<font face="Verdana"><table><TR><TD><FONT SIZE="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Hungry Ghoul
Posts: 879</TD><TD></TD></TR></TABLE>
Re: Bree (Some years before the War of the Ring)
For a while Valdavar stood like this, and he had no idea how much time had been passing. Without him noticing it at first, an unnatural darkness quickly fell, and the fog surrounding him withdrew some feet away. Above himself he could already see the stars, although it should not be so at the time of that day he thought it to be. Valdavar perceived that he was in a small valley amidst the hills. A pale light seemed to illuminate the shrouds of mist around him on the ridges, and before Valdavar's eyes the fog swirled, and moved slowly back and forth, hither and thither, like a pulsating, living entity.
Bewildered, the Beorning gazed at this for a moment, when from behind the fog voices began to rise. Hollow and ghastly they sounded, a whispered cacophony of chants which no living mouth could ever utter. Valdavar recognised no words from it, and whenever he thought he could catch a piece of an ancient tongue, the voices rose chaotically.
The peril sent shivers down his spine, and Valdavar's hair hung wet and ice-cold on his neck. In a brief moment, in which it seemed as if a light came from behind and lifted his mind, the Beorning found his courage again, and he believed that he was able to overcome the paralysis the evil spells and his own superstition had laid upon him. As quickly as this enlightment came, it passed, as if the darkness was strong enough to swallow all signs of hope here as soon as they arose. However, left behind was one thought in Valdavar's mind, which was as clear as never anything had been present in him.
Now calm and stern, he took the small pack, which he had not wanted to deposit on a pony, from around his shoulder, and revealed a package wrapped in brightly coloured linnen. Valadavar removed the fabric, and brought forth a richly adorned horn. With his fingers he caressed its black form, and ran over the intricate ornaments of birds and other beasts of prey on it, and the mouth-piece which was wrought of amber.
Valdavar put the horn to his mouth, took a deep breath and blew the horn nine times loud and clear in the night, the hills ringing of its tone.
With the certain knowledge that his doom had drawn upon him, he spoke to himself, "Let this then be my final hour."
</p>Edited by: <A HREF=http://www.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_profile&u=00000006>Gilthali on</A> at: 5/6/01 4:42:21 pm
|