[Eladain Moruviel]

Gil had been carried downstream for about 15 minutes before he finally found a place where he could struggle out of the water. Using all of the strength he had left, he dragged himself onto the riverbank and collapsed. Finally recovering his breath, he stood up to get his bearings. Much to his dismay, he found himself in an even darker part of the wood than the fellowship had just left. The trees were all either hacked, uprooted, or charred. “Out of the pan and into the fire” he thought dismally to himself. “Well, I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have too; I’d best try to find the others”. And so he started off back upstream.

As he walked in silence, that strange feeling he had felt before returned. It was no longer just in his limbs, but had spread throughout his body. Now that’s odd he thought It was only a small wound, and it shouldn’t cause this. Stranger still, where the dark thoughts that now lurked on the edges of his mind. Thoughts of death, not the deaths of his enemies, but those of his comrades. Then a sudden waive of anger struck him, and drawing his sword, he clove a young tree in twain. He would have continued hacking and slashing , had he not called up all of his will power and forced these dark thoughts and feelings down. He dropped to his knees sobbing “what’s wrong with me?!?” he screamed “what has happened to make me do such terrible things!?!”

Then all at once it was clear to him, like clouds passing after a summer storm. He could feel it; it was writhing around in his mind, like a serpent trying to free itself. He had heard of it before, wizards, or mages that could take over a person’s body, control it like a puppet, and bend it to his dark will. It would take time, especially if he resisted with all of his might, but sooner or later, even the most stouthearted of men would succumb. He would resist, and it would be one devil of a fight, but it was only a matter of time…


Then he heard the sound of battle up ahead, he instantly knew it was his comrades and charged forward with renewed strength. In the clearing he saw his friends surrounded by a multitude of orcs, at least he thought they were orcs, for he had only heard tales of them. He knew they would die just as easily if he had seen one, as if he hadn’t, so he moved forward. Unsheathing his dagger, he crept up behind one of the orc archers and silently slit its throat. Then he saw a large orc charging towards him, dropping his knife, and drawing his sword, he hammered into the orc, killing it instantly. "Gurth gothrim Tel'Laiqataure!" he screamed lunging into another group of orcs, and soon they all lay dead.

He saw his comrades fighting gallantly, slaying many of the foul brutes “We may win this!” He though hopefully. Then he saw something that made his blood run cold, 10 or 15 more orcs charged out of the forest straight towards him. Getting into a defensive stance, he prepared himself for death, though they would pay dearly for it with their lives….

[ September 06, 2003: Message edited by: Eladain Moruviel ]