Castle Maladil - RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

Upon hearing this news, everyone in the company began talking at once, asking each other what Gandalf had meant by this point or that point. They chattered back and forth to each other, discussing each detail of the plan. Andreth was sure that in a minute they would turn back to the wizard and pose their questions. But for this one instant at least, Gandalf sat quietly by himself on a log, first eating his meal, and then smoking his pipe and smiling gently at the general hubub he had caused.

With uncertain steps, Andreth approached the wizard with her small book in hand, "Sir, if I may, she said softly, extending the volume to him, "My family has something that may possibly help us. I can not read this, but perhaps you might be able to do so." Her hand shook and her voice quavered as she handed the small and tattered volume over to him.

She did not explain why her family had the book, nor give any details about her kindred. For, perhaps the wizard already knew. And, if not, he could certainly ask.

"And one other thing, sir, you have said I may speak but perhaps to my great peril. I have supected such things, but it is possible you may know more of this, or at least understand more, than my father and I do. I would be grateful for any information you could give me. I long to free those poor souls in the Castle, but I must be honest. I fear that if I set foot on those grounds, I may never get out alive"

She sadly shook her head, looking down to the ground, not even daring to meet his eyes. "Every night now, I dream. Horrible dreams I do not understand. But I can not turn away from the pleas of the children. They come to me and beg for release, yet I do not know what I can do to help them."

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf extended his hand to receive Andreth's proffered tome, grasped it, stared at the cover, gasped, stood, bowed towards Andreth, and sat again. And then did not move. And then at last spoke. *

Ai Andreth, you could, as Holly does, teach the company to recognize the flowing script for Laurëondo, as it graces the cover of this book you bear!

* Gandalf flipped to a page at random, and read aloud: *

Stately Stables of Laurëondo - Pass in Westwards through the Outer Entryway, turn left, then right into the Inner Courtyard. Veer to the left, then right. The entrance to the stables will be on the left, towards the South Wall. Many a fair horse housed here, and were not denied the golden elegance of their masters. For stall and manger were all of fine yellow cedar, polished gleaming, befitting those creatures who in the Second Age carried the day against forces of night retreating over the hills. The Stately Stables were always well stocked with all manner of grains and wholesome refreshing water. And well supplied too with all manner of intricate carven leather saddles, to fine bits and bridles, to bells in tinkling strands of gold.

* Gandalf closed the book, turning the page to other matters. *

For the Children of Men to speak with the dead is always perilous. Moreso, when the dead are Elves. Speaking with ghosts at all requires quite an effort, and is not always successful even with such an effort. O, but success brings with it the danger of drawing attention to yourself.

And you, Andreth, risk the most on this venture. For if you do not get out alive, then we shall have need of freeing you along with those you seek to free. Because of this, your coming is a great power in itself. You can speak words which I cannot, by your voice, and in your silence.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tears welled up in Andreth's eyes as she stared out to the horizon. "I am so little. I have no great skill in arms, nor have I lived many years and gained great wisdom as you and Noldor have done. But still, these are my kin, and many other people who are suffering. I can not turn my back on them. It would not be right. If I can help by speaking or staying silent, or by going in or staying apart, please tell me. I will try to do whatever it is that you say."

Then, she quietly took her leave.

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

‘Did you hear what the wizard said?’ Bird took Holly by the arm and tried to pull her away a space for a private conversation. Holly shook her off and continued drawing in the dirt with her long stick. ‘Stop that doodling!’ demanded Bird. ‘I want to talk about that bit he just said – the bells in tinkling strands of gold.’

‘Fetch me my small pack. The one with my drawing materials in it.’ Holly looked distractedly at Bird, then, crouching down, added a few details in the dirt with her finger tip. Muttering loudly about the mule-headed Hobbit, Bird brought her back the pack.

Holly rummaged through it until she found her hardest drawing pencil. Taking the much folded map from her vest pocket she smoothed it on the dirt beside the crude map she had drawn on the ground. ‘Look, Bird!’ she said, motioning her friend down beside her. ‘This map I have isn’t too off from what the grounds might look like. It’s just a little sparse in detail.’ She pointed to the map she had scratched in the dirt while listening to Gandalf speak.

‘Here on the west, is what he called the Outer Entryway. And then here must be the area called the Inner Courtyard.’ She penciled in both those place names with approximations of where they would be. Her pencil traced a line , left – right – left, and she drew in where the Stately Stables must have been, noting in fine print, ‘yellow cedar’.

‘Right here, Bird,’ she said, tapping the stable area with her pencil, ‘that’s where those “bells in tinkling strands of gold” would be.’ Holly rubbed the lobe of her ear, thinking. The rest of her map needed filling in – how best to do it. She pulled Bird up with her, scuffing the map in the dirt away with her foot. ‘Let’s go find Bethberry, and get her ideas on where the garden might be.’ She looked about for the woman, now standing across the camp from them, near the Elf.

Walking slowly in her direction, hoping to see the healer leave the vicinity of Nardol, Holly chattered on to Bird excitedly. ‘Perhaps later, if we approach him nicely, Gandalf will read us another page from Andreth’s book.’

Bird looked at her in amusement. ‘Yes, and perhaps that flame-headed Elf will ask me to dance!’

[tangerine]

Ó ì og ì ò
A Mhòrag 's na ho rò gheallaidh
Ó ì og ì ò

Hinura quietly sang a few bars to herself, making sure that she had it ready. She had been playing around with this tune for awhile, but had not really thought to use it until her stay at the Trade Inn. After all, the light and merry tunes might arouse the curiousity of a ghost; and the rumour of a great white ship would mean hope to at least some, surely. She was unsure of how the company would go about their task, and she looked doubtfully at the three rods that she had been given.
She shook her head. Never mind. Her duty was to herald their arrival, and draw the attention of the inhabitants so that the other members of her company might speak.

Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh
'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu
baile...

Hinura broke off as she grew increasingly preoccupied about the following evening.

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Of course Aislan would have the job of helping with the horses. She felt comfortable and at ease with such a responsibility. The horses would need company, and not just from their fellow steeds. The hostler knew her job, and would do it to the best of her ability. Her job was not as important as Poppy's was, or even as the good bards'. Even as such, the horses needed somewhere to go...right?

Then Gandalf read from Andreth's book, and randomly selected the page that described the Stables and how to get there. The words of the passage repeated in Aislan's mind, of the cedar stalls and the saddles and the fine bridles and bits. Aislan couldn't imagine what lay inside the castle if the stables were so well built and supplied.

Aislan wondered if anyone would stay in the stables with her. She was distracted though, by the slight tension between Midnight and Rustal, who were grazing nearby. Aislan walked over the both the horses, but was careful with Rustal. She put one hand on each horse's forehead, and whispered gently to Midnight. The horse snorted, and turned his back to Rustal. Aislan smiled and shook her head. The horses acted the same way as some of the people in the company did.

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Maladil bounded the stairs to the dungeon, gliding up two at a time, sword clenched forwards. Seeing the Master of the Castle sweep like a cresting sea-wave of retribution through the corridor past the library to the staircase leading up, the Butler crammed the sheaf of papers he'd earned from Celumëomaryu into a temporary hiding-place and scrambled along behind. In his haste to blurt out a cover story before the conspiracy was all revealed, The Butler scuttled like a cockroach past Kenelm. Overtaking the noble lad, he stuck a flailing elbow through where Kenelm's ribs had once been. *

Father! Save me! Let me out! * Calimiel instinctively raised her right arm to make a fist and beat upon the shimmering, effervescent green cube again. But at the last moment, Anna's firm grip closed around Calimiel's new forearm with the tightness of nails digging deep, drawing blood. Wincing, Calimiel amended her cries. * Save us! Let us out!

* Terrible, bitter laughter welled up from Maladil. * Only the innocent shall be set free, Calimiel. Kenelm tells me that there are two prisoners deserving of their freedom within the cell. That man cowering against the wall would be one. The other has been ensnared with you?

NNOOOO !!! * Celumëomaryu screamed, hoarse and mind curdling. * Anna has joined Calimiel in treachery! Only the Man remains untouched, … and alive, as himself. You must never let them out, for this crime!

* Meanwhile, the Butler tugged at Maladil's sleeves to no avail, muttering: * Pardon me, my Lord … if I may, Master Maladil … a word with you, good Sir …

* Kenelm looked quietly on in the background, gazing from one to another. *

Take your key, Celumëomaryu, and free the Man. He has no place here, and must leave. He is to have safe passage out of the Castle, and off my land. Meanwhile, Calimiel and Anna shall remain in this prison of their own making. * Maladil's voice rose hysterically. * WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, DAUGHTER? WHAT SORT OF FATE DO YOU DESERVE? * Maladil strode through the bars in a flash, slipping his blade Orc Bane lithely between the gaps of rusty iron columns. An inch away from the ethereal flickering cube, he sheathed the sword. * YOU'VE PUT YOURSELVES THERE, THERE YOU'LL STAY. * Wheeling around, Maladil appeared to just suddenly notice the presence of the Butler. * EXPLAIN.

* The Butler fought back a whimper and managed a bow. * Of course, Sir. Apparently, these prisoners, as you call them, have suffered a mishap. Unfortunately now made far more grievous by … * The Butler glanced towards Anna and Calimiel within the gyrating green cube, then discreetly glanced away. * This group of travelling Men had an accident when their wagon left the road, I think. They must have stumbled, injured and weary, onto the grounds of Laurëondo. Celumëomaryu and I, and Anna and Calimiel, sought to nurse them back to health. We had no wish to disturb you, meanwhile, knowing how you feel about unwanted visitors and the importance of your privacy. Alas, several have died, to our great grief. * The Butler hung his head and stood forlorn, with downcast eyes. *

* A rattling of keys announced that Celumëomaryu had unlocked the dungeon door. The sole survivor, agog, eyes bulging, leapt with all his remaining strength towards the door, rushed through it, rushed clean through Celumëomaryu as if she weren't there, and ran for it. Maladil hovered behind at the Man's heels, seeing the mortal safely out the Castle door. *

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[TheLadyAerowen]

Alearindu listened to Gandalf's answers, and then smiled, finally knowing what the three rods were for. She had figured something with the ghosts, but wasn't for sure.

She then got up from her position and went over to Mornen. Alearindu also thought about what Gandalf had said about her own comment about pairing up. 'Even I should accompany someone into that place..' she thought to herself.

Leaning against Mornen, she looked around the camp, and her eyes went to Aislan who was standing by Rustal and Midnight. She was to take the horses to the stables, which Gandalf had just read aloud the directions to them from Andreth's book, and Alearindu hadn't seen anyone volunteer to go with her yet. Alearindu figured she would like to go to the castle's stables and get a feel of what she might be in for, than to walk right into the main hall itself.

Smiling, she walked to where Aislan stood, but strayed a bit away from Rustal, having remembered what he had done earlier with Nardol's command. Instead, she stood by Midnight's shoulder, and nodded at Aislan, then bowed her head, and still smiling, brought up her question;

'I am the Ranger Alearindu, and I heard that you were to take the horses to the stables. I haven't seen anyone volunteer to go with you, and since we are supposed to travel in at least pairs..well, I was wondering if it'd be okay with you, if I accompanied you on your part.'

Alearindu awaited Aislan's answer and began to gently scratch Midnight's neck and withers, and beneathe his mane. She also thought of a back-up plan in case Aislan declined her offer.

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: TheLadyAerowen ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aislan smiled at Alearindu's offer.

'Of course. It would be a handful, to say the least, to take all these horses into the stables alone. Besides, I don't believe Rustal is going anywhere without a fight. I would be grateful for your company,' Aislan kept her eye on Rustal as she spoke.

The great stallion turned his head a little, just enough to keep one large brown eye on Alearindu and Aislan. Rustal snorted and put his head down, as if to take up more grass. Aislan was wary though, and gently moved Alearindu to the right a bit, just in case Rustal was getting any ideas.

'So, we will be going into the stables together?' Alearindu made certain one last time, and went to back to stand by Mornen once Aislan had nodded a yes. Aislan took a few steps to stand near Rustal.

'You better not try anything. You could hurt someone with those strong legs and hoofs of yours. Besides, people wouldn't stay so far away from you if you were a little nicer. Then again I bet that is what you want,' Aislan whispered to Rustal, before backing away near Midnight.

So Aislan would be accopmanied by Alearindu. Aislan was happy, she didn't exactly fancy the idea of going anywhere near the castle, much less on her own with only the horses. Not to say that the horses were bad company. Even the horses needed someone to go along with them to the castle.

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf still held Andreth's book in his hands as the conversation ended. He would keep it safe in a hard leather belt pouch, and yield it up to her as she wished. *

* Gandalf hummed along with Hinura's carefree tune, quietly to himself until she stopped. He sensed her preoccupation ... and shared a certain foreboding, though outwardly maintaining a serene face. *

* Gandalf rose from his log, shaking off loose bits of bark, and strode over to where the hostler Aislan and the young ranger Alearindu were striking up sparks of conversation. He would only need a moment of their time. The wizard beamed a smile of kindly approval at Aislan's way with Midnight. * He's not fully tame, you know. Somehow Midnight's spirit remains unbroken, though he once carried one of the cruellest masters in all Mordor. Now, Midnight walks with us as a free creature. Please, do not tie him, nor even force him into the Stately Stables, should he prefer to take his chances apart from their security.

* Gandalf turned to Alearindu. * Will you consent to serve the company again by continuing on ahead of us, to scout the road against further traps, as before? ... And remember, a ranger's skill does not end when she enters the castle door.

* Gandalf walked on and drew up beside Holly for a moment. * May the company have the favor of drawing on your artistic skill yet again? Should we make good time and arrive at Laurëondo before sunset tomorrow, it would be well if when the shadows grow long around the boundaries of the Castle, you could sketch them.

[*Varda*]

Poppy had felt darkness hanging over her like a vast cloud for many hours now, as she felt Castle Maladil getting nearer and nearer, and although she dared not admit it to anyone, the fear of it grew steadily in her heart. Poppy had no love for anything that wasn’t…properly alive. How was she meant to injure a ghost, should she have to? Looking down at the short dagger by her side, she laughed wryly. She realised she wasn’t even sure what she was going to have to do once she got near the castle, and having to enter alone. With this in mind, she walked over to Gandalf, only a slight limp and pain remaining in her leg.

The wizard was engaged in a conversation with Holly, and so Poppy stood nearby and waited. When the opportunity arose, Poppy reached up and tapped the wizard on the arm. The wizard looked down at the hobbit beside him.

“Er, Gandalf..sir” Poppy started, unsure of what to say, not having had much opportunity to speak to the wizard so far. He was still a daunting figure to her. “I know I’m to take the gold into Castle Maladil, and I’m happy to do that, sir, but...it’s just that...I don’t know what to do when I’m in there. I don’t have any idea what I’m going to see, or what to expect. I’ve never seen a ghost before…” She bit her lip with some uncertainty, and the wizard saw the worry in her face.

[TheLadyAerowen]

Alearindu nodded at Aislan, happy that she accepted. She then noticed Gandalf was walking their way. He looked at Alearindu.

"Will you consent to serve the company again by continuing on ahead of us, to scout the road against further traps, as before? ... And remember, a ranger's skill does not end when she enters the castle door."

She grinned, and nodded. 'Of course I will. I just hope I won't run into..too much trouble.' Alearindu then checked one last time with Aislan, then walked over to Mornen.

She checked his legs and wounds from the first pit-fall. All of the wounds were healing nicely, and were almost completely healed. Alearindu then grabbed her pack, put it on her back, and vaulted onto Mornen. She nodded at Gandalf, then trotted Mornen down the path to the castle.

The company was expected to reach the castle the following evening. Alearindu figured she would go about half-way, then the next morning, scout to the castle.

Mornen cantered and galloped on for a while, and as Alearindu reached a bit before she wanted to turn, the rising sun casted one of its rays off of something black in a pile of straw. Alearindu furrowed her brow, and slowed Mornen. She dismounted and slowly walked to the straw. There seemed to be some kind of contraption of metal beneathe it.

Grabbing a decently long stick, Alearindu poked at the metal, and nothing happened. She frowned and looked at Mornen. 'What can I do?'

As if in answer, he pawed the ground, and unearthed a medium-sized rock. She laughed, and then picked it up and stood a few feet away from the piece of metal, and tossed the rock. It made a clinking noise on the metal, but once again, nothing happened. Alearindu became slightly confused, and decided on one last thing. She found a larger rock and moved a little bit closer, then tossed it. She jumped back and Mornen squealed and went to bolt as the metal clanged shut loudly.

Alearindu walked to Mornen, and quieted him before walking slowly back over to the metal. It turns out that it was a nasty leg-trap made of metal that had rusted. Alearindu picked up the stick that lay near-by again and poked around the straw cautiously, but there were no more leg-traps or anything of the sort. She went back and mounted Mornen, and then continued on.

After a while of galloping and cantering, Alearindu and Mornen found no more traps for about a day of the Company's travel. Alearindu turned Mornen, and headed back for the camp. She double-checked what she had went through before, and once again, found nothing. She slowed Mornen to a trot as the came back to the campsite, and pulled Mornen to a stop where Gandalf was.

Alearindu then reported; 'I found only one set-up. It was an interesting trap. Made for a horses leg, I believe, but, a human or an elf could as easily walked into it, most likely resulting in more injury. It was large, and rusted metal. It wouldn't go off with a stick, nor a medium stone. I had to use a large rock to finally set it off. And even then it snapped loudly and quite cleanly.' Alearindu winced at thinking what would have happened if her or Mornen, or anyone of the Company stepped into it. 'It was a good thing the Sun was shining where it was. Mornen and I just might have missed it.'

[ January 12, 2003: Message edited by: TheLadyAerowen ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh
'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu
baile...

Estelarion's mind had been working over those words for a time, as Hinura's song seemed to have gotten the words lodged in his memory. It was almost as if there were a spell on those words. He thought of his part on the flute for the song they were to play upon approach to the castle.

"Hinura," he said, turning to the silent Bard, "As we are to sing together, do you know the Celaid Myrn? If you do not wish to play with us, we would understand, but I think that your talent would bring us great improvement."

"I believe I have heard of it," Hinura responded, "What are the words again? Menelduliniel, do you think that you could sing a few of the lines?"

"Well, thank you for at least asking the right person," Menelduliniel said, giving a pointed gaze to Estelarion, "For they always ask him for the lyrics, but he cannot sing the words, for they are not only meant for a woman's voice, but he does not know them correctly." Her voice gave a hint of cynicism when she said correctly, as Estelarion had once argued with her over the lyrics, but she had proven him wrong, and had always considered herself the victor of that argument. It was a small victory, but she considered it a victory nonetheless.

I'Ithil hant sílad
Am i'falas
Nîf tín síla na hann lost.
Percarach-en-gell...

Menelduliniel sang the first four bars and turned to Hinura. "It is mostly repetitive after that, with slight variations. Have you heard it? And if you have not, do you think you could play it?"

"I believe I heard it once, some time ago," Hinura said, "It is a beautiful song. And Gandalf was right that it was full of hope, which is a blessing on a journey such as this. I will accompany you in the song."

Menelduliniel smiled, "Firstly, what is Mithrandir not correct about? And secondly, we would be delighted to have to play with us." She turned back to her own thoughts, although obviously more cheery.
Cuil na maer
Cuil na beleg
Cuil na alag...

Menelduliniel hummed to herself as she thought to herself of what was to come...

[Susan Delgado]

Anna watched the Man flee with Maladil close on his heels and nearly howled. She ran toward the green cube’s wall, following as best she could, calling out to Maladil that it wasn’t her fault! It was the Butler and Calumëomaryu! If it weren’t for them, nothing would have happened! Nothing!

He ignored every word she said. As he vanished from sight, she skidded to a halt, but, unused to the inertia of a physical body, she stopped too late and ran headlong into the wall. It vibrated for a moment and closed in a few more inches, as she bounced off and landed in a heap in the middle of the floor. She slowly rose to her feet, rubbing the elbow she’d landed on. What now? She glanced over at Calimiel, standing across the cube, facing the direction Maladil had gone but with her head turned around to watch Anna.

“It’s no good, you know.”

Anna said nothing, only continued to rub her arm.

“If we could get out on our own, we’d have found a way by now.”

Anna shook her head. “There must be a way.”

Calimiel turned completely around to face Anna. “No. Do you think Calumëomaryu would be acting like that if there were?” She pointing over her shoulder to where the Elf was giggling insanely and floating two feet off the floor, apparently without knowing it.

Anna shuddered. They’d never been friends, but at least they’d had respect once. What had happened to her? She shook her head and sighed. Maybe a body would have grounded her. And maybe it wouldn’t have. They’d never know now. She stood in the middle of the cube, thinking. What else could she do?

The Butler glided up to the wall and gestured apologetically. I’m sure he won’t leave you in here forever. You’re mortal now; he wouldn’t let you die here. With a last look over his shoulder, he disappeared out of sight, following Maladil.

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The sweet strains of a song were floating over the camp as Andreth sadly made her way back to where Bird and Holly were seated. Her own thoughts spun back and forth from the conversation she'd had with Nardol to the ominous words that Gandalf had spoken to her. Neither seemed to bode particularly well. She found the two women still waiting on the return of Bethberry who had not yet finished her healing rounds.

Holly arched her eyebrows at Andreth's approach, and glanced quizically over at the red-haired girl. "Why did you have to give the book to Gandalf? Perhaps, we could have found out more from another in our band. He's keeping his hand well hidden."

Andreth nodded in assent. "That's true. I wish he'd share more of the meaning with us. But I didn't know where else to turn. The wizard at least cares what will happen inside those gates.

She went on to try and justify her choice, "Bethberry has more proficiency in the dwarvish tongue, and would find the translation of this book to be a real challenge."

"And the Elf--do not even mention him to me. He is mired in sadness. I have tried without ceasing to break through to him, and I will keep trying, but I think his grief is too great to pay attention to such a trifle as this book, or so he would see it." Andreth wondered whether the Elf could possibly care about anything beyond his own dark tale.

Then she shook her head and went on in a gentler tone, "But I think we should not be so quick to jump on him. The things he has witnessed are beyond my understanding, and perhaps that of anyone in this company. And what is most puzzling to me is why he stays in Middle-earth, since it brings him so much torment. I don't think that even he knows the answer to that."

She smiled sadly at them, "In any case, you two needn't worry that that his particular anger will fall on your heads. Rightly or wrongly, it is the Chidren of Men, my people, whom he blames for his plight."

There was a silence, for suddenly the dark and unknown forest and what lay beyond, so near at hand, made itself felt as a great brooding presence, full of secret purpose. After a while Holly spoke again.

"Did Gandalf tell you anything else of the book, or what will happen inside the Castle or its grounds?"

"Very little." She shook her head. "Only that I bear a greater risk that any by going inside, and it's possible that I may be unable to find my way out. I may indeed be trapped there. But that, if I act bravely and wisely, I can do some good that others would not be able to do."

Andreth looked beseechingly over at Holly. "I'm so sorry. I would like to stay near you and Bird as we approach the Castle, but perhaps you'll feel more comfortable if you don't get too close to me. I tried to ask the Elf for help, but..." Andreth curtly shook her head and tried to compose herself. "He did not respond to my plea."

She drew her head up and said with all the dignity she could muster, "I will understand if you ask me to go my own way."

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Bêthberry]

Finished with checking on Nardol's and Volondil's hurts, Bethberry approached Bird and Holly in time to overhear Andreth's worries.

"Perhaps he might not understand completely himself, Andreth. But let us not make insistent demands on him. He has agreed to come with us; he understands there is a path for him alongside ours. Elrond must have had good reason for sending him; let us remember that. For my part, I would simply bide my time and let him seek me if he wishes, for he knows that I will not refuse his help or aid. And eventually he will learn that it is possible to accept my help without violating his own past."

"As for you, my dear Andreth, you are finding this trip more than you expected, I'm sure, but you should remind yourself that every journey into the unknown is also a journey into one's self. Who do you wish to find there?"

"I will not be entering the castle. I seek something in the herb garden and will go there, come what may. I think the three of us, Holly, Bird and myself, will approach together, around the back perhaps. Do you want to join us? I welcome your presence if you should wish--but perhaps I should not speak for Holly and Bird."

With a raised, questioning eyebrow, Bethberry took a seat beside Holly and invited Andreth to sit beside them as well.

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[piosenniel]

‘Mired in sadness. Now there’s a phrase that fits him well, doesn’t it.’ Bird said nothing at Holly’s words, only glancing up briefly to take in the reaction of the two women who sat with them. The Hobbit pulled a thin, glowing twig from the rim of the fire and lit her pipe, drawing deep on the soothing smoke.

‘Mired . . . and struggling.’ murmured Holly, her words following the exhaled smoke upwards into the heat of the small fire, disappearing into the brightening light of day. ‘Now that is something I would not expect of one of the Firstborn.’ She rubbed along the edge of her jaw with her pipe stem, lost in thought. ‘Struggling, and pushing himself all the deeper into the sucking mire.’

Bird snorted at this image, adding her own comments. ‘Like some dumb sheep gone astray from the herd.’ Holly nudged her, a gentle reminder that they were in politer company at present, though her thoughts had drifted to a similar image. A rueful laugh escaped her and she shook her head to clear away the jarring image of the Elf in quicksand, his struggles availing him naught. Sword at the ready, he fended off each hand raised out to offer him a small step up. A long slow death of what little spirit was left him was all she could see should he continue in such a way.

‘Now that is a sure waste of life’s gifts.’ she spoke to no one in particular, her face touched with a little sadness.

Holly relit her pipe, and looked up at Andreth. ‘If you are going in by the main entrance, with the other of the companions, then I will say we will be parting company.’ She nodded at Bethberry and continued. ‘Bird and I, with Volondil and Olo, are going round back to where the herb gardens will probably be, as will Bethberry. Her concern is with the plants she may find there. Mine is with finding a rear entrance, probably through the kitchen which should be near the garden.’

She put her hand inside her vest and withdrew the map. ‘I have a map here, though I do not know how accurate it is.’ She spread it on the ground for the others to look at. ‘See here where I drew in those descriptions that Gandalf read from your book.’ Her finger traced the path through the east gate to the inner courtyard and south to the stables. ‘This gives us a crude orientation to where the main entrance of the keep must be.’ Her finger swept the blank area to the west and north of the castle. ‘This is the blank we need to fill in. Somewhere here is the garden and some small entrance where we can enter in, while the residents of the castle are preoccupied with the fanfare of their other guests.’

Holly looked up from the map, regarding intently the red haired woman, now crouched down opposite her. Andreth’s fingers traced the crude outlines of the castle, and drew in toward the center of it, as if seeking its heart. Gently picking the map up from the ground, the Hobbit broke the woman’s wool-gathering. Holly refolded the map and stored it safely in her vest.

‘If you wish, you may come with us, Andreth. We would welcome another set of hands, eyes, and ears.’

*********************************************

Child's post

Andreth glanced cautiously about the campsite, and then scooted closer to Holly. The girl leaned over and whispered something into the hobbit's ear, which no one else could hear. Holly looked up and smiled and nodded in agreement.

[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

The dagger of metal at your side, Poppy, will not avail you against the likes of Maladil. Yet the courageous mettle of your spirit shall mayhap pierce through to disarm him, or his kith and kin. And I shall be close by to lend all the aid I may, should you find yourself in difficulty.

What you shall see depends upon how much light there will be to see by. Perhaps Maladil or some of his household will try to communicate with you, with what degree of success I cannot say. For you, as a Hobbit and inexperienced in these matters, are not naturally inclined towards speech with the dead. You may see flickering, transparent forms, you may see objects levitate or seem to move themselves. You may hear muddled or distorted bits of words. Beware of their touch. If you feel a threatening coldness, cry out and I shall fight on your behalf. All you need do as our ambassador, Poppy Took, is to make a present of the sack of gold to the Lord of Laurëondo.

* Gandalf bent down enough to loosely clasp both of Poppy's arms for a moment, and smiled encouragement. In a half whisper he confided, * I believe in you.

* Gandalf straightened again at the approach of Mornen's hoofbeats, then nodded appreciation at Alearindu's report. * Thank you for your fine service to the company. The sun shines its favor upon our road this day. All is now in readiness for us to resume our journey.

* Having cleared away the breakfast kettles, dishes, and mugs, put out the fire, and gathered and stowed their gear, the company took to the road again. They made good progress all that day, stopping in late afternoon to camp one more night before coming in sight of the Castle. *

[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Mithadan]

Nardol rode slumped upon Rustal as if he had been grievously wounded. The preceding night had taken its toll. Many were the nights that he had dreamed of Gilwen's departure, of the attack upon his friends which had driven his wife and son into the West or of the nameless dread of the pits of Angband. But never had such dreams been so vivid. He had felt Gilwen's hand slipping out of his own and the pit of grief that he had fallen into as he stood on the docks of the Grey Havens watching her ship pass into the shadows as the sun set. And what fit had taken him so that he had revealed these innermost thoughts to the girl? He could not bear the thought of her listening, her face full of pity even unto the moment when he had turned away, even then angry at himself.

Silently, he cursed Elrond for having persuaded him to join his path to that of Mithrandir. Lost in these thoughts, he did not notice Bethberry coming up beside him. She had to repeat her query twice before he responded. "Does your wound pain you?" she asked.

Half lost in his reverie still, he whispered, "Yes, they all do."

[Bêthberry]

Hearing Nardol's almost unconscious plea for help, Bethberry quietly put her hand on Rustal's halter, whispered into his ear, and led him away from the group. Nardol hardly noticed. The others looked up at this strange act, but Bethberry merely nodded at them to continue and then looked up at Gandalf, who understood, nodded in return, and calmly led the others forward.

Rustal followed Bethberry's lead into the forest, where the granddaughter of the RiverDaughter sought out a small stream which flowed into the River Baranduin and thence on to the Great Sea. Then, with a firm touch of her hand, the horse suddenly stopped, and Nardol, shaken out of his reverie and surprised by the surroundings, slipped out of the saddle, not quite falling against Bethberry. For the first time, he actually looked straight into her face and caught her eyes.

"Nardol, if ever you wish to join Gilwen and your son, you must find your faith again. Come, there is something you must do." He nodded assent, slowly and warily, but did not reject the woman's direction.

Taking his hand in hers, Bethberry led Nardol to the stream. She sought out some cedar branches and elm twigs and fashioned them into a small craft, a little corrigle, and then handed it to the elf.

"Nardol, you must put your pain in this small boat, walk into the stream, and release the boat. It will sail down the stream, join the river, and sail out into the sea, where it will not be lost but will join the pains of the world. And you will be cleansed."

Still in a slight stupor from his reverie, Nardol numbly nodded his assent. Bethberry walked beside him to the stream's edge and then held back, allowing him privacy to walk on himself, cradling the little makeshift boat in his hands as if it were a small child. He entered the stream and the water rose, above his ankles, above his knees, up to his hips almost, where it touched his hands. His head bowed, he stooped slightly and, trembling throughout his frame, let the boat go. It sat stilly for a minute or two and then caught an underwater current, sailing out farther into the stream and then on, away, until it could no more be seen. Nardol stood in the stream and then, suddenly, knelt down, until he was almost wholly covered in the water.

Bethberry walked out into the stream herself at that point and raised Nardol up. She lifted the leather thong that was around her neck, with the runes of Ranger names on it which Aragorn Estel had bestowed on her earlier at Sarn Ford. Turning it over in her hand, until the symbol of hope, the star, showed on it, she placed it in Nardol's hands.

"Accept this, Nardol, as a discovery of faith; take it as a symbol of hope from he who is Hope itself, that men might triumph over whatever darkness reigns."

Then the two stood quietly, the water of the stream flowing gently around them.

[

[Mithadan]

Nardol probed his psyche like a Man probing a bad tooth and found that while it still ached, it lacked the sharp, eviscerating pain which he had borne previously. His mind was clearer than it had been in nigh unto an age, and he sampled some recent events and interactions with others and winced at the foul temper he had displayed. A single tear trickled from his eye to drop into the river. He turned to Bethberry and bowed gravely.

"It seems I am in your debt," he said with a clear voice. "I know not what manner of art you have used upon me but I thank you, though I am yet to understand the nature and extent of what you have done. I feel as if I do not truly know myself and must rebuild myself anew. But you have at least hauled me to my feet and set me upon my path."

He looked back to the road upon which the others were travelling. For a moment, he considered abandoning the quest. He had been cruel to his companions, if he could call them such, and even to Mithrandir, whom he felt did not deserve such disrespect. Nardol turned towards Bethberry who shook her head. "It would be faint-hearted to abandon those you have travelled with, even if they might deem themselves better off without you," she said with a smile. "Rest here tonight and rejoin them on the morrow. Then gain their respect with deeds and fair words, not apologies."

He bowed gravely to her...

[ January 20, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy flushed with pride as Gandalf bent down and uttered the words ‘I believe in you’ into her ear. She could not recall her parents ever saying such a thing to her, but then, she had never given them a real reason to, spending half her time as far away from home as she could get, ever desiring to see what lay beyond the green borders of the peaceful Shire.

What Gandalf had told her about Maladil comforted her rather less, looking down at what she now considered a useless scrap of metal hanging by her side. Still, who knew what else might lie in wait nearby the castle, as she put her hand on it for reassurance. What Gandalf had described about the castle and it’s inhabitants, however, struck her with a cold eeriness and a shiver went up her spine. A few weeks ago she would have scoffed if anyone had mentioned ghosts, and now she was going to have to see one face to face…if ghosts could really have faces.

At that point in her thoughts, they had had to set off, journeying for the best part of the day before the Castle came in sight, looming before them, old and grey.

[piosenniel]

Holly felt the flutter of wings near her right ear followed by the tiny weight of the jackdaw as it settled in on her shoulder. ‘This has got to be the longest bit of road and the slowest group we’ve ever journeyed with.’ came the small voice near her ear. Bird spread her tail feathers, fluffed out her body with a vigorous shake, and proceeded to pluck at her wing feathers.

‘I don’t suppose you could do that somewhere else, could you?’ asked the Hobbit, turning her head to look at her rider. ‘Your feathers are tickling my ear and I rather mind the birdy lice that you are so bent on grooming off yourself.’ She ran her index finger under Bird’s feet, and set the indignant bird on one of the packs on Peri’s back.

Bird squawked at her and puffed up again, fixing her with a beady black eye. ‘I’ll have you know I have no lice, you ignorant Hobbit! She ran her beak delicately along one of her tail feathers. ‘I am merely getting everything in tip top shape for all the flying around you expect me to do tomorrow.’

Volondil, amused by this entire exchange, offered his finger for a perch and placed the jackdaw on the fold of his cape that lay on his left shoulder. ‘You can ride with me, Bird. I don’t mind.’ Holly rolled her eyes as Bird turned her head toward her. She could swear she saw the black and white bird stick her tongue out.

