouldnt do much about what they were up against...
As they rode through the trees the dappled sunlight played softly over them, relaxing them. The companions fell into amiable murmering conversation as they rode, even laughing as they talked. Then one laugh rang over the others, a long hard laugh with no mirth in it. Bulvard stopped the group, motioning his fingers to his lips. Once again the laugh rang out, followed by a howl.
Then another.
Then another and another...
The eerie howls rang around the forest, surrounding the group.
"Wargs? Or something worse..." She heard Elwyn mutter as she drew her weapons. Elanor loosened the straps on the sais in her sleeves as the gleaming eyes appeared around them...

OCC: sorry all, but i thought things should move on a bit, seeing as its really slowed down again

[Elenna]

Elwyn dismounted from her horse and strode forward, her spear clutched in her hand. Behind her, she could hear her horse begin to make shrill sounds of terror. Dashing back, Elwyn tried to calm the terrified beast.

"What is it?" she asked Bulvard, a note of fear in her voice. "Those sounds are like nothing I've ever heard before."

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

"Wargs." Gwyn rushed forward, unsheathing her sword.

"Arm yourselves!" she shouted to the group, "We have very little time. These Wargs are dangerous, and can kill us all quite easily." She squinted her eyes and looked about. "From the sounds of it, I'd say they are to the West."

Gwyn looked at the terrified expression on Elwyn's face.

"Don't be afraid. We have many valiant warriors here. I won't let harm come to my comrades, if I can help it."

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard sat down with a dazed expression on his face, apparently he had forgotten how to fight without his falcon.

He sat and stared at Tumnaooriel, she seemed vaguely familiar to him and he reached out and tried to touch her, but his visual perception was yet unclear and he ended up clutching at thin air.

smilies/frown.gif

[ August 17, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Nevtalathiel]

At the mention of wargs, Tumnaooriel shivered. She had never been raised to fight, she was only a farmer's daughter. Whenever there had been danger at home, she and her mother had hidden under the bed while her father and brothers rpotected their home and lands. She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them she would be back in the farmstead dozing by the fire. She was not surprised or disappoited when this did not happen. She merely sighed and wondered what she should do.
She looked across at Bulvard. Even this seasoned fighter seemed to be unaware of his surroundings or the danger threatening the group. He merely seemed to be straing into space, immersed in his own thoughts.
"Bulvard" she called gently, "Bulvard"

[Elenna]

"I am not afraid," Elwyn said icily to Gwyn. "I have met Wargs before. Just because I heal, you think I cannot fight. That couldn't be further from the truth."

But even Elwyn couldn't surpress a shiver as another unearthly howl pierced the air. She readjusted her grip on her long spear and with her keen elven eyes, tried to pierce the darkness that surrounded them.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard looked up in fear at the one who called his name. He felt unsure of what to do. The woman who called out to him looked vaguely familiar. She had her arms outstretched, beckoning to him. The tall, white haired man swiftly crawled over to her, as others rushed around in a chaotic manner.
Like a frightened child the huge man fell into her open embrace. Nestling his head into her warm bosom, he fell into blissful sleep.

Tumnaooriel was surprised, yet pleasantly so. She put her arm protectively around his broad shoulders and ran her other hand over his hair. She felt secure in the big warrior's arms as the others prepared to defend them.

Ooc - Allright, Aman! Lead the attack against the warg, Bul is out

[Elenna]

"Oh, Elbereth, not again," Elwyn muttered as she went over to help Tumnaooriel to lower the big warrior to the ground. "Just when you think he's recovered..."

Another unearthly howl split the peace of the night. Elwyn unsheathed her sword and stood over Bulvard. In the time she had been caring for him, she had developed a very protective attitude. She would be damned if she'd let some Warg hurt him.

[Nevtalathiel]

A warm glow spread through Tumnaooriel as Bulvard nestled in her arms and she felt a sudden affinity with the large warrior. She allowed Elwyn to help her lower the man to the ground, now fast asleep. Another howl rang out around the group and Elwyn unsheathed her sword and then looked down at Bulvard.
"It's ok," Tumnaooriel said, sensing the concern the other had for the great man, "I'll look after him, I can't fight so I might as well." But deep down she knew it wasn't true. She wanted to look after him, to make sure he was ok. She wondered why she felt so strongly for a man she'd only just met and remembered how it had felt for the few moments he was in her arms. It was a feeling she didn't want to lose.

[Elenna]

"No, Tumnaooriel. I cannot allow you to guard him if you cannot fight. It would be too dangerous for you and for him. Take my horse and this dagger and prepare for the worst. I will protect Bulvard. I have a strange feeling that all of this has something to do with him, and he must be protected."

Tumnaooriel nodded reluctantly and took the knife from Elwyn. Just as she was about to get on the tall blood bay mare, another piercing howl sent a shiver up her spine. Whatever it was was getting closer.

[Ransom]

A dark figure ran through the woods, panting and cursing. His right hand clutched the handle of a bastards sword, it's dark blade wet with wolf's blood. His left hand held a bow, though his quiver had long been emptied of arrows. Ransom Deviolana cursed again, feeling a stab of pain in his left leg. Some accursed wargs had attacked him while he slept. My, how this world has gone down the drain. He had figured that a vacation to the land of his old employer, one King Rafflensher XXIII. So much for a nice, quite hike....

[ August 27, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stirred suddenly and looked around frantically. His eyes widened in fear at the chilling sounds of howling. The beautiful woman he held on to earlier was no where in sight. Suddenly he noticed someone standing over him. It's her! His mind cried and the large warrior grabbed Elwyn from behind and dragged her down. Holding her face down in the dirt, he whispered, "I won't let them take you... not this time. I will keep you alive." and then the heavy man collapsed into a state on unconsciousness, pinning the elf maid under his vast bulk.

[Ransom]

What was that?

Ransom had heard a dull *umph* up ahead, along with the sound of armour falling. A quick glance caught the figure of an vaugly human shape, but no more. Who else would be out here now?

Another howl issued from the right. The wargs were trying to flank him. Only one choice. Ransom began to turn left, heading toward the sounds and praying to the gods that they weren't orcs. He stowed his bow, giving him use of both hands.

Too late. The warg to his right burst from the bushes, snapping his teath and clawing. A paw dug into his right arm, between his mail shirt and his gauntlets. Ransom swung his left hand with desperation, hearing a satisfying crunch as the gauntlet impacted the warg's head, sending it reeling backwards and exposing the neck. With a quite swish, the wolf lost it's head.

Without pausing, Ransom began to run again, but fatigue and blood loss began to slow him and blurr his vision. He didn't see the body of a Gondorian knight in the way, nor hear the shouting of the elven maiden pinned under him. A boot slammed into a leg, and Ransom quickly saw the ground approaching his head before blessed oblivion overcame him.

[Elenna]

Elwyn struggled in vain, pinned under Bulvard's heavy bulk. She could hear growls and shouts coming from around her, but the small amount of air that she could take in was not enough to scream.

She could feel herself falling into unconsciousness, and prayed to the Valar with all her might. "Let Bulvard and the rest be spared." Then, all around her were shadows.

[Ransom]

Ransom's head spun as he regained consciousness to a dull scratching noise and short, ragged gasps. He groaned, rolling on his back. His wounds had tapped his strength, and a slow, steady stream still trickled down his leg and pooled in his gauntlet. Wherever he was, it had once been a campsite, and some low flames still flung their light.

Another short breath came from his left. It appeared the 'log' he had triped on. A knight, protected by a dazzeling suit of white armor, had pinned an elf under his chest, forming a rough X. That woman's probably having some trouble breathing. Maybe they can tell me where I am.....

With more than a few gasps of pain, Ransom managed to roll the knight foward, so his body rested across said elf's legs. He sat back down beside the two, resting for a moment while the elf gasped for breath.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard leapt to his feet, his elegant broadsword in hand, in a flash. He struck at the newcomer with the flat of his blade.
The man, fell to the ground stunned, sprawling. Even as the huge warrior brought down his weapon in a killing blow at the stunned man, Elwyn moved between the two men.

"Stop!" she yelled, her voice trembling. "He is not the enemy," the elf maid's breath came in short gasps.

Bulvard merely loomed over the fallen man, like a brooding giant of slaughter and destruction. All signs of what ailed him, now completely a thing of fading memory.

[Ransom]

A dull metalic noise echoed through the grove, followed by another dull clank as Ransom hit the floor for the fourth time that night. That in and of itself was not a good sign. On the bright side, he had landed next to his sword. And someone between him and the knight.

Breathing hard, he grabbed the sword and jumped to his feet, holding the sword in a Knight's salute. Time seemed to slow, as each of the three slowly looked each other over. It seemed as the next person to speak would seal their fate....

[Elenna]

Elwyn stood between the two bristling men, trying to catch her breath. "This man is not the enemy, Bulvard. He saved me."

"Saved you from what, Elwyn?" Bulvard asked suspiciously. "You aren't in any danger."

Briefly Elwyn told the tale of his waking dream. Bulvard lowered his sword slowly, abashed at hearing what he had done. The stranger did the same, but the tension between them remained. Elwyn turned to the new man.

"I am Elwyn Arienwen, friend. Who are you, and what business brings you to us?"

[Ransom]

"My name is Ransom Deviolana. In the days of my youth I lived near the city of Gondor until the orcs sacked the small village that my parents had dwelt in. Now, I simply wander the land. One of my first employers was the king of this land, and I had thought that a vacation to his lands would do me good. Alas, he has fallen in battle and some of the roudier detizens of the land ambushed me as I slept."

As he talked, Ransom lowered his sword, sensing that the general atmosphere needed a little calming. The wolve's howling seemed to have quited, though only the Valar knew what they were up to.

"Now may I enquire of your strong friend's name? If my eyes do not decieve me, he bears a certain likeness to a Gondorian knight."

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel had tried to follow the orders she had been given, but after only a few minutes of riding through the forest, she had slowed down and turned back. She felt she could not leave the group who had fought to rescue her, least of all Bulvard. For some reason unknown to her, the tall man intrigued her and she could not just leave him, especailly when he might be in danger.
Now she could see another man in the clearing and Elwyn standing between him and Bulvard. Moments before she had heard the clash of steel on steel, something which had merely hardened her resolve to return to the group. The other man seemed to be talking, but she could not hear what he said, nor did she care. She leapt from the horse and rushed into the clearing, not worrying for the moment if she was putting herself in danger.
"Bulvard! Are you ok?" was all she could think to say.

[Cimmerian]

The tall, white haired warrior looked up at the one who called his name, his clouded look softening. "Who are you?" he asked, yet at once feeling that he somehow knew her.

"I am Tumnaooriel," the young woman replied. "Have you forgotten all that has transpired for the last few days?"

Bulvard looked at her with slight confusion, then his expression changed to one of surprise. "Yes," he said, as if realizing something vague, "You are the young woman who somewhat resembles my dearly departed wife."

Tumnaooriel sighed, her shoulders sagging with relief. All seemed well with the large man. Elwyn placed a hand on Bulvard's arm, smiling she said, "My tall friend, you weigh more than you look. Come, we have much evil to deter."

"Bulvard!" cried Ransom, "I have heard of your name. Had you not fought in the great wars alongside Thengel the second."

"Aye!" replied Bukvard, turning his grey, soul searching gaze upon the newcomer, "And I ask for your pardon in misjudging you. As you can see there is very little one can trust in these parts."

"Do not mention it, great knight," Ransom laughed, coughing slightly, "I too am well aware of our precarious situation here."

Suddenly a wild-eyed woman burst upon the foursome, brandishing a bloodied sword. "The wargs are on the run." she cried, "Bulvard!" her eyes widened, "You are up... are you well." Then looking suspiciously at ransom, she cried, "Who is this?"

Bulvard looked grimly at his sister, all the remaining clouds cleared in his head and the memories came rushing back. "I am well, Culloth." he replied, "This is Ransom and he is of our beloved Gondor. Ransom, this is my sister Culloth."

" pleased to make you acquain..."

"Well allright," the woman snapped, "let us go and give chase, the warg are getting away?"

"Must he go?" pleaded Tumnaooriel, "He has just recovered from..."

"Silence, you coward" Culloth yelled, much to Ransom and Elwyn's surprise, "My brother does not need coddling from a fawning female. He is a warrior, he wears his battle scars as proudly as anyone. Come, Bulvard."

"I agree," said Elwyn and Ransom shrugged.

A smile creased across the tall warrior's roughened face, his eyes warmed and gave Tumnaooriel a look of reassurance. He then followed his older sister, his broadsowrd in hand. Elwyn and the newcomer followed, leaving Tumnaooriel looking dazed.

Bulvard's mind had now cleared completely. Apparently his connection with Aronja being severed, proved to be a blessing in disguise.
As they approached Gwyn and Harolas, the sun began to climb up on the eastern shore.

[Elenna]

Elwyn sighed happily as she grabbed her spear and jogged off after Bulvard. It seemed that the big warrior had fully recovered and was back to normal.

"I wonder what Tumnaooriel is thinking now," she muttered to herself as she ran. "One minute he is falling asleep in her arms, and the next he doesn't even remember her name."

[Ransom]

Ransom's leg had progressed from a dull pain to sharp, stabbing bursts of pain. Each step, nay, each breath hurt. Was this Culloth woman bloodthirsty? Did she not know that the Warg would quickly flank them? That they enjoyed the hunt?

To his right, Elwyn gave a shout while looking to his right. Too late.

The first warg died in midair, His head nearly severed by a black blade. Someone behind yelled another warning. Ransom felt like he was moving in water, the world seeming to slow. Another wolf jumped at him, only to fall with half a foot of steel poking out of his back. The last memory was a dull thud that knocked him to the ground, followed by the clang of Elwyn's spear as it bit through the wolf and impacted his armor. For the second time, blackness consumed him.

[ August 31, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Elenna]

Elwyn leapt lightly over wolf corpses to stand over Ransom. "It seems that I am forever fated to be defending someone," she thought grimly to herself as she cut down a Warg trying to sneak up on her from behind. Elwyn didn't know whether Ransom was dead or merely unconscious, but, new friend as he was, she wouldn't let a Warg touch him while she could still hold a spear.

[Ransom]

I must be in heaven.

Ransom must be forgiven for his mistake, for not many mortal men have awoken to a female elven face gazing down at him. He shall perform much penance later. But in the meanwhile, he felt a stabbing pain as Elwyn bandaged his hand. This definutly wasn't heaven. He lifted his head a little, gazing around the campsite. Culloth paced back and forth, wringing her hands at the delay, Bulvard was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he had gone after Tumnaooriel, or searching for wood. Elwyn had finished bandiging the hand, and now checked if he had woken. He saved her the trouble.

"I owe you a great boon, Elwyn. Twice tonight you have saved me, and you have also cared for me."

[ September 01, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Elenna]

Elwyn blushed and smiled. "Sir, I owe you nothing. You have fought bravely and I did no more than is my duty to one such as you."

Ransom struggled to sit up and she pushed him back with a firm but gentle hand.

"Unless you wish to experience the worst dizziness you have ever felt, stay where you are. You did lose quite a lot of blood - it was an hour or so before the fighting ceased and I could tend you."

[Ransom]

Ransom took her advice. The very act of attempting to sit up had sent a wave of dizziness dancing through his head. Elwyn seemed to tower over him as she stood, disappearing for a moment. Ransom took the time to slowly think over his logic for taking a vacation to this area. Most of the reasons involved good food and rest, a perfect illustration of his planning skills. Elwyn returned, holding a canteen. Ransom's mind flickered back to his childhood, when his parents had told him of the Valkyries, the female warriors that took the souls of the slain to heaven. How his mother had scolded his father for filling his mind with 'useless knowledge'.

Now, he could swear that his father had seen...

His musings were interrupted by Elwyn as she slowly poured water into his parched mouth. "Do not drink too quickly, Ransom. Too much will make you sick."

Nodding his thanks, he settled back down, intending to sleep. Oh how he prayed that Bulvard would return soon...

[ September 02, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Nevtalathiel]

After such harsh words from Culloth and the momentary lack of recognition she had recieved from Bulvard, Tumnaooriel felt that she wanted to be alone for a while. Walking away from the group no longer worried her and she felt as if it would please Culloth, who seemed to have taken a sudden dislike to her.
Aware that there were wargs in the vicinity, she walked only a short distance before looking for a suitable tree to climb, choosing one with a stout trunk and a few solid branches at around chest height. After several minutes of scrabbling she was perched on branch which she hoped would be just out of reach of any warg jaws. She would have been unwilling to climb any higher even if she had the stregth to.
She sat and mused over the events of the past days and found herself quietly singing the song Bulvard had sung on the night she had scared him so badly. She still didn't fully understand what was going on and suddenly realised that it scared her. Bulvard's behaviour towards her was erratic; sometimes he was scared of her, sometimes indifferent; sometimes affectionate. What was to stop him suddenly becoming violent? She shivered at the prospect and tried to think of something else.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard enjoyed himself. The rush of battle, the scent of fear, the howls and screams of agony spurred the great warrior on as his broadsword sang, hewing wargs to shreds.
It had been a long time since he had been in the thick of battle, free of Aronja's hold, it was an exhilirating feeling.

In his bloodthirsty state, Bulvard failed to noticethat his sister was no where in sight, all he focused on was slaying wargs.

Suddenly the howling wargs began to retreat, as the tall, savage-like warrior plowed through them. And then his grey eyes fell upon a small form huddled in a corner, his wild glare softened and he lifted the limp form of Elanor, the witch, into his arms. Looking into her trance-like stare, he felt a certain sense of belonging. Turning around, he strode back toward where the others were, his battle-crazed state of mind relaxing with every step.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn looked about at her ever-growing group. Culloth was becoming increasingly harder to bear, with her air of authority and command. Harolas had been fighting with her, and fighting well. Calixto had long been missing. At the moment, she was unsure of the where-abouts of Tinrunya and Ain, but had seen Tumnaooriel ride off after harsh words from Culloth. Bulvard seemed to be recuperating, thanks to Elwyn and Elanor. Speaking of Elwyn....

