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Old 07-15-2006, 09:06 PM   #77
Durelin
Estelo dagnir, Melo ring
 
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Join Date: Oct 2002
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Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Vrór

The Dwarf had been anticipating a ‘but’ as soon as he heard the word ‘right’ escape the man’s lips. This time it came in the form of a longer list of what they knew than Vrór had been able to form in his own head. So by the time Aiwendil was finished talking to him, the Dwarf was silently and bitterly accepting that this old man had a sharper mind than him, and beginning to accept that they were heading north. Going north, chasing after one or the other of two rather ambiguous groups. Chasing! That meant a fast pace, which Vrór was certain he was not up for. If only he had accepted a pony for the trip. But he just could not bring himself to sit on a plump little pony with the Hobbit while the others had their strong, large, beautiful – quite large, and very tall, which was of course a problem for the Dwarf – horses.

Suddenly he could hear Carl’s voice, shouting that ‘Miss Athwen’ had found something. The two had gone to scour the place for any last clues. Vrór felt excitement rise in his chest thick enough to choke him. Perhaps this would be a clue that would allow him to put his full heart into this seeming wild goose chase. The Dwarf would believe in the best scouts in all the West when he saw them. Until then, he needed something he could see prior to the need to follow the trail of sixty-five men, women, and children across the wasteland that was Mordor. Something other than the disturbing imagery of a brand, an object that might lead them down a terrible and unexpected path.

Vrór could make out a small stone in Carl’s hand, and then in Lindir’s as it was passed to him. The Elf pointed out some interesting facts about its appearance. Gondor? The Dwarf had thought most of these slaves were from the South and East. And even those in Mordor itself had heard about the great war? It was hard to imagine this land as anything but cut off from the rest of the world. In all truth, it was really a world of its own in Vrór’s mind, and he was sure others held the same mentality as himself. It was another smack in the face for him, and he stood watching the stars around him for a moment or two, full of awe, terror, sadness, even guilt. Had he really thought of abandoning these people to whatever fate awaited them? He recalled what the brand looked like, and imagined how often and in what violent ways it had been used, in what violent was it was meant to be used, it had to be used…

Mordor was not a world separate of his own. Middle-earth did not end before the Ephel Duáth began and start again where they ended. These people were among the Free Peoples of Middle-earth; they all were now that they were free of the terror that was Sauron. And yet they were not free, not free of the bonds of slavery or of the violence. It was a terrifying thought, venturing across Mordor after these slaves. But how much more terrifying was it for them? How much more terror had their lives been filled with? Vrór gripped the head of the work hammer at his side on his belt. It was more natural for him to reach for that than to reach for his axe. And he hoped to use the former much more than the latter.

Stepping over toward Athwen and Carl now that Lindir and the old men had stepped aside to talk in low voices, the Dwarf peered at the stone himself. There was no doubt that was the White Tree – and Vrór had seen it enough since he had arrived at Minas Tirith a good number of years ago. The other symbols he was not familiar with, though he recognized what the Elf had referred to. An odd token to find in this land, even now, long after the defeat of the Dark Lord. Vrór shook his head, thinking of all the children that would never have to know what living under that horror was like. It brought more warmth to his heart than he had felt in days.

“This gladdens my heart,” he said, sharing his feelings as he looked Carl at Athwen both, “to find this here…perhaps there is hope for this land, yet.”
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