Bird she noted soon settled in, and spent much of the time making comments on the members of the traveling group into the Ranger’s ear. He tried not to laugh, but a grin spread on his face, and he finally allowed himself an appreciative chuckle. ‘You’ve got a discerning eye, Bird, and a wicked wit.’ she heard him murmur. ‘And a tongue sharper than any blade I’ve ever faced.’ Bird puffed up, taking it for the compliment it was, and chattered on.

Andreth was walking by Holly’s side, her horse Whinney following along behind Peri. The girl seemed distracted and unfocused, growing sadder by the footstep as they walked toward the Castle. Holly called for a halt of her little group and they sat for a few moments on the side of the road, watching the others pass by. She passed out some dried fruit, and taking a long pull on her water bottle, passed it around, too.

A short while later they were on the way again. Volondil this time had gratefully accepted a ride on Whinney. Bird had flown ahead to check on the happenings in the main group, and Olo walked in front of Andreth’s horse with Peri, staff in hand, keeping an eye out on the trees to either side of the road.

Holly hooked her arm through Andreth’s and talked about the area they were passing through, describing it in artist’s terms – the color, texture, shadings of the landscape as they passed it by. Andreth listened to the soothing chatter of the Hobbit. And soon fell to talking with Holly on all sorts of trivial artistic considerations. Her face brightened a little as cares were pushed to the side for a brief while. A small smile creased the Hobbit’s face, as Andreth framed with her hands a small copse of green, shiny leaved shrubs covered with crimson berries, set on a low hillock against the fading light of the day.

Gandalf called a halt for the evening, and Holly and her companions made a small cooking fire for themselves and laid out their bedrolls. Before the light faded completely, Holly change the dressing on Volondil’s side, noting that the wound had healed nicely, and there was no chance of it breaking open with his movements.

Andreth and Olo had started dinner and Bird still flitted in the twilight, among the branches of the trees. Settling down, Holly noted, on a branch with an excellent view of the Ranger and his movements.

Just before bed, as Holly was wiping dry the last of the pots and bowls, Andreth drew near, and sat on a log near her. The silence between them was palpable, and the Hobbit dried the dishes methodically giving the woman time to collect her thoughts.

Andreth’s small voice stretched out like a thin lifeline. ‘It will be alright, won’t it, Holly.’ she whispered.

Holly’s grave face could not be seen in the darkness as she bent to her task. But her voice sent forth what comfort it could. ‘I think it will, Andreth. Stick by us, and we’ll see you through.’ She piled the last utensil into the waiting compartment of the pack.

‘Best we go to bed now, get some sleep. Tomorrow will prove a long day, I’m sure.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth sighed and thanked Holly as she trundled off to bed. Holly seemed to know a great deal more than she did about life on the road, and the dangers that could beset them. Yes, she would stay close beside her and Bird as they approached the Castle.

Andreth was gradually getting used to Bird's witty ways, even though the shapechanger continued to fix a suspicious eye on her. Still, at least three times that afternoon, she had found herself giggling over something Bird had said or done. Bird had a peculiar way of looking at things, but Andreth was convinced that, deep down, her heart was true as gold.

Now, if only the same could be said about the residents of the Castle.... Some of her dreams had brought disturbing hints of evil, something of which she had little direct knowledge. At least not the kind of darkness that put shivers down your spine. But then, what could she do but try? If everyone pulled back because they were afraid, nothing would ever change. It was probably better to plunge onward, uncertain and frightened as she was, than to refuse to try and do something to help.

With these hopeful thoughts in mind, she finally fell asleep.

[ January 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Volondil, having taken the first watch, gazed out past the small red fire relaxing under a softening dew, into a misty glade of fireflies twinkling shared golden embers of silent night-song. A sudden chorus of crunching twigs, ragged breathing, guttural muttering, and stumbling steps broke the harmony. Volondil stood bolt upright against a clutching twinge of pain in his side, drew his weapon and bent into an agile, ready stance. *

* A lone Man-form staggered heedless at a half run into camp, steeped in shadow but for where the fire's flames cast their alert glare into his contorted face. Bird, who'd been keeping a watch of her own on her favorite Ranger, jabbered an alarm and swooped down at the intruder's head. The loping man twisted away to avoid the jackdaw, and in the darkness tripped over Hinura, waking up the bard but leaving her unhurt. Meanwhile, the stranger pitched face-forward over her into the dirt beyond, grunted, writhed for a moment, and with a final twitch lay still. *

[piosenniel]

‘Bird!’ came the urgent voice of Volondil. ‘Fly swiftly to Gandalf. Bring him here. The Ranger bent over the fallen form, the point of his blade pricking at the side of the intruder’s cheek. There was no response as the tip drew a small line of welling blood.

‘Stay still for a moment, Hinura.’ The Ranger grabbed the figure by one arm and rolled him off the bard, and to his back. It was a man, he now saw. And he lay deathly still, as Volondil crouched down near him and placed his hand on the his chest. ‘He still draws breath.’

The man twitched at the pressure of Volondil’s hand, and moaned low. Turning to his side he drew up into a ball and thrust his arm out as if to ward off some present terror. His lips moved, and his eyes, now opened wide, stared unseeing toward some horror. Volondil bent low over him, seeking to understand the words he repeated in an endless litany.

‘Please . . . no . . .’ he rasped out, his throat raw from the endless chanting of the plea as he ran. He gasped, shuddering. ‘Please . . . no . . .’ He threw his arm up before his face as if to fend off the sight of something. ‘She comes . . . she comes . . .’

[ January 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Belin]

She stood there, and, trying to be calm, she stood as still as she could, although she felt that there was something odd about her feet. Anna was watching her. Calimiel was staring at the walls of the trap in what looked like growing panic.

“My fault?” She moved toward the cube, walking (it seemed to her) more smoothly than she had ever before, and watching the maid’s strange-familiar face carefully. She was once again mistress of her voice, and of her dignity. “My fault, more than yours? I did no more than hope for what you have accomplished. My fault.” She smiled scornfully. “Maladil has the right of it; it’s you, hypocrite. It’s both of you.”

Celumëomaryu grasped the bars of the cell, as well as she could. It was very nearly time for her to be pacing again, and the urge had not been as strong as this for quite some time. If only she could go pace she would know everything…but they might escape. Or they might speak of her. But it was time...No. She had something to say.

“The Butler is wrong, of course. Maladil could not free you if he would. You are not his prisoners, you are mine. But he knows better. He is angry, he is angry, he is with me.” She was smiling. For anybody, let alone Maladil himself, to take her part was a very remarkable thing, and in all her ghostly existence she had not felt so vindicated.

“You underestimate Maladil’s sense of kinship,” answered Anna, palely.

“You underestimate simple logistics,” sneered Celumëomaryu. But her mind was on the library, where she should be walking behind the shelf that had once held her belongings, and where she could no longer go. Fool that she was, could she not have offered him the papers alone?

She turned suddenly. Down the stairs and through the hall. Yes. That, at least. She’d return soon enough, but for now... Celumëomaryu paused. She was forgetting something. She looked over her shoulder... ah, yes. The secret door. With a smirk, she walked past the cube and closed it securely before heading down the stairs.

Only part of her usual route of pacing lay ahead of her, she reflected with a sigh, but after all, perhaps she could speak to the Butler, or to Maladil. One or the other of them could surely help her.

[ January 18, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Bird winged over to Gandalf, who was sleeping under his hat. Grasping the fabric in her beak, she tugged its grey point with a fluttering of wings. * Awake! Volondil tends a swooned stranger! * Bird tarried no longer, but scuttled off as fast as a free-flung gale-driven leaf intent on catching onto a low branch from which to appraise the lay of the land before finally joining it below. *

* Gandalf groggily pulled himself up amid a startled half-snore. Not quite knowing what the situation called for, he grabbed both sword and staff, and lit this last into a soft yellow glow. Having slept in his clothes, his most important pouches remained slung from his belt. *

* Coming up on Volondil and the stranger at a brisk stride, Gandalf overheard the stranger's speech, and nodded a general greeting. * You did well to call me, Volondil. * Tossing his sword within light of the campfire and standing his still-lit staff upright into the ground, Gandalf removed a small silver decanter from a weather-stained pouch and shook the decanter with a slight muttering frown. * Only a few drops of miruvor left, barely half a mouthful. * The wizard placed the potion against the lips of the prone man on the ground. * Drink this. What is your name?

* The man groaned after draining the decanter of the last of its miruvor, but with strengthened, clearer voice. * Thank you. Mat ... Mat Rushlight, of Bree. Must get far away, before they change their minds. * Mat propped himself up on his elbows as if to rise and flee, but Volondil's gentle hand on the gaunt man's chest eased him back down. *

* Gandalf put away the dry decanter, walked over to pick up his sword, and returned, placing the sword within Mat's easy reach. * You'll need a weapon, should you be bent on leaving. Eat first, take some refreshment, then decide your course. * Placing a handful of grapes into a small kettle, Gandalf mashed them, covered them with water, and set it to boil with a hint of maple sugar. Serving the resulting brew to Mat with a bit of bread, they sat in restorative silence for a time. *

* Mat told what he would of his tale, about the wagon surrounded by Orcs, the dungeon in the Castle, the deaths of his kin Wayne, Wes, and Brooke. The unspeakably worse loss of Linea and Edwina, chilling pale figures clutching towards them. The surprising opening of his cell. Gandalf made a point of asking Mat to describe the location of the dungeon. * Up, * had come the reply. At last Mat's words slurred to a stop and his eyes fell closed in sleep, but not before he'd gripped the hilt of the nearby sword, and kept it tucked safe in his balled hand. *

* Gandalf pulled out Andreth's book and flipped through it cover to cover before heaving a sigh of consternation. * Why there's not a single mention of a dungeon in the whole book! But then, several pages are missing. There is, however, half a page here entitled 'Treasury.' * Gandalf read aloud: *

To best defend from thievery,
an armed door-warden stands
without,
to let you in.
To let you out
with open hands
your honesty,
within.

* The wizard then shut the book so hard it boomed. *

* Unable this once to conceal her curiosity, Bird let out an aggrieved * That's all?

* Gandalf nodded, lost in thought, as he picked himself up to trundle back to his bedroll. * A riddle, Bird.

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Celumëomaryu gazed longingly into the library as she passed it, then hesitated on the threshold of the master bedroom, half-in, half-out. At least the Butler was nowhere in sight. Not knowing quite what she wanted to say yet, Celumëomaryu could still back out ... But no, Maladil had sensed her presence and turned from the dark reverie brought on by staring at the shards of Adela's statue of white marble laying where they fell That Night. *

Ai, Celumëomaryu. New woes beset us, but our household shall continue to meet them honorably, in spite of the Valar's cruelty. Calimiel and Anna must bury those travellers who here met an unjust, negelectful end. I will free them from the cube for the purpose of burying the outsiders, though to leave Calimiel and Anna trapped where they stand would be a fate more fitting. Yet honor demands otherwise. But when these two delinquents of my household have finished their grim task, they shall be locked back behind bars until they more properly learn the limits of confining mortality. You hold the keys, I'm told. Come with me, then.

[TheLadyAerowen]

Waking up to a few noises, Alearindu straightened up quickly, and glanced around for Volondil who had been on first watch. She finally found him kneeling over another figure, which appeared to be the size of a man. She watched, staying quiet as Gandalf also walked over to the stranger and asked him his name, also giving him a drink. Her ears also caught the name 'Mat Rushlight' and she thought back. The name didn't sound familiar. Alearindu shrugged and went back into a light sleep.

Waking again a few hours later, Alearindu quickly and quietly packed up her night gear. As she did, the sun began to rise from over the trees. She turned to watch, and grinned. Another scouting trip. And hopefully, this would be the last one until they reached the Castle.

Mornen trotted over to Alearindu and snorted. She patted his neck and nodded to Gandalf when she caught his eye, then vaulted onto his back, and quietly left the camp.

Alearindu cantered Mornen steadily for about an hour on her scouting trip. She hadn't run into anything yet. Just as she was about to turn back towards the company, Mornen stalled and snorted. Alearindu peered forwards, and saw a thin strand of wire, that appeared to be made of metal, directly across the path. It seemed to be about chest high if a man were to walk into it. Alearindu sat on Mornen in a slight bit of confusion, then signlaed Mornen to back up a few paces, which he did quiet willingly. She dismounted him and patted his neck, then walked forward slowly.

She found the wire again, and very gently placed her hand on the line. As she was walking slowly and concentrating, Mornen suddenly let out a shrill whinny. Alearindu winced, and jumped, causing her hand to pull on the wire. She tensed, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. She then followed it until it brought her to one end, and found out the wire was fastened to a nail that seemed to have already been disturbed. She walked to the left-hand side of the trap, and found the exact same scenario. Both ends of the wire and each tree limb looked the exact same.

At first sight, and now, Alearindu thought it had just been to stop and/or cut into a horse or human or elf. But there just had to be more to it than that. It was too simple. Once again, Alearindu searched the left side of the wire, and found it only to be embedded beneath the nail. It didn't seem to trigger anything, but there was only one way to find out.

She walked under the wire to the other side, and placed her sword on the under side of the wire, and then pulled up quickly. The wire snapped and fell to the ground with a slight twang. Alearindu stood in tension as she waited, once again, for something to happen. She sighed softly as nothing did, and decided that it was only a simple trap, though that still didn't seem right. She bagan to walk over to Mornen again, as she heard two similar sounds.

A dagger emerged from the slit, just under where the nail had held the wire, in the tree right next to her, but she was standing to the side, therefore it passed harmlessly by, landing on the ground a few yards away. Another dagger emerged from the other side of the wire, from the other tree, and sliced cleanly through Alearindu's tunic, and grazing her side. Her hand immediately flew to her side and applied pressure to the wound.

After a few moments, when it seemed nothing else was going to happen, Alearindu walked over to Mornen, and opened one of his saddle-bags, producing a bandage. She removed her hand, and lifted her tunic a bit to check the wound. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. She sighed a little, and wrapped the bandage snugly around her waist. She took her water carrier and poured a little onto the hand which she had placed over the wound, and washed the blood from it.

Alearindu then walked back to the two trees, and picked up each dagger. She cleansed the one that had sliced her, and decided to give them to Gandalf when she returned, then placed them in one of Mornen's saddle-bags.

Despite her small injury, Alearindu continued on for an hour more, but found nothing. She had figured that she might be running into a heavier trap-type area as she got closer to the castle, but proved that theory wrong. She had come to the conclusion that the trap she had run into earlier had been for the Orcs to prisoners to bring to the Castle. She felt the cold-feeling grow as she and Mornen drew ever closer to the Castle Maladil. She turned Mornen around, back towards the Company, and signaled him into an easy gallop, not looking back.

They made it back to the camp after a few hours, for Alearindu had let Mornen walk the last twenty minutes to cool him down after their long gallop. Alearindu then signaled him over to Gandalf, and once again, reported;

'I encountered one more set-up on my two hour trip, about half way through. All of these traps are interesting. This one, was a very slim metal wire. After a few observations, I cut one end of it, and nothing immediately happened. But then, two daggers shot out from the trees, underneath where a nial had held the wire in place. The first one went by without any harm, but the second nicked my side.' Alearindu winced and shifted in her saddle, but continued. 'It wasn't deep, I'm fine, it should heal quickly.' Alearindu then opened Mornen's saddle bag, pulled out the two daggers, held them by their blades, and extended them to Gandalf. 'These, are the two daggers. I decided to pick them up and bring them to you. I've looked them over, and they don't look like anything I've ever seen before.'

[Belin]

Honor? Celumëomaryu frowned. Honor was a row of numbers that added up correctly. Honor was knowing what you’d paid and knowing what you deserved. Honor was a matter of resources, consequences, and truth.

Honor required no such thing of her.

But Maladil meant something different. Maladil believed in the forms of the living, and in the preservation of bodies. She trailed after him, considering.

She would not have considered what he wanted of her were he a less valuable ally. But to have Maladil on her side counted for something. And certainly they could be caught if they escaped. She disliked the risk it entailed, and she disliked yet more the idea of seeing Anna freed, of seeing the smirk on her face and the disappearance of the cube.

But there was no need to defy Maladil just yet, and surely there would be some satisfaction in returning them to the cell, would there not? It could be years yet before they “learned the limits of mortality”… or before she would say they had.

“Maladil?” she said, catching up with him. “I hold the keys, it’s true. And I’ll continue to hold them.” Nothing too brash, she reminded herself, not while he’s an ally. “With your permission, of course. Would not I be the most suitable jailor?”

She watched the back of his head for the expected nod as they entered the dungeon again.

[Susan Delgado]

Anna looked up when Maladil and Celumëomaryu entered the room and paused outside the cell. They stood and stared at Anna and Calimiel for several moments before Maladil glided through the bars and stopped before the cube. After a moment, Maladil took up his trusty sword, Orc-Bane, and thrust it into the side of the cube. The walls shimmered and, with a faint pop, vanished. Nobody moved until Maladil turned and nodded to Celumëomaryu where she waited outside. She nodded in return and unlocked the cell. She indicated the two bodies near the far wall.

“Pick them up and follow us.”

Anna and Calimiel glanced at each other. What was going on? Calimiel shrugged and started toward the bodies, but Anna paused long enough to as, “What are we doing with them?”

Celumëomaryu started to say, “That is not your concern,” but partway through, Maladil gestured her silent and said, “As penance for allowing them to die and taking over the bodies of their companions, you are going to bury them.”

Anna considered this, then nodded and joined Calimiel where she stood over the two ex-Men. She didn’t think it would do any good to argue that she had, in fact, tried to save the ones that were still alive when she discovered them, so she didn’t.

The bodies were very heavy, heavier than their new bodies would be able to handle even if they hadn’t been weak from starvation. It was simply a matter of the bodies belonging to men, and Anna and Calimiel being women and smaller. In the end, they had to drag them out of the cell and down the two flights of stairs to the first floor. Very often they had to stop and rest. Servants appeared occasionally and watched, awed at the sudden appearance of living folk when they’d seen naught but fellow ghosts in so many centuries. Along the way, Maladil summoned Tiroedrath, the downstairs door-warden. He’d always struck Anna as a man well versed in keeping secrets.

Eventually, they made it down to the Great Hall and through the door into the corridor. Gratefully, they dropped the bodies and wen into the storage room to pick out shovels. Of course, after they did, they had the added problem of hauling the men while trying to juggle the tools, but fortunately the corridor wasn’t very long and soon they were able to put the Men down to dig the graves.

They approached the door leading outside with trepidation. What would happen now? Would they be allowed to roam free, or would their movements be more restricted?

They dropped the bodies just inside the door and stepped through with their shovels. Immediately both stopped and turned their faces up to the sun. They hadn’t felt its light in so long! For several minutes, they ignored the urging the others were giving them and simply enjoyed the rays. Finally, Celumëomaryu convinced Tiroedrath to start poking them with his sword, and that was annoying, so they stepped out onto the sward and looked for the first time in a long time with living eyes on the orchards and gardens. Calimiel seemed especially moved. She hadn’t seen anything for so long...Anna could only imagine what it must be like to see again after being blind.

“Come on, come on,” Celumëomaryu said impatiently. “Let’s go, bury them so you can get back into your cell.

Anna glanced over at Calimiel, but she was still entranced by the vision and wasn’t paying any attention. Anna shook her head.

“It was hard work carrying those bodies, Celumëomaryu. We have to rest before we can do anything like digging holes.” She threw her shovel down and stretched out full length on the grass to emphasize her point.

Celumëomaryu glanced at Maladil where he waited just inside the Castle but he wasn’t paying attention either and Tiroedrath only shrugged when Celumëomaryu looked at him. With an aggrieved sigh, she said, “Fine. I’ll give you five minutes, then you have to get up and work.”

Anna nodded, remembering how hard it had been to keep track of time when she’d been a ghost, and, indeed, her new living senses told her it must have been nearly an hour later when Celumëomaryu said, “All right, your five minutes is up. Start digging.” Anna nodded and rose to her feet. She and Calimiel started digging in the soft ground near the Castle wall. It was fortunate the ground was soft, for the work would have been hard otherwise. As it was, with the sun shining on their backs and fresh air in their lungs, the digging went swiftly and easily. When they had two graves, shallow but deep enough, they dragged the two bodies in from outside and dropped them in, then packed the dirt around them again. They dropped their shovels and brushed their hands off for a job well done.

They glanced at each other and a thought passed between them, unvoiced and too soft for Celumëomaryu to hear. Quickly, before the Elf could react, they took off running. Anna ran toward the door in the garden wall, just past the Roses, but when she heard Celumëomaryu’s screams and glanced back, she saw that Calimiel was not following but was heading toward the Orchard instead. Well, that was her choice. It was better to be split up, anyway, that way Celumëomaryu would have to choose whom to follow. She’d forgotten about Tiroedrath and was startled when she sensed Calimiel being followed by the guard and the Elf behind herself, and gaining. This wouldn’t do! She tried to put on more speed but found herself slowing instead. She must be more tired than she thought.

She felt Celumëomaryu’s mental blow a moment before it struck her and so was able to erect a shield in time to deflect most of it and rather than kill her as it had intended, it only knocked her off her feet. In an instant, Celumëomaryu was on top of her, trying to strike her with cold ghostly hands, but she was able to twist away at the last moment and regain her feet. She was about to run again when a cry echoed from the direction Calimiel had fled. Anna and Celumëomaryu both looked up and Anna was disgusted to see Calimiel meekly following the door-warden back toward the Castle. How could she?! Well, she wouldn’t be captured so easily! With a cry, she ran toward the wall again, ignoring Celumëomaryu’s screams of rage. She reached the door in the wall a moment before the Elf and pulled it open. Freedom! She ran through the door, toward the distant trees of the forest. Halfway through, she hit a barrier like a wall and bounced inside again. Instantly Celumëomaryu was on her and as the world descended into darkness, she knew no more.

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[piosenniel]

'Who is that?' asked Holly, nudging Bird with her arm. She had watched the scene unfold on the other side of the camp, and wondered who the man might be. She had seen Volondil sheath his blade, and Gandalf approach him with something to eat and drink. What interested her most was that Gandalf had taken Andreth’s book out and consulted it, though the expression on his face after he had read the desired passage was not one of satisfaction.

Bird had changed back into human form and now sat poking at the small campfire, watching as the small sparks flew up into the darkness. Her attention was focused on the flames, and she did not answer. Holly prodded her once again. ‘That man over there, what’s his story? Are we taking him with us. He looks ill.’

‘Oh, him.’ said Bird, turning to look at the Hobbit as if seeing her for the first time. ‘He’s some fellow from Bree who escaped from the castle, apparently. I doubt he’ll want to accompany us back toward it.’ She pointed her stick at Holly, and tapped the sooty end on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Forget about that poor man. Nothing we can do about his situation, and I’m sure Gandalf will send him safely on his way. What we need to be thinking about is what Gandalf read from that girl’s book.’

Holly took the stick from Bird and tossed it in the fire. It flamed up for a moment then broke in two and fell among the coals. ‘And what was that?’

‘It was about the Treasury – the one in the castle.’ Bird looked up at the dark sky as if reading the words there.

‘To best defend from thievery, and armed door-warden stands without, to let you in.’

She paused before repeating the second half.

‘To let you out with open hands your honesty, within.

Holly kicked a burning ember that had come popping out of the fire, back into the pit. She shook her head at Bird, who stood looking at her expectantly. ‘You know I’m a dunderhead at riddles. And this one makes even less sense to me than most. You’re the one who’s good at them. Don’t you have an inkling yet of what it might be?’

‘I’m working on it, Holly. I’m getting there. It’s just not clear quite yet.’

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel and Estelarion only then arose from where they had still been laying. They had both been awake, but they listened to the bustle around them, hoping that they could eavesdrop without the others being aware of their presence.

The conversations continued around them as they crossed over to where Holly and Bird were.

"I’m working on it, Holly. I’m getting there. It’s just not clear quite yet," Bird said as they approached.

"What is not clear?" Estelarion asked, curious.

"Riddles," Holly replied vaguely.

"Do not ask us to solve it," Menelduliniel said, "We are no use with riddles ever. We much prefer to listen than to solve."

Menelduliniel and Estelarion departed, for they knew that the other two would probably want to talk in private for a bit longer.

The two wandered over to Poppy, who was sitting alone at the moment. They sat down on either side of her, and she offered them some food. They obligingly took it and ate rather quickly. Menelduliniel and Estelarion looked over the top of Poppy's head, then looked down at Poppy.

"What have you heard?" Menelduliniel asked her bluntly.

"Have you heard what is going on?" Estelarion continued for Menelduliniel, "We heard that the man is from Bree at some point, but have you heard any other tidings? What brought that disheveled man to join our party? Will he be coming with us? What is his story? Has anyone spoken in front of you of what is going on?"

Both looked curiously and expectantly at the small Hobbit. They both figured that, as she was trust-worthy, she could have heard some of the discussion, as the others would have looser tongues around her.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Calimiel breathed a sigh of relief as Anna stirred from her pale deep swoon into a sitting position. Calimiel spoke. * The sun and its shadows have been weaving their striped way among the bars many hours this day since you ... since outside. Meanwhile, I've saved you some herb-and-apple salad, and we've water enough.

* Calimiel fetched Anna some water in a goblet of carven cherry wood. Calimiel meanwhile held a matching goblet. As for food, Calimiel left Anna to scrounge for it herself from the pile in the middle of the floor where it had been dumped, for there were no plates, no spoons, and certainly no knives to be had in the fastness of their dungeon cell. *

Tell me what happened. Why you surrendered to the door-warden so quickly? What happened after I fell? * Anna understandably was full of questions. *

* Not caring that Celumëomaryu had apparently chosen to haunt the dungeon and hovered near, waiting and listening, Calimiel explained events from her vantage point. *

Well, I couldn't help myself when we ran, Anna ... the orchard so near, the apples and pears ripe, the perfume of the trees drew me to their welcome sight. The sun shone golden on the choicest pear, glinted into my eyes. Bringing back memories of when climbing such trees and spending the afternoon sitting up there, dangling your feet and singing, or swinging from their branches laughing was ... safe.

But it was the hunger overcame me most. I knew Father would win, after all, no matter what you and I could ever think of. So to enjoy even one pear, before he did win, this time ... But Tiroedrath came too soon, speared away the second pear with his sword. Could have sliced off all the fingers on my right hand, if he'd wanted, had Father given permission. Then he put the blade up to my chest, and I knew if I didn't move, that he did have leave to draw blood.

Shortly after you went crashing down at the gate, the Butler came hurrying down all self important-like. He reported to Father that one more body had been left in the cell. And so I was made to bury that one myself, while you just lay there growing pale instead of tan in the sun. At last I was made to carry the shovels back to the storage room, then carry you back inside and up here, needing to stop and rest on the landing of each stairwell.

And now, here we are.

* Anna glanced towards the portion of wall where she'd discovered the switch that worked the secret door. The door was closed up tightly again, leaving no discernible outline of its presence in the wall. *

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Have someone tend to your wound, Alearindu, ... perhaps Bethberry or Holly. For though you bear this minor cut bravely, 'twas deep enough to stain your shirt and seep through your bandage.

* Gandalf accepted the daggers from Alearindu with an appraising look, furrowing his brows and musing aloud as if to himself. *

Why, these weapons might be of Dunlending make, judging by workmanship of hilt and curvature of blade. You found them this morning, Alearindu, and our guest Mat Rushlight of Bree arrived only this past night. The trap hadn't yet been set when he'd come up the road from the Castle. We must be wary then. More wary, as it's been odd that we've had no further Orc raids on our encampments, since the first night out from Sarn Ford.

* Mat Rushlight had woken up and breakfasted ravenously on toast, blackberries, and sweet-spice tea. Having told his tale on stumbling into camp, he preferred to speak little now, though he greeted one and all with a calm "good morning" and thanked the company for its hospitality every now and then. At last he took off northwards on the Greenway, bearing the sword he'd been given. *

* The company took off southwards, and making good time, came within sight of Castle Maladil in middle afternoon. However, Gandalf steered the company away from the side-road to Laurëondo and bade them instead set up camp in a clearing off the main road, to await nightfall. As the sun's rays slanted towards evening but with still enough time to walk back before the evening meal, Gandalf asked Holly to bring her sketch pad and drawing instruments, to accompany him and map the outside boundaries of the Castle grounds. *

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Susan Delgado]

Anna started to get to her feet, but fell back partway up, limbs shaking and head pounding. If this was what it was like to be mortal again...so weak and easily overcome! She huddled on the floor, staying as still as possible, until she thought she could move again. Even then, she didn't attempt standing but crawled across the cell toward the pile of food. She selected an apple and bit into it gratefully. She felt a bit better when it was finished and she rose shakily to her feet, still weak but stronger than before. She sensed Celumëomaryu watching her from just outside the bars and deliberately ignored her. She wasn't going to give the Elf any more of her attention; it simply wasn't worth it, was less than worth it, in fact.

She made her way back to the wall to examine the secret door. She found the switch again, but when she pushed it, the door remained firmly closed. They'd found a way to block it, or had broken the mechanism. She nodded when Calimiel told her she'd already tried that, and sank back down to the floor. She heaved a deep sigh. In all her days, she couldn't remember feeling so defeated. Even the day she'd died hadn't felt this way. At least then she'd still had freedom of a sort. More than this cell gave her, anyway.

"What do we do now?" She asked quietly.

Calimiel shook her head and sat down nearby. "I don't know," She said. She glanced over at Celumëomaryu, who was still watching them. Patience of the immortal, she supposed. "Anna..." She began.

"Yes?" Anna asked when Calimiel didn't continue her thought.

Calimiel had been thinking about the food. "How long do you suppose these bodies will last if they don't get fed?"

Anna glanced over at her friend. "What do you mean?" She asked sharply.

Calimiel indicated the pile of fruit and herbs in the middle of the floor. "That won't last forever, you know. Will the others remember that we need food? They didn't before."

"Before, only a few knew about the prisoners, and now that she's set herself as our guard, she should notice when the food runs out." She indicated Celumëomaryu distastefully.

"But you know how hard it is to keep track of time. What if she only glances closely at the cell once a week? We'd die."

Anna thought about that for a moment, then burst into laughter. Calimiel seemed worried, and also annoyed for not knowing the joke. After several moments, her cries of, "What? What?" got through the noise Anna was making and she was able to calm herself. She began to respond, then glanced over at Celumëomaryu again. The laughter had also attracted the Elf and she had come close to the cell. She was staring at them suspiciously. Anna picked up the apple still on the floor near her hand and through it through the bars. It swished through Celumëomaryu's belly and, with a disgusted snort, she moved farther away, though not as far as before. Anna gestured Calimiel closer and whispered into her ear, "If we die, then what? We're free of this cell! We'll be back in the Castle. But if she realises that, if she hasn't already, she'll make sure we always have lots of food. She'll make it a special point."

Calimiel obviously hadn't thought about it like that. She started at the ceiling for a moment, considering. "Would she have realised it already, on her own?"

"I don't know. She might have; she's very smart. But we won't give her any help."

Calimiel smiled and sat down again. "Let's play a game."

"All right. Something with hands, I suppose. We haven't anything else to use."

Calimiel nodded again and the two quietly began to make rules.

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[piosenniel]

‘Now what does that wizard want?’ Bird perched on the pile of packs that had been stacked hastily against a nearby maple tree, watching Holly sort through her drawing supplies. She flew to the Hobbit’s shoulder peering in the small back pack open in front of her. A sheaf of drawing paper, of no special quality had been, secured within a stiff leather notebook, and a number of charcoal drawing sticks of differing hardness had been placed in the front pocket of the pack, along with a small pen knife to sharpen them to points as needed.

Holly was busy, preparing to go on the mapping expedition with Gandalf. She glanced at the westering sun, and wished the wizard had elected to take Andreth on this fool’s errand of his. Map the cursed castle! She had seen the condition of the Man who had stumbled from it, and here she was heading toward it. And how was she to know that Gandalf would get them back before it got truly dark.

‘The wizard wants to stroll around the castle and map the perimeter.’ Holly stuffed her pockets with round stones from the pouch at the side of the big pack, and secured her sling to her belt. A skin of water and some dried fruit she put in the side pocket of her back pack, along with several tapers and a flint set to light them. Olo had lent her his thick walking stick, and she placed it near the small pack in readiness.

She spied Gandalf coming toward her, his staff in hand, looking ready for their trek. Holly put on her cloak and fastened it at the neck. She flung it back at the shoulders, easing her arms through the straps of her small pack, and picked up the walking stick. She paused as she strode forward to meet him, and turned back to wave to Bird. ‘Now where has she gone off to?’ she wondered, looking up toward the branches of the surrounding trees.

By then Gandalf had met up with her, and they turned their course in the direction of the castle . . .

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy’s eyes widened as the stream of questions poured out.

“I have heard that the man’s name is Mat Rushlight, and that…he came from the castle. I haven’t heard what happened to him there, we can only imagine. I know nothing more, and this only from what I’ve heard around the others. You’d have to ask Gandalf if you wanted to know more, but I doubt you’d get much out of him,” she replied.

“Why do you ask me, anyway? Why do you assume I would know any more than the others?” she asked, suspiciously, her face confused.

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Mat Rushlight! Did you say Mat Rushlight?" Andreth turned to face Poppy. She had paid little attention to the most recent developments, and had not heard the name before.

Poppy looked over, "Yes, that's his name. Do you know him?"

"J-just a little. He is a Breelander. I have heard of him before. He hails from my home county."

Andreth felt a chill run through her heart. Who were these villains to do such a thing to a man who had done no particular harm to anyone? And why had they settled on someone from Bree? If someone was keeping an eye on her home region, perhaps they had seen others in the area as well. That thought made her strangely nervous.

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Both Elves looked at each other, startled. The Hobbit's suspicious nature surprised them both immensely.

"Well," Menelduliniel said, "People seem to trust you. We trust you to tell us the truth and others trust you to hear the truth."

She looked at Estelarion, who nodded in confirmation of her statement. They both returned to the Hobbit, hoping that Poppy would be satisfied with this answer. It was the truth after all. They saw no reason why this answer should offend her, either.

[Bêthberry]

While the others were setting up camp for the night, Bethberry strolled over to Alearindu, to check upon the dagger wound. Gandalf had been right; the wound was not deep and luckily for Alearindu, the days' journey had not disturbed the dressing nor brought forth new bleeding.

"It looks well, no strange swelling, no tender flesh, no new bleeding. Does it pain you much?" she asked Alearindu, who smiled calmly and denied any difficulties. Bethberry treated the cut with more herbal tincture and changed the dressing, satisfied it was healing well.

A few words later, Bethberry retreated to the campfire where she watched Holly and Gandalf prepare for their observation of the Castle. She was happy that no one observed her own stiff side and somewhat laboured breathing. She had not been able to warm herself by the campfire last night after returning from the stream where she had watched Nardol through his healing ritual. Nor had the exertions of the day warmed her any further.

And now by the fire she felt her bones still cold from the stream despite the feverish sweat breaking out on her brow and around her neck. Breathing brought a sharp pain in her side, and no sense of fresh air in her lungs. She shivered and wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, moving closer still to the fire and taking with thanks a cup of the spiced tea which Andreth had prepared. She felt weak and for the first time began to feel that she would fail this mission.