Gwyn approached the red-haired Elf.

"Elwyn," she said abruptly, "I... apologize for my words. I know you are brave. I was mistaken of your fear. But how is Bulvard?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor stood, her back against a tree, her mind turned away from her body. Her hand was clutched in a vice like grip around her staff, which glowed softly.
A small tendril of the witches mind reached out, oblivious of the chaos happening around her, searching for the wargs.
pain...anger...must fight... Elanor searched through the normal feelings of the creatures, pushing aside the simple predator instincts. She was almost about to give up when a simple word stopped her as she was leaving the mind of the apparent leader.
fear
Elanor froze. This was not an instinct you should find in a mind as wild as a wargs, and it set off alarm bells in her head. Carefully, she went a little deeper...
Magic...follow the magic...bring them to the magic...
Elanors mind flicked back in shock as she heard these words. Bulvard was holding her protectively to his chest, one hand brandishing a sword. Behind him, a stranger flourishing a serated blade was peering over the warriors shoulder.
"Who is this woman....why does he look at her like that...silver eyes like that cannot be natural... The strangers first few suspicious thoughts floated from his alert, curious head into Elanors mind. Even faced with this puzzling flash of events, the witch couldnt be surprised after what she had felt in the wargs mind.
"The wargs!" She gasped. "They are lead by magic. They are bringing us to the source of it. They...they are afraid!"
Bulvards face changed from the almost peaceful expression he had had when watching her to horrified alertness. Elwyn appeared at the strangers shoulder, equally horrified.
"So that is why they havent openly rushed us yet-" She paused and held up a hand. After a second Elanors refreshed senses picked up what the elf had. Footsteps. The chink of some sort of weapon. Rustling of nets. The ring of wargs eyes that surrounded the group was joined by other eyes. Whirling around, the witch flung out her hand gripping the staff, a spell forming on her lips, but she was cut short by a yell from the outsiders. A net was thrown in her direction, covering and tangling her limbs- and her staff. She saw Elwyn go down under the same net before something knocked the back of her head, and darkness fell around her...

[Elenna]

Elwyn fought the tangled ropes of the net like a crazy woman. She didn't worry about herself - only about Bulvard and Ransom.

"They still need me! Culloth and Gwyn can't take care of them. And what of Harolas? I don't even know where he is!" Her fingers split and bled as she clawed at the rough rope.

But all thought ended as she was clubbed down by something heavy. Her blue eyes rolled back in her head and she remembered no more.

[Ransom]

Ransom did not like this development. Wargs are one things. Nets and metal weapons are another. He had picked himself up at the arrival of the two woman. Their yells of surprise sent Ransom grabbing for his sword and rising to feet. Elwyn's earlier advice was sound, for waves of dizziness immediatly battered his mind. He dimly saw the net come flying toward him, before a heavy, blunt object impacted.

[Cimmerian]

An ululating war cry split the chaos around them as Bulvard rushed at the assailants, they seemed far more formidable than wargs.
His broadsword in one hand and a foot long blade in the other, the large man, slashed and hacked his way forward. Elanor had slipped away from his grasp and he caught a glimpse of Elwyn as she struggled against a netting thrown over her. Everything seemed to spin, and from the corner of his eye, the tall, white haired warrior saw Ransom stumble and fall to the ground.

Suddenly Culloth was by his side, brandishing a bloodied sword, "What's going on now?" she shouted over the din.

"A newer, more potent evil is..." but before Bulvard could finish a bolt of sheer energy hit the ground before them, lifting and hurling the sister and brother high into the air and over the nearby trees.

Landing with heavy thuds, the two warriors lay on their backs. Then Tumnaooriel suddenly appeared before Bulvard’s eyes.
“Oh no!” she gasped and gently caressed the large warrior's blood stained face. "Please don't be dead."

Culloth sat up with a grunt, “Quick, to arms. Our allies are being taken.” She struggled to her feet even as Tumnaooriel sighed in relief and helped Bulvard up.

[Nevtalathiel]

Releived but still slightly dazed at what had just happened, Tumnaooriel took a deep breath and summoned up all her courage to reply to Culloth, who was already disappearing through the trees, back in the direction she and Bulvard had just flown from.
"I can't fight" she said, as loudly as she could manage, waiting in anxious fear for Culloth's response. There was a pause. "How many people are you fighting, if it is people, is it worth going back, or would it be safer to stay here, or hide, or run away? I know it sounds cowardly, but if we have no chance of winning then..." her voice trailed off under the withering stare Culloth gave her and Tumnaooriel felt herself shrinking back behind Bulvard, more scared of his siter than him.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor leant against a tree in a quiet wood, her eyes closed blissfully. Dappled light played over her eyes and her eyes were damp with water from the lake. A breeze blew past her, blowing a strand of air over her face. She lifted a hand to brush it off...

...at which point she found she could not move her hand.
The witches eyes snapped open and she found herself propped against a small cell wall, her hands bound behind her. In case there were guards she didnt move, simply flicked her eyes sidewards and to her relief she saw she was not alone; Elwyn sat nearby. Stretching out her foot, Elanor prodded her friend gently, and was greeted by a groan from the elf.
"Where in the name of Yavanna are we?" she muttered.
"Believe me, if I knew Id tell you!" Elanor whispered back, relieved that Elwyn seemed alright. "How are you? And how did we get here?"
"Well Id be much better if I wasnt tied with this blasted rope! Otherwise Im-"
"Rope?" Elanor interupted suddenly. That was strange; when the witch had moved her hands around she had been sure...just to make sure she twisted them around and felt the cold bite of metal into her wrists.
"Elwyn?" Elanors voice was tinged with panic as she moved her body around so her friend could see how she was tied. "Elwyn, whats around my wrists?"
The healer seemed puzzled as she answered. "Well...well the strange thing is...I could swear that was gold! Strange...too good for plain old rope?" Her parched voice was tinged with humour but the mortal girl had turned pale in the semi darkness. She leant her head back against the cold wall.
"Gold? No...please by all the gods no..." Gold. The only substance to render a witch completely powerless.
"Elwyn, I fear whoever is holding us here knows far too much about us...and our weaknesses..." She murmered.

[Elenna]

Elwyn writhed furiously, but the rope was tied too tightly. A stream of livid curses came from the elf maid's mouth, causing Elanor to raise her eyebrows.

But Elwyn didn't stop. She needed to get away - she had friends who needed her healing, and here she was, bound like a criminal. Hot tears of pure rage poured down Elwyn's face.

Then Elwyn gasped. Someone was standing over her.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard and Culloth raced back in the direcion they had been hurled away from, with Tumnaooriel follwing them hurriedly, but not with meek protest. She longed to be with Bulvard, for in him she sensed a feeling of belonging she had never felt anywhere else. But not like this, not in the middle of a war, she bit her lip and ran after the two war torn siblings.

When Bulvard and his sister finally reached the spot where the bulk of the battle took place, to their astonishment, nothing was there. Not even the slain bodies of the warg. Everything had seemingly disappeared and the air clung around them in a blanket of deathly chill.

Tumnaooriel ran up beside Bulvard and put her hands around the vast expanse of his upper arm. Instinctively he put his arm around the woman and held her tightly, though his eyes absently gazed over the forlorn landscape.

"Where could they all have gone?" Culloth barked.

"Calixto... Gwen... Harolas...Elwyn...and... and sweet Elanor," mumbled Bulvard.

"Aiwn and Ransom as well," whispered Tumnaooriel, holding on to the big warrior for dear life.

"Let go of him, you... you woman," growled Culloth and Tumnaooriel heart skipped a beat.

Bulvard's embrace tightened and her looked down at the trembling woman. Her large eyes looked up at him pleadingly and he drowned in them. "Leave her be, sister Culloth," he said, "She is of no harm to me, she needs our help as much as I need her company." He smiled and a feeling of warmth and love over came Tumnaooriel, melting her fears away for the moment.

Culloth grunted and sifted around the ravaged landscape around them. "Where do we look for them?" she growled to herself.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor pushed her mind out, trying to force them past the tight bands of gold around her wrists. Every time she thought she was getting anywhere, an icy mind shattering blow hit like a whip over her mind.
Exhausted she closed her eyes and stopped trying, the silence only broken by the sound of Elwyn scalding the air with curses. Suddenly her struggles stopped with a gasp. Elanor opened her eyes sharply and looked up to see a tall cloaked figure standing over them, flanked by two others. Its face was obscured by a deep hood, but something other than its lack of identity was missing to the witch. Then she realised- nothing. The complete absence of his thoughts that usually came to Elanor when she met any stranger was obscured not only by the gold, but by a dark void in his mind, and it terrified her to her very soul. The void, deafening in its silence was overwheming, dragging Elanor under-
"Who are you? Where in the name of perdition are we? How dare y-" Elwyns angry tirade was cut off sharply by the sound of flesh on flesh. Looking dazedly over the mortal saw her friend sprawled on the floor, her cheek reddening, biting back tears. The figure drew his hand back into a fold in his cloak.
"You will come with us." The voice that came from the cloak was emotionless and expressionless, as empty as the void. The rope connecting Elanors handcuffs to the wall was severed and one of the sidekicks drew her to shaky feet. Beside her the same was happening to Elwyn, although the elf tried to resist until a blade was withdrawn from the figures belt.
"Where are our companions?" Elanor managed to murmer.
"All four of them, the women, the elf and the man, are also coming to face Him." The empty voice sent shivers down Elanors mind..until she realised what they had said. All four of them. Just four of them. She glanced sharply across at Elwyn and saw he same spark of hope in her eyes. Not seven. Four.
But the man...which man? Elanors mind kept returning to Bulvard- but why? Why not think of Ransom. But the fisrt tall warriors face welled up in Elanors mind and she clung to it, desperatly hoping he was not the one they had. They were dragged out of the cell but the witch was aware of nothing but the image in her mind...

[ September 14, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Elenna]

Elwyn struggled hard against her bonds, more furious than ever.

"You will NEVER catch Bulvard like this! He could rip you apart with his bare hands!"

"I'm sure he could, if he were able to get close enough, wench. Now stop your caterwauling. He will not like it."

Elwyn replied with a stream of unladylike language. The man grabbed her chin and forced her up to her feet, then cursed as she sank her teeth into his hand and struck at him with her head.

"Don't you EVER lay a hand on me again, you spawn of an orc and a donkey!"

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas crept around amidst the slain bodies of wargs and orc, retrieving most of his arrows. He had perched himself up on a tree and launched arrow after arrow into the fray below, eahc one on target with telling effect. He had seen, Elwyn and Bulvard struggling in the thick of things. And Elanor succumb into one of her trances. Gwyn and Aiwn fought valiantly side by side. The crazed woman, Culloth, enjoyed herself as she spilled blood. The carnage that went on a few moments ago could turn even the strongest of stomachs. Now, the rotting flesh of the slain would do worse.

Harolas wondered at what could have happened to Calixto, their leader. Could he have been tainted and corrupted by the powers of evil. There was much mystery around these parts and the sooner they found Calixto, the sooner would they all the answers.

Ooc - Who is this mystery villian, is it Calixto?

[Nevtalathiel]

Nothing. Where moments before there had been a raging battle, there was nothing. No wargs, no blood, no attackers, no companions; nothing. It was as if all traces of the battle had simply been removed from the face of the earth, as if there had never been a battle, as it had all been a figment of someone's imagination which had been projected onto the world. Tumnaooriel chewed her lip and surveyed the area in silence, Bulvard and Culloth doing the same, despite Culloth's initial angry outburst. At a closer look, it was clear that the battle had been real. Whoever had been in charge of cleaning up the scene had clearly not paid much attention to detail. There were areas of trampled grass, small cuts in the trunks of trees, a few small crimson spots here and there; nothing which on it's own would have been evidence of a battle, but which together told a story, or part of one.
Hesitantly leaving the protection of Bulvard's srtong arm, Tumnaooriel stepped delicately towards the other side of the clearing, to see if there was anything else which had been left for them to see, if they looked properly. Between two of the trees, both of which had lower branches missing, she thought she could discern a trail, as if something heavy had been hurredly dragged away. Bending down, she could see that the earth was rutted in places and grass and further away larger shrubs had been torn up and dragged along with whatever it was, leaving muddy streaks and gashes in the ground.
"I think I've found something" She said quietly, not taking her eyes of the track in case it too disappeared.

[Carnëiach]

OCC: Aman here

Elanor was dragged oblivious down the long corridors, barely noticing even Elwyns rage in her turned in world. The silence...the absence of thoughts...the void...

A pair of double doors were thrust open and the witch was thrown to the floor, although it was almost a relief, as it was cushioned with thick lustrous white carpet. Beside her Elwyn was complaining loudly about this treatment and hurling insults so spectacular at the guards that Elanor had to smile. However as a pair of doors near the far end of the hall were thrown open with a flourish even Elwyns tirade paused, with a small mutter of, "So whos this new clown?"
"Oh a clown? Shame on you elf, to speak of your, what was it again- oh yes, brave and honourable leader like that?" The voice tsked and let for a small chuckle that was completely devoid of any humour.
Elanors smile froze and reality rushed back like ice water. She recognized that voice as she recognised any voice she ever heard, even though the thoughts werent accompanying it.
Are we all ready? The journey shall be long and we do not have a fixed date to return. his first words came back to the witch accutely. Barely breathing she looked up slowly to see an elf lounging in a huge chair (a throne?). His sharp features curved into a smile as he looked piercingly at the witch.
"Ah, the great witch returns to us. Not so bold with gold around your wrists eh?"
"Calixto!" Elanor breathed.

[Elenna]

Elwyn responded to Calixto with another spectacularly long insult which made the guards' jaws drop with shock.

Calixto gestured and the guards forced Elwyn to her feet. "Come, pretty one, you should show more respect to your leader."

Then he reeled backwards as Elwyn spit in his face. He cuffed her hard across the face, and when she continued to stare back at him defiantly, he struck her hard on the jaw. The elf-maid's head snapped back, and Elanor gasped as Elwyn collapsed bonelessly, completely unconscious.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor flinched, shocked, as the one they had called their leader struck her friend on hard on the jaw. Elwyns teeth clicked together and her eyes rolled back into her head. A thin trickle of blood spilled from a small cut on her chin where one of Calixtos elaborate rings had cut it.
He looked with disdain at his ring, with the elven blood on it. His glance flicked to Elanor and he stepped towards her. She steeled herself not to give in and move away. She stared at the floor, concentrating although she knew it was useless with the gold binding her.
"Aww, do not look away witch. I have other things planned for you than your rather insolent friend. Come, look me in the face."
Elanor continued to glare at the floor. Maybe if she could use Elwyns strong feelings...
"Look at me witch!" His voice was more forceful. Elanor drew on it, mustering its pitiful strength...
His hand touched her shoulder, and she threw back the power at him. A spark. A simple spark. She slumped with disappointment- all that had happened was that Calixto had twitched slightly...and made him alot angrier. His strong thin fingers grasped her chin and he forced her head upwards, digging them in so hard so bit her lip to stop herself reacting. She went from one extreme to the other and stared deep into his eyes, the vivid green depths of hers meeting the dark blue of his. For a moment he stayed like this before leaning within an inch of her face and whispering to her.
"Your power is strong, I know this. But you will join with me and give me it, and belive me it shall be far better if you do this willingly!" His voice was like a crystl knife and for a moment Elanor was too terrified to do anything. She would have given anything to attack him like Bulvard, or yell and spit like Elwyn. But she could do nothing. He smiled, stroking the side of her face with his free hand briefly.
"You shall be my source of power."
He released her and she slumped slightly, before the guards once more dragged them to their feet and took them both, dragging the unconcious Elwyn, back to the cell. Quietly, Elanor prayed for Bulvard and Culloth to come and free her from the traitor...

[ September 19, 2002: Message edited by: Carnëiach ]

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood still, a faint sound had alerted his war-honed hearing. They were follwing the faint trail that Tumnaooriel had spotted. Culloth grumbled at the sheer absurdity of following such a trail.

"Hush!" Bulvard whispered, "There is someone here."

"You have elvish hearing now?" Culloth said curtly and Tumnaooriel stared at the woman in exasperation, nothing pleased this one, she thought.

"There, the Lady Gwyn. She is injured!" Bulvard cried. The three of them ran to where the warrior woman of Rohan lay very still.
As they approached her, another tall and slim figure came up noiselessly from the other side.
Both Bulvard and Culloth drew their swords instantly but held their ground when Tumnaooriel cried, "It's Harolas."

"Aye, my friends." replied the elf, "And I had known it was you all along. Had it not been so, you would be long dead by now."

"Enough talk, let us tend to this woman now."
Tumnaooriel took charge, much to Culloth's surprise.

As the elf and Gondorian siblings stood guard, the beautiful woman, with a mysterious background, tended to the lady of Rohan.

[Ransom]

9-24-02

Ransom slowly opened his eyes. What memories he retained of his previous activities echoed throughout his head, greatly aggravating a pounding headache. He remembered the hours of fighting, followed by a precious few minutes of rest. Of course, this did not do much to explain his current situation.

He sat up and stretched. It felt good to move, despite the pain that flared as he stood. He took a few minutes to examine his surroundings. His cell was bare, save for the mattress of straw that he had woken on top of. The cellblock itself was shaped like a circle, with the cells lining the exterior. Ransom could not see any other occupants, and the room was dead silent. In the center of the room, their jailors had assembled a pile of gear, including Ransom’s armor and his sword.

Ransom smiled. Whoever his captors were, they did not know the history of his sword.

Ancalagon was aptly named. Forged by a powerful renegade dwarf, part of the great dragon’s spirit burned within the sword. In any instance, the sword would return to the owner who quenched its thirst for blood. Said sword owed Ransom a large boon.

