[piosenniel]

Durelin's post

Striding down the dirt street at the head of a group of men, with a vast variety of pitch-forks, knives, hoes, axes, and a few swords, Hamfast's feet dragged, and he kept his eyes on the ground, frowning at his feet. He fingered his short sword in nervousness, always readjusting his coat. It just didn't feel right, prancing around in fancy clothes with a sword. And leading men. Men! He couldn't lead a herd of swine, much less a group of men. No, not a group, a company, they were a fighting force. Hamfast was ready to faint. "Cheer up, Master Hamfast," came a deep rumbling voice from beneath a rough brown beard on the dwarf beside him. His friend Anuionin was one of the few things that kept him going. But, at the head of all those few things stood his wife. Emmy Greenhand could be quite fierce and imposing. Hamfast thought she should be the one wearing a sword at her belt. "We have been through these attacks together once before, we will survive them once again."

"I know, Anuionin, I know," he mumbled, and the dwarf gave a long sigh. It sounded much like a growl coming from the dwarf.

"Hamfast, I cannot make you think of this differently, but I ask you to make the best of this you can."

"I will try." The two had had many exchanges like this already. It was becoming a routine everyday. After Anuionin gave up each day, the talk crept away from the topic. Today, there was only silence. It seemed that the dwarf was tired of this. Hamfast was himself, but he wouldn't ever admit that. "Well," he began, then stopped for another moment, switching what he was going to say. "I'm sorry, old friend. I have been a real stick in the mud the past days. I will make the best of it from here on out, as you have constantly told me. Forgive me for taking so long to come to my senses."
The dwarf gave a rumbling laugh. "I knew you were too smart of a hobbit to go on like this forever. I figured you'd understand eventually. Though I will admit to getting a bit tired of trying to convince you."

"I will admit to that too, Master Dwarf," Hamfast answered him, grinning as Anuionin roared with laughter. "Hamfast, my dear hobbit, you are truly a wise man!" The two friends laughed together, and Hamfast walked down the streets off Bree at the head of the company with his head high and a smile on his face.

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Helkahothion's post

There was a battle, early in the Fourth Age, fought near the boundaries of Lothlorien, between Easterlings, Orcs, and the Elves of The Golden Wood. It was fought over Anuion, an Elf messenger who carried vital information for Galadriel and was captured by the Easterlings.

There should have been nothing that out of the ordinary about the battle that followed; the Elves got rid of the Easterlings in a very short time, only a few days, but there was something a little different as well. Two Easterlings were left and stubbornly still tried to resist. Amazingly, something unusual between the two races occurred – the light of reason shone out brightly, and the two sets of foes were able to talk calmly to one another and reach a peaceable conclusion. Those who were left felt a little strange when they departed from the battle scene - it was almost as if a feeling of fellowship had grown between the mixed group.

But, as after all battles, there were casualties, even among the Elves, one of these being Durelin - a close friend of Anuion, the Elven messenger, a friend of Anuion’s, Telpeheled, and his close human friend, Bordarigorn. Once Durelin was buried, the trio separated, but only for a while.

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