The secrets of the herb garden might yet remain lost in the ages past if she could not shake off this illness. "Perhaps," Bethberry thought to herself, "my role this journey was never to achieve the garden. Perhaps I have accomplished what was meant to be, to show Nardol a way to whatever healing he might be able to find."

Bethberry drifted off to a kind of wakeful doze, overcome by the fever which was coming on.

[ January 23, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy sighed, and relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” she said regretfully. “Only, this journey has involved a lot of new experiences for me, and…I don’t know, if I’m to see Maladil himself, and hearing the state that man was in…it just makes me nervous. I didn’t mean to be suspicious, I know you were just asking.” Her clear blue eyes showed sincerity, and the elves nodded.

Poppy watched Andreth’s startled reaction. Had she known the man well? Poppy inwardly sighed with confusion before she turned back to Menelduliniel and Estelarion, leaving the girl to mull over her thoughts.

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion noted the startled reaction as well, and silently wondered what connection Andreth had to this man and the town of Bree. It seemed that everyone had connections to some horrific event in these times...these dark, morose times.

Yet Poppy still possessed those innocent eyes. How could her eyes stay that innocent? Was the Shire really such a beautiful, peaceful place? It was hard to imagine a place untouched by horrors now.

But she was not purely innocent. She made that apparent with her mistrust of their motivations when they asked her of what she had heard. What was her task here? Mithrandir would only brought the innocent and the nearly-innocent into situations such as these when they had a mission or destiny to fulfill. He would not take unnecessary chances with beautiful people, such as Poppy. What could her mission be? Or was there no mission, it was just her destiny to see these atrocities. Maybe that was all there was to it: she just had to see the horrors of the world and report back to her people, in the hopes of saving them once the bleak world entered the Shire, as it was bound to.

But Poppy said she was not sure she would see this "Maladil". What could she be doing now? Was she to break off onto her own mission?

Questions, all Estelarion knew was questions. He had no answers to anything and, even after hearing about this Breelander, he only had more questions, not fewer.

~*~*~*~

Menelduliniel saw Estelarion's eyes go to a distant place. She always wondered what he thought of when he left this world, as he tended to do.

She turned back to Poppy.

"I do hope we depart soon," Menelduliniel said, "For we are losing time."

"Time for what?" Poppy asked.

"I-I...I do not rightly know," Menelduliniel said, furrowing her brow a bit, "Mithrandir is so secretive about the details of these missions of his, I never know what is going on until the quest is over and I have time to sort out what just happened. I have learned not to ask too many questions. Questions only trouble an already-troubled mind. And Mithrandir is certainly troubled. I do not know how he survives. He carries so much weight in his mind, yet he still manages to be so jovial. He always has a riddle for the complex mind and a smile for the unsteady, assuring all that he is in control."

Menelduliniel looked at Poppy, who had listened silently. The Hobbit merely nodded and smiled.

"You have traveled with Gandalf before, yes?" Poppy asked.

"Yes," Menelduliniel admitted, "A few times."

She smiled and turned, deciding that Estelarion had enough time to ponder whatever he was thinking of. Sure enough, just as she turned, Estelarion gave a small jerk, as if awaking from a dream.

"Welcome to Middle Earth," Menelduliniel greeted him in a joking voice, "I do hope that your returning journey was a pleasant one."

"It was," Estelarion said, playing along, "A fairly short one too, luckily."

"Where did you travel, my friend?" Menelduliniel asked, although she already knew how he would respond. He never told her what he thought.

"That is for me to know and for you to...never find out, if all goes well," Estelarion said, shrugging.

Menelduliniel rolled her eyes and turned to Poppy who had giggled a bit at the Elves' antics.

"If he ever trusts you enough to tell you where his mind goes when he does that, do be sure to break your dependable confidence and tell me, for I cannot figure out what he is thinking," Menelduliniel asked Poppy.

"Do not worry," Poppy responded, feigning complete honesty, "I shall."

"I swear you women tell each other everything," Estelarion said dejectedly, "You leave nothing to secrecy when you are with your own gender."

"And that is how we enjoy keeping it, my love," Menelduliniel said, both of them sharing a bit of a laugh.

[*Varda*]

Poppy answered Menelduliniel, appearing to be completely honest, but inside feeling differently. It was hardly her job to report to the members of the party what was going on, was it? And inside she felt that if she told the two Elves everything she heard, it just wouldn’t be right. If Gandalf wished to keep things to himself, it was his decision. It was tedious getting straight information out of him, but it was his choice.

Poppy hid her thoughts and laughed along with Menelduliniel at Estelarion’s view of them.

“We’re getting nearer, aren’t we?” she sighed. “Starting off at the Inn seems to have been so long ago, only a memory.”

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel gestured around her as she spoke, "But this is a vast world. Who can tell if we are nearing the Castle? Yes, though, it has been quite a while since we departed from that cozy, secure inn. And I imagine we are getting close. People seem to be a bit edgier. No, not edgier...more worried. It seems that more is going on now than we are aware of. Mithrandir is probably plotting something, as he is always doing so. This new Breelander also sees to have many people on edge."

Menelduliniel looked at the camp. Although almost everyone was trying to feign merriment, it was obvious that everyone was on edge, and many were worried nearly beyond sanity. She hoped that they would get moving soon, as she did not think she could take that tension for much longer without losing her mind.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Deep fluted calls of minstrel thrushes against a backdrop of trees content to keep silent gave way to the breezier tinkling notes of larks as Gandalf and Holly's path forked down the side road from close forest to open field. The closer they came to Castle Maladil, the more they saw healthy tall grasses weaving proudly under the wind's touch dissolve into brittle brown stubble, still tall, but hollow and mocking, or mourning, or just given up. Elegant delicate larks were replaced by struggling hardy sparrows, until finally only the presence of a stray cricket could be detected. After that, the sound of the wind alone, shuddering through the dead grass. *

* Gandalf strode on as though he saw or felt not the path, so intent was he on listening to the deepening silence. Holly strode alongside, sketchpad and ink-laden quill wielded as though they were shield and key. *

Remember now, * Gandalf said where the path became overgrown, * We'll be mapping not the perimeter of the buildings themselves, but the perimeter as outlined by where the farthest shadows fall, from wall or tower. For 'tis said that some of the castle ghosts have been seen walking over the castle grounds to this boundary of shadow, and never further. Thus Holly, you will mark the limits of our safety. Good to know, though we shall cross those limits soon enough.

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

Kenelm had fled the dungeons, to the privacy of the gardens. He sighed as he took a seat on a weary stone bench, running a finger along the surface of the mithril harp, yet feeling nothing. He played a song slowly on the instrument, softly murmuring to the wind. It answered back in a low howl, telling him that there were living people nearing the Castle, trespassing upon his father's land. Kenelm half-wondered if Maladil had heard the message the wind had brought, as well, but supposed he was already busy in his own matters. He stopped plucking the old strings, and stared blankly ahead of him, turning his head slightly to see if his ancient, although still sharp elven ears could capture any noise. There was a very faint rustle. Kenelm whispered, hush, my wind ..., and very soon the wind seemed to accept the command. He leant forward, and he was rewarded with an almost inaudible voice.

He silently stood, the wind beginning to pick up, and rustled the dead, hollow grasses, which he disliked, for even if he was dead, he wanted other things to live. He wondered what happened to the lush green grasses, full of flowers, which had wilted long ago as the hope and life of the Castle had wilted. But the stem still remained. Taking a hesitant glance at a slit-like window high above him, where Maladil and the rest probably still were, he stepped out of the gardens, towards the vast castle grounds, his back hunched over, his fair face looking at the lifelessness of the Castle and his hands, clenched upon the treasured harp.

He stood straight, and stopped, peering at whatever was walking along the borders of the grounds timidly. Glancing at the castle, he drew forth. He did not want the intruders to face the wrath of an already enraged Maladil. He walked even closer, until he could see the two more clearly. Kenelm was slightly interested ... an old man with a pointed hat and grey robes, along with a curly-haired child with a quill and parchment. He drew his harp, and played a melody, a mix of anguish and warning, singing the words to the odd couple:

Stuck within stone walls,
lurks a treasure beyond halls,
Thirteen spirits are caught
within a world of naught
To be here forever
to come out never,
is a fate worse than death.

Moss is growing,
the bitter winds blowing,
upon the stone halls,
where Life falls,
O Valinor take us!

By night we were slain
In the Castle our bodies lain,
By day we hide
The Castle inside,
to hold what lies within.

Trapped and wailing,
our years are failing,
the walls may crumble,
the windows stumble,
but We shall all be here.

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[piosenniel]

‘For 'tis said that some of the castle ghosts have been seen walking over the castle grounds to this boundary of shadow, and never further . . .’

Holly peered sideways at the wizard as these words fell from his lips. Not a comforting thought, considering the main objective for the morrow would be entrance into the grounds themselves, and worse yet, the castle.

She chewed on the tip of her quill as she walked along, thinking about this statement. The feathers grew wet and matted as she ran her tongue against them, wondering if the ghosts could ‘only’ walk in the shadows cast by the castle.

‘I suppose we should start then by taking a look at the western side of the castle wall.’ she said, taking the soggy quill from her mouth. ‘There won’t be any shadow there, since what light is left to us will be shining against it as the Sun sets. There shouldn’t be too much shadow either on the north and south sides at this time of day. Last, we can draw the perimeter of the shadow extending from the east side – it should be at its longest.’

She thought for a moment. ‘Which means that tomorrow morning there will be no shadow reaching out to us as we enter the East gate to the castle grounds on that side of the building.’

They walked on, an idea coming into the Hobbit’s busy mind. ‘You know, Gandalf, you’re of a height. Why don’t you boost me up the side of the castle wall there on the west when we arrive? I’ve got some rope here in my pack should we need it. Perhaps my hands and feet can find some purchase on the stone.’

She nodded her head at this idea. ‘Yes, let’s give that a try. I can get a quick look at the layout of the western grounds within the wall and an idea of what lies on the west wall of the castle itself.’

Holly picked up the pace, eager now to see what she might spy out . . .

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Tomorrow morning, Holly? Oh, but none can say where any of us will be by then! For it's tonight after the sun has set when the company will approach the Castle and face Maladil. Yet the ghosts' movements will still be bound within the limits set by the farthest shadows that fall during daylight hours. Yes, I'll be glad to lift you as near the top of the wall as I may. In centuries past a rope would have proved useful. Now the wall crumbles so that it cannot be trusted to hold a rope fast. But the crumbling has provided handholds and footholds, as though waiting for light and nimble Hobbit-folk.

* So saying, Gandalf smiled encouragement and effortlessly boosted Holly slightly more than six feet. *

* From there, the Hobbit shinnied atop the 10-foot wall. Before her gaze lay an orchard. Carefully tended trees were beleaguered by bleak beige straw. Dead grass skewed here, towered there, mangled and bent where burdens had been dragged to three freshly dug graves. Two sets of footsteps inlaid the brownsward, veering off towards a pear tree, towards a gate. Set into the back castle wall were two entrances, each near a corner of the castle, yet not at the very corner. Between these entrances directly next to the back castle wall stood a vegetable garden long gone to seed. Holly was not able to see around to the side grounds of the castle from this particular vantage point. *

* Then her eyes widened. Hovering just above the weather-beaten stone bench in the center of the withered garden, gleaming in the falling sun, hung a silver-hued harp suspended in mid air. The strings moved as if by themselves. *

* A melancholy tune scattered thin to mingle with a murmur of nearby birch trees. Holly could only hear intermittent bits and pieces. * … "lurks a treasure beyond halls … , to come out never, … O Valinor take us! … By night we were slain … The Castle inside, … Trapped and wailing, …"

* Gandalf, unable to see over the wall but hearing the song in its entirety, lit the end of his staff and held it aloft, so that its circular glow could just be seen over the top of the wall. Lighting next a bowl of Southern Star, the wizard inhaled deeply and sent up within the frame of light a smoke ring shaped like The White Tree, Telperion, as it used to shine in Valinor. He then did likewise to create a likeness of its companion tree, The Song of Gold, Laurelin, and send this second image along with the first as a message to the harpist. *

[The Fifth]

Kenelm saw the hobbit's head peeping over the wall, staring wide-eyed as if she had seen a ... ghost. He stopped playing the harp; to the halfling it appeared the instrument stopped plucking its own strings. He stood up when he could see a glimmer of light coming from the wooden staff being held over the wall, then stood; to the hobbit it appeared the harp shifted upward in the air. The Ghost cautiously stepped towards the wall; to the hobbit it appeared the harp was floating forward, to her.

Looking up, he gazed upon the sign, first the silver Tree of the Moon, then next the golden Tree of the Sun. Though knowing that he could just walk through the wall and see the stranger up close, he stay put behind the wall, and sung in the language of elves, playing the harp to accompany it:

Pella i ailin,
orta Eldarinwa elen
I minya ana orta,
I minya ana lanta.

Pella alcar ëar,
nén mi litsë,
I mornië nornoro,
Ar lëo nornoro.
Imbë atta aldar,
I Anar ar i Isil,
Eldarinwa elen
orta.


He stopped, then seemed to wait for a reply from the wall-person.

[piosenniel]

It wasn’t an Elven star which rose between the two trees. It was Holly, entranced by the music and the fair voice, who now stood up on the crumbling west wall of the castle grounds. Her eyes opened wide and she reached toward the harp as if to bring the music closer. So lovely, yet so faint was the voice which reached her ears.

She leaned in closer to hear the words. 'This must be one of the ghosts!’ she murmured to herself, putting pen to paper. ‘I would put down these words, so melancholy . . .’ She began to sketch the orchard, its long shadowed fingers stretching eastward. Above the branches she wrote the words as they hung in the air against the rising moon.

Her feet moved closer to the inner edge of the wall. A mistake on her part, but understandable. The music drew her on.

She fell with a sharp intake of breath, landing in the tangles of the long abandoned vegetable garden. So silent in the shadow of the crumbling wall. Faintly she heard the voice of Gandalf beyond the wall.

Her pack had fallen beneath her, and a small voice called out. ‘Neek – Breek!’ She struggled up onto her extended arms. ‘Get off me, Holly! Let me out!’ Bird crawled from beneath the pack’s flap, and wriggled her antennae at the downed Hobbit.

‘Well, Holly. This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.’

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[The Fifth]

Again the music halted as the player grew startled. The hobbit had fallen just next to him. But what was this? A small insect had crawled out, and Kenelm wondered if he heard it speak. Slowly, the spirit moved forwards, hugging the harp against his chest with one arm and reaching another towards the halfling, who so tempted his awakening curiousity. Kenelm knelt down, only a few inches away from the hobbit.

Holly must had seen him now, although he appeared faint; a fair and angelic elven being, with sad eyes and curtain of golden hair curled up on the floor, harp in arms, softly touching the hobbit's pack, and the strange neekerbreeker.

The ghost peered at the paper, the sketch of the orchard. He carefully lifted it up, and studied it a moment, before setting it next to the hobbit.

Kenelm murmured softly, 'Who are you ... and what do you seek .. ?' He drew back, looking at the ground, and the old tiles that crumbled apart, sprouting dead grasses and small bugs that crawled about. 'And who .. is the man with the staff?'

[piosenniel]

'Who are you ... and what do you seek .. ?' He drew back, looking at the ground, and the old tiles that crumbled apart, sprouting dead grasses and small bugs that crawled about. 'And who .. is the man with the staff?'

Holly could only make out part of his words, and then only if he looked straight at her, so that she could watch his mouth move as he spoke. He was beautiful. She reached out her hand to touch the side of his face, feeling only a small frisson of coolness as she neared it.

‘You have a lovely voice.’ she said. ‘Sorry to have disturbed your singing.’

Bird crawled up to her collar and now perched very near her ear. ‘Don’t say too much!’ she warned in a low voice. ‘Who knows who he might tell. Wouldn’t want old mad Maladil out here swinging his sword in our faces.’

Unheeding, Holly answered his question in part. ‘I’m Holly. A Hobbit from the Shire.’ She reached for her sketch pad and the drawing charcoal in her pack. ‘Who might you be?’ Her hand began hurriedly sketch him, his evanescent form back lit by moonlight . . .

[Belin]

Celumëomaryu slipped into the Butler's room to wedge the door shut, wondering vaguely where he had disappeared to. She was certain he wouldn't move it. The importance of the punishment of Anna and Calimiel seemed lost on him, but he did understand that Maladil was a bad enemy, and that Maladil wished it.

She walked slowly up the stairs again, finding little eagerness to return to the dungeon that she had made her own. She hoped the Butler would come to talk to her. Maybe there would be a chance at her own library again, at the window with the light that did not warm her but still reminded her of a time when she hadn't needed to watch it. If there was no body, and if she promised to help him with Maladil, perhaps he would prove amenable. She hadn't expected to miss it.

She reached the dungeon, and she stood silently as her prisoners spoke to each other, even when Anna gestured derisively at her. They were speaking, worrying, planning, playing, and she was standing outside watching them as she always had. Nothing had changed.

Nothing would ever change.

She did not move. She wondered briefly whether another attempt to mutilate the bodies would make any difference and decided against it, for the moment. It would simply seem petty to attack them for playing. After all, it was they who were imprisoned, and it was she who was free...

She sighed slightly, a sound that nobody would have heard even had a stranger and far more startling sound come from outside.

[The Fifth]

Kenelm gazed up at the hand as it moved to touch him, and he shifted to the right, setting his precious harp on the ground with a small noise. He sat down, fingertips picking slightly at the old floor. Hearing the quiet voice of the odd insect, he sighed, 'I do not intend on telling others ... unless you intend on plundering or destroying ... and do not say such things of my father ... he is busy in his own matters ...' Kenelm went silent for a while, setting a hand on the instrument.

He scooted slightly forward as the halfling's hand went away from him, then took out the pad of paper and charcoal, tilting his head slightly. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his hands on them.

'I ... I am Kenelm ...' he spoke, his voice jumping as if he were losing hold of speech. The Ghost looked towards the narrow window high above, and hearing no shrieking, appeared relieved. The moon was nearing its fullness, filling the almost hollow form of Kenelm with its light, making him seem to glow with a silver beauty. The stars were, however, clouded over.

[piosenniel]

Bird twitched her antennae in irritation. Ghosts were as insufferable as Elves! Holly sat there entranced by his moony beauty. Damn the artist in her, she was trying to sketch him as he spoke to her! Bird glanced up at the dark window above them, and a chill passed through her.

She launched herself in a high arc from the Hobbit’s shoulder, her form changing to that of a small black and white bird. Over the wall she flew to where the wizard stood, useless as usual in her opinion. She landed with a squawk on the tip of his staff, fixing him with her beady black eye. ‘Well, Holly’s in there talking to some fair haired ghost with a harp. This was all your idea. How are you going to get her out?’

*********

Holly drew a quick series of charcoal sketches as the moon rose higher to illuminate the area. ‘Plunder and destroy, you say . . .’ she said as her hand moved over the paper. ‘It looks to me as if the castle is already falling down about you, and that you have been already plundered of your most precious treasure.’ He looked at her, his faint brow furrowed.

‘Your life, Kenelm. Someone has plundered it. Who will you inform that time marches through here, a rampant destroyer. And what use is it to lament the loss of a treasure you cannot steal back.’

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

How shall I retrieve Holly from behind the castle wall, you ask? Perhaps my staff will come in handy, dear Bird. * Gandalf smiled and glanced at the jackdaw with gentle humor and an apologetic half-bow. With a supple poised wrist motion he lightly raised the staff on which Bird perched, angling the bottom towards the wall to poke around for secret doors. *

* Skeptically curious to see the outcome of the wizard's search, stifling an instinctive aggrieved call note, the skin changer fluttered up to settle atop Gandalf's hat. The two went the whole length of the back wall. Despite meticulous tapping, rapping, poking, and prodding with the staff, there was not the smallest hint of door or gate, hidden or otherwise, to be found. Bird dug her feet more tightly into folds of grey hat fabric as Gandalf shook his head. She sighed and somehow held her tongue as the old man muttered, "No good breaching the wall, not now." *

* Not giving up, Gandalf turned a corner. Lo and behold, there was a gate a little ways from the corner along the North wall, as plain as the nose on his face! As a matter of fact, the gate stood wide open. Gandalf strode through briskly, catching sight of Holly sketching and the nebulous transparent form of a young Elf-lad. *

* Gandalf nodded a greeting to the Hobbit artist. * How's the drawing coming along, Holly? What a relief you're unhurt from the tumble you took!

* Jostling from the wizard's nodding reminded Bird that staying where she was meant being noticed by ghostly eyes. She took wing again and clearing the castle wall, dipped out of sight. Too late, for the ghost now turned to Gandalf, asking "Why have you brought a crebain to my father's lands?" *

* Gandalf stroked his beard with a frown mild and not unkind. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, no, not at all. He inhaled an aromatic breath of Old Toby, then let the smoke drift up about him until he appeared as cloudy as Kenelm. At last Gandalf smiled an introduction to the noble half-Elven ghost lad. * That's no crebain, but a remarkable bird, a creature of uncommon strength and free-spiritedness. I see you've met my artist here. * He gestured towards Holly with his pipe. * As for me, I had wanted to meet you properly according to the poetic grace of your song, thus ... Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo. Please, call me Gandalf. * The wizard bowed a greeting to Kenelm. *

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

* That's no crebain, but a remarkable bird, a creature of uncommon strength and free-spiritedness. I see you've met my artist here. * He gestured towards Holly with his pipe. * As for me, I had wanted to meet you properly according to the poetic grace of your song, thus ... Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo. Please, call me Gandalf. * The wizard bowed a greeting to Kenelm. *

Kenelm glanced at the bird, but did not seem intent on trusting the odd old man, although the wizard bowed, and with such a polite Elvish greeting, and after staring at Gandalf a moment or to, returned the greeting.

He stood, leaving the harp on the floor, and asked softly, 'Who are you? A friend of this perian, coming here to disturb?' The spirit continued to peet at Gandalf. 'We do not wish to be disrupted ... for we are already enough, as it is ...'

Kenelm picked up the harp, and trailed towards the bench, taking a silent seat upon it, and murmuring a few words as he stared at the floor. He did not like this strange company, and he knew Maladil would not, either. Perhaps we would try to ignore them, make them leave, so that they would be in their twisted peace once more, as it had been for an Age. Yet he desired change, and wondered what it was like to be in Valinor ... but -- no, no, it was far too late for that. He was a ghost, bound to the land like a vassal to his Lord. So he went with the ignoring, and began to play to himself, attempting to rid himself of the two .. but the wizard, he seemed to be a patient one. But he would try. Kenelm swept his fingers deftly along the strings, singing softly of the spring and fall:

'Tall and green
Upwards the trees lean
Leaves full and fair,
a breeze in the air.

Blue birds sing,
their voices ring,
the wind calls free,
upon a hillock's knee,
The glittering of light is seen,
within leaves green,
within Sun's light,
from the fleeing of night.

A breath of cold,
and leaves turn gold,
Trunks frosted with snow,
cold autumn's glow.
Cold skies turn dark,
stiff goes the bark,
Layered with silver sheen,
no longer green,
the trees bend to touch the earth;
for no more is the spring mirth.'

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[Susan Delgado]

Several hours of sitting and not moving much had recovered Anna's strength to nearly what it was when she'd first taken this body, so when she heard Kenelm's lovely voice wafting up from the garden, she had no trouble rising to her feet and approaching the window in the cell. She frowned. This was curious. She couldn't see Kenelm, but that was nothing; his usual perch was on the bench in the old vegeatble garden, not visible from here. But she could see something else: There was a figure in the orchard, no two figures, a small and a large. By the Valar, those were living folk! They didn't belong here! Forgetting for a moment that she was solid, she attempted to float through the wall to investigate. It didn't work, so she did the next best thing.

She glanced back at Calimiel, then beyond her to Celumëomaryu. The Elf was still watching, but perhaps not closely enough. She wandered back to Calimiel and tried as unobtrusively as she could to get her attention. The two returned to the window and watched the living beings for a quiet moment before Celumëomaryu interrupted them. In that moment, they determined that it was an old man and a child. Beyond that, they were lost. Why would an old man and a child come here? Perhaps they were, indeed, lost.

"What are you doing? Get away from there!"
Celumëomaryu, of course. Calimiel looked like she wanted to obey, and after a moment, Anna did too. She'd had enough of those @!$^*# attacks for one day.

Celumëomaryu glanced through the window at the scene below. What would she do?

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* In answer to Kenelm's song, Gandalf spoke the following poem: *

Spring mirth turns into fall harvest
As watching sun changes each leaf
In sameness light sails away West
Dimmed leaves cling to branches in grief
A wind-song at duskfall awakens
Light borrowed shall refresh as rain
The leaves left for lost shall be shaken
And mirth shall spring forth once again.


My voice is not as clear as yours, fair Kenelm. I am called Mithrandir by some, Gandalf by others.

Oh! And I've nearly forgotten ... * Gandalf smiled, reached into a pouch, drew out three of the same metal rods resembling cattails that he handed round to the company, and presented the rods to Kenelm, son of Maladil, holding out the rods in the open, cupped palms of his hands. *

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

'Tall and green ...
Leaves full and fair, ...
their voices ring, ...
The glittering of light ...
cold autumn's glow. ...
Cold skies turn dark, ...
no more is the spring mirth . . .

His voice was beginning to fade for her, and soon she could hear nothing but the sound of Gandalf’s conversation. Her eyes glanced up to where Bird had gone, hoping to catch sight of her friend. But, she could not find her anywhere.

Holly watched as Gandalf dipped into his pouch and gave the rods to the now unseen hands. It was growing darker and she was beginning to grow uneasy as the eastward reaching shadows grew longer. Her eyes swept to the gate on the north side by which the wizard had entered.

Taking her picture of Kenelm and the harp, she placed it carefully on the stone bench, and bowing once, went quickly out the gate. She ran, then, toward the path she and the wizard had come down, her heart pounding. Out of breath, she stopped and leaned against a slender rowan tree, her feet balancing on the out thrust root. She stood there, feeling her heart pound in her chest, as she rethought her desire to enter the castle grounds with the group. ‘Bird!’ she whispered. ‘Where have you gone?’

A single winged seed spun down before her face, fluttering like some child’s toy to the ground. ‘Right here, Holly.’ came the voice from the tree, whispery, like the wind through its leaves. ‘Mind stepping off my root? Feels like you’ve gotten a little heftier!’

The tree shifted, and Holly’s feet slipped from her perch, causing her to tumble unceremoniously into the dirt.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* In one hand Kenelm grasped the thin metal rods as though they were akin to his broken harpstrings, tilting his head at them as they dangled near to falling. Under his arm he secured the mithril harp, while in the other hand he held as a rolled-up scroll the portrait of himself and his cherished instrument that the curly-haired child had drawn. *

* Gandalf glanced after Holly. The Hobbit had disappeared through the gate into an impatient deepening twilight, swallowed by a too-eager silence. The fact that she was moving away from the accursed grounds of Laurëondo did not quiet his sense of foreboding. Gandalf bowed a reluctant farewell. * To use these rods, Kenelm son of Maladil, come out and meet us on our return this very night. Look for us outside the front gate. Best keep our secret, until then.

* Dinner was already half-over, but Bird, Holly and Gandalf each found a portion waiting for them of partridge and mushrooms with strawberries and blackberries on the side. *

* After dinner, Gandalf approached Andreth and drew forth from his pouch her book with its descriptions of the rooms of Laurëondo. * Keep this with you, Andreth. But first let me read another passage:

"GREAT HALL

Pass in Westwards through the Outer Entryway, turn left, then right into the Inner Courtyard. Turn right and walk to the center of the Inner Courtyard. Pass through the Inner Entry to the Great Hall.

The floor is of red marble tile with black borders to complement the walls of golden granite. Dozens of carven mahogony branches spiral upwards like ribbons tied in bows from the arches along the ceiling. From the center of the ceiling hangs a pine-cone shaped chandelier, as tall as an Elf, made of gold with crystal candle-holders. Torches light the walls.

There are two staircases going ... "

* But that was it. The page had been torn in half. Gandalf closed the tome and handed it to Andreth with a careful bow. *

* Then he addressed the assembled group. * The sun has set. It's time. Bards to the front, Hinura, Menelduliniel, Estelarion. Warriors and Rangers, Nardol, Volondil, Alearindu ready your weapons, though make no show of it. Poppy, Andreth, and Nardol towards the front near me, behind the musicians. Alearindu and Aislan in the middle. Volondil guarding in back, with Olo. Holly and Bird where you will, remembering as you may the boundaries of shadow earlier drawn, that you may guide the company up to it but not over ... for now. Horses and ponies, as you decide. And this order we're in can change depending on what we face and where each of us go. Candles and lanterns lit. And we're off to the Castle! Which bard will play and sing first now, to herald our approach?

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[tangerine]

Hinura rose from her long-finished meal, taking her lttle harp out of the protective covering of her bag. The tremble in her hands was so slight only Gandalf may have noticed it, as she gripped the harp tighter, moving towards the front of the group.

She took a long, deep breathe to steady herself, and began, walking forward all the time:

Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n ruidhle bòidheach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n ruidhle bòidheach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta


Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìne a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìne a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Slowing the festive pace, the tune smoothly changed from one into another:

Ó ì og ì ò
A Mhòrag 's na ho rò gheallaidh
Ó ì og ì ò

A Mhòrag bheag a' chùil riomhaich
Dheanainn-sa do chìr a cheannach

A Mhòrag bheag a' chùil dualaich
'S tric do luaidh a' tighinn air m'aire

Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh
'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu baile

An cuimhne leat an oidhche bha sinn
'S a' luing bhàin air bhàrr na mara

An oidhche sin a chaidh ar fuadach
Thànaig a' mhuir mhùr 'na gleannaibh.

Her voice then fell silent, though her harp still played, waiting for Menelduliniel and Estelarion to begin their own music.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion quickly lifted his flute to his mouth and gestured to Menelduliniel. Hinura joined into their Elvish song:

Ir'Ithil hant sílad
Am i'falas
Nîf tín síla na hann lost.
Percarach-en-gell
Na lhach benchaered
Geil sílal dannar
A u-mathin erui
Di i'celaid myrn
A u-mathin erui
U-mathin erui
Be i'celaid myrn
U-mathin erui
Luin a celin
I'amar na o menel
Hall in'duath gala
Di ben uial
Ir'ind lhossar
A i'naergon revia am an i'dhû
A u-mathin erui
Di i'celaid myrn
Sí di i'celaid myrn.

As the hope-filled song drew to a close, Hinura, Menelduliniel, and Estelarion grew silent. Menelduliniel wondered if the song was enough or whether Mithrandir would want them to sing again. She decided that she should remain quiet, however, for Mithrandir would tell them what he desired when the time came.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Bêthberry]

The elven melody hung in the air, echoing almost in rhythm with the bowing of cedar branches in the slight breeze. Bethberry smiled at the three--Estelarion, Hinura, Menelduliniel--for their song had indeed made her feel better, despite her feverishness.

She sipped the remainder of her tea slowly,unable to eat, as Holly came over to her.

"You are in no fit state to accompany us," said the hobbit.

Bethberry nodded. "You have the list of plants I gave you? You know what to look for?"

Holly nodded. "It is packed in amongst my drawings. I won't forget. Thank you for the list. It will help my own healing skills."

"Will you stay here? Can I get you a blanket? I don't like the idea of leaving you alone"

"I'll stay by the fire tonight. Wyrd will watch over me. In early morn, I will return to Sarn Ford. YOu need not worry about me. Wyrd will watch over me tonight and accompany me tomorrow. I will be fine. 'Tis you who must take care, Holly. And Bird. And the others. Watch over Nardol also and be prepared to give him civility at least instead of a sharp tongue."

Holly nodded.

"And one last thing, Holly. The wands which Gandalf distributed. Give mine to Nardol, please. I have not seen him, nor has he spoken to me since the healing ritual, but would like him to have them."

Holly looked as if she would question the request, but a raised eyebrow from Bethberry persuaded her to stop. She wrapped an extra blanket around the Old Forest healer, instead.

"Good-bye. Good luck," replied Bethberry, turning to lay down by the fire and closing her eyes. Out of the woods, without a call, Wyrd flew down to stand beside her. Tomorrow she would start a different path.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Faintly at first came the sound of harps, like clear stars spilling into a soft silver waterfall over tinkling-smooth pebbles. A voice flowing with honey-rich life raised a sprightly dance tune on the wind, propelling the music spinning and wheeling through windows broad-framed and slitted. An air slow and melancholy rippled up next, bidding its hearers remember where fate ought to have carried them in a white ship upon the Western Sea. A flute then joined the harps, and two Elvish voices joined the mortal one to offer its hearers a musical glow of shared light. *

* Anna, Calimiel, and Celumëomaryu heard. The Butler darted hurtling through walls towards the sound approaching the front gate, gasping once outside at the sight of the parading two files of twinkling candles and lanterns. Kenelm heard. For Maladil the music only filtered in as a backdrop for the insane restless rovings of malicious thought that haunted him and so he ignored it or failed to recognize it as anything new. Thus Maladil did not stir from where he'd flung himself brooding atop his bed, unaware or uncaring that he'd sank into what remained of his own shattered dust-laden skeleton. As for Halblung the man-at-arms, Lasrain the gardener, and Tella the cook, they heard, and dashed out to the front gate. *

* Among the approaching company, Menelduliniel, Nardol, and Gandalf could make out a dim white glow of blurred and featureless shapes, just at the edge of sight, phasing in and out, accompanied by a clammy chill. Aislan, Bird, Hinura, and Poppy saw nothing, but noticed a wan chill in the air. *

[Mithadan]

After Bethberry's healing ritual, Nardol had quietly, almost secretively, returned to the company. He had spoken little with anyone and had seemed to have been caught in a deep reverie from the perspective of the others who were generally delighted at his silence.

The events of the day leading up to the company's approach to the Castle had not captured Nardol's attention. He had merely sat near his horse, deep in thought. Asleep, some of the others had thought. But within him, a battle raged with no certain result; memories of his wife and son and their friends, both Elven and Mannish, vied with the pain of torture, betrayal and rejection.

Weariness and hatred of his anger sought to tip over his views of the world around him. And often through this battle, images of Andreth had appeared with her attempts to show him kindness and patience. Aislan showed admiration for Rustal and Olo had cared for the steed's injury without regard for Nardol's rudeness. Nardol bowed his head but the tears would not come.

Gandalf stood over him and cleared his throat. When the Elf looked up, Mithrandir smiled in a kindly fashion and said gently, "It is time."

So he walked with the wizard and the others towards the Castle. He felt, as a wind blowing into his face, the madness that resided there. But in some ways it was not at all different from what lay behind him save perhaps in degree. And he stood in between and shivered...