Moving in front of the lock on his cell, he spoke softly to his sword. “Ancalagon, remember our bargain. Return to my grasp and I shall satisfy your lust for blood two times over.”

The sword, evidently, liked the bargain, slamming through the rough iron lock on the cell. Ransom smiled. Woe be to his captors.

[Carnëiach]

"Oh come, you thrice damned rope! Break already!"
Elanor muttered furiuously under her breath,cursing the rope, Calixto, his minions, gold, and the world in general. Her hands were sticky with blood and her sweat had run into the cuts, stinging them and doing nothing to improve her mood. The mortal had managed, with alot of trouble and not a little pain, to hitch the rope holding together the two gold bands over the bracket they had previously been tied to, twisted it around and was now rubbing furiously, apparently to no avail.
The human girl had no idea how long she had been at it, and was trying to cover the urge to cry from pain and frustration with curses. Whats more, with her hands tied in this fashion she could do nothing for Elwyn, lying sprawled on the floor, the blood which had trickled from her mouth already starting to congeal. Casting a worried glance at the elf and resumed her rubbing with renewed vigour.
"Come on Yavanna, Aule, Manwë...all you gods, i promise I will worship you forever if this bleeding rope will break. Come on, come on...yes!"
She let her breath out in a hiss as she felt the last few strands almost break. Pulling her hands away from the bracket, she snapped the last few fibres with great satisfaction. She slumped against the wall, eyes closed, breathing heavily as feeling flooded back into her finger. Not good. Now she could feel every, single, milimetre of shattered and chapped skin. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to concentrate, trying not to let her thoughts disappear into the void. task in hand...right...
"Ok Elwyn, for my all new, improved hands, you neeed to wake up...ah well, i never really liked my skin anyway." Quietly she stepped towards the prostrate elf and started work on waking her up as gently, but quickly as possible, praying that there were no guards outside.

[Elenna]

Elwyn groaned and coughed, sitting up slowly. "My head hurts... What in Varda's name happened? Where are the others?"

"I don't know - we've been captured, remember?"

"Not really."

"Calixto has captured us. Ransom too. I have just unbound my hands, but I don't know how we could possibly be rescued now."

Elwyn swore and stood upright. "Calixto? Now I remember. That filthy son of a..."

"Cursing won't help."

Elwyn sat down again, muttering to herself. It seemed like there was no way out of this situation. Unbidden the fair elven face of Harolas came into her mind. "And the last thing I ever did was slap him and shout at him. I wonder if I shall ever see him again."

[Nevtalathiel]

Something about the sight of blood stirred emotions deep within Tumnaooriel. She was at home with blood. "Once," she thought, "I was a healer." and with the thought came a realisation that she had left that life behind and now scarcely remembered it, save when she was actively reminded. It was true, she had been a nurse; caring for the sick and injured of the village in which she lived. Until the child had died. It had not been her fault, it wasn't the wounds, it had been something deeper, something over which she had no power, It had not been her fault!
Tumnaooriel was drawn back to the present and found that her breath was shaky and her fingers trembled.
"Water" she said brusquely in an attempt to overcome the lump in her throat.
"What do you know of this? I doubt you have even gone far enough from your home to have witnessed so much as a scraped knee!" Culloth barked.
"Do not question me now." Tumnaooriel replied surprising even herself with her boldness and the sharpness of her voice. "You know your trade I know mine When there is a battle, I will follow your instructions, but when someone is wounded you will let me care for them to the best of my ability. I am certian it is better than yours! I need water and any clean material which can be spared."
Ignoring Culloth's grumbles, Tumnaooriel knelt beside Gwyn and began to clean her wounds.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Gwyn moaned, her spirit desperate. There was a darkness in her mind, a shadow, a dark cloud threatening to engulf her and her companions. Tumnaooriel's calm voice was the only sound she heard in that fell blackness....

[Carnëiach]

Elanor felt in her sleeves to the straps that held her sais...
"Yes!" She hissed in relief as she felt the smooth metal under her fingers. The sharp, thin ends of the sais would make perfect lock picks.
"Elwyn, is your sword still there."
"No, but I saw one of the filthy guards with it, smugly tucked in his belt, son of a... well yeah anyway..." She faded off, taking a deep breath as she bit off the end of her curse. "Cursing wont help anyone." She muttered. Elanor smiled at her and crept towards the door. Looking out she was relived to see that guards everywhere were the same; theyd sneaked off to the barracks room no doubt, to play a game of dice.
"Well, I never thought Id be glad to see skivers!" Elwyn had joined her and the pair smiled at each other, enjoying the moment of light heartedness.
Slipping one of the fine points of her weapon into the lock she twisted around slightly for a moment, when the lock gave a small click. Smiling slyly the witch withdrew her weapon and laughed.
"Not even a double mechanism. A hobbit child could have found their way out of that one." She noted Elwyns surprised look and laughed. "Hey, Im not entirley useless without magic you know! After you." She swept an overdramatic bow and pulled open the door, wincing as it creaked on the rusty hinges.
"Now...barracks room..." They walked down the corridor, their feet echoing on the floor. Suddenly Elwyn stopped, her elven hearing picking something up, and pressed herself against the wall, with Elanor following her example, although she felt deaf without her magic heightened senses. Two guards swaggered past, laughing, obviously drunk, not noticing the pair in the shadows. When their footsteps had died off, the mortal witch smiled at her friend.
"A little more caution now maybe."
Elwyn wasnt fully listening. "When I find the idiot with my sword, the sword shall bleeding well find its way to the fools heart!" She muttered darkly.

[Ransom]

Ransom fastened the final clasp on his new suit of armor and marveled at his new find. His captors had taken his armor for booty, leaving Ransom in a bit of a jam. However, careful and painstaking searching of the pile of weapons had turned up two wonderful finds.

The first was his new armor. The plate mail was pitch black and almost seemed to meld in to the darkness. Flesh hooks, spikes, and blades protruded from the armor only increased the dark atmosphere. Skulls of various sizes covered elbows, shoulders, and knees. The armor even came with a scabbard for Ancalagon. And finally, the helm. It was in the shape of a skull, bleached white and black. Truly beautiful.

Meanwhile, Ancalagon had found a friend. The dark blade resembled halberd in many ways. The blade was about one and a half feet long and four and a half inches wide, shaped somewhat like a sharp butter knife. The pikestaff was a mere four and a half feet long and forged of the same metal as the armor. A large, upside-down obisdon skull capped the end of the haft. Truly a weapon to be proud of. Ransom took some time to examine the runes on the shaft. They glowed slightly red, mirroring the runes on his sword. Perhaps that crazy dwarf had made more than one weapon.

Ransom quietly walked to the door and raised the halberd over his head. The orcs in the guardroom were rudely awakened from their drunken sleep by the sound crash of the door as it fell to the ground. To call the next few minutes a battle would be a grave insult to martial warriors everywhere.

Ransom lifted the visor of the helm, surveying the destruction and the happy pulsing light his halberd emitted and smiled. Jailbreak.

[The Viking Thunder]

Harolas stood away from where Tumnaooriel tried healing Gwyn. He was not very comfortable around healers and leeches. Instead the young elf sat himself down and mended the wear and tear on his arrows. Bulvard and his ill tempered sister stood over the woman Tumnaooriel. Gwyn appeared to be recovering. There was no sign of Elanor, the witch or of the others. Harolas wasn't sure of which side the newcomer Ransom was on. There was also no sign of Elwyn.

Harolas caressed his cheek, where Elwyn had slapped him. He smiled to himself. She was definitely a maiden with a mind of her own. It would be a challenge to try and woo her. Back home in Mirkwood, wooing elven maidens was mere child's play for the handsome young elf prince. Yet this Elwyn was made of different, more arrogant stock. As he lost himself in his musings, his deft fingers quickly mended the damage his arrows had sustained during the battle.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor nearly lept out of her skin as a battlecry rang down the corridor. Her first instinct was to melt into the shadows, until an orc ran slapbang into Elwyn, such a hurry was he in to get away from whatever terror had given the fierce yell, knocking the witch into the wall. He staggerd backwards, but before he could fully recover Elanor hit him over the head, targeting his head with the thick gold on her wrist. He fell soundlessly to the floor.
"Right, lets go, cos I reeeally dont want to run into whatever chased this guy away-"
"Wait." Elwyn bent down, and drew the fine looking sword from the orcs belt. "Wait a minute...this is my bleeding sword! How dare he! May your soul be cursed as an eternal dung pile!" She looked at Elanor after this.
"Hmmm, orgional."
"Thanks. You fine with your toasting forks?"
"Toasting forks? I resent that! But yeah Im fine." She took a deep breath. "Are we going to explore whatevers down there?"
"I wouldnt miss it for the world." The elf grinned evily. "I want to congratulate whoev- well, whatever this thing is for getting my sword back."
"Oh. I feared you might say that." The girl smiled ruefully, then grinned back. "Well, me and my toasting forks are right behind you!"
They started running down the corridor towards the din, and threw open the guard room door, yelling in unison. A warrior, fearsomely clad in a terrifying array of darkness, stood amid the dead bodies of hte guards. He looked up, the helm flashing with malice.
"Well, that really warmed me up, whats next!" The dark warrior removed the skull helm and the pair were faced with...
"Ransom!"
The witch smiled with relief, and Ransom walked towards them.
"Well, he said it; whos next!" Elwyn grinned.

[Ransom]

Ransom’s visor dropped with a clink. Someone or something was coming. His polearm, which he had named Ancalagon’s Claw in a brief moment of literary genius, had taken its portion of souls. The armor had proved extremely useful when an orc tried to tackle him only to be killed by one of the blades that extended from his arms. He crouched, ready to pounce on whatever hapless creature that appeared.

One woman, wielding two weapons resembling toasting forks, shouting a loud battle cry. Her companion, a tall elf with long read hair, spouted a unbroken string of curses. He drew back his weapon, preparing to unleash a powerful blow and end the battle before noticing the identity of the foul-mouthed elf. Elwyn!

“Well, these orcs merely warmed me up! What’s next?”

Ransom stood upright and lifted his helm, grinning somewhat sheepishly. Elwyn recognized him first and lowered her sword. “Ransom!”

Elanor appeared slightly confused for a moment before she remembered him. Before this unexpected meeting, she had only seen him in a dark forest with only a minute amount of illumination. Elwyn seemed to briefly consider hugging him before noticing the many sharp implements that covered the armor. Instead, she walked over and made a few tentative pokes at a flesh hook. “My, my you’ve certainly gotten new toys.”

Ransom let the visor fall with a click. “I’ve just broken out of their sad excuse for a prison, and I assume that you too know more about our present situation. What’s going on?”

[Elenna]

"What do you think is going on? A jailbreak!" Elwyn laughed as she tested the edge on her sword. "We are getting out of this disgusting gaol and finding our companions again."

A harsh cry echoed from down the hall, and the stomping of hobnailed boots could be heard coming towards them. "And did I mention we kill any of Calixto's cronies that get in our way?"

She smiled fiercely, and that same grin was replicated on the faces of her companions as they readied themselves for the evil onslaught.

[Ransom]

Arrows began to skitter into the guardroom, forcing the three former convicts to take cover. Ransom flinched slightly as arrow grazed his shoulder and dove behind an upturned table. His companions declined to share his cover. After all, neither woman desired to be impaled upon his armor.

The frequency of the shots became quicker, and the pounding of boots came closer. The first orc burst through the door and stopped, apparently thinking that the guard post was abandoned. Said orc’s world burst into pain as the table skittered across the floor and knocked the legs from under him. The last thing he saw was Ransom as he pushed a blade through the unlucky orc’s throat.

Two more orcs charged through the entrance, only to be eviscerated in a single swing by Ancalagon’s Claw. Ransom hastily retreated from another volley of shots, most of which bounced of his new armor. Elwyn and Elanor took up positions near the door as they waited for another wave of enemies.

They did not have to wait long. A dozen large orcs burst into the room, pressing the defenders backwards. Ransom parried a sword before he brought his pole arm crashing down on the orc’s head. This was going to be nasty.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor gritted her teeth and readied herself for the battle. Something was being rammed against the door. Only a couple of seconds...
"Diiiiiiiiie!" Ransoms yell was accompanied by a crash as the door gave up and gave way to a dozen orcs. Briefly Elanor smiled at the fersome warrior. Under the mass of metal, she was already taking a liking to him-
Instinctively she ducked and rammed one sai into her assailants stomach. Woah, that orc could take people out with his breath alone...
Another came at her from the side. Weaving the flashing golden weapons from side to side in an intricate pattern, she distracted the orc before ducking down and sweeping her feet under him, knocking his legs out. Elwyn caught him on her sword on the way down.
Blades flashing intuitively, the witch started to work her way towards Ransom, whom the orcs were attacking en masse. How has Calixto got control of orcs? The thought barely had time to develop before a pain in her arm distracted her as an arrow grazed her skin. Cursing she cast off her cloak, sending it into an orcs face. Said orc thrashed wildly before Ransom put it out of its misery. She smiled at him, retreiving her cloak and the pair of the took cover from the onslaught of arrows. Elenna soon threw herself beside them, ignoring the shallow cuts where she had been hurt, seething with rage.
"These are not orcish arrows; they are elven, without a doubt! Something is going on here and someones gonna pay!" The elf muttered thrusting an arrow towards Elanor.
"Are the archers elivsh then?"
"I do not know; at least one of them is more human than the others-why?"
"I need to get one- these gold bands are driving me insane and i can do waay more damage without them!"
"Lady, twould be a pleasure. 'Scuse me while I risk life an limb to bring you this present." With an small bow, Ransom took of towards the archers.
"Ransom! Come back here now, you idiot!" Elwyn yelled.
"Im afraid Im going to have to join him in being an idiot Elwyn- Im getting into this and even such a fiersome warrior as him needs help." Elanor took off after him, using a collection of dropped and discarded daggers as throwing knives as she went after Ransom. Elwyn stared at her for a moment, before shrugging and throwing herself after the pair towards the hapless and decreasing number of archers...

[Ransom]

Ransom pounded down the dark, narrow corridor toward the archers, his now expanded bulk absorbing most of the arrows. He could clearly see the races of the archers now. Slightly more than half were orcs, while the remainders were scruffy-looking humans. Their captain, arrayed in black mail, was an elf. This was certainly unusual.

Instead of retreating and running, like Ransom had expected, the orcs began to drop their bows and pile onto their attackers, as if seeking to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. Ransom backhanded an orc, knocking it backwards, before clubbing another one with the butt of his pole arm. He did not use the weapon to its full extent for fear of injuring his allies. On the other hand, his armor was working perfectly. Any orc who tried to tackle this demonic menace quickly retreated from the seemingly omnipresent spikes.

By now, most of the orcs had been slain. The humans had dropped their bows in exchange for long swords and shields while the elf urged them forwards. Ransom stepped backwards and brought Ancalagon’s Claw up in preparation for this new onslaught.

[Carnëiach]

The eight or nine archers facing the trio were very unusual, especially the captain. Once again the nagging sensation in the back of her mind was questioning this.
How has Calixto naturally got hold of orcs, and managed to put them under the command of an elf?
Elanor didnt have time for the voice though, as the orcs and humans threw down their bows and threw themselves at Ransom as one body. The elf stood back, bow still in hand, and slowly began to creep away. The elf was not wearing any armour except the half head helmet...with the precision of one practised in small weapons she flung a throwing knife, making sure it caught the back of the elfs leg, deep enough to stop the elf in its tracks. Elanor could still not see whether this unusual enemy was male or female because of the helmet, and she ran towards her victim. Elwyn was attacking the orcs and humans who had leapt on Ransom, only one or two of whom had not been dealt with or run away.
Reaching the elf, the witch hit the figure on the side of the helmet, knocking her/him sideways onto the floor. Moving swiftly, despite lacking her enhanced skills and pressed a dagger across its throat. With her free hand she removed the helmet and saw the elf underneath was, to Elanors surprise, a woman, her face twisted in pain and rage. Her dark hair flooded out of the helmet and her face was pale with pain. After a moments shock, Elanor reached down and without taking her eyes from the woman, she pulled the dagger from the womans leg, as softly as she could in the circumstances.
"Get off me human. I can kill you in an instant." The womans voice would have been menacing was she not gasping, and choking against the dagger.
"Not pinned like this you cant. Now, for your life I have a small favour to ask- I mean, that you will grant. And a few questions." Elanor kept up her hard front, although she was quailing from this ruthlessness now the adrenaline was wearing away.
Behind her Ransom approached, on hand on Elwyns arm. They had seen of the rest of their enemies and Elwyn at least was bleeding in a dozen places, but her anger flared once again as she saw one of her own kind was in charge of thec creatures they had killed.
"Why you...How dare you, an elf, command such vile troops? How can you even declare yourself an elf? An orc you are, an orc!" She spat comptemtiously.
"Vile as she may be, she will get these accursed bands off my wrists."
"And then she shall have our questions to answer." Growled Ransom. The elf woman tried to hide her flinch as she caught sight of the tall, fiersome spiked creature that was Ransom as he hauled her to her feet, hands firmly behind her.

[Elenna]

"Now, woman, you will answer my questions." Elwyn growled as she broke free of Ransom's hold. "Why are YOU here? Why are we being held? Why are the orcs following you? And how can we get out of here?"

The dark haired woman narrowed her eyes and did not answer. Then she gasped as Elwyn held a sword to her white neck. "Perhaps you didn't hear me!" she snarled. Then grasping the woman by the collar of her cloak, she slammed her against the wall.

Ransom and Elanor stood back in shock. Why was Elwyn acting this way?

OOC: Oh, you'll find out. Mwah ha ha ha.

[ October 01, 2002: Message edited by: Elenna ]

[Ransom]

Ransom watched with no small amount of amusement as Elwyn faced off against the unknown elf. Of course there were much more efficient and painful methods of extracting information than holding a sword to the neck. Much more painful methods.

