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piosenniel · 12-31-2002, 03:32 PM

As they headed south, Bullroarer looked out over the harsh, wintery landscape, recalling it in gentler days. He sighed, wishing it were so now. He flicked the reins on the ponies' backs and clucked to them, urging them on to bring the wagon slowly through the snow.

Once, in his younger days, as he remembered, he and his friends had ridden to Bree on their ponies. It had been a pleasant day when they reached the area of the Downs, south of the Great East Road -

They stopped, he and his friends, looking south over the treeless, rolling grassy highlands to where the barrows of Men stood on the green hillocks - each marked by a tall, grey standing stone from out the top of the earthwork mound forming the ceiling of the barrow within. Olo, one of his more bold companions, dared the others to see what they could find within.

Laughing merrily, the small group rode toward the nearest barrow; the clatter of their ponies' hooves softened by the grass they trod on. 'How does one get in?' said Olo, looking at the smooth grassy mound before him. 'It seems all grown over, and we've brought no picks or shovels.'

Bullroarer dismounted and walked about the barrow, to the east side of it. There against the green was a large, flat rock, embedded firmly against the side of the grass-covered mound. 'Look here!' he cried, motioning his fellows to help him. 'I think this may be our way in.'

They put their shoulders to the edge of the mossy rock, pushing hard against it. It moved, slowly, aside, and soon they were peering into the darkness of the chamber which lay beyond it, dimly lit now by the wan sunlight filtering in through the entrance.

'Come!' cried Olo, scrambling down onto the floor of the barrow. The others followed and stood blinking for a few moments, their eyes adjusting to the darkened chamber.

Moving a short distance into the barrow (it was tall enough for them to move about without crouching), they gasped when their eyes took in what lay before them. Two skeletal remains of the tall Men of Old lay side by side in the center of the mound. About their heads were fillets of silver set with single gems. The light caught the facets of the nearest gem and it blazed into long forgotten brilliance for a brief moment. Their hands, crossed on their broad chests, grasped the swords which had defended them in life - as long almost as the men themselves, blades grimed but still intact. At their heads lay their shield and helmet, as if they would rise once again should the call come to defend against Darkness. About them were carefully placed the riches and reminders of their former life - gold in sacks now rotted, and jewel encrusted cups, and much, much more.

Bullroarer had laid his hand against the arm of his friend, his eyes wide at the splendor and gravity of the Men of Old. 'We should go,' he cautioned them, 'and leave them to their rest. We have no need to be here. Let us leave them undisturbed.

Bullroarer shook the memory from his mind, clucking to the ponies once again, and turned round to see that the companions were following in the tracks the wagon wheels forged for them. They were nearing one of the barrow mounds now, and he called a stop.

Hopping down from the wagon, he led the ponies up to where the great standing stone poked out above the snow like a broad finger, pointing to the sky.

'Hold them here, Branda, while I find the entrance stone.' He motioned for several of the hobbits to come forward with him. Soon the stone was discovered beneath the snow, on the eastern side of the barrow.

They put their shoulders to the stone, as he and his companions had done so long ago, and moved it slowly away from the entrance. Lighting one of the pitchy torches he had loaded in the wagon, Bullroarer went in first.

'We have need to be here now.' he murmured to the unseen sprits of the dead. 'Let us shelter from the Darkness and the storm for just a night, then we will leave you to your rest once again.' He bowed his head slightly to those who lay within, and motioned the companions in . . .

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

12-31-2002, 03:32 PM	#138
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	As they headed south, Bullroarer looked out over the harsh, wintery landscape, recalling it in gentler days. He sighed, wishing it were so now. He flicked the reins on the ponies' backs and clucked to them, urging them on to bring the wagon slowly through the snow. Once, in his younger days, as he remembered, he and his friends had ridden to Bree on their ponies. It had been a pleasant day when they reached the area of the Downs, south of the Great East Road - They stopped, he and his friends, looking south over the treeless, rolling grassy highlands to where the barrows of Men stood on the green hillocks - each marked by a tall, grey standing stone from out the top of the earthwork mound forming the ceiling of the barrow within. Olo, one of his more bold companions, dared the others to see what they could find within. Laughing merrily, the small group rode toward the nearest barrow; the clatter of their ponies' hooves softened by the grass they trod on. 'How does one get in?' said Olo, looking at the smooth grassy mound before him. 'It seems all grown over, and we've brought no picks or shovels.' Bullroarer dismounted and walked about the barrow, to the east side of it. There against the green was a large, flat rock, embedded firmly against the side of the grass-covered mound. 'Look here!' he cried, motioning his fellows to help him. 'I think this may be our way in.' They put their shoulders to the edge of the mossy rock, pushing hard against it. It moved, slowly, aside, and soon they were peering into the darkness of the chamber which lay beyond it, dimly lit now by the wan sunlight filtering in through the entrance. 'Come!' cried Olo, scrambling down onto the floor of the barrow. The others followed and stood blinking for a few moments, their eyes adjusting to the darkened chamber. Moving a short distance into the barrow (it was tall enough for them to move about without crouching), they gasped when their eyes took in what lay before them. Two skeletal remains of the tall Men of Old lay side by side in the center of the mound. About their heads were fillets of silver set with single gems. The light caught the facets of the nearest gem and it blazed into long forgotten brilliance for a brief moment. Their hands, crossed on their broad chests, grasped the swords which had defended them in life - as long almost as the men themselves, blades grimed but still intact. At their heads lay their shield and helmet, as if they would rise once again should the call come to defend against Darkness. About them were carefully placed the riches and reminders of their former life - gold in sacks now rotted, and jewel encrusted cups, and much, much more. Bullroarer had laid his hand against the arm of his friend, his eyes wide at the splendor and gravity of the Men of Old. 'We should go,' he cautioned them, 'and leave them to their rest. We have no need to be here. Let us leave them undisturbed. Bullroarer shook the memory from his mind, clucking to the ponies once again, and turned round to see that the companions were following in the tracks the wagon wheels forged for them. They were nearing one of the barrow mounds now, and he called a stop. Hopping down from the wagon, he led the ponies up to where the great standing stone poked out above the snow like a broad finger, pointing to the sky. 'Hold them here, Branda, while I find the entrance stone.' He motioned for several of the hobbits to come forward with him. Soon the stone was discovered beneath the snow, on the eastern side of the barrow. They put their shoulders to the stone, as he and his companions had done so long ago, and moved it slowly away from the entrance. Lighting one of the pitchy torches he had loaded in the wagon, Bullroarer went in first. 'We have need to be here now.' he murmured to the unseen sprits of the dead. 'Let us shelter from the Darkness and the storm for just a night, then we will leave you to your rest once again.' He bowed his head slightly to those who lay within, and motioned the companions in . . . [ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.