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked at the shapes, fairly confused at what they were. She looked at Estelarion, who did not seem to see any of the objects she saw. He was looking ahead with a fairly unenthusiastic face.

Menelduliniel looked. A few of the others appeared as though they saw the creatures, whetever they were. Poppy even seemed to see them.

Menelduliniel fell into step with Poppy, as she felt a companionship with this Hobbit on more than one level now...

[piosenniel]

Holly took the rods from Bethberry, and wishing her well one last time, ran to join the others. Bird, Olo, Volondil and Peri were ambling along at the rear of the rag tag procession, waiting for her. She slipped in between Bird and Peri, matching her pace to theirs.

Bird was talking low to the pony as Holly came up. ‘Those Elves and their insuffrable singing are giving me a headache!’ she complained. ‘Why can’t they ever walk along, quiet, like normal folk!’ Peri cast one large brown eye at her and made no comment. Holly poked her in the side with the rods Bethberry had given her and told her to lower her voice. ‘Gandalf asked them to sing,’ she said to the irritated shapechanger, ‘so I suppose it has something to do with our being safer if we go in under cover of song.’

‘Hmmph!’ came the laconic comment from Bird. She looked at the companions in front of her and at the castle looming ahead. ‘I hope you don’t intend to go into that place. I don’t care how much gold or treasure is in there – I didn’t like the looks of the grounds, and I like the looks of the castle even less.’ Holly and Bird had walked back to the encampment apart from Gandalf earlier in the evening, discussing the ill-fated mapping sortie. Neither of them had cared for the encounter with the ghost in the garden, and the figures moving behind the window just above the garden had put the hair up on the backs of their necks.

Bird shook her head as she watched the castle approaching. ‘We’ll go to one of the bigger Inns and run a game there, if we have to. You can do some tinkering, while Olo hires on as a stable hand. Volondil can be my . . . ahem, bodyguard.’ Holly and Olo rolled their eyes at this pronouncement, stifling a chuckle. Perhaps it was just a trick of moonlight and the torches, but the Ranger seemed to blush at the statement. It was Bird’s turn to poke Holly in the arm, and glare at her.

Holly’s attention was drawn to the three rods Bethberry had given her. ‘Shadows take them!' she swore. 'I promised her I’d do this for her.’ Excusing herself from the group, she ran up to the head of the procession, trying not to jostle anyone in her haste. Nardol was there, near Gandalf, and she tugged at his cloak until he stopped. ‘Begging your pardon, Sir Elf,’ she began, looking him directly in the eye, ‘but Bethberry asked me to give these to you. She is ill and won’t be coming with us.’ She did not wait for a reply, but placed the rods in his out stretched hand, and wishing him well, ran quickly back to her companions.

********************

Now they had neared the Castle’s gate. She saw the others preparing to pass in and toward the main door, following the lead of Gandalf. Holly brought her companions to a halt, and motioned them to follow her to the right, northward along the east wall, and then left along the long north wall.

They stayed well beneath the cover of the surrounding trees until they came to the small, open gate just east of the western wall.

Peri they left among the protective covering of the woods. Silent as a ground mist they approached the darkened gate, and looking about, as carefully as they could, they went in toward the garden.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf stopped short where he guessed he remembered the shadow-boundary to be from his earlier mapping expedition with Holly. Motioning for those with him to stop, he raised his staff as light burst from it. * Why, there's only four castle residents here! There ought to be thirteen! This calls for stronger measures ...

* Reaching into an old weather-stained sack, Gandalf took out several tube-shaped cylinders. One he stuck into the ground. Another, he loaded into the first. Bending near, Gandalf touched off a spark against a small hole in the tubing, then ran back out of the way. The company experienced a crackling flash that careened dizzily upwards before exploding overhead: *

http://www.wf.net/~lcrump1/gold140.jpg

* In the Stately Stables, Daerohil the stable lad leapt up from the middle of a haystack of dead brown grasses he'd raked for himself two weeks ago and had been using to play hide-and-seek in ever since ... only no one had come to find him. Until now? Daerohil ran lightly above the ground towards the source of the loud echoing boom. *

* Maladil, ever alert for attacks against his realm, jumped up from his rotten bed with a trembling startle of fury. Grabbing OrcBane from its resting place leaning against the fireplace mantel, he raced sword in hand to the castle door and stood therein. For his own curse held him faster than the others, keeping him trapped within the building so he could not take a single step outside onto the surrounding grounds. Maladil scowled at the combined light of staff, candle, and lantern assembled before him. *

* The man-at-arms Guilin came forth. And Tiroedrath, the door-warden, left his post upstairs outside the dungeon to come out and see what might befall. *

* Gandalf counted again. Eight, which left five ghosts missing. Well, perhaps they were on their way. Meanwhile, the rods and more music might attract some of these eight closer ... Gandalf addressed the company with these words: *

Each of you, light the tip of one of your rods with the flame of a candle. Like this, watch me! Could Menelduliniel and Estelarion could provide another song, with Hinura accompanying them?

* Gandalf used his staff rather than a candle, and soon the rod crackled like a miniature firework on a stick, sending a harmless color of golden sparks out like a small tree of light. The wizard looked around for Kenelm, wondering if he'd come. *

* Various members of the company busied themselves with the lighting of rods. Poppy Took, who held no candle, lantern, nor any rods, clung tightly onto the sack of gold entrusted to her. *

* The black war steed Midnight backed several paces away from the group, watching warily and wide-eyed, looking in the direction he'd seen Peri go. *

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aislan waited a moment to light her glow rod, and watched as much of the company lit the rods with a candle. As they glowed, popped and sparked, Aislan noticed that a few of the sparkler holders were tempted to wave the rods around in the air.

Aislan hesitated though, as she noticed Midnight backing away from the group. Hoping not to scare him any further, she refrained from lighting one of her glow sticks. Aislan slowly walked to where Midnight stared wide-eyed at the sky. The last sparks of the bright display were falling.

"Afraid of a little light, Midnight?" Aislan whispered to the war steed as she came to stand next to him. The horse neighed softly in reply. "Just a little fireworks."

Aislan slowly pat Midnight on the forehead, and cautiously laid her other arm around the horse's neck. She hoped the steed would not think her movements hostile. Midnight only grunted, and moved his head in the direction where Peri had been left.

"You're braver than that," Aislan muttered as the horse and human wandered back towards the group.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth shuddered in the cold night air, and drew her cloak more firmly about her shoulders. Her hand was wrapped tightly about her lighted wand, but she had remembered to bring along several other things. Her family's book was hidden beneath her sash, along with a bottle of water, a few scraps of food, a small silver dagger, and a tiny embroidered piece along with needle and floss that she'd been working on earlier that day.

The girl had watched with disappointment as Bethberry became ill, choosing to leave their group and find her own way on separate forest paths. But, now, as the band drew closer to the Castle, Andreth had suddenly felt strangely light-headed. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, wondering if she would soon take sick. But there was no hint of fever or chills, only a curious sensation that everything about her was not quite right.

When they stood under the wall that surrounded the grounds, Andreth gently extended her fingers towards the old stonework, cleary a thing of great beauty that was now but a half-crumbled ruin. How lovely this place must have been when Maladil and his bride had first made it their home. How much hope must have dwelled here!

The stone felt cold and rough under her fingertips as she stood and stroked it, feeling its texture with the experienced hand of an artisan. Then something happened that Andreth had not expected, and which she certainly could not explain. Her hand was gliding harmlessly along the worn surface of the wall, when suddenly the stone itself seemed to flicker and melt. Her fingertips sunk into the stonework at least an inch or two, much to her shock and dismay. Hastily, she wrenched back her arm, and stared down at her hand, which now appeared to be completely normal.

Her heart pounded rapidly, as she again reached out to feel the exterior of the wall. Only this time, everything seemed perfectly normal. Andreth tried to hide the look of alarm on her face, and wondered if any of the others had just seen what had happened to her, or if they were also beginning to have problems of their own. She could tell that several in the group were nervous and excited, but no one except herself seemed the least bit concerned about the wall.

Forcing her eyes and hands away from the wall, Andreth stared off into the Castle grounds, and, much to her surprise, saw the perfectly clear outline of eight separate ghosts. They were as distinct and vivid as people standing directly in front of her would be. She could see every curve of their skeleton-like bodies, every article of clothing they wore.

Becoming even more alarmed, Andreth tugged hard at Poppy's dress. "Can you see that?" She pointed to the figure standing closest to them and began giving an intricate description of his waistcoat and breeches to the hobbit. Poppy turned around and gave her a very strange look. Perhaps, mused Andreth, I am becoming ill! For, the next time she glanced out and stared across the lawn, the only thing she could see was a series of indistinct lights. All the ghosts, their clothing and weapons and the other things they were carrying, seemed to have totally disappeared.

The girl felt a wave of nausea and disbelief come flooding over her. She reached out with trembling hand to grip the edge of the wall, in an effort to clear her head and keep upright on her feet. But it was all to no avail. Andreth felt her knees give way as she slid helplessly to the ground, while everything around her went grey and hazy. The last thing she recalled before unconsciousness set in was wondering if Kenelm and his sister were among the eight ghosts she'd seen.

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel nodded to Estelarion, who began again, Hinura soon accompanying, as she seemed to know the song.

Ir i'Ithil erin fuin fanui
Síllant or i'cew en yrn dol
Nîn linnedh eraid erib
Echadedh guren dringo bell an avorn
Si istin raden bar nîn na vedui
Le ones nîn rama en thoron
A im gwilathon aen ar linathon aen
Ar ae im gimen i'hûl aew fuin
An i'eryn im gwilen
Ar ned i'fuin raden le an.
Ar yassen meleth vín u-na niben.
U-naid thinid u-methed
Be i’Ithil an i’aeron
Libid vín nai mîn, huin vín nai mîn
Darithon hwest en Ithil o le.

Menelduliniel finished lighting her rods as she concluded the song. She whispered to Estelarion, "Shall we sing again?"

"Let us wait and see what Mithrandir desires," Estelarion whispered back.

"What are those things?" Menelduliniel finally asked of the spirits.

"What?" Estelarion said, completely without knowledge of these beings. Menelduliniel dropped the subject and turned to Mithrandir.

"Mithrandir?" Menelduliniel asked, "What shall we do? What is the plan for us? What exactly are we to do?"

[piosenniel]

‘Hurry up!’ whispered Holly to the others. She ran quickly to where she remembered the garden to be. There was the stone bench, but now no harp hovered over it. And above in the wall of the castle was the window she had seen the shadows move in. It was all dark now, and nothing appeared to move behind the recess of its frame.

The fireworks flew up at the front of the castle. Gandalf at work, drawing the castle’s residents to him. Olo lit a hooded lantern and set it on the stone bench, its soft, subdued light directed on the tangle of the former garden. He took out the small cones of paper he had made for just this and handed them one at a time to Holly, as they searched through the plants now gone to seed. There were herbs grown round the borders of the vegetable garden, growing thick, like wild weeds.

The Hobbit recited quietly to herself the litany of plants that Bethberry had given her. A quill tucked behind her ear, she inspected the plants she found and plucked the seed pods from them or shook the seeds into the opening to the cone. Twisting shut the cone, she wrote a few letters on it, indicating what plant it was.

Volondil stood watch from the perimeter of the garden, while Bird flew to the roof of the castle. An ideal vantage point in her estimation. She could keep an eye on her friends,and watch the fireworks as they lit the night.

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy, clinging tightly to the sack of gold she held in her hands, looked at the eight wispy shapes not far ahead of her. Feeling a tug on her dress next to her, she turned and saw Andreth, a look of fear across her face.

As she pointed, describing a figure nearby, Poppy peered into the distance, seeing nothing. What was the girl talking about? But in that moment, Andreth fell to the ground, unconscious.

“Gandalf!” Poppy cried, before kneeling next to her, putting the gold beside her. Andreth’s face was pale, what had she seen? What was this place going to do to them all?

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The Butler glided in open-mouthed, eyes-bulging amazement towards the sparking rods. Maladil's chief servant reached a hand into a cluster of crackling bits of light waved aloft by an Elf with a flute who didn't seem to notice. Meanwhile, Menelduliniel gasped at the flickering milky-white Elven ghost who had approached so near to Estelarion. *

* When the tiny flashes fizzled out, The Butler then darted back to the Castle to stand at attention by his master's side. Maladil fixed him with a dark glare. The Butler cleared his throat. "Such tricks as these intruders bring cannot harm us. Their light is fleeting, and harps can be broken." *

* Kenelm cringed at the Butler's words, then drifted a short distance away. Without looking at anyone, the ghost-lad softly plucked out a few notes of his own on what strings remained intact on his bent mithril harp. *

* Tiroedrath ran over to an Elf-warrior who stood a little apart from the others, clenching his rod without looking at it. Tiroedrath howled a curt battle cry whose words were fuzzy and run together. Meanwhile, Nardol looked up on hearing the distorted wavering sound to see a dim milk-white figure. The two wrestled with the rod until it went out. Nardol's wrist felt cold where the ghost had grasped, but the chill quickly subsided with no lingering effects. Nardol smiled grimly, for the rod was still in his hand. Tiroedrath retreated to stand beside Maladil and the Butler, bowing as he joined them. *

* Halblung strode out to meet the tiny lights with sword drawn. With a rough laugh, he cleaved in twain one of the lit rods held aloft by a woman wearing a bandage around her waist. Meanwhile, Alearindu pulled her hand back instinctively and dropped the shorn rod stub as the sword wielded by an invisible hand menaced uncomfortably near. Halblung then withdrew to stand beside Maladil, the Butler, and Tiroedrath, bowing as he joined them. *

* Daerohil smiled, laughed, clapped his hands, jumped up and down, sped over to a woman with a harp who stood close by two Elvish musicians. Daerohil grabbed the lit sparkler from her hand and raced with it across the reedy lawn with its hollow stalks. Hinura watched the glimmering trail weaving in and out through the grass until the light winked out like a tired firefly. *

* Cirgon the Cook loped with an unsteady gait over to Gandalf, clutched at the wizard's robes, and cried. Gandalf handed his sparkler to the pitiable ghost with a soothing invitation. "Stand near us, if you like." Cirgon stood. *

"Mithrandir?" Menelduliniel asked, "What shall we do? What is the plan for us? What exactly are we to do?"

* Gandalf counted again. "Still three missing! We light a second round of sparkler-rods, Menelduliniel. Then come what may, we'll have to continue, even if some of the castle residents do not appear."

“Gandalf!” Poppy cried, before kneeling next to Andreth, putting the gold beside her. Andreth’s face was pale, what had she seen? What was this place going to do to them all? *

* The wizard dropped to his knees next to Andreth, blinking as he peered at her, for she shifted suddenly into half-transparency. Gandalf reached out to ease Andreth onto her back from where she'd pitched face forward onto the ground. But he could not grip her, for there was only an empty chill filling in the trembling outline of her form. Gandalf rose to his feet, backed away from the castle grounds, spoke a spell "Entule cuivië!" Simultaneously he lifted his staff, drew it back, and set it gently down.

* Andreth levitated two feet up in the air. However, she was unable to cross the invisible boundary of shadow, and was forced to remain on the grounds of Castle Maladil, just as if Andreth had been Kenelm. Several minutes later, Andreth returned to consciousness. *

* Gandalf, whose own face had gone ashen with concern, breathed a sigh of relief for small consolations. Then, an idea formed. The wizard stroked his beard, pondering aloud. "But then, this waning of Maladil's heir grants a special immunity … Why Andreth, you may walk through the castle more safely than any other living Elf, Man, or Hobbit here present!" He smiled suddenly, walked over and sat down in the grass next to the girl until after several more minutes, Andreth recovered her strength and could stand again. *

[piosenniel]

The garden had once been large, supplying the once lively and hungry castle residents with fruits, vegetables, and herbs, for flavoring, for pleasure, and for healing. Now those who remained within had all gone past those needs and the garden and orchard crept back to wildness. Still, she could see that someone had made an attempt at times to tame them back.

She and Olo worked steadily, methodically gleaning what they could from the tangle of vegetation. There was athelas, Kingsfoil hidden beneath the shading vines. And little flowers hiding the scented forked roots of ginseng. Lyre-leafed sage, too, and the golden stemmed lauriëtelco. Along the northern edge were the gray-green crescent moon shaped leaves of the moonfern, hidden beneath another planting of lyre-leafed sage. Along the wall’s surface was wolfberry, its pale yellow-green flowers hanging like little trumpets from the clustered leaves. From these she gathered the red, oblong fruits. She gathered up many of these finds, but always left enough to seed another crop.

Along the southern edge, always in the sun, was a familiar plant. Some sort of pipeweed, but nothing like the kinds grown in the Shire. It was more fragrant, and the leaves were larger and of a darker color.

Her last find, beneath the trees of the orchard, was one she could not resist. Amid the decaying vegetation and grasses were masses of glorious mushrooms. Big, fat, tasty mushrooms and small little precious mushrooms of al sorts and kinds. It was a Hobbit’s idea of paradise. These she knew would grow back independent of her actions, and she stuffed as many as she could into the pack on Olo’s back.

Periodically, she would glance toward Volondil, and when he waved her on she continued with her task.

Once done, they dimmed the lantern’s light to a faint glow, and huddled for a brief conference in the shadow of the pear tree. ‘I’m done here.’ She told the others, tucking the last of the seed filled cones in her pack, and latching the flap securely. ‘Shall we go?’ She turned to head toward the small gate in the north wall of the surround.

‘Back it up, Holly.’ said Bird in a low voice. She had flown down from the roof top and stood fidgeting on the Hobbit’s shoulder, a calculating look in her beady bird eye. ‘Gandalf and troops seem to have drawn the attention of the castle creepies. We’ve come this far undisturbed. Let’s go in and have a look-see. Maybe we can pick up a little something for our troubles.’ Holly looked toward Volondil and Olo, both of them indicating they would go in with them, though both made it quite clear their first choice would be to leave the grounds now.

‘In it is, then.’ Holly led they way beneath the cover of the orchard toward the back wall of the castle. They stopped well within the line of trees. She pointed out two doors near the opposite corners of the wall. ‘The stables are over there.’ She pointed to her right. ‘Along that southern wall of the castle.’
She pointed to the door to her left, near the northern castle wall. ‘Let’s try that one. It’s far enough away from the main action.’

They ran quickly to the latched door, passing by the three fresh mounds to their left. Volondil used the tip of his knife to pry the rusted lock from the rotting wooden door. The four of them passed in through the small door.

‘Shine that lantern a little down there.’whispered Holly as the four of them, Bird having now flown down to ride in on her shoulder, crowded into the narrow entryway. Volondil, being the tallest held the lantern up and risked a little more light.

They could see two long, thin corridors angling off from one another, one to the south and one to the east. The light glinted off something on the wall just a short distance down the eastern corridor. It was a heavy iron door, set into the wall on the left and was firmly locked and bolted. Handing the lantern to Holly, Volondil stepped close and attempted to pry the lock loose with his knife as leverage. And when it would not budge, he tried it with his sword . . .

[tangerine]

Hinura's eyes saw only what she fancied to be a wisp of smoke, or a breath on a cold day, but the clear laugh of a child reached her ears as cool, invisible hands snatched the sparkler away from her and danced off among the dead grass. Her face remained set, yet her eyes held a sad smile for that soul, seeking only a little joy and mirth in a dead place.
Her eyes were drawn away from the child ghost's path, towards the castle doors. No forms visible there; yet the very air seemed to visibly shiver in those doorways, and she felt a powerful malice being projected towards them from there. Hinura instinctively held the harp cradled in the crook of her arm more closely to herself, as a mother would shield her child from an unseemly spectacle in the street.
Then another harp answered their music; Clear, pure notes came from a mithril harp with several strings missing, suspended above the ground a little ways from the doors. Immortal sorrow flowed from it's strings. Hinura could nearly make out a hazy outline of the one holding it.
She began to play again; she dimly heard Estelarion's flute weaving it's music into her own as she began to sing once more:

Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh
'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu
baile
An cuimhne leat an oidhche bha
sinn
'S a' luing bhàin air bhàrr na mara
An oidhche sin a chaidh ar
fuadach
Thànaig a' mhuir mhùr 'na
gleannaibh

She stopped, and closed her eyes, her harp silent once more.

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel watched helplessly as Gandalf aided Andreth. She looked at all the spirits around her, realizing how vast this world was and how helpless she actually was.

Menelduliniel returned to Poppy again, a seemingly steady companion in this journey. Poppy was looking in wonder at all that was happening around them.

"What do you suppose we ought to do?" Poppy asked when she noticed the Elf standing next to her. Menelduliniel shrugged, unsure of these new circumstances.

Menelduliniel lit a second wand and, after Andreth was prepared, followed Mithrandir again. She heard Hinura and Estelarion continue to play and sing, but she also watched the spirits, fascinated by the beings.

She continued on, seeing a variety of spirits, mostly Elves in appearance. She gasped as one passed so close to Estelarion, that if he had deviated the position of his arm holding the flute, he would have touched the shade. Menelduliniel knew not what effect contact with these beings would do, but she did not want to find out. She let out a breath in relief as the ghastly creature moved past Estelarion.

"I pray to the Vala this is not a trick of my imagination," Menelduliniel muttered to herself, so quietly that even Poppy, who walked directly beside her, did not hear her prayer sent out into the abyss for any that could fulfull it.

[{(<*> )}]

Estelarion thought that he saw a wavering of motion in front of him, but he could not be sure if it was just a trick of the smoke coming from the rods. He looked at Menelduliniel, and saw a look of terror on her face whilst she stared in his direction. The Elf warrior quickly looked around, assuring himself there was no visible evil present.

Suddenly, a cold breeze blew by his arm while he played. He looked at Menelduliniel, who had turned quite pale, and wondered what it was that her eyes saw that plagued her so. Many others in the party seemed uneasy, he noted, but many others seemed to be blithely continuing along through the castle.

He stopped playing after he realized that Hinura had ceased her music as well. Even Hinura appeared somewhat alarmed, although she did not show her distress as much as Menelduliniel and some of the others. Estelarion sighed and put his flute back in its case.

As he did so, he thought he saw a fluttering out of the corner of his eye. He spun and could almost see a shimmering. He saw no shape, but there was most definitely something there.

Estelarion felt his blood go cold and he wondered what surrounded this company. Was this what Menelduliniel saw? Maybe she had a talent to see that he did not possess.

Estelarion carefully made his way over to Menelduliniel and Poppy, the Hobbit, carefully watching for another glimmer, not wanting to touch the shimmer, for fear of what would happen if he did so.

"What do you see?" he demanded of the Elf maiden when he reached her.

"You do not see them then," she said, "It is as I thought."

"I see a shimmering, but naught else," Estelarion said, "Tell me what your eyes behold."

Menelduliniel looked around, obviously taking in all that was around her and looking back at Estelarion, her eyes showing the fear that she was seemingly making no effort to conceal.

"There are shades...spirits," she said, finally, "I know not exactly what they are."

"And do you see them vividly?" Estelarion asked, looking around, only now really noticing how many shimmers in the air he could see.

"I can see them fairly well," Menelduliniel responded, "The images are not that sharp, but I can make out faces and the like."

Estelarion saw her look over his shoulder and shiver. He fell into step with her, lifting the flute and beginning to play, as if his music would take the world away from him. It, at least, enabled him to escape mentally from this new danger.

[{(<*> )}]

"I can see them fairly well," Menelduliniel responded, "The images are not that sharp, but I can make out faces and the like."

Menelduliniel looked as a spirit passed by, seemingly trying to touch Estelarion. She shuddered to herself, glad when it passed by him. The Elf was nearly oblivious to the spirits, and Menelduliniel nearly envied him for this. She was not good with the unknown. If only they could interchange talents. Estelarion always seemed to be the more adaptable of the two. Menelduliniel was fairly set in her ways, although she was still young.

Much to her relief, Estelarion remained close to her and the youthful Hobbit. He began to play again. Menelduliniel saw Poppy relax a bit and she felt herself follow the Hobbit's lead and relax too. She was still somewhat startled by the images that she saw around her, but Estelarion's familiar melodies took her out of this area and back to the taverns where she now felt most at home. Menelduliniel stayed in step with Estelarion, thinking about days gone by, both better and worse and of old companions and old music, long since ceasing in circulation amongst most musicians...

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Gandalf had been trying to cheer her up by saying how safely she could walk through the Castle as a ghost. Yet, somehow, that thought did little to console her.

What was particularly frustrating is that one moment she could see and hear the ghosts absolutely clearly, and the next minute she could see and hear precisely nothing. Everyone else about her was saying how they could make out various lights and sounds, but, when Andreth looked out, all she could see were shadowy lights. Then suddenly something inside her would snap and she'd see the ghosts as clearly as if they stood right beside her.

The girl hoped there was some way to keep her shifting from one form to the next. As bad as it was to be a ghost, it was even more frustrating to be continually shifting from one form to another with no control at all. She wondered if this was how young shapechangers felt, and wished that Bird was around to discuss these things with her.

But when she looked about there was absolutely no sight of Holly or Bird or Holly's other friends. They had probably gone around to the back entrance, as they had been discussing the other night. She hoped they were safe and managed to keep out of trouble.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* It took Volondil three thwacking thrusts of his sword-edge to cleave the lock-and-bolt device holding fast the iron door. At last, the entire knob broke clean off with a clank to the dank floor. Water trickled out from underneath the iron door, wetting the muddy cracks in the mildewed flagstone that served as flooring in this outer portion of Castle Maladil. *

* Volondil heaved the door open. The door exhaled a chill groan, revealing a smithy unused for forging since the Second Age. Holly's hooded lantern dimly showed the smithy's means of production: forge, cracked table, anvils, hammers and tongs, a vise, molds for keys and weapons ... as well as examples of the objects produced: handfuls of spikes, locks and keys, horseshoes, pot racks atop the table, ... cloak racks and unfinished bits of armor moldering away in fetid pools of filth on the floor.

* Rotting sacks festered humbly in dark corners. Stacks of gold pieces lay piled near the sacks, neatly arranged as if carefully counted. The floor dropped away along the back wall into an erratically dug hole reaching shadowed depths unknown and unseen. Just as Volondil, Holly, Olo and Bird were getting the sense that a malevolent living presence had taken up residence here, they heard a sly squish-flap-flip sound. *

* Too suddenly it came upon them ... Clammy fingers knocked the lantern from Holly's hands, then wrapped themselves around her neck and pulled the Hobbit towards the thing's burrowed cellar. *

[piosenniel]

Volondil’s keen eyes had fixed the path and speed of the fell creature as it pulled Holly toward its stinking den. ‘Hold still, Holly!’ he cried to her. Two strides forward, with a swift plea to those who dwelt in the West that with their grace he might deliver a sure stroke, He took one more step, raising his sword arm high. But as the fickle grace of the Valar would have it, he tripped over Holly’s lantern, and his sword severed Holly’s sleeve from wrist to shoulder.

Holly, distracted by the torn sleeve, though the point did no damage to her flesh, grabbed the sharpened quill she had put in her vest pocket and swung widely at the fell creature. She missed her objective, the Mewlips’ eye, but the intensity of her struggles knocked the creature off balance,

His arms swung widely, and he lost his grip on the Hobbit, dropping her. In a rage, he turned on Volondil, and the Ranger delivered him a sinking blow this time. The creature howled in pain and retreated back several paces.

But he was not gravely wounded. Darting around, the Mewlips squish-flap-flipped to the door and closed it, plunging everyone inside the smithy into a semblance of darkness as the Mewlips blew out the lantern-light and cackled to itself.

Olo had already lit the small candle from the stash Holly put in the side pocket of his pack. He stepped forward from the corner to the left of the door and held it up high to see what he could do to help.

Bird, though horrified, kept her head about her. Dropping swiftly to where the gold was stacked, she changed to human form, and stuffed her breeches pockets with stacks of gold coins, retreating quickly toward the now closed door, pulling the gasping Holly with her by the hand.

By the light of the small candle, Olo could see the Mewlips, whose attention had now focused on the thieving Bird. The creature squished toward her in a menacing manner intending to get back his treasure. She took out a handful of coins and flung them hard at the Mewlips face. It stopped, in pain where the coins stung the tender flesh around its eyes.

Bird shoved Holly well behind her and rushed the distracted creature which was only a few paces from her. She began to change in mid stride to her Entish form, her arms reaching round the nasty, squishy body of the foul creature, as she shifted shape. Her limbs grew strong and long and she pulled the creature to her woody chest and squeezed him hard.

With a gurgle and a strangled yowl cut off by a last gasp, the Mewlips died. Bird dropped him down his dank hole in the rear of the room and changed back to human form. Olo, by then, had retrieved the lantern and relit it. The three companions joined Bird at the edge of the Mewlips’ hole, but saw nothing other than a long passage into darkness now stained with the foul, fluid remains of the former occupant.

Holly shivered and rasped, ‘Let’s get out of here! Who knows if there was only one living down there!’

They retreated toward the door, Bird reaching it first,flung it open. Volondil held his blade in readiness as his three companions made their way out the door and into the hallway. He soon followed, and they retreated back west and out the door into the shelter of the waiting trees to regroup.

[ February 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

A hush fell over the living and the dead assembled at the front entrance as Maladil roared out, "Whence comes this rabble of marauders assembled before my gates, boldly besetting me and my household with trembling blasts of light and noise before you move against the Castle bent on plunder and destruction? Ware, lest you meet your doom here this night!"

Aislan, Poppy, Menelduliniel heard: " … comes … rabble … marauders … before … gates … besetting … and … household … trembling … of … you … against … Castle … on … destruction? Ware, lest … meet … doom … this!"

Andreth heard: "Whence comes this … marauders assembled before … boldly besetting me … household with trembling … light and noise … move against the … on plunder and? … lest you meet … here this night!"

Nardol, Hinura, Estelarion heard: " … comes … marauders … gates … besetting … household … trembling … against … Castle … destruction? … meet … doom!"

Alearindu heard naught but a horrific caterwauling wail.

Gandalf heard the whole thing. Standing from his sitting position beside Andreth, he gestured Poppy Took to come over with a wave of his arm, then bowed a low greeting. "Hail Lord Maladil, renowned Orc Bane, of Laurëondo! Master Elrond of Rivendell and Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood send greetings. Indeed, what we seek is more precious than all the combined treasures in your vaults. As evidence of our good will, and in token of the faithful alliance between Imladris, Lothlórien, and Laurëondo, permit me to introduce … "

Maladil interrupted with a bitter laugh. "Messenger of the West, are you? Sent by the Valar, after all these years? Your message fails, unless you seek to mock me, for Adela is not with you. But come, tell me your name Messenger, that I may … greet thee, properly."

Poppy cringed and her knees knocked, but Gandalf pressed a gentle reassuring hand on her shoulder. Aislan, Poppy, Menelduliniel heard: "… of … West, … you? … by … Valar, … all … years? Your message … fails, … you … mock me, … Adela … not with you. Come, … name, … may … greet thee."

Andreth heard: "Messenger of the …, are you? Sent … Valar, after all … ? Your message fails … seek to mock … Adela is not. But come, tell … name Messenger, that … greet thee, properly."

Nardol, Hinura, Estelarion heard: "West, … you? … Valar, … these … years? … Fails … Adela … not. Come, … name, … greet."

Alearindu heard a bitter laugh. Noticing that Aislan appeared to understand part of what was being said, the Ranger asked Aislan to please pass on to her as much as she could of Maladil's speech.

Gandalf swallowed a slight shudder, for Maladil's words yet carried commanding strength enough to set in motion much mischief in Middle Earth. "Some call me Mithrandir, others Gandalf."

"Curse you and your names! You come with fire … Naur dan le, Mithrandir! Wander far from here, and may you perish even as you have shown us, in a blaze falling to darkness! Now depart hence!" Maladil's voice rang raw malice.

All heard enough to get the general idea, though words were missing here and there.

Gandalf would yield no ground. "Not yet! What of your own name, Maladil Orc Bane? I would hold you to it. Who in your household has dealings with Orcs? For Orcs have brought prisoners to fill your dungeon in these days!"

The Butler, white as a ghost, whitened even more.

Maladil turned down his lips in a sneer. "You are mistaken, Old Trickster, for Laurëondo was built with no dungeon. And no Orc would dare approach as close as you are now, lest they meet the same peril facing you."

"Your whole Castle has become a dungeon, Maladil, in which you entrap your own kin and servants! But you may still help free them, even now. It is said there lies a deed to Laurëondo within your walls. Present this deed to us, we who entreat you on behalf of Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, your friends and allies. The Castle as you know it must cease to exist, for the curse to be lifted. Yet your sacrifice will be a praiseworthy legacy sung among the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, for we seek to build on these grounds a House of Healing." Gandalf bowed.

Maladil snorted. "Will this be before or after you snap up every last ounce of my gold?"

"This Hobbit, Poppy Took standing before me, bears a gift. Master Elrond has entrusted to me a sack of gold to cover any expenses along my road in fighting our common Enemy to the East. A shadow forms, and great woe will come of it should your Castle fall to its influence! Better render the Castle to the wholesome influence of such allies as you extended your hospitality in the Second Age. In token of our goodwill, please accept this present of gold from our Ambassador, Poppy Took. She will walk to meet you in the Great Hall. Promise her your protection, Maladil. Have one of your servants light a candle for her that she may see inside, for she is heavy-laden and carries no light of her own."

Maladil howled with derisive scorn. "You send the smallest and weakest, caring not whether she lives nor dies." Maladil's gaze searched, then fell upon Nardol. "Why not send in that grim Elf-warrior? He, at least, would provide several minutes of sport at the end of my blade." Maladil reached out, pointing to Nardol.

"Poppy Took will not die, nor will she be harmed in any way, Maladil. For I entrust her to your honor. Thus, receive this Hobbit as your guest, and spurn not the hope of those who would see life return here." Bending down to Poppy, Gandalf smiled encouragement. "Go ahead on in, dear Poppy."

"As to the Elf-warrior you mention … I leave him to decide what answer to make you." Gandalf straightened, then turned and whispered the complete translation to Nardol concerning all Maladil had said of Nardol.

[ February 10, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Belin]

Celumëomaryu was surprised. The singing and the crashing and the booming of the fireworks had caught her attention, and when the castle door opened her mind was made up. This deserved some attention on her part.

She left the dungeon and walked down the stairs, as silently as a ghost can walk, and in the inner courtyard she found her second surprise: this was a large company of the living, of all shapes and sizes, though many of them were outside and she knew them only by their voices, some of which were quite extraordinarily high-pitched. The very fact that the living had come here of their own accord, and that they had heedlessly (and rather rudely, she thought, barbarians that they were) broken into the Castle, and were clearly on their way to the Great Hall, was enough to throw her into wonderment. She remained close the stairs, and was wondering just how visible she was when she had her third surprise, the sounds of violence and unhappy squeals.

Celumëomaryu stood still for a moment, fighting curiosity, and, quickly losing, slipped unseen to the smithy to find some very peculiar strangers, and a Mewlips. She had never seen such a thing before. It struck her as more suited to the distant marshes of which she'd heard tales than the smithy of a castle where she lived. It certainly seemed to have made itself at home, however, and was doing its best to make the smithy a sort of makeshift kitchen.