Indeed, he had used many. Especially on any orcs that were unlucky enough to stumble upon him when he had spare time. The right tool in the right place could accomplish much. Ransom, much to his friends’ discomfort, seemed to enjoy torturing his enemies.

Ransom shook his head. The last thing he needed was to loose himself in his past. Indeed, long years of experience with his sister informed him that Elwyn was about to blow her top. He slowly walked behind Elwyn and listened....

[ October 01, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Elanor flinched as Elwyn slammed the other elf into the wall. She started yelling at her, sword blade still pressed against her throat. The witch was surprised to say the least but when she looked at Ransom she was actually quite scared; his expression was one of enjoyment an amusement. Elanor wondered about this mysterious man and his fiercesome armour.
"Why are we here? Why are you here? How dare you!" Once again Elwyn slammed the elf back against the wall, lifting her slightly off te ground in her rage, her hands trembling with anger. It was only as a thin line of blood started to appear on the elfs neck that Elanor wa jerked into action out of sheer self preservation.
"Elwyn!" She walked up so she was right behind her friend. "Please. I do not know especially what this...creature has done to you, but for the moment I need her."
"No!" Elwyns voice was steely, such as Elanor had never heard her speak like. "No one needs her- ever! Exept to torment her and send her to the void with Mandos!"
"Just for now. Then you can have her. Please, Elwyn, dont act like this." A pleading note was creeping into Elanors voice and it seemed to bring the elf warrior back to reality. She looked at the witch for a moment before letting go of the elf so that she slumped to the floor. Elanor crouched beside the elf and whispered, "You will remove these bands from my wrists. And do not think I am really doing you any favours- she will have you back by the end."
The strange woman looked up at Elanor, her face still twisted with hate, her hand on her throat. She nodded briefly and got up. Elwyn and Ransom dived for her, Ransoms face eager, but Elanor grabbed her first. She twisted her arm behin her back, just hard enough to hurt and pressed her onwards.

Soon they reached the blacksmiths forge. It was neglected but was near to the armoury and guard room, and was unattended. Ransom got a chisel and a hammer from the workbench, but the chisel was blunt.
"Sorry Elanor, were going to have to use a sword."
Elanor tried to contain her panic. Ransom ordered the elf to stand at the end of the room, where Ransom kept an eye on her.
Placing one wrist on the anvil Elanor took a deep breath. "Go on Elwyn. Please dont miss."

[Elenna]

Elwyn took a deep breath and raised her sword high over her head. Muttering a prayer to Varda, she brought the blade down, severing the gold band around Elanor's wrist, but not touching the skin underneath. Nearly fainting with relief, Elanor placed her other wrist upon the anvil. As Elwyn sent her sword slicing through the other band, the elf that Ransom held in his iron grasp let out a shriek that could have woken the dead.

Ransom quickly covered her mouth, but it was no use. Surely someone had heard her.

Elwyn stood up. Walking quickly over to the dark-haired elf, she smiled sweetly. Ransom and Elanor stared at her - where were the curses? But Elwyn continued to smile.

"Oh, so you've called your little friends, I see. But now that we have Elanor's bonds off, we can deal with them. And when we've gotten out of this hell-pit, I promise I will deal with you."

[Ransom]

Ransom had been slightly confused by the fuss over Elanor’s golden bands. In addition to being cumbersome and heavy, they did greatly increase the chance the Elanor would be spotted. Somehow he had passed it off as one of the quirks of their captors, on the level of leaving an obviously useful suit of armor lying around a prison.

But now, his suspicions were confirmed. Long had the Inquisition sought a substance that would bind a witch’s power. After many failures, they had discovered that gold dampened the power that a witch could expel into their surroundings. This information had been kept secret, to the point that the Inquisition covered golden bonds in a layer of iron. How had their captors obtained this knowledge? And furthermore, could this witch read his mind? How powerful was she? He would have to be careful. It would not do for anyone to discover his past. Not here. Not now.

The cursed elf’s repeated attempts to escape were beginning to annoy him. In addition to summoning their enemies, her repeated attempts to kick him were beginning to grow tiresome. He did not understand the nature of Elwyn’s quarrel with the elf, save that it would be far better for him to stay out of it. But this was one of his sworn enemies, one of the Heretics. Ransom briefly contemplated ending the elf’s misery with one quick snap of her neck. But the look on Elwyn’s face spoke to him in more ways than one. Perhaps she would be so kind as to allow him to administer the blow of absolution.

“Ladies, if our buisness is taken care of, I believe that we are outnumbered. We must make plans for our flight or our defense. But first, let us decide how to take care of this heretic?”

[Carnëiach]

As the sword came searing down the second time Elanors heart jumped again, then just as the relief set in, the barrier holding her powers away broke down. Her head felt like it would split with pain and she grasped her temples. She felt every enhanced feeling and strength flood back and the thoughts of those around her only ffeatured in the background. Everything. Gritting her teeth against the pain Elanor closed her eyes for a few minutes ferverently hoping the pain would subside. After a moment she opened her eyes to see Ransom holding the gold bands, turning them slowly around, a thoughtful look on his face. She couldnt attune to his thoughts this quickly but she felt a sinking feeling.
"So these can harness your magic?" He said slowly.
"Take it away temporarily." She said, guarded.
"But if tuned, they could harness it."
"I..I dont know Ransom. Why does it matter?"
"Oh no reason, i suppose. Just...wondering." He slipped the bands into a space in his armour, much to Elanors worry, before standing.
“Ladies, if our buisness is taken care of, I believe that we are outnumbered. We must make plans for our flight or our defense. But first, let us decide how to take care of this heretic?”
At this the elf in the corner looked even more frantic and opened her mouth to give yell again. Elwyn started towards her but Elanor flexed her fingers.
"Let me." She made an irritated motion, flicking her hand at the elf. The elfs mouth shut immediately. Elanor smiled slightly then turned back to the othet two.
"Nice." Said Elenna.
"Thankyou."
"Anyhow, didnt you think that we might need her? Password and such?"
"We have magic. An an elven warrior. And Ransom and his armour."
"O-kay...but maybe we should keep her until we get to Calixto. Hostage?"
"Ah, I see." Ransom smiled, his face cruel. "So we couod deliver in less than perfect condition."
"I...whatever makes you happy Ransom." Elanor gave up. "Elwyn; can you remember how to get to Calixtos hall?"

[Elenna]

Elwyn stood silent for a moment, deep in thought. "Yes. I believe it was that way." She pointed to the right, down a dark passage.

The captive elf struggled against Ransom, who apparently had no pity for her plight.

Just as well, Elwyn thought to herself. She had no pity for those two little boys, nor for the village that she burned to the ground...

[Ransom]

Ransom didn’t like the situation. This Calixto, besides being an abomination in serious need of absolution, seemed to be quite a shrewd operator. Surely he would have some sort of bodyguard around him. And, no matter the magic that Elanor possessed, Calixto surely would have developed a method to nullify her power. On the other hand, he would surely be expecting his former prisoners to make an attempt to escape. Perhaps purging this menace would be the safest path.

The female elf was beginning to struggle again, and Ransom was rapidly losing his temper. He bent down until his helmet was near her ear before whispering, “I consider myself honorable. Let us make an agreement. Stay still and I shall not hurt your accursed body. Move, and I shall hand you to the redheaded elf.”

Much to his satisfaction, the evil elf tried once again to struggle. Ransom quickly applied pressure to her jugular vein, cutting off blood flow to her brain. She struggled for a moment before falling unconscious.

“Now that she is taken care of, let us be on our way.”

[Cimmerian]

A tall thin elf, fair and cold, scanned the storm that raged on in the prison courtyard with dark, soulless eyes. A dry smile curled on his thin, lifeless lips, he turned to face his companions who sat around him in the dimly lit room, sipping wine from earthen goblets., their eyes fixated on the window of visions that Aravalenon’s dark sorcery provided.

Aravalenon cast his baleful gaze upon them, his lean cheeked face darkened and his black eyes became obsidian. With a smile on his thin lips, that did not extend to his eyes, he said, "The fools can go on fighting my illusionary warriors until the ends of time. I have what I need."

"Lord Aravalenon," said Nashburz, large and square of face and body, the muscular uruk leader of the black army assembled, continued, "I do not like this… this sorcery. I'd rather face my foes in armed combat."

”All in time, my trusted ally.” Replied Aravalenon, his dark eyes gleaming. “Now it is time that I take on the guise of Calixto once more. And lead the lost souls to their redemption.”


Mumbling a few dark spells, Aravalenon’s appearance changed to that of which he had used to mislead the group of warriors to aid him in his quest of the fabled Crimson Sword. One, which was already in his possession and gave him such immense power.

Once in the guise of a brutally battered Calixto, the evil elven wizard cast a spell to teleport himself in the whereabouts of the lost warriors led by Bulvard. They would make a fine force in his army and his quest to rule all the lands in Sauron’s name.

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard was amazed at the way Tumnaooriel took charge. She seemed so much different now. No more did she cower in fear and reach out for protection. Instead, she moved with rare self-assurance, something, which he had not seen in her since the time they had first met. Gwyn appeared to be recovering rapidly.

Harolas and Tumnaooriel helped the lady of Rohan to her feet and walk a few steps. There was no sign of their horses; they had to follow the rest of the trail on foot. As the party trudged onward, a sudden rustling in the bushes ahead startled them. Bulvard drew his sword in a flash, followed by Culloth. Harolas had already drawn his bow and nocked an arrow. Tumnaooriel held onto Gwyn by herself as the Lady of Rohan weakly tried to reach for hr sword.

Then suddenly an elf, his fine robes and armour a tattered mess, stumbled out of the undergrowth and collapsed in front of the wary travelers.

“Calixto!” Harolas, Tumnaooriel and Bulvard shouted in unision.

“Help… me…,” the elf lord whispered hoarsely.

[Nevtalathiel]

Again Tumnaooriel felt the urge to protect and heal as she saw Calixto suddenly fall in front of the group and again, she took charge, although this time without complaint from the others, most notably Culloth. This time it took only seconds for water and makeshift bandages to be produced and Tumnaooriel carefully took a strip of damp cloth with which to clean Calixto's numerous wounds. The others waited intently to discover the fate of their former leader, save only Culloth, who paced the area grumbling to herself.

Looking down at the extent of the wounds, Tumnaooriel's hand trembled, never before had she seen such dreadful wounds on one who had survived. Involutarily, a sob escaped her lips and her hand jolted. The fingers which had been holding the now blood soaked cloth brushed against Claixto's skin and a low moan passed his lips, but Tumnaooriel did not hear it. As soon as her skin touched Calixto's flesh, a memory of a feeling flashed through her. It was a memory which had been burned into the deepest parts of her soul.

The child lay there, so pale against the crimson sheets. The wounds were dressed, but would not stop bleeding and every minute the stain spread. Perspiration mixed with blood to soak the pillow, despite Tumnaooriel's constant attention. It was not her fault. There was nothing she could do, but they wouldn't listen. It wasn't the wounds which were killing the child, it was something else, something which stopped her healing, somethinng evil which had got hold of her and would not let go, something which scared Tumnaooriel more than she had ever known.

"There's nothing I can do for him." Tumnaooriel gasped, feeling tears rise before her eyes. "I've felt this before and there's nothing I can do." She turned, sobbing, from Calixto's fallen body and became once more the timid fearful creature she had been since the child had died.

[Ransom]

Ransom motioned for Elwyn and Elanor to stop. Something was not right. They had been walking for nearly an hour with no end in sight. The orcs they had met seemed to be far more interested in killing their target than their own safety. This ran counter to all of his experience. Orcs were far more interested in saving their own skin than continuing a failed assault. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

That cursed elf began to struggle again. Ransom groaned inwardly before stopping. “Ladies, mayhap we could rest for a few minutes? This burden appears to be showing signs of life, and my arms are rather tired of dragging her. Perhaps we should think of a better plan for transporting this heretic.”

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard found himself drawn towards Tumnaooriel once more, overwhelmed with the desire to protect her. The large warrior looked away from the battered form of Calixto and put his arm around the sobbing woman. She shuddered and held on to him like a helpless child, even as she did Bulvard caught a fleeting glimpse of a smile curl Calixto’s pale lips. Only a fleeting glimpse. He shook his head.

Calixto didn’t seem mortally wounded, just tired and weary. Why did Tumnaooriel say she couldn’t save him. What did she feel when she touched him. Bulvard’s thoughts raced in spells of pity and suspicion that fought to gain a foothold in his mind. He stood silently with Tumnaooriel sobbing against him as Culloth and Harolas inspected the fallen Calixto.

“It is necessary to save him,” Harolas mumbled.

“I agree with the elf,” spat Culloth, “You. Get away from Bulvard and do your best to revive him, it’s the least you could do to be of some use in this journey.”

Bulvard stared grimly ahead, his protective hold on Tumnaooriel ever tighter.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” said Gwyn, “She has done her best, which is more than I can say for you.”

“And what does that suppose to mean?” Culloth barked, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“You have the sense to ascertain what I mean, or do you not?” Gwyn responded in kind.

“Lady of Rohan, you will keep a civil tongue…” Culloth growled.

“Enough!” Bulvard’s voice boomed, “Calixto lies there, possibly dying and you can do nothing save find each other’s faults.”

“Nay, not dying… not just yet,” gasped Calixto, his eyelids fluttering.

Harolas and Culloth rushed over to help the elf lord to his feet. Tumnaooriel turned around in disbelief as the elf lord struggled to speak.

“Listen to me… there is great evil, and it has trapped our fair comrades over yonder.”
Calixto pointed south. “They also have the Crimson sword.”

“Then we must go there.” Bulvard said grimly.

“Yes, make haste.” Calixto croaked.

“But, Bulvard… Calixto is not…” Tumnaooriel whispered, her eyes wide with fear. But Bulvard’s grey eyes were cold and hard.

[Nevtalathiel]

"Please Bulvard," Tumnaooriel mumbled, trying to dry her eyes on the sleeve of her dress, "it is not safe, there is nothing any of us can do, nothing." Again the image of the child flashed before her eyes. So young, so pale, he had mumbled in his sleep, if sleep it could be called.

"There is nothing I can do for Calixto, there is no cure. We should leave this place as soon as possible and get as far away a we can. Please, Bulvard, I beg you, do not take us nearer to this evil."

[Elenna]

Elanor, Ransom, and Elwyn took turns keeping watch and holding the prisoner, while the other two slept. Elwyn had tied the witch's wrists and ankles together with strips cut from her green tunic, and gagged her with another, but the woman still struggled wildly.

As Ransom and Elanor slept, Elwyn began to whisper to the witch. "Well, Mithwyn, it's been some time since we have met. And I have not missed you. You remember what I swore I would do to you that day, the day you burned the village? That oath has never been broken..."

Mithwyn writhed in her bondage, remembering well. Her limbs shook with fear at the memory.

[Ransom]

Ransom slept fitfully, his mind drifting in and out of consciousness. Memories long gone played before his eyes, interspaced with the holy litanies of the Inquisition

Pain through Duty.
Duty through Pain.

The woman struggled against the golden bonds, glaring hatefully at her captor. She would have spit, if not for the gag covering her mouth. Ransom looked at her, a mass of emotions twisting inside him. This thing had killed half a dozen people. Including his father. He walked in a slow circle around her before stopping by her right hand. In one quick motion, the joints in her little finger was pulled out of alignment. He watched her eyes go wide with pain before he began the Litany of Absolution. “Your body is weak. Your limbs are heavy. Your soul will be saved, even if it costs you your life.”

Strike fast. Strike hard. Strike suddenly.
But remember always that your failure will lead to the deaths of other.
Those which the Valar have entrusted to you.

He reread the words on the scroll. The a band of orcs lead by a heretic had sacked the temple-town of Saharion, slaughtering and enslaving the townspeople. Of the Order of Nienna, there was no word. He felt a hot tear run down his cheek. His sister had been there.

May Mandos watch over you in the hour of your passing.
May the Feanturi take your soul to the One.
May Nienna comfort you in your passing.

She looked as peaceful in death as in life. Her mortal body had been scarred and crushed, but her face was still peaceful. Ransom laid her upon the pyre before removing his glove. High Inquisitor Cross lifted the hand and made three small incisions in his arm, one for each Valar involved in the Passing. The blood fell freely upon her body, as Cross lay his torch on the fragrant oils that soaked the wood.

Your duty as an Inquisitor and as a person is to the One himself.
Everything else is dust and ashes.

He awoke with a start and grabbed for his sword before stopping. No one had attacked them. Almost everything was quite. He could hear Elwyn speaking softly to the captive.

"Well, Mithwyn, it's been some time since we have met. And I have not missed you. You remember what I swore I would do to you that day, the day you burned the village? That oath has never been broken..."

So the abomination had a name. Mithwyn. He was sure that would come in useful at some point in time. But Elwyn would wake him up when it was his turn to keep watch, and so he drifted back to sleep.

[ October 05, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Elanors eyes flicked open in the darkness as Ransom moved in his sleep beside her, his sword hilt digging into her back. Elenna was whispering nearby, speaking Elanor presumed to the other elf. She couldnt make out the words but decided to intefere before Elenna destroyed the woman and rendered her useless.
"Elwyn..." She murmered, so as not to disturb Ransom. She sat up and saw, not to her great surprise, that Elwyns dagger was being moved slowly in front of the elfs eye, its gleam catching what little light there was. Elwyn was obviously about to strike but the witch moved towards her. The elven warrior turned towards her, a wicked glint in her eyes.
"Dont restrain me Elanor. She deserves what I promised her, and she knows it."
"I will not restrain you. I simply seek knowledge from her."
"Do not ungag her, she will cry for help, cowardly and unworthy-"
"I seek it from her mind." Elwyn seemed to think about this then smiled and turned to the other elf.
"See Mithwyn, this human is more than she seems. She will render your mind in two before I do the same to your body!" She hissed but Elanor had already put her forehead to the elfs. Taking a deep breath she let herself into the others mind...

