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Old 12-31-2004, 03:51 PM   #317
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
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Join Date: Dec 2002
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Menecin

Straight and tall, Menecin silently watched in the rain, listening. Looking up the elf saw that not even the occasional glimpse of clear sky was to be seen among the fast moving clouds. Yet somewhere before them were Naiore… and the others. That smaller party, which also trailed her, and which he hoped still lay between her and his own traveling companions. It seemed a doomed mission that these few had set themselves upon, unless they might be reached and reinforced quickly. Just how well did this young ranger understand the lady Dannan and her perilous ways? Was he truly prepared to assail someone with her skill having only the aid of two Periannath? A twinge of foreboding overtook him and steeling himself against it, he continued his watch.

In the patter of steady rain, he heard a footfall behind him. And Menecin who quickly recognized the timing of Amandur’s stride in the sound, did not let his gaze waver as the ranger approached him, but still surveying the landscape, he continued to hope for some sign that might direct them on their way. “Are there any new tidings?” Amandur asked as he drew alongside the bard, the rain dripping from his hair. “What might elven eyes see in this downpour?”

“My eyes see naught but fair woods and plains, glad of summer rain. They have not alighted on any that could not rightfully call this place home,” Menecin reported.

The ranger nodded, “Truly a beacon such as a campfire would provide, is too much to hope for in this rain and rolling terrain. But given the danger of unfriendly eyes it is even more unlikely. Dúlrain is not foolish.”

Menecin finally allowed himself to meet the ranger’s gaze. “It has troubled me greatly, Amandur,” the rich voice confessed reluctantly. “It has troubled me that Dúlrain should continue on ahead of us. Surely, he knows that you would not let him face this task alone and that we cannot be far behind. Tell me, what manner of man is this we follow, and that would dare seek her out?”

“It is troubling to me as well that we have not yet caught up with him.” Amandur admitted to the bard. “But do not think he would wait for us. He has much grievance with the Lady Dannan, and would not risk letting her trail grow cold. For she has slowly and completely destroyed Kaldir whom Dúlrain called brother, and now holds captive yet another he holds dear.”

“The Southern woman? That is ill tidings, indeed.” Menecin bowed his head, before raising it once again to search the grassy plains and scanty woods shrouded in darkness. “But what of the Periannath?”

“One is a close friend of Miss Nightshade, but the other Halfling’s presence remains a mystery to me. He had accompanied the Lady Dannan willingly from Bree, but apparently left her company and joined Dúlrain and Kaldir before they had reached the borders of Imladris. I do not know why he has continued onward from there.”

“This also bodes evil to my mind,” the elf said. “Then let us hope, that with the morning light we might ride swiftly now that we are no longer upon mountain paths.”

“And let us hope also that Dúlrain does not meet with the Ravennor of Mordor before we are able to find him,” Amandur added, echoing the thoughts that Menecin left had unspoken. But the elf did not respond to him, feeling a strong dissonance to hear Naiore referred to by such a designation. And though he knew well it was true, he withdrew again within himself and his memories until Amandur said that he would stand watch, and Menecin returned the sycamore grove, and sat apart from the rest.
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