Celumëomaryu watched the struggle between them, disinterestedly. The intruders were no more out of place here than the Mewlips, and dealing with the victorious would be equally annoying, whichever one it was. Tella would certainly complain, and Anna.. no, Anna wouldn't help at all.

But after all, the poor beast stood little chance against so many. Celumëomaryu stood still and unseen as the lopsided battle continued, and soon found herself surprised again. An entwife, of all things, took the place of one of the women of their party. Celumëomaryu involuntarily stepped back. Clearly these were beings of extraordinary power. Nobody traveled with an entwife.. if that really was an entwife... Why should they trouble with such a place as this?

She smiled bitterly at her own question. Indeed, this place was of little account. She wasn't even certain that she, with no haunt left to speak of, would even bother to defend it.

But Maladil would. Oh, Maladil would, and she imagined that any moment now he could come striding out in his usual state of wrath.

Celumëomaryu moved back against the wall of the castle, into the shadows, hoping that nobody would notice her, and hoping particularly that she would not have to speak to Maladil.

[ February 11, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]

[ March 08, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Susan Delgado]

Anna and Calimiel had also heard the noises and, unable to think of any explanation other than invasion, had been standing at the barred window screaming for attention for the last ten minutes when Calimiel stopped suddenly and looked around.

"She's gone! Where'd she go?" She exclaimed.

Anna looked around. Celumëomaryu was indeed gone from the area of the cell. "I don't know, probably to investigate whatever's going on downstairs. Let's get out of here before she comes back."

"How?"

Anna looked around. A good question. She'd already tried the secret door and found it blocked. She approached the door to the cell and examined the lock. Could she pick it? She glanced around, but saw no wire or anything else that would help. She tried poking at it with her finger, but that did nothing; it remained firmly locked. She paused to giggle a little at her own folly, then continued her search. After several more minutes, she gave up. There was nothing; the cell was bare.

Calimiel had stood in the middle of the cell watching Anna, and when she saw her friend collapse against the wall with a sigh, she frowned. "Are you giving up? You can't do that."

Anna snorted. "Why not? There's no way out of here."

Calimiel shook her head. "No, no. If you give up now and she comes back, she may never leave again. We'll die here. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be a ghost again. I can see now, and nothing will make me not see again, ever."

Anna smiled at Calimiel's adamancy. "What do you suggest then?"

Calimiel considered, thoughtlessly fingering a strand of hair, which hung past her shoulder. When she realised what she was doing, she frowned and glanced over at Anna. "What's holding up your hair? It's not down, like mine is."

Anna put a hand to her head. Sure enough, her hair was piled on the back of her head. With all the distractions, she hadn't noticed it before now. She felt around and in a moment extracted two long thin metal pins. Her hair swept down to its full length, which when she stood would be just past her waist, but she didn't notice.

She had it! She leapt to her feet and clapped Calimiel on the shoulder before hurrying over to the door. She inserted the pin and after several minutes of struggling, heard a faint click. Success!

Now what? They couldn't just rush down the stairs without knowing where they might meet Celumëomaryu. Anna glanced over at Calimiel, who was still waiting patiently, and had a thought.

"Calimiel, how did you know Celumëomaryu had left the dungeon?"

The girl shrugged. "I just did. It's something I learned when I was blind. I always knew where all the other Ghosts were."

"And you can still do this?"

Calimiel looked evasive for a moment. "Not really, you know, not nearly as well as I could when I was a Ghost."

It was a lie, Anna could see that clearly. She waited.

Calimiel wandered back to the window. She could be as stubborn as Anna sometimes.

They were wasting time! Celumëomaryu could be back any moment! ”Come on, Calimiel, it’s the only way we’ll be able to avoid Celumëomaryu! If you don’t do this, we’ll be recaptured!”

“No! I can only do it if my eyes are closed, and I told you, I will not be blind again!” She came back to the door and stared Anna in the eyes.

Anna sighed. “Having your eyes closed does not make you blind.”

“I can’t see, so I’m blind.”

Unsure what to say in response to this patently ridiculous statement, Anna decided to leave. “Fine. Stay here, then. I’m leaving.” She reached for the door and swung it open. It squealed shrilly, but nothing else seemed to happen. No one approached, demanding they return to the cell, so Anna stepped through and paused, savoring her first moment of freedom since gaining this body. She took a step, and felt Calimiel’s hand on her arm.

“Don’t leave without me.”

Will you help us by telling me where Celumëomaryu is?”

Calimiel stepped back, angry. Anna never stopped! She could feel a scream rising in her throat, the same one Anna could see rising on her face and a moment before it emerged, Anna leapt forward and clapped a hand across her mouth.

“It’s the only way. If you don’t do this, we’ll be captured again, and knowing Celumëomaryu, we’ll probably be punished. Please.”

After a moment, Calimiel nodded and Anna removed her hand. “Thank you. Here, take my hand. Then you won’t need your eyes.”

Calimiel shook her head. “I don’t need them to know where I’m going. You go ahead, I’ll follow and tell you where to go.” She closed her eyes and waited for Anna to step back through the door.

Anna hesitated for a moment, then started down the corridor toward the door leading to the stairs, glancing back every few steps to where Calimiel glided behind her. As they approached the stairs, Calimiel became more agitated and finally laid a hand on Anna’s shoulder.

“She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs. It isn’t safe to go down there.”

Anna paused. Where could they go now? There was no other way out of the dungeon that she knew of. “Wait!” she hissed when she noticed that Calimiel had started back through the door. Was she going back to the cell? No, she wasn’t, Anna saw as she followed. Calimiel was going toward the opposite corner. Why was she going there? “Where are you going?” She demanded when she caught up.

“There’s a door...I saw the floor-plan of the Castle once and there was a secret door marked over here, back when this was the treasury. Ah, here we are.” She led Anna past two cell door and around a corner, then stopped in front of a cell that Anna thought looked smaller than the others. Anna stepped forward and tested the door. It was unlocked and swung open on stiff hinges. The wall Calimiel indicated was bare, but that meant nothing, if the door was hidden. Quickly enough, she found the switch, then, wary of a trap like the one before, she and Calimiel retreated back through the door. Anna glanced around, then picked up a piece of fallen mortar and tossed it through the bars at the stone which hid the switch. It thunked and a portion of the wall moved slightly, but nothing else seemed to happen. They approached cautiously, then slid the door open far enough to slip through. A steep, narrow staircase rose before them.

After ascertaining where the switch to open the door was on this side, the slid the door closed so as not to advertise their presence to anyone who might wander through the dungeon. They ascended the stairs and emerged in a flat space on the otherwise peaked roof. After exploring a little, it became apparent that there were paths around the various roofs of the Castle. Someone had taken great care when building this place. After several minutes, the discovered a hidden balcony which overlooked the courtyard and front entrance to the Castle. They watched the living folk mill around with the Ghosts in awe. What were they doing here? They glanced around, but didn’t see Celumëomaryu anywhere.

[VanimaEdhel]

"Curse ... your names! come ... fire … Naur dan ... Wander ... from here ... and ... perish even ... you ... shown ... in ... blaze ... to darkness! ... depart ...!" Maladil said to Menelduliniel's ears. She heard all of Mithrandir's comments and watched as Poppy was beckoned up to the front.

Estelarion heard only a bit of what Menelduliniel heard, but still realized the danger that they seemed to be in while in Lord Maladil's presence. He felt what he hoped was not a false sense of security with Mithrandir around, however. The tiny Hobbit, Poppy, then stepped up, due to Mithrandir's introduction.

Both Elves looked in surprise at Mithrandir's words and seemingly reckless use of the small, appearingly defenseless Hobbit girl. They wondered what was to this small creature, as there must be some inner strength in her for Mithrandir to place her in such utter peril.

They turned, wondering what was to happen. Both put their hands towards their respective weapons. Menelduliniel's hands stood right above the scabbards to her daggers, wrapped conveniently right within reach around her thighs. Estelarion's hand twitched, preparing to grab his bow at a moment's notice.

Mithrandir briefly noted their positions out of the corner of his eye and gave a small sign to desist their motions. Both quickly obeyed, not wanting to agitate the spirits and mostly not wanting to agitate this Lord Maladil, for both felt an intense fear of this Lord.

They both awaited what Nardol would do, as he seemed to have some choice that they were unaware of beforehand. They looked curiously, wondering what was about to develop in their interesting situation...

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

" … comes … rabble … marauders … before … gates … besetting … and … household … trembling … of … you … against … Castle … on … destruction? Ware, lest … meet … doom … this!"

Aislan frowned as she tried hard to listen as Gandalf and Maladil spoke. She could not hear everything, but she understood enough. Alearindu held a questioning look upon her face.

"I can hear nothing. What does he say?" Alearindu whispered to Aislan.

"… of … West, … you? … by … Valar, … all … years? Your message … fails, … you … mock me, … Adela … not with you. Come, … name, … may … greet thee." Aislan heard the bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Something about the West, and the Valar. He says our message has failed...and that we mock him...and Adela not being with us. Our names?" Aislan seemed slightly confused as she explained to Alearindu.

Aislan noticed Midnight still by her side, and the whites of his eyes showed as he snorted towards the entrance to the castle. Midnight took a few steps back, but didn't go too far. Aislan kept her eyes glued to the scene in front of her. A glowing spirit at the front of the entrance moved little as it exchanged words with Gandalf. Gandalf explained Poppy and the gold, and Aislan heard a scorful laugh fron Maladil.

Before Alearindu could ask what he had said, Aislan began to answer. "He says something of the smallest, and Gandalf cares wether she lives or dies..." Aislan sighed when she realised how ridiculus it had sounded. She hadn't heard everything. The ghost spoke again. "Now he talks of Nardol, and sport at his blade. Maybe he thinks we should send Nardol?"

"As to the Elf-warrior you mention … I leave him to decide what answer to make you." Gandalf finished, after assuring that Poppy would not die or be harmed. Aislan watched and wondered what Nardol would say in reply. Maybe he would say nothing, but that didn't seem like the Nardol she had met, even if it was only for a time on the road.

[Mithadan]

Nardol's eyes narrowed as Gandalf whispered Maladil's words to him. His face clouded and he gritted his teeth making his scar jump and writhe. Almost, he made an angry response to the shade's challenge. But he bit off the words before they were spoken and, instead, took a deep breath. He forced his hands, which had balled into fists around the wands, to relax. Then he stepped forward slowly and laid a hand on the Hobbit's shoulder.

Poppy cringed at the touch; the Elf had never spoken a kind word to her. But Nardol smiled grimly down at the Halfling and did not remove his hand. He looked up towards the blur that was Maladil and nodded.

"Mae govannen, mellon," he said in a clear voice. "It seems to me that you have little enough to concern yourself with my sword, so with your leave it shall remain in its sheath. But perhaps you might show some courtesy to one of your kindred? The bag is heavy. Too heavy for the young lady to carry without aid. Might I not accompany her inside? I give you my word that I shall take nothing without your leave. Indeed, if you wish, I shall leave my sword behind, though you have little to fear from such a weapon."

He stood calmly at Poppy's side and raised his chin as he waited for Maladil's response. He made no move even as the dim figure carrying a sword advanced upon him and the Hobbit.

[*Varda*]

"… of … West, … you? … by … Valar, … all … years? Your message … fails, … you … mock me, … Adela … not with you. Come, … name, … may … greet thee."

Poppy trembled as she heard snatches of what Maldil was uttering to Gandalf, and it was not long before she heard her own name mentioned. Hearing mocking laughter after this, she tried to hold her head up high, although her heart quaked deep within her.

She flinched as his gaze searched the others, before settling on Nardol. His words were not optimistic, and the hope that Poppy had had grew smaller with each passing moment.

"Poppy Took will not die, nor will she be harmed in any way, Maladil. For I entrust her to your honor. Thus, receive this Hobbit as your guest, and spurn not the hope of those who would see life return here." Gandalf then bent and nodded to Poppy to continue on.

Before Poppy could move, Nardol stepped forward, and laid his hand on her shoulder. As the pale shape that was Maladil looked at them, Poppy felt safer next to the tall elf standing beside her. He had never spoken to her before, but Poppy instinctively trusted him, as he spoke to Maladil, and offered her aid.

Poppy stood as tall as her small stature would allow her,, and looked up to see the shape approach them, while wondering what his response would be.

[ February 11, 2003: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Maladil narrowed his eyes slightly, for the tall grey figure's speech had been easier to understand than the Elf-warrior's. Still, only a few words were missing here or there. He took a step forward to advance closer to Poppy and the protector who held a hand on her shoulder, but was brought up short by an impenetrable invisible barrier that kept him inside the Castle doorway, unable to join his ghostly companions outside on the surrounding grounds. He gasped as though physically hurt.

Nardol heard these words: "Keep … sword … you, warrior. … none … fear … sword, … they brought … fear … themselves. … then … escort … flower … to … ground. That … given … small … task … large … her … on … you, … let … tallest come, … naught … accomplished … your … folly … attempt. … I … accept … offering … Lord … gold, … once … allies … battle, … he … think … honorable. But … offering … is, not … payment! … Adela … price … Castle!"

Maladil turned, still firmly gripping his sword, and strode through the Castle into the middle of the Great Hall, waiting. Tiroedrath, Halblung, and Guilin remained out front standing guard. The Butler became a thin mist and vanished. Daerohil ran through the grasses, racing the night wind, glancing at the strange visitors with candles and lanterns. Lasrain drifted back around the corner on his way to the herb garden for a moonlit walk. The human ghost Cirgon who'd once served as a cook still clutched his spent sparkler as he stood near Hinura, looking beyond the minstrel and the sparkler, to look at nothing at all.

Gandalf meanwhile provided the full translation of Maladil's words for Nardol and Poppy: "Keep your sword as you wish, warrior. For none here now fear the sword, unless they have brought such fear upon themselves. Come then to escort this Poppy-flower low to the ground. That you've given the small Ambassador a task too large for her reflects on all of you, for let the tallest come as well, and naught shall be accomplished but your own folly in the attempt. Still, I will accept this mad offering of Lord Elrond's gold, for once we were allies in battle, and he must think it honorable. But an offering it is, not a payment! For Adela is the price of this Castle!"

"A lantern!" Gandalf added to Poppy and Nardol. "Bring one in with you." Then the wizard crept unobtrusively to the back of the group. To Andreth as he passed her, he coached, "The Book! Careful whom you trust with it." Gandalf smiled and bowed appreciation towards Estelarion, Hinura, and Menelduliniel as he passed. "Fine music!" To Alearindu, "May your scouting skills stand us in good stead for what lies ahead." To Aislan, "Holly's taken Peri, then? I see you've got Midnight, who might have a mind to follow me in through a Castle door now that I've freed him from armor, saddle, and bit. Good luck!"

[piosenniel]

The night had turned cool, or so Holly thought. She sat on the stone bench and shivered. Olo threw his cloak over her shoulders and offered her the skin of water from his pack. No one spoke, and not even the sere leaves on the pear trees rattled in the night breezes to disturb the quiet. There was one sound . . .

Clink . . . clink . . . clink, clink . . . Holly turned her head to the left, and there sat Bird, on the end of the bench, counting out the coins. ‘What are you doing? Trying to attract Maladil out here to see who’s grabbed some of the family fortune?’ The Hobbit’s voice was whispery, though the cool water had quenched the burning feeling, making it easier to talk.

‘Maladil, Shmaladil!’ snorted Bird, scooping the thirty three coins into a small leather bag. ‘He’s busy with the show Gandalf’s putting on out front.’ She laughed as she tied the strings tightly round the bag’s neck. ‘Poor Poppy! She’s the one you should be worrying about. Little git got talked into some glorious scheme of carrying the Elven gold to Maladil. She’s probably the one’s going to end up as gooseberry jam on the parquet floors.’ Bird shook her head, black hair flying in the breeze. ‘If she’d only lis . . .’

The three companions turned to her as one. ‘If she’d only listened to you she’d be in much better shape!’ came their sing-song voices.

‘Well, I can see old Birdie’s wisdom is not appreciated in this crowd.’

Holly’s laugh came out in a series of short harsh barks, ending with a cough. ‘Better shape, Bird? Look at us. I’m sporting a necklace of nasty purple finger prints from that disgusting creature and you’re wearing his innards all up and down the front of you. It’s sheer luck we aren’t all dead!’

She hoped it was only a trick of moonlight and weariness, but as she said the word ‘luck’ a familiar gleam crept into Bird’s eyes. ‘Luck.’ said Bird, caressing the sound with her tongue. ‘Now that is just the word I was thinking of.’ She ran toward the small gate in the northwest corner of the grounds’ wall, calling out to them that she would be right back.

Volondil, leaning on his blade, watched her retreating figure and sighed. His side was beginning to ache, and he was weary from their encounter with the Mewlips. Olo sat down near Holly on the bench, his chin resting on his blackthorn stick, planted before him in the ground. A very short time later Bird reappeared, her hands empty of the leather sack.

‘Well here’s my plan.’ she said in a rush of words. Just another gold find or two like the one in the smithy, and they would be set for quite a while. They would go back in the northern door, but this time they would turn right, down the corridor which headed south. ‘And if we find any more heavy iron doors, heavily bolted we pass them right on by.’ Bird stood, hands on hips, looking at the silent trio.
‘That is your “plan”?’ came the incredulous voice of the Hobbit. Bird nodded her head ‘yes’. ‘And you don’t see any problems with it?’ Holly picked up Volondil’s blade and held it to her chest. ‘Just kill me now. Here, underneath the stars, and get it over with.’

Bird knocked the tip of the blade from Holly’s vest. ‘Don’t be so melodramatic. You said it yourself, that we were lucky tonight. And I think you’re right.’ She hauled the Hobbit up with her hand. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’

Volondil led, followed by Bird and Holly. Olo brought up the rear. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could vote on this, is there?’ he said as they entered the doorway and turned right. ‘Seems like your feet have already voted for you.’ whispered Bird back to him. ‘Just stick close to Holly. Things are going to work out fine.’

It was dark as they turned to the left and stood before a closed door. Volondil tried the handle and it opened easily, giving them entrance to an inner hallway. Olo resigned himself to this foolhardy mission, and opened the hood of the lantern just a little more to see what lay before them . . .

[ February 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[*Varda*]

Her hands shaking slightly, Poppy lit a lantern, and gave the gold to Nardol, before she and Nardol stepped forward and into the ominous dark of the castle. The light of the lantern she carried could only provide a little light around them, and Poppy gradually felt more and more suffocated by the heavy darkness, and the eeriness she felt creeping up her spine. More than once she looked back towards the door, longing to flee, but the tall body of the elf beside her kept her walking on.

Ahead of her she saw the Great Hall, and the wispy form of Maladil awaiting them. She remembered his harsh condescending words to her, and courage and determination to prove this ghost wrong, rose in her heart. Keeping this firmly in her mind, she walked into the Great Hall, Nardol by her side, and Poppy felt far safer than she would have been alone. Nothing she had imagined on the journey prepared her for the experience of meeting Maladil face to face, alone or otherwise, and she felt cold.

Maladil advanced towards them, as Nardol placed the gold in front of him, offering it to the ghost.

[piosenniel]

The four entered the inner hallway heading east. Holly and Olo took the lead, Olo holding his lantern before them to drive back the darkness. Bird followed behind, and Volondil brought up the rear. It was silent except for the fall of their footsteps on the dusty wooden floor.

Holly strained her ears trying to hear any noise coming from the eastern section of the castle which lay before them. She knew that the main body of the companions had entered that way. The only sound, though, was Bird muttering about the obvious lapse in housekeeping standards, as she sneezed from the dust thrown into the air as they crept along.

‘Shhh! You’re loud enough to wake the dead!’ admonished Holly, hissing back over her shoulder at her companion. The incongruity of her remark struck her as funny of a sudden and she began to giggle as Bird snorted at her words. ‘Wake the dead! No chance of avoiding that.’ retorted the sniffling Shapechanger.

‘Pipe down! The both of you.’ Came the stern reprimand from Olo. Both women stared incredulous at the authoritative tone of the usually mild mannered Hobbit. ‘He’s right.’ said Volondil from the rear. ‘The dead are too awake in this place. Let’s not advertise our whereabouts and draw their attention to us.’

‘Hmmph!’ snorted Bird, though quietly.

A little way down the inner hallway, they could see doorways to their right (south) and left (north) and possibly one at the far eastern end of it. They gathered in a tight group, and Olo opened the lantern a little further to make out better the way before them.

‘Let’s try that one, there.’ said Volondil quietly, pointing with his sword . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth tucked the book under her sash, remembering Gandalf's directive to keep it safe from unfriendly hands. She could feel herself slipping in and out, although she had no idea what she was slipping in and out of. One minute she could see and understand absolutely nothing about the ghosts and, the next, all of their actions and thoughts were crystal clear to her. The sensation felt rather strange.

At that instant the moon rose to its highest point in the sky, in token of the fact that the witching time had come, that which the hobbits call the hour of midnight.

Suddenly, Andreth felt her body become very, very light, as she found her feet lifting gently off the ground. All those around her--Gandalf and all her companions--seemed to be drifting off onto another plane, from which she was barred. Somehow, that didn't bother her. This new place where she was going seemed interesting indeed. In fact, for the very first time, Andreth began to understand why there were reasons, even going beyond Adela's death, that someone might like to maintain this form at least for a little while, rather than continuing on to where they were supposed to go.

Her heart felt curiously unafraid, her body totally free. She wanted to leave the front of the house where all those bright sparklers were, for she really did not like them at all. The darkness seemed more inviting. She sped swiftly through the air, intentionally aiming herself at the middle of a tree and hurtling through it to the other side, laughing with glee.

She made her way swiftly to the back of the mansion, and followed the footprints of Holly and her friends, hovering over them in the hallway, and laughing to see Volondil push his sword forward, for she felt quite certain that mere steel alone would not hurt her or the other ghosts.

Feeling quite carefree, she gleefully called out to Holly, "It's me Andreth, perched on the ledge above your heads. If you'd like, I can slip through the wall and investigate those rooms, and let you know if all is safe inside."

She slipped off the ledge and spun downward, hovering directly over Volondil. She felt strange feelings inside her that she didn't understand. On an impulse, she bent close to the Ranger, and ran her fingers affectionately through his hair, wondering if he would respond.

[ February 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The four companions halted in the inner hallway. Volondil whispered he felt a breeze ruffle his hair, and Holly’s brow was furrowed as she heard some sort of buzz in her head but could not make out any words. Olo looked on perplexed, oblivious to anything going on about him other than the presence of his three other companions.

It was Bird, drawing her small frame up indignantly, who spoke to the presence in the hallway. ‘Get away from him, you little git!’ She scowled at a place just beyond Volondil’s right shoulder. Volondil turned sharply and looked behind him, but could see nothing.

Holly, too, peered into the darkness behind them. ‘What is it, Bird?’ she asked, coming to stand by her friend.

‘It’s that red-haired girl. The one all moony over that nasty Elf. The castle’s done something to her.’ ‘Do you think Maladil killed her.’ whispered Olo, his eyes gone wide as he stared into the shadows and saw nothing. Bird snorted at this remark. ‘Wouldn’t have hurt anything if he did, now. Would it?’

Holly nudged Bird out of the way and spoke into the darkness. ‘I can’t hear or see you, Andreth. But obviously Bird can. We’ve already had to fight off a horrid creature trying to kill us. Can you help us out? There are some doors up ahead. One is to the left a little ways from us and then there is one on the right, and at the end of the hallway we can make out another door where the hallway stops. Is there anyway you can let us know what lurks beyond the doors? We’re looking for the deed to the Castle . . . for Gandalf.’

Bird pulled Holly near, one eye on the ghostly girl. ‘Now what did you tell her that for?’ she whispered into the Hobbit’s ear. ‘’Because,’ whispered Holly back to her, ‘I don’t think telling her we’re looking for gold and saleable small items would enlist her to our cause.’

Holly smiled into the darkness, a restraining hand clenched firmly onto Bird’s arm. ‘So, what do you say, can you give us a hand?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

To be truthful, Andreth had forgotten a lot of the reason why she was supposed to be in the castle. She knew it had something to do with her dear departed relations and how they should be packing their things and heading to different shores. But, somehow, being a ghost was so much fun that all of Andreth's common sense had fled.

There was still a tiny voice of caution in the very back of her mind which was issuing a stern warning. If you stay like this too long, you'll never get back to the other Andreth again. And, if you think real ghosts have fun, you'd better think again. The only reason this is fun is that you still have enough life energy and laughter left to run rings around most of the other ghosts in this palace. But all that will fade if you're not careful.

Andreth should have paid closer attention to that voice, but she was having such a good time she had no intention of doing so. Andreth didn't like the harsh sound of Bird's words, even though she couldn't understand their full meaning, so she flew down to her and tugged hard on several locks of her raven hair. The next time you're nasty to me, I'll tie it all in knots!

Then she hovered in front of Holly and did a little curtsey. The problem was she couldn't quite undersatand what Miz Holly was saying. All her words seemed horribly jumbled. Still, she knew her friend intended to explore the castle, and it seemed easier for Andreth to get around quickly without fear of attack. So Andreth thought she might try to go into the rooms first, one at a time, and see if anything interesting or dangerous was there.

She took out an embroidery cloth and hastily stitched a message. "I check rms. U stay." She held it in front of Holly's nose, hoping she could see it. Then she got out her guidebook from beneath her sash and flipped it down to the hobbit, making sure it was open to the page that looked like the back hallway. "Don't know if this is any help, since it's written in Quenyan, but you never know." She didn't think Gandalf would mind if she gave the book to Holly, since he seemed to place a great deal of trust in her himself.

She surged ahead of the group, yelling back a warning for them to stay there, then turned abruptly to the left, going straight through the stonework with ease. She hovered perfectly still in the middle of the room, glancing purposefully from one side to the other, making sure to take in all the sights so that she could report back to Holly.

[ February 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Maladil's cold luminescence drifted towards Nardol and Poppy until he stood inches away, sword in hand glittering, but held down absentmindedly, scraping the red marble tiled floor. Amid flickers of sickly blue light, the Elf and Hobbit representing Lord Elrond could see tatters of cloth hung streaming down where daggers had ripped Maladil's nightrobe. Worse, gash wounds were visible on either side of the ghost's torso, and a ghastly gaping darkness where the heart had been. His hair was a long lank black, eyes of subdued coal-grey sharp enough to cut you down if he gazed at you directly and with purpose, expression a stern searching smolder, posture ready to spring. *

* The Butler followed his master only as far as the door to the Great Hall, allowing Maladil to continue on into the middle of the Hall to meet his two guests. Guilin, a man-at-arms wielding a halberd, drifted in after Maladil and stood forlorn several paces behind his master, with pleading eyes eager to speak, but keeping silent out of fear. *

* Maladil bowed with utmost courtesy, first to Poppy, then to Nardol. He made them no fair greeting, beyond carefully uttering their names until each nodded that they had heard ... "Ammmbbbaaassaadddorr." ... "Mmaaccaarr." Maladil reached out for the sack of gold with his left hand, his right still clutching his weapon, which now looked like a crutch standing to support nothing. *

* Poppy and Nardol returned Maladil's bow in kind. Nardol held out the sack until he was certain it was within Maladil's grip, then let go and withrew his arm again to his side. *

* Maladil spoke: * ... alliance ... old between ... Houses ... Elrond, Galadriel, ... Maladil ... firm. ... Laurëondo ... fight ... Orc ... fell ... Nameless Land ... seek ... come, ... servants ... perimeter ... grounds, myself ... Castle itself. ... two Nameless ..., one ... East, ... other farthest West, ... curses ... you ... brought ... West with ...! Thus Begone Hence!

* Guilin could not bear it! He whisked over to Poppy, meaning to follow her close should she turn and leave. Yes, she must go, Lord Maladil had so commanded. But on the way, she might speak to him. Guilin's halberd clattered to the floor unheeded. * "Tiiidinnggss!" he cried, "Outtt-sssiiiidde ... ww-whattt ... ?"

* Meanwhile, Maladil's sword began to glow blue, with a strong, bright light. *

[piosenniel]

Holly was surprised, to say the least, as Andreth’s book tumbled into her hands. She waved it in the general direction of its descending arc, and shoved it beneath her tunic, tucking it securely into the waistband of her breeches. The piece of embroidery waved before her nose and she read the instructions ‘to stay’. The Hobbit shrugged her shoulders at the words, and led the three further down the hallway. ‘She’s a ghost, she can follow us and tell us anything of interest if she needs to.’

‘Can you see her at all, Bird?’ Holly stepped along quickly heading for the south end of the corridor. ‘No!’ came the low whisper close to the Hobbit’s ear. ‘But if I do I’ll wring her scrawny little neck.’ Holly smirked at this reply, and glanced at Volondil, wondering if he understood that Bird had marked him as her territory. He and Olo strode on manfully after the two women, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents which might at any moment rise and drown them.

‘Well, what can you see?’ pressed the Hobbit. ‘Just a sort of tricksy glimmer, and mostly from the corner of my eyes. Her words I can only catch a few of.’ Bird looked at Holly. ‘You can’t see her at all?’ ‘Not a glimmer!’ replied Holly, ‘And all that I get is an annoying buzz in my ears.’

A wooden, maple door halted their progress. Volondil stepped forward his blade ready, and tried the handle. Unlocked, the door swung open on its creaking hinges. Olo raised the lantern and cast a light into the darkness beyond. ‘Might as well.’ said Holly to Volondil, as he looked back at her and raised his eyebrows in question.

The four stepped through the doorway, and stood just within, taking stock of their surroundings . . .

[Mithadan]

"What did he say?" whispered Poppy.

"I did not catch all the words," replied Nardol. "But it seems he is not pleased that Mithrandir accompanies us and he demands that we leave." He smirked a bit. "Hopefully, Mithrandir will not be unduly concerned about the loss of his gold."

Nardol watched as the guard approached. "Bow again, little one, and we shall take our leave." The two bowed to Maladil, even as the guard came up next to them and said "Tiiidinnggss, Outtt-sssiiiidde ... ww-whattt ... ?"

Poppy looked up at the guard nervously, but Nardol's attention was drawn elsewhere. Maladil's blade began to sparkle and glow with blue fire. "Yrch," he whispered. Then more loudly, he addressed the guard in an attempt to delay their departure. "We have come in peace," he said. "We were sent by Elrond to meet with the Lord Maladil..."

[ February 18, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Four weapons missed their mark ... daggers and arrows sailed harmlessly by. But five weapons hit! The members of the company standing just at the border of the grounds of Maladil Castle were under attack! *

* Aislan was pelted by a rock, but took only a stinging glancing blow to her back and little hurt before the rock bounced away. Alearindu was nicked by an arrow, which did minor damage of itself, but opened an old wound, for the arrow struck her already-bandaged middle! Gandalf was grazed by a spear ... but the throw was wobbly and partly deflected by an instinctively-raised staff, such that the thrown missile skittered down into the grass after rending a sleeve to draw blood from his right arm. Menelduliniel was struck more deeply by a spear in the back of her thigh, but the weapon was easily pulled out, and she could still walk. Andreth's horse Whinny took the worst of it, and though only pierced by a jagged rock in the flank, moved with lowering head and stumbly steps. In Aislan's expert opinion as a hostler, Whinny was acting as though poisoned. *

Enter the Castle grounds! * Gandalf shouted. * Horses to the stables, the rest of us into the Castle!

* While retreating, Gandalf launched a firework towards the cluster of approaching red enemy torches. The fiery missile careened in a zigzagging arc, for Gandalf's aim wavered as he stumbled over a dead tussock of brittle grass. Yet the wizard managed to slow three Orcs, who squealed on being singed and leapt to the ground rolling to stop the fingers of fire and smoke rising through their foul clothes. *

* Cirgon the Cook ran alongside of Aislan, Alearindu, Estelarion, Gandalf, Hinura, Menelduliniel, and the horses, as though the ghost considered himself a member of their company. Daerohil ran skipping and leapfrogging to the Stately Stables. *

*******************************************

* Maladil followed Nardol's glance at his sword, understanding, though not hearing any of what Nardol whispered. The Lord of Laurëondo shrieked a bellowing wail. * Yrch! To arms! To arms! Secure the Castle grounds! Guilin, retrieve your halberd from the floor and get out there! Butler, gather all the glass bottles you may, the heaviest sort, and bring them to me at the front door!

* Guilin at first nodded squinting at Nardol's words, obviously having some trouble understanding, but satisfied with what he understood. At Maladil's bellow, the man-at-arms picked up his weapon, bowed once towards Maladil, Poppy, and Nardol, and ran out. *

* Halblung and Tiroedrath darted forth swinging their swords to the edge of their territory, peering now out at the clump of Orcs with torches, peering then at the cluster of Elves and Men with lanterns and candles rushing in ahead. Halblung and Tiroedrath ignored Cirgon and gave free passage to Aislan, Alearindu, Estelarion, Gandalf, Hinura, Menelduliniel, and their horses. *

[ February 19, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

The second she crossed the door sill, the hair stood up on the back of Holly’s neck, and an uneasy feeling crept into her bones. It was cold in this dark place, and uncomfortable. And even with the lantern turned high, the air was murky and thick. Bird’s eyes were wide with barely suppressed panic.

Holly grasped Volondil’s arm and pulled him back through the door into the hallway, the moving mass of their two bodies forcing Olo and Bird further down the corridor and away from the room they had entered. Volondil closed the door as they exited and Holly led them at a rapid pace back down the hallway, heading toward the small door at the northwest corner. ‘I don’t care how much gold there is in this bloody castle, I want out of here.’ Bird only nodded as she pulled up alongside Holly and nudged her friend to a faster pace.

The four companions reached the small door, pausing in the shadows just south of the doorway. Olo had hooded the lantern, and only a small flicker of light escaped it as it hung from his hand. Moonlight poured in through the open doorway, beckoning like a silvery path to the four weary friends.

Holly drew the book that Andreth had given her from the waistband of her breeches, and peering back into the darkness from which they'd come, she whispered, 'Andreth! If you can hear me,' or understand me, 'I'm leaving your book here for you. We are leaving.' The Hobbit wrapped the book in a handkerchief and placed it on the small, dusty table near the doorway.

Volondil crept to the door and peered out. All was quiet. It was the midnight hour and the moon stood high in the dark heavens. The shadows of the trees in the orchard were at their smallest; the three graves stood on the greensward like ghoulish loaves of silvery iced lady fingers set on a green napkin.

The Ranger gave the signal, and like arrows loosed from a bow, the companions shot across the lawn to the shelter of the orchard, pausing where it met the edge of the garden against the wall. Like passing shadows they made their way to the small open gateway in the northwestern corner of the castle surround wall and flew out of it and to the shelter of the trees where Peri stood, waiting.

From their place beneath the trees they could hear the sound of tumult coming from the front entry to the castle. Bird changed to her jackdaw form and flew up to the castle roof for a better look. Less than a heartbeat, and she was back among them, warning them to be quiet and hissing one word. ‘Orcs!’