The little boys cried for mercy but she still pressed onwards, questioning them about the defences of the village. The pair cried with pain; they were young, little more than infants and the dagger cuts marked their faces and bodies.
"The elves; the elves of mirkwood. Do any of them live there. Answer me!" She snapped, bringing her face withing centimetres of the younger boys face. He whimpered in terror, but nodded slowly, unable to speak, blood mingling with tears down his cheeks. In a swift movement she cut his throat. The other gasped and she turned to him.
"Do not worry little one." She crooned. "I shall not dispose of you so quickly. No, your death shall be far more dargged out." As If to emphasize this, Mithwyn dragged her long nails across one of his cheeks, drawing blood. "How would you like to see a really big bonfire up close. Really close!

Elanor pulled her mind out, reeling backwards. She felt every inch of pain on the boys body, his terror and hopelessness. Worse, intermingled with it she felt the cold cruel satisfaction of Mithwyn. This was as strong as Bulvards memories, whcih had sent her into unconciousness, so she pulled out quickly, gasping. Elwyns face swam into view.
"Did you see it? What she did to the boys? And the village?" The elf asked darkly.
Elanor nodded slowly. "I saw what she did to the boys. Believe me, i would follow up what you wish to do to her. But indeed later, I believe she will be repaid for her deeds in far greater pain. Do not destroy her. Yet." The witch muttered a word and with a spin of her fingers sent the elf into uneasy, unnatural sleep.
taking out her scrying crystal she spun it between her fingers, the many sides playing with what little light was afforded to the dark corridor.
“Help… me…,"
A familiar figure lay on the grass in front of Culloth, Gwyn, Tumnaooriel and Bulvard. Relief flooded through the witches mind, but she didnt let it cloud the crystal. There was something about that bloodstained figure, lying between the swirling warning patterns of deceit in the crystal. Forcing the vision closer she saw it. Calixto.
In the crystal she saw Tumnaooriel flinch away from him as if burnt and she looked up, disturbed, so that she seemed to make eye contact with Elanor. She knew something wasnt right. The others didnt.
Elanor stod quickly.
"We must press on. Now. Quickly. Something here is very very wrong..."

[Ransom]

Ransom shifted his armored body slightly, trying to capture a final moment of rest. Bright lights played across his eyelids, finally dispelling any last vestige of sleep. He stood and stretched, observing with some interest Elanor placing her scrying crystals into a small pocketbag while she talked to Elwyn. Scrying crystals were by no means rare, but the actual skill of using one was rare.

He knelt back down and bowed his head, quietly speaking the Litany of Preparation.

May the Valar turn their faces to their servants.
May they head our prayers.
May the One bless us through the day.
May Mandos protect our soul.
May Lorien guard our dreams.
May Nienna comfort us.
May Vaire guide our fate.
May the Valar guard us through the day.

Rising to his feet, he began to sheath his sword before he remembered his dreams. They had been clearer than ever before. Ransom glanced at the witch through his helm. One friendly witch, after spending one night below his quarters, had informed him that he projected his dreams like a shouting madman. Had her magic affected his memories? Most of all, had she discovered or overheard anything?

[ October 06, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Carnëiach]

Ransom muttered something, a poem of some kind, beautiful and solemn. The witch turned and listened quietly as she put away the crystal she heard the last few lines.
May Nienna comfort us.
May Vaire guide our fate.
May the Valar guard us through the day.
Elanor remembered when he had been speaking to himself when he slept, the words he had said, the way he had obviously been intoning something to someone about to die. The words had sent shivers up her back.
"That was beautiful Ransom. As were the words of your dream." She murmered. He looked at her oddly, a strange look on his face.
"Well, Im surprised but glad you think so Lady." His voice said that he was far more surprised than he said.
Elwyn dragged the other elf to her feet, not caring how rough she was it seemed. Why does she bear such a specially personal hate against this elf, one of her own kind? Something deeper than the boys...
"Do you insist that we bring her along?" Ransom asked irritably, interupting Elanors pensive thoughts. "I am growing sick of dragging her along. Her legs work. For now." He added quietly.
With a flick of her hand a few sparks of magefire shot out of the witches fingertips, igniting the fabric tying and gagging Mithwyn. Flexing her fingers she muttered the ancient words of control while staring the renegade elf in the eye. With a swift encircling motion with her palms, the spell was complete. AS if pulled up by strings like a puppet, the elf dangled as if she had no life of her own. Elanor sighed regretfully- she hated using controlling spells; they seemed immoral. She turned to the other two.
"She will follow us. But Calxtos plans have deepened further..." She explained her vision to the pair and they pressed on.

[Ransom]

Ransom ducked and gripped his poleax in both hands as magefire shot from Elanor’s hand. He had been on the receiving end of magefire far too many times for comfort, and he did not intend to be caught unprepared. But Elanor’s aim was true, and Mithwyn’s cloth gag disappeared into a cloud of multicolor smoke. He noticed that she had begun to chant, and recognized the mantra of control. Mental avenues to his head slammed shut in an instance, a skill honed to perfection by the Inquisition’s resident witch. He could still remember the headaches he defenses failed to her subtle and not-so-subtle spells.

Truly, Elanor’s casting skills were excellent. Mithwyn’s mind seemed to offer no resistance, and what could be best described as a bitter mental aftertaste splashed against his will.

================================================== =======

Perhaps this Calixto was the elvish heretic I heard about. Ransom mused, But at this rate we’ll be long dead before we reach him

They had walked for many hours, fighting off an almost endless stream of seemingly mindless orcs. Ransom was beginning to grow hungry and thirsty. Truly a flaw of the body, but the body was the divine gift of the One. Perhaps now was the time to think of another plan.

“Ladies, I do believe something here is not right. Our enemies are numberless and almost mindless, and the halls are just as numberless. We seem to be going in circles. Perhaps we should reconsider our current course, and seek another way to our goal?"

[ October 08, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Cimmerian]

“Foolish coward,” Culloth shouted, roughly shoving at Tumnaooriel, “It is to get rid of this evil must be go further into it.”

“She is right, Tumnaooriel,” agreed Harolas, tough in a much kinder manner, “Come quickly, Bulvard. Elwyn and the others must be rescued.”

“Aye,” said the tall, white-haired warrior, “But we must be wary, I fear Tumnaooriel may be right about this.”

“About what?” sneered Calixto, “Who is she to have doubts on our mission? I did not approve of her services to our cause.”

“What ever her fears be, I will heed them,“ replied Bulvard coldly, “Tumnaooriel is with me, and so she shall remain.”

Calixto turned away, now seemingly recovered from his injuries. “Come hither. Follow me.”

The party of six swiftly made their way in the direction Tumnaooriel had warned against.

[Elenna]

Elwyn walked next to Mithwyn, prodding her forward when she paused. It made her nervous, not knowing where she was going or what she would meet.

As she walked, she found herself talking to Mithwyn almost as she used to. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? I joined the guard of Rafflensher, did you know? No, I suppose you didn't."

Mithwyn turned to the red haired elf next to her, unspeaking. In her eyes was a depth of sadness and anger that was so intense, it made the room seem colder. To cover up her awkwardness and remorse, she strode forward to where Ransom stood. "Where are we going?" she asked, knowing full well that he didn't know.

[Carnëiach]

Elanor was frustrated and footsore. All the corridors looked the same and for all she knew, this one was the same one they passed through 2 hours ago! FRom Ransoms face she saw he felt the same. He grinned ruefully at her though; he had taken his helmet off a while back when he realised the orcs they fought had no tactics, mindless in fact they seemed and his face underneath was tanned and quite young, but not youthful. A hardness was in his eyes and it brought Elanors mind back to the first thought she had picked up from him after his questions; the Inquistition.
Shivers ran up her spine; she had heard tales of what the Inquistition did to witches. Yet the handsome young warrior seemes to respect her powers, although he had seemed a little uncomfortable when she used magefire. She was glad he was friendly, as a witch at the hands of an inquistitor was often not treated well...
Elwyn walked up to her, business like, although she was hiding other feelings. Her behaviour towards Mithwyn had changed in strange ways from such violent hostility to almost kindness. What was the link there?
"Elanor, could you try scrying again, to try and get a clue of how to find Calixto?"
The witch sighed. "I can try." Pulling out the crystal she started spinning it, although she didnt immediatly look for what the elf had requested. It couldnt hurt to see their friends again, to see Bulards face...she shook herself. That was not why she was looking. She just wanted to see if he- no, if they were OK.

"Tumnaooriel is with me."

Immediatly Elanor jerked back at the words, breaking the vision. Bulvard had said that. About Tumna. No, why should it matter? She didnt care what he said about anyone, as long as they were ok.
Oh really? You feel nothing for him? That nasty nagging voice again. Taking a deep breath Elanor pushed it out of her mind. Just concentrate on where we are...and where Calixto is, whatever he is...

[Ransom]

“Where are we going?”

Ransom had been watching the intricate crystal Elanor was staring into, amused and a bit bemused. He personally only knew one other person who could scry with any accuracy, and she had died two winters ago of old age.

Elwyn’s approach had been unnoticed, though her question was not. He smiled warmly and shook his head to clear his mind before turning to face her.

“Where are we going? Our bodies will return to the earth from whence it came, and our souls shall journey to the Blessed Lands. But I suppose that’s not the answer you’re looking for. In truth, I have not a clue.”

[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Elenna]

Despite herself, Elwyn smiled. "I had hoped for a more concrete answer, friend Ransom, but that'll do for now."

Ransom turned to her. "What has passed between you and this Mithwyn? What has she done to you that makes you hate her so?"

Elwyn's smile vanished. "She has done nothing to me. It is what she has done to others that makes me hate her. It was not always so..."

[Carnëiach]

Elanor stared into the crystal, her eyes taking on a silver glaze as she tried to work her way through the- what? castle, fortress, palace? She didnt even know what their prison was, apart from the fact that it had so much magic woven around it that her Othersight was having trouble even keeping control of herself, let alone steer her mind.
She wove through corridor after gloomy corridor, finding the occasional cell like room- apparently whoever made this place didnt believe in comfort for their soldiers, yet she could see no orcs or other enemies at all. She found herself drawn onwards however, into a very different part of the fortress however, emerging into a roomy courtyard. She continued cautiously until she found herself in another room, where orcs and men were gathered in meeting around another figure. He was lightly built, but no one would have said he was scrawny, for her emanated such power and arrogance and danger from his wiry elven form that back at her body, Elanors breath was taken away. She felt the thoughts and emotions of those in the room, yet from him...nothing. It terrified her as the void had. He looked up and his eyes were night itself- an iris and white didnt even come into the equasion, his eyes were black all over. He looked sharply around and Elanor quickly shot up her defences, sheltering herself from other minds. Yet he still looked at the air where her conciousness hung, and although the witch knew she couldnt be seen or felt, she held her breath. Eventually he looked down to his commanders again and Elanor felt she had been released.
He knows...he knows you are out...
The thought was pushed down as Elanor returned to her body and closed her hand around the crystal. Ransom and Elwyn looked up and the silver glaze faded from the witches eyes. Blinking a few times she turned to them and stood, determined.
"I know where we are going. You should too- can you not feel the pulse of his power?"
The other two looked baffled and exasperated she decided to let them feel it too. She walked towards Ransom first and raised her hands to touch his head, but he flinched away. She looked at him strangely- what did he think she would do?! He then looked at bit sheepish and muttered something about having to much experience. He leant down slightly and she pressed her hands to his head, concentrating on the power she had felt from the sorcerer. After a few seconds he gasped and his eyes flew wide open. She let go and did the same to Elwyn, who jerked back, her eyes wide.
"What is that?" Ransom whispered, his hand instinctively flying towards the hilt of his sword.
"What you at the Inquisition may call a heretics power." the witch smiled. He looked at her quizically.
"How did you...?" He didnt finish the sentence but shrugged. His face was still troubled, as was Elwyns- they had felt the pulsing power of evil magic flowing from the sorcerer. Nodding, satisfied they felt it and would know where she was going was right Elanor set off on the shortest route she could towards the courtyard and the room beside it...where the elf waited...

[Ransom]

Ransom clicked his helm back onto the rest of his armor. No one else needed to see his emotions.

He had felt that power before, felt it as it coursed through his veins, whispering dark threats and promises to his mind. But he had passed the test, though his mind and body still bore the marks.

“Fools! Do you not see the power that I wield? You shall join me in life or serve me in death!”

The witch advanced at father and son, striking down the bodyguards that dared to challenge her. Ransom watched his father raised his mace and charged, intending to strike the heretic with his massive weapon. The fog that surrounded the grove rushed inwards, crushing Ransom’s breath as it whispered in his mind. His eyes grew wide as he watched his father falter, dropping the mace and falling to the ground. In a last, desperate attempt to save his father, Ransom hurled the sword in his hand with all his might before the world faded into blackness.

Wounded by his sword, the witch was forced to flee by the guards that had survived. Ransom’s father had not survived, and his body was interred in the Chapel of Nienna in testament to his dedication and work.

The elder Deviolana’s savior was captured less than a year later. Ransom personally granted her absolution after a two-week period of cleansing under his supervision.

He continued to lag behind the group, lost in his memories of the past.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Ransom seemed distracted and caught in memories at the feel of the power pulse, but when he saw Elanor looking at him, he fastened his helmet back on, covering his face. Elanor didnt probe, forcing her mind not to pick up his thoughts. Everyone deserved their privacy. Anyway, the witches mind was working overtime anyway.
"How the heck do I beat a sorcerer of that strength?" She muttered to herself, as she hurried along the corridor in front of the other three. She thought of her skills in her head; mainly psychic skills, mind skils, illusions, sixth sense...
Yes but theyre just youre magic skills arent they? Its not your magic that he wants.
Elanor shuddered as she remembered how Calixto had looked at her in that room when theyd been brought out of their cells...

His fingers grasped her chin and he forced her head upwards. She went from one extreme to the other and stared deep into his eyes, the vivid green depths of hers meeting the dark blue of his. For a moment he stayed like this before leaning within an inch of her face and whispering to her.
"Your power is strong, I know this. But you will join with me and give me it, and belive me it shall be far better if you do this willingly!" He smiled, stroking the side of her face with his free hand briefly.
"You shall be my source of power."

Elanor closed her eyes and shook her head, remembering the touch of his smooth cold fingers on her face.
Like I said, its not your magic he wants...
Its you.
Pressing onwards, ignoring the thoughts in her head, Elanor moodily kicked open a door to her side, and ducked behing the frame with a gasp. Beyond the door was another room, beyond that the courtyard, beyond that...the sorcerer.

[Aosama, the Wandering Star]

Something made Gwyn uneasy, and she didn't believe it was the danger they were in. They were always in danger, always had been. But this was different. Tumnaooriel's helplessness and fear at Calixto's illness - but now he was fine; now he was leading them again; almost - almost as if he had never left them. But yet he was different at the same time; as if he was someone else entirely.

Gwyn approached Bulvard to tell him of her apprehension. But something in his eyes was closed to her; and this time she could not blame it on Culloth. A flash of shame at the thought of Culloth; to be bickering senselessly with her when others were in need of her help.

So she marched on, nursing her wariness within her. Soon there would need to be some explanations from Calixto.
OoC: This okay?

[Elenna]

Elwyn was confused - she felt the dark power, all right. It made her feel like every second, an enemy was about to jump at her. But as an elf and a healer, there was a power in her that fought back against the darkness.

Ransom and Elanor noticed out of the corners of their eyes that their friend was glowing slightly. All around her a red-gold corona shone. But when they looked straight at her, it was gone. They continued walking forward. Elwyn, still glowing, stumbled on a rough patch of floor. Ransom reached out to steady her. As his hand touched her shoulder, he felt a warmth running up his arm, driving out the chill of the darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor looked in wonder at Elwyn. A glow radiated of her, strengthening her. The elf must have power in her blood to fight against this dark power.
Taking a deep breath, the witch draggedher eyes away from Elwyn and looked around the corner again. In the room she couldnt see much but shadows, but saw that they were moving away from the trio. Closing her eyes, Elanor let the dark pulse move inside her, and let herself move into it. She felt the intentions of the sorcerer...and she felt the strength of his power.
It called to her. It knew she held power of her own. Yet wouldnt it be so much better to join her power with it, to use the dark arts that had always been inside her...
She opened her eyes with a shudder as soon as she had found where they were moving to. But she knew with a sinking feeling that no matter how quietly they followed, the sorcerer knew they were coming. So why hadnt he raised the alarm?
She knew the answer; he was playing with them.
Muttering a curse under her breath the witch turned to her friends. "He is going to the great hall. It is but two corridors from here- if we move quickly we can reach it before them."
Ransom shifted his grip on his pikestaff in anticipation. "An ambush? Perfect."
Elanor grinned at him. "Absolutely. In their own habitat too. Come on, lets go."
She turned to Elwyn, whose aura dispelled the darkness around her. It comforted her somehow.
"I didnt know you could play at my game Elwyn."
The elf smiled serenly at her. "I play as far as the repelling of darkness my friend. Strange considering how Mithwyn-" She seemed to catch herself and stopped. Elanor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn was in what,she thought, the worst place in her life. Everything had gone wrong. She lost her powers, and now she was a puppet!
As the four stopped before rounding a corner, Mithwyn spoke, "You do know that if you go in there, He WILL kill you."
"Silence, sister!" Elwyn spat out the last word, with such hatred that even Mithwyn had to cringe.
"Fine, I will keep my mouth shut. But don't come crawling back to me Elwyn when are at his mercy, when he steals your powers too." Mithwyn eyes blazed with anger, and they continued on with the elf witch floating in mid-air.
"Mithwyn, I am truly sorry that this is way you turned out. After all, I trusted you. You're my sister, and this what you do?!" Elwyn said in a harsh whisper, and for a minute she thought she saw saddness in her Mithwyn's eyes but it was gone before she knew for sure.

