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Old 12-01-2003, 09:51 PM   #169
Imladris
Tears of the Phoenix
 
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Join Date: Jun 2003
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Imladris has just left Hobbiton.
Sting

Maethor

The journey to Imladris had been delayed by a tortured attack upon Vanwe’s brain that had caused Lespheria to stop. Maethor shuddered as he saw Lespheria’s face drawn with pain and sorrow as she shared the mental assault. How could a mother torment her daughter so? Maethor thought with a shudder. Her own flesh and blood?

As they journeyed, the attacks became less seldom or else Lespheria was growing stronger against them: Maethor was not sure which. With downcast eyes, he remembered the fleeing, terror stricken elf he had rescued in the forest and wondered how any could harm such a fair, exquisite creature. Pain, wickedness -- it was inescapable. Though the dark lord had been destroyed and many of his minions had been hunted and their spirits departed from Justice’s blade, Maethor knew that even when those affiliated with the Shadow had long ago ceased to live, evil would continue. It was the fate of the world, it seemed. Sickness would haunt it always, the plague of selfishness would manifest itself in various forms, even in a creature so unlikely as a hobbit. Who knew what scum buried itself beneath the mountain’s roots to creep out under the cover of night to spread their poison across the land? Who knew the dark, hidden thoughts of those who walked the land?

Maethor swallowed and realized that a sore throat had managed to find him. He shrugged. It was mere cold, nothing more. Sickness…disease. Even Rangers had their faults, he realized, guiltily thinking of his own failings. Turning his brown eyes upon Lespheria, who sat in the flickering fire light, battling the emotions that violently assailed her, he realized that elves were a pure race. He remembered his lore and history and saw that elves were like pillars of strength seldom falling.

As they journeyed, Maethor gazed upon the distant Weathertop with wonder. Once he had climbed the rugged sides of Amon Sûl and had see the green land, decked with the garland of Spring, spread below him. The pleasant memory was interrupted with the neek breek of the midewater pests. “Drat you insects,” he muttered good naturedly to them as he slapped then absently.

After two weeks of traveling, they reached the last bridge upon the East Road. “We are being followed,” Lespheria said, gesturing to the side. “To our right, but who ever it was has only stayed long enough to get our position!"

Glancing at Amandur, Maethor wheeled Nair and clipped to the bushes. After a bit of searching, Amandur waved Maethor over and pointed to a pair of prints. “They look like a pair of hobbit feet,” Amandur said.

“I believe the tracks belong to our friend Toby,” Maethor added with a grim smile.
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Last edited by piosenniel; 03-12-2004 at 03:55 PM.
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