Peri startled at the word as if he understood it. His nose told him there were no Orcs before them and he pulled on Holly’s sleeve, urging her in a northwesterly direction. She grabbed his lead, and let him take the group deeper into the trees and away from the castle.

They trudged along in silence, stopping only long enough to take a pull on their waterskins or grab a handful of dried fruit to eat. It was at one of these brief respites that Holly hooked her arm through Bird’s and said she was sorry they hadn’t even made it out with any of the gold. Bird laughed and patted Peri’s saddle bag. ‘Where do you think I went with the Mewlip’s coins when I went running out to hide them?’ Holly shook her head saying she might have known Bird would think of contingencies when it came to making sure the loot left with them.

When they were far from the castle, and well into the night, Holly, thinking of Maladil and Adela, and their sad story, began to hum an old tune, then softly took up the words. Bird joined in singing harmony, their voices twining through the verses


Cold blows the wind to my true love,
And gently drops the rain.
I've never had but one true love,
And in green-wood she lies slain.

I'll do as much for my true love,
As any young man may,
I'll sit and mourn all on her grave,
For twelve months and a day.

And when twelve months and a day was passed,
The ghost did rise and speak,
"why sittest thou all on my grave
And will no let me sleep?"

"Go fetch me water from the desert,
And blood from out the stone,
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast
That young man never has known."

"My breast is cold as clay,
My breath is earthly strong,
And if you kiss my cold clay lips,
Your days they won't be long."

"How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,
Where we were want to walk,
The fairest flower that e'er I saw
Has withered to a stalk."

"When will we meet again, sweetheart,
When will we meet again?"
"When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again."

‘Even singing that gives me the shivers.’said Holly drawing her cloak tight about her.

They traveled on for many days making their way slowly back to the relative safety of Eriador. Their feet drew them north up the Brandywine River to Lake Nenuial, skirting the boundaries of the Shire, and across the Emyn Uial to the River Lhûn.

And there their story is lost . . .
___________________________________________
Child Ballads; Volume II; # 78

[ February 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked at the shimmering forms as they ran. The forms seemed to be preparing to make war. Menelduliniel had a fleeting thought of question as to what the spirits would like like fighting, but then she saw the Orcs advancing, and she turned and followed once more.

**********

Estelarion ran fairly gingerly, as he could only just make out some of the glimmers of shadow that appeared around them. He had considered aiding in whatever battle was obviously to take place, but when he saw Mithrandir run, he knew that his place was running beside Menelduliniel...or rather behind her a bit, as his careful running caused him to fall a bit behind the others...

[Mithadan]

As the shades rushed towards the door, Nardol drew his blade. Then he turned to Poppy, who seemed uncertain whether to follow. "It might be best if you left the swordplay to the larger folk, little one. Maybe you should stay here while I go to the aid of our friends."

If Poppy, was startled to hear the word 'friends' issue from Nardol's mouth, he seemed just as surprised. He shook his head and chuckled. Then he smiled down at the young Hobbit. "It is your choice, but if you follow, take care." With that, he ran out the door.

A quick glance around the courtyard revealed a point where the wall was partially obscured by a tree. He leapt up and perched there, setting his sword on the stone ledge, and pulled his bow from his shoulder. Nocking an arrow, he squinted in the dark at the advancing torches. When he could descry the silhouettes of the advancing Orcs, he let his arrow fly, quickly replacing it with a second which he loosed as well. Then he waited for a clearer target...

[ February 20, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Running with the rest of the company, Aislan worried about Whinny and her wound. Then, Gandalf took a second to look to Aislan and Alearindu. With a graceful sweep of an arm, he motioned in the direction of the Stately Stables. Or, at least the way they supposed the stables were. Both nodded, and with Whinny, Eruntale and Mornen right behind them, turned away from the rest of the company.

“Which way did Gandalf say the Stables were?” Alearindu asked as they ran into the Inner Courtyard.

Aislan shook her head: she didn’t know. Gandalf had read them a description of the Stately Stables from Andreth’s book! Why hadn’t she paid attention? Then she remembered! They were supposed to go right! Or it could have been left.

“Alearindu, did you remember anything from when Gandalf read about the Stables?” Aislan’s voice trailed off as she asked the question. Aislan could see in the grass to the left a bouncing and leaping glimmer. Aislan stared at the form, and Alearindu looked into the darkness, puzzled. Aislan went closer to the shimmering thing, but before she could get to close, the spirit sprinted away.

“Follow it!” Aislan nearly shouted, forgetting that Alearindu couldn’t see anything.

“Follow what?” Alearindu asked, looking around.

“Follow me!” Aislan answered and started to chase after the spirit. Alearindu followed closely, Mornen was right behind, while Whinny tried to keep up with her slight wound.

The spirit thing raced through the grass, running from the left to the right. Aislan kept her eye on the slight glow of the ghost, and Alearindu wondered what on earth she had seen in the first place. Turning left again, the two humans and two horses followed the ghost towards the South Wall. There, the creature bolted into the Stately Stables. The living beings followed it into the Stables. When they entered the stables, the ghost was either gone, or it was hiding.

“Where did it go?” Aislan wondered aloud, meaning the spirit that had led them there. They probably would have gotten lost if Aislan had not been able to see it.

[ February 21, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth slipped out from the darkened room, which seemed to look much like a dining chamber. She came out searching for Holly, hoping to describe what she'd seen. But Holly and Bird and the others were nowhere in sight. She floated along the corridor looking down from above, and finally saw her book sitting on a table near the door. She hastily went down to retrieve it and slid it under her sash again.

There were loud shrieks coming from the front of the castle, so she thought she'd better have a look. Making her way back towards the main gate, she was startled to see Whinney limping along, being led by Aislan and Alearindu. For the first time that night, she cursed her lack of a proper body as she could not even help or comfort her horse. She decided to stay just behind the group as she saw them make their way into the Stately Stables.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Tiroedrath the door-warden and Halblung man-at-arms drifted to the edge of the Castle grounds and stood in fighting stance with drawn swords appearing to hover at diagonal angles. Missile weapons passed right through the ghosts, who merely gazed out upon their enemy. Guilin, man-at-arms with glittering halberd catching shafts of moonlight, belatedly joined his fellow warriors to guard the boundary line that marked their curse. *

* Gandalf, inside the Outer Entryway and headed towards the Inner Courtyard, stopped in his tracks as Maladil reappeared. As luck would have it, the Lord of Laurëondo stood blocking the very same front door that the company had been running towards! *

* Maladil distractedly glanced around as though waiting for something. Gandalf motioned to Aislan and Alearindu to lead the horses leftwards to the Stately Stables. The wizard then motioned to Menelduliniel, Estelarion, and Hinura to the right, mouthing the words, "Go quickly and discreet now, bards!" Gandalf then lit the end of his staff until it blazed up with a white light, and slowly strode straight ahead to face Maladil. *

* Both of Nardol's arrows flew truly to hit their mark! The first Orc to take an arrow keeled over dead. The second Orc staggered a bit and fell to the ground with heavy groaning, its black blood further darkening the night. Two answering arrows from the Orcs went wide and cracked against the cover of trees. *

* Cirgon the Cook watched Aislan, Alearindu, the horses, Estelarion, Hinura, Menelduliniel. Then Cirgon hastened ahead of Gandalf, having glimpsed the Butler, carrying a basketful of bottles, approach Maladil. "Yes, bottles!" Cirgon cried, "Give some to me, Master Maladil, that I may join your good fighters to defend our Castle!" The cook floated away with an armful of bottles to join Guilin, Halblung, and Tiroedrath. Of the bottles thrown by Cirgon, three hit their target. *

* The Orcs hit by the bottles were not seriously hurt. Even so, no Orc dared cross the boundary of shadow onto Maladil's land, within reach of ghostly sword or halberd. *

* Gandalf spoke to Maladil, who clung uselessly to the sack of gold just presented to him in one hand, his sword Orc Bane in the other, a basket of bottles before him on the ground. * Your bottles will not avail you. Despite the most excellent aim, you cannot throw them far enough to make a difference while trapped within your door. Yet go inside with me, where we may rejoin Poppy Took. * Gandalf fell back a few steps and leaned upon his staff at Maladil's glare. The wizard shook his head as if to clear away a sudden stinging headache. *

* Under cover of the distraction provided courtesy of Cirgon and Gandalf, ... Hinura, Meneldulinion, and Estelarion had managed to slip past Maladil unnoticed and were now just inside the Castle, walking as silently as they could across its cool tiled floors. Soon they found themselves within the Great Hall, looking across at Poppy with her lantern. *

* Inside the Stately Stables, Daerohil smiled as wide as he could, bowing a greeting of welcome to his guests, just as he had in the Second Age. The ghostly stable-lad patted Eruntale, Mornen, and Rustal, hand vanishing straight through their lovely manes. Daerohil looked at Whinny, ghostly Elvish eyes brimming with concern for the trembling horse with labored breathing. "Calimiel ... know ... herb?"

* Midnight stood outside the stables, peering back around the corner of the Inner Courtyard, halfway between Aislan and Gandalf, flicking his ears first one way, then the other. Midnight bent to pull up some grass, but snorted in displeasure at the mouthful of brown weeds. *

[ February 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy looked startled as Nardol ran out to join the battle. The silent elf had changed much over the last day or two, and she was still finding it hard not to be surprised.

But should she go, or stay? She had her small dagger, but that would be no use against the orcs, and surely one so small as her could do little more than stab them in the knee. No, she would be more of a hindrance than a help. Quietly she stood in the Great Hall, the silence almost suffocating her, with only her lantern to hold on to. Where was everyone else? If something went wrong now, what would she do? Poppy’s head swam, and she prayed she wouldn’t be left alone for too late.

Her prayers seemed answered when she heard quiet footsteps on the cold floor and saw Menelduliniel and Estelarion entering the hall, looking over at her. Poppy breathed a sigh of relief, and walked over to them.

“What is happening outside? Is everything alright?” she said breathlessly, looking from one elf to the next. “And what are we to do now we are inside, and they are out there?”

[VanimaEdhel]

"Where do you suppose we should start?" Poppy said, looking fairly dubiously at all the paths open to the three.

Menelduliniel looked around at the doorways. Suddenly, the big maple door caught her eye. She liked that door. Why she liked it, she did not know. Maybe it was because it stood out amongst the stairways and open passages. It looked like it was hiding something. Or maybe it was trying to appear as if it was trying to hide something…Menelduliniel’s head suddenly started to hurt thinking about it.

She looked over and it appeared as though Estelarion and Poppy both saw the obvious door by the southwestern stairway. Menelduliniel went over and tried the handle. It was locked, of course. Menelduliniel felt somewhat foolish for not assuming that it would be.

"Look for a key!" she said, beginning to follow her own command, "But stay in this room!"

The three all went to different parts of the room, Menelduliniel looking in the doorway to the North and the staircase in the Northwest, Estelarion looking around the doorway at the South, and Poppy looking around the maple door and the southwestern staircase. Estelarion, finished searching the doorway to the South joined Menelduliniel in searching the staircase in the Northwest.

"I found it!" Poppy said, her voice echoing a bit. The two Elves ran over to where Poppy knelt on the stairway. She had found a little nook and inside that nook was a key. Menelduliniel looked at it carefully, trying to see if it was the right key or just a key to another part of the castle. Poppy got up and walked over to the maple door, easily sliding the key in and turning it in the lock. She waited for Estelarion and Menelduliniel to come before she opened the door. Menelduliniel drew her knives and Estelarion took an arrow from his quiver. Poppy, chewing on her bottom lip, slid the door open.

All three gave a fairly disappointed exhale once they went into the room. It appeared to just be an ordinary dining room. There was a door in the northwestern corner of the room that appeared to be much like the door they had just passed through. Menelduliniel ran over to that door and tried it again, once again finding only a locked door.

"Do not be so hasty to leave," Estelarion said, looking at her disappointed face, "For appearances may be deceiving. There may be something to find in this room yet...I hope."

Estelarion’s face betrayed him, showing that he, too, was disappointed that they did not find anything of use yet. He seemed to see that his face showed his emotions, however, and quickly busied himself looking around the room. Poppy also began to look around the room. Only Menelduliniel stood, looking fairly melancholy, for a few minutes.

After those few minutes passed, Menelduliniel decided that moping would do her no good right now. She began to look around the room with the others. Estelarion seemed to be poking around the walls around the door that they came in through. Poppy was poking around the big fireplace, looking up on the ledge and just within it. The silver apple and pear of the same substance particularly attracted her, but she did not touch them, for fear of upsetting an inhabitant of the room.

"What are you guys looking for?" Menelduliniel asked, thinking that she may have missed something important at some point. The others just looked at her and shrugged a bit then went back about their searching.

Menelduliniel looked at the table. One of the chairs caught her eye. It seemed to be out of place. It was at a strange angle, diagonal to the other chairs in the room. Menelduliniel put her hand forward to touch it, but drew it back, as something inside of her told her not to touch anything that seemed strange. She had learned the hard way not to touch anything that should not be touched whilst she was on a quest with Mithrandir. Touching anything usually meant either death or near-death.

Menelduliniel looked at the broken wineglass and wondered what struggle occurred in this room and why it was commemorated in such a way? Then Menelduliniel had a thought. She ran to the first door and took out the key. She brought it over to the second door. Both Poppy and Estelarion gave her a strange look as she tried the key. Much to both her and their surprise, the lock clicked and Menelduliniel pushed the door open.

They entered into what seemed to be a sitting room. There was a small mahogany table with ornate legs. Menelduliniel, however, was immediately drawn to a strong odor of flowers. She crossed over and saw lilacs of three colors. She yearned to touch them, but told herself not to.

"I have never smelled flowers that had such a strong odor," Menelduliniel commented.

"Maybe it is the surroundings," Estelarion suggested, shrugging, then commencing his new search.

All three looked around this new room, more fascinated than they were with the dining room. This room, although it was by no means less beautiful, did not have the feeling of mourning and fear that they found from the dining room.

Menelduliniel made her way over to the beautiful armchair that was in one part of the room. She sat in it, under a disapproving stare from Estelarion.

"We should not touch any–" he began, before he stopped, seeing Poppy sit down on the couch and seeing that nothing happened to either of the hasty women. He gave a small snort of surprise, then sat down.

"What do you think we ought to do?" Poppy asked, "Shall we go back?"

"After I collect my thoughts," Menelduliniel said, "I want to go over this room once more."

The three sat for a time, smelling the sweet odor of the lilacs. Finally, Menelduliniel arose and looked around the room once more. She suddenly noticed a small cabinet just to the right of the window. She had not looked in that cabinet, nor did she think that Poppy or Estelarion had done so. Menelduliniel gestured to the cabinet, then turned to Poppy and Estelarion, who both gestured for her to open it. Menelduliniel, finding that it was not locked, opened it.

There was nothing that particularly attracted Menelduliniel. She liked the tea set, yes, but there did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

She slumped back over to her chair.

"What do you propose that we do now?" Menelduliniel asked. Estelarion shrugged. Menelduliniel turned to the small Poppy and said, "You seem to hold importance on this quest. I believe that it should be you who decides what we are to do next."

Both Elves looked expectantly at the small Hobbit...

[ February 23, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy turned and wandered back into the dining room, not answering Menelduliniel’s question. The odour of the lilacs was overpowering her, as she wondered how they could be so strong.

“There must be something interesting around here,” she murmured to herself. “It can’t be that empty” Her eyes glanced up to the top of the fireplace, which seemed to hold nothing but a few ornaments, gold, and valuable surely, but nothing worth looking at. Not that she was able to reach that high, anyway. The two elves stood in the doorway and watched her, as she sighed.

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything here,” she said, gesturing around the room. “And unless there’s some way out of the sitting room, which there doesn’t seem to be, I suppose we’re back where we started. Should we try upstairs?”

Seeing nothing else of interest in the two rooms, and feeling only a strange chill in both rooms, the elves and Poppy walked out into the Great Hall once more, shutting the door behind them. Poppy took the key and locked it.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving it unlocked…” she said to the elves. “We don’t want to show the ghosts everywhere we’ve been, in case we’ve been somewhere we shouldn’t.” Nervously she rubbed her hands together, feeling the cold in the large hall, and looked around. “Where should we go now?”

There was plenty of choice. Two staircases went upstairs, and two open doorways, nothing but heavy darkness beyond them, lay open to them. Poppy looked at the elves, waiting for some signal, some response. Both seemed to be looking to the northwest staircase.

“Perhaps we should try up there,” Menelduliniel offered her opinion. “We are finding nothing down here.” Poppy nodded, and they went up the staircase, the hall lying vast and empty behind them, and uncertainty before them.

[TheLadyAerowen]

The ghost stood in front of Aislan and Alearindu, and bowed cheerfully. Aislan
and Alearindu returned the gesture. Aislan looked on in astonishment as it tried
to pat the horses, to no avail. His hand vanished through Mornen’s black coat
and Eruntale’s muzzle. Whinny breathed with difficulty, and her steps faltered
with the wound to her thigh.

“Calimiel … know … herb?” the ghost had turned to Aislan and said. Alearindu
heard nothing, but could make out a kind of heat-wave form standing near the
horses. After the ghost had spoken, Aislan translated for Alearindu what she
could.

“Who is Calimiel? Whinny,” Aislan went to the horse and examined the wound.
“Whinny is poisoned in some way.” Aislan felt ridiculous. She was talking to a
ghost! Could he even hear her? Or did he hear her the way she heard him?

“Herbs…yes! We need to clean the wound. Can you help?" Alearindu wished she
could somehow see this ghost-form that Aislan was speaking with. It’d make it
that much easier for her to try to communicate with it. But instead, she relied on Aislan who could actually see the ghost better than she could.

Alearindu walked over to Mornen’s side, and put a hand on his neck. She then
whispered to Aislan, “If I had to guess, Calimiel would be another ghost around
this Castle that your ghost knows. What I figure, is that this ghost is at least
nice to us, so maybe this Calimiel would be; therefore Calimiel could help us
heal Whinny...” Alearindu shrugged and withrew her hand from the wound in her side that had been reopened by the Orc arrow. She frowned slightly, but figured it would heal a bit quicker since the wound had been reopened; but she would like to re-bandage and clean
it, if she could find the time.

"Calimiel ... knows ... herb lore," came the reply from the ghost. He looked
meaningfully at Whinny, and the horse grunted. They'd need to clean the wound.
Not only that, they'd have to do something about Alearindu's opened wound.
Aislan's thoughts were interrupted as she heard a gasp from Alearindu next to
Mornen.

"Aislan! Look! There," Alearindu pointed to a haystack, and it seemed the hay
had been freshly laid, as though the ghost stable lad expected new live horses
to visit. The haystack seemed ordinary in every way, except for the pitchfork
sticking out of the middle of the mound of hay. The pitchfork was firmly lodged
in the chest cavity of a complete skeleton.
Aislan looked to Alearindu, complete surprise covering her face. Then she
motioned towards the stable ghost they had met. Alearindu nodded.

"How-how old do you think it is?" Aislan wondered aloud, though her voice was a
barely audible whisper. The two women tiptoed closer to the haystack; as if they
were afraid moving loudly would cause it to go away. Daerohil still floated near
Whinny behind them. They came to the haystack, and kneeled down in front of the
pitchfork and skeleton.

Alearindu studied the bones with her eyes, and then to her dismay, got curious
as to how old it was. Aislan noted this, and handed Alearindu her dagger. Aislan
watched as Alearindu tapped the bones of the ribcage lightly. The part of the
bone that was touched turned to dust, falling into the spaces of the hay and
leaving a space from one edge of the rib to the other. Handing the dagger back
to Aislan, Alearindu stood back up and turned away from the bones.

"Well, I guess it's safe to say he died a long time ago," Aislan said weakly as
she stood back up. "Anyways, I can clean Whinny's wound, but she might be
poisoned and I need more than water, a cleaner and a rag to get poison out of a horse's bloodstream." Alearindu nodded, still thinking about the misfortune of the stable hand. She glanced towards the heat-wave form, which she guessed to be the ghost of the boy, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She bowed her head and sighed softly. So much mystery lied just in the stables. What would the rest of the castle be like? Aislan returned to stand next to Eruntale and the floating Daerohil, and could feel her stomach turn at the thought of the bones belonging to the ghost next to her. Poor thing, stabbed with a pitchfork. No wonder Maladil had called them marauders.

[ February 25, 2003: Message edited by: TheLadyAerowen ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf stood his ground, shielding his mind as best he could against further attacks from Maladil. The wizard fought against a small, stinging knot of pain and pressure behind his eyes that sought a foothold there from which to grow and suffocate, spread and destroy. Surroundings blurred into ripples of shadow interspersed with drops of faraway noise run together, under the weight of bitter time that should not be relived. *

* With a sudden burst of resolve, Gandalf raised his softly-glowing staff. A bolt of lightning leapt from it, striking Maladil in the chest. Maladil staggered back, dropping his sword. Gandalf took a deep breath, thoughts clearing. *

* Things had been happening all around the two intent on their personal stand-off. The Orcs had run off, gnashing their putrid teeth about how their prey had left the range of dart and stone, spear and arrow. Cirgon, Guilin, Halblung, and Tiroedrath stood looking around aimlessly. *

* Maladil laughed hoarsely and hideously. * "So, they send an old man from the West to add insult to injury, do they? Guilin, Halblung, Tiroedrath ... slay this intruder, this Mithrandir!"

* Halblung and Tiroedrath, took a few slow uncertain steps towards the grey-cloaked figure, blades ready. Cirgon cried out, "No! He's from the West! Do not bring new curses upon us." A look from Maladil flung Cirgon to the ground whimpering. Halblung and Tiroedrath faltered, looking between Maladil and Cirgon, then looking for the Butler, who seemed to have vanished again. Guilin strode towards the grey-cloaked figure purposefully enough, but not for the purpose of battle. Instead, Guilin called out, "Tidings, Mithrandir! What tidings from outside?"

* Gandalf strode over to Cirgon and reached out a hand as though to help the ghost regain his feet. * "Walk with me," he beckoned to Guilin, and Halblung, and Tiroedrath, turning his back on Maladil. *

*******************************************

Daerohil wanted to help. He shivered just looking at the shivering horse. "Hide-and-seek ... Calimiel ... come! Horses safe."

* Daerohil glided off at a light run through an entrance, leading his esteemed and honorable visitors on a merry chase through the Inner Courtyard, through a small door, through a corridor, through the Great Hall, up the South West staircase, shouting Calimiel's name as he ran ... *

[ February 25, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth had followed along behind Daerohil, beng very careful to stay out of sight. Neither the ghost or her companions from the road seemed to be aware of or acknowledge her presence. She glided easily along above the others, watching from afar as they took off on their merry chase through the central courtyard, round about, and up the southwest staircase. Andreth could hear and see Daerohil very clearly and couldn't figure out why the others couldn't do the same.

And just who or what was this Calimiel that the ghost kept mentioning? Was she perhaps some sort of horse doctor who would make sure that Whinney would be all right. Presently, Andreth had only one major concern. She was not thinking of Maladil or the deed to the castle or any of the other reasons she was supposed to be here. Her ony concern was her poor pony who seemed to be getting weaker.

If she could see and hear Daerohil, then perhaps he could do the same with her, and they could actually talk. She flitted quickly in front of the group and came slamming down on top of Daerohil, or rather floating down might be the better description. She placed herself at the very top of the staircase, hoping to block off his avenue of retreat so she could squeeze some information out of him.

"You there, Daerohil, I've had enough. Can you help my pony Whinney or not? Just where are you taking us? And who is this Calimiel of which you speak? And, finally, while we're at it, you wouldn't have happened to see a stray deed to the castle floating about now?

She set her hand on her hip and waited for an answer, wondering if one would come.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* It was twenty-three minutes after midnight. Daerohil drew back at the unfamiliar spirit of the older girl before him, startled but not frightened. *

You are new? There were other new ones, they left. Saw them from the stables, tried to follow them. Might be an herb in the garden for Whinney, Calimiel will know. The little mistress of the Castle. Of deeds I know naught, I'm but a stable lad!

* Daerohil giggled with good humor. * Move now, or I'll run right through you! I'm finding Calimiel. Real hide-and-seek!

[Mithadan]

As the Orcs retreated, Nardol smiled grimly, then jumped down from the wall and raced across the courtyard. As he approached the castle he saw a startling sight. Maladil stood before Gandalf radiating a palpable menace. The wizard slumped a bit, as if affected by Maladil's projections of malice. Then he straightened and sent a glowing bolt from his staff into the chest of the shade.

As Nardol approached, Maladil hissed something inaudible and the other spirits advanced on Mithrandir. But they did not threaten him with their weapons. Instead, the wizard spoke to them and they turned together towards the gate. In doing so, Gandalf turned his back on Maladil, who, after a moment's hesitation seized his sword and raised it. Nardol leapt forward and stepped between the shade and the wizard, holding only his bow.

"Thou wouldst strike an opponent from behind?" Nardol shouted. "Look a kinsman in the eyes and then strike a blow if thy heart has turned so far from the ways of honour." With that, Nardol dropped his bow to the ground and spread his arms wide...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

"... quarrel ... not ... you, warrior. ... unreasonable foe ... measures ... bide time ... reason ... strike." * Maladil sheathed his blade, meeting Nardol's gaze with calm respect. *

* Gandalf turned slightly even as he continued slowly pacing away from Maladil's door. Catching Nardol's eye, he bowed unobtrusively, breathing a smile of gratitude and relief. Once out of reach of Maladil's sword, ... for the Lord of Laurëondo could not step beyond his door, Gandalf gestured with his staff towards the sack of gold. *

Soothly Maladil, the honor of which Nardol speaks applies as well to that alliance you've just now renewed in our hearing. You've seen Nardol's valiance, now show him yours. Your lands are ringed by Orcs who would beset us should we leave now. Thus you see Nardol and I here as seekers of a safe haven willing to fight alongside you, and not against you.

* It being 12:30 a.m., and Maladil enchained in ghastly habit, he scowled, then drifted into the Great Hall and stood before a fireplace. The Butler, bearing the basket of remaining bottles, followed his master. No bottles would remain for long. *

* Gandalf sat on a fragrantly-soft decaying downed log, surrounded by Cirgon, Guilin, Tiroedrath, and Halblung. Setting down the staff in his right hand, he absently reached over with his left hand to massage his right arm. He was bleeding from the Orc spear, and had forgotten until now. Rinsing the wound with water from a leather skin, then tightly wrapping the affected arm with the grey folds of his sleeve, Gandalf looked at Guilin. *

You wish for tidings? You shall have more! Tidings and freedom! Plenty of time to share tales when you reach Valinor. Help Nardol, myself, the rest of us. For 'tis said, "the key to unlock any door lies within your mind and heart." Then you will need not depend on us alone for news of the outside.

* Gandalf asked each ghost his name, then spoke of the doings at Lothlórien, and Rivendell, and Mirkwood ... and o, there were gasps all around from those troubled spirits of the Second Age just learning what had become of Greenwood. He then regaled them with the adventures befallen since setting out from the Prancing Pony with a baby oliphaunt in tow. *

* Gandalf masked the concern he felt now that Maladil had returned inside the Castle. But at least Cirgon, Guilin, Halblung, and Tiroedrath were safely outside the Castle while Menelduliniel, Estelarion, Hinura, Poppy, and Aislan, Alearindu and Andreth were within, looking for the deed that would lift the curse. He'd tell the ghost-warriors all the tidings they wanted. *

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[tangerine]

Hinura had hidden for a moment or two in a nook of the Great Hall, fearing that she had been seen by one of the more hostile ghosts. By the time she came out of her hiding spot, the two Elves and Poppy were nowhere to be seen.

Hinura cursed herself silently, angry and afraid. She had not wanted to be alone in this haunted place, and yet it seemed that she would now be exploring it with only her shadow to watch her back. It took all of her resolve not to bolt for the door to the outside, where she who be revealed. Taking slow, steady steps, she began to walk towards the stair in the northwest corner of the hall. Gripping the crumbling stone handrail, she ascended to the top and peered down a corridor that headed south. The faintest light came from a doorway on the right side of the hall, and Hinura moved gladly toward it. This place felt so close and musty to her, though the hallway itself was spacious and wide, and the ceilings were high in the hall down below. As she approached the door, Hinura felt a sharp pang of longing for the fresh forest air that she had only recently breathed, or the friendly, open feeling of a crowded inn. This was a dead place; the air itself seemed to have forsaken any sort of wholesome life.

The first thing she saw upon stepping over the threshold of the room was the large window facing the West; the light of the Moon and stars filled the room, which seemed rather large, with a soft light. There were bookshelves in the centre of this room; surely it must be a library of some sort. It occured to her that if there were any papers left to be found, that this would be the most logical place to start looking.

A chiil ran down her spine as she walked further into the room, and she looked nervously around, searching for prying eyes, clutching the little harp as if it were a talisman to ward off evil. Her other hand almost unconciously strayed to the hilt of her knife, fingers lightly brushing the handle to ensue her that it was still there if she might be needing it.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel pushed against the Western Door. It would not budge. She tried again, to no avail. She looked around, but found no key. Estelarion and Poppy aided in her search, having no more success than she had.

Finally, Poppy slowly turned the nob to the birch door that stood to the East. It opened easily and quietly. Poppy swung the door open, only to behold a shimmering image sitting upon a bed. Kenelm sat, playing his harp.

When they entered, the spirit stopped and looked at them suspiciously.

Estelarion saw nothing but a shimmering, but saw enough in Menelduliniel's expression.

"What do you see?" he asked her.

"A shade," she whispered simply, "He was playing the harp, but he stopped upon our entrance."

Kenelm continued to give them suspicious glances as he rose and came towards them. He stopped a few paces from them.

"Who...you?" Poppy and Menelduliniel heard. Estelarion did not hear any of this sentence. The two women looked at each other, debating how to respond.

"I am Menelduliniel, an Elf," Menelduliniel finally said, "This is Poppy. And that," she pointed, "Is Estelarion. He cannot see you."

"...can?" Kenelm said, looking at them curiously.

"Yes," Menelduliniel said.

Estelarion looked at the conversationalists, only hearing Menelduliniel's words and a few of Kenelm's.

"What do you propose we do?" Menelduliniel said to Poppy.

"What brings...here?" Kenelm asked them.

"We are with Gandalf the Grey," Menelduliniel said. Kenelm nodded.

"...danger," he said. Menelduliniel, in turn nodded.

"Aye, so we found," she said.

Estelarion, thoroughly confused due to his lack of skill in communicating with these shades grew bored and began to look around the room a bit. Suddenly, Estelarion spotted the skeleton on the bed next to the shimmering "form", its mouth open in a hideous scream. Estelarion's entire body gave a jolt. Menelduliniel, who had already seen the skeleton, touched Estelarion's arm, as she did not really want Poppy to see it, if she had not already done so. She did not want to frighten the poor girl.

"We seek to help you," she continued, "We seek a deed. Do you know where it is?"

Kenelm looked at them sadly, "I cannot tell you anything," he said, "It is not allowable for me to do so."

Menelduliniel looked at the beautiful spirit and felt that she was going to cry. She yearned to know his story. Yet, somehow she knew that it would be futile to pry into Kenelm's life...or what could be deemed "existence" now, she supposed.

Kenelm looked at the three with interest. Menelduliniel wondered if he had seen living beings recently. She decided that they still had a mission to fulfill and, as Kenelm was not permitted to tell them anything, they should probably live.

"Well," she said finally, "I guess...I suppose...we must go."

Menelduliniel looked wistfully around the room, wishing she could stay but not wanting to disturm Kenelm anymore.

"I suppose we should leave?" Menelduliniel said to Poppy, who nodded, also seeming disappointed that they had to leave. Menelduliniel nodded to Estelarion and they moved back towards the doorway.

"We apologize for disturbing you," Poppy said as Kenelm immediately went back to his harp.

Out in the hallway, Menelduliniel looked at Estelarion and Poppy, depressed.

"I really wish he could have told us something," she said, mournfully, "And I wish we could get behind that Western door."

Menelduliniel trudged down the stairs, the other two following her. Menelduliniel sat near the bottom of the stairs and the other two followed her example.

The three sat on the stairs, regrouping and trying to figure out what their next plan should be. So far, both of their decisions had ended up harmless, yet useless. Menelduliniel was beginning to lose hope that they would indeed complete Gandalf's mission.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aislan watched in astonishment as a second glimmer being floated in front of their guide at the top of the stairs. Another ghost! Was this new ghost Calimiel?

"What's happening? Why are we stopping?" Alearindu asked from beside Aislan. Aislan put a finger to her lips and listened carefully to the conversation between the two ghosts.

"Something about 'enough'. Then she says -I think it's a she- or maybe she asks something about Whinny. Umm, then something about this Calimiel we are looking for-I don't think she's Calimiel. And where we're going. Something to that extent," Alearindu's brows furrowed in question, and Aislan shrugged, not understanding much herself.

"It sounds like she knows Whinny..." Alearindu commented.

"Andreth!" Both women exclaimed, recalling their companion from the road. Whinny was Andreth's horse! Aislan smiled and then stopped, realizing that their stable friend had come up with an answer.

"Something about 'new ones' whatever that means. Then he says Herb, Calimiel, and Mistress. Lastly he speaks of deeds and stable lads," Aislan translated for Alearindu. Aislan listened for more, and the jolly Stable Lad did speak again. “Oh! He says ‘find’ and ‘Calimiel’! And…and Hide-seek! Does that make sense?” Alearindu shook her head in a definite ‘No’.

A strange, wail-like noise bounced off the dusty walls, and Aislan almost moved to cover her ears. Then, when she realized what it was, she nearly laughed herself. Alearindu and Aislan’s ghostly friend was giggling! Alearindu held an upset look, as though frustrated for not being able to hear much.

The Stable Lad had been friendly enough, certainly not hostile. What would happen when they met this Calimiel person? The Stable Lad was a giddy little spirit, but who were they to say that all the ghosts were like that? Maladil definitely didn’t seem to welcome the idea of live beings prancing about his castle.

Alearindu and Aislan were both anxious for the time when they could move on and find Calimiel. They could just run through the spirits, but then where would they go? They’d have to wait for the confrontation between the giggle-spirit and Andreth to blow over, then the two women could follow their friend.

[ March 03, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Susan Delgado]

Calimiel...

The word was a whisper in their minds, faint with distance and their own life, and it brought both girls to their feet with a leap. Why would Daerohil be calling to Calimiel? They ran to the edge of the roof and peered over, into the Inner Courtyard. They looked around for the stable boy, ignoring the living folk still milling around. They didn’t see him at first, then spotted him near the stables, with some living folk trailing behind. They watched as the group filed in through the Inner Entry and turned to each other.

“What does he want? Why is Daerohil calling me?” Calimiel asked, confused. She and Daerohil had rarely spoken, and even then it was little more than a nodded greeting. Maladil’s daughter had little to say to the boy who kept the stables.