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon in his guise of Calixto led the group of warriors closer and closer to their doom. The five of them unknowingly followed the elf lord in single file, with Culloth walking in stride behind Calixto and Gwyn making up the rear. Bulvard held Tumnaooriel close to him as he walked. Suddenly the tall warrior faltered. His grey eyes widened in fear, flashes of Aronja piercing eyes played before his mind's eye and then a face, a pretty face, serene and sombre. Then it cried out as if for help...

"Elanor!" the warrior whispered hoarsely.

Calixto stopped dead in his tracks. Whirling around swiftly, he barked, "What? The witch?" Even as he spoke, Aravelenon sensed what the witch was trying to do, he also sensed that the captive trio were biting far more into the pie he had laid out for them back in his lair. That had to be stopped.

"Come, hurry... we must save them all." Calixto doubled his pace, with Culloth and Harolas on his heels. Bulvard, Tumnaooriel and Gwyn followed steadily.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Silence, sister!"
Elanor turned sharply at the last word. Sister!? Her mind boggled. Ransom looked at her and she shrugged at him, raising an eyebrow.
The pair whispered at each other for a moment, like miniture shouting, before Elwyn turned away. Elanor saw tears in her eyes as the warrior maid walked on. The witch touched her friend lightly on the arm. Elwyn whirled around angrily, but stopped as she saw it was Elanor. The mortal girl smiled at her.
"You must think Im terrible to treat my sister this way." Elwyns voice was hard with concealed tears. "But you saw what she did- how she treated the boys and now this...what can I do?" She finished defensively.
"Its alright." Elanors mind was still whirling but her voice was soothing. "I know you to not be a monster- but may I release her from the control spell? Its just...well, controlling a person..." She tailed off.
Elwyn regarded her for a moment, then looked back to Mithwyn and nodded briefly before walking on.
Elanor turned to Mithwyn. Maybe just a little look before she let her go...
No! She shook her head angrily. She couldnt just go probing into others brains! But she didnt put up the barrier either and she felt a slight spark emanate from the puppet elf as she stepped towards her. A spark of magic.
"You are a witch?" She murmered? Mithwyn looked at her fearfully, as she was still held in Elanors power, but with the same rebellious spark as...as her sister.
"Not any more." the elf spoke bitterly. "He made sure of that. Aravelenon."
"The sorcerer?" Oh Yavanna! This was bad. He could steal powers? Or was it gold again?
She expelled the controlling spell and Mithwyn collapsed forward, but Elanor didnt catch her. Scrambling up to stand on numb legs the elf glared at her but said nothing. Elanor turned to address the other two.
"Hurry. We have little time." She walked swiftly up to Elwyn; they walked at the front, with Mithwyn behind, and Ransom bringing up the rear, keeping a watchful eye on the rogue elf.
Come on Bulvard...We need the skills of the others...and I need you... Elanor sent out an image of herself to the warrior, realising he was not far at all from the castle, with 'Calixto' leading them. They were actually outside, and no doubt they would meet Aravelenon as the Ransom, the elves and the witch did.
Biting her lip in anticipation and worry, Elanor walked swiftly on...

[Ransom]

The first arrows skipped off the stone hallways around the Inquisitor, startling but not hurting the group. The crude battle cry of the orcs echoed down the hallway, their actual forms lost in the shadows. Ransom spun, trying to catch sight of the assailants.

A score of heavily armed and armored orcs rounded the corner. The first rank, armed with a short spear, charged forward. The remainder clanged their swords against long iron shield, careful to lag behind the first wave. They had been warned that the group of escapees contained a witch. Ten more short orcs followed them, enthusiastically firing at the former convicts.

Ransom felt a sharp flash of pain as an arrow punched through his armor at the elbow. The spearorcs were soon upon him, prodding his armor as he swung his halberd in a wide arc, struggling to stem the tide. His mind began to work, directing his powerful swings toward the nearest ork. The battle cry of the Inquisition rang down the corridor, fighting against the roar of dark cry. “Perish not the unclean to live!”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor ducked as an arrow flew over her head, muttering a few dark words. She saw Ransom jerk and heard him inhale sharply. Looking over she saw him pull an arrow from his arm. Unsheathing his sword, he glanced at the others before letting fly on the orcs.

Nearby, Elwyn too had withdrawn her bow and had started to let fly with deadly accuracy.

Elanor let the thoughts of the orcs flow into her mind, and after a few seconds she opened her eyes. She smiled to herself- they knew she was there. Satisfaction covered a little of the fear she felt. Well, if they expected a witch...
Mithwyn was hovering behind her, unsure what to do. Elanor turned to face her.
"You have two career choices here." Elanor couldnt bring herself to give Mithwyn her name. "One of them will bring you time, trust and loyalty."
Mithwyn glared back. "And the other?"
Once again Elanor smiled the smile of a crocodile whos just found his dinner.
"The other is a quick choice. Very, very quick. And Ransom will be assisting you in that career line."
Mithwyn glanced at the black demon sending orcs flying and swallowed hard. Elanor unsheathed her sword.
"The handle...or the other end?"
The elf hesitated briefly before taking the sword handle. Elanor nodded but did not smile.
"Good choice- Death isnt a great boss." She turned back to face the melee. "Dont use to much energy- theyre just illusions; hold that thought!"
"Theyre bleeding solid illusions witch!" Ransom yelled back.

Flicking her fingers our from her balled hands, the human concentrated on the fire inside her. A small ball of magefire appeared in each hand. Pressing the minds of her enemies briefly, catching their attention she walked forward. She smiled and raised an eyebrow and some of the smarter orcs suddenly caught on to who the fireballs would be aimed at. Putting both hands to her lips she blew gently...and the fire sparked up and shot into the rapidly scrambling away orcs, killing half and sending the scalded remainder scrabbling down the corridor as fast as they could.

Ransom flinched as the magefire had shot down the tunnel, but Elanor had dealt with that- no flame had harmed him; the most her got was a little sooty. Elwyn had already come back to the her friend, sword still drawn. Mithwyn, her sword not even bloody was looking with chronic jealousy at
the witch.
"Right. More will be along in a moment, but i beg you- concentrate on the fact they are not real. Nowhere near a solid as they look."
"I sure thatll comfor me when Im fighting." Muttered Ransom, but he was smiling slightly.
"Ok." Elanro took a deep breath. "Sorcerer..."

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn muttered a curse, and slayed a few oncoming orcs. She decided to concentrate her anger on the orcs, secretly pretending they were Elwyn and Aravelenon. She was so jealous of her sister, who still had her magics. Mithwyn had stopped fighting and just stood there, her mind full of thoughts of jealousy and anger.
"Are you going to fight or not, trader?" Ransom called to the powerless witch.
She shot him a glare, and fought a few more orcs.
"Remember! They are ILLUSIONS!!" Elwyn cried, and hurried down the hall to meet the last of them.

[Elenna]

The companions and Mithwyn met their enemies head on. They were illusions, and merely disappeared when struck with a blade, but their swords and spears were horribly real. Elwyn found this out, a cutlass opening a long, ugly gash on her sword arm. She stepped back, gasping. Barely aware of her surroundings, she saw Mithwyn step forward, and, through a haze of pain, she thought she heard the dark haired sorceress say "Get behind me, sister!"

Elwyn complied, momentarily forgetting what her twin had done, and her terrible oath.

[Aireglin]

A loud clank awoke her from her dreamless slumber. 'what was that...' she thought to herself. Her limp body was spralled apon the cool floor and her cloths were tattered and blood stained from the many wounds that lay about her body 'I smell blood...someone is fighting...if only I had the strength to stand...' It had been weeks, maybe even months, since she had had her last meal, or anything to drink for that matter. Her body was worn from lack of nuriousment and blood. She could not remember how she came about this place...all she knew was that torture was one of the Orcs favorite pas-times. 'Maybe...maybe whom ever is out there...maybe they will help me...I have nothing else to loose' She tired depratly to get up but her arms failed her. 'I can't give up...not this time' She gazed at the door ahead of her, her mind calcutaling every possible way to get attention. For someone to look into this room. Her mind,though, was worn as well all she could think of was to try and yell. She parted her chapped lips "Help..anyone..." Her voice came out at a barley adible whisper. Her throat was cracked and dry and she suddenly felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her 'I can't die down here...I won't die down here' She moved her eyes about the room once more 'There has to be something...anything...There!' She spotted chains with which her "former roomate" had been shackled to the walls with. 'They aren't too far...I must try and reach them...' Using some of the last bit of strength she had left in her body she reached out barely touching the chains. 'Just a little more...' she closed her eyes using everthing, trying to move closer. Success! Her fingers wrapped lightly around one of the chain links and pulled it to her. A loud rattling noise escapes, as the other cell member's bones fall and the chain clangs against itself 'Yes! I've done it...now...if it be fiting please someone here this...' she drops the chain with a thud, her breath shakey from all the exersion. 'Please...don't let me die down here' She waits, and suddenly footsteps can be heard coming in her direction. "Help" she tries despratly to call out again but to no avail. She takes a deep breath and with more power than what she thought she had, she manages a small hoarsh yell "HELP!"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor focused on the crystal hanging in front of her, forcing herself to concentrate. She had to know where the others were and how they were? Had Calixto revealed himself? Were they inside the castle-
She quelled the questions and took a deep breath. Looking up she caught Ransoms eye. The inquisitor nodded briefly.
"Ill watch your back, but get a move on witch!"
She smiled gratefully at him and focused once again on the crystal.

They were inside the citadel already. She could hear the sounds of the battle faintly in the background and Bulvard had too. He put his hand on his sword hilt, but Calixto stopped him.
"No!"
Bulvard frowned, puzzled. "Why? I...if an enemy comes along, I want to be able to fight-"
"They will not!" Calixtos reply was swift and desperate. Bulvards sister now came to his aid in her usual arrogant manner.
"How is it that you should tell us what to do?"
"Your brother is in my service."
"I am not!"
Calixto pressed his face only a few centimetres from hers, but his outline was wavering. "Then you shall soon be in deaths hold!"
As the warrior woman now unsheathed her sword, Calixto vanished. In his place lay simply the dead body of the man he had once been.
Tumna was shaking violently and Bulvard drew his sword too, looking around for some explanation. He knelt beside her...put his..arm..around her shoulder...s...
"Lets go...and..."

Elanor did not hear the last bit of what he said, as the scene broke up as she lost concentration. No! It wasnt fair!
She stood abruptly, rage filling her, ignoring Ransoms questioning look. "No illusion shall stand in my way!" Her voice was clear and hard as she faced the orcs.
"Wanva!" She cried, and magefire once again shot from her hands as a quick barrier. The orcs yelped wildly, scrambling backwards. Elanors continued to walk steadily after them, her hands raised for the next spell until she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.
"Help..."
The feeble cry made her look towards the door beside her, although she thought she must have imagined it. Then again...
"Help me!" It was stronger now. Calming down slightly, the witch used the point of one sai to unlock the door.
Flinging it open she walked into the dimness, and a foul smell hit her as she took in the rotting skeleton on the corner. Then a clanking of chains made her look to the other side, squinting into the darkness. A thin woman, bloodstained and ragged was struggling to stand. Her mouth twisted into an almost smile as she reached out to the witch with one scarred hand and Elanor caught her as she fell.
"At last..."
Elano stared with raised eyebrows for a moment before she called out.
"Elwyn, Mithwyn, Ransom...little help here?"

[Aireglin]

The door creaked as someone unlocked it and pushed it open. A woman stepped into the room, her hair black and her eyes filled with questionablity. She apeared to be human but Nuinlómë didn't care who or what she was because finally she would be free, finally she could hear birds and feel the wind against her face again. "At last..." Nuin says, reaching out for her and almost exploding with joy. Her savor had finally come. The woman came over, suprise and shock spilling over her face. "thank you" Nuin mouthed, unable to speak, filled with hope. "Elwyn, Mithwyn, Ransom...little help here?" said the woman, lifting up Nuin's witherd body. "What's you name?" she says looking into Nuins eyes. "Nui...Nuinlómë" she replied, tear forming in her eyes, "and you are my savor" She gripped the womans hand, unconsiousness over taking her. "My savor..." she whispered before falling into darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"My saviour..." The woman fell limp in Elanors arms. The witch stared at her incredulously.
"So not my day...Elwyn?"
"Im here." Elwyn entered the cell, but stopped dead as she saw Nuin. "Whats this?"
"She was calling...oh by the valar, someone is going to pay for this!" Elanor put her hand to the womans head, probing ever so slightly, but pulled her hand away as if it had been burnt as she felt the pain of the months Nuinlome had endured.
She shook her head to try and clear the pain away. "Her name is Nuinlome, and someone here is going to die for the way she had been treated."

The healer elf came forward, concern written on her face as she glanced in horror at the bloodstained form.
"Can you help her Elwyn? Your strengths lie far more in healing others than mine."
"I...well, I can try. A transfer of energy maybe..." Elwyn muttered to herself as she lay the pathetic form on the floor.

[Shadow_Staar]

"You can't waste your energy on her. You need it Elwyn to fight." Mithwyn protested, her form leaning against the wall.
"And what, let her die? I think not Mithwyn. She may be a valuable asset to our party." Elwyn replied.
"Fine, do as you please." The powerless witch said.
Elwyn muttered something, and soon her body on the one of the girl's were both surrouonded by a soft light...

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Aireglin]

She could feel her strength returning, her body begin to be restored. Her mind was spinning though. Thoughts of olden days, of present and of some she did not recognize, may they be of passed or of ones that have yet to come. "Nuinlome...where have you gone?" "I'm here mother..." "Do not wander so far...you could get hurt" 'Mother?...' "Why are you here child?" "I am no child! I have trained hard and fought well considering everthing that has happen" "Yes...but you still have many more things to learn" "Will you teach me Iarwing?" 'Iarwing...? But he has died...and so has my mother...Is this a dream?...It must be...Then where am I? Nuinlome bolts up from her position on the floor. It takes her a moment to relize everthing that has come to pass in her slumber. She searches her arms, legs, feet, pretty much every place examining her, now faded, cuts. "I am healed..." she mumbles to herself in disbelief. She looks, gratefully, at the people standing about her. "Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all." Her eyes shine of her happiness, and her smile is that of thankfulness.

[Elenna]

Elwyn placed her fingers on the maiden's temples, feeling how drained her lifelight was, barely a flicker of blue fire at her core. Elwyn began to chant, a honey smooth flow of words warming the air around her, causing the maiden's blue fire to grow a bit. Then, gathering a handful of her own red-gold lifelight, she tried to push it through. But the past few hours, or was it days? had sapped the healer's energy too much. She felt her own light grow dimmer, and she would have pitched forward with exhaustion had a new light not flowed in. This one was a deep burgundy, the color of heart's blood. Elwyn felt new strength filling her, and she completed the healing.

Coming out of the trance, she saw that it was Mithwyn's hand that had given her the extra lifelight. The witch's pale hand gripped Elwyn's tightly, and Mithwyn's expression was one of repressed love. Elwyn jerked away, remembering what it was that had caused her to hate her sister so.

"Don't touch me, witch. NEVER touch me again."

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn drew back, with a look of confusion, she had just helped her sister, had she not?
"Fine sister, I will never touch you, ever, again. I will never help you regain energy, I won't help you in any way at all, ever again. I will just merely sit here and lean against the wall and twittle my thumbs, shall I?" The witch asked.
Elwyn turned away and gave no answer, but Elanor answered her instead.
"No, Mythwin you cannot just sit there and twittle your thumbs, you know things, and we need answers."

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor bit her lip as Elwyn snapped at her sister. The witch had seen the coloured light flow from Mithwyns hand onto her sister, but it had been clear that she couldnt control her magic before, so it must have been triggered by a powerfl emotion. Like Love...
A look of bewildered hurt crossed Mithwyns face, before it switched back to her familiar look of contempt. Her eyes flicked up and she caught Elanors eyes when the human girl didnt look away fast enough.
"Whats your problem mortal?" She sneered quietly. Didnt mother ever tell you its rude to stare?"
The comment hit deep and the humans gaze caught the elfs. Mithwyn couldnt have known about Elanors past, which almost made it hurt even more...
She remembered the way Elwyns sister had used her magic in the past and the sympathy she had felt minutes ago subsided. Now it was Mithwyn turn to look away. She looked at her sister.
"Fine sister, I will never touch you, ever, again. I will never help you regain energy, I won't help you in any way at all, ever again. I will just merely sit here and lean against the wall and twittle my thumbs, shall I?" The elfwitch asked.
Elwyns face was shrouded in shadow and a layer of hair had fallen across it, covering her expression, but Elanor answered.
"No, you cannot just sit there and twiddle your thumbs." She failed to cover the hate in her voice, pushing aside the vision of the blazing boys. "You know things, and we need answers."
Mithwyns glare sild back to Elanor. "And why would I answer to a lowly mortal-"
"With powers far outdoing yours?" Elanor interrupted.
Mithwyns fists were clenched as she paused. Then she spread them sharply, walking away up the steps. "Whatever." She muttered.
Elanor hadnt realised she had been holding her breath until she let it out quickly. She counted to ten in her head and looked at Elwyn and the woman on the floor. Another elf. The witch knew she shouldnt feel resentful, but she couldnt help it. The woman sat up suddenly.
"Iarwing!"
Elanor raised an eyebrow at Elwyn, who shrugged. Mind probong would be so much quicker...no, immoral, mustnt be blazing immoral.
"And how are you this fine day? I dont belive we've met, Im the only flaming human girl on this quest, plus Im a witch, hey one of a kind, lucky me!"
She bit back these sarcastic words that leapt to her lips and instead nodded to the woman wordlessly. The woman filled in with enough for both of them.
"Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all."
"Im Elanor Istavaira."
Elwyn seemed to come out of her trance. "Elwyn." She introduced herself shortly.
Elanor held out her hand to the woman, pulling her to her feet. As Nuin started to talk again she held up a hand.
"We shall hear everything later. For now, I think we need to find food. And the others."

