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#12 |
Stormdancer of Doom
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Mellon peered into Ædegard's mug, and raised an eyebrow, and then leaned forward and gave a sniff. "The Inkeeper sold you that? You're older than you look."
Ædegard took a pull at his mug. "You're not from around here." "True enough. I'm a blacksmith from Gondor, if you must know, " he said hoping Ædegard would be satisfied with that. "You said that already. But you look lost." "Well, " said Mellon, "I suppose I am rather confused." Ædegard waited. "I can't remember much, " Mellon said. Ædegard raised an eyebrow. "Well, I-- I can't remember anything. Except that I'm a blacksmith, and that I lived in the city." "Minas Tirith?" Mellon blinked. "Is-- is that its name?" "Osgiliath?" "I-- that sounds familiar, but--" Ædegard sat back and contemplated Mellon. "It's a good thing you're among friendly folk, " he said. "The elders can send word to Gondor next time someone rides that way. Somebody must be looking for you." "I suppose that would be wise. But, Ædegard, I'm not sure I want to go back to-- to Gondor. At least, not where I was from. But I don't know why. Do you know a place called Edhellond?" Ædegard's eyes narrowed. A fugitive? he wondered. "No, I've never heard of Edhellond; where is it? What is it?" Mellon shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But I think it might be to the south or to the west; somewhere near the sea. I don't know why." <font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:21 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve. |
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