“I don’t know.” Anna glanced back over the edge, but they had already gone into the castle and out of sight.

“Let’s go find him!” Calimiel started toward the door leading downstairs and ignored Anna’s calls of, “Wait!”

“What?” Calimiel snapped when Anna overtook her and grabbed her arm.

“We can’t just go rushing down without looking. What if Celumëomaryu is down there? She’ll put us back in the cell.”

Calimiel frowned. That certainly wasn’t what she wanted. “What do we do then?”

“Same thing we did coming up here. You have to tell me if we’re getting close to her.”

Calimiel made a face. For a moment, she looked as though she would argue, but all she did was sigh and close her eyes. She moved resolutely toward the door, Anna following in her wake.

Calimiel led the way down the stairs and back out through the secret door. When they reached the stairs leading down to the second floor, she paused for a moment and stood, as if listening. “Celumëomaryu isn’t down there, although...” She opened her eyes and frowned. “She isn’t down there, but Kenelm is, and I think there’s somebody else. I can’t tell who.” She shrugged, and glanced back at Anna as she started down the stairs.

They paused just before they got to the bottom and peered around cautiously. They saw nothing, though they heard voices coming from Kenelm’s quarters. They crept into the Library, careful to keep the stacks between themselves and Kenelm’s open door. When they approached the clear space between his door and the stairs, they paused, trying to decide how they’d get downstairs without being noticed. They could still hear Daerohil’s voice calling from somewhere downstairs, coming closer even as they waited.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Calimiel sniffled and sneezed at the dust-encaked tomes, brittle-cracking scrolls and age-warped cedar shelves in the darkened library. Sneezing was at once pleasant and annoying, for although it was an earthy physical sensation, it tickled and she couldn't stop it. * "Come on Anna, no use hiding from Celumëomaryu here, I'll only make too much noise." * Without waiting for an answer, Calimiel broke into a shuffling run in shoes extra heavy after hundreds of lifetimes of Men drifting airily in ghost form. Heedless she plowed down the staircase from which Daerohil's fair calling voice lilted up. *

* Hiding unnoticed in a far corner was Hinura, who allowed herself a small sigh of relief when the two strangers, one of whom was named Anna, retreated from the library. Wondering what her next move might be, Hinura's eyes caught a gentle gleaming. She followed the gleaming to its source: a statue. *

* The statue, mainly of golden granite atop a base of black marble, depicted two male Elves and two females of the race of Men: Fëanor, on the right, standing behind Maladil and placing a hand on Maladil's shoulder. Similarly, Haleth, on the left, standing behind Adela and placing a hand on Adela's' shoulder. Maladil's left hand held Adela's right hand. Maladil's right hand wielded a sword closely resembling OrcBane, the weapon being upraised. Adela's left hand brandished a large iron shield bearing the etched words HAVEN OF LAUREONDO. *

* It being 12:35 a.m., moonlight and starlight wafting through the Western window enabled Hinura to see softly-glowing bluish white ithildin moon rune letters: SING, ONE KEY. *

* Andreth found herself plowed into, but not by the cheery Daerohil. Wheeling around, she faced down two females, very much alive. That's when the small thudding clunk sound of a dropped book echoed. Calimiel bent down with eager hands and arms to pick up the prized book that had made the journey to Castle Maladil with Andreth ... red-bound with letters of gold whose cover bore the name "Laurëondo". An indignant gasp escaped the daughter of Maladil as she looked at / through Andreth's transparent form. * "Hey! My book ... our family book. How did you get hold of it? Well, no harm done, I'll reshelve it in the library, put it back where it belongs, after looking at it in my room for a bit. So long since I've read a book! Ai, but I forget. It's not safe here any longer." * Calimiel trailed off into a remembering mutter, then remembered herself and spoke to Daerohil. * "You called me? Why, stable lad? And who are these people?" * Calimiel looked appraisingly at Aislan, and at Alearindu. *

* Meanwhile, Menelduliniel sat dejectedly on the cold stone stairs. Estelarion stood nearby with arms crossed, tapping his foot. Poppy looked about with catlike curiosity, clinging tight to her lantern. Suddenly, a chill breath moved through the air and stopped directly in front of the group. With an enigmatic grin that nobody could figure out whether it was intended to frighten or reassure, the gaunt but elegant shimmering figure gave a half-bow. * " ... introduce myself ... Butler. Where ... going?"

[ March 06, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth saw Calimiel grasping her cherished family book in her arms. For one instant, she thought to turn and wrench it out of her hands. But then she stopped and thought a minute. Perhaps she will put the book away and lead me to a place in the Castle where precious things are kept.

She tried to call over to Aisland and Alearindu to show that she was going to follow Calimiel into her chamber.

"Companions, I follow Calimiel who goes to look at my book, and then says she will store it in a safe place. I wish to see what this safe place is. Perhaps it will contain a clue for us."

Andreth flitted inside, and hid behind a pillar as Calimiel took out her precious book, turning the pages over, one-by-one. Then Calimiel stood up and began to walk to the shelves where she intended to shelve the volume. Andreth remained hidden. She wondered if she should talk to the girl, but decided against it. Perhaps, more could be seen through her actions rather than her words.

Andreth looked with amazement as Calimiel took the volume and came up to the bookshelf, intending to shelve it. Andreth sat quietly wondering what would happen next.

[tangerine]

"Sing, one key..."
Hinura pondered the meaning of these runes from her vantage point in the corner. It could be a riddle. Hadn't Bird said something aboutriddles earlier. It didn't matter now, Bird wasn't here, and riddles had never been one of her great strengths. She prefered to think in straight lines, not around corners
Thoughtfully, Hinura looked at her harp. Perhaps it was meant to be taken literally with a song as the key to something. It was an intriging idea, and worth a try.
Hinura rose slowly from the corner- she seemed to be spending alot of time hiding in corners since arriving here, she thought ruefully. Taking slow cautious steps towards the statue, she knelt down and gently ran her fingers over the moon runes. After a moment of studying the runes, she bowed her head and began to sing in a soft, low voice, so as not to attract the attention of any of the castle's inhabitants nearby:


Ill ù ill ò illean 's ò
Ill ù ill ò cha d'fhuair mi 'n cadal
Ill ù ill ò illean 's ò

'S ann air madainn mhoich Di Dòmhnaich
Dh'òrdaich mi bhi aig a' bhaile

Far am bitheadh na frolaigean sunndach
'S fir 'gan rùsgadh dol a shabaid

'Illean a chaidil an oidhche
Bithibh taingeil anns a' mhadainn

Mise seo a' dìreadh chrann
'S sibhse 'tarraing srann fon phlaididh

Nuair a théid mi Bhràigh na h-Aibhneadh
Bidh mo chuimhn' air oidhche Shathuirn'


Looking up again, Hinura looked around to see if her song had had any effect.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked at the Butler, along with Poppy. Estelarion looked at the spot where he heard the word "Butler" spoken. He looked at Menelduliniel and Poppy, who mouthed, "Butler" at him. That was not very helpful, but he did not complain. The three of them arose and Menelduliniel approached the Butler.

"We look for deeds," she said to the Butler, who listened to them, "They-they will free you from the curse that holds you in these bitter walls. If-if you can help us find them...well...will you aid us? We only desire to aid you."

The Butler looked at them, an image of hope passing over his ghastly face. Then, it quickly changed to worry, and then a look of serious contemplation came over that transparent face. The three stood there with the shade for some time, awaiting a reply. Finally, Menelduliniel and Poppy saw him look up.

"I will try to help you," he said finally, "But you must promise me that you will never tell anyone. Never, never, never tell anyone that I aided you. Do not even tell Maladil. If you tell," he said, adding a hint of ferocity in his voice, "You shall have a dark future indeed. You should not break a vow to a spirit. If-"

"We will tell no one," Menelduliniel broke in, catching about every other word of what the Butler said. She knew that they needed to get moving if they were to break the curse. The Butler looked at the three closely, then, taking a risk and trusting them, he ran off into the Castle.

The Butler made a show of running into various rooms and rummaging through compartments. After a good while, all three became a little nervous.

"You do suppose he is leading us correctly and is not trying to trap us, right?" Poppy whispered.

"I think he would have trapped us already if he wanted to," Menelduliniel replied, "Anyway, we are helping him."

"But what if he does not trust us?" Poppy asked.

"We must take that risk," Estelarion hissed.

Suddenly, the Butler's shimmery image disappeared from Menelduliniel and Poppy's view. They spun around with concerned looks on their faces.

"Where did he go?" Poppy asked. Menelduliniel spun, her eyes wild.

"You cannot see him?" Estelarion said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

The three stood for some time, worried. Finally, the shimmery form of the Butler appeared through the wall, carrying some papers.

"I hope these might aid you," the Butler said, handing some papers to Menelduliniel. "I assumed you could read the letters, as you are of the Elven kindred. And that one there," he said, gesturing to Estelarion, "Cannot communicate with me. You seem to have a talent with speaking to the dead."

Menelduliniel smiled at the compliments this spirit gave her, "Yes, I can read it."

Menelduliniel looked at the papers and began to read them to herself...

[ March 07, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Andreth's eyes widened in astonishment as she watched Calimiel shelve the family book of Laurëondo next to an identical book ... an exact replica in every way except that this other book had a dark green cover with gold lettering. She could tell by looking at the spine of the dark green Laurëondo book that it had survived the long crush of years in good condition, and had in fact been carefully kept free from the conquering dust that lay heavy on the surrounding library shelves. *

* Andreth startled a bit at the sight of a solid form emerging from a corner hiding place. The form did not go anywhere near Calimiel, but instead strode over to a statue upon which the nightlights of moon and star played, reminiscent of the song about Night Lights they had earlier sung with Menelduliniel and Estelarion and Hinura outside the Castle gates. The lights were now gently etching letters on the statue. From the sound of singing that started next to the statue, Andreth finally recognized the form as the bard Hinura. *

* As the last notes of Hinura's song wove themselves into rippling patterns of light and air, the dark shield held in Adela's gold granite hand tilted upside-down with slow majesty, to reveal a key of solid gold. Hinura smiled in wonderment, reached out a tentative hand, encircled her palm around the key, picked it up, held it up next to the window where she could see better. ... *

* Calimiel's new eyes caught the sparkling key. Maladil's daughter flounced over on angry feet, unsteady with confusion, but then grasped Hinura's wrist firmly enough to be threatening. * Who are you, and why have you taken this key?

[ March 07, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Among the papers Menelduliniel read were the following:

* Ledgers having to do with accounting, purchases, pay for salaried castle servants and travelling providers of goods and services who supplied the needs of the castle.

* Records of family trees - genealogies for Maladil and Adela tracing back to the Houses of Fëanor and of Haleth respectively.

* Letters from friends, kin, allies at arms regarding visits and stays at the castle past, present, and intended. Some of the visits mentioned in the letters never came to pass, for the curse intervened.

* A letter from the Second Age penned by Elrond of Imladris warning of bands of retreating Orcs moving Southwards and attacking even as they fled.

* A note hinting at the location of the Deed to Laurëondo, and instructions for best getting at the deed without inadvertantly damaging the document or setting off a trap. The note read in part, "Within the green leather-bound book with gilt letters, locked, folded up, inside the back cover beneath an extra layer of green leather lies hid the deed.

"Careful not to rend the book
nor open without turning the key,
for who without permission look,
will end ungracefully."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth flitted down beside where Hinura knelt with the key, laying a hand on her shoulder. Already, her hand was a little more solid and less ghostlike, yet it still slipped through Hinura's body. Thinking desperately of some way to divert Calamiel's attention, she could think of no better plan than telling her the truth.

Before she did, she turned to the other companions, hoping they could hear her. "Run fast. Get Gandalf. He will know what to do."

She stood directly before Calamiel, staring her straight in the eye. "Stop, Calamiel. Lay no hand on Hinura for he is a friend. I charge you this as your kinswoman, for I am Andreth, daughter of the house of Haleth. I am descended from Arthad, younger brother to Adela."

"On my honor as your kinswoman, I wish you and your family no harm. I have come here risking my own life to see if we could help you. This is no life here that you live. There is a place of goodness beyond, but you may not go there until this cursed spell is broken."

"Please help us to find the deed, and the path will be open to you to depart. I beg you for your help."

Calamiel looked at her skeptically. "How do I know you speak the truth?"

Andreth quickly spoke, "I will recite my family lineage to you." And the girl began reciting long lists of names.

"Stop!" Calamiel cried. "This may be some trick."

"Then I will show you something which is not a trick, but a family treasure and job." Andreth took a chain off from around her neck. And it was very ancient. She tossed it down to Calamiel. On the back of the golden pendent, it said thus, From Adela.....With love, to my brother Arthad. And it bore the date when Adela left home to wed with the Elf Maladil.

At that moment, Andreth became a little more solid, so that Calamiel could see her more clearly. She leaned over and put her hand over Calamiel's, "Please help us help you."

[TheLadyAerowen]

“You called me? Why, stable lad? And who are these people?" The living woman’s eyes bore down on Aislan and Alearindu. Was this Calimiel?

“She’s Calimiel. Why else would she have said that our friend had called her?” Alearindu pointed out to Aislan, in a hurried whisper.

“If she’s Calimiel, how would she know the Stable Lad had called her? She’s…alive…” Aislan’s voice trailed off.

While Aislan considered the situation, Alearindu realized something: if this Calimiel was living, she could communicate with her! She wouldn’t need Aislan as a translator! Things would go much more smoothly.

For the moment, though, Calimiel's attention was all taken up by the book that Andreth had brought with her to Castle Maladil.

****************************************

Andreth then went to hide behind a pillar, as she watched Calimiel closely; Alearindu and Aislan followed her.

"Companions, I follow Calimiel who goes to look at my book, and then says she will store it in a safe place. I wish to see what this safe place is. Perhaps it will contain a clue for us." Andreth spoke.

Andreth then looked with amazement as Calimiel took the volume and came up to the bookshelf, intending to shelve it. Andreth sat quietly wondering what would happen next. She then watched as Calimiel shelved the other book next to an identical one. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Andreth saw Hinura, the bard, standing near the statue upon which the nightlights of moon and star played, and Hinura sang a reminiscent of the song about the Night Lights. When Hinura was finished, the stone hand of Adela tilted upside-down, and Hinura reached out and picked up a key.

Calimiel then saw the key with her eyes. She quickly strode over to Hinura and grasped her wrist. “Who are you, and why have you taken this key?” She asked Hinura.

****************************************

With Andreth showing Calimiel the golden pendant engraved with the words "From Adela.....With love, to my brother Arthad," the ranger Alearindu felt it time to make another effort to speak to Calimiel as well.

Alearindu had watched as Calimiel angrily walked to Hinura, and then as Andreth followed Calmiel and tried to calm her. Alearindu also took action, and strode over to the three of them. She cautiously placed a hand on Calimiel's shoulder and began talking; "Calimiel.." she said slowly, not being entirely sure it was even Calimiel:

"Surely this key will help us more than hurt us..surely you know what it goes to..I know nothing of it, but I don't believe it's worth harming anyone over.." Alearindu ended, just trying to make sure nothing unnecessary happened. She glanced at Hinura and Andreth and wondered if either of them had a hint where the key could go.

“I’m Alearindu. This is Aislan,” Alearindu bowed and Aislan tried to curtsy, but wobbled clumsily.

“Our friend here, the stable lad-“

“Daerohil,” Calimiel supplied, interrupting Aislan.

“Yes, Daerohil. He said you would know if there was an herb that could help our poisoned horse. She’s in a lot of pain, from what I can see. Perhaps you could help us in some way? Or shall we go back to the Stately Stables and hope for a miracle for Whinny?” Aislan hoped that Calimiel would be able to help.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* It was now 1:45 a.m. *

* Calimiel fingered the smooth golden pendant, pressing cold furls of chain into the warm palm of her hand. Cocking her head to one side, she tossed her newly-acquired raven tresses back out of her face over one shoulder. True, the raven tresses were gritty and tangled from dire imprisonment with the need to hide underneath those who had died in the same cell. The desperate attempt to escape detection had failed, of course. She rather missed her natural dark copper hair tending towards auburn. Still it was long full hair, Calimiel's hair now. *

* Calimiel glanced at the avenging sword poised in the hand of the eerie father-statue, then cast down her eyes to Alearindu's sword. *

Andreth, as we are kin, mae govannen, descended of Adela and Haleth ... But alas, that you are come hither! May you be able to depart more freely than I. * Calimiel released Hinura's wrist and curtsied, stiff and teetering. *

* Calimiel straightened, looking overlong at Aislan because she too was unsteady on her feet, then gazed at Alearindu. * Hail Hinura, Alearindu, Aislan. You come here as a beggar, as does Andreth, seeking my help. I can cure your horse, if I can reach the animal in time. But give you the Castle? I might be killed for it ... by Father, or the door-warden, or one of the men-at-arms. And even if I live, where would I be taken? Not to any place of light, I fear. But I will help your Whinny, Aislan, if I may ride this horse around the grounds.

******************************************

"Run fast. Get Gandalf. He will know what to do."

* Daerohil loved to run, loved going fast, loved playing hide-and-seek. So off he scurried, the stable lad. Smiling, that he'd found Calimiel so quick. Now he'd find Gandalf, whoever he was. And then it would be Daerohil's turn to hide again. Hide deep under the hay, so the Orcs couldn't find him. *

[ March 11, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[*Varda*]

Menelduliniel looked at the papers the Butler had given her, scanning down the pages, her face forming a look of shock as she came to a small piece of paper at the back. She bent down and passed them to Poppy, who quickly glanced through them. Most were family trees, and letters that appeared to bear no real importance, but soon she too saw what Menelduliniel had seen. She read it out for the benefit of Estelarion.

"Within the green leather-bound book with gilt letters, locked, folded up, inside the back cover beneath an extra layer of green leather lies hid the deed.”

"Careful not to rend the book
nor open without turning the key,
for who without permission look,
will end ungracefully."

“This is it!” the hobbit cried. “But where will we find the book?” Instinctively, her eyes started darting around the Great Hall, as though expecting the book to appear right before her eyes.

“Before finding the book,” Menelduliniel pointed out, “we must find the key.” Poppy’s face fell, reading over the note again, and realising the problem.
“But where could it be?” said Estelarion. “The place is big, and so small a thing could be hidden anywhere.”

“It’s possible that others have found it,” Menelduliniel answered. “If that be the case, we should not linger here. If we keep searching, we may at least come across the others, and can tell them of this. We have to show them this.”

“But which way should we go?” asked Poppy anxiously. “We have already been through there, and up the staircase. Perhaps we should try one of those doorways?” The three of them could see nothing beyond it but heavy darkness, but cautiously Poppy went towards the northern door, and stepped through. She screwed up her eyes to better see, and made out three solid steel doors directly ahead of her. She pushed against them, and tried to open one, but they were locked.

Looking westwards along the corridor, she saw nothing. Menelduliniel and Estelarion, who had followed her in, ventured eastwards down the corridor.

“Poppy,” Estelarion called. “The kitchen is through here, we’re going to look around.” They disappeared through the door, and Poppy, after looking around hopelessly for another room they could get into, followed after them.

[Belin]

Oddly, Celumëomaryu lingered by the gate where the intruders who'd opposed the Mewlips had gone out. Ignoring with a shudder a booming voice that she suspected was not Maladil's, she had heard the speech of these four in fragments and shreds, and had understood less than she'd heard, (though the name of Andreth was from the first a somehow tantalizingly familiar one to her). They spoke of the gold, that much was certain. Robbers? Likely enough, yes, but what business was it of hers? She was no guardian of the castle now. Nevertheless, she had hovered within earshot of them, listening with all her might. Ah, the relief of hearing people--robbers, gamblers, fools, or whatever they may have been-- speak of gold again! So it was that she'd still been considering and not deciding when they quietly took their leave.

She stared through the gate into the forest beyond. Until the day before, she hadn't been outside in what probably amounted to years,and not for years before her death had she looked out into the forest. Outside walked the living, she thought, probably far more often than she'd imagined, singing just as this group had.

How strange they were, she thought. Mortals at half the usual height, and that odd woman whose body seemed have as much fluidity, though of a different kind, as a spirit did. Something odd was happening. She was sure of it.

But she lingered by the gate. These were very sensible people, and they'd have none of whatever it was. And she... She was a prisoner here; she'd have to see it. But not yet. And not yet.

....Anna and Calimiel?....

With a sigh, she turned away from the gate, singing over again, slightly inaccurately, a few of the words she'd caught from the robbers. Why do you sit upon my grave, and will not let me sleep?

Sleep indeed. She had prisoners of her own to think of. Suppose the intruders had found them? Suppose they'd found the library? The thought of their gross living fingers picking up her broken seashells, pocketing her round blue gem, breaking her shard of pottery, looking through her window onto land that was probably some kind of a frivolous adventure to them, spurred her to action, and she sped back to the castle, cursing the Butler under her breath, and herself for treating with him as she had.

*****

She stared in at the library in shock and horror....and in fury.

[tangerine]

Hinura groaned inwardly. This Calimiel still did not understand their purpose in this place, not really. It was entirly understandable; All they had seen on the way here were robbers and pillagers, and the age-long isolation here in the castle could not encourage much trust, especially in strangers.
"Calamiel," she asked in low, firm voice. "We intend no ill in what we ask. This was a place filled with light once, and it has the potential to be so once more. This may release the shades of this place to their appointed places in the West."
A strong feeling of unease suddenly took her. Hinura turned slowly towards the doorway, where a figure shrouded in mist seemed to hover, radiating wrath. She glanced back at Calimiel who had turned as white as a sheet. This was obviously not a happy reunion. Hiding the key inside her fist, Hinura began to reach slowly for the last unburned rod that she carried.

[Mithadan]

Nardol stood uncertainly outside the Castle. The Orcs had been driven off for now though he could hear the sounds of scouts returning to the lands outside the Castle walls. Maladil had gone back into the Castle, so Gandalf was safe. Yet an assortment of shades lingered nearby, giving him pause.

He did not know where his comrades had gone and if he entered it might take some time to locate them. He was also reluctant to leave Gandalf alone against the event that Maladil returned. After some hesitation, he climbed the steps and stood within the arch of the gate, peering inside...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The quiet of the Castle seemed even more evil than the stormy raving shouts and crashes of Maladil's latest tantrum in by the fireplace at the Great Hall. Maladil crept up and spied on the people outside in the Inner Courtyard now, from a window at the Inner Entry, right beside the front door. Yes, he'd been weakened by the lightning bolt hurled by his enemy. But the Old Man of the West fared little better, for he appeared to be fighting off sleep, and was favoring an arm in a blood-stained sleeve ... and on top of everything appeared to have gone delirious, for here he was, juggling fireballs of purple, blue, and green. The juggling was choppy and uncertain, but worst of all was how his men ... HIS MEN ... were laughing and applauding the doddering old fool! There they were, the brave Tiroedrath, and Guilin, and Halblung, turned traitor. And the snivelling cook Cirgon with them, heating water in a shallow pan over a make-shift campfire of dried grasses, likely to tend the intruder's wounds. Well let him sail back West and recover there, not on the property of Maladil. Maladil was about to shriek out this piece of rage when he noticed a small form darting up alongside ... *

Stop! * Maladil hissed, straining to maintain a low voice the better to remain unnoticed. * What are you doing?

* Daerohil stopped in mid-stride, striking a comedic pose with bent arms, one flung forwards and the other back, ready to spring forth again to race with all his might, but now looking like the shadow of a statue firmly planted. * Playing hide-and-seek with Andreth and Calimiel and Gandalf.

* Maladil repeated all these three names, questioning in rising tones of shocked horror. *

Andreth ... * Daerohil described matter-of-factly, arms and legs remaining sprawled and frozen where he'd been told to "Stop!" * .... she's our kin, new but one of us. Had a book with her I made her drop. Calimiel I almost didn't know was herself, for her spirit is lost within a depth even when you find it now. Gandalf, I know not who he is, but I expect to find him all the same! Now let me go my way, Master. * With a good-natured laugh Daerohil took off running again ... *

* ... However, the ghostly stable lad only made it several paces beyond the door before being stricken to the ground by the iron strength and full brunt of Maladil's ill will. Daerohil dropped at the feet of the Elf-warrior Nardol and there the lad's spirit lay unmoving, scrunching up his eyes. *

* Dropping the colorful balls of flame, which vanished harmlessly as they hit the ground, Gandalf walked briskly and knelt at Daerohil's side, sheltering the small form within his arms and cloak, staff in hand beginning to glow a soft white. A dull ache hit him as he touched the lad, washing through the wizard's head like the tail end of a blasting wave. But then as Maladil strove to bear down again more fully, Gandalf increased his resistance, concentrated against the invasive pressure, measured his breathing. *

* Guilin, Tiroedrath, Halblung, Cirgon had seen enough. They moved as one to step in between the two prone forms on the ground and Lord Maladil. Daerohil and Gandalf suddenly grew more relaxed. *

* Gandalf nodded softly to Nardol, * Go in if you can.

********************************************

* Calimiel blanched at the sight of Celumëomaryu. The daughter of Maladil looked around at Aislan who offered a horse to ride, and at the bard who had the Key, and at her kinswoman Andreth, and at Alearindu with her sword. * Save Me! You can keep the Key, for all I care! And take your old Book! Please?

[ March 14, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel and Estelarion walked into the kitchen. A few moments later, Poppy followed them, looking a bit startled at their sudden decision. The two women shivered a bit at the strewn bodies on the floor: an Elf, a Human, and an Orc. The fact that such enemies were forced to physically lay together for all eternity gave the room an uncomfortable feeling.

The two Elves looked around the kitchen, finding nothing of use. Estelarion longingly looked at one of the meat cleavers that was left in the kitchen, but Menelduliniel nodded that he should not touch it. He was reminded of the danger of touching various objects in the castle and decided that it would probably be best if he did not touch anything without purpose.

The three wandered around the kitchen, until they heard a noise outside in the Inner Courtyard. The three ran to the open doorway and made their way to the Inner Courtyard.

All of them gasped as they saw the scene in the Inner Courtyard. Poppy was about to run, but Estelarion pulled her back quickly.

"Do not interfere with Mithrandir. We can do nothing that he cannot. It would be best to stay here."

Menelduliniel looked at Estelarion with a puzzled expression. "We should aid him," she said, simply.

Estelarion looked at Menelduliniel and said, assuringly, "There is nothing we can do to help Mithrandir. This does not involve Orcs, Menelduliniel. It involves a force even beyond our ability. Although I cannot see them, I sense strong spiritual presence out there. And there is great anger too. I feel that we would only hinder Mithrandir if we were to step in. We were merely here to look for the deed. None of us know enough of what these shades can do to be able to combat them if need be. We are wholly dependant on their good will. I propose that we try to stay within their good graces, as we will be useless if they begin to feel scorn for us."

Menelduliniel looked down at Poppy, who nodded, sadly, the Estelarion made sense. The three quietly made their way back into the kitchen, praying to Eru that Mithrandir would have the strength to combat the spirits that seemed to have turned.

Once back inside the kitchen, Menelduliniel felt a tug at her sleeve.

"What shall we do now?" Poppy asked, looking up at the Elf.

Menelduliniel stood, debating in her mind for a minute, then, giving a jolt that startled her two companions, she spoke her mind.

"I cannot stay here. If Gandalf needs help, I will aid him," she said, giving Estelarion a look that dared him to contradict her decision. As he remained silent, she carried on, "Mithrandir asked us to come to aid him, and I intend to give him my assistance in any means possible. I will do it at any expense."

With that, Menelduliniel walked to the Inner Courtyard.

"No, Menelduliniel!" Estelarion hissed, pulling her back, but Menelduliniel struggled to go on. Suddenly, she froze. It seemed that those in the courtyard she could see not involved in the mental competition going on had spotted her. She wondered how they would be greeted.

Poppy came up beside the two Elves, as they wondered what would happen, now that they had been seen by a few...

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

“Save Me! You can keep the Key, for all I care! And take your old Book! Please?” Calimiel cried. Aislan blinked at her, and Alearindu was just as confused.

“What’s the matter with her?” Aislan whispered to Alearindu, and Calimiel paled by the second.

“It’s as if she’s seen a ghost…” Alearindu whispered, and Aislan grinned.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, if such was the case,” Aislan turned ever so slightly to face the doorway, where a glimmering ghost hovered inches above the ground. Why would Calimiel be so frightened by another one of the castle patrons?

“What is it?” Alearindu asked, and stared at the doorway.

“Another ghost…” Aislan replied.

“Please help!” Calimiel cried, stunning Aislan and Alearindu into action. Save her from another ghost? Or at least a fellow Castle being? Aislan was quite confused to begin with, and Alearindu seemed even more so.

“Where’ll we go to get away from a ghost?” Aislan wondered aloud, though to no one in particular.

“The stables? Outside? Somewhere!” Alearindu continued the thought.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth stared at Calimiel. Of all those inside the castle, her heart reached out most to her.

Please help!....But how and against what?


Andreth's body was becoming firmer so that it was beginning to be much more difficult for her to see the ghosts. But she could still clearly see and here Calimiel.

"Please," Andreth begged, "Say what we must do to help you for I and my friends will surely try. Do you wish to go outside, as Alearindu said?"

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Calimiel cast a shuddering gaze between Alearindu and Andreth. * The Stables, outside, yes!

* Grabbing them both by the hand so that Andreth was on her right and Alearindu on her left, Calimiel pulled her new companions into a run at breakneck speed, smack dab into ... and straight through ... the maliciously shimmering haze that formed Celumëomaryu. Calimiel screeched and shivered, dropping the hands of Alearindu and Andreth, for Celumëomaryu had sent out a blast of icy wrath straight to the heart of Calimiel. Calimiel staggered, bumped the door frame, continued her mad run. *

* The stairs carried Calimiel down as if in a nightmare. She sped around corner after corner. Finally the chill night air grasped her face. It was 2:00 a.m. by now. Father stood in the entrance, with four others of the household, and a small knot of strangers. Calimiel didn't care who anyone was at this point. Somehow she slipped past Father, whose mind seemed intent on other things, and found herself out the door. *

* Turning right, she headed for the Stables ... then stopped suddenly, heart beating, breathing labored. A black horse roamed unconcernedly about in front of the Stables, snorting disdainfully at tall brown stalks of dead grass. A majestic black horse, with no saddle, and on Father's property! Calimiel's horse, now. All hers. For this moment. Until Celumëomaryu, or Father, or Tiroedrath came to stop her, anyways. Time was precious. *

* Midnight backed away from the dishevelled, stumbling stranger. The woman, however, leapt a desperate lucky leap, landing far enough up the black war steed's side to cling tightly to his mane and pull herself astride. Midnight shrieked a ferocious, drawn-out neigh, launching into a spooked gallop. Rounding the corner and coming in view of the front entrance, Midnight saw the old grey-cloaked man laying on the ground, looking to be in distress. Midnight slowed, turning towards the familiar grey man, wanting to go to him ... and was soundly cuffed about the ears by the strange woman. *

* The woman wailed a whole bunch of things that Midnight could not understand, apart from the word "NOOOooooo!" What Midnight DID understand was that the stranger was pulling his mane, hard, as though to tear it from his neck by the roots ... and that she was stopping him from aiding the grey man. *

* Instead, she steered him towards a small gate in the wall. Midnight reared up on his hind legs, thinking to throw the woman. The woman dangled, hanging on by one arm for dear life. Another furious shake from Midnight, and the woman could hold on no longer. Thrown she was, into unyielding granite. Hair matted with blood, she sank down unmoving, lay still, breathed her last. Only some had eyes to see when moments later, the faint milky glimmering spirit of Calimiel rose up kneeling beside the prone and broken form, to bewail the cruelty of fate. *

[Mithadan]

As Nardol made ready to enter the Castle, Menelduliniel, Estelarion and Poppy emerged from that dark place and stood at the top of the steps leading down to the courtyard. Moments later, Andreth and Aislan emerged, accompanied by two others, one of whom dashed away towards the stables. The galloping of hoofs could be heard and Midnight came around the corner of the Castle bearing the stranger, but the fiery steed shied away from leaving the courtyard and threw his rider to the ground. The horse then approached Gandalf who had collapsed on the stone flags. The wizard appeared to be struggling against some unseen force emanating from Maladil.

Nardol clenched his teeth, then roared, "Enough!" He drew his sword and interposed himself between Gandalf and the shimmering shape that was Maladil. Nardol's scar writhed on his face as he raised the point of his sword towards where Maladil's face should be. The dire shade's attention shifted from the wizard to the Elf and it howled. If there were words in Maladil's screech, Nardol did not catch them.

The shade raised its blade and rushed at Nardol. As the swords clashed, Nardol had just enough time to hope that he had bought Gandalf a sufficient opportunity to recover before his opponent occupied the whole of his attention...

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aislan rushed out of the castle after Calimiel, Andreth, and Alearindu, and came just in time to see Calimiel thrown from a rampaging Midnight. Aislan flinched as she saw Calimiel hit the ground with a loud thud and crack. Midnight, crazed with fear, galloped over to a fallen Gandalf.

Aislan was silent, and stricken with shock and fear. Not knowing where her uses would help anymore, Aislan did the only thing she thought she’d be able to do: Calm Midnight.

Rushing over to the frantic stallion, Aislan tried to comfort the horse. Calling out phrases like ‘Midnight, still! Everything is all right!’ and, ‘Stay calm, boy!’ seemed to do no good. The horse reared up on its hind legs and kicked the air with his front. Aislan lifted her arms to brace herself from a kick, but Midnight only brought his feet hard upon the ground. Lifting them again, he continued to paw at the air and bring his hooves to the ground with a great thump. The whites of his eyes could clearly be seen.

“What are you afraid of?” Aislan wondered aloud, and tried to calm the stallion. When Midnight finally stopped rearing, Aislan tried to calm him down and pat him, but the horse continued his deep, quick breathing and his head swayed.

As Nardol occupied himself with Maladil, Midnight began to breathe regularly again, but Aislan could feel the fear in the animal as she stood next to him. Aislan tried to see if Calimiel had brought any wounds to the horse, but Midnight was skittish and would turn his head and glare at Aislan any time she tried to see if he was all right.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth brought her hands up to her brow and closed her eyes, trying to will the grisly scene of Calimiel's demise to go away. She could not understand why she felt so sad. The girl had died so long ago. There was no reason to mourn her death. It was simply a return to her natural state.

Yet still her shade glimmered in the night, trapped in time between death and life. Not one and not the other, but a grotesque parody of what should not be. Andreth felt the tears flooding down her cheeks, and, as she did so, felt her body turn solid again. The ghosts turned into tiny sparkling lights, whose words she could no longer understand.

Goodbye, Calimiel. Goodbye, my kinswoman........ The quiet words resounded in her head.

[ March 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Belin]

Celumëomaryu raced down the stairs, filled only with the thought of her escaping prey. She'd done nothing! All her icy rage and all her admittedly ghostly presence had not stopped even one of them; she was powerless and angry and she gave no thought to what else might have been happening in the castle.