[Aireglin]

Though being a bit embarassed about her outburst, she was glad to see people again. Two of them did seem to have a "hostile" relationship, but other than that everyone seemed friendly. "Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all." Though a bit out winding, she thought it was appropriate to say that, concidering it was all true. "Im Elanor Istavaira." said the one that she had first seen before passing out, "Elwyn." said the other and the last one not saying anything at all. Nuin was still curious, like as in what they were all doing there, but before she could ask anything else Elanor ,obviously sensing her curiousity, stop her by rasing her hand. "We shall hear everything later. For now, I think we need to find food. And the others." Nuin nodded. 'I could use a change of clothes too...' she thought to herself, and mentaly checking her clothes. 'And I wonder how many "others" there are that Lady Elanor was speaking of...I guess I shall soon find out' She follows her new company out of the chamber, and down one of the many hallways. "Which way now?" Said Nuin stopping and looking down the forked path that lay before them.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Which way now?"

"Beats me. Are we following the trail of orcs to the sorcerer or are we looking for the others?" Nuin turned and hastily backed away, fumbling on the ground for a sword as she saw Ransom. Elanor smiled slightly, remembering how shed felt when shed properly met Ransom. Still, there had been arrows flying everywhere at that point...

"Vile demon get back!" The elf croaked through a still sore mouth. Ransom looked mildly affronted.

"Vile demon? Well, thats a fairly new one." He held out a hand, then seemed to think again and repeated the gesture after taking off a gauntlet. "I am Ransom DeViolana. I am with these ladies. You are...?"

Nuin glared at him for a moment, then tried a shakey smile. "My name is Nuinlome." She took his hand. Ransom frowned, realising how thin she was.

"Looks like Im not the only one who could do with a snack. Has any of you any idea how to find food around here?" He looked at Nuin. "You have been here longer havent you? Do you know the whereabouts of any storerooms?"

Nuins smile faded. She was obviously remembering what parts of the castle she did know about...Elanor felt the pain flowing from the elf maiden and almost flinched.

"Well, I suggest fighting on an empty stomach to not be the surest way of defeat. We need to find food, and join up with the others. Where did the orcs come from?" She looked around. Ransom shifted nervously.
"Well, I wasnt exactly looking for where they came from as much as showing them where they could go." He smiled ruefully. Elanor sighed.

"Well, either way works then." She bunched her hands into fists and held them out to the group. "Pick a hand."

Mithwyn rolled her eyes and sighed loudly and angrily. "We're seriously putting our lives on a game of chance?" She sneered. Elwyn shot her a murderous look and tapped one of Elanors hands. "This one."

"Ok. Lets take the right path then." She lit a few of the goblets on the wall with magefire, noting with small satisfaction the look of wonder on Nuins face. She stepped forward. "Valar hope this is the right way. Whichever way that may be..." She muttered under her breath taking the lead.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn muttered a curse of disatisfaction underbreath. She couldn't believe that they were putting their live in danger! This probably wasn't even the right way!
"Quit pouting and keep up witch, or we will leave you behind!" Elwyn sneered at her sister. Mithwyn glared, and walked faster to keep up.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor walked as confidently as she could aheadf of the group, a bll of magefire hovering above her outstretched hand. The groups footsteps echoed throughout the empty silence of the corridor. She was trying not to even think about how far they were from the sorcerer they were, what would happen if they stumbled in on him and his orcs with their tiny band of a witch, a witch with no powers, a starving elf and two fighters. As well she knew that herself, Elwyn and Ransom fought, and Mithwyn no doubt although she had only really seen her fighting for the enemy....but it would be nothing against the orcs. There was no use in worrying right now though; they had out their lives in the hands of fate...

Eleanor was pondering on just how stupid that had been when she heard voices. Flattening herself against the wall and dimming the magelight to a spark, the others followed and she listened intently for the nature of the voices. In the echoes of the corridor it was impossible to tell clearly even what the creatures were. She exchanged a glance with Elwyn who was just beside her, who put her hand grimly on her sword. Counting silently to three holding up her fingers, the pair leapt out with a yell.

Several things happened at once. Elanors magefire went out altogether, plunging them into absolute darkness. The victims of the attack also started yelling randomly as they realised they were the victims of an attack, and Elanor realised she had made a mistake; despite the echoes and chaos, these were not orc voices. She called to Elwyn, and Mithwyn who now also seemed to have joined them to stop but she couldnt concentrate on getting the magelight to flare up as a figure from the darkness had dived on her and in the darkness seemed to be trying to stab her. Ransom had also joined in now...

"STOP!"

The call echoed throughout the corridor, a strong, confident voice that she thought she recognised. In the silence she fumbled about, removing herself from her assailants grip and concetrating to light a ball of magefire above her hands. Looking around she saw all the figures in various stages of shocked freezeframe and saw that their victims were...

"Bulvard, Aiwyn, Gwyn, Tumnaooriel! At last!" Elanor heard Elwyn shout, delighted. Elanor said nothing, simply staring at Bulvard. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "Bulvard!" She said quietly and hurried over. He grabbed her, hugging her tightly, then realised what he was doing and let go, rather awkwardly. She stood back and smiled shyly at him, then at all of them.

"Well met indeed, friends!" She laughed, producing smiles even from the now rather bruised elves and humans. "Now-"

She stopped, hearing other voices, deeper, more sinister. Someone was looking for them. She gritted her teeth. Well, theyd see who found who first...

[Elenna]

Elwyn gripped her sword hilt tightly. The elf maiden glowed faintly in the light, something that Elanor and Ransom were becoming used to. However, Bulvard and the rest stared openmouthed.

"Long story," muttered Elanor. They all stood, tense as a plucked harpstring, waiting for something to spring at them out of the darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor smiled as she saw the others surprise at Elwyns bizarre appearance then turned back to where the voices seemed to have come from, but the echoes distorted them so badly that they seemed to be coming from all around. The magelight, their only source of light beside Elwyn, sent strange shadows around, making figures leap in the darkness. She tightened her grip on her sais and gritted her teeth.

Then realisation dawned on her and she wasnt the only one as Ransom looked at her alarmed; it wasnt just the echoes. The voices were coming from all around. There were three other corridors splitting from this one and the hideous orc voices were reaching them from all three.

She saw the others work it out and various levels of panic grew on their faces. Elanor motioned a finger to her lips and started feeling around the walls, looking in the dimmed light for a door. Elwyn signalled from further along- shed found a door. Pushing open the door, wincing as the hinges creaked too noisily it seemed to their tightened nerves, the group streamed through the door. As Bulvard closed behind her though she thought she heard a voice shout, that someone had found them before they were once again plunged into darkness.

A light switched on in front of them and the witch froze. Theyd been found.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc – Place the events here before Aman’s last post. Before they were found.


“Elanor!” asked Bulvard, curiously peering at the woman, “How did you get freed?”

“We managed to…” Elanor began, but the tall, white haired warrior cut her off. “Have you seen Calixto?”

“Calixto?” cried Elanor as Elwyn echoed her.

“Yes, Calixto,” uttered Tumnaooriel nervously, “He’s the one who led us here to this place…”

“And then he disappeared.” Added Gwyn, grimacing in pain.

“Where are Harolas and Aiwyn?” asked Elwyn.

“We don’t know.” Replied Bulvard, his sword already in hand. “Ransom! You and Elwyn take Tumnaooriel and go one way, and Elanor, Gwyn and I will take the other.”

“Right,” agreed Ransom, “We can regroup outside.”

“But what about Calixto?” asked Gwyn.

“What indeed?” mumbled Bulvard as he stepped ahead of Elanor and gingerly peered outward.

It was time to get to the bottom of all this.

But before the group could split up…

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: Thanks Cimm, good to have you back!
Elanor froze as the light came on. She heard footsteps, large heavy ones thundering around behind her, obviously through the door. A voice yelled in orcish. The witch saw Bulvard and Ransom put their hands on the swords and it yelled again. Another voice, a guttural human one spoke.

"Keep your hands off your swords. Keep your hands by your sides."

Ransom looked rebellious but stopped. Again a voice yelled in orcish and they heard the footsteps coming closer. They had rough strips off cloth and started to wrap them around the eyes of the men and elves. Elanor saw Elwyn start to struggle as she was beside her and flinched as a wild man struck her across the face. Her turn came but still she did not move as the ragged looking man started to tie it around her head.

"Where are you taking us?" She said quietly to him. She could not see his reaction but he paused. "To the valley of death methinks." He leered. He paused again. "As good as anyway. Youre going to see the Master of the Sword."

Aravelenon. She shivered but then the voice yelled again and they were dragged along, blindly.

She didnt know how long they were dragged along but eventually she was thrown on her knees on the floor. The blindfolds were not removed. By the sounds of panting and struggling beside her, she guessed that at least the two men of their group had had their hands bound. Eventually they stopped and there was silence. The silence of waiting.

Clack...clack...clack... The sound of slow controlled footsteps sounded behind them. Elanor forced herself not to turn around; she refused to make a spectacle of herself in case she fell. Besides, her limbs seemed to be frozen.

The footsteps came to a halt behing Elanor and she heard him-Aravelenon-laugh and started to clap slowly.

"Well done my friends, well done. My my, you have done well, havent you?" His voice was patronising and Elanor gritted her teeth, wanting so badly to slap him.

...The floor beneath her was richly carpetted...proabably the thick white carpet of the room she and Elwyn had been in before...

"I didnt expect you to do so well." She heard a thud from nearby as Aravelenon kicked one of the group.

...but a different carpet under her other knee, thinner, a different texture...the red one he had arrogantly laid down the middle of the room. That meant they must be spread fairly evenly across the middle...

"Position one of your soldiers beside each of them and take off the blindfolds; bind their hands. No, no, not her, I told you about her. Oh, and you can leave her as well, she was quite spirited." His voice was irritable. Who was he talking about as the exceptions? Quite spirited...so Elwyn was one.

...he was standing beside her, the wall was, say, 5 metres away from her on either side...right. She knew where she was.

Around her she knew the others were being untied. Yet she was not.Aravelenon stopped his pacing beside her, kneeling down. She could feel his breath on the side of her face he was so close, but did not look.

"And so we meet again witch. And Ive been doing my research on this sword of yours- Ive found exactly what it is that can release its power- the blood of one of strong magic." She heard a knife flicked open beside her face. "And now we must ask ourselves...is your magic strong enough?"

[ November 24, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon smiled satisfactorily as the young woman before him quivered in fear. He could sense her fear. Her fear made him strong. He fed on the fear of his adversaries. Fear made him stronger. Especially the fear of beautiful, young witches.
Removing her blindfold with a wave of his bony hand, the elven wizard laughed, a low raspy laugh that gradually shifted its pitch into a high, shrill whistle.

Elanor blinked and tried focusing her eyes, the room she was in was bright, but everything around her appeared veiled and clouded. As her vision slowly cleared, she found herself in a small room. Bright fires illuminated the high ceilinged dome, that glistened with sickly white marble. Brightly lit, oil lamps, hung from the ceiling on lengthy silvered chains as flowing curtains of darkly embroidered silk, unashamedly draped the high walls. The highly polished marble floor reflected every object in the room, giving the already enchanting atmosphere a overly ethereal and evil feel.

Aravelenon reached out to her and touched her. "Yeild to me, witch," he rasped, "And all this will be yours to share."

Elanor swallowed hard. She couldn't sense the others anywhere. Where could they be. What was that sound, was it her frightened heart beating? Her wide eyes fell upon the tall, elegantly attired elven wizard and she could almost sense his evil aura, and she knew that he could feel her weakening.

"Oh Bulvard! Oh Elwyn! Where can you all be?" mocked Aravelenon, almost as if he could read her mind. In his hands he held a beautifully crafted longsword. It appeared to be bathed in a dull, crimson glow. A glow that seemed to get more and more intense.

"Yeild, Witch!"

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn cringed as her blindfold was removed. She knew well where she was, and she hated this place, this was where Aravelenon took her powers, the only thing she ever loved, except her sister. She looked over to her sister, and Mithwyn saw that Elwyn, though she may be frightened, never let it show. Mithwyn respected her sister, though she could never tell her.
Mithwyn looked over to Elenor, and saw Aravelenon take her blood, and the powerless witch gasped, she knew what was coming...

[ November 25, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor blinked in the searingly bright light. She had been moved to a smaller room it seemed; how could she not have felt herself being moved then?

She felt out with her mind for the others, but there was a barrier; something stopped her mind. A sound, constantly beating in the background, was getting faster and faster; she was constantly aware of her own heartbeat.

She looked around; something was dulling her senses as effectively as strong wine, and her brain was functioning pathetically slowly.

Aravelenon reached out to her and touched her. Elanor forced herself not to vomit at his touch."Yeild to me, witch," he rasped, "And all this will be yours to share."

Yes...yield to him and she could have everything...live with this elegant sorcerer...get revenge on those who shunned her....NO! She forced her wandering mind back under her control. Where in the name of the Valar were-

"Oh Bulvard! Oh Elwyn! Where can you all be?" He had read her mind she was sure of it. And now as she stayed still she could just feel him, in the corner of her mind. If she could fix her power on him...

"Yield witch!" He weighed the sword in his hand, preparing to swing...and Elanor looked up. She caught his black gaze and shut down her mind hard on his. The wizard gasped and stepped backwards and the walls of the room began to flicker. It was an illusion!

She concentrated her mind on the illusion, forcing away the fake walls, but still the barrier held...

"Ah!" She yelped, clutching her arm. Aravelnon smiled wickedly as he brought the sword back towards him and she saw on its glowing reddish silver surface a darker red substance. Her own blood.

Slowly, he lifted it up to his face, and licked the blade, licked up her own blood and smiled, closing his eyes as if in ectasy. Elanor gritted her teeth. She could still hear her heartbeat and the wond on her arm burned like ice, but the pain was clearing her head. This was her chance. Raising her hands, she screamed a spellword and magefire leapt from her hands, burning his bony ones. With a yelp he dropped the sword and it started spinning towards her, ending beside her foot. He dived towards it but she kicked it out of the way.

"You cannot stop it witch!" He snarled at her, his scalded hands clenched. "Its power is out, and only one can bind that power!"

"Only one..." She whispered. She looked down at the glittering blade at her feet, seeing its hilt was made of pure gold. But she knew, with a terrible sinking crystal clear thought exactly what she had to do.

"Only one." She murmered more resolutely. Slowly, she started to bend down, her hand reaching for the elegant hilt of the throbbing weapon...

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood transfixed, his eyes blinking to adjust to the bright light in the room they were pushed into, their blindfolds were roughly removed. Beside him Elwyn muttered curses, and Tumnaooriel whimpered holding on to Ransom. Gwyn stood as grim and sombre as the room itself. A woman also stood along with them. One Bulvard had not seen before. She was young, and perhaps beautiful. She wore a tired and pained expression, and certainly was a good deal younger than she presently appeared.

“What is this place?” Bulvard growled, and was silenced by a resounding whack to the head. A large creature shoved at the tall warrior thereafter, “Silence! The lord speaks…” it managed to enunciate gutturally.

The six of them were standing in a dark, damp room reeking with foul odours. Swarthy forms of leathery skinned creatures, mucus hanging off their ill-equiped armour, their rusty weapons in hand, stood all around them, their backs pressed against the circular walls. The floor was strewn with rotting pelts of animals, elves and men alike. And in the middle of it all a tall, thin man stood with a mocking look on his hawk like features.

Bulvard stiffened as he noticed the young witch, Elenor, in a trance, reach out for the being's outstretched arms. Everything about them seemed bathed in red. The tall warrior grimaced as he strained against invisible bonds that burned against his flesh. Psychic restraints. Bulvard hated magic.

Looking around he noticed the others, notably Ransom, Elwyn and Gwyn stuggling in similar fashion. Tumnaooriel and the other woman did not resist much, but were equally appalled, if not more so at the sights they were forced to witness. Elanor, apparently oblivious of their presence, continued to dance to the sorcerer’s mocking chant.

Where were Harolas and Culloth? The tall white haired warrior wondered.

---------------------------------------

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Cimmerian]

Harolas and Culloth trudged through the thick, dark foliage that populated the rocky foothills of the larger hills looming over the forest from where they had come. Following the faint tracks made by the caravan that supposedly held captive the missing members of their party.

Culloth insisted that none of this be told to her brother, because she felt he was in no condition to go on a rescue mission. Though she regretted leaving him with that woman, Tumnaooriel. She looked too alarmingly like Fiona, that every time Culloth saw her, all the sadness in her life came rushing out of the dark recesses of her mind and flooded her senses and judgment.

The structure they found was well hidden, amidst the craggy surface of the hillside and Harolas was sure that this was where they would find their friends. Initially the elf had objected to their embarking on this rescue attempt without Bulvard, but then he realized that Culloth and he were the only two people in this party who didn’t sport any injuries or ailments.

Bulvard was constantly troubled, Tumnaooriel was in no shape to be a warrior and though Gwyn was, she was severely injured. There was no sign of Aiwyn.

Besides an elf was in danger, and it was his duty to aid her. Especially since she was someone whom he regarded as special.

Unknowning of Calixto’s true nature and the present status of thier companions, the two able warriors, stealthily made their way toward the foreboding estate of the evil sorcerer and elf lord, Aravelenon.

------------------------------------

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon spread out his hands and began to chant in a long dead tongue, his voice invoking, commanding. The Crimson Sword, now mysteriously suspended itself in mid air, still glowing a sickly red aura. Aravelenon seemed to feed off the glow; its power appeared to course through his veins, building like a pleasure of taking a woman. Every instant prolonging made the pleasure even greater. Elanor’s body began to jerk and sway, she convulsed repeated. All her powers, energies and her very life seemed to drain away. The sorcerer reached out and held his open palm before Elanor’s flushed face. She was strong, but her fear made her unsure and indecisive. It would be a challenge for this evil sorcerer to break her. Yes, break her indeed. She would do his bidding or she would die by the blade of the Crimson Sword.

