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Old 02-16-2003, 11:09 PM   #106
Burzdol
Shade of Carn Dûm
 
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: The Fair City of Rivendell
Posts: 276
Burzdol has just left Hobbiton.
The Eye

Gondor, faithful land of awe. I have finally made it to thee. The hooded ranger looked at the cheerie inn and a sliver of a smile came upon his long despairing face. The hood slipped of and lengths of black hair fell near his shoulders. His eyes glint green in the morning sun. He found his legs moving towards this place though his mind was else where, in memories of old. The door was in reach of his hand and thus was slightly opened. He looked in and more things filled his mind. His father's war epicts and mother's stories about wizards, hobbits, and dragons. Stopping at the door lasted only a moment before will let him inside. Entering was like a rush of warm water, soothing his wild soul. His hand slipped of the handle of the sword and it was forgotten.

The will lead him right to a small table at the back of the inn. He remembered what his father's last words, "Ildur, my son. I love you. Share my love and vengence with Middle Earth. Become a ranger." Tears ran slowly down the man's face, but were quickly wiped away by the tip of his cloak. Then he remebered a passage from his mother's favorite novel,
Be who you want,
Do what you want,
Just don't forget who you are,
When you believe life is over,
Remember what you lived for,
So be not who they want,
Do not what they want,
If something happens just remember this,
Life may be tough,
But the greats didn't give up,
And neither should thou.


He hung his head in silence and memory. Ten years ago they were taken, why not me in their place? All I am is a ranger, my father was a warrior. Why did they take him? Wiping more tears from his eyes he looked up. Laughter was about in this place, floating in the air like smoke. Men sat together talking and joking, all happy. It felt as if the world of hate and fighting didn't reach its stone hard grasp on this inn. No bloodshed stained the floors. Men weren't fighting for their lives and barely surviving. His father had been in those situations, fighting for the freedom of Middle Earth.

An old man sat across the table and spoke gently, "You look like you need a drink. What do thou like? Malt beer, ale, whiskey?"

"A malt beer will be fine, here's some money," the ranger held out money to the man.

"No thanks, young 'un. This one's on me," the old man walked away. Moments later a foaming glass of beer came before Ildur.

"Thank you sir," as he looked up the old man was gone. He emtied the glass and lay his head on the table. Slumber overtook his weary eyes. Visions of things he could not name filled his head.

[ February 18, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]
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"Kill them all for all I care. You just keep that bow away from me!"
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