She gave no thought to the stairs she was rushing down or the hall she was once again crossing, either, and suddenly found herself standing before the door. Even in her rage she was brought up short by the sounds coming from beyond it.

Battles again. Maladil, that fool, must he fight with everyone? Celumëomaryu had given up Anna, had given up the bodies, as any sensible person would do. It was only the intruders who had broken into her library, yes, hers, no matter what deals she had struck, and Calimiel the traitor that she sought. Maladil could take a hint, and she certainly had no intention of being drawn into his battle. None of that.

She looked past them quietly, not wanting to make a movement that might catch anyone's eye, thankful for the lack of a body that would surely have trembled with utter frustration and given her away. She was losing them. They were escaping. She resisted the urge to cry out in anger... there. They'd rounded the corner. The stables, then.

She turned, with all the grace native to a ghost and an elf, and navigated through the inner courtyard, around the shed, and to the stables, just in time to see the enviable body of the girl Calimiel had taken fly from a horse and smash against a wall, and Calimiel left it.

Celumëomaryu froze, staring.

She saw that strange girl, the one who might or might not have been living, take up the body, as if it had truly been Calimiel's, and as if they had been friends.

She saw one of the truly living rush up to the horse, as the other stood in a shock that seemed to mirror her own.

She saw Calimiel weeping over her ill-begotten body. The self-love of this foolish girl was quite beyond her tolerance. She lunged toward her, and missed, knocking her to the ground in a wailing heap more or less in passing. It was upon the half-living woman that her attack fell.

This woman (the Andreth they'd mentioned, it had to be) leapt up, startled but solid and unharmed, calling to her, though Celumëomaryu could not guess what, unless it might be "stop, stop." This time she did howl. The woman was so insenstive to ghosts that her attack had done nothing, nothing.... Infuriated, she kicked at Calimiel again, but the ridiculous brat had gotten to her feet, and ignored all of Celumëomaryu's assaults.

What is happening to me, what is happening to me,she thought frantically, no longer listening to the voice of the living girl, no longer concerned with the horse and its attendants, one of whom seemed to be coming forth to meet her.

What will happen to me?

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The beginning of the end happened all at once. *

* Nardol parried Maladil's sword thrust, then slashed a slicing cut through Maladil's face, doing no hurt, but distracting the fey ghost from Mithrandir. Guilin drew his halberd while Tiroedrath and Halblung wielded their swords. It was Guilin who knocked OrcBane from Maladil's clutches to a spot on the lawn a safe distance beyond where the curse allowed Guilin's Master to reach. Tiroedrath and Halblung cheered. Cirgon applauded. Maladil silently fumed. *

* Midnight finally settled down under Aislan's words and on seeing the grey man stand up. Midnight softly nuzzled Aislan. *

* Gandalf looked about at all his companions streaming forth from the Castle. * "The Deed! Where's the Deed? It must be taken off the Castle grounds and read aloud with the declaration that Elrond and Galadriel are the new owners of the Castle, and that the Castle is to be no more, but rather transformed into a House of Healing open to all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth!"

* Alearindu carried the prized green Book with gold letters bearing the name of Laurëondo. Andreth carried her matching red book. Hinura followed, harp in one hand, Key in the other. Menelduliniel rushed up waving aloft the Note with its instructions on safely removing the Deed from its hiding place within the Book's spine. *

* All who wished followed Gandalf to the edge of the boundary line. The living members of the company stepped over the line outside the Castle grounds. The ghosts stayed just inside the line. *

* It was Menelduliniel who read the Note's instructions on how to proceed, Hinura who turned the Key in the Lock, Poppy who opened the Book, Alearindu who safely removed the precious parchment that was the Deed, Gandalf who read the words inked on the deed, Aislan who added the declarations about Elrond and Galadriel becoming the new owners of the Castle, and that as its stewards and caretakers, now declared that the Castle was no longer a Castle, but a House of Healing. *

* Maladil faded and faded, then vanished. *

* Gandalf, noticing the presence of three who had missed the fireworks display, waved over Celumëomaryu and Calimiel and Anna, bowing a greeting. *

* Daerohil picked himself up and ran through the grass to join the living company. Then, remembering, dashed back to the stables to bring out the horses to the guests. Whinny lay on her side. *

* Cirgon, Guilin, Tiroedrath,and Halblung joined the company wielding the weapons at their disposal against any potential Orc attack. *

* Come what may, the curse of Castle Maladil was now lifted. The Quest had succeeded! *

[ March 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Susan Delgado]

After Calimiel had ignored her warnings to avoid the living folk, Anna had crouched out of sight among the library stacks, then crept downstairs after everyone had left, careful to avoid meeting anyone. She still didn't know exactly what was going on, but it seemed everyone had gone insane except her.

She fled to the garden, where she met Lasrain, one of the gardeners. After convincing him she was who she claimed, they walked together in the orchard listening to the sounds of battle.

After a while, the Inner Courtyard became silent and they felt a pull in that direction. Partway there, Lasrain stopped and slowly faded out, a very surprised look on his face. Anna watched, surprised, and looked at her own body, for it suddenly felt lighter. For a moment she'd expected to disappear like he had, but her solid body kept her on the ground. She continued on toward the courtyard.

The first thing she saw when she arrived were Calimiel and Celumeomaryu vanishing as Lasrain had. She approached the old man who was holding a parchment and stopped before him, not knowing what to say. She knew by now that the Curse had been lifted and she must be the last Ghost in the Castle and that it was only her stolen body that had kept her from returning to the Halls of Mandos and now she was unsure of how these genuine living people were going to accept her, or even if they would. She knew, however, that she would never leave the Castle, her home. She wasn't sure what was going to happen here, what plans they had, but she must be a part of it. She had been here too long; she suspected many more years had passed than she supected and that all her family was gone. There was no longer any home for her outside these walls.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy hardly knew what to feel as they all streamed out of the castle, ecstatic and carefree. Standing outside the boundary, Poppy held the book out in her hands as Hinura cautiously turned the key, and Poppy slowly opened the book, watching it fall open in her small hands. Passing it to Alearindu to remove the deed, Poppy watched the proceedings, eyes round as she realised what the group had done. Together, they had lifted the curse on the castle.

As Aislan finished declaring the castle was now a House of Healing, Poppy turned and saw Maladil. He was fading, becoming fainter and fainter, until the hobbit could no longer see him at all. He was gone.

Poppy looked around the group that had gathered with a small smile on her face. It had been a truly wonderful journey, but she knew with heaviness growing on her heart it was almost time for her to leave. Time to return to the Shire, her parents. She still felt guilt for rushing off in the first place, only sending a scribbled note to them. Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind, she stood with the others, celebrating the achievement.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel held her breath as the others followed her instructions, praying that she had told them everything and that these directions were not laid out for them as a trap. She heard a click, then Maladil hazy shape faded before her eyes. She let out a big breath and looked around in the very brief silence that followed.

Suddenly, other members of the party came, prepared for battle as though it was eminent. Menelduliniel looked around, not seeing any immediate danger, but she drew her daggers nonetheless. Estelarion, however, did not draw any weapons. He looked very confused.

Menelduliniel realized then that he did not know what happened with the spirit of Maladil. He could not see anything that had happened. Everything that had occurred had been entirely invisible to the poor Elf.

"We are safe from the spirits. Maladil is gone. But we must be on guard in case there is a lesser, but still present, evil," Menelduliniel said quietly. Estelarion raised one eyebrow, but nodded.

Menelduliniel looked at Poppy, who was not prepared to fight either. She looked somewhat disappointed. Menelduliniel wondered what the Hobbit was going home to. She began to wonder what was to become of the company when they disbanded. Menelduliniel wondered of the hopes, dreams, lives, and families of the group. Then, as she so often had done in the past, Menelduliniel let her mind wander perilously into the world of dreams and fancy, forgetting the danger that possibly lurked for the group now that one obstacle was through.

**********

Estelarion saw everyone rejoice suddenly after he heard a click. He did not know what they rejoiced for, but he could sense that they had been in danger caused by the shades that haunted the place. Nearly everyone gave a jubilant shout and, although he had seen nothing that had occurred on the spirit end, Estelarion joined the sounds of merriment. Estelarion listened to quiet conversation of others, piecing together stories of what had occurred.

He turned and saw Menelduliniel with her daggers out.

"We are safe from the spirits. Maladil is gone. But we must be on guard in case there is a lesser, but still present, evil," Menelduliniel said quietly. Estelarion looked at the others who, although alert, were still relaxed and feeling merry.

Estelarion wondered when they would be leaving, for he realized it had been a while since he had been in the lovely bustle of an Inn. He suddenly felt lonely for Imladris and his home. He missed his family.

Estelarion looked at Menelduliniel, who was now off in her own world. Poppy, the Hobbit and now the Elves' companion and friend, appeared to be in a similar state of reflection. Estelarion took his two friends' leads and looked off into the dark, wondering what else was happening in the wide expanse of Middle Earth and how what the company accomplished would play into the history of the vast land, if it had any effect at all...

[ April 01, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf folded the deed to Laurëondo with a neat crisp crease, then placed the time-browned parchment for safekeeping into the same pouch that held Elrond's letter to Galadriel. *

* A bedraggled woman who yet carried herself with a drifting gracefulness strolled up. Introducing herself as Anna, she looked down, gazing at the impressions in the deep grass made by the many strange pairs of feet come to the Castle this fateful night. And what would be Anna's own fate? Pretending to be the rightful owner of the body of Linea, Linea of Bree, would be no use if someone asked her any questions beyond her name and town. Surely this old grey man looking as bedraggled as she did would not harm her? Though perhaps his fierce-featured Elvish companion might. Anna's gaze traveled from the old man rubbing absently at an injured arm to the fearsome warrior who'd come to stand up to Maladil, blade to blade. No Elf had ever drawn a weapon against Lord Maladil before, neither in life nor death. * "I will consent to your owning the Castle, if you will consent to my living in it."

"Done. I, Gandalf, consent on behalf of Elrond and Galadriel, and you will consent to their terms governing your life here. For though you are free of Maladil's curse, you remain here now as a captive of your own making. And yet as this place becomes a House of Healing, may you find healing here as well, Anna." * Gandalf reached out to Anna with a firm handshake to seal the deal. *

* Noticing Calimiel's newly-left body at the foot of the Castle wall, Gandalf motioned sadly to Estelarion and Nardol. Not long after, another grave joined the others recently dug out back. *

* In between tending to such necessarily somber duties, Gandalf shared with the company well-earned smiles of relief and accomplishment. The wizard beamed at the sight of Poppy hanging onto the Green Book of Laurëondo once again. "Why Ambassador, as the first one in an entire Age to set foot inside the Castle of your own will, you've made history! Keep now the Green Book, for you deserve a page of your own therein."

* Likewise, Gandalf urged Hinura to keep the Key which the sweetness of her bardic voice had led her to discover, and Menelduliniel to keep the Note with its well-chosen words to match the lyrics she'd chosen with such generous wisdom. He then spoke to the Company in general. * "Each one of you as a reward for your heroic labors on this successful quest is entitled to either a fair share in the sack of gold sent here by Elrond, or to one treasure from within the former Castle … though take nothing belonging to Anna."

* As for Gandalf, he strode through the Castle rooms, and for his treasure, settled on the small, battered tin Shire-watch he found perched atop the fireplace mantel of the Private Dining Room. It would make quite a curio for the mathom house at Michel Delving. Indeed, it was engraved with a "G" … and another letter as well, but the second letter had been blunted through the years into illegibility. *

* As he was pocketing his chosen item, the wizard noticed a familiar ethereal figure ... Kenelm, son of Maladil. Gandalf bowed. * "You are free to go into the West. To the Halls of Mandos, then Valinor."

* Kenelm bowed back, letting escape a sad sigh. * "Ah, Valinor! Such beauty there. But … Father would not approve."

"Your father is not here, Kenelm." * Gandalf's voice was as gentle as he could make it. * "Look first around the Castle if you wish. Then, you may take your leave when you are ready."

* Certain other ghosts had delayed their journey as well. Daerohil could be found in the stables, currying horses in between concerned glances at Whinny on the ground. Tiroedrath, Guilin, and Halblung remained standing on guard at the perimeter of the Castle grounds, weapons drawn, peering out into the night so as to keep any unseen surrounding Orcs at bay. *

* Gandalf came outside again and on seeing the ghostly warriors, approached Aislan, Alearindu, and Midnight. * "Aislan ... I wonder if you might see whether Midnight will wear a saddle again? Not to bear a rider, but an attached written message. Midnight knows where to find the Rangers in their hidden cabin near Sarn Ford.

" ... And Alearindu, I wonder if you too might seek out the Rangers there? You shall set out by one route, Midnight by another. You can start under cover of daylight, the better to avoid Orcs. Remember to keep alert for traps along the road! For the Company must guard Laurëondo now, relieve the warrior-ghosts of their long-endured task, until any Men who might be spared can come to help drive away the evil creatures who have too long crept close here. Otherwise, we risk this place becoming easy pickings for Orcs to plunder and set up a fastness of their own before a House of Healing can be established."

[ April 03, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aislan nodded in reply, but said naught. Turning to Midnight, she smiled at the black stallion and led him back towards the stables. Such wondrous stables they were, and Aislan would always keep the sight of them in her memory.

Entering the stables, Aislan saw Whinny again. She felt a stab of guilt for leaving the helpless pony, and wondered what she would do without proper medicines to care for her. Cleaning the wound quickly but thoroughly, Aislan let Midnight wander about the Stables of Laurëondo. When she was done, Aislan went back to her original duty, hoping that Whinny was in fact, not poisoned. Aislan promised herself that she would look later for herbs for Whinny, since Calimiel’s untimely demise kept the captive of the castle from helping in any way.

“You don’t have to bear rider,” Aislan began, talking to the Midnight as she readied him to wear a saddle. “Only a saddle, and a written message. I know you can do that.”

Aislan easily lifted a saddle for Midnight, and gently placed it over the woolen blanket she had left on his back. Midnight grunted, as if to complain. Aislan rolled her eyes and then turned to face Midnight’s dark eyes.

“You’re a good boy, I’ll tell you that. No whining, you hear?” Aislan pat the horse she had become quite accustomed to on the forehead. “I’m sure Gandalf will want to give you the message pretty soon. Go ahead!” Aislan wrapped her arm around the horse’s neck one more time, patted him goodbye, and then turned back to the stables.

Looking around the great stables, Aislan could not help but want a memory of it. Didn’t Gandalf say we were allowed to have one treasure? She thought, and nodded to herself. Aislan decided to find something small, if only to remind her always of her adventure here. Gazing at everything, Aislan jumped to notice her ghost-friend Daerohil nearby. Grinning, Aislan waved. She had taken great humor in the ghost-boy, for he was a more kindly and upbeat spirit than his other housemates that Aislan had met.

There, left on the rail of one of the stalls, was a currycomb. Aislan went to pick it up. On the opposite side of the standard metal teeth, the handle was gold-colored. With what little Elvish Aislan could read, she made out the letter ‘L’ engraved into the comb. It was a small treasure, but one that Aislan hoped to keep forever, to remind her of her stay at Laurëondo.

A slight whimper from behind her brought Aislan back to reality. Now to help Whinny…Aislan thought. She wondered where she could find the herbs.

“Daerohil. Can you still hear me? Do you know where the herbs are?” Aislan asked the stable lad, and wondered how much he had understood.

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Andreth changed back from ghost to human, she found her body becoming more solid. She wandered back to the stables where Aislan was now tended to Whinney. Her poor, sweet pony. He'd served her well.

Andreth extended a hand of thanks to Aislan for the care she'd given her mount. The girl had little natural skill in seeing or hearing ghosts, or in bringing healing to injured ponies, but she offered to help Daerohil search for the herbs that would be needed to put Whinney at ease, if he could only show her what to look for.

[ April 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel held the note gingerly, not sure what to do with it. She did not want to fold it, for fear of marring the letters. She finally took some cloth from her pack and, every so carefully, nestled the letter so that it was kept straight within the bag. She looked up at Estelarion, who had finished tending to Calimiel's body. He looked somber, but relieved. Estelarion, however, managed a smile when Menelduliniel looked up at him. Her look clearly asked what they should now do. Estelarion merely shrugged, remaining silent for a moment.

"Gandalf said that there was a bit of treasure that we could help ourselves to," Estelarion finally said, "Do you suppose we should...?"

"Take some of it?" Menelduliniel finished. She took a breath, and then continued, "I do not know. It does not feel right. We have never really taken gold. But I suppose we will need it at some point. We cannot live off of what money your family has."

Estelarion supposed that she was right. He figured they would only take what little they needed. It did not seem right to him either, for some reason, but it was true that they would soon run out of gold. What little they made was either from what Estelarion had brought when he left home or from what they made offering their services as musicians.

They set about getting a bit of gold. They looked around. Many of the others had gone about their own business. Poppy, however, still stood nearby. The two Elves crossed to the Hobbit.

"What do you suppose you shall do now?" Menelduliniel asked the Hobbit. Poppy gave a small start at the question, seeming to be in her own world previously.

"I-I don't know," Poppy said, shrugging.

"Well," Menelduliniel smiled, "If you are of a mind, you can always come along with us. You will not be an annoyance to us in any way."

"Thank you!" Poppy smiled. The three stood, truly smiling, finally, under the beautiful sky...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

“Daerohil. ... you ... hear? Do ... where ... herbs?” Aislan asked the stable lad, and wondered how much he had understood.

* Daerohil bowed, and wanting to please his honored guests, blinked a small blank smile at the words of Aislan. But Calimiel was the one who'd known herb lore, and Calimiel had gone, hidden before his eyes. At Andreth's arms reaching achingly out to him after pointing to the downed pony, Daerohil cocked his head into a concerned frown. *

* Too late to save Whinney. But Daerohil would help. Taking up a pitch fork, the stable lad removed straw from his very own hiding place. With slow reverence, he tossed the gentle yellow covering from his own secure haunt onto the pony. As Whinney's burial haystack grew, Daerohil's dwindled so that the skeleton beneath grew more and more evident. *

[ April 06, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[TheLadyAerowen]

Alearindu nodded, dazed. She was still taking in all that had happened; the 'death' of the girl ghost, the other castle ghosts finally leaving, and the thought of what might happen next.

She slowly came back to her senses, and looked at Gandalf. "I will ride to Sarn Ford the long way by the Northeast road; and Midnight by the Northwest, or however he may choose. As soon as I can, I shall find my way to the Andrath Greenway and travel forth from there as fast as my dear Mornen shall allow. I expect to reach Sarn Ford within three days and stay there no more than one day. I shall travel back with as many men as Sarn Ford can spare. I hope to make it back at the same rate I went; but I know not how that will go for I hope to have more than myself coming back!"

Gandalf nodded appreciation, smiled encouragement, leaned heavily on his staff in the weary contentedness of middle night after battle's end. "I'm certain, Alearindu, that your bravery in taking this road alone will inspire many to follow you on your way back. You'll start out at first light. Best grab what sleep you may before then."

Alearindu managed a smile, and nodded again. It being near 3:30am, and having not slept in a few days, she decided this was probably a good idea. Without knowing how she knew; she knew she need not check on Mornen, for he was fine. Alearindu found a place to sleep near the tree-line, sat down, pulled her knees to her chest, and fell into a light sleep. She had sat facing east so the light of the sun would wake her and she could begin her vital journey at first light. Gandalf, as well, found his place to sleep near the campfire where earlier he'd been keeping vigil and entertaining the ghostly men-at-arms with fire-juggling and tales. What the new day would bring, one could only guess.

[ April 06, 2003: Message edited by: TheLadyAerowen ]

[*Varda*]

Poppy looked up at the two elves standing beside her and smiled.

“I would love to journey along with you. Much as I feel I should go back to the Shire, my heart speaks against it…this journey only makes me want to explore more of Middle Earth.” She held the Green book to her even more tightly, before carefully putting it in her bag. She smiled again to herself, staring up into the sky, feeling for a short time in her life, that she was complete and whole.

She had accepted a little of the gold from Gandalf, enough to keep her while journeying, and to give to her family, should they need it. The rest of her share she left for the House of Healing, feeling others would need it more than she did. Yes, she would go home when she was ready. They knew she could look after herself. Even better, she knew she could. The small hobbit continued to stand there silently, gazing into the depths of the blue sky that went on forever. Feeling the book in her bag, she knew that this experience too, would be remembered forever.

[Mithadan]

Nardol stood facing away from the Castle, looking out towards the dark surrounding its walls. Beside him stood the remaining shades, standing guard as they had done for so many centuries. But from somewhere within him, Nardol knew that this would be their last night at the Castle.

He listened to Gandalf speak with Alearindu and frowned when he heard that it would likely be six days before assistance arrived. The Elf could hear Orcs scuttling about in the woods outside the walls, and if they were allowed to do so, he knew they would bring others. Sheathing his sword, he took up his bow and, again, leapt up on the wall. The only way to force the Orcs to keep their distance would be to strike them quickly now. He whistled softly into the wind and, after a moment, heard the sound of hoofs beating upon the road. Then he and Rustal went hunting...

He returned nearly two hours later, ridng upon his horse. His quiver was empty, but he was satisfied that there were no Orcs within a mile or more of the Castle. The shades were still standing in the courtyard as he entered, but they seemed less substantial now, as if they were fading before the coming day. To his surprise, Gandalf stood by the gate.

"We need not concern ourselves about Orcs this evening," said the Elf. "And likely not tomorrow either, though undoubtedly they will return in the days to come." The wizard nodded without speaking. He seemed to be measuring the Elf with his eyes. Then he nodded again.

"You have not chosen your reward yet," said Gandalf. "Will you not take some of Elrond's gold?"

"No," answered Nardol. "Return it to him. He will have need of it."

"And you will not?" asked Gandalf. The Elf looked out to the West, then turned back to the wizard. "I do not think so," he said softly. Gandalf nodded, with a hint of a smile.

"Will you not take aught from the Castle then?" continued Mithrandir. Nardol thought for a moment, then entered the Castle. He returned several minutes later with Kenelm. It was nearly sunrise and a faint glow appeared in the sky to the east. Nardol looked to Maladil's son, then extended his hands. Kenelm silently passed the stringless harp to the Elf. "I will return it to you," said Nardol. Kenelm nodded, then faded away...

[Yavanna Kementari]

As Celebrama cantered down the well-beaten path of the Andrath Greenway Calenoreien sat astride him rocking gracefully in tune to his movements of hoof to earth. Celebrama seemed to have plans of his own this night. His steps were antagonistically quick and light.

“You know we’re not coming back don’t you,” she said in a soft voice to the silver stallion as she reached up to scratch behind his ear. She finished the endearment with a few long strokes to the smoothness of his neck.

“ Well it seems that you are excited about the whole ordeal Celebrama, but I am uncertain about going.”

She sat up straight in her saddle and sighed softly.

“Going into the West sounds wonderful, but what have I done here? I don’t feel complete. And if I go there am I still going to feel the emptiness of not seeing him again?”

She talked to the magnificent beast as if he understood her every word and some times he did. As she traveled through the open grasslands she stared up into the firmament. The stars were so luminous, they made the balmy night sky look like a giant pelt of midnight fabric that had been torn and ripped over the ages and allowed the glorious light beyond the circles of Arda to shine through.

"Ahh, I suppose Celebrama, when we are gone from here we will not be remembered.

As Calenoreien rode through the tall waving grass her eye caught a glint of steel shining in the moonlight about 2 hundred yards away. As she rode down the road she watched a man stagger wearily down the way with a sword in hand.

“ He looks like he might be hurt or sick.”

His clothes were torn and dirty, he looked sickly thin and his hair was disheveled and cast a shadow that would do any Orc justice.

“Hurry on Celebrama, we must help him.”

With that she nudged her horse and he galloped off towards the pitiable looking creature to see what she might do.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Yavanna Kementari ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

"On your mark, … get set, …go!"

They were off in a flash of hoof and a gleam of mane, Midnight racing Mornen and Alearindu, and all of them racing against the passage of time that could see Orc reinforcements return against a Castle undermanned and now unhaunted. For the last of the ghosts had all gone with the sun's rising, Tiroedrath and Guilin and Halblung vanishing into the dewy morning mist with a final flourishing bow to the company as two dropped swords and a halberd clattered to rest. Daerohil had scampered off his usual cheerful self with a hope, a skip and a jump after Gandalf had promised to find the lad someday in a new and merrier hiding place in Valinor.

After a final glance at the rival horse, Midnight neighed, pawed the ground, flicked his haunches to adjust and readjust his gilt saddle with its message-scroll entrusted to him with an encouraging pat on his haunches by the grey man. At the shout of "go!" Midnight scrabbled into full gallop towards the Northeast. Mornen with a shake of the mane stared ahead as though the goal were already in sight as Alearindu offered final words of heart and coaching. The ranger and Mornen took to the Northwest, Mornen springing into speed like an arrow singing into a bulls-eye. They'd see who'd make it first to the Rangers' Cabin just Southwest of Sarn Ford. Winning horse would get first class accommodations inside the stables of the Trade Inn, losing horse would rough it outside the Rangers' Cabin.

Gandalf was very pleased that those in the company who chose treasure had done so wisely. Aislan's gold-inlaid currycomb from the stables and Poppy's, Menelduliniel's, and Estelarion's gold coins from the sack Maladil had dropped in the doorway of the front entrance, Nardol's harp inherited from Kenelm, meant that there'd been no traps to contend with. Searching for and disarming any traps set inside Laurëondo would be the wizard's task this day, with Anna as his guide.

************************************************** ***************

One day passed, then another.

It was eleven o'clock at night by Shire reckoning. Calenoreien had just passed the Trade Inn. She'd follow the road South for a short ways until her eyes could discern by moonlight the faint markings to the West indicating the Rangers' Cabin. Calen had a friend she wanted to wish farewell, before making her discreet way across Shire land towards the Grey Havens. The Elf could envision the waiting ship rising and falling on gentle swells of coastal water even now. Taking one hand off the reins of Celebrama, she reached down into the middle pouch around her waist. Yes, there it was. The wood carving of a gull, smoothly curving against her palm. Not quite complete. Neither was the feeling. Yet some feeling had drawn her to this path this night.

Mat Rushlight looked up, blinked at a soft-glimmering figure in his path, knuckled his sword tighter, stopped in his tracks, drew in his breath, let it out in a rasping exhale. Elvish, but substantial, not a ghost, not a threat. Mat took to trudging again. Bree was not far. But the Bree he knew would never be found. His life as a chandler had been dimmed, as a beekeeper made less sweet, now that his wife Linea and daughter Edwina were no more, no more themselves.

Calenoreien paled aghast at the Man scuffling before her going North, his head down, arm bent half to the ground with upraised sword, hair wild and eyes faraway and staring at ills unseen. "Hello, fellow traveler by night. I see you have neither food pouch nor water skin. Stop awhile and find refreshment under a friendly light of moon and stars."

As the idea of a prolonged halt hit him, Mat's knees buckled, try as he might to use his sword for a walking stick. Dropping down into a sitting position, he waited like a child at the edge of a fading dream whose mother bustled about the kitchen getting together bacon and eggs while his father beat out a steady rhythm chopping extra wood. He was handed a bite of lembas and a decanter of water, and eagerly downed both. "How may I thank you?"

"Tell me how you came to this path this night."

Mat launched into his jumbled rambling tale of a wagon beset by Orcs, the capture of himself along with his kith and kin, their being carried off to the dungeon at the cursed Castle Maladil, the death … and worse, of all the rest, the door to his cell incredibly swinging open, his run to freedom.

After procuring a room for Mat Rushlight at the Trade Inn, Calenoreien strode back to the stables to reclaim her silvery-grey horse Celebrama. There she caught sight of a Ranger she recognized, struggling to coax a black war steed inside the stables. "Aw come on Midnight, Mornen would be inside this stable instead of you, if only you could have come just five minutes later! Rules are rules, and you won! Be a good winner now." But the war steed bedecked with golden saddle backed away from the lantern-lit stables to melt against night's inky darkness, put its head down, and plucked at the greensward, heedless of any protestations.

[ April 23, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Yavanna Kementari]

Calenoreien strode quickly back to the stable through the warm night air to retrieve her horse. She was in such haste that her feet seemed to miss the earth as she went along. She had to get to the Rangers camp, this night, some thing was happening in Tharbad and they had to be informed about it. She was running the story over in her mind, about how Mat Rushlight described the ghostly happenings at this castle he was held prisoner in. In Mats own words he told how his wife and daughter “ un-became them selves, died and yet…lived,” as were his words. His voice had trembled and his body seemed to quake with fear as he told his tale. His eyes had the distance of a man scarred beyond healing. She knew that look all too well and his face haunted her thoughts for a moment. As Calen approached the stable she saw a Ranger she recognized, arguing with a strong willed ebony horse.

“Aw come on Midnight, Mornen would be inside this stable instead of you, if only you could have come just five minutes later! Rules are rules, and you won! Be a good winner now.”

Calenoreien laughed quietly as she saw the stubborn horse back away from Alearindu and the stable and into the darkness to graze on the sweet fresh summer grass. She saw the ranger go to another horse and began to brush him down outside the stable Calenoreien approached the onyx looking stallion. He put his head up proudly as she came with in touching distance. Calenoreien looked towards Alearindu with uncertainty.

“Suiliad, What brings a Ranger here tonight?”

Alearindu turned around to see the Elf standing near the war steed.

“ Urgent business, who asks?” Alearindu stood looking at the elf quizzically.
“Wait,” she said, “Don’t I know you?”

“ I believe you know me. I am Calenoreien of Mirkwood. You are acquainted with Aldarion, and if I remember you are Alearindu.”

Alearindu smiled and laughed faintly as she stroked her horse. “Yes that’s right, it has been a long time!”

As she smiled at Alearindu she stretched her arm out and held her hand palm up under Midnights muzzle for him to get her scent. As he lowered his head to her palm she spoke softly to him.

“U-osto, tolo si. Aphodo nin. Bedithnon minui.”

She walked forward into the stable and he slowly followed her. As he entered the light of the stable Calenoreien saw the golden saddle he wore. On it the inscription of an L had all but worn off and faded over many years. It looked ancient even to Calenoreien. As she studied the inscriptions of the design she noticed a message had been attached to the saddle.

“Alearindu, this letter here, is this the urgency?”

Alearindu’s voice grew more serious and a look of distress spread across her face.

“Yes Calenoreien, this is the urgency,”

Alearindu went into detail about how they had broken an age-old curse set by Maladil over the Castle Laurëondo and all his servants and children. She explained Gandalf’s mission to turn the castle into a house of healing and now there were orcs surrounding the place because it had once been an uncontested territory. But since all of the happenings took place they returned in greater numbers.

“So,” Calenoreien said, “this saddle is Maladil’s eh?”

Alearindu shook her head, “ Yes and poor Midnight hates to wear a saddle.”

“ I wouldn’t want to wear it either, but I know what to do.”

She told Alearindu her plan and she would meet her at the camp and when she had arrived at the cabin she would set out with the rest of the Rangers. Alearindu went to the inn and had something to eat while Calenoreien took the saddle off of the grateful Midnight. She checked on Celebrama and took the saddle back to the inn, when she came in to the well light inn she ignored Alearindu as was planned and asked if anyone was interested in purchasing an ancient saddle from the Castle Laurëondo. Some of the men jeered about not being able to set foot there, and it wasn’t real. Some of the men looked with fear upon it and wished it taken out side lest a curse fall on those at the inn. Calen was just about to walk outside when a well-dressed man approached her.

“You say that this is a saddle from Laurëondo, I would say it is worth a great deal eh?”

As the man spoke he raised an eyebrow as if he were trying to persuade her into something.

“It is said that treasures abound in that castle. I, how ever have only heard rumors I will give you twice what it is worth.”

He handed her a large sack of gold after she handed him the saddle and smiled at her menacingly. She knew what would come next but he would be paying extra for nothing.
Taking her time she met a couple of hobbits and spoke to them a little while.

She saw Alearindu get up and leave the inn after the deals were done. Calenoreien went back out to the stable to retrieve Celebrama, she watched Alearindu out of the corner of her eye ride hard to the south. After she had gone out of human sight she saw the new owner of Maladil’s saddle come out side. He looked hastily up and down the dirt road.
He looked angry until he saw Calen mount her horse and began to ride north on the road.

Celebrama went slowly at first and when she saw the buyer behind her she put Celebrama into a gallop.

“Yro Celebrama Yro.”

She saw him begin to disappear behind her and she headed southwest in to the woods.

“Celebrama, Daro, Delio”

The sterling horse halted and went behind a thicket of tall birch trees. There they watched the foolish man gallop past them and off toward Bree. She waited to see if he would stop but he didn’t.

“Yro lim Celebrama Yro lim!”

With the would-be stalker on his way to Bree she was now free to ride with out worry to the cabin. As she rode to the cabin she started to laugh about what had just taken place.

“That was fun was it not Celebrama?”

The spirited horse shook his head, neighed. She laughed at the witty response of her horse as he tried to out ride the stars to the Rangers cabin.

She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment listening to the horses hoof beats on the moist foliage of the grown over path to the cabin. The sky was turning orange through the tall oaks on the small hill and the dawn was starting to break first light when she saw the shape of a man on horseback silhouetted against the rising sun.

“Daro Celebrama.”

The rider and horse came cantering down the small incline and he saw her.
She yelled to him,

“Ias bedich, Hir nîn.”

He replied none too kindly, “You know very well!”

She dismounted and stood beside Celebrama and waited till he got to her. He was tall and broad. His long dark hair blew in the wind as he rode forth. He stopped right beside her and peered in to her face, as he dismounted his horse his steely blue-gray eyes glinted with laughter. They laughed out loud she fling her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her around the waist and picked her up and shook her.

“Oh, Aldarion it is so wonderful to see you!” she said laughing.

He set her back on the ground and smiled.

“Calen, it has been far too long.”

They mounted their horses and rode to the cabin as Calen filled him in on everything that was happening in Tharbad since he was out patrolling when Alearindu had arrived and held council with the other Rangers. She also told him about the saddle and the stalker previous to her coming, and her plans on how to spend the fortune.

“Gandalf needs our help Aldarion, orcs are surrounding Laurëondo. I am glad he has turned it into a house of healing. I will definitely join the fight to help that kind of cause. Maybe I will stay there if he allows instead of going west just yet. I used the money from the saddle to pay for linens and herbs. I have also purchased some chickens a few small pigs and some lambs so the castle will have its own establishments in order. They will come when they are sent for.”


“Aldarion smiled gently at her, you have a good heart Calenoreien.”

As they reached the Rangers Cabin everyone was busying themselves with chores and assigned duties. Alearindu strode up to Calenoreien and Aldarion.

“Ten, we are ten strong. Strider is off on an important assignment, he will be missed but we can make due with out him.”


“Count me in,” said Calenoreien

[ April 23, 2003: Message edited by: Yavanna Kementari ]