Already her rich, sweet blood, which he had lustfully savoured, had whetted the thirsty blade a while. But soon, it would need more. Aravelenon waved his thin arms up and down, and Elenor swayed like a bough in a summer breeze, in rhythmic step to the sorcerer’s hypnotic chant.

Aravelenon’s chant became more insistent even as the sword began to glow brighter and brighter. His minions and prisoners alike, whom he wished to have witness his power, moved back as one as the arcane syllables pierced their senses. They understood not a single word, but they all knew what they meant in the depths of their souls. Certain death.

Aravelenon’s voice grew no louder, yet his words seemed to shake the walls. Tapestries stirred as if at an unheard, unfelt wind. The glow from the Crimson Sword, suspended now directly over Elanor’s head, grew brighter, blindingly brighter.

Elanor’s near limp, trance-induced body shuddered violently like a leaf in a hurricane.

The end, it seemed, was near.

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: Dont just disregard my posts or anything cimmerian!

Elanor fell against one of the walls, straining to hold on to conciousness. But it would be so easy to slip away into the beauitful, last sleep that Aravenon promised...

No! The sword, the crimson sword bathed in her blood; it sickened her, but she had to get it.

"Hel'cria!" Aravelnon spoke louder then continued his chant. Elanors body convulsed and her insides felt like they were coming apart. She tried to tell herself it was an illusion, but that was hard when she felt the trickle of blood running down her chin.

"El'Narah!" She lashed out in return. Her fear was going to him, strengthening and weakening her. She was not afraid...not afraid.... As she had done before, she felt his power as a solid force, dragging it back to her, gathering it like a net in her hands. All at once she threw it out and the sorcerers own powers hit him full on. He flew backwards, hitting the wall opposite, but his hand still held the Sword. She needed help...

"Mithwyn!" Mithwyn? Why had she yelled Mithwyns name? A dark witch- no, a powerless dark witch! Well, if her brain had a idea, he may as well just go along with it... "Come here...come daughter of the Eldest, strengthener of the dark powers now strengthen me!"

She felt a power becoming unleashed in her. Darkness she had alwayds known was there. Using this against the weakened wizards bonds over her friends she released Mithwyn, beckoning her to come. An orc leapt after her, but when a circle of magefire surrounded the elf he jumped back, beaing out the flames on his armour. Exhilerated, Elanor shot magefire in long fingers out to the sides of the room. It flickered along the walls; at her signal, the entire room could be convulsed in flame.

She held out her hand to Mithwyn but the elf looked uncertainly at it.

"Do you want revenge on he who took your powers? With the power that destroyed them, will you lay to rest the boys, dead by your hand?" She cried above the flames. Her strength was coming back. She saw the pain flicker across Mithwyns face, and the anger. And the fear...? The elf took the other witches hand.

"Elves of noble and true blood, healers through the magic of light, come to me!" She meant to release Elwyn, but strangely, Tumnaooriel was released as well. Tumna has magic? She pushed this thought aside and sent the flames further across the walls. Elwyn rested her hand on her sisters and on Elanors.

"I am sorry to do this..." Elanor murmered before she sent a wave of force through herself. The other two reeled back, yelling our in pain, but to Elanors admiration they held on. The force throbbed around the room as Elanor gathered it to her. Aravelnon was getting up now, his eyes flashing pure darkness. He still held the sword. Out of the power in the air she drew s pair of sais, made of a combination of the powers in the room, forged of emotions.

"Come sorcerer." She yelled. In one movement, both rushed across the room, clashing weapons in the centre with clash of sparks...

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn fell to the ground next to Elwyn, and watched as Elanor charged the sorcerer. Their weapons clashed, and Elanor had the look of pure determination, and he had the look of pure evil. Silently Mithwyn cheered on Elanor, this man had taken her powers, and she was useless.
Pain crossed her face again, as she remembered the day he took them. He had promised her so much, and now look where she was. She was brought out of her daydream, when Elwyn touched her arm. Mithwyn looked at her sister, and in Mithwyn's eyes, she apologized to her dear sister, or at least she tried to.

[Cimmerian]

As Culloth and Harolas made their way up to the base of the foreboding castle like structure, they were ambushed by some of the lowlife that were set to stand guard.

Making short work of the nuisances the two warriors made their way up the western wall. Over them, from an open window strange sounds could be heard emanating. Something told Harolas and Culloth that that was where they would find what the sought or surely they would find their deaths.

[Cimmerian]

Mithwyn and Tumnaooriel were free of the mystic bonds that Bulvard, Elwyn and Ransom struggled against. The bonds seemed to weaken their hold and then reinstate itself on the captors, as the surges of power ebbed and flowed in tidal waves between the evil sorcerer and tortured witch.

Bulvard roared at Tumnaooriel to get away as the orcish creatures closed in on her even as their master battled on. Aravelenon’s power almost always seemed to overwhelm Elanor. It seemed like it was always Aravelenon who struck first, and Elanor defended. Aravelenon advanced and Elanor retreated.

Bulvard fought as hard as he could against the bonds, something in him urged him on to protect the young witch. When she had freed Bulvard from his mental torment and torture, a strange kind of mystic bond had developed between warrior and witch, as if they were kindred spirits. It was sheer torture for the white haired warrior to seem Elanor suffer so.

Aravelenon’s dark obsidian eyes blazed with pure hatred hell-bent on the witch’s destruction. He knew that the Crimson Sword amplified his evil powers and the witch had no hope against him. He increased the intensity of his attack all the while chanting in an obscene, alien tongue. Elanor couldn’t seem to understand the words he uttered, but she felt their intent. She seemed to weaken with every one of his blows. Then she stumbled and fell, the weapons she held went clattering across the hard, filthy floor.

Aravelenon loomed over her, Crimson Sword raised ready to strike. His lewd chanting continued and suddenly Elanor could understand what he was saying…

“If you woke up from your sleep blood on your hands
Would you wash the pain away no one understands
There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again
And would it ever be enough…

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel was frozen to the spot with terror. Her legs shook beneath her, but she knew that if she could summon the mental and physical energy to move them, the strict bonds would no longer be there.

She was not free though. She knew she would never be free. Unbidden came again the image of the child on the bed, pushing itself to the front of her mind. Her eyes were clouded with tears for the evil she had not been able to undo. He had called out towards the end, for help, for peace, for rest and she had been unable to give him either. He had trusted her. Had lain quietly in her arms as she tried to ease the excrutiating pain she could not banish, tears rolling down his cheeks and there had been nothjing she could do. He had forgiven her. He was young and trusting. He had known her only to be good and kind, a healer of the sick, the one who had kissed him better when he had fallen, but she had not been able to save her own son even with the little magical skill she possessed.

She could not fight. she had never been a fighter. She had been a healer and now she was no longer that.

[Elenna]

Tears of helpless rage coursed down Elwyn's face as she watched the battle between the evil sorcerer and her friend. She struggled against the bonds, but to no avail. From a little distance away, she caught Bulvard's eye. He tried to smile, but it didn't come off right.

Suddenly, Elwyn began to feel dizzy. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her fists, willing the vertigo to go away. All around her was surrounded with bright light, and she thought she heard some kind of music. Then, a voice entered her ear. It sounded like laughter and the ringing of swords. You are free now. Fight! Fight! It is your destiny.

And as quickly as it had come, the dizziness was gone. Elwyn unclenched her fists, and found that her hands were free. She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Bulvard was still looking at her, and she moved her hands to show him that her bounds had been untied. He grinned suddenly. The odds were beginning to look better.

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Elenna ]

[Cimmerian]

Harolas was the first to reach the awning of the high window, peering in he gasped. With a deft leap, he entered the room flying, his elven longsword in hand. Culloth was still halfway down when the elf threw himself into the horde of orc-like creatures and slimy warg that crowded around the arched doorway of a room that was bathed in bright arcane light.

The elf archer's skill with the blade had often been over-shadowed by his prowess with the bow, but he showed both friend and foe that he could match even the most skilled of swordsmen. Harolas' elven blade weaved like silvered lighting as he cut and hacked a path through the slimy hordes of orcs and warg. His keen senses told him that Elwyn and the others, even Elanor were in the room these filth guarded and he meant to get in there even if he had to plough his way through all the forces of Mordor.

Culloth had just managed to reach the sill of the window when a screaming mass of orc flesh flew out, nearly taking her down wth it. She stared in awe at the elf prince of Mirkwood in savage glory and she smiled, a vicious cold smile that did not extend to her eyes. Vaulting into the room, Culloth landed on top of writhing bodies of orcs, with sword and dagger in each hand.

With a gleam of savage fury in her wild eyes, the Gondorian shieldmaiden launched herself into the blood bath that played all around.

Meanwhile Bulvard was yet to break free of his arcane manacles when he heard the commotion coming from outside the room where they were held captive. His tired eyes saw Elwyn break free of her bonds, he smiled weakly, and renewed his fight against his. The two women who had fallen free earlier were now at the mercy of the orcs and wargs that hovered around. Bulvard fought desperately trying to get free, his broadsword lay just a few hand lengths away. If only he could break free...

[Amanaduial the archer]

“If you woke up from your sleep blood on your hands
Would you wash the pain away no one understands
There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again
And would it ever be enough…"

The chant spun around Elanors head and she wondered about the words briefly. Very briefly. She spun quickly to the side as the sword sliced through the stones of the floor where she had been a moment ago, catching her cloak. The flames ignited it, struggling to her feet she tore it off, throwing it at Aravelnon. He cried out as the flames burnt his face and smiling slightly, Elanor drew back her hand and ounched him right across the face. Caught of guard he fell to the ground, the Sword falling from his hands. Swiftly Elanor picked it up, the gold handle fitting into her hand as if it was made for her. With a slightly shaky hand, she placed the sword at the sorcerers hand.

Around them a battle was raging. Vaguely something in the back of her mind told her Harolas and Culloth were also in the fray. The two magic users barely noticed, glaring at each other. Elanors hand was now not shaking but as steady as a rock. Slowly she drew it back then paused.

"Who do you think could help me breathe again?" She whispered quietly. In a quick movement she plunged the flaming sword down.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aravelnon screamed like a wild animal as the flaming sword sunk into his chest. Elanor barely registered surprise as the blade carried on going through the floor until its hilt rested on the black sorcerers chest and she was kneeling beside him. His black eyes flashed silver then back to their unnerving darkness as his scream faded, leaving him writhing on the floor. Seeming to get a hold of himself, speaking almost inaudibly through gritted teeth, he grabbed the front of Elanors collar as he bent her ear to his lips.

"At least...at least I got you to kneel to me!"

Disgusted, Elanor stood sharply, wrenching the sword from Aravelnons chest. His entire body convulsed once then lay still. His eyes faded from black, becoming the green of emeralds. His dark hair paled and thickened, turning ash blonde. His wiry body thickened slightly, muscles forming, becoming healthier looking, and his pale, translucent skin darkened to the tan of one who lives in the sun.

Elanor gasped; in front of her lay Calixto, the very one who had started the quest. She hung her head wearily; a ragged human witch with an ancient sword hanging from her burnt hands.

Lifting her head slowly she looked around once, taking in everything. Elwyn still stood with her sister, watching her as if frozen, but something had changed about Mithwyn; like her sister, she was glowing slightly with inner power. The last of the orcs fell to Harolas' blade as he stood in front of Culloths body, slain by a wild mans blade. Tumnaooriel also lay on the floor, a thin trickle of blood issuing from her forehead.

A man was kneeling at her side, a white haired warrior. His eyes were knowing, ancient with the knowledge and pain they bore, and those eyes lifted slowly from the healers body as he stood and turned. His sword fell from his hands as his eyes caught that of Elanor Istavaira. She held his gaze for a moment and, lifting her hands, she held up the Crimson Sword, the sword that determined the fate so long ago of Horus, a warrior against the beasts of flame itself, and now determined the fate of a group of warriors and witches. The Sword that now rested in her hand, its dull red sheen still telling its story. Raising it to her lips, her eyes never leaving Bulvards she kissed it, adding her own tale to that of the Sword. With that her eyes closed and she fell to her knees and as the warrior ran over, Elanor Istavaira collapsed, the Crimson Sword still held in her hand.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn stood next to Elwyn, and she suddenly started to glow. Mithwyn's eyes seemed by hollow. She didn't know she was doing it!
"Mithwyn?" Elwyn asked.
But Mithwyn didn't answer, she just continued to glow.
Elwyn looked shocked, since when could her sister glow like she did?
Mithwyn held out her hand to Elwyn, and she grasped it. Magic flooded threw their vains, and their bodies glowed together, like they should have long ago. The sisters were reunited, in body, in magic, and in spirit.

[Amanaduial the archer]

A small group were mounted outside the gates of the Rafflensher castle, on a foggy and cold day of autumn; two men and three elves. A year and a day ago most had stood in that same place. But it was always felt that there had been more then… The group waited in silence after they dismounted, intuitively knowing who for. And once again, one of them was late.

After a moment, one of the elf maidens laughed, a silvery, carefree sound, causing the others to look at her in surprise. She smiled back at them. "Well, some things never change. Harolas is still late!" Elwyn chuckled. Her careworn face was much smoothed after a year of simply travelling, but some scars of her memory could still be seen; the memory of the death of a close friend one year ago. And, as it had been when she was thrown in front of Calixto, her spirit was still indomitable.

One of the other elves, standing next to Elwyn, as dark as her sister was fair, smiled also. Elwyn had told her sister much of the original group as they travelled together of the past year, making up for their parting after their magical reunion after the death of The Sorcerer. Mithwyn’s powers were stronger than her sisters now but she did not misuse them any more. Mithwyn, the traitor who in the end had helped with her powers to save them all. “He was with us when we left Mirkwood.” Elwyn continued

“Aye, but he is a one for pretty girls isn’t he? Probably got lost and started chasing them, eh sister?” Mithwyn teased. She knew how strongly Harolas was devoted to her sister.

“Mithwyn, I-“ the other elf started before being interrupted.

“- Hope you know, Mithwyn that I would never do such a thing!” Harolas dismounted onto the ground and looked around slightly bashfully. “Pardon my timing. Ah, I am not the last I see- not everyone is here yet.”

“Aiwyn I fear will not be coming, and neither will Gwyn. The Green Lady has returned to her home and I hear both of them are making quite a name for themselves as warriors of Rohan.” The other elf, who had not yet spoken broke in eagerly here. She did not know the others as well; after the final battle, Nuinlome of Lorien had gone back to the sanctuary of the Golden Wood. She pulled her cloak around herself, and smiled sadly as she remembered the other who could not be here, who never could, the witch who in the midst of a battle had still found her. Her saviour. The two elves and one of the men also remembered finding her. Said man smiled at her;

Ransom DeViolana had travelled far to be here after he had received the message from Bulvard. The inquisitor was still part of the inquisition, on of the masters of it now. He would always remember the way Aravelnon had killed Elanor and caused the death of Bulvards sister, the warrior woman Culloth, the way he misused his powers. He was no stranger to magic, but such dark magic was exactly what he fought against and always would. He had not seen much of the others in the past year either, for he too had travelled before throwing himself into the Inquisition.

“And she will not come will she?” The white haired warrior now spoke, his voice sad. “Tumnaooriel.” He added, as if the others could not have guessed. He sighed heavily. “I did not think she would.”

He had thought much of the healer, the one who so reminded him of his own Fiona. But she was not the only one who had preyed on his mind…the witch, her voice, the way she spoke to him, the way she brought him from his sickness.. everything about her preyed on his mind every day of the long year he had spent wandering. And he could never see her again. Except in his dreams.

“Really? I think you may be wrong there Bulvard, unless there is yet another who had those same stunning features that more than one woman already seem to share.”

At Elwyns voice Bulvard looked up sharply and stopped breathing. Coming out of the mist there was a tall figure, her blonde hair flowing down her back. Her sad eyes took them all in silently until she caught Bulvard’s and stopped dead. The space between them was more than a few metres; between them was the memory of two dead women. Fiona and Elanor. Elanor Istavaira.

The Dark Sorcerer had caused her death but with it had paid with it with his own.

Elanor fell, the sword still held in her hand. Bulvard caught her as she fell to the ground, holding her in his arms.

“No Elanor, you cant do this. Please don’t do this.” The warrior sobbed over her, shaking her body. The womans eyes flicked open for a moment, but the mist was gathering in them as she looked beyond him, beyond this room, this castle, this world.

“My…my purpose here is done Bulvard. I cant stay, you cant hold me here.” Her voice was barely a whisper and Bulvard bent his head down to her to hear her. Her voice was still fading as she continued, slowly raising her hand, the hand holding the Sword. “Take it. But…destroy it. No one must have this. You must destroy it. Live well Bulvard. And let her.”

With that and with a small sigh, Elanor Istavaira’s eyes close, her body relaxing as her spirit left it. As her hand fell, Bulvard caught her hand, taking from it gently the Crimson Sword. The sword that was no longer simply a weapon; it ruled the fates of all these people here gathered. It destroyed lives, and here had destroyed its last…but could it have strengthened one?

Bulvards eyes still held Tumna’s as he remembered how she had walked over to him then, the blood still running from his head. He bowed his head to her and she walked over to him and they embraced tightly.

From high above there seemed to be a sigh, of passion and sadness, yet of a spirit released. Elanors purpose was done and new purposes were made. The group was fully gathered and was made whole as the healer and the warrior embraced. The quest was over.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Well thats it then. With my 1000th post, I finish this role play. Thankyou everyone, it was a pleasure playing with you. I hope this reaches the elvenhome, so The Sword can be remembered.